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

Objects Here,  To Be Unceasing In Their Endeavours To

Obtain That Which,  On Certain Conditions,  Is Promised To

All Hereafter. In Their Worldly Pursuits,  As Men,  It Is

Right For Them To '_Aim High_;' But As Christians,  It Is

Also Their Duty To '_Aim Higher_.'"

Mr. Slick Visited Me Late Last Night,  Dressed As If He

Had Been At A Party,  But Very Cross,  And,  As Usual When

In That Frame Of Mind,  He Vented His Ill-Humour On The

English.

"Where Have You Been To-Night,  Mr. Slick?"

"Jist Where The English Hosses Will Be," He Replied,

"When Old Clay Comes Here To This Country;--No Where. I

Have Been On A Stair-Case,  That's Where I Have Been; And

A Pretty Place To See Company In,  Ain't It? I Have Been

Jammed To Death In An Entry,  And What's Wus Than All,  I

Have Given One Gall A Black Eye With My Elbow,  Tore

Another One's Frock Off With My Buttons,  And Near About

Cut A Third One's Leg In Two With My Hat. Pretty Well

For One Night's Work,  Ain't It? And For Me Too,  That's

So Fond Of The Dear Little Critturs,  I Wouldn't Hurt A

Hair Of Their Head,  If I Could Help It,  To Save My Soul

Alive. What A Spot O' Work!

"What The Plague Do People Mean Here By Askin' A Mob To

Their,  House,  And Invitin' Twice As Many As Can Get Into

It? If They Think It's Complimental,  They Are Infarnally

Mistaken,  That's All: It's An Insult And Nothin' Else,

Makin' A Fool Of A Body That Way. Heavens And Airth! I

Am Wringing Wet! I'm Ready To Faint! Where's The Key Of

Your Cellaret? I Want Some Brandy And Water. I'm Dead;

Bury Me Quick,  For I Won't Be Nice Directly. Oh Dear!

How That Lean Gall Hurt Me! How Horrid Sharp Her Bones

Are!

"I Wish To Goodness You'd Go To A Swoi-Ree Oncet,  Squire,

Jist Oncet--A Grand Let Off,  One That's Upper Crust And

Rael Jam. It's Worth Seein' Oncet Jist As A Show,  I Tell

_You_,  For You Have No More Notion Of It Than A Child.

All Halifax,  If It Was Swept Up Clean And Shook Out Into

A Room,  Wouldn't Make One Swoi-Ree. I Have Been To Three

To Night,  And All On 'Em Was Mobs--Regular Mobs. The

English Are Horrid Fond Of Mobs,  And I Wonder At It Too;

For Of All The Cowardly,  Miserable,  Scarry Mobs,  That

Ever Was Seen In This Blessed World,  The English Is The

Wust. Two Dragoons Will Clear A Whole Street As Quick

As Wink,  Any Time. The Instant They See 'Em,  They Jist

Run Like A Flock Of Sheep Afore A Couple Of Bull Dogs,

And Slope Off Properly Skeered. Lawful Heart,  I Wish

They'd Send For A Dragoon,  All Booted,  And Spurred,  And

Mounted,  And Let Him Gallop Into A Swoi-Ree,  And Charge

The Mob There. He'd Clear 'Em Out _I_ Know,  Double Quick:

He'd Chase One Quarter Of 'Em Down Stairs Head Over Heels,

And Another Quarter Would Jump Out O' The Winders,  And

Break Their Confounded Necks To Save Their Lives,  And

Then The Half That's Left,  Would He Jist About Half Too

Many For Comfort.

"My First Party To-Night Wus A Conversation One; That Is

For Them That _Could_ Talk; As For Me I Couldn't Talk A

Bit,  And All I Could Think Was,  'How Infarnal Hot It Is!

I Wish I Could Get In!' Or,  'Oh Dear,  If I Could Only

Get Out!' It Was A Scientific Party,  A Mob O' Men. Well,

Every Body Expected Somebody Would Be Squashed To Death,

And So Ladies Went,  For They Always Go To Executions.

They've Got A Kinder Nateral Taste For The Horrors,  Have

Women. They Like To See People Hanged Or Trod To Death,

When They Can Get A Chance. It _Was_ A Conversation Warn't

It? That's All. I Couldn't Understand A Word I Heard.

Trap Shale Greywachy; A Petrified Snail,  The Most Important

Discovery Of Modern Times. Bank Governor's Machine Weighs

Sovereigns,  Light Ones Go To The Right,  And Heavy Ones

To The Left.

"'Stop,' Says I,  'If You Mean The Sovereign People Here,

There Are None On 'Em Light. Right And Left Is Both

Monstrous Heavy; All Over Weight,  Every One On 'Em. I'm

Squeezed To Death.'

"'Very Good,  Mr. Slick. Let Me Introduce You To ----,'

They Are Whipt Off In The Current,  And I Don't See 'Em

Again No More. 'A Beautiful Shew Of Flowers,  Madam,  At

The Garden: They Are All In Full Blow Now. The

Rhododendron--Had A Tooth Pulled When She Was Asleep.'

'Please To Let Me Pass,  Sir.' 'With All My Heart,  Miss,

If I Could; But I Can't Move; If I Could I Would Down On

The Carpet,  And You Should Walk Over Me. Take Care Of

Your Feet,  Miss,  I Am Off Of Mine. Lord Bless Me! What's

This? Why As I Am A Livin' Sinner,  It's Half Her Frock

Hitched On To My Coat Button. Now I Know What That Scream

Meant.'

