Uncle Ben told the little man, after he closed, that a nation might "get so very ripe as to become a little rotten; and, if he had no objection, he would present him with the 'Sayings of Poor Richard.'" And, suiting the action to the word, he pushed his hand into his breeches-pocket, and pulled out an old almanac, printed at Philadelphia in 1732, and, bowing, handed it to him. The little man thanked him, and promised to deposit it in the Museum, as a curious piece of antiquity.
"Getting somewhat anxious for a smoke, I drew forth a cigar and 'loco-foco,' rubbed the latter across my boot, which flashed out its light full in Uncle Ben's face. 'That is nice,' exclaimed he; 'rather an improvement on the old string, wheel, and tinder plan.' 'Simple, too, isn't it?' said I; 'and yet all the science of your day didn't detect it.' Just then I gave a puff, which made Uncle Ben sneeze; and he broke out into a tirade against tobacco that would read well. But I told him there was no use; men had smoked and chewed the weed—would smoke and chew it, economy or no economy, health or no health, filth or no filth; and that in all probability the last remnant of the great American Republic, for succeeding nations to gaze at, would be a plug of tobacco; for I sincerely believed that tobacco would outlive the government itself.
"The little man proposed returning into the Patent Office, and exhibiting to us in detail the models of art there deposited. But I cannot weary you with what I there saw. The fruits of every year, since the organization of the department, were divided into rooms, and indicated on the door by an inscription. There were thousands of improvements in every branch of science, many of which were so simple, that I thought myself a fool that I did not discover them long ago. Principles were applied, the very operation of which I now recollected to have often seen, yet without a thought of their practical utility. I came to the conclusion that accident was the parent of more that I saw than design; 'for how,' reasoned I, 'is it possible that these pieces of machinery could otherwise have escaped the great men who have lived and died in ignorance of them?'
"By this time we were quite fatigued, and Uncle Ben complained a little of the 'stone,' which he said he was subject to. The little man gave him some 'Elixir of Life,' as he called it, being, as he said, 'an extract of the nutritious portions of meats and vegetables, purged from their grossness as found in their natural state;' and while we were sipping it, he launched forth upon its great benefit to mankind; the money saved that used to be expended in cookery and transportation—millions upon millions; the great economy in time, formerly squandered in eating, &c., &c.; and he wound up his eulogy by presenting each of us with a bottle, which I carefully put away in my pocket.
"Adams then rose up, and said he must leave, and Jefferson, Uncle Ben, and Fulton followed. And in a moment Uncle Ben, Fulton, Adams, Jefferson, the little man, the apartments, wheels, and machinery, began to rock, and heave, and fade, and finally dissolve; and suddenly I awoke!"
"You did awake!" exclaimed the Colonel, drawing a breath all the way from his boots; "I should have thought you would."
Bates gave a yawn, and throwing his quid into the fire, called for a glass of whiskey and water, saying he would "try to choke down the story with that."
Longbow sat perfectly magnetized—his arms folded across his breast, his chin dropped, his legs resting on his boot-heels, and pushed out in front of him, as though he was driving a hard-bitted horse, and his one eye stared vacantly at the coals in the huge fireplace. He gave an unconscious grunt when Smith concluded, but made no commentary.
Turtle said "the dream was very remarkable for such a man as Smith; but he guessed he had it, and he was going to believe it, because it was upon the word of a Puddlefordian. But he'd had one that beat it all holler—s'prisin' dream—like them air visions that somebody unriddled for—he couldn't recollect the name of the man now—no matter, the dream's the same.
"I got up one morning," said Ike, "and went down to my breakfast-table, but there warn't one of my family present. I saw seated around it, however, a strange company of folks, and dressed as no mortals ever were before, since the flood, I reckon. There warn't nothin' that ever I seed before on any on 'em. I took my place at the head of the board, and attempted to do the carvin'; but there warn't nobody that understood my meanin'. Pork warn't pork any more; and when I tried to pass pork, I found that it had a kind-er' fancy name, which I have now forgot.