e them himself; and that Loch Katrin, that they make such a touss
about, is jist about equal to a good sizeable duck-pond in our country;
at least, that's my idea. For I tell you it does not do to follow arter
a poet, and take all he says for gospel.

"Yes, let's go and see Sawney in his "Ould _Reeky_." Airth and seas! if
I have any nose at all, there never was a place so well named as that.
Phew! let me light a cigar to get rid of the fogo of it.

"Then let's cross over and see "Pat at Home;" let's look into
matters and things there, and see what "Big Dan" is about, with his
"association" and "agitation" and "repail" and "tee-totals." Let's see
whether it's John Bull or Patlander that's to blame, or both on 'em; six
of one and half-a-dozen of tother. By Gosh! Minister would talk, more
sense in one day to Ireland, than has been talked there since the
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.

"'W