'Remember Secretary's clerk,' says he, a touchin' of his hat, 'give him a little tip of thirty pound sterling, your honour.' Well, colonist had a drop of Yankee blood in him, which was about one third molasses, and, of course, one third more of a man than they commonly is, and so he jist ups and says, 'I'll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond Jordan fust.

The office ain't worth the fee.

Take it and sell it to some one else that has more money nor wit.' He did, upon my soul." "No, don't send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to me at eleven o'clock to-night, for I shall be the toploftiest feller about that time you've seen this while past, I tell you.

Stop till I touch land once more, that's all; the way I'll stretch my legs ain't no matter." He then uttered the negro ejaculation "chah!--chah!" and putting his arms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary style to the music of a song, which he gave with great expression: "Oh hab you nebber heerd ob de battle ob Orleens, Where de dandy Yankee lads gave de Britishers de beans; Oh de Louisiana boys dey did it pretty slick, When dey cotch ole Packenham and rode him up a creek.
Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey, Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey.
"Oh yes, send Secretary to me at eleven or twelve to-night, I'll be in tune then, jist about up to concart pitch.

I'll smoke with him, or drink with him, or swap stories with him, or wrastle with him, or make a fool of him, or lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I've done, I'll rise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose, bow pretty, and say 'Remember me, your honour?
Don't forget the tip ?' Lord, how I long to walk into some o' these chaps, and give 'em the beans! and I will yet afore I'm many days older, hang me if I don't.