By the time we had reached the house, Cutler joined us, and we dined off of the doctor's salmon, which was prepared in a way that I had never seen before; and as it was a touch above common, and smacked of the wigwam, I must get the receipt. The only way for a man who travels and wants to get something better than amusement out of it, is to notch down anything new, for every place has something to teach you in that line. "The silent pig is the best feeder," but it remains a pig still, and hastens its death by growing too fat. Now the talking traveller feeds his mind as well as his body, and soon finds the less he pampers his appetite the clearer his head is and the better his spirits. The great thing is to live and learn, and learn to live.

Now I hate an epicure above all created things--worse than lawyers, doctors, politicians, and selfish fellows of all kinds. In a giniral way he is a miserable critter, for nothin' is good enough for him or done right, and his appetite gives itself as many airs, and requires as much waitin' on, as a crotchetty, fanciful, peevish old lady of fashion. If a man's sensibility is all in his palate he can't in course have much in his heart. Makin' oneself miserable, fastin' in sackcloth and ashes, ain't a bit more foolish than makin' oneself wretched in the midst of plenty, because the sea, the air, and the earth won't give him the dainties he wants, and Providence won't send the cook to dress them. To spend one's life in eating, drinking, and sleeping, or like a bullock, in ruminating on food, reduces a man to the level of an ox or an ass. The stomach is the kitchen, and a very small one too, in a general way, and broiling, simmering, stewing, baking, and steaming, is a goin' on there night and day. The atmosphere is none of the pleasantest neither, and if a man chooses to withdraw into himself and live there, why I don't see what earthly good he is to society, unless he wants to wind up life by writin' a cookery-book. I hate them--that's just the tarm, and I like tarms that express what I mean.

I shall never forget when I was up to Michelimackinic. A thunderin' long word, ain't it? We call it Mackinic now for shortness. But perhaps you wouldn't understand it spelt that way, no more than I did when I was to England that Brighton means Brighthelmeston, or Sissiter, Cirencester, for the English take such liberties with words, they can't afford to let others do the same; so I give it to you both ways. Well, when I was there last, I dined with a village doctor, the greatest epicure I think I ever see in all my born days. He thought and talked of nothing else from morning till night but eatin'.

"Oh, Mr Slick," said he, rubbin' his hands, "this is the tallest country in the world to live in. What a variety of food there is here,--fish, flesh, and fowl,--wild, tame, and mongeral,--fruits, vegetables, and spongy plants!"

"What's that?" sais I. I always do that when a fellow uses strange words. "We call a man who drops in accidently on purpose to dinner a sponging fellow, which means if you give him the liquid he will soak it up dry."

"Spongy plants," sais he, "means mushrooms and the like."

"Ah!" said I, "mushrooms are nateral to a new soil like this. Upstarts we call them; they arise at night, and by next mornin' their house is up and its white roof on."

"Very good," said he, but not lookin' pleased at havin' his oratory cut short that way. "Oh, Mr Slick!" said he, "there is a poor man here who richly deserves a pension both from your government and mine. He has done more to advance the culinary art than either Ude or Soyer."

"Who on earth now were they?" said I. I knew well enough who they were, for when I was to England they used to brag greatly of Soyer at the Reform Club. For fear folks would call their association house after their politics, "the cheap and dirty" they built a very splash affair, and to set an example to the state in their own establishment of economy and reform in the public departments, hired Soyer, the best cook of the age, at a salary that would have pensioned half-a-dozen of the poor worn-out clerks in Downing Street. Vulgarity is always showy. It is a pretty word, "Reformers." The common herd of them I don't mind much, for rogues and fools always find employment for each other. But when I hear of a great reformer like some of the big bugs to England, that have been grinning through horse-collars of late years, like harlequins at fairs, for the amusement and instruction of the public, I must say I do expect to see a super-superior hypocrite.

Yes, I know who those great artists Soyer and Ude were, but I thought I'd draw him out. So I just asked who on earth they were, and he explained at great length, and mentioned the wonderful discoveries they had made in their divine art.

