“Well, if you won’t go, what must I tell the old woman for you? for she’ll be mighty glad to hear from the boy that won the silk-handkerchief for her; and I expect she’ll lick me for not bringing you home with me.”
“Tell her,” said I, “that I send her a quarter of beef, which I won as I did the handkerchief, by nothing in the world but mere good luck.”
“Hold your jaw, Lyman,” said Billy; “I ain’t a gwine to tell the old woman any such lies; for she’s arael, reg’lar built Meth’dist.”
As I turned to depart—
“Stop a minute, stranger,” said one; then lowering his voice to a confidential, but strictly audible tone: “What are you offering for?” continued he.
I assured him I was not a candidate for anything—that I had accidentally fallen in with Billy Curlew, who begged me to come with him to the shooting-match; and as it lay right on my road, I had stopped.
“Oh,” said he, with a conciliatory nod, “if you’re up for anything, you needn’t be mealy-mouthed about it, ’fore us boys; for we’ll all go in for you here, up to the handle.”
“Yes,” said Billy, “dang old Roper, if we don’t go our deaths for you, no matter who offers. If ever you come out for anything, Lyman, just let the boys of Upper Hogthief know it, and they’ll go for you, to the hilt, against creation, tit or no tit, that’statur.”
I thanked him kindly, but repeated my assurances.
The reader will not suppose that the district took its name from the character of the inhabitants. In almost every county in the State, there is some spot or district which bears a contemptuous appellation, usually derived from local rivalship, or from a single accidental circumstance.
XVII.THE HORSE SWAP.
During the session of the Superior Court, in the village of ——, about three weeks ago, when a number of people were collected in the principal street of the village, I observed a young man riding up and down the street, as I supposed, in a violent passion. He galloped this way, then that, and then the other. Spurred his horse to one group of citizens, then to another. Then dashed off at half speed, as if fleeing from danger; and suddenly checking his horse, returned—first in a pace, then in a trot, and then in a canter. While he was performing these various evolutions, he cursed, swore, whooped, screamed, and tossed himself in every attitude which man could assume on horseback. In short, hecavortedmost magnanimously (a term which, in our tongue, expresses all that I have described, and a little more), and seemed to be setting all creation at defiance.
As I like to see all that is passing, I determined to take a position a little nearer to him, and to ascertain, if possible, what it was that affected him so sensibly. Accordingly, I approached a crowd before which he had stopped for a moment, and examined it with the strictest scrutiny. But I could see nothing in it that seemed to have anything to do with the cavorter. Every man appeared to be in a good humour, and all minding their own business. Not one so much as noticed the principal figure. Still he went on. After a semicolon pause, which my appearance seemed to produce—for he eyed me closely as I approached—he fetched a whoop, and swore that “he could out-swap any live man, woman or child, that ever walked these hills, or that ever straddled horse-flesh since the days of old daddy Adam.”
“Stranger,” said he to me, “did you ever see theYallow Blossomfrom Jasper?”
“No,” said I “but I have often heard of him.”
“I’m the boy,” continued he; “perhaps aleetle—jist aleetleof the best man, at a horse swap, that ever trod shoe-leather.”
I began to feel my situation a little awkward, when I was relieved by a man somewhat advanced in years, who stepped up and began to survey the “Yallow Blossom’s” horse with much apparent interest. This drew the rider’s attention, and he turned the conversation from me to the stranger.
“Well, my old ’coon,” said he, “do you want to swaphosses?”
“Why, I don’t know,” replied the stranger; “I believe I’ve got a beast I’d trade with you for that one, if you like him.”
“Well, fetch up your nag, my old cock; you’re jist the lark I wanted to get hold of. I am perhaps aleetle, jist aleetle, of the best man at a horse swap, that ever stolecracklinsout of his mammy’s fat-gourd. Where’s yourhoss?”
“I’ll bring him presently; but I want to examine your horse a little.”
“Oh! look at him,” said the Blossom, alighting and hitting him a cut, “look at him. He’s the best piece ofhossflesh in the thirteen united universal worlds. There’s no sort o’ mistake in little Bullet. He can pick up miles on his feet and fling ’em behind him as fast as the next man’shoss, I don’t care where he comes from. And he can keep at it as long as the sun can shine without resting.”
During this harangue, little Bullet looked as if he understood it all, believed it, and was ready at any moment to verify it. He was a horse of goodly countenance, rather expressive of vigilance than fire; though an unnatural appearance of fierceness was thrown into it, by the loss of his ears, which had been cropped pretty close to his head. Nature had done but little for Bullet’s head and neck; but he managed, in a great measure, to hide their defects, by bowing perpetually. He had obviously suffered severely for corn; but if his ribs and hip bones had not disclosed the fact,henever would have done it; for he was, in all respects, as cheerful and happy as if he commanded all the corn-cribs and fodder-stacks in Georgia. His height was about twelve hands; but as his shape partook somewhat of that of the giraffe, his haunches stood much lower. They were short, strait, peaked and concave. Bullet’s tail, however, made amends for all his defects. All that the artist could do to beautify it, had been done; and all that horse could do to compliment the artist, Bullet did. His tail was nicked in superior style, and exhibited the line of beauty in so many directions, that it could not fail to hit the most fastidious taste in some of them. From the root it dropped into a graceful festoon; then rose in a handsome curve; then resumed its first direction; and then mounted suddenly upwards like a cypress knee, to a perpendicular of about two and a half inches. The whole had a careless and bewitching inclination to the right.
