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NATURE

fl^'V;"***

f../

/S^^

AMD

HUMAN NATURE.

BY THK AUTHOR OF

"SAM SLICK THE CLOOK-M AKE R,'» M

//Ada ITS C h ar:J Ic r 1^ oi I ibi^rrol^J)

Heminem, pagina «oitra Mpit.— Mart.
Eye nature'* walki, ihoot folly aa it flies.
And «atoh tka maaaan liTing as they riia^— Fton.

NEW YORK:
STRINGER AND TOWNSEND.

1855.

■':J

■-m

PS'?3IS

132835

▲ s

CLi:

UN]

.rj i- i.

CONTENTS.

;

WV%>VNA/%>W>'V^X

CHAPTER I.

A SUBPRISB - P*g® 1^

CHAPTER n.

CLIPPERS AND STEAMERS 26

CHAPTER III.

UNLOCKING A WOMAN'S HEART 87

CHAPTER IV.

A CRITTUR WITH A THOUSAND VIRTUES AND BUT ONE

VICE 4®

CHAPTER V.

A NEW WAY TO LEARN GAELIC 62

(ix.)

Z 00KTENT8.

CHAPTER VI.

THE WOUNDS OP THE HEART

CHAPTER VII.

FIDDLING, AND DANCING, AND SERYINO THE DEVIL...

CHAPTER Vni.

STITOHINa A BUTTON-HOLE

107

CHAPTER IX.

THE PLURAL OP MOOSE ^ 120

CHAPTER X.

A DAY ON THE LAKE. — PART 1 185

m or t CHAPTER XL

A DAY ON THE LAKE. — PART IL

149

Z<i CHAPTER XII.

THE BETROTHAL 158

ti. CHAPTER Xin. ' .

A FOGGY NIGHT 169

* ' . . > » I .

7 y CHAPTER XIV.

, t. . .._....«-.

FEMALE COLLEGES 182

CHAPTER XV.

-■ > - ,- • * . Ji - ■ • ■ • -

GIPSEYINO „.........'. 198

.. 76

.. 107

120

185

... 149

158

169

.. 182

198

OOMTBNTB. XI

CHAPTER XVI.

THE WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD 209

CHAPTER XVn.

LOST AT SEA.. 228

CHAPTER XVIII.

HOLDING UP THE MIRROR 237

CHAPTER XIX.

THE BUNDLE OF STICKS 252

CHAPTER XX.

TOWN AND COUNTRY 262

CHAPTER XXL

THE HONEYMOON 273

CHAPTER XXII.

A DISH OF CLAMS 286

CHAPTER XXIIL \

THE devil's hole; or, FISH AND FLESH 298

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CUCUMBER LAKE 308

CHAPTER XXV.

THE RECALL 824

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NATURE AND HUMAN NATUEE.

■J y.-.

CHAPTER I,
A SURPRISE.

' Thikkb I to myself, as I overheard a pMrson inquire of the
servant at the door, in an unmistakable voice and tone, ** Is the
Squire to home V that can be no one else than my old fiiend Sam
Slick the Glockmaker. But it could admit of no doubt when he
proceeded, ** If he is, tell him / am here.'*
. «WhoshaUIsay,Sirr

The stranger paused a moment, and then said, "it's such an
everlastin' long name, I don't think you can carry it all to wunst,
and I don't want it broke in two. Tell him it's a gentleman that
calculates to hold a protracted meeten here to-night Come, don't
stand starin' there in the track, you might get run over. Don't
you hear the eng»«i« coming ? Shunt off now."

" Ah, my old friend," said I, advancing, and shaking him by the
hand, " how are you 1"

" As hearty as a buck," he replied, "though I can't jlst jump
quite so high now."

" I knew you," I said, " the moment I heard your voice, and if
I had not recognized that, I should have known your talk."

" That's because I am a Yankee, Sir," he said ; " no two of us
look alike, or talk alike ; but, being free and enlightened citizens,
we jist talk as we please."

" Ah, my good friend, you always please when you talk, and
that is more than can be said of most men."

" And so will you," he replied, " if you use soft sawdeiS,^that
way. Oh, dear me ! it seems but the other day, that you laughed
so at my theory of soft sawder and human natur', don't it 1 , J^ey

'^m'

ws«.

A 8USPBI8K.

were pleasant days, warn*t tbey 1 I often think of tbem, and tliink
of them with pleasure too. As I was passing Halifax harbor, on
my way home in the * Black Hawk/ the wind fortunately came
ahead, and, thinks I to myself^ I will put in there, and pull foot*
for Windsor and see the Squire, give him my journal, and spend
an hour or two with him once more. So here I am, at least what
is left of me, and dreadful glad I am to see you too ; but as it is
about your dinner hour, I will go and titirate up a bit, and then
we will have a dish of chat for desert, and cigars to remind ns of
bygones, as we stroll through your shady walks here."

My old friend had worn well ; he was still a wiry atUelio man,
and his step as elastic and springy as even The constant exercise
he had been in the habit of taking, had preserved his health and
condition, and these in their turn had enabled him to maintain his
cheerfulness and humor. The lines in his face were somewhat
deeper, and a few straggling gray hairs were the only traces of the
hand of time. His manner was much improved by his intercourse
with the great world ; but his phraseology, in which he appeared
to take both pride and pleasure, was much the same as when I first
knew him. So little, indeed, was he changed, that I could scarcely
believe so many years had elapsed since we made our first tour
toffether.

It was ft most nnexpected and agreeable visit. He enlivened
the conversation at dinner with anecdotes that were often too
much for the gravity of my servant, who once or twice left the
room to avoid explosive outbreaks of laughter. Among othen^
he told me the following whimsical story :

" When the, * Black Hawk' was at Causeau, we h^pened to have
ft <^neer, original sort of man, a Nova Scotia doctor on board, who
joined our party at Ship Harbor, for the purpose of taking a cruise
witJi us. Not having anything above particular to do, we left the
vessel and took passage in a coaster for Prince Edward's Island,
as my commission required me to spend a day or two there, and
inquire about the fisheries. Well, although I don't trade now, I
spekelftte sometimes when I see a right smart ehanoe, and especially
if there is fun in the transaction. So, sais I, ' Doctor, I will play
possumf with these folks, and take a rise out of them, that will
astonish tiieir weak nerves, / know, while I put several hundred

* The Americans an not entitled to the credit at ridicule, whkhtfrer peojito
may be disposed to bestow upon them, for the extraordinary phrases wiA ifhaek
their eonversation is occasionally embellished. Some of them have good
classicsd authority. That of " puU-foot " may be traced to Furipidesi

" ivaipav kx Sufiarov irodH."

i-^

t The opossnm, when chased by dogs, will often pr^end to Bedead, iqid
thus deceivea his poistten.

▲ tVBPBlftS.

i8nd tUnk
barbor, on
ttely came
pull foot*
and spend
least what
at as it is
, and then
mind ns of

ileticmany
at exercise
lealth and
aintain his
somewhat
ices of th«
ntercourse
i appeared
hen I first
d scarcely
first tour

MiIiTened
often too
B left the
ig others^

id to haTe
oard, who
igik cruise
e left the
'a Island,
here, and
le now, I
»pecia]ly
will plav
that will
hundred

rer people
pnthirhich
laye good

dead, a|id

^IlafS in my pook«t at ^ same fhne/ 80 I advertised that I
would give four pounds ten shillings for the laraest Hackmetack
knee in the island, four pounds for the second, Uiree pounds ten
shillings for the third, and three pounds for the fourth biggest one.
I suppose. Squire, you know what a ship^s knee is, don't you ? It
is a crooked piece of timber, exactly the shape of a man^s leg
when kneeling. It forms two sides of a square, and makes a
grand fastening for the side and deck beams of a vessel.

" * What in the world do you want of only four of those knees V
said the Doctor.

'* ^ Nothing,* said I, * but to raise a laugh on these critters, and
make them pay real handsome for the joke.'

** Well, every bushwhacker and forest-ranger in the island
thought he knew where to find four enormous ones, and that be
would go and get them, and say nothing to nobody, and all that
morning fixed for the delivery, they kept coming into the shipping
place with them. People couldn't think what under the light m
the living sun was going on, for it seemed as if every team in the
province was at work, and all the countrymen were running mad
on junipers. Perhaps no livin' soul ever see such a beautifVil
collection of ship^timber afore, and I am snre never will again in a
crow's age. The way these 'old oysters* (a nidc-name I gave the
islanders, on account of their everlastin' beds of this shell-fish,)
opened their mugs and gaped, was a caution to dyii^ calves^

" At the time appointed, there were eight hundred stidcs on the
ground, the very best in the colony. Well, I went very gravely
round and selected the four largest, and paid for them cash down
on the nail, according to contract. The goneys seed their fbc, but
didn't know how they got into it. They didn't think hard of me,
for I advertised for four sticks only, and I gave a very high price
for them ; but they did think little mean of themselves, that's a
fact, for each man had but four pieces, and they were too ridiculous
large for the thunderin' small vessels built on the island. They
scratched their heads in a way that was harrowing, even in a stnb-
ble-field.

" 'My gradous,* sais I, * hackmetacks, it seems to me, is as thick
in this country as blackberries in the Fall, after the robins have left
to go to sleep for the winter. Who on earth would have thought
there was so many here 1 Oh, children of Israel ! What a lot
there is, aint there 1 Why, the fkther of this island couldn't hoid
them all.'

" * Father of this island,' sais they, ' who is he ? * • -^

»* « Why,' sais I, * aint this Prince Edward's r

u I Why, yes,' sais they, looking still more puzzled.

*''Well,' sais I^ Mn the middle of Halifax harbot ia King
George's Island, and that must be the father of this.'

▲ 8UBPBI8E.

" Well if they could see any wit in that speech, it is more tluA
I could, to save my soul alive ; but it is the easiest thing in the
world to set a crowd off a tee-heeing. They can't help it, for it is
electrical. Go to the circus now, and you will hear a stupid joke
of the clown ; well, you are determined you won't laugh, but some-
how you can't help it no how you can fix it, although you are mad
with yourself for doing so, and you just roar out and are as big a
fool as all the rest,
r " Well it made them laugh, and that was enough for me. t v^:>i«

" Sais I, * the worst of it is, gentleman, they are all so shocking
large, and as there is no small ones among them, 'they can't be
divided into lots, still, as you seem to be disappointed, I will make
you an offer for them, cash down, all hard gold.' So I gave them
a bid at a very low figure, say half nothing, * and,' sais I, ' I advise
you not to take it, they are worth much more, if a man only knows
what to do with them. Some of your traders, I make no manner
of doubt, will give you twice as much if you will only take your
pay in goods, at four times their value, and perhaps they mightent
like your selling them to a stranger, for they are all responsible
government-men, and act accordin' ' to the well understood wishes
of the people.' I shall sail in two hours, and you can let me know ;
but minu, I can only buy all or none, for I shall have to hire a
vessel to carry them. After all,' sais I, ' perhaps we had better not
trade, for,' taking out a handful of sovereigns from my pocket, and
jingling them, ^ there is no two ways about it ; these little fellows
are easier to carry by a long chalk than them great lummokin'
hackmetacks. Good bye, gentlemen.'

" Well, one of the critters, who was as awkward as a wrong
boot, soon calls out, * whough,' to me, so I turns and sais * well,
"old boss," what do you wanti' At which they laughed louder
than before. m-

. " Sais he, * we have concluded to take your offer.' ^

" * Well,' sais I, * there is no back out in me, here is your money,
the knees is mine.' So I shipped them, and had the satisfaction to
oblige them, and put two hundred and fifby pounds in my pocket.
There are three things. Squire, I like in a spekelation :-— First. A
fair shake. Second, A fair profit; and Thirds a fair share of
fun."

In the course of the afternoon, he said, " Squire, I have brought
you my journal, for I thought when I was a startin' off, as there
were some things I should like to point out to my old friend, it
would be as well to deliver it myself and mention them, for what
in natur' is the good of letter writing t In business there is nothing
like a good talk face to face. Now, Squire, I am really what 1
assume to be— I am, in fact, Sam Slick the Clockmaker, and
nobody else. It is of no consequence, however, to the world

A BUSPBIBB.

moretiun
hing in the
it, for it is
itupid joke
, but some-
>u are mad
ire as big a

me.

shocking
y can't be

will make

gave them
I, * I advise
only knows
no manner

take your
7 mightent
responsible
lood wishes

me know ;
e to hire a

1 better not
pocket, and
ttle fellows
lummokin'

is a wrong

sais ' well,

rhed louder

our money,
;isfaction to
my pocket.
-First. A
r share of

kve brought
)fr, as there
Id friend, it
n, for what
e is nothing
ally what I
naker, and
the world

whedier this is really my name or an assumed one. If it is the
first, it is a matter of some importance to take care of it, and
defend it ; if it is a fictitious one, it is equally so to preserve my
incognito. I may not choose to give my card, and may not desire
to be known. A satirist, like an Irishman, finds it convenient some-
times to shoot from behind a shelter. Like him, too, he may occa-
sionally miss his shot, and firing with intent to do bodily harm is
almost as badly punished as if death had ensued. And besides an
anonymous book has a mystery about it. Moreover, what more
right has a man to say to you, * stand and deliver your name,' than
to say, * stand and fork out your purse' — I can't see the difTerenoe
for the life of me. Hesitation betrays guilt. If a person inquires
if you are to home, the servant is directed to say, no, if you don't
want to be seen, and choose to be among the missing. Well, if a
feller asks if I am the Mr. Slick, I have just as good a right to say,
* ask about and find out.'

" People sometimes, I actilly believe, take you for me. If they
do, all I have to say is, they are fools not to know better, for we
neither act alike, talk alike, nor look alike, though perhaps we may
think alike on some subjects. You was bred and bom here in
Nova Scotia, and not in Connecticut, and if they ask yx>u where I
was raised, tell them I warn't raised at all, but was found one fine
morning pinned across a clothes-line, after a heavy washing to home.
It is easy to distinguish an editor from the author, if a reader has
half an eye, and if he haint got that, it's no use to offer him spec-
tacles, that's a fact. Now, by trade I am a dockmaker, and by
birth I have the honor to be a Yankee. I use the word honor,
Squire, a purpose, because I know what I am talking about, which,
I am sorry to say, is not quite so common a thing in the world as
people suppose. The English call all us Americans, Yankees, be-
cause they don't know what they are talking about, and are not
aware that it is only the inhabitants of New England, who can
boast of that appellation.*

* Brother Jonathan is the general term for all. It originated thus. When
General Washington, after being appointed commander of the army of the
Revolutionary War, came to Massachusetts to organize it, and make preparations
for the defence of the country, he found a great want of ammunition and other
means necessary to meet the powerful foe he had to contend with, and great dif>
ficulty to obtain them. If attacked in such condition, the cause at once might
be hopeless. On one occasion at that anxious period, a consultation of the ofli- ^
eeri and others was had, when it seemed no way could be devised to make such
preparations as was necessary. His Excellency Jonathan Trumbull, the elder,
was then Governor of the State of Connecticut, on whose judgment and aid the
General placed the ereatest reliance, and remarked, " We must consult ' Brother
Jonathan ' on the subject." The General did so, and the Governor was success-
ful in supplying many of the wants of the army. When difficulties arose, and
the army was spread over the country, it became a by-word, " We must qonsult

▲ ftFBPBISB.

r "This tbutherners^ who are both as proud and as sarcgr as Ihe
British, call us Eastern folk Yankees, as a term of reproach,
because having no slaves, we are obliged to be our own niggers,
and do onr own work, which isn't Considered very genteel, and as
we are intelligent, enterprising, and skilful, and therefore too often
creditors of our more luxurious countrymen, they do not like us
the better for that, and not being Puritans themselves, are apt to
style us scornfully, those d— d Yankees.

' ** Now, all this comes of their not knowing what they are talking
about. Even the New Englanders themselves, cute as they be,
often use the word foolishly 5 for. Squire, would you believe it,
none <^ them, though they answer to and acknowledge the f^pella*
tion of Yankee with pride, can tell you its origin. I repeat, there-
fore, I have the honor to be a Yankee. I don't mean to say that
word is * all same,' as the Indians say, as perfection ; far from it,
for we have some peculiarities common to us all. Cracking and
boasting is one of these. Now braggin' comes as natural to me as
seratdiin' to a Scotchman. I am as fond of rubbing myself agin
the statue of George the Third, as he is of se-sawing his shoulders
on the mile-stones of the Duke of Argyle. Each in their way
Were great benefactors, the one by teachii^ the Yankees to respect
themselves, and the other by putting his coimtryhien in an upright
posture of happiness. So I can join hands with the North Briton,
and bless them both.

" With this national and nateral infirmity, therefore, is it to be
wondered at, if, as my ' Sayings and Doings' have become more
popular than you or I ever expected, that I should crack and boast
of them 1 I think not. If I have a claim, my rule is to go ahead
with it. Now don't leave out my braggin'. Squire, because you
are afraid people will think it is you speaking, and not me, or because
you think it is bad taste as you call it. I know what I am at, and
don't go it — blind. My journal contains much for my own coun-
trymen as well as the English, for we expect every American abroad
to sustain the reputation in himself of our great nation.

" Now Ingersoll, our Minister" to Victoria's Court, when he made
bis brag speech to the great agricultural dinner at Gloucester last
year, didn t intend that for the British, but for us. So in Congress
Ao mto in either house can speak or read an oration more than an
hour long, but he can send the whole lockrum, includin' what he
didnU sayy to the papers. One has to bri^ before foreign assem-
blies, the other before a Congress, but both have an eye to the feel-
ings of tile Americans at large, and their own constituents in par-
ticular. Now that is a trick others know as well as we do. The

Brother Jonathan." Thd tenn Yankee is still applied to a portion, but *' Brother
Jonathan " hae now become a designation of the wholto country, as John Bull is
•m lngi«nd.-*BAiiTLBTT'* AMBaxoANisas.

4. »V9fm»Vt.

r<^ast1ie
reproach,
n niggers,
iel, and as
> too often
tot like us
are apt to

ire talking
they be,
lelieve it,
ie f^pella*
eat, there-

say that
r from it,
hcking and

1 to me as
lySelf agin

shoulders
their way
to respect
an nprigbt
th Briton,

Is it to be
!ome more
and boast

go ahead
cause you
or because
Eim at, and
own coutt-
can abroad

n he made
cester last

1 Congress
re than an
n' what he
gh assem-
to the feel-
its in par-
do. The

ut " Brother
JohnBuUif

Iridh member ft-om Kilmany^^nd him from Kilmorv, when hebngt
there never was a murder in either, don't expect the Englisli to
believe it, for be is availed they know better, but the brag pleasea
the patriots to home, on account of its impudence.

" So the little man. Lord Bunkum, when he opens Oxford to Jew
and Gentile, and offers to make Rothschild Chancellor instead of
Lord Derby, and tells them old dons, the heads of collegea as po-
lite as a stage-driver, that he does it out of pure regard to them,
and only to improve the University, don't expect them to believe
it ; for he gives them a sly wink when he says so, as much as to
say, how are you off for Hebrew, my old septuagenarians I Droll
boy is Rothey, for though he comes from the land of Httm^ he don't
eat pork. But it pleases the sarcumsised Jew, and the unsarcum-
sised tag-rag and bobtail that are to be admitted^ and who verily
do believe (for their bump of conceit is largely developed) that
they can improve the Colleges by granting ^ucational excursion
tickets.

*^ So Paddy O'Shonnosey, the member for Blarney, when he
votes for smashing in the porter's lodges of that Protestant insti-
tution, and talks of Tolera^on and Equal Rights, and calls the
Puk§ of Tuscany a broth of a boy, and a light to illumine hereti-
cal darkness, don't talk this nonsense to please the outs and ins,
for he don't care a snap of his finger for either of them, nor because
he thinks it right, for it's plain he don't, seeing that he would fisht
till he'd run away before Maynooth should be sarved arter that
fashion ; but he does it, because he knows it will please him, Qt.
them, that sent him there.

" There are two kinds of boastin,' Squire, active and pfkaaiye.
The former belongs exdusirely to my countrymen, and the latter
to the British. A Yankee openly asserts and loudly proclaims his
superiority. John Bull feels and looks it. He don t give utter-
ance to this conviction. He takes it for granted all the world
knows and admits it, and he is so thoipughly persuaded of it him-
self, that, to use his own favorite phrase, he don't care a fig if folks
don't admit it. His vanity, therefore, has a sublimity in it He
thinks, as the Italians say, * that when nature formed him, she
broke the mould.' There never was, never can, and never will bet
another like him. His boastin', therefore, is passive. He sho\|ra
it and acts it ; but he don't proclaim it. He condescends and is
gracious, patronizes and talks down to you. Let my boastiiji' alone,
therefore. Squire, if you please. You know what it means, what
bottom it has, and whether the plaster sticks on the right spot or
not.

"So there is the first division of my subject. Now for the
second. But don't go off at half*cock, narvous like. I am not like
the black preacher that had forty-eleven divisions. I hayQ p^ly a

A 8irBPBI9B.

few more remarks to make. Well, I have observed that in editin'
my last journal, you struck out some scores I made under certain
passages and maxims, because you thought they were not needed,
or looked vain. I know it looks consaited as well as you do, but
1 know their use also. 1 have my own views of things. Let them
also be as I have made them. They wam't put there for nothin*.
I have a case in pint that runs on all fours with it, as brother Josiah
the lawyer used to say, and if there was any thin' wantin* to prove
that lawyers were not strait up and down in their dealings, that
expression would shew it.

** I was to court wunst to Slickville, when he was addressin' of
the jury. The main points of his argument he went over and over
again till I got so tired I took up my hat and walked out. Sais I
to him, arter court was prorogued and members gone home. --

*** Sy,' sais I, ' why on airth did you repeat them arguments so
often 1 It was everlastin' yamy.*

** * Sam,' says he, and he gave his head a jupe, and pressed his
lips close, like a lemon-squeezer, the way lawyers always do when
they want to look wise, * when IcanU drive a nail with one bhw^ I
hammer away till I do git it in. Some folks' heads is as hard as
hackmetacks — ^you have to bore a hole in it first, to put the noil in
to keep it from bendin', and then it is as much as a bargain, if you
can send it home and clinch it.*

** Now maxims and saws are the sumtotalisation of a thing.
Folks won't always add up the columns to see if they are footed
rights but show 'em the amount and result, and that they are able
to remember, and carry away with them. No— no, put them
Italics in, as I have always done. They shew there is truth at the
bottom. I like it, for it s what I call sense on the short-cards — do
you take ? Recollect always, you are not Sam Slick, and I am not
you. The greatest compliment a Britisher would think he could
pay you, would be to say, * I should have taken you for an English-
man.' Now the greatest compliment he can pay me is to take me
for a Connecticut Clockmaker, who hoed his way up to the Embassy
to London, and preserved so much of his nationality, after being
so long among foreigners. Let the Italics be — ^you aint answera-
ble for them, nor my boastin' neither. When you write a book of
Jour own, leave out both, if you like, but as you only edit my
oumal, if you leave them out, just go one step further, and leave
out Sam Slick also.

^ There is another thing, Squire, upon which I must make a
remark, if you will bear with me. In my last work you made me
speak purer English than you found in my Journal, and altered my
phraseology, or rather my dialect. Now, my dear Nippent — ^"

« Nippent !" said I, " what is that «"

*' The most endearing word in the Indian language for friend,'*

▲ SUBPSIIB.

t in ^itin'
ler certain
[>t needed,
ou do, but
Let them
or nothin'.
her Josiah
i' to prove
lings, that

Iressin' of
r and over
t. Sais I
>me.
uments so

ressed his
s do when
•ne hlotPt I
U3 hard as
bhe nail in
lin, if you

>f a thing.

ire footed

r are able

put them

ith at the

Mirds — do

I am not

he could

English.

take me

Embassy

ter being

answera-

9, book of

edit my

ind leave

make a
made me
itered my
»nt— "

r friend,"

he said, " only it*8 more comprehensive, including ally, foster- '
brother, life-preserver, shaft-horse, and everything that has a human
tie in it."

" Ah, Slick," I said, " how skilled you are in soft sawder ! You
laid that trap for me on purpose, so that I might ask the question,
to enable you to throw the lavender to me."

** Dod drot that word soft sawder," said he, " I wish I had never
invented it. I can^t say a civil thing to anybody now, but he looks
arch, as if he had found a mare's nest, and says, * Ah, Slick ! ncme
of your soft sawder now.* But, my dear nippmt, by that means
YOU destroy my individuality. I cease to be tne genuine itinerant
Yankee Clockmaker, and merge into a very bad imitation. You
know I am a natural character, and always was, and act and talk
naturally, and as far as I can judge, the little alteration my sojourn
in London with the American embassy has made in my pronuncia-
tion and provincialism, is by no means an improvement to my
Journal. The moment yon take away my native dialect, I become
the representative of another class, and cease to be your old friend,

* Sam Slick, the Clockmaker.' Bear with me this once, Squire,
and don't tear your shirt, I beseech you, for in all probability it
will be the last time it will be in your power to subject me to the
ordeal of criticism, and I should like, I confess, to remain true to
myself, and to Nature to the last.

" On the other hand, Squire, you will find passives in this Jour>
nal, that have neither Yankee words, nor Yankee B^ag in them.
Now pray don't go as you did in the last, and alter them by insar-
ten here and there what you call ' Americanisms,' so as to make it
more in character, and uniform ; that is going to t'other extreme,
for I can write as pure English, if I can't speak it, as anybody can.*
My education wamt a college one, like my brothers, Eldad's and
Josiah's, the doctor and lawyer ; but it was not neglected for all
that. Dear old Minister was a scholar, every inch of him, and
took great pains with me in my themes, letters and composition.

* Sam,' he used to say, ' there are four things needed to write well :
first, master the language grammatically ; second, master your sub>
ject ; third, write naturally ; fourth, let your heart as well as your
huid guide the pen. It aint out of keeping, therefore, for me to
express myself decently in composition if I choose. It wamt out

* The reader will perceive from a perusal of this Journal, that Mr. Slick, who
is always so ready to detect absurdity in others, has in this instance exhibited a
species of vanity by no means uncommon in this world. He prides himself
more on composition to which he has but small pretensions, than on those things
for which the public is willing enough to give him full credit. Had he, how-
ever, received a classical education, it may well be doubted whether he would
have been as useful or successful a man as President of Yale College, as hid has
been as an itinerant practical Clockmaker.

.i»

▲ 6UBPBI8B.

of diaractor with Franklin, and he was a poor printer boy, nor
Washington, and he was only a land-surveyor, and they growed to
be * some punkins' too.

** An American dockmaker aint like a European one. He may
not be as good a workman as t'other one, but he can do somethin'
else besides makin' wheels and pulleys. One always looks forward
to rise in the world, the other to attain excellence in his line. I
am, as I have expressed it in some part of this Journal, not
ashamed of having been a tradesman — I glory in it ; but I should
indeed have been ashamed, if, with the instruction I received from
dear old Minister, I had always remained one. No, don't alter my
Journal. I am just what I am, and nothing more or less. You
can't measure me by English standards ; you mv«t take an Ameri-
can one, and that will give you my length, breadth, height and
weight to a hair. If silly people take you for me, and put my
bri^gin' on your shoulders, why jist say, ' You might be mistakened
for a worse fellow than he is, that's alL' Yes, yes, let my talk
^main 'down-east talk,'* and my writin' remain clear of cant
terms when you find it so. , , , i;^u.

" I like Yankee words — I learned them when young. Father
and mother used them, and so did all the old folks to Slickville.
There is both fun, sense and expression in 'em too, and that is more
than there is in Taffy's, Pat's, or Sawney's brogue either. The one
enriches and enlarges the vocabulary, the other is nothing but
broken English, and so confoundedly broken too, you can't put the
pieces together sometimes. Again, my writing, when 1 freeze
down solid to it, is just as much In character as the other.
Kecollect this. Every woman in our country who has a son, knows
that he may, and thinks that he will, become President of the
United States, and that thought and ^that chance make that boy
superior to any of his class in Europe.

" And now. Squire," said he, " I believe there has been enough
said about myself and my Journal. Sppsen we drink success to
the * human nature,' or ' men and things,' or whatever other name
you select for this Journal, and then we will talk of something
else."

'* I will drink that toast," I said, "with all my heart, and now let
me ask you how you have succeeded in your mission about the
fisheries 1"

* It must not be inferred from this ei^presBion that Mr. Slick's talk is all
** pure down-east dialect." The intermixture of Americans is now so great, in
consequence of their steamers and railroads, that there is but little pure pro*
▼incialism left. They have borrowed from each other in diflferent sections most
liberally, and not only has the vocabulaiy of the south and west contributed its
phraseology to New England, but there is recently an affectation, in conse-
quence of the Mexican war, to naturalise Spanish words, some of which Mr.
Slick, who delights in this sort of thing, has introduced into thii Journal.— Ed.

JL SVBPBIBB.

,» c

boy, nor
^owed to

Ho may
somethin*
^s forward
Is line. I
urnal, not
it I should
(ived from
t alter my
less. You
an Ameri-
leight and
4 put my
mistakened
it my talk
ar of cant

g. Father

Slickville.

bat is more

', The one

othing but

in't put the

m 1 freeze

the other.

son, knows

ent of the

ce that boy

een enough
success to

)ther name
something

md now let
about the

;k'8 talk is all
17 BO great, in
ttle pure pro*
sections roost
ontributed its
,on, in conse-
of which Mr.
JouxnaL^— £o>

t ( ^ First rate,^' he replied ; " we have them now, and no mistake !**

* «* By the treaty ?" l inquired.

** No," he said, " I have discovered the dodge, and we shall avail
of it at once. By a recent local law, foreigners can hold real
estate in this province now« And by « recent Act of Parliament
our vessels can obtain Britii^ registers. Between these two
privileges, a man don't deserve to be called an American who
can't carry <m the fisheries in i^ite of all the cruisers, revenue
officers, and prohibitary laws under the sun. It is a peaceable and
quiet way of getting possession, and &r better Uian f^hting for
tnem, while it comports more with die dignity of our great and
enlightened nation.^'

'* What do you think," I said, "of the Sigui treaty as a baf>-

After. fpme heslf<ation, he looked up and smiled. : ini:vin.>i
m ^V!^<0 <^'t txymplain," said he. "As usual,^ we have got hold
of the rigik eend of the rope, and got a vast deal more ^lan we
. fpcpected* The truth is, the Engliah are so fond of trade, and so
afraid of war, if we will only give them cotton and flour at a fair
!price, and take <lieir manufactures in return, we can bully them
into any thin' almost. It is a positive fact, there were fifty deserters
from th^^i^ritish army taken off of the wreck of the * San Fran-
cisco,' aisl' carried to England. John Bull pretended to wink at
it, hired a steamer, and sent them all out again to us. Lord !
how our folks roared when tjiey heard it ; and as for the Presi-
dent, he laughed like a hyena over a dead nigger. Law sakes
alive, man ! Make a question between our nation and England
about fifty deserters, and if the ministers of the day only dared to
talk of fighting, the members of all the manu&ctoren towns in
England, the cottonocracy of Great Britain, would desert too !

" It's nateral, as an American, I should be satisfied with the
treiU;y ; but I'll tell you what lam sorry for. I am grieved we
asked, or your Qovemor-General granted, a right to us to land on
these sfiorc!^ and paake our fish. Ix>rd Elgin ought to have known
that every foot of the sea-coast of Nova Scotia has been granted,
and is now private property.

" To oohoede a privilege to land, with a proviso to respect the
rights of the owner, i^ nonsense. This comeis of not sending a
man to n^tiate who is chosen by the people, not for his rank,
but for his ability and knowledge. The wit is, I take blame to
myself about it, for I was pumped who would do best, and be
most acceptable to us Aniericans. I was afeared they would send
a Billingsgate odntractor, who is a plai^y sight more posted up
about fisheries than any member of parliament, or a clever colonist,
(not a^rty-man^ and they know more than both the others put
together ; and I dreaded if they sent either, there would be a quid

-Id '

•VBPBI0X«

■

pro quo, fts Josiah says, to l)e given, afore we got the fisheries, if
we ever got them at all. * So,* sais }, out of a bit of fan, for I
can^t help taken a rise out of folks no how I can fix it, *send us a
lord. We are mighty fond of noblemen to Washington, and
toady them first-rate. It will please such a man as Pierce to show
him so much respect as to send a peer to him. He will get what*
ever he asks.*

" Well, they fell into the trap beautiful. They sent us one, and
we rowed him up to the very head-waters of Salt Biver in no
time.^ But I am sorry we asked the privilege to land and cure
fish. I didn't think any <»'eated critter would have granted that.
Tes, I foresee trouble arising out 6! this. Suppose * Cayenne
Pepper,* as we call the captain that commanded the * Cayenne* at
Grey Town, was to come to a port in Nova Scotia, and pepper it
for insultin* our flag by apprehenden trespassers (though how a
constable is to arrest a crew of twenty men, unless, Irishman-like,
he surrounds them, is a mystery to me). What would be done in
that case ? Neither you nor I can tell, Squire. But depend upon
it, there is a tempestical time comin*, and it is as well to be on
the safe side of the fence when there is a chance of kicking going on.

^ The bombardment of Grey Town was the greatest and bravesi
exploit of modem times. We silenced their guns at the first
broadside, and shut them up so sudden that envious folks, like the
British, now swear they had none, while we lost only one man in
the engagement, but be was drunk and fell overboard. What is the
cannonade of Sebastopool to that 1 Why it sinks into insignificance."

'He had hardly ceased speaking, when the wheels of a earriace
were heard rapidly approaching the door. Taking out his watch,
and observing the hour, he said : " Squire, it is now eleven o'clock.
I must be a movin*. Good-bye! I am off to Halifax. I am
goin* to make a night flight of it. The wind is fair, and I must
sail by daylight to-morrow morning. Farewell !'*

He then shook hands most cordially with me, and said ; "Squire,
unless you feel inclined at some future day to make the tour of the
States with me, or somethin* turns up, I am not availed of, I am
afraid you have seen the last journal of your old fnend, * Sam Slick.* ^

* To row up Salt RiTer is a common phrase, used generally to denote politi-
cal defeat. The distance to which a party is rowed up Salt River, depends
entirely upon the magnitude of the majority against him. If the defeat is
overwhelming, the unsuccessful party is said **to he rowed up to tue very head-
waters of Salt River." The phrase has its origin in the fact that there is a
small stream of that name in Kentucky, the passage of which is made dilHicuU
and laborious, as wdl by its tortuous course as by numerous shallows and bars.
The real application oS the phrase is to the unhappy wight who propyls th«
boat, but politically, in slang usage, it means the man rowed up, the passenger.
—I. iHMAir. ■,.?

((

fisheries, if

* fun, for I

* send us a
Qgton, and
'ce to show

I get what-

is one, and
liver in no
d and cure
anted that
* Cayenne
liEtyenne* at
[ pepper it
ugh how a
shman-like,
be done in
epend upon

II to be on
ig going 00.
and bravesi
It the first
Iks, like the
one man in
What is the
ignificance.^'
f a carriage
[t his watch,
ven o'clock,
[fax. I am
and I must

d; "Squire,
> tour of the
led of, I am
Jam Slick.'"

) denote politi-
liver, depends

the defeat is
tlie very head-
liat there is a

made difficult
lows and bars.
10 propf is the
the passenger.

CLIPPEBB AKD STSA1CBX8.

• :r"-^T-[-^f'

CHAPTER II.
CLIPPERS AND STEAMERS.

Whoeyeb has taken the trouble to read the ** Wise Saws'* of
Mr. Slick, will be prepared to resume the thread of his narrative
without explanation, if, indeed, these unconnected selections deserve
the appellation. But as this work may fall into the hands of many
people, who never saw its predecessor, it may be necessary ta
premise that our old friend Sam, having received a conmiission
from the President of the United States to visit the coast of Nova
Scotia, and report to him fully on the state of the fisheries, their
extent and value, the manner in which they were prosecuted, and
the best mode of obtaining a participation in them, he proceeded
on his cruise in a trading-vessel, called the " Black Hawk," where-
of Timothy Cutler was master, and Mr. Eldad Nickerson the
pilot. The preceding volume contained his adventures at sea, and
in the harbors of the province, to the westward of Halifax. The
present work is devoted to his remarks on " Nature uid Human
Nature."

While amusing himself fishing within three miles of the coast,
off La Haive, in contravention of the treaty, he narrowly escaped
capture by the British cruizer "Spitfire," commanded by Cap-
tain Stoker. By a skilful manoeuvre, he decoyed the man-of-war,
in the eagerness of the chase, on to a sand-bar, when he dexter-
ously slipt through a narrow passage between two islands, and
keeping one of them in a line between the " Black Hawk " and her
pursuer, so as to be out of the reach of her guns, he steered for the
eastern shore of Nova Scotia, and was soon out of sight of the Isl-
ands behind which his enemy lay embedded in the sand ; firom
this point the narrative is resumed in Mr. Slick's own words.*

" I guess," said I, " Captain, the * Spitfire ' will have to put into
Halifax to report herself, and be surveyed, so we may pursue our
course in peace. But this 'Black Hawk' is a doll, ain't she?
don't she skim over the water like a sea gull ? The truth is. Cut-
ler, when you aint in a hurry, and want to enjoy yourself at sea,
as I always do, for I am a grand sailor, give me a clipper. She is
so light and buoyant, and the motion so elastic, it actilly exilerates
your spirits. There is something like life in her gait, and you

* His remarks on the fisheries I have wholly omitted, for they have now lost
their interest. His observations on *' Nature and Hmnan Nature " are alone
retained, as they may be said to have a universal application.— £d.

OLIPPKBB AND STEAICEBS,

I 1

' have her in hand like a horse, and you feel as if you were her mas-
ter, and directed her movements. I nin't sure you don't seem as
if you were part of her yourself. Then there is room to show

' skill and seamanship, and if you don't in reality go as quick as a
steamer, you seem to go faster, if there is no visible object to mea-
sure your speed by, and that is something, for the white foam on
the leeward side rushes by you in rips, raps, and rainbows, like

^Canadian rapids.

**Tfaen if she is an atrysilly * like this, and she is doing her pret-
tiest, and actilly laughs again, she is so pleased, why you are sat-

' isfied, for you don't make the breeze, you take it as you lind it,

* like all other good gifbs of Providence, and say, * ain't she going
like wink, how she forges ahead, don't she ? ' Your attention is
kept alive, too, watchin' the wind, and trimmin' sail to it accord-
ingly, and the jolly * Oh, heave oh,' of the sailors is music one
loves to listen to, and if you wish to take a stretch for it in your
doak on deck, on the sunny or shady side of the companion-way,
the Inreeze whistles a nice soft lullaby fur you, and you are off in
the land of Nod in no time."

" Ih-eaming of Sophy CoUingwood,'* sais the Captain, " and the
witch of Eskisooney, eh 1 "

**Ye8, dreamin' of bright eyes and smilin' faces, or anythin*
else that's near and dear, for to my idea, the heart gives the sub-
ject for the head to think upon. In a fair wind, and a charmin*
day like this, I never coiled up on the deck for a nap in my life,
that I hadn't pleasant dreams. You feel as if you were at peace
vith all the world in general, and yourself in partikeler, and that
it is very polite of folks to stay to home ashore, and let you and
yonr friends enjoy yourselves without treadin' on your toes, and
wakin* of you up, if asleep, or a jostlin' of you in your turn on
the quarter-deck, or overhearin' your conversation.

" And ain't you always ready for your meals, and don't you
walk into them in rael right down earnest ? Oh, nothing ever
tastes so good to me as it does at sea. The appetite, like a sharp
knife, makes the meat seem tender, and the sea air is a great friend
of digestion, and always keeps company with it. Then you don't
care to sit and drink aiter dinner as you do at an hotel of an idle
day, for you want to go on deck, light your cigar, take a sweep round
liie horizon with your glass, to see if there is any sail in sight,
glance at the sky to ascertain if the breeze is likely to hold, and
then bring yourself to anchor on a seat, and have a dish of chat for
a dessert with the Captain, if he is a man of books like you, Cut-

* The Atricilla, or langhing gea-gull. Its note resembles a coarse laugh*
Heftce its nanie. It is veiy common in the Bahamas.

■■•■vsil«.

OLIPPBBS AND 8TBA.MBB8.

Sft

rere her mas*
]on't seem as
)om to show
as quick as a
bject to mea-
hite foam on
ainbows, like

)ing her pret-
you are sat-

you find it,
I'fc she going

attention is
to it accord-
is music one
or it in your
npanion-way,
ou are off in

in, " and the

or anythui'
ives the sub-
i a charmin*
p in my life,
ere at peace
ler, and that
I let you and
>ur toes, and
our turn on

d don't you
nothing ever
like a sharp
. great friend
3n you don't
el of an idle
sweep round
)ail in sight,
to hold, and
h of' chat for
Ite you, Cut-

coarse laugh*

le^, or a man of reefs, rocks and sandbars, fish, cordwood and
smu|^lin', or collisions, wracks and salvage, like the pilot.

" Then, if you have a decent sample or two of passengers on
board, you can discuss men and things, women and nothings, law,
physiok and divinity, or that endless, tangled ball of yam, politicks,
or you can swap anecdotes, and make your fortune in the trade.
And by the same trail of thought we must give one or two of
these Blue-Noses now and then a cast on board with us to draw
them out. Well, if you want to read, you can go and turn in, and
take a book, and soUtudinise to it, and there is no one to disturb
you. I actilly learned French in a voyage to Calcutta, and Ger-
man on my way home. I got enough for common use. It wam't
all pure gold ; but it was kind of small change, and answered
every purpose of trade or travel. Oh, it's no use a talkin' ; where
time ain't the main object, there's nothing' like a sailin' vessel to a
man who ain't sea-sick, and such fellows ought to be clorifbrmed,
put to bed, and left there till the voyage is over. They have no
business to go to sea, if they are such fools a9. not to know how to
enjoy themselves. . :\'-u

" Then sailors are characters ; they are men of the world, there
is great self-reliance in them. They have to fight their w^ in life
through many trials and difficulties, and their trust is in God and
their own strong arm. They are so mudi in their own element,
they seem as if they were bom on the sea, cradled on its billows,
and like Mother Carey's chickens, delighted in its storms and
mountain waves. They walk, talk, and dress differently from lands-
men. They straddle as they pace the deck, so as to brace the
body, and keep their trowsers up at the same time ; their gait is
loose, and their dress loose, and their limbs loose ; indeed, they are
rather too fond of slack. They climb like monkeys, and depend
more on their paws than their legs. They tumble up, but never
down. They count, not by fingers, it is tedious, but by hands ;
they put a part for the whole, and call themselves hands, for they
are paid for the use of them, and not their heads.

'* Though they are two-handed, they are not close-fisted fellows.
They despise science, but are fond of practical knowledge. When
the sun is over the foreyard, they know the time of day as well
as the captain, and call for their grog, and wh^i they lay back their
heads, and turn up the bottom of the mug to the sky, they call it
in derision taking an observation. But though they have many
characteristics in common, there is an individuality in each that dis-
tinguishes him from the rest. He stands out in bold relief— I by
myself, I. He feels and appreciates his importance. He knows
no plural. The word ' our ' belongs to landsmen ; ' my ' is the sail-
or's phrase— my ship, my captain, my messmate, my watch on
de()k, * my eyes I ' * you lubber, don't you know that's me^* I like

OLIPPBBB AND BTBA1CBB8.

Vi 1 A

to liiten to their yarns, and their jokes, and to hear them sing their
simple ditties. The odd mixture of manliness and childishness —
of boldness and superstitious fears ; of preposterous claims for
wages and thoughtless extravagance ; of obedience and discontent,
all goes to make the queer compound called ' Jack.' How often
have I laughed over the fun of the forecastle in these small fore and
aft packets of oum ! and I think I would back that place for wit
against any bar-room in New York or New Orleans, and I believe
they take the rag off of all creation.

" But the cook is my favorite. He is a scientific man, and so
skilful in compounds, he generally goes by the name of doctor.
I lUce the daily consultation with him about dinner, not that I am
an epicure ; but at sea, as the business of life is eating, it is as
well to be master of one's calling. Indeed, it appears to be a law
of nature, that those who have mouths should understand what to
put in them. It gratifies the doctor to confer with him, and who
does it not please to be considered a man of importance 1 He is,
therefore, a member of the Privy Council, and a more useful
member he is too, than many Right Honorables I know of— who
have more acres than ideas. The Board assembles after breakfast,
and a new dish is a great item in the budget. It keeps people in
good humor the rest of the day, and affords topics for the table.
To eat to support existence is only fit for criminals. Bread and
water will do that ; but to support and gratify nature, at the same
time, is a noble effort of art, and well deserves the thanks of man-
kind. The cook, too, enlivens the consultation by telling marvel-
lous stories about strange dishes he has seen. He has eaten ser-
pents with the Siamese monkeys in the West Indies, crocodiles and
sloths in South America, and cats, rats, and dogs with the Chinese ;
and, of course, as nobody can contradict him, says they are deli-
cious. Like a salmon, you must give him the line even if it wea-
ries you, before you bag him ; but when you do bring him to land,
his dishes are savory. They have a relish that is peculiar to the
sea, for where there is no garden^ vegetables are always most prized.
The glorious onion is duly valued, for as there is no mistress to be
kissed, who will dare to object to its aroma?

" Then I like a Sunday at sea in a vessel like this, and a day like
this, when the men are all clean and tidy, and the bell rings for
prayers, and all hands are assembled aft, to listen to the captain as
he reads the Church Service. It seems like a family scene. It
reminds me of dear old Minister and days gone by, when he used
to call us round him, and repeated to us the promise * that when
two or three were gathered together in God's name, he would
grant their request.' The only difference is, sailors are more Bttm-
tive and devout than landsmen. They seem more conscious that
tiiey are in the Divine presence. They have little to look upon

tn sing their
Idishness—
claims for
discontent,
How often
all fore and
lace for wit
d I believe

lan, and so

of doctor.

b that I am

ng, it is as

be a law
nd what to
, and who
i1 He is,
ore useiiil
r of— who
breakfast,

1 people in
the table.
Bread and
) the same
B of man-
g marvel-
eaten ser-
>diles and

Chinese ;

are deli-

if it wea-
to land,
ar to the
t prized,
ess to be

day like
rings for
iptainas
lene. It
he used
at when
3 would
re atten-
>us that
>kiip9n

OLIPPBBS AHD STBAMSB8. Si

but the heavens above and the boundless ocean around them.
Both seem made on purpose for M«m— the sun to guide them by
day, and the stars by night, the sea to bear theiii on its bosom, and
the breeze to wafl them on their course. They feel how powerless
they are of themselves ; how frail their bark ; how dependent they
are on the goodness and mercy of their Creator, and that it is He
alone who can rule the tempest and control the stormy deep.
Their impressions are few, but they are strong. It is the world
that hardens the heart, and the ocean seems apart from it.

" They are noble fellows, sailors, and I love them ; but, Cutler, '
how are they used, especially where they ought to be treated best,
on board of men-of-war 1 The moment a ship arrives in port, the
anchor cast and the sails furled— what does the Captain do? the
popular Captain, too, the idol of the men ; he who is so kind, and
so fond of them ? Why, he calls them aft, and says, ' Here, my
lads, here is lots of cash for you, now be off ashore and enjoy
yourselves.' And they give three cheers for thejr noble com-
mander—their good-hearted officer— the sailor's friend— the jolly
old blue jacket, and they bundle into the boats, and on to the
beach, like school-boys. And where do they go 1 Well, we won't
follow them, for I never was in them places where they do go, and
so I can't describe them, and one thing I must say, I never yet
found any place answer the picture drawn of it. But if half only
of the accounts are true that I have heerd of them, they must be
the devil's own seminaries of vice— that's a fact. Every mite and
morsel as bad as the barrack scenes that we read of latelv.

" Well, at the end of a week, back come the sailors. They
have had a glorious lark and enjoyed themselves beyond anything
in the world, for they are pale, sick, sleepy, tired out, cleaned out,
and kicked out, with black eyes, broken heads, swelled cheeks,
minus a few teeth, half their clothes, and all their money.

" * What,' says the Captain, * what's the matter with you, Tom
Marlin, that you limp so like a lame duck V r<

" ' Nothing, your honor,' says Tom, twitching his forelock, and
making a scrape with his hind leg, * nothing, your honor, but a
scratch from a bagganet.'

" * What ! a fight with the soldiers, eh ? The cowardly rascals
to use their side-arms ! '

" We cleared the house of them. Sir, in no time.'

" * That's right. Now go below, my lads, and turn in, and get a
good sleep. I like to see my lambs enjoy themselves. It does my
heart good.'

" And yet, Cutler, that man is said to be a father to his crew."

" Slick," said Cutler, " what a pity it is you wouldn't always talk
that way ! Now if there is any created thing that makes me mad,
it ui to haVe a feller look admiren at me, when I utter a piece of plain

OllFPEBS AITD STEAMBBS.

common sense like that, and tarn up the whites of his ejes like a
duck in thunder, as much as to say, what a pity it is you weren't
broughten up a preacher. It ryles me considerable, I tell you."

*' Cutler," I said, " did you ever see a colt in a pasture, how he
would race and chase round the field, head, ears and tail up, and
stop short, snort as if he had seen the ghost of a bridle, and off
again hot foot 1 "

" Yes," said he, " I have ; but you are not a colt, nor a boy
either."

" Well, did you ever see a horse when unharnessed from a little
light wagon,. and turned out to grass, do nearly the same identical
thing, and kick up his heels like mad, as much as to say, I am a
free nigger now 1 "

" Well, I have," said he.

" Stop," said I, a touchin* of him on his arm ; " what in the
world is that ?" and I pointed over the taffrail to the weather-bow,

" Porpoises," said he.

" What are they a doin' ofi" ^,

" Sportin' of themselves."

" Exactly," sais I, " and do you place man below the beasts of
the field, and the fishes of the sea 1 What in natur* was humor
given to us for, but for our divarsioni ,What sort of a world
would this be if every fellow spoke sermons and talked homilies,
and what in that case would parsons do ? I leave you to cypher
that out, and then prove it by algebra ; but I'll tell you what they
Wouldn't do, I'll be hanged if they'd strike for higher wages, for
fear they should not get any at all."

" I knock under," said he ; " you may take my hat ; now go on
and finish the comparison between Clippers and Steamers."

" Well," sais I, " as I w«b a sayin'. Captain, give me a crafk like
this, that spreads its wings like a bird, and looks as if it was born,
not made, a whole-sail breeze, and a seaman every inch of him like
you on the deck, who looks you in the face, in a way as if he'd
like to say, only Ijragging ain't genteel, ain't she a clipper now,
and ain't I the man to handle her ? Now this ain't the case in a
steamer. They ain't vessels, they are more like floating factories ;
you see the steam machines and the enormous fires, and the clouds
of siAoke, but you don't visit the rooms where the looms are, that's
all. They plough through the sea dead and heavy, like a subsoiler
with its eight horse team ; there is no life in 'em ; they can't dance
on^'the waters as if they rejoiced in their course, but divide the
waves as a rock does in a river ; they seem to move more in defi-
ance of the sea, than as if they wore in an element of their own.

" They puff and blow like boasters braggin' that they extract
from the ocean the means to make it help to subdue itself. It is a
war of the elements) fire and water contendin' for victory. They

are

the

thatl

goe(

dev^

bes

mei

ittc

OLIPFEBB AND STSAaCBBS.

eyes like a
you weren't
ell you."
ire, how he

ail up, and
Ue, and off

nor a boy

•om a little
^e identical
ay, I am a

lafc in the
ither-bow.

beasts of
is humor
'a world
homilies,
to cypher
^hat they
rages, for

'^go on

raft like
as born,
him like
3 if he'd
er now,
iase in a
ctories ;
3 clouds
e, that's
ibsoiler
't dance
ide the
in defi-
own.
extract
It is a

They

are black, dmgy, forbiddin' looking sea monsters. It is no vondex'
the superstitious Spaniard, when he first saw one, said : * A vessel
that goes against the tide, and against the wind, and without sails,
goes against God,' or that the simple negro thought it was a sea
devil. They are very well for carrying freight, because they are
beasts of burden, but not for carrying travellers, unless they are
mere birds of passage like our Yankee tourists, who want to have
it to say I was ' ihar.'' I hate them. The decks are dirty ; your
skin and clothes are dirty ; and your lungs become foul ; smoke
pervades everythin', and now and then the condensation gives you
a shower of sooty water by way of variety, that scalds your face,
and dyes your coat into a sort of pepper-and-salt color.

" You miss the sailors, too. There are none on board — you misa
the nice light, tight-built, lathy, wiry, active, neat joUy crew. In
their place you have nasty, dirty, horrid stokers ; some hoisting
hot cinders, and throwing them overboard, (not with the merry
countenances of niggers, or the cheerful sway-away-my-boys
expression of the Jack Tar, but with sour, cameronean-lookin'
faces, that seem as if they were dreadfully disappointed they were
not persecuted any longer — had no churches and altars to desecrate,
and no bishops to anoint with the oil of hill-side maledictions as of
old) while others are emerging from the fiery furnaces beneath for
fresh air, and wipe a hot, dirty face with a still dirtier shirt sleeve,
and in return for the nauseous exudation, lay on a fresh coat of
blacking, tall, gaunt wretches, who pant for breath as they snuff
the fresh breeze, like porpouses, and then dive again into the lower
regions. They are neither seamen nor landsmen, good whips, nor
decent shots, their hair is not woolly enough for niggers, and their
faces are too black for white men. They ain't amphibious animals,
like marines, and otters. They are Salamanders. But that's a
long word, and now they call them stokers for shortness.

" Then steamers carry a mob, and I detest mobs, especially such
ones as they delight in — greasy Jews, hairy Germans, Mulatto-
looking Italians, squalling children, that run between your legs and
throw you down, or wipe the butter off their bread on your clothes j
Englishmen that will grumble, and Irishmen that will fight ; priests
that won't talk, and preachers that will harangue ; women that will
be carried about, because they won't lie still and be quiet; silk
men, cotton men, bonnet men, iron men, trinket men, and every
sort of shopmen, who severally know nothing in the world but
silk, cotton, bonnets, iron, trinkets, and so on, and can't talk of ai|y-
thin' else ; fellows who walk up and down the deck, four or five •
abreast when there are four or five of the same craft on board, and
prevent any one else from promenadin', by sweepin' the whole
space, while every lurch the ship gives, one of them tumbles atop
of you, or treads on your toes, and then, instead of apologisin ,

»ip\.

. '

0LIPFEB8 AND BTEAMEB8.

turns round and abuses you like a pick-pocket for stickin* your feet
out and trippin' people up. Thinkin' is out of the question, and as
for readin', you might as well read your fortune in the stars.

"Just as you begin, that lovely -lookin', rosy-cheeked, wicked-
eyed gall, that came on board so full of health and spirits, but now
looks like a faded, striped ribbon, white, yeller, pink, and brown —
dappled all over her face, but her nose, which has a red spot on it
— ^lifls up a pair of lack-lustre peepers that look glazed like the
round, dull ground glass lights let into the deck, suddenly wakes
up squeamish, and says, * Please, Sir, help me down ; I feel so ill.'
Well, you take her up in your arms, and for the first time in your
life, hold her head from you, for fear she will reward you in a way
that ain't no matter, and she feels as soft as dough, and it seems as
if your fingers left dents in her putty-like arms, and you carry her
to the head of the stairs, and call out for the stewardess, and a
waiter answers, " Stewardess is tight. Sir.'

" ' I am glad of it, she is just the person I want. I wish all the
other passengers were tight also.'

" * Lord, Sir, that ain't it — she is mops and brooms.' *'

" * Mops and brooms, I suppose she is, she must have plenty use
for them, I reckon, to keep all snug and tidy down there.'

" Good gracious, Sir, don't you understand, she is half seas
over.*

"'True, so we all are, the captain said so to-day at twelve
o'clock. I wish we were over altogether. Send her up.'

" 'No, no, Sir, she is more than half shaved.' ' -^

" ' The devil ! does she shave ? I dcwi't believe she is a woman
at all. I see how it is, you have been putting one of the sailors
into petticoats.' And the idea makes even the invalid gall laugh.

" No, no. Sir, she is tipsy,'

" ' Then why the plague couldn't you say so at once. I guesa
you kmder pride yourself in your slang. Help me to assist this
lady down to her friends.*

" Well, when you return on deck, lo and behold, your seat is
occupied, and you must go and stand by the rail till one is vacant,
when another gall that ain't ill, but inconveniently well, she is so
full of chat, says, ' Look, look, Sir, dear me, what is that. Sir 1 a
porpoise. Why you dwi't, did you ever 1 well, I never see a por-
poise afore in all my born days ! are they good to eat, Sir 1 '

" ' Excellent food for whales, Miss.'

« i Well I never ! do they swallow them right down ? '

*' ' I guess they do, tank, shank and flank, at one gulp.'

" * Why how in the world do they ever get — ' but she don't
finish the sentence, for the silk man, cotton man, iron man or trin-
ket man, whichever is nearest, says, ' There is a ship on the }ee-

bo|

dij

is
buj

no^

■*

i| your feet
;ion, and as
itars.

id, wicked-
fcs, but now
i brown —
spot on it
d like the
nly wakes
feel so ill.'
fie in your
I in a way
t seems as
carry her
ess, and a

sh all the

)lenty us©
half seas
it twelve

a woman
le sailors
1 laugh.

I guess
isisi this

seat is
s vacant,
the is so
.Sir'i a
!e a por-

He don*t
or trin-
tho jie^

OLIPPBBS AMD 8TEAMBB8.

bow.* He says that because it sounds sailor-like, but it happens
to be the weather-bow, and you have seen her an hour before.

" ' Can you make her out ? ' sais he, that's another sea tarm he
has picked up ; he will talk like a horse-marine at last.

" ' Yes,' sais you, ' she is a Quang-Tonger.' -- - '-

" ' A Quang-Tonger 1 ' sais the gall, and before the old coon has
digested that hard word, she asks, ' what in natur is that ? *

" * Why, Miss, Quang-Tong is a province of China, and Canton
is the capital ; all the vessels at Canton are called Quang-TongerS)
but strangers call them Chinese Junks. *' ?

" Now, Miss, you have seen two new things to-day, a bottled
nosed porpoise and — '

" ' Was that a bottle-nosed porpoise, Sir 1 why you don't say
so ! why, how you talk, why do they call them bottle-noses 1 '

" Because, Miss, they make what is called velvet corks out of
their snouts. They are reckoned the best corks in the world, and
then, ' you have seen a Chinese Junk ?

" ' A Chinese Junk,' sais the astonished trinket man, * well I
vow I ' ' a Chinese Junk, do tell ! ' and one gall calls Jeremiah
Dodge, and the other her father and her sister, Mary Anne Matilda
Jane, to come and see the Chinese Junk, and all the passengers
rush to the other side, and say ; ' whare whare,' and the two discov-
erers say : ' there there ' and you walk across the deck and take
one of the evacuated seats you have been longin' for ; and as you
pass, you give a wink to the officer of the deck, who puts his
tongue in his cheek as a token of approbation, and you begin to
r^ again, as you fancy, in peace.

" But, there is no peace in a steamer, it is nothin' but a large
calaboose,* chock full of prisoners. As soon as you have found
your place in the book, and taken a fresh departure, the bonnet man
sais, * please, sir, a seat for a lady,' and you have to get up and ^
give it to his wife's lady's-maid. His wife ain't a lady, but havingf^
a lady's maid, shows she intends to set up for one when she gets to
home. To be a lady, she must lay in a lot of airs, and to brush
her own hair, and garter her own stockins, is vulgar ; if it was
known in first Avenue, Spruce-street, in Bonnetville, it would
ruin her as a woman of fashion, forever.

" Now, bonnet man wouldn't ask vou to get up and give your
place to his wife's hired help, only he Icnows you are a Yankee, and
we Yankees, I must say, are regularly fooled with women and
preachers ; just as much as that walking advertisement of a mili-
ner is with her lady's-maid. All over America in rail carriages,
stage coaches, river steamers and public places of all sorts, every
critter that wears a white choker, and looks like a minister, has

.f^

* Calaboose is k Southern name for jail.

,«.v„

!:'i i9

I i

0LIPFBB8 AND 8TBAMSBS.

He best seat given him. He expects it, as a matter of course, and
as every female is a lady, every woman has a right to ask you
to quit, without notice, for her accommodation. Now, it's all very
well, and very proper to be respectful to preachers ; and to be
polite and courteous to women, and more especially those that
are unprotected, but there is a limit, tother side of which lies
absurdity.

" Now, if you had seen as much of the world as I have, and
many other travelled Yankees, when bonnet man asked you to
give up your seat to the maid, you would have pretended not to
understand English, and not to know what he wanted, but would
have answered him in French and offered him the book, and said
certainly you would give it to him with pleasure, and when he said
he didn t speak French, but what he desired, was your place for
the lady, you would have addressed her in German, and offered
her the book, and when they looked at each other, and laughed at
their blunder, in thus taking you for a Yankee, perhaps the man
next to you would have offered his seat, and then when old bonnet
man walked off to look at the Chinese Junk, you would have
entered into conversation with the ^ady's maid, and told her it was
a rise you took out of the old fellow to get her along side of you,
and sne would enjoy the joke, and you would have found her a
thousand times more handsome, and more conversational and
agreeable than her mistress.

*' But this wouldn't last long, for the sick gall would be carried
up on deck agin, woman like, though ill, very restless, and ch(^
full of curiosity to see the Chinese Junk also ; so you are caugR^
by your own bam, and havo to move again once rucre. The bell
comes in aid, and summons you to dinner. Ah, the scene in the
Tower of Babel is rehearsed ! what a conflision of tongues ! what a
clatter of knives and forks and dishes ! the waiter that goes and
won't come back ; and he who sees, pities but can't help you *, and
he who is so near aiffhted, he can't hear ; and he who is inter-
Oi^ted, and made prisoner on his way.

"^ What a profusion of viands — but how little to eat ! this is
cold; that underdone; this is tough; that you never eat; while
all smell oily, oh, the only dish you did fancy, you can't touch, for
that horrid German has put his hand into it. But it is all told in
one short sentence ; two hundred and fifty passengers supply two
hundred and fifty reasons themselves, why I should prefer a sailing
vessel with a small party to a crowded steamer, if you want to
see them in perfbction, go where I have been it on board the Cali<-
fbrnia boats and Mississippi river crafts. The French, Austrian
and Italian boats are as bad. The two great Ocean lines, Ameri>
can and English are as good as anything bad can be, but the others
are all abominable* They tu'e small worlds over-crowded, and

mi
in

OLIPPEBS AND STEAMERS.

mrse, and
> ask you
3 all very
md to be
hose that
rhich lies

have, and
d you to
ed not to
ut would
, and said
in he said
place for
d offered
kUghed at
the man
Id bonnet
•wld have
ler it was
e of you,
nd her a
onal and

e carried
ad oh(^
'e caugm
The bell
le in the
! what a
^es and
ou; and
is inter-

! this is
t; while
ouch, for
1 told in
)ply two
a sailing

want to
the Cali^
Austrian

Amcri*
10 others
ed, and

while these small worlds exist, the evil will remain ; for alas, their
passengers go backward and forward, they don't emigrate — ^they
migrate ; they go for the winter and return for the spring, or go
in the spring and return in the fall.

" Come, Commodore, there is old Sorrow ringing his merry bell
for us to go to dinner. I have an idea we shall have ample
room; a good appetite, and time enough to eat and* enjoy it;
come sir, let us, like true Americans, never refuse to go where
duty calls us."

After dinner. Cutler reverted to the conversation we had had
before we went below, though I don't know that I should call it
conversation either ; for I believe I did, as usual, most of the talk-
ing myself.

" ' I agree with you,* said he, * in your comparative estimate of
a sailing vessel and a steamer ; I like the former the best myselfl j
It is more agreeable for the reasons you have stated to a passenger,
but it is still more agreeable to the officer in command of her on
another account. In a sailing vessel, all your work is on deck,
everything is before you, and everybody under your command.
One glance of a seaman's eye is sufficient to detect if anything is
amiss, and no one man is indispensable to you. In a steamer tHe
work is all below, the machinery is out of your sight, complicated,
and one part dependent on another. If it gets out of order, you
are brought up with a round turn, all standing, and often in a
critical situation too. You can't repair damage easily ; sometimes
can't repair at all.

fP^ Whereas carrying away a sail, a spar, a topmast, or anything
of that kind, impedes, but don't stop you, and if it is anything
very serious, there are a thousand ways of making a temporary
rig that will answer till you make a port. But what I like best is,
when my ship is in the daldrums, I am equal to the emergency ;
there is no engineer to bother you by saying, this can't be done,
or that won't do, and to stand jawing and arguing instead of obey-
ing and doing. Clippers of the right lines, size and build, wi^.
found, manned and commanded, will make nearly as good wprkV
in ordinary times, as steamers. Perhaps it is prejudice though,
for I believe we sailors are proverbial for that. But, Slick, recol-
lect it ain't all fair weather sailing like this at sea. There are
times when death stares you wildly in the face.*

"' Exactly," sals I, 'as if he would like to know you the next
time he came for you, so as not to apprehend the wrong one. He
often leaves the rascal and seizes the honest man ; my opinion is,
he don't see very well.'

" * What a droll fellow you are,* said he ; * it appears to me as if
you couldn't be serious for five minutes at a time. I can tell you,
if you were on a rocky lea-shore, with the wind and waves urging

CLIFFXBB AVD BTEAKEBB.

iHi'H

you on, and you barely holding your own, perhaps losing ground
every tack, you wouldn't talk quite so gUkly of death. Was you
ever in a real heavy gale of wind V >*

«< < Wam*t I,' said I ; 'the fust time I returned from England, it
blew great guns all the voyage, one gale after another, and the last
always wuss than the one before. It carried away our sails as fast
as we bent them.^

" * That's nothing unusual,* said Cutler ', ' there are worse things
than that at sea.'

" • Well, I'll tell you,' sais I, * what it did j and if that ain't an
uncommon thing, then my name aint Sam Slick. It blew all the
hair off my dog, except a little tuft atween his ears. It did, upon
my soul. I hope I may never leave "

" * Don't swear to it, Slick,' said he, * that's a good fellow. It's
impossible.' .,...,

" * Attestin' to it will make your hair stand on eend too, I sup.
pose,' said I ; ' but it's as true as preachin' for all that. What wUl
you bet it didn't happen V

"*Tut, man; nonsense,' said hej *I tell you the thing it im-
possible.' .w %,':i
. ***Ah!' said I, Uhat's because you have been lucky, and never
saw a riprorious hurricane in all your life. I'll tell you how it
was. I bought a blood-hound from a man in Begent's Park, just
afore I sailed, and the brute got searsick, and then took the mange,
and between that and death starin' him in the face, his hair all
came oflfj and in course it blew away. Is that impossible 1'

" * Well, well,' said he, * you have the most comical way w^
you of any man I ever see. I am sure it ain't in your nature to
speak of death in that careless manner ; you only talked that way
to draw me out. I know you did. It's not a subject, however, to
treat lightly ; and if you are not inclined to be serious just now^
tell us a story.'

" * SeriouB,' sais I, * I am disposed to be ; but not sanctimonious,
and you know that. But here goes for a story, which has a nice
little moral in it, too.

"# Once on a time, when pigs were swine, and turkeys chewed
tobacco, and little birds built their nests in old men's beards.'

" ' Pooh !' said he, turning off huffy-like, as if I was a goin' to
bluff him off. * I wonder whether supper is ready V

" ' Cutler,' sais I, ' come back, that's a good fellow, and I'll tell
you the story. It's a short one, and will just fill up the space be-
tween this and tea«time. It is in illustration of what you was a
sayin', that it ain't always fair weather sailing in this world.
There wai a jack-tar once to England who had been absent on a
whaling voyage for nearly three years, and he had hardly lapded
when he was ordered off to sea again, before he had time to go

ar
no

uNLOoxxiro A woman's hbabt.

ling ground
Was you

England, it
>nd the ]ast
lails as fast

orse things

it ain't an
ew all the
' did, upon

How. It's

too, I sup-
What wUl

ng is, im-

ind never
ou how it
Park, just
le mange,
I hair all
V

way w^
nature to
that way
wever, to
just now.

home and see his frien^. He was a lamentin* this to a shipmate
of his, a serious-mindeMpan, like you.

*' ' Sais he, * Bill, it n|eaketh my heart to have to leave agin
arter this fashion. I havn't seen Polly now goin' on three years,
nor the little un either.* And he actilly piped his eye.

" ' It seemcth hard, Tom,* said Bill, tryin' to comfort him — * it
seemeth hard ; but I'm an older man nor you be, Tom, the matter
of several years ;' and he gave his trowsers a twitch. (' You know
they don't wear galluses, though a gallus holds them up some-
times,') shifted his quid, gave his nor'wester a pull over his fore-
head, and looked solemncholly, ' and my experience, Tom, is, that
this life ainU all beer and skittles.^

" * Cutler, there is a great deal of philosophy in that maxim : a
preacher couldn't say as much in a sermon an hour long, as there
is in that little story with that little moral reflection at the eend
of it.

" *■ This life ain^t all beer and skittles,'' Many a time since I
heard that anecdote — and I heard it in Kew Gardens, of all places
in liie world — when I am disappointed sadly I say that saw over,
and console myself with it. I can't expect to go thro' the world,
Cutler, as I have done : stormy days, long and dark nights are be-
fore me.. As I grow old, I shan't be so full of animal spirits as I
have been. In the natur of things I must have my share of aches,
and pains, and disappointment, as well as others ; and when they
come, nothing will better help me to bear them than that little,
simple reflection of the sailor, which appeals so directly to the
heart. Sam, this life aint all beer and skittles^ that^s afact,^ "

momoug,
as a nice

1 chewed
•ds.'
goin' to

I'll tell
ipace be-
>u was a
( world,
ent on a
f landed
d to go

CHAPTER III.
UNLOCKING A WOMAN'S HEART.

*!,'.

iW^

As we approached the eastern coast, "Eldad," sais I, to the
pilot, " is there any harbor about here where our folks can do a
little bit of trade, and where I can see something of * Fishermen at
home."

" We must be careful now how we proceed, for if the ' Spitfire'
floats at the flood, Captain Stoker will try perhaps to overhaul us."

" Don't we want to wood and water, and aint there some repairs
wanting," sais I, and I gave him a wink. " If so we can put into
port ; but I don't think we will attempt to fish again within the
treaty limits, for it's dangerous work,'* ,. »,

air

usLOOKiiro A woman's hsabt.

" Yes,*' sais he, touching his nose ivith the point of his finger,
" all these things are needed, and when tl^are going on, the mate
and I can attend to the business of the olpers." He then looked
cautiously round to see that the Captain was not within hearing.

" Wam't it the < Black Hawk' that was chased?" said he. *< I
think that was our name then."

" Why, to be sure it was^" said I.

" Well," sais he, " this is the * Sary Ann,' of New Bedford,
now," and proceeding afb he turned a screw, and I could hear a
board shift in the stem.

" Do you mind that ?" said he : " well, you can't see it where
you stand just now, at present; but the 'Sary Ann' shows her
name there, now, and we have a set of papers to correspond. I
guess the Britisher can't seize her, because the ' Black Hawk' broke
the treaty ; can he ? " And he gave a knowing jupe of his head,
as much as to say, aint that grand ?

" Now, our new Captain is a straight-laced sort of man, you see ;
but the cantin fellow of a master you had on board before, wam't
above a dodge of this kind. If it comes to the scratch, you ipist
take the command again, for Cutler won't have art nor part in this
game ; and we may be v^formed out afore we know where we are."

" Well," sais I, " there is no occasion, I guess ; put us some-
where a little out of sight, and we won't break the treaty no more.
I reckon, the ' Spitfire,' afler all, would just as soon be in port as
looking after us. It's small potatoes for a man-of-war to be hunt-
ing poor game, like us little fore and afters."

" As you like," he said, " but we are prepared, you see, for thflf"^
mate and men understand the whole thing. It aint the first time
they have escaped by changing their sign-board."

" Exactly," said I, " a ship aint like a dog ; that can only answer
to one name, and • Sary Ann ' is as good as the * Black Hawk,'
every mite and morsel. There is a good deal of fun in altering
sign-boards. I recollect wunst, when I was a boy, there was a
firm to Slickville, who had this sign over their shop :

* Gallop and More,

Taylors.'

" Well, one Saturday-night, brother Josiah and I got a paint-
brush, and altered it this way :
»>.»->!-.,; ' Gallop and 8 More

Taylors . W :

Make a man.'

" Lord ! what a commotion it made ! Next day was Sunday ;
and as the folks were going to church, they stood and laughed, and
raved like anything. It made a terrible hulla-bulloo."

" ' Sam,' said minister to me, ' what in natur is all that ondecent
noise about, 90 near the church door I '

it (

just

C4I

• UNLOOKIRO ▲ WOHAn'I^ HXABT.

8»

" I told him. ' h 'WBSJhofft too much for him, but he bit in his
breath, and tried to loolflpive ; but I see a twinkle in his eye, and
the comer of his moutlnlwitch^ the way your eydid does aom^
times, when a nerve gets a dancing involuntarily. ^^ ■ . •-> '-

** ' A very foolish joke, Sam,' he said ; * it may get you into
trouble."

" * Why, minister,' said I, * I hope you don't think that — *

" * No,' said he, * I don't think at all, I know it was you, for it's
just like you. But it's a foolish joke ; for, Sam : ^^ ' r -r

- ' "' Honor and worth firoift no condition rise— * ■,

«*ExacUy,'sai8l, ,, , ,. , ,,^ „ , .^ . . ^

<*' Stitch well your part, there an the honor lies.'

*< ' Sam, Sam,' said he, ' you are a bad boy,' and he put on a
serious face, and went in and got his gown ready for service.

« The * Sary Ann,' for the * Black Hawk,' ''^ sais I to myself,
^ wtH'that aint bad either ; but there are more chests of tea and
kegs of brandy, and such like, taken right by the custom-house
door at Halifax in loads ot' bay and straw, then comes by water,
just because it is the onlikeliest way in the world any man would
do it. But it is only some of the Bay of Fundy boys that are up
to that dodge. Smugglers in general haven't the courage to do
that. Dear me !" sais I to myself, " when was there ever a law
tiiat couldn't be evaded ; a tax that couldn't be shufHed off like an
old slipper; a prohibition that a smuggler couldn't row right
straight through, or a treaty that hadn't more holes in it than a
dozen supplemental ones could patch up 1 It^s a high fence that
canH be sealed^ and a strong one that can't be broke down. When
there are accomplices in the house^ it is easier to get the door unlocked
than to force it. JReceivers make smugglers. Where there are not
inform£rSf penalties are dead letters. The people here like to see us,
for it is their interest, and we are safe, as long as they are friendly.
I don't want to smuggle, for I scorn such a pettifogin' business, as
Joriah would call it ; but I must and will see how the thing works,
so as to report it to the President."

" Well, Eldad," sais I, " I leave all this to you. I want to avoid
a scrape if I can, so put us in a place of safety, and be careful how
you proceed."

" I understand," said he. " Now, Mr. Slick, look yonder," point-
ing towards the shore. " What is that I"

" A large ship under full sail," said I, •* but it is curious she has
got the wind off shore, and just dead on end to us."

" Are you sure," said he, " it is a ship, for if we get foul of her
we shall be sunk in a moment, and every soiil on board perish."

tTNiiOOKxiro A woicak'b hbabt.

"Is it a cruiser?" sais I; "because if it is, steer boldly for her,

f iti
aif'

mj commission
' said I, " what is

as an
that

and I will go on board of her, and shi
officer of our everlastin' nation. Capt
stranger 1"

He paused for a moment, shaded his eyes with his hand, and
examined her. " A large, square-rigged vessel," he said, " under a
heavy press of canvas," and resumed his walk on the deck.
t After a while the pilot said : " Look again, Mr. Slick, can you
make her out now ?"

" Why," sais I, " she is only a brigantine; but ask the skipper."

He took his glass and scrutinized her closely, and as he replaced
it in the binnacle said : " We are going to have southerly weather
I think ; she loomed very large when 1 first saw her, and I took her
for a ship ; but now she seems to be an hermophrodite. It's of no
consequence to us, however, what she is, and we shall soon near
her."

*' Beyond that vessel," said the pilot, " there is a splendid har-
bor, and as there has been a head wind for some time, I have no
doubt there are many coasters in there, from the masters of "Vbom
you can obtain much useful information on the object of your visit,
while we can drive a profitable trade among them and the folks
ashore. How beautifully these harbors are situated," he continued,
" for carrying on the fisheries, and Nova Scotian though I be, I must
say, I do think, in any other part of the world there would be
large towns here."

" I think so too, Eldad," sais I, " but British legislation is at tl t
bottom of all your misfortunes, afler all, and though you are as
lazy as sloths, and as idle as that fellow old Blowhard saw, who lay
down on the grass all day to watch the vessels passing, and observe
the motion of the crows, the English, by breaking up your mono-
poly of inter-colonial and West India trade, and throwing it open
to us, not only without an equivalent, but in the face of our pro-
hibitory duties, are the cause of all your poverty and stagnation.
They are rich, and able to act like fools if they like in their own
affairs, but it was a cruel thing to sacrifice you, as they have done,
and deprive you of the only natural carrying trade and markets
you had. The more I think of it, the less I blame you. It is a
wicked mockery to lock men up, and then taunt them with want of
enterprise, and tell them they are idle."

" Look at that vessel again. Sir," said Eldad ; " she don't make
much headway, does she 1"

Well, I took the glass again and examined her minutely, and I
never was so stumpt in my life. ■ \ ..

" Pilot," said I, " is that the same vessel?"

" The identical," said he. *

*^I tow to man," sais I, " as I am a livin' sinner, that is neither

UNLOOXINO A woman's HBABT.

\y for her,
lion as an
lat is that

hand, and
" under a

ly can you

skipper.'*
e replaced
y weather
I took her

It's of no
soon near

mdid har-
I have no
I of libom
^our visit,
the folks
continued,
be, I must
would be

I is at tl t
)u are as
, who lay
i observe
ur mono-
g it open

our pro-
agnation.
;heir own
ive done,

markets
It is a

I want of

n't make
y, and I

I neither

» ship, nor a briganUbe, nor a hermophrodite, but a topsail
schooner, that's a fact. ^What in natur' is the meanin' of all this 1
Perhaps the Captain knows," so I called him again.

" Cutler, that vessel is transmografied again," sais I ; " look at
her."

'^ Pooh," said he, " that's not the same vessel at all. The two
first we saw are behind that island. That one is nothing but a
coaster. You can't take me in. Slick. You are always full of your
fun, and taking a rise out of some one or another, and I shall be
glad when we land, you will then have some one else to practice

>»

on.

In a short time the schooner vanished, and its place was supplied
by a remarkable white cliff, which from the extraordinary optical
delusion it occasions, gives its name to the noble port which is now
called Ship Harbor. I have since mentioned this subject to a
number of mariners, and have never yet heard of a person who
'\9,s not deceived in a similar manner. As we passed through the
Fiarrows, we entered a spaqiousr and magnificent basin, so com-
pletely land-locked that a fleet of vessels of the largest size may
lay there unm*- ved by any wind. There is no haven in America
to be compared with it.

" You are now safe," said the pilot ; " it is only twelve leagues
from Halifax, and nobody would think of looking for you here.
The fact is, the nearer you hide^ the safer you be,''*

" Exactly," sais 1 ; " what you seek you can't find, but when
you aint looking for a thing, you are sure to stumble on it."

" If you ever want to run goods. Sir," said he, " the closer you
go to the port, the better. Smugglers aint all up to this, so they
seldom approach the lion's den, but go farther and fare worse.
Now we may learn lessons from dumb animals. They know we
reason on probabilities, and therefore always do what is improba-
ble. We think them to be fools, but they know that we are. The
fox «ees we always look for him about his hole, and therefore he
carries on his trade as far from it, and as near the poultry yard as
possible. If a dog kills sheep, and them Newfoundlanders are
most uncommon fond of mutton, I must say, he never attacks his
neighbor's flock, for he knows he would be suspected and had up
for it, but sets off at night, and makes a foray like the old Scotch
on the distant borders.

" He washes himself, for marks of blood is a bad sign, and
returns afore day, and wags his tail, and runs round his master,
and looks up into his face as innocent as you please, as much as to
say, ' Squire, here I have been watchin of your property all this
live long night, it's dreadful lonely work, I do assure you, and oh,
how glad I am to see the shine of your face this morning.'

" And the old boss pats his head, fairly took in, and says, * that's

!'i{»

|!^li

UNLOOXINO A WOMAIT'S HKAST.

A good dog — ^whut a faithful, honest fellow you be ; you are worth
your weight in gold.'

* " Well, the next time»hc goes off on a spree in the same quarter,
what does he see but a border dog strung up by the neck, who has
been seized and condemned, as many an innocent fellow has been
before him on circumstantial evidence, and he laughs and says to
himself, ' what fools humans be ; they don't know half as much as
we dogs do.' So he tliinks it would be as well to shift his ground,
where folks ain't on the watch for sheep-stealers, and he makes a
dash into a flock still further off.

"Them Newfoundlanders would puzzle the London detective
police, I believe they are the most knowin' coons in all creation,
don't you ?"

" Well, they are," sais I, " that's a fact, and they have all the
same passions and feelings we have, only they are more grateful
than man is, and you can by kindness lay one of them under an
obligation he will never forget as long as he lives, whereas an
obligation scares a man, for he snorts and stares at you like a
horse at an engine, and is e'en most sure to up heels and let you
have it, like mad. The only thing about dogs is, they can't bear
•rivals ; they like to have all attention paid to themselves exclu-
sively. I will tell you a story I had from a British Colonel.

" He was stationed in Nova Scotia, with his regiment, when I
was a venden of clocks there. I met him to Windsor, at the
Wilcox Inn. He was mightily taken with my old horse Clay, and
offered me a most an everlastin' long price for him : he said if I
would sell him, he wouldn't stand for money, for he never see such
an animal in all his born days, and so on. But old Clay was
above all price ; his ditto was never made yet, and I don't think
ever will be. I had no notion to sell him, and I told him so, but
seein' he was dreadful disappointed, for a rich Englishman actually
thinks money will do anything and get anything, I told him if ever
I parted with him, he should have him on condition he would keep
him as long as he lived, and so on.

" Well, it pacified him a bit, and to turn the conversation, sais I,

* Colonel,' sais I, ' what a most an almighty everlastin' super supe-
rior Newfoundler that is,' a pointin to his dog ; ' creation, sais I,

* if I had a regiment of such fellows, 1 believe I wouldn't be afraid
of the devil. My,' sais I, * what a dog ! would you part with him 1
I'de give anything for him.'

" I said that a purpose to show him I had as good a right to
keep my horse as he had his long-hair gentleman. * * '' -^

" * No,' sais he, with a sort of half-smile at my ignorance in
pokin' such a question at him, (for a Britisher abroad thinks he has
privileges no one else has), * noj I don't want to part with him. I
want to take him to England with me. See, he has all the marks

USLOOKINO ▲ woman's HBABT.

ire worth

3 quarter,
, who has
has been
d says to
much as
s ground,
I makes a

detective
creation,

e all the
I grateful
under an
lereas an
ovL like a
I let you
an't bear
es exciu-
nel.

t, when I

r, at the

lay, and

said if I

see such

Clay was

n't think

tn so, but

actually

m if ever

>uld keep

)n, sais I,
per supe-
>n, sais I,
be afraid
ith him 1

> right to

>rance in

ks he has

him. I

le marks

' Look at the black roof of his"
see the dew-claw, that is a great

of the true breed ; look at his beautiful broad forehead, what an
intellectual one it is, ain't it 1 then see his delicate mouse-like ears,
just largo enough to cover the orifice, and thdt's all.'

" ' Orifice,' said I, for I hate fine words, for common use, they
are like go-to-meetin' clothes on week-days, onconvenient, and look
too all fired jam up. Sais I, * wha^s that when it's fried 1 I don't
know that word V m ^

" ♦ Why, ear-hole,' said he. ** '

" ' Oh,' sais I, simple-like, * I take now.'

" He smiled and went on.
mouth,' said he, ' and do you

mark 1 Then feel that tail ; that is his rudder to steer by when
swimming. It's different from the tail of other dogs — the strength
of that joint is surprising ; but his chest, Sir, his chest, see how
that is formed on purpose for diving ! It is shaped internally like
a seal's, and then, observe the spread of that webbed foot, and the
power of them paddles ! There are two kinds of them, the short
and the long-haired, but I think those shaggy ones are the hand-
somest. They are very difllicult to be got now of the pure breed.
I sent to the Bay of Bulls for this one. To have them in health
you must make them stay out of doors in all weather, and keep
them cool, and, above all, not feed them too high. Salt fish seems
the best food for them, they are so fond of it. Singular that, ain't
it 1 but a dog is natural, Sir, and a man ain't.

" * Now, you never saw a codfish at the table of a Newfoundland
merchant in your life. He thinks it smells too much of the shop.
In fact, in my opinion, the dog is the only gentleman there. The
only one now that the Indian is extinct, who has breeding and
blood in that land of oil, blubber, and icebergs.'

" Lord, I wish one of them had been there to have heard him,
wouldn't he a harpooned him ? that's all. He made a considerable
of a long yarn of it, and, as it was a text he had often enlarged
on, I thought he never would have ended, but like other preachers
when he got heated, spit on the slate, rub it all out, and cypher it
over again. Thinks I to myself, I'll play you a bit, my boy.

" ' Exactly,' sais I ; ' there is the same difference in dogs and
horses as there is in men. Some are noble by nature, and some
vulgar ; each is known by his breed.'

" ' True,' said he, ' very true,' and he stood up a little ^traighter,
as if it did him good to hear a republican say that., for his father
was an Earl. ' A very just remark,' said he, and he eyed me all
over, as if he was rather surprised at my penetration.

" ' But the worst of it,' sais I, ' is that a high-born brute, and a
high-bred man, are only good for one thing. A pointer will point
— a blood-hound run — a setter will set — a bull-dog fight — and a
Newfoundlander will swim; but what else are they good for?

UNLOOEINO A WOMAN'S HEABT.

Now a duke is a duke, and the devil a thing else. All you expect
of him is to act and look like one ; (and I could point out some
that even don't even do that). If he writes a book, and 1 believe
a Scotch one, by the help of his tutor, did once ; or makes a
speech, you say, come now, that is very well for a duke, and so on.
Well, a marquis ain't quite so high bred, and he is a little better
and so on, downwards. When you get to an earl, why, he may
be good for more things than one. I ain't quite sure a cross ain't
desirable, and in that way that you couldn't improve the intelli-
gence of both horses, noblemen, and dogs — don't you think so,
Sirrsaisl.

" ' It is natural for you,' said he, not liking the smack of dem-
ocracy that I threw in for fun, and looking uneasy. ' So,' sais he,
(by way of turning the conversation) ' the sagacity of dogs is very
wonderful. I will tell you an anecdote of this one that has sur-
prised everybody to whom I have related it.

" * Last summer my duties led me to George's Island. I take it ^
for granted you know it. It is a small island situated in the centre i
of the harbor of Halifax, has a powerful battery on it, and bar-
racks for the accommodation of troops. There was a company of
my regiment stationed there at the time. I took this dog and a
small terrier, called Tilt, in the boat with me. The latter was a
very active little fellow that the General had given me a few weeks
before. He was such an amusing creature, that he soon became a
universal favorite, and was suffered to come into the house, (a
privilege which was never granted to this gentleman, who paid no
regard to the appearance of his coat, which was often wet and
dirty,) and who was therefore excluded.

" ' The consequence was, Thunder was jealous, and would not
associate with him, and if ever he took any liberty, he turned on
him and punished him severely. This, however, he never presumed
to do in my presence, as he knew I would not suffer it, and, there-
fore, when they both accompanied me in my walks, the big dog
contented himself with treating the other with perfect indifference
and contempt. Upon this occasion. Thunder lay down in the boat,
and composed himself to sleep, while the little fellow, who was full
of life and animation, and appeared as if he did not know what it
was to close his eyes, sat up, looked over the gunwale, and seemed
to enjoy the thing uncommonly. He watched the motions of the
men, as if he understood what was required of them, and was
anxious they should acquit themselves properly.

" * He knew,' said I, ' it was what sailors call the dog-watch.''

" * Very good^^ said he, but looking all the time as if he thought
the interruption very bad.

" After having made my inspection, I returned to the boat, for
the purpose of reorossing to the town, when 1 missed the terrier.

the

UNLOCKING A WOMAN'S HBABT.'

Thunder was close at my heels, and when I whistled for the other,
wagged his tail and looked up in my face, as if he would say, never
mind that foolish dog, I am here, and that is enough, or is there
anything you want me to do ?

'* ' After calling in vain, I went back to the barracks, and inquired
of the men for Tilt, but no one appeared to have seen him, or
noticed his motions.

" After perambulating the little island in viiin, I happened to ask
the sentry if he knew where he was.

" ' Yes, sir,' said he, ' he is buried in the beach.'

" Buried in the beach,' said I, with great anger, < who dared to
kill him "i Tell me. Sir, immediately.'

" ' That large dog did it. Sir. He enticed him down to the
shore, by playing with him, pretending to crouch, and then run
after him ; and then retreating, and coaxing him to chase him ; and
when he got him near the beach, he throttled him in an instant, and
then scratched a hole in the shingle and buried him, covering him
up with the gravel. After that, he went into the water, and with
his paws washed his head and face, shook himself, and went up to
the barracks. You will find the terrier just down there. Sir.'

" ' And sure enough there was the poor little fellow, quite dead,
and yet warm.

" ' In the meantime, Thunder, who had watched our proceedings
from a distance, as soon as he saw the body exhumed, felt as if
there was a court-martial holding over himself, plunged into the
harbor, and swam across to the town, «nd hid himself for several
days, until he thought the affair had blown over ; and then ap-
proached me anxiously and cautiously, lest he should be appre-
hended and condemned. As I was unwilling to lose both of my
dogs, J was obliged to overlook it, and take him back to my confi-
dence. A strange story, aint it, Mr. Slick 1 '

" Well, it is,' sais I, ' but dogs do certainly beat all natur, that's
a fact.'

But to get back to the " Black Hawk ; " as soon as we anchored,
I proposed to Cutler that we should go ashore and visit the " na-
tives." While he was engaged giving his orders to the mate, I took
the opportunity of inquiring of the Pilot about the inhabitants.
This is always a necessary precaution. If you require light-houses,
buoys, and sailing directions to enter a port, you want similar
guides when you land. The navigation there is difficult also, and
it's a great thing to know who you are going to meet, what sort of
stuff they are made of, and which way to steer, so as to avoid
hidden shoals and sand-bars, fbr every little community is as full
of them as their harbor. It don't do, you know, to talk tory in the
house of a radical, to name a bishop to a puritan, to let out agia
Bmuggliu' to a man who does a little bit of business tiiat way him-

11^

ITNLOOKING ▲ WOMAN'b HEABT..

self; or, as the French say, " to talk of a rope in a house where the
squatter has been hanged." If you want to please a guest, you
must have some of his favorite dishes at dinner for him ; and if
you want to talk agreeably to a man, you must select topics he has
a relish for.

" So," says I, " where had we better go, Pilot, when we land 1"

" Do you see that are white, one-story house there ?" said he.
*' That is a place, though not an inn, where the owner, if he is at
home, will receive the likes of you very hospitably. He is a capi-
tal fellow in his way, but as hot as pepper. His name is Peter
McDonald, and he is considerable well to do in the world. He is
a Highlander ; and when young went out to Canada in the employ-
ment of the North-west Fur Company, where he spent many years,
and married, broomstick fashion, I suppose, a squaw. After her
death, he removed, with his two half caste daughters, to St. John's,
New Brunswick ; but his girls, I don't think, were very well re-
ceived, on account of their color, and he came down here and set-
tled at Ship Harbor, where some of his countrymen are l9cated.
He is as proud as Lucifer, and so are his galls. Whether it is that
they have been slighted, and revenge it on all the rest of the world,
I don't know ; or whether it is Highland and Indian pride mixed, I
aint sartified ; but they carry their heads high, and show a stiff
upper lip, I tell you. I don't think you will get much talk out of
them, for I never could."

" Well, it don't follow," said I, "by no manner of means, Eldad,
because they wouldn't chftt to you, that they wouldn't open their
little mugs to me. First and foremost recollect, Mr. Nickerson,
you are a married man, and it's no use for a gall to talk it into
you ; and then, in the next place, you see you know a plaguey
sight more about the shape, make, and build of a crafb like this,
than you do about the figure-head, waist, and trim of a gall. You
are a seaman, and I am a landsman ; you know how to bait your
hooks for fish, and I know the sort of hackle women will jump at.
See if I don't set their clappers a going, like those of a saw-mill.
Do they speak English ?"

" Yes," said he, " and they talk Goelic and French also ; the first
two they learned from their father, and the other in Canada."

" Are they pretty ?"

" The eldest is beautiful,'"' said he ; " and there is something in
her manner you can't help thinking she is a lady. You never saw
such a beautiful figure as she is in your life."

Thinks I to myself, " that's all you know about it, old boy.'*
But I didn't say so, for I was thinking of Sophy at thfi time.

We then pushed off, and steered for Peter McDonald's, Indiai^
Peter, as the Pilot said the fishermen called him. As we approached
the house he came out to meet us ; he was a short, strong-built,

((

UNLOCKING A WOMAN'S ilEABT.

186 where the
a guest, you
him ; and if
opics he has

we land ?"

I r said he.
r, if he is at
He is a capi-
me is Peter
)rld. He is
the employ-
many years,

After her
) St. John's,
Bry well re-
lere and set-
J-re located,
ler it is that
>f the world,
ide mixed, I
show a stiff
talk out of

3ans, Eldad,
; open their

Nickerson,
talk it into
r a plaguey
*t like this,

gall. You
> bait your

II jump at.
a saw-mill.

; the first
lada."

mething in
I never saw

, old boy."

time.

Id's, Indiai^

approached

troDg.buiIt,

athletic man, and his step was as springy as a boy's. He had a
jolly, open, manly face, but a quick, restless eye, and the general
expression of his countenance indicated, at once, good nature, and
irascibility of temper.

" Coot tay, shentlemen," he said, " she is glad to see you ; come,
walk into her own house." He recognised and received kindly
Eldad, who mentioned our names and introduced us, and he wel-
comed us cordially. As soon as we were seated, according to the
custom of the northwest traders, he insisted upon our taking some-
thing to drink, and calling to his daughter Jessie in Gaelic, he
desired her to bring whiskey and brandy. As I knew this was a
request, that on such an occasion could not be declined without
oflence, I accepted his offer with thanks, and no little praise on the
virtues of whiskey, the principal recommendation of which, I said,
" was that there was not a headache in a hogshead of it."

" She believes so herself," he said, " it is petter ash all de rum,
prandy, shin, and other Yanke pyson in the States ; ta Yankies
are cheatin smugglin rascalls."

The entrance of Jessie fortunately gave a turn to this compli-
mentary remark ; when she set down the tray, I rose and extended
my hand to her, and said in Gaelic, " Cair mur tha thu mo gradh^
(how do you do my dear), tha m^n dochasgam Mel thu slan (I hope
you are quite well)."

The girl was amazed, but no less pleased. How sweet to the
ear are the accents of the paternal language, or the mother tongue
as we call it, for it is women who teach us to talk. It is a bond
of union ! Whoever speaks it, when we are in a land of strangers,
is regarded as a relative. I shall never forget when I was in the
bazaar at Calcutta, how my heart leaped at hearing the voice of a
Connecticut man as he was addressing a native trader.

"Tell you what, stranger," said he, "I feel as mad as a meat
axe, and I hope I may be darned to all darnation, if I wouldn't
chaw up your ugly mummy ised corpse, hair, hide and hoof, this
blessed minute, as quick as I would mother's dough-nuts, if I wam't
afraid you'd pyson me with you atimy, I'll be dod drotted if I
wouldn't."

Oh, how them homespun words, coarse as they were, cheered
my drooping- spirits, and the real Connecticut nasal twang with
which they were uttered sounded like music to my ears ; how it
brought my home and far-ofT friends to my ears ; how it sent up
a tear of mingled joy and sadness to my eye.

Peter was delighted. He slapped me on the back with a hearty
good will, in a way nearly to deprive me of my breath, welcomed me
anew, and invited us all to stay with him while the vessel remained
there. Jessie replied in Geelic, but so rapidly I could only follow
her with great difRculty, for I had but a smattering of it, though I

UHLOOKING A WOMAN'S HBABT.

understood it better than I could speak it, having acquired it in a
very singular manner, as I will tell you by and bye. Offering her
a chair, she took it and sat down after some hesitation, as if it was
not her usual habit to associate with her father's visitors, and we
were soon on very sociable terms. I asked the name of the trading
post in the north-west, where they had resided, and delighted her by
informing her I had once been there myself on business of John
Jacob Astor's New York Fur Company, and staid with the Gov-
ernor, who was the friend and patron of her father's. This was
sufficient to establish us at once on something like the footing of
old friends. When she withdrew, Peter followed her out, proba-
bly to give some directions for our evening meal.

" Well, well," said the pilot, " if you don't beat all ! I never
could get a word out of that girl, and you have loosened her
tongue in rale right down earnest, that's a fact."

"Eldad," sais I, " there is two sorts of pilotage, one that enables
you to steer through life, and another that carries yo,u safely along
a coast, and there is this difference between them : This universal
glove is all alike in a general way, and the knowledge that is suffi-
cient for one country will do for all the rest of it, with some slight
variations. Now, you may be a very good pilot on this coast, but
your knowledge is of no use to you on the shores of England. A
land pilot is a fool if he makes shipwreck wherever he is, but the
best of coast pilots when he gets on a strange shore is as helpless
as a child. Now a woman is a woman all over the world, whether
she speaks Gselic, French, Indian, or Chinese ; there are various
entrances to her heart, and if you have experience, you have got a
Compass which will enable you to steer through one or the other of
them, into the inner harbor of it. Now, Minister used to say that
Eve, in Hebrew, meant talk, for providence gave her the power of
chattyfication on purpose to take charge of that department. Clack
then you see is natural to them, talk there/ore to them as they like,
and they will soon like to talk to you. If a woman was to put a
Bramah lock on her heart, a skilful man would find his way into it
if he wanted to, I know. That contrivance is set to a particular
word ; find the letters that compose it, and it opens at once. The
moment I heard the Gselic I knew I had discovered the cypher— I
tried it and succeeded. Tell you what, pilot, love and skill laugh
at locks, for them that catCt he opened can be picked. The m£chanism
of ihe human heart, when you thoroughly understand it, is, like all
the other works of nature, very beautiful, very wonderful, but very
simple. When it does not work well, the fault is not in the machinery ^
but in the management,**

hii

.^^1;

JL OBITTUS WITH ▲ THOUSAND YIBTXTES. 49

CHAPTER IV.

A CRITTUR WITH A THOUSAND VIRTUES AND

BUT ONE VICE:

Soon after McDonald had returned and resumed his seat, a tall
thin man, dressed in a coarse suit of homespun, entered the room,
and addressing our host familiarly as Squire Peter, deposited in
the corner a fishing-rod, and proceeded to disencumber himself of a
large salmon-basket apparently well filled, and also two wallets,
one of which seemed to contain his clothes, and the other, from
the dull heavy sound it emitted as he threw it on the floor, some
tools. He was about forty years of age. His head, which was
singularly well formed, was covered with a luxuriant mass of
bushy black curls. His eyes were large, deep set, and intelligent,
his forehead expansive and projecting, and his eyebrows heavy and
shaggy. When addressiiig Peter he raised them up in a peculiar
manner, nearly to the centre of his forehead, and when he ceased
they suddenly dropped and partially concealed his eyes.

It was impossible not to be attracted by a face, that had two
such remarkable expressions ; one of animation, amiability, and
intelligence ; and the other of total abstraction. He bent forward,
even after he relieved himself of his load, and his attitude and gait
suggested the idea of an American land-surveyor, who had been
accustomed to carry heavy weights in the forest. Without conde-
scending to notice the party, further than bestowing on us a cur-
sory glance to ascertain whether he knew any of us, he drew up to
the chimney corner, and placing the soles of his boots perpendicu-
larly to the fire, (which soon indicated by the vapor arising from
them, that he had been wading in water), he asked in a listless
manner and without waiting for replies, some unconnected ques-
tions of the landlord : as, " Any news, Peter 1 how does the world
use you 1 how are the young ladies t how is fish this season %
mackarel plenty 1 any wrecks this year, Peter, eh 1 any vessels
sinking, and dead men floating ; silks, satins, ribbons, and gold
watches waiting to be picked up ? Glorious coast this ! the har-
vest extends over the whole year," and then he drew his hand over
his face as if to suppress emotion, and immediately relapsed into
silence, and stared moodily into the fire. ^ ,

Peter seemed to understand that no answer was required, and
therefore made none, but asked him where he had come from 1

" Where did he come from 1 " said the stranger, who evidently
Applied the question to a fish in his basket, and not to himself
3

50 A.OBITTVK WIT9 A THOUSAND YIBTXTEB

"originally from the lake, Peter, -where it was spawned, and
whither it annually returns. You ought to understand that, Mac,
for you have a head c«i your shoulders, and that is more than half
the poor wretches that float ashore here from the deep have. It's
a hard life, my friend, going to sea, and hard shores sailors knock
against sometimes, and »till hai*der hearts they oflen fli«d there,
A stone in the end of a stocking is a sling for a giant, and soon
puts an end to their sufferings ; a punishment for wearing gold
watches, a penalty for pride. Jolly tars, eh 1 oh yes, very jolly !
it's a jolly sight, aint it, to see two hundred half-naked, mangled,
and disfigured bodies on the beach, as I did the other day ?" and
he gave a shudder at the thought that seemed to shake the very
chair he sat on. "It's lucky their friends don't see them, and
know their sad fate. They were lost at sea ! that is enough for
mothers and wives to hear. The cry for help, when there is none
to save, the shriek of despair, when no hope is left, the half-uttered
prayer, the last groan, and the last struggle of death, are al)
hushed in the storm, and weeping friends know not what they
lament."

Afler a short pause, he continued :

" That sight has most crazed me. What was it you asked ?
Oh, I have it I you asked where he came from ? From the lake,
Peter, where he was spawned, and where he returned, you see, to>
die. You were spawned on the shores of one of the bays of the?
Highlands of Scotland. Wouldn't you like to return and lay
your bones there, eh 1 From earth you came, to it you shall
return. Wouldn't you like to go back and breathe the air of
childhood once more before you die? Love of home, Peter,
is strong ; it is an instinct of nature ; but, alas ! the world
is a Scotchman's home —any where that he can make money.
Don't the mountains with their misty summits appear before you
sometimes in your sleep 1 Don't you dream of their dark shad-
ows and sunny spots, their heathy slopes and deep, deep glens ?
Do you see the deer grazing there, and hear the bees hum merrily
as they return laden with honey, or the grouse rise startled, and
whirr away tc hide itself in its distant covert 1 Do the dead ever
rise from their graves and inhabit again the little cottage that looks
out on the stormy sea? Do you become a child once more, and
hear your mother's voice, as she sings the little simple air that lulls
you to sleep, or watch with aching eyes for the returning boat thai
brings your father, with the shadows of evening, to his humble
home 1 And what is the language of your dreams 1 not English,
French, or Indian, Peter, for they have been learned for trade
or for travel, but Gaelic, for that was the language of love. Had
you lefb home early, Mao, and forgotten its words or its sounds,
had all trace of it vanished from your memory as if it had never

▲ HD BUT ONX YIOB.

been, still wovd^ you have heard it, and known it, and talked it in
your dreams. Peter, it is the voice of nature, and that is tho
voice of God ! "

" She'll tell her what she treams of sometimes,' said McDonald,
" she treams of ta mountain dew — ta clear water of life.'

" I will be bound you do," said the Doctor, " and I do if you
don't ; so, Peter, my boy, give me a glass ; it will cheer my heart,
for I have been too much alone lately, and have seen such horrid
sights, I feel dull." -

While Peter, who was a good deal affected with tills reference to
his native land, was proceeding to comply with his request, he re-
lapsed into his former state of abstraction, and when the liquor was
presented to him, appeared altogether to have forgotten that he had
asked for it.

" Ck>me, Toctor," said the host, touching him on the shoulder,
" come, take a drop of this, it will cheer you up ; you seem a p^
too low to-day. It's the genuine thin^ it is some the Governor,
Sir Colih Campbell, gave me." !-:

" None the better for that, Peter, none the better for that ; for
the rich give out of their abundance, the poor from their last cup
and their last loaf; one is the gift of station, the other the gifb of
the heart."

" Indeed then, she is mistakened, man. It was the gif)i of as
true-hearted a Highlander as ever lived. I went to see him lately,
about a grant of land. He was engaged writing at the time, and
an officher was standing by him for orders, and sais he to me, ' my
good friend, could you call to-morrow ? for I am very busy to-day,
as you see.' Well, I answered him in Gaelic that the wind was
fair, and I was anxious to go home ; but if he would be at leisure
next week I would return again. Oh, I wish you had seen him,
Doctor, when he heard his native tongue. He threw down his pen,
jumped up like a boy, and took me by the hand, and shook it with
all his might. * Oh,' said he, * I haven't heard that for years ; the
sound of it does my heart good. You must come again and see
me afler the steamer has letl for England. What can I do for
you? ' So I told him in a few words I wanted a grant of two hun-
dred acres of land adjoining this place. And he took a minute of
my name, and of Ship Harbor, and the number of my lot, and
wrote underneath an order for the grant. ' Take that to the Sur-
veyor-General,' said he, * and the next time you come to Halifax the
grant will be ready for you.' Then he rang the bell, and when the
servant came, he ordered him to fill a hamper of whiskey and take
it down to my vessel."

*' Did you get the grant ?" said the stranger. - ..i .

*^ Indeed she did," said Peter, " and when she came to read it, it
WIU3 for five instead of two hundred acres." v ;

■'m^<m m

52 ▲ OBITTUB WITB A THOUSAND VIBTUES

Good !*' said the other. " Come, I like that. • Fill me another
glass and I will drink his health."