"Well," sais I, "why on earth don't your friend the Mackinic cook go to London or Paris, where he won't want a pension, or anything else, if he excels them great men?"

"Bless you, Sir," he replied, "he is merely a voyageur."

"Oh dear," sais I, "I dare say then he can fry ham and eggs and serve 'em up in ile, boil salt beef and pork, and twice lay cod-fish, and perhaps boil potatoes nice and watery like cattle turnips. What discoveries could such a rough-and-tumble fellow as that make?"

"Well," said the doctor, "I didn't want to put myself forward, for it ain't pleasant to speak of oneself."

"Well, I don't know that," sais I, "I ain't above it, I assure you. If you have a horse to sell, put a thunderin' long price on him, and folks will think he must be the devil and all, and if you want people to vally you right, appraise yourself at a high figure. Braggin' saves advertising'. I always do it; for as the Nova Scotia magistrate said, who sued his debtor before himself, 'What's the use of being a justice, if you can't do yourself justice.' But what was you sayin' about the voyageur?"

"Why, Sir," said he, "I made the discovery through his instrumentality. He enabled me to do it by suffering the experiments to be made on him. His name was Alexis St Martin; he was a Canadian, and about eighteen years of age, of good constitution, robust, and healthy. He had been engaged in the service of the American Fur Company as a voyageur, and was accidentally wounded by the discharge of a musket, on the 9th of June, 1822. The charge, consisting of powder and duck-shot, was received in his left side; he being at a distance of not more than one yard from the muzzle of the gun. The contents entered posteriorly, and in an oblique direction, forward and inward, literally blowing off integuments and muscles, of the size of a man's hand, fracturing and carrying away the anterior half of the sixth rib, fracturing the fifth, lacerating the lower portion of the left lobe of the lungs, the diaphragm, and perforating the stomach."

"Good gracious!" sais I, "how plain that is expressed! It is as clear as mud, that! I do like doctors, for their talking and writing is intelligible to the meanest capacity."

He looked pleased, and went ahead agin.

"After trying all the means in my power for eight or ten months to close the orifice, by exciting adhesive inflammation in the lips of the wound, without the least appearance of success, I gave it up as impracticable, in any other way than that of incising and bringing them together by sutures; an operation to which the patient would not submit. By using the aperture which providence had supplied us with to communicate with the stomach, I ascertained, by attaching a small portion of food of different kinds to a string, and inserting it through his side, the exact time each takes for digestion, such as beef or pork, or mutton or fowl, or fish or vegetables, cooked in different ways.¹ We all know how long it takes to dress them, but we did not know how long a time they required for digestion. I will show you a comparative table."

¹ The village doctor appears to have appropriated to himself the credit due to another. The particulars of this remarkable case are to be found in a work published in New York in 1833, entitled "Experiments and observations on the gastric juices, and the physiology of digestion," by William Beaumont, M. D., Surgeon in the United States' Army, and also in the "Albion" newspaper of the same place for January 4, 1834.

"Thank you," sais I, "but I am afraid I must be a moving. "Fact is, my stomach was movin' then, for it fairly made me sick. Yes, I'd a plaguy sight sooner see a man embroidering, which is about as contemptible an accomplishment as an idler can have, than to hear him everlastingly smack his lips, and see him open his eyes and gloat like an anaconda before he takes down a bullock, horns, hair, and hoof, tank, shank, and flank, at one bolt, as if it was an opium pill to make him sleep.

Well, all this long lockrum arose out of my saying I should like to have the receipt by which Jessie's sister had cooked the salmon for dinner; and I intend to get it too, that's a fact. As we concluded our meal, "Doctor," sais I, "we have been meditating mischief in your absence. What do you say to our makin' a party to visit the 'Bachelor beaver's dam,' and see your museum, fixins, betterments, and what not?"

"Why," said he, "I should like it above all things; but--"

"But what?" said I.

