132 THE YANKEE AND THE DUTCHMAN'S DOG. play any of his tricks, 'twas done in such an innocent manner, that his victim could do no better than take it all in good part. Now, it happened that one of Hiram's neighbors sold a farm to a tolerably green specimen of a Dutchman,-one of the real unintelligent, stupid sort. Von Vlom Schlopsch had a dog, as Dutchmen often have, who was less unintelligent than his master, and who had, since leaving his “faderland," become sufficiently civilized not only to appropriate the soil as common stock, but had progressed so far in the good work as to obtain his dinners from the neighbors' sheepfold on the same principle. When Hiram discovered this propensity in the canine department of the Dutchman's family, he walked over to his new neighbor's to enter complaint, which mission he accomplished in the most natural method in the world. "Wall, Von, your dog Blitzen's been killing my sheep." "Ya! dat ish bace-bad. He ish von goot tog: ya! dat ish bad!" 'Sartin, it's bad; and you'll have to stop 'im." "Ya! dat ish allas goot; but ich weis nicht." "What's that you say? he was nicked? Wall, now look here, old Crop 'im; cut his tail off close, chock up to his fellow! nickin's no use. trunk; that'll cure 'im." "Vat ish dat?" exclaimed the Dutchman, while a faint ray of intelligence crept over his features. "Ya! dat ish goot. Dat cure von sheep steal, eh?" "Sartin it will: he'll never touch sheep meat again in this world," said Hiram gravely. "Den come mit me. He von mity goot tog; all the way from Yarmany: I not take von five dollar-but come mit me, and hold his tail, eh? Ich chop him off.” "Sartin," said Hiram: "I'll hold his tail if you want me tew; but you must cut it up close." "Ya! dat ish right. Ich make 'im von goot tog. There, Blitzen, Blitzen! come right here, you von sheep steal rashcull: I chop your tail in von two pieces." The dog obeyed the summons; and the master tied his feet fore and aft, for fear of accident, and placing the tail in the Yankee's hand, requested him to lay it across a large block of wood. "Chock up," said Hiram, as he drew the butt of the tail close over the log. SONG OF MARION'S MEN. "Ya! dat ish right. Now, you von tief sheep, I learns you better luck," said Von Vlom Schlopsch, as he raised the axe. It descended; and as it did so, Hiram, with characteristic presence of mind, gave a sudden jerk, and brought Blitzen's neck over the log; and the head rolled over the other side. "Wall, I swow!" said Hiram with apparent astonishment, as he dropped the headless trunk of the dog; "that was a leetle too close." "Mine cootness!" exclaimed the Dutchman, "you shust cut 'im off de wrong end!" CHOCK UP!" SONG OF MARION'S MEN. W. C. BRYANT. FWS UR band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told. Our tent the cypress-tree; We know its walls of thorny vines, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. Woe to the English soldiery And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout And woodland flowers are gathered With merry songs we mock the wind Well knows the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads, The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. 133 O is very glad to see his old friend; and says, when they are left alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Sangsby should come so far out of his way on accounts of sich as him. Mr. Sangbsy, touched by the spectacle before him, immediately lays upon the table half-a-crown; that magic balsam of his for all kinds of wounds. "And how do you find yourself, my poor lad?" inquired the stationer, with his cough of sympathy. "I'm in luck, Mr. Sangsby, I am," returns Jo, "and don't want for nothink. I'm more cumfbler nor you can't think, Mr. Sangsby. I'm wery sorry that I done it, but I didn't go fur to do it, sir." The stationer softly lays down another half-crown, and asks him what it is that he is sorry for having done. "Mr. Sangsby," says Jo, "I went and giv a illness to the lady as wos and yet as warn't the t'other lady, and none of 'em never says nothink to me for having done it, on accounts of their being so good and my having been s' unfortnet. The lady come herself and see me yes'day, and she ses, 'Ah Jo!' she ses. 'We thought we'd lost you, Jo!' she ses. And she sits down a smilin so quiet, and don't pass a word nor yit a look upon me for having done it, she don't, and I turns agin the wall, I doos, Mr. Sangsby. And Mr. Jarnders, I see him a forced to turn away his own self. And Mr. Woodcot, he come fur to give me somethink for to ease me, wot he's allus a doin on day and night, and wen he comes a bendin over me and a speakin up so bold, I see his tears a fallin, Mr. Sangsby." |