"So am I," said she, "but if Mr. Pugwash will keep an inn when he has no occasion to, his family can't expect no rest."

Here the Clockmaker, seeing the storm gathering, stooped down suddenly, and staring intently, held out his hand and exclaimed, "Well if that ain't a beautiful child! Come here, my little man and shake hands along with me; well, I declare if that 'ere little feller ain't the finest child I ever seed! What, not abed yet? Ah, you rogue, where did you get them 'ere pretty rosy cheeks; stole 'em from mamma, eh? Well, I wish my old mother could see that child, it is such a treat. In our country," said he, turning to me, "the children are all as pale as chalk, or as yeller as an orange. Lord, that 'ere little feller would be a show in our country—come to me my man." Here the "soft sawder" began to operate. Mrs. Pugwash said in a milder tone than we had yet heard, "Go, my dear to the gentleman; go, dear." Mr. Slick kissed him, asked him if he would go to the States along with him, told him all the little girls there would fall in love with him, for they didn't see such a beautiful face once in a month of Sundays. "Black eyes—let me see—ah mamma's eyes too, and black hair also; as I am alive, why you are mamma's own boy—the very image of mamma."

"Do be seated, gentlemen," said Mrs. Pugwash. "Sally make a fire in the next room."

"She ought to be proud of you," he continued. "Well, if I live to return here, I must paint your face, and have it put on my clocks, and our folks will buy the clocks for the sake of the face. Did you ever see," said he, again addressing me, "such a likeness between one human and another, as between this beautiful little boy and his mother?"

"I am sure you have had no supper," said Mrs. Pugwash to me; "you must be hungry and weary, too—I will get you a cup of tea."

"I am sorry to give you so much trouble," said I.

"Not the least trouble in the world," she replied, "on the contrary a pleasure."

We were then shown into the next room, where the fire was now blazing up, but Mr. Slick protested he could not proceed without the little boy, and lingered behind me to ascertain his age, and concluded by asking the child if he had any aunts that looked like mamma.

As the door closed, Mr. Slick said, "It's a pity she don't go well in gear. The difficulty with those critters is to get them to start, arter that there is no trouble with them if you don't check 'em too short. If you do, they'll stop again, run back and kick like mad, and then Old Nick himself wouldn't start 'em. Pugwash, I guess, don't understand the natur' of the critter; she'll never go kind in harness for him. When I see a child," said the Clockmaker, "I always feel safe with these women folk; for I have always found that the road to a woman's heart lies through her child."

"You seem," said I, "to understand the female heart so well, I make no doubt you are a general favourite among the fair sex."

"Any man," he replied, "that understands horses, has a pretty considerable fair knowledge of women too, for they are jist alike in temper, and require the very identical same treatment. Encourage the timid ones, be gentle and steady with the fractious, but lather the sulky ones like blazes.

"People talk an everlastin' sight of nonsense about wine, women and horses. I've bought and sold 'em all, I've traded in all of them, and I tell you, there ain't one in a thousand that knows a grain about either on 'em. You hear folks say, oh, such a man is an ugly-grained critter—he'll break his wife's heart; jist as if a woman's heart was as brittle as a pipe stalk. The female heart, as far as my experience goes, is jist like a new India rubber shoe; you may pull and pull at it, till it stretches out a yard long, and then let go, and it will fly right back to its old shape. Their hearts are made of stout leather, I tell you; there's a plaguy sight of wear in 'em.

"I never knowed but one case of a broken heart, and that was in t'other sex, one Washington Banks. He was a sneezer. He was tall enough to spit down on the heads of your grenadiers, and near about high enough to wade across Charlestown River, and as strong as a towboat. I guess he was somewhat less than a foot longer than the moral law and catechism too. He was a perfect pictur' of a man; you couldn't falt him in no particular; he was so just a made critter; folks used to run to the winder when he passed, and say 'There goes Washington Banks, bean't he lovely?' I do believe there wasn't a gal in the Lowell factories, that warn't in love with him. Sometimes, at intermission, on Sabbath day, when they all came out together (an amazin' hansom sight too, near about a whole congregation of young gals), Banks used to say, 'I vow, young ladies, I wish I had five hundred arms to reciprocate one with each of you; but I reckon I have a heart big enough for you all; it's a whapper, you may depend, and every mite and morsel of it at your service.' Well, how you do act, Mr. Banks, half a thousand little clipper-clapper tongues would say, all at the same time, and their dear little eyes sparklin', like so many stars twinklin' of a frosty night.

"Well, when I last seed him, he was all skin and bone, like a horse turned out to die. He was teetotally defleshed, a mere walkin' skeleton. 'I am dreadful sorry,' says I, 'to see you, Banks, lookin' so peecked; why you look like a sick turkey hen, all legs; what on airth ails you?' 'I'm dyin',' says he, 'of a broken heart.' 'What,' says I, 'have the gals been jiltin' you?' 'No, no,' says he, 'I bean't such a fool as that neither.' 'Well,' says I, 'have you made a bad speculation?' 'No,' says he, shakin' his head, 'I hope I have too much clear grit in me to take on so bad for that.' 'What under the sun, is it, then?' said I. 'Why,' says he, 'I made a bet the fore part of summer with Leftenant Oby Knowles, that I could shoulder the best bower of the Constitution frigate. I won my bet, but the Anchor was so eternal heavy it broke my heart.' Sure enough he did die that very fall, and he was the only instance I ever heerd tell of a broken heart."



No. XI

Cumberland Oysters Produce Melancholy Forebodings.

The "soft sawder" of the Clockmaker had operated effectually on the beauty of Amherst, our lovely hostess of Pugwash's inn: indeed, I am inclined to think, with Mr. Slick, that "the road to a woman's heart lies through her child," from the effect produced upon her by the praises bestowed on her infant boy.

I was musing on this feminine susceptibility to flattery, when the door opened, and Mrs. Pugwash entered, dressed in her sweetest smiles and her best cap, an auxiliary by no means required by her charms, which, like an Italian sky, when unclouded, are unrivalled in splendour. Approaching me, she said, with an irresistible smile, "Would you like Mr. —-" (Here there was a pause, a hiatus, evidently intended for me to fill up with my name; but that no person knows, nor do I intend they shall; at Medley's Hotel, in Halifax, I was known as the stranger in No. 1. The attention that incognito procured for me, the importance it gave me in the eyes of the master of the house, its lodgers and servants, is indescribable. It is only great people who travel incog. State travelling is inconvenient and slow; the constant weight of form and etiquette oppresses at once the strength and the spirits. It is pleasant to travel unobserved, to stand at ease, or exchange the full suit for the undress coat and fatigue jacket. Wherever too there is mystery there is importance; there is no knowing for whom I may be mistaken; but let me once give my humble cognomen and occupation, and I sink immediately to my own level, to a plebeian station and a vulgar name; not even my beautiful hostess, nor my inquisitive friend, the Clockmaker, who calls me "Squire," shall extract that secret!) "Would you like, Mr. —-"

"Indeed, I would," said I, "Mrs. Pugwash; pray be seated, and tell me what it is."

"Would you like a dish of superior Shittyacks for supper?"

"Indeed I would," said I, again laughing; "but pray tell me what it is?"

"Laws me!" said she with a stare, "where have you been all your days, that you never heerd of our Shittyack oysters? I thought everybody had heerd of them."

"I beg pardon," said I, "but I understood at Halifax, that the only oysters in this part of the world were found on the shores of Prince Edward Island."

"Oh! dear no," said our hostess, "they are found all along the coast from Shittyack, through Bay of Vartes, away up to Ramshag. The latter we seldom get, though the best; there is no regular conveyance, and when they do come, they are generally shelled and in kegs, and never in good order. I have not had a real good Ramshag in my house these two years, since Governor Maitland was here; he was amazin' fond of them, and lawyer Talkemdeaf sent his carriage there on purpose to procure them fresh for him. Now we can't get them, but we have the Shittyacks in perfection; say the word, and they shall be served up immediately."

A good dish and an unexpected dish is most acceptable, and certainly my American friend and myself did ample justice to the oysters, which, if they have not so classical a name, have quite as good a flavour as their far famed brethren of Milton. Mr. Slick ate so heartily, that when he resumed his conversation, he indulged in the most melancholy forebodings.

"Did you see that 'ere nigger," said he, "that removed the oyster shells? well, he's one of our Chesapickers, one of General Cuffy's slaves. I wish Admiral Cockburn had a taken them all off our hands at the same time. We made a pretty good sale of them 'ere black cattle, I guess, to the British; I wish we were well rid of 'em all. The blacks and the whites in the States show their teeth and snarl, they are jist ready to fall to. The Protestants and Catholics begin to lay back their ears, and turn tail for kickin'. The Abolitionists and Planters are at it like two bulls in a pastur'. Mob-law and Lynch-law are working like yeast in a barrel, and frothing at the bung hole. Nullification and Tariff are like a charcoal pit, all covered up, but burning inside, and sending out smoke at every crack, enough to stifle a horse. General Government and State Government every now and then square off and sparr, and the first blow given will bring a genuine set-to. Surplus Revenue is another bone of contention; like a shin of beef thrown among a pack of dogs, it will set the whole on 'em by the ears.

"You have heerd tell of cotton rags dipped in turpentine, havn't you, how they produce combustion? Well, I guess we have the elements of spontaneous combustion among us in abundance; when it does break out, if you don't see an eruption of human gore, worse than Etna lava, then I'm mistaken. There'll be the very devil to pay, that's a fact. I expect the blacks will butcher the Southern whites, and the Northerners will have to turn out and butcher them again; and all this shoot, hang, cut, stab, and burn business will sweeten our folks' temper, as raw meat does that of a dog—it fairly makes me sick to think on it. The explosion may clear the air again, and all be tranquil once more, but it's an even chance if it don't leave us the three steamboat options: to be blown sky high, to be scalded to death, or drowned."

"If this sad picture you have drawn be indeed true to nature, how does your country," said I, "appear so attractive, as to draw to it so large a portion of our population?"

