Now if you was writin' and not me, you
would have to call it, to please the people, that flourishing great
capital of the greatest colony of Great Britain, the town with the
harbour, as you say of a feller who has a large handle to his face,
the man with the nose, that place that is destined to be the London of
America, which is a fact if it ever fulfils its destiny. The little
scrubby dwarf spruces on the coast are destined not to be lofty pines,
because that can't be in the natur of things, although some folks talk
as if they expected it; but they are destined to be enormous trees,
and although they havn't grown an inch the last fifty years, who can
tell but they may exceed the expectations that has been formed of
them? Yes, you would have to give it a shove, it wants it bad enough,
and lay it on thick too, so as it will stick for one season.
It reminds me of a Yankee I met at New York wunst, he was disposin' of
a new hydraulic cement he had invented. Now cements, either to resist
fire or water, or to mend the most delicate china, or to stop a crack
in a stove, is a thing I rather pride myself on. I make my own cement
always, it is so much better than any I can buy.
Sais I, "What are your ingredients?"
"Yes," sais he, "tell you my secrets, let the cat out of the bag for
you to catch by the tail. No, no," sais he, "excuse me, if you
please.
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