“If it pleases you, then be it so. Well, Ralleigh Burk, in the first place, I am not joking; and in the second place, you were very much mistaken when you concluded that my father disliked you. He had a supreme contempt for what he called stern-wheel politicians.”
“Oh, yes, I see; and he set me down in his mind as a stern-wheel politician.”
“I don’t say that, mind you, but he looked upon you as the villagers did on the old dog Tray, who was found in bad company. You see how it is, don’t you?”
“I think I do.”
“Well, now, I think my father would forgive you if you could satisfy him that you had quit politics and gone into some legitimate business.”
“Do you, indeed? how kind that would be of him! but suppose I had not quit politics, and that I had not gone into any legitimate business—in fact, suppose it should appear that I have not gone into anything except debt?”
“I think it would prevent your going into our family.”
“Then I suppose he would not object to my going head foremost into the Mississippi river?”
“Oh, by no means; I think he would rather see you do that than to see you in the Mississippi Legislature.”
“And may I ask which catastrophe would be most to your liking?”