CHAPTER XI. COTTAGES.
On the tenth day after we landed at Liverpool, we arrived in London andsettled ourselves very comfortably in lodgings at No. 202, Piccadilly,where every possible attention was paid to us by our landlord and hiswife, Mr. and Mrs. Weeks. We performed the journey in a post-chaise,fearing that the rapid motion of a rail car might have an unpleasanteffect upon the health of Mr. Hope well.
Of the little incidents of travel that occurred to us, or of the variousobjects of attraction on the route, it is not my intention to giveany account. Our journey was doubtless much like the journeys of otherpeople, and every thing of local interest is to be found in Guide Books,or topographical works, which are within the reach of every body.
This book, however imperfect its execution may be, is altogether ofanother kind. I shall therefore pass over this and other subsequentjourneys, with no other remark, than that they were performed, untilsomething shall occur illustrative of the objects I have in view.
On this occasion I shall select from my diary a description of thelabourer's cottage, and the parish church; because the one shews thehabits, tastes, and condition of the poor of this country, in contrastwith that of America--and the other, the relative means of religiousinstruction, and its effect on the lower orders.
On the Saturday morning, while preparing to resume our journey, whichwas now nearly half completed, Mr. Hopewell expressed a desire to remainat the inn where we were, until the following Monday. As the day wasfine, he said he should like to ramble about the neighbourhood, andenjoy the fresh air. His attention was soon drawn to some very beautifulnew cottages.
"These," said he, "are no doubt erected at the expense, and for thegratification of some great landed proprietor. They are not the abodesof ordinary labourers, but designed for some favoured dependant or agedservant. They are expensive toys, but still they are not without theiruse. They diffuse a taste among the peasantry--they present them withmodels, which, though they cannot imitate in costliness of material orfinish, they can copy in arrangement, and in that sort of decoration,which flowers, and vines, and culture, and care can give. Let us seekone which is peculiarly the poor man's cottage, and let us go in and seewho and what they are, how they live, and above all, how they think andtalk. Here is a lane, let us follow it, till we come to a habitation."
We turned into a grass road, bounded on either side by a high stragglingthorn hedge. At its termination was an irregular cottage with a thatchedroof, which projected over the windows in front. The latter werelatticed with diamond-shaped panes of glass, and were four in number,one on each side of the door and two just under the roof. The door wasmade of two transverse parts, the upper half of which was open. On oneside was a basket-like cage containing a magpie, and on the other, acat lay extended on a bench, dozing in the warmth of the sun. The bluesmoke, curling upwards from a crooked chimney, afforded proof of someone being within.
We therefore opened a little gate, and proceeded through a neat garden,in which flowers and vegetables were intermixed. It had a gay appearancefrom the pear, apple, thorn and cherry being all in full bloom. We werereceived at the door by a middle-aged woman, with the ruddy glow ofhealth on her cheeks, and dressed in coarse, plain, but remarkably neatand suitable, attire. As this was a cottage selected at random, andvisited without previous intimation of our intention, I took particularnotice of every thing I saw, because I regarded its appearance as a fairspecimen of its constant and daily state.
Mr. Hopewell needed no introduction. His appearance told what he was.His great stature and erect bearing, his intelligent and amiable face,his noble forehead, his beautiful snow-white locks, his precise andantique dress, his simplicity of manner, every thing, in short, abouthim, at once attracted attention and conciliated favour.
Mrs. Hodgins, for such was her name, received us with that mixture ofrespect and ease, which shewed she was accustomed to converse with hersuperiors. She was dressed in a blue homespun gown, (the sleeves ofwhich were drawn up to her elbows and the lower part tucked through herpocket-hole,) a black stuff petticoat, black stockings and shoes withthe soles more than half an inch thick. She wore also, a large whiteapron, and a neat and by no means unbecoming cap. She informed us herhusband was a gardener's labourer, that supported his family by hisdaily work, and by the proceeds of the little garden attached to thehouse, and invited us to come in and sit down.
