" Mr. Sheriff becomes more
and more enlightened on the unenlightened difficulties of the law.
He remarks, touching M'Carstrow on the arm, with great seriousness
of countenance, "I sees how the knot's tied. Ye know, my functions
are turned t' most everything; and it makes a body see through a
thing just as straight as--. Pest on't! Ye see, it's mighty likely
property,--don't strike such every day. That gal 'll bring a big tick
in the market-"
"Excuse me, my dear sir," M'Carstrow suddenly interrupts.
"Understand me, if you please. I want her for nothing that you
contemplate,--nothing, I pledge you my honour as a southern
gentleman!"
"'Ah,--bless me! Well, but there's nothin' in that. I see! I see! I
see!" Mr. Sheriff brightens up, his very soul seems to expand with
legal tenacity. "Well, ye see, there's a question of property raised
about the gal, and her young 'un, too-nice young 'un 'tis; but it's
mighty easy tellin' whose it is. About the law matter, though, you
must get the consent of all the plaintiff's attorneys,--that's no
small job. Lawyers are devilish slippery, rough a feller amazingly,
once in a while; chance if ye don't have to get the critter valued
by a survey. Graspum, though's ollers on hand, is first best good at
that: can say her top price while ye'd say seven," says Mr. Sheriff,
maintaining his wise dignity, as he reminds M'Carstrow that his name
is Cur, commonly called Mr. Cur, sheriff of the county. It must not
be inferred that Mr.
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