"But I am afraid, as you must stay all night, if you go, my poor wigwam won't accommodate so many with beds."

"Oh! some of us will camp out," sais I, "I am used to it, and like it a plaguy sight better than hot rooms."

"Just the thing," said he. "Oh! Mr Slick, you are a man after my own heart. The nature of all foresters is alike, red or white, English or French, Yankee or Blue-nose."

Jessie looked up at the coÏncidence of that expression with what I had said yesterday.

"Blue-nose," said I, "Doctor," to familiarize the girl's mind to the idea I had started of the mixed race being on a footing of equality with the other two, "Blue-nose ought to be the best, for he is half Yankee and half English; two of the greatest people on the face of the airth!"

"True," said he, "by right he ought to be, and it's his own fault he ain't."

I thought it would be as well to drop the allusion there, so I said, "That's exactly what mother used to say when I did anything wrong: 'Sam, ain't you ashamed.' 'No, I ain't,' said I. 'Then you ought to be,' she'd reply.

"It's a fixed fact, then," said I, "that we go to-morrow to the Beaver dam?"

"Yes," said he, "I shall be delighted. Jessie, you and your sister will accompany us, won't you?"

"I should be charmed," she replied.

"I think you will be pleased with it," he continued, "it will just suit you; it's so quiet and retired. But you must let Etienne take the horse, and carry a letter to my sergeant and his commanding officer, Betty, to give them notice of our visit, or he will go through the whole campaign in Spain before he is done, and tell you how ill the commissariat-people were used, in not having notice given to them to lay in stores. I never was honoured with the presence of ladies there before, and he will tell you he is broken-hearted at the accommodation. I don't know what there is in the house; but the rod and the gun will supply us, I think, and the French boy, when he returns, will bring me word if anything is wanted from the shore."

"Jessie," said I, "can't you invite the two Highland lassies and their brother that were here last night, and let us have a reel this evening?"

"Oh! yes," she said, and going into the kitchen, the message was despatched immediately. As soon as the guests arrived, Peter produced his violin, and the doctor waking out of one of his brown studies, jumped up like a boy, and taking one of the new-comers by the hand, commenced a most joyous and rapid jig, the triumph of which seemed to consist in who should tire the other out. The girl had youth and agility on her side; but the doctor was not devoid of activity, and the great training which his constant exercise kept him in, threw the balance in his favour; so when he ceased, and declared the other victorious, it was evident that it was an act of grace, and not of necessity. After that we all joined in an eight-handed reel, and eight merrier and happier people I don't think were ever before assembled at Ship Harbour.

In the midst of it the door opened, and a tall, thin, cadaverous-looking man entered, and stood contemplating us in silence. He had a bilious-looking countenance, which the strong light of the fire and candles, when thrown upon it, rendered still more repulsive. He had a broad-brimmed hat on his head, which he did not condescend to remove, and carried in one hand a leather travelling-bag, as lean and as dark-complexioned as himself, and in the other a bundle of temperance newspapers. Peter seeing that he did not speak or advance, called out to him, with a face beaming with good humour, as he kept bobbing his head, and keeping time with his foot (for his whole body was affected by his own music).

"Come in, friend, come in, she is welcome. Come in, she is playin' herself just now, but she will talk to you presently." And then he stamped his foot to give emphasis to the turn of the tune, as if he wanted to astonish the stranger with his performance.

The latter however not only seemed perfectly insensible to its charms, but immoveable. Peter at last got up from his chair, and continued playing as he advanced towards him; but he was so excited by what was going on among the young people, that he couldn't resist dancing himself, as he proceeded down the room, and when he got to him, capered and fiddled at the same time.

"Come," said he, as he jumped about in front of him, "come and join in;" and liftin' the end of his bow suddenly, tipt off his hat for him, and said, "Come, she will dance with you herself."

The stranger deliberately laid down his travelling-bag and paper parcel, and lifting up both hands said, "Satan, avaunt." But Peter misunderstood him, and thought he said, "Sartain, I can't."

