John Smith on the Rostrum.
He went into the lecture field, holding forth to large and fashionable audiences, composed of intelligent savages, upon the science of navigation, illustrating his lecture with an old mariner’s compass that indicated all four of the cardinal points at once, and a superannuated bulls-eye watch that would do nothing but tick. These simple-minded children of nature listened with attentive ears, and looked on with wondering eyes, and came down largely with green corn, sardines, silk hats, hard boiled eggs, fall overcoats, pickled oysters, red handkerchiefs, ice cream, dried herring, kid gloves, pickled tripe, and other Indian luxuries, which proved invaluable to the starving, threadbare colonists. Thus it is seen that Mr. Smith obtained on tick[[2]] what he had no cash to pay for.
[2]. The reader may occasionally find this sort of thing in these pages but he is entreated not to be startled.
Although Mr. Smith was regarded as a talented man from a scientific point of view, and was even mentioned in the native papers as undoubtedly a god, yet he was sometimes grossly misunderstood by these artless aborigines, and on one occasion they arrested him on a general charge of hocus-pocus or witchcraft, and carried him before Chief Justice Powhatan to be tried for his life.
The jury brought in a verdict of “guilty” on all the counts, and the hapless Smith was condemned to death. His counsel did all they could to establish an alibi, but in vain. It was a clear case; a fair trial had been given their pale brother and he must suffer the penalty. As a last resort, Mr. Smith offered, first, his bull’s-eye watch, and finally, the old mariner’s compass, for his life, but Judge Powhatan could not see the point. He had never seen a white man die, and was panting for a new sensation. He therefore ordered the entertainment to proceed without more delay.
Having previously had his scalp removed, the doomed man thanked his captors for all their kindness, and requesting the executioner to make a good job of it, placed his head upon the fatal block. The dread instrument of death was uplifted, and Mr. Smith was really apprehensive that his time had come. He closed his eyes and whistled the plaintive air,
“Who will care for my mother-in-law now?”
There was a hush of pleasant anticipation—a deadly silence—you might have heard a pin drop—indeed, you might have heard ten pins drop.
At this supreme moment Pocahontas, the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Judge Powhatan, appeared upon the scene, tastefully dressed as a ballet girl, and using some pretty strong arguments with her father, obtained from him a stay of proceedings, and the prisoner’s life was spared.