The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete

by Thomas Chandler Haliburton

  CHAPTER XIII. LOOKING BACK.

  In the course of the evening, Mr. Hopewell adverted to his return asa matter of professional duty, and spoke of it in such a feeling andearnest manner, as to leave no doubt upon my mind, that we should not beable to detain him long in this country, unless his attention should bekept fully occupied by a constant change of scene.

  Mr. Slick expressed to me the same fear, and, knowing that I had beentalking of going to Scotland, entreated me not to be long absent, for hefelt convinced that as soon as he should be left alone, his thoughts andwishes would at once revert to America.

  "I will try to keep him up," said he, "as well as I can, but I can't doit alone. If you do go, don't leave us long. Whenever I find him dull,and can't cheer him up no how I can fix it, by talk, or fun, or sightseein' or nothin', I make him vexed, and that excites him, stirs him upwith a pot stick, and is of great sarvice to him. I don't mean actillymakin' him wrathy in airnest, but jist rilin of him for his own good, bypokin' a mistake at him. I'll shew you, presently, how I do it."

  As soon as Mr. Hopewell rejoined us, he began to inquire into theprobable duration of our visit to this country, and expressed a wish toreturn, as soon as possible, to Slickville.

  "Come, Minister," said Mr. Slick, tapping him on the shoulder, "asfather used to say, we must 'right about face' now. When we are at homelet us think of home, when we are here, let us think of this place. Letus look a-head, don't let's look back, for we can't see nothin' there."

  "Indeed, Sam," said he, with a sad and melancholy air, "it would bebetter for us all if we looked back oftener than we do. From the errorsof the past, we might rectify our course for the future. Prospective sinis often clothed in very alluring garments; past sin appears in all itsnaked deformity. Looking back, therefore--"

  "Is very well," said Mr. Slick, "in the way of preachin'; but lookin'back when you can't see nothin', as you are now, is only a hurtin' ofyour eyes. I never hear that word, 'lookin' back,' that I don't think ofthat funny story of Lot's wife."

  "Funny story of Lot's wife, Sir! Do you call that a funny story, Sir?"

  "I do, Sir."

  "You do, Sir?"

  "Yes, I do, Sir; and I defy you or any other man to say it ain't a funnystory."

  "Oh dear, dear," said Mr. Hopewell, "that I should have lived to seethe day when you, my son, would dare to speak of a Divine judgment as afunny story, and that you should presume so to address me."

  "A judgment, Sir?"

  "Yes, a judgment, Sir."

  "Do you call the story of Lot's wife a judgment?"

  "Yes, I do call the story of Lot's wife a judgment; a monument of theDivine wrath for the sin of disobedience."

  "What! Mrs. Happy Lot? Do you call her a monument of wrath? Well, well,if that don't beat all, Minister. If you had a been a-tyin' of thenight-cap last night I shouldn't a wondered at your talkin' at thatpace. But to call that dear little woman, Mrs. Happy Lot, that dancin',laughin' tormentin', little critter, a monument of wrath, beats all toimmortal smash."

  "Why who are you a-talkin' of, Sam?"

  "Why, Mrs. Happy Lot, the wife of the Honourable Cranbery Lot, ofUmbagog, to be sure. Who did you think I was a-talkin' of?"

  "Well, I thought you was a-talkin' of--of--ahem--of subjects too seriousto be talked of in that manner; but I did you wrong, Sam; I did youinjustice. Give me your hand, my boy. It's better for me to mistake andapologize, than for you to sin and repent. I don't think I ever heard ofMr. Lot, of Umbagog, or of his wife either. Sit down here, and tell methe story, for 'with thee conversing, I forget all time.'"

