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Updated: May 22, 2025
Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social throng, he was wont to say, "Ever heard that joke I made about Susan?" and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends. Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking it possible that the time would come when they would require them.
"No," said the Pike man; "none of your Yankee truck for me." "I guess you don't know what's good," said Mr. Bickford. "What's your favorite vittles?" "Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky." "Well," said Joshua, "it depends on the way a feller is brung up. I go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie that's goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?" "Yes." "Like it?"
He had fancied that it would sound well to put "Secretary of the Clionian Society" after his name, and would give him increased consequence at home. As to the tin-pedler, it would have relieved his mind to hear that Mr. Bickford had been carried off suddenly by an apoplectic fit, and notwithstanding the tie of kindred, he would not have taken the trouble to put on mourning in his honor.
"Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain't nary red." "I'll stand by you, Mr. Bickford." "You're a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do." "It isn't so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be taken in by Hogan." "You've cut your eye-teeth since then." "I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in again."
Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe's coolness. Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have feared him more.
Bickford is very proud. She only wears it on great occasions, and then is particular to mention that it was presented to her by Herbert Mason, of the great New York firm of Godfrey & Mason, who was once Abner Holden's bound boy. Nor was Herbert forgetful of his good friends, the Kents.
H. M. S. Pegasus calling at Labuan soon afterwards, I seized the opportunity to request Captain BICKFORD to make a little demonstration in Brunai, which was not often visited by a man-of-war, with the double object of restoring confidence to the British subjects there and the traders generally and of exacting a public apology for the disgraceful conduct of the Government in allowing the Muruts to attack the Limbang people while we were up that river.
"Well," said Abner, "I'll do it. I can't abide folks that's stuck up. I'd rather own a cousin like you." "Thank you, Mr. Bickford." "When do you want me to come round?" "How long do you stay in town?" "Well, I expect to stop overnight at the tavern; I can't get through in one day." "Then come round to the Academy to-morrow morning, about half-past eight.
"Let's see: This here is the cord that I pull to signal the horses to start, is it?" "No, no!" expostulated President Kitchen, "you pull that bell-cord to call them back if the field isn't bunched all right at the wire when they score down for the word. If all the horses are in position and are all leveled, you shout 'Go! and start your watch." "Precisely," said Mr. Bickford.
Their plan was to divide into small groups and attack each house at sunrise, the next morning. A single shot was to be the signal. On the following day by some mistake the shot was given before the Indians were ready. "What does that mean?" exclaimed Thomas Bickford, who from his home had heard the crack of a gun far up the river on that early morning of July 18th.
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