Nature and Human Nature Part 53

My object however, Squire, is not to write a lecture on emanc.i.p.ation, but to give you a receipt for cooking "a dish of clams."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DEVIL'S HOLE; OR, FISH AND FLESH.

"Sorrow," said the doctor, "seems to me to consider women, from the way he flatters his mistress, as if she was not unlike the grupers at Bermuda. There is a natural fish-pond there near Flats Village, in which there is a great lot of these critters, which are about the size of the cod. They will rise to the surface, and approach the bank for you to tickle their sides, which seems to afford them particular delight."

"It is what you would call, I suppose, practical soft sawdering."

"But it is an operation of which the rest are exceedingly jealous, and while you are thus amusing one of them, you must take care others do not feel offended, and make a dash at your fingers. With true feminine jealousy too they change colour when excited, for envy seems to pervade all animate nature."

"It's called the Devil's Hole where they are, ain't it?" sais I.

"Yes," said he, "it is, and it is situated not far from Moore's favourite tree, under whose shade he used to recline while writing his poetry, at a time when his deputy was equally idle, and instead of keeping his accounts, kept his money. Bermuda is a fatal place to poets. Moore lost his purse there, and Waller his favourite ring; the latter has been recently found, the former was never recovered. In one thing these two celebrated authors greatly resembled each other, they both fawned and flattered on the great."

"Yes," said Cutler, "and both have met their reward. Everybody regrets that anything was known of either, but his poetry--"

"Well," sais I, "I am glad I am not an Englishman, or as true as the world, a chap like Lord John Russell would ruin me for ever. I am not a poet, and can't write poetry, but I am a Clockmaker, and write common sense. Now a biographer like that man, that knows as little of one as he does of the other, would ruin me for everlastingly. It ain't pleasant to have such a burr as that stick on to your tail, especially if you have no comb to get it off, is it? A politician is like a bee; he travels a zig-zag course every way, turnin' first to the right and then to the left, now makin' a dive at the wild honeysuckle, and then at the sweet briar; now at the buck-wheat blossom, and then at the rose; he is here and there and everywhere; you don't know where the plague to find him; he courts all and is constant to none. But when his point is gained and he has wooed and deceived all, attained his object, and his bag is filled, he then shows plain enough what he was after all the time. He returns as straight as a chalk line, or as we say, as the crow flies to his home, and neither looks to the right or to the left, or knows or cares for any of them who contributed to his success. His object is to enrich himself and make a family name. A politician therefore is the last man in the world to write a biography. Having a kind of sneakin' regard for a winding, wavy way himself, he sees more beauty in the in and out line of a Varginny fence, than the stiff straight formal post and rail one of New England. As long as a partizan critter is a thorn in the flesh of the adverse party, he don't care whether he is Jew or Gentile. He overlooks little peccadilloes, as he calls the worst stories, and thinks everybody else will be just as indulgent as himself. He uses romanists, dissenters, republicans, and evangelicals at his own great log-rolling1 frollicks, and rolls for them in return.

1 Log-rolling.--In the lumber regions of Maine, it is customary for men of different logging camps to appoint days for helping each other in rolling the logs to the river after they are felled and trimmed, this rolling being about the hardest work incident to the business.

Thus the men of three or four different camps will unite, say on Monday, to roll for camp No. 1, on Tuesday, for camp No. 2, on Wednesday, for camp No. 3, and so on through the whole number of camps within convenient distance of each other. The term has been adopted in legislation to signify a little system of mutual co-operation. For instance, a member from St Lawrence has a pet bill for a plank-road which he wants pushed through. He accordingly makes a bargain with a member from Onondaga, who is coaxing along a charter for a bank, by which St Lawrence agrees to vote for Onondaga's bank if Onondaga will vote St Lawrence's plank-road. This is legislative log-rolling, and there is abundance of it carried on at Albany every winter. Generally speaking, the subject of the log-rolling is some merely local project, interesting only to the people of a certain district; but sometimes there is party log-rolling, where the Whigs, for instance, will come to an understanding with the Democrats that the former shall not oppose a certain democratic measure merely on party grounds, provided the Democrats will be equally tender to some Whig measure in return.--J. INMAN.

