A Yankee pedlar with his cart, overtaking another of his class on the road, was thus addressed: "Hallo, what do you carry?" "Drugs and medicines," was the reply. "Good," returned the other, "you may go ahead; I carry grave-stones."
JOSHUA BILLINGS ON HORSES.—562.
Pedigree iz not important for a fast-trotten' hoss; if he kan trot fast, never mind the pedigree. Thare iz a grate menny fast men even who ain't got no pedigree. Thare ain't much art in drivin' a trotten' hoss; just hold him back hard, and holler him ahead hard, that's awl. A hoss will trot the fastest down hill, espeshili if the birchin brakes. Kuller is no kriterior. I have seen awful mean hosses of all kullers, except green. I never seed a mean one of this kuller. Hosses live tew an honorabil old age. I often seen them that appeared fully prepared for deth. Heathens are awlus kind to hosses; it is among Christian people that a hoss haz to trot three mile heats in a hot day, for 25,900 dollars counterfeit munny.
AMERICAN CURIOSITY.—563.
"You're from down East, I guess?" said a sharp, nasal voice behind me. This was a supposition first made in the Portland cars, when I was at a loss to know what distinguishing and palpable peculiarity marked me as a "down-easter." Better informed now, I replied, "I am."—"Going West?" "Yes."—"Travelling alone?" "No."—"Was you raised down East?" "No, in the Old Country."—"In the little old island? Well, you're kinder glad to leave it, I guess? Are you a widow?" "No."—"Are you travelling on business?" "No."—"What business do you follow?" "None."—"Well, now, what are you travelling for?" "Health and pleasure."—"Well, now, I guess you're pretty considerable rich. Coming to settle out West, I suppose?" "No, I'm going back at the end of the fall."—"Well, now, if that's not a pretty tough hickory-nut! I guess you Britishers are the queerest critturs as ever was raised!"
YANKEE INQUISITIVENESS.—564.
One of the last stories of Yankee inquisitiveness makes the victim give his tormentor a direct cut, in telling him he wished to be asked no further questions. The inquisitor fell back a moment to take breath, and change his tactics. The half-suppressed smile on the faces of the other passengers soon aroused him to further exertions; and, summoning up more resolution, he then began again. "Stranger, perhaps you are not aware how mighty hard it is for a Yankee to control his curiosity. You'll please excuse me, but I really would like to know your name and residence, and the business you follow. I expect you ain't ashamed of either of 'em, so now won't you just obleedge me?" This appeal brought out the traveller, who, rising up to the extremest height allowed by the coach, and throwing back his shoulders, replied: "My name is General Andrew Washington. I reside in the State of Mississipi. I am a gentleman of leisure, and, I am glad to be able to say, of extensive means. I have heard much of New York, and I am on my way to see it; and, if I like it as well as I am led to expect, I intend to—buy it." Then was heard a shout of stentorian laughter throughout the stage-coach, and this was the last of that conversation.