MONSIEUR VIOLET (FISCLE PART-IV) - FREDERICK MARRYAT (books to read this summer txt) 📗
- Author: FREDERICK MARRYAT
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General Debility, Dyspepsia, And Cutaneous Complaints. At A Few Yards
From The Hot Springs Is One Strongly Sulphuric And Remarkable For Its
Coldness. In the Wild And Mountain Scenery Of This Lonely Region, There
Is Much Of Grandeur And Novelty To Fix The Curiosity Of The Lover
Of Nature."
The Next Morning I Bade Farewell To Finn And Boone, And Set Off On My
Journey. I Could Not Help Feeling a Strange Sensation Of Loneliness, As
I Passed hill After Hill, And Wood After Wood. It Seemed to Me As If
Something Was Wrong; I Talked to Myself, And Often Looked behind To See
If Any One Was Coming My Way. This Feeling, However, Did Not Last Long,
And I Soon Learned that, West Of The Mississippi, A Man With A Purse And
A Good Horse Must Never Travel In the Company Of Strangers, Without He
Is Desirous To Lose Them And His Life To Boot.
I Rode Without Stopping The Forty-Five Miles Of Dreary Road Which Leads
From The Hot Springs To Little Rock, And I Arrived in that Capital
Early At Noon.
Foreigners Are Constantly Visiting Every Part Of The United states, And
Yet Very Few, If Any, Have Ever Visited the Arkansas. They Seem All To
Be Frightened away By The Numerous Stories Of Arkansas Murders, With
Which A Tourist Is Always Certain To Be Entertained on Board One Of The
Mississippi Steam-Boats. Undoubtedly These Reports Of Murders And
Atrocities Have Been, As All Things Else Are In the United states, Much
Exaggerated, But None Can Deny That The Assizes Of Arkansas Contain More
Cases Of Stabbing and Shooting Than Ten Of The Other States
Put Together.
The Very Day I Arrived at Little Rock I Had An Opportunity Of Witnessing
Two Or Three Of These Arkansas Incidents, And Also To Hear The Comments
Made Upon Them. Legislature Was Then Sitting. Two Of The Legislators
Happened to Be Of A Contrary Opinion, And Soon Abused each Other. From
Words They Came To Blows, And One Shot The Other With One Of Colt'S
Revolving Six-Barrel Pistols. This Event Stopped legislative Business
For That Day; The Corpse Was Carried to The Tavern Where I Had Just
Arrived, And The Murderer, Having Procured bail For Two Thousand
Dollars, Ran Away During The Night, And Nobody Ever Thought Of
Searching For Him.
The Corpse Proved to Be A Bonus For My Landlord, Who Had It Deposited in
A Room Next To The Bar, And As The News Spread, All The Male Population
Of Little Rock Came In crowds To See With Their Own Eyes, And To Give
Their Own Opinion Of The Case Over A Bottle Of Wine Or A Glass
Of Whisky.
Being Tired, I Went To Bed early, And Was Just Dozing, In spite Of The
Loud Talking and Swearing Below, When I Heard Five Or Six Shots Fired in
Rapid Succession, And Followed by Yells And Screams. I Got Up And
Stopped a Negro Girl, As She Was Running Up-Stairs, A Picture Of Terror
And Despair.
"What Is The Matter, Blackey?" Said I, "Are They Shooting In the Bar?"
"Oh, Yes, Massa," She Answered, "They Shoot Terrible. Dr. Francis Says,
Dr. Grey Is A Blackguard; Dr. Grey Says, Dr. Francis Is A Ruffian; Dr.
Francis Shoots With Big Pistols And Kills Dr. Grey; Dr. Grey Shoots With
Other Pistols And Kills Dr. Francis."
"What," I Exclaimed, "After He Was Dead?"
"Oh No, Massa, Before He Was Dead; They Shoot Together--Pan, Pan, Pan."
I Went Downstairs To Ascertain The Circumstances Attending This Double
Murder. A Coroner'S Inquest Had Been Held Upon The Body Of The
Legislator Killed in the Morning, And The Two Surgeons, Who Had Both
Drunk Freely At The Bar, Had Quarrelled about The Direction Which The
Ball Had Taken. As They Did Not Agree, They Came To Words; From Words To
Blows; Ending In the Grand _Finale_ Of Shooting Each Other.
