YANKEE NOTIONS
P. 94,
"/jr//<>;;/ fiurdock was a bitter matt. "
YANKEE NOTIONS.
A MEDLEY.
BY TIMO. TITTERWELL, ESQ.
Just a bit of cold beef, a slice of bread and ale. Walk in
gentlemen.— Old Flay.
SECOND EDITION.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY D. C. JOHNSTON,
BOSTON:
OTIS, BROADERS AND COMPANY
1838.
Entered according to Act of Congre?s'in the year 1837,
By Otis, Broaders & Co.
fn the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
Prest of Tuttle, Dennett & Chisholm — 17 School Street.
PREFACE
Prefaces, gentle reader, are com-
monly tiresome things : the less therefore
I say in this part, the better. But, a
preface there must be to my book, as the
neglect of such an introductory salutation
would be like not making a bow on going
into company : and as Don Quixote re-
marks, " there is nothing cheaper than
civility."
I have written this book for many rea-
sons, every one of which you may be
sure of, in five minutes guessing. As to
the character of it, I may as well inform
the reader in the very outset, that it is
not designed to be popular, or consonant
to the reigning taste of our reading and
947319
VI PREFACE.
writing community. Most of the books
now written among us, exhort people to
wear long faces, save their money, cramp
their souls, starve their bodies, besot
their intellects, and be most dismally wise
in all sorts of cool, calculating ways.
Now the reader will find nothing of this
sort in the following work ; therefore his
best way will be to throw it aside at once,
in case he expects me to follow in the
track of our great American authors. 1
frankly confess that I lack both the am-
bition and the ability to imitate the pro-
found philosophy of "Moral Hydrosta-
tics," the sentimental beauties of " Kitty
Spriggins," and the moral sublimity of
" My Mother's Pewter Porringer."
No, gentle reader, I hold with old King
Solomon, that if there be a time to weep,
there is also a time to laugh ; and in my
opinion this is the very time. I shall do
PREFACE. VII
my best to make you merry ; laugh there-
fore while you may. The worst thing for
a man's health is melancholy, but a good
joke helps digestion and promotes longevi-
ty. A good joke, like a good sherris sack,
hath a twofold operation. It ascends me
into the brain ; dries me there all the
foolish and dull and crudy vapors which
environ it ; makes it apprehensive, quick,
forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, delectable
shapes, which acting slily and sympa-
thetically upon the corners of the mouth,
produce hearty, jovial, honest laughter.
The other property of your excellent
joke is, the warming of the blood, which
before, cold and settled, left the face
long, the heart lumpish, the looks dump-
ish, and the whole inward and outward
man most dismally frumpish ; — all which
are the badge of pusillanimity, cynical
sourness, and pseudo-sapient self-conceit,
Vlll PREFACE.
But the joke warms it, and makes it course
from the inwards to the parts extreme,
mollify the heart, tickle the ribs, expand
the pericardium, inspirit the lungs, light
up the bosom, clear the oesophagus, lu-
bricate the tongue, inspire the brain,
sublimate the cerebellum, titillate the
skull-bone, vivify the spinal marrow and
quicken the whole nervous system : so
that man being jolly, becometh perforce,
generous, forgiving, liberal, communica-
tive, frank, inquisitive, sympathetic, hu-
mane and pious : and doeth noble deeds
without end. And thus goodness, mer-
cy, munificence, public spirit, patriotism,
and the whole host of social virtues and
christian charities come of joking. If I
had a thousand sons, the first human
principle I would teach them, should be
to forswear doleful dumps and addict
themselves to fun.
preface:. ix
But I grieve to say, gentle reader,
people are not half so merry as they
used to be. Alas ! how much occasion
have we to exclaim with Panurge,
" Toutes les bonnes coutumes se per dent : le
monde ne fait plus que rever ! " In times
when our old grandmothers wore gold
beads, hoop petticoats, and high-heeled
shoes, folks were vastly more jovial than
at present. They did not look upon it as
vulgar to go to a frolic, immoral to laugh,
or suicidal to eat and drink what was
comfortable ; — honest souls, they knew
nothing of the march of intellect, and
had no transcendental wiseacres to give
them lectures against common sense, and
teach them to be metaphysically misera-
ble, or starve them by scientific rules, or
stiffen their morality with any " three
experiments of starching/'
I would give many a sugar-cane
To see three-corner'd hats again.
X PREFACE*
Now this decline of merriment has
been the cause of nine tenths of all the
evils we suffer at the present day. What
makes people dyspeptical, hypochondria-
cal, apoplectic, envious, rabid, fanatical,
factious, quarrelsome, selfish, consump-
tive and short-lived ? The doctors say
this and that, but they know nothing
about it. Politicians and metaphysicians
reason and speculate, but they cannot
find out. The true cause is that afore-
mentioned chilliness of the blood, occa-
sioned by the want of good merriment.
Nothing else, depend upon it : for since
good jollity has declined, nothing has gone
on rightly among us. How came the
heroes of seventysix to fight so valiant-
ly to the tune of Yankee Doodle ? —
Why, simply because Yankee Doodle is a
jolly, jigging, mirth-exciting tune.
Quien canta, sus males espanta.
PREFACE. XI
Gentle reader, take my word for it, —
food is necessary to life, whatever march-
of-intellect folks and quack doctors may
say to the contrary. Mirth is necessary
to happiness, whatever your vinegar-
faced, puritanical wiseacres may preach
about the moral beauty of melancholy,
and the delights of being dismal. I do
seriously advise you, reader, not to starve
yourself, not to hang yourself, — my life
for yours ; — and not to believe that
starvation and suicide are the great pur-
poses of human life, although these prin-
ciples are so strongly inculcated by the
moral reformers and march-of-mind fana-
tics, who are attempting to grind the
world over anew with the gimcrack ma-
chinery of their crazy systems. No sys-
tem is worth a cherry-stone but this —
Laugh when you can : — be sober when you must,
For doleful dumps soon turn a man to dust.
If any man finds fault with it,"and longs,
XII PREFACE.
like Master Simon, for a three-legged
stool to be melancholy upon ; — much
good may it do him. The worst I wish
him for his perversity, is that he may
join a temperance society, and be soused
in cold water till he is seven times cod-
dled.
Gentle reader, I have tried my best to
be original in the following pages, by
which you will probably understand that
I have not stolen above half of the ma-
terials. " Convey, the wise it call."
Original, did I say ? — How could I hope
for success, knowing that five hundred
thousand persons have written stories
before me, and used up everything ?
Nevertheless, should any wiseacre pre-
tend to discover that my book is an
imitation of Robinson Crusoe, Tristram
Shandy, Clarissa Harlowe, Goody Two
Shoes, or the Pilgrim's Progress, I must
PREFACE. Xlll
needs tell him, he is under a very great
mistake.
Perhaps too, you expect me to apolo-
gize for this publication, and to declare,
by way of deprecating criticism, that I
think very meanly of the work. I shall
do no such thing. First, because you
would not believe me. Secondly, be-
cause I do not believe so myself. Truly,
if I had not some good opinion of the
book, I should not send it to the press,
and hazard the publisher's cash and my
own comfort.
To speak the plain truth, which a pre-
face rarely does, I shall be quite as much
astonished as grieved, to learn a twelve-
month hence, that the greater part of
this edition has been used to singe tur-
keys or burn a sooty chimney. Yet any
critic is at liberty to find fault with the
book ; and when he tells me that he
2
XlV PREFACE.
finds the work full of blemishes, the in-
vention feeble, the style poor, and the
sentiments trivial, I have an answer ready
by telling him that I knew all this be-
fore ; and like Steele in the Tatler, let
me say, " if anything in this work is
found to be particularly dull, the reader
is informed there is a design in it." I
have endeavored to serve up a variety of
dishes, to please a variety of tastes. Still
if any there be, who choose to travel
from Dan to Beersheba, and call it all
barren, I must e'en take my leave of
them as the Archbishop did of the un-
lucky Gil Bias, wishing them all manner
of happiness and a better taste.
I am,
Gentle reader,
Yours truly,
TIMO. TITTERWELL.
Merry-Go-Nimble Court — No. 2, round the corner, )
Next door to the fat man's. $
CONTENTS
Sonnet to Mirth, - - - - 17
My First and Last Speech in the General Court, 18
Biography of a Broomstick, - - S4
Ode to the South Pole, - 66
The Age of Wonders, ... 69
Our Singing School, ... 76
Benoni Burdock, - - - 94
Death and Doctor Sawdust, - - 101
Thoughts on Seeing Ghosts, - - 111
Josh Beanpole's Courtship, - - 119
Metaphysics, - - - - - 136
Rime of the Ancient Pedler, - - 146
Voyage of Discovery through the Streets of
Boston, - - - - 153
The Science of Starvation, - - 165
Decline and Fall of the City of Dogtown, - 173
Proceedings of the Society for the Diffusion
of Useless Knowledge, - - 18S
XVI CONTENTS.
Boston Lyrics, - 196
Bob Lee. A Tale, - - - - 198
Horace in Boston, Epodon Od. ii. - 220
The Dead Set, - - - - 223
Horace in Boston, Lib. ii. Od. xvi. - 236
The Two Moschetoes, - - 239
V Envoi, ----- 252
SONNET TO MIRTH,
Come, gentle spirit of ethereal kind,
Nymph of the radiant brow, whose rosy smile
With soft enchantment sweetly could beguile
To frolic fancy, Shakspe are's glorious mind.
Goddess, whose witching spell has intertwin'd
Dull mortal clay with fire from heavenly skies ;
Thou cherub sprite, whose sweet and sunny eyes
Brighten'd the dungeon where Cervantes pined.
Grant me a draught from thy life-kindling bowl ;
Around my pen flit hovering, and inspire
With strains of sparkling joy my genial soul,
And fill my brain with fun-provoking fire ;
Come, and my glowing heart shall wanton free,
And flow a fountain of perennial glee.
MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH IN THE
GENERAL COURT.
BY TOBIAS TURN1PTOF,
EX-REPRESENTATIVE FROM THE TOWN OF SQ.UASHBOROUGH.
If I live a thousand years, I shall never
forget the day I was chosen representative.
Isaac Longlegs ran himself out of a year's
growth to bring me the news, for I staid away
from town meeting out of dignity, as the way
is, being a candidate. At first I could n't be-
lieve it, though when I spied Isaac coming
round Slouch's • corner with his coat-tails
flapping in the wind, and pulling straight a-
head for our house, I felt certain that some-
thing was the matter, and my heart began to
bump, bump so, under my jacket, that 't was
a wonder it did n't knock a button off. How-
ever, I put on a bold face, and when Isaac
came bolting into the house, I pretended not
to be thinking about it.
" Lieutenant Turniptop ! " says Isaac,
" huh, huh ! You 've got the election ! "
MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH, ETC. 19
44
Got what ? " says I, pretending to be sur-
prised, in a coolish sort of a way.
" Got the election ! " says he, " all hollow ;
you've got a majority of thirteen — a clear
majority — clean, smack-smooth, and no two
words about it ! "
" Pooh ! " says I, trying to keep cool,
though at the same time I felt all over — I
can't tell how, only my skin did n't seem to
fit me. " Pooh ! " says I again ; but the idea
of going into public life, and being called
" Squire Turniptop," was almost too much for
me. I seemed to feel as if I was standing on
the tip-top of the north pole, with my head
above the clouds, the sun on one side and the
moon on the other. " Got the election ? " says
I ; u ahem ! hem ! hem ! " And so I tried to
put on a proper dignity for the occasion, but it
was hard work. "Got a majority ?" says I
once more.
" As sure as a gun," says Isaac, " I heard it
with my own ears. Squire Dobbs read it off to
the whole meeting — c Tobias Turniptop has fif-
tynine, and — is — chosen ! ' "
I thought I should have choked ! six mil-
lions of glorious ideas seemed to be swelling
up all at a time within me. I had just been
reading Doctor Growler's sermon on the end
20 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
of the world, but now I thought the world was
just beginning.
" You 're representative to the Gineral Court !"
said Isaac, striking his forefinger into the palm
of his left hand, with as much emphasis as if a
new world had been created. I felt more mag-
nanimous than ever.
" I shan't accept," said I. (The Lord
pardon me for lying.)
" Shan't accept ! " screamed out Isaac, in
the greatest amazement, with his great goggle
eyes starting out of his head. " Shall I go
back and tell them so ?-"
" I mean I '11 take it into consideration,"
said I, trying to look as important as I could.
" It 's an office of great responsibility, Isaac,"
said I, " but I '11 think of it, and after due
deliberation — if my constituents insist upon
my going, Isaac, what '11 you take to
drink ? "
I could not shut my eyes to sleep all that
night, and did nothing but think of the General
Court, and how I should look in the great
hall of the statehouse, marching up to my
seat, to take possession. I determined right
off, to have a bran new blue coat with brass
buttons ; but on second thought I remembered
hearing Colonel Crabapple say that the mem-
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 21
bers wore their wrappers. So I concluded that
my pepper and salt coat with the blue satinet
pantaloons, would do very well. I decided
though, to have my drab hat new ironed, and
countermanded the orders for the cowhide
boots, because kip-skin would be more gen-
teel. In addition to this, because men in pub-
lic life should be liberal, and make a more
respectable appearance than common folks, I
did n ; t hesitate long in making up my mind
about having a watch chain and an imitation
breast-pin. " The check handkerchief," thinks
I to myself, " is as good as new ; and my pigtail
queue will look splendidly if the old ribbon is a
little scoured ? "
It can't be described how much the affairs
of the nation occupied my mind all the next
day and three weeks afterwards. Ensign
Shute came to see me about the Byfield pigs,
but I could n't talk of anything but my legis-
lative responsibilities. u The critters beat all
natur' for squealing," says he, " but they cut
capitally to pork." — "Ay," says I, u there
must be a quorum before we can do any busi-
ness."— u The old grunter," says he, " will
soon be fat enough to kill." — " Yes," says I,
" the speaker has the casting vote." — " Your
new pig-pen," says he, " will hold 'em all."
22 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
— " I shall take my seat," says I, u and be
sworn in, according to the constitution." —
" What 's your opinion of corn-cobs ? " says
he. " The governor and council will settle
that," says I.
The concerns of the whole commonwealth
seemed to be resting all on my shoulders as
heavy as a fiftysix, and everything I heard
or saw made me think of the dignity of my
office. When I met a flock of geese on the
schoolhouse green with Deacon Dogskin's old
gander at the head, " There," says I, u goes
the speaker and all the honorable members."
This was talked of up and down the town,
as a proof that I felt a proper responsibility ;
and Simon Sly said the comparison of the
geese was capital. I thought so too. Every-
body wished me joy of my election, and
seemed to expect great things ; which I did
not fail to lay to heart. So having the eyes
of the whole community upon me, I couldn't
help seeing that nothing would satisfy them
if I did not do something for the credit of the
town. Squire Dobbs, the chairman of our
selectmen, preached me a long lecture on
responsibility ; " Lieutenant Tuniptop," says
he, u I hope you '11 keep up the reputation of
Scjuashborough,"
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 23
" I hope I shall, Squire," says I, holding
up my head, for I felt my dignity rising.
" It 's a highly responsible office, this going
to the Gineral Court," says he.
" I 'm altogether aware of that," says I,
looking serious ; " I 'm aware of that, totally
and officially."
" I 'm glad you feel responsible," says he.
" I 'm bold to say that I do feel the respon-
sibility," says I — u and I feel more and more
responsible, the more I think of it."
" Squashborough," says the Squire, " has
always been a credit to the common-
wealth — "
"Who doubts it ?" says I.
" And a credit to the Gineral Court," says
he.
" Ahem ! " says I.
" I hope you '11 let 'em know what 's what,"
says he.
" I guess I know a thing or two," says I.
" But, says the Squire, " a representative
can't do his duty to his constituents without
knowing the constitution. It 's my opinion
you ought not to vote for the dog-tax."
"That 's a matter that calls for due delib-
eration," says I. So I went home and began
to prepare for my legislative duties. I studi-
24 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH.
ed the statute on cart-wheels, and the act in
addition to an act entitled an act.
People may sit in their chimney-corners
and imagine it 's an easy thing to be a repre-
sentative, but this is a very great mistake.
For three weeks I felt like a toad under a
harrow, such a weight of responsibility as I
felt on thinking of my duties to my constitu-
ents. But when I came to think how much
I was expected to do for the credit of the
town, it was overwhelming. All the repre-
sentatives of our part of the county had done
great things for their constituents, and I was
determined not to do less. I resolved, there-
fore, on the very first consideration, to stick to
the following scheme.
To make a speech.
To make a motion for a bank in Squashbo-
rough.
To move that all salaries be cut down one
half except the pay of the representatives.
To second every motion for adjournment, —
And
Always to vote against the Boston mem-
bers.
As to the speech, though I had not exactly
made up my mind about the subject of it, yet
I took care to have it all written before hand.
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 25
This was not so difficult as some folks may
think ; for, as it was all about my constitu-
ents and responsibility and Bunker Hill and
heroes of seventysix and dying for liberty, it
would do for any purpose, with a few words
tucked in here and there. After I had got it
well by heart, I went down in Cranberry
Swamp, out of hearing and sight of anybody,
and delivered it off, to see how it would go.
It went off in capital style, till I got nearly
through, when just as I was saying, " Mr
Speaker, here I stand for the Constitution, "
Tom Thumper's old he-goat popped out of
the bushes behind, and gave me such a butt
in the rear, that I was forced to make an ad-
journment to the other side of the fence, to
finish it. After full trial, I thought best to
write it over again, and put in more respon-
sibility, with something about " fought, bled
and died."
When the time came for me to set off for
Boston, you may depend upon it I was all of
a twitter. In fact, I did not exactly know
whether I was on my head or my heels. All
Squashborough was alive : the whole town
came to see me set out. They all gave me
strict charge to stand up for my constituents
and vote down the Boston members. I pro-
3
26 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
mised them I would, "for I 'm sensible of my
responsibility," says I. I promised, besides,
to move heaven and earth to do something
for Squashborough. In short, I promised
everything, because a representative could not
do less.
At last I got to Boston ; and being in good
season, I had three whole days to myself be-
fore the session opened. By way of doing
business, I went round to all the shops, pre-
tending I wanted to buy a silk handkerchief.
I managed it so as not to spend anything,
though the shopkeepers were mighty sharp,
trying to hook me for a bargain ; but I had
my eye-teeth cut, and took care never to offer
within ninepence of the first cost. Sometimes
they talked saucy in a joking kind of a way,
if I happened to go more than three times to
the same shop ; but when I told them I be-
longed to the General Court, it struck them
all of a heap, and they did not dare to do any-
thing but make faces to one another. I think I
was down upon them there.
The day I took my seat, was a day of all
the days in the year ! I shall never forget it.
I thought I had never lived till then. Giles
Elderberry's exaltation when he was made
hog-reeve, was nothing to it. As for the pro-
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 27
cession — that beat cock-fighting ! I treated
myself to half a sheet of gingerbread, for I felt
as if my purse would hold out forever. How-
ever, I can't describe everything. We were
sworn in, and I took my seat, though I say it
myself. I took my seat : all Boston was there
to see me do it. What a weight of responsi-
bility I felt !
It beats all nature to see what a difficulty
there is in getting a chance to make a speech.
Forty things were put to the vote and passed,
without my being able to say a word, though
I felt certain I could have said something upon
every one of them. I had my speech all ready
and was waiting for nothing but a chance to
say " Mr Speaker," but something always put
me out. This was losing time dreadfully —
however, I made it up seconding motions, for
I was determined to have my share in the
business, out of regard for my constituents.
It 's true I seconded the motions on both sides
of the question, which always set the other
members a laughing, but says I to them,
" That 's my affair, how do you know what
my principles are ?" At last two great ques-
tions were brought forward, which seemed to be
too good to lose. These were the Dogtown
turnpike, and the Cart-wheel question. The
28 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
moment I heard the last one mentioned, I felt
convinced it was just the thing for me. The
other members thought just so, for when it
came up for discussion, a Berkshire member
gave me a jog with the elbow, " Turniptop,"
says he, " now is your time. Squashborough for-
ever !" No sooner said than done ; I twitched
off my hat and called out u Mr Speaker !"
As sure as you live, I had caught him at
last ; there was nobody else had spoken quick
enough, and it was as clear as preaching, I
had the floor. u Gentleman from Squashbor-
ough !" says he, — I heard him say it ! " Now,"
thinks I to myself, " I must begin, whether or
no." " Mr Speaker," says I again ; but I on-
ly said it to gain time, for I could hardly be-
lieve that I actually had the floor, and all the
congregated wisdom of the commonwealth
was listening and looking on ; the thought of
it made me crawl all over. " Mr Speaker,"
says I, once more. Everybody looked round
at me. Thinks I to myself a second time,
u there 's no clawing off, this hitch. I mus^
begin ; and so here goes !"
Accordingly I gave a loud hem ! and said
"Mr Speaker," for the fourth time. "Mr
Speaker," said I, " I rise to the question " — -
though it did not strike my mind, that I had
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 29
been standing up ever since I came into the
house. " I rise to this question, Mr Speak-
er," says I. But to see how terribly strange
some things work ! No sooner had I fairly rose
to the question and got a chance to make my
speech, than I began to wish myself a hun-
dred miles off. Five minutes before, I was
as bold as a lion, but now I should have been
glad to crawl into a knot-hole. cc Mr Speak-
er, I rise to the question," says I : but I am
bound to say that instead of rising, my voice
began to fall. " Mr Speaker," said I again,
" I rise to the question," but the more I rose
to the question, the more the question seemed
to fall away from me. And just at that min-
ute, a little fat round-faced man with a bald
head, that was sitting right before me, speaks
to another member and says, C£ What squeak-
ing fellow is that ? " It dashed me a good
deal, and I don't know but I should have sat
right down without another word, but Colo-
nel Crabapple, the member from Turkeytown,
gave me a twitch by the tail of my Wrapper,
"That's right, Turniptop," says he, u give
them the grand touch ! " This had a mighty
encouraging effect, and so I hemmed and hawked
three or four times, and at last made a begin-
ning.
" Mr Speaker," says I, " this is a subject
3*
30 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
of vital importance. The question is, Mr
Speaker, on the amendment. I have a deci-
ded opinion on that point, Mr Speaker. I
am altogether opposed to the last gentleman,
and I feel bound in duty to my constituents?
Mr Speaker, and the responsibility of my of-
fice, to express my mind on this question.
Mr Speaker, our glorious forefathers fought,
bled and died for glorious liberty. I am op-
posed to this question, Mr Speaker, — my con-
stituents have a vital interest in the subject
of cart-wheels. Let us take a retrospective
view, Mr Speaker, of the present condition of
all the kingdoms and tribes of the earth.
Look abroad, Mr Speaker, over the wide ex-
pansion of nature's universe beyond the bla-
zing billows of the Atlantic ! Behold Bona-
parte going about like a roaring thunderbolt !
All the world is turned topsy-turvy, and there
is a terrible rousing among the sons of men.
— But to return to the subject, Mr Speaker.
I am decidedly opposed to the amendment :
it is contrary to the principles of freedom and
the principles of responsibility. Tell it to
your children, Mr Speaker, and to your chil-
dren's children, that freedom is not to be
bartered, like Esau, for a mess of potash.
Liberty is the everlasting birthright of the
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 31
grand community of nature's freemen. Sir,
the member from Boston talks of horse-
shoes, but I hope we shall stand up for our
rights. If we only stand up for our rights,
Mr Speaker, our rights will stand up for us,
and we shall all stand uprightly, without
shivering or shaking. Mr Speaker, these are
awful times ; money is hard to get, whatever
the gentleman from Rowley may say about
pumpkins. A true patriot will die for his
country. May we all imitate the glorious
example and die for our country. Give up
keeping cows ! Mr Speaker ! what does the
honorable gentleman mean ? Is not agricul-
ture to be cultivated ? He that sells his lib-
erty, Mr Speaker, is worse than a cannibal,
a hottentot or a hippopotamus. The member
from Charlestown has brought his pigs to the
wrong market. I stand up for cart-wheels,
and so do my constituents. When our coun-
try calls us, Mr Speaker, with the voice of a
speaking-trumpet, may we never be backward
in coming forward : and all honest men ought
to endeavor to keep the rising generation from
falling. Not to dwell upon this point, Mr
Speaker, let us now enter into the subject : In
the first place," —
Now it happened that just at this moment
32 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH
the little fat, bald-headed, round-faced man
wriggled himself round exactly in front of me,
so that I could not help seeing him ; and just
as I was saying u rising generation," he twist-
ed the corners of his mouth into a queer sort
of a pucker on one side, and rolled the whites
of his little grey, winking eyes right up in
my face. The members all stared straight at
us, and made a kind of a snickering cluck,
ducky clucks cluck, that seemed to run whis-
tling over the whole house. I felt awfully
bothered, — I can't tell how, — but it gave me
such a jerk off the hooks that I could not re-
member the next words ; so I felt in my
pocket for the speech — it was not there : —
then in my hat, — it was not there : — then
behind me, then both sides of me, but lo and
behold ! it was not to be found. The next
instant I remembered that I had taken it out
of my hat in a shop in Dock Square that
morning, while I was comparing the four
corners of my check handkerchief with a
bandanna. That was enough, — I knew as
quick as lightning that I was a gone goose.
I pretended to go on with my speech, and
kept saying, " rising generation, my constitu-
ents, enter into the subject, Mr Speaker."
But I made hawk's meat of it, you may de-
IN THE GENERAL COURT. 33
pend. Finally nobody could stand it any longer;
the little fat man with the round face put his
thumb to the side of his nose, and made a sort
of twinkling with his fingers ; the speaker began
to giggle, and the next minute the whole house
exploded like a bomb shell. I snatched up my
hat under cover of the smoke, made one jump
to the door, and was down stairs before you
could say, " Second the motion !"
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
When I considered these things, I sighed and said within
myself, " Surely man is a broomstick ! "
SwifVs Meditations on a Broomstick.
Doctor Johnson is known to have said he
could make a capital book of the Life of a
Broomstick. It is astonishing the book-making
tribe have never taken this hint ; for nobody has
ever written such a work, notwithstanding the
fruitfulness of the subject. Writers have given
us the lives of innumerable dunces, old grannies,
fops, bores and do-littles. All sorts of nobodies
and good-for-nothing two-legged creatures have
had their memories embalmed in bad English
and balderdash eloquence ; but hitherto no one
except the Great Moralist seems to have been
aware of the biographical capabilities of broom-
sticks. As I have the honor, therefore of
being born a broomstick, I shall proceed to
relate the events of my life according to the
most approved models of biographical compo-
sition.
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 35
Broomsticks, dear reader, are important
things ; your wife has doubtless given you a
hint of this before. The life of a broomstick
must, in consequence, abound in striking
events, and furnish the speculative philos-
opher with topics for profound reflection. My
family is ancient, for the pedigree can be
traced to Noah, who, it is pretty certain, took
a supply of broomsticks in the ark, well
knowing he should have plenty of sweeping
to do. This being settled, let none hereafter
deny the antiquity of broomsticks. See the
treatise of Maimonides ; De Broomstickorum
vetere prosapia, cum notis Johannis Bambou-
zelbergii, edit. Lugduni Batav. 1662.
But to make a slight transition from Noah's
ark to the county of Worcester in which
place I first became a broomstick, I must
begin my life by saying that I owe existence
to a celebrated manufacturer of birchen com-
modities, who lacking timber of his own,
stole me in the shape of a sapling from the
woods of one of his neighbors. After proper
metamorphosis into the regular form of a
household implement, I passed somewhat
surreptitiously into the hands of a Connecti-
cut pedler. To speak more distinctly, I was
first stolen as stuff for making, and then sto-
36 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
len ready made. My readers, I dare say,
have heard loose reports of this circumstance
before. The fact is indubitable, and shows
the strange vicissitudes to which pedlers and
broomsticks are liable in this uncertain life.
The pedler carried me to Boston, where he
sold me with all his load to a grocer at the
South End ; here I remained on hand several
weeks, till at length I was bought by the
housemaid of a gentleman in — '■ Street,
and taken regularly into service. I blush to
say that at my first entrance into public life,
I was employed in all sorts of dirty work.
I should certainly have suppressed this par-
ticular, were it not that it offers a surprising
coincidence with the career of so many great
men of the present day.
Such an outset, I need hardly say, did not
please me at all. I was up betimes in the
morning, travelled briskly through the entry,
kitchen, yard and cellar, and then poked be-
hind a door to rest. Day after day the same
dull routine was repeated, and I began to
think I should never know an adventure, or
see anything of high life. Three months
elapsed before I even got a peep into the par-
lor. But an unlooked-for accident brought
me to play a more important part in the do-
mestic concerns of the house.
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 37
The gentleman to whom I had the honor of
belonging, was a young man who had met
with great good luck, that is to say, he had
married a fortune. His spouse was a lady of
no great personal charms and considerably
his superior in years. My gentleman, how-
ever, having an empty purse and a fine figure,
very generously overlooked all objections
arising from the disparity of their ages, and
married the lady for love, — so he said, and
nobody contradicted him. The honey-moon
passed delightfully, and all parties proclaimed
it a blessed match. The lady was happy
that she had such a fine, gay, pleasant, sensi-
ble, good-natured husband. The husband
was happy that he had so many bank shares
and brick houses. This was surely a delight-
ful prospect in life, but like many other de-
lightful prospects, it came to nothing, to the
utter astonishment of all concerned.
One evening rather late, I was standing in
a dark corner of the kitchen, in company
with my two friends, the mop and the warm-
ing-pan, when I heard the front door shut
with more than common emphasis. About
a quarter of an hour after this, Dolly the
housemaid came running into the kitchen,
and seizing hold of me, glided off on tiptoe
4
38 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
through the entry. I had not time to conjec-
ture what could be the occasion of this extraor-
dinary movement, before I heard voices in
a pretty exalted pitch in the adjoining room.
Something had evidently taken place to dis-
turb the domestic tranquillity of those sweet
turtle-doves, our master and mistress, and
Dolly having overheard enough to excite her
curiosity, had crept to the parlor door to listen,
taking me with her as a sham, that she might
pretend being about work, in case she should
be caught eaves-dropping. So putting her
ear to the door and holding her breath, she
heard every syllable of what passed.
My gentleman, it seems, had come home
several hours later than he was expected,
greatly to the disappointment of his better
half, who, on the moment of his appearance,
set upon him with reproaches for neglecting
her. To my surprise, though probably not
to hers, he replied in a manner that showed
a very recent familiarity with the good crea-
ture Champaigne. He was very talkative
and dogmatical, and threw off all reserve.
" Really, sir," said his wife, with as much
sullenness in her looks as she had been able
to call up in the three hours she had been
brooding over her wrongs — u Really, sir, this
is too bad."
P. 39.
"lorn askameds of you sir.
' Js//f////«/ i>/'///c /w//v /'//// not as7uvnecl < } / you
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 39
"Too bad ? my dear ! " answered the gen-
tleman with a show of the greatest amaze-
ment, " too bad, my dear, what do you mean,
my dear ? "
"Mean ? sir," that is a pretty question, a
very pretty question, hah ! " returned she,
pretending to make believe laugh. " A pretty
question, what it means when folks complain
of such treatment. But you grow worse and
worse, sir ; 't is the twentieth time, sir, the for-
tieth time — the hundredth time that you
have neglected me so, and affronted me so,
and mortified me so ! " Here she put her hand-
kerchief to her eyes.
