86 BRET harte's CHOICE BITS.
"You infernal rascal 1"
"Ah, Captain, and would ye be refusin' me a
carrakther and me givin' ye such a one as Oi did !
Save us ! but if ye'd only hav' seen the luk that the
purty one give ye. Well, before the chills and
faver bruk me spirits entirely, when I was a young
man, and makin' me tin dollars a week brick-makin',
it's meself that wud hav' given"—
'' I consider," I broke in, " that a dollar is a fair
price for your story, and as I shall have to take it
all back and expose you before the next twenty-four
hours pass, I think you had better hasten to Mil¬
waukee, New York, or Louisiana."
I handed him the dollar. "Mind, I don't want
to see your face again."
" Ye wun't. Captain."
And I did not.
But it so chanced that later in the season, when
the migratory inhabitants had flown to their hot-air
registers in Boston and Providence, I breakfasted
with one who had lingered. It was a certain Boston
lawyer,—replete with principle, honesty, self-disci¬
pline, statistics, aesthetics, and a perfect consciousness
of possessing all these virtues, and a full recognition
of their market values. I think he tolerated me as
a kind of foreigner, gently but firmly waiving all
argument on any topic, frequently distrusting my
facts, generally my deductions, and always my ideas.
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