THE HONEYMOON
XXII. A DISH OF CLAMS
XXIII. THE DEVIL'S HOLE; OR, FISH AND FLESH
XXIV. THE CUCUMBER LAKE
XXV. THE RECALL
CHAPTER I.
A SURPRISE.
Thinks I to myself, as I overheard a person inquire of the servant at
the door, in an unmistakeable voice and tone, "Is the Squire to hum?"
that can be no one else than my old friend Sam Slick the Clockmaker.
But it could admit of no doubt when he proceeded, "If he is, tell him
I am here."
"Who shall I say, Sir?"
The stranger paused a moment, and then said, "It's such an everlastin'
long name, I don't think you can carry it all to wunst, and I don't
want it broke in two. Tell him it's a gentleman that calculates to
hold a protracted meeten here to-night. Come, don't stand starin'
there on the track, you might get run over. Don't you hear the engine
coming? Shunt off now."
"Ah, my old friend," said I, advancing, and shaking him by the hand,
"how are you?"
"As hearty as a buck," he replied, "though I can't jist jump quite so
high now."
"I knew you," I said, "the moment I heard your voice, and if I had not
recognised that, I should have known your talk."
"That's because I am a Yankee, Sir," he said, "no two of us look
alike, or talk alike; but being free and enlightened citizens, we jist
talk as we please.
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