" Well done, old boy ! " said I to myself, " you know how to
carry your sentimentality to market anyhow. Doctor, doctor!
So you are a doctor," sais I to myself, " are you ? Well, there is
something else in you than dough-pills, and salts and senna at any
rate, and that is more than most of your craft have, at all events.
I'll draw you out presently, for I never saw a man with that vein
of melancholy in him, that didn't like fun, providin' his sadness
warn't the effect of disease. So here's at you ; I'll make the fun
start or break a trace, I know."

Cutler and I had been talking horse when he came in ; a sort of
talk I rather like myselfj for I consait I know a considerable some
about it, and aint above getting a wrinkle from others when I can.
" Well," sais I, " capting, we was talking about horses when the
doctor came in."

" Captain," said the Doctor, turning round to Cutler, " Captain,
excuse me. Sir, how did you reach the shore?" •

" In the boat," said Cutler.

"Ah!" said the other with animation, "was all the crew
saved 1"

" We were in no danger whatever. Sir ; my vessel is at anchor in
the harbor."

" Ah." replied the Doctor, " that's fortunate, very fortunate ; "
and turned again to the fire, witli an air, as I thought of disappoint-
ment, as if he had expected a tale of horror to excite him.

" Well, Mr. Slick," said the Captain, "let us hear your story
about the horse that had a thousand virtues and only one vice^

At the sound of my name, the stranger gave a sudden start and
gazed steadily at me, his eyebrows raised in the extraordinary
manner that I have described, something like the festoon of a cur-
tain, and a smile playing on his face as if expecting a joke and
ready to enter into it, and enjoy it. All this I observed out of the
corner of my eye, without appearing to regard him, or notice hi9
scrutiny.

Sais I, " when I had my tea-store in Boston, I owned the fastest
trotting-horse in the United States ; he was a sneezer, I tell you.
I called him Mandarin — a very appropriate name, you see, for my
business. It was very important for me to attract attention. In-
deed, you must do it, you know, in our great cities, or you are run
right over, and crushed by engines of more power. Whose horse
is thati Mr. Slick's, the great tea-merchant. That's the great
Mandarin, the fastest beast in all creation — ^refused five thousand
dollars for him, and so on. Every wrapper I had fi)r my tea had a
print of him on it. It was action and reaction, you see. Well,
this horse had a very serious fault that diminished his yalu« in my

AND BUT ONE YIOB.

crew

eyes down to a hundred dollars, as far as use and comfort went.
Nothing in the world could ever induce him to cross a bridge.
He had fallen through one when he was a colt, and got so allfired
frightened he never forgot it afterwards. He would stop, rear, run
back, plunge, and finally kick if you punish? ^ Mm too hard, and
smash your wagon to pieces, but cross he never would. Nobody
knew this but me, and of course I warn't such a fool as to blow
upon my own beast. At last I grew tired of him and determined
to sell him ; but as I am a man that always adheres to the truth in
my horse-trades, the difficulty was, how to sell him and not lose by
him. Well, I had to go to Charleston, South Carolina, on busi-
ness, and I took the chance to get rid of Mr. Mandarin, and adver-
tised him for sale. I worded the notice this way :

" * A gentlemen, being desirous of quitting Boston on urgent
business for a time, will dispose of a first-rate horse, that he is
obliged to leave behind him. None need apply but those willing
to give a long price. The animal may be seen at Deacon Seth's
livery stables.' i^ ; ■< i- ;^ 4- .s* •

" Well, it was soon known that Mandarin was for sale, and sev-
eral persons came to know the lowest figure. *Four thousand
dollars,' said I, ' and if I didn't want to leave Boston in a hurry,
)?ix would be the price.*

" At last young Mr. Parker, the banker's son from Bethany,
called and said he wouldn't stand for the price, seeing that a hun-
dred dollars was no more than a cord of wood in his pocket. (Good
gracious, how the Doctor laughed at that phrase !) but would like
to inquire a little about the critter, confidential like.

" ' I will answer any questions you ask,' I said, candidly.

"'Is he sound?'

" ' Sound as a new hackmetack trenail. Drive it all day, and
you can't broom it one mite or morsel.'

" * Good in harness V

" ' Excellent. Can do his mile in two fifteen. He has done it.*

" ' Now between man and man,' sais he, ' what is your reason
for selling the horse. Slick ? for you are not so soft as to be tempted
by price out of a first chop article like that.'

" ' Well, candidly,' sais I, ' for I am like a cow's tail, straight up
and down in my dealins, and ambition the clean thing.' "

" Straight up and down !" said the Doctor aloud to himself;
" straight up and down like a cow's tail. Oh Jupiter ! what a
simile ! and yet it aint bad, for one end is sure to be in the dirt.
A man may be the straight thing, that is, right up and down like a
cow's tail, but hang me if he can be the clean thing anyhow he can
fix it." And he stretched out his feet to their full length, put his
hands in his trowsers pockets, held down his head, and clucked
like a hen that is calling her chickens. I vum I could hardly help

54 A OBITTUB WITH A tHOUSAKD VIRTUES

bustin* out a larfin myself, for it wam^t a slow remark of hisln,
and showed fun ; in fact, I was sure at first he was a droll boy.

" Well, as I was a sayin' " sais I to Mr. Parker, ' candidly, now,
my only reason for partin' with that are horse is, that ) want to go
away in a hurry out of Boston, clear down to Charleston, South
Carolina, and as I can't take him with me, I prefer to sell him.'

" * Well,' sais he, ' the beast is mine, and here is a check for
your money.'

" • Well, sais I, * Parker, take care of him, for you have got a
fust rate critter. He is all sorts of a horse, and one that is all I
have told you, and more too, and no mistake.'

** Every man that buys a new horse in a general way, is in a
great hurry to try him. There is sumthin' very takin' in a new
tiling. A new watch, a new coat, no, I reckon it's best to except a
new spic and span coat (for it's too glossy, and it don't set easy,
till it's worn awhile, and perhaps I might say a new saddle, for it
looks as if you warn't used to ridin', except when you went to
Meetin' of a Sabbaday, and kept it covered all the week, as a gall
does her bonnet, to save it from the flies ;) but a new wagon, a
new sleigh, a new house, and above all, a new wife, has great
attractions. Still you get tired of them all in a short while ; you
soon guess the hour instead of puUin' out the watch for everlastin'.
The wagon loses its novelty, and so does the sleigh, and the house
is surpassed next month by a larger and finer one, and as you can't
carry it about to show folks, you soon find it is too expensive to
invite them, to come and admire it. But the wife ; oh, Lord ! In
a general way, there ain't more difference between a grub and a
butterfly, tluui between a sweetheart and wife. Yet the grub and
the butterfly is the same thing, only differently rigged out, and so
is the sweetheart and wife. Both critters crawl about the house,
and aint very attractive to look at, and both turn out so fine, and
so painted when they go abroad, you don't scarcely know them
agin. Both, too, when they get out of doors, seem to have no
other airthly object but to show themselves. They don't go
straight there, and back again, as if there was an end in view, bub
they first flaunt to the right, and then to the left, and then every-
where in general and yet nowhere in particular. To be seen and
admired is the object of both. They are all finery, and that is so
in their way they can neither sit, walk nor stand conveniently in it.
They are never happy, but when on the wing."

" Oh, Lord !" said the Doctor to himself, who seemed to think
aloud ; " I wonder if that is a picture or a caricature ?"

, Thinks I, " old boy, you are sold. I said that a purpose to find
you out, for I am too fond of feminine gender to make fun of them.
You are a single man. If you was married, I guess you wouldn't
ask that are question."

Ill

A.ND BUT ONE VIOE.

. ^Ir «/

But I went on. " Now a horse is different, you never get tired
of a good one. He don't fizzle out* like the rest. You like him
better and better every day. He seems a part of yourself; he is
vour better half, your * hcdter keffo* as I heard a cockney once call
his fancy gaU.

" This bein* the case, as I was a sayin,* as soon as a man gits a
new one, he wants to try him. So Parker puts Mandarin into
harness, and. drives away like wink for Salem, but when he came
to the bridge, the old ooon stopt, put forward his ears, snorted,
champed his bit, and stamped his fore feet. First PTker coaxed
him, but that did no good, and then he gave him the whip, and he
reared straight up on end, and nearly fell over into his wagon. A
man that was crossing over at the time, took him by the head to
lead him, when he suddenly wheeled half round, threw him in the
mud, and dragged him in the gutter, as he backed up agin the side
walk all standin'. Parker then laid on the whip, hot and heavy ;
he gave him a most righteous lickin'. Mandarin returned blow for
blow, until he kicked the wagon all to flinders. . ......*..._?

" Well, I must say that for his new owner, he was a pliiclty fel-
low, as well as Mandarin, and warn't agoin' to cave in that way.
So he takes him back to the livery stables, and puts him into
another carriage, and off he starts agin, and thinkin* that the horse
had seen or smelt sumtheu at that bridge to scare him, he tries
another, when the same scene was acted over again, only he was
throwed out, and had his clothes nearly tore off. Well, that after-
noon, up comes Parker to me, dioking with rage.

" ' Slick,' said he, * that is the greatest devil of a horse I ever
see. He has dashed two carriages all to shivereens, and nearly
tuckard the innerds out of me and another man. I don't think you
have acted honestly by me.'

" * Parker,' said f, * don't you use words that you don't know the
meanin' of, and for goodness gracious sake don't come to me to
teach you manners, I beseech you, for I am a rough schoolmaster,
I tell you. I answered every question you asked me, candidly,
fair and square, and above board.'

" ' Didn't you know,' said he, ' that no living man could git that
horse across a bridge, let him do his darndest ?'

" ' I did,' said I, ' know it to my 6ost, for he nearly killed me in
a fight we had at the Salem Pike.'

" * How could you, then, tell me. Sir, your sole reason for part-
ing witli him was, that you wanted to leave Boston and go to
Charleston V

" ' Because, Sir,' I replied, * it was the literal truth. Boston,
you know as well as I do, is almost an island, and go which way

out— To prove a failure

56 *A OBITTUR WITH A THOTTSAKD YIBTTTES

Iki

"1 I,

you will, you must cross » bridge to get out of it. I said I wanted
to quit the city, and was compelled to leave my horse behind.
How could I ever quit the place with that tormented beast / And
warn't I compelled to leave him M'hen old Scratch himself couldn't
make him obey orders 1 If I had a waited to leave town, till he
would cross a bridge, I should have had to have waited till dooms-
day.*

** He scratched his head, and looked foolish. * What a devil of
a seH,* said he. * That will be. a standinir joke agin me as long as
I live."

" * I don't see that,' said I : *if you had been deceived, you might
have called it a sell, but you bought him with your eyes and ears
open, and a full knowledge of the truth. And, after all, where
will you go to better yourself 1 for the most that can be said is,
you have got a eritiur with a thousand virtues and but one vieej'

^** Oh, get out!' said he, 'and let me alone.' And he walked
off, and looked as sheepish as you please."

" Oh dear !" said the Doctor ; " oh dear T* And he placed his
hands on his ribs, and walked round the room in a bent position,
like a man afiected with colic, and laughed as if he was hysterical,
saying, " oh dear I Oh, Mr. Slick, that's a capital story. Oh, you
would make a new man of me soon, I am sure you would, if I
was any time with you. I haven't laughed before that way for
many a long day. Oh, it does me good I There is nothing like
fun, is there '? I haven't any myself^ but I do like it in others.
Oh, we need it. We need all the counterweights we can muster
to balance the sad relations of life. God has made sunny ^pots, in
the heart ; why should we exclude the light from them f

" Stick a pin in that, Doctor," sais I, " for it's worth remem-
berin' as a wise saw."

He then took up his wallet, and retired to his room to change
his clothes, saying to himself^ in an under tone, " Stick a pin in it t
What a queer phrase ; and yet it's expressive, too.. It's the way
I preserve my insects.". .,../....' j*

The foregoing conversation had scarcely terminated, when Peter'sl
daughters commenced their preparation fi>r the evening meal. And
I confess I was never more surprised than" at the appearance of the
elder one, Jessie. In form and beauty, she far exceeded the Pilot's
high encomiums. She was taller than American women generally
are ; but she was so admirably proportioned, and well developed,
you were not aware of her height, till you saw her standing near
her sister. Her motions were all quiet, natural, and graceful, and
there was an air about her that nothing but the native ease of a
child of the forest or high-bred elegance of fashionable life can ever
impart. She had the delicate hands, and small feet, peculiar to
Indian w(Huen. Her hair was of the darkest and deepest jet.

AND BUT ONE VICE.

but not so coarse as that of the aborigines ; nrhilst her lai^e black
eyes were oval in shape, liquid, shaded by long lashes, and over-
arched by delicately-penciled brows. Her neck was long, but full,
and her shoulders would have been the envy of a London ball-
room. She was a perfect model of a woman.

It is true she had had the advantage, when young, of being the
companion of the children of the Governor of the fort, and had
been petted, partially educated, and patronized by his wife. But
neither he nor his lady could have imparted what it is probable
neither possessed, much polish of manner, or refinement of mind.
We hear of nature's noblemen, but that means rather manly,
generous, brave fellows, than polished men. There are, however,
splendid specimens of men, and beautiful looking women, among
the aborigines. Extremes meet ; and it is certain that the ease
and grace of highly civilized life, do not surpass those of untu-
tored nature, that neither concedes, nor claims a superiority to
others. She was altogether of a different stamp from her sister,
who was a common-looking person, and resembled the ordinary
females to be found in savage life. Stout, strong, and rather
stolid, accustomed to drudge and to obey, rather than to be petted
and rule ; to receive, and not to give orders, and to submit from
habit and choice. One seemed far above, and the. other as mudi
below, the station of their father. Jessie, though reserved, would
converse if addressed ; the other rather shunned conversation as
much as possible.

Both father and daughters seemed mutually attached to each
other, and their conversation was carried on with equal facility in
Indian, French, Gaelic, and English, although Peter spoke the last
somewhat indifferently. In the evening a young man, of the name
of Eraser, with his two sisters, children of a Highland neighbor,
came in to visit the McDonalds, and Peter, producing his violin,
we danced jigs and reels, in a manner and with a spirit not oflen
seen but in Ireland or Scotland. The Doctor, unable to withstand
the general excitement, joined in the dances, with as much anima-
tion as any of us, and seemed to enjoy himself amazingly.

" Ah, Mr. Slick,'' said he, patting me on the shoulder, " this is
the true philosophy of life. But how is it with your disposition
for fun, into which you enter with all your heart, that you have
such a store of ' wise saws.' How in the world did you ever
acquire them ? for your time seems to have been spent more in
the active pursuits of life than in meditation. Excuse me, I
neither undervalue your talent nor pow er of observation, but the
union does not seem quite natural, it is so much out of the usual
course of things."

" Well," sais I, " Doctor, you have been enough in the woods to
know that a rock, accidentally falling from a bank into a brook, or
.3*

>iSil!illi

53 A OBITTUB WITH A THOUBAKD YIBTUEB

a drift>log catching cross-ways of the stream, ■veill often change itJJ
whole course, and give it a different direction ; haven't you 1 j5on*t
you know that the smallest, and most trivial event, often contains
coloring matter enough in it to change the whole complexion of
our life 1 For instance, one Saturday, not long before I left school,
and when I was a considerable junk of a boy, father gave me leave
to go and spend the day with Eb Snell, the son of our neighbor,
old Colonel Jephnny Snell. We amused ourselves catching trout
in the mill-pond, and shooting king-fishers, about the hardest bird
there is to kill in all creation ; and, between one and the other
sport, you may depend we enjoyed ourselves first-rate. Towards
evenin', I heard a most an awful yell, and looked round, and there
was Eb shoutin' and screamin' at the tip eend of his voice, and a
jumpin' up and down, as if he had been bit by a rattlesnake.

" ' What in natur is the matter of you, Eb,' sals 1. * What are yott
a makin' such an everlastin' touss about ? ' But the more I asked,
the more he wouldn't answer. At last, I thought I saw a splash in
the water, as if somebody was making a desperate splurging there,
and I pulled for it, and raced to where he was in no time, and sure
enough there was his little brother, Zeb, just a sinkin' out of sight.
So I makes a spring in after him in no time, caught him by the
hair of his head, just as he was vamosing, and swam ashore with
him. The bull-rushes and long water-grass was considerable thick
there, and once or twice I thought in my soul I should have to let
go my hold of the child, and leave him to save my own life, my
feet got so tangled in it ; but I stuck to it like a good fellow,
and worked my passage out with the youngster.

" Just then, down came the women folk and all the family of
the Snolls, and the old woman made right at me, as cross as a
bear that has cubs, she looked like a perfect fury.

" * You good-for-nothin' young scallowag,' said she, * is that the
way you take care of that poor dear little boy, to let him fall into
the pond, and get half drowned ? '

'^ And she up and boxed my ears right and left, till sparks came
out of my eyes like a blacksmith's chimney, and my hat, which
was all soft with water, got the crown knocked in, in the scuffle,
and was as flat as a pancake.

" * What's all this,' sais Colonel Jephunny, who came runnin'
out of the mill. ' Eb,' sais he, ' what's all this 1 '

" Well, the critter \ras so frightened he couldn't do nothin', but
jump up and down, nor say a word, but * Siim, Sam ! '

** So the old man seizes a stick, and catchin' one of my hands ill
his, turned to, and gave me a most an awful hidin'. He cut me
into ribbons a'most.

" * I'll teach you,' he said, * you villain, to throw a child into the
'Water arter that fashin.' And he turned to, and at it agin, as hard

AND BUT ONE VICE.

AS he could lay on. I believe in my soul he would have nearly
killed me, if it hadn't a been for a great big nigger wench he had,
called Rose, My ! what a slashin' large woman that was ; half
horse, half alligator, with a cross of the mammoth in her. She
wore a, man's hat and jacket, and her petticoat had stuff enough in
it to make the mainsail of a boat. Her foot was as long and an
flat as a snow-shoe, and her hands looked as shapeless and as hard
as two large sponges froze solid. Her neck was as thick as a
bull's, and her scalp was large and woolly enough for a door-mat
She was as strong as a moose, and as ugly too ; and her great
white pointed teeth was a caution to a shark.

" ' Hullo,' sais she, ' here's the devil to pay, and no pitch hot.
Are you agoin' to kill that boy, massa 1 " and she seized hold of
me and took me away from him, and caught me up in her arms as
easy as if I was a doll.

'"Here's a pretty hurrahs nest,' sais she, * let me see one of you
dare to lay hands on this brave pickininny. He is more of a mail
than the whole bilin' of you put together. My poor child,' said
she, ' they have used you scandalous, ridiculous, and she held
down her nasty oily shiny fece and kissed me, till she nearly
smothered me, Oh, Doctor, I shall never forget that scene the
longest day I ever live. She might a been Rose by name, but she
warnt one by nature, I tell you. When niggers get their dander
raised, and their ekenezer fairly up, they ain't otter of roses, that's
a fact ; whatever Mrs. Stowe may say. Oh, I kicked and yelled
and coughed like anything.

" ' Poor dear boy, she said, ' Rose ain't a goin' to hurt her own
brave child,' not she, and she kissed me again, and again, till I
thought I should have fainted. She actually took away my breath.
" ' Come,' said she, and she set me down on my feet. ' Come to
the house, till I put some dry clothes on you, and I'll make some
lasses candy for you with my own hands ! ' But as soon as I
touched land, I streaked off for home, as hard as I could lay legs to
the ground ; but the perfume of old Rose set me a sneezing so, I
fairly blew up the dust in the road, as I went, as if a bull had been
pawin' of it, and lefl a great wet streak behind me as if a watering
pot had passed that way. Who should I meet when I returned,
but mother standin' at the door.

" ' Why, Sam,' said she, ' what under the sun is the matter ?
What a spot of work? . Where in the world have you beeni'
" ' In the mill pond,' said I.

*'* In the mill pond,' said she, slowly y ^and ruinated that beau-
tiful new coat, I made out of your father's old one, and turned so
nicely for you. You are more trouble to me than all the rest of
the boys put together. Go right off to your room this blessed

60 A. OBITTUB WITH A THOUSAND TIBTUE8

instant minite, and go to bed and say your prayerSf and render
thanks for savin' your clothes, if you did lose your life.'

" ' I wish I had lost my life,' said I.

" * Wish you had lost your life 1 ' saici she, * Why you mise>
rable, nnsarcumsised, unjustifiedy graceless boy. Why do you
■wish you had lost your life ? '

" * Phew,' said I, * was you ever kissed by a nigger % because, if
you was, 1 guess you wouldn't have asked that are question,* and
I sneezed so hard I actually blew down the wire cage, the door
flew open, and the cat made a spring like wink and kUIed the
canary bird. . ^ c ,/ .

"Sam, Sam,' said she, ('skat, skat, you nasty devil, you— yoii
have got the knary, I do declare.) Sam ! Sam [ to think I should
have lived to hear you ask your mother if she had ever been kissed
by a nigger V and she began to boohoo right out. ' I do believe
in my soul you are drunk, Sam,' said she.

" ' I shouldn't wonder if I was,' said I, * for I have drunk enough
to-day to serve a cow and a calf for a week.'

" ' Go right off to bed, my poor dear bird,' said she, * And
when your father comes in I will send him to your cage. You
Bhall be punished for this.'

" * I don't care,' sais I, for I was desperate and didn't mind what
happened, * who you send, providin' you don't send black Rose,
the nigger wench, to me.'

" Well, in about an hour or so, I heard father come to the foot
of the stairs and call out ' Sam,' 1 didn't answer at first, but went
and threw the winder open ready for a jump.

"Thinks I, 'Sam, you are in great luck to-day. Ist. You got
nearly drowned, savin' that little brat Zeb Snelhis. 2nd. You lost
a bran new hat, and spoilt your go to meetin' clothes. 3rd. Mrs.
Snell boxed your ears till your eyes shot stars, like rockets. 4th,
You got an all fired licking from old Colonel Jephunny, till he
made a mulatto of you, and you was half black and half white.
6th. You got kissed ,and pysoned by that great big emancipated
she-nigger wench. 6th. You have killed your mother's canary-
bird, and she has jawed you till she went into hysterics. 7th.
Here's the old man a goin to give you another walloping and all
for nothin.' I'll cut and run, and dot drot me if I don't, for it's
tarnation all over.' „

" ' Sam,' sais father again, a raisin' of his voice.

" ' Father,' sais I, 'I beg your pardon, I am very sorry for what
I have done, and I think I have been punished enough. If you
will promise to let me off this time, I will take my oath I will
never save another person from drowning again, the longest day I
ever live,'

yo
Id

AND BUT ONE VICE.

and

*An<J
>. You

" * Come down,' said he, * when I tell you, I am goin' to reward
you/

" * Thank you,! sais I, ' I have been rewarded already more than
I deserve.'

" Well, to make a long story short, we concluded a treaty of
peace, and down I went, and there was Colonel Snell, who said he
had drove over to beg my pardon for the wrong he had done to me,
and said he, ' Sam, come to me at ten o'clock on Monday, and I
will put you in a way to make your fortune, as a recompense for
saving my child's life.'

" Well, I kept the appointment, tho' I was awful skared about
old Rose kissin' of me again ; and sais he, ' Sam, I want to show
you my establishment for making wooden clocks. One o' them
can be manufactured for two dollars, scale of prices then. ' Come
to me for three months, and I will teach you tl\e trade, only you
musn't carry it on in Connecticut, to undermine me.' I did so,
and thus accidentally I became a clockmaker.

" To sell my wares I came to Nova Scotia. By a similar acci-
dent I met the Squir*^ m this province, and made his acquaintance.
I wrote a journal of « • tour, and for want of a title he put my
name to it, and callect . am Slick, the Clockmaker.' That book
introduced me to Geii^.a.. Jackson, and he appointed me attach^ to
our embassy to England, and that again led to Mr. Polk making
me * Commissioner of the Fisheries,' which, in its turn, was the
means of my having tl t honor of your acquaintance," and I made
him a scrape of my hind leg.

" Now," sais I, " all this came from the accident of my havin'
saved a child's life, one day. I owe my ' wise saws' to a similar
accident. My old master, and friend, that you have read of in my
books, Mr. Hopewell, was chock full of them. He used to call
them wisdom boiled down to an essence, concretes, and I don't
know what all. He had a book full of English, French, Spanish,
Italian, German, and above all, Bible ones. Well, he used to make
me learn them by heart for lessons, till I was fairly sick and tired to
death of 'em.

" ' Minister,' sais I, one day, ' what under the sun is the use of
them old, musty, fusty proverbs. A boy might as well wear his
father's boots, and ride in his long stirups, as talk in maxims, it
would only set other boys a laughin' at him.' . - = '

" ' Sam,' rials he, ' you don't understand thein now, and you don't
understand your Latin grammar, tho' you can say them both off
by he.irt. But you will see the value of one when you come to
know the world, and the other, when you come to knew the lan-
guage. The latter will make you a good scholar, and the former a
wise man.'

" Minister was right, Doctor. As I came to read the book of

iiii'i

1 1

▲ NEW WAY TO LBABK OAELIO.

life, I soon began to understand, appreciate, and apply my proverbs.
Maxims are deductions ready drawn^ and better expressed than I
could do them, to save my soul alive. Now, 1 have lamed to make
them myself. I have acquired the habit, as my brother, the law*

rer, dais, * of extracting the principle frofii cases.' Do you take %
am not the accident of an accident ; for I believe the bans of
marriage were always duly published in our family ; but ! am the
accident of an incident." ,.^

" There is a great moral in that, too, Mr. Slick," he said. " How
important is conduct, when the merest trifle may carry in its train
misery or happiness of your future life."
- " Stick a pin in that also, Doctor," said I. v. V : , ;

Here Cutler and the Pilot cut short our conversation by going
on board. But Peter wouldn't hear of my leaving his house, and
I accordingly spent thei night there, not a little amused with my
new acquaintances.

no
lei!
th(

the

t ?■

iij-K-ii im i'

Mi Hi
'i

jPhI' !

CHAPTER V.

A NEW WAT TO LEARN GAELIC.

-5 V

After the Captain and the Pilot had retired, sais I, " Miss Jessie,
sposin we young folks — (ah, me, it is time to get a new word, I
guess, for that one has been used so long, it's e'en amost worn out
now) — sposin we young folks leave the Doctor and your father to
finish their hnntin' stories, and let us go to the other room, and
have a dish of chat about things in general, and sweethearts in par>
ticular."

" Oh, we live too much alone here," said she, " to know anything
of such matters, but we will go if you will promise to tell us one
of your funny stories. They say you have written a whole book
full of them ; how I should like to see it.

" Would you ]" said I, " Miss, well, then, you shall have one, for
I have a copy on board, I believe, and I shall be only too proud if
you will read it to remember me by. But my best stories aint in
my books. Somehow or another, when I want them they won't
come, and at other times when I get agoin' talkin', I can string them
together like onions, one after the other, till the twine is out. I
have a heap of them, but they are all mixed and confused like in
my mind, and it seems as if I never could find the one I need/ Do
you work in worsted. Miss 1"

" Wdl, a little," sais she. *^ It is only town-bred girls, who have

A NBW WAT TO LEABlff OAELIO.'

proverbs*

ed than I
d to make

, the law.

ou take?
e bans of
) I am the
V ^ ^Ax:,.
"How
1 its train

hy gouiff
ouse, and
with my

■JC

-■r;'<'"p«

ss Jessie,
' word, I
vorn out
father to
*om, and
8 in par-

mything
I us one
)le book

one, for
roud if
aint in
Y won't
ig them
out. I
like in
d; Do

Mohave

nothing to attend to but their dre^s, and to go to balls, that have
leisure to amuse themselves that way ; but I can work a little,
though I never couM do anythin' fit to be seen or exatnined."

" I shouldn't wonder," said I, and I paused, and she looked as if
she didn't over half like my taking her at her word that way. " I
shouldn't wonder," said I, " for 1 am sure your eyes would fade
the color out of the worsted."

" Why, Mr. Slick," said she, drawing herself up a bit, " what
nonsense you do talk, what a quiz you be."

" Fact," sais I, " Miss, I assure you, never try it agaiti, ybti will
be sure to spoil it. But as I was a sayin,' Miss, when you see a
thread of a particular color, you know whether you have any more
like it or not, so when a man tells me a story, I know whether I
have one of the same kind to match it or not, and if so, I know
where to lay my hand on it ; but I must have a cliie to my yams.'*

Squire, there is something very curious about memory ; I don't
think there is such a thing as total forgetfulness. I used once to
think there was, but I don't now. It used to seem to me that
things rusted out, but now it appears as if they were only mis-
placed, or overlaid, or stowed away like where you car 't find
them ; but depend on it, when once there, they remain forever.
How oflen you are asked, " Don't you refeoUect this or that 1" and
you answer, "No, I never heard, or saw it, or read it," as the case
may be. And when the time, and place, and circumstances are
told you, you say, " Stop a bit, I do now mind something about it,
wam't it so and so, or this way, or that way," and finally up it
comes, all fresh to your recollection. Well, until you get the clue
given you, or the key note is struck, you are ready to take your
oath you never heard of it afore. Memory has many cells. Some
of them aint used much, and dust and cobwebs get about them,
and you can't tell where the hinge is, or can't easily discern the
secret spring ; but open it once, and whatever is stowed away there
is as safe and sound as ever. I have a good many capital stories
poked away in them cubby-holes, that I can't just lay my hand on
when I want to, but now and then, when lookmg for something
else, I stumble upon them by accident. Tell you what, as for fbr-
gettin' a thing teetotally, I don't believe there is sich a thing in
natur. But to get back to my story.

" Missi" sais I, " I can't just at this present moment call to mind
a story to please you. Some of them are about hosses, or clocks,
or rises taketi out of folks, or dreams, or courtships, or ghosts, or
what not ; but few of them will answer, for they are either too
short or too long."

" Oh," says Catherine Fraser, " tell us a, courtship j I dare say
you wiU mcJce great fun of it."

*;*^..

A NSW WAT TO LEABK OABLIO.

liiiii

, " No, no," says Jessie, " tell us a ghost story. Oh ! I delight in
them." ,^ .» ♦».,..

" Oh," said Janet, " tell us about a dream. I know one myself
which came out as correct as provin' a sum."

" That's it, Miss Janet," said I ; "do you tell me that story,
please, and it's hard if I can't find one that will please you in return

«)r it." J., jK.n.U:.fa»< >:.^;

" Yes, do, dear," said Jessie ; " tell Mr. Slick that story, for it's
a true one, and I should like to hear what he thinks of it, or how
he can account for it."

, " Well," said Janet, " you must excuse me, Mr. Slick, for any
mistakes I make, for I don't speak very good English, and I can
hardly tell a story all through in that language.

" I have a brother that lives up one of the branches of the
Buctouche River in New Brunswick. He bought a tract of land
there four or five years ago, on which there was a house and barn,
and about a hundred acres of cleared land. He made extensive
improvements on it and went to a great expense in clearing up the
stumps, and buying stock and farming implements, and what not.
One season, between plantin' and harvest, he run short of money
for his common daily use, and to pay some little debts he owed,
and he was yery dull about it. He said he knew he cuuld come
here and borrow it from father, but he didn't like to be away from
home so long, and hardly knew how the family was to get on or
to pay the wages till his return, so it was agreed that I was to go
the next Monday in a vessel bound for Halifax and bring l^m
what he wanted.

" At that time, he had a field back in the woods he wad cultiva-
ting. Between that and the front on the river, was a poor sand-
flat covered with spruce, birch, and poplar, and not worth the
expense of bringing to for the plough. The road to the back field
ran through this wood land. He was very low-spirited about his
situation, for he said if he was to borrow the money of a merchant,
he would require a mortgage on his place, and perhaps sell it
before he knew where he was. Well, that night he woke up his
wife, and said to her,

" *Mary,' said he, 'I have had a very curious dream just now. I
dreamed that as I was going out to the back lot with the ox-cart, I
found a large sum of money all in dollars in the road there.

" ' Well,' says Mary, * 1 wish it was true, John, but it is too
good news for us. The worriment we have had about money
lately has set you a dreaming. Janet sails on Monday, she will
soon be back, and then it will all be right ; so go to sleep again,
dear.'

" Well, in the morning, when he and his wife got up, he never
spoke or thought any more about the dream, but as soon as break-

he I
m£
ale

▲ NEW WAT TO LBABN GASLIO.

delight fn

le myself

lat story,
in return

y, for it's
t, or how

If for any
m^ I can

3s of the
t of land
md barn,
extensive
ig up the
A^hat not.
►f money
he owed,
aid come
v&y from
Bt on or
'^as to go
•ingl5jm

cultiva-
or sand-
orth the
ack field
)out his
erchant,
sell it
3 up his

now. I
x-cart, I
J.

b is too

money

she will

> again,

never
I break-

&st was over, he and his man yoked up the oxen, put them to the
cart, and lifted the harrow into it, and started for the field. The
servant drove the team, and John walked behind with his head
down, a turning over in his nfhid whether he couldn't sell some-
thing off the farm to keep matters a-goin^ till I should return, when,
all at once as they were passing through the wood, he observed
that there was a line of silver dollars turned up by one of the
wheels of the cart, and continued for the space of sixty feet, and
then ceased.

" The moment he saw the money, he thought of his dream, and
he was so overjoyed that he was or ' ■'c 't of calling out tc '*""
man to stop, btit he thought it wua mor rudent as they w e
alone in the woods to say nothing about it. So he walked on, and
joined the driver, and kept Mm in talk for a while. And then, as
if he had suddenly thought of something, said, ' Jube, do you pro-
ceed to the field and go to work till I come. I shall have to go to
the house for a short time.'

" Well, as soon as he got out of sight of the cart, off he ran
home as hard as he could lay legs to it, only stopping to take up a
handful of the coins to make sure they were real.

" ' Mary, Mary,' sais he, ' the dream has come true ; I have
found the money — see here is some of it; there is no mistake;'
and he threw a few pieces down on the hearth and rung them.
*■ They are genuine Spanish crowns. Do you and Janet bring the
market basket, while I go for a couple of hoes, and let us gather it
all up.' ; '

" Well, sure enough, when we came to the place he mentioned,
there was the wheel-track full of dollars. He and I hoed each side
of the rut, which seemed to be in a sort of yellow powder, like the
dust of rotten wood, and got out all we could find. We afterwards
tried under the opposite wheel, and behind and before the rut, but
could find no more, and when we got home we counted it, and
found we had eighty-two pounds, five shillings.

" ' Well, this is a God send, Mary, aint it 1 said brother, and
she threw her arms round his neck, and cried for joy as she
kissed him.' "

" Which way, said I, " show me. Miss, how she did it, only you
may laugh instead of crying, if you like."

" Not being a wife," said she, with great quickness, " I cannot
show you myself, but you may imagine it ; it will do just as well,
or dream it, and that wilt do better.

" Well, John was a scrupulous man, and he was determined to
restore the money, if he could find an owner for it ; but he could
hear of no one who had lost any, nor any tradition in that place
that any one ever had done so since the first settlement of the
country. All that he could discover was, that about forty years

It '

▲ KBW WAT TO LSABN GASLIO.

ill 1 1'

i! ;

before, an old Frenchman had lived somewhere thereabouts alone,
in the midst of the woods. Who he was, or what became of him,
nobody knew ; all he could hear was, that a party of lumbermen
had, some years afterwards, found his house amidst a second
growth of young wood, that wholly concealed it, and that it
contained his furniture, cooking utensils, and trunks, as he had
left them. Some supposed he had been devoured by bears or
wolves ; others, that he had been lost in the woods ; and some,
that he had died by his own hands.

'^ On hearing this, John went to examine his habitation, or the
remains of it, and he found that about four acres around it were
covered with the second growth, as it is called, which was plainly
to be distinguished from the fbrest, as the trees were not only not
so large, or so old as the neighboring ones, but, as is always the
case, were of a different description of wood altogether. On a
careful inspection of the spot where he found the money, it
appeared that the wheel had passed lengthways along an enor-
mous old decayed pine, in the hollow of which he supposed the
money must have been hid ; and when the tree fell, the dollars
had rolled along its centre fifty feet or more, and remained there
until the wood was rotten, and had crumbled into dust.

" There, Sir, there is my story ; it is a true one, I assure you,
for I was present at the time. What do you think of it ? "

" Well," sais I, " if he had never heard a rumor, nor had any
reason to suppose that the money had been hid there, why it was

a singular thing, and looks very much like a " U ,'

< " Like a what," said she.

" Like a supply that one couldn't count upon a second time,
that's all."

" It's a dream that was fulfilled, though," she said ; " and that
don't often happen, does it ? "* \ .;>.

" Unless," sais I, " a young lady was to dream now, that she
was a going to be married to a certain person, and that does
often come true. Do you ? "

" Oh, nonsense," said she. " Come, do you tell us your story
now, you know you promised me you would, if f related mine."

" Yes," said Miss Jessie ; " come now, Mr. Slick, that's a good
man, do ? "

Sais I, " Miss, I will give you my book instead, and that will
tell you a hundred of them."

" Yes, but when will you give it to me ?" she replied. •

*' To-morrow," said I, " as soon as I go on board. But mind,

thoii

haps
was
and

* The names of the persons and river are alone chanced in this extraordinaty
gtoiy. The actors are still living, and are persons of undoubted veracity and
tMpectability.

A KBW WAtr TO LBABlff GAELIC.

outs alone,
me of him,
lumbermen
b a second
nd that it
as he had
J bears or
and some,

bion, or the
nd it were
nras plainly
Dt only not
always the
ler. On a
money, it
; an enor-
pposed the
the dollars
lined there

issure you,

)r had any
R^hy it was

cond time,

"and that

1^ that she
that does

j^our story
I mine."
It's a good

that will

3ut mind,

•

xtraordinaty
veracity and

there is one condition." And I said in Gselic : " Feumifth thu pog
thoir dhomh eur a shon\ (you must give me a kiss for it.")

" Oh," said she, looitin' not over pleased, I consaited ; but, per-
haps, it was because the other girls laughed like anything, as if it
was a capital joke, " that's not fair ; you said you would give it,
and now you want to sell it. If that's the case, I will pay the
money for it."

" Oh, fie," sais I, "Miss Jessie."

« Well, I want to know !" -

" No, indeed ; what I meant was to give you that book to re-
member me by when I am far away from here, and I wanted
you to give me a little token do bhilean hoidheach (from your
pretty lips,) that I should remember the longest day I live."

" You mean that you would go away, laugh, and forget right
off. No, that won't do, but if you must have a token I will look
up some little keepsake to exchange for it. " Oh, dear, what a
horrid idea," she said, quite scorney like, " to trade for a kiss ; it's
the way father buys his fish, he gives salt for them, or flour, or
some such barter, oh, Mr. Slick, I don't think much of you. But
for goodness gracious sake how did you learn Gaelic 1"

" From lips, dear," said I, " and that's the reason. I shall never
forget it."

" No, no," said she, " but how on earth did you ever pick it up.'*

*' 1 didn't pick it up. Miss," said I, " I kissed it up, and as you
want a story I might as well tell you that as any other."

" It depends upon what sort of a story it is," said she, coloring.

" Oh, yes," said the Campbell girls who didn't appear quite so
skittish as she was, " do tell us, no doubt you will make a funny
one out of it. Come, begin."

Squire, you are older than I be, and I suppose you will think
all this sort of thing is clear sheer nonsense, but depend upon it a
kiss is a great mystery. There is many a thing we know that we
can't explain, still we are sure it is a fact for all that. Why
should there be a sort of magic in shaking hands, which seems
only a mere form, and sometimes a painful one too, for some folks
wring your fingers off amost and make you fairly dance with pain,
they hurt you so. It don't give much pleasure at any time.
What the magic, of it is, we can't tell, but so it is for all that. It
seems only a custom like bowing and nothing else, still there is
more in it than meets the eye. But a kiss fairly electrifies you, it
warms your blood and sets your heart a beatin' like a brass drum,
and makes your eyes twinkle like stars in a frosty night. It tante
a thing ever to be forgot. No language can express it, no letters
will give the sound. Then what in natur is equal to the flavor of
it 1 What an arom.i, it has ! How spiritual it is. It ain't gross,
for you can't feed on it, it don't cloy, for the palate ain't required

A. NEW WAT TO LXABN OAELIO.

iii

to test its taste. It is neither visible, nor tangible, nor portable,
nor transferable. It is not a substance, nor a liquid, nor a vapor.
It has neithe" Dolor nor form. Imagination can't conceive it. It
can't be imicated or forged. It is confined to no clime or country,
but is ubiquitous. It is disembodied when completed, but is in-
stantly reproduced and so is immortal. It is as old as the creati( >n
and yet is as young and fresh as ever. It pre-existed, still exists,
and always will exist. It pervades all natur. The breeze as it
passes kisses the rose, and the pendant vine stoops down and hides
with its tendrils its blushes, as it kisses the limpid stream that
M'aits in an eddy to meet it, and raises its tiny waves, like anxious
lips to receive it. Depend upon it Eve learned it in Paradise, and
was taught its beauties, virtues and varieties by an angel, there is
something so transcendent in it.

How it is adapted to all circumstances ! There is the kiss of
welcome and of parting, the long-lingering, loving present one, the
stolen or the mutual one, the kiss of love, of joy, and of sorrow,
the seal of promise, and the receipt of fulfilment. Is it strange
therefore that a woman is invincible whose armory consists of
kisses, smiles, sighs, and tears 1 Is it any wonder that poor old
Adam wi^s first tempted, and then ruined 1 It is very easy for
preachers to get up with long faces, and tell us he ought to have
been more of a man. My opinion is, if he had been less of a man,
it would have been better for him. But I am not agoin' to preach ;
so I will get back to my story ; but, Squire, I shall always main-
tain to my dying day, that kissing is a sublime mystery.

" Well," sais I, " ladies, I was broughten up to home, on my
father's farm, and my edecation, what little I had of it, I got from
the Minister of Slickville, Mr. Joshua Hopewell, who'^was a friend
of my father's, and was one of the best men, I believe, that ever
lived. He was all kindness, and all gentleness, and was, at the
same time, one of the most learned men in the United States. He
took a great fancy to me, and spared no pains with my schooling,
and I owe everything I have in the world to his instruction. I
didn't mix much with other boys, and, from living mostly with
people older than myself, acquired an old-fashioned way that I
have never been able to shake off yet ; all the boys called me " Old
Slick." In course, I didn't learn much of life tha*} way. All I
knew about the world beyond our house and hisin, was from books,
and from hearing him talk, and he convarsed better than any book
I ever set eyes on. Well, in course I grew up unsophisticated
Uke, and I think I may say I was as innocent a young man as ever
you see."

Oh, how they all laughed at that ! " You ever innocent !" said
they. " Come, that's good ; we like it ; it's capital ! Sam Slick
au innocent boy ! Well, that must have been before you were

wean

are,

amos

most
go fo
dry,
time

▲ NEW WAT TO LBABN OABLIO.

>r portable,
lor a vapor,
jeive it. It
or country,
I, but is in-
the creatif »n
still exists,
freeze as it
n and hides
(tream that
ike anxious
iradise, and
;el, there is

the kiss of
;nt one, the
of sorrow,
it strange
consists of
.t poor old
7 easy for
;ht to have
I of a man,
to preach ;
fays main-

•

tie, on my
I got from
as a friend

that ever
^as, at the
;ates. He

schooling,
ruction. I
ostly with
ray that I

me "Old
iy. All I
om books,

any book
>histicated
an as ever

ent !" said

Sam Slick

you were

weaned, or talked in joining hand, at any rate. How simple we
are, ain't we ?" and they laughed themselves into a hooping-cough
amost. ,

" Fact, Miss Janet," said I, " I assure you," (for she seemed the
most tickled at the idea of any of them,) " I was, indeed. I won't
go for to pretend to say, some of it didn't rub off when it became
dry, when I was fishing in the world on my own hook ; but, at the
time I am speaking of when I was twenty-one next grass, I was
so guileless, I couldn't see no harm in anything."

" So I should think," said she ; " it's so like you."

" Well, at that time there was a fever, a most horrid typhus
fever, broke out in Slickville, brought there by some shipwrecked
emigrants. There was -a Highland family settled in the town, the
year afore, consisting of old Mr. Duncan Chisholm, his wife, and
daughter Flora. The old people were carried off by the disease,
and Flora was lefb without friends or means, and the worst of it
was, she could hardly speak a word of intelligible English. Well,
Minister took great pity on her, and spoke to father about taking
her into his house, as sister Sally was just married, and the old
lady left without any companion ; and they agreed to take her ^
one of them, and she was, in return, to help mother all she could.
So, next day she came, and took up her quarters with us. Oh
my. Miss Janet, what a beautiful girl she x&a ! She was as tall as
you are, Jessie, and had the same delicate little feet and hands."

I threw that in on purpose, for women, in a general way, don't
like to hear others spoken of too extravagant, particularly if you
praise them for anything they hain't got ; but if you praise tnem
for anything they pride themselves on, they are satisfied, because
it shows you estimate them also at the right valy, too. It took,
for she pushed her foot out a little, and rocked it up and down
slowly, as if she was rather proud of it.

" Her hair was a rich auburn, not red (I don't like that at all,
for it is like a lucifer match, apt to go off into a flare spon-
tainiously sometimes,) but a golden color, and lots of it too, just
about as much as she could cleverly manage ; eyes like diamonds ;
complexion, red and white roses ; and teeth, not quite so regular
as yours. Miss, but as white as them ; and lips — lick ! — they re-
minded one of a curl of rich rose-leaves, when the bud first begins
to swell and spread out with a sort of peachy bloom on them,
ripe, rich, and chock full of kisses."

" Oh, the poor ignorant boy ! " said Janet, " you didn't know
nothing, did you ? "

" Well, I didn't," sals I, " I was as innocent as a child ; but
nobody is so ignorant as not to know a splendiferous gall when he
sees her," and I made a motion of my head to her, as much as to
say, " Put that cap on, for it justs fits you."

-K-.l^..--

.70

A NSW WAT TO LBABN GAELIC.

IS V,

III

|5S''^ i'f!

" My sakes, what a neck she had ? not too long and thin, for
that looks goosey ; nor too short and thick, for that gives a clumsy
appearance to the figure ; but betwixt and between, and perfection
always lies there, just raid way between extremes. But her bust
— oh ! the like never was seen in Slickville, for the ladies there, in
a gineral way, have no — "

" Well, well," said Jessie, a little snappish, for praisin' one gall
to another ain^t the shortest way to win their regard, *' go on with
your story of Gaelic."

" And her waist, Jessie, was the most beautiful thing, next to
your'n I ever see. It was as round as an apple, and anything that
is round, you know, is larger than it looks, and I wondered how
much it would measure. I never see such an innocent girl as she
was. Brought up to home, and in the country, like me, she knew
no more about the ways of the world that I did. She was a mere
child, as I was ; she was only nineteen years old, and neither of us
knew anything of society rules. One day I asked her to let me
measure her waist with my arm, and I did, and then she measured
mine with hcr'n, and we had a great dispute which was the largest,
and we tried several times, before we ascertained there was only
qn inch difference between us. I never was so glad in my life as
when she came to stay with us ; she was so good-natured, and so
cheerful, and so innocent, it was quite charming.

" Father took a wonderful shindy to her, for even old men can't
help liking beauty. But somehow, I don't think mother did ; and
it appears to me now, in looking back upon it, that she was afraid
I should like her too much. I consaited she watched us out of the
corner of her glasses, and had her ears open to hear what we said ;
but p'raps it was only my vanity, for I don't know nothin' about
the working of a woman's heart even now. I am only a bachelor
yet, and how in the world should 1 know anything more about any
lady than what 1 knew about poor Flora ? In the ways of women
I am still as innocent as a child ; I do believe that they could
persuade me that the moon is nothin' but an eight-day clock with
an illuminated face. I ain't vain, I assure you, and never brag of
what I don't know, and I must say, I don't even pretend to under-
stand them."

" Well, I never 1 " said Jessie.

" Nor 1," said Janet.

" Did you ever, now ! " said Catherine. " Oh, dear, how soft
you are, ain't you?"

" Always was, ladies," said I, " and am still as soft as dough,
Father was very kind to her, but he was old and impatient, and a
little hard of hearing, and he couldn't half the time understand her.
One day she came in with a message from neighbor Dearborne^
and sais she.

fatl
bo(
nat
tel

:c.

A NEW WAT TO LEABN OASLIO.

and thin, for
fives a clumsy
ind perfection
But her bust
tdies there, in

mm* one gall
"go on with

hing, next to
anything that
'ondered how
Qt girl as she
ne, she knew
B was a mere
neither of us
er to let me
\he measured
s the largest,
3re was only
in my life as
ured, and so

Id men can't
ter did ; and
te was afraid
IS out of the
lat we said ;
othin' about
y a bachelor
e about any
s of women
they could
r clock with
ver brag of
id to under-

r, how soft

as dough,
tient, and a
»rstand her.
Dearborne^

«» Father— ♦

" * Colonel, if you please, dear,' said mother, * he is not your
father ;' and the old lady seemed as if she didn't half f&ncy any
body calling him that but her own children. Whether that is
natural or not. Miss Jessie," said I, " I don't know, for how can I
tell what women thinks."

" Oh, of course not," said Jane, " you are not way wise and
so artless ; you don't know, of course ! ''

" Exactly," sals I ; " but I thought mother spoke kinder cross to
her, and it confused the gall.

" Says Flora, ' Colonel Slick, Mr. Dearbome says — says — *
Well, she couldn't get the rest out ; she couldn't fin4 the English.
* Mr. Dearbome says — '

" ' Well, what the devil does he say ? * said father, stampin' hvi
foot, out of all patience with her.

" It frightened Flora, and off she went out of the room, crying
like anything.

" That girl talks worse and worse,' said mother.

" ' Well, I wont't say that,' says father, a little mollified, * for
she can't talk at all, so there is no worse about it. I am sorry
though I scared her. I wish somebody would teach her English.

" ' I will,' sais I, ' father, and she shall teach me Gaelic in
return.

" ' Indeed you shan't,' sais mother ; * you have got something
better to do than laming her ; and as for Gaelic, I can't bear it.
It's a horrid outlandish language, and of no earthly use whatever ^
under the blessed sun. It's worse than Indian.'

" ' Do, Sam,' said father ; ' it's an act of kindness, and she is an
orphan, and besides, Gaelic may be of great use to you in life. I
like Gaelic myself; we had some brave Jacobite Highland soldiers
in our army in the war that did great service, but unfortunately
nobody could understand them. And as for orphans, when I ^hink
how many fatherless children we made for the British — '

"'You might have been better employed,' said mother, but he
didn't hear her, and went right on.

" ' I have a kindly feelin' towards them. She is a beautiful
girl that.'

" ' If it warn't for her carrotty hair and freckled face,' said
mother, looking at me, ' she wouldn't be so awful ugly after all,
would she ? '

" ' Yes, Sam,' sais father, * teach her English for heaven's sake ;
but mind, she must give you lessons in Gaelic. Languages is a
great thing.'

" ' It's great nonsense,' said mother, raisin' her voice.

" ' It's my orders,' said father, holding up his head and standing
erect. * It's my orders, marm, and they must be obeyed ; ' and. 1m

A NEW WAT TO LBABK OABLIO.

walked out of the room as stiff as a ramrod, and as grand as a
Turk.

" ' Sam,' sais mother, when we was alone, * let the gal be ; the
less she talks the more she'll work. Do you understand, my
dear?'

" * That's just my idea, mother,' sais I.

" 'Then you won't do no such nonsense, will you, Sammy 'i '

" * Oh no ! ' sais I, * I'll just go through the form now and then to.
please father, but that's all. Who the plague wants Gaelic 1 If
all the Highlands of Scotland were put into a heap, and then multi-
plied by three, they wouldn't be half as big as the White Moun-
tains, would they, marm "i They are just nothin' on the map, and
high hills, like high folks, are plaguy apt to have barren heads.'

" 'Sam,' said she a pattin' of me on the cheek, 'you have twice
as much sense as your father has after all. You take after me.'

" I was so simple, I didn't know what to do. So I said yes to
mother and yes to father ; for I knew I must honor and obey my
parents, so I thought I would please both. I made up my mind I
wouldn't get books to learn Gaelic or teach English, but do it by
talking, and that I wouldn't mind father seein' me, but I'd keep a
bright look out for the old lady."

" Oh dear ! how innocent that was, warn't it V* said they.

" Well, it was," said I ; 'I didn't know no better then, and I
don't now ; and what's more, I think I would do the same agin, if
it was to do over once more."

*' I have no doubt you would," said Janet.

" Well, I took every opportunity, when mother was not by to
learn words. I would touch her hand and say, ' What is that 1 '
And she would say, ' Lauch,^ and her arm, her head, and her cheek,
and she would tell me the names, and her eyes, her nose, and her
chin, and so on ; and then I would touch her lips, and say, ' What's
them ? ' And she'd say ' Bhileau,^ And then I'd kiss her, and say,
' What's that % ' And she'd say, ' Pog.^ But she was so artless,
and so was I ; we didn't know that's not usual unless people are
courtin ' ; for we hadn't seen anything of the world then.

" Well, I used to go over that lesson every time 1 got a chance,

^, and soon got it all by heart but that word Pog (kiss,) which I never

could remember. She said 1 was very stupid and I must say it

over and over again till I recollected it. Well, it was astonishing

^ how quick she picked up English, and what progress I made in

Gaelic ; and if it hadn't been for mother, who halted the language

like pyson, I do believe I shouM soon have ir.Astered it so as to

speak it as well as you do. But she tool' every opportuni};y she

- could to keep us apart, and whenever I yent into the room where

FlorCw was spinning, or ironing, she would either follow and take a

chair, and sit me out, or tend me away of an errand, or tell me to

r -■

▲ NEW WAT TO LEABN aABLIO.

grand as a

;al be ; the
rstand, my

nmy?*
md then to.
raelic? If
bhen multi-
iite Moun-
i map, and
heads.'
have twice
ter me.*
aid yes to
i obey my
my mind I
t do it by
I'd keep a

ley.

len, and I

eagin, if

not by to
is that r

ler cheeic,
and her
'What's
and say,

10 artless,

eople are

a chance,
ih I never
St say it
tonishing
made in
language
so as to
inij;y she
01 where
d take a
ill me to

go and talk to father, who was all alone in the parlor, and seemed
kinder dull. I never saw a person take such a dislike to the lan-
guage as she did ; and she didn't seem to like poor Flora either,
for no other reason as I could see under the light of the livin' sun,
but because she spoke it ; for it was impossible not to love her —
she was so beautiful, so artless, and so interesting, and so innocent.
But so it was.

" Poor thing ! I pitied her. The old people couldn't make out
half she said, and mother wouldn't allow me, who was the only per-
son she could talk to, to have any conversation with her if she
could help it It is a bad thing to distrust young people, it makes
them artful at last; and I really believe it had that effect on me to
a certain extent. The unfortun te girl often had to set up late
ironing, or something another. And if you will believe it now,
mother never would let me sit up with her to keep her company
and talk to her ; but before she went to bed herself, always saw
me off to my own room. Well, it's easy to make people go to
bed, but it aint just quite so easy to make them stay there. So
when I used to hear the old lady get fairly into hers, for my room
was next to father's, though we went by different stairs to them, I
used to go down in my stocking feet, and keep her company ; for
I pitied her from my heart. And then we would sit in the corner
of the fire-place and talk Gaelic half the night. And you can't
think how pleasant it was. You laugh, Miss Janet, but it really
was delightful ; they were the happiest hours I almost ever spent."

" Oh, I don't doubt it," she said, " of course they were.

" If you think so. Miss," said I, " p'raps you would finish the
lessons with me this evening, if you have nothing particular to do."

"Thank you. Sir," she said, laughing like anything. "I can
speak English sufficient for my purpose, and I agree with your
mother, Gaelic in this country is of no sort of use whatever ; at
least 1 am so artless and unsophisticated as to think so. But go
on. Sir." ,: , ;

" Well, mother two or three times came as near as possible
catching me, for she was awful afraid of lights and fires, she said,
and couldn't sleep sound if the coals weren't covered up with ashes,
the hearth swept, and the broom put into a tub of water, and she
used to get up and pop into the room very sudden ; and though
she warn't very light of foot, we used to be too busy repeating
words to keep watch as we ought."

" What an artless couple," said Janet ; " well I never ! how you
can have the face to pretend so, I don't know ! Well, you do beat
all !"

" A suspicious parent," sais I, " Miss, as I said before, makes an
artful child. I never knew what guile was before that. Well, one
night ; oh dear, it makes my heart ache to think of it^ it was the

A NEW WAT TO LBASN OABtXC.

'last we ever spent together. Flora was starching muslins, mother
had seen me off to my room, and then went to hers, when down I
crept in mj stockin' feet as usual, puts a chair into the chimney
comer, and we sat down and repeated our lessons. We came to
the word Poff (kiss), I always used to forget it ; and it*s very odd,
for it's the most beautiful one in -the language. We soon lost all
caution, and it sounded so loud and sharp it started mother ;: and
before we knew where we were, we heard her enter the parlor
which was next to us. In an instant 1 was off and behind the entry
door, and Flora was up and at work. Just then the old lady came .
in as soflly as possible, and stood and surveyed the room all round,
I could see her through the crack of the door, she actually seemed
disappointed at not finding me there.

" * What noise was that I heard Flora,' she said, speakin' as
mild as if she was actilly afraid to wake the cat up.

" Flora lifted the centre of the muslin, she was starching, with
one hand, and makin' a hollow under it in the palm of the other,
she held it close up to the old woman's face, and clapped it ; and
it made the very identical sound of the smack she had beard, and
the dear child repeated it in quick succession several times. The
old lady jumped back the matter of a foot or a more, she positively
looked skared, as if the old gentleman would think somebody was
a kissin' of her.

"Oh dear, I thought I should have teeheed right out. She
seemed utterly confounded, and Flora loo!:ed, as she was, the dear
critter, so artless and innoc^it I It dumbfoundered her completely.
Still she warn'l quite satisfied.

" ' What's this chair doing so far in the chimbley comer V said
«he.

" How glad I was there wam't two there. The fact is, we never
used but one, we was quite young, and it was always big enough
for us both.

" Flora talked Gaelic as fast as hail, slipt off her shoes, sat down
on it, put her feet to the fire, folded her arms across her bosom^
laid her head back and looked so s^ eet and so winnin' into mother's
face, and said, ' cha ri'eil Beurl,' (I have no English) and then pro-
ceeded in Gaelic,

" * If you hadn't sat in that place, yourself, when you was young,
I guess you wouldn't be so awful scared at it, you old goose.'

" I thought I never saw her look so lovely. Mother was not
quite persuaded she was wrong after all. She looked all round
agin, as if she was sure I was there, and then came towards the
door where I was, so I sloped up-stairs like a shadow on the wall,
and into bed in no time ; but she followed up and came close to
me, and holdia the candle in my face, said ; : »■ -'•

" ' Sam, are you asleep 1'*

s
a

%
a

)
1.

THE WOUNDS OF THE BBABT.

ins, mother
hen down I
be chimney
i^e came to
i very odd,
E>on lost all
[>therj and
the parlor
i the entry
lady came .
I all round,
lly seemed

ipeakin' as

3hi»g, with
the other,
3d it; and
beard, and
nries. The
i positively
ebody wa»

out. She
3, the dear
>mpletely.

ner 1' said

, we never
ig enough

sat down
jr bosom,
> mother's

then pro-
as young,
|»e.'

was not
all round
nrards the

the wall,

close to

- " Well, I didn't answer. ^

" ' Sam,* said she, ' why don*t you speak,* and she shook me.

"* Hullo,' sais I, pretendin' to wake up, * what's the matter!
have I overslept myself? is it time to get up V and I put out my
arm to rub my eyes, and lo and behold I exposed my coat sleeve.

" ' No, Sam,' said she, ' vou couldn't oversleep yourself, for you
havn't slept at all, you ain't even ondressed.'

" ' Ain't I,' said I, ' are you sure V

"*Why look here,' said she, throwin' down the clothes and
pullin' my coat over ray head till she nearly strangled me.

" ' Well, I shouldn't wonder if I hadn't stripped,' sais I. • When
a feller is so peskilly sleepy as J be, I suppose he is glad to turn
in any way.'

" She never spoke another word, but I saw a storm was brewin,
and I heard her mutter to herself, ' creation ! what a spot of work !
I'll have no teaching of mother tongue here.' Next morning she
sent me to Boston of an errand, and when I returned, two days
after. Flora was gone to live with sister Sally. I have never for-
given myself for that folly ; but roally it all came of our being so
artless and so innocent. There was no craft in either of us. She
forgot to remove the chair from the chimbley corner, poor siniple-
minded thing, and I forgot to keep my coat sleeve covered. Yes,
yes,' it all came of our being too innocent ; but that's the way,
ladies, I learned Gaelic." - - '

CHAPTER VI.
THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

When I took leave of the family I returned to the room where
I had left Peter and the Doctor, but they had both retired. And
as my chamber adjoined it, I sat by the fire, lighted a cigar, and
fell into one of my rambling meditations.

Here, sard I to myself, is another phase of life. Peter is at
once a Highlander, a Canadian, a trapper, a backwoodsman and a
coaster. His daughterig are half Scotch and half Indian, and have
many of the peculiarities of both races. There is even between
these sisters a wide difference in intellect, appearance, and innate
refinement. The Doctor has apparently abandoned his profession,
for the study of nature, and quit the busy haunts of men, lor the
solitude of the forest. He seems to tliink and act difierently from
any one else in the country. Here too w« have had Cutler, who l»

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

a scholar and a skilful navigator, filling the berth of a master of a
fishing craft. He began life with nothing but good principles, and
good spirits, and is now about entering on a career, which in a few
years will lead to a great fortune. He is as much out of place
where he is, ss a salmon would be in a horse pond. And here am
I, Squire, your humble servant, Sam Slick the clockmaker, not an
eccentric man, I hope, for I detest them, they are either mad, or
wish to be thought so, because madiiess, they suppose to be an
evidence of genius; but a specimen of a class not uncommon in the
States, though no other country in the world but Yankeedoodledum
produces it.

This is a combination, these colonies often exhibit, and what a
fool a man must be when character is written in such large print,
if he can't read it, even as he travels on horseback.

Of all the party assembled here to-night, the Scotch lasses alone,
who came in during the evening, are what you call every day galls.
They are strong, hearty, intelligent and good-natured, full of fun
and industry, can milk, churn, make butter and cheese ; card, spin
and weave, and will make capital wives for farmers of their own
station in life. As such, they are favorable representatives of their
class, and to my mind, far, ^ar above those that look down upon
them, who ape, but can't copy, and have the folly, because they
sail in the wake of larger craft to suppose they can be mistaken for
anything else than tenders. Putting three masts into a coaster
may make her an object of ridicule, but can never give her the ap-
pearance of a ship. They know this in England, they have got to
learn it yet in the Provinces.

Well, this miscellaneous collection of people affords a wide field
for speculation. Jessie is a remarkable woman, I must ask the
Doctor about her history. I see there is depth of feeling about
her, a simplicity of character, a singular sensitiveness, and a shade
of melancholy. Is it constitutional, or does it arise from her pecu-.
liar position ? I wonder how she reasons, and what she thinks,
and how she would talk, if she would say what she thinks. Has
she ability to build up a theory of her own, or does she, like half
the women in the world, only think of a thing as it occurs ? Does
she live in instances or in generalities, I'll draw her out and see.
Every order, where there are orders, and every class (and no
place is without them where women are) have a way of judging in
common with their ord6r or class. What is her station I wonder
in her own opinion ? What are her expectations ? What are her
notions of wedlock 1 All girls regard marriage as an enviable lot,
or a necessary evil. If they tell us they don't, it's because the
right man hante come. And therefore I never mind what' they
say on this subject. I have no doubt they mean it j but they don t
know what they are a talking about. " ^ " ' « '

THB WOUNDS OF THB HICABT.

You, Squire, may go into a ball-room, where there are two hun-
dred women. One hundred and ninety nine of them you will pass
with as much indifference as one hundred and ninety-nine pullets ;
but the two hundredth irresistibly draws you to her. There are one
hundred handsomer, and ninety-nine cleverer ones present ; but she
alone has the magnet that attracts you. Now, what is that mag-
net 1 Is it her manner that charms 1 is it her voice that strikes on
one of those thousand and one chords of your nervous system, and
makes it vibrate, as sound does hollow glass 1 Or do her eyes
affect your gizzard, so that you have no time to chew the cud of
reflection, and no opportunity for your head to judge how you can
digest the notions they have put into it ? Or is it animal magnet-
ism, or what the plague is it ?

You are strangely affected ; nobody else in the room is, and
everybody wonders at you. But so it is. It's an even chance if
you don't perpetrate matrimony. Well, that's a thing that sharp-
ens the eyesight, and will remove a cataract quicker than an oculist
can, to save his soul alive. It metamorphoses an angel into a wo-
man, and it's plaguey lucky if the process don't go on and change
her into something else.

Afler I got so far in my meditations, i lit another cigar, and took
out my watch to look at the time. " My eyes," sais I, " if it tante
past one o'clock at night. Howsomever, it aint oflen I get a
chance to be alone, and I will finish this here weed, at any rate."
Arter which I turned in. The following morning I did not rise as
early as usual, for it's a great secret for a man never to be in the
way, especially in a house like Peter's, where his daughters had, in
course, a good deal to see to themselves. So I thought I'd turn
over, and take another snoose ; and do you know. Squire, that is
always a dreamy one, and if your mind aint worried, or your di-
gestion askew, it's more nor probable you will have pleasant ones.

When I went into the keeping-room, I found Jessie and her
sister there, the table set, and everything prepared for me.

" Mr. Slick," said the elder one, " your breakfast is ready."

" But where is your father," said I, " and Doctor Ovey t"

" Oh, they have gone to the next harbor. Sir, to see a man who
is very ill there. The Doctor lefl a message for you ; he said he
wanted to see you again very much, and hoped to find you here on
his return, which will be about four o'clock in the aflernoon. He
desired me to say, if you sailed before he got back, he hoped you
would leave word what port he would find you in, as he would fol-
low you."

" Oh," said I, "we shall not go before to-morrow , at the earliest,
so he will be in very good time. But who in the world is Doctor
Ovey ? He is the most singular man I ever met. He is very eo-
ceutrio ; aint he ]"

THB WOUilDS OF tflB HfiAB^.

" I don't know who he is," she replied. " Father agrees with
you. He says he talks sometimes as if he was daft ; but that, I
believe, is only because he is so learned. He has a house away back
in the forest, where he lives occasionally ; but the greater part of
the year he wanders about the woods, and camps out like—."
Bhe hesitated a moment, and then brought out the reluctant word :
" an Indian. He knows the name of every plant and flower in the
country, and their uses ; and the nature of every root, or bark, or
leaf that ever was ; and then he knows all the ores, and coal mines,
and everything of that kind. He is a great hand at stuffing birds
and animals, and has some of every kind there is in the province.
As for butterflies, beetles, and those sorts of things, he will chase

them like a child all day. His house is a regular . I don't

recollect the word in English ; in Gaelic it is " tigh netn^hais.*^

" Museum ?" said I.

" Ah, that's it," said she. ' •

" He can'i have much practice," I said, " if he goes racing and
chasing over the country that way, like a run-away engine."

" He don't want it. Sir," she replied ; " he is very well off". He
says he is one of the richest men in the country, for he don't spend
half his income, and thpt any man who does that is wealthy. He
says he aint a Doctor. Whether he is or not, I don't know ; but
he makes wonderful cures. Nothing in the world makes him so
angry, as when anybody sends for him, that can afford a doctor, for
he don't take pay. Now, this morning he stormed, and raved, and
stamped, and tbamed at the mouth, as if he was mad ; he fairly
swore, a thing I never heard him do before ; and he seized the
hammer that he chips off stones with, and threatened the man so,
who come for him, that he stood with the door in his hand, while
he begged him to go."

" ' Uh, Sir,' said he, ' the Squire will die if you don't go.'

" ' Let him die, then,' he replied, * and be hanged. What is it
to me ? It serves him right. Why didn't he send for Doctor
Smith and pay him % Does he think I am a going to rob that man
of his living % Be off, Sir — off with you ! Tell him I can't come,
And won't come ; and do you go for a magistrate to make his will.'

" As soon as the man quitted the house, his fit left him.

" ' Well,* said he, ' Peter, I suppose we rausn't let the man
perish, after all ; but I wish he hadn't sent for me, especially just
now, for I want to have a long talk with Mr. Slick.*

" And he and father set off immediately through the woods."

" Suppose we beat up his quarters, Jessie," said I. " 1 should
like to see his house and collection amazingly."

" Oh," said she, " so should I, above all things ; but I wouldn't
him for the world. He'll do it for you, I know he will ; for

VHS WODHD8 or THB HSAST.

?rees with
but that, I
iway back
er part of

ant word :
ver in the
r bark, or
)al mines,
i^ng birds
province,
ivill chase
I don't
chais.'^

icing and

off. He
n't spend
hj. He
ow; but
s him so
>etor, for
tved, and
he fairly
^ized the
man so,
>d, while

lat is it
Doctor
hat man
't come,
lis wil].'

he man
illy just

ids."
should

ouldn't
ill ; for

he says you are a man after his own heart. You study nature so ;
and I don't know what all he said of you."

" Well, well," sais I, " old trapper as he is, see if I don't catch
him. I know how to bait the trap, so he will walk right into it.
And then, if he has anything to eat there, I'll show him how to
cook it woodsman fashion. I'll teach him how to dress a salmon ;
roast, boil, or bake. How to make a bee-hunter's mess ; a new
w;ay to do his potatoes camp-&shion ; and how to dispense with
kitchen-ranges, cabouses, or cooking-stoves. If I could only knock
over some wild ducks at the lake here, I'd show him a simple way
of preparing them that would make his mouth water, I know.
•Truth is, a man that lives in the country, ought to know a little of
everything, a'most, and he can't be comfortable if he don't. But
dear me, I must be a movin'."

So I made her a bow, and she made me one of her best court-
seys. And I held out my hand to her, but she didn't take it, tho'
I see a smile playin' over her face. The fact is, it's just as well
she didk't, for I intended to draw her — , Well, it ain't no matter
what I intended to do ; and, therefore, it ain't no use to confess
what I didn't realize.

" Truth is," said I, lingering a bit, not to look disappointed.

farmer ought to know what to raise, how to live, and where to
save. If two things are equally good, and one costs money, and
the other only a little trouble, the choice ain't difficult, is it V*

" Mr. Slick," sais she, " are you a farmer 1"

" I was bred and born on a farm, dear," sais I, " and on one,
too, where nothin' was ever wasted, and no time ever lost ; where
there was a place for everything, and everything was in its place.
Where peace and plenty reigned ; and where there was a shot in
the locker for the minister, another for the poor."

" You don't mean to say that you considered them gamef did
you ?" said she, looking archly. ;

" Thank you," sais I. " But now you are making game of me,
Miss : that's not a bad hit of yours, though ; and a shot for the
bank at the eend of the year. I know all about farm things, from
raisin' Indian corn down to managing a pea-hen ; the most difficult
thing to regulate, next to a wife, I ever see."

" Do you live on a farm now ?"

" Yes, when I am to home," sais I, " I have returned again to the
old occupation and the old place ; for, after all, what's bred in the
bone, you know, is hard to get out of the flesh, and home is home,
however homely. The stones, and the trees, and the brooks, and
tlie hills, look like old friends--don't vou think so 1"

" I should think so," she said ; " but I have never returned to
my home or my people, and never shall." And the tears rose in
her eyes, and she got up and wolksd to the window, and said, with

THE WOITKDB OF THE HEART*

her back towards me, as if she was looking at the weather : " The
Doctor has a fine day for his journey ; I hope he will return soon,
I think you will like him." ^ .* '

And then she came back and took her seat, as composed as if I
had never awakened those sad thoughts. JPoor thing I I knew
what was passing in her mind as well as if those eloquent tears had
not touched my heart. Somehow or another, it appears to me,
like a stumblin' horse, I am always a striking my foot agin some
stone, or stump, or root, that any fellow might see with half an
eye. She forced a smile, and said :

" Are you married. Sir ?" » - ^r-.

" Married !" sais I, " to be sure I am ; 1 married Flora."

" You must think me as innocent as she was, to believe that,"
she said, and laughed at the idea. ^^ How many children have
you 1"

" Seven," sais I :

"Richwd R, and Ira C,
Betsey Anne, and Jessie F^ ■
Sary D., Eugeen — E,
And Iren — ee."

" I have heard a great deal of you, Mr. Siick,** she said, " but
you are the queei'est man i ever see. You talk so serious, and
yet you are so full of fun."

" That's because I don't pretend to nothin', dearj" sais I j " I ana
just a nateral man. There is a time for all things, and a way to
do 'em, too. If 1 have to freeze down solid to a thing, why, then,'
ice is the word. If there is a thaw, then fnn and snow-ballin' is
the ticket. I listen to a preacher, and try to be the better for his
argufying, if he has any sense, and will let me ; and I lister ~ the
violin, and dance to it, if it's- in tune, and played right. I like my
pastime, and one day in seven is all the Lord asks. Evangelical
people say he wants the other six. Let them state day and date,
and book and page for that, for I won't take their word for it. So
I won't dance of a Sunday ; b«t show me a pretty gall, and give
me good music, and see if I don't dance any other day, I am not
a droll man, dear, but I say what 1 think, and do what I please, as
long as I know I ain^t saymg or doing wrong. And if that ain't
poetry, it's truth, that's all."

" I wish you knew the Doctor,'* said she ; " I don't understand
these things, but you are the only man I ever met that talked like
him, only he hante the fun you have ; but he enjoys fun beyond
everything. I must say I rather like him, though he is odd, and I
am sure you would, for you could comprehend many things he
says that I don't."

" It strikes me," sais I to myself, " for I thought, puttin' this and
that together; her rather likin' bim, and her desire to see his

THB WOUNDS OF THE HBABT.

er r " The
urn soon,

ed a» if |
t I knew
tears had
•s to me,
gin some
half an

ve that,"
ren have

lid, "but
ious, and

l;"Iiim
i waj to
fiy, then,
bailin' ia
for his
r - the
like my
mgellcal
nd date,
■it. So
nd give
am not
ease, as
at ain't

erstand
ed like
beyond
I, and I
tigs he

•

lis and
lee his

house, and her tryin' to flatter me that I talked like him ; that,
perhaps, like her young Gselio friend's brother, who dreamed of
the silver dollars, she might have had a dream of him."

So, sais I, " I have an idea, Jessie, that there is a subject, if he
talked to you upon, you could understand."

" Oh, nonsense," said she, rising and laughing ; " now do you go
on board and get me your book, and I will go and see about dinner
for the Doc — for my father and you." •_

Well, I held out my hand, and said,

" Good-morning, Miss Jessie. Recollect, when I bring you the
book, that you must pay the forfeit."

She dropt my hand in a minute, stood up as straight as a tragedy
actress, and held her head as high as the Queen of Sheby. She
gave me a look I shan't very easily forget, it was so full of scorn
and pride.

" And yoM, too. Sir," said she, " I didn't expect this of yoM,'*
and then left the room. . .

" Hullo !" sais I, " who's half-cracked now — you or the Doctor ?
It appears to me it's six of one and half-a-dozen of the other ;" and
1 took my hat and walked down to the beach, and hailed a boat.

About four, I returned to the house, and brought with me, as I
promised, the " Clock-maker." When I entered the room, I found
Jessie there, who received me with her usual ease and composure.
She was trimming a work-bag, the sides of which were made of
the inner rind of the birch-tree, and beautifully worked with por-
cupine quills and moose hair.

" Well," sais I, " that is the most delicate thing I ever saw in all
my born days. Creation, how that would be prized in Boston !
How on earth did you learn to do that ?" sais I.

" Why," said she, with an effort that evidently cost her a strug-
gle, " my people make and barter them at the Fort at the north-
west, for things of more use. Indians have no money."

It was the first time I had heard so distinct an avowal of her
American origin, and as I saw it brought the color to her face, I
thought I had discovered a clue to her natural pride, or, more pro-
perly, her sense of the injustice of the world, which is too apt to
look down upon this mixed race with open or ill-concealed con
tempt. The scurvy opens old sores, and makes them bleed
afresh, and. an unfeeling fellow does the same. Whatever else I
may be, I am not that man, thank fortune. Indeed, I am rather a
dab at dressin' bodily ones, and I won't turn my back in that line,
with some simples I know of, on any doctor that ever trod in shoe-
leather, with all his compounds, phials, and stiptics.

In a gineral way, they know just as much about their business as
a donkey does of music, and yet both of them practice ali day.
They don't make no improvements. They are like the birds of thd
4*

THE WOVNDB OF TflE BEABT.

air, And the beasts of the forest. Swallows build their nests year
after year, and generation after generation, in the identical same
fashion, and moose winter after winter, and century after century,
always follow each other's tracks. They consider it safer, it aint
so laborious, and the crust of the snow don't hurt their shins. If a
c/itter is duch a fool as to striko out a now path for himself, the
rest of the herd pass, and leave him to worry on, and he soon hears
the dogs in pursuit, and is run down and done for. Medical men
act in the same manner.

Brother Eldad, the doctor, used to say to me when riggin* him
on the subject :

" Sam, you are the most conceited critter I ever knew. You
have picked up a few herbs and roots, that have some virtue in
them, but not strength enough for us to give a place to in the phar-
macopoeia of medicine."

" Pharmacopia 1" sais I, " why, what in natur is that ? What
the plague does it mean 1 Is it bunkum ?"

"You had better not talk on the subject," said he, " if you don't
know the tarms."

" You might as well tell me," sais I, " that I had better not
speak English if I can't talk gibberish. But," sais I, " without
joking, now, when you take the husk off that, and crack the nut,
what do you call the kernel f

" Why," sais he, "it's a dispensary ; a book containin' rules for
compoundin' medicines."

. " Well, then, it's a receipt-book, and nothin' else, arter all. Why
the plague can't you call it so at once, instead of usin' a word that
would break the jaw of a German ?"

" Sam," he replied, " the poet says with great truth,

" ' A little learning is a dangerous thing,

Drink deep, or touch not the Pierian spring. ' "

" i)ear, dear," said I, " there is another strange sail hove in
sight, as I am alive. What flag does ' Pierian' sail under ?"

" The magpies," said he, with the air of a man that's a goin' to
hit you hard. " It is a spring called Pierus after a gentleman of
that name, whose daughters, that were as conceited as you be, were
changed into magpies by the Muses, for challenging them out to
sing. All pratin' fellows like you, who go about runnin' down
doctors, ought to be sarved in the same way."

" A critter will never be run down," said 1, "who will just take the
trouble to get ou of the way, that's a fa-^.t. Why on airth couldn't
the poet have said Magpian Spring, then all the world would under-
stand him. No, the lines would have had more sehse if they had
run this way : ,,

What

TBE WOUNBB OV TBB HEABT. 9$

*. !v V ' " ' A little phy«k! w a dangeroui thing ♦, '

Drink deep, or drink not of the doctor's spring," *

^:. . . :.; ..., ■ . '.-: .. , . . "i*''

Well, it made him awful mad^ sais he, "You talk of treating
>voui>ds -as all unskilful men do, who apply balsams and trash of
that kind, that half the time turns the wound into an ulcer ; and
then when it is too late, the doctor is sent for, and sometimes to
get rid of the sore, he has to amputate the limb. Now, what does
your reoeipt'bo-ak say t"

" It sais," sais I, **■ that natur alone makes the cure, and all you
got to do, is to stand by, and aid her in her efforts."

" That's all very well," said he, " if nature would only ell you
what to do, but nature leaves you like « Yankee quack as you are,
to guess,"

" Well,'' sais I, " I am a Yankee, and I aint above ownin' to it,
and so are youj but you seem asiiamed of your broughtens up, and
I must say I don't think you are any great credit to them. Natur,
though you don't know it, because you are all for ^t, does tell you
what to do, in a voice so clear you can't help hearing it, and in
language so plain, you can't help understandin' it. For it don't
use diain shot words like ' pharmacopoeia' and ' Pierian,' and so on,
that is neither Greek nor Latip, nor good English, nor vulgar
tongue. And more than that, it shows you what to do. And the
woods, mid the springs, and tlie soil is full of its medicines and
potions. Book doctorin' is like book farmin', a beautiful thing in
theory, but ruination in practice,"

" Well," said he, with a toss of his head, " this is very good
stump .oratory, and if you ever run agin a doctor at an election, I
shouldn't wonder if you won it, for wwjst people will join you in
pullin' down your superioi's."

That word superiors grigged me, thinks I, " My boy, I'll just take
that expression, roll it up into a ball, and shy it back at you, in a
way that will make you sing out, pen and ink, I know. " Well."
sais I, quite mild, (I am always mild when I am mad, a keen razor
is always snaooth) ; " have you any other thing to say about
natur V

" Yes," sais he, " do you know what healin' by the first intentioTi
w, for that is a nateral operation 1 Answer me that, will you 1"

" You mean the second intention, don't you ?" sais I.

"No," he replied, " I mean what I say,'*

" Well, Eldad," sais I, *' my brother, I will answer both. First,
about the election, and then about the process of healin', and after
that we won't argue no more, for you get so hot always, I am afraid
you will hurt my feelins. First," sais I, " I have no idea of runnin'
agin a doctor either at an election or elsewhere, so make yourself

THB WOUNDB OF THB HXABT.

Ifn- 'I

|i'

quite easy on that score, for if I did, as he i» my superior, I should
be sure to get the worst of it.'*

" How, Sam," said he, lookln' quite pleased, sedn' me kindei
knock under that way.

" Why dod drot it," sais I, " Eldad, if I was such a bom fool as
to run agin a doctor, his clothes would fill mine so chock full ot
asafoetida and brimstone, I'd smell strraig enough to pysen a poll
cat. Phew ! the very idea makes me sick ; don't come any neareir,
or I shall faint. Oh, no, I shall give my superiors a wide berth,
depend upon it. Then," sais I, " secondly, as to healin' by the first
intention, I have heard of it, bat never saw it practised yet. A
doctor's first intention is to make money, and the second is to heal
the wound. You have been kind enough to treat me to a bit of
poetry, now I won't be in your debt, so I will just give you two
lines in return. Arter you went to Philadelphia to study, Minister
used to make me learn poetry twice a week. All his books had
pencil marka in the margin, agin all the t' 1 bits, and I had to learn
more or less of these at a time, according to their lengtlw Among
others, I remeinber two verses that just suit you and me.

" ' To tongue or puddmg thou hast no pretence.

Learning thy talent i», but mine is BBifSB.' " ''' "'•<■■■'_

"Sam," said he, and he colored up, aad looked choked with
rage, "Sam,'*

"Dad," sais I, and it stopped him in a minute. It was th«
last syllable of his name, and when we was boys, I always called
him Dad, and as he was older than me, I sometimes called him
Daddy on that account. It touched him, I see it did. .Sais I,
" Dad, give me your daddle, fun is fun, and we may carry our fusi
too far,'° and we shook hands. " Daddy," sais I, " since I became
an author, and honorary corresponding member of the Slang-
w hanger Society, your occupation and mine ain't much unlike
isitr'

"Howl" said he. . .

" Why, Dad," sais I, " you cut up the dead, and I eut up the
livin."

" Well," sais he, "I give less pain, at my rate, and besides, I do
more good, for I make the patient leave a legacy to posterity, by
furnishing instruction in his own body."

" You don't need to wait for dissection for the bequest," sais I,
" for many a fellow after amputation, has said to you, ' a-leg-Isee.^
But why is sawing off a leg sm. nnprojitable thing I Do you give
it up ? Because it's always bootless"

" Well," said he, " why is an author the laziest man in the
world 1 Do you give that up % Because be is most of his time
n sheets."

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEABT.

"Well, that is better tl an being two sheets in the wind," I
Periled. " But why is he the greatest coward in creation in hot
weather? Because he is afraid somebody will quilt him."

'' Oh, oh," said he, " that is an awful bad one. Oh, oh, that is
like lead, it sinks to the bottom, boots, spurs and all. Oh, come,
that will do, you may take my hat. What a droll fellow you be.
You are the old sixpence, and nothin' will ever change you. I
never see a feller have such spirits in my life ; do you know what
pain is 1 "

" Oh," sais I, " Dad," and I put on a very sad look, " Daddy,"
sals I, " my heart is most broke, though I don't say anythin' about
it. There is no one I can confide in, and I can't sleep at all. I
was thinkin' of consultin' you, for I know I can trust you, and 1
am sure your kind and affectionate heart will feel for me, and that
your sound, excellent judgment will advise me what is best to be
done under the peculiar circumstances."

"Sam," said he, *'my good fellow, you do me no more than
justice," and he took my hand very kindly, and sat down beside
me. " Sam, I am very sorry for you. Confide in me ; I will be
as secret as the grave. Have you consulted dear old Minister f '

" Oh, no," said I, " Minister is a mere child."

" "rrue, true, my brother," said he, " he is a good worthy man,
but a mere child, as you say. Is it an affair of the heart, Sam 1 "

" Oh, no," sais I, " I wish it was, for I don't think I shall ever
die of a broken heart for any one, it don't pay."

" Is it a pecuniary affair ? "

" No, no, if it was it might be borne, an artful dodge, a good
spekelation, or a regular burst would soon cure that."

" I hope it ain't an affair of law," said he, lookin' frightened to
death, as if I had done something dreadful bad.

" No, si wish it was, for a misnomer, an alibi, a nonjoinder, a
demurrer, a nonsuit, a freemason or a know-nothin' sign to a juror,
a temperance wink, or an orange nod to a partizan judge, or some
cussed quirk or quibble or another, would carry me through it.
No, it ain't that."

"What is it then?"

" Why," sais I, a bustin' out a larfin, " I am most dead some*
times with the jumpin' toothache."

" Well, well," said he, " I never was sold so before, I vow ; I
cave in, I holler, and will stand treat."

That's the way we ended our controversy about wounds.

But he may say what he likes, I consider myself rather a dab at
healing bodily ones. As to those of the heart, I haven't had th«!
experience, for I am not a father confessor to galls, and of course
aint consulted. But it appears to me clergyman don't know
much about the right way to treat them. The heart is a great

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

word. In itself it's nothin' but a thing that swells and contracts,
and keeps the blood a movin ; a sort of central post-office that

lliiil:

communicates with all the great lines and has way stations to all
the remote parts. Like that, there is no sleep in it day or night.
Love, hope, fear, despair, disappointment, ambition, pride, suppli-
cation, craft, cant, fraud, piety, speculation, secrets, tenderness,
bitterness, duty, disobedience, truth, falsehood, gratitude, humbug,
and all sorts of such things pass through it or wait till called for;
they "are thar.^^ All these are dispersed by railways, expresses,
fast and slow coaches and carriers. By a figure of speech all
these things are sumtotalized, and if put on paper, the depository
is called the post-office, and the place where they are conceived
and hatched and matured, the heart.

Well, neither the one nor the other has any feeling. They are
merely the edifices respectively designed for these operations.
The thing and its contents are in one case called the heart ; but
the contents only of the other are called the mail. Literally,
threfore, the heart is a muscle, or some such an affair, and nothing
more ; but figuratively it is a general term that includes, expresses,
and stands for all these things together. We talkof it, therefore, as
a living, animated, responsible being that thinks for itself, and acts
through its agents. It is either our spiritual part, or something
spiritual within us. Subordinate or independent of us — guiding or
obeying us — influencing or influenced by us. We speak of it, and
others treat it as separate, for they and we say our heart. We
give it a color and a character : it may be a black heart or a base
heart ; it may be a brave or a cowardly one ; it may be a sound
or a weak heart also, and a true or a false one ; generous or
ungrateful ; kind or malignant, and so on.

It strikes me natur \n'ould have been a more suitable one ; but
poets got hold of it, and they bedevil everything they touch.
Instead of speaking of a critter's heart, therefore, it would to my
mind have been far better to have spoke of the natur of the animal,
for I go the whole hog for human natur. But I suppose nobody
would understand me if I did, and would say I had no heart to say
so. I'll take it therefore as I find it — a thing having a body or
substance that can be hurt, and a spirit that can be grieved.

Well as such, I don't somehow think ministers in a general way
know how to treat it. The heart, in its common acceptation, is
very sensitive and must be handled gently ; if grisf is there, it
must be soothed and consoled, and hope called in to open vie^s of
better things. If disappointment has left a sting, the right way is
to show a sufferer it might have been wuss, or that if his wishes
had been fulfilled, they might have led to something more disas-
trous. If pride has been wounded, the patient must be hum'ored
by agreeing with him, in the first instance, that he has been shame.

THE WOUKDS OF THE UEABT

contracts,
aflice that
ons to all
Of night,
e, suppli.
nderness,
humbug,
illed for;
xpresses,
)eech all
jpository
oncelved

rhey are
erations.
irt; but
literally,
nothing
^presses,
■efore, as
and acts
mething
tiding or
f it, and
•t. We
r a base
a sound
rous or

ne; but
' touch,
i to my
animal,
nobody
t to say
body or

•

ral way
tion, is
here, it
ie^s of

way is

wishes
e disas-
imbred
shame.

fully used ; (for that admits his right to feel hurt, which is a great
thing :) and then he may be convinced he ought to be ashamed to
acknowledge it, for he is superior to his enemy, and in reality so
far above him it would only gratify him to think he was of conse-
quence enough to be hated. If he has met with a severe pecimiary
loss in business, he ought to be told it's the fortune of trade ; how
lucky he is he aint ruined, he can afford and must expect losses
occasionally. If he frets over it, it will hurt his mercantile credit,
and after all, he will never miss it, except in a figure in the bottom
of his balance-sheet, and besides, riches aint happiness, and how
little a man can get out of them at best ; and a minister ought to
be able to have a good story to tell him, with some point in it, for
there is a great deal of sound philosophy in a good anecdote.

He might say, for instance : *' Did you ever hear of John Jacob
Astorl"

" No, never."

" What, not of John Jacob Astor, the richest man in all the une-
varsal United States of America? The man that owns all the
brown and white bears, silver-gray and jet-black foxes, sables,
otters, stone martins, ground squirrels, and every created critter
that has a fur jacket, liway up about the North Pole, and lets them
wear them, for furs don't keep well, moths are death on 'em, and
too many at a time glut the market ; so he lets them run till he
wants them, and then sends and skins them alive in spring when it
ain't too cold, and waits till it grows again 1 "

" No, never," sais the man with the loss.

" Well, if you had been stript stark naked and turned loose that
way, you might have complained. Oh ! you are a lucky man, I
can tell you."

" Well," sais old Minus, " how in the world does he own all
them animals ^ '*

" If he don't," sais preacher, " perhaps you can tell me who
does ; and if 'obody else does, I think his claim won't be disputed
in no court under heaven. Don't you know him 1 Go and see
him. He will make your fortune as he has done for many others.
He is the richest man you ever heard of. He owns the Astor
House Hotel to New York, which is bigger than some whole towns
on the Nova Scotia coast." And he could say that with great
truth, for I know a town that's on the chart, that has only a court-
house, a groggery, a jail, a blacksmith's shop, and the wreck of a
Quebec vessel on the beach.

" Well, a inan went to him lately, and sais he : * Are you the
great John Jacob t '

" * I am John Jacob,' said he, ' but I aint great. The sun is so
almighty hot here in New York, no man is large ; he is roasted
down like a race-horse.'

THB WOUNDS OP THE HEART.

i I

., §.^

" * I don't mean that,' said the poor man, bowin' and beggin'
pardon.

" ' Oh,' sais he, ' you mean great-grandfather,' laughing. ' No, I
hante come that yet ; but Astoria Ann Oregon, my granddaughter,
says I am to be about the fore part of next June.'

" Well, the man see he was getting rigged, so he came to the
pint at once. Sais he, ' Do you want a clerk ? '

" ' I guess I do,' said he. ' Are you a good accountant ? '

" ' Have been accountant-book-keeper and agent for twenty-five
years,' sais stranger.

" Well, John Jacob see the critter wouldn't suit him, but he
thought he would carry out the joke. Sais he, ' How would you
like to take charge of my almighty everlastin' property V

" ' Delighted ! ' says the goney.

" ' Well,' said Mr. Astor, * I am tired to death looking after it ;
if you will relieve me and do my work, I'll give you what I get out
of it myself!'

" * Done ! ' said the man, takin' off his hat, and bowin' down to
the ground. ' I am under a great obligation to you ; depend upon
it you will get a good account of it.'

" * I have no doubt of it,' said John Jacob. ' Do your part faith-
fully,' (' Never fear me,' said the clerk.) ' and honestly I will fulfil
mine. All I get out of it is my board and clothing, and you shall
have the same.'

" Ah ! my friend," the preacher might say, " how much wisdom
there is in John Jacob Astor's remark. What more has the Queen
of England, or the richest peer in the land, out of all their riches
than * their board and clothing.' So don't repine, my friend.
Cheer up ! I will come and fast on canvas back duck with you to-
morrow, for it's Friday ; and whatever lives on aquatic food is
fishy— a duck is twice laid fish. A few glasses of champagne at
dinner, and a cool bottle or two of claret after will set you all
right again in a jiffy."

If a man's wife races off and leaves him, which aint the highest
compliment he can receive, he should visit him ; but it's most
prudent not to introduce the subject himself. If broken-heart talks
of it, minister shouldn't make light of it, for wounded pride is
mighty tender, but say it's a dreadful thing to leave so good, so
kind, so indulgent, so liberal, so confidin' a man as you, if the case
will bear it, (in a general way it's a man's own fault) ; and if it
won't bear it, why then there really is a guilty man, on whom he
can indulge himself, to expend a few flowers of speech. And arter
restin' here awhile, he shouli hint at the consolation that is always
offered, " of the sea having better fish than ever was pulled out of
it," and so on.

Well the whole catalogue offers similar topics, and if a man

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

-nd beggin*

ig. 'No, I
iddaughter,

ime to the

It?'
twenty-five

im, but he
would you

ig after it ;
it I get out

a' down to
spend upon

part faith-
I will fulfil
i you shall

ch wisdom
the Queen
heir riches
ny friend,
ith you to-
tic food is
mpagne at
let you all

;he highest
it's most

leart talks

id pride is
good, so

if the case
and if it
whom he

And arter
is always

led out of

if a man

will, while kindly, conscientiously and strictly sticking to the truth,
offer such consolation as a good man may, taking care to remem-
ber that manner is everything, and all these arguments are not
only no good, but do harm if the misfortunate critter is rubbed
agin the grain; he will then prepare the sufferer to receive the
only true consolation he has to offer — the consolation of religion.
At least, that's my idea.

Now, instead of that, if he gets hold of a sinner, he first offends
his delicacy, and then scares him to death. He tells him to confess
all the nasty particulars of the how, the where, the when, and the
who with. He can't do nothing till his curiosity is satisfied, gen-
eral terms won't do. He must have all the dirty details. And
then he talks to him of the devil, an unpronouncible place, fire
and brimstone and endless punishment. And assures him if ever
he hopes to be happy hereafter, he must be wretched for the rest
of his life : for the evangelical rule is, that a man is never forgiven
up to the last minute when it can't be helped. Well, every man
to his own trade. Perhaps they are right, and I am wrong. But
my idea is, you can coax, but can't bully folks. Yoit can win sin-
7iers, but you can'' t force them. The door of the heart must be opened
softly^ and to do that you must He the hinge and the lock.

Well, to get back to my story, and I hardly know where I left
off, I think the poor gall was speakin' of Indians in a way that indi-
cated she felt mortified at her descent, or that somehow or some-
how else, there was a sore spot there. Well, having my own
thoughts about the wounds of the heart and so on, as I have stated,
I made up my mind I must get at the secret by degrees, and see
whether my theory of treatment was right or not.

Sais J, " Miss, you saj these sort of things are bartered pt the
north-west, for others of more use. There is one thing, . iv ugh,
I must remark, they never were exchanged for anything lalf no
beautiful."

" I am glad you like it," she said, " but look here ;" aird she took
out of her basket a pair of moccasins, the soles of ^vuih wore of
moose leather, tanned and dressed like felt, and the upper part
black velvet, on which various patterns were worked with beads.
I think I never saw anything of the kind so exquisite, for those
nicknacks the Nova Scotia Indians make, are rough in material^
coarse in workmanship, and inelegant in design.

" Which do you prefer?" said she.

*' Well," sais I, " I ain't hardly able to decide. The bark work
is more delicate and more tasteful ; but it's more European iii
appearance. The other is more like our own country, and I ain't
sure that it isn't quite as handsome as the other. But 1 think I

prize the moccasins most. The
ments all tell of the prairie."

name, the shape, and the orna-

THB WOUNDS OF THE HEA.BT.

" Well, then," she said, " it shall be the moccasins, you must
have them, as the exchange for the book."

" Oh," said I, taking out of my pocket the first and second
Clockmakers, I had no other of my books on board, and giving
them to her, " I am afraid, Miss, that I either said or did some-
thing to offend you this morning. I assure you I did not mean to
do so, and I am very sorry for it."

" No, no," she said, " it was me ; but my temper has been
greatly tried since I came to this country. I was very wrong, for
you (and she laid a stress on that word as if I was an exception,)
have been very kind" to me."

" Well," sais I, " Miss, sometimes there are things that try us
and our feelings, that we don't choose to talk about to strangers,
and sometimes people annoy us on these subjects, it wouldn't be
right of me to pry into any one's secrets, but this I will say, any
person that would vex you, let him be who he will, can be no man,
he'd better not do it while I am here, at any rate, or he'll have to
look for his jacket very quick, I know."

" Mr. Slick," she said, " I know I am half Indian, and some
folks want to make me feel it."

"And you took me for one o' them cattle," said I, "but if you
knew what was passin' in my mind, you wouldn't a felt angry, /
know."

" What was it 1 " said she, " for I know you won't say anything
to me you oughtn't to. What was it ] "

" Well," Sais I, " there is, between you and me, a young lady
heie to the southern part of this province I have set my heart on,
though whether she is agoin' to give rne hern, or give me the mit-
ten, 1 ain't quite sartified, but I rather kinder sorter guess so, than
kinder sorter not so." I just throwed that in, that she mightn't
misunderstand me. " Well, she is the most splendiferous gall I
ever sot eyes on, since I was created; and," sais 1 to myself, " now,
here is one of a different style of beauty, which on 'em is, take her
all in all, the handsomest ? "

Half Indian or half Gaelic, or whatever she was, she was a
woman, and she didn't flare up this time, I tell you, but taking up
the work-^bag, she said :

"Give this to her, as a present from me."

Thinks 1, " My pretty brunette, if I don't get the heart opened
to me,- and give you a better opinion of yourself, and set you all
straight with mankind in generai, and the Doctor in particular,
afore I leave Ship Harbor, I'll give over forever, undervalyin' the
skill of ministers, that's a fact. That will do for trial number one,
by and bye I'll make trial number two."

Taking up the " Clockmaker," and looking at it, she said : **Is this

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEABT.

s, you must

id: ** Is this

book all true, Mr. Slick ! Did you say and do all that's set down
here?"

*• Well," sais I, " I vvouldn't just like to swear to every word of
it, but most of it is true, though some things are embellished a
little, and some are fancy sketches. But they are all true to
nature."

" Oh, dear," said she, " what a pity ; how shall I ever be able
to tell what's true, and what ain't 1 Do you think I shall be able
to understand it, who know so little, and have seen so little ?"

" You'll comprehend every word of it," sais I, " I wrote it on
purpose, so every person should do so. I have tried to stick to
life as close as I could, and there is nothin' like natur, it goes home
to the heart of us all."

" Do tell me, Mr. Slick," ^aid she, " what natur is, for I don't
know."

Well, now that's a very simple question, ain't it ? and any one
that reads this book when you publish it, will say, " Why, every-
body knows what natur is," and any schoolboy can answer that
question. But I'll take a bet of twenty dollars, not one in a hun-
dred will define that tarm right off the reel, without stopping. It
fiirly stumpf me, and I ain't easily brought to a hack about com-
mon things. I could a told her what natur was circumbendibusly,
and no mistake, though that takes time. But to define it briefly
and quickly, as Minister used to say, if it can be done at all, which
I don't think it can, all I can say is, as galls say to conundrums, " I
can't, so I give it up. What is it 1"

Perhaps it's my own fault, for dear old Mr. Hopewell used to
say, " Sam, your head ain't like any one elses. Most men's minds
resembles what appears on the water, when you throw a stone in
it. There is a centre, and circles form round it, each one a little
larger than the other, uviUl the impelling power ceases to act.
Now you set off on the outer circle, and go round and round
ever so often, until you arrive at the centre where you ought to
have started from at first; I never see the beat of you."

" It's natur," sais I, " Minister."

" Natur," sais he, "what the plague has natur to do with iti "

" Why," sais 1, " can one man surround a flock of sheep 1 "

" Why, what nonsense," sais he; "of course he can't."

" Well, that's what this child can do," sais I, " I make a good
sizeable ring-fence, open the bars, and put them in, for if it's too
small, they turn and out agin' like wink, and they will never so
much as look at it a second time. Well, when I get them there, I
narrow and narrow the circle, till it's all solid wool and mutton,
and I have every mother's son of them. It takes time, for I am
all alone, and have no one to help me ; but they are thar' at last.
Now, suppose I went to the centre of the field) and started off

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

arter them, what would it end in 1 Why, I'de run one down, and
have him, and that's the only one f could catch. But while 1 was
a chasin' of him, all the rest would disperse like a congregation
arter church, and cut ofT like wink, each on his own way, as if he
was afraid the minister was a-goin to run after 'em, head 'em, and
fetch 'em back and pen 'em up again."

He squirmed his face a little at that part about the congregation,
I consaited, but didn't say nothin', for he knew it was true.

" Now, my reason," sais I, " for goin' round and round is, I
like to gather up all that's ifl the circle, carry it with me, and
stack it in the centre."

Lord ! what fun 1 have had pokin' that are question of Jessie's
sudden to fellows since then ! Sais I, to Brother Eldad once,

" Dad, we often talk about natur ; what is it 1 "

" Tut," sa's he, " don't ask me ; every fool knows what
natur is."

" Exact]/,' >ua I ; " that's the reason I came to you."

He juFt up With a book, and came plaguy near lettin* me have
it right igi'i ra^ head smash.

" Don »: do iliat," sais I, "Daddy; I was only joking; but
what is it ? ''

Well, he paused a moment and looked puzzled as a f>^llow does
who is looking for his spectacles, and can't find them because he
has shoved them up on his forehead.

" Why," sais he, spreadin' out his arm, " it's all that you see,
and the law that governs it."

Well, it warn't a bad shot that, for a first trial, that's a fact. It
hit the target, though it didn't strike the ring.

" Oh," said I, " then there is none of it at night, amd things can't
be nateral in the dark."

Well, he seed he had run off the track, so he braved it out. " I
didn't say it was necessary to see them all the time," he said.

" Just so," said I, " natur is what you see and what you don't
see ; but then feelin' ain't nateral at all. It strikes me that if — "

" Didn't I say," said he, " the laws that govern them ! '*

" Well, where are them laws writ 1 ''

" In that are receipt-book o' yourn you're so proud >f," said he.
" What do you call it, Mr. Wiseacre ? '

"Then, you admit," sais 1, "any fool cant answer that
question ? "

" Perhaps you can," sais he.

" Oh, Dad ! " sais I, " you picked up that shot and throwed it
back. When a feller does that it shows he is short of ammunition.
But, I'll tell you what my opinion is. There is no such a thing
as natur."

" What 'i " said he.

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

" "Why there is no such a thing as natur in reality ; it is only a
figure of speech. The confounded poets got hold of the idea and
parsonified it as they have the word heart, and t^Ik about the
voice of natur and its sensations, and its laws and its simplicities,
and all that sort of thing. The noise water makes in tumblin' over
stones in a brook, a spluterin' like a toothless old woman, scoldin'
with a mouthfull of hot tea in her lantern cheek is called the voice
of natur speaking in the stream. And when the wind blows and
scatters about all the blossoms from your fruit trees, and you are
a ponderin' over the mischief, a gall comes aloig side of you with
a book of poetry in her hand and sais :

" ' Hark ! do you hear the voice of natur amid the trees 'f Isn't
it sweet ? '

" Well, it's so absurd you can't help laughin' and saying, * No,'
but then I hear the voice of natur closer still, and it says, ain't she
a sweet critter ?

" Well, a cultivated field which is a work of art, dressed with
artificial manures, and tilled with artificial tools, perhaps by steam,
is called the smiling face of nature. Here nature is strong and
there exhausted, now animated, and then asleep. At the poles,
the features of nature are all frozen, and as stiff as a poker, and in
the West Indies burnt up to a cinder. What a pack of stuff it is !
It is just a pretty word like pharmacopoeia and pierian spring, and
so forth. I hate poets, stock, lock, and barrel ; the whole seed,
breed and generation of them. If you see a she one, look at her
stockings ; they are all wrinkled about her ankles, and her shoes
are down to heel, and her hair is an tangled as the mane of a two-
year old colt. And if you see a he one, you see a mooney sort of
man either very sad or so wild-looking you think he is half-mad ;
he eats and sleeps on earth, and that's all. The rest of the time he
is sky-high, trying to find inspiration and sublimity like Byron, in
gin and water. I like folks that have common-sense."

Well to get back to my story. Said Jessie to me : " Mr. Slick,
what is natur ? "

" Well," sais I, " Miss, it's not very easy to explain it so as to
make it intelligible ; but I will try. This world and all that is in
it, is the work Of God. When he made it, he gave it laws or
properties that govern it. and so to every living or inanimate
thing ; and these properties or laws are called their nature.
Nature, therefore, is sometimes used for God himself, and some-
times for the Vi-^orld and its contents, and the secret laws of action
imposed upon '-hem when created. There is one nature to men ;
(for though thev don't all look alike, the laws of their being are
the same,) and another to horses, dogs, fish, and so on. Each
class has its own nature. For instance, it is natural for fish to
inhabit water, birds the air, and io on. In general, it therefore

94:

THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

11!

!,1

means the universal law that governs everything. Do you under-
stand it 1 " says I.

