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Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Un des symboles suivant* •pparifffi §Uf li dernlAre image de cheque m\§r9l\§h§, 0#l9n i§ cas: le symbole -ft^ signifia "A fUlVfll"; (• symbole V signifie "FIN", Les cartes, planches. tablMUN; »%§„ ptyvifH lire f llmte d des taux de riduetlen iffffdrtftlf; Lorsque le document est trop §r§n4 p§W itra reprodult en un seul clichd, M ffft fHm# t ptftif de I'angle supArleur gauche, 4§ §§U§h§ A 4fOH§, et de haut en bas. en prenaiH l9 nembff d'images n«cessaire. Let dlUflrammM f uiViAt« illustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 8 6 H ^^ 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 i ▲ s CLi: UN] AC / .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 76 CHAPTER VII. FIDDLING, AND DANCING, AND SERYINO THE DEVIL... CHAPTER Vni. STITOHINa A BUTTON-HOLE 95 107 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 . 7 y CHAPTER XIV. , t. . .._....«-. FEMALE COLLEGES 182 CHAPTER XV. -■ > - ,- • * . Ji - ■ • ■ • - GIPSEYINO „.........'. 198 .. 76 95 .. 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 /( ■^'^ ■:./: & .■^.'1 •».; ^vrlf .Jfetl*^ t • V "t- f ■ ' , r'»'u:+'*»,. , « ♦-;* , , , -^ , - - i- •.-.■^*--'**-»^-^»« *v.J *'-.- ,k. '. J.iv'^f '■* s f A ,;,',;, . ■« t) -- ,* - ! / «i*i' « », •• - .» « i4 4 '- f • * 'i-'U >-*■»?, .... .*•■- y. » i I ■ ; ' .' .' . : I •„• « v'..^ 4 ■■'i^ '^)«- '^'- v- A^ «'ir <«- ' , J" ..A.-'. (-■; i :? "'.V'^ti- t^jiii.^y ■'. .' ''■■ "■ . = ' —r' ■ , > 7' , . . - •• j-:« . ^. - -^ ^iv ?.> (F.**-- ,*.lj r,.,c-. ..rv^ I ^i ., • >, * / // ■^ ''1r-^^"^'-i -Vr^^^ ^: ir-=i# :f. 'v-rti .it* .iii. ■■ ■'. «i ■ f ? ;.f^,.„>"6 <^ r.:.^/ ,' I • .*^' "•««♦?,, 1 •- 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«. u 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. ii 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.' 'A ▲ 8UBPBI8E. 't / " 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. 17 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 18 ▲ ftFBPBISB. I ^ 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. 1% 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 m 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» n ▲ 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. V, 2 ^. 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 - After. fpme heslfi 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 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 24 -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. m • :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. m OLIPPKBB AND STEAICEBS, I 1 I i / i. hi ' 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«. r 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 90 OllFPEBS AITD STEAMBBS. 1/ 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 (u 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\. . ' r 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- v\ bo| to dij is buj no^ so ■* 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- r 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 I .f^ J * Calaboose is k Southern name for jail. 2* !' ,«.v„ !:'i i9 I i % m 84 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 m OLIPPEBS AND STEAMERS. 85 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. 8T 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 ( Hi just C4I • UNLOOKIRO ▲ WOHAn'I^ HXABT. 8» V\ " 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." 40 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. k \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 4d 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 1 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? u UNLOOEINO A WOMAN'S HEABT. I 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^ 46 ITNLOOKING ▲ WOMAN'b HEABT.. lA i i' I 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, (( m UNLOCKING A WOMAN'S ilEABT. 47 186 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 m 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 v> 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. 51 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^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. 67 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 'I AND BUT ONE VICE. 59 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 m Ml 60 A. OBITTUB WITH A THOUSAND TIBTUE8 ii 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. 61 and *An. 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 62 ▲ 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. i' -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.' 63 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." *;*^.. -^ 64 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. 65 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 ' 6B ▲ KBW WAT TO LSABN GASLIO. ill 1 1' i! ; It 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. 67 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 68 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. 69 >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." 4 -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 72 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 fi A NEW WAT TO LBASN OABtXC. m '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'* 1 I If s a % a f r ) 1. m THE WOUNDS OF THE BBABT. 7D 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» 78 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. 77 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 ]" i 78 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. 79 ?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. a 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 80 THE WOITKDB OF THE HEART* m 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* I 82 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 84 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. 85 ^ "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 86 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 m 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.' 88 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. 89 -nd beggin* ig. 'No, I iddaughter, ime to the It?' twenty-five T im, but he would you r 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- 90 THB WOUNDS OF THE HEA.BT. i II " 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. 91 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 92 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. it THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART. 03 " "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 1. » 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. 96 I \ 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, 96 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., 5 ■i'l ^, ^iL^f^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I i 1.0 1.1 B^IM |Z5 !!: |4£ 12.0 IL25 i 1.4 nml 1.6 ^ ^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WUSTIR.N.Y. 14StO (71«) •73-4503 ^. ^' '^ 9S 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. IT 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 horseose, 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 I 118 8TIT0HINO A BVTTON*HOLE. § "! ( if '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. I 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 w 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 mm ■|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 if . 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 Mi ) :.i 128 THB PLUBAL 07 MOOSE. t '■\ 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 I TBB PLUBAL OF XOOBS. 1^ 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 M I ^ n" 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. Ki 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. 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. J 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 1 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'* T P 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 ', It 5 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. I * 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, us 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 m •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 1 ' li: 1 ! ||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* M ami 164 ▲ DAY ON THE LAKE. 15^ ill 1 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 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 I 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 ; i 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 u m m efore, per- otes. Was u so ? Oh '^e the repe IS perfectly t, and pro- bars, " it's aail-coaches when they I 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 If I '' 1 I 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 t( this « <( «( i< u u u • ta hi «( rical there with "Th< only Pe remo there letter to the bougl unciv didn't her o^ retire "P 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 I. .V- 166 THB BETROTHAL. 1 * 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 . 1^ «!? ■ 108 THE BBT9QTHAL. I 1 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 P ft iro A FOGGT Kiaiir, i 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. in 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." 1 one Will Well, one fo — it a buys Is tha me al( the lei all, he them woul( A FOOOY NIGHT. 173 ac 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 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=,* S 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 m 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. n " 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!' .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. %.■ . r pi 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 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.:., n 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.' M IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 itt lii 12.2 2.0 Hi 140 U IL6 Photographic Sciences Corporation fe ^^ 4(>^ V <^ ^ ^ 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WUSTIR.N.Y. USM (716) •72-4503 ;\ k ^ K*^ 'f ^ h 6^ k 192 FBKALB 0OLLSOE8. il -11 B 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 A * 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 I 1^ FEHAL8 OOLLBOB8. ^*-< mM !!';■ .^'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 p »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 'X 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 Hi t 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, 9* 209 6IP0BTINO My. m I- it < . ,\' %> .,.:;• 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 of wn 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 it 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, 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. r. ( '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 MU 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, ■ p5 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. i 214 THB WOBLD BEFOBE THB FLOOD. d' a. 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. ' ir 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 I " * 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. mi I i m 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