The apartment into which the door opened, was a kitchen or common room.On one side, was a large fire-place, the mantel-piece or shelf, ofwhich was filled with brass candlesticks, large and small, some queerold-fashioned lamps, snuffers and trays, polished to a degree ofbrightness, that was dazzling. A dresser was carried round the wall,filled with plates and dishes, and underneath were exhibited theordinary culinary utensils, in excellent order. A small table stoodbefore the fire, with a cloth of spotless whiteness spread upon it, asif in preparation for a meal. A few stools completed the furniture.
Passing through this place, we were shewn into the parlour, a small roomwith a sanded floor. Against the sides were placed some old, dark, andhighly polished chairs, of antique form and rude workmanship. Thewalls were decorated with several coloured prints, illustrative of thePilgrim's Progress and hung in small red frames of about six inchessquare. The fire-place was filled with moss, and its mantel-shelf hadits china sheep and sheperdesses, and a small looking-glass, the wholebeing surmounted by a gun hung transversely. The Lord's Prayer and theTen Commandments worked in worsted, were suspended in a wooden framebetween the windows, which had white muslin blinds, and opened onhinges, like a door. A cupboard made to fit the corner, in a mannerto economise room, was filled with china mugs, cups and saucers ofdifferent sizes and patterns, some old tea-spoons and a plated tea-pot.
There was a small table opposite to the window, which Contained halfa dozen books. One of these was large, handsomely bound, and decoratedwith gilt edged paper. Mr. Hopewell opened it, and expressed greatsatisfaction at finding such an edition of a bible in such a house. Mrs.Hodgins explained that this was a present from her eldest son, who hadthus appropriated his first earnings to the gratification of his mother.
"Creditable to you both, dear," said Mr. Hopewell: "to you, because itis a proof how well you have instructed him; and to him, that he so wellappreciated and so faithfully remembered those lessons of duty."
He then inquired into the state of her family, whether the boy who wastraining a peach-tree against the end of the house was her son, and manyother matters not necessary to record with the same precision that Ihave enumerated the furniture.
"Oh, here is a pretty little child!" said he. "Come here, dear, andshake hands along with me. What beautiful hair she has! and she looksso clean and nice, too. Every thing and every body here is so neat, sotidy, and so appropriate. Kiss me, dear; and then talk to me; for I lovelittle children. 'Suffer them to come unto me,' said our Master, 'for ofsuch is the kingdom of Heaven:' that is, that we should resemble theselittle ones in our innocence."
He then took her on his knee. "Can you say the Lord's Prayer, dear?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Very good. And the ten Commandments?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Who taught you?"
"My mother, Sir; and the parson taught me the Catechism."
"Why, Sam, this child can say the Lord's Prayer, the ten Commandments,and the Catechism. Ain't this beautiful? Tell me the fifth, dear."
And the child repeated it distinctly and accurately.
"Right. Now, dear, always bear that in mind, especially towards yourmother. You have an excellent mother; her cares and her toils are many;and amidst them all, how well she has done her duty to you. The only wayshe can be repaid, is to find that you are what she desires you to be,a good girl. God commands this return to be made, and offers you thereward of length of days. Here is a piece of money for you. And now,dear," placing her again upon her feet, "you never saw so old a manas me, and never will again; and one, too, that came from a far-offcountry, three thousan
d miles off; it would take you a long time tocount three thousand; it is so far. Whenever you do what you ought not,think of the advice of the 'old Minister.'"
Here Mr. Slick beckoned the mother to the door, and whispered somethingto her, of which, the only words that met my ear were "a trump," "abrick," "the other man like him ain't made yet," "do it, he'll talk,then."
To which she replied, "I have--oh yes, Sir--by all means."
She then advanced to Mr. Hopewell, and asked him if he would like tosmoke.
"Indeed I would, dear, but I have no pipe here."
She said her old man smoked of an evening, after his work was done, andthat she could give him a pipe and some tobacco, if he would condescendto use them; and going to the cupboard, she produced a long white claypipe and some cut tobacco.
