The Clockmaker

T >> Thomas Chandler Haliburton >> The Clockmaker

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"Jist come to say good-bye, Mrs. Flint."

"What, have you sold all your clocks?"

"Yes, and very low too, for money is scarce, and I wished to close
the consarn; no, I am wrong in saying all, for I have just one left.
Neighbour Steel's wife asked to have the refusal of it, but I guess I
won't sell it; I had but two of them, this one and the feller of it,
that I sold Governor Lincoln. General Green, the Secretary of State
for Maine, said he'd give me forty dollars for this here one--it has
composition wheels and patent axles, it is a beautiful article, a
real first chop, no mistake, genuine superfine--but I guess I'll take
it back; and beside, Squire Hawk might think kinder hard, that I did
not give him the offer."

"Dear me," said Mrs. Flint, "I should like to see it, where is it?"

"It is in a chest of mine over the way, at Tom Tape's store, I guess
he can ship it on to Eastport."

"That's a good man," said Mrs. Flint, "jist let's look at it."

Mr. Slick, willing to oblige, yielded to these entreaties, and soon
produced the clock--a gawdy, highly varnished, trumpery looking
affair. He placed it on the chimney-piece, where its beauties were
pointed out and duly appreciated by Mrs. Flint, whose admiration was
about ending in a proposal when Mr. Flint returned from giving his
directions about the care of the horses. The Deacon praised the
clock, he too thought it a handsome one; but the Deacon was a prudent
man, he had a watch, he was sorry, but he had no occasion for a
clock.

"I guess you're in the wrong furrow this time, Deacon, it ain't for
sale," said Mr. Slick; "and if it was, I reckon neighbour Steel's
wife would have it, for she gives me no peace about it." Mrs. Flint
said that Mr. Steel had enough to do, poor man, to pay his
interest, without buying clocks for his wife.

"It's no consarn of mine," said Mr. Slick, "as long as he pays me,
what he has to do; but I guess I don't want to sell it, and beside it
comes too high; that clock can't be made at Rhode Island under forty
dollars. Why it ain't possible," said the Clockmaker, in apparent
surprise, looking at his watch, "why as I'm alive it is four o'clock,
and if I havn't been two hours here--how on airth shall I reach River
Philip tonight? I'll tell you what, Mrs. Flint, I'll leave the clock
in your care till I return on my way to the States--I'll set it
a-goin' and put it to the right time."

As soon as this operation was performed, he delivered the key to the
deacon with a sort of serio-comic injunction to wind up the clock
every Saturday night, which Mrs. Flint said she would take care
should be done, and promised to remind her husband of it, in case he
should chance to forget it.

"That," said the Clockmaker as soon as we were mounted, "that I call
'HUMAN NATUR'!' Now that clock is sold for forty dollars--it cost me
just six dollars and fifty cents. Mrs. Flint will never let Mrs.
Steel have the refusal--nor will the deacon learn until I call for
the clock, that having once indulged in the use of a superfluity, how
difficult it is to give it up. We can do without any article of
luxury we have never had, but when once obtained, it is not in 'HUMAN
NATUR'' to surrender it voluntarily. Of fifteen thousand sold by
myself and partners in this Province, twelve thousand were left in
this manner, and only ten clocks were ever returned; when we called
for them they invariably bought them. We trust to 'SOFT SAWDER' to
get them into the house, and to 'HUMAN NATUR'' that they never come
out of it."

No. III

The Silent Girls.

"Do you see them 'ere swallows," said the Clockmaker, "how low they
fly? Well I presume we shall have rain right away; and them noisy
critters, them gulls how close they keep to the water, down there in
the Shubenacadie; well that's a sure sign. If we study natur', we
don't want no thermometer. But I guess we shall be in time to get
under cover in a shingle-maker's shed about three miles ahead on us.
We had just reached the deserted hovel when the rain fell in torrents.

