The Clockmaker Part 8

"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 sh.o.r.es, 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 s.h.i.+pping, 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 s.h.i.+ngle; 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 n.i.g.g.e.rs 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, n.o.body'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 s.h.i.+ners. 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 sh.o.r.e, trade with? St. John.

Who does c.u.mberland 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 ca.n.a.ls of St. John are goin'

to cut off your Gulf Sh.o.r.e 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.

"'St. John MUST go ahead, at any rate; you MAY, if you choose, but you must exert yourselves, I tell you. If a man has only one leg, and wants to walk, he must get an artificial one. If you have no river, make a railroad, and that will supply its place.'

"'But,' says he, 'Mr. Slick, people say it never will pay in the world; they say it's as mad a scheme as the ca.n.a.l. 'Do they indeed?'

says I; 'send them to me then, and I'll fit the handle on to them in tu tu's. I say it will pay, and the best proof is, our folks will take tu thirds of the stock. Did you ever hear any one else but your folks, ax whether a dose of medicine would pay when it was given to save life? If that everlastin' long Erie ca.n.a.l can secure to New York the supply of that far off country, most t'other side of creation, surely a railroad of forty-five miles can give you the trade of the Bay of Fundy. A railroad will go from Halifax to Windsor, and make them one town, easier to send goods from one to t'other than from Governor Campbell's House to Admiral c.o.c.kburn's. A bridge makes a town, a river makes a town, a ca.n.a.l makes a town; but a railroad is bridge, river, thoroughfare, ca.n.a.l, all in one; what a whappin' large place that would make, wouldn't it? It would be the dandy, that's a fact. No, when you go back, take a piece of chalk, and the first dark night, write on every door in Halifax, in large letters--a railroad--and if they don't know the meanin' of it, says you "It's a Yankee word; if you'll go to Sam Slick, the Clockmaker" (the chap that fixed a Yankee handle on to a Halifax blade'--and I made him a sc.r.a.pe of my leg, as much as to say, That's you!) '"every man that buys a clock shall hear all about a railroad."'"

No. XVIII

The Grahamite and the Irish Pilot.

"I think," said I, "this is a happy country, Mr. Slick. The people are fortunately all of one origin; there are no national jealousies to divide, and no very violent politics to agitate them. They appear to be cheerful and contented, and are a civil, good-natured, hospitable race. Considering the unsettled state of almost every part of the world, I think I would as soon cast my lot in Nova Scotia as in any part I know of."

"It's a clever country, you may depend," said he, "a very clever country; full of mineral wealth, aboundin' in superior water privileges and n.o.ble harbours, a large part of it prime land, and it is in the very heart of the fisheries. But the folks put me in mind of a sect in our country they call the Grahamites; they eat no meat and no exciting food, and drink nothin' stronger than water. They call it Philosophy (and that is such a pretty word it has made fools of more folks than them afore now), but I call it tarnation nonsense.

I once travelled all through the State of Maine with one of them 'ere chaps. He was as thin as a whippin' post. His skin looked like a blown bladder arter some of the air had leaked out, kinder wrinkled and rumpled like, and his eye as dim as a lamp that's livin' on a short allowance of ile. He put me in mind of a pair of kitchen tongs, all legs, shaft and head, and no belly; a real gander-gutted lookin'

critter, as holler as a bamboo walkin' cane, and twice as yaller.

He actilly looked as if he had been picked off a rack at sea, and dragged through a gimlet hole. He was a lawyer. Thinks I, the Lord a ma.s.sy on your clients, you hungry, half-starved lookin' critter you, you'll eat 'em up alive as sure as the Lord made Moses. You are jist the chap to strain at a goat and swallow a camel, tank, shank and flank, all at a gulp.

"Well, when we came to an inn, and a beef steak was sot afore us for dinner, he'd say, 'Oh that is too good for me, it's too exciting; all fat meat is diseased meat, give me some bread and cheese.' 'Well,'

I'd say, 'I don't know what you call too good, but it ain't good enough for me, for I call it as tuf as laushong, and that will bear chawing all day. When I liquidate for my dinner, I like to get about the best that's goin', and I ain't a bit too well pleased if I don't.' Exciting indeed! thinks I. Lord, I should like to see you excited, if it was only for the fun of the thing. What a temptin'

lookin' critter you'd be among the gals, wouldn't you? Why, you look like a subject the doctor boys had dropped on the road arter they had dug you up, and had cut stick and run for it.

