The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) - Thomas Chandler Haliburton (reading well txt) 📗
- Author: Thomas Chandler Haliburton
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Detain Him Long In This Country, Unless His Attention
Should Be Kept Fully Occupied By A Constant Change Of
Scene.
Mr. Slick Expressed To Me The Same Fear, And, Knowing
That I Had Been Talking Of Going To Scotland, Entreated
Me Not To Be Long Absent, For He Felt Convinced That As
Soon As He Should Be Left Alone, His Thoughts And Wishes
Would At Once Revert To America.
"I Will Try To Keep Him Up," Said He, "As Well As I Can,
But I Can't Do It Alone. If You Do Go, Don't Leave Us
Long. Whenever I Find Him Dull, And Can't Cheer Him Up
No How I Can Fix It, By Talk, Or Fun, Or Sight Seein' Or
Nothin', I Make Him Vexed, And That Excites Him, Stirs
Him Up With A Pot Stick, And Is Of Great Sarvice To Him.
I Don't Mean Actilly Makin' Him Wrathy In Airnest, But
Jist Rilin Of Him For His Own Good, By Pokin' A Mistake
At Him. I'll Shew You, Presently, How I Do It."
As Soon As Mr. Hopewell Rejoined Us, He Began To Inquire
Into The Probable Duration Of Our Visit To This Country,
And Expressed A Wish To Return, As Soon As Possible, To
Slickville.
"Come, Minister," Said Mr. Slick, Tapping Him On The
Shoulder, "As Father Used To Say, We Must 'Right About
Face' Now. When We Are At Home Let Us Think Of Home, When
We Are Here, Let Us Think Of This Place. Let Us Look
A-Head, Don't Let's Look Back, For We Can't See Nothin'
There."
"Indeed, Sam," Said He, With A Sad And Melancholy Air,
"It Would Be Better For Us All If We Looked Back Oftener
Than We Do. From The Errors Of The Past, We Might Rectify
Our Course For The Future. Prospective Sin Is Often
Clothed In Very Alluring Garments; Past Sin Appears In
All Its Naked Deformity. Looking Back, Therefore--"
"Is Very Well," Said Mr. Slick, "In The Way Of Preachin';
But Lookin' Back When You Can't See Nothin', As You Are
Now, Is Only A Hurtin' Of Your Eyes. I Never Hear That
Word, 'Lookin' Back,' That I Don't Think Of That Funny
Story Of Lot's Wife."
"Funny Story Of Lot's Wife, Sir! Do You Call That A
Funny Story, Sir?"
"I Do, Sir."
"You Do, Sir?"
"Yes, I Do, Sir; And I Defy You Or Any Other Man To Say
It Ain't A Funny Story."
"Oh Dear, Dear," Said Mr. Hopewell, "That I Should Have
Lived To See The Day When You, My Son, Would Dare To
Volume 2 Chapter 13 (Looking Back) Pg 173Speak Of A Divine Judgment As A Funny Story, And That
You Should Presume So To Address Me."
"A Judgment, Sir?"
"Yes, A Judgment, Sir."
"Do You Call The Story Of Lot's Wife A Judgment?"
"Yes, I Do Call The Story Of Lot's Wife A Judgment; A
Monument Of The Divine Wrath For The Sin Of Disobedience."
"What! Mrs. Happy Lot? Do You Call Her A Monument Of
Wrath? Well, Well, If That Don't Beat All, Minister. If
You Had A Been A-Tyin' Of The Night-Cap Last Night I
Shouldn't A Wondered At Your Talkin' At That Pace. But
To Call That Dear Little Woman, Mrs. Happy Lot, That
Dancin', Laughin' Tormentin', Little Critter, A Monument
Of Wrath, Beats All To Immortal Smash."
"Why Who Are You A-Talkin' Of, Sam?"
"Why, Mrs. Happy Lot, The Wife Of The Honourable Cranbery
Lot, Of Umbagog, To Be Sure. Who Did You Think I Was
A-Talkin' Of?"
"Well, I Thought You Was A-Talkin' Of--Of--Ahem--Of
Subjects Too Serious To Be Talked Of In That Manner; But
I Did You Wrong, Sam; I Did You Injustice. Give Me Your
Hand, My Boy. It's Better For Me To Mistake And Apologize,
Than For You To Sin And Repent. I Don't Think I Ever
Heard Of Mr. Lot, Of Umbagog, Or Of His Wife Either. Sit
Down Here, And Tell Me The Story, For 'With Thee Conversing,
I Forget All Time.'"
"Well, Minister," Said Mr. Slick, "I'll Tell You The Ins
And Outs Of It; And A Droll Story It Is Too. Miss Lot
Was The Darter Of Enoch Mosher, The Rich Miser Of Goshen;
As Beautiful A Little Critter Too, As Ever Slept In
Shoe-Leather. She Looked For All The World Like One Of
The Paris Fashion Prints, For She Was A Parfect Pictur',
That's A Fact. Her Complexion Was Made Of White And Red
Roses, Mixed So Beautiful, You Couldn't Tell Where The
White Eended, Or The Red Begun, Natur' Had Used The
Blendin' Brush So Delicate. Her Eyes Were Screw Augurs,
I Tell _You_; They Bored Right Into Your Heart, And Kinder
Agitated You, And Made Your Breath Come And Go, And Your
Pulse Flutter. I Never Felt Nothin' Like 'Em. When Lit
Up, They Sparkled Like Lamp Reflectors; And At Other
Tunes, They Was As Soft, And Mild, And Clear As Dew-Drops
That Hang On The Bushes At Sun-Rise. When She Loved,
She Loved; And When She Hated, She Hated About The
Wickedest You Ever See. Her Lips Were Like Heart Cherries
Of The Carnation Kind; So Plump, And Fall, And Hard, You
Volume 2 Chapter 13 (Looking Back) Pg 174Felt As If You Could Fall To And Eat 'Em Right Up. Her
Voice Was Like A Grand Piany, All Sorts O' Power In It;
Canary-Birds' Notes At One Eend, And Thunder At T'other,
Accordin' To The Humour She Was In, For She Was A'most
A Grand Bit Of Stuff Was Happy, She'd Put An Edge On A
Knife A'most. She Was A Rael Steel. Her Figur' Was As
Light As A Fairy's, And Her Waist Was So Taper And Tiny,
It Seemed Jist Made For Puttin' An Arm Round In Walkin'.