" My dear soul," returned he in a very
soothing tone, "you are crazy ! How can
you say I neglect you ? Don't I come home
every day to dinner, except now and then ? "
"Crazy ! " exclaimed the offended fair one,
" it would not be surprising if such doings
should drive a woman crazy. Sir, you neg-
glect me shamefully ; you neglect your family,
sir, let me tell you that ! and people know it,
sir ; I am ashamed of you, sir."
" You don't say so, my dear," retorted he
with pretended earnestness : " ashamed of me ?
Why, I am not ashamed of you."
"Ashamed of me!" interrupted his wife,
40 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
and reddenning at the insinuation, " what do
you mean ? But I see you care nothing about
me ; no, you care for nothing but to spend
my money with a pack of low fellows."
" Please to spare your reflections upon the
gentlemen of my acquaintance : you are no
judge of character, sweet woman."
" Sir, I tell you I will bear it no longer ;
replied the spouse, growing more and more
passionate; "you are an unfeeling creature
and an ungrateful creature. I think I am en-
titled to some respect, sir — consider your obli-
gations to me."
"Obligations forsooth!" said the husband,
beginning to feel his temper disturbed at this
fling from his wife. " Heyday ! consider your
obligations to me too."
" What sir, obligations ! pray what obliga-
tions ! Did n't I marry you, sir, when you
had n't a cent in your pocket ? Did n't I make
a gentleman of you, sir ? answer me that."
" And did n't I marry you, ma'am," re-
turned the gentleman raising his voice, and
growing more and more rufTled, u did n't I
marry you when you was at the last point of
desperation, with all the horrors of single bles-
sedness staring you in the face ! "
u 'T is false, sir ! " exclaimed his lady with
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 41
great violence. c: I had a dozen offers — good
offers, sir ; but 1 was fool enough to marry
you, sir. I saved you from the deputy sheriff;
— you may thank me, sir, that you are not at
this moment boarding at free cost in Ward
No. 5."
" Oho ! since you are come to that," said
the gentleman, in a very firm tone, and pre-
tending the greatest nonchalance, u I think
quite as much might be said on the other
side ; for let me tell you, old lady, a young
fellow that has prospects, can't be expected to
throw himself away for nothing."
To call a lady old, is an offence, says Cer-
vantes, that none of the sex can forgive. It
is the last thing indeed, which a middle-aged
belle wishes to be reminded of. Our lady
was very touchy upon this point, and she
burst out —
ct You are an ill-mannered fellow, sir ; you
are a brute and a barba ian ! You mean to
kill me with your vile behavior. I wish I may
live a thousand years to vex you. I won't
stay another moment in your company. Oh !
fie ! you wretch ?"
With this explosion of rage, she sprang
from her seat, and seizing the door with a
most tremendous jerk, threw it open. Now
4*
42 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
all this was done so instantaneously that
Dolly, who was standing in breathless immo-
bility, leaning against the outside, had not
above three quarters of a second's warning
of her approach, so that the door flying open
in an instant, the mistress and maid came
slap together with a momentum not much in-
ferior to that of two locomotives on a rail-
way. The awkwardness of the collision
need not be described, but this was not the
worst part of the affair. The lady's temper
was none of the sweetest, and the quarrel
with her husband had made her a hundred
times more irritable than common. Enraged
at the thought of having her family quarrels
discovered, for she had pride as well as tem-
per, she flew upon the luckless listener, and
snatching me from her hands before she
could think of a word to say in her defence,
gave her such a beating, that poor Dolly roar-
ed for help and bestowed internally ten
thousand maledictions on that evil spirit of
curiosity that had prompted her to busy her-
self with the conjugal endearments of her
betters. The husband was not displeased
to find the storm diverted from himself to
another object, but was at length obliged to
interfere, lest the punishment should exceed
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 43
the offence. He snatched me from the hands
of his wife, and bade the luckless maid go
about her business, and forbear eaves-drop-
ping in future. But Dolly was not so easily
pacified. " She would n't stay another mo-
ment in the house, not she. Folks need n't
think they was to treat their helps like dogs,
that they must n't. She was as good flesh
and blood as any body, she 'd have 'em to
know. Off she 'd go that instant, bag and
baggage, and she 'd have the law on them for
all their gentility." With these protestations,
and a thousand others just like them, accom-
panied with divers tossings of the head and
twistings of the nose, she left the house.
The next morning beheld me travelling to
Court Street, where Dolly told her piteous
tale to a lawyer, and exhibited me in evidence.
" Here is the very broomstick to prove it, sir ;
every word of it is true, and if you won't be-
lieve me, you must believe the broomstick :
two witnesses will hang anybody. If there 's
law T in the land, I '11 have justice done for me
and the broomstick." — " No doubt on 't," re-
plied the learned gentleman ; " leave the
broomstick w T ith me, and I '11 make a flourish
with it to some purpose ; but hark 'ee, don't
say anything of this affair to anybody else.
44 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
You shall have justice done you, but leave it
to me." Dolly went her way and the lawyer
ran to my gentleman. "Mr ," said he,
u this is an ugly affair of yours ; could n't you
make it up ? The girl swears she '11 have it in
the newspapers to morrow. Now, as a friend
to you, I should be horrified to see such a
scandal get abroad about a respectable family
like yours ! I would not for a thousand dol-
lars that the affair should get wind." These
alarms had a great effect upon my master and
mistress, who by this time had begun to en-
tertain some cool reflections upon the doings
of the last evening, and they inquired with
great anxiety whether the matter could not
be hushed up. " 'T is the very thing I have-
to propose," said the attorney, " the complain-
ant has offered to compound for a considera-
tion." — " How much ? " asked the husband. —
" Five hundred dollars," replied the man of
law. u Five hundred ! " exclaimed the lov-
ing couple at once, in the most dismal tone of
astonishment. " Ay," returned the peacema-
ker " but I beat her down to two hundred,
for I told her she must be reasonable." — " The
devil confound such reason ! " exclaimed the
gentleman; " what, two hundred dollars for
half a dozen thumps with a broomstick ! — I
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 45
won't pay it." u Why then, there 's nothing
more to be said," replied the lawyer gravely,
cc and the matter must go before the court."
This was an ugly thought to my gentleman.
ct Say a hundred and fifty," said he, u and
done." My honest friend, the attorney, took a
pinch of snuff, and after a few seconds hesi-
tation replied — " Well, since you won't of-
fer more, let me have the money and I '11 try
what can be done with her." Very reluctant-
ly, my fine gentleman drew a check for the
money, and the man of law departed, protest-
ing that it grieved him to the soul, but he
would make any sacrifice to save his friend's
character.
A few days after, came his client to inquire
about her cause. She was directed to call
again the next week. At the second call, the
matter was postponed for a fortnight : the
next time, for three weeks ; and so on till the
unlucky maid became pretty well tired of the
law's delay. After a long time, he informed
her that the case looked rather bad, and hint-
ed that she had better try to make it up.
Dolly who by this time no longer felt the
smart of her bruises, and began to have fears
that the case might go against her, readily
listened to the suggestion and inquired how
46 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
much she might hope to get as hush-money.
"I can't tell replied the conscientious gen-
tleman, " but if you could get ten dollars, I
should advise you as a friend to withdraw
your action." " Ten dollars ! " exclaimed the
battered Abigail, — "well, if you think I 'd bet-
ter " — " Really I do," replied he ; " take my
word as a friend, I wish to give you honest
advice, — that's always my rule." The re-
sult of this negociation was that the ten dol-
lars were paid, and so the matter ended, veri-
fying the old adage, "blessed are the makers
of peace, but cursed are the breakers of it."
Meantime I was forgotten, and stood behind
the lawyer's door for six months. What
scenes I witnessed, are nothing to my present
purpose, since I was rather a spectator than
an actor in them. I became initiated into the
mysteries of the legal profession, upon the
philosophy of which I shall make no moral re-
flections from sheer inability ; for the length
and breadth of a lawyer's conscience are be-
yond the capacity of any common broomstick
to measure. But one day a certain customer
of my master's, a rather unsophisticated wight,
finding his pockets emptied of a swingeing
sum by the ingenuity of this gentleman, stood
aghast at the catastrophe, hardly willing to
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 47
believe his senses in evidence of such diaboli-
cal impudence. Finding, however, that it was
" no mistake," he moved towards the door
determined to say his " good-bye " in a style
that would ring like a clap of thunder.
"I'll tell you what I think of you, sir,"
said he in a solemn voice, and holding the
door in one hand, ready to fire and run.
" Well," said the man of law, very com-
posedly.
" I think you a very great rascal ! "
Expecting to see the enraged attorney ex-
plode like a bomb shell at this attack, he stood
a moment to enjoy the effect, but what words
can describe his astonishment, when his an-
tagonist answered with the most gentle
smile —
" Pooh ! pooh, I 've been told that a hun-
dred times."
This was too much ; flesh and blood could
not bear it. " I '11 have it out of his hide,"
thought the unlucky litigant ; and at that mo-
ment his eye fell on me, who stood close at
hand, as it were, inviting him to seize and lay
on. In a trice he clutched me by the end, and
made so brisk a flourishing over the sconce
of his legal friend, that he roared with more
eloquence than he ever did to a jury. The
48 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
neighbors running in at the noise, put an end
to this administration of justice, and the assail-
ant was tumbled down stairs into the street,
where he was seized by a constable. For my
part, I was carried by that official to his own
house in order to be forthcoming when the in-
dictment for the assault should be drawn.
But just after this, certain affairs of the afore-
said attorney coming to light, which were like-
ly to render his stay in Boston inconvenient, he
disappeared between two days, and the prose-
cution was dropped.
In the constable's house I was put to vari-
ous uses ; the most worthy of mention was
that of being ridden as a horse by one of his
boys. Having performed this office one af-
ternoon, I was left by the urchin in the street,
where I expected to pass the night : but about
ten o'clock in the evening I was aroused from
a profound revery by a sound of footsteps
breaking the lonely silence of the obscure lane
where I lay. A figure approached with looks
bent on the ground and cautiously peeping
into every corner he passed, as if hunting for
rags and old shoes. By the light of the moon
he espied me as I lay in the gutter, and ea-
gerly caught me up. We passed up the street
and down another, in at this lane and out at
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 49
that, my master picking up various valuable
commodities in bis way, till be found his
pockets stuffed with old newspapers, bits of
leather, marrow-bones, broken glass, rope
yarn, old iron, cork stopples, and odds and
ends of every article of domestic economy that
can find its way into a dust-heap.
The individual into whose hands I had
thus fallen, was a lean, scarecrow looking per-
sonage, in a threadbare coat and an old rusty
hat, yet, so far from being a beggar, or the
keeper of an old junk shop, was one of the
richest men in Boston, who turned an honest
penny by accommodating gentlemen in pinch-
ing circumstances with ready cash, at a rate
of interest corresponding to the scarcity of the
commodity. These transactions were com-
monly done in a sly place not far from Faneuil
Hall Market, for this obliging old soul did not
care to have his liberality obtruded upon the
notice of the public, and always manifested
great uneasiness when the folks in the
Insurance Office dropped hints about letting
money at ten per cent, a month. However,
that is neither here nor there. It was late at
night, and he trudged down street with me to
the market, where my gentleman began to
peer about among the lobsters, and after in-
5
■60 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK,
specting several lots, at last pitched upon one
just about spoiling, for which he offered half
price, as it was a hot night. The bargain was
concluded, after some higgling, the purchaser,
upon a second examination, insisting upon a
further deduction of two cents, in consequence
of the deficiency of a claw.
My master wrapped his purchase up safe
in an old newspaper, and set off homeward.
We entered the yard of a house in Street,
and he bolted the gate very carefully behind
him, and took us into the kitchen, where we
found his wife sitting by the light of the small-
est of all tallow candles. u Cre-ation ! ma'am !"
he exclaimed, " what now ? what now ? —
Burning out light to waste in this manner !
What upon earth is the meaning of all this ?"
" Nothing, Mr Gripps, but waiting for Isaac,
the boy has n't got home yet," replied the
wife.
" What ! what ! what 's that you say ? not
got home yet ? Half after ten, and not home
yet ! Cre-ation ! the creature 's bewitched !"
" As sure as you live, it 's true ! Mr Gripps,
and yet I gave him a strict charge to be home
in season," returned she.
u So did I — so did I," said the old miser,
beginning to work himself up into a passion.
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 51
" How many times I 've told him so ! This
won't do, this won't do ! Let him go to bed
in the dark. Shan't have candles to burn to
waste. Go to ruin hand over fist ! — Cre-a-
tion !" So saying he opened his bundle and
laid the lobster very carefully upon the dres-
ser.
" There !" he exclaimed, fixing his little grey
bargain-making eyes upon the choice morsel
with a look of mingled resignation and sor-
row. " There 's a dinner for Wednesday, cost
ten cents! — wouldn't take less for it — ten
cents ! Ugh ! Souse it in vinegar and it '11 be
sure to keep : 't will make two good dinners
and something to save besides : we can cer-
tainly make it last till Friday ; why not ?
why not ?"
"Why, Mr Gripps," replied his wife,
" there 's nothing for dinner tomorrow ; you
know it really can't last till Friday."
<c Ods ! my life !" he exclaimed in the
greatest astonishment, " nothing for dinner
tomorrow ? what ! all the tom-cods gone ?
Cre-ation !"
" All ate up but the one you saved for
supper, and what do you think, Mr Gripps ?
I verily believe Tim Dobson's old cat has
stole it, for I have n't seen hide nor hair of it
since the morning !"
52 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
" Cre-ation !" exclaimed old Gripps, " that
thief of a cat '11 be the ruin of me ! Steals
all our fish — steals all our liver — won't
have her about the yard — I '11 kill her ! I '11
kill her ! Won't have her stealing here. —
Tell Dobson to keep his cats at home. Drive
her away ! 'scat her away — won't have her
stealing here ! Creation !"
Here the old miser rolled up his eyes and
gave a most rueful groan as he thought of
the alarming audacity of cats and the irreco-
verable loss of his tom-cod. Then shewing
me to his wife, his features relaxed a little,
and he exclaimed in a tone of great satisfac-
tion, " Nice broomstick ; nice broomstick ;
take care on't, take care on't — come in course
by and bye." Then depositing me very
carefully in a corner, he disburthened himself
of the trumpery he had picked up, launching
out into praises of every article, and packing
them away with heaps already collected. Af-
ter which he crept off to bed, taking care to
put out the light and hide the candle, that
there might be no further extravagant con-
sumption of tallow.
It would have been worth any miser's
money to see the domestic economy of my
He was a saving
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 53
bunks, that had made his own fortune and
knew what money was worth. He began
life with a peck of apples and three quarts of
vinegar, which served him to set up what he
called a wine cellar in Ann Street. Here he
drudged for some years, and by looking out
for the main chance, doing here a little and
there a little, and losing no means of turning
a penny, he contrived by hook and by crook,
to emerge into State Street, where he realized
his hundred thousand, by practices which
need not be explained to those who know the
necessities of men in business who have notes
to pay. No man ever had a greater horror
of parting with his money. His house looked
like the domain of famine, though he was
always talking of living comfortably. To
do him justice, his family enjoyed all the
comforts which lie within the reach of those
who are debarred the use of fire, lights and
provisions. His back-logs were always soak-
ed in water, and the candle ends were care-
fully locked up for fear they should be eaten.
It is hardly necessary to particularize the
daily events of my life while I staid in this
same kitchen. I saw nobody save the old
miser, his wife and son. They lived for the
most part, upon tom-cods fried in water, with
5 *
54 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
now and then a tid-bit in the shape of a scrap
of meat, bought a good pennyworth in the
afternoon of a hot day, when rapidly becom-
ing an unsaleable commodity. Cabbage-
leaves and turnip-tops slily filched from carts
and stalls, supplied greens free of cost, and
sometimes a stray carrot or a vagabond po-
tato found its way into his pocket, which
gave an additional luxury to the dinner table.
Never was such a lonely, dismal place for a
kitchen as ours. Rats there were none ; no-
body had ever heard of such things on our
premises. Three flies came in at the window
one summer afternoon, and were found dead
a week afterwards, — doubtless from starva-
tion. Some tradition existed of a spit and a
tin kitchen, but it had grown faint through
lapse of years, and nothing was known of
them with certainty. The old miser's clothes
never wore out, though always threadbare ;
they' were constantly receiving additions from
shreds and patches picked up in his nightly
wanderings, and grew rather thick than thin
from age. He had an old plush waistcoat,
all rusty and ragged, which he called his
u tax waistcoat," because he wore it regularly
once a year, when he visited the Assessors, to
complain of his over-taxation, hoping that
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 55
such "looped and window'd wretchedness"
as the venerable tatters of this garment displayed,
might melt the flinty hearts of Samuel Norwood,
Henry Bass and Thomas Jackson, — " albeit
unused to the melting mood" — into a more
moderate estimation of his real and personal
estate. But it does not appear that this inge-
nious manoeuvre ever succeeded.
I stood undisturbed in a corner of the kitch-
en for some weeks, as it may readily be
supposed there was very little use for my ser-
vices in a house where no article of furniture
was put into unnecessary wear. The doors
were always shut to keep out visitors, and the
windows were shut to keep out cats. But
one afternoon Old Gripps had made a mag-
nificent purchase of an eel for his dinner the
next day ; it hung in the chimney corner, and
the window, by accident, was open. The cat
was prowling about the yard, and discovered
by the scent that the miser's kitchen actu-
ally contained something to eat. Nobody was
stirring upon the premises, and the cat ven-
tured to thrust her head in at the window ; not
a soul was to be seen in the kitchen, the eel was
in plain sight, and could be reached by a smart
jump.
56 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish.
She stretched in vain to reach the prize,
What starving throat can food despise ?
What cat 's averse to fish ?
No sooner thought than done : she bound-
ed into the room, made a snap at the eel,
and was in the act of retreating with the
prize, when the old miser opened the door.
" Cre-ation ! " he exclaimed, running to the
window and clapping it down to cut off the
cat's retreat. " Thief of a cat ! I '11 crack
your bones for you ! Stop there ! Stop there !
whisht! 'scat! 'scat! oh! you thief!" At
the same time snatching me from the corner
he began to lay about him like mad. The
cat finding her retreat by the window cut off,
made a bolt through the door into the entry,
holding fast by the eel in her escape. The
miser pursued her, banging the floor right and
left with his broomstick, and exclaiming in
a great rage, tl Cre-ation ! Oh you thief ! I'll
crack your bones ! Thief ! thief ! thief !
'scat ! 'scat ! stop there ! stop there ! whisht !
siss ! siss ! cahah ! cahah ! whisht ! whisht !
drop that eel ! drop that eel ! caa ! caa ! caa !
drop that eel, I say !" But the cat w 7 as a
veteran marauder, and held fast by the eel,
scampering hither and thither across the en-
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 57
try, determined to save her hide and bacon
too if possible ; but finding all egress by the
door prohibited, she bounced up the stairs.
The old miser followed her, striking short of
the end of her tail at every step, and bawling,
" Stop that cat ! stop that cat ! a thief ! a
thief ! caa ! caa ! drop that eel ! drop that
eel, I say ! " In this manner he chased her
into the garret, where she bolted through a
broken square in the window, and both eel and
cat were lost to all pursuit.
The unfortunate miser stood astounded at
this unexpected escape. The broomstick
dropped from his hand, and he remained
transfixed, with gaping mouth, staring eyes,
and the most dolorous contortion of visage.
After exclaiming " Cre-ation ! " twenty times
over, he crept sorrowfully down stairs, deter-
mined to nail the kitchen window fast down
and prevent the repetition of such a disaster.
In the confusion of his intellects, caused by
this overwhelming calamity, he quite forgot
the broomstick, and I was left on the garret
floor.
Here I should have remained undisturb-
ed for a long time, had the affairs of the na-
tion gone on prosperously ; but the great com-
mercial catastrophe which shook all the United
53 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
States, also shook me out of the garret window:
— even broomsticks must suffer when empires
go to ruin. This strange event was brought
about in the following manner.
Old Gripps was well rewarded by the
bounty of nature for his benevolent qualities.
He was blessed with a spendthrift, rantipole
son, who seemed to be sent into the world for
the express purpose of squandering the money
which the parsimony of his father had so pain-
fully acquired. This prodigal disposition had
lately increased to an alarming extent. At first,
he had refused to wear old clothes bought at the
rag-fair of Brattle Street : next he found fault
with his victuals, and presently wanted money
to spend ! Nothing could check his wasteful
career but the lack of cash, a commodity which
I need not say was pretty securely guarded in
the house. He nevertheless contrived, by va-
rious manoeuvres, to filch small sums now and
then, the enjoyment of which only whetted his
appetite for more. The youth, finding him-
self pinched by the niggardly economy of his
father, lost all scruple as to appropriating
whatever cash he could lay his hands on. The
father, knowing this, was anxiously on his
guard, and a very sharp game was played be-
tween them.
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 59
For some time cash had been scarce with
the young man ; the miser had carefully
lodged every dollar in the bank, so that when
his son came to pick his pockets at night, he
seldom found above a quarter of a dollar at a
time. But just after the adventure of the
cat and the eel, happened the great stoppage
of specie payments. Now old Squaretoes
chanced, to his great delectation, on the
morning of that very day, to get possession
of a large sum in specie, which, when the
banks stopped, he determined to keep by him
and turn to good account by selling it at a
huge premium. He accordingly had it con-
veyed home at an hour when his son was
absent ; and not finding his own desk or
closet safe enough for such a precious deposit,
as young Hopeful could pick locks on oc-
casion, he had hid the strong box in a sly
corner of the garret, where it remained un-
suspected by any one. After a while, how-
ever, the ingenious youth, led by surmises,
tracked his father undiscovered to the spot, and
got a sight of the hidden treasure.
My master, like most other careful old
gentlemen, made a practice every night of
seeing the doors made fast, and every body
safe in bed before he retired to rest. The
60 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
slightest noise in the night alarmed him, as
he always thought of his gold, and dreamed
of thieves. About eleven o'clock, when the
whole house had been for some time in per-
fect silence, I was surprised to hear footsteps
stealthily approaching, and see the glimmer
of a light. Our young gentleman made his
appearance, walking on tiptoe, and holding
his breath. The secret nook was explored
and the strong box drawn out. The eyes of
the liberal young man sparkled as he felt the
weight of the treasure ; he imagined that so
large a sum might spare a part, and nothing
be missed, a hasty method of reasoning which
folks of his stamp are very apt to fall into.
A handful of keys were applied one after the
other to the lock, but not one of them would
fit. To break the lock would make a noise,
and the only method left was to force the lid
up by a wedge, widely enough to abstract
some of the contents. Nothing of the kind
had been prepared, but as I happened to lie
in sight, he seized me forthwith, and by the
help of his penknife, sharpened my small end
into a wedge. With this instrument the lid
was raised an inch or two and he greedily
thrust in his hand, but, woful to relate ! at
that moment I snapped short and left him in
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 61
the lurch ! A steel trap could not have done
the thing more neatly.
At the noise made, by this disaster, and the
sudden scream which the pain of his impris-
oned wrist extorted from the luckless adven-
turer, the old miser awoke and began to bawl
" Murder ! fire! thieves!" Then running
in all haste to the scene of the alarm, he
beheld his darling son with his hand in the
casket that contained his beloved treasure.
This sight roused him to fury. He snatched
me from the floor, and bestowed so violent a
cudgelling upon the back of the delinquent,
that his wife, who presently came up, fearing
the blows were killing the young man, snatch-
ed me from the hands of her husband and
threw T me out of the window.
How long my young friend staid in his
trap I never learned. For my own part, I
found myself on the roof, where I slid end-
wise over the eaves, and then shot diagonally
into the window of the house opposite. Now
in this room sat a couple of persons rather
oddly situated. Let me take up their story
a point or two backward. A middle-aged
old gentleman it was, with a middle-aged
young lady, — the reader understands me.
This middle-aged old gentleman was a pre-
G
62 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
cise, fidgetty, touchy, ceremonious personage,
as prim and old-bachelorish as the primmest
of all old bachelors, and was paying his
addresses to the middle-aged young lady, who
had as little objection to a husband as it was
possible for a middle-aged lady to have. This
was a courting night ; the courtship was not
so far advanced as to have removed all atten-
tion to punctilios between them, and they sat
upon the sofa in an attitude as formal and
starched as a couple of effigies in the New
England Museum. By and by the conversa-
tion began to flag, as it is apt to do on such
occasions : the house was silent ; they had
discussed the news and talked the weather
round and round till it would not shift any
more. There was nothing more left to talk
about ; pity that lovers could not start a topic
sufficiently animating to keep them awake,
but such is the fact. The gentleman began
soon to yawn, and as yawning, like love or
the measles, is contagious, the lady began to
yawn too. What will you have? — in half
an hour they were both fast asleep !
Now I should have observed before, our
prim, precise, touchy, fidgetty, middle-aged old
bachelor had had the misfortune to lose all his
hair, and wore a handsome scratch ; but this
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 63
was known only to himself, and he designed
to keep the secret, and carry it with him to
his grave. Nothing gave him so much anxi-
ety as the apprehension that this might he
discovered, for he had set his heart on pre-
serving the reputation of his youthful locks.
He had dropped no hint, of course, to the
lady, that in case she pulled his hair for him,
something might surprise her, and his pre-
caution not to endanger such a discovery,
added not a little to the circumspection of his
manners in her company.
As this loving couple lay fast asleep, one
at each end of the sofa, I burst in at the win-
dow, and came end first, souse upon the old
bachelor's nose ! He uttered a loud scream
and sprang up, tossing his wig off at a single
jerk. The lady awoke at the scream, and
started up and screamed likewise. The gen-
tleman stared in astonishment at the lady,
imagining it was she who had struck him.
The lady fixed her eyes in astonishment and
terror upon the gentleman, unable to conceive
the cause of his exclamation, his frightened
looks, or the sudden metamorphose of his
head. The next moment the gentleman was
aware of the loss of his wig ; then surprise,
astonishment, mortification, embarrassment,
64 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK.
fright and ten thousand indescribable imagin-
ings came over him in an overwhelming
cloud. He stood as if thunderstruck, without
the power to utter a sylable. Now the lady
screamed again in good earnest, for she was
fully persuaded he was out of his wits. Tke
noise awoke everybody in the house, who
came rushing in tumult into the room. The
sight of these intruders brought the bewilder-
ed man a little to his senses. He caught up
his wig, and clapping it upon his head, the
wrong side before, rushed in speechless amaze-
ment and vexation from the house.
The lady, as in duty bound, immediately
fainted aw r ay ; and when she came to herself,
she shed with the greatest propriety, a con-
siderable quantity of tears. The following
day was passed in losing all appetite for
victuals, and in sighing profoundly. As for
the gentleman, he set out upon a distant jour-
ney without delay, and has not yet return-
ed. Should the sequel of the affair ever come
to light, I shall certainly make it public, for it
must interest all true lovers.
I have not space to detail the adventures
that befell me after this occurrence ; but I
continued to play my part in all sorts of
strange conjunctures. I have paased through
BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 65
the hands of four snappish old curmudgeons,
nine scolding wives, three dogmatical school-
masters, and thirteen desperate old maids, —
in all of which I did effectual service. I have
caused seventeen bloody noses, twelve pair of
battered shins, and ten black and blue shoulders ;
I have banged twentyseven very thick skulls,
given two dozen pokes in the ribs, made thirteen
men and women cry murder ! broken off two
matches, and caused the death of one half of a
human being in the shape of a dandy with two
daubs of tallowed hair plastered on his temples.
This last exploit is not much, but take them all
together, I really think they are something —
for a broomstick. Many a blockhead has
written his own life. Let this be my apology.
The world, 't is true,
Was made for blockheads. — and for broomsticks too.
ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE.
BY BOANERGES BURSTALL.
Stupendous Pole !— thou walking-stick of Time !
Thou giant flag-staff in empyreal air !
Throned in Antarctic solitude sublime,
Portentous mystery ! what dost thou do there ?
Ly'st thou enchain'd in that benighted sea?
Sleep'st thou in lullaby of whistling thunders ?
O Pole ! in frenzy when I think of thee,
I think — I think — unutterable wonders !
There dost thou sit, unseen, untouch'd, unshaken,
A thousand sea-calves roar at thee in vain ;
Ten thousand bears in vain their growls awaken,
And thrice ten thousand whales spout up the foaming main
Shouldst thou, O stedfast Pole ! desert thy station,
New Zealand's coasts would tremble at the sight,
The Hindoo tawnies quake in consternation,
And sable Hottentots turn pale with fright.
Shouldst thou break loose in some stupendous thaw,
Leap to the North, and kiss thy Arctic brother,
Then sea and land, " in elemental war,"
As poets say, would make a " dreadful pother."
ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. 67
Hark ! hear we not the South Sea islands rushing
Through Behring's Straits which vainly bid them stand,
There goes New Holland, old Spitzbergen crushing,
Cape Horn runs butting against Newfoundland !
I see old Neversink falling away,
And Bunker Hill upset in Lake Champlain,
I see Gibraltar skate through Baffin's Bay,
And Cuba scouring o'er the State of Maine.
Here, hu^e sea-serpents twist their tails on high,
And shoals of frighted porpoises are dashing;
There great leviathans and little fry,
Penobscot shad and Norway kraken splashing.
Six waterspouts stream up Wakulla fountain,
Thund'ring from Pasquotank to Tombigbee,
Rhode Island jumps astride of Saddle Mountain
And canters down the Falls of Genesee !
The Blue Ridge tumbles o'er the western prairie,
And pounds the buffaloes with desperate slaughter;
Now strortg Madeira dashes Grand Canary,
And now up hill, good Lord ! runs Taunton water !
Behold Bermuda burst his rocky tether,
And rush upon Cape Cod in roaring war!
And there the cities all go smash together,
Boston and Paris, Bungtown and Bangor!
The moon blows up, the fix'd stars run away,
Earth, sun and comets into chaos swing !
'T is done ! the skies come tumbling down ! — But stay —
It is not done, because there 's no such thing.
No ! mortal sight is happily a stranger
To all the horrors of the astounding scene ;
Fate has look'd out in time to spy the danger,
And placed the equinoxial line between.
68 ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE.
While stand the mountains, the South Pole will stand.
When fall the mountains, the South Pole will fall,
New Holland, Java and Van Dieman's Land,
And Owhyhee and South Sea Islands all.
Then fare thee well, dread Pole, the very notion,
Curdles my blood with horrifying chill.
Don't think of such tremendous locomotion.
But fare thee well. South Pole, and stand stock-still!
THE AGE OF WONDERS.
1 am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.
Twelfth Night.
My neighbor over the way, Colonel Swal-
lowmore, thinks himself born in the age of
wonders : — and no wonder he thinks so, for
he reads the newspapers and believes them !
It is astonishing how gravely the Colonel
gulps down every crude lump of monstrous
fudge the papers contain. Sea-serpents,
crook-necked squashes, consumption cured,
talking pigs, and three-legged cats, are nothing
to an appetite like his. He believes election-
eering speeches and predictions of political
quidnuncs. All is fish that comes to his net.
u These are times ! Mr Titterwell, these are
times indeed ! " says he to me, with a most
rueful visage, as he lays down the newspa-
per — cc What are we coming to ! People have
got to such a pass ! Something is certainly
going to happen before long. I 'm really,
really frightened to think of it. There never
70 THE AGE OF WONDERS.
were such doings in my day. Positively
I Ve got so now that I an't surprised at any
thing ! " — And so he shakes his head, hitches
up his breeches, sticks his spectacles higher
up his nose, and reads the wonders of the day
over again.
Twentyeight several times has this country
been irretrievably ruined since I knew the
Colonel. Seven times has the world come
quite to an end. Nineteen times have we
had the hardest winter ever known within
the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Twenty-
one times there never was seen such a back-
ward spring. Fortyseven times the approach-
ing session of Congress has been one of un-
common interest ; and thirteen thousand nine
hundred and sixtysix times has death snatch-
ed away the best man upon earth, leaving
mortals inconsolable and society with an
immense void. The mental agitations he
has undergone in pondering upon the " won-
derful wonders " that spring up as plenty as
grasshoppers in this wonderful age, are not
to be described ; for the Colonel takes an im-
mense interest in public affairs, and cannot
see the universe go to ruin about his ears
without pangs of sympathy. Whatever mole-
hill he stumbles upon, he makes a moun-
THE AGE OF WONDERS. 71
tain of it. He thought the Salem Mill-dam
absolutely necessary to the balance of power,
and was certain that the bridge over Peg's
Run was the only means of saving the nation.
He went to bed in a great fright on reading
in the paper that Emerson's Spelling-book
would overthrow the liberties of the country ;
and he was struck with the deepest alarm
when he heard of the feud that had broken
out between the Houses of Correction and
Reformation about a cart-load of chips. I
shall never forget the anxiety that beset him
last summer when the City Council could not
come to a choice about the Superintendent of
Drains. The newspapers were full of the
affair, and the Colonel, I verily believe, would
have worried himself into a nervous fever had
this alarming schism between the two bran-
ches of the city government been carried
much farther.
" A strange affair, Mr Titterwell, a very
mysterious affair, " said he. " There are
some dark, under-ground manoeuvres going
on in this matter, depend upon it ; and really
the Mayor and Aldermen " here he turn-
ed up the whites of his eyes and shook his
head. Heaven only knows what he thought
of those great dignitaries. However, the af-
72 THE AGE OF WONDERS.
fair of the drains got through without any
great catastrophe to folks above ground, that
ever I could learn, and the Colonel's conster-
nation subsided for that time.
All the world were going mad the other
day about white mustard seed. " Pray Col-
onel," said I, " what is white mustard seed
to you or me ? Can't we eat our bread and
butter, and sleep till six in the morning,
without troubling our heads about white
mustard seed ? Did n't we fight the battles
of the revolution without white mustard seed ?
Did n't Samson carry off the gates of Gaza
without white mustard seed ? Did n't your
blessed old grandmother knit stockings and
live to the age of ninety without white mus-
tard seed ? Then what 's the use of minding
the dolts in the newspapers who tell you that
white mustard seed is better than meat, drink
and sunshine, and that we shall all die un-
timely deaths unless we take white mustard
seed ?"
The Colonel could not understand it : —
it was a great mystery indeed, — but the
newspapers w T ere full of it, and he was con-
vinced white mustard seed had something in
it, that would come out in due time. White
mustard seed, however, has had its day ; and
THE AGE OF WONDERS. 73
the Colonel has probably taken to saw-dust,
as I heard him talk of Dr Graham last week.
But of all mortals the Colonel is the most
prone to sympathize with the unfortunate
public upon the loss of great men. I popped
in upon him the day before yesterday, and
found him lamenting a huge public calamity.
Three great men had fallen in Israel : — an
eminent clergyman, an eminent country re-
presentative, and an eminent dealer in salt
fish on Long Wharf. The Colonel was triply
dolorous upon the matter ; society, business,
politics, had suffered an immense loss, — a
loss incalculable, irreparable, and so forth.
I assured the Colonel there was no great
cause for apprehension, for the world was
pretty sure to turn round once in twentyfour
hours, whether great men died or lived.
"The fact is, Colonel," said I, "great men
may die as fast as they please for aught I
care. I have never been frightened by the
death of one of them since an adventure that
happened to me in my ninth year, when I
lived in the country."
" What is that ?" asked the Colonel.
« I '11 tell you," said I.
"Ona certain day, — a day never to be for-
gotten by me, news arrived in town that the
7
74 THE AGE OF WONDERS.
Governor was dead. No sovereign prince,
pontiff or potentate on the face of the earth,
ever appeared so gigantic and formidable to
my childish eyes, as that harmless gentleman
the Governor of Massachusetts. Imagine the
shock occasioned by this announcement 1
Straightway the bells began tolling, people
collected in groups, quidnucs scoured from
place to place, gossips chattered, children
gaped in dumb astonishment, and old women
w r ith dismal faces ran about croaking c the
Governor is dead V To me these things
seemed to betoken the general wreck of na-
ture, for how the order of the universe could
subsist after the death of the Governor, was
beyond my comprehension. I expected the
sun and moon to fall, the stars to shoot from
their spheres, and my grandfather's mill-pond
to upset. The horrible forebodings under
which I lay down to sleep that night, are not
to be described, and it was a long time ere I
could close my eyes. In the morning I was
awakened by a dreadful rumbling noise.
c The Governor is dead V I exclaimed, start-
ing up in a terrible fright. The noise contin-
ued : I listened, and discovered it to be nothing
more than my old grandmother grinding
coffee !
THE AGE OF WONDERS. 75
" The effect of this prodigious anticlimax
can hardly be imagined ; never in my life
was I so puzzled and confounded as at the
first moment of this discovery. 'What!'
said I to myself, i is the Governor dead and
yet people grind coffee ? — Then it seems we
are to eat our breakfast just as if nothing had
happened. Is a great man of no more con-
sequence than this ? ' A new ray of light
broke in upon me ; I fell to pondering upon
the occurrence, and five minutes' pondering
completely demolished the power supreme
with which many a pompous owl had stalked
through my imagination. From that mo-
ment, governors, town clerks, selectmen, rep-
resentatives, justices of peace, and great peo-
ple of every degree, lost nine tenths of their
importance in my eyes, for I plainly saw the
world could do without them.
" How often in after life have I applied the
moral of this incident ! How much moving
eloquence and dire denunciation have I pass-
ed by with the remark — ' That is a great
affair, no doubt, but it won't stop a coffee-
mill.' "
OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
A CHATTER FROM THE HISTORY OF THE
TOWN OF PIGWACKET.
My second cousin by the mother's side,
Benjamin Blackletter, A. M., who was born
and lived all his lifetime in the ancient town
of Pigwacket, has compiled, with scrupulous
accuracy, the annals of that venerable town
in three volumes folio, which he proposes to
publish as soon as he can find a Boston book-
seller who will undertake the job. I hope
this will be accomplished before long, for
Pigwacket is a very interesting spot, though
not very widely known. It is astonishing
what important events are going on every
day, in odd corners of this country, which the
world knows nothing about. When I read
over these trusty folios, which bear the title,
" The General History of the Town
of Pigwacket, from its first settlement until
the present day, comprising an authentic relation
of all its civily military, ecclesiastical^ financial
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 17
and statistical concerns, compiled from origi-
nal records, etc.," and see the great deeds that
hav r e been done in that respectable town, and
the great men that have figured therein, and
reflect that the fame thereof, so far from ex-
tending to the four corners of the earth, has
hardly penetrated as far as Boston, I heave a
sigh for mortal glory, and exclaim in the
words of Euripides,
Et ds yrjg en' ea/aTOig
Oixodsv ecpvg ax av yv loyog aedev.
Knowing that my readers must be impa-
tient for the appearance of the three folios of
the History of Pigwacket, and as they cannot
be put to press for some months, I avail my-
self of this chance to feed their curiosity by
an extract, as the cook at Camancho's wedding
gave Sancho a couple of pullets to stay his
stomach till dinner time. — Take then the
portion contained in Chapter CLXXXVIII.
which begins as follows :
It becomes my lot at this period of the
narrative, to chronicle an event that formed
quite an epoch in the history of the town, or
rather of that part which constituted our
parish. This occurrence may not be deemed
by the world quite so momentous as the De-
7 #
78 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
claration of Independence, or the French re-
volution, but the reader may believe me, it
was a great affair in our community. This
was no less than a mighty feud in church
matters about psalm singing. The whole
parish went by the ears about it, and the
affair gave the community such a rouse, that
many people feared we should never fairly
recover the shock. The particulars were
these.
From time immemorial we had continued
to sing psalms at meeting, as became good
christians and lovers of harmony. But my
readers, accustomed to the improvements of
modern days, have need to be informed that
up to this period, our congregation had prac-
tised this accomplishment according to that
old method of psalmody, known by the desig-
nation of u read-a-line-and-sing-a-line." This
primitive practice, which had first come into
use when hymn books were scarce, was still
persisted in, though the necessity for its con-
tinuance no longer existed. Our church mu-
sic, therefore, exhibited the quaint and patri-
archal alternation of recitation and melody,
if melody it might be called, while some
towns in the neighborhood had adopted the
new fashion, and surprised us by the superi-
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 79
ority of their performances over the rude and
homely chants of old.
But it was not long ere the wish to improve
our style of singing began to show itself
among us. At the first announcement of
such a design, the piety of many of the old
members took the alarm, and the new method
was denounced as heathenish and profane.
The chief personage who figured in the trou-
bles, which arose upon this matter, was Dea-
con Dogskin, a man of scrupulous orthodoxy,
highly dogmatical on theological points, and
a leader of powerful influence in the church.
This dignitary, whose office it had been to
give out the several lines of the psalm as they
were sung, was one of the sturdiest opponents
of the new-fangled psalmody, and set* his face
against the innovation with all the zeal and
devotion of a primitive christian. Unfortu-
nately for him, Deacon Grizzle, his colleague,
took the opposite side of the question, exem-
plifying the vulgar saying, " Two of a trade
can never agree." The discordancy, to tell
the whole truth, between these two worthies
lay in more interests than one, and it is to be
doubted whether they would have come to a
rupture in church affairs, had not their mutual
animosities been quickened by certain tempo-
80 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
ral janglings ; for so it happened that the two
deacons kept each a grocery store, and nei-
ther of them ever let a chance slip of getting
away the other's custom. Sorry I am to re-
cord the frailties of two such reputahle person-
ages, who looked upon themselves as burning
and shining lights in our community, but I
am afraid the fact cannot be concealed, that
the petty bickerings which arose between
them on these little matters of filthy lucre,
were suffered to intrude within the walls of
the sanctuary and stir up the flame of discord
in the great psalm-singing feud ; whereby, as
our neighbor Hopper Paul sagely remarked,
the world may learn wisdom, and lay it down
as a maxim, that church affairs can never
thrive when the deacons are grocers.
Deacon Grizzle, therefore, partly from con-
science and partly from spite, placed himself
at the head of the innovators, and took every
occasion to annoy his associates with all sorts
of ingenious reasons why the singing should
be performed without any intermixture of re-
citation. The younger part of the congrega-
tion were chiefly ranged under his banner,
but the old people mustered strong on the op-
posite side. To hear the disputes that were
carried on upon this point, and the pertinacity
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 81
with which each one maintained his opinion,
an uninformed spectator would have imagin-
ed the interests of the whole christian world
were at stake. In truth, a great many of the
good old souls really looked upon the act of
altering the mode of singing as a departure
from the faith given unto the saints. It was
a very nice and difficult thing to come to a
decision where all parties were so hotly inter-
ested, but an incident which fell out not long
afterward, contributed to hasten the revolu-
tion.
Deacon Dogskin, as I have already re-
marked, was the individual on whom devolv-
ed, by prescriptive right, the duty of giving
out the psalm. The Deacon was in ail things
a stickler for ancient usages ; not only was
he against giving up a hair's breadth of the
old custom, but his attachment to the antique
forms went so far as to embrace all the cir-
cumstances of immaterial moment connected
with them. His predilection for the old tone
of voice was not to be overcome by any en-
treaty, and we continued to hear the same
nasal, snuffling drawl, which, nobody knows
how, he had contracted in the early part of
his deaconship, although on common occa-
sions he could speak well enough. But the
82 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
tone was a part of his vocation ; long use had
consecrated it, and the deacon would have
his way. His psalm-book, too, by constant
use had become to such a degree thumbed
and blurred and torn and worn, that it was a
puzzle how, with his old eyes, he could make
any thing of one half the pages. However,
a new psalm-book was a thing he would
never hear spoken of, for, although the thing
could not be styled an innovation, inasmuch
as it contained precisely the same collocation
of words and syllables, yet it was the removal
of an old familiar object from his sight, and
his faith seemed to be bound up in the greasy
covers and dingy leaves of the volume. So
the deacon stuck to his old psalm-book, and,
by the help of his memory where the letter-
press failed him, he made a shift to keep up
with the singers, who, to tell the truth, were
not remarkable for the briskness of their notes,
and dealt more in semibreves than in demi-semi-
quavers.
But, on a certain day, it happened that the
Deacon, in the performance of his office, stum-
bled upon a line which chanced to be more
than usually thumbed, and defied all his at-
tempts to puzzle it out. In vain he wiped
his spectacles, brought the book close to his
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 83
nose, then held it as far off as possible, then
brought his nose to the book, then took it away
again, then held it up to the light, turned it
this way and that, winked and snuffled and
hemmed and coughed — the page was too
deeply grimed by the application of his own
thumb, to be deciphered by any ocular pow-
er. The congregation were at a dead stand.
They waited and waited, but the Deacon
could not give out the line ; every one stared,
and the greatest impatience began to be mani-
fested. At last Elder Darby, who commonly
took the lead in singing, called out,
" What's the matter, Deacon ? "
" I can't read it," replied the Deacon in a
dolorous and despairing tone.
" Then spell it," exclaimed a voice from
the gallery. All eyes were turned that w T ay,
and it was found to proceed from Tim Crack-
brain, a fellow known for his odd and whim-
sical habits, and respecting whom nobody
could ever satisfy himself w r hether he was
knave, fool, or madman. The deacon was
astounded, the congregation gaped and stared,
but there was no more singing that day. The
profane behavior of Tim caused great scandal,
and he was severely taken in hand by a regular
kirk session.
84 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
This, however, was not the whole, for it
was plainly to be perceived that the old sys-
tem had received a severe blow in this occur-
rence, as no one could deny that such an awk-
ward affair could never have happened in the
improved method of psalmody. The affair
was seized by the advocates of improvement
and turned against their opponents. Deacon
Dogskin and his old psalm-book got into de-
cidedly bad odor ; the result could no longer
be doubtful ; a parish meeting was held, and
a resolution passed to abolish the old system
and establish a singing school. In such a man-
ner departed this life, that venerable relic of ec-
clesiastical antiquity, read-a-line-and-sing-a-line,
and we despatched our old acquaintance to the
tomb of oblivion, unwept, unhonored, but not
unsung.
This event, like all great revolutions, did
not fail to give sad umbrage to many in the
church ; and as to Deacon Dogskin, who had
fought as the great champion of the primitive
system, he took it in such dudgeon that he fell
into a fit of the sullens, which resulted in a
determination to leave a community where
his opinion and authority had been so fla-
grantly set at nought. Within two years,
therefore, he sold off his farm, settled all his
Hopper I'di/J , <//'<! his Choir,
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 85
concerns both temporal and spiritual in the
town, and removed to a village about fifteen
miles distant. His ostensible motive for the
removal was his declining age, which he de-
clared to be unequal to the cultivation of so
large a farm as he possessed in our neighbor-
hood ; but the true reason was guessed at by
every one, as the Deacon could never speak
of the singing school without evident marks
of chagrin.
Be this as it may, we proceeded to organize
the singing school forthwith, for it was de-
termined to do things in style. First of all, it
was necessary to find a singing master who
was competent to instruct us theoretically in
the principles of the art, and put us to the full
discipline of our powers. No one, of course,
thought of going out of the town for this, and
our directors shortly pitched upon a person-
age known to every body by the name of
Hopper Paul. This man knew more tunes
than any other person within twenty miles,
and, for aught we knew, more than any other
man in the world. He could sing Old Hun-
dred, and Little Marlborough, and Saint An-
drews, and Bray and Mear and Tanzar and
Quercy, and at least half a dozen others
whose names I have forgotten, so that he was
looked, upon as a musical prodigy.
8
86 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
I shall never forget Hopper Paul, for both
the sounds and sights he exhibited were such
as could hardly be called earthly. He was
about six feet and a half high, exceedingly
lank and long, with a countenance which at
the first sight would suggest to you the idea
that he had suffered a face-quake, for the dif-
ferent parts of his visage appeared to have
been shaken out of their places and never to
have settled properly together. His mouth
was capable of such a degree of dilatation and
collapse and twisting, that it looked like a
half a dozen pair of lips sewed into one. The
voice to which this comely pair of jaws gave
utterance might have been compared to the
lowing of a cow, or the deepest bass of an
overgrown- bull-frog, but hardly to any sound
made by human organs.
Hopper Paul, possessing all these accom-
plishments, was therefore chosen head singer,
and teacher of the school, which was immedi-
ately set on foot. This was a great affair in
the eyes of all the young persons of both sex-
es, the thing being the first of that sort which
had ever been heard of in our parts ; for
though the natives of the town were a psalm-
singing race, like all genuine New Englanders,
yet they had hitherto learned to sing much in
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 87
the same way as they learned to talk, not by
theory, but in the plainest way of practice,
each individual joining in with the strains
that were chanted at meeting according to
the best of his judgment. In this method, as
the reader may suppose, they made but a
blundering sort of melody, yet as the tunes
were few, and each note drawled out to an
unconscionable length, all were more or less
familiar with their parts, or if they got into
the wrong key, had time to change it ere the
line was ended. But things were now to be
set on a different footing ; great deeds were
to be done, and each one was anxious to
make a figure fn the grand choir. All the
young people of the parish were assembled,
and we began operations.
How we got through our first essays, I
need not say, except that we made awkward
work enough of it. There were a great many
voices that seemed made for nothing but to
spoil all our melody ; but what could we do ?
All were determined to learn to sing, and
Hopper Paul was of opinion that the bad
voices would grow mellow by practice, though
how he could think so whenever he neard
his own, passes my comprehension. However,
we could all raise and fall the notes, and that
88 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
was something. We met two evenings in
each week during the winter, and by the
beginning of spring we had got so well drilled
in the gamut that we began to practise regu-
lar tunes. Now we breathed forth such me-
lodies as I think have seldom been heard
elsewhere ; but as we had no standard of
excellence to show us the true character of
our performances, we could never be aware
that our music was not equal to the harmony
of the spheres. It was thought a peculiar
excellence to sing through the nose, and take
a good reasonable time to swell out every
note. Many of us were apt to get into too
high a key, but that was never regarded,
provided we made noise enough. In short,
after a great deal more practice we were pro-
nounced to be thoroughly skilled in the sci-
ence, for our lungs had been put to such a
course of discipline that every one of us could
roar with a most stentorian grace ; and as to
our commander in chief, no man on earth ever
deserved better than he, the name of Boaner-
ges, or Son of Thunder.
It was decided, therefore, that on Fast day
next, we should take the field ; so we were
all warned to prepare ourselves to enter the
singing seats at the meeting on that eventful
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 89
day. Should I live a thousand years, I shall
never forget it ; this was to be the first public
exhibition of our prowess, and we were ex-
horted to do our best. The exhortation was
unnecessary, for we were as ambitious as the
most zealous of our friends could desire, and
we were especially careful in rehearsing the
tunes before hand. The day arrived, and we
marched in a body to take possession. No
stalwart knights, at a tournament, ever spur-
red their chargers into the lists with more
pompous and important feelings than we
entered the singing seats. The audience, of
course, were all expectation, and when the
hymn w 7 as given out, we heard it with beat-
ing hearts.
It was amusing, however, in the midst of
all our trepidation, to witness the counte-
nance of Deacon Dogskin, who was obliged
to sit facing us during the whole service.
His looks were as sour and cynical as if he
could have driven us out of the house, and he
never vouchsafed to cast a glance at us from
beginning to end of the performance. There
was another person who had been a great
stickler for the ancient usage. This was Elder
Darby, who had been head singer under the
Deacon's administration, and looked upon
8 *
90 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
himself as dividing the honors of that system
with the Deacon himself. He accordingly
fought hard against the innovation, and was
frequently heard to declare that the whole
platform of christian doctrine would be under-
mined, if more than one line was suffered to
be sung at a time. In fact, this personage,
being what is emphatically called a " weak
brother," but full of zeal and obstinacy, gave
us a great deal more trouble than the Deacon,
who was not deficient in common shrewdness,
notwithstanding his oddities. This was a
bitter day, therefore, to Elder Darby, who felt
very awkward at finding his occupation gone,
and his enemies triumphant all in the same
moment.
But we were now called upon to sing, and
every eye, except those of the Deacon and a
few others, was turned upward : the hymn
was given out, Hopper Paul brandished his
pitch-pipe and set the tune, and we began
with stout hearts and strong lungs. Such
sounds had never been heard within those
walls before. The windows rattled, and the
ceiling shook with the echo, in such a manner
that some people thought the great chandelier
would have a down-come. Think of, the
united voices of all the sturdy, able-bodied
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 91
lads and lasses of the parish pouring forth the
most uproarious symphony of linked sweet-
ness long drawn out, that their lungs could
furnish, and you will have some faint idea of
our melodious intonations. At length we
came to a verse in the hymn where the words
chimed in with the melody in such a striking
and effective manner that the result was
overpowering. The verse ran thus : —
So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,
Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
When we struck one after another into the
third line, and trolled forth the reiterations, *
Long for a cooling —
Long for a cooling —
Long for a cooling — coo — oo — ooling,
we verily thought, one and all, that we were
soaring^ up — up — upwards on the combined
euphony of the tune and syllables, into the
seventh heaven of harmony. The congrega-
tion were rapt into ecstacies, and thought they
had never heard music till then. It was a
most brilliant triumph for us ; every voice, as
we thought, though of course the malecontents
must be excepted, struck in with us, and
swelled the loud peal till the walls rung
92 OUR SINGING SCHOOL.
again. But I must not omit to mention the
strange conduct of Elder Darby, who, in the
midst of this burst of enthusiastic approbation,
never relaxed the stern and sour severity of
his looks, but took occasion of the first mo-
mentary pause in the melody, to utter a very
audible and disdainful expression of "Chaff!
chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!"
Deacon Grizzle was by no means slow in
perceiving these manifestations of the Elder's
mortified feelings, and did not fail to join him
on his way home from meeting, for the ex-
press purpose of annoying him further by
commendations of the performances. All he
could get in reply was a further exclamation
of " Chaff ! chaff ! chaff \ chaff ! chaff ! "
In fact the Elder's obstinacy was incurable ;
he was seized during the following w r eek
with a strange deafness in one of his ears,
and as it happened very strangely too, to be
that ear which was turned towards the sing-
ing seats when he sat in his pew, he declared
it would be impossible to hear sufficiently
well on that side of his head, to accompany
the singers : as to altering his position, it w T as
not to be thought of : he had occupied the
same spot for forty years, and could no more
be expected to change his seat than to change
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 93
his creed. The consequence was, that on the
day we began singing, the Elder left off. From
that time forth, he never heard the subject of
church psalmody alluded to, without a chop-
fallen look, a rueful shake of the head, a sad
lamentation over the decline of sound christian
doctrine ; and a peevish and indignant exclama-
tion of " Chaff ! chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!"
BENONI BURDOCK.
A CHARACTER.
" By my troth. Captain, these be very bitter words ! "
K. Henry IV.
Benoni Burdock was a bitter man, and
every thing about him was bitter. He was
the beau ideal, abstraction, incarnation and
concentration of bitterness. Nothing dulcet
entered into his composition, or could be
made to harmonize with any one of his qual-
ities, physical or intellectual. He was born
on a bitter cold day, when the skies were bit-
ter, and every body around him looked and
felt most bitterly. He came into the world in
bitter times, and they have been growing bit-
terer ever since. It was wonderful to see how
rapidly the bitterness of his nature developed
itself. The first time he tasted a sugar-plum
it set him a crying ; but a drop of wormwood
tea restored him to good humor — that is,
such good humor as a body may show in a
bitter way. He never laughed, though he
BENONI BURDOCK. 95
sometimes grinned sullenly a bitter smile.
Sugar candy was an abomination to him.
He was never known to practise the Yankee
trick of licking molasses ; and the mention of
honey made him sick. Gingerbread never
sat well upon his stomach ; sweatmeats made
him faint ; but he delighted in chewing rhu-
barb, flag-root, gentian, mundungus and quas-
sia. Fruit he would not eat, except choke-
pears, and he thought no flowers fit to be smelt
at but rue and skunk-cabbage.
Such was the birth, infancy and youth of
Benoni Burdock, bitter — bitter — bitter. As
he advanced in life he grew bitterer still ; his
whole career was a most beautiful develop-
ment of bitterness. He never fell in love —
not he ; that was too sweet a passion. He
was not amorous, as Dr Heavyside remarked,
attempting a ponderous pun ; he was amaris-
simus. He lived all alone, because the peo-
ple about him had sweet faces. He kept a
great snarling dog, with a most surly and
spiteful visage. Benoni thought him a beau-
ty, because he always looked bitterly even
when gnawing his bones.
As for Benoni himself, his looks cannot be
expressed in language. If my inkstand held
all the streams of Marah and Cocytus, it
96 BENONl BURDOCK.
could not supply a requisite for the descrip-
tion of the bitterness of that visage of his.
The sight of it would make you think of all
the bitter diseases that flesh is heir to, — hypo,
blue-devils, megrims, mulligrubs, northeast-
ers, notes-to-pay, and all sorts of diabolical
despondencies. To take his word for it, Be-
noni was never well in his life ; he always
had li a terrible pain in the stomach," or was
u in a poor state of health," or was u falling
fast," or " doing miserably," or was " not
long for this world," or in some such dismal
way.
It is wonderful to see how many bitter
ways there are of enjoying life. Benoni Bur-
dock was a perfect adept in this art ; he ex-
tracted bitterness from every thing. He was
bitter habitually, and sour by way of a
change. He drank hardly any thing but
Stoughton's elixir, and once quarrelled with
his father, because, instead of strong beer, he
gave him a glass of Mother Cob's mild. He
always had his meat overdone, to give it a
sooty flavor, and could not endure any sauce
that did not taste puckery. As for medicine,
pills were too sweet for him ; his favorite dose
was coloquintida, though there were varia-
tions of bitterness in his humor when he
BENONI BURDOCK. 97
could endure hiera picra. His recreation
was reading Fast Day sermons, and his feli-
city foul weather,
Benoni was fond of music, but it was mu-
sic of a particular sort. He delighted to hear
the filing of a handsaw, the yelping of a dog,
a cat-concert, the singing of a northwester
through a cranny, the clack of a scolding
woman, the grinding of an ungreased wheel
and the roaring of a bull-frog. He could
sing, after a fashion, and amused himself
with all sorts of bitter tunes, such as " Oh I
there '11 be mourning/' — The Tongs and the
Bones, — Dirge in the Dumps, and Billings's
Jargon. He had a cage hanging up in his
room, where he kept — not a canary bird or
a bob o'link, but a beautiful little screech-
owl. There was also a cricket under his
hearth, and when the owl screeched, the
cricket squeaked, the tea-kettle sighed, and the
sappy fore-stick on the fire set up a groaning,
then Benoni felt the full enjoyment of bitter-
ness. He would strike in and sing his favor-
ite air, " Let 's all be happy together ! "
Benoni, too, was fond of the fine arts. He
had all sorts of bitter looking portraits hang-
ing in his room, such as Richard the Third,
Djezzer Pasha, Caracalla, Commodore Trun-
9
98 BENONI BURDOCK.
nion, Ancient Pistol, and Old Put. Benoni's
literature showed the same exquisite taste. He
learnt all sorts of bitter words and objurgatory
ejaculations. In philosophy he was a decided
cynic, and he knew Rochefoucault by heart.
He thought highly of Timon of Athens, and
was an indefatigable collector of Fast Day
sermons ; but his favorite reading was Doctor
Gall.
Some people may think Benoni was mise-
rable in consequence of all this. Never was
a greater mistake. Benoni was happy, be-
cause bitterness was enjoyment to him. Did
you ever take notice, gentle reader, of the
lives of these grumbling, bitter people ? They
are " sick of the world," they are " tired of
existence," " such things will kill them,"
they are " just going," and all that — and yet
how long-lived they are ! They survive all
their cheerful neighbors. No misfortunes, no
catastrophes, no sufferings, hinder them from
growing gray under all their calamities. The
wonder is they ever die at all. Grumbling
is the life of them.
Just so with Benoni ; he was always hap-
piest when there was most bitterness about
him. The more bitter things he could say,
the more bitter things he could do, the more
BENONI BURDOCK. 99
bitter things he could hear of, the more he
thrived. He felt bitterly towards all the
world, though there was no partiality in that,
for he was quite as bitter towards himself.
He was a friend to nobody except bitter ene-
mies. He was always uneasy during peace-
able times, and I verily believe he would
have died long ago, had things gone smoothly ;
but there have been such bitter doings of late
that Benoni has been able to grumble on.
I have spoken of this bitter genius in the
past tense, though I am not certain that he
has actually taken his leave of the bitterness
of this mundane state. The last time I saw
him was a few months ago, when we took a
glass of bitters together, by way of sweetening
our conversation. It was a raw, easterly day
— emphatically bitter ; I knew such weather
would bring him out. He was as bitter as
ever I knew him, and gave a most ludicro-
dolorous grin when I complimented him upon
the flourishing state of his bitter old age. He
talked in the usual strain, for he was always
bitterly croaking. These were bitter hard
times, bitter prospects for the country ; things
were in a bitter state, "money was tight,"
there was a " horrible pressure," the "banks
wouldn't discount, the country was "going
100 BENONI BURDOCK.
to ruin," " trade was overdone," there would
"bean awful crash before long," — and what
not.
Such was Benoni Burdock, and such were his
rare virtues. May they be duly honored by all
who are just like him. If my readers do not
recollect the identical man, they know many of
his family, who, though they cannot copy him in
full perfection, yet try very hard to do it. Suc-
cess betide them, for their own sake, though not
for that of other folks. But enough of Benoni.
Let us sweeten our thoughts by talking of some-
thing else ; though if any body wishes for the
bitterness of his acquaintance, I think his lodgings
may be found at the lower end of Wormwood
Alley,
DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST.
Some folks there are who never stiut to
Tell fibs, and publish them in print too .
And various books that I 've clipp'd into,
Plain truth have scouted.
Ev'n Gulliver and Mendez Pinto
I 've sometimes doubted.
And some old dames, sedate and cool,
Will stuff" your ears with stories full,
About a rooster and a bull,
With grave grimaces.
And saintly rogues the long-bow pull,
With solemn faces.
And greybeards in three-comer'd scrapers,
Have told me tales by midnight tapers,
Where tacts have cut suspicious capers,
Bouncing, ail hollow.
And stories oft get in the papers
'That I can't swallow.
This is a theme I 'd fain rehearse on,
For lying tales I lay my curse on :
But this which now I hitch my verse on,
'T would be audacity
To disbelieve, for 1 7 m a person
Of strict veracity.
9#
102 DEATH AJftJD DOCTOR SAWDUST.
Laat night as I Efoll'd out, remarking
In my cool way, young roysters larking,
And jovial gallants gaily sparking
In wild excursion,
And round odd corners slily sharking,
Just for diversion.
The giant whale with watery spout,
Had queuch'd the flaming dog- star out,
And Mars had put the moon to rout,
Battling a wager,
And clouds were muzzling close the snout
Of Ursa Major.