"Well, when tea came, he said the same thing, 'It's too exciting, give me some water, do; that's follorin' the law of natur'.' 'Well,'

says I, 'if that's the case, you ought to eat beef.' 'Why,' says he, 'how do you make out that 'ere proposition?' 'Why,' says I, 'if drinkin' water instead of tea is natur', so is eatin' gra.s.s accordin'

to natur'; now all flesh is gra.s.s, we are told, so you had better eat that and call it vegetable; like a man I once seed who fasted on fish on a Friday, and when he had none, whipped a leg o' mutton into the oven, and took it out fish. Says he, "It's 'changed PLAICE,' that's all," and "PLAICE" ain't a bad fish. The Catholics fast enough, gracious knows, but then they fast on a great rousin' big splendid salmon at two dollars and forty cents a pound, and lots of old Madeira to make it float light on the stomach; there's some sense in mortifying the appet.i.te arter that fas.h.i.+on, but plagy little in your way. No,' says I, 'friend, you may talk about natur' as you please; I've studied natur' all my life, and I vow if your natur' could speak out, it would tell you, it don't over half like to be starved arter that plan. If you know'd as much about the marks of the mouth as I do, you'd know that you have carniverous as well as graniverous teeth, and that natur' meant by that, you should eat most anything that 'ere door-keeper, your nose, would give a ticket to, to pa.s.s into your mouth. Father rode a race at New York course, when he was near hand to seventy--and that's more nor you'll do, I guess--and he eats as hearty as a turkey-c.o.c.k; and he never confined himself to water neither, when he could get anything convened him better. Says he, "Sam, grandfather Slick used to say there was an old proverb in Yorks.h.i.+re, 'A full belly makes a strong back,' and I guess if you try it, natur' will tell you so too." If ever you go to Connecticut, jist call into father's, and he'll give you a real right down genuine New England breakfast, and if that don't happify your heart, then my name's not Sam Slick. It will make you feel about among the stiffest, I tell you. It will blow your jacket out like a pig at sea. You'll have to shake a reef or two out of your waistban's and make good stowage, I guess, to carry it all under hatches. There's nothin' like a good pastur' to cover the ribs, and make the hide s.h.i.+ne, depend on't.'

"Now this Province is like that 'ere Grahamite lawyer's beef, it's too good for the folks that's in it; they either don't avail its value or won't use it, because work ain't arter their 'law of natur'.'

As you say they are quiet enough (there's worse folks than the Bluenoses, too, if you come to that), and so they had ought to be quiet, for they have nothin' to fight about. As for politics, they have nothin' to desarve the name; but they talk enough about it, and a plaguy sight of nonsense they do talk, too.

"Now with us the country is divided into two parties, of the mammouth breed--the INS and the OUTS, the ADMINISTRATION and the OPPOSITION.

But where's the administration here? Where's the war office, the Foreign Office and the Home Office? Where's the Secretary of the Navy? Where's the State Bank? Where's the Amba.s.sadors and Diplomatists (them are the boys to wind off a snarl of ravellins as slick as if it were on a reel), and where's that s.h.i.+p of State, fitted up all the way from the forecastle clean up to the starn-post, chock full of good snug berths, handsumly found and furnished, tier over tier, one above another, as thick as it can hold? That's a helm worth handlin', I tell you; I don't wonder that folks mutiny below, and fight on the decks above for it; it makes a plaguy uproar the whole time, and keeps the pa.s.sengers for everlastinly in a state of alarm for fear they'd do mischif by bustin' the b'iler, a-runnin'

aground, or gettin' foul of some other craft.

