No. XIX
The Clockmaker Quilts a Blue Nose.
The descendants of Eve have profited little by her example. The curiosity of the fair sex is still insatiable, and, as it is often ill directed, it frequently terminates in error. In the country this feminine propensity is troublesome to a traveller, and he who would avoid importunities, would do well to announce at once, on his arrival at a Cumberland Inn, his name and his business, the place of his abode and the length of his visit. Our beautiful hostess, Mrs. Pugwash, as she took her seat at the breakfast table this morning, exhibited the example that suggested these reflections. She was struck with horror at our conversation, the latter part only of which she heard, and of course misapplied and misunderstood. She was run down by the President, said I, and has been laid up for some time. Gulard's people have stripped her, in consequence of her making water so fast. Stripped whom? said Mrs. Pugwash, as she suddenly dropped the teapot from her hand; stripped whom,—for heaven's sake tell me who it is? The Lady Ogle, said I. Lady Ogle, said she, how horrid! Two of her ribs were so broken as to require to be replaced with new ones. Two new ribs, said she, well I never heer'd the beat of that in all my born days; poor critter, how she must have suffered. On examining her below the waist they found—Examining her still lower, said she (all the pride of her sex revolting at the idea of such an indecent exhibition,) you don't pretend to say they stripped her below the waist; what did the Admiral say? Did he stand by and see her handled in that way? The Admiral, madam, said I, did not trouble his head about it. They found her extremely unsound there, and much worm eaten. Worm eaten, she continued, how awful! it must have been them nasty jiggers, that got in there; they tell me they are dreadful thick in the West Indies; Joe Crow had them in his feet, and lost two of his toes. Worm eaten, dear, dear!! but still that aint so bad as having them great he fellows strip one. I promise you if them Gulards had undertaken to strip me, I'd a taught them different guess manners; I'd a died first before I'd a submitted to it. I always heerd tell the English quality ladies were awful bold, but I never heerd the like o' that.
What on airth are you drivin at? said Mr. Slick. I never seed you so much out in your latitude afore, marm, I vow. We were talking of reparin a vessel, not strippin' a woman, what under the sun could have put that are crotchet into your head? She looked mortified and humbled at the result of her own absurd curiosity, and soon quitted the room. I thought I should have snorted right out two or three times, said the Clockmaker; I had to pucker up my mouth like the upper eend of a silk puss, to keep from yawhawin in her face, to hear the critter let her clapper run that fashion. She is not the first hand that has caught a lobster, by puttin in her oar afore her turn, I guess. She'll mind her stops next hitch, I reckon. This was our last breakfast at Amherst.
An early frost that smote the potatoe fields, and changed the beautiful green color of the Indian corn into shades of light yellow, and dark brown, reminded me of the presence of autumn—of the season of short days and bad roads, I determined to proceed at once to Parrsboro, and thence by the Windsor and Kentville route to Annapolis, Yarmouth, and Shelburne, and to return by the shore road, through Liverpool and Lunenburg to Halifax. I therefore took leave, (though not without much reluctance) of the Clockmaker, whose intention had been to go to Fort Lawrence. Well, said he, I vow I am sorry to part company along with you; a considerable long journey like ourn, is like sitting up late with the galls, a body knows its getting on pretty well towards mornin, and yet feels loth to go to bed, for its just the time folks grow sociable.
I got a scheme in my head, said he, that I think will answer both on us; I got debts due to me in all them are places for Clocks sold by the concarn, now suppose you leave your horse on these mashes this fall, he'll get as fat as a fool, he wont be able to see out of his eyes in a month, and I'll put "Old Clay," (I call him Clay arter our senator, who is a prime bit of stuff) into a Yankee waggon I have here, and drive you all round the coast. This was too good an offer to be declined. A run at grass for my horse, an easy and comfortable waggon, and a guide so original and amusing as Mr. Slick, were either of them enough to induce my acquiescence.
As soon as we had taken our seats in the waggon, he observed, we shall progress real handsum now; that are horse goes etarnal fast, he near about set my axle on fire twice. He's a spanker you may depend. I had him when he was a two year old, all legs and tail, like a devil's darnin needle, and had him broke on purpose by father's old nigger, January Snow. He knows English real well, and can do near about any thing but speak it. He helped me once to ginn a Blue Nose a proper handsum quiltin. He must have stood a poor chance indeed, said I, a horse kickin, and a man striking him at the same time. Oh! not arter that pattern at all, said he, Lord if "Old Clay" had a kicked him, he'd a smashed him like that are sarcer you broke at Pugnose's inn, into ten hundred thousand million flinders. Oh! no, if I did'nt fix his flint for him in fair play it's a pity. I'll tell you how it was. I was up to Truro, at Ezra Whitter's Inn. There was an arbitration there atween Deacon Text and Deacon Faithful. Well, there was a nation sight of folks there, for they said it was a biter bit, and they came to witness the sport, and to see which critter would get the earmark.
