Part 10 (1/2)
with the devil to it, for he has no home at all. Why, Squire, you might jist as well expect a horse to go right off in gear, before he is halter broke, as a Bluenose to get on in the world, when he has got no schoolin'.
”But to get back to my story. 'Well,' says I, 'how's times with you, Mrs. Spry?' 'Dull,' says she, 'very dull; there's no markets now, things don't fetch nothin'.' Thinks I, some folks hadn't ought to complain of markets, for they don't raise nothin' to sell, but I didn't say so; FOR POVERTY IS KEEN ENOUGH, WITHOUT SHARPENING ITS EDGE BY POKIN' FUN AT IT. 'Potatoes,' says I, 'will fetch a good price this fall, for it's a short crop in a general way; how's your'n?' 'Grand,' says she, 'as complete as you ever seed; our tops were small and didn't look well; but we have the handsomest bottoms, it's generally allowed, in all our place; you never seed the best of them, they are actilly worth lookin' at.' I vow I had to take a chaw of tobaccy to keep from snortin' right out, it sounded so queer like.
Thinks I to myself, old lady, it's a pity you couldn't be changed eend for eend then, as some folks do their stockings; it would improve the look of your dial-plate amazin'ly then, that's a fact.
”Now there was human natur', Squire,” said the Clockmaker, ”there was pride even in that hovel. It is found in rags as well as King's robes, where b.u.t.ter is spread with the thumb as well as the silver knife, NATUR' IS NATUR' WHEREVER YOU FIND IT.
”Jist then, in came one or two neighbours to see the sport, for they took me for a sheriff or constable, or something of that breed, and when they saw it was me they sot down to hear the news; they fell right too at politics as keen as anything, as if it had been a dish of real Connecticut slapjacks, or hominy; or what is better still, a gla.s.s of real genuine splendid mint julep, WHE-EU-UP, it fairly makes my mouth water to think of it. 'I wonder,' says one, 'what they will do for us this winter in the House of a.s.sembly?' 'Nothin',' says the other, 'they never do nothin' but what the great people at Halifax tell 'em. Squire Yeoman is the man, he'll pay up the great folks this. .h.i.tch, he'll let 'em have their own, he's jist the boy that can do it.' Says I, 'I wish I could say all men were as honest then, for I am afeard there are a great many won't pay me up this winter; I should like to trade with your friend, who is he?' 'Why,' says he, 'he is the member for Isle Sable County, and if he don't let the great folks have it, it's a pity.' 'Who do you call great folks?'
said I, 'for I vow I havn't seed one since I came here. The only one that I know that comes near hand to one is Nicholas Overknocker, that lives all along sh.o.r.e, about Margaret's Bay, and HE IS a great man--it takes a yoke of oxen to drag him. When I first seed him, says I, ”What on airth is the matter o' that man, has he the dropsy? For he is actilly the greatest man I ever seed; he must weigh the matter of five hundred weight; he'd cut three inches on the rib; he must have a proper sight of lard, that chap.” No,' says I, 'don't call 'em great men, for there ain't a great man in the country, that's a fact; there ain't one that desarves the name; folks will only larf at you if you talk that way. There may be some rich men, and I believe there be, and it's a pity there warn't more on 'em, and a still greater pity they have so little spirit or enterprise among 'em, but a country is none the worse of having rich men in it, you may depend.
Great folks! Well, come, that's a good joke, that bangs the bush. No, my friend,' says I, 'the meat that's at the top of the barrel, is sometimes not so good as that that's a little further down; the upper and lower eends are plaguy apt to have a little taint in 'em, but the middle is always good.'
