For inspector of fish, because his father went on a mackerel voyage when he was a boy.
For toll-keeper of the Potomac bridge, because his mother was of a misanthropic turn of mind.
For firewarden, because he was blown up with gunpowder when he was a child. And with each rebuff in Mr. John Sapp's line of applications, his uncles were the more indignant for the ingratitude of the world.
So was Mr. Sapp; but none the less did he push his traverses towards the works of what he called the common enemy.
He was at one time urging his claims to be employed inspector of Orange Peel, as it was found on sidewalks,—a post for which he was specially fitted, because a boy with whom he went to school was our consul at Fayal. Some one who met him said, very unkindly, that John Sapp's life seemed to be a very easy one; and the phrase came to John's ears. "Easy?" said he. "I should like to know what is hard. This fellow thinks all you have to do is to ask to be appointed Inspector of Orange Peel, and then to begin to draw the salary. Shows what he knows of our business.
"Now see; this inspector is appointed by the county commissioners. Have to find out who they are. Make no mistake. Get the names right first,—all the letters right. William Claflin and Tennie Claflin's husband not the same man,—very different men. Then find out their friends,—where they go to church, who's the minister, who's the doctor, what bank they're in, and so on. Then find out who knows the friends. See?
"Then begin. Speak first to John Jones at the barber's or post-office quite accidentally. Get John Jones to give you letter—see?—to introduce you to David Dodder. See? Simple letter,—general letter. 'Friend Mr. Sapp,—little matter of business.' Then call on David Dodder—see?—after dinner, when he's good-natured. Ask him to introduce you to William Belcher,—'important matter of business, necessary for public benefit.' See? Then go to William Belcher,—best coat on, clean shirt, shaved on purpose,—and ask him for letter of introduction to county commissioners,—knows 'em all,—see?—something like this:—
"'My dear Mr. Sheriff,—Will you present to the county commissioners my friend Mr. John Sapp, who is a candidate for the Inspection of Orange Peel? I do not personally know Mr. Sapp, whose public service has been mostly at Washington; but my friend, Mr. Dodder, on whose judgment I rely, &c., &c. See?
"Now," said Mr. Sapp, when he explained this, "what man says it is easy to get those letters together? What man says I did not earn this inspectorship by hard work? And when a fellow's got it, I'll be hanged if the Know-nothings did not come in before I had been in office a week, and before I had any chance to join them; and I was turned out before I had inspected one orange!"
Mr. Carlyle says that the hatter of the present day, instead of exerting himself to make good hats, exerts himself to write good advertisements of hats, or to make the largest hat that can be made of lath and plaster, to be carted round the streets of London upon wheels, bearing advertisements of his hat store. The evil is not a new one. The cat in Æsop told the fox that she had but one way to save her life, if the enemy should come. "How sad!" said the fox. "I have a hundred; and I will explain them to you." Just as he began to explain, the hounds dashed upon them. The cat ran up a tree, and was safe; but the fox, at the end of his hundredth turn, was devoured. Mr. John Sapp was as badly off as the fox. He was fit for a hundred places, but he never could stay in one of them. Had he known how to do one thing, he could have done it his life long.