The American Union Speaker Part 74

Love. No; I'll have none.

James. Indeed, sir, you should.

Love. Well, then,--kill the old hen, for she has done laying.

James. Mercy! sir, how the folks will talk of it; indeed, people say enough of you already.

Love. Eh! why, what do the people say, pray?

James. Oh, sir, if I could be a.s.sured you would not be angry.

Love. Not at all; for I'm always glad to hear what the world says of me.

James. Why, sir, since you will have it, then, they make a jest of you everywhere; nay, of your servants, on your account.

One says, you pick a quarrel with them quarterly, in order to find an excuse to pay them no wages.

Love. Poh! poh!

James. Another says, you were taken one night stealing your own oats from your own horses.

Love. That must be a lie; for I never allow them any.

James. In a word, you are the bye-word everywhere; and you are never mentioned, but by the names of covetous, stingy, sc.r.a.ping, old-- Love. Get along, you impudent villain!

James. Nay, sir, you said you would n't be angry.

Love. Get out, you dog! you-- Fielding.

CCCLXXVIII.

THE LETTER.

SQUIRE EGAN AND HIS NEW IRISH SERVANT, ANDY.

Squire. Well, Andy, you went to the postoffice, as I ordered you?

Andy. Yis, sir.

Squire. Well, what did you find?

Andy. A most impertinent fellow indade, sir.

Squire. How so?

Andy Says I, as decent like as a gentleman, "I want a letther, sir, if you plase." "Who do you want it for?" said the posth-masther, as ye call him. "I want a letter, sir, if you plase," said I "And whom do you want it for?" said he again. "And what 's that to you?" said I.

Squire. You blockhead, what did he say to that?

Andy. He laughed at me, sir, and said he could not tell what leather to give me, unless I told him the direction.

Squire. Well, you told him then, did you?

Andy. "The directions I got," said I "was to get a leather here,--that 's the directions." "Who gave you the directions?"

says he. "The masther" said I. "And who 's your masther?" said he. "What consarn is that of yours?" said I.

Squire. Did he break your head, then?

Andy. No sir. "Why you stupid rascal," said he, "if you don't tell me his name, how can I give you his leather?" "You could give it, if you liked," said I; "only you are fond of axing impudent questions, because you think I'm simple." "Get out o' this!" said he. "Your masther must be as great a goose as yourself, to send such a missenger."

Squire. Well, how did you save my honor, Andy?

Andy. "Bad luck to your impudence!" said I. "Is it Squire Egan you dare say goose to?" "O Squire Egan's your masther?"

said he. "Yes," says I; "Have you anything to say agin it?"

Squire. You got the letter, then, did you?

Andy. "Here 's a leather for the squire," says he. "You are to pay me eleven pence posthage." "What 'ud I pay 'levenpence for?" said I "For posthage," said he. "Did n't I see you give that gentlewoman a leather for four-pence, this blessed minit?" said I; "and a bigger letther than this? Do you think I 'm a fool?" says I? "Here 's a four-pence for you, and give me the letther."

Squire. I wonder he did n't break your skull, and let some light into it.

Andy. "Go along, you stupid thafe!" says he, because I would n't let him chate your honor.

Square. Well, well; give me the letter.

Andy. I have n't it, sir. He would n't give it to me, sir.

Squire. Who would n't give it to you?

Andy. That old chate beyant in the town.

Square. Did n't you pay what he asked?

Andy. Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated, when he was selling them before my face for four-pence a-piece?

Squire. Go back, you scoundrel, or I'll horsewhip you.

Andy. He'll murther me, if I say another word to him about the leather; he swore he would.

Squire. I'll do it, if he don't, if you are not back in less than an hour. [Exit]

Andy. O, that the like of me should be murthered for defending the charrackter of my masther! It's not I'll go to dale with that b.l.o.o.d.y chate again. I'll off to Dublin, and let the leather rot on his dirty hands, bad luck to him!

Anonymous.

CCCLXXIX.

THE FRENCHMAN'S LESSON.

Frenchman. Ha! my friend! I have met one very strange name in my lesson. Vat you call H-o-u-g-h,--eh?

Tutor. "Huff."

Fr. Tres bien, "huff;" and snuff you spell s-n-o-u-p-h?

Tut. Oh! no, no! "Snuff" is spelled s-n-u-f-f. In fact, words in o-u-g-h are a little irregular.

Fr. Ah, very good!--'t is beautiful language! H-o-u-g-h is "huff." I will remember; and of course, c-o-u-g-h is "cuff."

I have a bad "cuff,"--eh?

Tut. No, that is wrong; we say "kauff,"--not "cuff"

Fr. "Kauff," eh? "Huff," and "kauff;" and, pardonnez-moi, how you call d-o-u-g-h--"duff,"--eh? is it "duff?"

Tut. No, not "duff."

Fr. Not "duff!" Ah oui; I understand, it is "dauff,"

--eh?

Tut. No; d-o-u-g-h spells "doe."

Fr. "Doe!" It 's ver' fine! Wonderful language! It is "doe;" and t-o-u-g-h is "toe," certainement. My beefsteak is very "toe."

Tut. Oh! no, no! You should say "tuff."

Fr. "Tuff!" And the thing the farmer uses, how you call him, p-l-o-u-g-h,--"pluff," is it? Ha! you smile. I see that I am wrong; it must be "plaff." No? then it is "ploe,"

like "doe?" It is one beautiful language! ver' fine! "ploe!"

Tut. You are still wrong, my friend; it is "plow."

Fr. "Plow!" Wonderful language! I shall understand ver' soon. "Plow" "doe" "kauff;" and one more r-o-u-g-h --what you call General Taylor,--"Rauff and Ready?"

No? then "Row and Ready?"

Tut. No; r-o-u-g-h spells "ruff."

Fr. "Ruff," ha? Let me not forget. R-o-u-g-h is "ruff,"

and b-o-u-g-h is "buff,"--ha?

Tut. No; "bow."

Fr. Ah! 't is ver' simple! Wonderful language! But I have had vat you call e-n-o-u-g-h,--ha? Vat you call him?--Ha! ha! ha!

Anonymous.

CCCLx.x.x.

HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS.

Mr. H.--Steward.

Mr. H. Ha! Steward, How are you, my old boy? How do things go on at home?

Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the magpie's dead.

Mr. H. Poor mag! so he's gone. How came he to die?

Stew. Over-ate himself sir.

Mr. H. Did he, faith? a greedy dog; why, what did he get he liked so well?

Stew. Horse-flesh, sir; he died of eating horse-flesh.

Mr. H. How came he to get so much horse-flesh?

Stew. All your father's horses, sir.