Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens (ebooks children's books free TXT) 📕

IN WHICH THE TRAVELLERS MOVE HOMEWARD, AND ENCOUNTER SOME DISTINGUISHED CHARACTERS UPON THE WAY

Among the passengers on board the steamboat, there was a faint gentleman sitting on a low camp-stool, with his legs on a high barrel of flour, as if he were looking at the prospect with his ankles, who attracted their attention speedily.

He had straight black hair, parted up the middle of his head and hanging down upon his coat; a little fringe of hair upon his chin; wore no neckcloth; a white hat; a suit of black, long in the sleeves and short in the legs; soiled brown stockings and laced shoes. His complexion, naturally muddy, was rendered muddier by too strict an economy of soap and water; and the same observation will apply to the washable part of his attire, which he might have changed with comfort to himself and gratification to his friends. He was about five and thirty; was crushed and jammed up in a heap, under the shade of a large green cotton umbrella; and ruminated over his tobacco-plug like a cow.

He was not singular, to be sure, in these respects; for every gentleman on board appeared to have had a difference with his laundress and to have left off washing himself in early youth. Every gentleman, too, was perfectly stopped up with tight plugging, and was dislocated in the greater part of his joints. But about this gentleman there was a peculiar air of sagacity and wisdom, which convinced Martin that he was no common character; and this turned out to be the case.

‘How do you do sir?’ said a voice in Martin’s ear

‘How do you do sir?’ said Martin.

It was a tall thin gentleman who spoke to him, with a carpet-cap on, and a long loose coat of green baize, ornamented about the pockets with black velvet.

‘You air from Europe, sir?’

‘I am,’ said Martin.

‘You air fortunate, sir.’

Martin thought so too; but he soon discovered that the gentleman and he attached different meanings to this remark.

‘You air fortunate, sir, in having an opportunity of beholding our Elijah Pogram, sir.’

‘Your Elijahpogram!’ said Martin, thinking it was all one word, and a building of some sort.

‘Yes sir.’

Martin tried to look as if he understood him, but he couldn’t make it out.

‘Yes, sir,’ repeated the gentleman. ‘our Elijah Pogram, sir, is, at this minute, identically settin’ by the en-gine biler.’

The gentleman under the umbrella put his right forefinger to his eyebrow, as if he were revolving schemes of state.

‘That is Elijah Pogram, is it?’ said Martin.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied the other. ‘That is Elijah Pogram.’

‘Dear me!’ said Martin. ‘I am astonished.’ But he had not the least idea who this Elijah Pogram was; having never heard the name in all his life.

‘If the biler of this vessel was Toe bust, sir,’ said his new acquaintance, ‘and Toe bust now, this would be a festival day in the calendar of despotism; pretty nigh equallin’, sir, in its effects upon the human race, our Fourth of glorious July. Yes, sir, that is the Honourable Elijah Pogram, Member of Congress; one of the master-minds of our country, sir. There is a brow, sir, there!’

‘Quite remarkable,’ said Martin.

‘Yes, sir. Our own immortal Chiggle, sir, is said to have observed, when he made the celebrated Pogram statter in marble, which rose so much contest and prejudice in Europe, that the brow was more than mortal. This was before the Pogram Defiance, and was, therefore, a prediction, cruel smart.’

‘What is the Pogram Defiance?’ asked Martin, thinking, perhaps, it was the sign of a public-house.

‘An oration, sir,’ returned his friend.

‘Oh! to be sure,’ cried Martin. ‘What am I thinking of! It defied—’

‘It defied the world, sir,’ said the other, gravely. ‘Defied the world in general to compete with our country upon any hook; and devellop’d our internal resources for making war upon the universal airth. You would like to know Elijah Pogram, sir?’

‘If you please,’ said Martin.

‘Mr Pogram,’ said the stranger—Mr Pogram having overheard every word of the dialogue—‘this is a gentleman from Europe, sir; from England, sir. But gen’rous enemies may meet upon the neutral sile of private life, I think.’

The languid Mr Pogram shook hands with Martin, like a clockwork figure that was just running down. But he made amends by chewing like one that was just wound up.

‘Mr Pogram,’ said the introducer, ‘is a public servant, sir. When Congress is recessed, he makes himself acquainted with those free United States, of which he is the gifted son.’

It occurred to Martin that if the Honourable Elijah Pogram had stayed at home, and sent his shoes upon a tour, they would have answered the same purpose; for they were the only part of him in a situation to see anything.

In course of time, however, Mr Pogram rose; and having ejected certain plugging consequences which would have impeded his articulation, took up a position where there was something to lean against, and began to talk to Martin; shading himself with the green umbrella all the time.

As he began with the words, ‘How do you like—?’ Martin took him up and said:

‘The country, I presume?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Elijah Pogram. A knot of passengers gathered round to hear what followed; and Martin heard his friend say, as he whispered to another friend, and rubbed his hands, ‘Pogram will smash him into sky-blue fits, I know!’

