ocks when the mosquitoes are steaming up a little beyond high
pressure. I guess Prince Albert and the big uns don't find their seats
quite as soft as buttered eels in a mud bank! Look here--isn't it
considerable clear they're all funking like burnt Cayenne in a clay pipe;
or couldn't they have made a raise some how to get a ship of their own, or
borrow one, to send after that caged-up 'coon of a Macleod? It's my
notion, and pretty considerable clear to me, they're all bounce, like bad
chesnuts, very well to look at, but come to try them at the fire for a
roast, and they turn out puff and shell. They talk of war as the boy did
of whipping his father, but like him, they daresn't do it, and why not?
why, for the following elegant reasons:--Since they have been used to the
advantages of doing their little retail trade with our own go-ahead and
carry-all-before-it right slick-up-an-end double-distilled essence of a
genuine fine and civilised country, the everlasting 'possums have become
habituated to some of the manners of our enlightened inhabitants. We have
nothing to do but refuse the supply of cottons, and leave them all with as
little shirts to their backs as wool on a skinned eel. Isn't it the
intercourse with this here country that enables them to speak their very
language with something rayther like a leetle correctness, though they're
just about as far behind us as the last jint of the sea-sarpent is from
his eye-tooth?

"Doesn't all international law consist in keeping an everlasting bright
look-out on your own side, and jamming all other varments slick through a
stone wall, as the waggon-wheel used up the lame frog? (Hear, hear.) I
say--and mind you I'll stick to it like a starved sloth to the back of a
fat babby--I say, gentlemen, this country, the United States (particularly
Kentucky, from which I come, and which will whip all the rest with
out-straws and rotten bull-rushes agin pike, bagnet, mortars, and all
their almighty fine artillery), I say, then, this country is considerable
like a genuine fac-simile of the waggon-wheel, and the pretty oneasy
busted-up old worn-out island of the bull-headed Britishers, ain't nothing
more than the tee-totally used-up frog. (Hear, hear.)

"I expect they'd have just as much chance with us as a muzzled monkey with
a hiccory-nut. Talk of their fleet! I'll bet six live niggers to a dead
'coon, our genuine Yankee clippers will whip them into as bad a fix as a
flying-fish with a