CHRISTMAS IN PINEVILLE.

BY WILLIAM TAPPAN THOMPSON.

WILLIAM TAPPAN THOMPSON was born in Ohio in 1812, and died

in 1882. A great part of his life was passed in Georgia, where the scene of his various humorous sketches, "Major Jones's Courtship," "Major Jones's Sketches of Travel," and "Major Jones's Characters of Pineville," is laid. His books had at one time a vast popularity.

PINEVILLE, December 20, 1842.

TO MR. THOMPSON:-Dear Sir :-It seems our fokes always is in a fuss. First it was

movin', then it was hogkillin', and now every thing is topsy-turvy making ready for Crismus. I do b'lieve the niggers is skowered every spot from the garret to the doresteps, and every time I come into the house they's all hollerin' out, "Thar, now, Mas' Joe, jest look at your tracks!" and "Don't you step on the heath, for it's jest reddened," and "Don't you spit agin the jam," and sich foolery, jest as if people's houses wasn't made for 'em to live in. It really puts me out of all patience to see sich nonsensical doins. And mother, she's had all the niggers choppin' sassage

"DON'T YOU SPIT AGIN THE JAM."

meat to make mince-pies, and poundin' spice and ginger, and makin' marvels and beatin' egs to make pound-cake, and all sorts

of sweet doins for Crismus; for when she takes any thing into her head, she ain't a gwine to be outdone by nobody. She ses Crismus don't come but once a year nowadays, and she's gwine to treat it hansum when it does cum-she's gwine to show the Stallinses that she's used to as good livin' as most of fokes.

Mother and old Miss Stallins and two or three more old ladies is in a mighty fidget about it, and old Miss Stallins dreamed it was a fact, and mother dreamed she seed two moons t'other night, and one of 'em was all blazin' with fire and flyin' about in the sky like all wrath. I don't 'zactly know what to think about it, but ther's one thing sartin, it's got to begin monstrous early in the mornin' on the third day of April if I ain't up to see it. If any. body was to set the woods a-fire 'bout Pineville, jest at that time, I wouldn't like to answer for the consequences among the old wimin.

But I'm not a gwine to let sich matters interfere with my marryin' specelation. I call it specelation, for, you know, ther's no tellin' how these things is gwine to turn out. In the fust place, it's a chance if a body gits the gall he's courtin', and after he's got her all to himself, for better or for worse, it's a chance again if she don't turn out a monstrous site worse nor he tuck her for. But I think mine's a pretty safe bisiness, for Miss Mary is jest a leetle the smartest and best and the butifulest gall in Georgia. I've seed her two or three times sense the candy pullin', and I aint more'n half so 'fraid of her as I used to be. I told her t'other night I had a Crismus gift for her, which I hoped she would take and keep.

"What is it, Majer!" ses she.

"Oh," ses I, "it's something what I wouldn't give to nobody else in the world!"

"Well, but what is it?-do tell me!"

"Something," ses I, "what you stole from me a long time ago, and sense you've got it, I want you to keep it, and give me one like it in return."

"Well do tell me what it is, fust," ses she, and I seed her cut her eye at Miss Carline, and sort o' smile.

"But, will you give me one in return?" ses I.

"What, Majer?-tell me what?"

"I'll tell you Crismus eve," ses I. in return?"

"But will you give me yours

"Yours! eh, my—.' then her face got as red as a poppy, and

she looked down.

"You know what, Miss Mary," ses I.

"Will you?"

She didn't say nothin', but blushed worse and worse. "Now, mind," ses I, "I must have a answer Crismus eve." "Well," ses she-and then she looked up and laughed, and sed, "Exchange is no robbery, is it, sister Carline?"

"No, sis," ses she, "but I reckon Joseph got his pay 'bout the same time you stole his—"

"Stop, stop, sister, Majer didn't say his heart—”

"There, there!" ses Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah, clappin' ther hands, and laughin' as loud as they could "there, there, little innocent sister has let the cat out of the bag, at last! I told you so, Majer."

I never felt so good afore in all my born days, and Miss Mary, pore gall, hid her face in her hands and begun to cry, she felt so about it. That's the way with the galls, you know; they always cry when they feel the happyest. But I soon got her in a good humor, and then I went home.

I'm gwine to bring her right up to the scratch Crismus, or I ain't here.

Crismus is over, and the thing is done did! You know I told you in my last letter I was gwine to bring Miss Mary up to the chalk on Crismus. Well, I done it, slick as a whistle, though it come mighty nigh bein' a serious bisness. But I'll tell you all

about the whole circumstance.

