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The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 56 of 362 (15%)
But his notebook was safe under lock and key, and the
pigs in New York, and the chap the rats eat in jail, and
the rough man from Kentucky, and the entire raft of galls
emprisoned in one night, and the spittin' boxes and all
that stuff, warn't trusted to memory, it was noted down,
and printed.

"But it tante no matter. Let any man give me any sarce
in England, about my country, or not give me the right
_po_-sition in society, as Attache to our Legation, and,
as Cooper says, I'll become belligerent, too, I will, I
snore. I can snuff a candle with a pistol as fast as
you can light it; hang up an orange, and I'll first peel
it with ball and then quarter it. Heavens! I'll let
daylight dawn through some o' their jackets, I know.

"Jube, you infarnal black scoundrel, you odoriferous
nigger you, what's that you've got there?"

"An apple, massa."

"Take off your cap and put that apple on your head, then
stand sideways by that port-hole, and hold steady, or
you might stand a smart chance to have your wool carded,
that's all."

Then taking a pistol out of the side-pocket of his
mackintosh, he deliberately walked over to the other side
of the deck, and examined his priming.

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