at; the simple-looking man in
the labouring dress laughed.

"What are you laughing at, you fool?" said the radical, turning and
looking at the other, who appeared to be afraid of him, "hold your noise;
and a pretty fellow, you," said he, looking at me, "to come here, and
speak against the great American nation."

"I speak against the great American nation?" said I: "I rather paid them
a compliment."

"By supposing they would put me in the stocks? Well, I call it abusing
them, to suppose they would do any such thing. Stocks, indeed!--there
are no stocks in all the land. Put me in the stocks? why, the President
will come down to the quay, and ask me to dinner, as soon as he hears
what I have said about the King and the Church."

"I shouldn't wonder," said I, "if you go to America, you will say of the
President and country what now you say of the King and Church, and cry
out for somebody to sent you back to England."

The radical dashed his pipe to pieces against the table. "I tell you
what, young fellow, you are a spy of the aristocracy, sent here to kick
up a disturbance."

"Kicking up a disturbance," said I, "is rather inconsistent with the
office of spy. If I were a spy, I should hold my head down, and say
nothing."

The man in black {106} partially raised his head, and gave me another
peculiar glance.

"Well, if you ar'n't sent to spy, you are sent to bully, to prevent
people speaking, and to run down the great American nation; but you
sha'n't bully me. I say, down with the aristocracy, the beggarly
aristocracy! Come, what have you to say to that?"

"Nothing," said I.

"Nothing!" repeated the radical.

"No," said I: "down with them as soon as you can."

"As soon as I can! I wish I could. But I can down with a bully of
theirs. Come, will you fight for them?"

"No," said I.

"You won't?"

"No," said I; "though from what I have seen of them I should say they are
tolerably able to fight for themselves."

"You won't fight for them," said the radical, triumphantly; "I thought
so; all bullies, especially those of the aristocracy, are cowards. Here,
landlord," said he, raising his voice, and striking against the table
with the jug, "some more ale--he won't fight for his friends."

"A white feather," said his companion.

"He! he!" tittered the man in black.

"Landlord, landlord," shouted the radical, striking the table with the
jug louder than before.

"Who called?" said the landlord, com