"Bout four rods to the starbud," screamed the boy.

"Jes so," screeched the capting. "What wessel's that air?"

"Kickin Warier of Terry Hawt, and be darned to you!"

"I, I, Sir!" hollered our capting. "Reef your arft hoss, splice
your main jib-boom, and hail your chamber-maid! What's up in Terry
Hawt?"

"You know Bill Spikes?" said the capting of the Warier.

"Wall, I reckin. He can eat more fride pork nor any man of his heft
on the Wabash. He's a ornament to his sex!"

"Wall," continued the capting of the Kickin Warier. "Wilyim got a
little owly the tother day, and got to prancin around town on that
old white mare of his'n, and bein in a playful mood, he rid up in
front of the Court 'us whar old Judge Perkins was a holdin Court,
and let drive his rifle at him. The bullet didn't hit the Judge at
all; it only jes whizzed parst his left ear, lodgin in the wall
behind him; but what d'ye spose the old despot did? Why, he
actooally fined Bill ten dollars for contempt of Court! What do
you think of that?" axed the capting of the Warier, as he parst a
long black bottle over to our capting.

"The country is indeed in danger!" said our capting, raisin the
bottle to his lips. The wessels parted. No other incidents that
day. Retired to my chased couch at 5 minits parst 10.