And blasts from hyperborean climes,
Began to ring northwestern chimes
Across my teeth, cold as the rhymes
Of temperance sinners,
Which taper off at certain times,
Tee-total dinners.
And down the street in darkness faring,
Behold ! a bony spectre glaring
Full in my face ! I started, staring,
And cried, " I 'm done !
'T is Gaffer Death, my doom preparing,
" Sure as a gun!"
You '11 guess he had but thin attire,
For through his ribs as he drew nigher,
I saw with consternation dire
The sky gleam sadder,
As plain as ever you could spy a
Hole through a ladder.
DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 103
And then — don't think I tell you lies —
My feet refused from earth to rise,
Firm to the ground that dread surprise
And fright did pin them,
While Death roll'd up his saucer eyes
With nothing in them.
And face to face a moment looking,
My brains in fiery fever cooking,
And then his lanky elbow crooking,
With creak to scare ye,
He made a snatch, my knuckles hooking,
And cried, " How fare ye ? n
Eh sirs ! 'T was not with mickle glee,
I hail'd such ghostly company?
But sheer death-struck, I could not flee,
So roar'd the faster,
And cried " Hands ofT! for I 'm, d'ye see,
Meat for your master !
"And, Goodman Bones, don't think to claw
Your game without some tug of war,
On this highway, you know, the law
Forbids to forage :
So now, old Small-Back, save your paw
To stir your porridge."
Then with his fist in desperate slap,
He gave his long thigh-bone a rap,
And twitch'd his jaws into a snap
Of screeching laughter,
And cried " By Jove ! you're not the chap
I 'm looking after !
104 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST.
" Ods zooks ! this blundering beats the Dutch !
My friends have multiplied so much,
I really have not claws to clutch,
Nor place to thrust 'em .
My shanks were never tir'd with such
A run of custom.
" Perhaps you 're wondering what I ' m at.
Sit down ; let 's have a bit of chat,
For here 's a seat will suit us pat,
Though 'tis a cold one."
" Agreed," said I, and tipp'd my hat,
" Your servant, Old one !"
" But after you "— said he. " No no !"
And then we both congeed,and so
Sat down with awkward scrapes I trow,
And odd vagaries,
Just by the door of Smith & Co.
Apothecaries.
• ( 7 T is true," I cried, " see how we drop,
December coughs our windpipes stop,
And dire pleuretics deadly pop
Our mortal gumptions.
I '11 warrant you 've a good fat crop
Of ripe consumptions!"
" You quite mistake," said Death, " I hope, ah !
I 'm not quite such a greedy groper ;
But there 's a quacking interloper.
That keeps me trotting,
And kills each day some luckless moper,
His brains besotting.
DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 105
" Perhaps you 've heard him named by some-
Sylvester Sawdust, alias Fum.
He 's got no brains , not half a crumb,
Big as a button,
Yet many a flat contrives to gum
Out of his mutton.
" He gravely gulls the green-horns raw,
Peddling and preaching lentenlaw,
And wags away his twaddling jaw,
In crackskull tattle,
How men should go to munching straw,
Like four-foot cattle.
" And drench their throats with vile milksoppery,
And bran and corn-cob lollipoppery,
And porridge draff and dish-wash moppery,
— Sawdust, the jewel I
Stews out of all such piddling sloppery,
Starvation gruel .
M And swears with blarney multibrogous,
If this dog's-drench cachexagogous,
We suck like calves and soundly cogue us,
The vile bamboozler !
Long w« shall live as Tantrabogus,
And old Methusaleh !
" This nonsense babbled, straight a host
Of dolts as brainless as a post,
Gape and believe the stupid boast.
His bran potation
They SAvallow and give up the ghost
In quick starvation.
106 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST.
" You ? ]1 recollect sweet Peter Puff,
That hearty, thumping, fat old chuff,
Wrapp'd up in fleshy covering tough,
No puny packet,
But something that would stoutly stuff,
Old Falstaff's jacket.
" Who loved to hear roast mutton sizzling,
And good fat cheer on all sides mizzling,
And no more needed peptic drizzling
With porridge puddly,
Than my bare noddle wants a frizzling
Of Bogue and Dudley.
" Sawdust has played his flesh the thief,
And pining under bran and grief,
His luckless bones are barr'd relief,
With such a veto,
You might as well look out for beef
On a moscheto.
" Old Gabriel Gobbs, whose brawny flanks
Fill'd up three aldermen's broad ranks,
With Sawdust's trash has play'd such pranks,
His vitals coddling,
That now, full speed, on spindle shanks,
To death he 's toddliug.
" That pursy rogue too, Gideon Grinner,
I guess you '11 find a little thinner,
What do you think? — the crack-brain'd sinner,
— An't it amazing ?
Won't touch a bit of christian dinner,
But goes a grazing 1
DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 107
" A half-starved eel you never skinn'd
So lank and bare ; Good George ! I 've grinn'd
To see fat ribs by Sawdust thinn'd
In such a fashion,
That, by the Lord ! to clip his wind,
Would be compassion.
" And I protest, 't is quite concerning,
To see the flesh their bodies spurning,
And pale their hatchet faces turning,
As cotton towels.
Ugh! 't is a sight that sets to yearning
My bony bowels."
To hear death flame so hot and blazy,
Against his friend, quite made me mazy,
And thus in intellectuals hazy,
I thought pathetical —
" Old Father Long-legs sure is crazy,
Or struck poetical !"
Then waggishly my numskull swinging,
Said I, " Old Bones, my ears are ringing
To hear you thus sad curses stringing,
With such ill will,
Against the beast who 's only bringing
Grist to your mill."
But here he caught me in a blunder,
For straight he roar'd a laugh like thunder,
And sneering cried, as I for wonder,
Held in my breath, —
" D' ye think there's no compassion under
The ribs of Death 1
108 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST.
" 'T is not quite fair to raise a cry,
Should my cadaverous temper fly
A hit excited when I spy
Such wholesale slaughter.
Since ev'n your temperance folks get high
Upon cold water.*
u To do plain jobs I 'm not unwilling,
A fair knock-down is nobly thrilling,
And blood in glorious battle spilling,
No doubt 's delectable.
But this low, scurvy mode of killing
Don't look respectable.
u There's no vile cheat when dropsies drown
The mumps in honest warfare frown,
Fever and gout lay waste the town,
Foul treachery scorning.
And cholera never knocks you down
Without fair warning.
<l And plague in sounding terror comes,
And carnage snaps her giant thumbs
With pomp of trumpets and of drums ;
But 't would have shock'd her,
To gobble up the sneaking crumbs
Of a quack doctor !
* Lest Gaffer Death should lie|[suFpected or stretching the truth here,
we will subjoin a statement of the fact, from the Boston ' Temperance
Journal and Total Abstinence Gazette' in the description of the din-
ner at the Marltu ro House, July 4th, 1837.
"Grave Senators and Representatives, mechanics, clergymen, doc-
tors, farmers, traders of all sorts, merchants, laborers and lawyers,
got downright high over Rogers's pure iced water."
This statement, of course, can be relied upon ; and Dr Dryasdust
tells us he has no doubt of it, for the speeches reported on the occasion,
were such as could not have been uttered by sober men.
DEATH AND DOCTOR sawdust. 109
t! But Boston throats are wide enough,
And swallow lumps so crude and tough.
My wits an't worth a pinch of snuff,
Ev'n could I cool them,
To guess what monstrous crack-brain stuft
Will next befool them.
•' Tell them a tale of three black crows.
Humbug, as plain as my ten toes,
And down the quacking nonsense goes
Sure to besot one."
Here Death tried to turn up his nose,
But had n't got one.
" You ! d not believe how many score
Have Sawdust's quackery to deplore,
Despatch'd as dead as nail in door,
Each luckless wailer.
They fall like cabbage-heads before
A starving tailor.
■' But bide a wee, and vengeance mickle
Shall snap him up, and I won't stickle,
For there 's a special rod in pickle,
I'll soon be shaking.
Then to a T, his hide I '11 tickle,
And no mistaking !
" I '11 not with club his noddle crack,
Nor lay lumbago on his back,
Nor send the colic's pinching rack,
To spoil his quiet.
But faith ! I '11 dose the dirty quack
With his own diet !
10
110 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST.
" Some hundreds more I '11 let him slay,
Then by the heels the loon 1 5 J1 lay ;
I 've nicked his obit to a day ;
Although, by jingo!
Such things I am forbid to say
In earthly lingo.
" I'll tell ye that in mystic glamour." —
But just as he began to stammer,
The Old South clock's portentous hammer
Let fall a " bang- J"
His backbone rattled with the clamor,
And up he sprang —
Then disappeared in darkness thick,
I clutch'd amain my crabtree stick,
And down the street I toddled quick,
In tremors nervous.
And so, from Sawdust and Old Nick
The Lord preserve us I
THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS.
Prithee ! Look there !
Macbeth.
Believing in ghosts, somebody remarks, is
like the sea-sickness when it first comes on.
Nobody will confess, but every body has mis-
givings. I must make myself an exception ;
for I am willing to confess both ghosts and
sea-sickness. Beyond a certain point, how-
ever, I am not disposed to place the two phe-
nomena upon an equality, for I am bound to
confess that I should prefer seeing twenty
ghosts to being sea-sick once. Ghosts, indeed,
are favorites with me ; and having enjoyed the
advantage of seeing a great number, I can
speak with some confidence about them. A
great many people talk sheer nonsense on the
subject ; indeed, not one in ten ever speaks of
a ghost in a becoming style. All this has led
to many mistaken notions in demonology.
The long and the short of it is, that ghosts
have been very badly treated by people in
general, and if we do not turn over a new
112 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS.
leaf, I am under some apprehensions that the
whole army of sprites will discontinue their
visits, in resentment of these affronts, so that
before long, there will not be a ghost to be seen
for love, money, or murder. This catastrophe,
I grieve to say, seems to be approaching
already, for ghosts are not half so common as
they were in the days of my grandmother.
Strict justice, however, compels me to say,
that the ghosts themselves are somewhat to
blame in the matter, their behavior at times
being a little antic and anomalous. There are
faults on both sides ; which hoping I may rem-
edy, I offer the following suggestions for the
consideration of both parties, and let ghosts and
ghost-seers lay them to heart.
In the first place, a ghost should never
wear a night-cap. Some readers may doubt
whether the thing has ever been done ; but
the fact is unquestionable ; ghosts in night-
caps have been seen by too many credible
persons to allow of any doubt upon this point.
I protest, however, against any such head-
dress for a member of the tartarean regions ;
it is unghostly, and ought to be abandoned.
If a ghost has any sense of propriety, let him
appear with a bare sconce ; it is much more
respectable. Some indulgence may perhaps
THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 113
be claimed for a bald ghost, especially consid-
ering the coolness of the night air. My great-
grandfather, who was a ghost-seer of some
talent, used to recommend a wig ; but this, I
think, would never be endured : a ghost in a
wig ! what an unspiritual costume. No, —
wigs will never do. A white handkerchief
might serve every purpose, provided it were
not tied on, for that would look night-cappish
again.
Secondly, a ghost should never pull a man
by the nose. Here again I may be asked,
" Have ghosts ever been addicted to nose-
pulling?" I am not certain; but the story
goes that they have. I pronounce it wrong
in toto ; it is undignified and improper. If a
ghost wishes to give any person so sensible a
token of his presence, let him bestow a sound
bang upon his noddle : this would be em-
phatic and decisive ; there would be no mis-
take about it. But as to our noses, — hands
off ! No ghost that has any regard for his
character, will clap his digits to your olfactory
projection. This suggests another thought.
Ought a ghost to be allowed to take snuff?
!My aunt Grizzel says, yes, if he can keep
from sneezing. On mature consideration, I
say no, unless it be the ghost of a tobacconist.
10*
114 THOUGHTS ON 3EEING GHOSTS.
Thirdly, a ghost should be nice in his eat-
ing : he should not eat too much, nor of the
wrong dishes. Some kinds of victuals are
unfit for a ghost to eat, and sound very oddly
when they are mentioned in connection with
a visitor from the invisible world. An old
lady of my acquaintance knew a ghost that
came one Saturday night into her kitchen and
ate half a dozen pig's trotters and a plate of
minced fish. Another drank a quart of sour
cider, but was observed to make a horrible
wry face at it. These ghosts might plead
their appetite, having travelled probably a
good distance ; but I think they ought to .
have gone further and fared worse. In fact,
I object to eating altogether ; but if it must be
done, let them help themselves to light food,
and by all means join the Temperance So-
ciety.
Fourthly, a ghost, when he appears in
metamorphosis, should come in a shape befit-
ting the sublimity of his character. I knew a
ghost once that came in the shape of a tea-
pot, and another that took the form of a leg
of mutton. These are unghostly shapes ; for
what have legs of mutton and tea-pots to do
in the invisible world ? My uncle Tim saw
one in the shape of a militia colonel : it is a
THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 115
pity that any ghost should ever have made
such a fool of himself. A justice of peace
once told me that he saw a ghost in the shape
of a great jackass ; but it was probably no-
thing more than his own shadow.
Fifthly, there are various points of behavior
in ghosts, to which we may reasonably object.
Ghosts may walk or run as fast as they please,
but they ought not to cut capers. Some may
say it is difficult for them to avoid this, con-
sidering how light they are ; but that is their
affair and not ours. A ghost, I maintain,
ought to behave with sobriety, and not play
fantastic tricks. My aunt Grizzel, for in-
stance, saw a ghost jump over a broomstick,
and another grinding coffee : now any body
could do these things, therefore a ghost ought
not to do them. A ghost was seen once, that
jumped over a dining-table, flung three som-
ersets in the air, and made sixteen pirouettes
on the tip of his right toe, without putting
himself out of breath : I have no doubt this
was the ghost of a Frenchman.
Sixthly, besides the rules I have laid down
on the subject of night-caps, ghosts ought to
be particular in their dress. Some ghosts
dress so absurdly that they are not worth
looking at when the lights burn blue, as
116 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS.
enough such figures may be seen by broad
daylight. Ghosts have been known to wear
snuff-colored breeches ! and I have even
known a ghost in cow-hide boots ! Is this fit
costume for a hobgoblin ? Really, such
ghosts ought to be taught better. Habili-
ments like these can never inspire a ghostly
dread in any spectator, even in a church-yard
by the light of the moon or when the clock
strikes midnight : they are entirely out of
keeping. I have heard of a ghost that always
came in a new coat, smartly buttoned up,
and a spandy clean dickey. This must have
heen the ghost of a tailor. A tolerably good
color for a ghost is black ; pepper-and-salt
will hardly do : though I should not have
much objection to that sort of homespun
called thunder-and-lightning. But, after all
that can be said in favor of fancy colors,
nothing is equal to a white sheet ; for, when
gracefully thrown on, there is nothing be-
comes a ghost so well. ^
Seventhly, ghosts should talk good Eng-
lish, and by all means avoid poetry, for most
of the ghost-rhymes current are as bad as any
stuff I ever saw in the newspapers. Ghosts
ought to maintain a certain tone of loftiness
and dignity in their conversation, and not
THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 117
gabble like so many tinkers. What could a
ghost be thinking of, who talked in this man-
ner : " Then says the man to the ghost,
c Who are you ? ' — 'I 'm the ghost of old
Slouch, the red-nosed tallow-chandler,' says
he. ' What do you want here ? ' says the
man. ' I 'm only haunting this soap-barrel,'
says the ghost. c I smell brimstone,' says the
man. 4 Merely candle-snuff,' says the ghost.
4 Know of any money buried here ? ' says
the man. ' Only five shillings in the toe of a
stocking,' says the ghost. ' Well,' says the
man, l in all my life, I never heard a ghost
talk as you do,' " &c. &c. Yet this conver-
sation actually passed as related. My great-
grandmother's second cousin knew the man
perfectly well, and he was a person of un-
doubted veracity. This ghost certainly did
not maintain the majesty of his character :
and it is a mark of improvement in demon-
ology, that ghosts stand more upon their digni-
ty nowadays.
People who are troubled with ghosts may
be anxious to know the best means of laying
them, and whether they ought to be sent to
the infernal regions, or the Red Sea. On the
latter point I may remark that I consider the
Red Sea the safest, because, if sen: to the
IIS THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS.
first-mentioned place, some people might find
themselves under a necessity of renewing ac-
quaintance with them another day. Some
ghosts are more difficult to lay than others.
The hardest of all is the ghost of a deputy
sheriff. When once a man is haunted by
such an apparition, his case is desperate. No
sprite or hobgoblin sticks closer to a man than
this. He walks by day as well as by night,
and his spectral form glides up and down
'change, as well as the church-yard. The
phantom stares you in the face at the turning
of every corner, and lucky will you be if you
feel not the magic influence of his touch,
which is able to communicate a more disa-
greeable shock than a torpedo or a galvanic
battery. This spirit can flit through key-holes
and under the crack of a door, and if he once
taps you on the shoulder, you are fixed by
enchantment to the spot, Jhe only effectual
mode of laying the ghost is by certain charm-
ed scraps of paper, all covered over with ca-
balistical figures and marks of 5 — 10 — 20,
&c, which being waved in the air before his
face, the spectre disappears.
JOSH BEANPOLE'S COURTSHIP.
As pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.
As You Like It.
" Mother ! " exclaimed Josh Beanpole,
" Mother, I say, I feel all over in a twittera-
tion like. Huh ! huh ! Who 'd have thought
it ? "
" What ails ye, Josh ? " asked the old wo-
man, stopping her spinning wheel at this
exclamation. u What bug has bit you
now ? "
" Can't tell," said Josh, in a drooping, do-
lorous tone, and hanging his head as if he had
been caught stealing a sheep.
"Can't tell," said Mrs Beanpole, turning
quite round, and giving Josh a wondering
stare. u Can't tell ? what does the critter
mean
? »
" Who 'd ha' thought it ? " repeated Josh,
fumbling in his pockets, twisting round his
head and rolling up his eyes in a fashion
most immensely sheepish. — " Hannah Dow-
120
ner's courted ! " Here Josh shuffled himself
awkwardly into the settle in the chimney
corner, and sunk upon one side, fixing his
eyes with a most ludicro-dismal squint upon
the lower extremity of a pot-hook that hung
at the end of the crane.
" Courted ! " exclaimed Mrs Beanpole, not
exactly comprehending the state of her son's
intellectuals. " Well — what's all that when
it 's fried ?
" Arter so many pails of water as I 've
pumped for her," said Josh in a dismal whine,
— u for to go for to let herself to be courted
by another feller ! "
" Here 's a to-do ! " ejaculated the old
woman.
" It 's tarnation all over ! " said Josh, be-
ginning a bolder tone as he found his mother
coming to an understanding of the matter.
u It makes me crawl all over to think on 't.
Did n't I wait on her three times to singing
school ? Had n't I e'en a most made up my
mind to break the ice, and tell her I should n't
wonder if I had a sneakin' notion arter some-
body's Hannah ? I should ha' been reglar
courting in less than a month, — and Peet
Spinbutton has cut me out — as slick as a
whistle ! "
josh beanpole's courtship. 121
u Peet Spinbutton I " said the old woman —
" Well, I want to know I "
" Darn his eyes I " exclaimed Josh.
" Peet Spinbutton [''repeated Mrs Bean-
pole ; " what, the ensign of the Dogtown
Blues ? — that great lummokin' feller 1 "
" Darn him to darnation ! " exclaimed Josh ?
catching hold of the toast-iron as if he meant
to lay about him — "to cut in afore me in
that ere sort o' way I "
Mrs Beanpole caught Josh by the arm, ex-
claiming, " Josh I Joshy ! Joshy ! what are
you about ? Peet Spinbutton ? I don't be-
lieve it."
" What ! " said Josh, " did n't I hear with
my own ears, last night that ever was, Zeb
Shute tell me all about it ? "
"Zeb Shute? — well, what did Zeb Shute
say ? »
u Why, says he to me — Josh, says he>
what do you think, says he — I don't know,
no, n't I, says I. — Tell you what, says he
— that 'ere Hannah Downer — What of Han-
nah Downer? says I — for I begun to crawl
all over. — Tell ye what, says he — she's
a whole team. — Ah, says I, she 's a whole
team and a horse to let. — Tell ye what, says
he, guess somebody has a sneakin' notion that
11
way. — Shouldn't wonder, says I, feeling all
over in a flustration, thinkin' he meant me.
Tell ye what, says he, — guess Peet Spinbut-
ton and she 's pretty thick together. — How
you talk, says I. — Fact, says he. — Well, I
never, says I. — Tell ye what, says he —
No, that 's all he said."
"Pooh!" said the old woman, " it 's all
wind, Joshy, it 's nothing but Zeb Smite's
nonsense."
u Do you think so ? " exclaimed Josh, with
a stare of uncommon animation, and his mouth
wide open.
" No doubt on 't Joshy, my boy," replied
she, " for Peggy Downer was here yesterday
forenoon, to borrow a cup of starch, and she
never mentioned the leastest word about it
under the light of the livin' sun."
u If I was only sure of that ! " said Josh,
laying down the toast-iron and sticking his
knuckles into his right eye.
" Joshy, my boy," said the old woman, " I
don't believe Hannah Downer ever gin Peet
Spinbutton the leastest encouragement in the
universal world."
" Think so ? " asked Josh, setting his el-
bows on his knees, his chin in his fists, and
fixing his eyes vacantly downward in an an-
josh beanpole's courtship. 123
gle of fortyfive degrees, as if in intense admi-
ration of the back-log.
" I '11 tell you what, Joshy," said Mrs Bean-
pole, in a motherly tone, " do you just put on
your go-to-meetin' suit, and go to see Hannah
this blessed night."
< ; Eh!" exclaimed Josh, starting from his
elbows at the astounding boldness of the sug-
gestion, and gazing straight up the chimney.
Do you think she 'd let me ? "
Nothin' like try in', Joshy ; — must be a
first time. Besides, the old folks are going
to lecture, Hannah '11 be all alone — hey !
Joshy, my boy ! — Nothin' like tryin'."
"Eh! eh" said Josh, screwing himself
all up in a heap and staring most desperately
at the lower button of his own waistcoat —
for the thoughts of actually going a courting
same over him in a most alarming fashion ;
"would ye though, mother? Hannah's a
nice gal, but somehow or other I feel plaguy
queer about it."
"Oh, that's quite naiteral, Joshy; when
you once get a goin' it be nothin' at all."
" Higgle, giggle, giggle," said Josh, making
a silly, sputtering kind of laugh — "that's
the very thing I 'm afraid of, that 'ere gettin'
a goin' — Hannah Downer is apt to be tarna-
cc
124 josh beanpole's courtship.
tion smart sometimes ; and I 've hearn tell,
that courtin' is the hardest thing in the world
to begin, though it goes on so slick arter-
wards."
"Nonsense, Josh, you silly dough-head;
it 's only saying two words, and it all goes
as straight as a turnpike."
"By the hokey ! " said Josh, rolling up his
eyes and giving a punch with his fist in the
air, " I 've an all-fired mind to try it though ! "
Josh and his mother held a much longer
colloquy upon the matter, the result of which
was such an augmentation of his courage for
the undertaking, that the courtship was ab-
solutely decided upon ; and just after dark,
Josh gave his face a sound scrubbing with
soap suds, drew forth his Sunday pantaloons,
which were of the brightest cow-color, and
after a good deal of labor, succeeded in get-
ting into them, his legs being somewhat of
the longest, and the pantaloons as tight as a
glove, so that on seeing him fairly incased, it
was somewhat of a puzzle to guess how he
could ever get out of them. A flaming red
waistcoat, and a gray coat with broad pewter
buttons, set off his figure to the greatest ad-
vantage, to say nothing of a pair of bran new
cow-hide shoes. Then rubbing his long hair
with a tallow candle, and sprinkling a handful
of Indian meal by way of powder, he twisted
it behind with a leather string into a formid-
able queue, which he drew so tight that it
was with the greatest difficulty he could shut
his eyes ; but this gave him but little con-
cern, as he was determined to be wide awake
through the whole affair. Being all equipt,
he mounted Old Blueberry, and set off at an
easy trot, which very soon fell into a walk,
for the nearer Josh approached the dwelling
of his Dulcinea, the more the thought of his
great undertaking overpowered him.
Josh rode four times round the house before
he found courage to alight ; at length he
made a desperate effort and pulled up under
the lee side of the barn, where he dismount-
ed, tied his horse, and approached the house
with fear and trembling. At two rods dis-
tance he stopped short. There was a dead
silence, and he stood in awful irresolution.
All at once a terrible voice, close at hand,
caused him to start with great trepidation : —
it was nothing but a couple of turkeys who
had set up a gobbling from their roost on the
top of the barn. Josh looked up, and beheld
by the light of the moon, the old turkey cosily
perched by the side of his mate : the sight
11*
126 josh beanpole's courtship.
was overpowering. " Ah ! happy, happy-
turkey ! " he mentally exclaimed, and turned
about to proceed up the yard, but the next
moment felt a violent cut across the broadest
part of his nose. He started back again, but
discovered it to be only a clothes-line which
he had run against. — " The course of true
love never did run smooth." He went fear-
fully on, thinking of the connubial felicities
of the turkey tribe, and the perils of clothes-
lines, till he found himself at the door, where
he stood fifteen minutes undetermined what
to do ; and if he had not bethought himself of
the precaution of peeping in at the window, it
is doubtful whether he would have mustered
the courage to enter. But peep he did, and
spied Hannah all alone at her knitting-work.
This sight emboldened him, and he bolted in
without knocking.
What precise sort of compliments Josh
made use of in introducing himself, never
could be discovered, for Josh labored under
such a confusion of the brain at the time, that
he lost all recollection of what passed till he
found himself seated in a flag-bottomed chair
with a most uncomfortably deep hollow in it.
He looked up, and actually saw Hannah sit-
ting in the chimney corner knitting a pepper-
and-salt stocking.
127
" Quite industrious to-night," said Josh.
" Don't know that," replied Hannah.
" Sure on 't," returned Josh. " Guess now
you 've knit from four to six pearl at the lowest
calculation."
u Should n't wonder," replied Hannah.
" Tarnation ! " said Josh, pretending to be
struck with admiration at the exploit, though he
knew it was nothing to boast of.
" How 's your mother, Josh ? " asked Han-
nah.
" Pretty considerable smart, Hannah ; how 's
your mother ? "
" So, so," replied Hannah ; and here the
conversation came to a stand.
Josh fumbled in his pockets and stuck his
legs out till they reached nearly across the room y
in hopes to think of something more to say ' T
but in vain. He then scratched his head, but
there appeared to be nothing in it. "Is 't pos-
sible," thought he, u that I 'm actually here a
courting ? " He could hardly believe it, and
began to feel very awkward.
" I swow ! " he exclaimed, opening his eyes
as wide as he could.
" What's the matter ? " asked Hannah, a lit-
tle startled.
" Cotch a 'tarnal great musquash this fore-
noon."
128 josh beanpole's courtship.
e{ Ah ! " said Hannah, " how big was it ? "
" Big as all out-doors ! n
" Lawful heart ! " exclaimed Hannah.
Josh now felt a little more at his ease, find-
ing the musquash helped him on so bravely.
He hitched his chair about seven feet at a single
jerk, nearer to Hannah, and exclaimed, " Tell
ye what, Hannah, I 'm all creation for catching
musquashes."
" Well, I want to know ! ? ' replied Hannah.
Josh twisted his eyes into a squint, and gave
her a look of melting tenderness. Hannah
perceived it, and did not know whether to
laugh or be ' scared ; so, to compromise the
matter, she pretended to be taken with a fit of
coughing. Josh felt his heart begin to beat,
and was fully convinced he was courting or
something very like it ; but what to do next
was the question. " Shall I kiss her ? " thought
he. "No, no, it 's a leetle too early for that ;
but I '11 tell her I love her. 1 ' At this thought
his heart went bump ! bump ! bump ! harder
than ever. " Hannah ! " he exclaimed in a
squeaking voice, and stopped short.
"Hey ! Josh," said Hannah.
" Hannah, I I " he rolled up the
whites of his eyes, in a most supplicating leer,
but the word stuck in his throat. Hannah
12$
looked directly in his face ; he was in a dread-
ful puzzle what to say, for he was obliged to say
something. His eye fell by accident on a grid-
iron hanging in the chimney corner — u What
a terrible crack your gridiron 's got in it ! " ex-
claimed he.
" Poh ! " said Hannah.
Here the conversation came again to a dead
stop, for Josh had so exhausted himself in
this effort to break the ice, that he was not
master of his faculties for several minutes ;
and when he came fairly to his senses, he found
himself counting the tickings of an old wooden
clock that stood in the corner. He counted
and counted till he had numbered three hundred
and ninetyseven ticks y when he luckily heard a
cow lowing out of doors.
" Ugh ! " said he, " whose cow 's that ? "
" Drummer Tucker's," replied Hannah.
c; Drummer Tucker's ! Well, I want to
know ! "
This reply suggested an idea. ''Hannah,' 7 *
asked he, "did you ever see a dromedary ? ' ;
" No, — - did you, Josh ? "
" No," returned Josh, " I never see nothin r
in my life but a green monkey ; and then I
was a' most skeered to death ! "
"Lawful heart! Mercy's sake!" exclaim-
ed Hannah, and here the conversation came to
a pause again.
The longer they sat, the more awkwardly
Josh found himself situated ; he sat bolt up-
right in his chair, with his knees close togeth-
er and his head stooping forward in such a
manner that his long queue stuck out hori-
zontally behind, and his eyes stuck out hori-
zontally before, like those of a lobster. For
several minutes he sat contemplating the han-
dle of the warming-pan that hung by the side
of the fireplace ; and then gradually elevat-
ing his line of vision, came in sight of a huge
crook-necked squash lying on the mantel-
piece. Then he looked at Hannah, and then
at the dish-cloth in the mouth of the oven,
and from the dish-cloth made a transition
back to the warming-pan. " Courting,"
thought Josh, u is awful hard work." The
perspiration stood on his forehead, and his
eel-skin queue pulled so tight that he began
to fear the top of his head was coming off ;
but not a word could he say. And just at
that moment a green stick of wood upon the
fire began to sing in a dismal tone, " Que,
que, que, que, que." Nothing frets the nerves
more when a body is a little fidgetty, than
the singing and sputtering of a stick of wood.
JOSH
Josh felt worse than ever, but the stick kept
on, que, que, que, quiddle, de dee, que, que,
quiddledy quiddledy que, que, que, — Josh
caught up the tongs and gave the fire a tre-
mendous poke. This exertion somewhat re-
lieved him.
" Hannah ! " said he, hitching his chair a
yard nearer.
"Well, Josh."
Now, thought Josh, I will tell her I love
her. — " Hannah," said he again, " I "
He stared so wildly and made such a horrible
grimace that- Hannah bounced from her chair.
"Hannah, I say," repeated he — but here
again his courage failed him.
" What say, Josh ? "
" I I it 's a grand time for tur-
nips," said Josh. u Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! "
u Poh !" returned Hannah, cc let alone of
my apron-string, you Josh."
Josh sat in silence and despair for some
time longer, growing more and more nervous
every moment. Presently the stick of wood
burst out squeaking again in the most doleful
style imaginable, Quiddledy, quiddledy quee—
ee—ee—iddledy, que, que quiddledy quiddledy que
que que-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee — Josh could not bear
it any longer, for he verily believed his skull-
132 josh beanpole's courtship.
bone was splitting. u I swaggers ! " he ex-
claimed, " this is too bad ! "
"What's the matter. Josh ?" asked Han-
nah in considerable alarm.
u Suthin' ails me," said Josh.
