The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) by Thomas Chandler Haliburton (english novels for beginners .txt) 📕

Run,  And Whoever Wins,  Shall Go The Treat.'

"The Elder Smiled As Sweet As Sugar Candy,  But Backed

Out; He Was Too Old,  He Said,  Now To Run.

"'Will You Swap Hosses,  Old Broad Cloth Then?' Said The

Other,  'Because If You Will,  Here's At You.'

"Steve Took A Squint At Pony,  To See Whether That Cat

Would Jump Or No,  But The Cropt Ears,  The Stump Of A

Tail,  The Rakish Look Of The Horse,  Didn't Jist Altogether

Convene To The Taste Or The Sanctified Habits Of The

Preacher. The Word No,  Hung On His Lips,  Like A Wormy

Apple,  Jist Ready To Drop The Fust Shake; But Before It

Let Go,  The Great Strength,  The Spryness,  And The Oncommon

Obedience Of Pony To The Bit,  Seemed To Kinder Balance

The Objections; While The Sartan And Ontimely Eend That

Hung Over His Own Mare,  During The Comin' Winter,  Death

By Starvation,  Turned The Scale.

"'Well,' Said He,  Slowly,  'If We Like Each Other's Beasts,

Friend,  And Can Agree As To The Boot,  I Don't Know As I

Wouldn't Trade; For I Don't Care To Raise Colts,  Havin'

Plenty Of Hoss Stock On Hand,  And Perhaps You Do.'

"'How Old Is Your Hoss?' Said The Frenchman.

"'I Didn't Raise It,' Sais Steve,  'Ned Wheelock,  I Believe,

Brought Her To Our Parts.'

"'How Old Do You Take Her To Be?'

"'Poor Critter,  She'd Tell You Herself,  If She Could,'

Said He,  'For She Knows Best,  But She Can't Speak; And

I Didn't See Her,  When She Was Foalded.'

"'How Old Do You Think?'

"'Age,' Sais Steve,  'Depens On Use,  Not On Years. A Hoss

At Five,  If Ill Used,  Is Old; A Hoss At Eight,  If Well

Used Is Young.'

"'Sacry Footry!' Sais Goodish,  'Why Don't You Speak Out

Like A Man? Lie Or No Lie,  How Old Is She?'

"'Well,  I Don't Like To Say,' Sais Steve,  'I Know She Is

Eight For Sartain,  And It May Be She's Nine. If I Was To

Say Eight,  And It Turned Out Nine,  You Might Be Thinkin'

Hard Of Me. I Didn't Raise It. You Can See What Condition

She Is In; Old Hosses Ain't Commonly So Fat As That,  At

Least I Never,  See One That Was.'

"A Long Banter Then Growed Out Of The 'Boot Money.' The

Elder,  Asked 7 Pounds 10s. Goodish Swore He Wouldn't Give

That For Him And His Hoss Together; That If They Were

Both Put Up To Auction That Blessed Minute,  They Wouldn't

Bring It. The Elder Hung On To It,  As Long As There Was

Any Chance Of The Boot,  And Then Fort The Ground Like A

Man,  Only Givin' An Inch Or So At A Time,  Till He Drawed

Up And Made A Dead Stand,  On One Pound.

"Goodish Seemed Willing To Come To Tarms Too; But Like

A Prudent Man,  Resolved To Take A Look At The Old Mare's

Mouth,  And Make Some Kind Of A Guess At Her Age; But The

Critter Knowed How To Keep Her Own Secrets,  And It Was

Ever So Long,  Afore He Forced Her Jaws Open,  And When He

Did,  He Came Plaguy Near Losin' Of A Finger,  For His

Curiosity; And As He Hopped And Danced About With Pain,

He Let Fly Such A String Of Oaths,  And Sacry-Cussed The

Elder And His Mare,  In Such An All-Fired Passion,  That

Steve Put Both His Hands Up To His Ears,  And Said,  'Oh,

My Dear Friend,  Don't Swear,  Don't Swear; It's Very

Wicked. I'll Take Your Pony,  I'll Ask No Boot,  If You

Will Only Promise Not To Swear. You Shall Have The Mare

As She Stands. I'll Give Up And Swap Even; And There

Shall Be No After Claps,  Nor Ruin Bargains,  Nor Recantin',

Nor Nother,  Only Don't Swear.'

"Well,  The Trade Was Made,  The Saddles And Bridles Was

Shifted,  And Both Parties Mounted Their New Hosses. 'Mr.

Slick,' Sais Steve,' Who Was Afraid He Would Lose The

Pony,  If He Staid Any Longer,  'Mr. Slick,' Sais He,  'The

Least Said,  Is The Soonest Mended,  Let's Be A Movin',

This Scene Of Noise And Riot Is Shockin' To A Religious

Man,  Ain't It?' And He Let Go A Groan,  As Long As The

Embargo A'most.

"Well,  We Had No Sooner Turned To Go,  Than The French

People Sot Up A Cheer That Made All Ring Again; And They

Sung Out,  "La Fossy Your," "La Fossy Your," And Shouted

It Agin And Agin Ever So Loud.

"'What's That?' Sais Steve.

"Well,  I Didn't Know,  For I Never Heerd The Word Afore;

But It Don't Do To Say You Don't Know,  It Lowers You In

The Eyes Of Other Folks. If You Don't Know What Another

Man Knows He Is Shocked At Your Ignorance. But If He

Don't Know What You Do,  He Can Find An Excuse In A Minute.

