Hood. I do, sir, most assuredly.
D’A. You can take your choice, sir.
Myers (to D’Arneaux). I have no quarrel with you, sir. (To Hood.) You will hear from me in the morning. Your profession, sir?
Hood. It is honorable, sir. Be assured that I feel the degradation of the match as much as yourself.
Myers. This squabble with the free states has seemed to convey the idea to every scrub in the south that he must carry the honor of his own section on his own little back.
D’A. Squabble?
Myers. Well, what else? Neither section has an army, or a respectable ship of war. There are not ten thousand men in the country that know a right-shoulder shift from a present. This is a fanatical mob broke loose.
Brightly. Myers, it is cruelty to a lunatic to fight you.
Myers. Nothing collapses the vanity of a ponderous presumption so quick as a ridiculous fact.
Brightly (to Hood and D’Arneaux). Oh, he knows it all. (To Myers.) Look here. I knew of a Johnny Bull once that had the conceit taken out of him by a little nation that made a navy out of its little coasting schooners. It lays hard on Johnny’s stomach to this day.