" Dear me ! " exclaimed Hannah, sha' n't
I get you a mug of cider ? "
" Do," replied Josh, " for I don't feel as I
used to did."
Hannah ran down cellar and returned with
a quart mug of cider. Josh put it to his
lips and took a heavy pull. It was what the
farmers call hard cider, and Josh verily feared
his eyes would start out of his head while he
was drinking it, but after several desperate
gulps he succeeded in draining the mug.
Then pulling a blue and white check hand-
kerchief from his pocket, he rubbed his face
very hard, and looked straight into the fire.
But in a few minutes he found his spirits
wonderfully rising ; he lifted up his eyes,
hitched his chair nearer, sent Hannah a sly
look, and actually gave a loud giggle. Han-
nah giggled in reply, for giggling, like gaping,
is contagious. In two minutes more, his
courage rose higher ; he threw one of his
long legs across the other, gave a grin, slap-
ped his hand upon his knee, and exclaimed
as bold as a lion,
133
u Hannah, — if a young feller was for to
go to offer for to kiss you, what 'd ye think
ye should do ?" Having uttered these words,
he stopped short, his mouth wide open, in
gaping astonishment at his own temerity.
If Hannah did not blush, it was probably
owing to her being at that moment engaged
in blowing the fire at a desperate rate with an
enormous pair of broken-winded bellows
which occupation had set her all in a blowze.
She understood the hint, and replied,
" Guess ye 'd better not try, Josh."
Whether this was intended as a warning,
or an invitation, never could be satisfactorily
known. Josh did not stop to inquire, but
he thought it too good a chance to be lost :
u I '11 kiss her ! by Golly ! " he exclaimed to
himself. He made a bounce from his chair
and seized the nozzle of the bellows, which
Hannah was sticking at that moment under
a huge iron pot over the fire. Now, in this
pot were apples a stewing, and so it happened
that Hannah, in the confusion occasioned by
the visit of Josh, had made a mistake and put
in sour apples instead of sweet ones : sour
apples when cooking, every body knows, are
apt to explode like bomb shells. Hannah had
been puffing at the bellows with might and
12
134 josh beanpole's courtship.
main, and raised the heat to a mischievous
degree; — there was no safety-valve in the
pot-lid, and just as Josh was upon the point
of snatching a kiss, whop ! the whole contents
of the pot went off in their faces !
At the same moment the door flew open,
and the whole Downer family came in from
meeting. Such a sight as they beheld !
There stood Josh, beplastered with apple-
sauce from head to foot, and frightened worse
than if he had seen a green monkey. Han-
nah made her escape, and left Josh to explain
the catastrophe. He rolled up his eyes in
utter dismay. " What is the matter ! " ex-
claimed Peggy Downer. "Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! "
replied Josh, and that was all he could say.
" Goodness' sake ! Josh Beanpole ! is that
you ? " asked mother Downer, for Josh was
so beplastered, beluted and transubstantiated
by the apple-sauce that she did not at first dis-
cover who it was. — "I d'n know — no n't I,"
said Josh. — "What a spot o' work!" ex-
claimed Peggy. Josh looked down at his
pantaloons — " Oh ! forever ! " he exclaimed,
"this beats the gineral trainin' ! "
How matters were explained, and how
Josh got safe home, I cannot stop to explain.
As to the final result of the courtship, the
Explosion^ <>/ the- pot t?f app/&i
josh beanpole's courtship. 135
reader may as well be informed that Josh had
too much genuine Yankee resolution to be
beaten away from his prize by a broadside of
baked apples. In fact, it was but a few months
afterwards, that Deacon Powderpost, the town
clerk, was digging all alone in the middle of his
ten-acre potato field, and spied Josh Beanpole
looming up over the top of the hill. Josh
looked ali around the horizon, and finding no
other living soul to be seen, came scambling
over the potato bills, and got right behind the
Deacon, where in about a quarter of an hour he
mustered courage sufficient to ask him to step
aside, as he had a communication for his private
ear. To make a long story short, Josh and
Hannah were published the next Sunday.
METAPHYSICS.
" Do you think Aristotle is right, when he says that relatives
are related ? » Vicar of Wakefield.
The old hermit of Prague, that never saw
pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of
King Gorboduc, " that that is, is." Most
people who possess the old hermit's happy
ignorance, are of the same opinion ; but,
strange to say, an acquaintance with pen and
ink and things of that sort, is very apt to
reverse this opinion. No sooner do we be-
gin -to study metaphysics, than we find how
egregiously we have been mistaken, in sup-
posing that "Master Parson is really Master
Parson."
I, for my part, have a high opinion of me-
taphysical studies, and think the science a
very useful one, because it teaches people
what sheer nobodies they are. Tl^e only
objection" is, they are not disposed to lay
this truth sufficiently to heart, but continue
to give themselves airs, just as if some-folks
were really some-folks. Old Doctor Sober-
METAPHYSICS. 137
sides, the minister of Pumpkinville, where I
lived in my youth, was one of the metaphy-
sical divines of the old school, and could cavil
upon the ninth part of a hair about entities
and quiddities, nominalism and realism, free
will and necessity, with which sort of learning
he used to stuff his sermons and astound
his learned hearers, the bumpkins. They
never doubted that it was all true, but were
apt to say with the old woman in Moliere :
II parle si bien que je n'entend goutte.
I remember a conversation that happened
at my grandfather's, in which the Doctor had
some difficulty in making his metaphysics all
"as clear as preaching." There was my
grandfather, videlicet my grandfather ; Uncle
Tim who was the greatest hand at raising
onions in our part of the country, but ct not
knowing metaphysics, had no notion of the
true reason of his not being sad ; " my Aunt
Judy Keturah Titterwell, who could knit
stockings like all possest, but could not syllo-
gize ; Malachi Muggs, f our hired man, that
drove the oxen, and Isaac Thrasher, the dis-
trict schoolmaster, who had dropped in to
warm his fingers and get a drink of, cider.
Something was under discussion, i and my
grandfather could make nothing of it ; but the
Doctor said it was " metaphysically true."
12 * ' \ '.
138 METAPHYSICS.
" Pray, Doctor," said Uncle Tim, " tell me
something about metaphysics ; I have often
heard of that science, but never for my life
could find out what it was."
" Metaphysics," said the Doctor, "is the
science of abstractions."
" I 'm no wiser for that explanation," said
Uncle Tim.
" It treats," said the Doctor, " of matters
most profound and sublime, a little difficult
perhaps for a common intellect or an un-
schooled capacity to fathom, but not the less
important, on that account, to all living be-
ings."
" What does it teach ? " asked the school-
master.
u It is not applied so much to the operation
of teaching," answered the Doctor, " as to
that of inquiring ; and the chief inquiry is
whether things are, or whether they are not.'
u I don't understand the question," said
Uncle Tim, taking the pipe out of his mouth.
" For example, whether this earth on which
we tread," said the Doctor, giving a heavy
stamp on the floor, and setting his foot slap
on the cat's tail, u whether this earth does
really exist, or whether it does not exist."
u That is a point of considerable conse-
quence to settle," said my grandfather.
)
METAPHYSICS. 139
4C Especially," added the schoolmaster, " to
the holders of real estate."
" Now the earth," continued the Doctor,
<c may exist " —
" Who the dogs ever doubted that ?" asked
Uncle Tim.
" A great many men," said the Doctor,
" and some very learned ones."
Uncle Tim stared a moment, and then
began to fill up his pipe, whistling the tune of
High Betty Martin, while the Doctor went on.
— " The earth, I say, may exist, although
Bishop Berkeley has proved beyond all possible
gainsaying or denial, that it does not exist.
The case is clear ; the only difficulty is, to
know whether we shall believe it or not."
" And how," asked Uncle Tim, " is all the
to be found out ? "
" By digging down to the first principles,"
answered the Doctor.
" Ay," interrupted Malachi, "there is
nothing equal to the spade and pickaxe."
" That is true," said my grandfather, going
on in Malachi's way, u 't is by digging for the
foundation that we shall find out whether the
world exists or not ; for, if we dig to the bot-
tom of the earth and find a foundation — why
then we are sure of it. But if we find no
140 METAPHYSICS.
foundation, it is clear that the world stands
upon nothing, or, in other words, that it does
not stand at all ; therefore, it stands to
reason " —
u I beg your pardon," interrupted the Doc-
tor, u but you totally mistake me ; I use the
word digging metaphorically, meaning the
profoundest cogitation and research into the
nature of things. That is the way in which
we may ascertain whether things are or
whether they are not."
" But if a man can't believe his eyes," said
Uncle Tim, " what signifies talking about
it ? "
u Our eyes," said the Doctor, tc are nothing
at all but the inlets of sensation, and when
we see a thing, all we are aware of is, that
we have a sensation of it ; we are not sure
that the thing exists. We are sure of nothing
that we see with our eyes."
u Not without spectacles," said aunt Judy.
" Plato, for instance, maintains that the
sensation of any object is produced by a per-
petual succession of copies, images or coun-
terfeits streaming off from the object to the
organs of sensation. Descartes, too, has
explained the matter upon the principle of
whirligigs."
METAPHYSICS. 141
w But does the world exist ?" asked the
schoolmaster.
" A good deal may be said on both sides,"
replied the Doctor, " though the ablest heads
are for non-existence."
" In common cases," said Uncle Tim,
" those who utter nonsense are considered
blockheads."
" But in metaphysics," said the Doctor,
" the case is different."
"Now all this is hocus pocus to me," said
Aunt Judy, suspending her knitting work, and
scratching her forehead with one of the needles.
" I don't understand a bit more of the business
than I did at first."
"I '11 be bound there is many a learned
professor," said Uncle Tim, u could say the
same after spinning a long yarn of metaphy-
sics."
The Doctor did not admire this gibe at his
favorite science. " That is as the case may
be," said he ; " this thing or that thing may be
dubious, but what then ? Doubt is the begin-
ning of wisdom."
"No doubt of that," said my grandfather,
beginning to poke the fire, " but when a man
has got through his doubting, what does he be-
gin to build upon in the metaphysical way ? "
142 METAPHYSICS.
" Why, he begins by taking something for
granted," said the Doctor.
" But is that a sure way of going to work ? "
" ; Tis the only thing he can do," replied
the Doctor, after a pause, and rubbing his
forehead as if h5 was not altogether satisfied
that his foundation was a solid one. My
grandfather might have posed him with another
question, but he poked the fire and let him go
on.
" Metaphysics, to speak exactly," —
" Ah," interrupted the schoolmaster, " bring
it down to vulgar fractions, and then we shall
understand it."
" Tis the consideration of immateriality, or
the mere spirit and essence of things."
" Come, come," said Aunt Judy, taking a
pinch of snuff, " now I see into it."
"Thus, man is considered, not in his cor-
poreality, but in his essence or capability of
being ; for a man metaphysically, or to meta-
physical purposes, hath two natures, that of
spirituality and that of corporeity, which may be
considered separate."
" What man ? " asked Uncle Tim.
" Why any man ; Malachi there, for exam-
ple, I may consider him as Malachi spiritual or
Malachi corporal."
METAPHYSICS. 143
c ; That is true," said Malachi, " for when I
was in the militia, they made me a sixteenth cor-
poral, and I carried grog to the drummer."
" That is another affair," said the Doctor, in
continuation, " we speak of man in his essence ;
we speak also of the essence of locality, the
essence of duration " —
"And essence of peppermint," said Aunt
Judy.
" Pooh !" said the Doctor, u tUe essence I
mean is quite a different concern."
•' Something too fine to be dribbled through
the worm of a still," said my grandfather.
u Then I am all in the dark again," rejoined
Aunt Judy.
" By the spirit and essence of things I mean
things in the abstract."
" And what becomes of a thing when it gets
into the abstract ?' tasked Uncle Tim.
"Why, it becomes an abstraction."
" There we are again," said Uncle Tim ;
" but what the deuce is an abstraction ?"
" It 's a thing that has no matter ; that is, it
cannot be felt, seen, heard, smelt or tasted ; it
has no substance or solidity ; it is neither large
nor small, hot nor cold, long nor short."
" Then what is the long and short of it ? "
asked the schoolmaster.
144 METAPHYSICS,
"Abstraction," replied the Doctor.
" Suppose, for instance," said Malachi, •* that
I had a pitchfork"
"Ay," said the Doctor, " consider a pitch-
fork in general ; that is, neither this one nor that
one, nor any particular one, but a pitchfork or
pitchforks divested of their materiality — these
are things in the abstract."
"They are things in the hay-mow," said
Malachi.
" Pray," said Uncle Tim, u have there been
many such things discovered ?"
" Discovered !" returned the Doctor, " why
all things, whether in heaven or upon the
earth, or in the waters under the earth,
whether small or great, visible or invisible,,
animate or inanimate ; — whatever the eye
can see, or the ear can hear, or the nose can
smell, or the fingers touch ; finally, whatever
exists or is imaginable in rerum natura, past,
present, or to come, — all may be abstrac-
tions."
" Indeed I " said Uncle Tim, " pray what do
you make of the abstraction of a red cow ? "
"• A red cow,'' said the Doctor, " considered
metaphysically, or as an abstraction, is an
animal possessing neither hide nor horns,
bones nor flesh, but is the mere type, eidolon,
METAPHYSICS. 145
and fantastical semblance of these parts of a
quadruped. It has a shape without any sub-
stance, and no color at all, for its redness is the
mere counterfeit or imagination of such. As it
lacks the positive, so is it also deficient in the
accidental properties of all the animals of its
tribe, for it has no locomotion, stability, or endu-
rance, neither goes to pasture, gives milk, chews
the cud, nor performs any other function of a
horned beast, but is a mere creature of the
brain, begotten by a freak of the fancy, and
nourished by a conceit of the imagination."
"A dog's foot!" exclaimed Aunt Judy.
" All the metaphysics under the sun wouldn't
make a pound of butter."
« That 's a fact ! " said Uncle Tim.
13
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
CANTO I.
It is an ancient pedler-man,
That peddleth pottes of tinne ;
And he stoppeth Deacon Edmund Stokes,
As the meeting did beginne.
" Now \\ herefore dost thou stoppe me here ?
Thou man of muckle sinne !
" The meeting-house is open wide,
And the minister is there.
So lette me goe, I must make haste,
Or I shall lose the prayer."
He holds him by the button faste,
" Do n't give me the slippe !" quoth he.
Whereat the Deacon hitte him a cuffe,
And said, " You rogue ! get out with youre stuffe-
Is this the time for a spree ?"
Quoth the pedler, " Deacon that is n't faire,
Don't aggravate your choler,
You talk so gravelie about a prayer,
But you 're thinking of a dollar."
And the pedlar bolde still kept faste holde,
And close to the fence did hie him,
And bothe were sitting on a raile,
While hee beganne to tell his tale,
And the Deacon's hearte for fear did quaile,
Lest somebodie should spie him.
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 147
" The coaste was clear'd, and off I steer'd,
Merrilie I did trotte
O'er Roxhury Necke and Dedham roade.
Lighte paire of heeles, I wotle.
The sunne rose oute of Boston Baye
Fulle halfe an houre too soone ;
For I stole awaye before 't was daye,
At the setting of the moone." —
And here the Deacon scratched his heade,
He heard the loud psalme-tune.
The parson in the pulpitte stands ;
Grave as an owle is hee ;
Nodding their heades iu silence sitte
The ghostlie companie. <
And some admire his reverend wigge,
And some his divinitie.
Olde Deacon Ned, he scratch'd his heade,
With many a gape and stare,
While thus went on with his long yarne,
That pedler of tinne-ware.
" At length did crosse an old black horse,
Oute of the fielde be cane.
His taile was cropp'd, and his nose was blue,
Just like the one I swopp'd with you,
And Dobbin was his name.
He trotted straight up to my side.
And rounde and rounde I eyed him ;
I felt a bitte of an antic fitte,
And soe T jump'd astride him."
" Dogges take thee ! ancient pedler-man !
My wittes are at a losse.
Why squint'st thou soe ?" Why Deacon, yon knowe
I STOLE THE OLDE BLACK HOBSE !
148 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
CANTO II.
And I grewe daft that jollie time,
And presentlie I grewe dafter.
A jollie time ! a jollie time !
I 'd nearlie splitte with laughter,
When looking backwards, I behelde
A something coming after.
At firste it seem'd a little dogge,
And then it seem'd a cowe,
And it grewe and grewe, till it look'd just like
A constable, I swowe !
Ah mee ! I growl'd within my gummes
As that magic shape drewe neare,
" Is that old Catchpole now that comes,
To tvvitche me by the eare ?
Is it hee that bawles with leathern lungs,
Like a Milke-streete auctioneere ?"
And hee cried, " Ho ! ho ! wherever you goe,
Close at your heeles I '11 followe !"
Gramercy ! then I off did scoure
Swearing in lesse than halfe an houre
To distance him alle hollowe.
Like one that scrambles downe the streete,
His heeles in quicktime clapping,
And faster and faster pulles aheade,
The winde his coate-taile flapping ;
Because he heares a greate madde dogge
Behinde him snarling and snapping.
Flie Dobbin, flie ! more highe ! more highe !
And over the mountains fetche me !
For not so slowe doth the constable goe,
But yette he 's a chance to catche me.
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 149
The western skie was all aflame,
The daye was well nighe clone.
The constable almoste gave it uppe,
And thought himselfe outrunne,
When Dobbin stumbled suddenlie,
And I felle with a terrible stunne !
All in a swour.de I lave on the grounde,
Yet Dobbin aheade did goe,
And gallopping by did the constable flie
Like the whizz of my crossbowe !
How long in that same swounde I lave,
I really can't declare,
For I 'm not us'd to fainting fittes,
But I heard as soone as I came to my wittes,
Two voices in the aire.
" Egad ! ; ' quoth one, " 't will be rare fanne,
Suche a rogue to come acrosse ?
Into what slye hole can the rascall have stole,
That stole the olde blacke horse ?"
The other hadde a squeaking voice,
Yet he swore woundilie too,
Quoth hee, :- The knave hath mischiefe done,
And mischiefe more wille doe."
CANTO III.
Deacon.
But telle me, telle me, beginne againe,
For my braines in wonder are stewing
Sticke to the truthe, and telle me plaine,
What was the constable doing?
13*
150 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
Pedler.
Stille as a mouse I lurking lave,
But juste ;^s I thought him past,
His great white eye all roguishlie
Righte in my face he caste.
And he cried, " Oho ! my ladde, just soe
Shoulde a knave get serv'd for his sinnes !
See ! neighbor, see ! how prettilie
He's batter'd his pate and shinnes ! "
A scolding wife and a squalling Lralte
Are things to make men flie ;
A rattlesnake or a stoute wilde-catte
I 'd rather not come nighe.
But a scarecrow worse than this or that,
Is the squinte of a catchpole's eye !
It rais'd my haire, it singed my cheeke,
Like a dogge-daye sunne in spring,
And I reallie felt some awkward feares
Of dangling in a string.
And quicke as a maggot I started uppe,
And over the fence I flew,
Swiftlie, swiftlie, hard at my heeles
Did both of those meune pursue.
I dodg'd them here, I dodg T d them there,
I dodg'd them all arounde,
And snarl ! d and scowl'dand grumbled and growl'd
Like a madde bulle in a pounde.
I slipp'd like a snake, through brier and brake,
And ledde them a galloping heate ;
And over the wheate, and over the rye,
And rounde the stumpes, but 't was all my eye,
I knew I shoulde soone be beate.
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 151
Alone, alone ! all, all alone
I ranne with armes akimbo,
But two to om<? is a terrible oddes,
And when I had ledde them a hundred roddes
I founde myselfe in limbo !
CANTO IV.
I felte him, horrid constable !
I felte his skinny hande ;
Slap on my shoulder-blade it felle,
And broughte me to a stande.
I felte him with his greate white eye,
And his horny clinchers browne,
The strapping loone was sixe feete highe,
Or I coukie have knock'd him downe.
He had a monstrous copper nose,
All fiery at the tippe ;
Upon my word it seem'd as bigge
As the figure-heade of a shippe.
*T was hook'd, as ofte greate noses are,
Like the new moone, but redder farre,
And he puff'd a huge long-nine cigarre
Within his nether lippe.
The constable soe beautiful
Cried " Stande a little stiller ! "
And a thousand thousand funnie jokes,—
It 's my opinion. Deacon Stokes,
They were stole from Joseph Miller.
I look'd upon his greate redde nose,
And grinn'd like a Cheshire catte.
And we kept joking, cutte and thruste,
But I rather thinke he gotte the worste,
For I g^ve him titte for tatte.
152 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
Quoth he, " Your fate would cause to yearne
My bowels — if I hadde 'em,
For I shall grippe you faste untille
You reache that house near Bunker's Hille,
Where you shall pound MaeAddam.
Quoth I, in spite of certaine feares,
" Old Catchpole, that 's a whopper !
I 'm readie, by Jove ! to bette my eares
Againste a Bungtovvne copper."
The hills were brighte in the sweete moone-lighte ;
How I long'd to scamper o'er them !
But my two friendes at fingers' ends,
Did marche me close before them,
To the taverne-house where Daniel Dobbs
Sells breade and cheese and does odde jobbs,
As a justice of the Quorum.
Is that his signe-poste all out of jointe,
That creaking swings in the aire ?
Is this his doore all gnaw'd by the rattes ?
Are these his windowes fulle of olde hattes ?
Is that his ladye fair ?
Her cheekes were redde, her chinne was blue,
Her lockes were yellowe as gold,
Her neck was thicke and her nose askewe ;
I 'd have kiss'd the wenche, but that would n't do,
Because she was saucie and bolde.
The taverne-man alongside came,
Quoth he, " Take my advice,
And the job shall be done for the sonne of a gunne,
Ere you wette your whistle twice."
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 153
I shudder'd and look'd sideways uppe.
Says I " Give me a goode stffFe cuppe
Of stingoe now to sippe,
Smalle beere is thin, and 't is chilly to-nighte,
Colde water makes rny face looke white,
And gives me a paine in the hippe "
Then just as the doore was standing ajarre,
Ipeep'd and saw the man at the barre
Mixing a mugge of flippe.
Quoth the taverne-man, " This rogue is nowa
Five dollars on my score.
I chalk'd it upp three months agoe
Behinde the kitchen doore."
" 'T is a monstrous lie, you knave," said I,
" I never was here before."
And the bolte of that doore, it sounded sore
Like a 'tarnal dungeon bitter.
Oh howe I wish'd to be walking abroade !
But the constable he kept watche and warde,
And I satte in a terrible twitter.
That taverne-man went uppe the staires,
And to his cocke-lofte hied,
Slylie as he went oute the doore,
The catchpole wink'd and cry'd,
" This pedler rogue shall pave the bille
And a swigge of punche beside."
Then on the benche his giant limmes
Sixe feete and more he spreade.
But where his heade's huge shadowe layej
That fierie nose did burne alwaye,
A stille and awful redde.
154 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
I squinted slie with my left eye
And twigg'd his queere attire.
'T was bottle greene and brimstone blue,
A shivering horror shotte me throughe,
As I satte by the fire.
And I thought to sing some merrie glee
To sette my frighted noddle free
From thoughts of going to jaile,
So I tried " Opossum uppe a gumme tree,
And pulle him down by the taile."
A charming songe, but it all wente wronge
And sette me to pshawing and pishing.
And next I tried " The Tongs and the Hones,"
But the verieOlde Harrie was in the tones,
For you never hearde such dismal moanes
In all your going a fishing.
O ! seepe ! it is a charming thinge !
For T sunk dreaming downe.
And a magick sounde was in my eares,
'T was not the musick of the spheres,
But the noise of Boston towne.
Sometimes a peale of merrie notes
The Olde Southe bell did ring.
Sometimes I hearde ihe truckmen sweare,
And Broade-Streete Paddies fille the aire
With their sweete jargoning.
It ceas'd, yet stille my eares kept on
A noise that ! s most appalling —
A noise as of tom-cattes in fighte,
With mickle furie squalling,
Keeping folkes wide awake at nighte
With their sweete caterwauling.
"Twos ?;<>,'/////>/ 7/n>r?.l»/ these, ol&jhoes,
/////// tki ■ t > v/. ?& 'M ' a snot in t \ "
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 155
And then burste oule a thundering shoute ;
I thought the earthe was quaking.
Suche a clatter sounds in Funnell-Halle
When ratte-trappe Adams tries to bawle.
And the cits for funne imrnenselie squalle,
Their sides with laughter shaking.
And then againe, it seem'd a straine
Of sweete " hey diddle diddle,
Prut tirra-lirra creako crack,"
A jiggling tune which Cuffie blacke
Doth scrape upon a fiddle.
Ten thousand steame-boates then let flie,
And I heard hotte water pouring,
And then long time in grand sublime
'T was all Mount Etna roaring.
In frighte I started from my snooze,
'T was nothing more, by these olde shooes-,
Than the constable a snoring !
The clocke struck one ; — now cutte and runne !
Goode lucke to you for a lodger !
I made three steppes and a halfe to goe ;
The constable woke and bawl'd " Hollo !"
But I cried, "Avast ! olde codger!"
Then I crook'd my elbowe as bee rose,
And aim'd my fiste at his bottle nose,
And hitte him a lustie podger !
That bottle nose burste forthe a sneeze,
And an hundred pimples sheene,
To and fro flashed sparkles oute,
And to and fro that Bardolphe snoute
Made the echoes roare, I weene.
156 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER.
Then like a pawing horse lette goe,
I made a sudden bounde,
And I went righte smashe, through the windowe sashe
But instead of lighting on grounde,
Plumpe down I felle in a dismal welle,
5 T was ten to one I had drown'd.
The roofe broke through, and the bucket too,
'T was darke as darke could bee,
And soe, heeles firste, with a crashe I burste
Into that silent sea.
In the water deepe I stuck awhile,
Faste anchor'd, I 've a notion.
And my heade peep'd oute like Noddle's Isle
Above the Atlanticke Ocean.
Ah mee ! I blubber'd many a sobbe,
And uppe and downe my chinne didde bobbe
With a short, uneasie motion.
Water, water, everywhere,
Uppe to my eares did come ;
Water, water, everywhere
But not a droppe of rumme !
The tavern-manne came to the welie
And drewe me uppe to the brimme,
His wife and hee pull'd at the rope,
But shee said nought to himm
Till shee spied me drench'd so piteouslie,
Then shee cried, O ludd ! goode lacke ! I see
The devill knowes howe to swimm !
Then slyli« he touch'd the side of his nose
With one side of his thumbe,
And thrice hee wink'd in a knowing waye,
And then saide gravelie, " Come !"
You ! 11 paye mee twentie dollars downe,
And forever I '11 be mumme.
RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 15'
Then over the hilles and farre awaye,
I made noe stinte of stalking. —
Then shaking his heade did the Deacon saye,
" You saved your hacon by running awaye,
The Judge and Constable balking."
Ididde not runne, quoth the Pedler then,
But I guesse I show'd them a specimen
Of devilish talle walking.
Quoth the Deacon, It was an awful! e sighte
Of cashe to lose, I trowe. —
The Pedler began to laughe outrighte :
Saide hee, I guesse 't was an awfulle bite,
They were counterfeite hilles you knowe ! —
Oho ! quoth the Deacon, you served him righte,
I 'd have cheated the dogge just soe !
14
VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY THROUGH THE
STREETS OF BOSTON.
Captain Hezekiah Haultight, formerly mas-
ter of the schooner Little Dick, trading be-
tween Boston and the West Indies, was not
long since honored with an eminent and re-
sponsible appointment by the eminent and
honorable City Council of Boston, being
nominated by that august body to the office
of Superintendent of the Snag-Marine and
Projective Surveyor of Straits and Highways
in the City. The Captain, on being apprized
of his election, recollected that he was rather
imperfectly acquainted with the topography
of the city, and not being furnished with
charts that appeared sufficiently exact, he
determined to undertake a voyage of dis-
covery. He communicated his design to Mr
Figg, a respectable grocer in Hanover Street,
newly chosen to the Common Council, and
like the Captain, deficient in information as
to matters beyond the limits of his own ward.
Figg was once Skipper of a chebacco boat,
and readily approved Haultight's plan for a
VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, ETC. 159
cruise. They agreed to sail in company, and
for further safety and the promotion of sci-
ence, took into their company Mr Benjamin
Blowze. ex-captain of a wood thumper, and
at present Deputy Dog-driver for Ward No.
2. They chartered a Roxbury omnibus, and
enlisted a crew from among the city officers,
consisting of the following dignitaries : —
Regulator of Barber's Poles.
Gauger of Whiskey Punch.
Receiving Teller of Rotten Apples, Faneuil
Hall Market.
Clerk of the Snoring Committee of the
Board of Aldermen.
Overseer of Blind Puppies.
Deputy Inspector of Dead Cats.
Branch Pilot of Mud Puddles.
JOURNAL.
At 10, A. M., got under weigh and stood up
Hanover Street with a gentle breeze. Saw
nothing remarkable till we came to Court
Street, most of the company being pretty well
acquainted with the coast. At the head of
the street found the current setting to the
S. E. Got the starboard tack aboard, and
hauled our wind. Stood up Howard Street :
discovered nothing : bore away up Bulfinch
160 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY.
Street over Pemberton's Hill into Beacon
Street. Wind freshened — judged ourselves
near the Common. At half past ten the State
House appeared in sight on the weather bow.
Passed a school of odd fishes, which we sup-
posed to be of the sort called representatives.
In order to ascertain this, threw out a cake of
gingerbread, which was greedily snapped up
by them : this settled the fact. Steered along
Beacon Street, but seeing no land ahead, hove
about and bore away down Park Street. A
strong smell of brimstone came from the shore,
probably a volcano in the interior. Tacked
and stood down the Mall, and then ran down
Winter Street before the wind. Took in sail
and steered down Washington Street with the
current, which set strongly to the N. E. Saw
a great many birds of paradise : tried to catch
one or two, found them very shy. These
birds are of very bright plumage, especially
about the head. They are very hard to catch,
being always fluttering about and never light-
ing. Saw also several baboons, which are
said to be common along this part of the
coast. These creatures have commonly great
tufts of hair growing to the sides of their
faces, and are much given to chattering. It
is said they have been taught to speak, but
this is doubtful.
THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 161
At 11, A. M., made the Old South directly
ahead. Came on cloudy, shortened sail.
Saw two boobies and a noddy. Made land
at the Post Office, tacked and stood up Court
Street. Found the coast all along infested
with an immense number of sharks. Stood
off and on for a pilot to carry us clear of them,
but they swarmed about us in such numbers
that we bore away, after catching one of them
on a hook baited with a five dollar bill.
Made sail and ran down the coast by the City
Hall ; heard a great puffing ; saw a shoal of
porpoises ; — seemed to be of the sort called
aldermen. At noon, took an observation and
found all hands very thirsty. Bore up and put
into Kenfield's Bay for supplies. Came to an-
chor in three fathoms of strong water.
At 1, P. M., piped all hands, hove up anchor
and put to sea ; current strong, rather cloudy,
and ship very much by the head. Stood off
and on in State Street ; — full change ; — great
flocks of gulls, boobies, noddies and lame
ducks hovering about us ; many sharks under
water watching for prey. Bore away and ran
down State Street between the banks ; — very
shoal water ; — no safe navigation in these
parts. Hauled our wind and ran through
Merchant's Row ; — breakers all round us.
