says I, Billings, you have a nice location here.  A plaguy sight too nice, said he.  Marm Lecain makes such an etarnal touss about her carpets, that I have to go along that everlasting long entry, and down both staircases, to the street door to spit; and it keeps all the gentlemen a running with their mouths full all day.  I had a real bout with a New Yorker this morning, I run down to the street door, and afore I see’d any body a coming, I let go, and I vow if I did’nt let a chap have it all over his white waistcoat.  Well, he makes a grab at me, and I shuts the door right to on his wrist, and hooks the door chain taught and leaves him there, and into Marm Lecain’s bed room like a shot, and hides behind the curtain.  Well, he roared like a bull, till black Lucretia, one of the house helps, let him go, and they looked into all the gentlemen’s rooms and found nobody—­so I got out of that are scrape.  So, what with Marm Lecain’s carpets in the house, and other folks’ waistcoats in the street, its too nice a location for me, I guess, so I shall up killoch and off to morrow to the tree-mont.

Now, says the Professor, the St. John’s folks are jist like Billings, fifty cents would have bought him a spit box, and saved him all them are journeys to the street door—­and a canal at Bay Varte would save the St. John’s folks a voyage all round Nova-Scotia.  Why, they can’t get at their own backside settlements, without a voyage most as long as one to Europe.  If we had that are neck of land in Cumberland, we’d have a ship canal there, and a town at each end of it as big as Portland.  You may talk of Solomon, said the Professor, but if Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like a lily of the field, neither was he in all his wisdom, equal in knowledge to a reel free American citizen.  Well, said I, Professor, we are a most enlightened people, that’s sartain, but somehow I don’t like to hear you run down King Solomon neither; perhaps he warnt quite so wise as Uncle Sam, but then, said I, (drawing close to the Professor, and whispering in his ear, for fear any folks in the bar room might hear me,) but then, said I, may be he was every bit and grain as honest.  Says he, Mr. Slick, there are some folks who think a good deal and say but little, and they are wise folks; and there are others agin, who blart right out whatever comes uppermost, and I guess they are pretty considerable superfine darned fools.  And with that he turned right round, and sat down to his map and never said another word, lookin’ as mad as a hatter the whole blessed time.

No.  IX

Yankee Eating and Horse Feeding.