“Whoever takes a fancy to skin you, whether dead or alive, will have a tough job of it, I reckon,” sais I, “it’s as tight as the bark of a tree.”
“For two pins,” said he, “I’d tan your hide for you now.”
“Ah,” said I, “you are usin’ your sain before you pay for it. That’s not fair.”
“Why?” said he.
“Because,” sais I, “you are insaine to talk that way.”
“Well, well,” said he, “you do beat the devil.”
“You can’t say that,” sais I, “for I hain’t laid a hand on you. Come,” sais I, “wake snakes, and push off with the Captain, and get the fish on board. Cutler, tell the mate, mackarel is five dollars the barrel, and nets thirty each. We shall join you presently, and so, friend Judd, you had better put the licks in and make haste, or there will be ‘more fiddling and dancing and serving the devil this morning.’”
He turned round, and gave me a look of intense hatred, and shook his fist at me. I took off my hat and made him a low bow, and said “That’s right, save your breath to cool your broth, or to groan with when you get home, and have a refreshing time with the Come-outers.
“My father was a preacher,
A mighty holy man;
My mother was a Methodist,
But I’m a Tunyan.”
He became as pale as a mad nigger at this. He was quite speechless with rage, and turning from me, said nothing, and proceeded with the captain to the boat. It was some time before the party returned from the lake, but the two waggons were far apart, and Jessie and the doctor came last—was it that the road was bad, and he was a poor driver? perhaps so. A man who loves the woods don’t know or care much about roads. It don’t follow because a feller is a good shot, he is a good whip; or was it they had so much to say, the short distance didn’t afford time? Well, I ain’t experienced in these matters, though perhaps you are, Squire. Still, though Cupid is represented with bows and arrows (and how many I have painted on my clocks, for they always sold the best), I don’t think he was ever sketched in an old one-hoss waggon. A canoe would have suited you both better, you would have been more at home there. If I was a gall I would always be courted in one, for you can’t romp there, or you would be capsized. It’s the safest place I know of. It’s very well to be over head and ears in love, but my eyes, to be over head and ears in the water, is no place for lovemaking, unless it is for young whales, and even they spout and blow like all wrath when they come up, as if you might have too much of a good thing, don’t they?