"In course he is," replied Frank, who had recovered his wonted
equanimity, and who, having been most unmercifully rallied by the whole
party for leaving his bullets at home, was glad of an opportunity to
carry the war into the enemy's country, "in course he is a great deal
better--if a thing can be said to be better which, under all
circumstances, is so infernally bad, as that brute. I should think he
was better for it. Why, by the time he's had half a dozen more such
purls, he'll leap a six foot fence without shaking a loose rail. In
fact, I'll bet a dollar I carry him back over that same wall without
touching a stone." And, as he spoke, he set his foot into the stirrup,
as if he were about to put his threat into immediate execution.
"Quit, Forester--quit, I say--quit, now--consarn the hide on you"--
shouted the fat man, now in great tribulation, and apprehending a second
edition of the tumble--"quit foolin', or by h--l I'll put a grist of
shot, or one of they green cartridges into you stret away--I will, by
the Etarnal!" and as he spoke he dropped the muzzle of his gun, and put
his thumb upon the cock.
"I say quit foolin', too," cried Harry, "both of you quit it; you old
fool, Tom, do you really suppose he is mad enough to ride that brute of
yours again at the wall?"
"Mad enough!--Yes, I swon he be," responded Tom; "both of you be as mad
as the hull Asylum down to York.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274