There were, he said, in Virginia, two Dutchmen, brothers, George and Jake Fulwiler. They were both well to do in the world, and each owned a grist mill. There was another Dutchman near by, by the name of Henry Snyder. He was a mono-maniac, but a harmless man, occasionally thinking himself to be God. He built a throne, and would often sit upon it, pronouncing judgment upon others, and also upon himself. He would send the culprits to heaven or to hell, as his humor prompted. One day he had a little difficulty with the two Fulwilers. He took his seat upon his throne, and in imagination summoning the culprits before him, thus addressed them: "Shorge Fulwiler, stand up. What hash you been dain in dis lower world?" "Ah! Lort, ich does not know." "Well, Shorge Fulwiler, hasn't you got a mill?" "Yes, Lort, ich hash." "Well, Shorge Fulwiler, didn't you never take too much toll?" "Yes, Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones wash dull, ich take leetle too much toll." "Well, den, Shorge Fulwiler, you must go to der left mid der goats." "Well, Shake Fulwiler, now you stand up. What hash you been doin in dis lower world?" "Ah! Lort, ich does not know." "Well, Shake Fulwiler, hasn't you got a mill?" "Yes, Lort, ich hash." "Well, Shake Fulwiler hasn't you never taken too much toll?" "Yes Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones wash dull, ich take leetle too much toll." "Well, den, Shake Fuhviler, you must go to der left mid der goats." "Now ich try menself. Henry Snyder, Henry Snyder, stand up. What hash you bin dain in die lower world?" "Ah, Lort, ich does not know." "Well, Henry Snyder, hasn't you got a mill?" "Yes, Lort, ich hash." "Well, Henry Snyder, didn't you never take too much toll?" "Yes, Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones wash dull, ich hash taken leetle too much toll." "But, Henry Snyder, vat did you do mid der toll?" "Ah, Lort, ich gives it to der poor." The judge paused for a moment, and then said, "Well, Henry Snyder, you must go to der right mid der sheep. But it is a tight squeeze." Another specimen of his more sober forensic eloquence is to be found in the following speech. There was a bill before the house for the creation of a new county, and there was a dispute about the boundary-line. The author of the bill wished to run the line in a direction which would manifestly promote his own interest. Crockett arose and said: "Mr. Speaker: Do you know what that man's bill reminds me of? Well, I s'pose you don't, so I'll tell you. Well, Mr. Speaker, when I first came to this country a blacksmith was a rare thing. But there happened to be one in my neighborhood. He had no striker; and whenever one of the neighbors wanted any work done, he had to go over and strike until his work was finished. These were hard times, Mr. Speaker, but we had to do the best we could.