Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v11: Friar Philip's Geese and Minutolo"

Charles Kingsley - "Plays and Puritans"

Jerome K. Jerome - "Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow"

Kate Langley Bosher - "Miss Gibbie Gault"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Nature and Human Nature

T >> Thomas Chandler Haliburton >> Nature and Human Nature




Ah, Sophy, when you read this, and I know you will, you'll say, What a
dreadful picture you have drawn! it ain't like you--you are too
good-natured, I can't believe you ever wrote so spiteful an article as
this, and, woman like, make more complimentary remarks than I deserve.
Well, it ain't like me, that's a fact, but it is like the world for
all that. Well, then you will puzzle your little head whether after
all there is any happiness in married life, won't you?

Well, I will answer that question. I believe there may be and are
many, very many happy marriages; but then people must be as near as
possible in the same station of life, their tempers compatible, their
religious views the same, their notions of the world similar, and
their union based on mutual affection, entire mutual confidence, and
what is of the utmost consequence, the greatest possible mutual
respect. Can you feel this towards me, Sophy, can you, dear? Then be
quick--"pick up chips and call your father to dinner."



CHAPTER XXII.

A DISH OF CLAMS.


Eating is the chief occupation at sea. It's the great topic as well as
the great business of the day, especially in small sailing vessels
like the "Black Hawk;" although anything is good enough for me when I
can't get nothin' better, which is the true philosophy of life. If
there is a good dish and a bad one set before me, I am something of a
rat, I always choose the best.

There are few animals, as there are few men, that we can't learn
something from. Now a rat, although I hate him like pyson, is a
travelling gentleman, and accommodates himself to circumstances. He
likes to visit people that are well off, and has a free and easy way
about him, and don't require an introduction. He does not wait to be
pressed to eat, but helps himself, and does justice to his host and
his viands. When hungry, he will walk into the larder and take a lunch
or a supper without requiring any waiting on. He is abstemious, or
rather temperate in his drinking. Molasses and syrup he prefers to
strong liquors, and he is a connoisseur in all things pertaining to
the dessert. He is fond of ripe fruit, and dry or liquid preserves,
the latter of which he eats with cream, for which purpose he forms a
passage to the dairy. He prides himself on his knowledge of cheese,
and will tell you in the twinkling of an eye which is the best in
point of flavour or richness. Still he is not proud--he visits the
poor when there is no gentlemen in the neighbourhood, and can
accommodate himself to coarse fare and poor cookery. To see him in one
of these hovels, you would think he never knew anything better, for he
has a capital appetite, and can content himself with mere bread and
water. He is a wise traveller, too. He is up to the ways of the world,
and is aware of the disposition there is everywhere to entrap
strangers. He knows now to take care of himself. If he is ever
deceived, it is by treachery. He is seized sometimes at the hospitable
board, and assassinated, or perhaps cruelly poisoned. But what skill
can ensure safety, where confidence is so shamefully abused? He is a
capital sailor, even bilge-water don't make him squeamish, and he is
so good a judge of the sea-worthiness of a ship, that he leaves her at
the first port if he finds she is leaky or weak. Few architects, on
the other hand, have such a knowledge of the stability of a house as
he has. He examines its foundations thoroughly, and if he perceives
any, the slightest chance of its falling, he retreats in season, and
leaves it to its fate. In short, he is a model traveller, and much may
be learned from him.

But, then, who is perfect? He has some serious faults, from which we
may also take instructive lessons, so as to avoid them. He runs all
over a house, sits up late at night, and makes a devil of a noise. He
is a nasty, cross-grained critter, and treacherous even to those who
feed him best. He is very dirty in his habits, and spoils as much food
as he eats. If a door ain't left open for him, he cuts right through
it, and if by accident he is locked in, he won't wait to be let out,
but hacks a passage ship through the floor. Not content with being
entertained himself, he brings a whole retinue with him, and actilly
eats a feller out of house and home, and gets as sassy as a free
nigger. He gets into the servant-gall's bed-room sometimes at night,
and nearly scares her to death under pretence he wants her candle; and
sometimes jumps right on to the bed, and says she is handsome enough
to eat, gives her a nip on the nose, sneezes on her with great
contempt, and tells her she takes snuff. The fact is, he is hated
everywhere he travels for his ugly behaviour as much as an Englishman,
and that is a great deal more than sin is by half the world.

