"Now, Fitz, that's foolish. I aint rich, to be sure, but I'm
respectable. I don't drink nor chew, and I've got five hundred
dollars laid away in the bank."
"You're welcome to your five hundred dollars," said Fitz, in what was
meant to be a tone of withering sarcasm.
"Am I? Well, I'd orter be, considerin' I earned it by hard work.
Seems to me you've got high notions, Fitz. Your mother was kind of
flighty, and I've heard mine say Cousin Jim--that's your father--was
mighty sot up by gettin' rich. But seems to me you ought not to deny
your own flesh and blood."
"I don't know who you refer to, sir."
"Why, you don't seem to want to own me as your cousin."
"Of course not. You're only a common tin-pedler."
"Well, I know I'm a tin-pedler, but that don't change my bein' your
cousin."
"I wish my father was here to expose your falsehood."
"Hold on there!" said Abner. "You're goin' a leetle too far. I
don't let no man, nor boy neither, charge me with lyin', if he is my
cousin, I don't stand that, nohow."
There was something in Abner's tone which convinced Fitzgerald that
he was in earnest, and that he himself must take care not to go too
far.
"I don't wish to have anything more to say to you," said Fitz."
"I say, boys," said Abner, turning to the crowd who had now formed a
circle around the cousins, "I leave it to you if it aint mean for
Fitz to treat me in that way.
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