"Why, what the d----l, d----d sort of fist is this you've given me, you
bird of blackness! where got you this vile scrawl?--faugh! you've had it
in your jaws, you raven, have you not?"
The terrified urchin retreated a few paces while answering the inquiry.
"No, mass lawyer--de pedler--da him gib um to me so. I bring um straight
as he gib um."
"The pedler! why, where is he?--what the devil can he have to write
about?" was the universal exclamation.
"The pedler!" said the lawyer, and his sobriety grew strengthened at the
thought of business; he called to the waiter and whispered in his ears--
"Hark ye, cuffee; go bring out the pedler's horse, saddle him with my
saddle which lies in the gallery, bring him to the tree, and, look ye,
make no noise about it, you scoundrel, as you value your ears."
Cuffee was gone on his mission--and the whole assembly aroused by the
name of the pedler and the mysterious influence of the communication
upon the lawyer, gathered, with inquiries of impatience, around him.
Pages:
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176