  "Well, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "I'll tell you the ins and outs of it;and a droll story it is too. Miss Lot was the darter of Enoch Mosher,the rich miser of Goshen; as beautiful a little critter too, as everslept in shoe-leather. She looked for all the world like one of theParis fashion prints, for she was a parfect pictur', that's a fact.Her complexion was made of white and red roses, mixed so beautiful, youcouldn't tell where the white eended, or the red begun, natur' hadused the blendin' brush so delicate. Her eyes were screw augurs, I tell_you_; they bored right into your heart, and kinder agitated you, andmade your breath come and go, and your pulse flutter. I never feltnothin' like 'em. When lit up, they sparkled like lamp reflectors; andat other tunes, they was as soft, and mild, and clear as dew-drops thathang on the bushes at sun-rise. When she loved, she loved; and when shehated, she hated about the wickedest you ever see. Her lips were likeheart cherries of the carnation kind; so plump, and fall, and hard, youfelt as if you could fall to and eat 'em right up. Her voice was like agrand piany, all sorts o' power in it; canary-birds' notes at one eend,and thunder at t'other, accordin' to the humour she was in, for shewas a'most a grand bit of stuff was Happy, she'd put an edge on a knifea'most. She was a rael steel. Her figur' was as light as a fairy's, andher waist was so taper and tiny, it seemed jist made for puttin' anarm round in walkin'. She was as ac_tive_ and springy on her feet as acatamount, and near about as touch me-not a sort of customer too.She actilly did seem as if she was made out of steel springs andchicken-hawk. If old Cran, was to slip off the handle, I think I shouldmake up to her, for she is 'a salt,' that's a fact, a most a heavenlysplice.

  "Well, the Honourable Cranbery Lot put in for her, won her, and marriedher. A good speculation it turned out too, for he got the matter of onehundred thousand of dollars by her, if he got a cent. As soon as theywere fairly welded, off they sot to take the tour of Europe, and theylarfed and cried, and kissed and quarrelled, and fit and made up allover the Continent, for her temper was as onsartain as the climatehere--rain one minit and sun the next; but more rain nor sun.

  "He was a fool, was Cranbery. He didn't know how to manage her. Hisbridle hand warn't good, I tell you. A spry, mettlesome hoss, and a dullcritter with no action, don't mate well in harness, that's a fact.

  "After goin' every where, and every where else amost, where should theyget to but the Alps. One arternoon, a sincerely cold one it was too, andthe weather, violent slippy, dark overtook them before they reached thetop of one of the highest and steepest of them mountains, and they hadto spend the night at a poor squatter's shanty.

  "Well, next mornin', jist at day-break, and sun-rise on them everlastin'hills is tall sun-rise, and no mistake, p'rhaps nothin was ever seen sofine except the first one, since creation. It takes the rag off quite.Well, she was an enterprisin' little toad, was Miss Lot too, afeered ofnothin' a'most; so nothin' would sarve her but she must out and have ascramb up to the tip-topest part of the peak afore breakfast.

  "Well, the squatter there, who was a kind o' guide, did what he could todispersuade her, but all to no purpose; go she would, and a headstrongwoman and a runaway hoss are jist two things it's out of all reason totry to stop; The only way is to urge 'em on, and then, bein' contr_ary_by natur', they stop of themselves.

  "'Well,' sais the guide, 'if you will go, marm, do take this pike staff,marm,' sais he; (a sort of walkin'-stick with a spike to the eend ofit), 'for you can't get either up or down them slopes without it, it isso almighty slippy there.' So she took the staff, and off she sot andclimbed and climbed ever so far, till she didn't look no bigger than asnowbird.

  "At last she came to a small flat place, like a table, and then sheturned round to rest, get breath, and take a look at the glorious view;and jist as she hove-to, up went her little heels, and away went herstick, right over a big parpendicular cliff, hundreds and hundreds, andthousands of feet deep. So deep, you couldn't see the bottom for theshadows, for the very snow looked black down there. There is no way in,it is so steep, but over the cliff; and no way out, but one, and thatleads to t'other world. I can't describe it to you, though. I have see'dit since myself. There are some things too big to lift; some, too bigto carry after they be lifted; and some too grand for the tongue todescribe too. There's a notch where dictionary can't go no farther, aswell as every other created thing, that's a fact. P'rhaps if I was tosay it looked like the mould that that 'are very peak was c
ast in, aforeit was cold and stiff, and sot up on eend, I should come as near themark as any thing I know on.

