The Squire replied, that "he shouldn't sit still and hear such talk from any man. He didn't care 'bout his brother—it warn't that—but to hear the patriots of our country slandered was a species of high treason, and that was agin the constitution; and that 'ere insterment couldn't be violated in his presence by no man—he was a sworn officer—and the glorious blood of the great wars was a sacred thing in his eye—and it should be protected."
Turtle declared, "it didn't make any difference what the Squire's brother did, or did not do—it didn't help the Squire any. He guessed the Squire's blood had Peter'd out."
The Squire said, "he was the last man to boast of his relations, but blood was blood, whatever they might say."
On the famous night when the election came off, the tavern of Bulliphant was crowded. A dozen or more ragged urchins, who had been barred out by authority contained in the notice, had clustered around the windows, and were gazing in with awe upon the assemblage. The "wimin" had been admitted by special grace, and occupied the adjoining rooms. It was a most momentous occasion—a great day for Puddleford—"it looked so much like war," as Aunt Sonora said, "as if they were a-goin' to fight right off."
The Squire rose, after the crowd had gathered, and said, "the first thing in order was to drink—it wouldn't be proper to enter into any important military business, without first drinking to our common country—and he wished the landlud to set on a gallon of baldface—the Puddleford name for whiskey—so the wheels could be started right."
"And another thing," exclaimed Turtle; "we want the American flag and an eagle, these 'ere glorious symbols that went along with our forefathers when they were a fightin' for the liberties of our country!" but as Puddleford had no flag, a compromise was made, and the meeting concluded to nail a shilling pocket-handkerchief, which had one painted on it, to the bar, leave out the eagle, and take the whiskey.
Squire Longbow took the chair, and said, "he would listen to anything the meetin' had to say. He was by la' inspector of elections."
Turtle objected—"he didn't know whether he'd take the chair or not—that was for the meetin' to say."
The Squire said, "he took it by virtue of bein' a member of the board of inspectors of township elections—and this was one of 'em—a regular township 'lection, and nothin' else, held by authority of la', under the statert, past and 'proved, and sent him as justis to be lived up to."
Turtle replied, "he didn't see how the Squire was a board of inspectors; 'cordin' to his own showin'—where's the township clerk, and where's the supervisor—have you swallow'd 'em all up, Mr. Longbow?" He objected, and he wanted his objection noted—taken down in black and white.