Part 14 (1/2)
”I guess I have, it ain't worth follerin' now.”
”Most time,” said the other, laughing, ”for by all accounts the clocks warn't worth havin', and most infarnal dear too, folks begin to get their eyes open.”
”It warn't needed in your case,” said Mr. Slick, with that peculiarly composed manner, that indicates suppressed feeling, ”for you were always wide awake; if all the folks had cut their eye-teeth as airly as you did, their'd be plaguy few clocks sold in these parts, I reckon; but you are right, Squire, you may say that, they actilly were NOT worth havin', and that's the truth. The fact is,” said he, throwing down his reins, and affecting a most confidential tone, ”I felt almost ashamed of them myself; I tell you. The long and short of the matter is jist this: they don't make no good ones nowadays, no more, for they calculate 'em for s.h.i.+ppin' and not for home use. I was all struck up of a heap when I seed the last lot I got from the States; I was properly bit by them, you may depend--they didn't pay cost, for I couldn't recommend them with a clear conscience, and I must say I do like a fair deal, for I'm strait up and down, and love to go right ahead, that's a fact. Did you ever see them I fetched when I first came, them I sold over the Bay?”
”No,” said Mr. Allen, ”I can't say I did.”
”Well,” continued he, ”they WERE a prime article, I tell you, no mistake there, fit for any market, it's generally allowed there ain't the beat of them to be found anywhere. If you want a clock, and can lay your hands on one of them, I advise you not to let go the chance; you'll know 'em by the 'Lowell' mark, for they were all made at Judge Beler's factory, Squire Shepody, down to Five Islands, axed me to get him one, and a special job I had of it, near about more sarch arter it than it was worth; but I did get him one, and a particular handsome one it is, copal'd and gilt superior. I guess it's worth ary half dozen in these parts, let t'others be where they may. If I could a got supplied with the like o' them, I could a made a grand spec out of them, for they took at once, and went off quick.”
”Have you got it with you?” said Mr. Allen, ”I should like to see it.”
”Yes, I have it here, all done up in tow, as snug as a bird's egg, to keep it from jarrin', for it hurts 'em consumedly to jolt 'em over them 'ere etarnal wooden bridges. But it's no use to take it out, it ain't for sale; it's bespoke, and I wouldn't take the same trouble to get another for twenty dollars. The only one that I know of that there's any chance of gettin', is one that Increase Crane has up to Wilmot, they say he's a-sellin' off.”
After a good deal of persuasion, Mr. Slick unpacked the clock, but protested against his asking for it, for it was not for sale. It was then exhibited, every part explained and praised, as new in invention and perfect in workmans.h.i.+p. Now Mr. Allen had a very exalted opinion of Squire Shepody's taste, judgment, and saving knowledge; and, as it was the last and only chance of getting a clock of such superior quality, he offered to take it at the price the Squire was to have it, at seven pounds ten s.h.i.+llings. But Mr. Slick vowed he couldn't part with it at no rate, he didn't know where he could get the like agin (for he warn't quite sure about Increase Crane's), and the Squire would be confounded disappointed; he couldn't think of it.
In proportion to the difficulties, rose the ardour of Mr. Allen; his offers advanced to eight pounds, to eight pounds ten s.h.i.+llings, to nine pounds.
”I vow,” said Mr. Slick, ”I wish I hadn't let on that I had it at all. I don't like to refuse you, but where am I to get the like?”
After much discussion of a similar nature, he consented to part with the clock, though with great apparent reluctance, and pocketed the money with a protest that, cost what it would, he should have to procure another, for he couldn't think of putting the Squire's pipe out arter that fas.h.i.+on, for he was a very clever man, and as fair as a boot jack.
”Now,” said Mr. Slick, as we proceeded on our way, ”that 'ere feller is properly sarved, he got the most inferior article I had, and I jist doubled the price on him. It's a pity he should be a-tellin' of lies of the Yankees all the time; this will help him now to a little grain of truth.” Then mimicking his voice and manner, he repeated Allen's words with a strong nasal tw.a.n.g, ”'Most time for you to give over the clock trade, I guess, for by all accounts they ain't worth havin', and most infarnel dear too; folks begin to get their eyes open.' Better for you, if you'd a had your'n open, I reckon; a joke is a joke, but I consait you'll find that no joke. The next time you tell stories about Yankee peddlers, put the wooden clock in with the wooden punkin seeds, and hickory hams, will you? The Bluenoses, Squire, are all like Zeb Allen; they think they know everything, but they get gulled from year's eend to year's eend. They expect too much from others, and do too little for themselves. They actilly expect the sun to s.h.i.+ne, and the rain to fall, through their little House of a.s.sembly. 'What have you done for us?' they keep axin' their members.
