“Yes, ’squire, but not so ugly as old Wallis; thar’s nuthin but deth can eekal him. Howsever, less leave bailin’ the boat twell mornin’, and go and stay with old Billy to-night, and then you’ll see for yourself.”
So, instead of sleeping at the Horse-shoe, we spent the night with old Billy and his folks; and we had a rare time there, I assure you.
XIII.
KICKING A YANKEE.[[11]]
A very handsome friend of ours, who a few weeks ago was poked out of a comfortable office up the river, has betaken himself to Bangor, for a time, to recover from the wound inflicted upon his feelings by our “unprincipled and immolating administration.”
Change of air must have had an instantaneous effect upon his spirits; for, from Galena, he writes us an amusing letter, which, among other things, tells us of a desperate quarrel that took place on board of the boat between a real live dandy tourist, and a real live Yankee settler. The latter trod on the toes of the former; whereupon the former threatened to “Kick out of the cabin” the latter.
“You’ll kick me out of this cabing?”
“Yes Sir, I’ll kick you out of this cabin!”
“You’ll kick me, Mr. Hitchcock, out of this cabing?”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll kick you, Mr. Hitchcock!”
“Wal, I guess,” said the Yankee, very coolly, after being perfectly satisfied that it was himself who stood in such imminent peril of assault—“I guess’ since you talk of kicking, you’ve never heard me tell about old Bradley and my mare, there, to hum?”