"I say,
Blowem, that was a capital hit of yours, making old Gurdy swear he was
king of the mountains."
"Not half as good as yours, Monk, telling the witness he couldn't be a
partner, for the plaintiff had put in all the 'stock in hand,' and he
had only put in his 'stock in feet.'"
They are full of stories, too, tragic as well as comic, picked up in
the circuits.
"Jones, do you know Mc Farlane of Barney's River, a Presbyterian
clergyman? He told me he was once in a remote district there where no
minister had ever been, and visiting the house of a settler of Scotch
descent, he began to examine the children.
"'Well, my man,' said he, patting on the shoulder a stout junk of a
boy of about sixteen years of age, 'can you tell me what is the chief
end of man?'
"'Yes, Sir,' said he. 'To pile and burn brush.'1
1 In clearing woodland, after the trees are chopped down and cut into
convenient sizes for handling, they are piled into heaps and burned.
"'No it ain't,' said his sister.
"'Oh, but it is though,' replied the boy, 'for father told me so
himself.'
"'No, no,' said the minister, 'it's not that; but perhaps, my dear,'
addressing the girl, 'you can tell me what it is?'
"'Oh, yes, Sir,' said she, 'I can tell you, and so could John, but he
never will think before he speaks.'
"'Well, what is it, dear?'
"'Why, the chief end of man, Sir, is his head and shoulders.
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