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Who Spoke Next by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
page 14 of 45 (31%)
I have since, I do hate to say it, been called the skunk gun
repeatedly. To be sure, no one that has any reverence in his nature
speaks of me in this way. Uncle John had not much, but his son, the
father of that little girl, treats me with due respect, and forbids
them to call me the skunk gun.

I was once the defender of liberty, and am ready to be so again. I
was not made to kill skunks, those disgusting little animals. I hate
to think of them.

Pardon me for keeping you listening to me so long; I have done. I
wish to hear now what that respectable-looking broadsword has to
say. We two ought to be friends."

"I was born a gentleman," said the broadsword. "I was always
considered the sign, the symbol of one. Not many years since, a
sword was so essential to the character of a gentleman that a man
without one by his side, was, in fact, not considered a gentleman.

My master, who was also yours, Mr. Curlingtongs, was one the
officers in the company of Cadets at its first formation. He had the
honorable title of Major, and all his best friends called him Major.
Little did I think once that I should be condemned to the disgrace
of spending my old age in a garret with crooked curling tongs,
broken pitchers, old baize gowns, noseless tea-kettles, old
crutches, a foot stove, and, worse than all, a spinning wheel.

My only peers here are the venerable musket and the respectable wig.
Even they have seen too much hard service to be able fully to
appreciate the feelings of a gentleman who has been brought up as I
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