A half-dozen of his neighbors were by his side, and joined in the hilarity of the occasion.

I saw that something more than usual was the cause of their assembling, and inquired what it could be.
"My wife died this morning, and my friends have come here to see me," was the answer I received from the proprietor of the house.
Almost at the instant of completing the sentence, he burst into a laugh, and said, "It would have done you good to see how your folks captured a big drove of Price's cattle.

The Rebs were driving them along all right, and your cavalry just came up and took them.

It was rich, I tell you.
Ha! ha!" Not knowing what condolence to offer a man who could be so gay after the death of his wife, I bade him good-morning, and pushed on.

He had not, as far as I could perceive, the single excuse of being intoxicated, and his display of vivacity appeared entirely genuine.