”'Well,' says the Bluenose, 'perhaps they bean't great men, exactly in that sense, but they are great men compared to us poor folks; and they eat up all the revenue; there's nothin' left for roads and bridges; they want to ruin the country, that's a fact.' 'Want to ruin your granny,' says I (for it raised my dander to hear the critter talk such nonsense); I did hear of one chap,' says I, 'that sot fire to his own house once, up to Squantum, but the cunnin' rascal insured it first; now how can your great folks ruin the country without ruinin' themselves, unless they have insured the Province? Our folks will insure all creation for half nothin', but I never heerd tell of a country being insured agin rich men. Now if you ever go to Wall Street to get such a policy, leave the door open behind you, that's all; or they'll grab right hold of you, shave your head and blister it, clap a straight jacket on you, and whip you right into a mad house, afore you can say Jack Robinson. No, your great men are nothin' but rich men, and I can tell you for your comfort, there's nothin' to hinder you from bein' rich too, if you will take the same means as they did. They were once all as poor folks as you be, or their fathers afore them; for I know their whole breed, seed and generation, and they wouldn't thank you to tell them that you knew their fathers and grandfathers, I tell you. If ever you want the loan of a hundred pounds from any of them, keep dark about that; see as far ahead as you please, but it ain't always pleasant to have folks see too far back. Perhaps they be a little proud or so, but that's nateral; all folks that grow up right off, like a mushroom in one night, are apt to think no small beer of themselves. A cabbage has plaguy large leaves to the bottom, and spreads them out as wide as an old woman's petticoats, to hide the ground it sprung from, and conceal its extraction, but what's that to you? If they get too large salaries, dock 'em down at once, but don't keep talkin' about it for everlastinly. If you have too many sarvents, pay some on 'em off, or when they quit your sarvice don't hire others in their room, that's all; but you miss your mark when you keep firin' away at bankers, lawyers, and public officers, the whole blessed time that way.
”'I went out a-gunnin' once when I was a boy, and father went along with me to teach me. Well, the first flock of plover I seed I let slip at 'em, and missed 'em. Says father, says he, ”What a blockhead you be, Sam, that's your own fault, they were too far off; you hadn't ought to have fired so soon. At Bunker's hill we let the British come right on till we seed the whites of their eyes, and then we let 'em have it slap bang.” Well, I felt kinder grigged at missin' my shot, and I didn't over half like to be scolded too; so, says I, ”Yes, father; but recollect you had a mud bank to hide behind, where you were proper safe, and you had a rest for your guns too; but as soon as you seed a little more than the whites of their eyes, you run for dear life, full split; and so I don't see much to brag on in that arter all, so come now.” ”I'll teach you to talk that way, you puppy you,” said he, ”of that glorious day;” and he fetched me a wipe that I do believe if I hadn't a dodged, would have spoiled my gunnin' for that hitch; so I gave him a wide birth arter that all day. Well, the next time I missed, says I, ”She hung fire so everlastinly, it's no wonder;” and the next miss, says I, ”The powder is no good, I vow.”
Well, I missed every shot, and I had an excuse for every one on 'em--the flint was bad, or she flashed in the pan, or the shot scaled, or something or another; and when all wouldn't do, I swore the gun was no good at all. ”Now,” says father (and he edged up all the time, to pay me off for that hit at his Bunker hill story, which was the only shot I didn't miss), you hain't got the right reason arter all. It was your own fault, Sam.”
”'Now that's jist the case with you; you may blame Banks and Council, and House of a.s.sembly, and ”the great men,” till you are tired, but it's all your own fault--YOU'VE NO SPIRIT AND NO ENTERPRISE, YOU WANT INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY; USE THEM, AND YOU'LL SOON BE AS RICH AS THE PEOPLE AT HALIFAX YOU CALL GREAT FOLKS. They didn't grow rich by talkin', but by workin'; instead of lookin' after other folks'
business, they looked about the keenest arter their own. You are like the machinery of one of our boats--good enough, and strong enough, but of no airthly use till you get the steam up; you want to be set in motion, and then you'll go ahead like anything, you may depend.
