For the space of another year the widow T—engrosses the current of his thoughts, and becomes the constant theme of his talk. And yet it is not at all probable that he ever met her, either before her husband’s death or after, when she was supposed to be in the matrimonial market. As he journeyed along down life, always on the same themes of cows and matrimony, some of the neighbors at whose house he used to stop would deem him crazy. Well, if he were so, it was madness always with a method to it, and in his bargains about his cows he frequently displayed considerable shrewdness and business ability. A distant farmer came to him one day to make a bargain to get two cows to double as already described. It so happened that the cattle were out in the field, and they together went out to see them. In talking over the details of the bargain the farmer sat down upon a convenient stump. During the weariness of a lengthened conversation he, as he sat, happened to begin trotting his foot and contracting the fingers of his left hand, which the quick eye of Uncle Ned noticed.
“Are you a fiddler?”
“Yes, I fiddle sometimes.”
“You can’t have any of my cows, for I never knew a fiddler to be worth anything in my life,” and he wouldn’t let him have the cows at all.
So far as I know he was never known to actually address himself to the object of his affections for the time being, and likewise the theme of his talk, but the once. This time he called upon a farmer and asked him if he knew of Mr. E.—’s girls. The farmer told him he did, but that he (Uncle Ned) was crazy. Said he in reply, “Do you know, Ezra, why there is no danger of your ever going crazy?”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Well, you don’t know enough. It’s only bright men who go crazy.”
In this instance the farmer takes Uncle Ned to Mr. E—’s and gives him a kind of general introduction to the father, mother and two daughters assembled, in this wise: “See here, folks, this is Mr. S—in search of a wife.”
“Come in, sir, come in.” The girls, seeing a huge chance for fun, lent themselves to the joke, and so kept it up for the space of a couple of years. At the termination of each visit, as he was about to set out, one of the girls would put in a plea for a new dress, which Uncle Ned would promise faithfully to bring, and he was generally as good as his promise. At the next visit the other girl would ask for a piece of cloth, and again, as before, he brought it. For the whole two years the girls did not discover which one of them was the object of his affections or regard. Still his visits continued during the intervals spared from his dealings about his cows, and the idea of matrimony never for a moment left his brain.
There are not many records extant of duels having been fought in Canada. The following was possibly one of the last, and perhaps the most amusing instance of such “honorable combat”: