ing, up cum that everlastin' hypocrite, and says he: "Mr. Hitchcock, my old roan is ruined!' "Du tell,' says I. "She is cut all to pieces,' says he; do you know whether she was in your stable, Mr. Hitchcock, last night?' Wal, mister, with this I let out: "Do I know it ?'-(the Yankee here, in illustration, made a sudden advance upon the dandy, who made way for him unconsciously, as it were)— 'Do I know it? you no-souled, shad-bellied, squashheaded, old night-owl you!-you hay-hookin', corn-cribbin', fodder-fudgin', cent-shavin', whitlin'of-nuthin' you -Kate kicks like a mere dumb beast, but I've reduced the thing to a science !' " The Yankee had not ceased to advance, or the dandy, in his astonishment, to retreat; and now, the motion of the latter being accelerated by an apparent demonstration on the part of the former to "suit the action to the word," he found himself in the "social hall," tumbling backwards over a pile of baggage, and tearing the knees of his pants as he scrambled up, a perfect scream of laughter stunning him from all sides. The defeat was total: a few moments afterwards he was dragging his own trunk ashore, while Mr. Hitchcock finished his story on the boiler deck. XIV. WHY MR. SELLUM DISPOSED OF THE HORSE. A MATTER OF FACT STORY. MR. SELLUM is a horse-jockey; that is, when he is not more profitably employed, he is not ashamed, so he says, to "try his fort'n in that very respectable callin'." He dropped in at Bailey's bazaar a few weeks since; and very soon after Sellum arrived, a superb-looking charger, mounted by a graceful rider, pranced up the court, and entered the arena, to be sold at public vendue. "There he is, gents," said the auctioneer; "there he is a splendid beast! Look at him, and judge for yourselves. There's an ear, a forearm, a nostril, an eye for you! That animal, gentlemen, was 'knocked down' to a gentleman under the hammer, less than three months ago, for two hundred and eighty dollars. But I am authorized to-day to sell that horse-let him bring more or less. He's a beauty; fine figure, splendid saddle-beast, natural gait fourteen miles to the hour, trots a mile in 2′ 42′′; and altogether he's a great horse," which last remark no one could doubt, for he weighed eleven hundred pounds. "How much am I offered for that beautiful beast ?" continued the auctioneer. "Move him round the ring once, John. That's it; elegant motion.” There the horse stopped short, and refused to budge an inch, though John buried the rowels to the shoulder in his ribs. "Give me a bid, gentlemen, if you please. The horse must be sold." Twenty dollars," was heard from one corner of the room. "Twenty dollars!" screamed the auctioneer, with a seemingly ironical laugh. "I'm offered the stupendous sum of twenty dollars, gentlemen, for that horse. Are there no sausage-makers in this congregation? I'm offered only twenty dollars! But, as I said before, the horse is here to be sold, so I shall accept the bid. Twenty dollars. I'm offered twenty dollars-twenty-twenty-give me thirty ? Twenty dollars twenty - did I hear thirty? Twenty dollars-give five? Twenty dollars—say one? Shall I have twenty-one? If that's the best bid, down he must go, gentlemen! Twenty dollars! going! Twenty, only. Who's the fortunate buyer ?" "Sellum, John Sellum," said our friend. "John Sellum, twenty dollars," says the auctioneer; "you've got a horse as is a horse, Mr. Sellum." And the fortunate John bore his magnificent charger away in triumph. A few days subse quently, an old acquaintance met John in the cars, aud inquired about his purchase. "Got that horse yet, John ?" "No, I sold him." "So soon-what for ?" "Wal, nothin' in particular; but I didn't fancy the critter, all things considered." "He was sound; wasn't he?" "Wall, I reckon he wasn't; that is to say, I cal k'late he wasn't. Show'd very good pluck, till I |