He had a neat little cart painted green , with a box of cigars depicted on each side-panel , and an Indian chief holding a pipe and a golden tobacco-stalk on the rear . The pedler drove a smart little mare and was a young man of excellent character , keen at a bargain , but none the worse liked by the Yankees , who , as I have heard them say , would rather be shaved with a sharp razor than a dull one . Especially was he beloved by the pretty girls along the Connecticut , whose favor he used to court by presents of the best smoking-tobacco in his stock , knowing well that the country-lasses of New England are generally great performers on pipes . Moreover , as will be seen in the course of my story , the pedler was inquisitive and something of a tattler , always itching to hear the news and anxious to tell it again . After an early breakfast at Morristown the tobacco-pedler -- whose name was Dominicus Pike -- had travelled seven miles through a solitary piece of woods without speaking a word to anybody but himself and his little gray mare . It being nearly seven o'clock , he was as eager to hold a morning gossip as a city shopkeeper to read the morning paper . An opportunity seemed at hand when , after lighting a cigar with a sun-glass , he looked up and perceived a man coming over the brow of the hill at the foot of which the pedler had stopped his green cart . Dominicus watched him as he descended , and noticed that he carried a bundle over his shoulder on the end of a stick and travelled with a weary yet determined pace . He did not look as if he had started in the freshness of the morning , but had footed it all night , and meant to do the same all day . `` Good-morning , mister , '' said Dominicus , when within speaking-distance . `` You go a pretty good jog . What 's the latest news at Parker 's Falls ? '' The man pulled the broad brim of a gray hat over his eyes , and answered , rather sullenly , that he did not come from Parker 's Falls , which , as being the limit of his own day 's journey , the pedler had naturally mentioned in his inquiry . `` Well , then , '' rejoined Dominicus Pike , `` let 's have the latest news where you did come from . I 'm not particular about Parker 's Falls . Any place will answer . '' Being thus importuned , the traveller -- who was as ill-looking a fellow as one would desire to meet in a solitary piece of woods -- appeared to hesitate a little , as if he was either searching his memory for news or weighing the expediency of telling it . At last , mounting on the step of the cart , he whispered in the ear of Dominicus , though he might have shouted aloud and no other mortal would have heard him . `` I do remember one little trifle of news , '' said he . `` Old Mr. Higginbotham of Kimballton was murdered in his orchard at eight o'clock last night by an Irishman and a nigger .
They strung him up XXXXX the branch of a St. Michael 's pear tree where nobody would find him till the morning . ''
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