But I hadn't no idee of being waiter to my pussy cousin, anyhow. If Jase has a mind to send his invite to a lord, done up like a cocked hat, let him be his own nigger, or else send it by the post-office—I wasn't a going to do it for him nor touch it. No lord that is any great shakes will think the better of an honest Republican for acting as if he was scared to ask him to eat dinner, or tickled to death if he didn't feel tu much stuck up to come with plain Yankee asking.
I made up my mind, that if Lord Morpeth took a notion to eat Thanksgiving with Jase, he'd be jest as likely to get his paper cocked hat from the Post Office, as anywhere. So, as I was a going through the Park, I took the consarn between my thumb and finger, for fear of siling it, and tucked it through a slit in the post office, made a purpose for city letters; and off I went, a tickling myself eenamost to death, with thinking how the post office clarks would giggle and stare, and snuff up their noses to see such a pinted critter directed to a Lord, and a smelling so sweet, with a long tail of names curled up in all the corners,—and Lord Morpeth, tu, wouldn't he set our Jase down for a shaller pated coot? I've a kind of a sneaking notion that it's as like as not he would, but that's none of my bisness. In this country, a feller aint to blame for his relations, that's one comfort.
Your loving son,
Jonathan Slick.
[LETTER XXIV.]
Description of Cousin Jason's Equipage—Figure cut by Mrs. Jason Slick and her Daughter—Manners of a Noble Lord—The Dinner—Jason boasts of his Birth, Heraldry, and Coat of Arms—Jonathan creates great Consternation by proclaiming the Head of the Family as a Shoemaker—Makes a Speech.
Dear Par:
Wal, next day was Thanksgiving, and down come another letter to say that Lord Morpeth was a coming, and that Jase was a going to send down his span fired new carriage to the Astor House, arter Lord Morpeth and I, afore dinner time; and he gin me to understand, that if I could keep the carriage a spell afore the Astor House steps, where folks could get a chance to see the new fixings and horses, there wouldn't be no harm done to nobody,—the darned mean pussy coot! When a feller tries to make me do a mean thing I'm awful ugly, my Yankee grit is up in a jiffy, and I'm jest like a skeery horse that al'rs backs up hill when you want to lead him down.