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nant at the very proffer; and, though his friend talked loud, his clangor served but to aggravate Hal's anger. "My worthy fellow," cried the third, "now, really, this is too absurd. What do both of you forget, I have n't paid a farthing, yet? Am I eternally to cram, at your expense? T is childish, quite. I claim this payment as my right. Here, how much is the money, Sam?"
To this most rational proposal, the others gave such fierce negation, one might have fancied they were foes, all; so hot became the altercation, each in his purse his money rattling, insisting, arguing and battling. One of them cried, at last: "A truce! This point we will no longer moot. Wrangling for trifles is no use; and, thus we 'll finish the dispute:That we may settle what we three owe, we'll blindfold Sam, and whichsoe'er he catches of us first shall bear all the expenses of the trio, with half a crown (if that's enough) to Sam, for playing blindman's buff." Sam liked it hugely, thought the ransom for a good game of fun was handsome; gave his own handkerchief beside, to have his eyes sec ely tied, and soon began to grope and search; when the three knaves, I need n't say, adroitly left him in the lurch, slipped down the stairs and stole away. Poor Sam continued hard at work. Now o'er a chair he gets a fall; now floundering forwards with a jerk, he bobs his nose against the wall; and now encouraged by a subtle fancy that they 're near the door, he jumps behind it to explore, and breaks his shins against the scuttle; crying, at each disaster-"Drat it! Hang it ! 'od rabbit it!" and "Rat it! Just in the crisis of his doom, the host, returning, sought the room; and Sam no sooner heard his tread, than, pouncing on him like a bruin, he almost shook him into ruin, and, with a shout of laughter, said: "Huzza! I've caught you now; so down with cash for all, my half crown!" Off went the bandage, and his eyes seemed to be goggling o'er his forehead, while his mouth widened with a horrid look of agonized surprise. "Gull!" roared his master; "Gudgeon! dunce! fool, as you are, you 're right for once; 't is clear that I must pay the sum; but this one thought my wrath assuagesthat every half-penny shall come out of your wages!
18. THE FARMER AND THE COUNSELLOR. - - Horace Smith.
A COUNSEL in the Common Pleas, who was esteemed a mighty wit, upon the strength of a chance hit, amid a thousand flippancies, and his occasional bad jokes, in bullying, bantering, browbeating, ridiculing and maltreating women, or other timid folks, in a late cause, resolved to hoax a clownish Yorkshire farmer, -one, who, by his uncouth look and gait, appeared expressly meant by Fate for being quizzed and played upon. So, having tipped the wink to those in the back rows, who kept their laughter bottled down until our wag should draw the cork, he smiled jocosely on the clown, and went to work. "Well, Farmer Numscull, how go calves at York?" Why — not, Sir, as they do wi' you; but on four legs, instead of two."
cried the legal elf, piqued at the laugh against himself, "do pray keep silence down below, there. Now, look at me, clown, and attend; have I not seen you somewhere, friend?" "Yes, very like; I often go there." "Our rustic 's waggish - quite laconic!" the counsel cried, with grin sardonic; "I wish I'd known this prodigy, this genius of the clods, when I on circuit was at York residing. Now, Farmer, do for once speak true; mind, you 're on oath, so tell me, you who doubtless think yourself so clever, are there as many fools as ever in the West Riding?" Why, no Sir, no; we've got our share, but not so many as when you were there."
