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Updated: June 4, 2025
"That 'ere chap's a greelye, I strongly 'spect," whispered one, a regular down-east Yankee. "A what?" asked his companion. "Why, a greelye one o' them 'ere Mexikin robbers." "Arrah, now! did yez see the rid sash?" inquired an Irishman. "Thim's captin's," suggested the Yankee. "He's a captin or a kurnel; I'll bet high on that." "What did he say, Nath, as he was running off?"
"Well, I ain't goin' ter fight yous about it, an' I'm not worryin' a mighty lot about you, Major, 'cause your little bit o' country's ready made for you. But Captin's different. We won't 'ave no fight about cash, Captin; but that last year's calf of the ol' keow's goin' ter be a pretty decent steer, an' when you gets yer farm 'e's goin' on it as yer first bit o' stock.
"Lord love your 'art," said the boarding-master, "I wouldn't 'urt you. I'm on'y acting under your orders now; yours and the captin's. It ain't in my reg'lar way o' business at all, but I'm so good-natured I can't say 'no." "Can't say 'no' to five pounds, you mean," retorted Mr. Wilks, who by no means relished these remarks.
"Why, them ducks to be sure, see how they come sailin' up to us, as if they knowed all about the captin's order no jumpin' or friskin' now, but all of a heap like." "Yes, but I say, what's that black looking thing beyond the ducks?" asked one who had not hitherto spoken, pointing his finger. "Where, where, Weston?" exclaimed one or two voices, and the speakers looked in the direction indicated.
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