"'Good morning, Mr. Smooth!' saluted the fat man behind the mahogany, as I entered the office, having escaped from my perilous position in the seventh story. In addition, he took a lunar observation all along down my hull, which he said was a mighty tough sort of craft, and had received no damage for which the house could be held responsible.
"As if to make the picture more complete, a number of anxious-looking individuals (all firm friends of Uncle Sam) crowded about me, each putting some curious question in reference to my expectations and the Executive and his gifts. Many of these important gentry had proboscises largely developed and very red; indeed, the reddest nose was strongest evidence of the best office-seeker; albeit, some waggishly inclined gentleman had said that the most generously red-nosed man always esteemed his deserts to be no less than that of United States Minister at some very fashionable foreign Court, where the good red of a well-developed nose was significant of pure blood. 'Well now, gents,' I returned, 'you needn't be trying to poke your political fun at this citizen! Young America is all right yet. Put me on the track of Mr. Pierce's whereabouts.' Seeing they were facetiously inclined, I summoned that independence so necessary to a citizen of standing. At this moment, one more politely inclined than the rest, stepped forward, and commenced giving me the ins and outs of the way to see the Brigadier, who, lie said, was surrounded by many fairweather courtiers. Stepping politely to the door, he, with grace not unbecoming, raised a well-gloved hand, and half whispered:—Mr. Smooth will walk into the avenue—keep on the West side—join the throng (they are all officials in embryo)—be sure and look as serious as they do; and with them you will arrive at the 'White House' to take your place and chance.' Oh! chance! 'There is no missing the way, Mr. Smooth; get behind some well-dressed citizen—one who looks as if he were in pursuit of something the means of securing which he had made sure. Follow that man!' I thanked him for his civility,—he seemed one of Uncle Sam's bone-breakers, and sallied out under the happy contemplation that a gentleman from Cape Cod was on a par with the same species of mankind from South Carolina. It was true that with what little aristocracy we boasted—and in that little there was truly a great blessing, inasmuch as it illustrated the fact of there being one spot on this earth where common sense had got the better of refined sense—was founded in the possession of 'niggers,' the number giving rank in the scale. In the small but very aristocratic atmosphere of democratic South Carolina it had been proposed to establish an order of the American garter, the means entitling to membership being the possession of a very large number of fat negroes and negresses: and to ingratiate the august order it was proposed to make Colonel Wade Hampton first knight, and Lady Tyler first knightess. The reader, Mr. Smooth feels assured, will pardon this little digression, which he will set down to my love for that darling little State.
"I soon muddled my way along with the crowd, among which there were very long faces, very short faces, and faces from which nothing could be extracted—the comic faces always kept behind! As a matter of policy I got behind the man who had the longest and most quizzical face; for he gave out signs of seeing daylight through political darkness. I made his acquaintance, and found him of the free-and-easy school. 'On your way to see the General, stranger?' I inquired, edging up to him in a polite sort of way—at the same time keeping up the free-and-easy. 'No,' he answered with a laconic air, and a half significant shrug of the shoulder, 'I'm merely strolling this way, leisurely contemplating. I take it you have not been long in the Capital?' he added. 'You are right on that point, citizen,' said I in return.
"'Expecting a good appointment?' he continued to inquire, philosophically. 'Well, it may be: s'pose you're in for a Ministership, if you come out a martyr,' I replied, adding a Western wink which is given with both eyes. He very good-naturedly acknowledged that I had hit the mark, gave me his arm, said we must look in somewhere by the way-side and taste a small drop of Young American whiskey, which would have the effect of making stronger our friendship. This we did, drinking a good time to Mr. Pierce. No sooner was the whiskey down than all his ideas came straight up. He said he was none of yer small fry;—like thunder he had stumped it for General Pierce; like electricity he had down in Georgia and Western Alabama carried everything for true democracy. 'Reckon Mr. Smooth never was down South?' he concluded, in parenthesis. I assured him I never was; but that I had heard it was great of office-holders, and persons who would, with every consideration for the Union in general, hold the federal government very fast. To this he merely bowed in confirmation. To another question, which was rather of a delicate nature, he said the South did not so much value the emoluments of office; but her sons reverenced the noble qualities of their forefathers, with whom dignity was inherent,—and it was they that were best qualified to maintain and spread its influence for the benefit of the nation. It was the dignity of the nation, made manifest in its government, the South sought to maintain. So said my friend, whose name was Pringle Pierpont—well acquainted with Uncle Sam. All of a sudden he laughed outright, saying I was ignorant of thewhy and how to do, diplomacyof Washington. What it is impossible to get you must always say you never wanted; and what is within your reach, always say was far beyond our expectations. Meantime, be a philosopher, and act with apparent indifference to what is going on around you: never tell a friend you are worth less than one hundred thousand dollars. Upon such an hypothesis you may face the General, talk profound (here and there in parenthesis letting out your knowledge of foreign affairs), but never give him to understand that you can extract crooked and put straight ideas into his head—above all, be sure and feel as independent as a wood-sawyer at two dollars a day. Play well your face, and a spoil of the game just won will be yours. Marcy is father of this principle! Heed not the sympathy between your heart and head,—while the one feels high never let the other play low. Accept anything the General may be pleased to offer, adding that it is in respect to his great talent and your anxiety to keep respectable his foreign affairs; and think how you belie your conscience the while. Now, Smooth, you will see how open-armed the General will be to see me!'
"I told Mr. Pierpont how glad I was to hear it, seeing that it might be the means of putting me through on the same hook. Without hesitation, he said he would do what he could. Had I fought in the Mexican war the case would have been different—had I been true to the South, the case had been very different: the distinctions here enumerated brought down the scale. 'However, the General and me are one, having fought by his side in Mexico, and you shall be put through.' So saying, we proceeded on our way, reaching in a few minutes the White House, the gardens of which we found transplanted with citizens—set here and there as thick as the gardener's tulips. Before the circular carriage-way that sweeps to the great entrance, filed a rampart of moody faces. Mr. Mulligan said they were there for the study of Botany, he believed. Near the great portico stood the tall figure of a man plainly dressed in blackest broadcloth; he sauntered about as if contemplating some hopeless game of party. Another looked as if he had just sprung from a dressing-case to present himself before Grandpapa Marcy, in the hope of his personal appearance making stronger his claims to a very acceptable appointment. A third had a woe-begone smile on his face, and seemed studying the nature of a plant that would soon need a careful hand. When accosted concerning his musings, he said he had done battle right manfully for the democracy; and now Mr. Pierce's only reply was, that his demands were of so hard a nature as to render it impossible for him to knock under. I told him that I would take the small points of Mr. Pierce's ideas, and the strong points of Mr. Marcy's, and from them try to work out the P's and Q's of his case.
"'You don't know if the General is at home, do you?' I inquired of him, with as much good intention as it were possible to put in a question. 'Know nothing about him since he's possessed himself of the White House!—My name is Major Sykes, of the Hard Shells, New York! I know as little of him as the country did before he was elected:—now and then I see him smoking a long nine while laying off at his ease, his dirty boots sticking out of the east window.' Here I interrupted by asking if it were possible such charges could be true. 'True!' (exclaimed he, more gritty than ever), 'true as daylight; the nation may bless itself if he stops there. Be careful, my down-east friend, be careful. He will sell you for a mess of corn for his black pig. Down-east will stand no chance until Down-south gets satisfactorily served: a wondrous change has come over the General since he left the granite hills of his native State, where he did the law trade in a small way. Now—Smooth, I think they call you, says he—if I be not much mistaken the General will create a Babylon of parties, the result of which will render it difficult to define his own position. If the General would but get up acrossbetween southern secessionists and northern free-soilers, how happily it would illustrate his policy.' Clasping his hand, 'Major Sykes,' said I, 'I pity you.'
