But the company did not get the benefit of Mr. Albert's views on the subject of religion, for at that moment entered Mr. Smith Westcott. "How do, Katy? Lookin' solemn, eh? How do, Brother Albert? Mrs. Ferret, how do? Ho! ho! Dave, is this you? I congratulate you on your escape from the savages. Scalp all sound, eh? Didn' lose your back-hair? By George! he! he! he!" And he began to show symptoms of dancing, as he sang: "John Brown, he had a little Injun; John Brown, he had a little Injun; Dave Sawney had a little Injun; One little Injun gal! "Yah! yah! Well, well, Mr. Shawnee, glad to see you back." "Looky hyer. Mister Wes'cott," said Dave, growing red, "you're a-makin' a little too free." "Oh! the Shawnee chief shouldn' git mad. He! he! by George! wouldn' git mad fer ten thousand dollars. I wouldn', by George! you know! he! he! Ef I was worth ten thousand dollars live weight, bide and tallow throw'd in, I would--" "See here, mister," said Dave, rising, "maybe, you'd like to walk out to some retired place, and hev your hide thrashed tell 'twouldn' hold shucks? Eh?" "I beg pardon," said Westcott, a little frightened, "didn' mean no harm, you know, Mr. Sawney. All's fair in war, especially when it's a war for the fair. Sort of warfare, you know. By George! he! he! Shake hands, let's be friends, Dave. Don' mind my joking--nobody minds me. I'm the privileged infant, you know, he! he! A'n't I, Mr. Charlton?" "You're infant enough, I'm sure," said Albert, "and whether you are privileged or not, you certainly take liberties that almost any other man would get knocked down for." "Oh! well, don't let's be cross. Spoils our faces and voices, Mr. Charlton, to be cross. For my part, I'm the laughin' philosopher--the giggling philosopher, by George! he! he! Come Katy, let's walk." Katy was glad enough to get her lover away fro her brother. She hated quarreling, and didn't see why people couldn't be peaceable. And so she took Mr. Westcott's arm, and they walked out, that gentleman stopping to strike a match and light his cigar at the door, and calling back, "Dood by, all, dood by! Adieu, Monsieur Sawney, _au revoir_!" Before he had passed out of the gate he was singing lustily: "Ten little, nine little, eight little Injun; Seven little, six little, five little Injun; Four, little, three little, two little Injun; One little Injun girl! "He! he! By George! Best joke, for the time of the year, I ever heard." "I think," said Mrs. Ferret, after Katy and her lover had gone--she spoke rapidly by jerks, with dashes between--"I think, Mr. Sawney--that you are worthy of commendation--I do, indeed--for your praiseworthy stand--against Romanism. I don't know what will become of our liberties--if the priests ever get control--of this country."