hey do now and
then for the purpose of replenishing their stock of whiskey, he had,
about eleven o'clock on the previous night, been set upon by three
intoxicated students, who, having driven off his mule, overturned his
cart, landing him and his wife prostrate in the ditch. A great noise was
the result, and the guard, with their accustomed zeal for seizing upon
the innocent party, dragged up the weaker (the Cracker and his wife) and
let the guilty go free. He had brought the good wife, he added, as a
living evidence of the truth of what he said, and would bring the mule
if his honor was not satisfied. The good wife commences a volley of what
she is pleased to call voluntary testimony, praising and defending all
the good qualities of her much-abused husband, without permitting any
one else an opposing word. No sufficient charge being brought against
the Cracker (he wisely slipped a five dollar bill into the hands of
Stubbs), he joins his good wife and goes on his way rejoicing.

During this little episode between the court and the Cracker's wife,
Madame Grace Ashley, arrayed in her most fashionable toilet, comes
blazing into Court, bows to the Judge and a few of her most select
friends of the Bar. A seat for Madame is provided near his Honor's desk.
His Honor's blushes seem somewhat overtaxed; Madame, on the other hand,
is not at all disconcerted; indeed, she claims an extensive acquaintance
with the most distinguished of the Bar.

The Judge suggests to Mr. Stubbs that it would be as well to waive the
charge against the clergyman. Somewhat the worse for his night in the
guard-house, Parson Patterson comes forward and commences in the most
unintelligible manner to explain the whole affair, when the Judge very
blandly interrupts by inquiring if he is a member of the clergy at this
moment. "Welle," returns the parson, with characteristic drawl, "can't
zactly say I am." The natural seediness of the parson excites suspicion,
nevertheless he is scrupulous of his white cravat, and preserves withal
a strictly clerical aspect. Having paused a few moments and exchanged
glances with the Judge, he continues: "I do nigger preaching on
Sunday--that is (Parson Patterson corrects himself), I hold forth, here
and there--we are all flesh and blood--on plantations when I have a
demand for my services. Our large planters hold it good policy to
encourage the piety of their property."

"You make a good thing of it?" inquires the Judge, joc