"'And so do I you,' he replied quickly. 'And when you come face to face with the General, think of Uncle Sam, but don't forget yourself,—that is the motto!' Saying thus, he started off, much after the fashion of a man who feels somewhat fudgy. Duly esteeming the position of a man who has that in his composition which gives power to manliness, and has higher motives than political for its aims, I made my way to the entrance of the White House, whistling Yankee Doodle as I went. The closer I got to the great doors the more violent became the crowd, until at last it ended in a jam of bodies. 'Not so fast!' exclaimed an anxious individual, whose eyes darted terror from their very sockets. 'Gentlemen!—it's my turn,' re-echoes another half-stifled voice. 'Was not I in the city seven weeks before the inauguration? and didn't I carry everything for the General down in Pennsylvania?' roars a tall individual, whose hat had received what may be called a shocking smash. Then they swayed forward in a serf of bodies. Now it poised, as if for breath; then again it swayed onward, threatening limb and wind. An exceedingly lean gentleman, with a hard brown face, and a patch over his left eye, cried out to the figure that stood bowing at the door, and demanded that his card be first taken to the General, whom he was kind enough to declare a right good fellow and a most intimate friend of his. 'Perhaps you have a claim that way!' retorts a sharp voice, which belonged to a sturdy figure well out at the elbows. He declared he had driven the whigs out of Old North Carolina—had carried strong the, State for Pierce and posterity. Another individual near by, and who seemed inclined to doubt the assertion, suggested whether it were not more probable he carried all thewateringestablishments of that renowned state, seeing that his nose and eyes had stood the storm of spirits. No one ever heard of his carrying anything else! 'True,' rejoined another: 'he can drink his way through a democratic canvass, tell the most amiable lies, absorb any amount of chaffing, and stands less at swearing than any other man in the country: more than all, he can demolish the King's English at a stroke.' Such pulling, hauling, squeezing and yawning, 'cussin' and swearing—such cross-firing, crooked joking, and slang jibes, never before was seen in such perfect medley. In calmer moments, even the hard-fisted, iron-hearted, unterrified and never-washed democracy would have shed a few blushes over it. Old democracy was nowhere—Young America was triumphant; his sprouts were up and coming.
"'Clear the way there!' I exclaimed, raising my voice to a point. 'Mr. Smooth will walk in, and himself present his card to the General.' The crowd looked amazed,—begun to give way. 'Mr. Smooth, citizens,' continued I, motioning as if it were my intention to speechify, 'is something of a body—don't stand none of your small fritters. Mr. Smooth—like the principles of his party—was intended for cutting a figure in the world; he will unmask aristocracy, whip creation, and demonstrate the truth of manifest destiny.' Then they all shouted a fashionable hee-haw, by which they hoped to drive me off the track; but it was no go. 'Clar the way,' says I, 'or I'll split the crowd like a thousand of bricks!' I accompanied the word with a terrible look, at which they filed right and left as I chased square up to the inner door, where stood a stiff sort of person, whose clothes had grown on him—so tight were they. Surprised at my sudden approach, he first gave many nervous winks and blinks, and then added the silly airs of my Lord Spoonbill's menial, who, with hair buttered and powdered, knew but the servilities of flunkeyism. 'Is the General at home?' I demanded, adding before he had time to answer, that if he had a spare lucifer I'd have no objection to taking a smoke with him. With the consequence of a sleepy congressman, he inquired if my business with the General was special. He seemed to have the keeping of the General, much after the fashion of a keeper who guards the wild animal of a menagerie.
"'You must send up your card: it's a question whether he is out of his morning gown and slippers, however!' Here the man looked doubtingly at the card, then gave his head a significant shake.
"'General ain't got so mighty big since he moved from New Hampshire?' I inquired, as the fellow hesitated and again viewed me from the extreme points. 'Now, Uncle Sam, to you I would say a word, hoping, in the spirit of a very good christian, that it may be received as wholesome advice. You, Sam, are forgetting that fame which should reflect us in future ages; you, Sam, are assisting those who would lay sullied hands on our pure republicanism—who would sink it in the political slough, and build over it the reeking bastard of a pitiable tyranny. Stretch out thy hand, Sam, that we may cease to cut before the world and the rest of mankind so sorry a figure. Sam! you have sent your little villains out upon the world; recall them ere they prove themselves great fools at our expense.'
"Well, to go back:—I began to push my way past the flunkey, when he summoned his brass and said I couldn't come in—that I must slide myself into costume of the eight stripe! This to me was neither diplomatic nor polite. And being deemed impolite, according to the rules of our Young America, I placed the broad front of my knuckle-bones between his observators, (just to bring out his spunk), and demanded to know what they charged in Washington for a few knockings-down. To which he elongated himself, and with cool assurance said it had never before been his fortune to be put through the process—hence he was not prepared to figure up the amount. A place called limbo, he said, was just over at the corner; that I better keep an eye to it. This last saying gave the crowd outside furniture for a good laugh; they, the citizens, set to quizzing me about the hang of my breeches, which they were pleased to call diplomatic. This, I inferred, was in consequence of Grandpapa Marcy having gone to there was no knowing how deep into the breeches business, hoping thereby to prevent plain American citizens making very unplain apes of themselves when abroad. Indeed, neighbor Marcy would demonstrate to the world that cloth and diplomacy were two very different things. And this doctrine my Uncle Buck—all praise to his name—fully endorsed,—that is, he proved himself the only American minister not given to purloined crests and crimson cloth.
"'Smooth is a nine-cornered citizen in the rough: he needs polishing down with a federal holly-stone before he can be admitted into good society:' a voice like the creaking of a door resounded through the passage. Being a rough sort of citizen didn't affect me as long as I had the straight up-and-down principles within. Well, I got up the go-a-head, and walked in steady. 'T'wont do! citizen Smooth!' interposes the flunkey, putting out his right hand as his face reddened into a blaze. 'Young America must keep within bounds; he must conform to the established etiquette before he can see the General.' Not liking to be out of sorts, I turned to him, and with the best kind of good nature told him not to come within grasping distance.
"Lord bless yer soul, Uncle Sam! I told him it was always good policy to keep civil to distinguished individuals, and treating his insolence as Captain Ingraham would an Austrian proclamation, I kept onward (that's the motto!) until the passage-way opened into a gorgeously decorated hall, the motto on the door of which I surveyed until my head begun to ache. The General seems to have got him a snug and well-ordained establishment, thought I. But the fixings were rather more profuse than democracy in its simplicity had led me to suppose its taste appreciated. But there was no concealing the fact, that the democracy—its love of simplicity not excepted—did pay large sums now and then for showy fixtures and grand failures. The short-comings of the New Hampshire law-shop were extinct—elegance everywhere met the eye. While enjoying my meditations one flunkey approached another, telling him to keep a keen eye on that fellow—meaning me. Then a slim figure done up in dignity and tight clothes approached me with a polite bow: 'Please remember this is the President's mansion,' said he, viewing my perpendicular as if he questioned whether my length was all real growth. Seeing that the establishment belonged to Uncle Sam, I assured him he was a little too impertinent.
"'Now, neighbor!' says I to the citizen, don't deceive yourself by supposing the General has got his aristocracy up like this before he has lodged three months in the White House. I'm an independent citizen; come to put some straight policy into the General, who, with the assistance of his grind-stone man, Fourney, unfortunately has got everything into a twist. My name (sometimes they call me Squire) is Solomon Smooth. It don't matter what they call me now, for be it known, ye men of titles, all the fishermen in our district have become judges and generals. This is the result of that necessity that makes negro-drivers of the south captains and majors. 'But the President,' said he, 'has got such a fearful load of business on his hands this morning, it will be impossible he can see Mr. Smooth, nor are the apartments in a state to be seen by visitor—' 'Always in the suds!' I interrupted. 'No! that ain't it,' he continued, half trembling of fear; 'but the President is new, nor yet has got into the straight way of doing crooked business.'
"'Never mind that,' replied I, 'Smooth's an independent citizen, who must not be interfered with while taking a turn round the establishment: he neither stands on ceremony nor political point-making.' The fact was, Mr. Smooth had a very wholesome hatred of the nonsense of ceremony, and always pitied that complacency of Uncle John Bull who, like a well-worn and faithful pack-horse, never flinched under the heavy burden of that precious legacy called royal blood, which, said blood, was fast absorbing the vital blood of the nation. May our Union always be spared the degradation of such blood!
