“Think so, do ye?”
“Yes, I do; and everybody else ought to, instead of laughing and chuckling over it.”
“That may be, mister, but ye see you don’t own it, and may be I’d get myself into trouble if I were to run my sled agin it purposely. Should like to oblige ye, neighbor, but guess I’d better not. Charcoal! Charcoal! Hard and soft charcoal!” he shouted, jerking the reins for the old horse to move on.
“Gee, Buck! Haw, Barry!”
It was a farmer driving his oxen drawing a load of wood, swinging his goad-stick, who shouted it. The team came to a standstill by the figure.
“What’s up?” the farmer inquired.
“The Sons of Liberty have perpetrated a rascally trick, by setting this effigy in front of this gentleman’s store,” said Mr. Richardson.
“What’d they do that for?”
“’Cause he agreed not to sell tea, and then, finding he’d made a bad bargain, backed out of it; and now I’d like to have ye hitch yer oxen to the thing and snake it to Jericho.”