the prayer there was in our family, and didn't leave any for his boys."
"Bill Gillam, you used to 'tend meetin' afore you come to Californy; what do you say?"
"Raly, Gabe, yer Honor, ef yer please, I don't feel ekal to the task."
After calling upon several others with like results, Gabe knelt down and offered up a fervent but homely petition to the Throne of Grace for guidance during the trial. He prayed that the hearts of the jurors might be softened towards the accused, so that they might judge the prisoner at the bar justly, and deal with him rightly. He pleaded for courage to perform the disagreeable duty that had been imposed on him, and closed with an appeal for mercy for him whose hands were yet warm with the blood of a fellow-being.
"I say, Judge, let's have something to drink afore we go any further with this ere show," said the prisoner; "that dern long prayer of yourn has made me feel as dry as a tinder-box."
"Well, I don't keer ef I do take a little tarantaler juice to make things run smooth," replied the Court. The sheriff, without waiting for orders, hastened to fetch the liquors and some glasses from the bar. His Honor and the prisoner took a drink together, the latter saying:
"I drink to the success of yer show; now go ahead and get through with this dern nonsense. I want to get back to my game."
The sheriff was going to remove the bottle, when