"She canna do tat," he replied, "can't she, then she'll teach you the step herself. This is the way," and his feet approached so near the solemncolly man that he retreated a step or two as if to protect his shins. Everybody in the room was convulsed with laughter, for all saw what the intruder was, and the singular mistake Peter was making. It broke up the reel. The doctor put his hands to his sides, bent forward, and made the most comical contortions of face. In this position he shuffled across the room, and actually roared out with laughter.

I shall never forget the scene; I have made a sketch of it, to illustrate this for you. There was this demure sinner, standing bolt upright in front of the door, his hat hanging on the handle, which had arrested it in its fall, and his long black hair, as if partaking of his consternation, flowing wildly over his cheeks; while Peter, utterly unconscious that no one was dancing, continued playing and capering in front of him, as if he was ravin distracted, and the doctor bent forward, pressing his sides with his hands, as if to prevent their bursting, laughed as if he was in hysterics. It was the most comical thing I ever saw. I couldn't resist it no longer, so I joined the trio.

"Come, Doctor," sais I, "a three-handed reel," and entering into the joke, he seized the stranger by one hand, and I by the other, and before our silent friend knew where he was, he was in the middle of the floor, and though he was not made to dance, he was pushed or flung into his place, and turned and faced about as if he was taking his first lesson. At last, as if by common consent, we all ceased laughing, from sheer exhaustion. The stranger still kept his position in the centre of the floor, and when silence was restored, raised his hands again in pious horror, and said, in a deep, sepulchral voice:

"Fiddling and dancing, and serving the devil. Do you ever think of your latter end?"

"Thee had better think of thine, friend," I whispered, assuming the manner of a quaker for fun, "for Peter is a rough customer, and won't stand upon ceremony."

"Amhic an aibhisteir (son of the devil)," said Peter, shaking his fist at him, "if she don't like it, she had better go. It's her own house, and she will do what she likes in it. Faat does she want?"

"I want the man called Samuel Slick," said he.

"Verily," sais I, "friend, I am that man, and wilt thee tell me who thee is that wantest me, and where thee livest?"

"Men call me," he said, "Jehu Judd, and when to home, I live in Quaco in New Brunswick."

I was glad of that, because it warn't possible the critter could know anything of me, and I wanted to draw him out.

"And what does thee want, friend?" I said.

"I come to trade with you, to sell you fifty barrels of mackerel, and to procure some nets for the fishery, and some manufactures, commonly called domestics."

"Verily," sais I, "thee hast an odd way of opening a trade, methinks, friend Judd. Shaking quakers dance piously, as thee mayest have heard, and dost thee think thy conduct seemly? What mayest thee be, friend?"

"A trader," he replied.

"Art thee not a fisher of men, friend, as well as a fisher of fish?"

"I am a Christian man," he said, "of the sect called 'come-outers,'¹ and have had experience, and when I meet the brethren, sometimes I speak a word in season."

¹ Come-outers. This name has been applied to a considerable number of persons in various parts of the Northern States, principally in New England, who have recently come out of the various religious denominations with which they have been connected; hence the name. They have not themselves assumed any distinctive organization. They have no creed, believing that every one should be left free to hold such opinions on religious subjects as he pleases, without being held accountable for the same to any human authority--Bartlett's Americanisms.

"Well, friend, thee has spoken thy words out of season tonight," I said.

"Peradventure I was wrong," he replied, "and if so, I repent me of it."

"Of a certainty thee was, friend. Thee sayest thy name is Jehu; now he was a hard rider, and it may be thee drivest a hard bargain, if so, go thy ways, for thee cannot 'make seed-corn off of me;' if not, tarry here till this company goeth, and then I will talk to thee touching the thing called mackarel. Wilt thee sit by the fire till the quaker ceaseth his dancing, and perhaps thee may learn what those words mean, 'and the heart danceth for joy,' or it may be thee will return to thy vessel, and trade in the morning."