" Not just now," she said, " but I will when I have time to
think of it. Do you say there is one nature to all men."

" Yes, the same nature to Indian as to white men— all the same."

" Which is the best nature ?"
. " It is the same."

" Indian and white are they both equal ?"

"Quite—" , .

" Do you think so 1"

" Every mite and morsel, every bit and grain. Everybody
don't think so ? That's natural ; every race thinks it is better than
another, and every man thinks he is superior to others ; and so
does every woman. They think their children the best and hand-
somest. A bear thinks her nasty, dirty, shapeless, tailless cubs the
most beautiful things in all creation."

She laughed at that, but as suddenly relapsed into a fixed gloom.
" If red and white men are both equal, and have the same nature,"
she said, " what becomes of those who are neither red nor white ;
who have no country, no nation, no tribe, scorned by each, and the
tents and the houses of both closed against them. Are they equal ?
what does nature say ]"

" There is no difierence," I said ; " in the eye of God they are all
alike."

*' God may think P'ld t^eat them so," she replied, rising with
much emotion, " but man does not."

I thought it was as well to change the conversation, and leave
her to ponder over the idea of the races, which seemed so new to
her. " So," sais I, " I wonder the Doctor hasn't arrived ; it's past
four. There he is, Jessie ; see, he is on the beach ; he has returned
by water. Come, put on your bonnet and let you and I go and
meet him."

" Who, me !" she said, her face expressing both surprise and
pleasure.

"To be sure," said I. "You are not afraid of me, Miss, I
hope."

" I warn't sure I heard you right," she said, and away she went
for her bonnet.

Poor thing ! it was evident her position was a very painful one
to her, and that her natural pride was deeply injured. Poor dear
old Mri) .>ter ! if you was now alive, and could read this Journal, I
know Avhat you would say as well as possible. " Sam," you would
say, " this is a fulfilment of Scripture. The sins of the fathers are
visited on the children ^ the effects of which are visible in the second
and third ffeneraiion,"

► you under-
ave time to

11 the same."

Everybody
better than
ers ; and so
) and hand-
ess cubs the

ixed gloom,
ne nature,"
nor white ;
ich, and the
they equal ?

they are all

rising with

and leave

so new to

I ; it's past

IS returned

1 I go and

rprise and

le, Miss, I

f she went

ainful one
Poor dear
Journal, I
you would
fathers are
the second

FXDDZ.INO AND DAXTOISIG.

CHAPTER VII.
FIDDLING AND DANCING, AND SERVING THE DEVIL.

Bt the time we had reached the house, Cutler joined us, and we
dined off of the Doctor' salmon, which was prepared in a way that
I had never seen before ; and as it was a touch above common, and
smacked of the wigwam, I must get the receipt. The only way
for a man who travels and wants to get something better than
amusement out of it, is to notch down anything new, for every
place has something to teach you in that line. " The silent pig is
the best feeder^'' but it remains a pig still, and hastens its death by
growing too fat. Now the talking traveller feeds his mind as well
as his body, and soon finds the less he pampers his appetite the
clearer his head is, and the better his spirits. The great thing is to
live and learn, and learn to live.

Now I hate an epicure above all created things — worse than
lawyers, doctors, politicians and selfish fellows of all kinds. In a
giniral way he is a miserable critter, for nothin' is good enough for
him or done right, and his appetite gives itself as many airs, and
requires as much waitin' on as a crotchetty, fanciful, peevish old
lady of fashion. If a man's sensibility is all in his palate, he can't
in course have much in his heart. Makin' oneself miserable, fastin'
in sackcloth and ashes, aiiit a bit more foolish than makin' oneself
wretched in the midst of plenty, because the sea, the air, and the
earth won't give him the danties he wants, and Providence won't
send the cook to dress them. To spend one's life in eating, drink-
ing and sleeping, or like a bullock, in ruminating on food, reduces
a man to the level of ai; ox or an ass. The stomach is the kitchen,
and a very small one too, in a general way, and broiling, simmer-
ing, stewing, baking, and steaming, is a goin' on there night and
day. The atmosphere is none of the pleasantest neither, and if a
man chooses to withdraw into himself and live tliere, why I don't
see what earthly good he is to society, unless he wants to wind up
life by writin' a cookery-book. I hate them — that's just the tarm,
and I like tarms that express what I mean.

I shall never forget Avhen I was up to Michelimackinic. A thun-
derin' long word, aint it ? We call it Mackinic now for shortness.
But perhaps you wouldn't understand it, spelt that way, no more
than 1 did when I was to England, that Brighton means Brighthel
meston, or Sissiter Cirencester, for the English take such liberties
with words, they can't afford to let others do the same ; so I give
it to you both ways. Well, when I was there last, I dined with q,

FIDDLING AND DANCING

h *'^

f ii

village doctor, the greatest epicure I think I ever see in all my born
days. He thought and talked of nothing else from morning till
night but satin'.

" Oh, Mr. Slick," said he, rubbin his hands, " this is the tallest
country in '^ o world to live in. What a variety of food there is
here, fish, flesh and fowl, wild, tame and mongeral, fruits, vegeta-
bles, and spongy plants !■ '

" What's that ?" sais I. I always do that when a fellow uses
strange words. " We cal. a man who drops in accidentally on
purpose to dinner a sponging fellow, which means, if you give him
the liquid he will soak it up dry.

" Spongy plants," sais he, " means mushrooms and the like."

" Ah !" said I, " mushrooms are nateral to a new soil like this.
Upstarts we call them ; they arise at night, and by next mornin'
their liouse is up and its white roof on."

" Very good," said he, but not lookin' pleased at havin' his ora-
tory cut short that way. " Oh, Mr. Slick !" said he, " there is a
poor man here who richly deserves . pension, both from your gov-
ernment and mine. He has done more to advance the culinary
art than either Ude or Soyer."

" Who on 'earth now were they ?" said I. I knew well enough
who they were, for when I was to England they used to brag
greatly of Soyer at the Reform Club. For fear folks would call
their association house after their politics, " the cheap and dlrty^*
they built a very splash affair, ancl to set an example to the state
in their own ecitablishmont, of economy and reform in the public
departments, iiired Soyer, the best cook of the age, at a salary that
would have pensioned L.alf-adozen of the poor worn-out clerks in
Downing Street. Vulgarity is always showy. It is a pretty word
' Reformers." The common herd of them I don't mind much,
ogues and fools always find employment for each other. But

1; i hear of a great refarmer like some of the big bugs to Eng-
' ^v that have been grinning through horse-collars of late years,
lil!:e harlequins at fairs, for the amusement and instruction of the
public, I must say I do expect to see a super-superior hypocrite.

Yes, 1 know who those great artists Soyer and Ude were, but I
thought I'd draw him out. So 1 just asked who on earth they were,
and he explained at great length, and mentioned the wonderful dis*
coveries they had made in their divine art.

" Well," sais I, " why on earth don't your friend the Mackinic
cook go to London or Paris where he won't want a pension, or any-
thing else if he excels them great men "?"

" Bless you, Sir," he replied, " he is merely a voyageur."

" Oh dear," sais I, " I dare say then he can fry ham and eggs and
serve 'em up in ile, boil salt beef and pork and twice lay cod-fish,
and perhaps boil potatoes nic« and watery Uke cattle turnips.

A.ND BEBTINO THE DEYIL.

©T

What discoveries could such a rough-and-tumble fellow as that
make 1"

" Well," said the doctor, " I didn't want to put myself forward,
for it aint pleasant to speak of oneself."

" Well, I don't know that," sais I, " I aint above it, I assure you.
If you have a horse to sell, put a thunderin' long price on him, and
folks will think he must be the devil and all, and if you want people
to vally you right, appraise yourself at a high figure. Braggin
saves adverfisin, I always do it ; for, as the Nova Scotia magistrate
said, who sued his debtor before himself, ' What's the use of being
a justice, if you can't do yourself justice.' But what was ^ou sayin
about the voyageur ?"

" Why, Sir," said he, "I made the discovery throur^ his instru-
mentality. He enabled me to do it by suffering the rUnents
to be made on him. His name was Alexis St. Martii was a
Canadian, and about eighteen years of age, of good constitution,
robust and healthy. He had been engaged in the service of the
American Fur Company, as a voyageur, and was accidentally
wounded by the discharge of a musket, on the 9th of June, 1822.
The charge, consisting of powder and duck-shot, was received in his
left side ; he being at a distance of not more than one yard from
the muzzle of the gun. The contents entered posteriorly, and in
an oblique direction, forward and inward, literally blowing off in-
teguments and muscles, of the size of a man's hand, fracturing and
carrying away the anterior half of the sixth rib, fracturing the fifth,
lacerating the lower portion of the left lobe of the lungs, the dia-
phragm, and perforating the stomach."

" Good gracious !" sais I, " how plain that is expressed ! It is as
clear as mud, that ! I do like doctors, for their talking and writing
Is intelligible to the meanest capacity."

He looked pleased, and went ahead agin.

" After trying all the means in my power for eight or ten months
to close the orifice, by exciting adhesive inflammation in the lips of
the wound, without the least appearance of success, I gave it up as
impracticable, in any other way than that of incising and bringing
them together by sutures ; an operation to which the patient would
not submit By using the aperture which providence had supplied
us with to communicate with the stomach, I ascertained, by attach-
ing a small portion of food, of different kinds to a string, and insert-
ing it through his side, the exact time each takes for digestion, such
as beef or pork, or mutton or fowl, or fish or vegetables, cooked in
different ways.* We all know how long it takes to dress them,

* The village doctor appears to have appropriated to himself the credit due to

another. The particulars of this remarkable case are to be found in a work

published in New York in 1833, entitled " Experiments and observations on the

gastric juices, and the physiology of digestion," by William Beaumont, M. D.,

■i'l

^iL^f^.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

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!!: |4£ 12.0

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Sciences
Corporation

33 WIST MAIN STRUT

WUSTIR.N.Y. 14StO

(71«) •73-4503

^. ^'

riDDLIRO AND DANCING

but we did not know how long a time they required fur digestion.
I will show you a comparative table."

" Thank you," sais I, " but I am afraid I must be a moving."
Fact is, my stomach was movin' then, for it fairly made me sick.
Yes, I'd a plaguy siffht sooner see a man embroidering, which is
about as oontemptible an accomplishment as an idler can have, than
to hear him everlastingly smack his lips, and see him open his eyes
and gloat like an anaconda before he takes down a bullock, horns,
hair, and hoof, tank, shank, and flank, at one bolt, as if it was an
opium pill to make him sleep. ^^ '

Well, all this long lockrum arose out of my saying I should like
to have the receipt by which Jessie's sister had cooked the salmon
for dinner ; and 1 intend to get it too, that's a fact. As we con-
cluded our meal, " Doctor," sais I, " we have been meditating mis-
chief in your absence. What do you say to our makin' a party to
visit the * Bachelor beaver's dam^ and see your museums, fixms,
betterments, and what not?"

" Why," said he, "I should like it above all thmgs ; but— " '"^^ ,

"But what," said I. " r; . > ' i

" But I am afraid, as yon must stay all night, if you go, my poor
wigwam wont accommodate so many with beds.'*

" Oh t some of us will camp out," sais I, " I am used to it, and
like it a plaguv sight better than hot rooms."

" Juit the thing,** said he. " Oh ! Mr. Slick, you are a man rfter
my ovin heart, fhe nature of all foresters is alike, red or white,
English or French, Yankee or Blue-nose.'*

Jessie looked up at the coincidence of that expression with what
I had said yesterday. '► ■ ' • "^'

" Blue-nose," said I, *' Doctor," to familiarize the girl's mind to
the idea I had started of the mixed race being on a footing of
equality with the other two, " Blue-nose ought to be the besjl;, for
he is half Yankee, and half English ; two of the greatest people <»i
thefaceoftheairth!"

" True," said he, *' by right he ought to be, and it's his own fault
Ifheaint."

I thought it would be as well to drop the allusion there, so I
paid, " Tlmt's exactly what mother used to say when I did anything
wrong: *Sam, aint vou ashamed.' *No, I aint,' said I. ^Then
you ought to be,' she'd reply.

" It's a fixed fact, then,^' said I, " that we go to-morrow to the
Beaver dam 1"

" Yes," said he, " I shall be delighted. Jessie, you and your
■liter will accompany us, won't youf ' ^ .^ ,, _, ^^^., ,

! !

Surgson in the United States Army, and also in the " Albion" newspaper of
tbf MUBf pUoe for Januaiy 4, 1834.

AND 8BBVINO THE DBYIL,

' digestion.

» moving.**
le me sick.
;, which is
have, than
en his eyes
ock, horns,
r it was an

should like
he salmon
ts we con-
tating mis-
a party to
ms, GxiaSf

lUt —

M if/

. \

6, my poor

to it, and

. man rder
? or white,

with whait

:*s mind to

footing of

e best, for

people oa

I own fault

;here, so I
1 anything
I. *Then

•ow to the

and your

twipap«r of

^ "I should be charmed," she replied. ^j i^*!*; f- j^jtj^si^

" I think you will be pleased with it," he continued, " it will just
suit you ; it's so quiet and retired. But you must let Etienne take
the horse, and carry a letter to my sergeant and his commanding
officer, Betty, to give them notice of our visit, or he will go through
the whole campaign in Spain before he is done, and tell you how
ill the commisl^ariat-people were used, in not having notice given
to them to lay in stores. I never was honored with the presence
of ladies there before, and he will tell you he is broken-hearted at
the accommodation. I don't know what there is in the house ; but
the rod and the gun will supply us, I think, and the French boy
when he returns, will bring me word if anything is wanted from
the shore."

" Jessie," said I, " can't you invite the two Highland lassies and
their brother, that were here last night, and let us have a reel this
evening ?"

" Oh ! yes," she said, and going into the kitchen, the message
was dispatched immediately. As soon as the guests arrived, Peter
produced his violin, and the Doctor waking out of one of his
brown studies, jumped up like a boy, and taking one of the new
comers by the hand, commenced a most joyous and rapid jig, the
triumph of which seemed to consist in who should tire the other out.
The girl had youth and agility on her side ; but the Doctor was
not devoid of activity, and the great training which his constant
exercise kept him in, threw the balance in his favor ; so, when he
ceased, and declared the other victorious, it was evident that it was
an act of grace, and not of necessity. After that we all joined in
an eight-handed reel, and eight merrier and happier people, I don't
think, were ever before assembled at Ship Harbor.

In the midst of it the door opened, and a tall, thin, cadaverous-
looking man entered, and stood contemplating us in silence. He
had a bilious-looking countenance, which the strong light of the fire
and candles, when thrown upon it, rendered still more repulsive.
He had a broad-brimmed hat on his head, which he did not conde-
scend to remove, and carried in one hand a leather travelling-bag,
as lean and as dark-complexioned as himself, and in the other a
bundle of temperance newspapers. Peter, seeing that he did not
speak or advance, called out to him, with a face beaming with good
humor, as he kept bobbing his head, and keeping time with his foot,
(for his whole body was affected by his own music,)

" Come in, friend, come in, she is welcome. Come in, she is
playin' herself just now, but she will talk to you presently." And
then he stamped his foot to give emphasis to the turn of the tune,
as if he wanted to astonish the stranger with his performance.

The latter, however, not only seemed perfectly insensible to its
charms, but immovable. Peter at last got up from his chair, and

^^i

100

VIDDLINO AND DAITOINO

I i

continued playing as he advanced towards him ; but he was so ex-
cited by what was going on among the young people, that he
couldn't resist dancing himself, as he proceeded down the room,
and when he got to him, capered and fiddled at the same time.

" Come,'* said he, as he jumped about in front of him, " come and
join in," and liftin' the end of his bow suddenly, tipt off his hat for
him, and said, " come, she will dance with you herself."

liie stranger deliberately laid down his travelling-bag and paper
parcel, and lifting up both hands, said, " Satan, avaunt." But Pe-
ter misunderstood him, and thought he said, " Sartain, I can't."

*' She canna do tat," he replied, " can't she then, she'll teach you
the step, herself. This is the way," and his feet approached so near
the solemncolly man that he retreated a step or two as if to pro-
tect his shins. Everybody in the room was convulsed with laugh-
ter, for all saw what the intruder was, and the singular mistake
Peter was making. It broke up the reel. The Doctor put his
hands to his sides, bent forward, and made the most comical con-
tortions of face. In this position he shuffled across the room, and
actually roared out with laughter.

I shall never forget the scene ; I have made a sketch of it, to
illustrate this for you. There was this demure sinner, standing
bolt upright in front of the door, his hat hanging on the handle,
which had arrested it in its fall, and his long black hair, as if par-
taking of his consternation, flowing wildly over his cheeks ; while
' Peter, utterly unconscious that no one was dancing, continued play-
ing and capering in front of him, as if he was ravin' distracted, and
the Doctor bent forward, pressing his sides with his hands, as if to
prevent their bursting, laughed as if he was in hysterics. It was
the most comical thing I ever saw. I couldn't resist it no longer,
10 I joined the trio.

" Come, Doctor," sais I, " a three-handed reel," and entering into
the joke, he seized the stranger by one hand, and I by the other,
and before our silent friend knew where he was, he was in the
middle of the floor, and though he was not made to dance, he was
pushed or flung into his place, and turned and faced about as if he
was taking his first lesson. At last, as if by common consent, we
all ceased laughing, from sheer exhaustion, '^he stranger ettill
kept his position in the centre of the floor, t ^hen silence was
restored, raised his hands again in pious horror, and said, in a
deep, sepulchral voice : Vw

" Fiddling^ and dancing, and serving the devil ! Do you ever
think of your latter end 1"

" Thee had better think of thine, friend," I whispered, assuming
the manner of a quaker for fun, " for Peter is a rough customer,
and won't stand upon ceremony."'

*' Amhic an aibhisteir^ (son of the devil,)" said Peter, shaking

AND BBBVINO THB DSTIL.

101

his fist at him, "if she don't like it, she had better go. It's her
own house, and she will do what she likes in it. Faat does she
want r*

" I want the man called Samuel Slick," said he.
' " Verily," sals I, " friend, I am that man, and wilt thee tell me
who thee is that wantest me, and where thee livest 1"

" Men call me," he said, " Jehu Judd, and when to home, I live
in Quaco in New Brunswick."

I was glad of that, because it warn't possible the critter could
know anything of me, and I wanted to draw him out. - ^ •

" And what does thee want, friend ?" I said.

" I come to trade with you, to sell you fifty barrels of mackerel,
and to procure some nets for the fishery, and some manufactures,
commonly ca\]ed domestics," : ':'- 'i ' ' "«

" Verily," sais I, " thee hast an odd way of opening a trade, me-
thinks, friend Judd. Shaking quakers dance piously, as thee
mayest have heard, and dost thee think thy conduct seemly %
What mayest thee be, friend 1"

" A trader," he replied.

" Art thee not a fisher of men, friend, as well as a fisher of
fish?"

" I am a Christian man," he said, " of the sect called * Come-
outera^* and have had experience, and when 1 meet the brethren,
sometimes J speak a word in season."

"Well, friend, thee has spoken thy words out of season to-
night," I said.

" Peradventure I was wrong," he replied, " and if so, I repent
me of it." ^ > ' *^*^vi

" Of a certainty thee was, friend. Thee say est thy name is
Jehu ; now he was a hard rider, and it may be thee drivest a hard
bargain — if so, go thy ways, for thee cannot 'make seed-corn off of
me ;' if not, tarry here till this company goeth, and then I will
talk to thee touching the thing called mackarel. Wilt thee sit by
the fire till the Quaker ceaseth his dancing, and perhaps thee may
learn what those words mean : * and the heart danceth for joy,' or
it may be thee will return to thy vessel, and trade in the morning."

" No man knoweth," he said, " what an hour may bring forth ;
I will bide my time."

* Come-outers. This name has been applied to a considerable number of
persons in various parts of the Northern States, principally in New England,
who have recently come out 6i the various religious denominations with which
they have been connected; hence the name. They have not themselves
assumed any distinctive organization. They have no creed, believing that
every one should be left free to hold such opinions on religious subjects as he
pleases, without being held accountable for the same to any human authority.—*
BarUttV* AmerieaninM.

103

FIDDLING AND DAKOINa

" The night is cold at this season," said Peter, who considered
that the laws of hospitality required him to oflfer the best he had
in his house to a stranger, so he produced some spirits, as the most
acceptable thing he possessed, and requested him to help himself.

" 1 care not if I do," he said, " for my pledge extendeth not so
far as this," and he poured himself out a tumbler of brandy and
water, that warn't half-and-half, but almost the whole hog. Oh,
gummy, what a horn ! it was strong enough almost to throw an
ox over a five bar gate. It made his eyes twinkle, I tell you, and
he sat down and began to look as if he thought the galls pretty.

" Come, Peter," said I, " strike up, the stranger will wait awhile."

" Will she dance," said he, " tam her."

" No," said I, but I whispered to the Doctor, *' he will reel soon,"
at which he folded his arms across his breast and performed his
gyrations as before. Meanwhile Cutler and Fraser, and two of
the girls, commenced dancing jigs, and harmony was once more
restored. While they were thus occupied, I talked over the
arrangements for our excursion on the morrow with Jessie, and
the Doctor entered into a close examination of Jehu Judd, as to
the new asphalt mines in his province. He informed him of the
enormous petrified trunks of palm-trees that have been found while
exploring the coal-fields, and warmed into eloquence as he enu-
merated the mineral wealth and great resources of that most
beautiful colony. The Doctor expressed himself delighted with
the information he had received, whereupon Jehu rose and asked
him in token of amity to pledge him in a glass of Peter's excellent
cognac, and, without waiting for a reply, filled a tumbler and
swallowed it at one gulp.

My, what a pull that was ! Thinks I to myself, " Friend, if
that don't take the wrinkles out of the parchment-case of your
conscience, then I don't kno\7 nothin', that's all." Oh, dear, how
all America is overrun with such cattle as this ; how few teach
religion, or practice it right. How hard it is to find the genuine
article. Some folks keep the people in ignorance, and make them
believe the moon is made of green cheese, others with as much
sense, fancy the world is. One has old saints, the other invents
new ones. One places miracles at a distance, 'tother makes them
before their eyes, while both are up to mesmerism. One says
there is no marryin' in Paradise ; the other says, if that's true, it's
hard, and it is best to be a mormon and to have polygamy here.
Then there is a third party who says, neither of you speak sense,
it is better to believe nothin' than to give yourself up to be

crammed. Religion, Squire, ain't natur, because it is intended to
improve corrupt natur ; it's no use talkin, therefore, it can't be left
to itself, otherwise it degenerates into something little better than
animal instinct. It must be taught, and t£ching must have

AKD BBBVIirO THB DBYIL.

103

considered
>est he had
IS the most
p himself,
eth not so
brandy and
hog. Oh,

throw an
11 you, and
s pretty,
lit awhile."

reel soon,'*
formed hisf
md two of
once more
[ over the
Jessie, and
Fudd, as to
him of the
found while
as he enu-
that most
ghted with
and asked
's excellent
tnbler and

♦ Friend, if
ie of your
dear, how
few teach
he genuine
nake them

1 as much
er invents
akes them

One says
's true, it's
jamy here.
>eak sense,

up to be
ntended to
in't be left
^tter than
uust have

authority as well as leaniing. There can be no authority where
there is no power to enforce, and there can be no learning where
there is no training. If there must be normal schools to qualify
schoolmasters, there must be Oxfords and Cambridges to qualify
clergymen. At least that's my idea. Well, if there is a qualified
man, he must be supported while he is working. But if he has to
please his earthly employer, instead of obeying his heavenly mas-
ter, the better he is qualified the more dangerous he is. If he
relies on his congregation, the order of things is turned upside
down. He serves mammon, and not God. If he does his duty
he must tell unpleasant truths, and then he gets a walkin' ticket.
Who will hire a servant, pay him for his time, find a house fur
him to live in, and provide him in board, if he has a will of his
own, and won't please his employer by doin' what he is ordered
to do 1 I don't think you would. Squire, and I know I wouldn't.

No, a fixed, settled church, like our'n, or yours. Squire, is the
best^ There is safe anchorage-ground in them, and you don't go
draggin' your flukes with every spurt of wind, or get wrecked if
there is a gale that rages round you. There is something strong
to hold on to. There are good buoys, known landmarks, and fixed
light-houses, so that you know how to steer, and not helter skelter
lights movin' on the shore like will-o'-the-whisps, or wreckers' false
fires, that just lead you to destruction. The medium between the
two churches, for the clergy would be the right thing. In yours
they are too independent of the people, with us a little too depend-
ent. But we are coming up to the notch by making moderate
endowments, which will enable the minister to do what is right,
and not too large to make him lazy or careless. Well then, in
neither of them is a minister handed over to a faction to try.
Them that make the charges ain't the judges, which is a Magna
Charta for him.

Yes, I like our episcopal churches — they teach, persude, guide,
and paternally govern, but they have no dungeons, no tortures, no
fire and sword. They ain't afraid of the light, for, as minister
used to say, " their light shines afore men." Just see what sort
of a system it must be that produces such a man as Jehu Judd.
And yet Jehu finds it answer his purpose in his class to be what he
is. His religion is a cloak, and that is a grand thing for a pick-
pocket. It hides his hands, while they are fumblin' about your
waistcoat and trowsers, and then conceals the booty. You can't
make tricks if your adversary sees your hands; you may as well
give up the game.

But to return to the evangelical trader. Before we recommenced
dancing again, I begged the two QseMa girls, who were bouncing,
buxom lasses, and as strong as Shetland ponies, to coax or drag
him up for a reel. Each took a hand of his and tried to persuade

104

VIDDLINO AHD D1.VOIFO

him. Oh, weren't they fall of smiles, and didn't they look rorf
and temptin* ! They were sure, they said, so good-lookin' a man
as he was, must have learned to dance, or how coold he have given
itupl

*' For a single man like youj' said Catherine. '

" I am not a single man," said Old Piety, " I am a widower, a
lonely man in the house (^Israel."

" Oh, Catherine," sais 1, a givin' her a wink, '^ take care of thee-
self, or thy Musquodobit farm, with its hundred acres of intervald
meadow, and seventy head of homed cattle is gone."
•' He took a very amatory look at her after that iHnt.

*' Verily she would be a duek in Qt/aoo, friend Jehu," said I.

" Indeed would she, anywhere," be said, looking sanctified Cupids
at her, as pious galls do who show you the place in yonr prayer-
book at church.

" Ah, there is another way, methtnks she would be a duck," said
I, " the maiden would soon turn up tho whites of her eyes at
dancin' like a duek in thunder, as the profane men say."

*^ Oh, oh," said the Doctor, who stood behind me, *^I shall die,
he'll kill me. I can't stand this, oh, bow my sides ache."

" Indeed I am afraid I shall always be a wild dtiek" said Cathe>-
rine*

" They are safer from the £)wler," said Jehu, " fer they ate
wary and watchful."
, " If you are a widower," she said, *'you ought to dance."

" Why do you think so?" said be ; but his toi^ue was becoming
thick, though his eyes were getting brighter.

" Because," she said, " a widower is an odd critter."

« Odd 1 " he replied, " m what way odd, dear? "

" Why," said the gir), **- an ox of our^n lately lost his mate, and
my brother called him the odd ox, and not the single ox, and he is
the most frolicksome fellow you ever sec. Now, as you hare lost
your mate, you are an odd one, and if you are lookin' for another
to put its head into the ydce, yottt>ught to go frolickin' everywhere
too!"

" Do single critters ever look §br mates? " said he slily.

*' Well done," said I, « friend Jehu. The drake bad the best of
the duck that time. Thee weren't bred at Qnaco for nothin.
Come, rouse up, wake snakes^ and walk chalks, as the thoughtless
children of evil say. I see thee is warmin' to the sutject."

" Men do allow," said he, lookin' at me with great self compIa>
cency, " that in speech I am peeowerfiiV*

" Come, Mary," said I, addressin' the other sister, " do thee try
thy persuasive powers, but take care of thy grandmother's l^acy,
the two thousand pounds thee hast in the Pictou Bank. It i^ easier
for that to go to Quaco than the farm."

AND BSBTIHO THB DBYXL.

105

. >

look rtmf
;in' a man
kave given

idower, a

re ofthee-
r intervale

said I.
led Cupids
ir prayer-

uck," said
T eyes at

[ shall die,

md Catlie>

r they are

becoming

mate, and
, and he is

have lost
>r another
rerywhere

J-

he best of

>r nothin.
louffhtless

t;^

»>

l^compla>

o thee try-
's legacy,
t v^ easier

" Oh, never fear," said she.

** Providence," he continued, " has been kind to these virgins.
They are surprising comely, and well endowed with understanding
and money," and he smirked first at one and then at the other, as
if he thought either would do — the fiirm or the legacy.

'^ Come," they both said, and as they gave a slight pull, up he
sprung to his feet. The temptation was too great for him : two
pairs of bright eyes, two pretty faces, and two hands in his, filled
with Highland blood — and that ain't cold — and two glasses of grog
within, and two fortunes without were irresistible.

So said he, " If I have offended, verily I will make amends ;
but dancing is a dangerous thing, and a snare to the unwary. The
hand and waist of a maiden in the dance lead not to serious
thoughts."

" It's because thee so seldom feels them," I said. ** Edged tools
never wound thee when thee is used to them, and the razor that
cutteth the child, passes smoothly over the chin of a man. He
who locketh up his daughters, forgetteth there is a window and a
ladder, and if gaiety is shut out of the house, it is pitied and admit-
ted when the master is absent or asleep. When it is harbored by
stealth and kept concealed, it loses its beauty and innocence, and
waxeth wicked. The crowd that leaveth a night-meeting is less
restrained than the throng that goeth to a lighted ball-room. Both
are to be avoided ; one weareth a cloak that conceals too much, the
other a thin vestment that reveals more than is seemly. Of the
two, it is better to court observation than shun it. Dark thoughts
lead to dark deeds."

"There i: much reason in what you say," he said : "I never
had it put to me in that light before. I have heard of tne shakers,
but never saw one before you, nor was aware that they danced."

" Did thee never hear," said I, " when thee was a boy,

" *■ Merrily dance the Quaker's wife,
And merrily dance the Quaker 1 "

and so on ? "

" No, never," said he.

" Then verily, friend, I will show thee how a Quaker can dance.
They call us shakers, from shaking our feet so spry. Which will
thee choose — the farm or the legacy ? " ; it

Mary took his hand, and led him to his place, the music struck
up, and Peter gave us one of his quickest measures. Jehu now
felt the combined influence of music, women, brandy and dancing,
and snapped his fingers over his head, and stamped his feet to mark
the time, q^nd hummed the tune in a voice that from its power and
clearness astonished us all.

" Well done, old boy," said I, for I thought I might drop the
5*

106

FIDDLXKO AND DANOIlTa.

quaker now, ** well done, old boy," and I slapped him on the back,
**go it while you are young, make up for lost time: now for
the double shuffle. Dod rot it, you are clear grit and no mistake.
You are like a critter that bogles in the collar at the first go ofi^
and don't like the start, but wnen you do lay legs to it you cer-
tainly ain't no slouch, I know."

The way he cuts carlicues, ain't no matter. From humming he
soon got to a full cry, and from that to shouting. His antics over-
came us all. The Doctor gave the first key note. " Oh, oh, that
man will be the death of me," and again rubbed himself round the
wall, in convulsions of laughter. Peter saw nothing absurd in all
this, on the contrary, he was delighted with the stranger.

" Oigh," he said, " ta preacher is a goot feller after all, she will
tance with her hern ainsel,'' and fiddling his way up to him again,
he danced a jig with Jehu, to the infinite amusement of us all. The
familiarity which Mr. Judd exhibited with the steps and the dance,
convinced me that he must have often indulged in it before he
became a christian. At last he sat down, not a little exhausted
with the violent exertion, but the liquor made him peeowerful
thick-legged, and his track wamt a bee line, I tell you. After
a while a song was proposed, and Mary entreated him to fiivor us
with one.

" Dear Miss," said he, " pretty Miss," and his mouth reisembled
that of a cat contemplating a pan of milk that it cannot reach,
" lovely maiden, willingly would I comply, if Sail Mody (Psal-
mody) will do, but I have forgotten my songs."

" Try this," said I, and his strong, clear voice rose above us all,
as he joined us in ,

' - " Yes, Lucy is a pretty girl, >

Such lubly hands and feet.
When her toe is in the Market-house,
Her heel is in Main Street.

*' Oh, take your time. Miss Lucy,
Miss Lucy, Lucy Long, /

Rock de cradle, Lucy, -^

, And listen to de song." i

He complained of thirst and fatigue after this, and rising, said,
" I am peeowerful dry, by jinks," and helped himself so liberally,
that he had scarcely resumed his seat before he was fast asleep, and
so incapable of sustaining himself in a sitting posture, that we
removed him to the sofa, and loosening his cravat, placed him in a
situation where he could repose comfortably. We then all stood
roimd the evangelical " come outer" and sang in chorus : .

STITCHING ▲ BVTTOH-HOLK. 107

*' My old matter, Twiddledum "on,
Went to bed with hia trousera on,
One shoe off, and the other shoe on—
That's a description of Twiddledum Don.'*

*' Oh, my old ' Come-outer,' said I, as I took my last look at him
for the night, ^ you have * come-out* in your true colors at last, but
this comes of ^fiddling and dancing, and serving the deviV "

CHAPTER VIII. !v ;^

STITCHING A BUTTON-HOLE. ' -

After the family had retired to rest, the Doctor and I lighted
our cigars, and discoursed of the events of the evening.

" Such men, as Jehu Judd," he said, " do a monstrous deal of
mischief in the country. By making the profession of piety a
cloak for their knavery, they injure the cause of morality, and pre-
dispose men to ridicule the very appearance of that which is so
justly entitled to their respect, a sober, righteous, and godly life.
Men lose their abhorrence of fraud in their distrust of the efficacy
of religion. It is a duty we owe to society to expose and punish
such fellows."

" Well, then, I will do my duty," said I, laughing, " he has fired
into the wrong flock this time, I'll teach him not to do it again or
my name is not Sam Slick. I will make that goney a caution to
sinners / know. He has often deceived others so that they didn't
know him, I will now alter him so he shan't know himself when ho
wakes up."

Proceeding to my bed-room, which, as I said before, adjoined
the parlor, I brought out the box containing my sketchin' flxins, and
opening of a secret drawer, shewed him a small paper of bronze
colored powder.

" That," said I, " is what the Indians at the Nor- west use to dis-
guise a white man, when he is in their train, not to deceive their
enemies, for you couldn't take in a savage for any length of time,
no how you could fix it, but that his pale face might not alarm the
scouts of their foes. I was stained that way for a month, when I
was among them, for there was war going on at the time."

Mixing a little of it with brandy, I went to the sofa where Mr.
Jehu Judd was laid out, and with a camel's hair brush ornamented
his upper lip with two enormous and ferocious moustachios, curling
well upwards, across his cheeks, to his ears, and laid on the paint.

106

• TITOHIHO ▲ BTTTTOH-BOLS.

in 8 manner to resist the utmost e^rts cff soap and water. EacI
eye was adorned with an enormous circle, to represent the eilect ol
blows, and on his forehead was written in this indelible ink in larg«
print letters, like those on the 8tam>board of a yessel, the words,
♦' Jehu of Quaco." * w

In the morning we made preparations for Tisiting tlie Batdieloi
Beaver. The evangelical trader awoke amid the general buttle of
the house, and sought me out to talk over the sale of his mackarel.

"■ Fa is tat," said Peter, who first stared wildljr at him, and then
put himself in a posture of defence. *^ Is she a deserter from the
garishon of Halifax ?"

" I am a man of peace," said Jehu, (who appeared to have for-
gotten the aberrations of the last evening, and had resumed his
usual sanctimoniouslyfied manner.) " Swear not, friend, it is an
abomination, and becometh not a christian man."

Peter was amazed, he could not trust bis eyes, bis ears, or his
memory.

*' Toctor," said he, *^ come here for keaven^a sake, is she liemain-
ael or ta tevil." ,..,;

The moment the Doctor saw him, his bands as usnal involunta-
rily protected his sides, and he burst out a lauglnng in bis face, and
then describing a circle on the grass, fell down, and rolled over,
saying ; *' Oh, oh, that man will be the death of me," T)»e girls
nearly went into hysterics, and Cutler, though evidently not approv-
ing of the practical joke, as only fit fur military life, unable to con-
tain himself, walked away. The French boy, Etienne, firightened
at his horrible expression of face, retreated backwards, crossed
himself most devoutly, and muttered an Ave Maria.

" Friend Judd," said I, for I was the only cme who retained my
gravity, " thee ought not to wear a mask, it is a bad sign."

*' I wear no mask, Mr. Slick," be said, *^ I use no disguises, and
it does not become a professing man like you, to jeer and scoff
because I reprove the man Peter for his profaneness/'

Peter stamped and raved like a madman, and had to resort to
Gaelic to disburden his mind of his effervescence. He threatened
to shoot him, he knew him very well, he said, for he had seen him
before on the prairies. He was a Kentucky villain, a forger, a
tief, a Yankee spy, sent to excite the Indians against the English.
He knew his false moustachios, he would swear to them in any
court of justice in the world. ^ Deil a bit is ta Loon, Jehu Judd,"
he said, '* her name is prayin' Joe, the borse-stealer."

For the truth of this charge be appealed to his daughters, who
stood aghast at the fearful resemblance his moustachies bad given
him to that noted borderer.

" That man of Satan," said Jehu, looking very uncomfortable, as
he saw Peter flourishing a short dirk, and the Doctor holding him

8TIT0HINO A BUTTON-HOLS.

109

back and remonstrating with him. " That man of Satan I nerer
saw before yesterday, when I entered his house, where there was
Jiddling and dancing^ and serving the devil. Truly my head became
dizzy at the sight, my heart sunk within me at beholding such
wickedness, and I fell into a swoon, and was troubled with cureams
of the evil one all night."

" Then he visited thee, friend," I said, " in thy sleep, and placed
his mark upon thee — the mark of the beast, come and look at it in
the glass."

When he saw himself, he started back in great terror, and gave
vent to a long, low, guttural groan, like a man who is suffering
intense agony. ** What in the world is all this 1 " he said. He
again approached the glass and again retreated with a look of
unspeakable despair, groaning like a thousand sinners, and swelled
out about the head and throat like a startled blauzer-snake. After
which he put his hand on his lip and discovered there was no hair.
He then took courage and advanced once more, and examined it
carefully, and rubbed it, but it did not remove it.

'* He has burned it into the skin," I said, " he hath made thee
the image of the horse<stealer, and who knoweth whom else thou
resemblest. Thee art a marked man verily. Thee said thee never
used disguises."

« Never," he said, « never, Mr. Slick." ' • ^ '*''

" Hush," I said, ** thee hast worn three disguises. First thee
wore the disguise of religion ; secondly, thee were disguised in
liquor ; and thirdly, thee art now disguised with what fighting men
call the moustachio."

'^ Oh, Mr. Slick," said he, leaving off his cant, and really lookins
like a different man, " dod drot it, it is a just punishment. I
knock under, I holler, I give in, have mercy on me. Can you rid
me of this horrid mark, for I can't flunk out in the street in this

rig."

" I can," sais I, " but I will do it on one condition only, and that
is, that you give over canting that way, and coverin' tricks with
long faces, and things too serious to mention now, for that is
doubly wicked. Cheatin' ain't pretty at no time, though I wouldn't
be too hard on a man for only gettin' hold of the right eend of the
rope in a bargain. I have done it myself. Or puttin' the leak
into a consaited critter sometimes for fun. But to cheat, and cant
to help you. a doin' of it, is horrid, that's a fact. It's the very
devil. Will you promise, if I take down that ornamental sign-
board, that you will give up that kind o' business and set up a
new shop % "

« I will," said he, " upon my soul— I'll be d— d if I don't. That
ain't cant now, is it! "

" Well, now you never said a truer word," said I, " you will be

110

8TIT0HIl«a A BUTTON-HOLE

i- I

il i

I
liiii

|4t; i' ' I- ■

d — d if you don't, that's a fact. But there is no use to run to
the other extreme, neither."

" Are you a preacher % " said he, and I thought he gave me a
sly look out of the corner of his eye, as much as to say, " how-
good we are, ain't we," as sin said when the devil was rebukin' of
him. The fact is, the fellow was a thunderin' knave, but he was
no fool, further than being silly enough to be a knave.

" No," sais I, " I ain't, I scorn a man dubbin' himself preacher,
without the broughtens up to it, and a lawful warrant for being
one. And I scorn cant, it ain't necessary to trade. If you want
that proved to you, wait till I return to-morrow, and if you get to
winderd of me in a bargain, I'll give you leave to put the musta*
chios on me, that's a fact. My maxim is to buy as low, and sell
as high as I can, provided the article will bear a large profit. If
not, I take a moderate advance, turn the penny quick, and at it
again. I will compound something that will take out your false
hair, for I don't think it will be easy to shave it off. It all came
of pretence. What in the world was the reason you couldn't walk
quietly into the cantecoi, where people were enjoying themselves,
and either join them, or if you had scruples, keep them to yourself
and sit by. Nobody would have molested you. Nothing but
cant 'ed you to join temperance societies. A man ought to be
able to use, not abuse liquor, but the moment you obligate your-
self not to touch it, it kinder sets you a hankering after it, and if
you taste it after that, it upsets you, as it did last night. It ain*t
easy to wean a calf that takes to suckin'' the second timCf thaCs a fact.
Your pretence set folks agin' you. They didn't half like the
interruption for one thing, and then the way you acted made them
disrespect you. So you got a most an all-fired trick played on
you. And I must say it sarves you right. Now, sais I, go on
board and — "

" Oh, Mr. Slick," said he, " oh now, that's a good fellow, don't
send me on board, such a figure as this, I'd rather die fust, I'd
never hear the last of it. The men would make me the laughing
stock of Quaco. Oh, I can't go on board."

"Well," sais I, "go to bed then, and put a poultice on your
face, to soflen the skin." That warn't necessary at all, but I said
it to punish him. " And when I come back, I will give you a
wash, that will make your face as white and as smooth as a
baby's."

" Oh, Mr. Slick," said he, " couldn't you — " but I turned away,
and didn't hear him out.

By the time I had done with him, we were all ready to start
for the Bachelor Beaver. Peter borrowed an extra horse and
waggon, and drove his youngest daughter. Cutler drove Jessie in
another, and the Doctor and I walked.

iiiil

STITCHING A BUTTON-HOLS.

" We can travel as fast as they can," he said, ** for part of the
road is full of stumps, and very rough, and I like the arrangement,
and want to have a talk with you about all sorts of things."

After travelling about two miles, we struck off the main high-
way, into a wood-road, in which stones, hillocks, and roots of trees,
so impeded the waggons, that we passed them, and took the lead.

" Are you charged 1" said the Doctor, " if not, I think we may
as well do so now."

" Perhaps it would be advisable," said I. " But where is your
gun 1 "

" I generally am so well loaded," he replied, " when I go to the
woods, I find it an incumbrance. In addition to my other traps, I
find forty weight of pemican as much as I can carry."

" Femicany * sais I, " what in natur is that 1" I knew as well as
he did what it was, for a man that don't understand how to make
that, don't know the very abeselfa of wood-craft. But I tell you
what. Squire, unless you want to be hated, don't let on you know
all that a feller can tell you. The more you do know, the more
folks are afeared to be able to tell you something new. It flatters
their vanity, and it's a harmless piece of politeness, as well as good
policy to listen ; for who the plague will attend to you, if you
won't condescend to hear them ? Conversation is a barter, in
which one thing is swapped for another, and you must abide by the
laws of trade. What you give, costs you nothing ; and what you
get, may be worth nothing ; so, if you don't gain much, you don't
lose, at P.11 events. " So,' sais I, " what in natur is pemican 1"

" Why," sais he, " it is formed by pounding the choice parts of
venison or other meat very small, dried over a slack fire, or by the
frost, and put into bags, made of the skin of the slain animal, into
which a portion of melted fat is poured. The whole being then
strongly pressed, and sewed up in bags, constitutes the best, and
most portable food known ; and one which will keep a great
length of time. If a dainty man, like you, wishes to improve its
flavor, you may spice it."

" What a grand thing that would be for soldiers, during forced
marches, wouldn't it 1 Well, Doctor," sais I, " that's a wrinkle,
aint it ? But who ever heard of a colonial minister knowing any-
think of colony habits ?"

" If we have a chance to kill a deer," he said, " I will show you
how to make it," and he looked as pleased to give me that informa-
tion, as if he had invented it himself. " So I use this instead of a
gun," he continued, producing a long, thick-barreled pistol, of capi-
tal workmanship, and well mounted. " I prefer this, it answers
everv purpose ; and is easy to carry. There are no wolves here,
and bears never attack you, unless molested, so that the gun-barrel

* See Dunn'a " Oregon."

(iJiii!:

-1.

112

BTITOHINO A BUTTOK-BOLB.

ii not needed as a olub ; and if Bruin once gets a taste of this, he
is in no hurry to face it again. The great thing is to know how to
■hoot, and wnere to hit. Now, it's no use to fire at the head of a
bear, the proper place to aim for is the side, just back of the fore
leg. Are vou a good shot 1"

" Well," said I, " I can't brag, for I have seen them that could
beat me at that game ; but, in a general way, I don't calculate to
throw away mv lead. It's scarce in the woods. Suppose, though,
we have a trial. Do you see that blaze in the hemlock tree, there 1
try it."

Well, he up, and as quick as wink fired, and hit it directly in the
centre.

" Well," sals I, " you scare me. To tell you the truth, I didn't
expect to be taken up that way. And so sure as I boast of a thing,
I slip out of the little eend of the horn." Well, I drew a bead fine
on it, and fired.

" That mark is too small," said he, (thinking I had missed it,)
" and hardlv plain enough."

" I shoulan t wonder if I had gone a one side or the other," said
I," as we walked up to it, " I intended to send your ball further in ;
but I guess I have only turned it round. See, I have cut a little
grain of the bark ofT the right side of the circle,"

" Good," said he, " these balls are near enough to give' a critter
the heart-ache, at any rate. You are a better shot than I am ; and
that's what I have never seen in this province. Strange, too, for
you don't live in the woods, as I do."

" That's the reason," said I, *• I shoot for practice, you, when you
require it. Use keeps your hand in, but it wouldn't do it for me ;
80 1 make up by practising, whenever I can. When I go to the
woods, whicn aint as oflen now as I could wish, for they aint to be
found everywhere in our great country, I enjoy it with all my
heart. I enter into it as keen as a hound, and I don't care to have
the Clockmaker run rigs on. A man's life often depends on his
shot, and he ought to be afraid of nothin. Some men, too, are as
dangerous as wud beasts ; but if they know you can snuff a candle
with a ball, hand runnin, why, they are apt to try their luck with
some one else, that aint up to snuff, that's all. It's a common
feelinff, that.

" The best shot I ever knew, was a tailor, at Albany. He used
to be very fond of brousin' in the forest sometimes, and the young
fellows was apt to have a shy at Thimble. They talked of the
8kirt8 of the forest, the capes of the Hudson, laughing in their
alteve, giving a fellow a bastin^ having a stitch in the side, cuffing a
fellow's ears, taking a tuck-in at lunch, or calling mint-julip an
intidt lining^ and so on ; and every time any o' these woi:ds came
out, they all laughed like anything.

BTITOHING A BVTTON-HOLB,

118

te of this, he
(now how to
he head of a
k of the fore

m that could
; calculate to
;>ose, though,
: tree, there %

irectly in the

ruth, I didn't
kst of a thing,
w a bead fine

d missed it,)

other," said
11 further in ;
e cut a little

jive a critter
a I am ; and
nge, too, for

u, when you

it for me ;

1 go to the
y aint to be
writh all my
eare to have
>ends on his
, too, are as
uff a candle
ir luck with

a common

. He used
1 the young
liked of the
ng in their
de, cuffi/ng a
int-jullp an
woi:ds came

" Well, the critter, who was really a capital fellow, used to join
in the laugh himself, but still grinnin' is no proof a man enjoys it ;
for a hyena will laugh, if you give him a poke. So what does he
do, but practise in secret every morning and evening at pistol-
shooting, for an hour or two, until he was a shade more than per-
fection itself. Well, one day he was out with a party of them
same coons, and they began to run the old rig on him as usual.
And he jumps up on eend, and in a joking kind o' way, said:

* Gentlemen, can any of you ititch a button-holey with the button in
it V Well, they all roared out at that like mad.

" *No, Sirrec,* sais they, *but come, show us, Thimblty will youl
that's a good fellow. Tom, fetch the ffoose^ to press it when it's
done. Dick, cabbage a bit of cloth for him to try it upon. Why,
Tom, you are as sharp as a needle.^

" ' Well,' sais he, ' I'll show you.'

" So he went to a tree, and took out of his pocket a fippenny bit,
that had a hole in the centre, and putting in it a small nail, which
he had provided, he fastened it to the tree.

^ " Now,' said he, taking out a pair of pistols, and lots of ammu-
nition, from the bottom of his prog-basket, where he had hid them.

* Now,' said he, ' gentlemen, the way to stitch a button-hole, is to
put balls all round that button, in a close ring, and never disturb
them ; that's what we tailors call workmanlike,' and he fired away,
shot afler shot, till he had done it.

" * Now,' said he, ' gentlemen, that button has to be fastened,'
and he fired, and drove the nail that it hung on, into the tree.
' And now, gentlemen,' said he, * I have stood your shots for many
a long day ; turn about is fair play. The first man that cracks a
joke at me, on account of my calling, must stand my shot, and if
I don't stitch his button-hole for him, I am no tailor ; that's all.'

" Well, they all cheered him when he sat down, and they drank
his health ; and the boss of the day said : * Well, Street, (afore that
he used to call him Thimble,) well. Street,' said he, ' you are &man*

" ' There you are again,' said Street ; * that is a covered joke at
a tailor being only the ninth part of one. I pass it over this time,
but let's have no more of it.'

" ' No, Sirree, no,' said boss ; ' on honor now, I didn't mean it.
And 1 say, too, let there be no more of it.' "

" Not a bad story !" said the Doctor. " A man ought to be able
to take his own part in the world ; but my idea is, we think too
much of guns. Do you know anything of archery 1"

*' A little," sais I, " at least folks say so ; but then they really
give me credit for what I don't deserve ; they say I draw a thun-
derin long bow sometimes."

" Oh ! oh !" he said laughing, " posi/iwely, as the fellow said to
the tailor, you'll give me a stitch in my side. Well, that's better

114

BTITCHINO A BVTTON-HOLB.

than being * sewed up,' as Jehu was last night. But, seriously, do
you ever use the bow ?"

" Well, I have tried the South American bow, and it's a power-
ful weapon that ; but it takes a man to draw it, I tell you."

" Yes," said he, " it requires a strong arm ; but the exercise is
good for the chest. It's the one I generally use. The bow is a
great weapon, and the oldest in the world. I believe I have a
tolerable collection of them. The Indian bow was more or less ex-
cellent, according to the wood they had ; but they could never have
been worth much here, for the country produces no suitable material.
The old English long bow, perhaps, is a good one ; but it is not so
powerful as the Turkish. That has immense power. They say it
will carry an arrow from four hundred and fifty to five hundred
yards. Mine, perhaps, is not a first-rate one, nor am I what I call
^ a skilful archer ; but I can reach beyond three hundred yards —
though that is an immense distance. The gun has superseded them ;
but though superior in many respects, the other has some qualities
that are invaluable. In skirmishing, or in surprising outposts, what
an advantage it is to avoid the alarm and noise occasioned by fire-
arms. All troops engaged in this service in addition to the rifle
ought to have the bow and the quiver. What an advantage it
would have been in the Cafl!re war, and how serviceable now in the
Crimea. They are light to carry and quickly discharged. When
we get to my house, I will prove it to you. We will set up two
targets, at one hundred yards, say. You shall fire from one to the
other, and then stand aside, and before you can reload I will put
three arrows into yours. I should say four to a common soldier's
practice ; but I give even you three to one. If a man misses his
first shot at me with a gun, he is victimized, for I have three chances
in return before he gets his second, and if 1 don't pink him with one
or the other, why, I deserve to be hit. For the same reason, what
a glorious cavalry weapon it is, as the Parthians knew. What a
splendid thing for an ambush, where you are neither seen nor heard.
I don't mean to say they are better than fire-arms ; but, occasion-
ally used with them they would be irresistible. If I were a British
oflicer in command I would astonish the enemy."

" You would astonish the Hor^e-Guards, too, I know," said I.
" It would ruin you for ever. They'd call you old ' bows and arrows,'
as they did the general that had no flints to his guns, when he at-
tacked Buenos Ayres ; they'd have you up in ' Punch ;' they'd draw
you as Cupid going to war ; they'd nickname you a Bow-street
officer. Oh ! they'd soon teach you what a quiver was. They'd
play the devil with you. They'd beat you at your own game ;
you'd be stuck full of poisoned arrows; you could as easily intro-
duce the queue again, as the bow."
" Well Cressey, Poictiers, and Agincourt were won with the bow,"

jiiiiiii

BTITCHINQ A BVTTON-HOLfi.

116

ire a British

he said, *' and, as an auxiliary weapon, it is still as efTective as ever.
However, that is not a mere speculation. When I go out after ca-
riboo, I always carry mine, and seldom use my gun. It don't
alarm the herd ; they don't know where the shaft comes from, and
are as likely to look for it in the lake or in the wild grass, as any
where else. Let us try them together. But let us load with shot
now. We shall come to the brook directly, and where it spreads
out into still water, and the flags grow, the wild fowl frequent ; for
they are amazin fond of poke-lokeins, as the Indians call those spots.
We may get a brace or two, perhaps, to take home with us. Come,
let us push ahead, and go warily."

After awhile a sudden turn of the road disclosed to us a flock of
blue-winged ducks, and he whispered, " Do you fire to the right,
and I will take the left." When the smoke from our simultaneous
discharges cleared away, we saw the flock rise, leaving five of their
number as victims of their careless watch.

" That is just what ^ said," he remarked, " the gun is superior in
many respects ; but if we had our bows here, we would have had
each two more shots at them, while on the wing. As it is, we can't
reload till they are out of reach. I only spoke of the bow as subor-
dinate and auxiliary ; but never as a substitute. Although I am
not certain that with our present manufacturing skill, metallic bows
could not now be made, equal in power, superior in lightness, and
more effective than any gun when the object to be aimed at is not
too minute, for in that particular, the rifle will never be equalled—
certainly not surpassed,"

The retriever soon brought us our birds, and we proceeded
leisurely on our way, and, in a short time were overtaken by the
waggons, when we advanced together towards the house, which we
reached in about an hour more. As soon as we came in sight of it,
the dogs gave notice of our approach, and a tall, straight, priggish-
looking man, marched, for he did not hurry himself, bareheaded to-
wards the bars in the pole fence. He was soon aftewards followed
by a little old woman at a foot amble, or sort of broken trot, such
as distinguishes a Naraganset pacer. She had a hat in her hand,
which she hastily put on the man's head. But, as she had to jump
up to do it, she effected it with a force that made it cover his eyes,
and nearly extinguish his nose. It caused the man to stop and
adjust it, when he turned round to his flapper, and, by the motion
of his hand, and her retrogade movement, it appeared he did not
receive this delicate attention very graciously. Duty, however,
was pressing him, and he resumed his stately step towards the
bars.

She attacked him again in the rear, as a goose does an intruder,
and now and then picked something from his coat, which I supposed
to be a vagrant thread, or a piece of lint or straw, and then retreated

116

BTITOniNO ▲ BUTTON-HOLE.

m
tifiiiiiiii

:i l!i

I'l' I

a step or two, to ayoid closer contact. He was compelled at last
to turn again on his pursuer, and expostulate with her in no gentle
terms. I heard the words, " mind your own business," or some-
thing of the kind, and the female voice more distinctly (women
always have the best of it) ; " You look as if you had slept in it.
You aint fit to appear before gentlemen." Ladies she had been
unaccustomed of late to see, and therefore omitted altogether.
"What would Colonel Jones say, if he saw you that way."

To which the impatient man replied : " Colonel Jones be hanged.
He is not my commanding officer, or you either — take that, will you,
old ooman." If the colonel was not there his master was, therefore
pressing forward, he took down the bars, and removed them a one
side, when he drew himself bolt upright, near one of the posts, and
placing his hand across his forehead, remained in that position,
without uttering a word, till the waggons passed, and the Doctor
said, " Well, Jackson how are you ?" " Hearty, sir ! I hope your
honor is well 1 Why, Buscar, is that you, dog ; . how are you, my
manl" and then he proceeded very expeditiously to replace the
poles.

" What are you stopping for 1" said the Doctor to me, for the
whole party was waiting for us.

" I was admirin' of them bars," said T.

"Why, they are the commonest things in the country," he
replied. " Did you never see them before 1" Of course I had, a
thousand times, but I didn't choose to answer.

" What a most beautiful contrivance," said I, " they are. First,
you can't find them if you don't know beforehand where they are,
they look so like the rest of the fence. It tante one stranger in a
thousand could take them down, for if he begins at the top they
get awfully tangled, and if he pulls the wrong way, the harder he
hauls the tighter they get. Then he has to drag them all out of
the way, so as to lead the horse through, and leave him standin'
there till he puts them up agin, and as like as not, the critter gets
tired of waitin', races off to the stable, and breaks the waggon all
to flinders. After all these advantages, they don't cost but a
shilling or so more than a gate. Oh, it's grand."

" Well, well," said the Doctor, " I never thought of that afore,
but you are right after all," and he laughed as good humoredly as
possible. " Jackson," said he.

" Yes, your honor."

" We must have a gate there."

" Certainly," said the servant, touching his hat. But he honored
me with a look, as much as to say, " thank you for nothing, Sir.
It's a pity you hadn't served under Colonel Jones, for he would
have taught you to mind your own business double quick.'*

We then proceeded to the door, and the Doctor welcomed the

« 4..

8TITOHINO A BUTTON-HOLB.

117

party to the " Bachelor BeaverVdam," as he called it. In the
meantime, the bustling little old woman returned, and expressed
great delight at seeing us. The place was so lonesome, she said,
and it was so pleasant to see ladies there, for they were the first
who had ever visited the Doctor, and it was so kind of them to
come so far, and she hoped they would often honor the place with
their presence, if they could put up with their accommodation, for
she had only heard from the Doctor the night before ; and she was
so sorry she couldn't receive them as she could wish, and a whole
volume more, and an appendix longer than that, and an index to
it, where the paging was so jumbled you couldn't find nothin*.

Jackson joined in, and said, he regretted his commissariat was
so badly supplied. That it was a poor country to fon^e in, and
that there was nothing but the common rations and stores for the
detachment stationed there. But that nothing should be wanting
on his part, and so on. The housekeeper led the way to the apart-
ments destined for the girls. Peter assisted the boy to unharness
the horses, and the Doctor showed Cutler and myself into the hall,
where the breakfast-table was set for us. Seeing Jackson marching
to the well, as if he was on parade, I left the two together in con-
versation, and went out to talk to him.

" Sergeant," sais I.

" Yes, your honor," said he, and he put down the pail and raised
his hand to forehead. r^

" I understand you have seen a great deal of service in your
time."

" Yes, Sir," said he, looking well pleased, and as if his talking tacks
were all ready. I had hit the right subject. " I ave gone through
a deal of soldiering in my day, and been in many a ard fight,
Sir."

" I see you have the marks on you," I said. " That is a bad
scar on your face."

" Well, Sir," said he, " saving your presence, I wish the devil
had the Frenchman that gave me that wound. I have some I am

rroud of having received in the service of my king and country,
have three balls in me now, which the doctors couldn't extract,
and nothin' but death will bring to the light of day again, if they
can be said to be seen in the grave. But that scar is the only dis-
graceful mark I ever received since I first joined in 1808.

"When we were laying siege to Badajoz, Sir, I was in the
cavalry, and I was sent with a message to a brigade that was

fosted some distance from us. Well, Sir, as I was trotting along,
saw a French dragoon, well mounted, leading a splendid spare orse,
belonging to some French hofficer of rank, as far as I could judge
from his happearance and mountings. Instead of pursuing my
course, as I ought to have done, Sir, I thought I'de make a dash at

118

8TIT0HINO A BVTTON*HOLE.

"! (

'n'"'.

the rascal, and make prize of that are hanimal. So I drew my
sword, raised myself in my saddle, (for I was considered a first-
rate swordsman, as most Hinglishmen hare who have been used to
the single-stick,) and made sure I ad him. Instead of turning, he
kept steadily on, and never as much as drew his sabre, so in place
of making a cut hat him, for Fde scorn to strike han hunarmed
man, my play was to cut his reins, and then if he wanted a skrim-
age to give him one, and if not, to carry off that hare orse.

" Well, Sir, he came on gallantly, I must say that, and kept his
eye fixed steadily on me, when just as I was going to make a cut
at his reins, he suddenly seized his eavy-mounted el met, and threw
it slap at my face, and I'll be anged if it didn't stun me, and
knock me right off the orse flat on the ground, and then he gal-
loped off as ard as he could go. When I got up, I took his elmet
under my harm, and proceeded on my route. I was ashamed to
tell the story straight, and I made the best tale I could of the
scrimmage, and showed the elmet in token that it was a pretty
rough fight. But the doctor, when he dressed the wound, swore
it never was made with a sword, nor a bullet, nor any instrument
he knew hon, and that he didn't think it was occasioned by a fall,
for it was neither insised, outsised, nor contused — ^but a confusion
of all three. He questioned me as close as a witness.

" * But,' says I, ' doctor, there is no telling what himplements
Frenchmen ave. They don't fight like us, they don't. It was a
runnin' scrimmage, or handicap fight.' Yes, Sir, if it was hany-
where helse, where it wouldn't show, it wouldn't be so bad, but
there it is on the face, and there is no denyin' of it."

Here the little woman made her appearance again, with the hat
in her hand, and said imploringly :

" Tom, doee put your hat on, that's a good soul. He don't take
no care of himself. Sir," she said, addressing herself to me. " He
has seen a deal of service in his day, and has three bullets in him
now, and he is as careless of hisself as if he didn't mind whether
I was left alone in the oulin' wilderness or not. Oh, Sir, if you
heard the wild beastesis here at night, it's dreadful. It's worse
than the wolves in the Pyreen in Spain. And then. Sir, all I can
do I can't get him to wear is at, when he knows in is cart he had a
stroke of the sun near Badajoz, which knocked him off his orse,
and see how it cut his face.' He was so andsome before. Sir."

" Betty," said the sergeant, " the Doctor is calling you. Do go
into the ouse, and don't bother the gentleman. Gh, Sir," said he,
" I have had to tell a eap of lies about that are scar on my face,
and that's ard, Sir, for a man who has a medal with five clasps ;
ain't it r

Here the doctor came to tell me breakfast was ready,'

STiTOniNO A BUTTON-HOLB.

119

> I drew my
lered a first-
been used to
f taming, he
B, so in place
in hunarmed
ited a skrim-
orse.

ind kept his
3 make a cut
it, and threw^
tun me, and
then he gal-
ok his elmet
; ashamed to
could of the
iras a pretty
round, swore
Y instrument
led by a fall,
t a confusion

himplements

ft. It was a

t was hany-

so bad, but

with the hat

"e don't take

) me. " He
illets in him
lind whether
I, Sir, if you
It's worse
Sir, all I can
lart he had a
off his orse,
•e, Sir."
ou. Do go
Ar" said he,
on my face,
five clasps ;

*' I was admiring, Doctor,** said I, '* this simple contrivance of
yours for raising water from the well. It is very ingenious."

" Very," he said, " but I assure you it is no invention of mine.
I have no turn that way. It is very common in the country."

I must describe this extraordinary looking affair, for though not
unusual in America, I have never seen it in England, although the
happy thought, doubtless, owes its origin to the inventive genius of
its farmers.

•The well had a curb, as it is called, a square wooden box open
at the top, to prevent accident to the person drawing the water.
A few paces from this was an upright post about twelve feet high,
having a crotch at the top. A long beam lies across thi^, one end
of which rests on the ground at a distance from the post, and the
other projects into the air with its point over the well. This beam
is secured in the middle of the crotch of the upright post by an
iron bolt, on which it moves, as on an axle. To the serial end is
attached a few links of a chain, that hold a long pole to which the
bucket is fastened, and hangs over the well. The beam and its pen-
dant apparatus, resembles a fishing-rod and its line protruding
over a stream. When a person wishes to draw water, he takes
hold of the pole, and as he pulls it down, the bucket descends into
the well, and the heavy end of the beam rises into the air, and
when the pail is filled, the weight of the butt end of the beam in
its descent raises the bucket.

" Now," said I, " Doctor, just observe how beautiful this thing
is in operation. A woman, (for they draw more nor half the water
used in this country,) has to put out all her strength, dragging down
the pole, with her hands over her head, (an attitude and exercise
greatly recommended by doctors to women,) in order to get the
bucket down into the well. If she is in too big a hurry, the lever
brings it up with a jerk that upsets it, and wets her all over, which
is very refieshing in hot weather, and if a child or a dog happens
to be under the heavy end of the beam, it smashes it to death,
which after all, aint no great matter, for there are plenty lefl to
them who have too many, and don't care for 'em. And then if it
aint well looked after, and the post gets rotten at the bottom, on a
stormy day it's apt to fall, and smash the roof of the house in,
which is rather lucky, for most likely it wanted shingling, and it is
time it was done. Well, when the bucket swings about in the
wind, if a gall misses catching it, it is apt to hit her in the mouth,
which is a great matter, if she has the toothache, for it will extract
corn-crackers a plaguey sight quicker than a dentist could; to save
his soul."

" Well," said he, " I never thought of that before. I have no
turn for these things, I'll have it removed, it is a most dangerous

120

THE PLVBAL OF H008E.

iiii!

thing, and I wouldn't have an accident happen to the sergeant and
dear old Betty for the world,"

" God bless your honor for that," said Jackson.

" But Doctor," said I, " joking apart, they are very picturesque,
aint they ; how well they look in a sketcn, eh ! Nice feature in
the foreground."

" Oh," said he, patting me on the back, " there you have me
again, Slick. Oh, indeed they are, I can't part with my old well
pole, oh no, not for the world: Jackson, have an eye to it, see that
it is all safe and strong, and that no accident happens, but I don't
think we need take it away. Come, Slick, come to breakfast."

Thinks I to myself, as I proceeded to the hall, " there are two
classes only in this world. Those who have genius, and those who
have common sense. They are like tailors ; one can cut a coat,
and do nothin' else, for he is an artist. The other can put the parts
together, tor he is a workman only. Now the Doctor is a man of
talent and learning, an uncommon man, but he don't know comm,on
things at all. He can cut out a garment, but he can't stitch a but-
ton-hole, I.

Ill

! 11;;;:

1 '!!■::

Mr:!:

!l;l
Inii'

CHAPTER IX.

THE PLURAL OF MOOSE.

The room in which we breakfasted was about eighteen feet square,
having a large old-fashioned fire-place opposite to the front door,
which opened directly on the lawn. The walls were fancifully
ornamented with moose and dear horns, fowling-pieces, fishing-rods,
landing nets and baskets, bows and arrows of every description,
and Indian relics, such as stone hatches, bowls, rude mortars, images,
war clubs, wampum, and implements not unlike broad swords made
of black birch, the edges of which were inlaid with the teeth of
animals, or the shells of fish, ground sharp. Besides these, were
skulls of great size and in good preservation, stone pipes, pouches,
and so on, also some enormous teeth and bones of an antediluvian
animal, found in Bras Dor lake in Cape Breton. It was, take it
altogether, the most complete collection of relics of this interesting
race, the Micmacs, and of natur's products to be found in this
province. Some of the larger moose horns were ingeniously man-
aged, so as to form supports for polished slabs of hardwood for
tables. The Doctor informed me that this department of his
museum was under the sole direction of the Sergeant, who called

THB PLUBAL OF KO0B8.

121

h; his armory and to whose experience in the arrangement of arms
he was indebted for the good effect they produced. The only ob-
jection he said he had to it, was, that classification had been sacri.
ficed to appearance, and things were very much intermixed ; but
his collection was too small to make this a matter of any impor-
tance.

Jackson, as soon as the Doctor was similarly ensaged in
showing them to the Captain and the Miss McDonalds, for whom
they seemed to have a peculiar interest, mounted guard over me.

'^ You see. Sir," said he, " the moose horns are the only thing
of any size here, and that's because the moose is half English, you
know. Everything is small in this country, and degenerates, Sir.
The fox ain*t near as big as an English one. Lord, Sir, the ounds
would run down one o' these fellows in ten minutes. They haven't
got no strength. The rabbit, too, is a mere nothink ; he is more
of a cat, and looks like one too, when he is hanged in a snare. It's
so cold nothin comes to a right size here. The trees is mere shrub-
bery compared to our hoaxes. Tlie pine is tall, but then it has no
sap. It's all tar and turpentine, and that keeps the frost out of its
heart. The fish that live under the ice in the winter are all iley, in
a general way, like the whales, porpoises, dog-fish, and cod. The
liver of the cod is all ile, and women take to drinkin it now in cold
weather, to keep their blood warm. Depend upon it. Sir, in two
or three generations, they will shine in the sun like niggers. Porter
would be better for 'em to drink than ile, and far more pleasanter
too. Sir, wouldn't it ? It would fill 'em out. Saving your presence,
Sir, you never see a girl here with — "

'^ Hush ! the ladies will hear you," I said.

" I ax your honor's pardon ; perhaps I am making too bold, but
it's nateral for a man uiat has seed so much of the world as I have
to talk a bit, especially as my tongue Is absent on furlough more
nor half the year, and then the old 'ooman's goes on duty, and
never fear, Sir, her'n don't sleep at its post She has seen too much
sarvice for that. It don't indeed. It hails every one that passes
the sentry-box, and makes 'em advance and give the countersign.
A man that has seed so much. Sir, in course has a good deal to talk
about. Now, Sir, I don't want to undervaly the oms at no rate,
but Lord bless you. Sir, I have seen the oms of a wild sheep, when
I was in the Medeteranion, so large, I could hardly lift them with
one hand. They say young foxes sleep in them sometimes. Oh,
Sir, if they would only get a few of them, and let them loose here,
there would be some fun in unting of them. They are covered over
with air in summer, and they are so wild you can't take them no
other way than by shooting of them. Then, Sir, there is the orns

** But how is tha moosa half English 1 " sais I.
6

123

THE PLURAL OF MOOBE.

iiiil

B III

''Hill n|

" Why, Sir, I heard our col or- sergeant M'Clure say so when vre
was in Halifax. He was a great reader and a great arguer, Sir, as
most Scotchmen are, I used to say to him, * M'Clure, it's a won-
der you can fight as well as you do, for in England fellows who
dispute all the time, commonly take it all out in words.'

" One day. Sir, a man passed the north barrack gate, tumping,
(as he said, which means in English, Sir, hauling,) an immense bull
moose on a sled, though why he didn't say so, I don't know, unless
he wanted to show he knew what M'Clure calls the botanical word
for it. It was the largest hanimal I ever saw here, '

" Says Mac to him. ' What do you call that creature 1 *

" ' Moose,' said he.

" ' Do you pretend to tell me,' said Mac, ' that that henormous
hanimal, with onis like a deer, is a moose 1 '

" ' I don't pretend at all,' said he ; 'I think I hought to know one
when I see it, for I have killed the matter of a undred of them in
my day.'

" ' It's a daumed lee," said the Sergeant. ' It's no such thing j I
wouldn't believe it if you was to swear to it.'

"*TelI you what,' said the man, 'don't go for to tell me that
again, or I'll lay you as flat as he is in no time,' and he cracked his
whip and moved on.

"' What's the use,' said I, 'M'Clure, to call that man a liar?
How do you know whether it is a moose or not, and he is more
like to get its name right than you, who never saw one afJjre.'

" ' Moose,' said he, ' do you take me for a fool ? do you suppose
he is a goin to cram me with such stuff as that 1 The idea of his
pretending to tell me that a creature six feet high with great
spreading antlers like a deer is a moose, when in fact they are no
bigger than a cock-roach, and can run into holes the size of a six-
pence ! Look at me — do you see anything very green about me ? "

" ' Why, Mac," sais I, " as sure as the world you mean a mouse.'

" ' Well, I said a moose,' he replied.

*' ' Yes, I know you said a moose, but that's not the way to pro-
nounce a mouse. It may be Scotch, but it ain't English. Do you
go into that hardware shop, and ask for a moose-trap, and see how
the boys will wink to each other, and laugh at you.'

" * A man,' sais he, drawing himself up, 'who has learned huma-
nity at Glaskee, don't require to be taught how to pronounce
moose.'

" ' As for your humanity,' said I, ' I never see much of that. If
you ever had that weakness, you got bravely over it, and the glass
key must have been broken years agone in Spain.'

" ' You are getting impertinent,' said he, and he walked off and
left me.

" It's very strange, your honor, but I never saw an Irishman or

i'!i.

"iiili-

THB PLUBAL OV MOOBX.

128

henormous

Scotchman yet that hadn^t the vanity to think he spoke English
better than we do."

" But the Yankees ? " said I.

"Well, Sir, they are foreigners, you know, and only speak
broken English ; but they mix up a deal of words of their own
with it, and then wonder you don^t understand them. They keep
their mouths so busy chawing, they nave to talk through their
noses.

" A few days after that, Sir, we walked down to the market-
place, and there was another of these hanimals for sale. But per-
haps I am making too bold. Sir ? "

" No, no, not at all ; go on. I like to hear you."

" • Well,' said M'Clure to the countryman, ' What do you call
thatr

" * A moose,' said he.

" Well, I gives him a nudge of my helbow, to remind him not
to tell him it was a * daumed lee,' as he did the other man.

" * What does moose mean, my man 1 '

" Would you believe it. Sir, he didn't like that word * my man,*
partikelarly coming from a soldier, for they are so hignorant here,
they affect to look down upon soldiers, and call 'em * thirteen
pences.'

"*Mean,' said he, *it means thatf^ a*pointin' to the carcass.
* Do you want to buy it 1'

" * Hem !' said Mac. ' Well now, my good fellow—'

" Oh, Sir, if you had a seen the countryman when he heard them
words, it would a been as good as a play. He eyed him all over,
very scornful, as if he was taking his measure and weight for
throwing him over the sled by his cape and his trowsers, and then
he put his hand in his waistcoat pocket, and took out a large black
fig of coarse tobacco, and bit a piece out of it, as if it was an apple,
and fell to a chewing of it, as if to vent his wrath on it, but said
nothing.

" ' Well, my good fellow,' said Mac, * when there are more than
one, or they are in the plural number, what do you call them V

" ' Mice,' said the fellow.

" * Mice !' said M'Clure, * I must look into that ; it's very odd.
Still, it can't be mooses, either.'

" He didn't know what to make of it ; he had been puzzled with
mouse before, and found he was wrong ; so he thought it was pos«
sible * mice' might be the right word, after all.

" * Well,* said he, * what do you call the female moose 1'

" * Why,' sais the man, * I guess,' a-talkin' through his nose
instead of his mouth— how I hate that Yankee way, don't you,
Sir? ^ Why,' sais he, *I guess we call the he-moose M, and tbo
other N, as th« case may be.'

■|i;'i

124

THB PLUBAX. OF M008B.

" * Who gave them that name ? ' said M'Clure. * ^

" * Why, I reckon,* said the other, * their godfathers and god-
mothers at their baptism ; but I can't say, for I wam't there.*

" *• I say, my man,* said M'Clure, * you had better keep a civil
tongue in your head.*

*' Ask me no questions, then,* said the countryman, ' and I'll tell
you no lies ; but if you think to run a rig on me, you have made
a mistake in the child, and barked up the -wrong tree, that's all.
P'raps I aint so old as you be, but I warn't bom yesterday. So
slope, if you please, for I want to sneeze, and if I do it, it will
blow your cap over the market-house, and you'll be lucky if your
head don't go along with it.'

" • Come away,' said I, Mac, * that fellow has no more manners
than a heathen.'

" ' He's an hignorant beast,' said he ; 'he is beneath notice.*

** The man card that, and called after him ; ' Hofficer, hofficer,'
said he.

" That made M'Clure stop, for he was expectin* to be one every
day, and the word sounded good, and Scotchmen, Sir, aint like
other people ; pride is as natural as oatmeal to them. The man
came up to us limpin.

" ' Hofficer,* said he, * I ax your pardon if I offended you ; I
thought you was a pokin fun at me, for I am nothing but a poor
hignorant farmer from the country, and these townspeople are
always making game of us. I'll tell you all about that are moose
>ltnd how I killed him. He urt my feelins, Sir, or I never would
have mislested him ; for Zack Wilcox is as good-natured a chap,
it's generally allowed, as ever lived. Yes, he trod on my toes, I
don't feel right yet ; and when any fellow does that to me, why
there aint no mistake about it, his time is ov^ and the sentence is
come to pass. He begged for his life ; oh, it was piteous to see
him. I don't mean to say the dumb beast spoke, but his looks
were so beseeching just the way if you was tied up to the halbert
to be whipped, you'd look at the general.'

"♦Me?^saidM'Clure.

" ' Yes, you or anybody else,' said the man. * Well,' said he,
* I told him I wouldn't shoot him, I'de give him one chance for his
life ; but if he escaped he'd be deaf for ever afterwards. Poor
feller, I didn't intend to come it quite so strong ; but he couldn't
stand the shock I gave him, and it killed him — frightened him to
death.'

«♦ How r said M'Cluro.

" • Why,* sais he, ' I'll tell you,* and he looked cautiously all
round, as if he didn't want any one to know the secret. * I gave
him a most an almighty luunbler that fairly keeled him over.'

'<* What r said M'aur«.

,11 ;•

s and god-
;here.*
Leep a civil

and rU tell
have made
, that's all.
erday. So
o it, it will
jky if your

re manners

notice.*
jr, hofficer,'

) one every

ir, ftint like

The man

led you; I

but a poor

^people are

; are moose

ever would

ired a chap,

. my toes, I

to me, why

sentence is

eous to see

it his looks

the halbert

11,' said he,
ance for his
rds. Poor
he couldn't
sned him to

utiously all
>t. *■ I gave
I oyer.*

THB PLUBAL OF M008B.

126

'■'

" * Why,' sais he, * I gave him,' and he bent forward towards his
ear as if to whisper the word, ' 1 gave him a most thunderin' ever-
lastin' loud — ' and he gave a yell into his hear that was eard clean
across the harbor, and at the ospital beyond the dock-yard, and
t'other way as far as Fresh-water Bridge. Nothin' was hever eard
like it before.

" M'Clure sprang backwards the matter of four or five feet, and
placed his hand on his side-arms, while the countryman brayed out
a horse-laugh that nearly took away one's earing. The truck-men
gave him a cheer, for they are all Irishmen, and they don't like sol-
diers commonly on account of their making them keep the peace
at ome at their meetin' of monsters, and there was a general com-
motion in the market. We beat a retreat, and when we got out
of the crowd, sais I, ' M'Clure, that comes of arguing with every
one you meet. It's a bad habit.'

" ' I wasn't arguing,' sais he, quite short ; ' I was only asking
questions, and how can you ever learn if you don't inquire 1 '

" Well, when he got to the barrack, he got a book wrote by a
Frenchman, called Buffoon."

" A capital name," sais I, " for a Frenchman ;" but he didn't
take, for there is no more fun in an Englishman, than a dough
pudding, and went on without stopping.

" Sais he, *■ this author is all wrong. He calls it han * horiginal,'
but he aint a native animal ; it's half English and half Yankee.
Some British cattle at a remote period have been wrecked here,
strayed into the woods, and erded with the Carriboo. It has the
ugly carcass and ide of the ox, and has taken the orns, short tail,
and its speed from the deer. That accounts for its being larger
than the native stags.' I think he was right. Sir ; what is your
opinion?"

The doctor and the rest of the party coming up just then put
an end to Jackson's dissertation on the origin of the moose. The
former said :

" Come, Mr. Slick, suppose we try the experiment of the bow,"
and Jessie, seeing us prepared for shooting, asked the Doctor for
smaller ones for her sister and herself. The targets were accord-
ingly prepared, and placing myself near one of them, I discharged
the gun and removed a few paces on one side, and commenced as
rapidly as I could to reload, but the Doctor had sent three arrows
through mine before I had finished. It required almost as little
time as a revolver. He repeated the trial again with the same
result.

" What do you think of the bow now ? " said he in triumph.
" Come, Captain, do you and Mr. Slick try your luck, and see
what sort of shots you can make." The Captain, who was an
experienced hand with a gun, after a few attempts to ascertain the

I;
11

126

THB PilTBAL OF kOOBE

. i! I

I 'A Hi ii

-11!

1 , ■.::(

power and practice necessary, made capital play with the bow,
and his muscular arm rendered easy to him that which required of
me the utmost exertion of my strength. Jessie and her sister
now stept forward, and measuring off a shorter distance, took their
stations. Their shooting, in which they were quite at home, was
truly wonderful. Instead of using the bow as we did, so as to
bring the arrow in a line with the eye, they held it lower down, in
a way to return the elbow to the right side, much in the same
manner that a slcilful sportsman shoots from the hip. It seemed
to be no sort of exertion whatever to them, and every arrow was
lodged in the inner circle. It seemed to awalcen them to a new
existence, and in their excitement I observed they used their
mother tongue.

" Beg your pardon. Sir," said Jaclcson to the Doctor, putting his
hand to his forehead, " if our sharp-shooters in Spain ad ad bows
like yours, in their skrimages with the French light troops, they
would ave done more service and made less noise about it than they
did." And saluting me in the same manner, he said in an under tone,

" If I ad ad one of them at Badajoz, Sir, I think I'd a put a pen
in that trooper's mouth, to write the account of the way he lost
his elmet. A shower of them. Sir, among a troop of cavalry,
would have sent riders flying, and horses kicking, as bad as a
shower of grape. There is no danger of shooting your fingers off
with them, Sir, or firing away your ramrod. No, there ain't, is
there, Sir 1 "

1 " Tom, do'ee put on your hat now, that's a good soul," said his
attentive wife, wno had followed him out a third time, to remind
him of his danger. " Oh, Sir," said she, again addressing me,
" wiiat signifies a armless thing, like an harrow ; that's nothin but
a little wooden rod, to the stroke of the sun, as they calls it. See
what a dreadful cut it's given him."

Tom looked very impatient at this, but curbed in his vexation,
and said " thankee, Betty," though his face expressed anything but
thanks. "Thankee, Betty. There, the Doctor is calling you.
She is as good a creature, Sir, as ever lived," he continued ; " and
has seen a deal of service in her day. But she bothers me to
death, about that stroke of the sun. Sometimes I think I'll tell
hur all about it ; but I don't like to demean myself to her. She
wouldn't think nothin of me, Sir, if she thought I could have been
floored that way ; and women, when they begin to cry, throw up
sometime, what's disagreeable. They aint safe. She would,
perhaps, have heaved up in my face, that that dragoon had slapped
my chops for me, with his elmet. I am blowed, Sir, if I can take
a glass of grog out of my canteen, but she says, Tom, mind that
Stroke of the sun. And when I ave a big D marked agin my name

the Ibow,
equired of
her sister
took their
home, was
1, so as to
r down, in

the same

It seemed

Eirrow was

I to a new

iised their

cutting his
1 ad bows
oops, they
; than they
inder tone,
put a pen
ly he lost
f cavalry,
bad as a
ingers off
& ain't, is

" said his
to remind
ssing me,
lothin but
i it. See

vexation,
thing but
ling you.
id; "and
rs me to

I'll tell

ler. She

lave been

throw up

would,

slapped

can take

lind that

my name

THB PLUBAL OF HOOSB.

127

in the pension book, she'll swear, to her dying day, I was killed by
that are stroke."

" Why don't you put it on then," I said, "just to please her."

" Well, Sir, if I was at head-quarters, or even at han houtpost,
where there was a detachment, I would put it hon ; because it
wouldn't seem decent to go bare-headed. But Lord bless you, Sir,
whafs the use of ha at in the woods, where there is no one to see
your'

Poor fellow, he din't know what a touch of human natur there
was in that expression, " whafs the use of a hat in the woods, when
there is no one to see you ? "

The same idea, though differently expressed, occurs to so many.
" Yes," said I to myself, " put on your hat for your wife's sake,
and your own too ; for though you may fail to get a stroke of the
sun, you may get, not an inflammation of the brain; for there ain't
enough of it for that complaint to feed on, but rheumatism in the
head ; and that will cause you a plaguey sight more pain that
the dragoon's helmet ever did, by a long chalk."

But, to get back to my story, for the way I travel through a
tale, is like the way a child goes to school. He leaves the path to
chase a butterfly, or to pick wild strawberries, or to run after his
hat, that has blown off, or to take a shy at a bird, or throw off his
shoes, roll up his trousers, and wade about the edge of a pond, to
catch poUy-wogs ; but he gets to school in the eend, though some-
what of the latest, so I have got back at last, you see.

Mother used to say, "Sam, your head is always a wool-
gathering."

" I am glad of it," says 1, " marm."

" Why, Sam," she'd say, " why, what on earth do you mean."

" Because, marm," I'd reply, " a head that's always a gatherin,
will get well stored at last."

" Do get out," the dear old soul would say, " I do believe, in
my heart, you are the most nimpent (impudent), idlest, good for
nothingest Doy in the world. Do get along."

But she was pleased, tiiough, after all ; for women do like to
repeat little things like them, that their children say, and ask other
people, who don't hear a word, or if they do, only go right off and
laugh at 'em : Ain't that proper cute now *? Make a considerable
smart man when he is out of his time, and flnishcd his broughtens
up, won't he 1

Well, arter the archery meeting was over, and the congregation
disparsed, who should I find myself a walkin down to the lake with
but Jessie. How it was, I don't know, for I warn't a lookin for
her, nor she for me ; but so it was. 1 suppose it is human natur,
and that is the only way I can account for it. Where there is a
flower, there is the bee ; where the grass is sweet, there is the

)

:.i

128

THB PLUBAL 07 MOOSE.

'■\

sheep ; where the cherry is ripe, there is the bird ; and where ther^
is a gall, especially if she is pretty, there, it is likely, I am to b«
found also. Yes, it must be natnr. Well, we walked, or rather,
strolled off easy. There are different kinds of gaits, and they are
curious to observe ; for I consait, sometimes, I can read a man's
character in his walk. The child trots ; the boy scarcely touches
the ground with his feet, and how the plagoe be wears bis shoes
out so fast, I don't know. Perhaps Dr. Lardner can tell, but I'll
be hanged if I can, for the little critter is so light, be don't even
squash the grass^ The sailor waddles like a duck, and gives his
trousers a jerk, to keep them from going down the masts (his legs)',
by the run ; a sort of pull at the main-brace. The soldier steps
solemn and forma), as if the dead march in Saul was a play in. A
man and his wife walk on different sides of the street ; he sneaks
along head down, and 9he struts head up, as if she never heard the
old proverb, * woe to the bouse where the hen crows.' They leave
the carriage-way between them, as if they were afraid their thoughts
could be heard. When tneetin is out, a lover lags behind, as if he
had nothin above particular to do, but to go home ; and he is in no
hurry to do that, for dinner won't be ready this hour. But, as soon
as folks are dodged by a blue bonnet with pink ribbons ahead, he
pulls foot like a lamp-lighter, and is up with the gall that wear» it
in no time, and she whips her arm in hisn, and they saunter off, to
make the way as long as possible. She don't say '* Feeowerful ser-
mon that, warn't it ?" and be don't reply, " I beerd nothin but the
text, * love one another.' " Nor does he squeeae her »rm with his
elbow, nor she pinch his with her little blue-gloved fingers. Watch
them afler that, for they go so slow, they almost crawl, they have
80 much to say, and they want to make the best of their time ; and
besides, walking fast would put them out of breath.

The articled-clerk walks the streets with an air as much like a
military man as he can ; and it resembles it almost aa much as
electrotype ware does silver. He tries to look at ease, though it is
a great deal of trouble ; but be imitates bim to a hair in some
things, for be stares impudent at the galls, has a cigar in his mouth,
dresses snobbishly, and talks of making a book at Ascot. The
young lawyer struts along in his seven-league boots, has a white-
bound book in one hand, and a parcel of papers, tied with red tape,
in the other. He is in a desperate hurry,, and as sure as the world,
somebody is a dying, and has sent for him to make his will. The
Irish priest walks like a warder who has the keys. There is an air
of authority about him. He puts his cnne down on the pavement
hard, as much as to say, do you hear that, you spalpeen 1 He has
the secrets of all the parish in his keeping ; but they are other
folk's secrets, and not his own, and of course, so much lighter to
carry, it don't prevent him looking like a jolly fellow, as he is^ arter

■I I

TBB PLUBAL OF XOOBS.

ali. The high-churchman has an M. B. waistcoat on, is particular
about his dress, and walks easy, like a gentleman, looks a little pale
about the gills, like a student ; but has the air of a man that wanted
you to understand, I am about my work, and I would have you
to know I am the boy to do it, and do it, too, without a fuss. If
he meets a bishop, he takes his hat off, for he admits his authority.
If a beggar accosts him, he slips some charity in his hands, and
looks scared, lest he should be seen.

The low'churchman hates the M. B. vestment, it was him who
christened it. He is a dab at nick-names. He meant it to signify
the Mark of the Beast. He likes the broad-brimmed beaver, it's
more like a quaker, and less like a pope. It is primitive. He
looks better fed than the other, and in better care. Preachin he
finds, in a general way, easier than practice. Watch his face as he
goes along, slowly and solemncoly through the street. He looks
80 good, all the women that see him say, " Aint he a dear man V*
He is meekness itself. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He
has no pride in him. If there is any, it aint in his heart at any
rate. Perhaps there is a little grain in his legs, but it never got
any higher. Sometimes, I suspect, they have been touched with
the frost, for the air of a dining-room is colder under the table than
above it, and his legs do march stiff and formal like a soldier's, but
then, as he says, he is of the church militant. See what a curious
expression of countenance he has when he meets his bishop. Read
it, it says : " Now, my old Don, let us understand each other ; you
may ordain and confirm, but don't you go one inch beyond that.
No synods, no regeneration in baptism, no control for me ; I won't
stand it. My idea is, every clergyman is a bishop in his own par-
ish, and his synod is composed of pious galls that work, and rich
spinsters that give. If you do interfere, I will do my duty and re-
buke those in high places. Don't rile me, for I have an ugly pen,
an ugly tongue, and an ugly temper, and nothing but my sanctity
enables me to keep them under." If he is accosted by a beggar,
he don't, like the other, give him money to squander, but he gives
him instruction. He presents him with a tract. As he passes on,
the poor wretch pauses and looks after him, and mutters, "Is it a
prayer *? most likely, for that tract must be worth something, for it
cost something to print."

Then there is the sectarian lay-brother. He has a pious walk,
looks well to his ways lest he should stumble, and casting his eyes
down, kills two birds with one stone. He is in deep meditation
about a contract for a load of deal, and at the same time regards
his steps, for the ways of the world are slippery. His digestion is
not good, and he eats pickles, for the vinegar shews in his face.
Like Jehu Judd, he hates " fiddling and dancing, and serving the
'. 6* •

130

illLii! I '

i I

I ^

iiiii

r*;

THK PLTTBAL OV MOOBE.

devil," and it is lucky he has a downcast look, for here come two
girls that would shock him into an ague.

Both of them have the colonial step and air ; both of them, too,
are beautiful, as Nova Scotia girls generally are. The first is
young and delicate, and as blooming as a little blush-rose. She
holds out with each hand a portion of her silk dress, as if she was
walking a minuet, and it discloses a snow white petticoat, and such
a dear little foot and ankle — lick ! Her step is short and mincing.
She has a new bonnet on, just imported by the last English steamer.
It has a horrid name, it is called a kiss>me-quick. It is so far back
on her head, she is afraid people will think she is bare-faced, so she
casts her eyes down, as much as to say, " Don't look at me, please,
I am so pretty I am afraid you will stare, and if you do I shall
faint, as sure as the world, and if you want to look at my bonnet,
do pray go behind me, for what there is of it, is all there. It's a
great trial to me to walk alone, when I am so pretty." So she
compresses her sweet lips with such resolution that her dear little
month looks so small you'd think it couldn't take in a sugar-plum.
Oh, dear, here are some officers approaching, for though she looks
on the pavement, she can see ahead for all that. What is to be
done. She half turns aside, half is enough, to turn her back would
be rude, and she looks up at a print or a necklace, or something or
another in a shop window, and it's a beautiful attitude, and very
becoming, and if they will stare, she is so intent on the show glass,
she can't see them, and won't faint, and her little heart flutters as
one of them says as he passes, " Devilish pretty gall, that. Grant,
who is she ?" and then she resumes her walk, and minces on.

If any man was to take his Bible oath that that little delicate
girl, when she gets home, and the hall-door is shut, will scream out
at the tip eend of her voice, like a screeching paraquet, '' Eliza
Euphemia, where in creation have you stowed yourself too ?" and
that Eliza Euphemia would hear her away up in the third story,
and in tiie same key answer : " I can't come down, I aint fit to be
seen, nary way, for I'm all open before, and onfastened behind, and
my hair is all in paper," I wouldn't believe him ; would you 1

The other young lady, thnt follows, is a little too much of Juno,
and somewhat too little of Venus. She is a tall, splendid-looking
heifer, as fine a gal as you will see in any country, and she takes it
for granted you don't need to enquire who she is. She aint bold,
and she aint diffident ; but she can stare as well as you can, and
has as good a right too. Her look is scomy, as the snobocracy
pass and do homage, by bestowing on her an admiring look. Her
step is firm, but elastic ; it is a decided step, but the pious lay-
brother regards her not, and moves not out of his way for her. So
she stops mat he may see his error, and when he does look, he per-
oeives that it would lead him into further error if he gazed long,

i:UE PLVBAL OF VOOBE.

131

«o he moves to the other side of the path, but does it so slowly, sho
confronts him again. After a moment's reflection, he tries to turn
her flank — a movement that is unfortunately anticipated by her,
and there is a collision on the track. The concussion dislocates his
hat, and the red silk Bandannah handkerchief, which acted as travel-
ling-bag, and pocket-book, dischai^es its miscellaneous contents on
the pavement. That's onlucky ; for he was a going to shunt off ou
another line, and get away ; but he has to stop and pick up the frag-
mentary freight of his beaver.

Before he can do this, he is asked by Juno how he dares to stop
a lady in that indecent manner, in the street ; and while he is plead-
ing not guilty to the indictment, the' gentlemen that stared at the
simpering beauty, comes to the aid of the fair prosecutrix. She
knows them, and they say, *' Capital, by Jove — what a rum one he
is !" Rum one ; why he is a member of a temperance society, walks
in procession when to home, with a white apron in front, and the
ends of a scraflike sash behind, and a rosette as large as a soup-
plate on his breast — a rum one ; what an infamous accusation !

The poor man stands aghast at this ^ he humbly begs pardon,
and Juno is satisfied. She takes one of the beaux by the arm, and.
says : " Do pray see me home — I am quite nervous ;" and to prove
it she laughs as loud as any of them. The joke is now being carried
too far, and the young sword-knots pick up, amid roars of laughter,
his handkerchief, the papers, the horn-comb, the fig of tobacco, tho
fractured pipe, the jack-knife, and the clean shirt collar, that was
only worn once, and toss them into his hat, which is carefully
secured on his head, so low as to cover his eyes, and so tight as
nearly to shave off both his ears. Ttie lay brother thinks, with
great truth, that he would sooner take five yoke of oxen, and tail a
mast for a frigate, through the solid forest to the river, than snake
his way through the streets of a garrison town. After re-adjusting
his hat, he resumes his pious gait, and Juno also goes her way, and
exhibits her decided step.

Now, the step ot' Jessie and myself was unlike any of these — it
was a natui-al and easy one ; the step of people who had no
reason to hurry, and, at the same time, were not in the habit of
crawling. In this manner we proceeded to the lake, and sought a
point of land which commanded a full view of it on both sides, and
embraced nearly its whole length. Here was a clump of trees
from which the underwood had been wholly cut away, so as to form
a shade for the cattle depasturing in the meadow. As we entered
the grove, Jessie exclaimed :

" Oh ! Mr. Slick, do look ! Here is a canoe— can you use a
paddle!"

" As well as an oar," said I, " and, perhaps a little grain better ;
for I haven't been down all the New Brunswick And Nova Scotia

182

tVt PLUBAL or 1I008S.

rivers in 'em for nothing, let alone Lake Michigan, Geoi^e, Mada-
waska and Rossignol, ai^ I don't know how many others. Step in,
and let us have at them on the water."

In a minute the canoe was launched and away we flew like light-
ning. Oh, there is nothing like one of those light elegant graceful
barks ; what is a wherry or a whale-boat, or a skull or a gig to
them ? They draw no more water than an egg-shell ; they require
no strength to paddle ; they go ri^t up on the beach, and you can
carry them about like a basket. With a light hand, a cool head
and a quick eye, you can make them go where a duck can. What
has science, and taste, and handicraft ever made to improve on this
simple contrivance of the savage. When I was for two years in
John Jacob Astor JFur Company's emfdoyment, I knew the play of
Jessie's tribe.

" Can you catch," said I, " Miss V*

"Can your

"Never fear."

And we exchanged paddles as she sat in one end of the eanoe, and
I in the other, by throwing them diagonally at each other as if we
were passing a shuttle-eock. She almost screamed with deligh't,
and in her enthusiasm addressed me in her native Indian language.

" Gaelic," said I, " give me Gaelic dear, for I am very simple
and very innocent."

" Oh, very," she said, and as she dropped her paddle into the
water, managed to give me the benefit of a spoonfull in the eyes.
\ After we had tried several evolutions with the canoe and had pro-
ceeded homeward a short distance, we opened a miniature bay into
which we leisurely paddled, until we arrived at its head, where
a small waterfall of about forty feet in height, poured its tributary
stream into the lake. On the right hand side which was nearest to
the house was a narrow strip of verdant intervale, dotted here and
there with vast shady beeches and elms. I never saw a more lovely
spot. Hills rose above each other beyond the waterfall, like but-
tresses to support the conical one that though not in itself a moun-
tain, (for there is not, strictly speaking, one in this province,) yet
loomed as large in the light mist that enveloped its lofty peak. As
this high cliff rose abruptly from the lake, the light of smaller cas-
cades was discernible through the thin shrubbery that clothed its
rocky side, although their voice was drowned in the roar of that at
its base.

Nothing was said by either of us for some time, for both were
occupied by different thoughts. I was charmed with its extraord^
nary beauty, and wondered how it was possible that it should be so
little known as not even to have a name. My companion, on the
other hand was engaged in sad reflections which the similarity of

THE FLUBAL OF MOOSE.

188

ge, Maclju
Step in,

like light*
it graceful

• a gig to
jy require
1 you can
cool head
a. What
ye on this

* years in
le play of

sanoe, and
r as if we
h delight,
language,
ry simpl-e

i into the
ke eyes,
d had pro-
B bay into
id, where
tributary
nearest to
1 here and
)Te lovely
. like but-
f a moun-
ince,) yet
>eak. As
laller cas-
lothed its
of that at

X)th were
extraordji-
uld be so
rn, on the
ilarity of

the scene with her early recollections of her home in the far west,
suggested to her mind.

" Ain't this beautiful, Jessie ?" I said, " don't this remind you of
Canada, or rather your own country f

" Oh, yes," she said, " me — me,'' for during the whole day there
had been a sad confusion of languages and idioms, " me very happy
and very sad ; I want to laugh, I want to cry ; I am here and there,"
pointing to the north west. " Laughing, talking, sporting with my
father and Jane, and you, and am also by the side of my dear
mother, far — far beyond those hills. I see your people and my
people ; I paddle in our canoe, shoot with our bows, speak our lan-
guage; yes, I am here, and there also. The sun too is in both
places. He sees us all. When I die, perhaps I shall go back, but
I am not of them or of you— I am nothing," and she burst into
tears and wept bitterly.

" Jessie," said I, " let us talk about something else ; you have
been too much excited this morning, let us enjoy what God gives
us and not be ungrateful ; let your sister come also, and try the
canoe once more. This is better than a hot room, ain't it ? "
' Oh, yes," she replied, " this is life. This is freedom."

" Suppose we d:ae here," I said.

" Oh, yes," she replied, " I should like it above all things. Let
us dine on the grass, the table the great spirit spreads for his chil-
dren ;" and the transient cloud passed away, and we sped back to
the lawn as if the bark that carried us was a bird that bore us on
its wings.

Poor Jessie, how well I understood her emotions. Home is a
word, if there is one in the language, that appeals directly to the
heart. Man and wife, father and mother, brothers and sisters,
master and servant with all their ties, associations and duties all,
all are contained in that one word. Is it any wonder, when her
imagination raised them up before her, that the woman became
again a child and that she longed for the wings of the dove to !Ay
away to the tents of her tribe in the far west. I am myself as dry,
as seasoned, and as hard as the wood of which my clocks are jnade.
I am a citizen of the world rather than of Slickville. But I too felt
my heart sink within me when I reflected that mine, also, was deso-
late, and that I was alone in my own house, the sole surviving
tenant of all that large domestic circle, whose merry voices once
made its silent halls vocal with responsive echoes of happiness.
We know that our fixed domicile is not here, but we feel that it is,
and must continue to be our home, ever dear and ever sacred until
we depart hence for another and a better world. They know but
little of the agency of human feelings, who in their preaching,
attempt to le&sen our attachment for the paternal roof, because, in
common with all other earthly possessions it is perishable in its

134

THE PLUBAL OF MOOBB.

fe^ '

r W'

nature, and uncertain in its tenure. The home of life is not the
less estimable, because it is not the home of eternity ; but the
more valuable, perhaps, as it prepares and fits us by its joys and
its sorrows, its rights and its duties, and also by what it withholds,
as well AS imparts for that inheritance which awaits us hereafter.
Yes, home is a great word, but its full meaning ain't understood
by every one.

It ain t those who have one, or those who have none that com-
prehend what it is; nor those who in the course of nature leave the
old and found a new one for themsel ^ es ; nor those who when they
quit shut their eyes and squinch their faces when they think of it,
as if it fetched something to their mind that wam't pleasant to recol-
lect ; nor those who suddenly rise so high in life, that their parents
look too vulgar, or the old cottage too mean for them, or their
former acquaintances too low. But I'll tell you who knows the
meaning and feels it too ; a fellow like me who had a cheerful
home, a merry and a happy home, and who when he returns from
foreign lands finds it deserted and as still as the grave, and all that
he loved scattered and gone, some to the tomb and others to distant
parts of the earth. The solitude chills him, the silence appals him.
At night shadows follow him like ghosts of the departed, and the
walls echo back the sound of his footsteps, as if demons were
laughing him to scorn. The least noise is heard over the whole
house. The clock ticks so loud he has to remove it, for it affects
his nerves. The stealthy mouse tries to annoy him v/ith his mimic
personification of the burglar, and the wind moans among the trees
as if it lamented the general desolation. If he strolls ou!) in his
grounds, the squirrel ascends the highest tree and chatters and
scolds at the unusi^al intrusion, while the birds fly away screaming
with affright, as if pursued by a vulture. They used to be tame
once, when the family inhabited the house, and listen with wonder
at notes sweeter and more musical than their own. They would
even feed from the hand that protected them. His dog alone seeks
his society, and strives to assure him by mute but expressive
gestures that he at least will never desert him. As he paces his
lonely quarter-deck, (as he calls the gravel walk in front of his
house,) the silver light of the moon gleaming here and there
between the stems of the aged trees startles him with the delusion
of unreal white robed forms, that flit about the shady groves as if
enjoying or pitying his condition, or perhaps warning him that in a
few short years he too must join this host of disembodied spirits.

Time hangs heavily on his hands, he is tired of reading, it is too
early for repose, so he throws himself on the sofa and muses, but
even meditation calls for a truce. His heart laments its solitude,
and his tongue its silence. Nature is weary and exhausted and
sleep at last comes to his aid. But alas I he awakes in the morn-

A. DJLT on T1HB LAXK.

186

sng only to resxime his dull monotcnous coarse, and at last he fuUy
comprehends what it Is to be alcKie. Women won't come to see
him, for fear they mi^t be talked about, and those that would
€ome would soon mako him a ^abject of scandal. He and the
world like two people travelliag in opposite directions, soon
increase at a rapid rate the distanc($ between them. He loses his
interest in what is going on around him, and people lose their
interest in him. If his name hap pens to be mentioned, it may
occasion a listless remark, " I wencier how he spends his time,*' or
"the poor devil must be lonely there."

Yes, yes, there are many folks iio, the world that talk of things
they don*t understand, and they are precious few who appreciate
the meaning of that endearing te rm " home." He only knows it
as I have said who has lived in o:Qe, amid a large family, of which
he is the solitary surviving; member. The change is like going
from the house to the sepulchre, vrith this difference only, one holds
a living and the other a de.aid body. Yes, if you have had a home,
you kiMw what it is, bvt if you liave lost it, then and not till then
do you feel its value.

CHAPTER X.
A DAY ON THE LAKE, PART I.

Whek we reached the grove, I left Jessie in the canoe, and went
up to the house in «> arch of her sister. Jackson and Peter were
sitting on the wood- j )ile ; the latter was smoking his pipe, and the
other held his in hi .s hand, as he was relating some story of his
exploits in Spain, When I approached, he rose up and saluted me
in his usual formal manner.

" Where is the Doctor," said I, "and the rest of the party?"

" Gone to see a tame moose of his, Sir," he said, " in the pas-
ture; but they wi 11 be back directly."

" Well," sais I, lighting a cigar by Peter's pipe, and taking a seat
alongside of hipi. , " go on, Jackson ; don't let me interrupt you."

" I was just tf sUing Mr. M'Donald, Sir," said he, " of a night I
onpe spent on tb e field of battle in Spain."

"Well, goon ."