Bullet obviously knew where his beauty lay, and took all occasions to display it to the best advantage. If a stick cracked, or if any one moved suddenly about him, or coughed, or hawked, or spoke a little louder than common, up went Bullet’s tail like lightning; and if thegoing updid not please, thecoming downmust of necessity, for it was as different from the other movement, as was its direction. The first, was a bold and rapid flight upward; usually to an angle of forty-five degrees. In this position he kept his interesting appendage, until he satisfied himself that nothing in particular was to be done; when he commenced dropping it by half inches, in second beats—then in tripple time—then faster and shorter, and faster and shorter still; until it finally died away imperceptibly into its natural position. If I might compare sights to sounds, I should say itssettlingwas more like the note of a locust than anything else in nature.
Either from native sprightliness of disposition, from uncontrollable activity, or from an unconquerable habit of removing flies by the stamping of the feet, Bullet never stood still; but always kept up a gentle fly-scaring movement of his limbs, which was peculiarly interesting.
“I tell you, man,” proceeded the Yellow Blossom, “he’s the best live hoss that ever trod the grit of Georgia. Bob Smart knows the hoss. Come here, Bob, and mount this hoss and show Bullet’s motions.”
Here, Bullet bristled up, and looked as if he had been hunting for Bob all day long, and had just found him. Bob sprang on his back.
“Boo-oo-oo!” said Bob, with a fluttering noise of the lips; and away went Bullet, as if in a quarter race, with all his beauties spread in handsome style.
“Now fetch him back,” said Blossom.
Bullet turned and came in pretty much as he went out.
“Now trot him by.”
Bullet reduced his tail to “customary”—sidled to the right and left airily, and exhibited at least three varieties of trot, in the short space of fifty yards.
“Make him pace!”
Bob commenced twitching the bridle and kicking at the same time. These inconsistent movements obviously (and most naturally) disconcerted Bullet; for it was impossible for him to learn, from them, whether he was to proceed or stand still. He started to trot—and was told that wouldn’t do. He attempted a canter—and was checked again. He stopt—and was urged to go on. Bullet now rushed into the wide field of experiment, and struck out a gait of his own, that completely turned the tables upon his rider, and certainly deserved a patent. It seemed to have derived its elements from the jig, the minuet, and the cotillon. If it was not a pace, it certainly hadpacein it; and no man would venture to call it any thing else; so it passed off to the satisfaction of the owner.
“Walk him!”
Bullet was now at home again; and he walked as if money was staked on him.
The stranger, whose name I afterwards learned was Peter Ketch, having examined Bullet to his heart’s content, ordered his son Neddy to go and bring up Kit. Neddy soon appeared upon Kit; a well-formed sorrel of the middle size, and in good order. Histout ensemblethrew Bullet entirely in the shade; though a glance was sufficient to satisfy any one, that Bullet had the decided advantage of him in point of intellect.
“Why man,” said Blossom, “do you bring such a hoss as that to trade for Bullet? Oh, I see you’re no notion of trading.”
“Ride him off, Neddy!” said Peter.
Kit put off at a handsome lope.
“Trot him back!”
Kit came in at a long, sweeping trot, and stopt suddenly at the crowd.
“Well,” said Blossom, “let me look at him; maybe he’ll do to plough.”
“Examine him!” said Peter, taking hold of the bridle close to the mouth. “He’s nothing but a tacky. He an’t asprettya horse as Bullet, I know; but he’ll do. Start ’em together for a hundred and fiftymile; and if Kit an’t twenty mile ahead of him at the coming out, any man may take Kit for nothing. But he’s a monstrous mean horse, gentlemen; any man may see that. He’s the scariest horse, too, you ever saw. He won’t do to hunt on, no how. Stranger, will you let Neddy have your rifle to shoot off him? Lay the rifle between his ears, Neddy, and shoot at the blaze in that stump. Tell me when his head is high enough.”
Ned fired, and hit the blaze: and Kit did not move a hair’s breadth.
“Neddy, take a couple of sticks and beat on that hogshead at Kit’s tail.”
Ned made a tremendous rattling; at which Bullet took fright, broke his bridle and dashed off in grand style; and would have stopt all farther negociations, by going home in disgust, had not a traveller arrested him and brought him back: but Kit did not move.
“I tell you, gentlemen,” continued Peter, “he’s the scariest horse you ever saw. He an’t as gentle as Bullet; but he won’t do any harm if you watch him. Shall I put him in a cart, gig, or wagon for you, stranger? He’ll cut the same capers there he does here. He’s a monstrous mean horse.”
During all this time, Blossom was examining him with the nicest scrutiny. Having examined his frame and limbs, he now looked at his eyes.
“He’s got a curious look out of his eyes,” said Blossom.
“Oh yes, Sir,” said Peter, “just as blind as a bat. Blind horses always have clear eyes. Make a motion at his eyes, if you please, Sir.”
Blossom did so, and Kit threw up his head rather as if something pricked him under the chin, than as if fearing a blow. Blossom repeated the experiment, and Kit jirked back with considerable astonishment.
“Stone blind, you see, gentlemen,” proceeded Peter; “but he’s just as good to travel of a dark night as if he had eyes.”
“Blame my buttons,” said Blossom, “if I like them eyes.”
“No,” said Peter, “nor I either. I’d rather have ’em made of diamonds; but they’ll do, if they don’t show as much white as Bullet’s.”
“Well,” said Blossom, “make a pass at me.”
“No,” said Peter; “you made the banter, now make your pass.”
“Well, I’m never afraid to price my hosses. You must give me twenty-five dollars boot.”
“Oh certainly; say fifty, and my saddle and bridle in. Here, Neddy, my son, take away daddy’s horse.”
“Well,” said Blossom, “I’ve made my pass, now you make yours.”
“I’m for short talk in a horse swap; and therefore always tell a gentleman, at once, what I mean to do. You must give me ten dollars.”
Blossom swore absolutely, roundly, and profanely, that he never would give boot.
“Well,” said Peter, “I didn’t care about trading; but you cut such high shines that I thought I’d like to back you out; and I’ve done it. Gentlemen, you see I’ve brought him to a hack.”
“Come, old man,” said Blossom, “I’ve been joking with you. I begin to think you do want to trade; therefore give me five dollars and take Bullet. I’d rather lose ten dollars, any time, than not make a trade; though I hate to fling away a good hoss.”
“Well,” said Peter, “I’ll be as clever as you are. Just put the five dollars on Bullet’s back and hand him over, it’s a trade.”
Blossom swore again, as roundly as before, that he would not give boot; and, said he:
“Bullet wouldn’t hold five dollars on his back no how. But as I bantered you, if you say an even swap, here’s at you.”
“I told you,” said Peter, “I’d be as clever as you; therefore, here goes two dollars more, just for trade sake. Give me three dollars, and it’s a bargain.”
Blossom repeated his former assertion; and here the parties stood for a long time, and the by-standers (for many were now collected,) began to taunt both parties. After some time, however, it was pretty unanimously decided that the old man had backed Blossom out.
At length Blossom swore he “never would be backed out, for three dollars, after bantering a man;” and accordingly they closed the trade.
“Now,” said Blossom, as he handed Peter the three dollars, “I’m a man, that when he makes a bad trade, makes the most of it until he can make a better. I’m for no rues and after-claps.”
“That’s just my way,” said Peter; “I never goes to law to mend my bargains.”
“Ah, you’re the kind of boy I love to trade with. Here’s your hoss, old man. Take the saddle and bridle off him, and I’ll strip yours; but lift up the blanket easy from Bullet’s back, for he’s a mighty tender-backed hoss.”
The old man removed the saddle, but the blanket stuck fast. He attempted to raise it, and Bullet bowed himself, switched his tail, danced a little, and gave signs of biting.
“Don’t hurt him, old man,” said Blossom archly; “take it off easy. I am, perhaps, a leetle of the best man at a horse-swap that ever catched a ’coon.”
Peter continued to pull at the blanket more and more roughly; and Bullet became more and morecavortish: in so much, that when the blanket came off, he had reached thekickingpoint in good earnest.
The removal of the blanket, disclosed a sore on Bullet’s back-bone, that seemed to have defied all medical skill. It measured six full inches in length, and four in breadth; and had as many features as Bullet had motions. My heart sickened at the sight; and I felt that the brute who had been riding him in that situation, deserved the halter.
The prevailing feeling, however, was that of mirth. The laugh became loud and general, at the old man’s expense; and rustic witticisms were liberally bestowed upon him and his late purchase. These, Blossom continued to provoke by various remarks. He asked the old man, “if he thought Bullet would let five dollars lie on his back.” He declared most seriously, that he had owned that horse three months, and had never discovered before that he had a sore back, “or he never should have thought of trading him,” &c. &c.
The old man bore it all with the most philosophic composure. He evinced no astonishment at his late discovery, and made no replies. But his son, Neddy, had not disciplined his feelings quite so well. His eyes opened wider and wider, from the first to the last pull of the blanket; and when the whole sore burst upon his view, astonishment and fright seemed to contend for the mastery of his countenance. As the blanket disappeared he stuck his hands in his breeches pockets, heaved a deep sigh, and lapsed into a profound reverie; from which he was only roused by the cuts at his father. He bore them as long as he could; and when he could contain himself no longer, he began with a certain wildness of expression, which gave a peculiar interest to what he uttered:
“His buck’s mighty bad off, but ded drot my soal if he’s put it to daddy as bad as he thinks he has, for old Kit’s both blind anddeef, I’ll be ded drot if he eint.”
“The devil he is,” said Blossom.
“Yes, ded drot my soal if heeint. You walk him and see if heeint. His eyes don’t look like it; but hejist as live go aginthe horse with you, or in a ditch, as anyhow. Now you go try him.”
The laugh was now turned on Blossom; and many rushed to test the fidelity of the little boy’s report. A few experiments established its truth, beyond controversy.
“Neddy,” said the old man, “you oughtn’t to try and make people discontented with their things. Stranger, don’t mind what the little boy says. If you can only get Kit rid of them little failings, you’ll find him all sorts of a horse. You are aleetlethe best man, at a horse swap, that ever I got hold of; but don’t fool away Kit. Come, Neddy, my son, let’s be moving; the stranger seems to be getting snappish.”
XVIII.THREE CHANCES FOR A WIFE.