  "Well away she slid, feet and hands out, all flat on her face, rightaway, arter her pike staff. Most people would have ginn it up as gonegoose, and others been so frightened as not to do any thing at all; orat most only jist to think of a prayer, for there was no time to sayone.

  "But not so Lot's 'wife. She was of a conquerin' natur'. She never gavenothin' up, till she couldn't hold on no longer. She was one o' themcritters that go to bed mistress, and rise master; and just as shegot to the edge of the precipice, her head hangin' over, and her eyeslookin' down, and she all but ready to shoot out and launch away intobottomless space, the ten commandments brought her right short up. Oh,she sais, the sudden joy of that sudden stop swelled her heart so big,she thought it would have bust like a byler; and, as it was, the greatendurin' long breath she drew, arter such an alfired escape, almostkilled her at the ebb, it hurt her so."

  "But," said Mr. Hopewell, "how did the ten commandments save her? Do youmean that figuratively, or literally. Was it her reliance on providence,arising from a conscious observance of the decalogue all her life, orwas it a book containing them, that caught against some thing, and stopther descent. It is very interesting. Many a person, Sam, has been savedwhen at the brink of destruction, by laying fast hold on the bible. Whocan doubt, that the commandments had a Divine origin? Short, simple andyet comprehensive; the first four point to our duty to our Maker, thelast six, towards our social duties. In this respect there is a greatsimilarity of structure, to that excellent prayer given us--"

  "Oh, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "I beg your pardon, I do, indeed, Idon't mean that at all; and I do declare and vow now, I wasn't a playin'possum with you, nother. I won't do it no more, I won't, indeed."

  "Well, what did you mean then?"

  "Why I meant her ten fingers, to be sure. When a woman clapper claws herhusband, we have a cant tarm with us boys of Slickville, savin' she gavehim her ten commandments."

  "And a very improper expression too, Sir," said Mr. Hopewell; "a veryirreverent, indecent, and I may say profane expression; I am quiteshocked. But as you say you didn't mean it, are sorry for it, and willnot repeat it again, I accept your apology, and rely on your promise. Goon, Sir."

  "Well, as I was a savin', the moment she found herself a coasting of itthat way, flounder fashion, she hung on by her ten com--I mean her tenfingers, and her ten toes, like grim death to a dead nigger, and itbrought her up jist in time. But how to get back was the question? Tolet go the hold of any one hand was sartain death, and there was nobodyto help her, and yet to hold on long that way, she couldn't, no how shecould fix it.

  "So what does she do, (for nothin' equals a woman for contrivances), butmove one finger at a time, and then one toe at a time, till she getsa new hold, and then crawls backward, like a span-worm, an inch at ahitch. Well, she works her passage this way, wrong eend foremost, bybackin' of her paddles for the matter of half an hour or so, till shegets to where it was roughish, and somethin' like standin' ground, whenwho should come by but a tall handsome man, with a sort of a half coat,half cloak-like coverin' on, fastened round the waist with a belt, andhavin' a hood up, to ambush the head.

  "The moment she clapt eyes on him, she called to him for help. 'Oh,'sais she, 'for heaven's sake, good man, help me up! Jist take hold of myleg and draw me back, will you, that's a good soul?' And then sheheld up fust one leg for him, and then the other, most beseechin', butnothin' would move him. He jist stopt, looked back for a moment and thenprogressed agin.

