“Good,” said he; “I am satisfied. I quite agree with Sam, though. Indeed, I go further. I do not think he has advised you to recommend your boys to ‘aim high enough.’”
“Creation! said Mr. Slick, “how much higher do you want provincial frogs to go, than to be ‘Chancellor’ and ‘Primate?’
“I’ll tell you, Sam; I’d advise them to ‘aim higher’ than earthly honours. I would advise them to do their duty, in any station of life in which it shall please Providence to place them; and instead of striving after unattainable objects here, to be unceasing in their endeavours to obtain that which, on certain conditions, is promised to all hereafter. In their worldly pursuits, as men, it is right for them to ‘aim high;’ but as Christians, it is also their duty to ‘aim higher.’”
CHAPTER XI. A SWOI-REE.
Mr. Slick visited me late last night, dressed as if he had been at a party, but very cross, and, as usual when in that frame of mind, he vented his ill-humour on the English.
“Where have you been to-night, Mr. Slick?”
“Jist where the English hosses will be,” he replied, “when Old Clay comes here to this country;—no where. I have been on a stair-case, that’s where I have been; and a pretty place to see company in, ain’t it? I have been jammed to death in an entry, and what’s wus than all, I have given one gall a black eye with my elbow, tore another one’s frock off with my buttons, and near about cut a third one’s leg in two with my hat. Pretty well for one night’s work, ain’t it? and for me too, that’s so fond of the dear little critturs, I wouldn’t hurt a hair of their head, if I could help it, to save my soul alive. What a spot o’ work!
“What the plague do people mean here by askin’ a mob to their house, and invitin’ twice as many as can get into it? If they think it’s complimental, they are infarnally mistaken, that’s all: it’s an insult and nothin’ else, makin’ a fool of a body that way. Heavens and airth! I am wringing wet! I’m ready to faint! Where’s the key of your cellaret? I want some brandy and water. I’m dead; bury me quick, for I won’t be nice directly. Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp her bones are!
“I wish to goodness you’d go to a Swoi-ree oncet, Squire, jist oncet—a grand let off, one that’s upper crust and rael jam. It’s worth seein’ oncet jist as a show, I tell you, for you have no more notion of it than a child. All Halifax, if it was swept up clean and shook out into a room, wouldn’t make one swoi-ree. I have been to three to night, and all on ‘em was mobs—regular mobs. The English are horrid fond of mobs, and I wonder at it too; for of all the cowardly, miserable, scarry mobs, that ever was seen in this blessed world, the English is the wust. Two dragoons will clear a whole street as quick as wink, any time. The instant they see ‘em, they jist run like a flock of sheep afore a couple of bull dogs, and slope off properly skeered. Lawful heart, I wish they’d send for a dragoon, all booted, and spurred, and mounted, and let him gallop into a swoi-ree, and charge the mob there. He’d clear ‘em out I know, double quick: he’d chase one quarter of ‘em down stairs head over heels, and another quarter would jump out o’ the winders, and break their confounded necks to save their lives, and then the half that’s left, would he jist about half too many for comfort.