The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 19 of 362 (05%)
page 19 of 362 (05%)
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and I began to think it warn't quite so bad arter all,
when whop went my cigar right out of my mouth into my bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burnt me like a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time, and I got a crack on the pate from some critter or another that clawed and scratched my head like any thing, and then seemed to empty a bushel of sut on me, and I looked like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratch himself. My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin, or some such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I could catch it, to wring its infarnal neck off, that's a fact. "Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here was to clean and groom up agin' till all was in its right shape; and a pretty job it was, I tell you. I thought I never should get the sut out of my hair, and then never get it out of my brush again, and my eyes smarted so, they did nothing but water, and wink, and make faces. But I did; I worked on and worked on, till all was sot right once more. "'Now,' sais I, 'how's time?' 'half past seven,' sais I, 'and three hours and a half more yet to breakfast. Well,' sais I, 'I can't stand this--and what's more I won't: I begin to get my Ebenezer up, and feel wolfish. I'll ring up the handsum chamber-maid, and just fall to, and chaw her right up--I'm savagerous.'* 'That's cowardly,' sais I, 'call the footman, pick a quarrel with him and kick him down stairs, speak but one word to him, and let that |
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