“Our condition is a most enviable one. The history of the world has no example to offer of such noble disinterestedness and such liberal rule, as that exhibited by Great Britain to her colonies. If the policy of the Colonial Office is not always good (which I fear is too much to say) it is ever liberal; and if we do not mutually derive all the benefit we might from the connexion, we, at least, reap more solid advantages than we have a right to expect, and more, I am afraid, than our conduct always deserves. I hope the Secretary for the Colonies may have the advantage of making your acquaintance, Sir. Your experience is so great, you might give him a vast deal of useful information, which he could obtain from no one else.
“Minister,” said Mr. Slick, who had just mounted the companion-ladder, “will your honour,” touching his hat, “jist look at your honour’s plunder, and see it’s all right; remember me, Sir; thank your honour. This way, Sir; let me help your honour down. Remember me again, Sir. Thank your honour. Now you may go and break your neck, your honour, as soon as you please; for I’ve got all out of you I can squeeze, that’s a fact. That’s English, Squire—that’s English servility, which they call civility, and English meanness and beggin’, which they call parquisite. Who was that you wanted to see the Minister, that I heerd you a talkin’ of when I come on deck?”
“The Secretary of the Colonies,” I said.
“Oh for goodness sake don’t send that crittur to him,” said he, “or minister will have to pay him for his visit, more, p’raps, than he can afford. John Russell, that had the ribbons afore him, appointed a settler as a member of Legislative Council to Prince Edward’s Island, a berth that has no pay, that takes a feller three months a year from home, and has a horrid sight to do; and what do you think he did? Now jist guess. You give it up, do you? Well, you might as well, for if you was five Yankees biled down to one, you wouldn’t guess it. ‘Remember Secretary’s clerk,’ says he, a touchin’ of his hat, ‘give him a little tip of thirty pound sterling, your honour.’ Well, colonist had a drop of Yankee blood in him, which was about one third molasses, and, of course, one third more of a man than they commonly is, and so he jist ups and says, ‘I’ll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond Jordan fust. The office ain’t worth the fee. Take it and sell it to some one else that has more money nor wit.’ He did, upon my soul.”
“No, don’t send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to me at eleven o’clock to-night, for I shall be the toploftiest feller about that time you’ve seen this while past, I tell you. Stop till I touch land once more, that’s all; the way I’ll stretch my legs ain’t no matter.”
He then uttered the negro ejaculation “chah!—chah!” and putting his arms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary style to the music of a song, which he gave with great expression:
“Oh hab you nebber heerd ob de battle ob Orleens,
Where de dandy Yankee lads gave de Britishers de beans;
Oh de Louisiana boys dey did it pretty slick,
When dey cotch ole Packenham and rode him up a creek.
Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey,
Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey.
“Oh yes, send Secretary to me at eleven or twelve to-night, I’ll be in tune then, jist about up to concart pitch. I’ll smoke with him, or drink with him, or swap stories with him, or wrastle with him, or make a fool of him, or lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I’ve done, I’ll rise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose, bow pretty, and say ‘Remember me, your honour? Don’t forget the tip?’ Lord, how I long to walk into some o’ these chaps, and give ‘em the beans! and I will yet afore I’m many days older, hang me if I don’t. I shall bust, I do expect; and if I do, them that ain’t drownded will be scalded, I know. Chah!—chah!
“Oh de British name is Bull, and de French name is Frog,
And noisy critters too, when a braggin’ on a log,—
But I is an alligator, a floatin’ down stream.
And I’ll chaw both the bullies up, as I would an ice-cream:
Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee,
Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee.
“Yes, I’ve been pent up in that drawer-like lookin’ berth, till I’ve growed like a pine-tree with its branches off—straight up and down. My legs is like a pair of compasses that’s got wet; they are rusty on the hinges, and won’t work. I’ll play leapfrog up the street, over every feller’s head, till I get to the Liners’ Hotel; I hope I may be shot if I don’t. Jube, you villain, stand still there on the deck, and hold up stiff, you nigger. Warny once—warny twice—warny three times; now I come.”