said the Colonel, "and if you ever feel so
essentially chawed up, _raw_, as I did in the calaboose, the Lord pity
you!"
There was a "modern instance" of Colonel Crockett's "wise saw," in the
case of a certain Philadelphia millionaire, who was in the habit of
_carting_ himself out, in a very ancient and excessively shabby gig;
which, in consequence of its utter ignorance of the stable-boy's brush,
sponge or broom, and the hospitalities the old concern nightly offered
the hens--was not exactly the kind of _equipage_ calculated to win
attention or marked respect, for the owner and driver. The old
millionaire, one day in early October, took it into his head to ride
out and see the country. Taking an early start, the old gentleman, and
his old bob-tailed, frost-bitten-looking horse, with that same old
shabby gig, about dusk, found themselves under the swinging sign of a
Pennsylvania Dutch tavern, in the neighborhood of Reading. As nobody
bestirred themselves to see to the traveller, he put his very
old-fashioned face and wig outside of the vehicle, and called--
"Hel-lo! hos-e-lair? Landlord?"
Leisurely stalking down the steps, the Dutch hostler advanced towards
the queer and questionable travelling equipage.
"Vel, vot you vont, ah?"
"Vat sal I vant? I sal vant to put oup my hoss, vis-ze stab'l, viz two
pecks of oats and plenty of hay, hos-e-lair."
"Yaw," was the laconic grunt of the hostler, as he proceeded to unhitch
old bald-face from his rigging.
"Stop one little," said the traveller. "I see 'tis very mosh like to
rain, to-night; put up my gig in ze stab'l, too."
"Boosh, tonner and blitzen, der rain not hurt yer ole gig!"
"I pay you for vat you sal do for me, mind vat I sal say, sair, if you
pleaze."
The hostler, very surlily, led the traveller's weary old brute to the
stable; but, prior to carrying out the orders of the traveller, he
sought the landlord, to know if it would _pay_ to put up the shabby
concern, and treat the old horse to a real feed of hay and oats, without
making some inquiries into the financial situation of the old Frenchman.
The landlord, with a country lawyer and a neighboring farmer, were at
the _Bar_, one of those old-fashioned _slatted_ coops, in a corner,
peculiar to Pennsylvania, discussing the merits of a law suit, seizure
of the property, &c., of a deceased tiller of the soil, in the vicinity.
Busily chatting, and quaffing their _toddy_, the entrance of the poor
old tr
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