lighted a cigar, and throwing himself back on his chair, put both feet out of the window, and sat with his arms folded, a perfect picture of happiness.  You appear, said I, to have travelled over the whole of this Province, and to have observed the country and the people with much attention, pray what is your opinion of the present state and future prospects of Halifax?  If you will tell me, said he, when the folks there will wake up, then I can answer you, but they are fast asleep; as to the Province, its a splendid province, and calculated to go ahead, it will grow as fast as a Varginey gall, and they grow so amazin fast, if you put your arm round one of their necks to kiss them, by the time you’re done, they’ve grown up into women.  It’s a pretty Province I tell you, good above and better below; surface covered with pastures, meadows, woods, and a nation sight of water privileges, and under the ground full of mines—­it puts me in mind of the soup at the tree-mont House.  One day I was a walkin in the Mall, and who should I meet but Major Bradford, a gentleman from Connecticut, that traded in calves and pumpkins for the Boston market.  Says he, Slick, where do you get your grub to-day?  At General Peep’s tavern, says I; only fit for niggers, says he, why don’t you come to the tree-mont house, that’s the most splendid thing its generally allowed in all the world.  Why, says I, that’s a notch above my mark, I guess it’s too plagy dear for me, I cant afford it no how.  Well, says he, its dear in one sense, but its dog cheap in another—­its a grand place for speculation—­there’s so many rich southerners and strangers there that have more money than wit, that you might do a pretty good business there, without goin out of the street door.  I made two hundred dollars this mornin in little less than half no time.  There’s a Carolina Lawyer there, as rich as a bank, and says he to me arter breakfast, Major, says he, I wish I knew where to get a real slapping trotter of a horse, one that could trot with a flash of lightning for a mile, and beat it by a whole neck or so.  Says I, my Lord, (for you must know, he says he’s the nearest male heir to a Scotch dormant peerage,) my Lord, says I, I have one a proper sneezer, a chap that can go ahead of a rail road steamer, a real natural traveller, one that can trot with the ball out of the small eend of a rifle, and never break into a gallop.  Says he, Major, I wish you would’nt give me that are nickname, I dont like it, (though he looked as tickled all the time as possible,) I never knew says he a lord that warnt a fool, that’s a fact, and that’s the reason I don’t go ahead and claim the title.  Well, says I, my Lord I dont know, but somehow I cant help a thinkin, if you have a good claim, you’d be more like a fool not to go ahead with it.  Well, says he, Lord or no Lord, let’s look at your horse.  So away I went to Joe Brown’s livery stable, at tother eend of the city, and picked out the best trotter