"Who the plague hain't done something, said something, or thought something he is sorry for, and prays may be forgot and forgiven; big brag as I am, I know I can't say I haven't over and over again offended. Well, if it's the part of a friend to go and rake all these things up, and expose 'em to the public, and if it's agreeable to my wife, sposin' I had one, to have 'em published because the stained paper will sell, all I can sais is, I wish he had shown his regard for me by running away with my wife and letting me alone. It's astonis.h.i.+ng how many friends Moore's disloyalty made him. A seditious song or a treasonable speech finds more favour with some people in the old country than building a church, that's a fact. Howsomever, I think I am safe from him, for first, I am a Yankee, secondly, I ain't married, thirdly, I am a Clockmaker, and fourthly, my biography is written by myself in my book, fifthly, I write no letters I can help, and never answer one except on business."

"This is a hint father gave me: 'Sam,' said he, 'never talk to a woman, for others may hear you; only whisper to her, and never write to her, or your own letters may rise up in judgment against you some day or another. Many a man afore now has had reason to wish he had never seen a pen in his life;' so I ain't afeard therefore that he can write himself up or me down, and make me look skuywoniky, no how he can fix it. If he does, we will declare war again England, and blow the little darned thing out of the map of Europe; for it ain't much bigger than the little island Cronstadt is built on after all, is it?

It's just a little dot and nothin' more, dad fetch my b.u.t.tons if it is.

"But to go back to the grupers and the devil's hole; I have been there myself and seen it, Doctor," sais I, "but there is other fish besides these in it; there is the parrot-fish, and they are like the feminine gender too; if the grupers are fond of being tickled, parrots are fond of hearing their own voices. Then there is the angel-fish, they have fins like wings of a pale blue colour; but they must be fallen angels to be in such a place as that hole too, musn't they? and yet they are handsome even now. Gracious! what must they have been before the fall!

and how many humans has beauty caused to fall, Doctor, hasn't it? and how many there are that the sound of that old song, 'My face is my fortune, Sir, she said,' would make their hearts swell till they would almost burst.

"Well, then there is another fish there, and those Mudians sartainly must have a good deal of fun in them, to make such a capital and comical a.s.sortment of queer ones for that pond. There is the lawyer-fish--can anything under the sun be more appropriate than the devil's hole for a lawyer? What a nice place for him to hang out his s.h.i.+ngle in, ain't it? it's no wonder his old friend the landlord finds him an office in it--rent free, is it? What mischief he must brood there; bringing actions of slander against the foolish parrot-fish that will let their tongues run, ticklin' the grupers, and while they are smirking and smiling, devour their food, and prosecute the fallen angels for violating the Maine law and disturbing the peace. The devil's hole, like Westminster Hall, is a dangerous place for a fellow of substance to get into, I can tell you; the way they fleece him is a caution to sinners.

"My dog fell into that fish-pond, and they nearly fixed his flint before I got him out, I tell you; his coat was almost stripped off when I rescued him."

"Why, Mr Slick," said the doctor, "what in the world took you to Bermuda?"

"Why," sais I, "I had heard a great deal about it. It is a beautiful spot and very healthy. It is all that has ever been said or sung of it, and more too, and that's sayin' a great deal, for most celebrated places disappoint you; you expect too much, and few crack parts of the world come up to the idea you form of them beforehand. Well, I went down there to see if there was anything to be done in the way of business, but it was too small a field for me, although I made a spec that paid me very well too. There is a pa.s.sage through the reefs there, and it's not every pilot knows it, but there was a ma.n.u.script chart of it made by a captain of a tradin' vessel. When he died his widow offered it to the government, but they hummed and hawed about the price, and was for gitting it for half nothing, as they always do.

So what does I do, but just steps in and buys it, for in war time it is of the greatest importance to know this pa.s.sage, and I sold it to our navy-board, and I think if ever we are at loggerheads with the British, we shall astonish the weak nerves of the folks at the summer islands some fine day.

"I had a charming visit. There are some magnificent caves there, and in that climate they are grand places, I do a.s.sure you. I never saw anything so beautiful. The ceiling is covered with splendiferous spary-like icicles, or chandelier drops. What do you call that word, Doctor?"

"Stalact.i.tes."

"Exactly, that's it, glorious stalact.i.tes reaching to the bottom and forming fluted pillars. In one of those caves where the water runs, the admiral floored over the bottom and gave a ball in it, and it was the most Arabian Night's entertainment kind of thing that I ever saw.

It looked like a diamond hall, and didn't it show off the Mudian galls to advantage, lick! I guess it did, for they are the handsomest Creoles in all creation. There is more substance in 'em than in the tropical ladies. I don't mean worldly (though that ain't to be sneered at, neither, by them that ain't got none themselves). When the people used to build small clippers there for the West Indian trade, cedar was very valuable, and a gall's fortune was reckoned, not by pounds, but by so many cedars. Now it is banana trees. But dear me, somehow or another we have drifted away down to Bermuda, we must stretch back again to the Nova Scotian coast east of Chesencook, or, like Jerry Boudrot, we shall be out of sight of land, and lost at sea."