"I reckon," said the Clockmaker, as he sat himself down on a bundle
of shingles, "I reckon they are bad off for inns in this country.
When a feller is too lazy to work here, he paints his name over his
door, and calls it a tavern, and as like as not he makes the whole
neighbourhood as lazy as himself--it is about as easy to find a good
inn in Halifax, as it is to find wool on a goat's back. An inn, to be
a good consarn, must be built a purpose, you can no more make a good
tavern out of a common dwelling house, I expect, than a good coat
out of an old pair of trousers. They are etarnal lazy, you may
depend--now there might be a grand spec made there, in building a
good inn and a good church."

"What a sacrilegious and unnatural union," said I, with most
unaffected surprise.

"Not at all," said Mr. Slick; "we build both on speculation in the
States, and make a good deal of profit out of 'em too, I tell you. We
look out a good sightly place, in a town like Halifax, that is pretty
considerably well peopled, with folks that are good marks; and if
there is no real right down good preacher among them, we build a
handsome Church, touched off like a New York liner, a real taking
looking thing--and then we look out for a preacher, a crack man, a
regular ten horse power chap--well, we hire him, and we have to give
pretty high wages too, say twelve hundred or sixteen hundred dollars
a year. We take him at first on trial for a Sabbath or two, to try
his paces, and if he takes with the folks, if he goes down well, we
clinch the bargain, and let and sell the pews; and, I tell you it
pays well and makes a real good investment. There were few better
specs among us than inns and churches, until the railroads came on
the carpet; as soon as the novelty of the new preacher wears off, we
hire another, and that keeps up the steam."

"I trust it will be long, very long, my friend," said I, "ere the
rage for speculation introduces 'the money-changers into the temple,'
with us."

Mr. Slick looked at me with a most ineffable expression of pity and
surprise. "Depend on it, sir," said he, with a most philosophical
air, "this Province is much behind the intelligence of the age. But
if it is behind us in that respect, it is a long chalk ahead on us in
others. I never seed or heerd tell of a country that had so many
natural privileges as this. Why, there are twice as many harbours and
water-powers here, as we have all the way from Eastport to New
OrLEENS. They have all they can ax, and more than they desarve. They
have iron, coal, slate, grindstone, lime, firestone, gypsum,
free-stone, and a list as long as an auctioneer's catalogue. But they
are either asleep, or stone blind to them. Their shores are crowded
with fish, and their lands covered with wood. A government that lays
as light on 'em as a down counterp'in, and no taxes. Then look at
their dykes. The Lord seems to have made 'em on purpose for such lazy
folks. If you were to tell the citizens of our country that these
dykes had been cropped for a hundred years without manure, they'd
say, they guessed you had seen Col. Crockett, the greatest hand at a
flam in our nation. You have heerd tell of a man who couldn't see
London for the houses? I tell you, if we had this country, you
couldn't see the harbours for the shipping. There'd be a rush of
folks to it, as there is in one of our inns, to the dinner table,
when they sometimes get jammed together in the door-way, and a man
has to take a running leap over their heads, afore he can get in. A
little nigger boy in New York found a diamond worth two thousand
dollars; well, he sold it to a watchmaker for fifty cents--the little
critter didn't know no better. Your people are just like the nigger
boy--they don't know the value of their diamond.

"Do you know the reason monkeys are no good? because they chatter all
day long; so do the niggers, and so do the Bluenoses of Nova Scotia;
it's all talk and no work. Now, with us it's all work and no talk; in
our ship yards, our factories, our mills, and even in our vessels,
there's no talk; a man can't work and talk too. I guess if you were
at the factories at Lowell we'd show you a wonder--five hundred gals
at work together, all in silence. I don't think our great country
has such a real natural curiosity as that--I expect the world don't
contain the beat of that; for a woman's tongue goes so slick of
itself, without water power or steam, and moves so easy on its
hinges, that it's no easy matter to put a spring stop on it, I tell
you--it comes as natural as drinkin' mint julip.

"I don't pretend to say the gals don't nullify the rule, sometimes at
intermission and arter hours, but when they do, if they don't let go,
then it's a pity. You have heerd a school come out, of little boys?
Lord, it's no touch to it. Or a flock of geese at it? They are no more
a match for 'em than a pony is for a coach-horse. But when they are
at work, all's as still as sleep and no snoring. I guess we have a
right to brag o' that invention--we trained the dear critters, so
they don't think of striking the minutes and seconds no longer.

