In the morning Hoss Allen became "dreadful poorly," and it was with great difficulty he could be prevailed upon to get up. All were sympathising with his affliction, and the matron of the house boiled him some hot "sass-tea," which, the old man said, relieved him mightily. Judge Edwards assured Hoss, that it would be necessary for him to lay up for a day or two, and the afflicted candidate signified the same himself. Before they parted Hoss requested Edwards, as he had the whole field to himself, not to be too hard upon him. His antagonist promised to spare him, but chuckled all the while at having a clear field in Allen's most popular district. Shaking the old Hoss by the hand, as they were about to separate, he remarked-" We will meet at Benton, I hope, in a different trim, Friend Allen." They did meet in different trim, but Edwards little dreamt the particular kind of trim he would appear in. As soon as Judge Edwards was fairly started, it was surprising the rapid change which took place in his antagonist-Hoss's eye lit up, a broad grin spread over his features, and pulling off the handkerchief, which was tied around his head, he twirled it above him like a flag, then stuffed it in his pocket, remarking

coolly, at the same time,-" Well, that thar swamp, jest at this season, is awful!" His express reported himself after his night ride, assured Allen that all was O. K., and received his dollar for delivering the message; upon receiving which intelligence, Allen seated himself quietly and comfortably at his coffee, and imbibed it with a relish that drove the idea of sickness into a hopeless decline.

Judge Edwards rapidly progressed on his way, highly gratified at having his opponent off in this part of the field, and as he, in this happy mood, journeyed onwards he set his brain to work conning a most powerful speech, one that would knock the sand from under Hoss, and leave him in a state of sprawling defeat. He resolved to sweep the south, from that point, like a prairie fire. About noon, or perhaps an hour after, he arrived at Tom Walters' for dinner, and while it was preparing, inquired how far he was from Benton,

"I've an idea," said Tom, "you're well on to nine miles frum thar-jest an easy arternoon ride."

This was highly satisfactory to the Judge, and perceiving that the provender preparing was of a like pleasing character, he spread himself back upon a hickory-bottomed chair

with a kind of easy dignity, at once comfortable to himself, and edifying to his host. "Stranger," inquired Tom, "did you scare up anythin' like the two candidates, Jedge Eddards and old Hoss Allen, on your way down yeur ?

"I did see something of them, my friend," answered the Judge, and then, as if making up his mind to surprise Tom, and give him a striking example of democratic condescension, he inquired, "Would you know either of the gentlemen, if they stood before you?"

"Why, as to old Hoss," said Tom, "I don't know anybody else, but this new Jedge I aint never seed, and ef he is the slickedup finefied sort on a character they pictur' him, I don't want to see him; its my opinion, these squirtish kind a fellars ain't perticular hard baked, and they allers goes in fur aristocracy notions."

The Judge had no idea that Tom was smoking him, and he congratulated himself that an opportunity here presented itself, where he could remove a wrong impression. personally; so, loftily viewing this southern constituent, he remarked

"You have heard a calumny, my friend, for Judge Edwards now sits before you, and

you can see whether his appearance denotes such a person as you describe."

"No!" shouted Tom, with mock surprise, "you aint comin' a hoax over a fellar?-you raally are the sure enough Jedge?"

"I am really the Judge, my friend," responded his honour, highly elevated with Tom's astonishment.

"Then gin us your paw," shouted Tom, "you're jest the lookin' fellar kin sweep these yeur diggins like a catamount! What in the yearth did you do with old Hoss on the road? I heerd he was a comin' along with you. He aint gin out, has he?"

The Judge replied, with a smile which expressed disparagement of Hoss Allen's powers of endurance, that he was forced to lie up on the route, from fatigue. Dinner being announced as ready, the Judge and Tom seated themselves, and the latter highly expanded his guest's prospects in the district, assuring him that he could lick Hoss "powerful easy, ef he wasn't broken-winded." The meal being ended, the Judge demanded his horse, and inquired of his host the direct road to Benton, which Tom thus mapped out:

"Arter you pass the big walnut, about two miles from yeur, keep it a mile on your

left, and take the right trail fur about six hundred yards, when you'll cum to the 'saplin acre,' thar you keep to the right agin, and when that trail fotches you up, why right over from thar lies Benton."

This was a very clear direction to one who had never before travelled the road, but the Judge, trusting to luck, said, "he thought he would be able to get there without much difficulty," and started off, leaving his late entertainer gazing after him.

"Well, I allow you will, Jedge," chuckled Tom,—“You'll git inter that swamp, jest as sure as shootin', and you'll hev the biggest and hungryest audience of mosquitors ever a candidate preached law or larnin' to!" To secure his finding the swamp road, he had stationed his boy Jim near the turn off, to make the matter sure.

In the course of a couple of hours along came Hoss Allen, who, as soon as Tom took hold of his bridle, winked his eye at him while he inquired—

"Did Jedge Eddards come along, Tom?" "Well, he did, Hoss, oncommon extensive in his political feelins'."

"And you didn't let the Jedge stray away from the swamp road?" inquired Hoss.

"Well, I predicate I didn't, fur by this