Give up politics. It's a barren field, and well watched too; when one critter jumps a fence into a good field and gets fat, more nor twenty are chased round and round, by a whole pack of yelpin' curs, till they are fairly beat out, and eend by bein' half-starved, and are at the liftin' at last. Look to your farms, your water powers, your fisheries, and factories. In short,' says I, puttin' on my hat and startin', 'look to yourselves, and don't look to others.'”
No. XXII
A Cure for Conceit.
”It's a most curious, unaccountable thing, but it's a fact,” said the Clockmaker, ”the Bluenoses are so conceited, they think they know everything; and yet there ain't a livin' soul in Nova Scotia knows his own business real complete, farmer or fisherman, lawyer or doctor, or any other folk. A farmer said to me one day, up to Pugnose's inn at River Philip, 'Mr. Slick,' says he, 'I allot this ain't ”A BREAD COUNTRY;” I intend to sell off the house I improve, and go to the States.' 'If it ain't a bread country,' said I, 'I never seed one that was. There is more bread used here, made of best superfine flour, and No. 1 Genesssee, than in any other place of the same population in the univa.r.s.e. You might as well say it ain't a clock country, when, to my sartin knowledge, there are more clocks than bibles in it. I guess you expect to raise your bread ready made, don't you? Well there's only one cla.s.s of our free and enlightened citizens that can do that, and that's them that are born with silver spoons in their mouths. It's a pity you wasn't availed of this truth, afore you up killoch and off; take my advice and bide where you be.'
”Well, the fishermen are jist as bad. The next time you go into the fish market at Halifax, stump some of the old hands; says you 'how many fins has a cod, at a word?' and I'll liquidate the bet if you lose it. When I've been along-sh.o.r.e afore now, a-vendin'
of my clocks, and they began to raise my dander, by belittleing the Yankees, I always brought them up by a round turn by that requirement, 'How many fins has a cod, at a word.' Well, they never could answer it; and then, says I, 'When you larn your own business, I guess it will be time enough to teach other folks their'n.'
”How different it is with our men folk, if they can't get through a question, how beautifully they can go round it, can't they? Nothin'
never stops them. I had two brothers, Josiah and Eldad, one was a lawyer, and the other a doctor. They were a-talkin' about their examinations one night, at a huskin' frolic, up to Governor Ball's big stone barn at Slickville. Says Josy, 'When I was examined, the judge axed me all about real estate; and, says he, ”Josiah,” says he, ”what's a fee?” ”Why,” says I, ”Judge, it depends on the natur' of the case. In a common one,” says I, ”I call six dollars a pretty fair one; but lawyer Webster has got afore now, I've heerd tell, one thousand dollars, and that I DO CALL a fee.” Well, the judge he larfed ready to split his sides (thinks I, old chap, you'll bust like a steam b'iler, if you hain't got a safety valve somewhere or another), and says he, ”I vow that's superfine; I'll indorse your certificate for you, young man; there's no fear of you, you'll pa.s.s the inspection brand anyhow.”
”'Well,' says Eldad, 'I hope I may be skinned if the same thing didn't e'enamost happen to me at my examination. They axed me a 'nation sight of questions, some on 'em I could answer, and some on 'em no soul could, right off the reel at a word, without a little cipherin'; at last they axed me, ”How would you calculate to put a patient into a sweat, when common modes wouldn't work no how?” ”Why,”
says I, ”I'd do as Dr. Comfort Payne sarved father.” ”And how was that?” said they. ”Why,” says I, ”he put him into such a sweat as I never seed him in afore, in all my born days, since I was raised, by sending him in his bill, and if that didn't sweat him it's a pity; it was an ACTIVE dose you may depend.” ”I guess that 'ere chap has cut his eye-teeth,” said the President; ”let him pa.s.s as approbated.”'
”They both knowed well enough; they only made as if they didn't, to poke a little fun at them, for the Slick family were counted in a general way to be pretty considerable cute.
