The Attache; Or, Sam Slick In England(Fiscle Part-3) by Thomas Chandler Haliburton (english novels for beginners .txt) 📕

Old English? Do You Call It Pretty,  Say Now? Thank God,

It Tante Yankee."

"I See You Have No Prejudice,  Mr. Slick," I Replied.

"Not One Mite Or Morsel," He Replied. "Tho' I Was Born

In Connecticut,  I Have Travelled All Over The Thirteen

United Univarsal Worlds Of Ourn And Am A Citizen At Large.

No,  I Have No Prejudice. You Say I Am Mistaken; P'raps

I Am,  I Hope I Be,  And A Stranger May Get Hold Of The

Wrong Eend Of A Thing Sometimes,  That's A Fact. But I

Don't Think I Be Wrong,  Or Else The Papers Don't Tell

The Truth; And I Read It In All The Jarnals; I Did,  Upon

My Soul. Why Man,  It's History Now,  If Such Nasty Mean

Doins Is Worth Puttin' Into A Book.

"What Makes This Spy System To England Wuss,  Is That

These Eaves-Droppers Are Obliged To Hear All That's Said,

Or Lose What Commission They Hold; At Least So Folks Tell

Me. I Recollect When I Was There Last,  For It's Some

Years Since Government First Sot Up The Spy System; There

Was A Great Feed Given To A Mr. Robe,  Or Robie,  Or Some

Such Name,  An Out And Out Tory. Well,  Sunthin' Or Another

Was Said Over Their Cups,  That Might As Well Have Been

Let Alone,  I Do Suppose,  Tho' Dear Me,  What Is The Use

Of Wine But To Onloosen The Tongue,  And What Is The Use

Of The Tongue,  But To Talk. Oh,  Cuss 'Em,  I Have No

Patience With Them. Well,  There Was An Officer Of A

Marchin' Regiment There,  Who It Seems Ought To Have Took

Down The Words And Sent 'Em Up To The Head Gineral,  But

He Was A Knowin' Coon,  Was Officer,  And _Didn't Hear It_.

No Sooner Said Than Done; Some One Else Did The Dirty

Work For Him; But You Can't Have A Substitute For This,

You Must Sarve In Person,  So The Old Gineral Hawls Him

Right Up For It.

"'Why The Plague,  Didn't You Make A Fuss?' Sais The

General,  'Why Didn't You Get Right Up,  And Break Up The

Party?'

"'I Didn't Hear It,' Sais He.

"'You Didn't Hear It!' Sais Old Sword-Belt,  'Then You

Had Ought To Have Heerd It; And For Two Pins,  I'd Sharpen

Your Hearin' For You,  So That A Snore Of A Fly Would Wake

You Up,  As If A Byler Had Bust.'

"Oh,  How It Has Lowered The English In The Eyes Of

Foreigners! How Sneakin' It Makes 'Em Look! They Seem

For All The World Like Scared Dogs; And A Dog When He

Slopes Off With His Head Down,  His Tail Atween His Legs,

And His Back So Mean It Won't Bristle,  Is A Caution To

Sinners. Lord. I Wish I Was Queen!"

"What,  Of Such A Degraded Race As You Say The English

Are,  Of Such A Mean-Spirited,  Sneaking Nation?"

"Well,  They Warn't Always So," He Replied. "I Will Say

That,  For I Have No Prejudice. By Natur,  There Is Sunthin'

Noble And Manly In A Britisher,  And Always Was,  Till This

Cussed Spy System Got Into Fashion. They Tell Me It Was

The Liberals First Brought It Into Vogue. How That Is.

I Don't Know; But I Shouldn't Wonder If It Was Them,  For

I Know This,  If A Feller Talks _Very_ Liberal In Politics,

Put Him Into Office,  And See What A Tyrant He'll Make.

If He Talks Very Liberal In Religion,  It's Because He

Hante Got None At All. If He Talks Very Liberal To The

Poor,  Talk Is All The Poor Will Ever Get Out Of Him. If

He Talks Liberal About Corn Law,  It Tante To Feed The

Hungry,  But To Lower Wages,  And So On In Every Thing A

Most. None Is So Liberal As Those As Hante Got Nothin'.

The Most Liberal Feller I Know On Is "Old Scratch Himself."

If Ever The Liberals Come In,  They Should Make Him Prime

Minister. He Is Very Liberal In Religion And Would Jine

Them In Excludin' The Bible From Common Schools I Know.

He Is Very Liberal About The Criminal Code,  For He Can't

Bear To See Criminals Punished. He Is Very Liberal In

Politics,  For He Don't Approbate Restraint,  And Likes To

Let Every Critter 'Go To The Devil' His Own Way. Oh,  He

Should Be Head Spy And Prime Minister That Feller.

"But Without Jokin' Tho',  If I Was Queen,  The Fust Time

Any O' My Ministers Came To Me To Report What The Spies

Had Said,  I'd Jist Up And Say,  'Minister,' I'd Say,  'It

Is A Cussed Oninglish,  Onmanly,  Niggerly Business,  Is

This Of Pumpin',  And Spyin',  And Tattlin'. I Don't Like

It A Bit. I'll Have Neither Art Nor Part In It; I Wash

My Hands Clear Of It. It Will Jist Break The Spirit Of

My People. So,  Minister Look Here. The Next Report That

Is Brought To Me Of A Spy,  I'll Whip His Tongue Out And

Whop Your Ear Off,  Or My Name Ain't Queen. So Jist Mind

What I Say; First Spy Pokes His Nose Into Your Office,

Chop It Off And Clap It Up Over Temple Bar,  Where They

Puts The Heads Of Traitors And Write These Words Over,

With Your Own Fist,  That They May Know The Handwritin',

And Not Mistake The Meanin',  _This Is The Nose Of A Spy_."