"No man knoweth," he said, "what an hour may bring forth; I will bide my time."

"The night is cold at this season," said Peter, who considered that the laws of hospitality required him to offer the best he had in his house to a stranger, so he produced some spirits, as the most acceptable thing he possessed, and requested him to help himself.

"I care not if I do," he said, "for my pledge extendeth not so far as this," and he poured himself out a tumbler of brandy and water, that warn't half-and-half, but almost the whole hog. Oh, gummy, what a horn! it was strong enough almost to throw an ox over a five-bar gate. It made his eyes twinkle, I tell you, and he sat down and began to look as if he thought the galls pretty.

"Come, Peter," said I, "strike up, the stranger will wait awhile."

"Will she dance," said he, "tam her."

"No," said I, but I whispered to the doctor, "he will reel soon," at which he folded his arms across his breast and performed his gyrations as before. Meanwhile Cutler and Frazer, and two of the girls, commenced dancing jigs, and harmony was once more restored. While they were thus occupied, I talked over the arrangements for our excursion on the morrow with Jessie, and the doctor entered into a close examination of Jehu Judd, as to the new asphalt mines in his province. He informed him of the enormous petrified trunks of palm-trees that have been found while exploring the coal-fields, and warmed into eloquence as he enumerated the mineral wealth and great resources of that most beautiful colony. The doctor expressed himself delighted with the information he had received, whereupon Jehu rose and asked him in token of amity to pledge him in a glass of Peter's excellent cognac, and without waiting for a reply, filled a tumbler and swallowed it at one gulp.

My, what a pull that was. Thinks I to myself, "Friend, if that don't take the wrinkles out of the parchment case of your conscience, then I don't know nothin', that's all." Oh dear, how all America is overrun with such cattle as this; how few teach religion, or practise it right. How hard it is to find the genuine article. Some folks keep the people in ignorance, and make them believe the moon is made of green cheese; others, with as much sense, fancy the world is. One has old saints, the other invents new ones. One places miracles at a distance, t'other makes them before their eyes, while both are up to mesmerism. One says there is no marryin' in Paradise, the other says, if that's true, it's hard, and it is best to be a mormon and to have polygamy here. Then there is a third party who says, neither of you speak sense, it is better to believe nothin' than to give yourself up to be crammed. Religion, Squire, ain't natur, because it is intended to improve corrupt natur, it's no use talkin' therefore, it can't be left to itself, otherwise it degenerates into something little better than animal instinct. It must be taught, and teaching must have authority as well as learning. There can be no authority where there is no power to enforce, and there can be no learning where there is no training. If there must be normal schools to qualify schoolmasters, there must be Oxfords and Cambridges to qualify clergymen. At least that's my idea. Well, if there is a qualified man, he must be supported while he is working. But if he has to please his earthly employer, instead of obeying his heavenly Master, the better he is qualified the more dangerous he is. If he relies on his congregation, the order of things is turned upside down. He serves mammon, and not God. If he does his duty he must tell unpleasant truths, and then he gets a walkin' ticket. Who will hire a servant, pay him for his time, find a house for him to live in, and provide him in board, if he has a will of his own, and won't please his employer by doin' what he is ordered to do? I don't think you would, Squire, and I know I wouldn't.

No, a fixed, settled church, like ourn, or yours, Squire, is the best. There is safe anchorage ground in them, and you don't go draggin' your flukes with every spurt of wind, or get wrecked if there is a gale that rages round you. There is something strong to hold on to. There are good buoys, known landmarks, and fixed light-houses, so that you know how to steer, and not helter-skelter lights movin' on the shore like will-o'-the whisps, or wreckers' false fires, that just lead you to destruction. The medium between the two churches, for the clergy, would be the right thing. In yours they are too independent of the people, with us a little too dependent. But we are coming up to the notch by making moderate endowments, which will enable the minister to do what is right, and not too large to make him lazy or careless. Well then, in neither of them is a minister handed over to a faction to try. Them that make the charges ain't the judges, which is a Magna Charta for him.

