ow long you been dead?' 'Sence day 'fore yestidday,' says the 'possum.
'All right!' says de bar, 'when dey've on'y been dead two or free days,
an' kin talk, I eats 'em all de same.' An' he eat him up."

"And now, Grandison," said Mr. Morris, "where is the moral of that
parable?"

"De moral is dis," said Grandison; "stick ter de truf. If de 'possum had
tole de truf, an' said he was alibe, de bar couldn't eat him no more'n
he did eat him; no bar could do dat. An' I axes you, Mahs'r Morris, don'
dat par'ble show dat eb'rybody oughter stick ter de truf, no matter what
happens."

"Well, I don't think your moral is very clear," said Mr. Morris, "for it
would have been about as bad for the 'possum one way as the other. But,
after all, it would have been better for the little beast to tell the
truth and die with a clear conscience."

"Dat's so!" cried Brother 'Bijah, speaking in his ministerial capacity,
"de great thing in dis worl' is ter die wid a clear conscience."

"But you can't do dat," said Grandison, "if you let dis thing an' dat
thing come in ter hinder ye. Now dat's jes' wot we's been disputin'
'bout, Mahs'r Morris. I 'clared dat we oughter stick ter de truf widout
lookin' to de right or de lef'; but Brudder 'Bijah, his min' wasn't
quite made up on de subjick. Now, wot you say, Mahs'r Morris?"

"I say stick to the truth, of course," said Mr. Morris, gathering up his
reins. "And, by the way, Grandison, do you expect to make that payment
on your place which is due next week?"

"Yaas, sah, sartin shuh," said Grandison. "I done tole you I'd do it,
Mahs'r Morris, an' I 'tends ter stick ter de truf."

"Now, den," said Grandison, in a tone of triumph, when Mr. Morris had
ridden away, "you see I's right in my 'clusions, and Mahs'r Morris
'grees with me."

"Dunno," said Brother 'Bijah, shaking his head, "dis is a mighty
dubersome question. You kep' dem apples clar out o' sight, Brudder
Gran'son; clar out o' sight."

It was about a week after this, quite early in the morning, that
Grandison was slowly driving into town with a horse and a wagon which he
had borrowed from a neighbor. In the wagon were three barrels of fine
apples. Suddenly, at a turn in the road, he was greatly surprised to
meet Mr. Morris, riding homeward.

"What have you in those barrels, Grandison?" inquired his landlord.

"Dey's apples, sah," was the reply, "dat I's got de job ob haulin' ter
town, sah."

Mr. Morris rode up to the wagon and rem