"'How Do You Do,  Mr. Slick? When Did You Come?' 'Why I

Came--' He Is Turned Round,  And Shoved Out O' Hearin.'

'Xanthian Marbles At The British Museum Are Quite Wonderful;

Got Into His Throat,  The Doctor Turned Him Upside Down,

Stood Him On His Head,  And Out It Came--His Own Tunnel

Was Too Small.' 'Oh,  Sir,  You Are Cuttin' Me.' 'Me,  Miss!

Where Had I The Pleasure Of Seein' You Before,  I Never

Cut A Lady In My Life,  Could'nt Do So Rude A Thing.

Havn't The Honour To Recollect You.' 'Oh,  Sir,  Take It

Away,  It Cuts Me.' Poor Thing,  She Is Distracted,  I Don't

Wonder. She's Drove Crazy,  Though I Think She Must Have

Been Mad To Come Here At All. 'Your Hat,  Sir.' 'Oh,  That

Cussed French Hat Is It? Well,  The Rim Is As Stiff And

As Sharp As A Cleaver,  That's A Fact,  I Don't Wonder It

Cut You.' 'Eddis's Pictur--Capital Painting,  Fell Out Of

The Barge,  And Was Drowned.' 'Having Been Beat On The

Shillin' Duty; They Will Attach Him On The Fourpence,

And Thimble Rigg Him Out Of That.' 'They Say Sugden Is

In Town,  Hung In A Bad Light,  At The Temple Church.'

----'Who Is That?' 'Lady Fobus; Paired Off For The Session;

Brodie Operated.'----Lady Francis; Got The Life Guards;

There Will Be A Division To-Night.'----That's Sam Slick;

I'll Introduce You; Made A Capital Speech In The House

Of Lords,  In Answer To Brougham--Lobelia--Voted For The

Bill--The Duchess Is Very Fond Of----Irish Arms--'

"Oh! Now I'm In The Entry. How Tired I Am! It Feels

Shockin' Cold Here,  Too,  Arter Comin' Out O' That Hot

Room. Guess I'll Go To The Grand Musical Party. Come,

This Will Do; This Is Christian-Like,  There Is Room Here;

But The Singin' Is In Next Room,  I Will Go And Hear Them.

Oh! Here They Are Agin; It's A Proper Mob This. Cuss,

These English,  They Can't Live Out Of Mobs. Prince Albert

Is There In That Room; I Must Go And See Him. He Is

Popular; He Is A Renderin' Of Himself Very Agreeable To

The English,  Is Prince: He Mixes With Them As Much As He

Can; And Shews His Sense In That. Church Steeples Are

Very Pretty Things: That One To Antwerp Is Splendiriferous;

It's Everlastin' High,  It Most Breaks Your Neck Layin'

Back Your Head To Look At It; Bend Backward Like A Hoop,

And Stare At It Once With All Your Eyes,  And You Can't

Look Up Agin,  You Are Satisfied. It Tante No Use For A

Prince To Carry A Head So High As That,  Albert Knows

This; He Don't Want To Be Called The Highest Steeple,

Cause All The World Knows He Is About The Top Loftiest;

But He Want's To Descend To The World We Live In.

"With A Queen All Men Love,  And A Prince All Men Like,

Royalty Has A Root In The Heart Here. Pity,  Too,  For The

English Don't Desarve To Have A Queen; And Such A Queen

As They Have Got Too,  Hang Me If They Do. They Ain't Men,

They Hante The Feelin's Or Pride O' Men In 'Em; They

Ain't What They Used To Be,  The Nasty,  Dirty,  Mean-Spirited,

Sneakin' Skunks,  For If They Had A Heart As Big As A

Pea--And That Ain't Any Great Size,  Nother--Cuss 'Em,

When Any Feller Pinted A Finger At Her To Hurt Her,  Or

Even Frighten Her,  They'd String Him Right Up On The

Spot,  To The Lamp Post. Lynch Him Like A Dog That Steals

Sheep Right Off The Reel,  And Save Mad-Doctors,  Skary

Judges,  And Chartist Papers All The Trouble Of Findin'

Excuses. And,  If That Didn't Do,  Chinese Like,  They'd

Take The Whole Crowd Present And Sarve _Them_ Out. They'd

Be Sure To Catch The Right One Then. I Wouldn't Shed

Blood,  Because That's Horrid; It Shocks All Christian

People,  Philosophisin' Legislators,  Sentimental Ladies,

And Spooney Gentlemen. It's Horrid Barbarous That,  Is

Sheddin' Blood; I Wouldn't Do That,  I'd Jist Hang Him.

A Strong Cord Tied Tight Round His Neck Would Keep That

Precious Mixtur,  Traitor's Blood,  All In As Close As If

His Mouth Was Corked,  Wired,  And White-Leaded,  Like A

Champagne Bottle.

"Oh Dear! These Are The Fellers That Come Out A Travellin'

Among Us,  And Sayin' The Difference Atween You And Us Is

'The Absence Of Loyalty.' I've Heard Tell A Great Deal

Of That Loyalty,  But I've Seen Precious Little Of It,

Since I've Been Here,  That's A Fact. I've Always Told

You These Folks Ain't What They Used To Be,  And I See

More And More,  On 'Em Every Day. Yes,  The English Are

Like Their Hosses,  They