withhold a laugh at seeing them laugh. 'Reckon how mas'r's on big
business to Washington wid Mr. General Pierce,' says one, whose face
was black, and bright, and full of the quizzical; while another, with
a flat crooked nose gave a cunning wink out of his left eye. This
being detected by a superior, in the brisk person of a son of the
Emerald Isle, who stood well six feet in his boots, a 'soucer' with
the broad front of his knuckle bones, between the colored gentleman's
two eyes, was the rejoinder--a most striking remonstrance, that laid
him measuring the floor. Troth! an' it's myself 'd stop yer
botheration. Sure, ye dark spalpeens, is it by the same token ye'd
trate the gintleman? (Here the honest son of sweet Erin showed signs
of his Doneybrook getting the better of him.) 'Myself 'll take care of
Mr. Smooth--doesn't he belong to the self same party, the
know-nothings? The divil a such a country, as Hamirike: an' it's the
boys from Donegal that 'ud be taking her dignity in care.' Saying
this, Mr. Patrick (for such was his name) stretched the whole length
of his important self over the table, and says:--I'm yers to the
buckle of my shoe, Mr. Smooth! It's a divil a one but yerself I'll
vote for at the next helection. Sure, an' didn't mysel jine the native
Hamerikan party, with Tom Connolly, afore we'd been two months on the
beloved soil an', sure, it's Tom and myself that's goin to put through
the _nonothin_ for ye.' Here Mr. Patrick anxiously paused for a
reply. To never say a bad thing when I could not think of a good, ever
has been my motto; so I returned his good nature with saying:--'Give
us yer hand, Mr. Patrick--we will forget the two, and yet be one! and
that our faith may be made strong, we will together do brown the
patriotism of these United States.

"'Ye better believe that!' returns Mr. Patrick, with an exultation of
happiness; and concluding with: 'I'd kill every nager in the land, be