The Attache or Sam Slick in England Part 2

"'Oh cuss him, it was him then was it?'

"'What, Sir?'

"'That woke them confounded rooks up, out o' their fust nap, and kick't up such a bobbery. Where is the Parson?'

"'Which one, Sir?'

"'The one that's so fond of fishing.'

"'Ain't up yet, Sir.'

"'Well, the old boy, that wore breeches.'

"Out on a sick visit to one of the cottages, Sir.'

"When he comes in, send him to me, I'm shockin' sick.'

"With that I goes to look arter the two pretty galls in the drawin'

room; and there was the ladies a chatterin' away like any thing. The moment I came in it was as dumb as a quaker's meetin'. They all hauled up at once, like a stage-coach to an inn-door, from a hand-gallop to a stock still stand. I seed men warn't wanted there, it warn't the custom so airly, so I polled out o' that creek, starn first. They don't like men in the mornin', in England, do the ladies; they think 'em in the way.

"'What on airth, shall I do?' says I, 'it's nothin' but rain, rain, rain--here in this awful dismal country. n.o.body smokes, n.o.body talks, n.o.body plays cards, n.o.body fires at a mark, and n.o.body trades; only let me get thro' this juicy day, and I am done: let me get out of this sc.r.a.pe, and if I am caught agin, I'll give you leave to tell me of it, in meetin'. It tante pretty, I do suppose to be a jawin' with the butler, but I'll make an excuse for a talk, for talk comes kinder nateral to me, like suction to a snipe.'

"'Waiter?'

"'Sir.'

"'Galls don't like to be tree'd here of a mornin' do they?'

"'Sir.'

"'It's usual for the ladies,' sais I, 'to be together in the airly part of the forenoon here, ain't it, afore the gentlemen jine them?'

"'Yes, Sir.'

"'It puts me in mind,' sais I, 'of the old seals down to Sable Island--you know where Sable Isle is, don't you?'

"'Yes, Sir, it's in the cathedral down here.'

"'No, no, not that, it's an island on the coast of Nova Scotia. You know where that is sartainly.'

"'I never heard of it, Sir.'

"'Well, Lord love you! you know what an old seal is?'

"'Oh, yes, sir, I'll get you my master's in a moment.'

And off he sot full chisel.

"Cus him! he is as stupid as a rook, that crittur, it's no use to tell him a story, and now I think of it, I will go and smoke them black imps of darkness,--the rooks.'

"So I goes up stairs, as slowly as I cleverly could, jist liftin' one foot arter another as if it had a fifty-six tied to it, on pupus to spend time; lit a cigar, opened the window nearest the rooks, and smoked, but oh the rain killed all the smoke in a minite; it didn't even make one on 'em sneeze. 'Dull musick this, Sam,' sais I, 'ain't it? Tell you what: I'll put on my ile-skin, take an umbreller and go and talk to the stable helps, for I feel as lonely as a catamount, and as dull as a bachelor beaver. So I trampousses off to the stable, and says I to the head man, 'A smart little hoss that,' sais I, 'you are a cleaning of: he looks like a first chop article that.'

"'Y mae',' sais he.

"'Hullo,' sais I, 'what in natur' is this? Is it him that can't speak English, or me that can't onderstand? for one on us is a fool, that's sartain. I'll try him agin.

"So I sais to him, 'He looks,' sais I, 'as if he'd trot a considerable good stick, that horse,' sais I, 'I guess he is a goer.'

"Y' mae, ye un trotter da,' sais he.

"'Creation!' sais I, 'if this don't beat gineral trainin'. I have heerd in my time, broken French, broken Scotch, broken Irish, broken Yankee, broken n.i.g.g.e.r, and broken Indgin; but I have hearn two pure gene_wine_ languages to-day, and no mistake, rael rook, and rael Britton, and I don't exactly know which I like wus. It's no use to stand talkin' to this critter. Good-bye,' sais I.

"Now what do you think he said? Why, you would suppose he'd say good-bye too, wouldn't you? Well, he didn't, nor nothin' like it, but he jist ups, and sais, 'Forwelloaugh,' he did, upon my soul. I never felt so stumpt afore in all my life. Sais I, 'Friend, here is half a dollar for you; it arn't often I'm brought to a dead stare, and when I am, I am willin' to pay for it.'

"There's two languages, Squire, that's univarsal: the language of love, and the language of money; the galls onderstand the one, and the men onderstand the other, all the wide world over, from Canton to Niagara. I no sooner showed him the half dollar, than it walked into his pocket, a plaguy sight quicker than it will walk out, I guess.