She Was As Ac_Tive_ And Springy On Her Feet As A Catamount,
And Near About As Touch Me-Not A Sort Of Customer Too.
She Actilly Did Seem As If She Was Made Out Of Steel
Springs And Chicken-Hawk. If Old Cran, Was To Slip Off
The Handle, I Think I Should Make Up To Her, For She Is
'A Salt,' That's A Fact, A Most A Heavenly Splice.
"Well, The Honourable Cranbery Lot Put In For Her, Won
Her, And Married Her. A Good Speculation It Turned Out
Too, For He Got The Matter Of One Hundred Thousand Of
Dollars By Her, If He Got A Cent. As Soon As They Were
Fairly Welded, Off They Sot To Take The Tour Of Europe,
And They Larfed And Cried, And Kissed And Quarrelled,
And Fit And Made Up All Over The Continent, For Her Temper
Was As Onsartain As The Climate Here--Rain One Minit
And Sun The Next; But More Rain Nor Sun.
"He Was A Fool, Was Cranbery. He Didn't Know How To Manage
Her. His Bridle Hand Warn't Good, I Tell You. A Spry,
Mettlesome Hoss, And A Dull Critter With No Action, Don't
Mate Well In Harness, That's A Fact.
"After Goin' Every Where, And Every Where Else Amost,
Where Should They Get To But The Alps. One Arternoon, A
Sincerely Cold One It Was Too, And The Weather, Violent
Slippy, Dark Overtook Them Before They Reached The Top
Of One Of The Highest And Steepest Of Them Mountains,
And They Had To Spend The Night At A Poor Squatter's
Shanty.
"Well, Next Mornin', Jist At Day-Break, And Sun-Rise On
Them Everlastin' Hills Is Tall Sun-Rise, And No Mistake,
P'rhaps Nothin Was Ever Seen So Fine Except The First
One, Since Creation. It Takes The Rag Off Quite. Well,
She Was An Enterprisin' Little Toad, Was Miss Lot Too,
Afeered Of Nothin' A'most; So Nothin' Would Sarve Her
But She Must Out And Have A Scramb Up To The Tip-Topest
Part Of The Peak Afore Breakfast.
"Well, The Squatter There, Who Was A Kind O' Guide, Did
What He Could To Dispersuade Her, But All To No Purpose;
Go She Would, And A Headstrong Woman And A Runaway Hoss
Are Jist Two Things It's Out Of All Reason To Try To
Stop; The Only Way Is To Urge 'Em On, And Then, Bein'
Contr_Ary_ By Natur', They Stop Of Themselves.
Volume 2 Chapter 13 (Looking Back) Pg 175
"'Well,' Sais The Guide, 'If You Will Go, Marm, Do Take
This Pike Staff, Marm,' Sais He; (A Sort Of Walkin'-Stick
With A Spike To The Eend Of It), 'For You Can't Get Either
Up Or Down Them Slopes Without It, It Is So Almighty
Slippy There.' So She Took The Staff, And Off She Sot
And Climbed And Climbed Ever So Far, Till She Didn't Look
No Bigger Than A Snowbird.
"At Last She Came To A Small Flat Place, Like A Table,
And Then She Turned Round To Rest, Get Breath, And Take
A Look At The Glorious View; And Jist As She Hove-To, Up
Went Her Little Heels, And Away Went Her Stick, Right
Over A Big Parpendicular Cliff, Hundreds And Hundreds,
And Thousands Of Feet Deep. So Deep, You Couldn't See
The Bottom For The Shadows, For The Very Snow Looked
Black Down There. There Is No Way In, It Is So Steep,
But Over The Cliff; And No Way Out, But One, And That
Leads To T'other World. I Can't Describe It To You,
Though. I Have See'd It Since Myself. There Are Some
Things Too Big To Lift; Some, Too Big To Carry After They
Be Lifted; And Some Too Grand For The Tongue To Describe
Too. There's A Notch Where Dictionary Can't Go No Farther,
As Well As Every Other Created Thing, That's A Fact.
P'rhaps If I Was To Say It Looked Like The Mould That
That 'Are Very Peak Was Cast In, Afore It Was Cold And
Stiff, And Sot Up On Eend, I Should Come As Near The Mark
As Any Thing I Know On.
"Well Away She Slid, Feet And Hands Out, All Flat On Her
Face, Right Away, Arter Her Pike Staff. Most People Would
Have Ginn It Up As Gone Goose, And Others Been So Frightened
As Not To Do Any Thing At All; Or At Most Only Jist To
Think Of A Prayer, For There Was No Time To Say One.
"But Not So Lot's 'Wife. She Was Of A Conquerin' Natur'.
She Never Gave Nothin' Up, Till She Couldn't Hold On No
Longer. She Was One O' Them Critters That Go To Bed
Mistress, And Rise Master; And Just As She Got To The
Edge Of The Precipice, Her Head Hangin' Over, And Her
Eyes Lookin' Down, And She All But Ready To Shoot Out
And Launch Away Into Bottomless Space, The Ten Commandments
Brought Her Right Short Up. Oh, She Sais, The Sudden Joy
Of That Sudden
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