“Then he did a leadin’ article on slavery, and a paragraph on non-intervention, and spoke a little soft sawder about America, and wound up by askin’ me if he had made himself onderstood.
“‘Plain as a boot-jack,’ sais I.
“When that was over, he took breath. He sot back on his chair, put one leg over the other, and took a fresh departur’ agin.
“‘I have read your books, Mr. Slick,’ said he, ‘and read ‘em, too, with great pleasure. You have been a great traveller in your day. You’ve been round the world a’most, haven’t you?’
“‘Well,’ sais I, ‘I sharn’t say I hante.’
“‘What a deal of information a man of your observation must have acquired.’ (He is a gentlemanly man, that you may depend. I don’t know when I’ve see’d one so well mannered.)
“‘Not so much, Sir, as you would suppose,’ sais I.
“‘Why how so?’ sais he.
“‘Why,’ sais I, ‘the first time a man goes round the world, he is plaguy skeered for fear of fallin’ off the edge; the second time he gets used to it, and larns a good deal.’
“‘Fallin’ off the edge!’ sais he; ‘what an original idea that is. That’s one of your best. I like your works for that they are original. We have nothin’ but imitations now. Fallin’ off the the edge, that’s capital. I must tell Peel that; for he is very fond of that sort of thing.’