FLUSHED. 339 



records before the case came on, we arranged our de- 

 parture so as to arrive there several days before Court. 

 Up to the Saturday preceding court-day, we were 

 busily engaged ; and I must confess that on that 

 morning I for one was rather pleased than other- 

 wise when we were informed by the landlord that we 

 might expect "a pretty smart sprinkling of folks in 

 town to-day, " 'cause there's to be a big quarter-race 

 run over thar on the race-track to-day." 



"Whose are the horses, and what are the stakes?" 

 we inquired. 



"Why, Jim Donavan's mar' is a gwine to run 

 against Mat Martin's big black hoss for a hundred 

 dollars," answered he, "and the hull county will be out 

 to see it." 



Now, Jim Donavan was the Sheriff of the county, 

 and Mat Martin was the keeper of a favorite grocery 

 near by ; and as both were great favorites, we felt con- 

 vinced that the landlord was right in expecting a 

 crowd. 



Sure enough, as the sun began to rise, the people 

 began pouring in from all sides, and by ten o'clock 

 there were between one hundred and fifty and two 

 hundred men, women and children, followed by about 

 four hundred dogs, gathered in front of the town 

 grocery. Tom and I were standing by looking on, 

 having saluted our acquaintances, when the Sheriff, 

 with whom we were favorites, came into town riding 

 the mare. 



"How-de-do, boys! how-de-do!" exclaimed he 

 as soon as he recognized us, springing to the ground, 

 and extending to each a hand. "I knowed it," con- 

 tinued he ; "I knowed you down-the-country fellers 