”They reckon themselves here a chalk above us Yankees, but I guess they have a wrinkle or two to grow afore they progress ahead on us yet. If they hain't got a full cargo of conceit here, then I never seed a load, that's all. They have the hold chock full, deck piled up to the pump handles, and scuppers under water. They larnt that of the British, who are actilly so full of it, they remind me of Commodore Trip. When he was about half-shaved he thought everybody drunk but himself. I never liked the last war, I thought it unnateral, and that we hadn't ought to have taken hold of it at all, and so most of our New England folks thought; and I wasn't sorry to hear Gineral Dearborne was beat, seein' we had no call to go into Canada. But when the Guerriere was captivated by our old Ironsides, the Const.i.tution, I did feel lifted up amost as high as a stalk of Varginny corn among Connecticut middlins; I grew two inches taller I vow, the night I heerd that news. Brag, says I, is a good dog, but Holdfast is better.
The British navals had been a-braggin' and a-hectorin' so long, that when they landed in our cities, they swaggered e'enamost as much as Uncle Peleg (big Peleg as he was called), and when he walked up the centre of one of our narrow Boston streets, he used to swing his arms on each side of him, so that folks had to clear out of both foot paths; he's cut, afore now, the fingers of both hands agin the shop windows on each side of the street. Many the poor feller's crupper bone he's smashed, with his great thick boots, a-throwin' out his feet afore him e'enamost out of sight, when he was in full rig a-swigglin' away at the top of his gait. Well, they cut as many s.h.i.+nes as Uncle Peleg. One frigate they guessed would captivate, sink, or burn our whole navy. Says a naval one day, to the skipper of a fis.h.i.+ng boat that he took, says he, 'Is it true Commodore Decatur's sword is made of an old iron hoop?' 'Well,' says the skipper, 'I'm not quite certified as to that, seein' as I never sot eyes on it; but I guess if he gets a chance he'll show you the temper of it some of these days, anyhow.'
”I mind once a British man-o'-war took one of our Boston vessels, and ordered all hands on board, and sent a party to skuttle her; well, they skuttled the fowls and the old particular genuine rum, but they obliviated their arrand and left her. Well, next day another frigate (for they were as thick as toads arter a rain) comes near her, and fires a shot for her to bring to. No answer was made, there bein' no livin' soul on board, and another shot fired, still no answer. 'Why what on airth is the meanin' of this,' said the Captain; 'why don't they haul down that d.a.m.n goose and gridiron?' (That's what he called our eagle and stars on the flag.) 'Why,' says the first leftenant, 'I guess they are all dead men, that shot frightened them to death.'
'They are afeared to show their noses,' says another, 'lest they should be shaved off by our shots.' 'They are all down below ”A-CALCULATIN'” their loss I guess,' says a third. 'I'll take my davy,' says the Captain, 'it's some Yankee trick--a torpedo in her bottom or some such trap; we'll let her be;' and sure enough, next day, back she came to sh.o.r.e of herself. 'I'll give you a quarter of an hour,' says the Captain of the Guerriere to his men, 'to take that 'ere Yankee frigate, the Const.i.tution.' I guess he found his mistake where he didn't expect it, without any great sarch for it either.
Yes (to eventuate my story), it did me good; I felt dreadful nice, I promise you. It was as lovely as bitters of a cold mornin'. Our folks beat 'em arter that so often, they got a little grain too much conceit also. They got their heels too high for their boots, and began to walk like uncle Peleg too, so that when the Chesapeake got whipped I warn't sorry. We could spare that one, and it made our navals look round, like a feller who gets a hoist, to see who's a-larfin' at him. It made 'em brush the dust off, and walk on rather sheepish. It cut their combs that's a fact. The war did us a plaguy sight of good in more ways than one, and it did the British some good too. It taught 'em not to carry their chins too high, for fear they shouldn't see the gutters--a mistake that's spoiled many a bran' new coat and trousers afore now.