14*
162 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY
Kept a sharp look-out and hove the lead.
Passed Faneuil Hall — heard a whale spout-
ing. Bore away down North Market Street ;
tacked and stood through Commercial Street,
India Street, and Broad Street. Vast numbers
of mud-larks singing about here. Came on
squally, — took in sail ; put the helm hard up
and wore ship round Fort Hill down Purchase
Street : felt a shock of an earthquake under
water. Saw mountains looming up high in the
distance, which we took at first sight to be
Eastern lands, but it turned out to be Cape Fly-
away. Coast all along here strewed with
wrecks ; picked up the mainmast of a Boston
speculator that had foundered in ninety thousand
fathoms of land in sight of the city of Ban-
gor.
Two, P. M. Hauled upon the lee braces
and bore up through Federal Street, Milk
Street, and Kilby Street ; saw a good many
jackasses, and knocked down three auction-
eers ; — found the wind rising. Bore away
and stood up State Street : sharks all gone,
and only a few lame ducks left. Made sail
and ran up Washington Street. Birds of
Paradise, wagtails, baboons, puppies and all
such animals in abundance. Passing the Old
South, saw a black crow and several owls.
THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 163
Off Marlborough House found the water very
cold, — certain sign of shallows. Kept the
helm steady, hove the lead and looked out
sharp : reefed the topsails, tacked and stood
up Winter Street with a strong breeze right
in our teeth. Filled away through Tremont
Street : shoals of odd fish coming down from
the State House, most of them very scaly fry.
Took in sail ; bent a cable ; ran down Hanover
Street and came to anchor at half past 2, P. M.
General Remarks. The natives of all the
coasts we have visited, are very much given
to trading, especially in notions. They seem
disposed to sell every thing. Wives are al-
most always bought with money. Their
appetites are voracious, and they are extrava-
gantly fond of a certain food called hhumm-
bugg, which they swallow in crude lumps, and
suffer strange fits of madness while under its
effects. Voyagers who go among them should
by all means furnish themselves with a large
supply of this commodity, for nothing will gain
a surer welcome. They ride a great deal on
hobbies, and when fairly mounted, will cut the
strangest capers imaginable. It is not always
possible to understand their language, for many
of the natives are addicted to a jargon called
kaant, which is the hardest dialect in the world
164 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, ETC.
to interpret. A good many things are manufac-
tured by them, particularly an article called
phudge. Various attempts have been made to
civilize these people, but as long as voyagers
continue to supply them with hhummbugg. there
seems little hope of them. There is a region in
this country, called Ward No. 5, which we did
not visit, as we were informed we should run
great hazard of not getting away again. A tra-
ding vessel, called the Poor Gentleman, visited
that quarter last year, and cast anchor on a very-
rocky spot called the Stone Jug, which held so
fast, she has not been able to start her anchor to
this day.
THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.
Titania. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Bottom. Truly, a peck of provender. I ould munch your
good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of
hay.
The ancient philosopher, when he had a
mind to eat, opened his mouth ; the moderns,
when they have a mind either to eat or drink,
are afraid to do any such thing as opening their
mouths. This is a scientific age, and we have
so wonderfully improved on the practice of the
ancients, that we must study books and hear lec-
tures, before we can be sure that it is safe to eat
a potato.
I, for my part, wonder how our grandfa-
thers and great-grandfathers, those tough old
fellows, kept soul and body together. They
ate their victuals and went about their busi-
ness. It is a positive fact, they had no diete-
tics — they had no system ; — Heavens and
earth ! is it possible ? Yes, they had no such
thing as a system, that necromantic machine
which carries every thing onward nowa-
166 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.
days. They ate whatever they wanted, and
as much as they wanted, never troubled
themselves about physiology ; and did not
know whether they had one stomach or half
a dozen. They had no such scientific lights
to illuminate the dark subjects of chewing
and swallowing, as their more knowing de-
scendants possess : they never thought of
opening their mouths by rule, or wagging
their jaws by the pendulum of a clock, or
weighing their bread by half ounces, or phi-
losophizing upon fried pancakes and roasted
pigs' tails, or smelling alcohol in cider, or snuff-
ing poison in a cup of coffee, or cogitating upon
the gastric juice, digestion, chylification : and
doctoring and cosseting and coddling their sto-
machs in the ten thousand delightful scientific
ways that modern system-mongers have in-
vented.
Our ancestors were certainly unfortunate,
and it is impossible not to pity their ignorance.
They lived to ninety, and never suspected
they were poisoning themselves all their life-
time. Never shall I forget the nervous hor-
ror of my old grandmother when she came
home from one of the lectures of Dr Sawdust,
who had been proving that coffee was poison.
The old lady had drank four cups a day ever
THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 167
since she was ten years old. She immedi-
ately clapped on her spectacles, sat down with
a piece of chalk and made a calculation of the
quantity. She could hardly believe her eyes
when she discovered that she had swallowed
seven thousand three hundred and eighty-
eight gallons of poison! — "Better late than
never," she exclaimed, — U I won't be poi-
soned any longer, not I ! " And so, at the
age of ninety, she reforms her diet, fully per-
suaded that to go on drinking coffee would
kill her sooner or later. Another old lady, on
hearing that tea was intoxicating, had nearly
gone into fits, and is in great affliction at the
thought that she has been fuddled every day
for sixty years without knowing any thing
about it.
With the great abundance of wisdom upon
these matters that we are now blessed with,
prospects are surely very encouraging. If
we believe the vegetable diet wiseacres, who
of course, know all about it, human life is to
be wonderfully increased in duration : they
talk of Methusaleh and his great uncles as
familiarly as maidens of fifteen do of puppy-
dogs. The danger seems to be that peo-
ple will live too long. True it is that none
of this cabbage-fed tribe have yet given any
168 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.
strong signs of longevity ; they all die off most
unaccountably just as they are on the point
of beginning to live a thousand years. How-
ever, this must be a mere freak of nature,
who often takes a malicious pleasure in con-
founding the wisest of our calculations.
The Sawdust Journal, a newspaper which
has been for some time established in this
city, must, we think, convince any man who
will take the trouble to read it, that eating is
a very dangerous business. It is astounding
to perceive what multitudes have died of roast
beef, mutton broth, and such like slow poi-
sons. A considerate man wonders to find
himself alive, and is fu\\y convinced that he
ought to have been dead long ago. But to
show that people are at last fairly awake on
this subject, and are determined not to sit still
and be poisoned any longer, we make the
following extract from the editor's correspon-
dence.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE SAWDUST JOURNAL.
GoOSEBOROUGH, DECEMBER 25, 1837.
Friend JVithershins : — I wrote to you
some time since, for the Library of Star-
vation, and the Sawdust Journal ; I hope
THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 169
you will send those excellent publications
as soon as possible, with any other works
you may have on the subject of short com-
mons. Public attention is now strongly turn-
ed towards these subjects, and we really hun-
ger and thirst after every thing in the shape
of bare bones. Doctor Sawdust has been lec-
turing in this place, and produced quite an
excitement : his proofs of the pernicious con-
sequences of eating food were in the highest
degree convincing ; people discovered them-
selves to be sick who never dreamt of the
thing before : indeed, it is very clear that but
for Dr Sawdust, we should never know half
our misfortunes. Flesh meat is now held in
utter abomination among us. People are
turning their pigs out of doors at a great rate ;
all the cows are cashiered, and the poultry
have been obliged to cut and run. As for a
beef steak, I need not say, such a thing is not
to be had for love or money : sausages are
entirely out of demand, except such as are
stuffed with red baize and turnips ; and I
verily believe the ghost of a sheep's head
would frighten the whole community. Flesh,
in fact, is quite out of the question, and no-
thing is fish that comes to net here ; a man
could not get even a salt eel for his supper.
15
170 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.
All the dogs have run mad, and every cat in
the town has departed this life.
I hope, friend Withershins, we shall have
the pleasure of beholding your hatchet face
among us before long. You would be de-
lighted to see the sharpness of our noses, the
prominence of our cheek-bones, and the beau-
tiful lantern-like transparency of our jaws.
The good work is going on, although a great
many among us are going off; this, however,
cannot be owing to their change of diet, but
to the roast turkeys they ate last winter.
There is a class of young ladies at Mrs Nip-
po's boarding-house, who are living (those, I
mean, who still survive) in exact adherence
to the principles of Dr Sawdust, and find their
complexions highly improved by it. They
have excellent soup, made of pebble-stones
boiled in clear spring water : sometimes they
strain it through a colander of turnip-tops ;
but this the Doctor calls high living. The
sawdust dough-nuts never give them the
heart-burn ; and if you shake a bunch of rad-
ishes at them once a week, ft is all they want.
You never saw a more beautiful and interest-
ing sight than these young ladies ; they re-
semble fair and delicate cabbage-plants grow-
ing under the shady side of a barn. Their
THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 171
strength is so much improved by their diet,
that they have no occasion for exercise, and
never feel the least desire to walk about. In-
deed, this would be somewhat hazardous, for
one of them being abroad on a windy day
last week, was accidentally blown against the
side of a newly painted house, where she
stuck till somebody came to her relief. Since
this catastrophe, they have all kept within
doors, which, in fact, is much the best way for
true Sawdustarians.
Since writing the above, I have received
accounts from the neighboring town of Noo-
dleton, where Dr Sawdust has also been
lecturing. The good work is going on there.
The people have given up eating entirely.
Most of them do nothing but gape, though
even this is censured as a superfluous luxury,
as well as the practice of sucking fog through
rye straws. Tee-total Fast Day Forever As-
sociations are rapidly forming. Several peo-
ple have sewed up their mouths, and assure
me the sensation is delightful ; others hold
back, and think that knocking their teeth out
is going far enough. However, the general
cry is u go ahead," and I think these last
must knock under, in spite of their teeth.
Brother Sappy lectured on water-porridge
172 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.
last evening, and delighted a most enthusias-
tic audience. He gave a flaming description
of carrots, and the mention of onions brought
tears into every eye. He means next week
to take up the question on the moral qualities
of baked beans. We are all as thriving as
corn-stalks ; there is not a face in the town
that is not pea-green.
Yours most emaciatingly,
Simon Scarecrow,
DECLINE AND FALL OF THE CITY OF
DOGTOWN.
Dogtown is a beautiful place in the interior
of this State. There is plenty of land around
it, so that nothing can hinder it from growing
in every direction, and thus becoming a great
city. In fact, Dogtown has already a one-
story church, part of a schoolhouse, and an
elegant pound. Nobody can see Dogtown
without being reminded of that celebrated
town in France, named Grandville, of which
we have the following description :
Grand ville, grand vilain,
Une eglise et un moulin
Voila Grandville tout a plein.
Which we may translate thus :
Grandville, great Grandville
Has a meetinghouse and mill,
Nothing else in all Grandville.
Dogtown is finely and advantageously situ-
ated. It stands on Eel River, a stream of
water which runs into another stream, and
that into a third, which runs into Connecticut
River, which running into Long Island Sound,
15 *
174 DECLINE AND FALL OF
finally reaches the Atlantic : who does not
see, therefore, that Dogtown may become a
great seaport ? The territory in the neigh-
borhood of Dogtown is remarkable for its fer-
tility, bating that part of it which is covered
with rocks, the salt meadow, the pine woods,
the clay-ponds and the swamps. It is past a
doubt, therefore, that the territory, if well
cleared, drained, peopled and cultivated,
would become a perfect garden, abounding
with the richest productions of nature, and
affording a mine of wealth to the country.
As to the facilities of communication with the
great Atlantic cities and commercial marts,
they are admirable. Dogtown has Boston on
one side and New York on the other. Mont-
real and Quebec are in the north, while in the
east is the rich and thriving State of Maine,
with Bangor and Owl's Head to boot. Rail
roads can be made to connect Dogtown with
all these places, and they will certainly form
such a connection, when they are built. That
the place will be a great focus of trade when
this is done, nobody I think will deny. The
neighborhood of Dogtown has all the advan-
tages that can be desired in a young country.
There will be as many large towns within
thirty miles of the place, as people choose to
THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 175
build. The population cannot fail to increase
rapidly, for a man can get married for seven-
tyfive cents, town clerk's fees included. The
attraction for settlers must therefore be con-
sidered very great. The Dogtowners are re-
markably industrious, for they get a living,
although constantly grumbling of hard times.
They are moreover ingenious, for they manu-
facture axe handles, wooden bowls, birch
brooms, and white oak cheese, and invent
mouse traps and washing machines. Last of
all, the inhabitants of Dogtown are literary
and intellectual, for they talk a great deal of
the march of improvement, and the minister
and the lawyer take the Penny Magazine be-
tween them.
All these attractions together, form a combi-
nation truly wonderful. But the reader will
be astonished when I inform him that the in-
habitants of this favored spot lived a great
many years without the smallest suspicion of
what I have been describing. They thought
very little of themselves or of the town they
lived in, and continued to vegetate from year
to year without imagining they were better
off than other folks. In fact, the world might
have continued to this day in utter ignorance
that Dogtown was such a wonderful place,
176 DECLINE AND FALL OF
but for an accident ; — an accident I call it, for
the Dogtowners having lived for so many years
without opening their eyes, the fact that they
did open them of a sudden, on a certain day
in the year of grace, 1834, must be considered
purely accidental. Some people are inclined
to ascribe it to the approach of the comet,
which had a powerful influence in opening
people's eyes, — to say nothing of its effect in
driving them stark mad. But that is neither
here nor there. The people of Dogtown open-
ed their eyes and saw : that was enough, they
saw in an instant their immense advantages,
and were astonished that they never had seen
them before. They saw their advantages, I
say, and were determined to turn them to
account.
Straightway Dogtown was all alive ; every
body was confident that Dogtown must be-
come a great place ; and as every body told
every body else so, there was no doubt about
the matter. Every man went to buying land
who could pay for it ; and those who could
not pay, bought upon credit, sure of selling it
at ten times the cost within the year. Nothing
was talked of but the immense advantages of
the place. The riches of Dogtown were in-
deed immense, and how they could have been
THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 177
overlooked so long, was a mystery that no one
could understand. The land within the lim-
its of the town was computed at 720,000,000
square feet, which at only one cent per
square foot, which is cheap enough in all
conscience, would amount to 7,200,000 dol-
lars. What a sum ! But this was not all.
Half of this land was covered with trees at
the rate of one tree to every five feet square,
or quadrangle of twenty five feet : this gave
a computation of 10,400,000 trees ; and as
each tree on an average contained seventy-
five cubic feet of timber, it followed that there
was actually within the town 780,000,000 feet
of timber, worth on the lowest calculation
five cent per foot, which would amount to
39,000,000 dollars. This, added to the value
of the land as above, made a grand total of
FORTYSIX MILLIONS TWO HUNDRED THOU-
SAND DOLLARS !
The mention of these sums almost drove
the good people of Dogtown distracted with
joy ; they could hardly believe their eyes or
ears, but there it was in black and white ;
figures could not lie. They were amazed to
think of their own stupidity and that of their
ancestors in letting fortysix millions two
hundred thousand dollars lie totally idle and
178 DECLINE AND FALL OF
unproductive ; but they were determined not
to allow their wealth to be neglected any
longer. A grand scheme of speculation and
improvement was started, and all rushed
headlong into it. Every man in Dogtown
was now rich, or, what was the same thing,
was sure of being so before long. Immense
tracts were laid out in building lots, and
speculators flocked in from all quarters ; from
Catsville and Weazletown and Buzzardsbor-
ough, and Ganderfield and Crow Corner and
Upper Bugbury and East Punkinton, and
Black Swamp and the Bottomless Bogs.
Such a busy time as the Dogtowners had of
it ! Nothing was talked of but buying land,
building houses, laying out roads, streets,
squares, avenues, rail roads, canals, &c. &c.
&c. People left off ploughing and hoeing,
because agriculture was too slow a method of
making money ; for who would think of raising
turnips to sell, at twenty cents a bushel, when
he could make a hundred times the profit by
speculating in land ?
First of all, it was determined that Dogtown
should be a city. The want of population was
found to be a serious obstacle here ; the
constitution of the state requires ten or twelve
thousand inhabitants for a city ; and as Dog-
THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 179
town, including the suburbs of Puppyville and
Skunk's Misery, contained a population of
only six hundred and thirtyone, it was thought
there might be some difficulty in getting a
charter without anticipating the returns of the
next census. However, a city it must be,
some time or other, in this all w r ere agreed,
and it might as well have the name first as
last ; so they concluded to call it a city. It is
astonishing what a spirit of enterprise these
prospects infused into the people of Dogtow T n.
The schoolhouse door was painted green, un-
cle Joe Stubbins mended the top of his chim-
ney, and it was voted in town-meeting to
purchase three wheelbarrows for the public
use ; — and all in consequence of these pro-
jected improvements. Nay, so widely did their
views of business expand, that Aminadab Fig-
gins, the grocer, determined to give up retailing,
and declared he would n't split crackers nor cut
candles any longer.
Such was the thriving condition of the City
of Dogtown when I left the place in the au-
tumn of that year. I continued to hear of it
through the medium of the Dogtown Daily
Advertiser, a newspaper established there by
an enterprising printer from Connecticut at
the first dawning of the commercial prosperi-
180 DECLINE AND PALL OF
ty of the city. It appeared to go ahead rap-
idly. The newspaper spoke of the Exchange,
the Town Hall, the Bank, the New Post Of-
fice, the Rail Road, Canal, &c. House lots
were advertised in Washington Square, Mer-
chant's Row, State Street, Market Street, &c.
Contracts were proposed for building churches,
manufactories, &c. This was Dogtown in all
its glory.
Last August I determined to make a visit
to this celebrated place in order to feast my
eyes with the splendor of a city that had
sprung up as it were by enchantment. When
I reached the foot of Blueberry Hill, which
overlooks the whole place, I walked eagerly
to the top, in order to catch a view, at a single
glance, of the city in all its magnificence.
To my utter astonishment, instead of spires
and domes, I saw nothing but Deacon Stum-
py's old mansion, with five other ragged and
dingy looking edifices, which stood exactly
w r here I had always known them. I entered
the city through State Street, but discovered
nothing new except a small house without a
chimney. Not a living thing was to be seen
in Washington Square, but three geese, who
were lazily picking a mouthful of grass among
the mud-puddles. I inquired for the Ex-
the city of dogtown. 181
change, and found it in use by the Deacon as a
cow-pen. The new church, however, I was
told had actually proceeded as far as the raising
of the timbers ; but it was subsequently sold by
auction to pay for digging the cellar.
I had a check upon the Dogtown Bank for
three dollars, and wishing to draw the money, I
was directed to No. 19 Tremont Street. This
turned out to be the identical building formerly
occupied by c*ld Kit Cobble, the shoemaker.
It was bank hours, but the bank was shut, and
there was not a soul to be seen. Just as I
was going away, I spied a tin horn hanging by
the door, with a paper over it, on w r hich was
written, " Persons having business at the bank,
are requested to blow the horn." I put the
horn to my lips and blew a blast both long and
loud. After waiting about ten minutes, I spied
Isaac Thumper coming slowly down the road :
he proved to be the cashier of the Dogtown
Bank, and after some difficulty I convinced him
of the safety of cashing the check.
Upon inquiring of Isaac what use had been
made of the fortysix millions two hundred thou-
sand dollars, he informed me that most of it
remained invested in notes of hand. Money
was scarce, and was expected to continue so
until the onion crop had been got in. It was
16
182 DECLINE AND FALL, ETC.
easy to see that the city had sadly declined from
its meridian splendor. In fact, Dogtown has
suffered a complete downfall, for hardly any-
body now speaks of it as a city. They have as
much land as ever, and so long as it continued
to be valued at their own price, they were as
rich as Jews ; but, unfortunately, it fell in value
the moment they expected the purchasers to
pay for it. The Dogtowners are poor enough
at present, but they are not the first, and proba-
bly will not be the last people who have ruined
themselves by building a city on speculation.
PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE
DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE.
AT THE ASINEUM.
The Annual Meeting of the Society for the
Diffusion of Useless Knowledge and the Gen-
eral Confusion of the Human Understanding,
was held at the Asineurn on Monday last ;
the President, the Rev. Dr Bubble, took the
chair, precisely at seven o'clock, assisted by
the Hon. Mr Fudgeneld, and Timothy Tin-
shins, Esq., Vice Presidents. The President
delivered an introductory discourse on the
usefulness of useless knowledge and the ad-
vantages of confusion in the understanding,
which elicited the greatest applause from a
thronged and delighted audience. The follow-
ing is an abridged copy.
Gentlemen of the Useless Knowledge Association:
I have the honor of congratulating you on
this anniversary meeting. We are engaged,
gentlemen, in a stupendous effort. The ob-
ject of our endeavors is to place the founda-
184 PROCEEDINGS OP THE SOCIETY FOR
tions of the intellectual universe on the high-
est state of moral elevation. There is great
truth, gentlemen, in the exaggeration, that the
intense application of human intellect in infi-
nitesimal quantities to the analytical pursuit
of psychological investigation, leads to the
surest mathematical discrimination of moral
idiosyncracies. The human mind, gentlemen,
I consider as composed of two qualities, —
rationaiion and immaterial recipiency. Facts
are imbibed by the inductive process of men-
tal recipiency, and, being rationally rationa-
ted, lead to reason. This we denominate the
March of Intellect : and intellect hath three
branches, namely, logic, metaphysics, and
dogmatics, which, being synthetically com-
bined, constitute man a reasoning animal.
As the Stagyrite remarks, concerning the
method of philosophical induction, " Omnis
ratio de ratione rationans, rationare facit ra-
tionaliter rationando omnes homines rationan-
tes" an axiom which, I apprehend, no one
will deny. In the unenlightened mind, all
attempts at reasoning are in the highest de-
gree unreasonable, just as in the dark all cats
are grey. Gentlemen, we live in an enlight-
ened age ; Peter Parley and the printing press
have effected a moral and hypercritical revo-
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 185
lution ; all men can read the Pandects, the
Novum Organum, and Poor Polly Jenkins.
Instead of the spelling-book and the primer,
our children have Cudworth's Intellectual
System and Adelung's Mithridates. Modern
intellect may be compared to a magnificent
toadstool, which shoots out its head on all
sides, the moment it gets an inch above
ground. Sometimes it has been compared to
an overgrown pumpkin-vine, sprouting right
and left, and grasping at more than it can
hold ; but this is a misrepresentation : the
mind will hold any quantity of knowledge
since the invention of lyceums and encyclo-
pedias ; and there is no difficulty at the pres-
ent day, in getting a quart into a pint pot.
Gentlemen, I say to you, go on. Let useless
knowledge flourish. The world is growing
wise. Man is tall in intellectual stature ; his
heels are on the earth, but his head is in the
clouds.
The following report of the standing commit-
tee was then read.
REPORT.
The Standing Committee of the Society for
the Diffusion of Useless Knowledge and the
16 *
186 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR
General Confusion of the Human Understand-
ing, beg leave to report, that the affairs of the
Society were never in a more prosperous and
desirable condition. They have great plea-
sure in congratulating the Society upon the
encouraging prospects which the present state
of the country holds out to them. Useless
knowledge was never more highly prized or
more eagerly sought after ; and mortal under-
standings were never in a more admirable con-
fusion than at present. Your Committee beg
leave to call the attention of the Society to sun-
dry circumstances which, in their opinion, have
had the most powerful effect in bringing about
these desirable results.
Your Committee feel bound to distinguish
with the most pointed and laudatory regard,
the efforts of the newspaper editors of this
country, who, in the course of the past year,
have labored with the most disinterested zeal
in forwarding the objects of the Society : they
have constantly shown themselves friends of
useless knowledge and confounders of the
brains and understanding of mankind. Your
Committee would particularly call to your
approving notice, the unwearied industry of
these gentlemen in discovering mares' nests,
righting windmills, basting dead cats, bottling
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 187
moonshine, catching Tartars, peeping through
millstones, swallowing earthquakes, gobbling
down piracies, and bridling their asses at the
tail. Your Committee recommend that each
newspaper editor be presented with an ele-
gant leather medal, bearing the inscription,
" Ex fumo dare Zitcem," in allusion to their
wonderful sagacity in sometimes distinguish-
ing smoke from fire.
Your Committee would further point out
to the notice of the Society the various quack
doctors of this country, and in particular the
Vegetable Diet Sawdust Live-forever Starva-
tion tribe ; — useless knowledge is under infi-
nite obligations to these individuals, though
their reward and encouragement w r ould seem
rather to belong to that enlightened associa-
tion, the Society for the Extinction of the
Human Species. Nevertheless, considering
the immense amount of useless knowledge
they have propagated, and its effects in pro-
ducing confusion not only in the understand-
ings, but in the bodies of men, your Com-
mittee do not feel at liberty to pass them by
without some adequate notice. They there-
fore recommend that each of these persons be
presented with a medal of the purest and
hardest bronze, bearing the inscription " Stul-
188 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR
tbrum injinitus est numerus," in allusion to the
very wide field which exists for their praise-
worthy and philanthropic labors.
Your Committee would further recommend
to your favorable notice, those worthy and
enlightened individuals the March of Intellect
Cold Water Tee-totallers, who have manfully
lent their strong assistance towards promoting
the objects of this Society. Your Committee
cannot praise too highly the labors of these
gentlemen in propagating useless knowledge.
The world is indebted to them for the discov-
ery of the method of drinking out of empty
glasses, getting high on cold water, decanting
a bottle of hay, sucking April fog through
goose-quills, and the demonstration by chemi-
cal analysis, that sixteen thousand cubic miles
of moonshine contain alcohol enough to fud-
dle three moschetoes. But the most amazing
discovery due to the ingenuity of these gen-
tlemen, relates to whiskey punch, which they
have ascertained to be not whiskey punch,
but a compound of prussic acid, opodeldoc,
nux vomica, prelinpinpin, coloquintida, peppe-
raria, suderumhatcheta, and a conglomeration
of heterogeneous concoctions too numerous to
mention. The most brilliant discoveries may
still be expected of the Tee-tollers, as they
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 189
are now engaged in an inquiry into the meta-
physical character of pint pots. Your Com-
mittee recommend that each individual of the
March of Intellect Tee-total Association be
presented with a tin dipper of the shallowest
possible form, with the strictest injunctions
never to put his nose into it ; the said tin dip-
per to bear the Spartan inscription, C 'H k*v '7
87iv tag : alluding to the fact, that if they cannot
drink out of it. they can suck round the
edges.
Your Committee further recommend to the
favorable regard of the Society that distin-
guished individual, Dr Humm, the ingenious
reviver of animal magnetism, whose labors in
the cause of the Society deserve the highest
commendation. Dr Humm has not only been
instrumental in' extending knowledge useless,
and more than useless, but he has also thrown
the understandings of many human beings
into confusion worse confounded. His suc-
cess in this particular has been most brilliant,
and many individuals under his influence are
so far gone in their intellectuals, that they do
not show the least glimmer of common sense.
Your Committee beg leave to lay before the
Society a brief relation of the brilliant and
astonishing experiment in animal magnetism
190 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR
performed by Dr Huram upon the person of
a full grown, intelligent and respectable cat
of this city, in the presence of a large number
of citizens of the first talent and respecta-
bility.
" All things being prepared, the cat was
brought into the room and placed in an arm-
chair. The cat was a grey tabby, with a
black and yellow tail, and sea-green eyes,
and a mild and ingenuous expression of coun-
tenance, and appeared to be about four years
old. Doctor Humm assured us there was no
sort of private understanding between him
and the cat, as had been suspected by some
sceptical persons. Indeed, the cat appeared
perfectly innocent, and every body was quite
convinced of her honesty. She stared round
at the company with wondering eyes, as if
not comprehending the cause of the assem-
blage, but could not escape from the chair,
because she was held down by her paws and
tail by five of the gentlemen present. Dr
Humm then began the magnetic operation by
placing the fore and middle fingers of his left
hand over her eyes so as to keep them shut
close, and drawing the fore finger of his right
hand in a direct line from the cat's nose across
her bosom down to the extremity of her left
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 191
paw. The magnetic effect was immediately
apparent. Her tail began to wag, so much
so that the Rev. Mr Fogbrain, who was hold-
ing on by that limb, immediately let it go in
order to witness the result of this strange phe-
nomenon. In thirteen seconds there was a
sensible vibration of the cat's tail, which
waved from side to side, describing twenty-
seven degrees of the segment of a circle. A
general murmur ran throughout the assembly.
1 It wags ! it wags ! ' exclaimed every one —
there was no longer any room for doubt ; the
most sceptical among the spectators was
thoroughly convinced that the tail was wag-
ging, and even that arch unbeliever Simon
Sly was heard to declare he did not doubt of
the waggery.
" Dr Humm now changed his operation,
and commencing as before at the cat's nose,
he passed his two ringers up the skull bone
between the ears, down the occiput, round
under the neck to the tip of the shoulder-
blade, and thence in a straight line down to
the left paw. After thirty one magnetic al
touches in this manner, the wagging of the
tail increased to such a degree as to describe
almost a semicircle, and Dr Humm declared
the animal was sound asleep. As the cat
192 PROCEEDINGS OP THE SOCTETY FOR
gave no evidence to the contrary except by
the wagging, there was no doubt of the fact,
for the Doctor assured us that magnetized
cats always wagged their tails when sleeping.
The cat was therefore declared to be in a fit
state for experiments, and Doctor Humm be-
gan by willing the cat's tail to tie itself up in
a bow-knot : the tail immediately twisted
itself round and described the figure of a
bow-knot in the air. This was witnessed
with astonishment by every one in the room.
Mr Noddy seeing the wonderful effect of the
experiment, signified a wish to bear a part in
the operation, to which Dr Humm very po-
litely consented. Mr Noddy therefore pro-
ceeded to magnetize the cat from the tip of
the lower jaw, under the chin, across the tra-
chea and thorax, down to the heel of the right
paw : the cat immediately gave a loud mew :
which in a sleeping cat must have been a
sure sign that something ailed her. Mr Nod-
dy then willed her nose to be in a rat-hole,
which took immediate effect by the cat's
snapping sharply at his fore finger. This as-
tonished the company a second time, and Dr
Humm made a third experiment by willing
the cat to be thrown souse into Frog Pond.
The Rev. Mr Fogbrain immediately let go
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 193
her fore paws, and strange to say, they began
pad, padding, as if attempting to swim. The
murmurs of admiration that ran round the
company at this wonderful sight are not to be
described. c She swims I she swims ! ' ex-
claimed every one ; the proof was complete ;
most of the spectators could hear the splash-
ing of the water in the pond, and some even
imagined they could see the hdovs chucking
stones at her. After this had been displayed
to the full satisfaction of the company, Dr
Humm willed her to come safe ashore ; not-
withstanding, her paws continued to paddle,
but this was easily accounted for, as the Doctor
assured us she would stand perfectly still as
soon as she got her land-legs on.
"Various other experiments followed, which
we have not space to describe in detail. Dr
Scantiwit willed the cat to be in a mustard
pot, whereupon she immediately gave a loud
sneeze, and made an immensely wry face,
Mr Milksop willed her to be lapping cream,
on which she gave a hearty purr and licked
her chops three times. Mr Dryasdust willed
her to scratch his wig, and at the same mo-
ment felt a sharp tingling under his skull-
bone, by which he was convinced he had
something there, &c. &c. ,?
17
194 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR
Your Committee having laid before the
Society these wonderful experiments, recom-
mend that Dr Humm, and each of the indivi-
duals who assisted as above, be presented
with the Freedom of the Corporation of Fool's
Paradise.
