I should like to be informed, sir, from your lips, which of his
sentiments has struck the deadliest blow--'
'At the hundred heads of the Hydra of Corruption now grovelling in the
dust beneath the lance of Reason, and spouting up to the universal arch
above us, its sanguinary gore,' said Mr Brick, putting on a little blue
cloth cap with a glazed front, and quoting his last article.
'The libation of freedom, Brick'--hinted the colonel.
'--Must sometimes be quaffed in blood, colonel,' cried Brick. And when
he said 'blood,' he gave the great pair of scissors a sharp snap, as if
THEY said blood too, and were quite of his opinion.
This done, they both looked at Martin, pausing for a reply.
'Upon my life,' said Martin, who had by this time quite recovered his
usual coolness, 'I can't give you any satisfactory information about it;
for the truth is that I--'
'Stop!' cried the colonel, glancing sternly at his war correspondent and
giving his head one shake after every sentence. 'That you never heard of
Jefferson Brick, sir. That you never read Jefferson Brick, sir. That
you never saw the Rowdy Journal, sir.
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