Having filled and lighted his pipe, Mr. Hopewell said, "What church doyou go to, dear?"
"The parish church, Sir."
"Right; you will hear Sound doctrine and good morals preached there. Ohthis a fortunate country, Sam, for the state provides for the religiousinstruction of the poor. Where the voluntary system prevails, the poorhave to give from their poverty, or go without; and their gifts are sosmall, that they can purchase but little. It's a beautiful system, acharitable system, a Christian system. Who is your landlord?"
"Squire Merton, Sir; and one of the kindest masters, too, that ever was.He is so good to the poor; and the ladies. Sir, they are so kind, also.When my poor daughter Mary was so ill with the lever, I do think shewould have died but for the attentions of those young ladies; and whenshe grew better, they sent her wine and nourishing things from their owntable. They will be so glad to see you. Sir, at the Priory. Oh, I wishyou could see them!"
"There it is, Sam," he continued "That illustrates what I always toldyou of their social system here. We may boast of our independence, butthat independence produces isolation. There is an individuality aboutevery man and every family in America, that gives no right of inquiry,and imposes no duty of relief on any one. Sickness, and sorrow, andtrouble, are not divulged; joy, success, and happiness are not imparted.If we are independent in our thoughts and actions, so are we left tosustain the burden of our own ills. How applicable to our state isthat passage of Scripture, 'The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and astranger intermeddleth not with its joy.'
"Now, look at this poor family; here is a clergyman provided for them,whom they do not, and are not even expected to pay; their spiritualwants are ministered to, faithfully and zealously, as we see by theinstruction of that little child. Here is a friend upon whom they canrely in their hour of trouble, as the bereaved mother did on Elisha.'And she went up and laid her child that was dead on the bed of the manof God, and shut the door on him, and went out.' And when a long trainof agitation, mis-government, and ill-digested changes have derangedthis happy country, as has recently been the case, here is an indulgentlandlord, disposed to lower his rent or give further time for payment,or if sickness invades any of these cottages, to seek out the sufferer,to afford the remedies, and by his countenance, his kindness, andadvice, to alleviate their trouble. Here it is, a positive duty arisingfrom their relative situations of landlord and tenant. The tenantssupport the owner, the landlord protects the tenants: the duties arereciprocal.
"With _us_ the duties, as far as Christian duties can be said to beoptional, are voluntary; and the voluntary discharge of duties, likethe voluntary support of religion, we know, from sad experience, to besometimes imperfectly performed, at others intermitted, and often whollyneglected. Oh! it is a happy country this, a great and a good country;and how base, how wicked, how diabolical it is to try to set sucha family as this against their best friends, their pastor and theirlandlord; to instil dissatisfaction and distrust into their simpleminds, and to teach them to loathe the hand, that proffers nothing butregard or relief. It is shocking, isn't it?"
"That's what I often say, Sir," said Mrs. Hodgins, "to my old man, tokeep away from them Chartists."
"Chartists! dear, who are they? I never heard of them."
"Why, Sir, they are the men that want the five pints."
"Five pints! why you don't say so; oh! they are bad men, have nothing todo with them. Five pints! why that is two quarts and a half; that istoo much to drink if it was water; and if any thing else, it is beastlydrunkenness. Have nothing to do with them."
"Oh! no, Sir, it is five points of law."
"Tut--tut--tut! what have you got to do with law, my dear?"
"By gosh, Aunty," said Mr. Slick, "you had better not cut that pie: youwill find it rather sour in the apple sarce, and tough in the paste, Itell _you_."
"Yes, Sir," she replied, "but they are a unsettling of his mind. Whatshall I do? for I don't like these night meetings, and he always comeshome from 'em cross and sour-like."
