rebellion; for common sense is a word that don't grow like Jacob's
ladder, in them diggins, I guess. It's about, as stunted as Gineral
Nichodemus Ott's corn was.

"The Gineral was takin' a ride with a southerner one day over his farm
to Bangor in Maine, to see his crops, fixin mill privileges and what
not, and the southerner was a turning up his nose at every thing amost,
proper scorney, and braggin' how things growed on his estate down south.
At last the Gineral's ebenezer began to rise, and he got as mad as a
hatter, and was intarmed to take a rise out of him.

"'So,' says he, 'stranger,' says he, 'you talk about your Indgian corn,
as if nobody else raised any but yourself. Now I'll bet you a thousand
dollars, I have corn that's growd so wonderful, you can't reach the top
of it a standin' on your horse.'

"'Done,' sais Southener, and 'Done,' sais the General, and done it was.

"'Now,' sais the Giniral, 'stand up on your saddle like a circus rider,
for the field is round that corner of the wood there.' And the entire
stranger stood up as stiff as a poker. 'Tall corn, I guess,' sais he,
'if I can't reach it, any how, for I can e'en a'most reach the top o'
them trees. I think I feel them thousand dollars of yourn, a marchin'
quick step into my pocket, four deep. Reach your corn, to be sure I
will. Who the plague, ever see'd corn so tall, that a man couldn't reach
it a horseback.'

"'Try it,' sais the Gineral, as he led him into the field, where the
corn was only a foot high, the land was so monstrous, mean and so
beggarly poor.

"'Reach it,' sais the Gineral.

"'What a damned Yankee trick,' sais the Southener. 'What a take in
this is, ain't it?' and he leapt, and hopt, and jumped like a snappin'
turtle, he was so mad. Yes, common sense to Ireland, is like Indgian
corn to Bangor, it ain't overly tall growin', that's a fact. We must see
both these countries together. It is like the nigger's pig to the West
Indies "little and dam old."

"Oh, come back soon, Squire, I have a thousand things, I want to tell
you, and I shall forget one half o' them, if you don't; and besides,"
said he in an onder tone, "_he_" (nodding his head towards Mr.
Hopewell,) "will miss you shockingly. He frets horridly about his flock.
He says, ''Mancipation and Temperance have superceded the Scriptures
in the States. That formerly they preached religion there, but now they
only preach about niggers and rum.' Good bye, Squire."

"You do rig