"It ain't its attraction," said the Clockmaker; "it's nothin' but its power of suction; it is a great whirlpool—a great vortex—it drags all the straw and chips, and floatin' sticks, drift-wood and trash into it. The small crafts are sucked in, and whirl round and round like a squirrel in a cage—they'll never come out. Bigger ones pass through at certain times of tide, and can come in and out with good pilotage, as they do at Hell Gate up the Sound."

"You astonish me," said I, "beyond measure; both your previous conversations with me, and the concurrent testimony of all my friends who have visited the States, give a different view of it."

"YOUR FRIENDS!" said the Clockmaker, with such a tone of ineffable contempt, that I felt a strong inclination to knock him down for his insolence, "your friends! Ensigns and leftenants, I guess, from the British marchin' regiments in the Colonies, that run over five thousand miles of country in five weeks, on leave of absence, and then return, lookin' as wise as the monkey that had seen the world. When they get back they are so chock full of knowledge of the Yankees, that it runs over of itself, like a Hogshead of molasses rolled about in hot weather—a white froth and scum bubbles out of the bung; wishy-washy trash they call tours, sketches, travels, letters, and what not; vapid stuff, jist sweet enough to catch flies, cockroaches, and half-fledged gals. It puts me in mind of my French. I larnt French at night school one winter, of our minister, Joshua Hopewell (he was the most larned man of the age, for he taught himself e'enamost every language in Europe); well, next spring, when I went to Boston, I met a Frenchman, and I began to jabber away French to him: 'Polly woes a french say,' says I. 'I don't understand Yankee yet,' says he. 'You don't understand!' says I, 'why it's French. I guess you didn't expect to hear such good French, did you, away down east here? But we speak it real well, and it's generally allowed we speak English, too, better than the British.' 'Oh,' says he, 'you one very droll Yankee, dat very good joke, Sare; you talk Indian and call it French.' 'But,' says I, 'Mister Mount shear; it is French, I vow; real merchantable, without wainy edge or shakes—all clear stuff; it will pass survey in any market—it's ready stuck and seasoned.' 'Oh, very like,' says he, bowin' as polite as a black waiter at New OrLEENS, 'very like, only I never heerd it afore; oh, very good French dat—CLEAR STUFF, no doubt, but I no understand—it's all my fault, I dare say, Sare.'

"Thinks I to myself, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse. I see how the cat jumps—Minister knows so many languages he hain't been particular enough to keep 'em in separate parcels and mark 'em on the back, and they've got mixed, and sure enough I found my French was so overrun with other sorts, that it was better to lose the whole crop than to go to weedin', for as fast as I pulled up any strange seedlin', it would grow right up agin as quick as wink, if there was the least bit of root in the world left in the ground, so I let it all rot on the field.

"There is no way so good to larn French as to live among 'em, and if you WANT TO UNDERSTAND US, YOU MUST LIVE AMONG US, TOO; your Halls, Hamiltons, and De Rouses, and such critters, what can they know of us? Can a chap catch a likeness flyin' along a railroad? Can he even see the feature? Old Admiral Anson once axed one of our folks afore our glorious Revolution (if the British had a known us a little grain better at that time, they wouldn't have got whipped like a sack as they did then), where he came from. 'From the Chesapeeke,' said he. 'Aye, aye,' said the Admiral, 'from the West Indies.' 'I guess,' said the Southaner, 'you may have been clean round the world, Admiral, but you have been plaguy little in it, not to know better nor that.'

"I shot a wild goose at River Philip last year, with the rice of Varginny fresh in his crop; he must have cracked on near about as fast as them other geese, the British travellers. Which know'd the most of the country they passed over, do you suppose? I guess it was much of a muchness—near about six of one and a half dozen of t'other; two eyes ain't much better than one, if they are both blind.

"No, if you want to know all about us and the Bluenoses (a pretty considerable share of Yankee blood in them too, I tell you; the old stock comes from New England, and the breed is tolerable pure yet, near about one half apple sarce, and t'other half molasses, all except to the East'ard, where there is a cross of the Scotch), jist ax me and I'll tell you candidly. I'm not one of them that can't see no good points in my neighbour's critter, and no bad ones in my own; I've seen too much of the world for that, I guess. Indeed, in a general way, I praise other folks' beasts, and keep dark about my own. Says I, when I meet Bluenose mounted, 'that's a real smart horse of your'n, put him out, I guess he'll trot like mad.' Well, he lets him have the spur, and the critter does his best, and then I pass him like a streak of lightning with mine. The feller looks all taken aback at that. 'Why,' says he, 'that's a real clipper of your'n, I vow.' 'Middlin',' says I (quite cool, as if I had heard that 'ere same thing a thousand times), 'he's good enough for me, jist a fair trotter, and nothin' to brag of. That goes near about as far agin in a general way, as a crackin' and a boastin' does. Never TELL folks you can go a head on 'em, but DO it; it spares a great deal of talk, and helps them to save their breath to cool their broth.

"No, if you want to know the inns and the outs of the Yankees—I've wintered them and summered them; I know all their points, shape, make and breed; I've tried 'em alongside of other folks, and I know where they fall short, where they mate 'em, and where they have the advantage, about as well as some who think they know a plaguy sight more. It ain't them that stare the most, that see the best always, I guess. Our folks have their faults, and I know them (I warn't born blind, I reckon), but your friends, the tour writers, are a little grain too hard on us. Our old nigger wench had several dirty, ugly-lookin' children, and was proper cross to 'em. Mother used to say, 'Juno, it's better never to wipe a child's nose at all, I guess, than to wring it off.'"



No. XII

The American Eagle.

"Jist look out of the door," said the Clockmaker, "and see what a beautiful night it is, how calm, how still, how clear it is; bean't it lovely? I like to look up at them 'ere stars, when I am away from home; they put me in mind of our national flag, and it is generally allowed to be the first flag in the univarse now. The British can whip all the world, and we can whip the British. It's near about the prettiest sight I know of, is one of our first class Frigates, manned with our free and enlightened citizens all ready for sea; it's like the great American Eagle, on its perch, balancing itself for a start on the broad expanse of blue sky, afeared of nothin' of its kind, and president of all it surveys. It was a good emblem that we chose, warn't it?"

There was no evading so direct, and at the same time, so conceited an appeal as this. "Certainly," said I, "the emblem was well chosen. I was particularly struck with it on observing the device on your naval buttons during the last war—an eagle with an anchor in its claws. That was a natural idea, taken from an ordinary occurrence: a bird purloining the anchor of a frigate—an article so useful and necessary for the food of its young. It was well chosen, and exhibited great taste and judgment in the artist. The emblem is more appropriate than you are aware of—boasting of what you cannot perform—grasping at what you cannot attain—an emblem of arrogance and weakness—of ill-directed ambition and vulgar pretension."

"It's a common phrase," said he with great composure, "among seamen, to say 'Damn your buttons,' and I guess it's natural for you to say so of the buttons of our navals; I guess you have a right to that 'ere oath. It's a sore subject, that, I reckon, and I believe I hadn't ought to have spoken of it to you at all. Brag is a good dog, but hold fast is a better one."

He was evidently annoyed, and with his usual dexterity gave vent to his feelings by a sally upon the Bluenoses, who he says are a cross of English and Yankee, and therefore first cousins to us both. "Perhaps," said he, "that 'ere Eagle might with more propriety have been taken off as perched on an anchor, instead of holding it in his claws, and I think it would have been more nateral; but I suppose it was some stupid foreign artist that made that 'ere blunder, I never seed one yet that was equal to our'n. If that Eagle is represented as trying what he can't do, it's an honourable ambition arter all, but these Bluenoses won't try what they can do. They put me in mind of a great big hulk of a horse in a cart, that won't put his shoulder to the collar at all for all the lambastin' in the world, but turns his head round and looks at you, as much as to say, 'what an everlastin' heavy thing an empty cart is, isnt it?' An Owl should be their emblem, and the motto, 'He sleeps all the days of his life.' The whole country is like this night; beautiful to look at, but silent as the grave—still as death, asleep, becalmed.

"If the sea was always calm," said he, "it would pyson the univarse; no soul could breathe the air, it would be so uncommon bad. Stagnant water is always unpleasant, but salt water when it gets tainted beats all natur'; motion keeps it sweet and wholesome, and that our minister used to say is one of the 'wonders of the great deep.' This province is stagnant; it ain't deep like still water neither, for it's shaller enough, gracious knows, but it is motionless, noiseless, lifeless. If you have ever been to sea, in a calm, you'd know what a plaguy tiresome thing it is for a man that's in a hurry. An everlastin' flappin' of the sails, and a creakin' of the boombs, and an onsteady pitchin' of the ship, and folks lyin' about dozin' away their time, and the sea a-heavin' a long heavy swell, like the breathin' of the chist of some great monster asleep. A passenger wonders the sailors are so plagy easy about it, and he goes a-lookin' out east, and a-spyin' out west, to see if there's any chance of a breeze, and says to himself 'Well, if this ain't dull music it's a pity.' Then how streaked he feels when he sees a steamboat a-clippin' it by him like mad, and the folks on board pokin' fun at him, and askin' him if he has any word to send to home. 'Well,' he says, 'if any soul ever catches me on board a sail vessel again, when I can go by steam, I'll give him leave to tell me of it, that's a fact.'

"That's partly the case here. They are becalmed, and they see us going ahead on them, till we are e'enamost clean out of sight; yet they hain't got a steamboat, and they hain't got a railroad; indeed, I doubt if one half on 'em ever seed or heerd tell of one or t'other of them. I never seed any folks like 'em except the Indians, and they won't even so much as look—they havn't the least morsel of curiosity in the world; from which one of our Unitarian preachers (they are dreadful hands at DOUBTIN' them. I don't DOUBT but some day or another, they will DOUBT whether everything ain't a DOUBT), in a very learned work, doubts whether they were ever descended from Eve at all. Old marm Eve's children, he says, are all lost, it is said, in consequence of TOO MUCH curiosity, while these copper coloured folks are lost from havin' TOO LITTLE little. How can they be the same? Thinks I, that may be logic, old Dubersome, but it ain't sense, don't extremes meet? Now these Bluenoses have no motion in 'em, no enterprise, no spirit, and if any critter shows any symptoms of activity, they say he is a man of no judgment, he's speculative, he's a schemer, in short he's mad. They vegitate like a lettuce plant in sarse garden, they grow tall and, spindlin', run to seed right off, grow as bitter as gaul and die."