Now, being fond of natur, I try to take lessons from all created
critters. I copy the rat's travelling knowledge and good points as
near as possible, and strive to avoid the bad. I confine myself to the
company apartments, and them that's allotted to me! Havin' no family,
I take nobody with me a-visitin', keep good hours, and give as little
trouble as possible; and as for goin' to the servant-gall's room,
under pretence of wanting a candle, I'd scorn such an action. Now, as
there is lots of good things in this vessel, rat like, I intend to
have a good dinner.

"Sorrow, what have you got for us to-day?"

"There is the moose-meat, Massa."

"Let that hang over the stern, we shall get tired of it."

"Den, Massa, dar is de Jesuit-priest; by golly, Massa, dat is a funny
name. Yah, yah, yah! dis here niggar was took in dat time. Dat ar a
fac."

"Well, the turkey had better hang over too."

"Sposin' I git you fish dinner to-day, Massa?"

"What have you got?"

"Some tobacco-pipes, Massa, and some miller's thumbs." The rascal
expected to take a rise out of me, but I was too wide awake for him.
Cutler and the doctor, strange to say, fell into the trap, and
required an explanation, which delighted Sorrow amazingly. Cutler,
though an old fisherman on the coast, didn't know these fish at all.
And the doctor had some difficulty in recognising them, under names he
had never heard of before.

"Let us have them."

"Well, there is a fresh salmon, Massa?"

"Let us have steaks off of it. Do them as I told you, and take care
the paper don't catch fire, and don't let the coals smoke 'em. Serve
some lobster sauce with them, but use no butter, it spoils salmon. Let
us have some hoss-radish with it."

"Hoss-radish! yah, yah, yah! Why, Massa, whar under the sun does you
suppose now I could git hoss-radish, on board ob dis 'Black Hawk?' De
sea broke into my garden de oder night, and kill ebery created ting in
it. Lord a massy, Massa, you know dis is notin' but a fishin'-craft,
salt pork and taters one day, and salt beef and taters next day, den
twice laid for third day, and den begin agin. Why, dere neber has been
no cooking on board of dis here fore-and-after till you yourself comed
on board. Dey don't know nuffin'. Dey is as stupid and ignorant as
coots."

Here his eye rested on the captain, when with the greatest coolness he
gave me a wink, and went on without stopping.

"Scept massa captain," said he, "and he do know what is good, dat ar a
fact, but he don't like to be ticular, so he takes same fare as men,
and dey isn't jealous. 'Sorrow,' sais he, 'make no stinction for me. I
is used to better tings, but I'll put up wid same fare as men.'"

"Sorrow," said the captain, "how can you tell such a barefaced
falsehood. What an impudent liar you are, to talk so before my face. I
never said anything of the kind to you."

"Why, Massa, now," said Sorrow, "dis here child is wide awake, that
are a fac, and no mistake, and it's onpossible he is a dreamin'. What
is it you did say den, when you ordered dinner?"

"I gave my orders and said nothing more."

"Exactly, Massa, I knowed I was right; dat is de identical ting I
said. You was used to better tings; you made no stinctions, and
ordered all the same for boaf of you. Hoss-radish, Massa Slick," said
he, "I wish I had some, or could get some ashore for you, but
hoss-radish ain't French, and dese folks nebber hear tell ob him."

"Make some."

"Oh, Massa, now you is makin' fun ob dis poor niggar."

"I am not. Take a turnip, scrape it the same as the radish, into fine
shaving, mix it with fresh mustard, and a little pepper and vinegar,
and you can't tell it from t'other."

"By golly, Massa, but dat are a wrinkle. Oh, how missus would a lubbed
you. It was loud all down sout dere was a great deal ob 'finement in
her. Nobody was good nuff for her dere; dey had no taste for cookin'.
She was mighty high 'mong de ladies, in de instep, but not a mossel of
pride to de niggars. Oh, you would a walked right into de cockles ob
her heart. If you had tredded up to her, she would a married you, and
gub you her tree plantations, and eight hundred niggar, and ebery
ting, and order dinner for you herself. Oh, wouldn't she been done,
gone stracted, when you showed her how she had shot her grandmother?1
wouldn't she? I'll be dad fetched if she wouldn't."


