The Puddleford Papers Part 20

"Adams then rose up, and said he must leave, and Jefferson, Uncle Ben, and Fulton followed. And in a moment Uncle Ben, Fulton, Adams, Jefferson, the little man, the apartments, wheels, and machinery, began to rock, and heave, and fade, and finally dissolve; and suddenly I awoke!"

"You _did_ awake!" exclaimed the Colonel, drawing a breath all the way from his boots; "I should have thought you would."

Bates gave a yawn, and throwing his quid into the fire, called for a gla.s.s of whiskey and water, saying he would "try to choke down the story with _that_."

Longbow sat perfectly magnetized--his arms folded across his breast, his chin dropped, his legs resting on his boot-heels, and pushed out in front of him, as though he was driving a hard-bitted horse, and his one eye stared vacantly at the coals in the huge fireplace. He gave an unconscious grunt when Smith concluded, but made no commentary.

Turtle said "the dream was very remarkable for such a man as Smith; but he guessed he _had_ it, and he was going to believe it, because it was upon the word of a Puddlefordian. But he'd had one that beat it all holler--s'prisin' dream--like them air visions that somebody unriddled for--he couldn't recollect the name of the man now--no matter, the dream's the same.

"I got up one morning," said Ike, "and went down to my breakfast-table, but there warn't one of my family present. I saw seated around it, however, a strange company of folks, and dressed as no mortals ever were before, since the flood, I _reckon_. There warn't nothin' that ever I seed before on any on 'em. I took my place at the head of the board, and attempted to do the carvin'; but there warn't n.o.body that understood my meanin'. Pork warn't pork any more; and when I tried to pa.s.s pork, I found that it had a kind-er' fancy name, which I have now forgot.

"One great goggle-eyed fellow, who sat at my right hand, informed a lady near him 'that he'd got-ter go over to Agoria before dinner, and get his sun-dial fixed; but his wings were down at the shop being fixed, and he couldn't start this hour yet."

"'Agoria! Where's that?' asked I.

"'Don't know where Agoria is--ha, ha! On the River Amazon, a trip of a couple of thousand of miles.' And so he took out a little eye-gla.s.s, and looked at me for a long time, and, putting it back in his pocket, said 'he thought I was a North Pole-ander, or a ghost; he didn't know which.

"'Dear me! you _will_ be keerful, now won't you?' said the lady. Two hundred collisions in the air last night, among the winged men; almost as many the night afore--awful!'

"The goggle-eyed man said he would.

"'Did you hear President Jones lecter last night,' said a spectacled critter, at the upper end of the table, sticking his fore-finger out to me.

"'No, sir-_ee_!' I hollered back to him, as I was some little frustrated by this time.

"'He showed,' said the man, 'that one Tom Jefferson prob'bly _did_ write the Declaration of Independence that the ancients made.'

"'You don't say so, though, do you?' said I. 'You're a bright set of chaps the whole on you, President Jones and all.'

"There was a mighty deal said about the Persian war with America; what somebody said who came from Africa last night--what this man and that man done in Congress; but getting out of patience at last, I jumped up, and left the whole on 'em; and as I pa.s.sed out of the room, told 'em 'they might all go to gra.s.s.'

"As I left the house, I saw an almanac hanging on the wall for the year 2564. The first thought, when I saw this, was, '_Where, in the name of Andrew Jackson, is Puddleford now?_'

"But what was my surprise, when I got inter the street, which was all laid with slabs of granite, and lined with palaces, to find Squire Longbow walking along with his wings folded on his back, looking as nat'ral as the old fogy himself.

"'Squire,' said I, 'here's _to_ you!'

"The Squire said 'he hadn't the honor of my 'quaintance.'

"'O, you old scoundrel!' said I, 'you can't come that--'"

"That's false!" exclaimed Longbow; "I didn't have no such talk."

"It was _only_ a _dream_--you forget," answered Ike.

"Exactly," replied the Squire, relapsing into his former mood.

