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 con-sider the cause of this to be,’ said Pogram, looking round again and taking himself up where Martin had interrupted him, ‘partly jealousy and pre-judice, and partly the nat’ral unfitness of the British people to appreciate the ex-alted Institutions of our native land. I expect, sir,’ turning to Martin again, ‘that a gentleman named Chollop happened in upon you during your lo-cation 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.’