Scrape. Yes, very likely; but I this moment recollect the creature has no shoes on. Der. Well, is there not a blacksmith hard by? Scrape. What that tinker of a Dobson? I would not trust such a bungler to shoe a goat. No, no; none but uncle Tom Thumper is capable of shocing my mare. Der. As good luck would have it, then, I shall pass right by his door. Scrape. (Calling to his son.) Timothy, Timothy. Here's neighbor Derby, who wants the loan of the gray mare, to ride to town to-day. You know the skin was rubbed off her back last week a hand's breadth or more. (He gives Tim a wink.) However, I believe she is well enough by this time. You know, Tim, how ready I am to oblige my neighbors. And, indeed, we ought to do all the good we can in this world. We must certainly let neighbor Derby have her, if she will possibly answer his purpose. Yes, yes; I see plainly, by Tim's countenance, neighbor Derby, that he's disposed to oblige you. I would not have refused you the mare for the worth of her. If I had, I should have expected you would have refused me in your turn. None of my neighbors can accuse me of being backward in doing them a kindness. Come, Timothy, what do you say? Tim. What do I say, father? Why, I say, sir, that I am no less ready than you are to do a neighborly kindness. But the mare is by no means capable of performing the journey. About a hand's-breadth did you say, sir? Why, the skin is torn from the poor creature's back, of the bigness of your broad-brimmed hat. And, besides, I have promised her, as soon as she is able to travel, to Ned Saunders, to carry a load of apples to the market. Scrape. Do you hear that, neighbor? I am very sorry matters turn out thus. I would not have disobliged you for the price of two such mares. Believe me, neighbor Derby, I am really sorry, for your sake, that matters turn out thus. Der. And I as much for yours, neighbor Scrapewell; for, to tell you the truth, I received a letter this morning from I Mr. Griffin, who tells me, if I will be in town this day, he will give me the refusal of all that lot of timber which he is about cutting down upon the back of Cobblehill; and I intended you should have shared half of it, which would have been not less than fifty dollars in your pocket. But, as your Scrape. Fifty dollars, did you say? Der. Ay, truly did I; but as your mare is out of order, I'll go and see if I can get old Roan, the blacksmith's horse. Scrape. Old Roan! My mare is at your service, neighbor. Here, Tim, tell Ned Saunders he can't have the mare. Neighbor Derby wants her; and I won't refuse so good a friend anything he asks for. Der. But what are you to do for meal? Scrape. My wife can do without it this fortnight, if you want the mare so long. Der. But then your saddle is all in pieces. Scrape. I meant the old one. I have bought a new one since, and you shall have the first use of it. Der. And you would have me call at Thumper's, and get her shod? Scrape. No, no; I had forgotten to tell you, that I let neighbor Dobson shoe her last week, by way of trial; and, to do him justice, I must own, he shoes extremely well. Der. But if the poor creature has lost so much skin from off her back Scrape. Poh, poh! That is just one of our Tim's large stories. I do assure you, it was not at first bigger than my thumb-nail; and I am certain it has not grown any since. Der. At least, however, let her have something she will eat, since she refuses hay. Scrape. She did indeed refuse hay this morning; but the only reason was, that she was crammed full of oats. You have nothing to fear, neighbor; the mare is in perfect trim; and she will skim you over the ground like a bird. I wish you a good journey and a profitable job. 15* LETTER FROM A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE. -BIGLOW PAPERS, DEAR SIR,-You wish to know my notions Ez bein' mum or underhand; So, to begin at the beginnin', Thet is, I mean, it seems to me so, An', fact, it don't smell very strong; An' say wich party hez most sense; There may be folks o' greater talence Thet can't set stiddier on the fence. I'm an eclectic; ez to choosin' 'Twixt this an' thet, I'm plaguy lawth; Ez preudunt statesmun say, who've planned O' chances ez to ware they'll stand. LATE WPAPERS Ez fer the war, I go agin' it,- The best way wuz to fight it thru ; About thet darned Proviso matter Ez to the answerin' o' questions, Fer the holl country, an' the ground I don't appruve o' givin' pledges; You'd ough' to leave a feller free, Thet preudent farmers don't turn out,- Ez to the slaves, there's no confusion I think they air an Institution, On thet pint you yourself may jedge; Nor I haint never signed no pledge. Ez to my principles, I glory In hevin' nothin' o' the sort; I'm jest a candidate, in short; P. S. Ez we 're a sort o' privateerin', O' course, you know, it's sheer an' sheer, An' ez the North has took to brustlin' An' give our side a harnsome boost,~ An' leaves me frontin' South by North. 1 |