"A gal once came to our minister to hire as a house-help; says she, 'Minister, I suppose you don't want a young lady to do chamber business and breed worms do you? For I've half a mind to take a spell of livin' out.' She meant," said the Clockmaker, "house work and rearing silk-worms. 'My pretty maiden,' says he, a-pattin' her on the cheek (for I've often observed old men always talk kinder pleasant to young women), 'my pretty maiden where was you brought up?' 'Why,' says she, 'I guess I warn't brought up at all, I growed up.' 'Under what platform,' says he (for he was very particular that all his house-helps should go to his meetin'), 'under what Church platform?' 'Church platform!' says she, with a toss of her head, like a young colt that's got a check of the curb, 'I guess I warn't raised under a platform at all, but in as good a house as your'n, grand as you be.' 'You said well,' said the old minister, quite shocked, 'when you said you growed up, dear, for you have grown up in great ignorance.' 'Then I guess you had better get a lady that knows more than me,' says she, 'that's flat. I reckon I am every bit and grain as good as you be. If I don't understand a bum-byx (silk-worm), both feedin', breedin', and rearin', then I want to know who does, that's all; church platform indeed!' says she; 'I guess you were raised under a glass frame in March, and transplanted on Independence day, warn't you?' And off she sot, lookin' as scorney as a London lady, and leavin' the poor minister standin' starin' like a stuck pig. 'Well, well,' says he, a-liftin' up both hands, and turnin' up the whites of his eyes like a duck in thunder, 'if that don't bang the bush! It fearly beats sheep shearin' arter the blackberry bushes have got the wool. It does, I vow; them are the tares them Unitarians sow in our grain fields at night; I guess they'll ruinate the crops yet, and make the grounds so everlastin' foul; we'll have to pare the sod and burn it, to kill the roots. Our fathers sowed the right seed here in the wilderness, and watered it with their tears, and watched over it with fastin' and prayer, and now it's fairly run out, that's a fact, I snore. It's got choked up with all sorts of trash in, natur', I declare. Dear, dear, I vow I never seed the beat o' that in all my born days.'

"Now the Bluenoses are like that 'ere gal; they have grown up, and grown up in ignorance of many things they hadn't ought not to know; and it's as hard to teach grown-up folks as it is to break a six-year-old horse; and they do rile one's temper so—they act so ugly that it tempts one sometimes to break their confounded necks; it's near about as much trouble as it's worth."

"What remedy is there for all this supineness," said I; "how can these people be awakened out of their ignorant slothfulness, into active exertion?"

"The remedy," said Mr. Slick, "is at hand—it is already workin' its own cure. They must recede before our free and enlightened citizens like the Indians; our folks will buy them out, and they must give place to a more intelligent and ac-TIVE people. They must go to the lands of Labrador, or be located back of Canada; they can hold on there a few years, until the wave of civilization reaches them, and then they must move again, as the savages do. It is decreed; I hear the bugle of destiny a-soundin' of their retreat, as plain as anything. Congress will give them a concession of land, if they petition, away to Alleghany's backside territory, and grant them relief for a few years; for we are out of debt, and don't know what to do with our surplus revenue. The only way to shame them, that I know, would be to sarve them as Uncle Enoch sarved a neighbour of his in Varginny.

"There was a lady that had a plantation near hand to his'n, and there was only a small river atwixt the two houses, so that folks could hear each other talk across it. Well, she was a dreadful cross-grained woman, a real catamount, as savage as a she bear that has cubs, an old farrow critter, as ugly as sin, and one that both hooked and kicked too—a most particular onmarciful she-devil, that's a fact. She used to have some of her niggers tied up every day, and flogged uncommon severe, and their screams and screeches were horrid—no soul could stand it; nothin' was heerd all day, but 'Oh Lord Missus! Oh Lord Missus!' Enoch was fairly sick of the sound, for he was a tender-hearted man, and says he to her one day, 'Now do marm find out some other place to give your cattle the cowskin, for it worries me to hear 'em take on so dreadful bad; I can't stand it, I vow; they are flesh and blood as well as we be, though the meat is a different colour.' But it was no good; she jist up and told him to mind his own business, and she guessed she'd mind her'n. He was determined to shame her out of it; so one mornin' after breakfast he goes into the cane field, and says he to Lavender, one of the black overseers, 'Muster up the whole gang of slaves, every soul, and bring 'em down to the whippin' post, the whole stock of them, bulls, cows and calves.' Well, away goes Lavender, and drives up all the niggers. 'Now you catch it,' says he, 'you lazy villains; I tole you so many a time—I tole you Massa he lose all patience wid you, you good-for-nothin' rascals. I grad, upon my soul, I werry grad; you mind now what old Lavender say anoder time.' The black overseers are always the most cruel," said the Clockmaker; "they have no sort of feeling for their own people.

"Well, when they were gathered there according to orders, they looked streaked enough you may depend, thinkin' they were going to get it all round, and the wenches they fell to a-cryin', wringin' their hands, and boo-hooing like mad. Lavender was there with his cowskin, grinnin' like a chessy cat, and crackin' it about, ready for business. 'Pick me out,' says Enoch, 'four that have the loudest voices.' 'Hard matter dat,' says Lavender, 'hard matter dat, Massa, dey all talk loud, dey all lub talk more better nor work—de idle villians; better gib 'em all a little tickle, jist to teach 'em larf on t'other side of de mouth; dat side bran' new, they never use it yet.' 'Do as I order you, sir,' said Uncle, 'or I'll have you triced up, you cruel old rascal you.' When they were picked out and sot by themselves, they hanged their heads, and looked like sheep goin' to the shambles. 'Now, says Uncle Enoch, my pickininnies, do you sing out as loud as Niagara, at the very tip eend of your voice—

'"Don't kill a nigger, pray, Let him lib anoder day. Oh Lord Missus—oh Lord Missus!

'"My back be very sore, No stand it any more, Oh Lord Missus—oh Lord Missus!"

And all the rest of you join chorus, as loud as you can bawl, "Oh Lord Missus."' The black rascals understood the joke real well. They larfed ready to split their sides; they fairly lay down on the ground, and rolled over and over with lafter. Well, when they came to the chorus 'Oh Lord Missus,' if they didn't let go, it's a pity. They made the river ring agin—they were heerd clean out to sea. All the folks ran out of the Lady's House, to see what on airth was the matter on Uncle Enoch's plantation—they thought there was actilly a rebellion there; but when they listened awhile, and heerd it over and over again, they took the hint, and returned a-larfin' in their sleeves. Says they, 'Master Enoch Slick, he upsides with Missus this hitch anyhow.' Uncle never heerd anything more of 'Oh Lord Missus' arter that Yes, they ought to be shamed out of it, those Bluenoses. When reason fails to convince, there is nothin' left but ridicule. If they have no ambition, apply to their feelings, slap a blister on their pride, and it will do the business. It's like a-puttin' ginger under a horse's tail; it makes him carry up real handSUM, I tell you. When I was a boy, I was always late to school: well father's preachin' I didn't mind much, but I never could bear to hear mother say, 'Why Sam, are you actilly up for all day? Well, I hope your airly risin' won't hurt you, I declare. What on airth is a-goin' to happen now?' Well, wonders will never cease. It raised my dander; at last says I, 'Now, mother, don't say that 'ere any more for gracious sake, for it makes me feel ugly, and I'll get up as airly as any on you,' and so I did, and I soon found what's worth knowin' in this life—An airly start makes easy stages."



No. XIII

The Clockmaker's Opinion of Halifax.

The next morning was warmer than several that had preceded it. It was one of those uncommonly fine days that distinguish an American autumn.

"I guess," said Mr. Slick, "the heat today is like a glass of mint julip, with a lump of ice in it, it tastes cool and feels warm; it's real good, I tell you. I love such a day as this dearly. It's generally allowed the finest weather in the world is in America; there ain't the beat of it to be found anywhere." He then lighted a cigar, and throwing himself back on his chair, put both feet out of the window, and sat with his arms folded, a perfect picture of happiness.

"You appear," said I, "to have travelled over the whole of this Province, and to have observed the country and the people with much attention; pray what is your opinion of the present state and future prospects of Halifax?"

"If you will tell me," said he, "when the folks there will wake up, then I can answer you, but they are fast asleep. As to the Province, it's a splendid province, and calculated to go ahead, it will grow as fast as a Varginny gal; and they grow so amazin' fast, if you put your arm round one of their necks to kiss them, by the time you're done, they've grown up into women. It's a pretty Province I tell you, good above and better below; surface covered with pastures, meadows, woods, and a 'nation sight of water privileges, and under the ground full of mines—it puts me in mind of the soup at the TREE-mont House.

