nd makes me think o' how Sam rode at the
fair that year they had the t'u'nament. I don't know how long it's
been since I thought o' that ride, and maybe I never would 'a' thought
of it again if that boy of Joe Crofton's hadn't put me in mind of it."

I dropped my butter-beans for a moment and assumed a listening
attitude, and without any further solicitation, and in the natural
course of events, the story began.

"You see the town folks was always gittin' up somethin' new for the
fair, and that year I'm talkin' about it was a t'u'nament. All the
Goshen folks that went to town the last County Court day before the
fair come back with the news that there was goin' to be a t'u'nament
the third day o' the fair. Everybody was sayin', 'What's that?' and
nobody could answer 'em till Sam Crawford went to town one Saturday
jest before the fair, and come back with the whole thing at his
tongue's end. Sam heard that they was practisin' for the t'u'nament
that evenin', and as he passed the fair grounds on his way home, he
made a p'int of goin' in and seein' what they was about. He said there
was twelve young men, and they was called knights; and they had a lot
o' iron rings hung from the posts of the amp'itheater, and they'd tear
around the ring like mad and try to stick a pole through every ring
and carry it off with 'em, and the one that got the most rings got the
blue ribbon. Sam said it took a good eye and a steady arm and a good
seat to manage the thing, and he enjoyed watchin' 'em. 'But,' says he,
'why they call the thing a t'u'nament is more'n I could make out. I
stayed there a plumb hour, and I couldn't hear nor see anything that
sounded or looked like a tune.'

"Well, the third day o' the fair come, and we was all on hand to see
the t'u'nament. It went off jest like Sam said. There was twelve
knights, all dressed in black velvet, with gold and silver spangles,
and they galloped around and tried to take off the rings on their long
poles. When they got through with that, the knights they rode up to
the judges with a wreath o' flowers on the ends o' their
poles--lances, they called 'em--and every knight called out the name
o' the lady that he thought the most of; and she come up to the stand,
and they put the wreath on her head, and there was twelve pretty
gyirls with flowers on their heads, and they was 'Queens of Love and
Beauty.' It was a mighty pretty sight, I tell you; and the band was
playin' 'Old Kentucky Home,' and