‘Why,’ said Martin, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘I have learned by experience, that you take an unfair advantage of a stranger, when you ask that question. You don’t mean it to be answered, except in one way. Now, I don’t choose to answer it in that way, for I cannot honestly answer it in that way. And therefore, I would rather not answer it at all.’

But Mr Pogram was going to make a great speech in the next session about foreign relations, and was going to write strong articles on the subject; and as he greatly favoured the free and independent custom (a very harmless and agreeable one) of procuring information of any sort in any kind of confidence, and afterwards perverting it publicly in any manner that happened to suit him, he had determined to get at Martin’s opinions somehow or other. For if he could have got nothing out of him, he would have had to invent it for him, and that would have been laborious. He made a mental note of his answer, and went in again.

‘You are from Eden, sir? How did you like Eden?’

Martin said what he thought of that part of the country, in pretty strong terms.

‘It is strange,’ said Pogram, looking round upon the group, ‘this hatred of our country, and her Institutions! This national antipathy is deeply rooted in the British mind!’

‘Good Heaven, sir,’ cried Martin. ‘Is the Eden Land Corporation, with Mr Scadder at its head, and all the misery it has worked, at its door, an Institution of America? A part of any form of government that ever was known or heard of?’

‘I consider the cause of this to be,’ said Pogram, looking round again and taking himself up where Martin had interrupted him, ‘partly jealousy and prejudice, and partly the nat’ral unfitness of the British people to appreciate the exalted Institutions of our native land. I expect, sir,’ turning to Martin again, ‘that a gentleman named Chollop happened in upon you during your location in the town of Eden?’

‘Yes,’ answered Martin; ‘but my friend can answer this better than I can, for I was very ill at the time. Mark! The gentleman is speaking of Mr Chollop.’

‘Oh. Yes, sir. Yes. I see him,’ observed Mark.

‘A splendid example of our na-tive raw material, sir?’ said Pogram, interrogatively.

‘Indeed, sir!’ cried Mark.

The Honourable Elijah Pogram glanced at his friends as though he would have said, ‘Observe this! See what follows!’ and they rendered tribute to the Pogram genius by a gentle murmur.

‘Our fellow-countryman is a model of a man, quite fresh from Natur’s mould!’ said Pogram, with enthusiasm. ‘He is a true-born child of this free hemisphere! Verdant as the mountains of our country; bright and flowing as our mineral Licks; unspiled by withering conventionalities as air our broad and boundless Perearers! Rough he may be. So air our Barrs. Wild he may be. So air our Buffalers. But he is a child of Natur’, and a child of Freedom; and his boastful answer to the Despot and the Tyrant is, that his bright home is in the Settin Sun.’

Part of this referred to Chollop, and part to a Western postmaster, who, being a public defaulter not very long before (a character not at all uncommon in America), had been removed from office; and on whose behalf Mr Pogram (he voted for Pogram) had thundered the last sentence from his seat in Congress, at the head of an unpopular President. It told brilliantly; for the bystanders were delighted, and one of them said to Martin, ‘that he guessed he had now seen something of the eloquential aspect of our country, and was chawed up pritty small.’

Mr Pogram waited until his hearers were calm again, before he said to Mark:

‘You do not seem to coincide, sir?’

‘Why,’ said Mark, ‘I didn’t like him much; and that’s the truth, sir. I thought he was a bully; and I didn’t admire his carryin’ them murderous little persuaders, and being so ready to use ‘em.’

‘It’s singler!’ said Pogram, lifting his umbrella high enough to look all round from under it. ‘It’s strange! You observe the settled opposition to our Institutions which pervades the British mind!’

‘What an extraordinary people you are!’ cried Martin. ‘Are Mr Chollop and the class he represents, an Institution here? Are pistols with revolving barrels, sword-sticks, bowie-knives, and such things, Institutions on which you pride yourselves? Are bloody duels, brutal combats, savage assaults, shooting down and stabbing in the streets, your Institutions! Why, I shall hear next that Dishonour and Fraud are among the Institutions of the great republic!’

The moment the words passed his lips, the Honourable Elijah Pogram looked round again.

‘This morbid hatred of our Institutions,’ he observed, ‘is quite a study for the psychological observer. He’s alludin’ to Repudiation now!’

‘Oh! you may make anything an Institution if you like,’ said Martin, laughing, ‘and I confess you had me there, for you certainly have made that one. But the greater part of these things are one Institution with us, and we call it by the generic name of Old Bailey!’

The bell being rung for dinner at this moment, everybody ran away into the cabin, whither the Honourable Elijah Pogram fled with such precipitation that he forgot his umbrella was up, and fixed it so tightly in the cabin door that it could neither be let down nor got out. For a minute