I Was So Sickened and Disgusted with The Events Of One Day, That I Paid
My Bill, Saddled my Horse Myself, And Got A Man To Ferry Me Over The
Arkansas River, A Noble, Broad, And Rapid Stream, On The Southern Bank
Of Which The Capital Is Situated. I Rode Briskly For A Short Hour, And
Camped in the Woods Alone, Preferring Their Silence And Dreariness To
Remaining To Witness, Under A Roof, Further Scenes Of Bloodshed
And Murder.
North Of The Arkansas River, The Population, Though Rough And "Not
Better Than It Should Be," Is Less Sanguinary And Much More Hospitable;
That Is To Say, A Landlord Will Show You Civility For Your Money, And In
Batesville, A City (Fifty Houses, I Think) Upon The Northern Bank Of The
White River, I Found Thirty Generals, Judges, And Majors, Who
Condescended to Show Me Every Bar In the Place, Purchasing Sundry Dozens
Of Havannahs And Drinking Sundry Long Toasts In iced wine, Which Wine
And Tobacco, Although Ordered and Consumed by Themselves, They Left Me
To Pay For, Which I Was Willing To Do, As I Was Informed that These
Gentlemen Always Refrain From Paying anything When A Stranger Is
Present, From Fear Of Wounding His Delicacy.
It Was In batesville That I Became Enlightened as To The Western Paper
Currency, Which Was Fortunate, As I Purchased one Hundred and Forty
Dollars In "Shin Plasters," As They Call Them, For An English Sovereign;
And For My Travelling Expenses They Answered just As Well. In the White
River Ferry-Boat I Met With One Of Those Itinerant Italian Pedlars, Who
Are Found, I Think, Everywhere Under Heaven, Selling Pins, Needles, And
Badly-Coloured engravings, Representing all The Various Passages Of
William Tell'S History, And The Combats During The "Three Days" In 1830.
Although Not A Refined companion, The Genevese Spoke Italian, And I Was
Delighted to Converse In that Soft Tongue, Not A Word Of Which I Had
Spoken Since The Death Of Prince Seravalle. I Invited my Companion To
The Principal Tavern, And Called at The Bar For Two Tumblers Of
Iced-Mint Tulip.
"How Much?" I Asked from The Bar-Keeper.
"Five Dollars," He Answered.
I Was Quite Thunderstruck, And, Putting My Money Back In my Pocket, I
Told Him I Would Not Pay Him At All. The Man Then Began To Swear I Was A
Queer Sort Of A Chap, And Wondered how A _Gentleman_ Could Drink At A
Bar And Not Pay For His Liquor.
"I Always Pay," I Answered, "What Others Pay; But I Will Not Submit To
Such A Swindling, And Give Five Dollars For What Is Only Worth
Twenty-Five Cents."
The Host Then Came To Me, With A Smile.
"Why, Sir, We Don'T Charge More To You Than To Others. Five Dollars In
'Shin-Plasters,' Or Twenty-Five Cents In specie."
All Was Thus Explained, And The Next Morning. I Satisfied my Bill Of
Twenty-Two Dollars, With One Dollar And Twelve Cents In silver.
This May Appear Strange To The English Reader, Who Prefers Bank-Notes To
Gold; But He Must Reflect That England Is Not Arkansas, And That The
Bank Of England Is Not The "Real Estate Bank Of Arkansas," Capital Two
Millions Of Dollars.
Notwithstanding The Grandeur Of The Last Five Words, I Have Been
Positively Informed that The Bank Never Possessed five Dollars, And Had
Not Been Able To Pay The Poor Cincinnati Engraver Who Made The Notes.
The Merchants Of Little Rock, Who Had Set Up The Bank, Were The Usual
Purchasers Of The Produce From The Farmer; But The Credit Of The Bank
Was So Bad, That They Were Obliged to Offer Three Dollars In their Notes
For A Bushel Of Wheat, Which, In new York, Commanded only Eighty-Four
Cents In specie.
The Farmers, However, Were As Sharp As The Merchants, And, Compelled to
Deal With Them, They Hit Upon A Good Plan. The Principal Landholders Of
Every County Assembled, And Agreed that They Would Also Have A Farmers'
Bank, And A Few Months Afterwards The Country Was Inundated with Notes
Of Six-And-A-Quarter, Twelve-And-A-Half, Twenty-Five, And Fifty Cents,
With The Following Inscription: "We, The Freeholders And Farmers Of Such
County, Promise To Pay (So Much) In real Estate Bank Of Arkansas Notes,
But Not Under The Sum Of Five Dollars."
