“‘Now, now, now!  What is the use of gettin’ so excited?  Take a drink of water—­you’ll bust your b’iler, foamin’ like that,’ I says.

“‘Water!’ says William.  ‘Ha, ha, ha.’  It wasn’t no giggle, that laugh of his.  It was one of them blood-curdlers you read about.

“’All right,” says he, brisk, ‘to oblige you—­remember that.’  He turned the dipper upside down, then heaved it through the window.  ‘Sufferin’ Ike’’ says he, “I can’t even taste it—­nothin’ but cold, cold.  Went down my gullet like a buckshot down a ten-foot shaft.’  He struggled for air and continued; ‘Here am I,’ says he, ’William Pemberton, celebratin’ Christmas by dyeing my linin’ green and smellin’ like a recess in a country school.’  His ventilation give out again, whilest he worked his face into knots and flew his hands around.  ‘You come along with me,’ says he, ’and I’ll show you a Christmas celebration.’

“I grabbed him.  ‘William,’ I says, ’your eye is desperate.  You explain to me before you scuff a foot.’

“‘Leggo me,’ he says; ’I tell you, leggo me, Zeke Scraggs.  I’m goin’ to have my revenge.  I’m goin’ to take ten cases of giant powder and blow the mill of Honorable John Lawson Davis, Member of Congress, Champion Double-Jointed, Ground-and-Lofty, Collar-and-Elbow, Skin and Liar, so high in the air that folks’ll think there’s a new comet, predictin’ war and trouble.’

“‘William,’ I says ‘you ain’t goin’ to do no such thing—­that’s wicked, that is.’  I tried to speak stern, but this here Christmas hadn’t amounted to much so far, and I never had seen a stamp mill blew up, so I couldn’t help wonderin’ how it would look.

“‘See here!’ says he, ’I’ll admit many a time you’ve licked me in a friendly way, Ezekiel, and I’m obliged to you; but, now, be you, or ben’t you, my guest?’

“‘I be,’ says I.

“‘Then don’t let’s hear no more out of you,’ he says, ’but come along.’

“‘The powder’ll be friz,’ I hints, still tryin’ to switch him off.

“‘Not much,’ he says.  ’She’s down a cellar twenty foot deep—­come on.’

“‘Just as you say, William,’ I remarks—­the only thing to do.

“So we toted ten cases of giant to the bottom of the mill, fixed the cap and fuse careful, touched her off, and walked away from there.

“Whilest I wouldn’t have you think for a minute, dear friends and brothers, that I uphold any conduct like that, for my part I’m willin’ to admit there’s things less exhileratin’ than standin’ on a small rise, of a clear, fine, moonlight winter night, waitin’ to see a fifty-stamp mill go off,

“And she went.  Let me repeat it:  she went.  We first ketched a smack on the soles of our feet, and then that mill flew to a fiery finish.  Jeehoopidderammity!  It was simply gorgeous.

“We didn’t have time to take it all in, howsomever, for after the first blast a big, black thing sailed over our heads with the fearfullest screech that ever scart a man to death.