“Off with you, for a hypocritical,[115] psalm-singing, canting rogue in disguise,” said Mason scornfully. “By the life of Washington! it worries an honest fellow to see such voracious[116] beasts of prey ravaging a country for which he sheds his blood. If I had you on a Virginian plantation for a quarter of an hour, I’d teach you to worm the tobacco with the turkeys.”
“I leave you, and shake the dust off my shoes, that no remnant of this wicked hole may tarnish the vestments of the godly!”
“Start, or I will shake the dust from your jacket, designing knave! But hold! whither do you travel, master blackey, in such godly company?”
“He goes,” said the minister, “to return with a book of much condolence to the sinful youth above. Would you deprive a dying man of the consolation of religion?”
“No, no; poor fellow, his fate is bad enough. But harkee, Mr. Revelations, my advice is that you never trust that skeleton of yours among us again, or I will take the skin off and leave you naked.”
“Out upon thee for a reviler and scoffer of goodness!” said Birch, moving slowly, and with a due observance of clerical dignity, down the road, followed by the imaginary Cæsar.