The Attaché; or Sam Slick in England — Volume 02, Page 2

  CHAPTER II. THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL.

  Nothing is so fatiguing as sight-seeing. The number and variety ofobjects to which your attention is called, and the rapid succession inwhich they pass in review, at once wearies and perplexes the mind; andunless you take notes to refresh your memory, you are apt to find youcarry away with you but an imperfect and indistinct recollection.

  Yesterday was devoted to an inspection of the Tunnel and anexamination of the Tower, two things that ought always to be viewedin juxta-position; one being the greatest evidence of the science andwealth of modern times; and the other of the power and pomp of ourforefathers.

  It is a long time before a stranger can fully appreciate the extentof population and wealth of this vast metropolis. At first, he isastonished and confused; his vision is indistinct. By degrees he beginsto understand its localities, the ground plan becomes intelligible andhe can take it all in at a view. The map is a large one; it is a chartof the world. He knows the capes and the bays; he has sailed round them,and knows their relative distance, and at last becomes aware of themagnitude of the whole. Object after object becomes more familiar. Hecan estimate the population; he compares the amount of it with thatof countries that he is acquainted with, and finds that this one towncontains within it nearly as great a number of souls as all BritishNorth America. He estimates the incomes of the inhabitants, and findsfigures almost inadequate to express the amount. He asks for thesources from whence it is derived. He resorts to his maxims of politicaleconomy, and they cannot inform him. He calculates the number of acresof land in England, adds up the rental, and is again at fault. Heinquires into the statistics of the Exchange, and discovers that eventhat is inadequate; and, as a last resource, concludes that the wholeworld is tributary to this Queen of Cities. It is the heart of theUniverse. All the circulation centres here, and hence are derived allthose streams that give life and strength to the extremities. How vast,how populous, how rich, how well regulated, how well supplied, howclean, how well ventilated, how healthy!--what a splendid city! Howworthy of such an empire and such a people!

  What is the result of his experience? _It is, that there is no suchcountry in the world as England, and no such place in England as London;that London is better than any other town in winter, and quite as goodas any other place in summer; that containing not only all that herequires, but all that he can wish, in the greatest perfection, hedesires never to leave it._

  Local description, however, is not my object; I shall therefore, returnto my narrative.

  Our examination of the Tower and the Tunnel occupied the whole day, andthough much gratified, we were no less fatigued. On returning to ourlodgings, I found letters from Nova Scotia. Among others, was onefrom the widow of an old friend, enclosing a memorial to theCommander-in-Chief, setting forth the important and gratuitous servicesof her late husband to the local government of the province, andsoliciting for her son some small situation in the ordnance department,which had just fallen vacant at Halifax. I knew that it was not onlyout of my power to aid her, but that it was impossible for her, howeverstrong the claims of her husband might be, to obtain her request. Thesethings are required for friends and dependants in England; and in therace of competition, what chance of success has a colonist?

  I made up my mind at once to forward her memorial as requested, butpondered on the propriety of adding to it a recommendation. It could dono good. At most, it would only be the certificate of an unknown man; ofone who had neither of the two great qualifications, namely, county orparliamentary interest, but it might do harm. It might, by engenderingridicule from the insolence of office, weaken a claim, otherwise wellfounded. "Who the devil is this Mr. Thomas Poker, that recommends theprayer of the petition? The fellow imagines all the world must haveheard of him. A droll fellow that, I take it from his name: but allcolonists are queer fellows, eh?"

  "Bad news from home?" said Mr. Slick, who had noticed my abstraction."No screw loose there, I hope. You don't look as if you liked theflavour of that ere nut you are crackin' of. Whose dead? and what is topay now?"

  I read the letter and the memorial, and then explained from my ownknowledge how numerous and how valuable were the services of mydeceased friend, and expressed my regret at not being able to serve thememorialist.

  "Poor woman!" said Mr. Hopewell, "I pity her. A colonist has no chancefor these things; they have no patron. In this country merit will alwaysobtain a patron--in the provinces never. The English are a noble-minded,generous people, and whoever here deserves encouragement or reward,is certain to obtain either or both: but it must be a brilliant man,indeed, whose light can be perceived across the Atlantic."

  "I entertain, Sir," I said, "a very strong prejudice against relyingon patrons. Dr. Johnson, after a long and fruitless attendance on LordChesterfield, says: 'Seven years, my Lord, have now past, since I waitedin your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which timeI have been pushing on my work, through difficulties, of which itis useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge ofpublication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement,or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never bada patron before."

  "Ah!" said Mr. Hopewell, "a man who feels that he is wrong, is alwaysangry with somebody else. Dr. Johnson, is not so much to be admiredfor the independence that dictated that letter, as condemned for themeanness and servility of seven years of voluntary degradation. It is nowonder he spoke with bitterness; for, while he censured his Lordship,he must have despised himself. There is a great difference between aliterary and a political patron. The former is not needed, and a mandoes better without one; the latter is essential. A good book, likegood wine, needs no bush; but to get an office, you want merits orpatrons;--merits so great, that they cannot be passed over, or friendsso powerful, they cannot be refused."

