sarcer you broke at Pugnose’s inn, into ten hundred thousand million flinders.  Oh! no, if I did’nt fix his flint for him in fair play it’s a pity.  I’ll tell you how it was.  I was up to Truro, at Ezra Whitter’s Inn.  There was an arbitration there atween Deacon Text and Deacon Faithful.  Well, there was a nation sight of folks there, for they said it was a biter bit, and they came to witness the sport, and to see which critter would get the earmark.

Well, I’d been doin a little business there among the folks, and had jist sot off for the river, mounted on “Old Clay,” arter takin a glass of Ezra’s most particular handsum Jamaiky, and was trottin off pretty slick, when who should I run agin but Tim Bradley.  He is a dreadful ugly cross grained critter, as you een amost ever seed, when he is about half shaved.  Well, I stopped short, and says, I, Mr. Bradley, I hope you beant hurt; I’m proper sorry I run agin you, you cant feel uglier than I do about it, I do assure you.  He called me a Yankee pedlar, a cheatin vagabond, a wooden nutmeg, and threw a good deal of assorted hardware of that kind at me; and the crowd of folks cried out, down with the Yankee, let him have it Tim, teach him better manners; and they carried on pretty high, I tell you.  Well, I got my dander up too, I felt all up on eend like; and, thinks I to myself, my lad if I get a clever chance, I’ll give you such a quiltin as you never had since you were raised from a seedlin, I vow.  So, says I, Mr Bradley, I guess you had better let me be, you know I cant fight no more than a cow—­I never was brought up to wranglin, and I don’t like it.  Haul off the cowardly rascal, they all bawled out, haul him off, and lay it into him.  So he lays right hold of me by the collar, and gives me a pull, and I lets on as if I’d lost my balance and falls right down.  Then I jumps up on eend, and says I “go ahead Clay,” and the old horse he sets off a head, so I knew I had him when I wanted him.  Then, says I, I hope you are satisfied now, Mr Bradley, with that are ungenteel fall you ginn me.  Well, he makes a blow at me, and I dodged it, now, says I, you’ll be sorry for this, I tell you, I wont be treated this way for nothin, I’ll go right off and swear my life agin you, I’m most afeerd you’ll murder me.  Well, he strikes at me agin, (thinkin he had a genuine soft horn to deal with,) and hits me in the shoulder.  Now, says I, I wont stand here to be lathered like a dog all day long this fashion, it tante pretty at all, I guess I’ll give you a chase for it.  Off I sets arter my horse like mad, and he arter me, (I did that to get clear of the crowd, so that I might have fair play at him) Well, I soon found I had the heels of him, and could play him as I liked.  Then I slackened up a little, and when he came close up to me, so as nearly to lay his hand upon me, I squatted right whap down, all short, and he pitched over me near about a rod or so, I guess, on his head, and plowed up the ground