ness stand in their way a minute; they sailed a good deal nearer the wind, and wanted to borry money-I'm so good-natured; and more asked me to go security. These fellows were always very particular friends of mine, and got what they asked for; but I was a very particular friend of theirs, and couldn't get it back. It was one of the good rules that won't work both ways; and I, somehow or other, was at the wrong end of it, for it wouldn't work my way at all. There's few rules that will, barring substraction, and division, and alligation, when our folks allegated against me that I wouldn't come to no good. All the cypherin' I could ever do made more come to little, and little come to less ; and yet, as I said afore, I had a good many assistants too.

"Business kept pretty fair; but I wasn't cured. Because I was good-natured, I had to go with 'em frolicking, tea-partying, excursioning, and busting; and for the same reason, I was always appinted treasurer to make the distribution when there wasn't a cent of surplus revenue in the treasury, but my own. It was my job to pay all the bills. Yes, it was always 'Salix, you know me'-'Salix, pony up at the bar, and lend us a levy'—' Salıx always shells out like a gentleman.' Oh, to be sure!

and why not?-now I'm shelled out myself-first out of my shop by old venditioni exponas, at the State House-old fiery fash 'us to me directed. But they didn't direct him soon enough, for he only got the fixtures. The goods had gone out on a bust long before I busted. Next, I was shelled out of my boarding house; and now," (with a lugubrious glance at his shirt and pantaloons,) "I'm nearly shelled out of my clothes. It's a good thing they can't easy shell me out of my skin, or they would, and let me catch my death of cold. I'm a mere

shell-fish-an oyster with the kivers off.

"But, it was always so when I was a little boy, they coaxed all my pennies out of me; coaxed me to take all the jawings, and all the hidings, and to go first into all sorts of scrapes, and precious scrapings they used to be. I wonder if there isn't two kinds of people-one kind that's made to chaw up t'other kind, and t'other kind that's made to be chawed up by one kind?-cat-kind of people, and mouse-kind of people? I guess there is. I'm very much of a mouse myself.

"What I want to know is, what's to become of me. I've spent all I had in getting my eddication. Learnin', they say, is better than houses and lands. I wonder if anybody will swap some house and land

with me for mine? I'd go it even and ask no boot. They should have it at prime cost; but they won't; and I begin to be afraid I'll have to get married, or 'list in the marines. That's what most people do when they've nothing to do."

*

What became of Leniter Salix immediately, is immaterial; what will become of him eventually is clear enough. His story is one acting every day, and, though grotesquely sketched, is an evidence of the danger of an accommodating disposition when not regulated by prudence. The softness of "the best-natured fellow in the world" requires a large admixture of hardening alloy to give it the proper temper.

XX.

CHUNKEY'S FIGHT WITH THE PANTHERS.

Co Chunk! went Jem into the middle of the floor; jest at the crack off day (Jem is a labor-savin' man about ondressing when he goes to bed). He commenced chunkin' the fire, then "ah !" says he, feelin' for the tin cup. Presently he went to the door, and shouted to the foreman :

"Sound that horn, Hembry. Tell the niggars in the quarter to lumber the hollar back agin to the kitchen, for a hurricane has surely broke loose!"

Then "ah!" says he again, and in he comes.

"What's busted, Jem ?"

"North pole has busted, and no mistake. The ground is kivered with snow."

I sprung up, and sure enough thar was the snow, the first that ever fell in the creek, jest follerin' civilization. I knowed thar'd be howlin', smashin' of teeth, burnin' of brimstone, and a worryin' of the stranger, on the creek to-day, and so, I reckon, did the dogs, 'cause when Hembry blowed the horn, they come a shoutin' like so many imps. Jest imagin, Captin, thirty fullgrown dogs, a cross of the blood on the old Virginny foxhound, keen as a bowyer, and adzactly of Jem's opinion, signifying as plain as they could, if huntin's goin' on, they'd take a chance.

Well, we splurged about till breakfast-time, gettin' up and cleanin' guns, and countin' balls, and dividin' powder.

"Bring out them bar-sassage and deer melts," says Jem; "and then, Chunkey, we'll locomotion."

His eyes all the time lookin' like a live coal of fire, and every muscle jumpin' for joy.

"Look out, bar," says he.

"Say low, and keep dark, panter," says I.