XXIII.

DOING A SHERIF F.

A GEORGIA SKETCH.

MANY persons in the county of Hall, State of Georgia, recollect a queer old customer who used to visit the county site regularly on "General Muster" days and Court Week. His name was Joseph Johnson, but he was universally known as Uncle Josey. The old man, like many others of that and the present day, loved his dram, and was apt, when he got among "the boys" in town, to take more than he could conveniently carry. His inseparable companion on all such occasions was a black pony, who rejoiced in the name of "General Jackson," and whose diminutiveness and sagacity were alike remarkable.

One day, while court was in session in the little village of Gainesville, the attention of the Judge and bar was attracted by a rather unusual noise at the door. Looking towards that aperture, "his honour" discovered the aforesaid pony and rider deliberately entering the Hall of Justice. This, owing to the fact that the floor of the court house was nearly on a level with the ground, was not difficult.

"Mr. Sheriff," said the Judge, "see who is creating such a disturbance of this court."

"It's only Uncle Josey and Ginʼrel Jackson, Judge," said the intruder, looking up with a drunken leer, “Jest me an' the Gin'rel come to see how you an' the boys is gettin' along."

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Well, Mr. Sheriff," said the Judge, totally regardless of the interest manifested in his own and the lawyers' behalf, by Uncle Josey, "you will please collect a fine of ten dollars from Uncle Josey and the General, for contempt of court."

"Look-a-here, Judge, old feller," continued Uncle Josey, as he stroked the "Ginʼral's” mane, you don't mean to say it, now do yer? This child hain't had that much money in a coon's

age,

and as for the Gin'ral here, I know he don't deal in

no kind of quine, which he hain't done, 'cept fodder and corn, for these many years."

"Very well, then, Mr. Sheriff," continued his honour, "in default of the payment of the fine, you will convey the body of Joseph Johnson to the county jail, there to be detained for the space of twenty-four hours."

"Now, Judge, you ain't in right down good yearnest, is you?-Uncle Josey hain't never been put into that there boardin' house, yet, which he don't want to be, neither," appealed the old man, who was apparently too drunk to know whether it was a joke or not.

"The sheriff will do his duty, immediately," was the Judge's stern reply, who began to tire of the old man's drunken insolence. Accordingly, Uncle Josey and the "Gin'ral" were marched off towards the county prison, which stood in a retired part of the village. Arriving at the door, the prisoner was commanded by the sheriff to "light."

"Look-a-here, Jess, horse-fly, you ain't a gwine to put yer old Uncle Josey in there, is yer?”

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"Bliged to do it, Uncle Josey," replied the sheriff, "ef I don't, the old man (the judge) will give me goss when I go back. I hate it powerful, but I must do it."

"But, Jess, couldn't you manage to let the old man git away? Thar ain't nobody here to

see you. Now do, Jess, you know how I fit for you, in that last run you had 'long er Jim Smith, what like to a beat you for sheriff, which he would a done it, if it hadn't been for yer Uncle Josey's influence."

"I know that, Uncle Josey, but thar ain't no chance. My oath is very pinted against allowin’ anybody to escape. So you must go in, cos thar ain't no other chance."

"I tell you what it is, Jess, I'm afeared to go in thar. Looks too dark and dismal."

"Thar ain't nothing in thar to hurt you, Uncle Josey, which thar hain't been for nigh about six months."

"Yes, thar is, Jess, you can't fool me that a-way. I know thar is somethin' in thar to ketch the old man."

"No thar ain't, I pledge you my honour thar ain't."

"Well, Jess, if thar ain't, you jest go in and see, and show Uncle Josey that you ain't afeared."

"Certainly, I ain't afeared to go in."

Saying which the sheriff opened the door, leaving the key in the lock. "Now, Uncle Josey, what did I tell you? I know'd thar wan't nothin' in thar."

May be thar ain't where you are standin', but jest le's see you go up into that dark place, in the corner."

"Well, Uncle Josey," said the unsuspecting sheriff, "I'll satisfy you thar ain't nothin' thar either," and he walked towards the "dark corner." As he did so, the old man dexterously closed the door and locked it.

"Hello! thar," yelled the frightened officer, "none o' yer tricks, Uncle Josey; this is carryin' the joke a cussed sight too fur."

"Joke! I ain't a jokin', Jess; never was more in yearnest in my life. Thar ain't nothin' in thar to hurt you though, that's one consolation. hold on a little while, and I'll send some of the boys down to let you out."

Jest

And before the "sucked in" sheriff had recovered from his astonishment, the pony and his master were out of hearing.

Uncle Josey, who was not as drunk as he appeared, stopped at the grocery, took a drink, again mounted the Gin'ral, and called the keeper of the grocery to him—at the same time drawing the key of the jail from his pocket.

"Here, Jeems, take this here key, and ef the old man or any them boys up thar at the Court-House