Tecumseh: A Drama | Page 9

fer honesty--I say "set 'em up" every time, and
then
rob 'em. Thet's the way to clar them out o' the
kentry. Whiskey's
better 'n gunpowder, end costs less
than fightin' 'em in the long run.
Enter CITIZEN BLOAT.
TWANG. Thet's so! Hello, Major, what's up? You look
kind o' riled
to-day.
BLOAT. Wall, Jedge, I dew feel right mad--have you
heerd the noos?
TWANG. No! has old Sledge bust you at the keerds again?
BLOAT. Old Sledge be darned! I had jest clar'd him out
o'
continentals--fifty to the shillin'--at his own
game, when in ript
Roudi--the Eyetalian that knifed the
Muskoe Injun for peekin'
through his bar-room winder
last spring--jest down from Fort Knox.
You know the
chap, General; you was on his jury.
SLAUGH. I reckon I dew. The Court was agin him, but we
acquitted
him afore the Chief-Justice finished his
charge, and gave him a vote
o' thanks to boot. There's
a heap o' furriners creepin' inter these
parts--poor
downtrodden cusses from Europe--end, ef they're all

like Roudi, they'll dew--a'most as hendy wi' the knife
as our own
people. But what's up?
BLOAT. Roudi saw Barron at Fort Knox, restin' thar on
his way back
from the Prophet's Town, end he sez thet
red assassin Tecumseh's
a-cumin' down wi' four hundred
o' his painted devils to convarse wi'
our Guvner.
They're all armed, he sez, end will be here afore midday.

SLAUGH. Wall! our Guvner notified him to come--he's
only gettin'
what he axed for. There'll be a deal o'
loose har flitterin' about the
streets afore night, I
reckon. Harrison's a heap too soft wi' them red

roosters; he h'aint got cheek enough.
GERKIN. I've heerd say the Guvner, end the Chief
Justice tew, thinks
a sight o' this tearin' red devil.
They say he's a great man. They say,
tew, thet our
treaty Injuns air badly used--thet they shouldn't be

meddled wi' on their resarves, end should hev skoolin'.
BLOAT. Skoolin'! That gits me! Dogoned ef I wouldn't
larn them jest
one thing--what them regler officers up
to the Fort larns their
dogs--"to drap to shot," only
in a different kind o' way like; end, es
fer their
resarves, I say, give our farmers a chance--let them
locate!
TWANG. Thet's so, Major! What arthly use air they--
plouterin'
about their little bits o' fields, wi' their
little bits o' cabins, end livin'
half the time on mushrats
? I say, let them move out, end give reliable

citizens a chance.
SLAUGH. Wall, I reckon our Guvner's kind's about played
out. They
call themselves the old stock--the clean pea
--the rale gentlemen o'
the Revolooshun. But, gentlemen,
ain't we the Revolooshun? Jest
wait till the live
citizens o' these United States end Territories gits a

chance, end we'll show them gentry what a free people,
wi' our
institooshuns, kin do. There'll be no
more talk o' skoolin fer Injuns,
you bet! I'd give them
Kernel Crunch's billet.
GERKIN. What was thet, General?
SLAUGH. Why, they say he killed a hull family o'
redskins, and
stuck 'em up as scar' crows in his wheat
fields. Gentlemen, there's
nothin' like original idees!
TWANG. Thet war an original idee! The Kernel orter hev
tuk out a

patent. I think I've heerd o' Crunch. Wam't
he wi' Kernel Crawford, o'
the melish', at one time?
SLAUGH Whar?
TWANG. Why over to the Muskingum. You've heerd o' them

Delaware Moravians over to the Muskingum, surely?
SLAUGH. Oh, them convarted chaps! but I a'most forgit
the
carcumstance.
TWANG. Wall, them red devils had a nice resarve thar--
as yieldin' a
bit o' sile as one could strike this side
o' the Alleghanies. They was all
convarted by the
Moravians, end pertended to be as quiet and
peaceable
as the Shakers hereabout But Kernel Crawford--who knew

good sile when he sot his eyes on it--diskivered thet
them prayin'
chaps had helped a war-party from the
North, wi' provisions--or thort
they did, which was the
same thing. So--one fine Sunday--he
surrounds their
church wi' his melish'--when the Injuns was all
aprayin'
--end walks in himself, jest for a minute or
two, end prays
a bit so as not to skeer them tew soon,
end then walks out, end locks
the door. The Kernel then
cutely--my heart kind o' warms to thet
man--put a squad
o' melish' at each winder wi' their bayonets pinted,

end sot fire to the Church, end charred up the hull
kit, preacher and
all! The heft o' them was burnt; but
some thet warn't thar skinned out
o' the kentry, end
got lands from the British up to the Thames River
in
Canady, end founded what they call the Moravian Towns
thar;
and thar they is still--fur them Britishers kind
o' pampers the Injuns,
so they may git at our scalps.
SLAUGH. I reckon we'll hev a tussle wi' them gentry
afore long. But
for Noo England we'd a hed it afore
now; but them Noo Englanders
kind o' curries to the
Britishers. A war would spile their shippin', end
so
they're agin it. But we h'aint got no ships to spile in
this western
kentry, end so I reckon we'll pitch in.

GERKIN. We'd better git out o' this Injun fry-pan fust,
old hoss! I
could lick my