" As I was a saying to liim. Sir," he continued, " you could hear
the wolves am< )ng the dead and the dying a howling like so many
devils. I was afraid to go to sleep, as I didn't know when my
turn might coi ne ; so I put my Ciarl^e aoross my knee$, and eat

186

▲ DAT OH THE LAKE

li '

I I

up 88 well as I oould, determined to sell my life as dearly as pos*
siole, but I was so weaic from the loss of blood, that I kept dozing
and starting all the time amost Oh, what a tedious night that
was, Sir, and how I longed for the dawn of day, when search should
bo made among us for the wounded ! Just as the fog began to
rise, I saw an enormous wolf, about a hundred yards or so from
me, busy tearing a body to pieces ; and, taking a good steady aim
at him, I fired, when he called out :

" ' Blood and 'ounds ! you cowardly furrin rascal, haven't you
had your belly-full of fighting yet, that you must be after mur-
thering a wounded man that way ? By the powers of Moll Kelly,
but you won't serve Pat Kallahan that dirty trick again, anyhow.'

" As he levelled at me, I fell back, and the ball passed right over
me and struck a wounded 'orse that was broke down behind, and
a sittin* up on his fore-legs like a dog. Oh, the scream of that are
hanimal, Sir, was just like a Christian's. It was hawful. I have
the sound of it in my ears now halmost. It pierced through me,
and you might have 'eard it that still morning over the whole field.
He sprung up and then fell over, and kicked and struggled furious
for a minute or two before he died, and every time he lashed out,
you oould a 'eard a 'elpless wounded wretch a groanin' bitterly, as
he battered away at him. The truth is. Sir, what I took for a wolf
that hazy morning was poor Pat, who was sitting up, and trying
to bandage his ankle, that was shattered by a bullet, and the way
he bobbed his head up and down, as he stooped forward, looked
exactly as a wolf does when he is tearing the flesh off a dead
body.

" Well, the scream of that are 'orse, and the two shots the dra-
goon and I exchanged, saved my life, for I saw a man and a woman
making right straight for us. It was Betty, Sir, God bless her, and
Sergeant M'Clure. The 'oulin' she sot up, when she saw me, was
dreadful to 'ear, Sir.

" ' Betty,' said I, * dear, for heaven's sake see if you can find a
drop of brandy in any of these poor fellows* canteens, for I am
perishing of thirst, and 'most chilled to death.'

" ' Oh, Tom, dear,' said she, ' I have thought of that,' and un-
slinging one from her shoulders put it to my lips, and I believe I
would have drained it at a draft, but she snatched it away directly,
and said :

" ' Oh, do 'ee think of that dreadful stroke of the sun, Tom, It
will set you crazy if you drink any more.'

"'The stroke of the sun be hanged!' said I; Mt's not in my
head this time — it's in the other eend of me.'

" ' Oh, dear, dear !' said Betty ; ' two such marks as them, and
you so handsome, too! Oh, dear, dear !' .

'* Poor old soul ! it's a way she had of tryujg to come round me.

B«it',,

■:■■.•;*?-

A DAT OH TBB LAXB.

187

irly M po*"
kept dozing

night that
arch should
)g began to
or so froni

steady aim

haven't you
e after mur-
MoU Kelly,
n, anyhow.*
sd right over
behind, and
1 of that are
fill. I have
through me,
8 whole field,
ggled furious
e lashed out,
i' bitterly, as
ok for a wolf
p, and trying
and the way
ward, looked
h off a dead

ihots the dra-

and a woman

)less her, and

saw me, was

oa can find a
ns, for 1 am

hat,' and un-
nd I believe 1
way directly,

}UD, Tom. It

s not in my

as them, and

ne round me.

" • Where is it ?• said M'Clure.

" * In the calf of my leg,' said I.

" Well, he was a handy man, for he had been a hospital-sargeant,
on account of being able to read doctors* pot-hooks and inscrip.
tions. So he cut my boot, and stript down my stocking and
looked at it. Says he, ' I must make a turn-and-quit.'

" ' Oh, Rory,' said I, * don't turn and quit your old comrade that
way.'

"*0h, Rory, dear,' said Betty, *don't'ee leave Tom now

don't'ee, that's a good soul.'

"*Pooh!' said he, * nonsense! How your early training has
been neglwted, Jackson !'

" ' Rory,' said I, ' if I was well, you wouldn't dare to pass that
slur upon me. 1 am as well-trained a soldier, and as brave a man,
as ever you was.'

" ' Tut, tut, man,' said he, * I meant your learning.'

" * Well,' says I, ' I can't brag much of that, and I am not sorry for
it. Many a better scholar nor you, and better-looking man, too,
has been anged afore now, for all his schoolin'.'

" Says he, ' I'll soon set you up, Tom. Let me see if I can find
anything here that will do for a turn-and-quit.'

" Close to where I lay, there was a furrin officer, who had his
head nearly amputated with a sabre cut. Well, he took a beauti-
fiil gold watch repeater out of his fob, and a great roll of doub-
loons out of one pocket, and a little case of diamond rings out of
the other.

" ' The thieving Italian rascal !' said he, ' he has robbed a jew-
eller's shop before he left the town,' and he gave the body a kick
aiid passed on. Well, close to him was an English officer.

" ' Ah,' said he, ' here is something useful,' and he undid his sash,
and then feeling in his breast-pocket, he hauled out a tin tobacco-
case, and openin' of it, says he :

" ' Tom, here's a real god-send for you. This and the sash I
will give you as a keepsake. They are mine by the fortune of
war, but I will bestow them on you.' "

" Oigh ! oigh !" said Peter, " she was no shentleman."

" He warn't then, Sir," said Tom, not understanding him, " for
he was only a sargeant like me at that time, but he is now, for he
is an officer."

" No, no," said Peter, " the king can make an offisher, but she
can't make a shentleman. She took the o^'stcr her nainsel, and
gave you the shell."

" Well," continued Jackson, " he took the sash, and tied it round
my leg, and then took a bayonet off a corpse, and with that twisted
it round and round so tight it hurt more nor the wound, and then
he secured the bayonet so that it wouldn't slip. There was a fur^

138

A DAT ON THE LAKE.

'1 !

■f.

II I-

rin trooper's 'orse not far off that had lost his rider, and had got
his rein under his foreleg, so Betty caught him and brought him to
where I was a sitting. By the aid of another pull at the canteen,
^vvhich put new life into me, and by their assistance, I was got on
lSk& saddle, and he and Betty steadied me on the hanimal, a.iid led
mc off. I no sooner got on the 'orse than Betty fell to a crying
and ft scolding again like anything.

" * What ails you now,' says I, * Betty 1 You are like your own
town of Plymouth — it's showery weather with you all the year
round a'naost. What's the matter now V

" ' Oh, Tom, Tom,' said she, ' you will break my 'eart yet — I
know you wilL'

" ' Why, what have I done?' says I. • I couldn't help getting
that little scratch on the leg.'

" * Oh, it tante that,' she said ; * it's that *orrid stroke of the
eun. There's your poor 'ead huncovered again. Where is your
*elmet?'

" * Oh, bother,' sais I, ' 'ow do I know 1 Somewhere on the
ground, 1 suppose.'

" Well, back she ran as 'ard as she could, but McClure wouldn't
wait a moment for her and went on, and as she couldn't find mine,
she undid the furriner's and brought that, and to pacify her I had
to put it on and wear it It was a good day for McClure, and I
was glad of it, for he was a gieat scholar and the best friend I
ever had. He sold the 'orse for twenty pounds afterwards."

"She don't want to say nothin' disrespectable," said Peter,
*' against her friend, but she was no shentleman for all tat."

" He is now," said Tom again, with an air of triumph. " He is
an officer, and dines at the mess. I don't suppose he'd be seen
with me now, for it's agen the rules of the service, but he is the
best friend I have in the world"

"She don't know nothin' about ta mess herself," said Peter,
" but she supposes she eats meat and drinks wine every tay, which
was more tan she did as a poy. But she'd rather live on oatmeal
and drink whiskey, and be a poor shentleman, than be an officher
like Rory M'Clure, and tine with the Queen, Cot bless her."

" And the old pipe, then, was all you got for your share, was
it?" says I.

" No, Sir," said Tom, " it warn't. One day, when I was nearly
well, Betty came to me.

" ' Oh, Tom," said she, ' I have such good news for you.'

" ' What is it?' sais I ; *are we going to have another general
engagement?'

" * Oh, dear, I hope not,' she said. ' You have had enough of
fighting for one while, and you are always so misfortuna'te.'

«* Well, what is it?' sais I.

and had got
)Ught him to
the canteen,
was got on
tnal, ajid led
I to a crying

ce your own
all the year

*eart yet — I

help getting

troke of the
lere is your

here on the

are wouldn^t
I't find mine,
ify her I had
iClure, and I
best friend I
srards."

said Peter,

tat."

3h. " He is
he'd be seen
but he is the

said Peter,
y tay, which
i on oatmeal
>e an ofiicher
5 her."
ir share,- was

I was nearly

you.'

)ther general

i enough of
Qa'te.'

A DA.Y OK THB LAKE.

139

" * Will you promise me not to tell V

«* Yes,' said I, 'I will'

" * That's just what you said the first tim'e I kissed you. Do get
out,' she replied, 'and you promise not to lisp a word of it to Rory
McClure ? or he'll claim it as he did that 'orse ; and, Tom, I caught
that 'orse, and he was mine. It was a 'orrid, nasty, dirty, mean
trick that.'

" ' Betty,' said I, ' I won't hear a word agin him : he is the best
friend I ever had, but I won't tell him, ii' you wish it.'

" Well,' said Betty, and she bust out crying for joy, for she can
cry at nothing, a'most. * Look, Tom, here's twenty Napoleons ; I
found them quilted in that officer's 'elmet.' So after all, I got out
of that scrape pretty well, didn't I, Sir 'i "

" Indeed she did," said Peter, " but if she had seen as much of
wolves as Peter McDonald has, she wouldn't have been much
frightened by them. This is the way to scare a whole pack of
them," and stooping down, and opening a sack, he took out the bag-
pipes, and struck up a. favorite highland air. If it was calculated
to alaftn the animals of the forest, it at all events served now to
recall the party, who soon made their appearance from the moose
yard. " Tat," said Peter, " will make 'em scamper like the tevil.
It has saved her life several times."

" So I should think," said I. (For of all the awful instruments
that ever was heard, that is the worst. Pigs in a bag aint the
smallest part of a circumstance to it, for the way it squeals is a
caution to cats.) When the d«vil was a carpenter, he cut his foot
so bad with an adze, he threw it down, and gave up the trade in
disgust. And now that Highlanders have given up the trade of
barbarism, and become the noblest fellows in Europe, they should
follow the devil's example, and throw away the bagpipes for ever.'*

" I have never seen McCluf e," said Jackson, addressing me,
^'but once since he disputed with the countryman about the plural
of moose in the country-inarket. I met him in the street one day,
jmd savs L

" ' How are you, Rory ? Suppose we take a bit of a walk.

" Well, he held up his head stiff* and straight, and didn't speak
for a minute or two ; at last he said :

" ' How do you do, Sargeant Jackson V

" ' Why, Rory,' sais I, ^ what ails you to act that way ? What'a
the matter with you now, to treat an old comrade in that manner ] '*

" He stared hard at me in the face again, without giving any ex-
planation. At last he said, " Sargeant Jackson,' and then he stop-
ped again. ' If anybody speers at you where Ensign Roderich
McClure is to be found, say ob. the second flat of the officers^
^quarters at the North Barracks;;' and he walked oq and left me.
Ha had got his oommission."

140

▲ DAT ON TBB LAKE.

*' She had a highland name," said Peter, " and tat is all, but she
was only a lowland Glaskow peast. Ta teivil tack a' such friends
ae tat."

" Doctor," said I, " Jessie and I have discovered the canoe, and
had a glorious row of it. I see you have a new skiflf there ; sup*
pose we all finish the morning on the lake. We have been up to
the waterfall, and if it is agreeable to you, Jessie proposes to dine
at the intervale instead of the house."

" Just the thing," said the Doctor, " but you understand these
matters better than I do, so just give what instructions you think
proper."

Jackson and Betty were accordingly directed to pack up w^hat
VfM needful, and hold themselves in readiness to be embarked on
our return from the excursion on the water. Jessie, her sister and
myself took the canoe ; the Doctor and Cutler the boat, and Peter
was placed at the stem to awaken the sleeping echoes of the lake
with his pipes. The Doctor seeing me provided with a short gun,
ran hastily back to the house for his bow and arrows, and thus
equipped and grouped, we proceeded up the lake, the canoe taking
the lead. Peter struck up a tune on his pipes. The great
expanse of water, and the large open area where they were played,
as well as the novelty of the scene, almost made me think that it
was not such bad music after all, as I had considered it.

After we had proceeded a short distance, Jessie proposed a race
between the canoe and the boat. I tried to dissuade her from it, on
account of the fatigue she had already undergone, and the excite-
ment she had maniifested at the waterfall, but she declared herself
perfectly well, and able for the contest. The odds were against
the girls ; for the Captain and the Doctor were both experienced
hands, and powerful, athletic men, and their boat was a flat-bot-
tomed skiflf, and drew but little water. Added to which, the young
women had been long out of practice, and their hands and muscles
were unprepared by exercise. I yielded at last, on condition that
the race should terminate at a large rock, that rose out of the lake
at about a mile from us. I named this distance, not merely because
I wished to limit the extent of their exertion, but because I knew
that if they had the lead that far, they would be unable to sustain
it beyond that, and that they would be beaten by the main strength
of the rowers. We accordingly slackened our speed till the boat
came up alongside of us. The challenge was given and accepted,
and the terminus pointed out, and when the signal was made, away
we went with great speed.

For more than two-thirds of the distance, we were bow and
bow, sometimes one and sometimes the other being ahead, but on
no occasion did the distance exceed a yard or so. When we had
but the remaining third to accomplish^ I cautioned the girls that

A DAT ON THE t<>KS.

141

i all, but she
such friends

e canoe, and
there ; sup-
3 been up to
>oses to dine

Tstand these
as you think

ack up what
imbarked on
er sister and
it, and Peter
i of the lake
a short gun,
ws, and thus
canoe taking

The great
«rere played,
think that it
t.

bosed a race
kr from it, on

the excite-
ired herself
v&re against

experienced
,s a flat-bot-
h, the young
and muscles
ndition that

of the lake
rely because
tuse I knew
to sustain
tain strength
bill the boat
id accepted,

made, away

re bow and
ead, but on
leh we had
e girls that

the rowers would now probably put out all their strength, and take
them by surprise, and therefore advised them to be on their guard.
They said a few words to each other in their native language,
laughed, and at once prepared for the crisis, by readjusting their
seats and foothold, and then the eldest said, with a look of anima-
tion, that made her surpassingly beautiful, " Now," and away we
went like iled lightning, leaving the boat behind at a rate that was
perfectly incredible.

They had evidently been playing with them at first, and doing
no more than to ascertain their speed and power of propulsion,
and had all along intended to reserve themselves for this triumph
at the last. As soon as we reached the winning point, I rose up
to give the cheer of victory, but just at that moment, they suddenly
backed water with their paddles, and in turning towards the boat,
the toe of my boot caught in one of the light ribs of the canoe,
which had been loosened by the heat of the sun, and I instantly
saw that a fall was unavoidable. To put a hand on the side of the
little bark would inevitably overset it, and precipitate the girls into
the lake. I had but one resource left, therefore, and that was to
arch over the gunwale, and lift my feet clear of it, while I dove
into the water. It was the work of an instant, and in another, I
had again reached the canoe. Begging Jessie to move forward, so
as to counter-balance my weight, 1 rose over the stern, (if a craft
can be said to have one, where both ends are alike, and it can be
propelled either way,) and then took the seat that had been occu-
pied by her.

" Now, Jane," said I, " I must return to the house, and get a dry
'3uit of the Doctor^s clothes ; let us see what we can do. The Doc-
tor told me Betty knew more about his wardrobe than he did him-
self, and would furnish me with what I required ; and in the mean-
time, that they would lay upon their oars till we returned. Are
you ready. Miss," said I, '^ 1 want you to do your prettiest now,
and put your best foot out, because I wish them to see that I am
not the awkward critter in a canoe they think I am."

The fact is. Squire, that neither the Doctor nor Cutler knew, that
to avoid falling, under the circumstances I was placed in, and to
escape without capsizing the canoe, was a feat that no man, but one
familiar with the management of those fragile barks, and a good
swimmer, too^ can perform. Peter was aware of it, and appre*
dated it; but the other two seemed disposed to cut their jokes
upon me ; and them that do that, generally find, in the long run, I
am upsides with them, that's a fact. A cat and a Yankee always
come on their feet, pitch them up in the air as high, and as often,
as you please.

" Now for it," said I, and away we went at a 2.30 pace, as we
say df our trotting horses. Cutler and the Doctor sheered us as

142

A i)At ON HUM tAKS<

i'*

we went : and Peter, as the latter told me afterwards, said : ** A
man who can dwell like an otter, on both land and sea, has two
lives." I indorse that saw, he made it himself; it*s genuine, and it
was like a trapper's maxim. Wam't it ?

As soon as I landed, I cut off for the house, and in no time rigged
up in a dry suit of our host's, and joined the party, afore they
knew where they Were. I put on a face as like the Doctor's, as
two clocks of mine are to each other. I didn't do it to make fun
of him, but out of him< Oh, they roared again, and the Doctor
joined in it as heartily as any of them, though he didn't ifinderstand
the joke. But Peter didn't seem to like it, He had lived so much
among the Indians, and was so accustomed to their way of biling
things down to an essence, that he spoke in proverbs, or wise saws.
Says he to me, with a shake of his head, " a mocking'bird has no
voice of its own" It warn't a bad sayin', was it 1 I wish I had
noted more of them, for though I like 'em, I am so yarney, I can't
make them as pithy as he did. I can't talk short-hand, and I must
say I like condensation. Now, brevity is the only use to individu-
als there is in telegraphs. There is very little good news in the
world for any of us ; and bad news comes fast enough. I hate
them myself. The only good there is in 'em, is to make people
write short ; for if you have to pay for every word you use, you
won't be extravagant in 'em, there is no mistake.

Telegraphs ruin intellect ; they reduce a wise man to the level
of a fool ; and fifty years hence, there won't be a sensible trader
left. For national purposes they are very well, and government
ought to have kept them to themselves, for those objects ; but they
play the devil with merchants. There is no room for the exercise
of judgment. It's a dead certainty now. Flour is eight dollars in
England ; well, every one knows that, and the price varies, and
every one knows that also, by telegraph. Before that, a judgmati-
cal trader took his cigar in his mouth, sal down, and calculated.
Crops short, Russian war, blockade, and so on. Capital will run
up prices, till news of new harvests are known ; and then they will
come down by the run. He deliberates, reasons, and decides.
Now, the last Liverpool paper gives the price current. It advises
all, and governs all. Any blockhead can be a merchant now. For-
merly, they poked sapey-headed goneys into Parliament, to play
dummey ; or into the army and navy, the church, and the colonial
office. But they kept clever fellows for law, special commissioners,
the stage, the ' Times,' the * Chronicle,' and such like able papers,
and* commerce ; and men of ^iddlin* talents were resarved for doc-
tors, solicitors, Gretna Green, and so on.

But the misfortinate prince-merchants now will have to go to
the bottom of the list with tradesmen and retailers. They can't
hays an opinion of their own — tho telegraph will give it. The

'ds, sa(<3 : •* A
i sea, has two
genuine, and it

10 time rigged
;y, afore they
Doctor's, as
to make fun
I the Doctor
I't (inderstand
lived so much
w&y of biling
or wise saws.
f'bird has no
I wish I had
arney, I can't
i, and I must
5 to individu-
news in the
•ugh. I hate
make people
you use, you

to the level
isible trader

government
ts ; but they

the exercise
;ht dollars in

Varies, and
, a judgmati-
1 calculated,
ital will run
len they will
md decides.
It advises
; now. For-
ent, to play
the colonial
[imissioners,
able papers,
'ved for doc-

ire to go to

They can't

ve it. The

A DAT ON THB LAKE.

148

latest quotations, as they call them, come to them, they know that
iron is Jirm, and timber giving way, that lead is dull and heavy ^
and coal gone to blazes, while the stocks are rising and vessels
sinking ; all the rest they won't trouble their heads about. The
man who trades with Cuba, won't care about Sinope, and it's too
much trouble to look for it on the map. While the Black Sea man
won't care about Toronto, or whether it is in Nova Scotia or Ver-
mont, in Canada or California. There won't soon be a merchant
that understands geography.

But what is wuss, half the time the news is false ; and if it
hadn't been for that, old Hemp and Iron would have made a for-
tune. And if it is true, it's worse still, for he would have acted
on his own judgment if he hadn't heard it, and circumstances would
have altered as they always are doing every day, and he would
have made a rael hit. Oh, I hate them. And, besides this, they
have spoiled them by swearing the operators. An oath gives them
fellows such an itch to blart, that though they don't inform, they
let the cat out of the bag, and that is as bad. Tell you what, I
wouldn't like to confess by telegraph. If I am courting a gall, and
she sais all right, why then my fun is spoiled, for when a thing is
settled, all excitement is gone, and if I am refused, the longer I
am in ignorance the better. It is wiser to wait, as the Frenchman
did at Clare, who sat up three nights to see how the letters passed
over the wires. Well, if I am married, I have to report progress,
and log-books are always made up before or afterwards. It's apt
to injure my veracity. In short, you know what I mean, and I
needn't follow it out, for a nod is as good as a wink to a blind
horse.

But the Lord have mercy on merchants ; any fool will get along
as well as the best of them now. Dear me, I recollect a man they
poked fun at once at Salem. They induced him, by way of a rise,
to ship a cargo of blankets and warming-pans to the West Indies.
Well, he did so, and made a good speck, for the pans were bought
for dippers, and the blankets for strainers. Yes, telegraphs will
reduce merchants to the level of that fellow Isaac Oxter.

But 1 must look for the trail again, or I shall forget my story.

I think I left off where I got back in the canoe, and joined the
party in the boat. Well, we then proceeded like the off and near
ox, pulling from rather than to each other, but still keeping neck
and ne^k as it were. In this manner we proceeded to the head of
the lake, and then as we returned, steered for a small wooded
island in the centre, where I proposed to land and rest awhile, for
this beautiful sheet of water was of considerable extent. As we
approached it, Peter again struck up his pipes, and shortly after-
wards a noble male moose, as much terrified by the noise, as
McDonald said Canada wolves were, broke cover, and swam for

144

A DAT ON THE LAEB,

the main-land. The moose frequently select such places to secure
their young from the bears, who are their greatest enemies, and
find an easy prey in their helpless calves, it is not improbable
that the female still remained, and that this act of gallantry in the
buck was intended to withdraw attention from her, and thus save
her from pursuit. I had no bullets with me, and my gun was only
loaded with duck-shot. To discharge that at him, would have been
a wanton act of cruelty, as at most it could only inflict upon him
painful wounds. In this emergency, Jessie pointed to a stout half-
inch rope that was coiled up in the bottom of the canoe, and I im-
mediately exchanged places with her, and commenced making a
lasso, while she plied the paddle.

We gained rapidly upon him, and I was preparing to throw the
fatal noose over his horns, when to my astonishment he raised his
neck and a portion of his fore-legs out of the water, as if he was
landing. We were then a considerable distance from the shore,
but it appeared, as I aflerwards learned from the Doctor, that a
long low neck of land made out there into the lake, that was only
submei^ed in the spring and autumn, but in summer was covered
with wild grass, upon which deer fed with avidity, as an agreeable
change from browsing. The instinct of the animal induced him to
make for this shallow, from which he could bound away at full
speed (trot) into the cover.

All hope of the chase was now over, and I wns about abandon-
ing it in despair, when an arrow whizzed by us, and in an instant
he sprang to his feet, and exposed his huge form to view. He was
a remarkable fine specimen of his kind, for they are the largest as
well as the ugliest of the deer tribe. For an instant ho paused,
shook himself violently, and holding down his head, put up his
fore-leg to break off that which evidently maddened him with pain.
He then stood up erect, with his head high in the air, and laid his
horns back on his neck, and giving a snort of terror, prepared to
save his life by flight.

It is astonishing how much animation and attitude has to do with
beauty. I had never seen one look well before, but as his form
was relieved against the sky, he looked as l\e is, the giant king of
the forest. He was just in the act of shifting his feet in the yield-
ing surface of the boggy meadow, preparatory to a start, when he
was again transfixed by an arrow, in a more vulnerable and vital
part. He sprung, or rather reared forward, and came down on
his knees, and then several times repeated the attempt to com-
mence his flight by the same desperate effort. At last he fell to
rise no more, and soon rolled over, and after some splashing with
his head to avoid the impending death by drowning, quietly sub-
mitted Jx> his &te. Nothing now was visible of hiiA but the tops

A. OAT ON THE LASB.

145

IS to secure
Lemies, and
Improbable
,ntry in the
d thus save
n was only
i have been
) upon him
i stout half-
s, and J im-
[ making a

throw the
e raised his
IS if he was
. the shore,
)ctor, that a
at was only
Nos covered
ia agreeable
uced him to
way at full

it abandon-

an instant

Hr. He was

e largest as

he paused,

put up his

I with pain.

Eind laid his

repared to

to do with
his form
fant king of
the yield-
It, when he
]e and vital
le down on
[pt to com-
he fell to
shing with
iuietly sub-
It the tops

of his horns, and a small strip of the hide that covered his ribs. A
shout from the boat proclaimed the victory.

" Ah, Mr. Slick," said the Doctor, " what could you have done
with only a charge of duck-shot in your gun, eh 1 The arrow, you
see, served for shot and bullet. I could have killed him with the
6rst shafl, but his head was turned and covered the vital spot. So
I had to aim a little too far forward, but still it carried a death-
warrant with it, for he couldn't have run over a mile without
falling from exhaustion, arising from the loss of blood. It is a
charming day for the bow, for there is no wind, and I could hit a
dollar at a hundred and twenty yards. There is another on that
island, but she probably has a calf, perhaps two, and it would be a
wicked waste of the food that God provides for us to destroy her.
But we must get this gentleman into the boat, and it will bring us
down so deep in the water, we must keop near the shore, as it may
be necessary occasionally to wade."

Peter, without ceremony, began to make preparations for such
an emergency. He had been accustomed all his life, until he left
the Norwest Company's employment, to the kilt, and he neither
felt nor looked at home in the trousers. Like most of his country-
men, he thought there was more beauty in a hairy leg,jind in a
manly shammy-leather looking skin, than in any covering. While
his bald knee, the ugliest, weakest, most compljipated and important
loint in the frame, he no doubt regarded with as much veneration
as the pious do the shaven crown of a monk. He therefore very
complacently and coolly began to disencumber himself of this
detestable article of the tailor's skill. I thought it best therefore
to push off in time, to spare his daughters this spectacle, merely
telling the Doctor we would wait for him where we had embarked.

We proceeded very leisurely, only once in a while dipping the
paddle gently into the water, so as to keep up the motion of the
canoe. The girls amused themselves by imitating the call and
answer of the loon, the blue jay, the king-fisher, and the owl. With
a piece of bark, rolled up in the form of a short-ear trumpet, they
mimicked the hideous voice of the moose, and the not less disagree-
able lowing of the cariboo. The martin started in surprise at his
affrighted neighbor on the water, and the fox no doubt, crept from
his hole to listen to the voice that called him to plunder, at this
dangerous hour. All these sounds are signals among the Indians,
and are carried to a perfection, that deceives the ear of nature
itself. I had read of their great power, in this species of ventrilo-
quism, but never had heard it practised before, with the exception
of the imitation of the deer tribe, which is well-known to white
"still-hunters."

They are, in their own country, not very communicative to
strangers; and above all, never disclose practices so peculiarly
7 ■ ■•■

146

A DAY ON TUB LAKB.

If
',

reserved for their own service or defence. I was amazed at thefr
slcill in this branch of Indian accomplishment.

But the notes of the dear little chick-a-deedee charmed me the
most. The stillnese of this wild, sequestered place, was most agree-
ably diversified by all these fictitious birds and beasts, that seemed
inviting, each his own kind, to come and look at this lovely scene.
From the wonderful control they appeared to have over their
voices, I knew that one, or both of them must sing. I therefore
asked them if they knew the Canadian-boat song; and they
answered, with great delight, that they did. And suiting the
action to the word, which, by the bye, adds marvellously to its
effect, they sung it charmingly. I couldn't resist their entreaties to
join in it, although I would infinitely have preferred listening to
taking a part. When we concluded it, Jessie said it was much
prettier in her nativa tongue, and sung a verse in her own lah
guage. She said the governor of the fort, who spoke Indian, as
well as English, had arranged the words for it, and when she was
a child in his family, she learned it. ' Listen," said she, " what ia
that?" '

It was Jackson playing on the key-bugle. Oh, how gloriously
it sounded, as its notes fell on the ear, mellowed and softened by
the distance. When Englishmen talk of the hunters' horn in the
morning, they don't know what they are a saying of It's well
enough I do suppose in the field, as it wakes the drowsy sports-
man, and reminds him that there is a hard day's ride before nim.
But the lake and the forest is nature's amphitheatre, and it is at
home there. It won't speak as it can do at all times and in all
places; but it gives its whole soul out in the woods; and the
echoes love it, and the mountains wave their plumes of pines to it
as if they wanted to be wooed by its clear, sweet, powerful notes.*
All nature listens to it, and keeps silence, while it lifts its voice on
high. The breeze wafts its music on its wings, as if proud of its
trust ; and the lake lies still, and pants like a thing of life, as if its
heart beat to its tones. The birds are all hushed, as if afraid to
disturb it ; and the deer pause, and listen, and gaze on the skies,
as if the music came from Heaven. Money only can move some
men, and a white heat alone dissolve stones. Bnt he who has ever
heard the bugle, and is not inspired by it, has no divinity within
him. The body is there, but the soul is wanting.

* This inflated passage, and some other similar ones, are extremely charac-
teristic of Americans in the same station of life as Slick. From the use of
superlative expressions in their conversation, they naturally adopt an exagge-
rative style in writing, and the minor poets and provincial orators of the Repub-
lic are distinguished for this hyperbolical tone. In Great Britain they would
be admired by the Irish ; on the Continent, by the Gascons. If Mr. Slick were
not affected by this weakness himself, he would be among the first to detect
and ridicule it in others.

A DAY ON THE LAKE.

147

}d at theh"

ed me the
lost agree-
lat seemed
vely scene,
over their
I therefore

and they
suiting the
msly to its
atreaties to
istening to
, was much
er own Ian

Indian, as
len she was
3, " what IS

T gloriously
joftened by
horn in the
f: It's well
wsy sports-
before nim.
and it is at
and in all
s; and the
pines to it,
rful notes.*
its voice on
)roud of its
ife, as if its
if afraid to
>n the skies,
move some
lo has ever
inity within

■emely charac-
)m the use of
pt an exagge-
of the Repub-
n Ihey would
lix. Slick were
first to detect

" Go on, Jackson, I will forgive your twaddle about Sargent
M'Clure, the stroke of the sun, the trooper's helmet, and the night
among the wolves. I will listen to your old soldier's stories all
night, only go on, and play for me. Give me that simple air
again. Let me drink it in with my e?^ , till my heart is full. No
grace notes, no tricks of the band-master's, no flourishes ; let it be
simple and natural. Let it suit us, and the place we are in, for it
is the-voice of our common parent, nature." Ah, he didn't hear

me, and he ceased.

" Jessie, dear, ain't that beautiful 1 " said I.

" Oh," she said, (and she clasped her hands hard,) " it is like the
sound of a spirit speaking fVom above."

" Imitate it," said I.

She knew the air, it was a Scotch one ; and their music is the
most touching, because the most simple, I know.

Squire, you will think I am getting spooney, but I ain't. You
know how fond I am of nature, and always was ; but I suppose you
will think if I ain't talking Turkey, that I am getting crankey, when
I tell you an idea that came into my mind just then. She imitated
it in the most perfect manner possible. Her clear, sweet, mellow,
but powerful notes, never charmed me so before. I thought it
sounded like a maiden, answering her lover. One was a masculine,
the other a female voice. The only difference was in the force, but
softness was common to both. Can I ever forget the enchantment
of that day %

" Dear Jessie," said I, " you and your friend are just formed for
each other. How happy you could make him."

" Who V said she, and there was no affectation in the question.
She knew not the import of that word. *' What do you mean 1 "

" Hush," said I, " I will tell you by and bye. Old Tom is play-
ing again."

It was " Auld Lang Syne." How touching it was. It brought
tears to Jessie's eyes. She had learned it, when a child, far, far
away ; and it recalled her tribe, her childhood, her country, and
her mother. I could see these thoughts throw their shadows over
her face, as light clouds chase each other before the sun, and throw
their veil, as they course along the sky, over the glowing landscape.
It made me feel sad, too ; for how many of them, with whom my
early years were spent, have passed away. Of all the fruit born
by the tree of life, how small a portion drops from it, when fully
I'ipe, and in the due course of nature. The worm, and premature
decay, are continually thinning them; and the tempest and the
blight destroy the greater part of those that are left. Poor dear
worthy old minister, you, too, are gone, but not forgotten. How
could I have had these thoughts? How could I have enjoyed
these scenes? and how described them? but for you! Innocent,

A DAT ON THE LAKE.

li:

pure, and simple-minded man, how fond you were of nature, the
handy-worlc of God, as you used to call it. How full you were of

Foetry, beauty, and sublimity ? And what do I not owe to you 1
am not ashamed of having been a clock-maker, I am proud of it.*^
But I should, indeed, have been ashamed, with your instruction,
always to have remained one. Yes, yes !

" Why should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind 1 "

Why ? indeed.

" Tam it," said Peter, for we were so absorbed in listening to
the music, we did not hear the approach of the boat, " ta ting is
very coot but it don't stir up te blood, and make you feel like a
man, as ta pipes do ? Did she ever hear barris an tailUr / Fan
she has done with her brass cow horn, she will give it to you. It
can wake the tead that air. When she was a piper boy to the
fort. Captain Fraisher was killed by the fall of a tree, knocked as
stiff as a gunparrel, and as silent too. We laid her out on the
counter in one of the stores, and before we put her into the coffin,
the governor said : * Peter,' said he, * she was always fond of harris
an tailler, play it before we nail her up, come seid auas^ (strike up.)'

" Well, she gets the pipes and plays it hernainsel, and the gover-
nor forgot his tears, and seized McPhee by the hand, and they
danced ; they couldn't help it when that air was played, and what
do you think? It prought Captain Fraisher to life. First she
opened her eyes, and ten her mouth again wunst more. She did
upon my shoul."

" Says she, ' Peter, play it faster will you 1 More faster yet, you
blackguard.' And she tropt the pipes and ran away, and it was
the first and last time Peter McDonald ever turned his pack on a
friend. The doctor said it was a trance, but he was a sassanach and
knew nothing about music ; but it was the pipes prought the tead
to. This is the air," and he played it with such vigor he nearly
grew black in the face.

" I believe it," says I, " it has brought me to, also. It has made
me a new man, and brought me back to life again. Let us land
the moose."

" Ted," said Peter ; " she is worth two ted men yet. There is
only two teaths. Ted as te tevil, and ted drunk, and she aint
neither ; and if she were poth she would wake her up with tat
tune, barris an tailUr^ as she tid Captain Fraisher^ tat she will."

" Now," said I, " let 'us land the moose."

* This is ^tie passage to which Mr- Slick referred in the ^oavejrimtioa I had
with biffii related io Chapter I., entitled, " A Suxprifw."

are, the
were of
to you?
id of it *
traction,

bening to
a ting is
el like a
r/ Fan
you. It
►y to the
ocked as
it on the
;he coffin,
of barris
rike up.)'
he gover-
and they
md what
First she
She did

p yet, you
id it was
ack on a
Etnach and
the tead
le nearly

has made
b us land

There is
she aint
with tat

wiU."

latioa I bad

A DAT ON TBS LAKE.

149

CHAPTER XI.
A DAY ON THE LAKE, PART 11. >

Pstbr's horrid pipes knocked all the romance out of me. It took
all the talk of dear old Minister, (whose conversation was often like
poetry without rhyme,) till I was of age, to instil it into me. If it
hadn't been for him I should have been a mere practical man,
exactly like our Connecticut folks, who have as much sentiment in
them, in a general way, as an onion has of otter of roses. It's
lucky when it don't predominate, though, for when it does, it spoils
the relish for the real business of life.

Mother, when I was a boy, used to coax me up so everlastingly
with loaf-cake, I declare I got such a sweet tooth I could hardly eat
plain bread made of flour and corn meal, although it was the whole-
somest of the two. When I used to tell Minister this sometimes,
as he was flying off the handle, like when we travelled through
New York state to Niagara, at the scenery of the Hudson, or Lake
George, or that everlpstin water-fall, he'd say :

" Sam, you are as correct as a problem in Euclid, but as cold
and dry. Business and romance are like oil and water that I use
for a night-lamp, with a little cork dipsey. They oughtn't to be
mixed, but each to be separate, or they spoil each other. The tum-
bler should be nearly full of water, then pour a little oil on the
top, and put in your tiny wick and floater, and ignite it. The
water goes to the bottom — ^that's business you see, solid and
heavy. The oil and its burner lies on the top, and that's romance.
It's a living flame, not enough to illuminate the room, but to cheer
you through the night, and if you want more, it will light stronger
ones for you. People have a wrong idea of romance, Sam. Pro-
perly understood, it's a right keen, lively appreciation of the works
of nature, and its beauty, wonders, and sublimity. From thence
we learn to fear, to serve, and to adore Him that made them and
us. Now, Sam, you understand all the wheels, and pullies, and
balances of your wooden clocks ; but you don't think anything
more of them, than it's a grand speculation for you, because they
cost you a mere nothing, seeing they are made out of that which
is as cheap as dirt here, and because you make a great profit out
of them among the benighted colonists, who know little themselves,
and are governed by English officials, who know still less. Well,
that's nateral, for it is a business view of things.^ Now sposen

* It in manifest Mr. Hopewell must have had Pali's illustration in his mind.

150

A DAT ON THE LAKB

•S i

you lived in the Far West woods, away fi'om great cities, and never
saw a watch or a wooden clock before, and fust sot your eyes on
one of them that was as true as the sun, wouldn't you break out
into enthusiasm about it, and then extol to the skies the skill and
knowledge of the Yankee man that invented and made it ? To be
sure you would. Wouldn't it carry you off into contemplatin' of
the planet whose daily course and speed it measures so exact 1
Wouldn't you go on from that point and ask yourself what must
be the wisdom and power of Him who made innumerable worlds,
and caused them to form part of a great, grand, magnificent, and
harmonious system, and fly off the handle, as you call it, in admi-
ration, and awe ? To be sure you would. And if anybody said
you was full of romance M'ho heard you, wouldn't you have pitied
his ignorance, and said there are other enjoyments we are capable
of besides corporeal ones ? Wouldn't you be a wiser and a better
man ? Don't you go now for to run down romance, Sam ; if you
do, I shall think you don't know there is a divinity within you,**
and so he would preach on for an hour, till J thought it was time
for him to say Amen, and give the dismissal benediction.

Well, that's the way I came by it, I was inoculated for it, but I
was always a hard subject to inoculate. Vaccination was tried on
me over and over again by the doctor, before I took it, but at last
it came, and got into the system. So it was with him and his
romance, it was only the continual dropping that wore the stone at
last, for I didn't listen as I ought to have done. If he had showed
me where I could have made a dollar, he would have found me
wide awake, I know, for I set out in life with a determination to go
ahead, and I have ; and now I am well to do, but still I wish I had
a minded more what he did say, for poor old soul, he is dead now.
An opportunity lost, is like missing a passage, another chance may
never offer to make the voyage worth while. The first wind may
carry you to the end. A good start often wins the race. To miss
your chance of a shot, is to lose the bird.

How true these " saws" of his are ; but I don't recollect half of
them, I am ashamed to say. Yes, it took me a long time to get
romance in my sails, and Peter shook it out of them, by one shiver
in the wind. So we went to work. The moose was left on shore,
for the Doctor said he had another destination for him than the
water-fall. Betty, Jackson, and Peter were embarked with their
baskets and utensils in the boats and directed to prepare our din-
ner.

As soon as they were fairly off, we strolled leisurely back to the
house, which I had hardly time to examine before. It was an
irregular building, made of hewn logs, and appeared to ha^ye been
enlarged, from time to time, as more accommodation had been
required. There was neither uniformity nor design in it, and it

A DAT ON THE LAKE.

151

id never
eyes on
•eiik out
ikill and
To be
latin' of
) exact*?
lat must
3 worlds,
cent, and
in admi-
)ody said
ive pitied
e capable
I a better
1 ; if you
iin you,'*
was time

it, but I
i tried on
lut at last
1 and his
e stone at
id showed
found me
,tion to go
vish 1 had
lead now.
lance may
wind may
To miss

ct half of
me to get
one shiver
on shore,

than the
with their

our din-

ack to the
It was an
have been
had been
it, and it

•i

might rather be called a small cluster of little tenements than a
house. Two of these structures alone, seemed to correspond in
appearance and size. They protruded in front, from each end of
thu main building, forming with it three sides of a square. One
of these was appropriated to the purposes of a museum, and the
other used as a workshop. The former contained an exceedingly
interesting collection.

" This room," he said, " I cannot intrust to Jackson, who would
soon throw everything into confusion by grouping, instead of
classifying things. This country is full of most valuable minerals,
and the people know as much about them, as a pudding does of
the plums contained in it. Observe this shelf, Sir, there are
specimens of seven different kinds of copper on it ; and on this
one fragments of four kinds of lead. In the argentiferous galena
is a very considerable proportion of silver. Here is a piece of a
mineral called moly bdena of singular beauty, I found it at Gaberous
Bay, in Cape Breton. The iron ores you see are of great variety.
The coal-fields of this colony are immense in extent, and incal-
culable in value. All this case is filled with their several varieties.
These precious stones are from the Bay of Funday. Among them
are amethyst and other varieties of crystal, of quartz, henlandite,
stibite, analcine, chabasie, albite, mesotype, silicious sinter, and so
on. Pray do me the favor to accept this amethyst. I have several
others of equal size and beauty, and it is of no use to me."

He also presented Cutler with a splendid piece of nesotype or
needle stone, which he begged him to keep as a memento of the
" Bachelor Beaver's Dan*."

" Three things, Mr. Slick," he continued, " are necessary to the
development of the mineral wealth of this province — skill, capital,
and population ; and depend upon it the day is not far distant
when this magnificent colony will support the largest population,
for its area, in America."

I am not a mineralogist myself. Squire, and much of what he
said was heathen Greek to me, but some general things I could
understand, and remember such as that there are (to say nothing
of smaller ones) four immense independent coal-fields in the
eastern section of Nova Scotia: namely at Picton, Pomquet,
Cumberland, and Londonderry ; the first of which covers an area
of one hundred square miles, and that there are also at Cape
Breton two other enormous fields of the same mineral, one cover-
ing one hundred and twenty square miles, and presenting at Lingan
a vein eleven feet thick. Such facts I could comprehend, and I
was sorry when I heard the bugle aimouncing that the boat had
returned for us.

"Jessie," said the Doctor, "here is a little case containing a
curiously fashioned and exquisitely worked ring, and a large gold

152

A I>AT ON TBE LAKE.

tm ■:

' fr ^' ''ill 1

li:

||t* ; 11

cross and chain, that I found while searching among the ruins of
the nunnery at Lowisburg.. I have no doubt they belonged to the
superior of the convent. These baiibles answered her purpose by
withdrawing the eyes of the profane from her care worn and cold
features ; they will serve mine also, by sbowkig how little you
require the aid of art, to adorn a person nature has made so
lovely."

« Hallo !"sais I to myself, "well done, Doctor, if that don't
beat cock-fighting, then there ain't no snakes in Varginny, I vow.
Oh ! yoii ain't so soft as you look to be after all j you may be a
child of nature, but that has its own secrets^, and iJTyou haint found
out it's mysteries it's a pity."

" They have neither suffered," he continued, " from the corrosion
of time nor the asceticism of a devoiee, who vainly thought she
was serving God by voluntarily withdrawing from a world into
which he himself had sent her, and by foregoing duties which he
had expressly ordained she should fulnl. Don't start at the sight
of the cross ; it is the embleria of Christianity, and not of a sect, who
claim it exclusively, as if He Who sufiered on it, died for them
only. This one has hitherto been used in the negation of all
human affections, may it shed a blessing on the exercise of yours."

I could hardly belieVe my ears ; 1 didn't expect this of him. I
knew he was romantic, and all that ; but I did not think there was
such a depth and strength of feeling in him.

" I wish," 1 said, *' Jehu Judd could a heard you, Doctor, he
would have seen the difference between the clear grit of the genuine
thing, and a counterfeit, that might have made him open his eyes
and wink."

"Oh! Slick," said he, "come now, that's a good fellow, don't
make me laugh, or I shall upset these glass cases ;" and be^re
Jessie could either accept or decline this act of gallantry, he
managed to lead the way to the lake. The girls and I embarked
in the canoe, and the rest of the party, in the boat, but before I
stepped into the bark, I hid the pipes of Peter behind the body of
the moose, very much to the amusement of Jessie and the Doctor,
who both seemed to agree with me in giving a preference to the
bugle.

I never saw so lovely a spot in this country as the one we had
chosen for our repast, but it was not my intention to land until
the preparations for our meal were all fully completed ; so as soon
as Jane leaped ashore, I took her place and asked Jessie to take
another look at the lake with me. Desiring Jackson to recal us
with his bugle when required, we coasted up the west side of the
lake for about half-a-mile, to a place where I had observed two
enormous birches bend over the water into which they were
ultimately doomed to fall, as the current had washed away the

II Hi'

A DAT ON THE LAKE.

153

ruins of
ed to the
rpose by
and cold
ittle you
mftde so>

bat don't
y, I vow,
may be a
unt found

corrosion
ought she
orld into

-which he
t the sight
t sect, who

for them
ion of all
of yours."
)fhim. I

there was

doctor, he
he genuine
)n his eyes

low, don't
and before
antry, he
embarked
it before 1
e body of
ie Doctor,
nee to the

me we had
land until
so as soon
sie to take
to recal us
side of the
erved two
they were
away tb«

land where they stood, so as to leave them only a temporary
resting place. Into this arched and quiet retreat we impelled our
canoe, and paused for a while to enjoy its cool and refreshing
shade.

" Jessie,'* said I, " this time to-morrow I shall be on the sea
agam."

"So soon?'* she replied.

" Yes, dear ; business calls us away, and life is not all like a day
on the lake."

" No, no," she said, " not to me ; it is the only really happy
one I have spent since I left my country. You have all been so
kind to me ; you, the Captain, and the Doctor, all of you, you
have made no difference, you have treated me as if I was one of
you, as if I was born a lady."

" Hasn't the Doctor always been kind to you V* I said.

" Oh yes," she replied, " always very kind, but there is nobody
here like him."

"He loves you very much."

" Yes," she said, in the most unembarrassed and natural manner
possible, " he told me so himself."

" And can't you return his love ?"

" I do love him as I do my father, brother, or sister.'*

" Couldn't you add the word husband *?"

" Never, never," she said, " Mr. Slick. He thinks he loves me
now, but he may not think so always. He don't see the red blood
now — he don't think of my Indian mother ; when he comes nearer,
perhaps he will see plainer. No, no, half-cast and out-cast, I be-
long to no race. Shall I go back to my tribe and give up my
father and his people ? they will not receive me, and I must fall
asleep with my mother. Shall I stay here and cling to him and
his race — that race that scorns the half-savage ? — never ! never !
when he dies, I shall die too. I shall have no home then but the
home of the spirits of the dead."

"Don't talk that way, Jessie," I said; "you make yourself
wretched, because you don't see things as they are. It's your own
fault if you are not happy. You say you have enjoyed this day."

" Oh, yes," she said, " no day like this ; it never came before, it
don't return again. It dies to-night, but will never be forgotten."

"Why not, live where you are? Why not have your home
here by this lake, and this mountain ? His tastes are like yours,
and yours like his ; you can live two lives here — the forest of the
red man around you — the roof of the white one above you. To
unite both is true enjoyment ; there is no eye to stare here, no
pride to exclude, no tongue to offend. You need not seek the
society of others, let them solicit yours, and the Doctor will make
them respect it'*
7*

ami

164

▲ DAY ON THE LAKE.

15^ ill

It was a iubject on which her mind appeared to have been made
up. She seemed like a woman that has lost a child, who hears
your advice, and feels there is some truth in it, but the consolation
reaches not her heart.

^' It can't be," she said, with a melancholy smile, as if she was
resignint something that was dear to her ; " God or nature forbids
it. If tnere is one God for both Indian and white man, he forbids
it. If there are two great spirits, one for each, as my mother told
me, then both forbid it. The great spirit of the pale face," she
continued, '' is a wicked one, and the white man is wicked.
Wherever he goes, he brings death and destruction. The woods
recede before him— the wild fowl leave the shores— the fish desert
their streams — the red man disappears. He calls his deer and his
beaver, and his game, (for they are all his, and were given to him
for food and for clothing,) and travels far, far away, and leaves the
graves and the bones of his people behind him. But the white
man pursues him, day and night, with his gun and his axe and fire-
water, and what he spares with the rifie, rum, despair, and starva-
tion destroy. See," she said, and she plucked a withered red cone
from a shumack that wept over the water ; " see, that is dyed with
the blood of the red man."

" That is prejudice," I said.

" No, it is the truth," she replied. " I know it. My people
have removed twice, if not three times, and the next move will be
to the sea or the grave."

'*It is the effect of civilization, and arts, and the power of
sciences and learning over untutored nature," I said.

" If learning makes men wicked, it is a bad thing," she observed ;
" for the devil instructs men how to destroy. But rum ain't learn-
ing, it is poison ; nor is sin civilization, nor are diseases blessings,
nor madness reason."

" That don't alter things," I said, " if it is all true that you say,
(and there is too much reality in it, I fear) ; but the pale faces are
not all bad, nor the red all good. It don't apply to your case."

" No," she said, " nature forbids the two races to mingle. That
that is wild, continues wild ; and the tame remains tame. The
dog watches his sleeping master ; and the wolf devours him. The
wild duck scorns confinement ; and the partridge dies if compelled
to dwell with domestic fowls. Look at those birds," she said, as
she threw a chip among a flock of geese that were floating down
the lake ) '* if the beautiful Indian wild bird consorts with one of
them, the progeny die out. They are mongrels ; they have not
the grace, the shape, or the courage of either. Their doom is fixed.
They soon disappear from the face of the earth and the waters.
They are despised by both breeds ;" and she shook her head as if

;'i

1. DAY ON THE LAKE

165

)en made
ho hears
insolation

f she was
re forbids
le forbids
>ther told
face," she
3 wicked.
?he woods
Ush desert
er and his
'en to him
leaves the
the white
5 and fire-
i,nd starva-
d red cone
dyed with

My people
)ve will be

power of

observed ;
ain't learn-
j blessings,

t you say,
le faces are
ir case."
igle. That
;ame. The
him. The
f compelled
ihe said, as
ating down
■with one of
y have not
om is fixed,
the waters.
ir head as if

she scorned and loathed herself, and burst into a passionate flood
of tears.

" Jessie," said I, and I paused a moment, for I wanted to give
her a homoeopalhic dose of common sense — and those little wee
doses work like charms, that's a fact. "Jessie," sais I, and I
smiled, for I wanted her to shake off those voluntary trammels, —
"Jessie, the Doctor aint quite tame, and you aint quite wild.
You are both six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other, and just
about as like as two peas."

Well, it's astonishing what that little sentence did ! An ounce
of essence is worth a (gallon of /luicL A wise saw is more valttable
than a whole book, and a plain truth is better than an argument.
She had no answer for that. She had been reasoning without
knowing it, as if in fact she had been in reality an Indian, She
had imbibed in childhood the feelings of her mother, who had
taken the first step and rep<inted it— of one who had descried but
had not been adopted — whc became an exile and remained an alien
— who had bartered her birthright for degradation and death. It
is natural that regret for the past, and despair for the future,
should hav€ been the burden o<^ the mournful ditties of such a
woman ; that i he bo had mated without love, and lived without
affection, the sla^ ,. j drudge, but not the wife or companion of
her master, shoui ' i.c with imprecations on her lips for a race who
were the natural foes of her people, and who had reduced her to
be an object of scorn and contempt to both. It is no wonder,
therefore, poor Je .Je had a repugnance to the union, when she
remembered her mother, and the sad lesson her unhappy life and
fearful death contained. It was a feeling difficult to overcome.

" Jessie," sais I, " nature, instead of forbiddin' it, approves of it ;
for like takes to like. I don't say it to please you, but you are as
good as he is, or any white man in the world. Your forefathers,
on your mother's side, are a brave, manly, intelligent race ; the/
are free men, and have never been subdued or enslaved by any
one ; and if they have degenerated at all, it is because they have
contracted, as you say, vices from the white man. You have
reason to be proud of being descended from a race of warriors.
On the other hand, your father is a Highlander, and they too have
always been free, because they were brave ; they are the noblest
fellows in Europe. As for the English, there are none now, except
in Wales, and they are called Taffies — which means lunatics— ior
they are awful proud, and their mountains are so high, every fellow
says his ancestors were descended from the man in the moon. But
the present race are a mixture of Taffies, French, Danes, Saxons,
Scotch, and the Lord knows who all, and to my mind are all the
better of it."

" But the color," said she.

156

n
''?

A DAT ON THB LASE«

** As to color!" said I, "nations differ in every shade, from Mack
up to chalk-white. The Portuguese, Italians, and Turks, are darker
than the Indian, if anything — Spaniards and Greeks about the
same."

" And do they intermarry ?"

" I guess they do !" said I ; " the difference of language only
stops them — for it's hard to make love when you can't understand
each other — but color never."

" Is that now really true ?" she said ; " £)r I am ignorant of the
world."

" True as preachin," said I, ** and as plain as poverty."

She paused awhile, and said slowly :

" Well, I suppose if all the world says and does differently, i
must be wrong, for I am unacquainted with everything, but my
own feelings ; and my mother taught me this, and bade me never
to trust a white man, I am glad I was wrong, for if I feel I am
right, I am sure I shall be happy."

" Well," sais I, " I am sure you will be so, and this is just the
place, above all others in the world, that will suit you, and make
vou so. Now," sais I, "Jessie, I will tell you a story," and I told
her the whole tale of Pocahontas ; how she saved Captain. Smith's
life in the early settlement of Virginia, and afterwards married
Mr. Rolfe, and visited the court of England, ^here all the nobles
sought her society. And then I gave her all the particulars of her
life, illness, and death, and informed her that her son, who stood in
the same relationship to the whites as she did, became a wealthy
planter in Virginia, and that one of his descendants lately deceased,
was one of the most eloquent as well as one of the most distin-
guished men in the United States. It interested her uncommonly,
and I have no doubt greatly contributed to confirm her in the
decision she had come to. I will not trouble you, Squire, with the
story, for it is so romantic, I believe everybody has heard of it. i
promised to give her a book containing all the details.

The bugle now sounded our recall, and in a few minutes we were
seated on the grass, and enjoying our meal with an appetite that
exercise, excitement, and forest air never fail to give. Songs,
trout-fishing, and stories agreeably occupied the afternoon ; and
when the sun began to east long shadows from the mountain, we
re-embarked with our traps, and landed at the cove, near the clump
of trees, where we started in the morning. While prepai*ations
were making for tea in the house, I lit my cigar to take a stroll
with Cutler, and talk over our arrangements for an early start in
the morrow, and proceeding immediately to sea. In the meantime
I briefly stated to the Doctor that he would now find no further
obstacle to his wishes, and counselled him to lose no time,* while

A DAT ON TBS LAKE.

167

am l)!ack
re darker
bout the

age only
iderstand

mt of the

erently, I
, but my
ine never
feel I am

jiist the

md make

md I told

1. Smith's

I married

be nobles

ars of her

> stood ill

•wealthy

eceased,

St distin-

tmmonly,

er in the

with the

of it. I

we were
itite that

Songs,
yon ; and
itain, we
16 clump
parations
a stroll
start in
aeantime

further
fie,* while

tlie impression was favorable, to bring his long-pending negotiation
to a conclusion.

" Slick," said he, laughing, " your government ought to have
prevailed upon you to remain in the diplomatic service. You are
Buch a capital negotiator."

" Well," said J, "I believe I would have succeeded in that line ;
but do you know how f

"By a plentiful use of soft sawder," said he.

" No, Doctor, I knew you would say that ; and it aint to be
despised neither, I can tell you. No, it's because you go coolly to
work, for you are negotiatin' for another. If you don't succeed,
it's the fault of the mission, of course, and defeat won't break your
heart ; if you do carry your point, why, in the natur of things, it
is all your own skill. I have done famously for you ; but I made
a bungling piece of business for myself, I assure you. What my
brother, the lawyer, used to say, is very true : * A man who pleads
his own cause has a fool for his client.' You can't praise yourself,
unless it's a bit of brag, and that I can do as well as any one, I do
suppose ; but you can't lay the whitewash on handily no more than
you can brush the back of your own coat when it is oa. Cutler
and I will take a stroll, and do you invite Jessie out, :.o see the
moon on the lake."

In about an hour, Peter, who had found his pipes, to his infinite
delight, intimated supper was ready ; and the dispersed groups
returned, and sat down to a meal Which, in addition to the tea and
coffee, and its rsual accompaniments at country-houses, had some
substantial viands for those, like myself, who had done more talk-
ing than eating at dinner. In a short time, the girls retired for
the night, and we arranged for a peep of day return.

" Mr. Slick," said the Doctor, " I have ordered the boy to take
the moose down to the village, as my share of the sea stores. Will
you give me leave to go a part of the cruise with you !"

" With great pleasure," said I ; " it's just what I was going to
ask the favor of you to do. It's the very identical thing."

" Come, Peter," said he, " I will show you where to turn in ;"
and returning, in a few minutes, with Jackson, desired him to attend
the Captain.

When we were alone, he said :

" Come this way, Mr. Slick. Put your hat on — I Want you to
take a turn with me."

And leading me down to the verge of the woods, where I saw a
light, we entered a large bark wigwam, where he said he often slept
during the hot weather. **-

It Was not made in the usual conical form, buti'esembled a square
tent, which, among Indians, generally indicates there is a large
family, and that they propose to occupy tiiie same spot for some

'^ -i ■

168

THE BETSOTHAL.

time. In fact, it was half wigwam, half summer-house, resembling
the former in appearance, construction, and material ; but was
floored on account of the damp ground, and contained a small table,
two chairs, and a couple of rustic seats, large enough to sleep
upon, which, on the present occasion, had hunters' beds on them.
The tent, or more properly camp, as it is generally called here, was
so contrived as to admit of the door being shifted according to the
wind. On the present occasion, the opening was towards the lake,
on which the moon was casting its silver light. -« ^

Here we sat till a late hour, discoursing, over our cigars, on a
variety of subjects, the first and last of which topic was Jessie,
who had, it appeared, at last accepted the Bachelor- Beaver. Alto-
gether, it was a charming visit ; and left a most agreeable recolleo-
of the enjoyment that is to be found in " a day and a night in the
the woods."

CHAPTER XII.

THE BETROTHAL.

Early the following morning, just as the first dawn of day was
streaking the eastern sky Jackson's bugle sounded the reveille, and
we were all soon on foot and in motion. The moose was lifted into
the cart, and the boy dispatched with it to the harbor, so as to have
it in readiness for putting on board as soon as we should arrive,
and a cup of coffee was prepared for us by Betty, as she said, to
keep the cold out of our stomach while travelling. The Doctor
had some few arrangements to make for his voyage, and Cutler and
I set out in advance, on foot. It was agreed that Ovey, Peter, and
his daughters, should follow, as soon as possible, in the waggons,
and breakfast with us on board of the Black Hawk.

" Mr. Jackson," said I, as I saw him standing at the door.

" Yes, Sir," and he was at my side in a minute, and honored me
with one of his most gracious. smiles, and respectful military salutes.

There is great magic in that word Mr., when used to men of low
degree, and in " Squire" for those just a notch higher. Servitude,
at best, is but a hard lot. To surrender your will to another, to
come and go at his bidding, and to answer a bell as a dog does a
whistle, aint just the lot one would choose, if a better one offered.
A mastlli^ may forget this, a servant never does. The great art, as
well as one of the great Christian duties, therefore, is not to make
him feel it. Bidding is one thing, and commanding is another. If
you put him on good teims with himself he is on good terms with

THB BBTBOTHAL.

159

semUing
but was
all table,
to sleep
>n. them,
liere, was
ig to the
the lake,

ars, on a
bs Jessie,
r. Alto-
j recoUeo-
ht in the

f day was

veille, and

lifted into

as to have

lid arrive,

le said, to

le Doctor

utler and

•eter, and

waggons,

or.

mored me
ry salutes,
[len of low
Servitude,
nother, to
og does a
le offered,
eat art, as
to make
other. If
«rins with

;

you, and affection is a stronger tie than duty. The vanity of man-
kind is such, that you always have the ingratitude of helps dinned
into your ears, from one year's end to another, and yet these folk
never heard of the ingratitude of employers, and wouldn't believe
there was such a thing in the world, if you were to tell them. Un-
grateful, eh ! Why, didn't I pay him his wages 1 wasn't he well
boarded? and didn't I now and then let him go to a frolic ? Yes,
he wouldn't have worked without pay. He couldn't have lived if
he hadn't been fed, and he wouldn't have staid if you hadn't given him
recreation now and then. It's a poor heart that don't rejoice sone-
times. So much thanks he owes you. Do you pray that it may
always rain at night or on Suni' s . >o you think the Ltv^ ' is
the Lord of masters only ? Bui he \i^ been faithful, as well as
diligent, and careful as well as laborious, he has saved you more
than his wages came to— are there no thanks for this 1 Pooh ! you
remind me of my poor old mother. Father used to say she was
the most unreasonable woman in the world — for when she hired a
gall, she expected perfection, for two dollars and a half a month.

Mr. Jackson ! didn't that make him feel good all over 1 Why
shouldn't he be called Mr., as well as that selfish conceited McClure,
Captain ? " Yes," there is a great charm in that are word, Mr. It
was a wrinkle I picked up by accident, very early in life. We had
to our farm to Slickville, an Irish servant, called Paddy Monahan
— as hard-working a critter as ever I see. but none of the boys
could get him to do a blessed thing for them. He'd do his plowin'
or reapin, or whatever it was, but the deuce a bit would he leave it
to oblige Sally or the boys, or any one else, but father ; he had to
mind him, in course, or put his three great coats on, the way he
came, one atop of the other, to cover the holes of the inner ones,
and walk. But, as for me, he'd do any thin I wanted. He'd drop
his spade, and help me catch a horse, or he'd do my chores for me,
and let me go and attend my mink and musquash traps, or he'd
throw down his hoe and go and fetch the cows from pasture, that I
might slick up for a party — in short he'd do anything in the world
for me.

" Well, they all wondered how under the sun Paddy had taken
such a shindy to me, when nobody else could get him to "budge an
inch for them. At last, one day, mother asked me how on airth it
was — for nothin strange goes on long, but a woman likes to get at
the bottom of it.

" Well," sais I, " mother, if you won't whisper a syllable to any-
body about it, I'll tell you."

" Who, me," sais, she " Sammy ?" She always called me Sammy
when she wanted to come over me. " Me tell 1 A person who
«an keep her own secrets, can keep yours, Sammy. Tliere ar^
some thinffs I never told your father."

it, ,-ii

"?f

■I

160

THB BETBOTHAL.

" Such OS what," sais 1 1

**A-hem," said she. "A-hem — such as he oughtn't to know,
dear. Why, Sam I am as secret as the grave ! How is it, dear 1"

" Well," sais I, " I will tell you. This is the way : I drop Pat
and Paddy altogether, and I call him Mr. Monaghan, and never say
a word about the priest."

" Why, Sammy," said she, " where in the world did you pick up
all your cuteness. I do declare you are as sharp a;? a needle.
Well, I never. How you do take after me! boys are mothir^a
sons. If 8 only the galls who take afier their father ^^

It's cheap coin, is civility, and kindness is a nice biailk to fund it
in, Squire : for it comes back with compound interest. He used
to call Josiah, Jo, and brother Eldad, Dad, and then yoke 'em both
together, as " spalpeens," or rapscallions," and he'd vex them by-
calling mother, when he spoke to them of her, the " ould woman, *
and Sally, " that young cratur, Sal'.' But he'd show the difference
when he mentioned me ; it was always " the young master," and
when I was with him, it was " your honor."

Lord, I shall never forget wunst, when I was a practisin of ball-
shooting at a target, Pat brought out one of my muskits, and, sais
he : " Would your honor just let me take a crack at it. You only
make a little round hole in it, ^bout the size of a fly's eye ; but, by
the piper that played before Moses, I'll knock it all to smithereens."

"Yes," sais I, "Mr. Monaghan ; fire and welcome."

Well, up he comes to the toe-line, and puts himself into attitude,
scientific like. First he throws his left leg out, and then braces
back the right one well behind him, and then he shuts his left eye
to, and makes an awful wry face, as if he was determined to keep
every bit of light out of it, and then he brought his gun up to the
shoulder with a deuce of a flourish, and took a long, steady aim.
All at once he lowered the piece.

" I think I'll do it better knalin, your honor," said he, " the way
I did when I fired at Lord Blarney's land-agent, from behind the
hedge, fbr lettin a farm to a Belfast heretic. Oh ! didn't I riddle
him, your honor." He paused a moment, his tongue had run away
with him. " His coat, I maih," said he. " I cut the skirts off as
nait as a tailor could. It scared him entirely, so, when he see the
feathers flyin that way, he took to flight, and I never sot eyes on
him no more. I shouldn't wonder if he is runnin yet."

So he put down one knee on the ground, and adjusting himself
said, " I won't leave so much as a hair of that target, to tell where
it stood." He took a fresh aim, and fired, and away he went, heels
over head, the matter of three or four times, and the gun flew away
behind him, ever so far.

" Oh ! " sais he, " I am kilt entirely. I am a dead man, Master
Sam. By the holy poker, but niy lai^m is broke."

THB BETBOtHAL.

161

to know,
it, dear r
drop Pat
never say

[)u pick up

a needle.

e rmthtr^B

: to fund it
He used
e 'em both
K thfem by
d woman, *
e difFerenoe
taster," and

isin of ball-
bs, and, sais
You only
^e ; but, by
ttithereens."

ito attitude,
then braces
his left eye
led to keej^
m up to the
steady aim.

J, " the way
behind the
n't I riddle
,d run away
skirts off as
he see the
sot eyes on

ing himself

tell where

went, heels

n flew away

nan*} Madter

" I am afVaid my gun is broke," said I, and off I set in search
of it.

" Stop, yer honor," said he, " for the love of Heaven, stop, or
she'll be the death of you."

"What? "sais I.

" There are five more shots in her yet. Sir. I put in six cart-
ridges, iso as to make sure of that paper kite, and only one of them
is gone off yet. " Oh ! my shoulder is out, ikf aster Sam. Don't
say a word of it. Sir, to the ould cratur, and — ^"

"Towh6!"saidI.

" To her ladyship, the mistress," said he, " and I'll sarve you by
day and by night."

Poor Pat ! you were k good-hearted creattire naturally, as most
of your countrymen are, if repealers, patriots and demagogues of
all sorts and sizes, would only let you alone. Yes, there is a great
charm in that word " Mr."

So, sais I, " Mr. Jackson ! "

•' Yes, Sir," said he. " Let me look at your bugle."

" Here it is, your honor."

" What a curious lookin thing it is," sais I, " and what's all them
little button-like things on it with long shanks 1 "

" Keys, Sir," said he.

" Exactly," sais I, " they unlock the music, I suppose, don't they,
and let it out 1 Let me see if I could blc . it."

" Try the pipes, Mr. Slick," said Peter. " Tat is nothin but a
prass cowhorn as compared to the bagpipes."

" No thank you," sais I, " it's only a Highlander can make music
out of that."

" She never said a wiser word tan tat," he replied, much grati-
fied.

" Now," sais I, " let me blow this, does it take much wind 1 "

" No,'.' said Jackson, " not much, try it Sir."

Well, I put it to my lips, and played a well-known air on it.
"^It's not hard to play, after all, is it, Jackson ? "
' "No, Sir," said he, looking delighted, "nothing is hard to a
man as knows how, as you do."

" Tom," saia Betty, " dont't that do'ee good? Oh, Sir, I ain't
'eard that since I left the hold country, it's what the guards has
used to be played in the mail-coaches has Was. Oh, Sir, when
they corned to the town, it used to sound pretty ; many's the time
I have run to the window to listen to it. Oh, the coaches was a
pretty sight, Sir. But them times is all gone," and she wiped a
tear from her eye with the corner of her apron, — a tear that the
recollection of early days, had called up from the fountain of her
heart.

Oh, what a volume does one stray thought of the past contahi

W i

i I

ill.i l|

ill

HI ;

lea

THE BETROTHAL.

within Itself. It is lilte a rocket l;hrown up in the night. It sud-
denly expands into a brilliant light, and sheds a thousand sparkling
meteors, th»t scatter in all directions, as if inviting attention each
to its own t,rain. Yes, that one thought is the centre of many, and
awakens them all to painful sensibility. Perhaps it is more like a
vivid flash of lightning, it discloses with intense brightness the
whole landscape, and exhibits in their minutest form and outline,
the very leaves and flowers, that lie hid in the darkness of night.

" Jessie," said I, " will you imitate it? "

I stopt to gaze on her for a moment — she stood in the doorway —
a perfect model for a sculptor. But oh, w^hat chisel could do jus-
tice to that face — it was a study for a painter. Her whole soul
was tilled with those clear beautiful notes, that vibrated through
the frame, and attuned every nerve, till it was in harmony with it.
She was so wrapt in admiration, she didn't notice what I observed,
for I try in a general way that nothing shall escape me ; but as
they were behind us all, I just caught a glimpse of the Doctor (as
I turned my head suddenly) withdrawing his arm from her waist.
She didn't know it of course, she was so absorbed in the music. It
ain't likely she felt him, and if she had, it ain't probable she would
have objected to it. It was natural he should like to press the
heart she had given him ; wasn't it now his ? and wasn't it reason-
able he should like to know how it beat ? He was a doctor, and
doctors like to feel pulses, it comes sorter habitual to them, they
can't help it. They touch your wrist without knowing it, and if it
is a woman's, why their hand like brother Josiah's cases that went
on all fours, crawls up on its fingers, till it gets to where the best
pulse of all is. Ah, Doctor, there is Highland blood in that heart,
and it will beat warmly towards you, I know. I wonder what
Peter would have said, if he had seen what 1 did. But then he
didn't know nothin' about pulses.

" Jessie," said I, " imitate that for me, dear. It is the last exer-
cise of that extraordinary power I shall ever hear."

" Play it again," she said, " that I may catch the air."

" Is it possible," said I to myself, " you didn't hear it afler all^
It is the first time your little heart was ever pressed before, per-
haps it beat so loud you couldn't distinguish the bugle notes. Was
it the new emotion or the new music that absorbed you so ? Oh
Jessie, don't ask me again what natur' is."

Well, I played it again for her, and instantly she gave the repe
tition with a clearness, sweetness, and accuracy, that was perfectly
amazing. Cutler and I then took leave for the present, and pro-
ceeded on our way to the shore.

" Ah, Sir ! " said Jackson, who accompanied us to the bars, " it's
a long while ago since I eard that hair. Warn't them mail-coaches
pretty things, Sir ? Hon the hold King's birthday, Sir, when they

THB BRTBOTHAL.

163

It sud-
sparkling
tion each
lany, and
are like a
tness the
d outline,
f night.

Dorway —
Id do jus-
rhole soul
1 through
ly with it.
observed,
e; but as
Doctor (as
her waist,
music. It
she would

press the
; it reason-
octor, and
them, they
t, and if it

that went
re the best

hat heart,
nder what
at then he

5 last exer-

t after alH
>efore, per-
otes. Was
u so ? Oh

'^e the repe
IS perfectly
t, and pro-
bars, " it's
aail-coaches
when they

all turned out with new, amess and coaches fresh painted, and
coachman and guard in new toggery, and four as beautiful bits of
blood to each on 'em as was to be found in England, warn't it a
sight to behold. Sir 1 The world could show nothin' like it, Sir.
And to think they are past and gone, it makes one's 'eart hache.
They tells me the coachman now. Sir, has a dirty black face, and
rides on a fender before a large grate, and flourishes a red 'ot poker
instead of a whip. The guard. Sir, they tells me, is no ."

" Good bye, Mr. Jackson ;," and I shook hands with him.

" Isn't that too bad, Sir, now 1 " he said. " Why, here is Betty
again. Sir, with that d — d 'at, and a lecture about the stroke. Good
bye your honor," said he.

When we came to the bridge where the road curved into the
woods, I turned and took a last look at the place where I had spent
such an agreeable day.

I don't envy you it. Doctor, but I wish I had such a lovely
place at Slickville as that. What do you think, Sophy, eh 1 I
have an idea you and I could be very happy there, don't you ?

" Oh ! Mr. Slick," said Jehu Judd, who was the first person I
saw at the door of Peter's house, " what an everlastin' long day
was yesterday ! I did nothing but renew the poultice, look in the
glass, and turn into bed again. It's off now, ain't it Y'

" Yes," sais I, " and we are off, too, in no time."

" But the trade," sais he ; " let's talk that over.**

" Haven't time," sais I ; "it must be short meter, as you say
when you are to home to Quaco, practising Sail Mody (as you call
it) mackarel is five dollars a barrel, sains thirty — say yes or no,
that's the word."

" How can you have the conscience ?" said he.

" I never talk of conscience in trade," sais 1 j " only of prices.
Bargain or no bargain, that's the ticket."

" I can't," he said.

" Well, tV-'n, there is an end of it," says I. " Good bye, friend
Judd."

Sais he : " You have a mighty short way with you, my friend.'*

" A short way is better than a long face," said I.

" Well," said he, " I can't do without the sains (nets) no how I
can fix it, so I suppose I must give the price. But I hope I may
be skinned alive, if you ain't too keen."

" Whoever takes a fancy to skin you, whether dead or alive,
will have a tough job of it, I reckon," sais I, " it's as tight as the
bark of a tree."

" For two pins," said he, " I'd tan your hide for you now,"
said he.

" Ah," said I, " you are usin' your sain before you pay for it.
That's not fair."

164

THE BBTBOTHAL.

:l^

I ''
1 I

« Why r said hes

" Because," sais I, " you are insane to talk that way.*'

"Well, well," said he, "you do heat the devil."

" You can't say that," sais I, " for I hain't laid a hand on yott
Come," sais I, " wake snakes, and push off with the captain, and
get the fish on board. Cutler, tell the mate, macarel is five
dollars the batrel, and nets thirty each. We shall join you
presently, and so frietid Judd, you had better put the licks in, and
make haste, or there will be ' more fiddling and dancing and serving
the devil this morning.' "

He turned round, and gave me a look of intense hatred, and
shook his fist at me. I took off my hat and made him a low bow,
and said, " that's right, save your breath, to cool your broth or to
groan tvith when you get home, and have a refreshing time with
the Come-outers.

" My father was a preacher,
A mighty holy man ;
My mother was a Methodist,
But I'm a Tunyan."

tie became as 'pale as a mad nigger at this. He was quite
speechless with rage, and turning from me, said nothing, and
proceeded with the Captain to the ooat. It was some time before
the party returned from the lake, but the two waggons were far
apart, and Jessie and the Doctor came last — was it that the road
was bad, and he was a poor driver ? perhaps so. A man who
loves the woods, don't know or care much about roads. It don't
follow because a feller is a good shot, he is a good whip ; or
was it they had so much to say, the short distance didn't afford
time. Well, I ain't experienced in these matters, though perhaps
you are. Squire. Still though Cupid is represented with bows and
arrows, (and how many I have painted on my clocks, for they
always sold the best,) I don't think he was ever sketched in an old
one hoss waggon. A canoe would ha"e suited you both better, you
would have been more at home there. If I was a gall I would
always be courted in one, for you can't romp there, or you would
be capsized. It's the safest place I know of. It's very well to be
over head and ears in love, but my eyes, to be over head and ears in
the water, is no place for love-making, unless it is for young whales,
and even they spout and blow like all wrath, w^hen they come up,
as if you might have too much of a good thing, don't they 1"

They both looked happy — ^Jessie was unsophisticated, and her
countenance, when it turned on me, seemed to say, " Mr. Slick, I
have taken your advice, and I am delighted I did."* And the
Doctor looked happy, but his face seemed to say, come now
Slick) no nonsense, please, let me alone, that's a good fellow."

eno

this
«

<(
«(
i<
u
u
u •

ta hi

«(

rical

there

with

"Th<

only

remo

there

letter

to the

bougl

unciv

didn't

her o^

retire

confid
daugh

" T
and tl
have I

An<
health

Thi]
Docto
'em h<

«D
arrive

As
wants

ti: i:!| ;

il i I

THE BBTBOTHAL.

165

id on yow
iptain, and
rel is five
join you
cks in, and
md serving

hatred, and
a low bow,
broth or to
r time with

e was quite

lothing, and

time before

ons were far ||

;hat the road

A man who

ds. It don't

)d whip; or

didn't afford

)ugh perhaps

ith bows and

,ks, for they

hed in an old

[h better, you

gall I would

jr you would

ry well to be

id and ears in

oung whales,
[hey come up,
;heyr'

Ated, and her
p Mr. Slick, I

". And the

, come new

fellow."

Peter perceived something he didn't understand. He had Men
a great deal he didn't comprehend since he left the Highlands, and
heard a great many things he didn't know the meaning of. It was
enough for him if he could guess it.

*' Toctor," said he, " how many kind o' partridges are there in
this country 1"

" Two," said the simple-minded naturalist, ^* spruce and birch."

" Which is the prettiest 1'*

"The birch."

"And the smartest 1"

" The birch."

" Both love to live in the woods, don't they V*

« Yes."

" Well there is a difference in color. Ta spruce is red flesh, md
ta birch white, did you ever know them mix ?"

" Oflen," said the Doctor, who began to understand this allego<
rical talk of the North-West trader, and feel uncomfortable, and
therefore didn't like to say no. "Well, then, the spruce must stay
with the pirch, or the pirch live with the spruce," continued Peter.
" The peech wood between the two are dangerous to both, for its
only fit for cuckooes."

Peter looked chuffy and sulky, There was no minister at the
remote post he had belonged to in the nor-west. The governor
there read a sermon of a Sunday sometimes, but he oflener wrote
letters. The marriages, when contracted, were generally limited
to the period of service of the employeSf and sometimes a wife was
bought, or at others, entrapped like a beaver. It was a civil or
uncivil contract as the case might be. Wooing was a thing he
didn't understand ; for what right had a woman to an opinion of
her own 1 Jessie felt for her father, the Doctor, and herself, and
retired crying. The Doctor said :

" Peter, you know me — I am an honest man ; give vd*^ your
confidence, and then I will ask the Chief for the hand i-*' his
daughter."

" Tat is like herself," said Peter. " And she never doubted her ;
and there is her hand, which is her word. Tarn the coixae ! let us
have a glass of whiskey."

And he poured out three, and we severally drank to each other's
health, and peace, was once more restored.

Thinks I to myself, now is the time to settle this affair ; for the
Doctor, Peter, and Jessie are all like children ; it's right to show
'em how to act.

" Doctor," sais I, "just see if the cart with the moose has
arrived ; we must be a moving soon, for the wind is fair."

As soon as he went on this errand, " Peter," sais I, " the Doctor
^mia to marry your daughter, ^d she, I think, is not unwilling,

' asi

.V-

166

THB BETROTHAL.

It-:

V'Si

though, between you and rae, you know better than she does what
is good for her. Now the Doctor don't know as much of the
woild as you do. He has never seen Scotland, nor the northwest,
nor travelled as you have, and observed so much."

" She never said a truer word in her life," said Peter. " She has
seen the Shetlands and the Eocky Mountains — the two finest places
in the world, and crossed the sea and the Red River; pesides
Canada and Nova Scotia, and seen French, and pairs, and Indians
and wolves, and plue noses and puffaloes, and Yankees and prairie
dogs, and Highland chiefs, and Indian chiefs, and other great shen-
tlemen, pesides peavers with their tails on. She has seen the pest
part of the world, Mr. SJick." And he lighted his pipe in his en-
thusiasm, when enumerating what he had seen, and looked as if he
felt good all over.

" Well," sais I, " the Doctor, like an honorable man, has asked
Squire Peter McDonald for his daughter ; now, when he comes in,
call Jessie and place her hand in his, and say you consent, and let
the spruce and birch partridge go and live near the lake together."

" Tat she will," said he, " for ta Toctor is a shentleman pred and
porn, though she hasn't the honor to be a highlander."

As soon as the Bachelor Beaver returned, Peter went on this
paternal mission, for which I prepared my friend ; and the betrothal
was duly performed, when he said in Gaelic:

" J)hia Beammich sibh le choile^ mo chlam ! God bless you both,
my children ! "

As soon as the ceremony was over, " Now," sais I, " we must
be a movin'. Come, Peter, let us go on board. Where are the
pipes 1 Strike up your merriest tune."

And he preceded us, playing, " Nach damhsadh am minster" in
his best manner — if anything can be said to be good, where bad is
the best. When we arrived at the beach, Cutler and my old
friend, the black steward, were ready to receive us. It would have
been a bad omen, to have had Sorrow meet the betrothed pair so
soon, but that was only a jocular name given to a very merry
jiegro.

" Well, Sorrow," sais I, as we pushed off in the boat, " how are
you?"

" Very bad, Massa," he said ; " I ab been used most rediculous
shamful since you left. Time was berry dull on board since you
been withdrawn from de light ob your countenance, and de crew
sent on shore, and got a consignment ob rum; for benefit ob under-
writers and all consarned, as dey said, and uey sung hymns, as dey
call nigga songs, like Lucy Neal and I'lcy Long, and den dey said
we must hab ablution sarmon ; so ''cjy fust corned me, Massa."

" In the beef or pork-barrel, Sorrow ?" said I.

" Oh, Lord bless you, Massa, in needer ; you knows de meaning

If.

TBB BBTBOTHAL.

167

does "what
uch of the
northwest,

« She has
inest places
jr ; pesides
and Indians
and prairie
great shen-
en the pest
)e in his en-
Iced as if he

1, has asked
le comes in,
jent, and let
e together."
an pred and

v^ent on this
he betrothal

iss you both,

" we must
lere are the

minster" in
vhere bad is
md my old
fc would have
thed pair so
very merry

,t, " how are

(t rediculous
rd since you
and de crew
it ob under-
7mns, as dey
len dey said
Massa."

de meaning

ob dat are word— I Is sure you does — dey made me most tosicated,
Massa, and dey said, * Sorrow, come preach ablution sarmon.'
Oh, Massa, I was berry sorry, it made me feel all ober like ague ;
but how could I insist so many ? what was I to do ? dey fust made
me der slave, and den said, 'now tell us 'bout 'mancipation.'
Well, dey gub me glass ob rum, and I swallowed it— berry bad
rum— well, dat wouldn't do. Well, den dey gub me anoder glass,
and dat wouldn't do ; dis here child hab trong head, Massa, werry
trong, but he hoped d?. rum was all out, it was so bad ; den dey
rejectioned anoder in my face, and I paused and crastimated : sais
I, 'Masters, is you done?' for dis child was afeard, Massa, if he
drank all de bottle empty, dey would tro dat in his face too, so
sais I :

" ' Masters, I preaches under r)rotest, against owners and ship for
bandonmen ; but if I must put to sea, and dis nigga don't know
how to steer by 'unar compass, here goes.' Sais I, 'my dear
bredren,'— and dej all called out :

" ' You farnal nigga you ! do you call us bredren, when you is as
black as de debbil's hind leg 1 '

" ' I beg your most massiful pardon,' sais I ; ' but as you is ablu-
tionists, and when you preach call us regraded niggars, your
colored bredren, I tought I might venture to foller in de same suit,
if I had a card ob same color.'

" ' Well done. Uncle Tom,' sais they. * Well doife. Zip Coon,'
and dey made me swallow anoder glass ob naked truth. Dis here
child has a trong head, Massa, dat are a fac. He stand so much
sun, he aint combustioned in his entails.

" ' Go on,' sais they.

" ' Well, my bredren,' sais I, * I will dilate to you the vally of a
nigga, as put in one scale and white man in de oder. Now,
bredren, you know a sparrer can't fall to de ground no how he can
fix it, bat de Lord knows it— in course ob argument you do.
Well, you knows twelve "Sparrers sell in de market for one penny.
In course of respondence you do ; how much then does de Lord
care for a nigga like me, who is worth six hundred dollars and fifty
cents at de least ? So, gentlemen, I is done, and now please, my
bredren, I will pass round de hat wid your recurrence.'

" Well, dey was pretty high, and dey behaved like gentlemen, I
must submit dat ; dey gub me four dollars, dey did — dey is great
friends to nigga, and great mancipationists, all ob dem ; and I
would hab got two dollars ttiore, I do rally conclude, if I hadn't a
called 'em my bredren. Dat was a slip ob de lock-jaw."

" I must inquire into this," said Cutler, " it's the most indecent
thinff I ever heard of. It is downright profanity ; it is shocking."

"Very," said I, " but the sermon warn't a bad one ; I never
heerd a niggar reason before \ I knew they could talk, and so can

«!? ■

108

THE BBT9QTHAL.

Lord Tandemberry ; but as for reasoning, I never beerd either one
cr the other attempt it before. There is an approach to logic in
th^t."

*' There is a very good hit at the hypocrisy of abolitionists in it,"
said ihe Doctor ; " that appeal about my bredren is capital, and
the pa^^ing round of the hat is quite evangelical."

'' Olgh,'' said Peter, "she have crossed the great sea and the
great prairies, and she haven't heerd many sarmons, for Sunday
don't come but once a month there ; but dat is the pest she ever
heerd, it is so short." «

*' Slick," said Cutler, " I am astonished at you. Give way there,
my men ; ease the bow oar."

" Exactly," sais I, " Cutler — ^give way there, my man ; ease the
bow-oar — that's my maxim, too — how the devil can you learn if
you don't hear 1" sais I.

** How can you learn good," said he, " if you listen to evil 1"

" Let's split the difference," said I, laughing, as I say in swapping ;
** let's split the difference. If you don't study mankind, how can
you know the world at all 1 But if you want to preach ^"

" Come, behave yourself," said he, laughing ; " lower down the
man-ropeif there."

" To help up the women" said L

" Slick,"^ said he, " it's no use talking ; you are incorrigible."

The breakfast was like other breakfasts of the same kind ; and,
as the wind was fair, we could not venture to offer any amusements
to our guests. So in due time we parted, the Doctor alone of the
whole party remaining on board. Cutler made the first move by
ascending the companion-ladder, and I shook hands with Peter as
a hint for him to follow. Jessie, her sister, Ovey, and I, remained
a few minutes longer in the cabin. The former was much agitated.

" Good-bye," said she, " Mr. Slick ! Next to him," pointing to
the Bachelor Beaver, " you have been the kindest and best friend I
ever had. You have made me feel what it is to be happy ;" and,
woman-like, to prove her happiness, burst out a crying, and threw
her arms round my neck and kissed me. " Oh ! Mr. Slick, do we
part forever 1"

" Forever I" sais I, trying to cheer her up ; " forever is a most
thundering long word. No, not forever, nor for long either. I
expect you and the Doctor will come and visit us to Slickville this
fall ;" and I laid an emphasis on that word " us" because it referred
to what I had told her of Sophy.

" Oh I" said she ; " how kind that is !"

" Well," sais I. " now I will do a kinder thing. Jane and I will
fto on deck, and leave you and the Doctor to bid each other good-
bye." Af I reached the door, } turned jand said : "Jessie, teach

▲ FOGOT NIOHT.

169

her one
logic in

ts in it,"
ital, and

and the

Sunday

she ever

ay there,

ease the
learn if

8viir'
wrapping ;
how can

ilown the

rible."
ind; and,
Lusements
me of the
move by
Peter as
remained
agitated,
minting to
st friend I
py ;" and,
nd threw
ck, do we

is a most
either. I
kville this
it referred

and I vf ill
ther good-
ie, teach

lilm Gfelic the way Flora taught me — ^ do bhileau boidheadii* (with
your pretty lips).' " • '

As the boat drew alongside, Peter bid me again a most aifec-
tionate if not a most complimentary farewell.

" She has never seen many Yankees herself," said Peter ; " but
prayen Joe, the borse-stealer — tam him — and a few New England
jpedlars, who asked three hundred per shent for their coots, but
Mr. Slick is a shentleman, every inch of him, and the pest of them
ohe ever saw, and she will pe glad to see her again whenever she
comes this way," *

When they were all seated in the boat, Peter played a doleful
ditty, which I have no doubt expressed the grief of his heart. But
I am sorry to ssy it was not much appreciated on board of the
*' Black Hawk." By the time they reached the shore, the anchor
vas up, the sails trimmed, and we w^e fairly out of Ship Harbor.

CHAPTER XUL
A FOGGY NIGHT.

The wind, what there was of it, was ofT shore; it was a
light north-wester, but after we made an offing of about ten miles,
it failed us, being evidently nothing but a land-breeze, and we were
soon becalmed After tossing about for an hour or two, a light
cat's-paw gave notice that a fresh one was springing up, but it was
from the east, and directly ahead.

" We shall make poor work of this," said the pilot, " and I am
afraid it will bring up a fog with it, which is a dangerous thing on
this coast; I would advise returning to Ship Harbor, but the
Captain said, business must be attended to, and as there was no-
thing more of the kind to be done there, we must only have
patience and beat up for Port Liscomb, which is a great resort for
fishermen." I proposed we should take the wind as we found it,
and run for Chesencook, a French settlement, a short distance
to the westward of us, and so we could effect our object there,
which I thought very probable, as no American vessels put in
there if they can avoid it. This proposition met the approval of
all parties, so we put the Black Hawk before the wind, and by
sunset were safely and securely anchored. The sails were scarcely
furled before the fog set in, or rather rose up, for it seemed not so
much to come from the sea as to ascend from it as steam arises
from heated water,
8

iro

A FOGGT Kiaiir,

liii

It seemed the work of magic, its appearance was so sndcfen. A
moment before there was a glorious sunset, now we had impene-
trable darkness. We were enveloped, as it were, in a cloud, the
more dense, perhaps, because its progress was arrested by the
spruce hi?ls, back of the village, and it had receded upon itselfl
The little French settlement (for the inhabitants were all descended
from the ancient Aeadians) was no longer discernible, and heavy
drops of water fell from the rigging on to the deck. The men put
on their " sow- wester" hats, and yellow oiled cotton jackets. Their
hair looked gray, as if there had been sleet falling. There was a
great change in the temperature — the weather appeared to have
suddenly retrograded to April, not that it was so cold, but that it
WJas raw and uncomfortable. We shut the companion-door to
keep it from descending there, and paced the deck and discoursed
upon this disagreeable vapor-bath, its cause, its efieets on the con-
stitution, and so on,

" It does not penetrate far into the country," said the Doctor,
*' and is by no means unhealthy, as it is of a diflferent character
altogether from the land-fog. As an illastration, however, of its
density, and of the short distance it rises from the water, I will
tell you a circumstance to which I was an eye-witness. I was on
the citadel hill at Halifax once, and saw the points of the masts of
a mail-steamer above the fog, as she was proceeding up the harbor,
and I waited there to ascertain if she could possibly escape George's
Island, which lay directly in her track, but which it was manifest
her pilot could not discern from the deck. In a few moments she
was stationary. All this I could plainly perceive, although the
hull of the vessel was invisible. Some idea may be formed of the
obscurity occasioned by the fog, from the absurd stories that were
waggishly put abroad at the time of the accident. It was gravely
asserted, that the first notice the sentinel had of her approach, was
a poke in the side from her jib-boom, which knocked him over into
the moat and broke two of his ribs ; and it was also maintained,
with equal truth, that when she came to the wharf, it was found
she had brought away a small brass gun on her bowsprit, which,
like an elephant, she had thrust her long trunk into."

"Well," sais I, "let Halifax alone for that; there are some
droll coves there, that's a fact — many a laugh I have had there, I
tell you. But, Doctor," sais I, "just listen to the noises on shore
here at Chesencook. It's a curious thing to hear the shout of the
anxious mother to her vagrant boy to return, before night makes
it too dark to find his way home, ain't it 1 and to listen to the
noisy gambols of invisible children, the man in the cloud bawling
to his oxeii, as if the fog had affected their hearing instead of their
sight, the sharp ring of the axe at the wood-pile, and the barking
of the dogs as they defy or salute each other — one 1 fancy is a

A FOaOT NIGHT.

Men. A

impene-
loud, the
1 by the
&n itself^
[escended
nd heavy

men put
ts. Their
ere was a
I to have
)at that it
n-door to
Jiscoursed
n the con-

\e Doctor,

character
;ver, of its
ater, I will

I was on
le masts of
„he harbor,
>e George's
9 manifest
►ments she
;hough the
iiied of the
9 that were

as gravely
3roach, was
n over into
aaaintained,

was found
prit, which,

i are some
lad there, I
;es on shore
ihout of the
light makes
sten to the
►ud bawling
ead: of their
the barking
1 fancy is a

grumbling bark, as much as to say, No sleep for us, old boy, to-
night ; some of these coasters will be making love to our sheep as
they did last week, if we don't keep a bright look-out. If you
hear a fellow speak English, pitch right into the heretic, and bite
like a snapping-turtle ; 1 always do so in the dark, for they can't
swear to you when they don't see you. If they don't give me my
soup soon, (how like a French dog thj^t, ain't it ?) Vll have a cod-
fish for my supper to-night off of old jodry's flakes at the other end
of the harbor, for our masters bark so loud they never bite, so let
them accuse little Paul Longille of theft. I wonder if dogs do
talk. Doctor ?" said I.

" There is no doubt of it," he replied. " I believe both animals
and birds have some means of communicating to each other all
that is necessary for them — I don't go further."

" Well, that's reasonable," sais I ; " I go that figure, too, but not
a cent higher. Now there is a nigger," sais I ; and I would have
given him a wink if I could, and made a jupe of my head towards
Cutler, to show him I was agoin to get the Captain's dander up for
fun ; but what's the use of a wink in a fog 1 In the first place, it
aint easy to make one ; your lids are so everlastin' heavy ; and
who the plague can see you if you do ? and if they did notice it,
they would only think you were tryin' to protect your peepers,
that's all. Well, a wink is no better nor a nod to a blind horse ;
so I gave him a nudge instead. " Now, there is the nigger. Doc-
tor," sais I, " do you think he has a soul 1* It's a question I always
wanted to ask Brother Eldad, for I never see him a digsectin' of a
darky. If I had, I should have known, for nature has a place for
everything, and everything in its place."

" Mr. Slick," said Cutler — he never called me Mr. Slick before,
and it showed he was mad, — " do you doubt it?"

" No," sais I, " 1 don't ; my only doubt is whether they have
three ?"

" What in the world do you mean ?" said he.

" Well," sais I, " two souls we know they have — their great flat
splaw feet show that, and as hard as jackasses' they are, too ; but
the third is my difticulty ; if they have a soul, where is it 1 We
aint jest satisfied about its locality in ourselves. Is it in the heart,

* This very singular and inconsequential rhodomontade of Mr. Slick is one
of those startling pieces of levity that a stranger often hears from a person of
his class in his travels on this side of the water. The odd mixture of strong
religious feeling and repulsive looseness of conversation on serious subjects,
which may here and there be found in his diary, naturally results from a free
association with persons of all or no creeds. It is the most obj'^ctionable trait in
his character — to reject it altogether would be to vary the portrait he has given
us of himself — to admit it lowers the estimate we might otherwise be disposed
to form of him ; but as he has often observed, what is the use of a sketch if it
be not faithful t

1/.^

17a.

A FOOOT NIOHT.

or the brain, or where does it hang out ? We know geesc have
souls, and we Icnow where to find them." . <

" Oh, oh !" said Cutler.

" Cut off the legs and wings and breast of the goose," sais I,
*' and split him down lengthways, and right agin the back-bone is
small ceils, and there is the goose's soul, it's black meat, pretty
much nigger color. Oh, it's grand ! It's the most delicate part of
the bird. It's what I always ask for myself, when folks say, * Mr.
Slick, what part shall I help you to — a slice of the breast, a wing,
a side-bone, or a deacon's nose, or what V Everybody laughs at
that last word, especially if there is a deacon at table, for it sounds
unctuous, as he calls it, and he can excuse a joke on it. So he
laughs himself, in token of approbation of the tid-bits be>ng reserved
for him. ' Give me the soul,' sais I ; and this I v:iii say, a most
delicious thing it is, too. Now, don't groan, Cutler — keep that for
the tooth-ache, or a camp-meetin ; it's a waste of breath ; for as we
don't exactly know where our own souls reside, what harm is there
to pursue such an interesting investigation as to our black brethren.
My private opinion is, if a nigger has one, it is located in his heel.'*

" Oh, Mr. Slick !" said he, " oh !" and he held up both hands.

" Well," sais I, " Cutler, just listen to reason now, just hear me ;
you have been all round the world, but never in it ; now, I have
been a great deal in it, but don't care for goin' round it. It don't
pay. Did you ever see a nigger who had the gout? for they feed
on the best, and drink of the best, when they are household ser-
vants down south, and often have the gout. If you have, did you
ever hear one say, * Get off my toes V No never, nor any other
created critter. They always say, ' Get off my heel.' They are
all like Lucy Long, ' when her foot was in the market-house, her
heel was in the street.' It is the pride and boast of a darkey. His
head is as thick as a ram's, but his heel is very sensitive. Now,
does the soul reside there 1 Did you ever study a dead nigger's
heel, as we do a horse's frog. All the feeling of a horse is there.
Wound that, and he never recovers ; he is foundered — his heart is
broke. Now, if a nigger has a soul, and it ain't in his gizzard,
and can't in natur fte in his skull, why, it stands to reason it must
be in his heel."

" Oh, Mr. Slick," said Cutler, " I never thought I should have
heard this from you. It's downright profanity.'

" It's no such thing," sais I, " it's merely a philosophical investi-
gation. Mr. Cutler,'' sais I, " let us understand each other. I have
been brought up by a minister as well as you, and I believe your
father, the clergyman at Barnstable, was as good a man as ever
lived ; but Barnstable is a small place. My ^ear old master, Mr.
Hopewell, was an old man who had seen a great deal in his time,
and knew a great deal, for h« had gone through the mill."

one
Will
Well,
one fo
— it a
buys
Is tha
me al(
the lei
all, he
them
woul(

A FOOOY NIGHT.

173

have

" sals I,
L-bone is
t, pretty
5 part of
ay, ' Mr.
1, a wing,
aughs at
it sounds
, So he
reserved
', a most
p that for
for as we
n is there
brethren. ,
his heel."
hands,
hear me ;
w, I have
It don't
they feed
jhold ser-
), did you
any other
They are
house, her
key. His
f&. Now,
d nigger*s
3 is there,
lis heart is
is gizzard,
an it must

lould have

cal investi-
IV. I have
lieve your
an as ever
aaster, Mr.
n his time,
I."

"What is that?" said he.

" Why," sais I, " when he was a boy, he was intended, like
Washington, for a land surveyor, and studied that branch of busi-
ness, and was to go to the woods to lay out lots. Well, a day or
two arter he was diplomatised as a surveyor, he went to bathe in a
mill-pond, and the mill was agoin' like all statiee, and sucked him
into the flume, and he went through into the race below, and came
out t'other side with both his legs broke. It was a dreadful acci-
dent, and gave him serious reflections, for as he lay in bed, he
thought he might just as easily have broke his neck. Well, in our
country about Slickville, any man arter that who was wise and had
experience of life, was said to have gone through the mill. Do you
taker ; , ■... , t

But he didn't answer.

" Well, your father and my good old friend brought us both up
religiously, and I hope taught us what was right. But, Mr.
Cutler "

" Doi 't call me Mr.," said he.

" Well, Cutler, then, I have been ' through the mill,' in that sense.
I have acquired a knowledge of the world ; if I havn't, the kicks I
have taken must have fallen on barren ground. I know the chalk
line in life won't do always to travel by. If you go straight a head,
a bottomless quag or a precipice will bring you up all standing as
sure as fate. Well, they don't stop me, for I give them the go-by,
and make a level line without a tunnel, or tubular bridge, or any
other scientific folly ; I get to the end my own way — and it aint a
slow one neither. Let me be, and put this in your pipe. I have
set many a man straight before now, but I never put one on the
wrong road since I was raised. I dare say you have heard I cheated
in clocks — I never did. I have sold a fellow one for five pounds
that cost me one ; skill did that. Let him send to London, and get
one of Barraud's, as father did, for twenty-five pounds sterling.
Will it keep better time? I guess not. Is that a case of sell?
Well, my knowledge of horse-flesh aint to be sneezed at. I buy
one for fifty dollars and sell him for two hundred ; that's skill again
— it aint a cheat. A merchant thinking a Russian war inevitable,
buys flour at four dollars a barrel, and sells it in a month at sixteen.
Is that a fraud 1 There is roguery in all trades but our own. Let
me alone therefore. There is wisdom sometimes in a fool's answer ;
the learned are simple, the ignorant wise ; hear them both ; above
all, hear them out ; and if they don't talk with a looseness, draw
them out. If Newman had talked as well as studied, he never
would have quitted his church. He didn't convince himseli he was
wrong ; he bothered himself, so he didn't at last know right from
wrong. If other folks had talked freely, they would have met him
on the road, and told him, * You have lost your way, old boy j there

174:

▲ FOOGT KIOHT.

*, -
■it ,■■

:■■*.

is a river a-head of you, and a very civil ferryman there ; lie xpill
take you over free gratis for nothing ; but the deuce a bit will he
bring you back, there is an embargo that side of the water.' Now
let me alone ; I don't talk nonsense for nothing, and when you tack
this way and that way, and beat the ' Black Hawk' up agen the wind,
I won't tell you you don't steer right on end on a bee line, and go
as straight as a loon's leg. Do you take ?"

" I understand you," he said, " but still I don't see the use of
saying what you don't mean. Perhaps it's my ignorance or preju-
dice, or whatever you choose to call it ; but 1 dare say you know
what you are about."

" Cutler," sais I, " I wam't bora yesterday. The truth is, fo
much nonsense is talked about niggers, I feel riled when I think of
it. It actilly makes me feel spotty on the back.* When I was to
London last, I was asked to attend a meetin,' for foundin' a college
for our colored brethren. Uncle Tom had set some folks half crazy,
and others half mad, and what he couldn't do Aunt Harriet did.
* Well,' sais I to myself, ' is this bunkum or what in natur is it?
If I go, I shall be set down as a spooney abolitionist ; if I don't go,
1 shall be set down as an overseer or nigger driver, and not a clock-
maker. I can't please nobody any way, and what is wus, I don't
believe I shall please Mr. Slick, no how I can fix it. However, I
will go and see which way the mule kicks."

" Well, Lord Blotherumskite jumps up, and makes a speech ; and
what do you think he set about proving ? Why that darkies had
immortal souls — as if any created critter ever doubted it ! and he
pitched into us Yankees and the poor colonists like a thousand of
bricks. The fact is the way he painted us both out, one would
think he doubted whether we had any souls. The pioui lis turned
up the whites of their eyes like ducks in thunder, as if they expected
drakes to fall from the skies, and the low church folks called out,
hear, hear, as if they had discovered the passage at the North Pole,
which I do think might be made of some use if it wam't blocked up
with ice for everlastingly. And he talked of that great big he-nig-
ger, Uncle Tom Lavender, who was as large as a buil buffalo. He
said he only wished he was in the House of Peers, for he would
have astonished their lordships. Well, so far he was correct, for if
he had been in their hot room, I think Master Lavender would have

(

II. i

* This extraordinary effect of anger and fear on animals was obserN'cd centu-
ries before America was discovered. Statius, a writer who fully equals Mr.
Slick both in his affectation and bombast, thus alludes to it :— . >

" Qualis ubi audito venantum murmure tigris,

Horruit in maculas"
" As when the tigress hears the hunter's din,

Dark angry spots distain her glossy skin."

■ ^ *f*f=,*

A FOOOT NIOHT.

17fl

a; he will
bit will he
er.' Now
n you tack
n the wind,
ne, and go

the use of
;e or preju-
• you know

truth is, FO
1 1 think of
en I was to
n' a college
} half crazy,
larriet did.
latur is if?
r I don't go,
not a clock-
vus, I don't
However, I

^peech; and
darkies had

it ! and he
ihousand of

one would

lis turned

ey expected

called out,
North Pole,

blocked up
t big he-nig-
lufFalo. He
>r he would
orrect, for if

would have

)served ccntu-
ly equals Mr.

Astonished their weak nerves so, not many would have waited to be
counted. There would soon have been a dispersion, but there never
would have been a division." ..'-^ *.,

" Well, what did you do T said Cutler,

"Kept my word," sals I, "as I always do, I seconded the
motion, but I gave them a dose of common sense, as a foundation
to build upon. I told them niggers must be prepared for liberty,
and when they were sufficiently instructed to receive and appreciate
the blessing, they must have elementary knowledge, furst in religion
and then on the useful arts, before a college should be attempted,
and so on, and then took up my hat and walked out Well, they
almost hissed me, and the sour virgins who bottled up all their
humanity to pour out on the niggers, actilly pineted at me, and called
me a Yankee Pussyite. I had some capital stories to excite 'em
with, but I didn't thuak they were worth the powder and shot.
It takes a great many strange people, Cutler," sals I, " to make a
world. I used to like to put the leake into folks wunst, but I have
given it up in disgust now." , > t . r y ,

"Why?" saishe. ' ""

" Because," sais I, " if you put a leake into a cask that haint got
much in it, the grounds; and settlin's won't pay for the trouble;
Our people talk a great cleal of nonsense about emancipation, bnt
they know it's all bunkum, and it serves to palmeteer on, and
makes a pretty party catch-word. But in England, it appears to
me, they always like what they don't understand, as niggers do
Latin and Greek quotations in sermons. But here is Sorrow. I
suppose tea is ready, as the old ladies say. Come, old boy," sais I
to Cutler, " shake hands ; we have the same object in view, but
sometimes we travel by different trains, that's all. Come, let us
go below. Ah, Sorrow," sais I, " something smells good here ; is
it a moose steak 1 Take off that dish-cover."

