"You told me that you had no fine slack, and you have
stacks of it."
"What is fine slack?" said I, very pettishly.
"The stuff that's wound upon these 'ere pieces of wood," pouncing as
she spoke upon one of my most serviceable spools.
"I cannot give you that; I want it myself."
"I didn't ask you to give it. I only wants to borrow it till father
goes to the creek."
"I wish he would make haste, then, as I want a number of things
which you have borrowed of me, and which I cannot longer do
without."
She gave me a knowing look, and carried off my spool in triumph.
I happened to mention the manner in which I was constantly annoyed
by these people, to a worthy English farmer who resided near us;
and he fell a-laughing, and told me that I did not know the Canadian
Yankees as well as he did, or I should not be troubled with them long.
"The best way," says he, "to get rid of them, is to ask them sharply
what they want; and if they give you no satisfactory answer, order
them to leave the house; but I believe I can put you in a better way
still. Buy some small article of them, and pay them a trifle over
the price, and tell them to bring the change. I will lay my life
upon it that it will be long before they trouble you again."
I was impatient to test the efficacy of his scheme That very
afternoon Miss Satan brought me a plate of butter for sale.
The price was three and ninepence; twice the sum, by-the-bye,
that it was worth.
