SERGEANT FRANK NEAVILLE. 267 



"I tell you," said John Clark, "it takes an almighty 

 good dog to whip an old he 'coon, and not one in a thou- 

 sand can do it. Sometimes a little she 'coon will give a 

 dozen such ornery dogs as we've got a good tussle and 

 get away." 



"Look a-here, John Clark," said Charley Guyon to 

 his brother-in-law; "do you call my dog ornery?" And 

 so we talked on the way home. 



"Ornery" is Wisconsinese for "ordinary," but has no 

 such meaning. It implies baseness; it is a term of re- 

 proach. An "ornery cuss" means a low-down fellow, 

 and an "ornery dog" is one of no possible account. If a 

 man in New York should describe me as an ordinary 

 man, he would hit it right; an every-day sort of man, not 

 distinguished for anything in particular; but if a Wiscon- 

 sin man stigmatizes you as "ornery" he means another 

 thing, and if he is not a corn-fed fellow you should "let 

 go your left and follow it up with your right." 



I have already told how Frank and Henry went out 

 with the Second Wisconsin Infantry, and both were 

 killed in Virginia. 



"Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife! 



To all the sensual world proclaim, 

 One crowded hour of glorious life 



Is worth an age without a name." 