19. MR. PUFF'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.-Sheridan.
SIR, I make no secret of the trade I follow. Among friends and brother authors, I love to be frank on the subject, and to advertise myself vivâ vocé. I am, Sir, a practitioner in panegyric; or, to speak more plainly, a professor of the art of puffing, at your service — or anybody else's. I dare say, now, you conceive half the very civil paragraphs and advertisements you see to be written by the parties concerned, or their friends. No such thing; nine out of ten manufactured by me, in the way of business. You must know, Sir, that, from the first time I tried my hand at an advertisement, my success was such, that for some time after I led a most extraordinary life, indeed. Sir, I supported myself two years entirely by my misfortunes; by advertisements To the charitable and humane! and, To those whom Providence has blessed with affluence! And, in truth, I deserved what I got; for I suppose never man went through such a series of calamities in the same space of time. Sir, I was five times made a bankrupt, and reduced from a state of affluence, by a train of unavoidable misfortunes; then, Sir, though a very industrious tradesman, I was twice burned out, and lost my little all both times. I lived upon those fires a month. I soon after was confined by a most excruciating disorder, and lost the use of my limbs. That told very well; for I had the case strongly attested, and went about to collect the subscriptions myself. I was afterwards twice tapped for a dropsy, which declined into a very profitable consumption. I was then reduced to -O, no!— then I became a widow, with six helpless children. All this I bore with patience, though I made some occasional attempts at felo de se; but, as I did not find those rash actions answer, I left off killing myself very soon. Well, Sir, at last, what with bankruptcies, fires, gouts, dropsies, imprisonments, and other valuable calamities, having got together a pretty handsome sum, I determined to quit a business which had always gone rather against my conscience, and in a more liberal way still to indulge my talents for fiction and embellishments, through my favorite channel of diurnal communication; and so, Sir, you have my history.
1. ADDRESS OF BLACK HAWK TO GENERAL STREET.
You have taken me prisoner, with all my warriors. I am much grieved; for I expected, if I did not defeat you, to hold out much longer, and give you more trouble, before I surrendered. I tried hard to bring you into ambush, but your last General understood Indian fighting. I determined to rush on you, and fight you face to face. I fought hard. But your guns were well aimed. The bullets flew like birds in the air, and whizzed by our ears like the wind through the trees in winter. My warriors fell around me; it began to look dismal. I saw my evil day at hand. The sun rose dim on us in the morning, and at night it sank in a dark cloud, and looked like a ball of fire. That was the last sun that shone on Black Hawk. His heart is dead, and no longer beats quick in his bosom. He is now a prisoner to the white men; they will do with him as they wish. But he can stand torture, and is not afraid of death. He is no coward. Black Hawk is an Indian.
He has done nothing for which an Indian ought to be ashamed. He has fought for his countrymen, against white men, who came, year after year, to cheat them, and take away their lands. You know the cause of our making war. It is known to all white men. They ought to be ashamed of it. The white men despise the Indians, and drive them from their homes. They smile in the face of the poor Indian, to cheat him; they shake him by the hand, to gain his confidence, to make him drunk, and to deceive him. We told them to let us alone, and keep away from us; but they followed on and beset our paths, and they coiled themselves among us like the snake. They poisoned us by their touch. We were not safe. We lived in danger. We looked up to the Great Spirit. We went to our father. We were encouraged. His great council gave us fair words and big promises; but we got no satisfaction: things were growing worse. There were no deer in the forest. The opossum and beaver were fled. The springs were drying up, and our squaws and pappooses without victuals to keep them from starving.
We called a great council, and built a large fire. fathers arose, and spoke to us to avenge our wrongs
The spirit of our
up the war-whoop, and dug up the tomahawk; our knives were ready, and the heart of Black Hawk swelled high in his bosom, when he led his warriors to battle. He is satisfied. He will go to the world of spirits contented. He has done his duty. His father will meet him there, and commend him. Black Hawk is a true Indian, and disdains to cry like a woman. He feels for his wife, his children, and his friends. But he does not care for himself. He cares for the Nation and the Indians. They will suffer. He laments their fate. Farewell, my Nation! Black Hawk tried to save you, and avenge your wrongs. He drank the blood of some of the whites. He has been taken prisoner, and his plans are crushed. He can do no more. He is near his end. His sun is setting, and he will rise no more. well to Black Hawk!