The Bankers Were Caught In their Own Snares. They Were Obliged to Accept
The "Shin Plasters" For The Goods In their Stores, With The Pleasing
Perspective Of Being Paid Back With Their Own Notes, Which Made Their
Faces As Doleful As The Apothecary Who Was Obliged to Swallow His
Own Pills.
Chapter XXXVIFrom Batesville To The Southern Missouri Border, The Road Continues For
A Hundred miles Through A Dreary Solitude Of Rocky Mountains And Pine
Forests, Full Of Snakes And A Variety Of Game, But Without The Smallest
Vestige Of Civilization. There Is Not A Single Blade Of Grass To Be
Found, Except In the Hollows, And These Are Too Swampy For A Horse To
Venture Upon. Happily, Small Clear And Limpid Brooks Are Passed every
Half-Hour, And I Had Had The Precaution To Provide Myself, At A Farm,
With A Large Bag Of Maize For My Horse. After All, We Fared better Than
We Should Have Done At The Log Huts, And My Faithful Steed, At All
Events, Escaped the "Ring." What The "Ring" Is, I Will Explain To
The Reader.
In These Countries, It Always Requires A Whole Day'S Smart Riding To Go
From One Farm To Another; And When The Traveller Is A "Raw Trotter" Or A
"Green One" (Arkansas Denomination For A Stranger), The Host Employs All
His Cunning To Ascertain If His Guest Has Any Money, As, If So, His
Object Is To Detain Him As Long As He Can. To Gain This Information,
Although There Are Always At Home Half-A-Dozen Strong Boys To Take The
Horses, He Sends A Pretty Girl (A Daughter, Or A Niece) To Show You The
Stable And The Maize-Store. This Nymph Becomes The Traveller'S
Attendant; She Shows Him The Garden And The Pigs, And The Stranger'S
Bedroom, &C. The Consequence Is, That The Traveller Becomes Gallant, The
Girl Insists Upon Washing His Handkerchief And Mending His Jacket Before
He Starts The Next Morning, And By Keeping Constantly With Him, And
Continual Conversation, She Is, Generally Speaking, Able To Find Out
Whether The Traveller Has Money Or Not, And Reports Accordingly.
Having Supped, Slept, And Breakfasted, He Pays His Bill And Asks For His
Horse.
"Why, Sir," Answers The Host, "Something Is Wrong With The Animal--He Is
Lame."
The Traveller Thinks It Is Only A Trifle; He Starts, And Discovers,
Before He Has Made A Mile, That His Beast Cannot Possibly Go On; So He
Returns To The Farm, And Is There Detained, For A Week Perhaps, Until
His Horse Is Fit To Travel.
I Was Once Cheated in this Very Manner, And Had No Idea That I Had Been
Tricked; But, On Leaving another Farm, On The Following Day, I Found My
Horse Was Again Lame. Annoyed at Having Been Delayed so Long, I
Determined to Go On, In spite Of My Horse'S Lameness. I Travelled on For
Three Miles, Till At Last I Met With An Elderly Man Also On Horseback.
He Stopped and Surveyed me Attentively, And Then Addressed me:--
"I See Youngster, You Are A Green One."
Now I Was In uncommon Bad Temper That Morning, And I Answered his
Question With A "What Do You Mean, You Old Fool?"
"Nay, Pardon Me," He Resumed; "I Would Not Insult A Stranger. I Am
Governor Yell, Of This State, And I See That Some Of My 'Clever
Citizens' Have Been Playing a Trick Upon You. If You Will Allow Me, I
Will Cure The Lameness Of Your Horse In two Minutes."
At The Mention Of His Name, I Knew I Was Speaking To A Gentleman. I
Apologized for My Rough Rejoinder, And The Governor, Dismounting, Then
Explained to Me The Mystery Of The "Ring." Just Above My Horse'S Hoof,
And Well Concealed under The Hair, Was A Stout Silken Thread, Tied very
Tight; This Being Cut, The Horse, In a Moment, Got Rid Of His Lameness.
As The Governor And I Parted, He Gave Me This Parental Advice:--
"My Dear Young Man," Said He, "I Will Give You A Hint, Which Will Enable
You To Travel
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