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

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,

And 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_."

"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

Life,  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

Yankee 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