Mr. Chunky was sorry to observe that his Honorable friend had misunderstood his language. The line he had used was simply this:
"The rose you deftly cull-ed, man."
Mr. Waddles was glad that his valued friend from New Hampshire had apologized. He had only taken exception to what he considered a fatal heresy.
That was enough for me, my boy, and I left the hall of legislation; for I sometimes become a little wearied when I hear too much of one thing, my boy.
I mentioned my impression to the Venerable Gammon, and says he:
"Congress is the soul of the nation. Congress," says the Venerable Gammon, with fat benignity, "is something like a wheel, whose spokes tend to tire."
He said this remarkable thing in an overtowering way, my boy, and I felt myself to be a crushed infant before him.
Early in the week, I took my usual trip to Paris, and found Company 3, Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade, making an advance from the further shore of Duck Lake, for sanitary reasons. It was believed to be detrimental to the health of the gay Mackerels to be so near a body of pure water, my boy, for they were not accustomed to the element.
"Thunder!" says the general, brushing off a small bit of ice that had adhered to his nose, "they'll be drinking it next."
Captain Samyule Sa-mith was ordered to command the advance; but when he heard that the Southern Confederacy had two swivels over there, he was suddenly taken very sick, and cultivated his bed-clothes.