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Baugh now reduced their finances further for a shave, while he meditated how he would launch his scheme. An hour afterwards, he walked up to the bar, and asked, "Is Mr. Seigerman in?" "Dot ish my name, sir," said the man behind the bar. "Could I see you privately for a few minutes?" asked Baugh, who himself could speak German, though his tongue did not indicate it.
"Howdy, Marse Tom!" called Uncle Ishmael. The general responded good-naturedly, and the carriage passed on, but, before turning into the branch road a few yards ahead, it came to a standstill, and the bright, decisive voice of the little girl floated back. "Uncle Ish I say, Uncle Ish, don't you want to ride?" "Dar, now!" cried Uncle Ishmael exultantly. "Ain't I tell you she wuz plum crazy?
But we have to go through Bloemendal to get there, not a very pretty village, and some distance from here. What do you say?" "Oh, I am ready for anything. For my part, I would rather steer direct for Leyden, but we'll do as the captain says hey, Jacob?" "Ya, dat ish goot," said Jacob, who felt decidedly more like taking a nap than ascending the Blue Stairs.
Even those humorists who mark epochs in the history of American provincial and political satire, like Seba Smith with his Major Jack Downing, Newell with his Papers of Orpheus C. Kerr, "Petroleum V. Nasby's" Letters from the Confedrit X Roads, Shillaber's Mrs. Partington all these have disappeared round the turn of the long road. "Hans Breitman gife a barty Vhere ish dot barty now?"
Hit seems like de 'oman nairy a man is laid claim ter ain' wuth claimin'. Ain' dat so, bro' Ish?" But Uncle Ish only grunted in retort, his head nodding drowsily. The tremulous tracery the wood-fire cast upon his face gave it an expression of dumb intensity which adumbrated all the pathos and the patience of his race.
I know Brince Etwart ven I see him. He ish von brince, but nod von shentleman. He svears ad hish mens." The near approach of the subject of this conversation prevented farther personal remarks.
Intoxicated with his finery and with the terrific peals of melody behind him, he pranced rather than walked up to the portals of Lincoln Lodge, and there, to the amazement and admiration alike of his clansmen and his expectant host, he burst forth into the following Celtic fragment, translated into English for the occasion by his assiduous friend from a hitherto undiscovered manuscript of Ossian: "I am ze chieftain, Nursed in ze mountains, Behold me, Mac ig ig ig ish!
"Are you talking of Mouchieu Ponsh?" asked the marine store-dealer. He was sitting smoking on the curb-post in the gateway, and now he rose to join in the conversation. "Yes, Daddy Remonencq." "All right," said Remonencq, "ash to moneysh, he ish better off than Mouchieu Monishtrol and the big men in the curioshity line.
Now there is no more pain in my head. The pains in my pody are all gone away. I put mine hand in my pocket, and there ish twenty tollars. So I shall shtay mit de temperance." Theobald Mathew was an Irish priest. He was born in 1790, in a great house in Tipperary, where his father was the agent of a rich lord.
"You ain't had no raisin' noways, en dar ain' been nobody ter brung you up 'cep'n yo' pa. Hit's de foolishness uv Miss Chris ez has overturnt de hull place." "She's a-settin' moughty prim now," continued Uncle Ish, his eyes on the little girl. "She des' es prim es ef she wuz chiny en glass, but I'se had my eye on 'er afo' dis.