"Well, I am sorry to hear that," said Mr. Hopewell, "I wish I could seehim; but I can't, for I am bound on a journey. I am sorry to hearit, dear. Sam, this country is so beautiful, so highly cultivated, soadorned by nature and art, and contains so much comfort and happiness,that it resembles almost the garden of Eden. But, Sam, the Serpent ishere, the Serpent is here beyond a doubt. It changes its shape, andalters its name, and takes a new colour, but still it is the Serpent,and it ought to be crushed. Sometimes it calls itself liberal, thenradical, then chartist, then agitator, then repealer, then politicaldissenter, then anti-corn leaguer, and so on. Sometimes it stings theclergy, and coils round them, and almost strangles them, for it knowsthe Church is its greatest enemy, and it is furious against it. Then itattacks the peers, and covers them with its froth and slaver, and thenit bites the landlord. Then it changes form, and shoots at the Queen, orher ministers, and sets fire to buildings, and burns up corn to increasedistress; and, when hunted away, it dives down into the collieries, orvisits the manufactories, and maddens the people, and urges them on toplunder and destruction. It's a melancholy thing to think of; but he isas of old, alive and active, seeing whom he can allure and deceive, andwhoever listens is ruined for ever.
"Stay, dear, I'll tell you what I will do for you. I'll inquire aboutthese Chartists; and when I go to London, I will write a little tractso plain that any child may read it and understand it; and call it _TheChartist_, and get it printed, and I will send you one for your husband,and two or three others, to give to those whom they may benefit.
"And now, dear, I must go. You and I will never meet again in thisworld; but I shall often think of you, and often speak of you. I shalltell my people of the comforts, of the neatness, of the beauty of anEnglish cottage. May God bless you, and so regulate your mind as topreserve in you a reverence for his holy word, an obedience to thecommands of your Spiritual Pastor, and a respect for all that are placedin authority over you!"
"Well, it is pretty, too, is this cottage," said Mr. Slick, as westrolled back to the inn, "but the handsumestest thing is to hear thatgood old soul talk dictionary that way, aint it? How nateral he is!Guess they don't often see such a 'postle as that in these diggins. Yes,it's pretty is this cottage; but it's small, arter all. You feel like asquirrel in a cage, in it; you have to run round and round, and don't goforward none. What would a man do with a rifle here? For my part, I havea taste for the wild woods; it comes on me regular in the fall, like thelake fever, and I up gun, and off for a week or two, and camp out, andget a snuff of the spruce-wood air, and a good appetite, and a bit offresh ven'son to sup on at night.
"I shall be off to the highlands this fall; but, cuss em, they hante gotno woods there; nothin' but heather, and thats only high enough to tearyour clothes. That's the reason the Scotch don't wear no breeches, theydon't like to get 'em ragged up that way for everlastinly, they can'tafford it; so they let em scratch and tear their skin, for that willgrow agin, and trowsers won't.
"Yes, it's a pretty cottage that, and a nice tidy body that too, is Mrs.Hodgins. I've seen the time when I would have given a good deal to havebeen so well housed as that. There is some little difference atween thatcottage an
d a log hut of a poor back emigrant settler, you and I knowwhere. Did ever I tell you of the night I spent at Lake Teal, with oldJudge Sandford?"
"No, not that I recollect."
"Well, once upon a time I was a-goin' from Mill-bridge to Shadbrooke,on a little matter of bisness, and an awful bad and lonely road it was,too. There was scarcely no settlers in it, and the road was all madeof sticks, stones, mud holes, and broken bridges. It was een amostonpassible, and who should I overtake on the way but the Judge, and hisguide, on horseback, and Lawyer Traverse a-joggin' along in his gig, atthe rate of two miles an hour at the fardest.
"'Mornin,' sais the Judge, for he was a sociable man, and had a kindword for every body, had the Judge. Few men 'know'd human natur' betternor he did, and what he used to call the philosophy of life. 'I amglad to see you on the road, Mr. Slick, sais he, 'for it is so bad Iam afraid there are places that will require our united efforts to pass'em.'
"Well, I felt kinder sorry for the delay too, for I know'd we shouldmake a poor journey on't, on account of that lawyer critter's gig, thathadn't no more busness on that rough track than a steam engine had. ButI see'd the Judge wanted me to stay company, and help him along, and soI did. He was fond of a joke, was the old Judge, and sais he,
"'I'm afraid we shall illustrate that passage o' Scriptur', Mr. Slick,'said he, '"And their judges shall be overthrown in stony places." It'sjist a road for it, ain't it?'