When a man has three chances for a wife, it is, indeed, a hard mischance if he should fail. The following is one of those cases which might have occurred down east, but I am rather doubtful if a similar event was ever known in any other part of the world. But let me give the experience of the gentleman, who had three chances, in his own language:
“I once courted a gal by the name of Deb Hawkins. I made it up to get married. Well, while we was going up to the deacon’s, I stepped my foot into a mud puddle, and spattered the mud all over Deb Hawkins’ new gown, made out of her grandmother’s old chintz petticoat. Well when we got to the deacon’s, he asked Deb if she would take me for her lawful wedded husband?
“ ‘No,’ says she, ‘I shan’t do no such thing.’
“ ‘What on airth is the reason?’ says I.
“ ‘Why,’ says she, ‘I’ve taken a mislikin’ to you.’
“Well, it was all up with me then, but I give her a string of beads, a few kisses, some other notions, and made it all up with her; so we went up to the deacon’s a second time. I was determined to come up to her this time, so when the deacon asked me if I would take her for my lawfully wedded wife, says I:
“ ‘No, I shan’t do no such thing.’
“ ‘Why,’ says Deb, ‘what on airth is the matter?’
“ ‘Why,’ says I, ‘I have taken a mislikin’ to you now.’
“Well there it was all up again, but I gave her a new apron, and a few other little trinkets, and we went up again to get married. We expected then we would be tied so fast that all nature couldn’t separate us, and when we asked the deacon if he wouldn’t marry us he said:
“ ‘No, I shan’t dew any such thing.’
“ ‘Why, what on airth is the reason? says we.
“ ‘Why,’ says he, ‘I’ve taken a mislikin’ to both on you.’
“Deb burst out cryin’, the deacon burst out scoldin’, and I burst out laughin’, and sich a set of reg’lar busters you never did see.”
XIX.THE YANKEE AMONGST THE MERMAIDS.A YARN, BY A CAPE CODDER.
Do I b’leve in the sea-sarpint? You might as well ax me if I b’leved in the compass, or thought the log could lie. I’ve never seed the critter myself, cos I haint cruised in them waters as he locates himself in, not since I started on my first voyage in the ‘Confidence’ whaler, Captain Coffing; but I recking I’ve got a brother as hails from Nahant, that sees him handsome every year, and knows the latitude and longitude of the beast, just as well as I knows the length o’ the futtock shrouds o’ the foretops.
Didyouever see a marmaid? Waell, then, I reckon you’d best shut up, cosIhave, and many on ’em; and marmen too, and marmisses and marmasters, of all sizes, from babbies not bigger nor mackrels to regular six-feeters, with starns like a full-grow’d porpus. I’ve been at a marmaid’s tea-party, and after larnin’ the poor ignorant scaly critters how to splice the main-brace, I left the hull bilin’ on ’em blazin’ drunk.
You see, when our craft was cruisin’ up the Arches, we cast anchor one mornin’ in pretty deep water, just abrest of a small green island as wasn’t down in the chart, and hadn’t got no name, nyther. But our capting know’d what he was arter, abeout as right as ninepence, cos a small skewner came alongside pretty sune, freighted with brandy and wine for the officers, what they’d ordered for their own private stores. Waell, the slings was run up to the end o’ the main-yard, and the waisters were busy hoistin’ up the barrils, when a cask o’ brandy slipped from the slings as it was being canted round, and dropped right splash into the sea, sinkin’ right away. Upon ’zaminationing the manifest, it proved to be the best cask o’ brandy in the skewner, imported from Boardo direct for the capting himself.
“You etarnal lazy suckers,” said he; “look here! take all the boats’ anchors, lash ’em together in tews so as to form grapnels o’ four pints each, and drag all about here for that ar’ brandy—and mind you find it, or I’ll put every mother’s son of you on short allowance o’ rye for the next month.”
Waell, the boats was ordered out, and a gropin’ we went. I was placed in the jolly, with Sy Davis and Pete Slinks, and a middy to direct. The middy was a pretty considerable smart fellow, and jest as we was puttin’ off, he nodded up to the chaplin as was leanin’ over the side, and says:
“What say you to an hour’s float upon this here glassy sea?”
The parson was down by the man ropes in a minnit, and off we sot a fishin’ for the brandy tub.
The current run pretty slick by the side o’ the little island, and the second luff, who was in the cutter, ordered us to go a-head and watch along the shore jest to see if the tub warn’t rolled up there by the tide. We pretended to look right hard for the tub, till we made the lee o’ the island, and then if we didn’t resolve to take it easy and run the noose o’ the jolly into the yaller sand o’ the shore, there ain’t no snakes. I held on in the starn by the grapnel, and the parson pulled out of his pocket a good-sized sample bottle o’ the new stuff as he’d jest bought, and wanted the middy to taste—and arter passin’ their ideas on the licker, the chaplin gave us men a pretty stiff horn a piece, now I tell you—and first-rate it was, I swow. It iled the parson’s tongue like all out-doors—it took him to talk—all abeout the old original anteek names o’ the islands that laid in spots all about thar’—classic ground, as he called it, and a pretty yarn he did spin tew.
Then the middy, who’d been keepin’ dark and layin’ low all this time, show’d his broughtens-up, and let fly a hull broadside at the parson about them ar’ syringes and other fabblus wimming.
Waell, you see, all this here talk made us dry as thunder; so the chaplin said he guessed the sun was over the fore-yard, and baled us out another horn o’ licker all round. Then he took a “spell ho!” at the jawin’ tackle, and allowed there was a river in Jarminy, where all our Dutch imegrants hails from, and that a naked gall used to locate herself in a whirlpool, and come up on moonshiney nights and sing a hull bookful o’ songs, as turned the heads o’ all the young fellers in them parts. Waell, reports ruz up as she’d a hull cargo o’ gold stowed away at the bottom o’ the whirlpool, and many a wild young Jarman, seduced by the gall’s singin’ and hopes o’ gold, lept into the river, and warn’t heerd on never arter. These matters hurt the young gall’s kariter, and the old folks, who’d always allowed that she was a kind of goddess, began to think that she warn’t the clear grit, and the young fellers said her singin’ was no great shakes, and that her beauty warn’t the thing it was cracked up to be.
There was a famous general, who wasn’t raised in that section o’ the country, but had swapped a castle on a mountain in Spain for one o’ them ar’ water lots near the whirlpool; he began to find himself rayther short o’ cash to buy his groceries, and concluding that he couldn’t dew without a leetle whiskey to keep off the aguy, resolved to pay the whirlpool gall a visit, and jest see if he couldn’t soft soap the young critter out of a leetle rhino. Next full moon, he tortles to the bluff what hung over the bilin’ and foamin’ river, and jest at eight bells, up ruz the gall, stark naked, a sittin’ on the white froth o’ the whirlin’ water, and singin’, “Won’t you come to my bower what I’ve shaded for you?”
“Waell,” says the gineral, not a bit daunted—says he, “look here, my gall: I mean to eat a lobster salad with you to-night, if you promise to behave like a lady, and won’t cut up no shines.”
Waell, the gall give her word o’ honour, and the gineral dove into the whirlpool, and down they went right slick.
Next mornin’, the gineral was found to hum with a sighter old gold pieces, bigger round than the top of a backer-box, and a hull pot full o’ the tallest kind o’ jewels; you see, the sojer had carried a small flask of Monongahely in his pocket, and the river gall couldn’t git over the old rye—tew glasses opened her heart, I guess, and she let the gineral slip his cable in the mornin’ with just abeout as much gold as he could stow away.
Some o’ his friends kalkilated as he’d better drop his anchor thar’ agin—and there was some talk in the settlement of formin’ a jynt-stock company for the purpose o’ gettin’ up all the gold—but the gineral tell’d ’em he guessed he’d got enough for him, and he seed quite enough down thar’ not to want to go no more; and refusin’ to say what he had seen, or tell ’em how they was to go to work, it kinder stopped the jynt-stock company.
The river gall she fell quite in love with the gineral right up to the hub, and sot on the bilin’ water night arter night, singin’, “Meet me by moonlight alone;” but the gineral said he’d see her drowned first afore he trust her agin—for, says he, “No woman was never deceived twyst,” which riled the river gall like mad, and in revenge she sot the whirlpool a bilin’ like all creation, as if resolved to keep the neighbourhood in hot water. From the sarcumstance of the gineral’s gettin’ so much gold out o’ the river, the Jarmins called it the Rhino, and its been known by somethin’ like that name ever since.
When the chaplain had expended his yarn, he sarved out another allowance o’ licker. I recking that he was the raal grit for a parson—always doin’ as he’d be done by, and practisin’ a darned sight more than he preached. “ ’Taint Christian-like,” says he, “to drink by one’s self, and a raal tar never objects to share his grog with a shipmate.” Them’s gin-a-wine Bunker Hill sentiments, and kinder touch the bottom of a sailor’s heart!
The middy then uncoiled another length o’ cable abeout the fabbelus wimming o’ the sea, and said it were a tarnation pretty idea, that them angels from hevving as ruled the airth should keep watch over the treasures o’ the water. Then he telled a yarn consarnin’ the capting of a marchantman as was trading in the South Seas, layin’ at anchor, becalmed, one Sunday mornin’ abeout five bells, when a strange hail was heard from under the bows o’ the craft, and the hands on deck as answered the hail seed somebody in the water with jest his head and arms stickin’ out, and holdin’ on to the dolphing striker. Waell, I guess they pretty soon throw’d him a rope and hauled him aboard, and then they seed he was a regular built marman, one half kinder nigger, and tother half kinder fish, but altogether more kinder fish than kinder nigger. So, as I was tellin’ you, they got him aboard, and he made an enquerry arter the capting, who come out o’ his cabing, and the marman made him a first-rate dancin’-skeul bow, and says in ginnewine English:
“Capting, I sorter recking it ain’t entered into your kalkilation as this here is Sabber-day, for you’ve dropped your tarnal big anchor right in front o’ our meetin’-house door, and our folks can’t go to prayers.”
Waell, the capting was rayther taken aback, and the calm, you see, overlayin’ him in that thar’ hot latitude, had sot his back up above a bit; and besides that, he felt considerable streeked at bein’ roused out o’ his mornin’s nap for nothin’; so, altogether he felt sorter wolfish, and lookin’ at the strannger darned savagerous, says:
“Who in creation areyou?”
This here speech put the marman’s dander up, for he says right sassy:
“I guess I’m appinted deacon over all the marmans and marmaids in these here parts, and I’ll jest trouble you to treat me with the respect duetewa strannger and a gentleman.”
