ends, and got bilked by our
new ones tarnationly. What did all their fine speeches end in at last?
Bunkum; damn the thing but Bunkum.

"But that aint the wust of it, nother. Bunkum, like lyin', is plaguy apt
to make a man believe his own bams at last. From telling 'em so often,
he forgets whether he grow'd 'em or dreamt 'em, and so he stands'
right up on end, kisses the book, and swears to 'em, as positive as the
Irishman did to the gun, which he said he know'd ever since it was a
pistol. Now, _that's Bunkum_.

"But to get back to what we was a talkin' of, did you ever hear such bad
speakin' in your life, now tell me candid? because if you have, I never
did, that's all. Both sides was bad, it aint easy to say which is wus,
six of one and half a dozen of t'other, nothin to brag of nary way. That
government man, that spoke in their favour, warn't his speech rich?

"Lord love you! I aint no speaker, I never made but one speech since I
was raised, and that was afore a Slickville legislatur, and then I broke
down. I know'd who I was a talkin' afore; they was men that had cut
their eye-teeth, and that you could'nt pull the wool over their eyes,
nohow you could fix it, and I was young then. Now I'm growed up, I
guess, and I've got my narves in the right place, and as taught as a
drum; and I _could_ speak if I was in the House o' Commons, that's a
fact. If a man was to try there, that was worth any thin', he'd find he
was a flute without knowin' it. They don't onderstand nothin' but Latin
and Greek, and I'd buoy out them sand banks, keep the lead agoin', stick
to the channel, and never take ground, I know. The way I'd cut water
aint no matter. Oh Solomon! what a field for good speakin' that question
was to-night, if they only had half an eye, them fellers, and what
a'most a beautiful mess they made of it on both sides!

"I ain't a vain man, and never was. You know, Squire, I hante a mossel
of it in my composition; no, if you was to look at me with a ship's
glass you wouldn't see a grease spot of it in me. I don't think any of
us Yankees is vain people; it's a thing don't grow in our diggins. We
have too much sense in a giniral way for that; indeed if we wanted any,
we couldn't get none for love nor money, for John Bull has a monopoly
of it. He won't open the trade. It's a home market he looks to, and the
best of it is, he thinks he hante none to spare.

"Oh, John Bull, John Bull, when you are full rigged, with your white
c