"I do," replied the other, and proceeding with his recital, he said,
"You may have heard that a number of negro squatters were lately ejected
from a private estate in this State, after they had made the grounds to
blossom like the rose, and to bring forth like the herring."

"Yes, I heard that," said Mr. P.

"Well," said the other, "I happened to have some land near by, and I
invited those negroes to come and squat on my premises--"

"Intending to turn them off about blossoming time?" said Mr. P.

"Certainly, certainly," said the other, "and I am just waiting about
here until they put in a wheat crop on part of the land. I can then sell
that portion, right away."

"Well, Mr. BEN BUTLER," said Mr. P., "all that is easily understood, now
that I know who you are; but tell me this, why are you so careful to
cover your face when in the company of civilians or ladies, and yet go
about so freely among these ex-Confederate officers?"

"Oh," said the other, "you see I don't want to be known down here, and
some of the women or old men might remember my face. There's no danger
of any of the soldiers recognizing me, you know."

"Oh, no," cried Mr. P. "None in the world, sir."

"And besides," said the modest BUTLER, "it's too late now for me to be
spooning around among the women."