Mr.Longfellow smiles as sweet as pie and says-- "'Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught,' -- and blamed if he didn't down with _another_ right bower! Emerson claps his hand on his bowie, Longfellow claps his on his revolver, and I went under a bunk.

There was going to be trouble; but that monstrous Holmes rose up, wobbling his double chins, and says he, 'Order, gentlemen; the first man that draws, I'll lay down on him and smother him!' All quiet on the Potomac, you bet! "They were pretty how-come-you-so, by now, and they begun to blow.
Emerson says, 'The nobbiest thing I ever wrote was Barbara Frietchie.' Says Longfellow, 'It don't begin with my Biglow Papers.' Says Holmes, 'My Thanatopsis lays over 'em both.' They mighty near ended in a fight.

Then they wished they had some more company--and Mr.Emerson pointed to me and says-- "'Is yonder squalid peasant all That this proud nursery could breed ?' He was a-whetting his bowie on his boot--so I let it pass.

Well, sir, next they took it into their heads that they would like some music; so they made me stand up and sing 'When Johnny Comes Marching Home' till I dropped--at thirteen minutes past four this morning.

That's what I've been through, my friend.