“I no joke. I nevare joke; _je n’entends pas la raillerie_, Sare, _voulez-vous_ have de kindness to give me back de money vot I pay!” “Certainly not.” “Den vill you be so good as to take de East River off de top of my lot?” “That’s your business, sir, not mine.” “Den I make von _mauvaise affaire_—von gran mistake!” “I hope not. I don’t think you have thrown your money away in the _land_.” “No, sare; but I tro it avay in de _vatare!_” “That’s not my fault.” “Yes, sare, but it is your fault. You’re von ver gran rascal to swindle me out of _de l’argent_.” “Hello, old Poopoo, you grow personal; and if you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head, you must go out of my counting-room.” “Vare shall I go to, eh?” “To the devil, for aught I care, you foolish old Frenchman!” said the auctioneer, waxing warm. “But, sare, I vill not go to de devil to oblige you!” replied the Frenchman, waxing warmer. “You sheat me out of all de dollar vot I make in Shatham Street; but I vill not go to de devil for all dat. I vish you may go to de devil yourself you dem yankee-doo-dell, and I vill go and drown myself, _tout de suite_, right avay.” “You couldn’t make a better use of your water privileges, old boy!” “Ah, _miséricorde_! Ah, _mon dieu, je suis abîmé_. I am ruin! I am done up! I am break all into ten sousan leetle pieces! I am von lame duck, and I shall vaddle across de gran ocean for Paris, vish is de only valuarble vatare privalege dat is left me _à present_!” Poor Poopoo was as good as his word. He sailed in the next packet, and arrived in Paris almost as penniless as the day he left it. Should any one feel disposed to doubt the veritable circumstances here recorded, let him cross the East River to the Wallabout, and farmer J—— will _row him out_ to the very place where the poor Frenchman’s lots still remain _under water_. FOOTNOTES: [10] From _The Little Frenchman and His Water Lots, with Other Sketches of the Times_ (1839), by George Pope Morris. THE ANGEL OF THE ODD[11] BY EDGAR ALLAN POE (1809–1849)