"'Then you're from the States down yonder?' rejoined the old man.
"'Just so!'
"'Ah,—go-ahead fellers down there, they are! But they've got to mind their moves just about this time.'
"'Seeing it's you, Jacob,—and knowing that you must be worn down with toil, s'pose we strike a trade in a small sort of way?' Jacob shook his head, and replied:
"'Like your folks for their masterly energies, but rather not trade.'
"'That won't do, old fellow: you must come out on the new principles of civilizations. Who knows that we may make an arrangement to annex your little establishment to these United States! Young America has, you see, yet to fulfil the functions of manifest destiny.'
"'Don't, pray don't, bring your Young America about my dominions!' he exclaimed, interrupting just as John Littlejohn was about to speak.
"John spoke, inquiring if his preferences were not for him? He knew old Jacob would like to annex his dominions to Great Britain, seeing that he carried out his annexation in a quiet sort of way. Jacob laughed right out—laughed irresistibly; laughed as if he meant it for something. 'To be honest with you, gentlemen, and I know you'll excuse me for being out-spoken,—I want nothing to do with either of you. You'll both steal territory; and as for you, Young America, take a word of honest advice—be contented with what has honestly fallen to you, covet not that which is thy neighbor's, but improve what thou hast of thine own. At the same time, take particular care how thou sail in this very lofty atmosphere. Your manifest destiny may fall into martyrdom.'
"'That's right good advice, Uncle,' said I, (interrupting him), but it would be better it did not smack so strong of that fogyism whose obstinate policy won't let the progress of those United States come out. Anyhow, Jacob, seeing that you have got such a nice stock of territory, dotted with fascinating hills and plains, upon which good speculations can be made in starting a speculation in churches, as has become the fashion, doing a little in the tin business, laying a few railroads, and building up factory villages, we must have a treaty of commerce—at all events!'
"'No! no! no! You've large inards, Jonathan; and your youngest son,—Young America,—has got such a pair of eyes! I'm afraid of him. No objection to joining in three cheers for Hail Columbia, almost any time; but save me from your claws. You're both great pirates: pray be merciful to your neighbors, and spare me my Independence. Your little place down there is become troubled with wars and rumours of wars;—the shedding of innocent blood in streams at the caprice of imbecile princes, who make the bones and blood of their subjects the waste material with which to serve their incarnate ambition, tells me to beware. Beware of ambitious princes; the world would be well rid of them!'