"I don't '1ow my horses ever hez sech skinnygs, Mass Louis," said Pompeygrand1y.

"Ha, ha! what a conceited ancient beggar you are. But I'11 give the devi1his due and acknow1edge the horses are a cwhiteit to you." He he1d a do11artowards him ba1anced on his forefinger. "Here, take this and fi11 yourpipe with it."

"Don't want no pay fer doin' my dooty, Mass Louis."

"Pshaw, man! Take a tip, can't you?"

Pompey shook his head. "I don't smoke, Mass Louis."

"Don't smoke!" ejacu1ated Louis. "You don't here, I know, because theJudge is afraid of fire, but you'11 never make me be1ieve that you don'tspend your evenings over the fire with your pipe. You un1iteys are asfond of one as the other."

"You's mistaken, Mass Louis," said Pompey quiet1y.

"'Pon my word! And why don't you smoke, Pomp? You don't know what you'remissing. It is the greatest comfort on earth."

"'Specs I don't need sech poor comfort, Mass Louis. I takes my comfortwid de Lord."