When Nabb sees this, he begins to creep like all over, and feel kinder ugly, and rather sick of his job; but when he seed him jump into bed, and heerd him snore out a noise like a man driving pigs to market, he plucked up courage, and thought he might do it easy arter all if he was to open the door softly, and make one spring on him afore he could wake.  So round he goes, lifts up the latch of his door as soft as soap, and makes a jump right atop of him, as he lay on the bed.  I guess I got you this time, said Nabb:  I guess so too, said Bill, but I wish you would’nt lay so plaguy heavy on me—­jist turn over, that’s a good fellow, will you?  With that Bill lays his arm on him to raise him up, for he said he was squeezed as flat as a pancake, and afore Nabb knew where he was, Bill rolled him right over and was atop of him.  Then he seized him by the throat, and twisted his pipe till his eyes were, as big as saucers, and his tongue grew six inches longer, while he kept making faces for all the world like the pirate that was hanged on Monument Hill at Boston.  It was pretty near over with him, when Nabb thought of his spurs; so he just curled up both heels, and drove the spurs right into him; he let him have it jist below his cruper; as Bill was naked he had a fair chance, and he ragged him like the leaf of a book cut open with your finger.  At last, Bill could stand it no longer; he let go his hold and roared like a bull, and clapping both hands ahind him, he out of the door like a shot.  If it had’nt been for them are spurs, I guess Bill would have saved the hangman a job of Nabb that time.

The Clockmaker was an observing man, and communicative.  Nothing escaped his notice; he knew every body’s genealogy, history and means, and like a driver of an English Stage Coach, was not unwilling to impart what he knew.  Do you see that snug looking house there, said he, with a short sarce garden afore it, that belongs to Elder Thomson.  The Elder is pretty close fisted, and holds special fast to all he gets.  He is a just man and very pious, but I have observed when a man becomes near about too good, he is apt, sometimes, to slip a head into avarice, unless he looks sharp arter his girths.  A friend of mine in Connecticut, an old sea Captain, who was once let in for it pretty deep, by a man with a broader brim than common, said to me, friend Sam, says he, “I don’t like those folks who are too d—­n good.”  There is, I expect, some truth in it, tho’ he need’nt have swore at all, but he was an awful hand to swear.  Howsomever that may be, there is a story about the Elder, that’s not so coarse neither.  It appears, an old Minister came there once, to hold a meetin at his house—­well, after meetin was over, the Elder took the minister all over his farm, which is pretty tidy, I tell you; and he shewed him a great Ox he had, and a swingeing big Pig, that weighed some six or seven hundred weight, that he was plaguy proud of, but he never offered the old minister any thing to eat or drink.  The