"Ah, Massa," said he, as he removed it, " dat are is lubby, dat
are a fac."

When I looked at it, I said very gravely.

" Take it away. Sorrow, I can't eat it ; you have put the salt and
pepper on it before you broiled it, and drawn out all the juice. It's
as dry as leather. Take it away."

" Does you tink it would be a little more better if it was a little
more doner, Sar ? People of 'finement, like you and me, some-
time differ in tastes. But, Massa, as to de salt, now how you talks !
does you railly tink dis here nlgga hab no more sense den one ob
dees stupid white fishermen has ? No, Massa ; dis child knows his
work, and is de boy to do it, too. When de steak is een amost
done, he score him lengthway — dis way," passing a finger of his
right hand over the palm of the lefb, " and fill up de crack wid salt
and pepper, then gub him one turn more, and dat resolve it all

I-

■ f

176

A FOOOT KIOHT.

I- I

fe: it

''•iiri

P!!'

Il:
! 1^

beautiful. Oh no, Massa, moose meat is naterally werrj drj, ]ik«
Yankee preacher \rhen he got no baccj. So 1 makes graby for
him. Oh, here is some lubbly graby f Try dig^ Massa, My old
missus in Varginy was werry patticular about her graby. She
usen to say, ' Sorrow, it tante fine clothes makes de gentleman, but
a delicate taste for soups, and grabys, and cnirys. Barbacues^
roast pigs, salt meat, and such coarse tings, is only fit for Congress-
men.' 1 kinsait my graby, Massa, is done tO' de tm-n ob a hair, fo»
dis child is a rambitious nigga. Fust, Massa, I puts in a lump ob
butter 'bout size ob piece ob chalk, and a glass ob water, and den
*prinkle in flour to make it look like milk, den put him on fire, and
when he hiss, stir him wid spoon to make him hosh; den I adds
inion, dat is fust biled to take off de 'trong taste, 'eetle made mus-
tard, and a pinch ob most elegant super-superor yellow snuff."

" Snuff, you rascal !" said 1, ""how dare yovil Take it away —
throw it overboard ! Oh, Lord ! to think of eating snuff! Was
there ever anything half so horrid since the world began 1 Sorrow,
I thought you had better broughtens up."

^ " Well, now, Massa," said he, " does you tink dis nigga hab no
soul ?" and he went to the locker, and brought out a small square
pint bottle, and said, '^ smeli dat, Massa ; dat are oJiriferous, dat
are a fee.**

"Why, that's curry-powder," I said. ""Why don^t you call
things by their right nan»e ?"

" Massa," said he, with a knowing wink, " dere is more snuff den
is made ofhacce^ dat are an undoubtahle fac. I>e scent ob dat is so
good, I can smell it ashore amo&t. Den, Massa, when graby is aU
ready, and distrained beautiful, dis child warms him up by de fire
and stirs him ; but," and he put bis finger on his nose, and looke()
me full in the face, and paused, " but Massa, it mtust be stir all de
one way, or it iles up, and de debbil hisself won't pit him right no

more.

" Sorrow," sais I, " you don't know nothin' about your businessi.
Suppose it did get iled up, any fool could set it right in a minute.'*
" Yes, yes, Massa," he said, "^I know. 1 abdone it myself often

— drink it all up, and make it ober

agatiD,

until all right wunst

more ; sometimes I drink him up de matter ob two or tree times
before he get quite right.**

" No," sais I, " take it off the fire, add two spoonfuls of cold
water, heat it again, and stir it the right way, and it is as straight
as a boot-jack."

" Well, Massa,*' said he, and he showed an unusual quantity of
white in his eyes, " well, Massa, you is actilly right. My old mis-
sus taught me dat secret herself, and I did actilly tink no Jibbin*
soul but me and she in de whole univarsal United States did know
dat are, for I take my oat on my last will and testament, I nebber

i.i.

cTry, lik*
raby for
My old
>y. She
man, but
irbacuesp,
/ongress-
, hair, fo J
lump ob
and den
fire, and
in I adds
tde mu»-
uff."
away —
F! Was
Sorrow,

% hab no
11 square
srous, dat

you cal)

snttf den
dat is so
•aby is all
^y de fire
id looked
tir all de
1 right no

bttsinessv
1 minute.'*
rself often
gbt wunsU
ree times

Is of cold
s straight

lantity of
f old mis-
no Jibbin*
did knovr
^ I nebber

A rOOOT NIOHT.

177

tole robody. But, Massa," said he, " I ab twenty different ways-
ay, fitty different ways, to make graby, but, at sea, one must do de
best he can with nottin to do with, and when nottin is simmered a
week in nottin by de fire, it don't take long to sarve him up. Massa,
if you will scuze me, I will tell you what dis here nigga tinks on
de subject ob his perfession. Some grand folks, like Missus, and de
Queen ob England and de Emperor ob Roosia, may be fust chop
cooks, and I won't deny de fac ; and no taxes to 'em, for dere sauce
pans is all silber and gold ; but I have 'skivered dey don't know
nuffin' about de right way to eat tings after dey has gone done 'em.
Mo and Miss Phillesy Anne, de two confdential sarvants. alters
had de dinner sent into our room when missus done gone leedin'.
Missus was werry kind to us, and we neber stinted her in nuffin'»
I allers gib her one bottle wine, and no-he-no more den was possi-
ble for her and her company to want, and in course good conduct
is allers rewarded, cause we had what was left. Well, me and
Miss Phillis used to dress up hansum for dinner, to set good sample
to niggars, and two ob de colored waiters tended on us.

"So one day, said Miss Phillis to me: 'What shall I ab de
honor to help yaw to, Mr. Sorrow.'

" * Aunt Phillis,' sais I, * skuse me one minit, I ab made a grand
ski very.'

" ' What is dat, uncle,' sais she, * you is so debber ! I clare you
is wort you weight in gold. What in natur would our dear Missus
do widout you and me ; for it was me skivered how to cure de
pip in chickens, and make de eggs all hatch out roosters or hens ;
and how to souse young turkeys like young children, in cold water,
but what is your wention, Mr. Sorrow V

" * Why,' sais I, ' aunty — what does you see out ob dat winder,
Sambo 1 you imf>erent rascal — Nuffi*^ Sar. Well, you black nigga,
if you stare bout dat way, you will see yourself flogged next time.
If you ab no manners, I must teach you for de credit ob de plan-
tation ; hold a plate to Miss Phillis right away. Why, aunty,'
sais T, ' dis is de skivery : a house must have solid foundation, but a
dinner a soft one — on count ob disgestion ; so I begins wid custard
and jelly, (dey tastes werry well together, and are light on de
stomac ;) den I takes a glass ob whisky to keep em from turnin
sour ; dat is de first step. Sambo, pour me out some. Second
one is presarves, ices, fruits — strawljerry and cream, or mustache-
churnings (pistachio cream), and if dey is skilful stowed, den de
cargo don't shift under de hatches — arter dat comes punkin pie,
pineapple tarts, and raspberry charlotte.'

" 'Mr. Sorrow,' sais aunty, ' I's actilly ashamed ob you to name
a dish arter a yaller gall dat way, and call it charlotte ; it's onde-
cent, specially afore dese niggars.'
9*

m '

I I

a ^

178

A FOGOT KIOHT.

** ' Law, Bakes,' sais I, " Miss Phillis, does you tink I ab no
Aense ; I hate a yaller gall as I do a pyson.'

" ' So do 1,' said she, * dey is neider chalk nor cheese ; dey is a

disgrace to de plantation dey is on ; but raspberry charlotte is ft

name I nebber heard tell ob for a dish. Why how you talks,' sais I.

" Well, den is de time for fish, such as stewed rooks.'

" ' Now you is a funnen,' sais aunty, ' isn't you 1 How on airtb

do you stew rocks ? yah! yah! yah!' .</•,-...,

" ' Easy as kiss my hand to you,' sais I, ' and if dere be no fish^

(and dat white Yankee oberseer is so cussed lazy, hout catchin of

them, I must struct Missus to discharge him,) den dere is two nice

little genteel dishes, * birds in de grobe,' and ' plover on de shore,*

and den top off wid soup ; and I ain't particular about dat, so long

as I ab de best ; and dat. Miss Phillis, makes a grand soft bed, you

see, for stantials like beef or mutton, or ham, or venson, to lay

down easy on.'

" ' Well, you is a wonderftil man, Mr. Sorrow, I do really tink
dat srtands to reason and experience,' sais Miss Thellis. WhMi I
marred my fiif husband — ^no, it wam't my fiff, it was my sixth — I
had lubly baby tree month six weeks old, and my old man killed
it maken speriments. He would give it soup, and minced veal to
make it trong. Sais I, * Mr. Caesar, dat aint natur ; fust you know
it must ab milk, den pap, and so on in order.' Says he, * I alius
feeds master's young bull-dogs on raw meat. Well, Ccesar died
same night, child did,' (and she gub me a wink ;) ' sunthen dis«
agreed wid him also that he eat.' ' Oh Massa,' he continued, ' bears
dat ab eubs^ and women dat ab childern^ is ckinfferous. ^ Mr. Sor^
row,' said she, * dat is a great skivery of yourn ; you'd best tell
Missus.'

" * I is most afeard she is too much slave to fashion,' sais I.
" • Uncle, said she, * you mustn't say dat ob dear Miss Lunn, or
I must decline de onor to dine wid you. It aint spectful. Mr.
Sorrow, myjnissus aint de slave ob fashion — she sets it, by 'golly ! '
and she stood up quite dignant.

". ' Sambo, clar out ob dis dinen room quick stick,' sais I to de
waiter ; * you is so fond ob looken out on de field, you diall go
work dere, you lazy hound ; walk out ob de room dis minit ; when
I has finished my dinner, I will make you jine de labor gang. Miss
Phillis, do resume your seat agin, you is right as you alius is ; shall
I ab de honor to take glass ob wine wid you.'

" Now, Massa, try dat skivery ; you will be able to eat tree
times as much as you do now. Arter dat invention, I used to
enjoy my sleep grand. I went into de hottest place in de sun, laid
up my fkce to him, and sleep like a cedar stump, but den I alius
put my veil on."

« To keep the flies off 1" said I.

((

knoj
odei
into!
dere

1. FOOGT NIGHT.

I ab &o

dey is a
otte is a
s,' sais I.

on airth

e no fish«
fttchin of
two nice
le shore,*
b, so long
bed, you
Q, to lay

Bally tink
When I
f sixth — I
lan killed
ed veal to
you know
e, * I alius
£esar died
Qthen dis-
led, ' hearf
Mr. Sor^
best tell

ftis I. •"'
3 Lunn, or
tful. Mr.
by -golly I '

lais I to de
a ^all go
init ; when
ang. Miss
13 is *, shall

eat tree
, I used to
le sun, laid
den I alius

** Lord gracious ! no, master, dcy ncbbor trouble me ; dey is
afraid in de dark, and when dey sec me, dcy tink it is night, and
cut otf."

" What is the use of it, theni"

" To save my complexion, massa ; I is afraid it will fade white.
Yah, yah, yah \ "

While we were engaged in eating our steak, he put some glasses
on the table and handed me a black bottle, about two thirds full,
and said * massa, dis here fog ab got down my troat, and up into
my head, and most kill me, I can't tell wedder dat is wine or rum,
I is almost gwine almost distracted. Will massa please to tell
me?" '\ '<• -' c*' :, ' ^

I knew what he was at, so sais I, " If you can*t smell it, taste
it." Well, he poured a glass so full, nobody but a nigger could
have reached his mouth with it, without spilling. When he had
swallowed it he looked still more puzzled,

" Peers to me," he said, " dat is wine, he is so mild, and den it
'peers to me it's rum, for when it gets down to de stomach he feel
so good. But dis child ab lost his taste, his smell, and his tinement',
altogedder."

He then poured out another bumper, and as soon as he had
tossed it oflf^ said, "dat is de clear grit; dat is olerifeix)us — ^wake
de dead almost, it is de genuine piticular old Jamaicky, and no
mistake, f must put dat bottle back and give you todder one, dat
must be wine for sartain, for it is chock full, but rum 'vaporates
bery fast when de cork is drawn. Missus used to say, ' Sorrow,
meat, when kept, comes bery kigh^ but rum gets hery low.'' '* •

" Happy fellow and lucky fellow too, for what white man in
your situation would be treated so kindly and familiarly as you
are. The fact is, Doctor, the negroes of America, as a class,
whether slaves or free men, experience more real consideration,
and are more comfortable than the peasants of almost any country
in Europe. Ttieir notions of the origin of white men are very
droll, when the things are removed I will make him give you his
idear on the subject.

" Sorrow," said I, " what color was Adam and Eve."

" Oh, massa," said he, " don't go for to ask dis child what you
knows yourself, better nor what he does, I will tell you some
oder time, i is berry poorly just now, dis uncountable fog ab got
into my bones. Dis is shocking bad country for niggars; oh,
dere is noffin like de lubly sout ; it's a nateral home for blackies.

** In Souf Carolina de niggas grow
If de white man -will only plant his toe,
Den dey water de ground wid baccy smoke,
And out ob de soil dere heads will poke. .

Ring de hoop, blow de horn,

I nebber sec de like since I was bdi%

ii>ii ri it<** fai

180

A FOOGT KIOHT.

III!

m
1-^.

m I

' Way down in de counte-Tee,

Four or five mile from de ole Peedetf.

" Oh, Massa, dis coast is only fit for seals, porpoises, and iog*
fish, but not for gentlemen, nor niggars, »or ladies. Ob, I berry
bad," and he pressed both hands on his stomach as if he was m
great pain.

" Perhaps another glass of old Jamaica would set you right," I
said.

" Massa, what a most a grand doctor you would ab made," he
said. " Yah, yah, yah — you know de wery identical medkine for
de wery identical disease, don't you ; dat is just what natur was
callin' for eber so bad."

" Natur," sais I, " what's that, spell it."

" R u m," said he, " dat is human natur^ and whiskey is soft
sawder, it tickle de troat so nice and go down so slick. Dem is
de nara>3 my old missus used to ^b em. Oh, how she would a
lubb'd you, if you had spunked up to her and tied up to our plan-
tation ; she didn't affection Yankees much, for dem and dead nig.-
gers is too cold to sleep with, and cunnuchs (Canadians) she hated
like pison, cause they 'ticed off niggars ^ but she'd a took to you
naterally, you is such a good cook, I always tink, Massa, when
folks take to eaten same breakfast, same lunch, same dinner, same
tea, same supper, drinkin' same soup, lubbin' same graby, and
'fectioning, same presarves and pickles, and cakes and pies, and
wine, and cordials, and ice-creams, den dey plaguy soon begin to
rambition one anodder, and when dey do dat, dey is sure to say,

* Sorrow, does you know how to make weddin* cake, and frost him,
and set him off partikelar jam, wid vices of all kinds, little koopids^
and cocks and bens, and bales of cotton, figs of baccy, and ears of
corn, and all sorts of pretty things done in clarified sugar. It do
seem nateral to me, for when our young niggars go sparkin', and
spendin' evenings, dey most commonly marries. It stand to rea*-
son. But, massa I is bery bad indeed wid dis dreadful pain in my
infernal parts — I is indeed. " Oh," said he smackin' his lips, and
drainin' his glass, " dat is def to a white man, but life to a niggar ;
dat is sublime. What a pity it is dey make de glasses so almighty
tunderin' small; de man dat inwented dem couldn't a had no
remaginable nose at all, dat are a fac."

" But the color of Adam," said I.

" Oh, Massa," he said, " you knows bery well he was a black
gentleman, and Misses Eve a most splendid Swanga black lady.
Oh, yes, massa, dey were made black to enjoy de grand warm
sun. Well, Cain was a wicked man, cause he killed his brudder.
So de Lord say to him one day, ' Cain, where is your brudder V

* I don't know, massa,' said he, * I didn't see him nowhere.' Well,

!!!'

iil;l

▲ FOaOY NIGHT.

181

and cFog'
I, I berry
e was ki

right," I

sade," he
Ikine for
atar was

5y is soft
Dem is
> would a
our plan-
dead nig.-
she hated
k to you
9sa, when
tier, same
aby, and

pves,

and

begin to
re to say,
frost him,
i koopidS)
id ears of
ar. It do
:kin', and
nd to rea-
ain in my
lips, and
a niggar •,
► almighty
a had no

,s a black
lack lady,
and warm
s brudder.
brudder 1'
e.' Well,

de next time he asked him de sef-same question, and he answered
quite sarcy, ' How in de world does I know 1 I aint my brudder's
keeper.' Well, afore he know'd where he was, de Lord said to him,
in a voice ob tunder, ' You murder'd him, you villain ! * And
Cain, he was so scared, he turned white dat very instant. He
nebber could stand heat, nor enjoy summer no more again, nor
none ob his childer arter him, but Abel's children remain black to
dis day. Fac, massa, fac, I does assure you. When you like
supper, massa?"

" At ten o'clock," sals I.

" Well den, I will go and get sunthen nice for you. Oh ! my
ole Missus was a lubbly cook ; I don't believe in my heart de
Queen ob England could hold a candle to her ! she knowed twenty
two and a half ways to cook Indian corn, and ten or twelve ob 'em
she inwen^ed herself dat was de astonishment ob ebbery one."

" Half a way," I said, " what do you mean by that ■?"

" Why, Massa, de common slommachy way people ab ob boil-
ing it on de cob ; dat she said was only half a way. Oh, Lordy
gracious, one way she wentsd, de corn was as white as snow, as
light as pufF, and so delicate it disgested itself in de mout."

" You can go," said Cutler.

" Tankee, Massa," said Sorrow, with a mingled air of submission
and fun, as much as to say, " I guess I don't want leave for that,
but I thank you all the same as if I did," and making a scrape of
his hind-leg, he retired.

" Slick," said Cutler, " it isn't right to allow that nigger to
swallow so much rum. How can one wonder at their degradation,
when a man like you permits them to drink in that manner 1"

" Exactly," sais I, " you think and talk like all abolitionists, as
my old friend Colonel Crockett used to say, the Yankees always
do. He said, ' When they sent them to pick their cherries, they
made them whistle all the time, so that they couldn't eat any.' I
understand blctcks better than you do. Lock up your liquor and
they will steal it, for their moral perceptions are weak. Trust
them, and teach them to use, and not to abuse it. Do that, and
they will be grateful, and prove themselves trustworthy. That
fellow's drinking is more for the fun of the thing, than the love of
liquor. Negroes are not drunkards anywhere. They are droll
boys ; but, Cutler, long before thrashing-machines were invented,
there was a command, ' not to muzzle the ox that treadeth out the
corn.' Put that in your pipe, my boy, the next time you prepare
your Kinnikennic for smoking, will you 1 "

" Kinnikennic," said the Doctor, " what under the sun is that?"

" A ccmposition," sais 1, " of dry leaves of certain aromatic
plants and barks of various kinds of trees, an excellent substitute
for tobacco, but when mixed with it, something super-superior.

%.■ .

182

FEMALE COLLEGES.

If WO can get into the woods, I will show you how to prepare it.
But, Doctor," sais 1, " I build no theories on the subject of the
Africans ; I leave their construction to other and wiser men than
myself. Here is a sample of the raw material ; can it be manu»
factured Into civilization of a higher order ? Q stands for query,
don't it t Well, all J shall do is to put a Q to it, and let politi*
cians answer it ; but I can't help thinking there is some truth in the
old saw ' where ignorance is hliss^ His folly to he wise,'' "

).,.

1^3

'« i 'I

Ml ''

M''"' ' '

II-

CHAPTER XIV

FEMALE COLLEGES.

After Sorrow had retired, we lighted our cigars, and turned to
for a nhat, if chat it can be called where I did most of the talking
myself,

" Doctor," said I, " I wish I had had more time to have exam-
ined your collection of minerals. I had no idea Nova Scotia could
boast of such an infinite variety of them. You could have taught
me more in conversation in five minutes than I could have learned
by books in a month. You are a mineralogist, and I am sorry to
say I aint, though every boarding-school miss, now-a-days, in our
country, consaits she is. They are up to trap at any rate, if
nothing else, you may depend," and I gave him a wink.

" Now don t. Slick," said he, " now don't set me off, that's a good
fellow."

" ' Mr. Slick,' said a young lady of about twelve years of age, to
me wunst, * do you know what gray wackey is ? for I do.'

" Don't I ? ' sais I ; * I know it to my cost. Lord ! how my old
master used to lay it on ! '

" * Lay it on ! * she said ; * I thought it reposed on a primitive
bed overlaid by salacious rocks.'

" * Silicious is the word, dear.'

*' ' No, it aint,' said she ; 'and I ought to know, for the prese-
dentess (Professor) calls it salacious.'

*' ' Well, well,' sais I, ' we won't dispute about words. Still, if
anybody knows what gray wackey ia, I ought, but I don't find it so
easy to repose after it as ycu mtiy. Oray means the gray birch
rod, dear, and wackey means layin' it on. We always called it
gray whacky in school, when a feller was catching particular
Moses,'

" * Why, how ignorant you are ! ' said she. ' Do you know
what them mining tarms, cUnch, parting^ and black bat means V

FEMALE COLLEGES.

188

repare it.
ict of the
men than
be manU'
or query,
let politi*
ath in the

turned to
lie talking

ive exam-
otia could
ve taught
e learned
I sorry to
'^s, in our
Y rate, if

t's a good

of age, to

w my old

primitive

the prese-

Still, if
; find it so
ray birch
I called it
particular

ou know
eansT

" ' Why, in course I do ! ' sais I ; * clinch is marrying^ parting is
getting divorced, and black bat is where a fellow beats his wife black
and blue.' ^ ^

" ' Pooh !' said she, " you don't know nothing."

" ' Well,* sais I, ' what do you know V

*' * Why,' said she, ' 1 know Spanish and mathematics, ichthiology
and conchology, astronomy and dancing, mineralogy and animal
magnetism, and German and chemistry, and French and bota,ny.
Yes, and the use of globes too. Can you tell me what attraction
and repulsion is ]"

" * To be sure I can,' said I, ' and I drew her on my knee, and
kissed her. * That's attraction, dear.' And when she kicked and
screamed as cross as two cats, ' that, my pretty one,' I said, ' is
repulsion. Now I know a great many things you don't. Can you
hem a pocket-handkerchief f

"'No.'

" * Nor make a pudding ?'

« * No.'

* " Nor make Kentucky batter V

"'No.'

" ' Well, do you know any useful thing in life V

" Yes, I do ; I can sing, and play on the piano, and write valen-
tines,' sais she, * so get out.' And she walked away, quite
dignified, muttering to herself, ' Make a pudding, eh ! well, I
want to know !'

" Thinks I to myself, my pretty little may-flower, in this ever-
lastin' progressive nation of ourn, where the wheel of fortune never
stops turning day or night, and them that's at the top one rrjinute
are down in the dirt the next, you may say ' I want to ir^v w'
before you die, and be very glad to change your tuue, and say,
' Thank heaven I do know !' "

" Is that a joke of yours," said the doctor, " about the young
girl's geology, or is it really a fact 1''

" Fact, 1 assure you," said I. " And to prove it FU tell you a
story about a Female College that will shew you what pains we
take to spoil our young ladies to home. Miss Liddy Adams, who
was proprietor and 'dentess (presidentess) of a Female College
to Onionville, was a relation of mother's, and I knew her when she
was quite a young shoat of a thing to Slickville. I shall never
forget a flight into Egypt I caused once in her establishment.
When I returned from the embassy, I stopped a day in Onionville,
near her university — for that was the name she gave hern ; and
thinks I, I will just call and look in on Lid for old acquaintance
sake, and see how she is figuring it out in life. Well, I raps away
with the knocker, as loud as possible, as much as to say, make
haste, for there is somebody here, when a tall spare gall with

W-\

184

FEMALE OOLLBGES.

! ' I

A vinegar face, opened the door just wide enough to show her
profile, and hide her back gear, and stood to hear what I had to
say. I never see so spare a gall since I was raised. Pharaoh's
lean kine warn't the smallest part of a circumstance to her. She
was so thin, she actilly seemed as if she would have to lean agin
the wall to support herself when she scolded, and I had to look
twice at her before I could see her at all, for I wam't sure she
warn't her own shadow."

" Good gracious !" said the Doctor, " what a description t but

go on.

" ' Is the mistress at home V said I.

" ' I have no mistress,' said she.

" ' I didn't say you had,' sais I, * for I knew you hadn't afore
you spoke.'

" ' How did you know that V said she.

" * Because,' sais I, ' seein' so handsome a lady as yoi:, I thought
you was one of the professors ; and then I thought you must be
the mistress herself, and was a- thinking how likely she had grow'd
since I seed her last. Are you one of the class-teachers V

" It bothered her ; she didn't know whether it was impudence
or admiration ; bvj when a woman arbitrates on a case she ia
interested in, she always gives an award m her own favor.

" ' Walk in. Sir,' said she, ' and I will see,' and she backed and
backed before me, not out of deference to me, but to the hooks of
her gown, and threw a door open. On the opposite side was a
la'ge room filled with galls, peeping and looking over each other's
shoulders at me, for it was intermission.

" ' Are these your pupils V sais I ; and before she could speak, I
went right past into the midst of 'em. Oh, what a scuddin' and
screamin' there was among them! A rocket explodin' there
couldn't a' done more mischief. They tumbled over chairs,
npsot tables, and went head and heels over each other like any-
thing, shouting out, ' A man ! a man !'

" ' Where — where V sais I, a-chasin' of them, ' show him to me,
and I'll soon clear him out. What is he a-doing off

" It was the greatest fun you ever see. Out they flew through
the door at the other eend of the room, some up and some down-
stairs, singing out, ' A man ! a man !' till I thought they would
have hallooed their daylights out. Away I flew after them, calling
out, ' Where is he 1 show him to me, and I'll soon pitch into him !'
when who should I see but Miss Liddy in the entry, as stiff* and as
starch as a stand-up shirt collar of a frosty day. She looked like
a large pale icicle, standing up on its broad end, and cold enough
to give you the ague to look at her. . •

" ' Mr. Slick,' said she, ' may I ask what is the meaning of all
this unseemly behavior in the presence of young ladies of the first
families in the State V

FEMALU OOLLBOEB.

186

show her
b I had to
Pharaoh's
ler. She
lean agin
i to look
} sure she

tion! but

,dn't afore

I thought
I must be
ad grow'd

mpudence
ase she is

acked and
e hooks of
ide was a
ich other's

d speak, I
uddin' and
din' there
er chairs,
p like any-

lim to me,

w through
)me down-
hey would
3m, calling
into him !'
stiff and as
ooked like
)ld enough

•

ning of all
of the first

"Says I, *Miss Adam,' for as she used the word Mr. as a
handle to me, I thought I'de take a pull at the Miss, ' some robber
or house-breaker has got in, I rather think, and scared the young
femenine students, for they seemed to be running after somebody,
and I thought 1 would assist them.'

" ' May 1 ask, Sir,' a-drawin' of herself up to her full height, as
straight and as prim as a Lombardy poplar, or rather, a bull-rush,
for that's all one size. * May I ask, Sir, what is the object of your
visit here — at a place where no gentlemen are received but the
parents or guardians of some of the children.'

" I was as mad as a hatter ; I felt a little bit vain of the embassy
to London, and my Paris dress, particularly my boots and gloves,
and all that, and I will admit, there is no use talkin', I rather
kinder sorter thought she would be proud of the connection. I
am a good natured man in a general way, when I am pleased, but
it ain't safe to ryle me, I tell you. "When I am spotty on the back,
I am dangerous. I bit in my breath, and tried to look cool, for I
was determined to take revenge out of her.

" ' Allow me to say. Sir,' said she, a perkin' up her mouth like
the end of a silk purse, ' that I think your intrusion is as unwel-
come as it is unpardonable. May I ask the favor of you to with-
draw? if not, J. must introduce you to the watchman.'

" ' I came,' sais I, ' Miss Adam, having heard of your distin-
guished college in the saloons of Paris and London, to make a
proposal to you ; but, like a bull — '

" ' Oh, dear !' said she, ' to think I should have lived to hear such
a horrid word in this abode of learning !'

" ' But,' I went on, without stopping, ' like a bull in a chiny-
shop, I see I have got into the wrong pew; so nothin' remains but
for me to beg pardon, keep my proposal for where it will be
civilly received, at least, aoA back out.'

" She was as puzzled as the maid. But women ain't throwed
off their guard easily. If they are in a dark place, they can feel
their way out, if they can't see it. So, says she, dubious-like :

" ' About a child, I suppose f

" ' It is customary in Europe,' sais 1, ' I believe, to talk about
the marriage first, isn't it ? but I have been so much abroad, I am
not certified as to usages here.'

" Oh, warn't she brought to a hack ! She had a great mind to
order me out, but then that word ' proposal ' was one she had only
seen in a dictionary — she had never heard it ; and it is such a
pretty one, and sounded so nice to the ear ; and then that word
* marriage ' was used also, so it carried the day .

" ' This is not a place, Mr. Slick, for foundlings, I'de have you to
know,' said she, with an air of disgust, *but children whose parents
are of the first class of society. If,' and she paused and looked at

186

FBMALB COLLBOEB

■■:ir

Bit

% a

I ft/

.:A

me scrutinlsin*, — * if your proposals are of thai nature, walk In
here, Sir, if you please, where our conversation will not be over-
heard. Pray be seated. May I ask, what is the nature of the
proposition with which you design to honor me V and she gave me
a smile that would pass for one of graciousness and sweet temper,
or of encouragement. It hadn't a decided character, and was a
non-committal one. She was doin' quite the lady, but I conceited
her ear was itching to hear what I had to say, for she put a finger
up, with a beautiful diamond ring, and brushed a fly ofl* with it ;
but, after all, perhaps it was only to show her lily-white hand,
which merely wanted a run at grass on the after-feed to fatten it
up, and make it look quite beautiful.

" ' Certainly,' sais I, 'you may ask any question of the kind you
like.'

" It took he- aback, for she requested leave to ask, and I granted
it; but she riitM it it different.

"Thinks 1, *iViy pretty grammarian, there is a little grain of
differencj hs twe' i " May I ask," and " I must ask." Try it again.'

"She didn't i^^aak for a minute; so, to relieve her, sais I,

"'When J ] .,v round here, and see how charmingly you are
located, and wiiu^ your occupation is, I hardly think you would feel
disposed to leave it ; so perhaps I may as w-iil forbear the pro-
posal, as it isn't pleasant to be refused.'

" ' It depends,' she said, ' upon what the nature of those proposals
are, Mr. Slick, and who makes them,' and this time she did give a
look of great complacency and kindness. ' Do put down your
hat, Sir. I have read your Clockmaker,' she continued ; ' I really
feel quite proud of the relationship ; but I hope you will excuse
me for asking, why did you put your own name to it, and call it
" Sam Slick the Clockmaker," now that you are a distinguished
diplomatist, and a member of our embassy at the court of Victoria
the First ? It's not an elegant appellation that,' sais she, ' is it V
(She had found her tongue now). ' Sam Slick the Clockmaker, a
factorist of wooden clocks especially, sounds trady, and will impede
the rise of a colossal reputation, whic u has already one foot in the
St. Lawrence, and the other in the M.i.'^^.jissippi.'

" ' And sneezes in the Chesapeake," s.iis I.

" ' Oh,' said she, in the blandest luanner, ' how like you, Mr.
Slick ! you don't spare a joke, even on yourself. You see fun in
everything.'

"'Better,' sais I, 'than seeing harm in everything, as them
galls — '

" ' Young ladies,' said she.

" ' Well, young ladies, who saw harm in me because I \vas a
man. What harm is there in their seeing a man? You ain't
frightened at one, are you, Liddy V

so.

FBMALB 0OLLBOS8.

187

walk in

be over-

3 of the

gave me

temper,

i was a

lonceited

a finger

with it;

te hand,

fatten it

kind you

[ gi-arted

grain

It again.

you are

^oukl feel
the pro-

jroposals

id give a

wn your

I really

11 excuse

nd call it

inguished

Victoria

'is \tV

:maker, a

11 impede

Dot in Lhe

you, Mr.
lee fun in

as them

} I was a

You ain't

" She evaded that with a smile, as much as to say, * Well, I ain't
much skeered, that's a fact.'

" * Mr. Slick, it is a subject not worth while pursuing,' she re-
plied. ' You know the sensittweness, nervous delicacy, and scru-
pulous innocence of the fair sex in this country, and I may speak
plainly to you as a man of the world. You must perceive how
destructive of all modesty in their juvenile minds, when impressions
are so easily made, it would be to familiarize their youthful eyes
to the largrr limbs of gentleman enveloped in pantaloons. To
speak plainly, I am sure 1 needn't tell you it ain't decent.'

" ' Well,' sais I, ' it wouldn't be decent if they wern't enveloped
in them.'

" She looked down to blush, but it didn't come natural, so she
looked up and smiled, (as much as to say. Do get out, you impu-
dent critter. I know it's bunkum as well as you do, but don't
bother me. I have a part to play.) Then she rose and looked at
her watch, and said the lecture-hour for botanv had come.

" ' Well, sais I, a taking up my hat, ' that's a charming study,
the loves of the plants, for young ladies, ain't it 1 they begin with
natur, you see, and — ' (well, she couldn't help laughing). ' But I
see you are engaged.'

" ' Me V said she, ' I assure you. Sir, I know people used to say
so, afore General Peleg Smith went to Texas.'

" ' What, that scallawag V said I. ' Why, that fellow ought to
be kicked out of all refined society. How could you associate
with a man who had no more decency than to expect folks to call
him by name !'

" ' How V said she.

"'Why,' sais I, 'what delicate-minded woman could ever bring
herself to say Fe-leg. If he had called himself Hujacious Smith,
or Largerlimb Smith, or something of that kind, it would have
done, but Peleg is downright ondeacent. I had to leave Boston
wunst a whole winter, for mak'ng a mistake of that kind. I met
Miss Sperm one day from Nantucket, and, says I, ' Did you see
me yesterday, with those two elegant galls from Albany V

" ' No,' said she, ' I didn't'

" ' Strange, too,' said I, ' for I was most sure I caught a glimpse
of you on the other side c^ the street, and I wanted to introduce
you to them, but warn't quite sartain it was you. My,' sais I,
' didn't you see a very unfashionable dressed man," (and I looked
down at my Paris boots, as if I was doing modest,) 'with two
angeliferous females. Why, I had a leg on each arm.'

" ' She fairly screamed out at that expression, rushed into a
milliner's shop, and cried like a lE^ardener's watering-pot. The
names she called me ain't no matter. They were the two Miss
Legge's of Albany, and cut a tall swarth, I tell you, for they say

188

FEMALB OOLLBGBB.

they are descended from a governor of Nova Scotia, when good
men, according to their tell, could be found for governors, and that
their relations in England are some pumpkins, too. I was as inno-
cent as a child, Letty.'

" * Well,' said she, ' you are the most difficult man to understand
I ever see — there is no telling whether you are in fun or in earnest.
But as I was a-saying, there was some such talk afore General
Smith went to Texas ; but that story was raised by the Pawtaxet
College folks, to injure this institution. They did all they could to
tear my reputation to chitlins. Me engaged, I should like to see
the man that — '.

" ' Well, you seemed plaguey scared at one just now,' sais I.
* I am sure it was a strange way to show you would like to see a
man.^

" ' I didn't say that,' she replied, * but you take one up so quick.'

" * It's a way I have,' said I, ' and always had, since you and I
was to singing-school together, and lamt sharps, flats, and naturals.
It was a crotchet of mine,' and I just whipped my arm round her
waist, took her up and kissed her, afore she knowed where she
was. Oh Lordy ! Out came her comb, and down fell her hair to
her waist, like a mill-dam broke loose ; and two false curls and a
braid fell on the floor, and her frill took to dancin' round, and got
wrong side afore, and one of her shoes slipt off, and she really
looked as if she had been in an indgean-scrimmage, and was ready
for scalpin.

" ' Then you aint engaged, Liddy,' sais I ; ' how glad I am to
hear that ; it makes my heart jump ; and cherries is ripe now,
and I will help you into the tree, as I used to did when you and I
was boy and gall together. It does seem so nateral, Liddy, to have
a game of romps with you again ; it makes me feel as young as a
two-year-old. How beautiful you do look, too ! My, what a pity
you is shut up here, with these young galls all day, talking by the
yard, about the corrallas, calyxes, and staminas of flowers, while
you

** * Are doomed to blush unseen,
And waste your sweetness on the desert air.'

" ' Oh,' said she, ' Sam, I must cut and tun, and " blush unseen,"
that's a L^ct, or I'm ruinated,' and she up curls, comb, braid, and
shoe, aod off like a shot into a bed-room that adjoined the parlor,
and boiled the door, and double-locked it, as if she was afraid an
attachment was to be levied on her and her chattels, by the sheriff,
and I w^as a bum-bailiff.

" Thinks I, old gall, I'll pay you off for treating me the way you
did just now, as sure as the world. ' May I ask, Mr. Slick, what
U> the object of this visit V A pretty way to receive a cousin that

VSKALB OOLLBOIB

189

n good
,ncl that
IS iniio-

erstand
earnest.
General
awtaxet
jould to
I to see

' sais I.
to see a

> quick.'
1 and I
laturals.
und her
lere she
' hair to
s and a
and got
e really
IS ready

I am to
pe now,
u and I
to have
ng as a
it a pity
by the
rs, while

»»

unseen,
raid, and
parlor,
ifraid an
e sheriff,

•

way you
ck, what
usia that

you haven't seen so long, aint it ? and though I say it, that shouldn't
say it, that cousin, too, Sam Slick, the attache to our embassy to
the Court of Victoria, Buckingham Palace. You couldn't a treated
me wuss, if I had been one of the liveried, powdered, bedizened,
be-bloated footmen from 't'other big house there of Aunt Har-
riette's.' I'll make you come down from your stilts, and walk
naterel, I know, isee if I don't.

" Presently she returned, all set to rights, and a little righter,
too, for she had put a touch of rouge on to make the blush stick
better, and her hair was slicked up snugger than before, and looked
as if it had growed like anything. She had also slipped a handsome
habit-shirt on, and she looked, take her altogether, as if, though she
warn't engaged, she ought to have been afore the last five hot sum-
mers came, and the general thaw had commenced in the spring,
and she had got thin, and out of condition. She put her hand on
her heart, and said, ' I am so skared, Sam, I feel all over of a twit-
teration. The way you act is horrid.'

'• ' So do I,' sais I, ' Liddy, it's so long since you and I used to — *

" ' You aint altered a bit, Sam,' said she, for the starch was com-
ing out, ' from what you was, only you are more forrider. Our
young men, when they go abroad, come back and talk so free and
easy, and take such liberties, and say it's the fashion in Paris, it's
quite scandalous. Now, if you dare to do the like again, I'll never
speak to you the longest day I ever live, I'll go right off and leave,
see if I don't.'

" ' Oh, I see, I have offended you,' sais I ; * you are not in a hu-
mor to consent now, so I will call again some other time.'

" ' This lecture on botany must now be postponed,' she said, * for
the hour is out some time ago. If you will be seated, 1 will set
the young students at embroidery, instead, and return for a short
time, for it does seem so naterel to see you, Sam, you saucy boy,'
and she pinched my ear, * it reminds one, don't it, of by-gones V
and she hung her head arone side, and looked sentimental.

" ' Of by-gone larks,' said I.

" ' Hush, Sam,' she said, ' don't talk so loud, that's a dear soul.
Oh, if anybody had come in just then, and caught ws.'

(" ' C/«,' thinks I to myself, ' I thought you had no objection to
it, and only struggled enough for modesty-like j and I did think you
would have said, caught vow.')

" ' [ would have been ruinated for ever and ever, and amen, and
the college broke up, and my position in the literary, scientific, and
intellectual world scorched, withered, and blasted for ever. Aint
my cheek all burning, Sam 1 it feels as if it was all a-fire ;' and she
put it near enough for me to see, and feel tempted beyond my
strength. ' Don't it look horrid inflamed, dear V And she danced
out of the room, as if she was skipping a rope.

•J.:.,

100

FSMALB OOLLBOes.

" "Well, well," sais I, when she took herself off. " What a world
this is. This is evangelical learning ; girls are taught in one room
to faint or p- "^am if they see a man, as if he was an incarnation
of sin ; and y et they are all educated and trained to think the sole
object of life is to win, not. convert, but win one of these sinners.
In the next room, proprit^tj, dignity, and decorum, romp with a
man in a way to make ever his sallow face blush. Teach a child
there is harm in everything, Jiowever innocent, and so soon as it
discovers the cheat, it won't see no sin in anything. That's the
reason deacons' sons seldom turn out well, and preachers' daughters
are married through a window. Innocence is the sweetest thing in
the world, and there is more of it than folks generally imagine. If
you w int some to transplant, don't seek it in the inclosures of cant,
for it has only counterfeit ones, but go to the gardens of truth and
of sense. Coerced innocence is like an imprisoned lark, open the
door and itV off for ever. The bird that roams through the sky
and the grove unrestrained, knows how to dodge the hawk and pro-
tect itseif, buL the caged one, the moment it leaves its bars and
bolts behind, is pounced upon by the fowler or the vulture.

" PuritanN, whether in or out of the church (for there is a whole
squad of 'em in it, like rats in a house who eat up its bread and
undermine its wall,) make moie sinners than they save, by a long
chalk. They ain't content with real sin, the pattern ain't sufficient
for a cloak, so they sew on sevoai breadthwof artificial offences,
and that makei? one big eijou^h to wrap round them, and cover their
own deformity. It enlarges the margin, and the book, and gives
more texts.

" Their eyes are like the great magnifier at the Polytechnic, that

,1.1 ?'s you many-headed, many-armed, many-footed and many-tailed

". i^ rionsters in a drop of water, which were never intended for

^3e, or Providence would have made our eyes like Lord

Jtfc^ Siic's telescope, (which discloses the secrets of the moon,) and

given us springs that had none of these canables in 'em. Water v^

■•^our drink, and it was made for ns to take when we were dry, and be

thankful. After I first saw one of these drops, like an old cheese

chock full of livin' things, I couldn't drink nothing but pure gin or

brandy for a week. I was scared to death. 1 consaited when I

went to bed I could audibly feel these critters fightin' like Turks and

mining my inerds, and Igotnarvous lest my stomach, like a citadel,

might be blowed up and the works destroyed. It was frightful.

" At last I sot up and said, Sam, where is all your common sense
gone. You used to have a considerable sized phial of it, I hope you
ain't lost the cork and let it all run out. So I put myself in .the
witness stand, and asked myself a few 'questions.

" ' Water was made to drink, warn't it V

"* That's a fa«t.'

a world
le room
irnation
the sole
sinners.
» with a
a child
>on as it
at's the
lughters
thing in
rine. If
of cant,
ruth and
>pen the
the sky
and pro-
»ars and

•

a whole
'ead and
y a long
sufficient
offences,
ver their
id gives

mic, that
ny-tailed
ided for
ke Lord
on,) and
Water i"^
y, and be

cheese
e gin or

when I
urks and
\ citadel,
htful.
on sense
lope you
If in the

FEMALB OOLLBOKS.

191

t*s

com-
his
nusio
their

" ' You can't see them critters In it with your naked eyel'

" ' I can't see them at all, neither naked or dressed.'

" ' Then it warn't intended you should V ,

" ' Seems as if it wasn't,' sais I.

" ' Then drink, and don't be skeered.'

" * I'll be darned if I don't, for who knows them wee-monstrosi.
ties don't help digestion, or feed on human pyson. They warn't
put into Adam's ale for nothin', that's a fact.'

" It seems as if they warn't,' sais I. * So now go to sleep.'

" Well, puritans' eyes are like them magnifiers ; the see the
devil in everything but themselves, where he is plaguy a^n to be
found by them that want him ; for he feels at home in heir
pany. One time they vow he is a dancin' master, an«i
feet so quick folks can't see they are cloven, another tii
master, and teaches children to open their mouths and not
nostrils in singing. Now he is a tailor or milliner, and makes
fashionable garments, and then a manager of a theatre, which is the
most awful place in the world ; it is a reflex of life, and the reflec-
tion is always worse than the original, as a man's shadow is more
dangerous than he is. But worst of all, they solemnly affirm, for
they don't swear, he comes sometimes in lawn sleeves, and looks
likes a bishop, which is popery, or in the garb of high churchmen,
who are all Jesuits. Is it any wonder these cantin' fellc/ws pervert
the understanding, sap the principles, corrupt the heart, and destroy
the happiness of so many ? Poor dear old Minister used to say,
' Sam, you must instruct your conscience, for an ignorant or super-
stitious conscience is a snare to the unwary. If you think a thing
is wrong that is not, and do it, then you sin, because you are doing
what you believe in your heart to be wicked. It is the intention
that constitutes the crime.' Those sour crouts, therefore, by crea-
ting artificial and imitation sin in such abundance, make real sin of * .-
no sort of consequence, and the world is so chock full of it, a fellow
gets careless at last and wont get out of its way, it's so much trouble
to pick his steps.

" Well, I was off in a brown study so deep about artificial sins,
I didn't hear Liddy come in, she shut the door so softly and trod
on tiptoes so light on the carpet. The first thing I knew was, I felt
her hands on my head as she stood behind me, a dividen of my
hair with her fingers.

" ' Why, Sam,' said she, 'as I'm a livin' sinner if you aint got
some white hairs in your head, and there is a little bald patch here
right on the crown. How strange it is ! It only seems like yester-
day you was a curly-headed boy.'

" ' Yes,' sais I, and I hove a sigh so loud it made the window jar ;
• but I have seen a great deal of trouble since then. I lost two
wives m Europe.'

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23 WIST MAIN STRUT

WUSTIR.N.Y. USM

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192

FBKALB 0OLLSOE8.

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Jlljljll

"*Now do tell,* said she. 'Why you don't! — oh, jimminy
criminy ! two wives ! How was it, poor Sam V and she kissed
the bald spot on my pate, and took a rockin' chair and sat opposite
to me, and began rockin' backwards and forwards like a fellow
sawing wood. ' How was it, Sara, dear V

" ' Why,' sais I, * first and foremost, Liddy, I married a fashion-
able lady to London. Well, bein' out night arter night at balls
and operas, and what not, she got kinder used up and beat out, and
unbeknownst to me used to take opium. Well, one night she took
too much, and in the morning she was as dead as a herring.*

" * Did she make a pretty corpse V said Lid, lookin' very sancti-
monious. *Did she lay out handsumi They say prussic acid
makes lovely corpses ; it keeps the eyes from falling in. Next to
dyin* happy, the greatest thing is to die pretty. Ugly corpses
frighten sinners, but elegant ones win them.*

"*The most lovely subject you ever beheld,* said L 'She
looked as if she was only asleep ; she didn't stiffen at all, but was
as limber as ever you see. Her hair fell over her neck fuid shoulders
in beautiful curls just like youm ; and she had on her fingers the
splendid diamond rings I gave her ; she was too fatigued to take
*em off when she retired the night afore. I felt proud of her even
in death, I do assure you. She was handsome enough to eat. I
went to ambassador's to consult him about the funeral, whether it
ehould be a state affair, with all the whole diplomatic corps of the
court to attend it, or a privat^,one. But he advised a private one ;
'he said it best comported with our dignified simplicity as republi-
cans, and, although cost was no object, still it was satisfactory to
know it was far less expense. When I came back she was gone.'

" * Gone !' said Liddy, ' gone where V

" ' Gone to the devil, dear, I suppose.'

" * Oh my !' said she. ' Well, I never, in all my bom days !
Oh, Sam, is that the way to talk of the dead !'

" ' In the dusk of the evening,' sais I, * a carriage, they said,
drove to the door, and a coffin was carried up-stairs ; but the
undertaker said it wouldn't fit, and it was taken back again for a
larger one. Just afore I went to bed, I went to the room to have
another look at her, and she was gone, and there was a letter on
the table for me ; it contained a few words only. ' Dear Sam, my
first husband is come to life, and so have I. Good-bye, love."

"♦Well, what did you do?'

" ♦ Gave it out,* said I, ' she died of the cholera, and had to be
buried quick and private, and no one never knew to the con-
trary.* ^ ,

" ' Didn't it 'most break your heart, Sammy V

" ' No,* sais I. ' In her hurry, she took my dressing-case instead
of her own, in which was all her own jewels, besides those I gavt

jimminy
he kissed
t opposite

a fellow

a fashion-
it at balls
^t out, and
b she took

*' >

jry sancti-

Lissic acid

Next to

[y corpses

I. *She
1, but was
[ shoulders
lingers the
id to take
f her even
to eat. I
whether it
rps of the
ivate one ;
18 republi-
factory to
as gone.'

>m days!

hey said,

but the

gain for a

n to have

letter on

Sam, my

ove."-j;^<,

had to be
the oon-

se instead
we I gav«

FBMALB OOLLBOSf.

198

her, and all our ready-money. So I tried to resign myidlf to my
loss, for it might have been worse, you know,' ana I bokid Ai good
as pie.

" * Well, if that don't beat all, I declare !' said she.

" ' Liddy,' sais I, with a mock solemeoly air, * every hUM hflu Hs
antidote, and every misfortune its peculiar consolation/

" ' Oh, Sam, that showed the want of a high moral intoUeotual
education, didn't it V said she. * And yet you had tho COUfAge to
marry again V

** ' Well, I married,' sais I, 'next year m France ft Ifldy who hftd
refused one of Louis Philip's sona. Oh, what a splendid gftll she
was, Liddy ! she was the star of Paris. Poor thing t I lost her ia
six weeks.'

*' ' Six weeks ! Oh, Solomon !' said she, * in six weeks 1*' V ^

" * Yes,' sais I, * in six short weeks.'

" * How was it, Sam ? do tell me all about it ; It^s quito roman'
tic. I vow, it's like the Arabian Nights Entertainment* Yott ftre
so unlucky, I swow I should be skeered— '

«• At what r sais L /

«*Why, at-' '

" She was caught there ; she was agoin' to Sftv, * At mfttYyin*
you,' but as she was a-ieadin* of me on, that wouIdn^t do* Doctor,
you may catch a gall sometimes, but if she has a mind to^ she can
escape if she chooses, for they are as slippery as eels* So she pre*
tended to hesitate on, till I asked her agam.

« ( Why,' sais she, a looking down, * at sleeping ftlone tO'tllght,
after hearing of these dreadful catastrophes/

"' Oh,' sais I,* is that all r

" ' But how did you lose her !' said she.

u i "v^hy g|jg jQjQQ^ off > gaid ij * with the Turkish ambftssftdor, and
if I had got a hold of him, I'de a lammed him wuss than tho devil
beatin' tan-bark, I know. Fde a had his melt, if tbero was a
bowie-knife out of Kentuckv.'

" ' Did you go after her v

" Yes ; but she cotched it afore I cotched her.*

" * How was that, Sam ]'

* " Why, she wanted to sarve him the same way, with an officer
of the Russian Guards, and Mahomet caught her, sewed her up it]
a sack, and throwed her neck and crop into the BosphofttS, tO hU
ten eels for the Greek ladies to keep Lent with.'

" * Why, how could you be so unfortunate V Sttid she.

*** That's a question I have often axed myself, Liddy/ sais t;
* but I have come to this conclusion : London and Paris ain't no
place for galls to be trained in.'

'* * So I have always said, and always will maintain to my dying
day,' she said, rising with great animation and pride, * What do
9

194

VBMALB COLLEOES.

ii'!

■.I'll!,

they teach there but music, dancing, and drawing) The dence 8
thing else ; but here is Spanish, French, German, Italian, botany
geology, mineralogy, icthiology, conchology, theology — *

" ' Do you teach angeolology and doxyolc^y V sais I.

" ' Yes, angeolology and doxyology,' she said, not knowing what
she was a-talking about.

" * And occult sciences V sais I.
:/ u t Yes, all the sciences. London and Paris, eh I Ask a lady
from either place if she knows the electric battery firom the mag-
netic—* ; , ; . , , , ,

" ^ Or & needle'vcom. a pole,* sais h

" * Yes,' sais she, without listening, * or any such question, and
see if she can answer it.* • . f • '

" She resumed her seat.

" * Forgive my enthusiasm,* she said, ^ Sam, you know I always
had a great deal of that.'

" ' I know,' said I, * you had the smallest jfbot and ankle of any-
body in our country. My ! what fine-spun glass heels you had !
Where in the world have you stowed them to*?' pretendin* to look
down for them.'

" * Kept them to kick you with,' she said ' if you are sassy.*

" Thinks I to myself: what next, as the woman said to the man
who kissed her in the tunnel. You are coming out, Liddy.

" ' Kick,' said I, * oh, you wouldn't try that, I am sure, let me do
what I would.' , -^ .

"' Why not,' said she.

" * Why,' sais I, 'if you did you would have to kick so high, you
would expose one of the larger limbs.'

" ' Mr. Slick,' said she, * I trust you will not so far forget what is
due to a lady, as to talk of showing her larger limbs, it's n(^
decent.'

"' Well, I know it ain't decent,' said 1, 'but you said you would
do it, and I just remonstrated a little, that's all.'

" ' You was saying about London and Paris,' said she, ' being no
place for educating youc^ ladies in.'

" ' Yes,' sais I, ' that painful story my two poor dear wives,
(which is ' all in my eye,' as plain ^ « was then) illustrates my
theory of education in those two cspitals. In London, females who
are a great deal in society in the season, like a man who drinks,
can't stop, they are at it all the tin?e, and like him, sometimes for-
eet the way home again. In Paris, galls are kept so much at
home before marriage, when they once get out, they don't want to
enter the cage again. They are the two extremes. If ever I
.xnaiTTy, I'll tell you how 1 will lay down the law. Pleasure shall
|:j!be the recreation and not the business of life with her. Home the
rule^parties the exception. Duty first, amusement second. Her

•wi*s*'-'«ei

FKKALB 00LLBOB8

195

9 dence ft
,n, tetany

wing wh^t

Uk a lady
itbe mag-

testion, and

>\r I always

ikle of any-
is you had !
kdin' to look

J sassy.*
I to the man

iddy.

re, let me do

ij -
so high, you

)rget what is
nbs, it's not

d you would

le, * being no

■ dear wives,
lustrates my
females who
I who dirinks,
)metimes for-
so much at
don't want to
I. If ever I
'leasurd shall
. Home the
leoond. Her

head-quarters shall always be in her own house, but the outposts
will never be neglected.'

" * Nothin' like an American woman for an American man, is
there V said she, and she drew nearer, lookin' up in my face to read
the 'answer, and didn't rock so hard.

" 'It depends upon how they are brought up,' said I, looking
wise. ' But Liddy,' sais I, * without joking, what an amazin' small
foot that is of yours. It always was, and wunst when it slipt
through a branch of the cherry-tree, do you recollect my saying, well
I vow that calf was suckled by two cows 1 now don't you Liddy V

"*No,sir,' said she, ' I don't, though children may say many
things that when they grow up, they are ashamed to repeat; but I
recollect, now, wunst when you and I went through the long grass
to the cherry-tree, your mother said, ' Liddy, beware you are not
bit by a garter snake,' and I never knew her meanin' till now,' and
she rose up and said, ' Mr. Slick,J[ must bid you good morning.'

"* Liddy,' sais I, * don't be so pesky starch, I'll be dod fetched if
I meant any harm, but you beat me all holler. I only spoke of
the calf, and you went a streak higher and talked of the garter.'

" ' Sam,' said she, ' you was always the most impedent, forredest,
and pertest boy that ever was, and travellin' hain't improved you
one mite or morsel.' .„i r. ..* ^ .

" ' I am sorry I have offended you, Liddy,' sais I, *but really
now how do you manage to teach all them things with hard names,
for we never even heard of them at Slickville. Have you any
masters V

. "' Masters !' said she, 'the first one that entered this college,
would ruin it forever. What, a man in this college ! where the
juvenile pupils belong to the first families 1 — I guess not. I hire a
young lady to teach rudiments.'

"'So I should think,' sais I, 'from the specimen I saw at your
door ; she was rude enough in all conscience.'

" ' Pooh !' said she y ' well, I have a Swiss lady that teaches
French, German, Spanish, and Italian, and an English one that
instructs in music and drawing, and I teach history, geography,
botany, and the sciences, and so on.'

" ' How on earth did you learn them all V said I, ' for it puzzles
me.'

" * Between yoii and me, Sam,' said she, ' for you know my
broughtens up,. and it's no use to pretend — ^primary books does it
all ; there is question and answer. I read the question, and they
learn the answer. It's the easiest thing in the world to teach new-
er days.'

" ' But suppose you get beyond the rudiments V
"' Oh, they never remain long enough to do that. They are
brought out before then. They go to Saratoga first in summer

FEHAL8 OOLLBOB8.

^*-<

!!';■

.^'V-

'»'«

and then to Washington in winter, and are married right off aftisr
that. The domestic, seclusive, and exclusiye system, is found mo»t
conducive to a high state of refinement and delicacy. I am doing
well, Sam,' said she, drawing nearer, and looking confidential in
my face. ^ I own all this college, and all the lands about, and have
laid up forty thousand dollars besides ;' and she nodded her head
at me, and looked earnest, as much as to say, * that is a fact, ain't
it grand V

" ' The devil you have !' said I, as if I had taken the bait. * I
had a proposal to make.'

" ' Oh,' said she, and she colored up all over, and got up and
said, ' Sam, won't you have a glass of wine, dear V She intendsd
it to give me courage to speak out, and she went to a closet and
brought out a tray with a decanter and two or three glasses on it,
and some frosted plumb-cake. *Try that cake, dear,' she said,.*!
made it myself, and your dear old mother taught me how to do
it ;' and then she laid back her head, and larfed like anvtblng.
* Sam,' said she, * what a memory you have ; I had forgot all about
the cherry-tree ; I don't recollect a word of it.'

« * And the calf,' said I.

" ' Get along,' said she, — ' do get out !' and she took up some
crumbs of the cake, and made 'em into a ball as big as a cberrv,
and fired it at me, and struck me in the eye with it, and nearly
put it out. She jumped up in a minit : * Did she hurt her own
poor cossy's eye V she said, * and put it een amost out,' and sbt
kissed it. ' It didn't hurt his little peeper much, did it V

" Hullo, sais I to myself, she's coming it too ;9tf«owerful strong
altogether. The sooner I dig out the better for my wholesomei.
However, let her wen^ — she is wrathy. •! came to propose to
you '

" ' Dear me,' said she, • I feel dreadful ; I wam't prepared for
this ; it's very unexpected. What is it, Sam ? I am all over of
a twiteration.'

" * I know you will refuse me,' sais I, * when I look round and
see how comfortable and how happy you are, even if you ain't
engaged.'

♦' ♦ Sam, I told you I weren't engaged,' she said ; * that story Oi
General 3mith 'm &1| a fabrication ^ therefore don't mention that
again.'

^' * I fbel,' said I^ ' it's no use, I know what you will say-^yon
^n't quit,'

*^ * You have a strange way,' said she, rather tart ; * for you osH
questions, and then ansvfrer thepi yourself, What (h you moM V

*' ^ Well,' sais I, ^ ril tell you, Wddy,'

*' ' Do, dear,' said she, and she put her hand over her tfy«i, op if
to stop her from heg.rin^ distinctly. * I came to propose to yott-*'

till
tQf

FEMALB OOLLEaBS

197

oifaAtr
ind moit
bm doing
ential in
and havo
her head
fact, iiln*t

bait ♦!

b up ftnd
intended
loset and
sses on it,
16 said^* I
low to do
anvtbing.
; all about

up tome

1 a oberrv,

nd nearly

her own

and sht

ful strong
lolesomei.
tropose to

spared for
EiU over of

round and
you aln'fe

&t story ot
mtion that

say— yoi»
}v yoa aik

«y#«, A9 If

»t6

" * Oh, Sam,' said she, * to think of that !' # ;^

** * To take a seat in my buggy,' sais I, * and come and spend a
month with sister Sally and me at the old location.'

** Poor thing, I pitied her ; she had one knee over the other,
•nd, AS 1 said, one hand over her eyes, and there she sot, and the
way the upper foot went bobbin' up and down was like the palsy,
only a little quicker. She never said another word, nor sighed,
nor groaned, nor anything, only her head hung lower. Well, I
felt streaked, Doctor, I tell you. I felt like a man who had stabbed
another, and knew he ought to be hanged for it ; and I looked at
her ai such a critter would, if he had to look on and see his enemy
bleed to death. I knew I had done wrong — I had acted spider-like
to her— got her into the web — tied her hand and foot, and tan-
talized her. I am given to brag, I know. Doctor, when 1 am in
the saddle, and up in the stirups, and leavin' all others behind ;
but when a beast is choked, and down in the dirt, no man ever
heard me brag I had rode the critter to death.

** No, I did wrong ; she was a woman, and I was a man, and if
ihe did act a part, why I ought to have known the game she had
to play, and made allowances for it. I dropt the trump-card under
the table that time, and, though I got the odd trick, she had the
honors. It wam't manly in me, that's a fact ; but, confound her,
why the plague did she call me * Mr.' and act formal, and give me
the bag to hold, when she knew me of old, and minded the cherry-
tree, and all that ? Still, she was a woman, and a defenceless one,
too, and 1 didn't do the pretty. But if she was a woman, Doctor,
ihe had more clear grit than most men have. After a while, she
took her hand off her eyes and rubbed them, and she opened her
mouth and yawned so you could see down to her garters amost.

** ' Dear me !' said she, trying to smile ; but, oh me ! how she
looked ! Her eyes had no more expression than a China aster,
and her face was so deadly pale it made the rouge she had put on
look like the hectic of a dying consumption. Her ugly was out
in fUll bloom, I tell you. ^ Dear cousin Sam,' said she, ' I am so
fatigued with my labors as presidentess of this institution, that I
ean hardly keep my peepers open. I think, if I recollect — for I
am ashamed to say 1 was a noddin'— that you proposed^ (that word
lit her eyes up) * that I should go with you to visit dear Sally.
Oh, Sam !' said she, (how she bit in her temper that hitch, didn't
ihe 1) ' you see, and you saw it at first, I can't leave on so short a
notieej but if my sweet Sally would come and visit me, how de-
lighted I should be ! Sam, I must join my class now. How
happy it has made me to see you again after so many years !
Kiss me, dear ; good-bye— -God bless you 1' and she yawned again
till she nearly dislocated her jaw. ' Go on and write books, Sam,
tor fid man is better skilled in human natur, and spares it less, than

•'i '

198

OIP8KTINO.

1,411

yourself.* What a reproachful look she gaVd tiie then ! * Good-
bye, dear !'

" Well, when I closed the door, and was opening of the outer
one, I heard a crash. I paused a moment, for [ knew what it was.
She had fainted, and fell into a conniption fit.

" * Sam,' sais I to myself, ' shall I go back V

" ' No,' sais I, ' if you return there will be a scene ; and if you
don't, if she can't account naterally for it, the devil can't, tliat's
all.'

" Doctor, I felt guilty, I tell you. I had taken a great many
rises out of folks in my time, but that's the only one I repent of.
Tell you what. Doctor, folks may talk about their southern gentle-
men, their New York prince merchants, and so on, but the clear
grit, bottom and game, is New England (Yankee-doodle-dum).
Male or female, young or old, I'll back 'em agin all creation."

Squire, show this chapter to Lord Tandembery, if you know
him ; and if you don't, Uncle Tom Lavender will give you a letter
of introduction to him ; and then ask him if ever he has suffered
half so much as Sam Slick has in the cause of edication.

.'\

"4.*- •■^« W

CHAPTER XV.
GIPSEYINQr '

r-ti

We tried the deck again, but the fog was too disagreeable to
remain there, for the water fell from the ropes in such large drops,
and the planks were so wet and slippery, we soon adjourned again
to the cabin. • -* si*,*^ <.- ^ . ? .^,

" I have to thank you, Doctor," said I, " for a most charming-
day at the Beaver Dam. That was indeed a day in the woods, and
I believe every one there knew how to enjoy it. How different it
is from people in a town here, who go out to the country for a pic-
nic. A citizen thinks the pleasure of gipseying, as they call it in
England, consists solely in the abundance and variety of the vianda,
the quality and quantity of the wines, and as near an approach to
a city dinner, as it is possible to have, where there are neither
tables nor chairs, side-boards, removes. He selects his place for
the encampment in the first opening adjoining the clearing, as it
commands a noble view of the harbor, and there is grass enough
to recline upon. The woods are gloomy, the footing is slippery,
and there is nothing to be seen in a forest but trees, windfalls which
8re difficult to elimb, aod bc^gy ground that wets your feet^ and

*Good-

he outer
kt it was.

d if you
't, that's

&t many
epent of.
n gentle-
the clear
lle-dum).
)n."

ou know
1 a letter
I suffered

.4 . X- U -

ieable to
ge drops,
led again

charming-
oods, and
fferent it
for a pic-
all it in
le viands,
)roach to
> neither
place for
ing, as it
IS enough
slippery,
^lls which
feet) and

OIF8ETINO,

190

makes you feel uncomfortable. The limbs are eternally knocking
your hat off, and the spruce gum ruins your clothes, while ladies,
like sheep, are forever leaving fragments of their dress on every
bush. He chooses the skirts of the forest, therefore, the background
is a glorious wood, and the fi)reground is diversified by the ship-
ping. Ihe o-heave-o of the sailors, as it rises and falls in the dis-
tance, is music to his ears, and suggestive of agreeable reflections,
or profitable conversation peculiarly appropriate to the place and
the occasion. The price of fish in the West Indies, or of deals in
Liverpool, or the probable rise of flour in the market, amuse the
vacant mind of himself and his partner, not his wife, fur she is only
his sleeping partner, but the vigilant partner of the firm, one of
those who are embraced in the comprehensive term the ' Co.* He
is the depository of his secrets, the other of his complaints.

" His wife is equally happy, she enjoys it uncommonly, for she
knows it will spite those horrid Mudges. She is determined* not to
invite them, for they make too much noise, it gives her the head-
ache, and their flirting is too bad. Mrs. White called them garri-
son hacks. And besides (for women always put the real reason
last — they live in a postscript) they don't deserve it, for they left
her girls out when they had the lobster spearing party by torch-
light, with the officers of the flag-ship, though that was no loss, for
by all accounts it was a very romping party, knocking off the men's
hats, and then exchanging their bonnets fur them. And how any
mother could allow her daughter to be held round the waist by
the flag-1! >utenant, while she leaned over the boat to spear the fish,
is a mystery to her. The polka is bad enough, but to her mind,
that is not decent, and then she has something to whisper about it,
that she says is too bad, (this is a secret though, and she must
whisper it, for walls have ears, and who knows but trees hav:, and
besides, the good things are never repeated, but the too bad &ivi nys
is), and Mrs. Black lifts up both her hands, and the whites of both
eyes in perfect horror.

" ' Now did you ever ! Oh, is that true ? Why, you dont !'

" * Lucy Green saw him with her own eyes,' and she opens her
own as big as saucers. '. '

" * And what did Miss Mudge say V

" ' Well, upon my word,' said she, ' I wonder what you will do
next,' and laughed so they nearly fell overboard.'

" ' Oh, what carryings on, ain't it, dear. But I wonder where
Sarah Matilda is ? I dcui't see her and Captain de la Cour. I am
afraid she will 'get lost in the woods, and that would make people
talk as they did about Miss Mudge and Doctor Vincent, who
couldn't find their way out once till nine o'clock at night.'

" They'll soon get back, dear,' sais the other, * let them be, it
looks like watching them, and you know,' laying an emphasis oa

iii:

200

OIP8ETING.

' ,<>

yoUf * you and I were young onee ourselves, and so they will come
back when they want to, for thou^ the woods have no straight
paths in them, they have short cuts enough for them that's in a
nurry. Cupid has no watch^ dear ; his fob is for a purse^* and she
smiles wicked on the mother of the heiress.

" Well, then, who can say this is not a pleasant day to both
parties. The old gentlemen have their nice snug business chat, and
the old ladies have their nice snug gossip chat, and the third estate,
(as the head of the firm calls it, who was lately elected member fur
Grumble Town, and begins to talk parliamentary,) the third estate,
the young folks, the people of progression, who are not behind but
rather ahead of the age they live in, don't they enjoy themselves ?
It is very hard if youth, beauty, health, good spirits, and a desire
to please, (because if people havn't that they had better stay to
home) can't or won't make people happy. I don't mean fbr to go
for to say, that will ensure it, because nothin' is certain, and I have
known many a gall that ^resembled a bottle of beautiful wine. You
will find one sometimes as enticin' to appearance as ever was, but
shake it up and there is grounds there fbr all that, settled, but still-
there, and enough too to spile all, so you can't put it to your lips
any how yon can fix it» What a pity it is sweet thmgs turn sour,
ain't it.

"But in a general way these things will make folks happy.
There are some sword knots there, and they do look very like
woodmen, that's a fact. If you never saw a fbrrester, you would
swear to them as perfect. A wide-awake hat, with a little short
pipe stuck in it, a pair of whiskers that will be grand when they
are a few years older— a coarse check, or red flannel shirt, a loose
neckhandkerchief, tied with a sailor's knot — a cut-away jacket, with
lots of pockets — a belt, but little or no waistcoat — homespun
trowsers and thick buskins — a rough glove and a delicate white
hand, the real, easy, and natural gait of the woodman, (only it's
apt to.be a little, just a little too stiff, on account of the ramrod
they have to keep in their throats while on parade,) when com-
bined, actilly beat natur, for they are too nateral. Oh, these
amateur woodsmen enact their parts so M'ell, you think you almost
see the identical thing itselfl And then they have had the advan-
tage of Woolitch or Sandhurst, or Chobham, and are dabs at a
bivouac, grand hands with an axe — cut a hop-pole down in half a-
day amost, and in the other half stick it into the ground. I don't
make no doubt in three or four days they could build a wigwam
to sleep in, and cme night out of four under cover is a great deal
for an amateur hunter, though it ain't the smallest part of a cir>
cumstance to the Crimea. As it is, if a stick ain't too big for a
fire, say not larger than your finger, they can break it over their
knee, sooner than you could cut it with a hatchet for your life» and

OIPSETxMO.

201

urill come
r straight
lat's in a
' and she

r to both
ch»t, and
rd estate,
smber for
rd estate,
ehind but
rmselves ?
i a desire
sr stay to
for to go
nd I have
ine. You
vfas, but
I, but still
your lips
;um sour,

is happy,
very like
ou would
ttle short
rhen they
pt, a loose
«ket, with
homespun
jate white

(only it's
le ramrod
'hen com-
Oh, these
ou almost
he advan-
dabs at a

in half a-
. I don't
» wigwam
^reat deal
t of a cir-
) big for a
over their
ir ltfe» and

see how soon it's in a blaze. Take them altogether they are a kil-
ling party of coons them, never miss a moose if they shoot out of
an Indian's gun, and use a silver bullet.

" Well, then, the young ladies are equipped so nicely — they have
uglies to their bonnets, the only thing ugly about them, for at a
distance they look like huge green spectacles. They are very
useful in the forest, for there is a great glare of the sun generally
under trees, or else they have green bonnets, that look like eagle's
skins — thin dresses, strong ones are too heavy, and they don't dis-
play the beauty of nature enough, they are so high, and the whole
object of the party is to admire that. Their walking shoes are
light and thin, they don't fatigue you like coarse ones, and
India-rubbers are hideous, they make your feet as if they had the
gout, and they have such pretty, dear little aprons, how rural it
looks altogether — they act a day in the woods to admiration.
Three of the officers have nicknames, a very nice thing to induce
good fellowship, especially as it has no tendency whatever to pro-
mote quarrels. There is Lauder, of the rifles, he is so short, they
call him Pistol, he has a year to grow yet, and may become a great
gun some of thene days. Russel takes a joke good humoredly and
therefore is so fortunate as to get more than his share of them, ac-
cordingly he goes by the name of Target, as every one takes a shot at
him. Duke is so bad a shot, he has twice nearly pinked the
marksman, so he is called Trigger. He always lays the b\ame of
his want of skill on that unfortunate appendage of the gun, as it is
either too hard or too quick on the finger. Then there is young
Bulger, and as everybody pronounces it as if it had two * g's' in it,
he corrects them and says ' g' soft, my dear fellow, if you please ;
so he goes by the name of ' G' soft. Oh, the conversation of the
third estate is so pretty, I could listen to it for ever.

" ' Aunt,' sais Miss Diantha, * do you know what gyp — gypsy —
gypsy mum — gypsy muming is? Did you ever hear how I stutter
to-day ? I can't get a word out hardly. Aint it provoking 1 "

"Well, stammering is provoking ; but a pretty little accidental
impediment of speech like that, accompanied with a little graceful
bob of the head, is very taking, ain't iti '

" ' Gypsuming,' sais the wise matron, ' is the plaster of Paris
trade, dear. They carry it on at Windsor, your father says.'

" Pistol gives Target a wink, for they are honoring the party by
their company, though the mother of one keeps a lodging house at
Bath, and the father of the other makes real genuine East India
curry in London. They look down on the whole of the tovras-
people. It is natural ; pot always calls kettle an ugly name.

" ' No, Ma,' sais Di — all the girls address her as Di ; ain't it a
pretty abbreviation for a die-away young lady ? But she is not a
die-away lass ; she is more of a Di Vernon. " No, Ma,' sais Di,

209

6IP0BTINO

My.

I-

< . ,\'

%> .,.:;• I ,

* gipsey — ing, what a hard word it is ! Mr. Russel says it's what
they call these parties in England. It is so like the gipsy life.*

" ' There is one point,' sais Pistol, ' in which they differ.'
"♦ What's that?' saisDi. ' "^ ...... ^r fi

"' Do you give it up r ' u

• «*Yes.'

' " * There the gipsy girls steal poultry ; and here they steal
hearts,' and he puts his left hand by mistake on his breast, not
knowing that the pulsation there indicates his lungs, and not his
gizzard, is affected — that he is broken-iM'nd(0</, and not broken-
hedrted.

u i Very good,* every one sais ; but still every one hasn't heard
it, so it has to be repeated ; and what is worse, as the habits of the
gipsies are not known to all, the point has to be explained.

" Target says, ' he will send it to the paper, and put Trigger's
name to it,' and Pistol says, ' that is capital, for if he calls you out,
he can't hit you,' and there is a joyous laugh. Oh dear, but a day
in the woods is a pleasant thii^. For my own part, I must say I
quite agree with the hosier, who, when he first went to New Or-
leens, and saw such a swad of people there said, he * didn't onder-
stand how on earth it was that folks liked to live in a heap that
way, altogether, where there was no com to plant, and no bears to
kill.'

** * My, oh my !' says Miss Letitia, or Let-kiss-you, as Pistol used
to call her. People ought to be careful what names they give their
children, so as folks can't fasten nicknames on 'em. Before others,
the girls called her Letty, and that's well enough ; but sometimes
Ihey would call her Let, which is the devil. If a man can't give a
pretty fortune to his child, he can give it a pretty DAme, at any
rate.

" There was a very large fitmily of Cards wunst to Slickville.
They were mostly in the stage-coach and livery-stable liQe, and
careless, reckless sort of people. So one day. Squire Zenas Card
bad a christenin' at his house.

*' Says the Minister, * what shall I call him V

" * Pontius Pilate,' said he.

" ' I can't,' said Minister, ^ and I wont. No soul ever heerd of
such a name for a Christian sincie baptism came in fashion.*

" * I am sorry for that,' said the Squire, * for it's a mighty pretty
name. I heard it once in church, and I thought if ever I had a son
I'de call him after him ; but if I can't have that — and it's a dread*
ful pity — call him trump ;' and he was christened Trump Card.

" * Oh my !' sais Miss Letitia, lispin', ' Captain de la Cour has
smashed my bonnet, see he is setting upon it. Did you ever*?*

" * Never,' said Di, * he has converted your cottage bonnet into a
coun^ «ea^, I do declare !' ..>

tall

OIPBKTINO.

808

9 what

re.'

steal
6t, not
not his
>roken-

heard
of the

rigger's
ou out,
aday
St say I
[ew Or-
t onder-
^p that
bears to

itol used
ive their
9 others,
metimes
't give a
), at any

lickville.
\l^e, and
las Card

heerd of

I.'

ty pretty

[lad a son

i a dread*

Card.

Cour has

5Vfer.1'

\et into a

** Everybody exclaimed, ' that is excellent,' and Russel said,
•capital, by Jove,'

** ' Hiat kind of thing,' said de la Cour, ' is more honored in the
breach^ than the observances^ and winked to Target.

" Miss Di is an inveterate punster, so she returns to the charge.

" * Letty, what fish is that, the name of which would express ail
you said about your bonnet ? — do you give it up ] A bonnet-o I*
(Boneto).

" * Well, I t»xCt fathom that,' sais De la Cour.

" * I don't wonder at that,' says the invincible Di ; 'It is beyond
your depths for '^ is an out of aoundingt fish.'

" Poor De la Cour, you had better let her alone, she is too many
guns jfbr you. Scratdi your head, for your curls and your name are
all that you have to be proud of. Let her alone, she is wicked, and
she is meditating a name for you and Pistol, that will stick to you
as lung as you live ; she has it on the tip of her tongue : * The
babes in the wood.'

" Now for the baskets — now for the spread. The old gentlemen
break up their Lloyds' meeting — the old ladies break up their
scandal club — the young ladies and their beaux are busy in arrange-
ments, and though the corkscrews lU'e nowhere to be found. Pistol
has his in one of the many pockets of his woodman's coat, he never
goes without it, (like one of his mother's waiters), which he calls
his ' young man's best companion,' and whidi another, who was a
year in an attorney's office, while waiting for his commission, calls
* the crown circuit assistant,' and a third, who has just arrived in a
steamer designates as * the »crtw propellers it was a sensible provi-
sion, and Miss Di said ' a corkscrew and % pocket pistol were better
suited to him than a rifle,' and every one said it was a capital joke
that — for everybody likes a shot that don't hit themselves.

" * How tough the goose is !' sais G soft. ' I can't carve it,'

" ' Ah !' sais Di, * when Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug
of war.'

" Eating and talking lasts a good while, but they don't last for
ever. The ladies leave the gentlemen to commence their smoking,
and finish their drinking, and presently there is a loud laugh ; it's
more than a laugh, it's a roar ; and the ladies turn round and won-
der. ^^ -^■,, ■

" Letty sais, * when the wine is in, the wit is out.'

" True,' sais Di, ' the wine is there, but when you left them, the
wit went out.'

"' Rather severe,' said Letty.

" * Not at all,' sais Di, ' for I was with you.'

" It is the last shot of poor Di. She won't take the trouble to
talk well for ladies, and those horrid Mudges have a party on pur-
pose to take away all the pleasant men. She never passed so

204

GiPSETiira.

stupid a day. She hates picnics, and will never go to one again.
De la Cour is a fool, and is as full of airs As a night hawk is of
feathers. Pistol is a bore ; Tai^get is both poor and stingy ; Trig-
ger thinks more of himself than anybody else ; and as for G soft
he is a goose. She will never speak to Pippen again for not com-
ing. They are a poor set of devils in the garrison ; she is glad
they are to have a new regiment.

" Letty hasn't enjoyed herself, either, she has been devoured by
black flies and musquitoes, and has got her feet wet, and is so tired
she can't go to the ball. The sleeping partner of the head of the
firm is out of sorts, too. Her crony-gossip gave her a sly poke
early in the day, to show her she recollected when she was young
(not that she is so old now, either, for she knows the grave gentle-
man who visits at her bouse is said to like the mother better than
the daughter) but before she was married, and friends who have
such wonderful memories are not very pleasant companions, though
it don't do to have them for enemies. But then, poor thing, and
she consoles herself with the idea the poor thing has daughters her-
selfj and they are a» ugly as sin, and not half so agreeable. But
it isn't that altogether. Sarah Matilda should not have gone wan-
dering out of hearing with the Captain, and she must give her a
piece of her mind about it, for there is a good deal of truth in the
old saying, ' if the girls won't run afler the men, the men will run
after them }* so she calls out loudly, * Sarah Matilda. Love, come
here, dear,' and Sarah Matilda knows when the honey is produced,
physic is to be taken ; but she knows she is under observation, and
so she flies to her dear mamma, with the feet and face of an ange),
and they gradually withdraw.

" ' Dear ma, how tired you look.'

" ' I am not tired, dear.'

" * Well, you dcm't look well ; is anything the matter with
youl'

" * I didn't say I wasn't well, and it's very rude to remark on
one's looks that way,'

" ' Something seems to have put you out of sorts, ma, I will run
and call pa. Dear me, I feel frightened. Shall I ask Mrs. Baw-
don for her salts V

" ' You know very well what's the matter : it's Captain De la
Cour.'

" ' Well, now, how strange,' said Sarah Matilda. * I told him
he had better go and walk with you ; I wanted him to do it ; I told
him you liked attention. Yes, I knew you would be angry, but it
isn't my fault. It ain't indeed.'

" ' Well, I am astonished,' replies the horrified mo-ther. . ' I
never in all my life. So you told him I liked attention. I, your
mother, your father's wife, with my position in socielefj and pray
what answer did he make to this strange conduct V

OIFSBTXyG'

205

le again,
kwk is of
y ; Trig-
r G soft
not com-
e is glad

Dured hj
9 so tired
ad of the
sly poke
as young
ire gentle-
tter than
!rho have
ts, though
;hing, and
bters her-
ble. But
Tone wan-
ive her a
ith in the
I will run
ore, come
produced,
ation, and
an ange),

itter with

emark on

I will run
»Irs. Baw-

ain De la

told him
it; Itoid

[ry, but it

ther. . 'I

I, your

, and pray

"'He said; no wonder, you were the handsomest woman in
town, and so acreeable ; the only one fit to talk to.'

" * And you nave the face to admit you listened to such stuff.*

" * I could listen all day to it, ma, for I knew it was true. I
never law you look so lovely, the new bishop has improved your
Appearance amazingly.*

" * Whol' said the mother, with an hysterical scream ; * what do
you mean V

♦♦ * The new bustler, ma.'

" * Oh,' said she, quite relieved, *oh, do you think sol*

" * But what did you want of me, ma.'

" * Tu fasten my gown, dear, there is a hook come undone.'

♦* ♦ Coming,' she said, in a loud voice.

"There was nobody calling, but somebody ought to have
called} so she fastens the hook, and flies back as fast as she
came.

"Sarah Matilda, you were not bom yesterday; first you put
your mother on the defensive, and then you stroked her down with
the grain, and made her feel good all over, while you escaped from
a scolding you know you deserved. A jealous mother makes an
artful daughter. But Sarah Matilda, one word in your ear. Art
ain't cleverness, and cunning ain't understanding. Semblance
only answers once ; the second time the door ain't opened to it.

" Henrietta is all adrift, too ; she is an old maid, and Di nick-
named her ' tlie old hen.' She has been shamefully neglected to-
day. The young men have been flirting about with those forward
young girls — children — mere children, and have not had the
civility to exchange a word with her. The old ladies have been
whispering gossip all day, and the old gentlemen busy talking
about fVeights, the Fall-catch of maoarel, and ship-building. Nor
could their talk have been solely confined to these subjects, for once
when she approached them, she heard the head of the firm say :

" ' The " lovely lass" must be thrown down and scraped, for she
is so foul, and her knees are all gone.'

" And so she turned away in disgust. Catch her at a pic-nic
again t No, never ! It appears the world is changed ; girls in her
day were never allowed to romp that way, and men used to have
some manners. Things have come to a pretty pass !

" ♦ Allda, is that you, dear 1 You look dull.'

" 'Oh, Henrietta! I have torn mv beautiful thread lace mantilla
all to rags i it's ruined for ever. And do you know — oh, / don't
know how I shall ever dare to face ma again ! I have lost her beau-
tifiil little enamelled watch. Some of these horrid branches have
pulled it ofl* the chain.' And Alida cries and is consoled by
Henrietta, who is a good-natured creature after all. She tells her
for her comfort that nobody should ever think of wearing a delicate

20d

GIP8ETIN0.

"' I

^^ ^1

and expensive lace mantilla in the woods ; she could not expect
anything else than to have it destroyed ; and as for exposing a
beautiful gold watch outside of her dress, nobody in her senses
would have thought of such a thing. Of course she was greatly
comforted : kind words and a kind manner will console any one.

" It is time now to re-assemble, and the party are gathered once
more ; and the ladies have found their smiles again, and Alida has
found her watch ; and there are to be some toasts and some songs
before parting. All is jollity once more, and the head of the firm
and his vigilant partner, and the officers have all a drop in their
eye, and Henrietta is addressed by the junior partner, who is a
bachelor of about her own age, and who assures her he never saw
her look better ; and she looks delighted, and is delighted, and
thinks a pic-nic not so bad a thing after all.

" But there is a retributive justice in this world. Even pic-nic
parties have their moral, and folly itself affords an example from
which a wise saw may be extracted. Captain De Courcy addresses
her, and after all he has the manners and appearance of a gentle-
man, though it is whispered he is fond of practical jokes, pulls 'colt
ensigns' out of bed, makes them go through their sword exercise
standing shirtless in their tubs, and so on. There is one re-
deeming thing in the story, if it be true, he never was known to
do it to a young nobleman ; he is too well bred for that. He
talks to her of society as it was before good-breeding was reformed
out of the colonies. She is delighted ; but, oh ! was it stupidity,
or was it insolence, or was it cruelty ? he asked her if she recollect-
ed the Duke of Kent. To be sure it is only fifty-two years since
he was here ; but to have recollected him ! How old did he
suppose she was ? She bears it well and meekly. It is not the
first time she has been painfully reminded she was not young. She
says her grandmother often spoke of him as a good officer and a
handsome man ; and she laughs though her heart aches the while,
as if it was a good joke to ask fier. He backs out as soon as he
can. He meant well though he had expressed himself awkwardly ;
but to back out shows you are in the wrong stall, a place you
have no business in, and being out, he thinks it as well to jog on
to another place.

" Ah Henrietta ! you were unkind to Alida about her lace
mantilla and her gold watch, and it has come home to you. You
ain't made of glass, and nothing else will hold vinegar long without
being corroded itself.

" Well, the toasts are drunk, and the men are not far from being
drunk too, and feats of agility are proposed, and they jump up
and catch a springing bow, and turn a somerset on it, or ovet it,
and they are cheered and applauded when De Courcy pauses
ia mid-air for a moment, as if uncertain what to do. Has the

((

GIPSETINO.

207

expect
tosing a

senses
greatly

one.
ed once
lida has
le songs
the firm
in their
rho is a
ver saw
;ed, and

a. pic-nio
)le from
ddresses
Et gentle-
tils 'colt
exercise

one re-
:nown to
lat. He
reformed
tupidity,
•ecollect-
ars since
I did he

not the
ing. She
ler and a
le while,
>on as he
Lwardly ;
ace you
o jog on

her lace

u. You

without

Dm being
ump up
r ovet it,
^ pauses
Has the

bough given way, or was that the sound of cloth rtnt in twalti^
Something has gone wrong, for he is greeted with uproarious
cheers by the men, and he drops on his feet, and retires from the
company as from the presence of royalty, by bAolcing ottt and
bowing as he goes, repeatedly stumbling, and onod or twi€« falling
in his retrograde motion.

*' Ladies never lose their tact — they ask no questiotli because
they see something is amiss, and though it ii hard to lubdue
curiosity, propriety sometimes restrains it. Tlie^ join in the
general laugh, however, for it can be nothing Mrious wtiere his
friends make merry with it. When he retires from view, his
health is drank with three times three. Di, wiio ieem@4 to take
pleasure in annoying the spinster, said she Imd a jp;reAt mind not to
join in that toast, for he was a loose fellow, otfierwiid he would
have rent his heart and not his garments. It is a pity a clever
girl like her will let her tongue run that way, for it l@aas them to
say things they ought not. Wit in a woman is a 4ang@rotis thing,
like a doctor^s lancet, it is apt to be employed about matters that
offend our delicacy, or hurt our feelings."

"'What the devil is that V said the head of the firm, looking up,
as a few drops of rain fell. 'Why, here is a thunder shower
coming on us as sure as the world. Come, let us paek up and
be off.'

" And the servants are urged to be expeditious, and the sword
knots tumblo the glass into the baskets, and the eold hams a top
of them, and break the decanters to make them stow better, and
the head of the firm swears, and the sleeping partner save she will
faint, she could never abide thunder ; and Di tells her if she does
not want to abide all night, she had better move, and a vivid flash
of lightning gives notice to quit, and tears and soreams attest the
notice is received, and the retreat is commenced} but alfli, the car-
riages are a mile and a half off, and the tempest rages and the rain
falls in torrents, and the thunder stuns them, and the lightning
blinds them.

'"What's the use of hurrying,' says Di, *we are now wet
through, and our clothes are spoiled, and I think we might take it
leisurely. Pistol, take my arm, I am not afraid of you flow/

"'Whyr

" ' Your powder is wet, and you can't go off. You are quite
harmless. Target, you had better run.'

"'Why?'

" * You will be sure to be hit, if you don't— won*t he. Trigger V

" But Pistol, and Target, and Trigger are alike silent, <i soft
has lost his softness^ and lets fall some hard terms, ISvery one
holds down his head, why, I can't understand, because boing soaked,
that attitude can't dry them.

208

OIP8BTINO»

ilti
1 i

. I' '1 .'

" * Uncle,' says Di, to the head of the firm, * you appear to enjoy
it, you are buttoning up your coat as if you wanted to keep the
rain in.'

" ' I wish you would keep your tongue in,' he said gruffly.

" ' I came for a party of pleasure,' said the unconquerable girl,
* and I think there is great fun in this. Hen, I feel sorry for you,
you can't stand the wet as those darling ducks can. Aunt will
shake herself directly, and be as dry as an India rubber model.'

" Aunt is angry, but can't answer — every clap of thunder makes
her scream. Sarah Matilda has lost her shoe, and the water has
closed over it, and she can't find it. * Pistol, where is your cork-
screw, draw it out.' "

" * It's all your fault,' sais the sleeping partner, to the head of
the firm, ' I told you to bring the umbrellas.'

" ' It's all yours,' retorts the afflicted husband, ' I told you these
things were all nonsense and more trouble than they were worth.'

" ' It's all Hen's fault,' said Di, * for we came on purpose to
bring her out ; she had never been at a picnic before, and it's holi-
days now. Oh ! the brook has risen, and the planks are gone, we
shall have to wade ; Hen, ask those men to go before, I don't like
them to see above my ankles.'

" ' Catch me at a picnic again,' said the terrified spinster.

" * You had better get home from this first, before you talk of
another,' sais Di.

" ' Oh, Di, Di,' said Henrietta, * how can you act so V

" 'You may say Di, Di, if you please, dear,' said the tormentor;
*but I never say die— and never will while there is life in me.
Letty, will you go to the ball to-night ? we shall catch cold if we
don't ; for we have two miles more of the rain to endure in the
open carriages before we reach the ferry-boat, and we shall be
chilled when we cease walking.'

" But Lett} can do nothing but cry as if she wasn't wet enough
already.

" ' Good gracious !' sais the head of the house, * the horses have
overturned the carriage, broke the pole, and run away.'

" ' What's the upset price of it, I wonder V sais Di, * the horses
will make their election sure,' they are at the ' head of the pole^ as
they have left no trace behind. I wish they had taken the rain
with them also.'

" ' It's a pity you wouldn't rein your tongue in also,' said the
fractious uncle.

" * Well, I will Nunky, if you will restrain your choler. De
Courcy, the horses are off at a ' smashing pace ;' G soft, it's all
dickey with us now, aint it ? But that milk-sop^ Russel, is m'aking
a noise in his boots, as if he was ' churning butter.' Well, I
never enjoyed anything so much as this in my life ; I do wish the

by.

THE WOBLD BBFOBB THB FLOOD.

209

to enjoy
keep the

ay.

able girl,
for you,
Lunt "will
lodel.*
er makes
rater has
our cork-

) head of

you these
•e worth.'
urpose to
i it's holi-
i gone, we
don't like

;er.

[>u talk of

ormentor;
ife in me.
cold if we
ure in the
e shall be

iret enough

lorses have

the horses
the pole, as
a the rain

D,' said the

^holer. De
oft, it's all
, is m'aking
.' Well, I
lo wish the

Mudges had been here, it is the only thing wanting to make this
picnic perfect. What do you say. Target V

" But Target don't answer, he only mutten. between his teeth
something that sounds like, ' what a devil that girl is !' Nobody
minds teaziug now ; their tempers arc subdued, and they are dull,
weary, and silent — dissatisfied with themselves, with each other,
and the day of pleasure.

" How could it be otherwise ? It is a thing they didn't under-
stand, and had no taste for. They took a deal of trouble to get
away from the main road as far as possible ; they never penetrated
farther into the forest than to obtain a shade, and there eat an
uncomfortable cold dinner, sitting on the ground, had an ill-
assorted party, provided no amusements, were thoroughly bored,
and drenched to the skin — and this some people call a day in the
bush.

" There is an Id proverb, that has a hidden meaning in it, that
is applcable to this sort of thing — * As a man calleth in the woodSf
so it shall be answered to himj'"

CHAPTER XVI.
THE WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.

We made another attempt at walking on the deck — the moon
was trying to struggle through the fog, which was now of a bright
copper color.

" Doctor," said I, " have you ever seen a yellow fog, before ?"

" Yes," he said, " I have seen a white, black, red, and yellow
fog," and went off into a disquisition about optics, mediums, reflec-
tions, refractions, and all sorts of scientific terms.

Well I don't like hard words, when you crack them, which is
plaguy tough work, you have to pick the kernel out with a cam-
bric needle, and unless it's soaked in wine, like the heart of a hick-
ory nut is, it don't taste nice and don't pay you for the trouble.
So to change the subject, " Doctor," sais 1, " how long is this ever-
lasting mullatto lookin' fog a^oin' to last, for it ain't white and it
ain't black, but kind of betwixt and between."

Sais he, and he stopped and listened a moment, " it will be gone
by twelve o'clock to-night."

" What makes you think so ?" said I.

" Do you hear that?" said he.

" Yes," sais I, "I do ; it's children a playin and a chatterin' in

liC

210

THB WORLD BEFOBB THE FLOOD.

( 'ii

French. Now it*s nateral they should talk French, seein* tbdir
parents do. Fathers tote their young ones about, and motberf
scold them in it — therefore they call it the mother tongue, for old
wives are like old hosses, they are all tongue, and when their teeth
is gone, that unruly member grows thicker and bigger, for it hm ft
larger bed to stretch out in — not that it ever sleeps much, but it
has a larger sphere of action — do you take ? I don t know whether
you have had this feeling of surprise, but I have, to hear those
little imps talk French, when to save your soul, you can't jabber it
that way yourself. In course of nature they must talk that lingo,
for they are quilted in French — kissed i" French — fed in French— «
and put to bed in French — and told to pray to the Virgin in French }
for that's the language she loves best. She knows a great man v
languages, but she can't speak English since Henry the Eighth'i
time, when she said to him, " you be fiddled," which meant, tbd
Scotch should come with their fiddles, and rule England.

" Still somehow I feel strange, when these little critters address
me in it, or when women use it to me (tho' I don't mind so much,
for there are certain freemason signs the fair sex understand All
over the world,) but the men puzzle me like Old Scratch, and I
oflen say to myself, what a pity it is the critters can't speak
English. I never pity myself for not being able to jabber French,
but I blush for their ignofance. However, all this is neither here
nor there. Now, Doctor, how can you tell this fog is booked fur
the twelve o'clock train. Is there a Bradshaw for weather ?"

" Yes," said he, " there is, do you hear that ?"

" I don't hear nothing," sais I, " but two Frenchmen ashore a
jawing like mad. One darsent, and tother is afraid to fight, m
they are taking it out in gab— they ain't worth listening to. How
do they tell you the weather ?"

" Oh," said he, " it aint them ! Do you hear the falls at my
lake 'i the west wind brings that to us. When I arn there and the
rote is on the beach, it tells me it is the voice of the south wind
giving notice of rain. All nature warns me. The swallow, the
pig, the goose, the fire on the hearth, the soot in the flue, the smoke
of the chimney, the rising and setting sun, the white frost, the stftrf
—all, all tell me."

" Yes," sais I, " when I am to home, I know all them signs,"

" The spider too is my guide, and the ant. But the little pirn*
pernel, the poor man's weather glass, and the convolvulus art
truer than any barometer, and a glass of water never lies."

" Ah, Doctor," said I, " you and 1 read and study the same book.
I don't mean to assert we are as Sorrow says, nateral childreil^ but
we are both children of nature, and honor our parents. I agree
with you about the fog, but I wanted to see if you could answer
signals with me. I am so glad you have come on board. You

n' thdlr
motbera
, for old
3ir tmth
ithmtk
I, but it
whether
ar thofid
jabber it
lat UngOf

French ;

lat mmy

Eighth^s

eant, tbt

3 address
so mueb.
rstand aU
ch, and I
n't speak
r French,
ither here
boked fov

ashore a
> fight, so
to. How

Us at my
re and the
outh wind
allow, tbi
the smol^i
the start

signs,"
little pinv-
Ivulus ard

lame bool(,
ildrerf^ but
). I agre@
lid answer
lard. You

THB WORLD BEFOBB THB FLOOD.

211

want Amusement, I want instruction. I will swap stories with you,
for bits of your wisdom, and as you won't take boot, I shall be a
great gainer."

After a good deal of such conversation, we went below, and in
du@ season turned in, in a place where true comfort consists in ob-
livion. The morning, as the Doctor predicted, was clear, the fog
yf&§ gone, and the little French village lay before us in all the
b@atity of ugliness. The houses were small, unpainted, and unin-
viting. Fish flakes were spread on the beach, and the women were
busy in turning the cod upon them. Boats were leaving the shore
for the fishing-ground. Each of these was manned by two or three
or four hands, who made as much noise as if they were getting a
vessel under weigh, and were severally giving orders to each other
with a rapidity of utterance, that no people but Frenchmen are
eapable of.

** Every nation," said the Doctor, " has its peculiarity, but the
French Acadians excel all others in their adherence to their own
ways 'f and in this particular, the Chesencookers surpass even their
own countrymen. The men all dress alike, and the women all
dr@ss alike, as you will pres(dntly see, and always have done so
within the memory of man. A round, short jacket which scarcely
covers the waistcoat, trowsers that seldom reach below the ankle-
joint, and yarn stockings, all four being blue, and manufactured at
home, and apparently dyed in the same tub, with moccasins for
th§ feet, and a round fur or cloth cap to cover the head, constitute
the uniform and unvaried dress of the men. The attire of the
women is equally simple. The short gown which reaches to the
hip, and the petticoat which serves for a skirt, both made of a coarse
domestic cloth, having perpendicular blue and white stripes, consti-
tute the difference of dress that marks the distinction of the sexes,
if wo except a handkerchief thrown over the head, and tied under
iiie chin, for the blue stockings and the moccasins are common to
both, males and females.

There has been no innovation for a century in these particulars,
unless it be that a hat has found its way into Chesencook, not that
sueb a stove-pipe looking thing as that, has any beauty in it ; but
the boys of Halifax are not to be despised, if a hat is, and even an
©urang-outrang if he ventured to walk about the streets would have
to submit to wear one. But the case is different with women, es-
peeittliy modest, discreet, unobtrusive women, like those of the
' lotig shore French.' They are stared at because they dress like
those in the world before the flood, but it's an even chance if the
flUtedlluvian damsels were half so handsome ; and what pretty girl
cm find it in her heart to be very angry at attracting attention ?
Yes, their simple manners, their innocence and their sex are their
l^rottsotion. But no cap, bonnet, or ribbon ; velvet, muslin, or lace,

■

If:

212

THB WOBLD BBFOBB THB FLOOD.

was ever seen at Chesencook. Whether this neglect of finery (the
love of which is so natural to their countrywomen in Europe,) arises
from a deep-rooted veneration for the ways of their predecessors,
or from the sage counsel of their spiritual instructors, who desire
to keep them from the contamination of the heretical world around
them, or from the conviction that

** The adorning thee with bo much art
Is but a barbarous skill,
'Tis like the barbing of a dart,
Too apt before to kill."

h '.

11 ii'

■.V '■

I know not, but such is the fact nevertheless, and you ought to
record it, as an instance in which they have shown their superiority
to this universal weakness. Still both men and women are decently
and comfortably clad. There is no such thing as a ragged Acadian,
and I never yet saw one begging his bread. Some people are dis-
tinguished for their industry, others for their idleness, some for
their ingenuity, and others for their patience, but the great
characteristic of an Arcadian is talk, and his talk is from its novelty
amusmg and instructive even in its nonsense.

" These people live close to the banks where cod are found, and
but little time is required in proceeding to the scene of their labor ;
therefore there is no necessity for being in a hurry, and there is
lots of time for palaver. Every boat has an oracle in it, who
speaks with an air of authority. He is a great talker, and a great
smoker, and he chats so skilfully, that he enjoys his pipe at the
same time, and manages it so as not to interrupt his jabbering.
He can smoke, talk, and row at once. He don't smoke fast, for
that puts his pipe out by consuming his tobacco ; nor row fast, for
it fatigues him. '

" Exactly," sais I ; " but the tongue, I suppose, having, like a
clock, a locomotive power of its own, goes like one of my wooden
ones, for twenty-four hours without ceasing, and like one of them
also, when it's e'en amost worn out and up in years, goes at the
rate of one hundred minutes to the hour, strikes without counting
the number, and gives good measure, banging away often twenty
times at one o'clock."

Every boat now steered for the " Black Hawk," and the oracle
stopped talking French, to practise English. "How you do,
Sarel how you do your wife?" said Lewis Le Blanc, address-
ing me. ■

" I have no wife."

"No wife, tom pee'? Who turn your fish for you, den?"
Whereat they all laugh, and all talk French again. And the
oracle says, " he takes his. own eggs to market, den !'' He don't

nil i

finery (tba
»pe,) arises
edecessors,
virho desire
rid around

u ought to
superiority
kre decently
id Acadian,
iple are dis-
}, some for
I the great
I its novelty

found, and
their labor ;
^d there is
> in it, who
and a great
pipe at the
jabbering,
oke fast, for
•ow fast, for

,ving, like a
my wooden
)ne of them
goes at the
)ut counting
>ften twenty

d the oracle
aw you do,
mc, address-

you, den*?"
And the
He don't

TH^^ WOBLP BEFORE THE FLOOD,

218

laugh At that, for wits never laugh at their own jokes ; but the rest
snicker till they scream.

" What wind are we going to have, Lewis'?" '"

Oracle stands up, carefully surveys the sky, and notices all the
signs, and then looks wise, and answers in a way that there can be
no mistake. *' Now you see, Sare, if de wind blow off de shore,
den it will be west wind ; if it blow from de sea, den it will be
east wind ; and if it blow down coast," pointing to each quarter
with his hand, like a weather-cock, " den it will sartain be sout ;
and up de coast, den you will be sartain it will come from de nort.
1 never knew dat sign fail.'* And he takes his pipe from his
mouth, knocks some ashes out of it and spits in the water, as much
as to say, now 1 am ready to swear to that. And well he may,
fur it amounts to this, that the wind will blow fiom any quarter it
comes from. The other three all regard him with as much respect,
as if he was clerk of the weather.

" Interesting people these. Doctor," said I, " aint they ? It's the
world before the flood. I wonder if they know how to trade 1
Barter v/as the primitive traffick. Com was given for oil, and fish
for honey, and sheep and goats for oxen and horses, and so on.
There is a good deal of trickery in barter, too, for necessity has
no laws. The value of money we know, and a thing is worth what
it will fetch in cash ; but swapping is a different matter. It's a
horse of a different color."

" You will find," said the Doctor, " the men (I except the other
sex always) are as acute as you are at a bargain. You are more
like to be bitten than to bite, if you try that game with them."

" Bet you a dollar," sais I, " I sell that old coon as easy as
a clock. What ! a Chesencooker a match for a Yankee ! Come, I
like that ; that is good. Here goes for a trial, at any rate."

" Mounseer," sais I, " have you any wood to sell V*

We didn't need no wood ; but it don't do to begin to ask for
what you want, or you can't do nothen.

" Yes," said he.

" What's the price," said I, " cash down on the nail 1" for I knew
the critter would see " the point" of coming down with the blunt,

" It's ten dollars and a half," said he, " a cord at Halifax, and it
don't cost nothen to carry it there, for I have my own shallop — ^but
I will sell it for ten dollars to oblige you." That was just seven
dollars more than it was worth.

" Well," sais I, " that's not high, only cash is scarce. If you
will take macarel in pay at six dollars a barrel, (which was two
dollars more than its value,) praps we might trade. Could you
9ell me twenty cord ? "

" Yes, may be twenty-five."

»' And the macarel V said I.

214

THB WOBLD BEFOBE THB FLOOD.

ji'll
jtii'

*' Oh,** said he, "macarel is only worth three dollars and a half
at Halifax. I can't sell mine even at that. I have sixty barrels,
number one, for sale."

" If you will promise me to let me have all the wo-'kd I want,
more or less," sais I, *' even if it is ever so little ; or as much,
thirty cords, at ten dollars, real rock maple and yellow birch, then
1 will take all your macarel at three and a half dollars, money
down."

" Say four," said he. . . »-

" No," sais 1.

*' You say you oan*t git but three and a half at Halifax, and I
won't beat you down, nor advance myself one cent. But mind, if
I oblige you by buying all your macarel, you must oblige me by
letting me have all the wood I want."

" Done," said he ; so we warped into the wharf, took the fish on
board, and I paid him the money, and cleared fifteen pounds by the
operation.

" Now," sais I, " where is the wood 1 "

" All this is mine," said he, pointing to a pile containing about
fifty cords.

« Can I have it all," said I, « if I want it ?"

He took off his hat and scratched his head ; scratching helps a
man to think amazingly. He thought he had better ask a little
more than ten dollars, as I appeared to be so ready to buy at any
price. So he said,

" Yes, you may have it all at ten and a half dollars."

" I thought you said, I might have what I wanted at ten.**

" Well, I have changed my mind," said he ; " it is too low."

