The Clockmaker — or, the Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick, of Slickville

by Thomas Chandler Haliburton

I mind once a British man-o'-war took one of our Boston vessels, and ordered all hands on board, and sent a party to skuttle her; well, they skuttled the fowls and the old particular genuine rum, but they obliviated their arrand and left her. Well, next day another frigate (for they were as thick as toads arter a rain) comes near her, and fires a shot for her to bring to. No answer was made, there bein no livin soul on board, and another shot fired, still no answer. Why what on airth is the meanin of this, said the Captain, why dont they haul down that damn goose and gridiron (thats what he called our eagle and stars on the flag.) Why, says the first leftenant, I guess they are all dead men, that shot frightened them to death. They are afeared to show their noses says another, lest they should be shaved off by our shots. They are all down below a "CALCULATIN" their loss I guess, says a third. I'll take my davy says the Captain, its some Yankee trick, a torpedo in her bottom or some such trap—we'll let her be, and sure enough, next day, back she came to shore of herself. I'll give you a quarter of an hour, says the Captain of the Guerriere to his men, to take that are Yankee frigate the Constitution. I guess he found his mistake where he didn't expect it, without any great sarch for it either. Yes; (to eventuate my story) it did me good, I felt dreadful nice, I promise you. It was as lovely as bitters of a cold mornin. Our folks beat 'em arter that so often, they got a little grain too much conceit also. They got their heels too high for their boots, and began to walk like uncle Peleg too, so that when the Chesapeake got whipped I warnt sorry. We could spare that one, and it made our navals look round, like a feller who gets a hoist, to see who's a larfin at him. It made 'em brush the dust off, and walk on rather sheepish. It cut their combs that's a fact. The war did us a plaguy sight of good in more ways than one, and it did the British some good too. It taught 'em not to carry their chins too high, for fear they should'nt see the gutters—a mistake that's spoiled many a bran new coat and trowsers afore now.

Well, these Blue Noses have caught this disease, as folks do the Scotch fiddle, by shakin hands along with the British. Conceit has become here, as Doctor Rush says, (you have heerd tell of him, he's the first man of the age, and its generally allowed our doctors take the shine off of all the world) acclimated, it is citizenised among 'em, and the only cure is a real good quiltin. I met a first chop Colchester Gag this summer a goin to the races to Halifax, and he knowed as much about racin, I do suppose, as a Chictaw Ingian does of a rail road. Well, he was a praisin of his horse, and runnin on like Statiee. He was begot, he said, by Roncesvalles, which was better than any horse that ever was seen, because he was once in a duke's stable in England. It was only a man that had blood like a lord, said he, that knew what blood in a horse was. Capt. Currycomb, an officer at Halifax, had seen his horse and praised him, and that was enough—that stamped him—that fixed his value. It was like the President's name to a bank note, it makes it pass current. Well, says I, I hant got a drop of blood in me nothin stronger than molasses and water, I vow, but I guess I know a horse when I see him for all that, and I dont think any great shakes of your beast, any how; what start will you give me, says I, and I will run "Old Clay" agin you, for a mile lick right an eend. Ten rods, said he, for twenty dollars. Well, we run, and I made "Old Clay" bite in his breath and only beat him by half a neck. A tight scratch says I, that, and it would have sarved me right if I had been beat. I had no business to run an old roadster so everlastin fast, it aint fair on him, is it? Says he, I will double the bet and start even, and run you agin if you dare. Well, says I, since I won the last it would'nt be pretty not to give you a chance; I do suppose I oughtn't to refuse, but I dont love to abuse my beast by knockin him about this way.

