The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) by Thomas Chandler Haliburton (best reads txt) 📖
- Author: Thomas Chandler Haliburton
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Lord Love You! If You Was To Write Like Scott, And Map
The Human Mind Like Bacon, Would It Advance You A Bit In
Prefarment? Not It. They Have Done Enough For The Colonists,
They Have Turned 'Em Upside Down, And Given 'Em Responsible
Government? What More Do The Rascals Want? Do They Ask
To Be Made Equal To Us? No, Look At Their Social System,
And Their Political System, And Tell 'Em Your Opinion
Like A Man. You Have Heard Enough Of Their Opinions Of
Colonies, And Suffered Enough From Their Erroneous Ones
Too. You Have Had Durham Reports, And Commissioners'
Reports, And Parliament Reports Till Your Stomach Refuses
Any More On 'Em. And What Are They? A Bundle Of Mistakes
And Misconceptions, From Beginnin' To Eend. They Have
Travelled By Stumblin', And Have Measured Every Thing By
The Length Of Their Knee, As They Fell On The Ground, As
A Milliner Measures Lace, By The Bendin' Down Of The
Forefinger--Cuss 'Em! Turn The Tables On 'Em. Report On
_Them_, Measure _Them_, But Take Care To Keep Your Feet
Though, Don't Be Caught Trippin', Don't Make No Mistakes.
"Then We'll Go To The Lords' House--I Don't Mean To
Meetin' House, Though We Must Go There Too, And Hear Me
Neil And Chalmers, And Them Sort O' Cattle; But I Mean
The House Where The Nobles Meet, Pick Out The Big Bugs,
Volume 2 Chapter 9 (Throwing The Lavender) Pg 145And See What Sort O' Stuff They Are Made Of. Let's Take
Minister With Us--He Is A Great Judge Of These Things.
I Should Like You To Hear His Opinion; He Knows Every
Thin' A'most, Though The Ways Of The World Bother Him A
Little Sometimes; But For Valyin' A Man, Or Stating
Principles, Or Talkin' Politics, There Ain't No Man Equal
To Him, Hardly. He Is A Book, That's A Fact; It's All
There What You Want; All You've Got To Do Is To Cut The
Leaves. Name The Word In The Index, He'll Turn To The
Page, And Give You Day, Date, And Fact, For It. There Is
No Mistake In Him.
"That Cussed Provokin' Visit Of Yours To Scotland Will
Shove Them Things Into The Next Book, I'm Afeered. But
It Don't Signify Nothin'; You Can't Cram All Into One,
And We Hante Only Broke The Crust Yet, And P'rhaps It's
As Well To Look Afore You Leap Too, Or You Might Make As
Big A Fool Of Yourself, As Some Of The Britishers Have
A-Writin' About Us And The Provinces. Oh Yes, It's A
Great Advantage Havin' Minister With You. He'll Fell The
Big Stiff Trees For You; And I'm The Boy For The Saplin's,
I've Got The Eye And The Stroke For Them. They Spring So
Confoundedly Under The Axe, Does Second Growth And
Underwood, It's Dangerous Work, But I've Got The Sleight
O' Hand For That, And We'll Make A Clean Field Of It.
"Then Come And Survey; Take Your Compass And Chain To
The Ground And Measure, And Lay That Off--Branch And Bark
The Spars For Snakin' Off The Ground; Cord Up The Fire-Wood,
Tie Up The Hoop Poles, And Then Burn Off The Trash And
Rubbish. Do It Workman-Like. Take Your Time To It As If
You Was Workin' By The Day. Don't Hurry, Like Job Work;
Don't Slobber It Over, And Leave Half-Burnt Trees And
Logs Strewed About The Surface, But Make Smack Smooth
Work. Do That, Squire, Do It Well, And That Is, Only
Half As Good As You Can, If You Choose, And Then--"
"And Then," Said I, "I Make No Doubt You Will Have Great
Pleasure '_In Throwin' The Lavender Again_."
Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 146
"What Do You Intend To Do, Squire, With Your Two Youngest
Boys?" Said Mr. Slick To Me To-Day, As We Were Walking
In The Park.
"I Design Them," I Said, "For Professions. One I Shall
Educate For A Lawyer, And The Other For A Clergyman."
"Where?"
"In Nova Scotia."
"Exactly," Says He. "It Shews Your Sense; It's The Very
Place For 'Em. It's A Fine Field For A Young Man; I Don't
Know No Better One No Where In The Whole Univarsal World.
When I Was A Boy Larnin' To Shoot, Sais Father To Me,
One Day, 'Sam,' Sais He, 'I'll Give You A Lesson In
Gunnin' That's Worth Knowin'. "_Aim High_," My Boy; Your
Gun Naterally Settles Down A Little Takin' Sight, Cause
Your Arm Gets Tired, And Wabbles, And The Ball Settles
A Little While It's A Travellin', Accordin' To A Law Of
Natur, Called Franklin's Law; And I Obsarve You Always
Hit Below The Mark. Now, Make Allowances For These Things
In Gunnin', And "Aim High," For Your Life, Always. And,
Sam,' Sais He, 'I've Seed A Great Deal Of The World, All
Mili_Tary_ Men Do. 'I Was To Bunker's Hill Durin' The
Engagement, And I Saw Washington The Day He Was Made
President, And In Course Must Know More Nor Most Men Of
My Age; And I'll Give You Another Bit Of Advice, "Aim
High" In Life, And If You Don't Hit The Bull's Eye, You'll
Hit The "Fust Circles," And That Ain't A Bad Shot Nother.'
