A PIANO IN ARKANSAS. _ 149 
fire to extinguish it, for it blazed out with more vigor 
than ever. That it was a musical instrument, made it a 
rarer thing in that wild country than if it had been an 
animal, and people of all sizes, colors, and degrees, were 
dying to see and hear it. 
Jim Cash was Mo Mercer’s right-hand man; in the 
language of refined society, he was ‘ Mo’s toady,”—in 
the language of Hardscrabble, he was “ Mo’s wheel- 
horse.” Cash believed in Mo Mercer with an abandon- 
ment that was perfectly ridiculous. Mr. Cash was dy- 
ing to see the piano, and the first opportunity he had 
alone with his Quixote, he expressed the desire that 
was consuming his vitals. 
“We'll go at once and see it,” said Mercer. 
‘“ Strangers!’ echoed the frightened Cash. 
‘Humbug! Do you think I have visited the ‘Ca- 
pitol’ twice, and don’t know how to treat fashionable so- 
ciety ? Come along at once, Cash,” said Mercer. 
Off the pair started, Mercer all confidence, and Cash 
all fears, as to the propriety of the visit. These fears 
Cash frankly expressed; but Mercer repeated, for the 
thousandth time, his experience in the fashionable soci- 
ety of the “ Capitol, and pianos,” which he said “ was 
synonymous’’—and he finally told Cash, to comfort him, 
that however abashed and ashamed he might be in the 
presence of the ladies, “ that he needn’t fear of sticking, 
for he would pull him through.” 
A few minutes’ walk brought the parties on the 
