Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

“Well,” says I, “seems to me I feel more dry than I do hungry now. Ain’t you a mind to take these ere biscuits again and give me a glass of cider?” and says he:

“I don’t care if I do.”

So he took and laid ’em on the shelf again, and poured out a glass of cider. I took the cider and drinkt it down, and to tell the truth, it was capital good cider. Then says I:

“I guess it’s time for me to be a-going,” and I stept along towards the door; but says he:

“Stop, Mister, I believe you haven’t paid me for the cider.”

“Not paid you for the cider!” says I; “what do you mean by that? didn’t the biscuits that I give you just come to the cider?”

“Oh, ah, right!” says he.

So I started to go again, and says he:

“But stop, Mister, you didn’t pay me for the biscuit.”

“What?” says I, “do you mean to impose upon me? do you think I am going to pay you for the biscuits and let you keep them too? Ain’t they there now on your shelf? What more do you want? I guess, Sir, you don’t whittle me in that way.”

So I turned about and marched off, and left the feller staring and scratching his head as tho’ he was struck with a dunderment.

Howsomever, I didn’t want to cheat him, only jest to show ’em it wan’t so easy a matter to pull my eye-teeth out; so I called in next day, and paid him two cents. Well, I stayed at Aunt Sally’s a week or two, and I went about town every day to see what chance I could find to trade off my axe-handles, or hire out, or find some way or other to begin to seek my fortune.

And I must confess the editor of the “Courier” was about right in calling Portland a pretty good thriving sort of a place; everybody seemed to be as busy as so many bees, and the masts of the vessels stuck up round the wharves as thick as pine-trees in Uncle Joshua’s pasture, and the stores and the shops were so thick, it seemed as if there was no end to them. In short, altho’ I have been round the world considerable, from that time to this, all the way from Madawaska to Washington, I’ve never seen any place yet, that I think has any business to grin at Portland.

-----

[8] By Zeba Smith.

VIII.
BILLY WARRICK’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.