fust Egyptian that follers is drowned, for the water has
closed over him. Sarves him right, too, what business
had he to grasp my life-preserver without leave. I have
enough to do to get along by my own wit, without carry
in' double.

"'Where is the Prince? Didn't they say he was a comin'?
Who was that went out? He don't look like the Prince; he
ain't half so handsum, that feller, he looks, like a
Yankee.' 'Why, that was Sam Slick.' 'Capital, that! What
a droll feller he is; he is always so ready! He desarves
credit for that trick.' Guess I do; but let old Connecticut
alone; us Slickville boys always find a way to dodge in
or out embargo or no embargo, blockade or no blockade,
we larnt that last war.

"Here I am in the street agin; the air feels handsum. I
have another invitation to-night, shall I go? Guess I
will. All the world is at these two last places, I reckin
there will be breathin' room at the next; and I want an
ice cream to cool my coppers, shockin' bad.--Creation!
It is wus than ever; this party beats t'other ones all
holler. They ain't no touch to it. I'll jist go and make
a scrape to old uncle and aunty, and then cut stick; for
I hante strength to swiggle my way through another mob.

"'You had better get in fust, though, hadn't you, Sam?
for here you are agin wracked, by gosh, drove right slap
ashore atween them two fat women, and fairly wedged in
and bilged. You can't get through, and can't get out, if