" And so have I," sais I ; " I won't trade with a man that acts
that way," and I went on board, and the men cast off and began to
warp the vessel again up to her anchor.

Lewis took off his cap and began scratching his head again, he
had over-reached himself. Expecting an immense profit on his
wood, he had sold his fish very low ; he saw I was in earnest, and
jumped on board.

" Capitaine, you will have him at ten, so much as you want of
him."

" Well, measure me off half a cord."

" What !" said he, opening both eyes to their full extent. '

" Measure me off half a cord."

" Didn't you say you wanted twenty or thirty cord 1"

" No," I said ; " I must have that much if I wanted it, but I
don't want it ; it is only worth three dollars, and you have had the
modesty to ask ten, and then ten and a half, but I will take half a
cord to please you ; so measure it off."

He stormed, and raved, and swore, and threw his cap down on

s and a half

ixty barrels,

ro-^d I want,
or as much,
r birch, then
liars, money

alifax, and I
But mind, if
iblige me by

k the fish on
;)und8 by the

fining about

ching helps a
r ask a little
buy at any

THE WOBLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.

215

>»

, ten."
too low."
nan that acts
and began to

ead again, he
profit on his
'^ earnest, and

you want of

xtent. '

ted it, but I
have had the
1 take fialf a

cap down on

the deck and jumped on it, and stretched out his ann as if he was
going to fight, and stretched out his wizzened face as if it made
halloing easier, and foamed at the mouth like a boss that has eat
lobelia in his hay.

" Be gar," he said, " I shall sue you before the common scoun*
drels (council) at Halifax ; I shall take it before the sperm (supreme)
court, and try it out."

" How much He will you get," sais I, " by tryM me out, do you
think r'

" Never mind," said I, in a loud voice, and looking over him at
the mate, and pretending to answer him, "Never mind if he
won't go on shore, he is welcome to stay, and we will land him
on the Isle of Sable, and catch a wild boss for him to ride home
on."

" The hint was electrical ; he picked up his cap and ran aft, and
with one desperate leap reached the wharf in safety, when he
turned and danced as before with rf^e, and his last audible words
were, ' Be gar, I shall go to the sperm court and try it out.' "

" In the world before the flood, you see. Doctor," said I, " they
knew how to cheat as well as the present race do ; the only im-
provement this fellow has made on the antediluvian race is, he can
take himself in as well as others."

" I have oflen thought," said the Doctor, " that in our dealings
in life, and particularly in trading, a difficult question must often
arise whether a thing, notwithstanding the world sanctions it, is
lawful and right. Now what is your idea of smuggling 1"

" I never smuggled," said I ; " I have sometimes imported goods
and didn't pay the duties ; not that I wanted to smuggle, but be-
cause I hadn't time to go to the ofiice. It's a good deal of trouble
to go to a custom-house. When you get there, you are sure to be
delayed, and half the time to git sarce. It costs a good deal ; no
one thanks you, and nobody defrays cab-hire, and makes up for
lost time, temper, and patience to you — it don't pay in a general
way ; sometimes it will ; for instance, when I left the embassy, I
made thirty thousand pounds of your money by one operation.
Lead was scarce in our market, and very high, and the duty was
one-third of the prime cost, as a protection to the native article.
So what does I do but go to old Galena, one of the greatest dealers
in the lead-trade in Great Britain, and ascertained the wholesale
price.

" Sais I, * I want five hundred thousand dollars worth of lead.'

" * That is an immense order,' said he, ' Mr. Slick. There is \o
market in the world that can absorb so much at once.'

" ' The loss will be mine,' said I. * What deductions will you
make if I take it all from your house V

" Well, he came down handsome, and did the thing genteel.

•''t

'!^*

216

THB WOBLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.

r t

" * Now,' sais I, * will you let one of your people go to my cab
and bring a mould I have there V

"Well, it was done.

" * There,' said I, ' is a large bust of Washington. Every citizen
of the United States ought to have one, if he has a dust of patriot-
ism in him. I must have the lead cast into rough busts like that.'

" ' Hollow,' said he, ' of course.'

" ' No, no,' sais I, ' by no manner of means ; the heavier and
Bolider the better.'

" * But,' said Galena, * Mr. Slick, excuse me, though it is against
my own interest, I cannot but suggest you might find a cheaper
material, and one more suitable to your very laudable object.'

" ' Not at all,' said I ; * lead is the very identical thing. If a
man don't like the statue and its price, and it's like as not he won't,
he will like the lead. There is no duty on statuary, but there is
more than thirty per cent, on lead. The duty alone is a fortune,
of not less than thirty thousand pounds, after all expenses are
paid.'

" ' Well, now,' said he, throwing back his head and laughing,
' that is the most ingenious device to evade duties I ever heard ot.*

" I immediately gave orders to my agents at Liverpool to send
so many tons of Washington to every port and place on the sea-
board of the United States, except New York, but not too many
to any one town ; and then I took passage in a steamer, and
ordered all my agents to close the consignment immediately, and
let the lead hero change hands. It was generally allowed to be the
handsomest operation ever performed in our country. Connecticut
offered to send me to Congress fur it; the folks felt so proud
of me.

" But I don't call that smugglin'. It is a skilful reading of a
revenue law. My idea of smugglin' is, there is the duty and there
is the penalty ; pay one and escape the other if you like ; if not,
run your chance of the penalty. If the state wants revenue, let it
collect its dues. If I want my debts got in, I attend to drummin'
them up together myself; let government do the same. There
isn't a bit of harm in smugglin'. I don't like a law restraining
liberty. Let them that impose shackles, look to the bolts ; that's
my idea."

" That argument won't hold water. Slick," said the Doctor.

« Why r'

*' Because it is as full of holes as a cullender."

" How ?"

" The obligation between a government and a people is recip-
rocal. To protect on the one hand, and to support on the other.
Taxes are imposed, first, for the maintenance of the government,
and secondly, for such other objects as are deemed necessary or

to my

oab

TaS WOBLD BKFOEB THB FLOOD.

21T

ery citizen
of patriot-
( like that*

eavier and

t is against
i a cheaper
)bject.*
ihing. If a
ot he won't,
but there is
9 a fortune,
xpenses are

id laughing,
er heard of.*
pool to send
J on the sea-
ot too many
iteamer, and
Bdiately, and
red to be the
Connecticut
t so proud

reading of a
ity and there
ike ; if not,
evenue, let it
to drummin*
ame. There
w restraining
bolts J that's

Doctor.

)ple is recip-
on the other,
government,
necessary or

expedient. The moment goods arc imported which are subject to
Buch exactions, the amount of the tax is a debt due to the state,
the evasion or denial of which is a fraud. The penalty is not an
alternative at your option ; it is a punishment, and that always
pre-supposes an offence. There is no difTerenre between defrauding
the state or an individual. Corporclity or incorporeality has no-
thing to do with the matter."

"Well,"" sais I, "Domine Doctor, that doctrine of implicit obe-
dience to the government won't hold water neither ; otherwise, if
you had lived in Cromwell's time, you would have to have assisted
in cutting the king's head off, or tight in an unjust war, or a thous-
and other wicked but legal things. I believe every tub must stand
on its own bottom ; general rules won't do. Take each separate
and judge of it by itself."

" Exactly," sais the Doctor ; " try that in law and see how it
would work. No two cases would be decided alike ; you'd be
adrift at once, and a drifting ship soon touches bottom. No, that
won't hold water. Stick to general principles, and if a thing is an
exception to the rule, put it in Schedule A or B, and you know
where to look for it. General rules are fixed principles. But you
are only talking for talk sake ; I know you are. Do you think
now that merchant did right to aid you in evading the duty on
your leaden Washingtons ? "

" What the plague had he to do with our revenue laws 1 They
don't bind him, sais I.

" No," said the Doctor, " but there is a higher law than the
statutes of the States or of England either, and that is the moral
law. In aiding you, he made the greatest sale of lead ever effected
at once in England ; the profit on that was his share of the smug-
gling. But you are only drawing me out to see what I am made
of. You are an awful man for a bam. There goes old Lewis to his
fishing boat," sais he. " Look at him shaking his fist at you. Do
you ■ hear him jabbering away about trying it out in the * sperm
court ? ' "

" I'll make him draw his fist in, I know," sais I. So I seized my
rifle, and stepped behind the mast, so that he could not see me ;
and as a large gray gull was passing over his boat, high up in the
air, I fired, and down it fell on the old coon's head so heavily and
so suddenly, he thought he was shot; and he and the others set up
a yell of fright and terror that made everybody on board of the
little fleet of coasters that were anchored round us, combine in
three of the heartiest, merriest, and loudest cheers I ever heard.

" Try that out in the sperm court, you old bull-frog," sais I. " I
guess there is more ile to be found in that fishy gentleman than in
me. " Well," sais I, " Doctor, to get back to what we was a talk-
ing of. It's a tight squeeze sometimes to scrouge between a lie

I..

't:'=.

218

THE WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.

I) :;

■!» >

and a truth in business, ain't it ? The passage is so narrow, if you
don't take care it will rip your trowser buttona oflTin spHe of you.
Fortunately I am thin and can do it like an eel, squirmey fashion ;
but a stout, awkward fellov? is most sore to be catched.

" I shall never forget a rise I cMiee took out of a set of jockies at
Albany. I had an everlastin' fast Naraganset pacer once to Slick-
ville, one that I had purchased in Mandarin's place. I was con-
siderable proud of him, I do assure you, for he took the rag off the
bush in great style. Well, our stable-help, Pat Monoghan, (him I
used to call Mr. Monoghan) would stuff him with fresh clover
without me knowing it, and as sure as rates, I broke his wind in
driving him too fast. It gave him the heaves, that is, it made hi»
flanks heave like a blacksmith's bellows. We call it 'heaves,*
Britishers call it 'broken wind.' Well, there is no cure for it,
though some folks tell you a hornet's nest cut up fine, and put in
their meal will do it, and others say sifl the oats clean, and give
them juniper berries in it, and that will do it, or ground ginger, or
tar, or what not ; but these are all quackeries. You can't cure it,
for it's a ruption of an air vessel, and you can't get at it to sew it
up. But you can fix it up by diet and care, and proper usage, so
that you can deceive even an old hand, providin' you don't let him
ride or drive the beast too fast.

" Well, I doctored and worked with him so, the most that could
be perceived was a slight cold, nothen' to mind, much less frighten
you. And when I got him up to the notch, I advertised him for
sale, as belonging to a person going down east, who only parted
with him because he thought him too heavey for a man who never
travelled less than a mile in two minutes and twenty seconds.
Well, he was sold at auction, and knockti down to Rip Van Dam,
the Attorney-General, for five hundred dollars ; and the owner put
a saddle and bridle on him, and took a bet of two hundred dollars
with me, he could do a mile in two minutes, fifly seconds. He
didn't know me from Adam parsonally, at the time, but he had
heard of me, and bought the horse, because it was said Sam Slick
owned him.

" Well, he started ofll^ and lost his bet ; for when he got near the
winnin' post the horse choked, fell, and pitched the rider off half^
way to Troy, and nearly died himself The umpire handed me
the money, and I dug out for the steam-boat intendin* to pull foot
for home. Just as I reached the wharf, I heard my name called
out, but I didn't let on I noticed it, and walked a-head. Presently,
Van Dam seized me by the shoulder, quite out of breatl., puffin*
and blowin' like a porpoise.

"'Mr. Slick,' said he.

" ' Yes,' sais I, ' what's left of me ; but good gracious,* sais I,
* you have got the * heaves.' I hope it ain't catchin.*

TBB WORLD BEFOBE THE FLOOD.

219

ow, if you
ite of you.
y fashion ;

' jockies at
►e to Slick-
I was con-
rag off the
lan, (him I
'esh clover
lis wind in
it made his
t 'heaves,*
cure for it,
and put in
a, and give
d ginger, or
an't cure it,
it to sew it
er usage, so
on't let him

it that could
less frighten
jed him for
only parted
a who never
ity seconds,
p Van Dam,
e owner put
idred dollars
iconds. He
but he had
.d Sam Slick

got near the

ider off half-
handed me
to pull foot

name called
Presently,

reatl., puffin'

wous/

sals I,

" * No I haven't,' said he, * but your cussed hoss has, and nearly
broke my neck. You are like all the Connecticut men 1 ever see,
a nasty, mean, long-necked, long-lagged, narrow-chested, slab-sided,
narrow-soul ed, lantern-jawed, Yankee cheat.'

" * Well,' sais I, ' that's a considerable of a long name to write
on the back of a letter, ain't it ? It ain't good to use such a swad
of words, it's no wonder you have the heaves ; but I'll cure you ; I
warn't brought up to wrangliu' ; I hain't time to fight you, and
besides,' said I, *you are broken-winded; but I'll heave you over
the wharf to cool you, boots and all, by gravy.'

" ' Didn't you advertise,' said he, ' that the only reason you had
to part with that horse was, that he was too heftvy for a man ^vho
never travelled slower than a mile in two minutes and twenty
seconds.'

" * Never 1 ' sais I, ' I never said such a word. What will you
bet I did 1'
"'Fifty dollars,' said he.

" * Don©,' said I. And Vanderbilt (he was just going on board
the steamer at the time,) ' Vanderbilt,' sais I, ' hold these stakes.
Friend,' sals I, ' I won't say you lie, but you talk uncommonly like
the way I do when I lie. Now prove it.'

" And he pulled out one of my printed advertisements, and said
♦ read that,'
" Well, I read it. * It ain't there,' said I.
" * Ain't it 1 ' said he. ' I leave it to Vanderbilt.'
" ♦ Mr. Slick,' said he, * you have lost — it is here.'
" * Will you bet fifly dollars,' said I, * though you have seen it,
that it's there 1'
" * Yes,' said he, * I will.'

" * Done,' said I. ' Now how do you spell heavy 1 '
" * H-e-a-v-y,' said he.

" * Exactly,' sais I ; 'so do I. But this is spelt heav-ey. I did
It on purpose. 1 scorn to take a man in about a horse, so I pub-
lished his defect to all the world, I said he was too heavey for har-
ness, and so he is. He aint worth fifty dollars — I wouldn't take
him as a gift — he aint worth von dam,'*

" * Well, I did see that,' said he, ' but I thought it was an error
of the press, or that the owner couldn't spell.'

" ' Oh I' sais I, ' don't take me for one of your Dutch boors, I
beg of you, I can spell, but you can't read, that's all. You re-
mind me,' says I, " of a feller in Blickville, when the six-cent letter
stamps came in fashion. He licked the stamp so hard, he took all
the gum off, and it wouldn't stay on, no how he could fix it, so
what does he do but put a pin through it, and writes on the letter,
** Paid, if the darned thing will only stick." Now if you go and
llok the stamp ctarnally that way, folks will put a pin through it,

220

THB WORLD BEFORE THB FLOOD.

'I m

i ,

and the story will stick to you for ever anfl ever. But come on
board, and let's liquor, and I will stand treat.'

" I felt sorry for the poor critter, and I told him how to feed the
horse, and advised him to take him to Saratoga, advertise him, and
sell him the same way ; and he did, and got rid of him. The rise
raised his character as a lawyer amazing. He was elected gov-
ernor next year.

" Now I don't call the lead Washingtons nor the heavey horse
either on 'em a case of cheat ; but I do think a man ought to know
how to read a law and how to read an advertisement, don't v ^u ?
But come, let us go ashore, and see how the gals look, for you have
raised my curiosity."

We accordingly had the boat lowered ; and taking Sorrow with
us to see if he could do anything in the catering line, the Doctor,
Cutler, and myself landed on the beach, and walked round the set-
tlement.

The shore was covered with fish flakes, which sent up an aroma
not the most agreeable in the world, except to those who lived
there, and they, I do suppose, snuff" up the breeze as if it was
loaded with wealth, and smelt of the Gold coast. But this was
nothing (although I don't think I can ever eat dum fish again as
long as I live) to the effluvia arising from decomposed heaps of sea-
weed, which had been gathered for manure, and was in the act of
removal to the fields. No words can describe this, and I leave it to
your imagination, Squire, to form an idea of a new perfume in
nastiness that has never yet been appreciated but by an Irishman.

I heard a Paddy once, at Halifax, describe the wreck of a car-
riage which had been dashed to pieces. He said there was not " a
smell of it left." Poor fellow, he must have landed at Chesencook,
and removed one of those oloriferous heaps, as Sorrow called them,
and borrowed the metaphors from it, that there was not " a smell
of it left." On the beach between the " flakes" and the water, were
smaller heaps of the garbage of the cod-fish and mackerel, on which
the grey and white gulls fought, screamed, and gorged themselves,
while on the bar were the remains of several enormous black fish,
half the size of whales, which had been driven on shore, and hauled
up out of the reach of the waves by strong ox teams. The heads
and livers of these huge monsters had been " tried out in the Sperm
court" for ile, and the putrid remains of the carcass were disputed
for by pigs and crows. The discordant noises of these hungry
birds and beasts were perfectly deafening.

On the right hand side of the harbor, boys and girls waded out
on the flats to dig clams, and were assailed on all sides by the
screams of wild fowl, who resented the invasion of their territory,
and were replied to in tones no less shrill and unintelligible. On
the left was the wreck of a large ship, which had perished oa th«

((.

ut come on

r to feed the
ise him, and
I. The rise
jlected gov-

heavey horse

ight to know

don't V ^u 1

for you have

Sorrow with
the Doctor,
ound the set-
up an aroma
)se who lived
as if it was
But this was
fish again as
. heaps of sea-
in the act of
a. I leave it to

perfume in
in Irishman,
eck of a car-
e was not " a
t Chesencook,
7 called them,
not " a smell
le water, were
erel, on which
i themselves,
us black fish,
re, and hauled
The heads

in the Sperm
vere disputed
these hungry

Is waded out
sides by the
leir territory,
lUigible. On
ished on tho

THB WOBLD BBFOBE THB FLOOP.

221

coast, and left its ribs and skeleton to bleach on tha nboro, m if it
had failed in the vain attempt to reach the forest from wbieh it had
sprung, and to repose in death in its native vuUoy, Vivm otic of
its masts, a long, loose, solitary shroud was pendant, hfivin^ at its
end a large double block attached to it, on which a boy wa§ seated,
and swung backward and forward. He was a little, mmy urchin,
of about twelve years of age, dressed in striped hoiuyiiputi, and
had on his head a red yarn clackmutch, that resembled a, cap of
liberty. He seemed quite happy, and sung a verse of a l?Vcnch
song with an air of conscious pride and defiance as bis mothtii*, stick
in hand, stood before him, and at the top of her voice now threat-
ened him with the rod, his father, and the priest— ftnd then trcfl(!h-
erously coaxed him with a promise to take him to Hfliif/jx, where
he should see the great chapel, hear the big bell, and look at the
bishop. A group of little girls stared in amazement at h\n eourage,
but trembled when they heard his mother predict a broken week —
purgatory — and the devil as his portion.

The dog was as excited as the boy — he didn't bark, but he whim-
pered, as he gazed upon him, as if he would like to jump up, and
be with him, or to assure him he would catch him if lie f4,'ll, if he
had but the power to do so.

What a picture it was — the huge wreck of that, tbflt once
" walked the waters as a thing of life" — the merry boy— the anx-
ious mother — the trembling sisters — the aflTectionate dog— what bits
of church-yard scenes were here combined — children playing on
the tombs-;-the young and the old — the merry and the oehing heart
—the living among the dead. Far beyond this were tall figures
wading in the water, and seeking their food in the shallow* i cranes
who felt the impunity that the superstition of the simple habUana
had extended to them and sought their daily meal in pe<i€@.

Above the beach, and parallel with it, ran a main road, on the
upper side of which were the houses, and on a swelling mound
behind them rose the spire of the chapel, visible fur olt* in the
Atlantic, a sacred signal-post for the guidance of the poor coaster.
As soon as you reach this street or road, and look around you, you
feel at once you are in a foreign country, and a land of strangers.
The people, their dress, and their language, the houses, their form
and appearance, the implements of husbandry, their shape and con-
struction — all that you hear and see is unlike anything else, It is
neither above, beyond, or behind the age. It is the world before
the flood. I have sketched it for you, and I think without bragging
I may say I can take things off to the life. Once I drawed a mut-
ton chop so nateral, my dog broke his teeth In tearing the panel to
pieces to get at it, and at another time I painted a sbinule so lilfe
stone, when I threw it into the water it sunk right kerlush to tlio
bottom.'*

222

THB WOBLD BEFOBE THE F|iOOD.

" Oh, Mr. Slick," said the Doctor, " let me get away from here.
I can't bear the sight of the sea-coast, and above ail this offensive

?lace. Let us get into the woods, where we can enjoy ourselves,
ou have never witnessed what I have lately, and 1 trust in God
you never will. I have seen within this month two hundred dead
bodies on a beach, in every possible shape of disfiguration and
decomposition — mangled, mutilated, and dismembered corpses;
male and female, old and young, the prey of fishes, birds, beasts,
and what is worse, of human beings. The wrecker had been there
— whether he was of your country or mine I know not, but I fer-
vently hope he belonged to neither. Oh, I have never slept sound
since. The screams of the birds terrify me, and yet what do they
do but follow the instincts of their nature ? They batten on the
dead, and if they do feed on the living, God has given them anima-
ted beings for their sustenance, as he has the fowls of the air, the
fishes of the sea, and the beasts of the field to us, but they feed
not on each other. Man, man alone is a cannibal. What an awful
word that is."

" Exactly," sais I, '- for he is then below the canine species — dog
won't eat dog.* The wrecker lives not on those who die, but on
those whom he slays. The pirate has courage at least to boast of;
he risks his life to rob the ship, but the other attacks the helpless
and unarmed, and spares neither age nor sex, in his thirst for
plunder. I don't mean to say we are worse on this side of the
Atlantic than the other. God forbid. I believe we are better ;
for the American people are a kind, a feeling and a humane race.
But avarice hardens the heart, and distress when it comes in a
mass, overpowers pity for the individual, while the inability to aid
a multitude, induces a carelessness to assist any. A whole com-
munity will rush to the rescue of a drowning man, not because his
purse can enrich them all, that is too dark a view of human nature,
but because he is the sole object of interest. When there are hun-
dreds struggling for life, few of whom can be isaved, and when
some wretches are solely bent on booty, the rest regardless of
duty, rush in for their share also, and the ship and her cargo
attract all. When the wreck is plundered, the transition to rifling
the dying and the dead is not difficult ; and cupidity, when once
sharpened by success, brooks no resistance, for the remonstrance of
conscience is easily silenced where supplication is not even heard.
Avarice benumbs the feelings, and when the heart is hardened, man
becomes a mere beast of prey. Oh, this scene affects me — let us
move on. These poor people have never yet been suspected of
these atrocities, and surely they were not perpetrated in the world
before the flood."

* This homely adage is far more expressive than the Tatin one :— •

" Parcit
Cognates maculis. simiiis fera." — Juv.

LOST AT BEA.

223

' from here.
lis offensive
y ourselves,
rust in God
undred dead
;uration and
ed corpses;
(irds, beasts,
d been there
Dt, but I fer-

slept sound
vhat do they
itten on the
them anima-

the air, the
ut they feed
'hat an awful

species — dog
3 die, but on
; to boast of;

the helpless
lis thirst for
3 side of the
! are better ;
lumane race.

comes in a
ibility to aid

whole com-
t because his
iman nature,
lere are hun-
J, and when
egardless of
id her cargo
ion to rifling
f, when once
lonstrance of

even heard.

rdened, man

me — let us
suspected of
in the world

e:—

CHAPTER XVIL

LOST AT SEA.

** I BELIEVE, Doctor," sais I, " we have seen all that is worth no-
tice here ; let us go into one of their houses, and ascertain if there
is anything for Sorrow's larder ; but. Doctor," sais I, " let us first
find out if they speak English, for if they do, we must be careful
what we say before them. Very few of the old people, I guess,
know anything but French ; but the younger ones, who frequent
the Halifax market, know more than they pretend to if they are
like some other habitants I saw at New Orleans, They are as cun-
ning as foxes."

Proceeding to one of the largest cottages, we immediately-
gamed admission. The door, unlike those of Nova Scotian houses,
opened outwards, the fastenings being a simple wooden latch.
The room into which we entered was a large, dark, dingy, dirty
apartment. In the centre of it was a tub containing some goslins,
resembling yellow balls of cornmeal, rather than birds. Two
females were all that were at home ; one an old wrinkled woman,
whose age it would puzzle a physiognomist to pronounce on, the
other a girl about twenty-five years old. They sat on opposite
sides of the fire-place, and both were clothed alike, in blue-striped
homespun, as previously described.

" Look at their moccasins," said the Doctor. " They know
much more about deer-skins than half the English settlers do.
Do you observe they are made of carriboo, and not moose hide %
The former contracts with wet, and the other distends and gets out
of shape. Simple as that little thing is, few people have ever no-
ticed it."

The girl, had she been differently trained and dressed, would
have been handsome; but spare diet, exposure to the sun and
wind, and field-labor had bronzed her face, so that it was difllicult to
say what her real complexion was. Her hair was jet-black and
very luxuriant ; but the handkerchief which served for bonnet and
head-dress by day, and for a cap by night, hid all but the ample
folds in front. Her teeth were as white as ivory, and contrasted
strangely with the gipsy color of her cheeks. The eyes were
black, soft, and liquid, and the lashes remarkably long ; but the
expression of the face which was naturally good, indicated, though
not very accurately, the absence of either thought or curiosity.

Afl;er a while objects became more distinct in the room, as we grad-
ually became' accustomed to the dim light of the small windows.
The wails were hung round with large banks of yarn, principally

224i

LOST AT SEA.

HI'

111

l.!l|l

«'

: y-H i

' 1:^1

blue and white. An open cupboard displayed some plam eosmt
cups and saucers, and the furniture consisted of two rough table*^
a large bunk,* one or two sea chests, and a few chairs of simple
workmanship ; a large old-fashioned spinning-wheel, and a barrel-
churn stood in one corner, and in the other a shoemaker's bencb^
while carpenters' tools were suspended on nails in such places an
were not occupied by yarn. There was no ceiling or plastering
visible anywhere ; the floor of the attic alone separated that por-
tion of the house from the lower room, and the Joist on which ift
was laid, was thus exposed to view, and supported on wooden
cleats, leather, oars, rudders, together with some half-dressed pieces
of ash, snow-shoes, and such other things as necessity might
require. The wood-work, wherever visible, was begrimed with
smoke, and the floor, though doubtless sometimes swept, appearec}
as if it had the hydrophobia hidden in ita cracks, so carefully wer^
soap and water kept from ft. Hams and bacon were nowhere
visible. It is probable, if they had any, they were kept elsewhere \
but still more probable that they had found their way to market^
and been transmuted into money, for these people are remarkably
frugal and abstemious, and there can be no doubt, the Doctor sayg^
that there is not a house fn the settlement, in which there is not a
supply of ready money, though the appearance of the buildings
and their inmates would by no means justify a stranger in suppoS'
ing SO. They are neither poor nor destitute, but far better off
than those who live more comfortably, and inhabit better houses.

The only article of food that I saw was a barrel of eggs, mosfi
probably accumulated for the Halifax market, and a few small flsb
on rods, undergoing the process of smoking in the chimney corner.

The old woman was knitting and enjoying her pipe, and the girl
was dressing wool, and handling a pair of cards with a rapidity and
ease that would have surprised a Lancashire weaver. The moment
she rose to sweep up the hearth I saw she was an heiress. Whe«
an Acadian girl has but her outer and under garment on, it is a
char sign if she marries, there will be a heavy demand on the
fleeces of her husband's sheep ; but if she wears four or more thick
woollen petticoats, it is equally certain her portion of worldly
goods is not very small.

" Doctor," sais I, " it tante every damin needle would reach hei*
through them petticoats, is it T*

" Oh !" said he, " Mr. Slick — oh f" and he rose aa usual, stoopedl
fc^ward, pressed his hands on his ribs, and ran round the room, If
not at the imminent risk of his life, certainly to the great danger
of the spinning-wheel and the goslings. Both the females regarded
him with great surprise, and not without some alarm ^

* Bunk is a word in common use, and means a box that makes a seat bj
day and serves for a bedstead by night.

i';ii;'

i! Illl

LOST AT BEA.

225

; COKTW9

i tables,
simpler
barrel-
) bench,
laces M
asterlng
hat por-
which ll»
wooden
d piece*
f mighfc
ed with
ippeared
lly wer»
nowhere
lewhere ^
market,
oarkably
tor says^
s is not §k
buitdingit
t suppos-
etter off*
houses,
rgs, most
mall Ash
corneFr
the girl
idity and
moment
When
, it is A
on tho
ire thick
worldly

|:each he**

stoopedl
[room, If
danger
igarded

** He has the stomacn-ache," sais I, in French, " he is subject to
it."

" Oh ! oh !" said he, when he heard that, " oh, Mr. Slick, you
will be the death of me."

*• Have you got any peppermint V sais I.

** No," said she, talking in her own patois^ and she scraped a
ipoonful of soot from the chimney, and putting it into a cup, was
ftoout pouring hot water on it for an emetic, when he could stand
it tio longer, but rushing out of the door, put to flight a flock of
giese that were awaiting their usual meal, and stumbling over a

fig, fell at full length on the ground, nearly crushing to death the
og, who went off yelling as if another such blow would be the
d@Ath of him, and hid himself under the barn. The idea of the
900t emetic relieved the old lady, though it nearly fixed the Doc-
tor's flint for him. She extolled its virtues to the skies ; she saved
her daughter's life, she said, with it once, who had been to Halifax,
and was taken by an officer into a pastrycook's shop and treated.
H@ told her if she would eat as much as she could at once, he
would pay for it all.

Well, she did her best. She eat one loaf of plumcake, three
trays of jellies, a whole counter of little tarts, figs, raisins, and
©ranges and all sorts of things without number. Oh ! it was a
grand chance, she said, and the way she eat was a caution to a cor-
morant ; but at last she gave out, she couldn't do no more. The
foolish officer, the old lady observed, if he had let her fetch all them
things home, you know we could have helped her to eat them, and
if we couldn't have eat em all in one day, surely we could in one
week ; but he didn't think of that, I suppose. But her daughter
liked to have died ; too much of a good thing is good for nothing.
Well, the soot emetic cured her, and ib n she told me all its
effTeets } and it's very surprising, it didn't sound bad in French, but
it don't do to write it in English at all ; it's the same thing, but it
tells better in French. It must be a very nice language that for a
doetor, when it makes emetics sound so pretty ; you might hear of
em while you was at dinner and not disturb you.

You may depend it made the old lady wake snakes and walk
ehalks talking of physic. She told me if a man was dying or a
ehild was born in all that settlement, she was always sent for, and
related to me some capital stories ; but somehow no English or
Yankee woman could tell them to a man, and a man can't tell
them in English. How is this Squire, do you know 1 Ah ! here
is the Doctor, I will ask him by-and-by.

Women, I believe, are born with certain natural tastes. Sally

was death on lace, and old Aunt Thankful goes the whole figure for

Airs } either on em could tell real thread or genuine sable clear

Aoros« the church. Mother was born with a tidy devil, and had an

10*

226

LOBT AT SEA

eye for cobwebs and blue-bottle flies. She waged eternal war on
em ; while Phcebe Hopewell beat all natur for bigotry and virtue
{bijouterie and vertu.) But most Yankee women when they grow
old, specially if they are spinsters, are grand at compoundin medi-
cines and presarves. They begin by nursen babies and end by
nursen up broughten-up folks. Old Mother Boudrot now was
great on simples, most of which were as simple and as harmless as
Herself. Some of them was new to me, though I think 1 know bet-
ter ones than she has ; but what made her onfallible was, she had
faith ; she took a key out of her pocket, big enough for a jail-door,
and unlocking a huge sailor's chest, selected a box made by the
Indians, of birch bark, worked with porcupine quills, which enclosed
another a size smaller, and that a littler one that would just fit into
it, and so on until she came to one about the size of an old-fashioned
cofFee-cup. They are called a nest of boxes. The inner one con-
tained a little horn thing that looked like a pill-box, and that had ft
charm in it.

It was a portion of the nail of St. Francis's big toe, which never
failed to work a cure on them who believed in it. She said she
bought it from a French prisoner, who had deserted from Melville
Island, at Halifax, during the last war. She gave him a suit of
clothes, two shirts, six pair of stockings, and eight dollars for it.
The box was only a bit of bone, and not worthy of the sacred relic,
but she couldn't afford to get a gold one for it.

" Poor St. Croix," she said, " I shall never see him again. He
had great larning ; he could both read and write. When he sold
me that holy thing, he said :

" Madam, I am afraid something dreadful will happen to me
before long, for selling that relic. When danger and trouble come,
where will be my charm, then ?"

" Well, sure enough, two nights afler it was a very dark night,
the dogs barked dreadful, and in the morning Peter La Roue, when
he got up, saw his father's head on the gate-post, grinnin' at him,
and his daughter Annie's handkerchief tied over his crown and
down under his chin. And St. Croix was gone, and Annie was in
a trance, and the priest's desk was gone, with two hundred pounds
of money in it, and old Jodries ram had a saddle and bridle on,
and was tied to the gate of the widow of Justine Robisheau, that
was drowned in a well at Halifax, and Simon Como's boat put off
to sea itself, and was no more heard of. Oh, it was a terrible
night, and poor St. Croix, people felt very sorry for him, and for
Annie La Roue, who slept two whole days and nights before she
woke up. She had all her father's money in her room that night ;
but they searched day after day, and never found it."

Well, I didn't undeceive her. What's the use? Master St.
Croix was an old privateers-man. He had drugged La Roue's

LOST AT SEA,

227

al war on
md virtue
hey grovr
idin medi-
d end by
now was
armless as
know bet-
bS, she had
i jail-door,
ide by the
ih enclosed
ust fit into
Ufashioned
jr one con-
that had a

rhich never
le said she
m Melville
1 a suit of
lars for it.
acred relic,

igain. He
len he sold

)pen to me
)uble come,

dark night,
loue, when
in' at him,
crown and
nnie was in
•ed pounds
I bridle on,
isheau, that
oat put off

a terrible
m, and for

before she
that night ;

Master St.
La Roue's

daughter to rob her ot her money ; had stolen two hundred pounds
from the priest, and Como's boat, and sold the old lady a piece c
his toe-nail for eight or ten pounds' worth in all. I never shake
the faith of an ignorant person. Suppose they do believe too
much, it is safer than believing too little. You may make them
give up their creed, but they ain't always quite so willing to take
your's. It is easier to make an infidel than a convert. So I just
let folks be, and suffer them to skin their own eels.

After that, she took to paying me compliments on my French,
and I complimented her on her good looks, and she confessed she
was very handsome when she was young, and all the men were in
love with her, and so on. Well, when I was about startin', I
inquired what she had to sell in the eatin' line.

" Eggs and hams," she said, " were all she had in the house,"

On examining the barrel containing the former, I found a white*
lookin', tasteless powder among them,

« What's that," said I.

Well, she told me what it was (pulverised gypsum), and said,
*' it would keep them sweet and fresh for six months, at least, and
she didn't know but a year."

So I put my hand away down into the barrel and pulled out
two, and that layer she said was three months' old. I held them
to the light, and they were as clear as if laid yesterday.

^ Boil them," sais I, and she did so ; and I must say it was a
wrinkle I didn't expect to pick up at such a place as that, for
nothing could be fresher.

"Here is a dollar," said I, "for that receipt, for it's worth
knowing, I can tell you,"

' "Now./' thinks I, as I took my seat again, " I will try and see
if this French gall can talk English." I asked her, but she shook
her head.

Sais I, " Doctor, ain't she a beauty, that 1 See what lovely
eyes she has and magnificent hair ! Oh, if she was well got up,
and fashionably dressed, wouldn't she be a sneezer? What
beautiful little hands and feet she has ! I wonder if she would
marry, seein' I am an orthodox man."

Well, she never moved a muscle ; she kept her eyes fixed on
her work, and there wasn't the leastest mite of a smile on her face.
I thought her head was rather more stationary, if anything, as if
she was listening, and her eyes more fixed as if she was all
attention ; for she had dropped a stitch in her knitting ; and was
a taking of it up, so perhaps I might be mistaken. Thinks I, will
try you on t'othei* tack.

" Doctor, how would you like to kiss her, eh ? Ripe-looking
lips them, ain't they ? Well, I wouldn't kiss her for the world,"
said I ; "I would just as soon think of kissing a ham that is

228

LOST AT SEA.

■ft

covered with creosote. There is so much ile and smoke on 'cm, I
should have the taste in my mouth for a week. Phew ! 1 think 1
taste it now !"

She colored a little at that and pretty soon got up, and went out
of the room ; and presently I heard her washing her hands and
face.

Thinks I, "Yon sly foxF you know English well enough to
kiss in it, if you can't talk in it easy. 1 thought Pde find you out ;
for a gall that won't laugh when you tickle her, can"! help screanjin'
a little when yon pinch her ; that's a fact.'' She returned in a few
minutes, quite a different lookin' person, and resumed her usual
employment, hut still persisted that she did not know English.
In the midst of our conversation, the master of the house, Jerome
Boudrot came in. Like most of the natives of Chesencook, he waa
short in stature, but very active, and like al7 the rest, a great
talker.

" Ah, gentleman," he said, " you fbllows de sea, eh 1"

** No," sais I, " the sea often follows us, especially when the wind
is fair.'*

" True, true," he said ^ " I forget dat. It followed me one time.
Oh, I was onst lost at sea ; and it's an awful foelin'. I was out of
sight of land one whole day, all night, and little piece of next day,
O, we was proper frightened. It was all sea and sky, and big
wave, and no land, and none of us knew our way back." And he
opened his eyes as if the very recollection of his danger alarmed
him. " At last big ship came by, and I hailed her, and ask :

*' * My name is Jerry Boudrot ; where am 1 V

" ' Aboard of your own vessel,' said they ; and they laughed
like anything, and left us.

" Well, towards night we were overtaken by Yankee vessel, and
a say, ' My name is Jerry Boudrot ; where am I V

" ' Thar^ said the sarcy Yankee captain, ' and if you get this
far, you will be here ;' and they laughed at me, and I swore at
them, and called 'em all manner of names.

" Well, then, we was proper frightened, and I gave myself up
for lost, and 1 was so sorry I hadn't put my deed of my land on
recor, and that I never got pay for half a cord of wood I sold a
woman, who nevare return agin, last time I was to Halifax ; and
Esadore Terrio owe me two shillings and six pence, and I got no
note of hand for it, and I lend my ox-cart for one day to Martell
Baban, and he will keep it for a week, and wear it out, jnd my
wife marry again as sure as de world. Oh, I was very scare and
prepare sorry, you may depend, when presently great big English
ship come by, and I hail her.

" ' My name is Jerry Boudrot,' sais I, * when did you see
land last f

LOST AT 8BA

on 'cm, I
I think 1

went out
lands and

enough to
you out ;
screaniin'
d in a few
her usual
' English,
le, Jerome
ok, he was
b, a great

1 the winJ

I one time,
was out of
' next day,
r, and big
' And he
ir alarmed
isk :

5y laughed

vessel, and

1 get this
swore at

myself up
ly land on
)d I sold a
lifax ; and
id I got no
to Martell
t, jnd my
scare and
ig English

you

** * Thirty days ago,' said the captain.

*' • Where am I Y sais I.

" ♦ In 44* 40' north,' said he, * and 63° 40' west,' as near as I
could hear him.

" ' And what country is dat are V said I. * My name is Jerry
Boudrot.'

" * Where are you bound V said he.

«• Home,' said I.*

" * Well, said he, * at this season of the year you shall make de
run in twenty-five days. A pleasant passage to you !' and away
he went.

*' Oh, I was plague scared ; for it is a dreadful thing to be lost
at sea.

"'Twenty -five days,' said I, 'afore we get home. Oh, mon
Dieu ! oh dear ! we shall all starve to death ; and what is worse,
die first. What provisions have we, boys V

" ' Well,' sais they, ' we counted, and we had two figs of
tobocco, and six loaf baker's bread (for the priest,) two feet of
WO'' d, three matches, and five gallons of water, and one pipe among
us all.' Three matches and five gallons of water ! Oh, I was so
sorry to lose my life, and what was wus, I had my best clothes
on bord.

" ' Oh, boys, we are out of sight of land now,' sais I, * and what
is wus, may be we go so far we get out sight of de sun too, where
is dark like down cellar. Oh, it's a shocking ting to be lost at sea.
Oh, people lose deir way dere so bad, sometimes dey nevare
return no more. People that's lost in de wood dey come back if
dey live, but them that's lost at sea nevare. Oh, I was damn
scared. Oh, mon Dieu ! what is 44° 40' north and 63° 40' west?
Is dat de country were people who are lost at sea go to 1 Boys, is
there any rum on board, and they said there was a bottle for the
old ladies rhumatis. Well, hand it up, and if ever you get back
tell her it was lost at sea, and has gone 44° 40' north and 63° 40'
west. Oh, dear, dis all comes from going out of sight of land.'

" Oh, I was very dry, you may depend. I was so scared, at
being lost at sea that way, my lips stuck together like the sole and
upper-leather of a shoe. And when I took down the bottle to
draw breath, the boys took it away, as it was all I had. Oh, it
set my mouth afire, it was made to warm outside and not inside.
Dere was brimstone, and camphor, and eetle red pepper, and tur-
pentene in it. Vary hot, vary nasty, and vary trong, and it made
me sea-sick, and I gave up my dinner, for I could not hole him no
longer, he jump so in de stomach, and what was wuss, I had so lit-
tle for anoder meal. Fust I lose my way, den I lose my sense,

* All colonists call England " home."

280

LOST AT SEA.

■

den I lose my dinner, and what is wuss I lose myself to sea. Oh,
I repent vary much of my sin, in going out of sight of land. Well,
I lights my pipe and walks up and down, and presently the sun
comes out quite bright.

'• ' Well, dat sun,' sais I, * boys, sets every night behind my
barn in the big swamp, somewhere about tne Hemlock Grove.
Well dat is 63° 40' west, I suppose. And it rises a few miles to
the eastward of that barn, sometimes out of a fog bank, or some-
times out o' the water; well that is 44° 40' north, which is all but
east, I suppose. Now, if we steer west we will see our barn, but
steering east is being lost at sea, for in time you would be behind
de sun.'

" Well, we didn't sleep much dat night you may depend, but we
prayed a great deal, and we talked a great deal, and I was so cus-
sed scared I did not know what to do. Well, morning came and
still no land, and I began to get diablement feared again. Every
two or tree minutes I run up de riggin, and look out, but couldn t
see nothin. At last I went down to my trunk, for I had a bottle
there for my rheumatics too, only no nasty stuff in it, that the
boys didn't know of, and I took very long draught, I was so
scared ; and then I went on deck up de riggin again.

" * Boys,' sais I, ' there's the barn that's 63° 40' west. I told
you so.' Well, when I came down I went on my knees, and I
vowed as long as I lived I would hug as tight and close — "

" Hug your wife," sais I.

" Pooh no," said he, turning round contemptuously towards her,
" hug her, eh ! why, she has got the rheumatiz, and her tongue is
in mourning for her teeth. No, hug the shore, man, hug it «s close
as possible, and never lose sight of land for fear of being lost at
sea."

The old woman, perceiving that Jerry had been making some
joke at her expense, asked the girl the meaning of it, when she
rose, and seizing his cap and boxing his ears with it, right and left,
asked what he meant by wearing it before gentlemen, and then
poured out a torrent of abuse on him, with such volubility I was
unable to follow it.

Jerry sneaked off, and set in the corner near his daughter, afraid
to speak, and the old woman took her chair again, unable to do so.
There was a truce and a calm ; so to change the conversation,
sais I :

" Sorrow, take the rifle, and go and see if there is a Jesuit priest
about here, and if there is, shoot him, and take him on board and
cook him."

" Oh, Massa Sam," said he, and he opened his eyes and goggled
like an owl awfully frightened. " Goody gracious me, now you is
joking, isn't you? I is sure you is. Yvu wouldn't now, massa,

LOBT AT 8£A

231

9ca. Oh,
d. Well,
y the sun

Bhind my
jk Grove.
V miles to
or some-
is all but
barn, but
be behind

id, but we
as so cus-
came and
I. Everv
it couldn t
I a bottle
, that the
I was so

t. I told
2es, and I

wards her,

tongue is

it fls close

ing lost at

ting some
when she

it and left,
and then
ity I was

iter, afraid

to do so.

Lversation,

suit priest
board and

d goggled
ow you is
w, massa,

you wouldn't make dis child do murder, would you ? Oh, maasa,
kill de poor priest who nebber did no harm in all his bom days,
and him had no wife and child to follow him to — "

" The pot," sais I, "oh yes, if they ask me arter him, I will say
he is cone to pot."

"Oh, massa, now yoj is funnin', ain't you]" and he tried to
force a laugh. " How in de world under de canopy ob hebbin
must de priest be cooked ?"

" Cut his head and feet off," sais I, " break his thighs short, close
up to the stumps, bend 'em up his side, ram him into the pot, and
stew him with nam and vegetables. Lick ! a Jesuit priest is deli-
cious, done that way."

The girl dropped her cards on her knees and looked at me with
intense anxiety. She seemed quite handsome, I do actilly believe
if she was put in a tub and washed, laid out on the grass a few
nights with her face up to bleach it, her great yarn petticoats
hauled off and proper ones put on, and her head and feet dressed
right, she'd beat the Blue-nose galls for beauty out and out ; but
that is neither here nor there, those that want white faces must
wash them, and those that want white floors must scrub them ; it's
enough for me that they are white, without my making them so.
Well, she looked all eyes and ears. Jerry's under-jaw dropped.
Cutler was flabbergasted, and the Doctor looked as if he thought :
"Well, what are you at now?" while the old woman appeared
anxious enough to give her whole barrel of eggs to know what was
going on.

" Oh, massa," said Sorrow, " dis here child can't have no hand
in it. De priest will pyson you to a dead sartainty. If he was
baked he mout do. In Africa dey is hannibals and eat dere prison-
ers, but den dey bake or roast 'em ; but stew him, massa ! by
golly he will pyson you as sure as 'postles. My dear ole misses
died from only eaten hogs wid dere heads on."

" Hogs," said I.

" Yes, massa, in course, hogs wid dere heads on. Ah, she was
a most a beautiful cook, but she was feazled out by bad cookery
at de last."

" You black villain," said I, " do you mean to say your mis-
tress ever eat whole hogs 1"

" Yes, massa, in course I do, but it was abbin dere heads on
fixed her flint for her."

" What an awful liar you are. Sorrow."

" 'Pon my sacred word and honor, massa," he said, " I stake my
testament oat on it ; does you tink dis here child now would swear
to a lie ? true as preachin."

" Go on," said I, " I like to see a fellow * go the whole hog,*
while he is about it. How many did it take to kill her 1"

¥■

282

Lost at sea

" Well, massa, she told me herself, on her def bed, she didn't
eat no more nor ten or a do2en hogs, but she didn't blame dem, it
was having dere heads on did all the mischief. I was away when
dey was cooked, or it wouldn't a happened. I was down to
Charleston Bank to draw six hundred dollars for her, and when I
came back she sent for me. 'Sorrow,' sais she, * Plutarch has
poisoned me.'

" ' Oh, de black villain,' sais I, ' missus, I will tye him to a tree
and bum him.'

" ' No, no,' she said, * I will return good for ebil. Send for Rev.
Mr. Hominy, and Mr. Succatash, de Yankee oberseer, and tell
my poor granny Chloe her ole misses is dyin', and to come back,
hot foot, and bring Plutarch, for my disgestion is all gone.' Well,
when Plutarch came she said, ' Plue, my child, you have killed
your misses by cooking de hogs wid dere heads on, but I won't
punish you, I is intendin' to extinguish you by kindness among de
plantation niggers. I will heap coals of fire on your head.'

" ' Dat's right, missus,' sais I, 'burn de villain up, but burn him
with green wood so as to make slow fire, dat's right, dat's de ticket
missus, it served him right.'

" Oh, if you eber heard yell in' massa, you'd a heard it den, Plue
he trowed himself down on de ground and he rolled and he kicked
and he screamed like mad.

" ' Don't make a noise, Plutarch,' said she, * I can't stand it. I
ain't agoin' to put you to def. You shall lib. I will gib you a
wife.'

" ' Oh, tankee misses,' said he, ' oh, I will pray for you night and
day, when I ain't awake or asleep, for eber and eber.'

" * You shall ab Cloe for a wife.'

" Cloe, massa, was seventy-five, if she was one blessed second
old. She was crippled up with rheumatis, and walked on crutches,
and hadn't a tooth in her head, she was just doubled up like a tall
nigger on a short bed.

" ' Oh, Lord, missus,' said Plutarch, * hab mercy on dis sinner,
oh dear missus, oh lubly missus, oh hab mercy on dis child.'

" * Tankee, missus,' said Cloe- * God bless you, missus, I is quite
appy now. I is a leetle too young for dat spark, I is cuttin' a new
set o' teeth now, and ab suffered from teethin' most amazin, but I
will make him a lubin wife. Don't be shy, Mr. Plue,' said she,
and she up wid one ob her crutches and gub him a poke in de ribs
dat made him grunt like a pig. ' Come, tand up,' said she, ' till de
passon tie de knot round your neck.'

" ' Oh ! Lord, missus,' said he, ' ab massy !' But the parson '
married 'em, and said ' Salute your bride !' but he didn't move.

" ' He is so bashful,' said Cloe, takin* him round de neck and
kissin' ob him. * Oh, missus !' she said, * I is so proud ob my

e didn't
dem, it
ly when
lown to
. when I
irch has

to a tree

for Rev.
and tell
ae back,
' Well,
re killed
I won't
mong de

tmrn him
de ticket

ien, Plue
lie kicked

md it. I
ib you a

light and

second
Icrutches,
ike a tall

Is sinner,
d.'

Il is quite
In' a new
|in, but I
said she,
II de ribs
< till de

parson
love.
ieck and
ob my

LOST AT 8BA.

238

brideffroom — he do look so genteel wid ole massa's frill shirt on,
don't he ]'

" When dey went out, Cloe fetched him a crack obcr his pate
with her crutch that sounded like a eocoa-nut, it was so hollci%.

" * Take dat,' said she, ' for not sulten ob your bride, you good-
for-notten onmonerly scallawag you.'

'* Poor dear missus ! she died dat identical night.'

" Come here, Sorrow," said I : " come and look me in the face.""

The moment he advanced, Jerry ilipt across the room, and hid
behind the tongues near his wife. He was terrified to death.

" Do you mean to say," said I, " she died of going the whole
hog 1 Was it a hog — tell me the truth ]"

** Well, massa," said he, " I don't know to a zact sartainty, for I
was not dere when she was tooked ill — I was at de bank at de time
—but I will take my davy it was hogs or dogs. I wont just zackly
iartify which, because she was 'mazin fond of both ; but I will
swear it was one or toder, and dat dey was cooked wid dere heads
on—dat I will stificate to till I die !'

" Hogs or dogs," said I, " whole, with their heads on — do you
mean that 1"

** Yes, massa, dis here child do, of a sartainty."

" Hogi like the pig, and dogs like the Newfoundlander at the
door f

" Oh, no, massa, on course it don't stand to argument ob reason
it was. Oh, no, it was quatogs and quahogs — clams you know, we
calls 'em down South, for shortness, hogs and dogs. Oh, massa,
on course you know'd dat — I is sure you does — you is only in-
tendin' on puppose to make game of dis here nigger, isn't you."

" You villain," said I, " you took a rise out of me that time, at
any rate. It aint often any feller does that, so 1 think you deserve
a glass of the old Jamaica for it when we go on board. Now go
and shoot a Jesuit priest if you see one."

The gall explained the order to her mother.

" Shoot the priest," said she, in French.

" Shoot the priest," said Jerry j " shoot me I" And he popped
down behind his wife, as if he had no objection to her receiving the
ball.

She ran to her chest, and got out the little horn box with the
nail of St. Francis, and looked determined to die at her post. Sor-
row deposited the gun in the corner, hung down his head, and said :

" Dis here child, Massa Slick, can't do no murder."

'* Then I must do it myself," said I, rising and proceeding to get
my rifle.

" Sllek," said the Doctor, " what the devil do you mean 1"

"Why," says I, a setten down again, "I'll tell you. Jesuit

234

LOST AT SEA

j' '

priests were first seen in Spain and Portugal, where they are very
fond of them. I have often eaten them there."

" First seen in Spain and Portugal !" he replied. " You ai e out
ther#^but go on."

" There is a man," said I, " in Yorkshire, who says his ancestor
brought the first over from America, when he accompanied Cabot
in his voyages, and he has one as a crest. But that is all bunkum.
Cabot never saw one."

" What in the world do you call a Jesuit priest?"

" Why a turkey, to be sure," said I ; " that's what they call them
at Madrid and Lisbon, after the Jesuits who first introduced them
in Europe."

" My goody gracious !" said Sorrow, " if that ain't fun alive it's
a pity, that's all."

" Well," said Jerry, " I was lost at sea that time ; I was out of
sight of land, it puzzled me like 44° north, and 63° 40' west."

" Hogs, dogs, and Jesuit priests !" said the Doctor, and off he
set again, with hands on his sides, rushing round the room in con-
vulsions of laughter.

" The Priest," said I to the old woman, " has given him a pain
in his stomach," when she ran to the dresser again, and got the
cup of soot for him which had not yet been emptied.

" Oh dear !" said he, " I can't stand that ; oh. Slick, you will be
the death of me yet," and he bolted ont of the house.

Having purchased a bushel of clams from the old lady, and bid
her and her daughter good-bye, we vamosed the ranch.* At the
door I saw a noble gobbler.

" What will you take for that Jesuit priest," said I, " Jerry 1"
-i " Seven and sixpence," said he.

" Done," said I, and his head was perforated with a ball in an
instant.

The dog, unused to such a sound from his master's house, and
recollecting the damage he received from the fall of the Doctor, set
off* with the most piteous howls that ever were heard, and fled for
safety — the pigs squealed as if they had each been wounded — and
the geese joined in the general uproar — while old Madam Boudrot
and her daughter rushed screaming to the door, to ascertain what
these dreadful men were about, who talked of shooting priests and
eating hogs and dogs entire, with their heads on. It was some time
before order was restored, and when Jerry went into the house to
light his pipe and deposit his money, I called Cutler's attention to

* One of the numerous corruptions of Spanish words introduced into the
States since the Mexican war, and signifies to quit the ' house or shanty.
Rancho designates a hut, covered with branches, where herdsmen temporarily
reside.

f are very

ouaie out

is ancestor
lied Cabot
1 bunkum.

y call them
luced them

in alive it's

was out of
)' west."
and off he
)om in con-

him a pain
and got the

LOST AT gBA

235

you

will be

dy, and bid
* At the

" Jerry r

ball in an

house, and

Doctor, set

and fled for

lunded — and

im Boudi'ot

certain what

priests and

[s some time

Ithe house to

lattention to

iuced into the
ise or shanty-
Bn temporarily

the action and style of a horse in the pasture, whom my gun had
alarmed.

" That animal," says I, " must have dropped fmm tli© elouds. If
he is young and sound, and he moves as If be were both, he is
worth six hundred dollars. I must have blm, Qm y©u give him
a passage till we meet one of our large coal sbipi coming from
Picton."

" Certainly," said he.

"Jerry," sais I, when he returned, 'what In the world do you
keep such a fly-away devil as that for ? why don't you sell him and
buy cattle ? Can't you sell him at Halifax V*

" Oh !" said he, " I can't go there now no more, Mr, ^llck. The
boys call after me and say : Jerry, when did you see land ia«t 1 My
name is Jerry Boudrot, where am I? Jorry, I t)u)Ugbt you was
lost to sea ! Jerry, has your colt got any sllppares on yet f (shoes)
Jerry, what does 44—40 mean ? Oh ! I ean't stftnd it I"

" Why don't you send him by a neighbor ?"

" Oh ! none o' my neighbors can ride him. We eftn't break him.
We are fishermen, not horsemen."

" Where did he come from V

" The priest brought a mare from Canada with him, and this is
her colt. He gave it to me when I returned from being lost at
sea, he was so glad to see me. I wish you would buy him, Mr.
Slick ; you will have him cheap ; I can't do nothing with him, and
no fence will stop him."

" What the plague," sais I, " do you suppose I wftflt of a horse
on board of a ship I do you want me to be lost at seft, too ? and
besides, if I did try to oblige you," said I, " and offered you five
pounds for that devil nobody can ride, and no fence stop, you'd ask
seven pound ten right off. Now, that turkey Wtts not worth a
dollar here, and you asked at once seven and sixpence. Nobody-
can trade with you, you are so everlasting sharp. If you was lost
at sea, you know your way by land, at all events,"

" Well," sais he, " say seven pounds ten and you will have him."

" Oil ! of course," sais I, " there is capital pasture on board of a
vessel. Where am I to get hay till I send hm^ bomef*

" I will give you three hundred weight into the bargain/*

" Well," sais I, " let's look at him ; can you catch blm V*

He went into the house, and bringing out a pan of oats, and
calling him, the horse followed him into the stable, where he was
secured. I soon ascertained he was perfectly sound, and that he
was an uncommonly fine animal. I sent Sorrow on board for my
saddle and bridle, whip and spurs, and desired that the vessel might
be warped into the wharf. When the negro returned, I repeated
the terms of the bargain to Jerry, which beUitf assented to, the
animal was brought out into the centre of the neld, and while his

1 t

236

LOST AT SEA.

1$;

owner was talking to him, I vaulted into the saddle. At first he
seemed very much alarmed, snorting and blowing violently; he
then bounded forward and dashed out with his hind feet most furi-
ously, w^hich was succeeded by alternate rearing, kicking, and back-
ing. I don't think I ever see a crittur splurge so badly ; at last he
ran the whole length of the field, occasionally throwing up his heels
very high in the air, and returned unwillingly, stopping every few
minutes and plunging outrageously. On the second trial he again
ran, and for the first time I gave him both whip and spur, and made
him take the fence, and, in returning, I pushed him in the same
manner, making him take the leap as before. Though awkward
and ignorant of the meaning of the rein, the animal knew he was
in the hands of a power superior to his own, and submitted far
more easily than I expected.

When we arrived at the wharf I removed the saddle, and, placing
a strong rope round his neck, had it attached to the windlass, not to
drag him on board, but to make him feel, if he refused to advance,
that he was powerless to resist, an indispensable precaution in
breaking horses. Once, and once only, he attempted to escape ; he
reared and threw himself, but finding the strain irresistible, he
yielded, and went on board quietly. Jerry was as delighted to get
rid of him as I was to purchase him, and though I knew that seven
pound ten was as much as he could ever realize out of him, I felt I
ought to pay him for the hay, and also that I could well afford to
give him a little conciliation present ; so I gave him two barrels of
flour in addition, to enable him to make his peace with his wife,
whom he had so grossly insulted by asserting that his vow to
heaven was to hug the shore hereafter, and had no reference to her.
If I aint mistaken, Jerry Boudrot, for so I have named the animal
after him, will astonish the folks at Slickville ; for of all the horses
on this continent, to my mind, the real genuine Canadian is the best
by all odds.

" Ah ! my friend," said Jerry, addressing the horse, " you shall
soon be out of sight of land, like your master ; but, unlike him, I
hope you shall never be lost at sea."

■f.

.1 1' P

fiOLDIKO UP THB HIBBOB.

237

first he
tly; he
ast furi-
id back-
■j last he
lis heels
ery few
lie again
id made
he same
wkward
r he was
itted far

;, placing
}s, not to
advance,
,ution in
cape ; he
itible, he
3d to get
lat seven
(1, 1 felt I
ifford to
arrels of
lis wife,

vow to
e to her.

animal
le horses
the best

'ou shall
e him, I

CHAPTER XVIII.
HOLDING UP THE MIRROR.

From Halifax to Cumberland, Squire, the eastern coast of Nova
Scotia presents more harbors fit for the entrance of men-of-war
than the whole Atlantic coast of our country, from Maine to Mex-
ico. No part of the world I am acquainted v^ith, is so well sup-
plied, and so little frequented. They are " thar," as we say, but
where are the large ships ? growing in the forest, I guess. And the
large towns, all got to be built, I reckon. And the mines, why,
wanting to be worked. And the fisheries. Well, I'll tell you, if
you will promise not to let on about it. We are going to have them
by treaty, as we now have them by trespass. Fact is, we treat
with the British and the Indians in the same way. Bully them if
we can, and if that will not do, get the most valuable things they
have, in exchange for trash, like glass beads and wooden clocks.
Still, Squire, there is a vast improvement here, though I won't say
there aint room for more ; but there is such a change come over
the people, as is quite astonishing. The Blue-nose of 1854 is no
longer the Blue-nose of 1834. He is more active, more industrious,
and more enterprising. Intelligent the crittur always was, but
unfortunately he was lazy. He was asleep then, now he is wide
awake and up and doing. He never had no occasion to be ashamed
to shew himself, for he is a good looking feller, but he needn't now
be no longer skeered, to answer to his name, when the muster is
come, and his'n is called out in the roll, and say "here ami Sirree.^*
A new generation has sprung up, some of the drones are still about
the hive, but there is a young vigorous race coming on who will
keep pace with the age.

It's a great thing to have a good glass to look in now and then,
and see yourself. They have had the mirror held up to them.

Lord, I shall never forget when I was up to Rawdon here once, a
countryman came to the inn where I was, to pay me for a clock I
had put off on him, and as I was a passin through the entry I saw
the critter standin before the glass, awfully horrified.

" My good gracious," said he, a talking to himself, " ray good
gracious, is this you, John Smiler, I haven't seen you before now,
going on twenty years. Oh, how shockingly you are altered, I
shouldn't a known you, I declare."

Now, I have held the mirror to these fellows to see themselves
in, and it has scared them so they have shaved, slicked up, and
made themselves look decent. I won't say I made all the changes
myself, for Providence scourged them into activity, by sending the

238

HOLDING UP THE MIR&OB.

F. 1

' r
t

•I

weavel Into their wheat fields, the rot into thtlr potatoes, and tha
drought into the hay crops. It made them scratch round, I tell
you, so as to earn their grub, and the exertion did them good.
Well, the blisters I have put on their vanity, stung 'em so they
jumped high enough to see the right road, and the way they travel
ahead now is a caution to snails.

Now, if it was you, who had done your country this sarvice, you
would have spoke as mealy-mouthed of it as if butter wouldn't melt
in it. " I flatters myself," you would have said, " I had some llttla
small share in it." " I have lent my feeble aid." " I have contrlbu-
ted ray poor mite," and so on, and looked as meek, and felt a«
proud, as a Pharisee. Now, that's not my way. I hold up the
mirror, whether, when folks see themselves in it, they see me there
or not. The value of a glass is its truth. And where colonists
have suffered, is from false reports, ignorance, and misrepresenta-
tion. There is not a word said of them that can be depended on,
Missionary returns of all kinds are colored, and doctored to suit
English subscribing palates, and it's a pity they should stand at the
head of the list. British travellers distort things the same way.
They land at Halifax, where they see the first contrast between
Europe and America, and that contrast aint favorable, for the town
is dingy lookin and wants paint, and the land round it is poor and
stony. But that is enough, so they set down and abuse the whole
country, stock and fluke, and write as wise about it as if they had
seen it all, instead of overlooking one mile from the deck of a
steamer. The military enjoy it beyond anything, and are far more
comfortable than in soldiering in England ; but it don't do to say
so, for it counts for foreign service, and like the witnesses at the
court-marshal at Windsor, every feller said, non mi recordo. Gov-
ernors who now-a-days have nothing to do, have plenty of leisure
to write, and their sufferings are such, their pens are inadequate to
the task. They are very much to be pitied.

Well, colonists on the other hand seldom get their noses out of
it. But if provincials do now and then come up on the other side
of the big pond, like deep sea fish rising to the surface, they spout
and blow like porpoises, and try to look as large as whales, and
people only laugh at them. Navy officers extol the harbor and the
market, and the kindness and hospitality of the Haligonians, but
that is all they know, and as far as that goes they speak the truth.
It wants an impartial friend like me to hold up the mirror, both
for their sake& and the Downing Street officials too. Is it any
wonder then ihat the- English don't know what they are talking
about ? Did you ever hear of the devil's advocate, a nickname I
gave to one of the understrappers of the Colonial oflSce, an ear
mark that will stick to the feller for ever ! Well, when they go to
make a saint at Rome, and canonize some one who has been dead

and the
d, I tell
n good,
so they
y travel

irice, yoii
n't melt
me little
jontribu-
I felt as
. up the
me there
colonists
presentft.
nded on.
i to suit
nd at the
,me way,
betwet n
the town
)oor and
le whole
they had
eck of a
Ur more
o to say
at the
Gov-
■ leisure
quate to

s out of
ther side
ey spout
ales, and
and the
ians, but
truth,
■ror, both
it any
t talking
name I
an ear
[ey go to
ien dead

HOLDING UP THU MIRROR.

239

10 long he is in danger of being forgot, the cardinals hold a sort of
Couft-mai tiiil on him, and a man is appointed to rake and scrape
all he can agin him, and they listen very patiently to all he has to
iflv, so as not to do things in a hurry. He is called ' the devil's
Advocate,' but he never gained a cause yet. The same form used
to be gone through at Downing Street, by an underling, but he
always gained his point. The nickname of the ' devil's advocate'
that 1 gave him did his business for him, he is no longer there now.

The British cabinet wants the mirror held up to them, to show
thetn how they look to others. Now, when an order is transmitte i
by a minister of the crown, as was done last war, to send all Yan-
kee prisoners to the fortress of Louisburg for safe keeping, when
that fortress more than sixty years before had been so effectually
razed from the face of the earth by engineer officers sent from Eng-
land for the purpose, why it is natural a colonist should laugh, and
say capital ! only it is a little too good ; and when another minister
sayi, ho can't find good men to be governors, in order to defend
appointments that his own party say are too bad, what language is
strong enough to express his indignation. Had he said openly and
wanly, we are so situated, and so bound by parliamentary obliga-
tions we not only have to pass over the whole body of provincials
ih§M$etve8 who have the most interest and are best informed in colonial
matters, but we have to appoint some people like those to whom
you object, who are forced upon us by hollerin' their daylights out of
US at elections, when we would gladly select others, who are wholly
unexeeptionable, and their name is legion. Why they would have
pitied his condition and admired his manliness. If this sweeping
eharge be true, what an enconium it is upon the Dalhousies, the
©osfords, the Durhams, Sydenhams, Metcalfs and Elgins, that they
were ehosen because suitable men could not be found, if not sup-
ported by party. All that can be said for a minister who talks
sueh stuff, is that a man who knows so little of London as to be
unable to find the shortest way home, may easily lose himself in
the wilds of Canada.

Now we licked the British when we had only three millions of
people, including niggers, who are about as much use in a war as
erows that feed on the slain, but don't help to kill 'em. We have
* run up' an empire, as we say of a ' wooden house,* or as the gall
who was asked where she was raised, said ' she warn't raised, she
growed up.* We have shot up into manhood, afore our beards
grew, and have made a nation that aint afeard of all creation.
Where will you find a nation like ours % Answer me that question
but don't reply as an Irishman does by repeating it. ' Is it where
1 will find one, your honor ? '

Minister used to talk of some old chap, that killed a dragon and
planted his teeth, and armed men sprung up. As soon as we whip-

it :

f
I*'

S40

HOLDING tip THB MIBBOB.

ped the British we sowed their teeth, and full-grown coons growed
right out of the earth. Lord bless you, we have fellows like Crocket
that would sneeze a man-of-war right out of the water.

We have a right to brag ; in fact it aint braggin, its talking his-
tory, and cramming statistics down a fellow's throat, and if he
wants tables to set down to, and study them, there's the old chairs
of the governors of the thirteen united universal worlds of the old
states, besides the rough ones of the new states to sit on, and can-
vas-back ducks, blue point oysters, and as Sorrow says, " hogs and
dogs," for soup and pies, for refreshment from labor, as freemasons
say. Brag is a good dog and holdfast is a better one, but what do
you say to a cross of the two— and that's just what we are. An
English statesman actually thinks nobody knows anything but
himself. And his conduct puts folks both on the defensive and
offensive. He eyes even an American all over as much as to say,
where the plague did you originate, what field of cotton or tobacco
was you took from, and if a Canadian goes to Downing-street, the
secretary starts, as much as to say, I hope you han't got one o'
them rotten eggs in your hand, you pelted Elgin with. Upon my
soul, it wern't my fault, his indemnifyin' rebels, we never encourage
traitors except in Spain, Sicily, Hungary, and places we have
nothin' to do with. He brags of purity as much as a dirty piece of
paper does, that it was originally clean.

" We appreciate your loyalty most fully T assure you," he says.
" When the militia put down the rebellion, without efficient aid
from the military, parliament would have passed a vote of thanks
to you for your devotion to our cause, but really we were so busy
just then we forgot it. Put that egg in your pocket, that's a good
fellow, but don't set down on it, or it might stain the chair, and
folks might think you was frightened at seeing so big a man as me,"
and then he would turn round to the window and laugh.

Whoever brags over me gets the worst of it, that's a fact. Lord,
I shall never forget a rise I once took out of one of these magnetized
officials, who know all about the colonies, tho' they never saw one.
I don't want any man to call me coward, and say I won't take it
passonal. There was a complaint made by some of our folks,
against the people of the Lower provinces seizing our coasters
under pretence they were intrudin on the fisheries, our embassador
was laid up at the time with rheumatism which he called gout,
because it sounded diplomatic. So says he, '' Slick, take this letter
and deliver it to the minister, and give him some verbal explana-
tions."

Well, down I goes, was announced and ushered in, and when he*
saw me, he looked me all over as a tailor does a man before he
takes his measure. It made me hoppin' mad I tell you, for in a
general way I don't allow any man to turi^ up his nose at me

as growed
:e Crocket

alking his-
and if he
old chairs
of the old
1, and can-
" hogs and
freemasons
ut what do
8 are. An
ything but
fensive and
1 as to say,
or tobacco
;-street, the
got one o*
Upon my
r encourage
js we have
rty piece of

u," he says.

sfficient aid
;e of thanks
|ere so busy

lat's a good
chair, and

lan as me

HOLDING UP THE MIBBOB.

241

fact. Lord,
[magnetized
jr saw one.
l)n't take it
our folks,
jr coasters
embassador
illed gout,
this letter
x\ explana-

id when he*

before he

for in a

lose at mo

without having a shot at it. So when I sat down I spit into the
fire, in a way to put it out araost, and ' drew back and made a
face, a leetle, just a leetle uglier then his natural one was.

' Bad habit,'' sals I, " that of spittin', aint it ? " lookin* up at
him as innocent as you please, and makin a face exactly like his.

" Very,'' said he, and he gave a shudder.

Sais I, " I don't know whether you are aware of it or not, but
most bad habits are catching."

" I should hope not," said he, and he drew a little further off.

" Fact," sais I, " now if you look long and often at a man that
winks, it sets you a winkin'. If you see a fellow with a twitch in
his face, you feel your cheek doin' the same, and stammerin' is
catching too. Now I caught that habit at court, since I came to
Europe. I dined wunst with the King of Prussia, when I was with
the embassador on a visit at Berlin, and the King beats all natur in
spittin', and the noise he makes afbrehand is like clearin' a grate
out with a poker, it's horrid. Well, that's not the worst of it, he
uses that ugly German word for it, that vulgarians translate " spit-
ting." Now «ome of our western people are compelled to chew a
little tobacco, but like a broker tasting cheese, when testing wine,
it is only done to be able to judge of the quality of the article, but
even them unsophisticated, free and enlightened citizens, have an
innate refinement about them. They never use that nasty word,
but call it " expressing the ambiaj" Well, whenever his Majesty
crosses my mind, I do the same out of clear sheer disgust. Some
o' them sort of uppercrust people think they can do as they like,
and I call them big bugs who use the privilege of indulging those
evil habits. When folks like the king do it, I calls them " High,
low, jack, and the game."

Well, the stare he gave me would a made you die a larfin' ; I
never saw a man in my life look so skeywonaky. He knew it was
true that the king had that custom, and it dumbfoundered him.
He looked at me as much as to say, well, that is capital ; the idea
of a Yankee, who spits like a garden engine, swearing it's a bad
habit he larned in Europe, and a trick he got from dining with a
king, is the richest thing I ever heard in my life. I must tell that
to Palmerston.

But I didn't let him off so easy. In the course of talk, says he :

" Mr. Slick, is it true that in South Carolina, if a free nigger, on
board of one of our vessels, lands there, he is put into jail until the
ship sails ?"

" It is," said I. " We consider a free nigger and a free English-
man on a par ; we imprison a free black lest he should corrupt
our slaves. The Duke of Tuscany imprisons a free Engl' hman, if
he has a bible in his possession, lest he should corrupt h.3 slaves.
11

243

HOLDING UP TBTB MIRROR.

It*s upon the principle, that what Is sauce for the goose, Is sance fbr
the gander."

He didn't pursue the subject.

That's what I call brag fur brag. We never allow any created
critter, male or female, to go aliead of us in anything. I heard a
lady say to an embassador's wife, once, in answer to her question,
" how she was ?"

" Oh, I am in such rude health, I have grown quite indeeentli/
stout."

Embassadress never heard them slang words before (fbr even
high life has its slang), but she wouldn't be beat.

" Oh," said she, " all that will yield to exercise. Before I was
married I was the rudest and tnost indecent gall in all Connecticut."

Well, now, an Irishman, with his elbow through his coat, and his
shirt, if he has one, playing diggy-doubt from his ti*ow8ers,
flourishes his shillalah over his head, and brags of the ' Imirald Isle,'
and the most splendid pisantry in the world ; a Scotchman boasts,
that next to the devil and the royal owner of Etna, he is the richest
proprietor of sulphur that ever was beard of; while a Frenchman,
whose vanity exceeds both, has the modesty to call the English a
nation of shopkeepers, the Yankees, canaille^ and all the rest of the
world beasts. Even John Chinaman swaggers about with his three
tails, and calls foreigners " Barbarians." If we go ahead and speak
out, do you do so, too. You have a right to do so. Hold the
mirror to them, and your countrymen, too. It won't lie, that's a
fact. They require it, I assure you. The way the just expecta-
tions of provincials have been disappointed, the loyal portion
depressed, the turbulent petted, and the manner the feelings of all
disregarded, the contempt that has accompanied concessions, the
neglect that has followed devotion and self-sacrifice, and the extra-
ordinary manner the just claims of the meritorious postponed to
parliamentary support, has worked a change in the feelings of the
people, that the Downing street officials cannot understand, or
surely they would pursue a different course-. They want to have
the mirror held up to them.

I know they feel sore here about the picture my mirror gives
them, and it's natural they should, especially comin' from a Yankee ;
and they call me a great bragger. But that's nothin' new ; doctors
do the same when a feller cures a poor wretch they have squeezed
like a sponge, ruinated, and gin up as past hope. They sing out
quack. But I don't care ; I have a righi co brag nationally and in-
dividually, and I'd be no good if I did'nt take my own part. Now;
though I say it that shouldn't say it, for I ain't afraid to speak out,
the sketches I send you are from life ; I paint things as you will find
them and know them to be. I'll take a bet of a hundred dollars,
ten people out of twelve in this country, will recognize Jerry

BOLDINO UP THE MI B BOB.

243

Is satrce fbr

any created

I heard a

sr question,

e indecently

e (for even

►efore I was
ormecticut."
M)at, and his
s trowsera,
rairald Isle/
man boasts,
9 the richest
Frenchman,
te English a
3 rest of the
ith his three
bd and speak
I Hold the
lie, that's a
ast expecta-
yal portion
elings of all
sessions, the
d the extra-
ostponed to
lings of the
ierstand, or
ant to have

lirror gives
[1 a Yankee ;
)w; doctors
ve squeezed
ey sing out
lally and in-
tart. Now;
> speak out,
ou will find
red dollars,
jnize Jerry

Boudrot^s house who have never entered it, but who have seen
others exactly like it, and will say, " I know who is meant by Jerry
and his daughter and wife ; I have often been there ; it is at Clare,
or Arichat, or Pumnico, or some such place or another."

Is that braggin 1 Not a bit ; it's only the naked fact. To my
mind, there is no vally in a sketch, if it aint true to nature. We
needn't go searching about for strange people or strange things ;
life is full of them. There is queerer things happening every day
than an author can imagine for the life of him. It takes a great
many odd people to make a world; that's a fact. Now, if I
describe a house that has an old hat in one win'^ow, and a pair of
trousers in another, I don't stop to turn glazier, take *em out, and
put whole glass in, nor make a garden where there is none, and put
a large tree in the foreground for effect ; but I take it as I find it,
and I take people in the dress I find 'em in, and if I set 'em a talkin',
I take their very words down. Nothing gives you a right idea of
a country and its people like that.

There is always some interest in natur', where truly depicted.
Minister used to say that some author (I think he said it was eld Dic-
tionary Johnson) remarked that the life of any man, if wrote truly,
would be interesting. I think so, too ; for every man has a story of his
own, adventures of his own, and some things have happened to him
that never happened to anybody else. People here abuse me for
all this ; they say, after all my boastin* I don't do 'em justice. But
after you and I are dead and gone, and things have been changed,
as it is to be hoped they will, some day or another, for the better,
unless they are like their Acadian French neighbors, and intend to
remain just as they are for two hundred and fifty years, then these
sketches will be curious; and, as they are as true to life as a Dutch
picture, it will be interestin' to see what sort of folks were here
in 1854, how they lived, and how they employed themselves, and
so on.

Now it's more than a hundred years ago since Smollett wrote,
but his men and women were taken from real life, his sailors from
the navy, his attorneys from the jails and criminal courts, and his
fops and fine ladies from the herd of such cattle thab he daily met
with. Well, they are read now ; I have 'em to home, and laugh
till I cry over them. Why 1 Because natur is the same always.
Although we didn't live a hundred years ago, we can see how the
folks of that age did ; and, although society is altered, and there
are no Admiral Benbows, nor Hawser Trunnions, and folks don't
travel in vans with canvas covers, or wear swords, and frequent
taverns, and all that, as they used to did to England ; still it's a
pictur of the times, and instructin' as well as amusin'. I have
learned more how folks dressed, talked, and lived, and thought, and
what sort of critters they were^ and whal the state •£ soeiety, high

244

HOLDING UP THB MIBBOB.

v'i"

and low, was then, from his books and Fielding's, than any I know
of. They are true to life, and as long as natur remains the same,
which it always will, they will be read. That's my idea at least.

Some squeamish people turn up the whites of their peepers at
both those authors, and say they are coarse. How can they be
otherwise ? society was coarse. There are more veils worn now,
but the devil still lurks in the eye under the veil. Things ain't
talked of so openly, or done so openly in modern as in old times.
There is more concealment; and concealment is called delicacy.
But where concealment is, the passions are excited by the difficul-
ties imposed by society. Barriers are erected too high to scale, but
every barrier has its wicket, its latch key, and its private door.
Natur is natur still, and there is as much of that that is condemned
in his books, now, as there was then. There is a horrid sight of
hypocrisy now, more than there was one hundred years ago ; vice
was audacious then, and scared folks. It aint't so bold, at present,
as it used to did to be ; but if it is forbid to enter the drawing-room,
the back staircase is still free. Where there is a will there is a
way, and always will be. I hate pretence, and, above all, mock
modesty ; it's a bad sign.

I knew a clergyman to home, a monstrous pious man, and so
delicate-minded, he altered a great many words and passages in the
Church Service, he said he couldn't find it in his heart to read them
out in meetin, and yet that fellow to my sartain knowledge was the
greatest scamp in private life I ever knew. Gracious knows, I don't
approbate coarseness, it shocks me, but narvous sensibility makes me
sick. I like to call things by their right names, and I call a leg a
leg, and not a larger limb, a shirt a shirt, though it is next the skin,
and not a linen vestment, and a stocking a stocking, though it does
reach up the leg, and not a silk hose; and a garter a garter, though
it is above the calf, and not an elastic band or a hose suspender.
A really modest woman was never squeamish. Fastidiousness is the
envelope of indelicacy. To see harm in ordinary words, betrays a
knowledge and not ignorance of evil.

But that is neither here nor there, as I was sayin, when you are
dead and gone, these journals of mine which you have edited,
when mellowed by time, will let the hereafter-to-be Blue-noses, see
what the has been Nova Scotians here from '34 to '54 were. Now
if something of the same kind had been done when Halifax was
first settled a hundred years ago, what strange coons the old folks
would seem to us. That state of society has passed away as well
as the actors. For instance, when the militia was embodied to do
duty so late as the Duke of Kent's time. Ensign Lane's name was
called on parade. " Not here," said Lieutenant Glover, " he is
mending Sargent Street's breeches."

Many a quetr thing occurred then thai would make a ^UMr

HOLDINQ UP THB MIBBOB.

245

I know
e same,
, least,
jpers at
they be
rn now,
gs ain't
d times,
lelicacy.
diflicul-
jale, but
to door,
demned
sight of
;o ; vice
present,
ig-room,
ere is a
11, mock

and so

is in the

ad them

was the

}, I don't

akes me

a leg a

le skin,

it does

though

spender.

ss is the

etrays a

you are
edited,
)ses, see
Now
fax was
ad folks
as well
id to do
me was
"he is

^UMr

book, I assure you. There is much that is characteristic both to
be seen and heard in every harbor in this province, the right way
is to jot all down. Every place has its standing topic. At Wind-
sor it ia the gypsum trade, the St. John's steamer, the Halifax
coach, and a new house that is building. In King's County its
export of potatoes, bullocks and horses. At Annapolis, cord-
wood, oars, staves, shingles, and agricultural produce of all kinds.
At Digby, smoked herrings, fish-weirs and St. John markets. At
Yarmouth, foreign freights, berthing, rails, cat-heads, lower cheeks,
wooden bolsters, and the crown, palm, and shank of anchors. At
Shelburne, it is divided between fish, lumber, and the price of. ves-
sels. At Liverpool, ship-building, deals and timber, knees, tran-
sums and futtucks, pintles, keelsons, and moose lines. At Lunen-
burg, Jeddore and Chesencook, the state of the market at the
capital. At the other harbors further to the eastward, the coal
trade and the fisheries engross most of the conversation. You
hear continually of the fall run and the spring catch of mackerel
that set in but don't stop to hait. The remarkable discovery of
the French coasters, that was made fifty years ago, and still is as
new and as fresh as ever, that when fish are plenty there is no salt,
and when salt is abundant there are no fish, continually startles
you with its novelty and importance. While you are both amused
and instructed by learning the meaning of coal cakes, Albion tops,
and what a Chesencooker delights in, " slack," you also find out
that a hundred tons of coal at Sydney, means when it reaches Hali-
fax one hundred and fifteen, and that West India, Mediterranean
and Brazilian fish are actually made on these shores. These local
topics are greatly diversified by politics, which like crowfoot and
whiteweed, abound everywhere.

Halifax has all sorts of talk. Now if you was writin and not
me, you would have to call it, to please the people, that flourishing
great capital of the greatest colony of Great Britain, the town
with the harbor, as you say of a feller who has a large handle to
his face, the man with the nose, that place that is destined to be
the (London) of America, which is a fact if it ever fulfils its destiny.
The little scrubby dwarf spruces on the coast are destined not to
be lofty pines, because that can't be in the natur of things,
although some folks talk as if they expected it; but they are
destined to be enormous trees, and although they havn't grown ofi
inch the last fifty years, who can tell but they may exceed the
expectations that has been formed of them. Yes, you would have
to give it a shove, it wants it bad enough, and lay it on thick too,
so as it will stick for one season.

It reminds me of a Yankee I met at New York wunst •, he was
disposin' of a new hydraulic cement he had invented. Now,
cements either to resist fire or water, or to mend the most delicate

y?S!'-

ft, .

If 51

"1
I, I

246

HOLDXKO UP THK MIRROR.

china, or to stop a crack in a stove, is a thing I rather pride myself
on. I make my own cement always, it is so much better than any
I can buy.

Sals I, " what are your ingredients ?"

" Yes," sais he, " tell you my secrets, let the cat out of the bag
for you to catch by the tail. No, no," sais he, " excuse me if you
please."

It ryled me that, so I just steps up to him, as savage as a meat-
axe, intendin' to throw him down stairs, when the feller turned as
pale as a rabbit's belly, I vow I could hardly help laughin, so I
didn't touch him at all.

" But," sais I, " you and the cat in the bag may run to Old Nick,
and see which will get there first, and say tag — I don't want the
secret, for 1 don't believe you know yourself. If I was to see a
bit of the cement, and break it up myself, I'd tell you in a moment
whether it was good for anything."

"Well," sais he, "I'll tell you;" and he gave me all the par-
ticulars.

Sais I, " it's no good, two important ingredients are wantin', and
you haven't tempered it right, and it won't stick."

Sais he, " I guess it will stick till I leave the city, and that will
answer me and my eends."

" No," sais I, " it won't, it will ruin you forever, and injure the
reputation of Connecticut among the nations of the airth. Come to
me when I return to Slick ville, and I will show you the proper thing
in use, tested by experience, in tanks, in brick and stone walls, and
in a small furnace. Give me two thousand dollars for the receipt,
take out a patent, and your fortune is made."

" Well," sais lie, " 1 will if it's all you say, for there is a great
demand for the article, if it's only the true Jeremiah."

" Don't mind what I say," said I, " ask it what it says, there it
is, go look at it."

Well, you would have to give these Haligonians a coat of white-
wash that -would stick till you leave the town. But that's your
affair and not mine. I hold the mirror truly, and don't flatter.
Now, Halifax is a sizable place, and covers a good deal of ground,
it is most as large as a piece of chalk, which will give a stranger a
very good notion of it. It is the seat of government, and there are
soijie very important officers there, judging by their titles. There
are a receiver-general, an accountant-general, an attorney-general,
a solicitor-general, a commissary -general, an assistant commissary-
general, the general in command, the quartermaster-general, the
adjutant-general, the vicar-general, surrogate-general, and postmas-
ter-general. His excellency the governor, and his excellency the
admiral. The master of the rolls, their lordships the judges, tho
lord-bishop, and the archbishop, archdeacon, secretary for the Home

HOLDIKO UP THB MIBBOB.

247

le myself
than any

f the bag
ne if you

\,3 a meat-
turned as
;hin, so I

Did Nick,
want the
s to see a
I moment

.1 the par-

ntin*, and

[ that will

injure the
Come to
oper thing
ivalls, and
e receipt,

is a great

s, there it

cf white-
lat's your
I't flatter,
ground,
stranger a

there are
s. There
y-general,
nmissary-
neral, the

postmas-
llency the
idges, the
the Home

department, and a host of great men, with the handle of honorable
to their names. Mayors, colontli, and captains, whether of the
regulars or the militia, they don't count more than fore-cabin pas-
sengers. It ain't considered genteel for them to come abaft the
paddle-wheel. Indeed the quarter-deck wouldn't accommodate so
many. Now, there is the same marvel about this small town that
there wa« about the scholar's head —

" And itill the wonder grew,
How one nanM head could cany all he knew.'*

Well, It is a wonder so many great men can be w^arm-clothed,
bedded down, and well stalled there, ain't it ? But they are, and
very comfortably too. This is the upper crust, now the under
crust consists of lawyers, doctors, merchants, army and navy folks,
small officials, articled clerks, and so on. Well, in course such a
town, 1 beg pardon, it is a city, (which is more than Liverpool in
England is,) and has two cathedral churches, with so many grades,
trades, blades, and pretty maids in it, the talk must be various.
The military talk is professional, with tender reminiscences of home,
and some little boasting, that they are suffering in their country's
cause, by being so long on foreign service at Halifax. ITie.young
sword-knots that have just joined are brim full of ardor, and swear
by Jove (the young heathens) it is too bad to be shut up in this
vile hole, (youngsters, take my advice, and don't let the town's-
people hear that, or they will lynch you) instead of going to Con-
stantinople.

" I say, Lennox, wouldn't that be jolly work ?"

" Great work," says Lennox, " rum coves those Turks must be
in the field, eh 1 The Colonel is up to a thing or two ; if he was
knocked on the head, there would be such promotion, no one would,
lament him, but his dear wife and five lovely daughters, and they
would be really distressed to lose him."

He don't check the youthful ardor, on the contrary, chimes in,
and Is in hopes he can make interest at the Horse-guards for the
regiment to go yet, and then he gives a wink to the doctor, who
was in the corps when he was a boy, as much as to say, " old fel-
low, you and I have seen enough of the pleasures of campaigning
in our day, eh! Doctor, that is good wine ; but it's getting con-
foiuided dear lately ; I don't mind it myself, but it makes the
«?xpcti8e of the mess fall heavy upon the Youngsters." The jolly
sum* look across the table and wink, for they know that's all bun-
kum.

" Doctor," sais a new hand, " do you know if Cargill has sold his
orses. His Icada is a cleverwish saut of thing, but the wheela is a

248

HOLDING UP THB HIBSOB.

riglax bute. That*»a goodish orse the Admewall vrides y I wonder
ifhe is going to take him ome yirith him."

" Haven't heard — can^t say. Jones, what's that thing that wont
burn, do you know ? Confound the thing, I have got it on the tip
of my tongue too."

" AsphiJt," sais Jones.

** No ! that's not it ; that^s what wide-awakes are made o£"

" Perhaps so,*' says Gage, *' as»yelt is very app'opriate for a
fooPs cap.'

At which there is a great roar. .^^ ^?

« No ; but really what is it 1"

" Is it arbutus 1" sais Simpkins, " I think they make it at Kil-
lamey — ^"

" No, no ; oh f I have ft, asbestos ; well, that's what I believe
the cigars here are made of—they wont go."

'* There are a good many things here that are no go," sais Gage,
" like Perry's bills on Coutts ; but. Smith, where did you get that
flash waistcoat i saw last night 1"

" Oh ! that was worked by a poor despairing girl at Bath, during
a fit of the scarlet fever."

" It was a memento mori then, I suppose," replies the other.

But all the talk is not quite so frivolous. Opposite to that large
stone edifice is an old cannon standing cm end at the comer of the
street, to keep carriages from trespassing on the pavement, and the
non-military assemble round it ; they are civic great guns. They
are discussing the great event of the season — the vote of want of
confidence of last night, the resignation of the provincial ministry
this morning, and the startling fact that the head upholsterer has
been sent for to furnish a new cabinet, that wont warp with the
heat and fly apart. It is very important news ; it has been tele-
graphed to Washington, and was considered so alarming, the Pre-
sident was waked up to be informed of it. He rubbed his eyes
and said : ,

" Well, I acknowledge the com, you may take my hat. I hope
I may be cowhided if I knew they had a ministry. I thought they
only had a governor, and a regiment for a constitution. Will it
affect the stocks? How it will scare the Emperor of Rooshia,
wont it?" and he roared so loud he nearly choked. That just
shows (everybody regards the speaker with silence for he is an ora-
cle,) says Omniscient Pitt, that just shows how little the Yankees
know and how little the English care about us. " If we want to
be indepindent and respictable," sais an Hibernian magnate, " we
must repale the Union." But what is this, here is a fellow tied
hand and foot on a truck, which is conveying him to the police ^
court, swearing and screaming horribly. What is the meaning of'
all that?

PI'

III

BOLDINO UP THB MZSBOS*

249

wonder

lat wont
(1 the tip

te for a

t at Kil-

I believe

lis Gage,
, get that

\hj during

ler.

hat large

er of the

I, and the

i. They

want of

ministry

erer has

with the

een tele-

the Pre-

his eyes

I hope

rht they

Will it

Looshia,

[hat just

an ora-

["ankees

Iwant ta

Ite, " we

low tied

police ^

ling of'

A little cynical old man, commonly called tb« mftjor^ looks
knowing, puts on a quizzical expression, and touabing hii no«e with
the tip of his finger, says, " One of the new maglitftttoi qualifying
as he goes down to be sworn into office/'

It makes the politicians smile, restores their equanimity, and
they make room for another committee of iiafetv, A liiile lower
down the street, a mail-coach is starting for Windior, and ten or fif
teen men are assembled doing their utmoit, and twenty or thirty
boys helping them, to look at the passengeri } but are unexpect-
edly relieved from their arduous duty by a military band at the
head of a marchi)ig regiment.

Give me the bar though. I don't mean the bar-room, though
there are some capital songs sung, and good itoriei told, and first-
rate rises taken out of green ones, in that bar-room at the big
hotel ; but I mean the lawyers. They are the merrieet and best
fellows everywhere. They fight like prize-boxers in public and be-
fore all the world, and shake hands when they set to and after it's
over. Preachers, on the contrary, write anonvmous letters in
newspapers or let fly pamphlets at each other and eali ugly names.
While doctor^ ^o from house to house insinuating, undermining,
shrugging sk v .;rs, turning up noses, and looking as amazed as
when they w* .; > si bom into the world, at each other's prescrip-
tions. Well, politicians are dirty birds too j they get up all sorts
of lies against each other, and if any one lays an egg. tother
swears it was «tole out of his nest. J3ut lawyers are aoove all
these tricks, j. .^ soon as court is ended, off they go arm-in-arm,
as if they had both been fighting on one side, *^ fsay, Blowem,
that was a capital hit of yours, making old Gurdy swear he was
king of the mountains."

"Not half as good as yours, Monk, telling the witness he
couldn't be a partner, for the plaintiff had put in all the * stock in
hand,' and he had only put in his ' stock in feet/ "

They are full of stories too, tragic as well as eomie, pieked up in
the circuits.

" Jones, do you know McFarlane of Barney's Eiver, a Presby-
terian clergyman 1 He told me he was once in a remote district
there where no minister had ever been, and visiting the house of a
settler of Scotch descent, he began to examine the children,

" * Well, my man,' said he, patting on the shoulder a stout junk
of a boy of about sixteen years of age, * Can you tell me what is
the chief end of man ?'

« ' Yes, Sir,' said he. * To pile and bum brush/*

" * No, it aint,' said his sister.

* In clearing woodland, after the trees are chopped down And «ttt into con-
vaaifSMt mms fpr handling, they ue pU«fd into hssps end bumid,
11* '

250

HOLDING VV THB MIBBOR.

" * Ob, but it is though,' replied the boy, * for father told me so

himself.'

"'No, no,' said the minister, Mt's not that; but perhaps, mjr

dear,' addressing the girl, * you can tell me what it is V

" ' Oh, yes. Sir,' said she, * I can tell you, and so could John, but

he never will think before he speaks.'

« ' Well, what is it, dear 1' ' '"^' "

" * Why, the chief end of man. Sir, is his head and shoulders.*
" * Oh,' said a little lassie that was listening to the conversation,

* if you know all these things, Sir, can you tell me if Noah had any
butterflies in the ark 1 I wonder how in the world he ever got
hold of them ! Many and many a beauty have I chased all day, and
I never could catch one yet.' "

" I can tell you a better one than that," says Larry Hilliard.
"Do you recollect old Hardwood, our under-sheriff? He has a
very beautiful daughter, and she was married last week at St.
Paul's Church, to a lieutenant in the navy. There was such an im-
mense crowd present (for they were considered the handsomest
couple ever married there) that she got so confused she could
hardly get through the responses. When the archdeacon said,

* Will you have this man to be your wedded husband 1'

" ' Yes,' she said, and made a slight pause, and then became be-
wildered and got into her catechism. ' Yes,' she said, * By God's
grace I will, and I humbly thank my Heavenly Father for having
brought me to this state of salvation.'

" It was lucky she spoke low, and that the people didn't dis-
tinctly hear her, but it nearly choaked the parson."

" lalking of church anecdotes," says Lawyer Martin, " reminds
me of old Parson Byles, of St. John's, New Brunswick. Before
the American rebellion, he was rector at Boston, and he had a cu-
rate who always preached against the Roman Catholics. It tickled
the Puritans, but didn't injure the Papists, for there were none
there at that time. For three successive Sundays he expounded
the text, * And Peter's wife's mother lay ill of a fever.'

" From which he inferred priests ought to marry. Shortly after
that the bell was tolling, and somebody asked Dr. Byles who was
dead?

"Says he, and he looked solemcoly, shut one eye and winked
with the other, as if he was trying to shut that also : * I rather
think it is Peter's wife's mother, for she has been ill of a fever for
three weeks.' " ,

There are charms in these little "home scenes," these little
detached sketches which are wholly lost in a large landscape.

There is one very redeeming property about the people.
Although they differ widely in politics, I infer that they live in the
greatest possibU huvaoikj togAtlMr^ firOBi: the fitofe thftt UW y ifHttk

B0L1)1N& VT THB MIBKOB.

251

Id me 80
laps, my
ohD,but

Iders.'
ersation,
had any
e\er got
day, and

Hilliard.
Ele has a
sk at St.
ch an im-
idsomest
ihe could
son said,

icame be-
By God's
}r haying

idn't dis-

reminds
Before

lad a cu-
lt tickled
rere none
cpounded

rtly after
who was

i winked
' I rather
fever for

ese little
pe.

I people.
ive in the

©f each other like raembers of the same family* The word Mr. is
laid aside as too cold and formal, and the whole Christian name as
too ceremonious. Their most distinguished men speak of each
other, (and the public follow their example,) as Joe A, or Jim B,
or Bill C, or Tom D, or Fite this, or Dick that. It sounds odd to
strangers, no doubt ; but the inference that may be drawn from it,
is one of great amiability.

Still, in holding up the mirror, hold it up fairly, and take in all
the groups, and not merely those that excite ridicule. Halifax has
more real substantial wealth about it than any place of its size in
America — wealth not amassed by reckless speculation, but by
judicious enterprise, persevering industry, and consistent economy,
in like manner, there is better society in it than in any similar
American or colonial town, A man must know the people to ap-
preciate them. He must mit merely judge by those whom he is
accustomed to meet at the social board, for they a-re not always
the best specimens anywhere ; but by those also who prefer retire-
ment, and a nai'rower circle, and rather avoid general society, as
not suited to their tastes. The character of its mercantile men
stands very high, and those that are engaged in professional pur-
•suits are distinguished for their ability and integrity. In short, as
a colonist, Squire, you may at least be satisfied to hear from a
stranger like me, that they contrast so favorably with those who
are sent officially among them from England, that they need not be
ashamed to see themselves grouped with the best of them, in the
same mirror.

Yes, yes. Squire, every place has its queer people, queer talk,
and queer grouping. I draw what is before me and I can't go
wrong. Now, if the sketcher introduces his own person into his
foregrounds, and I guess I figure in all mine as large as life, (for
like a respectable man i never forget myself,) he must take care
he has a good likeness of his skuldiferous head, as well as a flattering
one. Now, you may call it crackin and braggin, and all that sort
of a thing, if you please, but 1 must say, I allow that I look, sit,
walk, stand, eat, drink, smoke, think, and talk, aye and brag too,
like a Yankee clockmaker, don't you i Ye^, there is a decided and
manifest improvement in the appearance of this province. When
I say the province, I don't refer to Halifax alone, though there are
folks there, that think it stands for and represents the whole colony.
1 mean what I say in using that expression, which extends to me
country at large — and I am glad to see this change, for I like it.
And, tnere is a still more decided and manifest improvement in the
people, and I am glad of that too, for I like them also. Now, I'll
tell you one great reason of this alteration Blue-nose has seen
himself as other folks see hira, he has had " the mirror held up to
Mm:*

252

THE BUNDLE 07 ITICXS*.

I
I

ill.

CHAPTER XIX,
THE BUNDLE OF STICKS.

■'I I

il' V'

I HAD hardly entered these remarks in my Journal, and wcmd$d
the companion-ladder, -when the Doctor jomed me in my quarter'
deck walk, and said, "Mr. Slick, what is yoar opinion of the 8t;at&
of these North American colonies."

What a carious thing these coincidences are. Squire,, aint they f
How oflen when you are speaking of a man, he unexpectedly mukm
his appearance, don'^t he ? or if you ara thinking of a sulject, th»
person who is with you starts the same topic, or if you are a going;
to say a thing, he takes as we say the very words out of your
mouth. It is something more than accident that, but what f» It 7
Is it animal magnetism, or what is it? Well, I leare you to aniwer
that question, for I can't.

" Their growth heats all. The way they are going abeftd is ft
caution to them that live in Sleepy Hollow, a quiet little place th#
English call Downing Street. It astonishes them as a young turkey
does a hen that has hatched it, thinking it was a chicken of her own*
She don't know what in the world to make of the great long-legged^
long-bodied crittur, that is six times as large as herself that ba»
cheeks as red as if it drank brandy, an imperial as large as a Run*
sian dragoon, eats all the food of the poultry-yard, takes a shookfns
sight of nursing when it is young, and gets as sarcy as the derli
when it grows up."

** Yes," said he, " I am aware of its growth > but what do you
suppose is the destiny of British North America T

" Oh," sais I, " I could tell you if I was Colonial minister, be*
cause I should then have the power ta guide that destiny, I know
fall well what ought to be done, and the importance of doing i(
soon, but I am not in the position to give them the right direction.
No English statesmen have the information^ the time, or the ineli*
nation to meddle with the subject. To get rid of the bother of
them, they have given up all control and said to them, * there i»
responsible government for you, now tortle off hum, and mftnflg&
your own affairs.' Yes, yes, so far so good — they can manage their
own domestic matters, but who is to manage their foreign affairs, m
I said wunst to a member of parliament. They have outgrown
colonial dependence ; their minority is ended ; their clerkship I*
out; they are of age now; they never did well in your house ^
they were put out to nurse at a distance ; they had their schooling ^
they learnt figures early ; they can add and multiply faster tbttrf
you can, to save your soul ; and now they are uneasy, Th^y bav»

at8cen4§d
' quartir-
the itote

int tbeyf
l)y mnknn
Iject, th#
e a going
t of your
lat fi it?
to ftDiwer

beftd is ft
place the
ng turkey
'her own,
ig-legged,
\ that ha»
as a Bus*
shooltins
the derli

t do you

lister, l)i»

doing it
ciireetlon.
the incli*
)other of
thej-e i»
nmnage
lage their
atfairs, m
jutgrowft
rkship ii'
r house J,
jhooling J,
8ter tbttrf
li^y bav»

THE BXTNDLB OV STICKS.

253

your iiftme, for they are your children, but they are younger sons.
The estate and all the honors go to the eldest, who resides at home.
They know but little about their parents, farther than that their
bills have been liberally paid, but they have no personal acquain-
tance with you. You are tired of maintaining them, and they have
too much pride and too much energy to continue to be a burden to
you. They can and they will do for themselves.

" Have you ever thought of setting them up in business on their
own account, or of taking them into partnership with yourself 1 In
the course of nature they must form some connexion soon. Shall
they seek it with you or the States, or intermarry among them-
selves, and begin the world n *' 'own hook % These are impor-
ttttii questions, and they m- ' be iwered soon. K-'' you ac-
quired their confidence and affection i What has been your manner
to them ? Do you treat them like your other younger children
that remain at home ? Them you put into your army and navy,
place a sword in their hands and say, distinguish yourselves, and
the highest rewards are open to you, or you send them to the
church or the bar, and say a mitre or a coronet shall be the prize
to contend for. If you prefer diplomacy, you shall be attache to
your elder brother. 1 will place the ladder before you ; ascend it.
If you like politics, I will place you in parliament, and if you have
not talents sufficient for the House of Commons, you shall go out
fls governor of one of our colonies. Those appointments belong of
riant to them, but they canH help themselves at present. Get one
while you can.

"Have you done this, or anything like it for your children
abroad 1 If you have, perhaps you will be kind enough to furnish
ine with some names that I may mention them when I hear you
flCicused of neglect. You are very hospitable, and very considerate
to strangers. The representative of any little insignificant German
state, of the size of a Canadian township, has a place assigned him
on state occasions. Do you ever shew the same attention to the
delegate of a colony, of infinitely more extent and value than even
Ireland ! There can't be a doubt you have, though I have never
heard of it. Such little trifles are matters of course, but still as
great interests are at stake, perhaps it would be as well to notice
iuch things occasionally in the Gazette, for distant and humble
relations are always touchy.

" Ah, Doctor," said I, " things can't and won't remain long as
ihey are. England has three things among which to choose, for her
North American colonies : — First : Incorporation with herself, and
representation in Parliament. Secondly : Independence. Thirdly :
Annexation with the States. Instead of deliberating and selecting
what will be most conducive to the interest of herself and her
dependencies^ she is allowing things to take their chance. Now,

254

TBB BUNDLE OF STICKS.

t- 1''

this is all very well in matters over which we havo no control, he*
cause, Providence directs things better than we can ; but if one of
these three alternatives is infinitely better than the other, and it is
in our power to adopt it, it is the height of folly not to do so. I know
it is said, for I have often heard it myself, why we can but lose the
colonies at last. Pardon me, you can do more than that, for you
can lose their affections also. If the partnership is to be dissolved,
it had better be done by mutual consent, and it would be for the
interest of both that you should part friends. You didn't shalce
hands with, but fists at us, when we separated. We had a stand«
up fight, and you got licked, and wounds were given, that the best
part of a century hasn't healed, and wounds that will leave tender
spots for ever, so don't talk nonsense.

" Now, Doctor, mark my words. I say again, things won't
remain long as they are. I am glad I have you to talk to instead
of the Squire, for he always sais, I am chockfull of crotchets, and
brim full of brag. Now, it is easy, we all know, to prophecy a
thing after it has happened, but if I foretell a thing and it comes
out true, if I haven't a right to brag of my skill, I nave a right to
boast that I guessed right at all events. Now, when I set on foot
a scheme for carrying the Atlantic mail in steamers, and calculated
all the distances and chances, and shewed them Bristol folks, (fur
I went to that place on purpose,) that it waa shorter by thirty-six
miles to come to Halifax, and then go to New York, than to go to
New York direct, they just laughed at me, and so did the English
Government. They said it couldn't be shorter in the nature of
things. There was a captain in the navy to London too, who said,
* Mr. Slick, you are wrong, and I think I ought to know something
about it,' giving a toss of his head. * Well,' sais I, with another
toss of mine, ' 1 think you ought too, and I am sorry you don't,
that's all.'

