Perhaps
Captain Hall had no humor himself, and if so he would never find it. Did
he always feel the point of what was said to himself? I doubt it,
because I happen to know a chance he once had given him in vain. The
Captain was walking up and down the veranda of a country tavern in
Massachusetts while the coach changed horses. A thunder-storm was going
on, and, with that pleasant European air of indirect self-compliment in
condescending to be surprised by American merit, which we find so
conciliating, he said to a countryman lounging against the door, 'Pretty
heavy thunder you have here.' The other, who had divined at a glance his
feeling of generous concession to a new country, drawled gravely, 'Waal,
we _du_, considerin' the number of inhabitants.' This, the more I
analyze it, the more humorous does it seem. The same man was capable of
wit also, when he would. He was a cabinet-maker, and was once employed
to make some commandment-tables for the parish meeting-house. The
parson, a very old man, annoyed him by looking into his workshop every
morning, and cautioning him to be very sure to pick out 'clear mahogany
without any _knots_ in it.
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