Meantime the dance went bravely on, Black Betty circulated somewhat freely, and the mirth of the revelers grew more and more boisterous. Taking advantage of a slight cessation in the general hilarity, about nine o'clock in the evening, and while the fiddler with some of the party were engaged in partaking of refreshment, Seth Stokes, encouraged doubtless by the inspiration he had received from the whiskey, stepped boldly into the middle of the apartment with the bottle in his hand, and said:
"Jest allow me, my jollies, to give a toast."
"Harken all! A toast—a toast—from the long man o' the bony frame!" cried the voice of Sam Switcher. A laugh, and then silence followed.
"Here's to—to Isaac and Peggy Younker—two beauties!" continued Seth. "May thar union be duly acknowledged by the rising generation o' old Kaintuck;" and the speaker gravely proceeded to drink.
"Bravo! bravo!" cried a dozen voices, with a merry shout, accompanied with great clapping of bands; while Isaac, who was sitting by his new wife, arose, blushed, bowed rather awkwardly, and then sat down again.
"Isaac! Isaac!—A toast from Isaac!" shouted a chorus of voices.
Isaac at first looked very much confused—scratched his head and twisted around in a very fidgetty manner,—but presently his countenance flushed, and a smile of triumph crossing his sharp features, announced that he had been suddenly favored with an idea apropos. This was instantly perceived by some of the wags standing near, one of whom exclaimed:
"I see it—it's coming!"
"He's got it!" said a second.
"I knew it—I'd ha' bet a bar-skin he'd fetch it," cried a third.