“‘A Cuba flounder!’ exclaims the General, who continued to work diligently, his face flushed as crimson, but I as yet he had failed to secure the first slice.  It was evident he had made a stroke too bold, and would now be compelled to draw back a little—­perhaps to take a few more lessons in the diplomacy of carving.  And while the General was trying to get the knife into the neck part, the critter opened its mouth, and gasping looked as if it thought some of swallowing a whole cabinet of philibusteroes.

“‘The brute ain’t cooked yet—­if it don’t open its mouth!’ proclaimed the General, the hair almost standing on his head, as he reclined back in fright.

“‘The critter’s going to be generous, I do believe!’ chimed in Grandpapa, whose white cap, during the moment of excitement, had fallen over into Mrs. Dobbin’s plate; from whence that good-natured lady, in the moment of anxiety, removed it to her lap, and ere she had been served found it near her pretty lips, under the mistaken impression of its being a napkin.  Grandpapa, discovering his loss, politely developed the dear lady’s mistake.

“’Tell you what it is General; you’ll have to be mighty careful, or that Cuba flounder will swallow all the shiners in Uncle Sam’s brass box without yielding anything in exchange,’ I insinuated.

“‘Not a bit on’t!’ says Uncle Jeff, going off into a state of excitement:  ‘Just lend me the carver; I’ll put him through;’ and seizing the knife from Mr. Pierce’s hand, and the steel from Grandpapa’s, he was just on the point of making a thrust into the fish, when his mouth again expanded, his fins fluttered, and out came a long roll of paper.  ‘What on earth is that?’ inquired the astonished General, as Jeff unconsciously let the knife fall in fright, and Grandpapa gave an anxious look toward the door, as if to measure the distance between it and his chair,—­while John Littlejohn applying his glass to his eyes, squinted seriously at it.  ’He’s not just done enough for you yet, gentlemen; I think you had better let him stand awhile,’ remarks our Cousin John, rather coolly.  ’You cannot republicanize him, unless you change his head and heart; I can tell you that, my good fellows.’

“Uncle Jeff, at Grandpapa’s bidding, took up the roll of paper, the text of which Mr. Pierce requested him to read.  ’A protest, your Excellency!’ said Jeff, the paper vibrating in his nervous hand.  ’It says, this is to notify Brother Jonathan, that the extreme largeness of his appetite, insatiate in its demands for my body, shall never be gratified therewith.  You are far-seeing, have grown powerful, and are rather a good sort of fellow, Jonathan; but I’m not quite ready to say I should prefer either to belong to your household or provide your table with dainty dishes.  The fact is, Jonathan, and you know it, when disposed to think on the square, we are not prepared to denounce our league loyalty and come over to you; common sense might have convinced you of this fact.  The world protests against your forcing propensities in this little affair between us.  For more than two centuries have I remained at peace; let me so continue.  I admit that kings, queens, and courtiers, have feasted on my fatlings, and even discomfited me, and caused much discontent among my people; but even they would rather bear the ills that be than fall victims to your black pig’s will.’