"One day I was a-walkin' in the Mall, and who should I meet but Major Bradford, a gentleman from Connecticut, that traded in calves and pumpkins for the Boston market. Says he, 'Slick, where do you get your grub today?' 'At General Peep's tavern,' says I. 'Only fit for niggers,' says he, 'why don't you come to the TREE-mont house, that's the most splendid thing, it's generally allowed, in all the world.' 'Why,' says I, 'that's a notch above my mark; I guess it's too plagy dear for me, I can't afford it no how.' 'Well,' says he, 'it's dear in one sense, but it's dog cheap in another—it's a grand place for speculation. There's so many rich southerners and strangers there that have more money than wit, that you might do a pretty good business there, without goin' out of the street door. I made two hundred dollars this mornin' in little less than half no time. There's a Carolina lawyer there, as rich as a bank, and says he to me arter breakfast, "Major," says he, "I wish I knew where to get a real slapping trotter of a horse, one that could trot with a flash of lightning for a mile, and beat it by a whole neck or so." Says I, "My Lord," for you must know, he says he's the nearest male heir to a Scotch dormant peerage, "my Lord," says I, "I have one, a proper sneezer, a chap that can go ahead of a railroad steamer, a real natural traveller, one that can trot with the ball out of the small eend of a rifle, and never break into a gallop." Says he, "Major, I wish you wouldn't give me that 'ere nickname, I don't like it," though he looked as tickled all the time as possible; "I never knew," says he, "a lord that warn't a fool, that's a fact, and that's the reason I don't go ahead and claim the title." "Well," says I, "my Lord I don't know, but somehow I can't help a-thinkin', if you have a good claim, you'd be more like a fool not to go ahead with it." "Well," says he, "lord or no lord, let's look at your horse." So away I went to Joe Brown's livery stable, at t'other eend of the city, and picked out the best trotter he had, and no great stick to brag on either; says I, "Joe Brown what do you ax for that 'ere horse?" "Two hundred dollars," says he. "Well," says I, "I will take him out and try him, and if I like him I will keep him." So I shows our Carolina Lord the horse, and when he gets on him, says I, "Don't let him trot as fast as he can, resarve that for a heat; if folks find out how everlastin' fast he is, they'd be afeared to stump you for a start." When he returned, he said he liked the horse amazinly, and axed the price; "four hundred dollars," says I, "you can't get nothin' special without a good price, pewter cases never hold good watches." "I know it," says he, "the horse is mine." Thinks I to myself, that's more than ever I could say of him then anyhow.'

"Well, I was goin' to tell you about the soup; says the Major, 'It's near about dinner time, jist come and see how you like the location.' There was a sight of folks there, gentlemen and ladies in the public room—I never seed so many afore except at commencement day—all ready for a start, and when the gong sounded, off we sot like a flock of sheep. Well, if there warn't a jam you may depend; some one give me a pull, and I near abouts went heels up over head, so I reached out both hands, and caught hold of the first thing I could, and what should it be but a lady's dress—well, as I'm alive, rip went the frock, and tear goes the petticoat, and when I righted myself from my beam eends, away they all came home to me, and there she was, the pretty critter, with all her upper riggin' standin' as far as her waist, and nothin' left below but a short linen under-garment. If she didn't scream, it's a pity, and the more she screamed the more folks larfed, for no soul could help larfin', till one of the waiters folded her up in a tablecloth.

"'What an awkward devil you be, Slick,' says the Major; 'now that comes of not falling in first; they should have formed four deep, rear rank in open order, and marched in to our splendid national air, and filed off to their seats right and left shoulders forward. I feel kinder sorry, too,' says he, 'for that 'ere young heifer; but she showed a proper pretty leg tho' Slick, didn't she? I guess you don't often get such a chance as that 'ere.' Well, I gets near the Major at table, and afore me stood a china utensil with two handles, full of soup, about the size of a foot-tub, with a large silver scoop in it, near about as big as a ladle of a maple sugar kettle. I was jist about bailing out some soup into my dish, when the Major said, 'Fish it up from the bottom, Slick.' Well, sure enough, I gives it a drag from the bottom, and up come the fat pieces of turtle, and the thick rich soup, and a sight of little forced meat balls of the size of sheep's dung. No soul could tell how good it was; it was near about as handSUM as father's old genuine particular cider, and that you could feel tingle clean away down to the tip eends of your toes. 'Now,' says the Major, 'I'll give you, Slick, a new wrinkle on your horn. Folks ain't thought nothin' of unless they live at Treemont: it's all the go. Do you dine at Peep's tavern every day, and then off hot foot to Treemont, and pick your teeth on the street steps there, and folks will think you dine there. I do it often, and it saves two dollars a day.' Then he put his finger on his nose, and says he, 'Mum is the word.'

"Now, this Province is jist like that 'ere soup—good enough at top, but dip down and you have the riches, the coal, the iron ore, the gypsum, and what not. As for Halifax, it's well enough in itself, though no great shakes neither, a few sizeable houses, with a proper sight of small ones, like half a dozen old hens with their broods of young chickens; but the people, the strange critters, they are all asleep. They walk in their sleep, and talk in their sleep, and what they say one day they forget the next; they say they were dreaming. You know where Governor Campbell lives, don't you, in a large stone house with a great wall round it, that looks like a state prison; well, near hand there is a nasty dirty horrid-lookin' buryin' ground there; it's filled with large grave rats as big as kittens, and the springs of black water there go through the chinks of the rocks and flow into all the wells, and fairly pyson the folks; it's a dismal place, I tell you; I wonder the air from it don't turn all the silver in the Governor's house of a brass colour—and folks say he has four cart loads of it—it's so everlastin' bad; it's near about as nosey as a slave ship of niggers. Well you may go there and shake the folks to all etarnity and you won't wake 'em, I guess, and yet there ain't much difference atween their sleep and the folks at Halifax, only they lie still there and are quiet, and don't walk and talk in their sleep like them above ground.

"Halifax reminds me of a Russian officer I once seed at Warsaw; he had lost both arms in battle—but I guess I must tell you first why I went there, 'cause that will show you how we speculate. One Sabbath day, after bell ringin', when most of the women had gone to meetin'—for they were great hands for pretty sarmons, and our Unitarian ministers all preach poetry, only they leave the rhyme out; it sparkles like perry—I goes down to East India wharf to see Captain Zeek Hancock, of Nantucket, to enquire how oil was, and if it it would bear doin' anything in; when who should come along but Jabish Green. 'Slick,' says he, 'how do you do; isn't this as pretty a day as you'll see between this and Norfolk; it whips English weather by a long chalk;' and then he looked down at my watch seals, and looked and looked as if he thought I'd stole 'em. At last he looks up, and says he, 'Slick, I suppose you wouldn't go to Warsaw, would you, if it was made worth your while?' 'Which Warsaw?' says I, for I believe in my heart we have a hundred of 'em. 'None of our'n at all,' says he; 'Warsaw in Poland.' 'Well, I don't know,' says I; 'what do you call worth while?' 'Six dollars a day, expenses paid, and a bonus of one thousand dollars, if speculation turns out well.' 'I am off,' says I, 'whenever you say go.' 'Tuesday,' says he, 'in the Hamburg packet. Now,' says he, 'I'm in a tarnation hurry; I'm goin' a-pleasurin' today in the Custom House Boat, along with Josiah Bradford's gals down to Nahant. But I'll tell you what I am at: the Emperor of Russia has ordered the Poles to cut off their queues on the 1st of January; you must buy them all up, and ship them off to London for the wig makers. Human hair is scarce and risin'. 'Lord a massy!' says I, 'how queer they will look, won't they. Well, I vow, that's what the sea folks call sailing under bare poles, come true, ain't it?' 'I guess it will turn out a good spec,' says he; and a good one it did turn out—he cleared ten thousand dollars by it.

"When I was at Warsaw, as I was a-sayin', there was a Russian officer there who had lost both his arms in battle; a good-natured contented critter, as I e'enamost ever seed, and he was fed with spoons by his neighbours, but arter awhile they grew tired of it, and I guess he near about starved to death at last. Now Halifax is like that 'ere SPOONEY, as I used to call him; it is fed by the outports, and they begin to have enough to do to feed themselves; it must larn to live without 'em. They have no river, and no country about 'em; let them make a railroad to Minas Basin, and they will have arms of their own to feed themselves with. If they don't do it, and do it soon, I guess they'll get into a decline that no human skill will cure. They are proper thin now; you can count their ribs e'enamost as far as you can see them. The only thing that will either make or save Halifax, is a railroad across the country to Bay of Fundy.

"'It will do to talk of,' says one. 'You'll see it some day,' says another. 'Yes,' says a third, 'it will come, but we are too young yet.'

"Our old minister had a darter, a real clever-lookin' gal as you'd see in a day's ride, and she had two or three offers of marriage from 'sponsible men—most particular good specs—but minister always said, 'Phoebe, you are too young—the day will come—but you are too young yet dear.' Well, Phoebe didn't think so at all; she said she guessed she knew better nor that: so the next offer she had, she said she had no notion to lose another chance—off she shot to Rhode Island and got married. Says she, 'Father's too old, he don't know.' That's jist the case at Halifax. The old folks say the country is too young, the time will come, and so on; and in the meantime the young folks won't wait, and run off to the States, where the maxim is, 'Youth is the time for improvement; a new country is never too young for exertion; push on—keep movin—go ahead.'

"Darn it all," said the Clockmaker, rising with great animation, clinching his fist, and extending his arm, "darn it all, it fairly makes my dander rise, to see the nasty idle, loungin' good-for-nothin', do-little critters; they ain't fit to tend a bear-trap, I vow. They ought to be quilted round and round a room, like a lady's lap-dog, the matter of two hours a day, to keep them from dyin' of apoplexy."

"Hush, hush!" said I, "Mr. Slick, you forget."

"Well," said he, resuming his usual composure, "well, it's enough to make one vexed though, I declare—isn't it?"

Mr. Slick has often alluded to this subject, and always in a most decided manner. I am inclined to think he is right. Mr. Howe's papers on the railroad I read till I came to his calculations, but I never could read figures, "I can't cipher," and there I paused; it was a barrier: I retreated a few paces, took a running leap, and cleared the whole of them. Mr. Slick says he has UNDER and not OVER rated its advantages. He appears to be such a shrewd, observing, intelligent man, and so perfectly at home on these subjects, that I confess I have more faith in this humble but eccentric Clockmaker, than in any other man I have met with in this Province. I therefore pronounce "there will be a railroad."



No. XIV

Sayings and Doings in Cumberland.

