does him harm. I mean Yankee religion."

"I have another objection to Yale," observed Capt. Hugh Roger, "which is
their English."

"Och!" exclaimed the Colonel--"Deir English is horriple! Wuss dan ast to us
Tutch."

"Well, I was not aware of that," observed my father. "They are English,
sir, as well as ourselves, and why should they not speak the language as
well as we?"

"Why toes not a Yorkshireman, or a Cornishman, speak as veil as a Lonnoner?
I tell you what, Evans, I'll pet the pest game-cock on ter Neck, against
the veriest tunghill the parson hast, ter Presitent of Yale calls p e e n,
pen, ant roof, ruff--and so on."

"My birds are all game," put in the divine; "I keep no other breed."

"Surely, Mr. Worden, _you_ do not countenance cock-fights by your
presence!" my mother said, using as much of reproach in her manner as
comported with the holy office of the party she addressed, and with her own
gentle nature. The Colonel winked at my father, and laughed _through his
pipe_, an exploit he might have been said to perform almost hourly. My
father smiled in return; for, to own the truth, he _had_ been present
at such sports on one or two occasions, when the parson's curiosity had
tempted him to peep in also; but my grandfather looked grave and much in
earnest. As for Mr. Worden himself, he met the imputation like a man. To do
him justice, if he were not an ascetic, neither was he a whining hypocrite,
as is the case with too many of those who aspire to be disciples and