Waell, I recking the capting’s ebenezerwasroused, for he seized hold of a harpoon that was layin’ on the fowksell, and hollered to the marman:
“You fishy vaggybund, make tracks out o’ my ship, you sammony-tailed son of a sea-cook, or I’ll drive the grains slick through your scaly carkiss, I will.”
Waell, the critter seein’ as the capting meant dannger, made but one flop with his tail, and skeeted over the side o’ the ship into the water. The capting did not weigh anchor, nor nothin’, only during the night the cable was cut by the marmen, and the ship drifted on tew a korril reef, and rubbed a tarnal big hole in her plankin’.
“That’s a good yarn,” said the parson, “and I b’leve it’s true as gospel. Nothin’s impossible in natur, and the hull o’ these strange fixins as we hear tell on, is nothin’ more than links in the almighty great chain cable of universal natur’. Bats is the link o’ betweenity as connects the naturs o’ fowls o’ the air and the beasts o’ the field. Seals and alligators links the naturs o’ beasts and fishes. Babboons and apes links beasts with humans; and why should not marmaids be the links between humans and the fishes o’ the sea? But there’s the signal for the boat’s return; here’s jest a little horn a piece in the bottle—let’s licker one more round, and then absquattle.”
We pulled quietly back to the ship. The barrel of brandy had not been found, and I wish I may be sniggered if the capting did not fly into the biggest kind o’ quarter-deck passion I ever did see. He stormed great guns and fired hull broadsides at the boat’s crews, swearin’ that they should keep on dredgin’ till the tub was found, if it was the day arter eternity. So, you see, the hands was piped to dinner, but I was ordered tew keep in the boats and take care they didn’t stave each other.
Waell, I laid down in the capting’s gig, and what with the parson’s licker, and the talk abeout marmaids, and syringes, and water-galls, and one thing and t’other, a very pretty muss began mixin’ in my brain pan. So, as I was layin’ comfortably moored in the starn-sheets, with my head a leetle over the boats’ quarter, I thought it highly unwrong that the brandy tub hadn’t been fotched up, and that the men usin’ the grapnels must have shirked as we did, cos, if they’d sarched as they oughter, they must have seed the barrel, for the water was so petickler clear that you could dissarn the crabs crawlin’ over the korril rocks at the bottom o’ twenty fathom.
Waell, while I was lookin’ into the ocean to see if I could light upon the barrel, a leetle o’ the largest fish I ever did see come and swum right close to the bottom of the sea, jest under the boats. Then it kept risin’ and risin’, till I seed its long fins were shaped like men’s arms; and when it come near the sarfis, it turned on its back, and then I seed a human face! I know’d at once that it was a marmaid, or a marman, or one o’ them amfibberus critters called fabbelus syringes, as the chaplain had been spinnin’ his yarns abeout. So, the critter popt its head up jest above the water, which was smooth as glass, and a little smoother tew by a darned sight, and jest as clear and jest as shiny, and says he to me:
“Look here, strannger, you and your shipmates ain’t doin’ the genteel thing to me no how you can fix it, for they’re playing old hub with my garding grounds and oyster beds by scratchin’ and rakin’ ’em all over with them ar’ darned anchors and grapnel fixins, in a manner that’s harrowin’ to my feelins. If the capting wants his thundernation licker tub, let him just send eeny decent Christian down with me, and I’ll gin it him.”
Waell, I’m not goin’ to say that I didn’t feel kinder skeered, but the chaplain’s yarns had rubbed the rough edge off, and the notion o’ findin’ the capting’s cask pleased me mightily, cos I knowed it would tickle the old man like all creation, and sartingly get me three or four liberty days for shore goin’ when we returned to Port Mahon. So, as I hadn’t on nothin’ petikler as would spile, only a blue cotting shirt and sail-cloth pantys, and the weather bein’ most uncommon warm, I jest told the marman I was ready, and tortled quietly over the boat’s side into the blue transparent sea.
The marman grappled me by the fist, and we soon touched bottom, now I tell ye. I found as I could walk easy enough, only the water swayed me abeout jest as if I war a leetle tight, but I didn’t seem to suffer nothin’ from want o’ breath, nyther.
We soon reached whar’ the brandy-cask was lyin’ right under the ship’s keel, which accounts for its not bein’ seen nor nothin’ by the boats’ crews. I felt so everlastingly comical abeout findin’ the tub, that I told the half-bred dolphing fellow that pinted it out, that if I knowed how to tap it, I wish I might die if I wouldn’t give him a gallon o’ the stuff as a salvage fee.
“What’s in it?” says the marman.
“Why, licker,” says I.
“Waell,” says the marman, “so I heerd them scrapin’ fellers in the boats say; but I guess I’ve licker enough to last my time, tho’ I recking your licker is something stronger than salt water, seein’ that its hooped up in that almighty way.”
“Why, you lubber,” says I, “it’s brandy—the raal ginnewine coneyhack.”
“And what’s that?” says the marman.
“Why, dew tell—want to know?” says I; “have you lived to your time o’ life without tastin’ spirretus licker? Waell, I swow, you oughter be the commodore of all them cold water clubs, and perpetual president of all temp’rance teetotallers. Go ahead, matey; pilot the way to your shanty, and I’ll roll the barrel arter you. I’ll sune give you a drink o’ licker that will jest take the shirt-tail off eeny thing you ever did taste, now I tell you.”