"I reckon," said the Clockmaker, as we strolled through Amherst, "you have read Hook's story of the boy that one day asked one of his father's guests who his next door neighbour was, and when he heerd his name, asked him if he warn't a fool. 'No, my little feller,' said he, 'he bean't a fool, he is a most particular sensible man; but why did you ax that 'ere question?' 'Why,' said the little boy, 'mother said t'other day you were next door to a fool, and I wanted to know who lived next door to you.' His mother felt pretty ugly, I guess, when she heerd him run right slap on that 'ere breaker.

"Now these Cumberland folks have curious next door neighbours, too; they are placed by their location right atwixt fire and water; they have New Brunswick politics on one side, and Nova Scotia politics on t'other side of them, and Bay Fundy and Bay Varte on t'other two sides; they are actilly in hot water; they are up to their cruppers in politics, and great hands for talking of House of Assembly, political Unions, and what not. Like all folks who wade so deep, they can't always tell the natur' of the ford. Sometimes they strike their shins agin a snag of a rock; at other times they go whap into a quicksand, and if they don't take special care they are apt to go souse over head and ears into deep water. I guess if they'd talk more of ROTATION, and less of ELECTIONS, more of them 'ere DYKES, and less of BANKS, and attend more to TOP-DRESSING, and less to RE-DRESSING, it'd be better for 'em."

"Now you mention the subject, I think I have observed," said I, "that there is a great change in your countrymen in that respect. Formerly, whenever you met an American, you had a dish of politics set before you, whether you had an appetite for it or not; but lately I have remarked they seldom allude to it. Pray to what is this attributable?"

"I guess," said he, "they have enough of it to home, and are sick of the subject. They are cured the way our pastry cooks cure their 'prentices of stealing sweet notions out of their shops. When they get a new 'prentice they tell him he must never so much as look at all them 'ere nice things; and if he dares to lay the weight of his finger upon one on 'em, they'll have him up for it before a justice; they tell him it's every bit and grain as bad as stealing from a till. Well, that's sure to set him at it, just as a high fence does a breachy ox, first to look over it, and then to push it down with its rump; it's human natur'. Well, the boy eats and eats till he can't eat no longer, and then he gets sick at his stomach, and hates the very sight of sweetmeats arterwards.

"We've had politics with us, till we're dog sick of 'em, I tell you. Besides, I guess we are as far from perfection as when we set out a-rowin' for it. You may get purity of Election, but how are you to get purity of Members? It would take a great deal of ciphering to tell that. I never seed it yet, and never heerd tell of one who had seed it.

"The best member I e'enamost ever seed was John Adams. Well, John Adams could no more plough a straight furrow in politics than he could haul the plough himself. He might set out straight at beginnin' for a little way, but he was sure to get crooked afore he got to the eend of the ridge—and sometimes he would have two or three crooks in it. I used to say to him, 'How on airth is it, Mr. Adams'—for he was no way proud like, though he was president of our great nation, and it is allowed to be the greatest nation in the world, too; for you might see him sometimes of an arternoon, a-swimmin' along with the boys in the Potomac; I do believe that's the way he larned to give the folks the dodge so spry—well, I used to say to him, 'How on airth is it, Mr. Adams, you can't make straight work on it?' He was a grand hand at an excuse, though minister used to say that folks that were good at an excuse, were seldom good for nothin' else; sometimes he said the ground was so tarnation stony, it throwed the plough out; at other times he said the off ox was such an ugly wilful-tempered critter, there was no doin' nothin' with him; or that there was so much machinery about the plough, it made it plagy hard to steer; or maybe it was the fault of them that went afore him, that they laid it down so bad; unless he was hired for another term of four years, the work wouldn't look well; and if all them 'ere excuses wouldn't do, why he would take to scolding the nigger that drove the team, throw all the blame on him, and order him to have an everlastin' lacin' with the cowskin. You might as well catch a weasel asleep as catch him. He had somethin' the matter with one eye; well, he knew I know'd that when I was a boy; so one day, a feller presented a petition to him, and he told him it was very affectin'. Says he, 'it fairly draws tears from me,' and his weak eye took to lettin' off its water like statiee so as soon as the chap went, he winks to me with t'other one, quite knowin', as much as to say, 'You see it's all in my eye, Slick, but don't let on to any one about it, that I said so.' That eye was a regular cheat, a complete New England wooden nutmeg. Folks said Mr. Adams was a very tender-hearted man. Perhaps he was, but I guess that eye didn't pump its water out o' that place.

"Members in general ain't to be depended on, I tell you. Politics makes a man as crooked as a pack does a peddler; not that they are so awful heavy, neither, but it TEACHES A MAN TO STOOP IN THE LONG RUN. Arter all, there's not that difference in 'em—at least there ain't in Congress—one would think; for if one on 'em is clear of one vice, why, as like as not, he has another fault just as bad. An honest farmer, like one of these Cumberland folks, when he goes to choose atwixt two that offers for votes, is jist like the flying-fish. That 'ere little critter is not content to stay to home in the water, and mind its business, but he must try his hand at flyin', and he is no great dab at flyin', neither. Well, the moment he's out of water, and takes to flyin', the sea fowl are arter him, and let him have it; and if he has the good luck to escape them, and makes a dive into the sea, the dolphin, as like as not, has a dig at him, that knocks more wind out of him than he got while aping the birds, a plagy sight. I guess the Bluenose knows jist about as much about politics as this foolish fish knows about flyin'. All the critters in natur' are better in their own element.

"It beats cock-fightin', I tell you, to hear the Bluenoses, when they get together, talk politics. They have got three or four evil spirits, like the Irish Banshees, that they say cause all the mischief in the province: the council, the banks, the house of assembly and the lawyers. If a man places a higher valiation on himself than his neighbours do, and wants to be a magistrate before he is fit to carry the ink horn for one, and finds himself safely delivered of a mistake, he says it is all owing to the Council. The members are cunnin' critters, too; they know this feelin', and when they come home from Assembly, and people ax 'em, 'where are all them 'ere fine things you promised us?' 'Why,' they say, 'we'd a had 'em all for you, but for that etarnal Council, they nullified all we did.' The country will come to no good till them chaps show their respect for it, by covering their bottoms with homespun. If a man is so tarnation lazy he won't work, and in course has no money, why he says it's all owin' to the banks, they won't discount, there's no money, they've ruined the Province. If there bean't a road made up to every citizen's door, away back to the woods—who as like as not has squatted there—why he says the House of Assembly have voted all the money to pay great men's salaries, and there's nothin' left for poor settlers, and cross roads. Well, the lawyers come in for their share of cake and ale, too; if they don't catch it, it's a pity.

"There was one Jim Munroe of Onion County, Connecticut, a desperate idle fellow, a great hand at singin' songs, a-skatin', drivin' about with the gals, and so on. Well, if anybody's windows were broke, it was Jim Munroe, if any man's horse lost a tail, or anybody's dog got a kettle tied on to his'n, it was Jim Munroe, and if there were any youngsters in want of a father, they were sure to be poor Jim's. Jist so it is with the lawyers here; they stand Godfathers for every misfortune that happens in the country. When there is a mad dog a-goin' about, every dog that barks is said to be bit by the mad one, so he gets credit for all the mischief that every dog does for three months to come. So every feller that goes yelpin' home from a court house, smartin' from the law, swears he is bit by a lawyer. Now there may be something wrong in all these things—and it can't be otherwise in natur'—in council, banks, house of assembly, and lawyers: but change them all, and it's an even chance if you don't get worse ones in their room. It is in politics as in horses; when a man has a beast that's near about up to the notch, he'd better not swap him; if he does, he's e'enamost sure to get one not so good as his own. My rule is, I'd rather keep a critter whose faults I do know, than change him for a beast whose faults I don't know."



No. XV

The Dancing Master Abroad.

"I wish that 'ere black heifer in the kitchen would give over singing that 'ere everlastin' dismal tune," said the Clockmaker, "it makes my head ache. You've heerd a song afore now," said he, "havn't you, till you was fairly sick of it? for I have, I vow. The last time I was in Rhode Island—all the gals sing there, and it's generally allowed there's no such singers anywhere; they beat the EYE-talians a long chalk; they sing so high some on 'em, they go clear out o' hearin' sometimes, like a lark—well, you heerd nothin' but 'Oh no, we never mention her;' well, I grew so plaguy tired of it, I used to say to myself, I'd sooner see it, than heer tell of it, I vow; I wish to gracious you would 'never mention her,' for it makes me feel ugly to hear that same thing for ever and ever and amen that way. Well, they've got a cant phrase here, 'the schoolmaster is abroad,' and every feller tells you that fifty times a day.

"There was a chap said to me not long ago, at Truro, 'Mr. Slick, this Country is rapidly improving, "the schoolmaster is abroad now,"' and he looked as knowin' as though he had found a mate's nest. 'So I should think,' said I, 'and it would be jist about as well, I guess, if he'd stay to home and mind his business, for your folks are so consoomedly ignorant, I reckon he's abroad e'enamost all his time. I hope when he returns, he'll be the better of his travels, and that's more nor many of our young folks are who go "abroad," for they import more airs and nonsense than they dispose of one while, I tell you; some of the stock remains on hand all the rest of their lives.' There's nothin' I hate so much as cant, of all kinds, it's a sure sign of a tricky disposition. If you see a feller cant in religion, clap your hand into your pocket, and lay right hold of your puss, or he'll steal it as sure as you're alive; and if a man cant in politics, he'll sell you if he gets a chance, you may depend. Law and physic are jist the same, and every mite and morsel as bad. If a lawyer takes to cantin', it's like the fox preachin' to the geese, he'll eat up his whole congregation; and if a doctor takes to it, he's a quack as sure as rates. The Lord have massy on you, for he won't. I'd sooner trust my chance with a naked hook any time, than one that's half covered with bad bait. The fish will sometimes swaller the one, without thinkin', but they get frightened at t'other, turn tail and off like a shot.