”Well, these Bluenoses have caught this disease, as folks do the Scotch fiddle, by shakin' hands along with the British. Conceit has become here, as Doctor Rush says (you have heerd tell of him? he's the first man of the age, and it's generally allowed our doctors take the s.h.i.+ne off of all the world), acclimated; it is citizenized among 'em; and the only cure is a real good quiltin'. I met a first chop Colchester gag this summer a-goin' to the races to Halifax, and he knowed as much about racin', I do suppose, as a Choctaw Ingian does of a railroad. Well, he was a-praisin' of his horse, and runnin'
on like statiee. He was begot, he said, by Roncesvalles, which was better than any horse that ever was seen, because he was once in a duke's stable in England. It was only a man that had blood like a lord, said he, that knew what blood in a horse was. Captain Currycomb, an officer at Halifax, had seen his horse and praised him; and that was enough--that stamped him--that fixed his value. It was like the President's name to a bank note, it makes it pa.s.s current.
'Well,' says I, 'I hain't got a drop of blood in me, nothin' stronger than mola.s.ses and water, I vow, but I guess I know a horse when I see him for all that, and I don't think any great shakes of your beast, anyhow. What start will you give me,' says I, 'and I will run Old Clay agin you, for a mile lick right an eend.' 'Ten rods,' said he, 'for twenty dollars.' Well, we run, and I made Old Clay bite in his breath and only beat him by half a neck. 'A tight scratch,' says I, 'that, and it would have sarved me right if I had been beat. I had no business to run an old roadster so everlastin' fast, it ain't fair on him, is it?' Says he, 'I will double the bet and start even, and run you agin if you dare.' 'Well,' says I, 'since I won the last it wouldn't be pretty not to give you a chance; I do suppose I oughtn't to refuse, but I don't love to abuse my beast by knockin' him about this way.'
”As soon as the money was staked, I said, 'Hadn't we better,' says I, 'draw stakes? That 'ere blood horse of your'n has such uncommon particular bottom, he'll perhaps leave me clean out of sight.' 'No fear of that,' said he, larfin', 'but he'll beat you easy, anyhow. No flinchin',' says he, 'I'll not let you go back of the bargain. It's run or forfeit.' 'Well,' says I, 'friend, there is fear of it; your horse will leave me out of sight, to a sartainty, that's a fact, for he CAN'T KEEP UP TO ME NO TIME. I'll drop him, hull down, in tu tu's.' If Old Clay didn't make a fool of him, it's a pity. Didn't he gallop pretty, that's all? He walked away from him, jist as the Chancellor Livingston steamboat pa.s.ses a sloop at anchor in the north river. Says I, 'I told you your horse would beat me clean out of sight, but you wouldn't believe me; now,' says I, 'I will tell you something else. That 'ere horse will help, you to lose more money to Halifax than you are a-thinkin' on; for there ain't a beast gone down there that won't beat him. He can't run a bit, and you may tell the British Captain I say so. Take him home and sell him, buy a good yoke of oxen; they are fast enough for a farmer, and give up blood horses to them that can afford to keep stable helps to tend 'em, and leave bettin' alone to them, as has more money nor wit, and can afford to lose their cash, without thinkin' agin of their loss.' 'When I want your advice,' said he, 'I will ask it,' most peskily sulky. 'You might have got it before you axed for it,' said I, 'but not afore you wanted it, you may depend on it. But stop,' said I, 'let's see that all's right afore we part;' so I counts over the fifteen pounds I won of him, note by note, as slow as anything, on purpose to rile him; then I mounts Old Clay agin, and says I, 'Friend, you have considerably the advantage of me this. .h.i.tch, anyhow.' 'Possible!'
says he, 'how's that?' 'Why,' says I, 'I guess you'll return rather lighter than you came, and that's more nor I can say, anyhow;' and then I gave him a wink and a jupe of the head, as much as to say, 'do you take?' and rode on and left him starin' and scratchin' his head like a feller who's lost his road. If that citizen ain't a born fool, or too far gone in the disease, depend on't, he found 'A CURE FOR CONCEIT.'”