"'Father,' Sais I, 'I Guess I've Seed More Of The World
Than You Have, Arter All.'
"'How So, Sam?' Sais He.
"'Why,' Sais I, 'Father, You've Only Been To Bunker's
Hill, And That's Nothin'; No Part Of It Ain't Too Steep
To Plough; It's Only A Sizeable Hillock, Arter All. But
I've Been To The Notch On The White Mountain, So High
Up, That The Snow Don't Melt There, And Seed Five States
All To Once, And Half Way Over To England, And Then I've
Seed Jim Crow Dance. So There Now?' He Jist Up With The
Flat Of His Hand, And Gave Me A Wipe With It On The Side
Of My Face, That Knocked Me Over; And As I Fell, He Lent
Me A Kick On My Musn't-Mention-It, That Sent Me A Rod Or
So Afore I Took Ground On All Fours.
"'Take That, You Young Scoundrel!' Said He, 'And Larn To
Speak Respectful Next Time To An Old Man, A Mili_Tary_
Man, And Your Father, Too.'
"It Hurt Me Properly, You May Depend. 'Why,' Sais I, As
I Picked Myself Up, 'Didn't You Tell Me To "Aim High,"
Father? So I Thought I'd Do It, And Beat Your Brag, That's
All.'
"Truth Is, Squire, I Never Could Let A Joke Pass All My
Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 147Life, Without Havin' A Lark With It. I Was Fond Of One,
Ever Since I Was Knee High To A Goose, Or Could Recollect
Any Thin' Amost; I Have Got Into A Horrid Sight Of Scrapes
By 'Em, That's A Fact. I Never Forgot That Lesson Though,
It Was Kicked Into Me: And Lessons That Are Larnt On The
Right Eend, Ain't Never Forgot Amost. I _Have_ "Aimed
High" Ever Since, And See Where I Be Now. Here I Am An
Attache, Made Out Of A Wooden Clock Pedlar. Tell You
What, I Shall Be "Embassador" Yet, Made Out Of Nothin'
But An "Attache," And I'll Be President Of Our Great
Republic, And Almighty Nation In The Eend, Made Out Of
An Embassador, See If I Don't. That Comes Of "Aimin'
High." What Do You Call That Water Near Your Coach-House?"
"A Pond."
"Is There Any Brook Runnin' In, Or Any Stream Runnin'
Out?"
"No."
"Well, That's The Difference Between A Lake And A Pond.
Now, Set That Down For A Traveller's Fact. Now, Where Do
You Go To Fish?"
"To The Lakes, Of Course; There Are No Fish In The Ponds."
"Exactly," Said Mr. Slick, "That Is What I Want To Bring
You To; There Is No Fish In A Pond, There Is Nothin' But
Frogs. Nova Scotia Is Only A Pond, And So Is New Brunswick,
And Such Outlandish, Out O' The Way, Little Crampt Up,
Stagnant Places. There Is No 'Big Fish' There, Nor Never
Can Be; There Ain't No Food For 'Em. A Colony Frog!!
Heavens And Airth, What An Odd Fish That Is? A Colony
Pollywog! Do, For Gracious Sake, Catch One, Put Him Into
A Glass Bottle Full Of Spirits, And Send Him To The Museum
As A Curiosity In Natur. So You Are A Goin' To Make Your
Two Nice Pretty Little Smart Boys A Pair Of Colony Frogs,
Eh? Oh! Do, By All Means.
"You'll Have Great Comfort In 'Em, Squire. Monstrous
Comfort. It Will Do Your Old Heart Good To Go Down To
The Edge Of The Pond On The Fust Of May, Or Thereabouts,
Accordin' To The Season, Jist At Sun Down, And Hear 'Em
Sing. You'll See The Little Fellers Swell Out Their
Cheeks, And Roar Away Like Young Suckin' Thunders. For
The Frogs Beat All Natur There For Noise; They Have No
Notion Of It Here At All. I've Seed Englishmen That
Couldn't Sleep All Night, For The Everlastin' Noise These
Critters Made. Their Frogs Have Somethin' Else To Do
Here Besides Singin'. Ain't It A Splendid Prospect That,
Havin' These Young Frogs Settled All Round You In The
Same Mud-Hole, All Gathered In A, Nice Little Musical
Family Party. All Fine Fun This, Till Some Fine Day We
Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 148Yankee Storks Will Come Down And Gobble Them All Up, And
Make Clear Work Of It.
"No, Squire, Take My Advice Now For Once; Jist Go To
Your Colony Minister When He Is Alone. Don't Set Down,
But Stand Up As If You Was In Airnest, And Didn't Come
To Gossip, And Tell Him, 'Turn These Ponds Into A Lake,'
Sais You, My Lord Minister, Give Them An Inlet And An
Outlet. Let Them Be Kept Pure, And Sweet, And Wholesome,
By A Stream, Runnin' Through. Fish Will Live There Then
If You Put Them In, And They Will
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