"Now, to change the tune, I'll give the Bluenoses a new phrase. They'll have an election most likely next year, and then 'the dancin' master will be abroad.' A candidate is a most particular polite man, a-noddin' here, and a-bowin' there, and a-shakin' hands all round. Nothin' improves a man's manners like an election. 'The dancin' master's abroad then;' nothin' gives the paces equal to that, it makes them as squirmy as an eel, they cross hands and back agin, set to their partners and right and left in great style, and slick it off at the eend, with a real complete bow, and a smile for all the world as sweet as a cat makes at a pan of new milk. Then they get as full of compliments as a dog is full of fleas—enquirin' how the old lady is to home, and the little boy that made such a wonderful smart answer, they never can forget it till next time; a-praisin' a man's farm to the nines, and a-tellin' of him, how scandalous the road that leads to his location has been neglected, and how much he wants to find a real complete hand that can build a bridge over his brook, and axin' him if HE ever built one. When he gets the hook baited with the right fly, and the simple critter begins to jump out of water arter it, all mouth and gills, he winds up the reel, and takes leave, a-thinkin' to himself 'Now you see what's to the eend of my line, I guess I'll know where to find you when I want you.'

"There's no sort of fishin' requires so much practice as this. When bait is scarce one worm must answer for several fish. A handful of oats in a pan, arter it brings one horse up in a pastur' for the bridle, serves for another, a-shakin' of it, is better than a-givin' of it, it saves the grain for another time. It's a poor business arter all, is electioneering, and when 'the Dancin' Master is abroad,' he's as apt to teach a man to cut capers and get larfed at as anything else. It ain't every one that's soople enough to dance real complete. Politics take a great deal of time, and grind away a man's honesty near about as fast as cleaning a knife with brick dust, 'it takes its steel out.' What does a critter get arter all for it in this country, why nothin' but expense and disappointment. As King Solomon says—and that 'ere man was up to a thing or two, you may depend, though our professor did say he warn't so knowin' as Uncle Sam—it's all vanity and vexation of spirit.

"I raised a four-year-old colt once, half blood, a perfect pictur' of a horse, and a genuine clipper, could gallop like the wind; a real daisy, a perfect doll; had an eye like a weasel, and nostril like Commodore Rodgers' speakin' trumpet. Well, I took it down to the races at New York, and father he went along with me; for says he, 'Sam, you don't know everything, I guess, you hain't cut your wisdom teeth yet, and you are goin' among them that's had 'em through their gums this while past.' Well, when we gets to the races, father he gets colt and puts him in an old wagon, with a worn out Dutch harness, and breast band; he looked like Old Nick, that's a fact. Then he fastened a head martingale on, and buckled it to the girths atwixt his fore legs. Says I, 'Father, what on airth are you at? I vow I feel ashamed to be seen with such a catamaran as that, and colt looks like old Satan himself—no soul would know him.' 'I guess I warn't born yesterday, Sam,' says he, 'let me be, I know what I am at. I guess I'll slip it into 'em afore I've done as slick as a whistle. I guess I can see as far into a millstone as the best on 'em.'

"Well, father never entered the horse at all, but stood by and seed the races, and the winnin' horse was followed about by the matter of two or three thousand people, a-praisin' of him and admirin' him. They seemed as if they never had seed a horse afore. The owner of him was all up on eend a-boastin' of him, and a-stumpin' the course to produce a horse to run agin him for four hundred dollars. Father goes up to him, lookin' as soft as dough, and as meechin' as you please, and says he, 'Friend, it ain't every one that has four hundred dollars; it's a plaguy sight of money, I tell you; would you run for one hundred dollars, and give me a little start? If you would, I'd try my colt out of my old wagon agin you, I vow.' 'Let's look at your horse,' says he; so away they went, and a proper sight of people arter them to look at colt, and when they seed him they sot up such a larf, I felt e'enamost ready to cry for spite. Says I to myself; 'What can possess the old man to act arter that fashion, I do believe he has taken leave of his senses.' 'You needn't larf,' says Father, 'he's smarter than he looks; our Minister's old horse, Captain Jack, is reckoned as quick a beast of his age as any in our location, and that 'ere colt can beat him for a lick of a quarter of a mile quite easy; I seed it myself.' Well, they larfed agin louder than before, and says father, 'If you dispute my word, try me; what odds will you give?' 'Two to one,' says the owner, 'eight hundred to four hundred dollars.' 'Well, that's a great deal of money, ain't it,' says father, 'if I was to lose it I'd look pretty foolish, wouldn't I. How folks would pass their jokes at me when I went home again. You wouldn't take that 'ere wagon and harness for fifty dollars of it, would you?' says he. 'Well,' says the other, 'sooner than disappoint you, as you seem to have set your mind on losing your money, I don't care if I do.'

"As soon as it was settled, father drives off to the stables, and then returns mounted, with a red silk pocket handkerchief tied round his head, and colt a-looking like himself as proud as a nabob, chock full of spring like the wire eend of a bran' new pair of trouser galluses. One said, 'That's a plaguy nice lookin' colt that old feller has arter all.' 'That horse will show play for it yet,' says a third; and I heard one feller say, 'I guess that's a regular Yankee trick, a complete take in.' They had a fair start for it, and off they sot; father took the lead and kept it, and won the race, though it was a pretty tight scratch, for father was too old to ride colt, he was near about the matter of seventy years old.

"Well, when the colt was walked round after the race, there was an amazin' crowd arter him, and several wanted to buy him; but, says father, 'How am I to get home without him, and what shall I do with that 'ere wagon and harness so far as I be from Slickville.' So he kept them in talk, till he felt their pulses pretty well, and at last he closed with a Southerner for seven hundred dollars, and we returned, having made a considerable good spec of colt. Says father to me, 'Sam,' says he, 'you seed the crowd a-follerin' the winnin' horse, when we came there, didn't you?' 'Yes sir,' said I, 'I did.' 'Well, when colt beat him, no one follered him at all, but come a-crowdin' about HIM. That's popularity,' said he, 'soon won, soon lost—cried up sky high one minute, and deserted the next or run down; colt will share the same fate. He'll get beat afore long, and then he's done for. The multitude are always fickle-minded. Our great Washington found that out, and the British officer that beat Bonaparte, the bread they gave him turned sour afore he got half through the loaf. His soap had hardly stiffened afore it ran right back to lye and grease agin.

"'I was sarved the same way. I liked to have missed my pension; the Committee said I warn't at Bunker's hill at all, the villans. That was a Glo—-' Thinks I, old boy, if you once get into that 'ere field, you'll race longer than colt, a plaguy sight; you'll run clear away to the fence to the far eend afore you stop, so I jist cut in and took a hand myself. 'Yes,' says I, 'you did 'em father, properly; that old wagon was a bright scheme, it led 'em on till you got 'em on the right spot, didn't it?' Says father, 'THERE'S A MORAL SAM, IN EVERYTHING IN NATUR'. Never have nothin' to do with elections, you see the vally of popularity in the case of that 'ere horse—sarve the public nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and the thousandth, if they don't agree with you, they desart and abuse you. See how they sarved old John Adams, see how they let Jefferson starve in his old age, see how good old Munroe like to have got right into jail, after his term of President was up. They may talk of independence,' says father, 'but Sam, I'll tell you what independence is,' and he gave his hands a slap agin his trousers pocket, and made the gold eagles he won at the race all jingle agin—'THAT!' says he, giving them another wipe with his fist, and winkin', as much as to say, do you hear that, my boy! 'THAT I CALL INDEPENDENCE.' He was in great spirits, the old man, he was so proud of winnin' the race, and puttin' the leake into the New Yorkers, he looked all dander. 'Let them great hungry, ill-favoured, long-legged bitterns,' says he (only he called them by another name that don't sound quite pretty), 'from the outlandish states to Congress, TALK ABOUT independence; but Sam,' said he, hitting the shiners agin till he made them dance right up an eend in his pocket, 'I LIKE TO FEEL IT.'

"'No Sam,' said he, 'line the pocket well first, make that independent, and then the spirit will be like a horse turned out to grass in the spring for the first time; he's all head and tail, a-snortin' and kickin' and racin' and carryin' on like mad; it soon gets independent too. While it's in the stall it may hold up, and paw, and whinny, and feel as spry as anything, but the leather strap keeps it to the manger, and the lead weight to the eend of it makes it hold down its head at last. No,' says he, 'here's independence,' and he gave the Eagles such a drive with his fist, he bust his pocket and sent a whole raft of them a-spinnin' down his leg to the ground. Says I, 'father,' and I swear I could hardly keep from larfin', he looked so peskily vexed, 'Father,' says I, 'I guess there's a moral in that 'ere too: EXTREMES NARY WAY ARE NONE O' THE BEST.' 'Well, well,' says he, kinder snappishly, 'I suppose you're half right, Sam, but we've said enough about it; let's drop the subject, and see if I have picked 'em all up, for my eyes are none of the best now, I'm near hand to seventy.'"



No. XVI

Mr. Slick's Opinion of the British.

"What success had you," said I, "in the sale of your clocks among the Scotch in the eastern part of the Province? Do you find them as gullible as the Bluenoses?"

"Well," said he, "you have heerd tell that a Yankee never answers one question, without axing another, haven't you? Did you ever see an English stage-driver make a bow? because if you hain't observed it, I have, and a queer one it is, I swan. He brings his right arm up, jist across his face, and passes on, with a knowin' nod of his head, as much as to say, how do you do? but keep clear o' my wheels, or I'll fetch your horses a lick in the mouth as sure as you're born; jist as a bear puts up his paw to fend off the blow of a stick from his nose. Well, that's the way I pass them 'ere bare-breeched Scotchmen. Lord, if they were located down in these here Cumberland marshes, how the mosquitoes would tickle them up, wouldn't they? They'd set 'em scratching thereabouts, as an Irishman does his head, when he's in sarch of a lie. Them 'ere fellers cut their eye-teeth afore they ever sot foot in this country, I expect. When they get a bawbee, they know what to do with it, that's a fact; they open their pouch and drop it in, and it's got a spring like a fox-trap; it holds fast to all it gets, like grim death to a dead nigger. They are proper skinflints, you may depend. Oatmeal is no great shakes at best; it ain't even as good for a horse as real yeller Varginny corn, but I guess I warn't long in finding out that the grits hardly pay for the riddlin'. No, a Yankee has as little chance among them as a Jew has in New England; the sooner he clears out, the better. You can no more put a leake into them, than you can send a chisel into teake wood; it turns the edge of the tool the first drive. If the Bluenoses knew the value of money as well as they do, they'd have more cash, and fewer clocks and tin reflectors, I reckon.