"Now the folks of Halifax take it all out in talking. They talk of
steamboats, whalers and railroads; but they all end where they
begin--in talk. I don't think I'd be out in my latitude if I was to
say they beat the womenkind at that. One feller says, 'I talk of
going to England;' another says, 'I talk of going to the country;'
while a third says, 'I talk of going to sleep.' If we happen to speak
of such things, we say, 'I'm right off down East;' or 'I'm away off
South,' and away we go, jist like a streak of lightning.

"When we want folks to talk, we pay 'em for it, such as ministers,
lawyers, and members of Congress; but then we expect the use of their
tongues, and not their hands; and when we pay folks to work, we
expect the use of their hands, and not their tongues. I guess work
don't come kind o' natural to the people of this Province, no more
than it does to a full-bred horse. I expect they think they have a
little too much blood in 'em for work, for they are near about as
proud as they are lazy.

"Now the bees know how to sarve out such chaps, for they have their
drones too. Well they reckon it's no fun, a-makin' honey all summer,
for these idle critters to eat all winter, so they give 'em Lynch
Law. They have a regular built mob of citizens, and string up the
drones like the Vicksburg gamblers. Their maxim is, and not a bad one
neither I guess, 'no work, no honey.'"

No. IV

Conversations at the River Philip.

It was late before we arrived at Pugnose's inn--the evening was cool,
and a fire was cheering and comfortable. Mr. Slick declined any share
in the bottle of wine, he said he was dyspeptic; and a glass or two
soon convinced me that it was likely to produce in me something worse
than dyspepsy. It was speedily removed and we drew up to the fire.
Taking a small penknife from his pocket, he began to whittle a thin
piece of dry wood, which lay on the hearth; and, after musing some
time said--

"I guess you've never been in the States?"

I replied that I had not, but that before I returned to England I
proposed visiting that country.

"There," said he, "you'll see the great Daniel Webster; he's a great
man, I tell you; King William, number four, I guess, would be no
match for him as an orator--he'd talk him out of sight in half an
hour. If he was in your house of Commons, I reckon he'd make some
of your great folks look pretty streaked--he's a true patriot and
statesman, the first in our country, and a most particular cute
lawyer. There was a Quaker chap too cute for him once though. This
Quaker, a pretty knowin' old shaver, had a cause down to Rhode
Island; so he went to Daniel to hire him to go down and plead his
case for him; so says he, 'Lawyer Webster what's your fee?' 'Why,'
says Daniel, 'let me see, I have to go down south to Washington, to
plead the great Insurance case of the Hartford Company--and I've got
to be at Cincinnati to attend the Convention, and I don't see how I
can go to Rhode Island without great loss and great fatigue; it would
cost you maybe more than you'd be willing to give.'

"Well, the Quaker looked pretty white about the gills, I tell you,
when he heard this, for he couldn't do without him no how, and he
didn't like this preliminary talk of his at all. At last he made
bold to ask him the worst of it, what he would take? 'Why,' says
Daniel, 'I always liked the Quakers, they are a quiet peaceable
people who never go to law if they can help it, and it would be
better for our great country if there were more such people in it. I
never seed or heerd tell of any harm in 'em except going the whole
figure for Gineral Jackson, and that everlasting, almighty villain,
Van Buren; yes, I love the Quakers, I hope they'll go the Webster
ticket yet--and I'll go for you as low as I can any way afford, say
one thousand dollars.'