On going up on the deck, my attention was naturally attracted to my new purchase, the Canadian horse.

"To my mind," said the doctor, "Jerry's knee action does not merit the extravagant praise you bestowed upon it. It is not high enough to please me."

"There you are wrong," sais I, "that's the mistake most people make.

It is not the height of the action, but the nature of it, that is to be regarded. A high-stepping horse pleases the eye more than the judgment. He seems to go faster than he does. There is not only power wasted in it, but it injures the foot. My idea is this; you may compare a man to a man, and a woman to a woman, for the two, including young and old, make the world. You see more of them and know more about 'em than horses, for you have your own structure to examine and compare them by, and can talk to them, and if they are of the feminine gender, hear their own account of themselves. They can speak, for they were not behind the door when tongues were given out, I can tell you.

The range of your experience is larger, for you are always with them, but how few hosses does a man own in his life. How few he examines, and how little he knows about other folk's beasts. They don't live with you, you only see them when you mount, drive, or visit the stable. They have separate houses of their own, and pretty buildings they are too in general, containin' about as much s.p.a.ce for sleepin'

as a berth on board a s.h.i.+p, and about as much ventilation too, and the poor critters get about as little exercise as pa.s.sengers, and are just about worth as much as they are when they land for a day's hard tramp.

Poor critters, they have to be on their taps most all the time.1 The Arab and the Canadian have the best horses, not only because they have the best breed, but because one has no stalls, and t'other has no stable treatment.

1 On their feet.

"Now in judging of a horse's action, I compare him not with other horses, but with animals of a different species. Did you ever know a fox stumble, or a cat make a false step? I guess not; but haven't you seen a bear when chased and tired go head over heels? A dog in a general way is a sure-footed critter, but he trips now and then, and if he was as big as a horse, would throw his rider sometimes. Now then I look to these animals, and I find there are two actions to be combined, the knee and the foot action. The fox and the cat bend the knee easy and supply, but don't arch 'em, and though they go near the ground, they don't trip. I take that then as a sort of standard. I like my beast, especially if he is for the saddle, to be said to trot like a fox. Now, if he lifts too high, you see, he describes half a circle, and don't go ahead as he ought, and then he pounds his frog into a sort of mortar at every step, for the h.o.r.n.y sh.e.l.l of a foot is just like one. Well then, if he sends his fore leg away out in front, and his hind leg away out behind like a hen scratchin' gravel, he moves more like an ox than anything else, and hainte sufficient power to fetch them home quick enough for fast movement. Then the foot action is a great point, I looked at this critter's tracks on the pasture and asked myself, Does he cut turf, or squash it flat? If he cuts it as a gardener does weeds with his spade, then good bye, Mr Jerry, you won't suit me, it's very well to dance on your toes, but it don't convene to travel on 'em, or you're apt to make somersets.

"Now, a neck is a valuable thing. We have two legs, two eyes, two hands, two ears, two nostrils, and so on, but we have only one neck, which makes it so easy to hang a fellow, or to break it by a chuck from your saddle; and besides, we can't mend it, as we do a leg or an arm. When it's broken it's done for; and what use is it if it's insured? The money don't go to you, but to your heirs, and half the time they wouldn't cry, except for decency sake, if you did break it.

Indeed, I knew a great man once, who got his neck broke, and all his friends said, for his own reputation, it was a pity he hadn't broke it ten years sooner. The Lord save me from such friends, I say. Fact is, a broken neck is only a nine days' wonder after all, and is soon forgotten.

"Now, the fox has the right knee action, and the leg is 'thar.' In the real knee movement, there is a peculiar spring, that must be seen to be known and valued, words don't give you the idea of it. It's like the wire end of a pair of galluses--oh, it's charming. It's down and off in a jiffy, like a gall's finger on a piano when she is doin'

chromatic runs. Fact is, if I am walking out, and see a critter with it, I have to stop and stare; and, Doctor, I will tell you a queer thing. Halt and look at a splendid movin' hoss, and the rider is pleased; he thinks half the admiration is for him, as rider and owner, and t'other half for his trotter. The gony's delighted, chirups his beast, gives him a sly touch up with the off heel, and shows him off to advantage. But stop and look at a woman, and she is as mad as a hatter. She don't care how much you look at her, as long as you don't stand still or turn your head round. She wouldn't mind slackin' her pace if you only attended to that.