The fact is, I's made my mind up more'n twenty times to jest go and come right out with the whole business; but whenever I got whar she was, and whenever she looked at me with her witchin' eyes, and kind o' blushed at me, I always felt sort o' skeered and fainty, and all what I made up to tell her was forgot, so I couldn't think of it to save me. But you's a married man, Mr. Thompson, so I couldn't tell you nothin' about popin the question, as they call it. It's a mighty grate favor to ax of a pretty gall, and to people what ain't used to it, it goes monstrous hard, don't it? They say widders don't mind it no more'n nothin'. But I'm makin' a transgression, as the preacher ses.

Crismus eve I put on my new suit, and shaved my face as slick as a smoothin' iron, and after tea went over to old Miss Stallinses,

As soon as I went into the parler, whar they was all settin' round the fire, Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah both laughed right out. "There! there! "ses they, "I told you so! I know'd it would be Joseph."

"What's I done, Miss Carline?" ses I.

"You come under little sister's chicken bone, and I do believe she know'd you was comin' when she put it over the dore." "No, I didn't-I didn't no such thing, now!" ses Miss Mary; and her face blushed red all over.

"Oh, you needn't deny it," ses Miss Kesiah; "you belong to Joseph now, jest as sure as ther's any charm in chicken bones."

I know'd that was a first-rate chance to say something, but the dear little creeter looked so sorry and kep' blushin' so, I couldn't say nothin' zactly to the pint! so I tuck a chair and reached up and tuck down the bone and put it in my pocket.

"What are you gwine to do with that old chicken bone now, Majer?" ses Miss Mary.

"I'm gwine to keep it as long as I live," ses I, "as a Crismus present from the handsomest gall in Georgia."

When I sed that, she blushed worse and worse.

"Ain't you 'shamed, Majer?" ses she.

"Now you ought to give her a Crismus gift, Joseph, to keep all her life," sed Miss Carline.

"Ah," ses old Miss Stallins, "when I was a gall we used to hang up our stockins-"

Why, mother!" ses all of 'em, "to say stockins right before-"

Then I felt a little streaked, too, 'cause they was all blushin' as hard as they could.

"Highty-tity!" ses the old lady-" what monstrous 'finement, to be shore! I'd like to know what harm ther is in stockins. People nowadays is gittin so mealy-mouthed they can't call nothin by its right name, and I don't see as they's any better than the old-time people was. When I was a gall like you, child, I use to hang up my stockins and git 'em full of presents.” The galls kep laughin' and blushin'.

"Never mind," ses Miss Mary, "Majer's got to give me a Crismus gift-won't you, Majer?"

"Oh, yes," ses I, "you know I promised you one.' "But I didn't mean that," ses she.

"I've got one for you, what I want you to keep all your life, but it would take a two-bushel bag to hold it," ses I.

"Oh, that's the kind!" ses she.

"But will you promise to keep it as long as you live?" ses I. "Certainly I will, Majer."

"Monstrous 'finement nowadays-old people don't know nothin' about perliteness," said old Miss Stallins, jest gwine to sleep with her nittin in her lap.

"Now you hear that, Miss Carline," ses I. "She ses she'll keep it all her life."

"Yes, I will," ses Miss Mary-" but what is it?"

"Never mind," ses I, "you hang up a bag big enough to hold it and you'll find out what it is, when you see it in the mornin'." Miss Carline winked at Miss Kesiah, and then whispered to her-then they both laughed, and looked at me as mischievous as they could. They 'spicioned something.

"You'll be shore to give it to me, now, if I hang up a bag!" ses Miss Mary.

"And promise to keep it," ses I.

"Well, I will, cause I know that you wouldn't give me nothin' that wasn't worth keepin'."

They all agreed they would hang up a bag for me to put Miss Mary's Crismus present in, on the back porch, and about ten o'clock I told 'em good evenin' and went home.

I sot up till midnight, and when they was all gone to bed I went softly into the back gate, and went up to the porch, and thar, shore enough, was a great big meal-bag hangin' to the jice. It was monstrous unhandy to git to it, but I was 'termined not to back out. So I sot some chairs on top of a bench and got hold of the rope, and let myself down into the bag; but jest as I was gittin in, it swung agin the chairs, and down they went with a terrible racket; but nobody didn't wake up but Miss Stallinses. old cur dog, and here he come rippin' and tearin' through the yard like rath, and round and round he went tryin' to find what was the matter. I scrooch'd down in the bag, and didn't breathe louder nor a kitten, for fear he'd find me out, and after a while he quit barkin'.

The wind begun to blow 'bominable cold, and the old bag kep' turnin' round and swingin' so it made me seasick as the mischief. I was afraid to move for fear the rope would break and let me