"Hoh! I'll warrant," growled her father. "Hope you'll vote the Whig
ticket, Netty, when you get your rights."
"Will the Union be dissolved, then, pa-sy,--when the Whigs are beaten?"
"Bah! you little plague," he growled, with a laugh. "But, then, you
women don't know anything about politics. So, there. As I was saying,
everything went wrong with me to-day. I've been speculating in railroad
stock, and singed my fingers. Then, old Tom Hollis outbid me to-day,
at Leonard's, on a rare medical work I had set my eyes upon having.
Confound him! Then, again, two of my houses are tenantless, and there
are folks in two others that won't pay their rent, and I can't get them
out. Out they'll go, though, or I'll know why. And, to crown all--um-m.
And I wish the Devil had him! as he will."
"Had who, Beary-papa?"
"Him. I'll tell you. The street-floor of one of my houses in Hanover
Street lets for an oyster-room. They keep a bar there, and sell liquor.
Last night they had a grand row,--a drunken fight, and one man was
stabbed, it's thought fatally.
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