"Well we chattered along the road this way a leetle, jist a leetlefaster than we travelled, for we made a snail's gallop of it, that's afact; and night overtook us, as I suspected it would, at Obi Rafuse's,at the Great Lake; and as it was the only public for fourteen miles, anddark was settin' in, we dismounted, but oh, what a house it was!
"Obi was an emigrant, and those emigrants are ginerally so fond ofownin' the soil, that like misers, they carry as much of it about 'emon their parsons, in a common way, as they cleverly can. Some on 'emare awful dirty folks, that's a fact, and Obi was one of them. He keptpublic, did Obi; the sign said it was a house of entertainment for manand beast. For critters that ain't human, I do suppose it spoke thetruth, for it was enough to make a hoss larf, if he could understand it,that's a fact; but dirt, wretchedness and rags, don't have that effecton me.
"The house was built of rough spruce logs, (the only thing spruce aboutit), with the bark on, and the cracks and seams was stuffed with moss.The roof was made of coarse slabs, battened and not shingled, and thechimbly peeped out like a black pot, made of sticks and mud, the waya crow's nest is. The winders were half broke out, and stopped up withshingles and old clothes, and a great bank of mud and straw all round,reached half way up to the roof, to keep the frost out of the cellar. Itlooked like an old hat on a dung heap. I pitied the old Judge, becausehe was a man that took the world as he found it, and made no complaints.He know'd if you got the best, it was no use complainin' that the bestwarn't good.
"Well, the house stood alone in the middle of a clearin', without anouthouse of any sort or kind about it, or any fence or enclosure, butjist rose up as a toodstool grows, all alone in the field. Close behindit was a thick short second growth of young birches, about fifteen feethigh, which was the only shelter it had, and that was on the wrong side,for it was towards the south.
"Well, when we alighted, and got the baggage off, away starts the guidewith the Judge's traps, and ups a path through the woods to a settler's,and leaves us. Away down by the edge of the lake was a little barn,filled up to the roof with grain and hay, and there was no standin' roomor shelter in it for the hosses. So the lawyer hitches his critter toa tree, and goes and fetches up some fodder for him, and leaves him forthe night, to weather it as he could. As soon as he goes in, I takesOld Clay to the barn, for it's a maxim of mine always to look out arternumber one, opens the door, and pulls out sheaf arter sheaf of grain asfast as I could, and throws it out, till I got a place big enough forhim to crawl in.
"'Now,' sais I, 'old boy,' as I shot to the door arter him, 'if thathole ain't big enough for you, eat away till it is, that's all.'
"I had hardly got to the house afore the rain, that had threatened allday, came down like smoke, and the wind got up, and it blew like a younghurricane, and the lake roared dismal; it was an awful night, and it washard to say which was wus, the Storm or the shelter.
"'Of two evils,' sais I to the lawyer, 'choose the least. It ain't a badthing to be well housed in a night like this, is it?'
"The critter groaned, for both cases was so 'bad he didn't know whichto take up to defend, so he grinned horrid and said nothin'; and it wasenough to make him grin too, that's a fact. He looked as if he had gothold on a bill o' pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs thattime, you may depend.
"Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin' room, where we was allhalf circled round the fire, and two sleepin' rooms off of it. One ofthese Obi had, who was a-bed, groanin', coughin', and turnin' over andover all the time on the creakin' bedstead with pleurisy; t'other wasfor the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his mother, and thehearth, or any other soft place we could find, was allocated for lawyerand me.
