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Additional comments:/ Commentairea supplimentaires: Varioui pagingi. Tl to L'Institut a microfiimt la mailleur exemplaire qu'il lui a *t4 poaaibia de aa procurer. Lea ditaiis da cet exemplaire qui aont paut-Atre uniquaa du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dana la mAthode normale de filmaga aont indiquAa ci-daaaous. r~Ji Coloured pagea/ Pagea da coulaur Pages damaged/ Pages endom magmas Pages restored and/oi Pages reataurAea at/ou pallicultes I — I Pages damaged/ I — I Pages restored and/or laminated/ 7\ P>)ges discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d. The Wanderer. C*>mplete iu two volumes, paper cover. Price One Dol- lar ; or in oue vol., cloth, for $1.2j. The Rival Beantics. By Miss Panloe. Complete iu one large octavo volume. _Price Fifty ceut.s. Romance of the Harem. Bj Jliss Pardee. Complete in oue large octavi/ volume. Price Fifty cents. Thp. whole of 9ip. liljove Five works are (ih-i, hound in clnth, gilt, in one large octaco volutne. Price $2.00. S GREAT WORKS. The Ija^vyer's Story; or, The Orphan's ^Vrou^'s. Two vols., paper cover. Price Ouo Dollar ; or bound in one volume, cloth, for $1.25. Sartaroe. A Tale of Norivay. lliirhly recommcuiied by Washington Irvinir. Complete iu two volumes, pa- per cover. Price One Dollar ; or bound iu oue volume, cloth, for $1.25. (\) Copies of any of the above Works will be sent by Mail to any one, Free (^ ^ of Postage, on mailing the Price in a letter to Peterson & Brothers, t* i v J' .-is****'' .^ IN THE WRONG ROOM. , k M IS L I C K. < * i ' K M A K I:: i'. . JJ ;V ■' -i *• \ ■.•^ ■■ ji ^, ^ • t •i ' -1 f r-^B \ ')• :h ?# t"!:^ :f-. i| i ' ■ . . ''?•'■ ■'r-'>i. ^; •• I \M -SAM SLICK, S\v.i J," -rI "^ ?!?|*! W"Gf*;^«.r tw^*x>tfjm 1^ SAM SLICK; TIIR CLOCKMAKER. .^mmm^foi. 'u* <( I AM SAM^SLICK, SAYS I." T. B. PETERSON, No. 306 CHESTNUT STREET. ( T. SAM SLICK; THB CLOCKMAKEE. BT JUDGE HALIBURTON. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. TWO VOLUMES COMPLETE IN ONE. pt)ilabelf)l)ia: T. B. PETERSON, NO. 306 CHESTNUT STREET. GIRARD BUILDINGS, ABOVE THIRD. Ps.gs/S' A 3? S3 /^S'i' ■» firsi SCO' the] pap part the acce of la shap ,;fi'. J *• # ADVERTISEMENT The following Sketches, as far as the twenty first chapter, originally appeared in the "Nova- scotian" Newspaper. The great popularity they acquired, induced the Editor of that paper to apply to the Author for the remaining part of the series, and permission to publish the whole entire. This request having been acceded to, the Editor has now the pleasure of laying them before the public in their present shape. ! - CO '^'^s. 0^ >-^#eiip' 25. -% CONTENTS OF PART FIRST. Cta,itef ftp Slick 3 Letter 7 1. The Trotting Horse .*. 11 2. The Clockmakcr 15 3. The Silent Girls 19 4. Conversations at the River Philip 22 5. Justice Pettifog 25 6. Anecdotes 28 7. Go Ahead 31 8. The Preacher that wandered from his Text 35 9. Yankee Eating and Horse Feeding 40 10. The Road to a Woman's Heart— The Broken Heart 45 11. Cumberland Oysters produce melancholy forebodings 50 12. The American Eagle 55 13. The Clockmaker's Opinion of Halifax 63 14. Sayings and Doings in Cumberland 63 15. The Dancing Master Abroad 72 16. Mr. Slick's Opinion of the British 78 17 A Yankee Handle for a Halifax Blade 84 18. The Grahamite and the Irish Pilot 90 19. The Clockmaker quilts a Blue Nose 96 20. Sister Sail's Courtship 101 21. Setting up for Governoif 106 22. A Cure for Conceit 114 23. The Blowin Time . . 120 24. Father John O'Shaughnessy 124 25. Taming a Shrew 137 26. The Minister's Horn Mug 137 27. The White Nigger 143 28. Fire in the Dairy ., 148 29. A Body without a Head 153 30. A Talc of Bunker's Hill 158 31. Gulling a Blue Nose 163 32. Too many Irons in the fire ... 1C8 33. Windsor and the Far West 17» 1 * . <*^ foi wi isl To S I ail used gent and a na the! (tolla trad( hav*i am ] myo there and 1 word come mind cleve and . If m^ SUCK'S LETTER. .After thete Sketches had gone through the presa, and were ready for publication, we sent Mr. Slick a copy ; and shortly after- wards received from him the following letter, which characttr* istic communication we give entire. — Editor.] To Mr. Howe. Sir, — I received your letter, and note its contents. I aint over half pleased, I tell you; I think I have been used scandalous, that's a fact. It vvrarn't the part of a gentleman for to go and pump me arter that fashion, and then go right off and blart it out in print. It was a n£isty, dirty, mean action, and I don't thank you nor the Squire a bit for it It will be more nor a thousand dollars out of my pocket. There's an eend to the Clock trade now, and a pretty kettle of fish I've made on it, hav'nt n I shall never hear the last on it, and what am I to say when I go back to the States ? I'll take my oath I never said one-half the stuff he has set down there ; and as for that long lochrum about Mr. Everett, and the Hon. Alden Gobble, and Minister, there aint a word of truth in it from beginnin to eend. If ever I come near hand to him agin, I'll larn him — but never mind, I say nothin. Now there's one thing I don't cleverly understand. If this here book is my *Sayins and Doins,* how comes it youm or the Squire's either? [f my thoughts and notions are my own, l^ow can they (7) • •• mi SLICK'S LETTER. ili |.!iii be any other folks's? According to my idet you havti no more right to take them, than you have to take my clocks without payin for 'cm. A man that would be guilty of such an action is no gentleman, that's flat, and if you don't like it, you may lump it — for I don't valy him, nor you neither, nor are a blue-nose that ever stept in shoe-leather, the matter of a pin's head. I don't know as ever I felt so ugly afore since I was raised ; why didn't he put his name to it, as well as mine ? When an article han't the makrr's name and factory on it, it shows it's a cheat, and he's ashamed to own it. If I'm to have the name, I'll have the game, or I'll know the cause why, that's a fact. Now folks say you are a considerable of a candid man, and right up and down in your dealins, and do things above board, handsum — at least so I've hearn tell. That's what I like; I love to deal with such folks. Now s'pose you make me an offer ? You'll find me not very difficult to trade with, and I 'don't know but I might put off more than half of the books myself tu. I'll tell you how I'd work it. I'd say, * Here's a book they've namesaked arter me, Sam Slick, the Clockmaker, but it tante mine, and I can't altogether jist say riglitly whose it is. Some say it's the General's, and some say it's the Bishop's, and some says it's Howe himself; but I aint availed who it is. It's a wise child that knows its own father. It wipes up the blue-noses considerable hard, and don't let off the Yankees so very easy nei- ther, but it's generally allowed to be about the prettiest oook ever writ in this country , and although it ain Itogether jist gospel what's in it, there's some pretty home truths in it, that's a fact. Whoever wrote it must be a funny feller, too, that's sartin : for there ai« i3 •1 6onn that Itsn slick's lktter. ^ some queer stories in it that no soul could help larfin at, that's a fact. It's about the wittiest book I ever seeVl. Its nearly all sold off, but jist a few copies I've kept for my old customers. The price is just 5s, Gd.y but I'll let you have it for 55., because you'll not get another chance to have one.' Always ax a sixpence more than the price, and then bate it, and when blue-nose heai that, he thinks he's got a bargain, and bites directly I never see one on 'em yet that didn't fall right into the trap. Yes, make me an offer, and you and I will trade, 1 think. But fair play's a jewel, and I must say I feel ryled and kinder sore. I han't been used handsum atween you two, and it don't seem to me that I had ought to be made a fool on in that book, artcr that fashion, for folks to laugh at, and then be sheered out of the spec. If I am, somebody had better look out for squalls, I tell you. I'm as easy as an old glove, but a glove aint an old shoe to be trod on, and I think a cer- tain person will find that out afore he is six months older, or else I'm mistakened, that's all. Hopin to heai fiom you soon, I remain yours to command, SAMUEL SLICK. Pvgnose's Inut River Philip^ Dec. 25, 1836. am petty fce it P. S. I see in the last page it is writ, that the Squire to take another journey round the Shore, and bac to Halifax with me next Spring. Well, I did agree with him, to drive him round the coast, but don't you mind — we'll understand each other, I guess, afore we stait. I concait he'll rise considerable airly in the & slick's lbttbr. mornin, afore he catches mc asleep agin. Pll be wide awake for him next hitch, that's a fact. Pd a ginn a thousand dollars if he had only used Campbell's name instead of mine ; for he was a most an almighty villain, and cheated a proper raft of folks, and then shipped himself off to Botany Bay, for fear folks would transport him there ; you couldn't rub out Slick, and put in Camp- bell, could you ? that's a good feller ; if you would I'd make it worth your while, you may depend ■j> - i:h i THE CLOCKMAKEU CHAPTER I. THE TROTTING HORSE. I WAS always well mounted : I am fond of a horic^ and always piqued myself on having the fastest trotter m the Province. I have made no great progress in the world ; 1 feel doubly, therefore, the pleasure of not being surpassed on the road. I never feel so well or so cheerful as on horseback, for there is something exhilarating in quick mo- tion ; and, old as I am, I feel a pleasure in making any per- son whom I meet on the way put his horse to the full gallop, to keep pace with my trotter. Poor Ethiope ! you recollect him, how he was wont to lay back his ears on his arched neck, and push away from all competition. He is done, poor fellow I the spavin spoiled his speed, and he now roams at large upon * my farm at Truro.' Mohawk never failed me till this summer. I pride myself, (you may laugh at such childish weak- ness in a man of my age,) but still, I pride myself in taking the conceit out of coxcombs I meet on the road, and on the ease with which I can leave a fool behind, whose nonsense disturbs my solitary musings. On my last journey to Fort Lawrence, as the beautiful view of Colchester had just opened upon me, and as I was contemplating its richness and exquisite scenery, a tall thin man, with hollow cheeks and bright twinkling black eyes, on a good bay horse, somewhat out of condition, overtook me ; and drawing up, said, I guess you starte early this morning. Sir? I did Sir, I replied. You did no come from Halifax, I presume. Sir, did you? in a dialect too rich to be mistaken as g-enuine Yankee. And which (11) \ I« TUB CLOCKMAKER. way may you be travelling? asked my inquisitive ccm naniini. lo Fort Lawrence. Ah! said he, so am I, it is in mif circuit. The word circuit sounded so professional, I boki'd again at him, to ascertain whether I had ever seen him jjelbrc;, or whether I had met with one of those name- less, hut innumerable limbs of the law, who now flourish in every district of the Province. There was a keenness about his eye, and an acuteness of expression, much in favour of the law ; but the dress, and general bearing of the man, made against the supposition. His was not tho coat of a man who can afford to wear an old coat, nor was it one of ' Tempests and Morc's,' that distinguish country lawyers from country boobies. Ilis clothes were well made, and of good materials, but looked as if their owner had shrunk a little since they were made for him ; they hung somewhat loose on him. A large brooch, and some su. perfluous seals and gold keys, which ornamented his outward man, looked * New England' like. A visit to the States had, perhaps, I thought, turned this Colchester beau into a Yankee fop. Of what consequence was it to me who he was — in either case I had nothing to do with him, and I desired neither his acquaintance nor his company— Btill I could not but ask myself who can this man be ? I am not aware, said I, that there is a court sitting at this time at Cumberland 1 Nor am I, said my friend. What then could he have to au with the circuit 1 It occurred to me he must be a Methodist preacher. I looked again, but his appearance again puzzled me. His attire might do — the colour might be suitable — the broad brim not out of place J but there was a want of that staidness of look, that seriousness of countenance, that expression, in short, so characteristic of the clergy. I could not account for my idle curiosity — a curiosity which, in him, I had the moment before viewed both with suspicion and disgust ; but so it was — I felt a desire to kno\f who he could be who was neither lawyer nor preacher, an yet talked of his circuit with the gravity of both. How ridiculous, I thought to myself, is this ; I will leave him. Turning towards him, I said, I feared I should be late for breakfast, and must therefore bid him good morning. Mo nawk felt the pressure of my knees, and away we went a- THE THOTTINO HORSfi. 18 ■ slappin;: pnrc I congratulated myself on conquering my own curiosity, nnd on avoiding that of my travelling r()m|)Miii«)u. I'liis, 1 siiid to myself, this is the value of & g()0(l horst! ; I p.'itfcd lii:-i urcU — I ll-lt proud of him. Pre- Kcnfly i h''ar(l fho steps of the uiikuown's horse — the clatter increased. Ah, my friend, tiiou^ht 1, it won't do; you should he well uiounfed if you desire my company; piishfil Mohawk latter, faster, liisfer — to his hest. lie out- did liimsrif; lie had never trotted so haudsomely — so easily — so well. I j^uess that is a pretty considerable smart horse, said the stranj^jer, as he came beside me, and api)arently reined m to prev<'nt his hoix; pnssiujr tne ; there is not, 1 rcckorf, HO spry a one on my vircvit. Circvity or no circuity one thing was settled in my mind ; he; was a Yaidcee, and a very impertinent Vankeo too. I felt humbled, my pride was hurt, and Mohawk was beaten. To continue this trotting contest was humi- liating; 1 yielded, therefore, before the victory was palpa- ble, and pulled uj). Yes, continued he, a horse of pretty considerable good action, and a pretty fair trotter, too, I guess. Pride must have a fall — 1 confess mine was prostrate in the dust. 'J'hese words cut me to the heart. VVhat ! is it come to this, poor Mohawk, that you, tht; admiration of all but the envious, the great Mohawk, the standard by which all other horses are measured — trots next to Mohawk, only yields to Mohawk, looks like Mohawk — that you are, after all, only a counterfeit, and pronounced by a straggling Yankee to be merely * a pretty fair trotter I' If he was trained, I guess that he might be made do a little more. Excuse me, but if you dividf; your weight between the knee and the stirrup, rather most on the knee, nnd rise forward on the sacklle so as to leave a little day- light between you and it, I hope I may never ride this circuit agai?i, if you don't get a mile more an hour out of him. What! not enough, I mentally groaned, to have my horse beaten, but I must be told that I don't know how to ride him ; and that, too, by a Yankee — Ay, there's thp rub— a Yankee what? Perhaps a half-bred puppy, half |4 THE CLOGKMAKEIU Yankee, half blue-nose. As there is no escape, I'll try to make out my riding master. Your circuit, said I, my looks expressing all the surprise they were capable of-^ your circuit, pray what may that be ? Oh, said he, the eastern circuit — I am on the eastern circuit, sir. I have heard, said 1, feeling that I now had a lawyer to deal with; that there is a great deal of business on this circuit — Pray, are there many cases of importance 1 There is a pretty fair business to be done, at least there has been, but the cases are of no great value — we do not make much out ot them, we get them up very easy, but they don't bring much profit. What a beast, thought I, is this ; and what £f curse to a country, to have such an unfeeling, petti fogging rascal practising in it — a horse-jockey, too — what a finished character ! I'll try him on that branch of his business. That is a superior animal you are mounted on, said I — I seldom meet one that can travel with mine. Yes, said he eoolly, a considerable fair traveller, and most particular good bottom. I hesitated ; this man who talks with such unblushing effrontery of getting up cases, and making pro- fit out of them, cannot be offended at the question — yes, I will put it to him. Do you feel an inclination to part with him ? I never part with a horse, sir, that suits me, said ho — I am fond of a horse — I don't like to ride in the dust after every one I meet, and I allow no man to pass me but when I choose. Is it possible, I thought, that he can know me ; that he has heard of my foible, and is quizzing me, or have I this feeling in common with him ? But, continued I, you might supply yourself again. Not on this circuity I guess, said he, nor yet in Campbell's circuit. Campbell's circuit— tray, sir, what is that 1 That, said he, is the western — and .ampton rides the shore circuit ; and as for the people on the shore, they know so little of horses, that Lampton tells nie, a man from Aylesford once sold a hornless ox there, whose tail he had cut and nicked, for a horse of the Goliath breed. I should think, said I, that Mr. Lampton must ha\e no lack of cases amonir such onliirhtcncd clients. Clients, sir ! said mj friend, Mr. Lampton is not a lawyer. 1 beg pardon, f thought you said ho rode the circuit. We call it circuit, said the stranger, who seemed by no means flat* III! TklB CLOCK J14KBR. 1ft eered by the mistake — we divide the Province, as in the AJ- inanack, into circuits, in each of which we separately carry on our b'isiness of manufacturing and selling clocks. There are few, I guess, said the Clockmaker, who go upon tick as much as we do, who have so little use for lawyers ; if attorneys could wind a man up again, afler he has been fairly run down, I guess they M be a pretty harmless sor of folks. This explanation restored my good humour, and as t could not quit my companion, and he did not feel disposed to leave me, I made up my mind to travel with him to Fort Lawrence, the limit of his circuit* _?■■ CHAPTER II. THE CLOCKMAKER. I HAD heard of Yankee clock pedlars, tin pedlars, and bible pedlars, especially of him who sold Polyglot Bibles Call in English) to the amount of sixteen thousand pounds The house of every substantial farmer had three substantial ornaments, a wooden clock, a tin reflector, and a Polyglot Bible. How is it that an American can sell his wares, a. whatever price he pleases, where a blue-nose would fail to make a sale at all ? I will inquire of the Clockmaker the secret of his success. What a pity it is, Mr. Slick, (for such was his name) what a pity it is, said I, that you, who are so successful in teaching these people the value of clocks, could not also teach them the value of time. 1 guess, said he, they have got that ring to grow on their horns yet, which every four year old has in our country. We reckon hours and minutes to be dollars and cents. They do nothing in these parts but oat, drink, smoke, sleep, ride about, lounge at taverns make speeches at temperance meetings, and talk abou " House of Assembly.'*'' If a man don't hoe his corn, an he don't hoc a crop, he says it is all owing to the Bunk .n 16 THE CLOCKMAKER. and if he runs into debt and is sued, wb/ he says the law yers are a curse to the country. They arc a most idle set of folks, I tell you. But how is it, said I, that you manage to sell such ao immense number of clocks, (which certainly cannot be called necessary articles) among a people with whom them seems to be so great a scarcity of money ? Mr. Slick paused, as if considering the propriety of dn swering the question, and looking me in the face, said, in a confidential tone, Why, I don't care if I do tell you, for the market is glutted, and I shall quit this circuit. It is don© by a knowividge of soft sawder and human natur. But hero is Deacon Flint's, said he, I have but one clock left, and 1 guess I will sell it to him. At the gate of a most comfortable looking farm house stood Deacon Flint, a respectable old man, who had under- stood the value of time better than most of his neighbours, if one might judge from the appearance of every thing about him. After the usual salutation, an invitation to " alight" was accepted by Mr. Slick, who said, he wished to take leave of Mrs. Flint before he left Colchester. We had hardly entered the house, before the Clockmaker pointed to the view from the window, and, addressing him* self to me, said, if I was to tell them in Connecticut, ther«» was such a farm as this away down east here in Nova Sco- tia, they wouldn't believe me — why there aint such a locatiop in all New England. The deacon has a hundred acres of dyke — Seventy, said the deacon, only seventy. Well seventy ; but then there is your fine deep bottom, why J could run a ramrod into it — Interval, we call it, said th^ Deacon, who, though evidently pleased at this eulogium seemed to wish the experiment of the ramrod to be tried ip the right place — Well, interval if you please, (though Pro- fessor Eleazar Cumstick, in his work on Ohio, calls thero bottoms,) is just as good as dyke. Then there is that watei privilege, worth 3,000 or 4,000 dollars, twice as good as what Governor Cass paid 15,000 dollars for. I wonder. Deacon, you don't put up a carding mill on it: the same works would carry a turning lathe, a shingle machine, a circular saw, grind bark, and . Too old, sfiid tho Deacon, too old for all those speculations — Old, repeated h» ill li THE CLOCKMAKER. 17 Olockmaker, not you ; why you are worth half a dozen of the young men we see novv-a-days ; you are young enough to have — here he said something in a lower tone of voice, which I did not distinctly hijar; but whatever it was, the Deacon was pleased, he smiled and said he did not think of such things now. But your beasts, dear me, your beasts must be put in and have a feed ; saying which, he went out to order them to be taken to the stable. As the old gentleman closed the door after him, Mr. Slick drew near to me, and said in an under tone, that is what I call " soft sawder." An Englishman would pass that man as a sheep passes a hog in a pasture, without looking at him ; or, said he, looking rather archly, if he was mounted on a pretty smart horse, I guess he'd trot away, if he could. Now I find — Here his lecture on " soft sawder" was cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Flint. Jist come to say good bye, Mrs. Flint. What, have you sold all your clocks? Yes, and very low, too, for money is scarce, and I wished to close the concarn ; no, I am wrong in saying all, for I have just one left. Neighbor Steel's wife asked to havo the refusal of it, but I guess I won't sell it ; I had but two of them, this one and the feller of it, that I sold Governor Lincoln. General Green, the Secretary of State for Maine said he'd give me 60 dollars for this here one — it has com- position wheels and patent axles, it is a beautiful article — a real first chop— no mistake, genuine superfine, but I guess I'll take it back; and beside. Squire Hawk might think kinder harder, that I did not give him the ofter. Dear me said Mrs. Flint, I should like to see it, where is it ? It is in a chest of mine over the way, at Tom Tape's store, I guess he can ship it on to Eastport. That's a good man, sai Mrs. Flint, jist let's look at it. « r'^ Mr. Slick, willing to oblige, yielded to these entreaties and soon produced the clock, a gawdy, highly varnished, trumpery looking aflair. He placed it on the chimney piece, where its beauties were pointed out and duly appre- ciated by Mrs. Flint, whose admiration was about ending in a proposal, when Mr. Flint returned from giving hia directions about the care of the horses. The Deacon praised the clock, he too thought it a handsome one ; bu 2 ] f«; --■■ : w 18 THE CLOCKMAKER. the Deacon was a prudent man, he had a watch — ne was sorry, but he had no occasion for a clock. I guess you're in the wrong furrow this time, Deacon, it aint for sale, said Mr. Slick ; and if it was, I reckon neighbour Steel's wife would have it, for she gives me no peace about it. Mrs. Flint said, thai Mr. Steel had enough to do, poor man, to pay his interest, without buying clocks for his wife. It'a no concarn of mine, said Mr. Slick, as long as he pays me what he has to do, but I guess I don't want to sell it, and besides it comes too high; that clock can't be made al Rhode Island under 40 dollars. Why it ain't possible, said the Clockmaker, iii apparent surprise, looking at his watch, why as I'm alive it is 4 o'clock, and if I hav'nt been two hours here — how on airth shall I reach River Philip to-night 1 I'll tell you what, Mrs. Flint, I'll leave the clock in your care till I return on my way to the States — I'll set it a going and put it to the right time. As soon as this operation was performed, he delivered the key to the Deacon with a sort of serio-comic injunction to wind up the clock every Saturday night, which Mrs. Flint said she would take care should be done, end pro- mised to remind her husband of it, in case he should chance to forget it. That, said the Clockmaker, as soon as we were mounted, that I call * human natur /' Now that clock is sold for 40 dollars — it cost me just 6 dollars and 50 cents. Mrs. Flint will never let Mrs. Steel have the refusal — nor will the Deacon learn until I call for the clock, that having once mdulged in the use of a superfluity, how difficult it is to give it up. We can do without any article of luxury we have never had, but when once obtained, it is not * in hu- man natur'' to surrender it voluntarily. Of fifteen thousand sold by myself and partners in this Province, twelve thou- sand were left in this manner, and only ten clocks were ever returned — when we called for them, they invariably bought them. We trust to ' soft sawder' to get them into the house, and to ' human natur^ that they never comf uut of it. m — ne was fHE SILENT OIRLS. CHAPTER III. THE SILENT G1RL& Do you see them are swallows, said the Clockmakor now ow they fly ? Well, I presume, we shall have rain right away, and them noisy critters, them gulls, how close they keep to the water, down there in the Shubenacadie, well that's a sure sign. l£ we study natur, we don't want no thermometer. But I guess we shall be in time to get under cover in a shingle-maker's shed, about three miles ahead on us. We had just reached the deserted hovel when the rain fell in torrents. I reckon, said the clockmaker, as he sat himself down on a bundle of shingles, I reckon they are bad off for inns in this country. When a feller is too lazy to work here, ha paints his name over his door, and calls it a tavern, and as like as not he makes the whole neighbourhood as lazy as himself — it is about as easy to find a good inn in Halifax as it is to find wool on a goat's back. An inn, to be a good concarn, must be built a purpose, you can no more make a good tavern out of a common dwelling-house, I expect, than a good coat out of an old pair of trowsers. They are eternal lazy, you may depend — now there might be a grand spec made there in building a good Inn and a good Church. What a sacrilegious and unnatural union, said I, with most unaffected surprise. Not at all, said Mr. Slick, wo build both on speculation in the States, and make a good deal of profit out of 'em too, I tell you. We look out a good sightly place in a town like Halifax, that is pretty (jonsiderably well peopled, with folks that are good marks ; and if there is no real right down good preacher among them, we build a handsome Church, touched off like a New York liner, a real taking looking thing — and then we look out for a preacher, a crack man, a regular ten horse power chap — well we hire him, and we have to give pretty high wages too, say twelve hundred or sixteen hundred dollars a year. We take him at first on trial for a Sabbath or 80 THE CLOCKMAKBR. nil m ■«-V ll!!,i' ! two, to try his paces, and if he takes with tlie folks, if he goes down well, we clincli the bargain and let and sell tlm pews ; and, I tell you, it pays well and makes a real good investment. There were few better specs among us than Inns and Churches, until the Railroads came on the carpet; as soon as the novelty of the new preacher wears olf, we hire another, and that keeps up the steam. I trust it will be long, very long, my friend, said I, ere the rage foi B^ieculation introduces " the money changers into the tem- ple," with us. Mr. Slick looked at me with a most ineffable expression of pity and surprise. Depend on it, sir, said he, with a most philosophical air, this Province is much behind the intelligence of the age. But if it is behind us in that re- spect, it is a long chalk ahead on us in others. I never seed or heard tell of a country that had so many natural privileges as this. Why there are twice as many har- bours and water powers here, as we have all the way from Eastport to New Orleens. They have all they can ax. and more than they desarve. They have iron, coal, slate, grindstone, lime, fire-stone, gypsum, freestone, and a list as long as an auctioneer's catalogue. But they are either asleep, or stone blind to them. Their shores are crowded with fish, and their lands covered with wood. A govern- ment that lays as light on 'em as a down counterpin, and no taxes. Then look at their dykes. The Lord seems to have made 'em on purpose for such lazy folks. If you were to tell the citizens of our country that these dykes had been cropped for a hundred years without manure, they'd say, they guessed you had seen Colonel Crockett, the great- est hand at a flam in our nation. You have heerd tell of a man who couldn't see London for the houses, I tell you if we had this country, you could'nt see the harbours for the chipping. There'd be a rush of folks to it, as there is in one of our inns, to the dinner table, when they sometimes get jammed together in the door- way, and a man has to take a running leap over their heads, afore he can get \a. A little nigger boy in New York found a diamond worth 2,000 dollars ; well, he sold it to a watchmaker for 50 cents — the little critter did'nt know r.o better. Your people are jutl m THE SILENT GIRLS. 21 get ake a little 2,000 —the ejutl like the nigger hoy^ they don't know the value of their diamond. Do you know the reason monkeys are no good 1 because they chatter all day long — so do the niggers — and so do the blue noses of Nova Scotia — it 's all talk and no work ; now with us its all work and no talk ; in our ship-yards, our fao lories, our mills, and even in our vessels, there's no talk — 9 man can't work and talk too. I guess if you were at the fac* lories at Lov/cU we'd show you a wonder — jive hundrea galls at work together all in silence. I don't think ouf great country has such a real natural curiosity as that — I expect the world don't contain the beat of that; for a woman's tongue goes so slick of itself, without water power or steam, and moves so easy on its hinges, that it's no easy matter to put a spring stop on it, 1 tell you — It comes as natural as drinkin mint julip. I don't pretend to say the galls don't nullify the rule at intermission and arter hours, but when they do, if they don't let go, then its a pity. You have heerd a school come out, of little boys. Lord, its no touch to it ; or a flock of geese at it, they are no more a match for 'em than a pony is for a coach-horse. But when they are at work all's as still as sleep and no snoring. I guess we have a right to brag o' that invention — we trained the dear critters so they don't think of striking the minutes and seconds no longer. Now the folks of Halifax take it all out in talking — they talk of steam-boats, whalers, and rail-roads — but they all end where they begin — in talk. I don't think I'd be out in my latitude, if I was to say they beat the women kind at that. One fellow says, I talk of going to England — anothei says, I talk of going to the country — while a third says, 1 alk of going to sleep. If we happen to speak of such hings, we say, * I'm right off down East ; or I'm away ofl South,' and away we go jist like a streak of lightning. |i. When we want folks to talk, we pay 'em for it, such ai "^ our ministers, lawyers, and members of congress ; but then we expect the use of their tongues, and not their hands , and when we pay folks to work, we expect the use of their fiands and not their tongues. I guess work don't come kmd o' natural to the people of this Province, no more than it S22 THfi CLOCKMARER. does to a full bred horse. 1 expect they think they have ai little too much blood in 'em lor work, for they are near about as proud as they are lazy. Now the bees know how to sarve out such chaps, for they have their drones too. Well, they reckon its no fun, a making honey all summer for these idle critters to eat all winter — so they give 'em Lynch Law. They have a regu- lar built mob of citizens, and string up the drones like the Vixburg gamblers. Their maxim is, and not a bad one neither, I guess, * no work no honey.' \m CHAPTER IV. CONVEltSATIONS AT THE RIVER PHILIP. It was late before we arrived at Pugnose's Inn — the evening was cool, and a fire was cheering and comfortable. Mr. Slick declined any share m the bottle of wine, he said he was dyspeptic ; and a glass or two soon convinced me, that it was likely to produce m me something worse than dyspepsy. It was speedily removed, and we drew up to the fire. Taking a small penknife from his pocket, he began to whittle a thin piece of dry wood, which lay on the hearth ; and, after musing some time, said, I guess you've never been in the States. I replied that I had not, but that before I returned to England I proposed visiting that country. There, said he, you'll see the great Daniel Wctstcr — he's a great man, I tell you ; Ring William, number 4, I guess, would be no match for him as an orator — he'd talk him out of sight in half an hour. If he was in your House of Com- mons, I reckon he'd make some of your great folks look pretty streaked — he's a true putriot and statesman, the first in ou- country, and a most particular cute. Lawyer. There was a Quaker chap too cute for him once tho'. This Quaker, a pretty knowin' old shaver, had a cause down to Rhode Island ; so he wt;nt to Daniel to hire him to go down and pleat" his case for Kim ; so says he. Lawyer Webster CONVERSATIONS AT THE RIVER PHILIP. V» If hat's your fee ? Why, says Daniel, let mo see, I have to go down South to Washington, to plead the great insurance- case of the Hartford Company — and I've got to be at Cin* cinnati to attend the Convention, and I don't see how I can go to Rhode Island without great loss and great fatigue ; it would cost you may be more than you'd be willing to give. • Well, the Quaker looked pretty white about the gills, I tell you, when he heard this, for he eould not do without him no how, and he did not like this preliminary talk of his at all — at last he made bold to ask him the worst of it, what he would take? Why, says Daniel, I always liked the Quakers, they are a quiet peaceable people, who never go to law if they can help it, and it would be better for our great country if there were more such people in it. I never seed or heerd tell of any harm in 'em except going the whole figure for Gineral Jackson, and that everlastin almighty villain, Van Buren ; yes, I love the Quakers, I hope they'll go the Webster ticket yet — and I'll go for you as low as I can any way afford, say 1 ,000 dollars. The Quaker well nigh fainted when he heerd this, but he was pretty deep too; so says he. Lawyer, that's a great deal of money, but I have more causes there, if I give you the 1,000 dollars will you plead the other cases I shall have to give you ? Yes, says Daniel, I will to the best of my humble abilities. So down they went to Rhode Island, and Daniel tried the (^se, and carried it for the Quaker. Well, the Quaker he goes round to all the folks that had suits in court, and says he, what will you give me if I get the great Daniel to plead for you? It cost me 1,000 dollars for a fee, but now he and 1 are pretty thick, and as he is on the spot, I'd get him to plead cheap for you — so he got three hundred dollars from one, and two from another, and so on, jntil he got eleven hundred dollars, jist one hundred dollars more than he gave. Daniel was in a great rage when he heerd this ; what, said he, do you think I would agree to your letting me out like a horse to hire ? Friend Daniel, said the Quaker, didst thou not undertake to plead all such cases as I should have to give thee? If thou wilt not stand to thy agreement, neither will I stand to mine. Daniel laughed out ready to split his sides at this. W^ell, says he I guess I might as well stand still for you to jjut the briult I. \- i% 94 THE CLOCKMAKBR. Iii lirl m on this time, for you have fairly pinned me up in a corner of the fence any how — so he went good humourcdly to work and pleaded them all. This lazy fellow, Pugnose, continued the Clockmaker, that keeps this inn, is going to sell off and go to the States , he says he has to work too hard here ; that the markets are dull, and the winters too long ; and he guesses he can live easier there ; I guess heMl Rnd his mistake afore he has been there long. Why our country aint to be compared to (his, on no account whatever ; our country never made us to be the great nation we are, but we made the country. How on airth could we, if we were all like old Pugnose, as lazy, as ugly, make that cold thin soil of New England pro- duce what it does ? Why, Sir, the land between Boston and Salem would starve a flock of geese ; and yet look at Salem, it has more cash than would buy Nova Scotia from the King. We rise early, Kvc frugally, and work late: what we get we take care of. To all this we add enterprise and intelligence — a feller who finds work too hard here, had better not go to the States. I met an Irishman, one Pat Lannigan, last week, who had just returned from the States ; why, says I, Pat, what on airth br-^ught you back ? Bad luck to them, says Pat, if I warn't properly bit. What do ycu get a day in Nova Scotia ? says Judge Beler to me. Four shillings, your Lordship, says I. There are no Lords here, says he, we \ 'o all free. Well, says he, Pll give you as much in one day as you can earn there in two ; I'll give you eiglit shillings. Long life to your Lordship, says 1 So next day to it I went with a party of men a-digging a piece of canal, and if it wasn't a hot day my name is not Pat Lannigan. Presently I looked up and straightened my back, says I to a comrade of mine, Mick, says I, I'm very dry ; with that, says the overseer, we don't allow gentlemen to talk at their work in this country. Faith, I soon found out for ray two days' pay in one, 1 had to do two days' work in one, and pay two weeks' board in one, and at the end of a month, I found myself no better off in pocket than in Nova Scotia ; while the devil a bone in my body that didn't ache with pain, and as for my nose, it took to bleed- ing, and bled day and night entirely. Upon my soul, Mr. Slick, said lie, the poor labourer i#^-' GO AHEAD. 31 Elder Thomson, you have a fine fiirm lioro, ci very fine farm, indeed ; vou have a large Ox too, a very larjic Ox ; and I think, saia he, I've seen to day, (turning and looking him full in the iace, for he intended to liit him pretty hard,) / think I have seen to-day the greatest Ilog I ever saw i my life. The neighbours snickered a good deal, and the Elder felt pretty streaked. I guess he'd give his great Pig or his great Ox either, if that story had'nt got wind. CHAPTER VII. GO AHEAD. When we resumed our conversation, the Clockmakei said " I guess we are the greatest nation on the face of the airth, and the most enliglitcned too." This was rather too arrogant to pass unnoticed, and I was about replying, that whatever doubts there might be on that subject, there could be none whatever that they were the most modest ; when he continued, we " go ahead," the Nova Scotians go " astarn." Our ships go ahead of the ships of other folks, our steam-boats beat the British in speed, and so do our stage-coaches ; and I reckon a real right down New York trotter might stump the univarse for going " ahead." But since we introduced the Rail-Roads, if we don't " go ahead" its a pity. We never fairly knew iv'hat going the whole hog was till then ; we actilly went ahead of ourselves, and that's no easy matter, I tell you. If they only had edication here, they might learn to do so too, but they don't know nothin.' You undervalue them, said I, they have their College and Academies, their gram- mar schools and primary institutions, and I believe there are few among them who cannot read and write. I guess all that's nothin', said he. As for Latin and Greek, we don't valy it a cent ; we teach it, and so we do painting and music, because the EnglisI* do, and we like to go ahead on 'em even in them are things. As for read- ing, its well enough for them that has nothing to do, anj . 32 THE CLOCKMAKEK. writing is plaguy npt to bring a man to States-prison, pai Licuhirly if he writes his name so like another man as U\ have it mistaken for his'n. Cyphering is the thing — if u man knows how to cypher he is sure to grow rich. We are a " calculating" people, we all cypher. A horse that wont go ahead is apt to run back, and tho more you whip him, the faster he goes astarn. That's jist the way with the Nova Scotians; they have been unning back so fast lately, that they have tumbled over a Bank or two, and nearly broke their necks ; and now they've got up and shook themselves, they swear their dirty clothes and bloody noses are all owing to the Banks. I guess if they wont look ahead for the future, they'll larn to look behind, and see if there's a bank near hand 'em. A bear always goes down a tree stam foremost. He is a cunning critter, he knows tante safe to carry a heavy road over his head, and his rump k so heavy, he dont like lo trust it over his'n, for fear it might take a lurch, and carry him, heels over head, to the ground ; so he lets his starn down first, and his head arter. I wish the blue- noses would find as good an excuse in their rumps for running backwards as he has. But the bear " cyphers" he knows how many pounds his hams weigh, and he " calcu- lates" if he carried them up in the air, they might be top heavy for him. If we had this Province we'd go to work and " cypher" Halifax is nothing without a river or back coun- try ; add nothing to nothing, and I guess you have nothing still — add a Rad Road to the Bay of Fundy, and how much do you git ? That requires cyphering — it will cost 300,000 dollars, or 75,000 pounds your money — add for notions omitted in the additional column, one third, and it makes even money — 100,000 pounds. Interest at 6 per cent. 5,000 pounds a year, now turn over the slate and count up freight — I make it upwards of 25,000 pounds a year. If I had you at the desk I'd show you a bill of items. Now comes " subtraction ;" deduct cost of engines, wear and tear, and expenses, and what not, and reduce it for shortness down to 5,000 pounds a year, the amount ol mterest. What figures have you got now ? you have an investment that pays interest, I guess, and if it dont pay right off. €0 AHEAD. . Ho heavy it like 1, and norc then I dont know chalk from cheese But su[>p4)se jt don't, and that it yields only 2^ per cent, (and it re- quires good cyphering, 1 tell you, to say how it would act with folks that like going asturn better than going ahead, \ what would them are wise ones say then 1 Why the critters would say it wont pay ; but I say the sum ant half stated. Can you count in your head ? Not to any extent, said I. Well, that's an etarnal pity, said the Clockmaker, for I should like to show you Yankee Cyphering. What is the entire real estate of Halifax worth, at a valcation? I really cannot say. Ah, said he, I see you dont cypher, and Latin and Greek wont do ; them are people had no rail- roads. Well, find out, and then only add ten per cent, to it, for increased value, and if it dont give the cost of a rail- road, then my name is not Sam Slick. Well the land between Halifax and Ardoise is worth nothing, add 6 per cent, to that, and send the sum to the College, and ax the students how much it comes to. But when you get into Hants County, I guess you have land worth coming all the way from Boston to see. His Royal High- ness the King, I guess, has'nt got the like in his dominions. Well, add 15 per cent, to all them are lands that border on Windsor Basin, add 5 per cent, to what butts on ba^in of Mines, and then what do you get ? A pretty considerable sum, I tell you — but its no use to give you the chalks if you can't keep the tallies. Now we will lay down the schoolmaster's assistant and take up another book every bit and grain as good as that, although these folks affect to sneer at it — I mean human natur. Ah 1 said I, a knowledge of that was of great ser- vice to you, certainly, in the sale of your clock to the old Deacon ; let us see how it will assist you now. What does a clock want that's run down ? said he. Undoubtedly to be wound up, I replied. I guess youVe hit it this time. The folks of Halifax have run down, and they'll never go to all etarnity, till they are wound up into motion ; the works are all good, and it is plaguy well cased and set — it only wants a key. Put this railroad into operation, and the activity it will inspire into business, the new life it wiil give the piace, will surprise you. Its like lilling a child oft' . I'l I n 84 THE CLOCKMAKlLK. Si:; II ■■^- •ts crawling, and putting him on his legs to run — see how the little critter goes ahead arter that. A kurnel, (I dont mean a Kurnel ol' mililia, lor we don't valy that breed o' cattle nothing — they do nothing hut strut about and screech all day, hko peacocks, but a kurnel of grain, when sowed, will stool into several shoots, and each shoot bear many kurnels, and will multiply itself thus — 4 times 1 is 4, and 4 times 25 is 100, (you see all natur cyphers, except the blue-noses.) Jist so, this here railroad will not, perhaps, beget other railroads, but it will beget a spirit of enter- prise, that will beget other useful improvements. It will enlarge the sphere and the mean j of trade, open new sources of traffic and supply — develop resources — and what is of more value perhaps than all — beget motion. It will teach the folks that go astarn or stand stock still, like the state- house in Boston, (though they do say the foundation of that has moved a little this summer) not only to go " ahead," but to nullify time and space. Here his horse (who, feeling the animation of his master, had been restive of late) set off at a most prodigious rate of trotting. It was sometime before he was reined up. When I overtook him, the Clockmaker said, this old Yankee norse, you see, understands our word " go ahead" better nor these blue-noses. What is itf he continued, what is it that * fetters'' the heels of a young country, and hangs like * a poke* around its neck 1 what retards the cultivation of its soil, and the im- >provement of its fisheries 7 — the high price of labour, 1 guess. Well, whafs a raihoad? The substitution of mechanical for human and animal labour, on a scale as grand as our great country. Labour is dear in America, and cheap in Europe. A railroad, 'therefore, is compara- lively no manner of use to them, to what it is to us — it does wonders there, but it works miracles here. There it makes the old man younger, but here it makes the child a giant. To us it is river ^ bridge, road, and canal, all one. It saves r- what we haii't got to spare, men, horses, carts, vessels, barges, and what^s all in all — time. Since the creation of the Universe, I guess it's greatest invention, arter man. Now this is what I the cal; l!i:i THE PREACHER THAT WANDERED, ETC. 9 »* nyphorini^" arter human natur, while figures arc cypher- ing artcr the " assistant." These two sorts of cyphering make idecation — and you may depend on't, Squire, tnere is nothing like folks cyphering, if they want to " go ahead/' CHAPTER VIII. the caii THE PREACHER THAT WANDERED FROM HIS TEXT. J GUESS, said the Clockmaker, we know more of Nova Scotia than the hlue-noses themselves do. The Yankees see further ahead than most folks ; they can een a most see round t'other side of a thing ; indeed some on them have hurt their eyes by it, and sometimes I think that's the reason such a sight of them wear spectacles. The first I ever heerd tell of Cumberland was from Mr. Everett of Congress ; he know'd as much about it as if he had lived here all his days, and may be a little grain more. He is a splendid man that — we class him No. 1, letter A. One night I chanced to go into General Peep's tavern at Boston, and who should I see there but the great Mr. Everett, a studying over a map of the province of Nova Scotia. Why it aint possible said I — if that aint Professor Everett, as I am alive ! why , how do you do. Professor? Pretty well, I give you thanks,' said he; how be you? but I aint no longer Professor; I gin that up, and also the trade of Preaching, and took to poli- tics. You don't say so, said I ; why what on airth is the cause o' that? Why, says ho, look here, Mr. Slick. What is the use of reading the Proverbs of Solomon to our free and enlightened citizens, that are every mite and mortal as wise as he was ? That arc man undertook to say there was nothing new under the sun. I guess he'd think he spoke a little too fast, if he was to see our steam-boats, railroads, and India rubber shoes — three inventions worth more nor nil he knew put into a heap together. Well, I don't know, said I, but somehow or another I guess you'd have found preaching the best speculation in the long run ; them are I- '1 ■r, I'll i I il .1 'i:!l i|ii'.;ii !II( m THE CLOCKMAKER. ITniturians pay bettor than Uncle Sam (we call, said the Clockmaker, the Amcricun public Uncle Sam, as you call the Hritish John Bull.) That remark seemed to grig him a little ; he felt oneasy like, and walked twice across the room, fil^y fathoms- deep in thought ; at last he said, which way are you from, Mr. Slick, this hitch? Why, says I, I've been away up south a speculating in nutmegs. I hope, says the Professor, they were a good article, the real right down genuine thing. No mistake, says 1, — no mistake. Professor: they were all prime, first chop ; but why did you ax that question ? \Vhy, Bays he, that eternal scoundrel, that Captain John Allspice of Nahant, he used to trade to Charleston, and he carried a cargo once there of fiily barrels of nutmegs: well, he put a half a bushel of good ones into each eend of the barrel, and the rest he filled up with wooden ones, so like the real thing, no soul could tell the difference until he bit one with his teeth., and that he never thought of doing, until he was first hit himiidf. Well, its been a standing joke with them southerners agin us ever since. It was only tothcr day at Washington, that everlasting Virginy duellist General Cuify, afore a number of senators, at the President's house, said to me. Well Everett, says he — you know I was always dead agin your Tariff bill, but [ have changed my mind since your able speech on it ; I shall vote for it now. Give me your hand, says I, General Cuffy ; the Boston folks will be dreadful glad when they hear your splendid talents are on our side — I think it wih go now — we'll carry it. Yes, says he, your factories down east beat all natur ; they go ahead on the English a long chalk. You may depend I was glad to hear the New Englanders spoken of in that way — I felt proud, I tell you • — and, says he, there's one manufacture that might stump all Europe to produce the like. What's that ? says I, look- ing as pleased all the time as a gall that's tic^kled. Why, says he, the facture of wooden nutmegs ; that's a cap sheet that bangs the bush — its a real Yankee patent invention. With that all the gentlemen set up a laugh, you might have heerd away down to Sandy Hook — and the General gig gobbled like a great turkey cock, the half nigger, half alii THE PREACHER THAT WANDERED, ETC. 37 long alii gator like looking villain as he is. I toll you what, Mr 8lick, said iho I'ron^ssor/I wish with all my heart them are damned niitmcgs wen; in tho hotfom omIk; sea. That was lli(! lirst oath I ever hcerd him let sll|): but he w;is (U'eadiid ryled, and ii made me I'eel ugly ton, liw its uwCiil to he;ii- n. minister swear; and the only matt h 1 know lor it, is to lit ■a'^ a regular sneezer of a sinner quote scripture. Says 1, Mr Everett, that's the fruit that politics hear : for my part J never seed a good graft on it yet, that bore any thing goc» to eat, or easy to digest. Well, he stood awhile looking down on the carpet, with his hands behind him, quite taken up a cyphering in his head, and then he straightened himself up, and he |)ut his hand upon his heart, just as he used to do in the pulpit, (he looked pretty I tell you) and slowly lifting his hand off his breast, he said, Mr. Slit-k, our tree of liberty was a beautilul tree — a splendid tree — it was a sight to look at; it was well fenced and Well protected, and it grew so stately and so handsome, that strangers came from all parts ot' the globe to see it. They all allowed it was the most splendid thing in the world. Well, the mobs have broken in and tore down their fences, and snapped off the branches, and scattered all the leaves about, and it looJ^s no better than a gallows tree. I am yfeared, says he, I tremble to think on it, but I am afeared our ways will no longer be ways of pleasantness, nor our paths, paths of peace ; I am, indeed, I vow, Mr. Slick. He looked so streaked and so chop-lallen, that I felt kinder sorry for him ; I actilly thought he'd a boo-hood right out. So, to turn the conversation, says I, Professor, what aro ereat map is that I seed you a studyin' over when I came m ' Says he, its a map of Nova Scotia. That, says he, is a valuable province, a real clever province ; we han't got the like on it, but its most plagily in our way. Well, says I, send for Sam Patch (that arc man was a great diver, says fh Clockmaker, and the last dive he took was off the falls of Niagara, and he was never heerd of aiiin till tother dav when Captain Enoch W^entworth, of the Susy Ann Whaler, saw him in the South Sea. AVhy, says Caj)tain Enoch to him, why Sam, says he, how on airth did you get here ? 1 «ought you was drowned at the Canadian lines. 'Vhy f*r; .^ ^-^ .^ 88 THE CLOCKMAKER. "Tv ' j Rays lie, I (lidri't gol on airth liorc at all, but I came rigli* sla[) '.trough it. Jii that an; Niagara divo, I went so ever- Insting deep, 1 tliought it was just as short to come u\t tother side, so out I eamc in tliose purls. If I don't take the shine oil' the Sea Serpent, wh(jn I get haei^ to IJoston, then my name's not Sam I'af.eh.) Well, says I, Professor, send for Sam Pateh, the diver, und let liim dive down and stiek a torpedo in the bottom of the Province and blow it up; or if hat won't do, send for some of our steam tow-boats from our great Eastern cities, and tow it out to sea ; you know there's nothing our folks can't do, when they once fairly take hold on a thing in airnest. Well, that made him laugh ; he seemed to forget abou .the nutmegs, and says he, that's a bright scheme, but it won't do ; we shall want the Province some day, and I guess we'll buy it of King William ; they say he is over head and cars in debt, and owes nine hundred millions of pounds starling — we'll buy it as we did Florida. In the meantime we must have a canal from Bay Fundy to Bay Varte, right through Cumberland neck, by Shittyack, foi our fishing vessels to go to Labradore. I guess you mus* ax leave first, said I. That's jist what I was cypherinj^ at, says he, when you came in. I believe we won't a\ them at all, but jist fall to and do it ; it^s a road of need cessity. I once heard Chief Justice Marshall of Baltimore, say. If the people's highway is dangerous — a man may take down a fence — and pass through the fields as a way of needcessity / and we shall do it on that principle, as the way round by Isle Sable is dangerous. I wonder the Novascotians don't do it for their own convenience. Said I, it would'nt make a bad speculation that. The critters don't know no better, said he. W^ell, says I, the St. John's folks, why don't they? for they are pretty cute chaps them. They remind me, says the Professor, of Jim Billings. You knew Jim Billings, didn't you, Mr. Slick ? Oh yes eaid I, I knew him. It was he that made such a talk by shipping blankets to the West Indies. The same, says he Well, I went to see him the other day at Mrs. Lecain'w Boarding House, and sa\s I, Billings, you have a nice loca THE PREACHER THAT WANDERED, ETC. 39 foi tion h(-ro. A pUvi^y si^ht too nirr, sui«l he. Murm Lccnin mukos such an ctrriml touss ahout her cariu^ts, that 1 havfl to go u\ou>r tliat everlasting long entry, and down both stair cases, to tlu; street iUmr to spit ; and it keeps all the gen- tlemen a running with their mouths full all day. I had a real bout with u New Yorker this morning, I run down t the street door, and afore I se-ed any body a coming, I let go; and I vow if I didn't let a chap have it all ov(>r his whit waistcoat. Well, he makes a grab at me, and I shuts the door right to on his wrist, and hooks the door chain taught, and leaves him there, and into Marm Lccain's bed-room like a shot, and hides behind the curtain. Well, he roared like a bull, till black Lucretia, one of the house helps, let him go, and they looked into all the gentlemen's rooms and found nobody — so I got out of that are scrape. So, what with Marm Lecain's carpets in the house, and other folks's waistcoats in the street, its too nice a location for me, I guess, so I shall up killoch and off to-morrow to the Tree Diont. Now, says the Professor, the St. John's folks are jist like Billings, fifty cents would have bought him a spit box, and saved him all them are journeys to the street door — and a canal at Bay Varte would save the St. John's folks a voyage all round Nova Scotia. Why, they can't get at their own backside settlements, without a voyage most as long as one to Europe. If we had that are neck of land in Cumberland, wed have a ship canal there, and a town at each eend of it as big as Portland, You may talk of Solomon, said the Professor, but if Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like a lily of the field, neither was he in all his wisdom equal in knowledge to a real free American citizen. Well, said I, Professor, we are a most enlightened people, that's sartain, but somehow I don't like to hear you run down King Solomon neither ; perhaps he warnt quite so wise as Uncle Sam, but then, said I, (drawing close to the Professor, and whispering in his ear, for fear any folks in the bar room might hear me,) but then, said I, may be he was every bit and grain as honest. Says he, Mr. Slick, there are some folks who think a good deal and say but little, and they are wise folks ; and there are 40 THE CLOCKMAKBR. otherc ogin, who lilart ri^ht out wliatcvor comes upper most, mid I guuss they aro pretty considerable superhna durn(!d fools. And with that ho turned right round, and sat down to his map, and never said another word, iookin' as mad a a hutter the whole blessed time CHAPTER IX. mw iiiji YANKEE EATING AND HORSE FEEDING. Did you ever heer tell of Abernethy, a British doctor ? said the Clockmaker. Frequently, said I, ho was an emi- nent man, and had a most extensive practice. Well, 1 reckon he was a vulgar critter that, he replied, he treated the hon'ble Alden Gobble, secretary to our legation at London, dreadful bad once ; and I guess if it had been me he had used that way, I'd a fixed his flint for him, so that heM think twice afore he'd fire such another shot as that are again. I'd make him make tracks, I guess, as quick as a dog does a hog from a potatoe field. He'd a found his way out of the hole in the fence a plagy sight quicker than he came in, I reckon. His manner, said I, was certainly rather unceremonious at times, but he was so honest and so straightforward, that no person was, I believe, ever seriously offended at him. It was his way. Then his way was so plaguy rough, con- tinued the Clockmaker, that he'd been the better, if it liad been hammered and mauled down smoother. I'd a levelled him as flat as a flounder. Pray what was his oflfence t said I. Bad enough you may depend. The hon'ble Alden Gqbble was dyspeptic, and he su& fcred great oneasiness artcr eatin, so he goes to Al)erneihy for advice. What's the matter with vou, said the Doctor ? jist that way, without even passing the time o'day with him — what's the matter with you ? said ho. Why, says Alden, I presume I fiave the dyspepsy. Ah ! said he, I TANKRE EATIIfO A\P HORSE FEEDIIVO. 41 ilh M^; a Ynnk(M« swallowed nioiv dollars and cents llinn no can (ii^/est. I am an Aiiini -an riii/f-n, says Aldcn, witli prcaf di:4nity ; I am Screfary to our liC^ation fit the ('ourt uC JSt. JauKv-J. 'I'Ik? devil yoii an-, said AlxM-nethy; tin ii yoini soon got rid of your dysjx'psy. I don't soo tlmt are inleroncj?, said Aldenj it don't lidlow from what you redicatc at all — it aint a natural consequence, I guess, hat a man should cense to bo ill, l)ecause he is called y the voice of a free and cnlight(;ned people to fill an nif)ortant otHce. (The truth is, you could no more trap Alden than you could an Indian. He could see other folks' trail, and made none himself: ho was a real diploma- tist, and I helieve our diplomatists arc allowed to bo the best in the world.) Rut I tell you it does follow, said the Doctor ; for in the comj)any you'll liave to keep, you'll have to eat like a Christian. It was an everlasting pity Alden contradicted him, for he broke out like one ravin distracted mad. I'll be d d said he, if cv(^r I saw a Yankee that didn't bolt his food whole like a IJoa Constrictor. How the devil can you ex- pect to digest food, that you neither take the trouble to dissect, nor time to masticate? It's no wonder yen less your teeth, for you never use them ; nor your digestion, for you overload it ; nor your saliva, for you expend it on the carpets, instead of your food. Its disgusting, its beastly. You Yankees load your stomachs as a Devon- shire man does his cart, as full as it can hold., nnd as fast as he can pitch it with a dung fork, and d*ive off; -and then you complain that such a load of compost is toe heavy for you. Dyspcpsy, eh ! infernal guzzling you mean. I'll tell you what, Mr. Secretary of Legation, take oalf the time to eat, that you do to drawl out your words, hew your food half as much as you do your filthy tobacco, nd you'll be well in a month. I don't understand such language, said Alden, (for he as fairly ryled and got his dander up, and when he showa lear grit, he looks wicked ugly, I tell you,) I don't under- tand such language. Sir ; I came here to consult you pro- fessionally, and not to be . Don't understand ! said he Doctor, why its plain Binglish ; but here, read my b«3ok 4* #'# ri 42 THE CLOCKMAKER. ii'-*l,i — and he shovod a book into his hands and left him in ail instant, standing alone in the middle of the room. If the hon'ble Aldcn Gobble had gone right away and demanded his passports, and returned liome with the Lega- tion, in one of our first class frigates, (I guess the English would »s soon see pyson as one o' them are Serpents) to Washington, the President and the people would have sus- tained him in it, I guess, until an apology was offered for the insult to the nation. I guess if it had been me, sai Mr. Slick, IM a headed him afore he slipt out o' the door and pinned him up agin the wall, and made him bolt his words agin, as quick as he throw'd 'em up, for I never see'd an Englishman that did'nt cut his words as short as he does his horse's tail, close up to the stump. *' It certainly was very coarse and vulgar language, and I think, said I, that your Secretary had just cause to be offended at such an ungentlemaHlike attack, although he showed his good sense in treating it with the contempt it deserved. It was plagy lucky for the doctor, I tell you^ that he cut his stick as he did, and made himself scarce, for Alden was an ugly customer, he'd a gin him a proper scald- ing — he'd a taken the brissles off his hide, as clean as the skin of a spring shote of a pig killed at Christmas. The Clockmaker was evidently excited by his own story, and to indemnify himself for these remarks on his coun- trymen, he indulged for some time in ridiculing the Nova Scotians. Do you see that are flock of colts, said he, (as we passed one of those beautiful prairies that render the vallies of Nova Scotia so verdant and so fertile,) well, I guess they keep too much of that are stock. 1 heerd an Indian one day ax a tavern keeper for some rum ; why, Joe Spaw- deeck, said he, I reckon you have got too much already. Too much of any thing, said Joe, is not good, but too much rum is jist enough. I guess these blue-noses think so bou heir horses, they are fairly eat up by them, out of house nd nome, and they are no good neither. They beant ood saddle horses, and they beant good draft beasts — they are jist neither one thing nor tother. They are like the drink ol vur Connecticut folks. At mowing time they use YANKEE EATING AND HORSE FEEDING. 43 molasses and water, nasty stuff, only fit to catch flies — it spiles good water and makes bad beer. No wonder the folks are poor. Look at them are great dykes ; well, they all go to feed horses ; and look at their grain fields on the upland ; well, they are all sowed with oats to feed h6rses, and they buy their bread from us : so we feed the' asses and they feed the horses. If I had them critters on tha are marsh, on a location of mine, I'd jist take my rifle and shoot every one on them ; the nasty yo necked, cat ham- med, heavy headed, flat eared, crooked shanked, long legged, narrow chested, good for nothin brutes ; they aint worth their keep one winter. I vow, I wish one of these blue-noses, with his go-to-meetin clothes on, coat tails pinned up behind like a leather blind of a shay, an old spur on one heel, and pipe stuck through his hat band, mounted on one of these limber timbered critters, that moves its hind legs like a hen scratchin gravel, was sot down in Broad- way, in New York, for a sight. Lord 1 I think I hear the Wesi Point cadets a larfin at him. Who brought that are scarecrow out of standin corn and stuck him here 1 I guess that are citizen came from away down east out of the Notch of the White Mountains. Here comes the Cholera doctor, from Canada — not from Canada, I guess, neither, for he don'*t look as if he had ever been among the rapids. If ihey would'nt poke fun at him its a pity. If they'd keep less horses, and more sheep, they'd have food and clothing, too, instead of buying both. I vow I've larfed afore now till I have fairly wet myself a cryin', to see one of these folks catch a horse : may be he has to go two or three miles of an nrrand. Well, down he goes on the dyke, with a bridle in one hand, and an old tin pan in another, full of oats, to catch his beast. First he goes to one flock of horses, and then to another, to see if he can find his own critter. At last he gets sight on him, and goes solely up to him, shakin of his oats, and a coaxin him, and jist as he goes to put his hand on him, away he starts all nead and tail, and the rest with him ; that starts anothcf flock, and they set a third off, and at last every troop on 'em goes, as if OM Nick was arter them, till they amount to t*¥o or three hundred in a drove. Well, he chases them !ir #i:l if' ^- 44 THE CLOCKKAKER. II 6V * h! clear across the Tantramer marsh, seven miles good, over ditches, creeks, mire holes, and flag ponds, and then they Uirn and take a fair chase for it back again seven miles By this time, 1 presume they are all pretty consid- more. erably well tired, and Blue Nose, he goes and gets up all ihe men folks in the neighbourhood, and catches his beast, as they do a moose arter he is fairly run down ; so he runs fourteen miles, to ride two, because he is in a tarnation hurry. It's e'en a most equal to eatin soup with a fork, when you are short of time. It puts me in mind of catch- ing birds by sprinkling salt on their tails ; its only one horje a man can ride out of half a dozen, arter all. One has no shoes, tother has a colt, one arnt broke, another has a sore back, while a fifth is so etarnal cunnin, all Cumber- land could'nt catch him, till winter drives him up to the barn for food. Most of them are dyke marshes have what they call * honey pots' in 'em ; that is a deep hole all full of squash, where you can't find no bottom. Well, every now and hen, when a feller goes to look for his horse, he sees his tail a stickin right out an eend, from one of these honey pots, and wavin like a head of broom corn ; and sometimes you see two or three trapped there, e'en a most smothered, everlastin' tired, half swimmin, half wadin, like rats in a molasses cask. When they find 'em in that are pickle, ihey go and get ropes, and tie 'em tight round their necks, and half hang 'em to make 'em float, and then haul 'em out. Awful looking critters they be, you may depend, when they do come out ; for all the world like half drowned kittens — all slinkey slimey — with their great long tails glued up like a swab of oakum dipped in tar. If they don't look foolish its a pity 1 Well, they have to nurse these critters all winter, with hot mashes, warm covering, and what not, and when spring comes, they mostly die, and if they don't they are never no good arter. I wish with all my heart half th horses in the country were barrelled up in these here '* honey pots," and then there'd b§ near about one half too many left for profit. Jist look at one of these barn yards in the spring — half a dozen half-starved colts, with theit nair looking a thousand ways for Sunday, and their coati \ \^k THE ROAD TO A WOMAN S HEART 45 tiangin in tatters, and half a dozen good for notliin old horses, a crowdin out the cows and sheep. Can you wonder that people who keep such an unjiro Ji table stocky come out of the small eend of tue horn in the )ng run 1 CHAPTER X. THE ROAD TO A WOMAN'S HEART-THE BROKEN HEART. As we approached the Inn at Amherst, the Clockmakei grew uneasy. Its pretty well on in the evening, I guess, said he, and Marm Pugwash is as onsartin in her temper as a mornin in April ; its all sunshine or ill clouds with her, and if she's in one of her tantrums, she'll stretch out her neck and hiss, like a goose with a flock of goslins. I wonder what on airth Pugwash was a thinkin on, when he signed articles of partnership with that are woman , she's not a bad lookin piece of 'furniture neither, and its a proper pity sich a clever woman should carry such a stiff upper lip — she reminds , me of our old minister Joshua Hopewell's apple trees. -• The old minister had an orchard of most particular good fruit, for he was a great hand at buddin, gratlin, and what not, and the orchard (it was* the south side of the house) stretched right up to the road. Well, there were some trees hung over the fence, I never seed such bearers, the apples hung in ropes, for all the world like strings of onions and the fruit was beautiful. Nobody touched the minister's apples, and when other folks lost theirn from the boys, his'n always hung there like bait to a hook, but there never was o much as a nibble at 'em. So I said to him one day Minister, said I, how on nirth do you manage to keep your fruit that's so exposed, wh n no one else cant do it nohow Why, says he, they are dreadful pretty fruit, ant tht y ? I guess, said I, there ant the like on 'em in all Connecticut. '3 secret, but you need'nt lul sayi you lii r5 % \. X 16 THE CLOCKMAKER. on to no one about it. That aro row next the fcnre, f grafted it myself, I took great pains to get the riglit kinH, I sent clean up to Koxberry and away do"n to Squaw-necU Creek, (I was ufeared lie was a goin to give me day and date for every graft, l)eing a terrible long-winded man in his stories,) so says I, I know that, minister, but how do you preserve them ? VVhy, I was a goin to tell you, said be, when you stopped me. That are outward row I grafted myself with the choicest kind I could find, and I succeeded.^ They are beautiful, but so etarnal sour, no human soul can eat them. Well, the boys think the old minister's graftin has all succeeded about as well as that row, and they sarch no farth(^r. They snicker at mjl graftin, and I laugh in my sleeve, I guess, at their penetra- tion. Now, Marm Pugwash is like the Minister's apples, very temptin fruit to look at, but desperate sour. If Pugwash had a watery mouth when he married, I guess its pretty fuckery by this time. Ji|wever, if she goes to act ugly, Ml give her a dose ofpHoft sawder,' that will take the frown out of her ^"""^j^Mf""- ^"^ make her dial-plate as smooth as a lick of |fiHf varnish. Its a pity she's such a Uickin' devil, too, tlPihe has good points — good eye — good foot — neat pastern — fine chest — a clean set of limbs and carries a good . But here we are, now you'll see what * soft sawder' will do. VVhen we entered the house, the travellers' room was all in darkness, and on opening the opposite door into the sitting room, we found the female part of the family extin- guishing the fire for the night. Mrs. Pugwash had a broom in her hand, and wtis in the act (the last act of female housewifery) of sweeping the hoj^rth. The strong flicker- mg light of the fire, as it fell upon her tall fine figure and beautiful face, revealed a creature Vv'orthy of the Clock- maker's comments. Good evening, Marm, said Mr. Slick, how do you do nnd how's Mr. Pugwnsh? lie, said sho, why he's been aJM^d this hour, you don't expect to disturb him this time of night I hope. Oh no, said Mr. Slick, certainly not, and I am sorry to have disturbed you, but we got detained longel THE ROAD TO A WOMAN's HEART. 47 than wc expoctcd ; I am sorry tfuit . So (irn I, said she, hut if Mr. Pii^wnsli will kcM^p an iiiii when ho lias no occasion to, Wo* family cant oxpec^t no rest. > Here the Clockniak(ir, seeing the storm gatherinff, stoopo down suddenly, and ytarini mtently, held out liis hand an exclaimed, Well, if thr.t aiat a beautiful child— come hera my little man, and shake hands along with me-^well, declare, if that are little feller aint the finest child I eve seed — what, not abed yet? ah you rogue, where did yo get them are pretty rosy checks ; stole them Irom mamma, eh? Well, I wish my old mother could see that child, it is such a treat. In our country, said he, turning to me, the children arc all as j)ale as chalk, or as yalleras an oninge- Lord, that are little lellcr would be a show in our country —come to me, my man. Here the * soft sawder' began to operate. Mrs. Pugwash said in a milder tone than we had yet heard, * Go my dear to the gentleman — go dear.' Mr. Slick kissed him, asked him il' he would go to the States along with him, told him all the little girls there would fall in love with him, for they did'nt see such a beautiful face once in a month of Sundays. Black eyes — let me see — ah mamma's eyes tno nnd black liair also j as 1 am alive, why you are mam in* * own boy, the very image of mamma, bo be seated, jt^nilemen, said Mrs. Pugwash — Sally, make a fire in the next room. She ought to be proud of you, he continued. Well, if I live to return here, I must paint your face, and have it put on my clocks, and our folks will buy the clocks for the sake of the face. Did you ever see, said he, again addressing me, such a likeness between one human and another, as ixitween this beautiful little boy and his mother? I am sure you have had no suppor, said Mrs. Pugwash to me ; you must be hungry and weary, too — 1 will get you a cup of tea. I am sorry to give you so much trouble, said I. Not the least trouble in the world, she replied, on the contrary a pleasure. We were then shown into the next room, where the fire was now blazing up, but Mr. Slirk protested he could not oroceod without the little boy, and linge/od behind to ascer- ain his age, and conrluded by asking t.ic child if he had Hny aunts ihat looked like mamma. "m *-.,*>-^ *v 48 THE CLOCKMAKBR. # 1 1 P As the door closed, Mr. Slick said, its a pity she don*t go well in gear. The difficulty with those critters is to git them r.o start, arter that there is no trouble with them if you don'i check 'em too short. If you do they'll stop again, run back and kick like mad, and then Old Nick himsel. would'nt start 'em. ' u wash, I guess, don't understand he natur of the critter ^ sne'll never go kind in harness for him. When I see a childj said the Clockmaker., I always feel safe with these women folk / for I have always found that the road to a woman's heart ties through her child. You seem, said I, to understand the female heart so well, I make no doubt you are a general favourite among the fair sex. Any man, he replied, that understands horses, has a pretty considerable fair knowledge of women, for they are jist alike in temper, and require the very identical same treatment. Incourage the timid oncs^ be gentle and steady with the fractious, but lather the sulky ones like blazes. People talk an everlastin sight of nonsense about winQ women, and horses. I've bought and sold 'em all, I've traded in all of them, and I tell you, there aint one in a thousand that knows a grain about either on 'em. You hear folks say. Oh, such a man is an ugly grained critter, he'll break his wife's heart ; jist as if a woman's heart was as brittle as a pipe stalk. The female heart, as far as my experience goes, is jist like a new India Rubber shoe ; you may pull and pull at it till it stretches out a yard long, and then let go, and it will fly right back to its old shape. Their hearts are made of stout leather, I tell you ; there's a plaguy sight of wear in 'em. I never knowed but one case of a broken heart, and that was in tother sex, one Washington Banks. He was a sneezer. He was tall enough to spit down on the heads of your grenadiers, and near about high enough to wade across Charlestown River, and as strong as a tow boat, I guess he was somewhat less than a foot longer than the moral law and catechism too. He was a perfect pictur of a man ; you could'nt fait him in no particular ; he was so just a made critter ; folks used to run to the winder when he passed, and say there goes Washington Banks, beant ho loveiy? i io believe there was'nt a gall in the Lowell < • THE HOAD TO A WOMAN'S HEART. 49 ;< fa clones, that warnt in love with him. Sonietlmes, at intermission, on Sabbath days, when they all came out together, ^an amazin hansom sight too, near about a whole congregation of young galls) Banks used to say, * I vow, young ladies, I wish 1 had five hundred arms to reciprocate one with each of you ; but I reckon I have a heart big enough for you all ; it's a whapper, you may depend, and every mite and morsel of it at your service.* Well, now do you act, Mr Banks, half a thousand little clippe clapper tongues would say, all at the same time, and '.hei dear little eyes sparklin, like so many stars twinklin of a frosty night. Well, when I last see'd him, he was all skin and bone, like a horse turned out to die. He was teetotally defleshed, a mere walkin skeleton. I am dreadfiil sorry, says I, to see you. Banks, lookin so peecked ; why you look like a eick turkey hen, all legs ; what on airth ails you ? I am dyin, says he, of a broken heart. What, says I, have the galls been jiltin you ? No, no, says he, I beant such a fool as that neither. Well, says I, have you made a bad specu- (ation ? No, says he, shakin his head, I hope I have too much clear grit in me to take on so bad for that. What under the sun, is it, then ? said I. Why, says he, I made a bet the fore part of summer with Leftenant Oby Knowles, that I could shoulder the best bower of the Constitution frigate. I won my bet, but the Anchor was so etarnal heavy it broke my heart. Sure enough he did die that very fall, and he was the only instance I ever heerd tell of a broken heart no ^ei"! ^^a. * * THE CLOCKMAKjn. CHAPTER XI. CUMBERLAND OYSTERS PRODUCE MELANCHOLY FORK. BODINGS. The ^ soft sawder* of the Clockmaker had operate effectually on the beauty of Amherst, our lovely hostess of Pugwash's Inn : indeed, I am inclined to think with Mr Slick, that * the road to a woman's heart lies through hef child,' from the effect produced upon her by the praises be- stowed on her infant boy. I was musing on this feminine susceptibility to flattery, when the door opened, and Mrs. Pugwash entered dressed in her sweetest smiles and her best cap, an auxiliary by no means required by her charms, which, like an Italian sky, when unclouded, are unrivalled in splendour. Approaching me, she said, with an irresistible smile. Would you like Mr. , (here there was a pause, a hiatus, evidently in- tended for me to fill up with my name ; but that no person knows, nor do I intend they shall ; at Medley's Hotel, in Halifax, I was known as the stranger in No. 1. The at- tention that incognito procured for me, the importance it gave me in the eyes of the master of the house, its lodgers and servants, is indescribable. It is only great people who travel incog. State travelhng is inconvenient and slow ; the constant weight of form and etiquette oppresses at once the strength and the spirits. It is pleasant to travel unob- served, to stand at ease, or exchange the full suit for the undress coat and fatigue jacket. VVherever, too, there is mystery there is importance ; there is no knowing for whom I may be mistaken — but let me once give niy humble cog- nomen and occupation, and I sink immediately to my own level, to plebeian station and a vulgar name ; not even my beautiful hostess, nor my inquisitive friend, the Clockmaker, who calls me * Squire,' shall extract that secret !) Would you like, Mr. , Indeed I would, says I, Mrs. Pugwash ; pray be seated, and tell me what it is. Would you like u \ I CUMBERLAND tfSTERS, ETC. 51 dish of superior Shittyacks for supper? Indeed I vvould, said I, agin laugliing; but pray tell mo what it is? Laws me! said she with u stare, where have you been all youi days, that you never heard of our IShittyack Oysters? 1 thought every l)ody had heerd of them. I l)eg pardon, said I, but I understood at Halifax, that the only Oysters in this part of the world were found on the shores of Prince Edwaj-d island. Oh I dear no, said our hostess, they are found all along the coast from Shittyack, through Bay of Vartes, away to Ramshag. The latter we seldom get, though the best ; there is no regular conveyance, and when they do come, they are generally shelled and in kegs, and never in good order. I have not had a real good Uamshag in my house these two years, since Governor Maitland was here ; he was amazing fond of them, and Lawyer Talkemdeaf Bent his carriage there on purpose to procure them fresh for him. Now we can't get thenij but we have the Sliitty- acks in perfection ; say the word and they shall be served up immediately. A good dish and an unexpected dish is most acceptable, and certainly my American friend and myself did ample justice to the oysters, which, if they had not so classical a name, have quite as good a flavour as their far-famed brethren of Milton. Mr. Slick eat so heartily, that when he resumed his conversation, he indulged in the most me- lancholy forebodings. Did you see that are nigger, said he, that removed the oyster shells ? well he's one of our Chesapickers, one of General Cuffy's slaves. I wish Admiral Cockburn had a tati^ tbem all off our hands at the same rate. We made aprBtiy good sale of them are black cattle, I guess, to the British ; I wish we were well rid of 'em all. The Blacks and the Whites in the States show their teeth and snarl, they are jist ready to fall to. The Protestants and CathO' lies begm to lay back their ears, and turn tail for kickin. The Abolitionists and Planters are at it like two bulls in a pastur. Mob-Law and Lynch-Law are working like yeast in a barrel, and frothing at the bunghole. Nullification and Tariff are like a charcoal pit, all covered up, but Durning inside, and sending out smoke at every crack, 62 THE CLOCKMARER. frfi enough to stifle a liorsc. General Government and StaU Government every now and then square oil* and spar, imd the lirst l)lo\v jj;iven will bring a geiiuino set-to. Surplu» Revenue is another bono of coiircaition ; like a shin of beef thrown aiiiong a pack of dogs, it will set the wholo on 'em by the ears. You have lieord tell of cotton rarjjs dipt in turpenti.no iiavn't you, iiow tiiey produce coniluistion .' Well, I gu('s we have the elements of spontaneous combustion among us in abundance; ; when it does break out, if you don't 5ijO an eruption of human gore worse thu/i Litna lava, then I'm mistaken. Then^'ll bo the very devil to pay, that's a fact. I expect the blacks will butcher the Southern whites, and the Northerners will have to turn out and butcner them again ; and all this shoot, hang, cut, stab, and burn business will sweeten our folks' temper, as raw meat d(x,>s that of a dog — it fail ly makes me sick to think on it. The explosion may clear the air again, and all be tranquil once more, but its an even chance if it don't leave us the three steam-boat options, to be blown sky high, to be scalded to death, or drowned. If this sad picture you have drawn be indeed true to na- ture, how does your country, said 1, appear so attractive as to draw to it so large a portion of our population? It tante its attraction, said the Clockmaker ; its nothing but Its power of suction ; it is a great whirlpool — a great vor- tex — it drags all the straw and chips, and floating sticks, drifl wood and trash into it. The small crafts are sucked in, and whirl round and round like a squirrel in the cage — they'll never come out. Bigger ones pass through at cer- tain times of tide, and can come in and out with good pi- lotage, as they do at Hell Gate up the Souni. You astonish mo, said I, beyond measure ; both your previous conversations with me, and the concurrent testi mony of all my friends who have visited the States, give 9 different view of it. Your friends! said the Clockmaker with such a tone of inollhble contempt, that I felt a strong inclination to knock him down for his insolence — your friends I Ensigns and leftenanfs, I guess, from the British maichin regiments in the Colonies, that run over S e em CUMRERLAIYD OYSTERS, ETC. 53 thousand miles of country in five weeks, on leave of al» senee, and tlun return, looking as wise as the monkey that had .seen the world. W'iien they Jiet back thev are so chock lull ol' knowle(lj;e of tlu; Yankees, that it runs over of itseli", like a ho;'shead of molasses, rolled about in iiot Weather — a white iroth and scum bubbles out of the bunjj;; wishywashy trash they call tours, sketches, travels, letters. And what not ; vapid stuff, jist sweet enough to catch flies, cockroaches, and half-fknlged galls. It j)uts me in mind of mv French. I larnt French at ni^iht school one winter of our minister Joshua Hopewell (he wjis the most larne^d man of the age, for he taught Jiimself cen amost every language in Europe ; well, next spring, when I went to Boston I met a Frenchman, and I began to jabber away French to him : ' Polly W(k'S a french shay,' says I. I don't understand Yankee yet, says he. You don't under- stand 1 says 1, why its French. I guess you didn't expect to hear such good French, did you, away down east here ? but we sjK'ak it real well, and its generally allowed we speak English, too, better than the British. Oh, says he, you one very droll Yankee, dat very good joke, Sare ; you talk Indian and call it French. But, says I, IMister Mount- shear, it is French, 1 vow ; real merchantable, without wainy edge or shakes — all clear stuff; it will pass survey in any market — its ready stuck and seasoned. Oh, very ike, says he, bowin as polite as a black waiter at New OrhenSf very like, only I never heerd it afore ; oh, very good French dat — clear stuffs no doubt, but I no under- stand — its all my fault, I dare say, Sare. Thinks I to myself, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse, I see how the cat jumps — Minister knows so iqany languages he hant been particular enough to keep 'em in separate parcels, and mark 'em on the back, and they've got mixed, and sure enough I found my French was so vcrrun with other sorts, that it was better to lose the whole crop than to go to weedin, for as fast as I puMed up any strange seedlin, it would grow right up agin as qu ck as wink, if there was the least bit of root in the worlo left in Ihe groundj so I iefl it all to rot on the field. IP 64 THE CLOCKMAKRR. TluTo is no wny so ^vkI to Inrn Fronrlj ns lo live among Viii, and if you irant to unJerntund */.», i/on must line among «.<», too ; your Halls, llaiuiltons, and Do Rouses, and suoli critters, wiuit can I hey know of us I Can a clmp catch a likeness flying along the railroad ? can he even see !ho featurs ? Old Admiral Anson once axed one of our folks afore our glorious Revolution, (if the British had a know us a little grain Ix^tter at that time, they wouldn't have go whipped like a sack as they did then) whore he come from From the (^hesapooko, said he. Aye, aye, said the Ad- miral, from the VVest Indies. I guess, said the Southanef you n»ay have In'i'n clean round the worlds Admiral, but you have been plaguy little in it, not to know better nor that. I shot a wild goose at River Philip last year, v/ith the rice of Varginey fresh in his crop ; he must have cracked on near about as fast as them other geese, the British ravellers. Which know'd the most of the country they passed over, do you suppose ? I guess it was much of a muchness — near about six of one, and half a dozen of tother ; two eyes aint much better than one, if they are both blind. No, if you want to know all about us and the blue noses (a pretty considerable share of Yankee blood in them too, J tell you ; the old stock comes from New England, and the breed is tolerable pure yet, near about one half apple sarce, and tother half molasses, all except to the Easterd, where there is a cross of the Scotch,) jist ax me and I'll tell you candidly. I'm not one of thorn that can't see no good points in my neighbor's critter, and no bad ones in my own r I've seen too much of the wc»rld for that 1 guess Indeed, in a general way, I praise other folks' beasts, and keep dark about my own. Says I, when I meet Blue Noses mounted, that's a real smart horse of yourn, put him out, I guess he'll trot like mad. Well, he lets him have the spur and the critter docs his best, and then I pass him like a treak of lightning with mine. The feller looks all taken back at that. VVhy, says he, that's a real clipper of yourn, I vow. Middlin, says I, (quite cool, as if I had heerd that are same thing a thousand times,) he's good enough for me, jist a fair trotter, and nothing to brag of THE AVBlllCAlf EAOLR. 65 That goes !;<^nr nl)out ns far nj^in in a pphcral way, as a crackiii and a lM)aslin dix^s. Novrr tell folks you can go alioad on Vwn, but do it ; it spares a ijrrat deal of talk, and helps them to save their breath to cool their broth. No, if you want to know the inns and the outs of the i'ankec ? — I've wintered them and summered them ; I know all their points, shape, make, and breed ; I've tried 'era alongside of other folks, and I know where they fall short, where they mate 'em, and where they have the advantajjo about as well as some who think they know a plagy sight more. It tante them that stare the most, that see the best always, I guess. Our folks have their faults, and I know them, (I vvarnt born blind I reckon,) but your friends, tho tour writers, arc a little grain too hard on us. Our old nigger wench had several dirty, ugly lookin children, and was projxir cross to 'em. Mother ust^d to say, JunOf Us better never to wipe a child'' a nose at a//, / guess, than to wring it off. CHAPTER XII. THE AMERICAN EAGLE. JisT look out of the door, said the Clockmaker, and see what a beautiful night it is, how calm, how still, how clear it is, beant it lovely ? — I like to look up at them are stars, when I am away from home, they put me in mind of our national flag, and it is generally allowed to be the first flag in the univarse now. The British can whip all the world, and we can whip the British. Its near about the prettiest sight I know of, is one of our first class frigates, manned with our free and enlightened citizens, all ready for sea ; il is like the great American Eagle, on its perch, balancing itself for a start on the broad expanse of Mue sky afeared of nothin of its kind, and president of all it surveys. It was a good emblem that we chose, warn't it ? There was no evading so direct, and at the same time, so conceited an appeal as this. Cci'tuinW said I, the Ml IHE GLOCKMAKER. emblem was wcil chosen. I was particularly struck witli it on observing the device on your naval buttons during th« last war — an eagle with an anchor in its claws. That waa a natural idea, taken from an ordinary occurrence : a bird purloining the anchor of a frigate — an article so useful and necessary for the food of its young. It was well chosen, and exhibited great taste and judgment in the artist. The emblem is more appropriate than you are aware of— casting of what you cannot perform — grasping at what you cannot attain — an emblem of arrogance and weakness — of ill-directed ambition and vulgar pretension. Its a common phrase, said he, (with great composure) among seamen, to say * damn your buttons,' and I guess its natural for you to say so of the buttons of our navals • I guess you have a right to that are oath. Its a sore sub- ject, that, I reckon, and I believe I had'nt ought to have spoken of it to you at all. Brag is a good dog, but hold fast is a better one. He was evidently annoyed, and with his usual dexterity gave vent to his feelings, by a sally upon the blue-noses, who, he says, are a cross of English and Yankee, and therefore first cousins to us both. Perhaps, said he, that Pre Eagle might with more propriety have been taken otf us perched on an anchor, instead of holding it in his claws, and I think it would have been more nateral ; but I suppose rt was some stupid foreign artist that made that are blunder —I never seed one yet that was equal to ourn. If that Eagle is represented as trying what he cant do, its an honorable ambition arter all, but these blue-noses wont try ivhat they can do. They put me in mind of a great big hulk of a horse in a cart, that wont put hi« shoulder to thp collar at all for all the lambastin in the wo. id, but turns hii head round and looks at you, as much as to say, * what an everlastin heavy thing an empty cart is, isnt it V An Owl should he their pmblem^ and the motto, * He sleeps all the days of his hfe.^ The whole country is like this night JieautiUil to i )ok at, but silent as the grave — still as deafh asleep, bec'ilniod. If the .'.ca was always calm, said he, it would pyson the nnivarse ; no soul could breathe the air, it would be so 1 :!li:!ii THE AMERICAN EAGLE. «T ■ncommon oaJ. Stagnant water is always onpleasant, l)ul salt water whon it gets tainted beats all natur; motion keeps it sweet and wholesome, and that our mmister used fo pay is one of the * wonders of the great deep.* This proviare is stagnant ; it tante deep like still water neither for its «haUer enough, gracious knows, but it is motionless noiseless, lifeless. If you have ever be(?n to sea in a calm you'd know what a plagy tiresome thing it is for a man that's in n hurry. An everlastin flappin of the sails, and a creakin of the booms, and an onsteady pitchin of the ship, and folks lyin about dozin away their time, and the sea a heavin p. long heavy swell, like the breathin of the chist of some great monster asleep. A passenger wonders the sailors are so plagy easy about it, and he goes a lookin out east, and a spyin out west, to see if there's any chance of a breeze, and says to himself, * Well, if this aint dull music its a pity.' Then how streaked he feels when he sees a steam-boat a cJippin it by him like mad, and the folks on board pokin fun at him, and askin him if he has any word to send home. Well, he says, if any soul ever catches me on board a sail vessel again, when I can go by steam, I'll give him leave to tell me of it, that's a fact. That's partly the case here. They are becalmed, and they see us going ahead on them, till we are een amost out of sight ; yet they hant got a steamboat, and they hant got a railroad ; indeed, I doubt if one half on 'em ever seed or heerd tell of one or tother of them. I never seed any folks like 'em except the Indians, and they wont even so much as look — they havn't the least morsel of curiosity in the world ; from which one of our Unitarian preachers (they are dreadful hands at douhtin them. I dont doiiht but some day or another, they will doubt whether every hing aint a doubt) in a very lenrned work, doubts whether hoy were ever descended from Eve at alL Old mnrm Eve's children, he says, are all loct, it is said, in conse- quence of too much curiosity, while these copper coloured iblks are lost from bavin too little. How can they be the same? Thinks I, that may be logic, old Duberso»r.e, but it ant sense, dont extremes meet ? Now, thes^ llne-rcre!* ave nn motion in 'cm, no enterprise, no tyvi, ^»\^ \£ «v * k il.H i. ffS THE CLOCKMAKER. |l!i.il!j critUjr shows any symptoms of activity, tliey say he is a man of no judgment, he's speculative, he's a schemer, in short, lie's mad. They vegetate Hke a lettuce plant in sarce garden, they grow tall and spiudlin, run to seed riglU otr, grow as bitter as gaul, and die. A gall once came to our minister to hire as a house help says she, Minister, I suppose you don't want a young lady to do chamber business and breed worms, do you I For I've half a mind to take a spell at livin out fshe meant, said the clockmaker, house work and rearing silk worms.) My pretty maiden, says he, a pattin her on the cheek, (lor I've often observed old men always talk kinder plea- sant to women,) my pretty maiden, where was you brought up? Why. says she, I guess I warn't brought at all, 1 growd up. Under what platform, says he, (for he was very particular that all his house helps should go to his meetin,) under what Church platform ? Church platform, says she, with a toss of her head, like a young colt that got a check of the curb, I guess I warn't raised under a platform at all, but in as good a house as yourn, grand as you be.— You said well, said the old minister, quite shocked, when you said you growd up, dear, for you have grown up in great ipnorance. Then I guess you had better get a lady that knows more than me, says she, that's flat. I reckon I am every bit and grain as good as you be — If I don't understand a bum-byx (iilk worm) both feedin, breedin, and rearin, then I want ^o know who does, that's all , ch.irch platform, indeed, says she, I guess you were raised under a glass fi-ame in March, and transplanted on Independence day, warn't you ? And ofT she sot, lookin as scorney as a London lady, and leavin the poor minister standin starin like a stuck pig. Well, well, says he, a lirtin up both hands, and turnin up the whites of his eyes like a duck in thunder, if that don't bang the bush ! ! It fearly beats sheep shcarin, after the blackberry bushes have got the wool. It docs, I vow ; them are the tares thorfi Unitarians sow in our grain fields at night ; I guess they'll ruinate the crops yet, and make the grounds so evorhisting foul, we'll have to pare the sod and Imrn it, to kill the roots Our fathers sored the right sc{ d here in the wilderness, and ^, L THE AMERICA If EAGLE. 59 s a in in watered it with their tears, and watched over it with fastin and prayer, and now it's fairly run out, that's a fact, I snore. Its got choaked up witli all sorts of trash in natur I declare. Dear, dear, I vow I never seed the beat o' tha in all my born days. Now the blue-noses are like that are gall ; they have grown up, and grown up in ignorance of many things they hadn't owght not to know ; and its as hard to teach grown up folks as it is to break a six year old horse ; and they do ryle one's temper so — they act so ugly that it tempts one sometimes to break their confounded necks — its near about as much trouble as it's worth. What remedy is there for all this supineness, said I ; how can these people be awakened out of their ignorant slothfulness, into active exertion ? The remedy, i^aid Mr. Slick, is at hand — it is already workin its own cure. They must recede before our free and enlightened citizens, like the Indians ; our folks will buy them out, and they must give place to a more in- telligent and ac-tive people. They must go to the lands of Labrador, or be located back of Canada ; they can hold on there a few years, until the wave of civilization reaches them, and then they must move again as the savages do. It is decreed ; I hear the bugle of destiny a soundin of their retreat, as plain as anything. Congress will give them a concession of land, if they petition, away to Alleghany's backside territory, and grant them relief for a few years ; for we are out of debt, and don't know 'vhat to do with our surplus revenue. The only way to Fhime them, that I know, would be to sarve them a*? Tii'le Enoch sarved a neighbour of his in Vr.rginy. There was o lady that had a plantation near ha i to hisn, and there was only a small river atwixt the t;. - h ises, so that folks could hear each other talk across it. /ell, she was a dieadful cross grained woman, a real catai . 'Unt, as savage as a she boar that has v^ubs, an old farrow < . utcr, as ugly as sm, and one that both hooked and kicked koo^-- a most particular onmarciful she devil, that's a fact. She used to have some of her nitf'jers tie d up evory day, nntt floggjd oncommon severe, and thoir scn.Ninis and soreei'hes woie horrid — no soul could stand il ; noinin was hocra all U'-, 60 THE CLOCKMAKER. P I day but oh Tjord Missus! oh Lord Missus/ Enoch was "airly sick of the sound, for he was a tender hearted man, and says ^g to lier one day, Now do, marm, find out some other place to give your cattle the covvskin, for it worries me to hear 'em take^on so dreadful bad — I can't stand it, I \o\v ; they are flesh and blood as well as we be, though the meat is a dilferent colour ; but it was no good — she jist up and told him to mind his own business, and she guessed slie'd mmd hern, lie was determined to shame her out of it ; so one morn In arter breakfast he goes into the cane field and says he to Lavender, one of the black overseers. Mus- ter up the whole gang of slaves, every soul, and bring 'em down to the whippin post, the whole stock of them, bulls, cows, and calves. Well, away goes Lavender, and drives up all the niggers. Now you catch it, says he, you lazy villains ; I tole you so many a time — I tole you Massa he lose all patience wid you, you good for nothin rascals. I grad, upon my soul, I werry grad ; you mind now what old Lavender say anoder time. (The black overseers are always the most cruel, said the Clockmaker ; they have no sort of feeling for their own people.) Well, when they were gathered there according to or- ders, they looked streaked enough you may depend, thinkin they were going to get it all round, and the wenches they fell to a cryin, wringin their hands, aud boo-hooing like mad. Lavender was there with his cowskin, grmnin like a chessy cat, and crackin it about, ready for business. Pick me out, says Emtch, four that have the loudest voices; hard matter dat, says Lavender, hard matter dat, Massa, dey all talk loud, dey all lub talk more better nor work — de idle villains ; better gib 'em all a little tickel, jist to teach em larf on tother side of de mouth : dat side bran new, they never use it yet. Do as I order you. Sir, said Uncle, or I'll have you triced up, you cruel old rascal you. When they were picked out and sot by themselves, they hanged their heads, and looked like sheep going to the shambles. Now, says Uncle Enoch, my Pickininnies, do you sing out as loud as Nagara, at the very tip eend of vour voice— lllli!' THB AMERICAN EAGLE. 6l Dont't kill a nigjjer, pray, Let hinj lib aiwxler day. Oh Lord Missus — Oh Lord Missus, My back be very sore, No stand it any more. Oh Lord Missus — Oh Lord Missus. • And all the rest of you join chor'is, as loud as you nun awl, Oh Lord Missus. The black rascals understooo he joke real well. They larfed ready to split their sides : they fairly lay down on the ground, and rolled over and over with lafler. Well, when they came to the chorus, Oh Lord Missus, if they didn't let go, it's a pity. They made the river ring agin — they were heerd clean out to sea. All the folks ran out of the Lady's house, to see what on airth was the matter on Uncle Enoch's plantation — they thought there was actilly a rebellion there ; but when they listeu(^d awhile, and heerd it over and over again, they took the hint and returned a larfin in their sleeves. Says thoy. Master Enoch Slick, he upsides with Missus this hitch any how. Uncle never heerd any thing more of oh Lord Missus, after that. Yes, they ought to be shamed out of it, those blue-noses. When reason fails to convince, there is nothin left but ridicule. If they have no ambition, apply to their feelings, clap a blister on their pride, and it will do the business. It's like a puttin ginger under a horse's tail ; it makes him carry up real handsww, I tell you. When I was a boy, I was always late to school ; well, father's preachin I didn't mind much, but I never could bear to hear my mother say. Why Sam, are you actilly up for all day? Well, I hope your airly risin won't hurt you, I declare. What on airth is agoin to happen now ? Well, wonders will never cease. It raised my dander; at last says I, Now, mother, don't say that are uny more for gracious sake, for it makes me feel ugly, and I'll et up as airly as any on you ; and so I did, and I soon found what's wortk knowin in this life, An airly start makes easy ttages. em THE CLOCKMAKER. CHAPTER XIII. THE CLOCKMAKER'S OPINION OF IIAUFAX. ,. . . ■I The next morning was warmer than several that had receded it. It was one of those uncommonly fine days that distinguish an American autumn. I guess, said Mr. Slick, the heat to-day is like a glass of Mint Julip, with & lump of ice in it, it tastes cool and feels warm — its real good, I tell you ; I love such a day as this dearly. Its generally allowed the finest weather in the world is in America — there ant the beat of it to be found any where. He then lighted a cigar, and throwing himself back on his chair, put both feet out of the window, and sat with his arms folded, a per feet picture of happiness. You appear, said I, to have travelled over the whole of this Province, and to have observed the country and thf people with much attention, pray what is your opinion ol the present state and future prospects of Halifax ? If ya will tell me, said he, when the folks there will wake up then I can answer you, but they are fast asleep ; as to th Province, its a splendid province, and calculated to go ahead it will grow as fast as a Varginy gall, and they grow si amazin fast, if you put your arm round one of their neckj to kiss them, by the time you're done, they've grown u| into women. It's a pretty Province I tell you, good al)ove and better below ; surface covered with pastures, meadows woods, and a nation sight of water privileges, and undei the ground full of mines — it puts me in mind of the soup a the TVce-mont house. One day I was a walkin in th*^ Mall, and who should j meet but Major Bradford, a gentleman from Connecticut, that traded in calves and pumpkins for the Boston market. Says he. Slick, where do you get your r-;iib to-day ? At General Peep's tavern, says I. Only fit lor niggers, saya he: why dont you come to the Tr^-e-mont house, that's he most splendid thing its generally allowed in all thft THE CLOCKMAKER S OPIITION, ETC. 68 ush on — keep tnovin —go ahead,'' Darn it all, said the Clockmaker, rising with great a/ii- mation, clinching his fist, and extending his arm — darn it all, it fairly makes my dander rise, to see the nasty idle loungin good for nothing do little critters — they aint fit to tend a bear trap, I vow. They ought to be quilted round and round a room, like a lady's lap dog the matter of two hours a day, to keep them from dyin of apoplexy. Mush, hush, said I, Mr. Slick, you forget. Well, said he, resum- ing his usual composure — well, it's enough to make one vexed though, I declare — is'nt it 1 Mr. Slick has often alluded to this subject and always m a most decided manner* I am inclined to thmk he ih right. Mr. Howe's papers oa the railroad I redd, till ] ! J ''' 11; I I THB CLOCKMAKBR. rnmc to his ral( uliitions, but I ncvor could read figures, M cnn't cyplirr,' atxl llicro I paused; it was a harrier : I n'JnuiffMl a Irw paci's, took a runaini; leap, and cleared the whole of them. Mr. .Slick says he has under and not over rated its advantages, lie apjxiars to \H^ such a shrewd ohservinu;, intelligent man, and so perfectly at liome on these subjects, that I confess I have more faith in this hum ble but eccentric Clockmaker, tiian in any other .nan have met with in this I'rovinco. I therefore pronounce there will be a railroad.^ CHAPTER XIV. SAYINGS AND DOINGS IN CUMBERLAND. I RECKON, said the Clockmaker, as wo strolled through Amherst, you have read Hook's story of the boy that one day asked one of his father's guests who his next door neighbour was, and when he heerd his name, asked him if he warnt a fool. No, my little leller, said he, he beant b fool, he is a most particular sensible man ; but why did you ax that are question I Why, said the little boy, mother said tother day you were next door to a fool, and I wanted to know who lived next door to you. His mother felt pretty ugly, I guess, when she heerd him' run right slap on that are breaker. Now these Cumberland folks have curious next door neighbours, too; they are placed by their location right atwixt fire and water ; they have New Brunswick politica on one side, and Nova Scotia politics on tother side of them, and Bay Fundy and Bay Varte on tother two sides ; they are actilly in hot water; they are up to their croopeio in politics, and great hands for talking of House of Assembly political Unions, and what not. Like all folks who wade 80 deep, they can't always tell the natur of the ford. Some ♦imes they strike their shins agin a snag of a rock ; al otiier tiraes, they go whap into a q licksand, and if tlie^y SAYliVUS AND DOIITOS IN CUMnRRLAND. m loot ^iffht litica ^cm, [hey in Ihly |me al ney don't tnko spocial ran; tlicy nre npt to cjo sonso ovor hrnd and oars into dfcp wator. 1 t,'iH'ss il" theyM talk more of Rotations^ and U-ss of iltctions, njctro ol ilicm an- JJykrs^ and less of lianksy and attend inoi'o to top dnasingf and less to rc-dreaxin^^ it cd Ix) bettor Ibr 'oni. Now you mention tiio suhjoct, I think I liavo observed, said I, that there is a ^ro.it c'hang<; in yonr count rymen in that respect. Formtrrly, whenever you mot an Anierican, you had a disli of politics sot belbrc you, whether yen liad an appetite Ibr it or not; but lately 1 have remarked they seldom allude to it. Pray to what is this attributable? I guess, said he, they have enough of it to home, and are sick of the subject. They are cured the way our pastry cooks cure their prentices of stealing sweet notions out of their shoj)s. \\ hen they get a new prentice they tell him he must never so much as look at all them are nice things; and if he dares to lay the weight of his finger upon one of them, they'll have him up for it before a justice ; they toll him its every bit and grain as bad as stealing from a till. "Well, that's sure to set him at it, just as a high fence* doea a breechy ox, lirst to look over it, and then tn push it down with its rump; its human natur. Well, the boy eats and eats till he can't eut no longer, and then he gets sick at his stomach, and hates the very sight of sweatmeats arter- wards. We've had politics with us till we're dog sick of 'em, I teli you. Besides, I guess we are as far from perfection as when we set out a roin for it. You may get purity of Election^ but how are you to get purity of Members ? It would take a great deal of cyphering to tell that. I never heerd tell of one who had seed it. The best member I eon amost ever seed was John Adams. Well, John Adams could no more plough a straight furrow in politics than he could haul the plough himself. He might set out straight at beginnin for a littU; way, but he was sure to get crooked afore he got to the eend of tho ridge — and sometimes ho would have two or three crooks in it. I used to say to him, how on airth is it, Mr. Adams (for he was no way ])roud like, though lie was president of oar great nation, and it is aliow(;d to b(^ the greatest nation In the world, too ; for you might see him sometimes of an 70 THE CLOCKMAKBR. mi SifliMi arternoon a swimmin alonj; with the bovs in the Potomac , I ilo hnliovo that's the way ho larncd to give the lolics tiie docl_^e so spry ;) well, I used to say to him, how on airth ii" it, Mr. Aduins, you can't make straight woric on it? He was a grand hand at an excuse (ihougii minister used to jay that folks that were good at an excuse, were seldom good for notiiin flse) ; sometimes, he said, the ground was so tarnation stony, it throwed the plough out ; at other limes, he said, the off ox was such an ugly wilful tempered critter, there was no doin nothin with him ; or that there was so much machinery about the plough, it made it plaguy hard to steer, or may Imj it was the fault of them that went afore him, that tluiy laid it down so bad; unless he was liirod for another term of lour years, the work would'nt look well ; and if all them are excuses would'nt do, why he would take to scolding the nigger tliat drove the team throw all the blame on him, and order him to have an ever- lastin lacin with the cowskin. You might as well catch a weazel asleep as catch him. He had somethin the matter with one eye — well, he knew I know'd that when he was a boy ; so one day, a feller presented a petition to him, and he told him it was very affectin. Says he, it fairly draws tears from me, and his weak eye took to lettin off its water like statiee ; so as soon as the chap went, he winks to me with tother one, quite knowin, as much as to say, you see its all in my eye^ Slick, but don't let on o any one about it, that I said so. That eye was a regular cheat, a com- plete New England wooden nutmeg. Folks said that Mr. Adams was a very tender-hearted man. Perhaps he was, but I guess that eye did'nt pump its water out o' that place. Members in general aint to be depended on, I tell you. Politics makes a man as crooked as a pack does a pedlar ,* not that they are so awful heavy, neither, but it teaches a man to stoop in the long run. Artor all, there's not that ditfercnce in 'em (at least there ain't in Congress) one would tliink ; for if one of them is clear of one vice, why, as liko as not, he has another fault jist as bad. An honest far- mer, like one of these Cumlxn-land folks, when he goes to choose atwixt two that oilers for votes, is jist like the Hying fisli. That are little crittur is not content to stay to home SAYINGS AND DOIIfOS IN CUMBERLAND. 71 in the water, and mind its business, but he must t;y his hand at flyin, — and he is no great dab at flyin, neither. Well, the moment he's out of water, and takes to flyin, the sea fowl are arter him, and let him have it ; and if he has the good luck to escape them, and dive into the sea, the dolphin, as like as not, has a dig at him, that knocks more wind out of him than he got while aping the birds, a plaguy sight. I gMess the blue-noses know jist about as much about politics as this foolish fish knows about flying. AH critturs in naUtr are better in their own element. It beats cock-iightin, I tell you, to hear the blue-noses, when they get together, talk politics. Th(ry have got three or four ev.l spirits, like the Irish Banshees, that they say cause all the mischief in the Province — the Council, the Banks, tl>e House of Assembly, and the Lawyers. If a man places a higher valiation on himself than his neigh- bors do, and wants to be a magistrate before he is fit to carry tho ink horn for one, and finds himself safely deli- vered of a mistake, he says it is all owing to the Council. The members are cunning critters, too, they know this feelin, and when they come home from Assembly, and peo- ple ax 'em, * where are all them are fine things you pro- m'sed »is V Why, they say, we'd a had 'em all for you, but for that etarnal Council, they nullified all we did. The country will come to no good till them chaps show their respect for it, by covering their bottoms with homespun. If a man is so tarnation lazy he wont work, and in course has no money, why he says it all owin to the banks, they wont discount, there's no money, they've ruined the Pro- vince. If there beant a road made up to every citizen's door, away back to the woods (who as like as not has squatted there) why he says the House of Assembly have oted all the money to pay great men's salaries, and there's nothing left for poor settlers, and cross roads. Well, the awyers'Come in for their share of cake and ale, too, if they don't catch it, it's a pity. There was one Jim Munroe of Onion County, Connect! £ut, a desperate idle fellow, a great hand at singin songs, ska*in, drivin about with the gals, and so on. Well, if any body's windows were broke, it was Jim Manroe— an^ 7« THE CLOOKMAKER. rLJ; IV :hi2: fill ■I if there were ony youngsters in want of a father, they were sure to be poor Jim's. Jist so it is with the lawyers here ; they stand Godfathers for every misfortune that happens in the country. VVlien there is a mad dog a goin about, every flog that barks is said to be bit by the mad one, so he gets cr(3dit for all the mischief that every dog does for three months to come. JSo every feller that goes yelpin home from a court house, smartin from the law, swears he is bi by a lawyer. Now there may be something wrong in all these things, (and it cant l)e otherwise in natur) in Council, Banks, House of Assembly, and Lawyers : but change ihem all, and its an even chance if you don't get worse ones in their room. It is in politics as in horses ; when u man has a Ix^ast that's near about up to the notch, he'd better not swap him ; if ho does, he's een amost sure to get one not so good as his own. My rule is, Fd rather keep a critter whose faults I do knotOy than change him for a beast whose faults I dont know. CHAPTER XV. THE DANCING MASTER ABROAD I WISH that are black heifer in the kitchen would give over singing that are evcrlastin dismal tune, said the Clock- maker, it makes my head ache. You've heerd a song afore now, said he, havn't^ you, till you was fairly sick of it? for I have, I vow. The last time I was in Rhode Island, (all the galls sing there, and it's generally allowed there's no such singers anywhere ; they beat the Eye- tahans a long chalk — they sing so high some on 'em^ they go clear out o' hearin sometimes, like a lark,) well, you heerd nothing but ' Oh no, we never niention her ;' well, I grew so plagy tired of it, I used to say to myself, I'd sooner Ree it than hccr tell of it, 1 vow ; 1 wish to gracious you 'would never mention her,' for it makes me feel I'gly to Ulffllt J — ^ THE DAXCINO MASTER ABROAD. 73 hear that same tiling for ever nnd ever and nmcn thnt wny. Well, they've got a (;ant pliraso licre, * the schoohiiaster ia broad,' and every feller tells you that fifty times a-day. There was a chap said to me not long ago at Truro, Mr. Slick, this country is rapidly improving, ' the schoolmaster is abroad now,' and he looked as knowin as tliough he had found a mare's nest. So I should think, said I, and it would jist be about as well, I guess, if he'd stay to home nnd mind nis business, for your Iblks arc so consoomedly ignorant I reckon he's abroad cen amost all his time. 1 hopo, when he returns, he'll be the better of ^is travels, and that's more nor many of our young Iblks are who gu * abroad,' lor they import more airs and nonsense than the* dispose of one while, I tell you — some of the stock remains on hand all the rest of their lives. There's nothin 1 hate so much as cant, of all kinds ; its a sure sign of a tricky disposition. If you see a feller cant in religion, clap your hand into your pocket, and lay right liold of your puss, oi he'll steal it, as sure as you're alive ; and if a man cant in politics, lic'll sell you if he gets a chance, you may depend. Law and physic are jist the same, and every mite and morsel as bad. If a lawyer takes to cantin, it's like the fox preachin to the geese, he'll ea;; up his whole congregation « tuid if a doctor takes to it, he's a quack as sure as rates. The Lord have massy on you, for he v/ont. I'd sooner trust ny chance with a naked hook any time, than one that's half-covered with bad bait. The fish will sometimes Bwallow the one, without thinkin, but they get frightened at tother, turn tail, and off like a shot. Now, to change the tune, I'll give the blue-noses a new phrase. They'll have an election most likely next year, and then * the Dancin Master will he abroad.'' A candidate is a most particular polite man, and a noddin here, and a bowin there, and a shakin hands all round. Notbin nn- proves a man's manners like an elet^tion. ' The Dannn Master's abroad then ;* nothin gives the paces of|ual to that, it makes them as squirmy as an lous the road that leads to his location has been neglected, and how much he wants to find a rea' complete hand that can build a bridge over his brook, und axin him if he ever bu.'t one. When he gets the hook baited with the right fly, and the simple critter begins to jump out of water arter it, all mouth and gills, he winds up the reel, and takes leave, athinkin to himself, * now you see N^hat's to the eend of my line, I guess I'll know where to find you when I want you.* There's no sort of fishin requires so much practice as this. When bait is scarce, one worm must answer for several fish. A handful of oats in a pan, arter it brings one horse up in a pastur for the bridle, serves for anothe" • a shakin of it, is better than a givin of it — it saves the grain for another time. Its a poor business arter all, is elec- tioneering, and when * the Dancin Master is ahroadj he's as apt to teach a man to cut capers and get larfed at as anything else. It tante every one that's soople enough to dance real complete. Politics takes a great deal of time, and grinds away a man's honesty near about as fast as cleaning a knife with brick dust, *^it takes its steel out.'' What does a critter get arter all for it in this country, why nothin but expense and disappointment. As King Solo- mon says, (and that are man was up to a thing or two, you may depend, tho' our professor did say he warn't so knowin as Uncle Sam,) its all vanity and vexation of spirit. I raised a four year old colt once, half blood, a perfect pictur of a horse, and a genuine clipper, could gallop like the wind ; a real daisy, a perfect doll, had an eye like a weazel, and nostril like Commodore Rogers's speaking trumpet. Well, I took it down to the races at New York, and father he went along with me ; for says he, Sam, you don't know every thing, I guess, you hant cut your wisdom *eeth yet, and you are goin among them that's had 'em hrough their gums this while past. Well, when we gets the races, father he gets colt and puts him in an old THE DAfTCINa MASTER ABROAD. 75 old waggon, with a worn-out Dutch harness, and breast hand he looked like Old Nick that's a fact. Then he fastened a head martingale on, and buckled it to the girths atwixt his fore legs. Says I, father, what on airth are you at. I vow [ feel ashamed to be seen with such a catamaran as that, and colt looks like old Saytan himself — no soul would know him. I guess I warn't born yesterday, says he, let me be, I now what I am at. I guess I'll slip it into 'em afore I've done, as slick as a whistle. I guess I can .sp<* as far into a millstone as the best on 'em. Well, father never entered the horse at all, but stood by and seed the races, and the winnin horse was Ibllowed about by the matter of two or three thousand people a praisin of him and admirin him. They seemed as if they never had seed a horse afore. The owner of him was all up on eend a boastin of him, and a stumpin the course to produce a horso to run agin him for four hundred dollars. Father goes up to him, lookin as soil as dough, and as meechin as you please, and says he, friend, it tante every one that has four hundred dollars — its a plaguy sight of money, I tell you ; would you run for one hundred dollars, and give me i little start ? if you would, I'd try my colt out of my old waggon agin you, I vow. Let's look at your horse, says he ; so away they went, and a proper sight of people arter them to look at colt, and when they seed him they sot up such a larf, I felt een a most ready to cry for spite. Says I to myself, what can possess the old man to act arter that fashion, I do believe he has taken leave of his senses. You need'nt larf, says father, he's smarter than he looks ; onr Minister's old horse, Captain Jack, is reck- oned as quick a beast of his age as any in our location, and that are ool' can beat him for a lick of a quarter of a mile quite easy — I seed it myself. Well, they larfed agin louder than before, and says father, if you dispute my word, try me ; what odds will you give '^ Two to one, says the owner — 800 to 400 dollars. Well, that's a groat deai of money, aint it, says father ; if I was to lose it I'd look pretty foolish would'nt I. How folks would pass their jokes at me when I went home again. You would'nt take tnat are waggon and harness for fifty dollars of it, would you? says he. Well, says the other, sooner than disap- T« THE CLOGKMAKER. t -It point you, as you socm to have set your mind on losing your money, I don't care if I do. As soon as it was settled, Dither drives off to the stahlcs, and th(?n returns moL-.nted, with a red silit pocket handker- chief tied round his head, and colt a looking like himself, ns proud as a nabob, chock full of spring like the wir eend of a bran new pair of trowser gallusses — one sai that's a plaguy nice lookin colt that old feller has artcr all that horse will show play for it yet, says a third; and hecrd one feller say, 1 guess that's a regular yankce trick, a complete take in. They had a fair start for it, and olf they sot, father took the lead and kept it, and won the race, tho' it was a pretty tight scratch, for father was too old to ride colt, he was near about the matter of seventy years old. Well, when the colt was walked round after the race, there was an amazin crowd arter him, and several wanted to buy him ; but says father, how am I to get home with- out him, and what shall 1 do with that are waggon and harness so far as I be from Slickville. So he kept them in talk, till he felt their pulse pretty well, and at last he clo.«H3d with a Southerner for 700 dollars, and we returned, having made a considerable good spec of colt. Says lather to me, Sam, says he, you seed the crowd a follerin the winnin horse, when we cume there, didn't you ? Yes, sir, said I, I did. Well, when colt beat him, no one fol- lered him at all, but come a crowded about him. That's popularity, said he, soon won, soon lost— cried up sky high one minute, and deserted the next, or run down ; colt will share the samo fate. He'll get beat afore long, and then he's done for. The multitude are always fickle minded. Our great Washington found that out, and tho British officer that beat Buonaparte ; the bread they gave him turned sour afoie he got half through the loaf. His soap had hardly stifiencd afire it ran right back to lye and grease agin. I was sarved the sa!ne way, I liked to have missed my pension — the Committee said I warn't at Bunker's hill, at nil, the villans. That was a glo , (thnks I, old boy, if you once get into that are field, you'll race longer than coll, a plaguy sight ; you'll run clear away to the fence THE DAIfCmO MASTER ABROAD. 77 to the far ccnd afore you stop, so I jist cut in and took a hand myself.) Vcs, says I, you did 'cm father, properly, that old wuggon was a briglU schomo» it led 'em on till you got 'em on the right spot, did'nt it? Says father, There^s a morale >S'am, in every thing in natur. Never have nothin to do with elections, you sec the valy of popu- larity in the case of that are horse — sarvo the public U99 times, and the 1000th, if they don't agree with you, they desart and abuse you — see how they sarved old John Adams, see how they let Jefferson starve in his old age, see how good old Munroc like to have got right into jail, after his term of President was up. They may talk of independence, says father, but Sam, I'll tell you what independence is — and he gave his hands a slap agin his trowsers pocket, and made the gold eagles he won at the race all jingle agin — thatj says he, giving them another wipe with his fist, (and winkin as much as to say do you hear that, my boy) that I call independence. He was in great spirits, the old man, he was so proud of winnin the race, and puttin the ieake into the New Yorkers — he looked all dander. Let them great hungry, ill favoured, long legged bitterns, says he, (only ho called them by another name that don't sound quite pretty) from the outlandish states to Congress, talk about independence ; but Sam, said he, (hitting the shiners agin till he made them dance right up an eend in his pocket) / like to feel it. No, Sam, said he, line the pocket well first, make that independent, and then the spirit will be like a horse turned out to grass in the spring, for the first time ; he's all head and tail, a snortin and kickin and racin and carrying on like mad — it soon gets independent too. While it's in tho stall it may hold up, and paw, and whiner, and feel ui 8i)ry as any thing, hut the leather strap ke(,'ps it to th manger, and the lead weight to the eend of it makes it hold down its head at last. No, stiys he, herci's independence, and he gave the eagh's such a drive with his fist, he bust his pocket, and sent a whole raft ol' them a spinnin down his leg to the ground. Says I, Father, (and I swear f could hardly keep from larfin, he looked so j)eskily vexed) Father, says I, I guess there's a moral in that are too — Extremes nary way arc none o' » lias in New England ; the sooner he clears out the better lift. 8L1CK*S OPINIOir, ETC. 7& trap fiig. )at. for iriit llin few Yoii can no more put a leake into them, than you can tiend a chisel into Teake-wood — it turns the edge of the tool the first drive. If the blue-noses knew the value of money na well as they do, they'd have more cash, and fewer clocks and tin reflectors, I reckon. Now, its ditlerent with the Irish ; they never carry a puss, for they never have a cent to put in it. They are always in love or in liquor, or else in a row ; they are the merriest shavers I ever seed. Judge Beeler, I dare say you have heerd tell of him — he's a funny leller — he put a notice over his factory gate at Lowell, * no cigars or Irish- men admitted within these walls ;' for, said he, the one will set a flame agoin among my cottons, and t'other ac .ong my galls. I wont have no such inflammable and dangerous things about me on no account. When the British wanted our folks to join in the treaty to chock the wheels of the slave trade, I recollect hearin old John Adams say, we had ought to humour them ; for, says he, they supply us with labour on easier terms, by shippin out the Irish. Says he, they work better, and they work cheaper, and they dont live so long. The blacks, when they are past work, hang on for ever, and a proper bill of expence they be ; but hot weather and new rum rub out the poor rates for tother ones. * The English are the ooys for tradin with ; they shell out their cash like a sheaf of wheat in frosty weather — it flies all over the thrashin floor ; but then they are a cross grain- eH, ungainly, kicken breed of cattle, as I een a most ever seed. Whoever gave them the name of John Bull, knew what he was about, I tell you ; for they are all bull-necked, bull-headed folks, I vow ; sulky, ugly tempered, vicious critters, a pawin and a roarin the whole time, and plaguy onsafe unless well watched. They are as head-strong aib mules, and as coiiceited as peacocks. The astonishment with which I heard this tirade against my countrymen, absorbed every feeling of resentment. I istened with amazement at tlie perfect composure with which he uttered it. He treated it as one of those self evident truths, that need neither proof nor apology, but as a thing well known and admitted by all mankind. There's no richer sight that I know of, said he, than to 4 iii H 90 THE CLOCKHAKER. gee onn on Vm whon ho first lands in ono of our great citif& IIc! swells out as bi;^ as n IkiIIooii, his skin is ready to burst with winu — a r(!f;ulnr walking ba<; of gas; and ho prances over the pavement like a Usir over hot iron — a great awk- ward hulk of a Killer, (for they aint to be compared to the I'rench in manners) a smnkin at you, as much as to say, look here, Jonathan, lierc's an lOnglishinan ; hone's a boy that's got blood as pure as a Norman pirate, and lots of the blunt of l)oth kinds, a socket i'ull of one, and a mouthful of tothcr : beant he love-ly V and then he looks as fierce as a tiger, us much as to say, * say boo to a goosey if you dare.' No, I believe wo may stump the univarse ; we improve on every thing, and wc have improved on our own species. You'll search one while, I tell you, afore you'll find a man that, take him by and lar^, is equal to one of our free and enlightened citizens. He s the chap that has both speed, wind, and bottom ; he's clear grit — ginger to the back bone, you may de|)cnd. Its generally allowed there aint the beat of them to be found any where. Kpry as a fox, supple as an eel, and cute as a weasel. Though I say it, that shouldn't say it, they fairly take the shine off creation — they are actilly equal to cash. He looked like a man who felt that he had expressed himself so aptly and so well, that any thing additional would only weaken its eflect ; ho therefore changed th, and will lick it up as fast as you can make it. 'I'hat very bridge we hecrd of at Windsor, is owned in New llrunswick, ami will pay toll to that province. 'J'luj capitalists of Nova Scotia treat it like a hin-d house, they wont keep it in repair ; they neither paint i* to j)resarve the boards, nor stop a leak to keep the Iranie from rottin ; hut let it go to wruck sooner than drive a nail or put in a pane of glass. It will sarve our turn out, they say. Th<;ro's neither sj>irit, enterprise, nor patriotism here ; but the whole country is as inactive as a bear in winter, that dcK's nothin but scroutch up in his den, a thinkin to himself, " VVell, if I ant i\n unfortunate divil, it's a pity ; I have tt most splendid warm coat as arc a gentleman in tlicse here woods, let him be who \ir. will ; but I got no socka to my leet, and have to sit for everlastingly a suckin of my paws to keep 'em warm ; if it warn't for that, I guess I'd make some o' them chaps that have hools to their le<'t and horns to their heads, looard us. Well, w*- yawed once or twice, and motioned to him to keep off for fear he should get hurt; but he came right on afore the wheel, and I hope I may be shot if tlje paddle didn't strike the bow of the uout A^ > IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I UilM |Z5 *i^ lii 12.2 lAo 12.0 »£ 1-25 |||||JA |l.6 M 6" > ^ ^ w /. Phobgraphic Sciences Corporation \ "^ •s^ 23 WtST MAIN STRUT W»STIR,N.Y. UStO (716) ■73-4503 4^^J'% S3 THE CLOCKMAKER. iV" '11 with tliat force, it knocked up the starn like a planic tilt^ when one of the boys playing on it is heavier than t'other, and chucked him right atop of the wheel house — you never seeM a fellow in such a dunderment in your life. He had picked up a little English from seein our folks there so much, and when he got up, the first thing he said was. • Damn all sheenery, I say, whore's my boat V and he look- ed round as if he thought it had jumped on board too. Your boat, said the Captain, why I expect it's gone to the bottom, and your men have gone down to look arter it, foi we never see'd or heerd tell of one or t'other of them arter the boat was struck. Yes, I'd make 'em stare like that are Spanish officer, as if they had see'd out of their eyes for the first time. Grovernor Campbell didn't expect to see such a country as this when he came here, I reckon, I know he didn't. When I was a little boy, about knee high or so, and Uvea down Connecticut river, mother used to say, Sam, if you don't give over acting so like old Scratch, I'll send you off to Nova Scotia, as sure as you are born, I will, I vow. Well, Lord, how that are used to frighten me ; it made my liair stand right up on eeiid, like a cat's back when she's wrathy ,* it made me drop it as quick as wink — like a tin night cap put on a dipt candle agoin to bed, it put the fun right out. Neighbour Dearborn's darter married a gentle- man to Yarmouth, that speculates in the smuggling line: well when she went on board to sail down to Nova Scotia, all her folks took on as if it was a funeral ; they said she was goin to be buried alive, like the nuns in Portengale that get a frolickin, break out of the pastur, and race off, and get catched and brought back agin. Says the old Colonel, her father. Deliverance, my dear, I would sooner foller you to your grave, for that would be an eend to your troubles, than to see you go off to that dismal country that's nothin but an iceburg aground ; and he howled as loud as an Irishman that tries to wake his wife when she is dead. Awful accounts we have of the country, that's a fact ; but if the Province is not so bad as they make it out, the folks are a thousand times worse. You've seen a flock of partridges of a frosty mor-^in in the fall, a crowdin out of the shade to a sunxiy spot, and MR. SLICKS OPINION, ETC. 93 huddlm up there in the warmth — well, the blue-noses have Dothin else to do half the time but sun themselves. Whose fault is that ? Why its the fault of the legislature ? they dtnCt encourage internal improvement^ nor the investment of capital in the cotintry ; and the result is apathy^ inaction^ and poverty. They spend three months in Halifax, and what do they do? Father gave me a dollar once, to go to fhe fair at Hartford, and when I came back, says he, Sam, what have you got to show for it? Now I ax what have they to show for their three months' setting ? They misiead folks ; they make *em believe all the use of the Assembly is to bark at Councillors, Judges, Bankers, and such cattle, to keep 'em from eatin up the crops, and it actilly costs more to feed them when they are watchin, than all the others could eat if they did break a fence, and get in [ndeed, some folks say they are the most broachy of the two, and ought to go to pound themselves. If their fences are good, them hungry cattle couldn't break through ; and if they aint, they ought to stake 'em up, and with them well ; but ifs no use to make fences unless the land is culti- vated. If 1 see a farm all gone to wrack, I say here's bad- husbandry and bad management ; and if I see a Province like this, of great capacity, and great natural resources, poverty-stricken, I say, there's bad legislation. No, said he, (with an air of more seriousness than I had yet observed,) how much it is to be regretted, that, laying aside personal attacks and petty Jealousies, they would unite as one man, and with one mind and one heart apply them telves sedulously to the internal improvement a^d develop ment of this beautiful Province. Its value is utterly unknown, either to the general or local Govemvifnt, and the only persons who duly appreciate itf are the P ^^kees. 5, i r i I. P M THE CLOCKMAKRIU CHAPTER XVII. A VANFEE HANDLE FOR A HALIFAX BLADE. I MET a man this mornin, said tlie Clockmaker, from Halifax, a real conceited lookin critter as you can a most ever seed, all -hincs and didos. He looked as if he had picked up his airs arter some ofiicer of the regilars had worn 'em out and cast 'em off. They sot on him like se- cond-hand clothes, as if they had'nt been made for him and did'nt exactly lit. He looked fine, but awkward, like a captain of militia, when he gets his uniform on, to play sodger ; a ihinkin himself mighty handsMwi, and that all the world is a lookin at him. He marched up and down afore the street door like a peacock, as large as life and twice as natural ; he had a riding whip in his hand, and every now and then struck it agin his thigh, as much as to say, Aint that a splendid leg for a boot, now ? Won't I as- tonish the Amherst folks, that's all '' Thinks I you are a pretty blade, aint you ? I'd like to fit a Yankee handle on to you, that's a fact. When I came up, he held up his head near about as high as a shot factory, and stood with his fists on his hips, and eyed me from head to foot, as a shakin quaker does a town lady : as much as to say, what a queer critter you be, that's toggery I never seed afore, you're some carnal minded maiden, that's sartain. Well, says he to me, with the air of a man that chucks a cent into a beggar's hat, a fine day this, sir. Do you actilly think so? said I, and I gave it the real Connecticut drawl. Why, said he, quite short, if I did'nt think so, I ♦vould'nt say so. Well, says I, I don't know, but if I did hink so, I guess I would'nt say so. Why not ? says he — Because, 1 expect, says I, any fool could see that as well Bs me ; and then I stared at him, as much as to say, now if you like that are swap, I am ready to trade with you agin as soon as you like. Well, he turned right round on his heel and walked off, a whistlin Yankee Doodle to him- A YANKEE HANDLE, ETC. 85 afore, ihucks )o you 3cticut so, I I did he — IS well now you id on him- self, lie looked jist like a man that finds whistlin a plaguy sight easier than thinkiu. Presently, I heard him ax the groom who that are Ynnliee lookin feller wa^-. That, said the groom ; why, I guess its Mr. Slick. Sho ! ! said he, how you talk. What, Slick the Clockmaker, why it ant possible ; I wish I had a known that are afcre, I declare, for I have a great curiosity to see Mniy folks say he is amazin clever feller that — and he urned and stared, as if it was old Hickory himself. Then he walked round and about like a pig round the fence of a potatoe field, a watchin for a chance to cut in ; so, thinks I, I'll jist give him something to talk about, when ho gets back to the citj, I'll fix a Yankee handle on to him in no time. How's times to Halifax, sir, said I. — better, says he, much better, business is done on a surer bottom than ii was, and things look bright agin. So docs a candle, say [, jist afore it goes out ; it burns up ever so high, and then sinks right down, and leaves nothin behind but grease, and an everlastin bad smell. I guess they don't know how to feed their lamp, and it can't burn long on nothin. No, sir, the jig is up with Halifax, and it's all their own fault. If a man sits at his door, and sees stray cattle in his field, a eatin up of his crop, and his neighbours a cartin oflT his grain, and won't so much as go and drive 'em out, why 1 snould say it sarves him right. 1 don't exactly understand, sir, said he — thinks I, i*^ would be strange if you did, for I never see one of your folks yet that could understand a hawk from a handsaw. Well, says I, I will tell you what I mean — draw a line from Cape Sable to Cape Cansoo, right thro' the Province, and it will split it into two, this way, and I cut an apple mto two halves ; now, says I, the worst half, like the rftten half of the apple, belongs to Halifax, and the other and sound half belongs to St. John. Your side of the province on the sea-coast is all stone — I never seed such a proper sight of rocks in my life, its enough to starve a rabbit. Well, tother side on the Bay of Fundy is a superfine country, there aint the beat of it to be found any where Now, would'nt the folks living away up to the Bay be pretty fools to go to Halifax, when they can go to St. John n k'l w i J i '4' a ^ \i\^ 86 THE CLOCKMAKER. I I: with half the trouble. St. John is the natural capital of the Bay of Fundy, it will be the largest city in America, nexl to New York. It has an immense back country as big as Great Britain, a first chop river, and amazin sharp folks, most as cute as the Yankees — its a splendid location for business. Well, they draw all the produce of the Bay shores, and where the produce goes the supplies return — it will take the whole trade of the Province ; I guess your rich folks will find they've burnt their fingers, they've put their foot in it, that's a fact. Houses without tenants- wharves without shipping, a town without people — what a grand investment! ! If you have any loose dollars, let 'em out on a mortgage in Halifax, that's the security — keep clear of the country for your life — the people may run, but the town can't. No, take away the troops, ant! you're done — you'll sing the dead march folks did at Louisburg and Shelburne. Why you hant got a single thing worth havin, but a good harbour, and as for that the coast is full on 'em. You hav'nt t* pine log, a spruce board, or a refuse shingle ; you neither raise wheat, oats, or hay, nor never can ; you have no staples on airth, unless it be them iron ones for the padlocks in Bridewell — you've sowed pride, and reaped poverty, take care of your crop, for it's worth harvestin — you have no river and no country, what in the name of fortin have you to trade on ? But, said he, (and he showed the whites of his eyes like a wall-eyed horse) but, said he, Mr. Slick, how is it, then, Halifax ever grew at all, has'nt it got what it always had ; it's no worse than it was. I guess, said I, that pole aint strong enough to bear you, neither ; if you trust to that you'll be into the brook, as sure as you are born ; you once had the trade of the whole Province, but St. John has run off with that now — you've lost all but your trade in blue berries and rabbits with the niggers at Hammond Plains. You've lost your customers, your rivals have a better stand for business — they^ve got the corner store— four great streets meet there, and its near the market slip. Well, he stared ; says he, I believe you're right, but I never though* of that afore ; (thinks I, nobody ever suspect you of the trick of thinkin, that ever I heerd tell of;) some of our great rnen, said he, laid it all to your folks, selling A YANKEE HANDLE, ETC. 87 ■o many Clocks and Polyglot Bibles, they say you havo taken off a horrid sight of money. Did they, indeed, said I ; well, I guess it tante pins and needles that's the expense of house-keepin, it is something more costly than that. Well some folks say its the Banks, says he. Better still, says I, perhaps youVe hearn tell too, that greasing the axle makes a gig harder to draw, for there's jist about as much sense in that. Well then, says he, others say it* smugglin has made us so poor. That guess, said I, is most as good as tother one, whoever found out that secret ought to get a patent for it, for its worth knowin. Then the country has grown poorer, has'nt it, because it has bought cheaper this year than it did the year before ? Why, your folks are cute chaps, 1 vow ; they'd puzzle a Philadel- phia Lawyer, they are so amazin knowin. Ah, said he, and he rubb'd his hands and smiled like a young doctor, when he gets his first patient; ah, said he, if the timber duties are altered, down comes St. John, body and breeches, it's built on a poor foundation — its all show — they are Bpeculatin like mad — they'll ruin themselves. Says I, If you wait till they're dead, for ; our fortin, it will be one while I tell you, afore you pocket the shiners. Its no joke waitin for a dead man's shoes. Suppose an old feller of eighty was to say when that are young feller dies, I'm to inherit his property, what would you think? Why, I guess you'd think he was an old fool. No^ sir, if the English don't want their timber we do want it all, we have used ourn up, we hant got a stick even to whittle. If the British dont ofler we will, and St. John, like a dear little weeping widow, will dry up her tears, and take to frolickin agin and accept it right off. There is'nt at this moment such a location hardly in America, as St. John ; for beside all its other advantages, it has this great one, its only rival, Halifax, has got a dose of opium that will send it snoring out of the world, like a feller who falls asleep on the ice of a winter's nignt. It has been asleep so long, I actilly think it never will wake. Its an easy death too, you may rouse them up if you like, but I vow I wont. 1 once br »ught a feller too that was drowned, and one night he got drunk and quilted me, I could'nt walk for a week ; says I, Youre the last chap I'l f t ;1 •ft ■#■:. . 1: ■t i! I'll Si E 'i 88 THE CLOCKMAKER. ever save from drowning in all my born days, if that^s all the thanks I get for it. No, sir, Halifax has lost the run of its custom. Who docs Yarmouth trade with ? St. John. Who docs Annapolis County trade with ? St. John. Who do all the folks on the Basin of Mines, and Bay Shore, trade with? St. John. Who does Cuml)erland trade with? St. John. Well, Pictou, Lunenburg, and Liverpool supply themselves, and the rest that aint wort havin, trade with Halifax. They take down a few half-starved pigs, old vitcran geese, and long legged fowls, some ram mutton and tuf beefi ai^^ swap them for tea, sugar, and such little notions for their old women to home ; while the railroads and canals of St. John are goin to cut off your Gulf Shore trade to Miramichi, and along there. Flies live in the sum- mer and die in winter, you're jist as noisy in war as those little critters, but you sing small in peace. No, your done for, you are up a tree, you may depend, pride must fall. Your town is like a ball room arter a dance. The folks have eat, drank, and frolicked, and left an empty house ; the lamps and hangings are left, but the people are gone. Is there no remedy for this ? said he, and he looked as wild as a Cherokee Indian. Thinks I, the handle is fitten on proper tight now. Well, says I, when a man has a cold, he had ought to look out pretty sharp, afore it gets seated on his lungs ; if he don't, he gets into a gallopin consumption, and it's gone goose with him. There is a remedy, if applied in time : make a railroad to Minas Basing and you have a way for your customers to get to you, and a conveyance for your goods to them. When I was in New York last, a cousin of mine, Hezekiah Slick, said to me, I do believe, Sam, I shall be ruined ; I've lost all my custom, they are widening and improving the streets, and there's so many carts and people to work in it, folka can't come to my shop to trade, what on airth shall I do and I'm payin a dreadful high rent, too? Stop Ki, says I when the street is all finished off and slicked up, they'l oil come back agin, and a whole raft more on 'em too you'll sell twice as much as ever you did, you'll put off a proper swad of goods next year, you may depend ; and so i«e did, he made money, hand over hand. A railroad w 'I A YANKEE HANDLE. ETC. 80 bring back your customors, if done right off; but wait till trntlc has made new cliannels, and fairly gets settled in thcin, and you'll never divart it agin to all etarnity. When a feller waits till a gall gets married, I guess it will be loo late to pop the question then. St. John must go ahead, at any rate ; you maj/t if you choose, but you must exert yourselves, I tell you. If a man has only one leg, and wants to walk, he must get an artificial one. If you have no river, make a railroad, and that will supply its place. But, says he, Mr. Slick, people said it never will pay in the world, they say it's as mad a scheme as the canal. Do they, indeed, says I ; send them to me then, and I'll fit the handle on to them in tu tu's. I say it will pay, and the best proof is, our folks will take tu thirds of the stock. Did you ever hear any one else but your folks, ax whether a dose of medicine would pay when it was given to sav^r life ? If that everlastin long Erie canal can secure to New York the supply of that far off country, most tother side of creation, surely a railroad of forty-five miles can give you the trade of the Bay of Fundy. A rail- road will go from Halifax to Windsor and make them one town, easier to send goods from one to tother, than from Governor Campbell's House to Admiral Cockburn's. A bridge makes a town, a river makes a town, a canal makes a town, but a railroad is bridge, river, thoroughfare, canal^ all in one ; what a whappin large place that would make, would'nt it? It would be the dandy, that's a fact. No, when you go back, take a piece of chalk, and the first dark night, jvrite on every door in Halifax, in large ^ Uers — a railroad — and if they don't know the meanin Oi ., says you it's a Yankee word ; if you'll go to Sam Slick, the Clockmaker, the chap that fixed a Yankee handle on to a Halifax blade, (and I made him a scrape of my leg, as much as to say that's you,) every man that buys a Clock shall hear all bout a Railroad. 8* . /'.. . .-.-"-. ■ .,. - •i, *. ? :'i^-' -l 4 ■.„ X,^ 90 THE CLOCKMAKKK. CHAPTER XVIII. 'm M THE GRAHAMITE AND THE IRl&H PILOT. I THINK, said I, this is a happy country, Mi Slick The people are fortunately all of one origin, there are n national jealousies to divide, and no very violent p iitics to agitate them. They appear to be cheerful and ccatented, and are a civil, good-natured, hospitable race. Considering the unsettled state of almost every part of the world, I think I would as soon cast my lot in Nova Scotia as in any part I know of. Its a clever country, you may depend, said he, a very clever country ; full of mineral wealth, aboundin in superior water privileges and noble harbours, a large part of it prime land, and it is in the very heart of the fisheries. But the folks put me in mind of a sect in our country they call the Grahamites — they eat no meat and no exciting food, and drink nothin stronger than water. They call it Philosophy (and that is such a pretty word it has made fools of more folks than them afore now ,*) but I call it tarnation non- sense. I once travelled all through the State of Maine with one of them are chaps. He was as thin as a whippin post. His skin looked like a blown bladder arter some of the air had leaked out, kinder wrinkled and rumpled like, and his eye as dim as a lamp that's livin on a short allow- ance of ile. He put me in mind of a pair of kitchen tongs, all legs, shafl, and head, and no belly ; a real gander gutted lookin critter, as holler as a bamboo walkin can<., and twice as yaller. He actilly looked as if he had been picked off a rack at sea, and dragged through a gimlet hole. He was a lawyer. Thinks I, the Lord a massy on your clients, vou hungry, half-starved lookin critter, you, you'll eat 'em p alive as sure as the Lord made Moses. You are just the hap to stram at a gnat and swallow a camel, tank, shank. End flank, all at a gulp. Well, when we came to an inn, and a beef-steak was sol afore us for dinner, he'd say : Oh, that is too good for me. THE ORAHAMITE, ETa 01 low- lt*s too exciting ; all fat meat is diseased meat — give mo Bome bread and cheese. Well, I'd say, I dent know what you call too good, but it tante good enough for me, for I call it as tuf as laushong, and that will bear chawing all day. When I liquidate for my dinner, I like to get about the best that's goin, and I ant a bit too well pleased if don't. Exciting indeed ! ! thinks I. Lord, I should lik o see you excited, if it was only for the fun of the thing What a temptin lookin critter you'd be among the galls wouldn't you ? Why, you look like a subject the doctor boys had dropped on the road arter they had dug you up, Rnd had cut stick and run for it. Well, when tea came, he said the same thing, it's too exciting, give me some water, do ; that's follerin the law of natur. Well, says I, if that's the case you ought to ea beef; why, says he, how do you make out that are pro position ? Why, says I, if drinking water, instead of tea is natur, so is eatin grass according to natur ; now all flest: is grass, we are told, so you had better eat that and cal it vegetable ; like a man I once seed, who fasted on fish on a Friday, and when he had done, whipped a leg o' mut- ton into the oven and took it out fish ; says he it's * changed {>/ai6'6,' that's all, and * plaice^ aint a bad fish. The Catho- ics fast enough, gracious knows, but then they fast on a great rousin big salmon at two dollars and forty cents a pound, and lots of old Madeira to make it float light on the stomach ; there is some sense in mortifying the appetite arter that fashion, but plagy little in your way. No, says I, friend, you may talk about natur as you please, I've studied natur all my life, and I vow if your natur could speak out, it would tell you, it don't over half like to 1)€ starved arter that plan. If you know'd as much about the marks of the mouth as I do, you'd know that you have car- niverous as well as graniverous teeth, and that natur meant by that, you should eat most anything that are door-keeper, your nose, would give a ticket to, to pass into your mouth. Father rode a race at New York course, when he was near hand to seventy, and that's more nor you'll do, I guess, and he eats as hearty as a turkey cock, and he never con- fined himself to water neither, when he could get any thing convened hiin better. Says he, Sam, grandfather Slick .1: II ■'<■ '■i ■i .1 I %ii!'' !■ ! tS THE CLOCKMAKBR. *»sctl to any there was nn old proverb in York-hire, * a full bi'lly nmkes a strong bark,' and i guess if you try it, natiir will tell you so too. If f!ver you go to Connecticut, jisl call into liither's, and he'll give you a real right down ge- nuine New-England brcakiast, and if that don't happily your heart, then my name's not Sam Slick. It will make you leel about among the stillest, 1 t(;ll you. It will blow your jacket out like a pig at sea. You'll have to shake a reef or two out of your waistbans and make good stowage I guess, to carry it all under hatches. There's nothin like a good pastur to cover tiic ribs, and make the hide shine depend on't. . ^ Now this Province is like that arc Grahamito lawyer*? beef, it's too good for the folks that's in it ; they either don't avail its value or wont use it, because work aint arter theii * law of natur.' As you say, they are quiet enough (there's worse folks than the blue-noses, too, if you come to that,) and so they had ought to be quiet, for they have nothin to fight about. As for politics, they have nothin to desarve the name ; but they talk about it, and a plaguy sight of nonsense they do talk too. Now with us the country is divided into two parties, of the mammoth breed, the ins and the outSj the administra- tion and the opposition. But wheiVs the administration here? Where's the War Office, the Foreign Office, and the Home Office? where's the Secretary of the Navy? Where's the State Bank? where's the Ambassadors and Diplomatists (them are the boys to wind off a snarl of rav- ellins as slick as if it were on a reel) and where's that Ship of State, fitted up all the way from the forecastle clean up to the starn post, chock full of good snug berths, hand- Bomely found and furnished, tier over tier, one above anoth- er, as thick as it can hold ? That's a helm worth handlen [ tell you ; I don't wonder that folks mutiny below, and fight on the decks above for it — it makes a plaguy uproar the whole time, and keeps the passengers for everlastingly ui a state of alarm for fear they'd do mischief by bustia he byler, a runnin aground, or gettin foul of some other craft. This Province is better as it is, quieter and happier far; they have berths enough and big enough, they should be THE ORAHAMITE, ETC. 03 caroful not to incron.sc 'cm; niul i( they wore to do it over n^^'in, p(iiia|)s tluyM b*^ as well with lrw«'r. 'J'licy Iihno two |)iirtir.s iicrc, tlir* Tory juirty und tlin ()|>j)(»sitit)ii parly, find both on \'U\ run to rxtrenjes. Thmi radicals, sjiya one, ore for Icvellin all down to their own level, tho' not a po^ lower ; that's their gage, jist down to their own notch and no furtiier ; and they'd agitate the wliole eoun* try to obtain that object, lor if a man can't grow to 1k3 as tall OS his neighbour, if he cuts u few inches oil* him why then they are both of one heighth. They are a most dangerous, disalTected people — they arc eternally appealin to the worst passions of the mob. Well, says tothcr, them aristocrats, they'll ruinate the country, they spend ti»e wholr revenu on themselves. What with Bankers, Councillors, Judges, Bishops, and Public OlFicers, and a whole tribe of Lawyers, as hungry as hawks, and jist alx)ut as marcilul, the country is devoured, as if there was a llock of locusts a feedin on it. There's nothin lell for roads and bridges. When a chap sets out to canvass, he's got to antagonise one side or tother. If he hangs on to the powers that be, then he's a Council-man, he's for votin large salaries, for doin as the great people at Halifax tell him. He is a fool. If he is on tother side, a railin at Banks, Judges, Lawyers, and such cattle, and baulin for what he knows he can't get, tlien he is a rogue. So that, if you were to listen to tho weak and noisy critters on both sides, you'd believe tho House of Assembly was one-half rogues and tother half fools. All this arises from ignorance. If they knew more of each other, I guess they^d lay aside one-half their fears and all their abuse. The upper classes don't know one-half the virtue thafs in the middlin and lower classes, and they don't know one-half the integrity and good feelin that's in the others, and both are fooled and gulled by their own noisy and designin champions. Take any two men tha are by the ears, they opinionate all th(?y hear of each other impute all sorts of on worthy motives, and misconstru every act ; let them see more of each other, and they'll find out to their surprise, that they have not only been lookm through a magnifying glass that warnt very true, but a coloured one also, that changed the complexion, and distorted the features, and each one will think tother a very ^i. i)4 THE CLOCKMAKER. I Hii gnod kind of chap, and like as not a plaguy pleasant one too. V If I was axed which side was farthest from the mark in this Province, I vow I should be puzzled to say. As I don't belong to the country, and don't care a snap of my finger for either of 'em, I suppose I can judge better than any man in it, but I snore I don't think there's much dift ference. The popular side (I wont say patriotic, for we find in our steam-boats a man who has a plaguy sight of property in his portmanter is quite as anxious for its safety as him that's only one pair of yarn stockings and a clean sbiit, is for hisn) the popular side are not so well ii. .imed Rs lother, and they have the misfortin of havin their pas- sions addressed more than their reason, therefore ti^ey are often out of the way, or rather led out of it, and put astray by bad guides; well, tother side have the prcjudi'^es of birth and education to dim their vision, and are alarmed to undertake a thing, from the dread of ambush, or o; on foes, that their guides are eternally ^escrying in the mist — and beside power has a nateral tendency to corpulency. As for them guides, I'd make short v^ork of 'em if it yas me. In the last war with Britain, the Constitution fr' ^ate was close in once on the shores of Ireland, a lookin e ter some marc.iani ships, and she took on board a pilot well, he was a deep, sly, twistical lookin chap, as you an amost fcver seed. He had a sort of dark down look .bout him, and a leei out of the corner of one eye, like t norse that's goin to kick. The captain guessed he reat in his face, * well now, if I was to rur this here Yank© right slap on a rock and bilge her, the King would make c*. man of me for ever.' So says he to the first leftenant, ree^ e a rope thro' that are block at the tip eend of the fore yard, and clap a runnin nuse in it. The leftenant did it as quick as wink, and came back, and says he, I guess it's done. Now, says the Captain, look here, pilot, here's a rope you han't seed yet ; I'll jist explain the use of it to you in case you want the loan of it. If this here frigate, manned with our free and enlighted citizens, gets aground, I'll give you a Tide on the slack of that are rope, right up to that yard by the neck, by Gum. Well, it rub'd all the writin out of his n a most smothorctl— be quick, for luniven's saki;. Tiio Lord bo |»raisc(l, said father, the poor sinner is not quite dead yet. \N'hy, as I'm alive — well if that don't beat all natur, why he has hanj^ed himself by one leg, and's a swingin like a rabbit upside down, that's a fact. Why, if he aint snared, Sam ; he is properly wired I declare — I vow this is some o' your doins, Sam — well it was a clever scheme too, but a little grain too dangerous, I guess. Don't stand starin and jawin there all night, said Jim, cut me down, I tell you — or cut my throat, and be damned to you, for I'm choakin with blood. Roll over that are hogshead, old Snow, said I, till I get a top on it and cut him down ; so I soon released him, but he couldn't walk a bit. His ankle was swelled and sprained like ven- geance, and he swore one leg was near about six inches longer than tothcr. Jim Munroc, says father, little did I think I should ever see you inside my door agin, but I bid you enter now, we owe you that kindness, any how. Well, to make a long story short, Jim was so chap-fallen and so down in the mouth, he begged for heaven's sake it might be kept a secret ; he said he would run the state, if ever it got wind, he was sure he couldn't stand it. It will be one while, I guess, said father, afore you are able to run or stand either ; but if you will give me your hand, Jim, and promise to give over your evil ways, I will not only keep it secret, but you shall be a welcome guest, at old Sam Slick's once more, for the sake of your father- he was a brave man, one of the heroes of Bunker's hill, he was our sarjeant and . He promises, says I, father (for the old man had stuck his right foot out, the way he always stood when he told about the old war ; and as Jim couldn't stir a peg, it was a grand chance, and he was agoin to give him the whole revolution, from General Gage up to Independence,) he promises, says I, father. Well it was all settled, and things soon grew as calm as a pan of milk two days old; and afore a year was over, Jim was as steady agoin man as Minister Joshua Hopewell, and was marricjd to our Sail. Nothin was ever said about the snare till urter the weddin. When the minisver had 106 THE CLOCKMAREH. finiMhed nxin a bicssin, father goes up to Jim, and eayi lie, Jim Miinnx?, my boy, givin him n rousin ship on the siiouldcr that sot him u coimhin for the matter of five minutes, (for Uo was a mortal powerful man, was father,) iiin Muiiroe, my boy, says he, you've got the; uiiare round your neck, I guess now, insteatl of your leg ; the sapliu has been a fatlier to you, you may be the luthcr of many saplins. We had a most special time of it, you may depend, al except the minister ; father got liim into a corner, and gave him chapter and verst; for the whole war. Every now and then as 1 come near them, I heard Bunker's Hill, Brandy- wine, Clinton, Gates, and so on. It was broad day when we parted, and the last that went was pfjor minister. Father followe' i him clean down to the gate, and says he, Minister, we ha(?nt time this hitch, or I'd a told you all about the Evalci,ation of New York, but I'll tell you that the next time we meet. CHAPTER XXI. SETTING UP FOR GOVERNOR. I NEVER see one of them queer little old-fashioned tea- pots, like that are in the cupboard of Marm Pugwash, said the Clockmaker, that I don't think of Lawyer Crowning- shield and his wife. When I was down to Rhode Island last, I spent an evening with them. After I had been there awhile, the black house-help brought in a little home-made, dipt candle, stuck in a turnip sliced in two, to make it stand straight, and sot it down on the table. Why, says the Lawyer to his wife, Increase, my dear, what on earth iS the meanin o' that? What does little Viney mean by bringin in such a light as this, that aint fit for even a log hut of one of our free and enlightened citizens away down, east; where's the lamp? My dea^, says she, I ordered It — you know they are a goin to set you up for Goven oi next year, and I allot we must economise or we will h) SRTTIIfO UP rOR OOVERlfOR. 10" al KJ ruined— the salary is only four hundred dollars a year you know, and you'll have to give up your practice — \v« can't atlbrd nothiu now. Well, when tea was brought iti, there was a little wee china teapot, that held about the matter of half a pint or so, and cups and sarcers about the bigness of children's toys. When he seed that, he grew most neskily ryled, his under lip curled down like a peach leaf that's got a worm in it, and ho stripped his teeth and showed his grinders, like a bull dog. What foolery is this, said he? My dear, said she, it's the foolery of being Governor ; if you choose to sacrifice all your comfort to being the first rung in the ladder, dqnt blame me for it. I did'nt nomi- nate you — I had not art nor part in it. It was cooked up at that are Convention, at Town Hall. Well, he sot for some time without sayin a word, lookin as black as a thun- der cloud, just ready to make all natur crack acin. At last he gets up, and walks round behind his wife s chair, and takin her face between his two hands, he turns it up and gives her a buss that went off like a pistol — it fairly made my mouth water to see him ; thinks I, them lips aint a bad bank to deposit one's spare kisses in, neither. In- crease, my dear, said he, I believe you are half right, I'll decline to-morrow, I'll have nothin to do with it — / wont be a GovemoTf on no account. Weil, she had to haw and gee like, both a little, afore she could get her head out of his hands; and then she fldid, Zachariah, says she, how you do act, aint you ashamed ? Do for gracious sake behave yourself: and she colored up all over like a crimson piany; if you hav'nt foozled all my hair too, that's a fact, says she ; and she put her curls to rights, and looked as pleased as fun, though poutin all the time, and walked right out of the room. Pre- sently in come two well dressed house-helps, one with a splendid gilt lamp, a real London touch, and another with a tea tray, with a large solid silver coffee-pot, and tea-pot, and a cream jug, and sugar bowl, of the same genuine metal, and a most an elegant set of real gilt china. Then *n came Marm Crowningshield, herself, lookin as proud as if she would not call the President her cousin; and she gave the Lawyer a look, as much as to say, I guess when 108 THE CLOCKMAKER. .\fr. Slick is gone, I'll pay you ofT that are kiss with inter- est, you dear you — I'll answer a biU at sight for it, I will yoii may depend. I believe, said he agin, you are right. Increase, my dear, its an expensive kind of honor that bein Governor, and no great thanks neither ; great cry and little wool, all talk and no cider — its enough I guess for a man to govern his own family, aint it, dear? Sartin, my love, said she, sartin, a man is never so much in his own proper sphere as there ; and beside, said she, his will is supreme to home, there is no danger of any one non- concurring him there, and she gave me a sly look, as much as to say, I If him think he is master in his own house, ybr when ladies wear the breecheSf their petticoats ought to be long enough to hide them ; but I allot, Mr. Slick, you cah see with half an eye that the * grey mare is the better horse here.* What a pity it is, continued the Clockmaker, that the blue-noses would not take a leaf out of Marm Crowning- sliield's book — talk more of their own affairs and less of politics. I'm sick of the everlastin sound of * House of As- sembly,' and * Council,' and * great folks.' They never alleviate talking about them from July to etarnity. I had a curious conversation about politics once, away up to the right here. Do you see that are house, said he, in the field, that's got a lurch to leeward, like a north river sloop, struck with a squall, off West Point, lopsided like ? It looks like Seth Pine, a tailor down to Hartford, that had one leg shorter than tother, when he stood at ease at militia trninin, a restin on the littlest one. Well, I had a special frolic there the last time I passed this way. I lost the linch pin out of my forred axle, and I turned up there to get it sot to rights. Just as I drove through the gate, I saw the eldest gall a nxakin for the house for dear life — she had a short pe-ticoat on that looked like a kilt, and her bare legs put me in mind of the long shanks of a bittern down in a rush swamp, a drivin away like mad full chizcl arter a frog. I could not think what on airth was the matter. Thinks I, she wants to make herself look decent like afore I get in, she don't like to pull her stockings on afore me so I pulls up the old horse, and let her have a fair start SETTING UP FOR GOVERNOR. 1(19 Well, when 1 came to the door, I heard a proper scuddm, there was a regular flight into Egypt, jist such a noise as httie children make when the mistress comes suddenly into school, all a huddlin and scroudgin into their seats as quick as wink. Dear me, says the old woman, as she put her head out of a broken window to avail who it was, is it you Mr. Slick ? I sniggers, if you did not frighten us properly we actilly thought it was the Sheriff; do come in. Poor thing, she looked half starved and half savage^ hunger and temper had made proper strong lines in her face, like water furrows in a ploughed field; she looked bony and thin, like a horse that has had more work than oats, and had a wicked expression, as though it war'nt over safe to come too near her heels — an everlastin kicker. You may come out, John, said she to her husband, its only Mr. Slick ; and out came John from under the bed back- wards, on all fours, like an ox out of the shoein frame, or a lobster skullin wrong eend foremost — he looked as wild as a hawk. Well, I swan I thought I should have split, I could hardly keep from bursting right out with larfler — he was all covered with feathers, lint, and dust, the savins oi all the sweepins since the house was built, shoved under there for tidiness. He actilly sneezed for the matter of ten minutes — he seemed half-choked with the flaff and stuff, that came out with him like a cloud. Lord, he looked like a goose half-picked, as if all the quills were gone, but the pen feathers and down were left, jist ready for singin and stuffin. He put me in mind of a sick Adjutant, a great tall hulkin bird, that comes from the East Indgies, a most as high as a man, and most as knowin as a blue-nose. I'd a ginn a hundred doLars to have had that chap as a show at a fair — tar and feathers warn't half as nateral. You've seen a gall both larf and cry at the same time, hante you ? well, I hope I may be shot if I could'nt have done the same. To see that critter come like a turkey out of a bag al Christmas, to be fired at for two cents a shot, was as good as a play : but to look round and see the poverty — the half naked children — the old pine stumps (or «:lKiirs — a small bin of poor watery yallor potatoes in the corner — dayli<>hi through the sides and roof of the house, looking like the tarred seams of a ship, all black where the srnoke gol ou Mr P I no THE CLOCKMAKER. L — no utensils for cookin or eatin — and starvation wrote as |)lain as a handbill on their holler cheeks, skinny fingers, and sunk eyes, went right straight to the heart. 1 do declare I believe I should have cried, only they did'nt seem to mind it themselves. They had been used to it, lik6 a man that's married to a thunderin ugly wife, he gets so accustomed to the look of her everlastin dismal mug, that he don't think ker ugly at all. Well, there was another chap a settin by the fire, and he did look as if he saw it and felt it too, he did'nt seem ovei half pleased, you may depend. He was the District School- master, and he told me he was Lakin a spell at boardin there, for it was their turn to keep him. Thinks I to my- self, poor devil, you've brought your pigs to a pretty market, that's a fact. I see how it is, the blue-noses can't * cypher.* The cat's out of the bag now — its no wonder they don't go ahead, for they don't know nothin — the * Schoolmaster is abroad^* with the devil to it, for he has no home at all. Why, Squire, you might jist as well expect a horse to go right off in gear, before he is halter broke, as a blue-nose to get on in the world, when he has got no schoolin. But to get back to my story. Well, says I, how's times with you, Mrs. Spry ? Dull, says she, very dull, there's no markets now, things don't fetch nothin. Thinks I, some folks had'nt ought to complain of markets, for they don't raise nothin to sell, but I did'nt say so ; for poverty is keen enough, without sharpening its edge bypokinfun at it. Potatoes, says I, will fetch a good price this fall, for its a short crop in a general way ; how's yourn ? Grand, says she, as complete as ever you seed ; our tops were small and did'nt look well ; but we have the handsomest bottoms, it is generally allowed, in all our place ; you never seed the beat of them, they are actilly worth lookin at. I vow I had to take a chaw of tobacky to keep from snorting right out, it sounded so queer like. Thinks I to myself* old lady, it's a pity you could'nt be changed eend for eeno then, as some folks do their stockings : it would improve the looks of your dial plate amazinly then, that's a fact. Now, there was human natur, squire, said the Clock- maker, there was pride even in that hovel. It is found in •ags as well, as kings' robes, where butter is spread with f i SErTING UP FOR GOVERNOR. Ill .he thumb as well as the silver knife, natur is nature irher ever ijou Jind it. Jist then, in came one or two neighbour? to see the sport, for they took me for a shorifT or a constable, or something of that breed, and when they saw it was me they sot down to hear the news ; they fell right to at politics as keen as anything, as if it had been a dish of real Connecticut Slap Jacks, or Hominy ; or what is better still, a glass of rea genuine splendid mint julep, whe-eu-vpf it fairly makes my mouth water to think of it. I wonder, says one, what they will do for us this winter in the House of Assembly? Nothin, says the other, thoy never do nothin but what the great peeple at Halifax tell 'em. Squire Yeoman is the man, he'll pay up the great folks this hitch, he'll let 'em have their own, he's jist the boy that can do it. Says I, 1 wish I could say all men were as honest then, for I am afeard there are a great many wont pay me up this win- ter; I should like to trade with your friend, who is he? Why, says he, he is the member for Isle Sable County, and if he don't let the great folks have it, it's a pity. Who do you call great folks, for, said I, I vow, I havn't seed one since I came here. The only one that I know that comes near hand to one is Nicholc^ Overknocker, that lives all along shore, about Margaret'^ Bay, and he is a great man, it takes a yoke of oxen to drag him. When I first seed him, says I, what on airth is the matter o' that man, has he the dropsy, for he is actilly the greatest man I ever seed ; he must weigh the matter of five hundred weight ; he'd cut three inches on the rib, he must have a proper sight of lard, that chap? No, says I, don't call 'em great men, for there amt a great man in the country, that's a fact ; there aint one that desarves the name ; folks will only larf at you if you talk that way. There may be some rich men, and I believe there be, and it's a pity there warn't more on 'em, and a still greater pity they have so little spirit or enterprise mong em, but a countrv is none the worse havinj' rich men in it, you may depend. Great folks ! well, come, that's a good joke, that bangs the bush. No, my friend, says 1, the meat that's at the top of the barrel, is sohietimes not so good as that thaCs a little grain loicer down : the upper If;/: 112 THL CLOCKMAKER. and lower ecnds are plaguy apt to have a little taint in em but the middle is always good. Well, says the blue-nose, perhaps they beant great men, exactly in that sense, but they are great men compared to us poor folks ; and they eat up all the revenue, there's nothin left for roads and bridges, they want to ruin the country, that's a fact. Want to ruin your granny, says 1, (for it raised my dander to hear the critter talk such non- sense,) I did hear of one chap, says I, that sot fire to his own house once, up to Squantum, but the cunnin rascal insured it first; now how can your great folks ruin the country without ruinin themselves, unless they have insured the Province? our folks will insure all creation for half nothin, but I never heerd tell of a country being insured agin rich men. Now if you ever go to Wall Street to get such a policy, leave the door open behind you, that's all ; or they'll grab right hold of you, shave your head and Dlister it, clap a strait jacket on you, and whip you right into a mad house, afore you can say Jack Robinson. No, your great men are nothin but rich men, and I can tell you for your comfort, there's nothin to hinder you from bein rich too, if you will take the same means as they did. They were once all as poor folks as you be, or their fathers afore them ; for I know their whole breed, seed, and generation, and they wouldn't thank you to tell them that you knew their fathers and grandfathers, I tell you. If ever you want the loan of a hundred pounds from any of them, keep dark about that— ^see as far ahead as you please, but it tante always pleasant to have folks see too far back. Perhaps they be a little proud or so, but that's nateral ; all folks that grow up right off, like a mushroom in one night, are apt to think no small beer of themselves. A cabbage has plaguy large leaves to th» bottom, and spreads them out as wide as an old woman's petticoats, to hide the ground it sprung from, and conceal its extraction, but what's that to you ? If they get too large salaries, dock 'em down at once, but don't keep talkin about it for everlastinly. If you have too many sarvants, pay some of 'em off, or when they ([uit your sarvice don't hire others in their room, that's all * but you miss your mark when you keen firin away tht whole blessed time that way. - v ... SETTIRO UP FOR GOVERNOR. 113 I went out a gunnin when I was a boy, and father went with me to teach me. Well the first flock of plover I see'd 1 let slip at them and missed them. Says father, says he, What a blockhead you be, Sam, that's your own fault, they were too far off, you had'nt ought to have fired so soon. At Bunker's hill we let the British come right on till we seed the whites of their eyes, and then we let them have it slap bang. Well, I felt kinder grigged at missin my shot, and I didn't over half like to be scolded too ; so says I, Yes, father ; but recollect you had a mud bank to hide behind, where you were proper safe, and you had a rest for your guns too ; but as soon as you seed a little more than the whites of their eyes, you run for your dear life, full split, and so I don't see much to brag on in that arter all, so come now. I'll teach you to talk that way, you puppy you, said he, of that glorious day ; and he fetched me a wipe that I do believe, if I hadn't a dodged, would have spoiled my gunnin for that hitch ; so I gave him a wide birth arter that all day. Well, the next time I miss- ed, says I, she hung fire so everlastinly, it's no wonder and the next miss, says I, the powder is no good, I vow. Well, I missed every shot, and I had an excuse for every one on 'em — the fiint was bad, or she flashed in the pan, or the shot scaled, or something or another ; and when all would'nt do, I swore the gun was no good at all. Now, says father, (and he edged up all the time, to pay me off for that hit at his Bunker hill story, which was the only shot I did'ut miss,) you han't got the right reason arter all. It was your own fault, Sam. Now that's jist the case with you; you may blame Banks and Council, and House of Assembly, and * the great men,' till you are tired, but it's all your own fault — you've no spirit and no enterprise, you want industry and economy; use them, and you'll soon be as rich as the people at Halifax you call great folks — they did'nt grow rich by talking, but by workin; instead of lookin after other folks' business, they looked about the keenest artnr their own. You are like the machinery of one of our boats, good enough, and strong enough, but of no airthly use till you get the steam up ; you want to be set in motion, and then you'll go ahead like any thing, you naay depend. 8 <; Wj^ f- r 114 THB CLOCKMAKBR. iwive up pohticg — Ws a barren Jleld, and well watched too ; where one critter jumps a fence into a good field and gets fat, more nor twenty are chased round and round, by a whole pack of yelpin curs, till they are fairly beat out, and eend by bein half starved, and are at the liftin at last. Look to your farms — your water powers ~^our fisheries, and factories. In shorty says I, puttin on my hat and startin, look to yourselves, and don't look to others. \ I CHAPTER XXII. .% A CURE FOR CONCEIT. Its a most curious unaccountable thing, but it's a fact, said the Clockn.aker, the blue-noses are so conceited, they think they know every thing ; and yet there aint a livin Boul in Nova Scotia knows his own business real complete, farmer or fisherman, lawyer or doctor, or any other folk. A farmer said to me one day, up to Pugnose's inn, at River Philip, Mr. Slick, says he, I allot this aint * a bread country;^ I intend to sell off the house I improve, and go to the States. If it aint a bread country, said I, I never see'd one that was. There is more bread used here, made of best superfine flour, and No. 1. Genessec, than in any other place of the same population in the univarse. You might as well say it aint a clock country, when, to my sartm knowledge, there are more clocks than bibles in it. I guess you expect to raise your bread ready made, don'i you ? Well there's only one class of our free and enlight- cned citizens that can do that, and that's them that are born with silver spoons in their mouths. It's a pity you wasn't availed of this truth, afore you up killoch and off- — take my dvice and bide where you be. Well, the fishermen are jist as bad. The nert time you go into the fish-market at Halifax, stump sou'J5 you and 1 don't agree on, and most likely never will, seein that you are a Popish priest ; but in that idee I do opinionate with you, and I wish, with all my heart, all the Torld thought with us. I guess he didn't half like that are word Popish priest, :t seemed to grig him like ; his face looked kinder ryled, like well water arter a heavy rain ; and said he, Mr. Slick, says he, your country is a free country, aint it? The freest, says I, on the face of the airth — you can't " ditto' it nowhere. We are as free as the air, and when our dander's up, stronger than any hurricane you ever see'd — tear*4jp all creation most ; there aint the beat of it fcO be found anywhere. Do you call this a fre3 country ? said he. Pretty considerable middlin, says I, seein thai they are under a king. Well, says he, if you were seen in Connecticut a shakin hands along with a Popish priest, as you are pleased to call me, (and he made me a bow, as much as to say, mind your trumps the next deal) as you now ar« in the streets of Halifax along with me, with all FATHER JOIIX O'SIIAUGHNKSSV. 12«> ever of it Ifitry 1 that seen )riest, |w, a? you thaU vo'jr crnckiii and Imnstin of your frcf^dom, I frncss von wouldn't sr'll a clock agin in that Stato for one wiiiu', I tell you — and he bid me good mornin and turned away. Father John ! says I. — I can't stop, says he; I must s( o that poor cl'itter's family ; they must be in great trouble, and a sick visit is afore controvarsy in my creed. Well, says I, one word with you afore you go ; if that arc namo Prpish priest was an ongentcel one, I ax your pardon ; I didn't mean no offence, 1 do assure you, and I'll say this for your satisfaction, tu, you're the first man in this Pro- vince that ever gave me a real right down complete check- mate since I first sot foot in it, I'll be skinned if you aint. Yes, said Mr. Slick, Father John was right; these an- tagonizing chaps ought to be well quilted, the wliole raft of 'em. It fairly makes me sick to see the folks, each on 'em a backin up of their own man. At it agin, says one ; fair play, says another ; stick it into him, says a third ; and that's your sort, says a fourth. Them are the folks who do mischief. They show such clear grit it fairly frightens me. It makes my hair stand right up an eend to see ministers do that are. It appears to me that I could write a book in favour of myself and my notions, without writin agin any one, and if I couldn't I wouldn't write at all, I snore. Our old minister, Mr. Hopewell, (a real good man, and a lamed man too that,) they sent to him once to write agin the Unitarians for they are agoin ahead like statiee in New England, but he refused. Said he, Sam, says he, when I first went to Cambridge, there was a boxer and wrastler came there, and h(i beat every one wherever he went. Well, old Mr. Possit Was the Church of England parson at Charlestown, at the time, and a terri- ble powerful man he was — a rael sneezer, and as active as weasel. Well, the boxer met him one day, a little way out of town, a takin of his evenin walk, and stfld he, Par- son, says he, they say you are a most plaguy strong man and uncommon stiff too. Now, says he, I never scc'd a man yet that was a match for me; would you have any objection jist to let me be availed of your strength here in a friendly way, by ourselves, where no soul would be the wiser ; if you will I'll keep dark about it, I swan. Go your way, said the Parson, and tempt me not ; you arc a 9 I— 130 THE CLOCKMAKER. I it ,'arnal mindod, wicked man, and I take no pleasure in such vain, idle sports, ^'^ery well, said the boxer; now here I stand, says he, in the path, right slap afore you • if you pass round me, then I take it as a sign that you are afcar'd on me, and if you keep the path, why then you must first put me out — that's a fact. The Parson jist made a spring forrard and kitched him up as quick as wink, and throNved him right over the fence whap on the broad of his back, and t^en walked on as if nothin had happened— as demure as you please, and lookin as meek as if but- ter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Stop, said the boxer, as soon as he picked himself up, stop Parson, said he, that's a good man, and jist chuck over my horse too, will you, for I swan I believe you could do one near about as easy as tother. My I said he, if that don't bang the bush ; you are another guess chap from what I took you to be, any how. Now, said Mr. Hopewell, says he, I won't write, but if are a Unitarian crosses my path, I'll jist over the fence with him in no time, as the parson did the boxer ; for writin only aggravates your opponents, and never con- vinces them. I never see'd a convart made by that way yet; but im tell you what I have see'd, a man set his otvn jlock a doubtin by his own writin. You may hap- pify your enemies, cantankerate your opponents, and in- jure your own cause by it, but I defy you to sarve it. These writers, said he, put me in mind of that are boxer's pupils. He would sometimes set two on 'em to spar ; well, they'd put on their gloves, and begin, larfin and jokin, all in good humour. Presently one on 'em would put in a pretty hard blow ; well, tother would return it in airnest. Oh, says the other, if that's your play, off gloves and at it ; and sure enough, away would fly their gloves, and at it they'd go tooth and nail. No, Sam, the misfortin is, we are all apt to think Scriptur intended for our neighbors, and not for ourselves. The poor all think it made for the rich. Look at that are Dives, they say, what an all fired scrape he got into by his avarice, with Lazarus ; and aint it writ as plain as any thing, that them folks will find it as easy to go to heaven, as for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. FATHER JOHN O'SHAUGIfESSY. idi think Well, then, the rich think it all made for the poor — that fhey sharnt steal nor bear false witness, but shall be obe- dient to them that's in authority. And as for them are Unitarians, and he always got his dander up when he spoke of them, why there's no doin nothin with tnem, says he. When they get fairly stumped, and you pro- duce a text that they can't get over, nor get round, why they say it tante *.n our version at all — that's an interpola- tion, it's an invention of them are everlastin monks; there's nothin left for you to do with them, but to sarve them as Parson Possit detailed the boxer — lay right hold of 'em and chuck 'em over the fence, even if they were as big as all out doors. That's what our folks ought to have done with 'em at first, pitched 'em clean out of the state, and let 'em go down to Nova Scotia, or some such outlandish place, for they aint fit to live in no Christian country at all. Fightin is no way to make convarts ; the true way is to win ^em. You may stop a man's mouth, Sam, says he, by a crammin a book down his throat, but you wont con- vince him. It's a fine thing to write a book all covered over with Latin, and Greek, and Hebrew, like a bridle that's real jam, all spangled with brass nails, but who knows whether it's right or wrong? Why not one in ten thousand. If I had my religion to choose, and warn't able to judge for myself, I'll tell you what I'd dc : I'd jist ask myself who leads the best lives? Now, says he, Sam, I won't say who do, because it would look like vanity to say it was the folks who hold to our platform, bu* "'11 teli you who don't. It aint them that makes the greatest pro- fessions always ; and mind what I tell you, Sam, when you go a tradin with your clocks away down east to Nova Scotia, and them wild provinces, keep a bright look out op, thorn as cant too much, for a long face is phiguy apt to over a long conscience — that's % fact. 132 THE CLOCKMAKER. .» CHAPTER XXV. TAMING A SHREW. The road from Amherst to Parrsboro' is tedious ano uninteresting. In places it is made so straight, that you can see several miles of it before you, which produces an appearance of interminable length, while the stunted growth of the spruce and birch trees bespeaks a cold, thin soil, and invests the scene with a melancholy and sterile aspect. Here and there occurs a little valley, with its meandering stream, and verdant and fertile intervale, which though possessing nothing peculiar to distinguish it from man]f others of the same kind, strikes the traveller as superior to them all, from the contrast to the surrounding country. One of these secluded spots attracted my attention, from the number and neatness of the buildings which its pro- prietor, a tanner and currier, had erected for the purposes of his trade. Mr. Slick said, he knew him, and he guessed it was a pity he couldn't keep his wife in as good order as he did his factory. They don't hitch their horses together well at all. He is properly henpecked, said he; he is afeerd to call his soul his own, and he leads the life of a dog ; you never seed the beat of it, I vow. Did you ever see a rooster hatch a brood of chickens ? No, said I, not that I can recollect. Well, then I have, said he, and if he don't look like a fool all the time he is scttin on the eggs, its a pity ; no soul could help larfin to see him. Our old nigger, January Snow, had a spite agin one of father's roosters, seein that he was a coward, and wouldn't fi^ht. He used to call him Dearborne, arter our General that behaved so ugly to Canada : and says he one day, I guess you are no better than a hen, you everlasting old chicken- hearted villain, and I'll make you a larfin stock to all the poultry. I'll put a trick on you you'll bear in nimd all your born days. So he catches old Dearborne, and pulls all tiie featheis off his breast, and strips him as naked as when he vas uorn, from his throat clean down to his tp'l, TAMING A SHREW 133 and then takes a bundle of nettles and gives him a proper swiuhin that stung him, and made him smart like mad ; ihcn he warms some eggs and puts them in a nest, and sets I he old cock right a top of *em. Well, the warmth of the t^ggs felt good to the poor critter's naked belly, and kinder kept the itchiu of the nettles down, and he was glad to hide where he was, and whenever he was tired and g(jt off, his skin felt so cold, hoM run right back and squat down agin, and when his feathers began to grow, and he got obstrop- olous, he got another ticklin with the nettles, that made him return double quick to his location. In a little time he larnt the trade real complete. Now, this John Porter, (and there he is on the bridge I vow, I never seed the beat o' that, speak of old Saytin and he's sure to appear ;) well, he's jist like old Dearborne, only fit to hatch eggs. When he came to the bridge, Mr. Slick stopped his horse, to shake hands with Porter, whom he recognized as an old acquaintance and customer. He en- quired after a bark mill he had smuggled from the States for him, and enlarged on the value of such a machine, and the cleverness of his countrymen who invented such useful and profitable articles , and was recommending a new pro- cess of tanning, when a female voice from the house was heard, vociferating, * John Porter, come here this minute.' * Coming, my dear,' said the husband. * Come here, I say, directly, why do you stand talking to that yankee villam there V The poor husband hung his head, looked silly, and bidding us good bye, returned slowly to the house. As we drove on, Mr. Slick said, that was me — I did that. Did what ? said I. That was me that sent him back, I called him and not his wife. I had that are bestowment ever since I was knee high or so ; I'm a rael complete hand at Ventriloquism ; I can take off any man's voice I ever heard to the very nines. If there was a law agin forgin that, as there is for handwritin, I guess I should have been hanged long ago. I've had high goes with it many a time, but its plaguy dangersome, and I dont practise it now but seldom. I had a real bout with that are citizen's wife once, and completely broke her m for him : she went as gentle as a circus horse for a space, but he let her have her head agin and she's as bad as ever now. I'll tell you how 'l was. 134 THB OLOCKMAKBR. HI I 1 was down to the Island a scllin clocks, and who should I meet but John Porter ; well, I traded with him for one part cash, puit triirk, and pror/?/rc, Jind also put oil' on him that are bark mill you hccrd me axin about, and it was pretty considerable on in the ovpninalore wc finished our trade- i came home alun<; with him, and had the clock in the waggon to fix it up for him, and to show him how to regilate it. Well, as we neared the house, ho began to fret and take on dreidful oneasy ; says he, I hope Jane wont be abed, cause if she is sheMl act ugly, I do suppose. I had heerd tell of her afore ; how she used to carry a stiff upper lip, and make him and the broomstick well acquainted together ; and, says I, why do you put up with her tan- trums, I'd make a fair division of the house with her, if it was me, I'd take the inside and allocate her the outside of it pretty quick, that's a fact. Well, when v/e came to the house, there was no light in it, and the poor critter looked so streaked and down in the mouth, I felt proper sorry for him- When he rapped at the door, she called out, Who's there 1 It's me, dear, says Porter. You, is it, said she, then you may stay where you be, them as gave you your supper, may give you your bed, instead of sendin you sneakin home at night like a thief. Said I, in a whisper, says I, Leave her to me, John Porter — jist take the horses up to the barn, and see arter them, and I'll manage her for you, I'll make her as sweet vTs sugary candy, never fear. The barn you see is a good piece oS" the eastward of the house ; and as soon as he was clevftw^y out of hearin, says I, a imitatin of his voice to the life. Do let me in, Jane, says I, that's a dear critter, I've brought you home some things you'll like, I know. Well, she was an awful jealous critter ; says she. Take em to her you spent the evenin with, I don't want you nor your presents neither. Arter a good deal of coaxin I stood on the tother tack, and began to threaten to break the door down ; says I, You old unhansum lookin sinner, you vinerger cruet you, open the door this minit or I'll smash it right in. That grigged her properly, it made her very wrathy (for nothin sets up a woman's spunk like callin her ugly, she gets her back right up like a cat when a strange iog comes near her ; she's all eyes, claws and bristles). T AMI NO A SHREW. 139 I fieerd her bounce right out of bed, and she came to tho door QH she wns, ondressod, and onbolted it ; and us 1 rn« lercd it, slio fetched me a 1k)X right across my cho<;l< with the dui of her hand, that made it tingle agin. I'll teach you to call names agin, says she, you varmint. It was jist what I wanted; 1 pushed the door tu with my foot, and seizin her by the arm with one liund, 1 quilted her with the horsewhip real handsum with the other. At first sht roared like mad ; I'll give you the ten commandments, says she (meaning her ten claws), I'll pay you for this, you cowardly villain, to strike a woman. How dare you lift your hand, John Porter, to your lawful wife, and so on ; all the time runnin round and round, like a colt that's a breakin, with the mouthin bit, rarein, kickin, and plungin like statiee. Then she began to give in. Says she, 1 beg pardon, on my knees I beg pardon — don't mur- der me, fbi Heaven's sake — don't dear John, don't murder your poor wife, that's a dear, I'll do as you bid me, I pro- mise to behave well, upon my honour I do— oh ! dear John, do forgive me, do dear. When I had her properly brought too, for havin nothin on but a thin under garment every crack of the whip told like a notch on a baker's taliy ; says I, take that as a taste of what you'll catch, when you act that way like old Scratch. Now go and dress yourself, and get supper for me and a stranger 1 have brought home along with me, and be quick, for I vow I'll be master in my own house. She moaned like a dog hit with a stone, hulf whine, half yelp ; dear, dear, says she, if I aint all covered over with welts as big as my finger, I do believe I'm flayed alive ; and she boohood right out like any thing. I guess, said I, you've got 'em where folks wont see 'em, any how, and I calculate you won't be over forrard to show 'em where they be. But come, says I, be a stirrin, or I'll quilt you agin as sure as you're alive — I'll tan your hide for you, you may depend, you old ungainly tempered heifer you. When I went to the barn, says I, John Porter, your wifa made right at me, like one ravin distracted mad, when , opened the door, thinking it was you ; and I was obliged to give her a crack or two of the cowskin to get clear of her. It has efllectuated a cure completely ; now Toller it tif and ^*: ! ! m 136 THE CLOC& MAKER. don't let on for your life it warn't you that did it, and you'll be master once more in your own house. She's all docity jist now, keep her so. As we returned we saw a light in the kcepin room, the fire was blazin up cheerful- some, and Marm Po; ter moved about as brisk as a parched pea, though as silent as dumb, and our supper was ready in no time. As soon as she took her seat and sot down, she sprung right up on eend, as if she sot on a pan of hot coals, and coloured all over ; and then tears started in her eyes. Thinks I to myself, I calculate I wrote that are lesson in large letters any how, I read that writin without spellin, and no mistake; I guess you've got pretty well warmed thereabouts this hitch. Then she tried it again^ first she sot on one leg, then on the tother, quite oneasy and then right atwixt both, a fidgettin about dreadfully, like a man that's rode all day on a bad saddle, and lost a little leather on the way. If you had seed how she staret at Porter, it would have made you snicker. She could'iv credit her eyes. He warn't drunk, and he warn't crazy but there he sot as peeked and as meechin as you please She seemed all struck up of a heap at his rebellion. The next day when I was about startin, I advised him to act like a man, and keep the weather gage now he had it, and all would be well ; but the poor critter only held on a day or two, she soon got the upper hand of him, and made him confess all, and by all accounts he leads a worse life now than ever. I put that are trick on him jist to try him, and I sec its gone goose with him ; the jig is up with him, she'll soon call him with a whistle like a dog. I often think of the hornpipe she danced there in the dark along with me to the music of my whip — she touched it off in great style, that's a fact. 1 shall mind that go one while, I promise you. It was actilly equal to a play at old Bowry. You may depend, Squire, the only way to tame a shrew is by the cowskin. Grandfather Slick was raised all along the coast of Kent in old England, and he used to say there was an old saying there, which, I expect, is not far off the mark ; ' A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree, The more yon lick 'em tlie better they be.' ^i ' , THE minister's HORN MUO 137 CHAPTER XXVI. THE MINISTER'S HORN MUG. »*uis country, said Mr. Slick, abounds in superior mill fi alleges, and one would naterally calculate that such a iput of water power would have led to a knowledge of machinery. I guess if a blue-nose was to go to one of our frbe and enlightened citizens, and tell him Nova Scotia was intersected with rivers and brooks in all directions, and nearly one quarter of it covered with water, he'd say, well I'll start right off and see it, I vow, for I guess I'll lam Bomethin. I allot I'll get another wrinkle away down east there. With such splendid chances for cAperimentin, what first-chop mills they must have, to a sartainty. I'll see such new combinations, and such new applications of the force of water to motion, that I'll make my fortin, for we can improve on any thing amost. Well, he'd find his mis- take out, I guess, as I did once, when I took passage in the flight at New York for Providence, and found myself the next mornin clean out to sea, steerin away for Cape Hatte- ras, in the Charleston steamer. He'd find he'd gone to the wrong place, I reckon ; there aint a mill of any kind in the province fit to be seen. If we had 'em, we'd sarve 'em as we do the gamblin houses down south, pull 'em right down, there wouldn't be one on 'em left in eight and forty hours. Some domestic factories they ought to have here : it's an essential part of the social system. Now we've run to the other extreme, its got to be too big an interest with us, and aint suited to the political institutions of our great country. Natur designed us for an agricultural people, and our government war predicated on the supposition that we would be so. Mr. Hopewell was of the same opinion. He was a g»eat hand at gardenin, orchardin, farmin, and what not. One evenin I was up to his house, and says he, Sam, what do you say to a bottle of my old genuine cider, ' f; jss I got some that will take the shine off your fathei'a 12* I|n|i|i!ii liii' illll 138 THE CLOCKMAKER. Dy a long chalk, much as the old gentleman brags of hWn — I never bring it out afore him. He thinks he has the best in all Connecticut. It's an innocent ambition that ; and Sam, it would be but a poor thing for me to gratity my pride, at the expense of humblin his'n. So I never lets on that I have any better, but keep dark about this superfine particular article of mine, for I'd as lives he'd think so as not. He was a real prhmtive good man was minister, got some, said he, that was bottled that very year that glo- rious action was fought atween the Constitution and the Guerriere. Perhaps the whole world couldn't show such a brilliant whippin as that was. It was a splendid deed, that's a fact. The British can whip the whole airth, and •ve can whip the British. It was a bright promise for our young eagle, a noble bird that, too ; great strength, great courage, and surpassing sagacity. Well, he went down to the cellar, and brought up a bot- tle, with a stick tied to its neck, and day and date to it, like the lye-bills on the trees in Squire Hendrick's garden- I like to see them are cobwebs, says he, as he brushed 'em off, they are like grey hairs in an old man's head, they indicate venerable old age. As he uncorked it, says he, I guess, Sam, this will wami your gizzard, my boy ; I guess our great nation may be stumped to produce more eleganter liquor than this here. It's the dandy, that's a fact. That, said he, a smackin his lips, and lookin at its sparklin top, and layin back his head, and tippin off a horn mug brim full of it — that said he — and his eyes twinkled agin, for it was plaguy strong — that is the produce of my own orchard. Well, I said, minister, says I, I never see you a swiggin it out of that are horn mug, that I don't think of one of your texts. What's that, Sam ? says he — for you always had a most a special memory when you was a boy ; why, says I, * that the horn of the righteous man shall be exalted,' I guess that's what they mean by exalten the horn,' aint it ? Lord, if ever you was to New >)r\eenSf and seed a black thunder cloud rise right up and *\3ver the whole sky in a minit, you'd a thought of it if you had seed his face. It looked as dark as Egypt. For shame, says he, Sam, that's ondecent ; and let me tell you that a man that jokes on auch subjects, snows both a lack' of wit THE MINISTER'S HO!lir MUfi. 139 and sense too. I like mirth, you know I do, for it^s only the Pharisees and hypocrites that wear long faces, but then mirth must* 1x3 innocent to please me ; and when I see a man make merry with serious things, I set him down as a lost sheep. That comes of your speculation to Lowell ; and, I vow, them factorin towns will corrupt our youth of both sexes, and become hotbeds of iniquity. Evil commu nications endamnify good manners, as sure as rates ; one scabby sheep will infect a whole flock — vice is as catchin cts that nasty disease the Scotch have, its got by shakin hands, and both eend in the same way — in brimstone. 1 approbate domestic factories, but nothin further for us. It don't suit us or our institutions. -A republic is only calcu- lated for an enlightened and vartuous people, and folks chiefly in the farmin line. That is an innocent and a happy vocation. Agriculture was ordained by Him as made us, for our chief occupation. Thinks I, here's a pretty how do you do; Fm in for it now, that's a fact ; he'll jist fall to and read a regular sarmon, and he knows so many by heart he'll never stop It would take a Philadelphia lawyer to answer him. So, says I, Minister, I ax your pardon, I feel very ugly at havin given you offence, but I didn't mean it, I do assure you. It jist popt out unexpectedly, like a cork out of one of them are cider bottles. I'll do my possibles that the like don't happen agin, you may depend ; so 'spose we drink a glass to our reconciliation. That I will, said and we will have another bottle too, but 1 must put a little water into my glass, (and he dwelt on that word, and looked at me quite feelin, as much as to say, don't for goodness sake make use of that are word horn agin, for its a joke I don't like,) for my head hantc quite the strength my cider has. Taste this, Sam, said he, (openin of another bottle,) its of the same age as the last, but made of different apples, and I am fairly stumped sometimes to say which is best. These are the pleasures, says he, of country life. A man's own labor provides him with food, and an appetite to enjoy it. Let him look which way he will, and he sees the goodness and bounty of his Creator, in his wisdom, his power, and his majesty. There never was anything so true, as that are old say in, * man made the town, but God iO THB CLOCKMAKEIU made the country/ and both bespeak their different archi* tects in terms too plain to be misunderstood. The one ia filled with virtue and the other with vice. One is the aoodo of plenty, and the other of want ; one is a ware-duck of nice pure water — and tother one a cess-pool. Our towns are gcttin so commercial and factoring, that they will soon generate mobs, Sam, (how true that are has turned out, haint it ? He could see near about as far into a mill-stone as them that picks the hole into it,) and mobs will introduce disobedience and defiance to laws, and that must eend in anarchy and bloodshed. No, said the old man, raising his voice, and giving the table a wipe with his fist that made the glasses all jingle agiij, give me the country ; that coun- try to which he that made it said, " Bring forth grass, the herb yieldin seed, and the tree yieldin fruit," and who saw it that it was good. Let me jine with the feathered tribe in the mornin, (I hope you get up airly now, Sam ; when you was a boy there was no gittin you out of bed at no rate,) and at sun-set, in the hymns which they utter in full tide of song to their Creator. Let me pour out the thank- fulness of my heart to the Giver of all good things, for the numerous blessings I enjoy, and intreat him to bless my in- crease, that I may have wherewithal to relieve the wants jf others, as he prevents and relieves mine. No I give me the country. Its Minister was jist like a horso that has the spavin ; he sot off considerable stiff at first, but when he once got under way, he got on like a house a fire. He went like the wind full split. He was jus beginnin to warm on the subject, and I knew if he did, what wonderful bottom he had ; how he would hang on for ever amost ; so says I, I think so too minister, I like the country, I always sleep better there than in towns ; it tante so plaguy hot, nor so noisy neither, and then it's a pleasant thing to set out on the stoop and smoke in the cool, aint it ? I think, says I, too. Minister, that are uncommon handsum cider of yourn desarves a pipe, what do you think? Well, says he, I think myself a pipe wouldn't be amiss, and I got some rael good Varginy, as you een amost ever seed, a present from Rowland Randolph, an old college chum ; and none the worse to my palate, Sam, for bringin by-gone recollections with it. Phosbe, my dear, said he, to his dai THE MINISTER'S HORN MUO. 141 ter, bring the pipes and tobacco. As soon as the old gen- tleman fairly got a pipe in his mouth, I give PhoBl)e a wink, as much as to say, warnt that well done. That's what 1 call a most particular handsum fix. He can talk now (and that / do like to hear him do,) but .e can't make a speech, or preach a sarmon, and that / don't like to hea him do, except on Sabbath day, or up to Town Hall, o oration times. Minister was an uncommon pleasant man, (for ther was nothin amost he didn't know,) except when he got his dander up, and then he did spin out his yarns for ever- lastinly. But I'm of his opinion. If the folks here want their country to go ahead, they must honour the plough, and General Campbell ought to hammer that are into their nod- dles, full chisel, as hard as he can drive. I could lam him somethin, I guess, about hammerin he aint up to. It tante every one that knows how to beat a thing into a man's head. How could I have sold so many thousand clocks, if I hadn't had that nack. Why, I wouldn't have sold half a dozen, you may depend. Agriculture is not only neglected but degraded here. What a number of young folks there seem to be in these parts, a ridin about, titivated out real jam, in their goto- meetin clothes, a doin nbthin. It's melancholy to thinlc on it. That's the effect of the last war. The idleness and extravagance of those times took root, and bore fruit abun- dantly, and now the young people are above their business. They are too high in the instep, that's a fact. Old Drivvle, down here to Maccan, said to me one day. For gracious sake^ says he, Mr. Slick, do tell mc what 1 shall do with Johnny. His mother sets great store by him, and thinks he's the makins of a considerable smart man — he's growin up fast now, and l am pretty well to do in the world, and reasonable forehanded, but I dont know what the dogs to put him to. The Lawyers are like spiders, they've eat up all the flies, and I guess they'll have to eat each other soon, for there's more on 'em than causes now every court. The Doctors' trade is a poor one, too, they don't gi-. barely cash enough to pay for their medicines; I never sec^d a country practitioner yei 143 THE CLOCXMAKER. 'ii! that made any thing worth spcakin of. Then, as for preachin, why church and dissenters are pretty much tarred with the same stick, they live in the same pastur with their flocks ; and, between *em, '♦'s fed down pretty close I tell you. What would you d . se me to do with him ] Well, says I, I'll tell you if you won't be miffy with me. Mitiy with you indeed, said he, I guess ril be very much obliged to you ; it tante every day one gets a chance- to consult with a person of your experience — 1 count it quite a privilege to have the opinion of such an understandin man as you be. Well, says I, take a stick and give him a rael good quiltin, jist tantune him like blazes, and set him to work. — What does the critter want ? you have a good farm for him, let him go and aim his bread ; and when he can raise that, let him get a wife to make butter for it ; and when he has more of both than he wants, let him sell 'em and lay up his money, and he will soon have his bread buttered on both sides — put him to, eh ! why put him to the Plough, the most nateral, the most happy, the most innocent, and the most healthy employment in the world* But, said the old man (and he did not look over half pleased) markets are so con- founded dull, labour so high, and the banks and great folks a swallerin all up so, there don't seem much encourage- ment for farmers, its hard rubbin, now-a-days, to live by the plough — he'll be a hard workin poor man all his days. Oh 1 says I, if he wants to get rich by farmin, he can do that too. Let him sell his wheat, and eat his oatmeal and rye ; send his beef, mutton, and poultry to market, and eat his pork and potatoes, make his own cloth, weave his own linen, and keep out of shops, and he'll soon grow rich — there are more fortins got by savin than by makin, I guess, a plaguy sight — he cant cat his cake and have it too, that's a fact. No, make a fanner of him, and you will have the satisfaction of seeing him an honest, an indepen- dent, and a respectable member of society — more honest than traders, more independent than professional men, and more respectable than either. Ahem ' says Marm Drivvle, and she began to clear her fhroat for action ; she slumped down her nittin, and c'awed • ff her spectacles, and looked right straight at me, so av *■ n THE WHITE NIOGER. 14S take good aim. I seed a regular norwcstor a bruin, I knew It would bust somewhere sartan, and make al! smoke agin, so I cleared out and left old Drivvle to stand the squall. I conceit he must have had a tempestical time of it, for she had got her Ebenczer up, and looked like a proper sneezi;r Make her Johnny a farmer, eh ? I guess that was too much lor the like o' her to stomach. Pride, Squire, continued the Clockmaker, (with such an air of concern, that, I verily believe, the man feels an interest in the welfare of a Province, in which he has spent so long a time,) Pride, Squire, and a false pride, too, is the ruin of this country, I hope I may he skinned if it tante, . CHAPTER XXVII. her a* \y THE WHITE NIGGER. One of the most amiable, and at the same time most amusing traits, in the Clockmaker's character, was the attachment and kindness with which he regarded his horse. He considered * Old Clay' as far above a Provincial horse, as he did one of his * free and enlightened citizens' superior to a blue-nose. He treated him as a travelling companion, and when conversation flagged betw^een us, would often soliloquise to him, a habit contracted from pursuing his journeys alone. Well now, he would say, * Old Clay,' I guess you took your time agoin up that are hill — s'pose we prt»gress now. Go along, you old sculpin, and turn out yoii r toes. I reckon you are as deff as a shad, do you hear there ' go ahead, Old Clay.* There now, he'd say. Squire, flint that dreadful pretty ? There's action. That looks about right — legs all under him — gathers all up snug — no bobbin of his head — no rollin of his shoulders — no wabblin of his hind parts, but steady as a pump bolt, and the motion all underneath. When he fairly lays himself to it, he trots like all vengeance. Then look at his ears, jist like rabbits, none o' your flc-p ears like them Amherst beasts, half horsey '^ ]44 THE CLOCKMAKER. !.;■ A hair pigs, but strait up and pinctod, and not too near al the tips ; for that arc, 1 concait, always shows a horse aint true to draw. There are only two things^ Squire, worth lookin at in a horse, action and soundness, for 1 never saio a critter that had good action that was a bad beast. Old Clay puts mc in mind of one of our free and enlightened . Excuse me, said I, Mr. Slick, but really you appropriate that word * free' to your countrymen, as if you thought no other people in the world were entitled to it but yourselves. Neither they be, said he. We first sot the example. Look at our declaration of independence. It was writ by Jeffer- son, and he was the first man of the age, perhaps the world never seed his ditto. It's a beautiful piece of pennMinship that, he gave the British the butt eend of his mind there. I calculate you couldn't fait it in no particular, it's generally allowed to be his cap shief. In the first page of it, second section, and first varse, are these words, *We hold this truth to be self>evident, that all men are created equal.' I guess King George turned his quid when he read that. It was somethin to chaw on, he hadn't been used to the flavor of, I reckon. Jefferson forgot to insert one little word, said I, he should have said, * all white men ;' for as it now stands, it is a practical untruth, in a country which tolerates domestic slavery in its worst and most forbidding form. It is a decla- ration of shame, and not of independence. It is as perfect a misnomer as ever I knew. Well, said he, I must admit there is a screw loose somewhere thereabouts, and I wish it would convene to Congress to do somethin or another about our niggers, but I am not quite certified how that is to be sot to rights — I concait that you don't understand us. But, said he, (evading the subject with his usual dexterity,) we deal only in niggers, — and those thick skulled, crooked shanked, flat footed, long heeled, woolly headed gentlemen, don't seem fit for much else but slavery, 1 do suppose ; they nint fit to contrive for themselves. They are just like grasb- hoppers ; they dance and sing all summer, and when winter comes they have nothin provided for it, and lay down and die. They require some one to see arter them. Now, we deal in bhck niggers only, but the blue-noses sell their own THE WHITE NIGGER. H5 species — they trade in white slaves. Thank God, said 1 filavery does not exist in any part of his Majesty's domi- nions now, we have at last wiped oft' that national stain. Not quite, I guess, said he, with an air of triumph, it tanto done with in Nova Scotia, for I have seeM these human cattle sales with my own eyes — I was availed of the truth of it up hr-? to old Furlong's, last November. Pll tell you the story, said he ; and as this story of the Clockmaker's contained some extraordinary statements which I had never heard of before, I noted it in my journal, for the purpose of ascertaining their truth ; and, if founded on fact, of laying them before the proper authorities. Last fall, said he, I was on my way to Partridge Island, to ship oft* some truck and produce I had taken in, in the way of trade ; and as I neared old Furlong's house, I see'd an amazin crowd of folks about the door ; I said to myself says I, who's dead, and what's to pay now — what on airth is the meanin of all this? Is it a vandew, or a weddin, or a rolin frolic, or a religious stir, or what is it 1 Thinks I, I'll Bee — so I hitches oM Clay to the fence, and walks in. It was sometime afore I was able to s wiggle my way thro' the crowd, and get into the house. And when I diil, who should I see but Deacon Westfall, a smooth faced, slick haired, meechin lookin chap as you'd see in a hundred, a standin on a stool, with an auctioneer's hammer in his hand ; and afore him was one Jerry Oaks and his wife, and two little orphan children, the prettiest Uttle toads I ever beheld in al\ my born days. Gentlemen, said ne, I will begin the sale by putting up Jerry Oaks, of Apple River, he's a consider- able lF a smart man yet, and can do many little chores besides feedir the children and pigs, I guess he's near about worth his keep. Will you warrant him sound, wind and limb ? says a tall, ragged lookin countryman, for he looks to me as if he was foundered in both feet, and had a string halt into the bargain. When you are as old as I be, says Jerry, mayhap you may be foundered too, young man ; I have seen the day when you wouldn't dare to pass that joke on me, big as jou be. Will any gentleman bid for him, says the deacon, he's cheap at Is. 6d. Why deacon, said Jerry, why surely your honor isn't agoin for to sell me separate from my poor old wife, are you 1 Fifty years have 10 '^^' 14A THK GIOCKMAV^R. we iived together as man and wife, and a good wife has she been to mc, through all my troubles and trials, and Gou knows I have had enough of *em. No one knows my ways and ailments but her, and who can tend me so kind, or who will bear with the complaints of a poor old man but his wife. Do, Deacon, and Heaven bless you for it, and yours, do sell us together ; we have but a few days to live now death will divide us soon enough. Leave her to close my dd eyes, when the struggle comes ; and when it comes t£i TI1£ DAIRY. As we approached within AAeen or twenty miles- of Parrsboro\ a sudden turn of the road brought us directly in front of a large wooden house, consisting of two stories and an immense roof, the height of which edifice was much mcreased by a stone foundation, rising several feet above ground. Now, did you ever see, said Mr. Slick, such a catamaran as that j there's a proper goney for you, for to go and raise such a buildin as that are, and he as much use for it, J do suppose, as my old waggon here has for a fifth wheel. Blue-nose always take keer to have a big house, cause it shows a big man, and one that's considerable fore- handed, and pretty well to do in the world. These Nova Scotians turn up their blue-noses, as a bottle nose porpoise turns up his snout, and puff and snort exactly like him at a small house. If neighbor Carrit has a two story house all filled with winders, like Sandy Hook lighthouse, neighbor Parsnip must add jist two feet more on to the post of hisn, and about as much more to the rafler, to go a head of him ; 80 all these long sarce gentlemen strive who can get the furdcst in the sky, away from their farms. In New Eng. land our maxim is a small house, and a most an everlastin almighty big barn ; but these critters revarse it, they have little hovels for their cattle, about the bigness of a good sizeable bear trap, and a house for the humans as grand as Noah's Ark. Well, jist look at it and see what a figur it does cut. An old hat stufled into one pane of glass, and an old flannel petticoat, as yaller as jaundice, in another, finish riRE in TMR DAIRY. 140 .ng. off the front ; an old pair of breeches, nnd Ihe pad of a b»..n now cart-saddio worn out, titivate the eond, while the backside is all closed up on account of the wind. When it rains, if there aint a pretty how-do-you-do, it's a pity — beds toated out of this room und tubs set in tother to catch sotl water to wash ; while the clapboards, loose at the eends, go clap, clap, cjup, like galls a hacklin flax, and the winders and doors keep a dancin to the music. The only dry place in the house is in the chimbley corner, where the folks all huddle up, as an old hen and her chickens do under a cart of a wet day. I wish I had the matter of a half a dozen pound of nails, (you'll hear the old gentleman in the grand house say,) I'll Ik; darned if I don't, for if I had I'd fix Miem are clapboards, I guess they'll go for it some o' these days. I wish you had, his wife would say, for they do make a most particular unhansum clatter, that's a fact ; and so they let it be till the next tempestical time comes, and then they wish agin. Now this grand house has only two rooms down stairs, that are altogether slicked up and finished off complete, the other is jist petitioned off rough like, one half great dark entries, and tother half places that look a plaguy sight more like packin boxes than rooms. Well, all up stairs is a great onfurnished place, filled with every sort of good for nothin trumpery in natur — barrels without eends— corn cobs half husked — cast off clothes and bits of old harness, sheep skins, hides, and wool, apples, one half rotten, and tother half squashed — a thousand or two of shingles that have bust their withs, and broke loose all over the floor, hay rakes, forks, and sickles, without handles or teeth ; rusty scythes, and odds and eends with- out number. When any thing is wanted, then there is a general overhaul of the whole cargo, and away they get shifted forrard, one by one, all handled over and chucked info a heap together till the lost one is found ; and the next time awiy they get pitched to the starn agin, higglety, pig- glcty, heels over head, like sheep taken a split for it over a wall ; only they increase in number each move, cause som^ on 'em are sure to get broke into more pieces than here was afore. Whenever I sec one of these grand houses, and a hat lookin out o' the winder with nary head in it tliinks I. I'll be darned if that's a place for a wooden clock, I >'! 150 THE CliOCKHAKER. i Ml' m," i|!.ii( I' f ir«; nothin short of a London touch would go down with them fulks^ so I calculate I wont alight. Whenever you come to such a grand place as this, Squire depend on't the farm is all of a piece, great crops of this- tles, and an everlastin yield of weeds, and cattle the best fed in the country, for they are always in the grain fields or mowin lands, and the pigs a rootin in the potatoe patchesi. A spic and span new gig at the door, shinin like the mu banks of Windsor, when the sun's on *em, and an old wrack of a hay waggin, with its tongue onhitched, and stickin out behind, like a pig's tail, all indicate a big man. He's above thinkin of farmin tools, he sees to the bran new gig, and the hired helps look arter the carts. Catch him with his go- to-meetin clothes on, a rubbin agin their nasty greasy axles, like a tarry nigger ; not he, indeed, he'd stick you up with it. The last time I canie by here, it was a little bit arter day light down, rainin cats and dogs, and as dark as Egypt , so, thinks I, I'll jist turn in hero for shelter to Squire Bill Blake's. Well, I knocks away at the front door, till I thought I'd a split it in ; but arter a rappin awhile to no purpose, and findin no one come, I gropes my way round to the back door, and opens it, and feelin all along the par- tition for the latch of the keepin room, without finding it, I knocks agin, when some one from inside calls out * walk.' Thinks I, I don't cleverly know whether that indicates * walk in,' or * walk out,' its plaguy short metre, that's a fact; but I'll see any how. Well, arter gropin abouf awhile, at last I got hold of the string and lifted the k jh and walked in, and there sot old Marm Blake, close into one corner of the chimblcy fire place, a see-sawin in a rockin chair, and a half grov n black house-help, half asleep m tother corner, a scroudj^in up over the embers. Who bo you 1 said Marm Blake, for I can't see you. A stranger said I. Beck, says shr, speakin to the black heifer in the corner, Beck, says sho agin, raism her voice, I believe you are as dof as a post, get up this minit and stir the coals, til I see the man. Arter iho coals were stirred into a blaze the old lady surveyed me from head to foot, then she axed me my name, and where I came from, where 1 was ogoin an4 what my b»sino-ss was. I guess, said she, you must t*IRE llf IHB DAIRY. 1.1 must be reasonable wot, sit to the fire and dry yourself, or may- hap your health may be endamnified p'raps. So I sot down, and we soon got pretty considerably well acquainted, and quite sociable like, and her tongue, when it fairly waked up, began to run like a mill race when the gate's up. I hadn't been talkin long, 'fore I well nigh lost sight of her altogether agin, for little Beck began to flourish about her broom, right and left, in great style, a clearin up and she did raise such an auful thick cloud o' dust, 1 didn't know if I should ever sec or breathe either agin. Well, when all was sot to rights and the fire made up, the old lady began to apologize for havin no candles ; she said she'd had a grand tea party the night afore, and used them all up, and a whole sight of vittals too, the old man hadn't been well since, and had gone to bed airly. But, says she, I do wish with all my heart you had a come last night, for we had a most a special supper — punkin pies and dough nuts, and apple sarce, and a roast goose stuflfed with Indian puddin, and a pig's harslet stewed in molasses and onions, and I don't know what all, and the fore part of to-day folks called to finish. I actilly have nothin left to set afore you ; for it was none o' your skim-milk parties, but superfine uppercrust real jam, and we made clean work of it. But I'll make some tea, any how, for you, and perhaps, arter that, said she, alterin of her tone, perhaps you'll expound the Scriptures, for it's one while since I've hcerd them laid •pen powerfully. I hant been fairly lifted up since that good man Judas Oglethrop travelled this road, and then sho gave a groan and hung down her head, and looked corner- ways, to see how the land lay thereabouts. The tea kettle was accordingly put on, and some lard fried into oil, and poured into a tumbler ; which, with the aid of an inch of cotton wick, served as a make shift for a candle. Well, arter tea we sat and chatted awhile about fashions, and markets, and sarmons, and scandal, and all sorts o* things : and, in the midst of it, in runs th(^ nigger wench, Bcreamin out at the tip cend of her voire, oh Missus Missus ! there's fire in the Dairy, fire in the Dairy ! I'l give it to you for that, said the old lady* I'll give it to you for that, you good for nothin hussy, that's all your careless- ness, go and put it out this minit, how on airth did it get 152 THE CLOCKMAKER. lil'l'' 1 1 llll' '.here ? my night's milk gone, 'I dare say ; run this miuit and put it out and save the milk. I am dreadful afeard of fire, I always was from a boy, and seein the poor foolish critter seize a broom in her fright, I ups with the tea kettle and follows her ; and away we dipt thro' the entry, she callin out mind the cellar door on the right, take keer of the close horse on the ieil, and so on, but as I couldn't see nothin, I kept right straight ahead. At last my foot kotch- ed in somethin or another, that pitched me somewhat less than a rod or so, right agin the poor black critter, and away we went heels over head. I heerd a splash and a groan, and I smelt somethin plaguy sour, but I couldn't see nothin ; at last I got hold of her and lifted her up, for she didn't scream, but made a strange kind of choakin noise, and by this time up came Marm Blake with a light. If poor Beck didn't let go then in airnest, and sing out for dear life, its a pity, for she had gone head first into the swill tub, and the tea kettle had s<:alded her feet. She kept a dancin right up and down, like one ravin distracted mad, and boohood like any thing, clawin away at her head the whole time, to clear away the stuff that stuck to her wool. I held in as long as I could, till I thought I should have busted, for no soul could help larfin, and at last I haw hawed right out. You good for nothir stupid slut, you, said the old lady to poor Beck, it sarves you right, you had no business to leave it there — I'll pay you. But, said I, interferin for the unfortunate critter. Good gracious, Marm ! you forget the fire. No I don't, said she, I see him, and seesin the broom that had fallen from the nigger's hand, she exclaimed, I see him, the nasty varmint, and began to belabor most onmarcifuUy a poor half-starved cur that the noise had attracted to the entry. I'll teach you, said she, to drink milk ; I'll lam you to steal info the dairy, and the besot critter joined chorus with Beck, and hey both yelled together, till they fairly made the house ring agin. Presently old Squire Blake popt his head out of a door, and rubbin his eyes, half asleep and half awake «aid. What the Devil's to pay now, wife? Why nothin, says she, only, * fre's in the dairy,^ and Beck's in the swill tub, that's nil. Well, don't make such a touss, tnen, said Ii:.' A BODY WITHOUT A HEAD. 153 he, if that^s all, and he shot tu the door, and went tc bed agin. When we returned to the kcepin room, the old lady told me that they always had had a dog called * Fire* ever since her grandfather, Major Donald Eraser's time, and what was very odd, says she, every one on *em would drink milk if he had a chance. By this time the shower was over, and the moon shinin so bright and clear that I thought Fd better be up and stirrin, and arter slippin a few cents into the poor nigger wench's hand, I took leave of the grand folks in the big house. Now, Squire, among these middlin sized farmers you may lay this down as a rule — The bigger the houses the bigger the fools be thafs in it. But, howsomever, I never cal! to mind that are go in the big house, up to the right, that I don't snicker when I think of * Fire in the dairy.'' CHAPTER XXIX. A BODY WITHOUT A HEADi I' I ALLOT you had ought to visit our great country. Squire, said the Clockmaker, afore you quit for good and all. I calculate you don't understand us. The most spl end ii location atween the Poles is the United States, and the ^^si man alive is Gineral Jackson, the hero of the age, !.in that's skeered the British out cf their seven senses. 1 . ;en there's the great Daniel Webster, it's generally allowed, he's the greatest orator on the face of the airth, by a long chalk, and Mr. Van Buren, and Mr. Clay, and Amos Kindle, and Judge White, and a whole raft of statesmen up to everything and all manner of politics ; there aint the beat of 'em to be found any where. If you was to heat *em I concait you'd hear genuine pure English for once, any how; for it's generally allowed we speak English bettei than the British. They all know me to be an American citizen here, by my talk, for wc speak it complete in New Eofjland. ■"•I 111 '■; ll!|.. i i i;^li :1 m iilj 154 TH.^ CLOCKMAKER. , Yea, if > ou want to see a free people — them that makftt their own la.ws, accordin to their own notions — go to the States. Indeed, if you can fait them at all, they are a little grain too free. Our folks have their head a tri»le too much, sometimes, particularly in Elections both in free- dom of speech and freedom of Press. One hadn't ought to blart right out always all that comes uppermost. A horse that's too free frets himself and his rider too, and both on 'cm lose flesh in the long run. I'd ecu a most as lieves use the whip sometimes, as to be for everlastinly a puUin at the rchi. One's arm gets plaguy tired, that's a fact. I often think of a lesson I larnt Jehiel Quirk once, for lettin hia tongue outrun his good manners. I was down to Rhode Island one summer, to lam gildin and bronzin, so as to give the finishin touch to my clocks. Well, the folks elected me a hogreave, jist to poke fun at me, and Mr. Jehiel, a bean pole of a lawyer, was at the bottom of it. So one day, up to Town Hall, where there was an oration to be delivered on our Independence, jist afore the orator commenced, in runs Jehiel in a most allfired hurry ; and says he, I wonder, says he, if there's are a hog- reave here, because if there be I require a turn of his olBce. And then, said he, a lookin up to me and callin out at the tip eend of his voice, Mr. Hogreave Slick, says he, here's a job out here for you. Folks snickered a gooa deal, and I felt my spunk a risin like half flood that's a fact, but I bit in my breath, and spoke quite cool. Possible, says I ; well duty, I do suppose, must be done, though it tante the most agreeable in the world. I've been a thinkin, says I, that I would be liable to a fine of filly cents forsuf- ferin a hog to run at large, and as you are the biggest one, 1 presume in all Rhode Island, I'll jist begin by ringin your nose, to prevent you for the futur from pokin your snout where you hadn't ought to — and I seized him by the nose and nearly wrung it off. Well, you never heerd such a fihoutin and clappin of hands, and cheerin, in your life — they haw-lmwcd like thundor- Says I, Jehiel Quirk, that w^s a superb joke of yourn, how you made the folks lari' d 'n't you ? You are eon amost the wittiest critter I evei f d. I guc3s you'll mind your parts o' sj)cech, and stud> A BOr>Y WITHOUT A HEAD. I5A ,fte accidence agin afore you let your clapper run arter (hul fashion, won't yon. I thought, said I, that among you repuhlicans, there were no gradations of rank or otlice, and that all were equal, the Hogreave and the Governor, the Judge and the Crier, the master and his servant ; and although from the nature of things, more power might be entrusted to one than the other, yet that the rank of all was precisely the same. Well, said he, it is so in theory, but not always in practice ; and when we do prac/tse it, it seems to go a little agin the grain, as if it warn't quite right neither. When I was last to Bal- timore there was a Court there, and Chief Justice Marshall was detailed there for duty. Well, with u.s in New Eng- land, the Sheriff attends the Judge to Court, and says I to the Sheriff, why don't you escort that are venerable old Judge to the State House, he's a credit to our nation that man, he's actilly the first pothook on the crane, the whole weight is on him, if it warn't for him the fat would be in the fire in no time ; I wonder you don't show him that re- spect — it wouldn't hurt you one morsel, I guess. Says he quite miffy like, don't he know the way to Court as well as I do? If I thought he didn't, I'd send one of my niggers to show him the road. I wonder who was his lackey last year, that he wants me to be hisn this time. It don't con- vene to one of our free and enlightened citizens, to tag arter any man, that's a fact? Its too English and toe foreign for our glorious institutions. He's bound by law to oe there at 10 o'clock, and so be I, and we both know the way there I reckon. 1 told the story to our minister, Mr. Hopewell, (and ho has some odd notions about him that man, though he don'* always let out what he thinks ;) says he, Sam, that was m bad taste, (a great phrase of the old gentleman's that) in bad taste, Sam. That are Sheriff was a gonoy ; don't ju your cloth arter his pattern, or your garment won't become you, I tell you. We are too enlightened to worship our fellow citizens as the ancients did, but we ou,u;ht to pay groat respect to vartue and exalted talents in this life:, and, arter IJK'ir death, there should be statues of eminent men placed in our national temples, Cov the veneration of arter ages, and public ceremonies performed annually to their honor. Ariel 150 THE CLOCKMAKER. 'ii I .:„!!!,. ''^:.i! ':!i all, Sam, said he, (and he made a considerable of a long pause, as if he was dubersome whether he ought to speak out or not) arter all, Sam, said he, atwecn ourselves, (but you must not let on I said so, for the fulness of time han't yet come) half a yard of blue ribbon is a plaguy cheap way of rewardin merit, as the English do ; and, although wo lai f at 'em, (for folks always will larf at what they han't got, and never can get,) yet titles aint bad things as objects of ambition, are they 1 Then tappen me on the shoulder, and lookin up and smilin, as he always did when he was pleased with an idee. Sir Samuel Slick would not sound bad, I guess, would it Sam ? When 1 look at the English House of Lords, said he» and sec so much laming, piety, talent, honor, vartue, and rclinement collected together, I ax myself this here ques- tion, can a system which produces and sustains such a body of men as the world never saw before and never will see agin, be defective 1 Well, I answer myself, perhaps it is, for all human institutions are so, but I guess it's e'en about the best arter all. It wouldn't do here now, Sam, nor perhaps for a century to come, but it will come sooner or later with some variations. Now the Newtown pippin, when transplanted to England, don't produce such fruit as It does in Long Island, and English fruits don't presarve their flavour here neither; allowance must be made for difference of soil and climate — (Oh Lord ! thinks I, if he turns into his orchard, I'm done for ; I'll have to give him the dodge some how or another, through some hole in the fence, that's a fact, but he passed on that time.) So it is, said he, with constitutions ; ourn will gradually approxi- mate to theirn, and theirn to ourn. As they lose their strength of executive, they will varge to republicanism, and as we invigorate the form of government, (as we must do, or go to the old boy,) we shall tend towards a monarchy. If this comes on gradually, like the chanr-j in the human body, by the slow approach of old a%x , so much the bettor : but I fear we shall have fevers and con- vuLsion-fits, and cholics, and an cverlastin gripin of the intestines iirst ; you and I wont live to see it, Sam, but out posteriors will, you may depend. I don't go the whole figur with mmistcr, said the Clock A BODY WITHOUT A HEAD. 157 maker, but I do opinionate with him in part. In our oust- ness relations we bely our political principles — we say every man is equal in the Union, and should have an equal vote and voice in the Government ; but in our Banks, Railroad Companies, Factory Corporations, and so on, every man's vote is regiiated by his share and projwrtion of stock ; and if it warn't so, no man would take hold on these things at all. Natur ordained it so — a father of a family is head, and rules supreme in his household ; his eldest son and darter are like first leAenants under him, and then there is an overseer over the niggers; it would not do for all to be equal there. So it is in the univarse, it is ruled by one Superior Power ; if all the Angels had a voice in the Government, I guess Here I fell fast asleep; I had been nodding for some time, not in approbation of what he said, but in heaviness of slumber, for I had never before heard him so prosy since I first overtook him on the Colchester road. I hate politics as a subject of con- versation, it is too wide a field for chit chat, and too often ends in angry discussion. How long he contin- ued this train of speculation I do not know, but, judging by the difierent aspect of the country, I must have slept an hour. I was at length aroused by the report of his rifle, which he had discharged from the waggon. The last I recollect- ed of his conversation was, I think, about American angels having no voice in the Government, an assertion that struck my drowsy faculties as not strictly true ; as I had often heard that the American Indies talked fre(|uontly and warmly on the subject of politics, and knew that one of them had very recently the credit of breaking up Gen* eral Jackson's cabinet. — When I awoke, the first I honrd was, well, I declare, if that aint an amazin fine shot, too, considerin how the critter was a runnin the whole blessed ime; if I han't cut her head oft' with a ball, jist below the throat, that's a fact. There's no mistake in a good Kentucky rifle, I tell you. Whose head ? said I, in great alarm, whose head, Mr. Slick ? for heaven's sake what have you done? (for I had been dreaming of those angelic politi- cians, the American ladies.) Why that are hen-panridgc'* |!i:. 158 THE CLOCKMAKER. I R" I' head, to bo sure, said ho ; don't you see how special wonderful wise it loolcs, a fluttcrin about artcr its head. True, said I, rubbing my eyes, and opening tliem in time to see the last muscular spasms of the decapitated body ; true, Mr. Slick it is a happy illustration of our previous conversation—— a body without a head. CHAPTER XXX. A TALE OF BUNKER'S HILL. Mr. Slick, like all his country nen whom I have seen , felt that his own existence was involved in that of tht Constitution of the United States, and that it was his duty to uphold it upon all occasions. He affected to consider Its government and its institutions as perfect, and if any doubt was suggested as to the stability or character of either, would make the common reply of all Americans^ *I guess you don't understand us,' or else enter into a laboured defence. When left, however, to the free ex- pression of his own thoughts, he would often give utterance to those apprehensions which most men feel in the event of an experiment not yet fairly tried, and which has in many parts evidently disappointed the sanguine hopes of its friends. But, even on these occasions, when his vigi- lance seemed to slumber, he would generally cover them, b^* giving them as the remarks of others, or concealing them in a tale. It was this habit that gave his discourse rather the appearance of thinking aloud than a connected conversation. We are a great nation, Squire, he said, that's sartin ; but I'm afcar'd we didn't altogether start right. It's in politics as in racin, every thing depends upon a fair start. If you are off too quick, you have to pull up and turn back agin, and your beast gets out of wind and is baffled, and if you lose in the start you han't got a fair chance arterwards, and ■re plaguy apt to be jockied in the course. When wo set I Hllllii A TALE or bunker's HILL. 15U ip househc?epin, as it were for ourselvrs, we hated our step- mother Old England, so dreadful bad, we wouldn't follor any of her ways of nuinagin at all, but made new receipts for ourselves. Well, we missed it in many things most coDsumediy, some how or another. Did you ever see, said he, a congregation split right in two by a quarrel ? and one part go off and set up for themselves. I am sorry to say, said I, that I have seen some melancholy instances of the kind. Well, they shoot ahead, or drop astern, as the case may be, but they soon get on nnother tack, and leave tho old ship clean out of sight. When folks once take to emi- gratin in religion in this way, they never know where to bide. First they try one location, and then they try an- other ; some settle here and some improve there, but they don't hitch their horses together long. Sometimes they complain they have too little water, at other times that they have too much ; they are never satisfied, and, wherever these separatists go, they onsettlo others as bad as them- selves. / never look on a desarter as any great shakes. My poor father used to say, * Sam, mind what I tell you, if a man don't agree in all particulars with his church, and can't go the whole hog with 'em, he aint justified on that account, no how, to separate from them, for Sam, " Schism is a gin in the eye of God." The whole Christian world, he would say, is divided into two great families, the Catho- lic and Protestant. Well, the Catholic is a united family, a happy family, and a strong family, all governed by one head ; and Sam, as sure as eggs is eggs, that are family will grub out tother one, stalk, branch and root, it won't so much as leave the seed of it in the ground, to grow by chance as a nateral curiosity. Now the Protestant family is like a bundle of refuse shingles, when withered up to- gether, (which it never was and never will be to all etarnity) no great of a bundle arter all, you might take it up under ne arm, and walk off with it without winkin. But, when 11 lyin loose as it always is, jist look at it, and see what a sight it is, all blowin about by every wind of doctrine, some away up een a most out of sight, others rolin over and over in the dirt, some split to pieces, and others so warped by tho weather and cracked by the sun — no two of 'em will lie so ns to make a close jmt. They are all divided into sects l'-il 100 THE CLOCKMAKER. railin, qiiarrelin, scpamtin, nnd ngrccin in nothin, but hatin each other. It is (uvlul to think on. Tother family will someday or Dther gather thrm all up, put them into a bundlo and bind them up tight, and condemn 'cm as fit for nothin under the sun, but the lire. Now he who splits one of these here sects by schism, or he who preaches schism, commits a grievous sin ; and Sam, if you valy your own peace of mind, have nothin to do with such folks. It's pretty much the same in Politics. I aint quite cleat in my conscience, Sam, about our glorious revolution. If that are blood was shed justly in the rebellion, then it waik the Lord's doiu, but if unlawfully, how am I to answer foi my share in it. I was at Bunker's Hill (the most splendid battle its generally allowed that over was fought); what eflcct my shots had, I can't tell, and I am glad I can't, all except one, Sam, and that shot — Here the old gentleman became dreadful agitated, he shook like an ague fit, and ho walked up and down the room, and wrung his hands, and groaned bitterly. I have wrastled with the Lord, Sam, and have prayed to him to enlighten me on that pint, and to wash out the stain of that are blood from my hands. I never told you that are story, nor your mother neither, for she could not stand it, poor critter, she's kinder nar- vous. Well, Doctor Warren, (the first soldier of his age, though he never fought afore,) commanded us all to resarve our fire till the British came within pint blank shot, and we could cleverly see the whites of their eyes, and we did so^and we mowed them down like grass, and we repeat- ed our fire with awful eflTect. I was among the last that remained behind the breastwork, for most on 'em, arter the second shot, cut and run full split. The British were lose to us ; and an ofllicer, with his sword drawn, was eading on his men and encouragin them to the charge. 1 could see his features, he was a rael handsum man, I can see him now with his white breeches and black gaiters, nnd red coat, and three cornered cocked hat, as plain as if it was yesterday instead of the year '75. Well, I took a steady aim at him and fired. He didn't move for a space, and I thought I had missed him, when all of a sudden, he sprung right straight up an eend, his sword slipt through A TALB or bunker's HILL. IGl liis hands up to the pint, and then hu fell flat on his face atop of the blado, and it came straight out througn his lack. I le was lUirl y skivered. I never seed any thing so awful since 1 was raised, I actiily screamed out with norror — and I threw away my gun and joined them tha were retreatin over the neck to Charlestown. Sam, that ore British olHcer, if our rebellion was onjust or onluwful, was murdered, that's a fact; and the idee, now I am growin old, huunts mc day and night. Sometimes I begin with the Stamp Act, and I go over all our grievances, one by one, and say aint they a sufficient justification ? Well, it makes a lung list, and I g(!t kinder satisfied, and it appears as clear as any thing. But sometimes there come doubts in my mind jist like a guest that's not invited or not expected, and takes you at a short like, and I say, warn't the Stamp Act ropeahid, ond concessions made, and warn't offers sent to settle all fairly — and I get troubled and oneasy agin? And then 1 say to rviysclf, says I, oh yes, but them offers came too late. I do nothin now, when I am alone, but argue it over and over agin. £ actiily dream on that man in my sleep sometimes, and then I see him as plain as if he was aibrc me, and I go over it all agin till I como to that are shot, and then I leap right up in bed and scream like all vengeance, and jrour mother, poor old critter, says, Sam, says she, what on airth ails you to make you act so like old Scratch .n your sleep — I do believe there's somethin or another on your conscience. And I say, Polly dear, I guess we're a goin to have rain, for that plaguy cute rheumatis has seiz- ed my foot and it does antagonise me so I have no peace. [t always does so when it's like for a change. Dear heart she says, (the poor simple critter,) then I guess I had bet- ter rub it, hadn't I, Sam? and she crawls out of bed and gels her red flannel petluroat, and rubs away at my foot ever so long. Oh, Sam, if she could rub it out of my heart as easy as she thinks she rubs it out of my foot, I should be in peace, that's a fact. What's done. Sum, can't be help(Ml, there is no use in cryin over spilt milk, but still one can't help a thinkin on it But I don't love schisms, and I don't love rebellion. Our revolution has made us crow faster u 11 grow r 11 il 1^ S!':i; i63 THl CLOCKMAKEIU but, Sam, when we were younger and poorer, we were more pious and more happy. We have nothin fixed eithei m religion or politics. What connexion there ought to be atween Church and State, I am not availed, but some there ought to be as sure as the Lord made Moses. Religion, when Icfl to itself, as with us, grows too rank and luxuriant. Suckers and sprouts, and intersecting shoots, and superfluous wood make a nice shady tree to look at, but whereas the fruit, Sam ? that's the question — where*s the fruit ? No ; the pride of human wisdom, and the presumption it breeds will ruinate us. Jeflerson was an infidel, and avowed it, and gloried in it, and called It the enlightenment of the age. Cambridge College is Unitarian, cause it looks wise to doubt, and every drumstick of a boy ridicules the belief of his forefathers. If our country is to be darkened by infidelity, our Govern- ment defied by every State, and every State ruled by mobs —then, Sam, the blood we shed in our revolution will be atoned for in the blood and suflTering of our fellow-citizens The murders of that civil war will be expiated by a politi cal suicide of the State.' I am somewhat of father's opinion, said the Clockmaker, though I don't go the whole figur with him, but he needn't have made such an everlastin touss about fixin that are British Officer's flint for him, for he'd a died himself by this time, I do suppose, if he had a missed his shot at him. Praps we might have done a little better, and praps we mightn't, by stickin a little closer to the old constitution. But one thing I will say, I think, arter all, your Colony Government is about as happy and as good a one as I know on. A man's life and property are well prot(;cted here at little cost, aud he can go where he likes, provided he d.in'i trespass on his neighbour. I guess that's enough for anv on uo now, aint it ? !li QULLIIVO A BLUB-iraSB. im CIUPTER XXXI. GULLING A BLUE-NOSE. I ALLOT, said Mr. Slick, that the blue-noses aro tho most gullible folks on the face of the airth — rigular sod hornsi Uiat*s a fact. Politicks and such stuti'sot 'em a gapin, like children in a chimhiy corner listenin to tales of ghosts, 8alem witches, and Nova Scotia snow storms ; and whilo they stand slarin and yawpin, all eyes and mouth, they get their pockets picked of every cent that's in 'em. One can- didate chap says, ' Feller citizens, this country is goin to the dogs hand over hand ; look at your rivers, you have no bridges ; at your wild lands, you have no roads ; at your treasury, vou ainte got a cent in it; at your markets, things don t fetch nothin ; at your fish, the Yankees ketch 'em all. There's nothin behind you but sufTerin, around you but poverty, afore you but slavery and death. What's the cause of this unheerd of awful state of things, ay, what's the cause? Why Judges, and Banks, and Law- yers, and great folks, have swallerod all the money, ^rhey've got you down, and they'll keop you down to all etarnity, you and your posteriors arter you. Rise up, like men, arouse yourselves like freemen, and elect me to the Legislatur, ond I'll lead on the small but patriotic band, I'll put the big wigs thro' their facins, I'll make 'em shake in their shoes, I'll knock off your chains and make you free.* Well, the goneys fall tu and elect him, and he desarts right away, with bulls, rifle, powder horn, and all. He promised too much. Then comes a rael good man, and an everlastin fine preacher, a most a special spiritual mon, renounces the world, the flesh, and the devil, preaches and prays day and night, so kinc to the poor, and so humble, he has no more pride than a babe, and so short-handed, he's no but* ter *o his bread — all self denial, mortifyin the flesh. Well, as soon as he can work it, he marries the richest gall in al! his flock, and then hio biead is buttered on both sides. He 'promised too much. Then comes a doctor, and a prime article he is, too, u^\ 164 THE CrXXJKMAKER. iVo got, says ho, a screw auger emetic and hot crop, and if J cant cure all sorts o' things in natur, my name aint quack. Well he tr rny stomach and pocket both inside out, and leaves poor blue-nose — a dead man. He promised too mvch. Then comes a Lawyer, an honest lawyer too, a rael wonder under ihe sun, as straight as a shingle in all his dealins. He's so honest he can't bear to hear tell of other lawyers, he writes agin 'cm, raves agin 'cm, votes dgin 'em, they arc all rogues but him. He's jist tho man to take a case in hand, cause he will sec justice done. Well, he wins his case, and fobs all for costs, cause he's sworn to see justice done to — himself. He promised too much. Then comes a Yankee clockinaker, (and here Mr. Slick looked up and smiled,) with his ' Soft Sawder,' and * Hu- man Natur,' and he sells clocks warranted to run from July to Etarnity, stoppages included, and I must say they do run as long as — as long as wooden clocks commonly do, that's a fact. But I'll show you presently how I put the leak into 'em, for here's a feller a little bit ahead on us, whose flint I've made up my mind to fix this while past. Here we were nearly thrown out of the waggon, by tho bi caking down of one of those small wooden bridges, which piove so annoying and so dangerous to travellers. Did yon hear that are snap, said he, well, as sure as fate, I'H break my clocks over them are etarnal log bridges, if Old Clay clips over them artcr that fashion. Them aw poles are plaguy treacherous, they are jist like old Marnf Pati(;nce Docsgood's teeth, that keeps the great United Indepcni ;nt Democratic Hotel at Squaw Neck Creek in Massaclmsetts, one half gone, and tother half rotten eends. I thought you had disposed of your last Clock, said I, af Colchester, to Deacon Flint. So I did, he replied, the las nc I had to sell to Aim, but I got a few lefl for other folk yet. Now there is a man on this road, one Zeb Allen, 9 rael genums skinflint, a proper dose fisted customer a? you'll almost see any where, and one that's not altogethei the straight thing in his donlin neither. He dont want na one to live but himself, and he's mighty handsum to mo OULLIira A BLUE-NOSE. 105 ■ayin my Clocks are all a cheat, and that we ruinate the country, a drainin every drop of money out of* it, a caliin mo a Yankee broom and what not. But it tante all ji.st Gospel that ho says. Now I'll put a Clock on him afore he knows it, I'll go right into him as slick as a whistle, and play him to the eend of my line like a trout. I'll have a hook in his gills, while he's a thinkin he's only smellin at the bait. There he is now, I'll be darned if he aint, standin albre his shop door, lookin as strong as high proof Jamaiky, I guess I'll whip out the bung while he's a lookin urtei the spicket, and praps he'll be none o' the wiser till he finds it out, neither. Well, Squire, how do you do, said he, how's all at home ? Reasonable woll, I give you thanks, won't you alight } Can't to-day, said Mr. Slick, I'm in a considerable of a hurry to katch the packet, have you any commands for Sow West ? I'm goin to the Island, and across the bay to Windsor. Any word that way 1 No, says Mr. Allen, none that I can think on, unless it be to inquire how butter's goin , they tell me cheese is down, and pior?//ce of all kind par- ticular dull this fall. Well, I'm glad I can tell that question, said Slick, for I don't calculate to return to these parts, butter is risin a cent or two; 1 put mine off mind at ten- pence. Don't return I possible ! why, how you talk ? Have you done with the clock trade 1 I guess I have, it tante worth follerin now. Most time, said the other, larfin, for by all accounts the clocks warn't worth bavin, and most infarnal dear (too, folks begin to get their eyes open. It warn't needed in your case, said Mr. Slick, with that pecu- liarly composed manner tliat indicates suppressed feeling, for you were always wide awake, if all the folks had cut their eye teeth as airly as you did, their'd be plaguy few clocks sold in these parls, 1 reckon; but you are right, Squire, you may say that, they artually were not wi^'t'a havin, and that's the truth. The; Hict is, said h(», throNvin down his reiiis, and affi'Ctiiig a most confidential tone, I 1' i almost asluuncd of them njvs(>lf, I tell you. The long and short of the matter is jist this, they don't make no good ones now-a-days, no more, for they calculate 'em for shq> pin and not for home use. I wfis all struck up of a heap when I seed the last lot I got from tlic States ; I was pro- 166 THB CLOCKMAKER. perly bit by them, you may depend ; they didn't pay cost, for 1 couldnt recommend them with a clear conscience, and I must say I do liice a fair deal, for Vm straight up and down, and love to go right aliead, that's a fact. Did you ever see them I fetched when I first came, them I sold over the Bay ? No, said Mr. Allen, I can't say I did. Well, continued he, they were a prime article, I tell you, no mis« take there, fit for any market, it's generally allowed there aint the beat of them to be found any where. If you want a clock, and can lay your hands on one of them, I advise you not to let go the chance; you'll know 'em by the * Lowell' mark, for they were all made at Judge Beler's fac tory. Squire Shepody, down to five Islands, axed me to get him one, and a special job I had of it, near about more sarch arter it than it was worth, but I did get him one, and a particular handsum one it is, copald and gilt superior. 1 guess it's worth ary half-dozen in these parts, let tothers be where they may. If I could a got supplied with the like o' them, I could a made a grand spec out of them, for they took at once, and went off quick. Have you got it with you, said Mr. Allen, I should like to see it. Yes, I have it here, all done up in tow,, as snug as a bird's egg, to keep it from jarrin, for it hurts 'em consumedly to jolt 'em over them are etarnal wooden bridges. But it's no use to take it out, it aint for sale, it's l)espoke, and I wouldn't take the same trouble to get another for twenty dollars. The only one that I know of that there's any chance of gettin, is one that Increase Crane has up to Wilmot, they say he's a sellin off. After a good deal of persuasion, Mr. Slick unpacked the clock, but protested against his asking for it, for it was not for sale. It was then exhibited, every part explained and praised, as new in invention and perfect in workmanship. Now Mr. Allen had a very exalted opinion of Squire She- pody's taste, judgment, and saving knowledge ; and, as it was the last and only chance of gettin a clock of such su- |>erior quality, he offered to take it at the price the Squire was to have it, at seven pounds ten shillings. But Mr Slick vowed he couldn't part with it at no rate, he didn't Know where he could get the like agin, (for he warn't quiUi OULLINO A BLUE-IfOSF.. 167 •ure about Increase Crane*s) and the Squi- vouM be con* (bunded disappointed, he couldn't think oi it. In propor- tion to the dithculties, rose the ardor of Mr. Alien, his oflera advanced to £8, to £8 lOs., to £9. 1 vow, said Mr. Shck I wish I hadn't let on that I had it at all. I don't like to refuse you, but where am I to get the like ? aAer much dis* cussion of a similar nature, he consented to part with the clock, though with great apparent reluctance, and pocketed the money with a protest that, cost what it would, he should have to procure another, for he couldn't think of putting the Squire's pipe out arter that fashion, for he was a very clever man, and as fair as a bootjack. Now, said Mr. Slick, as we proceeded on our way, thai are fellow is properly sarved, he got the most inferior arti- cle I had, and I jist doubU^d the price on him. It's a pity he should be a tellin of lies of the Yankees all the time, this will help him now to a little grain of truth. Then mimicking his voice and manner, he repeated Allen's words with a strong nasal twang, * Most time for you to give over the clock trade, I guefj, for by all accounts they aint worth havin, and most infarnal dear too, folks begin to get their eyes open.' Better for you, if you'd a had yourn open, I reckon ; a joke is a joke, but I concait you'll find that no joke. The next time you tell stories about Yankee ped- lars. put the wooden clock in with the wooden punkin seeds, and Hickory hams, will you 1 The blue-noses. Squire, are all likvi Zeb Allen, they think they know every thing, bui they get gulled from year's eend to year's eend. They expect too much from others, and do too little for them, selves. They actilly expect the sun to shine, and the rain to fall, through their little House of Assembly. What have you done for us ? they keep axin their members. Who did you spunk up to last Session ? jist as if all legislation con- sisted in attackin some half dozen puss proud folks at Hi»li- fax, who are jist as b'g noodles as they be themselves. You hear nothin but politics, politics, politics, one everlastia 8 "nd of give, give, give. If I was Governor I'd give 'em the butt end of my mind on the subject, I'd crack thcii pates till I let some light in 'em, if it was me, I know. I'd ■ay to the members, don't come down here to Halifax with ''r:'Pl' '' 1 i 1 ■ fe™p- l^ai \m ■T' n HP' Hf |np' tMt HP' '' 168 THE CLOCKMAKBR. vour lockriims about politics, making a groat tou:.3 about nothin, but open the country, foster agricultui, em.ourage trade, incorporate companies, make bridges, facilitate con- veyance, and alx)ve all things make a railroad from Wind- sor to Halifax ; and mind what I tell you now, writi it down for fear you should forgi^t it, for it's a fact ; and if you don't believe mc, I'll lick you till you do, ibr there aint 9. word of a lie in it, by Gum : One svch work as the Windsor Bridge is worth all your laws^ votesj sjteechct^ and resolutions^ for the last ten years^ if tied up and pnt into a meal bag together. If it tante^ I hope I may be ihot. CHAPTER XXXII. TOO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE. We had a pleasant sail of three hours from Parrsborough to Windsor. The arrivals and departures by water are regulated at this place by the tide, and it was sunset before we reached Mrs. Wilcox's comfortable inn. Here, as at other places, Mr. Slick seemed to be perfectly at home ; ond he pointed to a wooden clock, as a proof of his successful and extended trade, and of the universal influence of * soft sawder,' and a knowledge of ' human natur.' Taking out a penknife, he cut ofl' a splinter from a stick of firewoo\r IRONS m TUG FIRE. lOi) There's a p'^guy s'glit of truth in them are old provfrhs. They are distilled farts steamed down to an essence. They are like portaUle soup, an amazin deal of matter in a snmll compass. Tlu-y are what I valy most, experience. Father used to say, I'd as lives have an jld homcspiui, self-taught doctor as are a Professor in the College at I'hiladelphia or New York to attend me ; for what they do know, they know hy experience, and not by hooks; and experience; is everything, it's hcarin, and seein, and try in, and arter that a leller must l)e a horn fool if he don'i know. That's the b(>auty of old proverhs ; tiiey are as true as a plum line, and as short and sweet as sugar candy. Now when you come to sec all al>out tlu. country, you'll fmd the truth of that are on(. — * a man that has too many irons in the JirCj is plaguy apt to get some on ''em biirnt.^ Do you recollect that are tree I .show'd you to Parrsboro', it was all covered with black knobs^ like a wart rubbed with caustic. Well, the plum trees had the same disease a few years ago, and they all died, and the cherry trees 1 concait will go for it too. The farms here arc all covered with the same * black knoba^^ and they do look r\e old Scratch. If you see a |)lace all gone to wra<'k and rum, it's mortgaged you may dej)end. The * black knob'* is on it. My plan, you know, is to ax leave to put a clock in a house, and let \ it be till 1 return. 1 never say a word about sellin it, for I know when 1 con»e ba<*k, they won't let it go arter they are once used to it. Well, when I first came, 1 knowed no one, and I was forced to inquire whether a man was good for it, afore I lell it with him ; so I made a pint of axin all iibout every man's place, that lived on the road. Who lives up therein the big house? says I — it's a ni- cj location that, pretty considerable improvements, them. Why, Sir, that's A. H.'s ; he was well to do in the world once, carried a stiff upper lip and keered for no one ; he was one of our grand aristocrats, wore a hmg-tailed coat, and a ruflled shirt, bu* lie must take to ship buildinv and has gone to the dogs. Oh said 1, too many irons in the lire. Well, the next farm where X\\i\ pigs are in the pota'oc field, whose is that ? Ol? Sir, that's (J. D.'s. ; he was a cunsiderable forehand(,'d farmer as any in our nlucc ^ but he sot up for an Assembly .man ....Hl.lli mifm Niki. 170 THE CLOCKMAKBR. and opened a Store, and things went agin him somehow, h« had no luck arterwards. I hear his place is mortgaged and theyVe got him cited in chancery. * The black knob' is or him, said I. The black what. Sir, says blue-nose Nothin, says I. But the next, who improves that house 1 Why that's E. F's. ; he was the greatest farmer in these parts, another of the aristocracy, had a most noble stuck o' cattle, and the matter of some hundreds out in jint notes 1 well he took the contract for beef witli the troops ; and he fell astarn, so I guess it's a gone goose with him. He's heavy mortgaged. * Too many irons' agin, said I. Who lives to the led there? that man has a most special fino intervale, and a grand orchard too, he must be a good mark that. Well he was once. Sir, a few years ago ; but he built a fuUin mill, and a cardiu mill, and put up a lumber establishment, and speculated in the West Indy line, but the dam was carried away by the freshets, the lumber fell, and faith he fell too ; he's shot up, he han't been st^'d these two years, his farm is a common, and fairly run oat. Oh, said I, I understand now, my man, these folks had too manif irons in the fire, you see, and some on 'em have got burnt I never heerd tell of it, says blue-nose ; they might, bu» not to my knowledge ; and he scratched his head and looked as if he would ask the meanin of it, but didn't like ts few would accept it as a bona fide draft, without some sponsible man to indorse it, that warnt given to flam- min. 1'ljey'd say there was a land speculation to the bottom of it, or a water privilege to put into the market, or n plaister rock to get off, or some such scheme. 'I'hey would I snore. But I hope I may never see daylight agin, if here's sich a country in all our great nation, as the ri-cin- ty of Windsor. Now its jist as like as not, some goney of a blue-nose hat seeM us from his fields, sailin all up full split, with fair wind on the packet, went right off home and said to his wife, ' Now do for gracious sake, mother, jist look here, and see how slick them folks go along ; and that Captain has nothin to do all day, but sit straddle legs across his tiller, and order about his sailors, or talk like a gentleman to his passengers : he's got most as easy a time of it as Ami Cuttle has, since he took up the fur trade, a snarin rabbits. I guess I'll buy a vessel, and leave the lads to do the plowin and little chores, they've growed up now to be considerable lumps of boys. Well away he'll go, hot foot, (for I know the critters better nor they know themselves) and he'll go and buy some old wrack of a vessel, to carry plaister, and mortgage his farm to pay for her. The vessel will jam him up tight for repairs and new riggin, and the Sheriff will soon pay him a visit ; (and he's a most particular trou- blesome visiter that ; if he once only gets a slight how-d'ye- do acquaintance, he becomes so amazin intimate arterwards, a comin in without knockin, and a runnin in and out at all hours, and makin so plaguy free and easy, its about as much as a bargain if you can get clear of him arterwards.) Benipt by the tide, and benipt by the Sheriff, the vessel makes short work with him. Well, the upshot is, the farm gets neglected while Captain Cuddy is to seti a drogin of plaister. The thistles run over his grain fields, his cat- tle run over his hay land, the interest runs over its time, the mortgage runs over all, and at last he jist runs over to the lines to Eastport, himself. And when he finds him:}elf ow. So we walked along towards the beach. Now, says I, look at that are man, old Lunar, and his son, a sawin plank by moonlii'hf, lor that are vessel on the stocks there; comn agin to morrow niornin afore you can cleverly discarn objects the matter of a yard or so aforo '^■•: .Ml be in a hurry ; you should sec the ricinity of this l(»cu- lion ; there aint the Ix'at of it to be found anywhere. While the servants were harnessing old Clay, we went to see a new bridge, which had recently been erected over the Avon River. That, said he, is a splendid thing. A New Yorker built it, and the folks in St. John paid for it. You mean of Halifax, said I ; St. John is in the other province. I mean what I say, he replied, and it is a credit to New Brunswick. No, Sir, the Halifax folks neither know nor keer much about the country — they wouldn't take hold on it, and if they had a waited for them, it would have been one while afore they got a bridge, I tell you. They've no spirit, and plaguy little sympathy with the country, and I'll tell you the reason on it. There are a great many people there from other parts, and always have been, who come to make money and nothin else, who don't call it home, and don't feel to home, and who intend to up killoch and off, as soon as they have made their ned out of the blue-noses. They have got about as much regard for the country as a pedlar has, who trudges along with a pack on his back. He walks cause he intends to ride it last ; trusts^ cause he intends to sue at last ; S'/nileSy cause he intends to cheat at last ; saves ally cause he intends to move all at last. Its actilly over run with transient paupers, and transient speculators, and these last grumble and growl like a bear with a sore head, the whole blessed time, at every thing; and can hardly keep a civil tongue in their head, while they're fobbin your money hand over hand. These critters feel no interest in any thing but cent per cent ; they deaden public spirit • they han't got none themselves, and they larf at it in others , and when you add their numbers to the timid ones, the ^ .«^ii^< IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) !? A4v V ^ 1.0 1.1 ■so ^^" !■■ m lU §2.2 I£° 12.0 112 11.25 III 1.4 II 9 m h w ^W.;^ ^ /'.. / J^Dtographic Sciences Corporation •^ \ ^;\ 23 WIST MAIK ST«EIT WiBSTEI.N.Y 14SM (716)S72-4S03 176 THE CLOOKMAKER. Stingy ones, the ignorant ones, and the poor ones, that are to be found in every place, why the few smart spirited ones that's left, are too few to do any thing, and so nothin is done. It appears to me if I was a blue-nose I'd but thank fortin I aint, so I says nothin — but there is some thin that aint altogether jist right in this country, that's » fact. But what a country this Bay country is, isn't it ? Look at that medder, beant it lovely ? The Prayer Eyes of the lllanoy are the top of the ladder with us, but these dykea take the shine off them by a long chalk, that's sartin. The land in our far west, it is generally allowed can't be no better ; what you plant is sure to grow and yield well and food is so cheap, you can live there for half nothin. But it don't agree with us New England folks ; we don't enjoy good health there ; and what in the world is the use of food, if you have such an etarnal dyspepsy you can't digest it. A man can hardly live there till next grass, afore he is in the yaller leaf. Just like one of our bran new vessels built down in Maine, of the best hackmatack, or what's better still, of our real American live oak, (and that's allowed to be about the best in the world) send her off to the West Indies, and let her lie there awhile, and the worms will riddle her bottom all full of holes like a tin cul- lender, or a board with a grist of duck shot thro' it, you wouldn't believo what a bore they be. Well, that's jist the case with the western climate. The heat takes the solder out of the knees, and elbows, weakens the joints, and makes the frame ricketty. Besides, we like the smell of the Salt Water, it seems kinder nateral to us New Englanders. We can make more a plowin of the seas, than plowin of a prayer eye. It would take a bottom near about as long as Connecticut river, to raise wheat enough to buy the cargo of a Nan- tucket whaler, or a Salem tea ship. And then to leav one's folks, and native place, where qne was raised, halter broke, and trained to go in gear, and exchange all the comforts of the Old States, for them are new onos, don seem to go down well at all. Why the very sight of the Yankee galls is good for sore eyes, the dear little critters, WINDSOR AND THE FAR WEST. 177 Ihey do look so scrumptious, I tell you, with their cheehs bloomin like a red rose budded on a white one, and their eyes like Mrs. Adams's diamonds (t4iat folks say shine as well in the dark as in the light,) neck like a swan, lipg chock full of kisses — lick ! it fairly makes one's mouth water to think on 'em. But it's no use talkin, they are just made critters, that's a fact, full of health and life, and beauty, — now, to change them are splendid white water Hlies of Connecticut and Rhode Island, for the yaller crocusses of Illanoy, is what we dont like. It goes most confoundedly agin the grain, I tell you. Poor critters, when they get away back there, they grow as thin as a sawed lath, their little peepers are as dull as a boiled cod- fish, their skin looks like yaller fever, and they seem all mouth like a crocodile. And that's not the worst of it neither, for when a woman begins to grow sailer it's all over with her; she's up a tree then you may depend, there's no mistake. You can no more bring back her bloom, than you can the color to a leaf the frost has touched in the fall. It's gone goose with her, that's a fact. And that's not all, for the temper is plaguy apt to change with the cheek too. When the freshness of youth is on the move, the sweetness of temper is amazin apt to start along with it. A bilious cheek and a sour temper are like the Siamese t^vins, there's a nateral cord of union atween them. The one is a sign board, with the namo of the firm written on it in big letters. He that dont Know this, cant read, I guess. It's no use to cry over spilt milk, we all know, but it's easier said than done that. Women kind, and especially single folks, will take on dreadful at the fadin of their roses, and their frettin only seems to make the thorns look sharj)er. Our minister used to say to sister Sail, (and when she was young she was a rael witch, a most an everlastin swoct girl,) Sally, he used to say, now's the time to lam, when you are young ; store your mind well, dear, and the fragrance will remain long arter the rose has shed its leaves. The onar of roses is stronger than the rose, and a plaguy sight more valuable. Sail wrote it down, she said it warnt a bad idee that ; but father larfed, ho said he guessed 12 178 THE CLOCKMAKBR. minister's courtin days warnt over, when he made such pretty speeches as that are to the galls. Now, who would go to expose his wife or his darters, or himself, to the dangers of such a climate, for the sake of 30 busheU of wheat to the acre, instead of 15. There seems a kinder somethin in us that rises in our throat when we think on it, and wont let us. We dont like it. Give me the shore, and let them that like the Far West, go there, I say. This place is as fertile as lllanoy or Ohio, as healthy as any part of the globe, and right along side of the salt wa- ter ; but the folks want three things — Industry^ Enterprize, Economy ; these blue-noses don't know how to valy this location— only look at it, and see what a place for bisness it is — the centre of the Province — the nateral capital of thQ Basin of Minas, and part of the Bay of Fundy — the grea* thoroughfare to St. John, Canada, and the United States — the exports of lime, gypsum, freestone and grindstone — th* dykes — but it's no use talkin ; I wish we had it, that's all Our folks are like a rock maple tree — stick 'em in any where, butt eend up and top down, and they will take root and grow ; but put 'cm in a rael good soil like this, and give 'em a fair chance, and they will go a head and thrive right off, most amazin fast, that's a fact. Yes, if we had it we would make another guess place of it from what it is In one year we would have a rail-road to Halifax^ which ^ unlike the stone that killed two birds, would he the makin of both places. I often tell the folks this, but all they can say, is, oh we are tco poor and too young. Says I, You put me in mind of a great long legged, long tail colt father had. He never changed bis name of colt as long as he lived, and he was as old as the hills ; and though he had he best of feed, was as thin as a whippin post. He was colt all his days — always young — always poor ; and young and poor you'll be I guess to the eend of the chapter. On our return to the Inn, the weather, which had been tb»*eatening for sometime past, became very tempestuous. h rained for three successive days, and the roads were almost impassable. To continue my journey was wholly out of the question. I determined, therefore, to take a seat in the coach for Halifax, and defer until next year the were wholly take a ear the WINDSOR AND THE FAR WEST. 179 remaining part of my tour. Mr. Slick agreed to meet m% here in June, and to provide for me the same conveyance 1 had used from Amherst. I look forward with much plea- sure to our meeting again. His manner and idiom were to me perfectly new and very amusing ; while his good sound sense, searching observation, and queer humour, rendered his conversation at once valuable and interesting. There are many subjects on which I should like to draw him out , and I promise myself a fund of amusement in his remarks on the state of society and manners at Halifax, and the machinery of the local government, on both of which he appears to entertain many original and some very just opinions. As he took leave of me in the coach, he whispered, * In- side of your great big cloak you will find wrapped up a box, containin a thousand rael genuine first chop Havanahs — no mistake — the clear thing. When you smoke 'em, think sometimes of your old companion, * Sam Slick the Clockmakeb * ,*> ■r-. . > ■ . ,4 - v., ;. • ■/ "^i-'- , -- " - , **-^ * N _^* ■^ ^ ' •'■■■: ■"".■'■*^ » ' ',. ■/ •'■.*;' :! V '-.- -■:'■'. ■■'-.." J -■ - 1 * >■ : 4 SAM SLICK; THE 'I CLOCKMAKER. PART SECOND. --.'■• ' - ■ . , •■ ' ^ - ■ - ■ . s ■ ' • i. ■V ■ . , TO COLONEL C. R. FOX. Dlar hlHy In consequence of the favourable opinion ex- pressed by you of the First Series of The Clock- maker, an English Publisher was induced to reprint it in London ; and I am indebted to that circumstance for an unexpected introduction, not only to the British Publisher, but to that of the United States. The very flattering reception it met with in both cou*^ tries has given rise to the present volume, whicN, as it owes its origin to you, offers a suitable opportunity of expressing the thanks ef the Author for this and other sub sequent acts of kindness. As a political work I cannot hope that you will approve of all the sentiments contained in it, for politics are peculiar ; and besides the broad (3) ^,fc>i ff DEDICATION. lines that divide parties, there are smaller shades of diflTerenco that distinguish even those who usually act together ; but humour is the common property of all, and a neutral ground on which men of opposite sides may cordially meet each other. As such, it affords me great pleasure to inscribe the work to you as a mark of the re- spect and esteem ot THE AUTHOR. Nova Scotia, aist April, 1888. . - ^r ^ , 'j^ >• «/'* - ,*••■ .:-. , -, , -,• -?_ i-^'".' : ■;■''*■ .i-'j' . r---i : « ■ •":''■.>>.'■ y '.iK >' 7?^sf-;e- ti^AA : ■ ;«,;. ^ f-i tS'' '■':■ -i ;: ■!(i mdcs who imon irhicb each re to e re« R. ■f CONTENTS OP PART SECOND. Chapter 1. The Meeting Pago 7 2. The Voluntary System 10 3. Training a Carriboo 31 4. Nick Bradshaw 27 5. Travelling in America 38 6. Elective Comicils . . 46 7. Slavery 53 8. Talking Latin 62 9. The Snow Wreath 72 10. The Talisman 79 11. Italian Paintings 86 12. Shampooing the English 93 13. Putting a Foot in it 101 14. English Aristocracy and Yankee Mobocracy 109 15. Confessions of a Deposed Minister 118 16. Canadian Politics 126 17. A Cure for Smuggling 135 18. Taking off the Factory Ladies 142 19. The Schoolmaster Abroad 152 20. The Wrong Room 160 91. Finding a Mare's Nest 168 22. Keeping up the Steam 176 33. The Clockmaker's parting Advice ...t..... 185 I* Ci) THE CLOCKMAKER. CHAPTER I. THE MEETING. Whoever has condescended to read the First Series of the Clockmaker, or the Sayings and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick, of Slickville, will recollect that our tour of Nova Scotia ter- minated at Windsor last autumn, in consequence of bad roads and bad weather, and that it was mutually agreed upon be- tween us to resume it in the following spring. But, alas ! spring came not. They retain in this country the name of that delightful portion of the year, but it is " Vox et preterea nihil." The short space that intervenes between the dissolu- tion of winter and the birth of summer deserves not the ap- pellation. Vegetation is so rapid here, that the valleys aro often clothed with verdure before the snow has wholly disap- peared from the forest. There is a strong similarity between the native and his ch« mate ; the one is without youth, and the other without spring, and both exhibit the effects of losing that preparatory season. Cultivation is wanting. Neither the mind nor the soil is pro- perly prepared. There it no time. The farmer is compelled to hurry through all his field operations as he best can, so as lo commit his grain to the ground in time to insure a crop. Much is unavoidably omitted that ought to be done, and all is performed in a careless and slovenly manner. The same haste is observable in education, and is attended with similar effects ; a boy is hurried to school, from school to a profes- sion, and from thence is sent forth into the world before his mind has been duly disciplined or properly cultivated. When I found Mr. Slick at Windsor, I expressed my regret to him that we could not have met earlier in the season ; but really, said I, they appear to have no spring in this country Well, I donU know, said he ; I never seeM it in that light afore ; I was athinkin' we might stump the whole univarsai (7) TH£ CLOCKMAKER. III world for climate. It's gincrally allowed, our climate in America can't be no better. The spring may be a little short or so, but then it is added to t'other cend, and makes amost an everlastin' fine autumn. Where will you ditto our fall ? It whips English weather by a long chalk, none of your hangin', shootin', drownin', throat-cuttin' weuther, but a clear sky and a good breeze, rael chcerfulsome. That, suid I, is evading the question ; I was speaking of the shortness of spring, and not of the comparative merit of your autumn, which I am ready to admit is a very charming por- tion of the year in America. But there is one favour I must beg of you during this tour, and that is, avoid the practice you indulged in so much last year, of exalting every thing American by depreciating every thing B itish. This habit is, I assure you, very objectionable, and has already had a very perceptible eflect on your national character. I believe I am as devoid of what is called national prejudices as most men, and can make all due allowances for th .a in others. I have no objection to this j uperiative praise of your country, its in- stitutions or its people, provided you do not require me to join in it, or express it in language disrespe'^tful of the English. Well, well, if that don't teat all, ^aid he ; you say, you have no prejudices, and yet you can't oear to hear tell of our great nation, and our free and enligh 3ned citizens. Captain Aul (Hall), as he called himself, for never seed an English- man yet that spoke good English, iid he hadn't one mite or morsel of prejudice, and yet in al' nis three volumes of tra- vels through the I7"-nited States (* e greatest nation it's gine- rally allowed atween the Poler , only found two things to praise, the kindness of our folks . him, and the State prisons. None are so blind, I guess, as them that won't see ; but your folks can't bear it, that's a fact. Bear what ? said I. The superiority of the Americans, he replied ; it does seem to grig 'em, there's no denyin' it ; it does somehow or another seem to go agin their grain to admit it most consumedly ; nothin' a'most ryles them so much as that. But their sun has set ia darkness and sorrow, never again to peer above the horizon. They will be blotted out of the list of nations. Their glory has departed across the Atlantic to fix her everlastin' abode in the t7"-nited States. Yes, man to man, — baganut to baganut, — ship to ship, — by land or by sea, — fair fight, or rough and tumble, — we've whipped 'em, that's a fact, deny it who can : and we^ll whip 'em agin, to all etarnity. We average mortt THE MkBTIirO. V physical, moral, and intellectual force than any people on the iace of the airth ; we are a right-minded, strong-minded, sound-minded, and high-minded people, I hope I may be shot if we ain't. On fresh or on salt water, on the lakes or the ocean, down comes the red cross and up go the stars. From Bunker's Hill clean away up to New Orleens the land teems with the glory of our heroes. Yes, our young Republic is a Colossus, with one foot in the Atlantic and the other in the Pacific, its head above the everlastin' hills, graspin' in iti hand a tri A rifle, shooting squirrels, said I ; a very suit able employment for such a tall, overgrown, long-leggea youngster. Well, well, said he, resuming his ordinary quiet demeanour, and with that good humour that distinguished him, put a rifle, if you will, in his hands, I guess you'll find he's not ji bad shot neither. But I must see to Old Clay, and prepare for our journey, which is a considerable of a long one, 1 tell yow,— and taking up his hat, he proceeded to the stable. Is that fel- low mad or drunk, said a stranger who came from Halifax with me in the coach ; I never heard such a vapouring fool in my life ; — I had a strong inclination, if he had not taken him- self off, to show him out of the door. Did you ever hear such insufferable vanity ? I should have been excessively sorry, I said, if you had taken any notice of it. He is, I assure you, neither mad nor drunk, but a very shrewd, intelligent fellow. I met with him accidentally last year while travelling through the eastern part of the province ; and although 1 was at first somewhat annoyed at the unceremonious manner in which ha forced his acquaintance upon me, I soon found that his know- ledge of the province, its people and government, might be most useful to me. He has some humour, much anecdote, and great onginality ; — he is, in short, quite a character. I have employed him to convey rne from this place to Shelburne, and from thence along the Atlantic coast to Halifax. Although not exactly the person one would choose for a travelling com- panion, yet if my guide must also be my companion, I do not know that I could have made a happier selection. He enables me to study the Yankee character, of which in his particular class he is a fair sample; and to become acquainted with their peculiar habits, manners, and mode of thinking. He has just now given you a specimen of their national vanity ; which, after all, is, I believe, not much greater than that of the French, though perhaps more loudly and rather d'flerentlj fit 10 THE CLOCKMAKER. expressed. He is well informed and quite at home on al matters connected with the machinery of the American gov- ernment, a subject of much interest to me. The explanations I receive from him enable me to compare it with the British and Colonial constitutions, and throw much light on the specu- lative projects of our reformers. I have sketched him in every attitude and in every light, and I carefully note down all our conversations, so that I flatter myself, when .his tour is completed, I shall know as much of America and Ameri- cans as some who have even written a book on the subject. CHAPTER II. THE VOLUNTARY SYSTEM. The day after our arrival at Windsor, being Sunday, we were compelled to remain there until the following Tuesday, so as to have one day at our command to visit the College, Retreat Farm, and the other objects of interest in the neigh- bourhood. One of the inhabitants having kindly offered me a seat in his pew, I accompanied him to the church, which, for the convenience of the College, was built nearly a mile from the village. From him I learned, that independently of the direct influence of the Church of England upon its own mem- bers, who form a very numerous and respectable portion of the inhabitants of Nova Scotia, its indirect operation has been lx>th extensive and important in this colony. The friends of the establishment, having at an early period founded a college, and patronised education, the professions have been filled with scholars and gentlemen, and the natural and very proper emulation of other sects being thus awakened to the importance of the subject, they have been stimulated to maintain and endow academies of their own. The general diffusion through the country of a well-edu- cated body of clergymen, like those of the establishment, has had a strong tendency to raise the standard of qualification among those who difler from them, while th^ habits, manners, and regular conduct of so respectable a body of men naturally and unconsciously modulate and influence those of their neigh- bours, who may not perhaps attend their ministrations. It is, thei*efbre, among ot!ier causes doubtless, owing in a great measure to the exertions and salutary example of the Chuicb i^'\ THE VOLUNTARY STSTCH. 1 in the Colonies that a higher tone of moral feeling exists i% the British Provinces than in the neighbouring states, a claim which I find very generally put forth in this country, and though not exactly admitted, yet certainly not denied even by Mr. Slick himself. The suggestions of this gentleman induced me to make some inquiries of the Clockmaker, connected with the subject, of an establishment ; I therefore asked him what his opinion was of the Voluntary System. Well, I don't know, said he ; what is your'n ? I am a member, I replied, of the Church of England ; you may, therefore, easily sup- pose what my opinion is. And I am a citizen, said he, laugh* ing, of Slickville, Onion count , state of Connecticut, United States of America : you may therefore guess what my opinion is too : I reckon we are even now, ar'n't we ? To tell you the truth, said he, I never thought much about it. I've been a considerable of a traveller in my day ; arovin' about here and there and every whare ; atradin' wherever I seed a good chance of making a speck ; paid my shot into the plate, whenever it was handed round in meetin', and axed no ques- tions. It was about as much as I could cleverly do, to look arter my own consarns, and I led the ministers to look arter theirn ; but take 'em in a gineral way, they are pretty well to do in the world with us, especially as they have the women on their side. Whoever has the women, is sure of the men, you may depend, squire ; openly or secretly, directly or indirectly, they do contrive, somehow or another, to have their own way in the ecnd, and tho' the men have the reins, the women tell 'em which way to drive. Now, if ever you go for to canvass for votes, always canvass the wives, and you are sure of the hus- bands. I recollect when I was last up to Aibama, to one of the new cities lately built there, I was awalkin' one mornin' airly out o' town to get a leetle fresh air, for the weather was so plaguy sultry I could hardly breathe a'most, and I seed a most splen did location there near the road ; a beautiful white two-storv house, with a grand virandah runnin' all round it, painted green, and green vernitians to the winders, and a white pali sade fence in front, lined with a row of Lombardy poplars, and two rows of 'em leadin' up to the front door, like two files of sodgers with fixt baganuts ; each side of the avenue was a grass plot, and a beautiful image of Adam stood in the centre of one on 'em — and of Eve, with a fig-leaf apron on, in toother, made of wood by a native artist, and painted so nate* ral no soul could tell 'em from stone. 12 THE CLOCKMAKfiR. The avenue was all planked beautiful, and It was lined with flowers in pots and jars, and looked a touch above common, 1 tell you. While I was astoppin' to look at it, who should drive by but the milkman with his cart. Says I, stranger, says I, I suppose you don't know who lives here, do you ? I guess you are a stranger, said he, ain't you 1 Well, says I, I don't exactly know as I ain't, but who lives here? The Rev. Ahab Meldrum, said he, I reckon. Ahab Meldrum, said I, to myself; I wonder if it can be the Ahab Meldrum I wag to school with to Slickville, to minister's, when we was boys. It can't be possible it's him, for he was fitter for a State's prisoner than a State's preacher, by a long chalk. He was a poor stick to make a preacher on, for minister couldn't beat nothin' into him a'most, he was so cussed stupid ; but I'll see any how : so I alks right through the gate, and raps away at the door, anu a tidy, well-rigged nigger help opens it, and shows me into a'most an elegant famished room. I was most darnted to sit down on the chairs, they were so splendid, for fear I should spile 'em. There was mirrors and varses, and lamps, and picturs, and crinkum crankums, and notions of all sorts and sizes in it. It looked like a bazar a'most, it was filled with such an everlastin' sight of curi- osities. The room was considerable dark too, for the blinds was shot, and I was skear'd to move for fear o' doin' mischief. Presently in comes Ahab slowly sailin' in, like a boat drop- pin' down stream in a calm, with a pair o' purple slippers on, and a figured silk dressin'-gound, and carrying a'most a beau- tiful-bound book in his hand. May I presume, says he, to inquire who I have the onexpected pleasure of seeing this mornin'. If you'll gist throw open one o' them are shutters, says I, I guess the light will save us the trouble of axin' names. I know who you be by your voice any how, tho' it's considerable softer than it was ten years ago. I'm Sam Slick, says I, — what's left o' me at least. Verily, said he, friend Samuel, I'm glad to see you ; and how did you leave that ex- cellent man and distinguished scholar, the Rev. Mr. Hopewell, and my good friend your father ? Is the old gentleman still alive? if so, he must anow be ripe full of years as he is full of honours. Your mother, I think I heer'd, was dead — gath- ered to her fathers — peace be with her ! — she had a good and a kind heart. 1 loved her as a child : but the Lord taketh whom he loveth. Ahab, says I, I have but a few minutes to TUB VOLUNTAUY SVST£M. %4 »lHy With you, and if you think to draw tlie wool ovtir my <»yes, It might perhaps take you a longer time than you are nininkmg on, or than I have to spare ; — there are some friends you've forgot to inquire after tho', — there's Polly Bacon and iier little bo/. Spare me, Samuel, spare me, my friend, says he ; open not that wound afresh, I beseech thee. Well, says I, none o' your nonsense then ; show me mto a room where I can spit, and feel to home, and put my feet upon the chairs without adam- agin' things, and I'll sit and smoke and chat with you a few minutes ; in fact I don't care if I stop and breakfast with you, for I feel considerable peckish this mornin'. Sam, says he, atakin' hold of my hand, you were always right up and down, and as straight as a shingle in your dealin's. I can trust yoUf I know, but mind, — and he put his fingers on his lips — mum is the word ; — bye gones are bye gones, — you wouldn't blow an old chum among his friends, would you 1 I scorn a nasty, dirty, mean action, says I, as I do a nigger. Come, foller mo. then, says he ; — and he led me into a back room, with an on- carpeted painted floor, famished plain, and some shelves iu Jt, with books and pipes and cigars, pig-tail and what not. Heio'a liberty-hall, said he ; chew, or smoke, or spit as you please ; —do as you like here ; we'll throw off all resarve now ; but mind that cursed nigger ; I»e has a foot like a cat, and an ear for every keyhole — don't talk too loud. Well, Sam, said he, I'm glad to see you too, my boy ; ft puts me in mind of old times. Many's the lark you and I have had together in Slickville, when old Hunks — (it made me start, that he meant Mr. Hopewell, and it made me feel kinder dandry at him, for I wouldn't let any one speak disre- spectful of him afore me for nothin' I know,) — when old Hunks thought we was abed. Them was happy days — the days o' light heels and light hearts. I often think on 'em, and think on 'em too with pleasure. Well, Ahab, says I, I don't gist altogether know as I do ; there are some things wg might gist as well a'most have left alone, I reckon ; but what's done is done, that's a fact. Ahem ! said he, so loud, I looked round and I seed two niggers bringin' in the breakfast, and a grand one it was, — tea and coffee and Indgian corn cakes, and hot bread and cold bread, fish, fowl, and flesh, roasted, boiled, and fried ; presarves, pickles, fruits ; in short, every thing a'most you could think on. You needn't wait, said Ahab, to 13 il ]4 THE CLOCKMAKER. liiii ihe blacks ; Pll ring for you, wlien I want you j we'll h?>p ourselves. Well, when I looked round and seed this critter alivin' thi» way, on the fat o' the land, up to his knees in clover like, u did pose me considerable to know how he worked it so cleverly for he was thought always, as a boy, to be rather more than half onder-baked, considerable soil-like. So, says I, Ahab, says I, 1 calculate you'r hke the cat we used to throw out of minister's garrat-windcr, when we was aboardin' there to school. How so, Sam ? said he. Why, says I, you always seem to come on your feet some how or other. You have gox a plaguy nice thing of it here ; that's a fact, and no mistake (the critter had three thousand dollars a-year); how on airth did you manage it ? I wish in my heart I had ataken up the trade o' preachin' too; when it does hit it does capitally, that's sartain. Why, says he, if you'll promise not to let on to any one about it, I'll tell you. I'll keep dark about it, you may depend, says I. I'm not a man that can't keep nothin' in my gizzard, but go right off and blart out all I hear. I know a thing worth two o' that, I guess. Well, says he, it's done by a new rule I made in grammar — the feminine gender is more worthy than the neuter, and the neuter more worthy than the masculine; I gist soft sawder the women. It 'taint every man will let you tickle him ; and if you do, he'll make faces at yob enough to frighten you into fits ; but tickle his wife, and it's elec trical — he'll laugh like any thing. They are the forred wheels start them, and the hind ones foller of course. Now it'> mostly women that tend meetin' here ; the men-folks havf their politics and trade to talk over, and what not, and ain'i time ; but the ladies go considerable rigular, and we have io depend on them, the dear critters. I gist lay myself out to get the blind side o' them, and I sugar and gild the pill so as to make it pretty to look at and easy to swaller. Last Lord'? day, for instance, I preached on the death of the widder's son Well, I drew such a pictur of the lone watch at the sick bed the patience, the kindness, the tenderness of women's hearts theii forgiving disposition — (the Lord forgive me for saying so, tho', for if there is a created critter that never forgives, it's a woman ; they seem to forgive a wound on their pride, and t skins over and looks all healed up like, but touch 'em on ►he sore spot ag'in, and see how cute their memory is) — Iheii tweet temper, soothers of grief, dispensers of joy, ministrin angels.^I make all the virtues of the feminine gender always. THE VOLUNTARY SYSTEM. 15 — ^Ihen I wound up with a quotation from Walter Scotl. They »U hke poetry, do the ladies, and Shakspeare, Scott, and Byron tkve amaziu' favourites ; they go down much better than them ♦ id-fashioned staves o' Watts. *'Oh woman, in our hour of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou." If I didn't touch it off to the nines it's a pity. I never neerd you preach so well, says one, since you was located here. I drew from natur', says I, a squezin' of her hand. Nor never so touchin', says another. You know my moddle, says I, lookin' spooney on her. I fairly shed tears, said a third ; how often have you drawn them from me ! says I. So true, says they, and so nateral, and truth and natur' is what we call eloquence. I feel quite proud, says I, and considerable elated, my admired sisters, — for who can judge so well as the ladies of the truth of the description of their own virtues? I must say, I felt somehow kinder inadequate to the task too, I said, — for the depth and strength and beauty of the female heart passes all understandin'. 1 \ When I left 'em I hcerd 'em say, ain't he a dear man, a feelin' man, a sweet critter, a'most a splendid preacher ; none o' your mere moral lecturers, but a rael right down genuine gospel preacher. Next day I received to the tune of one hundred dollars in cash, and fifty dollars produce, presents from one and another. The truth is, if a minister wants to be popular he should remain single, for then the gals all have a chance for him ; but the moment he marries he's up a tree , his flint is fixed then ; you may depend it's gone goose with them arter that ; that's a fact. No, Sam ; they are the pillars of the temple, the dear little critters. — And I'll give you a wrinkle for your horn, perhaps you ain't got yet, and it may be some use to you when you go down atradin' with the be nighted colonists in the outlandish British provinces. The road to the head lies throvfrh the heart. Pocket, you mean, instead of head, I guess, said I ; and if you don't travel that road full chissol it's a pity. — Well, says I, Ahab, when I go to Siickville I'll gist tell Mr. Hopewell what a most precious superfine, superior darn'd rascal you have turned out ; if you ain't No. 1, letter A, I want to know who is, that's all. You te THE CLOCKMAKER. do beat all, Sam, said he , its the system thafs victoust and not the preacher. If I didn't give 'em the soft sawder they would neither pny me nor hear me ; that's a fact. Are you so soft in the horn now, Sam, as to supi)Ose that the jjjals would take the trouble to come to hear me tell 'em of their corrupt natur' and fallen condition ; and first thnnK mo, and then pay me for it? Very entertainin' that to tell 'em the worms will fatten on their pretty little rosy cheeks, and that their sweet plump flesh is nothin' but grass, flourishin' to-day, and to be cut down withered and rotten to-morrow ; ain't it 1 It ain't in the natur' o' things, if I put them out o' concait o' themselves, I can put them in concait o' me ; or that they will come down handsome, and do the thing ginteel, its gist onpossible. It warn't me made the system, but the system made me. The voluntary don't work well. System or no system, said I, Ahab, you are Ahab still, and Ahab you'll be to the eend o' the chapter. You may decaive the women by soft sawder, and yourself by talkin' about sys- tems, but you won't walk into me so easy, I know. It ain't pretty v^t all. Now, said I, Ahab, I told you I wouldn't blow you, nor will I. I will neither speak o' things past nor things present. I know you wouldn't, Sam, said he ; you were always a good feller. But it's on one condition, says I, and that is that you allow Polly Bacon a hundred dollars a-year — she was a good gall and a decent gail when you first know'd her, and she's in great distress now to Slickville, I tell you. That's onfair, that's onkind, Sam, said he ; that's not the clean thing ; I can't aflfbrd il ; it's a breach o' confidence this, but you got me on the hip, and I can't help myself; say fifty dollars, and I will. Done, said I, and mind you're up to the notch, for I'm in earnest — there's no mistake. Depend upon me, said he, and, Sam, said he, a shaki,n' hands along with me at partin', — excuse me, my good feller, but I hope I may never have the pleasure to see your face ag'in. Ditto, says I ; but mind the fifty dollars a-year, or you will see mo to a sartainty — good b'ye. How different this cussed critter was from poor, dear, good, old Joshua Hopewell. I seed him not long arter. On my re- turn to Connecticut, gist as I was apassin' out o' Molasses into Onion County, who should I meet but minister amounted upon his horse, old Captain Jack. Jack was a racker, and in his day about as good a beast as ever hoisted tail, (you know what a racker is, don't you squire ? said tlie clockmaker ; they bring THE YOLUITTARY SYSTEM. m dp the two feet on one side first, together like, and then t'other two at once, the same way ; and they do get over the ground nt a most an amazin' size, that's sartin,) but poor old critter, he looked pretty streaU'd. You could count his rib.? as far as you could sec him, and his skin was drawn so tight over him, every blow of minister's cane on him sounded like a drum, ho was so holier. A candle poked into him 'ighted would have shown through him like a lantern. He carried his head down to his knees, and the hide seem'd so scant u pattern, he showea his teeth like a cross dog, and it started his eyes and made 'em look all outside like a weasel's. He actilly did look as if he couldn't help it. Minister had two bags roll'd up and tied on behind him, like a portmanter, and was ajogging on alookin' down on his horse, and the horse alookin' down on the road, as if he was seekin' a soft spot to tumble down upon. It was curious to see Captain Jack too, when he heerd old Clay acoming along full split behind him ; he cock'd up his head and tail, and prick'd up his ears, and look'd corner ways out of his eye, as much as to say, if you are for a lick of a quarter of a mile I don't feel much up to it, but I'll try you any way ; — so here's at you. He did try to do pretty, that's sartin, as if he was ashamed of looking so like Old Scratch, gist as a feller does up the shirt-collar and combs his hair with his fingers, afore he goes into the room among the galls. The poor skilliton of a beast was ginger to the backbone, you may depend — all clear grit ; what there was of him was whalebone ; that's a fact. But minister had no rally about him ; he was proper chap-fallen, and looked as dismal as if he had lost every friend that he had on airth. Why, minister, says I, what onder the sun is the matter of you ? You and Captain Jack look as if you had the cholera ; what makes you so dismal and your horse so thin? what's out o' joint now? Nothin' gone wrong, I hope, since I left? Nothin' has gone right with me, Sam, of late, said he ; I've been sorely tried with affliction, and my spirit is fairly humbled I've been more insulted this day, my son, than I ever was afore in all my uorn days. Minister, says I, I've gist one favour to ax o' you ; give me the sinner^s name, and afore daybreak to-morrow mornin' I'll bring him to a reck'nin' and see how the balance stands. I'll kick him from liere to Wash- ington, and from Washington back to Slickville, and then I'll cow-skin him, till this riding-whip is worn up to shoe-stringa^ and pitch him clean out o' the State. The mfamal Yillain I 2* "K r^t 18 THB CLOJKMAKER. tell nie whu he is, and if he war as big as all out>doori, I'd ^valk into him. I'll toach him the road to good manners, if he can save eyesight to see it, — hang rne if J don't. I'd like no better fun, I vow. So gist show me the man, that darst insult you, and if he does so ng'in, I'll give you leave to tell me of it. Thank you, Sam, says he; thank you, my boy, but it's beyond your help. It ain't a parsonal allVont of thai iiatur', but a spiritual affront. It ain't an affront ollered to me us Joshua Hopewell, so much as an alfront to the minister of Slickville. That is worse still, said I, because you can t resent it yourself. Leave him to me, and I'll fix his flint for him. It's a long story, Sam, and one to raise grief, but not anger ; — you musn't talk or think of nghtin', it's not becoming a Christian man, but here's my poor habitation, put up your horse and come in, and we'll talk this affair over by and by. Come in and see me, — for, sick as I am, both in body and mind, it will do me good. You was always a kind-hearted boy, Sam, and I'm glad to see the heart in the right place yet ; — come in, my son. Well, when we got into the house, and sot down, — says I, minister, what the dickens was them two great rolls o' canvass for, I seed snugg'd up and tied to your crupper ? You looked like a man who had taken his grist to mill, and was returnin' with the bags for another ; and what onder the sun had you in them ? I'll tell you, Sam, said he, — you know, said he, — when you was to home, we had a State Tax for the support o' the church, and every man had to pay his share to some church or another. I mind, said I, quite well. Well, said he, the inimy of souls has been to work among us, and instigated folks to think this was too compulsory for a free people, and smelt too strong of estab- lishments, and the legislatur' repealed the law ; so now, in- stead o' havin' a rigilar legal stipind, we have what they call the voluntary, — every man pays what he likes, when he likes, and to whom he likes, or if it don't convene him he pays nothin' ; — do you apprehend me ? As clear as a boot-jack, says I ; nothin' could be plainer, and I suppose that some o* your factory people that make canvass have given you a pre. sent of two rolls of it to make bags to hold your pay in 1 My breeches' pockets, says he, Sam, ashakin' o' his head, I estimate, are big enough for that. No, Sam ; some subscribe and some don't. Some say, we'll give, but we'll not bind ourselves ; — and some sayi we'll see about it. Well, I'm e*en TUB VOLUNTARY SYSTEM. 10 a^mdst star/cd, and Captain Jack docs look as poor as Job's turkey ; tliut's a fact. So I thought, as times was hard, IM take the bugs and get some oats tor him, from some of my Bubscribin' congregation ; — it would save th(>m the cash, and suit me gist as well as the blunt. Wherever I went, I miglit Ijave filled my bags with excusos, but I got no oats ; — but Ihut vvarn't the worst of it neither, they turncnl the tabh^s on me und took me to task. A new thing that for me, I guess, in my old age, to stand up to be catckised like a convarted Hea- then. VVhy don't you, says one, jine the Temperance Socie- ty, minister? Because, says I, there's no warrant for it in Scriptur', as I see. A Christian obligation to sobriety is, in my mind, afore any engagement on honour. Can't think, says he, of paym' to a minister that countenances drunken- ness. Says another, — minister, do you smoke 1 Yes, says I, I do sometimes ; and I don't care if I take a pipe along with you now ; — it seems sociable like. Well, says he, it's an abuse o' the critter, — a waste o' valuable time, and an en- courogement of slavery ; I don't pay to upholders of the slave system ; I go the whole figur' for abolition. One found me too Calvinistic, and another too Arminian ; one objected to my praying for the President, — for, he said, he was an everlastin' almighty rascal ; — another to my wearin' a gown, for it was too Popish. In short, I git nothin' but objections to a'most every thing I do or say, and 1 see considerable plain my income is gone ; I may work for nothin' and find thread now, if I choose. The only one that paid me, cheated me. Says he, minister, I've been alookin' for you for some time past, to pay my contribution, and I laid by twenty dollars for you. Thank you, said I, friend, but that is more than your share ; ten dollars, I think, is the amount of your subscrip- tion. Well, says he, I know that, but I like to do things hand- sum', and he who gives to a minister lends to the Lord ; — but, says he, I'm afeer'd it won't turn out so much now, for the bank has fail'd since. It's a pity you hadn't acall'd afore, but you must take the will for the deed. And he handed me a roll of the Bubble Bank paper, that ain't worth a cent. Are you sure, said I, that you put this aside for me when it was good ? O sartain, says he, I'll take my oath of it. There's no 'casion for that, says I, my friend, nor for me to take more than my due neither ; — here are ten of them back again, i hope you may not lose them altogether, as I fear I shall. But he cheated me, — I I- now he did. . 20 TUfi CLOCKMAKER. This is the blossin* of the voluntary, as far as Vm consarncd. Now I'll tell you how it's ngoin' to work upon them; not through my agency tho', for I'd die first ; — afore I'd do a wrong thini^ to guin the whole univarsal world. But what are you adoin' of, Sum, said he, acrackin' of that whip so, says he ; you'll e'en amost dcefen me. Atryin' of the spring of it, says I. The night afore I go down to Nova Scotia, I'll teach 'em Connecticut quick-step — I'll larn 'em to make somersets —I'll make 'em cut more capers than the caravon monkey ever could to save his soul alive, I know. I'll quilt 'em, as true as my name is Sam Slick ; and if they foller me down east, I'll lambaste them back a plaguy sight quicker than they came; the nasty, dirty, mean, sneaking villains. I'll play them a voluntary — I'll fa la sol them, to a jig tunc, and show 'em how to count baker's dozen. Crack, crack, crack, that's the music, minister; crack, crack, crack, I'll set all Slickville ayelpin' ! I'm in trouble enough, Sam, says he, without addin' thai are to it ; don't quite break my heart, for such carryin's on would near about Rill me. Let the poor deluded critters be, promise me now. Well, well, says I, if you say so it shall be so ; — but I must say, I long to be at 'em. But how is the voluntary agoin' for to operate on them ? Emitic, diuretic, or purgative, eh? I hope it will be all three, and turn them in- side out, the ungrateful scoundrils, and yet not be gist strong enough to turii them back ag'in. Sam you're an altered man, says he. It appears to me the whole world is changed. Don't talk so on-Christian : we must forget and forgive. They will be the greatest sufferers themselves, poor critters, havm' destroyed the independence of their minister, — their minister will pander to their vanity. He will be afeer'd to tell them unpalatable truths. Instead of tellin' 'em they are miserable sinners in need of repentance, he will tell 'em they are a great nation and a great people, will quote more history than the Bible, and give 'em orations not sarmons, encomiums and not censures. Presents, Sam, will bribe indulgences. The min- ister will he a dum dog / It sarves 'em right, says I ; I don't care what becomes of them. I hope they will be dum dogs, for dum dogs bite, and if they drive you mad, — as I believe from my soul they will, — I hope you'll bite every one on 'em. But, says I, minister, talkin' of presents, I've got one for you that's somethin' like the thing, I know ; and I took out my pocket-book and gave him a hundred dollars. I liop« I may be shot if I didn't. I felt so sorry for him. TRAirriN't] A CARRIBOO. that Who's this from? said ho, smilin*. From Alabama, said I ; but the jrivcr told mc not to mention liis name*. Weill, said he, I'd arathcr hu'd nsont mo a pound of good Virj^iny pig- tail, because I could Iiuvo tliankM him for that, and not felt too much obligation. Presents of money iryure both the giver and receiver^ and destroy the equilibrium of friendship^ and diminish independence and self-respect : but it's all right ; it will enable mo to send neighbour Dcarbourn's two sons to school. It will do good. 'Cute little fellers them, Sam, and will make considerable smart men, if they are properly seed to; but the old gentleman, their father, is, like myself, nearly used up, and plaguy poor. Thinks I, if that's your sort, old gentleman, I wish I had my hundred dollars in my pocket- book ag'in, as snug as a bug in a rug, and neighbour Dear- bourn's two sons might go and whistle for their schoolin*. Who the plague cares whether they have any laming or not? I'm sure I don't. It's the first of the voluntary system I've tried, and I'm sure it will be the last. yie*, yc«, squire^ the voluntary don't work welly — that^s a fact. Ahab has lost his soul to save his body, minister has lost his body to save his soul, and Vve lost my hundred dollars slap to save my feelins*. The duce take the voluntary ^ I say CHAPTER III. TRAINING A CARRIBOa In the evening we sauntered out on the bank of the river, Mr. Slick taking his rifle with him, to shoot blue-winged duck, that oflen float up the Avon with the tide in great numbers. He made several shots with remarkable accuracy, but having no dogs we lost all the birds, but two, in the eddies of this rapid river. It was a delightful evening, and on our return we ascended the cliff that overlooks the village and the sui- rounding country, and sat down on the projecting point of limestone rock, to enjoy the glories of the sunset. This evenin', said Mr. Slick, reminds me of one I spent the same way at Toronto, in Upper Canada, and of a conversa- tion I had with a British traveller there. There was only himself and me at the inn, and havin* nothin' above partikilar to do, says I, 'spose we take the rifle and waik down by tbo m 32 THE CLOCKMAKER. lake tliis splendid aflernoon ; who knows but we might sco somethin' or another to shoot? So off we sot, and it was so cool and pleasant we stroll'd a considerable distance up tre beach, which is like this, all limestone gravel, only cleanei and less scdcment in it. When we got tired of the glare of the water, and a nasty yallor scum that was on it at that season, we turned up a road that led into the woods. Why, says I, if there ain't a Carri- boo, as I'm alive. W^here? said he, seizin' the rifle, and bringin' it to his shoulder with great eagerness, — where is it? for heaven's sake let me have a shot at it ! 1 have long wish'd, said he, to have it to say, before I leave the province, that 1 had perfc . ed that feat of killin' a Carriboo. Oh, Lord ! said J, throwin' up the point of the gun to prevent an accident, — Oh, Lord ! it ain't one o' them are sort o' critters at all ; it's a human Carriboo. It's a member, him that's in that are gig, lookin' as wise as a barber's block with a new wig on it. Tho Toronto folks call 'em Carriboos, 'cause they are untamed wild critters from the woods, and come down in droves to the legislatur'. I guess he's agoin' to spend the night to the hotel, where we be ; if he is, I'll bring hvin i::to our room and train him : you 11 see what sort o' folks makes laws sometimes. I do believe, arter all, stys I, this univarsal suffrage will make univarsal fools of us all ; — it ain't one man in a thousand knows how to choose a horse, much less a member, pnd yet there arc some standin' rules about the horse, that most any one can larn, if he'll give his mind to it. There's the mark o' mouth, — then there's the limbs, shape, make, and sound- ness of 'em ; the eye, the shoulder, and, above all, the action It seems all plain enough, and yet it takes a considerable 'cute man to make a horse-jockey, and a little grain of the roguo too ; for there is no mistake about the matter — you must lie a Cew to put 'em off well. Now, that's only the lowest grade of knowledge. It takes more skill yet to be a nigger-jockey. A nigger-jockey, said he ; for heaven's sake, what is that ? 1 never hcer'd the term arfbre, since I was a created sinner — 1 hope I may be shot if I did. Possible, said I, never heer'd tell of a nigger-jockey ! My sakes, you must come to the States then ; — we'll put more wrinkles on your horns in a month than you'll get in twenty years here, for these critters don't know nothin'. A nigger-jockey, sir, says I, is a gentle- man that trades in niggers, — buys them in one State, and sella ihem m another, where they ar'n't known. It's a beautiful TKAINIirO A CARRIBOO. S3 iner — 1 heer'd to the science, is nigger flesh ; it's what the lawyers call a liberal profession. Uncle Enoch made enough in one year's tradin in niggers to buy a splendid plantation ; but it ain't every one that's up to it. A man must have his eye teeth cut afore ho lakes up that trade, or he is apt to be let in for it himself, in- stead of putting a Icake into others ; that's a fact. Niggers don't show their age like white folk, and they are most always older than they look. A little rest, ilein' the joints, good feed, a clean shirt, a false tooth or two, and dyin' the wool black if it's got gray, keepin' 'em close shav'd, and gist given' 'em a glass 'o whiskey or two afore the sale, to brighten up the eye, has put off many an old nigger of fifty-five for forty. It does more than trimmin' and groomin' a horse, by a long chalk. Then if a man knows geography, he fixes on a spot in the next State for meetin' ag'in, slips a few dollars in Sam- bo's hand, and Sambo slips the halter off in the manger, meets massa there, and is sold a second time ag'in. Wash the dye out, let the beard grow, and remove the tooth, and the devil himself couldn't swear to him ag'in. If it takes so much knowledge to choose a horse, or choose a nigger, what must it take to choose a member ? — Who knows he won't give the people the slip as Sambo does the first master ; ay, and look as different too, as a nigger does, when the dye rubs out, and his black wool looks white ag'in. Ah, squire, there are tricks in all trades, I do believe, except the clock trade. The nigger business, says I, is apt to get a man into court, too, as much as the horse trade, if he don' know the quirks of the law. I shall never forget a joke passed off once on a Southerner. I had been down to Charleston, South Carr, where brother Siah is located as a lawyer, and drives a considerable business in that line. Well, one df y as I was awalkin' along out o' town, aomokin' of my cigar, who should I meet but a poor old nigger, with a'most an almighty heavy load of pine-wood on his back, as much as he could cleverly stagger onder. Why, Sambo, said I, whose slave be you ? You've got a considerable of a heavy load there for a man of your years. Oh, Massa, says he, Gor Ormighty bless you (and he laid down his load, and puttin' one hand on his loins, and t'other on his thigh, he tried to straighten himself up.) I free man now, I no longer slave no more. I purchased my freedom from Gineral Crocodile, him that keeps public at Mud Creek. Oh, Massa,, but him gineral took me in terrible, by gosh ! Says he, Pompey, says he, 24 THE CLOCKMAKER. you one werry good nigger, werry faithful nigger. I great opinion of you, Pompey ; I maite a man of you, you dam old tar-brush. I hope I may be skinned alive with wild cats if 1 don't. How much money you save, Pomp ? Hunder dollars, says I. Well, says he, 1 will sell you your freedom for that are little sum. Oh, massa gineral, I said, I believe I lib and die wid you ; — what old man like me do now ? I too old for freeman. O no, massa, leab poor old Pomp to die among de niggers. I tend young massa Gineral and little missy Gine- ral, and teach 'em how to cow-skin de black villains. Oh, you smart man yet, he says, — quite sounds werry smai t man, you airn a great deal o' money : — I too great regard for you to keep you slave any longer. Well, he persuade me at last, and I buy freedom, and now I starve. I hab no one to take care ob me now ; I old and good for nothin' — I wish old Pomp very much dead; — and he boohood right out like a child. Then he sold you to yourself, did he ? Yes, massa. said he, and here de paper and de bill ob sale. And he told you you sound man yet ? True, massa, ebbery word. Then, says I, come along with me ; and I toated him along into Siah's office. Sy, says I, here's a job for you. Gineral Crocodile sold this poor old nigger to himself, and warrmted him sound wind and limb. He cheated him like a cantin' hy- pocritical sinner as he is, for he's foundered in his right foot, and ringboned on the left. Sue him on his warranty — there's some fun in't. — Fun, said Sy, I tell you it's a capital joke ; and he jump'd up and danced round his office asnappin' of his fingers, as if he were bit by a galley-nipper. How it will comflustrigate old Sim Ileter, the judge, won't it? I'll bam bousle him, Pll befogify his brain for him with warranties general, special, and implied, texts, notes, and comentries. ril lead him a dance through civil law, and common law, and statute law ; I'll read old Latin, old French, and old English to him ; I'll make his head turn like a mill-stone ; I'll make him stare like an owl atrying to read by day-light ; and ho larfed ready to kill himself. Sure enough he did bother him so agoin' up from one court to another, that Crocodile was glad to compound the matter to get clear of the joke, and paid old Pomp his hundred dollars back again ; that's a fact. In the course of the evenin', Mr. Buck, the member elec* for the township of Flats, in the Home district, came in, and I introduced him with much ceremony to the Britishe. , agivin of him a wink at the same time, as much as to say, now 111 il!! TRAINIIfO A CARRIDOO. 25 •how you the way to train a Carriboo. Well, Squire Buck, said I, I vow Vm glad to see you ; — how did you leave Mrs. Buck and all to home? — all well, I hope? Reasonable well, • give you thanks, sir, said he. And so they've elected you a member, eh? Well, they wanted some honest men among *em — that's a fact, and some onderstandin' men too ; how do you go, Tory or Radical ? Oh, pop'lar side of course, said Mr. Buck. M'Kenzie and Papinau have open'd my eyes I tell you ; I had no notion afore our government was so rotten — I'm for elective councils, short parliaments, ballot, universal suffrage, and ag'ip all officials. Right, said I, you are on the right side then, and no mistake. You've a plain path aforo you ; go straight ahead, and there's no fear. I should like to ao so, said he, but I don't understand these matters enough, I'm afeer'd, to probe 'em to the bottom ; perhaps you'll be so good as to advise me a little. I should like to talk over these things with you, as they say you are a considerable of an on- derstandin' man, and have seed a good deal of the world. Well, said I, nothin' would hapify me more, I do assure you. Be independent, that's the great thing ; be independent, that is, attack every thing. First of all, there's the Church; that's a grand target, fire away at that till you are tired. Raise a prejudice if you can, and then make every thing a Church question. But I'm a churchman myself, Mr. Slick ; and you wouldn't have me attack my own church, would you ? So much the better, said I, it looks liberal ; — true liberality ^ as far as my experience goes, lies in praisin' every other church, and abusin^ of your own ; it's only bigots that attacks other folks' doctrine and tenets ; no strong-minded, straight ahead, right up and down man does that. It shows a narrer mind and narrer heart that. But what fault is there with the church? said he: they mind their own business, as far s I see, and let other folks alone ; they have no priviles^e re that I know on, that other sects ha'en't got. It's pop'lar talk amcing some folks, and that's enough, said I. They are rich and their clergy are larned and genteel, and there's a good many envious people in the world ; — there's radicals in reli- gion as well as in politics, that would like to see 'em ail brought to a level. And then there's church lands: talk about dividin' them among other sects, givin' them to schools, and so on. There's no barm in robbing Peter if you pay Paul with it — a fair exchange is no robbery, all tie world 5ver ; then wind up with a church tithe sale, and a military *«* 26 THE CLOCKHAKER. r!ri,' nil I !li|'^ iiiii'i' Wi'K.' ■' massacre of a poor dissentin* old woman that was baganuted by bloody-minded sodgers while tryin' to save her pig. It will make an aflcctin' speech, draw tears from tho gallery, and thunJcrs of applause from the House. Then there's judges, another grand mark ; and councillors and rich men ; call 'em the little big men of a little colony, the would-be aristocracy — the oflicial gang — the favour'd few ; call 'em by their Christian and surnames ; John Den and Richard Fen, turn up your noses at 'em like a horse's tail that's double-nick'd. Salaries are a never-ending theme for you ; officials shouldn't be paid at all ; the honour is enough for 'em ; a patriot sarves his country for nothin'. Take some big salary for a text, and treat it this way : says you, there's John Doe's salary, it is seven hundred and thirty pounds a year, that is two pounds a day. Now, says you, that is sixteen common labourers' pay at two and six-pence each per day ; — shall it be said that one great mammoth offi- cial is worth sixteen free citizens who toil harder and faro worse than he does ? then take his income for ten years and multiply it. See, says you, in ten years he has received tho enormous sum of seven thousand five hundred pounds : then run over all the things seven thousand five hundred pounds would effect on roads, bridges, schools, and so on, and charge him with bavin' been the means of robbin' the country of all these blessin's : call 'em blood-suckers, pampered minions, bloated leeches. Then there's the college, says you ; it's for the aristocracy, to keep up distinctions, to rivet our fetters, to make the rich richer, and the strong stronger ; talk of native genius and self-taught artists, of natur's scholars, of home, spun talent ; it flatters the multitude this — it's pop'lar, you may depend. Call the troops mercenaries, vile hirelings, de- graded slaves ; turn up your eyes to the ceiling and invoke defeat and slaughter on 'em, if they dare to enforce the law ; talk of standing armies, of slavery, of legionary tyrants, — call 'em foreigners, vulturs thirsting for blood, — butchers, — every man killed in a row, or a mob, call a victim, a mur- dered man J — that's your sort, my darlin' — go the whole hog, and do tho thing genteel. Ani; thing that gives power to the masses will please the masses. If there was nothin' to attack ihere would be no champions ; if there is no grievance you must make one : call all changes reform, whether it makes it better or not, — any thing you want to alter, call an abuse. Hit that oppose you, call anti-reformers, upholders of abuses, n:ck bradshaw. 27 oigots, sycophants, oflico-secking Tories. Say they live by corruption, by oppressin' the people, and that's the reason they oppose all change. How streaked they'll look, won't they? It will make them scratch their heads and stare, I know. If there's any man you don't like, use your privilege and abuse him like Old Scratch, — lash him like a nigger, cut liim up beautiful — oh, it's a grand privilege that ! l)o this, and you'll be the speaker of the House, the first pot-hook on the crane, the truckle-head and cap-sheave — you will, I snore. Well, it does open a wide field, don't it, said Mr. Buck, for an ambitious man ? I vow, I believe I'll take your advice ; 1 like the idea amazin'ly. Lord, I wish I could talk like you, — you do trip it off so glib— I'll take your advice tho' — I will, I vow. Well then, Mr. Buck, if you really will take my ad- vice, I'll give it to you, said I, free-gratis for nothin'. Be honest, be consistent, be temperate ; be rather the advocate of internal improvement than political change ; of rational reform, but not organic alterations. Neither flatter the mob, nor flatter the government ; support what is right, oppose what is wrong; what you think, speak; try to satisfy your- self, and not others ; and if you are not popular, you will at least be respected ; popularity lasts but a day, respect will descend as a heritage to your children. CHAPTER IV. NICE BRADSIIAVV. *Ve lefl Gaspereaux early in the morning, intending to breakfast at Kentville. The air was cool and bracing, and the sun, which had just risen, shed a lustre over the scenery of this beautiful and fertile valley, which gave it a fresh and glowing appearance. A splendid country this, squire, said the Clockmaker ; that's a fact ; the Lord never made the boat of it. I wouldn't ax no better location in the farmin' line than any of these allotments ; grand grazin' grounds and superfine tillage lands. A man that know'd what ho was about might live like a fightir^ cock here, and no groat scratch- in' for it neither. Do you see that are house on that risin' hummock to the right there? Well, gist look at it, that's whaj I call about right. Flanked on both sides by an orchard zf 98 THE OLOCKMAKER. 'Ilii! lill ill best-grafted fruit, a tidy little clever flower-garden in front, that the galls see to, and a'most a grand sarce garden over the road there sheltered by them are willows. At the back side see them everlastin' big barns ; and, by gosh ! there goes the dairy cows ; a pretty sight too, that fourteen of 'era marchin' Indgian file arter milkin', down to that are medder Whonever you see a place all snugged up and lookin' like that are, depend on it the folks are of the right kind. Them flowers too, and that are honeysuckle, and rose-bushes show the family are brought up right; somethin' to do at home, instead of racin' about to quiltin' parties, huskin' frolics, gossipin', talkin' scandal, and neglectin' their business. Them little matters are like throwin' up straws, they show which way the wind is. When galls attend to them are things, it shows that they are what our minister used to call "right-minded." It keeps them busy, and when folks are busy, they ha'n't time to get into mischief; and it amuses them too, and it keeps the dear little critters healthy and cheerful. I believe PU alight and breakfast there, if you've no objection. I should like to see that citizen's improvements, and he's a plaguy nice man too, and will be proud to see you, you may depend. We accordingly drove up to the door, where we were met by Squire James Horton, a respectable, intelligent, cheerful- looking man, apparently of about fifty years of age. He received me with all the ease and warmth of a man to whom hospitality was habitual and agreeable, — thanked Mr. Slick for bringing me to see him, and observed that he was a plain farmer, and lived without any pretensions to be other than he was, and that he always felt pleased and gratified to see any stranger who would do him the favour to call upon him, and would accommodate himself to the plain fare of a plam coun- tryman. He said he lived out of the world, and the conversa- tion of strangers was often instructive, and always accept- able to him. He then conducted us into the house, and introduced us to his wife and daughters, two very handsome and extremely interesting girls, who had just returned from superintending the operations of the dairy. I was particularly struck with the extreme neatness and propriety of their attire plain and suitable to their morninc, occupations, but scrupu- lously nice in its appearance. As the clock struck seven, (a wooden clock, to which Mr. Slick looked with evident satisfaction as a proof of his pre- vious acquaintance,) the family were summoned, and Mr. NICK BRADSHAW. 39 Horton addressed a short but very appropriate prayer to the . rhrone of Grace, rendering the tribute of a grateful heart for the numerous blessings with which he was surrounded, and supplicating a continuance of divine favour. There was some- thing touching in the simplicity and fervour of his manner and in the unpretending style of his devotion, while there wag a total absence of that familiar tone of address so common in America, which, often bordering on profanity, shocks and dis- gusts those who have been accustomed to the more decoroua and respectful language of our beautiful liturgy. Breakfast was soon announced, and we sat down to an excellent and substantial repast, every thing abundant and good of its kind, and the whole prepared with a neatness that bespoke a well-regulated and orderly family. We were then conducted round the farm, and admired the method, regularity, and good order of the establishment. I guess this might compare with any of your English farms, said the Clock- maker ; it looks pretty considerable slick this — don't it ? We have great advantages in this country, said Mr. Horton ; our soil is naturally good, and we have such an abundance of salt^w sludge on the banks of the rivers, that we are enabled to piA.-' our uplands in the highest state of cultivation. Industry and economy can accomplish any thing here. We have not only good markets, but we enjoy an almost total exemption from taxation. We have a mild and paternal government, our lawsr are well and impartially administered, and we enjoy as much personal freedom as is consistent with the peace and good order of society. God grant that it may long continue so I and that we may render ourselves worthy of these blessings, by yielding the homage of grateful hearts to the Great Author and Giver of all good things. A bell ringing at the house at this time, reminded us that we were probably interfering with some of his arrangements, and we took leave of our kind host, and proceeded on our journey, strongly impressed with those feelings which a scene of domestic happiness and rural felicity like this never fails to inspire. We had not driven more than two or three miles before Mr. Slick suddenly checked his horse, and pointing to a farm on the right-hand side of the road, said. Now there is a con- trast for you, with a vengeance. That critter, said he, when he built that wrack of a house, (they call 'em a half-house here,) intended to add as much more to it some of these days, and accordingly put his chimbley outside, to sarve the new 80 THE CLOCKMAKER. part as well as the old. He has been too lazy, you see, * remove the bankin' put there the first fall, to keep the froa out o' the cellar, and it has rotted the sills olf*. and the houa has fell away from the chimbley, and he has had to prop i up with that great stick of timber, to keep it from conur down on its knees altogether. All the winders are boardo; up but one, and that has all the glass broke out. Look at tht barn ! — the roof has fell in in the middle, and the two gables stand starin' each other in the face, as if they would like to come closer together if they could, and consult what was best to be done. Them old geese and vetren fowls, that are so poor the foxes won't steal 'em for fear of hurtin' their teeth, — that little yaller, lantern-jawed, long-legged, rabbit-eared, runi of a pig, that's so weak it can't turn its tail up, — that old frame of a cow, astandin' there with its eyes shot-to, acontem- platin' of its latter eend, — and that varmint-lookin' horse, wuh his hocks swell'd bigger than his belly, that looks as if he had come to her funeral, — is all his stock, I guess. The goney has showed his sense in one thing, however, he has burnt all his fence up ; for there is no danger of other folks' cattle breakin' into his field to starve, and gives his Old Mooley a chance o' sneakin' into his neighbours* fields o' nights if she find an open gate, or a pair of bars down, to get a treat of clover now and then. O dear, if you was to get up airly of a mornin', afore the dew was off the ground, and mow that are field with a razor, and rake it with a fine-tooth comb, you wouldn't get stuff enough to keep one grasshopper through the winter, if you was to be hang'd for it. 'Spose we drive up to the door to light a cigar ; if Nick Bradshaw is to home, I should like to have a little chat with him. It's worth know- ing how he can farm with so little labour ; for any thing that saves labour in this country, where help is so plaguy dear, is worth larnin', you may depend. Observing us pause and point towards his domain, Nicho- las lifted off thf door and laid it on its side, and, emerging from his den of dirt and smoke, stood awhile reconnoitering us. He was a tall, well-built, athletic-looking man, possessed f great personal strength and surprising activity, but looked like a good-natured, careless fellow, who loved talking and smoking better than work, and preferred the pleasures of the tap-room to the labours of the field. He thinks we want his vote, said the Clockmaker. He's looking as big as all outdoors gist now, and waitin* for us to come td him. He wouldn't NICK BRADSHAW. 81 condescend to call the king his cousin gist at this present time. It's independent day with him, I calculate ; happy-lookin' crit- er, too, ain't he, with that are little, short, black pipe in his mouth ? The fact is, squii'^, the moment a man takes to a pipe he becomes a philosifer ;— -it's the poor man's friend ; it calms the mind, soothes the temper, and makes a man patient under trouble. It has made more good men, good husbands, kind masters, indulgent fathers, and honest fellers, than any other blessed thing in this univarsal world. The Indgians always buried a pipe and a skin of tobacco with their folks, in case smokin' should be the fashion in the next world, that they mightn't go unprovided. Gist look at him : his hat has got no crown in it, and the rim hangs loose by the side, like the bale of a bucket. His trousers and jacket are all Hying in tatters of different colour'd patches. He has one old shoe on one foot, and an ontanned mocasin on t'other. He ain't had his beard cut since last sheep-sheerin', and he looks as shaggy as a yearlin' colt. And yet you see tne critter has a rakish look too. That are old hat is cocked on one side quite know- in', he has both hands in his trousers pockets, as if he had somethin' worth feelin' there, while one eye, shot-to on ac- count of the smoke, and the other standin' out of the way of it as far as it can, makes him look like a bit of a wag. A.; man that didn't smoke, couldn't do that now, squire, l^oti may talk about fortitude, and patience, and Christian resigna- tion, and all that sort of thing, till you're tired ; I've seen it and heerd tell of it too, but I never knew an instance yet, where it didn't come a little grain-heavy or sour out of the oven. Philosophy is like most other guests I've seed, it likea to visit them as keeps good tables, and though it has somo poor acquaintances, it ain't more nor half pleased to be seen walkin' lock and lock with 'em. But smokin' Here he comes, tho', I swan ; he knows Old Clay, I reckon : he sees it ain't the candidate chap. This discovery dispelled the important airs of Nicholas, and taking the pipe out of his mouth, he retreated a pace or two, and took a running leap of ten or twelve feet across a stagnant pool of green water that graced his lawn, and served the double purpose of rearing goslings and breeding mus- quitoes, and by repeating these feats of agility on the grass several times, (as if to keep himself in practice,) was by the lide of the wagon in a few minutes. 'Mornin', Mr. Bradshaw, said the Clockmaker ; how's all Jcl' 83 THE CLOCKMAKER. \V'^ m i to home to-day? Reasonable well, I give you thanks.-— won't you alight ? Thank you, I gist stopt to light a cigar.— I'll bring you a bit o' fire, said Nick, in the twinklin' of an eye ; and bounding off to the house with similar gigantic strides, he was out of sight in a moment. Happy, good- natured citizen, that you see, squire, said Mr. Slick, he hain't been fool enough to stiffen himself by hard work neither ; for vou see he is as supple as an eel. The critter can jump like a catamount, and run like a deer ; he'd catch a fox a'most. that chap. Presently out bounded Nick in the same antelope style, waving over his head a lighted brand of three or four feei long. Here it is, said he, but you must be quick, -for this soil green wood won't hold fire in no time — it goes right out. It's like my old house there, and that's so rotten it won't hold a nail now ; after you drive one in you can pull it out with your finger. How are you off for tobacoc f said Mr. Slick. Grand, said he, got half a fig left yet. Get '.t for you in a minit, and the old lady's pipe too, and without i,v-aiting for a reply, was curvetting again off to the house. That goney, said the Clockmaker, is like a gun that goes off at half cock — there's no doin' nothin' with him. I didn't warn his backey, I only wanted an excuse to give him some ; but it's a strange thing that, squire, but it's as sure as rates, the poor are evtry where more liberaly more oblig'ri\ and more hospitable, according to their means, than the rich are : they beat them all hollar,— it's a fact, I assure you. When he returned, Mr. Slick told him that he was so spry, that he was out of hearing before he could stop him ; that he didn't require any himself, but was going to offer him a fig of first chop genuine stuff he had. Thank you, said he, as he took it, and put it to his nose ; — it has the right flavc^r that^ rather weak for me, tho'. I'm thinking it '11 gist suit the old lady. She smokes a good deal now for the cramp in her leg. She's troubled with the cramp sometimes, away down some where about the calf, and smokin', they say, is good for it. He then tooic the tobacco very scientifically between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand, and cut it into small ishreds that fell into the palm. Then holding both knife and fig between his teeth, he rolled, untwisted, and pulverised the cut tobacco by rubbing and grinding it between his two hands, and refilled and lighted his pipe, and pronouncing the tobacco a prime article, looked the very picture of happiness. How'i NICK BRADSHAW. St crops in a general way this year? paid Mr. Slick. Well, ihey are just about middling said he ; the seasons ha'n*t been very good lately, and somehow the land don't bear as it used to when I was a boy ; but I'm in great hopes times are goin* to be licttor now. They say things look brighter ; I feel a good deal encouraged myself. They tell me the governor's agoin' to appoint a new council ; I guess, they'll do sun'thin' for the country. Ah, said the Clockmaker, that indeed, that would be sun'thin' like, — it would make times quite brisk agin— • farmers could afford to live then. It would raise markets considerable. So I see in the papers, said Nick : the fact o* the matter is the assemblymen must do sun'thin' for the coun- try, or it will go to the dogs, that's sartain. They tell me too that the council doors are to be opened, so that we can hear the debates; — that will be a great privilege, won't it? Very, said the Clockmaker ; it will help the farmers amazin'ly that ; I should count that a great matter : they must be worth hearin', them counsellors. It's quite a treat to hear the members in the house, particularly when they talk about bankin'„ curren- cy, constitution, bounties, and such tough knotty things ,• — they go so deep into these matters, and know so much about 'em, it's quite edifyin'. I've larnt more new things, and more things I niver knew afore, in half an hour in the assembly, than ever I heerd afore in my life, and I expect t'other housw will be quite as wise. Well, I'm glad to hear you say so, said Nicholas ; I feel somehow quite encouraged myself: if we had a bounty of about a shilling a bushel for raisin' pota- toes, two-and-six-pence a bushel for wheat, and fifteen pence for oats, I think a body might have a chance to make out to scratch along to live here ; and I'm told when the council doors are opened, we shall actually get them. I must say, / feel qvite encouraged myself. But stop, said he, laying his hand on Mr. Slick, do you see that are varmint alookin' arter the old lady's chickins over there by the barn ? I had a crack at him yesterday, but he was too far off — wait abit ; and he scampered off to the house, brought out his gun, which had been previously loaded, and throwing himself on all fours, proceeded towards the barn as rapidly as a quadruped. Stop, stop, daddy, said a little halk-naked imp of a boy, stop till I get my cock-shy. Well, bear a hand then, said he, or he'll be off: I wont wait a minit. The boy darted into the house, and returned in an instant with a short round hard wood club in his hand, and throwing S4 THE CLOCKMAKER. ,i i !^ iMHii himself in the same posture, thrust his head under the skirts oC his lather's coat, and crawled aAer him, between his legs, the two appearing like one long monstrous reptile. Th«3 hawk, observing this unusual motion, rose higher into the air, us he slowly sailed round the building; but Nicholas, not liking to be balked of his shot, iired at a venture, and fortu- nately broke his wing. Stop, daddy, sai'l the boy, recovering his lect, stop, daddy, it's my turn now ; and I'ollowing the bird, that flew witb inconceivable rajjidity, like an ostrich, half running, half tlying, threw his cock-sby at him with un- erring aim, and killed him. Ain't he a whopper, daddy t said he. See ! and he stretched out his wings to their full extent — he's a sneezer, ain't he 1 I'll show him to mammy, I guess, and oflT he ran to the house to exhibit his prize. — Make a smart man that, said Nick, regarding his boy, as he carried off the bird, with looks of entire satisfaction : make a consid- erable of a smart man that, if the assembly men would only give us a chance ; but I feci quite encouraged now. I think we shall have a good brood of chickens this year, now that thievin' rascal has got his flint fixt ; and if them three regi- ments come to Halifax that's talked of this winter, poultry will fetch a'most a grand price, that's sartain. It appears to me there's a hawk, or a wild cat, or a fox, or a lawyer, or a constable, or a somethm' or another for everlastin'ly a both- erin' of a poor man ; but I feel quite encouraged now I never seed that critter yet, said the Clockmaker, that he didn'i say he felt " quite encouraged ;" he's always lookin' for the Assembly to do great things i'or him, and every year feels " quite encouraged" that they will do sun'thin' at the next session that will make his fortin. I wonder if folks will ever larn that politics are the seed mentioned in Scriptur' that fell by the road-side, and the fowls came and pick'd them up. They don't benefit tiie farmer, but they feed them hungry birds, — the party leaders. The bane of this country, squire, and indeed of all America, is havin' too much land ; they run over more ground than they can cultivate, and crop the land so severely that they run it out. A very large portion of land in America has been run out by repeated grain crops, and when you add that to land naterally too poor to bear grain, or too broken for cultivation, you will find this great country in a fair way to be ruined. The State of Varmont has nothin' like the exports it used to have, and a plaguy sight of the young folks come down td NICK BRADSIIAW. 316 e skirls lis lcg8, . The the air, his, not id ibrtu- overing ang the ostrich, A ith un- ly l suid 1 extent I guess. Make .1 I carried L consid- ild only 1 tliink low that rce regi- poultry )poars to er, or a r a both- , that he okin' for ear feels the next will ever that fell hem up. 1 hungry America, han they ey run it been run t to land iltivation, lined. :s it used ! down t« Doston to hire out ns helps. The two Carolinas and Var^nia are covered with places that have been given up as ruined, and many other Slates. We havVt the surplus of wheat and grain we used to have in the I/-nited Slates, and it never will be so plenty agin. That's the reason you hear of folks clear- in' land, makin' a farm, and sellin' of]' agin and goin' farther into the bush. They've exhausted it, and find it easier to clear new lands than to restore the old. A great deal of Nova Scotia is run out, and if it war'n't for the lime, marsh-mud, sea-weed, salt-sand, and what not, they've got here in such quantities, there'd be no cure for it. It takes good farmin' to keep an upland location in order, I tell you, and make it sustain itself. It takes more to fetch a farm to that's had the gizzard taken out of it, than it's worth. It actilly frightt ns me, when I think your agricultuhj in Britain is progressin', and the land better tilled every day, while thousand., I'j/on thousands of acres with us, are turned into barrens. No traveller as I've seed has noticed this, and our folks are not aware of it themselves to the extent of the evil. Squire, you and I won't live to see it, but if this awful robbin' of posterity goes on for another century as it has pro- gressed for the last hundred years, we'll be a nation of paupers. Very little land in America, even of the best, will carry more than one crop of wheat arter it's clear'd afore it wants manure; and where it's clear'd so fast, where's the manure to come from ? — it puzzles me (and I won't turn my back on any man in the farmin' line) — the Lord knows, for I don't ; but if there's a thing that scares me, it's this. Hullo ! hullo ! — said a voice behind us, and when we turned to look from whence it came, we saw Nicholas running and leaping over the fences of his neighbours like a greyhound. Stop a minit, said he, I want to speak to you. I feel quite encouraged since I seen you ; there's one quostion I forgot to ask you, Mr. Slick, for I should like amazin'ly to have your opinion. Who do you go for? I go for the Squire, said he: I'm aijoin' for to go round the sea-coast with him. I don' mean that at all, said he; — who do you go for in the election? There's to be a poll a Monday to Kentville; and Aylesford and Gasperaux are up; who do you go for? I don't go for either of 'em ; I wouldn't give a chaw of tobakcy for both on em: what is it to me who goes? Well, I don't suppose it is, but it's a great matter to us : who would you advise me to vote for ? Who is agoin' for to do the most good for you ? Ayles- 86 VHE CLOCKMAKER. ford. Who promises you the most? Aylesford. Vote ff t'other one then, for I never seed or heard tell of a feller yet that was very ready with his promises, that warn*t quite as ready to break them, when it suited his purpose; and it Aylesford comes abotherin' you, call our little Nick with his '* cock-shy," and let him take a shot at him. Any critter that finds out that all the world are rogues, and tells of the great things that he's agoin' for to do, ginerally overlooks the biggest rogue of all, and that's himself. Oh ! Gaspereaux for ever ! he's the man for your money, and no mistake. Well, said Nicholas, I believe you're half right. Aylesford did promise a shillin' a bushel bounty on potatoes tho', but I be- lieve he lied arter all. I'll lake your advice, — I feel quite encouraged now. If you'd like a coal to light your cigar by, said he, I'll step in here and get you one. Thank you, said Mr. Slick ; I have no occasion for one gist now. Well, I believe I'll drop in and light a pipe there myself then, any how. Good-b'ye — I feel quite encouraged now. Oh dear ! said the clockmaker, what a good-natered, good- for-nothin' simple toad that is. I suppose when the sheriff takes the vote of such cruters, he flatters himself he takes the sense of the county. What a difference atween him and Horton ! The one is a lazy, idle critter, wanderin' about talkin' politics, or snarin' rabbits, catchin' eels, or shootin' hawks, and neglectin' his work, and a pretty kettle of fish he's made of it. The other, a careful, steady-goin', Indus trious man, that leaves politics to them as likes dabblin' in troubled waters, and attends steadily to his business, and he's a credit to his country. . Yes, too much land is the ruin of us all this side o' the water. Afore I went to England I used to think that the onequal divisions of property there, and the system of landlord and tenant, was a curse to the country, and that there was more dignity and freedom to the indivi- dual, and more benefit to the nation, for every man to own the land he cultivated, as with us. But I've changed my mind ; I see its the cause of the high state of cultiva- tion in England, and the prosperity of its agriculture. If the great men had the land in their own hands there, every now and then an improvident one would skin the Boil, and run it out; bein' let to others he can't do it himself, and he takes plaguy good care by his lease his tenant shan't do it neither. Well then, there he is, with W« \! NICK BRADSHAW. 87 his capital to make great improvements, substantial repairs, and so on, and things are pushed up to perfection. In Nova Scotia there are hundreds and thousands that would be better off as tenants, if they would but only think BO. When a chap spends all his money in buying lands, and mortgages them to pay the rest of the price, he ain't able to stock his farm, and work it properly ; and he labours like a nigger all his life, and dies poor at last, while the land gctM run out in his hands, and is no good for ever after. Now if he was to hire the farm, the money that he paid for the pur chase would stock it complete, enable him to hire labour, — to wait for markets, — to buy up cattle cheap, and to sell them to advantage. . He'd make money he.nd over hand, while he'd throw the cost of all repairs and improvements on the owner. But you might talk till you were grey-headed, and you wouldn't persuade folks of that in this country. The glo- rious privilege of having a vote, to give to some goney of a member, carries the day. Well may they call it a dear privi- lege that, for it keeps them poor to their dyin' day. No, squire, your system of landlord and tenant is the best for the farmer, and the best for the nation. There never can be a high state of general cultivation without it. Agriculture wants the labour of the furmer and the money of the capitalist, — both must go hand in hand. When it is left to the farmer alone, it must dwindle for want of means — and the country must dwindle too. A nation, even if it is as big as our great one, if it has no general system of landlord and tenant adopted in it, must run out. We are undergoin' that process now. I'm most plaguy afeerd we shall run out ; that's a fact. A country is but a large estate at best ; — and if it is badly tilled and hard cropped, it must, in the eend, present the me- lancholy spectacle of a great exhausted farm. That's quite tncouragirC now, as Nick Bradshaw sayg, — ain't it? 38 TUB CLOCKMAK£IU -;,.>,, ■ ,. f.. CHAPTER V. 'Hi I W,: TRAVELLING IN AMERCA. Did you ever drink any Thames water, squire ? said tha Clockniaker ; because it is one of the greatest nateral curiosi- ties in the world. When I returned from Poland, in the hair spckclation, I sailed from London, and we had Thames water on board. Says I to the captain, says I, I guess you want to pyson us, don't you, with that are nasty, dirty, horrid stuff? how can you think o' tukin' such water as that ? Why, says he, Mr. Slick, it does make the best water in the warid — that's a fact; yes, and the best porter too; it farments, works off the scum, clarifies itself, and beats all natur' ; — and yet look at all them are sewers, and drains, and dye stuffs, and factory-wash, and onmentionables that are poured into it;— it beats the bugs, don't it? Well squire, our great country Is like that are Thames water, — it does receive the outpourin's of the world, — homocides and regicides, — ^jail-birds and galley-birds, — poor-house chaps and workhouse chaps, — re- bels, infidels, and forgers, — rogues of all sorts, sizes, and degrees, — but it farments, you see, and works clear; and what a'most a beautiful clear stream o' democracy it does make, — don't it ? Not hot enough for fog, nor cold enough for ice, nor limey enough to fur up the bylers, nor too hard to wash clean, nor raw enough to chop the skin, — but gist the thing ; that's a fact. I wish to gracious you'd come and see for yourself. I'd go with you and cost you nothin'. Pd take a prospectus of a new work and get subscribers ; take a pat- tern book of the Lowell factories for orders; and spekilate a little by the way, so as to clear my shot wherever we went. You must see for yourself, — yoi: can't larn nothin' from books. I have read all the travels in America, and there ain't one that's worth a cent. They don't understand us. They remind me of a lawyer examinin' of a witness; he don't want either the truth, the whole truth, or nothin' but the truth, out he wants to pick out of him gist so much as will prove his case, d'ye see, and would like him to keep dark about the rest ; puts artful questions to hira on purpose to get an answer to suit him ; stops him when he talks too fast, leads him when 1 RAVELLING IN AMERICA. 3;^ he goes too slow, praises his own witnesses sky high, and ahuscs the other si''o for lyin', equivocatin', parjurcd villains. That's gist the case with English travellers ; instead oflookm' nil round and sccin' into things first, and then comin' to an opinion, they make up their minds afore they come, and then look for facts to support their views. First comes a great high tory, and a rcpuhlic smells so bad in his nostrils, he's got his nose curl'd up like a pug-nose dog all thro' his jour- ney. He sees no established church, and he swears there's no religion; and he sees no livery helps, and he says it's all vulgar; and if he sees a citizen spit, he jumps a one side as scared as if it wor a rifle ao-om C7 oiK Then comes a radical, (and them English radicals are cantankerous-lookin' critters — that's a fact, — as sour as vinegar, and lookin' as cross and as hungry as a bear gist starved out in the spring,) and they say we have the slavery of opinion here ; tliat our preachers want moral courage, and that our great cities are cursed with the aristocracy of wealth. There is no picasin' either on 'em. Then come what minister used to call the Optimists, a set of folks, who talk you dcef about the perfectibility of human natur' ; that men, like caterpillars, will all turn into beautiful critters with wings like butterflies, — a sort of grub angels ;— that our great nation is a paradise, and our folks agettin' out o' the chrvsolis state into somethin' divine. I seldom or never talk to none o' them, unless it bo to bam 'em. They think they know every thing, and all they got to do is, to up Hudson like a shot, into the lakes full split, off to Mississippi and down to New Orleans full chisel, back to New York and up Kiliock, and home in a liner, anH write a book. They have a whole stock of notes. Spittin' — gougin',— • iynchin', — burnin' alive, — steam-boats blowed U(), — snags, — slavery, — stealin' — Texas, — state prisons, — men talk slow, — women talk loud, — both walk fast, — chat in steam-boats and stage-coaches, — anecdotes, and so on. Then out comes a book. If its a tory writes it, then the tory papers say it's the best pictur' they have seen ; — lively, interestin', intelligent. If a radical, then radical papers say it is a very philosophical work, (whenever a feller gets over his head in it, and cruel unintelligible, he's deep in philosophy, thai chap.) statesman- like view, able work, throws great light on the politics of the day. I wouldn't give a chaw of tobnckey for the books of all of 'em tied up and put into a meal-bag together. '^ Our folks sarve 'em as the Indgiiins used to sarvc the gulla m 4G THE CLOCKHAKER. down to Squantum In old pilgrim times. The cunnin' crittera used to muke a sort o* fish flakes, and catch hcrrin' and torn cods, and such sort o' fish, and put 'em on the flakes, and then crawl onder themselves, and as soon as the gulls lighted lo cat the fish, catch hold o' their legs and pull 'em thro'. Arter ihat, whenever a feller was made a fool on and took in, they used to say he was gulled. Well, if our folks don't gull them British travellers, it's a pity. They do make proper fools on *om ; that's a fact. Year afore last, I met an English gall a travellin' in a steam-boat ; she had a Frencli name that I can't recollect, tho* I got it on the tip o' my tongue too : you know who I mean- she wrote books on economy, — not domestic economy, as galls ought, but on political economy, as galls oughtent, for they don't know nothin' about it. She had a trumpet in her hand, — thinks I, who on airth is she agoin to hail, or is she agoin' to try echoes on the river ? I watched her for some time, and I found it was an ear trumpet. Well, well, says I, that's onlike most Engll^ travellers any way, for in a giniral way they wear magnifying glasses, and do enlarge things so, a body don't know 'em ag'in when he sees 'em. Now, this gall won't hear one half that's said, and will get that half wrong, and so it turned out. Says she to me, Beautiful country this Mr. Slick ; says she, I'm transported. Transported, said I, why, what onder the sun did you do to home to get transported ? — but she larfed right out like any thing ; delighted, I mean, said she, it's so beautiful. It is splendid, said I, no doubt ; there ain't the beat of it to be found any where. Oh ! said she, what views, what scenery, what woods, what a river ! how I should like to soar away up with that are eagle into the blue sky, and see all its beauties spread out afore me like a map ! How grand — every thing is on a grand scale I Have you seen the Kentuckians? said I. Not yet, said she. Stop then, said I, till you see thefii. They are on a scale that will please you, I guess ; whopping big fellows them, I tell you ; half horse, half alligator, with a touch of the airthquake. I wasn't a talking of the men, said she, 'tis the beauties of natur' I was admiring. Well, said I, once on a time I used to admire the beauties of natur' too, but I go cured of that. Sit down on this bench, said she, and tell me how it was ; — those kind o' anecdotes serve to illustrate the " moral of fcelin'." ^f feelin'!" Well Thinks I, this is philosophy now, "moral if the musqultocs don't illustrate vonr TRAVELLino IN AMERICA. 41 moral of leeling for you, some of these nights, Pm mistaken Very immoral fellows, those 'skeeters. Well, said I, my first tower in the Clock-trade was up Canada way, and I was (he first ever went up Huron with clocks. When I reached our fort, at Gratiot, who did I fimJ there as commander of the party, but the son of an old American hero, a sargent at Bunker's Hill. Well, bein' the son of an old veteran hero myself, it made quite a fellowship atween us, like. He bought a clock o' me, and invited mo to staj with him till a vessel arrived for Michigan. Well, in (he arternoon, we went for to take tea with a gentleman that had settled near the fort, and things were sot out in an arbour, surrounded with honeysuckle, and Isabella grape, and what not ; there was a view of the fort from it, and that elegant lake and endless forest ; it was lovely — that's a fact ; and the birds flocked round the place, lighted on it, and sung so sweet, — I thought it was the most romantic thing I ever seed since I was a created sinner. So said I to his wife, ^a German lady from one of the emigrant ships,) I prefer, said I, your band of birds to the Bowery band of New York, by a long chalk ; it's natur's music, it's most delightful, it's splendid ! Furder off, said she, I like 'em more better hash nearer ; for the nasty, dirty tivils they tirt in the tay and de shuker ; look there, she said, that's de tird cup now spilte. Lord, it made me sick ! I never had any romance in me arter that. Here the English gall turned round and looked ai me for a space quite hard. Said she, you are a humorous people, Mr. Slick ; you resemble the Irish very much,- — you remind me greatly of that lively, light-hearted, agreeable people. Thank jou, said I, marm, for that compliment; we are ginerally thought to resemble each other very much, both in looks and dress ; there's often great mistakes made when they first land from the likeness. Arter a considerable of a pause, she said. This must be a religious country, said she, ain't it ? for religion is the " high- est fact in man's right, and the root of all democracy." If religion is the root of democracy, said I, it bears some strange fruit sometimes, as the man said of the pine-tree the five gamblers were Lynched up to Vixburg. I'm glad to see, eaid she, you have no establishment — it's an incubus — a dead weight — a nightmare. I ain't able, said I ; I can't aflbrd it no now ; and besides, said I, I can't get no one to have me. Them that I would have won't have me, and them that would 49 THB CLOCKMAKER. have me, the devil wouldn't have, so I don't see as I'm like to be troubled with a nightmare lor one while. I don't mean that, said she, lau^hhi' ; I mean an Established Church. Oh! an LIstablished Church, said 1 ; now 1 understand ; but when I hear ladies talk of establishments, 1 al/vays think they have matrimony in their heads. The truth is, squire, I don't like to hear English people come out here, and abuse their church ; they've got a church and throve under it, and a na- tional character under it, for honour and upright dealin', such as no other people in Europe have : indeed, I could tell you of some folks who have to call thei.' goods English to get them off in a foreign land at all. The name sells 'e/n. You may boast of this tree or that tree, and call 'em this diction- ary name and that new-fangled name, but give me the tree that bears the best fruit, I say, A church must be paid, and the mode don't much signify ; at any rate, it ain't for them to abuse it, tho' other folks may choose to copy it, or let it alone, as it convenes them. Your people, said she, are in advance of the clergy ; your ministers are half men, half women, with a touch of the noodle. You'd be better without 'em ; their parochial visits do more harm than good. In that last remark, said I, I concur ; for if there's a gall in their vicinity, with a good fortin', they'll snap her up at once ; a feller has no chance with 'em. One on 'em did brother Eldad out of one hundred thousand dollars that way. I don't speak of that, said she, rather short like; but they haven't moral courage. They are not bold shepherds, but timid sheep ; they don't preach abolition, they don't meddle with public rights. As to that, said I, they don't think it right to hasten on the crisis, to preach up a servile war, to encourage the blacks to cut their masters' throats ; they think it a dangerous subject any way ; and besides, said I, they have scruples o' conscience if they ought to stir in it at all These matters are state rights, or state wrongs, if you please, and our Northern States have no more right to interfere in 'em than they have to interfere in the affairs of any other in- dependent sovereign state in Europe. So I don't blame minis- ters much for that, arter all, — so come now. In England, Bays I, you maintain that they ought not to meddle with pub- lic rights, and call 'em political priests, and all that sort o' thing, and here you abuse 'em for not meddlin' with 'em ; call *em cowards, dumb dogs, slaves to public opinion, and what .* There's no pleasin' some folks. - -*- ; TRAVELMXG IN AMERICA. 48 As to religion, says I, beiti' the " root of tlcmocracy," it** the root of monarchy too, and all guvornnients, or oui^hl to bo ; and there ain't that wide dillbicncc artor all atwcen the two countries some folks think on. Government here, both in theory and practice, resides with the people ; and religion is under the care of the rael government. With yon, govern- ment is in the executive, and religion is m tlie hands of tho government there. Church and state are to a sartain extent connected tiierefore in both. The dillerence with us is, we don't prefer one and establish it, and don't render its support compulsory. Better, perhaps, if we did, for it burns pretty near out sometimes here, and has to be brought to by revivals and camp-mectins', and all sorts of excitements ; and when it does come to, it don't give a steady clear light for some time, but spits and sputters and cracks like a candle that's got a drop o' water on the wick. It don't seem kinder rational, neither, that screamin' and screechin', and hoopin' and hol- lerin', like possest, and tumblin' into faintin's, and fits, and swoons, and what not. / don't like preachin' to the names instead of the judg- ment. — I recollect a lady once, tho',convarted by preachin' to her narves, that was an altered woman all the rest o' her days. How was that ? said she ; these stories illustrate the " science of religion." I like to hear them. There was a lady, said I, (and I thought I'd give her a story for her book,) that tried to rule her husband a little tighter than was agreea- ble, — meddlin' with things she didn't onderstand, and dictatin' in matters of politics and religion, and every thing a'most. So one day her husband had got up considerable airly in the mornin', and went out and got a tailor, and brought him into his wife's bed-room afore she was out o' bed : — " Measure that woman," said he, " for a pair of breeches ; she's detar- mined to wear 'em, and I'm resolved folks shall know it," and he shook the cowskin over the tailor's head to show him ho intended to be obeyed. It cured her, — she begged, and pray- ed, and cried, and promised obedience to her husband. He spared her, but it effectuated a cure. Now that's what I call preachin' to the narves : Lord, how she would have kicked and squeeled if the tailor had a . A very good story, said she, abowin' and amovin' a little, so as not to hear about tho measurin', — a very good siory indeed. If you was to revarse that maxim o' yourn, said I, and say democracy is too oflen found at the root of religion, you'd Im If 1,1 44 THE CLOCKMAKBR. nearer the mark, I reckon. I knew a case once exactly in point. Do tell it to me, said she ; it will illustrate " the spirit of religion." Yes, said I, and illustrate your book too, if you are a writin' one, as most English travellers do. Our con^ gregation, said I, at Slickville, contained most of the wealthy and respectable folk there, and a most powerful and united body it was. Well, there came a split once on the election of an elder, and a body of the upper-crust folks separated and '.vent off in a huff. Like most folks that separate in temper, they laid it all to conscience ; found out all at once they had been adrift afore all their lives, and join'd another church as different from our'n in creed as chalk is from cheese ; and to show their humility, hooked on to the poorest congregation in the place. Well, the minister was quite lifted up in the stir- rups when he saw these folks gine him ; and to show his zeal for them the next Sunday, he looked up at the gallery to the niggers, and, said he, my brether'n, said he, I beg you won't spit down any more on the aisle seats, for there be gentlemen there now. Gist turn your heads, my sable friends, and let go over your shoulders. Manners, my brothers, manners be- fore backey. Well, the niggers seceded ; they said, it was an infringement on their rights, on their privilege of spittin', as freemen, where they liked, how they liked, and when they liked, and they quit in a body. " Democracy," said they, " is the root of religion." Is that a fact 1 said she. No mistake, said I ; I seed it my- self; I know 'em all. Well, it's a curious fact, said she, and very illustrative. It illustrates the universality of spittin', and the universality of democracy. It's characteristic. I have no fear of a people where the right of spittin' is held sacred from the interminable assaults of priestcraft. She laid down her trumpet, and took out her pocket-book and began to write it down. She swallar'd it all. I have seen her book since, it's gist what I expected from her. The chapter on religion strikes at the root of all religion ; and the effects of such doc- trines are exhibited in the gross slander she has written ag'in her own sex in the States, from whom she received nothin' but kindness and hospitality. I don't call that pretty at all , it's enough to drive hospitality out of the land. I know what you allude to, said I, and fully concur with you in opinion, that it is a gross abominable slander, adopted on insufficient authority, and the more abominable from com- ing from a woman. Our church may be aristocratic ; but if TRAVELLINO IN AMERICA. "^M^' it is, it teaches good manners, and a regard for the decencies of life. Had she listened more to the roLfiilar (:Icrify,'and Iras to the modern illuminati, she might have leariud a litllo of that charity which induces us to think well of others, and to speak ill of none. It certainly was a great outrage, and I am Borry that outrage was perpetrated by an Englishwoman. I am proper glad you agree with me, squire, said he ; but come and see for yourself, and I will explain matters to yon ; for without some one to let you into things you won't understand us. I'll take great pleasure in bein' your guide, for I must say I like your conversation. — How singular this is ! to the natural reserve of my country, I add an uncommon taci- turnity ; but this peculiar adaptation to listening has every where established ibr me that rare, but most desirable reputa- tion, of being a good companion. It is evident, therefore, that listeners are everywhere more scarce than talkers, and are valued accordingly. Indeed, without them, what would be- come of the talkers ? Yes, I like your conversation, said the clockmaker (who the reader must have observed has had all the talk to himself). We are like the Chinese ; they have two languages, the writ- ten language and the spoken language. Strangers only get as far as the spoken one ; but all secret affairs of religion and government arc sealed up in the written one ; they can't make ^othin' of it. That's gist the case with us ; we have two lan- guages, one for strangers, and one for ourselves. A stranger must know this, or he's all adrift. We've got our own ditfi- culties, our own doubts, our own troubles, as well as other folks, — it would be strange if we hadn't ; but we don't choose to blart 'em all out to the world. Look at our President's Message last year ; he said, we was the most prosperous nation on the face of the airth, peace and plenty spreadin' over the land, and more wealth than wo know'd how to spend. At that very time we was on the point of national bankruptcy. He said, the great fire at New York did'nt cause one failure ; good reason why, the goods were ali owned at London and Lyons, and the failures took place there, and not here. Our President said on that occasion, our maxim is, " do no wrong, and suffer no insult." Well, at that very time our gineral was marchin' into the Mexican territory, ana our people off South, boarded Texas and took it, — and our n leave the lltiuidutioii niono — don't you jneddle with the iVaine, tiu; l)races, and i^irts j'or your life, or it will spread, hiiJu*' out, leak like tlu.' de\il, and conie to j)i(!C(*s some c' these; stormy ni;jjht.s ahoiit your ears ns sure ns you tiro born. Make no orf^anic chaiiffvu. Thoro nr(! (juncks in politics, squire, as well as in med'cine, — eriltera who have unevnrsal pills to cure all sorts o' diseases ; and niany*s the constitution, lujman and politic, they've fixt atwecn them. There's no knowin' the j^ripes and pains and colics they've caused ; and the worst of it is, the poor devils that get in their hands, wiien they arc on the broad of their backs can't help themselves, but turn up the whites of their eyes, and say. Oh dear! I'm very bad : Ijow will it go? Go, says thoy ; why, like a house afire, — full sj)lit, — goin' on grandly, —couldn't do no bc^tter, — gist what was expected. You'll have a new constitution, strong as a lion : oh ! goin' on grandly. Well, I dont know, says the misfortunate critter; but I feels a plaguy sight more like goin' o^' than goin' on, I tell you. Then comes apickin o' the bed-clothes, a clammy sweat, cold feet, the hiccup, rattles, and death. Sarve hiin right, says quack ; the cussed fool has had doctors too long about him in former days, and they sapped his constituiloi:, and fixt his flint for him: why did'nt he call me in sooner? The consaited ass thought he knowed every thing, and didn't foller out all my prescriptions; one comfort, though — his estate shall pay for it, I vow. Yes, squire, and that is the pity, win or lose, live or die, the estate does pay for it — that's a fact ; and what's worser, too, many on 'em care more about dividin' the spoil than effectin' the cure, by a long, chalk. There's always some jugglery or quackery agoin' on every where a'most. It puts me in mind of the Wilmot springs.— One of the greatest flams I ever heerd tell of in this province, was brought out hereabouts in Wilmot, and succeeded for a space beyond all calculation. Our sea sarpant was no touch to it, — and that was a grand steamboat speckilation too, for a nation sight of folks went from Boston down to Providence and back ag'in, on purpose to see the sarpant ii- the boat that first spoke it out to sea. But then they were all pleasurin' parties, young folks takin' a trip by water, instead of a quiltin' frolic to shore. It gave the galls somethin' to talk about and to do, to strain their little eyes through the captain's great big spy-glass, to see their nateral enemy, the sarpant ; and you 66 THE CLOCKMAKER. V ill U I may depend Ihey had all the curiosity of old Marm Eve too It vvas all young hearts and youni^ eyes, and pretty ones they were, I tell you. But this here VVilmot wonder was sort of n funeral atlair, an old and ugly assortment, a kind of Irish wake, part dead and part alive, wliere one half groaned with sorrow and pain, and t'other half groaned to keep 'em com- pany, — a rael, right down genui/ie hysteric frolic, near ahout as much cryin' as laughin', — it beat all natur'. I believe they actilly did good in sartain cases, in proper doses with proper diet ; and in some future day, in more knowin' hands they will come into vogue ag'in, and make a good speckilation ; but I have always obsarved when an article is once run down, and Iblks find out that it has got more puilin' than it desarves, they don't give it no credit at all, and it is a long time afore it comes round agin. The Wilmot springs are situated on the right there, away up, onder that mountain a-hcad on us. They sartainly did make a wonderful great noise three years ago. If the pool of Saloom had been there, it couldn't ahad a greater crowd o' clowns about it. The lame and maimed, the consumptive and dropsical, the cancerous and leprous, the old drunkard and the young rake, the barren wife and sick maid, the larfin' catholic and sour sectary, high and low, rich and poor, black and white, fools of all ages, sizes, and degrees, were assembled there adrinkin', bathin', and awashin' in the waters, and carryin' off the mud for poultices and plaisters. It killed some, and cured some, and fool'd a nation sight of folks. Down at the mouth of the spring, vhere it discharges into a stream, there is a soft bottom, and there you'd see a feller standing with one leg stuck in the mud ; another lying on a plank, with an arm shoved into the ooze up to the shoulder ; a third asittin' down, with a mask o' mould like a gypsum cast on his head ; others with naked feet spotted all over with the clay, to cure corns ; and these grouped ag'in here with an unfortunate feller with a stiff arm, who could only thrust in his elbow ; and there with another sittin' on a chair adanglin' his feet in the mire to cure the rheumalis j while a third, sunk up to his ribs, had a man apourin' water on his head for an eruption, as a gard'ner waters a trans- planted cabbage-plant, all declarin' they felt better, and won- derin' it had'nt been found out afore. It was horrid, I tell you, o see folks makin' such fools of themselves. If that are spring had belonged to an American citizen, that had made such an everlastin' touss about it, folks would have ELECTIVE COUNCILS. 61 Eve too •nes they sort of a of Irisli ncd with L-m com* ;ar about ieve they h proper nds they kilation ; Lin down, iesarves, e afore if i on the 1 on us. ee years n't ahad maimed, rous, the and sick low, rich degrees, a* in the plaisters. sight of scharges I'd see a er lying p to the d like a otfed all led ag'in ho could in' on a cumatis ; in' water a trans- ind won- tell you, zcn, that uid have Buid they calkelated it was a Yankee trick ; as it was, they set each other on, and every critter that came home from it sent half a dozen neighbours otf, — so none on 'em could larf at each other. Tlic road was uctilly covered witii people. I saw one old goncy, seventy years of age, stuck in a gig atween two matresses, like a carcase of mutton atween two bales of wool in a countryman's cart. The old fool was agoin' to be made young, and to be married when he returned to home. Folks believed every thing they heerd of it. They actilly swallered a story that a British officer that had a cork leg bathed there, and the flesh growed on it, so that no soul could tell the difference atween it and the nateral one. They be- lieved the age of miracles had come ; so a feller took a dead pig and throw'd it in, sayin' who know'd as it cured the half dead, that it wouldn't go the whole hog. That joke fixt the Wilmot springs : it turned the larf against 'em ; and it was lucky it did, for they were findin' springs gist like 'em every where. Every pool the pigs had ryled was tasted, and if it was too bad for the stomach, it was pronounced medicinal. The nearest doctor wrote an account of it for the newspapers, and said it had sulphur saltpetre in it, and that the mud when dried would make good powder, quite good enough to blow gypsum and shoot us Yankees. At last they exploded spon- taneous, the sulphur, saltpetre, and burnt brans went off them- selves, and nothin' has ever been since heerd of the Wilmot springs. It's pretty much the case in politics ; folks have always some bubble or another, — some elective council, — private bal- lot, — short parliaments, — or some pill or another to cure all political evils in natur'; with quacks enough to cry 'era up, and interested quacks also, who make their ned out of 'em, afore people get tired of them and their pills too. There was a time when there was too many public officers in your coun- cil here, but they've died off, or moved off, and too many of 'em lived to Halifax, and too few of 'em in the country, and folks thought a new deal would give 'em more fair play Well, they've got a new deal now, and new cardrs. So far so good. A change of men is no great matter — natur' is a changin' of 'em all the time if government don't. But the constitution is another thing. You can't take out the vitals and put in new ones, as you can in a watch-case, with any great chance of success, as ever I heerd tell of'. I've seen some most beautiful operations performed, too, by biother 52 THE CLOCKMAKER. Eldad, where the patients lived thro' 'em, — and he got n plaguy sight of credit for 'em, — but they all died a few days arterwards. Why, 'Dad, says I, what in natur' is the good o' them arc operations, and puttin' the poor critters to all that pain and misery, and their estate to so much expense, if it don't do 'em no good ? — for it seems to me that they all do go for it ; that's sartain. Well, it was a dreadful pretty operation tho', Sam, warik'l it 1 he'd say ; but the critter was desperate sick and peeower- fully weak ; I raely was e'en a'most afeer'd I shouldn't carry him thro' it. But what's the use on it at last, when it kills 'em ? said I ; for you see they do slip thro' your fingers in the ecnd. A feller, says he, Sam, that's considerable slippery all his life, may be a little slippery towards the eend on't, and there's no help for it, as I see ; — but Sam, said he, with a jupe o' the head, and a wink quite knowin', you ain't up to snuff yet, I see. It don't kill 'em if they don't die under the knife ; if you can carry 'em thro' the operation, and they die next day, they always die of sun'thin' else, and the doctor is a made man for ever and a day arterwards, too. Do you ap- prehend now,^ my boy ? Yes, says I, I apprehend there are tricks in other trades, as well as the clock trade ; only some on 'em ain't quite so innocent, and there's some I wouldn'v like to play I know. No, said he, I suppose not ; and then haw-hawin' right out — how soft we are, Sam, ain't we? said he. Yes, presarve the principle of the mechanism of your con- stitution, for it ain't a bad one, and presarve the balances, and the rest you can improve on without endangerin' the whole engin'. One thing too is sartain, — a power imprudently given to the executive^ or to the people, is seldom or never got hack, I ain't been to England since your Reform Bill passed, but some folks do say it works complete, that it goes as easy as a loaded wagon down hill, full chisel. Now suppose that bill was found to be alterin' of the balances, so that the constitu- tion couldn't work many years longer, without acomin' to a dead stand, could you repeal it 1 and say " as you were ?'* Let a bird out o' your hand and try to catch it ag'in, will you ? No, squire, said the Clockmaker, you have laws a re- gilatin' of quack doctors, but none a rcgilatin' of quack poli- ticians ; now a qiinck doctor is bad enough, and dangerous enough, gracious knows, but a quack politician is a devil out lawed — that's a fact. ;* SLAVERY. 69 e got n i\\ days le good all that ise, if it y all do , warik't eeower- 't carry it kills igers in slippery n't, and 1 a jupe o snuff e knife ; lie next or is a /^ou ap- ere are y some i^ouldn\ nd then I't we? >ur con- ies, and B whole y given it back, ed, but sy as a :hat bill onstitu- in' to a were ?'* in, will s a re- zk poli- igerous vil out CHAPTER VII. SLAVERY. The road from Kcntvillc to Wilmot passes over nn exten- sive and dreary sand plain, equally fatiguing to man and horse, and aAcr three hours' hard dragging on this heavy road, we looked out anxiously for an inn to rest and refresh our gallant " Clay." There it is, said Mr. Slick ; you'll know it by that high post, on which they have jibitted one of their governors ahorseback as a sign. The first night I stopt there, I vow I couldn't sleep a wink for the creakin' of it, as it swung back- wards and forwards in the wind. It sounded so nateral like, that I couldn't help thinkin' ii was a rael man bun.'/ in chains there. It put me in mind of the slave to Charleston, that was strung up for pysonin' his master and mistress. When we drove up to the door, a black man came out of the stable, and took the horse by the head in a listless and reluctant man- ner, but his attention was shortly awakened by the animal, whom he soon began to examine attentively. Him don't look like blue nose, said blacky, — sartin him stranger. Fine crit- ter, dat, by gosh, no mistake. From the horse his eye wandered to us ; when, slowly quitting his hold of the bridle, a^d stretching out his head, and stepping anxiously and cau.,. .sly round to where the Clockmaker was standing, he suddenly pulled off his hat, and throwing it up in the air, uttered one of the most piercing yells I think I ever heard, and throwing himself upon the ground, seized Mr. Slick round the legs with his arms. Oh, Massa Sammy ! Massa Sammy ! Oh, my Gor ! — only tink old Scippy see you once more ! How you do, Massa Sammy 1 Gor Ormighty bless you ! How you do? Why, who on airth are you ? said the Clockmaker ; what onder the sun do you mean by actin' so like a ravin' .listracted fool ? Get up this minnit, and let me see who you be, or I'll give you a sock- dologer in the ear with my foot, as sure as you are born. Who be yoi/, you nigger you ? Oh, Massa Sam, you no re- collect Old Scip, — Massa 'Slab's nigger boy ? How's Massa S/ .T>d Missey Sy, and all our children, and all our folks to i>* 54 THE CLOCKHAKER. •': I 'I rWM '■ P'i.-i ■:; ■i|;i: our house to home? De dear little lily, de SA^eet little booty, de little missy baby. Oh, how I do lub 'em ail ! In this manner the creature ran on, incoherently asking questions, sobbing, and blaming himself* ior having lell so good a master, and so comfortable a home. How is dat black villain, dat Cato ? he continued ; — Massa no hang him yet ? He is sold, said Mr. Slick, and has gone to New Orleens^ I giiess. Oh, I grad, upon my soul, I wery grad ; then he catch it, de dam black nigger — it sarve him right. I hope dey cowskin him well — I grad of dat, — oh Gor ! dat is good. I link I see him, de ugly brute. I hope they lay it into him well, dam him / I guess you'd better onharness Old Clay., and not leave him standin' all dav in the sun, said Mr. Slick. O goody gracy, yes, said the overjoyed negro, dat I will, and rub him down too till him all dry as bone, — debil a wet hair lef\. Oh, only tink, Massa Sammy Slick, — Massa Sammy Slick, — Scip see you again ! The Clockmaker accompanied him to the stable, and there gratified the curiosity of that affectifjuate creature by answer- ing all his inquiries after his master's family, and the state of the plantation and the slaves, it appears that he had been inveigled away by the mate of a Boston vessel that was load- ing at his master's estate ; and, notwithstanding all the sweets attending a state of liberty, was unhappy under the influence of a cold climate, hard labour, and the absence of all that real sympathy, which, notwithstanding the rod of the master, exists nowhere but where there is a community of interests. He entreated Mr. Slick to take him into his employment, and vowed eternal fidelity to him and his family if he would re- ceive him as a servant, and procure his manumission from his master. This arrangement having been effected to the satisfaction of both parties, we proceeded on our journey, leaving the |K:>or negro happy in the assurance that he would be sent to Slickville in the autumn. I feel provoked with that black ras cal, said Mr. Slick, for bein' such a born fool as to run away from so good a master as Josiah, for he is as kind-hearted a ritter as ever lived, — that's a fact, — and a plaguy easy man to his niggers. I used to tell him, I guessed he was the only slave on his plantation, for he had to see arter every thin' ; he had a dieadful sight more to do than they had. It was all work and no play with him. You forget, said 1, that his \o- \tour was voluntary, and for his own benefit, while that of the SLAVERY. 65 .:iv he negro is compulsory, and productive of no advantage to him« self. What do you think of the abolition of slavery in the United States ? said I : the interest of the subject appears to have increased very much of late. Well, I don't know, said he, — what is your opinion ? I ask, I replied, for information. It's a considerable of a snarl, that question, said he ; I don't know as 1 ever onravelled it altogether, and I ain't gist quite sartain I can — it's not so easy as it looks. I recollect the English gall I met atravellin' in the steamboat, axed me that same question. What do you think of slavery, said she, sir ? Slavery, marm, said I, is only fit for white lovers (and I made the old lady a scrape of the leg),— only fit, said I, for white lovers and black niggers. What an idea, said she, for a free man in a land of freedom to utter ! How that dreadful politi- cal evil demoralizes a people ! how it deadens our feelin's how it hardens the heart ! Have you no pity for the blacks 7 said she ; for you treat the subject with as much levity as if, to use one of the elegant and fashionable phrases of this country, you thought it all " in my eye." No marm, said I, with a very grave face, I haven't no pity at all for 'em, not the least mite nor morsel in the world. How dreadful, said she, and she looked ready to expire with sentiment. No feel- in' at all, said I, marm, for the blacks^ but a great deal of feelin' for the whites, for instead of bein' all in my eye, it's all in my nose, to have them nasty, horrid, fragrant critters, ago- in' thro' the house like scent-bottles with the stoppers out, aparfumin' of it up, like skunks — it's dreadful 1 Oh ! said I, it's enough to kill the poor critters. Phew ! it makes me sick, it does. No ; I keeps my pity for the poor whites, for they have the worst of it by a long chalk. The constant contemplation of this painful subject, said she, destroys the vision, and its deformities are divested of their horrors by their occurring so often as to become familiar. That, I said, Miss, is a just observation, and a profound and 1 cute one too — it is actilly f-^nndcd in natur'. I know a case n pint, I said. What is it ? said she, for she seemed mighty 'bnd of anecdotes (she wanted 'em for her book, I guess, for travels without anecdotes is like a puddin' without plums — all dough). Why, said I, marm, father had an English cow, a pet cow too, and a beautiful critter she was, a brindled short- horn ; he gave the matter of eighty dollars for her ; — she was begot by . Never mind her pedigree, said she. Well, •ays I, when the great eclipse was (you've heerd tell how if ' I 1:^ 56 THE CLOCKMAKER. frightens cattle, haven't you ?) Brindic stared and stated at it so, — she lost her cyc-siglit, and she was as blind as a bat ever nllcrwards. I hope 1 may be shot if she warn't. Now, i guess, ive that see more of slavery than you, are like IJrin- dle ; we have stared at it s'^ 'onij we can't see it as other Iblks do. You are a droll mar. s. d she, very droll ; but seriously, now, Mr. Slick, do you not think these unfortunate fellow- critters, our sable brothers, if emancipated, educated, and civilized, are capable of as much refinement and as high a degree of polish as the whites? Well, said I, joking apart, miss, — there's no doubt on it. I've been considerable down South atradin' among the whites, — and a kind-hearted, hospi- table, liberal race o' men they be, as ever I was among — generous, frank, manly folks. Well, I seed a good deal of the niggers, too ; it couldn't be otherwise. I must say your con- clusion is a just one, — I could give you several instances ; but there is one in pitickelar that settles the question ; I seed it myself with my own eyes to Charleston, South Car. Now, said she, that's what I like to hear ; give me facts, said she, for I am no visionary, Mr. Slick ; I don't build up a theory and then go alookin' for facts to support it ; but gather facts candidly and impartially, and then coolly and logically draw the inferences. Now tell me this instance which you think conclusive, for nothin' interests us English so much as what don't consarn us ; our West Indgy emancipation has worked so well, and improved our islands so much, we are enchanted with the very word emancipation ; it has a charm for English ears, beyond any thing you can conceive. — Them Islands will have spontaneous production afore long. But the refinement and polish of these interestin' critters the blacks, — your story if you please, sir. I have a younger brother. Miss, said I, that lives down to Charleston ; — he's a lawyer by trade — Squire Josiah Slick j he is a considerable of a literary character. He's well known m the great world as the author of the Historical, Statistical, and Topographical account of Cuttyhunck, in five volumes; a work that has raised the reputation of American genius among foreign nations nmazln , I assure you. He's quite a self-taucht author too. I'll yive vou a letter of introduction to him Me, said she, adrawin' up her neck like a swan You needn't look so scared, said I, niarm, for he is a mar- Tied man, and has one white wife and four white children, fourteen black concu I wanted to hear, sir, said she, quite SLAVERY. 57 snappishly, of the negroes, and not of your brother ani his domestic unangemcnts Well, mcirm, said I ; one day there was a dinner-party to Josiah's, and he made the samo remark you did, and instanced the rich black marchant of Philadel- phia, which position was contradicted by some other gentle- men there; so 'Siah offered to bet one thousand dol ars he could produce ten black gentlemen, who should be allowed, by good judges, to be more polished than any like number of whites that could be selected in the town of Charleston. Weil, the bet was taken, the money staked, and a note made of the tarms. Next day at ten o'clock, the time fixed, Josiah had his ten niggers nicely dressed, paraded out in the streets a facin' of the sun, and brought his friends and the umpires to decide the bet. Well, when they got near 'em, they put their hands to their eyes and looked down to the ground, and the tears ran down their cheeks like any thing. Whose checks? said she; blacks or whites ? this is very interestin'. Oh, the whites, to be sure, said I. Then, said she, I will record that mark of feelin' with great pleasure — I'll let the world know it. It docs honour to their heads and hearts. But not to their eyes, Iho', said I ; they swore they couldn't see a bit. What the devil have you got there. Slick 1 says they ; it has put our eyes out: damn them, how they shine! they look like black japan- ned tea-trays in the sun — it's blindin' — it's the devil, that's a fact. Are you satisfied ? said 'Sy. Satisfied of what ! says they ; satisfied with bein' as blind as buzzards, eh 1 Satisfied of the high polish niggers are capable of, said Josiah : why shouldn't nigger hide, with lots of Day and Martin's black in' on it, take as good a polish as cow hide, eh 1 Oh lord ! if you'd aheerd what a roar of larfter there was, for all Charles- ton was there a'most ; what a hurrain' and shoutin' : it was grand fun. I went up and shook hands with Josiah, for J always liked a joke from a boy. Well done 'Sv, says 1 . you've put the leake into 'em this hitch rael complete, it» grand ! But, says he, don't look so pleased, Sam ; they are cussed vexed, and if we crow I'll have to fight every onn op 'em, that's sartin, for they are plaguy touchy them Southern ers ; fight for nothin' a'most. But, Sam, said he, Connec^icul ain't a bad school for a boy arter all, is it ? I could tell you fitly such stories. Miss, says I. She drew up rather stately Thank you, sir, said she, that will do ; I am not sure whether it is a joke of your brother's or a hoax of your'n, but whose fvver it is, it has more practical wit than feelin' in it. , *^ 4 .♦ 5, J' 58 THE CLOCKMAKER. The truth is, said the Clockmaker, nothin' raises my dandet more, than to hear English folks and our Eastern citizens atalkin' about this subject that they don't understand, and have notliin' to do with. If such critters will go down South a meddlin' with things that don't consarn 'em, they desarve what they catch. I don't mean to say I aj>prove of lynchin', because that's horrid ; but when a feller gets himself kicked, or his nose pulled, and larns how the cowskin feels, I don't pity him one morsel. Our folks won't bear tamperin' with, as you Colonists do ; we won't stand no nonsense. The sub- ject IS gist a complete snarl ; it's all tangled, and twisted, and knotted so, old Nick himself wouldn't onravel it. What with private rights, public rights, and State rights, feelin', expe- diency, and public safety, it's a considerable of a tough sub- ject. The truth is, I ain't master of it myself. I'm no book man, I never was to college, and my time has been mostly spent in the clock trade and tooth business, and all I know is just a little I've picked up by the way. The tooth business, said I ; what is that ? do you mean to say you are a dentist ? No, said he, laughing ; the tooth business is pickin' up expe- rience. Whenever a feller is considerable cute with us, we say he has cut his eye teeth, he's tolerable sharp ; and the study of this I call the tooth business. Now I ain't able to lay it all down what I think as plain as brother Josiah can, but I have an idea there's a good deal in name, and that slavery is a word that frightens more than it hurts. It's some o' the branches or grafts of slavery that want cuttin' off Take away corporal punishment from the masters and give it to the law, forbid separatin' families and the right to compel marriage and other connexions, and you leave slavery nothin' more than sarvitude in name, and somethin' quite as good in fact. Every critter must work in this world, and a labourer is a slave ; but the labourer only gets enough to live on from day lo day, while the slave is tended in infancy, sickness, and old age, and has spare time enough given him to aim a good deal too. A married woman, if you come to that, is a slave, cal\ her what you will, wife, woman, angel, termegant, or devil, she's a slave; and if she happens to get the upper hand, the husband is a slave, and if he don't lead a worse life than iny black nigger, when he's under petticoat government, then my name is not Sam Slick. I'm no advocate of slavery, squire nor are any of our folks ; it's bad for the niggers, worse for SLAVERY. 60 dandei citizens nd, and n South desarve y rich in', kicked, , I don't n' with, ['he sub- ited, and hat with i', expe- jgh sub- no book I mostly know is jusincss, dentist 1 up expe- h us, we and the able to iah can, and that t's some tin' off id give it compel yr nothin' as good lirer is a rom day and old ood deal ave, cal\ or devil, land, the han any then my squire I'orse for the masters, and a cuss to any country ; but we have got it and the question is, what are we to do with it ? Let them an- swer that know, — I don't pretend to be able to. The subject was a disagreeable one, but it was a striking peculiarity of the Clockmaker's, that he never dwelt long upon any thing that was not a subject of national boast ; lie therefore very dexterously shifted both the subject and the scene of it to England, so as to furnish him with a retort, of which he was at all times exceedingly fond. I have heerd tel), said he, that you British have 'mancipated your niggers. Yes, said I, thank God ! slavery exists not in the British em- pire. Well, I take some credit to myself for that, said the Clockmaker ; it was me that sot that agoin' any way. You ! said I, with the most unfeigned astonishment ; — you / how could youj by any possibility be instrumental in that great national act? Well, I'll tell you, said he, tho' it's a consider- able of a long story too. When I returned from Poland, via London, in the hair speckelation of Jabish Green, I went down to Sheffield to execute a commission ; I had to bribe some master workmen to go out to America, and if I didn't fix 'em it's a pity. The critters wouldn't go at no rate, with- out the most extravagant onreasonable wages, that no busi- ness could afford no how. Well, there was nothin' to be done but to agree to it ; but things worked right in the long run : our folks soon larnt the business, and then they had to work for half nothin', or starve. It don't do to drive too hard a bargain always. When I was down there a gentleman called on me one arternoon, one John Canter by name, and says he, Mr. Slick, I've called to see you to make some inquiries about America ; me and my friends think of emigratin' there. Happy, says I, to give you any information in my power, sir, and a soci- ab'e dish o' chat is what I do like most amazin', — it's kind o' nateral to me talkin' is. So we sot down and chatted away about our great nation all the arternoon and evenin', and him and me got as thick as two thieves afore we parted. — If you will be to home to-morrow evenin', says he, I will call again, if you will give me leave. Sartin, says I, most happy. Well, next evenin' he came ag'in ; and in the course of talk, says he, I was born a quaker, Mr. Slick. Plenty of 'em with us, says I, and well to do in the world too, — considerable stiff folks in their way them quakers, — you can't no more mcve 'em than a church steeple. I like the quakers, too, says CO THE CLOCKMAKER. ■ ^' 'MM ■*> !, for Ihnrc are worse folks thnn them agoin* in the world by a lonjr chalk'. VVc;!!, lately I've dissented from 'cm, says he.— Curious that too, savs I. I was a thiukin' the beaver didn't shade the inner man quite as much as 1 have seed it : but, says I, I like dissent; it shows that a man has hoth a mind and a conscience too ; if he hadn't a mind he couldn't dissent, and if he hadn't a conscience he wouldn't ; a man, therefore, who quits his church always stands a notch higher with me than a stupid obstinate creature that sticks to it 'cause he was born and brought up in it, and his father belonged to it— *>ierc's no sense in that. A quaker is a very set man in his way ; a dissenter therefore from a quaker must be what I call a considerable of a obstinate man, says he, larfin'. No, says I, not gist exactly that, but he must carry a pretty tolera« ble stiff upper lip, tho' — that's a fact. Well, says he, Mr. Slick, this country is an aristocratic country, a very aristocratic country indeed, and it taint easy for a man to push himself when he has no great friends or family interest ; besides, if a man has some little talent — says he, (and he squeezed his chin between his fore-finger and thumb, as much as to say, tho' I say it that should'nt say it, 1 have a very tolerable share of it at any rate,) he has no opportunity of risin' by bringin' himself afore the public. Every avenue is filled. A man has no chance to come for- ward, — money won't do it, for that I have, — talent won't do it, for the opportunity is wantin'. I believe I'll go to the States, where all men are equal, and one has neither the trouble of risin' nor the vexation of fallin'. Then you'd like to come forward in public life here, would you, said I, if you had a chance? I would, says he; that's the truth. Give mo your hand then, says I, my friend, I've got an idea that will make your fortin. I'll put you in a track that will make A man of you first, and a nobleman afterwards, as sure as thou says thee. Walk into the niggers, says 1, and they'll help you to walk into the whites, and they'll make you walk mto parliament. Walk into the niggers! sa5's he; and he sot and stared like a cat awatchin' of a mouse-hole; — walk into the niggers ! — what's that ? I don't ondcrstand you. — Take up 'mancipation, says I, and work it up till it works you up ; cal. meetin's and make speeches to 'em ; — get uj) societies and make reports to 'em ; — get up petitions to parliament, and get signets to 'em. Enlist the women on your side, of all ages, sects, and denominations. Excite 'em first tho', for Tomen SLAVERY. Ci rid by a ya he. — r didn't it : but, 1 a mind dissent, iierefore, with me 3 he was I to it— in in his lat I cali n'. No, y tolera' Istocratic lint easy riends or nt — says [iger and nt say it, 3 has no e public, ome for- won't do ro to the ithcr the rou'd like I, if you Give mo that will nil make sure as id they'll you walk nd he sol ivalk into L,._Take you up ; leties and t, and get all ages, T 'vomen folks are poor toc^A till you get 'cm up: but excite tlicin, and they'll go the whole figur,' — wake up the whole country. It's a grand subject for it, — broken hearted slaves killin' tlitin- selves in despair, or dyin' a lingerin' death, — tusk-nmstcr's whip acultin' into their flesh, — burnin' suns, — days o' toil — nights o' grief — pestilential rice-grounds — chains — starvation — misery and death, — grand figur's them for oratrjj, and make splendid speeches, if well put together. Says you, such is the spirit of British freedom, that the moment a slave touches our sea-girt shores, his spirit bursts its bonds; he stands 'mancipated, disenthralled, and liberated ; his chains fall right off, and he walks in all the naked majesty of a great big black he nigger ! It sounds Irish that, and Josiah used to say they come up to the Americans a'most in pure eloquence. It's grand, it's sublime that, you may dej)cnd. When you get 'em up to the right pitch, says you, we have no power in parliament ; we must have abolition members. Certainly, says they, and who so fit as the good, the pious, the christian-like John Canter ; up you arc put then, and bundled free gratis, head over heels, into parliament. When you are in the House o' Commons, at it ag'in, blue-jacket, for life. Some good men, some weak men, and a most a plaguy sight of hypocritical men wiW join you. Cant carries sway always now. A large paity in the Hoise, and a wappin' large party out o' the house, must be kept quiet, conciliated, or whatever the right word it>, and John Canter is made Lord Lavender. I see, I see, said he ; a glorious prospect of doin' good, of aidin' my fellow mortals, of beiii' useful in my generation. I hope for a more imperishable reward than a coronet, — the approbation of my own consciT:,ncc. W^ell, well, says I to myself, if you ain't the most impudent as well as ])harisaical villain that ever went onhung, then I never seed n finished rascal, — that's all. He took my advice, and went right at it, tooth and nail ; worked day and night, and made a'most a deuce of a stir. His name was in every paper ; — a nicotin' held here to-day, — that great and good man John Canter in- the chair; — a mcetin' held there to-morro^v, — addressed most eloquently by that philanthropist, philosopher, and Christian, John Canter; — a society formed in one place, John Canter secretary; — a society formed in another place, John Canter president : — John Canter every where ; — if you went to Lon- don, he handed you a subscription list, — if you went to Brigh- 16 -1 *;.\ THE CLOCKMAKER. ton, he met you with a petition, — if you went to Sheffield, h« filled your pockets with tructs ; — he was a complete jack-o'- lantern, here and there, and every where. The last 1 heerd tell of him was in parliament, and agoin' out governor-general of some of the colonies. I've seen a good many superfine saints in my time, squire, but this critter was the most upper- crust one I ever seed, — he did beat all. Yes, the English desarve some credit no doubt ; but when you substract electioneering party spirit, hippocracyi ambition, ministerial flourishes, and all the undertow causes that ope- rated in this work, whi(*h at Ijcst was but clumsily contrived and bunglin'ly cx<,'cutcd, it don't leave so much to brag on arter all, does it now 1 CHAPTER VIII. TALKING LATIN. Do you see them are country galls there, said Mr. Slick, how they are tricked out in silks, and touched oflT with lace and ribbon to the nine's, a niincin' along with parasols in their hands, as if they were afear'd the sun would melt them like wax, or take the colour out of their face, like a printed cotton blind ? Well, that's gist the ruin of this country. It ain't poverty, the blue noses have to fear, for that they needn't know without they choose to make ac(juaintance with it ; but it's gentility. They go the whole hog in this country, you may depend. They ain't content to appear what they be, but want to be what they ain't; they live too extravagant, and dress too extravagant, and won't do what's the only thing that will supply this extravagance : that is, be industrious. Gist go into one of the moetin' houses, back here in the woods, where there ought to be nothin' but homespun cloth, and home- made stufls and bonnets, and see the leghorns and pclmettors, and silks and shalieys, morenos, gauzes, and blonds, assem- bl(id there, enough to buy the best farm in the settlement. There's somelhin' not altogether gist right in this ; and tho worst of these habits is, they ruinate the young folks, and they grow up as big goneys as the old ones, and eend in the name way, by bein' half-starved at last ; there's a false pride, false feelin', and false edicution here. I mind once, I yfa» TALKING LATIN. 63 fficld, be jack^o*- : 1 hecrd r-general superfine ttt upper- but wlicn ambition, that c)pe- ;ontrived brag on Hr. Slick with lace Is in their them like ted cotton It ain't r needn't h it ; but ntry, you ey be, but rani., and hing that us. Gist le woods, md home- clmcttors, Is, assem- eltlernent. and tho folks, and iud in the ilse pride, ice, I wa? down this way to Canaan, a vendin' o' my clocks, and who should I overtake but Nabal Green, apokin' along in his wagon, half-loaded with notions from the retail shops, at the cross roads. Why, Nabal, said I, are you agoin' to set up for a merchant, for I see you've got a considerable of an assort, ment of goods there ? you've got enough o' them to make p pedlar's fortin I'lnost. Who's dead, and what's to pay now? Why, friend Slick, said he, how do you do? who'd a thought o' seein you here 1 You see my old lady, said he, is agoin' for to give our Arabella, that's gist returned from bordin' school to Halifax, a let off to night. Most all the bet- termost folks in these parts are axed, and the doctor, the law- yer, and the minister is invited ; it's no skim-milk story, I do assure you, but upper crust, real jam. Ruth intends to do the tiling handsome. She says she don't do it oHen, but when she does, she likes to go the whole figur', and do it genteel. If she hasn't a show of dough-nuts and prasarves, and apple sarse and punkin pies and sarsages, it's a pity ; it*s taken al'i hands of us, the old lady and her galls too, besides the helps, the best part of a week past preparin'. I say nothin*, but it's most turned the house inside out, a settin' up things in this room, or toatin' 'em out of that into t'other, and all in such a conflustrigation, that I'm glad when they send me of an arrand to be out of the way. It's lucky them harrycanes don't come every day, for they do scatter things about at a great rate, ah topsy-turvey like, — that's sartin. Won't you call in and see us to night, Mr. Slick ? folks will be amazin' glad to see you, and I'll show you some as pritty lookin' galls to my mind, in our settlement here, as you'll see in Connecticut, I know. Well, says I, I don't care if I do ; there's nothin' I like more nor a frolic, and the dear little critters I do like to be among 'em too, — that's sartin. In tho evenin' I drives over to Nabal's, and aiter puttin up my beast. Old Clay, I goes into the house, and sure enough, there they was as big as life. The young ladies asittin' on one side, and the men a standin' up by the door, and chatter- in' away in great good humour. There was a young chap a holdin' forth to the men about politics ; he was a young trader, set up by some merchant in Halifax, to ruinate the settlemcni with good-for-nothin' trumpery they hadn't no occasion for, — chock full of concait and affectation, and beginnin' to feel his way with the yard-stick to assembly already. Great dandy was Mr. Bobbin ; he looked gist as if he hs4 G4 THE CLOCKMAKEK. came out of the tailor's hands, spic and span ; put out his lips and drew down his brow, as if ha had a triclc o' thinkin some, times — nodded his head and winked, as if he knew more than he'd like to tell — talked of talent quite glib, but disdainful, as if he would'nt touch some folks with a pair of tongs; a «.neat scholar too was Mr. Bobbin, always sj)oke dictionary, and used heavy artillery words. I don't entertain no manner of doubt if government would take him at his own valuation, he'd be found to be a man o' great worth. I never liked the critter, and always gave him a poke when I got a chance. IJo was a town mcetin' orator ; grand school that to lam public epeakin', squire; a nice muddy pool for young ducks to larn to swim in. He was a grand hand to read lectures, in black- smiths' shops, at yandues, and the like, and talked politics over his counter at a great size. He looked big and talked bii;, and altogether was a considerable big man in his own concait. He dealt in reform. He had ballot tape, sulfrage ribbon, radi- cal lace, no tithe hats, and beautiful j)ipcs with a democrat's head on 'em, and the maxim, " No sinecure," under it. Every thing had its motto. No, sir, said he, to some one he was a talkin' to as 1 came in, this country is attenuated to pulveriza- tion by its aristocracy — a proud haughty aristocracy ; a cor- rupt, a lignious, and a lapidinous aristocracy ; put them into a parcel, envelope 'em with a panoply of paper, tie them up and put them into the scales, and they will be found wantin'. There is not a pound of honesty among 'em, nay not an ounce, nay not a penny weight. The article is wanting — it is not in their catalogue. The word never occurs either in their order, or in their invoice. They wont bear the inspec- tion, — they are not marchantable, — nothin' but refuse. If there is no honesty in the market, sayr I, why don't you hnport some, and retail it out? you might make some con- siderable profit on it, and do good to the country too ; it would be quite patriotic that. I'm glad to see, says I, one honest man talkin' poli'Ics any how, for there's one thing I've obsarved in the course / my experience, whenever a man suspects all the world that's above him, of roguery, he must be a pretty considerable superfine darned — (rogue himself, whispered 6ome critter standin' hy, loud enough for all on 'em to hear, and to set the whole party achokin' with larller) — ;judge of ihe article himself, says I. Now, says I, if you do import it, gist let us know how you sell it, — by the yaro, ''.e quart, ur the pound, will you ? for it ain't set down in any tradin' tables TALKING LATIN. C5 fj ! • ut his lips ikin some- more than Juinfui, as i ; a great nary, and nanncr of valuation, r liked tlie lance. Ho arn public :;ks to larn 1, in black- jlitics over talked big, vn concait. bbon, radi- demof rat's it. Every c he was a • pulveriza- cy ; a cor* hem into a lem up and d wantin'. ay not an i^anting — it s either in the inspcc- jse. ' don't you some con- D ; it would 3ne honest c obsarved uspects all be a pretty whispered m to hear, —judge of do import ']e quart, idin' tables I vc seen, whether it is for long measure, dry measure, or weight. VVell, says he, atryin* to larf, as if he didn't take the hint, I'll let you know, for it might be some use to you perhaps, in the clock trade. May be, you'll be a customer, as well as the aristocrats. But how is clocks now? said he, and he gave his neighbour a nudge with his elbow, as much as to say I guess it's my turn now, — how do clocks go? Like som young country traders I've seen in my time, says I ; don't go long afore they arc run down, and have to be wound up again. They are considerable better too, like them, for bein' kept in their own place, and plaguy apt to go wrong when moved out of it. Thinks i to myself, take your change out o' that, young man, will you ? for I'd heerd tell the goney had said they had cheats enough in Nova Scotia, without havin' Yankee clockmakcrs to put now wrinkles on their horns. Why, you are quite witty this evenin', said he; you've been masticatin* mustard, I apprehend ; I was always fond of it from a boy, said I, and it's a pity the blue noses didn't chew a little more of it, I tell you ; it would help 'em, p'raps, to disgest their jokes better, I estimate. Why, I didn't mean no offence, said he, I do assure you. Nor I neither, said I ; I hope you didn't take it any way parsonal. Says I, friend Bobbin, you have talked a considerable hard o' me afore now, and made out the Yankees, most as big rogues as your great men be ; but I never thought any thing hard of it : 1 only said, says I, he puts me in mind of Mrs. Squire Ichabod Birch. What's that? says the folks W'hy, Bays I, Marm Birch was acomin' down stairs one mornin' airly, and what should she see but the stable-help akissin' of the cook in the corner of the entry, and she afcndin' off liko a brave one. You good-for-nothin' hussy, said Marm Birch, get out of my house this minit : I won't have no such onde- cent carryin's on here, on no account. You horrid critter, get out o' my sight ; and as for you, said she to the Irishman, don't you never dare to show your ugly face here agin. 1 wonder you ain't ashamed of yourselves, — both on you begone ; away with you, bag and baggage ! Huliol says the squire, as he follcrd down in his dressin* gownd and slippers; hullo! says ho, what's all this lousa about ? Nothin', says Pat, ascratchin' of his head, nothin', your honour,-— only the mistress says she'll have no kissin' in ihc house, but what she does herself. The cook had my jack- THE CLOCKMAKER. knife in her pocket, your honour, and wouldn't give it to me, but sot off and ran here with it, and I arter her, and caught her. I gist put my hand in her pocket promisc'ously to sarch for it, — and when I found it I was tryin' to kiss her by way of forfeit like, and that's the long and short o' the matter The mistress says she'll let no one but herself in the house do that same. Tut, — tut, — tut ! says the squire, and 'jarfed right out ; both on you go and attend tc your work then, and let's hear no more about it. Now, you are like Marm Birch, friend Bobbin, says I — you think nobody has a right to be honest but yourself; but there is more o' that arter all agoin' in the world, than you have any notion of, I tell you. Feelin' a hand on my arm, I turns round, and who should I see but Marm Green. Dear me, said she, is that you, Mr. Slick ? I've been looking' all about for you for ever so long. How do you do? — I hope 1 see you quite well. Hearty as brandy, marm, says I, tho' not quite as strong, and a great deal heartier for a seein' of you. How be you ? Reasonable well, and stirrin', says she : I try to keep amovin' ; but I shall give the charge of things soon to Arabella : have you seen her yet ? No, says I, I havn't had the pleasure since her return : but I hear folks say she is a'most splendid fine gall. Well, come, then, said she, atakin' o' my arm, let me intro- duce you to her. She is a. fine gall, Mr. Slick, that's a fact ; and tho' I say it that shouldn't say it, she's a considerable of an accomplished gall too. There is no touch to her in these parts: minister's dau' htcr that was all one winter to St. John can't hold a candle to her. Can't she, tho' ? said I. No, said she, that she can't, the consaited minx, tho' she does carry her head so high. One of the gentlemen that played at the show of the wild beasts said to me, says he, I'll tell you what it is, Marm Green, said he, your daughter has a beautiful touch — that's a fact ,• most galls can play a little, but yours docs the thing complete. And so she ought, says she, takin' her five quarters into view. Five quarters ! said I ; well, if that don't beat all ! well, I never heerd tell of a gall hivin' five quarters afore since I was raised I The skin, said I, I must say, is a most beautiful one ; but as for the tallow, who ever heard of a gall's tallow ? The fifth quarter ! — Oh Lord ! said I, marm, you'll kill me, — and I haw hawed right out. Why, Mr. Slick, says she, nin't you ashamed? do, for gracious sake, behave yourself; ] meant five quarters' school in': what a droll man you be. TALKING LATIN. 67 fe it to me, md caught ;ly to sarch ler by way the matter house du and 'jarfed then, and arm Birch, right to be all agoin' DU. who should you, Mr. cr so long. Hearty as nd a great [Reasonable but I shall you seen since her i fine gall. me intro- at's a fact ; Dnsiderable to her in inter to St. lid I. No, does carry lyed at the 1 you what a beautiful yours docs , takin* her ^ell, if that hivin' five d I, I must , who ever you'll kill , says she, yourself; 1 n you be. Oh ! five quarters' schoolin' ! says I ; now I understand. And, said s»he, if she don't paint it's a pity ? Paint ! said I ; why, you don't say so ! I thought that are beautiful colour was all nateral. Well, I never could kiss a gall that painted. Mother used to say it was snilin' under false colours — I 'most wonder you could allow her to paint, for I'm sure there ain't the least morsel of occasion for it in the world : you may say that — ii is a pity ! Get out, said she, you imperance ; you know'd belter nor that ; I meant her pictures. Oh ! her pictures, said I J now 1 see ;— does she, tho' ? Well, that is an accomplish- ment you don't often sec, I tell you. — Let her alone for that, said her mother. Here, Arabella, dear, said she, come here dear, and bring Mr. Slick your pictur' of the river that's got the two vessels in it, — Captain Noah Oak's sloop, and Peter Zinck's schooner. A\ liv, ir.y sakes, mamma, said Miss Arabella, with a toss of her prclty little saucy mug, do yo!i expect me to show that to Mr. Slick ? why, he'll only larf at it, — he larfs at every thi.ig that ain't Yankee. Larf, said I, now do tell : I guess I'd be very sorry to do such an ongenteel thing, to any one, — much less, Miss, to a young lady like you. No indeed, not I. Yes, said her mother ; do, Bella, dear ; Mr. Slick will excuse any little defects, I'm sure ; she's had only five quarters you know, and you'll make allowances, won't you, Mr. Slick ? I dare say, I said, they don't stand in need of no allowances at all, so don't be so backward, my dear. Arter a good deal of mock modesty, out skips Miss Arabella, and returns with a great large water colour drawin' as big as a winder-shutter, and carried it up aforo her face as a hookin' cow does a board over her eyes to keep her from makin' right at you. Now, said her mother, \o >h\h is pleased as a peacock when it's in full fig with it" . lU and tail up, now, says she, Mr. Slick, you are a considerable judge of paintin' — seein' that you do bronzin' and gildin' so beautiful — now don't you call that splendid? Splendid ! says I ; I guess there ain't the beat of it to be found in this country, any how ; I never seed anv thing like it : vou couldn't ditto it in the province I know. J guess not, said her mother, nor m the next province neither. It sartainly beats all, said I. And so it did. Squire ; you'd adied if you'd aseed it, for larfin. There was two vessels one right above t'other, a great big black cloud on the top, and a church-steeple standin' under the bottom of the schooner. Well, says I, that is beautiful— that's a fact ; but the water, said I, miss ; you havD't done ir 68 THE CLOCKMAKER. >'i''i'!ii ''!#''' that yet , vhen you put that in, it will be complete. Not yet, Raid she ; the greatest difficulty I have in paintin' is in makin' water. Have you tho' ? said I; well that is a pity. "Ves, said she, it's the hardest thing in natur' — I cant do it straight, nor make it look of the right colour; and Mr. Acre, our mas- ter, said you must always make water in straight lines in painting, or it ain't natcral and ain't plgasin' ; vessels too are considerable hard ; if you make thorn straight up and down they look stilFand ongraceful like, and if you put them onder sail then you should know all about lixin' the sails the right way for the wind — if you don't, it's blundcrsome. I'm terri- bly troubled with the effect of wind. Oh ! says I. Yes, I am, said she, and if I could only manage wind and water in paintin' landscapes, why it would be nothin' — I'd do 'em in a jilfey ; but to produce the right effect these thmgs take a great deal of practice. I thought I should have snorted right out to hear the little critter run on with such a regular bam. Oh dear ! said I to myself, what pains some folks do take to make fools of their children : here's as nice a little heifer as ever was, alettin' of her clapper run away with her like an onruly horse : she don't know where it will take her to yet, no more than the man in the moon. As she carried it out again, her mother said. Now, I take some credit to myself, Mr. Slick, for that ; — she is throwed away here ; but I was detarmined to have her educated, and so I sent her to bordin' school, and you see the uiTect of her five quarters. Afore she went, she was three years to the combined school in this district, that includes both Dalhousie and Sherbrooke : you have combined schools in the States, hav'n't you, Mr. Slick ? I guess we have, said I ; boys and galls combined ; I was to one on 'em, when I was consider- able well grown up : Lord, what fun we had ! It's a grand place to larn the multiplication table at, ain't it? I recollect once, — Oh fie! Mr. Slick, I mean a simlnary for young gen- tlemen and ladies where they larn Latin and English com- bined. Oh latten ! said I ; they larn latten there, do they ? Well, come, there is some sense in that ; I didn't know there was a factory of it in all Nova Scotia. I know how to make latten , father sent me clean away to New York to larn it. You mix up calamine and copper, and it makes a brass as near like gold as one pea is like another; and then there is another kind o' latten workin' tin over iron, — it makes a most complete imitation of i;ilver. Oh ! a knowledge of latten has TALKING LATIir. 60 Not yet, in makin* ity. \es, it straight, , our mas* it lines in 3ls too are and down hem onder 3 the right I'm tcrri- I. Yes, I I water in lo 'em in a ikc a great ight out to bam. Oh [Jo take to 3 heifer as ler like an her to yet, ow, I take th rowed cated, and bet of her ars to the Dalhousie he States, boys and consider- a grand I recollect Dung gen- lish com- do they ? now there ,v to make to lam it. brass as n there is lCS a most lattcn has oeen of great sarvice to me in the clock trade, you may do pend. It has helped mo to a nation sight of the genuwine metals, — that's a fact. Why, what on airth are you atalkin' about? said Mrs. Green. I don't, mean that latten at all ; I mean the Latin they lam at schools. Well, I don't know, said I : I never seed any other kind o' latten, nor ever heerd tell of any. What is it? Why, it's a it's a . Oh, you know well enough, said she; only you make ns if you didri't, to poke fun at me. I believe, on my soul, you've oeen abammin' of me tho whole blessed time. I hope I be shot if I do, said I ; so do tell me what it is. Is it any thing in the silk factory line, or the straw-plat, or the cotton warp way ? Your head, said she, considerable niifiy, is always a runnin' on a factory Latin is a . Nabal, said she, do tell me what Latin is. Latin, says he, — why, Latin is ahem, it's what they teach at the Combined School. Well, says she, we all know that as well as you do, Mr. Wisehead; but what is it? Come here, Araljella dear, and tell me what Latin is? Why, Latin, ma, said Arabella, is, — nm-o, I love ; am-at, he loves ; am-amus, we love ; — that's Latin. Well, it does sound dread- ful pretty, tho', don't it? says I ; and yet, if Latin is love and love is Latin, you hadn't no occasion, — and I got up, and slipt my hand into hers — you hadn't no occasion to go to Ijie Com- bined School to lam it ; for natur', says I, teaches that a and I was whisperin' of the rest o' the sentence in her ear, when her mother said, — Come, come, Mr. Slick, what's that you are asaying of? Talkin' Latin, says I, — awinkin' to Arabella ; — ain't we, miss? Oh yes, said she, — returnin' the squeeze of my hand and larfin' ; — oh yes, mother, artcr al; he understands it complete. Then take my seal here, says the old lady, anc both on you sit down and talk it, for it will be a good practice for you ; — and away she sailed to the eend of the room, and left us a — talkin*r Latin. 1 hadn't been asittin' there long afore doctor Ivory ITovey came up, asmirkin', and asmiliii', and arubbin' of his hands, as if he was agoin' to say sonicthin' very witty ; and I ob- served, the moment he came, Arabella took herself olf. She said, she couldn't 'bide him at all. Well, Mr. Slick, said he, how are you ? how do you do, upon an average, c^h ? Pray, what's your opinion of matters and things in general, eh'* Do you think you could exhibit such a show of fine bloornin* S;alls in Slickville, eh ? Not a bad chance for vou, I gucss-^ '1' \'^ r I'i r. Ill 1.1 'A |i!i',',' ^'iii*!! 70 THE CLOCKMAKER. (and he gave that word guess a twang that made the folka Inrf all round,) — said he, for you to speckilate for a wife, eh? Well, says I, there is a pretty show o' galls, — that's .sart?.iu, — but they wouldn't condescend to the like o' me. I was athinkin' there was some on 'em that would gist suit you to a r. ilfc, says he, adrawin' of himself up and looking big, — me / and he turned up his nose like a pointer dog when the birds flowed oft*. When / honour a lady with the ofter of my hand, says he, it will be a lady. Well, thinks I, if you ain't a consaited critter it's a pity ; most on 'em are a plaguy sight too good for you, so I will gist pay you oft' in your own coin. Says I, you put me in mind of Lawyer Endicot's dog. What's that? says the folks acrowdin' round to hear it, for I seed plain enough that not one on 'em liked him one morsel. Says I, he had a great big black dog that he used to carry about with him every where he went, into the churches and into the court. The dog was always abotherin' of the judges, agettin* between their legs, and they used to order him to ho turned out every day, and they always told the lawyer to keep his dog to home. At last, old Judge Person said to the constable one day, in a voice of thunder. Turn out that dog ! and the judge gave him a kick that sent him half-way across the room, yelpin' and howlin' like any thing. The lawyer was properly vexed at this ; so says he to the dog, Pompey, says he, come here ! and the dog came up to him. Didn't I always tell you, said he, to keep out o' bad company ? Take that said he, agivin' of him a'most an awful kick, — take that ! — and the next time only go among gentlemen ; and away went the dog, lookin' foolish enough, you may depend. What do you mean by that are story, sir? said he, abristliu' up like a mastiflT. Noihin', says I ; only that a puppy sometimes gets into company that's too good for him, by mistake ; and, if he forgets himself, is plaguy apt to get bundled out faster than he came in ; and I got up and walked away to the other side. Folks gave him the nickname of Endicot's dog arter that, and 1 was glad on it ; it sarvcd him right, the consaited ass. I heerd the critter amutterin' sun'thin' of *he Clockmaker illustratin' his own case, but, as I didn't 'M to be parsonal, I made as if I didn't hear him. As I went over towards the side table, who should I see aleanin' up against it but Mr. Bobbin, pretty considerably well shaved, with a glass o' grog in his hand, alookin' as cross as you please, and so far gone, ho was athinkin' aloud, and atalkin' to himself. There comes TALKING LATIN. H •soil sawder," says he, and "human naturV' — amranln me — a Yankee broom, — wooden nutmegs, — cussed saicy, — great mind to kick him. Arabelhrs got her head turned,— consaited minx ; — good exterior, but nothin' in her, — hko Shck's clocks, all gilded and varnished outside, and soil wood within. Gist do lor Ivory Hovey, — same breed, — big head, — long ears, — a pair of donkeys 1 Shy old cock, that dea- con, — -joins Temperance Societies to get popular, — slips the gin in, pretends it's water; — I see him. But here goes, 1 be- lieve I'll slip ofi'. Thinks I, it's getlin' on for mornin' ; I'll slip olF too; so out I goes and harnesses up Old Clay, and drives home. Gist as I came from the barn and got opposite to the house, I heerd some one acrackin' of his whip, and abawlin' out at a great size, and I looked up, and who should I see but Bobbin in his wagon ag'in the pole fence. Comin' in the air had inade him blind drunk, lie was alickin' away at the top pole of the fence, and afancying his horse was there, and wouldn't go. — Who comes there I said he. Clockmaker, said I. Gist take my horse by the head, — that's ci good feller, — will you ? said he, and lead him out as far as the road. Cuss him, ho won't stir. Spiles a good horse to lead him, says I ; he al- ways looks for it again. Gist you lay it on to him well,— his hams ain't made o' hickory like mine. Cut away at him; he'll go by and by ; — and I drove away and left him acuttin' and aslashin' at the fence for dear life. Thinks 1, you are not the first ass that has been brought to a poll, any how. Next day, I met Nabal. Well, said he, Mr. Slick, you hit your young trader rather hard last night ; but I warn't sorry to hear you, tho', for the critter is so lull of consait, it will do him good. He wants to pull every one down to his own level, as he can't rise to theirs, and is for everlastin'ly spoutin' about House of Assembly business, oflicials, aristocrats, and such stuff; he'd be a plaguy sight better, in my mind, attoiidin' to his own business, instead of talkin' of other folks' ; and usin' his yardstick more, and his tongue less. And l)ct\veen you and me, IVIr. Slick, said he, — tho' I hope you won't let on to any one that I said any thing to you about it — but atwcen ourselves, as we are alone here, I am athinkin' my old woman is in a fair way to turn Arabella's head too. All this paintin', and singin', and talkin' Latin, is very well, I consait, for ihom who have time for it, and nothin' better to do to home It's better p'r'aps *o be adoin' of that than aJoin' of nothin', bul '/2 THE CLOCKMAKER. for the like o' us, who have to live by farmin', and keep a considerable of a large dairy, and upwards of a hundred sheep, it docs seem to me sometimes as if it were a little out of place. Ue candid now, said he, for I should like to hear what your rael genuwine opinion is touchin' this matter, seein* tliat you know a good deal of the world. Why, friend Nabal, says I, as you've asked my advice, I'll give it to you ; tho' any thin' partainin' to the apron-string is what 1 don't call myself a judge of, and feel delicate of med- dlin' with. Woman is woman, says I ; that's a fact ; and a feller that will go for to provoke hornets, is plaguy apt to get himself stung, and I don't know us it does not sarve him right too ; but this I must say, friend, that you're just about half right, — that's a fact. The proper music for a farmer's house is the spinnin'-wheel — the true paintin' the dye stuffs,— and the tambourin' the loom. Teach Arabella to be useful and not showy, prudent and not extravagant. She is gist about as nice a gall as yviu'll see in a day's ride ; now don't spoil her, and let her get her head turned, for it would be a rael right down pity. One thing you may depend on lor sar- tain, as a maxim in the farmin' line, — a good darter and a good housekeeper, is plaguy apt to make a good wife and a good mother. CHAPTER IX. THE SNOW WREATH. Whoever has read Ilaliburton's History of Nova Scotia ywhich, next to Mr. Josiah Slick's History of Cuttyhunk, in five volumes, is the most important account of unimportant things I have ever seen,) will recollect that this good city of Annapolis is the most ancient one in North America ; but •here is one fact omitted by that author, which I trust he will not think an intrusion upon his province, if I take the liberty Df recording, and that is, that in addition to its being the most ancient — it is also the most loyal city of this Western Hemi- sphere. This character it has always sustained, and " royal," Rs a mark of peculiar favor, has ever been added to its cog- nomen by every government that has had dominion over it. Under the French, with whom it was a great favorite, it THE SNOW WREATH. 73 Scotia ink, in portant ity of :a ; but he will liberty le most HeiTii- roval," was called Port Royal ; and the *;r>o(l tinccn Anno, >vh<» con- descended to adopt it, permitted it to be c;i|led Annapolia Royal. A book issuing from Nova Scotia is, as Black wood very justly observes, in his never-lo-be-lbrguiten, nor ev(.'r- lo-be-sulliciently-admired review of the first series of this work, one ol" thost; unexpected events that from tii(;ir great improbability, appear almost incredible. Entertaining no doubt, tiicrefore, that every member of the cabinet will read this lu.ws natitrcPy 1 take this opportunity of informing them that our most gracious Sovereign (iueen Victoria, has not in nil her wide-spread dominions more devoted or loyal subjects than the good people of Annapolis Royal. Here it was, said I, Mr. Slick, that the egg was laid of that American bird, whose progeny have since spread over this immense continent. Well, it is a most beautiful bird too, ain't it? said he; what a plumage it has! what a size it is! It is a whopper — that's sartain ; it has the courage and the soarin' of the eagle, and the colour of the peacock, and his majestic step and keen eye ; the world never seed the beat of it ; that's tt fact. IIow streaked the English must feel when they think they once had it in the cage and could'nt keep it there; it is a pity they are so invyous tho', I declare. Not at all, I assure you, I replied ; there's not a man among them who is not ready to admit all you have advanced in favour of your na- tional emblem ; the fantastic strut of the peacock, the melodi- ous and attic tones, the gaudy apparel, the fondness for display which is perpetually exhibiting to the world the ex- tended tail with painted stars, the amiable disposition of the bird towards the younger and feebler offspring of others, the unwieldy I thought so, said he; I had'nt ought to have spoke of it afore you, for it does seem to rylc you ; that's mrtain ; and I don't know as it was gist altogether right to allude to a thin' that is so humblin' to your national pride. But) squire, ain't this been a hot day? I think it would pass muster among the hot ones of the West Indgies a'most. I do wish I could gist slip off my flesh and sit in my bones for a sp'ice, to cool myself, for I ain't seed such thawy weather this m.iny a year, I know. I calculate I will brew a little lemonade, for Marm Bailey ginerally keeps the materials for that Tem- perance Society drink. This climate o' Nova Scotia does run to extremes ; it has the hottest and the coldest days in it I ever seed. I shall never forget a night I spent here three winters ago. I come very H THE CLOCKMAKER. m near freezin' to death. The very thought of that night wib cool mo the hottest day in sunjnicr. It was about the lattei eend of February, as fur as my memory surves me, 1 cumo down iKjre to cross over tiic bay to St. John, and it was con- siderable arter daylight down wiien I arrived. It was the most violent slippery weather, and the most cruel cold, J think, I ever mind seein' since I was raised. Says Marm Bailey to me, Mr. Slick, says she, I don't know what onder the sun I'm agoin' to do with you, or how I shaU Ik) able to accommodate you, for there's a whole raft of Iblks from Halifax here, and a batch of moose-hunting otHcers, and I don't know who all ; and the house is chuck full, I declare. Well, says I, I'm no ways partikilar — I can put up with most anything. I'll gist take a stretch here, afore the fire on the floor ; — for I'm e'en a'most chilled to death, and awful sleepy too; fust come, says I, first sarvcd, you know's an old rule, and luck's the word now-a days. Yes, I'll gist take the hearth- rug for it, and a good tvarm birth it is too. Well, says she, I can't think o' that at no rate: there's old Mrs. Fairns in the next street but one ; she's got a spare bed she lets out some- times : ril send up to her to get it ready for you, and to-mor- row these folks will be olf, and then you can have your old quarters again. So arter supper, old Johnny Farquhar, the English help, showed me up to the widder's. She was considerable in years, but a cheerfulsome old lady and very pleasant, but she had a darter, the prettiest gall I ever seed since I was created. There was somethin' or another al)out her that made a body feel melancholy too ; she was a lovely-looking critter, but her countenance was sad ; she was tall and well-made, had beau- tiful lookin' lonsj black hair and black eves ; but oh ! how pale she was ! — and the only colour she had was a little fever- like lookin' red about her lips. She was dressed in black, which made her countenance look more marble-like ; and yet whatever it was, — natur', or consumption, or dcsartion, or set- tin' on the anxious benches, or what not, that made her look so, yet she hadn't fallen away one morsel, but was full formed and well waisted. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I felt a kind o' interest in her ; I seemed as if I'd like tr hear her story, for s'omethin' or another had gone wrong, — that was clear ; some little story of the heart, most like, for young galls are plaguy apt to have a tender spot thereabouts. She never smiled, and when she looked on me, she looked so THE SNOW WREATH. 7« e lattci I came lis con- was th» cold, 1 i*t knoDV / I 8haU of folks ;crs, and declare, ilh most e ou the jl sleepy old rule, 3 hearth- ays she, ns in the »ut some- i to-mor- your old ish help, rable in but she created. a body but hor d bcau- oh! how Ic fever- black, and yet , or set- her look I formed 3r. like tc vrong, — like, foi reabouis. coked stf in n streaked ani so sad, and cold withal, it made mo kmder su- ppfstitious. Iler voicr, too, was so sweet, and yet so doleful, (hut 1 ielt proper sorry, nnd ainazinV-urious too; thinks I, V\\ gist ax to-morrow all about her, for folks have pretty cute ears m Annapolis ; there ain't a smack of a kiss tluit ain't hecrd ill over town in two two's and sometimes they think they heer em oven afore they happt^n. It's a'most a grand place for lews, like all other small |)laces I ever seed. Well, 1 tried jokin' and funny stories, and every kind o' thing to raise a larf, but all wouldn't do ; she talked and listened and chatted away as if there was nothin' above partikiler; but still no ivnUc ; her face was cold and clear and bright as the icy sur- face of a lake, and so transparent too, you could see the veins n it. Arter awhile, the old lady showed me to my chamber, ind there was a fire in it ; but oh ! my sakes, how cold ! it was .ike goin' down into a well in summer — it made my blood fairly thicken ag'in. Your tumbler is out, squire; try a little more of that lemonade; that iced water is grand. Well, I sot over the fire a space, and gathered up the little bits o' brands and kindlin' wood, (for the logs were green, and wouldn't burn up at no rate;) and then I ondrcssed and made a despe- rate jump right into the cold bed with only half clothes enough on it for such weather, and wrapped up all the clothes around me. Well, I thought I should have died. The frost was in the sheets, — and mv breath looked likti the steam from a boilin' tea-kettle, and it settled right down on the quilt, and froze into white hoar. The nails in the house cracked like a gun with a wet wad, — they went olF like thunder, and, now and then, you'd hear some one run along ever so fast, as if he couldn't show his nose to it for one minit, and the snow crack- in' and crumplin' onder his feet, like a new shoe with a stiff sole to it. The fire wouldn't blaze no longer, and only gave up a blue smoke, and the glass in the window looked all fuzzy with the frost. Thinks I, I'll freeze to death to a sartainty. If I go for to drop off asleej), as sure as the world I'll never wake up ag'in. I've hecrin' tell of folks alure now feelin dozy like, out in the cold, and layin' down to sl«>ep, and goia for it, and I don't half like to try it, I vow. Well, I got c a» siderable narvous like, and I kept awnko near about all night, tremblin' and shakin' like ague. My t(>efh f lirly rc like a then the moaned 1 freezin* lin' to an ivered all covered, tc and so consaited „^ct, and I > near the rrin', and ; he id is frienda you may so sa\s I, 11 perish, a siidw- ■Dnw ; it's all over ; und with that she fainted, and iill riirlit across \\w bed. Oh I how cold she was ! the chill struck info me ; I feel it yet ; the very thout^hts is enough to give one the nvruc. Well, I'm a modest man, squin* ; I was always modest from a boy ; hut there was no time for ceremony now, lor there; was a sullerin* dyin' critter — so I dniw her in, and Iblded her in my arms, in ho|x;s she would come to, but u ever see her again I pray, what hecaine of her .' W ould you believe it said he ; the n(.'Xt mornin', when 1 caMie down, there sot Katey by {\u) lire, hjokin' as bloomin' as a rose, and us chipjier as a canary bird; — the (act is, 1 was so unconnnon ((dd, and sc sleepy too, the ni<^ht afore, that i thought every body aiu' every thini^ looked cold and dismal toe. Mornin', sir, said she, as I enterj-d the Ueepin' room ; mornin' to you, .Mr. Slick, how did you sleep last ni^ht I I'm mo.^t aleard you lound that are room dreadful cold, ll)r little IJiiiey opened the window at the head of the bed to make the (ire draw and start the smoke up, and forgot to shut it a^ain, and I ;i^uess it was uide f)pen allniij;ht; — I minded it arter I Lfot to IkmI, and I tboujirht 1 should ha' died a larlin'. Thank you, said I, l<)r that; but you forget you conn^ and shot it yourself, ^h• ! said site; I never did no such a thin;^. (jitch me indeed agoin into a gentleman's chamber; no, indeed, not for the world I If I wasn't cold, said I, it's a pity, — that's all ; 1 was 'een u'most frozen as stilf as a i)oker, and near about frightened to death too, for I se<'d you or your ghost last nij^ht, as plain as 1 seo you now ; that's a lact. A r turnin' first into an ic cicle, and then info a snow-«lrill, she haw-hawed riizhl out. i thouro sehold the dignity of the law. I recollect once that some of o:ir young citizens away above Montgomery got into a (lareup with a party of boatmen that lives o!i the Mississij)pi ; a desperate row it was, too, and thre*^ of the Kentuckians were killed as dead as herrins'. Well, they were had \\\ for it afore Judge Cotton. He was one of our revolutioncry horcK?s, a starn, hard-leatured old man, quite a Cato — and he did curry 'em down with a heavy hand, you may depend ;— he had no marcy on 'cm. There he sot with his hat on, a cigar in his mouth, his arms folded, and his feet over tho rail, lookin' as sour as an onripc lemon. Bring up them cul- prits, said he, and when they were brought up he told 'em It was scandalous, and only fit for English and ignorant foreigners that sit on the outer porch of darkness, and not high-minded mtcUigent Americans. Y'ou are a disgrace, said THB TALISMAir. 81 great he, to our great nation, and I liope I shall never hear the like of it ag*in. If I do, I'll put you on trial as sure as you are Dorn, I hope I may bo skinned alive hy \\\U\ cjits, il" 1 ddu'i. VVoll, tiiey didn't like this kind o' talk at all, so that ni^hl away thc^y goes to the judge's house to teach him a thinu; or two, with a cowskin, and kicked up a deuce of a row ; and what do you think the neiij;hbours did I VVhy, they gist walked in, seized the ringleaders and lynched them in less than ten miuits, on one ol" the linden trees afore the jwdge's door. They said the laiv must he rindi rated — and that courts must he upheld hy all (jiiict, orderly people, l(»r a terror to evil-doers. The law juiist take its coiu'se. No, fhiidvs 1, ho can't he a Yankee; — if he was, and had awanted the article, he would ha' don(» him out of it, p'r'aps in a trade, hein' too cxpeiienced a man of business for him ; but steal it, never, never — I don't believe if, 1 vow. Well, 1 walked info the court-house, and there was a great crowd of folks there, a jabbcrin' and a talkin' away like any thing (for blue nose netuln't turn his back on any one; for talkin' — the eritfer is all tongue, like an f)!d horse) — presently in cs, when you baa nothin' to do. Then eunie in one or two old lawyers, and sot down and nodded here and there, to some o' the upper-crust folks o' the county, and fhi'U shook hands aina/in' hearty with the young lawyers, and the young lawyers lardd, and the old ones larfed, and they all nodded their heads together like a ock of geese agoii:' thro' a gate. Presently the sherilf calls out at th(^ tip end of his voice, "Clear the way for the judge;" — and the judge walks up to the bench, lookin' down to his feet to sec he didn'' tread on ether folks' ax?s, and j)Ut his ar»n behind his back, and twirls the tail o'" his uown over it so, that other (oiks mightn't trean on his'n. Well, when he gets to the bench, he stands tip as straight as a lilx^rty pole, and the lawyers all stand upstraiuht too, and clap their eyes on his till he winks, and then both on Vn slowly bend their bodies forward till they nearly touch % 82 THB CLOCKMAKER. ■^ 'I' tliR tnl>les with tijcir nosos, and ihon thny sot down, ai d tha \\u\''{i took a look all round, as if ho saw ovorv thinii i'> il'ne* ral and nothin' in partikilar — I never seed anything so (jueer alI»ro, 1 vow. It puts mc in mind o' tlio Chinese, but they bcb their foreheads clean away dou ti to ijje very floor. Well, then, said the cri(M', "Oh yes! Oh yes! Ilis Majes* ty's (I mean her Majesty's) court is now oprMied. God save tlie Kini>; (I mean the (iueen.)" Oh! if Colics didn't larf it's n pity — for I've otten ohsarved it takes hut a very small joke to makea crowd larl". 'rh<'\'ll iarl'at nothin' amost. Sih'ncc, said th(! slu'rid", and all was as still as moonlight. It looked strange to me, ynu may depend, for tlio la'\\ers looked like so many ministers all dressed in black gowns and white bands on, only they acted more like players than preachers, a plaguy sight. Hut, said I, is not this the case in yo'ir country; is tluM'c not some sort ol'proHssinual garb worn by the bar of the United States, and do not the barristers and tin? court exchange those salutations which tlu^ conuiion courtiNsies of life not only sanction but in)[)eratively requin; as essential to the pres(;rva- tion of mutual respect and general good breeding? What on airlh, said the Clockmaker, can a black gound have to do with mtelligence ? Them sort of live»*ies may do in JOuro])e, hut th(!y don't convene to our free and enlighfened citizens, it's too foreign for us, too unphilosopbical, too iJjudal, and a r(e ; Tvo no occasion to sit; and besides, ] jruess, I must be a nioviii.' Walk in tho box, sir, «;aid he, and he roared lik(^ thunder. And, says tho j'idi;;e, a 'ookin U|), and sniiliu' and spcakin' as soil as if butter wouldn't nncit in his nunith, you ini/st walk iti tin? box, sir. ^V^•II, says 1, to obliji(.' you, says I, my lord, 1 will; but there don't seem much room in it to walk, i vow. You are called up(»n, sir, says the jud;j[e, as n talisman ; take \our seat in the box, and be silent. ir 1 must, says I, I do suppose I must ; but I don't like the ollice, and 1 ilon't believe I've got a marker about me; but if you've are a [,iece ofchalk about you, or could give m(! or lend me an old jx-ncil, Til try to cipher it as well as I can, and do my possibles to give you satisfaction, my lord. W'hr.t are you atalkin' about, sir? said he — what do you mean by such nonsense ' Why, says I, my lonl, I've been toVI ihfit in this country, and indeed 1 know it is the jyractice almost nil over ourn for tlu; jury to chull,-, that is, rvery man chalks down on th(,' wall his vot<"; one man ti-n pounds, one- twenty, another thirty, and another five pounds, and so; and then they add them all u(), and divide by twelve, and that makes the vardict. Now if I'm to be tahjaman says [, and keep count, I'll chalk if as straight ;i a boot-ja(dv. Th(» judge throwed himseirbaok in his (hair, and turning to the sherilf, says he, is it possible, Mr. Sheriii', that such an abominable |»ractice as this exists in this country ? or that people, under the solemn obligation of an oath, can conduct themselves with so much levitv as to mak(> their verdict depc^nd upon chance, and not upon reason? If 1 was to know an instance of the kind, said he, — and he looked battle, murder, and sudden death — I'd both fine and inj|)rison the jury — 1 would, by (and he gave the corner of his mouth a twist just in time t(i keep in an oath that waa on the tip of his tongue,) and he hesitated a litth; to thiid< how to get out of the scrape — at least I consiiifcMl so — by and with he lull consent of my bretbicn on the bencdj. 1 have my suspicions, said the Clockmaker, that ihe judge nad heerd tell of that prac/icc afore, an(> was only waitin' foi a complaint to ta)ce notice of it regilar-like, for them old judges are as cunnm' as foxes ; and if he had, I must say he did do 84 THE CLOCKMAKKR. I f f K: ''9 i M ' 1 .*^ ' ^'ilL ,ii 1- ihe surprise very well, for he looked ail struck up of a heap, like a vessel taken aback with a s'^uall, agoin' down starn foremost. Who is that man ? said ho. I am a clockmakor, sir, said I. I didn't ask you what you were, sir, says ho, acolorin' U|), I asked you who you were. I'm Mr. Samuel Slick of Slick* ville, sir, says l,a clnckmaker from Onion County, Slate of Connecticut, in the United States of America. You are exempt, said hv — you may walk out of the box. Thinks I to myself, old chap, next tin>o yon want a talisman take one of your own folks, will you ? VVell, when 1 'ookcd up to the prisoner, sure enough I seed he was one of our citizens, one "Kxpectcd Thorne," of our town, an endless villain, that had been two or three times in the Suite's prison. The case was a very plain one. Captain Billy Slocum produced a watch, which ho said was his'n ; lie said he went our arter dinner, leavin' his watch ahangin' up over the mantle piece, and when he returned to tea it was gone, and that it was found in Expected Thome's j)ossession. Long before the evidence was gone through, I seed he was guilty, the villain. There is a sort of freemasonry in hippocrasy, squire, you may depend. It has its signs and looks by which the brotherhood know each other; and us charity hopeth all things, and forgiveth all things, these appeals of the elect of each other from the lowest depths of woo, whether conveyed by the eye, the garb, or the tongue, are seldom made in vain. Expected had seed too much of the world, I estimate, not to know that. If he hadn't his go-to-meetin' dress and looks on this da) to do the jury, it's a pity. He had his hair combed down as straight as a horse's mane ; a little thin white cravat, nicely plaited and tied plain, garnished his neck, as a white towel does a dish of calves' head — a stanti' ' up collar to his coat gave it the true cut, and the gilt buttons covered with cloth eschewed the gaudy ornaments of sinful, carnal man. He looked as demure as a harlot at a christenin' — drew down the corners of his mouth, so ar .o contract tlie trumpet of his nose, and give the right base twang to the voice, and turned up the whiles of his eyes, as if he had been in the habit oi iookin' in upon tho inner man for self-examination and reproach. Oh, he looked like a martyr; gist like a iiian who would sutler death for conscience sake, and forgive liis enemies with his dyin' breath. Gentlemen of the jury, says Expected, I am a stranger and THE TALISMAN. 85 a heap, [1 starn iWy said rin' u|>, r «lick. Slate of i;xcin|)t« myself, )ur own ler, sure Ix peeled ecn two i a very /hich ho IV ill' his hen he ix peeled as gone 1 sort of II has )vv eaeli veth all e lowest I, or the ;, not to looks on combed cravat, a white ir to his fed with lal man. |w down ?t of his turned labit ol »n and lian who enemies Iger and a sojourner in this land, but I have many friends and receive much kindness, thanks be to divine Providence for all his goodness to me a sinner; and I don't make no doubt that iho* I t'C a stranger, his lordship's honor will, under Providence, 8et! justice done to me. The last lime I was to Captain IJilly's house 1 sfied his watch, and that it was out of order, and I otlered to clean it and repair it for him for nolhin', Irce gratis, that I can't prove. But I'll tell you what I can provCj and it's a privilege lor which 1 desire to render thanks; Ilia when that gentleman, the constable, came to me, and said h came about the watch, 1 said to him, ri^ht out at once, " She's cleaned, says I, but wants regulntin'; if ('aptain Billy is in a hurry for her he can have her, but he had better leave her two or three days to gel the right beat." And never did I d(my bavin' it as a guilty man would have done. And, my lord, said he, and gentlemen of the jury (and he turned up his ugly cantin' mug full round to the box) — I trust I know too well the awful account 1 must one day give of the deeds done in the flesh to peril my immortal soul for vain, idle, sinful toys; and he held up his hands together, and looked upwards till his eyes turned in like them are ones in a marble statue, and his lips kept amovin' some lime as if he was lost in inward f)rayer. Well, the constable proved it word for word, and the judge said it did appear that there was some mistake ; at all events, it did not appear there was evidence of a felonious tukin', and he was acquitted. As soon as it was over. Expected comes to me in the corner, and, says he, quite bold like, Mornin', yiick, how do you do? And then whisperin' in my ear, says lie. Didn't I do 'em prett\ ? cuss 'em — that's all. Let old Connecticut alone yet — she's loo much for any on 'em, I know. The truth is, the moment I seed that cussed critter, tbat constable acomin', I seed his arrand with half an eye, and had that are story ready-tongued and grooved for him, as quirk as wink. Says I, I wish they had ahanged you, with ull my heart ; it's such critters as you that lower the national, elianicter of our free and enlightened citizens, and (irgradc; u in the eves of foreiiiners. Th«; eves of forciiiners be d d ! said he. Who cares what they think ? — and as for these blue noses, they ain't able to think. They ain't got two ideas to bless themselves with, — the stupid, punkin-headed, concailed blockheads ! — cuss me if they have. Well, says I, they ain't such an enlightened people as we arc, that's sartain, but that la 96 THE CLOCKMAKUR. don't justify you a bit ; you hadn't ouj^ht to have stolen that watch. That was wroiiij, very wrong indeed. You might have traded with him, and got it for half nothin'; or bought it and lailed, as some of our importin' marchants sew up tho Boll-horncd llritish ; or swapped it and ibrgot to give tho ex- change ; or b()U[rht it and giv(; your note, and cut stick alhre the nofc came dut;. There's u thousand ways of doin' it h'Hiostly and legally, v.'ithout resortin', as loreigncrs do, to siealin'. VV^e are a moral pijopie, — a religious, a high-minded and a high-spirited people; and can do any, and all the na- tions of the univarsal world, out of any thing, in lh(.' hundred of millions of (tlever shifts there are in trade; but' as for stealin', I despise it ; it's a low, blackguard, dirty, mean ac- tion ; and 1 must say you're a disgrace to our great nation. An American citizen necer steals, he only gains the advan- tage / CHAPTER XI. w III. ..I ITALIAiN PAINTINGS. The next morning we resumed our journey, and travelling through the township of Clements, and crossing Moose and Bear rivers, reached Digby early in the allernoon. !t was a most delightful drive. When we left Annapolis, the fog was slowly rising from the low grounds and resting on the hills, to gather itself up for a flight info upj)er air, disclosing, as it departed, ridge allcr ridgti of the Granville Mountain, which lay concealed in its folds, and gradually revealing the broad and beautiful basin that extends from the town to Digby. I am too old now lor romance, and, what is worse, I am corpulent. I find, as I grow stout, I grow less imaginative. One cannot serve two masters. 1 Ionised to climb the moun- tain-peak, to stand where C'hamplain stood, and imagine thf scene as it then was, when his pro])hetic eye caught revela- tions of the future; to vi^it the holy well where the rite of baptism was first performed in tl)(\«;e provinces ; to trace the first encampments, — the ruins of the rude fortifications, — the first battloground. But, alas ! the day is gone. 1 must leave the field to more youthful competitors. I can gratify my eye as I drive along the road, but I must not "cnture into the lor- «st. The natural ice-house, — the cascade, — the mountain ITALIAN PAIIfTlNGS. 87 cn thai i \wj,\\\ ' bought V up iho tiic ex- ck afore doin' il s do, to -mintlfid I tlic na- It* as tor mean ac- it nation. ic advan- travelling ^loose and It was a K! fog was the hills, sing, as it ain, which the broad )igby. orsc, I am nairi native, the nioun- T»agin(,' thf ht rcvola- thc rite oi > trace the tions,— the must leave ify my eye ito the lor- mountain lake, — the bonvor*s dam, — the General's bridge, — the npoery- ))bal Ilosignol, — tlje iron-mines, — and last, imt lra>t, tlu' In- dian anti(juilies, — in .short, each and all of tin* lions t)f this interesting plaee, that rccjuire bodily exertion to bsed the Court House, the scene of Mr. Slick's adventures tb<' pre- ceding day, and found a crowd of country people about tbo door. More than a hundred horses wer(» tied to flie fer., on eith(>r side ol* the road, and groups of idlers were seen scat- tered about on the lawn, eiJier discussing tlu; last verdict, or anticipating the jury in tlu^ next. I think, said Mr. .Slick, we have a right to b(»asl of the jus- ticiary of our two great nations; for yourn is a great nation, — that is a fact ; and if all your colonies were joine it ; and /, a chap ic dodgn. I'll courts illes, and aped and ve I must ik it was, stmlio to IS !)usy »s )1(1 Snow, ribic of a here ain't Vm alive! vc cau}flit Ip for it as [1, how do j pleasure lave taken ,^ — I can't you see, is ie. Don't you ; — the is no help le, vou are s?" Why, I the great b of apple in pies on d to repre- :*rika ; and Well, sayM II them let- 3 now they fi(T>jr', says right hand, little rifles, are angels cmigrafin' from heaven to this country. II and B means heavinly emigrants. Us alle — go — ry. — And a Ijoautiftil alle — ffo — ry it i«, said he, and well calculated to give foreigners a correct notion of our young growin' and great Republic. It is a fme conception that. It is worthy of VVest. How true to life — how much it conveys — how nmny chords it strikes. It addresses the heart — it's splendid. Hallo! says I to nriyself, what's all this? It made me look up at him. Thinks I to myself, you laid that soil sawder on pretty thick anyhow. I wonder whether you are in rael right down airnest, or whether you are only arter a vote. Says he, Mr. Sli<'k, it was on the subject of pietur's, we called. It's a tiling I'm enthusiastic upon mys<>lf; but my otlicial duties leave mo no time to fraternise with the brush. I've be«!n nctilly six weeks adoin' of a bum h of grapes on a ehair, and it's not yet dcjue. The department of paintin' in our Athts neum, — in this risin' and llourishin' tad got into a bathin' room among the men by mistake. Her narves received a heavy shock, poor critter; she said she never would Ibrgel what she seed th^re the long- est (lav she lived. So none o' your Potinhar's wives, or Su- Baniuihs, or sleepin' Venuses ; such pictur's arc repugnant to the high tone o' moral feelin' in this country. Oh Lord! I thought I should have split; 1 darsn't look up, (or fear I should abu»t out a larfiu' in his lace, to hear him '^ / Hiotograidiic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (7)6) 872-4503 ^\ iV ^ •^ <\ ^.v ^ >J^ w ^ ^\ o ** «* ^ m i sawdtT, don't he? I think 1 see him astandin' with his hands in his trousers-pockets, a look in' as big as all out-doors, and as sour as cider sot out in the sun l(>r vinegar. At first he looks suspicious and sulky, and then one hauty frown relaxes, and then another, and so on, till all starnness is gone, and his whole lace wears one great benev- olent expression, like a full moon, till you can eye him with- out winkin', and lookin' about as intelligent all tlie time as a skim-milk cheese. Arter his stare is gone, a kind o' look comes over his face as if he thought, Well, now, this d d Yankey sees his error at last, and no mistake ; that comes o' that good lickin' 1 give him last war : there's nothin' like fightin' things out. The critter seems humble enough now tho' ; give me your fist, Jonathan, my boy, says he ; don't look so cussed dismal : what is it ? Oh, nothin', says our diplomatist ; a mere trifle, and ho tries to look as onconcarned as possible all the time ; nothm' but what your sense of justice, lor which you are always dis- tinguished, will grant ; a little strip of land, half fog half bog, atween the State of Maine and New Brunswick ; it's nothm' but wood, water, and snakes, and no bigger than Scotland Take it, and say no more about it, says John ; I hope it will be accepted as a proof of my regard. I don't think nothin' of half a colony. And then when our chap gets home to the President, doesn't he say, as Expected Thorne did of the Blue- nose jury, " Didn't I do him prettij ? cuss him, that's all.^'' Then he takes Mount-Sheer on another tack. He desires to express the gratitude of a free and enlightened people to the French, — their first ally, their dearest friend, — for ena- blin' them under Providence, to lay the foundation-stone of their country. They never can forget how kindly, how dia 96 THE CLOCKMAKER. intarestedli/, thoy slept in to aid their infant struggles, — ta assist thoin to resist the uniiHtiiral tyranny of England, who vvliilo allectin' to protect liberty abroad, was cnslavin' her eiiildren to iiome. Nothin' hut the purest ieelin', unalloyed by any jealousy of England, dictated that step ; it emanated from u virtuous indignation at seein' the strong oppress the weak, — I'roni a love of constitutional freedom, — from pure philanthropy. Mow deeply is seated in American breasts a veneration of the French character ! how they admire their sincerity ; their good faith ; their stability I Well may they be called the Grand Nation ! Religious, not bigoted; brave, not rash; dignified, not volatile; great, yet not vain! Mag- nanimous in success, — cheerlul and resolved under reverses, — they form the beau ideal to American youth, who are taught in their first lessons, to emulate, and imitate, and vene- rate the virtues of their character I Don't it run oiV the tongue like oil ? Soft and slick, ain't it pretty talk ? Lord ! how Mount-Sheer skips, and hops, and bows, and smirks, when he hears that are, don't he? How he claps his hand upon his l.eart, and makes laces like a monkey that's got a pain in his side from swallowin' a nut without crackin* it. With all other folks, but these great powers, it's a very different tune they sing. They make short metre with them little powers ; they never take the trouble to talk much ; they gist make their demands, and ax them for their answer, right olf the reel. If they say, let us hear your reasons, — Oh, by all means, says our diplomatist, just come along with me ; and he takes the minister under his arm, walks lock and lock with him down to the harbour, claps him aboard a barge, and rows him off to one of our little hundred-gun sloops of war. Pretty little sloop o' war, that of ourn, I reckon, ain't it ? says be Oh 1 very pretty, very pretty indeed, says foreigner ; but if that be your little sloop, what must be your great big men o* war ? That's just what I was agoin' for to say, says Jona- than, — a Leviathan, a Mammoth, blow all creation to atoms a'most, like a hurricane tipt with lightning, and then he looks up to the captain and nods. Says he, Captain, I guess you may run out your guns, and he runs them out as quick as wink. These are my reasons, says Jonathan, and pretty strong arguments, too, I guess ; that's what I call showin' our teeth ; and now you, mister, with a d n hard name, your answer, if you please. You don't understand us, I see, for* Tglcs,--ta und, who iavin' her unalloyed emanated pprcss the i'om pure breasts a miro their may they ;d ; brave, n ! Mag- ' reverses, who are and vene- jn oil* the ? bows, and B claps his ikey that's ut crackin' it's a very with them luch; they swer, right -Oh, by ;h me ; and d lock with ), and rows ar. Pretty ? says be ler; but if big men o' savs Jona- to atoms Dn he looks guess you 5 quick as and pretty ho win' our name, your , I see, for* 1 SHAMPOOING THE ENGLISH. ff ngner; wtj gvit chops in our country that can stand on one side of the Mississippi, and kill a racoon on t'other side with a sneeze, — rigular ring-tail roarers ; dun't provoke us ; it wouldn't be over safe, 1 assure you. We can out talk thun- der, outrun a flash of lighfuin', and outreach all the world — we can whip our weight of wild-cats. The I^rilish can lick all the world, and we can lick the British. I believe, I believe, says he, and he claps his name to the treaty in no tinxN VN'e made these second-class gentry shell out a considerable of cash, these few years past, on one excuse or anolhur, and frightened some on them, as the naked statue did the factory ?all, into fits a'most. But the English we have to soil saw- Jer, for they've got little sloops o' war, too, as well as we ^ave; and not only show their teeth, but Mte like bull-dogs. We shampoo them, — you know what shampooing is, squire, don't you? It is an Eastern custom, I think, said I : I have heard of it, but I do not retain a very distinct recollection of the practice. Well, said the Clockmaker, I estimate I ought to know what it means any how ; for I came plaguy nigh losin' my life by it once. When I was gist twenty years old, I took it into my head I'd like to go to sea, — so father got me a berth of supercargo of a whaler at New Bedford, and away we went arter s^>crm : an amazin' long voyage we had of it too — gone nearly three years. VVell, we put into Sandwich Island for refreshments ; and says the captain, 'Spose we go and call on the queen ! So all us cabin party went and dressed ourselves up full fig, and were introduced in due form to the young queen. Well, she was a rael, right down, pretty lookin' heifer, and no mistake ; well dressed and well demean- ed, and a plaguy sight clear^ skin'd than some white folks — for they bathe every day a\ i-i. Where you'd see one piece of furniture better than her, you'll see fifty worser ones, 1 know. What is your father, Mr. Shleek? says she. A prince, marm, said I. And his'n, ugly man's? says she pintin' to the captain. A prince too, said I, and all this party are princes ; fathers all sovereigns to home — no bigger men than them, neither there nor any where else in the univarsal world. Then, said she, you all dine wid me to-day ; me proud to have de prinches to my table. If she didn't give us a rigular blow-out, it's a pity, and the whole on us weie more than half-seas over ; for my part, the titj m -;;ai ■M 98 THE CLOCKMAKER. not mullcMl wirio artilly rnaOo nio feci llkr a prince, and wnal put inc in ti|)-t(t|) spirits was the idee of th(! lioax 1 played oft' on her about our hi in' j)riiu;cs; and tlien my rosy cliecks and youth |ih'as('(l lirr I'ancy, so that slic was onronuiion civil to mc; — talUcd to no one else a'niost. Well, when we rose from tahic, (for slic stayed ihcrc till ijio \viiH> niado her oyes twinkle ajjj'in,) prince Shicck, said sIk^ atakin' o' my hand, and pnt- lin' Ix'r saucy litth; mujjj clos(! \\\) to me, (and she racily did look pr(!tty,all smiles and sweetness,) Prince Shieek, will yo» have one shamj)oo .' said she. A shampoo .' said 1 ; to he suro 1 will, and thank you too; yon an; ixist the jj;all I'd like to shampoo, and I elapt my arms round her neck, and gave her u huss that made all rinij; aj^'in. What the devil are you at? (jaid the cajitain, and hv seized me round the waist and lugged me oil". Do you want to lose your head, you Ibol, you? said he; you've carried rhis joke too far already, without this rcn)j)in' — go aboard. It was lucky lor me she had a wee drop in her eye, herself — for arter the lirst scream, she huTed ready to s|)lit: says she. No kissy, no kissy — shami)oo is shampoo; but kissy is anoder ting. The noise brouii;ht the sarvants in, and says the queen, p'inting to me, " shampoo him" — and they up with me, and into another room, and before I could say Jaek Robinson, olf went my clothes, and I was gettiii' shampoo'd in airnest. It is done by a gentle pressure, and rubbin' all over the hody with the hand ; it is delightful— that's a fact, and I was soon asloc^p. « I was pretty well corned that arternonn, hut still I knew what I was about; and recolk^cted when I awoke the whisper of the captain at partin' — " Mind your eye, Slick, if ever you want to see Cape Cod ag'in." So, airly next mornin', while it was quite moony yet, I went aboard, and the captain soon put to sea, but not before there came a boat-load of pigs and two buLocks oil* to " Prince Shieck." So our diplomatists Bhnmpoo the Enirlish, and put 'em to sleep. How beautiful they shampoo'd them in the fishery story ! It was agreed we was to fish within three leagues of the coast; but then, sayg Jonathan, wood and water, you know, and shelter, when it blows like great gufjs, are rights of hospitality. You wouldn't refuse us a port in a storm, would you ? so noble, so humane, 80 liberal, so confidin' as you be. Certainly not, says John Bull ; it would be inhuman to refuse either shelter, wood, or wrter. Well then, if there was are a snug little cove not set« and wnat )luy('d ofV jccks and m civil to roso from ■f>s twinkle , and piit- rnclly did V, will yon to ho sum W like to f!;nve hor c you at ? md lugged you ? said ithout this a wco drop irfod ready shampoo ; arvants in, lim" — and ore I could ivus gettin' ^ssure, and lelightful-- till I knew he whisper if ever you rnin', while iptain soon •f pigs and liplomatistg w beautiful 1 agreed we then, says er, when it )u wouldn't 30 humane, , says John r, wood, or Dve not set- IHAMPOOINO THE ANGLISII. 00 rs, and as many judges of all sorts and 'lizes as ^ailors in ir navy. Put all these expenses together, of state governmciu and general government, and see what an awful sum it comes to, and then tell me it's a cheap government. True, said I, hut you have not that enor- mous item of expenditure known in England under the name of half pay. We have more officers of the navy on half pay than you have in your navy altogether. So much the better for you, says he, for ourn are all on full pay, and when they ftin't employed, we set them down as absent on leave. Which costs the most do you suppose ? That comes of not callin' things by their right names, you see. Our folks know this, but our popularity-seekin' patriots have all their own interest in multiplyir g these offices ; yes, our folks have put PUTTING A FOOT IN IT. 103- sation, 1 was cer* practised in some was cer- aid he, happens y availed 3st costly We are IS spread 3ry core. nake that •s are not in, wholly and most I keep ono 3 keep ten do-nothin' ) many of 3nt states, wenty-five five trea- epresenta- lators are , for they ve have as gcs of all e expenses iment, and me it's a that enor- ' the name n half pay 1 the better when they on leave, mes of not folks know their own :s have put theif f30t in it, that's a fact. Thev clint the galls alone for an excuse ; I see how the cat jumps. Well, says T, Lucy, you are about the luckiest gall I ever seed. Possible, says she; — how's that? Why, says I, many 's the gall I've knoM n that's lost her way with a sweetheart albre now, and got on the wrong track ; but you're the first one ever I seed that got put on the right way by one, any how. Wei., she larr(!d, and says she, you men always su&])ect evil ; it shows how bad you must be your- 104 THE CLOCKMAKER. ^W:'.' m selves. Perhaps it may be so, says I, but mind your eye» and take care you don't put your foot in it. She looked at me the matter of a minnit or so without sayiri' p, word, and then burst out acryin'. She suitl, if she had .such an awful big foot, it warn't her fault, and it was very onkind to larf at it to her face — that way. Well, I felt proper sorry too, you may depend, for I vow she was so oncommon handsom' I had ne\er noticed that big foot of hern till then. I had hardly got her pacified when in come Jack, with two halves of a bear, and threw 'em down on the floor, and larfcd ready to kill him< self. I never seed the beat o' that, said he, since I was raised from a seedlin'. I never see a feller so taken in all my life— that's a fact. Why, says I, what is it ? It was some time afore he could speak ag'in for larfin' — for Jack was consider- able m the wind, pretty nearly half shaved. At last, says he, you know my failin', Mr. Slick ; I like a drop of grog better than it likes me. Well, when the last rain came, and the brook was pretty considerable full, I kag'd for a month, (that is, said the Clockmaker, he had taken an oath to abstain from drawing liquor from the keg — they calls it kaggin',) and my kag was out to-day at twelve o'clock. Well, I had just got a log on the ways when the sun was on the twelve o'clock line, so I stops the mill and takes out my dinner, and sets it down on the log, and then runs up to the house to draw off a bottle of rum. When I returned, and was just about to enter the mill, what should I see but that are bear a sittin' on the pine stick in the mill aetin' of my dinner, so I gist backs out, takes a good swig out of the bottle, and lays it down to run off homo for the gun, when, says I to myself, says I, he'll make a plaguy sight shorter work of that are dinner than I would, and when he's done he'll not wait to wipe his mouth with the towel neither. May be he'll be gone afore I gets back, so I gist crawls under the mill — pokes up a stick through the j'ice and starts the plug, and sets the mill agoin'. Well the motion was so easy, and he was so busy, he never moves, and arter a little the saw just gives him a scratch on tne back ; well, he growls and shoves forward abit on his rump ; presently it gives him another scratch, with that he wheels short round and lays right hold of it, and j^ives it a most devil of a hug with his paws, and afore he knowed what he was about it pinned him down and sawed him right in two, he squelin' and kickin^ and singin' out like a good feller the whole blessed time. Thinks I, he put his foot in it that feller, any how. •:ii PUTTINO A FOOT IN IT. 10ft 6) and me the d then ful big ut it to ►u may I had dly got a bear, ill him } raised y life— le time )nsider- lays he, y better and the h, (that lin from and my ist got a )ck line, it down a bottle nter the the pine ut, takes )fF homo make a I would, with the ick, so I the j'ice e motion nd arter well, he sently it irt round Df a hug about it el in' and blessed how. "Yes, out folks have puf their foot in it ; a cheap article am'l always the best ; if you want a rael right down first chop, genuwine thing, you must pay for it. Talent and integrity ain't such common things any where, that they arc to be had for half nothin'. A man tliat has them two tJiiu.^s can go a-hcad any where, and if you want him to give up his own consarns to see arter those of the public, and don't give him the fair market price for 'em, he is i)laguy apt to put his in- tegrity in his pocket, and put his talents to usury. What he loses one way he makes up another: if he can't get it out of his pay, he takes it out of parquesits, jobs, patronage, or somethin' or another. Folks won't sarve the public for nothin* no more than they will each other free-gratis. An honest man won't take olTice, if it won't support him properly, but a dis- honest one will, 'cause he won't stand about trifles, but goes the whole figur' — and where you have a good many critters, as public sarvants — why, a little slip of the pen or trip of the foot, ain't thought nothin' of, and the tone of public feelin' is lowered, till at last folks judge of a man's dishonesty by the *cuteness of it. If the slight-o-hand ain't well done, they say, when he is detected, he is a fool — cuss him, it sarves him right ; but if it is done so slick that you can hardly see it even when it's done afore your eyes, people say, a fine bold stroke that — splendid business talent, that man — considerable powers — a risin' character— eend by bein' a great man in the long run. You recollect the story of the quaker and his insurance, don't you ? He had a vessel to sea that he hadn't hecrd of for a considerable time, and he was most plaguyly afeerd she had gone for it ; so he sent an order to his broker to insure her. Well, next day he larnt for sartain that she was lost, so what does he do but writes to his broker as if he niieant to save the premium by rccallin' the order : If thee hast not in- jured, thee need'st not do it, esteemed friend, for I have heerd of the vessel. The broker, thinkin' it would be all clear gain, falls right into the trap ; tells him his letter came too late, for he had effected the insurance half an hour afore it arrived. Verily, I am sorry for thee, friend, said the quaker, if that be the case, for a heavy loss will fall on thee ; of a sartainty I have heerd of the vessel, but she is lost. Now that was what I call handsom' ; it showed great talents that, and a know ledge of human natur' and soft sawder. !-..;.;| 100 THE CLOCKMAKBR. l/'^m^lj m I thought, said I, that your annual parliaments, universal suflVage, and system of rotation of olTice, had a tendency to prevent corruption, by reinoving the means and the opportu- nity to any extent. Well, it would, perhaps, to a certain point, said the Clockmaker, if you knew where that point was, and could stop there ; but wherever it is, 1 am afeerd we have passed it. Annual parliaments bring in so many raw liands every year, that they are gist like pawns in the gamo of chess, only fit for tools to move about and count while the game is played by the bigger ones. They get so puzzled— the* critters, with the forms o' the house, that they put me in mind of a feller standin' up for the first time in a quadrille. One tells him to cross over here, and afore he gets there an- other calls him back ag'in ; one pushes him to the right and another to the left , he runs ag'in every body, and every body runs ag'in him ; he 'cads on the heels of the galls and takes their skin and their buoes off, and they tread on his toes, and return the compliment to his corns; he is no good in natur', except to bother folks and put them out. The old hands that have been there afore, and cut their eye-teeth, know how to bam these critters, and make 'em believe the moon is made of green cheese. That gives great power to the master movers, and they are enabled to spikelate handsum in land stock, bank stock, or any other corporate stock, for they can raise or depress the article gist as they please by legislative action. There was a grand legislative speck made not long since, called the preemj)tion speck. A law was passed, that all who had settled on government lands without title, should have a right of preemption at a very reduced price, below common upset sum, if application was made on a particular day. The jobbers watched the law very sharp, and the mo- ment it passed, off they sot with their gangs of men and a magistrate, camped out all night on the wild land, made the affidavits of settlement, and run on till they went over a'most — a deuce of a tract of country, that was all picked out afore* hand for them ; then returned their affidavits to the oflice, got the land at preemption rate, and turned right round and sold it at market price — pocketed the difference — and netted a most handsum thing by the spec. Them pet banks was another splendid affair ; it deluged the fand with corruption that, — it was too ^ad to think on. When •♦ PCTTIWO A rOOT I If IT. 107 niversal Icncy to )pportu- certain at point feerd we any raw he gamo vhile the uzzled— lut me in quadrille, here an- •io;ht and rery body and takes toes, and in natur', lands that )W how to 1 is made le master n in land : they can lesislative ong since, d, that all le, should ice, below particular d the mo- Inen and a , made the )ver a'most \ out afore- - office, got d and sold jtted a most 1 delu2;ed the When on. the government is in the many, as with us, and rotation of office is the order of the day, there is a nateral tendency to multiply offices, so that every one can get iiis share of 'em, and it increases c.xjx'nses, bicccli oliico-siecikors, and corrupts the whole mass. It is in politics as in farmin', — one large farm is worked at much less expense and much greater prolit, and 's better in many ways than half a dozen small ones ; and the head farmer is a more 'sponsible man, and better to do in the world, and has more influence than the small fry. Things are belter done too on his farm — the tools are better, the teams are better, and the crops arc better: it's better alto, gether. Our first-rate men ain't in politics with us. It don't pay 'em, and they won't go thro' the mill for it. Our princi- ple is to consider all jjublic men rogues, and to watch 'em well that they keep straight. Well, I ain't gist altogether certified that this don't help to make 'em rogues ; where there is no conjidence, there can be no honesty ; locks and keys are good things, but if you can't never trust a sarvant with a key, he don't think the better of his master for all his susjncions, and Is plaguy apt to get a key of his own. Then they do get Buch a drill thro' the press, that no man who thinks any great shakes of himself can stand it. A feller must have a hide as thick as a bull's to bear all the lashing our public men get the whole blessed time, and if he can bear it without wmkin', it's more perhaps than his family can. There's nolhin' in office that's worth it. So our best men ain't in office — they can't submit to it. I knew a judge of the state court of New York, a first chop man too, give it up, and take the office of clerk in the identi- cal same court- lie said he couldn't afford to be a judge ; it was only them who couldn't make a livin' by their practice that it would suit. No, squire, it would be a long story to go through the whole thing ; but we ain't the cheapest govern- ment in the world — that's a fact. When you come to visit us and go deep into the matter, and see giiieral government and state government, and local taxes and gincral taxes, although the items are small, the sum total is a'most a swin<;in' larfje one, I tell you. You take a shop account and read it over. Well, the thing appears reasonable enough, and cheap enough; but if you have been arunnin' in and out pretty often, and goin' the whole figur', add it up to the bottom, and if it don't make you stare and look corner ways, it's a pity. 108 THE CLOCKMAKER. :' t, What made me fiiat of all think o* these things, was seeln how they got on in the colonies ; why, the critters don't pay no taxes at all a'most — they actilly don*t desarve the namo o' taxes. They don't know how well they're off, that's sai- tain. I mind when I used to be agrumblin' to home when I was a boy about knee-high to a goose or so, father used to say Sam, if you want to know how to valy home, you should go abroad for a while among strangers. It ain't all gold that glitters, my boy. You'd soon find out what a nice home you've got ; for mind what I tell you, home is home, however homely — that's a fact. These blue-noses ought to be gist sent away from home a little while ; if they were, when they re- turned, I guess, they'd larn how to valy their location. It's a lawful colony this, — things do go on rig'lar, — a feller can rely on law here to defend his property, he needn't do as I seed a squatter to Ohio do once. I had slept at his house one day to bait my horse ; and in the course of conversation about mat- ters and things in ginGral,'says I, What's your title? is it from government, or purchased from settlers? — I'll tell you, Mr. Slick, he says, what my title is, — and he went in and took his rifle down, and brought it to the door. Do you see that are hen, said he, with the top-knot on, afeedin' by the fence there? Yes, says I, I do. — W3II, says he, see that; and he put a ball right through the head of it. That^ said he, I reckon, is my title ; and that's the way I'll sarve any tarna- tion scoundrel that goes for to meddle with it. Says I, if that's your title, depend on't you won't have many fellers troublin' you with claims. I rather guess not, said he, larfin' ; and the lawyers won't be over forrard to buy such claims on spekila- tion, — and he wiped his rifle, reloaded her, and hung her up ag'in. There's nothin' of that kind here. But as touchin' the matter o' cheap government, why it's as well as not for our folks to hold out that ourn is so ; but the truth is, atween you and me, though I would'nt like you to let on to any one I said so, the truth is, somehow or other, weve pttt eurfoot in it — that's a fact. ENOLISH ARISTOCRACV 10» V&9 seeln don't pay the nam« hat's sar- ic when I ied to say should go gold that lice home , however e gist sent 1 they re- 3n. It's a ir can rely 1 I seed a Dne day to bout mat- ? is it from you, Mr. and took u see that the fence t; and he said he, I my tarna- I, if that's 3 troublin' ' ; and the n spekila- ng her up why it's as ); but the I you to let her, weve CHAPTER XIV. ENGLISH ARISTOCRACY AiND YANKEE MOBOCRACV A^HEN wc have taken our tower, said the Clockmaker, I fc -rfnate I will return to the t7-nited States for good and ail \^u had ought to visit our great nation, you may depend ; it' tnc most splendid location atwccn the poles. History can't showr nothin' like it ; you might bile all creation down to an essence, and not get such a concrete as New England. It's a sight lo behold twelve millions of free and enlightened citizens, and 1 guess we shall have all these provinces, and all South America. There is no eend to us ; old Rome that folks m;iko such a touss about, was nothin' to us — it warn't fit to hold a candle to our federal government, — that's a fact. I intend, said I, to do so before I go to Europe, and may perhaps avail myself of your kind offer to accompany me. Is an English- man well received in your country now? Well, he is now, said Mr. Slick ; the last war did that ; we licked the British into a respect for us ; and if it warn't that they are so plaguy jealous of our factories, and so invyous of our freedom, I guess we should be considerable sociable, but they can't sto- mach our glorious institutions no how. They don't understand vs. Father and our Minister used to have great arguments about the British. Father hated them like pyson, as most of our revolutionary heroes did ; but minister used to stand up for 'em considerable stiff. I mind one evenin' arter hay harvest, father said to me, Sam, said he, 'spose we go down and see minister ; I guess he's a little miffey with me, for I brought him up all standin' t'other night by sayin' the English were a damned overbcarin' tyrannical race, and he hadn't another word to say. When you make use of such language as that are. Colonel Slick, said he, there's an eend of all conversation. I allow it is very disrespectful to swear afore a minister, and very onhandsum to do so at all, and I don't approbate suck talk at no rate. So we will drop the subject if you please. Well, I got pretty grumpy too, and we parted in a huff. I think myself, says father, it warn't pretty to swear afore him ; for, Sam, if there 19 ra fr^ R*.-7. iilllil IB* 't."i Pl! 1 IK THE CLOCKMAKER. is a good man agoin' it is minister, — that's a fact. But, Sam, says he, we military men, — and he straightened himself up considerable stiff, ai.d pulled up his collar, and looked as fierce as a lion, — wo military men, says he, have a habit of rappin' out an oath now and then. Very few of our heroes didn't swear ; I recollect that tarnation fire-eeter, Gineral (jates, when he was in our sarvice, ordered me once to attack a British outpost, and I didn't much more than half like it. Gineral, says 1, there's a plaguy stone wall there, and the British have lined it, I guess ; and I'm athinkin' it ain't alto- gether gist safe to go too near it. D — m — n, — Captain Slick, says he, — (I was gist made a captain then) — d — m — n. Cap- tain Slick, says he, ain't there two sides to a stone wall ? Don't let me hear the like ag'in from you, said he, Captain, or I hope I may be tetotally and effectually d — d if I don't break you — ! I will, by gosh ! He warn't a man to be trifled with, you may depend ; so I drew up my company, and made at the wall double quick, expectin' every minit would be our last. Gist as we got near the fence, I heerd a scrablin' and a scuddin' behind it, and I said, now, says I, for'ard my boys, for your lives ! hot foot, and down onder the fence on your bellies ! and then we shall be as safe as they be, and p'rhaps we can loophole 'em. Well, we gist hit it, and got there without a shot, and down on our faces as flat as flounders. Presently we heerd the British run for dear life, and take right back across the road, full split. Now, says I, my hearties, up and let drive at 'em, right over the wall ! Well, we got on our knees, and cocked our guns, so as to have all ready, and then we jump'd up an cend ; and seein' nothin' but a great cloud o' dust, we fired right into it, and down we heerd 'em tumble ; and when the dust cleared off, we saw the matter of twenty white breeches turned up to us sprawlin' on the ground. Gist at that moment we heerd three cheers from the inemy at the fort, and a great shout of larfin' from our army too ; they haw-hawed like thunder. Well, says I, as soon as I could see, if that don't bang the bush. I'll be darn'd if it ain't a flock of sheep belongin' to Elder Solomon Longstalf, arter all, — and if we ain't killed the matter of a score of 'em too, as dead as mutton ; that's a fact. Well, we returned con- siderable down in the mouth, and says the gineral, captain, Bays he, I guess you made the enemy look pretty sheepish, ENGLISH ARISTOCRACr. Ill But, Sam, imself up [1 as fierce ^f rappin' DCS didn't al (jrates, I attack Q df like it. ', and the ain't alto- tain Slick, — n, Cap- tone wall? !, Captain, if I don't D be trilled and made lid be our ■ablin' and I my boys, ;e on your nd p'rhaps got there flounders. take right y hearties, we got on ready, and ut a great heerd 'em matter of le ground. e inemy at too ; they las I could if it ain't stalf, artcr Dre of 'em limed con- 1, captain, ' sheepish, did'nt you ? Well, if the oflicers didn't larf, it's a pity ; and says a Varginy officer that was there, in a sort of half whisper, that wall was well lined, you may depend ; sheep on one side and asses on the other ! Suys I, stranger you had bettei" not say that arc ag'in, or I'll Gintlcmcn, says the general, resarve your heat lor the inemy ; no quarrels among ourselves — and ho rode off, havin' first ^thispcrcd in my ear, Do you hear, captain, d — n you ! there are two sides to a wall. Yes, says I, gineral, and two sides to a story too. And don't for gracious' sake, say any more about it. Yes, we military men all swear a few, — it's the practice of the camp, and seems kinder nateral. But I'll go and make friends with minister. Well, we walked down to Mr. Hopewell's, and we found him in a little summer house, all covered over with honey- suckle, as busy as you please with a book he was astudyin', and as soon as he seed us, he laid it down, and came out to meet us. Colonel Slick, savs ho, 1 owe vou an ai)oloiiv, I believe ; T consait I spoke too abrupt to you t'other evenin'. I ought to have made some allowance for the ardour of one of our military heroes. Well, it took father all aback that, for he know'd it was him that was to blame, and not minister, who began to say that it was him that ought to ax pardon ; but minister wouldn't hear a word, — he was all humility was minister — he had no more pride than a babe,) — and says he. Come, Colonel, walk in and sit down here, and we will see if we cannot muster a bottle of cider for you, for I take this visit very kind of you. Well, he brought out the cider, and we sot down quite sociable like. Now, says he, colonel, what news have you. Well, says father, neighbor Dearbourn tells me that he heerd from excellent authority that he can't doubt, when he was to England, that King George the third has been dead these two years ; but his ministers darsen't let the people know it, for fear of a revolution ; so they have given out that he took the loss of these States so much to heart, and fretted and carried on so about it, that he ain't able to do business no more, and thut they are obliged to keep him included. They say the people want to have a government gist like ourn, but the lords and great folks won't let em, — and that if a poor man lays by a few dollars, the nobles send and take it right away, for fear they should buy powder and shot with it. It's i I w. i;uij, .: d: 113 TIIK CLOOKMAKUn. Awfiil to tliink on, n\ul it I 1 allow tlio Drltish nrn about tho most iMisl/ivcd, opprrssiMl, i{^iionml, and mist-raltln rolks on llm lactJ of ''iCMlion. Von imisii'i hclicvr all yoii hear, said ininisl(«r ; dvl>t«n«i upon it, liu'iT aiii'l a word of Iruth in it. I liavo liccii a ,';ood ilral ill l'lii!!;laiid, and I do assiiir noii, tliry arc as iVcc as wn \h\ and a most plamiy sivjit lifjicr, sliuii^',('r, aial wiser. Tlirir u;<>V(M'nin(Mit (-oiivciirs tliiiii ImIUm' lliaii oiirii uiuild, mid I nuisf say flirrc lie some things in it I lilvc licltcr lliaii oiirii too. Now, savs lir, Colonel, I'll hint out to von u here llicv have a most an aina/.ni adv;infa;;e over us here ni Anwrica. l''irst of all, tluM'c is lh«> Kin;j; on his throne, an hereditary Kill;;, — a horn Kin.i;, — the liciid of his people, and not tho head of n party ; not siipport<'d, ri";ht or wroin;, l>y one side Itecatise tln'y chos{« him, — nor lialeil and opposed, ri;;ht or wroim, i>v t'other hecaiise tln'V don't vt)t«' lor him ; hut loved and supported hy all hecause he is their Kiiijj;; and n'l^nirded hy all with a le«>lin' we don't know nothliT of in onr conn'trv, — a let'lin' of loyally. Yes, says lather, and they don't care >vln>lher it's a man, woman, or child ; the ignorant, heni;^hted critters. They are I'oiisiderahlo sure, says niinisler, ln' ain't u rotrue, nt anv rate. Well, the next link in the chain (ChaiiiM enonuji, poor wretcin\s ! says I'alher; hut it's jfood enoui^h for 'endent of tlui cn>wn on one sick', and the people on tho other; a hotly distin;;uished for its wcjiilii, — its lariiin', — its nnniilicence, — its hii;li honour, — and jUI the j^reat and i!;ood (pialities that eiini>hle the human heart. Vcs, says Dillier, and yet they' can sally out o' their castles, sei/e travellers, and roh Vm of all tlu^v have; hav'n't thev irot the wholi; countrv cnslaV(Ml .' — th(» dohaucluMl, prolliifate, rJ/'ciniiKilc, tyrannical pnnij; as th(\v be; — and see what mean «»niccs they lill ahont the King's parson. They put me in mind of my son llldad when he went to larn the iloctors' trade, — they took him tlu3 first w int(M* to the diss«M'tin' rt)oin. So in the spriiii:;, says I, I'ildad, says I, how do yon \ I lily, iiidi- l(< on tlio iiiiT, — its mill i>;ooil itlici', Mild ilri's, and 1' coiiiilry yr.'innical till alioiit on I'IMmiI : liiin tlio i,S says I, itlior, i\(! I. Why, (' of cold to stand uses, n;ivo 3uls» 'cm a KNULIflll AllISTOcnACY. 11» unrn/.iii' HO, 1 liMVn to l»o n wipin' of llirir mmnom ovrriaNfin'ly. It's a dirlv ItiiMiiH'SM, lliat'H a liirl ; — hut disHrrlin' is ii diiiy nlljiir, I jjiiirss, alto;.'rllii'r. \\ fll, l»y all arconnls ihf nohdity (ill oHiiTs as niiaii as iho doctors* apittonlins do thr lirst winirr. I li II yoii, ihrsf an* inrrt' lits, says minisirr, !'»•( ii|i In ro hv n party to nilliiciiro lis au'/ni tlin Kniisli. V\rll, will! siml I'alhrr, j'o on, and ho ihrcw onr log over llu^ other, tilled hmU in his chair, liihled his arms over his hreast, and looked as di-tMrinined as il' he ihoiinhl — now yoii tn/iy iL^isI talk lill yon are hoarse, il yoii like, hut yon won't cii;t:e ol' I'at [un'k thrown into a hoilin' kettle of maj)lo syrup; it ehecks tlie huhlilin' and makes the hoilin' subside, niid not run over. Wt.ll, you s«,'e, hy the House o' Lords get- ting n^cruits from able connnonors, and the commoners gettin' recruits from tiie youn;^ nobility, by intermarriage — and by thu gradual branchin' olf of the young i)eoi)Ie of both sexes, It l)eand-tear if invented, that will bo the least morsel of use in the world. Explain what you njean, for gracious sake, says father, for I don't (tiKiorstuiid yiw word of what y•'. Now, sir, says he, and he brought his two hectS close together, and taking hold of his coat tail with his left hand, brought his right hand slowly round to it, and then lifted it gradually up as if he was dravvin' out a sword, — and now, sir, said he, makin' a lunge into the air with his arm, — now, sir, if your were not a clergyman, you should answer it to me with your life — you shoulrl, I snore. It's nothin' but your cloth protects you, and an old friendship that has sub- sisted atwecn us for many years. You revolutionary heroes, colonel, says minister, smilin', are covered with too much glory to require any aid from private quarrels : put up yoo.r sword, colonel, put it up, my good friend, and let us see how the cider is. I have talked so much, my mouth feels con- siderable rusty about the hinges, I vow. I guess we had, says father, quite mollified by that are little revolutionary hero, — and I will sheath it ; and he went thro' the form of puttin* a sword into the scabbard, and fetched his two hands together with a click that sounded amazin'ly like the rael thing. Fill your glass, colonel, says minister, fill your glass, and 1 will give you a toast: — May ovr government never degenerate into a moby nor our mobs grow strong enough to become our government. CHAPTER XV. THE CONFESSIONS OF A DEPOSED AHNISTER. Since I parted with you, squire, at Windsor, last fall, I've been to home. There's been an awful smash among the banks in the States — they've been blowed over, and snapped off*, and torn up by the roots like the pines to the southward in a tarnado : — awful work, you may depend. Everything prostrated as flat as if it had been chopped with an axe for the fire; it's the most dismal sight I ever beheld. Shortly after I left you I got a letter from Mr. Hopewell, a tellin' of me, there was a storm abrewin', and advisin' of me to come home as soon as possible, to see arter my stock in the SlicK- viUe bank, for they were carryin' too much sail, and he was e'en a'most certain it would capsize when the squall struck it. Well, I rode night and day, I nearly killed Cid Clay and OONFESSIOXS OF A MINISTER. 119 6648 close leil hand, en lifted it -and now, lis arm, — answer it nothin' but it has sub* jry heroes, too much lit up yotir us see how feels con- js we had, /olutionarv le form of two hands te the rael your glass, ment never ' enough to st fall, I've among the [id snapped southward Everything an axe for 1. Shortly a tellin' of ne to come I the SlicK- nd he was II struck it. Clay and myself too (I left the old horse to the St. John's ;) but I got there in time, sold out my shares, and gist secured myself, when it failed tototaily, — it won't pay live cents to the dcUar; u total wreck, stock uiid llukf . Poor old minister, ho is nearly used up; he is small potatoes now, and iew in a iiill. It made mo feel quite streaked to see him, for he is a rael ,u;ood mau, a genuwi/te primitive Christian, and one of the old school. \\ hy, Sum, says he, how do you do, my boy ? The sight ot you is actilly good for sore eyes. Oh ! I am glad to see you once more albre I go, it does me good — it happifies me, it does, 1 vow — for you always seem kind o'nateral to me. I didn't think I should ever take any interest in anything ag'in ; — but 1 must have a talk with you — it will do me gooa — it revives me. And now, Sam, said he, open that are cup- board there, and take the big key otf the nail on the righ. hand side — it's the key of the cellar ,* and go the north bin ind bring up a bottle of the old genuioine cider — it wih refresh you arter your fatigue; and give me my pipe and tobacco, and we will have a talk as we used to do in old times Well, says I, when I returned and uncorked the bottle, — mfnister, says I, it's no use in a talkin', — and I took a heav} pull at the cider — it's no use a talkin', but there's nothing like that among the Blue-noses any how. 1 believe you migh stump the univarse for cider — that caps all — it's super-excel- lent — that's a fact. I shall stump out of the univarse soon, Sam, said he ; I'm een a'most done ; my body is worn out, and tuy spirits are none of the best now, — I'm a lone man. The old men are droppin' off fast into the grave, and the young men are troopin' off* fast to the far West ; and Slickville don't seem the place to me it used to do no more. I 'm well stricken in years ow ; my life stretches over a considerable space of the colony ne, and over all our republic : my race is run, my lamp is out, and I am ready to go. I often say, Lord, now lettcst thou thy sarvant depart in peace. Next birth-day, if the Lord spares me to see it, I shall be ninety-five years old. Well, says I, minister, you've seen great changes in your time, that's sar- tain ; haven't we grown cruel fast ? There ain't such a nation as ourn p'rhaps atween the poles, gist at this present time. We are a'most through to the Pacific, and spreadin' all over this great Continent ; and our flag floats over every pan of the world. Our free and enlightened people do present a'most 120 THE CLOCKMAKER. ::M:''! a glorious spectacle — that's a fact. Well, he sot still and said nothin'; but takin' tho pipe out of his mouth, he let go a great long pulfof sniolcG, and tlien rc[)lacc'iJ his pipe ag'in, and urter a space, says he. Well, Sam, wiiat of all that / VVhy, said I, minister, you remind me of Joab Hunter; he whip[)ed every onij that darst try hhii, both in ISlickville and its vicinity ; and then he sot down and cried like a child, 'cause folks were aiberd of him, and none on 'em would fight him. It's a law of natur', Sam, said he, that things that grow too fast, and grow too big, go to decay soon. 1 am aieerd we shall be rotten afore we are ripe. Precosity ain't a good sign in any thing. A boy that outgrows his strength, is seldom healthy : an old head on young shoulders is plaguy apt to find afore long the shoulders too old and weak for the head. I am too aged a man to be led away by names — too old a bird to be caught by chaff. Tinsel and glitter don't deceive me mto a belief that they are solid, genuine metals. Our eagie, that we chose for our emblem, is a fine bird ; and an aspirin' bird ; but he is a bird of prey, Sam, — too fond of blood, — too prone to pounce on the weak and unwary. I don't like to see him hoverin' over Texas and Canada so much. Our flag that you talk of is a good flag ; but them stripes, are they prophetic or accidental ? Are they the stripes of the slaves risin' up to humble our pride by exhibitin' our shame on our banner? Or what do they mean ? Freedom, what is it ? We boast of freedom ; toll me what freedom is 1 Is it havin' no king and no nobles 1 Then we are sartainly free. But is that freedom 1 Is it bavin' no established religion ? Then we are free enough, gracious knows. Is it in havin' no hereditary government, or vigorous executive ? Then we are free, beyond all doubt. Yes, we know what we are atalkin' about ; we are wise in our generation, wiser than the children of light — we are as free as the air of heaven. What that air is, p'rhaps they know who talk of it so flippantly and so glibly ; but it may not be so free to all comers as our country is. But what is freedom ? My little grandson, little Sammy, (I had him named art(.u' you, Sam,) told me yesterday I was behind the enlightenment of the age ; perhaps you, who are ahead of it, will answer me. What is freedom? A colt is free, — he is unrestrahied, — he acknowledges no master, — no law, but the law of natur'. A man may get his brains kicked out among wild horsesi but still they are free. Is our freedom like that ill and said go a great 1, and arter /hy, said I, ppod every cinity ; and folks were at grow too aleerd we a good sign , is seldom r apt lo find le head. I 3 old a bird deceive me Our eagle, an aspirin' blood, — too t like to see )ur flag that 2y prophetic risin' up to anner 1 Or e boast of king and it freedom ? ree enough, ernment, or 1 doubt. are wise in -we are as rhaps they )ut it may Jut what is I had him behind the ahead of it, ree, — he is iw, but the out among n like that CONFESSIONS OF A MINISTER 121 of the wild horse or the wild ass? If not, what is it? — Is it in the right of openly preaching infidelity ? Is it in a licen- tious press? Is it in the outpourings of popular spirits ? Is it in the absence of all subordination, or the insulficicncy of all legal or moral restraint? I will define it. It is that hap- py condition of mankind where people are assembled in a community j where there is no government, no law, and no religion, but such as arc imposed from day to day by a mob of freemen. That is freedom. Why, minister, said I, what on airth ails you, to make you talk arter that fashion? If you had abin drinkin' any of tha are old cider, I do think I should have believed it had iiot into your brain, for it's pretty considerable stiff that, and tarnation heady. How can you go for to say we have no government, no law, and no religion, when ii's ginerally allowed we are the most h'ec and enlightened people on the face of the airth ? — I didn't say that, Sam ; I was definin' freedom in its gene- ral acceptation. We have got a government somewhere, if folks could only find it. When they sarched for it at Texas, they said it was to Canady lines ; and when they go to Cana- cly lines to seek it, they say it is gone to the Seminole war ; and when they get there, they'll tell 'em they've been lookin' for it ; but it hasn't arrived yet, and they wish to gracious it would make haste and come, for if it wor there, three thou- sand Injians couldn't beat us three years runnin', and defy us yet. We've got law too ; and when the judges go on the cir- cuit, the mob holds its courts, and keeps the peace. — Whoso commission does the mob hold ?— The people's commission. And whose commission does the supreme judge hold 1 — The President's. Which is at the top of the pot then ? Can the j'^dgcs punish the mob? — No; but the mob can punish the judges. Which is the supreme court, then ? No ; we have law. Yes, said I, and the prophets too; for if you ain't a prophet of evil, it's a pity. I fairly felt ryled, for if there is any thing that raises my dander, and puts my Ebmczer up, it is to hear a man say any thing ag'in the glorious institutions of our great, splendid country. There you go ag'in, said he ; you don't know what you aie atalkin' about ; a prophet ii.sed to be a person who ibretold 'Ibture events to come. What they be now in W'ebster's new dictionary, I don't know ; but I guess they now be those who foretell things arter they happen. I warn't aprophesvin' — 1 11 I' ii' fi''- W4^.'' m liili. "iiiiii'i'i i' iiiiiiiiii ill 122 THE CLOCKMAKER. was speakin' of things afore my eyes. Your ideas of prophcld are about as clear as your ideas of freedom. Yes, we've got law, and written law too, as well as written constitutions— (ibr we despise that onwritteu law, the common law of the igno- rant British ; we despise it as a relic of barbarism, of the age of darkness and fable,) — and as soon as our cases that aro tried afore the mob courts are collected and reported by some of our eminent mob orators, these state trials will have great authority. They'll be quoted to England with great respect, I know ; for they've got orators of the same breed there too, — the same gentle, mild, Christian-like philanthropists. Pity you hadn't sported that kind of doctrine, says I, minister, afore our glorious revolution. The British would have madt a bishop of you, or a Canter Berry, or whatever they cah their Protestant pope. Yes, you might have had the cannoi law and the tythe law enforced with the baggonet law Abusin' the British don't help us, Sam. I am not their advo cate, but the advocate for law, just and equal law, impartial Ij administered, voluntarily obeyed, and, when infringed, dul) enforced. Yes, we have religion, too, from the strict goou old platform, through every variety and shade of tinker, mor- monite, and mountebank, down to the infidel, — men who preach peace and good will, but who fight and hate each other like the devil. Idolatry like ourn you won't find even among the heathen. We are image worshippers : we have two images. There's the golden image, which all men wor- ship here, and the American image. The American image ! said I ; do tell : what on airth is that ? I do believe in my heart, minister, that you have taken leave of your senses. What onder the sun is the American image ? An image of perfection, Sam, said he ; fine phrenological head • — high forehead — noble countenance — intelligent face — limbs Her- culean, but well proportioned — graceful attitude — a figure of great elegance and beauty, — the personification of every thing that is great and good, — that is the American image, — that we set up and admire, and every body thinks it is an image of himself. Oh ! it is humiliatin', it 's dcgradin', but we are all brought up to this idolatry from our cradle ; we are taught first to worship oold, and then to idolize our- selves. Yes, we have a government, have a law, and have a reli- gion — and a precious government, law, and religion, it is. I KiyflPi liil pi Bllillillllili of prophcld s, we've got utions — (for of* the igno- 1, of the age ses that are •ted by some I have great reat respect, there too, — 3pists. Pity ; I, minister, I have macU er they cal\ the cannoi Lggonct law it their advo ', impartiall) fringed, dul} e strict goou ' tinker, mor- [, — men who Ite each otliei 't find even rs : we have II men wor- can image ! ieve in my your senses. \n image of lead i— high -limbs Her- e — a figure ion of every rican image, thinks it is 's degradin', our cradle ; idolize our- have a reli- gion, it is. I CONFESSIONS OF A MINISTER. 123 was once led l(> believe we had made a great discovery, and were tryin' a groat experiment in the art of self-government, for the benefit of mankind, as well as ourselves. Oil, delusion of delusions! — It had been tried before and signally lulled, and tried on our own ground too, and under our own eyes. Wo are copies and not originals — base imitators. When he got this far, 1 seed how it was — he was delirious, poor old gentle- man ; the sight of me was too much for him ; his narves was excited, and he was aravin'; his face was Hushed, his eye glared, and looked quite wild-like. It touched me to the heart, for I loved him like a father, and his intellects were of the first order afore old age, like a cloud, had overshadowed 'em. I thought I should have boohooed right out. So, instead of contradictin' him, I humoured him. Wjiere was it tried, minister? said I ; who had the honour afore us ? for let us give the credit where it is due. The North American Indians, said he, had tried it afore in all its parts. They had no king, no nobles, no privileged class, no cslablished religion. Their mobs made laws. Lynch \aw too, for they had burned people before the citizens at Mobile were ever born, or were even thought on, and invaded also other folks' territory by stealth, and then kept possession. They, too, elected their presidents and other officers, and did all and every thing we do. They, too, had their federal government of independent states, and their congress and solemn lookin' boastin' orators. They, too, had their long knives as well as Arkansas folks have, and were as fond of blood. And where are they now ? Where is their great experiment 1 — their great spectacle of a people governin' themselves ? Gone ! where ourn wiU go ; gone with the years that are fled, never to return ! Oh, Sam, Sam ! my heart is sick within me. Where now is our beautiful republic bequeathed to us by W^ashington, and the sages and heroes of the revolution 1 Overwhelmed and destroyed by the mighty- waters of democracy. Nothin' is now left but a dreary waste of angry waters, moved and excited by every wind that blows and agitated by every conflictin' current, onsafe to navigate fearful even to look upon. This is is too excitin' a subject, said I, minister, and admits of great deal bein' said on both sides. It ain't worth our while to get warm on it. As for an established church, said I, you. know what an hubbub they made in England to get clear of that are. I don't think we need envy 'em, unless they'll '^1 m I? 'f\ I'll 124 THE CLOCKMAKER. -!i:' M establish our platform. If they did thaty said I, and I looked up and winked, I don't know as I wouldn't vote for it myself. Sam, said he, we are goin' to have an established church ; i* may be a very good church, and is a great deal belter than many we have ; but still it ain't the church of the Pilgrims. What church, said I, minister? Why, said he, the Catholic Church ; before long it will be the established church of the United States. Poor old man, only think of his getting such a freak as that are in his head ; it was melancholy to hear him talk such nonsense, warn't it ? What makes you think so ? said I. Why, said he, Sam, the majority here do everything. The majority voted at first against an establishment; a ma- jority may at last vote for it ; the voice of the majority is law. Now the Catholics arc fast gainin' a numerical majority. Don't you believe census or other tables? I know it, and I could easily correct the errors of the census. They gain constantly — they gain more by emigration, more by natural increase in proportion to their numbers, more by intermarriages, adoption, and conversion, than the Protestants. With their exclusive views of salvation, and peculiar tenets — as soon as they have the majority this becomes a Catholic country, with a Catholic government, with the Catholic reli- gion established by law. Is this a great change ? A greater change has taken place among the British, the Medes, and Persians, of Europe, the nolumus leges mutari people. What then will the natural order and progress of events now in train here not produce ? I only speak of this — I don't dread it ; I hope, and trust, and pray that it may be so ; not because I think them right, for I don't, but because they are a Chris- tian church, an old church, a consistent church, and because it is a church, and any sect is better than the substitution of a cold, speculative philosophy for religion, as we see too frequently among us. We are too greedy to be moral, too self-sufficient to be pious, and too independent to be religious. United under one head, and obedient to that hef>d, with the countenance and aid of the whole Catholic world, what can they not achieve ? Yes, it is the only cure that time and a kind and merciful Providence has in store for us. We shall be a Catholic country. Sam, my heart is broken ! — my Inst tie is severed, and I am now descendin' to the grave full of years and full of sorrows ' i have received my dismissal ; my eldors have CONFESSIONS OF A MINISTER. 129 nd I looked r it myself, church ; i* belter than ic Pilgrims, he Catholic lurch of the retting such to hear him u think so ? everything, nent ; a ma- ority is law. al majority, ow it, and I rration, more ers, more by 1 Protestants, iliar tenets — s a Catholic Catholic reli- ? A greater I Medes, and jople. What ents now in i don't dread ; not because are a Chris- and because )stitution of a we see too be moral, too be religious. 3a d, with the Id, what can it time and a J. We shall jvered, and I and full of eldfirs have united upon me with the appallin' information that they havo given a call to a Ihiitariaii, and have no further need of my services. My labours, JSani, were not worth liuving — that's a fact • I am now old, grey-headed, and infirm, and worn out in tlie service of my master. It was time for me to retire. Tempus abire tibi est. (I hope you hav'n't forgot what littlo Latin you had, Sam.) Unitarian in my pulpit ! I don't blame 'em for that : — but a It has killed me — I cannot survive it ; and he cried like a child. I looked on 'em, said ho, as my children — I loved 'em as my ow n — tau|:;ht 'em their infant prayers — I led 'cm to the altar of the liOrtl, i thd 'em with tho bread of life, encouraged 'cm when they was right, reproved 'em when they was wrong, and watched over 'cm always. Where now is my flock 1 and what account shall I give of tho sliepherd ? Oh, Sam, willin'ly would I offer up my life for 'em as a sacrifice, but it may not be. My poor flock, my dear children, my lost sheep, that I should have lived to have seen this day ! — and he hid his face in his hands, and moaned bitterly. Poor old gentleman, it had been too much for him ; it was evident that it had affected his head as well as his heart. And this I will say, that a better head and a better heart there ain't tiiis day in the United States of America than minister Joshua Hopewell's of Slickville. I am glad to hear you speak so affectionately of him, said I. It shows there are good and warm hearts in Slickville besides his : but do you really think he was delirious ? No doubt in the world on it, said he. If you had aseen him and heerd him, you would have felt that his troubles had swompiiicd him. It was gone goose with him, — that's a fact. That he spoke under the influence of excited feelings, I replied, and with a heart filled with grief and indignation, there can be no doubt ; but I sec no evidenco of delirium ; on the contrary, his remarks strike me as most eloquent and original. They have made a great impression upon me, and I shall long remember the confessions of «■ deposed minister* 20 -M '!l!|ii'ii lli'!^^::- W )2<> THE CLOCKMAKBR. CHAPTER XVI. * CANADIAN POLITICS. The nest day we reached Clare, a township wholly settled by descendants of the Acadian French. The moment yo« pass the bridge at Scissiboo, you become sensible that you arc in a foreign country. And here I must enter my protest against that American custom of changing the old and appro- priate names of places, for the now and inappropriate ones of Europe. Scissiboo is the Indian name of this long and beautiful river, and signifies the great deep, and should have been retained, not merely because it was its proper name, but on account of its antiquity, its legends, and, above all, because the river had a name, whj'*-h the minor streams of the province have not. A country, in my opinion is robbed of half of its charms when its treams, like those of Nova Scotia, have no other names than those of the proprietors of the lands through which they pass, and change them as often as the soil changes owners. Scisbiboo sounded too savage and uncouch in the ears of the inhabitants, and they changed It to Weymouth, but they must excuse nie for adopting the old reading. I am no democrat; I like old names and the traditions belonging to them. I am no friend to novelties. There has been a re-action in Upper Canada. The movement party in that colony, with great form and ceremony, conferred the name of Little York upon the capital of the colony ; but the Conservatives have adopted the ancient order of things, and with equal taste and good feeling have restored the name of Toronto. I hope to see the same restoration at Scissiboo, at Tatam-agouche, and other places where the spoiler has been. There is something very interesting in these Acadians. They are the lineal descendants of those who made the first effective settlement in North America, in 1606, under De Monts, and have retained to this day the dress, customs, language, and religion of their ancestors. They are a peace- able, contented, and happy people ; and have escaped the \emptations of English agitators, French atheists, and domestia demagogues. CANADIAN POLITICJt: 127 vholly settled moment yo* J that you arc r my protest Id and appro- •ropriate ones his long and should have proper name, id, above all, treams of the is robbed of ose of Nova proprietors of them as often id too savage they chp.ngcd adopting the the traditions There has nent party in conferred the ony ; but the )f things, and the name of Scissiboo, at iler has been, se Acadians. nade the first 6, under De ess, customs, ' are a peace- escaped the and domestio i I have often l)cnn amnzod, said the Clockmakor, when travelling among the Canadians, to sec what curious crifti-rs tlic^y In;, 'i'hoy leave the ninrketin' to the uonnu, luul their biisinrss to thoir notaries, the care of their souls to the i)ri(sts, and of their bodies to their doctors, and ru^arve oiilv lV(.;li» to si'«' tijo poor sin)|)l(! critters so iinposcd upon as llii-y he, lor tii('\'ll catch it, ifllicy do rebel, to a sartamty. (Jist as sure as I'appiuor takes that step he is done for, — he's a r( l'u;^co in aix weeks in the IStates, with a price s(>t on his head, lor the critter won't lij^ht. Tho Knglish all say lie wants th(! clear grit — ain't got the stull* — no ginger in him— it's ail talk. The lust time 1 was to Montreal, I seed a good deal of tho leaders of the French; they were very civil to me, and bought ever so many of my clocks, — they said they liked to trade with their Auiericnn friends, it was proper to keep up a good feelin' among nei;ihbours. There was one Doctor Jodrio there, a'most everh.stin'ly at my heels aintroducin' of me to his countrymen, and reconuneiidin' them to trade with me. Well, I went lo his shop one night, and when he heerd my voice, he come out of a back room, and, said ho, walk in here, Mount-Sheer Slick, I want you for one particular tise ; como along with me, my Tood fellor, there are some friends here takin' of a glass o' grog along with me, and a pipe; — won't you join us '. WvU, said I, 1 don't care if I do; I won't be starched. A pipe wouldn't be amiss gist now, says I, nor a glass of grog neither ; so in I went ; but my mind n»isgivcd me there was some mischief abrewin' in there, as 1 seed he bolt( d the door arter him, and so it turned out. The room was full of chaps, all doctors, and notaries, and members of assembly, with little short pipes in their mouths, ochattin' away like so many monkeys, and each man had his tuml.ler o' hot rum and water afore him on the table. Sons o* liberty, says he, hero's a brother, Mount-Sheer Slick, a haul o' jaw clockmaker. Well, thry all called out. Five Clock- maker I No, says I, not five clockmakers, but only one ; and hardly trade enough for hirn neither, I guess. Well, they hawhawcd like any thing, for they beat all natur for larlin', them French. B'ive is same as hurrah, says he,— long life to you ! Oh ! says I, I onderstand now. No fear of that, any how, when I am in the hands of a doctor. Yankee hit him hard that time, be gar I said a little under-sized parchment- skinned lookin' lawyer. May be so, said the doctor; but a feller would stand as good a chance for his life in my hands, I guess, as he would in yourn, if he was to be defended in i 130 THE CLOCKMAKER. t ! ■ I; : court by you. The critters all yelled right out at this joke, and struiik the table with their fists till the glasses all rang ag'in. Bon, bon, says they. Says the Doctor, Don't you understand French, Mr. Slick ? No, says I, not one word ; I wish to goodness 1 did though, for 1 find it very awkward sometimes atradin' without it. (I always said so when I was axed that are question, so as to hear what was agoin' on : it helped me in my business considerable. I could always tell whether they actilly wanted a clock or not, or whether they had the money to pay for it : they let out all their secrets.) Would you like to see a bull-bait I said he ; we are goin' to bait a bull winter arter next, — grand fun, said he ; we'll put fire to his tail, — stick squibs and matches into his hide, — make him kick, and roar, and toss, like the diablc : then we'll put the dogs on, worry him so long as he can stand, — then, tarn him, kill him, skin him, and throw his stinkin' carcass to the dogs and de crows. Yes, said the other fellors, kill him, damn him, — kill him ! and they got up and waved their glasses over their heads ; — death to the beast " d la lantcrne.^^ Says one of them in French to the doctor, Prenny garde, — are you sure, are you clear he is not English 1 Oh, sartain, Baid he in the same lingo ; he is a Yankee clockmakin' cheatin' vagabond from Boston, or thereabouts ; but we must court him, — we must be civil to them if we expect their aid. If we once get clear o' the English we will soon rid ourselves of them too. They are chips of the old block, them Yankees; a bad breed on both sides o' the water. Then turnin' to me, Bays he, I was just desirin' these gentlemen, Mr. Slick, to drink your health, and that of the United States. Thank you, says I, 1 believe our people and the French onderstand each other very well ; a very dlsinteristed friendship on both sides. Oh, sartain, says he, aputtin' of his hand on his heart, and lookin' spooney. One sentiment, one grand sympathy of feelin', one real amittv yea. Your health, sir, said he ; and they all stood up ag'iu and made a deuce of a roar over it Five Americanos ! I hope you have good dogs, said I, for your bull-bait ? Oh, true breed and no mistake, said he. It takes a considerable of a stiff dog, says I, and one of the real grit, to face a bull. Them fellors, when they get their danders up, are plaguy unsafe critters ; they'll toss and gore the common kind like nothin', — make all fly ag'in : it ain't over-safe to come too at this joke, sses all rang )r, Don't you ; one word ; I 'cry awkward when I was agoin' on : it d always tell whether they their secrets.) 3 are goin' to he ; we'll put 3 hide, — make hen we'll put d, — then, tarn carcass to the kill him, damn ir glasses over 5) enny garde, — Oh, sartain, ) clockmakin' but we must pect their aid. rid ourselves hem Yankees; turnin' to me, Mr. Slick, to Thank you, dei'stand each on both sides. lis heart, and sympathy of said he ; and L roar over it )ull.bait? Oh, a considerable to face a bull. p, are plaguy non kind liko 3 to come too CANADIAN POLITICS. 131 ; near 'em when they are once fairly raised. If there is any- thin' in natur' I'm afeerd on, it's a bull when he is ryled. Oh yes, said he, we got the dogs, plenty of 'em too, — genuine breed from old BVance, kept pure ever since it came here, sxcept a slight touch of the fox and the wolf; the one makes em run faster, and t'other bite sharper. It's a grand breed. Thinks I to myself, I onderstand you, my hearties. I see your driR ; go the whole figur', and do the thing genteel. Try your hand at it, will you ? and if John Bull don't send you aflyin' into the air sky-high, in little less than half no time, it's a pity. A pretty set o' yelpin' curs you be to face such a critter as he is, ain't you? VVhy, the very moment he begins to paw and to roar, you'll run sncakin' oti' with your tails atvveen your legs, a yelpin' and a squeelin' as if Old Nick himself was arter you. Great man, your Washington, says the doctor. Very, says I ; no greater ever lived — p'r'aps the world never seed hia ditto. And Papinor is a great man, too, said he. Very, said I, especially in the talking line — he'd beat Washington at that game, I guess, by a long chalk. I hope, says he, some day or another, Mr. Slick, and not far off neither, we shall be a free and independent people, like you. We shall be the France of America afbr'2 long — the grand nation — the great empire. It's our distiny — everything foretells it — I can see it as plain as can be. Thinks I to myself, this is a good time to broach our interest ; and if there is to be a break-up here, to put in a spoke in the wheel for our folks — a stitch in time saves nine. So, says I, you needn't flatter yourselves, doctor ; you can't be a distinct nation ; it ain't possible, in the natur' o' things. You may jine us, if you like, and there would bo some sense in that move — that's a fact ; but you never can stand alone here — no more than a lame man can without crutches, or a child of six days old. No, not if all the colo- nies were to unite, you couldn't do it. W^hy, says I, gist sea liere, doctor ; you couldn't show your noses on the fishin' ground for one minit — you can hardly do it now, even the' the British have you under their wing. Our folks would driva you off the banks, seize your fish, tear your nets, and lick you like a sack — and then go home and swear you attacked them first, and our government would seize the fisheries as an indemnification. How could you support an army and u navy, and a diplomacy, and make fortifications Why yc-u 132 THE CLOCKMAKER. I. |i| couldn't build and support one frigate, nor maintain one regi- ment, nor garrison (Quebec itself, let alone the out-posts. Our folks would navigate the St. Lawrence in spite of your teeth, and the St. John River too, and how could you help your- selves? They'd smuggle you out of your eye-teeth, and swear you never had any. Our fur traders would attack your fur t-adcrs, and drive 'em all in. Our people would enter here, and *^ettle — then kick up a row, call for American volun- teers, declare themselves independent, and ask admission into the Union ; and afore you know'd where you were, you'd find yourselves one of our states. Gist look at what is goin' on to Texas, and what has gone on to Florida, and then see what will go on here. We shall own clean away up to the North and South Pole, afore we're done. Says the doctor, in French, to the other chaps, that would be worse than bein' a colony to the English. Them Yankee villains would break up our laws, language, and customs ; that cat wouldn't jump at all, would it ? Jamais^ Jamais ! says the company. We must have aid from old B'rance; we must be the grand nation, and the great empire, ourselves — and he stop't, went to the door, unbolted it, looked round the shop, and then turned the bolt ag'in. Would your folks, says he, help us, if we was to revolt, Mr. Slick. Certainly, said I ; they'd help you all they could, and not go to war with the British. They'd leave all the armories on the line unguarded so you could run over and pretend to rob 'em, and leave all the cannon in the Ibrts without any body to see arter them, so you might have them if you wanted them. Lots o' chaps would volunteer in your ranks, and our citizens would sub- scribe handsum'. They'd set up a claim pretty fierce, at the same time, about the New Brunswick boundary line, so as to make a devarsion in your favour in that quarter. We can't go to war gist now ; it would ruin us, stock and fluke. We should lose our trade and shippin', and our niggers and Ind- gians aie ugly customers, and would take a whole army to watch them in case of a war. We'd do all we could to help you as a people, but not as a government. We'd furnish you with arms, ammunition, provisions, money, and volunteers. We'd let you into our country, but not the British. We'd help you to arrange your plans and to Jerange them. But we'd have to respect our treaties, for we are a high-minded, right-minded, sound-minded, and religious people. We scru* CANADIAN POLITICS. 133 m one regi- posts. Oui your teethi help your- !-teeth, and attack your would enter rican volun- mission into I, you'd find is goin' on en see what the North , that would lem Yankee istoms ; that mais ! savs e; we must ^es — and he id the shop, :s, says he, nlv, said I ; ar with the unguarded id leave all ter them, so )ts o' chaps would sub- erce, at the ne, so as to We can't fluke. We rs and Ind- )le army to Duld to help furnish you volunteers, ish. We'd them. But igh -minded, We scru- pulously fulfil our engagements. What we undertake we perform — ther's no mistake in us — you always know where to find us. W are under great obligations to the British— they saved us from the expense and miseries of a war with France — they have built us up with their capital and their credit, and are our best customers. We could not, consist- ently with our treaties or our conscience, send an army or a navy to help you ; but we will hire you or lend you oux steam-boats, and other craft ; send you men to make an army and the stuff to feed, clothe, arm, and pay them. In short, the nations of the airth will look on witii admiration at the justice and integrity of our doings. We shall respect tlie treaty with the British ca one side, and prove ourselves a kind, a liberal, and most obliging neighbour to you on the other. (Tiovernment will issue proclamations against intcrlc- rence. The press of the country will encourage it. The nation will be neutral, but every soul in it will aid you. Yes, we arc as straight as a shingle in our dealings, and do things above board handsum'. We do love a fair deal above all things — that's a fact. Bon, hon ! says they, Lcs aristocrats d la lantcrne — and they broke out a singin', d la lanterne* It was now twelve o'clock at night when we quit, and gist as we got into the street, I hcerd the word Doric, Doric, — and says I, what on airth is that? what sort o' critter is a Doric? A Doric is a loyalist, says they, — a diable bull, — sacra futre — kill him, — and they arter him, full split like the wind, caught him, knocked him down, and most finished him — tliey e'en a'most beat him to a jelly, and left him for dead. That's the way, says they, we'll sarve every Englishman in Canada — extarminate 'em, damn 'em. Time for me to be off, says I, a'most, I'm a thinkin' ; it's considerable well on towards moruin'. Good night, Mount Sheer. Bon swore! Bon sicore! Bays they, singin' — "Oh ! ga ira, ga ira, ga ira, Lcs aristocrats, ti la lanterne." And the last I heerd of them, at the end of the street, was an everlastin' almighty shout. Five Papinor — five Papinor ! Yes, I pity them poor Canadians, snid the Clockmaker They are a loyal, contented, happy people, if them sarpcnts of doctors and lawyers would leave 'em alone, and let 'em be, and not pyson their minds with all sorts of lies and locrums ^tlWM ■ l| N ,1^ 134 THE CLOCKMAKER. isfe; I ^ I'':|| about their government. They will spunk 'em to rebelliou a», last, and when it does come to the scratch they will desart *em as sure as eggs is eggs, and leave 'em to be shot down by the sodgers ; they ain't able of themselves to do nothin', them Canadians ; they ain't got the means, nor the energy, nor the knowledge for it ; they ain't like the descendants of iho Pilgrims' — that's a fact. The worst of it is, too, the punishment won't fall on the right heads neither, for them critters will cut and run to a sartainty; — I know it, I'm e'en a'most sure of it, — if they'd ahad the true blue in 'em, they wouldn't have half murdered and maimed that poor defence- less Doric, as they did. None but cowards do 'em are things; — a brave man fights, — a coward sticks a bowie knife into your ribs; but p'rhaps it will all turn out for the best in the eend, said he ; for if there is a blow up, Papinor will off to the States full chisel with the other leaders, — the first shot, and tliom that they catch and hang c?n never show their faces in Canada ag'in. It will clear the country of them, as they clear a house of rats, — frighten 'em out of their seven senses by firin' ofi' a gun. A thunderstorm, ^squire, said the Cloclcmalcer, most always cools the air, clears the sky, lays the dust, and makes all look about right ag'in. Every thing will depend on how the English work it arter-. wards ; if they blunder ag'in, they'll never be able to set it to rights. What course ought they to adopt ? said I, for the sub- ject is one in which I feel great interest. I'll tell you, said he. First, they should , and he suddenly checked him- self, as if doubtful of the propriety of answering the question; — and then smiling, as if he had discovered a mode of escaping ♦he difficulty, he continued — They should make you plinipo und appoint me your secretary. A CURE FOR SMUGGLING. 135 rebelliou a* will desart shot down do nothin', the energy, cendants of is, too, the r, for them it, I'm e'en n 'em, they )or defence- are things; } knife into best in the ill off to the 5t shot, and leir faces in ,s they clear a senses by most always ikes all look ork it arter- e to set it to for the sub- 3II you, said becked him- tie question ; ! of escaping you plinipo CHAPTER XVII. A CURE FOR SMUGGLING. Whoever natur does leasts man does inostj said the Clo«:k maker. Gist see the diflbrciice atwocn these folks here to Liverpool and them up the bay of Fundy. There natur' has given them the finest country in the world, — she has taken away all the soil from this place, and chucked it out there, and left nothin' but rocks and stones here. There they gist vegetate, and hero they go-ahead like anything. I was credi- bly inlbrmcd, when Liverpool was first settled, folks had to carry little light ladders on their shoulders to climb over the rocks, and now they've got better streets, better houses, better gardens, and a better town than any of the bay men. They carry on a considerable of a fishery here, and do a great stroke in the timber-business. I shall never forget a talk I had with Ichabod Gates here, and a frolic him and me had with a tide-waiter. Ichabod had a large store o' goods, and I was in there one evenin' adrinkin' tea along with him, and we got atalkin' about smugglin'. Says he, Mr. Slick, your people ruin the trad*- here, they do smuggle so ; I don't know as I ever shall be able to get rid of my stock of goods, and it cost me a considerable of a sum too. What a pity it is them navy people, instead of carryin' freights of money from the West Indgies, warn't employed more a protectin' of our fisheries and our trade. Why don't you smuggle then too, says I, and meet 'em in their own way? — tit for tat — diamond cut diamond — smuggle yourselves and seize them; — free trade and sailors' rights is our maxim. Why, says he, I ain't gist altogether certified that it's right ,* it goes agin' my conscience to do the like o' that are, and I must say I like a fair deal. In a gineral way a'most I'v observed what's got over the devil's back is commonly lost under his belly. It don't seem to wear well. Well, that's onconvenient, too, to be so thin skinned, said I; for conscience most commonly has a hide as thick as the soul of one's foot , vou mav cover it with leather to make it look decent-like, but it will Dear a considerable hard scrubbin' without any thmg ..isf'-: 136 THE CLOCKMAKER. l! 11 m 1 "■ Mi over it. Now, says I, I will put you on a track that wiE sarvo you without bringin' corns on your conscience cither. Do you gist pretend to smuggle and m;iko believe as if you vvero agoin' the whole hog in it. It's safer, and full out as profitable as the rael thing, and besides there's no sort o' risli in it in the world. VV^hen folks hear a thing is smuggled they always think it's cheap, and never look into the price ; they bite directly — it's a grand bait that. Now always onload your vessels at night, and let folks hear a cart agoin' intc your place atween two and three o'clock in the niornin' ; fix one o' the axles so it will squer^k like a pig, and do you look suspicious, mysterious, and oneasy. Says you, (when a chap says, I guess you were up late last night,) ax me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. There are so many pimpin' eyes about now, a body has to be cautious if he don't want to get into the centre of a hobble. If I'm up late I guess it's nobody's business but my own I'm about any how ; but I hope you won't make no remarks about what you seed or heerd. Well, when a feller axes arter a thing, do you gist stand and look at him for a space without sayin' a word, enquirin' like with a dubersum' look, as if you didn't know as you. could trust him or no ; then gist wink, put your finger on your nose, and say mum is the word. Take a candle and light it, and say, foUer me now, and take him into the cellar. Now, says you, friend, don't betray me, I beseech you, for your life ; don't let on to any one about this place ; — people will never think o' suspectin' me if you only keep dark about it. I'll let you see some things, says you, that will please you, I know ; but don't blow me — that's a good soul. This article, says you, atakin' up one that cost three pounds, I can aflbrd to let you have as low as five pounds, and that one as cheap as six pounds, on one condition, — but mind you, it's on them terms onlvj — and that is that you don't tell any one, not even your wife, where you got it ; but you must promise me on the word and honour of a man. The critter will fall right into the trap, and swear by all that's good he'll never breathe it to a livin' soul, and then go right off and tell his wife, and you might as well pour a thing into a filterin' stone as into a woman's ear It will riwi right thro', and she'll go a braggin' to her neigh hours of the bargain they got, and swear them to secrecy, and they'll tell the whole country in the same way, as a secret, of the cheap things Ichabod Gates has. Well, the excise folks A CURE rOR SMUGGLING. 13- ack that will wili soon hear o* this, and come and sarch your house iVorn lop to bottom, and tlio sarch will make your f<:)rtin', lor, as they can't Had notljin', you will get the credit of doin' tlio olliccrs in ':'reat style. VVcli, well, said Ichabod, if you Yankees don't beat all na- »,ur'. I don't believe in my sf)ul there's a critter in all Nova Scotia would athought o' such a scheme as that, but it's a grand joke, and comports with conscience, for it parallels pretty close with the truth: I'll try it. Try it, says I, to be sure; let's go right ofF this blessed night, imd hide away a j)arcel of your goods in the cellar, — put some in the gnrret and some in the gig-house. Begin and sell to-morrow, and all the time I'm to Liverpool I'll keep arunnin' in and out o' your house; sometimes I'll gist come to the corner of the fence, put my head over and draw it back ag'in as if I didn't want ibiks to see me, and sometimes I'll make as if I was agoin' out, and if I see any one acomin', I'll spring back and hide behind the door ; it will set the whole town on the look-out. — and they'll say it's me that's asmugglin' either on my own hook or yourn. In three days he had a great run o' custom, particularly arter night-fall. It was fun alive to see how the critters were bammed by that hoax. On the fifth day the tide-waiter came. Mr. Slick, says he, I've got information th Glad to hear it, says I ; an officer without information would be a poor tool — that's a fact. Well, it brought him up all standin'. Says he, do you know who you are atalkin' to? Yes, says I, guess I do ; I'm talkin* to a man of information ; and that bein' the case, I'll be so bold as to ax you one question, — have you any thing to say to me? for I'm in a considerable of a hurry. Yes, said he, I have. I'm informed you have smuggled goods in the house. Well, then, says I, you can say what many gallg can't boast on at any rate. What's that? says he. Why, says I, that you are wii.w-in formed. Mr. Gates, said he, give me a candle, I must go to the cellar, Sartainly, sir, said Ichabod, you may sarch where you please I've never smuggled yet, and I am not agoln' now to commence at my time of life. As soon as he got the candle, and was agoin' down to the cellar with Gates, I called out to Ichabod. Here, says I, Ich, run quick, for your life — novv's your time ; and off we ran up stairs as fast as we could leg it, and locked the door ; the sarcher heerin' that, up too and arter us hot i! I II! ! 138 TUB CLOCKMAKER. foot, and bust open the door. As soon as we heerd him adoiu of that, we out o' the other door and locked that also, and down the back stairs to where we started Iroin. Jt was some time albre he broke in the second door, and then he lollered us down, lookin' like a proper Ibol. I'll pay you up for this, said he to me. I hope so, said I, and Ichabod too. A pretty time o' day this, when Ibiks can tare and race over a decent man's house, and smash all afore him this way tor nothin', ain't it l Them doors you broke all to pieces will come to somethin', you may depend ; — a joke is a joke, but that« ne joke. Arter that he took his time, sarched the cellar, upper rooms, lower rooms, and garret, and found nothin' to seize; he was all cut up, and amazin' vexed, and put out. Says I, friend, if you want to catch a weasel you must catch hmi asleep ; now if you want to catch me asmugglin', rise con- siderable airly in the mornin', will you ? This story made Ichabod's fortin a'most : he had smuggled goods to sell fo' three years, and yet no cue could find him in the act, or tell where onder the sun he hid 'em away to. At last the secret leaked out, and it fairly broke up smugglin' on the whole shore. That story has done more nor twenty officers — that's a fact. There's nothin' a'most, said the Clockmaker, I like so much as to see folks cheat themselves. I don't know as I ever cheated a man myself in my life : I like to do things above board handsum', and go strait ahead ; but if a chap seems bent on cheatin' himself, I like to be neighbourly, and help him to do it. I mind once, when I was to the eastward of Halifax atradin', I bought a young horse to use while I gave Old Clay a run to grass. I do that most every fall, and it does the poor old critter a deal of good. He kinder seems to take a new lease every time, it sets him up so. Well, he was a most especial horse, but he had an infarnal temper, and it required all my knowledge of horse flesh to manage him. He'd kick, sulk, back, bite, refuse to draw, or run away, gist as he took "the notion. I mastered him, but it was gist as much as a bargain too ; and I don't believe, tho' I say it my- self, there is any other gentleman in the province could have managed him but me. Well, there was a parson livin' down there that took a great fancy to that horse. Whenever he seed me adrivin' by he always stopt to look at his action and gait, and admired him amazin'ly. Thinics I to myself, that [f A CURE FOR SMUaULINO. 130 'd him adoin lat also, and It was some 1 he fullered up for this, o. A pretty Dver a decent y ibr nothin', will come to but thats nc cellar, upper hin' to seize ; )ut. Says I, st catch him in', rise con- s story made Is to sell lb' le act, or tell ist the secret on the whole ITicers— that's like so much DW as I ever things above 1 chap seems I'ly, and help eastward of J while I gave •y fall, and it nder seems to Well, he was emper, and it manage him. in away, gist t was gist as r I say it my- ce could have »n livin' down Whenever he lis action and myself, that I Rian is inokilated — it'll break out soon — ho is dctnrmincd to cheat iiimself, and if he is, there is no help for it, as I see, but to let him. One day I was adriviii' out ut u most a duce of a size, and he stopped mc. Hallo! says he, Mr. Slick, ^\here are you agoin' in such a desperato hurry \ I want to speak a word to you. So I j)ulls up short. Mornin', says I, parson, how do you do to-day .' That's a very clever horse of yourn, says he. Middlin', says I ; he docs my work, but he's nclhin' to brag on ; he ain't gist equal to (3ld Clay, and 1 doubt if there's are a blue-nose horse that is either. Fine action that horse, said he. Well, says 1, people do say he has consider- able fine action, but that's better lor himself than me, for it makes him travel easier. How many miles will he trot in the hour? said he. Well, says I, if he has a mind to and is well managed, he can do fifteen handsum'. Will you sell him? said he. Well, said I, parson, I would sell him, but not to you ; the truth is, said I, smilin', I have a regard for ministers; the best friend I ever had was one, the reverend Joshua Hopewell, of Slickvillc, and 1 wouldn't sell a horse to one I didn't think would suit him. Oh ! said he, the horse would suit me exactly ; I like him amazin'ly : what's your price ? Filly pounds to any body else, said I, but fifty-five to you, parson, for I don't want you to have him at no price. If he didn't suit you, people would say I cheated you, and cheatin' a parson is, in my mind, pretty much of a piece with robbin' of a church. Folks would think considerable hard of me sellin' you a horse that warn't quite the thing, and 1 shouldn't blame them one morsel if they did. Why, what's the matter of him ? said he. Well, says I, minister, says I, alarfin' right out, every thing is the matter of him. Oh ! said he, that's all nonsense ; I've seen the horse in your hands often, and desire no better. Well, says I, he will run away with you if he gets a chance, to a sartainty. I will drive him with a curb, said he. He will kick, says I. I'll put a back strap on him, said he. He will go backwards faster than forward, said I. I will give him the whip and teach him better, says he. Well, says I, larfin' like any thing, he wont go at all sometimes. I'll take my chance of that, said he ; but you must take off that five pounds. Well, says I, parson, I don't want to sell you the horse — that's a fact ; but if you must have him I suppose you must, and I wil. subtract the five pounds on one condition, aiid 140 THE CLOCKMAKER. "MiTlii ¥ I \X I M imp. I! that IS, if you don't like the l)cast, you tell folks that you would have him, tho' I tried to set him out as bad as I could und said every tiling of him 1 could lay my tongue to. Well, Buys he, the horse is mine, and if he don't suit me, I acquit you of all blame. Well, he took the horse, and cracked and boasted most pro- digiously of him ; he said he wouldn't like to take a hundred pounds for him ; that he liked to buy a horse of a Yankee^ ibr they were such capital judges of horse flesh they hardly ever a'most had a bad one, and that he knew he was agoin' to get a first choj) one, tho moment he found I didn't want to sell him, and that he never saw a man so loath to part with a beast. Oh dear ! how I larfed in my sleeve when I heerd tell of the goney talkin' such nonsense : thinks I, he'll live to larn yet some things that ain't writ down in Latin afore he dies, or I'm mistakened — that's all. In the course of a few days the horse began to find he'd changed hands, and he thought he'd try what sort o' stuff his new master was made on ; so he gist took the bit in his mouth one fine mornin' and ran off with him, and kicked his gig all to flinders, and nearly broke the parson's neck ; and findin' that answer, he took to all his old tricks ag'in, and got worse than ever. He couldn't do nothin' with him, — even the helps were frightened out of their lives to go into the stable to him. So he come to me one day lookin' quite streaked, and says he, Mr. Slick, that horse I bought of you is a perfect divil ; 1 never saw such a critter in my life ; I can neither ride him nor drive him. He gist does what he pleases with us, and we can't help ourselves no how. He actilly beats all the onruly animals I ever seed in my life. Well, says I, I told you so, minister — I didn't want to sell him to you at all ; but you would have him. I know you did, said he ; but you larfed so all the time I thought you was in jeest. I thought you didn't care to sell him, and gist said so to put me off, jokin' like : I had no idee you were in airnest : I wouldn't give ten pounds for him. Nor I neither, said I ; I wouldn't take him as a gift, and be bound to keep him. How could you then, said he, have the conscience to ax me fifi;y pounds for him, and pocket it so coolly ? To prevent you from buyin' him, parson, said I, that was my reason. I did all I could for you ; I axed you five times as much as he was worth, and said all I could think on to run him dowa too; but you took yourself in A CURE FOR SMUGGLING. 141 s that you as I could 3 to. Well, ne, I acquit id most pro- e a hundred a Yankee, they hardly as ngoin' to want to sell part with a 1 1 hcerd tell I live to larn e he dies, or ow days the thought he'd 1 ; so he gist ran off with ly broke the k to all his i couldn't do out of their ed, and says :fect divil ; 1 ler ride him 1 us, and we the onruly told you so, all ; but you rou larfed so it you didn't okin' hke : I ten pounds lim as a gift, len, said he, and pocket parson, said you ; I axed d all I could yourself in There's two ways of tcllin' a thing, said he, Mr. Slick, — in airnest and in jeest. You told it as if you were in jcest, and 1 took "'t so; you may call it what you like, but I cull it a do- ceplion still. Parson, says I, how many ways you may have of tellia' a thing I don't know ; but I have only one, and that's the tiuc way : I told you the truth, but you didn't choose to believe it Now, says I, I feel kinder sorry for you loo but I'll tell you how to get out o' the scrape. 1 can't take him back, or folks would say it was me and not you that cheated yourself. Do you siiip him. You can't sell him here without doin' the fair thing, as I did, tellin' all his faults ; and if you do no soul would take him as a present, for people will believe you, iho' it seems they won't always believe a Clock- maker. Gist send him oil" to the West Indgies, and sell him at auction there for what he will fetch. He'll bring a good price, and if he gets into a rael right down genutcinc horse- man's liands, there's no better horse. He said nothin', but shook his head, as if that cat wouldn't jump. Now, says I, there's another bit of advice I'll give you free gratis for nothin', — never buy a horse on the dealer^s judg- ment^ or he will cheat you if he can ; never buy him on your own^ or you will cheat yourself as sure as you are born. In that case, said he, larfin', a man will be sure to be cheated cither way : how is he to guard ag'in bein' taken in, then? Well, says I, he stands a fair chance any way of havin' the leake put into him — that's sartain, for next to woman kind there is nothin' so deceitful as horse-flesh that ever I seed yet. Both on 'em are apt to be spoiled in the breakin* ; both on 'em puzzle the best judges sometimes to tell their age when well vamped up, and it takes some time afore you find out all their tricks. Pedigree must be attended to in both cases, particu- larly on the mother's side, and both require good trainin', a steady hand, and careful usage. Yes ; both branches require great experience, and the most knowin' ones do get bit some- limes most beautifully. Well, says he, as touchin' horses, how is a man to avoid being deceived ? Well, says I, Til tell you — never buy a horse of a total stranger on no account, — never buy a horse of a gentleman, for Why, said he^ he's the very man I should like to buy of, above all others. Well, then, says I, he's not the man for my money anyhow ; you think you are sale with him, and don't inquire enough, and take too much for granted : you are apt to cheat yourselC 21 • 142 TIIK CLOCKMAKER. 1;*!* in thnt case;. Never l)uy a crack horse ; he's done too much Never buy a colt ; hcj's done too little; you can't tell how he'll turn out. In short, says I, it's a considerable of a lon»» story to go all throuuh with it ; it would take nie h.ss time tn leach you how to make a clock, I calculate. If you buy jrom a man who ain't a dealer, he actilly don't know whether his horse is a i^ood one or not ; you must get advice from a friend who does knr a nioment. It's a grand spectacle, — it's the voice of natur' in the wilder- ness, proclaimin' to the untutored tribes thereof the power and majesty and glory of God. It is consecrated by the visible impress of the great invisible architect. It is sacred ground — a temple not made by hands. It cannot be viewed without fear and trcmblin', nor contemplated without wonder and awe. It proclaims to man, as to Moses of old, " Draw not nigh hither, put off thy shoes from olf thy feet, for the place where thou standcst is lioly ground." Ho who appeared in a flamo of fire in the bush, and the bush was not consumed, appears also in the rush of water, and the water diminishes not. Talk not to mo of mills, factories, and machinery, sir, nor of intro- ducin' the money-changers into the temple of the Lord. Talk not. — You needn't go, said I, minister, for to work yourself up that way ag'in me, I do assure you, for I didn't mc«'m to say anything out o' the way at all, so come now. And now you do mention it, says I, it does seem kinder grand-like — • that are great big lake does seem like an everlastin' large milk pan with a lip for pourin' at the falls, and when it docs fall head over heels, all white froth and spray like Phc&be's sylla- bub, it does look grand, no doubt, and it's nateral for a minister to think on it as you do ,* but still for all that, for them that ain't preachers, I defy most any man to see it without thinkin' of a cotton mill. Well, well, said he, awavin' of his hand ; say no more about It, and he walked into his study and shut to the door. Ho warn't like other men, minister. He was full of crotchets that way, and the sight of the sea, a great storm, a starry sky, or even a mere flower, would make him fly rif^ht off* at the handle that way when you warn't a thinkin' on it at all ; and yet foi all that he was the most cheerful critter I ever seed, and nothin' a'most pleased him so much as to see young folks enjoyin' themselves as merry as crickets. He used to say that youth, innocence, and cheerfulness was what was meant by the three graces. It was a curious kink, too, he took about them falls, 144 THE CLOCKMAKER. pj* . JS warn't it ? for, artcr all, atween you and me, it's nothin' bu. a river taken over a cliff full split, instead of runnin' down hill the old way : — I never hear tell of 'em 1 don't think of that tantrum of him. Our factories in New England are one of the best fruits of the last war, squire, said he ; they are actilly worth seein'. I know I have reason to speak well of 'em any how, for it was them gave me my first start in life, and a pleasant start it was too, as well as a profitable one. I spent upwards of a year there among the galls, atakin' of them off in the portrait line, and in that time 1 cleared three hundred pounds of your money good : it warn't so bad that, was it ? When I was down to Rhode Island larnin' bronzin', gildin', and sketchin' for the clock business, I worked at odd times for the Honourable Eli Wad, a foundationalist — a painting for him. A foundationalist, said I ; what is that? — is it a religious sect 1 No, said he, it's a bottom maker. He only made bottoms, he didn't make arms and legs, and he sold those wooden bottoms to the chair-makers. He did 'em by a sarcu- lar saw and a turnin' lathe, and he turned 'em off amazin' quick ; he made a fortin' out of the invention, for he shipped 'em to every part of the Union. The select men objected to liis sign of bottom maker ; they said it didn't sound pretty, and he altered it to foundationalist. That was one cause the speck turned out so well, for every one that seed it a'most stopt to inquire what it meant, and it brought his patent into great vogue; many's the larf folks had over that sign, 1 tell vou. So, said he, when I had done, Slick, said he, you've a con siderable of a knaclr with the brush, it would be a grand speck for you to go to Lowell and take off the factory ladies : you know what the women are, — most all on 'cm will want to have their likeness taken. The whole art of portrait paintin', says he, as far as my observation goes, lies in a free sketch of the leadin' featur.' Give it good measure: do vou take? No, says I, I don't ondcrstand one word of it. Well, says he, what [ mean is this ; see what the lea«Jin' feature in, and exaggerate that, and you have a striking likeness. If the nose is largo, gist make it a little more so; if t}\rrc is a slight cast o' the eye, give it a squint ; a strong line in the face, deepen it ; a big mouth, enlarge it ; a set smile, make it B smirk ; a high cheek bone, square it out well. Reciprocate TAKING OrP THE FACTORY LADIES. 145 3 nothin* bu. •unnin' down 3n't think of best fruits of worth secin'. y how, for it pleasant start upwards of a n the portrait unds of your nzin', gildin', odd times for painting for I it a religious e only made he sold these tn by a sarcu- n ofl' amuzin' or he shipped pn objected to sound pretty, one cause tlie seed it a' most is patent into er that sign, you've a con d be a grand actory ladies : n will want to rtrait paintin', a free sketch do you take ] V\^eri, says he, bat u re is, and mess. If the If re is a slight e in the face, mile, make it Reciprocate '.his by paintin' the rest o' the face a little handsomer, and you have it complete : you'll never fail — there's no mistake. J)ead colorin', with lots of varnish, will do for that market, and six dollars a piece for the pictur's is about the fair deal for tlie price. If you don't succeed, I will give you my head for a foot-ball. You'll hear 'em all say, Oh ! that's her nose to a hair, — that's her eye exactly ; you could tell that mouth anywhere, that smile you could swear to as far as you can see it, — it's a'most a beautiful likeness. She's taken off com- plete — it's as nateral as life. You could do one at a sittin', or six a week, as easy as kiss my hand, and I'm athinkin' you'd find it answer a good eend, and put you in funds for a start in die clock line. But, Sam, says he, aputtin' of his hand on my shoulder, tnd lookin' me strong in the face, mind your eye, my boy , mind you don't get tangled in the deep sea grass, so you can't clear hand or foot. There are some plaguy pretty galls there, and some on 'em have saved a considerable round sum too ; don't let 'em walk into you now afore you know where you be. Young gentlemen are scarce in New England, sweet- hearts ain't to be had for love nor money, and a good-lookin' fellow like you, with five hundred pair of pretty little good- natured longin' eyes on him, is in a fair way o' gettin' his flint fixed, I tell you. Marriage won't do for you, my hearty, till you've seed the world and made somethin' handsum'. To marry for money is mean, to marry without it is folly, and to marry both young and poor is downright madness ; so hands off, says you ; love to all, but none in partikilar. If you find yourself agettin' spooney, throw brush, pallet, and paint over the falls, and off full split ; change of air and scene to cure love, consumption, or the blues, must be taken airly in the disease, or it's no good. An ounce o' prevention is worth a pound o' cure. Recollect, too, when you are married, you are tied by the leg, Sam ; like one of our sodger disarters, you have a chain adanglin' to your foot, with a plaguy heavy shot to the eend of it. It keeps you to one place most all the time for you can't carry it with you, and you can't leave it behind you, and you can't do nothin' with it. If you think you can trust yourself, go ; if not, stay where you be. It's a grand school, tho', Sam ; you'll know some- thin' of human natur' when you leave Lowell, I estimate, for ihe/'ll lam vou how to cut your eye-teeth them galls youMl '5! 146 T JE CLOCKMAKER* ,1 see how wonderful the wuys of woman-kind is, for they do heat all — that's snrt.iiii. Well, down 1 went lo Lowell, and artor a day or two s|)ent a vi.sitiii' tlu; factories, and gettin' introduci'd lo llie linlics, I took a room and sot up my easel, and 1 IkhI as miu-lj woijc as ever I (-oiild elevcrl) turn my hand to. iMosl every ijall in the place had her likeness taken; some wanted 'em to stiid to home, some to giv(; to a sweet* heart to admire, and some to hauif up to admire themsi'lves. The b<3st of the joke was, every ij,all had an excuse lor beiii' there. They all seemed ;is if they thought it warn't quite genteel, a little too much in the help style. One said she came lor the benefit of the lectur's at the Lyceum, another to carry a little sister to dancin' school, and a third to assist the fund for Ibreign missions, and so on, but none on 'em to work. Some on 'em lived in large buildings l)elongin' to the factory, and others in little cottages — three or four in a house. I recollect two or three days arter I arrived, 1 went to call on Miss Naylor, I knew down to tSiiuantum, and she axed me to come and drink tea with her and the two ladies that lived with her. So in the even in' I put on my bcttermost clothes and went down to tea. This, says she, introducin' of me to the ladies, is Mr. Slick, a natiye artist of great promise, and one that is self-tauuht too, that is come to take us off; and this is Miss Jemima Potts of Milldam, in Umbagog; and this is Miss Binah Dooly, a lady from Indgian Scalp, Varmont. Your sarvant, ladies, says I ; 1 hopo I see you well. Beautiful fac- tory this, it whips English all holler; our free and enlightened citizens have exhibited so much skill, and our intelligent and enterprisin' ladies, says I, (with a smile and a bow to each,) so much science and taste, that 1 reckon we might stump tlia univarsal world to ditto Lowell. It sartainlv is one of the wonders of tlie world, says Miss Jemima Potts • it is astonish- ing how jealous the English are, it makes 'em so ryled they can't bear to praise it at all. There was one on 'em agoin' thro' the large cotton factory to-day with Judge Beler, and, says the Judge to him, now don't this astonish you 1 said he ; don't it exceed any idea you could have formed of it? you must allow there is nothin' like it in Europe, and yet this is only in it's infancy — it's only gist begun. Come now, confess the fact, don't vou feel that the sun of England is set for ever ?-— her glory departed to set up its standard in the new world 1 Speak candidly now, for I should like to hear what you think- ! :„l: TAKIffO Orr THB rACTOHY LADIES. 147 1 It certainly is a respectable effort for a young country with n ihin population, said he, and a limited capital and is credita- ble to tli(? skill and enterprise of New England ; but as for rivalry, it's wholly out of the question, and he looked as niad us if ho coidd aswallered a wild-eat alive. Well, wrll, said the Jud^^e, larfin', I'or he is a sweet-tempered, dear man, and the polit«'st one too I ever knew, I don't altogetber know as it is gist fair to ask you to admit a fact so iiumblin' to your national pride, and so mortilyin' to your Icelins' as an En- glishman; but I can easily conceive how thunderstruck you must have been on enterin' this town at its prodigious power, its great capacity, its wonderful promise. It's generally allow- ed to be the first thing of the kind in the world. But what are you alookin' at, Mr. Slick? said she; is there any tiling on my cheek? I was op'y athinkin', says I, how dillicult it would be to paint such a'mosta beautiful complexion, to infuse into it the soilness and richness of natur's colorin' ; I'm most afeerd it would be beyond my art — that's a fact. Ob, you artists do (latter so, said she ; tho' flattery is a part of your profession I do believe; but I'm e'en a'most sure there is somethin' or another on my face, — and she got up and looked into the glass to satisfy herself. It would a' done you good, squire, to see how it did satisfy her too. How many of the ladies have you taken off? said Miss Dooly. I have only painted three said I, yet; but I have thirty bespoke. How would you like to be painted, said I, miss ? O'l a white horse, said she, accompanyin' of my father, the general, to the review. And you, saif' ' Miss Naylor? Astudyin' Judge Naylor, my uncle's specime.jo, said she, in the library. Sayg Miss Jemima, I should like to be taken off in my brother's barge. What is he ? said I, for he would have to have his uniform on. He? said she; — why, he is a — and she looked away and coloured up like anything — he's an officer, sir, said she, in one of our national ships. Yes, miss, said I, I know that ; but officers are dressed accordin' to their grade, you know, in our sarvice. We must give him the right dress. What is his grade? The other two ladies turned round and giggled, and miss Jemima hung lown her head and looked foolish. Says Miss Naylor, why don't you tell him, dear? No, says she, I won't; do you tell him. No, indeed, said Miss Naylor, he is not my brother : you ought to know best what he is ; — do you tell him yourself. Oh, you know very well, Mr. Slick, ,4;. k- -i] 148 TUB CLOCKMAKEK. il!'l: ' m- «aid she, only you make as if you didn't, to poke fun at m© and muko me say it. I hope I may be shot if I do, says I, miss ; I never hcerd tell of him aforn^ and if he is an officer in our navy, there is one thing I can tell you, says I, you needn't be ashamed to call one of our naval heroes your brother, nor to tell his grade neither, for there ain't au offico in the sarvice that ain't one of honour and glory. The British can whip all the world, and we can whip the British. Well, says she, alookin' down and takin' up her handker- chief, and turnin' it eend -for eend to read the marks in the corner of it, to see if it was hern or not, — if I must, then 1 suppose I must ; he's a rooster swain then, but it's a shame to make me. A rooster swain ! says I ; well, I vow I never heerd that grade afore in all my born days ; I hope I may die if I did. What sort of a swain is a rooster swain ? How you do act, Mr. Slick, said she ; ain't you ashamed of your- self? Do, for gracious sake, behave, and not carry on so like Old Scratch. You are goin' too far now ; ain't he. Miss Naylor? Upon my word 1 don't know what you mean, said Miss Naylor, affectin' to look as innocent as a female fox ; I'm not used to sea-tarms, and I don't onderstand it no more than he does ; and Miss Dooly got up a book, and began to read and rock herself backward and forward in a chair, a» regilar as a Mississippi sawyer, and as demure as you please. Well, thinks I, what onder the sun can she mean ? for I can't make head or tail of it. A rooster swain ! — a rooster swain ! says I ; do tell Well, says she, you make me feel quite spunky, and if you don't stop this minnit, I'll go right out of the room ; it ain't fair to make game of me so, and I don't thank you for it one mite or morsel. Says I, miss, I beg your pardon ; I'll take my davy I didn't menu no offence at all ; but, upon my word and honour, I never heerd the word rooster swain afore, and I don't mean to larf at your brother or tease you neither. Well, says she, I suppose you never will ha' done, so turn away your face and I will tell you. And she got up and turned my head round with her hands to the wall, and the other too ladies started out, and said they'd go and ■ee arter the tea. Well, says I, are you ready now, miss ? Yes, said she ;^ a rooster swain, if you must know, you wicked critter you, is a cockswain ; a word you know'd well enough warn't fit for a lady to speak : so take that to remember it by,- -and she i TAKING Orr THE FACTORY LADIES. 149 :o fun at me do, says I, is an officer says I, you berocs youi in't au office The British ish. ler handker- larks in the must, then 1 it's a shame vow I never pe I may die ain ? How ed of your- carry on so n't he. Miss ] mean, said female fox ; d it no more nd began to a chair, aa you please. for I can't )ster swain ! ne feel quite right out of and I don't I beg your nee at all ; vord rooster ler or tease irer will ha' And she to the wall, y'd go and said she ;^ tter you, is arn't fit for ',- -and shs fetched me a douce of a clip on tlio sido of the face, and ran out of the room. VVoll, I swear I could hardly kfcp from larfin' right out, to fuid out artcr all it was nutiiin' but a cox- swain she made such a touss about ; but I felt kinder sorry, too, to have bothered her so, for I recollect there was the same difficulty among our huVu <. last war about the name of the English officer that took Washington ; they called him alwaya the " British Admiral," and there warn't a lady in the Union would call him by name. I'm a great friend to deconry, — a very great friend indeed, squire, — for decency is a manly vartue ; and to delicacy, for delicacy is a feminine vartue ; but as for squeamishness, rat me if it don't make mc sick. There was two little rooms behind the keepin' room ; one was a pantry, and t'other a kitchen. It was into the fard('st one the ladies went to get tea ready, and presently they brought in the things and sot ilvnn down on the table, and wo all iiot sociable once more. Gist as we beuan conversation o ag m. Miss Jemima Potts said she must go and bring in the cream jug. Well, up I jumps, and follers her out, and says I, pray let me, miss, wait upon you ; it ain't fair for the ladies to do this when the gentlemen are by, — is it I Why didn't you call on me ? I overtook her gist at the kitchen door. But this door-way, said I, is so plaguy narrer, — ain't it? There's hardly room for two to pass without their lips atouchin', is there? Ain't you ashamed? said she; I believe you have broke my comb in two, — that's a fact ; — but don't do that ag'in, said she, awhisperin', — that's a dear man ; Miss Dooly will hear you, and tell every lady in the factory, for she's plaguy jealous ; — so let me pass now. One more to make friends, said I, miss. Hush I said she, — there — let me go ; and she put the jug in my hand, and then whipped up a plate herself, and back in the parlour in no time. A curtain, says I, ladies, (as I sot down ag'in,) or a book- shelf, 1 could introduce into the pictur', but it would make it a work o' great time and expense, to do it the way you speak of; and besides, said I, who would look at the rest if the face was well done ? for one thing, I will say, three prettier faces never icas seen painted on canvass. Oh, Mr. Slick, says they, now you bam ! — ain't you ashamed ? Fact, says I, ladies, upon my honour: — a fact, and no mistake. If you would allow me, ladies, said I, to suggest, I think hair done up high, long tortoise-shell comb, with floweis on tho top, would become t"j 150 THE CLOCKMAKER. 'j'i.Mn .„■.,. h M you, Miss Naylor, and set off your fine Grecian face grand. A fashionable morniii' cap, lined with pink, and trimmed with blue bows, would set off your portrait. Miss Dooly, and become your splendid Roman profile complete. And what for me? said Jemiir i. If I might be so bold, said I, I would advise ieavin' out the coiub in your case, miss, said I, as you are tall, and it nnght perhaps Ikj in the way, and be broke in two, (and I pressed her foot onder :he table with mire ;) and 1 would throw the hair into long loose nateral curls, and let the neck and shoulders be considerable bare, to give room for a pearl necklace, or coral beads, or any little splendid ornament of that kind. — Miss .lemima looked quite delighted at this idea, and, jumpin' up, exclaimed. Dear me, said she, I forgot the sugar-tongs! I'll gist go and fetch 'em. Allow me, says I, miss, follerin' her; but ain't it funny, tho', says I, too, that we should gist get scroudged ag'in in this very identical littlo narrer door-way, — ain't it ? How you act, said she ; now this is too bad ; that curl is all squashed, 1 declare; I won't come out ag'in to-night, I vow. Nor 1 neither then, said I larfin ; let them that wants things go for 'cm. Then you couldn't introduce the specimens, could you ? said Miss Naylor. The judge, my uncle, has a beautiful collection. — When he was in business as a master-mason, he built the great independent Democratic Sovereignty Hall at Sam Patchville, (a noble buildin' that, Mr. Slick, — it's gincrally allowed to be the first piece of architecture in the world.) He always broke off a piece of every kind of stone used in the building, and it makes a'most a complete collection. If I could be taken off at a table astudyin' and asortin' 'em into primary formations, secondary formations, and trap, I should like it amazin'ly. Well, says I, I'll do the best I can to please you, miss, foi I never hear of secondary formations without pleasure, — that's a fact. The ladies, you know, are the secondary formation, for they were formed arter man, and as for trap, says I, if they ain't up to that, it's a pity. Why, as I'm alive, said I, if that ain't the nine o'clock bell : well, how time has flowed, hasn't it ? I suppose I must be amovin', as it is gettin' on considerable late, but I must say I've had a most delightful evenin' as ever I spent in my life. When a body, says I, finds himself in a circle of literary and scientific ladies, he takes no n^te of time, it passes so smooth and quick. Now, says I, iadies excuse me for mentionin' a little bit of business, but il TAKiiva orr the factory ladies. 151 she ; now this A usual in my profession to l)c paid one-halt" in advance , but with the Ifulios I dispense with thjit rule, suys I, on one con- dition, — I receive a i i, Old England is as blind as a bat, and Hluc-nosc is a puppy »n.y nine days old ; he can't see yet. If the critter was well I -tincd, hud his ears cropped and tongue wormed, he might lui'n out a docent-lookin' whelp yet, for the old one is a good nurse and feeds well. Well, then, look at the lead, cop|K;r, slute, (and as for slate, they may slump W^ules, 1 know, to pro duce the .like,) granite, grindstone, freestone, lime, manganese, suit, sulphur. Why, they've got everything but enterprise, and that I do believe in my soul they expect to find a min* of, and dig up out of the ground as they do coal. But the soil, squire, where will you find the like o' that ? A considerable part of it alqng the coast is poor, no doubt ; but it's the fishin' side of the province, and therefore it's all right ; but the bay side is a tcarin', rippin' fine country. Them dyke mushes have raised hay and grain year arter year now for a whole centcry without manure, and I guess will continue to do so from July to etarnity. Then natur' has given them that sea- mud, salt sand, sea weed, and river sludge for dressin' their upland, so that it could be made to carry wheat till all's blue again. If it possesses all these advantages you speak of, said I, it will doubtless be some day or another both a populous and rich country ; but still it docs not appear to me that it can be compared to the country of the Mississippi. Why, squire, said he, if you was once to New Orleens, I think you wouldn't say so. That is a great country, no doubt, too great to com- pare to a small province like this; great resources, great river, fertile land, great trade ; but the climate is awful, and the emigrant people ain't much better than the climate. The folks at New Orleens put me in mind of children playing in a churchyard, jumpin' over the graves, hidin' behind the tombs, n larfin' at the emblems of mortality, and the queer old rhymes under 'em, all full of life, and glee, and fun above ground, while onderneath it is a great charnel-house, full of winding sheets, skeletons, and generations of departed citizens. That are place is built in a bar in the harbor, made of sno&a. THE SCHOOLMASTER AUROAD. 157 it*8 the phi* it turns all it takes to of men it h of sailors Id England 3 is a puppy er was well I, he might c is a good :ad, copiKsr, low, to pro manganese, enterprise, d a miti> )f, lut the soil, considerable *s the fishin' but the bay yke mashes for a whole uc to do so ;m that sea- rcssin' their ill all's blue of, said I, it opulous and lat it can be r^hy, squire, ou wouldn't real to com- rces, great awful, and mate. The claying in a d the tombs, e queer old 1 fun above »usc, full of ted citizens. de of snogs. drift-wood, and chokes, heape«l up by the river, and then filled and covered with the sediuicut and alluvial of the ncli bottoms above, brought down by the freshets. It's peopled in the same way. The eddies and tides of business of all that country centre there, and the froth and scum are washed up and setl'e at No'W Orleens. It's filled with all sorts of people, bla4'f l^ inan^s thnt ; very kind to poor Indj^lan (N\ln»n that man go to nravcii, (Jod will ^iv(^ him plmty Imcky to smoko, for thai 1 Kiiow.) — W(!ll, ho say, I'efcr I'aid, when you want ash-tree, you ^o cut Vrn down oi» my land wlieii you like ; I ^\\v, you leave. lie very ^ood man leasant one. When we returned to Halifax wo drove to Mrs. Spiccr's hoarding-liouse, where I hact a crittrr of llio rij^ht mf?ttlc; 8|>int<;(i, yrt j^nillc; cMsy «>ii tin; l>if, siirc-fooU d and spry ; no bitin', or kitrkin', or sulkin', or raciu' oil', or rcl'iisin' to go or runnin' back, and thrn cKiin-linilHil and ^ood carriugt;. Wt about the dillK'uitc.st picct; of btKsiucsH I know on. Our grout cities are most the only |)la(«'.s in our Union where a man may marry with (-omfort, raci rii^ht down ^r;nu- t/if condort and no drawback. No f'arnishin' a bouse; and if you ii,^> lor t«) |(lc.-is(; a woman in tbiit line, there's no ecnd o' the expense IbeyMI |;o to, and ho trouble about helps; a considerable of a plague them in the States, you may depend; then you ^ot notbin' to provicb;, and notbin' to see arter, and it ain't so plaguy lonely as a private Iioum- neither. The ladies, too, havt; nothin' to do all day but dress themselv(;s, gossip, walk out, or ^o ashoppin', or receive visits to home. They hav(! a'most a «^ranr ; upon my vort ajid honour and sole, nolhin' liappencjd, only 1 had no gimbUft. Het is jammer; it is a pify. 1 went to sec the bahy, said Mrs. Sproul, — as(jbbin' ready to kill herself, poor thing ! — and VVell, I don't want, nor have occasion, nor require a nurse, said Zwi(dv«.'r. — And I mistook tlu! room, said she, and come here athinkin' it was ourn. Couldn't |)e possible, said he, to take nie for te pa|)y, dat lias papys hisself, — but it was to ruin my character, and name, and reputation. Oh, Goten Hymel ! what will Vrou Zwicker t-ay to dis wotiman's tale? but then she knowd I had no «:iml)let, she did. Folks snickered and larfed a j^ood deal, 1 t<'ll you ; but they soon cleared out and went to bed a^'in. The story ran all over Boston like wild fire; nothin' else a'most was talki.'d of; and like most stories, it grew worse and worse every day. Zwicker returned next mornin' to Albany, and has never been to Boston since; and the Sprouls kept close for some time, and then moved away to the W(!stern territory. I actilly b<;lievo they changed their name, for J, never heerd tell of any one that ever seed them since. Mr. Slick, says Zwicker, the mornin' he started, I have ono leetle gimblet ; I always travel with my leetlc gimblet ; take it mid me wherever I go ; and when I goes to ped, I takes my leetle gimblet out and bores wid it over de latch of de toor, and dat fastens it, and keeps out do tief and de villain and do womans. I led it to home dat time mid the old vrou, and it was all because I had no gimblet, de row and te noise and to rumpush wash made. Tam it ! said he, Mr. Slick, 'tis no use talkin', but tore is always de tcyvil to pay when there is a woman and no gimblet. Yes, said the Clockmaker, if they don't mind the number of the room, they'd better stay away, — but a little attention that way cures all. We are all in a hurry in the States; we eat in a hurry, drink in a hurry, and sleep in a hurry. Wo all go ahead so fast it keeps ono full spring to keep up with others , and one must go it hot foot, if he wants to pass his neighbours. Now, it is a great comfort to have your dinner lo the minute, as you dc at a boardiii'-house, when you are m 168 THE CLOCKMAKER. a hurry — only you must look out shnrp artcr the dishes, of you won't get notiiin'. Things vanish like wink. I recollect once when quails first came in that season ; there was an old chap at IVep's boardin'-house, that used to take the whole dish of 'em, empty it on his plate, and gobble 'em up iikc a turkeycock, — no one ered and marked, to put together, 'cause there's no timhcr in America, nor carpenters neitlu-r ? Didn't you order the Yankee pris. oners to be kept at the fortress of Louishurg, which was so levelled to the ground filly years before that folks can hardly t(!ll where it stood? Han't you squandered more money to liermuda than would make a military road from Halifax to Quelx^'C, make the Windsor railroad, and complete the great canal? Han't you built a dockyard there that rots all the cordage and stores as fast as you send them out there ? and han't you to send these things every year to sell to Halilax, 'cause there ain't folks enoujjh to Bermuda to make an auction ? Don't you send out a squadron every year of seventy. fours, frigates, and sloops of war, and most work 'em to death, sendin' em' to Bermuda to winter 'cause it's warm, and to Halifax to summer, 'cause its cool; and to carry freights of doubloons and dollars from the West Indgies to England, *cause it pays well ; while the fisheries, coastin' trade, and revenue are left to look out for t'icmselves? Oh, if you don't beat all, it's a pity I Now, what in natur' is the use of them are great seventy, fours in peace time in that station ? Half the sum of money one of them are everlastin' almighty monsters cost would equip a dozen spankin' cutters, commanded by leftenants in the navy, (and this I will say, though they be Britishers, a smarter set o' men than they be never stept in shoe-leather,) and they'd Boon set thcso mutters right in two twos. Them seventy-fours put me in mind o' Black Hawk, the great Indgian chief, that was to Washin'ton lately ; he had an alligator tattooed on thti back part of .TiS thigh, and a raccoon on t'other, touched olf .o the very nines, and as nateral as any thing you ever scH'd m your life; and well he know'd it too, for he was as proud of it as any thing Well, the president, and a whole rail of '.m: nifDiivu A mark's nkst. 171 ul complaints It tiic nrmistei Slav at litiinc, , fur it unswera ire pretty eon- •stordav, 1 tell lare's nest oi filterin'-stonea )idirt you send iuiinlx;rcd and cr in America, ! Yankee pris. which was so ks ean hardly iiorc money to iin I la li lax to )lcte the f^reat at rots all th«! )ut there ? and L>ll to I la I i lax, ikc an auction ? scventv-lburs, 'em to death, warm, and to ry freights of s to England, in' trade, and h, if you don't ^reat seventy- sum of money >st would equip enants in the lers, a smarter ,) and they'd seventy- fours ian chief, that atiooed on tho r, touched otf you ever seed was as proud whole rail of •enntors, and a considcrahle nf an assrirtnicnf of most hoautj. ful ladies, went all over the cii|)it(il with hiiii. show in' him the great hiiililiii's, inid public halls, and curiusiiies, patents, pre* bents, and what not; hut Hlack lia\sk, he took no notice of nothiii' a'niost till he cam»' to the pi.tur's of our great naval and military heroes, and splcnilid national victories of our free nml enlightened citi/ciis, and tlwm hec/ici stare at ; they posed him considerable — that's a fact. Well, warrior, said the president, aruhbin' of liis hands, and asmilin', what do you think ef them ? Hroder, said Black Hawk, them grand, them live, »'.nd breathe and sp<'ak — th«'m great pictures I tell you^ vt ry great indeed, but 1 got Intter ones, said he, and he turned round, and stoojx.'d down, and drew up his mantle over hi^ head. Look at that alligator, hroder, said Ik*, and he struck it with his hand till he made all ring again; and that racoon Iwhind there; hcan'tfliey splendid? Oh ! it" there warn't u shout, it's a pity ! The men haw-hawed right out like thunder, and the women ran oil", and screamed like mad. Did you ever! said ihey. How ondecent ! ain't it shocking? and then they screamed out ag'in louder than afore. Oh dear I said they, if that nasty, horrid thing ain't in all the mirrors in the room ! and they put their pretty little hands up to their dear little eycjs, and raced right out into the street. The presi(l(>nt he saunped, and bit his lip, and looked as mad as if he could have swallowe-d a wild eat alive. Cuss him! said he, I've half a mind to kick him into the Potomac, the savage brute ! I shall never hear the last of this joke. 1 fairly thought I should have split to sec the conflustrigation it put 'em all into. Now, that's gist the way with your seventy-fours. When the Blue-noses grumble that we Van- kecs smuggle like all vengeance, and have all the fisheries on the coast to ourselves, you send 'em out a great seventy-four with a painted starn for 'em to look at, and it is gist about as much use as the tattooed starn of Black Hawk. 1 hope I may be shot if it ain't. Well, then, gist see how you True, said I, glad to put a stop to the enumeration of ou blunders, but government have added sonni new vessels to the packet line of a very superior description, and will with- draw the old ones as soon as possible. These changes are very expensive, and cannot be ellJ'ctcd in a moment. Yes, said he, so I have heerd tell ; and I have heerd, too, that the new ones won't lay to, and the old ones won't scud ; grand W t j->8 THE CLOCKMAKER. Wf:' chance m a gale for a feller that, ain't it ? One tumbles ove< in the trough of the sea, and the other iius such great solid buU warks, if she ships a sea, she never gets rid of it but by goin' down. Oh, you British are up to every thing! it wouldn't bo easy to put a wrinkle on your horns, I know. They will, at least, said I, with more pique than prudence, last as long as the colonies. It is admitted on all hands now, by Tories, Whigs, and Radicals, that the time is not fur distant when the pro- vinces will be old enough for independence, and strong enough to demand it. I am also happy to say that there is every dis position to yield to their wishes whenever a majority shall concur in applying for a separation. It is very questionable whether the expense of their protection is not greater than any advantage we derive from them. That, said the Clockmaker, is what I call, now, good sound sense. I like to hear you talk that way, for it shows you participate in the enlightenment of the age. After all the expense you have been to in conquerin', clearin', settlin', for- tifyin', governin', and protectin' these colonies, from the timo they were little miserable spindlin' seedlin's up to now, when they have grow'd to be considerable stift' and strong, and of some use, to give 'em up, and encourage 'em to ax for 'man- cipation, is, I estimate, the part of wise men. Yes, I see you are wide awake. Let 'em go. They are no use to you. Hut, I say, squire — and he tapped me on the shoulder, and winked, — let 'em look out the next mornin' arter they are free for a visit from us. If we don't put 'em thro' their facin's it's a pity. Tho' they are no good to you, they are worth a Jew's eye to us, and have 'em we will, by gum ! You pui, me in mind of a British Parliament-man tliat was travellin' in the States once. I seed him in a steamboat on the Ohio, (a'most a grand river that, squire ; if you were to put all the English rivers into one you couldn't make its ditto,) and we went the matter of seven hundred miles on it till it jincd the IMississippi. As soon as we turned to go down thtit river he stood, and stared, and scratched his lu.'nd, like bewildered. Says he, this is very strang(> — very strange in- deed, says he. What's strange? said I; but he went on with- out hearin'. It's the greattst curiosity, snid he, 1 ever seed, a nateral ph:!nomen6n, one of the wonders of the world ; and he jumped light up and down like a ravin' distracted fool Whsro is it, said he. What the d — 1 has become of it? If FI.VDINO A mare's nest. 173 tumbles ove< rcat solid buU it but by goin* it wouldn't bo They will, at ns long as the ""ories, Whigs, when the pro- strong enough e is every dis majority shall y quostionablo t greater than w, good sound it shows you After all the i', settlin', for- from the timo » to now, when strong, and of ax for 'man- Yes, I see you 3 to you. Hut, r, and winked, y arc free for eir facin's it's worth a Jew's •man tliat was steamboat on you were to lake its ditto,) OS on it till it no down that lis head, like ry strange in* went on \\\l\\- Vf 1 ever seed, ic world ; and ist ranted fool me of it ? If »/s your wit, said I, you arc alookiu' for, it's gone a wool- gatherin' more nor half an hour ago. W'jiat on airth aili you, says I, to make you act so like; Old Serateh that way? Do, for goodness sake, look hero, Mr. Slick ! said he. That immense river, the Ohio, that we have been sailin' upon so many days, where is it? Where is it! said I. Why it's run into the Mississippi here to l)e sure; where else should it 1h;? or did you think it was like a snake that it curled its head under its own belly, juid run back again.' liut, said ho, the Mississippi arn't uiadc one inch higher or one inch wider by it; it don't swell it one mite or morsel ; U's marvellous, aint it! Well, gist afurc that, we had been talking about the colonies ; so, says I, I cmi tell you a more marvellous thing than that by a long chalk. There is Upp^r Canada, and Lower Canada, and New Pirimswick, and Nova Scotia, and ('ap(; IJri'ton, and I^rincft Ivlward's Island, and N<'wroinidlanral hymn he'll sing over the turnpikes. When 1 was to England last, I aUvays i H that w?ien I was in a hurry, and it put coachee into such a passion, he'd turn to and lick his horses out o' spite into a lull gallop. D — n 'em, he'd say, them that sanctioned them rail- roads, to ruin the 'pikes, (get along, you lazy willain, Char- FINDING A MARES NEST. 176 Gist &o ocean of rail of icu you'd the gills 3stcr, and i like cut- on't blow mcs ; and otf afore ulviut six witliorcd, , unless it 1 sight to \v r«)ots, it The Ivju- a colony, nd look as rid. e call tho drcd acres attle, and not, whore c i up ? and )ol ran off ore, ax the nks of the I sin*; over ilways I "1 nto such a ; into a full them rail, lain, Char- .cy, and he'd lay it into the wheeler,) they ought to he hanged, sir, (that's the ticket, and he'd whop thve shall all come to vet I Come to, savs I : whv, to be, a Btoker to he sure; that's what all you coachmen will eenti \\\ at last, as sure as you are born. A stoker, sir, s;ua lu\ (lookin' as bothered as if it wor a French furriner that word,) what the d — 1 is that .' Why, a stoker, says I, is a critter tnat draws, and stirs, and pokes the fire of a steam-emfin'. I'd sooner di(j fu'st, sir, said lie ; I would, d — n me, if 1 wouldn't! Only think of a man of tuy a;j;e and si/e bein' u stoker, sir; I wouldn't be in the fellow's skin that would pro- pose it to me, lor the best shilling; as ever came out o' tho mint. Take that, and that, and that, he'd say, to the off for- ward hors(>, (alayin' it into bin) like mad,) and do your own work, you dishotu'st rascal. It is fun aliv(? you may depend. No, sir, lose }our colonies, and you'll have /J.yc-talian cities Vvithout tluMr climate, Z^^e-ialian la/aroni witbou* their li^dit hearts to sing over their poverty, (I'or tlu; English can't sing a bit better nor bjU fro;^s,) and worse than /.^/c-ialian eru[)- tions and volcanoes in politics, without the grandeur and sub- limity of those in natur'. Deceive not yourselves; if vou lop off the branches, the ti'ee perishes, for the l(;aves elal>o rate the sap that vivilies, nourishes, and supports the trunk Tiiere's no two ways about it, scpiire: "Mem who tiaij volo- nics arc no good, are cither fooif or knavts,' if thct/ be fool a thejj airCt rrorth anmccriti' , and if they arc knaves, send them to the treadmill, till they lam to i.;/;c'«A: the truth.^' ■.-Ml 45 •'kit 176 THE CLOCKMAKER. CHAPTER XXII. ■ij^ p'\''m 1 II KKuriNCJ UP Tin: STEAM. It is paiiiful to tlunk of llic hliindfrs that have hcci conri' iuiftctl iVorn tiiiin t(j lim<' in tic niiniaucnicMt of our (H>Ionie9, and of th(! mbly or ('ouncil, are not always to be received as conclusiv<; evidence of i)ui)lic oj)inion. 'i'hcy are sometimes produced by accidental causes, ollen by temporary excitement, and frecpiently by the intrigue or talents of one man. In the j-oloiues, the leu-islature is more ollen in advance of public opinion, than coerced by it, and the pressure from without is som(!times caused by the excitement prcmously existing within, while in many cases the people dt) not par ticipate in the views of their rc|)resentatives. Hence the resolutions of one day are sometimes rescindecl the next, and a subsequent session, or a new liouse, is found to hold opin- ions opposed to those of its predecessor. 'Jo these dilliculties KEEPING UP THE STEAM. 177 bed com* colonics, heir inter- 'oJLrn |)0\v- oiiists are deplore a important, L'ctions by dw arrived ut of ehiU iinjiortant /ertcd her V. MirIi, to want of ;h also has i\rc. The II intrusted from their [•e to their es in other y accurate 10 more to ;u'ty, either vays to be 'I'ht^y are temporary nts of one in advance ssurc from previously lo not par Hence the e next, and hold opin- ) dilVicultiea in obtaining accurate information, may be added the uncertain character of that arising I'rom private sources. Individiial.s having access to the Ccjionial Ollicc, are not always the best quulitl(Hl lor consultation, and interest or prejudict! is but too ollen Ibund to oper.itc insensibly even upon those \\iK)se sin- cerity and integrity are undoubted. As a remedy l<)r tliciSQ evils it has been proposed to give the colonies a rej)resenla« lion in j)arliament, but the measure is attended with so many objections, and such iidiereiit dillicidties, iLut it may be con- sidered almost impracticable. The only satislactory and etlicient prescription that political (juackery has hitherto sujf. gested, app(?ars to be that ol' a ('oiniiial ( 'onucil-board, com- posed j)rincipally, if not wholly, of jiersons from the respec- tive, provinces; who, while the miui.>ler changes with tho cabinet of the day, shall remain as permanent miunbers, to inform, advise, and assist his successor. Aonc hiit natives can fully untkr.stiind the ptculior fivlimrs of the colonista. The advantages to be derived from such a board, ari! t(jo (»l)vi- ous to be enlarged upon, and will readily occur to any one at nil conversant with these subjects; for it is a matter of noto- rietVi that a corresitoudeiice luav be conunenced bv one min- ister, continued by a second, and teruii:iateu by a third, so rapid have sontelimes been the changes in this de|)artment. It is not my business, however, U) sugg(^st, (and I heartily rejoic(> that it is not, for I am no projet tor,) but simply to record the sayings and doings of that ecce^itric personage, Mr. Samuel Slick, to whom it is now high time to return. Vou object, said I, to the present line ot* government pack- ets running between Falmouth and Ilaliliix (and I must say, not without reason:) prav, what do you propose to substitute in their places. Well, I don't know, said he, as I gist altogether ought to blart out all » think about it. Our folks njightn'r bo over half pleased with me for the hint, for our New Vork liners have the w hole run of th(^ passengers now, and plaguy proud our Iblks be of it, too, I tell you. Why, if it was to lenk out it was nie that jjut you up to it, I should have- to gallop through tb(! country when I n^tiuiied homr-, as Head did — you know Head the author, don't you I 'I'here are several gentlemen of that name, I rej)lied, >vho havw; distin- guished t'lemselves as authors; j)ray, wiucb ilo y^u mean? VVell, I don't know, said he, as I can gist altogether indicate tho identical man 1 mean, but I calculat<; it 's him that gal- loped the wild horaus in ;he Pampas a hundred miles a day »j| 178 THE CLOCKMAKER. '■■•5.; ift m hand runuin', day in and day out, on Inof tf?u, mado of hung Iti'd* and cold water; — it's the yalloj)in' one I niL-an ; lie is CJuvernor lo Canada ni»\v, 1 hclicvc. Von know in that are h'tok he wrote on ifallohin' he savs, " llio greatest liixiirv in all naiur' is to ride without trt)U.ser.s on a liorse without a sad- dl(!," — w hat we cidl harohrecMdit^d and hare-hatkcd. (Oh ! J wonder he didn't die a-larlin', I do, I vow. '1 lu'in ^reat thistles that he sa\s ;rro\v in the raniiuis as liij^h as a Jiu- nian's jiead, nmst have tickh-d a man a'm^isl tt» death that rotle that way.) Well, now, ii'l was to tell you how to work it 1 should have to ride armed as h'; was in his travels, with two pair of detonatin' pistols and a douhle-harrellod trim, ;uul wluMi 1 s(!('d a t^aucho of a Ne-w Yorker a-comin', (dap tho reins in my mouth, si t oil* at lidl i,allt»|), and pint a pistol at nim with each liand ; or else 1 M iiive to lasso him, — tliat 's «artain, — !(>r they'd make; traveilin' in tjial state too hot for nic to wear hreetdies I know. JM have to olf with them full chisel, and j^o it harobacked, — that \s as clear as mud. I be- lieve Sir I'^rancis ihjad is n(j 'j;reat favourite, I replied, with your coimlrymen, but he is very popidar with the colonists, and very dest-rvedly no. Ik; is an able and elficient governor, and j)Ossesscs the entire; conlidr'uce of the ))rovinces. lie is j)laced in a very dillicuU situation, and apj)ears to display ^reat tact and j^n'eat talent. Well, ucll, said he, let that j)ass; i won't say he don't, though I v'iSh he wouldn't talk s(j much ag'in us as he does, an\iiow; but will you promise you won't \vt on it was me now if I tell you ? Certainly, said J, your name shall bo concealed. Well, then, I'll tell you, said he; turn your attention to steam navigation to 1 (alifix. Steani Avill half ruin J*]n^land, vet, if they don't; mind. It will drain It of its money, drain it of its j)Oj)ulatioii, and — what 's more than all — what it can spare least of all, and what it will teel more nor nil, its artisans, its skilfid worlcmen, and its honest, intelligent, and resper'able middle classes. It will leave you nothin' in time but y«.;ir aristocracy and your j>oor. A trip to America is goin' to b(Miothiu' more than a trip to Fraiu'c, and folks will go wliere land is cheap and labour high. It ^vill build the new world up, but it will drain tlie old one out in a way no one thinks on. Turn this .tide of emigration to your own provinces, or, ns sure as eggs is eggs, wc will get it all Y'.iu han't no notion wliat steam is destined to do for Americo It will make it look as bright as a pewter button yet, I know The distance- as I make it, from IJristol to New York liiiiht ■m KEEPING tl' TIIK STEAM. r9 10 of hung •an ; he is 11 ttiut are iixurv in • loiit a sail- ed. (Oh! Ik'JU urcat ) as a iiU' death that \v tu work ivels, with 141111, and ', clap tlio a pi.stol at in, — that 's !(»() hot tor 1 thv.in lull lud. 1 he- jjlied, with ! eoloiiists, : governor, OS. Ho is to display that pass; k »o much I you won't aid I, your u, said ho ; x. {Steam : will drain hat 's moro it will Icol its honest, I leave yon )r. A trip to Fraive, * hi;:;!), it I one out in on to yt)ur I j^et it all r Amorico :t, I know ork Liyht house, is 3037 miles ; from Bristol to IlaliHix Lin;ht.hou>o ia 2471) ; tVom llalitiix Li^^lit to New Vork LiLdit is O-j-j miles, — in all, 3001 miles; S.'}'^ miles shorter than \cw YOrk lino; and (!ven going to x\(Av York, 3(» miles short(r — that's a tiict. Now you take the ch.'irt, and work it yourselT, scpiire, for I'm no great liand at navigation. i"ve been a wlialiug voyage, and a li-w (Mher sea trips, and I know a little ahonf it, hut not miicli, and vet, if I ain't pretty considerable! near tlif mark, I'll give; them leave to guess that knows better — that's nil. (Jet your li>gis- Intur' to peivuado government to cdiifivict with the (Jreat Western li>lks to carry the mail, and drop it in th<'ir way to New York ; lor you got as mii(dj and as good conl to Nova Scotia as lOnglaiid lias, and the steam-boats would have to carry a supjdy lor O.")!) miles less, and could take in a slock at Halifax I'or tin; return voyage to Kun)pe. W ministers won't do tliat, get 'im to send steam packets of tleir own, ami vou wouldn't be no lon^er an (.'verlasfin' outlandish eountrv no more as vou be now. And, m(»re nor that, nou wouUln't lose all the best emigrants and all their capital, who now go to the Stat(?.s 'causi; the voyage is safer, and remain there cause they are tired of traveHin', and can't get down hero without risk of their j)recious necks and ugly mugs. IJut John f3idl is like all other sponsible Iblks; he thinks Vause ho is rich lie is wise too, and knows every thing, wh ,-\ in fact he knows plaguy littlf; outsiele of his own '"at ion. Like all other consaited folks, too, lie don't allow i obouy el;i3 to know notliin' neither but himself, 'i'he 7v/f!ai..;i< j.-. toi^ lazy, t!»e I'Veiudi too smirky, the Spaniard tito bnmiitti, tlj« Hutch too smoky, tlie (Jermaii too dreamy, the Seotcdi too itchy, the Irish too po[)ey, and tiic Yankee too tricky; all low, all ignorant, all poor. He thinks tlie noblest work of Ciod an EnalishiiVMX. He is on considerable ifood terms witli liimscif, too, is .!ohn IJull, when lie has I. is go-to-mcet- m' clothes on, his g(»Id-!ieaded cane in liis tiand, and his puss buttoned up tiglit in !iis trous«,'rs pocket. He wears his hat a little a one side, raki;di-like, whaps hi« cane down ajj'ia ^ 180 TIIS CLOCKMAKER. the pavement hard, as if ho intended to keep things in theif place, s\vajj;gors a few, as it' he thou^fht lie had a right to look big, and stares at you full and hard in tjje lace, with a know. in' toss of his head, as much as to say, " ThaVs »ic, d — n your"* and who you he I don't know, and what's mort; I don't want to know; so clear the road douhle quictk, will jou? Yes, take John at his own valiation, and 1 guess you'd get a considcrahle hard hargain of him, for he is old, thick in the wind, tender in the foot, weak in tiic knees, too cussed fat to travel, and plaguy cross-grained and il|.tem|)(;red. If you go for to raise your voice to him, or even so much as lay the weight of your finger on him, his Hheiiezer is u|) in a niinit. I don't like him one bit, and I don't know who the plague does : but that's neither here nor there. Do you get your legislature to interfere in this matter; foi steam navigation will he the makin' of vou if yon work it right. It is easy, I replied, to sugg(!st, hut not quite so easy, Mr. (Slick, as you suppose, to have these i)rf>jccts carried into execution. (lovernment may not bo willing to permit tlie mail to bo carried by contract. Perujit it ! said he with ani- mation ; to be sire it will permit it. Don't they grant every thing you ask I don't they concede om; thing arter another to you to keep you quiet, till they han't got much Icll to con- cede? It puts me in mind of a missionary I once seed down to RowiS and Arrows (lUienos Ayres.) Ife went out to con- vart the peoj)le from bein' Uoinan Catholics, and to persuade the Spaniards to pray in h^nglish instead oj" Latin, and to get dipt anew by him, and he carritd sway there like a house a fire, till the aluirks one day mnde a tarnation sly dash among his convarts that vas a wadin' out in the water, and gist walkf d off with three on 'em by the legs, screamin' and yelpin' like mad. Arter that he took to a pond outside the town, and one day as he was awalkin' out with his hands behind him, am(Khtalin' on that arc profane trick the shark.<» played him, and what a slippery world this was, and what not, who should he meet but a party of them Gauchos, that galloped up to him as quick as wink, and made him prisoner. Well, th(>y gist iell to, and not only robbed him of all he had, but stripped him of nil his clothes hut his breeches, and them they Iell him for decency sake to get buck to tow n m. Poor critter ! he felt streaked enough, I do assure you ; he was Dear about frightened out of his sev-.n senses ; he didn't know XEEPIXO UP THE STEAM. i81 whethor ho was stnndin' on his hoad or his h(s '«», "tiu wni e'en u'most sun; they wrro ai^oiii' to iminh^r liin. So, said ho, my hclovcd iViiJiuls, said he, I hcsrccli you, is there any thing more you want of me I Do wo want any thinjjj more of you? says they ; why, you lian't ^'ot nothen' lell but your breeches, you nasty, dirty, blaekj,aiard hiM'ctie you, and do you want to part with them too? and th^y }j;ist lell to and welted Ijim all the way into the town with tlit3 tip eend of their lass(js, lariin', and lioopin', and liollerin' at the joke like so many ravin' distracted dcviis. Well, n«>w, your government is near about as well off as the missionary \kas ; they've^ t,'ranted every thing tlu-y had a'mosf, till th«y han't got much more; than tin; breeches lell, — th(! mere sovereignty, and tiiat's all. No, no ; gist you ax for sfeam-pa«-kets, and you'll get 'em — that's a Tact. Oh, squire, it" John Hull only knew the valy ol' these colonies, ho would bo a great man, 1 tell yon; but he don't. You can't make an account ol"'em in dollars and cents, the cost on one side, and the profit on t'othi.^r, and strike tin; balance of the *' tottle of the huU,^'' as that are critter Hume calis it. You can't put into figur's a nursery for seamen ; a resource for timber if the liallic is shot ag'in you, or a population of brave and loyal people, a growing and sure marktjt, an outlet for emigration, the first fishery in the world, their political and relative im[»ortance, the power they would give a rival, con- verting a friend into a llje, or a customer intc) a rival, or a shop full of goods, and no sale lor 'em — Fia^ures are the representatives of number.^, and not things. Mtjlesworth may talk, and Hume may cypher, till one on 'em is as hoarse as a crow, and t'otiier as blind as a bat, and they won't make that table out, I know. That's all very true, I said, but you forget that the latter gentleman says ihat America is now a better customer than when she was a colony, and maintains her own government at her own expense, ^mkI therefore he infers that the remain ing dependencies are useless incumbrances. And he forgets too, he rej)lied, that he made liis fortin' himself in a colony, and therefore it don't b«?come him to $-ay so, and that America 13 larnin' to sell as well as to buy, and to manufactur' as well as to import, and to hate as much, and a little grain moroi than she loved, and that you are weaker by all her strength. He forgets, too, that them that separate from a governmant 18'^ TiiK c;(.ik;kmaker. I mi I' |. Mill ,■«"', or secede from a church, nlways hiite ihosc thoy h-nvo nriJch wt)rso tluin those uIkj an.- boni in dilicnnf states or (hlllrcnl Bccts. It's a lacf, 1 assure yt)U, lliose critters that de>arted our <;hurch to Slickville in teiMp<-r that time (diout llu; < hoico ol* an eldi-r, wen; the oidy ones that hated, and reviled, and parseeuted us in all (.\)nnecticiit, liir we were on friendly or iKrutral terms with all the rest. Kei j) a sharp look-out always for drsarters, tor when they jitie the enemy they ti^jht like tlio devil. Ao one hutt liLv him f/int huft once bctn a friend. Ht! IIir;j,et-> that a hut it's ni» use al.ilkin'; you might as well whistle jij^s to a niili.'-stoni! as talk to a <^ttney tiiat soys fifteen millions of inimies are as good as fifteen niilli(»ns of friends, imless indeed it is with nations as with individuals, that it is hett(!r to have some folks aii'in you than lor you, li»r 1 vow lh(,'re are ihajis in your |)arli;uuent that ain't no credit to no party. lint this folly of Jolm IJull ain't the worst of it, sijuirc ; it's considerable more; sillv ; he intHtcs the colonists to flight his own troojtSj and then paifs all the crjiensc of the entertainment. If that don't hrat coek-h'ditin', it's a pity : it lairlv hant's llio hush, that, if thenj's a re-hellion to C.'anadii, sijuire, (and there will he as sure as tliere are snakes in V'arji;iny,) it will be planned, advisi'd, and sot on i'oot in London, you may depend, for them simple critters tlu; French wduld never think of it, if they were not jiut up to it. Them that advise Papinor rebel, and set his l()lks to murder Knulishnien, and promise to back them in I'^nnland, are for everlastin'ly atalkin' of econojny, and yet instigate them parley vous to put the nation to more expense than they and their party ever saved by all their barking in their lilb, or ever could, if they were to live as long as M(U'usalem. if them poor Frenchmen rebel, gist pardon them right off the reel without sayin' a word, for they don't know nothin', but rig up a gallus in London as high as a church steej)Ie, and I'll give you the names of a few villains there, the cause of all the murders, nnd arsons, and robbcn'ic's, and miseries, and sutll'rin's that *ill foller. Gist take 'em and string 'em up like onsafe dogs. A critter that throws a firebrand among combustibles, must answer for the tin; ; and when he throws it into his ncigii- bour's house, and not his own, he is both a coward and a villain. Cuss 'em I hangin' is too good for 'cm, I say ; don't you, squire ( Umvc mjch i or (lilicrciu liat dcsirted i{ llu! .hoico rcvikt-l, and u Iric'iKlly or U-oul always li^'lit like tho en a friend, >ou ii»ijn j)olitics. I have »ndcavoiu*ed to give his rcniarks in his own lanuuaj^c, and as nearly vrrhatim as i could; but ihcy were so desultory and discursive, that they rather resendiled thinkini: aloud th.in a connected conver.>ati(m, and hi.'* illii-^tra- tions ol'fen led liim into such lon;^ (•|)iMMle.>., that Ik; sometimes wandered inf(^ new topies helore he had closed jjis remarks upon the suhject Ik? was discoiu'sinllicer by the former, and the greater part of iho revenues inadiMpiate for the pur|)ose by the; latter, uhik; j)atri- otism and loyalty are scn'erally (claimed as the exclusive attri bnte:, of each. As usual, (.'Xtrenies meet; the same emptiness distin<^iii>hes both, the sann; loud j>rolrssif>ns, the same violent invectives, and the same selfishness. Tln-y are cainivon^us animals, havinif a stroni^ appetite to devour their enemies, and occasionally showinif no rc|)u^nanee to sacrifice a friend Amidst the clamours of these noisy disputfuits, thuld do it to *ave his soul uiivo. Come, como, Mr. Slick, said 1, no soft sawder^ if you ploasc, to uic. I have no objection to record your jokes uj)ou others, but 1 do not dt.'sire to be made the sub- ject of one myself. I am not quite such a simpleton as not to know that a man may write a book, and yet not bo lit foi a governor. Some books, said ho, such as 1 could name ; but this I will say, and maintain to my dyin' day, that a man that knows all that's set down in the Clockmakers (and it ain't probable ho emptied the whole bag out — there must be con- siderable siftin's left in it yet) is fit for governor of any placo in the univarsal world. I doubt if even Mr. Van Buron him self (the prettiest penman atwccn the poles) could do it. LoJ 'em gist take you up by the heels and shake you, and vie if as much more don't como out. If you really are in earnest, I said, all I can say i-i, that you very much over-rate it. You think favourtibiy of l!io work, because you are kind enough to think favourably of tho author. All this is very well as a joke; but I assure you they would not even condescend to answer such a communi- cation at the Colonial Office; they would Get such a letter down as the ravings of insanity — as one of the innumerable instances that are constantly occurring of the vanity and folly of authors. Don't you believe it, sai ' 60 CHABLES LEYEB'S. Charles O'Malley, - 60 Knight of Gwynue, • 60 Arthur O'Lcary, • 60 Tom ISurke of Ours, - 60 Jack Ilinton, • • 60 liarry Lorrequer, • 60 Horace Templeton, - 60 Kate O'Donoghue, - 60 Lever's works are alsobonnd in four volumes, in black cloth, for $6 00. Scarlet cloth, $6.50. Law Library sh(>ep$7.00. Half calf $9.00 Ten Thousand a Year, 1.00 Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist, - 60 The Sisters, - - flO The Steward, - • 60 Percy Etttugham, • 60 ALEXANDBE DUMAS'. The Three Guardsmen, 76 Twenty Years After, - 73 Bragelonne, • • 76 The Iron Hand, - 60 Forty-Five Guardsmen, 75 Memoirs of a Marquis, 1 00 Andree do Taverney, • 1 00 Countess of Charny, • 1 00 The Iron Mask, • 1 00 Louise La Valliere, • 1 00 Memoirs of a Physician, 1 00 Queen's Necklace, - 1 00 Diana of Meridor, • 1 00 Six Years Later, • 1 00 Felina de Chambnre, fiO Genevieve, • - 60 Sketches in France, • 60 Isabel of Ravaria, • 60 Edmnnd Dantes, • 50 Corsican Drothers, - 25 LIPPABD'S WOBKS. Washington & Generals, 1 00 Quaker City, - - 1 00 Paul Ardenheim, • 1 00 Blanche of Brandywine, 1 00 The Nasarene, • • 60 Legends of Mexico, • 25 Ltdyo of Albttrone, • 1 00 CHABLES DICKENS'. David Copperfield, - f)0 Donib<>y and Son, • 50 Nicholas Nickleby, • 60 Pickwick Papers, - 50 Christmas Stories, • 60 Martin Chuzzlewit, • 60 liaruaby Kudge, • 50 Dickens' New Stories, 00 Itleak House, • 60 Old Curiosity Shop, - 60 Sketches by " Boz,** • 60 Oliver Twist, - - 60 A complete sett of the above will be sold for |5; also, bound in five vols., black cloth, for $7.50. Scarlet cloth, for $8.60. Law Li- brary Sheep, for $9.00. The Illustrated edition is $l.riO a volume, or $1H for the complete sett of 12 volumes. FBANK FAIBLEOH'S. Frank Fairlegh, • 00 Lewis Arundel, - 75 Harry Coverdale's Court- ship, - - - 1 00 Lorrimer Littlegood, 1 00 Fortunes and Misfor- tunes of Harry Uaclc- ett Scapegrace, • 60 BOOKS OF FUN. Major .Tones' Courtship and Travels. Cloth, 1 25 Simun Suggs' Adventures and Travels. Cloth, 1 25 Major Jones' Scenes in Georgia. Cloth, - 1 25 Humors of Falcoubridgel 00 Frank Forester's Sport- ing Scones and Cha- racters. 2 vols., cloth, 2 60 Dow's Patent Sermons. By Dow, Jr. 3 vols., each, - - - 7.1 Piney Woods Tavern, 1 00 Adventures of Captain Priest, - - • 70 American Joe Miller, Sft iM T. B. PETERSONS LIST OF PUBLICATIONS. i!ii HUMOROUS WORKS. • IlKM Til ri.l V III I HTIIAIM). Miljor .liilii'r<' ('M' Ailvt'ntiiron, .'0 MlOoCiI'llX'M'Clirillllcit'H of I'ilK'Villr. - . :.ii I'lillv I'fuliloKMffin's NVimMIhh. - - M TililowKiiu'^vMliiHtxind, M H't'^ lli'iir iif Arkiiiisn.«, fir liifo, riii Plrkiii^Hf'riiiii I'iriiyiiiiu, M plriiy .-^iiliji'i-ts iirrfNtcd uimI IIoiui'I r. • M Loii'siiiim .'^wiiiiip Doctor, ro Cliiirroiil SkctchcH, - Till Mist'.irtmiisiif IVUirKulKTv'O J'ifiT I'I.mI.Iv, - - .'.O yiiiiKi'caiiiciiii; MiM'tiiiililM, .lO Ntwurli'nii>^ Skclih i;ook, .^O 1>IMIIII1 ill I'dkiTvillc, - .'.(I Tlii> CliiiriiH of I'liriH.- fill The Qiioruduii IIhuihIh, AO Wy SliiioiiiiK Hox. - M Wiirwifk \Vao(llj>u(ls, /•)() TliH Dfor Stalkors - 60 AdviMitiircHofCiiptain Famv^o, - - 6() Miyor O'Ui'gau's Ad- vciituri's, - - 60 gol. Smiths Theatrical Appn'iitiwHhip, • 60 gol.Sinith'HTtittutrical Journey-Work, • 60 Quartor Kace Kentucky, 60 Rival \MU>n, . - 50 Lifi- ofCol Vandcrbomb, 50 Lif<* and Adventurud of l'«'rcival Mayberry, 60 Ynnkpit Y^rns and Yankee Lettors, - 60 MRS. OREY'S. Olpspy's Dauffhter, • 25 Ii«'ii!i Cameron, • '25 Uell.i of th« Family, - 25 Pyhil liunnnnJ, - 2") Duke and Cousin, - 25 The Little >\ife, . 25 BlanieuTrinft Mother, 35 Baronet's DuURhters, - 25 YouiiK I'rinia Donna, 25 Old Dower lIoUHe, - 25 II.va(;inthe, - - 25 Aiice Seymour, • • 25 Mary Seiiham, - - 60 Passion and Principle, 50 FISRAELrs WORKS. Henrietta Temple, • 50 Vivian (Irey, - - 60 Venetitt. - • 60 YounK Duke, • • RH Miriam Alroy, - - i5S Contarini Fleming, • S8 LANGUAGES. Fronoli without a Master, 25 Spanish without a Master, 25 German without a Master, 25 It4ilian without a Master, 26 Latin without a Master, 26 REYNOLDS' WORKS. Mysterle* of tlio ('iiiirt III' liiiiidiiii. 2 yoU., I 00 Rixn F'lxItT '.\ voU,, 1 50 Ciiiiilliii' uf Hriiii>*wii"k, 1 00 Vnietlii 'I'lclawin-y, • 1 00 l.ord Saxoiidal.', - 1 00 Count ClirlttxViil, • 1 00 Knsa I,iiiiil)eit, • 1 00 Mary rrico, - . 1 00 Kustace (^leiitln, • 1 00 .Toxeph Wilni..t, - 1 (H) Haiiker'N Daughter, - 1 oo Keiiimth, - - - 1 00 Tli.» Kve-II,)iise IMot, 1 00 iHulii'lla Vincent, • 50 Vivian Beitram, • 60 CiMiiite!>M of La-relloH, 60 Duke of Marcliiiiiiut, • 60 Tlie N'eiTomiuii'ir. • 7' Tlie Soldier'h Wife, - 60 May Miildletiin, - 60 MiiHKaere of (jlniroe, . 60 Tlie Court of Naples, 60 I.oves of the Ilariiiu, - 60 Klleii Percy, - - 60 A«nes Kvelyn, - - 6(i Kdvfar Montrotio, - 25 Parricide. • • UO Life ill Parlfl, • - 60 CAPT. 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Miirrel, 2/1 Llle of JoM>ph T. lUre, 2A I Life of Monroe Kd ward*, 2H j Lite of Helen Jewelt, 23 I Life of Jiirk Kauu, • '2H I Kit (Uayton, - - 2.^ j Lives of tho Felons, • 2.'t Tom Waters, • • 2.1 Nat HIake, . . 2,1 Hill Morton, • • 2i Oalh'plMKOna, • • 2A Ned llaNtiiiKS, • - 2A liid.ly Woodhull, • 2A JWeleeu WlNon, • 2A Diary of a Pawnbroker, 2.1 Silver and Pewter, • 2.1 Sweeney Todd, - - SS TALES OF THE SEA. Adventures of Ben Br.ico, 60 .lai'k Adaiiis,the Mutineer, t'lO The Spitfire, - - 60 The I'eirel, - - CO The Pirat.' s ?(.n, • 25 The Doomed Ship, - 2.5 The Tliree Pirates, - 2^ The Flying; Dutchman, 25 Life of Alexander Taruy, 2A The Flylni,' Yankiw, - 24 The Yankee Middy, - 2i The (Jold Seekers, - 24 The Uiver Pirates, - 24 Dark Shades of City Life, 2.1 The Kats of the Seine, 2.1 Yankees in Japau, • 25 Ked King, - - - 25 Morgan, the Buccaneer, 25 Jack Junk, - 2.1 Davis, the Pirate, • 25 Valdez, the Pirate, - a> Jack Ariel, - - 2.5 Gallant Tom, - • 25 Yankee .fack, - • 2.1 Harry Helm, - • 2.1 Harry Tempest, - 25 REVOLUTION TALES. Seven Bros, of Wyoming, 2.1 The Brigand, - - 2.) Tho Kebol Bride, - 21 Ralph Runni|ili T. Iliirn, 2A iinrot* Kdwiirdt, an l.'li'ii JewoU, '23 irk Rauu, ■ a-v ton, 2.3 llltt FuluDM, • M tern, • • 2.3 te, - • 2.1 tun, 25 K (loi, • 2a tlUKH, - 25 ^otidhull, 25 Wilson, 25 ' a I'liwnbroker, 2.1 ud P«wt«r, - 2.1 f Todd, - 25 9 OF THE SEA. iroHof B»Mi Hr.ii'o , M iinirt,lhuMut>ueur. t>s in Japuu, 25 n>(. - 2.1 1, the Buccaneer, 25 ink, 2.3 the Pirate, 25 the Pirate, - a3 rlel. 2.3 ; Tom, 25 ) Jack, - 2.3 Helm, - 2.3 TempeKt, 25 iLUTIOU TALES. Jros. of Wyoming, 2.3 ivraud, - '2.3 bol Bride, 2.3 Kunnion, ai ring Artillerist, 2.3 t, - - - 25 [»n-gee, - U orillaCl'lef, - 60 LAND'S WORKS. atchman, - I 00 audercr, - - I (M> )f an Old Doctor, 1 00 wyer's Story, - 1 00 in cloth, $1.25 each. JGENE SUE'S. , the Foundllag, ring Jew, ies of Paris, ove, I's LoTe, - -War'H-SIan, • ! Bluebeard, • d« SorTlile. 00 00 00 25 25 26 26 2r T. B. PETERSON'S LIST OF PTTBLICATIOHS. S QUABTEB BOOKS. 1 25 • 1 00 1 00 1 00 1 00 2.'> 2.-. »;") 2-) 2.3 2.'> 2.''. 2;') 2.-. 2.) 2.3 2.3 2.3 2.3 2.3 '25 26 '25 COOK BOOKS. Ml"" Loslin'H New Cookery Hook, Wlddltlold'» Now Cook Book, Mrn. Hal»''i» Pour Thoii- itaua k FIvoUt'wilptH, MIm I^hHo'h Now Ko- »i|itN for Cookinit, - Iff* llale'N New Cook Bcok, . . - ARTHUR'S WORKS. Th»TwG HriilT« In a t'otlann. Ijove in IliKh l.it'o, Year aOtT Marriage, • ThH Lady at Homo, - Cecilia Howard, Orphan Childn-n, iVhlor'H DauHhter, - Mary Morotm. Th« Divorced Wlfo, - I'ridH and J'rud«aice, - A)(neit, nr the I'oM.teHMMl, Lucy Waudford. The llank.'r'H Wife, - The Two Merchants, • Insubordination, Trial and Triumph, • The Iron Uulo. The Old AHtroloj,'er, • The SeaniHtreHS, USEFUL BOOKS. Lardner'M One Thou- sand and Ten Things Worth Knowing, - 25 How to get Rich, - 25 Etiquette for All. Cloth, 75 Five Languages with- out a MaNter. Cloth, 1 25 P (ckct Library of Use- ful Knowledge, - 60 Lady's >Vork Table Hook, M Oentlemcn'A Etiquette, 25 Ladies' Etiquette, - 25 Kitchen Gardener, • 25 Complete Florist, - "25 Knowlson's Horse Doctor, 25 Knowlson's Cow Doctor, 25 irthur's Receipts for Putting up Fruits and Vegetables in Bummer to Keep, • 12 EMERSON BENNETTS. rh« Boraer Rover, - 1 00 Clara Moreland, • 60 Viola, ... 60 Bride of Wildernew, • 50 Ellen Norbury, • 60 rorgedWill, ■ • 60 Kate Clarendon. • 60 Pioneer's Daughter, - 60 Ueiresfa of Bellefont«; and Waldo-Warren, 60 I 00 1 BULWXR'S NOVELS. The Roue. • 25 Falkland, • 26 The Oxonians, • 25 Calderon. th* Oonrttoc 12 BT BEST AUTHORS. Currer Lyie, - . \ it\ Modern Ohivalrr, cloth i •2.» Columbia, the Bea\iti- ful Blonde, Lite and Beauties of Fanny Fern, - The Pride of Life, - Autobiography of an Orphan Oirl, The Student, Adelaide Waldgrave, (IreateHt Plague of Liff, Uncle Tom'H Cabin as it Is, ... Tom Racquet, - MynterieH of Three Cities, R«"d Indians of Nnw* foiindlantl, Roman Traitor, - • ' Salathlel, by Croley, • AriHtocracy, InqulNiiiou In .Spain, - Flirtations In America, The Co(juefU», Arrah Neil, by James, Life in the .South, .^ketcbefi In Ireland, • 3Vhitehall. Whltcfrlars, Wild Sports of West, - Cabin and Parlor, Komish Confesxlonal, Father Clement, Fortune Hunter, Qenevra, Miser's Ilelr, Victinit of Amusements, Henry Clays Portrait, 1 Siege of liondonderry, The Orphan Sisters, - Two Lovers, ADVENTURES. Adf«iiture<4 in Africa, 1 Adventures of Ned Lora,l Don tiuixottts - • 1 Wild Oats Sown Abroad, Life and AdveuliITes uf Paul Periwinkle, - GEORGE SANDS' First and True Love, - Indiana, - . - The Corsair, C. J. PETERSONS. Mabel ; or. Darkness and Dawn, - - 1 Kate Aylesford, - 1 Cruising in Last War, Orace Dudley, - Valley Farm, SERMONS. America's Mission, - 1 Uankfulness and Cha- racter, . - - Politics in Religion, DR. HOLLIGK'S. Anatomy 4 Physiology, I 00 Dr. Hollick'H Family Physician, • • 2.^ 00 (N) 00 (M :>{ V. 00 m 60 M) 00 f)() f)tl 60 .Ml 4.(' flO TiO .30 f.o 60 f.U 60 60 .'>o :5s f.o 6U tH) 60 00 00 00 60 60 Myterien of a Couveur, 2il Female \Mn In New York, 85 Agm-N (Irev, • - 2;'; llvaStCluIr, • • 'IS Diary of a Physician, 2.> Kniigrant .Squire, - '2.1 Monk, by I.ewii4, • 25 liiaulitiil Kreneh Olrl, '25 Mysteries of liccjlani. 25 A (mm I lie ^n, by Mr^. (tori^ '2.3 The Orphan Child, - SA (Iho'^t .^^lorieN, - ' 26 Madison's Kxposltion of (> KikIv the Hover, • '26 Jenny AmbroHe, • 2>1 Morel on Hull. • 23 Agrieulfural Chemistry, *25 Aiiiuitil ('henii!Io< lodies, by (.'liii.luiiics, paper covor. Price One Dollar; or bound in ono volume,, cloth, for $1.25. THE MISSING BRIDE; OR, MIRIAM THE AVENGER. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southwortb. C'>niplote in two volunes, paper cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in ono volum «, cloth, fo' $1.25. THE LOST HEIRESS. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. S athworth. Being H work of powerful interest Complete in two vo mes, paper cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in ono volume, cloth, fi $1.25. THE WIFE'S VICTORY; AND NINE OTHER 0UVELLETTB8. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southwortb. Complete ' two volumes, papef cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in one volu' j, cloth, for $1.25. THE CURSE or CLIFTON. By Mrs. Emm D. B. N. Southwortb. Complete in two volumes, paper cover. Price ae Dollar; or bound in one volume, cloth, for Oie Dollar and Twenty vo cents. THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER. By Mrs. Emm.. D. E. N, Soutbworth. Complete in two volumes, paper cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in one volume, cloth, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. THE DESERTED WIFE. By Mrc. Emma D. E. N. Soutbworth. Oom. plete in two volumes, paper cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in one volume, cloth, for One Dollar and Twenty -five cents. THB INITIALS. A LOVE STORY OF MODERN LIFE. Byadaugh. ter of the celebrated Lord Erskine, formerly Lord High Chancellor of England. It will be read for gonerrtions to come, and rank by tiie side of Sir Walter Scott's celebrated novels. Two volumes, paper eover. Price One Dollar; or bound in one volume, cloth, for $1.25. The whole of the above are also published in a very fine style, benna Va fUU Crimson, gilt edges, gilt sides, Aill gilt backs, etc., and make TCty ikgant and beautiful presentation books. Price Twd Dollars a eopy. (2J T. B. PETEBSOFS UST OF PXTBLTCATIONS. S CHARLES DICKENS' WORKS. She best and most popular in the world. Ten different editions. ■• Library can be complete without a Sett of these Works. Reprinted from the Author's last Editions. « PETERSON'S" in the only complete and uniform edition of Charles Dickens' uorks publf^bod in America; they are reprinted from the originel London editions, and are now the only edition publisiied in thid country. No library, either public or prirate, can be complete without haying in it a complete sett of the works of this, the greatest of all living authors. Xrery family should possess a sett of one of the editions. The cheap edition is complete in Twelve Volumes, ptipor cover ; either or all of which can be had separately. Price Fifty cents each. The following are their names. DICKENS' NEW STORIES. Con- taining; The Seven Poor Travellers. Nine Now Stories by the Christmas Firo. Hard Times. Lizzie Leigh. The Minor's Daughters, etc. CHRISTMAS STORIES. Contain- ing — A Christinas Carol. The Chimes. Cricket on the Hearth. Battle of Life. Haunted Man, and Pictures from Italy. A complete sett of the above edition, twelve volumes in all« will be sent to any one to any place, /re« of postage, for Five Dollars. DAVID COPPERFIELD, NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, PICKWICK PAPERS, DOMIJEY AND SON, MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT, BARNAPY RUDQE, OLD CURIOSITY SHOP, SKETCHES BY "BOZ," OLIVER TWIST BLEAK HOUSE, * » mm »- u 2 do. M 3 do. « 4 do. COMPLETE LIBRAE7 EDITION. In FIVE large octavo volumes, with a Portrait, on Steel, of Charles Dickens, containing over Four Thousand very large pages, handsomely printed, and bound in various styles. Volume 1 contains Pickwick Papers and Cfiriosity Shop. Oliver Twist, Sketches by " Boz," and Barnaby Rudge. Nicholas Nickleby and Martin Chuzzlewit. David Copperfield, Domboy and Son, Christmas Stories, and Pictures from Italy. Bleak House, and Dickcna' N>iw Stories. Containing — The Seven Poor Tnivehors. Nine New Stories by the Christmas Fire. Hnrd Times. Liiiia Leigh. The Miner's Daughters, and Fortune Wildred, etc. Mee of a oorapieW sett. Bound in Black cloth, full gilt Ixtck, «* *» « « scarlet cleth, extra, »•• # «* ** library sheep, <*^ * " " half turkey morocco, 1 ** u tt half calf, antique, RlvMraitd Edition i$ d*»n'ibed on nsxtpage, *9t^ 5 do. $7 M 8 50 9 Of 11 00 15 01 4 T. B. FETERSON*S LIST OF PTTB^CATIONS. ILLUSTEATED EDITION OF DIGKEKS' WOBKS. Tliia edition is printed on very thick and fine white paper, '^nd is pro. fUnely illustrated, with all the original illustrations by Cruikshank, Altrcil Crowquill, Phiz, etc., from the original London edition, on copper, swtl, »nd wood. Each volume contains a novel complete, and may be had in complete setts, beautifully bound in cloth, for Eighteen Dollars for th« lett In twelve volumes, or any volume will be sold separately, as follows : 60 50 60 50 50 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, $1 60 MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT, 160 DAVID COPPERFIELD, 1 50 DOMBEY AND SON, 1 50 CHRISTMAS STORIES, 1 60 DICKENS' NEW STORIES, 1 60 BLE/K HOUSE, Pr»ce, $ I 60 PICKWICK PAPERS, 1 60 OLD CURIOSITY SHOP, 1 OLIVER TWIST, 1 SKE'ICIIES BY "BOZ," 1 BARNABY RUDQE, 1 Price of a complete sett of the Illustrated Edition, in twelve vols., in black cloth, gilt back, $18,00 Price of a complete sett of the Illustrated Edition, in twelve vols., in full law library sheep, $24,00 price of a complete sett of the Illustrated edition, in twelve vols., in half turkey Morocco, $27,00 Price of a complete sett of the Blustrated Edition, in twelve vols., in half calf, antique, $30,00 Ali auhsequent tcorkn hi/ Chnrles Dicken* mil be iaaued in uniform ttyle witk all the previoua ten different edition!. CAPTAIN MABBTATT'S WORKS. Either of which can be had separately. Price of all except the four last Vi 26 oents each. They are printed on the finest white paper, and each flbrms one largo octavo volume, complete in itself. PETER SIMPLE. JACOB FAITHFUL. THE PHANTOM SHIP. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. KING'S OWN. NEWTON FORSTER. JAPHET IN SEARCH OP A FATHER. PACHA OF MANY TALES. NAVAL OFFICER. PIRATE AND THREE CUTTERS. SNARLEYYOW ; or, the Dog-Fiend. PERCIVAL KEENE. Price 50 ots. POOR JACK. Price 50 cents. SEA KING. 200 pages. Price 60 cents. VALERIE. His last NoveL Price 60 cents. ELLEN PICKERING'S NOVELS. Either of which can be had separately. Price 25 cents each. They art ffinted on the finest white paper, and each forms one large octavo volume, complete in itself, neatly bound in a strong paper cover. THE ORPHAN NIECE. THE HEIRESS. KATE WALSINGHAM. PRINCE AND PEDLER. THE POOR COUSIN. MERCHANT'S DAUQHTKR. ELLEN V^AREHAM. THE FRIGHT. THE QUIET HUSBAND. NAN DARRELL. WHO SHALL BE HEiR? THE SQUIRE. THE SECRET FOB. THE EXPECTANT. AdNl^ SERLE. THE GRUMBLER. 60 1 I0N8. er, ind is pro- ^shank, Altrc4 1 copper, BMcl, lay be had io ;)ollars for the y, as follows: .EBY, $1 66 ,EWIT, 1 60 lELD, 1 60 )N, 1 60 IIES, 1 60 TORIES, 1 60 iwelve twelve $18,00 $24,00 twelve $27,00 twelve $3«,00 ni/orm ttyle usith IKS. Bpt the four last )aper, and each EE CUTTERS. the Dog-Fiend. Price 50 ots. le 50 cents, ages. Price 60 !t NoveL Price ;ls. each. They e octavo volumCi PEDLER. DAUQHTKR. iL. > , ANT. ^ iER. 60 eta. T. B FETERSOFS LIST OF FUBLICATIORS. MRS. CABOUNE LEE HENTZ'S WORKS. COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE; OR, THE JOYS AND SORROWS OF AMERICAN LIFE. With a Portniit of the Author. Compiet« in two large volumes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. THE PLANTER'S NORTHERN BRIDE. With illustrations. Com. plete in two large volumes, paper cover, 600 pages, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt. One Dollar and Twenty-five cents LINDA; OR, THE YOUNG PILOT OF THE BELLE CREOLE. Com. plete in two volames, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one TOlume, cloth gilt, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. BOBERT GRAHAM. The Sequel to, and continuation of Linda. Be- ing the laet book but one that Mrs. Ilentz wrote prior to her death. Complete in two large volumes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. XINA ; OR, THE SNOW BIRD. A Tale of Real Life. Complete in two volumes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, oloth gilt, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. MARCUS WARLAND; OR, THE LONG MOSS SPRING. A Tale of the South. Complete in two volumes, paper cover, price Ont Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt. One Dollar and Twenty-ti «-•> cents. LOVE AFTER MARRIAGE ; and other Stories. Complete in two vol- umes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, for One Dollar and Twenty-five cents. BO LINE ; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE. Complete in "two volumes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, $1 26. THE BANISHED SON; and other Stories. Complete in two volumes, pnpor cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, $1 2£. HELEN AND ARTHUR. Complete in two volumes, paper cover, price One Dollar, or bound in one volume, cloth gilt, $1 26. The whole of the above are also published in a very fine stylo, bound In the very best and most elegant and substantial manner, in full Crimson, with beautifully gilt edges, full gilt tddes, gilt backs, etc., etc., making them the best and most acceptable books fur presentation at the price, published in the country. Price of either one in this 8t>le, Two Dollars. T. S. ARTHUR'S WORKS. Either of which can bo had separately. Price 25 cents each. They are 4be most m^ral, popular and entertaining in the world. There are m» hotter books to plac« in the hands of the young. All will profit by thete. YEAR AFTER MARRIAGE. THE DIVORCED WIFE. THE BANKER'S WIFE. ?RIDE AND PRUDENCE. OECILIA HOWARD. MARY MOKETON. LOVE IN A COTTAGE. LOVE IN HIGH LIFE. THE TWO MERCHANTS. LADY AT HOME. TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. THE ORPHAN CHILDREN. THE DEHTOIl'S DAUGHTBa INSUBOKDINATION. LUCY SANDFORD. AGNES, or the Poi^sessed. THE TWO BRIDES. TIIR IRON RULE. THE OLD ASTROLOGEB. THE SEAMSTRESS. 6 T. B. PETERSON'S LIST OF FVBLICATIOKS. CHARLES LEVER'S NOVELS. CHARLES O'M ALLEY, the Irish Dra^^oon. By Charles Lover. Co a- [jlete in one largu octavu volume of 324 pa^^us. Price Fifty cents ; or an edition on liner paper, bound in cloth, illutttrutcd. Price On* Dollar. THE KNIGHT OF QWYNNE. A tale of the time of the Union. By Charles Lever. Comploto in one fine octavo volume. Price Fifty centt*; or an edition on finer poper, bound in cloth, illustrated* Price One Dollar. JACK IIINTON, the Guardsman. By Charleu Lover. Complete in on* largo octavo volume of 40U paj^es. Price Fifty couts; or an edition on liner paper, bound in cloth, illustrated. Price One Dollar. TOM BURKE OF OURS. By Charles Lever. Complete in one large octavo volume of 3U0 pages. I'rice Fifty cents; or an edition oa finer paper, bound in cloth, illustrated. Price One Dollar. ARTHUR LEAllT. liy Charles J vor. Complete in one large ootavt» volume. Price Fifty cents; or i. edition on finur paper, bound in cloth, illustrated. Price One Doll. KATE O'DONOOHUB. A Tale of Ireland. By Charles Lever. Com- plete in one large octavo volume. Price Fifty cents; or an edition on finer papcr^ bound in cloth, illustrated. Price One Dollar. HORACE TEMPLETON. By Charles Lever. This is Lover's New Book. Complete in one large octavo volume. Price Fifty cents ; or an c YEAR. ,gffl as well as onliir^od for 18.58. Platos ; and 600 Wood Eu- ioilicdl gioed. The NewB- )." J STORIES. »ld Homestead, " "Fash'jn Aylosford," "The Valley louthworth, author of "The Caroy, Mrn. Denison, Miss tty Holyoko, and by all the uually bci uj? added, regard- >proachablo in merit. Mo* TEEL ENGRAVINGS, 1 year are di^ne worth the f ADVANCE. , and colored ; also a dozen m which a Dress, Mantilla, mtua-maker, so that each le Paris, London, Philadel- i month. Patterns of Caps, ) of female dress. i5el*(j, efc. instructions how to work se, Netting, Frivolite, Lace- l Chemisettes ; Patterns in ; Names for Marking and BROIDERY, ETC., art given, iece of fashionable Music is the Sick-room, the Toilet, Id. for One Tear, - $10.00 s for One Tear, 15.00 >8 for One Tear, 20.00 rhree, Five, Eight, Twelro, a Club of Three, and remit- •liars and a Half; or a Club a copy of our " Casket for y person getting up a Club er an extra copy of the Ma- To every person getting up nd both the "Casket" and id entitled to the "Gaskei," ^ratuitoasly, if written for, PETERSOir, , PHII.ADBi:.PHIA.r y •' r OG^T- IKi ' T. II. KUWm & IIII()TIIKIlS'J'rillJt.\T10\S. The Books on this Papo are tin Best and Latest Publications by the most Popular and Ctkbrated Writers in the V/orld, Thoy are also tho most Readable and Eatcrtainicg Books publiehed. SuUila for il& ii;»jr, L::.'q, Iw^i] L.2, k^^:^:!, yUaiL^i, or LnirA iivadiLj, PURLISHEO AND FOR SALF. EY PETERSON & BROTHERS, PHILADELPHIA. r. T. B. %^ ^^ «»^ ■K^ -V^ «^ «.^ %^ «^ «X%X«^ ^^ V c"iiai«m:s ijiiK lH^hrt^nt K'Htions. 'I'K'I'KIiSoN'S" nrn tin- only I'luiiplctf mid iinir>rtn ••■liti'iiisofrinirl'-'* Dirkonn WorlcscviT piilili-li'il ill till' wmld ; thiy iir.> printed Iroin tlKMiriiriiml I-indon Kdl- tions, iiiid art! tin* only t^diti-itis i)ii!ilis|i..il in tliis cntiiitry. N>i lilir^ny, fitluT piilillc or |iriviit<', (Mil !)(' cumjiliii' witln'iit luiviii;; in it ii i'iMii]>li'tM mII nf ilie ^tirk'i (jf tluH, tlin u'rc';iti'>t iif all liviii;' aiitliiirs. Kvcry family ^lplllld jHisst'sx a iett < / Olio of tllij t'llUlolii. Till" ChiMji t'l'ii'iu is l.lll.l,.>l:c(l 11^ |,,1|m\vm : Ltt'itle l>4»i-rlt, Prirf r/' ceiit.s. C'lirSsI in:iH St<>i-><':.,/'/'i>«' .VU-.-ntfl. Piiliivlrk I'lipfiM r.O Dlckfiis' \f\v StorlCM, :ii) Illt-ak IIniiK«> Unvld Coi»|H'rncIi-y and Son, Nlcholuti Alekleliy, j i'^laitla Cliii7.7.3t ivU... . ' IIi«r!ia!)y RiulfVf, I <}}«l (iiiJoslly S!i(i}t,.... S:ntcli«x Uy «»llo7.," Ollvtr TwJst, -flO^ - — LIBRARY OCTAVO EDITION. w(l ti II II «l It 41 TIiIh Edition Isroiniib d' in SIX vtTV larL'" mi.ivo volumes, with h I'ortrHlt on f^twl of Charlon Ditlieiis, containing,' all of tlie al"iv« worliN, bound ia varii'US styles. Price of a sett, in Hhick cloth, $0.00 Scarlet cl.ilh, extra, ^ 10.00 Law I-ihrarv htvie 11. OO Half Turkey, or Half Calf, 13,00 Half calf, luarhled eilu'e>, French, U..')0 Half calf, rei!l ancirnt anticiue, IS.OO Half calf, full yilt hack.s, etc IS.OO ILLUSTRATED OCTAVO EDITION. THIS EPITION IS IN THIRTEEN VOLl'MES, ivnd is printed on rery tinck and fluo white paper, and is profusely illustrated with all the ori^rinal Illustration» by Cruik.shank, Alfred CroW'iuill, I'hiz, etc., from the ori^'inul I,ondon editions, on copper, steel, and wood. Each voluino contains a novel complete, and may be had separately, beautifully botiinl in cloth. Trice One Dollar and Fifty ceut.s each. Price of a sett, in Ulack cloth, in Thirteen v.00 Half calf, marbled edi^es, French, 'J'l.i'jQ Half calf, ancitMit antiiine, .'59.00 Half calf, full gilt back.s, etc 39.00 II 11 II .-fO M ,1 U) ' rA) .00 S(v) Copies of any of the above Works will be sent by Mail to any one. Free C" l.s»'sM & "\VM : ,1'rire /Sii cent*!. U,.... .-.0 " .W " ," :,o " .00 " 'iirtrait on Ktoel ii>us stylca. IIO.OO 10.00 11 (K) l.'J.OO U..')0 is.oo IS.OO Q N. on Tpry tliick ill Illustrations Ion editions, on md iiiiiy be had ly cents oiicL. J(lf).00 2(i00 2i>.00 32.i>0 .SP.OO 39.00 any one, Free C' & Brothers /S •s. r