Well, I'd been doin a little business there among the folks, and had jist sot off for the river, mounted on "Old Clay," arter takin a glass of Ezra's most particular handsum Jamaiky, and was trottin off pretty slick, when who should I run agin but Tim Bradley. He is a dreadful ugly cross grained critter, as you een amost ever seed, when he is about half shaved. Well, I stopped short, and says, I, Mr. Bradley, I hope you beant hurt; I'm proper sorry I run agin you, you cant feel uglier than I do about it, I do assure you. He called me a Yankee pedlar, a cheatin vagabond, a wooden nutmeg, and threw a good deal of assorted hardware of that kind at me; and the crowd of folks cried out, down with the Yankee, let him have it Tim, teach him better manners; and they carried on pretty high, I tell you. Well, I got my dander up too, I felt all up on eend like; and, thinks I to myself, my lad if I get a clever chance, I'll give you such a quiltin as you never had since you were raised from a seedlin, I vow. So, says I, Mr Bradley, I guess you had better let me be, you know I cant fight no more than a cow—I never was brought up to wranglin, and I don't like it. Haul off the cowardly rascal, they all bawled out, haul him off, and lay it into him. So he lays right hold of me by the collar, and gives me a pull, and I lets on as if I'd lost my balance and falls right down. Then I jumps up on eend, and says I "go ahead Clay," and the old horse he sets off a head, so I knew I had him when I wanted him. Then, says I, I hope you are satisfied now, Mr Bradley, with that are ungenteel fall you ginn me. Well, he makes a blow at me, and I dodged it, now, says I, you'll be sorry for this, I tell you, I wont be treated this way for nothin, I'll go right off and swear my life agin you, I'm most afeerd you'll murder me. Well, he strikes at me agin, (thinkin he had a genuine soft horn to deal with,) and hits me in the shoulder. Now, says I, I wont stand here to be lathered like a dog all day long this fashion, it tante pretty at all, I guess I'll give you a chase for it. Off I sets arter my horse like mad, and he arter me, (I did that to get clear of the crowd, so that I might have fair play at him) Well, I soon found I had the heels of him, and could play him as I liked. Then I slackened up a little, and when he came close up to me, so as nearly to lay his hand upon me, I squatted right whap down, all short, and he pitched over me near about a rod or so, I guess, on his head, and plowed up the ground with his nose, the matter of a foot or two. If he didn't polish up the coulter, and both mould boards of his face, its a pity. Now, says I, you had better lay where you be and let me go, for I am proper tired; I blow like a horse that's got the heaves; and besides, says I, I guess you had better wash your face, for I am most a feared you hurt yourself. That ryled him properly; I meant that it should; so he ups and at me awful spiteful like a bull; then I lets him have it, right, left, right, jist three corkers, beginning with the right hand, shifting to the left, and then with the right hand agin. This way I did it, said the Clockmaker, (and he showed me the manner in which it was done) its a beautiful way of hitting, and always does the business—a blow for each eye and one for the mouth. It sounds like ten pounds ten on a blacksmith's anvil; I bunged up both eyes for him, and put in the dead lights in two tu's, and drew three of his teeth, quicker a plaguy sight than the Truro doctor could, to save his soul alive. Now, says I, my friend, when you recover your eye-sight I guess you'll see your mistake—I warnt born in the woods to be scared by an owl. The next time you feel in a most particular elegant good humour, come to me and I'll play you the second part of that identical same tune, that's a fact. With that, I whistled for old Clay, and back he comes, and I mounted and off, jist as the crowd came up. The folks looked staggered, and wondered a little grain how it was done so cleverly in short metre. If I did'nt quilt him in no time, you may depend; I went right slap into him, like a flash of lightning into a gooseberry bush. He found his suit ready made and fitted afore he thought he was half measured. Thinks I, friend Bradley, I hope you know yourself now, for I vow no livin soul would; your swallowed your soup without singin out scaldins, and your near about a pint and a half nearer cryin than larfin.
Yes, as I was sayin, this "old Clay" is a real knowin one, he's as spry as a colt jet, clear grit, ginger to the back bone; I cant help a thinkin sometimes the breed must have come from old Kentuck, half horse, half alligator, with a cross of the airth-quake.
I hope I may be tetotally ruinated, if I'd take eight hundred dollars for him. Go ahead, you old clinker built villain, said he, and show the gentleman how wonderful handSUM you can travel. Give him the real Connecticut quick step. That's it—that's the way to carry the President's message to Congress, from Washington to New York, in no time—that's the go to carry a gall from Boston to Rhode Island, and trice her up to a Justice to be married, afore her father's out of bed of a summer's mornin. Aint he a beauty? a real doll? none of your Cumberland critters, that the more you quilt them, the more they wont go; but a proper one, that will go free gratis for nothin, all out of his own head voluntERRILY. Yes, a horse like "Old Clay," is worth the whole seed, breed and generation, of them Amherst beasts put together. He's a horse, every inch of him, stock, lock, and barrel, is OLD CLAY.