  "Oh! you can't do nothin', Squire," said Mr. Sick, "send it back to OldMarm; tell her you have the misfortin to be a colonist; that if her sonwould like to be a constable, or a Hogreave, or a thistle-viewer, orsunthin' or another of that kind, you are her man: but she has got thewrong cow by the tail this time. I never hear of a patron, I don't thinkof a frolic I once had with a cow's tail; and, by hanging on to it likea snappin' turtle, I jist saved my life, that's a fact.

  "Tell you what it is, Squire, take a fool's advice, for once. Here youare; I have made you considerable well-known, that's a fact; and willintroduce you to court, to king and queen, or any body you please. Forour legation, though they can't dance, p'raps, as well as the French onecan, could set all Europe a dancin' in wide awake airnest, if it chose.They darsent refuse us nothin', or we would fust embargo, and then goto war. Any one you want to know, I'll give you the ticket. Look round,select a good critter, and hold on to the tail, for dear life, and seeif you hante a patron, worth havin'. You don't want none yourself, butyou might want one some time or another, for them that's a comin' arteryou.

  "When I was a half grow'd lad, the bears came down from Nor-West oneyear in droves, as a body might say, and our woods near Slickville wasjist full of 'em. It warn't safe to go a-wanderin' about there a-doin'of nothin', I tell _you_. Well, one arternoon, father sends me into theback pastur', to bring home the cows, 'And,' says he, 'keep a stirrin',Sam, go ahead right away, and be out of the bushes afore sun-set, onaccount of the bears, for that's about the varmints' supper-time.'

  "Well, I looks to the sky, and I sees it was a considerable of a pieceyet to daylight down, so I begins to pick strawberries as I goes along,and you never see any thing so thick as they were, and whereverthe grass was long, they'd stand up like a little bush, and hang inclusters, most as big and twice as good, to my likin', as garden ones.Well, the sun, it appears to me, is like a hoss, when it comes near darkit mends its pace, and gets on like smoke, so afore I know'd where Iwas, twilight had come peepin' over the spruce tops.

  "Off I sot, hot foot, into the bushes, arter the cows, and as alwayseventuates when you are in a hurry, they was further ba
ck than commonthat time, away ever so fur back to a brook, clean off to the rear ofthe farm, so that day was gone afore I got out of the woods, and I gotproper frightened. Every noise I heerd I thought it was a bear, and whenI looked round a one side, I guessed I heerd one on the other, and Ihardly turned to look there before, I reckoned it was behind me, I wase'en a'most skeered to death.

  "Thinks I, 'I shall never be able to keep up to the cows if a bear comesarter 'em and chases 'em, and if I fall astarn, he'll just snap up aplump little corn fed feller like me in less than half no time. Cryin','says I, 'though, will do no good. You must be up and doin', Sam, or it'sgone goose with you.'

  "So a thought struck me. Father had always been a-talkin' to me aboutthe leadin' men, and makin' acquaintance with the political big bugswhen I growed up and havin' a patron, and so on. Thinks I, I'll takethe leadin' cow for my patron. So I jist goes and cuts a long tough ashsaplin, and takes the little limbs off of it, and then walks along sideof Mooley, as meachin' as you please, so she mightn't suspect nothin',and then grabs right hold of her tail, and yelled and screamed like mad,and wallopped away at her like any thing.

  "Well, the way she cut dirt was cautionary; she cleared stumps, ditches,windfalls and every thing, and made a straight track of it for home asthe crow flies. Oh, she was a dipper: she fairly flow again, and if evershe flagged, I laid it into her with the ash saplin, and away we startedagin, as if Old Nick himself was arter us.

  "But afore I reached home, the rest of the cows came a bellowin', and aroarin' and a-racin' like mad arter us, and gained on us too, so as mostto overtake us, jist as I come to the bars of the cow yard, over wentMooler, like a fox, brought me whap up agin 'em, which knocked all thewind out of my lungs and the fire out of my eyes, and laid me sprawlinon the ground, and every one of the flock went right slap over me, allbut one--poor Brindle. She never came home agin. Bear nabbed her, andtore her most ridiculous. He eat what he wanted, which was no trifle, Ican tell you, and left the rest till next time.

  "Don't talk to me, Squire, about merits. We all want a lift in thisworld; sunthin' or another to lay hold on, to help us along--_we wantthe cow's tail_.

  "Tell your friend, the female widder, she has got hold of the wrong cowby the tail in gettin' hold of you, for you are nothin' but a despisablecolonist; but to look out for some patron here, some leadin' man, orgreat lord, to clinch fast hold of him, and stick to him like a leach,and if he flags, (for patrons, like old Mooley, get tired sometimes), torecollect the ash saplin, to lay into him well, and keep him at it, andno fear but he'll carry her through. He'll fetch her home safe at last,and no mistake, depend on it, Squire. The best lesson that little boycould be taught, is, that of _the Patron, or the Cows Tail_."