One man's meat's another man's pison. See what
a double chin he's got. No beard on him, either, though a goatee would
have been becoming to such a round face. He hasn't got on a sword, and I
reckon he was no soldier; fit some when he was a boy, maybe, or went out
with the home-guard, but not a regular warrior. I ain't one myself, and
I think all the better of him for it.
"Ah, here we are! Look at that! Smith and Pocahontas! John Smith! Isn't
that gorgeous? See how she kneels over him, and sticks out her hands
while he lays on the ground and that big fellow with a club tries to
hammer him up. Talk about woman's love! There it is for you. Modocs, I
believe; anyway, some Indians out West there, somewheres; and the
publisher tells me that Captain Shackanasty, or whatever his name is,
there, was going to bang old Smith over the head with a log of wood, and
this here girl she was sweet on Smith, it appears, and she broke loose,
and jumped forward, and says to the man with a stick, 'Why don't you let
John alone? Me and him are going to marry, and if you kill him I'll
never speak to you as long as I live,' or words like them, and so the
man he give it up, and both of them hunted up a preacher and were
married and lived happy ever afterward.
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