Your Committee would recommend to the
respectful notice of the Society the various
public lecturer's of this portion of the country,
and in particular, those who treat of German
metaphysics. Coleridgism, optimism, and sim-
ilar ultra-mundane exaltations of the human
intellect. Your Committee suggest that a
prize be proposed the ensuing year for the
best dissertation on the following subject, —
" The Influence of Transcendental Metaphy-
sics on the Growth of Cabbages." They re-
commend that each transcendentalist be pre-
sented with a broomstick of not-walnut for
the purpose of flying through the air.
Your Committee would trespass too far
upon the time of the Society, were they to
enumerate at length all the matters which
deserve their attention. They are obliged
reluctantly, therefore, to pass with a bare men-
tion, the great number of old women, quid-
nuncs, schemers, dreamers, steamers, system-
mongers, method-mongers, improvers-of-soci-
THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 195
ety, &c, who are now exercising so vast an
bfluence in this country. They recommend
that a medal be struck, emblematical of the whole
of this enlightened community ; the said medal
to bear on one side the figure of a toad just ready
to jump, with the legend, " Sedet, eternwnqve
sedebit," in allusion to the march of intellect ;
and on the reverse, the figure of a corn-stalk
monument, with the words, Ci *Ere pertnnius"
in allusion to the lasting fame of all march-of-
intellect people.
BOSTON LYRICS.
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel !
Oh ! what a dismal doom is mine !
To hear each morn that horrid yell
Bellow'd from four o'clock till nine.
When up the eastern arch of blue,
Dan Phcebus drives his fiery wain,
Slumber and dreams and rest, adieu!
I court the drowsy god in vain ;
For hark ! the cry, — I know it well,
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel !
I 'm vexed to wrath : — I 've got the blues,
It really is too much to bear.
Will ne'er one matutinal snooze
Knit up my " ravelled sleeve of care" i
Presumptuous wish ! — relentless spite !
Just as I drop into a swound,
When morning hours to sleep invite,
A caitiff, whom ihe plagues confound,
Roars loud as any 'larum bell,
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel !
Obstreperous cur! — He '11 be my death,
I wish he 'd other fish to fry,
May throttling hiccups catch his breath,
And yawnings twist his jaws a-wry.
Hear it again ! that stentor note !
That loudest of ten thousand tongues !
The wrathful gods have steeled his throat,
And gifted him with brazen lungs !
^T will surely be my funeral knell,
Fresh mackerel! Fresh mackerel 1
BOSTON LYRICS. 197
Oh, powers of sleep ! what would I give
That I could go to bed betimes !
But 't is my luckless lot to live
Scnbbling vile prose and viler rhymes-
Perforce I trim the midnight flame,
And when to late repose I lay
Nid-nodding down, my weary frame,
I hear him just at break of day
Come bellowing like a demon fell,
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel !
Time was, in peace ] closed my eye;
Knew many a slumber, long and deep.
But now this vender of vile fry,
Like old Macbeth, " hath murder'd sleep."
How startling on my ear it falls,
When visions crown the blissful hours,
Of orient domes and golden halls,
And fairy isl >s and Paphian bowers,
The bursting of that magic spell,
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel I
Oh, City Marshal ! must I sup
More full of horrors ? Sir, I wish
You 'd stir your stumps and hunt me up
The ordinance on crying fish.
r T is your high function to look out
That Boston folks receive no harm.
Then cast those Argus eyes about,
Lift up at once that potent arm
And silence that confounded yell,
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel !
17
BOB LEE.
A TALE.
In a remote region of the Hoosac Moun-
tains is a little place called Turkeytovvn. It
is a straggling assemblage of dingy, old
fashioned houses surrounded by the woods,
and the inhabitants are as old fashioned as
their dwellings. They raise corn and pump-
kins, believe in witches, and know nothing of
rail roads or the march of intellect. There
has never been more than one pair of boots in
the town : these are called u the town boots, "
and are provided at the public expense, to be
worn to Boston every winter by the represen-
tative. I had the satisfaction last week of
actually seeing these venerable coriaceous in-
teguments in official duty upon the long
shanks of Colonel Crabapple of the General
Court, and was struck with becoming awe at
their veteran looks. They seemed to be
somewhat the worse for wear, but the Colonel
informed me the town had lately voted to
BOB LEE. 199
have them heel-tapped, and the vote would pro-
bably be carried into effect before the next ses-
sion.
The present story, however, is not about boots,
but about Bob Lee, who was an odd sort of a
fellow, that lived upon the skirts of Turkeytown,
and got his living by hook and by crook. He
had neither chick nor child, but kept a bachelor's
hall in a rickety old house, without any compa-
nion except an old black hen, whom he kept to
amuse him because she had a most unearthly
mode of cackling that nobody could understand.
Bob used to spend his time in shooting wild
ducks, trapping foxes and musquashes, catching
pigeons, and other vagabond and aboriginal oc-
cupations, by means of which he contrived to-
keep his pot boiling, and a ragged jacket upon
bis back. Nothing could induce him to work
hard and lay up something for a rainy day. Bob
left the rainy days to take care of themselves,
and thought of nothing but sunshine. In short,
the incorrigible vagabond was as lazy, careless,
ragged and happy as any man you ever saw of a
summer's day.
And it fell out upon a summer's day, that Bob
found himself without a cent in his pocket or a
morsel of victuals in the house. His whole dis-
posable wealth consisted of a single fox-skin
200 BOB LEE.
nailed against his back door, drying in the sun.
Something must be had for dinner, and Bob
took down the fox-skin and set off for Deacon
Grabbit's store to sell it. As luck would have
it, before he had gone a quarter of a mile, he
met old Tim Twist, the Connecticut podler, a
crony and boon companion of many years' stand-
ing. Tim, who was glad to see his old gossip,
invited him into Major Shute's tavern to take a
glass of New-England. Bob, who had never
signed the temperance pledge, accepted the in-
vitation nothing loth. They sat down over half
a pint and discussed the news. No drink tastes
better than that which a man gets for nothing. It
was a hot day, and both were very thirsty. Tim
was very liberal for a Connecticut man. What
will you have ? In the upshot they found they
had made an immense potation of it : and Bob
took leave of his old friend, clearly satisfied
that he had not taken so heavy a pull for many a
day.
He had hardly got out of sight of the tavern
before he found the road too crooked to travel ;
he sat down under an apple-tree to take a little
cool reflection, but the more he reflected, the
more he could not understand it : his eyes began
to wag in his head, and he was just on the point
of falling asleep, when a bob o'link alighted on a
BOB LEE. 201
branch over his head and began to sing " Bob
o'link I bob o'link ! bob o'link ! " Bob Lee"s
brains were by this time in such a fog, that his
eyes and ears were all askew, and he did not
doubt somebody was calling on him.
" Hollo, neighbor ! " says Bob Lee.
"Bob o'link ! bob o'link ! what ye got ? what
ye got ? what ye got ? " chattered the bird — as-
Bob thought.
" Got a fox-skin," answered he. "D'ye
want to buy ? "
" Bob o'link ! bob o'link ! what 'II ye take ?
what '11 ye take ? " returned the little feathered
chatterer.
" Half a dollar," replied Bob, " and it 's worth
every cent of the money."
" Bob o'link ! bob o'link ! bob o'link ! two
and threepence ! two and threepence I two and
threepence !" was the reply from the apple-tree..
"Won't take it," said Bob ; " it 's a real sil-
ver-grey : half a dollar is little enought for it*
Can't sell it for two and threepence."
" Bob o'link ! bob o'link ! you 'd better,
you 'd better, you 'd better ; two and three-
pence^tvvo and threepence, two and threepence ;
now or never, now or never, now or never."
" Can't ye say any more ? Well, take it
then- I won't stand for ninepence. Hand us
202 BOB LEE.
us over the money," said Bob, twisting his head
round and round, endeavoring to get a sight of
the person with whom he was bargaining.
" Bob o'link ! bob o'link ! bob o'link ! let 's
have it ! let 's have it, let 's have it ; quick or
ye '11 lose it ! quick or ye '11 lose it !"
Bob turned his head toward the quarter from
which the sound proceeded, and imagining he saw
somebody in the tree, threw up the fox-skin,
exclaiming, "There it is, and cheap enough too,
at two and threepence." Mr Bob o'link started
and flew away, singing " Bob o'link, bob o'link !
catch a weazel, catch a weazel, catchaweazel !"
for Bob Lee made clear English of every thing
the bird said, and never doubted all the while
that he was driving a regular bargain with a
country trader. At the same time, spying a toad-
stool growing at the foot of the tree, he imagin-
ed it to be a half dollar, and made a grasp at it.
The toadstool was demolished under his hand,
but Bob happening to clutch a pebble-stone at
the same moment, thrust it into his pocket, fully
persuaded he had secured his coin. "Can't
make change, — remember it next time !" said
he, and so turning about, he made the best of
his way homewards.
When he awoke the next morning, he felt in
his pocket for the half dollar, but his astonish-
BOB LEE. 203
merit cannot be described at finding it metamor-
phosed into a stone. He rubbed his eyes, but
the more he rubbed them, the more like a stone it
looked : — decidedly a stone ! He thought of
witchcraft, but presently recollecting that he had
taken a drop too much, just before the bargain
under the apple-tree, he became of opinion that
he had been cheated, and that the crafty rogue
who had bought his fox-skin, had taken advan-
tage of his circumstances to palm off a stone
upon him for silver. Boo started upon his legs
at the very thought. "A rascal !" he exclaimed,
" I '11 catch him if he 's above ground ! " No
sooner said than done. Out he sallied in a tre-
mendous chafe, determined to pursue the rogue
to the further end of the state. He questioned
every person he met, whether he had not seen
a crafty looking caitiff sharking about the town
and buying fox-skins, but nobody seemed to
know any such creature. He ran up and down
the road, called at Major Shute's tavern, at
Deacon Grabbit's store, at Colonel Crabapple's
grocery, at Tim Thumper's shoemaker's shop, at
Cobb's bank and at Slouch's corner, but not a
soul had seen the man with the fox-skin. Bob
was half out of his wits at being thus baulked
in his chase, never imagining he was all the while
in pursuit of an innocent little bob o'link.
204 BOB LEE.
In great vexation at this disappointment, he
was slowly plodding his way homeward, when
he came in sight of the spot where he had made
this unfortunate traffic with the roguish unknown.
* c Oh apple-tree ! " he exclaimed, tc if thou
bee'st an honest apple-tree, tell me what has be-
come of my fox-skin." He looked up as he
uttered these words, and to his astonishment,
there was his fox-skin, dangling in the air at the
end of a branch ! He knew not what to make
of so strange an adventure, but he was never-
theless overjoyed to recover his property, and
climbing the tree, threw it to the ground. The
tree was old and hollow ; in descending, he
thrust his foot into an opening in the trunk, some
distance above the ground, and felt something
loose inside. He drew it out and found it was
a heavy lump, which he imagined at first to be
a stone wrapped round with a cloth. It proved,
however, on examination, to be a bag of dollars !
He could hardly believe his eyes, but after
turning them over and over, ringing them upon
a stone and cutting the edge of some of them
with a knife, at length satisfied himself that they
were true silver pieces. The next inquiry was,
how they came there, and to whom they be-
longed. Here he was totally in the dark. The
owner of the land surely could not be the pro-
BOB LEE. 205
prietor of the money, for he had no need of a
strong box in such a sly place. The money
had lain in the tree some years, as was evident
from the condition of the bag, which was nearly
decayed. Was it stolen ? No — because no-
body in these parts had lost such a sum. Was
it the fruit of a highway robbery ? No robbery
had been committed in this quarter, time out of
mind. There were no imaginable means of ac-
counting for the deposit of money in such a
place. The owner or depositor had never re-
turned to claim it, and was now probably dead
or gone away, never to return.
Such were the thoughts that Bob revolved in
his mind as he gloated over his newly gotten
treasure. At first he thought of making the dis-
covery public, but reflecting on the many annoy-
ances which this would bring upon him in the
inquisitive curiosity of his neighbors, and more
especially considering that the cash must in con-
sequence lie a long time useless, ere he could be
legally allowed to apply it as his own property,
he resolved to say nothing about it, but to con-
sider the money his own immediately. It was
therefore conveyed the same evening to his
house, and snugly lodged in his chest.
From that day forward it began to be remark-
ed among the neighbors, that Bob Lee was
18
206 BOB LEE.
mighty flush of money, and though he had no
visible means of subsistence, spent a great deal
more than he was wont. More especially it ex-
cited their wonder that his pockets always con-
tained hard dollars, while other people had little
besides paper. There is nothing equal to the
prying curiosity of the inhabitants of a country
village, and the buzzing and stir which an insig-
nificant matter will arouse among a set of inquis-
itive gossips. Everybody began to talk about
the affair, but nobody knew how to account for
it. All sorts of guesses and conjectures were
put upon the rack, but nothing was able to ex-
plain the mystery. All sorts of hints, inquiries
and entreaties were put in requisition. Bob was
proof against all their inquisitiveness and seemed
resolved to let them die in the agonies of unsat-
isfied curiosity.
Bob stood it out for a long while, but human
endurance has its limits, and after being worried
with guesses and questions till he despaired of
ever being left in quiet possession of his own
secret, he began to cast about for a method of
allaying the public curiosity in some measure,
or at least of turning it aside from himself. An
old gossip, named Goody Brown, had laid seige
to him about the affair from the first moment.
One afternoon she dropped in as usual, and after
BOB LEE. 207
some preliminary tattle, recommenced the at-
tack by inquiring with a significant look and
shake of the head, whether money was as scarce
as ever with him. Bob had been for some time
thinking of a trick to play the old lady, and
thought this a good moment to begin his mys-
tification : so putting on a look of great serious-
ness, knitting his brows, and puckering up his
mouth as if big with a mighty secret about to be
communicated, he replied —
" Really Mrs Brown — I have been think-
ing, whether — now you are a prudent woman,
I am certain."
" A prudent woman indeed ! who ever thought
of calling me imprudent ? Everybody calls me
a prudent woman to be sure. You need not
doubt it, though I say so."
" You are a prudent woman, no doubt, and
I have been thinking, I say, whether I might
trust you with a secret ! "
" A secret ! a secret ! a secret ! Oh Mr Bob,
then there is a secret," said the old lady aroused
into great animation by the prospect of getting
at the bottom of the mystery at last.
" Yes, Mrs Brown, to confess the truth, there
is a secret."
" Oh ! I knew it ! I knew it ! I knew there
was a secret. I always said there was a secret.
203 BOB LEE.
I was always sure there was a secret. I told
everybody I knew there must be a secret."
" But Mrs Brown, this must be kept a
secret ; so perhaps I had better keep it to
myself. If you cannot keep a secret — why
then " —
"Good lack! Mr Lee, I am sure you are
not afraid. Never fear me : I can keep a
secret : Everybody knows how well I can keep
a secret."
" Everybody knows to be sure, how well you
can keep a secret ; that is just what I am think-
ing about."
cc Sure Mr Bob, you don't mean to keep me
out of the secret now you have begun. Come,
come, what is it ? You know I can keep a se-
cret ; you know I can."
tc But this, recollect, Mrs Brown, is a very
particular secret ; and if I tell it to you — hey
Mrs Brown, it must be in confidence you know."
" Oh, in confidence ! to be sure in confi-
dence ; certainly in confidence ; I keep every
thing in confidence."
" But now, I recollect, Mrs Brown, that sto-
ry about Zachary Numps — they say you
blabb'd."
u Oh law ! now Mr Lee, no such thing ! I
only said one day in company with two or three
BOB LEE. 209
people — altogether in confidence — that some-
folks might, if they chose, say so and so about
some-folks. It was all in confidence, but some
how or other it got out."
u If you are sure you can keep the secret
then, I think I may trust you with it ; but you
must promise."
u Oh ! promise ! certainly I will promise, Mr
Bob ; nobody will promise more than I will —
that is, I certainly will promise to keep the se-
cret."
" Then let me tell you," said he in a low,
solemn voice, hitching his chair at the same time
nearer to the old woman, who sat with open
mouth and staring eyes, eager to devour the
wished-for secret — " These dollars of mine —
you know, Mrs Brown" — here he stopped,
keeping her in the most provoking suspense im-
aginable.
" Yes, yes, the dollars, the dollars."
" These dollars of mine, you know, Mrs
Brown — why they are dollars — hey ?"
" Yes, the dollars, the dollars, go on, go on,
where do they come from ? Mr Bob, where
do you get them ? Where do you get them ?"
" Why I get tjiem somewhere — you know,
but where do you think ?"
" Yes, yes, you get them somewhere ; I al-
18 *
210 BOB LEE.
ways thought you got them somewhere ; I al-
ways told everybody I knew you must get them
somewhere."
" Very, well, Mrs Brown. "
" Very well ! Mr Lee ; but where do you
get them ? That is the question, — you have not
told me."
" Where do I get them," said Bob slowly and
solemnly, and rubbing his hands together, screw-
ing up his mouth, rolling his eyes and shaking
his head, while the old lady was on the tenter
hooks of suspense and expectation — " Where
do I get them — Now what do you think, Mrs
Brown, of my old black hen ?"
" Your old black hen ! What do you mean ? "
u There 's the thing now ! then you never
guessed, hey ? Is it possible you never heard
the story of the goose with the golden egg ?"
" To be sure," replied Goody, opening her
eyes wider than ever ; " to be sure I have, to
be sure, Mr Bob — to be sure — but your hen,
you know — is not a goose."
u That is very true, Mrs Brown, but here is
another question. If a goose can lay a golden
egg, why can't a hen lay a silver one ? "
" Sure enough, Mr Lee, sure enough, sure
enough," said the old woman, beginning to get
some light on the subject.
BOB LEE. 211
" Sure enough, as you say. Now this black
hen of mine, — every day I go to the nest and
find a silver dollar there ! "
" You amaze me, Bob," said she in the great-
est astonishment. " Who would have thought
it. Indeed ! indeed ! indeed ! and is it true ? "
" Why Mrs Brown, if I do not get them
there, where do I get them ? "
" Sure enough — well, my stars! I almost
knew it — I always thought there was something
strange in the looks of that black hen."
"Ah, you are a cunning woman — but be sure
you keep it a secret."
"To be sure, never fear me. A dollar a
day ! W^ho would have thought it ! Bless me !
what a lucky man. Do, Mr Lee, let me see
the nest ; it must be very curious ; I am dying
to see it."
" Certainly, with all my heart ; but let us see
if there is nobody coming. Ah, step this way ;
I keep her in a snug place, you see, because if
she should run away, what should I do for
cash ?" So saying, he-led the way, and the
old woman trotted after him. He carried her
in at one door and out at another, up this pas-
sage and down that, over, under and through,
zig-zag and round about, through all the rigma-
role turnings and twistings upon his premises,
212 BOB LEE.
in order to give the whole affair an appearance
of greater mystery. At last coming to a little
nook in the corner of his barn, he told her that
was the place. She gazed at it with staring
eyes and uplifted hands, exclaiming, " Was
there ever anything like it!" Bob, to carry
on the trick, concealed a dollar in his sleeve,
and thrusting his hand into the nest, drew it
forth and exhibited it to the old woman, who
was now fully convinced, because she had ac-
tually seen the dollar in the nest, and who could
doubt after such proof ?
It is needless to add that within two days, the
story was trumpeted all over the tow r n, and Bob
was beset with greater crowds than ever ; so far
from diminishing the curiosity of his neighbors
by the stratagem, he found he had augmented it
tenfold. It is not to be supposed that every one
believed the story, but there were enough who
did, and the remainder fell to wondering, guess-
ing and questioning with more pertinacity than
ever. Bob's house w T as besieged from morning
till night, and the unfortunate man, under these
redoubled annoyances, found he had got out of
the frying pan into the fire. He now denied
the whole story, and declared that he had been
only sporting with the credulity of the old Goo-
dy ; but unluckily they would not believe him ;
BOB LEE. 213
people do not like to have their belief in the
marvellous disturbed ; they could not believe
his tale of finding the money in an oak tree,
but that the dollars were got from a hen's nest,
was something worth believing. Bob, at a loss
what to do in this emergency, applied to many
people for advice, and at last was struck with
the following counsel from Deacon Grabbitt.
" If I were in jour place," said the Deacon,
<c I think I would make the hen turn me a pen-
ny : — for why ? If folks believe she gives you
a dollar a day they will be willing to give a good
price for her, and if they buy her and find them-
selves mistaken, that is their look-out. Now I
would put her up at auction and sell her for the
most she will bring : it will be a fair bargain,
provided you warrant nothing !"
This advice seemed excellent, and Bob was
not long in making up his mind to follow it. He
accordingly gave public notice, that he should
expose his hen at auction in front of the Meet-
ing-house on Saturday afternoon next, at four of
the clock. This announcement made a great
stir, and when the time arrived, he found a pro-
digious crowd assembled. Bob mounted the
top of a hogshead with his hen in one hand and
a stick of wood in the other, and began the fol-
lowing harangue —
214 BOB LEE.
11 Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong ! Ahoy,
ahoy, ahoy ! Know all men by these presents.
Whereas, nevertheless, notwithstanding. Gen-
tlemen please to come to order and attend to the
sale. Here we are in the name of the common-
wealth, and here is the fowl all the world is talk-
ing about, now to be sold to the highest bidder.
Whoever buys her will get a black pullet for his
pay, but as to silver dollars, that is neither here
nor there ; I warrant no such thing, but it may
lie, and it may not be ; nobody knows all the
pickings and scratchings of the hen creation.
I '11 warrant the creature to be sound of wind
and limb, but whether her eggs are round or flat,
] shan't be flat enough to swear quite so round-
l\ r : that is the buyer's affair, not mine. Gentle-
nen, I moreover warrant her to be a black hen,
and that no washing can make her white except
whitewashing. But whether black or white,
nobody can say black is the white of her eye,
for she is as honest a soul as ever picked up a
crumb, and if she deals in dollars, you may de-
pend upon it they are not counterfeit. Who-
ever buys her will get his money's worth if he
does not give too much ; and he may reckon
on any reasonable number of chickens, provided
he does not reckon them before they are hatched.
Gentlemen, I won't be certain as to her age,
BOB LEE. 215
but I will assure you this, that if she is too
young, it is a fault will grow less and less every
day. Here she goes. What '11 ye give mo ?
What '11 ye give me ? What '11 ye give mn ?
Come bid away, gentlemen, and make your for-
tunes. Some folks say I have made my fortune
by her, and good luck betide them while they
speak the truth, say I. People say this and that,
but I say nothing. So, who buys my hen ? —
Going — going, going! "
The old hen set up a loud cackling, and flut-
tered her wings prodigiously, at the conclusion
of this speech, much to the astonishment of the
crowd of spectators, who gaped, stared and
scratched their heads, imagining that the crea-
ture understood every word of what was uttered,
and never suspecting that Bob had given her a
smart pull by the tail to make her squall out.
They shook their heads and observed that the
creature looked as if she saw something : J3ob
called out for bidders, but his customers with
true Yankee caution, bid slowly, and made very
low offers : at last, however, she was knocked
off to a credulous bumpkin, named Giles Elder-
berry, for six dollars, to be paid in corn and po-
tatoes at a fair price the next fall. Bob deliver-
ed him the hen, and took Giles's note of baud
for the pay.
216 BOB LEE,
Giles took his purchase home in great glee,
hugging himself with the prospect of having a
heap of silver ere many days. He bestowed
her snugly in his hencoop, and was hardly able
to shut his eyes that night, by thinking of the
fortune that awaited him. Next morning he ran
to the nest, but was disappointed in not finding
the dollar. He waited all day and saw the night
approach, but nothing rewarded his patience.
He began to scratch his head, but presently be-
thought himself that it was Sunday, and the hen
being orthodox would not lay till the next day.
So he went to bed again with undiminished
hopes. But Monday came and there was no
dollar to be seen : he cudgelled his brain and
suspected there might be witches in the case ;
thereupon he nailed a horse-shoe on the door of
the hencoop and waited another day, but noth-
ing came of it. He now sat down upon a log
of wood, and fell to pondering upon the matter
with all his might ; finally another thought
struck him, and he imagined a nest-egg might
be wanting. Straightway he procured a dol-
lar and lodged it in the nest, but it did not
bring him even six per cent, interest, for the
next day there was a dollar and no more. He
tried various other expedients but they all
failed in the same manner. The neighbors
BOB LEE. 217
inquired about his success, but he informed them
that the hen put it off terribly. He consulted
Bob Lee about it, and got only a bantering an-
swer and a hint about the note of hand. Giles
was not to be bantered out of his belief, but laid
the .case before sundry of his acquaintance who
were notorious for their credulity in all marvel-
lous affairs. Most of them gave it as their opin-
ion that the hen was bewitched, and Giles was
already inclined to the same belief : his only so-
licitude now was to discover some means of
disenchantment.
At length a waggish fellow of the town, who
had got a scent of the affair, meeting Giles one
day, informed him that he knew of a scheme
that would do the job for him. Giles begged
earnestly to know it and promised as a recom-
pense to give him the first dollar the hen should
lay, in case the plan succeeded, "for you know,"
said he, " it is a fair bargain, no cure, no pay."
— "You'll find that, next fall," replied the
fellow. He then communicated the scheme, by
which Giles was instructed to go to the top of
Blueberry Hill the next morning at six o'clock,
mark out a circle on the ground, set up a tall
pole in the centre with the hen at the top : he
was then to walk three times round it, heels
foremost, say the A B C backwards, sing a stave
19
218 BOB LEE.
of Old hundred, cry cock-a-doodle-doo, and
sneeze three times — all which he was assured
would break the spell.
Giles took all this for gospel, and the next
morning he was on the spot ready prepared at
the hour. He set his fowl up in the air and
went to work with the incantation ; all was going
on prosperously and according to rule : he had
got through the psalm tune, crowed as exactly
like an old rooster as one could wish, and was
just taking a thumping pinch of Scotch yellow
to enable him to sneeze with more effect, when
casting his eyes aloft he descried a monstrous
hen-hawk upon the wing in the act of making a
stoop at his enchanted fowl. Giles blurted out
a tremendous sternutation, but the hawk was not
to be sneezed out of his prey, for before he
could rub away the tears which this explosion
shook into his eyes, souse came the hawk upon
the hen, and both were out of sight among the
woods !
Giles scratched his head and stared with
wonder, but they never came back to giv r e any
account of themselves : he is certain although,
that had he got through the incantation half a
minute sooner, the hen would have been as safe
as a thief in a mill. I have heard people say
that he has still some expectation of their return,
BOB LEE. 219
but I believe he has given up speculating in
poultry. However, the memory of the story
remains in those parts, and when a person does
anything that shows uncommon wisdom, such as
discovering that the Dutch have taken Holland,
or that asses have ears, he is said to be akin ta
the witches, like Bob Lee's hem
HORACE IN BOSTON.
EPODON OD. II.
Beautus ille qui procul negotiis.
" Happy the man, escaped from town,
Who sits in rural snuggery down,
And takes to cultivation."
Thus Daniel Discount pondering said,
And shook his calculating head
In lonely cogitation.
" Oh ! would it were my only care —
A turnip patch an acre square ;
A corn-field somewhat wider ;
Ten trees that rosy apples hring,
The large, for dumplings just the thing ;
The smaller crabs for cider.
" My eye ! but 't is a glorious dream ; —
A flock of sheep ; — a four-ox team ;
Fit for domestic labors ;
A Byfield pig ;— a mongrel goose ; —
A dapple steed for private use ; —
A donkey for my neighbors.
" Within my whitewashed garden wall
I '11 rear me kitchen greens of all
Choice orders and conditions.
Here pumpkins shall bedeck the ground ; —
There, mighty cabbage heads, as sound
As many a politician's.
" String b2ans 1 '11 raise, of many a class ;
My pease in flavor shall surpass
All gormandizing wishes ;
And onions of astounding size
Start iron tears from Pluto's e3 r es,
When served among his dishes.
HORACE IN BOSTON. 221
" And up and down the fields I '11 stray,
Where lambkins frisk the livelong day,
And pigs and poultry squabble ;
Or round my barn-yard sauntering go,
To hear the doughty cockerels crow,
And valiant turkeys gobble.
" And then my dining-room shall be
Under a shady greenwood tree; —
There o'er my pewter platter,
While I courageously fall to,
The plaintive turtle-dove shall coo,
And bob o'links shall chatter.
" Give me a plain and frugal meal ; —
A shin of beef,— a scrag of veal ;
A hoe-cake like a squatter's.
Some little kickshaw stew or fry ;
A gooseberry snap ; — a pumpkin pie ; —
A boiled sheep's head and trotters.
" Oh for that dish to bumpkins dear !
Which suits all seasons of the year,
Calm, blustering, bright or cloudy ;
I doubt what learned Thebans call
The same, but Yankee natives all
Have christened it Pan-Doicdy*
" With line and rod of cane-pole stout,
I '11 tickle many a simple trout,
Which all esteem a crack fish ;
Along the streamlet's sunny side,
I '11 lay me down perdue, yet wide
Awake as any blackfish.
* This rustical and true Yankee dish is? not now, we trow, often
seen at table in Boston, should any citizen be ignorant of its nature,
we beg leave to inform him, on the authority of Dr Dryasdust, that
it is a prodigious apple-pie, with a brown crust, baked in a deep pan,
■undcnome ■;. Crust and contents are crushed into a chaos ; and when
served up cold, as the Doctor says, credit? Pisoncs, it is fit for an Arch-
duke.
19*
222 HORACE IN BOSTON.
" Notes, bills, deeds, bonds — I will not scan
Those daily plagues of mortal man
My eyes no more shall light on.
All paltry pelf I now despise,
To bear away a nobler prize —
The best bull-calf at Brighton.
" No whims of fashion I '11 obey,
But dress in homespun, green or grey,
Drab, yellow, dun or grizzle.
No more John Kuhn &, Co. shall strait
Lace up these limbs ; no more this pale
Shall Bogue & Dudley frizzle.
" Ah ! busy Boston's bustling sons !
Beneath blue-devils, dust and duns,
Forever fagged and flustered, —
A long adieu ! and so good bye,
For lo ! I 5 m off — as said the fly,
When flitting from the mustard."
Thus Daniel, in poetic mood,
Near State Street corner, pondering stood,
Of passers-by unheedful ; —
When lo ! up steps a needy knave ;
Pops in his hand a note to shave :
Great premium for the " needful."
He lifts his head — he stirs bis frame —
He scans the sum and signer's name,
With gestures quite alarming.
His air-built casiles disappear ;
Fifty per cent, for half a year
Is fatter gain than farming.
This, in a trice, dispelled the charm ;
Daniel has never bought his farm,
Nor thinks of it, that I know,
And. gentle reader, well or ill,
The hunks will cash your paper still,
When'er you lack the -rhino.
THE DEAD SET.
WHEREIN I SPEAK OF MOST DISASTROUS CHANCES.
BY A NERVOUS MAN.
The clock struck two, a welcome sound, for
it was the dinner hour. Some people dine at
five ; let them. I am a man of appetite, and
am sharp-set full three hours sooner. A cool
air and a long walk in the forenoon had con-
tributed in fitting me to enjoy the bounties of
Providence with particular relish. The table
already smoked under a load of savory viands.
The flavor that reeked upwards from a dozen
dishes would have overpowered in genial fra-
grance, all the incense ever snuffed by a Pagan
divinity.
