a noise like a man driving pigs to market, he plucked up
courage, and thought he might do it easy arter all if he
was to open the door softly, and make one spring on him
afore he could wake. So round he goes, lifts up the latch
of his door as soft as soap, and makes a jump right atop
of him, as he lay on the bed. I guess I got you this
time, said Nabb: I guess so too, said Bill, but I wish
you would'nt lay so plaguy heavy on me--jist turn over,
that's a good fellow, will you? With that Bill lays his
arm on him to raise him up, for he said he was squeezed
as flat as a pancake, and afore Nabb knew where he was,
Bill rolled him right over and was atop of him. Then he
seized him by the throat, and twisted his pipe till his
eyes were, as big as saucers, and his tongue grew six
inches longer, while he kept making faces for all the
world like the pirate that was hanged on Monument Hill
at Boston. It was pretty near over with him, when Nabb
thought of his spurs; so he just curled up both heels,
and drove the spurs right into him; he let him have it
jist below his cruper; as Bill was naked he had a fair
chance, and he ragged him like the leaf of a book cut
open with your finger. At last, Bill could stand it no
longer; he let go his hold and roared like a bull, and
clapping both hands ahind him, he out of the door like
a shot. If it had'nt been for them are spurs, I guess
Bill would have saved the hangman a job of Nabb that
time.

The Clockmaker was an observing man, and communicative.
Nothing escaped his notice; he knew every body's genealogy,