The Squire turned to Aunt Sonora, and declared that "it was the last time she should speak. They had sham fights most every year," continued the Squire, "and he recollected that, while pursuin' the enemy in an open field, he fell from his horse, and bruised his head, but he caught his horse agin, and jined his company, 'fore anybody knew what had happened."
Turtle rose, and inquired, "What he put on his head? If it warn't opodildoc?"
"And that company," continued the Squire, disregarding Turtle's question, "is in existence yet, and is commanded by Captain Zekiel—Zekiel—Zekiel—I don't know what his t'other name is; and there ain't no time, feller-citizens, sin' it's bin a company, that it wouldn't er turned out in war if there'd bin a war, and they'd bin called on, feller-citizens."
Turtle Said "he know'd about the last war, and he never heer'd of that company of Hos Guards nowhere."
"Ah! but you see!" answered the Squire, "they weren't called on—and he might as well say that he was lef-tenant onc't in the great Pennsylvaney militia—not that he wanted to be captain of this company—and he might a 'gone higher, but he wouldn't take it—his former wife, that's dead and gone, know'd that. And then, feller-citizens, there's a great deal of la' 'bout our militia, and if a captin don't know the la', everything will be illegal, and every son of you will be called up and court-martialed, and fined, and 'prisoned, and your property taken and sold; and there ain't no 'peelin' it up, for military laws ain't like other laws, feller-citizens, they ain't—"
"That's a lie!" exclaimed Turtle.
"Who says that's a lie?" vociferated the Squire, jerking his head around. "What's a lie?"
"It's all a lie!" repeated Ike.
"Give me that 'ere statement," roared the Squire. It was handed up. "By authority in me vested, in that 'ere book, I fine you one dollar. It's a contempt, sir—a contempt upon both a justice of the peace, and a 'spector of 'lections. I oughter say two dollars—it's a double contempt—I fine you one dollar, sir; and you can't vote, sir, here, sir, in this 'ere meetin', sir, while you're under contempt, sir, until you pay the dollar, sir—and I might sue you for special damages, sir, but I don't care 'bout that, sir—it is my office that I am protectin';" and the Squire sat down in the midst of his unfinished speech, filled with wrath.
Squire Longbow was very sincere in his position which he had so confidently taken. He had been so long a magistrate, and "head man" of Puddleford, and he had been so closely identified with its public affairs, that he felt himself always in court, and every personal insult was construed by him into a contempt. Turtle humored the weakness of the old man, when his dignity was in jeopardy, and on this occasion he felt no alarm, for he knew that the fine would never be collected. Turtle owed the Squire more fines already than he was worth.