"The fellow, seeing I was not to be outdone, gave it up for a bad job, and contented himself with following me here and there, keeping a fixed eye on my motions, as if he feared I was going to become enamoured of some of Mr. Pierce's chambermaids, which said commodity was acknowledged to be very pretty, and much admired by Jones, who did the fashionable at Willard's. It having been said that the General, like Jackson, would keep himself, I endeavored to persuade the fellow to show me his nook. He only shook his head and said it wouldn't do: so I took a careless stroll through the loose apartments, and ceased only when my sight was gratified. 'Well!' says the flunkey, adding a deep sigh and a despairing shake of the head, 'it's no use trying to control this citizen; he's of the fast school, without bowels.'
"'You may believe it!' returned I, advancing toward a broad circular stairway that wound downward far into the regions below, where I expected to find Fourney and Company holding the General down upon the grindstone, while Uncles Caleb and Jeff turned, and Marcy stood by to say when enough of the rough was got off. 'There! in my soul he's going down into the kitchen!' The fellow bawled out as I passed down, and soon disappeared, saying it was just the winding way I sought; and, though the things to be seen in the vortex to which it led might be dangerously dear to the nation, the proof would at least be convincing. On I went, the way darkening as I advanced.
"Down, down, down, went, groping my way (significant of the General's policy) through a long dark passage, whence came a rancorous stench, strong enough to kill cats and doubtful democrats. 'Keep the right hand way for the kitchen: General is in there, assisting in the making of a monster stew. Work your course through the smoke—you may be sure Mr. Pierce is in the thickest cloud, though over the smallest stew-pan,' a voice echoed, as if broken on the winds. 'All right!' I muttered, confronting on my way the still stronger odour of the sickening steam. My intention was to have a political discussion with the cook (Fourney by name) and say a thing or two to the General; for I had got a sort of cross-grained notion into my head that he was compounding a grand stew for the black pig with the horns. Meanwhile my stomach said it would have no objection to join the General over a good breakfast. Presently I scented the frying of fish, which betold that I was on the right track. But lo! as I was about to open a great door that led into where the fussing and frying was going on, a voice screamed out—'Visitors are forbidden these premises!' Here was a pretty kettle of political fish. 'Much you know about it!' I replied testily, and turning saw nothing but fog and confusion. Faith and energy being the two great pillars of human progress, I summoned them to my aid, and pressed onward, determined to see for myself who regulated the culinary. This resolution was adopted solely on the ground that the General had repudiated his responsibility to the people, and joined hands with those who eat up all the loaves and little fishes.
"Mr. Smooth, on behalf of Young America, esteemed the having positive proof of how Mr. General Pierce kept his kitchen things a duty he could not forego, and upon the strength of which he presented himself to the august culinary cabinet, which he found enveloped in a dense cloud. As I passed the great door, a fat man from Florida, who filled that office of steady habits, the doorkeeper, said Mr. Smooth, which he read on my card, was decidedly impertinent; the more so because neither of the old grey-back parties had ever troubled themselves about the kitchen fixings; that the present was an innovation he was sure Mr. Pierce would resent by the withholding of appointments. I left him to his opinion, and delved my way through the smoke, until I began to think I had lost myself, and instead of Mr. Pierce on the grindstone found a lower region of unlimited extent—so murky and dismal was the place. They said it didn't use to be so! Such fritter frying; such johnny-cake baking; such chowder making, and flounder frying! Nearly a dozen fine buxom-looking, corn-fed females (helps),—such as Vermont only can grow, were stuffing and stewing, and beating and battering, and themselves seeming on the eve of dissolution. They evinced alarm at my presence, but I told them not to be scared, inasmuch as I was an intimate acquaintance of the General, for whom I carried Cape Cod. On the left side of the kitchen there stood at a great deal table an aged maid whose mien was somewhat fidgety. This visible nervousness was increased with the labour necessary to prepare the ponderous pile of soft dough-nuts she worked upon; which, she said, when ready (though of little substance) were intended to satisfy the Down-easters, who never expected much, and seldom got anything. I pitied the poor old lady, for she seemed well worn. She declared it was pinching times in the kitchen—that is, her part of it. She prepared a deal of little niceties for the peace-loving North: but, the General was so pinching with matters on that side of the house, and had become so enamoured of the black pig! This voracious brute demanded everything, and got what he demanded—even got us into a deal of trouble. Indeed, it had been said that all the swill in the country wouldn't satisfy him—he would seek abroad for more. 'Needn't be afraid, old lady,' said I, edging up to her in a polite sort of way: 'Smooth won't harm nobody. The New Englanders think well of the women—they do!' Here I gave the old lady my hand, and shook her's right heartily. 'Why,' I continued, 'there's three Women's Rights Societies down Massachusetts way, any one of which can start a breeze at pleasure—blow the men all into thunder! I say, old lady, better join one of them—pay fifty cents, and blow the men all into political rags. Musn't take what I say amiss; but you looks as if you could do some blowing: the General standing much in need of that article, why not volunteer? The General is going it pretty fast now, but just get the Women's Rights Societies to blow him a little, and he'll go fast enough for any Young American party out.' After leaving the old woman, who said she was nearly related to General Cass, I went politely to the other girls, bidding them, one after another, a square down good-morning, ending with a social chat and a smile for them all. On the opposite side of the smoky kitchen stood the grim figure of a nigger wench, as big as the north side of a Dutch lighthouse, and as saucy as Benton's goat. The way she was making the wool fly over a sas-pan as big as old Zack Coffin's ile kettle was a caution to nervous folks. 'What on earth have ye got in that, eh?' I inquires, peeping over the side into the half-scalding foam.
"'What business is that to you?' sounds, like thunder rolling away in the distance, from t'other side the cauldron. Looking up almost dumb-founded I espied the hard phiz of the General, in dim outline through the fog and steam, stirring away at a massive ladle.
"'Pierce! Lord love yer soul—is it you?' says I, my feelings rising into a rhapsody of affection for him: 'Give us yer hand.'
"'Yes, it's me; just come round here if you can see your way through,' says he; and I fumbled my way round, and got him by the hand, and had a hearty good shake, just for old acquaintance sake.
"'But what in the name of Columbus are you doing here?' I inquired, touching him on the elbow, significantly.
"'Well!' he answers, rather undecidedly, 'just helping prepare this pot of mixture for the black pig.' He kept on moving his big ladle with one hand and throwing in additional feed with the other, from a bucket that stood close by.
"I inquired of the General where he kept so dangerous an animal, and was told in the most complacent manner that he ran all about, was as ravenous of power as the gentleman of those lower regions we hear so much about is of sinners; that he demanded all the country's swill. Here the General threw into the cauldron another sprinkling of grits, which he said was to complete the pot of homony. It was merely the daily feed of the black pig, which the colored female assisted the General in preparing. The General seemed very good-natured, and commenced a mathematical description of the ingredients of the mixture, when suddenly there came a fierce blow from behind, which well nigh tilted him deep into the foaming liquid. I grabbed the broad expanse of his nether garments, while the wench screamed, and was only quieted when she found him safe under her broad lee. A deep sonorous voice responded:—'Stir quicker in the feed!' I turned to see from whence it came, and who had dealt thus unmercifully with the General, when behold! there stood this hideous animal. With fourteen horns he incessantly used, and two just growing, he hoped in time to use; with a back of thorns he ever and anon threatened all who came near him; with a tail of poison he defiantly lashed, and a wicked eye that sought objects afar off—he was the most pertinacious brute unchained. Moreover he had a snout like a ploughshare, with which he had frequently driven Mr. Pierce to the wall.
"'Add more grits!' again the brute growled out, as if alike unhappy with himself and those around him. The voice had scarcely delivered its command, when Mr. General Pierce, as undecided as wanting in vigor of intellect, turned gently round, patted the hideous monster on the head—said he would do all he could to pacify him, though to appease his discontent seemed impossible. Indeed, it was a fact that notwithstanding much of the swill intended for the whiter portion of the litter was sacrificed to this demanding brute, he illustrated his gratitude by threatening to swallow Mr. Pierce into the bargain. This was most unfortunate, seeing how much had been done to transplant the breed to foreign lands.
