"Oh, I arn't nice, by no manner of means," returned the American; "I can take considerable of anything now, but the nigger will like a beaker of rum best."
"Pray, sir," said Mrs. Cleopatra in a very stately manner, though meant to be very gracious, "what family has Mr. Backwoodsley? I was but a mere girl when he left Europe, though I can remember he was a fine tall portly gentleman."
"Possible! Well, now, ma'am, I should have guessed you'd been raised a purty middling awful long time afore that, to look at you: but, as you say, the 'squire's tall enough now, I calkilate, and so is all his family, for that matter; for Longfellow Backwoodsley, of Kiwigittyquag, measures six foot three in natur's stockings, and his sister Boadicea is but an inch and a half shorter. What family has the 'squire, did you say? Why, mighty near a dozen, I calkilate. Let's see: there's Travelout Backwoodsley, the oldest, he was the squatter as went to Tennessee; Longfellow, as I told you about, an awful smart gunner and racoon-catcher he is; Gumbleton, that is considerable of a lawyer in York State: Hoister, as went to sea; my ould woman as is to be, Boadicea; Increase-and-Multiply, the schoolmaster in Connecticut; Brandywine, what keeps the Rock of Columbia hotel at Boston, and a mighty powerful log-tavern it is as you'll see in a year's march; Leandish, that has the plate-house at Hoboken; Skinner, what set up the leather and finding store in Kentucky: I some think that's the tote, but four or five squeakers, squealers, younkers, whelps, and rubbish, that keeps about the ould log-house at home as yet. Pray how ould's your wife, 'squire? and where was she raised?"
"I suppose," said the physician, taking no notice of this question, "that Master Backwoodsley is growing rich, and likes his settlement, by his not coming back to England."
"Oh yaas! he conducts well, and likes his location," was the reply. "He bought at a good lay first, and then filled it with betterments, and farming trade, and creturs, and helps, and niggers, at an awful smart outlay of the dollars, I calkilate; but he has got along considerable well for all that. For sartain he is the yellow flower of the forest for prosperity. As for coming back, he used to say, when the war had a closure he would go to the ould country, and bring away the plunder he left behind; but about last fall the ague give him a purty particular smart awful shaking, and put him in an unhandsome fix, so the journey wouldn't convene. So one day, as I was a-looking over my snake-fence at Rams-Babylon, almost partly opposite to his clearing, what doos I see, but the 'squire coming along the road at a jouncing pace on his Narragansett mar, what is a real smasher at a trotting, and then he pulled up close to the zig-zag, and I stuck myself atop of a stake, and we held a talk. Says the 'squire, says he, 'Son-in-law Spanker P. Pokehorn as is to be'—my name's Anthony Spanker Pendleton Pokehorn, but he always shorts it,—'Son-in-law Spanker P. Pokehorn, I'll tell you what it is,—I guess I'm getting ould now, and more than that, I've a desp'ut ugly ague, what has made me quite froughy and brash to what I was, so that I should take two good blows of my fist to bring down a beef-cretur; which doosn't ought to be, when a man's only sixty. Now, you see, as I can't go to get in my debits and plunder from the ould country, I'll deed them all to you for thirty dollars cash, or lumber, or breadstuffs, or farmers' produce, if you admire; and the tote appreciates to mighty near two hundred, I guess.'"
"Well, sir," said Curetoun, "and on this account you have come to England?"
"Oh yaas!" answered the Columbian; "but at first I declined off to buy at a better lay; for arter higgling back and forth for a while, I give the 'squire but twenty dollars in all, and he give me the nigger, Ivory Whiteface there, besides. Sartain he was awful sharp to make an ugly bargain; but if he was the steel blade, I guess I was the unpierceable di'mond; and, for fear he should squiggle, I got all set down in black and white afore the authority, and a letter to Lawyer Sharples. Now I calkilate to put up all at auction, and to sell some notions of my own, what I've brought over in my plunder, to make more avails.—How do you allot upon that?"
"Why, sir," said Dr. Downwithit, "that sensible notions from America are very much wanted at this time, to show us the excellence of her equitable laws and liberties, and the purity of her religion. I say, sir, publish them. There's no doubt of their selling well and quickly for any bookseller——"
"The Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Pokehorn, with a shrill whistle and a sidelong glance at the minister, and then, turning to Curetoun, he said, "The ould 'squire's awful wordy; he's a Congress-man or a slang-whanger, I guess, or else he's mighty moosical, I reckon.—Bookseller!—Publish! —What doos he mean?—You tarnation nigger! who told you to laugh? You calkilate as I harn't got the cowskins here; but I'll whop you cooriously all as one.—I'll tell you what it is, friend, I doosn't know what you means, I doosn't."
"Why, Mr. Pokehorn, that you should print your American notions."