"The Quaker well nigh fainted when he heerd this, but he was pretty
deep too; so, says he, 'Lawyer, that's a great deal of money, but I
have more cases there; if I give you the one thousand dollars will
you plead the other cases I shall have to give you?' 'Yes,' says
Daniel, 'I will to the best of my humble abilities.' So down they
went to Rhode Island, and Daniel tried the case and carried it for
the Quaker. Well, the Quaker he goes round to all the folks that had
suits in court, and says he, 'What will you give me if I get the
great Daniel to plead for you? It cost me one thousand dollars for
a fee, but now he and I are pretty thick, and as he is on the spot,
I'd get him to plead cheap for you.' So he got three hundred dollars
from one, and two from another, and so on, until he got eleven hundred
dollars, jist one hundred dollars more than he gave. Daniel was in a
great rage when he heerd this. 'What!' says he, 'do you think I would
agree to your letting me out like a horse to hire?' 'Friend Daniel,'
said the Quaker, 'didst thou not undertake to plead all such cases as
I should have to give thee? If thou wilt not stand to thy agreement,
neither will I stand to mine.' Daniel laughed out ready to split his
sides at this. 'Well,' says he, 'I guess I might as well stand still
for you to put the bridle on this time, for you have fairly pinned me
up in a corner of the fence anyhow.' So he went good humouredly to
work and pleaded them all.

"This lazy fellow, Pugnose," continued the Clockmaker; "that keeps
this inn, is going to sell off and go to the States; he says he has
to work too hard here; that the markets are dull, and the winter too
long; and he guesses he can live easier there; I guess he'll find his
mistake afore he has been there long. Why, our country ain't to be
compared to this on no account whatever; our country never made us
to be the great nation we are, but we made the country. How on airth
could we, if we were all like old Pugnose, as lazy, as ugly, make
that cold thin soil of New England produce what it does? Why, sir,
the land between Boston and Salem would starve a flock of geese; and
yet look at Salem; it has more cash than would buy Nova Scotia from
the King. We rise early, live frugally, and work late; what we get
we take care of. To all this we add enterprise and intelligence--a
feller who finds work too hard here, had better not go to the States.
I met an Irishman, one Pat Lannigan, last week, who had just returned
from the States. 'Why,' says I, 'Pat, what on airth brought you
back?' 'Bad luck to them,' says Pat, 'if I warn't properly bit. "What
do you get a day in Nova Scotia?" says Judge Beler to me. "Four
shillings, your Lordship," says I. "There are no Lords here," says
he, "we are all free. Well," says he, "I'll give you as much in one
day as you can earn there in two; I'll give you eight shillings."
"Long life to your Lordship," says I. So next day to it I went with a
party of men a-digging a piece of canal, and if it wasn't a hot day
my name is not Pat Lannigan. Presently I looked up and straightened
my back; says I to a comrade of mine, "Mick," says I, "I'm very dry;"
with that, says the overseer, "We don't allow gentlemen to talk at
their work in this country." Faith, I soon found out for my two days'
pay in one, I had to do two days' work in one, and pay two weeks'
board in one, and at the end of a month, I found myself no better off
in pocket than in Nova Scotia; while the devil a bone in my body that
didn't ache with pain, and as for my nose, it took to bleeding, and
bled day and night entirely. Upon my soul, Mr. Slick,' said he, 'the
poor labourer does not last long in your country; what with new rum,
hard labour, and hot weather, you'll see the graves of the Irish each
side of the canal, for all the world like two rows of potatoes in a
field that have forgot to come up.'

"It is a land, sir," continued the Clockmaker, "of hard work. We have
two kind of slaves, the niggers and the white slaves. All European
labourers and blacks, who come out to us, do our hard bodily work,
while we direct it to a profitable end; neither rich nor poor, high
nor low, with us, eat the bread of idleness. Our whole capital is in
active operation, and our whole population is in active employment.
An idle fellow, like Pugnose, who runs away to us, is clapped into
harness afore he knows where he is, and is made to work; like a
horse that refuses to draw, he is put into the teamboat; he finds
some before him and others behind him, he must either draw, or be
dragged to death."

No. V

Justice Pettifog.