"Mr. Smooth felt that for a President to be thus driven to extremes was indeed an unenviable position. I told him I thought Young America would do something, and, with a little advice concerning his principles, passed on through the smoke and foam until I confronted Uncle Jeff and Cousin Guth, both hard at work over a blazing fire, frying a monster fish. Uncle Jeff's apron looked as if he did most of the greasy work, while Guth looked on and directed the turns—now and then whispering a word to the French cook, who with sparkling eye, and oval olive face, and hair so glossy, black, and curly, was dexterously compounding a luscious sauce. 'Going it on the strong!' said I, giving Uncle Jeff a significant wedge under the shorts as he was about to let the grease in the stew-pan fuzzle. Guth, who at the moment commenced dredging in a little more pepper, and a little more butter, and a small sprinkling of salt, said they had been trying to cook this old fish for there was no knowing how many years, all to no purpose; but now that the arts of the very best French cook in the country had been secured he was sure to be done brown. Here he smiled and turned to the cook in question, who bowed with such grace! Such a bow in the presence of ladies would have secured his reputation. Indeed, the said cook was extremely neat of person, though rather below the middle stature, and was well thought of among lawyers and ladies, who declared they liked his graces better than his gravies. 'He's of the right stripe—a fillibuster cook!' said Jeff, exultingly, as Guth gave the coals another stir. 'This is a Cuba flounder,' interposed Guth. 'You see, Mr. Smooth, the General is exceedingly partial to this sort of flounder, but he doesn't understand the quality of dressing requisite to the cooking it—he must be done with native sauce. It is necessary he should be fried in a southern griddle, with plenty of native sauce—an article for which this cook of ours is not celebrated.'
"'Well, gents!' rejoined I, 'if you do brown that old fellow this season I'll knock under. However, don't be bashful about extending Smooth an invitation to breakfast: understand, he is rather fond of a good fish hash, which he thinks it is the profession of your French cook to do up.'
"'Lord bless you!' quickly interrupted Uncle Jeff, 'being a good Down-east democrat, your wish shall be gratified.' Then in great good nature he told me just to step along, and a little further into the dark smoke I'd find Grandpapa Marcy and Uncle Dib, exerting their wondrous energies over a stew they were puzzled to get to the right substance. Knowing that their good advice was much better as example than the result of their actions, I wended my way along, leaving Guth and Jeff to their frying, and soon came upon the two old worthies, busily employed over stews of the most incomprehensible ingredients. 'That,' spoke Grandpapa Marcy, as I approached within hearing distance, 'is the real democratic stew, it will cement hard shells and soft shells into one strong conglomerate mass.' He pointed to a punch-bowl held between their legs—(for they were seated on the floor)—and containing a mixture they stirred with spoons containing the Tammany-hall mark. For some time I stood contemplating the venerable appearance of these two, nor could I resist a smile at the singular occupation they had so readily adopted. Uncle Dib seemed happy, and evidently had a keen sense of what the consistency of the stew must be to make the flounder palatable. Grandpapa's countenance, nevertheless, wore an air of deep anxiety. He had undertaken the management of the most unruly set of cooks that ever infested the kitchen of a respectable gentleman; and they had made a shocking mess. And, too, Grandpapa, was unhappy; his clothes bore seedy marks, and his breeches were in such a plight—it really excited our pity. I called his attention to an unmentionable rent in a conspicuous place, but he seemed careless about it—said it was of no consequence—and that Uncle Sam was a good old soul, and always paid the tailor—he knew from experience. Suddenly I heard the formidable negro-wench raising her voice in admonition. She was scolding the General, who still kept stirring in the homony grits for the black pig. Then a noise came through the foam and smoke as of one in trouble. 'Faster, faster!' it spoke, 'stir in more grits!' Then followed a loud splash and a deathlike shriek; alarm and consternation spread throughout the building. From the cauldron came the cry. Grandpapa moved for a moment, as was his custom, declared the voice to be no other than that of the General himself. Dib agreed ('There's trouble!' he exclaimed) and both sprang to their feet, and with anxious countenances hastened to the rescue, Marcy crying out, as he passed Jeff and Guth, 'Stick by the flounder, boys! Stand firm; don't give in until he's well cooked; we'll save the General—you dig in the basting.' The boys, as Grandpapa called them, were crowding the charcoal finely. Always having a taste for seeing what was going on, I kept close at Dib's heels, and soon saw through the grim smoke where the trouble was. The black pig had got the General poised by the nether part of his breeches, on his Virginia horn, and was having a nice little game of shuttle-cock with him, just for his own amusement, while his executive victim shrieked most piteously, expecting every succeeding surge would land him beneath the surface of the boiling mass. The old nigger wench had fainted at the sight, and lay sprawled on the floor, as Marcy, making a grab at Mr. Pierce's breeches at a moment when the savage brute was giving a last vault ere he landed his victim into the scalding homony, tripped his toe and brought his length upon the floor beneath the pig's hind legs. 'It's all gone!' exclaimed the General; and in another minute nothing was seen save the soles of his boots protruding above the boil-surface. The surly brute, having generously moistened Grandpapa Marcy's head, stood, his fore-feet on the rim of the cauldron, gazed after his struggling victim, and held his head high aloft in triumph. This brought Uncle Dib to the rescue. After raising Grandpapa, with limbs extended, they drew forth the half-cooked body, reeking with the black pig's swill, and laid it on the kitchen floor, the ungrateful quadruped walking victoriously away. Satisfied that I had seen enough for one day, I sought my way back to the National, where I contemplated the next move necessary to my mission.
"Well, Uncle Sam, I reckoned I'd seen enough of the kitchen arrangements; so I left them scraping the General—that is, getting off the injured outside, in order to see what really he was made of, and what he had beneath the undefinable cover. When in Washington, there's nothing like going ahead; and if you can look a man into respect for you, so much the better. Dignitary or no dignitary won't do; you must always profess to be a distinguished individual. Well, on the strength of the invitation extended by Jeff—to take a fish breakfast on the following morning, when it was expected the flounder would be done brown, I again repaired to the White House, and after pushing my way through all kinds of passages and doorways, found myself in a gorgeous sort of establishment.
"'Your lookin for somethin, I take it?' said a trim figure, whose face rather bordered on the brassy.
"'Well! I reckon I am. Can you tell a stray citizen where the General hangs out in the morning?' I replied, as he confronted me and paused.
"'Sartin!' he rejoined, interrupting me, and at the same time looking very sociable, as if he wanted to have a talk on politics. Nevertheless, it was getting close upon the hour of breakfast; so he takes me by the arm, and stepping through a frickazeed passage up to a large door which opened into a ponderously furnished room, 'I'll take your card, sir!' continued he, with a low bow and a motion of the hand to sit down.
"Didn't have a card at hand, but chalked down Mr. Solomon Smooth, from Cape Cod, on a piece of thick paper per, that suited all the purposes.
"'Mr. Smooth belongs to the Young American party, if I mistake not?' he returned, with a polite bow.
"'You better believe that, citizen!' says I, and off he goes, soon disappearing through a door at the other end of the room. While he was gone, I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a survey of the premises. So, lighting my cigar, I began at the top end first. Such looking-glasses, sofas, carpets—so much fashion and flummery, that nobody could tell what utility it contained, I never had seen before. Tell you what it is, Uncle Sam, we have an expensively queer way of representing our republican simplicity! As I was squinting about, in comes the General, looking as bright as a newly-coined cent. Running up to me, with hand extended, and exulting with joy, he spake: 'Great kingdom, Smooth!—is it you?' And then he shaked my hand as if he never would let it go.
