Handy Andy, Volume One | Page 6

two of the lights
with the projected cork, which, performing its parabola the length of
the room, struck the squire himself in the eye at the foot of the table:
while the hostess at the head had a cold bath down her back. Andy,
when he saw the soda-water jumping out of the bottle, held it from him
at arm's length; every fizz it made, exclaiming, "Ow!--ow!--ow!" and,
at last, when the bottle was empty, he roared out, "Oh, Lord!--it's all

gone!"
Great was the commotion;--few could resist laughter except the ladies,
who all looked at their gowns, not liking the mixture of satin and
soda-water. The extinguished candles were relighted--the squire got his
eye open again--and the next time he perceived the butler sufficiently
near to speak to him, he said in a low and hurried tone of deep anger,
while he knit his brow, "Send that fellow out of the room!" but, within
the same instant, resumed his former smile, that beamed on all around
as if nothing had happened.
Andy was expelled the salle à manger in disgrace, and for days kept
out of the master's and mistress' way: in the meantime the butler made a
good story of the thing in the servants' hall; and, when he held up
Andy's ignorance to ridicule, by telling how he asked for "soap and
water," Andy was given the name of "Suds," and was called by no
other for months after.
But, though Andy's functions in the interior were suspended, his
services in out-of-door affairs were occasionally put in requisition. But
here his evil genius still haunted him, and he put his foot in a piece of
business his master sent him upon one day, which was so simple as to
defy almost the chance of Andy making any mistake about it; but Andy
was very ingenious in his own particular line.
"Ride into the town and see if there's a letter for me," said the squire
one day to our hero.
"Yes, sir."
"You know where to go?"
"To the town, sir."
"But do you know where to go in the town?"
"No, sir."

"And why don't you ask, you stupid thief?"
"Sure I'd find out, sir."
"Didn't I often tell you to ask what you're to do, when you don't know?"
"Yes, sir."
"And why don't you?"
"I don't like to be throublesome, sir."
"Confound you!" said the squire; though he could not help laughing at
Andy's excuse for remaining in ignorance.
"Well," continued he, "go to the post-office. You know the post-office,
I suppose?"
"Yes, sir, where they sell gunpowder."
"You're right for once," said the squire; for his Majesty's postmaster
was the person who had the privilege of dealing in the aforesaid
combustible. "Go then to the post-office, and ask for a letter for me.
Remember--not gunpowder, but a letter."
"Yis, sir," said Andy, who got astride of his hack, and trotted away to
the post-office. On arriving at the shop of the postmaster (for that
person carried on a brisk trade in groceries, gimlets, broadcloth, and
linen-drapery,) Andy presented himself at the counter, and said, "I want
a letther, sir, if you plaze."
"Who do you want it for?" said the postmaster, in a tone which Andy
considered an aggression upon the sacredness of private life: so Andy
thought the coolest contempt he could throw upon the prying
impertinence of the postmaster was to repeat his question.
"I want a letther, sir, if you plaze."
"And who do you want it for?" repeated the postmaster.

"What's that to you?" said Andy.
The postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell
what letter to give him unless he told him the direction.
"The directions I got was to get a letther here--that's the directions."
"Who gave you those directions?"
"The masther."
"And who's your master?"
"What consarn is that o' yours?"
"Why, you stupid rascal! if you don't tell me his name, how can I give
you a letter?"
"You could give it if you liked: but you're fond of axin' impident
questions, bekase you think I'm simple."
"Go along out o' this! Your master must be as great a goose as yourself,
to send such a messenger."
"Bad luck to your impidence," said Andy; "is it Squire Egan you dar to
say goose to?"
"Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then?"
"Yes, have you anything to say agin it?"
"Only that I never saw you before."
"Faith, then you'll never see me agin if I have my own consint."
"I won't give you any letter for the squire, unless I know you're his
servant. Is there any one in the town knows you?"
"Plenty," said Andy, "it's not every one is as ignorant as you."

Just at this moment a person to whom Andy was known