Did you ever heer tell of Abernethy, a British doctor? said the Clockmaker.  Frequently, said I, he was an eminent man, and had a most extensive practice.  Well, I reckon he was a vulgar critter that, he replied, he treated the honble.  Aiden Gobble, secretary to our legation at London, dreadful bad once; and I guess if it had been me he had used that way, I’d a fixed his flint for him, so that he’d think twice afore he’d fire such another shot as that are again.  I’d a made him make tracks, I guess, as quick as a dog does a hog from a potatoe field.  He’d a found his way out of the hole in the fence a plaguy sight quicker than he came in, I reckon.  Hits manner, said I, was certainly rather unceremonious at times, but he was so honest, and so straightforward, that no person was, I believe, ever seriously offended at him.  It was his way.  Then his way was so plague rough, continued the Clockmaker, that he’d been the better, if it had been hammered and mauled down smoother.  I’d a levelled him as flat as a flounder.  Pray what was his offence? said I. Bad enough you may depend.  The honble.  Alden Gobble was dyspeptic, and he suffered great on easiness arter eatin, so he gees to Abemethy for advice.  What’s the matter with you, said the Doctor? jist that way, without even passing the time o’ day with him—­What’s the matter with you? said he.  Why, says Alden, I presume I have the Dyspepsy.  Ah! said he, I see; a Yankee swallowed more dollars and cents than he can digest I am an American citizen, says Alden, with great dignity, I am Secretary to our Legation at the Court of St. James.  The devil you are, said Abernethy, then you’ll soon get rid of your dyspepsy.  I don’t see that are inference, said Alden, it don’t follow from what you predicate at all—­it ant a natural consequence, I guess, that a man should cease to be ill, because he is called by the voice of a free and enlightened people to fill an important office. (The truth is, you could no more trap Alden than you could an Indian.  He could see other folks’ trail, and made none himself; he was a real diplomatist, and I believe our diplomatists are allowed to be the best in the world.) But I tell you it does follow, said the Doctor; for in the company you’ll have to keep, you’ll have to eat like a Christian.  It was an everlasting pity Alden contradicted him, for he broke out like one ravin distracted mad.  I’ll be d—­d, said he, if ever I saw a Yankee that did’nt bolt his food whole like a Boa Constrictor.  How the devil can you expect to digest food, that you neither take the trouble to dissect, nor time to masticate?  It’s no wonder you lose your teeth, for you never use them; nor your digestion, for you overload it; nor your saliva, for you expend it on the carpets, instead of your food.  Its disgusting, its beastly.  You Yankees load your stomachs as a Devonshire man does his cart, as full as it can hold, and as fast as he can pitch it with a dung fork, and drive off;