"Then th^ Squire, said: — 'Why how you talk, Mr. Slick!
Recollect, if you please, that Doctor Lardner says that steam won't
do to cross the Atlantic, and he is a great gun.'

" * Well,' sais I, ' I don't care a fig for what Lardner says, or any
other locomotive lecturer under the light of the living sun. If a
steamer can go agin a stream, and a plaguy strong one too, two
thousand five hundred miles up the Mississippi, why in natur, can't
it be fixed so as go across the Atlantic'

" Well, some time after that, my second Clockmaker came out
in London, and sais I, I'll stand or fall by my opinion, right or
wrong, and I just put it body and breeches all down in figures in
that book. Well, that set inquiries on foot, folks began to
calculate — a tender was made and accepted, and now steam across
the Atlantic is a fixed fact, and an old story. Our folks wam't
of'ir pleaiBia'abotnt it; thejr ti6h«iitied'I 8ht:(u1dhAv4libldthtim finite

of
ar(

THS &UKDLB OV BTI0K8.

265

itrol, be*
f one of
and it is
I know-
lose the
for you
issolved,
3 for tiie
't shake
a stando
the best
e tender

gs won't
> instead
lets, and
)phecy a
it comes
right to
; on foot
ilculated
Iks, (for
[lirty-six
to go to
English
iture of
ho said,
mething
another
u don't,

Slick !
m won't

, or any
1. If a
00, two
ir, can't

ime out
ight or
fures in
gan to
I across
wam't

80 they might have taken the lead in it, as they like to go ahead
of the British in all things, and I wish to goodness I had, for thanks
are better nor jeers at any time.

" Well, I was right there, you see. So on this subject, I have
told Squire, and them who ought to know something of the colonies
they rule, over and over again, and warned government that some-
thing was wanting to place these provinces on a proper permanent
footing ; that I knew the temper of colony folks better than they ,
did, and you will find in my Journals the subject often mentioned.
But no, a debate on a beer bill, or a metropolitan bridge, or a
constabulary act, is so pressing, there is no time. Well, sure
enough, that's all come true. First, the Canadian league started
up, it was a feverish symptom, and it subsided by good treatment,
without letting blood. Last winter it was debated in the Legisla-
ture here, and the best and ablest speeches made on it, ever heard
in British America, and infinitely superior to the great majority of
those uttered in the House of Commons.* Do you suppose for a
moment that proud-spirited, independent, able men like those
members, will long endure the control of a Colonial minister, who,
they feel, is as much below them in talent, as by accident he may
be above them in rank ? No, Sir, the day is past. The form of
provincial government is changed, and with it provincial dependence
also. When we become men^ we must put away childish things.

" There is a sense of soreness that is uncomfortably felt by a
colonist now when he surveys our condition, and that of English-
men, and compares his own with it. He can hardly tell you what
he wants, he has yet no definite plan ; but he desires something
that will place him on a perfect equality with either. When I was
in Europe lately, I spent a day at Richmond, with one of them I
had known out in America. He was a "tory, too, and a pretty
staunch one, I tell you.

" Thinks I to myself, * I'll put you through your paces a little,
my young sucking Washington, for fear you will get out of practice
when you get back.* '

" So, sais I, ' how do you get on now % I suppose responsible
government has put an end to all complaints, hain't it V

" Sais he, * Mr. Slick,' and I saw he felt sore, for he looked like
it, and talked like it ; ' Mr. Slick,' said he, kinder niblin at the
question, *• I have no .remonstrance to make. There is something
very repulsive in a complaint. I can't bear the sound of it my-
self. It should never be pronounced, but in the ear of a doctor or
a police magistrate. Your man with a grievance is everywhere

* All these speeches are well worth reading, especially thdse of Mr. Howe,
Mr. Johnston, and Mr. M. Wilkins. That of the former gentleman is incompa-
rably superior to any one delivered during, the laat MBflion of the Impeiial
Farltam'ent

256

THB BUNDLE OF iTiOKB.

■ ^i

voted a bore. If he goes to the Colonial office with one, that
stout gentlemen at the door, the porter, who has the keys of that
realm of knowledge and bliss, and knows as much, and has as many
airs as h'H master, soon receives an order not to admit him.

" * \ . om out with fatigue and disappointment, the unfortunate
suitor finds at last his original grievance merged in the greater one,
that he can obtain no hearing and no redress, and he returns to his
own province, like Franklin, or the Australian delegate, with
thoughts of deep revenge, and visions of a glorious revolution that
shall set his countrymen free from foreign dominion. He goes an
humble suppliant, he returns an implacable rebel. The restless
Pole, who would rather play the part of a freebooting officer, than
an honest farmer, and who prefers even begging to labor, wanders
over Europe and America, uttering execrations against all mon-
archs in general, and his own in particular, and when you shake
your head at his ofl-told tale of fictitious patriotism, as he replaces
his stereotyped memorial in his pocket, exhibits the handle of a
stiletto, with a savage smile of unmistakeable scoundrelism.'

" ' Foles loom large,' sais I, ' in the fogs of London, but they
dwindle into poor sticks with us.'

*' He was in no temper, however, to laugh. It was evident he
felt deeply, but he was unwilling to exhibit the tender spot. * The
world, Sir,' he said, ' is full of grievances. Papineau's parliament
mustered ninety-two of them at one time, and a Falmouth packet-
ship actually foundered with its shifting cargo. What a pity it is
that their worthlessness, and lightness, alone caused them to float.
The English, who reverse every wholesome maxim, in this instance
pursued their usual course. The sage advice parcere suljjectis^ et
dehelare superbos, was disregarded. The loyalists suffered, the arro-
gant and turbulent triumphed. Every house, Sir, in the kingdom
is infested with grievances. Fathers grieve over the extravagances
of their sons, the giddiness of their daughters, and the ceaseless
murmurs of their wives, while they in their turn unite in complain-
ing of parental parsimony and meanness. Social intercourse I have
long since given up, for I am tired of tedious narratives of the de-
linquencies of servants and the degeneracy of the times. I prefer
large parties, where, although you know the smile hides the peevish
temper, the aching heart, the jealous fear, and the wounded pride ;
yet it is such a great satisfaction to know there is a truce to com-
plaints, that I prefer its many falsehood:^ to unceasing wailings over
the sad realities of life.'

" This was no answer, but /something to bluff me off. I saw he
was unwilling to speak out, and that it was a mere effort to button
up and evade the subject. So to draw him out, I said,

" * Well, there is one thing you can boast, Canada is the most'
valuable and beautiful appendage of the British Crown.' ;^

sne, that
s of that
i as many
n.

fortunate
iftter one,
rns to his
Ette, with
ition that
e goes an
9 restless
icer, than
, wanders

all mon-
ou shake
9 replaces
indle of a
m.'

but they

evident he
ot. * The
>arliament
th pacicet-
pity it is
n to float,
instance
^jectis, et
the arro-
kingdom
Etvagances
ceaseless
complain-
rae 1 have
of the de-
I prefer
le peevish
ed pride;
e to com-
ings over

I saw he
to button

the most*

THE BUNDLB OF BTI0K8.

257

" ' England may boast of it as such,' he said, * but I have no right
to do so. I prefer being one of the pariahs of the empire, a mere
colonist, having neither grade nor caste, without a country of my
own, and without nationality. I am an humble man, and when I
am asked where I come from, readily answer the Chaudiere River.
Where is that 1 Out of the world ? JExtra flamantia limina mundi.
"What is the name of your country ? It is not a country, it is only
a place. It is better to have no flag than a borrowed one. If I
had one I should have to defend it. If it were wrested from me I
should be disgraced, while ray victorious enemy would be thanked
by the Imperial legislature, and rewarded by his sovereign. If I
were triumphant, the affair would be deemed too small to merit a
notice in the Gazette. He who called out the militia and quelled
amid a shower of balls, the late rebellion, was knighted. He who
assented amid a shower of eggs to a bill to indemnify the rebels,
was created an earl. Now to pelt a governor general with eggs, is
an overt act of treason, for it is an attempt to throw off" the yoke.
If, therefore, he was advanced in the peerage for remunerating
traitors for their losses, he ought now to asaent to another act for
reimbursing the expenses of the exhausted stores of the poultry
yards, and be made a marquis, unless the British see a difference
between a rebel mob, and an indignant crowd, between those whose
life has been spent in hatching mischief, and those who desired to
scarce the foul birds from their nests.

" * If that man had been a colonist, the dispatch marked * private*
would have said, ' It sarved you right,' whereas it announced to
him, ' you are one of us,' and to mark our approbation of your
conduct, you may add one of these savory missiles to your coat of
arras, that others may be egged on to do their duty. Indeed we
couldn't well have a flag of our own. The Americans have a very
appropriate and elegant one, containing stripes emlbematical of
their slaves, and stars to represent their free states, while a Con-
necticut goose typifies the good cheer of thanksgiving day. It is
true we have the honor of fighting under that of England ; but
there is, as we have seen, this hard condition annexed to it, we must
consent to be taxed, to reimburse the losses of those whom by our
gallantry we subdue. If we take Sebastopol, we must pay for the
damage we have done. We are not entitled to a separate flag,
and I am afraid if we had one we should be subject to ridicule. A
pure white ground would prefigure our snow drifts ; a gull with
outspread wings, our credulous qualities; and a few discolored
eggs, portray our celebrated missiles. But what sort of a flag
would that be 1 No, Sir, these provinces should be united, and
they would from their territorial extent, their commercial enter-
prise, their mineral wealth, their wonderful agricultural productions,
and above all, ther intelligent, industrious, and still loyal popula-

258

THB BUNDLB OF STICKS.

•I:
i

tion, in time form a nation second to none on earth ; until tnen I
prefer to be a citizen of the world.

" ' I once asked an Indian where he lived. I meant of course where
his camp was, but the question was too broad and puzzled him.
Stretching out his arm and describing a circle with his heel, he
said, * I live in all these woods !' Like him, I live in all this world.
Those who, like the English and Americans, have appropriated so
large a portion of it to themselves, may severally boast, if they
think proper, of their respective governments and territories. My
boast, Sir, is a peculiar one, that I have nothing to boast of.'

" ' If such are your views,' I said, ' I must say I do not under-
stand that absurd act of firing your parliament house. It is, I
assure you, reprobated everywhere. Our folks say your par<^^y
commenced as old Hunkers* and ended as Barnhurners.^

" That remark threw him off his guard ; he rose up greatly
agitated ; his eyes flashed fire, and he extended out his arm as if
he intended by gesticulation to give full force to what he was about
to say. He stood in this attitude for a moment without uttering
a word, when by a sudden effort, he mastered himself, and took up
his hat to walk out on the terrace and recover his composure.

" As he reached the door, he turned, and said :

" * The assenting to that infamous indemnity act, Mr. Slick, and the
still more disreputable manner in which it received the guberna-
torial sanction, has produced an impression in Canada that no loyal
man — ' but he again checked himself and left the sentence unfinished.

" I was sorry I had pushed him so hard, but the way he tried to
evade the subject at first, the bitterness of his tone, and the excite-
ment into which the allusion threw him, convinced me that the
English neither know who their real friends in Canada are, nor how
to retain their affections.

" When he returned, I said to him, ' I was only jesting about
your having no grievances in Canada, and I regret having agitated
you. I agree with you, however, that it is of no use to remonstrate

* " "We have been requested to give a definition of this term * old Hunkers.'
Party nicknames are not often logically justified ; and wre can only say that
that section of the late dominant party in this State (the democratic) which
claims to be the more radical, progressive, reformatory, &c., bestowed the ap-
pellation of ' Old Hunker' on the other section, to indicate that it was distin-
guished by opposite qualities from those claimed for itself We believe the title
was also intended to indicate that those on whom it was conferred had an appe-
tite for a large ' hunk' of the spoils, though we never could discover that they
were peculiar in that. On the other hand, the opposite school was termed
' Barnburners,' in allusion to the story of an old Dutchman, who relieved him-
self of rats by burning his barns, which they infested — just like exterminating
all banks and corporations to root out the abuses connected therewith. The
fitness or unfitness of these family terms of endearment is none of our business."
•^Nbw Yobk Tbibuni.

THB BUITDLB OV BTIOKB.

til tnen I

rse where
zlcd him.
» heel, he
his world.
)rlated so
t, if they
:ies. My
of.'

lOt under-

It is, I

our par^^^y

p greatly
ana as if
was about
t uttering
id took up
sure.

ck, and the
1 guberna-
it no loyal
infinished.
le tried to
the excite-
3 that the
3, nor how

ing about
g agitated
imonstrate

d Hunkers.'

nly say that

ratic) which

iwed the ap-

was distin-

ieve the title

lad an appe-

er that they

was termecl

■elieved him-

ctenninating

ewith. The

ir business/'

with the English public. They won't listen to you. If you want
to be heard, attract their attention, in the first instance, by talking
of their own immediate concerns, and while they are regarding you
with intense interest and anxiety, by a sleight of hand shift the dis-
solving view, and substitute a sketch of your own. For instance,
says you, ' How is it the army in the Crimea had no tents in the
autumn, and no huts in the winter — the hospitals no fittings, and
the doctors no nurses or medicines 1 How is it disease and neglect
have killed more men than the enemy ? Why is England the
laughing-stock of Russia, and the butt of French and Yankee ridi-
cule ? and how does it happen this country is filled with grief and
humiliation from one end of it to the other] I will tell you.
These affairs were managed by a branch of the Colonial OJice.
llie minister for that department said to the army, as he did to the
distant provinces, 'Manage your own affairs, and don't bo her us.'
Then pause and say, slowly and emphatically, * Vou now have a
taste of what we have endured in the colonies. The same incomye'
tency has ruled over both.^

" ' Good heavens,' said he, * Mr. Slick, I wish you was one of us.'

"'Thank you for the compliment,' sais J. 'I feel flattered, I
assure you ; but, excuse me, I have no such ambition. I am con-
tent to be a humble Yankee clockmaker. A Colonial Office it
which there is not a single man that ever saw a colony^ is not exactlj
the government to suit me. The moment I found my muster knew
less than I did^ I quit his school, and set up for myself.^

" Yes, my friend, the English want to have the mirror held up to
them ; but that is your business and not mine. It would be out of
place for me. I am a Yankee, and politics are not my line ; I havt*
no turn for them, and I don't think I have the requisite knowledge
of the subject for discussing it ; but you have both, and I wonder
you don't.

" Now, Doctor, you may judge from that conversation, and the
deep feeling it exhibits, that men's thoughts are wand^'^ing in new
channels. The great thing for a statesman is to direcv ih^m to the
right one. I have said there were three courses to be considered ;
first, incorporation with England ; secondly, independence ; thirdly,
annexation. The subject is to© large for a quarter-deck walk, so I
will only say a few words more. Let's begin w" th annexation first.
The thinking, reflecting people among us, don't want these pro-
vinces. We guess we are big enough already, and nothing but our
great rivers, canals, railroads, and telegraphs (which like skewers
in a round of beef, fasten the un wieldly mass together,) could
possibly keep us united. Without them we should fall to pieces,
in no time. It's as much as they can do to keep all tight and snug
now ; but them skewers nor no others can tie a greater bulk than
we have. W«ll, I don't think colonists want to be swamped in our

260

TUB BUNDLB OF BTI0E8.

vast republic either. So their ain't no great danger from that,
unless the devil gits into us both, which, if a favorable chance
offered, he is not onlikely to do. So let that pass. Secondly, as to
incorporation. That is a grand idea, but it is almost too grand for
John Bull's head, and a little grain too large for his pride. There
are difficulties, and serious ones, in the way. It would require par-
ticipation in the legislature, which would involve knocking off some
of the Irish brigade to make room for your members ; and there
would be a hurrush at that, as O'Connell used to say, that would
bang Banaghar. It would al^o involve an invasion of the upper
house, for colonists won't take half a loaf now, I tell you ; which
would make some o' those gouty old lords fly round and scream
like Mother Gary's chickens in a gale of wind ; and then there
would be the story of the national debt, and a participation in im-
perial taxes to adjust, and so on, but none of these difficulties are
insuperable.

" A statesman with a clever head, a sound judgment, and a good
heart, could adjust a scheme that would satisfy all ; at least it would
satisfy colonists by its justice, and reconcile the peers and the
people of England, by its expediency, for the day Great Britain
parts with these colonies, depend upon it, she descends in the scale
of nations most rapidly. India she may lose any day, for it is a
government of opinion only. Australia will emancipate itself, ere
long, but these provinces she may and ought to retain.

" Thirdly, independence. This is better for her than annexation
by a long chalk, and better for the colonies too, if I was allowed to
spend my opinion on it ; but if that is decided upon, something
must be done soon. The way ought to be prepared for it by an
immediate federative and legislative union of them all. It is of no
use to consult their governors, they don't and they can't know any-
thing of the country but its roads, lakes, rivers, and towns ; but of
the people they know nothing whatever. You might as well ask
the steeple of a wooden church whether the sill that rests on the
stone foundation is sound. They are too big, according to their
own absurd notions, too small in the eyes of colonists, and too far
removed and unbending to know anything about it. "What can a
man learn in five years, except the painful fact that he knew nothing
when he came, and knows as little when he leaves. He can form
a better estimate of himself than when he landed, and returns an
h .imbler, but not a wiser man ; but that's all his schoolin ends in.
No, Sir-ee, it's only men like you and me who know the ins and
outs of the people here."

" Don't say me," said the Doctor, "for p^oodness sake, for I know
nothing about the inhabitants of these -yoods and waters, but the
birds, the fish, and the beasts."

"Don't you include politicians," said I, "of all shades and

rom that,
le chance
idly, as to
grand for
e. There
quire par-
g off some
and there
hat would
the upper
)u; which
id scream
!,hen there
tion in im-
mlties are

tnd a good
3t it would
's and the
at Britain
a. the scale
for it is a
5 itself, ere

mnexation
allowed to
something
it by an
■It is of no
know any.
IS ; but of
well ask
ts on the
to their
i too far
That can a
|w nothing
can form
iturns an
ends in.
ins and

)r I know
but the

THB BUKDLB OF ITIOKB.

261

colon, under the last genus *{ because I do, there are regular beasts
of prey."

Well, he laughed, he said he didn't know nothing about them.

" Well," sais I, " I ain't so modest, I can tell you, for I do know.
I am a clockmaker, and understand machinery. I know all about
the wheels, pulleys, pendulum, balances, and so on, the length of
the chain, and what is best of all, the way to wind 'em up, set 'em
a going, and make 'em keep time. Now, Doctor, I'll tell you what
neither the English, nor the Yankees, nor the colonists themselves,
know anything of, and that is about the extent and importance of
these North American provinces under British rule. Take your
pencil now, and write down a few facts [ will give you, and when
you are alone meditating, just chew on 'em.

" First — there are four millions of square miles of territory in
them, whereas all Europe Y^u but three millions some odd hundred
thousands, and our almighty, everlastin' United States still less than
tliat again. Canada alone is equal in size to Great Britain, France
and Prussia, '^he maritime provinces themselves cover a space as
large as Holland, Belgium, Greece, Portugal and Switzerland, all
put together. The imports for 1853, were between ten and eleven
millions, and the exports, (ships sold included) between nine and
ten millions. At the commencement of the American revolution,
when we flrst dared the English to flght us, wo had but two and a
half, these provinces now contain nearly three, and in a half a cen>
tury will reach the enormous amount of eighteen millions of inha-
bitants. The increase of population in the States is thirty-three
per cent., in Canada sixty-eight. The united revenue is nearly a
million and a half, and their flipping amounts to four hundred and
fiiiy thousand tons.

" Now, take these facta and see what an empire is here, surely
the best in climate, soil, mineral, and other productions in the
world, and peopled by such a race, as no other country unc ir
heaven can produce. No, Sir, here are the bundle of sticks, all they
want is to ne well united. How absurd it seems to us Yankees,
that England is both so ignorant and so blind to her own interests,
as not to give her attention to this interesting portion of the empire,
that in natural and commercial wealth is of infinitely more import-
ance than half a dozen Wallachias and Moldavias, and in loyalty,
intelligence, and enterprise, as far superior to turbulent Ireland as
it is possible for one country to surpass another. However, Doc-
tor, it's no afiair of mine. I hate politics, and I hate talking figures.
Sposin we try a cigap, and some white tatin.^^

lades and

town AKD COUNTBT

CHAPTER XX.

TOWN AND COUNTRY.

" Doctor," sais I, as we ascended the deck the following mom
ing, " I can't tell you how I have enjoyed these incidental runs on
shore I have had during my cruise in the ' Black Hawk.' 1 am
amazin fond of the country, and bein' an early riser, I manage to
lose none of its charms. I like to see the early streak in the east,
and look on the glorious sky when the sun rises. I like every
thing about the country, and the people that live in it. The town
is artificial, the country is natural. "Whoever sees the peep of the
morning in a city but a drowsy watchman, who waits for it to go
to his bed ? a nurse, that is counting the heavy hours, and longs to
put out the unsnufifed candles, and take a cup of strong tea to keep
her peepers open ; or some houseless wretch, that has woke up
from his nap on a door-step, by a punch in the ribs from the staff
of a policeman, who begrudges the misfortunate critter a luxury he
is deprived of himself, and asks him what he is a doin' of there, as
if he didn't know he had nothin' to do no where, and tells him to
mizzle off home, as if he took pleasure in reminding him he had
none. Duty petrifies these critters' hearts, harder than the grand
marble porch stone that served for a couch, or the door-step that
was used for a pillow. Even the dogs turn in then, for they don't
think it's necessary to mount guard any longer. Blinds and cur-
tains are all down, and every livin' critter is asleep, breathing the
nasty, hot, confined, unwholesome air of their bed-rooms, instead
of inhaling the cool dewy breeze of Heaven.

" Is it any wonder that the galls are thin, and pale, and delicate,
and are so languid, they look as if they were givin themselves airs,
when all they want is air 1 or that the men complain of dyspepsy,
and look hollow and unhealthy, having neither cheeks, stomach,
nor thighs, and have to take bitters, to get an appetite for their
food, and pickles and red pepper to digest it 1 The sun is up, and
has performed the first sta'^e of his journey before the maid turns
out, opens the front door, and takes a look up and down street, to
see who is stirrin. Early risin must be cheerfulsome, for she is
very chipper, and throws some orange-peel at the shopman of their
next neighbor, as a hint if he was to chase her, he would catch her
behind the hall-door, as he did yesterday, after which she would
show him into the supper-room, where the liquors and cakes are
still standing as they were left last night.

" Yes, she is right to hide, for it is decent, if it ain't modest, seein
th« way she has jumped into her clothes, and the danger thsre is of

TOWN AND OOUNTKT*

263

)wing mom
ital runs on
iwk.' ] am
[ manage to
: in the east,
I like every
The town
peep of the
for it to go
and longs to
tea to keep
as woke up
om the staff
a luxury he
of there, as
tells him to
him he had
kn the grand
)or-step that
r they don't
ds and cur-
-eathing the
ms, instead

ind delicate,
(iselves airs,
f dyspepsy,
:s, stomach,
ite for their
a is up, and
maid turns
n street, to
for she is
nan of their
Id catch her
h she would
d cakes are

kodest, seein
r there ia of

jumping out of them again. How can It be otberwIfD, when ehe
has to get up so horrid early. It's all the fmU of the vile milk-
man, who will come for fear his milk will get muv j flnd that beast,
the iceman, who won't wait, for fear his ice will melt ', and that
stupid nigger who will brush the shoes then, be bfls no many to
clean elsewhere.

" As she stands there, a woman ascend* the step, and produces
a basket from under her cloak, into which she look* carefully,
examines its contents, (some lace frills, tippeti, and 6ollftrs of her
mistress, which she wore a few nights ago at a ball,) and returns
with something heavy in it, for the arm i» extended in carrying it,
and the stranger disappears. She etill lingers, uh§ ii expecting
some one. It is the postman, he gives her three or four letters,
one of which is for herself. She reads it approvingly, and then
carefully puts it into her bosom, but that won't retain it no how
she can iix it, so she shifts it to her pocket. Jt ii inaniAiMt Posty
carries a verbal answer, for she talks very earnestly to him, and
shakes hands with him at parting most cordially,

" It must be her turn for a ball to-night I reekon, for fl carriage
drives very rapidly to within three or four hundred yards of the
house, and then crawls to tbe door so as not to disturb the family.
A very fashionably dressed maid is there ; (her mistress must be
very kind to lend her such expensive head-gear, Sjplendid jewelry
and costly and elegant toggery,) and her beau is there witli such a
handsome moustache and becoming beard, and an exquisitely
worked chain that winds six or seven times round hlffl, and hangs
loose over his waistcoat, like a coil of golden cord. At a given
signal, from the boss of the hack, who stands door in hand, the
young lady gathers her clothes well up her drumstleks, and would
you believe, two steps or springs only, like those of a kangaroo,
take her into the house. It's a streak cf light, and nothing more.
It's lucky she is thin, for fat tames every critter tliat is foolish
enough to wear it, and spoils agility,

" The beau takes it more leisurely. Tliere are two epochs in
a critter's life of intense happiness, first when he do/fs the petti-
coats, pantellets, the hermaphrodite rig of a child, and mounts the
jacket and trowsers of a boy ; and the other Is when that gives
way to a ' long tail blue,' and a beard. He Is then a man,

" The beau has reached this enviable age, and as he is full of
admiration of himself, is generous enough to allow time to others
to feast their eyes on him. So he takes it leisurely, his 4iharact'?r,
like that charming girl's, won't suffer if it is known they return with
the cats in the morning ; on the contrary, women, AS they always
do, the little fools, will think more of him. They make no allow-
ance for one of their own sex, but they are verv indulgent, indeed
they are both blind and deaf to the errors of tn« Othnr. The fact

I-

264

TOWN AND OOUNTBT.

is, if I didn't know it was only vindicating the honor of their sex, I
vow I should think it was all envy of the gall who was so lucky, as
to be unlucky ; but I know better than that. If the owner of the
house should be foolish enough to be up so early, or entirely take
leave of his senses, and ask him why he was mousing about there,
he flatters himself he is just the child to kick him. Indeed he feels
inclined to flap his wings and crow. He is very proud. Celestina
is in kve with him, and tells him, (but he knew that before) he is
very handsome. He is a man, he has a beard as black as the ace
of spades, is full dressed, and the world is before him. He thrashed
a watchman last night, and now he has a drop in his eye, would
flght the devil. He has succeeded in deceiving that gall, he has
no more idea of marrying her than I have. It shows his power.
He would give a dollar to crow, but suff*ers himself to be gently
pushed out of the hall, and the door fastened behind him, amid
such endearing expressions, that they would turn a fellow's head,
even after his hair had grown gray. He then lights a cigar, gets
up with the driver, and looks round with an air of triumph, as much
as to say — " what would you give to be admired and as successful
as I am ;" and when he turns the next corner, he does actilly crow.

" Yes, yes, when the cat's away, the mice will play. Things
ain't in a mess, and that house a hurrah's nest is it 1 Time wears
on and the alternate gall must be a movin' now, for the other who
was at the ball has gone to bed, and intends to have her by-daily
headache if inquired for. To-night .it will be her turn to dance,
and to-morrow to sleep, so she cuts round considerable smart. Poor
thing, the time is not far oft', when you will go to bed and not
sleep, but it's only the child that burns its fingers that dreads the
fire. In the meantime set things to rights.

" The curtains are looped up, and the shutters folded back into
the wall, and the rooms are sprinkled with tea-leaves, which are
lightly swept up, and the dust left behind, where it ought to be, on
the carpet, that's all the use there is of a carpet, except you have
got corn. And then the Venetians are let down to darken the
rooms, and the windows are kept closed to keep out the flies, the
dust and the heat, and the flowers brought in and placed in the
stands. And there is a beautiful temperature in the parlor, for it
is the same air that was there a fortnight before. It is so hot
when the young ladies come down to breakfast they can't eat, so
they take nothing but a plate of buckwheat cakes, and another of
hot buttered rolls, a dozen of oysters, a pot of preserves, a cup of
honey, and a few ears of Indian corn. They can't abide meat, it's
too solid and heavy. It's so horrid warm it's impossible they can
have an appetite, and even that little trifle makes them feel dys-
peptic. They'll starve soon ; what can be the matter 1 A glass
of cool ginger pop with iee would be refreshing, and soda water is*

TOWN AND 6OUNTET.

265

eir sex, I
lucky, as
er of the
rely take
)ut there,
a he feels
Celestina
jre) he is
IS the ace
! thrashed
^e, would
11, he has
is power,
be gently
lira, amid
)w*s head,
3igar, gets
1, as much
successful
iilly crow.
. Things
ime wears
pther who

by-daily

to dance,

art. Poor

and not
ireads the

)ack into

which are

to be, on

you have

arken the

flies, the

ed in the

•lor, for it

is so hot

I't eat, so

nother of

a cup of

meat, it's

they can

feel dys-

A glass

El water it'

still better. It is too early for wine, and at any rate it*s heating,
besides being unscriptural,

" Well the men look at their watdies, and say they are in a
hurry, and must be off for their counting-houses like wink, so they
bolt. What a wonder it is the English common people call the
stomach a bread-basket, for it has no meanin' there. They should
have called it a meat-tray, for they are the boys for beef and mut-
ton. But with us it's the identical thing. They clear the table in
no time, it's a grand thing for it saves the servants trouble. And
a steak, and a dish of ciiops, added to what the ladies had, is grand.
The best way to make a pie is to make it in tlie stomach. But
flour fixins piping hot is the best, and as their disgestion ain't good,
it is better to try a little of every thing on the table to see which
best agrees with them. So down goes the Johnnycakes, Indian
flappers, Lucy Neals, Hoecakes — with toast, fine cookies, rice bat-
ter, Indian batter, Kentucky batter, flannel cakes, and clam fritters.
Super-superior fine flour is the wholesomest thing in the world, and
you can't have too much of it. It's grand for pastry, and that is as
light and as fiakey as snow when well made. How can it make
paste inside of you and be wholesome ? If you would believe
some Yankee doctors you'd think it would make the stomach a
regular glue pot. They pretend to tell you pap made of it will
kill a baby as dead as a herring. But doctors must have some
hidden thing to lay the blame of their ignorance on. Once when
they didn't know what was the matter of a child they said it was
water in the brain, and now when it dies — oh, they say the poor
thing was killed by that pastry flour. But they be hanged. How
can the best of any thing that is good be bad ? The only thing is
to be sure a thing is best, and then go ahead with it.

" Well, when the men get to their offices they are half roasted
alive, and have to take ices to cool them, and then for fear the cold
will heat them they have to take brandy cocktail to counteract it.
So they keep up a sort of artificial fever and ague all day. The ice
gives the one and brandy the other, like shuttlecock and battledore.
If they had walked down as they had ought to have done in the
cool of the morning, they would have avoided all this.

" How different it is now in the country, ain't it ? What a glo-
rious thing the sunrise is ? How beautiful the dew-spangled bushes
and the pearly drops they shed are 1 How sweet and cool is the
morning air, and how refreshing and bracing the light breeze is to
the nerves that have been relaxed in warm repose. The new
plowed earth, the snowy -headed clover, the wild flowers, the bloom-
ing trees, and the balsamic spruce, ail exhale their fragrance to in-
vite you forth, while the birds offer up their morning hymn as if to
proclaim that all things praise the Lord. The lowing herd remind
you that they have kept their appointed time, and the freshening
13

i-i<

265

TOWN AK"D COPSTRTr

breezes as they swell in the forest^ and avr aken the sleepln|f lesvv*
seem to whisper, ' we too come with healing on our wings/ and
the babbling brook, that it also has its mission to minister to your
wants. Oh, morning in the country is a glorious thing, and ifc If
impossible when one rises and walks forth and surveys the seen©
not to exclaim, ' God is good.'

" Oh, that early boor has health, vigor, and cheerfulness in itr
How natural it seems to me, how familiar I am with every thing
it indicates. The dew tells me there will be no showers, the whit@
frost warns me of its approach^ and if that does not arrive in tima,
the sun instructs me to notice and remember, that if it rises bright
and clear, and soon disappears in a eloud, I must prepare for heavy
rain. The birds and the animals, all, all say, " we, too, are eared
for, and we have our fore-knowledge, which we disclose by our con-
duct to you." The brooks, too, have meaning in their voices, mA
the southern sentinel proclaims aloud, ' prepare.* And the western^
*all is well.'

" Oh, how well I know the face of nature. What pleasnrs I
take as I commence my journey at this hour, to witness the rising
of the mist in the autumn from the low grounds, and its pausing
on the hill tops, as if regretting the scene it was about to leav^*
And how I admire the little insect webs, that are spangled over
the field at that time; and the partridge warming itself in the firnt
gleam of sunshine it can discover on the road. The alder, M I
descend into the glen, gives me notice that the first frost has visitid
him, as it always does, before others, to warn him that it has arrU
ved, to claim every leaf of the forest as its own. Oh, the country
is the place for peace, health, beauty, and innocence. I love it, I
was born in it I lived the greater part of my life there, and I
look forward to die in it.

" How different from town life, is that of the country. Th<»r9
are duties to be performed in-door and out-door, and the inmat^ff
assemble round their breakfast-table, refreshed by sleep, and invi-
gorated by the cool air, partake of their simple, plain, and stibstAn-
tial meal, with the relish of health, cheerfulness and appetite. Tb9
open window admits the fresh breeze, in happy ignorance of dust,
noise, or fashionable darkness. The verandah defies rain, or noon*
day sun, and employment affords no room for complaint that tb©
day is hot, the weather oppressive, the nerves weak, or the diges-
tion enfeebled. There can be no happiness where there is an alter-
nation of listlessness and excitement. They are the two extremen
between which it resides, and that locality to my mind is the coun-
try. Care, disease, sorrow, and disappointment are common to
both. They are the lot of humanity ; but the children of mammon
and of God bear them differently.

*' I didn't intend to turn preacher, Doct<»r, but I do poiitiv^I^r,

TOWN AND COUNTRY.

267

n^s,' and
V to your
and it i»
the somei

ess in lU
ery tiling
tlie whit0
e in time,
ses bright
for heavy
are eared
f our con-
oices, and
e western,

pleasors I
the rising
ts pausing

to Ieay@»
igled over
n the first
alder, M I
ms visitid
t has aM-
le country

love it, I
lere, and I

extremes
I the coun*
>mmon to

mamnioii

lielieve, if I hadn't been a clockmaker, dear old Minister would
have made me one. I don't allot, though, I would have taken in
Slickville, for I actilly think I couldn't help waltzing with the grtlb,
•which would have put our folks into fits, or kept old Clay, clergy-
man like, to leave sinners behind me. I can't make out these puri-
tan fellows, or evangelical boys at all. To my mind, religion is a
cheerful thing, intended to make us happy, not miserable ; and
that our faces, like that of nature, should be smiling, and that like
birds, we should sing and carol, and like lilies, we should be well
Arrayed, and not that our countenances should make folks believe
Vte were chosen vessels, containing, not the milk of human kind-
fiess, but horrid sour vinegar and acid mothery grounds. Why,
the very swamp behind our house is full of a plant called ' a gall's
§ide«saddle.'*

" Plague take them old independents ; I can't, and never could
understand them. I believe if Bishop Laud had allowed them to
ulng through their noses, pray without gowns, and build chapels
without steeples, they would have died out like quakers, by being
let alone. They wanted to make the state believe they were of
consequence. If the state had treated them as if they were of no
importance, they would have felt that, too, very soon. Oppo-
sition made them obstinate. They won't stick at nothing to carry
their own ends.

" They made a law once in Connecticut that no man should ride
et drive on a Sunday except to a conventicle. Well, an old Dutch
governor of New York, when that was called New Amsterdam
and belonged to Holland, once rode into the colony on horseback
©n a Sabbath day ; pretty hard job it was too, for he was a very
Stout man, and a poor horseman. There were no wheel carriages
in those days, and he had been used to home to travel in canal
l^oats, and smoke at his ease ; but he had to make the journey, and
he did it, and he arrived just as the puritans were coming out of
meeting, and going heme, slowly, stately, and solemnly, to their
cold dinner, cooked the day before, (for they didn't think it no
harm to make servants work double tides on Saturday) their
rule being to do anything of a week day, but nothing on the
Sabbath.

" Well, it was an awful scandal this, and a dreadful violation of
the blue laws of the young nation. Connecticut and New Amster-
dam (New York) were nothing then but colonies; but the Puritans
©wed no obedience to princes, and set up for themselves. The
elders and ministry and learned men met on Monday, to consider
of this dreadful profanity of the Dutch governor. On the one
hajtid it was argued, if he entered their state (for so they called it

posltivtlf.

* Thia is ih» coouaou oam« for tb* Swracaaia.

268

TOWN AND OOUNTBT.

then) he was amenable to their laws, and ought to be cited, con>
demned, and put into the stocks, as an example to evil doers.
On the other hand, they got hold of a Dutch book on the Law of
Nations, to cite agin him ; but it was written in Latin, and
although it contained all about it, they couldn't find the place, for
their minister said there was no index to it. Well, it was said, if
we are independent, so is he, and whoever heard' of a king or a
prince being put in the stocks. It bothered them, so they sent
their Yankee governor to him, to bully and threaten him, and see
how he would take it, as we now do, at the present day to Spain,
about Cuba, and England, about your fisheries.

" Well, the governor made a long speech to him, read him a
chapter in the Bible, and then expounded it, and told him they
must put him in the stocks. All this time the Dutchman went on
smoking, and blowing out great long puffs of tobacco. At last ne
paused, and said :

" ' You be tamned. Stockum me — stockum teivel,' and he laid
down his pipe, and with one hand took hold of their governor by
the foretop, and with the other drew a line across his forehead and
said, * den I declare war, and Gooten Himmel ! I shall scalp you
all.'

" After delivering himself of that long speech, he poured out two
glasses of Schiedam, drunk one himself, and offered the Yankee
governor the other, who objected to the word Schiedam, as it ter-
minated in a profane oath, with which, he said, the Dutch language
was greatly defiled ; but seeing it was also called Geneva, he would
swallow it. Well, his high mightiness didn't understand him, but
he opened his eyes like an owl, and stared, and said, ' dat is tarn
coot,' and the conference broke up.

" Well, it was the first visit of the Dutch governor, and they
hoped it would be the last, so they passed it over. B"*-. his busi-
ness was important, and it occupied him the whole ween to settle
it, and he took his leave on Saturday evening, and was to set out
for home on Sunday again. Well, this was considered as adding
insult to injury. What was to be done ? Now it's very easy and
very proper for us to sit down and condemn the Duke of Tuscany,
who encourages pilgrims to go to shrines where marble statues
weep blood, and cataliptic galls let flies walk over their eyes with-
out winking, and yet imprisons an English lady for giving away
the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' It's very wrong, no doubt, but it aint
very new after all. Ignorant and bigoted people always have per-
secuted, and always will, to the end of the chapter. But what was
to be done with his high mightiness, the Dutch governor. Well,
they decided that it was not lawful to put him into the stocks ; but
that it was lawful to deprive him of the means of sinning. So one
of the elders swapped horses with him, and, when he started on the

TOWN AKD COUNTRY.

269

:in,
ace.

ed, con-
l doers.
Law of
and
for
said, if
ng or a
ley sent
and see
> Spain,

d him a
im they
went on
b last lie

he laid
jrnor by
ead and
;alp you

out two
Yankee
s it ter-
anguage
le would
lim, but
is tarn.

,nd they
lis busi-
o settle
set out
adding
jasy and
uscany,
statues
es with-
ig away
it aint
ave per-
trhat was
Well,
}ks ; but
So one
i on the

sabbath, the critter was so lame after he went a mile, he had to re*
turn and wait till Monday.

" No, I don't understand these Puritan folks ; and I suppose if I
had been a preacher, they wouldn't have understood me. But I
must get back to where 1 left off. I was a talkin' about the differ-
ence of life in town and in the country, and how in the world I got
away, off from the subject, to the Dutch governor and them Puri-
tans, I don't know. When I say I love the country, I mean it in
its fullest extent, not merely old settlements and rural districts,
but the great unbroken forest. This is a taste, I believe, a man
must have in early life. I don't think it can be acquired in middle
age, any more than playin' marbles can, though old Elgin tried that
game and made money at it. A man must know how to take care
of himself, and cook for himself. It's no place for an epicure, be-
cause he can't carry his cook, and his spices, and sauces, and all
that, with him. Still a man ought to know a goose from a grid-
iron ; and if he wants to enjoy the sports of the flood and the for-
est, he should be able to help himself; and what he does he ought
to do well. Fingers were made afore knives and forks ; flat stones
before bake-pans ; crotched sticks before jacks ; barks before tin ;
and chips before plates ; and it's worth knowing how to use them
or form them.

It takes two or three years to build and finish a good house. A
wigwam is knocked up in an hour ; and as you have to be your
own architect, carpenter, mason, and laborer, it's just as well to be
handy as not. A critter that can't do that, hante the gumption of
a bear who makes a den, a fox who makes a hole, or a bird that
makes a nest, let alone a beaver, who is a dab at house building.
No man can enjoy the woods, that aint up to these things. If he
aint, he had better stay to his hotel, where there is one servant to
clean his shoes, another to brush his coat, a third to make his bed,
a fourth to shave him, a fifth to cook for him, a sixth to wait on
him, a seventh to wash for him, and half a-dozen more for him to
scold and bless all day. That's a place where he can go to bed and
get no sleep — go to dinner, and have no appetite — go to the win-
dow, and get no fresh air, l3ut snuff up the perfume of drains, bar-
rooms, and cooking-ranges — suffer from heat, because he can't wear
his coat, or from politeness, because he can't take it off — or go to
the beach, where the sea breeze won't come, it's so far up the coun-
try, where the white sand will dazzle, and where there is no shade,
because trees won't grow — or stand and throw stones into the
water, and then jump in arter 'em in despair, and forget the way
out. He'd better do anything than go to the woods.

" But if he can help himself like a man, oh, it's a glorious place.
The ways of the forest are easy to learn, its nature is simple, and
the cooking plain, while the fare is abundant. Fish for the catch-

- -t

i: II

270

TOWN AND OOUNTBT.

"'••

Ing, deer for the shooting, cool springs for the drinking, wood for
the cutting, appetite for eating, and sleep that malces no wooing. It
comes with the first star, and tarries till it fades into morning. For
the time, you are monarcli of all you survey. No claimant forbids
you ; no bailiff haunts you ; no thieves molest you ; no fops annoy
you. If the tempest rages without, you are secure in your lowly
tent. Though it humbles in its fury the lofty pine, and uproots
the stubborn oak, it passes harmlessly over you, and you feel for
once you are a free and independent man. You realize a term
which is a fiction in our constitution. Nor pride or envy, hatred
or malice, rivalry or strife is there. You are at peace with all the
world, and the world is at peace with you. You are not its author-
ity. You can worship God after your own fashion, and dread not
the name of bigot, idolator, heretic, or schismatic. The forest is
his temple — he is ever present, and the still, small voice of your
short and simple prayer seems more audible amid the silence that
reigns around you. You feel that you are in the presence of your
creator, before whom you humble yourself, and not of man, before
whom you clothe yourself with pride. Your very solitude seems
to impress you with the belief that though hidden from the world,
you are more distinctly visible, and more individually an object of
Divine protection, than any worthless atom like yourself ever
could be in the midst of a multitude — a mere unit of millions. Yes,
you are free to come, to go, to stay ; your home is co-extensive
with the wild woods. Perhaps it is better for a solitary retreat,
than a permanent home ; still it forms a part of what I call the
country.

" At Country Harbor we had a sample of the simple, plain,
natural, unpretending way in which neighbors meet of an evening
in the rural districts. But look at that house in the town, where
we saw the family assembled at breakfast this morning, and see
what is going on there to-night. It is the last party of the season.
The family leave the city, in a week, for the country. What a de-
lightful change from the heated air of a town-house, to the quiet
retreat of an hotel at a watering-place, where there are only six
hundred people collected. It is positively the very last party, and
would have been given weeks ago, but everybody was engaged for
so long a time arhead, there was no getting the fashionable folks to
come. It is a charming ball. The old ladies are fully dressed,
only they are so squeezed against the v/alls, their diamonds and
pearls are hid. And the young ladies are so lightly dressed, they
look lovely. And the old gentlemen seem so happy, as they walk
round the room, and smile on all the acquaintances of their early
days ; 'cuA tell every one, they look so well, and their daughters
are so handsome. It aint possible they are bored, and they try
not even to look so. And the room is so well lighted, and so well

TOWir AND OOUNTBT.

271

vood for
oolng. It
in». For
it forbids
ps annoy
ir lowly

uproots
I feel for
i a term
y, hatred
:h all the
:s author-
read not
forest is
! of your
snce that
I of your
D, before
le seems
le world,
object of
self ever
)ns. Yes,
extensive
r retreat,

call the

le, plain,

evening

n, where

and see

e season.

hat a de-

the quiet

only six

irty, and

;aged for

folks to

dressed,

:>nds and

sed, they

ley walk

eir early

aughters

they try-

1 so well

filled, perhaps a little too much so, to leave space for the dancers ;
but yet not more so than is fashionable. And then the young gen-
tlemen talk so enchantingly about Paris, and London, and lionic,
and so disparagingly of home, it is quite refreshing to hear them.
And they have been in such high society abroad, they ought to be
well bred, for they know John Manners^ and all the Manners fam-
ily, and well informed in politics, for they know John Russell, who
never says TU be hanged if I do this or that, but I will be
beheaded if 1 do ; in allusion to one of his great ancestors who was
as innocent of trying to subvert the constitution as he is. And they
have often seen ' Albert, Albert, Prince of Wales, and all the royal
family,' as they say iu England for shortness. They have travelled
with their eyes open, ears open, mouths open, and pockets open.
They have heard, seen, tasted, and bought everything worth having.
They are capital judges of wine, and that reminds them, there is
lots of the best in the next room ; but they soon discover they
can't have it in perfection in America. It has been nourished for
the voyage ; it has been fed with brandy. It is heady ; for when
they return to their fair friends, their hands are not quite steady ;
they are apt to spill things over the ladies' dresses (but they are so
good-natured, they only laugh ; for they never wear a dress but
wunst). And their eyes sparkle like jewels, and they look at their
partners as if they would eat 'em up« And I guess they tell them
so, for they start sometimes, and say :

" ' Oh, well now, that's too bad ! Why, how you talk % Well,
travellin' hasn't improved you.'

*' But it must be a charming thing to be eat up, for they look
delighted at the very idea of it ; and their mammas seem pleased
that they are so much to the tasle vi these travelled gentlemen.

" Well then, dancing is voted a bore by the handsomest couple
in the room, and they sit apart, and the uninitiated think they are
making love. And they talk so confidentially, and look so
amused j they seem delighted with each other. But they are only
criticising.

" ' Who is pink skirt 1 '

" ' Blue-nose Mary.'

*' ' Wliat in the world do they call her Blue-nose for ?'

" ' It is a nick-name for the Nova Scotians. Her father is one ;
he made his fortune by a div'mg-belU

" ' Did he ] Well, it's quite right then it should go with a belle.*

" ' How very good I May I repeat that 3 You do say such
clever things ! And who is that pale girl that reminds you of
brown holland, bleached white ? She looks quite scriptural ; she
has a proud look and a high stomach.'

" ' That's Rachael Scott, one of my very best friends. She is as
good a girl as ever lived. My ! I wish i was as rich as she is. I

273

TOWK AND OOUWTBT.

1$:.

have only three hundred thousand dollarsy hot she will hare foor irt
her father's death if he don't bust and fail. But, dear me ! h >v<
severe you are ! I am quite afraid of you. ] wonder what yoi
will say of me when my back is turned I'

"'Shall I tell your

" * Yes, if it isn't too savage,'

" The hint about the money ia not lost, for he is looking for a
fortune, it saves the trouble of making one ; ar>d he whispers some-
thing in her ear that pleases her uneommonly, for she sais ;

" * Ah now, the severest thing you can do is to flatter me tha4
way.'

" They don't discourse of the company any more ; they havo
too much to say to each other of themselves now.

" ' My ! what a smash I what in the world is that V

" ' Nothing but a large mirror. It is. lucky it is broken ; for if
the host saw himself in it, be might see the fece of a fooJ.'

" ' How uproariously those young men talk, and how loud the
music is, and how confounded hot the room is ! I must go home-.
But I must wait a moment till that noisy, tipsy boy i» dragged
down stairs, and shoved into a hack.'

" And this is upstart life, is it ? Yes^ birt there are changing
scenes in life. Look at these rooms next morning. The chan-
delier is broken ; the centre table upset, the curtains are ruined ;
the carpets are covered with ice-cream®, jelKes, blancmar^es, and
broken glass. And the elegant albwm, souvenirs, and autograph-
books, are all in the midst of this nasty mess.* The couches are
greasy, the silk ottoman shows it has been sat in, since it met with
an accident which was only a trijle, and there has been the devil to
pay everywhere. A doctor is seen going into the house, and soon
after a coffin is seen coming oat. An unbidden guest, a disgusting,
levelling democrat came to that ball, how or when no one knew ;
but there he is, and there he will remain for the rest of the
summer. He has victimized one poor girl already, and is now
strangling another. The yellow fever is there. Nature has sent
her avenging angel. There is no safety but in flight.

" Good gracious ! if people will ape their superiors, why won't
they imitate their elegance as well as their extravagance, and learn
that it is the refinement aloi>e of the higher orders, which in all
countries distinguishes them from the rest of mankind. The
decencies of life, when poHshed, beeoine its hriffhtest ornaments.
Gold is a means, and not an end. It can do a great deal, still it
can't do everything ; and among others, I guess, it can't make a
gentleman, or else California would be chock full of 'em. No ;
give me the country, and the folks that live in it, I say."

* Whoever thinks this description overA'awn, is referred to a remarkably
clever work which lately appeared in New York, entitled ^'•The Potiphax
Papers." Mr. Slick has evidently spared this elass of society.

TBB HOMBTMOOK.

278

fffourcl;

le ! h >V'
rbat yoi

ing for a
rs some-

me thai

ley httvo

1 } for if

loiid the

;o home.

dragged

changing
?he chan-
I ruined ;
>ges, and
rtograph-
iches are
net with

devil to
xnd soon
sgusting,
e knew ;

; of the
is now

has sen^

iy won't
nd learn
ch in all
The
naments.
il, still it
make a
No;

CHAPTER XXI.

THE HONEYMOON.

markably
. Potqihar

After having given vent to the foregoing lockrum, I took Jehoso.
phat Bean's illustrated "Biography of the Eleven Hundred and
Seven Illustrious American Heroes," and turned in to read a spell ;
but arter a while I lost sight of the heroes and their exploits, and
I got into a wide spekilation on all sorts of subjects, and, among
the rest, my mind wandered off to Jordan river, the CoUingwood
girls in particular, and Jessie and the Doctor, and the Beaver-dam,
and its inmates in general. I shall set down my musings as if I
was thinking aloud.

I wonder, sais I to myself, whether Sophy and I shall be happy
together, sposin always, that she is willing to put her head into the
yoke, for that's by no means sartain yet. I'll know better when I
can study her more at leisure. Still, matrimony is always a risk,
where you don't know what sort of breaking a critter has had when
young. Women, in a general way, don't look like the same critters
when they are spliced, that they do before ; matrimony, like sugar
and water, has a natural affinity for, and tendency to acidity. The
clear, beautiful, bright sunshine of the wedding morning, is too apt
to cloud over at twelve o'clock, and the afternoon to be cold, raw,
and uncomfortable, or else the heat generates storms that fairly
make the house shake, and the happy pair tremble again. Every •
body knows the real, solid grounds, which can alone make married
life perfect. I should only prose if I was to state them, but 1 have
an idea, as cheerfulness is a great ingredient, a good climate has a
vast deal to do with it, for who can be chirp in a bad one. Wed-
lock was first instituted in Paradise. Well, there must have been
a charming climate there. It could not have been too hot, for Eve
never used a parasol, or even a " kiss-me-quick," and Adam never
complained, though he wore no clothes, that the sun blistered his
skin. It couldn't have been wet, or they would have coughed all
the time, like consumptive sheep, and it would have spoiled their
garden, let alone giving them the chilblains and the snuffles. They
didn't require umbrellas, uglies, fans, or India-rubber shoes. There
was no such a thing as a stroke of the sun, or a snow-drift there.
The temperature must have been perfect, and connubial bliss, I allot,
was real jam "up. The only thing that seemed wanting there, was
for some one to drop in to tea, now and then, for Eve to have a
good chat with, while Adam was a studyin astronomy, or tryin to
invent a kettle that would stand fire ;

women

I talking,

that's a fact, and there are many little tbmgs they have to say to
12*

274

THB HONBTMOOH.

4^■

each other, that no man has any right to hear, and if he did, he
couldn't understand.

It's like a dodge Sally and I had to blind mother. Sally was
for everlastingly leaving the keys about, and every time there was
an inquiry about them, or a hunt for them, the old lady would read
her a proper lecture. So at last she altered the name, and said
" Sam, wo is shlizel," instead of where is the key, and she tried all
she could to find it out, but she couldn't, for the life of her.

Yes, what can be expected of such a climate as Nova Scotia or
England. Though the first can ripen Indian com and the other
can t, and that is a great test, I can tell you, it is hard to tell which
of them is wuss, for both are bad enough, gracious knows, and yet
the fools that live in them, brag that their own beats all natur. If
it is the former, well then thunder don't clear the weather as it does
to the south, and the sun don't come out bright again at wunst, and
all natur look clear, and tranquil, and refreshed ; and the flowers
and roses don't hang their heads down coily for the breeze to brush
the drops from their newly painted leaves, and then hold up and
look more lovely than ever j nor does the voice of song and merri-
ment arise from every tree ; nor fragrance and perfume fill the air,
till you are tempted to say, now did you ever see anything so
charming as this ? nor do you stroll out arm-inarm (that is sposin
you ain't in a nasty, dirty, horrid town,) and feel pleased with the
dear married gall and yourself, and all you see and hear while you
drink in pleasure with every sense — oh, it don't do that. Thunder
unsettles everything for most a week, there seems no end to the
gloom during these three or four days. You shiver if you don't
make a fire, and if you do you are fairly roasted alive. It's all
grumblin and growlin within, and all mud, slush, and slop outside.
You are bored to death everywhere. And if it's English climate,
it is wus still, because in Nova Scotia there is an end to all this at
last, for the west wind blows towards the end of the week soft, and
cool, and bracing, and sweeps away the clouds, and lays the dust,
and dries all up, and makes everything smile again. But if it is
English, it's unsettled and uncertain all the time. You can't depend
on it foi an hour. Now it rains, then it clears, after that the sun
shines ; but it rains, too, both together, like hystericks, laughing
and crying at the same time. The trees are loaded with water, and
hold it like a sponge; touch a bough of one with your hat, and you
are drowned in a shower-bath. There is no hope, for there is no
end visible, and when there does seem a little glimpse of light, so
as to make you think it is a going to relent, it wraps' itself up in a
foggy, drizzly mist, and sulks like anything.

In this country they have a warm summer, a magnificent autumn,
a clear, cold, healthy winter, but no sort of spring at all. la

THE HONfiTMOON.

275

did, he

lly was
ere was
lid read
md said
tried all

•

Icotia or
he other
jU which
and yet
tur. If
s it does
inst, and
5 flowers
to brush
up and
id merri-
1 the air,
thing so
is sposin
with the
hile you
Thunder
d to the
ou don't
It's all
outside,
climate,
1 this at
soft, and
the dust.
It if it is
t depend
the sun
aughing
ater, and
and you
ere is no
light, so
up in a

autumn,
all. la

England they have no summer and no winter.* Now, in my
opinion, that makes the diflTerwsnco in temper between the two races.
"Hie dear sky and bracing air hero, when they do come, give the
folkit good spirits; but the extremes of heat and cold limit the time,
And decrease the inclination tor exercise. Still the people are good-
natured, merry fellows. In England, the perpetual gloom of the
eky afleets the disposition of the men. America knows no such
temper as exists in Britain. People here can't even form an idea
of it. Folks often cut off their children there in their wills for half
nothing, won't be reconciled to them on any terms, if they once
displease them, and both they and their sons die game, and when
death sends cards of invitation for the last assemblage of a family,
they write declensions. There can't be much real love where there
ii no tenderness. A gloomy sky, stately houses, and a cold, formal
people, make Cupid, like a bird of passage, spread his wings, and
take flight to a more congenial climate.

Castles have shew-apartments, and the vulgar gaze with stupid
wonder, and envy the owners. But there are rooms in them all,
not exhibited. In them the imprisoned bird may occasionally be
ieitn, as in the olden time, to flutter against the casement and pine
in the gloom of its noble cage. Tliere are chambers, too, in which
grief, anger, jealousy, wounded pride, and disappointed ambition,
pour out their sighs, their groans, and imprecations, unseen and
unheard. Tlie halls resound withi mirth and revelry, and the eye
grows dim with its glittering splendor ; but, amid all this ostenta-
tious brilliancy, poor human nature refuses to be comforted with
diamonds and pearls, or to acknowledge that happiness consists in
gilded galleries, gay equipages, or fashionable parties. They are
cold and artificial. The heart longs to discard this joyless pa-
geantry, to surround itself with human affections, and only asks to
love and be loved.

Still EngK\nd is not wholly composed of castles and cottages,
and there are very many happy homes in it, and thousands upon
thousands of happy people in them, in spite of the melancholy
climate, the destitution of the poor and the luxury of the rich.
God is good. He is not onlv merciful, but a just judge. He
equalizes the condition of all. The industrious poor man is content,
for he relies on Providence, and his own exertions for his daily
bread. He cams his food, and his labor gives him a zest for it.
Ambiticii craves, and is never satisfied, one. is poor amid his
prodigal wealth, the other rich in his frugal poverty. iVb man is
rich whose expenditure exceeds hit meam ; and no one is poor, whose
incomings exceeds his outgoings. Barring such things as climate,
over which wo have no control, happiness, in my idea, consists in

* I wonder what Mr. 8Uek would My now, in 1865.

THE HOKETMOON.

the mind, aipd not in the pitrse. These are plain common truths,
and every body will tell you there is nothing ne\r in them, just as
if there was anything new under the sun but my wooden clocks,
and yet they only say so because they can't deny them, for who
acts as if he ever heard of them before. Now, if they do know
them, why the plague don't they regulate their time-pieces by
them. If they did, matrimony wouldn't make such an everlastin
transmogrification of folks as> it does, would it ?

The way cupidists scratch their head, and open their eyes and
stare, after they are married, reminds me of Felix Culpepper. He
was a judge at Saint Lewis^ on the Mississippi, and the lawyers
used to talk gibberish to him, yougerry eyegerry iggery, ogerry,
and tell him it was Littleton's Norman French, and Law Latin.
It fairly onfakilised him. Wedlock works just such changes on
folks sometimes. It makes me laugh and then it fairly scares me.

Sophy, dear, how will you and I get on, eh ? The Lord only
knows, but you are sm. uncommon sensible gall, and people tell me
till I begin to believe it myself^ that I have some common sense,
so we must try to learn the chart of life,, so as to avoid those sunk
rocks so many people make shipwreck on. I have often asked
myself the reason of all this onsartainty. Let us ji-st see how folks
talk and think, and decide on this subject. First and foremost
they have got a great many cant terms,, and you can judge a good
deal from them. There is the honeymoon now, was there ever
such a silly word as thatl Minister said the Dutch at New
Amsterdam, as they used to call New York, brought out the word
to America, for all the friends of the new married couple, in
Holland, did nothing for a whole month, but smoke, drink
metheglin^ fa tipple made of honey and gin,) and they called that
bender the honeymoon ^ since then the word has remained, though
metheglin is forgot for something better.

Well, when a couple is married now, they give up a whole
month to each other, what an everlastin sacrifice, ain't it> out of a
man's short life I The reason is, they say, the metheglin gets sour
after that, and ain't palateable no more, and what is left of it is
used for picklrn cucumbers, peppers, and nastertions, and what not.
Now as Brother Eldad, the doctor, says,, let us dissect this phrase,
and find out what one whole moon means, and then we shall under-
stand what this wonderful thing is. The new moon now, as a body
might say, ain't nothing. It's just two small lines of a semicircle,
like half a wheel, with a little strip of white in it, about as big as a
cart tire, and it sits a little after sundown •,, and as it gives no light
you must either use a candle or go to bed in the dark, now that's
the first week, and it's no great shakes to brag on, is it? Well,
then there is the first quarter, and calling that the first which
ought to be second, unless the moon has only three (],uarters, which*

ion trutlw,
m, just as
en clocks,
3, for who
do know
pieces by
everlastia

eyes and
per. He
e lawyers
h ogerry,
aw Latin,
langes on
icares me.
jord only
le tell me
ion sense,
hose sunk
ten asked
bow folks

foremost
p a good
lere ever

at New
the word
jouple, in
(e, drink
ailed that
d, though

a whole
out of a

gets sour
ft of it i»
what not.
is phrase,
all under-
ks a body
emicircle,

THE HONKTKOOir*

277

as a
s no light
ow that's
? Well,
rst which
ire, "whicb*

sounds odd, shows that the new moon counts for tioihin^ Well,
the first quarter is something like the thing, thiiUgh not the real
genuine article either. It's better than the otbar, \mi U» light don't
quite satisfy us neither. Well, then conta* tba full moon and that
is all there is, as one may say. Now, neitbor tba fttoon nor nothin
else can be more than full, and when you have got all, there is
nothing more to expect. But a man muft b@ A blockhead indeed
to expect the moon to remain one minute QifiMt \i li full, as every
night clips a little bit off, till there is a conJiiderAble juntt gone by
the time the week is out, and what is wor«e, @v@ry night there is
more and more darkness afore it rises, U e^mm reluctant, and
when it does arrive it hante long to stay, far the last quarter takes
its turn at the lantern. That only rises a little Afore the sun, as if
it was ashamed to be caught napping at tbftt bour'^^ihat quarter
therefore is nearly as dark as ink. Bo you nee, the new and last
quarter go for nothing ; that everybody will Admit The first ain't
much better, but the last half of that quarter And tbli first of the full,
make a very decent respectable week.

Well, then, what's all this when its fried 1 Why It amounts to
this, that if there is any resemblance between A lunar and a lunatic
month, that the honeymoon lasts only one good week.

Don't be skeared, Sophy, when you read tliii, because we must
look things in the face and call them by their right name.

Well, then, let us call it the honey.week. Now if it takes a
whole month to make one honey-week, it jnuit cut to waste
terribly, mustn't itl But then you know A man can't wive and
thrive the same year. Now wastin so mu«b of that precious
month is terrible, ain't it % But oh me, bad Oi It is, it ain't the
worst of it. There is no insurance office for l»ij^ph>i?w , there is no
policy to be had jo cover losses — you must bear fJi*m all yourself.
Now suppose, just suppose for one moment, and ]' itivsly such
things have happened before now, they have \vAo;t^ ; j bavo Itnown
them occur more than once or twice myf**<lf « "ujnjg my own
friends, fact, I assure you. Suppose now that wct'R i.^ (;old, cloudy,
or uncomfortable, where is the honeymoon tb('F^ Ke<M7llev;'. '.here
is only one of them, there ain't two. You can t s.iy in rained cats
and dogs this week, let us try the next ; vou can't Uo that, it's ov(w
and gone for ever. Well, if you begin life with disoppointment, it
is apt to end in despair.

Now, Sophy dear, as I said before, don't get skittish at seeing
this, and start and race off and vow you won't ever hi the hailer bo
put on you, for 1 kinder sorter guess that, with your sweet ten^per,
good sense, and lovin heart, and with the ligbt'hand 1 have for a
rein, our honeymoon will last through life, We will give if that
silly word that foolish boys and girls use without knowing its
meanin, and we will count by years and uot by iiiuuths, and we

is!

278

THB HOKETHOOK.

won't expect what neither marriage, nor any other earthly thing
can give, perfect happiness. It tante in the nature of things, and
don't stand to reason, that earth is Heaven, Slickville paradise, or
you and me angels ; we ain't no such a thing. If you was, most
likely the first eastwardly wind (and though it is a painful thing to
confess it, I must candidly admit there is an easterly wind some-
times to my place to home), why you would just up wings and off
to the sky, like wink, and say you didn't like the land of the Puri-
tans, it was just like themselves, cold, hard, uncongenial, and repul-
sive ; and what should I do ? Why most likely remain behind, for
there is no marrying or giving in marriage up there.

No, no, dear, if you are an angel, and positively, you are amaz-
ingly like one, why the first time I catch you asleep I will clip your
wings and keep you here with me, until we are both ready to start
together. We won't hope for too mucb^ nor fret for trifles, will
we ? These two things are the greatest maxims in life I know of.
When I was a boy I used to call them command m6r^!;s, but I got
such a lecture for that, and felt so sorry for it afterwards, I never
did again nor will as long as I live. Oh, dear, I shall never forget
the lesson poor dear old Minister taught me on that occasion.

There was a thanksgiving ball wunst to Slickville, and I wanted
to go, but I had no clothes suitable for such an occasion as tha<:, and
father said it would cost more than it was worth to rig me out for
it, so I had to stop at home. Sais Mr. Hopewell to me,

" Sam," said he, " don't fret about it, you will find it * all the
same a year hence.' As that holds good in most things, don't it
show us the folly now of those trifles we set our hearts on, when in
one short year thej will be disregarded or forgotten."

" Never fear," said I, " 1 am not a-going to break the twelfth
commandment."

" Twelfth commandment," said he, repeatin the words slowly,
layin down his book, taking off his spectacles, and lookin hard at
me, almost onfakilised. " Twelfth commandment, did I hear right,
Sam," said he, " did you say that 1 "

Well, I saw there was a squall rising to windward, but boy-like,
instead of shortei:ing sail, and taking down royals and top-gallant
masts, and making all snug, I just braved it out, and prepared to
meet the blast with every inch of canvass set. " Yes, sir," said I,
" the twelfth."

" Dear me," said he, " poor boy, that is my fault. I really
thought you knew there were only ten, and had them by heart
years ago. They were among the first things I taught you. How
on earth could you have forgotten them so soon. Repeat them to

me.

Well, I went through the
to ampersand frilhout makiiig * flingle atop

all, down to " anything that is his,

n<
di

\ \} .

■^'''^ll»i!Jl*^>'"

TUB HONEYMOON.

279

hly thing
ings, and
adise, or
as, most
thing to
id some-
s and off
;he Puri-
id repul-
hind, for

re amaz*
lip your

to start
fles, will
enow of!
>ut I got

1 never
5r forget
m.

wanted
ha<^, and

out for

-all the
don't it
wrhen in

twelfth

slowly,
hard at
r right,

:>y-lik€,
-gallant
ired to
said J,

really
Y heart
How
lem to

8 his,"

*' Sam,'* said he, " don't do it again, that's a good soul, for it
frightens me. I thought I must have neglected you."

" Well," sais I, " there are two more, Sir-"

"Two more," he said, " why what under the sun do you meani
what are they T'

" Why," sais 1. " the eleventh is, ' Expect nothin, and you shall
not be disappointed,' and the twelvth is, ' Fret not thy gizzard.' "

" And pray, sir," said he, looking thundersqualls at me, " where
did you learn themf

" From Major Zeb Vidito," said I.

" Major Zeb Vidito," he replied, " is the greatest reprobate in
the army. He is the wretch who boasts that he fears neither God,
man, nor devil. Go, my son, gather up your books, and go home.
You can return to your father. My poor house has no room in it
for Major Zeb Vidito, or his pupil, Sam Slick, or any such profane
wicked people, and may the Lord have mercy on you."

Well, to make along story short, it brought me to my bearings
that. I had to heave to, lower a boat, send a white flag to him,
beg pardon, and so on, and we knocked up a treaty of peace, and
made friends again.

" I won't say no more about it, Sam," said he, " but mind my
words, and apply your experience to it afterwards in life, and see
if I aint right. Grime has hut two travelling companions. It com-
mences its journey with the scoffer^ and ends it with the blasphemer^
not that talking irreverently aint very improper in itself, but \i
destroys the sense of right and wrong, and prepares the way for

sm.

Now, I won't call these commandments, for the old man was
right, it's no way to talk, I'll call them maxims. Now, we won't
expect too much, nor fret over trifles, will we, Sophy 1 It takes a
great deal to make happiness, for every thing must be in tune like
a piano ; but it takes very little to spoil it. Fancy a bride now
having a tooth-ache, or a swelled face during the honeymoon. In
courtship she won't show, but in marriage she can't heip it ; or a
felon on her finger, (it is to be hoped she hain't given her hand to
one) ; or fancy now, just fancy, a hooping-cough caught in the cold
church, that causes her to make a noise like drowning, a great gur-
gling in-draught, and a great out-blowing, like a young sporting
porpoise, and instead of being all alone with her own dear husband,
to have to admit the horrid doctor, and take draughts that make
her breath as hot as steam, and submit to have nauseous garlic and
brandy rubbed on her breast, spine, palms of her hands, and soles
of her feet, that makes the bridegoom, every time he comes near
her to ask her how she is, sneeze as if he was catching it himself.
He don't say to himself in an undertone, damn it, how unlucky
this is. Of (^urse not \ he is too bsppy to twdsr^ If he adut too

i ill ,^

^80

THB HONSTICOON.

to! ,

il 'f

food, as he ought to be ; and she don't say, eigh — augb, like a dotl'
ey, for they have the hooping-cough all the year round : *^ d§Ar
love, eigh — augh, how wretched this is, ain't it t eigh— augh," of
course not ; how can she be wretched t Aint it her honeymoon I
and aint she as happy as a bride can be, though she does eigb— >
augh her slippers up amost. But it won't last long, she feels mm
it won't, she is better now, the doctor says it will be soon ov#r }
yes, but the honeymoon will be over, too, and it don't com© likd
Christmas, once a year. When it expires like a dying swan, it singf
its own funeral hymn.

Well, then fancy, just fancy, when she gets well, and looks M
chipper as a canary-bird, though not quite so yaller from the effa^
of cold, that the bridegroom has his turn and is taken down with
the acute rheumatism, and can't move, tack nor sheet, and has can)'
phor, turpentine, and hot embrocations of all sorts and kinds ftp*
plied to l.lin, till his room has the identical perfume of a drugglst'i
shop, whilft he screams if he aint moved, and yells if he is, md hl«
temper ^ ~eps out. It don't break out, of course, for he is a happy
man ; Is' it just peeps out as a masculine he-angel's would ir \m
Wtis iTirtured.

The hQl is, lookin at life, with its false notions, false hopes, and
false pro! .'ises, my wonder is, not that married folks don't get on
better, ■) ohat they get on as well as they do. If they regard
matrimony as a lottery, is it any wonder more blanks than prlzdi
turn up on the wheel 1 Now, my idea of mating a man is, that ifc li
the same as matching a horse ; the mate ought to have the mm§
spirit, the same action, the same temper, and the same training.
Each should do his part, or else one soon becomes strained,
sprained, and spavined, or broken winded, and that one is aboili
the best in a general way that suffers the most.

Don't be shocked at the comparison ; but to my mind a splen*
diferous woman and a first-chop horse is the noblest works of
creation. They take the rag off the bush quite ; a woman " that
will come " and a horse that " will go " ought to make any mm
happy. Give me a gall that all I have to say to is, " Quick, pick
up chips and call your father to dinner" and a horse tlwt
enables yon to say, ^' I am thar" That's all I ask. Now, ju«fc
look at the different sorts of lo -muking in this world. Fij'it,
there is a boy and gall love ; they are practising • he gamut, and ft
great bore it is to hear and see tbcm; but poor little things, theU'
whole heart and soul is in it, as they were the year before on a doll
or a top. They don't know a heart from a gizzard, and if you ask
them what a soul is, they will say it is the dear sweet soul they
love. It begins when they enter the dancing-school, and ends
when they go out into the world ; but afler all, I believe it is tb^
only real romance in life.

!,;.:.

THB HOKBTMOOK.

281

lookn M
the eff»?^
lown with
1 hoi cftr^i*
kinds &P'
druggfifc'i
!.<, Hud bS«
is a hftupy
ould if \m

opes, and

n't get on

ley regard

ban prizes

, tbat it if

tbe «ftm@

training,

strftined,

is about

a spieiv
vorks of
an "tbftt
any man
lick, pick
>rse tlwt
few, ju»t
Fh'it,
[it, and a,
gs, tbeir
on a doll

you ask
oul fbey
nd en<Js

it' is Ibti

Then there is young maturity love, and what is that half the
time based on ? vanity, vanity, and the deuce a thing else. The
young lady is handsome, no, that's not the word, she is beautiful,
and is a belle, and all the young fellows are in her train. To win
the prize is an object of ambition. The gentleman rides well, hunts
and shoots well, and does everything well, and moreover he is a
fancy man, and all the girls admire him. It is a great thing to
conquer the hero, aint it ? and distance all her companions ; and it
is a proud thing for him to win the prize from higher, richer, and
more distinguished men than himself. It is the triumph of the two
sex's. They are allowed to be the handsomest couple ever mar-
fled in that church. What an elegant man, what a lovely woman,
what a splendid bride ! they seemed made for each other ! how
happy they both are, eyes can't show — words can't express it;
they are the admiration of all.

If it is in England, they have two courses of pleasure before
them — to retire to a country-house or travel. The latter is a great
bore, it exposes people, it is very annoying to be stared at. Soli-
tude is the thing. They are all the world to each other, what do
they desire beyond it — what more can they ask ? They are quite
happy. How long does it lastl for they have no resources beyond*
excitemient. Why, it lasts till the first juicy day comes, and that
comes soon in England, and the bridegroom don't get up and look
out of the window, on the cloudy sky, the falling rain, and the in-
undated meadows, and think to himself, " well, this is too much
bush, aint it? I wonder what de Courcy and de Lacy and de
Devilcourt are about to day ? " and then turn round with a yawn
that nearly dislocates his jaw. Not a bit of it. He is the most
happy man in England, and his wife is an angel, and he don't throw
himself down on a sofa and wish they were back in town. It aint
natural he should ; and she don't say, " Charles, you look dull
dear," nor he reply ' Well, to tell you the truth, it is devlish dull
here, that's a fact," nor she say, " Why you are very complimen-
tary," nor he rejoin, " No, I dont't mean it as a compliment, but
to state it as a fact, whaf that Yankee, what is his name, Sam Slick,
or Jim Crow, or Uncle Tom, or somebody or another calls an
established fact ! " Her eyes don't fill with tears at that, nor does
she retire to her room and pout and have a good cry ; why should
she ? she is so happy, and when the honied honeymoon is over,
they will return to i >wn and all will be sunshine once more.

But there is one little thing both of them forget, which they find
out when they do return. They have rather, just a little over-
looked, vr undervalued means, and they can*t keep such an estab-
lishtnent as they desire, or equal to their former friends. They are
both no 1 >nger single. He is not asked so often where he used to
be, nor courted and flattered as he lately was ; and she is a mar«

ii^

M^m^.

282

THB HONEYMOON,

jl!

ried woman now, and the beaus no longer cluster around her.
Each one thinks the other the cause of this dreadful change. It
was the imprudent and unfortunate match did it. Affection was
sacrificed to pride, and that deity can't and won't help them, but
takes pleasure in tormenting them. First comes coldness, and then
estrangement ; after that words ensue, that don't sound like the
voice of true love, and they fish on their own hook, seek their own.
remedy, take their own road, and one or the other, perhaps both,
find that road leads to the devil. ; ^

Then, there is the " ring-fence match," which happens every-
where. Two estates or plantations, or farms adjoin, and there id
an only son in one, and an only daughter in the other ; and the
world, and fathers, and mothers, think what a suitable match it
would be, and what a grand thing a ring-fence is, and they cook it
up in the most fashionable style, and the parties most concerned
take no interest in it, and having nothing particular to object to,
marry. Well, strange to say, half the time it don't turn out bad,
for as they don't expect much, they can't be much disappoint 'd.
They get after a while to love each other from habit ; and findihg
qualities they didn't look for, end by getting amazin' fond of each
other.

Next is a cash-match. Well, that's a cheat. It begins in dis-
simulation, and ends in detection and punishment. I don't pity the
parties ; it serves them right. They meet without pleasure, and
part without pain. The first time I went to Nova Scotia to vend
clocks, I fell in with a German officer, who married a woman with
a large fortune ; she had as much as three hundred pounds. He
could never speak of it without getting up, walking round the room,
rubbing his hands, and smacking his lips. The greatest man he
ever saw, his own prince, had only five hundred a-year, and his
daughters had to select and buy the chickens, wipe the glasses,
starch their own muslins, and see the fine soap made. One half
of them were protestants, and the other half Catholics, so as to bait
the hooks for royal fish of either creed. They were poor and proud,
but he hadn't a morsel of pride in him, for he had condescended to
marry the daughter of a staff surgeon ; and she warn't poor, for
she had three hundred pounds. He couldn't think of nothin' but
his fortune. He spent the most of his time in building castles, not
in Germany, but in the air, for they cost nothing. He used to
delight to go marooning* for a day or of two in Maitland settle-
ment, where old soldiers are located, and measured every man he
mt*; by the gauge of his purse. " Dat poor teevil," he would say,
"is wort twenty pounds, well I am good for tree hundred, in gold
ai^d silver, and provinch notes, and de mortgage on Burkit Crowse's

*■ Marooning differs from pic-nicking in this — the former continues several
days, the other lasts but one.

ound her.
lange. It
iction was
them, but
, and then
1 like the
their own.
laps both,

ns every-
d there is
; and the
match it
sy cook it
concerned
object to,
1 out bad,
ippoinl 'd.
lid finding
id of each

ns in dis-
't pity the
sure, and
1 to vend
man with
nds. He
the room,
man he
and his
glasses,
One half
as to bait
nd proud,
cended to
poor, for
>thin' but
Lstles, not
i used to
ad settle-
y man he
ould say,
d, in gold
Crowse's

aes several

THB HOKSTMOOir.

288

farm for twenty-five pounds ten shillings and eleven pence halfpenny
— fifteen times as much as he is, pesides ten pounds interest." if
he rode a horse, he calculated how many he could purchase ; and
he found they would make an everlastin' cahoot.* If he sailed in
a boat, he counted the flotilla he could buy ; and at last he used
to think, " Veil now, if my vrow would go to de depot (graveyard)
vat is near to de church, Goten Himmel, mid my fortune I could
marry any pody I liked, who had shtock of cattle, shtock of clothes,
and shtock in de park, pesides farms and foresht lands, and dyke
lands, and meadow lands, and vind-mill and vater-mill ; but dere
is no chanse she shall die, for I was dirty (thirty) when I married
her, and she was dirty-too (thirty-two.) Tree hundred pounds!
Veil, it's a great shum ; but vat shall I do mid it. If I leave him
mid a lawyer, he say, Mr. Von Sheik, you gub it to me. If I put
him into de pank, den te ting shall break, and my forten go smash,
squash — vot dey call von shilling in de pound. If I lock him up,
den soldier steal and desert away, and conetry people shall hide
him, and I will not find him no more. I shall mortgage it on a
farm. I feel vary goot, vary pig, and vary rich. If I would not
lose my bay and commission, I would kick de colonel, kiss his vife,
and put my cane thro' his vinder. I don't care von damn for
nopoty no more,"

Well, his wife soon after that took a day and died ; and he fol-
lowed her to the grave. It was the first time he ever gave her pre-
cedence, for he was a disciplinarian; he knew the difference of
" rank and file," and liked to give the word of command, " liear
rank, take open order — march !" Well, I condoled with him about
his loss. Sais he : " Mr. Shlick, I didn't lose much by her : The
soldier carry her per order, de pand play for noting, and de crape
on de arm came from her ponnet."

" But the loss of your wife 1" said I.

Well, that excited him, and he began to talk Hessian. *^Jube8
renovare dolorcm" said he.

" I don't understand High Dutch,' sais I, " when it's spoke so
almighty fast."

" It's a ted language," said he.

I was a goin to tell him I didn't know the dead had any language,
but I bit in my breath.

" Mr. Shlick," said he, " de vife is gone," (and clapping his waist-
coat pocket with his hand, and grinning like a chissy cat) he added,
" but de monish remain.''^

Yes, fuch fellows as Von Sheik don't call this ecclesiastical and
civil contract, wedlock. They use a word that expresses their
meaning better — matri-woney. Well, even money aint all gold,

* Cahoot is one of the new coinage, and, in Mexico, means a band, or caval-
cade.

'■m

:!:■

284

THB HONBTXOON.

Hi'''!'

for there are two hundred and forty nasty, dirty, mulatto-looking
copper pennies in a sovereign ; and they have the affectation to
call the filthy incrustation if they happen to be ancient coin, verd-
antique. Well, fine words are like fine dresses ; one often covet s
ideas that ain't nice, and the other sometimes conceals garments
that fire a little the worse for wear. Ambition is just as poor a
motive. It can only be gratified at the expense of a journey o\'er
a rough road, and he is a fool who travels it by a borrov/ed ligiit,
and generally findi? he takes a rise out of himself

Then thore is a cla«:,s like Von Sheik, " who feel so pig and so
hugeaciously grandiferous," they look on a wife's fortune with
contempt. The independent man scorns connection, station, ind
money. He has got all three, and more of each than is sufficient
for a dozen men. He regards with utter indifference the opinion
of the world, and its false notions of life. Tie can afford to please
himself; he does not stoop if he marries beneath his own rank ;
for he is able to elevate any wife to his. He is a great admirer of
beauty, which is confined to no circle and no region. The world is
before him, and he will select a woman to gratify himself and not
another. He has the right and ability to do so, and he fulfils his
intenti n. Now an independent man is an immovable one, until
he is proved, and a soldier is brave until the day of trial comes.
He, however, is independent and brave enough to set the opinion
of the world at defiance, and he marries. Until then, society is
passive, but when defied and disobeyed, it is active, bitter, and
relentless.

The conflict is only cor-nienced — marrying is merely firing the
first gun. Tile Daltlr has yet to be fought. If he can do without
the world, the world can do without him, but, if he enters it again
bride in hand, he must fight his way inch by inch, and step by step.
She is slighted and he is stung to the quick. She is ridiculed and
he is mortified to death. He is able to meet open resistance, but
he is for ever in dread of an ambuscade. He sees a sneer in every
smile, he fears an insult in every whisper. The unmeaning jest
must have a hidden point for him. Politeness seems cold, even
good-nature looks like the insolence of condescension. If his wife
is addressed, it is manifestly to draw her out. If her dociety is not
sought, it is equally plain there is a conspiracy to place her in
Coventry. To defend her properly, and to put her on her guard it
is necessary he should know her weak points himself.

But, alas, in this painful investigation, his ears are wounded by
false accents, his eyes by false motions and vulgar attitudes, ho
finds ignorance where ignorance is absurd, and knowledge where
knowledge is shame, and what is worse, this distressing criticism
has been forced upon him, and he has arrived at the conclusion
that beauty without intelligence, is the most valueless attribute of *

▲ DIBH OF CLAMS.

285

;to-looking
ictation to
2oin, verd-
ten covets
I garments
; as poor a
irney over
v/ec! ligiit,

►ig and so
tune with
ation, and
i sufficient
le opinion
I to please
iwn rank ;
kdmirer of
le world is
ilf and not
} fulfils his

one, until
ial comes,
he opinion

society is
)itter, and

firing the
o without
rs it again
p by step,
culed and
tance, but

in every
ming jest
old, even

his wife
ety is not
ce her in
r guard it

mded by
tudes, ho
ge where

criticism
onclusion

ribute of

a woman. Alas, the world is an argus-eyed, many-headed, sleep-
less, heartless monster. The independent man, if he would retain
his inde[)ftndence, must retire with his wife to his own home, and
it would bo a pity if in thinking of his defeat he was to ask himself,
was my pretty doll worth this terrible struggle after all ? wouldn't
it ? Well I pity that man, for at most he has only done a foolish
thing, and he has not passed through life without being a public
benefactor. He has held a reversed lamp. While he has walked in
the dark himself, he has shed light on the path of others.

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 spite-
ful an article as this, and woman like, make mor omplimentary
remarks than I deserve. Well, it ain't like me. tiat's a fact, but
it is like the world for all that. Well then y ou wi 'izz ^ your little
head, whether after all there is any happiness in n 'd 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 com-
patible, 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 pos-
sible 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 ^o 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

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.'-s-i I

A DISB OF QJ,AM9,

wait to be pressed to eat, but helps himse^ 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 him-
self on his knowledge of cheese, and will tell you in the twlTikling
of an eye which is the best in point of flavor or richness. Still he
is not proud — he visits the poor when there is no gentlemen in the
neighborhood, 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 how 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 1 He is a
capital sailm*, 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 archi-
tects, 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 letV open for
him, he cuts right through it, and if by accident he is locked in, he
won't wfut to be let out, but hacks a passage slap through the floor.
Not content with being entertained himself, he brings a whole reti-
nue 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, sne^es on her with great contempt, and tells her she
takes BUufC The &ot is, he is hated everywhere he travels for his

3tioe to his
the larder,
raiting on.

Molasses
loisseur in
\ fruit, and
cream, for
rides him-
) twitikling
^ Still he
men in the
e fare and
rou would
kl appetite,
e Is a wise
1 is aware
igers. He
Bd, it is by
board, and

skill can
I He is a
ish, and he
) he leaves
Few archi-
tability of
ughly, and
retreats in
1 traveller,

lults, from
void them,
tes a devil
;reacherous
his habits,
ft. open for
icked in, he
h the floor,
whole reti-
home, and
>-gall's bed-
eath under
right on to
s her a nip
ells her she
ireUfor hit

A DISH OF CLAMS

387

ugly behavior as much as an Englishmatn, and that Is a great d^
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, 1 take no body with me a^visitin, keep good hours, and
give as little trouble as possible ; and as for goin to the servant-
galFs room, under pretence of wanting a candle, Vd scorn such an
action. Now, as there is lots of good things in thb vessel, rat-like,
I intend to have a good dinner.

" Sorrow, what have you got for ?js to-day 1"
f " 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." - *ii^v

"Sposen I git you a fish dinner to-day, Massa 1" -.;:.Q.Mm^ "
1 "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." ; ; : -i

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

" Let us have steaks ofi" 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 noten 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 ha don't like to ha tioular, so ho takes sam«

1 IL

liili

288

A DISH 07 OLAMB.

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 bare-
faced falsehood. What an impudent liar you are, to talk so before
my face. I never said anything of the kind to you." v.^ 'j-^^

"Why, Massa, now," said Sorrow, "dis here child is wide
awake, that ar a fac, and no mistake, and it's onpossible he is a
dreaming. What is it you did say den, when you ordered dinner 1"

" 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-raddish, Massa
Slick," said he, "I wish I had some, or could get some ashore
for you, but hoss-raddish ain't French, and dese folks nebber hear
tell ob him.* " x-' ', '-^ .,...-« , — . -

" Make some."

" Oh,*^ Massa, now you is makin' fun ob dis poor nigger."

" I am not. Take a turnip, scrape it the same as the raddish,
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 Misses
would a Tubbed 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 'among de ladies in
de instep, but not a mossel ob pride to de niggers. 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 niggers, 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 ? wouldn't
she 1 I'll be dad fetched if she wouldn't."*

" 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 stretch-
ing himself straight; "Massa, dis here niggr^ is a rambitious

nigger, and he kersaits he can take de shine ov^

any nigger that
'"" 'structed ~""

ever played de juice harp, in cookin' clams, i, .^ses 'structea me
husself. Massa, I shall nebber forget dat lime 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 parsimmcn seed, for de wedder
was brilin' hot.

* Shooting one's granny, or grandmother, m^avs fancying you have discover-
ed what waa well known before.

make no
nrid same

I a bare-
so before

is wide
e he is a
dinner 1"

tical ting
tinctions,
h, Massa
ie ashore
>ber hear

) raddish,
ie pepper

w Misses

Ets a great

iere; dey

e ladies in

Oh, you

f you had

I her tree

and order

'stracted,

wouldn't

A DI8B or OLl.Kfl.

pron, and,
to stretch-
'ambitious
ligger that
•ucted me
vest day I
is lyin' on
de wedder

ive diacover-

tank

' «<SoiTow,' said she. ^^^ * '^"

" * Yes, Missus,' said I.

"^ Put de pillar under my head. Dat is right,^ said she;
you. Sorrow,

" Oh, Massa, how different she was from Abulitinists to Boston.
She always said, tankee, for ebery ting. Now Ablutinists say,
* Hand me 4at piller, you darned rascal, and den make yourself
skarse; you is as black as the debbil's hind leg,' And den she

My—

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

" ' Sorrow,' says she, * I am goin' to take a long, berry long
journey, to de far off eounteree.'

" ' Oh, dear me ! Missus,' says I ; * Oh Lord, Missus, you ain't
agoin' to die, is you V and I fell down on my knees, and kissed her
hand, and s^d 'Oh, Missus; don't die, please Missus? What will
become ob dis ni^er if you do ? If de Lord, in his goodnes9, take
you away, let me go wid you. Missus V and I was so sorry I boo-
hooed 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 1 Stand up : I do railly believe you do lub
yout Missus. Go to dat closet, and pour yourself out a glass ob
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 did
fashen.

" ' What made you think I was a goin' {ot to die,' said she 1 * do
Hook so ill?'

" ' No, Missus ; but dat is de way de Boston preacher dat staid
here last week, spoke to me : de long-le^ed, sour face, Yankee
villain. He is uglier and yallerer den Aunt Phillissy Anne's
crooked-necked squashes. I don't want tx> see no more ob such
fellers, pysoiiin de minds ob de niggers here.'

" Says he, * my man.'

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

** * Poor, ignorant wretch,' says he.

*' ' Mas«i,' 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 plentv ob 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
venison, all I got to do is to say to dat Yankee oberseer, ' Missus
and I want some deer or iiome canvas-ba<sk ; I spect you had better
13

•90

A DX8H OF CbAU»,

''1

go look fox •ome, Massa Buccra.' No, no, Massa^ I afn't bo
^;norant as to let any man come over me to make seed corn out ob
tne. If you want to see wretches, go to Jamestown, and see de
poor white critters, dat ab to do all dere own worlc deyselves, cause
aey are so poor dey ab no niggers to do it for em.'

" Sals he, ' hab you ebber tort ob dat long long journey dat is
afore you 1 to dat far off counteree where you will be mancipated
And ftee, where de weary hab no rest, and de wicked hab to labor V

" * Down to Boston, I suppose, Massa,' sais I, ♦ among dem pen-
tentionistt and abhitionists. Massa, ablution is a mean, nasty, dirty
ting, and don't suit niggers what hab good Missus like me, and I
won't take dat journey, and I hate dat cold country, and I want
BOttln to do wid mansipationists.'

" * It tain't dat,' sais he ' its up above,' . '

** * What,' sais I, ' up dere in de mountains? What onder de sun
ihould I go dere for to be froze to defth, or to be voured by wild
bea«tfi. Massa, I won't go no where widout dear Missus goes.'

** ' I mean Heaben,' he said, ' where all are free and all equal ;
where I'oy is, and sorrow enters not,'

" ' What,' sais I, * Joy in Heaben % I don't believe one word ob
it. Joy was de greatest tief on all dese tree plantations of
Mil aus ; 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 neber go dere.
Well, I clare now ! Yah, yah, yah, Massa, you is foolin dis here
njggar now, I know you is, when you say Joy is dead and gone to
I^aben, and dis child is shut out for ebber. Massa,' sais I, * me
and Missus don't 'low ablution talk here, on no account whatsom-
erer ; de only lammin we lows of is whippin fellows who tice nig-
gara to rections, and de slaves of dis plantation will lam you as
iure as you is bawn, for dey lub Missus dearly. You had better
kummence de long journey us^elf. Sallust, bring out dis gintleman
boss 1 and Plutarch, go fetch de saddle-bag down.'

*' I led bis boss by where de dogs was, and, sais ], * 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

frass, and it's lucky I did, for as J dodged he fetched a back handed
low at me wid bis 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
dli plantation. I scorn to do such a nasty, dirty, mean aotioi^ and

A DISH OF CLAMB.

28^

! atn't BO
jrn out ob
nd see de
;ves, cause

[ley dat is
lancipated
to labor 1*
dem pen-
asty, dirty
me, and I
nd I want

der de sun
jd by wild
18 goes.'
all equal;

le word ob
itations of
tn his great
dn't let no
ter go dere.
in dis here
knd gone to
sais I, * me
t whatsom-
ho tice nig-
lam you as
t had better
s gintleman

assa, I can't
1 me about
kt are a fac ;
ober on de
)ack handed
head off, if

t so hot, and

e rogue dan

head off ob
I aotioi^, and

you 80 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 dul-
gent altogether.'
, " ' I didn't mean that. Sorrow,' she said, 'I don't mean stealin.'
« ' Well, Missus, ' Ts glad to hear dat, if you will let me ab per-
mission den, I will drink you good helf.'

" ' 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'
bold, jist like dis bottle. — * >^ ^^ ; .<<)*; i?##^^^ •'

" ' Why,' said she, (and she smiled, and I knowed she was good-
natured,) ' dere is nuttin 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 encourag-
ing 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 ablution-
istf dat is just de way dey talk. Dey call us colored breddren
when dey tice us off from home, and den dey call us black rascals
and beasts. I wish 1 was to home agin, Yankees treat dere col-
ored breddren like dogs, dat is a fact; but he is excellent man,
Massa Captain, berry good man, and though I don't believe it's a
possible ting Joy is in hebben, 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 olorife-
rous rum dat way ; just let me drink it first, and den I will stand,
and you may break the 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 lamed it." . . . . , . v , ■ ^

• f

IIB^il

f93

▲ DISH or OLA1C0.

" < 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 the sofk. " •' -'-■'^■^

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

" ' What,' said she, and she raised herself up ofTob de pillar, and
she larfed and rolled ober and ober, and tosticated about almost in
B conniption fit. * You old goose,' said she, * you onaooountable
fool,' and den she larfed and rolled ober again, I tought she would
a tumbled off on de floor ; * do go way, you is too roolish to talk
to, but turn my pillar again. Sorrow,' said she, * is I showin of my
ankles,' said she, *rollin about so like mad V ''■^'^'- "■ '^^ -''^

" * 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 the 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 nigga 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 bum 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 niggara.'

" ' 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 agoin 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 berry genteel to travel wid
-one's own cook ; but it is werry ongenteel when de cook can't do
nuflin super-superior ; for bad cooks is plenty ebery where widout
travellin wid em. It brings disgrace.' .^-^--f '

" ' Exactly, Missus,' sais I, * when you and me was up to de pre-
sident's plantation, his cook was makm 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 dtd ; and he nebber 'pared de gredients
de day afore, as he had aughtea to do. It was nuflin but stick jaw

▲ DIBB OF OLAJia.

208

urney all
s WHS, de
like cold

miliar, and
almost in
countable
she would
ih to talk
nrinofmy

larth does
ees.'

Zeno was
sd to visit
-stupid as
>en and he
ged, Aunt
ught we'd
le bed wid
was most
eye stared
He was so
kfber dat he
dangerous,
niggars.*

)rd.* -

Missus.'"
tell us how
to chat all

I he.
travel wid
ok can't do
bere widout

p to de pre-
3 was. Now
s, he actilly
) de crumbs
de gredients
ut 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 very 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 Lun 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
travelin, 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 dogwood blossoms, and ears open like
maokarel.'

" * What you got for dinner to-day V she say — jist as you say,
Massa. Well, I tell her all ober, as I tells you, numeratln all I
had. Den she picked out what she wanted, and mong dem I reck-
lect 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,' says I, ' talkin of clams, minds me of chickens.'

"'What on airth do you mean,' says she, *you blockhead; Jt
might as well mind you of tunder.'

" ' Well, Missus,' says I, ' now sometimes one ting does mind me
of anoder ting dat way ; I nebber sees you, Missus, but what you
mind me ob d > beautiful white lily, and dat agin ob de white rose
dat hab de lubiy 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 J git you the receipt Miss
Phillis and I ab cyphered out, how to preserva oluckeos ?"

■te

\ \

294

A DIBH OF OLAM8.

* '* ' 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
nlggars like so many minks. Now, Missus, sposen 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 fattenen of em, and gibs no more
arter all dan de vally of food and tendin, which is all dey gets 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 nufiin like it. It makes de down fly like a feather
bed. It makes niggers 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 a nigger, who
can aim 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 its 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 sonle oder punishment,' she said.

" ' I ab it,' sais I, ' Missus ! Oh Lord a massy. Missus ! oh dear,
!N^ssus ! 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 niggers, dan to tickle dere
hide. I make him go to church reglar, den, to show hisself and his
bald pate. Yah, yah, yah !' "

" Come, Sorrow," I said, " I am tired of all this foolery ; either
tell me how you propose to cook the clams, or substitute some-
thing else in their place."

" Well Massa," he said, " I will ; but railly now, when I gits
talkin' bout my dear ole Missus, pears to me as if my tongue
would run for ebber. Dis is de last voyage I ebber make in a
fishin' craft. I is used to de first society, and always moved round
wid ladies and gentlemen what had finement in em. Well, Massa,
now I comes to de clams. First of all, you must dig de clams.
Now dere is great art in diggin' clams.

" Where you see little hole like wormhole, dere is de clam. He
breathe up tru dat, and suck in his drink like sherry-cobbler
through a straw. Whar dere is no little air holes, dere is no clam,
(Hat are a && Now, Massa, can you tell who is de most knowin*

▲ DIBH OF 0LAH8

sumthen

sd by our
md I pass
, and den
Ban fowls,
no more
gets now,
ien we ab
arket and
must try
a feather
ished tree
oor white
bein' no
gger, who
nonth. I
uss to de
rates to
s pass dis

'only no

! oh dear,
er button.
i keep his
He can't
i to grow,'
e ob him.
ickle dere
>lf and his

y ; either
ite some-

len I gits
ly tongue
lake in a
ed round
II, Massa,
de clams.

am. He

y-cobbler

no clam,

i knowin*

e1am>diggcr In de worl ? De gull is, Massa ; and he eat his clam
raw, as some folks who don't know nufHn ^ out cookin\eat oysters.
He take up de clam ebber so far in de air, and let him fall right on
de rock, which break shell for him, and down he goes and pounces
on him like a duck on a June bug. Sometimes clam catch him by
de toe though, and hold on like grim death to a dead nigger, and
away goes bird screamin and yellin, and clam stickia to him like
burr to a bosses tail. Oh, geehillikin, what fun it is. And all de
oder gulls larf at him like any ting ; dat comes o' seezin' him by
de mout instead ob de scruff ob de neck. ^ - r

" Well, when you git clam nuff, den you must wash em, and dat
is more trouble dan dey is worth; for dey is werry gritty
naturally, like buckwheat dat is trashed in de field — takes two or
tr^e waters, and salt is better dan fresh, cause you see fresh water
make him sick. Well now, Massa, de question is, what will you
ab ; clam soup, clam sweetbread, clam pie, clam fritter, or b^e
claml"

" Which do you tink best. Sorrow 1" sais I.

" Well, Massa, dey is all good in dere way ; Missus used to
fection baked clams mighty well ; but we can't do dem so tip top
at sea ; clam sweetbread, she said, was better den what is made ob
oysters, and as to clam soup, dat pends on de cook. Now, Massa,
when Missus and me went to wisit de president's plantation, I see
his cook, Mr. ' Sallust, didn't know nuffin bout 'parin de soup.
What you tink he did, Massa? stead ob poundin de clams in a
mortar fust, he jist cut em in quarters and puts em in dat way. I
nebber see such ignorance since I was raised. He made de soup
ob water, and actilly put some salt in it ; when it was sarved up—
it was rediculous disgraceful — he left dem pieces in de tureen, and
dey was like leather. Missus said to me,

" * Sorrow,' sais she, ' 1 shall starve here ; dem military men
know nuffin, but bout horses, dogs, and wine; but dey ain't
delicate no way in dere tastes, and yet to hear em talk, you'd be
most afeered to offer em anyting, you'd tink dey was de debbel
and all.' "

" Did she use those words, Sorrow ?"

"Well, not zactly," he said, scratching his head, "dey was
dicksionary words and werry fine, for she had great finement bout
her ; but dat was de meanin ob em.

" ' Now, Sorrow,' she said, ♦ tell me de trut, wasn't dat soup
now made ob water V

" ♦ Yes, Missus, it was,' said I, " I seed it wid my own eyes.'

" * I taut so,' she said, ' why dat cook aint fit to tend a bear trap,
and bait it wid sheep's innerds.'

" Did she use those words ?"

^ Why laws a massy, Massa! I can't swear to de identical

! !1

399

▲ DX8B OF OLMUB.

-words ; how can I? but m I was a sayin, dere was fmement in em,
werry long, werry crooked, and werry pretty, but dat was all de

sense ob em."

" ' Now, Sorrow,' said she, ' he ought to ab used milk ; all fisb

soups ought to be made o' milk, and den tickened wid flour.'
n i yf^j i„ course, Missus,' sius I, ' dat k de way you and

always like it.'

*' * It has made me quite iU,' said she.

*" So it ab nearly killed me. Missus,' sais I, puttin ray hand oi>
my stomachy ' 1 ab such a pain doiifn here, i tink sometimies I shall
die.'

" * Well, you look Ul, Unde Sorrow,' she said, and she wont to
her dressin'-case, and took a liul^ small bottle (covered ober wid
printed words^ ^ take some o' dis,' said she, and she poured me out
bout dis much (filling his glass again), ' take dat, it will do you
good.'

" ' Is it berry bad to swaller,' sais I, ^ Missus^ I is moet afeard it
will spile the dement of my taste-.'

" * Try it,' says she, and 1 shut to my eyes^ and made awful long
face, and swallowed it jist dis way.

*^ ' By jolly,' says I, ^ Missus, but dat is grand. What is dat t'

" * Clone water,' said she,

" * Oh, Missus,' says I, ' dat is plagi^ trong water^ dat ttre a fac^
and bery nice flavored, i wish in my heart we had. a nice spring
ob it to home. Wouldn't it bp grand, for dis is a bery tMrsty
nigga, dat are a fac. Clam pi», Massa,. is first chop, my Missus
ambitioned it some ponkins.'

" Well, how do you make it "?"

" Dere is seberal ways, Ma^sa. Sometime we used one way,
and sometime anoder. I do believe Missus could do it fifty ways."

" Fifty ways," said I ; *'now, Soarrow, how can you lie that way.
I shall begin to think at lasrt, you never had a mistress at all."

" Fifly ways I Well, M^ssa, goodness gracious me ! You isn't
goin to tie me down to swear to figures now, any more nor identi-
cal words, is you ? 1 ab no manner o' doubt she could fifty ways,
but she only used eight or ten virays which she said was de best,
First dere is de dam bake."

" Well, I know that," sais I, " go on to the dam pie."

" What is it V* said the Doctor, " for I should like to know how
they are prepared."

" This," said I, " is the most approved mode. A cavity is dug
in the earth, about eighteen inches deep, which is lined with round
stones. On this a fire is made ^ and when the stones are sufficiently
heated, a bushel or more of clams (according to the number of per-
sons who are to partake of the feast) is thrown upon them. On
this if put a layer of rock-weed, gathered from the^ beach, and over

▲ DIBH OF OLAMft.

a9r

t in eiQ^
B all de

all fish

•

and me

land on
) I shall

wont to

ber wid

me out

do you

ifeard it

ful long

»datt'

rea&cv
) spring

t&rsty
Missus

►ne way,
r vrays."
bat way.
11." ^
fou isn't
r identi-
y ways,
le best»

ow how

' is dug
% round
ficiently
p of per-
m. On

this a second layer of sea-weed. This prevents the escape of the
steam, and preserves the sweetness of the fish. Clams baked in
this manner, are preferred to those cooked in the usual way in the
kitchen. On one occasion, that of a grand political mass-meeting
in favor of General Harrison, on the '*th of July, 1840, nearly
10,000 persons assembled in Rhode Island, for whom a clam-bake
and chowder was prepared. This was probably the greatest feast
of the kind that ever took place in New England."

" Zactly," said Sorrow, " den dere is anoder way."

" I won't hear it," said I, " stiver now, make the pie any way you
like."

" Massa," said he, " eber since poor Missus died from eaten hogs
wid dere heads on, I feel kinder faint when I sees clams ; I hab
neber swallowed one since, and neber will. De parfume gits into
my stomach, as it did when de General's cook used water instead
of milk in his soup. I don't spose you ab any clone-water, but if
you will let me take jist a tumolerfuU ob dis, I tink it would make
me survive a little," and without waiting for leave, he helped him-
self to a bumper. " Now, Massa," he said, " I show you what
cookin is, I know," and making a scrape of his leg, he left the
cabin.

" Doctor," said I, " I am glad you have seen this specimen of a
southern negro. He is a fair sample of a servant in the houses of
our great planters. Cheerful, grateful, and contented, they are bet-
ter off and happier than any portion of the same race I have met
with in any part of the world. They have a quick perception of
humor, a sort of instinctive knowledge of character, arid great cun-
ning, but their reasoning powers are very limited. Their appetites
are gross, and their constitutional indolence such, that they prefer
enduring any suffering and privation to regular habits of industry.

" Slavery in the abstract is a thing that nobody approves of, or
attempts to justify. We all consider it an evil — but unhappily it
was entailed upon us by our forefathers, and has now grown to be
one of such magnitude that it is difficult to know how to deal with
it — and this difficulty is much increased by the irritation which has
grown out of the unskilful and unjustifiable conduct of abolitionists.
The grossest exaggerations have been circulated, as to the conduct
and treatment of our slaves, by persons who either did not know
what they were talking about, or who have wilfully perverted facts.
The devil we have painted black, and the negro received the same
color from the hand of his Maker. It only remained to represent
the planter as of a deeper dye than either. This picture, however,
wanted effect, and latterly lights and shades have been judiciously
introduced, by mingling with these groups, eastern abolitionists^
white overseers, and English noblemen, and ladies of rank. It made
a clevexLcaricftture — had h^&bA iuu — has. beeo^auj^ssded. by other
13*

'Wi

288

THB DLVIL B HOLE

follies and extravagancies, and is now nearly forgotten. The social
evil still remains and ever wilj, while ignorant zeal, blind bigotry,
hypocrisy and politics, demand to have the exclusive treatment of
it. The planter has rights, as well as the slave, and the claims of
both must be well weighed and considered, before any dispassion*
ate judgment can be formed.

