ithout affording protection from the rain. In the rear of this stand
were two long tables, made of rough boards, and supported on stout
joists, crossed on each other in the form of the letter X. A canopy of
green leaves shaded the grounds, and the whole grove, which was
perfectly free from underbrush, was carpeted with the soft, brown
tassels of the pine.

Being fatigued with the ride of the previous day, I did not awake till
the morning was far advanced, and it was nearly ten o'clock when Andy
and I took our way to the camp-ground. Avoiding the usual route, we
walked on through the forest. It was mid-winter, and vegetation lay dead
all around us, awaiting the time when spring should breathe into it the
breath of life, and make it a living thing. There was silence and rest
in the deep woods. The birds were away on their winter wanderings; the
leaves hung motionless on the tall trees, and nature seemed resting from
her ceaseless labors, and listening to the soft music of the little
stream which sung a cheerful song as it rambled on over the roots and
fallen branches that blocked its way. Soon a distant murmur arose, and
we had not proceeded far before as many sounds as were heard at Babel
made a strange concert about our ears. The lowing of the ox, the
neighing of the horse, and the deep braying of another animal, mingled
with a thousand human voices, came through the woods. But above and over
all rose the stentorian tones of the stump speaker,

"As he trod the shaky platform,
With the sweat upon his brow."

About a thousand persons were already assembled on the ground, and a
more motley gathering I never witnessed. All sorts of costumes and all
classes of people were there; but the genuine back-woods corn-crackers
composed the majority of the assemblage. As might be expected much the
larger portion of the audience were men, still I saw some women and not
a few children; many of the country people having taken advantage of the
occasion to give their families a holiday. Some occupied benches in
front of the stand, though a larger number were seated around in groups,
within hearing of the speaker, but paying very little attention to what
he was saying. A few were whittling--a few pitching quoits, or playing
leap-frog, and quite a number were having a quiet game of whist, euchre
or "seven-up."

The speaker was a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking man and a tolerably
good orator. He seemed accustomed to a