Yes, I like our episcopal churches, they teach, persuade, guide, and paternally govern, but they have no dungeons, no tortures, no fire and sword. They ain't afraid of the light, for, as minister used to say, "their light shines afore men." Just see what sort of a system it must be that produces such a man as Jehu Judd. And yet Jehu finds it answer his purpose in his class to be what he is. His religion is a cloak, and that is a grand thing for a pick-pocket. It hides his hands, while they are fumblin' about your waistcoat and trousers, and then conceals the booty. You can't make tricks if your adversary sees your hands, you may as well give up the game.

But to return to the evangelical trader. Before we recommenced dancing again, I begged the two Gaelic girls, who were bouncing, buxom lasses, and as strong as Shetland ponies, to coax or drag him up for a reel. Each took a hand of his and tried to persuade him. Oh, weren't they full of smiles, and didn't they look rosy and temptin'? They were sure, they said, so good-lookin' a man as he was, must have learned to dance, or how could he have given it up?

"For a single man like you," said Catherine.

"I am not a single man," said Old Piety, "I am a widower, a lonely man in the house of Israel."

"Oh, Catherine," sais I, a givin' her a wink, "take care of theeself, or thy Musquodobit farm, with its hundred acres of intervale meadow, and seventy head of horned cattle, is gone."

He took a very amatory look at her after that hint.

"Verily she would be a duck in Quaco, friend Jehu," said I.

"Indeed would she, anywhere," he said, looking sanctified Cupids at her, as pious galls do who show you the place in your prayer-book at church.

"Ah, there is another way methinks she would be a duck," said I, "the maiden would soon turn up the whites of her eyes at dancin' like a duck in thunder, as the profane men say."

"Oh, oh," said the doctor, who stood behind me, "I shall die, he'll kill me. I can't stand this, oh, how my sides ache."

"Indeed I am afraid I shall always be a wild duck," said Catherine.

"They are safer from the fowler," said Jehu, "for they are wary and watchful."

"If you are a widower," she said, "you ought to dance."

"Why do you think so?" said he; but his tongue was becoming thick, though his eyes were getting brighter.

"Because," she said, "a widower is an odd critter."

"Odd?" he replied, "in what way odd, dear?"

"Why," said the girl, "an ox of ourn lately lost his mate, and my brother called him the odd ox, and not the single ox, and he is the most frolicksome fellow you ever see. Now, as you have lost your mate, you are an odd one, and if you are lookin' for another to put its head into the yoke, you ought to go frolickin' everywhere too!"

"Do single critters ever look for mates?" said he, slily.

"Well done," said I, "friend Jehu. The drake had the best of the duck that time. Thee weren't bred in Quaco for nothin'. Come, rouse up, wake snakes, and walk chalks, as the thoughtless children of evil say. I see thee is warmin' to the subject."

"Men do allow," said he, lookin' at me with great self-complacency, "that in speech I am peeowerful."

"Come, Mary," said I, addressin' the other sister, "do thee try thy persuasive powers, but take care of thy grandmother's legacy, the two thousand pounds thee hast in the Pictou Bank. It is easier for that to go to Quaco than the farm."

"Oh, never fear," said she.

"Providence," he continued, "has been kind to these virgins. They are surprising comely, and well endowed with understanding and money," and he smirked first at one and then at the other, as if he thought either would do--the farm or the legacy.

"Come," they both said, and as they gave a slight pull, up he sprung to his feet. The temptation was too great for him: two pairs of bright eyes, two pretty faces, and two hands in his filled with Highland blood--and that ain't cold--and two glasses of grog within, and two fortunes without, were irresistible.

So said he," If I have offended, verily I will make amends; but dancing is a dangerous thing, and a snare to the unwary. The hand and waist of a maiden in the dance lead not to serious thoughts."

