The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) - Thomas Chandler Haliburton (reading well txt) 📗
- Author: Thomas Chandler Haliburton
Book online «The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) - Thomas Chandler Haliburton (reading well txt) 📗». Author Thomas Chandler Haliburton
Sight Better Nor This. See What The Little Admiral Critter
Is About! Why He Is A Stampin' And A Jabbin' Of The Iron
Heel Of His Boot Into The Lifeless Body Of A Fallen Foe!
It's Horrid Disgustin', And Ain't Overly Brave Nother;
And To Make Matters Wus, As If This Warn't Bad Enough,
Them Four Emblem Figures, Have Great Heavy Iron Chains
On 'Em, And A Great Enormous Sneezer Of A Lion Has One
Part O' The Chain In Its Mouth, And Is A-Growlin' And
A-Grinnin' And A-Snarling At 'Em Like Mad, As Much As To
Say, 'If You Dare To Move The Sixteen Hundredth Part Of
An Inch, I Will Fall To And Make Mincemeat Of You, In
Less Than Half No Time. I Don't Think There Never Was
Nothin' So Bad As This, Ever Seen Since The Days Of Old
Daddy Adam Down To This Present Blessed Day, I Don't
Indeed. So Don't Come For To Go, Squire, To Tarnt Me With
The Eagle And The Anchor No More, For I Don't Like It A
Bit; You'd Better Look To Your '_Nelson Monument_' And
Let Us Alone. So Come Now!"
Amidst Much That Was Coarse, And More That Was Exaggerated,
There Was Still Some Foundation For The Remarks Of The
Attache.
"You Arrogate A Little Too Much To Yourselves," I Observed,
"In Considering The United States As All America. At The
Time These Brilliant Deeds Were Achieved, Which This
Monument Is Intended To Commemorate, The Spaniards Owned
A Very Much Greater Portion Of The Transatlantic Continent
Than You Now Do, And Their Navy Composed A Part Of The
Hostile Fleets Which Were Destroyed By Lord Nelson. At
That Time, Also, You Had No Navy, Or At All Events, So
Few Ships, As Scarcely To Deserve The Name Of One; Nor
Had You Won For Yourselves That High Character, Which
You Now So Justly Enjoy, For Skill And Gallantry. I Agree
With You, However, In Thinking The Monument Is In Bad
Taste. The Name Of Lord Nelson Is Its Own Monument. It
Will Survive When These Perishable Structures, Which The
Pride Or The Gratitude Of His Countrymen Have Erected To
Perpetuate His Fame, Shall Have Mouldered Into Dust, And
Been Forgotten For Ever. If Visible Objects Are Thought
Necessary To Suggest The Mention Of His Name Oftener That
It Would Otherwise Occur To The Mind, They Should Be Such
As To Improve The Taste, As Well As Awaken The Patriotism
Of The Beholder. As An American, There Is Nothing To
Which You Have A Right To Object, But As A Critic, I
Admit That There Is Much That You Cannot Approve In The
'_Nelson Monument_.'"
Volume 1 Chapter 11 (Cottages) Pg 56
On The Tenth Day After We Landed At Liverpool, We Arrived
In London And Settled Ourselves Very Comfortably In
Lodgings At No. 202, Piccadilly, Where Every Possible
Attention Was Paid To Us By Our Landlord And His Wife,
Mr. And Mrs. Weeks. We Performed The Journey In A
Post-Chaise, Fearing That The Rapid Motion Of A Rail Car
Might Have An Unpleasant Effect Upon The Health Of Mr.
Hope Well.
Of The Little Incidents Of Travel That Occurred To Us,
Or Of The Various Objects Of Attraction On The Route, It
Is Not My Intention To Give Any Account. Our Journey Was
Doubtless Much Like The Journeys Of Other People, And
Every Thing Of Local Interest Is To Be Found In Guide
Books, Or Topographical Works, Which Are Within The Reach
Of Every Body.
This Book, However Imperfect Its Execution May Be, Is
Altogether Of Another Kind. I Shall Therefore Pass Over
This And Other Subsequent Journeys, With No Other Remark,
Than That They Were Performed, Until Something Shall
Occur Illustrative Of The Objects I Have In View.
On This Occasion I Shall Select From My Diary A Description
Of The Labourer's Cottage, And The Parish Church; Because
The One Shews The Habits, Tastes, And Condition Of The
Poor Of This Country, In Contrast With That Of America--And
The Other, The Relative Means Of Religious Instruction,
And Its Effect On The Lower Orders.
On The Saturday Morning, While Preparing To Resume Our
Journey, Which Was Now Nearly Half Completed, Mr. Hopewell
Volume 1 Chapter 11 (Cottages) Pg 57Expressed A Desire To Remain At The Inn Where We Were,
Until The Following Monday. As The Day Was Fine, He Said
He Should Like To Ramble About The Neighbourhood, And
Enjoy The Fresh Air. His Attention Was Soon Drawn To Some
Very Beautiful New Cottages.
"These," Said He, "Are No Doubt Erected At The Expense,
And For The Gratification Of Some Great Landed Proprietor.
They Are Not The Abodes Of Ordinary Labourers, But Designed
For Some Favoured Dependant Or Aged Servant. They Are
Expensive Toys, But Still They Are Not Without Their Use.
