[Dark Saint Alaick]

After having discussed his repast, and washed it down with a bottle of choice old claret,
he resolved upon a visit to Long Island to view his purchase. He consequently
immediately hired a horse and gig, crossed the Brooklyn ferry, and drove along the
margin of the river to the Wallabout, the location in question.
Our friend, however, was not a little perplexed to find his property. Everything on the
map was as fair and even as possible, while all the grounds about him were as undulated
as they could well be imagined, and there was an elbow of the East River thrusting itself
quite into the ribs of the land, which seemed to have no business there. This puzzled the
Frenchman exceedingly; and, being a stranger in those parts, he called to a farmer in an
adjacent field.
"Mon ami, are you acquaint vid dis part of de country--eh?"
"Yes, I was born here, and know every inch of it."
"Ah, c'est bien, dat vill do," and the Frenchman got out of the gig, tied the horse, and
produced his lithographic map.
"Den maybe you vill have de kindness to show me de sixty lot vich I have bought, vid de
valuarble vatare privalege?"
The farmer glanced his eye over the paper.
"Yes, sir, with pleasure; if you will be good enough to get into my boat, I will row you
out to them!"
"Vat dat you say, sure?"