The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3), Thomas Chandler Haliburton [best ereader for pdf TXT] 📗

Breed There,  And Keep

Up The Stock. At Present They Die; It Ain't Big Enough;

There Ain't Room. If He Sais He Hante Time To Hear You,

And Asks You To Put It Into Writin',  Do You Jist Walk

Over To His Table,  Take Up His Lignum Vitae Ruler Into

Your Fist,  Put Your Back To The Door,  And Say 'By The

'Tarnal Empire,  You _Shall_ Hear Me; You Don't Go Out Of

This,  Till I Give You The Butt Eend Of My Mind,  I Can

Tell You. I Am An Old Bull Frog Now; The Nova Scotia Pond

Is Big Enough For Me; I'll Get Drowned If I Get Into A

Bigger One,  For I Hante Got No Fins,  Nothin' But Legs

And Arms To Swim With,  And Deep Water Wouldn't Suit Me,

I Ain't Fit For It,  And I Must Live And Die There,  That's

My Fate As Sure As Rates.' If He Gets Tired,  And Goes To

Get Up Or To Move,  Do You Shake The Big Ruler At Him,  As

Fierce As A Painter,  And Say,  'Don't You Stir For Your

Life; I Don't Want To Lay Nothin' _On_ Your Head,  I Only

Want To Put Somethin' _In_ It. I Am A Father And Have

Got Youngsters. I Am A Native,  And Have Got Countrymen.

Enlarge Our Sphere,  Give Us A Chance In The World.' 'Let

Me Out,' He'll Say,  'This Minute,  Sir,  Or I'll Put You

In Charge Of A Policeman.' 'Let You Out Is It,' Sais You.

'Oh! You Feel Bein' Pent Up,  Do You? I Am Glad Of It.

The Tables Are Turned Now,  That's What We Complain Of.

You've Stood At The Door,  And Kept Us In; Now I'll Keep

You In Awhile. I Want To Talk To You,  That's More Than

You Ever Did To Us. How Do You Like Bein' Shut In? Does

It Feel Good? Does It Make Your Dander Rise?' 'Let Me

Out,' He'll Say Agin,  'This Moment,  Sir,  How Dare You.'

Oh! You Are In A Hurry,  Are You?' Sais You. 'You've Kept

Me In All My Life; Don't Be Oneasy If I Keep You In Five

Minutes.'

 

"'Well,  What Do You Want Then?' He'll Say,  Kinder Peevish;

'What Do You Want?' 'I Don't Want Nothin' For Myself,'

Sais You. 'I've Got All I Can Get In That Pond; And I

Got That From The Whigs,  Fellers I've Been Abusin' All

My Life; And I'm Glad To Make Amends By Acknowledging

This Good Turn They Did Me; For I Am A Tory,  And No

Mistake. I Don't Want Nothin'; But I Want To Be An

_Englishman_. I Don't Want To Be An English _Subject_;

Do You Understand That Now? If You Don't,  This Is The

Meanin',  That There Is No Fun In Bein' A Fag,  If You Are

Never To Have A Fag Yourself. Give Us All Fair Play.

Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 149

Don't Move Now,' Sais You,  'For I'm Gettin' Warm; I'm

Gettin' Spotty On The Back,  My Bristles Is Up,  And I

Might Hurt You With This Ruler; It's A Tender Pint This,

For I've Rubbed The Skin Off Of A Sore Place; But I'll

Tell You A Gospel Truth,  And Mind What I Tell You,  For

Nobody Else Has Sense Enough,  And If They Had,  They Hante

Courage Enough. If You Don't Make _Englishmen Of Us_,

The Force Of Circumstances Will _Make Yankees_ Of Us,  As

Sure As You Are Born.' He'll Stare At That. He Is A Clever

Man,  And Aint Wantin' In Gumption. He Is No Fool,  That's

A Fact. 'Is It No Compliment To You And Your Institutions

This?' Sais You. 'Don't It Make You Feel Proud That Even

Independence Won't Tempt Us To Dissolve The Connexion?

