But proudly erect among the falling timbers stood Pettingill, his
face flashing with wild triumph; and he shouted: "If I'm any
judge of pyrotechny, THAT rocket has went off."

Then seeing that all the fingers on his right hand had been taken
close off in the explosion, he added: "And I ain't so dreadful
certain but four of my fingers has went off with it, because I
don't see 'em here now!"

3.9. THE LAST OF THE CULKINSES.

A DUEL IN CLEVELAND--DISTANCE TEN PACES--BLOODY RESULT--FLIGHT OF
ONE OF THE PRINCIPALS--FULL PARTICULARS.

A few weeks since a young Irishman name Culkins wandered into
Cleveland from New York. He had been in America only a short
time. He overflowed with book learning, but was mournfully
ignorant of American customs, and as innocent and confiding
withal as the Babes in the Wood. He talked much of his family,
their commanding position in Connaught, Ireland, their immense
respectability, their chivalry, and all that sort of thing. He
was the only representative of that mighty race in this country.
"I'm the last of the Culkinses!" he would frequently say, with a
tinge of romantic sadness, meaning, we suppose, that he would be
the last when the elder Culkins (in the admired language of the
classics) "slipped his wind." Young Culkins proposed to teach
Latin, Greek, Spanish, Fardown Irish, and perhaps Choctaw, to
such youths as desired to become thorough linguists. He was not
very successful in this line, and concluded to enter the office
of a prominent law firm on Superior Street as a student. He dove