"Now the fox has that special springy movement I speak of, and he puts his foot down flat, he bends the gra.s.s rather to him, than from him, if anything, but most commonly crumples it flat; but you never see it inclinin' in the line of the course he is runnin'--never. Fact is, they never get a hoist, and that is a very curious word, it has a very different meanin' at sea from what it has on land. In one case it means to haul up, in the other to fall down. The term 'look out' is just the same.

"A ca.n.a.l boat was once pa.s.sing through a narrow lock on the Erie line, and the captain hailed the pa.s.sengers and said, 'Look out.' Well, a Frenchman thinking something strange was to be seen, popt his head out, and it was cut off in a minute. 'Oh, mon Dieu!' said his comrade, 'dat is a very striking lesson in English. On land, look out means, open de window and see what you will see. On board ca.n.a.l boat it means, haul your head in, and don't look at nothin'.'

"Well, the worst hoist that I ever had was from a very high-actioned mare, the down foot slipped, and t'other was too high to be back in time for her to recover, and over both of us went kerlash in the mud.

I was skeered more about her than myself, lest she should git the skin of her knee cut, for to a knowing one's eye that's an awful blemish.

It's a long story to tell how such a blemish warn't the hoss's fault, for I'd rather praise than apologize for a critter any time. And there is one thing few-people knows. Let the cut come which way it will, the animal is never so safe afterwards. Nature's bandage, the skin, is severed, and that leg is the weakest.

"Well, as I was a sayin', Doctor, there is the knee action and the foot action, and then there is a third thing. The leg must be just thar."

"Where?" said the doctor.

"Thar," said I, "there is only one place for that, and that is 'thar,'

well forward at the shoulder-point, and not where it most commonly is, too much under the body--for if it's too far back he stumbles, or too forward he can't 'pick chips quick stick.' Doctor, I am a borin' of you, but the fact is, when I get a goin' 'talkin' hoss,' I never know where to stop. How much better tempered they are than half the women in the world, ain't they? and I don't mean to undervally the dear critters neither by no manner of means, and how much more sense they have than half the men either, after all their cracking and bragging!

How grateful they are for kindness, how attached to you they get. How willin' they are to race like dry dust in a thunder squall, till they die for you! I do love them, that is a fact, and when I see a feller a ill-usin' of one of 'em, it makes me feel as cross as two crooked gate-posts, I tell you.

"Indeed, a man that don't love a hoss is no man at all. I don't think he can be religious. A hoss makes a man humane and tender-hearted, teaches him to feel for others, to share his food, and be unselfish; to antic.i.p.ate wants and supply them; to be gentle and patient. Then the hoss improves him otherwise. He makes him rise early, attend to meal hours, and to be cleanly. He softens and improves the heart. Who is there that ever went into a stable of a morning, and his critter whinnered to him and played his ears back and forward, and turned his head affectionately to him, and lifted his fore-feet short and moved his tail, and tried all he could to express his delight, and say, 'Morning to you, master,' or when he went up to the manger and patted his neck, and the lovin' critter rubbed his head agin him in return, that didn't think within himself, well, after all, the hoss is a n.o.ble critter? I do love him. Is it nothin' to make a man love at all? How many fellers get more kicks than coppers in their life--have no home, n.o.body to love them and n.o.body to love, in whose breast all the affections are pent up, until they get unwholesome and want ventilation. Is it nothin' to such an unfortunate critter to be made a stable help? Why, it elevates him in the scale of humanity. He discovers at last he has a head to think and a heart to feel. He is a new man. Hosses warn't given to us, Doctor, to ride steeple-chases, or run races, or brutify a man, but to add new powers and lend new speed to him. He was destined for n.o.bler uses.

"Is it any wonder that a man that has owned old Clay likes to talk hoss? I guess not. If I was a gall I wouldn't have nothin' to say to a man that didn't love a hoss and know all about him. I wouldn't touch him with a pair of tongs. I'd scorn him as I would a n.i.g.g.e.r. Sportsmen breed pheasants to kill, and amature huntsmen shoot dear for the pleasure of the slaughter. The angler hooks salmon for the cruel delight he has in witnessing the strength of their dying struggles.

The black-leg gentleman runs his hoss agin time, and wins the race, and kills his n.o.ble steed, and sometimes loses both money and hoss, I wish to gracious he always did; but the rail hossman, Doctor, is a rail man, every inch of him, stock, lock, and barrel."

"Ma.s.sa," said Sorrow, who stood listenin' to me as I was warmin' on the subject. "Ma.s.sa, dis hoss will be no manner of remaginable use under de blessed light ob de sun."

"Why, Sorrow?"