"''Tis me too!' says I, giving him a significant touch on the elbow. 'Didn't expect to see you looking so bright, General—rather a bad kettle of fish that you unfortunately got into yesterday, eh?'—
"'Oh no—things like those are mere trifles; hardly worth mentioning amidst the current turmoil of the day. That black pig is an ungrateful brute, though, I must confess in confidence,' the General replied, touching me on the arm.
"'He sunk you in the very swill you were cooking for him, eh?—petulant brute!' I rejoined.
"'Well, Smooth,' said he, 'don't let us say any more about that; I was deceived—most egregiously! How are all the Young Americans down your way—the real go-ahead stripe?' he inquired anxiously: and we both laughed heartily to see one another. 'They're all bright ends up, General,' said I. 'General!' (I touched him on the shoulder) ''taint more nor three years since we used to go fishing in old Sam Peabody's pond; hain't forgot it, I reckon?'
"'Not I, Smooth. Give us yer hand for old acquaintance sake! No change of power or circumstances could make me forget old associations. Fortune may change, my feelings never; they have been and shall always be with the people.' The General couldn't keep the dignity on, to save his life; he was not born to do so!
"'Give us yer hand, General,' I demanded in reply; 'right glad to see you, and to know that old New Hampshire's granite hills have not faded from your memory, nor been absorbed in the quantity of swill it seems necessary to provide for the black-pig. But, I say, Frank, what harlequin-like changes politics take in a republic—now and then! Two years ago, and who'd a' thought a' seeing you here? 'Stonished you yourself, didn't it? Scarcely expected to brush old General Scott's fuss and feathers into a cock'd up hat, eh? There's nothing like a man keeping his mouth shut when he's got others to do the fighting for him; you know that, don't you, General?'
"'Mr. Smooth is always asking some strange questions, or making some queer observation!'
"'Now, General, I reckon how you didn't get the hang of this 'ere establishment all on a sudden? Seems to me how I'd like to be President of these United States about two months, merely to have the satisfaction of straightening the cross-grain of political parties; they have got so so crooked now-a-days.' The President just then said he would take my hat, and hoped I make myself quite at home. As everything seemed so comfortable, I had not the slightest objection. 'Now, Smooth,' he reiterated, spreading his length on a magnificent sofa, 'I am anxious to hear how the Young American party progresses down your way; and you must tell me all about it. I intend to give you a roving commission as my minister in general.'
"'I'll do that,' I replied, and just when I was getting the story fixed square, he interrupted me by saying—'One moment, Mr. Smooth; we are going to have a flounder breakfast—it's the same old fellow you saw Uncle Jeff and Guth cooking yesterday morning,—they've got him pretty well browned—You must join us.'
"'Well,—have no objection; but tell us, General, how is the missus?'
"'Right well, Smooth; she'll be delighted to see you.'
"'And so will I to see the missus; I know'd her when she warn't bigger nor Cousin Obadiah's Jane, and didn't think no more about being Mrs. President of these United States nor my missus.' In answer to which, the General said a respectable man might as well be President as anything else—we all know how to be. Here we joined arms, and like jolly fellows of a stripe, took a few turns up and down the apartment. 'Well! here's pure democracy,' thought I to myself. Taking Mr. President Pierce's arm doubled my independence—made me feel that I was the left wing of his brightest hope. Having talked over a few small matters of foreign policy, we sauntered together into one of the largest, and longest, and handsomest breakfast rooms this side of Texas. A table of great length stretched across its centre, upon which was arranged in profusion, Georgia potatoes, New Hampshire bacon, Virginia oysters and fried eels, South Carolina rice cakes, and Cape Cod fish balls—all strong incentives to the stomach of a hungry politician. Trim waiters stood round, like statues tailored and anxiously waiting a guest's nod. As I cast a bird's eye glance down the scene, in popped the General's missus, all calm, and with an air of motherly gentleness that inspired me with lofty reflections on woman's mission. As she approached with her hand extended, and such a sweet smile on her face, I could not resist a salutation thus earnest, and grasping it, gave it a good, warm-hearted shake. She said great was her joy at seeing Mr. Smooth—plain Solomon Smooth. She could not feel more joy were I an Emperor—no not even were I a governor of Hungary, who, having lost the chance of winning a diadem, would Uncle Sam lent him aid to regain it. In another minute the gong sounded, the great doors at the opposite end of the hall opened, a train of serious-faced gentry entered, and as unceremoniously took seats. Mr. Smooth being put down number one, took a seat beside the missus. After a blessing had been dispensed, the conversation turned on politics and potatoes. A potent-looking individual, who sat not far down the table, said the Union was known by its magistracy, which being an established fact, should make it incumbent that no chief of this great and growing nation leave the federal chair unmarked by some bold stroke. 'Good!' says I, 'Smooth always went in for bold strokes—they are just the things to make outsiders knock under—' Here I was just getting up to make a speech on behalf of manifest destiny, when a gent who ought to have been voted into the army as a regular cried out:—'Keep cool! keep cool! Mr. Smooth.'
"Scarcely had he ceased speaking, when Uncle Caleb Grandpapa Marcy, Cousin Guth, and good-natured Uncle Dib, and the grindstone-man, Fourney,—all dressed in bright aprons, and white ghost-like night-caps—made their appearance, tugging and puffing at a hand-bier, on which lay the much-talked-of flounder. Jeff, who walked in front with a drawn sword, wheezed, and Grandpapa grunted, and Dib said, 'Carry a steady hand, boys!' and Guth said he would bear up his part, which was the tail part. Staggering along under the load, they brought forth in solemn procession the flounder, and after a good deal of bad diplomacy, laid him, like a stuffed whale, on the table. The General was not quite certain about the catch of this flounder; but as there was nothing like having a dash at things now-a-days,—'here's go into it!' he exclaimed. 'I don't believe that fish is cooked enough,' retorted John Littlejohn, a statesman of very elastic capacity, who spoke for Uncle Bull, on t'other side of the big pond.
"Looking as if he were about making a longe into him, hit or miss, the General seizes up the big carving-knife (generally used by Grandpapa Marcy) and asks who will have the first bit? The pall-bearers, still retaining their bright aprons and white caps, had taken seats at the table, among the guests. 'It's all for me!' mumbles a sullen voice; no one knew from whence it came. 'It's all for me!—who are you?' reiterated Mr. Pierce, kicking under the table: 'I believe in my soul it's the black pig, who always pursues unto the death what he considers his!' True enough, there the savage brute was, lashing everybody's legs, and threatening destruction with his wicked mouth. No one knew how he got into the dining-room; but where the good Uncle Sam had anything to eat or give, there he was sure to be, demanding more than his share. After a hard tussle, Grandpapa and Uncle Caleb succeeded in driving him out of the room; albeit, it was only for a time. The unsatisfied animal was always keeping Uncle Sam in a fuss, and the folks about the White House in an uproar. 'That critter is always crying 'Me first!' rejoined Uncle Caleb, who, having lost his white cap in the tussle with the black pig, looked funny indeed.
"'A Cuba flounder!' exclaims the General, who continued to work diligently, his face flushed as crimson, but I as yet he had failed to secure the first slice. It was evident he had made a stroke too bold, and would now be compelled to draw back a little—perhaps to take a few more lessons in the diplomacy of carving. And while the General was trying to get the knife into the neck part, the critter opened its mouth, and gasping looked as if it thought some of swallowing a whole cabinet of philibusteroes.
"'The brute ain't cooked yet—if it don't open its mouth!' proclaimed the General, the hair almost standing on his head, as he reclined back in fright.
"'The critter's going to be generous, I do believe!' chimed in Grandpapa, whose white cap, during the moment of excitement, had fallen over into Mrs. Dobbin's plate; from whence that good-natured lady, in the moment of anxiety, removed it to her lap, and ere she had been served found it near her pretty lips, under the mistaken impression of its being a napkin. Grandpapa, discovering his loss, politely developed the dear lady's mistake.
"'Tell you what it is General; you'll have to be mighty careful, or that Cuba flounder will swallow all the shiners in Uncle Sam's brass box without yielding anything in exchange,' I insinuated.
