It is a little singular, but it is true, that scarcely any native writer has succeeded better in giving what is termed the true "Yankee dialect," than a foreigner, an Englishman, Judge Haliburton, of Nova Scotia, "Sam Slick." Hear him describe a pretty, heartless bar-maid, whom he met at the "Liner's Hotel, in Liverpool:"
"What a tall, well-made, handsome piece of furniture she is, ain't she, though? Look at her hair—ain't it neat? And her clothes fit so well, and her cap is so white, and her complexion so clear, and she looks so good-natured, and smiles so sweet, it does one good to look at her. She's a whole team and a horse to spare, that's a fact. I go and call for three or four more glasses than I want, every day, just for the sake of talking to her. She always says,
"'What will you be pleased to have, sir!'
"'Something,' says I, 'that I can't have,' looking at her pretty mouth—about the wickedest.
"Well, she laughs, for she knows well enough what I mean; and she says,
"'Pr'aps you'll have a glass of bitters, sir,' and off she goes to get it.
"Well, this goes on three or four times a day; every time the identical same tune, only with variations. It wasn't a great while afore I was there agin.
"'What will you be pleased to have, sir?' said she agin, laughin'.
"'Something I can't git,' says I, a-laughin' too, and lettin' off sparks from my eyes like a blacksmith's chimney.