"Now the bees know how to sarve out such chaps, for they have their
drones too. Well they reckon it's no fun, a-makin' honey all summer,
for these idle critters to eat all winter, so they give 'em Lynch
Law. They have a regular built mob of citizens, and string up the
drones like the Vicksburg gamblers. Their maxim is, and not a bad one
neither I guess, 'no work, no honey.'"
No. IV
Conversations at the River Philip.
It was late before we arrived at Pugnose's inn--the evening was cool,
and a fire was cheering and comfortable. Mr. Slick declined any share
in the bottle of wine, he said he was dyspeptic; and a glass or two
soon convinced me that it was likely to produce in me something worse
than dyspepsy. It was speedily removed and we drew up to the fire.
Taking a small penknife from his pocket, he began to whittle a thin
piece of dry wood, which lay on the hearth; and, after musing some
time said--
"I guess you've never been in the States?"
I replied that I had not, but that before I returned to England I
proposed visiting that country.
"There," said he, "you'll see the great Daniel Webster; he's a great
man, I tell you; King William, number four, I guess, would be no
match for him as an orator--he'd talk him out of sight in half an
hour. If he was in your house of Commons, I reckon he'd make some
of your great folks look pretty streaked--he's a true patriot and
statesman, the first in our country, and a most particular cute
lawyer.
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