Never Say You Don't Know.

"'So,' Sais I,  'They Jabber So Everlastin' Fast,  It Ain't

No Easy Matter To Say What They Mean; But It Sounds Like

"Good Bye," You'd Better Turn Round And Make 'Em A Bow,

For They Are Very Polite People,  Is The French.'

"So Steve Turns And Takes Off His Hat,  And Makes Them A

Low Bow,  And They Larfs Wus Than Ever,  And Calls Out

Again,  "La Fossy Your," "La Fossy Your." He Was Kinder

Ryled,  Was The Elder. His Honey Had Begun To Farment,

And Smell Vinegery. 'May Be,  Next Christmas,' Sais He,

'You Won't Larf So Loud,  When You Find The Mare Is Dead.

Goodish And The Old Mare Are Jist Alike,  They Are All

Tongue Them Critters. I Rather Think It's Me,' Sais He,

'Has The Right To Larf,  For I've Got The Best Of This

Bargain,  And No Mistake. This Is As Smart A Little Hoss

As Ever I See. I Know Where I Can Put Him Off To Great

Advantage. I Shall Make A Good Day's Work Of This. It Is

About As Good A Hoss Trade As I Ever Made. The French

Don't Know Nothin' About Hosses; They Are A Simple People,

Their Priests Keep 'Em In Ignorance On Purpose,  And They

Don't Know Nothin'.'

"He Cracked And Bragged Considerable,  And As We Progressed

We Came To Montagon Bridge. The Moment Pony Sot Foot On

It,  He Stopped Short,  Pricked Up The Latter Eends Of His

Ears,  Snorted,  Squeeled And Refused To Budge An Inch.

The Elder Got Mad. He First Coaxed And Patted,  And Soft

Sawdered Him,  And Then Whipt And Spurred,  And Thrashed

Him Like Any Thing. Pony Got Mad Too,  For Hosses Has

Tempers As Well As Elders; So He Turned To,  And Kicked

Right Straight Up On Eend,  Like Old Scratch,  And Kept On

Without Stoppin' Till He Sent The Elder Right Slap Over

His Head Slantendicularly,  On The Broad Of His Back Into

The River,  And He Floated Down Thro' The Bridge And

Scrambled Out At T'other Side.

"Creation! How He Looked. He Was So Mad,  He Was Ready To

Bile Over; And As It Was He Smoked In The Sun,  Like A

Tea-Kettle. His Clothes Stuck Close Down To Him,  As A

Cat's Fur Does To Her Skin,  When She's Out In The Rain,

And Every Step He Took His Boots Went Squish,  Squash,

Like An Old Woman Churnin' Butter; And His Wet Trowsers

Chafed With A Noise Like A Wet Flappin' Sail. He Was A

Shew,  And When He Got Up To His Hoss,  And Held On To His

Mane,  And First Lifted Up One Leg And Then The Other To

Let The Water Run Out Of His Boots. I Couldn't Hold In

No Longer,  But Laid Back And Larfed Till I Thought On My

Soul I'd Fall Off Into The River Too.

"'Elder,' Says I,  'I Thought When A Man Jined Your Sect,

'He Could Never "_Fall Off Agin_," But I See You Ain't

No Safer Than Other Folks Arter All.'

"'Come,' Says He,  'Let Me Be,  That's A Good Soul,  It's

Bad Enough,  Without Being Larfed At,  That's A Fact. I

Can't Account For This Caper,  No How.'

"'It's Very Strange Too,  Ain't It! What On Airth Got Into

The Hoss To Make Him Act So Ugly. Can You Tell,  Mr.

Slick?'

"'Why,' Sais I,  'He Don't Know English Yet,  That's All.

He Waited For Them Beautiful French Oaths That Goodish

Used. Stop The Fust Frenchman You Meet And Give Him A

Shillin' To Teach You To Swear,  And He'll Go Like A Lamb.'

"I See'd What Was The Matter Of The Hoss By His Action

As Soon As We Started; But I Warn't Agoin' For To Let On

To Him About It. I Wanted To See The Sport. Well,  He

Took His Hoss By The Bridle And Led Him Over The Bridge,

And He Follered Kindly,  Then He Mounted,  And No Hoss

Could Go Better. Arter A Little,  We Came To Another Bridge

Agin,  And The Same Play Was Acted Anew,  Same Coaxin',

Same Threatenin',  And Same Thrashin'; At Last Pony Put

Down His Head,  And Began To Shake His Tail,  A Gettin'

Ready For Another Bout Of Kickin'; When Steve Got Off

And Led Him,  And Did The Same To Every Bridge We Come

To.

"'It's No Use,' Sais I,  'You Must Larn Them Oaths,  He's

Used To 'Em And Misses Them Shocking. A Sailor,  A Hoss,

And A Nigger Ain't No Good Without You Swear At 'Em; It

Comes Kinder Nateral To Them,  And They Look For It,  Fact

I Assure You. Whips Wear Out,  And So Do Spurs,  But A Good

Sneezer Of A Cuss Hain't No Wear Out To It; It's Always

The Same.'

"'I'll Larn Him Sunthin',  Sais He,  'When I Get Him To

Home,  And Out O' Sight That Will Do Him Good,  And That

He Won't Forget For One While,