Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1854-12-06
Mistellnnruua.
lFrom the Albany Register.l
a "Right-Eandec" Badly Invested

From the Albany Register.
4 "Right-Eandee' Badly Invested. 7T
sThank you, don't care If do,'' said fast
young man, with large pressed bricl, in his
hat, as he surged up to the Indian that stands
| in front of Van Cott' s tobacco store, in Broad
way, with . bunch of cast-iron cigars, in his
hand. 'Fll take one, smoke sometimes, and
he reached out to take the profered weed, but
the Indian wouldn't give it M; he hung on to
the cigars like grim Death. Look here, old
copperhead,' said the fast young man. snone
of that; no tricks on travellers, or else there'I
be nuss, you and I'll fall out; somebody'n
get punch in the head The Indian, said ne
yer a word, but held on to the cast-iron cigars.
He was calm, dignified, unmoved, as an Indian
should be, looking his assailart straight in the
face, and no muscle moving single hair. Yes,
yesl look at me, old featherhead! I'm one of
'em;I m around, Pm fullweight ,potato measure,
heaped,' and he placed himself in a position,
threw back his coat, and squared for fight.
All the time the Indian said never word,
looked without the least alarm, unwinkingly
straight into the face of the fast young man,
still holding out the cigars in might friendly
sort of way. The young man was plucky,
and just in condition to resent any sort ofin-
suit or no sort Of insult at all. He was ready
to 'go in, but the calmness and imperturabil-
ty of the Indian rather cowed him, and he was
disposed to reason the matter. 'I'll take one,'
said he, certainly. l said SO before. I freeze
to good cigar; I'm one of the smokers. Ny
father was one Of the smokers, he was; one of
the old sort, and Pm edition number two, re-
vised and corrected with notes, authors hand
writing outhe title page and copyright secured.
Yes, I'll take one. All right, old redskin,I III
take one But the Indian said not word, all
the time looking straight in the face of the fast
young man, and holding to the cigars.
Look here, old gimlet-eye, Pm getting riled,
my backs coming up, and you and III have
turn; smell Of that, old copperhead;' and he
thrust his fist under the nose OF the eaSt-iron
Indian, who said not a word, moved not anus
Gle, nut kept right on looking straight into the
face of the fast young man, as If not caring
Ii for his threats or taking in at all the oder
of his fist. Very WE'LL said the fast young
man, I'm agreeablc-I'm around; look to your
ugly mug, old pumpkin head;' and he let 60
right-hander square against the nose of the
cast-ron Indian, who never moved an inch nor
stirred muscle-looking with calm unchang-
ed dignity, as before, in the face of his enemy.
sHallo,' cried the fast young man, in utter
bewilderment, as he reeled back halfway
across the sidewalk, with the blood dripping
from his skinned lnuckles; sHalloI-here's
go--here's an eye-opener-here' thing to
hunt for round corner. I'm satisfied old
iron-face, / am. Enough said between gen
tleman. Just then he caught sight of the
tomahawk and scalping knife in the belt of
the savage, and his hair began to rise. The
Indian seemed to be making up his mind to
use them. Hold ONT cried the fast young
man, az he lodged round the awning post;
Hold on-none Of that apologize squat
i knock under. Hold on, say he contin-
ued, as the Indian seemed to scowl with pc
culiar ferceness, Hold on Very well; I'm
off-I've business down the street--people are
hum waiting for me-can't stay = and he boil
ted like a quarter horse down Broadway, and
his cry of Hold on = died away as he vanish
ed beyond the lamp-lights up Columbia street.