Having thrown out these hints to our readers, we beg them to accompany us once more to the parlor of Clinton the gauger and his nephew.
"So, uncle, now that you have been promoted to the Supervisorship, you abandon the farm; you abandon Ahadarra ?" "Why, won't I be out of the district, you blockhead?
and you persist in refusing it besides." "Most positively; but I always suspected that Fethertonge was a scoundrel, as his conduct in that very business with you was a proo--hem, ahem." "Go on," said the uncle, coolly, "don't be ashamed, Harry; I was nearly as great a scoundrel in that business as he was.

I told you before that I look upon the world as one great pigeon, which every man who can, without exposing, himself, is obliged to pluck.

Now, in the matter of the farm, I only was about to pluck out a feather or two to put in my own nest--or yours, if you had stood it." "At any rate, uncle, I must admit that you are exceedingly candid." "No such thing, you fool; there is scarcely an atom of candor in my whole composition--I mean to the world, whatever I may be to you.
Candor, Harry, my boy, is a virtue which very few in this life, as it goes, can afford to practice--at least I never could." "Well but, uncle, is it not a pity to see that honest family ruined and driven out of the country by the villany of Burke on the one hand, and the deliberate fraud and corruption of Fethertonge, on the other.

However, now that you are resolved to unmask Fethertonge, I am satisfied.

It's a proof that you don't wish to see an honest family oppressed and turned, without reasonable compensation, out of their property." "It's a proof of no such thing, I tell you.