1 Shooting one's granny, or grandmother, means fancying you have
discovered what was well known before.


"Have you any other fish?" I said.

"Oh yes, Massa; some grand fresh clams."

"Do you know how to cook them?"

"Massa," said he, putting his hands under his white apron, and,
sailor-like, giving a hitch up to his trousers, preparatory to
stretching himself straight; "Massa, dis here niggar is a rambitious
niggar, and he kersaits he can take de shine out ob any niggar that
ever played de juice harp in cookin' clams. Missus structed me
husself. Massa, I shall nebber forget dat time, de longest day I live.
She sent for me, she did, and I went in, and she was lyin' on de sofa,
lookin' pale as de inside of parsimmon seed, for de wedder was brilin'
hot.

"'Sorrow,' said she.

"'Yes, Missus,' said I.

"'Put the pillar under my head. Dat is right,' said she; 'tank you,
Sorrow.'

"Oh, Massa, how different she was from abulitinists to Boston. She
always said Tankee, for ebery ting. Now ablutinists say, 'Hand me dat
piller, you darned rascal, and den make yourself skase, you is as
black as de debbil's hind leg.' And den she say--

"'Trow dat scarf over my ankles, to keep de bominable flies off.
Tankee, Sorrow; you is far more handier dan Aunt Dolly is. Dat are
niggar is so rumbustious, she jerks my close so, sometimes I tink in
my soul she will pull 'em off.' Den she shut her eye, and she gabe a
cold shiver all ober.

"'Sorrow,' sais she, 'I am goin' to take a long, bery long journey, to
de far off counteree.'

"'Oh dear me! Missus,' says I; 'Oh Lord; Missus, you ain't a goin' to
die, is you?' and I fell down on my knees, and kissed her hand, and
said, 'Oh, Missus; don't die, please Missus. What will become oh dis
niggar if you do? If de Lord in his goodness take you away, let me go
wid you, Missus;' and I was so sorry I boohooed right out, and groaned
and wipy eye like courtin' amost.

"'Why, Uncle Sorrow,' said she, 'I isn't a goin' to die; what makes
you tink dat? Stand up: I do railly believe you do lub your missus. Go
to dat closet, and pour yourself out a glass of whiskey;' and I goes
to de closet--just dis way--and dere stood de bottle and a glass, as
dis here one do, and I helpt myself dis fashen.

"'What made you tink I was a goin' for to die?' said she, 'do I look
so ill?'

"'No, Missus; but dat is de way de Boston preacher dat staid here last
week spoke to me,--de long-legged, sour face, Yankee villain. He is
uglier and yallerer dan Aunt Phillissy Anne's crooked-necked squashes.
I don't want to see no more ob such fellers pysonin' de minds ob de
niggars here.'

"Says he, 'My man.'

"'I isn't a man,' sais I, 'I is only a niggar.'

"'Poor, ignorant wretch,' said he.

"'Massa,' sais I, 'you has waked up de wrong passenger dis present
time. I isn't poor, I ab plenty to eat, and plenty to drink, and two
great trong wenches to help me cook, and plenty of fine frill shirt,
longin' to my old massa, and bran new hat, and when I wants money I
asks missus, and she gives it to me, and I ab white oberseer to shoot
game for me. When I wants wild ducks or wenson, all I got to do is to
say to dat Yankee oberseer, 'Missus and I want some deer or some
canvasback, I spect you had better go look for some, Massa Buccra.'
No, no, Massa, I ain't so ignorant as to let any man come over me to
make seed-corn out of me. If you want to see wretches, go to James
Town, and see de poor white critters dat ab to do all dere own work
deyselves, cause dey is so poor, dey ab no niggars to do it for 'em.'

"Sais he, 'Hab you ebber tort ob dat long journey dat is afore you? to
dat far off counteree where you will be mancipated and free, where de
weary hab no rest, and de wicked hab no labor?'