Waell, the critter flopped ahead, for you see its the natur’ o’ the marmen, seein’ as they’ve no legs, only a fish’s tail what’s bent under them, jest like the lower part o’ the letter J, to make way by floppin’ their starns up and down, and paddlin’ with their hands—somethin’ between a swim and a swagger—but the way they get through the water is a caution. I rolled the tub along over the smooth white shiny sand, and the crabs and lobsters skeeted off right and left sides out o’ my way regular skeered, and big fishes of all shapes and makes, with bristlin’ fins, swum close alongside me, and looked at me quite awful with their small gooseberry eyes, as much as to say, “What the nationareyou at?”
Bymeby, the marman brought up in front of rayther a largeish cave or grotto of rock and shell work, kivered with korril and sea-weed. So, you see, the tub was put right on eend in one corner; I made an enquerry o’ the marman if he had a gimblet, and he said he b’leved there was such a thing in the hold or cellar; he’d found a carpenter’s tool-chest in a wreck a few miles to the easterd, and he fotched away six or seving of the leetle fixins, thinkin’ they might be useful to hum—so, he opened the back door and hailed a young marman to bring him the gimblet.
Seein’ as there was no benches nor nothin’ to sit down on, which marmen and marmaids don’t desire, cos they’ve no sittin’ parts to their bodies, which is all fish from their waistbands, I jest sot on the top o’ the brandy tub, and took an observation of the critter before me. His face was reglar human, only it looked rayther tawney and flabby like a biled nigger, with fishy eyes, and a mouth like a huge tom cod. His hair hung stret down his shoulders, and was coarse and thick, like untwisted rattlin’; his hands were somethin’ like a goose’s paw, only the fingers were longer and thicker; and his body was not exactly like an Injin’s nor a nigger’s, nor a white man’s—nor was it yaller, nor blue, nor green—but a sorter altogether kinder mixed up colour, lookin’ as if it were warranted to stand the weather. Jest abeout midships, his body was tucked into a fish’s belly, with huge green scales right down to the tail.
Whilst I was surveyin’ the marman fore and aft, the back door opened, and a she critter flopped in, with a young marman at the breast. The leetle sucker was not bigger than a pickerel, with a tail of a delicate sammon colour, and a head and body jest like one o’ them small tan monkeys, with a face as large as a dollar. The marman introduced the she critter as his wife, and we soon got into a coil of talk right slick, all abeout the weather, and the keare and trouble o’ a young family—and I wished I may be swamped if the marmaid warn’t a dreadful nice critter to chatter. Like all wimming folk, she was plaguey kewrous as to whar’ I was raised and rigged—and when I said I guess I hailed from Cape Cod, and all along shore thar’, she looked at the marman, and said to me:
“Waell, I never—Cape Cod! why, strannger, I guess there must be some finnity in our breeds.”
Waell, you see, I grew rayther kewrous tew, and wanted to log the petiklers o’ the nateral history o’ the race o’ marmen—so I made a few enquerries respectin’ their ways o’ life.
“I guess,” says I, “you’ve a tarnal good fish market in these here parts, and keep your table well supplied with hallibut and sea-bass, and black-fish, eh?”
“Why, strannger,” says the marman, rayther wrathy, “seein’ its you I won’t be offended, or, by hevving, if that speech ain’t enough to make a marman feel scaly, why then it ain’t no matter. We claim to be half fish in our natur’, and I reckon you don’t kalkilate we gobbles our relations? there’s sea varmint enough in all conscience, sitch as oysters, and clams, and quahogs, and muscles, and crabs, and lobsters. We go the hull shoat with them; and then we cultivates kail and other sea truck in our gardings, and sometimes we swims under the wild fowl as they’re floatin’, and jerks down a fine duck or a gull, or gathers their eggs off the rocks, or the barnacles off drift wood.”
Jest then, the marman’s eldest son-fish fotched in the gimblet, and brought up the marman’s jawin’ tacks with a round turn. The young un was about the size of an Injin boy jest afore he runs alone—half papoose, half porpus. He got a leetle skeered when he clapt eyes on me, but I gave him a stale quid o’ backer to amuse himself, and the sugar plum made the marmaster roll his eyes above a bit, now I tell you.
Waell, I bored a hole in the brandy tub, and pickin’ up an empty clam-shell, handed a drink to the lady, and told her to tote it down. She swaller’d it pretty slick, and the way she gulped afterwards, and stared, and twisted her fishy mouth, was a sin to Davy Crockett. The marman looked rayther wolfy at me, as if I’d gin her pison; so I drawed a shell-fall and swallered it myself. This kinder cooled him down, and when the marmaid got her tongue tackle in runnin’ order agin, she said she guessed the licker was the juice of hevving, and she’d be darned if she wouldn’t have another drink right off the reel.
Seein’ this, the marman swallered his dose, and no sooner got it down than he squealed right out, and clapped his webby hands together, and wagged his tail like all creation. He swore it was elegant stuff, and he felt it tickle powerful from the top of his head to the eend of his starn-fin. Arter takin’ two or three horns together, the sonny cried for a drink, and I gin him one that sent him wrigglin’ on the sand like an eel in an uneasiness. So, the marman said as the licker was raal first-rate, and first-rater than that tew, he guessed he’d ask in his next door neighbour and his lady, jest to taste the godsend. Waell, in a minnit, in comes a huge marman of the most almighty size, looking jest like Black Hawk when he was bilious; he fotched up his lady with him, and his eldest son, a scraggy hobbadehoy marman, and his darters, two young marmaids or marmisses, jest goin’ out o’ their teens, who flapped their yaller-skinned paws over their punking-coloured chops, pretendin’ to be almighty skeered at comin’ afore a strannge man in a state o’ natur’—but they forgot all abeout that thar’ when the licker was handed to them.