'Who did you s.p.u.n.k up to last Session?' jist as if all legislation consisted in attackin' some half dozen puss proud folks at Halifax, who are jist as big noodles as they be themselves. You hear nothin'
but politics, politics, politics, one everlastin' sound of give, give, give. If I was Governor I'd give 'em the b.u.t.t eend of my mind on the subject, I'd crack their pates till I let some light in 'em, if it was me, I know. I'd say to the members, don't come down here to Halifax with your long lockrums about politics, makin', a great touss about nothin'; but open the country, foster agricultur', encourage trade, incorporate companies, make bridges, facilitate conveyance, and above all things make a railroad from Windsor to Halifax; and mind what I tell you now--write it down for fear you should forget it, for it's a fact; and if you don't believe me, I'll lick you till you do, for there ain't a word of a lie in it, by gum--ONE SUCH WORK AS THE WINDSOR BRIDGE IS WORTH ALL YOUR LAWS, VOTES, SPEECHES AND RESOLUTIONS, FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS, IF TIED UP AND PUT INTO A MEAL BAG TOGETHER. IF IT AIN'T, I HOPE I MAY BE SHOT!”
No. x.x.xII
Too many Irons in the Fire.
We had a pleasant sail of three hours from Parrsboro' to Windsor. The arrivals and departures by water, are regulated at this place by the tide, and it was sunset before we reached Mrs. Wilc.o.x's comfortable inn. Here, as at other places, Mr. Slick seemed to be perfectly at home; and he pointed to a wooden clock, as a proof of his successful and extended trade, and of the universal influence of ”soft sawder,”
and a knowledge of ”human natur'.” Taking out a pen knife, he cut off a splinter from a stick of firewood, and balancing himself on one leg of his chair, by the aid of his right foot, commenced his favourite amus.e.m.e.nt of whitling, which he generally pursued in silence. Indeed it appeared to have become with him an indispensible accompaniment of reflection.
He sat in this abstracted manner, until he had manufactured into delicate shavings the whole of his raw materiel, when he very deliberately resumed a position of more ease and security, by resting his chair on two legs instead of one, and putting both his feet on the mantel piece. Then, lighting his cigar, he said in his usual quiet manner--
”There's a plaguy sight of truth in them 'ere old proverbs. They are distilled facts steamed down to an essence. They are like portable soup, an amazin' deal of matter in a small compa.s.s. They are what I vally most, experience. Father used to say, 'I'd as lives have an old homespun, self-taught doctor as ary a Professor in the college at Philadelphia or New York to attend me; for what they do know, they know by experience, and not by books; and experience is everything, it's hearin' and seein' and tryin', and arter that a feller must be a born fool if he don't know. That's the beauty of old proverbs; they are as true as a plum line, and as short and sweet as sugar candy.
Now when you come to see all about this country you'll find the truth of that 'ere one--'A MAN THAT HAS TOO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE, IS PLAGUY APT TO GET SOME ON 'EM BURNT.'
”Do you recollect that 'ere tree I show'd you to Parrsboro', it was all covered with black k.n.o.bs, like a wart rubbed with caustic. Well, the plum trees had the same disease a few years ago, and they all died, and the cherry trees I consait will go for it too. The farms here are all covered with the same 'black k.n.o.bs,' and they do look like Old Scratch. If you see a place all gone to wrack and ruin, its mortgaged you may depend. The 'black k.n.o.b' is on it. My plan, you know, is to ax leave to put a clock in a house, and let it be till I return. I never say a word about sellin' it, for I know when I come back, they won't let it go arter they are once used to it. Well, when I first came, I knowed no one, and I was forced to enquire whether a man was good for it, afore I left it with him; so I made a p'int of axin' all about every man's place that lived on the road. 'Who lives up there in the big house?' says I, 'it's a nice location that, pretty considerable improvements them.' 'Why sir, that's A. B.'s; he was well to do in the world once, carried a stiff upper lip and keerd for no one; he was one of our grand aristocrats, wore a long tailed coat, and a ruffled s.h.i.+rt, but he must take to s.h.i.+p buildin', and has gone to the dogs.' 'Oh,' said I, 'too many irons in the fire.
