104 THE FOGY DAYS AND NOW ; 



and the least disorder among the groupe would draw from him 

 the sharpest reprimand. Among the members of our class was 

 a sand-lapper from Charleston, named Joe Hide ; this boy Joe 

 became greatly attached to one of the mountain sprouts, 

 and would hang upon his words as he related his wonderful 

 hunting yarns, and his hair-breadth escapes amid the wilds 

 of forest life. Joe would listen with wrapt attention and 

 admiration to these narrations, and no matter how extrave- 

 gantly these stories were manufactured, would swallow down 

 every word as gospel truth. I said the sand-lapper's name was 

 Joe Hide, the other fellow was me, and Joe stuck to me like a 

 leach. I boarded at Dr. Earle's, on one side of the school, and 

 Joe at Dr. Robinson's, on the other side, about three miles 

 apart. One evening Joe decided to go home with me and 

 spend the night ; my room-mates were Tom Pickens, from 

 Pendleton, Sloan Benson, from Anderson and John Evans^ 

 afterward M. C, from Spartanburg. 



Well, after supper, we got up a little game of cards, for fun 

 — we never gambled. Joe didn't want to play, wanted to hear 

 some more hunting stories. I felt a little annoyed at his per- 

 sistence, when a devlish idea entered my head, and I arose 

 from the table and went to a corner and loaded a pistol with 

 powder, got out an old razor and laid them in a convenient 

 place, returned to the table and at the first opportunity gave 

 the boys the wink, remarking as I did so that I did not feel 

 exactly right; was afraid one of my old spells was coming on 

 me. Joe wanted to know what kind of spells I had. I eva- 

 sively replied that sometimes I had sorter wild spells, or abe- 

 ration of the mind came over me, and turning to the boys said, 

 boys if I should have an attack to-night please take care of 

 me, and don't let me do any harm. Joe looked startled and I 



