[Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia by William Gilmore Simms]@TWC D-Link bookGuy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia CHAPTER VI 30/44
He has sold us tin stuffs, that didn't stand hot water at all; and then thinks to get off, by saying they were not made for our climate.
And let me ask, Mr.Chairman, if they wasn't made for our climate, why did he bring 'em here? let him come to the scratch, and answer that, neighbors--but he can't.
Well, then, as you've all hearn, he has traded clocks to us at money's worth, that one day ran faster than a Virginny race-mare, and at the very next day, would strike lame, and wouldn't go at all, neither for beating nor coaxing--and besides all these doings, neighbors, if these an't quite enough to carry a skunk to the horsepond, he has committed his abominations without number, all through the country high and low--for hain't he lied and cheated, and then had the mean cowardice to keep out of the way of the _regilators_, who have been on the look-out for his tracks for the last half year? Now, if these things an't _desarving_ of punishment, there's nobody fit to be hung--there's nobody that ought to be whipped.
Hickories oughtn't to grow any longer, and the best thing the governor can do would be to have all the jails burnt down from one eend of the country to the other. The proof stands up agin Bunce, and there's no denying it; and it's no use, no how, to let this fellow come among us, year after year, to play the same old hand, take our money for his rascally goods, then go away and laugh at us.
And the question before us is jist what I have said, and what shall we do with the critter? To show you that it's high time to do something in the matter, look at this calico print, that looks, to be sure, very well to the eye, except, as you see, here's a tree with red leaves and yellow flowers--a most ridiculous notion, indeed, for who ever seed a tree with sich colors here, in the very beginning of summer ?" Here the pedler, for the moment, more solicitous for the credit of the manufactures than for his own safety, ventured to suggest that the print was a mere fancy, a matter of taste--in fact, a notion, and not therefore to be judged by the standard which had been brought to decide upon its merits.
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