Arter takin’ a few smallers, the fresh marman said he guessed the clam-shell was altogether tew leetle to get a proper amount of licker whereby a feller could judge correctly of the raal taste o’ the stuff—so he went to his berth in the next cave, and fotched a large blue and silver shell that held abeout a pint.
The news o’ the brandy-tub spred pretty slick, for in half an hour, I’d the hull grist o’ the marmen belongin’ to that settlement cooped up in the cavern. Sitch a noisy swillin’ set o’ wet souls I never did see; the drunk com’ on em almighty strong, for they kept me sarvin’ out the licker jest as quick as it would run. I thought if the capting could have seen me astridin’ his brandy-cask, in an underground grocery at the bottom o’ the sea, surrounded by sich a skeul of odd fish, how many dozen at the gangway would he have ordered the bosen’s mate to have sarved me out?
The way the drunk affected the different critters was right kewrous, now I tell you. One great scaly feller stiffened his tail all up, and stood poppindickler erect on the peaked pints of the eend fin, like a jury-mast, and jawed away raal dignified at all the rest, wantin’ them to appoint him a sort o’ admiral over the hull crew. Another yeller feller, with a green tail, was so dreadful blue, that he doubled himself into a figgery 5, and sung scraps and bits o’ all sorts o’ sea songs, till he got tew drunk to speak at all. Some o’ the marmen wanted to kiss all the marmaids, and tew o’ the ladies begun scratchin’ and fightin’ like two pusseys, cos one trod on t’other’s tail. Some went floppin’ and dancin’ on the sand like mad, raisin’ sitch a dust that I could not see to draw the licker—but the party round the tub soon druv’ them to the right abeout, as interferin’ with the interest o’ the settlement. Every minnit some fresh marman dropped on the ground with the biggest kind of load on; I never seed a set o’ critters so almighty tight, yellin’, swearin’, huggin’, and fightin’, till they growed so darned savagerous that I kinder feared for my own safety amongst them drunken moffradite sea aborgoines. So, you see, I up and told them that I’d clapt my veto on the licker, and that they should not have any more.
Waell, if ever you did hear a most etarnal row, or see a hull raft o’ drunken fellers cut didoes, thenwasthe time. It was voted that I were a public enemy, and every half-drunken marman suddenly become very ’fishus to have me lynched, and it were settled at last that I were to be rode on a rail, and then tarred and feathered. But, while some o’ the varmint went arter the rail and the tar, the rest o’ the critters begun quarrelin’ who was to sarve out the licker; and as each marman, drunk or sober, wanted to have the keare o’ the precious stuff, they soon raised a pretty muss, and kept on tearin’ at each other like a pack o’ wolves. Seein’ this, I jest kinder sneaked quietly away from the cave grocery till I com’ in sight o’ the ship, when I struck upperd for the sarfis, and swum for dear life. I soon seed that the boats’ crew were musterin’ for another bout o’ draggin’ for the brandy-cask; so, fearin’ least the capting should miss me, I jest laid hold o’ the edge o’ the gig, and crawled in pretty quickly, and laid myself down in the starn-sheets, as if I’d never been out o’ the boat.
I hadn’t laid thar’ half a second, when I heerd a noise jest for all the world as if somebody was squeezin’ a small thundercloud right over my head. I ruz up, and thar’ were the capting and the hull crew lookin’ over the ship’s side at me—the officers in a tarnal rage, and the men grinnin’ like so many hyenas.
“Rouse up, you long-sided lazy swab, and bring the boats in from the boom. Are you goin’ to sleep all day?”
“Ay, ay, Sir,” said I, jumpin’ up in the boat, when all the water run off me like forty thousand mill-streams—I’d been so outrageous soaked while down with the marmen. I felt kinder skeered lest the capting should see it, but when I stood up he laughed right out, and so did the hull crew tew.
“Why, he’s not awake yet,” said the capting. “Bosen, give him another bucket.”
You see they wanted to persuade me that I’d fell asleep in the gig, as fast as a meetin’-house, and slept thar’ the hull while the crew were at dinner, and that no shoutin’ nor nothin’ couldn’t wake me up—so, the bosen run along the boom and jest give me a couple o’ buckets o’ sea-water right over me. When I told ’em my yarn abeout the marman poppin’ up his head, and invitin’ me down, and all abeout findin’ the brandy-tub and the rest, they swore that I’d got drunk on the parson’s licker, and dreamt it all in the boat. But I guess I know what I did see, jest abeout as slick as anybody; and the chaplain b’lieved the hull story; and said that as I’d learnt the marmen the valley o’ licker, they’d get huntin’ up all the tubs and barrels out of the different wrecks in all the various seas; and that intemperance would spile the race, and thin ’em off till they became one o’ the things that was—jest like the Injins what’s wastin’ away by the power o’ rum and whiskey given ’em by the white men.
I recking the parson warn’t far out in his kalkilashing. The love o’ licker has had its effect upon the marmen and the marmaids; they must have thinned off surprisin’ly, for I ain’t seed none since, nor I don’t know nobody that has nyther.