"Now, it's different with the Irish; they never carry a puss, for they never have a cent to put in it. They are always in love or in liquor, or else in a row; they are the merriest shavers I ever seed. Judge Beler—I dare say you have heerd tell of him; he's a funny feller—he put a notice over his factory gate at Lowell, 'no cigars or Irishmen admitted within these walls;' for, said he, 'The one will set a flame a-goin' among my cottons, and t'other among my gals. I won't have no such inflammable and dangerous things about me on no account.' When the British wanted our folks to join in the treaty to chock the wheels of the slave trade, I recollect hearin' old John Adams say, we had ought to humour them; for, says he, 'They supply us with labour on easier terms, by shippin' out the Irish.' Says he, 'They work better, and they work cheaper, and they don't live so long. The blacks, when they are past work hang on for ever, and a proper bill of expence they be; but hot weather and new rum rub out the poor rates for t'other ones.'

"The English are the boys for tradin' with; they shell out their cash like a sheef of wheat in frosty weather; it flies all over the thrashin' floor; but then they are a cross-grained, ungainly, kickin' breed of cattle, as I e'enamost ever seed. Whoever gave them the name of John Bull, knew what he was about, I tell you; for they are bull-necked, bull-headed folks, I vow; sulky, ugly tempered, vicious critters, a-pawin' and a-roarin' the whole time, and plaguy onsafe unless well watched. They are as headstrong as mules, and as conceited as peacocks."

The astonishment with which I heard this tirade against my countrymen absorbed every feeling of resentment. I listened with amazement at the perfect composure with which he uttered it. He treated it as one of those self-evident truths, that need neither proof nor apology, but as a thing well known and admitted by all mankind.

"There's no richer sight that I know of," said he, "than to see one on 'em when he first lands in one of our great cities. He swells out as big as a balloon; his skin is ready to burst with wind—a regular walking bag of gas; and he prances over the pavement like a bear over hot iron; a great awkward hulk of a feller—for they ain't to be compared to the French in manners—a-smirkin' at you, as much as to say, 'Look here, Jonathan, here's an Englishman; here's a boy that's got blood as pure as a Norman pirate, and lots of the blunt of both kinds, a pocket full of one, and a mouthfull of t'other; bean't he lovely?' and then he looks as fierce as a tiger, as much as to say, 'Say boo to a goose, if you dare.'

"No, I believe we may stump the univarse; we improve on everything, and we have improved on our own species. You'll search one while, I tell you, afore you'll find a man that, take him by and large, is equal to one of our free and enlightened citizens. He's the chap that has both speed, wind and bottom; he's clear grit—ginger to the backbone, you may depend. It's generally allowed there ain't the beat of them to be found anywhere. Spry as a fox, supple as an eel, and cute as a weasel. Though I say it that shouldn't say it, they fairly take the shine off creation—they are actilly equal to cash."

He looked like a man who felt that he had expressed himself so aptly and so well, that anything additional would only weaken its effect; he therefore changed the conversation immediately, by pointing to a tree at some little distance from the house, and remarking that it was the rock maple or sugar tree.

"It's a pretty tree," said he, "and a profitable one too to raise. It will bear tapping for many years, tho' it gets exhausted at last. This Province is like that 'ere tree, it is tapped till it begins to die at the top, and if they don't drive in a spile and stop the everlastin' flow of the sap, it will perish altogether. All the money that's made here, all the interest that's paid in it, and a pretty considerable portion of rent too, all goes abroad for investment, and the rest is sent to us to buy bread. It's drained like a bog, it has opened and covered trenches all through it, and then there's others to the foot of the upland to cut off the springs.

"Now you may make even a bog too dry; you may take the moisture out of it to that degree, that the very sile becomes dust and blows away. The English funds, and our banks, railroads, and canals, are all absorbing your capital like a sponge, and will lick it up as fast as you can make it. That very bridge we heerd of at Windsor is owned in New Brunswick, and will pay toll to that province. The capitalists of Nova Scotia treat it like a hired house, they won't keep it in repair; they neither paint it to preserve the boards, nor stop a leak to keep the frame from rottin'; but let it go to wrack sooner than drive a nail or put in a pane of glass. 'It will sarve our turn out,' they say.

"There's neither spirit, enterprise, nor patriotism here; but the whole country is as inactive as a bear in winter, that does nothin' but scroutch up in his den, a-thinkin' to himself, 'Well if I ain't an unfortunate devil, it's a pity; I have a most splendid warm coat as e'er a gentleman in these here woods, let him be who he will; but I got no socks to my feet, and I have to sit for everlastingly a-suckin' of my paws to keep 'em warm; if it warn't for that, I guess, I'd make some o' them chaps that have hoofs to their feet and horns to their heads, look about them pretty sharp, I know.' It's dismal now, ain't it? If I had the framin' of the Governor's message, if I wouldn't show 'em how to put timber together you may depend, I'd make 'em scratch their heads and stare, I know.

"I went down to Matanzas in the Fulton steamboat once; well, it was the first of the kind they ever seed, and proper scared they were to see a vessel, without sails or oars, goin' right straight ahead, nine knots an hour, in the very wind's eye, and a great streak of smoke arter her as long as the tail of a comet. I believe they thought it was Old Nick alive, a-treatin' himself to a swim. You could see the niggers a-clippin' it away from the shore, for dear life, and the soldiers a-movin' about as if they thought that we were a-goin' to take the whole country. Presently a little half-starved orange-coloured lookin' Spanish officer, all dressed off in his livery, as fine as a fiddle, came off with two men in a boat to board us. Well, we yawed once or twice, and motioned to him to keep off for fear he should get hurt; but he came right on afore the wheel, and I hope I may be shot if the paddle didn't strike the bow of the boat with that force, it knocked up the starn like a plank tilt, when one of the boys playin' on it is heavier than t'other; and chucked him right atop of the wheel-house. You never seed a feller in such a dunderment in your life. He had picked up a little English from seein' our folks there so much, and when he got up, the first thing he said was,'Damn all sheenery, I say; where's my boat?' and he looked round as if he thought it had jumped on board too. 'Your boat?' said the captain, why I expect it's gone to the bottom, and your men have gone down to look arter it, for we never seed or heerd tell of one or t'other of them arter the boat was struck.' Yes, I'd make 'em stare like that 'ere Spanish officer, as if they had seed out of their eyes for the first time. Governor Campbell didn't expect to see such a country as this when he came here, I reckon; I know he didn't.

"When I was a little boy, about knee high or so, and lived down Connecticut river, mother used to say, 'Sam, if you don't give over acting so like Old Scratch, I'll send you off to Nova Scotia as sure as you are born; I will, I vow.' Well, Lord, how that 'ere used to frighten me; it made my hair stand right up an eend, like a cat's back when she is wrathy; it made me drop it as quick as wink; like a tin night cap put on a dipped candle a-goin' to bed, it put the fun right out. Neighbour Dearborne's darter married a gentleman to Yarmouth, that speculates in the smugglin' line. Well, when she went on board to sail down to Nova Scotia, all her folks took on as if it was a funeral; they said she was goin' to be buried alive like the nuns in Portengale that get a-frolickin', break out of the pastur', and race off, and get catched and brought back agin. Says the old Colonel, her father, 'Deliverance, my dear, I would sooner foller you to your grave, for that would be an eend to your troubles, than to see you go off to that dismal country, that's nothin' but an iceberg aground;' and he howled as loud as an Irishman that tries to wake his wife when she is dead. Awful accounts we have of the country, that's a fact; but if the Province is not so bad as they make it out, the folks are a thousand times worse.

"You've seen a flock of partridges of a frosty mornin' in the fall, a-crowdin' out of the shade to a sunny spot, and huddlin' up there in the warmth? Well, the Bluenoses have nothin' else to do half the time but sun themselves. Whose fault is that? Why it's the fault of the legislature; they don't encourage internal improvement, nor the investment of capital in the country; and the result is apathy, inaction and poverty. They spend three months in Halifax, and what do they do? Father gave me a dollar once, to go to the fair at Hartford, and when I came back, says he, 'Sam, what have you got to show for it?' Now I ax what have they to show for their three months' setting? They mislead folks; they make 'em believe all the use of the assembly is to bark at councillors, judges, bankers, and such cattle, to keep 'em from eatin' up the crops; and it actilly costs more to feed them when they are watchin', than all the others could eat if they did break a fence and get in. Indeed some folks say they are the most breachy of the two, and ought to go to pound themselves. If their fences are good, them hungry cattle couldn't break through; and if they ain't, they ought to stake 'em up, and with them well; but it's no use to make fences unless the land is cultivated. If I see a farm all gone to wrack, I say here's bad husbandry and bad management; and if I see a Province like this, of great capacity, and great natural resources, poverty-stricken, I say there's bad legislation.

"No," said he (with an air of more seriousness than I had yet observed), "how much it is to be regretted, that, laying aside personal attacks and petty jealousies, they would not unite as one man, and with one mind and one heart apply themselves sedulously to the internal improvement and developement of this beautiful Province. Its value is utterly unknown, either to the general or local Government, and the only persons who duly appreciate it are the Yankees."



No. XVII

A Yankee Handle for a Halifax Blade.