"'Not a bit on't!' says Uncle Jeff, going off into a state of excitement: 'Just lend me the carver; I'll put him through;' and seizing the knife from Mr. Pierce's hand, and the steel from Grandpapa's, he was just on the point of making a thrust into the fish, when his mouth again expanded, his fins fluttered, and out came a long roll of paper. 'What on earth is that?' inquired the astonished General, as Jeff unconsciously let the knife fall in fright, and Grandpapa gave an anxious look toward the door, as if to measure the distance between it and his chair,—while John Littlejohn applying his glass to his eyes, squinted seriously at it. 'He's not just done enough for you yet, gentlemen; I think you had better let him stand awhile,' remarks our Cousin John, rather coolly. 'You cannot republicanize him, unless you change his head and heart; I can tell you that, my good fellows.'
"Uncle Jeff, at Grandpapa's bidding, took up the roll of paper, the text of which Mr. Pierce requested him to read. 'A protest, your Excellency!' said Jeff, the paper vibrating in his nervous hand. 'It says, this is to notify Brother Jonathan, that the extreme largeness of his appetite, insatiate in its demands for my body, shall never be gratified therewith. You are far-seeing, have grown powerful, and are rather a good sort of fellow, Jonathan; but I'm not quite ready to say I should prefer either to belong to your household or provide your table with dainty dishes. The fact is, Jonathan, and you know it, when disposed to think on the square, we are not prepared to denounce our league loyalty and come over to you; common sense might have convinced you of this fact. The world protests against your forcing propensities in this little affair between us. For more than two centuries have I remained at peace; let me so continue. I admit that kings, queens, and courtiers, have feasted on my fatlings, and even discomfited me, and caused much discontent among my people; but even they would rather bear the ills that be than fall victims to your black pig's will.'
"'Well!' interrupted Uncle Jeff, looking suspiciously about the table, 'if he ain't the toughest old flounder I ever did see!'
"'Shouldn't be surprised if you found it so!' replied the fish, his spacious jaws opening, and the end of another parchment slowly protruding from his mouth. 'Read that! I must get somebody to help me to eject this instrument.' The General wrested it from its mouth, turned it over and over, and tried and retried to read it. 'It's a protest from John, my Uncle, John Bull and Johnny Crappo, which says:—'We, the said John and Louis, having entered into a sublime alliance with our sublime brother of the East, by which one great and mighty power has been concentrated, do humbly beg Mr. President Pierce (for whom we now have and ever hope to entertain the very highest esteem) that he take heed how he dips his fingers into other people's political pies. And, further, while exhibiting so earnest a desire to appropriate the choicest delicacies of his neighbors to the cravings of his black pig, to be a little more modest. Now, we, the undersigned Louis and John, whose names—in alliance have become mightiest among the mighty, are duly convinced of the many inconsistencies, irregularities, and breaches ofgoodfaith, together with the many petty acts of tyranny, the mother of this Antilla flounder has been guilty of, to her own disgrace. But greatness should be known by its forbearance with the weak; hence we should bear and forgive. Yea, we admit that her footprints are marked with blood—that her history has numberless pages written in blood—that her arrogance and avarice have blotted out her national virtue, and now work like a battering-ram her downfall. Yet, as arrogance is but another name for weakness, is it not better to brush off than kill the wasp? The principle herein contained we have, in the sublimity of our power, adopted as an example to the nations of the earth. Jonathan! we like your amiability; we esteem you as a keen fellow, who, large of trade, and wise in the ways of a cheap government, may well boast a happy people: bridle, then, the audacity of that southern ambition, lest it betray you into unforseen difficulties. Let peace be the guardian of that commerce now teeming its grandeur and wealth on your shores; and in all kindness, Mr. Pierce, do we speak, when we say,—look to thosethingsyou send into foreign lands to represent the quiet grandeur of our institutions: send the gentleman whose conduct may be a means to great ends, for ruffians leave their little stains behind.''
"'Well!' exclaimed the General, his large square face reddening with anxiety, as he turned to Uncle Dib and Grandpapa, 'I should call this the insolence of sublime power. Let them try their sublime power on this side of the Atlantic!' Here the General gave his head a significant toss, and wiped his lips as he added,—'Young Americacan whip the three.' This pithy speech being received with great applause, he reached over his hand, and was about taking mine, when I warmly embraced his, saying—'Give me you yet, General! Messrs. John, Louis & Co., having consolidated their sublime power, must not entertain the idea of making a menace over here. We have no means of questioning the legitimate qualities of this sublime joint-stock company; but we would advise its keeping decidedly cool about matters this side of the big water, lest its stock get to a very low-water mark. This old flounder, nevertheless, is a hard case for cooks, nor in my opinion will he be made softer by that celebrated French cook of yours, whose process is that of too suddenly piling on the charcoal. In fact, I believe it not untrue that in political cooking a Frenchman is more a man of muss than method. This you, General, might have known before you engaged him to cater for Spanish appetites. In truth, (it must be told now and then, General), that black pig you so fondly nurse, and which you can neither tame nor make grateful, is sacrificing us to his poisonous litter. And, too, he is dividing his own pen; and when pigs become divided among themselves, refuse to eat out of one trough, and threaten to devour each other, they are sure to become an easy prey to the bore of fractional sovereignity.' With the exception of the General, all listened attentively while I spoke: he, exhibiting little concern, arose with the calmness of moonlight, and was about to make some remarks, as the flounder again opened wide his mouth, which produced a pause. 'You are right,' joined in the flounder; 'that black pig's love of territorial feasts knows no bounds, nor will he stop at that point where justice sets the limit; he will continue his insatiate trade until common sense and generous sentiment interpose and exterminate him. Here is another paper for you—read it! It is the protest of the people of free, enlightened, and happy New England: they protest against being swallowed up in your black pig's bowels!' Again the flounder mechanically closed its mouth.
"'And my old governor across the water will not view with indifference this black brute's ever-threatening disturbances. He watches long, waits patiently, moves cautiously, but enters upon the execution of his plans with monstrous method,' interrupted Littlejohn, who spoke on behalf of his nation, and for thestatus quoof nationalities in general.
"'I say, neighbor,' rejoins Mr. Sam Blowaway, a leader of the national Young American party, 'pears how, if your old chap over there attempts that game, he'll get himself boots deep into a scrape he'll not find it so easy to claw out on.' And Sam got right up, and looked brimstone at him, straight across the table.
"'I'm methodical, but not easily repulsed: impulsive acts do not constitute valor,' returned John, rising coolly and dispassionately.
"'Grandpapa Marcy now got up to say a word or two, but Mr. Pierce had the floor, and demanded—Order! Order, gentlemen!—Order in the White House! My boys want to get me into trouble, but I feel that I can yet regulate my own household!' he rejoined, with a peremptory tone that excited surprise.
"'Yes,' replied the flounder; 'I say so too. If you do not keep quiet, and live in harmony among yourselves, I will be the means of swallowing you.' Just at this moment the black pig, with savage grunt, bounded fearlessly into the room and upon the table, where he confronted the flounder with open mouth, overturned the table, smashed all the crockery and pewter, made the uproar and confusion complete. The pig and flounder fell upon each other, wrestled among the wreck, nor ceased until, like Kilkenny cats, they had nearly devoured their substance. Such a chaos of excitement as followed! Grandpapa and Uncle Jeff ogled one another in fear and trembling, women fainted in the arms of gallant men; the General, covered with fish gravy, cut the more sorry figure, as with thunderstruck countenance he raised his hands to protest to the nation. Meanwhile the guests suddenly disappeared, and Grandpapa seriously damaged the broad disc of his unmentionables; while Uncle Caleb, shaking his sides with laughter, stood his comely figure in the doorway, the thumb of his right hand to his nasal organ, and his fingers making five angles, quizzing the General in his dilemma. Esteeming it rather an ugly situation for Mister President Pierce, for whose dignity I had a special regard, I picked myself up, made an apology, bowed myself to the great door, and left the General to his pig. 'What a mess you have made of it!' thought I, and straightaway ascended the cupola to watch the nation's emotion.
