“ ‘No,’ sez I; ‘an’ ef you sez I begun it I’ll larrup you in er inch of your life.’
“Sez he, ‘You eternal ole cuss, ef you want to larrup me, just larrup away as soon as you darn please, and we’ll see which ’ill get the wust of it.’
“ ‘Now,’ sez I, ‘I likes you, Arch, ’cause I all’ays thought you was a fust-rate feller; but ain’t you been ’busin’ me everywhere fur everything you could think of?’
“ ‘Yes,’ sez he, ‘but didn’t you say you’d git hold of me one of these days, and make me see sites?’
“ ‘No,’ sez I, ‘I didn’t: but this here’s what I sed, sez I, ef that feller, Arch Cooney, don’t mind which side of his bread’s buttered, I’ll get hold of him one of those days and make him see sites.’
“ ‘Well,’ sez he, ‘Uncle Mike, you knows I’m the most peace’blest feller living, and always mind which side of my bread’s buttered, and ef that’s all you sed, ’taint nothin’; so let’s take er drink.’
“Then he tuck out er tickler of whiskey, and arter he’d tuck three or four swallers out’n it, sez he:
“ ‘Uncle Mike, obleege me by taking er horn.’
“ ‘No,’ sez I, ‘I won’t do no such er dog on thing, for when I likes er chap, I likes him, and when I don’t like him, I don’t like him: but if you wants to fight, I’m your man.’
“You oughter seen Arch then, I think he was the most maddest man that ever wobbled on two ’hind legs.’ He rar’d an’ pitched, an’ cussed an’ swore like anything.