They Diffuse A Taste Among The Peasantry--They Present
Them With Models, Which, Though They Cannot Imitate In
Costliness Of Material Or Finish, They Can Copy In
Arrangement, And In That Sort Of Decoration, Which Flowers,
And Vines, And Culture, And Care Can Give. Let Us Seek
One Which Is Peculiarly The Poor Man's Cottage, And Let
Us Go In And See Who And What They Are, How They Live,
And Above All, How They Think And Talk. Here Is A Lane,
Let Us Follow It, Till We Come To A Habitation."
We Turned Into A Grass Road, Bounded On Either Side By
A High Straggling Thorn Hedge. At Its Termination Was An
Irregular Cottage With A Thatched Roof, Which Projected
Over The Windows In Front. The Latter Were Latticed With
Diamond-Shaped Panes Of Glass, And Were Four In Number,
One On Each Side Of The Door And Two Just Under The Roof.
The Door Was Made Of Two Transverse Parts, The Upper Half
Of Which Was Open. On One Side Was A Basket-Like Cage
Containing A Magpie, And On The Other, A Cat Lay Extended
On A Bench, Dozing In The Warmth Of The Sun. The Blue
Smoke, Curling Upwards From A Crooked Chimney, Afforded
Proof Of Some One Being Within.
We Therefore Opened A Little Gate, And Proceeded Through
A Neat Garden, In Which Flowers And Vegetables Were
Intermixed. It Had A Gay Appearance From The Pear, Apple,
Thorn And Cherry Being All In Full Bloom. We Were Received
At The Door By A Middle-Aged Woman, With The Ruddy Glow
Of Health On Her Cheeks, And Dressed In Coarse, Plain,
But Remarkably Neat And Suitable, Attire. As This Was A
Cottage Selected At Random, And Visited Without Previous
Intimation Of Our Intention, I Took Particular Notice Of
Every Thing I Saw, Because I Regarded Its Appearance As
A Fair Specimen Of Its Constant And Daily State.
Mr. Hopewell Needed No Introduction. His Appearance Told
What He Was. His Great Stature And Erect Bearing, His
Intelligent And Amiable Face, His Noble Forehead, His
Beautiful Snow-White Locks, His Precise And Antique Dress,
His Simplicity Of Manner, Every Thing, In Short, About
Him, At Once Attracted Attention And Conciliated Favour.
Mrs. Hodgins, For Such Was Her Name, Received Us With
Volume 1 Chapter 11 (Cottages) Pg 58That Mixture Of Respect And Ease, Which Shewed She Was
Accustomed To Converse With Her Superiors. She Was
Dressed In A Blue Homespun Gown, (The Sleeves Of Which
Were Drawn Up To Her Elbows And The Lower Part Tucked
Through Her Pocket-Hole,) A Black Stuff Petticoat, Black
Stockings And Shoes With The Soles More Than Half An Inch
Thick. She Wore Also, A Large White Apron, And A Neat
And By No Means Unbecoming Cap. She Informed Us Her
Husband Was A Gardener's Labourer, That Supported His
Family By His Daily Work, And By The Proceeds Of The
Little Garden Attached To The House, And Invited Us To
Come In And Sit Down.
The Apartment Into Which The Door Opened, Was A Kitchen
Or Common Room. On One Side, Was A Large Fire-Place,
The Mantel-Piece Or Shelf, Of Which Was Filled With Brass
Candlesticks, Large And Small, Some Queer Old-Fashioned
Lamps, Snuffers And Trays, Polished To A Degree Of
Brightness, That Was Dazzling. A Dresser Was Carried
Round The Wall, Filled With Plates And Dishes, And
Underneath Were Exhibited The Ordinary Culinary Utensils,
In Excellent Order. A Small Table Stood Before The Fire,
With A Cloth Of Spotless Whiteness Spread Upon It, As If
In Preparation For A Meal. A Few Stools Completed The
Furniture.
Passing Through This Place, We Were Shewn Into The Parlour,
A Small Room With A Sanded Floor. Against The Sides Were
Placed Some Old, Dark, And Highly Polished Chairs, Of
Antique Form And Rude Workmanship. The Walls Were Decorated
With Several Coloured Prints, Illustrative Of The Pilgrim's
Progress And Hung In Small Red Frames Of About Six Inches
Square. The Fire-Place Was Filled With Moss, And Its
Mantel-Shelf Had Its China Sheep And Sheperdesses, And
A Small Looking-Glass, The Whole Being Surmounted By A
Gun Hung Transversely. The Lord's Prayer And The Ten
Commandments Worked In Worsted, Were Suspended In A Wooden
Frame Between The Windows, Which Had White Muslin Blinds,
And Opened On Hinges, Like A Door. A Cupboard Made To
Fit The Corner, In A Manner To Economise Room, Was Filled
With China Mugs, Cups And Saucers Of Different Sizes And
Patterns, Some Old Tea-Spoons And A Plated Tea-Pot.
There Was A Small Table Opposite To The Window, Which
Contained Half A Dozen Books. One Of These Was Large,
Handsomely Bound, And Decorated With Gilt Edged Paper.
Mr. Hopewell Opened It, And Expressed Great Satisfaction
At Finding Such An Edition Of A Bible In Such A House.
Mrs. Hodgins Explained That This Was A Present From Her
Eldest Son, Who Had Thus Appropriated His First Earnings
To The Gratification Of His Mother.
"Creditable To You Both, Dear," Said Mr. Hopewell: "To
You, Because It Is A Proof How Well You Have Instructed
Volume 1 Chapter 11 (Cottages) Pg 59Him; And To Him, That He So Well Appreciated And So
Faithfully
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