Ain't It A Noble Proof Of Your Good Qualities That,

Instead Of Agitatin' For Repeal Of The Union,  We Want A

Closer Union? But Have We No Pride Too? We Would Be

Onworthy Of The Name Of Englishmen,  If We Hadn't It,  And

We Won't Stand Beggin' For Ever I Tell _You_. Here's Our

Hands,  Give Us Yourn; Let's Be All Englishmen Together.

Give Us A Chance,  And If Us,  Young English Boys,  Don't

Astonish You Old English,  My Name Ain't Tom Poker,  That's

All.' 'Sit Down,' He'll Say,  'Mr. Poker;' There Is A

Great Deal In That; Sit Down; I Am Interested.'

 

"The Instant He Sais That,  Take Your Ruler,  Lay It Down

On The Table,  Pick Up Your Hat,  Make A Scrape With Your

Hind Leg,  And Say,  'I Regret I Have Detained You So Long,

Sir. I Am Most Peskily Afraid My Warmth Has Kinder Betrayed

Me Into Rudeness. I Really Beg Pardon,  I Do Upon My Soul.

I Feel I Have Smashed Down All Decency,  I Am Horrid

Ashamed Of Myself.' Well,  He Won't Say You Hante Rode

The High Hoss,  And Done The Unhandsum Thing,  Because It

Wouldn't Be True If He Did; But He'll Say,  'Pray Be

Seated. I Can Make Allowances,  Sir,  Even For Intemperate

Zeal. And This Is A Very Important Subject,  Very Indeed.

There Is A Monstrous Deal In What You Say,  Though You

Have,  I Must Say,  Rather A Peculiar,  An Unusual,  Way Of

Puttin' It.' Don't You Stay Another Minit Though,  Nor

Say Another Word,  For Your Life; But Bow,  Beg Pardon,

Hold In Your Breath,  That Your Face May Look Red,  As If

You Was Blushin',  And Back Out,  Starn Fust. Whenever

You Make An Impression On A Man,  Stop; Your Reasonin'

And Details May Ruin You. Like A Feller Who Sais A Good

Thing,  He'd Better Shove Off,  And Leave Every One Larfin'

At His Wit,  Than Stop And Tire Them Out,  Till They Say

What A Great Screw Augur That Is. Well,  If You Find He

Opens The Colonies,  And Patronises The Smart Folks,  Leave

Your Sons There If You Like,  And Let 'Em Work Up,  And

Work Out Of It,  If They Are Fit,  And Time And Opportunity

Offers. But One Thing Is Sartain,  _The Very Openin' Of

The Door Will Open Their Minds_,  As A Matter Of Course.

If He Don't Do It,  And I Can Tell You Before Hand He

Won't--For They Actilly Hante Got Time Here,  To Think Of

These Things--Send Your Boys Here Into The Great World.

Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 150

Sais You To The Young Lawyer,  'Bob,' Sais You,  '"Aim

High." If You Don't Get To Be Lord Chancellor,  I Shall

Never Die In Peace. I've Set My Heart On It. It's Within

Your Reach,  If You Are Good For Anything. Let Me See The

Great Seal--Let Me Handle It Before I Die--Do,  That's A

Dear; If Not,  Go Back To Your Colony Pond,  And Sing With

Your Provincial Frogs,  And I Hope To Heaven The Fust

Long-Legged Bittern That Comes There Will Make A Supper

Of You."

