It pierced me through and through, and curdled my very blood, it was the death shout of a savage.) "G'lang you skunk, and turn out your toes pretty," said he, and he again repeated this long protracted, shrill, infernal yell, a second time.
Every eye was instantly turned upon us.

Even Tattersall suspended his "he is five years old--a good hack--and is to be sold," to give time for the general exclamation of surprise.

"Who the devil is that?
Is he mad?
Where did _he_ come from?
Does any body know him?
He is a devilish keen-lookin' fellow that; what an eye he has! He looks like a Yankee, that fellow." "He's been here, your honour, several days, examines every thing and says nothing; looks like a knowing one, your honour.

He handles a hoss as if he'd seen one afore to-day, Sir." "Who is that gentleman with him ?" "Don't know, your honour, never saw him before; he looks like a furriner, too." "Come, Mr.Slick," said I, "we are attracting too much attention here, let us go." "Cuss 'em," said he, "I'll attract more attention afore I've done yet, when Old Clay comes, and then I'll tell 'em who I am--Sam Slick, from Slickville, Onion County, State of Connecticut, United States of America.

But I do suppose we had as good make tracks, for I don't want folks to know me yet.