Nothing Is So Fatiguing As Sight-Seeing. The Number And

Variety Of Objects To Which Your Attention Is Called,

And The Rapid Succession In Which They Pass In Review,

At Once Wearies And Perplexes The Mind; And Unless You

Take Notes To Refresh Your Memory,  You Are Apt To Find

You Carry Away With You But An Imperfect And Indistinct

Recollection.

Yesterday Was Devoted To An Inspection Of The Tunnel And

An Examination Of The Tower,  Two Things That Ought Always

To Be Viewed In Juxta-Position; One Being The Greatest

Evidence Of The Science And Wealth Of Modern Times; And

The Other Of The Power And Pomp Of Our Forefathers.

It Is A Long Time Before A Stranger Can Fully Appreciate

The Extent Of Population And Wealth Of This Vast Metropolis.

At First,  He Is Astonished And Confused; His Vision Is

Indistinct. By Degrees He Begins To Understand Its

Localities,  The Ground Plan Becomes Intelligible And He

Can Take It All In At A View. The Map Is A Large One; It

Is A Chart Of The World. He Knows The Capes And The Bays;

He Has Sailed Round Them,  And Knows Their Relative

Distance,  And At Last Becomes Aware Of The Magnitude Of

The Whole. Object After Object Becomes More Familiar. He

Can Estimate The Population; He Compares The Amount Of

It With That Of Countries That He Is Acquainted With,

And Finds That This One Town Contains Within It Nearly

As Great A Number Of Souls As All British North America.

He Estimates The Incomes Of The Inhabitants,  And Finds

Figures Almost Inadequate To Express The Amount. He Asks

For The Sources From Whence It Is Derived. He Resorts To

His Maxims Of Political Economy,  And They Cannot Inform

Him. He Calculates The Number Of Acres Of Land In England,

Adds Up The Rental,  And Is Again At Fault. He Inquires

Into The Statistics Of The Exchange,  And Discovers That

Even That Is Inadequate; And,  As A Last Resource,  Concludes

That The Whole World Is Tributary To This Queen Of Cities.

It Is The Heart Of The Universe. All The Circulation

Centres Here,  And Hence Are Derived All Those Streams

That Give Life And Strength To The Extremities. How Vast,

How Populous,  How Rich,  How Well Regulated,  How Well

Supplied,  How Clean,  How Well Ventilated,  How Healthy!--What

A Splendid City! How Worthy Of Such An Empire And Such

A People!

What Is The Result Of His Experience? _It Is,  That There

Is No Such Country In The World As England,  And No Such

Place In England As London; That London Is Better Than

Any Other Town In Winter,  And Quite As Good As Any Other

Place In Summer; That Containing Not Only All That He

Requires,  But All That He Can Wish,  In The Greatest

Perfection,  He Desires Never To Leave It._

Local Description,  However,  Is Not My Object; I Shall

Therefore,  Return To My Narrative.

Our Examination Of The Tower And The Tunnel Occupied The

Whole Day,  And Though Much Gratified,  We Were No Less

Fatigued. On Returning To Our Lodgings,  I Found Letters

From Nova Scotia. Among Others,  Was One From The Widow

Of An Old Friend,  Enclosing A Memorial To The

Commander-In-Chief,  Setting Forth The Important And

Gratuitous Services Of Her Late Husband To The Local

Government Of The Province,  And Soliciting For Her Son

Some Small Situation In The Ordnance Department,  Which

Had Just Fallen Vacant At Halifax. I Knew That It Was

Not Only Out Of My Power To Aid Her,  But That It Was

Impossible For Her,  However Strong The Claims Of Her

Husband Might Be,  To Obtain Her Request. These Things

Are Required For Friends And Dependants In England; And

In The Race Of Competition,  What Chance Of Success Has

A Colonist?

I Made Up My Mind At Once To Forward Her Memorial As

Requested,  But Pondered On The Propriety Of Adding To It

A Recommendation. It Could Do No Good. At Most,  It Would

Only Be The Certificate Of An Unknown Man; Of One Who

Had Neither Of The Two Great Qualifications,  Namely,

County Or Parliamentary Interest,  But It Might Do Harm.

It Might,  By Engendering Ridicule From The Insolence Of

Office,  Weaken A Claim,  Otherwise Well Founded. "Who The

Devil Is This Mr. Thomas Poker,  That Recommends The Prayer

Of The Petition? The Fellow Imagines All The World Must

Have Heard Of Him. A Droll Fellow That,  I Take It From

His Name: But All Colonists Are Queer Fellows,  Eh?"

"Bad News From Home?" Said Mr. Slick,  Who Had Noticed

My Abstraction. "No Screw Loose There,  I Hope. You Don't

Look As If You Liked The Flavour Of That Ere Nut You Are

Crackin' Of. Whose Dead? And What Is To Pay Now?"

I Read The Letter And The Memorial,  And Then Explained

From My Own Knowledge How Numerous And How Valuable Were

The Services Of My Deceased Friend,  And Expressed My

Regret At Not Being Able To Serve The Memorialist.

"Poor Woman!" Said Mr. Hopewell,  "I Pity Her. A Colonist

Has No Chance For These Things; They Have No Patron. In

This Country Merit Will Always Obtain A Patron--In The

Provinces Never. The English Are A Noble-Minded,  Generous

People,  And Whoever Here Deserves Encouragement Or Reward,

Is Certain To Obtain Either Or Both: But It Must Be A

Brilliant Man,  Indeed,  Whose Light Can Be Perceived Across

The Atlantic."

"I Entertain,  Sir," I Said,  "A Very Strong Prejudice

Against Relying On