"'Down to Boston I spose, Massa,' sais I, 'mong dem pententionists and
ablutionists, Massa; ablution is a mean, nasty, dirty ting, and don't
suit niggars what hab good missus like me, and I won't take dat
journey, and I hate dat cold counteree, and I want nottin' to do wid
mansipationists.'

"'It ain't dat, said he, 'it's up above.'

"'What,' sais I, 'up dere in de mountains? What onder de sun should I
go dere for to be froze to defth, or to be voured by wild beasts?
Massa, I won't go nowhere widout dear missus goes.'

"'I mean Heaben,' he said, 'where all are free and all equal; where
joy is, and sorrow enters not.'

"'What,' sais I, 'Joy in Heaben? I don't believe one word of it. Joy
was de greatest tief on all dese tree plantations of missus; he stole
more chicken, and corn, and backey, dan his great bull neck was worth,
and when he ran off, missus wouldn't let no one look for him. Joy in
Heaben, eh; and Sorrow nebber go dere! Well, I clare now! Yah, yah,
yah, Massa, you is foolin' dis here niggar now, I know you is when you
say Joy is dead, and gone to Heaben, and dis child is shot out for
ebber. Massa,' sais I, 'me and missus don't low ablution talk here, on
no account whatsomever, de only larnin' we lows of is whippin' fellows
who tice niggars to rections, and de slaves of dis plantation will
larn you as sure as you is bawn, for dey lub missus dearly. You had
better kummence de long journey usself. Sallust, bring out dis
gentleman hoss; and Plutarch, go fetch de saddle-bag down.'

"I led his hoss by where de dogs was, and, sais I, 'Massa, I can't
help larfin' no how I can fix it, at dat ar story you told me about
dat young rascal Joy. Dat story do smell rader tall, dat are a fac;
yah, yah, yah,' and I fell down and rolled ober and ober on de grass,
and it's lucky I did, for as I dodged he fetched a back-handed blow at
me wid his huntin' whip, that would a cut my head off if it had tooked
me round my neck.

"My missus larfed right out like any ting, tho' it was so hot, and
when missus larf I always know she is good-natured.

"'Sorrow,' said missus, 'I am afraid you is more rogue dan fool.'

"'Missus,' sais I, 'I nebber stole the vally of a pin's head off ob
dis plantation, I scorn to do such a nasty, dirty, mean action, and
you so kind as to gib me more nor I want, and you knows dat, Missus;
you knows it, oderwise you wouldn't send me to de bank, instead ob
white oberseer, Mr Succatash, for six, seben, or eight hundred dollars
at a time. But, dere is too much stealin' going on here, and you and
I, Missus, must be more ticklar. You is too dulgent altogether.'

"'I didn't mean that, Sorrow,' she said, 'I don't mean stealin'.

"'Well, Missus, I's glad to hear dat, if you will let me ab permission
den, I will drink you good helf.'

"'Why didn't you do it half an hour ago?' she said.

"'Missus,' sais I, 'I was so busy talkin', and so scared about your
helf, and dere was no hurry,' and I stept near to her side, where she
could see me, and I turned de bottle up, and advanced dis way, for it
hadn't no more dan what old Cloe's thimble would hold, jist like dis
bottle.

"'Why,' said she (and she smiled, and I knowed she was good-natured),
'dere is nottin' dere, see if dere isn't some in de oder bottle,' and
I went back and set it down, and took it up to her, and poured it out
dis way."

"Slick," said Cutler, "I am astonished at you, you are encouraging
that black rascal in drinking, and allowing him to make a beast of
himself," and he went on deck to attend to his duty, saying as he shut
the door, "That fellow will prate all day if you allow him." Sorrow
followed him with a very peculiar expression of eye as he retired.

"Massa Captain," said he, "as sure as de world, is an ablutionist, dat
is just de way dey talk. Dey call us coloured breddren when they tice
us off from home, and den dey call us black rascals and beasts. I wish
I was to home agin, Yankees treat dere coloured breddren like dogs,
dat is a fact; but he is excellent man, Massa Captain, bery good man,
and though I don't believe it's a possible ting Joy is in heaben, I is
certain de captain, when de Lord be good nuff to take him, will go
dere."

