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Castine told Pote that the Penobscot Indians were still at peace with the English and he believed would so continue for come time. Pote thought it not prudent to contradict him, though he was confident there were several Penobscot Indians in the party that had captured the Boston schooners.

Joyce, th' Irish pote that wrote th' pome about th' wa-ars whin me people raysisted Cromwell, while yours was carryin' turf on their backs to make fires for th' crool invader, as Finerty says whin th' sub-scriptions r-runs low.

Th' English pote does betther." "'Las' night at eight o'clock, he says, 'we found our slendher but inthrepid ar-rmy surrounded be wan hundhred thousan' Boers, he says. 'We attackted thim with gr-reat fury, he says, 'pursuin' thim up th' almost inaccessible mountain side an' capturin' eight guns which we didn't want so we give thim back to thim with siveral iv our own, he says.

"Pote Tate," he remarked, solemnly, "seein' that you haven't ever been brought in very close touch with deep-water sailors, and don't know what they've had to contend with, and how their dispositions get warped, and not knowin' my private opinion of men-grown potes, you've set here day by day and haven't realized the chances you've been takin'. Just one ordinary back-handed wallop, such as would only tickle a Portygee sailor, would mean wreaths and a harp for you!

Dis yer stewin' him up in pote wine is scand'lous. Can't taste nuffin' but de wine. But dat's tar'pin." I followed Chad's directions to the word, picking the terrapin as I would a crab and smothering the dainty bits in the hot sauce, until only two empty shells and a heap of little bones were left to tell the tale of my appetite. "Gwine to crawl ober de fence, was ye?"

I've held nawthin' back fr'm th' public, not even whin 'twas mar-rked private. I can say with th' pote that I done me jooty. But, oh, Chanse! don't iver aspire to my job. Be sicrety of war, if ye will; but niver be sicrety iv A war. Do not offer this letter to th' newspapers. Make thim take it. How's things goin' with ye, ol' pal? I hope to see ye at th' seaside.

And if any one thinks about the town bein' a hundred years old, it'll be next mornin' when he wakes up and feels that way himself. You and me is the losin' minority this time, Pote. I didn't want it at all, and you want it something diff'runt." He looked the gaunt figure up and down with a little of the sympathy that one feels for a fellow-victim. Then he gave out stamps for the letters.

I fear Smyrna is forgetting the main point of the celebration." "Don't you worry any about that, Pote," snapped the selectman. "No one round here is losin' sight of the main point.

"That may be," allowed the Cap'n, "but I shall be almighty glad when this centennial is over and I can get Pote Tate out of that corner, and put the broom and poker back there, and have something sensible to look at." Preparations for the great event went on smartly.

Yet while it was runnin' ye cudden't buy a copy iv th' Fireside Companyon an' f'r two cinchries it has proticted th' shelves iv more libries thin anny iv Milton's pomes, f'r Hogan tells me this author, who ye hardly iver hear mentioned in th' sthreet cars at th' prisint moment, was a pote as well as an author an' blind at that, an', what is more, held a prom'nent pollytickal job.