As soon as the money was staked, I said, had'nt we better, says I, draw stakes, that are blood horse of yourn has such uncommon particular bottom, he'll perhaps leave me clean out of sight. No fear of that, said he, larfin, but he'll beat you easy, any how. No flinchin, says he, I'll not let you go back of the bargain. Its run or forfeit. Well, says I, friend, there is fear of it; your horse will leave me out of sight, to a sartainty, thats a fact, for he CANT KEEP UP TO ME NO TIME. I'll drop him, hull down, in tu twos. If old Clay did'nt make a fool of him, its a pity. Did'nt he gallop pretty, that's all? He walked away from him, jist as the Chancellor Livingston steam boat passes a sloop at anchor in the north river. Says I, I told you your horse would beat me clean out of sight, but you would'nt believe me; now, says I, I will tell you something else. That are horse will help, you to lose more money to Halifax than you are a thinkin on; for there aint a beast gone down there that wont beat him. He cant run a bit, and you may tell the British Captain I say so. Take him home and sell him, buy a good yoke of oxen; they are fast enough for a farmer, and give up blood horses to them that can afford to keep stable helps to tend 'em, and leave bettin alone to them, as has more money nor wit, and can afford to lose their cash, without thankin agin of their loss. When I WANT your advice, said he, I will ASK IT, most peskily sulky. You might have got it before you AXED for it, said I, but not afore you WANTED it, you may depend on it. But stop, said I, let's see that all's right afore we part; so I counts over the fifteen pounds I won of him, note by note, as slow as any thing, on purpose to ryle him, then I mounts "old Clay" agin, and says I, friend, you have considerably the advantage of me this hitch, any how. Possible! says he, how's that? Why, says I, I guess you'll return rather lighter than you came—and that's more nor I can say, any how, and then I gave him a wink and a jupe of the head, as much as to say, "do you take?" and rode on and left him starin and scratchin his head like a feller who's lost his road. If that citizen aint a born fool, or too far gone in the disease, depend on't, he found "A CURE FOR CONCEIT."

No. XXIII

The Blowin Time.

The long rambling dissertation on conceit to which I had just listened, from the Clockmaker, forcibly reminded me of the celebrated aphorism "gnothi seauton," know thyself, which, both from its great antiquity and wisdom, has been by many attributed to an oracle.

With all his shrewdness to discover, and his humor to ridicule the foibles of others, Mr. Slick was kind to the many defects of his own character; and, while prescribing "a cure for conceit," exhibited in all he said, and all he did, the most overweening conceit himself. He never spoke of his own countrymen, without calling them "the most free and enlightened citizens on the face of the airth," or as "takin the shine off of all creation." His country he boasted to be the "best atween the poles," "the greatest glory under heaven." The Yankees he considered (to use his expression) as "actilly the class-leaders in knowledge among all the Americans," and boasted that they have not only "gone ahead of all others," but had lately arrived at that most enviable no plus ultra point "of goin ahead of themselves." In short, he entertained no doubt that Slickville was the finest place in the greatest nation in the world, and the Slick family the wisest family in it. I was about calling his attention to this national trait, when I saw him draw his reins under his foot, (a mode of driving peculiar to himself, when he wish'd to economise the time that would otherwise be lost by an unnecessary delay,) and taking off his hat, (which, like a pedlar's pack, contained a general assortment,) select from a number of loose cigars one that appeared likely to "go," as he called it. Having lighted it by a lucifer, and ascertained that it was "true in draft," he resumed his reins and remarked, This must be an everlastin fine country beyond all doubt, for the folks have nothin to do but to ride about and talk politics. In winter, when the ground is covered with snow, what grand times they have a slayin over these here mashes with the galls, or playin ball on the ice, or goin to quiltin frolics of nice long winter