, to be jist what he is. He has traded rotten stuffs about the
country, that went to pieces the first washing. He has traded calico
prints, warranted for fast colors, that ran faster than he ever ran
himself. 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. He did not venture, however, to say what, perhaps,
would have been the true horn of the difficulty, that the print was an