A quarter race in Kentucky and other sketches, illustrative of scenes, characters, and incidents throughout "the universal Yankee nation." |
 |
LANTY OLIPHANT IN COURT. |
 | A quarter race in Kentucky |  |
LANTY OLIPHANT IN COURT.
BY MAJ. KELLY, OF LOUISIANA.
The writer of the diverting sketch annexed has taken leave of his
editorial sanctum, and "gone to the wars;" in other words, to
Mexico, where, we trust, he will render as good an account
of himself as he has of "Lanty Oliphant."
Lawyers allege that there are four classes of witnesses
—those who prove too much, those who prove too little,
those of a totally negative character, and those of no
character at all, who will prove any thing. We have a
case in point.
Far, very far away from the tall Blue mountains, at a
little place called Sodom, there were upon a time three
neighbours called in as arbitrators to settle a point, relative
to some stolen chickens, in dispute between one
Lot Corson and a "hard case" called Emanuel Allen,
better known thereabout as King of the Marsh.
"Mister Constable," said one of the demi-judicials,
"now call the principal witness."
"Lanty Oliphant! Lanty Olip-h-a-n-t!" bawled
Dogberry. "Mosey in and be swore."
In obedience to this summons, little Lanty, whose
bottle had usurped the place in his affections commonly
assigned to soap and water, waddled up, and was qualified,
deprecating by a look the necessity of such a useless
ceremony among gentlemen.
"Mister Oliphant, you are now swore. Do you
know the value of an oath?" asked the senior of the
board.
"Doesn't I!" rejoined Lanty, with a wink at a bystander.
"Four bushel of weight wheat, the old score
wiped off, and licker for the hul day throw'd in."
This matter-of-fact answer met a severe frown from
the man with the red ribbon round his hat.
"Well, Mister Oliphant," continued the senior, "tell
all you know about this here case. Bill M—k, shoo
your dog off that d—d old sow."
Lanty here testified. "Feelin' a sort of outish t'other
day, ses I to the old woman, ses I, I'll jist walk over to
Lot's and take a nipper or two this mornin', ses I. It'll
take the wind off my stomach sorter, ses I. Then the
old woman's feathers riz, they did, like a porkypine's
bristles, and ses she, Lanty, says she, if you'd on'y airn
more bread and meat, and drink less whisky, you
would'nt have wind on your stomach. Suse, ses I,
this is one of my resarved rights, and I goes agin home
industry, ses I, sort o' laughin' out o' the wrong side o'
my mouth. `Resarved rights or desarved wrongs,' ses
her, `you'r always a drinkin' and talkin' politics when
you orter be at work, and there's never nothin' to eat
in the house.' Well, as I was agoin over to Lot's jist
fernent where the fence was, ses I to myself, ses I, if
there is'nt the old King's critters in my corn field, so I'll
jist go and tell him on't. When I gets there, Good
mornin', Lanty, ses he. Good mornin', old hoss, ses I,
and when I went in, there was a pot on the fire a cookin',
with a great big speckled rooster in it."
"Minster Oliphant!" here interposed one of the arbitrators.
you know that the chicken in the pot was `a big speckled
rooster?' "
"'Kase I seed the feathers at the woodpile!" promptly
responded Lanty, who then continued:
"Well, when I gits to Lot's, Good mornin', Lot, ses
I. Good mornin', Lanty, ses he. You didn't see nothin'
no where of nar' a big speckled rooster that didn't belong
to nobody, did you? ses he. Didn't I? ses I.
Come, Lanty, ses he, let's take a nipper, ses he; and
then I up and tells him all about it."
"Had Mr. Allen no chickens of his own?" asked the
senior.
"Sartin'," rejoined Lanty; "but there warn't a
rooster in the crowd. They was all layin' hens!"
"Well," inquired another of the referees, "how many
of these hens had Mr. Allen?"
This question fairly "stump'd" Lanty for a moment,
but he quickly answered:
"Why, with what was there, and what wasn't there,
counting little and big, spring chickens and all, there
was forty odd, EXACTLY!"
No further questions were put to this witness!
| A quarter race in Kentucky | |