"Whenthe nations of Europe give themselves up to the sword, let us aggrandize ours with the arts of peace. This is my talisman. In that commerce which is our nation's pride there is more of greatness than war can give, more of power than armaments can command. It would be well, Uncle Sam, if you pondered over this; because, having your pockets well lined, war could supply numberless valiant sons ready to do the emptying of them. This was a private opinion, which forced itself upon my mind as I (having received a commission as minister in general to Mr. Pierce) engaged passage in a spacious balloon, with which to navigate this little globe of ours, and report here and there on the condition of our international difficulties. Indeed, some of those difficulties required looking after. And as no man should permit his dignity to take the upward turn when a penny may be turned, I reckoned on turning what I learned to the very best account. That you spend your money very foolishly, Sam, is as true as sunrise; but more than that, you intrust your honor (which is more precious than your gold) to those who are seen abroad only to misnomer us. To counteract this state of things is the primary object of my mission round the globe.
"This I was anxious to impress on General Pierce; but he seemed to have a wavering bump on his head, and not seeing his way clear, came to the peculiar conclusion that Mr. Smooth had a very novel head, full of novel notions. But he told me, by way of becoming enlightened on the affairs of other nations, to keep a bright look-out, note down the items, and see where we could turn the go-ahead of our people to account. As most of our small disputes were with Mr. John Bull, who was prone to keep open any quantity of very vexatious questions, Mr. Pierce thought it good policy to make John Littlejohn a fellow voyager with me. It was not a bad idea, seeing that Mr. Pierce had an inward hatred of the Britishers, nor thought a war with them would be the most unpopular thing in the world, inasmuch as it would attach to him the Young American party, which said party might in gratitude render good service to his re-election. Upon this principle Littlejohn's company was acceptable; and when he joined me at the National we had a social bit of a chat together about the matter. John was not a bad fellow when once you knew how to take him, but he had qualities of character which at times seemed at variance with what he would have us believe were his straightforward principles. It was this trait of character, at times defying analysis, we had to treat with most care, lest unconsciously it embroil us. My friend Palmerston might without prejudice be taken as an excellent representative of this unfortunate trait. 'Now,' says John, in a methodical sort of way, 'there are, to be honest, (and acts will prove the truth of a principle), two great pirates in the world. You know that, Smooth, just as well as I do.'
"'No I don't,' says I.
"'But you do!' he returns. 'There's your Uncle Sam: he will steal all territory adjoining his dominions,—in a good-natured sort of way, merely to work out the problem of manifest destiny. As for my old gentleman, Uncle John, why he has a dignified way of doing things, always plays the part of a bold gentleman, and when he joins a kingdom it is with a modesty so quiet and genteel. You needn't shake your head, Smooth,—such are facts; nevertheless, they are both tenacious of their rights—a national trait of great value,—and will shed a river of human blood to gain a very small point on paper. Like two great gamblers, they are opposed to the principle of give and take, standing steadfastly by thetake. Once they were father and son—thus, the inheritance may be pardoned; and when they quarrelled it was not to be expected the son would relinquish the traits so paternally bestowed. Now the parent is obstinate and the son 'cute; but the son has an eccentricity that prompts him to outwit. Not unfrequently the father lets the son—just for peace sake—have his own way; but this letting him have his own way has inclined his heart rather to the ungrateful than otherwise. His demands are at times somewhat funny, and when made known surprise a world. And now that they are so firmly and extensively identified with each other in pursuits of the noblest character, would it not be a sin to quarrel?' Thus spoke John, very complacently.
"As he got through, the negro produced some liquor, piping hot. To be good-natured, and keep cool, is one-half the battle; and to move those very desirable traits of our nature, we put a hot punch a-piece into the mentality of the inner man, smoked a couple of long nines, bowed compliments, and packed up our duds for the voyage. There was a great gathering where the balloon was blowing up; but Mr. John Littlejohn and me walked cordially down and took our seat, bundled in our traps, and sung out, 'Cut away the strings, and let her go!' I said I would steer for Uncle Sam, and John said he would steer for Mr. Bull; so, not feeling inclined to quarrel about the point, and knowing full well that the mother of constitutional governments (some facetiously called her the mother of constitutional incongruities) always liked to have the first trick at the wheel, we tossed coppers—after the fashion of good-natured diplomatists, when a large stake is at issue. 'John!' I enjoined, 'let us keep calm, and put the point to a test that never fails!' Here I gave him one of those pats on the shoulder so impressive, and pulled out a double-headed cent, like unto those so much in use in General Jackson's time, when shaving decapitated the deposits he found himself mounted on the back of a brass jackass. 'Here!' I continued—'Heads, I win; tails, you lose.' To come the sharp over him in a more square sort of way, I gave him an unmoved look straight in the eye, as I twirled up the copper.
"'I'll take the chance,' ejaculated John, and down came the other head. His countenance, you may be assured, wore a singular seriousness. The truth was, that John always had one strong idea in his head, and made a strong effort to keep that one straight, to the sacrifice of all the rest. Acting upon that axiom that so stimulated the wood-sawyer who expected to be President of the United States in a very few years, we cut away the fastenings, and having ascended high among the clouds, sailed from the mist heavenward to the blue arch above. Our position was not the most firm; but as Young America had the helm, and rather courted than feared danger, the result could not be doubted. Now and then Mr. John looked somewhat stern of countenance, and turned pale when I crowded the charcoal. 'Be careful, Smooth,' he lisped now and then, grasping my arm as he took a look below—'Be careful; you know what a go-ahead sort of lot you are. Your party would think nothing of going to the d——l, if it were only with steam power.' It was indeed a dangerous position for large men with small ideas; but as Young America was a small man with large ideas, the case became reversed. Well, we headed square for California, and proceeded at lightning speed, fast overtaking that old slow coach of refulgent light that has made sentimental the wild wisdom of the poet-world. Soon old Jacob's face loomed out upon its broad disc, looking as good-natured as a Dutchman over a pot of lager beer. My friend John seemed rather moody and dogged; however, we soon got within hailing-distance; and having provided myself with a speaking-trumpet—John having forgot his—I esteemed it good policy to, in a social way, have a small quantity of talk with Jacob, who, although a common sort of person, I felt assured must be well posted on matters and things concerning manifest destiny. We were running bow on, and at the moment I seized the trumpet for a blow, Jacob sung out—'Good morning!' just like a free and easy citizen, who had sense enough to be approached at any time without walling himself up in the dignity of that thing called a duke. His voice was like thunder, with reechoes for accents. 'Mind your helm!—you steer rather wild, there!' he spoke.
"'Old feller! don't get into a pucker; there's not a mite of danger,' I returned. 'Just hold up a little, and let us have a bit of a talk!'
"'Well, don't mind if I do,' good-naturedly returned the old man. So we hooked on to his establishment,—laid her aback in the wind, and, as the sailor would say, 'came to.'
"'Who are you, anyhow?' continued Jacob, getting up and shaking himself.
"'Well, I'm Young America (Jacob shook his head, doubtfully, at the name) and my friend here, is Cousin John, from across the water. We are going to take a view of state affairs around this little globe of ours, that we may report to General Pierce in particular.'
"'Then you're from the States down yonder?' rejoined the old man.
"'Just so!'
"'Ah,—go-ahead fellers down there, they are! But they've got to mind their moves just about this time.'
"'Seeing it's you, Jacob,—and knowing that you must be worn down with toil, s'pose we strike a trade in a small sort of way?' Jacob shook his head, and replied:
"'Like your folks for their masterly energies, but rather not trade.'
"'That won't do, old fellow: you must come out on the new principles of civilizations. Who knows that we may make an arrangement to annex your little establishment to these United States! Young America has, you see, yet to fulfil the functions of manifest destiny.'
"'Don't, pray don't, bring your Young America about my dominions!' he exclaimed, interrupting just as John Littlejohn was about to speak.