"This Province is better as it is, quieter and happier far; they have berths enough and big enough; they should be careful not to increase 'em; and if they were to do it over agin, perhaps they'd be as well with fewer. They have two parties here, the Tory party and the Opposition party, and both on 'em run to extremes. Them radicals, says one, are for levellin' all down to their own level, tho' not a peg lower; that's their gage, jist down to their own notch and no further; and they'd agitate the whole country to obtain that object, for if a man can't grow to be as tall as his neighbour, if he cuts a few inches off him why then they are both of one heighth. They are a most dangerous, disaffected people; they are eternally appealin' to the worst pa.s.sions of the mob. Well, says t'other, them aristocrats, they'll ruinate the country; they spend the whole revenue on themselves. What with bankers, councillors, judges, bishops and public officers, and a whole tribe of lawyers as hungry as hawks, and jist about as marciful, the country is devoured as if there was a flock of locusts a-feedin' on it. There's nothin' left for roads and bridges. When a chap sets out to canva.s.s, he's got to antagonize one side or t'other. If he hangs on to the powers that be, then he's a council man, he's for votin' large salaries, for doin' as the great people at Halifax tell him. He is a fool. If he is on t'other side, a-railin' at banks, judges, lawyers and such cattle, and bawlin' for what he knows he can't get, then he is a rogue. So that, if you were to listen to the weak and noisy critters on both sides, you'd believe the House of a.s.sembly was one half rogues and t'other half fools. All this arises from ignorance. IF THEY KNEW MORE OF EACH OTHER, I GUESS THEY'D LAY ASIDE ONE HALF THEIR FEARS AND ALL THEIR ABUSE. THE UPPER CLa.s.sES DON'T KNOW ONE HALF THE VIRTUE THAT'S IN THE MIDDLIN' AND LOWER CLa.s.sES; AND THEY DON'T KNOW ONE HALF THE INTEGRITY AND GOOD FEELIN' THAT'S IN THE OTHERS, AND BOTH ARE FOOLED AND GULLED BY THEIR OWN NOISY AND DESIGNIN' CHAMPIONS. Take any two men that are by the ears, they opinionate all they hear of each other, impute all sorts of onworthy motives, and misconstrue every act; let them see more of each other, and they'll find out to their surprise, that they have not only been lookin' through a magnifyin' gla.s.s that warn't very true, but a coloured one also, that changed the complexion and distorted the feature, and each one will think t'other a very good kind of chap, and like as not a plaguy pleasant one too.

"If I was axed which side was farthest from the mark in this Province, I vow I should be puzzled to say. As I don't belong to the country, and don't care a snap of my finger for either of 'em, I suppose I can judge better than any man in it, but I snore I don't think there's much difference. The popular side--I won't say patriotic, for we find in our steamboats a man who has a plaguy sight of property in his portmanter, is quite as anxious for its safety, as him that's only one pair of yarn stockings and a clean s.h.i.+rt, is for his'n--the popular side are not so well informed as t'other, and they have the misfortin' of havin' their pa.s.sions addressed more than their reason, therefore they are often out of the way, or rather led out of it and put astray by bad guides; well, t'other side have the prejudices of birth and education to dim their vision, and are alarmed to undertake a thing from the dread of ambush or open foes, that their guides are etarnally descryin' in the mist--AND BESIDE, POWER HAS A NATERAL TENDENCY TO CORPULENCY. As for them guides, I'd make short work of 'em if it was me.

