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Come, fork it over straight, and don't be muttering yer Dutch lingo!" "Vat zue drink mit me dis morning? Misser Dunz' te best fellow vat comez in my shop," said Drydez.
"Do you see that? and, bedad, ye'll drink it, and not be foolin', or I'd put the contents in your phiz," said he. Manuel took the glass, while the Dutchman stood chuckling over the very nice piece of fun, and the spice of Mr. Dunn's wit, as he called it. "Vat zu make him vat'e no vants too? You doz make me laugh so ven zu comes 'ere, I likes to kilt myself," said Drydez.
"Now, Drydez," said Dunn, "if ye want to do the clean thing, put a couple of brandy smashes-none of your d d Dutch cut-throat brandy-the best old stuff. South Carolina's a great State, and a man what can't be happy in Charleston, ought to be put through by daylight by the abolitionists."
They arose and ran through the front store, into the street, as if some evil spirit had descended among them. The Dutchman sprang for the dominoes, and quickly thrust them into a tin measure which he secreted under the counter. "Ah! Drydez!" said Dunn; "you vagabond, you; up to the old tricks again? Ye Dutchmen are worse than the divil! It's meself'll make ye put a five for that.
We must have another horn; it's just the stuff in our climate; the 'Old Jug's' close by, and they'll be makin' a parson of you when you get there. We've had a right jolly time; and ye can't wet your whistle when ye're fernint the gates." "I don't ask such favors, and will drink no more," said Manuel. "Fill her up, Drydez! fill her up! two more smashes-best brandy and no mistake.
And you, Drydez," said he, turning to the Dutchman, "I shall enter you upon the information docket, as soon as I go down into the city." "Zeu may tu vat zeu plas mit me-te mayor bees my friend, an' he knowz vot me ams. Yuz sees zel no bronty, no zin! Vot yu to mit de fine, ah?" *
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