As I moved by the window, my eye was
caught by a sign newly erected on the oppo-
side side of the street: " Ready-made coffins
for sale here /" Confusion ! Was ever a sight
so mal-apropos ? To be caught just at the
moment of dinner, with such a damper to the
spirits ! Was the thing possible ? I looked
again. It was no illusion. I even fancied
I could see the horrid receptacles within the
224 THE DEAD SET.
door. A cold shivering came over my frame.
I rushed to the table, but could not get the
direful image from my mind. I remembered
that I had a fit of sickness some fifteen years
before ; and " what," thought I, " if I should
be sick again !" The idea made me a little
qualmish at the first start. I began to eat, but
alas ! my appetite had fled — I could not tell
how. It was to no purpose that dish after
dish was set before me ; my languid palate
refused to be excited by all the condiments of
the cooking art ; spices were no longer stimu-
lating, nor pickles provocative. Can a worse
accident happen, the longest day in the year,
than to lose one's dinner ? Think of my
vexation, then, to be baulked at the very thresh-
old, and by such a provoking occurrence.
I put up with the disappointment as philo-
sophically as I was able. " To-morrow,"
said I to myself, " I shall get over it, and make
amends for lost time." Never was fond anti-
cipation more cruelly falsified. The sight of
that accursed sign had lost none of its dire po-
tency. I could net eat my dinner ! Just so
the next day and the next. It was a perpetu-
al scarecrow to my affrighted appetite. I
never could look out of the window without
seeing it ; in fact, it seemed to be stereotyped
THE DEAD SET. 225
on my brain. This could not be endured long.
I began to grow thin. Horrid ! I was thought
of for an alderman not six months before.
So I changed my lodgings ; no inconsider-
able exertion for " men of mould." I hate to
be moving about. " Make them like unto a
wheel," I always regarded as the bitterest
curse ever uttered. I chose a different part of
the city, and took care never to w T alk through
the street I had quitted. In a short time I be-
gan to pick up.
I had not quite recovered my pristine rotun-
dity, when I was aw r akened one morning just
at day-break, (I never rise before ten.) by a
violent ringing of the door-bell. In less than
a minute the house-maid burst into the room
with u Sir, Doctor Burdock has come to see
you." " A murrain confound Doctor Bur-
dock," said I, "what is the quack after here ?"
My reply was unattended to by the maid, who
instantly popped out and introduced the Doc-
tor, a cadaverous looking caitiff, attended by a
couple of fellows — young beginners, I sup-
pose, in the art of killing. u Ah !" exclaimed
he, " lucky we found you so quick — called
at three houses in this street before we came
to the right one, — some alteration made in
the numbers last week. But I must proceed
226 THE DEAD SET.
to work immediately — hope you sent for me
the moment you felt the first symptoms."
My astonishment at this unexpected intrusion
prevented me from uttering a word for a few
moments ; but at length I asked,
" What is your business here ?"
" My dear sir," he replied, "I cannot stop
to describe to you the whole extent of my
practice in the city, because you might die
in the mean time, you know. How long ago
did you swallow the poison ?"
" Sir," said I, " you are altogether mista-
ken, I have swallowed no poison, nor "
" Nonsense — it is idle to say that saltpetre
is not poison ; a whole ounce at a time.
Terrible burning pain in the stomach, you
say. Warm water, girl, immediately."
" I tell you, Doctor, you have called at the
" Fiddlestick — no matter whether I call it
by the wrong name or not ; poison is poison,
call it what you will. I must apply the
stomach pump immediately."
" Get out of the house, blockhead ; I '11
have none of your infernal machines thrust
down my throat. I tell you again, I am not
"Ah, what an obstinate man ! — and just
THE DEAD SET. 227
on the brink of the grave, perhaps. Some
people will have their way, though they die for
it. But we cannot wait."
"Go to the "
" Bless me ! he begins to rave ! — See how
his eyes roll. 'Tis the effect of the poison.
Quick ! quick ! seize him by the arms — hold
his mouth open. Poor man ! I fear it is all over
with him ! "
My condition was now desperate. I was
already in their clutches ; but despair gave
me strength. I lent the doctoi a punch in the
ribs with all the force I could exert, which
threw him over backwards ; and in falling?
luckily for me, he knocked down one of his
assistants. Ere they had a moment's time
to pick themselves up, I attacked the third,
and pitched him out of the room. Then re-
turning to the two fallen heroes, I succeeded
in trundling them through the door-way on
all fours. I then clapped the door to, and
locked it in an instant. For a moment I im-
agined myself in safety, but presently over-
heard them speak of fetching a crow-bar, and
bursting open the door "to save the poor
creature's life,'" as they compassionately add-
ed. Not an instant was to be lost. I hur~
224 THE DEAD SET.
ried on a few clothes, stripped the bed to
make a rope ladder, fastened it to the window,
slipped out silently, and glided into the street.
I ran through the first narrow lane I came to,
without looking behind me, scampered up
one alley and down another, and did not think
myself out of danger till I was entirely out of
breath.
What became of Dr Burdock I cannot say,
for I felt too great a horror at the danger I
had escaped, ever to go near the scene after-
ward. I took new lodgings, and began to re-
cover from the effects of the catastrophe.
There is nothing like a sudden fright for tak-
ing down a man's flesh. However, for a
long while, I could not hear the door-bell
ring of a morning, without being thrown into
a cold sweat ; and if ever the nightmare as-
sailed me, it was sure to come in the shape of
a stomach pump, with a nozzle as big as the
boiler of a steamboat, sticking fast in my
windpipe. After a time, I recovered some
serenity of mind, and was master of a tol-
erable appetite. Ah ! with what disconso-
late regrets did I look back upon the golden
days of good eating ! when the peaceful calm
of my mind resembled an unruffled ocean of
THE DEAD SET. 229
turtle soup, and each happy year glided
round with as noiseless and undisturbed a
uniformity as a fat goose revolves on the
spit !
One day I was interrupted in the midst of
my dinner, — I think I had not felt so good
an appetite for many a month. I had been
but an hour and a half at table, and several
courses remained to come on. I was told
there were persons at the door desiring to
speak with me. " Particularly engaged," said
I. — " But they are come on very urgent busi-
ness, and must be attended to," said the ser-
vant — and I observed a strangely mysterious
expression of face with which this was uttered.
I hurried to the door, hardly knowing why.
No man in his senses surely, ever would have
left his dinner for such a thing. But let that
pass. There was a fatality about it. At the
door I was met by four men bearing on their
shoulders a coffin ! I was horror-struck ; all
the terrific forebodings and frightful images
which had haunted my imagination from the
beginning, returned with tenfold blackness. My
hair rose on end. I stood aghast, rooted to the
ground, and had no power to move !
" Are you Mr Brown ? " asked one of the
spectres.
20
230 THE DEAD SET.
" I am," replied I. (John Brown, good
reader is my unfortunate name.)
"Here is the coffin we have made for you.
We have worked upon it with all possible des-
patch, because we knew you would want it im-
mediately."
" But I have no particular desire to be bu-
ried," said I, trembling, and unable to stand
without leaning against the wall.
"That is neither here nor there," they re-
plied. "Our business is to bring it to this
place for Mr Brown, who is to be buried to-day.
You are the man."
"But I am not dead, nor likely to die. I
have just eaten a hearty dinner — that is, I
have begun to eat it. You surely won't put
me in the ." I could utter no more ;
fright absolutely took away the power of
speech.
" Why not ? " returned they, with certain
significant winkings. " We are accustomed
to despatch our business and ask no ques-
tions."
It was plain now that there was a conspi-
racy to bury me alive. What could be done ?
If I retreated into the house, I could hope for
no protection from the inmates, who were
doubtless in the plot. How otherwise would
THE DEAD SET. 231
a coffin have been brought to the door ? There
was no resource but to cut and run. I pushed
through the entry, knocking down two of the
conspirators as I sprang out of the door, and
took to my heels without a hat. Turning a
corner, and losing sight of my pursuers, I came
upon a hack standing in the street, with the door
open. I sprang in without a moment's thought,
glad of any means of escape. The hackman,
thinking me to be the person he had been wait-
ing for, shut the door, mounted the box, and
drove on.
The fatigue I had suffered in running, threw
me into a slumber. At last I was awakened and
told I had reached the place. On alighting I
found myself in a yard, from which I was con-
ducted into a spacious building, which I took for
a tavern. I imagined myself at some distance
from the city, and congratulated myself on my
escape from it. Unlucky wretch ! — 1 was at that
moment in the Massachusetts General Hospital !
In a few moments I found myself surrounded
by numerous members of the faculty. " This
patient," said the principal surgeon, taking my
head between his hands, " is afflicted with a
paralysis of the lower jaw — be so good as to
open your mouth." I shook my head, strug-
gling to get free, but he held on the faster. " We
232 THE DEAD SET.
shall now proceed to exhibit some electrical ex-
periments upon him, which I am strongly of
opinion will be attended with beneficial results ;
the worst that may happen is, that they may
knock out his grinders, and loosen some of his
front teeth."
These horrible words sounded in my ears like
a death-knell. I could not speak ; for the sci-
entific operator had distended my jaws to the
utmost stretch with a wooden gag, which I in
vain attempted to force out. My hands were
secured, and I was held fast in my seat by the
doctors, who all crowded round me. "It would
be such a beautiful experiment," said they.
Was ever any destiny like mine ? Driven half
to distraction by ready-made coffins on one day
— attacked by a stomach-pump on another —
within a hair's breadth of being buried alive on
the next, and now the grinders about to be blown
out of my jaws by a broadside from an electri-
cal battery !
" Verily," thought I, " this is destined to be
the last day of my life ; " an army of doctors
are upon me, armed with all sorts of blood-thirs-
ty weapons. Death or dislocation will most as-
suredly be my lot." I grew as pale as a sheet :
the perspiration stood in large drops upon my
face. I began to bellow like a bull of Bashan,
THE DEAD SET. 233
and struggle and kick with all vengeance. Noth-
ing seemed likely to avail me, and the machine
approached that was to disable my powers of
mastication forever, when all at once, the back
of the chair gave way, and a dozen of us w r ere
sprawling on the floor in an instant. With the
quickness of lightning I sprang to the door, cleared
every passage to the street, knocking down all
that came in my way, and throwing chairs and
tables behind me to encumber the passage for
my pursuers. On gaining the street, I continued
running, determined to escape from the city as
quick as possible. I directed my course to-
wards West Boston bridge, but just as I set my
foot upon it, the draw was hoisted for the pas-
sage of a sloop. I turned about and ran to the
Western Avenue. I had proceeded a quarter
of a mile upon it when I was stopped by the
sight of a strange looking carriage approaching
me ! It was a hearse !
" Then came my fit again ! " I could no more
have endured to encounter it, than I could have
faced a hungry tiger. Most assuredly had I ap-
proached it, I should have been seized and car-
ried off ; for so my terrified imagination whisper-
ed me. Again I turned and ran back. After
passing through several streets, my terror a lit-
tle subsided ; I felt a gnawing hunger ; — think
20 *
234 THE DEAD SET.
of an unfinished dinner, and the galopades I
had practised ! It was now evening, and I en-
tered a tavern. I ordered a supper, and while
it was getting ready, attempted to divert my mind
from the harrowing thoughts that occupied it,
by reading the various bills with which bar-
rooms are generally ornamented. But woful at-
empt ! the first that met my eye was a staring
sheet, headed with an enormous black coffin, and
the title of u An Elegy on the Death of Mr
John Brown, icho committed suicide under men-
tal derangement occasioned by a scolding wife,
etc." In a paroxysm of horror and vexation, I
:ore the sheet to atoms, and rushed into the
street. All human things seemed combined to
drive me mad. It was raining cats and dogs.
" I '11 drown myself," said I, " and make an
end of it." I cannot say I was quite serious
in the resolution, but I ran towards the wharf,
determined at least to devise some means of es-
caping from the city by water. But how idle to
struggle against the decrees of fate ! Passing
through Broad Street, I stumbled into a cellar
among a troop of Irishmen, who were holding a
wake over the dead body of one of their coun-
trymen. I lost my senses by the fall ; and the
Paddies having settled the matter that I was kilt,
resolved to bury us both together, in order to
save time.
"An army of doctors or? W<? n
THE DEAD SET. 235
I know not how it happened, but when I came
to myself I was scampering off at full speed
with the whole troop in pursuit, calling out to
me to come back and be buried " dacently like
a jantleman." The upshot of it was that I fell
into the dock.
The Humane Society must tell the rest. I
am still alive and have not been buried, though
I consider it a downright impossibility to avoid
the catastrophe much longer. I now feel dis-
posed to take the matter into my own hands, and
fairly to entomb myself for some short and safe
space of time, hoping this may break the spell.
Reader, have pity on me. Six months ago I
quite filled a capacious easy chair, and now you
might truss me into an eel-skin. The Three
Perils of Man have long been notorious ; but
there are two others that might make the number
five — A Deputy Sheriff, and a Dead Set.
HORACE IN BOSTON.
LIB. II. OD. XVI.
Otium divos rogiit in patenti.
Oh, man in t]*e moon ! can you tell how it comes
That the town is all bustle and riot ?
When your miserly hunks with his measureless sums,
And the twopenny trader that picks up his crumbs,
All sigh for contentment and quiet.
" Content/' they ding-dong like the chimes of the clock,
" Content," cry the brisk and the lazy ;
Even babbling urchins these syllables mock,
And Paddy O'Splutter that digs in the dock,
Keeps singing, '• Oh let us be asy."
'T is a phantom you study in vain to entrap ;
It comes not by favor like kissing ;
When lost, the town crier can't mend your mishap,
Though he '11 ferret your reverence out, in a snap,
All the children you ever had missing.
No witchcraft can keep the blue -devils at bay ;
You may skulk, — but the spectres will find ye.
There 's an imp at your elbow wherever you stray :
You may saddle your nag, and go dashing *way —
There 's the hypo a-straddle behind ye.
In vain will you traverse the globe to repair
A temper that crooked and crank is.
John Randolph, abroad for a change of the air,
Played as crazy a prank to the Muscovite bear
As ever he played to the Yankees.
HORACE IN BOSTON. 237
Perhaps you are sighing a statesman to shine,
An office you think is so rare O ;
When mounted as high as you wish, I opine
You '11 have just as much comfort, sweet master of mine,
As the toad that gets under a harrow.
Bravely strutting aloft, rn this day ye may be,
On the next, down in dust ye are humble ;
Then scour your breast from cupidity free,
And remember, the higher you clamber the tree,
You 've the heavier bang when you tumble.
Few and short are the naps of a king ; while the clown
All the night in security dozes;
A cushion of state has not much of the down,
And Martin Van Buren I '11 bet you a crown,
Does not loll on a litter of roses.
See the Guelphs of Old England in desperate fear ;
See the props of nobility shaken ;
John Bull has jounced many a notable peer ;
And Wellington, late, with a mob in his rear,
Was lucky in saving his bacon.
See the Dey of Algiers bid his cut-throats adieu,
And lose all his wives and his treasure ;
And sad Louis Philippe most dismally rue
The day that King Charles march'd away from St. Cloud
A little too quick for his pleasure.
Great Achilles, at last was tripped up by the heel ;
Belisarius begged on his knees ; and
Had Cicrro smothered his speech-making zeal
Within little Arpinum, the ruffian steel
Would not have been stuck in his weasand.
And a much longer tale I could spin ye — b;!t why
Should I tell about Pompeys and Catos ?
Even crackskull Emmons, on hogshead high,
.oks his pate in a trice, when the rabble let fly
>ead cats and rotten potatoes.
238 HORACE IN BOSTON.
Though fortune may lead you a few lucky jumps-.
Yet she 's a vile termagrant, mark ye ;
She visits her great ones with buffets and thumps j
I '11 warrant my shoe-black has fits of the dumps,
Because he 's a gentleman darkey.
Then why shonld I nourish ambition and pride,
Or go mad after glory and riches ?
I can plod through the world, be it ever so wide ;
Only give me two things — I ask nothing beside —
A light heart and a thin pair of breeches.
Grim Death has clutched Byron away in his prime }
And made great Napoleon knuckle ;
I suspect I am only reprieved for a time,
Because I can hammer a doggerel rhyme,
And make the citizens chuckle.
Then long may the city and commonwealth thrivs,,
And though I 'm in debt, I don't care if
The limbs of the law take this body alive t
I 've a snug sky-parlor in Ward No. 5 j
So a fig for the Deputy Sheriff,
THE TWO MOSCHETOES.
A DRAMATIC SKETCH,
Scene. State Street. Enter Tfcklenose and Buz zolio. They
alight over the door of the Union Bankt
*■
Tick. Good day, Buzzy. Fitfe hot weath-
er for young pungents. How is the sharp end of
your nose ?
Buz. Pretty considerably 'cute friend Tic-
kle. What brings you from Dorchester flats to-
day ?
Tick. The spirit of inquiry and a southerly
breeze. When did you come to town ?
Buz. Three days ago. — What are they
humming about on the flats ?
Tick. Nothing particularly bloody : the Dor-
chester farmers are as dry as hay. Where is lit-
tle Tinglechin and old Scratchear ?
Buz. Tingle, the little dunce, has broken
the tip of his nose short off, trying to harpoon
the face of a Kilby Street auctioneer : he is now
on the top of a chimney over the Post Office,
grinding it sharp again.
Tick. Let him live and learn. Scratchear
knows a trick worth two of that.
240 THE TWO MOSCHETOES,
Buz. Yes. I just left him making a dig at
an alderman's nose. Tickle, where do you
hang out when you come to town ?
Tick. State Street always.
Buz. Why so ?
Tick. Because I love to see men in a
swarm ; — and then the people here are so much
like moschetoes, they remind me of home.
Buz. Right, Tickle, they are always in a
hum.
Tick. Yes, Buzzy, and they sting as sharp
as any moschetoes. There 's only this differ-
ence ; they sting one another ; — we don't.
Buz. That 's a fact, friend Ticklenose. I
know something about them. Three days that
I have spent in town, have given me a world of
experience. I have scratched the phizzes of all
you see in the street here.
Tick. Who is that sharky looking fellow
coming toward the door ?
Buz. That is Joe Crimp, the money lend-
er. See — he has got a pigeon to pluck. How
the corners of his mouth twist upward ! Ten
per cent, a month, I '11 bet my hind claws : —
nothing else could raise such a grin. There 's
compound interest in the twinkle of his eye.
Tick. Lucky dog! money-making must have
a charm indeed ! If I were not a moscheto, I
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 241
should of all things like to be a money-lender
and haunt State Street.
Buz. Ha ! ha ! how raw you are ! Lucky
dog indeed ! Strike me pug-nosed ! but I would
rather be a dog outright, for a dog can gnaw his
bone in comfort, which is more than you can say
of a note-shaver. What do you think, Tickle,
my wise one ? I lodged at this same man's
house last night : how do you think he slept ?
Tick. Dreaming of money-bags, hey ?
Buz. The first half hour he was ridden by
the nightmare in the shape of the Chelsea Bank :
he puffed and groaned till I thought he would
suffocate. I could not help pitying his condi-
tion, and so I gave him a smart punch under the
left eye. He sprang up half awake and half-
choking, and cried out, " Help ! help ! help !
the post notes are sticking in my throat ! they
won't pass up nor down ! draw them out with a
long discount ! help ! help !" After gasping some
time, he came to himself and went to sleep again,
but it was only to dream that he was in the in-
fernal regions, where Beelzebub had set him to
skinning flints, squeezing blood out of turnips,
and other occupations which he had learned in
this world. By and bye, he imagined that his face
was chained to the edge of a grindstone which a
score of imps were turning swifter than the fly-
21
242 THE TWO MOSCHETOES,
wheel of a steam engine, and crying out " How
do you like it ? How do you like it ? This is
the sport for a money-broker !" At the same
moment I gave a loud buzz in his right ear, and
he sprang awake in an agony of fright, exclaim-
ing, "Xinetyeight per cent, below par! 0!
malleable iron !"
Tick. Ha ! ha ! ha ! a pleasant night's
sleep. But it 's only a nervous affection, and
he '11 get over it.
Buz. Yes, when he hangs himself.
Tick. What fat chuff is that going into the
Salamander Insurance Office ?
Buz. That is old Skid, the grocer of Long
yS barf; he 's going to his morning rendezvous to
pick up his daily quantum of State Street scan-
dal. Ticklenose ! my pungent little friend I
these insurance offices are such places ! — You Ve
no idea !
Tick. What — Buzzy ? I don 't understand
you.
Buz. [ Clapping the thumb of his right claic to
the side of his nose.'] Spirit of inquiry, Tickle,
hey ! my sharp one !
Tick. Stocks and exchange — Oh I take.
Buz. Pooh! how green you are! No Tickle,
scandal, scandal, scandal !
Tick. Heyday ! what, these old grave cur-
mudgeons ?
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 243
Buz. As I am a true mocheto, Tickle,
these insurance offices are the greatest reposito-
ries of that commodity on the face of the earth.
Tick. You don 't say so ! [Holds up both
his fore-claws in amazement.]
. Buz. They talk of the scandal of old maids,
but the scandal of an insurance office beats it all
to sticks. What do you think these grave cur-
mudgeons do but demolish reputation, manufac-
ture rumors, pick holes in characters and rip up
old stories ?
Tick. Scandalous ! scandalous ! — Could n't
we get a chance to witness something of the
kind, Buzzy !
Buz. That is easy enough, friend Tickle,
but it is sad to see how men are given so slan-
der.
Tick. No doubt of it, Buzzy, but mosehe-
toes can't help that, and as the old lady said,
" If the house is going to burn down, I want to
see it."
Buz. You are an inquisitive insect, I per-
ceive. Let us flit then, I see a knot of these
chaps in the Salamander. Snap your wings and
follow me.
[Scene changes to the Salamander Insurance Office.']
Buz. Here we are, Ticklenose, and here
244 THE TWO MOSCHETOES.
are our heroes, Skid the grocer, Hyde the tallow
chandler, Lump the sugar baker, Fogg the land
speculator, Twist the attorney, Blackball the
bank director, Shirk the underwriter, Slump the
stockbroker, Pinch, Nippum, Snap and Gouge
the money lenders — a precious lot ! — but hear
them talk.
Fogg. [Folding up a paper and placing it
in his pocket book.'] A good spec, Nippum, a
very good spec. I 've got Foster to manage it.
I can depend upon Foster — Foster is an hon-
est man.
Nip. An honest man — but — watch him f
Fogg. Let me alone for that. I 've had
enough to do with fellows like him to know 'em
all. Ugh ! ugh ! [Coughing.] Hard to trust
anybody nowadays.
Slump. There is old Simon Swiggs going
down street. He carries a pretty good face ;
look at him.
Shirk. I guess he lives up to the mark ! —
wonder what it costs him a year. That face of
his don't look like cold water. Ha ! ha ! ha !
[Laughs.]
Blackball. What is this story about Tim
Tenpenny ? I 've an idea it 's rather a black af-
fair.
Gouge. Why, between you and me and the
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 245
post, I guess Tim has got himself into a bad
scrape : — but some folks can hush these things
up. I don't see through it : however, the old
man had to pay up, I guess.
Twist. I know a long story about him — I
say nothing, but if I chose to tell — no matter
— things may come out some time or other.
This is a cursed rascally world — that 's all I
can say.
Lump. I wonder Fogg, how your neighbor
Winkle gets along : won't he kick the bucket
soon ?
Fogg. Don't know : but he lives high
enough.
Lump. Guess he '11 cut up pretty well, hey !
Fogg. Not so certain, — rather think he was
pretty deep in Mississippi stock.
Hyde. People live confounded high nowa-
days — I don't see how they stand it. Egad,
my butcher's bill frightens me every time it
comes in.
Skid. I '11 tell ye what : I went down into
my kitchen yesterday, and I cut my dinner
down three dishes. "There," says I, " if a
man can't live upon that, he ought to starve."
Confound it. There 's Joe Snatchcopper owes
me six thousand dollars — I shall never get it.
The fellow lives like a nabob — and all upon my
21 *
246 THE TWO MOSCHETOES.
money. Never look at him without seeing roast
chickens in his face, and thinking I had to pay
for 'em ! Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! [Coughs.]
Fogg. Bad cough, that of yours, neighbor
Skid.
Skid. Nothing at all, — just a little phthis-
icky touch I 've had for thirty year or so, but
it 's going off, I find.
Twist. Ay, no doubt of that ; my old grand-
father's cough went off just so ; — but it hap-
pened that the old man went off with it.
Skid. You don't say so ! [Somewhat
alarmed.] Really I never was in better health
in my life : — such an appetite as I have ! Yes-
terday I ate a dinner ! — I won't say what, but
if the turkey and chicken and duck and pudding
and pie did n't suffer, there 's none of me, —
that 's all !
Pinch. And that is what you call cutting
your dinner down, and living on short commons ?
[A laugh.]
Skid. Come, now, friend Pinch, what do
you understand by "total abstinence."
Pinch. Not to drink so fast as to choke
yourself.
Skid. [Laughing.] Hoh! hoh ! hoh !
Ugh ! ugh ! [coughs.] That 's just what I
should expect of a tee-totaller. Now, Pinch
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 247
you are a' very devout man, and go to church
regularly. What do ministers preach nowa-
days ?
Pinch. Why, as old Deacon Sly observed
the other day, — " In old times, ministers used
to preach the gospel, but nowadays they preach
nothing but rum and niggers."
Skid. [Laughing.] Hoh ! hoh ! hoh ! Ex-
cellent ! excellent ! and true as the book into
the bargain. But who is that fellow at the cor-
ner, Mr Snap ?
Snap. Oh ! that 's an acquaintance of my
family ; — his name is Snake.
Pinch. Ah, — I understand, — he is to mar-
ry your daughter ; an't it so, Mr Snap.
Snap. May turn out so ; — however, I guess
he don't borrow any more money of me very
soon.
Pinch. How so ? — You 'd lend him, would
n't you ?
Snap. I '11 tell you how it is. It 's all settled
you see, that he 's to have my daughter ; — tol-
erable match; — doing pretty well, but wants
capital. However, no matter for that : — he 's
to marry her you see, that 's settled — I agreed
to it. [Takes a pinch of snuff.] Regular
acquaintance : — tells me all his affairs : — asks
my advice : — all well enough. — Well ! —
248 THE TWO MOSCHETOES.
comes to me t' other day, — wants six hundred
dollars to take up a note ; — pay it again in two
days. Well, you see, — let him have the six
hundred. Ahem ! — all safe enough : memoran-
dum check. — Well ! two days after, — brings
me the money, — brings me the six hundred
dollars, you see : — counts it out, lays it down,
says "much obliged," and was going off, but
says I to him, Mr Snake, you 've forgot the
twenty cents for interest ! Hoh ! hoh ! hoh !
hoh ! Made him pay it ! — made him pay in-
terest ! — told him I would have it ! Hoh !
hoh ! hoh ! [Laughs outrageously.]
Pinch. Speaking of marrying and all that,
reminds me of w T hat I did last winter. There 's
a chap used to come a courting my kitchen
maid : — they used to sit up o' nights keeping
a fire till twelve and one o'clock. Thinks I,
this wont't do, burning out wood at this rate, - —
costs money, hey ! — Won't have it. Went
down into the kitchen, and gave orders to have
no fire evenings, — only a pot of charcoal to
warm their toes : — let them have that to do
their courting by : — egad ! knew it would soon
spoil their sport — Well ! went down into the
kitchen again about eleven o'clock ! — egad !
there they were, sure enough, knocked down
by the charcoal as stiff' as pokers. Hah ! hah !
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 249
bah ! — Doused a bucket of water on them and
brought them to. Egad ! the fellow went off
sick enough : had no more courting o' nights
from him ; — broke that up — short metre.
Hah ! hah ! hah ! [Laughter.]
Blackball. A good joke, a very good joke !
hah ! hah ! an excellent joke. [Looks at his
watch.] Half past one ! Well, I must go to
dinner. [Exit.
Pinch. There he goes ! A sneaking fellow !
What d' ye think ? He would n't discount my
paper at the Triangle Bank ! 'T was all his
doings, confound him, though he knew T I was
suffering for want of the money — would n't
do it though I offered the very best security !
Cursed hard-hearted set these bank directors ! —
have n't the least feeling, nor the least compas-
sion. Ah ! this is a confounded unfeeling hard-
hearted world ! I 'm heartily sick of it !
[Exit.
Shirk. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Served you right,
old Pinch. I '11 tell you what, Mr Slump, it 's
my opinion he 's rather down at the heel.
'T would not surprise me to see him go by the
board before long.
Slump. Should n't wonder.
Fogg. Mr Snap, if it 's a fair question,
an't you on his paper to a heavy amount ?
250 THE TWO MOSCHETOES.
Snap. [Looking very serious.] Not a dollar.
Fogg. Faith I was told so on very high
authority.
Nippum. And so was I, Mr Snap.
Snap. Ods ! my life ! what a rascally
world this is ! How folks are given to lying and
slander !
Gouge. That 's a fact, for t' other day there
was a story got into circulation about me — a
most villanous affair, about negotiating some pa-
per — all a precious lie from beginning to end.
I suppose it was set on foot in the Tornado In-
surance Office : — there 's a set of tattlers go
there every day and hatch mischief with their
infernal scandal.
Lump. If I had my will of such fellows, I 'd
hang 'em up like onions, fifty in a rope. These
rascally backbiters are the pest of creation.
Gouge. I tell you what; — if a man don't
take precious care of his reputation nowadays,
it 's all over with him before he can say " what 's
this ? " Ha ! Is n't that old Levi Lackpenny
t' other side of the street ? Just the man I
want to see. [Exit.
Snap. Yes, and I '11 be bound, you '11 give
a good account of him before you 've done.
Egad ! that Gouge is the sharpest fellow !
He 's at the bottom of half the knavery stirring
n these villanous times.
THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 251
Lump. [Shaking his head.] So I 've heard.
Ah ! this is a confounded slanderous world !
Ho and Joe Crimp got up a story t' other day,
that I had failed.
Snap. How ! they did n't though !
Lump. Fact, Mr Snap, but I made them eat
their own words. Ah ! the- precious rascals !
Skid. Lord ! how this world is given to
slander !
Hyde. What a set of tattling, babbling,
prying, meddling backbiters there is about !
Nippum. It 's strange folks can't mind their
own business !
All. Very strange ! Very strange !
[Exeunt.
[Maneni Ticklenose and Buzz olio ]
Buz. Well, friend Ticklenose ! what is thy
opinion of these pleasant animals called men !
Tick. [Holding up both his fore-claws in
utter astonishment.] Don't ask me, friend
B uzzy ! I am in a tremor of amazement ! My
very nose quakes to think of them. Oh Buzzy !
Buzzy ! Let us thank heaven !
Buz. For what ?
Tick. Thank heaven, Buzzy, that we are
moschetoes and not men ! [Exeunt.
L' ENVOI.
And now farewell ; — my foolish task is done ;
Go, little book, and to oblivion fare.
Chill blasts await thee in the desert air
Of this wise world, inveterate foe to fun.
Closed thy career, perchance, when scant begun,
What crowds will greet thee with a sapient scowl,
And deem that wisdom is a moping owl,
That broods all taciturn, 'mid shadows dun.
Ah ! little reck they of thy meaning sage.
Yet should one eye, bedimm'd with care or pain,
Grow bright in lingering o'er thy sportive page,
'T is my reward ; I shall not toil in vain :
But bless the gentle thought and genial hour,
That deck life's dusty path with one bright flower.
^
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