revitalization

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undoubtedly subsisted in the period to which the traditions are referred. The argument of the Iliad mainly turns on the affection of Achilles for Patroclus, whose love for the greater hero is only tempered by reverence for his higher birth and his unequalled prowess. But the mutual regard which united Idomeneus and Meriones, Diomedes and Sthenelus, though, as the persons themselves are less important, it is kept more in the back-ground, is manifestly vi

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on'y our traps was mos' all los'.  Ef we hadn' dive' so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn' ben so dark, en we warn't so sk'yerd, en ben sich punkin-heads, as de sayin' is, we'd a seed de raf'.  But it's jis' as well we didn't, 'kase now she's all fixed up agin mos' as good as new, en we's got a new lot o' stuff, in de place o' what 'uz los'.” “Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jim--did you catch her?” “How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods?  No; some er de niggers foun' her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben', en dey hid her in a crick 'mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin' 'bout which un 'um she b'long to de mos' dat I come to heah 'bout it pooty soon, so I ups en settles de trouble by tellin' 'um she don't b'long to none uv um, but to you en me; en I ast 'm if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman's propaty, en git a hid'n for it?  Den I gin 'm ten cents apiece, en dey 'uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo' raf's 'ud come along en make 'm rich agin. Dey's mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I wants 'm to do fur me I doan' have to ast 'm twice, honey.  Dat Jack's a good nigger, en pooty smart.” “Yes, he is.  He ain't ever told me you was here; told me to come, and he'd show me a lot of water-moccasins.  If anything happens _he_ ain't mixed up in it.  He can say he never seen us together, and it 'll be the truth.” I don't want to talk much about the next day.  I reckon I'll cut it pretty short.  I waked up about dawn, and was a-going to turn over and go to sleep again when I noticed how still it was--didn't seem to be anybody stirring.  That warn't usual.  Next I noticed that Buck was up and gone. Well, I gets up, a-wondering, and goes down stairs--nobody around; everything as still as a mouse.  Just the same outside.  Thinks I, what does it mean?  Down by the wood-pile I comes across my Jack, and says: “What's it all about?” Says he: “Don't you know, Mars Jawge?” “No,” says I, “I don't.” “W