" In the meantime invective and misrepresentation, by irritating
the public, disqualify it for the deliberate exercise of its functions.
If the slaves have to mourn over the want of freedom, the planters
may lament the want of truth in their opponents ; and it must be
admitted, that the}' have submitted to the atrocious calunmies that
have been so liberally heaped upon them of late years, with a con-
tempt that is the best refutation of falsehood, or a meekness and
forbearance that contrast very favorably with the violence and fury
of their adversaries."

My object, however, Squire, is, not to write a lecture on eman-
cipation, but to give you a receipt for cooking " a dish of claff'.s."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DEVIL'S HOLE; OR, FISH AND FLESH.

" Sorrow," said the Doctor, " seems to me to consider women,
from the way he flatters his mistress, as if she was not unlike the
grupers at Bermuda. There is a natural fishpond there near Flats
Village, in which there is a great lot of these critters, which are
about the size of the cod. They will rise to the surface, and
approach the bank for you to tickle their sides, which seem to
afford them particular delight."

" It is what you would call, I suppose, practical soft sawdering."

" But it is an operation of which the rest are exceedingly jealous,
and while you are thus amusing one of them, you must take care
others do not feel offended, and make a dash at your hngers. With
true feminine jealousy, too, they change color when excited, for
envy seems to pervade all animate nature."

i" It's called the Devil's Hole where they are, aint it? " sais I.

" Yes," said he, " it is, and it is situated not far from Moore's
favorite tree, under whose shade he used to recline while writing
his poetry, at a time when his deputy was equally idle, and instead
of keeping his accounts, kept his money. Bermuda is a fatal place
to poets. Moore lost his purse there, and Waller his favorite ring ;
the latter has been jreoently found, the former was never recoyered*

OB, tl§n AND FLESH.

299

le social
bigotry,
nent of
aims of
passion*

rritating
mctions.
planters
nust be
lies that
h a con-
ess and
a,nd fury

n eman-
5lan".s."

:sH.

women,
ilike the
sar Flats
hich are
ace, and
seem to

dering."
jealous,
ake care
3. With
ited, for

sais I.
Moore's
i writing
[ instead
tal place
ite ring ;
eoyered.

In one thing these two celehrated authors greatly resembled each
other, they both fawned and flftttcred on the great."

" Yes," said Cutler, *' fliid both have met their reward. Every-
body regrets that anythhig wan known of either, but his poetry — ^*

" Well," sais I, " I am glfld I am not an Englishman, or as true
as the world, a chap like Lord John Russell would ruin me for
ever. I am not a poet, and can't write poetry, but I am a Clock-
maker, and write comfnon iense. Now, a biographer like that
man, that knows as little of on© as he does of the other, would ruin
me for everlastingly, U ftint pleasant to have such a burr as that
stick on to your tail, especiiilly if you have no comb to get it off,
is it 1 A politician id like a bee ; he travels a zig zag course every
which way, turnin first to the right and then to the left, now makin
a dive at the wild honeysuckle, and then at the sweet briar ; now
at the buckwheat blowom, and then at the rose ; he is here, and
there, and everywhere } you don't know where the plague to find
him ; he courts all and is constant to none. But when his point is
gained and he has wooed and deceived all, attained his object, and
his bag is filled, he then shows plain enough, what he was after all
the time. He returns as straignt as a chalk line, or as we say, as
the crow flies to his home, ftnd neither looks to the right or to the
left, or knows or cares (or any of them, who contributed to his suc-
cess. His object is to enrieh himself and make a family name. A
politician therefore is the last man in the world to write a biogra-
phy. Having a kind of sneakin regard for a winding wavy way
himself, he sees more beauty in the In and out line of a Varginny
fence, than the stilf straight formal post and rail one of New Eng-
land. As long as a partfean crlttur is a thorn in the flesh of the
adverse party, he don't eare whether he is Jew or Gentile. He
overlooks little pecadilloes, as he calls the worst stories, and thinks
everybody else will be just as indulgent as himself. He uses
romanists, dissenters, republieans, and evangelicals at his own
great log-rolling* frolllcks, and rolls for them in return.

* Loo-ROLLmo. — In thfl lumlier MgiotiM of Maine, it is customaiy for men
of different logging camp* to appoint day« for helping each other in rolling
the logs to the river altar thiy are felted and trimmed, this rolling being
about the hardest work ineldent to the business. Thus the men of three or
four different camps will unite, nay on Monday, to roll for camp No. 1, on
Tuesday, for camp No. 3, on Wednesday, for camp No. 3, and so on through
the whole number of campi within eonvenient distance of each other. The
term has been adopted in legiilatlon to signify a little system of mutual co-
operation. For instance, a member from Bt. Lawrence has a pet bill for a
plank-road which he wantM puMhed through. He accordingly makes a bargain
with a member from Onondaga, who i« coaxing along a charter for a bank, by
which St. Lawrence agrees to vote for Onondaga's bank if Onondaga will vote
St. Lawrence's plank-road, This i« legislative log-rolling, and there is abun-
dance of it carried on at Albany every winter. Generally speaking, the subject
of the log-rolling is some merely loeal project, interesting only to the people of

»y

800

THE DETIL'S HOLE^

"Who the plague haint done something, said something, of
thought something he is sorry for, and prays may be forgot and
forgiven ; big brag as I am, I know I can't say I haven't over and
over again offended. Well, if it's the par* of a friend to go and
rake all these things trp, and expose em to the public, and if it's
agreeable to my wife, sposen I had one, to have em published
because the stained paper will sell, all I can sais is, I msh he had
shown his regard II»r roe, by ronning away with my wife, and
letting me alone. It's astonishing how many friends Moore's dis-
loyalty made him. A seditious song or a treasonable speech finds
more favor with some people m the old country than building a
church, that's a &ct, Howsomever, I think I am sale from him,
for first I am a Yankee, secondly I aint married, thirdly I am a
Clockmaker, and fourthly my bi(^aphy Is written by myself in»
my book, fifthly I write no letters I can help, and n^ver answer
one except on business,

"This is a hint father gave me: *9ani,* said he, ^ never talk to a
woman, for others may Bear you j only whisper to her, and never
write to her, or your own letters may rise up in judgment against
you, some day or another. Many a man, afore now, has had reason
to wish he had never seen a pen in his liie ;;' so I aint afeard, there-
fore, that he can write himself up or me down, and make me look
Skuy woniky, no how he can fix it. If he does, \ve will deekre war
again England, and blow the little darned thing out of the map of
Europe, for it aint much bigger than the little island Cronstadt is
built on, after all, is it ? It's just a little dot, and nothin more, dad
fetch my buttons if it is,

" But to go back to the grnpers and the devil's hole } I have been
there myself and seen it, Doctor," sais J, " but there is other fish
besides these in it ; there is the parrot-fish^ and they are like the
feminine gender, too ', if the grnpers are fond of being tickled, par-
rots are fond of hearing their own voices. Then, there is the
angel-fish, they have fins, like wings, of a pale blue color ; but they
must be fallen angels to be in such a place as that h^^e, too, musn't
they 1 and yet they are handsome even now. Gracious ! what
pnust they have been before the fall ? and how many humans ha»
beauty caused to fall. Doctor, hasn't it *? and how many there are
that the sound of that old song, ' My lace is my fortune, sir, she
said,' would make their hearts swell till they would almost burst.

" Well, then there is another fish there, and those Mudians sar-
must have a good deal of fun in them, to make sue

tainly :

capital

a certain district ; but gometimes there ia party Iog-r(4Iing^ yrheie the Whigs,
for instance, will come to an understanding with tM Democrats that the former
shall not oppose a certain democratic measure merely on party grounds, pro-
vided the Democrats will be equally tender to some Whig measure in return. —
^ Inman. , ^

OB, FISH AKD FLESH.

801

got and
ver and
1 go and
id if it's
ublished
be had
ife, and
re's dis-
cb finds
ildirrg a
fin him,
I am a
yself in
answer

rftlk to 3
1 never
against
\ reason
cl, there-
me look
lare war
map of
stadt i9
ore, dad

nrebeen
her fish
like th»
led, par-
s is the
Hit they
, musn't
> ! what
ans has
lere are
sir, she
burst,
ms sar-
I capital

? Whigs,
>e fbnner
ids, pro-
:etum. —

and comical assortment of queer pnes for that pond. There is the
lawyer-fish — can anything under the sun be more appropriate than
the devil's hole for a lawyer. What a nice place for him to hang
out his shingle in, aint it ? it's no wonder his old friend, the land
lord, finds him an oflice in it rent free, is it % What mischief he
must brood there ; bringing actions of slander against the foolish
parrot-fish that will let their tongues run, ticklin the grupers, and
while they are smirking and smiling, devour their food, and prose*
cute the fallen angels for violating the Maine law and disturbing the
peace. The devil's hole, like Westminster Hall, is a dangerous
place for a fellow of substance to get into, 1 can tell you j the way
they fleece him is a caution to sinners.

" !My dog fell into that fish-pond, and they nearly fixed his flint
before I got him out, I tell you ; his coat was almost stripped off
when I rescued him."

"Why, Mr. Slick," said the Doctor, " what in the world took
you to Bermuda V

"Why," sais I, "I had heard a great deal about it. It is a
beautiful spot, and very healthy. It is all that has ever been said
or sung of it, and more too, and that's sayin a great deal, for most*
celebrated places disappoint you ; you expect too much, and few
crack parts of the world come up to the idea you form of them
beforehand. Well, I went down there to see if there was anything
to be done in the way of business, but it was too small a field for
me, although I made a spec that paid me very well, too. There is
a passage through the reefs there, and it's not every pilot knows it,
but there was a manuscript chart of it made by a captain of a
tradin vessel. When he died his widow offered it to the govern-
ment, but they hummed and hawed about the price, and was for
gitting it for half nothing, as they always do. So what does I do
but just steps in and buys it ; for in war time it is of the greatest
importance to know this passage ; and I sold it to our navy board,
and I think if ever we are at loggerheads with the British, we shall
astonish the weak nerves of the folks at the summer islands, some
fine day.

"I had a charming visit. There are some magnificent caves
there, and in that climate they are grand places, I do assure you.
I never saw anything so beautiful. The ceiling is covered with
splendiferous sparry-like icicles, or chandelier drops. What do you
call that word. Doctor 1"

" Stalactites.."

" Exactly, that's it, glorious stalactites reaching to the bottom
and forming fluted pillars. In one of those oaves where the water
runs, the Admiral floored over the bottom, and gave a ball in it,
and it was the most Arabian Night's entertainment kind of thing
that I ever saw. It looked like & diamond hall, and didn't it show

- • ■

i %

'4 '

302

THE devil's hole;

off the Mudian galls to advantage, lick ! I guess it did, for they
are the handsomest Creoles in all creation. There is more sub-
stance in *em than in the tropical ladies. I don't mean worldly
(though that ain't to be sneezed at, neither, by them that ain't got
none themselves.) When the people used to build small clippers
there for the West India trade, cedar was very valuable, and a
gall's fortune was reckoned, not by pounds, but by so many cedars.
Now it is banana trees. But, dear me, somehow or another we
have drifted away down to Bermuda, we must stretch back again
to the Nova Scotian coast east of Chesencock, or, like Jerry
Boudrot, we shall be out of sight of land, and lost at sea."

On going up on the deck, my attention was naturally attracted
to iny new purchase, the Canadian horse.

" To my mind," said the Doctor, " Jerry's knee action does not
merit the extravagant praise you bestowed upon it. It is not high
enough to please me."

" There you are wrong," sais I ; " that's the mistake most people
make. It is not the height of the action, but the nature of it, that
is to be regarded. A high stepping horse pleases the eye more
than the judgment. He seems to go faster than he does. There
is not only power wasted in it, but it injures the foot. My idea is
this : you may compare a man to a man, and a woman to a woman,
for the two, including young and old, make the world. You see
more of them, and know more about *em, than horses, for you have
your own structure to examine and compare them by, and can talk
to them, and if they are of the feminine gender, hear their own
account of themselves. They can speak, for they were not behind
the door when tongues were given out, I can tell you. The range
of your experience is larger, for you are always with them, but
how few bosses does a man own in his life. How few he examines,
and how little he knows about other folks beasts. They don't live
with you, you only see them when you mount, drive, or visit the
stable. They have separate houses of their own, and pretty build-
ings they are, too, in general, containin about as much space for
sleepin as a berth on board a ship, and about as much ventilation,
too, and the poor critters get about as little exercise as passengers,
and are just about worth as much as they are when they land, for
a day's hard tramp. Poor critters, they have to be on their taps
most all the time.* The Arab and the Canadian have the best
horses, not only because they have the best breed, but because one
has no stalls, and t'other has no stable treatment.

" Now in judging of a horse's action, I compare him not with
other horses, but with animals of a different species. Did you
ever know a fox stumble, or a cat make a false step 1 I guess not ;

On their feet.

OB, FISH AMD FLBBH.

808

but haven't you seen a bear, when chased and tired, go head-over-
heels. A dog, in a general way, is a sure-footed critter ; but he
trips now and then, and if he was as big as a horse, would throw
his rider sometimes. Now then I took to these animals, and I find
there are two actions to be combined, the knee and the foot action.
The fox and the cat bend the knee easy and suply, bit don't arch
'em : and though they go near the ground, they don't trip. I take
that then as a sort of standard. I like my beast, especially if he is
for the saddle, to be said to trot like a fox. Now, if he lifts too
high, you see, he describes half a circle, and don't go ahead as he
ought, and then he pounds his frog into a sort of mortar at every
step, for the horny shell of a foot is just like one. Well then, if
he sends his fore leg away out in front, and his hind leg away out
behind like a hen scratchin' gravel, he moves more like an ox than
anything else, and hainte sufficient power to fetch them home quick
enough for fast movement. Then the foot action is a great point :
I looked at this critter's tracks on the pasture and asked myself,
does he cut turf, or squash it flat 1 If he cuts it as a gardener does
weeds with his spaa*. , then good bye, Mr. Jerry ; you won't suit
me ; it's very well to dance on your toes, but it don't convene to
travel on '«»i, or you're apt to make somersets.

"Now, a neck is a valuable thing. We have two legs, two
eyes, two hands, two ears, two nostrils, and so on ; but we have
only one neck, which makes it so easy to hang a fellow, or to break
it by a chuck from your saddle ; and besides, we can't mend it, as
we do a leg or an arm. When it's broken, it's done for ; and what
use is it if it's insured 1 The money don't go to you, but to your
heirs, and half the time they wouldn't cry, except for decency' sake,
if you did break it. Indeed, I knew a great man once, who got his
neck broke, and all his friends said, for his own reputation it was a
pity he hadn't broke it ten years sooner. The Lord save me from
such friends, I say. Fact is, a broken neck is only a nine days'
wonder, after all, and is soon forgotten.

" Now, the fox has the right knee action, and the leg is ' thar.' In
the real knee movement there is a peculiar spring that must be seen
to be known and valued, words don't give you the idea of it. It's
like the wire end of a pair of gallusses — oh, it's charming. It'a
down and off in a jiffy, like a gall's finger on a piano, when she is
doin chromatic runs. I'act is, if I am walkin out and see a critter
with it, I have to stop and stare ; and Doctor, I will tell you a
queer thing. Halt and look at a splendid movin hoss, and the rider
is pleased ; he thinks half the admiration is for him as rider and
owner, and tother half for his trotter. The gony's delighted, chi-
rups his beast, gives him a sly touch up with the off heel, and shews
him off to advantage. But stop and look at a woman, and she is
AS mad M a hMter. She don't oare how much you look at her aa

> >i

I . i

THB devil's hole;

long M you don't stand still or turn your head round. She
wouldn't mind slackin her pace if you only attended to that.

" Now the fox has that special springy movement I speak of,
and he puts his foot down flat ; he bends the grass rather to him
than flrom him if anything, but most common^ crumples it flat ;
but you never see it inclinin in the line of the course he is runnin
—never. Fact is, they never get a hoist, and that is a very curl*
ous word, it has a very diflerent meanin at sea from what it has on
land. In one case it means to haul up, in the other to fall down.
The term ' look out,' is just the same.

" A canal boat was once passing through a narrow lock on the
Erie line, and the captain hailed the passengers and said, ' Look
out.' Well, a Frenchman thinking something strange was to be
seen, popt his head out and it was cut ofl* in a uiinute. * Oh, mon
dieu t said his comrade, ' dat is a very striking lesson in English.
On land look out means open de window and see what you will
see. On board canal boats it means haul your head in, and don't
look at nothin.'

*' Well, the worst hoist that I ever had was from a very high
aotioned mare ; the down foot slipped, and tother was too high to be
back in time for her to recover, and over both of us went kerlash
in the mud. I was skeered more about her than myself, lest she
should git the skin of her knee cut, for to a knowing one's eye that's
an awful blemish. It's a long story to tell how such a blemish
wam't the boss's fault, for I'd rather praise than apologize for a
critter any time. And there is one thing few people knows : Let
the cut come which way it will the animal is never so safe afterwards,
Natwi's bandagty the shiny is severed^ and that leg is the weakest,

^* Well, as I was a sayin, Doctor, there is the knee action and
the foot action, and then there is a third thing. The leg must be
just thar,^^

" Where ?" said the Doctor.

"Thar," said I, " there is only one place for that, and that is
* thar,' well forward at the shoulder point, and not where it most
commonly is, too much under the body — for if it's too far back he
stumbles, or too forward he can't pick chips quick stick.' Doctor,
I am a borin of you, but the fact is, when 1 get agoin * talkin boss,'
1 never know where to stop. How much better tempered they are
than half the women in the world, ain't they ? and I don't mean to
undervally the dear critters neither by no manner of means, and
how much more sense they have than half the men either, after all
their cracking and bragging. How grateful they are for kindness,
how attached to you they get. How willin they are to race like
dry dust in a thunder squall, till they die for you. I do love them,
that is a fact, and when I see a feller a ill-usin of one of 'em, it
IOaImi meieel as arosa as two crooked gate-posts 1 tell you.

OB, FIBB AKD FLB8H.

805

]. She

•

•eak of,
to him
it flat;
\ runnin
ry curi-
; has on
1 down.

on the
♦Look
to be
.., mon
English.
1 will
don't

s
)h,

ry high
;h to be
kerlash
lest she
fe that's
blemish
ze for a
wa : Let
erwards.

bion and
[uust be

. that is
I it most
back he
Doctor,
in boss,'
they are
mean to
lans, and
after all
cindness,
race like
ve them,
>f 'em, it
1.

^ Indeed, a man that don't love a boss is no man at all. I don*t
think he can be religious. A boss makes a man humane and ten-
der hearted, teaches him to feel for others, to share his food, and
be unselfish, to anticipate wants and supply them, to be gentle and
patient. Then the boss improves him otherwise. He makes him
rise early, attend to meal hours, and to be cleanly. He softens
and improves the heart. Who is there that ever went into a sta-
ble of a morning, and his crittur whinnered to him and played his
ears back and forward, and turned his head aflectionately to him,
and lifted his fore feet short and moved his tail, and tried all he
could to express his delight, and say ' morning to you, master,' or
when he went up to the manger and patted his neck, and the lovin
crittur rubbed his head agin him in return, that didn't think within
himself, well, after all, the boss is a noble crittur. 1 do love him.
Is it nothin to make a man love at all 1 How many fellers get
more kicks than coppers in their life— have no home, nobody to
love them and nobody to love, in whose breast all the aifections are
pent up until they get unwholesome and want ventilation. Is it
nothin to such an unfortunate crittur to be made a stable help. Why
it elevates him in the scale of humanity. He discovers at last he
has a head to think and a heart to feel. He is a new man. Hosses
warn't given to us. Doctor, to ride steeple-chases, or run races, or
brutify a man, but to add new powers, and lend new speed to him
He was destined for nobler uses.

" Is it any wonder that a man that has owned old Clay likes to
talk boss 1 I guess not. If I was a gall, I wouldn't have nothin
to say to a man that didn't love a boss, and know all about him. I
wouldn't touch him with a pair of tongs. I'd scorn him as I would
a nigger. Sportsmen breed pheasants to kill, and amature hunts-
men shoot deer for the pleasure of the slaughter. The angler hooks
salmon for the cruel delight he has in witnessing the strength of
their dying struggles. The black-leg gentleman runs his boss agin
time, and wins the race, and kills his noble steed, and sometimes
loses both money and boss ; I wish to gracious he always did ; but
the rale hossman, Doctor, is a rale wian, every inch of him, stock,
lock, and barrel."

" Massa," said Sorrow, who stood listenin to me as I was warmin
on the subject. " Massa, dis hoss will be no manner of remagina^
ble use under de blessed light ob de sun."

" Why, Sorrow 1"

" Cause, Massa, he don't understand one word of English, and
de French he knows, no libbin soul can understand but a Cheesen-
cooker. Yah, yah, yah ! J)qj called him a ' shovely and his tail a
' queue.^ "

" What a goose you are. Sorrow," sais I.

" Fao, Massa," he said, " fac I do ressure you, and dey called de

"VI

806

THB devil's hole;

• '

little pl^y Doctor fell over, * a coach/ Dod drat my hide if they
didn't, yah, yah, yah !"

"The English ought to import, Doctor," sais I, " some of these
into their country, for as to rid in and drivin, there is nothing lilte
them. But catch Britishers admitting there is anything good in
Canada, but the office of Governor-General, the military commands,
and other pieces of patronage, which they keep to themselves, and
then they say they have nothing left. Ah me ! times is altered, as
Elgin knows. The pillory and the peerage have changed places.
Once, a man who did wrong was first elevated, and then pelted. A
peer is now assailed with eggs, and then exalted."

" Palman qui meruit ferat" said the Doctor.

" is that the Latin for how many hands high the horse is ?" sais
I. " Well, on an average, say fifteen, perhaps oftener less than
more. It's the old Norman horse of two centuries ago, a com-
pound of the Flemish stock and the Barb introduced into the Low
Countries by the Spaniards. Havin been transported to Canada
at that early period, it has remained unchanged, and now may be
called a distinct breed, differing widely in many respects from those
found at the present day in the locations from which they originally
came. But look at the amazin strength of his hip, look at the lines,
and anatomical formation (as you would say) of his frame, which
fit him for both a saddle and a gig hoss. Look at his chest, not
too wide to make him paddle in his gait, nor too narrow to limit
his wind. Observe all the points of strength. Do you see the
bone below the knee, and the freedom of the cord there. Do you
mark the eye and head of the Barb. Twig the shoulder, the iden-
tical medium for a horse of all work, and the enormous power to
shove him ahead. This fellow is a picture, and I am glad they
have not mutilated or broken him. He is just the boss I have been
looking for, for our folks go in to the handle for fast trotters, and
drive so much, and ride so little, it aint easy to get the right saddle
beast in our State. The Cape Breton pony is of the same breed,
though poor feed, exposure to the weather, and rough usage, has
caused him to dwindle in size ; but they are the toughest, hardiest,
strongest, and most serviceable of their inches, I know anywhere."

I always feel scared when I git on the subject of bosses, for fear
I should ear-wig people, so I stopt short ; " and," sais I, " Doctor,
I think I have done pretty well with the talking tacks, spose you
give me some of your experience in the trapping line, you must
have had some strange adventures in your time." »

" Well, I have," said he, " but I have listened with pleasure to
you, for although I am not experienced in horses, performing most
of my journeys on foot, I see you know what you are talking
about, for I am familiar with the anatomy of the horse. My road
Is the trackless forest, and I am more at home there than iu a city.

OB, FIBH AITD FLB8H.

80f

i if they

of these
ling like
good in
iimands,
ves, and
tered, as
. places.
Ited. A

is?" sais
ess than

a com-
the Low
3 Canada

may be
om those
)rigina]ly
the lines,
le, which
;hest, not
to limit

see the

Do you
the iden-
power to
jlad they
lave been
tters, and
;ht saddle
le breed,
isage, has
, hardiest,
ywhere."
3, for fear
" Doctor,
pose you
roM must

easure to
ling most
[-e talking
My road
in a city.

Like you I am fond of nature, but unlike you I know little of
human nature, and ' rould rather listen to your experience than
undergo the labor ti acquiring it. Man is an artificial animal, but
all the inhabitants of the forest are natural. The study of their
habits, propensities, and instincts is very interesting, and in this
country the only one that is formidable, is the bear, for he is not
only strong and courageous, but he has the power to climb trees,
which no other animal will attempt in pursuit of man, in Nova
Scotia. The bear, therefore, is an ugly customer, particularly the
female, when she has her young cubs about her, and a man requires
to have his wits about him, when she turns the table on him and
hunts him. But you know these things as well as I do, and to tell
you the truth, there is little or nothing that is new to be said on
the subject ; one bear hunt is like another. The interest of these
things is not so much in their incidents or accidents, as in the mode
of telling them."

" That's a fact," sais I, " Doctor. But what do you suppose was
the object Providence had in view in filling the world with beasts
of prey 1 The east has its lions and tigers, its boa-constrictors and
anacondas ; the south its panthers and catamounts ; the north its
bears and wolves ; and the west its crocodiles and rattle-snakes.
We read that dominion was given over the birds of the air, the
fish of the sea, and the beasts of the forest, and yet no man in a
state of nature, scarcely, is a match for any one of these createres;
they don't minister to his wants, and he can't tame them to his

uses.

" I have often asked myself. Slick," said he, " the same question,
for nothing is made in vain, but it is a query not easy to answer.
My own opinion is, they were designed to enforce civilization.
"Without these terrors attending a sojourn in the wilderness, man
would have wandered off as they do, and lived alone ; he would
have made no home, dwelt with no wife, and nurtured no children.
His descendants would have done the same. When he encountered
another male, he would have given him battle, perhaps, killed and
eat him. His very language would have perished, if ever he had
any, and he would have been no better than an ourang-outang. The
option was not given him. He was so constructed and so situated,
he could not live alone. Individual strength was insufficient for
independent existence. To preserve life he had to herd with his
kind. Thus tribes were first formed, and to preserve one tribe from
the violence of another, they again united and formed nations.
This combination laid the foundation of civilization, and as that
extended, these beasts of prey retired to the confines of the coun-
try, enforcing while they still remain, the observance of that law
of nature which assigned to them this outpost duty.

" Where there is nothing revealed to us on the subject, all is left

THB OnOUMBEB LAKE.

to conjecture. Whatever the cause was, we know it was a wise
and a necessary one ; and this appears to me, to be the most piau<
sible reason I can assign. Perhaps we may also trace a farther
purpose in their creation, in compelling by the terror they inspire,
the inferior animals to submit themselves to man, who is alone
able to protect them against their formidable enemies, or to con-
gregate, so that he may easily find them when he requires food ;
and may we not further infer that man also may by a similar sense
of weakness be led to invoke in like manner the aid of him who
made all things and governs all things. Whatever is, is right," and
then he quoted two Latin lines.

I hate to have a feller do that, it*s like throwin an apple into the
water before a boy. He either has to lose it and go off disap-
pointed, wonderin what its flavor is, or else wade out for it, and
like as not get out of his depth afore he knows where he is. So I
generally make him first translate it, and then write it down for
me. He ain't likely after that to do it a second time. Here are
the words :

*' Si quid novisti rectius istis
Candidas imperti, si non his utere mecum/*

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CUCUMBER LAKE.

" Herv is a place under the lee-bow," said the Pilot, " in which
there are sure to be some coasters, among wjiom the mate may
find a market for his wares, and make a good exchange for his
mackarel."

So we accordingly entered, and cast anchor among a fleet of fore-
and-afters, in one of those magnificent ports with which the eastern
coast is so liberally supplied.

" There is some good salmon-fishing in the stream that falls into
the harbor," said the Doctor, " suppose we try our rods ;" and
while Cutler and his people were occupied in traffic, we rowed up
the river, beyond the little settlement which had nothing attractive
in it, and landed at the last habitation we could see. Some thirty
or forty acres had been cleared of the wood, the fields were well-
fenced, and a small stock of horned cattle, principally young ones,
and a few sheep were grazing in the pasture. A substantial rough
log hut and barn were the only buildings. With the exception of
two little children playing about the door, there were none of the
&mily to be seen.

THB OUOUUBEB LAKE.

808

a wise
:>st plau<

farther

inspire,
is alone

to con-
es food;
ar sense
lim who
ht,'* and

into the
ff disap-
it, and
s. Sol
own for
lere are

in which
ate may
» for his

; of fore-
i eastern

rails into
s;" and
3wed up
ttractive
le thirty
ire well-
Qg ones,
»1 rough
)tion of
e of the

On entering the house, we found a young woman, who appeared
to be its sole occupant. She was about twenty 'five years of age ;
tall, well-formed, strong, and apparently in the enjoyment of good
health and spirits. She had a fine open countenance, an artless and
prepossessing manner, and was plainly but comfortably clad in the
ordinary homespun of the country, and not only looked neat her-
self, but everything around her was beautifully clean. It was man-
ifest she had been brought up in one of the older townships of the
province, for there was an ease and air about her somewhat supe-
rior to the log hut in which we found her. The furniture was sim-
ple and of rude manufacture, but sufficient for the wants of a small
family, though here and there was an article of a different kind, and
old-fashioned shape, that looked as if it had once graced a substan-
tial farm-house; probably a present from the inmates of the old
homestead.

We soon found from her, that she and her husband were, as she
naid, new beginners, who, like most persons in the wilderness, had
had many difficulties to contend with, which from accidental causes,
had during the past year been greatly increased. The weavil
had destroyed their grain crop and the rot their potatoes, their
main dependence, and they had felt the pressure of hard times.
She had good hopes however, she said, for the present season, for
they had sowed the golden straw wheat, which they heard was
exempt from the ravages of insects, and their potatoes had been
planted early on burnt land, without manure, and she was confident
they would thereby be rescued from the disease. Her husband,
she informed us, in order to earn some money to make up for their
losses, had entered on board of an American fishing vessel, and she
was in daily expectation of his arrival, to remain at home, until the
captain should call for him again, after he had landed his cargo at
Portland. All this was told in a simple and unaffected manner,
but there was a total absence of complaint or despondency, which
often accompany the recital of such severe trials.

Having sent Sorrow back in the boat, with an injunction to
watch our signal of recall, we proceeded further up the river, and
commenced fishing. In a short time we killed two beautiful sal-
mon, but the black flies and musquitoes were so intolerably trou-
blesome, we were compelled to return to the log hut. I asked
permission of our cheerful, tidy young hostess to broil a piece of
the salmon by the fire, more for the purpose of leaving the fish
with her than anything else, when she immediately offered to per-
form that friendly office for us herself.

" I believe," she said, " I have a drawing of tea left," and taking
from the shelf a small mahogany caddy, emptied it of its contents.
It was all she had. The flour-barrel was also examined, and enough
was gathered, as she said by great good luck, to make a few cakesi

910

TBB OUOUMBBS LAXK.

Her old man, she remarked, for so she termed her young husband,
>vould be back in a day or two, and bring a fresh supply. To
relieve her of our presence, while she was busied in those prepara-
tions, we strolled to the bank of the river, where the breeze in the
open ground swept away our tormentors, the venomous and rav-
enous flies, and by the time our meal was ready, returned almost
loaded with trout. I do not know that I ever enjoyed anything
more than this unexpected meal. The cloth was snowy white, the
butter delicious, and the eggs fresh laid. In addition to this, and
what rendered it so acceptable, it was a free offering of the heart.

In the course of conversation I learned from her, that the first
year they had been settled there they had been burnt out, and lost
nearly all they he.d, but she didn't mind that, she said, for, thank
God, she had saved her children, and she believed they had
originally put up their building in the wrong place. The neighbors
had been very kind to them ; helped them to erect a new and larger
house, near the beautiful spring we saw in the green ; and besides,
she and her husband were both young, and she really believed they
were better off than they were before the accident.

Poor thing, she didn't need words of comfort ; her reliance on
Providence, and their own exertions, was so great, she seemed to
have no doubt as to their ultimate success. Still, though she did
not require encouragement, confirmation of her hopes I knew would
be grateful to her, and I told her to tell her husband on no account
to think of parting with or removing from the place, for I observed
there was an extensive intervale of capital quality, an excellent
mill privilege on the stream where I caught the salmon, and as he
had the advantage of water carriage, that the wood on the place,
which was of a quality to suit the Halifax markets, would soon
place him in independent circumstances.

" He will be glad to hear you think so, sir," she replied, " for he
has oflen said the very same thing himself, but the folks at the
settlement laugh at him, when he talks that way, and say he is too
sanguine. But I am sure he aint, for it is very much like my poor
father's place in Colchester, only it has the privilege of a harbor,
which he had not, and that is a great thing."

The signal for Sorrow having been hung out for some time, we
rose to take leave, and wishing to find an excuse for leaving some
money behind me, and recollecting having seen some cows in the
field, I asked her if she could sell me some of her excellent
butter for the use of the cabin. She said she could not do so, for
the cows all had calves, and she made but little ; but she had five
or six small prints, if I would accept them, and she could fill me a
bottle or two with cream.

I felt much hurt — I didn't know what to do. She had given me
her last ounce of tea, baked her last cake, and presented me with

TBB OUOUMBBB LAKB.

811

lusband,

)ly. To

prepara-

ze in the

and rav-

1 almost

anything

hite, the

his, and

e heart.

the first

and lost

or, thank

ley had

teighbors

nd larger

besides,

ved they

liance on
emed to
1 she did
ew would
J account
observed
excellent
.nd as he
;he place,
mid soon

I, "for he
ks at the
he is too
my poor
a harbor,

time, we
ing some
vs in the
excellent
io so, for
i had five
fill me a

jiven me
me with

all the butter fthe had in the house. " Could or would you have
done that ?" said I to myself, " come, Sam, speak the truth now."
Well, Squire, I only brag when I have a right to boast, though you
do say I am always brim full of it, and 1 won't go for to deceive
you or myself either, 1 know I couldn't, thf^t's a fact. I have mixed
too much with the world, my feelings have got blunted, and my
heart aint no longer as soft as it used to did to be. I can give, and
give liberally, because I am able, but 1 give what I don't want and
what I don't miss ; but to give as this poor woman did all she had
of these two indispensable articles, tea &\A flour, ib u thing, there is
no two ways about it, I could not.

I must say I was in a fix ; if I was to offer tu pay her, I knew I
should only wound her feelings. She derived pleasure from her
hospitality, why should I deprive her of that gratification. If she
delighted to give, why should I not in a like feeling be pleased to
accept, when a grateful reception was all that was desired — must I
be outdone in all things ? must she teach me how to give freely and
accept gracefully 1

She shall have her way this hitch, and so will I have mine bime
by, or the deuce is in the die. I didn't surely come to Liscombe
Harbor to be taught those things.

" Tell your husband," sais I, " I think very highly of his location,
and if hard times continue to pinch him, or he needs a helping
hand, I am both able and willing to assist him, and will have great
pleasure in doing so for her sake who has so kindly entertained us
in his absence. Here is my card and address, if he wants a friend
let him come to me, and if he can't do that, write to me, and he
will find I am on hand. Any man in Boston will tell him where
Sam Slick lives."

" Who ?" said she.

" Sam Slick," sais I.

" My goodness," said she, " are you the Mr. Slick who used to
sell — ' She paused and colored slightly, thinking, perhaps, as
many people do, I would be ashamed to be reminded of pedling.

" Wooden clocks," sais I, helping her to the word. " Yes," sais
I, " I am Sam Slick the Clockmaker, at least what is left of me."

" Goodness gracious, sir," said she, advancing and shaking hands
cordially with me, " how glad I am to see you. You don't recol-
lect me, of course, I have grown so since we met, and I don't
recollect your features, for it is so long ago, but I mind seeing you
at my father's old house. Deacon Flint's, as well as if it was yes-
terday. We bought a clock from you ; you asked mother's leave
to let you put it up, and leave it in the room till you called for it.
You said you trusted to " sofb sawder" to get it into the house, and
to " human natur" that it should never come out of it. How often
our folks have laughed over that story. Dear, dear, only to think

did

TBB OTJOtMBEB LAEB.

•we should have ever met again," and, going to a trunk, she took
out of a baric-box ar silver sixpence with a hole in it, by which it
was suspended on a black: ribbon.

*' See, sir, do you recollect that, you gave that to me for a keep-
sake? you said it was ' luck-money.' "

" Well," sais I, " if that don't pass, don't it ? Oh, dear, how
glad I am to see you, and yet how sad it makes me, too. I am de-
lighted at meetin you so onexpecteC, and yet it makes me feel so
old it scares me. It only seems as if it was the other day when I
was at your house, and since then you have growd up from a little
girl into a tall handsome woman, got married, been settled, and are
the mother of two children. Dear me, its one o' the slaps old
Father Time gives me in the face sometimes, as much as to hint, * I
say, Slick, you are gettin too old now to talk so much nonsense
as you do.' Well," sais I, "my words have come true about
that silver sixpence.

" Come here, my little man," sais I to her pretty curly-headed
little boy, " come here to me," and I resumed my seat. " Now,'*
sais I, " my old friend, I will show you how that prophesy is ful-
filled to this child. That clock I sold to Deacon Flint only cost me
five dollars, and five dollars more would pay duty, freight, and
carriage, and all expenses, which left five pounds clear profit,
but that warn't the least share of the gain : it introduced my wares
all round and through the country, and it would have paid me well
if I had given him a dozen clocks for his patronage. I always
thought I would return him that profit if 1 could see him, and as I
can't do that, I will give it to this little boy," so I took out my
pocket-book and gave her twenty dollars for him.

" Come," sais 1, " my friend, that relieves my conscience now of
a debt of gratitude, for that is what I always intended to do if I got
a chance."

Well, she took it, said it was very kind, and would be a great
help to them ; but that she didn't see what occaaon there was to
return the money, for it was nothing but the fair profit of a trade,
and the clock was a most excellent one, kept capital time, and was
still standing in the old house.

Thinks I to myself, "you have taught me two things, my pretty
friend; first, how to give, and second, how to receive."

Well, we bid her good-bye, and after we had proceeded a short
distance I returned.

Sais I, " Mrs. Steele, there is one thing I wish you would do for
me ; is there any cranberries in this neighborhood ?"

" Plenty, Sir," she said ; " at the head of this river there is an
immense bi»g, chock full of them."

" Well," sais I, " there is nothin in natur I am so fond of as them ;
I would give anything hi the world for a few bushel. Tell your

THE OnOVlIBBfi LAKE.

313

she took
which it

»r a keep-
ear, how
I am de-
le feel so
y when I
tn a little
1, and are
slaps old

hint, ' I
nonsense
ue about

y-headed
" Now,"
sy is ful-
1^ cost me
sight, and
ir profit,
my wares
i me well

1 always
and as I

Ic out my

56 now of
lo if I got

e a great
e was to
f a trade,
, and was

ly pretty

d a short

lid do for

Bre is an

as them ;
Pell your

husband to employ some people to pick me this fall a barrel of
them, and send them to m© by oae of our vessels, directed to me
to Slickville, and when I go on board I will send you a barrel of
flour to pay for it."

" Dear me, Sir," said she, " that's A great deal more than their
value; why they ain't worth more than two dollars. We will
pick them for you with great pleasure. We don't want pay."

" Ain't they worth that ?" said I, " so much the better. Well,
then, he can send me another barrel the next year. Why, they are
as cheap as bull beef at a leent a pound. Good bye ; tell him to be
sure to come and see me the ^rst time he goes to the States.
Adieu."

" What do you think of that, Doctor," said I, as we proceeded
to the boat ; " ain't that a niee woman ? how cheerful and uncom-
plaining she is ; how full of nope and confidence in the future. Her
heart is in the right plaee, ain't it 1 My old mother had that same
sort of contentment about her, only, perhaps, her resignation was
stronger than her hope. When anything ever went wrong about
our place to home to Sllekvllle, she'd always say, ' Well, Sam, it
might have been worse ;' or, * Sam, the darkest hour is always just
afore day,' and so on. But Minister used to amuse me beyond
anything, poor old soul. Onoe the congregation met and raised his
wages from three to four hundred dollars a-year. Well, it nearly
set him crazy ; it bothered him so he could hardly sleep. So after
church was over the next Sunday, he sais, ' My dear brethren, I
hear you have raised my salary to four hundred dollars. 1 am
greatly obliged to you for your kindness, but I can't think of taking
it on no account First you oan't afford it no how you can fix it,
and I know it ; secondly, t ain't worth it, and you know it ; and
thirdly, I am nearly tired to death collecting my present income ;
if I have to dun the same way for that, it will kill me. I can't
stand it ; I shall die. No, no j pay me what you allow me more
punctually, and it is all I ask, or will ever receive.'

" But this poor woman is a fair sample of her class in this
country ; I do believe the only true friendship and hospitality is to
be found among them. They ain't rich enough for ostentation, and
are too equal in condition and circumstances for the action of
jealousy or rivalry ; I believe they are the happies*^^ people in the
world, but I know they are the kindest. Their feelings are not
chilled by poverty or corrupted by plenty ; their occupations pre-
clude the hope of wealth, and forbid the fear of distress. Depend-
ant on each other for mutual assistance, in those things that are
beyond individual exertion, they interchange friendly offices, which
commencing in necessity, grow into habits, and soon become the
* labor of love.' They are poor, but not destitute, a region in my
opinion in which the heart is more fully developed than in any
14

iju

THE CUCtJUBBE LAKE.

other. Those who are situated like Steele and his wife, and com-
mence a settlement in the woods, with the previous training they
have received in the rural districts, begin at the right end ; but
they are the only people who are fit to be pioneers in the forest.
How many there are who begin at the wrong end ; perhaps there
is no one subject on which men form such false notions as the mode
of settling in the country, whether they are citizens of a colonial
town, or strangers from Great Britain.

" Look at that officer at Halifax : he is the best dressed man in
the garrison ; he is well got wp always ; he looks the gentleman
every inch of him ; how well his horses are groomed j how perfect
his turn-out looks; how well appointed it is, as he calls it. He and
his servant and his cattle are a little bit of fashion imported from
the park ssnd astonish the natives. Look at his wife, ain't she a
beautiful creature I they are proud ofj^ and were Just made for each
other. This is not merely all external appearance either ; they
are accomplished people ; they sing, they play, they sketch, they
paint, they speak several languages, they are w^l read, they have
many resources. Soldiering is dull, and, in time of peace, only a
police service. It has disagreeable duties ; it involves repeated
removals, and the alternation of bad climates — from Hudson's Bay
to Calcutta's Black Hole. The juniors of the regimental officers
are mere boys — the seniors great «npty cartouch boxes, and the
women have cabals — there is a sameness even in its variety ; but
worse than all, it has no home — in short, the whole thing is a bore.
It is better to sell out and settle in the province ; land is cheap ;
their means are ample, and more than sufficient for the requirements
of the colony ; country society is stupid ; there are no people fit
to visit. It is best to be out of the reach of their morning calls
and their gossip. A few miles back in the woods there is a splendid
stream with a beautiful cascade on it ; there is a magnificent lake
communicating with several others that form a chain of many miles
in extent. That swelling knoll that slopes so gently to the water
would be such a pretty site for a cottage-or«e, and the back-ground
of hanging wood has an indescribable beauty in it, especially in the
autumn, when the trees are one complete mass of variegated hues*
He warms on the theme as he dilates on it, and sings as he turns
to his pretty wife :

" I kn^w by the smoke that so gracefully curled
Above the green elms that a cottage was neaTt
And I said if there's peace to be found in the world,

The heart ^hat is hiunble might hope for it here." ,

" How sweet to plan, how pleasant to execute. How exciting
to see it grow under one's own eye, the work of one's own hand —
the creation of one's own taste. It is decided on ; Dechamps

and com-
ining they

end; but

the forest.

haps there

s the mode

a colonial

ed man in
gentleman
lOW perfect
He and
orted from
mi't she a
je for each
fcher; they
cetch, they
, they have
ace, only a
s repeated
dson's Bay
tal officers
)s, and the
iriety; but
g is a bore,
is cheap ;
(][uirement»
people fit
rning calls
^ a splendid
ficent lake
nany miles
the water
ick-ground
ially in the
;ated hues»
s he turns

THB CUCUMBES LAKE.

315

w exciting
vn hand —
Dechamps

retires, the papers go in, the hero goes out — what a relief; no in-
spection of soldiers' dirty kits — no parade by day — no guards nor
rounds by night — no fatigue parties of men who never fatigue
themselves — no stupid court martial — no horrid punishments — no
reviews to please a colonel who never is pleased, or a general who
will swear — no marching through streets, to be stared at by house-
maids from upper windows, and by dirty boys in the side paths —
no procession to follow brass instruments, like the train of a circus
— no bearded band-master with his gold cane to lead on his musi-
cians, and no bearded white goat to march at the head of the regi-
ment. All, all, are gone.

" He is out of livery, he has played at soldiering long enough ;
he is tired of the game, he sells out, the man of business is called
in, his lawyer as he terms him, as if every gentleman kept a lawyer,
as he does a footman. He is in a hurry to have the purchase com-
pleted with as little delay as possible. But delays will occur, he
is no longer a centurion and a man of authority, who has nothing
to do but to say to this one come, and he cometh ; and another go,
and he goeth ; do this and it is done. He can't put a lawyer under
arrest, he is a man of arrests himself. He never heard of an attach-
ment for contempt, and if he had, he couldn't understand it ; for
when the devil was an attorney, he invented the term, as the softest
and kindest name for the hardest and most unkind process there is.
Attachment for contempt, what a mockery of Christian forgiveness !

" A conveyancer is a slow coach, he must proceed cautiously, he
has a long journey to take, he has to travel back to a grant from
the crown, through all the ' mesne' conveyances. He don't want
a mean conveyance, he will pay liberally if it is only done quickly.
And is informed ' mesne' in law signifies intermediate. It is hard
to say what the language of law does mean. Then there are
searches to be made in the record offices, and the — damn the
searches, for ho is in a hurry and loses his patience — search at the
bankers and all will be found right. Then there are releases and
assignments and discharges. He can stand it no longer, he releases
his lawyer, discharges him, and assigns another, who hints, insi-
nuates, he don't charge ; but gives him to understand his predeces-
sor was idle. He will lose no time, indeed he has no time to lose,
he is so busy with other clients' affairs, and is as slow as the first

man was.
"But at last

it is done ; the titles are completed. He is pre-
sented with a huge pile of foolscap paper, very neatly folded, beau-
tifully engrossed and endorsed in black letters, and nicely tied up
with red tape, which with sundry plans, surveys and grants, are
secured in a large dispatch box, on which are inscribed in gold let-
ters ' the Epaigwit estate.'' It is a pretty Indian word that, it means
the ' home on the wave.' It is the original name of that gem of the

■f

i^i

1^1

816

TH£ OirCUMBBB LAKE.

^■\

1:5-

western ocean, which the vulgar inhabitants have christened Prince
Edward's Island.

" But what can you expect of a people whose governor calls the
gentry * the upper crust of society,' and who in their turn see an
affinity between a Scotch and a Roman fiddle, and denounce him as
a Nero. But then who looks, as he says, for taste in a colony, it
is only us ' Englishmen' who have any. Yes, he calls this place
* Epaigwit.' It has a distingui appearance on his letters. He has
now a name, the next thing is * a local habitation.' Well, we won't
stop to describe it, but it has an elegant drawing-room, if there was
only company to collect in it, a spacious dining-room, and though
only two plates are on the table, there is room for twenty, and a
charming study only awaiting his leisure to enjoy it and so on.

" It is done and the design carried out, though not completed ;
prudence forbids a further expenditure just now. It has cost five
times as much as was contemplated, and is not worth a tenth part
of the outlay, still it is very beautiful. Strangers go to see it, and
every one pronounces it the prettiest thing in the Lower provinces.
There have been some little drawbacks, but they are to be expected
in a colony and among the Goths and Vandals who live there. The
contractors have repudiated their agreement on account of the
extensive alterations made in the design and the nature of the
work, and he has found there 's law in the country, if not justice.
The servants find it too lonely, they have no taste for the beauties
of nature, and remain without work, or quit without notice. If he
refuses to pay he is sued, if he pays he is cheated. The house leaks,
for the materials are green, the chimneys smoke, for the drafts are
in the wrong place. The children are tormented by black flies and
musquitoes, and their eyes are so swelled they can't see. The
bears make love to his sheep, and the minks and foxes devour his
poultry. Tiie Indians ivho come to beg, are supposed to come to
murder, and the negroes who come to sell wild berries are sus-
pected to come to steal. He has no neighbors, he did not desire
any, and if a heavy weight has to be lifted, it is a little, but not
much inconvenience to send to the town for assistance ; and the
people go cheerfully, for they have only five miles to come, and
five to return, and they are not detained more than five minutes,
for he never asks them into his house. The butcher won't come
so far to carry his meat, nor the baker his bread, nor the postman
to deliver his letters.

" The church is too far off, and there is no school. But the cler-
gyman is not fit to be heard, he is such a drone in the pulpit ; and
it is a sweet employment to train one's own children, who thus
avoid contamination by not associating with vulgar companions.

" These are trifling vexations, and what is there in this life that
has not some little drawback. But there is something very charm.

THE OUOUMBEB LAKE.

817

lied Prince

)r calls the
urn see an
nee him as
colony, it
this place
i. He has
1, we won't
f there was
md though
nty, and a
so on.
iompleted ;
is cost five
tenth part
see it, and
provinces,
e expected
here. The
unt of the
ure of the
lot justice,
le beauties
ice. If he
ouse leaks,
'■ drafts are
3k flies and
see. The
ievour his
to come to
Bs are sus-
not desire
e, but not
i; and the
come, and
e minutes,
on't come
le postman

it the cler-
ilpit; and
, who thus
3anions.
is life that
>ry charm.

ing in perfect independence in living for each other, and in residing
in one of the most delightful spots in America, surrounded by the
most exquisite scenery that was ever beheld. There is one thing,
however, that is annoying. The country people will not use, or
adopt that pretty word ' Epaigwit,' ' the home of the wave,' which
rivals in beauty of conception, an eastern expression. The place
was originally granted to a fellow of the name of Umber, who was
called after the celebrated navigator 'Cook.' These two words
when united soon became corrupted, and the magnificent sheet of
water was designated ' the Cucumber Lake,' while its splendid
cataract known in ancient days by the Indians as the 'Pan-ook', or
' the River's Leap,' is perversely called by way of variation ' the
Cowcumber Falls ;' can any thing be conceived more vulgar or
more vexatious, unless it be their awkward attempt at pronun-
ciation, which converts Epaigwit into ' a pigs wit,' and Pan-hook
into ' Pond-hook.'

" But, then, what can you expect of such boors, and who cares,
or what does it matter, for after all, if you come to that, the ' Cum-
berland Lakes' is not very euphonious, as he calls it, whatever that
means. He is right in saying it is a beautiful place, and as he oflen
observes, what an immense sum of money it would be worth if it
were only in England ! but the day is not far distant, now that the
Atlantic is bridged by steamers, when ' bag-men' will give place to
tourists, and ' Epaigwit' will be the ' Kiilarney' of America. He
is quite right, that day will come, and so will the millenium, but it
is a good way off yet ; and dear old Minister used to say, there
was no dependable authority that it ever would come at all.

" Now and then a brother officer visits him. Elliott is there
now, not the last of the Elliotts, for there is no end of them, and
though only a hundred of them have been heard of in the world,
there are a thousand well known to the Treasury. But he is the
last chum from his regiment he will ever see. As they sit after
dinner, he hands the olives to his friend, and suddenly checks him-
self, saying, I forgot, you never touch the ' after-feed.^ Then he
throws up both eyes and hands, and affects to look aghast at the
mistake. ' Really,' he sais, ' I shall soon become as much of a boor,
as the people of this country. I hear nothing now but mowing,
browsing, and ' after-feed,' until at last I find myself using the lat-
ter word for ' desert.' He says it prettily, and acts it well, and
although his wife has often listened to the sam^ joke, she looks as
if it would bear repetition, and her face expresses great pleasure.
Poor Dechamps, if your place is worth nothing, she, at least, is a
treasure above all price.

"Presently, Elliot sais, ' By-the-bye, Dechamps, have you heard
we are ordered to Corfu, and embark immediately.'

" Dear me, what magic there is in a word. Sometimes it dia.

*'i

'il

1,1

ilii

■*

|.:'!i

818

THE CUCUMBER LAKE.

frf

cloies, in painful distinctness, the past ; at others, it reveals a pro-
phetic page of the future ; who would ever suppose there was any-
thing in that little insignificant word, to occasion a thought, unless
it was whether is was pronounced Corfoo or Corfew, and it's so
little consequence which, 1 always give it the go by and say Ionian
liles.

" But it startled Dechamps. He had hoped before he left the
army to have been ordered there, and from thence to have visited
tha classic coasts of Greece. Alas, that vision has gone, and there
is a, slight sigh of regret, for possession seldom equals expectation,
and always cloys. He can never more see his regiment, they have
parted for ever. Time and distance have softened some of the
rougher features of military life. He thinks of the joyous days of
youth, the varied scenes of life, his profession exposed to his view,
and the friends he has left behind him. The service he thinks not
so intolerable, after all, and though regimental society is certainly
tiot what he should choose, especially as a married man, yet, ex-
cept in a rollicking corps, it may at least negatively be said to be
' not bad.'

" From this review of the past, he turns to the prospect before
him. But, he discerns something that he does not like to contem-
plate, a Hlight shadow passes over his face, and he asks Elliott to
pass the wine. His wife, with the quickness of perception so natu-
ral to a woman, sees at once what is passing in his mind ; for simi-
lar, but deeper, far deeper thoughts, like unbidden guests, have
occupied hers many an anxious hour. Poor thing, she at once per-
ceives her duty, and resolves to fulfil it. She will be more cheer-
ful. She at least will never murmur. After all, Doctor, it's no
preat exaggeration to call a woman, that has a good head and kind
heart, and the right shape, build, and bearings, an angel, is it ? But
let us mark their progress, for we shall be better able to judge
then.

'* Let us visit Epaigwit again in a few years. Who is that man
near the gate, that looks unlike a servant, unlike a farmer, unlike a
gentleman, unlike a sportsman, and yet has a touch of all four
characters about him 1 He has a shocking bad hat on, but what's
tho use of a good hat in the woods, as poor Jackson said, where
there is no one to see it. He has not been shaved since last sheep-
shearing, and has a short black pipe in his mouth, and the tobacco
eimells like nigger-Wbad or pig-tail. He wears a coarse check shirt
without a collar, a black silk nock-cloth frayed at the edge, that
looks like a rope of old ribbons. His coat appears as if it had
once been new, but had been on its travels, until at last it had got
pawned to a Jew at Rag-alley. His waistcoat was formerly bulT,
but now resembles yellow flannel, and the buttons, though complete
in number, are of different sorts. The trowsers are homcispun,

THE OUOUMBEB LAKE.

Bid

veals a pro-
;i'e was any-
ught, unless
and it's so
i say Ionian

he left the
have visited

I, and there
expectation,
t, they have
ome of the
ous days of
to his view,
e thinks not
is certainly
lan, yet, ex-
e said to be

pect before
to contem-
:s Elliott to
ion so natu-
d ; for simi-
guests, have
at once per-
more cheer-
ctor, it's no
ad and kind
!, is it ? But
le to judge

s that man
ler, unlike a
of all four
, but what's
said, where
3 last sheep-
the tobacco
check shirt
s edge, that
s if it had
; it had got
'merly buff,
jh complete
homcs3pun,

much worn, and his boots coarse enough to swap with a fisherman
for mackerel. His air and look betokens pride rendered sour by
poverty.

"But there is something worse than all this; something one
never sees without disgust or pain, because it is the sure precursor
of a diseased body, a shattered intellect, and voluntary degrada-
tion. There is a bright red color that extends over the whole face,
and reaches behind the ears. The whiskers are prematurely tipped
with white, as if the heated skin refused to nourish them any lon-
ger. The lips are slightly swelled, and the inflamed skin indicates
inward fever, while the eyes are bloodshot, the under lids distended,
and incline to shrink from contact with the heated orbs they were
destined to protect He is a dram drinker ; and the poison that he
imbibes with New England rum, is as fatal, and nearly as rapid in
its destruction as strikiine.

" Who is he ; can you guess 1 do you give it up ? He is that
handsome officer, the Laird of Epaigwit as the Scotch would say,
the general as we should call him, for we are liberal of titles, and
the man that lives at Coi^^cumber Falls as they say here. Pooi'
fellow, he has made the same discovery Sergeant Jackson did, that
there is no use of good things in the woods where there is no one
to see them. He is about to order you off his premises, but it
occurs to him that would be absurd, for he has nothing now worth
seeing. He scrutinises you, however, to ascertain if he has ever
seen you before. He fears recognition, for he dreads both your
pity and your ridicule ; so he strolls leisurely back to the house
with a certain bull-dog air of defiance.

" Let us follow him thither ; but before we enter, observe there
is some glass out of the window, and its place supplied by shingles.
The stanhope is in the coach-house, but the bye-road was so full of
stumps and cradle-hills, it was impossible to drive in it, and the
moths have eaten the lining out The carriage has been broken so
often, it is not worth repairing, and the double harness has been
cut up to patch the tacklin of the horse-team. The shrubbery has
been browsed away by the cattle, and the rank grass has choked
all the rose bushes and pretty little flowers. What is the use of
these things in the woods ? That remark was on a level with the
old dragoon's intellect ; but I am surprised at this intelligent offi-
cer, this man of the world, this martinet, didn't also discover, that
he who neglects himself, soon becomes so cardps as to neglect his
other duties, and that to lose sight of them is% create and invite
certain ruin. But let us look at the interior.

" There are some pictures on the walls, and there are yellow
stains were others hung. Where are they ? for I think I heard a
man say he bought them on account of their handsome frames,
from that crack-brained officer at Cucumber Lake, and he shut his

820

THE OVOUHBBB LAKK.

eye, and looked knowning, and whispered, * something wrong there,
had to sell out of the army ; some queer story about another wife
still living; don't know particulars.' Poor Dechamps, you are
guiltless of that charge at any rate to my certain knowledge ; but
how often does dander bequeath to folly ^ that which of right belongs
to another/ The nick-knacks, the antique china, the Apostles'
spoons, the queer little old-fashioned silver ornaments, the French
clock, the illustrated works, and all that sort of thing, — all, all, are
gone. The housemaids broke some, the rfiildren destroyed others,
and the rest were sent to auction, merely to secure their preservation.
The paper is stained in some places, in others has pealed of! ; but
where under the sun have all the accomplishments gone to I

'• The piano got out of tune, and there was nobody to* put it in
order : it was no use ; the strings were taken out, and the case
was converted into a cupboard. The machinery of the harp
became rusty, and the cords were wanted for something else. But
what is the use of these things in the woods where there is nobody
to see them 1 But here is Mrs. Dechamps. Is it possible I My
goody gracious as I am a living sinner I Well 1 nevei' in all my
born days I what a dreadful wreck t you know how handsome she
was. Well, 1 won't describe her now, I pity her too much. You
know I said they were counterparts, just made for each other, and
so they were ; but they are of different sexes, made of diflferent
stuff, and trouble has had a diflerent effect on them. He has
neglected himself^ and she is negligent of her dress too, but not in
the same way. She is still neat^ but utterly regardless of what
her attire is ; but let it be what it may, and let her put on what
she will, still she looks like a lady. But her health is gone, and
her spirits too ; and in their place a little, delicate hectic spot has.
settled in her cheek, beautiful to look at, but painful to think of.
This faint blush is kindly sent to conceal consumption, and the
faint smile is assumed to iude the broken heart. If it didn't sound
unfeelin, I should say she was booked for an early train ;, but I
think so, if 1 don't say so. The hour is fixed, the departure
certain ; she is glad to leave Epaigwit..

" Somehow, though, I must say 1 am a little disappointed in her.
She was a soldier's wife ; I thought she was made of better stuffy
and if she had died would have at least died game. Suppose they
have been unfortunate in pitching their tent ' on the home of the
wave,' and got aground, and their effects have been thrown over-
board ; what is thal§ after all I Thousands have done the same ;,
there is still hope for them. They are more than a match for
these casualties ; how is it she has given up so soon l Well don't
allude to it, but there is a sad tragical story connected with that
lake. Do you recollect that beautiful curly-headed child, her
eldest daughter, that she used to walk with at Hali&x 1 Well,

THE OUOUMBEB LAKE.

821

'ong therey
[Other wife
k, you are
ledge ; but
fht belongs

Apostles'
the French
ill, all, are
^ed others,
reservation.
id ofi \ but
tol

;a pat it in
d the case
* the harp
else. But

is nobody
ible ! My
V in all my
idsonie she
luch. You
\ other, and
of different
t. He has
, but not in
sss of what
kut on what
s gone, and
tic spot has
to think of.
on, and the
idn^t sound
*ain*^ but I

departure

nted in her.
better stuffy
appose they
lome of the
hirown over-
i the same ;,
match for
Well don't
ed with that
child, her
taxi Well,

she grew up into a magnificent girl ; she was full of health and
spirits, and as fleet and as wild as a hare. She lived in the woods
and on the lake. She didn't shoot, and she didn't fish, but she
accompanied those who did. The beautiful but dangerous bark
canoe was her delight ; she never was happy but when she was in
it. Tom Hodges, the orphan boy they had brought with them
from the regiment, who alone of all their servants had remained
faithful in their voluntary exile, was the only one permitted to
accompany her ; for he was so careful, so expert, and so good a
swimmer. Alas ! one night the canoe returned not. What a long,
eager anxious night was that ! but towards noon the next day, the
upturned bark drifted by the shore, and then it was but too evident
tJnat that sad event which the anxious mother had so often dreaded
and predicted had come to pass. They had met a watery grave.
Often and often were the whole chain of lakes explored, but their
bodies were never found. Entangled in the long grass and sunken
driftwood, that covered the bottom of these basins, it was not
likely they would ever rise to the surface.

" It was impossible to contemplate that fearful lake without a
shudder. They must leave the place soon, and for ever. Oh, had
Emily's life been spared, she could have endured any and every-
thing for her sake. Poor thing ! how little she knew what she
was a talking about, as she broke the seal of a letter in a well-
known hand. Hrr life was spared ; it never was endangered.
She had eloped with Tom Hodges — she had reached Boston — she
was very happy —Tom was all kindness to her. She hoped they
would forgive her and write to her, for they were going to Cali-
fornia, where they proposed to be married as soon as they arrived.
Whoever appealed to a mother for forgiveness in vain? Every-
thing appeared in a new light. The child had been neglected ; she
ought not to have been suffered to spend so much of her time with
that boy ; both her parents had strangely forgotten that they had
grown up, ar»d — it was no use to say more. Her father had locked
her out of his heart, and thrown away the key for ever. He wished
she had been drowned, for in that case she would have died
innocent ; and he poured out such a torrent of imprecations, that
the poor mother was terrified lest, as the Persians say, these
curses, like fowls, might return home to roost, or like prayers,
might be heard, and procure more than was asked.

" You may grieve over the conduct of a chila, and lament its
untimely death, and trust in God for his mercy ; but no human
being can reverse the order of things, and first mourn the decease
of a child, and then grieve for its disgraceful life ; for there is a
grave again to be dug, and who knoweth whether the end shall be
peace 1 We can endure much, but there is a load that crusheth.
Poor thiug ! you were right, and your husband wrong. Woman-
14*

y (

522

THE CUCUMBER LAKE

l.i I

like, your judgment was correct, your impulses good, and your
heart in the right place. The child was not to be blamed, but its
parents. You could, if you thought proper, give up society and
live for each other ; you had proved it, and knew how hollow and
false it was ; but your children could not resign what they never
had, nor ignore feelings which God had implanted within them.
Nature has laws which must and will be obeyed. The swallow
selects its mate, builds its nest, and occupies itself in nurturing its
young. The heart must have something to love, and if it is
restricted in its choice, it will bestow its affections not on what it
would approve and select, but upon what it may chance to find ;
you are not singular in your domestic affliction ; it is the natural
consequence of your isolation, and I have known it happen over
and over again.

" Now, Doctor, let us return, after the lapse of a few years, as
I did, to Epaigwit. I shall never forget the impression it made
upon me. It was about this season of the year, I went there to
fish, intending to spend the night in a camp, so as to be ready for
the morning sport. * Why, where am I,' sais I to myself, when I
reached the place. 'Why, surely this aint Cucumber Lake ! where
is that beautiful hanging wood, the temptation in the wilderness,
that ruined poor Dechamps 1 gone, not cleared, but destroyed ;
not subdued to cultivation, but reduced to desolation.' Tall gaunt
black trees stretch out their withered arms on either side, as if
balancing themselves against a fall, while huge trunks lie scattered
over the ground, where they fell in their fierce conflict with the de-
vouring fire that overthrew them. The ground is thickly cov*^.fed
with ashes, and large white glistening granite rocks, whichhaci for-
merly been concealed by moss, the creeping evergreen, and the
smiling, blushing May-flower, now rear their cold snowy heads, that
contrast so strangely with the funereal pall that envelopes all around
them. No living thing is seen there, nor bird, nor animal, nor in-
sect, nor verdant plant; even the hardy fire- weed has not yet
ventured to intrude on this scene of desolation, and the woodpecker,
afraid of the atmosphere which charcoal has deprived of vitality,
shrinks back in terror when he approaches it. Poor Dechamps,
had you remained to witness this awful conflagration, you would
have observed in those impenetrable boulders of granite, a type
of the hard, cold, unfeeling world around you, and in that withered
and blackened forest, a fitting emblem of your blighted and blasted
prospects.

" But if the trees had disappeared from that side of the lake,
they had been reproduced on the other. The fields, the lawn, and
the garden were overrun with a second growth of wood that had
nearly concealed the house from view. It was with some difficulty
I forced my way thi'ough the chaparel (thicket), which was rendered

THE CtrCUMfiER LAKE.

•2<i

d youf

, but its

ety and

ow and

y never

them.

jwallow

iring it9

if it is

what it

to find ;

natural

>en over

ears, as
it made
there to
sady for
when I
! where
derness,
jtroyed ;
ill gaunt
de, as if
scattered
hi the de-
cov*=!red
had tbr-
and the
ads, that
II around
, nor in-
not yet
dpecker,
vitality,
jchamps,
>u would
, a type
withered
I blasted

the lake,
iwD, and
that had
difficulty
rendered

almost impenetrable by thorns, Virginia creepers, honeysucklef,
and sweet-briars, that had spread in the wildest profusion. The
windows, doors, mantle-pieces, bannisters, and every portable thing,
had been removed from the house by the blacks, who had squatted
in the neighborhood ; even the chimneys had been taken down for
the bricks. The swallows were the sole tenants; the barn had
fallen a prey to decay and storms, and the roof lay comparatively
uninjured at some distance on the ground. A pair of glistening
eyes, peeping through a broken board at the end, showed me that
the foxes had appropriated it to their own use. The horse-stable,
coach-house, and other buildings, were in a similar state of dilapi-
dation.

" I returned to tlie camp, and learned that Mrs. Dechamps was
reposing in peace in the village church-yard, the children had been
sent to England to their relatives, and the Captain was residing in
California with his daughter and Tom Hodges, who were the richest
people in San Francisco.^'

" What a sad picture," said the Doctor.

« Well, it's true though," said I, " aint it?"

" I never was at Cucumber Lake," said he, smiling, " but I have

known several similar failures. The truth is, Mr. Slick, though I

needn'* tell you, for you know better than I do, our friend Steele

besgan at the right and Dechamps at the wrong end. The pooi*

native ought always to go to the woods, the emigrant or gentleman

never ; the one is a rough and ready man ; he is at home with an

axe, and is conversaixt as well with the privations and requirements,

as with the expedients and shifts of forest life ; his condition is

ameliorated every year, and in his latter days he can afford to rest

from his labors ; whereas, if he buys what is called a half-improved

farm, and is unable to pay for it at the time of the purchase, the

mortg£^e is almost sure to ruin him at last. Now, a man of means

who retires to the country is wholly unfit for a pioneer, and should

never attempt to become one ; he should purchase a farm ready

made to his hands, and then he has nothing to do but to cultivate

and adorn it. It takes two generations, at least, to make such a

place as he requires. The native, again, is one of a class, and the

most necessary one, too, in the country ; the people sympathise

with him, aid and encourage him. The emigrant-gentleman belongs

to no class, and wins no affection ; he is kindly received and

judiciously advised by people of his own standing in life, but he

affects to consider their counsel obtrusive and their society a bore ;

he is, therefore, suffered to proceed his own way, which they all

well know, as it has been so often travelled before, leads to ruin.

They pity, but they can't assist him. Yes, yes, your sketch of

" Epaigwit" is so close to nature, I siiouldn't wonder if many a man

who reads it, should think he sees the history of his own place

under the name of 'the Cucumber Lake.' '*

824

THE BEOALL.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE RECALL,

In compiling this JonrnaT, Squire, my abject has been less to gf r«
you the details of my cruise, than to furnish you with my remarks
on men and things in general. Climate, locality, and occupation,
form or vary character, but man is the same sort of critter erery-
where. To know him thoroughly he must be studied in his various
aspects. When I learned drawing, I had an India-rubber figure
with springs in it, and I used to put it into all sorts of attitudes-.
Sometimes it had its arms up, and sometimes down, now a-kimbo,
and then in a boxing posture. I stuck out its legs, or made it stand
bolt upright, and put its head every which way I could think of^
and so on. It taught me to draw, and showed me the effect of
light and shade. So in sketching human character, feefings, preju-
dices, and motives of action, I have considered man at one time as
a politician, a preacher, or a trader, and at another as a country-
man or a citizen, as ignorant or wise, and so on. In this way 1
soon learned to take his guage as you do a cask of spirits, and
prove his strength or weakness by the bead I could raise on him.

if I know anything of these matters, and you seem to consait I
do, why I won't act* " Peter Funk" to myself^ but this I will say
*' Human natur is my weakness.'* Now I think it best to send you
only such portions of my Journal as will interest you, for a mere
diary of a cruise is a mere nothing. So I skip over my sojourn at
Canzeau, and a trip the doctor and I took to Prince Edward's
Island, as containing nothing but a sort of ship's log, and will pro-
ceed to tell you about our sayings and doings at that celebrated
place Louisburg, in Cape Breton, which was twice besieged and
taken, first by our colony forefathers firom Boston, and then by
General Wolfe, the Quebec hero, and of which nothing now re-
mains but its name, which you will find in history, and its harbor,
which you will find in the map. The French thought building a
fortress was colonization, and the English that blowing it up was
the. right way to settle the country. The world is wiser now.

As we approached the place the Doctor said, " you see, Mr. Slick,
the entrance to Louisburg is pointed out to voyagers coming from
the eastward by the ruins of an old French lighthouse and the lan-
tern of a new one on the rocky wall of the north shore, a few min-

* At petty auctions in the States a person is employed to bid up articles in
order to raise their price. Such a person is called a Peter Funk, probably
from that name having frequently been given when things were bought in. In
short, it is now used as a " puffer." — Bartlett.

THE RECALL

826

9 to gf r«
remarks
nrpation,
r cTery-
9 various
3r figure
kUrtudes*.
a-kimbo,
9 it stand
think of;
effect of
5S, preju-
3 time as
coontry-
lis way 1
irits, and
)n him,
consait 1
I will say
send you
br a mere
sojourn at
Edward's
t will pro-
3elebrated
ieged and
then by
5 now re-
ts harbor,
building a
it up was
now.

Mr. Slick,
ning from
id the lan-
i few min-

ip articles in
ik. probably
ight in. lu

utes after approaching which the mariner shoots from a fretful sea
into the smooth and capacious port. The ancient ruins display
even yet the most attractive object to the eye. The outline of
these neglected mounds, you observe, is boldly marked against the
sky, and induces a visit to the spot where the fortress once stood.
Louisburg is everywhere covered with a mantle of turf, and with-
out the assistance of a native it is not easy to discover even the
foundations of the public buildings. Two or three casemates still
remain, appearing like the mouths of huge ovens, surmounted by a
great mass of earth and stone. These caverns, originally the safe-
guards of powder and othi- r combustible munitions of war, now
serve to shelter the flocks of sheep that graze upon the grass that
conceals them. The floors are rendered nearly impassable by the
odor of these animals, but the vaulted ceilings are adorned by de-
pendant stalactites, like icicles in shape, but not in purity of color,
being of a material somewhat similar to oyster shells. The mass
of stone* and brick that composed the buildings, and which is now
swept so completely from its site, has been distributed along the
shores of America as far as Halifax and Boston, having been
successively carried away for the erections in those places and the
intermediate coast, which contains many a chimney bearing the
memorials of Louisburg. The remains of the different batteries on
the island and round the harbor are still shown by the inhabitants
as well as of the wharves, stockade, and sunken ships of war. On
gaining the walls above the town they are found to consist of a
range of earthen fortifications with projecting angles, and extending
as already mentioned from the harbor to the sea, interrupted at in-
tervals by large pits, said to have been produced by the efforts of
the captors to blow up the walls. From these heights the glacis
slopes away to the edge of the bog outside, forming a beautiful
level walk, though now only enjoyed by the sheep, being, like the
walls, carpeted by short turf. At the termination of this line of
fortification, on the sea shore, is a huge and uncouth black rock,
which appears to have been formerly quarried for building stone,
large quantities ready hewn being still scattered round it, and gath-
ered in masses as if prepared for that use.

" The prospect from the brow of the dilapidated ramparts is one
of the most impressive that the place affords. Looking to the
south-west over the former city, the eye wanders upon the intermi-
nable ocean, its blue rolling waves occupying three-fourths of the
scene, and beyond them, on the verge of the horizon, a dense bank
of fog sweeps along with the prevailing S. W. wind, precluding all
hopes of discerning any vista beyond that curtain. Turning land-
wards towards the south-west, over the spacious bog that lies at

* See Haliburton's History of Nova Scotia.

826

THE BECALL.

the foot of the walls, the sight is met by a range of low wood in
the direction of Gabarus, and can penetrate no further. The har-
bor is the only prospect to the northward, and immediately in its
rear the land rises so as to prevent any more distant view, and
even the harbor appears dwindled to a miniature of itself, being
seen in the same picture with the mighty ocean that nearly sur-
rounds the beholder. The character of the whole scene is melan*
choly, presenting the memorials of former life and population, con-
trasted with its present apparent isolation from the natives of the
earth. The impression is not weakened by the sight of the few
miserable huts scattered along the shores of the port, and the little
fishing vessels scarcely perceptible in the mountain swell of the
ocean ; they serve but to recall painfully the images of elegant edi-
fices that once graced the foreground, and of pi^ud flags that waved
upon the face of that heaving deep.

" It is not easy to give a reason for the continued desolation of
Louisburg. A harbor opening directly upon the sea, whence egress
is unobstructed and expeditious, and return equally convenient at
all seasons ; excellent fishing grounds at the very entrance ; space
on shore for all the operations of curing the fish ; every advantage
for trade and the fisheries is offered in vain. The place would ap-
pear to be shunned by tacit consent. The shallops come from
Arichet and St. Peter's Bay to fish at its very mouth, but no one
sets up his establishment there. The merchants resort to every
station in its vicinity, to Main-a-Dieu, the Bras d'Or, St. Anne, In-
ganish, nay even Cape North, places holding out no advantage to
compare with those of Louisburg, yet no one ventures there. The
fatality that hangs over places of fallen celebrity seems to press
heavily on this once valued spot."

" Massa Doctor," said Sorrow, when he heard this description,
" peers to me, dem English did gib de French, goss widout sweet-
enin, most particular jesse ; dat are a nateral f&c. By golly, but
dey was strange folks boff on em. Ki, dey must been gwine
stracted sure as jou born, when dey was decomposed (angry) wid
each other, to come all de way out here to fight. Lordy gracious,
peers to me crossin de sea might a cooled them, sposin dar hair
was rumpled." , : '

"You are right. Sorrow," said I; " and Doctor, niggers and
women often come to a right conclusion, though they cannot give
the right reasons for it, don't they 1"

" Oh, oh, Mr. Slick," said be, " pray don't class ladies and nig-
gers together. Oh, I thought you had more gallantry about you
than that."

" Exactly,'* sais I, " there is where the shoe pinches. You are
a so far and no further emancipationist. ' You will break up the
social system of the south, deprive the planter of his slave, and set

(rood in
The har*
\y in its
ew, and
If, being
irly sur-

nielan«

ion, con-

s of the

the few

the little

of the
gant edi-
it waved

TltK UEOALL.

327

>]ation of
ce egress
mient at
e; space
d vantage
k^ould ap-
nie from
t no one
to every
Anne, In-
antage to
re. The
to press

scription,
it sweet-
;olly, but
m swine
gry ) wid
gracious,
dar hair

;ers and
Qot give

and nig-
lout you

You are
i up the
, and set

the nigger free ; but you will not fldmit him to your family circle,
associate with him, or permit him to intermarry with your daugh-
ter. Ah, Doctor, you Crtn emancipate him, but you can't emanci-
£ate yourself You are willing to give him the liberty of a dog;
e may sleep in your stabl©, exercise himself in the coach-yard, and
may stand or run behind your carriage, but he must not enter the
house, for he is oflTensfv©, nor eat at your table, for the way he
devours his food is woliinh ; you unchain him, and that is all. But
before the collar was unfaitened he was well and regularly fed,
now he has to forage for ft ; and if he can't pay for his grub, he
can and will steal it Abolition hai done great things for him. He
was once a life-laborer on a plantation in the south, he is now a
prisoner for life in a penitentiary in the north, or an idle vagrant,
and a shameless, houiieless beggar. The fruit of cant is indeed bit-
ter. The Yankees emancipated their niggars because it didn't pay
to keep slaves. They now want the southern planters to liberate
theirs for conscience sake. But here we are on the beach ; let us
land."

After taking a survey of the scene from the sight of the old
town, we sat down on one of the eastern mounds, and the Doctor
continued his account of the place. " It tfjok the French twenty-
five years to erect Loulsburg," he said, "and though not completed
according to the original. design, it cost not less than thirty millions
of livres. It was environed, two miles and a half in circumference,
with a stone wall from thirty to thirty-six feet high, and a ditch
eighty feet wide. There was, as you will see, six bastions and
eight batteries, with embraiures for one hundred and furty-eighb
cannon. On the island, at the entrance of the harbor which we
just passed, was a battery of thirty twenty-eight pounders, and at
the bottom of the port another mounting thirty-eight heavy guns.
In 1745, a plan for taking it was conceived by a colonial-lawyer, a
Governor of Massachusetts, and executed by a body of New Eng-
land volunteers, led on by a country trader. History can hardly
furnish such another instance of courage and conduct in an undisci-
plined body, laying siege to a regular constructed fortress like this.
Commodore Warren, whm first applied to for assistance, declined
to afford it, as well because he had no orders as that he thought the
enterprise a rash one, He was, however, at last instructed from
home to co-operate with the Yankee troops, and arrived in season
to witness the progress of the siege, and receive the whole of the
honor which was so exclusively due to the provincials. This act
of insolence and injustice on the part of the British was never for-
gotten bv your countrymen, but the memory of favors is short-
lived, and a similar distribution of rewards has lately surprised and
annoyed the Canadians, The colonist who raised the militia and
saved Canada, M you have justly remarked elsewhere, was

hi,

•5*1

828

THE RECALL.

i?* I

ii., -

'I'

knighted, while he who did no more than his duty as an officer in
the army, was compensated for two or three little affairs in which
the soldiers were engaged, by a coronet and a pension."

" Exactly," says 1, " what's sauce for the goose ought to bo
sauce for the gander ; buf. it seems English geese are all swans."

" Well, in 1758, it was again taken by the English, who attacked
it with an immense and overpowering armament, consisting of 151
sail and 14,000 men. Profiting by the experience of the pro-
vincials, they soon reduced the place, which it is astonishing could
have made any resistance at all against such an overwhelming
force. Still, this attack was mostly an English one ; and though
it dwindles into utter insignificance, when compared with the pre-
vious capture by the colonists, occasioned a great outbreak of
national pride. The French colors were carried in pompous
parade, escorted by detachments of horse and foot-guards, with
kettle-drums and trumpets, from the palace of Kensington to St.
Paul's Cathedral, where they were deposited as trophies, under a
discharge of cannon, and other noisy expressions of triumph and
exultation. Indeed, the public rejoicings for the conquest of Lou-
isburg, were diffused through every part of the British dominions ;
and addresses of congratulation were presented to the king by a
great number of flourishing towns and corporations."

" Twenty-five years afterwards, the colonists who were denied
the credit of their gallant enterprise, made good their claim to it
by conquering those who boasted that they were the conquerors
themselves."

" I am glad to hear you say so. Doctor," said I, " for I concur
in it all. The English are liberal, but half the time they ain't just.
Spendin money in colonies is one thing, but givin them fair play is
another. The army complains that all commendation and promo-
tion is reserved for the staff. Provincials complain of similar
injustice, but there is this wide difference, the one has the Times
for its advocate, the other is unheard or unheeded. An honest
statesman will not refuse to do justice — a wily politician, will con-
cede with grace what he knows he must soon yield to compulsion.
The old Tory was a man afler all, every inch of him."

*' Now," sais the Doctor, " that i emark reminds me of what I
have long intended to ask you, if I got a chance. How is it, Mr.
Slick, that you, who are a republican, whenever you speak of Eng-
land, are so conservative? It always seemed to me as if it wam't
quite natural. If I didn't know you, I should say your books were
written by a colonist, who had used your name for a medium for
giving his own ideas."

" Well," scis 1, " Doctor, I am glad you asked me, for I have
thought myself it wasn't unlikely some folks would fall into that
mistake. I'll tell you how this comes, though I wouldn't take the

THE BEOALL.

829

officer in
in which

;ht to be
jwans."

attacked
Qg of 151

the pro-
ing could
lyhelming
d though
I the pre-
break of
pompous
,rds. with
on to St.
I, under a
imph and
t of Lou-
>minions ;
ting by a

re denied
laim to it
)nqueror3

• I concur
ain't just,
ir play is
id promo-
)f similar
;he Times
In honest
, will con-
mpulsion.

of what I
is it, Mr.
k of Eng-
' it wam't
)oks were
3dium for

3r I have

into that

t take the

trouble to enlighten others, for it kinder amuses me to see a fellow
find a mare's nest with a te hee's egg in it. First, I believe that a
republic is the only form of governmer.t suited to us, or practica-
ble in North America. A limited monarchy could not exist in
the states, for royalty and aristocracy never had an original root
there. A military or despotic one could be introduced, because a
standing army can do anything, but it couldn't last long. Liberty
IS too deeply seated, and too highly prized, to be suppressed for
any length of time.

" Now, I like a republic, but I hate a democracy. The wit of
man never could have devised anything more beautiful, better bal-
anced, and more skilfully checked, than our constitution is, or
rather was ; but every change we make is for the worse. I am,
therefore, a conservative at home. On the other hand, the Eng-
lish constitution is equally well suited to the British. It is admi-
rably adapted to the genius, traditions, tastes, and feelings of the
people. They are not fitted for a republic. They tried it once,
and they failed ; and if they were to try it again, it would not suc-
ceed. Every change thxy make is also for the worse. In talking,
therefore, as I do, I only act and talk consistently, when I say I am
a conservative abroad, also.

" Conservatism, both in the States and in Great Britain, when
rightly understood, has a fixed principle of action, which is to con-
serve the constitution of the country, and not subvert it. Now,
liberalism everywhere is distinguished by having no principle. In
England, it longs for office, and sacrifices everything to it. It does
nothing but pander. It says religion is a matter of taste, leave it
to itself and it will take care of itself — ^now that maxim was forced
on ua by necessity, for at the revolution we scarcely had an Episco-
pal church, it was so small as hardly to deserve the name. But, in
England, it is an unconstitutional, irrational, and monstrous maxim.
Still it suits the views of Romanists, (although they hold no such
doctrine themselves), for it is likely to hand over the church reven-
ues in Ireland to them. It also suits Dissenters, for it will relieve
them of church rates, and it meets the wishes of the republican
party, because they know no church and no bishop will soon lead
to no monarch. Again it says, enlarge the franchise, so as to give
an increase of voters ; that doctrine suits all those sections also,
for it weakens both monarchy and aristocracy. Then again it ad-
vocates free-trade, for that weakens the landed interest, and knocks
from under nobility one of its best pillars. To lower the influence
of the church- pleases all political come-outers, some for one, and
some for another reason. Their views are not identical, but it is
for their interest to unite. One advocates it because it destroys
Protestantism as a principle of the constitution, another because the
materials of this fortress, like those of Louisburg, may be useful
fur erecting others, and among them conventicles.

S80

THE BEOALti.

I'l

** Then there is no truth in liberalism. When Irish emancipation
was discussed, it was said, pass that and you will hear no more
grievances, it will tend to consolidate the church and pacify the
people. It was no sooner granted, than ten bishopricks were sup-
pressed, and monster meetings paraded through and terrified the
land. One cardinal came in place of ten Protestant prelates, and
so on. So liberalism said pass the Reform Bill, and all England
will be satisfied ; well, though it has not worked well for the king-
dom, it has done wonders for the radical party, and now another
and more extensive one is promised. The British Lion has been
fed with living raw meat, and now roars for more victims. It 'taint
easy to onseat liberals, I tell you, for they know how to pander.
If you promise power to those who have none, you must have the
masses with you. I could point you out some fellows that are sure
to win the dead* heads, the doughf boys, the numerous body that
is on the fence| and political " come outers."^ There is at this
time a postponed Reformed Bill. The proposer actually cried when
it was deferred to another session. It nearly broke his heart. He
couldn't bear that the public should have it to say, ' they had seen
tibe elephant.'

" Seeing the elephant," said the Doctor, " was he so large a man
as that?"

" Lord bless you," sais I, " no, he is a little man, that thinks he
pulls the wires, like one of Punch's small figures, but the wires
pull him, and set him in motion. It is a cant term we have, and
signifies ' going out for wool and coming back shorn.' Yes, he
actually shed tears, like a cook peelin onions. He reminded me
of a poor fellow at Slickville, who had a family of twelve small
children. His wife took a day, and died one fine morning, leaving
another youngster to complete the baker's dozen, and next week
that dear little innocent died too. He took on dreadfully about it.
He boo-hooed right out, which is more than the politicioner did
Over his chloroformed bill.

a i Why,' sais I, ' Jeddediah, you ought to be more of a man
than to take on that way. With no means to support your family
of poor helpless little children, with no wife to look ailer them^

* Dead heads may perhaps be best explained by substituting the words "the
unproductive class of operatives,*' such as spend their time in alehouses. Dem-
agogues, the men who, with free tickets, travel^in steam-boats, frequent thea-
tres, tavern-keepers, &c.

t Pliable politicians, men who are accessible to personal influences or consid-
erations.

t A man is said to be on a fence, who is ready to join the strongest party ;
because he who sits on a fence is in a position to jump down, with equal facility,
on either side of it.

^ ** Political come-outers," are the loose fish of all parties. Dissenters from
their own side. See Bartlett's definitions

THE BBOALL.

831

pation
more

anci no airthly way to pay a woman to dry nurse and starve the
unfortunate baby, it's a mercy it did die, and was taken out of this
wicked world.'

" ' I know it and feel it, Mr. Sam," said he, lookin up in a way
that nobody but him could look, ' but — .'

"'But what?' saisl.

" ' Why,' sais he, ' but it don't do to say so, you know.*

" Jist then some of the neighbors came in, when he burst out
wuss than before, and groaned like a thousand sinners at a camp
meetin.

"Most likely the radical father of the strangled reform bill eom-
forted himself with the same reflection, only he thought it wouldn*t
do to say so. Crocodiles can cry when they are hungry^ but when
they do it's time to vamose the poke-loken,* that's a fact. Yes,
yes, they understand these things to England, as well as we do,
you may depend. They warn't born yesterday. But I wont fol-
low it out. Liberalism is playing the devil both with us and the
British. Change is going on with railroad haste in America, but in
England, though it travels not so fast, it never stops, and like a
steam-packet that has no freight, it daily increases its rate of speed
as it advances towards the end of the voyage. Now you have ray
explanation. Doctor, why I am a conservative on principle, both at
home and abroad."

" Well," said the Doctor, " that is true enough as far as Eng>
land is concerned, but still I don't quite understand how it is, as a
republican, you are so much of a conservative at home, for your
reasons appear to me to be more applicable to Britian than to the
United States."

" Why," sais I, " my good friend, liberalism is the same thing
in both countries, though its work and tactics may be different. It
is destructive, but not creative. It tampers with the checks and
balances of our constitution. It flatters the people by removing
the restraints they so wisely placed on themselves to curb their
own impetuosity. It has shaken the stability of the judiciary by
making the experiment of electing the judges. It has abolished
equity in name, but infused it so strongly in the administration of
the law that the distinctive boundaries are destroyed, and the will
of the court is now substituted for both. In proportion as the
independence of these high oflicers is diminished, their integrity
may be doubted. Elected, and subsequently sustained by a fac-
tion, they become its tools, and decide upon party, and not legal
grounds. In like manner, wherever the franchise was limited, the
limit is attempted to be removed. We are, in fact, fast merging

i!|

* Poke-loken. a marshy place, or stagnant pool, connected with ft river.

882

THE BEOALL

II '

into a mere pure democracy,* for the first blow on the point of the
wedge that secures the franchise, weakens it so that it is sure to
come out at last. Our liberals know this as well as your British
Gerry manderers do."

*' Gerrymanderers,''f he said, " who in the world are they 1 I
never heard of them before."

" Why," sais I, " skilful politicians, who so arrange the electoral
districts of a state, that in an election one party may obtain an ad-
vantage over its opponent, even though the latter may possess a
majority of the votes in the state ; the truth is, it would be a long
itory to go through, but we are corrupted by our liberals with our
own money, that's a fact. Would you believe it now, that so long
ago as six years, and that is a great while in our history, seein' we
are growing at such a rate, there were sixty thousand offices in the
gift of the general government, and patronage to the extent of more
than forty million of dollars, besides official pickings and parqui-
•iteS) which are nearly as much more in the aggregate. Since then
it has grown with our growth. Or would you believe that a larger
sum is assessed in the city of New York, than would cover the
expenses of the general government of Washington. Constructive
mueage may be considered as the principle of the party, and
literally runs through everything."

" What strange terms you have, Mr." Slick," said he, " do, pray,
tell me what that is."

" Snooping and stool-pidgeoning," sais I.

^' Constructive mileage, snooping and stool-pidgeoning ! !" said
hC) and he put his hands on his ribs, and running lound in a circle,

* De Tocqueville, who has written incomparably the best work that has ever
appeared on the United States, makes the following judicious remarks on this
SUDJeet : " Where a nation modifies the elective qualification, it may easily be
foreseen, that sooner or later that qualification will be abolished. There is no
more invariable rule in the history of society. The farther electoral rights are
extended, the more is felt the need of extending them ; for after each conces-
iion, the strength of the democracy increases, and its demands increase with its
strength. The ambition of those who are below the appointed rate is irritated,
in exact proportion of the number of those who are above it. The exception
at iMt becomes the rule, concession follows concession, and no step can be
miide, short of universal suffrage.

t This term came into use in the year 1811, in Massachusetts, where, for
several years previous, the Federal and Democratic parties stood nearly equal.
In that year, tiie Democratic party, having a majority in the Legislature, deter-
mined so to district the State anew, that those sections which gave a large num-
ber of Federal votes, might be brought into one district. The result was, that
the Democratic party carried everything before them at the following election,
and filled every office in the State, although it appeared by the votes returned,
that nearly two-thirds of the votes were Federalists. Eldridge Gerry, a distin-
guished politician, at that period, was the inventor of that plan, which was
called gerrymandering, after him. — Glossary of Americanisms.

THE BECALL

883

; of the
jure to
British

ejl I

ectoral
aa ad-
ssess a
a long
rith our
so long
sein' we
s in the
of more
parqui-
ice then
a larger
>ver the
tructive
•ty, and

o, pray,

!!" said
a circle,

t has ever
:s on this
r easily be
lere is no
rights are
;h conces-
se with its
B irritated,
exception
ep can be

where, for
irly equal,
ure, deter-
arge num-
t was, that
g election,
returned,
f, a distin-
?\rhich was

laughed until he nearly fell on the ground fairly tuckered out,
*' what do you mean ?"

" Constructive mileage," sais I, " is the same allowance for
journeys supposed to be performed, as for those that are actually
made, to and from the seat of government. When a new President
comes into office, Congress adjourns, of course, on ihe third of
March, and his inauguration is made on the fourth ; the senate is
immediately convened to act on his nominations, and though not a
man of them leaves Washington, each is supposed to go home and
return again, in the course of the ten or twelve hours that intervene
between the adjournment and their reassembling. For this ideal
journey the senators are allowed their mileages, as if the journey
was actually made. In the case of those who come from a distance,
the sum often amounts, individually, to one thousand or fifteen
hundred dollars."

" Why, Mr. Slick," said he, « that ain't honest."

" Honest," said I ; who the plague ever said it was ; but what
can you expect from red republicans 1 Well, snooping means tak-
ing things on the sly after a good rummage, and stool-pidgeoning
means plundering under cover of law ; for instance, if a judge
takes a bribe, or a fellow is seized by a constable, and the stolen
property found on him is given up, the merciful officer seizes the
goods and lets him run, and that is all that is ever heard of it —
that is stool-pidgeoning. But now," sais I, " sposin' we take a sur-
vey of the place here, for in a ge!ieral way I don't affection politics,
and as for party leaders, whether English reformers or American
democrats, critters that are dyed in the wool, I hate the whole
caboodle of them. Now having donated you with my reasons for
being a conservative, sposin' you have a row yourself. What do
you consider best worth seeing here, if you <Saxi be said to see a
place when it don't exist ; for the English did sartainly deacon the
calf* here, that's a fact. They made them smell cotton, and gave
them partikilar moses, and no mistake."

" Of the doings of the dead," he said, " all that is around us has
a melancholy interest ; but of the living there is a most extraordi-
nary old fellow that dwells in that white house on the opposite side
of the harbor. He can tell us all the particulars of the two sieges,
and show us the site of most of the public buildings ; he is filled
with anecdotes of all the principal actors in the sad tragedies that
have been enacted here ; but he labors under a most singular mo-
nomania. Having told these stories so often, he now believes that
he was present at the first capture of the fortress, under Colonel
Pepperal and the New England militia, in 1745, and at the second
in 1754, when it was taken by Generals Amherst and Wolfe. I

* To deacon a calf^ is to knock a thing on the head ai soon as bom or finished.

834

THE BSCALIi.

^IV

[ ij

suppose he may be ninety years of age ; the first event must have
happened therefore nineteen, and the other, six years before he was
bom ; in everything else his accuracy of dates and details is per-
fectly astonishing."

" Massa," said Sorrow, " I don't believe he is nuffin but a ree-
blushionary suspensioner (a revolutionary pensioner), but it peers
dem folks do lib for ebber. My poor old Missus used to call 'em
King George's hard bargains, yah, yah, yah. But who come dere,
Massa?" said he, pointing to a boat, that was rapidly approaching
the spot where we stood.

The steersman, who appeared to be the skipper of a vessel, in-
quired for Cutler and gave him a letter ; — who said, as soon as he
had read it, " Slick, our cruise has come to a sudden termination.
Blowhard has purchased and fitted out his whaler, and only awaits
my return to take charge of her and proceed to the Pacific. With
his usual generosity, he has entered my name as the owner of one
half of the ship, her tackle and outfit. I must go on board the
* Black Hawk' immediately, and prepare for departing this
evening."

It was agreed that he should land the Doctor at Ship Harbor,
who was anxious to see Jessie, which made him as happy as a clam
at high-water, — and put me ashore at Jordan, where I was no less
in a hurry to see a fair friend whose name is of no consequence
now, for I hope to induce her to change it for one that is far shorter,
easier to write and remember ; and though I say it that shouldn't
say it, — one that, J consait, she needn't be ashamed of neither.

On our way back, suis the Doctor to me :

" Mr. Slick, will you allow me to ask you another question?"

" A hundred," sais I, " if you like."

" Well," sais he, " I have inquired of you what you think of
state affairs ; will you tell me what you think about the Church ?
I see you belong to what we call the Establishment, and what you
denominate the American Episcopal Church, which is very nearly
the same thing. What is your opinion now, of the Evangelical and
Puseyite parties ? Which is right, and which is wrong ?"

" Well," sais I, " coming to me about theology is like going to a
goat's house for wool. It is out of my line. My views on all sub-
jects are practical, and not theoretical. But first and foremost, I
must tell you, I hate all nick-names. In general, they are all a
critter knows of his own side, or the other either. As you have
asked me my opinion, though I will give it, I think both parties are
wrong, because both go to extremes, and are therefore to be
equally avoided. Our articles, as dear old Minister used to say, are
very wisely so worded as to admit of some considerable latitude
of opinion ; but that very latitude naturally excludes anything
ultra. The Puritanical section, and the Newmanites (for Pusey^

TUB RECALL,

835

it have
he was
is per-

t a ree-
t peers
5all 'em
le dere,
caching

ssel, in-
)Q as he
ination.
awaits
With
r of one
>ard the
ng this

Harbor,
s a clam
3 DO less
sequence
[ shorter,
shouldn't
ther.

tion?"

think of
Church 1
what you
•y nearly
elical and

oing to a
»n all sub-
remost, I
are all a
you have
arties aro
re to be
say, are
e latitude
anything
)r Pusey,

BO far, is steadfast), are not, in fact, real churchmen, and ought to
leave us. One are dissenters, and the other Romanists. The
ground they severally stand on is slippery. A false step takes one
to the conventicle, and the other to the chapel. If I was an Evan-
gelical, as an honest man, I would quit the Establishment, as Bap-
tist Noel did, and bo I would if I were a Newmanite. It's only
rats that consume the food and undermine the foundations of the
house that shelters them. A traitor within the camp is more to be
dreaded ihan an open enemy without. ^{ the two, the extreme
low-churchmen are the most dangerous, for they furnish the great-
est number of recruits for schism, and, strange to say, for popery
too. Search the list of those who have gone over to Rome, from
Ahab Meldrum to Wilberforce, and you will find the majority were
originally Puritans or infidels — men, who were restless, and ambi-
tious of notoriety — who had learning and talent, but wanted
common sense. They set out to astonish the world, and ended by
astonishing themselves. They went forth in pursuit of a name, and
lost the only one they were known by. Who can recognize New-
man in Father Ignatius, who, while searching for truth, embraced
error ? or Baptist Noel in the strolling preacher, who uses a horse-
pond instead of a font, baptizes adults instead of infants, and, unlike
his Master, * will not suffer little children to come unto him.* Ah,
Doctor, there are texts neither of these men know the meaning oil
' Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' One of them has yet to learn
that pictures, vestments, music, processions, candlesticks, and con-
fessionals are not religion ; and the other, that it does not consist
in oratory, excitement, camp-meetings, rant, or novelties. There
are many, very many, unobtrusive, noiseless, laborious, practical
duties which clergymen have to perform : what a pity it is they
won't occupy themselves in discharging them, instead of entangling
themselves in controversies on subjects not necessary to salvation !
But, alas ! the Evangelical divine, instead of combating the devil,
occupies himself in fighting his bishop; and the Newmanite,
instead of striving to save sinners, prefers to ' curse and quit his
church.' Don't ask me, therefore, which is right; I tell you they
are both wrong"
" Exactly," sais he.

** In medio tutissimus ibis."

" Doctor," sais I, " there are five languages spoke on the Nova
Scotia coast already : English, Yankee, Gaelic, French, and Indian ;
for goodness' gracious sake, don't fly off the handle that way, now,
and add Latin to them ! But, my friend, as I have said, you have
waked up the wrong passenger, if you think I am an ecclesiastical
Bradshaw. I know my own track. It is a broad gauge, and a

886

THE BEOALL.

straight line, and I never travel by another, for fear of being put on
a wrong one. Do you take 1 But here is the boat alongside ; "
and I shoolc him by the hand, and obtained his promise, at parting,
that he and Jessie would visit me at Slickville in the autumn.

And now, Squire, I must write finis to the cruise of the " Black
Hawk," and close my remarks on " Nature and Human Nature,"
or, " Men and Things ; " for I have brought it to a termination,
though it is a hard thing to do, I assure you, for I seem as if I
couldn't say farewell. It is a word that don't come handy, no how
I can fix it. It's like Sam's hat-band, which goes nineteen times
round, and won't tie at last. I don't like to bid good-bye to my
Journal, and I don't like to bid good-bye to you ; for one is like a
child, and the other a brother. The first I shall see again, when
Hurst has a launch in the spring ; but shall you and I ever meet
again. Squire ? that is the question, for it is dark to me. If it
ever does come to pass, there must be a considerable slip of time
first. Well, what can't be cured must be endured. So here goes.
Here is the last fatal word ; I shut my eyes when I write it, for I
can't bear to see iU Here it is

Ampersand.

i
1

THE END.

■iv '•),«• *

f put on

gside ; "

parting,

tin.

" Black

Mature,"

lination,

1 as if I

no how
m times
e to my
is like a
n, when
er meet
e. If it
of time
are goes.

it, for I

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SAM SLICirS YANKEE COURTSHIP.

" RECENTLY PUBLISHED,

WISE SAWS;

'3*^'

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■y..-.:'! «'

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i
1

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1.1

Sjlract ftom tfie Uteface :

* * * * Van has no limitii. It is like the human nee and fkee ; there Is a
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duce new varieties. A man who has an eye for fan sees it in everything. * * «
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many fellows get taken in when they go for to swap hearts with them T Besides;
any one ean find a gentleman that keeps a livery stable to get him a hone to order,
but who ean say, ' This is the Gall for your money!' "

Introductory Letter,
Chat witli the President.
StealinK a Speech,
ETerythidK in General, and

Nothing in Particular,
The Black Hawk : or Life

in a Fore-and-After,
Old Blowhard,
The Widow'* Son.
The Language of Mackerel,
The Best-natured Man in

the World.

CONTENTS.

The Bait-Box,

The Water>GIau;oraDa7-

Dream of Life,
Old Sarsaparilla Fills.
Oar Colonies and Sailon.
The House that Hope Built
The House without Hope,
An Old Friend with a New

Face,
Chat in a Calm,
The Sable Island Ghost.

The Witch of Eskisoony,
Jericho beyond Jordan.
Three Truths ior One Lie,
Aunt Thankful k herRoom
A Single Idea,
An Excellent Ran of Re>

form.
Goose Van Dam.
A Hot Day,
A Pic'Nic at La Haire,
A Narrow Escape.

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ty, N. T.,

ME M}®iE^

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From the ma(l«r ftimflh«d by ttl«i« attthors, the publishers of " Otra Horbt-
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''■\

r 4

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AnnooDcement to the American People, ii f%

MOW FUBUBHIKO A NKW AND mPBOYKD BDmOir OV ^

4^ TflE ENURE WORKS OP * .

J. FENIMORE COOPER,

With all his Latest Corrections and Revisions, entiitlad

5h ;.^.». The People's Edition/ ^

WrrH AN KLABOBATB UFX OF THK ADTHOB, IN ONB UNIFOBM yOLVlli.

A Tolnme will be published on the 1st and 16th of every month
until the series is completed. Elegantly printed on suj)e<
rior paper, manufactured expressly for this edition, and bouna in
embossed cloth, in a tasteful and uniform style, ^ce for each
volume, one dollar.

Since the death of our illustrious novelist, the author of "The
Spy," his merits have been largely canvassed by the critics of all
countries^ and his rank may now be considered as definitely settled ;
it is agreed that be is not only the obeatbst and most national of
our own writers, but that he is of the class of Cei*vante8y Le Sage,
Shakspeare, Goethe, and Scott, whose displays of genius in literature
entitle them to a universal aud immortal popularity.

Tub Pbople'b EninoN will be issued on paper of the same size add
quality as that used for the beautiful edition of the works of Irvino,
and in a similar style of binding, and the volumes will be sold at the
extremely low price of one douar each, which is 20 per cent lower
than that of the works of any copyright author, presented in the
same excellent manner. The volumes will be published on the
viBST aud FiFTKBNTH of every month, commencing with the month of
Dbqbiibbk, until the entire series is completed, making in allTHiair-

rOVB YOLUKES.

This carefully revised edition will be more handsomely printed
than any of the preceding editidns. Th4 sehii-monthly mode of
publication has been adopted as the best method of biinging it wiLhin
the reabh of all classes ; — thus affording to the less affluent an oppor-
txmity to avail themselves of the privilege of securing, for a vel^y
moderate sum, the most beautiful afid most perfect set of the Cov-
riiBTB WoBKS or J. Fbndiobe Coopbb that has yet appeared.

**The endnring monnmenta of Fenimore Cooper ats his works. While the love
of eotiibtry oonUnueii to prevail his memory wifi exist in the hearts of the people.
* * * So traly patriotio and American tbronghoat, and .throughout, they should
find aplaoe ia every American's library."— Daniel Wibsikb.

" Ui» writings a^ instinot with the spirit of nationality. In his prodnotionB every
Aoderloah must tdte aii honest prido. For saiely no ono has snocesded like Cooper
fei the portraitiue of American character, or has stven snoh glowing ^d eminently
trutbftil pictures of American aoonery."— Wm. H. PfittCxtft.

vnaSQSBL * I0W:N8END, PabUdienL SJKSl Iraulwiiyi IT.' T.

■jn i^» -.^-t ip^

3 1326;f[3cv

II People.

lONOV

PER,

ome, entitlvd ik

llfOBM yoLUHk

of every montli
)rinted on 8upe<
ion, and bound in
e. Price for each

5 author of "The
'the critics of all
definitely settled ;

most NATIONAL of

srvantesi Le Sage,
genius in literature

'the same size atid
e works of Ibvino,
will be sold at the.
20. per cent, lower
presented in the
published oh the
jfith the month of
king in allTHiBir-

landsotnely printed
L-motitbly mode of
f bringing it within
i affluent an oppor-
icuring, for a vefy
3ct set of the Coir-
ppeared.

Toiks. While the love
le hearts of the people.,
hroughont, they should

[nhisprodnotions evei^j
I Baoeeeded like Cooper
glowing ^d eminenUy