 

"Then Sais You To The Young Parson,  'Arthur,' Sais You

'Natur Jist Made You For A Clergyman. Now,  Do You Jist

Make Yourself 'Archbishop Of Canterbury.' My Death-Bed

Scene Will Be An Awful One,  If I Don't See You 'The

Primate'; For My Affections,  My Hopes,  My Heart,  Is Fixed

On It. I Shall Be Willin' To Die Then,  I Shall Depart In

Peace,  And Leave This World Happy. And,  Arthur,' Sais

You,  'They Talk And Brag Here Till One Is Sick Of The

Sound A'most About "Addison's Death-Bed." Good People

Refer To It As An Example,  Authors As A Theatrical Scene

And Hypocrites As A Grand Illustration For Them To Turn

Up The Whites Of Their Cold Cantin' Eyes At. Lord Love

You,  My Son,' Sais You,  'Let Them Brag Of It; But What

Would It Be To Mine; You Congratulatin' Me On Goin' To

A Better World,  And Me Congratulatin' You On Bein'

"Archbishop." Then,' Sais You,  In A Starn Voice Like A

Boatsan's Trumpet--For If You Want Things To Be Remembered,

Give 'Em Effect,  "Aim High," Sir,' Sais You. Then Like

My Old Father,  Fetch Him A Kick On His Western Eend,  That

Will Lift Him Clean Over The Table,  And Say 'That's The

Way To Rise In The World,  You Young Sucking Parson You.

"Aim High," Sir.'

 

"Neither Of Them Will Ever Forget It As Long As They

Live. The Hit Does That; For A Kick Is A Very _Striking_

Thing,  That's A Fact. There Has Been _No Good Scholars

Since Birch Rods Went Out O' School,  And Sentiment Went

In_."

 

"But You Know," I Said,  "Mr. Slick,  That Those High Prizes

In The Lottery Of Life,  Can,  In The Nature Of Things,  Be

Drawn But By Few People,  And How Many Blanks Are There

To One-Prize In This World."

 

"Well,  What's To Prevent Your Boys Gettin' Those Prizes,

If Colonists Was Made Christians Of,  Instead Of Outlawed,

Exiled,  Transported,  Oncarcumcised Heathen Indgean Niggers,

As They Be. If People Don't Put Into A Lottery,  How The

Devil Can They Get Prizes? Will You Tell Me That. Look

At The Critters Here,  Look At The Publicans,  Taylors,

Barbers,  And Porters' Sons,  How The've Rose Here,  'In

This Big Lake,' To Be Chancellors And Archbishops; How

Did They Get Them? They 'Aimed High,' And Besides,  All

That,  Like Father's Story Of The Gun,  By 'Aiming High,'

Volume 2 Chapter 10 (Aiming High) Pg 151

Though They May Miss The Mark,  They Will Be Sure To Hit

The Upper Circles. Oh,  Squire,  There Is Nothing Like

'Aiming High,' In This World."

 

"I Quite Agree With You,  Sam," Said Mr. Hopewell. "I

Never Heard You Speak So Sensibly Before. Nothing Can Be

Better For Young Men Than "Aiming High." Though They May

Not Attain To The Highest Honours,  They May,  As You Say,

Reach To A Most Respectable Station. But Surely,  Squire,

You Will Never So Far Forget The Respect That Is Due To

So High An Officer As A Secretary Of State,  Or,  Indeed,

So Far Forget Yourself As To Adopt A Course,  Which From

Its Eccentricity,  Violence,  And Impropriety,  Must Leave

The Impression That Your Intellects Are Disordered.

Surely You Will Never Be Tempted To Make The Experiment?"

 

"I Should Think Not,  Indeed," I Said. "I Have No Desire

To Become An Inmate Of A Lunatic Asylum."

 

"Good," Said He; "I Am Satisfied. I Quite Agree With

Sam,  Though. Indeed,  I Go Further. I Do Not Think He Has

Advised You To Recommend Your Boys To 'Aim High Enough.'"

 

"Creation! Said Mr. Slick,  "How Much Higher Do You Want

Provincial Frogs To Go,  Than To Be 'Chancellor' And

'Primate?'

 

"I'll Tell You,  Sam; I'd Advise Them To 'Aim Higher' Than

Earthly Honours. I Would Advise Them To Do Their Duty,

In Any Station Of Life In Which It Shall Please Providence

To Place Them; And