I'd
just have taken the first knife and killed um. Man, our Liberty is our
Life. Dith to whoever attacks it!"
And so Edward coming in with Alfred's dinner on a tray, found the
_soi-disant_ maniac delivering his wrongs with the lofty serenity of an
ancient philosopher discussing the wrongs of another, Julia crying
furtively into the tub, and the good physician trampling and raving about
the room, like what the stoical narrator was accused of being. Edward
stopped, and looked at them all over the tray. "Well," said he, "if
there's a madman in the room, it is not Hardie. Ahem."
"Madman? ye young ijjit," roared the doctor, "he's no madder than I am."
"Heaven forbid," said Alfred drily.
"No madder than _you_ are, ye young Pump."
"That's an ungenerous skit on Edward's profession," objected the maniac.
"Be quite now, chattering," said the excited doctor; "I tell ye ye niver
were mad, and niver will be. It's just the most heartless imposture, the
most rascally fraud I've ever caught the Mad Ox out in. I'll expose it.
Gimme pninkpapr. Man, they'll take y' again if we don't mind.
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