Dunn, after driving the mulatto man from the door and upbraiding the
Dutchman for his cowardice, returned to the table, and patting
Manuel upon the back, drank the balance of his smash, saying, "Come,
me good fellow, we must do the thing up brown, now; we've got the
Dutchman nailed on his own hook. We must have another horn; it's
just the stuff in our climate; the 'Old Jug's' close by, and they'll
be makin' a parson of you when you get there. We've had a right
jolly time; and ye can't wet your whistle when ye're fernint the
gates."
"I don't ask such favors, and will drink no more," said Manuel.
"Fill her up, Drydez! fill her up! two more smashes-best brandy and
no mistake. You must drink another, my old chuck-we'll bring the
pious notions out o' ye in Charleston," said Dunn, turning around to
Manuel.
The Dutchman filled the glasses, and Dunn, laying his big hickory
stick upon the counter, took one in each hand, and going directly to
Manuel, "There, take it, and drink her off-no humbugging; yer mother
niver gave such milk as that," said he.
"Excuse me, sir; I positively will not!" said Manuel, and no sooner
had he lisped the words, than Dunn threw the whole contents in his
face. Enraged at such outrageous conduct, the poor fellow could
stand it no longer, and fetched him a blow that levelled him upon
the floor.
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