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Updated: July 3, 2025
"I like Yankee words I learned them when young. Father and mother used them, and so did all the old folks to Slickville. There is both fun, sense, and expression in 'em too, and that is more than there is in Taffy's, Pat's, or Sawney's brogue either.
"Why," said he, "when I was a considerable of a grown up saplin of a boy to Slickville, I used to be a gunnin' for everlastinly amost in our hickory woods, a shootin' of squirrels with a rifle, and I got amazin' expart at it. I could take the head off of them chatterin' little imps, when I got a fair shot at 'em with a ball, at any reasonable distance, a'most in nine cases out of ten.
If I ain't mistaken, Jerry Boudrot, for so I have named the animal after him, will astonish the folks to Slickville; for of all the horses on this continent, to my mind, the real genuine Canadian is the best by all odds. "Ah! my friend," said Jerry, addressing the horse, "you shall soon be out of sight of land, like your master; but unlike him, I hope you shall never be lost at sea."
"Exactly," said I, "a ship ain't like a dog that can only answer to one name; and 'Sary Ann' is as good as the 'Black Hawk, every mite and morsel. There is a good deal of fun in altering sign-boards. I recollect wunst, when I was a boy, there was a firm to Slickville who had this sign over their shop: 'Gallop and More, Taylors.
"Why," said he, "when I was a considerable of a grown up saplin of a boy to Slickville, I used to be a gunnin' for everlastinly amost in our hickory woods, a shootin' of squirrels with a rifle, and I got amazin' expart at it. I could take the head off of them chatterin' little imps, when I got a fair shot at 'em with a ball, at any reasonable distance, a'most in nine cases out of ten.
"Don't know, your honour, never saw him before; he looks like a furriner, too." "Come, Mr. Slick," said I, "we are attracting too much attention here, let us go." "Cuss 'em," said he, "I'll attract more attention afore I've done yet, when Old Clay comes, and then I'll tell 'em who I am Sam Slick, from Slickville, Onion County, State of Connecticut, United States of America.
He reminded me of a poor fellow at Slickville, who had a family of twelve small children. His wife took a day, and died one fine morning, leaving another youngster to complete the baker's dozen, and next week that dear little innocent died too. He took on dreadfully about it. He boo-hooed right out, which is more than the politicioner did over his chloroformed bill.
"Oh! Mr Slick! do we part for ever?" "For ever!" sais I, trying to cheer her up; "for ever is a most thundering long word. No, not for ever, nor for long either. I expect you and the doctor will come and visit us to Slickville this fall;" and I laid an emphasis on that word "us," because it referred to what I had told her of Sophy. "Oh!" said she, "how kind that is!"
It was a wrinkle I picked up by accident, very early in life. We had to our farm to Slickville, an Irish servant, called Paddy Monaghan as hard-working a critter as ever I see, but none of the boys could get him to do a blessed thing for them.
Well when the colt was walked round after the race, there was an amasin crowd arter him, and several wanted to buy him; but, says father, how am I to get home without him, and what shall I do with that are waggon and harness so far as I be from Slickville.
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