is head. "I had
'em yistidy, I'm certain of that." He went behind his counter, shook a
barrel, looked into it--looked into a cracker box, into a crock jar, and
brought out a handful of letters. "Oh, I know'd they was here somewhar,"
he said. "Elliott, Mayfield," he repeated, looking at the letters.
"Here's one for Endiott--'bout as near as I can come to you, young
feller. Will that do?"

"Of course not," Tom answered. "It isn't for me."

"Near enough, ain't it. Oughtn't to blame a man when he's doin' the best
he can. I can't hit at you at all, Mrs. Mayfield. Ain't nuthin' here
that sounds like you."

"Really," she said, "this is a remarkable post-office."

"One of the best, ma'm," replied the post-master. "Come in, Squire," he
called as a man, leading a hound, appeared at the door.

"I want a pint," said the Squire.

"All right--let me look at yo' dog." He examined the hound's teeth,
punched him in the side to catch his tone, pronounced his yelp of good
note, and gave the Squire a pint of liquor.

"About as peculiar case of barter as I ever saw," said Tom when the
Squire withdrew with his purchase.

"Yas, mout seem so, but a good artickle of hound is a currency at this
sto'."

"I heard that I might find peculiar people in this part of the country,"
said Mrs. Mayfield, "and I have not been disappointed."

The store-keeper smiled upon her, playing with the hound's ears. "Oh, we
never disapp'int folks," he replied. "But we ain't peculiar. Higher up
the mountains you might find folks that are right queer in their ways.
Up thar they ain't got no money at all 'cept coon skins. Well, do you
want to buy anythin'?"

"No," said Mrs. Mayfield, "not to-day."

"Got some right good snuff here if you want it."

"I don't use snuff."

"You don't? An' come round talkin' 'bout peculiar folks, too? Little
one," he said to Lou, "tell yo' daddy I may drap over to see him as soon
as my present rush is over. Trade is suthin' that don't wait fur no
man, Mrs. Mayflower."

"Auntie, you'll have to buy something after that," said Tom. "I don't
see how you can get away from it."

"Then I will show you. I wish you would tell Kintchin that we are ready
to go."

CHAPTER V.

COULDN'T QUARREL IN PEACE.

When Jim and Mrs. Mayfield were near the door, just before starting for
the post-office, she with graceful ceremony and he with the simple grin
of devout worship, Old Jasper had stood looking at them, with an
expression