  "Well, it ryled her considerable. Her eyes actilly snapped with fire,like a hemlock log at Christmas: (for nothin' makes a woman so mad as aparsonal slight, and them little ankles of hern were enough to move theheart of a stone, and make it jump out o' the ground, that's a fact,they were such fine-spun glass ones), it made her so mad, it gave herfresh strength; and makin' two or three onnateral efforts, she got clearback to the path, and sprung right up on eend, as wicked as a she-bearwith a sore head. But when she got upright agin, she then see'd what abeautiful frizzle of a fix she was in. She couldn't hope to climb far;and, indeed, she didn't ambition to; she'd had enough of that, for onespell. But climbin' up was nothin', compared to goin' down hill withouther staff; so what to do, she didn't know.

  "At last, a thought struck her. She intarmined to make that man helpher, in spite of him. So she sprung forward for a space, like a painter,for life or death, and caught right hold of his cloak. 'Help--help me!'said she, 'or I shall go for it, that's sartain. Here's my puss, myrings, my watch, and all I have got; but oh, help me! for the love ofGod, help me, or my flint is fixed for good and all.'

  "With that, the man turned round, and took one glance at her, as if hekinder relented, and then, all at once, wheeled back again, as amazed asif he was jist born, gave an awful yell, and started off as fast as hecould clip, though that warn't very tall runnin' nother, considerin' theground. But she warn't to be shook off that way. She held fast to hiscloak, like a burr to a sheep's tail, and raced arter him, screamin' andscreechin' like mad; and the more she cried, the louder he yelled, tillthe mountains all echoed it and re-echoed it, so that you would havethought a thousand devils had broke loose, a'most.

  "Such a gettin' up stairs you never did see.

  "Well, they kept up this tantrum for the space of two or three hundredyards, when they came to a small, low, dismal-lookin' house, whenthe man gave the door a kick, that sent the latch a flyin' off to thet'other eend of the room, and fell right in on the floor, on his face,as flat as a flounder, a groanin' and a moanin' like any thing, andlookin' as mean as a critter that was sent for, and couldn't come, andas obstinate as a pine stump.

  "'What ails you?' sais she, 'to act like Old Scratch that way? You oughtto be ashamed of yourself, to behave so to a woman. What on airth isthere about me to frighten you so, you great onmannerly, onmarciful,coward, you. Come, scratch up, this minute.'

  "Well, the more she talked, the more he groaned; but the devil a word,good or bad, could she get out of him at all. With that, she stoopsdown, and catches up his staff, and says she, 'I have as great a mind togive you a jab with this here toothpick, where your mother used to spankyou, as ever I had in all my life. But if you want it, my old 'coon, youmust come and get it; for if you won't help me, I shall help myself.'

  "Jist at that moment, her eyes being better accustomed to the dim lightof the place, she see'd a man, a sittin' at the fur eend of the room,with his back to the wall, larfin' ready to kill himself. He grinnedso, he showed his corn-crackers from ear to ear. She said, he stript histeeth like a catamount, he look'd so all mouth.

  "Well, that encouraged her, for there ain't much harm in a larfin' man;it's only them that never larf that's fearfulsome. So sais she 'My goodman, will you he so kind as to lend me your arm down this awful peak,and I will reward you handsomely, you may depend.'

  "Well, he made no answer, nother; and thinkin' he didn't onderstandEnglish, she tried him in Italian, and then in broken French, and thenbungled out a little German; but no, still no answer. He took no morenotice of her and her mister, and senior, and mountsheer, and mynheer,than if he never heerd them titles, but jist larfed on.

  "She stopped a minit, and looked at him full in the face, to see what hemeant by all this ongenteel behaviour, when all of a sudden, jist as shemoved one step nearer to him, she saw he was a dead man, and had been solong there, part of the flesh had dropt off or dried off his face; andit was that that made him grin that way, like a fox-trap. It was thebone-house they was in. The place where poor, benighted, snow-squalledstragglers, that perish on the mountains, are located, for their friendsto come and get them, if they want 'em; and if there ain't any body thatknows 'em or cares for 'em, why they are left there for ever, to dryinto nothin' but parchment and atomy, as it's no joke diggin' a grave inthat frozen region.

