"Mr. Slick," sez he, a looking as parpendicular as if he'd eat tenpenny nails for breakfast, and topped off with a young crowbar, "Mr. Slick, I'm happy to see you in York agin, but what on arth was the reason that you left us in the lurch about them letters from Washington?" "Did you ever have a touch of humsickness?" sez I, a straightening up and putting my hands in my pockets, till the tip eend of my nose eenamost come on a level with his'n. "I ruther think I have," sez he, a hitching up his shoulders. "And the ager, too?" sez I. "Don't mention it," sez he, jest a shaking the leastest mite all over with thinking about it. "Awful sort of a chilly animal, that ager, ain't it?" sez I. "Dreadful," sez he. "Didn't it seem as if you'd have to take up all your bones for salt and battery on one another, afore they'd keep still?" sez I. "A most," sez he, a larfing. "Wal," sez I, "I didn't ketch the fever and ager." "What did you ketch, then?" sez he, sort of impatient. "Oh, I felt kinder as if I should git it if I didn't go hum and doctor," sez I. "But that wasn't quite reason enough for your goin off so," sez he. "Wasn't it?" sez I, "but that wasn't all; I got a letter from par, and he wrote that marm was ailing, and that he was getting down in the mouth, and didn't feel very smart himself, and there wasn't nobody to weed the onions--only Judy White--and she seemed sort of molancholy, and so"---- "Oh, I understand," sez he, a cutting me off short in what I was going to say. I guess he took notice how the blood biled up in my face, for he went right to talking about something else as nat'ral as could be. So arter confabulating a spell about things in general, the Editor of the Express he begun to poke around among the newspapers agin, and to hitch around as if he'd jest as lief I wasn't there. I pulled out my mittens, for it was cold enough to snap a feller's ears off, early as it was. So I put 'em on sort of deliberate, and begun to smooth up the red and blue fringe on the top, jest as if I wanted to go, and yet didn't feel in much of a hurry. By-am-by I got up, and sez I, "Wal, good-day--I s'pose it's about time for me to be a jogging." "Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Slick," sez he, a fumbling over the newspapers all the time. Think sez I, "If you have any notion to print my letters, it's about time to come up to the scratch tu once;" but he kept on a reading, and sez I, a sliding back'ards towards the door,--