"I met a man this mornin'," said the Clockmaker, "from Halifax, a real conceited lookin' critter as you e'enamost ever seed, all shines and didoes. He looked as if he had picked up his airs arter some officer of the regilars had worn 'em out and cast 'em off. They sot on him like second-hand clothes, as if they hadn't been made for him and didn't exactly fit. He looked fine, but awkward, like a captain of militia when he gets his uniform on, to play sodger; a-thinkin' himself mighty handSUM, and that all the world is a-lookin' at him. He marched up and down afore the street door like a peacock, as large as life and twice as natural; he had a riding whip in his hand and every now and then struck it agin his thigh, as much as to say, 'Ain't that a splendid leg for a boot, now? Won't I astonish the Amherst folks, that's all?' Thinks I, 'You are a pretty blade, ain't you? I'd like to fit a Yankee handle on to you, that's a fact.' When I came up, he held up his head near about as high as a shot factory, and stood with his fists on his hips, and eyed me from head to foot, as a shakin' quaker does a town lady; as much as to say, 'What a queer critter you be, that's toggery I never seed afore; you're some carnal-minded maiden, that's sartain.'

"'Well,' says he to me, with the air of a man that chucks a cent into a beggar's hat, 'a fine day this, sir.' 'Do you actilly think so?' said I, and I gave it the real Connecticut drawl. 'Why,' said he, quite short, 'if I didn't think so, I wouldn't say so.' 'Well,' says I, 'I don't know, but if I did think so, I guess I wouldn't say so.' 'Why not?' says he. 'Because, I expect,' says I, 'any fool could see that as well as me;' and then I stared at him, as much as to say, 'Now if you like that 'ere swap, I am ready to trade with you agin as soon as you like.' Well, he turned right round on his heel and walked off, a-whistlin' Yankee Doodle to himself. He looked jist like a man that finds whistlin' a plaguy sight easier than thinkin'.

"Presently, I heard him ax the groom who that 'ere Yankee lookin' feller was. 'That?' said the groom, 'why, I guess it's Mr. Slick.' 'Sho!' said he, 'how you talk. What! Slick the Clockmaker? why it ain't possible; I wish I had a known that 'ere afore, I declare, for I have a great curiosity to see him; folks say he is an amazin' clever feller that;' and he turned and stared, as if it was old Hickory himself. Then he walked round and about like a pig round the fence of a potato field, a-watchin' for a chance to cut in; so, thinks I, I'll jist give him something to talk about, when he gets back to the city; I'll fix a Yankee handle on to him in no time.

"'How's times to Halifax, sir,' said I. 'Better,' says he, 'much better. Business is done on a surer bottom than it was, and things look bright agin.' 'So does a candle,' says I, 'jist afore it goes out; it burns up ever so high and then sinks right down, and leaves nothin' behind but grease, and an everlastin' bad smell. I guess they don't know how to feed their lamp, and it can't burn long on nothin'. No, sir, the jig is up with Halifax, and it's all their own fault. If a man sits at his door, and sees stray cattle in his field, a-eatin' up of his crop, and his neighbours, a-eatin' off his grain, and won't so much as go and drive 'em out, why I should say it sarves him right.'

"I don't exactly understand, sir,' said he. Thinks I, it would be strange if you did, for I never see one of your folks yet that could understand a hawk from a handsaw. 'Well,' says I, 'I will tell you what I mean: draw a line from Cape Sable to Cape Cansoo, right through the Province, and it will split it into two, this way;' and I cut an apple into two halves; 'now,' says I, 'the worst half, like the rotten half of the apple, belongs to Halifax, and the other and sound half belongs to St. John. Your side of the province on the sea coast is all stone; I never seed such a proper sight of rocks in my life; it's enough to starve a rabbit. Well, t'other side on the Bay of Fundy, is a superfine country; there ain't the beat of it to be found anywhere. Now, wouldn't the folks living away up to the Bay, be pretty fools to go to Halifax, when they can go to St. John with half the trouble. St. John is the natural capital of the Bay of Fundy; it will be the largest city in America next to New York. It has an immense back country as big as Great Britain, a first chop river, and amazin' sharp folks, most as cute as the Yankees; it's a splendid location for business. Well, they draw all the produce of the Bay shores, and where the produce goes the supplies return; they will take the whole trade of the Province. I guess your rich folks will find they've burnt their fingers; they've put their foot in it, that's a fact. Houses without tenants, wharves without shipping, a town without people—what a grand investment! If you have any loose dollars, let 'em out on mortgage in Halifax, that's a security; keep clear of the country for your life; the people may run, but the town can't. No, take away the troops, and you're done; you'll sing the dead march folks did at Louisburg and Shelburne. Why you hain't got a single thing worth havin', but a good harbour, and as for that the coast is full of 'em. You havn't a pine log, a spruce board or a refuse shingle; you neither raise wheat, oats, or hay, nor never can; you have no staples on airth, unless it be them iron ones for the padlocks in Bridewell. You've sowed pride and reaped poverty; take care of your crop, for it's worth harvestin'. You have no river and no country, what in the name of fortin' have you to trade on?

"'But,' said he (and he showed the whites of his eyes like a wall-eyed horse), 'but,' said he, 'Mr. Slick, how is it then, Halifax ever grew at all! Hasn't it got what it always had? It's no worse than it was.' 'I guess,' said I, 'that pole ain't strong enough to bear you, neither; if you trust to that, you'll be into the brook, as sure as you are born; you once had the trade of the whole Province, but St. John has run off with that now; you've lost all but your trade in blueberries and rabbits with the niggers at Hammond Plains. You've lost your customers; your rivals have a better stand for business—they've got the corner store; four great streets meet there, and it's near the market slip.'

"Well, he stared; says he, 'I believe you're right, but I never thought of that afore.' Thinks I, nobody'd ever suspect you of the trick of thinkin' that ever I heerd tell of. 'Some of our great men,' said he, 'laid it all to your folks' selling so many clocks and Polyglot Bibles; they say you have taken off a horrid sight of money.' 'Did they, indeed?' said I; 'well, I guess it ain't pins and needles that's the expense of house-keepin', it is something more costly than that.' 'Well, some folks say it's the banks,' says he. 'Better still,' says I; 'perhaps you've hearn tell, too, that greasin' the axle, makes a gig harder to draw, for there's jist about as much sense in that.' 'Well then,' says he, 'others say it's smugglin' has made us so poor.' 'That guess,' said I, 'is most as good as t'other one; whoever found out that secret ought to get a patent for it, for it's worth knowin'. Then the country has grown poorer, hasn't it, because it has bought cheaper this year, than it did the year before? Why, your folks are cute chaps, I vow; they'd puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer, they are so amazin' knowin'.' 'Ah,' said he, and he rubb'd his hands and smiled, like a young doctor, when he gets his first patient; 'ah,' said he, 'if the timber duties are altered, down comes St. John, body and breeches; it's built on a poor foundation—it's all show; they are speculatin' like mad; they'll ruin themselves.' Says I, 'if you wait till they're dead for your fortin', it will be one while, I tell you, afore you pocket the shiners. It's no joke waitin' for a dead man's shoes. Suppose an old feller of eighty was to say, "When that 'ere young feller dies, I'm to inherit his property," what would you think? Why, I guess you'd think he was an old fool. No sir, if the English don't want their timber we do want it all; we have used our'n up, we hain't got a stick even to whittle. If the British don't offer we will, and St. John, like a dear little weepin' widow, will dry up her tears, and take to frolickin' agin and accept it right off.

"'There isn't at this moment such a location hardly in America, as St. John; for beside all its other advantages, it has this great one: its only rival, Halifax, has got a dose of opium that will send it snoring out of the world, like a feller who falls asleep on the ice of a winter's night. It has been asleep so long, I actilly think it never will wake. It's an easy death too; you may rouse them up if you like, but I vow I won't. I once brought a feller to that was drowned, and one night he got drunk and quilted me; I couldn't walk for a week. Says I, "You're the last chap I'll ever save from drowning in all my born days, if that's all the thanks I get for it." No sir, Halifax has lost the run of its custom. Who does Yarmouth trade with? St. John. Who does Annapolis County trade with? St. John. Who do all the folks on the Basin of Mines, and Bay shore, trade with? St. John. Who does Cumberland trade with? St. John. Well Pictou, Lunenburg and Liverpool, supply themselves, and the rest that ain't worth havin', trade with Halifax. They take down a few half-starved pigs, old viteran geese, and long legged fowls, some ram mutton and tough beef; and swap them for tea, sugar, and such little notions for their old women to home; while the railroads and canals of St. John are goin' to cut off your Gulf Shore trade to Miramichi, and along there. Flies live in the summer and die in winter, you're jist as noisy in war as those little critters, but you sing small in peace.

"'No, you're done for; you are up a tree, you may depend; pride must fall. Your town is like a ballroom arter a dance. The folks there eat, drank, and frolicked, and left an empty house; the lamps and hangings are left, but the people are gone.'

"'Is there no remedy for this?' said he; and he looked as wild as a Cherokee Indian. Thinks I, the handle is fitted on proper tight now. 'Well,' says I, 'when a man has a cold, he had ought to look out pretty sharp, afore it gets seated on his lungs; if he don't, he gets into a gallopin' consumption, and it's gone goose with him. There is a remedy, if applied in time: make a railroad to the Minas Basin, and you have a way for your customers to get to you, and a conveyance for your goods to them. When I was in New York last, a cousin of mine, Hezekiah Slick, said to me, "I do believe Sam, I shall be ruined; I've lost all my custom; they are widening and improving the streets, and there's so many carts and people to work in it, folks can't come to my shop to trade; what on airth shall I do? and I'm payin' a dreadful high rent too?" "Stop Ki," says I, "when the street is all finished off and slicked up, they'll all come back agin, and a whole raft more on 'em too, you'll sell twice as much as ever you did; you'll put off a proper swad of goods next year, you may depend;" and so he did, he made money, hand over hand. A railroad will bring back your customers, if done right off; but wait till trade has made new channels, and fairly gets settled in them, and you'll never divart it agin to all etarnity. When a feller waits till a gal gets married, I guess it will be too late to pop the question then.