"It's because thee so seldom feels them," I said. "Edged tools never wound thee when thee is used to them, and the razor that cutteth the child, passeth smoothly over the chin of a man. He who locketh up his daughters, forgetteth there is a window and a ladder, and if gaiety is shut out of the house, it is pitied and admitted when the master is absent or asleep. When it is harboured by stealth and kept concealed, it loses its beauty and innocence, and waxeth wicked. The crowd that leaveth a night-meeting is less restrained than the throng that goeth to a lighted ball-room. Both are to be avoided; one weareth a cloak that conceals too much, the other a thin vestment that reveals more than is seemly. Of the two, it is better to court observation than shun it. Dark thoughts lead to dark deeds."

"There is much reason in what you say," he said; "I never had it put to me in that light before. I have heard of the shakers, but never saw one before you, nor was aware that they danced."

"Did thee never hear," said I, "when thee was a boy,

"'Merrily dance the quaker's wife,
And merrily dance the quaker?'

and so on?"

"No, never," said he.

"Then verily, friend, I will show thee how a quaker can dance. They call us shakers, from shaking our feet so spry. Which will thee choose--the farm or the legacy?"

Mary took his hand, and led him to his place, the music struck up, and Peter gave us one of his quickest measures. Jehu now felt the combined influence of music, women, brandy, and dancing, and snapped his fingers over his head, and stamped his feet to mark the time, and hummed the tune in a voice that from its power and clearness astonished us all.

"Well done, old boy," said I, for I thought I might drop the quaker now, "well done, old boy," and I slapped him on the back, "go it while you are young, make up for lost time: now for the double shuffle. Dod drot it, you are clear grit and no mistake. You are like a critter that boggles in the collar at the first go off, and don't like the start, but when you do lay legs to it you certainly ain't no slouch, I know."

The way he cut carlicues ain't no matter. From humming he soon got to a full cry, and from that to shouting. His antics overcame us all. The doctor gave the first key-note. "Oh, oh, that man will be the death of me," and again rubbed himself round the wall, in convulsions of laughter. Peter saw nothing absurd in all this, on the contrary, he was delighted with the stranger.

"Oigh," he said, "ta preacher is a goot feller after all, she will tance with her hern ainsel;" and fiddling his way up to him again, he danced a jig with Jehu, to the infinite amusement of us all. The familiarity which Mr Judd exhibited with the steps and the dance, convinced me that he must have often indulged in it before he became a Christian. At last he sat down, not a little exhausted with the violent exertion, but the liquor made him peeowerful thick-legged, and his track warn't a bee line, I tell you. After a while a song was proposed, and Mary entreated him to favour us with one.

"Dear Miss," said he, "pretty Miss," and his mouth resembled that of a cat contemplating a pan of milk that it cannot reach, "lovely maiden, willingly would I comply, if Sall Mody (Psalmody) will do, but I have forgotten my songs."

"Try this," said I, and his strong, clear voice rose above us all, as he joined us in--

"Yes, Lucy is a pretty girl,
Such lubly hands and feet,
When her toe is in the Market-house,
Her heel is in Main Street.
"Oh take your time, Miss Lucy,
Miss Lucy, Lucy Long,
Rock de cradle, Lucy,
And listen to de song."

He complained of thirst and fatigue after this, and rising, said, "I am peeowerful dry, by jinks," and helped himself so liberally, that he had scarcely resumed his seat before he was fast asleep, and so incapable of sustaining himself in a sitting posture, that we removed him to the sofa, and loosening his cravat, placed him in a situation where he could repose comfortably. We then all stood round the evangelical "Come-outer," and sang in chorus:

"My old master, Twiddledum Don,
Went to bed with his trousers on,
One shoe off, and the other shoe on--
That's the description of Twiddledum Don."

"Oh, my old 'Come-outer,'" said I, as I took my last look at him for the night, "you have 'come-out' in your true colours at last, but this comes of 'fiddling and dancing, and serving the devil.'"