"The captain is right," said I, "Sorrow, put down that bottle; you
have had more than enough already--put it down;" but he had no idea of
obeying, and held on to it.

"If you don't put that down, Sorrow," I said, "I will break it over
your head."

"Oh! Massa," said he, "dat would be a sin to waste dis oloriferous rum
dat way; just let me drink it first, and den I will stand, and you may
break de bottle on my head; it can't hurt niggar's head, only cut a
little wool."

"Come, no more of this nonsense," I said, "put it down;" and seeing me
in earnest, he did so.

"Now," sais I, "tell us how you are going to cook the clams."

"Oh! Massa," said he, "do let me finish de story about de way I larned
it.

"'Sorrow,' said missus, 'I am going to take a long journey all de way
to Boston, and de wedder is so cold, and what is wus, de people is so
cold, it makes me shudder,' and she shivered like cold ague fit, and I
was afraid she would unjoint de sofa.

"'Don't lay too close to them, Missus,' sais I.

"'What,' said she, and she raised herself up off ob de pillar, and she
larfed, and rolled ober and ober, and tosticated about almost in a
conniption fit, 'you old goose,' said she, 'you onaccountable fool,'
and den she larfed and rolled ober agin, I tought she would a tumbled
off on de floor, 'do go way; you is too foolish to talk to, but turn
my pillar again. Sorrow,' said she, 'is I showin' of my ankles,' said
she, 'rollin' about so like mad?'

"'Little bit,' sais I, 'Missus.'

"'Den put dat scarf ober my feet agin. What on earth does you mean,
Sorrow, bout not sleepin' too close to de Yankees?'

"'Missus,' sais I, 'does you recollect de day when Zeno was drownded
off de raft? Well, dat day Plutarch was lowed to visit next
plantation, and dey bring him home mazin' drunk--stupid as owl, his
mout open and he couldn't speak, and his eye open and he couldn't see.
Well, as you don't low niggar to be flogged, Aunt Phillissy Ann and I
lay our heads together, and we tought we'd punish him; so we ondressed
him, and put him into same bed wid poor Zeno, and when he woke up in
de mornin' he was most frighten to def, and had de cold chills on him,
and his eye stared out ob his head, and his teeth chattered like
monkeys. He was so frighten, we had to burn lights for a week--he
tought after dat he saw Zeno in bed wid him all de time. It's werry
dangerous, Missus, to sleep near cold people like Yankees and dead
niggars.'

"'Sorrow, you is a knave I believe,' she said.

"'Knave, knave, Missus,' I sais, 'I don't know dat word.'

"'Sorrow,' said she, 'I is a goin' to take you wid me.'

"'Tank you, Missus,' said I, 'oh! bless your heart, Missus.'"

"Sorrow," said I, sternly, "do you ever intend to tell us how you are
going to cook them clams, or do you mean to chat all day?"

"Jist in one minute, Massa, I is jist comin' to it," said he.

"'Now,' sais missus, 'Sorrow, it's werry genteel to travel wid one's
own cook; but it is werry ongenteel when de cook can't do nuffin'
super-superior; for bad cooks is plenty eberywhere widout travellin'
wid 'em. It brings disgrace.'

"'Exactly, Missus,' sais I, 'when you and me was up to de president's
plantation, his cook was makin' plum pudden, he was. Now how in natur
does you rimagine he did it? why, Missus, he actilly made it wid
flour, de stupid tick-headed fool, instead ob de crumbs ob a six cent
stale loaf, he did; and he nebber 'pared de gredients de day afore, as
he had aughten to do. It was nuffin' but stick jaw--jist fit to feed
turkeys and little niggeroons wid. Did you ebber hear de likes ob dat
in all your bawn days, Missus; but den, Marm, de general was a berry
poor cook hisself you know, and it stand to argument ob reason, where
massa or missus don't know nuffin', de sarvant can't neither. Dat is
what all de gentlemen and ladies says dat wisit here, Marm: 'What a
lubly beautiful woman Miss Lunn is,' dey say, 'dere is so much
'finement in her, and her table is de best in all Meriky.'