"What a scarecrow lookin' critter old aunty was, warn't she? She was allin rags and tatters, and though she lived 'longside of the lake thebest part of her emigrant life, had never used water since she waschristened. Her eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like twoburnt holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied so tightwith an eel-skin behind her head, it seemed to take the hide with it.I 'most wonder how she ever shot to her eyes to go to sleep. She had nostockins on her legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn't lifther feet up, for fear of droppin' off her slippers; but she just shovedand slid about as if she was on ice. She had a small pipe in her mouth,with about an inch of a stem, to keep her nose warm, and her skin wasso yaller and wrinkled, and hard and oily, she looked jist like a driedsmoked red herrin', she did upon my soul.
"The floor of the room was blacker nor ink, because that is palesometimes; and the utenshils, oh, if the fire didn't purify 'em nowand ag'in, all the scrubbin' in the world wouldn't, they was past that.Whenever the door was opened, in run the pigs, and the old woman hobbledround arter them, bangin' them with a fryin' pan, till she seemed outo' breath. Every time she took less and less notice of 'em, for shewas 'most beat out herself, and was busy a gettin' of the tea-kettle tobile, and it appeared to me she was a-goin' to give in and let 'em sleepwith me and the lawyer, near the fire.
"So I jist puts the tongs in the sparklin' coals and heats the eends on'em red hot, and the next time they comes in, I watches a chance, outswith the tongs, and seizes the old sow by the tail, and holds on tillI singes it beautiful. The way she let go ain't no matter, but if shedidn't yell it's a pity, that's all. She made right straight for thedoor, dashed in atween old aunty's legs, and carries her out on herback, ridin' straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heelsin the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along sideof her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool itself.
"Aunty took up the screamin' then, where the pig left off; but her voicewarn't so good, poor thing! she was too old for that, it sounded like acracked bell; it was loud enough, but it warn't jist so clear. She camein drippin' and cryin' and scoldin'; she hated water, and what was wus,this water made her dirtier. It ran off of her like a gutter. The wayshe let out agin pigs, travellers and houses of entertainment, was acaution to sinners. She vowed she'd stop public next mornin', and bileher kettle with the sign; folks might entertain themselves and be hangedto 'em, for all her, that they might. Then she mounted a ladder and goesup into the loft-to change.
"'Judge' sais I, 'I am sorry, too, I singed that pig's tail arter thatfashion, for the smell of pork chops makes me feel kinder hungry, and ifwe had 'em, no soul could eat 'em here in such a stye as this. But, dearme,' sais I, 'You'd better move, Sir; that old woman is juicy, and Isee it a comin' through the cracks of the floor above, like a streak ofmolasses.
"'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'this
is dreadful. I never saw any thing so badbefore in all this country; but what can't be cured must be endured, Ido suppose. We must only be good-natured and do the best we can, that'sall. An emigrant house is no place to stop at, is it? There is a tincase,' sais he, 'containin' a cold tongue and some biscuits, in myportmanter; please to get them out. You must act as butler to-night, ifyou please; for I can't eat any thing that old woman touches.'
"So I spreads one of his napkins on the table, and gets out theeatables, and then he produced a pocket pistol, for he was a sensibleman was the judge, and we made a small check, for there warn't enoughfor a feed.
"Arter that, he takes out a night-cap, and fits it on tight, and thenputs on his cloak, and wraps the hood of it close over his head, andfoldin' himself up in it, he went and laid down without ondressin'. Thelawyer took a stretch for it on the bench, with his gig cushions for apillar, and I makes up the fire, sits down on the chair, puts my legs upon the jamb, draws my hat over my eyes, and folds my arms for sleep.
"'But fust and foremost,' sais I, 'aunty, take a drop of the strongwaters: arter goin' the whole hog that way, you must need some,' and Ipoured her out a stiff corker into one of her mugs, put some sugar andhot water to it, and she tossed it off as if she railly did like it.
"'Darn that pig,' said she, 'it is so poor, its back is as sharp as aknife. It hurt me properly, that's a fact, and has most broke my crupperbone.' And she put her hand behind her, and moaned piteous.
"'Pig skin,' sais I, 'aunty, is well enough when made into a saddle, butit ain't over pleasant to ride on bare back that way,' sais I, 'is it?And them bristles ain't quite so soft as feathers, I do suppose.'
