He pauses, as if contemplating his next move.
The very amiable and gentlemanly man-vender thinks it time he
interposed for the purpose of reconciling matters. "Gentlemen!
gentlemen! respect me, if you do not respect yourselves. My office
is no place for such disgraceful broils as these; you must go
elsewhere." The modest gentleman, whose very distinguished family
connexions have done much to promote his interests, would have it
particularly understood that his office is an important place, used
only for the very distinguished business of selling men, women, and
little children. But Romescos is not so easily satisfied. He pushes
the amiable gentleman aside, calls Mr. Lawrence M'Fadden a tyrant
what kills niggers by the detestably mean process of starving them
to death. "A pretty feller he is to talk about nigger killin! And
just think what our state has come to when such fellers as him can
make votes for the next election!" says Romescos, addressing himself
to the vender. "The Irish influence is fast destroying the political
morality of the country."
Turning to Mr. M'Fadden, who seems preparing for a display of his
combativeness, he adds, "Ye see, Mack, ye will lie, and lie crooked
too! and ye will steal, and steal dishonourably; and I can lick a
dozen on ye quicker nor chain lightnin? I can send the hol batch on
ye-rubbish as it is-to take supper t'other side of sundown." To be
equal with his adversary, Romescos is evidently preparing himself
for the reception of something more than words.
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