"It's quite proper you should eat a little suthin' once in a while," I said. "It's a good idee to occasionally instruct the stummick that it mustn't depend excloosively on licker for its sustainance."
"A blessin'," he cried; "a blessin' onto the hed of the man what invented beans. A blessin' onto his hed!"
"Which his name is GILSON! He's a first family of Bostin," said I. . . . .
This is a speciment of how things was goin' in my place of residence. . . . .
A few was true blue. The schoolmaster was among 'em. He greeted me warmly. He said I was welkim to those shores. He said I had a massiv mind. It was gratifyin', he said, to see the great intelleck stalkin' in their midst onct more. I have before had occasion to notice this schoolmaster. He is evidently a young man of far more than ord'nary talents.
The schoolmaster proposed we should git up a mass meetin'. The meetin' was largely attended. We held it in the open air round a roarin' bonfire.
The schoolmaster was the first orator. He's pretty good on the speak. He also writes well, his composition bein' seldom marred by ingrammatticisms. He said this inactivity surprised him. "What do you expect will come of this kind of doin's? Nihil fit—"
"Hooray for Nihil!" I interrupted. "Fellow-citizens, let's giv three cheers for Nihil, the man who fit!"
The schoolmaster turned a little red, but repeated—"Nihil fit."
"Exactly," I said. "Nihil FIT. He wasn't a strategy feller."