"May I ask your name, my friend?"
He said his name was Gumbs.
"May I inquire what your Christian name is?"
He said it was William Henry.
"Well, William Henry Gumbs," I exclaimed, "gaze at me! Do I look like a man who would slay a human being in cold blood?"
"Hm-m-m, n-no; you don't," he replied, with an air of critical consideration.
"But I AM!" said I, fiercely—"I AM; and I tell you now that if you undertake to relate that anecdote about the farmer's wife I will blow you into eternity without a moment's warning; I will, by George!"
Mr. Gumbs instantly jumped up, placed his hand on the railing of the porch, and got over suddenly into the crowd. He stood there pointing me out to the bystanders, and doubtless advancing the theory that I was an original kind of a lunatic, who might be expected to have at any moment a fit which would be interesting when studied from a distance.
The chairman looked around, intending to call upon my friend Mr. Gumbs; but not perceiving him, he came to me and said: