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32X

SAM SLICK'S WISE SAWS

AND

.MODEEN INSTANCES

OR,

AVHAT HE SAID, DID, OR INVENTED.

"Quicquid agunt homines, votum, tiraor, ira voluptas
Gaudia" jjjv.

" The proper study of mankind is man.

-POPE.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON:

HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHEES,

SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN,

13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

1853.

^rtjr -■»-* f**^-Z^'S

V. 1

io^sio

'!, *

LONDON :

Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.

ALEXANDER HALIBURTON, ESQ.,

THE

FOLLOWING SKETCHES

ABE

DEDICATED

BY HIS FRIEND AND KINSMAN,

THE AUTHOR.

LONDON, MAY 9, 1853.

CONTENTS

THE FIRST VOLUME.

INTRODUCTOEY LETTER

CHAPTER I.

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT

CHAPTER n.

STEALING A SPE.^.CII

PAGR

CHAPTER III.

EVERyTHI>G IN GENERAL, AND NOTHING IN PARTI-
CULAR gQ

CHAPTER IV.

THE BLACK HAWK ; OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER ... 84

CHAPTER V.

OLD BLOWHARD ... iio

XX*

CHAPTER VI.

THE widow's son ioq

1<6<7

CONTENTS.

ClIAl'TER VJI.

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREI

CHAPTER Vllf.

THE BEST NATURED MAN IN THE WORLD

CHAPTER IX.

THE BAIT BOX .,

CHAPTER X.

THE WATER-GLASS ; OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE

CHAPTER XL

OLD SAUSAPARILLA FILLS

CHAPTER XII.

THE HOUSE THAT HOPE BUILT

CHAPTER XIII.

THE HOUSE WITHOUT HOPE

CHAPTTR XIV.

AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW FACE

CHAPTER XV.

CHAT IN A CALM ,.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST

I'AOK

159

179

TOO

208

230

256

282

302

319

I'AdK

110

lu'J

loo

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

208

230

256

282

302

319

Slickville. April, 1852.

My dear Squire,

Since I parted with you I have led a sort of
wanderin', ramblin' hfe, browsin' here to-day,
and there to-morrow, amusin' myself arter my old
way, studyin' human natur', gettin' a wrinckle on
the horn myself for some that I give others, and
doin' a little bit of business by the way to pay
charges, and cover the ribs of my bank book ; not
to say that I need it much either, for habit has
more to do with business now with me than
necessity. The bread of idleness in a gineral
ivay is apt to he stale, and sometimes I consait
it is a little grain sour.

Latterly I have been pretty much to Slickville,
having bought the old humstead from father's

VOL. I.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

heirs, and added to it considerables in buildin's and
land, and begin to tliink sometimes of marry in*.
The fact is, it aint easy to settle down arter itine-
ratin' all over the world so many years as 1 have
doni; without a petticoat critter of om^'s own for
company ; but before I ventur' on that partner-
ship consarn I must make another tour in the
provinces, for atwecn you and me, 1 reckon they
raise handsomer and stronger ladies than we do in
Connecticut, although we do crack for cverlastin*
about beatin' all the world in our " geese, galls,
and onions."

Oh dear, when I think of them are trips I had
with you. Squire, it makes me feel kind of good
all over ; but there will be amusement enough left
for another tour, you may depend. Fun has no
limits. It is like the human race and face ; there
is a family likeness among all the species, but they
all differ. New combinations produce new varie-
ties. Humour puts me in mind of the kaleido-
scope, or pattern-makers' box ; give it a shake up,
and there is a new figure every time — that is, if
the box aint empty. If it is, you can neither
shake anything in or out of it, as many a school-
master knows to his cost. But a man who has
an eye for fun sees it in everythin' — verily, even
the demure Quaker catches and enjoys it.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 3

The worst of it is, it is hard to rcmcmb: it
long; for the mind is like a slate — one thing
gets ruh'd out for another. The only way is to
enter it down at the foot of the day's work ; so
I guess I'll keep a journal, and send it to you.
It would make a new book for you, such as " Wise
Saws and Modern Instances," or " Sam Slick in
Sarch of a Wife," or some such name.

There is a work called " The Horse," and
another called "The Cow," and "The Dog,"
and so on ; why shouldn't there be one on
" The Galls ?" They are about the most difficult
to choose and to manage of any created critter,
and yet there aint any dependable directions
about pickin' and choosin' of them. Is it
any wonder then so many fellows get taken in
when they go for to swap hearts with them ?
Besides, any one can find a gentleman that
keeps a livery-stable to get him a horse to order ;
but who can say, " This is the gall for your
money ?'^

No, Sir, it is a business that must be done by
yourself, and no one else. I guess this will be
the last of my rambles, and I hope to see you
while I am spyin' into the wigwams in your dig-
gins. I must say I feel kinder lonely here some-
vxmes, tho' I aint an idle man nother, and can

VOL. 1. B 2

' «* " ' -I- '

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

turn my hand to anythin' amost ; but still there
is days when there is nothin' that just suits to
go at to fill up the gap, and them's the times
we want a friend and companion. I have spent
some wet spells and everlastin' long winter evenins
lately in overhaulin' my papers completin' of
them, and finishin' up the reckonin' of many
a pleasant, and some considerable boisterous days
passed in different locations since we last parted.
I have an idee you would like to see them, and
have packed them all up; and if I don't meet
with you, I guess I'll give them to a careful hand
who will deliver them safe along with my sayin's
and doin's on this trip. a

I haven't methodized them yet ; they are pro-
miscuous, like my trunk. When I put my hand
in for a stock, in a general way, I am as like to
pull out a pair of stockins as not, and when I
fish for stockins, I am pretty sure to haul up a
pocket-handkercher. Still they are all there, and
they are just as well that way as any other, for
there aint what you call a connected thread to
them Some of them that's wrote out fair
was notched down at the time, and others are
related from memory. I am most afeard some-
time^ tho' I hadn't ought to be, that you'll think
there is a bit of brag here and there, and now

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

11 there
suits to
3 times
'e spent
evenins
?tin' of
f many
us davs

parted.
3m, and
.'t meet
'ul hand

sayin's

ire pro-
ly hand
like to
when I
111 up a
e, and
er, for
ead to
t fair
Ts are
some-
think
now

and then a hit of bunkum, and that some things
are made out of whole cloth altogether. It's
nateral fr " others to think so, Squire ; and who
cares what the plague they do think ? But you
ought to know and be better sartified, 1 reckon,
than to get into a wrong pew that way. I
shouldn't wonder a morsel, if you publish them,
that folks will say my talk and correspondence
with great statesmen to England and sich big
bugs, was the onlikeliest thing in the world.

Well, so it is, but it is a nateral truth for all
that. Facts are stranger than fiction, for things
happen sometimes that never entered into the
mind of man to imagine or invent. You know
what my position was as attache to our embassy
at the court of St. James Victoria, and that I
was charge when embassador went to Oxford and
made that splendiferous speech to the old dons,
to advise them to turn Unitarians, and made a
tour of the country and spoke like a ten-horse
steam-engine on agriculture, at the protection
dinners ; and it was ginnerally allowed that his
was the best orations on the subject ever heard,
tho' it's well known to home he couldn't tell a
field of oats from a field of peas, nor mangels
from turnips, if he was to be stoned to death with
the old Greek books at the college, and buried

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

under the entire heap of rubbish. And you know
that I was head of the Legation also, when he
was absent in France a-sowin' some republican
seed, which don't seem to suit that climate.

I told him afore he went, that our great
nation was the only place in the world where
it would ripen and bear fruit. Republics,
Squire, like some apples, thrive only in certain
places. Now, you can't eat a Newtown pippin
that's raised in England, and blue-noses have
winter fruit to Nova Scotia that keeps all the
year round, that we can't make nothin' of at
Rhode Island. Theory and practice is two dif-
ferent things. But he was a collegian, and
they know more about the dead than the
livin', a plaguy sight; but that is neither here
nor there.

Well, rank is no obstacle in our way, tho' it
would be in yourn (for we claim to be equal
with the proudest peer in the realm), and then
the book you published under my name did the
rest for me. It is no wonder then I was on
those te;ms of intimacy with the uppercrust
people to London (and bashfulness rubs off
in America long before the beard comes ; in
short, we aint much troubled with it at no
time, that's a fact). Now, that will explain

— J iitlli.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

matters to you. As for other people, if they
get on a wrong track, they will find it out when
they reach the eend of it, and a night spent
in the woods will cool their consait.

No, I wouldn't sort the articles, only select
them. Where the story is too long, clip a bit
off; where it wants point, pass it over; but
whatever you do, don't add to them, for I
am responsible and not you ; and if I have
got some praise in my time, I have got my share
of abuse too, I can tell you. Somehow or ano-
ther, folks can't hear to hear the truth, when
it just convenes to their own case ; hut when
it hits their neighbours, oh ! then there is no
eend to their cheerin\ pattin* you on the hack
and stuhoyin' you on.

Father was very fond of doggin' other folks'
cattle out of his fields, but when neighbour
Dearborn set his bull-tarrier on ourn, the old
gentleman got quite huffy, and said it was very
disrespectful. What old Colonel Crocket said
to me was the rail motto for an author as well
as a statesman : " First be sure you are right,
Sam," said he, " and then go ahead like Statiee."
Them that you don't select or approbate put
carefully away. Thfiy will serve to recal old
times to my mind, and I must say I like to

,sf

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

think of the past sometimes. Travellin' is
always pleasant to me, because I take the
world as I find it. A feller who goes through life
with a caveson in one hand and a plaguy long
whalebone whip in the other, a halter, breakin*
of every sinner he meets, gets more hoists than
thanks in a gineral way, I can tell you. My
rule is to let every one skin his owiji foxes. It
aint worth while to be ryled if you can help it,
especially at things you can't alter or cure.
Grumblin' and groulin' along the road, findin'
fault with this and scoldin' at that, is a poor
way to travel. It makes a toil of a plea-
sure.

Now, an Englishman goes through the journey
of life like a bear with a sore head, as cross as
Old Scratch himself. The roads are bad, the
bosses bad, the inns bad, and the bill extortionate.
He can't eat homemade bread, the eggs aint
poached right, the ham is hard, and he hates
pork as bad as a Jew. The veal is staggerin*
bob, and the mutton rank or poor, the tea is
nothin' but choped hay and water ; cotton sheets,
tho' they be white and clean, are only fit for
summer horse-cloths ; he can't stand a taller
candle — the smell pysins him. A wood-fire puts
his eyes out, roasts one side of him while the

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

other is raw and cold. Even the galls aint
pretty ; if they blush when he stares at them,
he sais it is a bad sign — they know too much ;
and if they don't, he sais they are forrard and
impedent ; but he goes right off into a fit at seein*
me turn an egg out into a wine-glass. When I
see him in one o' them are tantrums, a twitchia'
of his face and a jerkin' about of bis limbs arter
that fashion, like one possessed by St. Vitus' dance,
I call for my horse, and say to the gentleman
that keeps the inn, " Friend," says I, " get some
help and hold the poor misfortunate stranger's
head, arms, and legs down so he can't hurt
himself; clap a piece of wood across his mouth
to keep him from a-bitin' of his tongue, give him
a large dose of spirits of terpentine, and put him
to bed. That's all that can be done for, him for
he is incurable. Good mornin'," and I makes tracks.
Such a critter as that returns home commonly with
no more knowledge and manners than when he
set out. The imagination has a shadow as
well as the hody^ that keeps just a little ahead
of youy or follows close behind your heals ^ it
don't do to let it frighten you. Blue-nose is
nearly as bad and ugly in his ways as John Bull.

One of them said to me onct down to Nova
Scotia: , . - , > .. ;

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

" Oh, Mr. Slick, aint it dreadful journeyin'
here in the spring. There is nothin' but veal,
veal, veal for everlastinly to eat here. — I am
actilly starved to death."

Sais I, " Friend, so was I at first ; I eat of so
many calves one spring, I was actilly ashamed to
look a cow in the face for six months ; but at
last I found there was more ways of dressin' veal
than one, and more things to be had to eat if
you know'd what to ask for. Folks always give
me the best they have, and when that's the case
I always say, them that ain't content with the best
that can be got had better go without, for there
is no coiupulsion in it. GrumhlirC spiles the
relish and hurts the digestion. Tell you what,
friend. The bee, though he finds every rose
has a thorn, comes back loaded with honey from
his rambles ; and why shouldn't other tourists do
the same ? That's the wav to shorten the road,
lessen the toil, and make travellin' pleasant."

" Cheap talkin', Mr. Slick," said he, " but I
aint used to it ; and if I onct reach my com-
fortable home, catch me leavin' it again for such
an outlandish place as this. I am half-frozen to
death with the cold." ■ - '

" Well," says I, (for I knew^ more of him than
he dreamed of,) "it is cold, that's a fact; and

-rr f ^r wm ^

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

lan
ind

it's lucky for you, you have a comfortable home —
tho' I have known many a man's house made
too hot for him sometimes afore now. For my
part, I'de as leaf travel as stay home with a
scoldin' wife, cryin' children, and a smoky chim-
ney."

If you'd a seed the puzeled look he gave to my
innocent face, 'twould have done you good. It
was as much as to say : " Confound them ran-
dom shots. I vow you hit me that time tho'
you didn't take aim." Them's the sort of fel-
lows that make the greatest fuss at hotels always.
If travellers have to put up with a goodeal
sometimes, so have innkeepers too, that's a fact.

A nigger now is a pattern man. He sings bits
of soiigs, or plays on the Jew's-harp, or whistles
all the way, throws stones at the birds, mocks
the squirrel's chirrupin' out of fright at his black
face ; and when the little dogs rush out o' the
houses and bark at him as he passes along, he
stops, bow-wows at them, and chases them home
again, and then roars out a larfin' till the woods
fairly ring with his merry yagh, yagh, yagh.

At night, the way he tucks in his supper is a
caution to a boa-constrictor, for it would give him
the dispepsy.

Free quarters are pleasant things for them who

M*^

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

hante got nothin' to pay with, so next day he
oversleeps himself on purpose, and instead of
findin' fault with his accommodation, finds fault
with his own feet, and pretends for to limp,
and the children won't let him go. Afore
dinner, says he : " Missis lend me the axe, please,
till I chop you up a lovely lot of fire-wood, and
split enough kindlin' stuff to heat the oven for
a week ;" aiid the way he makes chips fly aint
no matter.

Then he turns to and piles it up in the porch
snug, and fetches in a great big back log the
chimney-place will hardly hold — large enough
araost for an ox to pull.

" Missis, let me draw you a bucket of water.
Dem are beautiful little hands o' yourn is too
soft for de well-pole. Come, young masters,
sposen you comes along wid me 'and see Juba
carry a full bucket on his head and nebber spill
a drop, tho' poor Juba's feet berry tender now
from travellin* on dem are prepostilous hard
roads.'* . , t

I guess he aint asked to stay another day and
aint told he is welcome ! Oh ! of course not !
Then he has been a great traveller, bavin' onct
made a trip to Jamaica, and has wonderful stories
to tell that beat British officers' tiger hunts all

INTRODUCTORY LETTER,

to rags. The cocoa-nuts were so big th{;rc, he
was obliged to wear an iron skillit on his pate
for fear they might fall from the treos and split
it open ; and one day the monkeys caught him
asleep, slipt off the pot, and stole it to cook their
victuals in. True as rates, masters, and not a
word of regraggeration in it, I do assure you.

That was the boy to find a welcome. The
youngsters actilly cried when he went away, gave
him a handful of cents, and walked two miles
on the road with him to hear his stories of sharks
and whales.

There is another advantage of this temper, that
even niggers don't know ; you can larn as you
travel. I larned more from talk in London than
ever I did in books in my life, and noted it
better. For example — as they say in cypherin'
books — I sit alongside of a larned man at some
grand dinner ; now larned men in a gineral way
are all as stupid as owls, they keep a devil of a
thinkin', but they don't talk. So I stirs up old
Heroglyphic with a long pole ; for it's after dark
lights is lit, and it's time for owls t^ wal o- up and
gaze.

" I have been tryin' to read that are book on
Ninevah," said I. '' < "

" Oh !" sais he, " what do you think of it ?"

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

" It wants the pickaxe and crowbar/' sais I.

" Pickaxe and crowbar !" sais he, for that
ni him turn half round, and open hi^ eyes and
stare.

Only surprise a man, Squire, and he can't help
listenin'.

" I call it a hard case," said I. " The author
has spent amost a mortal long time in diggin'
up these curiosities that have been onder ground
Lord knows how many centuries, and now he has
gone right off, and buried them all again in a
book, as hard to get into as the old vaults."

" Exactly," said he ; " you have just hit it —
very well expressed, and very graphically — that
is the principal defect in the book."

" P'raps, Sir," said I, " you would be kind
enough to sumtotalise for me the amount of
his discoveries in a few words too, for I won't
bore you," said I.

Well in ten minutes you have the whole ; and
if you want an explanation, he is just the boy
to give it. It's just the same now in a log-hut.
The settler, poor lonely, honest, simple critter ,
haint no book larnin', but he is acquainted with
some things you aint, that's a fact. I never
met a man yet that couldn't give me a wrinkle,
from a captain of one of our men-of-war in the

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

Meditcrranoan, that I heard tell Ladv B-

— the

way to j)(;cl onions without tinglin' her eyes, was
to hold a pin hetween her teeth, down to Sinful
Joy the nigger at the three mile plains, who gave
me the wonderful cure for jaundice I hoast so
much of.

At every turn there is somethin' to observe
and remember, which, old tho' it be, is new to
you — some impliment, some machine, some
strange culture of curious plants, and things put
to uses you never dreamed of, is turnin' up all
the time. It was in Persia I larned the art of
stupifyin' fish, and makin' them float on the
surface, without hurtin' them, for food ; and the
first chance I get, I will try it in the mackerel
fishary. It was at a Quaker's in Genesee I first
met with the little windmill for sawing my fire-
wood I have to Slickville, and in South America
I larned to pyscn an arrow that killed deer
instantly without afl'ectin' the venison, and in
France the way to hatch fish-spawn, and on the
Rhone the wonderful but simple and cheap plan
of the Romans of buildin' houses of loam supe-
rior to bricks. It was by travellin' I picked up
that valuable collection of receipts I showed you
onct.

But the greatest advantage of all of this itine-

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

lii

ration is, you can look back with pleasure on travel.
You forget the little ups and downs, and crosses
and losses, and bumps and thumps, and brambles
and scrambles by the way ; but memory has it
all sketched out in landscapes like, rail handsome
for you, that imagination has helped to put in
gilt frames. And tho' the forrest in them paintins
contains rocks, underbrush, and boggy spots, where
you slumped about, broke down, or lost your
way, you see nothin' in the background but a
mass of wavin' wood, or in the foreground but
green fields, windin* roads, and smooth rivers.
Time has mellowed the pictur'.

Yes, I can and do often stop short, turn round,
shade the sun off my eyes with my hands, and
look back at my travels over this unevarsel world
with pleasure. But if it was all barren, all dark,
all hardship, and all privation, as some grumblin'
fools find it, what in natur' would life be ? Why,
it wouldn't be endurable ; it 'ed give pain, and
not pleasure. You'd be afraid to look back be-
cause it would awaken onpleasant recollections,
and you'd be skeered to look forred ; for if the
world don't please you when young, it can't, in the
natur' of things, when you are old, that's a fact.
That's my philosophy, at least, and so it is Black
Juba's also.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

My plan is this. / seek the sunny side of
life always, unless the weather is too hot, and
then I go to the shade. The changes in the tem-
perature make me enjoy both.

And now havin* written you this epistle, 1
shall turn round to the fire, light my cigar, put
my feet up on the mantel-piece, and enjoy a
smoke, and think of old times. Hoping to hear
soon from you,

I remain, dear Sir,

Your faithful friend,

Sam Slick.

VOL. I.

1 1

'■<>.

SAM SLICK'S WISE SAWS

AND I

MODERN INSTANCES.

CHAPTER I.

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

Before leaving the States for the lower pro-
vinces, I went up to Washington, to meet some
old friends assembled there, that I had known
to England, as well as to see the President, who
wanted me to accept the office of a commissioner,
and to report privately to him on the fisheries
on the shores of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick,
and Prince Edward Island. I dined quietly with
him one day, a discussing the latter subject, and
its importance to our coasting and interior trade,
when he pressed the office on me in rael
aernest.

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" We don't work for nothin'you know, Mr. Slick,"
sais he, " things aint fixed up right, when you only
find paper, quills, and tape, there must be some-
thin' to keep the pen agoin, besides fingers and
ink. You will be paid liberally, as It becomes
our great nation, for your services; and what
do you say to my placin' a naval schooner at
your disposal to make your tour in, and to protect
?ur fishermen? Wouldn't that more comport
with dignity, and be goin' the whole figure, and
doin' the thing genteel?"

" Thank you. Sir," sais I, " a national vessel
would spile all, it would make folks scary about
talkin' to me; and as our citizens are breakin'
the treaty all the time, we mustn't sanction it
like, openly and officially, but just wink at it,
and pass on, as if we didn't see it or know it.
None are so blind as those that won't see, and
nothin' is so easy as to hood- wink them that's
too inquisitive. Oh, dear ! how often, President,
I have larfed ready to die, at the way I made a
custom-house officer at Bangor wink. I smuggled
— no, I won't say that, for I'd scorn to smuggle,
it's a low thing; but I imported several times
British goods to that city from Nova Scotia, but
forgot to enter them regular, and when Bigelow
Pineo, the officer, came to search (a very pious,

vitttlH^i

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

consciencious man he was too, an elder among the
elect, and an awful large seven-foot down-easter ;
they used to call him Big Pineo), ' Brother Pineo,'
sais I, 'verily I'm glad to see you; how is the
good lady to hum, and the little Bigs, eh ? None
of 'em, I guess, will ever make the man their
father is, as Widow Atwater said to me, when
she first sot eyes on you: Laws me, Mr. Slick,
who is that noble-lookin' man? he is the hand-
somest I ever saw in all my born days. My ! i
what a fine man !' "

" * Friend Slick,' he would say, with an inward
chuckle, like a half-grunt, and a half-cough
(Christian men never larf), *thee aint improved,
I see, by being among the heathen colo-
nists, that live away down where the sun
riseth. What in natur' hast thee got in all these
trunks?'

" * Smuggled good ,' sais 1, * of course/

" ' Oh yes !' sais he ; * and if they were,
thee wouldst fetch them here to be seized, of
course ! How soft thee is !'

"And then he gave another chuckle at that
bright idea of hisn, that made his chest heave
again. 'But,' sais I, 'look for yourself^ brother,
and sarch well. Here's my spectacles/ and I took

'^'■ijc.n

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

out a pair of tortoise-shell ones, that had the
glasses slipt out, and two gold eagles slipt
m.

" * What in the world are these ?' sais he.

" * Magnifiers,' sais I. * Put them on, and
nothin' will escape you ; and if you can't see through
them at first, practice will soon make you parfect.
Accept 'em for my sake, for they are curiosi-
ties, that's a fact. The benighted colonists wear
them, when the sun shines, to keep it from
hurtin' their eyes. But come, that's a good
man, put the chalk mark on my traps right ofi',
for I w^ant to be a movin'.'

" Well, he put the spectacles in his pocket ;
and as he stooped down to chalk the trunks, sais
he : ' Verily thee is diiferent from other men, in
all thee doeth ; seein' I can take no fees, thee
hast adopted this mode to obviate a hard law.
If these trunks contained smuggled goods, of a
sartainty thee wouldst not fetch them here, so I
will mark them.'

" No, President, we must wink, or put on solid
gold spectacles, like Bigelow Pineo, and look
without seein'. I would prefer going down in
one of our coastin' vessels, careless-like, slippin'
into this harbour, and dodgin' into that, and while

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

•23

the captain is tradin' here and tradin' there pick
up all the information I want. If we had them
fisheries, they would be worth more to us than
California."

" I think so too," sais he. " I had no idea of
their immense extent until lately. I actilly saw
a barrel of Nova Scotia mackerel the other day,
with the Halifax brand on it, away up to the
Rocky Mountain. Fact, I assure you. However,
consider yourself on pay from this time, six dollars
per day for wages, and six dollars more for tra-
velling expenses; and if you have to cha»"tjr a
vessel, draw for the amount."

" President," sais I, " that's what I call hand-
sum now. But as I shall be gone for a con-
siderable spell, for I want a trip of pleasure as
well as business, I will take care there is no extra
charge."

, " Well, Uncle Sam, Sir," sais he, " is able
and willin' to pay for all ; and your report will
carry great weight with it, for it is well known
you have spent a great deal of time in the pro-
vinces, and know the people better than any of
our citizens do. To-morrow you will receive your
commission, and letters accreditin' you to our
consuls, and to the governors of the different
colonies."

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

When this affair was settled, sais he, " Mr.
Slick, did you know Lord Horton, him that's
Lord Aylsford now, when you was to England ?"
" Knowed him well," sais L
" Is he as smart a man as folks say ?"
" Guess he is all that, and more too," sais I,
" he is a whole team and a horse to spare — that
man. He was among the last persons I visited
when I was leavin' the embassy ; the last man I
heard speak in the Commons, and the last I
supped with to London. A night or two afore I
left town, I went down to the House of Commons.
I don't often go there. It's stupid work, and more
than half the time routine business, while the other
half of it is a re-hash of old speeches. Twice
laid dishes I can stand, salt fish and corn beef
twice laid I sometimes consait is as good as when
first cooked; but old speeches served over and
over again go again the appetite. However,
having iiothin' above common to do, and hearin'
there was to be a bit of a flare-up, down I goes, and
who should be speakin' but Horton, him they
now call Aylsford. What the plague they change
the name for that way, I don't know. If they
want to promote a man to a higher degree, such
as baron (and Lord knows some of their heads
are barren enough) to be an earl, and an earl to

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

be a marquis, and so on, well and good — but the
name ought to be kept, for the change only bothers
folks. *

"Who in the world would suppose now that
Lord Dundonald was the same man as the great
Lord Cochran — the greatest naval hero, next to
Nelson, England ever had. It's an actual fact, I
knew him a whole year afore I found it out, and
only then by accident ; for, like all brave men, he
never talks of his everlastin' battles. But this is
neither here nor there ; the English have a way
of their own, and it is no use talkin' to them,
obstinate they are, and obstinate they will be to
the eend of the chapter."

" Exactly," said the President, " that's my idea
to a T, when Lord Amphlitt was out here some
years ago, I knowed him. General Ichabod
Shegog came to me one day, and sais he,
* There's an English lord to the Treemont ; would
you like to go and have a look at him ?'

" ' Well, I would,* sais I, * that is a fact, for I
never see one in my life ; but how shall we rig
up?' - .-

" * Why,* sais he, * I guess I'll go in a general*s
uniform, and you had better go fuU fig as a grand
master mason, for the dress is splendid.*

" And we did so ; the lord was gracious and

/ ii

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

affable, and a considerable smart man, I tell you.
He seemed a good deal struck with our appear-
ance, and I thought he felt a little mean, seein'
that he warnt dressed for company, for he had
nothin' on but a common frock coat, plaid
trowsers, and buff waistcoat, coloured neckcloth,
and great thick-soled shoes, and short gaiters. I
guess he had to t^ail pretty close to the wind, for
they do tell me the nobility are all over head and
ears in debt to England. Heavens and airth how
the Gineral raved when he came out. '

"'What,' sais he, 'that little fellow a lord?
have they no better timber to Britain to make
one out of than that ondersized half-starved look-
ing critter? Well I vow I never want to see
another lord, 'til I see the Lord Jehovah.'

"But Shegog warnt much of a man of the
world, and, what's wuss, he is so chock full of
concait, he never will be. The lord was short,
there's no doubt of that, but he could not help it,
for he would have growed more, I do suppose, if
he could. Lord Amphlitt was not a bad name for
the poor critter — was it ? a small book is called a
pamphlet, and he was one-eighth smaller than that ;
but a small house, after all, well filled is better
than an empty palace. " i

" Now who the plague would have guessed that

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

that Lord Amphlitt is the same as Lord Scilly ?
If it warnt for the Scilly Light on the chart, I
should never recollect his name, 'til the end of
time ran out. But go on."

" Well, as I was sayin', Horton had the floor,
and if he didn't talk it into em, it's a pity. He's a
pretty speaker, the best I've heard in England by
a long chalk, and the best proof that what he said
hit hard, was you might have heard a pin fall.
It's a different kind of speakin' from what our
great guns use, and I aint quite sure I don't like
it better. There is less oration and more business
in it, it's all to the point, or good guards and
blows well planted. He was at a rival lord, and
he sartainly did make the little man look small
enough, you may depend.

" Well, the next day, we had a grand dinner at
the embassador's. Diplomatists, statesmen, and
the gracious knows who all were there. Well,
among them was Lord Horton; but I couldn't
get a chat with him then, for dinner was served
as soon as he arrived, but I managed it in the
evenin'.

" Lord Dunk Peterborough, or some such name,
sat alongside of me, and took to praisin' our great
nation at a great pace. It fairly took me in at
first, I didn't see his drift ; it was to draw me out,

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

and set mc a boastin* and a braggin' I do suppose.
And I fell into th(! trap before 1 knowed it.

" Arter trottin' me round a bit, sais he, * Your
minister is a worthy representative of your glorious
country. He is a scholar and a gentleman. One of
his predecessors did nothing but compare. If you
showed him a pack of hounds, they were nothing
to what hundreds had in Virginia and the southern
States. If a fine tree, it was a mere walking stick
to an American one. If a winning race-horse, he
had half a dozen that would, as he expressed it,
walk away from him like nothing ; and so on.
Well, there was another who could talk of
nothing but satinettes, coarse cotton, the slave
trade, and what he used to call New England
domestics. It is refreshing to find your nation
so well represented.*

" All this was said as civil as you please, you
could not fault his manner a bit ; still I can't say
I quite liked it. I knew there was some truth in
it; but how little or how much I couldn't tell,
not bein* much of a scholar. Thinks I to myself,
I'm a man more used to givin' than takin' pokes,
and never could keep 'em long without returnin'
them with interest. So go on, I'll see what you
are about, and then I rather guess I can take my
part with you. y '

f-"^«- -

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" Sais he, * I'm told his Latin is very pure.'
*' * It's generally allowed there can't be no better,'
sais I, * there is nobody to Cambridge — our Cam-
bridge I mean — that can hold a candle to him.'

" ' It's ftiUy equal,' sais he, * to the generality of
the monastic Latin of the middle ages.'

" I was adrift here : I didn't like the expression

of his eye — it looked quizzical ; and I must say,

when larned subjects come on the carpet, I do

feel a little grain streaked, for fear I shall have

to confess ignorance, or have to talk and make

a fool of myself. Thinks I to myself, if his

Latin is good, why didn't he say it was as good

as what the Latins spoke or wrote, and not stop

half-way at what Minister used, I am sure, to call

the dark ages ? However, I'll look quizzical too,

and put my best foot out.

^ , " * As good as that of the middle ages ?' sais I ;

'r*why, that's not sayin' much for it either. Aint

'^ he a middle-aged man himself? and hasn't he

*^ been at it all his life f

'^ " * Well, Slick,' sais he, ' that's uncommon
«' good ; that's one of the best things I have heard
' for a long time, and said so innocently too, as
'- if you really meant it. Capital, by Jove ! Come,
' I like that amazingly.'

" Thinks I to myself, it's more than I do then ;

CHAT WITH THE PRFSIDENT.

for I didn't understund you, and I don't know the
mcanin' of what I said myself But I'll pay you
oflF himeby, Master Dunk — sec if I don't.

" Sais ho, lowcrin' his voice, confidential-like,
' What a pity it is that he is a Unitarian !'

" Now, thinks I, my hoy, I've got you off dead
languages in upon Uvin' subjects, I'll play with
vou as a cat docs with a mouse.

" * He wouldn't be an honest man, if he warn't,*
sais I ; * he'd be beneath contempt.'

" * Well,' sais he, ' I never argue about reli-
gion, and will therefore not pursue the subject
farther ; but it creates a great prejudice here.'

" * Religion,' sais I, * my gnod friend,' lookin'
all amazed, * why, what in natur' has religion to
do with it ? It has neither art nor part in it.'

** ' Exactly,' said he, * that's the very point.
People here think a Unitarian little better than an
infidel.' ^^

" 'Then you might,' sais I, 'just as well say
a Tory was an infidel, or a Whig, or a Pro-
tectionist, or a Free Trader, or anybody else ;
there would be just as much sense in it. I
believe in my heart the English will never under-
stand us.'

" ' Pray, muy I ask,' said he, ' what you call
a Unitarian ?' .

' t'^

CHA.T WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" * Sartuiiily,' says I ; 'for when tolks go to
argue, they ought first to know what they arc
talkin' ahoiit ; to drfino their terms, and see they '
understand each other. I'll tell you in a few
words what a Unitarian is.'

" Just then, Minister speaks up, (and it's a
curious thing, talk of the devil, and he is sure
to heave in sight directly), * Pass the wine,
Mr. Slick I'll help myself.' 'And push it
on, your Excellency,' sais I ; * but I never pass
wine — it aint considered lucky in Slickville.'
This made a lauj^li and a devarsion, and I con-
tinues : ' You see, my Lord, our general Govern-
ment is a federal one, exercisin' sartain powers
delegated to it by the separate States, which,
with this exception, are independent sovereign-
ties. Every State is a unit, and those units
form a whole ; but the rights of the separate
States are as sacred as the rights of the Govern-
ment to Washington ; and good patriots every-
where stand by their own units, and are called
Unitarians; while some are for strengthenin' the
general Government, at the expense of the indi-
vidual sovereignty, and these are called Federalists;
and that's the long and the short of the matter.
And what on airth religion has to do with these
nicknames, I don't know.'

ltJ«*«»^'-'i ll.«-

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" Sais he, * I never knew that before ; I thought
Unitarians were a religious sect, being another
name for Socinians, and I am very glad to hear
this explanation/

" Thinks I, I hope it will do you good ; it is as
good as middle-age Latin, at any rate.

" After some further talk, sais he, * Your
Minister is not a very easy man to get acquainted
with. Is he a fair specimen of the New Englanders ?
for he is very cold.'

" Here's at you again, Master Lord Dunk,
sais I J you ain't quite sold yet, though you are
bespoke — that's a fact. * Well,' sais I, ' he is
cold, but that's his misfortune, and not his fault :
it's a wonder to me he aint dead long ago. He
will never be quite thawed out. The chill went
into his marrow.'

"'What chill?' sais he; 'is not that his
natural manner ?'

" ' How can you ask such a question as that,
my Lord ?' sais L ' When he left College as a
young man, he entered into the ice trade to supply
New Orleens with ice, and a grand spec he made
of it ; but it near upon cost him his life. He was a
great hand to drive business, and if you want to
drive business with us, you must work yourself. '
He was at the ice lake day and night amost, a I

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

handlin' of it ; and the last vessel he loaded that
year he went in her himself. His berth was near
the companion-ladder, the best berth in the ship,
but it jines on to the hold, and the chill of that
ice cargo, especially when he got into the hot
climate of New Orleens, so penetrated his jints,
and limbs, and marrow, he has never been warm
since, and never will ; he tells me it's extendin'
upwards, and he is afeard of his heart.'

" Well, he roared right out ; he haw-hawed
as loud as a man cleverly and politely can
at a gentleman's table, and says he : ' That's
the best contrived story to excuse a cold manner
I ever heard in my life. It's capital, upon my
word !' " '

" So it was Slick," said the President ; "it was
well done. That was a first-rate bam ! But I
must say, some of the New England straight-laced
folks are mortal cold — that's a fact, and the worst
of it is, it ain't intermittent ; they are iced down
o'en amost to the freezin'-point, and the glass
always stands there. The ague is nothin' to it,
for that has its warm fits; but some of them
folks have the cold fit always, like Ambassador.
No wonder the Puritans tolerated wine, rum, gin,
brandy, and all that, and forbade kissin' ; it was,
I suppose, to

VOL. I.

34 CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" ' Compound for sins they were inclined to.
By damning those they had no mind to.'

My niece to Charlestown told me, that when her
father's brother came from New Bedford, and
kissed her, he was so cold it actilly gave her the
toothache for a week — fact, I do assure you,
Slick; folks may say what they like, a cold
manner never covered a warm heart ; hot water
imparts a glow even to a silver teapot; biit
go on, I beg pardon for interrupting of you."

" ' There are stranger things, Lord Dunk,' sais
I, *in rael life than in fiction; but an English-
man won't believe in anythin' that aint backed by
a bet. Now I'll tell you a story will astonish
your weak nerves, of a much stronger case than
the Ambassador's chill, and I'll stake a hundred
dollars on its truth with you. You've heard of
General Montgomery,' sais I, 'haven't you, and
his attack on Quebec ?'

" ' I cannot say I have,' he said. ' I think
there was a Frenchman of the name of Mont-
calm, who distinguished himself at Quebec ; but
Montgomery — Montgomery, no, I never heard
of him.'

" ' The fact is, the English got such r. tarnel
lickin' in the revolutionary war, they try to get
rid of the subject by sayin' it was a little pro-

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

hen her
•rd, and

her the
ire you,

a cold
)t water
)ot ; biit

nk,' sais
English-
eked by
astonish
se than
undred
card of
lou, and

think

Mont-

?c ; but

heard

tarnel
I to get
[e pro-

vincial affair, and pretend to know nothin' about
it. Well. Montgomery attacked it in winter, and
pretty nearly carried it under cover of a snow-
storm; but the garrison was prepared for him,
and though it was awful cold weather, gave him
such a warm reception, that he was about to
retire, when he and his two aidecamps were killed
at one shot. He left a good many poor fellows
behind him killed, wounded, and prisoners.
Among them that was nearly froze to death, in
fact he never was the same man afterwards, was
General Peep — he was then Colonel Peep, and
served as a volunteer. He was nearly stiff when
they hauled him in, and then they thrust him into
a cold stone-room, without a fire, and arterwards
sent him to England, where he remained till the
peace. That winter campaign nearly fixed his
flint for him. Talk of Ambassador's chill, bad as
it is, it is nothin' to his. One of his legs never
had any more feelin' in it arterwards. He used
to keep a tavern down to Slickville.*

" ' What ! a General keep a tavern,' said he, and
he opened his eyes wide, and wrinkled the hair of
his head with astonishment.

" ' To be sure,' said I, ' why not as well as any
other citizen ? That's the reason our taverns are
so good, because they are kept by men of honour.

D 2

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

You can't say as much as that of every tavern in
London, I know. Well, I've often seen the old
General sittin' out on his stoop smokin', but the
cigars and liquor of his house never cost him any-
thing ; he made them all out of his leg that had
no feelin' in it. He used to bet folks he could
run a pin further into his leg than they could into
theirs, and in course he always won the day —
and didn't they jump, and screech, and scream
with the pain, when they tried to outdo him !"
Once I saw him win a hogshead of brandy
from the Captain of a Cape Codder that had just
arrived from France, by bettin' him he would run
a pin in clear up to the head, and walk across the
room v;ith it ; and he did it, although 1 must say
he made a plaguey wry face too, as if he had a
little overdone it. „ ,

" ' Well, that beats all natur',' said the Captain ;
* but Gineral, that ere calamity fell on you in
your country's cause; take the brandy, it will
make your leg feel again like a Christian's leg,
and your toes tingle too if you take enough of it ;
and when that is done send me word, and we Cape
Cod skippers will club and send you another one.'

"'You doubted,' sais I, 'my lord, about his
Excellency's chill ; what do you think of this case ?
Aint it a whopper ?' - ; ^/ v 4

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

1 of it ;
Cape
one.'
•* his
lease ?
■I

" * I don't for a moment doubt your word,
Mr. Slick ; and therefore pray don't misunderstand
me,' said he ; ' but there is some m-stake in it.
It is incredible ; for if the leg had been so devoid
of all feeling it would have mortified. There
must have been some slight of hand in this, other-
wise it does appear impossible.'

" * Well,' sais I, ' If I have made a mistake it's
my fault. I'll bet you a hundred dollars that
Minister corroborates it.'

" ' Done !' sais he.

'^ ' And done !' sais I ; and we shook hands.

" Just before the room was vacated, Lord Horton
and Lord Dunk Peterborough bein' the only two
left, I saw it was mv time. Horton had been
talkin' to Minister, and had just made his scrape,
and was for quittin'. Whea he reached the door
he turned and paused.

" * Mr. Slick,' sais he, ' one word with you, if
you please.'

" That was grand ; it was just what I wanted ; a
diversion like in my favour.
' " * In one mir.ute, my lord,' sais I : * only one
minute.'
' " 'Minister,' sais I, 'did you know General Peep?'

" * Very well,' he said, ' for he was a man of
few words.* ' .

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" * Do you recollect the remarkable power he
had,' said I, ' of bcin' able to thrust a pin into
his leg without flinchin' ?'

" * I have seen him do it a hundred times.'

" ' You are sure it penetrated ?' said I.

" * Certain,' said he ; ' quite positive.'

" And then he kind of inclined his body forward,
ds much as to say, ' 1 guess you may go now,' and
we took the hint, bowed, and made off.

" ' Are you satisfied, my lord ?' sais I.

" * I must be,' he answered ; ' the terms have
been complied with, but I cannot understand it
yet. It is the most wonderful thing I ever heard.
I'll send you a cheque in the morning for the
amount of the bet. Good-night.'

" ' Beg pardon, Lord Horton,' sais I, * for
keepin' of you waitin', but I was just referrin' to
Minister to decide a bet between Lord Dunk and
me.'

" ' What day can you come and dine quietly
with me ?' said he. * I want to talk to you very
much on colonial subjects, which no one under-
stands half as well as yourself.' ' i

" * Sorry, my lord,' sais I, ' but I am engaged
every day until my departure, which is by the next
steamer.' ^,

" ' Ah !' said he, ' that's unfortunate. Could

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

you manage to come and take supper with me to-
morrow, for I always eat lightly before going to
bed ? I dine out, but will return early — say half-
past ten ?'

" * With great pleasure,' sais I. * I am goin'
to-morrow where I must go, but where I needn't
stay ;' and we shook hands and parted.

" There is some satisfaction in talkin' to a man
like that, he can talk up to you, or talk down, ns
the case may be ; the other fellow thinks he knows
everything, but he don't know this : It requires a
good stock of wit to set up for a wag ; and that
though quizzirC is very pleasant^ it's a game
that two can play at.

" In the mornin' up comes a draft for one hun-
dred dollars, which I sent back in a note.

" * Dear Lord Dunk,
" ' I return you the cheque, which I cannot
think of retainin' under the circumstances. The
leg which was the subject of the bet was as good
as the monastic Latin of the middle ages, and
like it, was a tolerably good imitation, for it was a
cork one.
n "' Yours always,

. "'Samuel Slick.'

Jould

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

" Now that's what I call sending as good as
you get."

" Exactly," said the President ; " it don't do to
let benighted foreigners take airs before our
citizens, relative to any of our departmental
officers. My ambassadors may not dance as
elegantly as European courtiers, but they can walk
round them in a treaty, that's a fact. I think, we
may fairly boast, Mr. Slick, and it's a fact we
have a right to be proud of, and a sign of great
intellectual superiority, that we have the best of
the bargain in every treaty we have made with
every nation in the world, from the English down
to the Indians. It's a great feather in our cap of
Liberty, Mr. Slick, for it is the feather that forms
at once the warrior's plume and the diplomatist's
pen. You must help me to a hint how to get
these fisheries. Now they are going to biiild rail-
roads through the provinces, I propose to grant, as
an equivalent for the fisheries, leave to use our
lines for the mails, if they prefer it to their own.
We must offer something like an omelette souffle^
that looks large, though it is only a mouthful of
moonshine. You take. Slick, don't you ?"

" A nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse,"
sais I.

" Oh no," he continued ; " our Latin aint

CHAT WITH THE PRESIDENT.

good, and our English aint good — at Last so they
say ; but there is one admission at least they must
make, they have felt that our swords are good.
But go on," said the President, " I want to hear
about Lord Horton. I count it a great privilege
to hear you talk, for you are a man who travels
with your eyes open always."

" / tell you what, President'' sais /, " seein'
is believin' ; hut it aint them that stare the most
who see the best always"

' T-

amt

itUii- ■> ,^4*.-J ii/%.-

•mm

STEALING A SPEECH.

CIIAFfER II.

STEALING A SPEECH.

" Well," sais I, continuin' my confab with
the President the next mornin', " the day after
the bet, I was up to my eyes in business, gettin'
the papers in my charge in order for quittin' the
embassy. We all met at lunch ; it was our great
meal, for it was the hour, you know, we was used
to feed at home, and arter all it seems most proper,
for natur's dinner bell rings at one. Dinner, there-
fore, was only a matter of form arter that, and
used for show and hospitality. Champain was our
liquor, for that's what we use to our hotels, where
it is the best and cheapest wine; there it is the
dearest, but who cares ? Uncle Sam pays for all.
I suppose you don't know that gentleman," sais I,

lU^

STEALING A SPEECH.

with

after
ettin'
the
great
used
oper,
lere-

and

our
here

the

aU.

si,

" President ;" and I gave him a wink. " Well,
I'll tell you who he is.

" You have heard of John Bull, it is the gineral
name of the English, as ' Frog ' is of the French ;
and a capital name it is, for he has all the pro-
perties of that hrute. Brcachy as Old Scratch,
hreakin' down ncighhours' fences, nmnin' off with
other hulls' wives, hellowin' at nothin', ready to
fight evcryhody and everything, and so stupid, if
he sees red cloth he makes right at it, full chizel,
cross-grained, onsartain, and dangerous, you can
neither lead him, nor coax him, nor drive him.
The only way to manage him is to hopple him,
and fortunately he is pretty well hoppled with the
national deht. It's a weight to his heels that
spiles his runnin', and keeps him to home to paw
up the dust and roar for his own amusement.
Well, Uncle Sam is us. Uncle is a nice word,
aint it. Sir ? It's a word of kindness and affec-
tion. He is a hrother of your father or your
mother ; and if he has no chicks of his own, pets
all his nephews and nieces, makes them presents,
sends them to school, pays for their visits, and
whta he dies leaves all his ready rhino to them.
There is nothin' like an uncle, hut * Uncle Sam '
is the president of all uncles. He adopts the
whole nation, and pays all the household of the

STEALING A SPEECH.

State. He is pretty well imposed upon too some-
times. They take it out of him whenever they
can, but pretend all the time that what they do is
for his good and benefit, and swear they haint one
mite or morsel of selfishness in 'em. It's all for
* Uncle Sam.' They'd die by him if it was neces-
sary, but they had a plaguy sight sooner live by
him, that's a fact. Our first uncle was Sam
Washington, and arter that we called them all
Sam. Sister Sail's children — the little cunnin'
ones — call me * Uncl(! Sam,' cause I pays for them
all. Some of these days I hope I shall be Father
Sam, and then I shall see if the tune of these
critters is altered and new set with variations.

" But I was speakin' of the lunch. Sais Pre-
served Fish to me, the other attache — awful name
that, aint it ? The fact is the old Fishes of New
Hampshire were Puritans of the strictest school,
makin' Sunday a day and a half long, by beginnin'
at twelve o'clock on Saturday ; though Preserved
has got bravely over that, he drinks, as he says,
*like a fish,' swears all the newest invented slang
oaths, and plays cards every night, and the devil
all the time. Well, some hundred and fifty years
ago, a baby or spawn Fish like to have died of
the croup or the colic, or some ailment or another,
but got through it, and his mother called him that

\'l\

STEALING A SPEECH.

was so marcifully saved * Presarvcd ;' so there has
been a Presarved Fish in the family ever since.
Well, his father, ' Old Prcsarved,' has great inte-
rest in Varmont, and Maini', ' New Hamp-
shire, where he makes cook) jves with the
barrel-oven top, at his celebrated factory at Maple
' Sugar Grove, m\d sets them up himself, which
fetches him into every man's house. The women
all swear by his stoves (and they are a first chop
article, that's a fact), and in course by him, and
the men ditto their wives. He can influence all
the elections there up and down, and got his son
on the embassy, as one of the paid attaches. If
he would take care of himself that critter would
get on, but he won't, he can't change his natur'.
A herrin' remains a herrin', and a dolphin a dol-
phin, and a skate a skate, and this * odd Fish'
will be the same, till a shark or porpoise sucks
him in, head, gills, and tail.

" * Well,' sais Prcsarved to me, * if your friend
Lord Dunk was here to-day, he wouldn't say
* Uncle Sam ' was cold, I know. See how he
smiles, and smirks, and rubs his hands ; depend
on it he feels good all over. And that reminds
me of your bet ; you don't intend for to go for to
send that feller's cheque for the hundred dollars
back, like a nateral born fool, do you ?' . ,

]i^

STEALING A SPEECH.

" * Sartainly, I do,' sais I. * He was bit, and it
don't convene to the character of our embassy to
do the thing that's mean.'

" ' The character of the embassy be damned,'

I said he. ' I railly thought you knowed too much

I of the world for that. Why you are the only

\ Coaaecticut man I ever met with that even ever

' heard of a conscience, except on a Sunday,'

" * Well, if you stay here much longer,' said I,
'I guess the character of our embassy will be
what you'd wish it. But if you had such a hook
in your gills, Master Fish, you'd be glad enough to
open your mouth, and have it taken out, and then
be thrown back in the water I know.'

" ' Slick,' said he, * if ever you dare to make fun
of my name I'll — '

" ' Take a ^^ass of wine with you, say, that's the
way to finisn the sentence, for I shall only have
two or three days more at the fiudest, and that's
too short to quarrel in.'

" ' Well,' said he, * I believe you are half right.
Scipio, some champain.'

" * But what makes Uncle Sam so good-natured
to-day?' said I. _ ^

" ' Why,' said he, ' some college don called here,
a sort of crack man, a double first, I think they
called him ; and he and Uncle Sam had a discus-

,>-^,

STEALING A SPEECH.

sion about some Greek passage. Since he went
away the old coon has been up to his eyes in
Greek ; and I rather guess, from his manner, that
he has found out that he is right.'

" Sais I, amovin' up to his eend of the table,
*What does your Excellency think of the Latin
of the middle ages ?'

" Sais he, * Sam, don't call me, when we are
located and domestacated together, ' your Excel-
lency ' it's all bunkum, you know.'

" * Well,' sais I, * we arc in a land of titles, Sir,
a place where folks thinks a great deal of 'em ;
and if we don't do it when alone, perhaps we will
be too free and easy in public'

" ' Well,' sais he, ' and it's no use talking.
People do like handles to their names, perhaps
there is some truth in that.'

" * Besides,' sais I, ' we approbate it all over our
great nation. Do you recollect the horseferry
above Katskill on the Hudson?'

** * Perfectly,' said he.

" ' And old Rip Van Hawser the ferryman,
and his two splendid galls Gretchen and Lott-
chen. Oh, my sakes ! weren't they whole teams
of themselves, and a horse to spare ? That wicked
little devil Gretchen was as quick as a foxtrap,
and as strong as a man. If she clinched you, it

STEALING A SPEECH.

warn't easy to break her hold, I tell you. I re-
collect a romp I onct had with her.*

" ' Well never mind that, at present,' sais he,
good-naturedly ; ' but I recollect old Rip Van
Hawser perfectly.'

" * But don't you mind his darters ?' sais I ;
* for it caused more than half the people to cross
the ferry just to git a squint at them beauties.'

" ' We won't mind them just now,' said he ;
' but what of old Rip ?'

" * Well,* sals I, 'just to show you how universal
titles are even in our almighty evcrlastin' country,
and how amazin' fond fellers are of 'em, I'U tell
you what Rip Van Hawser said.

" * The first time I ever crossed over that ferry,'
sais old Rip to me : ' Gineral,' sais he, ' just stand
near your horse, for it's more rougher as com.mon
to-day ; for you see and onderstand and know that
when the wind blows so like the teyvil den it is
rough, and when de wind go down den de wave go
right down too more faster th"\n 't got up. So,
gineral, just stand near him.'

" * I ain't no gineral,' sais I.

" * Well den, colonel,' sais he.

" * I ain't a colonel, nor an officer at all.'

" * Well den judge,' sais he, 'just hold on to de
rein.' . .;

STEALING A SPEECH.

4»

re-

timon
that
it is
ego
So,

; 1^

" * I ain't a judge or a lawyer either,' said I.

" * Well den bishop,' said he.

" * I am no bishop nor minister either.'

" * Oh den, squire.'

" ' Out agin,' I said, laughing, * I am no squire.*

" * Den what de teyvil are you ?' said old Rip,
lookin' up and restin' on his oars.

" ' Nothin',' sais I.

" * Den,' said he, * I charge you notin' for
ferriage. I carry you free gratis, for you are de
fiirt man that has crossed for a week that had no
title.' - .

" * And not a penny would he take, but insisted
upon my goin' into his house. Dear me, I am
amazr^d you don't remember those galls ! There
wasn't too much of the old Dutch build about
them. They were — '

" Here Ambassador put in his oar wuth a quiet
larf ' I didn't say I didn't remember the young
ladies. But what question was that you asked
about the Latin language ?*

" ' Why, your Excellency,' said I, ' what sort of
Latin was that, that was written in the middle ages?'

" ' In general barbarous and poor ; but there
was some good, and that is but little known ;
perhaps Dr. Johnson knew more of their literature
than any man of his day.*

VOL. L •

STEALING A SPEECH.

I\ :

''i 1 1

" ' Then it is no great compliment to say of a
man's Latin, that it is about as good as that of
the monastic Latin of the middle ages ?'

" * Decidedly not,' sais he ; ' quite the other

way. But that reminds me of a curious story.

You know the little square-built nobleman, that

, always sits and looks the peer ? (How singular

it is, Sam, the Whigs are the haughtiest in

i private, and most tyrannical in public life, of any

i folks here?) He goes by the nickname of the

* military critic,' on account of his fiuding fault

with everything the Duke did in Spain, and

always predicting his defeat and ruin. Well,

when the Reform Bill was before Parliament,

everybody made flash speeches, and among the

rest, the 'great military critic' He made a

Latin quotation, of which the reporter could only

catch the sense, as he had never met with the

lines before; so when he came to the newspaper^

office, he told them its purport — that which is

agitated is durable, but that which is unmoved

decays. Well, the editors couldn't recollect it;

they ran over ever so many indexes, time was

pressing, and they had to try their hands at

making that meaning into Latin verse. The

next year the puzzle was found out; the noble

peer was about as much of a scholar as a military

STEALING A SPEECH.

of a
lat of

other
story.
, that
ngular
est in
of any
of the

□: fault

/ii

critic ; he fobbed it from Boswell's ' Life of
Johnson,' who quoted them out of the fulness of
his store of learning. These are the lines/ said
he, and he repeated them so fast they sounded
like one long everlastin' word.

" ' Give them to me in pencil, please, Sir,' said
I, ' for I couldn't repeat them an hour hence.
It aint that Latinos so heavy to carry, but you
have such a slippery hold of it.' "*

Here the President broke in agin with one of
his confounded interruptions. " Slick," sais he,
" it's a pity your father hadn't sent you to College,
as mine did me; you would have been a great
man, if he had, and perhaps filled my shoes."
And he looked good all over, and twisted his
whiskers with his fingers with as much pleasure
as a feller does when he thinks he looks rather

* I have looked out the passage referred to. It occurs
in Boswell's "Life of Johnson" (Vol. III. p. 271, 3rd edition).
It is given as a quotation from Janus Vitalis, and is as
follows :

'* Iramota labwcunt
Et quae perpetuo sunt, agitata manent."

The only difference between the ambassador's copy and
the extract, aj)pears to be an emendation of his own, for he
has written it Labcrscunt.

E 2

\ ^ ^ ^

I-

1'.

\i
I

STEALING A SPEECH.

killin'. Thinks I to myself, a man may be a
president, and no great shakes either, for after
all he is only the lead horse of a team. He has
got the go in him, and that's all; but he can't
hold back, which is a great matter both in
statesmen and horses. For if he slacks up, he
is rid over by those behind him, and gets bis
neck broke — he must go or die. I didn't say
it tho', for it don't do in a general way to blart
out all you think. But I observed, " President,"
sais I, " that's a question I have often thought
of, and on the whole, I think it is more better
as it is. If I had been a scholar, like Ambassador,
1 should have consorted with scholars — for like
loves like in this world — and been above the level.
Bein' under it, as all the masses are, I've mixed
with them, and have a wider rim to iry wheel.
If I don't make so deep a mark on the road, I
move easier, and do less mischief. While others
stick in the mud, I move on. Poor dear old
Minister, Mr. Hopewell, was always at father
to send me to College; but father used to say
tho' ministers knew the way to heaven, it was
the only one they did ; but they knew no more
about the cross-roads of this world than children.
So what does he do but go to Boston, under

STEALING A SPEECH.

pretence of selling a horse, and walk into the
office of old lawyer Leonard Pie. 'Lawyer,' sais
he, * I want your advice.'

" Well, old Pie, who was a pretty crusty fellow,
and a knowin' old coon too, put his big grey eyes
on him, and held out his hand, without speakin'
a word, as much as to say, if you want me to talk,
drop a fee in, if you please. Lawyers aint like
coachmen, they take their tip before they start,
fathers wait till the journey is over. But
father warnt born yesterday, he'd cut his eye-
teeth as well as Pie, so what does he do, but
take hold of it with his own hand. 'It ainte
law, Squire, I want,' said he.

" ' What the plague do you want then ?' said
Pie, tryin' to get his hand back ; but the old
gentleman held on like grim death to a dead
nigger.

" * I want to know,' sais father, * the advantage
of goin' to Cambridge.'

" ' I'll tell you,' sais Pie. ' A college education
shows a man how devilish little other people
knowJ

" ' 'Zactly,' sais father ; ' that's just my opinion ;
thank you. Sir.' And he give his hand such a
squeeze, he forced the ring into the bone of
the other finger, and nearly started the blood

STEALING A SPEECH.

under his nails. It set the old lawyer a jumpin'
and a squeelin', like anything.

" * Confound you,' sais he, * what do you mean
by that ?'

" ' NothinV sais father, * but a mark of my
friendship.' And while lawyer was a-lookin' at
his hand, father made his scrape and walked off.

" ' Found it out,' said the old man, when he
returned.

" ' What, father ?' sais I.

" ' College education,' sais he. * The only good
it is, is to show — how devclish little other folks
know.'

" I believe he was right, President, after all ;
for you see our best scholars' Latin is no better
than the * monastic Latin of the middle ages.' "

" Slick," said the President, " the advice of
a lawyer without a fee, all the world knows, is
no good. If the old man had dropped a dub-
loon in Pie's hand, he would have said : * The
advantage of a college education, is to show you
how much more you know than othc people.' "

" Perhaps so," sais I. " But now you have
been to Cambridge, and I haven't, can you tell
me the Latin or Greek word for india-rubber
shoes ? Why, in course you can't. If you could,
and advertised them that way, who the plague

STEALING A SPEECH.

lumpm

1 mean

of my
kin' at
1 off.
hen he

ly good
r folks

ter all;
better

ice of
)ws, is
dub-
*The
w you

have
u tell
ubber
jould,
lague

would know what you ment? Better as it is,
Sir. It warn't your Greek made you a presi-
dent, or what little Latin I picked up at night-
school, that made me an attache. But I'll
proceed, if you please, with the story. Where
was I ? Oh ! I have it. It was that part where
I said it warnt that Latin was so heavy to carry,
but that you have such a slippery hold of it.

*' ' Now,' sais I, ' your Excellency, that reminds
me of a trick I played a feller onct to Truro, in
Nova Scotia. There was to be a great temperance
meetin' and a lectar, and resolutions moved, and
what not. Well, there was a most consaitcd
goney in the same house with me (tho' that's
nothin' very strange neither, seein' Blue-nose
is naterally a consaited critter), and as he was
to second the first resolution, had spent evenin'
arter evenin' in writin' of his speech, and mornin'
arter mornin' in gettin' it by heart. Well, the
day the great meetin' was to be, off he starts
down to the lower village, with a two-horse
waggon, to bring some of the young ladies to
hear his eloquence. Well, as soon as I seed
him off, I goes to his desk, takes his speech,
locks the door, and walks up and down the room,
a readin' of it over and over, like a school-lesson,
and in about two or three hours had it all by

(,!

ill

STEALING A SPEECH.

heart ; and that, that I couldn't repeat verbatim,
havin' pretty loose tongue of my own, I could
give th: sense and meanin* of. But I had it
in a manner all pretty slick. Then I puts the
speech back in its place, takes a walk out into
the fields, to recite it aloud, where none could
hear, and I succeeded most beautiful. He re-
turned, as I intended he should, before I went
back to the house; and when I went into the
room, he was walkin' up and down, a mutterin'
over his speech; and when he stuck, lookin' at
the writin'.

" ' Hullo,' sais I, * are you back already ?
How's the ladies, and where are they ?'

" * Hush !' said le. * Don't talk to me, that's
a good feller; it pats me out, and then I have
to cypher it over ag^in. The ladies are below.'

" * Well,' sais I, ' i'll go down and see them ;*
and, to make a long story short, the meetin'
was organised, the lecture was read, and the
first resolution was moved. I mind that it
was a very sensible one, and passed unani-
mously. I don't exactly recollect the words, but
its substance was — ' Resolved, Tnat it is the
opinion of this meeting, that those who drink
nothin' but water, will have no liquor to buy.'
I rose to second it ; and there was great cheerin',

STEALING A. SPEECH.

and clappin' of hands, and stampin* of foot ; for
I was considerable* popular among the folks in
them diggins. At last, silence was obtained ;
and I commenced with Horatio Miilgrave's speech,
and dehvcTcd it word for word. Well, it warn't a
bad speech for the time and place. Considerable
flowery — mixed with poetry to please the galls,
and solemncoUy and tearful for the old folk ;
sometimes they cheered, and then they cried.
Arter I had got on a piece, Mulgrave sprang
up, half distracted with rage and surprise ; and
takin' hold of me by the coat, ' Why, confound it,
Slick,' sais he, ' that's my speech. I wrote it
myself.'

" ' Pooh !' sais I, ' don't be foolish.'

" * Well, I never,' said he, 'in all mv bom
davs ! This beats the devil 1 What a Yankee
trick!'

" He said this quite loud. So I stopped short,
and paused, and looked round,

" ' Gentlemen and ladies,' sais I, ' Mr. Mulgrave
sais I am speakin' his mind, and not my own ;
and that it is his oration, and not mine. It's
strange our minds should be so much alike ; for
if it is actilly the case, I must be makin' a very
poor speech, I can tell you. So, with your leave,
I'll sit down.' . —

r I

.ti

<ii

STEALING A SPEECH.

" ' No, no/ sais they ; * go on, go on.*
** Well, I went on, and finished ; and when
I had done, I turned round, and said out loud to
him, * Now, Sir, you say I have spoke your
mind?'

" * So you have,' sais he. * It's a trick — a
cussed Yankee trick !'

" I come pretty near increasin' the size of the
critter's head for that, hut I hit in. Sais I,
' Ladies and Gentlemen, is that fjiir to a stranger
like me, that could positively chaw him up, only
he don't like the taste of the coon ?'
" * No, no,' sais they, ' it aint fair.'
" ' Well,' sais I, ' I'll tell you what is fair,
and that is turn and turn ahout. You say
I spoke your mind. Sir ; now do you speak
mine, when you move the next resolution; and
see if it won't be the best speech you ever made
since you was born.' Creation, how folks larfed !

* Now,' sais I, amovin' off, and settin' down, * take
the floor.*

" Well, he got up, and scratched his head —

* Ladies and Gentlemen,' sais he, ' ahem ! that
speech is my speech ; I made it ; and this is
a trick ;* and down he sot.

" Well, I jumped up, and sais I, ' If his mouth
has been picked of his speech, a thing I never

■'3

STEALING A SPEECH.

heard tell on boforc, it aint been picked of his
tongue, for that's safe and sound ; but I'll move
the resolution for him, so as to keep things
astirrin* ;' and then I give tht^m one of rny
ramblin', funny sort of speeches, with capital stories,
that illustrated everything l)ut the resolution ;
and it was received with immense applause.
Mulgrave was only on a visit to Truro, so
next day he returned to Halifax ; and to this
time, nobodv understands a word about the
story.' "

" Well, I never heard that anecdote before,"
said Uncle Sam, risin'. " Take another glass of
wine. I have hoard of plagiarisms on all sorts
of scales, from purloining a quotation, as the
' great military critic ' did, and borrowing ideas,
down to using printed sermons, as many clergymen
do; but this is the first time 1 ever heard of
' stealing a speech .'' "

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

CHAPTER III.

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL, AND NOTHING IN

PARTICULAR.

" President," sais I, " I am afraid I am takin'
lip too much of yor.r valuable time, and really I
don't want to bore you."

" Bore me ! pray don't say that," said he, " I
like to hear you amazingly; it's better than a
printed book, for I can ask questions as you go
along, and join in the chat with observations of
my own, which can't be done t'other way."

Thinks I to myself, that's just the disagreeable
part of it, for interruptions spile all ; but when a
feller has just given me a snug travellin' job
onasked, and done the handsome thing, it aint
any great return to make arter all, to let him put

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

his oar in sometimes, even if he does catch crabs
now and then, as the sailors say, and half cover
you with spray.

*' Exactly," sais I. " I count it a great profit to
have the benefit of your remarks ; for a man
don't rise to the tip-top of the truck-head of the
mast of the ship of state as you have, President,
without onderstandin' the ropes, that's a fact.
For the statesman's ship is different from the
merchant's ship in this ; you can't jump in at the
cabin-window in one, as you can if you are the
owner's son in the other, but must begin before
the mast in a regular way, for then you know
what every hand's work and duty is, and how to
keep 'em at it."

" There is a great deal of truth in that, Mr.
Slick," said he. " I sarved my time to lam
politics first, to town meetins, which I call the
statesman's nursery, then at corporations and
mass meetins ; arterwards in state legislatures
and conventions, and wound up for the finishin'
touch in Congress, besides larnin' the word of
command in volunteer companies, and sarvin' a
campaign agin the Florida Indgians. Heroes are
at a premium, and sages at a discount with us.
Throwin' others in the shade makes one stand
out the prominent figure himself, us Ai'timus

I II

!!."'

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

Wheclock, the great American painter, used to
say. 1 think you understand that beautiful figure
of speech, Mr. Slick, for if I don't misremember,
you are a dab at pain^in' in iles yourself, aint
you?"

" Rather a daub," sais I, with some pretended
diffidence, for that is a subject I rather pride
myself on.

"You are too modest, Mr. Slick," said he,
quite patronizin' like : " you hide your hght."

Modest, sais I to myself; come that aint
bad. If I aint hanged till that charge is proved,
J guess my neck is safe from a rope, at any rate.
Modest ! Oh, Lord ! and I thought I should
have haw-hawed right out.

" WcU, President," sais I, " I ought to be a
modest man, that's a fact ; for I've had some
highsts in my day, when goin' too confident on
slippery ground, that was enough to shake the
consait out of any man, I can tell you. Oh, what
a rise the great Daniel Webster took out of me
onct. He sold me, that's ^ fact, and almost sent
me down south like a nigger. I felt streaked
enough, you may depend. It is a caution to
sinners, I do assure you, and may be a warnin'
to others."

" Slick," saia President, " Danel was a man

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

he,

)c a

^ome

the

rhat

Isent

iked

Inin'

nan

that could beat us both down in market, so he
could buy us at his own price, and then puff us
off, so that he could sell us at our own valiation,
and make a handsome speckelation of it. And
yet great as he was, somehow or anotlier he never
could mount the box of the state-coach and get
hold of the ribbans, as 1 have : nohow he coidd
fix it;" and he strcightened himself up, while he
swallowed down the juice of that bit of brag.
" But let's hear about Lord Horton and the great
Danel."

" Well," sais I, " I kept my appomtmcnt with
Horton, and as luck would have it, we arrived at
the street-door just at the same time.

" ' Why, Mr. Slick,' sais he, ' wha* a punctual
man you be.'

" ' Punctuality,' sais I, ' my lord, is the soul of
business. There is an old sayin', * Take care of
the pence, and the pounds will take care of them-
selves.' Now take care of the minutes,' sais I,
' and the hours will take care of themselves.
Pounds is made up of pence, and hours of minutes.
Attention to one aims money for me, and the
other saves it. These two rules will make anj
man rich ; and in fact, my lord, they have made
me considerable well to do in this world, as times
go.'

■(<

('I

i.i

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

" English folks, President, aint like ourn, they
rather like to see you hot forget what you be, or
what you have been. Peel used to mind them
now and then in his speeches of the spinnin*-
jenney, and it always took well. I consait myself
it was a little bit of brag, but it answered his pur-
pose any way, and was popular.

" * I am a clockmaker,' sais I, * my lord, and I
ought to know the valey of time. If I hadn't the
right beat myself it would soon be all day with
me. The half hours that's lost a whitlin' a
smokin', and a lollin' about with your chair tilted
back on its hind legs, and your feet over the back
of another, lookin' out of the w'nder at nothin',
and a twirhn' your thumbs while your awaitin'
for breakfast or dinner, or what not, would lam a
man a language, or a trade. But what in natur's
the use of my talkin' this way to you ? You
mind an appointment, because it aint perlite to
keep folks awaitin' ; but what is time to you ?
You was born with a silver spoon in one hand,
and a silver fork in the other, and can jist spend
your time as you like. You must excuse me a
talkin' such nonsense, but ti.'^ fact is, I have
acquired a habit, as 1 travelled thro' Nova Scotia,
of ti-'yin' to preach a little go-ahead into those
everlastin' sleepy Blue-noses, that I forget some-

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

times, and treat other folks, that don't want 'em,
to some of my old saws.*

" * Wise saws call them, Mr. Slick,' said he ; ' I
like to hear them amazin'ly ; I Hke plain, practical
truths, uttered in a plain familiar way ; they
appeal to men's common sense.'

" And he went on and praised my books in a
way that aint no matter ; I kinder felt it was a
little overdone, and for a man of my consait to
think so, is sayin' a good deal. So I won't put it
down, or folks might think I was makin' out my
my own appraisment. ' Well, well,' sais I to
myself, * there's all sorts of ways of soft sawderin',
too, aint there ? He is a politician, and if he don't
know how to lay it on, it's a pity. He intends
his whitewash shall stick, too, for he has mixed a
little refined sugar and glue with it.'

" ' But you are mistaken,' sais he, ' about my
having my time at my command. High stations
have high duties. Much is required of them^ to
whom much is given. Lordly castles are be-
sieged or betrayed, while the wooden latch of
poverty secures the lowly cottage. The sleepless ^
anxious pillow is stuffed with down, while the
straw pallet is blessed ivith sound sleep. My
hours of toil arc more, and my labours harder,

VOL. r. f

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

than those of my hinds. It is the price we pay
for wealth, and the tax levied on rank.' "

" Slick," sais the President, " thems noble sen-
timents ; I approbate and concur them with aU
my heart. Was they all bunkum, or genuine, do
you suppose ?"

" The real genuine article," sais I ; "if they
hadn't a been, I wouldn't a taken the trouble to
listen to him."

" Well," sais he, " they are elevated sentiments
them, but they are just also. I feel myself Provi-
dence has reposed in me a high and responsible
trust, in guidin', governin', advancin', restrainin',
and happy fy in' this great nation."

Pooh ! sais 1 to myself, don't be silly, for he
was agoin' to make me blush for him, and a
blush is a thing that hasn't improved my looks
for vears.

" Yes,'* sais I, " it makes one tremble to think
of it," and I went right on.

" ' Yes,' said Lord Horton, * the public have a
claim upon me for my services.'

" * Well,' sais I, ' I heard you settle one of the
claims on you last night to the House, and I
rather guess,' sais I, ' that somebody that you was
a dressin' of, that shall be nameless, feels like a

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

for he

land a

looks

think

lave a

)f the

^nd I

was

like a

boy that's histcd on another lad's back, and that's
a gittin' the cow-hide hot and heavy. It was a
capital speech that, a real fust chop article.'
Thinks I, you patted me on the back jist now
about my books, and I'll rub you down with the
grain a little about your speech. But he didn't
seem to mind it ; eitber he was used to praise, and
kinder tired of it, or else he knew it was all true
as well as me, or wanted to talk of something not
so parsonal. I saw it was no go, for I can read a
man as plain as a book. Tradin' about as I have
been all my life, has made me study faces, the
eye, the smile, the corner of the mouth, the little
swelling out of the nostril, and the expressions that
pass over the countenance, like lights and shades,
when scatterin' clouds are fly in' over in a bright
sunny sky. It's a fine study, and I must say I
delight in it.

" He merely said, careless like, ' I am glad you
liked it; when I am excited I can speak well
enough, I suppose ; but when not, I can acquit
myself as poorly as anybody.'

*' ' Exactly,' sais I, * that's what the great
Dancl Webster once said to me. Squire, sais
I, once arter he had made one of his almighty
speeches to the Supreme Court to Washington,
Squire, sais I, ' that was splendid ! I felt

F 2

I I

( 1,

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

prouder of New England,' said I, * this blessed
day, than ever I felt afore since I was raised.*

" * Well, I reckon it warn't bad,' said he, * that's
a fact. Truth is, as you arn't a lawyer, I'll tell
you the secret of my success at the bar. I require
a good swinging fee, and won't work without it.
I won't look at a client's face till I see his hand.
"When that affair is settled to my satisfaction, then
I'll hear his story. A good horse that works
hardy requires a large measure of corn. When
I have got my feed, I make myself master of
the subject in all its bearings, pro and con, and
then go at in rale right down airnest. Whatever
is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. But,
Sam, it aint no easy matter arguin' law before
them are old judges. It must be all to the
point, clear, logical, connected, and ably supported
by well-selected cases. You mustn't wander away,
and you mustn't declaim ; if you do, their attention
is off, the public see it, and you are up a tree.
Now that's not the case in Congress ; the less
you speak to the point there, the better, and the
less you are trammelled and hampered in life
arterwards. A few forcible passages throwed in
I for people to get by heart, and admire as scraps
( of eloquence, a strong patriotic flourish now and
then about kecpin' all the nations of the airth in

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

6»

lis blessed
ised.*

he, * that's

er, I'll teU

I require

without it.

his hand.

Dtion, then

kat works

n. When

master of

I coUy and

Whatever

^ell. But,

law before

ill to the

supported

ider away,

attention

ip a tree.

the less

I", and the

3d in life

trowed in

I as scraps

now and

airth in

order, and so on, a flash or two to light up the
dulness, and a peal of thunder to eend with, is all
that's wanted. But extempore preach* ^ is the
easiest kind of all speakin*. Preaclicrp have so
many sermons in their head, upon all sorts of
subjects, that if they lose the thread of their
discourse, they can catch that of another old
sarmon on some other text, tie it on to it,
and go on, and nobody is any the wiser, for
they have it all i Sir own way, and there is
no one to follow ^hei/i and tell them of it, as
in Court and Congress. They have got the
close, us we say in la>v, all to themselves. But,
Sam,* said he, A he looked all round to see
no one heerd him, ' I am agoin' to win that
case.'

" ' How are vou sartified of that ?' sais I, ' seein'
that the judges never said a word.'

" ' Well,' sais he, * come in here to the hotel
and let's liquor, for I am nation dry. I have let
so much steam off, the biler wants replenishin'. '

" Well, arter he had swjiUowed the matter of
a pint of champaine, sais he, * I'll tell you. I
believe,' sais he, ' there is a road to every created
critter, if you could only find it out.'

" ' I am sartin of it,' sais I, ' for I have studied
human natur' all my life.' And I was actilly fool

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

enough to take the load in the conversation myself,
for which he paid me off arterwards rail handsome.
'There is the sugar- plumh,' suis I, 'and whistle
for the child, the feather to tickle the vanity of a
woman, and the soft-sawder hrush for the men,
and arter all they are the vainest of the two.
There is a private spring to everyone's affection ;
if you can find that, and touch it y the door ivill
fly open, tho' it 'n-ns a miser's heart. It requires
great skill, great sleight of hand, and long
experience. Now, one thing I have observed
about soft-suwder for men. Never flatter a man
for what he excels in, for he knows that as well
as you ; but flatter him for something he wishes
to be thought expert in, that he can't do well.'

" ' How very true !' said Lord Horton, a in-
terruptin' of me. ' Old Cupid is more ambitious
to be thought irresistable by women — which he
is not — than a great statesman and diplomatist —
which he certainly is. You have a wonderful
knowledge of human natur, Mr. Slick.'

" ' I couldn't do without it, my Lord. To
handle a ship, you must know all the ropes.'

" WeU, where was I ? Oh ! in the little hack
private room of the great hotel to Washington, a
drinkin' and a talkin' with Danel Webster.
'Now,' sais I, ' Squire Danel, there are two

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

1 myself,
indsome.
I whistle
lity of a
he men,
;he two.
fection ;
loor will

requires
id long
observed
r ;i man
t as well
wishes
k'U.'
a in-

iibitious

hich he
atist —

nderful

Id. To

■

le back
bton, a
lebster.
:e two

kinds of soft- sawder; one is active, and one is
passive.*

" * How ?' sais be.

" 'Why,' sais I, 'here is a ease in pint of the
active. We had to our house a female help; yhe
was an Irish pdl, and ugly enough to frighten
children from crying, and turn the milk of a
whole dairy. Well, she warnt very tidy, and
mother spoke to her several times about it ; but
it did no good, she was as slatternly as ever next
day, and mother was goin' to give her a walkin'
ticket. So, thinks I to myself, I wonder if there
is a created critter so ugly as not to think herself
decent-looking at any rate. Well, sais I, Nora,
I am surprised at you.'

" * What for, your honour, Master Sam ?* said
she.

" * Why,' sais I, ' I am surprised that such a
nice, fresh, healthy, good-lookin' girl as you be,
don't take better care of your appearance.' I
saw her eyes twinkle agin with pli-asure. ' Not,'
sais I, ' that your good looks wants settin' off,
but they ought to have justice done to them. I
hate to see so handsome a gall looking so ontidy '

" ' I own it's wrong,' said she, * and it shan't
happen agin,' and from that day forth, she was
the tidiest and smartest gal we ever had.

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

l.\

ii\

"'That is active soft-sawder, and now what I
call passive soft-sawrjcr is this — deference. For
instance ; if you want to ^ain a man, don't kn(.vv
more than him : it liumiliates a feller to he made
inferior to the one he is a talkin' to. If he want's
advice, that's another thing, give it to him ; but
don't put him right in his stories when lie is
adrift, that's mortifvin' : and don't make anv
display before him at all. Get him to teach you,
for everybody knows something you don't. If he
is a fisherman, sot him a talkin' about ne > and
bait, and salt and (kities, and so on. It' he lives
in the woods, ask him how mapkvsugar is made ;
what is the best season of the year to cut timber,
so as to prcsan^; it ; and if he don't know nothin'
of these; things, then set him to tell huntin' stories
and legends of the woods. You will win that
man's heart ; for instead of opprcssin' him with
your superiority, you have made him feel that
he is able to give a wrinkle to one that he
is willing enough to acknowledge to be his
superior. You will win that man for ever, for
you have given him the upper seat instead of
the second, and made him feel g(K)d all over.

" * Th(! fact is, when I went to travel in Europe
and larnt manners, I found i)olitcness had a great
deal of soft-sawder in it; but among the folks

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

you and I have to deal with, you might tak(? off
your hat afore, and scrape your leg hchind to all
etarnity, before you'd carry your pint. But I am
only stoppin* your story.'

" ' No you don't,' said he ; 'I like to hear you ;
your experience jumps with mine. As a lawyer
and a j)oiitieian, I have had to mix much among
my fellow-men, and in course have studied a good
deal of human natur' too — for lawyers an; like
priests ; people come to them and disburden them-
selves of their troubles, and get consolation, if
they pay well for it ; but tliere is one point in
which they don't treat them like priests ; they
don't confess all their sins ; they suppress them,
and often get themselves and their counsel into a
scrape by it, that s a fact. Now I'll tell you how
I am sure I am ugoin' to gain my cause. But
first help yourself, and ^hen pass tiie wine.*

" Well, first I took one bottle, and turned it up
on eend, and deuce a drop was in it.

" ' Try the other,' sais he.

" And I turned that upside down, and it was
empty too. Our eyes met, and he smiled. Sais
he, ' I was illustratin' your passive soft-sawder ;
I didn't remind you that you was wrong, when
you didn't drink. As you adviscul, I didn't
oppress you with my superiorit" ; but I set you

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

off talking about human natur', of which I guess
T know perhaps as much as you do. I know I
have won you for ever by that dehcate attention.
I think I am sartin of the SHckville vote, for I
gave you the uppermost scat, and took the second
mvself.'

" Well, I couldn't help larfin, I swear. ' Squire
Danel,' sais I, ' I owe you one for tiiat ; I call
that a rail complete rise. I am sold.' "

" A very good story," said Horton. " I like
that, there is so much dry humour in it; it's a
very characteristic story that."

" A feller," sais I, " my Lord, that has wrestled
through life as I have, must naturally have got a
good many falls, and some pretty heavy ones too,
afore he larnt the right grips and the proper
throws, that's a fact.

" ' Well,' says Danel, * ring the bell, please ;
and,' sais he, ' wjiiter, more wine. I'll tell you
how I know I am going to win that cause. I
told you, Sam, there was a road to every man,
if you could only find it. Now, the road to a
judge is the most difficult one on earth to dis-
cover. It aint a road, nor a bridle-way, Tior a
path hardly. It's a trail, and scarcely that. They
are trained to impartiality, to the cold discharge
of duty, and when on the bench, leave their hearts

ji^ .

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

rhey
[arge
iarts

to home, except in a criminal case. They are
all head in Court ; they are intrenched in a sort
of thick jungle, so that it is almost impossible to
get at them. Still, judges are only men, and
there never was but one perfect man in the
world.

" ' Did you mind tiiat little judge that sat there
to-day, lookin' as sour as if he had breakfasted
off crab-apples, sauced with red pepper and
vinegar? Well, he aint a bad lawyer, and he
aint a bad man. But he is a most disagreeable
judge, and a most cantankerous chap altogether.
I have bagged him to-day ; but it was very difficult
play, 1 atjsure vou. You can't soft-sawder a judge,
he is too experienced a man for that, the least
spatter even of it would set him against you ;
and you can't bully him, for he is independent
of you, and if he submitted to such treatment,
he ought to be impeached. Now, old sour crout
has decided two cases on the branch of law that
was under consideration to-day, pretty analegous
to my case, but not exactly. Well, my object
is to get him to view them as governin' mine,
for he is not always quite uniform in his views,
but how to do that without leanin' too strong
on his decisions, was my difficulty. So I took
a case that he had decided on a collateral branch

EVERYTIiING IN GENERAL,

!|'

v^^

of the subject, and that I oxamined, criticised,
and condemnt'd pretty severely. He defended
his ground strongly, at last I gave in ; I only
touched it, for it warn't pertinent to take off
the appearance of throvvin' the lavender to him.
Then I relied on his two other decisions, showed
their ability, soundness, and research oft' to great
advantage, without foli\s knowin' it. The first
slap I gave him sounded so loud, while people
was sayin' I was ruenin' my cause, and had lost
my tact, I was quietly strokin' down the fur on
his buck, and ticklin' i)is funny-rib. Ring the
bell, please. Waiter, the bill.'

" Well, hearin' that, I took out my purse to
pay my half tht; shot.

" * Don't violate your own rule, Slick,' sais he,
' of passive soft-sawder ; when I am wrong don't
set me right, don't oppress me by your (I won't
say superiority), but your equality. Let me be
fool enough to occupy the first seat, and do
you take the second, you will win me for life.'

" ' Squire Danel,' sais I, * I am sold agin ; I
believe in mv soul you would sell the devil.'

" * Well,' sais he, ' I would, if I coukl find a
purchaser, that's a fact ; but I'mi^ thinkin' Na-
poleon and Kossuth wovdd be the only two
bidders. The first, I am afeard, would con-

'Vi

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

fiscate the debt due me, and the other would
pay for it only in speeches, take it out only in
talk. Now, not having bought tlie devil yet, I
won't speeulate on him.'

" Well, the bill came in, and he paid it ; and
when the wait(^r made himself scarce, sais he,

* Mr. Slick, now and then I admit a friend (not
in public life) to a talk, and the interchange of
a glass ; but,' said he, ' soft-sawder here or there,
I never admit him to the privilege of paying halt
the bill.' Just as hv, put his hat on, and was
going out of the door, he turned, and .sais he,

* Is that active or passive soft-sawder, Sam ?'

•' • Neuter,' sais I.

" ' Give me your hand,' sais he. * That's not
bad ; 1 like it, and I like your talk ; but recollect,
there are folks in this country besides yourself
that wern't born yesterday*

" Well, I was alone : I lit a cigar, and threw
myself back in the chair, and put my feet upon
the table, and considered. ' Sam,' sais I, * you
are sold ; and you didn't fetch much either.
You were a fool to go to talk wise afore the
wisest man we have. You are like minister's
rooster : your comb is cut, and your spurs chopped
off. When they grow agin, try to practise with
your equals only. It was a great lesson : it

i/'

EVERYTHING IN HENERAL,

;)

taught me the truth of th? old iiyin' of mother's,
Sam, donH teach your grandmother to clap
ashes.'

" ' Well,' s!iid his Lordship, * that is a curious
story, Mr. Slick, and an instructive one too. The
quiet drollery in American humour delights me
beyond measure.'

" 'There is a part of that lesson, my Lord,'
sais I, * with all due deference, you ought to
learn.' He kind of shook his head, and looked
puzzled what to say. Sp.is I, ' I know wliat you
mean — that it's popularity huntin', and beneath
your station.'

" * Not exactly,' said he, smiling ; hut looking
as if a civil answer was sent for, that wouldn't
come.

" * Well,' sais I, * my Lord, it's a proof of
knowledge and skill. Man is man, and you
must study the critter you have to govern. You
talk to a child like a child, to a boy like a boy,
and to a man like a man. You don't talk to all
men alike : you don't talk to Lord John and your
footman the same, do you ?'

" ' Certainly not,' sais he.

" 'Well, then, you must know the world you
have to (jovcrn, and talk to folks so that they can
onderstand you. The House of Commons aint

'i"> :

.il

AND NCTHTNO IN PARTICULAB.

'ou

)iir

oil

liU)

the people of Engk'nL That was tiie g»an(3
mistake; Peel made: he thought it w-.s^ Mi^
studied it accordingly. What was t' i* covisl*-
qucnce ? In my opinion, he knew muri about
the feelings, temper, tone and trim of tlic? repre-
sentatives, and less of the represented, than any
person in the kingdom. That man did more to
lower the political character of the country than
any statesman since Walpole's time. He was a
great man, I admit ; but unfortunately, a great
man's blimders are like accidents in powder-
magazines — send everything to the devil amost.
There is a sliding scale in mcm's reputations now :
he not only invented it, but iic taught them how
to rcfjulate it accordinfj to the market. But let
byegones be byegones. What can't be cured,
must be endured. To return to where I was,
I say agin, the House of Commons aint the people
of England.'

" * Very true,' said his Lordship

" * Well,' sais I, ' since t\^^ Reform liill, that
House don't do you much credit. You talk to
the educated part of it, tlie agitators there don't
talk to you in reply ; tliey talk to the people
outside, and have a great advanlug'.; over you*
A good Latin quotation will be cheered by Lord

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

r 4'

John M;mri(Ts and Sir Robert Inglis, and even
Lord iohu Russell himself; but Hume talks
about cheap bread, unevarsal suffrage, vote by

ballcit.

no sodsers, no men-o'-vvar, no

coloi

nes,

no taxes, and no v^othin'. Well, while you are
cheered l>y half-a-dozen scholars in the House, he
is cheered by millions outside.'

There is a irreat d(ial of truth in that obser-

K i

ration, Mr. Slick,' said h(

struck

vatwn, Mr. 1:511 ck, sam ne ; it never strucK mc
in that light before — I see it now;' and he rose
and walked up and down the room. ' That
accounts for O'Connell's success.*

" * Exactly,' sais I. ' He didn't ask you for
justice to Ireland, expecting to convince you ; for
he knew he had more than justice to Ireland,
Willie England got no justice there; nor did he
applaud the Irish for yonr admiration, but tlmt
they migiit admire him and themselves. His
speeches were made in the House, but not
addressed to it ; they w ere delivered for the edifica-
tion of his countrymen. Now, though you won't
condescend to what I cull wisdom, but what you
call * popularity huntin' and soft sawder,' there's
your equals in that House that do.'

" ' Who ?' sais he.

" ' Dear me,' sais I, ' my lord, it is two o'clock.

AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR.

rl even
; talks
ote bv
olouies,
^ou an*
use, he

t obser-

uck me

he rose

'- That

you for
ou ; for
Ireland,

(lid he
jui that
His
)ut not

edifica-
)U won't
hat vou

there's

o'clock.

Uncle Sam is a Sa!jm man, where the curfew bell
rings for bed at nine o'clock. I shall be lockcfi
out, I must bid you good night.'

" * Oh !' sais he, ' I am very sorry, pray come
again on Friday evening, if you can ; we have lost
sight of the subject I wanted to consult you about,
and instead of that we have talked of evervthiiij;
in general and nothing in particular. If you can't
come — (' I am afraid it's onpossible,' sais 1, * my
lord') — will you be so good as to let m(^ hear from
you occasionally. There are some transatlantic
subjects I should like amazingly to hear your
opinion upon, write unreservedly, and write as you
talk, your letters shall be stiictlv confidential.'

" ' I shall be very proud of the iionour, my
lord,' said I.

" He seemed absent a moment, and then said,
as if tliinkiig aloud,

" ' 1 vvi^h I had some little keepsake to present
you with, as a token of my regard ; as long as I
have your books 1 have wherewithal to place you
before me as a living animated being, and not an
abstraction.' And then his face lit up as if lie
had found what he wanted, and taking the ring
you see on my left hand otf his little finger, he
pi'jsented it to me in a way somehow that only
those thoroughbn;d lulks know how to do.

vol.. I. G

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL,

" But President," sfiis I, " our time is out too ;
and I must say I am kinder sort of skeennl I have
been talking too much about myself."

" Not a ])it," said he, *' I actilly think you arc
fishin' for ('omj)limonts, you apologise so. No, no,
I am sorry it is so late. He is a fine f«;llo\v that
Horton. But, Sum, they dont onderstand the
j)eople do they ?"

"They don't" sais I, "that's a fact. Do the
people onderstand them ? Not always," sais I.

" 'Zactlv," said h(!, " when vou have born sena-
tors, you must liave born fools sometimes."

" And when you elect," said I, " you sometimes
elect a raven distracted goney of a feller too."

" Next door to it," said President, lailin', " and
if they aint quite fools, they arc entire rogues,
that's a fact ; eh, Slick ! Well, I suppose each
way has its merits, six of one; and half a dozen of
the other.

" But the President," and he adjusted his collar
and cravat, " he ought to be the chosen of the
people ; and Sam (it was the first time he'd called
me that, but I see he was warmin') it's a proud,
a high and a lofty station too, aint it ? To be the
elect of twenty-five millions of free, independent,
and enlightened white citizens, that have three
millions of black niggers to work and swet for

AND NOTHING IN PARllCL'LAR.

'cm, while; they smoke and talk, takes the rag oft'
of European monarclis ; dont it ?"

" Very," sais I, risin' to t;ike U-ave. ** And
President," sais I, for as he seemed detiirmined to
stand in the market, I thought I might just as
well make short meter of it, and sell him at once.
" IVesident," sais I, " I congratulate the nation on
havin' chosen a man whose tirst, last, and sok?
ohject is to sen'e his country, and yourself on the
honour of filling a chair far ahov{« all the thrones,
kingdoms, queendoms, and empires in the un-
cvarsal world." And we shook hands and parted.

G 2

TlIK liLACK HAWK ;

CHAPITER IV.

THE BLACK HAWK ; OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND

AFTER.

The next morning I called on the President,
and received my patent as Commissioner of the
Fisheries on the shores of the British Provinces ;
with instmctions to report on the same, anrl to
afford all such protection to the seamen and vessels
of the United States as occasion might require. I
was also ftirnished with letters mandatory to all
our own officers, anil introductory to the gover-
nors of the several colonies.

Things had taken an onexpected turn with me.
1 didn't look for this appointment, although I
had resolved on the trip, as one of recreation and
pleasure. I had not been well, and consaited I

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

did not f(M'l vorv smart. I pirss I was mnpod,
liviiiir so mucli alone since I rcturiH'd to Slickvillt',
and was more in duinj)s than in danger. So [
thought I'd take a short trip to sea, hnt this
change rendered the toin* no longer oj)tional, and
it heeame necessary to lose no time, so I took a
formal leave of the President, and returned liomc^
to make preparations for the voyage; hut heforo
tinally accepting the office, I eyplained to him T
must take my own time and mi': pleasure with
husiness, for with the exception of i tatistical re-
turns, I was well acquainted with tlic fisheries and
every harhour on the cojjst, and already knew
much that any one else would have to learn
afresh.

He said the (M)mmission was a roving one ; that
I might do as I pleased, and go where and when
I liked, so long as the report was made, and was
full, accurate, and suggestive.

Leaving my property in charge of my hrother-
in-law, I inquired for a trading vessel rather than
a fishing one ; first, hecause I sliould have the;
opportunity of visiting all the outports succes-
ively; and secondly, in order to avoid the nuisance
of having the process of catching, cleanin', curin',
and packin' the fish, continually goin' on on
board. Where the business is conducted by a

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

2.5
2.2

I.I

1^128

|50 "^B

U4 lis _
jM ^ lllll^

- 1^ ilio

1.8

1.25 1.4

1.6

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►

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

^> ^

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

C/j

f/.

THE BLACK HAWK;

mercantile iirm on a large scale, an outward bound
vessel is sometimes loaded with an assorted cargo
of notions, which are exchanged on the coast for
fish, or sold at exorbitant profits to the 'longshore
folks, when she returns with the proceeds of her
own barter and the surplus fish of other vessels
belonging to the same parties that are employed,
or rendezvous at Cape Breton.

Just at that time there was a most beautiful
rakish little clipper of a fore-and-after, fitting out
at the Sound for the mackarel fishery on the coast
of Nova Scotia, the prettiest craft I almost ever
sot eyes on. Having been a packet, she had ex-
cellent accommodation, and was fitted up with two
cabins, one small one for the captain, and another
for the mate and the crew, who were all farmers'
sons, amounting to twelve in number, and messed
together. They sailed on shares, the vessel was
entitled to half; the captain had four, the mate
three, and the second mate two shares, and the
rest was divided equally among the crew. In fact,
every one, according to this arrangement, worked
for himself, and was naturally anxious to make all
he could and to rival his neighbours, so as to see
and show who was the smartest man. It is the
best plan a fishery ever was carried on under.
Human natur was consulted, and gave two prin-

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

ciples for them to work on — self-interest and
ambition. Wages would have ruined all, for the
crew would have put in their time then instead of
their fish, and their desire would have been, like
provincials, to see who could do the least, while
they would have spent half the season in harbours
and not on the coast. But this is neither hen^
nor there.

When I first went on board to examine the
vessel, I was greatly struck with the appearance
of the captin. He was a tall, thin, sallow-
lookin' man, having a very melancholy expres-
sion of countenance. He seemed to avoid con-
versation, or, I should rather say, to take no
interest in it. Although he went through the
details of his duty, like a man who understood
his business, his mind appeared pre-occupied with
other matters.

He was the last person I should have selected as
a companion ; but as I didn't want to go a fishin'
— for it aint nice work for them that don't like
it — and the parfume aint very enticin' to any
but regular old skippers, 1 asked him to give
me a cast coastwise, as far as the GvH of Canso,
where I would go ashore for change of air, and
amuse myself arter" my own fashion.

" Have you had experience, Sir ?" sais he, and

THE BLACK HAWK;

his face lit up with a sickly smile, like the sun
on a tombstone. • ^

" No," sais I, " I never was on board a fishin'
vessel afore."

He eyed me all over attentively for a minute
or two, without sayin' a word, or movin' a muscle.
When he had finished his examination, he turned
up the whites of his eyes, and muttered, "igno-
rant, or impudent, perhaps both."

" I guess you can go," sais he ; " but mind, Sir,
we start to-night." •'

Well, this warnt very encouragin', was it ? I'd
half a mind to give him up, and go to Maine, and
sarch for another vessel, for the pleasure of your
cruise depends entirely on your companions. It
aint like bein' on land, there the world is big
enough for us all, and if you don't like the cut
of a fellow's jib, you can sheer off, and give him
a wide berth; but in a vessel there is only the
cabin and the deck, and the skipper actilly seems
as if he was in both places at once. And what's
wuss, he's master and you aint; he fixes the
hours for meals, the time for lights, chooses his
own subjects for chat, and so on.

You hear a fellow sayin' sometimes — I'm only
a passenger. How little the critter knows of what
he is talking, when he uses that cant phrase.

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

Why, evervthin' is sum-totalized in that word.
Skipper is employed, and you aint. It's his
vocation, and not yourn. It's his cahin, and
no one else's. He is to hum, and you aint.
He don't want you, hut you want him. You
aint in his way, if you don't run like a dog
atween his legs, and throw him down ; but he
is in your way, and so is everybody else.

• He likes salt pork, clear sheer as he calls it,
and smacks his lips over it, and enjoys his soup,
that has fat and grease enough swimmin' on it
to light a wick, if it was stuck in it ; and cracks
hard biscuits atween his teeth, till they go off
like pistols ; makes a long face when he says a
long grace, and swears at the steward in 'the
midst of it ; gets shaved like a poodle-dog,
leaving one part of the hair on, and takin' the
other half o^, lookin' all the time half-tiger, half-
lurcher, and re^arves this fancy job to kill time
of a Sunday. A.rter which he hums a hymn
through his nose, to the tune the " Old Cow
died of," while he straps his razor, pulls a hair
out of his head, and mows it off, to see if the
blade is in trim for next Sabbath. You can't get
fun out of him, for it aint there, for you can't
get blood out of a stump, you know ; but he
has some old sea-saws to poke at you. . ;

t f

THE BLACK HAWK:

If you are squeamish, he oifers you raw fat
bacon, advises you to keep your eyes on the mast-
head, to cure you of dizziness, and so on. If the
wind is fair, and you are in good spirits, and say,
" We're getting on well, captain," he looks thunder
and lightning and says, " If you think so, don't
say so, Broadcloth, it aint lucky." And if it blows
like great guns, and is ahead, and you say, " It's
unfortunate, aint it ?" he turns short round on you
and says, in a riprorious voice, " Do you think I'm
clerk of the weather, Sir? If you do, you are
most particularly, essentially, and confoundedly
mistaken, that's all." If you voted for him,
perhaps you have interest with him; if so, tell
him " The storm staysail is split to ribbons, and
vou'll trouble him for another ;" and then he takes
off his norwester, strikes it agin the binnacle to
knock the rain off, and gig-goggles like a great
big turkey-cock. ?.

If you are writin' in the cabin, he says, " By
your leave," and without your leave, whops down
a great yaller chart on the table, ail over your
papers, unrolls it, and sticks the corners down with
forks, gets out his compasses, and works his
mouth accordin' to its legs. If he stretches out
its prongs, out go the corners of his mouth pro-
portionally ; if he half closes them, he contracts

lw fat
mast-
Ifthe
id say,
lunder
, don't
t blows
" It's
on you
nkl'm
ou are
indedly
r him,
so, tell
IS, and
e takes
acle to
great

5, " By

down

your

n with

s his

es out

pro-

itracts

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

his ugly mug to the same size ; and if he shuts them
up, he pusses up his lips, and closes his clam-shell
too. They have a sympathy, them two, and work
together, and they look alike, too, for one is brown
with tobacco, and the other with rust.

The way he writes up the log then is cautionary.
The cabin aint big enough for the operation, out
go both legs, one to each side of the vessel ;
the right arm is brought up scientific like, in a
semi-circular sweep, and the pen fixed on the
paper solid, like a gate-post ; the face and mouth
is then all drawed over to the left side to be out
of the way, and look knowing, the head throwed a
one side, one eye half closed, and the other wide
open, to get the right angles of the letters, and see
they don't foul their cables, or ran athwart each
other.

if It is the most difficult piece of business a
skipper has to do on board, and he always thinks
when it's done it deserves a glass of rum, and such
rum too — phew ! — you can smell it clear away to
the forecastle amost. Then comes a long-drawn
breath, that has been pent in all the time. This
is going on till the dangerous pen-navigation
was over; and then a pious sort o' look comes
over his face, as much as to say, " Thank fortin*
that job is over for to-day ! It's hard work that."

THE BLACK HAWK ;

So he takes a chair, puts one leg of it on the toe
of his boot, clnps his other foot agin its heel, and
hauls his boot off; and so with the other, and
then turns in and snores like an old buffalo. When
a feller like that banks up, it's generally for all
dav, that's a fact.

Oh yes, there's no fun in sailing with a stupid
skipper like that ; the pair of you look like a sheep
and a pig in a pasture, one is clean, and the
other is dirty ; one eats dainty, and the other
is a coarse feeder, swallows anything ; one
likes dry places, the other enjoys soft mud
and dirty water. They keep out of each other's
way, and never make no acquaintance, and yet
one is a sociable creature, and likes to keep com-
pany with the cow or the horse, or anything
that is decent ; while the other skipper like does
nothin' but feed, sleep and grunt. Man was made
for talk, and can't live alone that way.

Skippers though aint all cast in the same mould,
some of 'em are chock full of information, and
have sailed everywhere a'most, and can spin you a
yarn by the hour ; but this fellow was as dumb as
a clock that's run down, or if wound up has the
main spring broke. However I thought he would
serve my turn as far as Shelburne, w^here I could
make an exchange and shift into some other craft ;

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

or visit the harbours as I used to do in old times in
a waggon instead of a vessel. So I hurried home,
packed up my duds, and got on board.

The more I saw of the skipper the less I liked
him. Whether he was really pious or his nervous
system had been shaken by ranters I could not
tell. Some folks fancy they are ill, and some that
they are religious, and as both put on a colicky
face it aint always easy to say which is which.
It was evident he was a gloomy enthusiast who
would rather die than laugh, and the unfittest
messmate in the world for one who would rather
die than shed tears. There was one comfort
though, we warnt to be together long, and there
were other folks on board besides him. So I made
up my mind to go ahead.

The sea air refreshed me at once, and I fdt
like a now man. The ' Black Hawk,' for that was
the name of the vessel, sailed like a witch. We
overhauled and passed every thng we saw in our
course. She was put on this trade seeing she was
a clipper, to run away from the colony cutters,
which like the provincials themselves havn't much
go ahead in them \ for her owners were in the
habit of looking upon the treaty about the fisheries
with as much respect as an old newspaper. All
the barrels on board intended for fish were filled

.(.

THE BLACK HAWK ;

with notions for trading with the rosidontcrs along
shore, and all the room not oecupied hy salt was
filled with ehurns, buekets, hay-rakes, farming
forks, factory cotton, sailor's clothes, cooking-
stoves, and all sorts of things to sell for cash or
barter for fish. It was a new page in the ])ook of
life for me, and I thought if the captain was
only the right sort of man, I'd have liked it
amazinly.

The first day or two the men were busy stow-
ing away their things, arranging their berths,
watches and duties, and shaking themselves fairly
into their places for a long cruise ; for the vessel
was to be supplied by another at Cansean, into
which she was to discharge her fish, and resume
her old sphere of action, on account of her sailing
qualities. A finer crew I never saw — all steady,
respectable, active, well-conducted, young men ;
and everything promised a fair run, and a quiet, if
not a pleasant trip to Shelburne. But human
natur is human natur, wherever you find it. A
crew is a family, and we all know what that is.
It may be a happy family, and it ought to be,
but it takes a great deal to make it so, and every
one must lend a hand towards it. If there is only
one screw loose, it is all day with it. A cranky
father, a scoldin' mother, a retractory boy, or a

OR, LIFF IN A FORE AND AFTER.

sulky gjill, and it's nothin' but a house of correc-
tion from one blessed New Year's Day to
another.

There is no peace where the wicked be. This
was tbe case on board the ' Black Hawk.' One
of the hands, Enocli Eells, a son of one of the
owners, soon began to give himself airs of supe-
riority ; and by his behaviour, showed plain that
he considered himself rather in the light of an
officer than a sharesmah. He went unwillingly
about his work ; and as there was little to do,
and many to do it, managed to escape almost
altogether. The Captain bore with him several
days, silently, (for he was a man of few words),
apparently in hopes that his shipmates would
soon shame him into better conduct, or force
him to it by resorting to those annoyances they
know so well how to practice, when they have
a mind to. On the fifth day, we were within
three miles of the entrance to Snelburn Harbour ;
and as the wind began to fail, the Captain was
anxious to crowd on more sail ; so he called to
the watch to set the gaf-topsail; and said he,
"Enoch, I guess you may go up and keep it
free."

" I guess I may," said he ; and continued pacing
up and down the deck. >. if : ^ . ,...; .

THE BLACK HAWK ;

■ "Do you hear what I say, Sir?"
' ■ *' Oh, yes, I hear you."

"Then why don't you obey, Sir?"

■ "Because."

*' Because ! what sort of an answer is that,
Sir?"

" It's all the answer you'll get, for want of
a better. I'm not going to do all the work of
the vessel. My father didn't send me here to be
your nigger."

" I'll teach you better than that, young man,"
said the Captain. " While I'm here as skipper,
all my lawful orders shall be obeyed, or I'll punish
the offender, be he who he may. I order you
again to go up aloft."

"Well, I won't; so there now, and do your
prettiest."

' The Captain paused a moment, grew deadly
pale, as if about to faint ; and then it seemed
as if all the blood in his body had rushed
into his face, when he jumped up and down on
the deck, with outstretched arms and clenched
fists, which he shook at the offender, and cried
out,

••Aloft, alott, ^

Go up aloft, ^

You sinner." '■■-^- >«

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

s that,

^'aiit of
ivork of
e to be

r man,"
skipper,
[ punish
lor you

your

deadly
seemed

ushed
jwn on

enched
d cried

The other came aft, and moekin' him, said,

in a drawlin', vvhinin' voice, that was very pro-

vokin',

" I won't, that's flat,
So just take that.

You sinner."

The Captain, whose eyes were flashing tire,

and wlio was actually foamin' at the moutli,

retorted,

*' May I never see bliss,
If I put with this,

You sinner."

It was evident he was so excited as to be
quite deranged.

" Sad business this, Mr. Slick," observed the
mate. Here, Mr. Bent," said he, addressing the
second oflicer, " I can depend upon you ; assist me
to take the captain below, we must place a hand
in charge of him, to see he does no mischief
to himself or anybody else, and then let's go
forward, and see what's to be done."

" Mr. Slick," sais he, as he returned with the
second mate, " this is a bad business. I'm
afeerd our voyage is at an eend. What had I
best do?"

' Go forward," sais I, " and make that villain

VOL. I.

■

THE BLACK HAWK ;

do his duty. If he obeys, the knowledge of it
may cool the captain, and calm him."

He shook his head, incredulously. " Never !"
said he, ** never ! That man is past all human
aid ; he never should have been taken away from
the Asylum. But suppose Eells refuses to obey
me also ?'*

'•Make him."

" How can I make him ?"

" Tie him up, and lick him."

" Why his father owns half the ' Hooker.' "

"Lick him all the harder for that; he ought
to set a better example on board of his father's
vessel."

" Yes, and get myself sued from one court to
another, till I'm ruined. That cat won't jump."

" Send him to Shelbur n jail, for mutiny."

" What ! and be sued for that ?"

"Well, well," sais I, in disgust, "I'm only
a passenger; but I wish I was as I used to be,
able to do what I pleased, w^hether it convened
with other folks' notions of dignity or not. My
position in society won't let me handle him,
though my fingers tingle to be at him ; but I
don't like lettin' myself down arter that fashion,
fightin' with a fellar like that, in another man's
quarrei. It goes agin the grain, I tell you; but

■^gflMJM

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

I of it

ever
human
y from
obey

> »

J ought
father's

ourt to

n only
be,
nvened
My
B him,
but I
ashion,
man's
; but

■\

old times is stronger than new fashions, and
I must say that crittur deserves a tannin' most
richly."

" If you've no objection, Sir, I'll handle him,"
said the second mate.

He was a small-sized, but athletic looking
man; not near so strong apparently as Eells,
but far more active. His complexion was rather
yellow than sallow, in consequence of his recently
having had the fever in Jamaica ; but his eye was
the most remarkable I ever saw.

" Yes," said the mate, " you may whip him as
long as you like, if you aint afeared of bein' sued."

Well, we went over to where our hero was
walking up and down the deck, looking as big
as if he had done something very wonderful.

" EcUs," said the mate, " come like a good
fellow, go up aloft, and do as the capten ordered
you ; obcyin' him might restore him, for he is
beside himself."

" I won't ; so spare yourself further talk."

" Then I order you."

" You order," said he, putting his fist in the
officer's face. " A pretty fellow you, to order your
owner. Now, I order you aft, to go and attend
to your work."

" Friend EeUs," said the second mate, " yom^
- H 2

, ♦

100

THE BLACK HAWK;

father is a most uncommon particular lucky

man

»>

He turned and looked at him hard for a space,
dubersome whether to condescend to answer or
not; but had no more idea what was in store
for him than a child. At last said he, sulkily :
" How so ?"

" Why," sais Bent, " he has got a vessel, the
captain of which is mad, a mate that hasn't the
moral courage of a lamb, and a lazy idle vagabond
of a son, that's a disgrace to his name, place, and
nation. I wish I was first mate here, by the
roarin' Bulls of Bason, I'd make you obey my
orders, I know, or I'd spend every rope's-end
and every hand's-pike in the ship first; and if
that didn't do, I'd string you up to the yard-
arm, or my name aint Jim Bent, you good-for-
nothin', worthless rascal."

" Mr. Bent," said he, " say those words again
if you dare, and I'll whip you within an inch
of your life."

" Oh, yes!" replied the other, "of course you
will, and great credit you'd get by it, a great
big ongainly ugly brute like you, thrashin' a man
of my size, that's taking his first voyage after
the yellow fever. Why, I see you are a coward
too ; but if you be, I beant, so I repeat the words.

■aiMM

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER. 101

that you are a good-for-nothin', worthless rascal,
those were the words, and I'll throw in coward,
to make it weigh heavier. Now, come on, and
lick an invalide man, and then go home and get
a commission in the horse marines."

He appeared to take all this trouble to make
him strike first, so as to keep within the law.
A fight is a fight, Squire, all the world over,
where fightin' is the fashion, and not stabbin'.
It aint very pretty to look at, and it aint very
pretty to describe, and it don't read very pretty.
It's the animal passion of man roused to mad-
ness. There aint much difference to my mind
between a reproarious man, and a reproarious
buU; and neither on 'em create much interest.
I wouldn't describe this bout, only a genuine
Yankee fight is different from other folks's.
Though they throw off their coats, they don't
lay aside their jokes and jeers, but poke hard as
well as hit hard.

While Eells was stripping for the combat. Bent
bammed him, sais he, " I believe I won't take
off my jacket, Enoch, it might save my hide,
for I don't want to have that tanned till I'm
dead."

The men all larfed at that, and it don't take
much to make a crowd laugh ; but what would

102

THE BLACK HAWK;

it have been among Englishmen ? Why it would
have been a serious affair ; and to show their love
of justice, every fellow would have taken a side,
and knocked his neighbour down to see fair play.
But they have got this to lam, " to bung up
a man's eyes aint the way to enlighten him"

While Bent was securing his belt, sais he,
" Enoch, whatever you do spare my face ; you
would ruin me among the ladies, if you hurt
that."

They fairly cheered again at that remark.

" Depend on it," sais one of them, " Bent
knows what he's about. See how cool he is.
He's agoin to quilt that fellow, and make pretty
patchwork of him, see if he aint."

When Bent saw him squarin' off, he put up
his guards awkward like, straight up in front,
" Come on, Jack-the-giant-killer," sais he, " but
spare my dogertype. I beseech you have mercy
on that."

With that Eells rushed forward, and let go
a powerful blow, which the other had just time
to catch and ward off; but as Eells threw his
whole weight to it, he almost went past Bent,
when he tripped his heels as quick as wink,
and down he went amazin' heavy, and nearly
knocked the wind out of him.

I'\

he,

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER. 103

"Well done, Bent," said the men. "Hurrah
for Yellow Jack !"

When he got up he hlowed a little.

" Are you ready," says Bent, "for I scorn to take
an advantage, especially of a coward ; if so be that
you're ready, come on."

Eells fought more cautiously, and exchanged a few
passes with his antagonist, but we soon perceived
he had about as much chance with him as a great
big crow has with a little king-bird. Presently,
Bent gave him a smart short blow right atwixt
his eyes, not enough to knock him down, but to
blind and bewilder him for a minute, and then
when he threw his arms wide, gave him a smart
right and lefter, and had time to lay in a second
round, beginning with the left hand, that did
smashing work. It cut him awfully, while he fell
heavily on his head upon a spar, that caused him
to faint.

" Friends an' countrymen," said Bent to the
crew, "if this man thrashes me to death, as he
threatened, put a seal on my things and send them
home to Cuttyhunk, that's good fellers."

Oh ! how the men laughed at that. One of
them that spoke up before, said, " I'm as glad as
if somebody had given me fifty dollars to see that
bully get his deserts."

104

THE BLACK HAWK ;

V I! I

It seemed as if Bent wanted to tantalize him,
to take a little more out of him. " De little dear
heart," says he, " is mother's own darlin' ittle boy
hurt ? Did that great big giant, Jim Bent, thrash
mudder's on dear little beauty ?" Creation ! how
the men cheered.

Eells sat up and looked round, while the other
crowed like a cock, and pretended to flap his
wings.

" Mate," said Bent, " the owner orders you to
bring him a glass of water ; and he says you may
put a glass of rum in it, and charge it to our

mess.

Eells jumped up short and quick at that; sais
he, " I'll pay you for this, see if I dont."

To coax him on, the other observed, " I shall
go down this time. I'm beat out, I am only a sick
man. Do give me a drink."

While he was speaking, the mutineer rushed on
him unawares, and put in a blow that just grazed
the back of his head. If he hadn't just then half
turned by accident, I do believe it would have
taken his head off; as it was, it kind of whirled
him the other way in front of Eells, whose face
was unguarded, and down he went in an instant.

To make a long story short, every time he
raised up, Bent floored him. At last he gave in,

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

105

our

sais

ace

he
in.

hollered, and was carried forward, and a tarpaulin
thrown over him. The other warnt hurt a hit,
in fact the exercise seemed to do him good ; and
I never saw a man punished with so much plea-
sure in my life. A brave man is sometimes a
desperado. A bully is always a coward.

" Mate," says I, as we returned aft, " how is
the captain ?"

" More composed sir, but still talking in short
rhymes."

" Will he be fit to go the voyage ?"

« No, Sir."

" Then he and Eells must be sent home."

" What the captain ?"

" Yes, to be sure ; what in natur' is the good of
a mad captain ?"

" Well, that's true," said he ; " but would I be
sued?"

" Pooph !" said I, " act and talk like a man."

" But Eells is the owner's son, how can I send --
him ? m be sued to a dead sartainty."

" I'll settle that ; give me pen and ink : — ' We \
the crew of the * Black Hawk,' request that Mr. I p^
Eells be sent home or discharged, as he may choose, J \
for mutinous conduct ; otherwise we refuse to pro- ^
ceed on the voyage.' Call the men aft here."

1*^'

■

106

THE BLACK HAWK J

They all appeared and signed it.

" Now," sais I, " that's settled."

" But won't we all he sued," said he.

" To he sure you will all he sued," said I, " and
pursued to the eends of the airth, hy a constable
with a summons from a magistrate, for one cent
damage and six cents costs. Dream of that con-
stable, his name is Fear, he'll be at your heels till
you die. Do you see them fore and afters under
M'Nutt's Island ?"

" Yes."

" Well, they are Yankee fishermen, some loaded
and some empty, some goin' to Prince Edward's
Island, and some returnin' home. Run alongside
the outer ones, and then I'll arrange for the pas-
sage of these people.'* .

" But how," said he, " shall I make the voyage,
without a captin and one hand less." ^

" A mad captain and a mutinous sailor," said I,
" are only in the way. I'll ship a skipper here, off
the island, for you, who is a first rate pilot, and
I'll hire a hand also. You must be the responsible
captain, he will be the actual one, under the rose.
He is a capital fellow, worth ten of the poor old
rhymer. I only hope he is at home. I tell you
I know every man, woman, and child here." . ^

s ..

■■HiBiiBiaiii

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER. 107

" But suppose any accident happened, Mr.
Slick," said he, " mightn't I be sued, cast in
damages, and ruinated."

" You arc afeard of law ?" sais I, " aint vou ?"

" Well, I be, that's a fact."

"Well, I'll tell you how to escape it."

" Thank you," said he, " I shall be everlastingly
obliged to you. Whai must I do ?"

" Turn pirate."

" And be hanged," sais he, turning as white as
a sheet.

" No," sais I, " no cruiser will ever be sent after
you. Turn pirate on this coast, rob and plunder
all the gulls, dippers, lapwings, and divers nests
on the islands and highlands; shoot the crew
if they bother you, make them walk the plank,
and bag all the eggs, and then sail boldly into
Halifax under a black flag at the top, and bloody
one at the peak, WTar a uniform, and a cocked
hat, buckle on a sword, and call yourself Captain
Kidd. I'm done with you, put me on shore,
or send me on board of one of our vessels, and
fish for yourselves. I wish I had never seen
the * Black Hawk,' the captain, Enoch Eells, or
yourself. You're a disgrace to our great na-
tion." . '

" Oh, Mr. Slick !" said he, " for goodness gra-

108

THE BLACK HAWK;

cious sake don't leave me in a strange port, with
a crazy captain, a mut' ''s sailor — "

" And an everlastin' c^ ;ard of a mate," sais I.
' " Oh ! don't dcsart mo," said he, a-vvringin' of
his hands ; " don't, it's a heavy responsibility, I
aint used to it, and I miglit be — "

"Sued," said I. "That's right, bite in that
word sued. Never dare mention it afore me, or
I'll put you ashore with them other chaps. I'll
stand by you," says I, " for our great country's
sake, if you will do exactly as I tell you. Will
you promise ?"

" Yes," sais he, " I will, and never talk about
being sued. Never," said he.

" Well, then, I'll stand by you ; and if you are
sued, I'll pay all damage."

" Oh ! Mr. Slick," sais he, " you must excuse
me. I am a good seaman, and can obey orders.
I never commanded, but I can do the work of a
mate."

" No, you can't," sais I. " Why didn't you
take a handspike, and knock that mutinous rascal
over?"

" And be — " said he.

" Sued," sais I. " Yes, sued ; and suppose
you had been, wouldn't all the mariners of the
Sound a stood by you, and called you a trump ?

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER.

109

you
iscal

Ipose
the
ip?

I wish to goodness Bent had a licked you, instead
of Enoch. It would have done you jyood — it
will make him desj)crate. Go hom(! and farm ;
and when a hull roars, jump over a fence, and
get citated and sued for trespassin' on your
neighbour's farm. Phew ! I hate a coward."

" I aint a coward ; I'm foolish, that's all —
a little nervous about responsibilities I aint used
to ; but whatever you say, I'll do."

" I'll take you at your word," sais I. " Range
up alongside of that outer craft, and send me
aboard."

Well, I hailed the vessel, and found she was
the ' Bald Eagle,' Captain Love, of Nantucket.
" Captain Love 1" sais I to myself: "just such a
fellow, I suppose, as this mate ; a sort of milksop,
that goes to sea in fine weather ; and when he is
to home, is a sort of amphibious beau at all the
husken, quilten, and thanksgivin' parties. It's
half-past twelve o'clock with our fishermen, when
a skipper's name is Love." Sweet love ! — home,
sweet home ! I consaited I did not feel quite so
well as when I left Slickville.

" Captain on board ?" sais I.

" I guess he is," said one of the hands.

" Then let down the ladder," sais I ; " please."

" Won't a rope do as well ?" sais he. !

1- -1

THE BLACK HAWK;

" It would do on a pinch," sais I : "I do
suppose I could como up hand over hand hy it,
and lick you with the ccnd of it too, if I liked ;
but being a landsman, I don't calculate to climb,
when there are a pair of stairs ; and, to my mind,
it wouldn't lower our great nation, if its citizens
were a little grain more civil. If you don't let it
down, as Colonel Crocket said, * You may go to
the devil, and I'll go to Texas.' "

" Well," sais he, " a pleasant voyage to you.
They tell me it's a fine country that."

" Push off, my men," sais I ; and while they
were backing water, " Give my compliments to
the Captain," I said ; " and tell him, Mr. Slick
called to see him, and pay his respects to him ;
but was drove off with impudence and insult."

Just then, a man rushed down from the quar-
ter-deck, and called out, " What in the world is all
this ? Who did that person say he was ?"
" Mr. Slick," said the spokesman.
" And how dare you, Sir, talk to a gentleman
in that way ? This way, Mr. Slick," for it was
getting dark ; " this way, please. Very glad to
see you. Sir. Down with the ship's ladder there,
and fasten the man-ropes ; and here, one of you
go down the first two steps, and hold the ropes
steady, and back up before him. Welcome, Sir,"

OR, LIFE IN A FORE AND AFTER. 1 I 1

you
■opes

sais he, " on board ih) ' Bald Vy.v^h.' The
Captain is below, and will be deliglited to see
you : I'm his first mate. But you must stay
here to-night, Sir." Then, taking me a little
on one side, he said: *' I presume \ou don't
know our skipper? Excuse me for hinting you
will have to humour him a little at first, for
he is a regular character — rough as a Polar bear ;
but his heart is in the right place. Did you
never hear of ' Old Blowhard ?' "

112

OLD BLOWHARD.

CHAPTER V.

OLD BLOWHARD.

" This way, Mr. Slick, please," said the mate.
" Before we go below, I want to prepare you for
seein' our captain. It is not easy to find his
counterpart. He is singularly eccentric, and stands
out in bold relief from the rest of his race. He
may be said to be sui generis."

" Hullo !" sais I to myself, " where the plague
did you pick up that expression ? It strikes me
his mate is sui generis too."

" The only thing that I know to compare him
to," he continued, " is a large cocoa-nut. First,
he is covered with a rough husk that a hatchet
would hardly cut thro', and then inside of that
is a hard shell, that would require a saw amost

OLD V^LOWilARD.

113

igue
me

him
[irst,
3het
that
Lost

to penetrate, but arter that the core is soft and
sweet, and it's filled with the very milk of human
kindness. You must understand this, and make
allowances for it, or you won't get on well
together at all ; and when you do come to know
him, you will like him. He has been to me
more than a friend. If he had been my own
father, he couldn't have been kinder to me. The
name he goes by among the fishermen, is ' Old
Blowhard ;' he is a stern but just man, and is
the Commodore of the fleet, and apphed to in
all cases of difficulty. Now follow me, but when
you descend half way, remain there till I announce
you, that you may hear his strange way of
talking."

" Captin," said he, as he opened the door of
the little after-cabin, "there is a stranger here
wishes to see you.'*

" What the devil have I got to do with a
stranger?" he replied, in a voice as loud as if
he was speakin' in a gale of wind. " He don't
w^ant to see me at all, and if he has got anythin'
to say, just hear what it is, Matey, and then send
him about his business. No, he don't want me ;
but I'll tell you what the lazy spongin' vagabond
wants, he is fishin' for a supper to eat ; for these
great hungry, gaunt, gander-bellied blue-noses take

VOL. L I

I IT/

114

OT.D BLOWHARD.

as much bait as a shark. Tell the cook to boil
him a five-pound piece of pork and a peck of
potatoes, and then to stand over him with the
rollin'-pin, and make him eat up every mite and
morsel of it clean, for we aint used to other
folks leavin's here. Some fun in that. Matey,
aint there?" And he larfed heartily at his own
joke. " Matey," said he, " I have almost finished
my invention for thi^ patent jigger; start that
critter forrard, and then come and look at it,
Sonney."

The mate then returned to me, and extendin'
to me his hand, with which he gave me a
friendly squeeze, we descended to the door. Cap-
tain Love was sittin' at a table with a lamp before
him, and was wholly absorbed in contemplatin' of
an instrument he was at work at, that resembled
a gass-burner with four long arms, each of which
was covered on the outside with fish-hooks. From
the manner in which he worked it by a cord up
and down, it appeared to be so contrived as to be
let easily into the water, like a single bolt of iron,
so as not to disturb the mackerel, and then by
puUin' the line to stretch out the arms, and in
that manner be drawn up thro' the shoal of
fish. It was this he had just called his " patent
jigger."

.Is.'

OLD BLOWHARD.

115

'i^

■ He was a tall, wiry, sunburnt, weather-beaten
man. His hair was long and straight, and as
black as an Indian's, and fell wildly over his
back and shoulders. In short, he might easily
have been mistaken for a savage. His face
exhibited a singular compound of violent passion
and good-nature. . He was rigged in an old
green pea-jacket, made of a sort of serge, (that
is now so commonly worn as to be almost a
fisherman's uniform), a pair of yellow waterproof
cotton duck-trowsers, surmounted by a pair of
boots, made of leather such as patent^trunks are
composed of, being apparently an inch thick, and
of great weight as well as size. Beside him there
lay on the table an old black, low-crowned, broad-
brimmed, shapeless nor'wester hat. He wore
spectacles, and was examinin' very closely the
mechanism of the extended prongs of the " jigger."
He was mumblin' to himself, a sort of thinkin'
aloud.

" The jints work nicely," said he ; " but I can't
make them catch and hold on to the shoulder.
I can't work that pesky snap."

" I'll shew you how to fix it," sais I.

He turned his head round to where the voice
came from, and looked at me nearly speechless

I 2

116

OLD BLOWHARD.

with surprize and rage ; at least he jumped up,
and almost putting his fist in my face, roared out :

" Who the devil are you ? Where do you
come from ? And what do you want, that you
dare poke your ugly nose in here unasked arter
this fashion?" And before I could answer he
went on : " Why don't you speak, you holler-
cheeked, lanturn-jawed villain ? You have slack
enough to home, I know, for you and your coun-
trymen do nothin' but jaw and smoke all winter.
What do you want ?" said he. " Out with it,
and be quick, or I'll make you mount that ladder
a plaguey sight faster than you come down
it, I know !"

" Well," sais I, " as far as I know, sittin'
is about as cheap as standin' 'specially w^hen
you don't pay for it, so by your leave I'll take a
seat."

"Do you hear that. Matey ?" said he ; " don't
that take the rag off the bush? Haint these
Bluenoses got good broughtens up, eh? Con-
found his impedence !" and he rung the bell.
" Come here, you curly-headed, onsarcumsised
little imp of midnight !" said he, addressin' of a
black boy. " Bring that little piece of rope-yarn
here!"

t^tf-

OLD BLOWHARD.

117

)ed up,
ed out :
do you
hat you
id arter
iwer he
hoUer-
e slack
ir coun-
L winter,
with it,
it ladder
e down

sittin'

w^hen

take a

" don't
t these
Con-
ne hell,
msised
n' of a
pe-yarn

The boy trembled; he saw his master was
furious, and he didn't know whether the storm
was to burst on his head, or mine. He returned
in a minute with one of the most formidable in-
struments of punishment I ever beheld ; and
keeping the table between himself and his master,
pushed it towards him, and disappeared in an
instant. It was made of rope, and had a handle
worked in one eend of it, like the ring of a door-
key. This appeared to be designed for the in-
sertion of the wrist ; below this the rope was
single for about four or five inches, or the depth
of a hand, which had the effect of rendering it
both pliable and manageable, from which pomt it
had another piece woulded on to it.

" Now, Sir," said he " out with it ; what do you
want ?"

" Nothin','' said I, quite cool.

" Oh no, of course not ; you couldn't eat a bit
of supper, could you, if you got it for nothin'?
for you look as lank, holler, and slinkey, as a
salmon, jist from the lakes after spawnin' time, a
goin' to take a cruise in salt water."

" Well," sais I, " since you are so pressin', I
don't care if I do. "

" Will a five pound piece of pork and a peck of

OLD BLOWHARD.

potatoes do you ?" said he, a rubbin' of his hands
as if the idea pleased him.

" No it won't," sais I, " do at all."

" Didn't I tell you so, Matey," said he ; " these
long-legged, long-necked, hungry cranes, along the
coast here are jist like the Indgians, they can take
enough at one meal to last 'em for a week. He
turns up his nose at a piece of pork, and wants to
go the whole hog, hay ? How much will do,"
said he, "just to stay your appetite till next
time ?"

" A biscuit and a glass of water," sais I.

" A biscuit and a glass of water," said he,
lookin' at me with utter amazement ; " how modest
we are, aint we ? Butter wouldn't melt in our
mouth, if we had got any to put there, would it ?
A glass of water ! Oh ! to be sure, you're so cussed
proud, lazy, and poor, you can't buy rum, so you
jine temperance society, make a merit of necessity,
and gulp down the fish spawn, till you have
spoilt the fisheries. Come to lectur' on it, I sup-
pose, and then pass the hat round and take up a
collection. Is there anything else you want ?"

" Yes," said I, " there is ; but I might as well
go to a goat's house to look for wool, as to search
for it here, and that's civil usage." \ - ^

OLD BLOWHARD.

119

; hands

" these
ong the
an take
k. He
/ants to
m do,"
11 next

aid he,
modest
in our
Id it?
cussed
so you
cessity,
have
I sup-
e up a

s well
search

« Oh, that's the ticket, is it?" said he. " You
first of all force yourself into my cabin, won't take
no for an answer, and then complain of oncivility.
Well, mister, if I received you cold, you'll find this
place too hot to hold you long, I know. I'll warm
your jacket for you before I start you out, that's a
fact ;" and seizin' hold of the little bit of rope-
yarn — as he called the punisher — he fitted it on
the wrist of his right hand, and stood up in front
of me, with the look of a tiger. " No more time
for parley now," said he. " Who the devil are
you, and what brought you here ? Out with it,
or out of this like wink."

" I am Sam Slick," sais I.

" Sam Slick ! Sam Slick !" said he, a pro-
nouncin' of the words slowly arter me.
J " Yes," sais I ; "at least, what's left of me."

" Matey, Matey," said he, " only think of this !
How near I was a quiltin' of him too ! Sam
Slick ! Well, who in the world would have
expected to see you a visitin' a mackerel schooner
away down in these regions arter dark this way ?
Well, I am right glad to see you. Give me
your fin, old boy. We got something better
than fish spawn on board here," he said, with
a laugh, between a grunt and a chuckle, that

120

OLD BLOWHARD.

sounded like a gurglin' in the throat. " We
must drink to our better acquaintance ;" and
he produced a bottle of old Jamaiky rum, and
called for tumblers, and some sugar and water.
" You must excuse our plain fare here, Mr.
Shck," said he: "we are a rough people, work
hard, fare coarsely, and sleep soundly. Tell you
what though. Matey, and, by Jove ! I had een
amost forgot all about *em," and he snapped his
fingers in great glee ; " we have got a lot of
special fine eysters on board, raked up only
three days ago on Prince Edward Island flats.
Pass the word for old Satan." When the black
cook, who answered to this agreeable name, made
his appearance at the door, the Captin said,
" Satan, do you see thp,t gentleman?"

"Yes, Massa."

" Well, he is goin' to sup with us this evenin'.
Now, off with you like iled lightnin', and pass
on the eysters as quick as wink, both hot and «
cold." r...

" Yes, Massa," said the black, with a grin (
that showed a row of beautiful white teeth, that
a London dandy or a Cuba shark might envy ; «
and then I heerd him say, in a low voice, " Ky ! •;
what de meanin' ob all dis ? When de sua i

i. .

OLD BLOWHARD.

121

shines so bright, in a gineral way, it's a vvcdder
breader. We is to ab a storm soon, as sure as
de world."

" Come, no grumblin' there," said the Captin.
" Do as I order you, or I'll — "

" I warn't a grumblin', Massa," said he ; "I
despise such oudagious conduct ; I was only sayin'
how lubly de oleriferous smell of dat are rum
was. It's too beautiful to drink ; it ought to be
kept for smellin', dat are a nateral fact."

"There, take a glass, and be off with you,"
said the mate. " Come, bear a hand now."

" Tankee, Massa, Oh, golly ! dat are sublime
bebberidge !" and he retired with affected haste.

" Dear me ! Sam Slick !" said Blowhard , " eh !
well, if that don't beat all! And yet somehow
you hadn't ought to have taken such a rise as
that out of an old man like me ; and it aint safe
either to tantalize and play with an old bear
that hante got his claws cut. I might a
walked into you afore you knowed it ; and if I
had once a begun at you, I shouldn't a heard
a word you said, till I had dressed you off rail
complete. I dare say, you will make a capital
story out of it, about Old Blowhard; but I
think I may say, I'm the best-naturd man in the
world, when I aint ryled ; but when I am put up,

122

OLD BLOWHARD.

I suppose I have temper as well as other folks.
Come, here are the eysters."

Arter a while, Blowhard paused from eatin', and
said he, " Mr. Slick, there is one question I want
to ask you, I always thought, if I should fall in
with you, I would enquire, jist for curiosity.
I have read all your stories ; and where in the
world you picked them all up, I don't know ;
but that one about ' Polly Coffin's sand-hole,'
(bein' an old pilot myself on this everlastin'
American coast), tickled my fancy, till I almost
cryed a larfin. Now, hadn't you old * Uncle Kelly'
in your eye at that time ? Warn't it meant for
him?"

" Well, it was," sais I ; " that's a nateral
fact."

" Didn't I always tell you so. Matey ?" said
he. " I knowed it. Tt stood to reason. Old
Uncle Kelly and Old Blowhard are the only
skippers of our nation that could tell where
they were, arter that fashion, without a gettin'
out of bed, jist lookin' at the lead that way.
It's a great gift. Some men excel in one line,
and some in another. Now, here is Matey —
I don't think he is equal to me as a pilot; he
aint old enough for that. Nothin' but expe-
rience, usin' the lead freely, soundin' a harbour.

OLD BLOWIIARD.

123

when you are kepc in it by a head-wind or a calm,
dottin' down on the map the shoals, and keepin'
thorn well in mind, will make you way wise.
He can't do that like me, and I don't know
as he has a genius that way ; nor is he equal
to me as a fisherman. The fact is, I won't
turn my back on any man — Southerner, Yankee,
or Provincial — from the Cape of Varginy to
Labradore, as a fisherman ; and though I say it
who shouldn't say it, there aint a critter among
them all, (and it is generally allowed on all sides
as a fact), that can catch, clean, split and salt
as many mackerel or cod in a day as I can.
That too is a sort of nateral gift; but it takes
a life amost to ripen it, and bring it to per-
fection. But as a seaman, I'll back Matey agin
any officer in our navy, or any captin of a
marchantman that hists the goose and gridiron
as a flag. It would do you good to see him
handle a vessel in a gale, blowin' half hurricane
half tornado, on a lee-shore."
' " Well, never mind that now," said the mate,
for he appeared uncomfortable at listenin' to the
soft sawder; "it's nothin' but your kindness to
think so — nothin' else."

The captain proceeded :

" Where was you last Sundav ?"

124

OLD BLOWIIAUD.

" A comin' down the Sound," sais I.

" With a clear sky, and a smart southerly
breeze ?"

" Exactly," sais I ; " and it fdl short off the
harbour here."

" Just so, I knowod it ; there aint two gales
ever at the same time so close in opposite di-
rections ; one kinder takes the wind out of the
other's sails. Well, Sunday last we was a comin*
round Scattery Island, east side of Cape Briton,
when we were cotched. Creation, how it blew !
' Capting !* sais Matey, and we shook hands,
' capting,' sais he, ' I'm most afeard we can't come^
it ; one half hour at most, and we shall be aU right,
or in dead man's land ; but there is no time foi
talk now. God bless you ! and I thank you with
all my heart for all your kindness to me.* The
critter was thinkin' of his mother, I suppose,
when he talked that nonsense about kindness. '

" * Now take charge, and station me where you
like.*

" ' No,* sais I, * your voice is clearer than
mine ; your head is cool, and you talk less, so stay
where you be.'

" * I'll con her then,* sais he, * and you must steer.
Another hand now to the helm with the capting.
That's right,* sais he ; * stick her well up ; gain

OLD BLOWIIARD.

125

all you can, and kci^p what you get. That's it.
Will the masts hold f

" ' I guess they will,' sais I.

" ' Then wc must trust to 'em ; if they go wc
go with 'em. Keep her nearer yet. Well done,
old Eagle,' said he ; ' you aint afeard of it, I sec.
She is goin' to do it if she holds togc^ther, capting.
Tight squeeze tho,' there aint an inch to spare ;
aint she a doll ? don't sh(^ behave well ? Nearer
yet or we are gone — steady.'

" Oh ! what a bump she gave ! it jist made all
stagger agin.

" * There goes twenty feet of her false keel,' sais
I, a jumpin' up, and a snappin' of my fingers ;
that's all Scattery wraekers will make out of the
* Bald Eagle' this trip, and they want that to keep
them warm next winter. We have cleared the
outer ledge ; wc are all safe now ; another hand to
the wheel here in my place. And, Matey,' sais
I, * let's shorten sail — alter our course — and get
under the lee on the other side.*

'* It was an awful storm that, I tell you ; and
it would have been a cryin' sin to lose such a sea-
man as that in a common fore and after. No,
this is our last trip — the South Sea for me — the
mackerel is only fit for boys to catch — the whale
is the sport for a man, aint it, Matey ? I am

■' ' if

126

OLD BLOWHARD.

goin' to buy a whaler when I return home; he
shall be my capting, and command the ship. I'll
take charge of the boats, and the harpoon will
suit me better than a patent jigger.

" Yes," said he, " all the damage we suifered
was the loss of about twenty feet of false keel.

ft'

We ought to be thankful to Providence for that
marciful escape, and I hope we are. And so
ought you to be also, Mr. Slick, for you come
plaguey near having yourn stripped off too just
now, I tell you. But stay on board to-night.
Satan, make a bed up for Mr. Slick."

" There's just one plate more, Massa Sam,'*
said Satan, whose countenance suddenly lit up on
hearing my name. " Do try and eat ; I is sure
YOU isn't vveli, Massa Sam."

" Massa Sam !" said the captain in a voice that
might be heard on the island, " who the devil do
you call Massa Sam ? Matey, that is your fault ;
it don't do to talk too free niggers ; it makes them
sarcy. Clear away these things, and clap a
stopper on your tongue."

"Yes, Massa," said the negro, who edged
round, and got the table between himself and his
master, and then muttered : " 1 taught dere would
be a storm soon ; I said intestinally to myself, dis
was a wedder breeder." Thinkin' himself safe, he

OLD BLOWHARD.

127

ome; he

■

lip. I'll

)oon will

suffered

dse keel.

for that

And so

ou come

-'.^9B

too just

to-night.

a Sam,"

lit up on
'. is sure

^■■l^^M

oice that

'";^^^B

ievil do

r fault ;

es them

clap a

edged

and his

■■;j,.

3 would

elf, dis

safe, he

, ?■*

said again : " Massa Sam, how did you leave Miss
Sally ? Many a time dis here nigga hab earned
her to school in his arms when she was a little
pickaninie. Oh ! she was de most lubly little
lady dat the sun eber behold, often as he had
travelled round de circumference ob de world."

" Why who the plague are you ?" sais I,
" Satan, Satan ? I never heard that name afore.
Who are you ?"

" Juno's son, Sir ! You mind, massa, she
was alwax's fond of fine names, and called me
Oi/yander."

" Why, Oleander," says I, " my boy, is that
you?" and I held out my hand to him, and
shook it heartily. I heard Old Blowhard inwardly
groan at this violation of all decency ; but he
said nothin' till the man withdrew.

" Mr. Slick," sais he, " I am astonished at
you shakin' hands with that critter, that is as
black as the devil's hind foot. If he was a slave
you might make free with him, but you can't
with these northern free niggers ; it turns their
head, and makes them as forred and as sarcy as
old Scratch himself They are an idle, lazy,
good-for-nothin' race, and I wish in my soul
they were all shipped off out of the country to
England, to ladies of quality and high degree

I I

128

OLD BLOWHARD.

there, that make such an everlastin touss about
them, that they might see and know the critters
they talk such nonsense about. The devil was
painted black long before the slave trade was
ever thought of. All the abolition women in
New, and all the sympathisin' ladies in Old
England put together, can't make an Ethiopean
change his skin. A nigger is — a nigger, that's
a fact."

" Capting," sais I, " rank folly is a weed that
is often found in the tall rank grass of fashion ;
but it's too late to-night to talk about emanci-
pation, slavery, and all that. It would take a
smart man to go over that ground from daylight
to dark, 1 know."

" And now, Mr. Slick," said he, " you must
excuse me ; I'm agoin' to turn-in. Here are
p'pes and cigars, and old Jamaiky, and if you
like to sit up, there is a lad (pointing to the
mate) that will just suit. You have seen a
great deal, and he has read a great deal, and
you are jist the boys to hitch your bosses together,
I know. Here is to your good health, Mr. Slick,
and our better acquaintance," said he, as he re-
plenished and emptied the glass ; " and now amuse
yourselves. Good night." \

THE WIDOW S SON.

129

CHAPTER VI.

THE WIDOWS SON.

As soon as the Capting went into his little
state-room, the mate and I lighted our cigars,
drew up together near the tahle, so as not to
disturb him, and then had a regular dish of chat
to disgest the eysters.

" I owe everything, Mr. Slick," said he, " to
Blowhard. If it hadn't been for him, I don't
know what on earth would have become of my
poor mother, and her little helpless family."

" Well," sais I, " friend, you have the advan-
tage of me."

" How so ?" said he.

" Why," sais I, " you have got my name, and
you know who I be, now I have been waitin' to

VOL. I. K

I i

130

THE WIDOW S SON.

hear yourn drop from the Capting, so as to pick it
up, and get on without asking questions, for I
don't like them when they can be avoided ; pray
what might it be ?"

" Timothy Cutler," said he. " Our folks was
originally Puritans of the old school. Well, I dare
say you have heard of Timothy Cutler, President
of Yale CoHege ?"

" The man they turned out," sais I, " because
he became an Episcopalian ?"

" The same," said he. " Well, he was my
great grandfather. Arter he quit the college, he
sarved an English Church society as a missionary,
and so did his son after him, till the close of the
revolution ; and my lather was a church clergy-
man, too, to a place called Barnstable. There has
always been a Timothy Cutler in the family.
Well, father was a zealous, pious man, and mother
was an excellent manager; and although they
were poor — for his flock was small, most o' the
inhabitants being congregation alists there — still
they made out to make two ends meet, and to
keep us all decent and tidy. Still if required all
possible economy to do it. Father took great
pains with me, every leisure hour he had, for he
couldn't afford to send us to school, and was pre-
paring me for college ; and, for a boy of fourteen,

THE widow's son.

131

pick it
, for I
I; pray

^ks was
, I dare
resident

because

vas my
iege, he
sionarv,

) of the

■ ?&

[s pre-
irteen,

I was perhaps as good a scholar as there was in
Connecticut. It was arranged, I was to open a
school next year, under his care and sanction, to
aim money for the college course. Poor, dear
mother had it all planned out ; she had a beautiful
vision of her own in her mind, and believed in it
as strong as her Bible. I was to go thro' Cam-
bridge with honours, become a groat lawyer, go to
Congress, be Secretary of State, and end by being
elected President of the nation ; that was a fixed
fact with her.

" Women, Mr. Slick, especially all those whose
mothers live to see them thro' their childhood, are
religiously inclined. They have great faith, as
they ought to have, in the goodness and bounty
of God, and, not knowing much of life, have per-
haps more reliance than is just altogether safe
on the world, and what it is able or willing to do
for them. But this entire hopefulness, however,
this strong conviction that all will be right in the
end, this disposition to look on the sunny side of
life, supports them in all their trials, carries them
thro' all their troubles, and imparts strength equal
to the weight of the burden. If it wasn't for this,
many would faint in the struggle, and, way-worn
and weary, sink under the despondin' influence of
the sad heart-rending realities of life. It was this

K 2

'1 ''

I ' !

I \

ili
U

1 1 ■

)

132

THE WIDOW S SON.

made mother happy in her poverty, and cheerful
in her labours and privations. But man proposes,
and God disposes."

" Hullo !" sais I to myself, as I squared round
to take a better look at him, " here's another
instance of what I have often obsarved in life,
there are stranger things in reality than can
be found in romances. Who on airth would
have expected to have seen a man like this, a
mate of a fore and aft mackerel hooker, and a
companion of Old Blowhard. He was about
two or three and twenty, and one of the hand-
somest young men I ever saw, modest, but
resolute-looking, strong, active, well-built, and
what might be called the model of a young
seaman."

" My father," he continued, " caught a violent
cold, inflammation set in, and he died suddenly.
What an awful dispensation of Providence was
this ! But in giving you my name. Sir, I have no
right to inflict my history on you. Excuse me,
Mr. Slick, but these feelins have been pent up so
long, that they found vent in your presence,
unawares to myself"

" By no means, Mr. Cutler," sais I, " go on, it
interests me greatly. You have no thin' to tell
me you need be ashamed of, 1 know."

THE WIDOW S SON.

133

on, it
b tell

" I trust not," ho said ; " but my object was
rather to talk of Captain Love than myself, and
to shew you how we first became acquainted, and
what he has done for me. Wo were paupers,
literally paupers. The house we lived in belonged
to the congregation. Our furniture was of the
simplest and plainest kind. A small library, two
cows, a few sheep, and a pig or two, constituted
all our worldly effects. My poor mother had not
only lost her husbond and friend, protector and
supporter, but all her bright visions of promotion
and prosperity vanished into thin air. I pass
over the scene of distress, desolation, and sorrow,
in that house. I can't think of it even now
without a shudder. My mother's grief was so
great, I thought she would have speedily followed
her husband. The neighbours were all very kind.
One day the old churchwarden, who had always
been attached to my father, dropt in and tried to
console her ; but the more he said, the faster her
tears flowed.

" At last he remarked : ' Madam, do you recollect
the words of our late dear pastor? ^ He who
taketh away a parent, is able and willing to send
friends.' Now I have wrote to an old acquaint-
ance of mine, Captain Love, who sails in two

134

THE WIDOW S SON.

or three days, and he will take Timothy to sea
with him/

" 'As what ?' said mother, lifting up her head
and wiping her eyes. ' As what ? To bring him
up as what f

" ' As kind as if he was a child of his own.'

" * Do you mean as a 'prentice boy ?'

" ' No, Marm ; if the boy, after a trip or two,
don't like it, he will return.'

" ' And where is the vessel goin' ?'

" ' To the mackerel fishery,* said he.

" Oh ! what an expression came over her face
of unutterable anguish. ' What ! to catch and salt
fish ? Has it come to this ? Oh, my son ! my
son ! it must not be !'

" * But it must be,' said he kindly, but firmly.
* He must do his duty in that line of life, in
which it shall please Providence to place him.'

" ' A cabin-boy on board a mackerel-schooner,*
and she covered her face, and sobbed aloud.

" ' Tim,' said he addressing me, * you must be
ready to start in the morning, so get your things
packed up ready, and I will drive you to the Cape
myself in my gig. You are to go on shares,
and your share will support the family at home
a'most, if they use their old economy.* '

THE WIDOW S SON.

J 35

" The necessary exertion to equip me, amid tears,
lamentations, and apprehensions of sea and ship-
wreck, did her good. I pass over the parting
scene. The old warden drove me to the Cape,
and put up his horse at an inn ; and then, taking
me with him to the wharf, pointed out to me
the vessel, and showed me the person I was to
address as captain, and then said he had some
business to attend to. So taking my bundle in
my hand, and getting out the letter of intro-
duction he had furnished me with, I proceeded
on board, and went to the afterpart of the deck,
where the skipper was. He was raving like a
madman, something had gone wrong on board,
and he was stamping with rage, and swearing
awfully. I think I may safely say, that was
almost the first, last, and only time in my life
I was terrified. I trembled all over. Nursed,
trained, and educated in a clergyman's house,
where passion was never seen, nor oath heard,
you may well imagine my horror. Presently his
eye caught me, and he gave me the same salu-
tation nearly he did you.

" ' Hullo ! where the devil did you come from,
little Broadcloth ? and what do you want here ?'

" * Look at this,' said I, ' please,' handing him
the note.

136

THE widow's son.

" ' What, another bill ! I thought they were
all in and paid. This is from that old cantin'
scoundrel, " Praisc-the-Lord," the cheatin', svvind-
lin' old rascal. He'll never give over his tricks,
till I use up his yard-stick over him. Oh !'
said he, ' so you are young Cutler, are you ?'
and all his manner and tone of voice became
altered in a minute. *A very nice smart little
boy; and Old Hundredth, as I call the worthy
warden, tells me you are a very good boy, and
that's better, for pretty is as pretty does. Is
that all your traps that you have in that
bundle ?'

*' ' They aint traps, Sir,' said I, ' they are
clothes. The mink-traps and otter-traps, I left
at home, with brother Jim.'

*' Well, he fairly roared out at that ; he put his
hands on his sides, and laughed again and
again. It made me colour up all over, for I
didn't know what I had said out of the
way.

* Well,' said he, a patting me on the shoulder
kindly, " we calls clothes and other fixins ' traps '
here, and sometimes ' duds,' for shortness. I
don't know,' said he, half to himself, ' whether
it aint better jist so. Cuteness comes fast
enough, and when cuteness comes, then comes

THE WIDOW S SON.

137

cunninc:, find cunning brings deceit, and that
leads to suspicion and selfishness, and hardens
the heart, and when the heart is hardened, we are
only fit to be cut up for bait. Mink and otter's
traps. Well that's good. Now son Timothy,*
said he, * come below, and I'll show you the old
bear's den, and then the young cub's den.'

" ' I should like to see a bear,' said I, * for I
never saw one in my life ; father used to say there
hadn't been one near Barnstabk;, within the me-
mory of man. Are they very savage ?'

" * The old one is,' he replied, laughing * as
savage as the devil ; he is growlin' and snarlin',
and shewin' his teeth all the time ; the vouno: one's
claws haint growed yet. This way, my lad, fol-
low me,' and he led me down to this very cabin.

* Here's where we grub,' said he.

" ' Grub what, Sir ?' said I, a-lookin' round
puzzled, for I saw no weeds and no tools.

" * Hard biscuit, hard junk, and hard salt-pork,
that's grub, my boy ; and the great secret of life is
to learn to earn one's grub. Now here is where
the old bear sleeps,' ojiening the door of that
little state-room, ' and that's me ; and there's
where the young cub sleeps,' pointing to another,

* and that's you. Now go in there and stow away
your traps, while I give some orders on business.'

138

THE WIDOWS SON.

i
1

r '

'41.

" He then rai)g the hell, and * Old Satiin,' as he
called him, came.

" ' Come here,' said ho, trying to moderate his
voice, hut only making it more clear, and more
audible, so that I could not help hearing what he
had to say. * Did you sec that boy ?' said he.
* Well, do you understand that's my son ? ThcTc's
no occasion to tell him or any one else that. He
is under your charge ; look after him, and see he
don't get into scrapes, and that no one imposes on
him. If anything goes wrong, report it to me.
Send the mate. Mr. Pike, when shall we be ready
for sea ?'

" * First wind. Sir, after twelve to-morrow.*

" ' That's right, carry on with all your force, for
we are agoing to have a fine nin of it, by all ap-
pearance.'

" * I rather guess so, too,* said he.

After a little while he called me, 'Timothy,'
said he, * come here.*

" * Yes, Sir.*

" * Get your hat and go ashore with me to ' Old
Praise-the-Lord.*

" He set my teeth a-jar by that expression ; it was
irreverent. I had never heard such language, and
such is the advantage and force of early training,
that to this day, those expressions, though my ear

THE WIDOWS SON.

139

is hardened, and my ddicacy blunted inueli, arc,
thank (jod, still offensive to me. He took me to
a shop tilled with tish, cheese, honey, candles,
soap, tobacco, slop-cloathinp:, liquors of all kinds,
and every thing that is requisite to fit out sailors
or vessels It smelt very offensively, and looked
dirty ; the air was so foul that it was manifest all
the ventilation the apartment had ever received was
by the door, when open.

" As we entered, a small, thin man emerged from
behind enormous coils of tarred rope, piled one on
top of the other. It was Elder Jedediah Tigg. He
was dressed in a rusty suit of black, and wore a
dirty white neckcloth tied behind, while his oily
hair was brushed down straight on his head and
neck ; he had a very sly, but prim, sanctimonious
appearance.

" * Well, brother Jed,' said the skipper, * how
are you and hou's times with you ?'

" ' Not well, not well, capting, I am troubled
with the rheumatis dreadful lately, and the times
is poor, very poor — praise the Lord.'

" * Well, you have reason to praise him, you old,
yaller sadducee,' said he, * for when grasshoppers
are so plenty as to make the pastures poor^ gob-
blers grow fat. Hard times is what you thrive in ;
when the ponds dry up^ the pokes get the polly-

140

THE WIDOW S SON.

'■)

wogs\ Here, fit cut this boy with a complete suit of
oiled cotton waterproof, a pair of thick boots, and
a nor'-wester, besides these, he'll want a pea-jacket,
four flannel shirts, and four check ones. Put these
into a small sea-chest, and stow away in it, a
mate's blank-book, a slate, and some paper and
quills. Send it riboard to-night by six o'clock.'

" ' Who is a-goin' to pay for 'em ?'

*' * I am,' said the captain.

" * Praise tl^e Lord,' said Jededia.

" ' Don't fcvrge ahead that way, old boy, or you
may get aground afore you know where you be.
I'll advance the money for his mother, and she is
as poor as a hen partridge that's a hatchin' eggs.'

" ' Praise the Lord,' said Jedediah.

" ' Now let me see the bill is all done at lowest
possible cash price, or I'll keep tl.:, goods and let
you fish for the pay.'

" ' I'll put them below first cost,' said he, ' I'll
lose by them all I can afford. Praise the Lord.'

"'What an everlasting lie,' said the skipper,
' what a hypocrite you be, Jed,' returning to the
counter, * if ever you rare to talk to me that way
agin, I'll flay yon alive. I shouldn't mind your
ripping out an oath or two now and then, for
thunder will burst, and it clears the air — tho'
swearin' is as well let alone, when you can help it

THE WIDOW S SON.

141

suit of

— ^but cantin', whynin', textin', and psalmin' when
a man means trickery — uh, it's the devil !'

" I didn't sleep much that night ; I was home-
sick and heart-sick. Two things troubled me
greatly, upon which I wanted explanation. The
first was, he claimed to be my father. Why was
the secret kept from me ? Secondly, he bought
all this outfit at my mother's expense, and spoke
very disrespectfully of her, sayin' she was as poor
as an old hen partridge. What mystery is this ?
I resolved when I saw the warden to open my
heart to him. So as soon as I got up I asked leave
to go and see him.

" ' Yes,' said he, ' go and welcome, but be back
by ten o'clock, for we shall sail at one, and you
must learn how a vessel is got under way. Have
you any money in your pocket?'

" ' No, Sir.'

" ' Do you want any ?'

" ' No, S'r ; I never had any, and have no use
for it.'

" ' That's right, be prudent, and never be under
an obligation to anybody; and above all things,
always speak the truth, your word must be your
bond through life. Well,' sais he, 'we always
advance to the hands for outfit, if they want it.
Here are t vo dollars, on account of yoiu* share of

jjaw ' " '''-^

142

THE WIDOW S SON.

f ;

the airnings, and if you don't want nothin*, buy
some little things that your mother likes, and
let Old Hundredth take them to her. Always
remember her after her every cruise ; you must
support that family at present. Now, make
tracks.'

"Well, his words sunk deep into my heart,
especially what he said about truth. * Then this
man is my father,' said I ; and I went sorrowing
on my way.

" The warden was alone at breakfast when I en-
tered.

" ' Mr. Chase,' said I, ' who is Captain Love, is
he any relation of mine ?'

" ' Not that I know,' said he, ' I never heard of
it. But why do you ask ?'

" Well, I. repeated to him all the conversation I
had heard between him and the cook, and told
him how distressed I was at it.

" ' Oh,' said he, * that was an expression of
kindness, that's all; you know it is figurative
language. '

"I then told him the story of tlie outfit, and the
way he spoke of my mother.

" ' He has no discretion in his talk sometimes,'
said the warden, ' but he was joking only. Figg
understood that, it's a present to you, only he

THE WIDOW S SON.

143

didn't want to be bothered with thanks. Behave
well, Timothy. That man is able and willing to
serve you, he has taken a fancy to you. I think
your father rendered him, many years ago, an
important service, without inconveniencing himself.
He referred to somethin' of the kind in his letter
to me, when I applied to him to take you, but 1
don't know what it was.'

" ' Well, here's the two dollars, Sir,' said I,
'will you give them to my mother, with my
love ?'

*' ' No,' said he, ' anybody can send money ; but
you must not only do that, but take trouble be-
side, it's very grateful, such httle attentions. Buy
something for her — tea, joffee, and sugar, how
would that do ?'

" ' There aint a spoonful in the house.'

" * 'i'hen wc'U get them ; give me the money, and
I'll go to an old parishioner of your father's that
will be glad to mak(; the two dollars uo four dollars
work. Now good-bye, my boy, take care of your
conduct, and depend upon it Providence will take
of you.'

" The second day after we sailed. As we sat to
dinner, * Tim,' sais he, ' do you know what a
log is, and how many kinds there be.'

14^

THE WIDOW S SON.

" ' Two, Sir,* sais I ; * there's the back log and
the back stick.'

" ' Creation !' said he, ' I wonder if ever I* was
so soft as that, I don't believe it as far as I can
remember ; sartainly not since I was knee high, at
any rate. A log is a ship's journal, my son, the
mate keeps it, and you must copy it, 'lere is a
book in your chest for the purpose, it will show
you that part of his duty. Now, do you know
what throwing a log is ?'

" I suppose it means when you have no further
use of it, throwing it overboard.

" ' Well, you were not so far out that time. It
is a small piece of wood*" attached to a line,
which is thrown overboard, when the vessel is
going, and this line has knots, each of which
denotes a mile, and that is throwin' the log, and
settin' down these distances is called kcepin' the
log. Now,' sais he, ' make yourself master of
the names of the ropes, and spars, and riggin'
and all sea tarms ; but never ask a man that's
busy, and never talk to the man at the helm.'

" I mention these Httle things, not that there
is any intrinsic interest in them, but to show you

* First called a log in Ireland.

THE WIDOW S SON.

145

how minute his kindness has been. We were
five weeks gone. On my return, he sent me
to see my mother, and sent her a cheque for
fifty dollars, for what he called my share.

" * Fetch your books when you come back,' sais
he, * with you, all kinds, Latin and Greek that you
did larn, and travels and voyages that you hante
larned, and improve your mind. You can't learn
too much, if you don't larn tricks.'

" In this way I have gone on ever since, always
receiving far more than my share for my services ;
^nd now I am to be advanced to the command
of a whaler. I have neglected no opportunity,
according to his advice, of acquiring information,
and continuing my study of languages. I put
James thro' Cambridge, and he has removed to
Boston, where he is just about commencing law.
Mother has had her schemes of ambition all
revived in him. He took a degree with honours ;
he promises to make a figure at the bar ; and
she thinks those other prizes in the lottery of life
— a seat in Congress, a secretaryship, and the
presidential chair, are held in store yet by Provi-
dence for the — Widow's Son."

VOL. I.

(i'

146

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

J I 1-

CHAPTER VII.

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

The next mo^-nin', just at the early dawn of
day, I heard the Capting jump out of bed, and as
I don't like to be caught nappin/ I outs too, puts
my clothes on as quick as wink, and gets into the
cabin before he and the mate made their appear-
ance. I sat down to the table, took up his
"patent jigger," to see if I could contrive the
" snaps " for it ; and was a-workin' it upwards and
downwards to see what it wanted, when he
came in.

" What, up already?" said the Captain. " Well,
you are a rael New Englander, for ' Yankees and
weasels aint often caught nappin.' "

"'It's the early bird that gets the ivorrriy
Capting," sais I.

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

147

" Exactly," sais he, " and so it is with the
macarel catch too ; it's first come first served in
the fisheries. But, Matey, let's go on deck and
see what chance there is of a wind."

" It's a dead calm," said he, when he returned,
** and there will he no breeze until twelve o'clock ;
and then, if it does come, it will be, as fair as it
can blow, east south-east half-east ; it's like the
crew, late a gettin' up to-day ; but it will be along
here by me bye."

" Capting," sais I, " I have got it. You know
I am a clockmaker, and know a little about
machinery ?"

" What the plague don't you know something
about, Mr. Slick ?" said he.

"Well," sais I, "I don't know much about
anything, that's a fact, for I'm a sort of Jack of
all trades, and master of none ; but I have some
wrinkles on my horn for all that, for I warn't
born vesterdav."

" I guess not," said he, " nor the first flood tide
before that neither."

"Looke here, Capting," sais I, and I pulled the
cord and drew up the arms of the jigger ; " now,"
sais I, " put a spring on the shank, on the
back of the centre bar, exactly like the springs
of an umbrella, with the same sort of groove for

- L 2

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it \

I ;

-y

148

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

it to play in, as the handle of that has, and the
jigger is complete."

" I see it," sais he, jumpin' up and snappin'
his fingers. " I see it, it's complete ; it's rael jam
up that. That's a great invention, Mr. Slick, is
that jigger, that and my bait-cutter, and the dodge
I discovered of makiu' the macarel rise to the
surface, and follow me like a pack of dogs, will
cause old Blowhard's name to be remembered as
long as the fisheries are carried on. I'll explain
that dodge to you. You know we can't fish law-
fully within three leagues of the shore. Well,
the macarel arc chiefly inside of that, and there
they be as safe as a thief in a mill. The Blue-
noses are too everlastin' lazy to catch 'em, and we
can't get at 'em without the risk of being nabbed
and losin' vessel and all. So I set my wits
a-thinkin', and I invented a bait-cutter ; see, here is
one," and he opened a locker and took out a box
fitted with a handle like a coffee-mill, and having
a cylinder stuck full of sharp blades, that cut the
bait with rapidity and ease into minute particles.
" Now," sais he, " I just sails along in shore like —
for there is no harm in that, as long as you don't
fish there — and throw the bait over, and the fish
rise to the surface, and follow me to the right
distance; and then we at 'cm, and in with 'era

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

149

like vvmk. I have sailed afore now right alongside
of a great long seine, and taken the whole schoal
away. Creation ! how Bluenose used to stare
when he seed me do that ! One of 'em came on
board the * Old Eagle ' onct, and said he, ' Oh !
Capting, how on airth do you raise the fish from
the bottom that way, when no human bein' could
tell there was one there. I'll give you a hundred
dollars for that are secret, cash down on the
nail.'

" Well, you know it wouldn't do to sell secrets
to benighted foreigners that way, it would make
them grow kind of sarsy. So I always try to
put 'em off, and at the same time take a rise
out of 'em. So, sais I, ' friend, it would be
a sin and a shame to take your property for
nothin' that way ; it would be as bad as your
wreckers about your sow-sow-west shore. It's a
simple thing, and I'll tell it to you for nothin.'

" * Captin,' sais the critter, lookin' wide awake
for once, and so excited as actilly to take his
hands out of his trousers' pockets, where he had
kept 'em, since the week afore, except at meal-
hours and bed-time, out of pure laziness, 'now
that's what I call clever, and I don't mind if I
go below and take a glass of grog with you on
the strength of it.' And one thing I must say

^- I — ■ i» ' mn iii— I 111

150

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

V ^\

for the critters, if they are ia/* —and there's no
denyin' that — they ain't bashf'^' ; that's a Yankee
word they never heard on.

{( <

Well,' sais I, ' I ought to have thought of
that myself, that's a fact. Come let's go below,
for I don't want everyone to hear it, if it is so
simple.' Well, I takes him into the cabin,
shuts to the door, places the liquor on the table,
and draws up close, to be confidential. ' Take
a pull at that are particular old Bosting domestic
rum,' sais I. * It's some I keep on purpose for
treating them gentlemen to, Mr. Slick; it's made
of the lye of wood-ashes, sweetened with molasses,
and has some vitriol in it, to give it spirit; it's
beautiful stuff for them that likes it. It s manu-
factored by that pious old rascal, ' Pruise-the-
Lord.' The old villain got the other distillers
at the Cape to jine the temperance society with
him, so as to have things his own way, and
then sot to a brewin' this stuff; and when hauled
over the coals for sellin' liquor, sais he, * It's
neither rum, nor brandy, nor gin, nor whiskey,'
and so he ran on through the whole catelogue
that's in their oaths, ' nor distilled, nor farmented
liquorSj nor anything tetotallized agin, but just
an anti-cholic cordial, praise the Lord!'

" * Capting,' sais Bluenose, ' that's the rael

,Mi

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

151

thing, that are a fact. It ain't reduced. What
we buy along shore here is half water and half
rum, and scarcely that ; we are so cheated by
them that gets our fish. It's pceovverful, that's
sartain.'

** * Pee-owerful,' sais I, * I guess it is ; it
wouldn't take much of that to give weak eyes
and a sore throat, I can tell you. Fire will burn,
unless you keep it down with water.'

" * Well/ sais he, ' ain't you agoin' to drink
yourself ?'

. " ' I guess not,' sais I ; * I don't calculate in a
a general way to drink except at meal-times.*

" ' What,' said he, ' dont you take a mornin'
facer ?'

" ' No.'

" * Nor an appetizer ?'

"'No.'

" ' Nor a better luck still ?'

" ' No.'

" ' Well, well !' sais he, * if that don't pass,
and you all the time having it standin' so invitin'
alongside of you in the locker ! You tie the
night-cap though sometimes, don't you ?'

" ' Sometimes I do,' sais I, * when I think on it,
but I forget it as often as not. Now,' sais I, * I'll
(eU you the secret, for I got tired of this long

if I

152

THE LANGUAGE OF M\CKEREL.

lockrum about nothin' ; but,' sais I, * before I
give it to you, will you promise me you will try
itf

" ' Oh yes,* suis he, * I will, and only be too
glad to try it.*

" * Will you try it at onct,' sais I, * so that
I can see you onderstand how to go about
it?'

" ' I will,' sais he/

" Well, that being settled, we shook hands on
it, and, sais I :

** ' There is nothin' easier in natur'. Get into
a diver's suit, be let down gently in among the
mackerel, and lam their lingo ; and then you can
call them, and they'll follow you like dogs. I
soon picked it up : it's very easy.'

"'What! fish talkV sais he. ' Come, I aint
quite so green. Who ever heard the like o' that,
as fish talkin' ?'

" ' Aye, my man,' sais I, ' and larfin' too. Did
you ever see a ripplin' on the water like air-bubbles,
when a shoal of fish rises V

" ' Often,' sais he. * The water bubbles up
like beer in a tumbler.'

" ' Well,' sais I * that's the fish a larfin' at some
odd old fellow's story. I never would have thought
it possible they were such a merry set, if I hadn't

THE LANGUAGE OP MACKEREL.

153

a seen it with my own eyes, and the fondest of a
joke you ever see. They are a takin' a rise out of
some young goney now, depend upon it, judgin' by
the bul)bl('S there is on the water. Onct when I
was down among them, they sent a youngster off to
invite a cod to come and sup with them. As
soon as the old fellow saw him, out he goes to
meet him, gallows polite, and swallers him down
like wink. Creation ! how the whole shoal larfed
at the way the goney was sold.*

" ' Well, well !' sais he, • that beats all, that's a
fact. Fish talkin' ! Is it possible ?'

" * Don't you know that crows talk ?' sais I.

" * Well,' sais he, ' I do. I've seen that myself.
Many a long day I've laid down in our pasture,
a-stretched out at full length, a watchin' the
vessels pass, and obsarvin' the action of the
crows.'

" * Hardwork that, warn't it ?' sais I.

" * Well,' sais he, * if you was made to do it, I
suppose it would be ; but I liked it, and what you
like aint hard. I'll just help myself to a little
more of that cordial, for I like it too. Well, I
have heard the crows talk to each other, and seen
them plant sentries out when they seed me a
watchin' of them, and once I actilly saw them hold
a court-martial. The old veterans came from all

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154

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

the ports about here, and from all the islands, and
bluffs and shores, up and down ; and the culprit
hung his head down, and looked foolish enough,
you may depend. What he had done, I don't
know. Whether he had run off with another
crow's wife, or stole a piece of meat, or went to
sleep when he was on guard, or what, I don't
know, but arter consultin' together, they turned to
and fell on him, and killed him, and then ad-
journed the court and dispersed ; that's a natural
fact. And now we are or* the subject,' said he, ' I'll
tell you another thing I once seed. There were some
seals used to come ashore last summer at my
place, sometimes singly, and sometimes in pairs.
Well, at that time I w^as out of powder ; and I
don't know how it is with you, Capting, but it
seems to me when I get out of things, that's the
very identical time I wants 'em most. Well, the
store is a matter of two miles off, and I was
waitin* for some of my neighbours to be a goin'
that way to send for some, so I had an opportunity
to watch them several days, and it's a nactual fact,
I'm going to tell you. Them and the gulls kind
of knocked up an acquaintance considerable inti-
mate. Well, at last the powder came, and I
loaded my gun and sneaked along on all-fours to
get a shot at a fellow that was dozin' there ; and

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

155

just as I got to about the correct distance, what do
you think ? a cussed gull that was a watchin' of me,
guessed what I was about, and off to the seals
like wink, and gave such a scream in the critters
ear, as he sailed over him, that he jumped right
up with fright, and goes kerwallop head over ears
into the water in no time ; that's a nateral
fact.'

" ' Why, in course,' sais I, ' there's a voice in all
natur'. Everythin' talks from a woman down to
a crow, and from a crow to a mackerel. I believe
your story of the crows.'

" * I'll swear to it,' sais he.

" ' You needn't swear to it,' sais I ; * I believe
it, and besides I never swear to any o' ray stories ;
it makes swearin' too cheap.'

" * Well,' sais he, * seein' that crows talk, 1
believe that story of the fish too ; it must be so,
else how could they all keep together ? but I must
say it's the strangest story I ever h(iard since I
was born, and opened my ears and heard. It
does sound odd, but I believe it/

" ' Well then take another drop of that cordial,
for you miglit feel cold.'

" ' Oh, no !' said he, ' I don't feel cold a
bit.'

•■••^wnan>v*iaa

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156

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

" * But you mijrht by and bye,' said I ; but the
critter didn't see what I was at.

" ' Come let's go on deck,' sais I ; * and John
Brown,' sais I, ' bring up the diven' dress. Jim
Lynch, fetch the leads, and fasten them on to this
gentleman's feet ; and do you hear there, Noah
Coffin, reave an inch-rope through the eye of the
studden sail-boom — be quick — bear a hand there ;
we aie just on the right spot.'

" ' For what ?' said Blue-nose.

" ' For puttin' you into the divin' dress and
throwen you overboard to lam your first lesson, in
mackerel language.*

" * Why, capting,' sais he, a-edjin' off slowly,
and his eyes glazen, like a wild cat that's a facin'
of the dogs ; ' why, capting, you aint agoin' to
force me whether I will or no.'

" ' That's the bargain,' sais I. ' Bear a hand,
boys, and see if you aint overboard in no time.'

" I took one step forward, as if about to catch
him, when he put a hand on the taffrail, sprang
into his boat, and pushed off in a minute, and
rowed ashore like mad.

" What a pity it is, Mr. Slick, that such a fine
race of men as these Nova Scotians should be so
besotted by politics as they are. T»iey expect

fine
)e so
[xpect

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

157

England to do everythin' for 'em, build railroads,
and canals, and docks, and what not, and then
coax them to travel by them, or use them, while
they lay in the field, stretched out at full length,
and watch crows like that chap, or bask in the
sun day arter day, and talk about sponsible go-
vernment, and rail agin every sponsible man in the
colony. But that's their look out, and not ourn,
only I wish they would improve the country better
before we come and take it.

" Now, I'll show you the use of that ere jigger.
A man who goes a-fishin' should know the habits
and natur' of the fish he is after, or he had better
stay to home. All fish have difi^erent habits, and
are as much onlike as the Yankees and Blue-noses
be. Now there is the shad, I believe they have
no ears, for they don't mind noises a bit; and
when a feller is hard a-hearin', we say h(^ is as
deaf as a shad ; but they see well, and you can't
catch 'em easy enough with the hook to make it
worth while. Now the mackerel don't see very
plain. There's a kind of film comes on their eyes
in winter that makes them half-blind, and then
drops off as summer comes. Natur', to counter-
act it, has made their hearin' very cute, and their
infirmity of sight makes them very shy and timid-
like. I have actilly seen a shoal of them when

'li
if

M
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i58

THE LANGUAGE OF MACKEREL.

they have got into an inlet, kept there hy two or
three hoats stationed at the entrance, with the
crew in 'em a-splashin' in the water with their
oars. The moment they heard that, down they
went to the bottom, and stayed there until they
were all scooped out with nets — fact, I assure
you.

" Now the use of that jigger will be when the
fish are brought up to the surface, it can be let into
the water easy without frightcnin' of th„m ; and
when it's drawn up, its arms will be full of fish.
These are things that must be studied out. Every
created critter has an instinct for self-preservation.
If you would catch them, you must set your reason
to work ; and as that is stronger than instinct, if
you go the right way about it, you will circumvent
them in the eend.

" But come let's liquor, the sun is gettin' over
the foreyard, as we sailors say. Slick, here's your
good health. I say, that warn't a bad rise, was it ?
I took out of Blue-nose about ' the language of
inackereV "

h ■

THE BEST NATURED MAN IN THE WORLD. 159

or
L the
their

they

they
issure

3n the
et into
; and
,f fish.
Every
•vation.
reason
inct, if
imvent

\ over
[s your
/as it ?
\age of

CHAPTER VIII,

THE BEST NATURED MAN IN THE WORLD.

Finding the captain really good naturcd now, I
took the opportunity of attending to the duties of
the office I had accepted, produced and read to
him my commission and instructions, and asked
his advice as to the mode and manner of exe-
cuting it.

" Silently, Mr. Slick," he replied, as the Puritan
minister said to the barber who asked him how
he would be shaved ; ' silently. Sir,' sais he. * Do
it as quietly as you can.' On business, men are
on their guard : in conversation, confidential. Folks
don't like to be examined by a public officer, they
don't know the drift of it exactly, and aint quite
sartified, they wont be overhauled for their doins,

'^Xiyvrr-M.1 .-m"**-.

160

THE BEST NATURED

H . I

and get themselves into a fix. Right without
might don't avail much, and authority without
power to force obedience, is like a boat without
oars, it can't go ahead. I wouldn't, if I was you,
let every one know what your main object was, if
you do, you will get more plans than facts, and
more advice than information."

He tlien entered minutely into the description
of the fisheries, their extent, the manner in which
they were carried on, and the improvements they
were capable of, furnished me with a vast deal
of useful information, and gave me the names
of the persons on the coast I was to pump dry, as
he called it. He also gave me sr^me tables and
calculations he had made on the subject, which he
had privately prepared for Mr. Adams some time
since.

" These figures and details wont interest you
much, Squire, for you hante a turn that way, and
beside it aint our custom, as it is in England, to
publish everything in newspapers, that our public
men or national departments are doin' for the
country. Blartin' out a discovery afore you take a
patent may help others, but it keeps you poor.
But I must say this, neither your folks, nor ourn,
know the vast importance of these fisheries, though
we are a more wide awake people than provincials

MAN IN THE WORLD.

161

be. That which made Amstersdam ought to
make Halifax.''

I knew Blijwhiird had groat experience, but I
bad no idea, vvbat a elear bead and enlarged views
he had. It don't do to judge men by their appear-
ance, and conversation is more than half the time
a refuge from thought or a blind to conceal it.

Having fixed this matter up snug, sais I,
" Captin, I have come here on. a very disagreeable
business, and I want your advice and assistance.
That vessel a lay in' outside there is tin; ' Black
Hawk.' "

" I know it," he said, '*' I could tell her among
a tho\isand ; next to the ' Eagle ' she is the most
beautiful craft of the whole American mackerel
•fleet."

" Well," sais I, " the skipper has gone mad."

" Mad," said he, and the word seemed to annov
him, "not a bit of it — odd like a little, perhaps, but
a good sailor I. warrant, mad, hay ! Why they say
I am mad, just cause I go where others darsent
follow me, and kt;ep order and will have it on V^
board ; I am the best natured man living."

At that moment the cook made his appearance
accompanied by the cabin boy, to whom he gave
some instruction about the table. The instant
Blowhard saw the former, he suddenly boiled over

VOL. I. M

162

THE BEST NATURED

i'-t

with rage and looked the very picture of a mad-

man.

" Come here you old Lucifer," said he, " or I'll
make the whites of your two great goggle eyes
the same colour as your fac(;, black as midnight."

" Tank you, massa," said the negro, holding the
door in his hand, " but you mad now, and I berry
busy gCi I ;ner ready; you said half past
elebcn, ana it is irst gone eleben, and I see the
breeze off Ragg(;d Island."

"Eleven }ou villain," said the captain, " I wish
I could get my paw upon you ; it's half ppst

now.

" Oh, massa Commodore, you mad now ; just
look at an? ole cromcter turnip of yourn."

The captain pulled out a large silver watch,
resembling that vegetable; more than a modern
time-piece, and instantly recovering his good
humour said : " Well, cookey, you are right for
oncet in your life, that are a fact, come here, here
is a glass of monogohela for you cookey. Tip
that off, and then stir your stumps."

" Massa, your berry good health, same to you
massa Sam, and massa mate." Drinking it off he
returned to the door, which he held as a screen
in his hand, and then shewing two rows of ivory
that extended almost from ear to ear, he turned

MAN IN THE WORLD.

H)3

and said : " Now next time, massa, don't go pt
mad for noten," and vanished.

** Mad ! You sec they say I am mad," he
said again ; " l)ut there never was so good-
natured a man as I be. I never was mad in
my life, cxeept I was put out ; and there is
enough on hoard a v(^ssel to drive a man dis-
tracted. I never saw a rail Yankee mad nother,
except he madi' a bad specilation. No, v . don't
go crasy, we got too much sense for that and
Blue-nose has too little — t\w Dutch is loo slow
for it, and a nigger has no care ; but a mad ^rencit-
man is a sight to behold. I shall nev^r forget a
fellar once I drove ravin' distracted. I was
bound for Prince Edward's Island fishery ; and
1 never made such a run afore or since, as tliat
from Cape Cod to Arichat. There the wiiu!
failed, and not feelin' well, I took the boat, and
went ashore to the doctor.

" Sais he, ' you must take five powders of
calomel and colyciuth, one every other night,'
and he did them up as neat as you please, in
white slips of paper, quite workmanlike.

" ' What's the damage ?' sais I.

" * Eigh teen-pence,' sais he.

" ' Eighten what !' sais I, a raisin' of my voice,
so as to be heard in airnest.

M 2

«<

I '

164

THE BEST NATURED

" ' Eightcen-pcncc/ he said. ' I can't sell 'em
no cheaper, that colycinth is expensive, and don't
keep well ; and you must import it from London
yourself.'

*' ' I hope I may never see Cape Cod again if
I do,' sais I.

" * I don't mean you,' he said, quite cool ; ' 1
mean me.'

" ' Then why the plaugue didn't you say so ?' sais I.

" ' I can't take no less,' said he. ' This is a
poor country here. Sometimes I ride five or
six miles to see a sick woman ; well, half the
time I don't get paid at all, sometimes I get
only a few dried fish, or a little butter, or may
be a dozen of eggs, and often nothin' but a
dozen fleas. If it's too dear take it for nothin',
for I won't take less.'

" ' Why you old salts and sinna,' said I, ' do
you think 1 am complainin' of the price? I was
complaining of you bein' such a fool as to charge
so little. Who the plague can live arter that
fashion ? There,' sais I, ' is a dollar, keep that,'
a throwin' of it down on his counter, * and I will
keep the medicine, for I'll be hanged if I take
it. The smell of your shop has half cured me
already, and lots of molasses and water, I guess,
will do the rest.'

t '

MAN IN THE WORLD.

1G5

I, 'do
I was
;harge

that
that/
I will

take
led me
guess,

" Well, 1 picked up the powders, and put them
into my waistcoat-pocket, and thought no more
about 'em. I pitied that are doctor, for I took
a kind of likin* to him, seein' he was like me,
had great command of himself, and kept cool.
So when I was ready to leave, ' Dr. Pain,' sais
I, *I am the best-natured man in the world,
I do beheve ; but I hope I may be most parti-
cularly d — d, if I could stand such ])atients
as you have. Take my advice, cuss and quit.'

" * Don't swear,* said he, ' it's apoplectic, and
it's profane.'

" ' Swear,* sais I, ' who the devil made you
a preacher ? If it warnt for your fleas I'd flay
you alive, you old — *

" ' Take care,' said he, * you'll break that retort.'

" * Retort !' sais I ; ' to be sure I will retort,
it's my fashion to give as good as I get.'

" ' The man is drunk,' said he, mumbling to
himself; and he shpt into an inner room, and
bolted the door.

" It appears to me people teaze me a purpose
sometimes, just because I am good-natured.

" Well, as I was a sayin', as soon as I got
on board the breeze spnnig up agin, and we
slipped through the Gut of Canso quite easy,
but owin* to the eddies and flaws of wind, some-

.fwsK^mm

16C

THE BEST NATURED

times one cond foremost and sometimes the other,
and we passed Sand Point, Ship Harhour, Pirate's
Cove, Plaister IMuff, McNair's Bight, and all the
other hiding and smugghiig places, one arter the
other. Just as we got off Indigue ledges, a fishing-
l)oat hore down on us.

" ' Any fish, Captane ?'

" ' What's your name ?' siiis I ; for I always like
to answer one question hefore I answer another.

" ' Nicholas Bahan,' said he.

" He was a little dried-up wizened Frenchman,
that looked more like a hahboon than anvthinff
else. He had a pair of mocassins on his feet,
tanned and dressed, with the hair on the out-
side ; his homespun trousers didn't come much
below the knee, and the calf between that and
the little blue sock was bare, and looked the
colour of a smoked salmon. His jacket, like his
trousers, had shrunk up too, and only came to
the pockets of his waistcoat, while the blue cloth
it .was fi»*st made of, was patched all over with
another kind, having white stripes, such as the
Frenchwomen wear for petticoats. His cap, for
hat he had none, had been cobbled up out of
M red worsted, and a piece of fox-skin, with
the tail hanging down rakishly behind. In the
front was stuck two little black pipes. He was

MAN IN THE WORLD.

Ifi7

a pictur' to behold, and so was the other critter
in tl"! bow of the boat.

" * Any fish, Captane ? Best Hoke code-tish
jist caii[!;ht, vary good.'

"'Well,' sais I, 'Mr. Uabboon, T don't r.a-e
if I do. Tlirow us up on deck two dozen, for
a nness of chowder.*

" Well, they was as pretty a lot of cod as I
most ever seed. Them Itidges is the best boat-
fishinjr ground I know on, on the whole coast.
'Now,' sais I, ' Mr. liabboon, ' what's to pay ?'

*' * Anyting you like, Captane.'

"'Anyting is nothin',' sais I. 'Name your
price, for time is money, and we must be a movin'
on agin. Come, what's the damage?'

" * Oh, anyting you like, Sure.'

And the deuce a thing else could ! get
out of him ; but * anyting you like, Sare,'
which I didn't like at all ; at last I began
to get ryled. Tiiinks I, I'll teach you to speak
out plain next time, I know ; so I put my iiand
in my waistcoat-pocket, and took out something
to fnve him. ' Here,' sais I, ' Mr. Babl)oon,' a
stretciiin' out my hand to him ; and he reached
up hisHi to receive his pay, and began to tliank
me gallus polite afore he got it.

1C8

THE BEST NATURED

"'Tank you, Sare, vaij much obliegc'

" ' Hero's five calomel powderb,' said I, and
1 dropt them into his hand. ' Taki; one every
other night agoin' to bed, in some sweatenin'
or another, and it will clear your complexion
for you, and make you as spry as a four-year-
old.'

" Oh ! I never saw anvthin^: like that mad
Frenchman. He fairly yelled, he tore off his
old cap and jumped on it, and let out a bald
pat(; of a lighter colour than his face, that made
him look something not human. He foamed,
and raved, and jabbered, and threw his arms
about, and shook his clenched fist at me, and
swore all sorts of oaths. French oaths, Gaelic
oaths — for there is a large Highland settlement
back of Tndigue — Indian cusses, and Yankee and
English and Irish oaths. They all came out in one
great long chain , and I am sartin' if anybody
had taken hold of one eend of it, afore the links
broke and stret(;hed 'em out strait, they would have
reached across the Gut of Canso.

" Well, arter I thought he had let off steam
enough for safety, I took out of my pocket a
handful of loose silver, and held it out to him.
' Come, Mr. Babboon,' said I, * come and takcj

MAN IN THE WORLD.

169

your pay, I don't want your fish for nothin', and
go I must ; so come now, like a good feller,
and let us part friends.'

" But it only sot him off agin as bad as
ever ; but this time, it was all abuse of us
Yankees. Well, I can stand a glass or two of
that, but more gets into my head, and excites
me. Thinks I, my boy I'll cool you. I always
have a hand-engine on board for wettin' sails ;
it makes them thicker, heavier, and h(»ld the
wind better. We had been usin' ourn that
morning' te help us through the Gut, for the
currents were bothersome at thti time. ' Give
me the hose,' said I ; ' and let a hand stand
ready to work tlie pump. Are you ready ?'
sais I.

" ' Yes,' sais the man.

" * Now,' .sais I, ' Mr. Babboon, I'll wash your
face for yf)U, afore you go home to .see th(; old
lady,' and let go a stream all over him.
Some of it actilly went down his mouth
and nearly choked him, he and t'other
feller pulled off out of reach, hoisted sail,
anil nui(l(^ tracks for th(^ shore as .straight as
the crow tlies. I Mt kinder sorry for him too,
for he lost two dozen beautiful cod, and got a
duckin' into the bargain ; but it was his own

170

THE BEST NATURED

I i' fi

; 'I

fault, he oufrht to have kept a civil tongue in liis
head. Yes, I think Parly voo Frenchman will
beat any created critter at getting mad."

" But, Captin," sais I, " our skipper is actilly
mad, and no mistake."

" What's his name ?" said he.

"Jabish Green."

" What ! Jabish Green, of Squantum ?" said he,
a jumpin' up on eend.

"The same," sais I.

" Mad !" said he. *' To be sure he is ; jis mad
as a March hare. That's poor okl Jim McGory,
as they call him ; as good a critter, and as good
a seaman, as ever trod shoe-leather. Oh, I guess
he is mad. It's all day with him, ])oor feller !
and has been ever since that everlastin' scoundrel,
Jim MeGory, came out of the South, and got up
protracted meetins in our parts, so as to keep
the hat passin' round all the time. Gracious
knows he was bad enough that feller, but he
made liimself out a lumch-ed times wus tlian
he was. He hed as fast as a horse could trot.
He said he had been a Vixburg gambler, a horse-
stealer, a nigger-kidnappcT, a vvracker, a pirate,
and I don't know what he didn't own to. The
greater the sinner, the greater the saint, you know.
Well, he said he was convarted in the middle of

!' 1

MAN IN THE WORLD.

171

good

guess

f(,>ll('r !

ndrel,

ot up

krcp

Mcious

it he

than

trot.

lorsc-

)iratc,

rho

enow.
k- of

the niffht, bv an evanm'lieal call, ' Jim McGorv,
come to gloiy !' Oh, the crowds of foclish women
and men that followed arter that man, would
astonish you. It appears to me, the mori; on-
likely things arc, the more folks believe th(jr.:.
Poor Jahish attended a ])rotracted meetin' of that
critter's, down to Squantum, tliat lasted three
days and three nights ; and the following night,
he was so excited he didn't sleep a wink, and
they couldn't get no sense out of him ; he coukhi't
sav anvtliinfT, l)ut that are profane rhvme over
and over, and they had to send him to the asylum.
Who on airth could have shij)ped that nan '* Who
are the owners of the ' Black Hawk ?' "

" I don't know."

" Have vou a tradin' cargo of notions on
board?"

" Yes.

»>

{(

Then, it's the Boston folks. Thev don't

know nothiu' about the fisherv

lev

ave

hirec' this man 'cause they have got him cheap,
and they think they are doin' great things, 'cause
they get such a large profit on their goods ; but
tliev don't count the time thev lose, and it's no
b(!tt('r than pedlin' at last ; and if there is a
created crittiT 1 hate and despise, it's i\ pedlar —
the cheatin', Ivin', ramhlin', lazv villain."

1" ' ^'^-.M/-.

172

THE BEST NATURED

" Ex'.:cpt a clock pedlar," sais I, wiiikin' to him.

" No," sais ho, a raisin' of his voice, until
uc roared amost, (for when a man is wrong, and
wonH admit it, he always r/et.-t angry). " No,
I won't exc<!pt them. Tliere haint hcen an honest
one here since your time ; tlu^ is the vvust of
all; and a wooden clock now is like a wooden
nutmeg, or a hickory ham — a standin' joke agin
our great nation. Well, what do you want mc
to do, Mr. Slick ?"

" Take this skipper home with you."

After a })ause of a moment, he said, " No,
I can't do that. I am the host tempered man
in the world, but I haint got patience ; and if he
went for to go for to give me any of his nonsense
about Jim McGory, I supposit I should turn to
and thrash him, and that would onlv make him
wus. Here's the * Nantasket,' of Nantucket,
alongside here. Tlu^ Captiu is fonder of quack
medicines than Babboou, the Frenchman, was, by
a long clialk. I'll get liim to give him a passage
home. So that's settled."

" Well," sais I, " there is another chap that
must go home ; and I told him ail about Enoch
Eels tantalizin' the skijvper, and si.'ttin' him out of
his mind ; but," sais 1, " I am afraid he won't
quit th(i vessel."

MAN IN THE WORLD.

173

that
iBiioch

I (Hit of

won't

" Won't her said he. " Then I'll make hini,
that's all. I'll soon larn him the difference he-
tvveen Jim McGory and Old IMowhard, I know.
He's jist the chap I want — somithing to tame :
it keeps one in good Immour. I had a hear
on hoard ^nst ; I had him lor three .seas(;ns.
He was a great comfort to me, when I had nothin'
to do. I I M'd to let him loose, take a short iron
har in my h'uui, and give him lessons in manners.
It was gr.nit fun ; hut heing so well-fed, he grew
to he so strong a hrute, he hi^came ohstropolus
and trouhlesome, and used to drive tlie men up
the riggin' som<'tirnes. Nobody could manage
him but me; for a crack over the nose with
the iron-bar always made him civil. A bear's
nose, you know, Mr. Slick, is as tender as a
feller's that's got a cold in his head. It kept
us all in good humour. I used to like to get him
near Satan, tail on, give him a whack on the rump,
and put my rod behind me as quick as wink,
when he'd turn short, lay right hold of the cook's
leg with his claws, and give him a nip. But
somehow, I consait, bears don't like niggers ; for
he always let go soon, and then sneezed for a
minute or so, as if he smelt pyson. Well, one
day, cook was called aft, just ac the men's dinner
was read} ; and in slipt bear, aod began to pay

174

THE BEST NATURED

a.',v!iy at it in rail airncst; h\!t he scjilded his
paws, and skinned his nose with tlie sou]), and
the meat was so liot, lie had to holt it. The pain
set him ravin' distracted mad; and w]»en he came
out of the caboiise, ho cleared the deck in less
than half no time. He was danirorous, that's
a tact. Well, 1 got the rod, and h(; gave m(^
a stand-uj) flight for it ; and at last, after he had
warded otf a good many blows, I hit him a crack
on th(; snout ; and he tuni-'d, and went into his
den, slowlv and sulkily, a lofkin' over his siioolder
as lie went, and grinnin' awful wicked. The
short, quick way he lifti;d up his scalded paws
off the deck, instead of his usual slouching gait,
was the funniest thino: vou ever saw,

" Ney.t mornin', when I turned out, I seed all
thr men was on deck, and Bruin's door standin'
open. ' Where's the bar?' sais I.

" * lie iiot out afore day,' sais they ; ' and as
his piiws were scakli'd and sore, we kinder guess
h{. went overboard to cool 'em.'

" I soed how it was : the villains had made him
wJk the ikuik. Oh, Solomon ! didn't I bile up,
readv lo ruL over the lid! for I don't like fellers
to make frti with me or mine. But 1 threw
a little grain of prudence into it, and it went
right down in a minute, jist as a drop of water

MAN IN THE WORLD.

175

him

,ater

puts down bilin' maplc-suf^ar. I liavc great roin-
mand over myself — 1 Ixilieve 1 am the })est-
tempered man in the world. Sais I to myself,
' It aint right to keep this brute to bother tlu^m,
and he's got dangerous ; and if he was to make
mince-meat of any of 'em, it would be heavy on
one's conscience, if a feller was on his beam-end.'
So sais I, ' Weil, it's jist as well he has taken
a swim to shore, f(tr he aint safe, is he? and shee|)
seems more nateral food than humans for him.
I should have liked though,' said I, * if you could
a caught him as lie went over by the ears, and
drawed liis skin otT, as he sprung out; the hide
was worth tva'nty dollars.'

" Well, they larfed at that joke, but they didn't
krjow mo. I alw.i

^^^'

it's like driving down the wad well, when the gun
goes otf it makes a louder report. J warn't well
pleased, and vet I can't say I was sorry, only I
wished they had asked leave, and I turned and
went below. It's better to he cheated than chafed
when you can't help yourself. Presenth I heered

V I * ft

an awful noise on deek, all the iiands shoutiii' and
cheerin' and callin' out at the top eend of their

voice.

(( (

Hulio !' sals T, ' what in natur' is all this ?

hds Stiites Prison broke loose?*

176

THE liEST NATURI:D

" ' Look there,' siiis they, ' look at Bruin the
bear.*

" We was about a mile and a half from Louis-
burg, and, it was n<'arly calm. Two French fisher-
men had couKJ out in a boat to take up th(;ir nets
and while their backs was turned, Bruin claws
over the bow, and there he was a sittin* on his
haunches a-grimiin' and a-inakin' faces at 'em,
and a-hckin' of his cho])s with his great red
tongue, as if he had heard of Fninch dishes, and
wanted to try one.

" Well, they yelled and roared with fright, but
the bear was used to noises, and didn't onderstand
no language but Indgian and English, and held
his ground like a man. At last one of the
Frcnehers got the boat-hook and made a poke at
him ; but he knocked it out of his hand away up
into t\u) air ever so far, and then actilly roared, he
was so mad.

" ' Lower the boat,' sais I * mv men. Bt;
quick. Mate, you and I must go with our rii'.es ;
and Tim Lynch, you are a good shot too, bear a
hand we must be quick, or he'll breakfast off those
chaps. Take your knives with you.'

"Well, we pulled off, and got within good
shootin' distance, when I told the Frenchmen to
lie flat down iu the boat, and we'd shoot the bar.

MAN IN THE WORLD. '

177

imis-
sher-

nets
daws
»n his

'em,
t red
s, and

lit, but
3rstand
d bold
of the

oko at
|wuy up

red, be

n. Be

ril'.es ;
bear a
Iff those

n good

[men to

the bar.

Well, jist as they throwed themselves down, bur
l)ejj;an to make prtiparations for ondressin' of 'em,
when the mate and I fired, and down h«; fell on
one of the seats and smashed it in two. The
man at the helm jumj)ed overboard and swam
towards us, but the other neither rose nor spoke.
The bar had fallen on him, when he gave himself
up for lost and fainted. We shipped the bar into
our boat, put the helmsman back into his'n, and
raised t'other feller on his feet, arter whieli we re-
turned to the * Eagle.'

" No, I'd like to tame Enoeh Eells. Then;
would be fun it, wouldn't there ? Cook, keep the
dinner back, till further orders. Four hands in
the boat there — move (|uiek. Come, let's go on
board the ' Blaek Hawk.' "

" Massa," said Satan, " I know you is de best-
natured man in de world, 'eept six, and derefore I
retreat you dine fust ; it's half-past eleben now,
and dinner is pipin' hot, and dat are Jamaiky does
smell so oloriferous," and he held back his head
and snuffed two or three times, as if he longed to
taste of it agin ; " and Massa Sam aint well, I is
sure he aint, is you, Massa Sam ?"

That familiar word, Sam, from a nigger was
too much for poor Blowhard.

" Sam ! the devil," said he, raisin' his voice to

VOL. I. N

'♦*

178 THE BEST NATURED MAN IN THE WORLD.

its utmost pitch, " how dare you, you black imp of
darkness, talk befor(3 me that way '*

And he seized his favourite jigger, but as he
raised it in the air, Satan absquotulated. The
captin glared at the closing door most savagely ;
but being disappointed of his prey, he tumtid to
me with a look of fury.

" I agree with you, captin," sais I, quite cool ;
" I think we might as well be a-movin."

" Come then," said he, suddenly lowerin' his
tone, " come then, let us go ahead. Mr. Slick,"
said he, "I believe they will drive me mad at last ;
every fellow on board of this vessel takes liberties
with me, thinking I'll stand it, because they know
/ am the best-natured man in the world."

np of

as he
The

igely ;
ned to

THE BAIT BOX.

179

J cool ;

in' his
Shck,"
at last ;
liberties
y know

CHAPTER IX.

THE BAIT BOX.

" So he wont leave th(! vessel, eh ?" said Cap-
tain Love, " well, a critter that wont move must
he made to go, that's all. There is a motive
power in all natur'. There is a current or a breeze
for a vessel, an ingine for a rail-car, necessity for
poverty, love for the femenine gender, and glory
for the hero. But for men, I like persuasion ; it
seems to convene better w ith a free and enlightened
citizen. Now here," said he, openin' his closet,
and taking out his 'ro; e-yarn,' (the formidable
instrument of punishment 1 have spoken of,) " here
is a persuader that nothing can stand. Oh ! he
wont come, eh ? well we'll see !"

As soon as we went on board the ' Black Hawk,'

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IIIIIM

2.0

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Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

lo^

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180

THE BAIT BOX.

we descended into the large cabin, and there sat
Mr. Enoch Eells apart from the rest, with his head
restin' on his hands, and his elbows on his knees,
lookin' as if he had lost every friend he had in the
world, and was a tryin' to fancy their faces on the
floor.

" Mornin' to you, Mr. Eells," said the skipper,
" come to invite you on board the ' Bald Eagle,' to
take a trip hum to see your friends again."

" Well, I wont go," said he, " so just mind
your own business."

" Hold up your head, man, and let me look at
you," he replied, and he seized him by the collar,
lifted him on his feet, and exposed his face to view.
It was a caution, you may depend, swelled, and
cut, and bruised and blackened dreadful.

" Hullo !" said the skipper, " what's all this :
who has been ill-using the man? It must be
inquired into. What's the matter, here ?" and he
pretended to look all surprised.

" Why," said the second mate, " the matter is
just this, Enoch, instead of mindin' his business,
aggravated the captin' and set him mad ; and
instead of mindin' my business, as I had ought to
do, I returned the compliment, first aggravated,
and then set him mad, and we fit. I must say, I
took him in, for I know how to box £.cientific."

THE BAIT BOX.

181

" Workmanlike, you mean," the captain said,
" I hate and despise that word * scientific;' it is a
cloak to cover impudence and ignorance. A feller
told me as we started last voyage, he fished scien-
tific. * Then you are just the hand for me,' said
I. ' What's the cause of that film on the mackerel's
eye in winter?'

" ' What film ?' said he.

" * And what's the scientific cause that the
cataract drops off of itself without a doctor to
couch it with a needle?'

" ' What cataract ?' said he.

" * Why you imposter,' said I, * you said you
fished scientific ; get up your traps ; go as^ lore and
finish your schoolin',' and I put him into the boat
and landed him. Finery in talk is as bad as finery
in dress ; and our great country is overrun with it.
Things aint solid and plain now a-days as they used
to be ; but they are all veneered and varnished. Say
workmanlike and I wont nonconcur you, for I
must say the business was done thorough."

" Well," sais Bent, " call it what you like, I was
taughten the art, and he warnt, or he v/ould have
made small bait of me in no time, ior he is as
brave as he is strong, and I don't believe there is an
untaught man of his inches could stand before him."

Eells jumpt right up on eend at that, and caught

»|r:

!!i

I' 'ili

f m

ill

182

THE BAIT BOX.

him by the hand. " Mr. Bent," said he, " you
you have spoke like a man. I feel I was wrong ;
I am very sorry for it ; let us part friends. It is
better I should go ; the lesson wont be lost on me."

" Exactly,'* said Blowhard, " the lesson is
deeper than you think, your father owns half this
here vessel ; now a man that is richer than his
neighbour, is expected to be liberal of his civility as
well as his money ; civility is a cheap coin that is
manufactured for nothin', and among folks in
general goes further than dollars and cents. But
con. 3, we must be a movin'. Mr. Eells" — and he
marked the word ' Mr.' to show he was pleased —
" as soon as you are ready come on board, it wiU
look better than goin' with me, it seems voluntary
and free-will like.

"Now, Mr. Slick, let us go on board of the
' Nantasket' and see Capting Oby Furlong, old
Sarsiparilly Pills, as I call him. He is a good
kind of man in his way, but death on quack
medicines, and especially sarsiparilly, for which he
is going to take out a patent. Mate, when you
see a flag hoisted, come on board with the capting,
fetch him without his luggage, and then he will
think there is no compulsion, and you can return
for that arterwards. Come, boys, shove off."

" Mr. Slick," said the mate, " do you think I'll

THE BAIT BOX.

183

be sued ? It's a great risk and a heavy respon-
sibility this.*'

" Stand a one side," said I, " how dare you talk
that way to me ?"

"Yes, Mr. Slick," said the skipper, "every
man has his hobby, and on board ship it is
actilly necessary to have some hobby or another,
or the bottle is apt to be sent for as a companion.
It is a dull life at sea, sometimes, and a sameness
in it even in its varieties, and it is a great thing
to have some object for the mind to work on,
where there are no passengers. Now there is
my bait-box and patent-jigger inventions; there
is Matey with his books and studies, and here
is Oby Furlong with an apothecary's shop on
board. The want of these things makes captings
of men-of-war tyrants ; when they don't study,
their bobby is to bother their men, and their whole
talk is discipline.

" Comn^odore Marlin, of the * Ben Lomond,' a
British seventy-four, once hailed me off Fcx
Island, to ask some questions about the passage
thro' the gut of Canso. He was a tight-built,
well-made, active, wiry man, and looked every
inch a sailor ; but the word tyrant was writ
over all in big print. There was a fightin'

184

THE BAIT BOX.

devil, and a bullyin' devil at the same time in
his eyes and mouth, and it ain't often they go
together, for it's mostly cowards that bully; but
that man looked as if he warnt afeard of old
Scratch himself. It ain't always necessary to
look fierce ; I ain't skeered of old Nick nuther ;
but I am as meek as a lamb. I do believe in
my soul I am the best natured man living; but
that is neither here nor there.

" When I went aft to him — for he didn't meet
me a step, tho' he sent for me himself — he eyed
me all over, from head to foot, silent and scorney
like, as much as to say, what a queer old thrasher
you be ? I wonder if you are any relation to the
sea-sarpent, or the hippopotamus, or any of these
outlandish animals ? He never so much as asked
me to sit down, or to go into his cabin, or take a
glass to drink with him, or said a word in favour
of my beautiful little craft, which sailors always do,
when they can with truth.

" It seems to me, all created critters look down
on each other. The British and French look
down on the Yankees, and colonists look dowm
upon niggers and Indians, while we look down
upon them all. It's the way of the world, I do
suppose ; but the road ain't a pleasant one. ' A

■ ■.>« i^

THE BAIT BOX,

185

" * Are you acquainted with the navigation of
the straits of Canso ?' said he.

" ' I guess I ought to be,' sais I.

" ' That's not the question,' said he. ' Are you,
or are you not ?'

" ' Do you know it ?' sais I. * If you do, perhaps
you have seen Sand Pint.'

" Sais he, * My friend, I asked you a plain,
civil question ; will you give me a plain, civil
answer ?'

" Thinks I to myself, Commodore, the question
is civil enough, but you ain't civil, and your
manner ain't civil ; but, however, here's at you.
I'U pay you off at last, see if I don't, for you
sent for me ; I didn't come unaxed, and it was
to give, and not ax favors. ' Yes,' sais T, * as
many as you like.' Well, I told him all about
the navigation, and finally advised him not to
try to go through without a stiff breeze, with
so large a ship, as the currents were strong, and
the wind when light, always baffling.

"At last, sais I, 'This witness-box of youni,
Commodore, has a plaguey hard floor to it ; 1
don't care if I sit down,' and I jist squatted
down careless, with legs across the breach of a
large gun, so big I could hardly straddle it, a
most onpardonable sin, as I knowed, on board

\S6

THE BAIT BOX.

>■ 4f

of a man-of-war ; but I did it a purpose. Then I
jist sprinkled over the beautiful white deck a little
tobacco-juice, and coolly took out ray jack-knife
and begun to prepare to load my pipe and whittle.
I did this all intentional, to vex him, on account
of his rudeness — for rudeness is a game two
can play at. Oh, Jerusalm ! if you had a seen
him, how he raved, and stamped, and swore,
when he seed I was so juicy ! and the more he
stormed, the more the officers on the other side
of the deck sniggered in their sleeves; for some
how another, in big ships or little ones, men
like to see the skipper rubbed up agin the grain,
when they ain't like to catch it themselves. Where-
ever there is authority j there is a natural
inclination to disobedience.

" * Don't you know better than that. Sir ?'
said he. ' Have you no decency about you ?'

" ' Do you swaller when you chaw ?' sais I, lookin'
innocent. * Some folks do, 1 know ; but I never
could for the life of me. It goes agin the grain,
and I consait hurts the Jigestion.' Oh, what a
face he made ! how he wagged his head, and
shut his mouth and his eyes close to ! He
looked like a landsman jist agoin' to be sea-sick,
and he gave a kind of shudder all over his
frame. . . .-, - . /^r ..

THE BAIT BOX.

187

" * You may go, Sir,' said he.

" ' Thank you,' sais I ; 'I suppose I needn't
ask leave for that. Capting,' sais I, still keepin'
my seat on the gun, * you want a bait-box.'

" * A spittle-box, you mean,' said he.

" ' No I don't,' sais I. * I have been too long
afloat not to know the meanin' of sea-terms. You
want a bait-box.'

" He was fairly puzzled. First he looked at
the leftenant, and then at me, and then he looked
as if he had better drop further talk ; but his
curiosity got the better of him.

" ' A bait-box,' said he ; * I don't understand
you.'

" * Well,' sais I, * I invented a bait-box for
cuttin' up bait small and fine, for enticin' fish,'
and I explained it as short as words could make
it, for fear he'd cut stick and leave me alone
talkin' there. ' Now,' sais. I, ' that invention,
beautiful and simple as it is, cost me great

• thought and much tobacky,' said I, lookin' inno-

* cent again ; * but it occupied my mind at leisure
r hours for two seasons, and that's a great thing.

Now, invent a bait-box, or a new capstan, or an
improved windlass, or something or another of
that kind; it will keep you busy, and what's
better, good-natured, and you won't rave when a

188

THE BAIT BOX.

gentleman jist spits on a floor that has a thousand
men to clean it.

" * Now,' sais I, a risin', puttin' \ip my knife
and tohacky, * Capting, depend upon it, you want
a bait-box. And, Commodore, let me tell you,
you sent for the right man to get information.
I am Commodore of this everlastin' splendid
American fishing-fleet, of more than two hundred
fore-and-afters. A fleet the world can't ditto for
beauty, speed, and equipments. They call me
Old Blowhard. If you ever do me the honor
to visit my flag-ship, I will prove to you an old
Commodore knows how to receive a young one.
There is a cabin in my vessel, small as she is,
and chairs in it, and a bottle' of the best wine
for the like of you, and old Jamaiky for them
that has sense to prefar it, and that's more than
there is in this seventy-four, big as she is, as
far as I can see. Oh, invent a bait-box ! it will
improve your temper, and that will improve
your manners, depend upon it. I wish you good

mornin'.'

■(

"I then went on board, and hoisted a Com-
modore's flag, and my men — eighteen in number
— saluted it with three cheers as it went up,
and every other of our vessels becalmed there,
seeing somethin' was goin' on above common,

THE BAIT BOX.

189

took up the cheer, and returned it with a will that
made the shores echo again.

" But here we are almost alongside of the
'Nantasket.' I will introduce you to Capting
Oby Furlong ; he will be a character for you, and
if you ever writ(5 a book again, don't forgit Old
Sarsiparilly Pills."

.i-^^

190

THE WATER GLASS ;

CHAPTER X.

THE WATER-GLASS ; OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

As the men rowed us towards the ' Nantasket,'
the Captin and I couldn't very well talk afore 'em
on the subjects we wanted to speak of, so we held
a sort of Quaker's meetin', and said nothin'. I
pulled the peak of my cap over my eyes, for the
sun dazzled me, and afore I knowed where I was,
I was off into one of my day-dreams, that I some-
times indulge in. I was musin' on what a strange
thing life is, what a curious feller man is, and
what a phantom we pursue all the time, thinkin*
it points the way to happiness, instead of enticin'
us into swamps, quagmires, and lagoons. Like
most day-dreams it warn't very coherent, for one
thought leads to another, and that has an affinity

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

191

to something else ; and so at last the thread of it,
if it don't get tangled, aint very straight, that's a
fact. I shall put it down as if I was a talkin' to*
you about cverythin' in general, and nothin' in
particular.

Sais I to myself, the world has many nations
on the face of it, I reckon, but there aint but four
classes among them : fools and knaves, saints and
sinners. Fools and sinners form the bulk of man-
kind ; rogues are numerous everywhere, while
saints — real salts — are few in number, fewer, if
you could look into their hearts, than folks think.
I was once in Prospect Harbour, near Halifax,
shortly arter a Boston packet had been wracked
there. All that could float had been picked up, or
washed away ; but the heavy things sank to the
bottom, and these in a general way were valuable.
I saw a man in a boat with a great long tube in
his hands, which he put down into the sea every
now and then, and looked through, and then
moved on and took another observation.

It was near about dinner-time, so I thought
I'd just wait, as I had nothin' above particular to
do, and see what this thing was; so when the
man came on shore, " Mornin' to you," sais I.
" That was an awful wreck that, warn't it ?" and
1 looked as dismal as if I had lost somethin' there

192

THE WATER GLASS J

myself. But there was nothin' very awful about
it, for everybody was saved ; and if there was
some bales and boxes lo-t. why in a general way
it's good for trade. Bur I said awful wrack, for
I've obsarved you have to cant a little with the
world, if you want even common civil usage.

In fact, in calamities I never knew but one man
speak the truth. He lived near a large range of
barracks that was burnt, together with all the
houses around him, but he escaped ; and his
house was insunid. Well, he mourned dreadful
over his standing house, more than others did
over their fallen ones. He said, " He was ruinated ;
he lived by the barrack expenditure, and the
soldiers were removed, and the barracks were
never to be rebuilt ; and as he was insured, he'd a
been a happy man, if his house had been burnt,
and he had recovered the amount of his loss."

Now that man I always respected; he was an
honest man. Other folks would have pretended
to be thankful for so narrow an escape, but
thought in their hearts just as he did, only they
wouldn't be manly enough to say so. But to get
back to my story.

" Awful wrack that !" said I, dolefully.

" Well, it was considerable, but it might have
been wuss," said he, quite composed.

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

193

1 about
ire was
iral way
ack, for
^ith the

»ne man
ange of
all the
and his
dreadful
lers did
ainated ;
md the
cs were
, he'd a
1 burnt,

jS.

was an
etended
pe, but
iy they
to get

it have

Ah ! sais I to mvsclf, I sec how it is, vou haint
lost anything, that's clear, but you arc lookin' for
somcthin'.

" Sarching for gold ?" said I, laughin', and
goin' on t'other tack. " Every vessel, they say, is
loaded with gold now-a-days ?"

"Well," sais he, smiling, "I aint sarching for
gold, for it aint so plenty on this coast ; but I am
sarching for zinc : there arc several rolls of it
there."

" What was that curious tube," sais I, " if 1
might be so bold as to ax ?"

" Sartain," sais he, " it's a water-glass. The
bottom of that tube has a large plate of glass in it.
When you insert the tube into the sea, and look
down into it, you can perceive the bottom much
plainer than you can with a naked eye."

" Good !" sais I ; " now that's a wrinkle on my
horn. I daresav a water-glass is a common thing:,
but I never heard of it afore. Mi":ht it be vour
invention, for it is an excellent one."

He looked up suspicious like.

" Never heard of a water-glass ?" he said,
slowly. " May I ask what your name mought
be?"
t " Sartainly," sais I, " friend ; vou answered me

VOL. L

! I,

194

THE WATER-GLASS;

4 1

i;.

my question civilly, and I will answer yours.
Fm Sam Slick, sais I, at least what's left of

me.

" Sam Slick, the Clockmaker ?" sais he.

" The same," said I, " And never heard of a
water-glass ?"

" Never ! Mr. Slick," said he, " I'm not so
simple as you take me to be. You can't come
over me that way, but you are welcome to that
rise, anyhow. I wish you good mornin'."

Now that's human natur' all over. A man is
never astonished or ashamed that he don't know
\ what another does ; hut he is surprised at the gross
\ ignorance of the other in not knowin' what he
I does. But to return. If instead of the water-
glass (which I vow to man I never heard of before
that day), if we had a breast-glass to look into the
heart, and read what is wrote, and seo what
is passin' there, a great part of the saints— them
that don't know music or paintin', and call it a
waste of precious time, and can't dance, and call it
wicked, and won't go to parties, because they are
so stupid no one will talk to them, and call it
sinful — a great lot of the saints would pass over
to the sinners. Well, the s'nners must be added
to the fools, and it swells their numbers up con-

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

195

^ours.
;ft of

of il

lot so
; come
that

nnn is
know

e gross

hat he
water-
before
to the
what
them
.11 it a
call it
ley are
call it

Iss over
added
Ip con-

siderable, for a feller must be a fool to be a
sinner at all, seein' that the way of the trans-
gresscrs is hard.

Of the little band of racl salts of saints, a
considerable some must be added to the fools'
ranks too, for it aint every pious man that's wise,
though he may have sense enough to be good.
Arter this deduction, the census of them that's left
will show a small table, that's a fact. When the
devoted city was to be destroyed, Abraham begged
it off for fifty righteous men. And then for forty-
five, and finally for ten ; but arter all, only Lot,
his wife, and two daughters was saved, and that
was more from marcy than their desarts, for they
warnt no great shakes arter all. Yes, the breast-
glass would work wonders, but I don't think it
would be overly safe for a man to invent it ; he'd
find himself, I reckon, some odd night a plaguey
sight nearer the top of a lamp-post, and farther
from the ground than was agroeable ; and wouldn't
the hypocrites pretend to lament him, and say he
was a dreadful loss to mankind ? That being the
state of the case, the great bulk of humans may
be classed as fools and knaves. The last are the
thrashers and sword-fishes, and grampuses and
sharks of the sea of life ; and the other the great
schoal of common fish of different sorts, that seem

196

THE WATER GLASS;

i !

made a-purpose to feed these hungry onmarciful
critters that take 'em in by the dozen at one
swoop, and open their mouths wide, and dart on
for another meal.

Them's the hoys that don't know what dys-
pepsy is. Considerable knowin' in the way of
eatin', too, takin' an appetizer of sardines in the
mornin' afore breakfastin' on macarei, and havin'
lobster sauce with their cod-fish to dinner, and a
barrel of anchovies to disgest a little light supper of
a boat-load of haddock, halibut, and flat fish. Yes,
yes ! the bulk of njankind is knaves and fools ;
religious knaves, political knaves, legal knaves,
quack knaves, trading knaves, and sarvent knaves ;
knaves of all kinds and degrqes, from officers with
gold epaulettes on their shoulders, who sometimes
condescend to relieve (as they call it) a fool of his
money at cards, down to thimble-rigging at a
fair.

The whole continent of America, from one end
of it to the other, is oveniin with political knaves
and quack knaves. They are the greatest pests
we have. One undertakes to improve the con-
stitution of the country, and the other the con-
stitution of the body, and their everlastin* tinkeria'
injures both. How in natur folks can be so taken
in, I doa't know. Of all knaves, I consider them

n ii

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

197

two the most dangerous, for both deal in poisonous
deadly medicines. One pysons people's minds,
and the other their bodies. One unsettles their
heads, and the other their stomachs, and I do
believe in my heart and soul that's the cause we
Yankees look so thin, hollow in the cheeks, narrow
in the chest, and gander-waisted. We boast of
being the happiest people in the world. The
President tells the Congress that lockrum every
year, and every year the Congress sais, " Tho'
there ain't much truth in you, old slippiry-go-easy,
at no time, that's no lie at any rate." Every
young lady sais, " I guess that's a fact." And
every boy that's coaxed a little hair to grow on his
upper lip, puts his arm round his gall's waist, and
sais, " That's as true as rates, we are happy, and
if you would only name the day, we shall be still
happier." Well, this is all fine talk ; but what is
bein' a happy people? Let's see, for hang me
if I think we are a happy people.
■ When I was a boy to night-schocl with my
poor dear old friend, the minister, and arterwards
in life as his companion, he was for everlastingly
oorrectin' me about words that I used wrong, so
one day, having been down to the sale of the
effects of the great Revolutionary General, Zaddoc
Seth, of Holmes' Hole, what does he do but buv

198

THE WATER GLASS ;

I 1.

I<!

iV 1

a Johnson's Dictionary for me in two volumes,
each as big as a clock, and a little grain heavier
than my wooden ones. " Now," sais he, " do
look out words, Sam, so as to know what you are
a-talking about."

One day, I recollect it as well as if it was yes-
terday — and if I loved a man on earth, it wa^j that
man — I told him if I could only go to the Thanks-
giving Ball, I should be quite happy.
" Happy !" ^aid he, " what's that ?" '
" Why happy," sais I, " is — bein' happy, to be

sure.

" Why that's of course," sais he, " a dollar is a
dollar, but that don't inform me what a dollar
represents. I told you you used words half the
time you did'nt understand the meanin' of"

" But I do," sais I ; " happy means being so
glad, your heart is ready to jump out of its jacket
for joy."

" Yes — yes," sais he ; " and I suppose if it never
jumped back again, you would be unhappy for
all the rest of your life. I see you have a very
clear conception of what ' happy' means. Now
look it out ; let us see what the great and good
Dr. Johnson say. "

"He sais it is a state where the desires are
satisfied — lucky — ready." ?

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

199

" Now," said he, " at most, as it applies to you,
if you get leave to go to the hall, and you may go,
for I approhate all innocent amusements for young
people, you would he only lucky ; and in a state
where one desire is satisfied. It appears to me,"
said he, and he put one leg over the other, and
laid his head a little hack, as if he was a-goin' to
lay down the law, " that that eminent man has
omitted another sense in which that word is pro-
perly used — namely, a state of joyfulness — light-
heartedness — merriment, hut we won't stop to
inquire into that. It is great presumption for the
likes of me to attempt to criticise Dr. Johnson."

Poor dear old soul, he was a wiser and a mo-
dester man than ever the old doctor was. Fact is,
old dictionary w^as very fond of playin' first fiddle
wherever he was. Thunderin' long words aint
wisdom, and stoppin' a critter^ s mouth is more
apt to improve his wind than his onderstandin\

•* You may go to the ball," said he ; " and I
hope you may be happy in the last sense I have
given it."

" Thank you. Sir," said I> and off I cuts hot
foot, when he called me back ; I had a great mind
to pretend not to hear him, for I was afraid he was
a-goin' to renig — .

" Sam," said he, and he held out his hand and

200

THE WATER GLASS ;

took mine, and looked very seriously at me ;
" Sam, my son," said he, " now that I have
granted you permission to go, there is one thing I
want you to promise me. I think myself you will
do it without any promise, but I should like to
have your word."

" I will observe any direction you may give me,
Sir," said I.

" Sam," said he, and his face grew so long and
blank, I hardly knew what was a-comin' next,
" Sam," said he, " don't let your heart jump out of
its jacket," and he laid back in his chair, and
laughed like anythin', in fact I could not help
laughin' myself to find it all eend in a joke.

Presently he let go my hand, took both hisn,
and wiped his eyes, for tears of fun were in
'em.

" Minister," sais I, " will you let me just say a
word ?"

" Yes," sais he.

" Well, according to Dr. Johnson's third sense,
that was a happy thought, for it was ' ready. ^ "

" Well, I won't say it warn't," said he ; " and,
Sam, in that sense you are likely to be a happy
man all your life, for you are always ' ready ;' take
care you aint too sharp." \ . .

But to get back, for I go round about some-

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

201

{

times. Tho' Daniel Webster, said I, was like a
good sportin'-dog, if I did beat round the bush,
I always put up the birds. What is a happy people ?
If havin' enough to eat and drink, with rather a
short, just a little mite and mosel too short an
allowance of time to swaller it, is bein' happy
then we arc so beyond all doubt. If livin' in
a free country like Maine, where you are com-
pelled to drink stagnant swamp-water, but can
eat opium like a Chinese, if you choose, is bein'
happy, then we are a happy people.

Just walk thro' the happy streets of our happy
villages, and look at the men — all busy — in a
hurry, thoughtful, anxious, full of business, toilin'
from day dawn to night — look at the women, the
dear critters, a little, just a little care-worn,
time-worn, climate-worn, pretty as angels, but
not quite so merry. Follow them in the even-
ing, and see where them crowds are going to ;
why to hear abolition lectures, while their own
free niggers are starvin', and are taught that
stealin' is easier than workin'. What the plague
have they to do with the affairs of the south ?
Or to hold communion with evil spirits by
means of biology, for the deuce a thing else is
that or mesmeric tricks either ? Or going to
hear a feller rave at a protracted meetin', for the

202

THE WATER GLASS;

twelfth ni^ht, to convince them how happy
th(!y ought to he, as )re than half of them,
at least, arc to he damned to a dead sartainty?
Or hear a mannish, raw-honed-looking old maid,
lecture on the rights of woman ; and call on
them to emancipate themselves from the hondage
imposed on them, of wearing petticoats helow
their knees ? If women are equal to men, why
shouldn't their dress he equal ? What right has a
feller to wear a kilt onlv as far as his knee, and
compel his slave of a wife to wear hern down to
her ankle ? Draw your scissors, galls, in this high
cause ; cut, rip, and tear away, and make short work
of it. Rend your garments, and Heaven will hless
them that's 'In-kneed.' Well, if this is bein'
happy, we are a happy people."

Folks must he more cheerful and light-hearted
than we be to he happy. They must laugh more.
Oh ! I like to hear a good jolly laugh, a regelar
nigger larf — yagh ! yagh ! yagh ! My brother, the
doctor, who has an immense practice among the
ladies, told me a very odd story about this.

Sais he, " Sam, cheerfulness is health, and
health is happiness, as near as two things not
exactly identical, can be alike. I'll tell you the
secret of my practice among the ladies. Cheer-
fulness appears to be the proper remedy, and it

and

not

the

Heer-

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

203

is in most cases. I extort a promise of invio-
lable secrecy from the patient, and secure the door,
for T don't want my prescrijition to h(; known ;
then I bid her take off her shoes, and lie down
on the sofa, and then I tiekle her feet to make
her laugh (for some folks are so stupid, all the
good stories in the world wouldn't make them
laugh), a good, joyous laugh, not too long, for
that is exhaustin', and this rcpc^ated two or
three times a-day, with proper regimen, effects
the cure"

Yes, cheerfulness is health, the opposite, melan-
choly, is disease. I defy any people to be happy,
when they hear nothin' from mornin' till night,
when business over, but politics and pills, repre-
sentatives and lotions.

When I was at Goshen the other day, I asked
Dr. Carrot, how many doctors there were in
the town.

" One and three-quarters," said he, very
gravely.

Well, knowing how doctors quarrel, and under-
value each other in small places, I could hardly
help laughing at the decidedly disparaging way
he spoke of Dr. Parsnip, his rival, especially as
there was something rather new in it.

■ i

\n'

204

THE WATER GLASS ;

" Three-quarters of a medical man !" sais T.
" I suppose you iiiran, your friend hiis not a
regular-built education, and don't deserve the
name of u doctor."

" Oh no ! Sir," said he, " I would not speak
of any practitioner, however ignorant, in that
way. What I mean is just this : Goshen would
maintain two doctors ; but quack medicines,
which are sold at all the shops, take about
three-quarters of the support that would other-
wise be contributed to another mecHcal man."

Good, sais I, to myself. A doctor and three-
quarters ! Come, I won't forget that, and here
it is.

Happy ! If Dr. Johnson is right, than I am
right. He says happiness means a state where
all our d(^sires are satisfied. Well now, none of
our desires are satisfied. We are told the affiiirs
of the nation are badly managed, and I believe
they be, politicians have mainly done that.
We are told our insides are wrong, and I believe
they be ; quack doctors and their medicines have
mainly done that. Happy ! How the plague
can we be happy, with our heads unsettled by
politics, and our stomachs by medicines. It
can't be; it aint in natur', it's onpossible. If

OR, A DAY-DREAM OF LIFE.

205

I was wrong, as a boy, in my ideas of happiness,
men are only full-grown boys, and are just as
wrong as I was.

1 ask again what is happiness? It aint bcin'
idle, that's a fact — no idle man or woman ever was
happy, sine(! tho world began. Ev(! was idle, and
that's th(! way she got tempted, poor critter;
employment gives botli ap])etite and digestion.
Dutij makes pleamre doubly sweet hi/ contrast.
When the liarness is off, if th(^ work aint too hard,
a critter likes to kick up his heels. When pleasure
is the busiiiess of life it ceases to be pleasure ;
and when ii\s' all labour and no play, work like
an ontstuffed saddle cuts into the very bone.
Neither labour nor idleness has a road that leads
to happiness, one has no room for the heart and
the other corrupts it. Hard work is the best of
the two, for that has at all events sound sleep —
the other has restless pillows and onrefreshin'
slumbers — one is a misfortune the other is a
curse ; and money aint happiness that's as clear as
mud.

There was a feller to Slickville once called
Dotey Conky, and he sartinly did look dotey like
lumber that aint squared down enough to cut the
sap off. He was always a wishing. I used to call

E ml

I III

206

THE WATER GLASS;

him Wishey Washey Dotey. " 9c:m," he used to
say, " I wish I was rich."

" So do I," I used to say.

" If I had fifty thousand dollars," he said, " I
wouldnt call the President my cousin."

" Well," sais I, " I can do that now poor as I
be ; he is no cousin of mine, and if he was he'd
be no credit, for he is no great shakes. Gentlemen
now don't set up for that office ; they can't live on
it."

" Oh, I don't mean that," he said, " but fifty
thousand dcL'ars, Sam, only think of that ; aint it
a great sum, that; it's all I should ask in this
world of providence, if I had that, I should be
the happiest man that ever was."

" Dotey," sais I, " would it cure you of the
colic ? you know how you sufi^er from that."

" Phoo," sais he.

" Well what would you do with it ?" sais I.

" I would go and travel," sais he, " and get into
society and see the world."

" Would it educate you, Dotey, at your age give
you French and German, Latin and Greek, and
so on ?"

" Hire it, Sam," sais he, touching his nose
with his fore finger.

OR, A DAY-DitiiAM OF LIFE.

207

" And manners," sai.^ I, " could you hire that ?
I will tell you what it would do for you. You
could get drunk every night if you liked, surround
yourself with spongers, horse jockies, and foreign
counts, and go to the devil by rail road instead of
a one horse shav."

Well as luck would have it, he drew a prize
in the lottery at New Orleens of just that sum,
and in nine months he was cleaned out, and sent
to the asylum. It taint cash then that gains it ;
that's as plain as preaching. What is it then that
confers it?

" A rope," said Blowhjird, as w'e reached the
side of the ' Nantasket,' " in with your oars my
men. Now, Mr. Slick, let's take a dose of
Sarsiparilly pills"

208

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

CHAPTER XL

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

' " Come, Mr. Attachy," said Blowhard, as we
mounted the deck of the ' Nantasket,' " let's go
down to Apothecary's Hall ;" and he larfcd agin in
great good humour.

When we entered the cabin, which sartainly
looked more like an herb and medicine shop than
anythin' else, we found the Capting seated at
the table, with a pair of small scales in his hand,
carefully adjustin' the weight of somethin' that
had just been prepared by a boy, who sat in the
corner, and was busy with a pestle and mortar.

" How are you. Doctor ?" said Blowhard, in
his blandest manner. " This is Mr. Slick. We
have come to ask you if you will take a patient

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

209

, as we
et's go
au;in in

sartainly
op than
iated at
hand,
that
t in the
irtar.
ard, in
Ik. We

in'

patient

on board, who wants to return home, and whom*
Providence has just sent you in here to re-
lieve r

" What's the matter with him ?" inquircfl the
quack Captin, with the air of a man who had
but to hear and to cure.

Love explained briefly the state of the case ;
and having obtained his consent, asked me to
request one of the hands to hoist a flag, as the
signal agreed upon for bringing the invalid on
board.

" Proud to see you, Mr. Slick," said the quack
Captin. " Take a chair, and bring yourself to
an anchor. You are welcome on board the
* Nantasket.' "

Instead of an aged man, with a white beard,
large spectacles, and an assumed look of great
experience, as I expected to have seen, from the
nickname of " Old Sarsaparilla Pills," given to
him by the skipper, I was surprised to find he
was not past five-and-thirty years of age. He
was a sort of French graft on a vigorous Yankee
stock. His chin and face were covered with lonsj
black hair, out of which twinkled a pair of bright,
sparkling, restless eyes. His dress and talk was
New England, but French negligence covered all,
and was as onpleasant and as disorderly as the

VOL. L . p

210

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

deck; for the Yankees are a neat people, in a
gineral way, and like to see things snug and tidy.
If, in his appearance, he was half French and half
Yankee, it was plain he was also half knave and
half goney. The only thing I saw to like about
him was, that he 'was a man with a theory ; and
a theory, to my mind, whether in political economy
or in medicine, is the most beautiful thing in the
world.

They say an empty bag can't stand straight.
Well, who the plague cares if it can't, when you
have nothin' to put into it ? for it would only be
in the way, and take up room, if it could. Now,
a theory will stand as straight as a bullrush, with-
out a fact at all. Arguments, probabilities and
lies, will do just as well. But if folks must have
facts, why the only plan is to manufacture 'em.
What's the use of the Crystal Palace, and all
its discoveries, if statesmen can't invent facts?
Sometimes one fact depends on another, and that
on a third, and so on. Well, to make anything
of them, you must reason. Well, what on airth
is the use of reason ? Did you ever see a man
that could reason ? A dog can, but then a dog
has some sense. If he comes to a placa where
four roads meet, he stops and considers, and
weighs all the probabilities of the case, j)ro and

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

211

!, in a
id tidy,
nd half
ive and
e about
ry ; and
sconomy
r in the

straight,
^hen you
I only be
i. Kow,
tsh, with-
\i\QS and
lUst have
■ture 'em.
I, and all
|nt facts?
and that
anything
on airth
;e a man
ten a dog
|ac3 where
ers, and
pro and

con, for each road. At last, he makes up his
miiiu ; goes on confident ; and ninety-nine times
out of a hundred, he is right. But place a man
there, and what would he do ? Why, he'd look
like a ravin', distracted fool: he'd scratch his
head, and say, " I don't know, I declare ; I don't
know, I am sure ;" One only thing the critter is
sure about. And then he'd sit down on a stone,
and wait till some one come by to tell him.

Well, after waitin' there till he is een amost
tired out, the first man that rides by, he'd jump
up so sudden, he'd scare the horse, that shies
awfully, and nearly spills the rider ; and wouldn't
he get more blessings than would last him a whole
whalin' voyage ? Well, the next man that comes
by, drivin' in a gig, he goes more coolly to work
to stop ; when traveller pulls out a pistol, and
sais, " Stand off, you villain ! I am armed, and
will fire !'* Well, the third sets a fierce dog on
him, and asks him what he is a doin' of there ?
And when he inquires the way, he puts his
finger to his nose, and says, " That cat won't
jump, old boy." Well, the next chap that comes
along, is a good-natured feller. He is a whistlin'
a tune, or singing an air, as light-hearted as you
please ; and a hittin' of loose stones with his
cane, as he trips along ; and when he axes him

p 2

i I

hm.u

•fa I i'

iii

212

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

^ —

the way, he shews it to him as perlite as possible,
and says it is the very road he is going, and will
walk abit with him to the next turn, where they
must part.

This world aint so bad after all, as it looks ;

there are some good-natured folks in it, that's a

I fact, that will do a civil thing now and then for

nothin' but the pleasure, but they aint quite as

I thick as blackberries, I can tell you.

Well, at the turn of the road there is an ale-
house, and the good-natured stranger pulls out
some money, like a good Samaritan, and gives
him a drink for nothin'.

" Now," sais he, " friend, suppose you qualify ?"

" Qualify ?" sais the critter, more puzzled than
he was at the four roads. " Qualify ! does that
mean to stand treat? for if it doeth, I don't care
if I doos."

" Come, none of that nonsense, my good feller,"
sais the other, whose air and manner is changed in
a minute, so that he don't look like the same man.
" Come, come, you aint so soft as that you are
listed. Feel in your waistcoat pocket, and there
is her Majesty's shilling."

" Danged if I do," sais this vartuous and rea-

• sonable being, " danged if I do, I'll fight till I die

lust — " when he is knocked down, hears a whistle.

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

213

possible,

and will

lere they

it looks ;
t, that's a
i then for
; quite as

is an ale-
pulls out
and gives

L qualify ?"

zzled than

does that

don't care

Dod feller,"
changed in
same man.
at vou are
and there

IS and rea-
it till 1 die
5 a whistle,

and three mer. come in, iron him to another feller
that didn't know the road any better than him,
and off he is marched to see his officer."

I saw that critter mountin' guard at the
Ordnance Gate, at Halifax, last winter at night,
mercury sixteen below zero, cold enough amost to
freeze the hair off of a dog's back. That's because
he couldn't reason. Little doggy we've seen could
reason and reason well, and was home half an
hour before ' thirteen-pence a-day' was listed, to
have a finger, or a toe, or an ear froze off on duty.
There is no pension for a toe, unless it's the gout
in an old admiral or gincral's toe.

No, reasonin' is no good. That that is good
reasonin' aint marketable, bad reasonin' is like
some factory cloth, half cotton, half old clothes,
carded over agin' at Manchester, and is low-priced,
just fit for fellers that don't know the way, and
get listed under a party leader. That's the case
too with free-traders, they sing out * cheap bread ;'
it don't want reasonin' except cheap reasonin*.
Don't cheap bread cost less than dear bread ? Why
yes, in course it does. Well then, free-trade does
that; don't you wish you may be better of it.
No, reasoning is no good, and facts are no good ;
for they are as cheap as words which only cost a

iit

111

I
I

214

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

halfpenny a hundred, and two farthings change
given back.

I like a theory ; it is a grand thing to work
a farm by when you have no experience, and
govern a nation by when the electors are as wise
as that are recruit, that couldn't e-^n follow his
nose. Captin Furlong had a theory, and hadn't
he as good a right to have one as Peel, or any
other practitioner, either in politics, or medicine,
or farmin', or anythin' else? Why to be sure
he had.

" Mr. Slick," said he, and he put one leg over
the other, threw his head back, and gave me a
sort of fixed stare, just one of those stares you see
a feller now and then put on who shuts to his
ears and open his eyes wide, as much as to say
" now don't interrupt me, for I mean,to have all
the talk to myself." Whenever I see a critter do
that, I am sure to stop him every minute, for I
have no notion of a feller taking me like a lamb,
and tying me hand and foot to offer up as a sacri-
fice to his vanity. " Mr. Slick,' said he, " I have
a theory."

" 'Zactly," said I, " it's just what you ought to
have ; you can no more get on in medicine with-
out a theory to carry out, than a receipt to work

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

215

by. I knowed a chap onct — " but he gave me
the dodge, cut in agin', and led utf.

" I have a theory that for every disease natur'
has provided a remedy, if we could only find it."

" 'Zactly," said I, " let natur' alone, and nine
times out of ten she will eftect a cure ; it's my
theory that more folks die of the doctor than the
disease. I knew a fellow onct — " but he headed
me agin'.

*' Now this remedy is to be found in simj)les,
herbs, barks, vegetables, and so on. The abori-
gines of no country ever were sappers and miners,
Mr. Slick, many of them were so ignorant as not
even to know the use of fire, and therefore the remedy
was never intended to be hid, like mercury and
zinc, and what not, in the beeowels of the earth."

" 'Zactly," said I, " but in the beeowxls of the
patient."

He lifted up his hairy upper lip at that, and
backed it agin his nose, for all the world as
you have seed a horse poke out his head, and
strip his mouth, that was rather proud of his
teeth ; but he went on :

" There is a specific and an antidote for every-
thin' in natur'. "

" 'Zactly," sais I. " Do you know an antidote

K rT'l^Kwv^i^ftMM^iMWli

216

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

for fleas? for I do. It's a plant found in every
sizable sarec garden ; they hate it like pyson. I
never travel without it. When I was in Italy
last, I slept in a double-bedded room with the
Honourable Erastus Cassina, a senator from Alli-
gator Gully to Congress, and the fleas was awful
thiek. So I jist took out of the pocket of my
dressin'-gown four little bags of this * flea-antidote ;'
two I put on the bed, and two under it. Oh !
if there warn't a flight in Egypt that night, it's a
pity ! In a few minutes, Erastus called out :

" ' Sliek ! Slick !' said he, ' are you awake ?'

" ' What in natur' is the matter ?' sais I.

" ' Oh, the fleas ! the fleas !' said he. * Clouds
on 'em are lightin' on my bed, and I shall be
devoured alive. They are wus than alligators,
fo" they do the job for you in two twos ; but
these imps of darkness nibble you up, and take
all night to it. They are so spry, you can't catch
*em, and so small you can't shoot 'em. I do
believe every flea in the house is coming here.'

" ' That's the cane-juice that's in you,' sais I ;
* you are the sweetest man alive — all sugar ; they
are no fools, are fleas.'

" 'Do they bother you?' said he.
No,' sais I, ' I hante one.'

a (

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

217

" ' Then,' siild ho, ' lot mo turn in with you,
friend Slick, tluit's a good fcllor, for I'm in an
awful stato.*

" ' That cat won't jump. Senator,' sais I, ' for
they will foller you here too, for the sake of the
cane-juice. You must drink vinegar and get
sour, and smoke tohacky and pyson them.' Now,
Capting," sais I, " I have an antidote for bugs too
— bettor, simpler, and shorter than any 'potheearys'
ointments. I hold them two critters to be the
pest of the world. The Nova Scotia Indgians
calls fleas walkum-fasts, and bugs walkum-sloivs.
They say floas travel so fast, they can't shake
'em off. I

" Now I have a theory about fleas. I don't
believe one word of history about the Goths,
and Vandals, and Huns. I believe it was an
irruption of fleas that followed the legions back,
and overrun Rome. And my facts are as good
as Gibbon's for a theory any day. I told that
story about the fleas to the Pope, who larfed
ready to kill himself, but kept a scratchin' rather
ondignified all the time. * Mr. Slick,' said he,
* I will give you a thousand dollars for that
receipt,' and he smiled very good-natured; 'for
fleas,' ' said he, have no respect for the Church.'
But our minister to St. James's, who was at

V, r

218

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

Rome at the time on business, told me it would
lower our great nation for an Attached to sell
flea-antidotes and bug-exterminators, and his Holi-
ness and I didn't trade.

" Buc if a man was to travel with that little
simple remedy through Portugal, Spain, France
and Italy, Switzerland and shores of the Mediter-
ranean Sea, where fleas are as big as horse-flies,
he would make the largest fortin ever bagged by
anv one man in this universal world."

" Will you take what the Pope off^ered you,
now ?" said Capting Furlong.

" Oh, oh, old boy !" sais I to myself, " you have
opened your ears, have you. I thought I'd
improve your hearin' for you. Say three," sai"
I, " and the secret and patent is yours.'*

" Can't come it," sais he.

" Then I withdraw the ofl'er, Capting ; if you
want it, you must pay higher. But go on ; you
interest me greatly." I thought I should have
split when I said that, for I hadn't allowed him to
say a word hardly.

"Well," said he, but that story of the fleas
nearly upset him, " everything has its specific and
its antidote. Now my sarsaparilly pills has made
a fortune for old Jacob Worldsend, to whom I
was fool enough to sell the secret for three thou-

■|;

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

219

sand dollars, and it railly is all it's cracked up to
be. But, Mr. Slick, 1 have at last made a dis-
covery that will astonish the world. I have found
a certain and sure cure for the dropsy. It is an
extract of a plant that is common in the woods,
and is applied externally as a lotion, and internally
as pills. 1 have proved it ; I have the affidavits
of monj than fifty people I have cured."

And Ik; smote the table, stroked his beard
down, and smiled as pleased as a feller that's found
a nugget of gold as big as his head, uiid looked at
me with a self-satisfied air, as much as to say,
Mr. Slick, don't you wish you was me ?

Now, thinks I, is the time to cut in. When-
ever a feller is fool enough to stand up in the
stirrups, and you can see daylight atwecn him
and the saddle, that's your chance ; give him a
lift then onder one foot, and he is over in no
time.

" I shouldn't wonder," said I, " if that was a
sartin cure."

" Wonder," said he, " why I know it is."

" 'Zactly," said I ; "I have knowd it this long
time; — long before you ever see this coast."

" What is it ?" said he. " Write the word
dow^n, for partitions have ears."

!'■

':.l|

Jf^

220

OLD SARSAPARILLA. PILLS.

¥ 12 ■*'
H it M

Well, I took the pei., as if I was going to do
as he asked, and then suddenly stopped, and said :

" Yes, and give you my secret. Oh, no I that
won't do ; hut it has a long stalk."

" Exactly," said he.

" And leaves not onlike those of a horse-
chesnut."

" Which gender is it ?" said he, gaspin' for
breath, and openin' of his ugly mug, till it looked
like a hole made in a bear-skin of a sleigh to pass
a strap through.

" Feminine gender," said I.

" The devil 1" said he, and I thought he would
have fainted.

"Mr. Slick," said Blowhard, "I'll back you
agin any man I ever see for a knowledge of things
in gineral, and men and women in particular.
What the deuce don't you know ?"

" Why I'll tell you," sais I, " what I don't
know. I don't know how the plague it is a squid
can swim either end foremost, like a pinkey
steamer, without having eyes in the starn also, or
why it hasn't a bone at all, w^hen a shad is chock
full of 'em. And I can't tell why it can live five
days out of water, when a herring dies slick off at
onct."

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

•221

"Well — well," said Love, "who'd a-thought
you'd have observed such things !"

Furlono* was so astonished at my havinjT: his
dropsy secret, he didn't hear a word of this by-
talk ; but lookin' up, half-scared, he said :

" That's witciicraft."

" Well, it might be," said I, " for two old
women found it out r they actilly didn't look on-
like witches. Old Sal Slaughtery, that lives to
the Falls, on the south branch of the river at
Country Harbour, and keeps a glass of good
whiskey for salmon-fishers, fust told me, and
old Susan, the Indian squaw, was the one that
discovered it."

" That beats the bugs," said the skipper, look-
ing aghast, and drawin' off his chair, as if he
thought old Scratch had some hand in it.

" No," said I, " not the bugs, but the dropsy."

" Phoo !" said he ; "I didn't mean that."

" Don't be afeard of me," said I ; "I scorn a mean
action as I do a nigger. I won't blow you ; part of
the invention is yourn, and that is, reducing it to
pills, for the eld gal only knew of the decoction, and
that is good enough. But you must give Sal fifty
dollars when you take out your patent; it is a
great sum to her, and will fill her heart, and her
whisky-cask too."

222

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

'•' Done," said he. " Now, Mr. Slick, have you
any more medical secrets of natur' ?"

" I have," said I. " I can cure the jaimdice in
a few days, when doctor^ can make no fist of it, any
how they can fix it ; and the remedy is on every
farm, only they don't know it. I can cure in an hour
or two that awful ague in the face, that folks, and
specially women, are subject to ; and can make
bkin grow w^hen it is broken on the shin-bone, and
other awkward places, even in the case of an old
man, that doctors only make wus ; and effect a hun-
dred other cures. But that's neither here nor there,
and I aint a-goin' to set up for a doctor ; I didn't
come to brag, but to larn. That is a great herbal
cure you have got hold of tho' — that's a fact,"
said I. " What are you goin' to call it ?"

" Sure and safe remedy for the dropsy," said
he.

" You won't sell a bottle," sais I. " Simples
will do very well inside (and the simpler they
are the safer they be), but not outside of patent
medicines. Call it 'the Vegitable Anasp.rca
Specific,' an easy, safe, pleasant, and speedy
cure for anasarca, or dropsy in the skin ; the
ascites, or dropsy in the stomach ; the hydrops
pectoris, or dropsy in the breast; and the hydro-
cephalus, or dropsy of the brain. Put the first

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

223

in gold letters on the labels^ the second in green,
the third in pink, and the fourth in blue. You
must have a fine name to please the car, a nice-
looking bottle to please the eye, and somethin'
that is parfumed and smells nice to please the
nose. But everything is in a name.

" When I was to Windsor, Nova Scotia, I met
an old nigger ; which we call a Chesapeak nigger,
one of them Admiral, Sir John Warren, was fool
enough to give Bluenose to support. I was then
about three miles out of the village. ' Well Cato
Cooper,' sais I, * what little church is that standin
there ?'

" ' Dat nigger church, massa,' said he. * Built
a purpose for niggers.'

" * Well I hope you go often ?'

" ' Dat is jist what I do, massa. College students
preach dere, and dere is one ob do most beauti-
fullest preachers 'mong 'em you eber did hear
respond a text. Oh ! he splains it rail handsome.
Nebber was nuffin like it, his sarmon is more nor
half Latin and Greek, it are beautiful to hear,
there aint a nigger in de settlement don't go to
listen to him ; its rail dictionary. He convarted
me. I is a Christian now, since I know all blacks
are to be received into de kitchen ob Heaven.'

i 1

I -J,

rr^

224

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

" Now that nigger is a sample of mankind, big
words look larned, and please them.

" Well, I have a theory about that," said the
quack captain. " Mankind are gullible, that's a fact,
they'll swaller anything amost, if you only know
how to talk 'em into it ; that's the only secret how
to persuade 'em. Mankind lives on promises."

" Well," sais I. " gullible means taking things
down like gulls, and they are awfid hungry birds.
They go screamin about the mud flat of the river
in the basin of Minas, like mad, and swaller a
whole herring one after another without winkin' ;
and now^ and then a clam, shell and all, as fowls
do gravel to help digestion, but cover a herring
over with your nasty stuff, and see if they w^ouldn't
scream loud enough to wake the dead amost. You
must treat men as you would children. Tell them
to shut thoir eyes and open their mouths and take
what you give them, as you do when you play
with the little dears, and as long as it is sweet and
pleasant they will swaller anythin'. Why the
plague do doctors, who live by the sellin' of
medicine, make it so nasty ; no created critter
can git it down without makin' faces that
would scare a horse. The balm of Gilead man.
Doctor Soloman knew this secret, his balm was

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

225

iiothin but a dram, and that's the reason all
the old ladies praised it. But go on," said I, " I,
am afeard I have interrupted you ; you interest me
greatly."

" Well," sais he, " it's very kind of you to say
so, but it strikes me," and he scratched his head,
" I haven't said much to interest any one."

" Oh, yes," sais I, " that theory of yours, that
natur' has a remedy for every thin', is very curious
and original ; go on. Sir."

Well, the goney vas tieh:ied with that touch of
the soft sawder brush. Whenever you see a feller
who can flatter himself into the opinion that a
hairy face is becomin', it aint no difficult thing for
anybody to wheedle him.

" Well," sais he, " I have a theory, that every-
thing that partains to the secret workings of natur'
ought to be invested with mystery. W^omen
especially love mystery. Only tell them there is a
secret, and see how their curiosity wakens up, and
their eyes twinkle. Disguise is the great thing in
medicine. Now the difficulty is, so to disguise
this dropsy cure, that botanists and chemists would
fmd it out."

" 'Zactlv," sais I : for as he sot out detarmined
not to hear, I was detarmined he shouldn't talk

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226

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

long. " 'Zactly," sais I ; " now that's what I
call sense, and a knowledge of human natur'. I
see you warn't born yesterday. Now see how
you're disguised."

" Me !" said he, looking all adrift.

" Yes," sais I ; " you. Who in the world
would take you fo what you be. You are the
master of a mackerel- vessel, with a considerable
knowledge of medicine ; but you look like a French
dragoon officer. If old Buonaparte was to wake
up, he would swear you was Marshal Grouchy, for
you two look as much alike as two peas."

"Well," said the feller, stroking his beard
down, and looking pleased, " my face is in disorder
now, Mr. Slick, but when trimmed it aint without
its effect on the ladies, I do assure you."

" I shouldn't wonder if it had a peeowerful
effect," sais I, "'specially if they was in delicate
health, and came sudden on it."

The consaited goney made me so mad, I had a
great mind to give him chloriform, and shave
him : and I actilly would, too, if I had had a time,
hang me if I wouldn't.

" Yes, yes," sais I, " everybody is in disguise.
Politicians pretend to be patriots; women cover
their designs and their temper with smiles ; hypo-

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

227

crites look pious to cheat you, or are so frank and
manly, look you so friendly in the face straight in
the eyes, and shake hands so warmly with you,
that I defy you not to be took in. Innkeepers are
so glad to see you, it makes you kind of ashamed
of your friend's coldness ; but the moment you
can't pay the bill they kick you right out of the
house. Servants bow and smile, and curtsey and
scrape before you, and go right down stairs, and
say, ' There's no pleasin' that old devil. I'll give
him notice he must quit, if he don't behave
better ;' and then they all larf ready to die at the
joke. Then they mimic your voice, and say to
each other, ' You really must leave the house if
you make such a noise ;' and then they larf louder
than ever, and take a regular game of romps, and
say, ' Who cares ?' I tell you the world is
all in disguise. But go on. Sir, I like to hear
you talk, you interest me greatly. Finish
about your theory.

" Mr. Slick," said he " Have marcy, I knock
under, I holler. I have talked foolish, I do be-
lieve, but I forgot who I was talkin' to, though in a
gineral way that sort of laying down the law does
answer, that's a fact. But tell me, please, how in
the world did you pick up so many medical secrets ?"

" Well, I have promised not to blow you, and I

Q 2

•^mmmmmm

mmm

I !

! I

! •

228

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

hope you won't be offended with me if I do tell
you ?"

" Sartainly not," said he.

" Well," sais I, " excuse me, if you please, but
you like to do all the talkin' yourself, and don't
want to listen to others. Now I open my eyes as
well as my mouth, hear, see, and learn what I can,
as well as talk. You can't be an autocrat in con-
versation, any more than you can in politics.
Other people have rights, and they must be re-
spected."

" Gentlemen," said old Blowhard, who appeared
uncommonly amused at the conversation, " I have
a theory of my own ; will you allow me to put in
my oar ?"

" Sartainly !" we both said.

" Well, then, my theory is, that it is high time
for us to go on board."

Thinks I to myself, I was rather hard on that
chap. I intruded on him, and not he on me. I
was his guest, and he wasn't mine. He was in
his own house, as it were, and had a right to lead
the talk. So I thought I owed him a good turn,
and as I expected the jobation I gave him would
make him ill, I said :

" Captin Furlong, I'll give you my cure for
the jaundice. You will make your fortin out of

OLD SARSAPARILLA PILLS.

229

it, and common as the article is, all the doctors
under heaven will never find your secret out."
And I wrote it out for him (tho' it was a tough
job, for as he leaned over my shoulder, as I was
a-doin* of it, his nasty, coarse, stiff, horse-hair
sort of beard tickled me so, I thought I should
have gone into fits, but 1 got through it and then
shook hands, and bid him good-bye.

»,•>

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230

THE HOUSE

CHAPTER XII.

THE HOUSE THAT HOPE BUILT.

Early the following momin', every vessel in
the fleet got under way with what is called a
soldier's wind, that is, it was fair for those goin'
both east and west. Captain Love not only con-
sented to his mate takin' charge of the * Black
Hawk' instead of the poor deranged skipper, but
pressed him to do so, sayin' :

" I guess I can find where the Cape lies.
Matey, without askin* the way of any one. There
aint much above common for you to do to hum
just now ; so go, my son, and enjoy yourself with
friend Slick. He aint perhaps quite so good-
natured as I be, for I believe I am the best-tem-
pered man in the world, when they let me alone,

♦ ^

THAT HOPE BUILT.

231

and don't rile mc ; but ho is better informed than
me, and will spin you yarns by the hour, about
the Queen of England, whose nobles, they tell me,
cat off of silver dishes with gold forks ; and the
Pope of Rome, where its the fashion to shake
hands with his big toe ; and the King of France,
where it is the custom to fire at him once a week,
and instead of hitting him, kill one of his guards.
Great shots them Frenchmen ! I don't doubt
but that they could hit a barn door, if it was big
enough, at ten yards distance. Slick has been
everywhere amost, and as he travels with his eyes
open, has seen everythin'. I don't suppose his
stories are all just Gospel, but they aint far off the
mark for all that ; more like a chalk sketch of a
coast made on the deck, perhaps, than a printed
chart, not done to measurement, but like enough
to steer by. And then, when you are a-shore, if
you want to see fun, set him to rig a Bluenose,
as he did old Sarseperilly Pills yesterday, till he
hollered and called for mercy, and it will make you
split. Come, that's settled now, sposen we have
a glass of grog at partin'. Mr. Slick, here is your
good health, and the same to you, Matey, and a
pleasant voyage to you both. You will return,
Matey, by the supply vessel, and its captin and
you will change places ; and, Mr. Slick," said he,

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232

THE HOUSE

" I forji^ot to tell you, friend Cutler can give you
all till! intbrnnation you want about the fisheries.
He knows the history and habits of the fish, their
feedin' grounds, and the mode of takin' and curin*
of them."

When we got in the boat to leave the ' Bald
Eagle,' the sailors, to testify their regard for their
old officer, gave three cheers, a compliment that
was returned when we reached our vessel, with a
hearty good will. It was a splendid sight to sec
this fleet of thirtv-six sail of fishin'-craft that now
got under way, all of them beautiful models,
neatly and uniformly painted, well-rigged, and
their white cotton canvas sails cut, so as to lay
up to the wind like a board, and the whole skim-
min' over the water as light as sea-gulls. When
we consider this was only an accidental meetin' of
some scattered outward and homeward bound
vessels, and was merely a specimen of what was
to be seen from this to the Gulf of St. Lawrence,
I actilly do think, without any crackin' or boastin'
on the subject, that we have great reason to be
proud of our splendid mackerel fleet.

As the ' Bald Eagle ' left her anchorage, Cutler
said, with a smile :

" Do you hear, my dear old friend, the most
good-natured man in the world, how he is storm-

THAT HOPE BUII-T.

233

I'e vou

slujrit's.
li, their
\ curin'

c ' Bald
)r their
nt that
with a
t to see
bat now
models,
id, and
i to lay
skim-
When
etin' of
bound
lat was
-wrence,
3oastin'
to be

Cutler

e most
storm-

in'? This is one of the exroptions he himself
makes — lie is riled now. l\)()r old Blovvhard !
If you are not the best teinpenul, as you so often
boast, vou certainly are the kindest-hearted man
in the world, and no one knows it better and
appreeiates it more higldy than I do."

In the meantime, instead of goinj^ with either
portion of the fleet, we sailed past M'Nutt's
Island into the entrance of the magnificent harbour
of Shelburn, the largest, the best, the safest, and
the most beautiful on the whole Am(;rican coast,
from Labrador to Mexico, where v^e came to
anchor. Takin' two hands in the boat, I steered
to the point of land that forms the southern
entrance, and crossin' the little promontory,
proceeded to search for Mr. Eldad Nickcrson,
whom I intended to hire as pilot and assistant to
the coward mate in his land trade, and as a hand in
the place of Mr. Enoch Eels, for I knew him to
be a trustworthy, intelligent, excellent man. Near
the first house on the way, I met a smart, active-
looking boy of about thirteen years of age.

" Whose house is that, boy ?"

((

Ourn, Sir."
Who lives there ?"
Feeather, Peter Potter, Sir,
Is he at home ?'*

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234

THE HOUSE

" Yes."

" Do you know Mr. Eldad Nickerson ?"

" Yes."

"Is he at hum V"

" Yes, I sav him just now cross the fields to
his house."

*' Well, do yr>u run after him as fast as your
legs can carry you, and tell him that Mr. Slick is
at Squire Peter Potter's a-waitin' for him."

" Feather ''eant a squire. Sir," said the boy.

"Well, he ought to be then. Tell him Mr.
Slick wants to see him down to the squire's."

" I tell you Peter Potter beant a squire, Sir."

" And I tell you he ought to be a squire, then,
and I'll just go in and see about it."

" Well, I wish you would, Sir," said the boy,
" for some how feeather thinks Lm aint kind of
been well used "

" Tell Mr. Nickerson," said I " to come at once ;
and now run as if old Scratch kicked you on eend,
and when you come back I will give you half-a-
dollar." .

The boy darted off like an arrow from a bow ;
half-a-doUar certain, and the prospect of a scat
in the quarter sessions for his fee-Mer were
great temptations; the critter was chock fiill of
hope. Boys are like men, and men are like boys,

THAT HOPE BUILT.

235

and galls and women are both alike, too ; they live
on hope — false hopes- -hopes without any airthly
foundation in natur but their own foolish consaits.
Hope ! what is hope ? expcctin' some unsertin
thing or another to happen. Well, sposen it dont
happen, why then there is a nice little crop of dis-
appointment to disgest, that's all. What's the
use of hopen at all then ? I never could see any
use under the sun in it. That word ought to be
struck out of every dictionary. I'll t(;ll Webster
so, when he getL out a new edition of hisn. Love
is painted like a little angel, with wings, and a bow
and arrow, called Cupid — the name of mother's
lap-dog. Many's the one I've painted on clocks,
little, chubby-cheeked, onmeanen, fat, lubberly,
critters. I suppose it typifies that love is a fool.
Yes, and how he does fool folks, too. Boys and
galls fall in love. The boy is all attention and
devotion, and the gall is all smiles, and airs, and
graces, and pretty little winnin' ways, and they
bill and coo, and get married because they hope.

Well, what do they hope ? Oh, they hope they
will love all the days of their lives, and they hope
their lives will be ever so long just to love each
other ; its such a sweet thing to love. Well, they
hope a great deal more I guess. The boy hopes
arter he's maiTied his wife will smile as sweet

;

236

THE HOUSE

ever and twice as often, and be just as neat and
twice as neater, her hair lookin like part of the
head, so tight, and bright, and glossy, and parted
on the top like a little path in the forest. A path
is a sweet little thing, for it seems made a purpose
for courtin, it is so lonely and retired. Natur
teaches its use, he says, for the breeze as it whispers
kisses the leaves, and helps the flowering shrubs to
bend down and kiss the clear little stream that
waits in an eddy for it afore it moves on^

Poor fellow, he aint spoony at all. Is he ? And
he hopes that her temper will be as gentle and as
meek and as mild as ever ; in fact, no temper at
all — all amiability — an angel in petticoats. Well,
she hopes every minute he has to spare he will fly
to her on the wings of love — legs aint fast enough,
and runnin might hurt his lungs, but fly to her —
and never leave her, but bill and coo for ever, and
will let her M'ill be his law ; sartainly wont want
her to wait on him, but for him to tend on her,
the de\oted critter like a heavenly ministreing
white he-nigger.

Well, don't they hope they may get all this ?

And do they ? Jist go into any house you
like, and the last two that talks is these has been
lovers. They have said their say, and are tired
talking ; they have kissed their kiss, and an onion

THAT HOPE BUILT.

237

■ you

beea

tired

onion

has spiled it; they have strolled their stroll, for
the dew is on the grass all day now. His dress is
ontidy, and he smokes a short black pipe, (he
didn't even smoke a cigar before He was married),
and the ashes get on his waistcoat ; but who
cares? it's only his wife to see it — and he kinder
guesses he sees wrinkles, whore he never saw 'em
afore, on her stocking ancles ; and her shoes are
a little, just a little, down to heel ; and she comes
down to breakfast, with her hair and dress lookin'
as if it was a little more neater, it would be a
little more better.

He sits up late with old friends, and he lets
her go to bed alone; and she cries, the little
angel ! but it's only becLUse she has a headache.
The heart — oh ! there's nothing wrong there —
hnt she is lately troubled with shockin' bad
nervous headaches, and can't think what in the
world is the cause. The dashing young gcnitle-
man has got awful stingy too, lately. He sais
housekeepin' cost.- too much, rips out an ugly
word every now and then, she never heerd afore ;
but she hopes — what does the poor dupe hope?
Why, she hopes he aint swearin ; but it sounds
amazin' like it — that's a fact. What is that ugly
word "dam," that he uses so often lately? and
she looks it out iu the dictionary, and she finds

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238

THE HOUSE

" dam" means the " mother of a colt." Well, she
hopes to be a mother herself, sonie day, poor
critter! So her hope has ended in her findin'
a mare's nest at last.

More things than that puzzle her poor little
head. What does he see to be for everlastinly
a praisin' that ugly virago of a worr.-n, Mrs.
Glass — callin' her such an excellent housekeeper
and capital manager ; and when asked if she
understands music, sayin' she knows somethin'
much better than that.

"What, dear?"

" Oh ! never mind."

" But I insist ;" {insist is the first strong word :
take care, you little dear, or it will soon be one of
the weakest. Mind your stops, dear; it sends
a husband off like a hair-trigger gun) ; " but
I insist."

" What, insist ! Well, come, I hke that
amazingly."

" I mean I should like to know, dear ;" (Ah !
that's right, my sweet friend, for I do love the
little critters ; for it's bad trainin' and bad hand-
lin' arterwards, by bad masters, that so often
spiles them. That's right ; lower your tone,
dear ; you'll have occasion to raise it high enough,
some of these days, perhaps) ; " I should like to

THAT HOPE BUILT.

239

know, dear, what she knows better than that ?
You used to say you was so fond of music, and
stand by the piano, and turn over the leaves;
and be so angry if anybody talked when I
sang, and said I could have made a fortin on
the stage. Tell me what she knows better, dear?
Is it paintin ? You used to be so fond and so
proud of my painting. Tell me, dear, what
does she know better?"

That little touchin and nateral appeal about
the music and paintin saved her that time.
She got put oif with a kiss, which she didn't
hardly hope for, and that made it doubly sweet.
What people hope for, they think at last
they have a right to, and when they are dis-
appointed, they actilly think they are ill-used ;
but unexpected luck makes the heart dance, and
it saved her from hearin' what she did arter-
wards, for the unfeelin' rascal was agoin to tell
her that what Mrs. Glass knew, that was better,
was how to make a puddin'. Well, the child
hope painted was to be a blessin', not a little
angel, that aint good enough ; but a chenibim
or seraphim at least. Well, it did resemble them
in one respect, for " they continually do cry."
What a torment it was. Teethin', hoopin'-cough,
measles, scarlatina, the hives, the snufles, .the

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240

THE HOUSE

croup, the influenza, and the Lord-knows what,
all came to pay their respects to it. Just as fast
as one plague of Egypt went, another came.

Well, if the nursery told 'em how foolish it
was to hope, the world told 'em in rougher
language the same thing at a time when the
temper was too sour to bear it. The pretty
boys, what are they ? Pretty birds ! Enough to
break their parents' hearts, if they was as hard
as flints. And their galls, their sweet galls,
that had nursery-governesses, and fashionable
boarden-schools, and music masters, and French
masters, and JEyetalian masters, and German
masters (for German is worth both French
and Eyetnlmn put together ; it will take you
from Antwerp to Russia, and from the Medi
terranean to the Baltic) and every other master,
and mistress, and professor, and lecturer worth
bavin' ; and have been brought out into com-
pany according to mle — (I never liked that
regular- built bringin' out of galls; its too busi-
ness-like, too much like showin' a filly's paces
at a fair, like hangin' a piece of goods out of
the window — if you fancy the article, and will give
the price, I guess it's likely we'l come to tarms,
for she is on hand, and to be disposed of) —
well, arter all this hope of dear Minna, and

THAT HOPE BUILT.

241

Brenda, and Ulla. and Nina : what did hope do,
the villain? Why he looked into the drawin'-
room, where they were all ready to receive com-
pany, with mamma (that dear little mamma, that
it seems as if she was only married the other
day, so slight, so sweet, so fairy-like, and so
handsome. I don't wonder " Huhbv," as she
called her husband, fell in love with her; but
now a great, fat, coarse, blowsy, cross woman,
that I wouldn't swear didn't paint, and, don't
mention it — yes! drink her Cologne water too).
Well, hope peeped in at the winder, and looked
at those accomplished young ladies, with beau-
tiful foreign and romantic names, and screamed
like a loon at the sight of a gun. He vowed,
they nearly scared him to death ; for they were
as ugly as old Satan's eldest daughter, her they
call Deadly Nightshade.

Hope is a slippery gentleman, and has cheated
more fools than ever love did, for many people
pretend to love that don't. Many a feller,
while he was a kissen of a gall, and had one
arm round her waist, slipped the other into
her pockets to feel what was there, and
many a woman has inquired (no that aint fair,
I swow, I won't say that, I ought to be

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242

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¥:

kicked if I did ); but there is many a gall
whose friends inquire, not into a man's cha-
racter, but into his balance at his bankers, and if
that aint good, into his family interest, for " friends
are better than money," and fish that won't take
a worm, will jump clean stark naked out of the
water at red hackle.

But love is neither here nor there ; the rael
neat article, like rael best Varginy backey, is a
scarce thing ; it's either very coarse, or a counter-
feit, something you wouldn't touch with a pair of
tongs, or something that is all varnish, venear, and
glue. The moment it is heated it warps, and then
falls to pieces. Love is a pickpocket — hope is a
forger. Love robs a gall and desarts her, and the
sooner she is rid of him the better, for she is
young, and the world is left to her, at any rate.
Hope coaxes her to hoard up for the future, and
she listens to the villain, and places her happiness
in years to come ; and when that long future
arrives (a pretty short story arter all, for it so
soon comes), and she goes to draw on this accu-
mulated fund, the devil a cent is there ; hope has
drawd it all out, and gone to California. ■'-.

Love and hope are both rascals. I don't pity
any folks that is cheated by hope, it sarves them

I /

THAT HOPE BUILT.

243

right, for all natur is agin hop(\ " Good and evil
seldom come where they are expected." We
hante no right to rely on anybody but on Provi-
dence and ourselves. Middle men, or agents in
a general way, are evil spirits, but hope is the
devil.

I do pity a feminine tho', that is cheated by
love, for by listenin' to the insinivations of the
accomplished rascal, she don't know that the
voice of natur' is in his favour, tho' he docs. But
I don't pity a he crittur at all. His strength,
vanity, and want of principle, will carry him
through any thin'. The spur won't hurt where
the hide is thick. I don't go agin love, it's only
Cupid's love, boy love, calf love, and Cupid
ought to be sarved like a calf. With us we veal a
calf at four weeks, in England they keep him three
months; but Cupid, like the calves, ought to
have his throat cut at one age or the other.

Man's love and woman's love is a sensible
thing, and a natural thing, and I approbate it,
provided it is founded on — but I aint a goin' to
preach. Day and night are given to work, to
glorify, to jollify, and sleep. What right have we
to take this day's happiness, bottle it up, and put
it away for ten years, and say, " We will then

R 2

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244

THE HOUSE

havo a splondcriferous sprco, uncork it, and get
riproariuus with delight ? T iko your daily bread,
and be thankful ; but don't pray to the Lord to
lay up for you the loaves for years to come to make
you rich. Many a man has died about the time
his great baking of bread came out of his
oven.

Love, like the small-pox, comes in the nateral
way, and you can't help it ; but hope is different ;
all (experience is agin it ; and yet, like sin, every
one indulges in it, privately or publicly. Look
at that boy, now ; he hopes I am goin' to make
his father a squire or justice of the peace. I
haven't the power, and don't know ar. I would
if I could. But, tarnation! I never sad I would.
All 1 did say was, he ought to be. Well, so
he ought, if he was worth a farthin'. On that
little compliment he has framed, raised, boarded
in and shingled up a considerable buildin' of hope.
And don't everybody do the same ? Why to be
sure they do. " When my Uncle Sam dies," sais
my nephew, Sam Munroe, " I shall get all his
money."

He is quite sure of it ; his hope is so strong,
and so is his mother's and father's too. They all
hope as hard as they can. Well, I intend to

THAT HOPE BUILT.

245

marry soon, and I guess I don't hope, for /
ain't such a fool ; but I guess I may have a little
Sam Slick of my own, and then where is all
tiieir hopes ? Gone to the four winds and all
their pints, includin' Ot/yander the black cook's
favourite one — west and by east, half south.
Then new hopes spring up ; Uncle Sam will get
me a situation under government, for he knows
everybody amost. And Uncle Sam guesses lie
may ; but as it don't depend on him altogether,
and it is as like as not he might fail, all he sais is
he'll try ; but in the meantime, don't depend on it ;
work as if you never thouglit of it. You can't
live on hope, and hope deferred makes tlie heart
sick.

Well, the critter don't look pleased at that
answer — that sensible answer — that answer that is
accordin' to the natur of things and the workings
of Providence, and he is huffy, slams his hat on,
sticks his lips out and bangs the door arter him
as he struts off, and his father is sulky, and his
mother looks down in the mouth. They hoped
better things of Uncle Sam. He ain't got no
nateral affection ; he has travelled about the world
so much, he don't care for no one now. Single
^ men get selfish ; but still they hopCy because they

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246

THE HOUSE

intend to teazc mc into it. So they at it again.
They hope to wheedle me too, if teazin' won't
iinswer.

" Oh, Sam !" sais sister Sail, and railly there
is no resistin' of her when she gets at you, she
has such winnin' ways ahout her, and smiles so
sweet, and looks to my mind handsomer than
when she was a gall. Well, she watches her
chance — for hope keeps her wide awake — and when
she sees me dressed up for a party, in my best
London and Paris dress, she takes hold of my
whisker, and gives it a little better curl and set
with her finger. *' Sam," sais she, " how well
you do look ! I wouldn't go out to this party,
only I feel so proud of you, and I do like to see
folks look up to you so. Your last visit to Europe
did a great deal for you; it improved you so
much."

" Do you think so ?" sais I.

•* Think !" sais she, a tossin* up of her pretty
little head, and a shakin' of her beautiful curls
and ringlets, and a kissin' of me. " I don't think
about it at all, I know it, and it's generally allowed
to be so, it has made you quite a man of the
world, it has rubbed off all rusticity, or what
Cooper calls provincial look.'* N <

THAT HOPE nUILT.

247

" Oh ! ho !" sais I to myself, " I sec how the
cat jumps, there is a gold chain, or a bracelet, or a
cameo, or somethin' or another wanted. Well I'll
play her off a little while and she shall have it,
tht; dear little critter, and welcome. Oh ! Lord, a
man of the world ! Sally," sais I, " Sally," pre-
tending to look all taken aback, " I'm sorry to
hear that."

" Why dear ?" sais she.

" Because, Sally, a man of the world has no
heart, and I begin to think mine aint so big or
so soft as it used to be."

" How can you say so, Sam ?" sais she, and
then comes another kiss.

" Better so, Sally dear," sais I. " If I was as
soft as I onct was, when I was always in love
with every gall I romped with, (and I never see
one that I didn't make right after), perhaps I'd go
strait off, marry in haste and repent at leisure."

Well, that word marry always sot her a swol-
lerin' her breath, as folks do to keep down the
hickups. Sally railly does love me, and no
mistake ; but somehow or somehow else, it strikes
me it would take her a good while to like my
wife (though she will have to try some day), for
that would knock her hopes all to squash.

248

THE HOUSE

iit-

" Marry I" sais she ; " why I'm sure there aint
anyone half good enough for you here, Sam, so
you needn't be afcard of fallin' in love to-night ;
but 1 wasn't thinkin' of the galls," said she,
a-coloiH'in' up out of consciousness. " I was
thinkin' of the men."

Some how or another, natur don't seem to
approbate anything that aint the clear grit. The
moment a lady goes to conceal an artifice, if,
instead of hiding it with her petticoats, she covers
it with blushes, " Guilt'^ !" sais you at once. " There
is the marks of blood in your face."

*' So you warn't thinkin' of the galls, eh, Sally ?
How like a woman that was !"

" Sam," sais she, a-colourin' up again most
beautiful, " do behave yourself. I thought you
was improved, but now I don't see you are a bit
altered. But, as I was a sayin', the men all look
up so to you. They respect you so much, and
are kind of proud of you — they'd do anything for
you. Now, Amos Kendle is to be there to-night,
one of the Secretaries of State. Couldn't you
speak to him about Sam ? He'd provide for him
in a minute. It's amost a grand chance ; a word
from you would do the business at onct — he
won't refuse you.^'

' if

THAT HOPE BUILT.

249

Well, it aint easy to say no to a woman, espe-
cially if that woman is a sister, and you love that
sister as I do Sally. But sometimes they must
listen to reason (though hope don't know such a
tarm as that), and hear sense (though hope says
that's heathen Greek) ao, I have to let her down
easy.

" Sally dear," sais I, a-takin' of her hand,
" Amos is a democrat, and I am a Whig, and
they mix about as easy as ilc and water ; and the
democrats are at the top of the ladder now ; and
in this great nation each party takes all the patro-
nage for its own side. It's a thing just onpossible,
dear. Wait until the Whigs come in, and then
ril see what I can do. But, Sally, / don't appro-
hate offices for young men. Let them aim their
own grub, and not eat the bread of the State. It
aint half so sweet, nor half so much to be de-
pended on. Poor Sally !" thinks I, " hope will be
the death of you yet," for she said, in a faint
voice :

" Well, Sam, vou know best. I trust all to
you ; my hope is in you," and she sot down, and
looked awful pale, held a smellin '-bottle to her
nose, and I thought she would have fainted.

Well, to make a long story short, one fine day

' I

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250

THE HOUSE

lli

in flies Sally to my room, all life, animation and

joy-

" Oh ! Sam," sais she, " I have great news for

you."

*' Has the blood-marc got a colt ?" sais I.

" Ho !" sais she ; " how stupid you are !"

" Has the Berkshire pig arrived from Eng-
land?"

I knew in course what was comin', but I just
did it to tease her.

" No, Sam," said she, a-throwin' her arms
round my neck, a-laughin', kissin', and cryin', half-
distracted all at the same time, " no, Sam, the
Whigs have carrried their man for President.
Now's the time for Sam ! you'll get an office for
him ; won't you, dear?"

" I'll try, dear. Pack up my things, and I'll
start for Washington to-night ; but, Sally, dear,
some how I don't think I can do much for Sam ;
he aint known in politics, and its party men,
active men, and influential men that gets plajes.
I might obtain a foreign appointment for mysel , if
I wanted it."

" Oh ! of course you could if you wanted it,"
' she replied, " for you'd try then."

There is no kcepin' off a womiU, if coaxin'

THAT HOPE BUILT.

251

won't do ; they give you a sly touch on the raw ;
but I takes that poke, and goes on.

" Because they aint always confined to party ;
but as for a boy like Sam, I don't know, but I'll

trv."

Well, what, sais President, " Collector of
Customs at New Port, Rhode Island? Why
Mr. Slick, it's worth three thousand dollars a-

vear

»>

" Exactly ; that's the reason I asked for it."

" It's onpossible. Sir."

" Well, Cape Cod ? Let me see two thousand
five hundred dollars."

" Too large, Sir, the party will never consent to
it for an unknown boy ; and even you, Mr. Slick
though one of us, don't mix in politics ; but stop,
I'll see what I can do," and he turns over a large
book of places, names, and salaries ; at last he
sais : " Here's a vacancy that nobody has asked
for. I'll make him United States' Consul for
Turks Island, in the West Indie > ; it's worth three
thousand dollars a-year, if he don't object to the
yaller-fever," he said, laughin', " the ophthalmia,
the absence of whites, and the presence of too
many blacks, and can do without fresh provisions ;
it's a good office, for I defy him to spend his

-m

9^2

THE HOUSE

id he

add to it by trade. I

income,

sorry I have nothin' better to offer him ; but if
you, Mr. Slick, would like a diplomatic station, I
shall be happy to nominate you to the Senate for
other considerations weigh there as well as party.
Washington Irving goes to Spain, which he has
illustrated. You are favourabiy known as attache
to our embassy to St. Jimes' ; if you would like
any part of the Mediterranean, or the north of
Europe why — "

" Thank you. Sir," sais I, " I prefer pri-
vate to public life, and will let you know the
young gentleman's determination as soon as 1
return."

When I came home, Sally didn't cry : oh ! of
course not, women don't know how, when she
saw all her hopes broken to pieces, like a flower-
pot that falls off a stand, leaving nothing but dirt,
broken crockery, and squashed roses on the car-
pet. And Sam didn't stalk about the room, and
hold up his head straight like a crane that's half
choked swallowin' a great bull frog, and talk non-
sense, and threaten to kick the President if ever
he caught him to Slickville. Oh no ! boys never
do that ; and they didn't coax and persuade me
to take a foreign mission, on purpose to have Sam

THAT HOPE BUILT.

253

as attache. Oh no ! of course not ; that would
have looked selfish, and been askin' too much of
Uncle. I wonder if there is such a thing as ask-
ing too much of an uncle. Thinks I, when the
Lord don't send children, the devil sends nephews
and nieces. Well, hope, like an alder-hush near a
ditch in the dyke, as soon as it is cut down springs
right up again, and puts forth five or six stems
instead of one. There is a new hope for Sam,
who raillv is a handsome feller, and if he was a
little taller would be most as handsome as his
Uncle.

« Well, what is it, Sally ?"
. " Why, I think he will marry Miss Crowning-
shield, the great heiress ! Her father made a
million of dollars in ile, and left it all to her. Oh !
I hope to goodness he will take my advice. She
is very fond of him, and meets him more than
half way. Wouldn't that be grand, Sam ?"

Well, I didnt say a word.

" Sam, why don't you speak ? Why Sam, what
ails vou?"

" Sally dear," sais I, " take care. This fortin'
cojnmenced in ile, and will eend in blubber, as sure
as the world, see if it don't."

Well, it did ; cither he didn't go the right way

. -. aigy^wwwillWCW

■'lafv*

li !8

•254

THE HOUSE

to work, or she jilted him ; but they didn't hitcli
horses together. Sail took to her bed, and nearly
cried her eyes out, and Sam took to a likely young
heifer, that had just money enough to pay their
passage, and spliced and set off to California. He
vrill do better nuw he is away from his mother, if
he works like a nigger day and night, amt afraid
of hot suns and cold rivers, has good luck in
diggin', and don't get robbed, burnt out, or mur-
dered.

Hope will be the death of poor Sally yet. She
goes it as strong as ever now on Joshua Hopewell
Munroe, the second boy ; and if they wovdd only
let hopin' alone, I make no doubt but he'd do.
" No, no !" as I said to my nephevv, when he went
to the Pacific, " hope ought to be struck out of
the dictionary Do your duty *S«m, and trust to
Providence ; have no hope and no fear ; regard
the present and not the future, except that
future beyond the grave, and for that the word
is faith.^^

Squire, what effect do you think that had
on him ? and this I will say, though I say
it that shouldn't say it, it's good advice. Why
the hopeful youth just winked to his wife, as
much as to say how wise he is, aint he ?

THAT HOPE BUILT.

255

1^1

" Exactly, uncle," sais he, " we shall have as
happy a life of it as the jolly old pair in the
song had, who

'* * Nor hoped, nor feared, nor laughed, nor cried,
And so they lived, and so they died.'

Good hye, uncle ;" and after they got out into
the entry, I could hear them laugh like anything
at it. Poor hoy ! he is the wrack of a house that
hope huilt.

• ^1

i I

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I 1.

^...ii^,^

256

'iHE HOUSE

CHAPTER XIII.

THE HOUSE WITHOUT HOPE.

While the boy was goin' for Eldad Nickerson,
I vviilked into the house of Mr. Peter Potter, the
door of which stood invitinly or carelessly open,
and went to the fire, where Peter sat smokin'
a pipe. He was about as cross-grained, morose,
ongainly, forbiddin' a lookin' man as ever I
sot eves on. He was tilted back on his chair,
which he balanced with the toes of his boots.
He wore his hat, to save the trouble of taking
it on or off, and a month's beard, to save the
trouble of shavin\ He neither got up, nor looked
up, nor spoke, but seemed listening to a green
stick of wood, that was what is called, singing
or hissing, as the heat of the fire drove out the

WITHOUT HOPE.

257

sap. Poverty, despair, and dogged bad temper
was stjimped on his face in big print. I guess
he had got out of bed the wrong way that
mornin'.

Lverything depends on how a man gets up.
It's a great secret that. If it is done wrong
leg foremost, or wrong eend fust, you are wrong
all day, cross as old scratch ; and the wisest
thing is to give you a wide bertli, lest you should
fly off the handle. And if the right le^;, jr
the right side, or right eend, as the cas^ may
be, comes u|) as it ought, why then you'll do
pretty well that day, like old Blowhard, if they
don't rile you. But t'other way, is like the sun
risin', and goin' into a cloud right off; it's a
sure sign of a storm, or a juicy day.

Peter had got up wrong, or never turned in
right, or didn't know the dodge of gettin' out
of bed properly. The apartment in which Ik;
sat, was both a kitchen and common sitting-
room. It was clean, but scantily and wrctcliedly
furnished. Every thin' betokened gnsat poverty.
Much of the glass of the windows was broken,
and its place supplied by shingles, and what was
left was patched with the fragments of those
that had been shattered. The dresser contained
but few articles of crockery, and those of the

voi. I. s

258

THE HOUSE

commonest kind, of diffcront patterns, and of
indispensible use. A common deal table, a bench,
and three or four ricketty chairs, with two round
pieces of birch, apparently sawed from a log of
Hre-wood, for seats, that stood on each side of thu
chimney, was all that the room contained.

Onlike other houses of the same kind, belongin'
to people of his class, which are generally com-
fortable, and bear some marks of thrift and good
cheer, this exhibited nothin' to feed or work
upon. No hams hung temptin' from the rafters.
No hanks of yarn kivered the walls, and no
spinnin'-^^heel showed a partnership with sheep.
High up, within the large open tire-place, and
on either side of the jams, were two hard-wood
rods, that severally supported about a dozen
gaspereaux, or alewives, that were undergoin*
the process of smokin' ; while in one corner of the
room stood a diminutive scoop net, by the aid of
which, the eldest boy apparently had provided this
scanty supply of food for the family. A heavy,
old-fashioned musket was slung between the
windows, and was probably the travellin' com-
panion of its owner, for the special benefit of
constables and wild-fowl, both of which are
naturally shy, in a place so much frequented by
sailors. * •

WITHOUT HOPE.

259

1(1 of
leiich,
round
og of
of the

ongin'

com-
1 good

work
rafters,
ind no

sheep,
e, iind
d-vvood

dozen
Icrgoin'

of the
aid of

ed this

heavy,

fcn the

com-

letit of

;;h are

kted by

It was a scene not easily forgotten, especially
in a country like Nova Scotia, where cominon
industry supplies in abundance all the ordinary
wants of a family. Procecdin' to the fire-place,
I addressed the immoveable and silent owner.

" Mornin'," sais I, " friend. By your leavt;
I'll liij^ht a cigar by your fire." And suitin'
the action to the word, I took up a coal, blowed
it, and lit one.

" That's right," said he, " help yourself fust,
and then ask leave."

" Peter, iiirit you ashamed ?" said his wife,
who stood near the dresser, apparently desirous
of escaping observation.

" No, I aint."

*' Well then, you ought to be."

" Friend," sais I (for if I blow a coal, I nc^ver
blow up contention), "friend," sais I, (and I took
no notice of what he said, for I was detarmined
to make him talk in spite of himself. I never
see the man yet, where I had the chance, that
I couldn't draw him out, as easy as nail-rod
iron), "friend," sais 1 "will you try a cigar?
it's a first chop article."

" No ; I don't smoke them," he said ; " I can't
afford them."

" Well, here is a fig of best Varginny tobacky.

s 2

( .1

260

THE HOUSE

You don't often sec the like in these diggins ; take
that."

He held his hand out without spcakin' a word,
halt-ashamed to refuse, and half-unwillin* to
accept it, and 1 dropt it in.

" And now," sais I, *' friend, I must be a
movin'. Good-bye. I am obliged to you for
the loan of that are coal, for I left my fire-
works behind." And 1 turned and went to the
door, to intercept the boy, so that he mightn't
give my name; for I am well known on the
Shelburne coast, having set up a clock in every
house in the county almost. We met at the
threshold.

" Mr. Nickerson," said he, " will be here
torectlv, Sir."

" All right, my lad. Now, here's the half-
dollar you aimed. You see how easy money is
aimed by them that's willin' to work. You're
a smart lad, and would make a smart man, if
you had a chance. Now, cross over that neck ;
under the bank is a boat. Tell them that's in
it to hold on there for me ; and do you wait
till I come, and I will give you a quarter-doUar

more.

" Yes, Sir," said the boy, all animation, and
was going to start off again, when I said :

WITHOUT HOPE.

261

" And boy !"

"Yes, Sir."

" Do you know Jabc Lunn?"

" Yes, Sir ; he lives close by."

" Wdl, ho used to be the laziest rascal in all
Shelburne county. If you will ax him to come
and swing on the gate with me for half an hour,
and suck sugar-barley, I will give you another
quarter-dollar, for I hante got a soul to talk to,
and my tongue is getting rusty on the hinge.
Now off like a shot."

I followed him an instant with my eye, and
then said, loud enough to myself to be heard
inside : " A plaguy smart boy that — well-man-
nered, too — and the gracious knows where hc^ got
such nice manners from !" Then I tiok a step
or two forward, and then suddenly returned, and
looked in. " Good-bye, old man," sais I, a raisin'
of my voice, " I see you arc dumb ; I hope you
aint deef ;" and I sauntered towards the road, for
I knew I should be called back. I had sowed the
seeds of curiosity — perhaps jealousy — about
Nickerson. High words succeeded my departure ;
anr the wife soon followed me, and besought me
to wait for Mr. Nickerson. She said her hus-
band was subject to these gloomy fits, and this

1 ,.

1 I

262

THE HOUSE

i
t

one was passin' off. ^ "^oor thing ! like all wives,
she made every excuse but the right one, and that
was that he was a nasty cross-grained critter, that
wanted a good quiltin' to warm his blood — for
warm blood makes a warm heart, that's a fact.
Well, back I went. I gained my pint. I wanted
to (jxamine the critter, and probe the sore spots,
and see what on airth ailed him.

" Come, Sir," sais she, " sit down please."
And she took her apron, and wiped the dust off
the chair — a common country practice — and took
another herself.

" Come to preach, I suppose ?" said old Peter,
who had found his tongue at last.

" No, my friend, I am not ordained , and
them that aint, have got somethin' to lam them-
selves."

" Come to lectur', perhaps ?"

"No," sais I, "I have not come to lectur
you."

" I don't mean that," he said, for curiosity,
when once started, aint easy kept in ; " I mean
call a meetin', read a lectur', and piiss round the
hat."

" No," sais I, " I don't put my money in my
hat, but in my pocket. Come here," sais I, " my

WITHOUT HOPE.

203

1 wives,
md that
ter, that
lod — for

a fact.

wanted
re spots,

please."
dust oflF
,nd took

J Peter,

I , and
thcm-

Icctur

• •

iriosity,
I mean
nd the

in my
[, " my

beaatiful little curlv-hcadcd bov, and I'll show
you the pocket is better than the hat ;" and I
took out a silver threepenny bit, and a large copper
halfpenny.

{(

Go to the gentleman," said the mother,
Now," sais I, " which will you have ?"

Well, child-like, he took the biirirest

CO'

" My friend," said I, " tha<" big follow promises
the most, but can do the least. That small white
chap is just worth three of him, tho' he don't

look like

Don'

:rust professions when you
grow up."

" Oh ! I see," said Peter, relapsin' into his
sulkiness, "I see now, you arc a canvasser?"

" No, I aint," said I. "I hate, and despise,
and detest politicians of all sorts, sizes, shapes,
and names."

" The devil you do !" said he. " So do I."

" Ah, ha !" sais I, " that's one o' the places the
shoe pinches."

" But maybe," and he still looked diss.itisticd,
" maybe you are a lawyer chap ?"

" Maybe, I aint," sais I ; " for I don't calculate
to live on the follies, the vices, the crimes, and
misfortins of others, but to airn mv bread like an
honest man. Take care of that bit of silver, my

'.^

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264

THE HOUSE

little boy," sais I. "Don't give it to a lawyer
when you grow up."

" What mout your name be ?" said Potter,
turning half round, and takin' a look at me.

" Well," said I, " it mout be Mr. Samuel ;" I
thought I'd keep back Slick, for I knew he
wouldn't talk if he discovered who I was.

" Samuel 1" said he. " I knew a man oncct of
that name. He was a Jew. He used to come
from Meremachi, and traded here in jevvel'ry."

" I've heard of him," said I ; " Samuel the
Jew. But don't you know that a man may have
an everlastin' long beard like you, or be called
Samuel like me, and yet neither of us b(; Jews.
I never had but four jewels in my life, and them
my father gave me. They have made my fortin."

" * Master Samuel,' said he (I came very near
lettin' the cat out of the bag by say in' Sam), * I
have four jewels for you.'

" Well, it made my eyes twinkle.

"'Now,' thinks I, 'won't I make the gaUs
stare. Wliat might they be like. Sir ?' said I.

" ' Why,' sais he, 'first, rise early ; secondly,
work hard ; thirdly, be frugal ; fourthly, pay as
you go.* Heavens and airth ! how disappointed
I was.

ji V

WITHOUT HOPE.

265

: .s\

galls

> «

Uidly,
lay as

" Aint that a nice story, my little boy ?" for
he had got interested, and had co.ne close to
me.

" Yes, Sir, it is."

" Well, it is almost as pretty as you be. But
never forget it, they will make you a man as they
have me. ' Do you call them jewels, father ?'
said I.

" ' Yes, I do,' said he ; ' and worth more, too,
than all the gewgaws of stones, glass l)t'ads called
brilliants, and gold settin's and fixin's in the
world.'

" No, I am no Jew."

" Well, arter all this palaver," said old Stick-
in-thi>mud, "what are you arter?"

" I am arter another coal of fire," said I, " to
light a fresh cigar witii. For goodness gracious
sake, don't grudge me that. Give me a light ;
and if you don't, you may go to the devil, and
I will go to Texas."

" Peter ! Peter !" said his wife, risin' up, " are
you a goin' for to drive the gentleman out of t\w-
house agin ? O'a dear ! oh dear ! My goodness,
it aint often we see the likes of him here, who
merely asks to light his pipe, sits down and talks
like one of us, and has no pride."

I '!|

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t ■

MI,:.

i m

»n

266

THE HOUSE

On ho ! sais I to myself, there is another place
the shoe pinches. I'll find the sore spots
bv-and-hye.

"Hold your jaw," said he, " will you? You
don't know vrhat you arc a talkin' about. Who

the devil

id old Peter, addr

rcssuig me.

" I don't know, and you don't seem willing to tell
me ; but I like your talk, and you are welc«)nie to
wait here ^or Eldad. You warn't born ycsterda\,
I know."

" I guess not," said I ; "I was born thirty-five
years ago. Well," sais I, " there is another thing
I want."

" I thought so," said he ; " I knew you were
arter somethin'. People don't force their talk or
their company on others for nothin' ;" and he sot
down and looked as ugly and as cross ever.
" What is it you are arter?"

"Why," sais I, "you iiive given me a little
fire, couldn't you give me a drop of water. The
Shelburne water is the best in the world. i have
got a little mite of brandy in this flask," taking it
out of my pocket, " and I should like to take some
with you before we part, unless you grudge the
water as much as you did the fire ; if you do, you
may keep it to put it out afore you go to bed.

r piiicr
spots

You
Who
ng mc.
r to tell
Dnie to
stcrdav,

irty-tivc
ir thing

)u were

talk or

he sot

s f'^vor.

The

1 have

dog it

fe some

rlgc the

ilo, you

to bed.

WITHOUT HOPE.

5^^1

.iJ'^^

267

Come, old fellow," said I, tappi.n' him on the
shoulder, " don't be grumpy, you will never see
me agin arter to day ; and it* you haint no ob-
jectir»n, give mc the bucket, and I'll go and ihaw
a little fresh water from the well, and we'll liquor."

" Draw water ?" said he, risin' up slowly in
astonishment. " How tin; plague do you know
where the well is ?"

" How the plague do 1 know that you ow(» Lock
and Key of Ragged Island, and Snow of Shel-
burnc? How do I know that Muir builds for
Fairbanks and Allison ? That you aint a squire,
tho' you ought to be ? That Jabe Lunn is lazy,
and Eldad Niekerson is a good pilot ? Come,
give me the bucket, the well is under the willow-
tree there to the right, near the road."

" Mother," said he, " did you ever hear the like
of that ?"

" Never," said she.

" Nor I cither," said In; ; " but needs must
when tho devil drives, so here goes," and off he
went for the water.

"Mister," said his wife, when he was gone,"l
see you have been about here afore, and know who
we are, tho' we don't know who you be."

"That'satact,"sais 1.

** My poor husband is dissatisfied and (lis-

^11

! !I

?t« If

ill I

m ■

V: i

! ;i

( :!»l

THE HOUSE

couraged, talk to him, do Sir, if you please, for
you talk diffi.Toiit from anybody else. I saw you
was detarminrd to nuiko him speak to you, and
nobody, I do believe, eould have done it but vour-
self, because vou don't want riothin' of him, and
now he will tell you anythin' you like. Do en-
courage him if you can, pray do, Sir; he is down-
hearted, and down in the world, he says he is
past hope. It's dreadful to liear him talk that
way !"

" Come, bear a hand," sais I, "• my old boy, for
1 want a drtjp of somcthirr to drink (not tliat I
cared nlxuit it, but I guessed he did). Try that,
it will warm the cockles of your heart, and then
lit us have a dish of chat, for my time is short, and
I must be a movin* soon. How do vou like that
ch? It aint bad, is it ?'*

" Wdi, it aiiit," said he, that's a fact.

" Now," sais L " my friend sit down and talk.
I have toki you what I aint, now tell me what you
aint."

" Well," sais he, " I aint a Papist, I ran't abide
ihcrn, \/ith their masses, holy water, and con-
fession;."

" Thiy have as good a right to be Papists, as
you linvo to be a Protestant," Jsais I ; "and the world
is wide and large enough for both of you. Let

WITHOUT HOPE.

269

them alone, and they will l(!t you be, if ihey can. f
Perhaps you are a churchman ?"

" No, T don't hold to them either, their ministers '

are too proud ; they talk down to you like as if )
you only onderstood a little common English, hut
don't take you up to them, do you compre-
hend ?"

" Exactly," sais I, " I take ; but help yourself to
a little of that arc old particular Cogniac, for talk-
ing is dry work. Exactly, but you don't compre-
hend. You couldn't onderstand plain English if
you was \o die for it. If you was to go to York-
sliire, or Somersetshire, or Cornwall, or any of
them counties vvliere plain English is spoken, you
couldn't onderstand one word of it, any more nor
if it was French. Plain English aint plain at all ;
it's like common sense, the most oncommon thing
in ti\e world. And if they was to take you up to
tiiem, it would be half Latin und Greek, and you /
couldn't comprehend that ; and as for pride, aint
there a little mite or morsel of that in vour not
acknowledgin' a superior?" '

" That are a fact," said his wife, " T am a
churchwoman my sell ; and I often tell him it aint
the parson that's proud, but him."

" Mother," said he, ' will you holtl your tongue?
because if you won't, you had better leave the

270

THE HOUSE

■ I

I '

room. You don't know what you are a-talking

about

((

Com(3," sais 1, " go on ; for there is nothin'
next to work, I love so much as talk. By work
you (jet money, by talk you get knowledye.^*

Well, the methodist preachers are as proud

as the church parsons, and better paid," said he.

((

;h the better fo

id T, ''for

r)0 niucn tne Defter lor you, sau
they want tiie less from you."

" Want, is it?" said lie. " Why they all want
something or another. There was a Latter-Day
Saint came here last Sabbath month from the
Cape to preach. They say he is a great wracker,
helps the poor people's things ashore, and lets tlie
owners swim for it. Well, his horse was as fat
as a seal, and shined in the sun so as nearly to
jjut your eyes out.

** ' Friend Potter,' said he, " they all call you
friend when the; hat is to go round, ' a marciful
man is marciful to his beast.' Thinks I to my-
sel " I wonder if you are marcifid to your wife, for
she is as thin as a crow, and if all your wracks are
no better than her, the trade wouldn't be worth
foUerin'.

Peter, Peter," said his wife, " how loosely, you

((

talk.

I wi.sh your tongue warn't so loose," said he,

WITHOUT HOPE.

271

what busint'ss is it of vours how I t;ilk ? * Mr.
Potter,' siud the prt'jicher, ' huvt; you are a lock of
hay to spare f

" ' No,' sals I, ' I haint. Hay is six pounds a
ton ht'n;, and mine is fed out lon^ ix^^n. My
cattle is most starved, and is now to tiie liftin'.'

" ' Well,' sais he, ' have you are a dog-tish you
don't want?'

" ' Yes,' sais I, ' plenty. Some I try out for
ile, and some I use for manure. What do you
want of 'em ?'

"* I'll tell,' said he. 'That are horse that is so
fut and shiny has eat only a few hundredweight of
hay since last fall ; two dojr-fish a day did all the
rest of the teedin', and look at him, aint he a
pictur'f"

•' Is that a fact, Mr. Putter," sais I ?

" A nateral truth," said he.

" Well, my friend, that is the good of talk, as 1
told vou, vou larn somethinn: hv it. I never lieard
that afore, and to poor Hshermen it's worth mon;
than all the boards of agriculture ever did for
them. Bv-and-bve, I'll tell you somethin' vou
don't know, for swappiny facts is better than
swapping horses any time.**

" Yes," said Peter, looking wise, " I go to hear
all religionists, but hitch on to none."

'Ill

272

THE HOUSE

" That's natural'* snis I, "for a man that
knows less than any or more than all of them.
But I didn't mean to ax you what sect you be-
longed to. Like you, I don't belong to any sect ;
but like your wife, 1 belong to the Church ; how-
ever, I never talk of these things. What I should
like to know is — what you are?"

" Oh, now I understand you," said he ; " oh ! I
am neither consarvative nor liberal. I have no
hope in either of them. In fact I am desperate,
and I have no hope. I don't put my hope in
princes, for I never saw one ; nor on any son of
man, for all men are liars ; nor any son .of a gun
of a governor, for though they don't lie, they don't
speak the truth. All they say is I'll see, which
means I'll see you out of the liouse, or I'll in-
quire, which means I'll inquire for an excuse. I
hope I may be hanged — "

" Oh ! Peter i*otter, how you talk," interrupted
his wife.

** Mother, will you hold your tongue now, 1 tell
you ;" said her spouse.

" Yoiir wife is right," sais I, " don't hope to be
hanged, or you will be disappointed, say wish."
Well, call it what you like. May I be hanged

((

if ever I hope again,

((

Wliy what on airth's the matter

j>»

WITHOUT HOPE.

273

to be

i>>

linged

" Matter," said he, " everythin' is the mattrr.
Things is so hi^h you can't live here now."

"So much the better tor a poor man all over
America," sais I, " for if nou raise less, thr priee
rises in proportion ; all you've got to do is to work
harder, and you'll grow rich."

" The fish," he continued, " aint so plenty as
they used to b** ; the rot's in the potaters ; and thr
weavel in the wheat ; and tin* devil in every-
thin'."

" Why man alive," sais I, ** how easy it is to
grund)le, if it was only as hard as work, all tlie
world would be well to do in a gineral way 1
reckon. As for wheat, vou never raised anv, so
you can't complain of the weavel, and as to pota-
toes, tifty bushels was about your biggest crop,
for you like superfine Yankee; tloiu* better. And
as to lu(^k in the mackerel fishery, do vou calculate
to be so lucky as for them to comi; to you, or an;
you too lazy to go to them. There aint a single
vessel gone from this coast yet, folks an; so
tarnel sleepy ; and I saw with my own eyes
thirty-six sail of Yankee fish(;rmen, this bless(;(l
day, one half returnin' deep loade«l, and the
other goin' on the second trip. Some folks are
too lazy to Hve."

" That are a nateral fact," said his wife again,

VOL. I. T

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TEST TARGET (MT-S)

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150 '■^"
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2.5
22

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Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

'^\

'>.!

274

THE HOUSE

who, after all, seemed determined to have her own
way a little, as well as her husband.

" Woman," said he, imploringly, finding the
current against him, " now do hold your tongue,
will you?"

" No, I won't hold my tongue," she replied
with spirit ; " I have as good a right to talk as
you have. Oh, wife ! oh, husband !" said she,
" the gentleman talks sense, and you know it."

To preserve the peace, I said, " I wonder what
keeps Eldad Nickerson so long ?" and then I took
out my watch, and pretended to look puzzled.
" If he don't come to me soon,'* sais I, " I must
go to him, that's a fact. But what on airth had
either Consarvatives or Liberals to do with the
weavel, the rot, or the run of fish ?"

" Well, not exactly all mixed up that way," said
he ; " but added up, they are too much to stand.
There is no hope for a poor man, but to lie down
and die."

" It would be better for their widders," said I,
« if one half of 'em did ?"

" So say I," said his spouse, who seemed to
think there might be some hope then.

" Well, but what have politicians done ?"

" Done !" said he ; " why, done nothin', or
done things brown. Didn't the Consarvatives

WITHOUT HOPE.

275

' own

g the
ngue,

eplied
alk as
1 she,
t."

' what
I took
azzled.
I must
th had
th the

" said

stand.

e down

said I,

med to

hin , or
rvatives

appoint that consaited nincumpoop and jackass,
Mr. Ryder Kitchum, to lay out the road-money
right in front of my door, year after year ? Warn't
that enough to raise the dander of a Quaker?
And then, arter 1 turned tail, and voted for the
Radicals, and fit and got licked awful, they actilly
wouldn't appoint me hog-reave."

" I shouldn't account that office no great honor,"
said I, " nor profit nother."

" Well," said he, with a sigh of regret at this
review of the extent of his misery, " the honor,
perhaps, was no great loss ; but the profit was
considerable. Most of the male folks here go
a fishing : well, in course, while they nre away
in the fall, their pigs will get out into the high-
way ; and then a man that does his duty, which
I always strive my best to do, nabs them in a
minute, advertises them for sale right oflF; and as
there is no one to bid, buys them up for half
nothin'. They actilly fed my family all winter."

" Well, I never," said Mrs. Potter, " in all my
born days ! Why, Peter, you have told that fib
so often, you actilly believe it now yourself."

" Well, well," sais I to myself, " this chap is
a bit of a scounderal at bottom, after all ; or else
he is so ignorant, he don't know right from
wrong. Mr. Potter," said I, " that may be accordin

T 2

If.

•?i

i I

276

THE HOUSE

to Province law, but, depend upon it, it's agin the
moral law. I don't wonder them hogs was hard
to disgest, and made^ you feel all the time as if you
had nothin' to do, but lie down and sleep till
you died. It was your pork, and not your care,
that was too heavy. Come, cheer up, man."

After a pause, he said, " You have the eye of
a lawyer, and the tongue of a minister ; but, after
all, what is the use of talking ? I am in a regular
tormented, etarnal frizzle of a fix. I am tied hand
and foot, and I can't help myself nohow I can
work it. But it's my own fault; I can't blame
nobody but myself What's done, is done; but
sometimes, when I sit down and think over what
is past, and what a fool I have been, I nearly go
distracted ;" and he struck his forehead with his
clenched fist, and looked the very pictur of
despair ; and in the bitterness of his heart, said
he wished he was dead. " You can't swim long
agin the current, stranger," he continued, " with-
out cuttin' your throat as a pig does ; and if that
don't happen, you soon get tired out, and the
waters carry you down, and you are foundered for

ever

" Try an eddy," said I : " you ought to know
enough of the stream of life to find one of them ;
and then you would work, up river as if it was

WITHOUT HOPE,

277

:•

flood-tide. At the end of the eddy is still water,
where you carx rest for another struggle."

" Yes," said he, bitterly ; " and at the end of
life, there's the grave, where the struggle is over.
It is too late now : I have no hope."

" Mr. Potter," said I, " poverty is full of pri-
vations, vexations, and mortifications, no doubt,
and is hard to bear. The heart of man is natu-
rally proud, and poverty humbles it to the dust ;
but poverty can be endured — honest poverty ; and
so can misfortin, provided memory don't charge
it to our own folly, as it does in your case."

" Oh, Sir !" said he, " when I look back some-
times, I go well nigh mad."

" What has made you mad, ought to make you
wise, my friend," I replied. " A good pilot has
a good memory: he knows every current, sunk
rock, shoal, breaker and sand bar ; havin', as like
as not, been in a scrape onct or twice on all of
them. Memory is npthin^ but expeiience. The
memory of the wrong ivay keeps us in the right
one, and the memory of the right road reminds
us of pleasant journeys. To mourn to-day over
the wreck of yesterday only increases the loss,
and diminishes the value of what little is left to
us. If you are in a fix, back-water, throw the

278

THE HOUSE

lead, look oat for a channel, and pull into some
cove or another."

" Nothin' but Providence can help me !" he
said, shaking his head; "and I have no hope
of that, for I don*t desan'e its interference."

" I guess not," said I, " for Providence requires
three things of us afore it will help us — a stout
lieart, a strong arm, and l stiff upper lip. Can
you fish ?"

" I guess I can ! I won't turn my back on no
man in these parts, either for the mackerel or cod,
the shore or deep sea-fishing."

" Why the plague don't you go to work, then,
like a man?"

" Because I can't get the supplies. If I go to
Birchtown, they grab all the catch for the outfit,
and an old balance ; and if I go to Shelburn I
hante got no credit. It's no use talkin'. When
you are down^ poverty, like snow-shoes, keeps
your feet fast, and prevents your rising : a man
can't hope agin hope."

" Why not engage as a hand on board another
man's craft, then ?"

"What! go as a hand, when I have always
gone as a skipper ? No, no ! stranger, that cat
won't jump !" ^ *^ * 'l

WITHOUT HOPE.

279

" Lord John Russell has done it," sais I, " and
a higger man than him afore his day, and that's
John Adams. So my friend," sais I, " let's drop
the subject, for I don't like talkin' nonsense. _It_
aint your misfortens, nor the memory of the past^
nor your poverty, that ails you, but your tarnal
pride. I don't pity you one bit ; but I do your
wife and children. Your panes of glass in your
winders are all shingles, as the Patlanders say,
and the room is so dark I can't hardly see
Mrs. Potter ; but your two boys I have seen, and
smart little chaps they be too, it's a pity you
should bring 'em up to be ashamed of their
father. Be a man ! — above all, be an honest
man! for a poor man that won't work aint
honest, that's a fact."

He covered his face with his hands at that
poke : if the hide is thick on the ribs, its thin
on the flanks, and there is nothing like trying
for tender spots.

" Work," said I, followin' up that jibe ; " airn
your own pork, and see how sweet it will be.
Work and see how well you will be. Work and see
how cheerful you will be. Work and see how inde-
pendent you will be. Work and see how happy
your family will be. Work and see how religious
you will be, for before you know ivhere you are

r
I'

280

THE HOUSE

instead of repinin' at Providence, you will find
yourself offering up thanks for all the numerous
blessings you enjoy. Our vessel is just below, on
a coastin' voyage down east. Come along with
me, and you shall have five pounds cash a month,
and be found. And when you return, put your
pride in one pocket, and your wages in the other,
and see which will weigh heaviest. Come, hope
for the best."

For a few minutes he remained silent, when he
suddenly sprung up, seized my hand, and said :

" Done ; it's a bargain.''

" Thank God for that," said Mrs. Potter, and
burst into tears.

" Now, Peter," sais I, " we sail to-night if the
wind's fair, so look up your traps ; but first of all
shave, and make yourself look like a Christian.
Come, stir your stumps, and hope for the best.'*

" I do," said he ; " it's the first glimpse of hope
that has entered this house for many a long day.
I'll be ready in no time."

Arter all, I had to use that word hope ; and I
believe it must actilly be kept a little longer in the
dictionary, in spite of all prejudice for such poor
devils as Peter Potter. It is a dark room that
has no ray of light in it. Hope is a slender reed
for a stout man to lean on, but it's strong enough,

WITHOUT HOPE.

281

I do suppose, for them that's infirm of mind and
purpose. The houses hope builds are castles in
the air. The houses of the wretched, who are
altogether without hope, are too dismal to live
in. A slight infusion of hope may be prescribed
in bad cases ; but strong doses weaken the mind,
loosen the morals, and destroy the happiness of
those who indulge in them. The true rule is,
perhaps, not to let hope build a house for you, or
to live with you in it ; but he might come to visit
you sometimes, to cheer you up a little, by talking
pleasant, and getting you to look on the bright
side of things, when you are in a solemncholy
mood. Hope is a pleasant acquaintance^ but an
unsafe friend. Hell do on a pinch for a tra-
vellin' companion^ but he is noi the man for
your banker.

\ I

282

AN OLD FRIEND

CHAPTER XIV.

AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW FACE.

As Potter retired into one of the bed-rooms,
for the purpose of carryin' his good resolutions
into effect, I took my hat, and was about to pro-
ceed by the path to Mr. Nickerson's house, when
Mrs. Potter, hastily puttin' on a bonnet, followed
me out. The moment I saw her in the broad
day-light, I recognised her as Patty Schneider, the
belle of the coast, but now sadly changed by her
many and sore trials, and retainin' but little that
vouched for her former beauty and vivacity. A
good temper must be kept cool to retain its
sweetness. Even sugar, when fermented, makes
i vinegar, and sour draughts makes wry faces. Her
cheerfulness was destroyed, and her husband's

/ITU A NEW FACE.

283

\ I

CE.

;d-rooms,
ssolutions
t to pro-
use, when
, followed
the broad
eider, the
3d by her
little that
acity. A
retain its
d, makes
Lces. Her
husband's

temper made worse by the poverty into which
ihv.y had fallen.

Folks talk of nations and colonies being capable
of self-government. Shew me one man or woman
in either that is able to govern themselves. Pride
and consait ruin us all, and we know it, and yet
we flatter the pride and consait of the public to
rule them. Political self government means the
blind leading the blind. A government is an
asylum, in which imbeciles imagine themselves
kings, queens, and statesmen, and are indulged in
their delusions, to preserve the peace of the com-
munity.

I wish they would make a statesman of Peter
Potter, for the sake of his wife. If he lived on
the pork of others, so do Generals and Admirals,
and so does the manufacterers' patriot on clear
sheer, with his subscription fortin. Confiscatin'
his neighbour's pigs, is only an humble imitation
of Louis Napoleon's seizure of the Orleans' estates.
Peter has been enough at the helm to lam how
to back and fill. What more does any Prime
Minister know ? But I must leave him to shave,
and talk to his wife, Patty Schneider. Poor thing !
she had known better times, for her father was
the richest trader on the coast in his day. Where

i.',

Ii 1

it)

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284

AN OLD FRIEND

all are poor, it dorCt tnhc much to make a rich

man.

" Oh, Mr. Samuel !" she said, " how happy
you have made me to-day !"

" Happy !" sais I to myself, as I turned and
looked at her pale, melancholy, holler, dragged-
looking face, her old yaller smoky honnet, her
faded calico gown, lookin' still more so from its
contrast with a clean white apron, which, woman-
like, she had quietly slipped on while I was con-
varsin' with her hushand in the house. She had
also thrown on a shawl, to cover ihe ravages of
wear and tear on her dress, and as she spoke,
hastily and almost stealthily, adjusted it in its
place, and rapidly passin' her hand under her
bonnet, confined her still luxuriant and beautiful
hair within its narrow limits. Even in this hour
of mingled trouble and of joy, the becomin's were
not wholly forgotten. Woman is ever true to her
nater; and v;hat we are pleased to call vanity,
and female folly, is the mere fulfilment of the law
of her bein', without obeying which, she would
soon cease to fill the station she deservedly enjoys
in every civilized nation. " Happy '" sais I to
myself. " Dear me ! if so little can make you
happy, what a brute beast your husband must be

WITH A NEW FACE.

285

to make you over unh;ij)pv. Patty," sais I, "you
seem thankful for small fiivours."

" What ?" said she. " What did you say ? Did
you call me Putty? How did you know my
name ?"

" Didn't Peter call you Patty ?" sais I.

" No, no," she said. " Tt is a name of love
that, and I haven't heard it for a long time," and
she burst into tears.

" Why, Mrs. Potter," sais I, " for I won't call
you Patty no more, first because it sets you
a-cryin' ; and scjconjly, because, as you say, it is a
word of love, Peter may not like it. Why, Mrs.
Potter, just now you told me I had made you
happy, and here you are a-cryin' away like an
April shower, jist to prove it."

" Oh, Sir ! that word Patty called up times
that's gone so sudden, that it quite upset mc."

" I came to thank you with all my heart," she
said. Your kindness — "

" Do tell !" sais I. " Now don't talk that way,"
(for there's nothin' I hate so much as thanks,
especially from a woman; it makes a feller feel
foolish, and you don't know exactly what to say).
So, sais I, " don't talk that way ; I've done no
kindness. W^e have made a fair trade. Fve got
a good hand, and your husband has got good

(,r,

■ii

286

AN OLD FRIEND

wages. There ain't no obligation in it ary way,
so say no more about it."

"Oh, that's not it!" she said; "you didn't
want hirn at all, and you know it. He could
have got wages always, but he wouldn't work;
he said it was useless. You have made him
feel his duty, opened new hopes and new prospects
to us all, and made us quite happy. I shall never
forget — "

" Yes you will, Pat — Mrs. Potter," sais I.

" Call me Paity," soid she ; " only friends do
that, and you have been the best friend I ever
had. But that word beats me; how did you
know it?"

" Didn't you hear him say, * Don't cry, Patty,' "
sais 1, "when you cried for pleasure seein' him
consent to go to work ?"

" No," sais she, doubtfully ; " I don't recollect,"
and she looked at me scrutinizin'ly, as i^ I was
tryin' to conceal somethin' from her. Said she
" I shall never forget."

" Yes you will, Fatty. Sit down here on this
windfall of a tree, and I'll tell you what we have
both forgot. How are you agoin' to get on
without him ?" Poor thing ! her eyes filled with
tears. I know'd what she was thinkin' of; times .
gone by, when she couldn't have borne the partin' ;

WITH A NEW FACE.

287

ary way,

u didn't
[e could
t work;
ide him
)rospects
all never

I. ^
lends do
1 I ever
did you

Patty,' "
ein' him

icollect,"
i^ I was
5aid she

i on this
wc have

get on
led with
■; times

partin' ;

but she didn't say a word for a space. Sais I,
"it's usual to advance some of the wages when
men ship that way," and I t' k out my pocket-
book, and opened it, and began to look for
province bills. " How much would you like ?"
sais I.

" I won't take any money, Sir," she said.
" Settle that with him, and he will do what's
right. He makes himself out worse than he is,
and as he is determined to throw the blame on
the shoulders of others; he paints everything as
black as possible. That story of his neighbours'
pigs is an embellishment of his own imagination.
I would have died before I would have tasted
provision so unjustly gotten."

Thinking she might be left to starve in his
absence, and that her refusal arose from diffidence,
I repeated the offer, and advised her to take it ;
but she promptly but civilly refused. As I was
returnin' the notes to the pocket of the book,
she put out her hand, and said :

" Oh, Mr. Samuel ! what a beautiful ring that
is !" and she bent over it to look at it. It was
paste for common use, but a capital imitation, and
no great value nother.

" Do you like it ?" sais I.

" It's the handsomest one I ever saw," she said.

1 1'

. — ■ ■ <<ill1 W W

288

AN OLD FRIEND

When I went to take it off, I found she had a
portion of my hand in hers, and was not a little
surprised to feel her rapidly passing her forefinger
lengthways and across the palm ; but I thought
it was accidental, and talked on. "Look at the
workmanship," sais I, handin' it to her. " Oh,
woman, women !" sais I to myself, " ain't you a
puzzle, that's all ! In the midst of hunger and
tears, and almost rags, a diamond ring has charms
in your eyes." It lowered her in my estimation,
that's a fact, more nor her refusal of her husband's
wages had raised her. "Will you do me the
favour to accept it ?" sais I. " I have another,
and I guess I have no use for this."

"Nor I nuther, Sir," said she. "That ring
would ill become one that wants the common
necessaries of life. It would hardly match this
gown, would it ?" holdin' up a smaU piece of
her faded calico. " No, Sir, thank you, I can't
take it ; but let me put it on you, please. How
soft and white your hand is," she remarked, " in
comparison with mine," holdin' the two together
side by side, and I felt the same light pressure
of her forefinger across the palm of my hand as
before. . s

" Poor thing !" sais I to myself, " I have
wronged you both times ; I did think you would

^
i

WITH A NEW FACE.

289

le had a
t a little
Drefinger
thought
k at the
. "Oh,
I't you a
nger and
ls charms
stimation,
husband's
) me the
3 another,

rhat ring
common
[latch this
piece of
u, I can't
ise. How
irked, " ic
together
it pressure
ly hand as

" I have
you would

have had the precaution to put the advance to
your husband, where it ought to go — into your
pocket. But your sense of honour was stronger
than your sense of hunger or expediency ; and I
did think you longed for the ring, and that your
vanity was stronger than your judgment. Man
like, I have wronged you, and I believe in my
soul, it ain't the first time by a long chalk, that I
have put a wrong construction on a woman.
Poor critter ! the higher I thought of her, the
more I pitied her. But while I was a tryin' to
find out her character, she was busy a tryin' to
find out mine. That word " Patty" had created
doubts ; takin* the trouble to preach to " stick-in-
the-mud'* her husband, and to hire him when
she thought I didn't want him, offerin' her
money, and then a handsome gold ring, all put
together, made a considerable case of suspicion
agin me. I began to sink in value accordin' to
her appraisement of me. When she put the ring
on my finger, she contrived to sit down agin on a
stump just opposite to me, and not on the trunk
of the same tree.

" Mr. Samuel," said she, " who in the world
are you? Is this what they call mesmerism, or
what is it? You have bewitched my boys, you

VOL. I.

290

AT OLD FRIEND

t, I

ki '

have altered Potter into a new man, and you have
made me so happy. I only want to know one
thing to make it parfect, and that is, is it all
real? I feel scared. You are not what you
seem to be."

" What makes you think so, Patty ?"
" Oh, there it is agin ! — Patty ! Oh, that's
reading backwards — that's mesmerism. I have
seen you when I was a child," she said : " I saw
you to Boston, to school there. I know your
voice ; I played with you in the churchyard.
When you first spoke, you startled me ; it was
like a far-off sound on the ear !"

She was excited ; her eyes lighted up brilliant,
and she railly did look beautiful. " Don't deceive
yourself," I said ; " I never was at school at
Boston in my life, and our childhood days were
spent far apart, as our after days will be."

" Still you are not what you seem to be,"
she said. " While you thought my aching eyes,
that were filled with tears, were admirin' your
ring, I was examinin' your hand. Look here.
Sir," and she rose, and taking it in hers, turned
up the palm. ';

"You are no sea captin. Sir. Those fingers
never handled ropes. There is no tar there, and

WITH A NEW FACE.

291

Du have
low one
5 it all
[lat you

I, that's

I have

" I saw

ow your

archyard.

: ; it was

brilliant,
't deceive
school at
lays were

to be,"
ling eyes,
irin' your
ook here,
rs, turned

se fingers
there, and

hard callous skin — it's softer than a woman's.
What does the like of you want of a sea-
man r

" Well, T am not a skipper," sais I, " that's a
fact."

" In the name of goodness, then," she saiu,
" who and what are you ? Did you ever hear of
a man having control of a vessel, captin, crew
and all; or half a dozen vessels fitted and manned ?
Is that an oncommon thing ?"

" I think, Mrs. Potter, you are gettin' on too
fast when you are frightened because a man's
hand is not hard that don't work with it ; that
wears a ring because he can afford it ; and hire's
a man, either because he wants him, or because
he pleases, and then stand off as high cock-spotty
as a partridge, and suig out mesmerism. You are
welcome to your thoughts," sais I. " I can't
stand lower in your estimation than I do in my
own. I never pretended to be a great man, or
great shakes of any kind. No woman ever took
me for either. If she had, she'd a snapped me
up long ago as quick as a duck does a June bug.
If it pleases you to make fun of me, you'd better
,be quick then, or Eldad will be here, and that's
the last you will ever see of me."

" Oh ! I am foolish or light-headed !" she said.

u 2

' 1 '(!

: tl

292

AN OLD FRIEND

" This onexpected turn of happiness seemed
incredible — impossible ! I couldn't realise it all
at once ! I thought I had know'd you in child-
hood. I see how it is now. I have seen you in
a dream — a long-forgotten dream — and now you
are fulfiUin' it ! Yes, that's it. I see it now —
it's the hand of Providence ! I'll never forget
you, my kind, good friend, as long as I live ;" and
she shook m'^ cordially by the hand.

" Yes you will, Patty ; you won't as much as
remember my name soon, let alone my face. A
word of advice is a small matter, and not worth
rememberin', but to foUer. As to memory, you
don't know, as well as I do. A dear old friend
of mine used to say : * The memory of past
favours is like a rainbow, bright, vivid, and
beautiful; but it soon fades away. The memory
of injuries is engraved on the heart, and re-
mains for ever J "

" It may be so with men, Sir," she said, " and
I believe it is ; but it aint so with women. Men
are selfish, and take everything as their due ; and
if their memory is bad, it is because they arc too
consaited to charge it. But women — have
you a woman? If I may be so bold, are you
married?" - '^ ' '^- •

" No," I replied, " I have no wife, and never

WITH A NEW FACE.

293

had. I am a bird of passage — here to-day and
gone to-morrow — and haven't had leisure to think
of marriage."

" Well, it's time you did," she said. " You
deserve a good wife, and I hope you will
get one. I am sure you would be kind to
her."

" The time is past now," said 1, mock modestly.
" I am too old ; and, as an old aunt of mine onct
said : ' them that I'd have, wouldn't have me, and
them that would have me, the devil wouldn't have.'
Patty," sais I, " the fox that had his tail cut off,
wanted to pf^rsuade every other fox to try the
short dock, too."

As I said that, I saw she took it wrong, for her
eyes filled with tears. She thought I meant more
than I said. It is strange, but true notwithstand-
ing : the faith and the courage of women is indo-
mitable. A gall makes shipwreck of everything
by gettin' married in haste, and repentin' a
leisure. No sooner is she a widder, than she
venturs to sea again, risks her all in another
voyage as full of confidence as ever ; and when
the storms come, and the ship is dismasted, and
she is picked up in the life-boat half-drowned,
half-starved, half-naked, and alone in the waste of

294

AN OLD FRIENp

■:f' ■;

I .1

v/aters ; no sooner docs she reach land and mix in
the gay world agin, before the idea crosses her
mind that better luck is still in store for her.

The storms are over — storms don't rage for
ever — the sky looks serene, and not a ripple is
seen on the ocean. Fair weather saihn' is a
pleasant thing, the temptation is too svrong, and
she is ready to embark again. Why not ? Does
it follow, because the leeward is all black, wild,
and dreary, that the sweet windward sky shall
ever again be overcast by the tempest and the
thunder-clouds? Not a bit of it. Go it, my
little widder, while you are young. The game of
life is not played out it one or two hands. Who
knows what are on the cards; and diamonds is
trumps now if hearts aint. I was sorry I alluded
to the fox's tail. She thought it was a jibe.
Wounded pride should he touched lightly. The
skin is thin and plagy sensative. '

" Patty," sais I, " you are generous to say you
won't forget me, but you feel more grateful on
account of your pretty boys than yourself. You
see light breakin' ahead already for them — don't
be offended. I know you will forget both me and
my name too." .. -^ .^ ^/

" Never, never," said she, with great emphasis ;

WITH A NEW FACE.

295

• •

I mix in
;ses her
r.

age for
ripple is
in' is a
ng, and
? Does
k, wild,
ky shall
and the
it, my
game of
. Who
[londs is
alluded
a jibe.
The

say you
teful on
f. You
1 — don't

me and

nphasis ;

'* never as long as I live. What makes you
think so meanly of me ? I think you have been
a guardian angel sent by Providence."

Well, I repeated them words, " guardian angel,"
slow.

" The very same," sfiid I. " How strange !
were you Patty Schneider ?"

"Yes, Sir," she said.

"A guardian angel, sent by Providence," said
I. " Exactly ! that's the very words he said you
used. It's a favourite word of yours ; and yet
you forgot him."

" Forgot who. Sir ? It's a false accusation !
Forgot who. Sir ? Pray do tell me ?"

"Well," sais I, "I was in England last year,
and there I met a man who told me a capital
story about you. He larfed ready to kill him-
self."

" I am much obleeged to him, I am sure," she
said, with a toss of her head; "he is welcome
to his good story. Who was he, the impident
feUow?"

"He said he was travelling once on the Bar-
rington road, the matter of some years ago now,
in his waggon, with a fast-trotting horse he had.
It was a lonely part of the road, and a woman

296

AN OLD FRIEND

§'

list

mistook liim for - doctor, and called to him to
stop find advise . about her children; one
had just died of scarlet-fever, and two others
were dangerously ill. Well, while he was talking
to the poor woman, one of the most beautiful
girls he ever laid eyes on, passed by on foot.
A rael clipper — tall, straight, well-built, perhaps
overly tall, plump as a partridge, eyes like a
snappin' turtle, teeth like ivory, lips like — "

" Well, never mind her lips. Who was she,
tell me quick ?"

" Stop," sais I, " till I get this plaguey knife
open, I can't talk unless I whittle. Her lips
were so — "

" Never mind her lips."

" Well, her neck and bust — "

" Well, never mind them ; who was that gall ?
Who did he say? 1 think I know what he is
at now."

" ' Who is that splendiferous gall ?' said he.

" He didn't say no such thing," she replied ;
" them is embellishments of your own."

"'That,' sais she, *is Patty Schneider, the
darter of old Capting Schneider, of Roseway, the
most sponsible man in these parts.'

*' Well, arter he had instructed the poor critter,

WITH A NEW PACE.

297

him to

1 ; one

others

talking

)eautiful

Dn foot.

perhaps

like a

vas she,

ey knife
ier lips

lat gall?
at he is

he.
replied ;

ler, the
;vay, the

r critter,

the best way he could, wliat to do about her
children — for he was a man that by travelling
about everywhere, had picked up a little of every-
thing amost — and encouraged her the best way
he could, he proceeded on his journey ; and as
he was joggin* on, he thought to himself, how
in the world did that beautiful young lady get
across them places in the swamp, where the water
covers the road, without wcttin' her shoes and
stockings ? She must have taken them off, and
waded as the snipes do."

" I didn't do no such a thing," she said. " Oh
dear !" oh dear ! To think I should have been
talked of in that way by that feller. It's too
bad, I declare," and she rested her elbows on her
knees, and put her hands to her face. *' Go on,"
she said, " what else did he say ?"

" Well," he said, "arter a while he heard the
screams of a woman in distress, and he pushed
on, and he saw a head and bonnet stickin' out
of the bog. And when he came up, the water
was across the road ; and it appeared the young
woman that had passed him some time afore,
in tryin' to cross over on a fallen tree that
lay there, had slipped off, and was up to her
neck in the quag, and would have sunk over

;ii 'I

298

AN OLD FRIEND

her hoiul, if she hadn't caught hold of the log
with both hands, and was screamin' and screerhin'
for dear life;."

" Well, that part is true," she said.

"Well, he said he was puzzled to know what
to do next, or how in the world to get her out,
for fear her weight would pull him in head first,
the ground was so slippery. But bracin' one
foot agin the log, and the other agin the road,
he stooped his head close down to her. ' Now,'
sais he, * put your arms round my neck, and
I will lift you up.'

"*I can't,' said she. 'If I let go my hold,
I shall sink out of sight, for I can't touch
bottom here, and my strength is een a'most
gone.*

" ' Try,* said he ; ' put one arm round first,
and I will hold on to it, and then try the other,
and if you can hook on that way, I think I can
haul you out.'

" Well, arter a while, she was a huggin' of
his neck instead of the log, and he streighted
himself up, and after a most desperate pull,
fetched up the upper part of her; and a most
powerful pull it was too, the bog sucked so
hard. But what to do then, he didn't know,

WITH A NEW FACE.

299

for It was necessary for him to take a fresh
hold of her, and there was no rcstin'-place for
her feet to help him.

*' * How much more of you is there left ?' sais
he; and he couldn't help larfin', now that the
worst was over. ' Take a higher liold of me,
and I will take a lower grip of you, and give
you another houss up.'

" Oh dear !" said Mrs. Potter with a groan,
** that I should ever hear of this again. It
warnt the part of a man to go and tell of such
an accident."

" Well, he gave her another start, and out she
came, all covered over with hlack slime, and with-
out her shoes, for the suction was so great, it
was a wonder it hwdn't drawn her feet off
too. ' Well,' he said, * the young lady thanked
him kindly, said she never would forget him the
longest day she ever lived, he had heen sent
by Providence as a ' guardian- an gel' for her (the
very words you used to-day to me), and that
he replied you was the angel, and not him ; and
that these two angels stood in the road there for a
few seconds all covered with black mud, dirty
sluime, and green water, exchangin' a few kisses
of gratitude, and that he never could think of it
arterwards without larfin, it was so droll a scene.' "

» M

i I

ill' s
IS'

I '

1 ^li

. ;

300

AN OLD FRIEND

" Did he now actilly say all that, or are you
making of it ?"

" Why you know whether it is true, or not ; is
that correct ?"

" Well, it's none of your affair, whether it is or
not. A body at such a time could hardly say
what they did."

" Well," said I, " he wouldn't be much of a
man, with a handsome woman in his arms, and
her face rubbin' agin hisin for so long a time, if he
he didn't manage to let the lips meet ; and I don't
think the young lady would have acted naterally
to be angry — at least, that's my opinion. But the
worst is to be told yet. He sais it's a pity they
ever met again."

" They never did meet again," she replied ;
" I never sot eyes, on him from that day to
this."

" Are you sure ?"

" As true. Sir, as I am talking to you, I never
saw him, and never heard of him since ; and
what's more, never found out his name."

" He went to your house some years arter wards,
he said, but you didn't or wouldn't know him.
Whether you was afraid of Mr. Potter hearin' it,
or didn't wish to recal the obligation to mind, he
didn't know, but you took no more notice of him

WITH i. NEW FACE.

301

than any other stranger. He felt hurt, I assure
you. He said he didn't blame you ; you might
have had your reasons, but he must have been
greatly altered, if you had really forgot him that
way."

" I tell you, Sir, honestly and fairly, there aint
a word of truth in saying, I didn't know him again ;
for I tell you I never saw him afterwards."

" Oh ! yes," sais I ; " I can tell you time and
place ; I can bring it to your mind exactly."

" When and where then ?" said she.

" This very day," said I, " in your own house,
and now here. I am the man ; and my name is
Sam Slick, the Clockmaker."

f.i

302

CHAT IN A CALM.

ii!

CHAPTER XV.

CHAT IN A CALM.

Having shipped Mr. Eldad Nickerson as a
pilot, and Mr. Peter Potter as a " hand," we set
sail for the settlement at Jordan. We were be-
calmed oif the entrance of the river ; and as we
lay motionless on the glassy surface of the sea,
we found ourselves at no great distance from an
Indian encampment on the extreme point of the
beach, from which several canoes issued in pursuit
of the porposes, which were revelling in a shoal of
herring. As these sleek, aldermen-lookin' fellows
rose to the surface in their roly-poly sort of way,
or leapt from the water to show their pretty
figures, (for even fish pride themselves on what

CHAT IN A CALM.

303

they haint got), they were shot at by the man in
the bow of the canoe, and the two in the stern
paddled with all their might in chase, while the
former exchanged his gun for a spear, and stood
ready to strike the crittur, and draw him in over
the bows, a slight of hand that nobody but an
Indian could perform in so totlish and danger-
ous a craft as a bark-canoe. The first fish that
was pursued, tho' hit by the ball, escaped the
spear, dived, and disappeared from view.

" Well done, feminine gender," said Eldad,
addressin' himself to the cabin party on the after
part of the deck, " well done, feminine gender,"
alludin' to the porpose ; " you gave Tony Cope,
the Indjin, the dodge that time any how. You
must put on more steam, Tony, if you want to
catch them ere sea-going craft • they have high-
pressure engines them navvies, and never bust
their boilers neither. He had better a gi'en in
tho' to you than run thro' the fleet, as she will
have to do now. You aint half such a savage,
Tony, as her own seed breed and generation isi —
that's my logic at any rate."

" How can you tell it's a female porpoise?" said
the captain.

" Ay," said I, " how can you say so at this
distance?"

•«"""wr«(«i a 1 1 1 1 III >

'l<n

304

CHAT IN A CALM.

" What will you bet ?" said the mate, " it's a
she porpoise ?"

" Five dollars," said the pilot. " Cover them,"
holding out the silver coins in his hand ; " cover
them," which was no sooner done than he quietly
put tnem into his pocket.

" Who shall decide," said the mate.

" I'll leave it to yourself," said Eldad, coolly.
" I'll take your own word for it, that's fair, aint
it ?"

" Well it is so, that's a fact."

" Jump overboard then, and swim off and see
if I aint right." The loud laugh of the men who
heard the catch, rewarded the joke. " But here is
your money," he said ; " I know it to be fact, and
a bet is only fair when there is a chance of losin'
that's my logic, at any rate."

" How do you know it then ?" said the
skipper.

" Because it stands to reason, to natur' and to
logic."

"Well, come," said the captain, "let us sit
down here and see how you prove the gender of
the fish by reason, natur and logic ?"

"Well," said Eldad," there is natur' in all
things. Among humans there is three kinds,
white natur', nigger natur', and Indjin natur ;

t's a

))

em,

cover

uietly

soolly.
r, aint

nd see
en who
here is
tct, and
losin'

d the

and to

us sit
ender of

in all
kinds,
natur ;

CHAT IN A CALM.

305

then there is fish natur', and horse natur', mus-
quito natur', and snakes natur', and he natur', and
she natur', at least that's my logic. Well, it's the
natur' of porpoirses, when a she one gets wounded,
that all the other porpoirses race right arter her,
and chase her to death. They show her no
marcy. Human natv' is the same as fish natur'
in this particler, and is as scaly too. When a woman
gets a wound from an p.rrow shot out by scandal,
or envy, or malice, or falsehood, for not keeping
her eye on the compass, and shapin' her course
as she ought to, men, women, and boys, parsons,
and their tea-goin' gossipin' wives, pious galls and
prim old maids, all start off in full cry like a pack
of bloodhounds arter her, and tear her to pieces ;
and if she earths, and has the luck to get safe into
a hole fust, they howl and yell round it every
time she shows her nose, like so many imps of
darkness. It's the race of charity, to see which
long-legged, cantin', bilious-lookin' crittur can be
in first at the death. They turn up the whites of
their eyes like ducks in thunder, at a fox-hunt, it's
so wicked ; but a gall-hunt they love dearly, it's
' servin' the Lord.' "

" But that still don't prove it's a female por-
poise," said Cutler.

" Yes it does," replied Eldad ; '^ they darn't

VOL. L X

306

CHAT IN A CALM.

sarve a man that way ; if they get up a hunt on
him ; he don't run, he shows fight ; he turns round
and says, ' Come on one at a time, and I'll
handle you, or two together, if you like, you
cowards, or all in a heap, and I'll fight till I die,
hut I won't run ;' that's he-natur, you see. Now
if the wounded porpoise was a male, wouldn't he
turn also, butt with his head and thrash with his
tail like a brave fellow ; he'd a seen 'em all shot
and speared first afore he'd run. No, the natur'
of a wounded gall and a wounded she-porperse is
to run for it ; so that fish is feminine-gender, ac-
cording to my logic. And now, captin," he con-
tinued, " I reckon it would be as well to order the
boat out, and we will give the ' Black Hawk' a pull
a few hundred yards further out. She is driftin'
too near that point, and the water shoals rapidly
there ; an ounce of precaution is worth a pound of
cure, at least, that's my logic."

" All right," said Cutler. " Mate, attend to the
orders of the pilot."

While this little operation was being performed,
the skipper and I paced the deck, and discoursed
on the subject of the pilot's analogy between
female porpoises and women. ^ ' '

" Is it true, Mr. Slick," said he, " that mankind
show so little charity to a woman, who is so un-

CHAT IN A CALM.

307

hunt on
■ns round

and rU
like, you
till I die,
e. Now
ouldn't he
1 with his
1 all shot
the natur'
porperse is
gender, ac-
," he con-
order the
awk' a pull
3 is driftin'
)als rapidly

a pound of

ttend to the

performed,

discoursed

ry between

iat mankind
is so un-

fortunate as tc attract observation ? I have moved
so little in the world, I was not aware of it, altho' I
know Scott says :

•* ' And ev'ry fault a tear can claim.
Except an erring sister's shame.

> i>

" It is a melancholy truth," said I ; " it is
cowardice in man, and cruelty in woman. It is
the worst trait in human natur', and the most
remarkable fact is that women, whose conduct is
not altogether free from blame, are the loudest in
their outcry. They yelp shriller than if they was
hit themselves. It is a bad sign. A woman who
wants a charitable hearty wants a pure mind.
The measure of a female's judgment must he her
own feelings ; and if she judge harshly, her
feelings are not delicate. Her experience is her
own, and if that is adverse, it ought at least to
impose silence. Innocence is not suspicious, but
guilt is always ready to turn informer. But
here is the pilot ; he is an odd chap, aint he ?
and a bit of a humourist, too. That fellow will
amuse us when we have nothin' to do."

When Eldad resumed his place, I took up the
conversation where he had left it.

" If the female creation," said I, " Mr. Nicker-
son, suffer parsecution sometimes, particularly

X 2

■ 1

i'i a

fi' '

308

CHAT IN A CALM.

women, perhaps it's as like as not they haint been
prudent ; but sometimes they give it to the males
properly, you may depend ; and they aint without
defence neither. If a woman aint able for a stand-
up fight, and her little hand aint no good to box,
her tiny fingers can clapper, ' law, and scratch,
like thorns flay a man alive a'most."

"Exactly," said Eldad; "they attend meetin'
oftner nor men, and have the ten commandments
at their fingers ends"

" Oh ! Mr. Nickerson," said Mr. Cutler, " that's
very irreverent."

" And then natur' has given her a tongue,"
sais I, " so loose and iley on its hinge, it's the
nearest thing in creation to perpetual motion. Oh !
if ever you was in a fish-market to London , you'd
hear 'em use it in perfection ! Don't the words
come easy, and such words too, no livin' soul
ever lieerd afore, not jaw-breakin' words, such as
black gentlemen use to show their knowledge of
dictionary, but heart-breakin' words, not heavy,
thick, and stinging. Why they call a feller more
names in a minit than would sarve half the Spa-
nish grandees, and one of them chap's names
cover the whole outside of a letter, and hardly
leave room for the place of direction at the eend
of it. Pretty names they use too do those fish-

CHAT IN A CALM.

309

women, only they have a leetle — just a leetlc — taint
about 'cm, and aint quite as sweet as stale fish.
There never was a man yet could stand them.
Well, if they can't fight, and are above slang, and
scorn scoldin', they can tease beautiful, drive a
man ravin' distracted mad.

" Did you ever see a horse race and chase ?
tear and bang, jump and kick, rnoan and groan,
round and round, over and over a paster' with his
mouth open, his nostrils spread wide, his eyes
starin' his tail up, his body all covered with foam,
and he ready to drop down dead? Well, that
great big critter aint hurt, he is only teased,
touched on the flank, and then in the ear, tickled
where the skin is thin, and stung where it is ofi".
Why its nothin' after all that does that but a
teasin', tormentin' hornet ; you couldn't do it
yourself with a whip, if you was to die for it.
Well, a woman can sarve a man the same way ;
a sly little jibe here, another touch there, now on
his pride, then on his faults, here on his family,
there on his friends, and then a little accidental
slip o' the tongue, done on purpose, that reaches
the jealous spot; away the poor critter goes at
that last sting, he can't stand it no more, he is
furious, and throws down his hat and kicks it (he
can't kick her, that aint manly), and roars and

310

CHAT IN A CALM.

I J;

€

bellows like a bull, till he can*t utter no more
words, and then off he goes to cool his head by
drivin' himself into a fever.

" Oh ! it's beautiful play that ; you may talk
of playin' a salmon arter he is hooked, and the
sport of seein' him jump clean out of the water in
his struggles, a-racin' off and being snubbed again,
and reeled up, till he is almost bagged, when
dash, splash, he makes another spring for it, and
away he goes as hard as he can lick, and out runs
the line, whirr-rr I and then another hour's play
afore he gives in.

" Well, it's grand, there's no doubt. It's very
excitin' ; but what is that sport to seein' a woman
play her husband. The wife too is just such
another little gaudy-lookin* fly as that which the
salmon was fool enough to be hooked with, and
got up just as nateral. Oh ! how I have watched
one of 'em afore now at that game. Don't she
enjoy it, the little dear, smilin' all the time like an
angel, most bewitchin' sweet ; bright, little eyes,
sparklin' like diamonds, and her teeth lookin' sa
white, and her face so composed, and not a breath
to heave her beautiful bosom, or swell her aller-
baster neck, but as quiet and as gentle throughout
as one of the graces ; and her words so sweet, all
honey, and usin' such endearin' names too, you'd

CHAT IN A CALM.

311

think she was courtin' amost. But the honey
makes the words stick, and the fond names cover
a sting, and some phrases that are so kind have a
hidden meaning that makes poor hubby jump
right on eend, and when he roars with pain and
rage, she lays down her pencil or her embroidery,
and looks up in surprise, for she was occupied
before, and didn't notice nothin'. Oh ! what a
look of astonishment she puts on.

" * Why my dearest love,' sais she, * what is the
matter with you, aint you well ? How wild you
look ! Has anything excited you ? Is there any-
thing in the world I can do for you ?'

" He can't stand it no longer, so he bolts. As
soon as he is gone, the little cherub wife lays back
her head and smiles.

" ' Succumb is a charming man, Mr. Slick, and
one of the kindest and best husbands in the world,
only he is a little touchy and hasty-tempered
sometimes, don't you think so ?'

" And then she goes on as cool as if nothin' had
happened, but casts round for a chance to let go
and laugh out. So she says —

" ' Pray, Mr. Slick, do tell me what sort of folks
the Bluenoses are. Is it true the weather is so
cold there, that their noses are blue all winter ?
Bluenoses! what a funny name !'

312

CHAT IN A CALM.

"That's the chance she was looking for, and
then she indulges in a laugh so hearty, so clear,
so loud and so merry, you'd think her heart was
so full of joy, it required that safety-valve to keep
it from bustin'.

" Oh ! I'd rather see a man played than a salmon
anytime, and if women are bad-used sometimes,
and can't help themselves in a general way, I
guess they are more than a match for the men
in the long run. But I was going to tell you
about the seals down Sable Island. They come
ashore there every now and agin to dry their
jackets, blow off steam, and have a game of
romps ; and what do you think them roguish,
coquettish, tormentin' imps of she ones do ? Why,
they just turn to and drive all the old buffers,
fathers, husbands, wrinkled bachelors, and guardian
uncles, further inland, and there they make them
stay by themselves, while they and the young gen-
tlemen, beaux seals ogle, and flirt, and romp about
like anything close to the water, where they can
give them the dodge if they get obstroperous. It
would make you die a larfin, if you was to see how
sulky the old fellers look, a-wipin' their ugly
mugs with their paws, shewing their teeth, at least
what is left of them, and gruntin' and growlin'
like politicians kicked out of office. I believe, in

CHAT IN A CALM.

313

my soul, they put them there a-purpnso to got rid
of them altogether ; for when the hunters come,
they rush right in between them young assembly-
men and them old senators, and attack the big
boys with great heavy-loaded sticks, and tumble
them over quick stick, and then the young ones
just take a dive for it, and enjoy the joke in
safety.

" Perhaps all natur can't show such a soft,
lovely, liquid eye as a young lady seal. It
seems as if flirtin', coquettin', ogiiu', rompin', and
larkin', was just what this was made for. Yes,
yes, natur balances all things admirably, and has
put the sexes and every individual of each on a
par. Them that have more than their share of
one thing^ commonly have less of another.
Where there is great strength, there aint apt to
he much gumption. A handsome man in a
gineral way aint much of a man.* A beautiful
bird seldom sings. Them that has genius have
no common sense. A feller with one idea grows

* That a pretty man has seldom much to recommend
him beyond his good looks, was a favourite maxim of
Martial. On one occasion he calls him a stony affair —
" Res petricosa est bellus bellus homo ;" and on another,
a weak man — " Qui bellus homo est, Cotta, pusillus homo
est." . -

314

CHAT IN A CALM.

richy while he who calls him a fool dies poor.
The world is like a baked-meat pie : the upper
crust is rich, dry, and puffy ; the lower crust is
heavy, doughy, and underdone. The middle is
not bad generally, but the smallest part of all is
that which flavours the whole"

" Well, that are a fact," said the Pilot ; " at
least, that's my logic."

" Now, Squire, I am going to give you my ideas
of the feminine gender in general. I flatter my-
self I know somethin' about them. As usual, I
suppose you will say * You do flatter yourself;
it's a bit of your Yankee brag.' Well, I am a
modest man, as I always say, when I know what
I am a-talkin' about ; and if I am wrong, perhaps
you wll set me right. Now, I do say, I know
somethin' of women. I aint a scientific man. I
warn't brought up to it ; and you never heard me
talk professor-like ; but I have studied the great
book of human natur, and have got it at my
fingers' ends, as dear old minister had his bible.
I can quote chapter and varse for all I say. I
read this book continually ; it's my delight : and I
won't turn my back on any one, when he talks of
that. I haint travelled for nothin', I haint listened
for nothin', I haint used a magnifyin' glass for
nothin', and I haint meditated for nothin'. Now,

CHAT IN A CALM.

315

;-*'

females I divide into three classes : first, petticoat
angels; second, women; and third, devils. Pet-
ticoat angels there are, beyond all doubt, the- most
exalted, the most pure, the most pious, the most
lovin', the most devoted ; and these angels are in
low degree as well as high ; they aint confined to
no station — prizes that clockmakers as well as
princes may draw. Is that Yankee brag ? Well,
then, there is women. Well, women commonly
are critters of a mixed character, in gineral more
good than bad about 'em, by a long chalk (for
men don't do 'em justice in talkin' of 'em), but
spoiled like Alleys in trainin'. The mouth is hard
irom being broke with too small a bit, or their
temper ruined by being punished when they don't
desarve it, or ontrue by being put to work they
can't stand, or aint fitted by natur for. There
never was a good husband that warn't a good
horseman f for the natur of the critters is just
alike. You must be gentle, kind, and patient, but
you must be firm, and when there is a fight for
mastery, just shew 'em its better not to act foolish.
Unless a critter is too old, and too headstrong, it's
a man's own fault if he can't manage t j make 'em
travel the road pleasantly. Is there any Yankee
brag in that ?
. Well, then, there are the devils. Well, some

316

CHAT IN A CALM.

ii&\

a.|( ij..

kick ; don't put 'em in harness agin, that's all ;
they are apt to cut their little pasterns, and hurt
your little gig. Some stop, and won't go. Treat
'em as I did a hoss oncu who wouldn't draw up
hill. I set off from Slickvillc once with a regular
devil to put her through her facin's, at three
o'clock in the mornin', and took hooks, and cigars,
and my dinner with me, to be ready for inaction,
as It was fine weather.

" Well two miles from hum was a high hill, and
as usual my hoss stopped short, lay back in the
breechin, and wouldn't budge an inch. She
thought she was a-goin' to have a regular-built
frolic, and I intended she should. She whisked
her tail, laid back her ears, and looked wicked, a-
thinkin' the more you wallop me, the more I won't
go ; and I'll upset you, and break a shaft if I can ;
but she didn't know what was in store for her.

" * Don't you hope you may get the chance ?"
saio I. .

" So I threw down the reins, lit my cigar, and
began to read, and took no more notice of her
than if she was in the stable. When twelve
o'clock came, she looked round as much as to say,
if you aint a-goin' to fight, will you make friends,
old boy ? Well, 1 took no notice, as much as to
say, go to the devil ; eat my dinner, and I turned

CHAT IN A CALM.

317

t's all;
id hurt
Treat
Iraw up
regular
t three
I cigars,
waction,

hill, and
: in the
She
ilar-built
whisked
eked, a-

I won't
if I can ;

her.
;hance ?"

igar, and
of her
1 twelve
IS to say,
e friends,
ich as to
I turned

to again, and began to read. Well as the sun was
goin' down, she began to get dreadful oneasy and
fidgetty, and to put one foot before the other, but
I stopped her, and called out, ' whoh !' At last she
got very impatient, but I held on till she should
take the word from mo. Finally, I took up the
reins, gave her a lick of the whip, and away she
went up the hill, as if she smelt oats at the top of
it ; «nd to show her what a fool she was, I drove
her twenty miles right straight on eend afore I
hauled up. She never baulked at a hill again.

" Well this is more trouble than they are worth
amost ; another time but we won't foller it up ;
it's too long a story to illustrate that way. Some
want to race off. Well a boss that has onct
run away in harness, will always do it again when
it gets a chance — slip the bridle over their head,
and let them go to old scratch ; they aint worth
foUering. Is that Yankee brag ? Well, perhaps,
it is. Give me your Blue-nose brag now. I say,
petticoat angels, women, and devils. Now what
is yoiu* division ? You are a College man, and I
aint ; you are a province man, and I am a man of
the world, which, tho' it aint quite as big as Nova
Scotia, is big enough for the likes of me. I know
your Halifax notions. You will say high and low,
genteel or vulgar, rich or poor. You are wrong,

riP

318

CHAT IN A CALM

Squire, a woman may be high and vulgar, and
there may be a person not quite so common, but
far above her, and worth a thousand such cattle,
called a ' poor lady.' If she is an angel — and I
maintain there are such — do as is writ in the
marriage-sarvice, ' with my body I thee worship.'
If she is a woman, say, ' with this caveson and
halter I thee break.' If she is a devil, lead her
to the door, take the bit out of her mouth, and
say, ' I'll make a fair division of the house with
you; I'll take the inside, and do you take the
outside, now cut and run, and be hanged to you.'
Now, Squire, as Eldad says, that's my logic at any
rate."

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

319

gar, and
mon, but
;h cattle,
1— and I
; in the
worship/
eson and
lead her
mth, and
Duse with
take the
. to you.'
ric at any

CHAPTEP, XVI.

THE SABLE ISLAND GHCST.

"Talking of the Isle of Sable," said Cutler,
** did you ever land there ? I should like amazin'ly
to visit it. I have seen it in the distance, but
never could spare time to go on shore. What an
interesting place it must be, from the melancholy
accidents that have occurred there."

" Yes," said T, " I have been there, and it's just
what you say, filled with solemncoly interest. The
cause and occasion of my goin' there was rather
a droll story. Onct when I was to Halifax, the
captain of the cutter said to me :

" ' Mr. Slick,' said he, ' I'm off to Sable Island.
What do you say to takin' a trip down there ?

Mil

320

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

;ii;,.

We are to have a wild-hoss chase, and that's
great sport. Come, what do you say ?'

" ' Well,' sais I, ' I'm most afeerd to go.'

" ' Afeerd !' said he, ' I thought you was afeerd
of nothin ? We always go to the leeward side of
the island, and we will whisk you thro' the surf,
without so much as sprinkhn' of your jacket.'

" ' Oh,' sais I ' it aint that. I am not afeered of
surfs or breakers, or anything of that kind. A
man like me that has hnded at Calcutta needn't
fear anything. I rather guess I could teach you a
dodge or two about surf you aint up to, tho' you
do go there so often.'

" ' Well,' sais he, ' what are you afeered on
then ?' and I saw him give a wink to one of the
commissioners, as much as to say, * Let us rig
him.'

" ' Why,' sais I, ' captin, our fishermen don't
mind the treaty a bit more than a governor's
proclamation and just fish were they please, and
trade in any harbour they like, and now and then
you nab one of them for it. Now I wouldn't like
to be on board of you, when you tried to seize a
vessel under our Everlastin' flag. It wouldn't
look pretty, nor sound pretty. I should have to
jump on board of our craft, and turn to and cap-
ture the cutter, take her up to Bostin' and get

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

321

that's

5 afeerd
i side of
:he" surf,
:et.'

feered of
:ind. A
1 needn't
Lch you a
tho' you

eered on
ne of the
et us rig

len don't

governor's

lease, and

and then

Idn't like
|to seize a

wouldn't
Id have to

and cap-

and get

her condemned, and that wouldn't convene. If
you succeeded, and me in your company, I couldn't
return home : and if I was to assist mv brother
Jonathans, I couldn't return here ; and, besides, I
like to let every feller grind his own axe. If it
warn't for that, it's just the thing I do like.'

" * Well,' said he, ' don't be skcered, I go
straight there and back. I aint on a cruise, and
Sable Island don't want cutters to frighten away
intruders. Its dangerous enough of itself to keep
folks off, who know what's what. I'll tell you what,
if ever you saw that are island when the sea was
wrathy, and heard the roar of the breakers on the
outer bar, one sheet of foam twenty-five miles long,
stretching away up into the air like a snow-wreath
in a whirlwind, you'd think you seed old Neptune's
head o' white hair, and whiskers, and heard him
call up all hands on deck to shorten sail. The island,
which is a long narrow sand-strip, when it's lashed
by the mountain waves trembles agin, as if it had
the ague, and you can't help thinkin' the fusu time
you feel it, that the sand will give to those evcrlastin'
blows, separate, and be swept away to leeward.
The fust night I spent there in a gale, I felt a
deuced sight more streaked than ever I did on
board ship in a hurricane.'

VOL. I. Y

MT'itmtmmm

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322

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

Iff

1 B

]

-'IB

11 ■•

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" ' Yes,' said I, fancyin' he was a tryin' the tem-
per of my narves, * it must have been grand.'

" The fact is, I didn't jist altogether hke the look
of his face, when I said 1 was afeerd to go, nor
his sly wink nother, they seemed as if they kinder
meant he thought I was cowardly; and then I
didn't like all that bunkum about old Neptune,
and the terrors of the storm, and so on, it sounded
braggy, so I thought I'd just clap on all steam
and go ahead of him, for whoever gets to wind-
ward of me had better try it on a river, or a har-
bour in a sloop-rigged clipperj have his mainsail
cut as flat as a board, luff all he can, hold on to
all he gets, and mind his weather eye. 1 don't
calculate in a gineral way to have the wind taken
out of my sails, so,' sais I (and in them days I was
a pretty extravagant feller to talk when I felt
dandery, I tell you), ' So,' sais I, ' I hope there
will be a ripper there, a regular ring-tailed roarer,
the night I land on the island. Then if a feller
was to jump bare-backed on his imagination,
throw away the reins, dig in the spurs — '

" ' You needn't do that,' said he ; ' there are
three hundred wild bosses there, catch one o' them
in the storm, and race off, if you have a fancy for
that sort o' scuddin' afore the wind with bare
poles?'

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

323

the tem-

the look
D go, nor
ey kinder
d then I
Neptune,
t sounded
all steam
to wind-
er a har-
; mainsail
lold on to
. 1 don't
ind taken
ays I was
len 1 felt
hope there
lied roarer,
if a feller
agination,

there are

Ine o' them

la fancy for

with bare

" ' Exactly,' sais I, ' I'm your man. Raise the
wind till it blows a tornado, catch me a boss, and
start me off at midnight, wind howlin', breakers
roarin', thunder crashin', lightnin' flashin', and me
a whoopin' and yelbn' like an Indgian dt^yil, and if
there is any echo, raise sounds like distant voices
of unburied thousands that lie hid in those shal-
lows ; it would wake the dead, make the wracks
start once more from their sandy beds, and sink
again with a kerwallup, like crocodiles jumpin' in
the river, or a steamer goin' down squensh. Here's
at you, old boy ; I'm your man. Here's for a
ghost-rider's gallop over skulls, skeletons, and
skippers ; a midnight lark to scare the wild bosses,
scatter the rabbits and rats, and make the owls
stare. I'll outrun you, outscreatch you, and out-
yell you, for a ten mile heat for five hundred
dollars. Come, what do you say to that stump ;
are you brought to a hack V

" * I wouldn't run a race of a mile,' said he, * at
midnight on that, onconsecrated grave-yard, for
a thousand pounds. I am a sailor, and I respect
the dead.'

" Oh, ho ! sais I to myself, I have cooled
you, have I ? Who is afeerd now ?

" ' And let me tell you, too,' said he, ' it's a
land of spirits.'

Y 2

■■

if'

111

11^

M vril'

lltil

324

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

" The fact was, he was superstitious.

" ' I could tell you some ghost stories that I
know to be true, that would make your hair stand
on eend. Did you ever hear of Dr. Copeland's
lady that appeared to the brave Captain Torrens,
of the 29th Regiment of the British army, or the
Paris gentleman, that appears always to wracked
Frenchmen, and complains of Henry the Fourth
of France, for takin his wife and banishin' him
there with a lot of convicts, so long ago as 1598 ?
or the old regicide that used it as a hidin '-place,
and lived and died there ? and on the 29th of
May, when Charles the First was beheaded,
marches about with a broad-brimmed hat on,
carries a drawn sword, and sings psalms through his
nose so loud you can hear him above the storm ?'

" ' No,' sais I, * I should like to see that man
amazin'ly. Our country was settled by Puritans,
and I would give anything to know what sort of
critters they were arter all, and ask some questions
to clear up history. Oh ! time it so as to be
there on the 29 th. If I could only see that
sainted sinner, talk to him, get his name, see his
dress, and hear his lingo, Fd make a fortin' out of
the critter.'

" ' Well, well,' said he, * come with me, and I
will tell you all these stories to pass time.'

THE SARLE ISLAND GHOST.

325

" ' Done !' sais I, ' I'm your man. I'd rather
raise that old regicide than raise a treasure ship.
Hurrah for Sable Island !' Thinks I : Old hoy,
who is afeerd now ? I warn't born in the woods
to be scared by an owl."

" Exactly," said Mr. Eldad, " who is afeerd ? A
man has but one life, and that he must lose some
day or another, any way he can fix it, and he
dont know how soon. He is a fool to be a
coward, therefore, because the time will come
when he can't help himself. Die he must. Now
if a feller had nine lives like a cat, they would be
worth takin' care of, because, in a general way,
he'd have a good stock left, and gracious knows
how long he might live. He could afford to be
timid like then, and it would be worth his while,
too, to take care of his lives. At least, that's my
logic."

*' I can't say much for the logic," sais I ; " but
your first idea of dyin' game aint a bad one, and
I won't nonconcur you.

" Well off we went, and a rael pleasant time
we had of it, too. Oh ! what fun we had a
chasin' of them wild bosses ! There was a herd
of three hundred of them, and we caught a lot
of them for the Halifax market, for they over-
stock the island now and then, and have to be

mimmimr

>**

326

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

thinned off. You have no Idcii what nice oatln*
vvihi hoss-meat is. It was the first time I ever
tasted any. I felt kinder skittish ut fust, but I
soon got used to it. It is somethin' between veal
and beef As for wild fowl, there is no eend to
them there."

** Did you sec a storm there ?" said Cutler.

" I guess I did," sais I; " and that's the reason
I staid there so long, for the captin had to get
on board quiek stick, up anchor, and off till it was
over. It was splendid, you may depend — awful,
perhaps, is the proper word. You fancy you hear
drowning men's voices in it, while the screams of
birds skuddin' home for shelter aint onlike those
of human beins.'*

" What sort of a lookin' place is it ?" said
he.

" As desolate, wild, and lonely a place," sais I,
" as ever you see. Its sand, just the colour of the
water, and can't be seen at no great distance on
that account. In the hollows scooped out by the
wind are whortleberry and cranberry bushes, in
shallower places is bent grass, and on the shores
wild peas ; but there aint a tree or a shrub on the
whole island. The sand drifts in a gale like snow,
and blows up into high cones. These dance
about sometimes, and change places ; and when

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

327

they do, they oncovcr dead hodies of poor critters
that have hcen overtaken there, th(5 Lord knows
when or how. There is a large lake in it fifteen
miles long."

" Why what is the extent of the island ?" bald
Cutler.

" About thirty miles," sais I ; ** and from one and
a half to two wide. It has the shape of a bow,
and tapers off at both ends. After the storm,
the superintendt!nt and I rode all round it.
When we come to the north end of the lake, we
got off, and fastened our nags to a sort of pound,
made of ship timber and drift stuff, that they
drive wild hossco into when they want to catch
them.

" * Now,' said he, ' sit down here, Mr. Slick,
and I'll tell you one of the strangest stories you
ever heard. In the year 1802, the ship Princess
Amelia was wracked off here, having the furniture
of the Queen's father, Prince Edward, on board,
and a number of recruits, sodger officers and their
wives, and women sarvants. There were two
hundred souls of them altogether, and they all
perished. About that period, some piratical vaga-
bonds used to frequent there, for there was no
regular establishment kept on the island then ;
and it's generally supposed some of the poor

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THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

people of that miiifortinate ship reached the shore
in safety, and wer3 murdered by the wrackers for
their property. Well, the Prince sends down
Captin Torrens — of the 29th regiment, I think
it was — from Halifax, to inquire after the missin'
ship ; and, as luck would have it, he was wracked
too, and pretty nearly lost his life in trying to
drag others through the surf, for he was a man
that didn't know what danger or fear either was,
except by name. There was but few that could be
rescued before the vessel went to pieces. Well,
he stationed them that survived at one eend of the
island, and off he goes to the other so as to extend
his look-out for aid as far as he could, but first
they had to bury the dead that floated from the
troop-ship, and gather up such parts of the
Prince's effects as came ashore, ' rd were worth
saving. It was an awful task, and took them
a long time, for the grave was as large as a
cellar amost. There they are, just where that
long bent grass grows. Having done this, and
findin' fire-arms in the Government shelter-hut,
off he goes alone to the other eend of the island.
One day, having made the circuit of the lower
half here, he returned about dusk to where we
now are. v

" * Where you see that little hillock, there was

THE SABL'i: ISLAND GHOST.

329

a small hut in those days, that had fireworks in
it, and some food, and chairs, and tahles, that
had been saved out of wracks, which were placed
there for distressed people ; and there were printed
instructions in French and English, telling them
what to do to keep themselves alive till they
could be taken off. Well, he made up a fire,
hauld down some hay out of the loft, and made
. up a bed in one corner, and ' went out to take a
walk along by the side of the lake, afore he
turned in. As he returned, he was surprised
to see his dog standin' at the door, lookin'
awfully skeered, growlin', barkin', and yelpin' like
mad. The first thing he saw inside was a lady
sittin* on one side of the fire, with long drippin'
hair hangin' over her shoulders, her face as pale as
death, and bavin' nothin' on but a loose soiled
white dress, that was as wet as if she had just
come out of the sea, and had sand stickin' to
it, as if she had been rolled over and over on
the breakers. Good Heavens, Madam, said
he, who are you, and where did you come
from?

" * But she didn't speak to him, and only held
up her hand before her, and he saw one of the.
fore-fingers was cut off", and was still bleedin*.
Well, he turned round, and opened a case that

330

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

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he had picked up in the mornin' from the drift
ship, ill which was materials for bandagin' the
wound, and was goin' to offer her some assistance,
when she rose up sudden, slipped past him, and
went out of the door and walked otF. Well, he
followed and called to her, and begged her to
stop ; but on she went, and thinkin' she was out
of her mind, he ran after her, and the faster
he went, the swifter she raced, till she came to
the lake, and dove right into it head fore-
most.

" * Well, he stood some time there considerin',
and ponderin' over what had happened, and at
last he strolled back, and sat down by the fire
a good deal puzzled. Arter studyin' it out for
some time, sais he: There can't be no mistake
here. That is not a ghost, nor a demented
person, but a murdered woman. If I catch a
wracker here, while I am on the island, I'll ask
no questions, but I'll shoot him as I would a
wolf. Poor thing, she wants me to tell her
friends I have seen her, and that she is actilly
dead; but who is she, and who are her folks?

But the finger, said he, that is very odd. I
suppose in putting up her hand to save her life,
it was cut off. Confound the villain, I wish
I could once get my eyes on him, and he

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

331

looked at the primin' of his gun, and wont out
and kneeled down, and takin' oif his hat held
his head close to the ground, to see if anybody
was a movin' between him and the horizon ; and
and findin' there warnt, and feelin' tired, for he
had been on his feet all day, he returned to the
hut again, and who should be there but the self-
same lady, in the self-same place.

" ' Now, said he to himself, don't go too near
her, it's evidently onpleasant to her ; but she
has some communication to make. Well, what
do you think, it's a positive fact, she held up
the mutilated hand again. He paused some time
afore he spoke, and took a good look at her,
to be sure there was no miotake, and to be able
to identify her afterwards, if necessary.

■' ' Why, sais he, after scrutenizin' of her (for
he was a man was the brave Captain Torrens,
that the devil himr.elf couldn't daunt), why,
sais he, it aint possible ! Why, Mrs. Copeland,
is that you ? for he knew her as well as I
know you. She was the wife of Dr. Copeland,
of the 7 th regiment, and was well known at
Halifax, and beloved by all who knowed her.
She just bowed her head, and then held up
her hand, and showed the bloody stump of her
finger.

332

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

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" * I have it, sais he, murdered for the sake
of your ring, — she bowed her head. Well,
sais he, I'll track the villain out, till he is shot
or hanged. Well, she looked sad, and made
no sign. Well, sais he, I'll leave no stone
unturned to recover that ring, and restore it to
your family.

" ' Well, she smiled, bowed her head, and rose
up and waved her hand to him to stand out
of the way, and he did, and she slipped by him,
and then turned and held up both hands, as if
she was pushin' some one back, and retreated
that way, makin' the same motion ; and he took
the hint, shut too the door, and sot down to
disgest this curious scene.

" * Now, that story is a postive fact,' sais the
superintendent. ' Them is the real names. My
father heard Torrens tell it word for word, as
I tell it to you ; and there is people now living
to Halifax, who knew him well, for he was a great
favourite with everybody. Just after that, there
was an awful storm, and j^nother wrack, and he
was mainly the means of saving the people at the
risk of his own life. His name is on the chart
as the * brave Captain Torrens,' the House of
Assembly voted him a large sum. of money, and
the Prince thought everything of him. I dare say

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

333

the Duchess of Kent has often heard the story,
and if she haiot — '

" * But about the ring ?' sais I.

" * Oh, yes ! ' said he, * that is the curiosest
part of it. Captain Torrens got hold of the names
of three of the most noted wrackers, and sot out
to track 'em to their hidin' places. One of them
lived to Salmon River, just about as solitary and
lonely a place as he could have found to escape ob-
servation. When the Captain got there, the feller
had gone away to Labrador. Well Torrens soon
knocked up an acquaintance with the family by
stayin' at the house, and makin' it his head-quarters
while he was fowlin' and fishin' in the neighbour-
hood. One evenin' he put on a splendid ring,
which he brought down for the purpose, so as to
draw the ^alk to the subject he wanted. The
eldest gall admired it greatly ; and he took it off,
and it was handed round, and commented on. At
last one of the darters said she didn't think it was
half so pretty as the one daddy got off the lady's
finger at Sable Island.

" * No, my dear, said the mother, who got
behind his chair to telegraph, he got it from
a Frenchman, who picked it up at the sand
there.

334

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

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i i

Oh ! I believe it was, said the girl, colour in'
up, and lookin' a little confused.

" ' Well at last the ring was handed back, and he
put it on his finger again ; and when he was
kinder pretendin' to be admiring it, sais he, care-
lessly:

" ' Show me your ring ; if it is as handsome as
this I'll buy it of you, for I am a great ring
fancier ; but I don't suppose it would go on my
great coarse finger — would it ? Where is it ?

" ' It's at Halifax, Sir, said she. The last
time daddy was there, he left it with a watch-
maker to sell. Hfc gave him twenty shillings on it,
and told him if it fetched more he should have it.

" ' Oh,' said he, quite unconsarned, ' it's no
matter.'

" * Oh, yes ! it is. Sir, said she, for it's a
most beautiful one j you had better buy it, and she
described it most minutely.

" ' He was quite satisfied ; and arter breakfast
the next mornin' he started for Halifax as fast as
he could. Well the town warn't then what it is
now. Two watchmakers was all that was in it,
so a search couldn't last very long any how ; but
in the window of the first shop he went to was
the identical ring. Sais he to the shopman :

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

335

" ' Friend, sais he, give me the history of that
ring, as fiir as you know ahout it.

" Well the account was just what he had heard
himself, omittin' of course all mention of the
finger. Says he :

" ' Give it to me ; here are the twenty shillinnrs
advanced ; and if the owner wants more, toll him
to bring the finger that was cut off to get at it, and
then come to me.

" ' Well it was identified at once by the ladies of
the regiment, and some of the doctor's brother
officers ; and the moment the Prince saw it, he
knew it, for it was a curious old family ring, and
the Captain sent it to England to Mrs. Copeland's
friends. Torrens was ordered home soon after
that, and there the matter dropt.'

" That's a strange story," said the skipper ;
" what do you think of it, Mr. Slick?"

" Why," sais I, " it seems to come very straight,
and looks as if it was true ; and nothin' ouglit to
be considered impossible because it is oncommon.
The main thing is how a story is vouched, and
whether the man who tells it is credible. All de-
pends on that. . When a feller sais he saw an
apparition he may be deceived ; his eyes, or the
state of his stomach, operatin' on his vision, or his
fancy, or perhaps his fears, mav make him think

336

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

i t

he saw it when he didn't. But if an apparition
appears to him, not in bed, when he may mistake
a dream for a reality, but when he is wide awake
and in good health, and gives him information,
and he acts on it, and the information turns
out correct, why then I think you may believe
him."

*' Well," says Eldad, " that story is as true
as Gospel, for I've heard it from Mr. Colling-
wood's father, who was with the Prince at the
time, and saw the ring himself; and more than
that, I could tell you the name of the wracker, but
I won't, for some of his descendants are still
living, and are decent people. I have seen the old
coon several times, and the devil himself with all
his arts and insinevations never could coax him
out of the house arter dark."

" Exactly," sais I, " Eldad, that's conscience ;
and, in my opinion, conscience is the devil. His
court is hardly a fair one, for he fills three offices
at orict. He is witness, judge, and executioner.
Conscience is a witness, and testifies agin a feller ;
it is a judge too, and knows the evidence is true,
and it is an executioner, and has no marcy. It
don't punish a feller right off, and ha' done with
it, but it keeps torturin' poor sinners all the time.
Depend upon it, many .and many a night it woke

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

337

up that old wracker out of a sound sleep with a
dig on his ribs, and said : ' I say, old feller, how
are you off for rings ? You hainte got are a spare
finger to part with, have you ? for I want one to
point at a murderer with, and mine's tired out.'
Well then it kinder relents, lets the poor misfor-
tunate crittur go to sleep agin; and when he
begins to snore, gives a dyin' screetch in his ear
that fetches him up on his feet in a moment, and
he rubs his eyes half 3tupid with fright and drowsi-
ness, and sais : * I wish to Heavens 1 was out of
this cussed island,' and he lights his candle, turns
in again, and goes to sleep once more ; for ghosts
don't come in where there is light in a general
way. Well he dreams (for conscience is a dab
at makin' fellers act tragedies over in their
dreams), and he dreams he is awful hungry, and
come home just in time for dinner, and there is a
beautiful meat-pie on the table that smells so nice,
he actilly feels his mouth water, and he cuts the
crust, puts the spoon in it, and out comes a long
white finger with a beautiful ring on it. Eldad,
that is wus than being hung — ain't it ? Depend
on it, Pilot, as I said before, conscience is the
devil."

" Yes," said he, " it's wus than the gailus, if you
are quite sure the same thing hantc to be gone

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THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

over again on dead man's h" J, But Mr. Slick,"
said ho, " you describe that so peeowerful, you
must have suflfercd yourself, I guess, from con-
science."

" Well, I have," sais I. "I wont deny it, for
I should tell a lie if I did. You know, ' if we
sav we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us.' I do actillv dream sometimes
of an onsound horse I have put oiF afore now on
a feller, or a critter that would run away, or a
clock that wouldn't go ; and I won't deny the
memory of these things does trouble me now and
agin in my dreams, and I wake up almost chokin'
with laughin' at the thought of it."

"Mr. Slick," said the pilot, " you jtc a droll
man. Nothin' seems to make an impression on

you."

" Don't it," sais I ; and I turned to Cutler, for
I knew Eldad couldn't take my meanin'. " My
mind is like nater'," sais I. "The dark shaders
and deep lines are in the right place, but the
strong lights and bright sky are also where they
ought to be, I hope. But come, Mr. Nickerson,"
said I, " I have told you my ghost story, now do
you spin us a yarn if you have a rael depend-
able one; if not, we will talk of something
else."

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

339

"Well," said ho, "I'll tell you one that I
knowed myself, for I was on board the vessel at
the time. I was mate onet of a hrij^ of Colonel
Freeman's, of Liverpool, Nova Scotia, that was
commanded by Captain James Taylor, for I'll give
you the real names of the parties — and we had
just come back from the West Indies. On our
return, we arrivcid off the entrance of the harbour
a considerable piece arter daylight-down, when the
wind fijiiled us, and we dropt anchor there. It
was a most beautiful moonhght night. I guess
you knew Captin James Taylor, didn't you ?"

" Yes," said I, "I knew him ; and a better
shipmaster, or a better man, never trod in shoe
leather."

" Well," he said, " he would go ashore and
walk up to the town, which was about two miles
off; and he left me in charge, with orders to get
under weigh as soon as the night breeze sprung
up, and two hands got into the boat, and set him
ashore. Well, he crossed over into the main road,
and made for home. As he neared Liverpool, he
came opposite to old Mr. Parker's farm, where a
man of the name of Trots lived as a tenant. The
furst person he saw was old Trots himself,
who was lame, standing out in front of the
door.

z 2

340

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

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1 'fl '

" ' How are you, Trots ?' said he. * Give me
a drink of water, that's a good fellow.*

" Well, the old chap didn't answer, so he
repeated it louder; hut the critter wouldn't
speak.

" ' What in natur' ails you ?' said he ; and he
went close up to him, and called out agin, at the
tip eend of his voice : ' Give me a glass of water,
old feller, will you ?'

" Trots stared him in the face, and neyer said
a word, or offered to move. Now, as the Captain
was in a hurry, and it was gettin' late, he turns
out into the road quick, just leaving a parting
tough word for the old man to digest, and thought
no more about it. In the mornin', he goes to
Colonel Freeman to report the vessel, and tell him
about the sale of his lumber and fish, and so on,
in the West Indies.

" Says the Colonel, * Jemmy,' sais he' (for he
was a great hand for patronisin' smart young
men, and a putting of them forward in the
world), * did you see anything of my servant
on the road last night.'

" ' No !' said he, ' the only man I saw was old
Trots ; and he — '

" * Pooh !' said he, * Trots ! why Trots has
been dead and buried these three weeks.'

THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

341

Givo mc

r, so he
wouldn't

e ; and he
;in, at the
s of water,

neyer said
he Captain
te, he turns
a parting
nd thought
he goes to
nd tell him
and so on,

he* (for he
nart young
ard in the
my servant

saw was old

Trots has

s.'

" ' Why how you talk !' said the captin ; and he
jumps up and tells him the whole story.

"Just then, who should come into the countin'-
liouse hut Captin Dewal, of Liverpool, and said
he:

" * Colonel, did you hear about Trots ?*

" ' What's that ?' said Taylor, in astonishment,
for he knew he had told no one the story.

" * Why,* said he, ' Trots was at his old house
last night, and appeared to Murphy.'

" Murphy was another tenant vho had moved
into the house after Trot's death, and he woke
him up.

" ' Murphy,' sais he, ' in three days you will
be where I am.*

" The poor critter was as well at the time as I
am now, but sure enough, in three days, he was
as dead as a herrin'. What do you think of that,
Mr. Slick ? Can you account for it ?"

" Yes," sais I, " as easy as kiss my hand. It
was a moonlight night. Now, as the captin
knew Trots lived there when he went to the
West Indies, it's nateral he should take a shadow
of a gate, post, or somethin' or another for him,
and think he actilly saw him. That will account
for that part of it. Now suppose Mui-phy had
taken a glass of grog extra that night, or a

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THE SABLE ISLAND GHOST.

pound of poxV more than common, got the night-
mare, and fancied old Trots was a sittin a
^op of him, got scared at the dream, and died
out of fright. That will account for t'other part
of it."

"You may imagine anything," said Cutler;
" hut accordin' to that way of reasonin', all human
testimony would he an illusion, and no one could
ever he convicted. I helieve that story 5rmly."

" So do I believe it firmly, too," said I ; " hut
he didn't ask me if I believed it, he asked me if
I could account for it ; and I never allow myself
to be stumped, so 1 just give him reasons he
didn't think of. Yes, I believe it too, for Cap-
tain Taylor is as brave a man as ever Captain
Torrens was, as little likely to be deceived, and a
man of undoubted veracity. Yes, I believ'c it."*

I' !;

■♦' These two stories are given with the real names.
The first is well known to an officer of the 7th, still Hving,
who was intimately acquainted with the parties ; and all
those persons named in the second, were well known to
myself. — Author.

END OF VOL. \.

LONDON :

Printed by Schuize and Co., 13, Poland Street.

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