“I know it,” says I. “Men was cheaper than any other breed of blood-hounds the planters had employed to hunt men and wimmen with, and more faithful.”
“Yes,” he said. “It was doubtless a case of clear econimy.”
And says I, “The laws have been changed to benifit whisky-dealers.”
“Wall, yes,” he said. “It had been changed to enable whisky-dealers to utelize the surplufus liquor they import.” Says he, gettin' kinder animated, for he was on a congenial theme,—
“Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on how much whisky will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the whisky-dealers suffer loss, the laws had to be changed.
“And then,” says he, growin' still more candid in his excitement, “we are makin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the tax off of whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greater quantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of the nation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and the laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male custodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron before it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be, faithful unto death.”
Says I, “As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said I had convinced you that Dorlesky's errents wus errents of truth and justice, and you would love to do 'em.”