“‘Very glad to see you, Mr. Yankee,’ said he, ‘very glad indeed. Shall I have de honour to ride with you a little way in your carriage?’
“‘As for the matter of that,’ sais I, ‘Mountsheer Prince, the honour is all the other way,’ for I can be as civil as any man, if he sets out to act pretty and do the thing genteel.
“With that he jumped right in, and then he said somethin’ in French to the officers; some order or another, I suppose, about comin on and fetchin’ his hoss with them. I have hearn in my time, a good many men speak French, but I never see the man yet, that could hold a candle to him. Oh, it was like lightnin’, jist one long endurin’ streak; it seemed all one sentence and one word. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t onderstand it, it was so everlastin’ fast.
“‘Now,’ sais he, ‘set sail.’ And off we sot, at the rate of sixteen notts an hour. Old Clay pleased him, you may depend; he turned round and clapped his hands, and larfed, and waved his hat to his officers to come on; and they whipped, and spurred, and galloped, and raced for dear life; but we dropped ‘em astarn like any thing, and he larfed again, heartier than ever There is no people a’most, like to ride so fast as sailors; they crack on, like a house a fire.
“Well, arter a while, sais he, ‘Back topsails,’ and I hauled up, and he jumped down, and outs with a pocket book, and takes a beautiful gold coronation medal. (It was solid gold, no pinchback, but the rael yaller stuff, jist fresh from King’s shop to Paris, where his money is made), and sais he, ‘Mr. Yankee, will you accept that to remember the Prince de Joinville and his horse by?’ And then he took off his hat and made me a bow, and if that warn’t a bow, then I never see one, that’s all. I don’t believe mortal man, unless it was a Philadelphia nigger, could make such a bow. It was enough to sprain his ankle he curled so low. And then off he went with a hop, skip, and a jump, sailor fashion, back to meet his people.
“Now, Squire, if you see Lord Stanley, tell him that story of the Prince de Joinville’s horse; but before you get so far as that, pin him by admissions. When you want to get a man on the hip, ax him a question or two, and get his answers, and then you have him in a corner, he must stand and let you put on the bridle. He cant help it no how, he can fix it.
“Says you, ‘My Lord’—don’t forget his title—every man likes the sound of that, it’s music to his ears, it’s like our splendid national air, Yankee Doodle, you never get tired of it. ‘My Lord,’ sais you, ‘what do you suppose is the reason the French keep Algiers?’ Well, he’ll up and say, it’s an outlet for the fiery spirits of France, it gives them employment and an opportunity to distinguish themselves, and what the climate and the inimy spare, become valuable officers. It makes good soldiers out of bad subjects.
“‘Do you call that good policy?’ sais you.
“Well, he’s a trump, is Mr. Stanley, at least folks say so; and he’ll say right off the reel ‘onquestionably it is—excellent policy.’
“When he says that, you have him bagged, he may flounder and spring like a salmon jist caught; but he can’t out of the landin’ net. You’ve got him, and no mistake. Sais you ‘what outlet have you for the colonies?’