While Tommy was thus revenging the affronts he imagined he had received, and chasing the vanquished about the court, the unusual noise and uproar which ensued reached the ears of Mr Barlow, and brought him to the door. He could hardly help laughing at the rueful figure of his friend, with the water dropping from every part of his body in copious streams, and at the rage which seemed to animate him in spite of his disaster. It was with some difficulty that Tommy could compose himself enough to give Mr Barlow an account of his misfortunes, which, when he had heard, he immediately led him into the house, and advised him to undress and go to bed. He then brought him some warm diluting
liquors, by which means he avoided all the bad effects which might otherwise have arisen from so complete a drenching.
The next day Mr Barlow laughed at Tommy in his usual good-natured manner, and asked him if he intended to ride out in the Kamtschatkan manner; adding, however, that he should be afraid to attend him, as he had the habit of beating his companions. Tommy was a little confounded at this insinuation, but replied, "that he should not have been so provoked if they had not laughed at his misfortunes, and he thought it very hard to be wetted and ridiculed both." "But," replied Mr Barlow, "did their noise or laughter do you any great damage, that you endeavoured to return it so roughly?" Tommy answered, "that he must own it did not do him any hurt, or give him any pain." "Why, then," said Mr Barlow, "I do not see the justice of your returning it in that manner." "But," said Tommy, "it is so provoking to be laughed at!" "There are two ways of remedying that," replied Mr Barlow, "either not doing such things as will expose you to ridicule, or by learning to bear it with a little more patience." "But," said Tommy, "I do not think that anybody can bear it with patience." "All the world," said Mr Barlow, "are not quite so passionate as you are. It is not long ago that you were speaking of the poor Greenlanders with great contempt, and fancying them much inferior to yourself; yet those poor barbarians, as you called them, that live upon fish, and are not brought up like gentlemen's sons, are capable of giving you a lesson that would be of the greatest service if you would but
observe it." "What is that, sir?" inquired Tommy. "They are brought up to so much moderation and self-command," said Mr Barlow, "that they never give way to those sudden impulses of passion that are common among the Europeans; and when they observe their violent gestures, their angry words, their countenances inflamed with wrath, they feel for them the greatest contempt, and say they must have been very badly educated. As to themselves, if any person think himself ill-used by another, without putting himself into any passion upon the occasion, he defies his foe to meet him at a particular time, before all their mutual acquaintance."
Tommy.—But then I suppose they fight; and that is being as passionate as I was.
Barlow.—I am sorry that you, who pretend to have been so well brought up, should have recourse to the example of the Greenlanders, in order to justify your own conduct; but in this case you are mistaken, for the barbarians are a great deal wiser than young gentlemen. The person who thinks himself injured does indeed challenge his antagonist, but it is to a very different sort of combat from what you imagine. Both parties appear at the appointed time, and each surrounded with a company of his particular friends. The place where they assemble is generally the middle of one of their large huts, that all the persons of their society may be impartial spectators of their contest. When they are thus convened, the champion, who by agreement is to begin, steps forward into the middle of the circle, and entertains them with a song or speech, which he has before medi
tated. In this performance he generally contrives to throw all the ridicule he is able upon his antagonist, and his satire is applauded by his own party, and excites universal merriment among the audience. When he has sung or declaimed himself out of breath, it is the turn of his rival to begin, who goes on in the same manner, answering all the satire that has been thrown upon him, and endeavouring to win the laughter over to his own side. In this manner do the combatants go on, alternately reciting their compositions against each other, till the memory or invention of one of them fails, and he is obliged to yield the victory to his rival. After this public spectacle of their ingenuity, the two champions generally forget all their animosities, and are cordially reconciled. "This," added Mr Barlow, "appears to me to be a much better method of answering ridicule, than by giving way to passion and resentment, and beating those that displease us; and one of these honest Greenlanders would be as much ashamed of such a sudden transport of anger as a Kamtschatkan traveller would be of managing his dogs as ill as you did yesterday."