'How did you like Brother Josh, to-day ?' says Sourcrout, a utterin' of it through his nose.

Good men always speak through the nose.
It's what comes out o' the mouth that defiles a man; but there is no mistake in the nose; it's the porch of the temple that.

'How did you like Brother Josh ?' "'Well, he wasn't very peeowerful.' "'Was he ever peeowerful ?' "'Well, when a boy, they say he was considerable sum as a wrastler.' "Sourcrout won't larf, because it's agin rules; but he gig goggles like a turkey-cock, and says he, 'It's for ever and ever the same thing with Brother Josh.

He is like an over-shot mill, one everlastin' wishy-washy stream.' "'When the water ain't quite enough to turn the wheel, and only spatters, spatters, spatters,' says Coldslaugh.
"Sourcrout gig goggles again, as if he was swallerin' shelled corn whole.

'That trick of wettin' the hay,' says he, 'to make it weigh heavy, warn't cleverly done; it ain't pretty to be caught; it's only bunglers do that.' "'He is so fond of temperance,' says Coldslaugh, 'he wanted to make his hay jine society, and drink cold water, too.' "Sourcrout gig goggles ag'in, till he takes a fit of the asmy, sets down on a stump, claps both hands on his sides, and coughs, and coughs till he finds coughing no joke no more.