As fo' the Nashville widowers," said Cavendish with a chuckle, and a nod to Polly, "I pretty nigh drownded one of 'em in the Elk.

We met in mid-stream and fit it out there; and the other quit the county.

That was fo'teen years ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over again to-morrow." "But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr.Yancy nothin' about yo' title," expostulated Polly.
"I'd admire to hear mo' about that," said Yancy.
"I'm gettin' round to that.

It was my great grandfather come over here from England.

His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, same as mine is.
He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and went to raisin' tobacco.
I've heard my grandfather tell how he'd heard folks say his father was always hintin' in his licker that he was a heap better than he seemed, and if people only knowed the truth about him they'd respect him mo', and mebby treat him better.