“Well! just as you say about it,” is the cool rejoinder.  “But you ’ll have to settle the case afore lawyer Sprouts, you will!” Stupidly inclined to dog his opinions, the sensitive gentleman, claiming to be much better versed in the mode of selling human things, becomes fearfully enraged.  M’Fadden contends purely upon contingencies which may arise in the mental and physical complications of property in man; and this the gentleman man-seller cannot bear the reiteration of.

“Romescos thinks it is at best but a perplexin snarl, requiring gentlemen to keep very cool.  To him they are both honourable men, who should not quarrel over the very small item of one preacher.  “This warrantin’ niggers’ heads never amounts to anything,—­it’s just like warrantin’ their heels; and when one gets bad, isn’t t’other sure to be movin?  Them’s my sentiments, gratis!” Stepping a few feet behind M’Fadden, Romescos rubs his hands in great anxiety, makes curious signs to the clerks at the desk, and charges his mouth with a fresh cut of tobacco.

“Nobody bespoke your opinion,” says the disconsolate M’Fadden, turning quickly, in consequence of a sign he detected one of the clerks making, and catching Romescos bestowing a grimace of no very complimentary character, “Your presence and your opinion are, in my estimation, things that may easily be dispensed with.”

“I say!” interrupts Romescos, his right hand in a threatening attitude, “not quite so fast"-he drawls his words-"a gentleman don’t stand an insult o’ that sort.  Just draw them ar’ words back, like a yard of tape, or this individual ’ll do a small amount of bruising on that ar’ profile, (he draws his hand backward and forward across M’Fadden’s face).  ’Twon’t do to go to church on Sundays with a broken phiz?” His face reddens with anger, as he works his head into a daring attitude, grates his teeth, again draws his fist across M’Fadden’s face; and at length rubs his nasal organ.

“I understand you too well!” replies M’Fadden, with a curt twist of his head.  “A man of your cloth can’t insult a gentleman like me; you’re lawless!” He moves towards the door, stepping sideways, watching Romescos over his left shoulder.

“I say!-Romescos takes his man by the arm-Come back here, and make a gentleman’s apology!” He lets go M’Fadden’s arm and seizes him by the collar violently, his face in a blaze of excitement.

“Nigger killer!” ejaculates M’Fadden, “let go there!” He gives his angry antagonist a determined look, as he, for a moment, looses his hold.  He pauses, as if contemplating his next move.

The very amiable and gentlemanly man-vender thinks it time he interposed for the purpose of reconciling matters.  “Gentlemen! gentlemen! respect me, if you do not respect yourselves.  My office is no place for such disgraceful broils as these; you must go elsewhere.”  The modest gentleman, whose very distinguished family connexions have done much to promote his interests, would have it particularly