"'You can't come that, old man,' I repeated; 'I could tell you in the streets of Jerusalem in the night; what are you about, old feller? You look fat and p.u.s.s.y.'

"The Squire said 'he was Judge of the Continental Supreme Court.'

"'So I should think,' said I; 'I just left a dozen a.s.ses at my breakfast table, and you're just the man for all the world to be their judge.'

"That's a contempt!" exclaimed the Squire, jumping from his chair.

"Nothin' but a dream, and they allers go by contraries," answered Ike.

"So they do,' said the Squire, calmly, sitting down again.

"Where's Bates, and the Colonel, and Bulliphant, and the other Puddlefordians?' inquired I.

"'Bates,' said the Squire, 'burst a blood-vessel several hundred years ago, running down a southern kidnapper, and died quick-ern a flash. He didn't leave nothing scasely for his family, 'cause he spent all his time on public affairs. The Colonel left the country with the sheriff at his heels; and he rather thought he was somewhere about the streets now, as he saw a feller t'other day 'fore the court, for debt, that looked jest like him.

Bulliphant went off in spontaneous combustion--in a kind of blue fire, and the old woman fretted herself out, a couple of years arter; but,' said the Squire, 'I can't be detained. Story's waitin' for me on the bench, and we decide the t.i.tle to a million of acres of land, at ten this morning.'

"This _woke me_. _Story_ and the _decision_ by _Longbow_, knocked my dream out-er sight."

Bates pulled off his boots, and handing them to Ike, informed him that they were his, by the custom of Puddlefordians, and the meeting adjourned.

CHAPTER XVII.

Ike Turtle in his Office.--The Author consults him on Point of Law.--Taxes of Non-Residents.--Law in Puddleford.--Mr.

Bridget's Case.--Legal Discussion.--The Case settled.

We very often get an idea of a community by fathoming its leading men. We stick our stakes at that point, and reason, by comparison, downward; not that prominent individuals make the community, any more than the community makes them; but both act and react upon each other, until a standard is formed--and that standard is just high enough for the occasion--the necessities of the present. Water never rises above its level.

You have, respected reader, already seen much--perhaps too much--of Ike Turtle. You must recollect, however, as I have before declared, that he was an embodiment of the spirit of his time. He was the presiding genius of Puddleford, and had been as much moulded by it as he had moulded Puddleford.

Turtle, as we have seen, was a host in law--that is, he was a host in Puddleford law. He was just as useful and mighty in his sphere as Webster ever was in his. It must in candor be admitted that there was a difference in spheres; but that in no way affects the principle--and principle is what we are contending for.

I have thus far exhibited to you Turtle under excitement, as an advocate in the case of Filkins _vs._ Beadle, defending his country against what he called an "abolition lecter," struggling in the cause of education; but we cannot always probe a great man to the bottom, and disinter the latent jewels of mind, unless we know and observe him unruffled by pa.s.sion, and unswayed by feeling. The line and lead must be cast into still waters to sound the depths of the ocean.

I had occasion to consult Turtle on a point of law. The question was, whether a certain woman who claimed dower in my land could probably show a state of facts that would legally ent.i.tle her to recover.

Mr. Turtle's office was in one of the upper rooms of a tumble-down tailor's shop in the village. Outside his sign swung to and fro: "I. Turtle, 'Torney in all Courts." Inside, it was garnished with three chairs without backs, a pine table, whittled into pieces by the loungers, a number of loose papers lying in an old flour-barrel, an ink-bottle with a yellow string around its nose, a copy of the statutes, a stub of a pen, volume two of Blackstone, and no law-book beside, all of which were enveloped in dirt and cobwebs.

Mr. Turtle himself, when I entered, sat in one chair, his two feet stretched wide apart, each in another, like the two extremities of a letter A; and Ike himself was very philosophically smoking a pipe, and blowing the whiffs out of the window.

"Is this Mr. Turtle's office?" inquired I.

"I should _ray_ther think it was," answered Ike, drawing out his pipe, and pointing to a chair.

"I have a little business," said I.

"Most people _do_ have," said he. "I'm chuck full on't myself."