evenings and then a drivin home like mad, by moonlight. Natur meant that season on purpose for courtin. A little tidy scrumptious lookin slay, a real clipper of a horse, a string of bells as long as a string of inions round his neck, and a sprig on his back, lookin for all the world like a bunch of apples broke off at gatherin time, and a sweetheart alongside, all muffled up but her eyes and lips—the one lookin right into you, and the other talkin right at you—is een a most enough to drive one ravin tarin distracted mad with pleasure, aint it? And then the dear critters say the bells make such a din there's no hearin one's self speak; so they put their pretty little mugs close up to your face, and talk, talk, talk, till one can't help lookin right at them instead of the horse, and then whap you both go capsized into, a snow drift together, skins, cushions and all. And then to see the little critter shake herself when she gets up, like a duck landin from a pond, a chatterin away all the time like a Canary bird, and you a haw-hawin with pleasure, is fun alive, you may depend. In this way Blue Nose gets led on to offer himself as a lovier, afore he knows where he bees. But when he gets married, he recovers his eyesight in little less than half no time. He soon finds he's treed; his flint is fixed then, you may depend. She larns him how vinegar is made: Put plenty of sugar into the water aforehand, my dear, says she, if you want to make it real sharp. The larf is on the other side of his mouth then. If his slay gets upsot, its no longer a funny matter, I tell you; he catches it right and left. Her eyes don't look right up to hisn any more, nor her little tongue ring, ring, ring, like a bell any longer, but a great big hood covers her head, and a whappin great muff covers her face, and she looks like a bag of soiled clothes agoin to the brook to be washed. When they get out, she don't wait any more for him to walk lock and lock with her, but they march like a horse and a cow to water, one in each gutter. If there aint a transmogrification its a pity. The difference atween a wife and a sweetheart is near about as great as there is between new and hard cider—a man never tires of puttin one to his lips, but makes plaguy wry faces at tother. It makes me so kinder wamblecropt when I think on it, that I'm afeared to venture on matrimony at all. I have seen some Blue Noses most properly bit, you may depend. You've seen a boy a slidin on a most beautiful smooth bit of ice, ha'nt you, larfin, and hoopin, and hallooin like one possessed, when presently sowse he goes in over head and ears? How he out fins and flops about, and blows like a porpoise properly frightened, don't he? and when he gets out there he stands; all shiverin and shakin, and the water a squish-squashin in his shoes, and his trowsers all stickin slimsey like to his legs. Well, he sneaks off home, lookin like a fool, and thinkin every body he meets is a larfin at him—many folks here are like that are boy, afore they have been six months married. They'd be proper glad to get out of the scrape too, and sneak off if they could, that's a fact. The marriage yoke is plaguy apt to gall the neck, as the ash bow does the ox in rainy weather, unless it be most particularly well fitted. You've seen a yoke of cattle that warn't properly mated, they spend more strength in pullin agin each other, than in pullin the load. Well that's apt to be the case with them as choose their wives in sleighin parties, quiltin frolicks, and so on; instead of the dairies, looms, and cheese house. Now the Blue Noses are all a stirrin in winter. The young folks drive out the galls, and talk love and all sorts of things as sweet as dough-nuts. The old folks find it near about as well to leave the old women to home, for fear they should'nt keep tune together; so they drive out alone to chat about House of Assembly with their neighbors, while the boys and hired helps do the chores. When the Spring comes, and the fields are dry enough to be sowed, they all have to be plowed, CAUSE FALL RAINS WASH THE LANDS TOO MUCH FOR FALL PLOUGHIN. Well the plows have to be mended and sharpened, CAUSE WHAT'S THE USE OF DOIN THAT AFORE ITS WANTED. Well the wheat gets in too late, and then comes rust, but whose fault is that? WHY THE CLIMATE TO BE SURE, FOR NOVA SCOTIA AINT A BREAD COUNTRY.