"In the last war with Britain, the Const.i.tution frigate was close in once on the sh.o.r.es of Ireland, a-lookin' arter some marchant s.h.i.+ps, and she took on board a pilot; well, he was a deep, sly, twistical lookin' chap, as you e'enamost ever seed. He had a sort of dark, down look about him, and a lear out of the corner of one eye, like a horse that's goin' to kick. The captain guessed he read in his face, 'Well now, if I was to run this here Yankee right slap on a rock and bilge her, the King would make a man of me for ever.' So, says he to the first leftenant, 'Reeve a rope through that 'ere block at the tip eend of the fore yard, and clap a runnin' noose in it.' The leftenant did it as quick as wink, and came back, and says he, 'I guess it's done.' 'Now,' says the captain, 'look here, pilot; here's a rope you hain't seed yet, I'll jist explain the use of it to you in case you want the loan of it. If this here frigate, manned with our free and enlightened citizens, gets aground, I'll give you a ride on the slack of that 'ere rope, right up to that yard by the neck, by Gum.' Well, it rub'd all the writin' out of his face, as quick as spittin' on a slate takes a sum out, you may depend. Now, they should rig up a crane over the street door of the State house at Halifax, and when any of the pilots at either eend of the buildin', run 'em on the breakers on purpose, string 'em up like an onsafe dog. A sign of that 'ere kind, with 'A house of public entertainment,' painted under it, would do the business in less than no time. If it wouldn't keep the hawks out of the poultry yard, it's a pity; it would scare them out of a year's growth, that's a fact; if they used it once, I guess they wouldn't have occasion for it agin in a hurry; it would be like the aloe tree, and that bears fruit only once in a hundred years.

"If you want to know how to act any time, Squire, never go to books, leave them to gals and school boys; but go right off and cipher it out of natur', that's a sure guide; it will never deceive you, you may depend. For instance, 'what's that to me,' is a phrase so common that it shows it's a natural one, when people have no particular interest in a thing. Well, when a feller gets so warm on either side as never to use that phrase at all, watch him, that's all! keep your eye on him, or he'll walk right into you afore you know where you be.

If a man runs to me and says, 'Your fence is down,' 'Thank you,' says I, 'that's kind.' If he comes agin and says, 'I guess some stray cattle have broke into your short sarce garden,' I thank him agin; says I, 'Come now, this is neighbourly; but when he keeps etarnally tellin' me this thing of one sarvant, and that thing of another sarvant, hints that my friends ain't true, that my neighbours are inclined to take advantage of me, and that suspicious folks are seen about my place, I say to myself, what on airth makes this critter take such a wonderful interest in my affairs? I don't like to hear such tales; he's arter somethin' as sure as the world, if he warn't he'd say, 'What's that to me.' I never believe much what I hear said by a man's violent friend, or violent enemy. I want to hear what a disinterested man has to say. Now, as a disinterested man, I say if the members of the House of a.s.sembly, instead of raisin' up ghosts and hobgoblins to frighten folks with, and to show what swordsmen they be, a-cuttin' and a-thrustin' at those phantoms that only exist in their own brains, would turn to, heart and hand, and develop the resources of this fine country, facilitate the means of transport, promote its internal improvement, and encourage its foreign trade, they would make it the richest and greatest, as it now is one of the happiest sections of all America. I hope I may be skinned if they wouldn't--they would I swan."

No. XIX

The Clockmaker Quilts a Bluenose.

The descendants of Eve have profited little by her example. The curiosity of the fair s.e.x is still insatiable, and, as it is often ill directed, it frequently terminates in error. In the country this feminine propensity is troublesome to a traveller, and he who would avoid importunities would do well to announce at once, on his arrival at a c.u.mberland inn, his name and his business, the place of his abode and the length of his visit.

Our beautiful hostess, Mrs. Pugwash, as she took her seat at the breakfast table this morning, exhibited the example that suggested these reflections. She was struck with horror at our conversation, the latter part only of which she heard, and of course misapplied and misunderstood.

"She was run down by the President," said I, "and has been laid up for some time. Gulard's people have stripped her, in consequence of her making water so fast."

"Stripped whom?" said Mrs. Pugwash, as she suddenly dropped the teapot from her hand; "stripped whom--for heaven's sake tell me who it is?"

"The Lady Ogle," said I.

"Lady Ogle?" said she, "how horrid!"

"Two of her ribs were so broken as to require to be replaced with new ones."

"Two new ribs!" said she, "well I never heerd the beat of that in all my born days; poor critter, how she must have suffered."

"On examining her below the waist they found--"

"Examining her still lower," said she (all the pride of her s.e.x revolting at the idea of such an indecent exhibition), "you don't pretend to say they stripped her below the waist! What did the Admiral say? Did he stand by and see her handled in that way?"

"The Admiral, madam," said I, "did not trouble his head about it.