"Sais I, 'Friend, you've taken the consait out of me properly. Captain Hall said there warn't a man, woman, or child, in the whole of the thirteen united univarsal worlds of our great Republic, that could speak pure English, and I was a goin' to kick him for it; but he is right, arter all. There ain't one livin' soul on us can; I don't believe they ever as much as heerd it, for I never did, till this blessed day, and there are few things I haven't either see'd, or heern tell of. Yes, we can't speak English, do you take?' 'Dim comrag,' sais he, which in Yankee, means, "that's no English," and he stood, looked puzzled, and scratched his head, rael hansum, 'Dim comrag,' sais he.

"Well, it made me larf spiteful. I felt kinder wicked, and as _I_ had a hat on, and I couldn't scratch my head, I stood jist like him, clown fashion, with my eyes wanderin' and my mouth wide open, and put my hand behind me, and scratched there; and I stared, and looked puzzled too, and made the same identical vacant face he did, and repeated arter him slowly, with another scratch, mocking him like, 'Dim comrag.'

"Such a pair o' fools you never saw, Squire, since the last time you shaved afore a lookin' gla.s.s; and the stable boys larfed, and he larfed, and I larfed, and it was the only larf I had all that juicy day.

"Well, I turns agin to the door; but it's the old story over again--rain, rain, rain; spatter, spatter, spatter,--'I can't stop here with these true Brittons,' sais I, 'guess I'll go and see the old Squire: he is in his study.'

"So I goes there: 'Squire,' sais I, 'let me offer you a rael gene_wine_ Havana cigar; I can recommend it to you.' He thanks me, he don't smoke, but plague take him, he don't say, 'If you are fond of smokin', pray smoke yourself.' And he is writing I won't interrupt him.

"'Waiter, order me a post-chaise, to be here in the mornin', when the rooks wake.'

"'Yes, Sir.'

"Come, I'll try the women folk in the drawin'-room, agin'. Ladies don't mind the rain here; they are used to it. It's like the musk plant, arter you put it to your nose once, you can't smell it a second time. Oh what beautiful galls they be! What a shame it is to bar a feller out such a day as this. One on 'em blushes like a red cabbage, when she speaks to me, that's the one, I reckon, I disturbed this mornin'. Cuss the rooks!

I'll pyson them, and that won't make no noise.

"She shows me the consarvitery. 'Take care, Sir, your coat has caught this geranium,' and she onhitches it. 'Stop, Sir, you'll break this jilly flower,' and she lifts off the coat tail agin; in fact, it's so crowded, you can't squeeze along, scarcely, without a doin' of mischief somewhere or another.

"Next time, she goes first, and then it's my turn, 'Stop, Miss,' sais I, 'your frock has this rose tree over,' and I loosens it; once more, 'Miss, this rose has got tangled,' and I ontangles it from her furbeloes.

"I wonder what makes my hand shake so, and my heart it b.u.mps so, it has bust a b.u.t.ton off. If I stay in this consarvitery, I shan't consarve myself long, that's a fact, for this gall has put her whole team on, and is a runnin' me off the road. 'Hullo! what's that? Bell for dressin'

for dinner.' Thank Heavens! I shall escape from myself, and from this beautiful critter, too, for I'm gettin' spoony, and shall talk silly presently.

"I don't like to be left alone with a gall, it's plaguy apt to set me a soft sawderin' and a courtin'. There's a sort of nateral attraction like in this world. Two ships in a calm, are sure to get up alongside of each other, if there is no wind, and they have nothin' to do, but look at each other; natur' does it. "Well, even, the tongs and the shovel, won't stand alone long; they're sure to get on the same side of the fire, and be sociable; one on 'em has a loadstone and draws 'tother, that's sartain. If that's the case with hard-hearted things, like oak and iron, what is it with tender hearted things like humans? Shut me up in a 'sarvatory with a hansum gall of a rainy day, and see if I don't think she is the sweetest flower in it. Yes, I am glad it is the dinner-bell, for I ain't ready to marry yet, and when I am, I guess I must get a gall where I got my hoss, in Old Connecticut, and that state takes the shine off of all creation for geese, galls and onions, that's a fact.

"Well dinner won't wait, so I ups agin once more near the rooks, to brush up a bit; but there it is agin the same old tune, the whole blessed day, rain, rain, rain. It's rained all day and don't talk of stoppin' nother. How I hate the sound, and how streaked I feel. I don't mind its huskin' my voice, for there is no one to talk to, but cuss it, it has softened my bones.

"Dinner is ready; the rain has damped every body's spirits, and squenched 'em out; even champaign won't raise 'em agin; feedin' is heavy, talk is heavy, time is heavy, tea is heavy, and there ain't musick; the only thing that's light is a bed room candle--heavens and airth how glad I am this '_juicy day_' is over!"