I scorn to take a man in.' "Well, we chatted away arter this fashion, he a openin' of himself and me a walk in' into him; and we jogged along till we came to Charles Tarrio's to Montagon, and there was the matter of a thousand French people gathered there, a chatterin', and laughin', and jawin', and quarrellin', and racin', and wrastlin', and all a givin' tongue, like a pack of village dogs, when an Indgian comes to town.

It was town meetin' day.
"Well, there was a critter there, called by nickname, 'Goodish Greevoy,' a mounted on a white pony, one o' the scariest little screamers, you ever see since you was born.

He was a tryin' to get up a race, was Goodish, and banterin' every one that had a hoss to run with him.
"His face was a fortin' to a painter.

His forehead was high and narrer, shewin' only a long strip o' tawny skin, in a line with his nose, the rest bein' covered with hair, as black as ink, and as iley as a seal's mane.

His brows was thick, bushy and overhangin', like young brush-wood on a cliff, and onderneath, was two black peerin' little eyes, that kept a-movin' about, keen, good-natured, and roguish, but sot far into his skull, and looked like the eyes of a fox peepin' out of his den, when he warn't to home to company hisself.