“ ‘Mr. Hitchcock, my old roan is ruined!’
“ ‘Du tell,’ says I.
“ ‘She is cut all to pieces,’ says he; ‘do you know whether she was in your stable, Mr. Hitchcock, last night?’
“Wal, mister, with this I let out:
“ ‘Do I know it?’—(the Yankee here, in illustration, made a sudden advance upon the dandy, who made way for him unconsciously, as it were)—‘Do I know it? you no-souled, shad-bellied, squash-headed, old night-owl you!—you hay-hookin’, corn-cribbin’, fodder-fudgin’, cent-shavin’, whitlin’-of-nuthin’ you!—Kate kicks like a mere dumb beast, but I’ve reduced the thing to a science!’ ” The Yankee had not ceased to advance, or the dandy, in his astonishment, to retreat; and now, the motion of the latter being accelerated by an apparent demonstration on the part of the former to “suit the action to the word,” he found himself in the “social hall,” tumbling backwards over a pile of baggage, and tearing the knees of his pants as he scrambled up, a perfect scream of laughter stunning him from all sides.
The defeat was total: a few moments afterwards he was dragging his own trunk ashore, while Mr. Hitchcock finished his story on the boiler deck.
| [11] | By J. M. Field. |
XIV.
WHY MR. SELLUM DISPOSED OF THE HORSE.
A MATTER OF FACT STORY.
Mr. Sellum is a horse-jockey; that is, when he is not more profitably employed, he is not ashamed, so he says, to “try his fort’n in that very respectable callin’.” He dropped in at Bailey’s bazaar a few weeks since; and very soon after Sellum arrived, a superb-looking charger, mounted by a graceful rider, pranced up the court, and entered the arena, to be sold at public vendue.