2. TO THE SECRETARY OF WAR, 1824. Pushmataha. Born, 1764; died, 1824. FATHER - I have been here at the council-house some time; but 1 have not talked. I have not been strong enough to talk. You shall hear me talk to-day. I belong to another district. You have, no doubt, heard of me. I am Pushmataha.
Father When in my own country, I often looked towards this council-house, and wanted to come here. I am in trouble. I will tell my distresses. I feel like a small child, not half as high as its father, who comes up to look in his father's face, hanging in the bend of his arm, to tell him his troubles. So, father, I hang in the bend of your arm, and look in your face; and now hear me speak.
Father When I was in my own country, I heard there were men appointed to talk to us. I would not speak there; I chose to come here, and speak in this beloved house; for Pushmataha can boast, and say, and tell the truth, that none of his fathers, or grandfathers, or any Choctaw, ever drew bow against the United States. They have always been friendly. We have held the hands of the United States so long, that our nails are long like birds' claws; and there is no danger of their slipping out.
Father I have come to speak. My nation has always listened to the applications of the white people. They have given of their country till it is very small. I came here, when a young man, to see my Father Jefferson. He told me, if ever we got in trouble, we must run and tell him. I am come. This is a friendly talk; it is like that of a man who meets another, and says, How do you do? Another of my tribe shall talk further. He shall say what Pushmataha would say, were he stronger.
3. SUPPOSED SPEECH OF A CHIEF OF THE POCOMTUC INDIANS. · -Edward Everett.
WHITE man, there is eternal war between me and thee! I quit not the land of my fathers but with my life. In those woods where I bent my youthful bow, I will still hunt the decr. Over yonder
waters I will still glide unrestrained in my bark canoe. By those dashing waterfalls I will still lay up my winter's store of food. On these fertile meadows I will still plant my corn. Stranger, the land is mine! I understand not these paper rights. I gave not my consent when, as thou sayest, these broad regions were purchased, for a few baubles, of my fathers. They could sell what was theirs; they could sell no more. How could my fathers sell that which the Great Spirit sent me into the world to live upon? They knew not what they did. The stranger came, a timid suppliant, few and feeble, and asked to lie down on the red man's bear-skin, and warm himself at the red man's fire, and have a little piece of land to raise corn for his women and children; and now he is become strong, and mighty, and bold, and spreads out his parchment over the whole, and says, It is mine. Stranger, there is not room for us both. The Great Spirit has not made us to live together. There is poison in the white man's cup; the white man's dog barks at the red man's heels.
If I should leave the land of my fathers, whither shall I fly? Shall I go to the South, and dwell among the graves of the Pequots? Shall I wander to the West? the fierce Mohawk, the man-eater, is my foe. Shall I fly to the East? the great water is before me. No, stranger; here I have lived, and here I will die! and if here thou abidest, there is eternal war between me and thee. Thou hast taught me thy arts of destruction. For that alone I thank thee; and now take heed to thy steps; the red man is thy foe. When thou goest forth by day, my bullet shall whistle by thee; when thou liest down at night, my knife is at thy throat. The noonday sun shall not discover thy enemy, and the darkness of midnight shall not protect thy rest. Thou shalt plant in terror, and I will reap in blood; thou shalt sow the earth with corn, and I will strew it with ashes; thou shalt go forth with the sickle, and I will follow after with the scalping-knife; thou shalt build, and I will burn, till the white man or the Indian shall cease from the land. Go thy way, for this time, in safety; but remember, stranger, there is eternal war between me and thee!
4. LOGAN, A MINGO CHIEF, TO LORD DUNMORE
The charge against Colonel Cresap, in the subjoined speech, or, rather, message,- sent to Lord Dunmore, Governor of Virginia, in 1774, through John Gibson, an Indian trader, has been proved to be untrue. Gibson corrected Logan on the spot, but probably felt bound to deliver the speech as it was delivered to him.
I APPEAL to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed at me as they passed, and said, "Logan is the friend of white men." I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not sparing even my women and chil