  "As soon as she see'd this, she never said another blessed word, butjist walked off with the livin' man's
pike, and began to poke her waydown the mountain as careful as she cleverly could, dreadful tired, andawful frighted.

  "Well, she hadn't gone far, afore she heard her name echoed all roundher--Happy! Happy! Happy! It seemed from the echoes agin, as if therewas a hundred people a yelling it put all at once.

  "Oh, very happy,' said she, 'very happy, indeed; guess you'd find itso if you was here. I know I should feel very happy if I was out of it,that's all; for I believe, on my soul, this is harnted ground, and thepeople in it are possessed. Oh, if I was only to home, to dear Umbagogagin, no soul should ever ketch me in this outlandish place any more,_I_ know.'

  "Well, the sound increased and increased so, like young thunder she wase'en a'most skeared to death, and in a twitteration all over; and herknees began to shake so, she expected to go for it every minute; when asudden turn of the path show'd her her husband and the poor squatter asarchin' for her.

  "She was so overcome with fright and joy, she could hardly speak--and itwarn't a trifle that would toggle her tongue, that's a fact. It wassome time after she arrived at the house afore she could up and tell thestory onderstandable; and when she did, she had to tell it twice over,first in short hand, and then in long metre, afore she could make outthe whole bill o' parcels. Indeed, she hante done tellin' it yet, andwherever she is, she works round, and works round, till she gets Europespoke of, and then she begins, 'That reminds me of a most remarkablefact. Jist after I was married to Mr. Lot, we was to the Alps.'

  "If ever you see her, and she begins that way, up hat and cut stick,double quick, or you'll find the road over the Alps to Umbagog, a littlethe longest you've ever travelled, I know.

  "Well, she had no sooner done than Cranbery jumps up on eend, and saishe to the guide, 'Uncle,' sais he, 'jist come along with me, that's agood feller, will you? We must return that good Samaritan's' cane tohim; and as he must be considerable cold there, I'll jist warm his hidea bit for him, to make his blood sarculate. If he thinks I'll put thattreatment to my wife, Miss Lot, into my pocket, and walk off with it,he's mistaken in the child, that's all, Sir. He may be stubbeder than Ibe, Uncle, that's a fact; but if he was twice as stubbed, I'd walkinto him like a thousand of bricks. I'll give him a taste of my breed.Insultin' a lady is a weed we don't suffer to grow in our fieldsto Umbagog. Let him be who the devil he will, log-leg orleather-breeches--green-shirt or blanket-coat--land-trotter orriver-roller, I'll let him know there is a warrant out arter him, Iknow."

  "'Why,' sais the guide, 'he couldn't help himself, no how he could workit. He is a friar, or a monk, or a hermit, or a pilgrim, or somethin'or another of that kind, for there is no eend to them, they are so manydifferent sorts; but the breed he is of, have a vow never to look at awoman, or talk to a woman, or touch a woman, and if they do, there is apenance, as long as into the middle of next week.'

  "'Not look at a woman?' sais Cran, 'why, what sort of a guess worldwould this be without petticoats?--what a superfine superior tarnationfool he must be, to jine such a tee-total society as that. Mint julip Icould give up, I _do_ suppose, though I had a plaguy sight sooner notdo it, that's a fact: but as for womankind, why the angeliferouslittle torments, there is no livin' without _them_. What do you think,stranger?'

  "'Sartainly,' said Squatter; 'but seein' that the man had a vow, why itwarn't his fault, for he couldn't do nothin' else. Where _he_ did wrong,was _to look back_; if he hadn't a _looked back_, he wouldn't havesinned.'

  "'Well, well,' sais Cran, 'if that's the case, it is a hoss of anothercolour, that. I won't look back nother, then. Let him he. But he iserroneous considerable.'

  "So you see, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "where there is nothin' to begained, and harm done, by this retrospection, as you call it, why Ithink lookin' a-head is far better than--_lookin' back_."