Well, the next farm, where the pigs are in the potato field, whose is that?' 'Oh, sir, that's C. D's; he was a considerable fore-handed farmer, as any in our place, but he sot up for an a.s.sembly-man, and opened a store, and things went agin him somehow; he had no luck arterwards. I hear his place is mortgaged, and they've got him cited in chancery.' 'The black k.n.o.b' is on him, said I. 'The black what, sir?' says Bluenose. 'Nothin',' says I. 'But the next, who improves that house?' 'Why that's E. F.'s; he was the greatest farmer in these parts, another of the aristocracy; had a most a n.o.ble stock o'
cattle, and the matter of some hundreds out in j'int notes. Well, he took the contract for beef with the troops; and he fell astarn, so I guess it's a gone goose with him. He's heavy mortgaged.' 'Too many irons agin,' said I. 'Who lives to the left there? That man has a most a special fine interval, and a grand orchard too; he must be a good mark, that.' 'Well he was once, sir, a few years ago; but he built a fullin' mill, and a cardin' mill, and put up a lumber establishment, and speculated in the West Indy line; but the dam was carried away by the freshets, the lumber fell, and faith he fell too; he's shot up, he hain't been seed these two years, his farm is a common, and fairly run out.' 'Oh,' said I, 'I understand now, my man; these folks had too many irons in the fire you see, and some on 'em have got burnt.' 'I never heerd tell of it,' says Bluenose; 'they might, but not to my knowledge;' and he scratched his head, and looked as if he would ask the meanin' of it, but didn't like too.
Arter that I axed no more questions; I knew a mortgaged farm as far as I could see it. There was a strong family likeness in 'em all--the same ugly features, the same cast o' countenance. The ”black k.n.o.b”
was discernible, there was no mistake: barn doors broken off, fences burnt up, gla.s.s out of windows; more white crops than green, and both lookin' poor and weedy; no wood pile, no sa.r.s.e garden, no compost, no stock; moss in the mowin lands, thistles in the ploughed lands, and neglect every where; skinnin' had commenced--takin' all out and puttin' nothin' in--gittin' ready for a move, SO AS TO HAVE NOTHIN'
BEHIND. Flittin' time had come. Foregatherin', for foreclosin'.
Preparin' to curse and quit. That beautiful river we came up today, What superfine farms it has on both sides of it, hain't it? it's a sight to behold. Our folks have no notion of such a country so far down east, beyond creation most, as Nova Scotia is. If I was to draw up an account of it for the Slickville Gazette, I guess few would accept it as a bona fide draft, without some 'sponsible man to indorse it, that warn't given to flammin'. They'd say there was a land speculation to the bottom of it, or water privilege to put into the market, or a plaister rock to get off, or some such scheme. They would, I snore. But I hope I may never see daylight agin, if there's sich a country in all our great nation, as the VI-cinity of Windsor.
”Now it's jist as like as not, some goney of a Bluenose, that seed us from his fields, sailin' up full split, with a fair wind on the packet, went right off home and said to his wife, 'Now do for gracious' sake, mother, jist look here, and see how slick them folks go along; and that captain has nothin' to do all day, but sit straddle legs across his tiller, and order about his sailors, or talk like a gentleman to his pa.s.sengers; he's got most as easy a time of it as Ami Cuttle has, since he took up the fur trade, a-snarin'
rabbits. I guess I'll buy a vessel, and leave the lads to do the ploughin' and little ch.o.r.es; they've growed up now to be considerable lumps of boys.' Well, away he'll go, hot foot (for I know the critters better nor they know themselves), and he'll go and buy some old wrack of a vessel, to carry plaister, and mortgage his farm to pay for her. The vessel will jam him up tight for repairs and new riggin', and the sheriff will soon pay him a visit (and he's a most particular troublesome visitor that; if he once only gets a slight how-d'ye-do acquaintance, he becomes so amazin' intimate arterwards, a-comin' in without knockin', and a-runnin' in and out at all hours, and makin' so plaguy free and easy, it's about as much as a bargain if you can get clear of him afterwards). Benipt by the tide, and benipt by the sheriff, the vessel makes short work with him. Well, the upshot is, the farm gets neglected while Captain Cuddy is to sea a-drogin' of plaister. The thistles run over his grain fields, his cattle run over his hay land, the interest runs over its time, the mortgage runs over all, and at last he jist runs over to the lines to Eastport, himself. And when he finds himself there, a-standin' in the street, near Major Pine's tavern, with his hands in his trouser pockets, a-chasin' of a stray s.h.i.+llin' from one eend of 'em to another, afore he can catch it to swap for a dinner, won't he look like a ravin' distracted fool, that's all? He'll feel about as streaked as I did once, a-ridin' down the St. John river. It was the fore part of March--I'd been up to Fredericton a-speculatin' in a small matter of lumber, and was returnin' to the city, a-gallopin'