"I thought I should a died a holdin' in of a haw haw that way. Stiflinga larf a'most stifles oneself, that's a fact. I felt sorry for her, too,but sorrow won't always keep you from larfin', unless you be sorry foryourself. So as I didn't want to offend her I ups legs agin to the jam,and shot my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
"Well, I can snooze through most any thin', but I couldn't get muchsleep that night. The pigs kept close to the door, a shovin' agin itevery now and then, to see all was right for a dash in, if the bearscame; and the geese kept sentry too agin the foxes; and one old fellerwould squake out "all's well" every five minuts, as he marched up anddown and back agin on the bankin' of the house.
"But the turkeys was the wust. They was perched upon the lee side of theroof, and sometimes an eddy of wind would take a feller right slap offhis legs, and send him floppin' and rollin' and sprawlin' and screamin'down to the ground, and then he'd make most as much fuss a-gettin' upinto line agin. They are very fond of straight, lines is turkeys. Inever see an old gobbler, with his gorget, that I don't think of akernel of a marchin' regiment, and if you'll listen to him and watchhim, he'll strut jist like one, and say, 'halt! dress!' oh, he is amilitary man is a turkey cock: he wears long spurs, carries a stiffneck, and charges at red cloth, like a trooper.
"Well then a little cowardly good natured cur, that lodged in an emptyflour barrel, near the wood pile, gave out a long doleful howl, now andagin, to show these outside passengers, if he couldn't fight for 'em, hecould at all events cry for 'em, and it ain't every goose has a mournerto her funeral, that's a fact, unless it be the owner.
"In the mornin' I wakes up, and looks round for lawyer, but he was gone.So I gathers up the brans, and makes up the fire, and walks out. Thepigs didn't try to come in agin, you may depend, when they see'd me;they didn't like the curlin' tongs, as much as some folks do, and pigs'tails kinder curl naterally. But there was lawyer a-standin' up by thegrove, lookin' as peeked and as forlorn, as an onmated loon.
"'What's the matter of you, Squire?' sais I. 'You look like a man thatwas ready to make a speech; but your witness hadn't come, or you hadn'tgot no jury.'
"'Somebody has stole my horse,' said he.
"Well, I know'd he was near-sighted, was lawyer, and couldn't see a pintclear of his nose, unless it was a pint o' law. So I looks all round andthere was his hoss, a-standin' on the bridge, with his long tail hangingdown straight at one eend, and his long neck and head a banging downstraight at t'other eend, so that you couldn't tell one from t'other orwhich eend was towards you. It was a clear cold mornin'. The storm wasover and the wind down, and there was a frost on the ground. The critterwas cold I suppose, and had broke the rope and walked off to stretch hislegs. It was a monstrous mean night to be out in, that's sartain.
"'There is your hoss,' sais I.
"'Where?' sais he.
"'Why on the bridge,' sais I; "he has got his head down and is a-lookin'atween his fore-legs to see where his tail is, for he is so cold, I dosuppose he can't feel it.'
"Well, as soon as we could, we started; but afore we left, sais theJudge to me, 'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'here is a plaister,' taking outa pound note, 'a plaister for the skin the pig rubbed off of the oldwoman. Give it to her, I hope it is big enough to cover it.' And he fellback on the bed, and larfed and coughed, and coughed and larfed, tillthe tears ran down his cheeks.
"Yes," said Mr. Slick, "yes, Squire, this is a pretty cottage of MarmHodgins; but we have cottages quite as pretty as this, our side of thewater, arter all. They are not all like Obi Rafuses, the immigrant. Thenatives have different guess places, where you might eat off the floora'most, all's so clean. P'raps we hante the hedges, and flowers, andvines and fixin's, and what-nots."
"Which, alone," I said, "make a most important difference. No, Mr.Slick', there is nothing to be compared to this little cottage.
"I perfectly agree with you, Squire," said Mr. Hopewell, "it is quiteunique. There is not only nothing equal to it, but nothing of its kindat all like--_an English cottage_."
The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete Page 11