There was one Jim Munroe of Onion County, Connecticut, a desperate idle fellow, a great hand at singin songs, a skatin, drivin about with the galls, and so on.  Well, if any body’s windows were broke, it was Jim Munroe—­and if there were any youngsters in want of a father, they were sure to be poor Jim’s.  Jist so it is with the lawyers here; they stand Godfathers for every misfortune that happens in the country.  When there is a mad dog a goin about, every dog that barks is said to be bit by the mad one, so he gets credit for all the mischief that every dog does for three months to come.  So every feller that goes yelpin home from a court house, smartin from the law, swears he is bit by a lawyer.  Now there may be something wrong in all these things, (and it cant be otherwise in natur) in Council, Banks, House of Assembly, and Lawyers:  but change them all, and its an even chance if you don’t get worse ones in their room.  It is in politics as in horses; when a man has a beast that’s near about up to the notch, he’d better not swap him; if he does, he’s een amost sure to get one not so good as his own.  My rule is, I’d rather keep a critter whose faults I do know, than change him for a beast whose faults I dont know.

No.  XV

The Dancing Master Abroad.

I wish that are black heifer in the kitchen would give over singing that are everlastin dismal tune, said the Clockmaker, it makes my head ache.  You’ve heerd a song afore now, said he, hav’nt you, till you was fairly sick of it? for I have, I vow.  The last time I was in Rhode Island, (all the galls sing there, and its generally allowed there’s no such singers any where; they beat the eye-talians a long chalk—­they sing so high some on em, they go clear out o’ hearin sometimes, like a lark) well, you heerd nothin but ‘Oh no, we never mention her,’ well, I grew so plaguy tired of it, I used to say to myself, I’d sooner see it, than heer tell of it, I vow, I wish to gracious you ‘would never mention her,’ for it makes me feel ugly to hear that same thing for ever and ever and amen that way.  Well, they’ve got a cant phrase here, ‘the schoolmaster is abroad,’ and every feller tells you that fifty times a day.  There was a chap said to me not long ago, at Truro, Mr. Slick, this Country is rapidly improving, ‘the schoolmaster is abroad now,’ and he looked as knowin as though he had found a mate’s nest.  So I should think, said I, and it would jist be about as well, I guess, if he’d stay to home and mind his business, for your folks are so consoomedly ignorant, I reckon he’s abroad een amost all his time.  I hope when he returns, he’ll be the better of his travels, and that’s more nor many of our young folks are who go ‘abroad,’ for they import more airs and nonsense, than they dispose of one while, I tell you—­some of the stock remains on hand all the rest of their lives.  There’s nothin I hate so much as cant, of all kinds, its a sure sign of a tricky disposition.