Mayor—No.
Charley—What! dare not oppose the devil?
Mayor—What I have said, I have said.
Charley—If you trifle too much with my liver, dam me if I don’t kick you, and give you a black eye.
Mayor—I dare you to try it. I scout your threats, Charley, for I’m fortified so strongly through my supposed integrity, that they pass by me like incarcerated wind, which I can resist with a penny fan, or potato popgun. I did send to you for the legitimate keys of the Street Commissioner, which you refused me, for I despise false keys. By Juno, I would sell all the paint, and oil, and glass, and putty in my factory to the city, at a good price, before I would use false keys, or bamboozle the dear people, who think me so honest, and love me so intensely. I sent to you for the keys of Peter and Edward, which you denied me. Did not Charley err in that? Would I have treated Charley so? When Daniel is so mean as to refuse the keys of Blackwell’s Island to his Charley, be ready, Branch, with all your bombs, and dash out his honest and tender brains.
Charley—I denied you not. It’s a dam lie.
Mayor—I swear you did.
Charley—I did not. I gave the keys to the Turn-key, and told him to bring them to you. O! Daniel hath rent my liver, who should overlook my trivial faults, and not magnify them so hugely.
Mayor—I do, until you exaggerate my little peccadillos.
Charley—Daniel hates me.