When a man has to run ever so far as fast as he can clip, he has to stop and take breath; you must do that or choke. So it is with a horse; run him a mile, and his flanks will heave like a Blacksmith's bellows; you must slack up the rein and give him a little wind, or he'll fall right down with you. It stands to reason, don't it? Atwixt spring and fall work is "BLOWIN TIME." Then Courts come on, and Grand Jury business, and Militia trainin, and Race trainin, and what not; and a fine spell of ridin about and doin nothin, a real "BLOWIN TIME." Then comes harvest, and that is proper hard work, mowin and pitchin hay, and reapin and bindin grain, and potatoe diggin. That's as hard as sole leather, afore its hammered on the lap stone—it's most next to any thing. It takes a feller as tuff as Old Hickory (General Jackson) to stand that.

Ohio is most the only country I knew of where folks are saved that trouble; and there the freshets come jist in the nick of time for 'em, and sweep all the crops right up in a heap for 'em, and they have nothin to do but take it home and house it, and sometimes a man gets more than his own crop, and finds a proper swad of it all ready piled up, only a little wet or so; but all countries aint like Ohio. Well, arter harvest comes fall, and then there's a grand "blowin time" till spring. Now, how the Lord the Blue Noses can complain of their country, when its only one third work and two-thirds "blowin time," no soul can tell. Father used to say, when I lived on the farm along with him—Sam, says he, I vow I wish there was jist four hundred days in the year, for its a plaguy sight too short for me. I can find as much work as all hands on us can do for 365 days, and jist 35 days more, if we had 'em. We han't got a minit to spare; you must shell the corn and winner the grain at night, and clean all up slick, or I guess we'll fall astarn as sure as the Lord made Moses. If he didn't keep us all at it, a drivin away full chisel, the whole blessed time, its a pity. There was no "blowin time" there, you may depend. We plowed all the fall for dear life; in winter we thrashed, made and mended tools, went to market and mill, and got out our firewood and rails. As soon as frost was gone, came sowin and plantin, weedin and hoein—then harvest and spreadin compost—then gatherin manure, fencin and ditchin—and then turn tu and fall plowin agin. It all went round like a wheel without stoppin, and so fast, I guess you couldn't see the spokes, just one long everlastin stroke from July to etarnity, without time to look back on the tracks. Instead of racin over the country like a young doctor, to show how busy a man is that has nothin to do, as Blue Nose does, and then take a "blowin time," we kept a rale travellin gate, an eight-mile-an-hour pace, the whole year round. THEY BUY MORE NOR THEY SELL, AND EAT MORE THAN THEY RAISE, in this country. What a pretty way that is, is'nt it? If the critters knew how to cypher, they would soon find out that a sum stated that way always eends in a naught. I never knew it to fail, and I defy any soul to cypher it so, as to make it come out any other way, either by Schoolmaster's Assistant or Algebra. When I was a boy, the Slickville bank broke, and an awful disorderment it made, that's a fact; nothin else was talked of. Well, I studied it over a long time, but I could'nt make it out: so says I, Father, how came that are bank to break? Warn't it well built? I thought that are Quincy granite was so amazin strong all natur would'nt break it. Why you foolish critter, says he, it tante the buildin that's broke, its the consarn that's smashed. Well, says I, I know folks are plaguilly consarned about it, but what do you call "folks smashin their consarns?" Father he larfed out like any thing; I thought he never would stop—and sister Sall got right up and walked out of the room, as mad as a hatter. Says she, Sam, I do believe you are a born fool, I vow. When father had done larfin, says he, I'll tell you, Sam, how it was. They cyphered it so that they brought out nothin for a remainder. Possible! says I; I thought there was no eend to their puss. I thought it was like Uncle Peleg's musquash hole, and that no soul could ever find the bottom of. My!! says I. Yes, says he, that are bank spent and lost more money than it made, and when folks do that, they must smash at last, if their puss be as long as the national one of Uncle Sam. This Province is like that are Bank of ourn, it's goin the same road, and they'll find the little eend of the horn afore they think they are halfway down to it.

If folks would only give over talkin about that everlastin House of Assembly and Council, and see to their farms, it would be better for 'em, I guess; for arter all, what is it? Why it's only a sort of first chop Grand Jury, and nothin else. It's no more like Congress or Parliament, than Marm Pugwash's keepin room is like our State hall. It's jist nothin—Congress makes war and peace, has a say in all treaties, confarms all great nominations of the President, regilates the army and navy, governs twenty-four independent States, and snaps its fingers in the face of all the nations of Europe, as much as to say, who be you? I allot I am as big as you be. If you are six foot high, I am six foot six in my stockin feet, by gum, and can lambaste any two on you in no time. The British can whip all the world, and we can whip the British. But this little House of Assembly that folks make such a touss about, what is it? Why jist a decent Grand Jury. They make their presentments of little money votes, to mend these everlastin rottin little wooden bridges, to throw a poultice of mud once a year on the roads, and then take a "blowin time" of three months and go home. The littler folks be, the bigger they talk. You never seed a small man that did'nt wear high heel boots, and a high, crowned bat, and that war'nt ready to fight most any one, to show he was a man every inch of him. I met a member the other day, who swaggered near about as large as Uncle Peleg. He looked as if he thought you could'nt find his "ditto" any where. He used some most particular educational words, genuine jaw-breakers. He put me in mind of a squirrel I once shot in our wood location. The little critter got a hickory nut in his mouth; well, he found it too hard to crack, and too big to swaller, and for the life and soul of him, he could'nt spit it out agin. If he did'nt look like a proper fool, you may depend. We had a pond back of our barn about the bigness of a good sizeable wash-tub, and it was chock full of frogs. Well, one of these little critters fancied himself a bull-frog, and he puffed out his cheeks, and took a real "blowin time" of it; he roared away like thunder; at last he puffed and puffed out till he bust like a byler. If I see the Speaker this winter, (and I shall see him to a sartainty if they don't send for him to London, to teach their new Speaker) and he's up to snuff, that are man; he knows how to cypher—I'll jist say to him, Speaker, says I, if any of your folks in the House go to swell out like dropsy, give 'em a hint in time. Says you, if you have are a little safety valve about you, let off a little steam now and then, or you'll go for it; recollect the Clockmaker's story of the "Blowin time."