"'What a fool you is, Uncle Sorrow,' she say, and den she larf again;
and when missus larf den I know she was pleased. 'Well,' sais she,
'now mind you keep all your secrets to yourself when travellin', and
keep your eyes open wide, and see eberyting and say nuffin'.'

"'Missus,' sais I, 'I will be wide awake; you may pend on me--eyes as
big as two dog-wood blossoms, and ears open like mackarel.'

"'What you got for dinner to-day?' she say--jist as you say, Massa.
Well, I tell her all ober, as I tells you, numeratin' all I had. Den
she picked out what she wanted, and mong dem I recklect was clams.'"

"Now tell us how you cooked the clams," I said; "what's the use of
standing chattering all day there like a monkey?"

"Dat, Massa, now is jist what I is goin' to do dis blessid minit.
'Missus,' sais I, 'talkin' of clams, minds me of chickens.'

"'What on airth do you mean,' sais she, 'you blockhead; it might as
well mind you of tunder.'

"'Well, Missus,' sais I, 'now sometimes one ting does mind me of
anoder ting dat way; I nebber sees you, Missus, but what you mind me
ob de beautiful white lily, and dat agin ob de white rose dat hab de
lubly color on his cheek.'

"'Do go away, and don't talk nonsense,' she said, larfing; and when
she larfed den I know she was pleased.

"'So clams mind me of chickens.'

"'And whiskey,' she said.

"'Well, it do, Missus; dat are a fac;' and I helped myself agin dis
way."

"Sorrow," said I, "this is too bad; go forward now and cut this
foolery short. You will be too drunk to cook the dinner if you go on
that way."

"Massa," said he, "dis child nebber was drunk in his life; but he is
frose most to deaf wid de wretched fogs (dat give people here 'blue
noses'), an de field ice, and raw winds: I is as cold as if I slept
wid a dead niggar or a Yankee. Yah, yah, yah.

"'Well, Missus,' sais I, 'dem clams do mind me ob chickens. Now,
Missus, will you skuse me if I git you the receipt Miss Phillis and I
ab cyphered out, how to presarve chickens?'

"'Yes,' she said, 'I will. Let me hear it. Dat is sumthen new.'

"'Well, Missus, you know how you and I is robbed by our niggars like
so many minks. Now, Missus, sposin' you and I pass a law dat all fat
poultry is to be brought to me to buy, and den we keep our fat poultry
locked up; and if dey steal de lean fowls, and we buy 'em, we saves de
fattenin' of 'em, and gibs no more arter all dan de vally of food and
tendin', which is all dey gits now, for dere fowls is always de best
fed in course; and when we ab more nor we wants for you and me, den I
take 'em to market and sell 'em; and if dey will steal 'em arter dat,
Missus, we must try ticklin'; dere is nuffin' like it. It makes de
down fly like a feather-bed. It makes niggars wery sarcy to see white
tief punished tree times as much as dey is; dat are a fac, Missus. A
poor white man can't work, and in course he steal. Well, his time
bein' no airthly use, dey gib him six month pensiontary; and niggar,
who can airn a dollar or may be 100 cents a day, only one month. I
spise a poor white man as I do a skunk. Dey is a cuss to de country;
and it's berry hard for you and me to pay rates to support 'em: our
rates last year was bominable. Let us pass dis law, Missus, and fowl
stealin' is done--de ting is dead.'

"'Well, you may try it for six months,' she say, 'only no whippin'. We
must find some oder punishment,' she said.

"'I ab it,' sais I, 'Missus! Oh Lord a massy, Missus! oh dear missus!
I got an inwention as bright as bran new pewter button. I'll shave de
head of a tief close and smooth. Dat will keep his head warm in de
sun, and cool at night; do him good. He can't go courtin' den, when he
ab 'no wool whar de wool ought to grow,' and spile his 'frolicken, and
all de niggaroons make game ob him. It do more good praps to tickle
fancy ob niggars dan to tickle dere hide. I make him go to church
reglar den to show hisself and his bald pate. Yah, yah, yah!'"