"John spoke, inquiring if his preferences were not for him? He knew old Jacob would like to annex his dominions to Great Britain, seeing that he carried out his annexation in a quiet sort of way. Jacob laughed right out—laughed irresistibly; laughed as if he meant it for something. 'To be honest with you, gentlemen, and I know you'll excuse me for being out-spoken,—I want nothing to do with either of you. You'll both steal territory; and as for you, Young America, take a word of honest advice—be contented with what has honestly fallen to you, covet not that which is thy neighbor's, but improve what thou hast of thine own. At the same time, take particular care how thou sail in this very lofty atmosphere. Your manifest destiny may fall into martyrdom.'
"'That's right good advice, Uncle,' said I, (interrupting him), but it would be better it did not smack so strong of that fogyism whose obstinate policy won't let the progress of those United States come out. Anyhow, Jacob, seeing that you have got such a nice stock of territory, dotted with fascinating hills and plains, upon which good speculations can be made in starting a speculation in churches, as has become the fashion, doing a little in the tin business, laying a few railroads, and building up factory villages, we must have a treaty of commerce—at all events!'
"'No! no! no! You've large inards, Jonathan; and your youngest son,—Young America,—has got such a pair of eyes! I'm afraid of him. No objection to joining in three cheers for Hail Columbia, almost any time; but save me from your claws. You're both great pirates: pray be merciful to your neighbors, and spare me my Independence. Your little place down there is become troubled with wars and rumours of wars;—the shedding of innocent blood in streams at the caprice of imbecile princes, who make the bones and blood of their subjects the waste material with which to serve their incarnate ambition, tells me to beware. Beware of ambitious princes; the world would be well rid of them!'
"'Like to hear you talk so, Uncle Jacob. Reckon how you've studied in a New England school! There the greatest power springs from the humble people. Anyhow, Jacob, since we can't strike a trade, nor do a thing or two in the way of speculation, s'pose we take a drop of whiskey punch?'
"'Can't object to that,' he returned.
"So, Littlejohn and me set about it, and in a very few minutes had a first-class punch brewed, of which old Jacob supped most lavishly. In fact, he liked it so well that I reckoned he had forgotten to stop drinking; and Littlejohn felt somewhat nervous lest the old fellow get fuddled and turn everything over. John reckoned I'd better give him a cold julep to wipe down with; but Jacob said he much preferred hot things, that his profession was quite cold enough. So, after we put the punches down, and smoked some cigars, and received some good advice about being careful how I proceeded, we loosened the strings and bid him good morning: it was coming faint daylight, and Jacob had to be jogging. Just as I was leaving, my heart felt kind a down-pressed to think what gorgeous territory he had spread out to a feller's eyes, without the slightest chance of making an operation for a small portion of it—say just enough to get a foothold.
"Westward we went with breathless speed, soon losing sight of Jacob and his luminary. 'You better reef down, Mr. Smooth. Should anything give way, and you tumble out and break your neck, the democracy would go into mourning,' said Littlejohn, who had kept very quiet up to this time.
"'Not a bit of it!' I answered, 'our democracy is like Parr's Life Pills, enervating and elasticating. You may break its head, but you cannot kill;—it belongs to the heart, and springs from the laws of right.' At this Littlejohn began to get dogged,—to shows signs of very bad nature. Knowing this was most unprofitable to him I yielded indulgence. To be good-natured in cases of Emergency is a most valuable trait; and to whip a man for being ill-tempered, when nothing can be made at it, is most absurd.
"The world outside of the United States is inclined to believe American democracy something next to infernal—that it must have everything it sees, and turns everything it comes in contact with into dollars, cents, and republicanism. To such it is a mysterious power, moved by chemical agency. As for Littlejohn, he thought that in addition to our speculative spirit we should be governed by modesty, an example of which his forefathers had set us. This he recommended on the principle of a gentleman who keeps up his dignity, gaining one half his object through the influence of his mien. Many said this was the precise material General Pierce was most deficient in; and that if the General would preserve more dignity and less bluster his administration had been marked with results more in keeping with the true character of the nation. Old Uncle John could brag stoutly; but Jonathan was a magnificent player at the same game. I realised this as Littlejohn took a long look over our wonderful West, and asked by what singular process of diplomacy we got to many fine states, so richly burdened with natural resources? He reckoned we must have come thesmartof our go-ahead principles over the French, Spanish and Mexicans, and then insinuated ourselves into their dominions. But, this being the smallest end of an Englishman's ideas whittled down to the very point of self-conceit, Smooth thought it best to be good-natured and make the best of his calmness. The fact is, John Bull and Cousin Jonathan must be good friends; strife is the dire enemy of good order, while war becomes the assassin seeking to overthrow those principles of constitutional liberty, both nations so wisely combined in their constitutions. Why tear down the noble edifice you cannot rebuild? why blight the cheering prospects of thousands to gratify the vain ambition of pedantic politicians?
"'Hallo! Smooth, my dear fellow, what place is this below?' cries out Littlejohn, looking over, as the balloon made a B line westward.
"'That,' I interrupted, 'used to be called the 'far West.' Now it is getting to be the centre of civilization. It goes ahead of the march of progress, while outstripping comprehension. Upon this great expanse will spring up the materials for feeding every hungry and oppressed citizen this side of sun-down. We can already raise anything,—from mountain of corn to a river of pork,—on it; and as for the nigger crop, there's no end of that!'
"'And that yours, too, Mr. Smooth? Your fertile acres stretch from sea to sea.' Little John interrupting, pointed all over the broad expanse below. He had no generalized ideas of America, no distinct estimate of her productive and maintaining powers, and less knowledge of that machinery so simply beautiful called her government. He never for once thought how this wide western expanse was destined for the back-bone of the mightiest republic the world ever knew. People without homes in the old world found happy homes there; civilization drove the buffalo from his wonted haunt to give place to man; man himself yielded to the power of progress marching westward. 'Now, Littlejohn.' said I, 'seeing that your people have but an imperfect geographical knowledge of our country, let me tell you that yon black ridge you see afar down is the range of rocky mountains. Colonel Fremont, a small man, slim enough to split the wind, but as tough as Uncle Seth's whip-stock, climbed the loftiest peak, hung his hat on it, made the stars and stripes on a rag—(in accordance with necessity and the go-ahead spirit of our country)—hung them flying in a snowstorm, whistled Yankee Doodle three times and proclaimed them ours in the name of the United States. All this was smooth and fair,—done in the spirit of our go-ahead, all-accomplished diplomacy.'
"'Ah!' interrupted Littlejohn, 'your appetite for bits of territory runs monstrously that way.'
"'Yes!' I replied; 'but, John, give us your hand-on that point we may honestly embrace, and declare ourselves now even two. You are as modest as an archbishop on salary day, and seldom openly embrace territory; we prefer the frank style in all our adoptions. Let us not quarrel over that—you love freedom, we love free government. Our political thoughts are moulded in one die, though self-interest may vary them. To be mutually just toward each other, to live on terms of friendship, and preserve that amity which is our bulwark, serves well that unity of great principles which conserves and preserves our happiness. Yea! cursed be the hand, and stagnate the breath raised against that peace and good-will which saves us from the monster of war.' Here I grasped firmly and earnestly John's hand, and would fain he forgot the past and thought only of the future. Looking down, 'that is New Mexico,' said I, 'a small corner we just hooked on to our large establishment; we let all these little ones come into the same nursery, where a generous mother watches their wants and provides for them as circumstances demand. You, John, treat your colonial babies with singularly cold diet; in fact, you often permit them to become stunted and ill-tempered for want of proper care in the home nursery. You see, Texas was well nursed, and now her territory is fast filling up with the hardy sons and daughters of your land; but, would they become new beings, and enjoy equal rights and equal privileges, they must divest themselves of those servilities which in your country one class unfortunately endeavors to enforce upon the other.' John bowed, but gave no further heed. Presently we came to the Mormon settlement, and here he set to chaffing me about equal privileges. 'We always had inconsistencies in our social system,' he said; 'just see how many wives these Mormons have got, and what a nice thing they are making of equal rights. You beat us there, Smooth; we Englishmen would never think of such sort of thing.' John looked very innocent and honest, which, added to his dignity so naturally put on, was enough to make one's face square up into a broad smile.