The comical miscreant no sooner made his appearance than, like
Liston, when coming on the stage, he was greeted with a general roar of
laughter.
"So," said he, "you have a conjurer above. But wait a while; by the
powdhers o' delf Rantin' Rody's the boy will try his mettle. If he can
look farther than his nose, I'm the lad will find it out. If he doesn't
say I'll be hanged, he knows nothing about his business. I have myself
half-a-dozen hangmen engaged to let me down aisy; it's a death I've a
great fancy for, and, plaise God, I'm workin' honestly to desarve it.
Which of you has a cow to steal? for, by the sweets o' rosin, I'm low in
cash, and want a thrifle to support nather; for nather, my boys, must be
supported, and it was never my intintion to die for want o' my vittles;
aitin' and drinkin' is not very pleasant to most people, I know, but I
was born wid a fancy for both."
"Rantin' Rody, in airnest, will you go up and have your fortune tould?"
"But wait," he proceeded; "wait, I say,--wait,--I have it." And as he
said so he went at the top of his speed down the street, and disappeared
in Sol Donnel's cabin.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337