In the morning the Clockmaker informed me that a Justice's Court was
to be held that day at Pugnose's inn, and he guessed he could do
a little business among the country folks that would be assembled
there. Some of them, he said, owed him for clocks, and it would save
him a world of travelling, to have the Justice and Constable to
drive them up together. "If you want a fat wether, there's nothing
like penning up the whole flock in a corner. I guess," said he, "if
General Campbell knew what sort of a man that 'ere magistrate was,
he'd disband him pretty quick; he's a regular suck egg--a disgrace
to the country. I guess if he acted that way in Kentucky, he'd get
a breakfast of cold lead some morning, out of the small eend of a
rifle, he'd find pretty difficult to digest. They tell me he issues
three hundred writs a year, the cost of which, including that
tarnation constable's fees, can't amount to nothing less than three
thousand dollars per annum. If the Hon'ble Daniel Webster had him
afore a jury, I reckon he'd turn him inside out, and slip him back
again, as quick as an old stocking. He'd paint him to the life, as
plain to be known as the head of Gineral Jackson. He's jist a fit
feller for Lynch law, to be tried, hanged, and damned, all at once;
there's more nor him in the country--there's some of the breed in
every county in the Province. Jist one or two to do the dirty work,
as we keep niggers for jobs that would give a white man the cholera.
They ought to pay his passage, as we do with such critters, tell him
his place is taken in the mail coach, and if he is found here after
twenty-four hours, they'd make a carpenter's plumb-bob of him, and
hang him outside the church steeple, to try if it was perpendicular.
He almost always gives judgment for plaintiff, and if the poor
defendant has an offset, he makes him sue it, so that it grinds a
grist both ways for him, like the upper and lower millstone."

People soon began to assemble, some on foot, and others on
horseback and in wagons. Pugnose's tavern was all bustle and
confusion--plaintiffs, defendants, and witnesses, all talking,
quarrelling, explaining, and drinking. "Here comes the Squire," said
one. "I'm thinking his horse carries more roguery than law," said
another. "They must have been in proper want of timber to make a
justice of," said a third, "when they took such a crooked stick as
that." "Sap-headed enough too for refuse," said a stout-looking
farmer. "May be so," said another, "but as hard at the heart as a
log of elm." "Howsomever," said a third, "I hope it won't be long
afore he has the wainy edge scored off of him, anyhow." Many more
such remarks were made, all drawn from familiar objects, but all
expressive of bitterness and contempt.

He carried one or two large books with him in his gig, and a
considerable roll of papers. As soon as the obsequious Mr. Pugnose
saw him at the door, he assisted him to alight, ushered him into the
"best room," and desired the constable to attend "the Squire." The
crowd immediately entered, and the Constable opened the court in due
form, and commanded silence.

Taking out a long list of causes, Mr. Pettifog commenced reading the
names: "James Sharp versus John Slug--call John Slug." John Slug
being duly called and not answering, was defaulted. In this manner
he proceeded to default some twenty or thirty persons. At last he
came to a cause, "William Hare versus Dennis O'Brien--call Dennis
O'Brien." "Here I am," said a voice from the other room--"here I am,
who has anything to say to Dennis O'Brien?"

"Make less noise, sir," said the Justice, "or I'll commit you."

"Commit me, is it," said Dennis. "Take care then, Squire, you don't
commit yourself."

"You are sued by William Hare for three pounds, for a month's board
and lodging; what have you to say to it?"

"Say to it?" said Dennis. "Did you ever hear what Tim Doyle said
when he was going to be hanged for stealing a pig? Says he, 'If
the pig hadn't squeeled in the bag I'd never have been found out,
so I wouldn't.' So I'll take warning by Tim Doyle's fate; I say
nothing--let him prove it." Here Mr. Hare was called on for his
proof, but taking it for granted that the board would be admitted,
and the defence opened, he was not prepared with proof.

"I demand," said Dennis, "I demand an unsuit."

Here there was a consultation between the Justice and the Plaintiff,
when the Justice said, "I shall not nonsuit him, I shall continue the
cause." "What, hang it up till next court? You had better hang me up
then at once. How can a poor man come here so often? This may be the
entertainment Pugnose advertises for horses, but by Jacquers, it is
no entertainment for me. I admit then, sooner than come again, I
admit it."

"You admit you owe him three pounds then for a month's board?"

"I admit no such thing; I say I boarded with him a month, and was
like Pat Moran's cow at the end of it, at the lifting, bad luck to
him." A neighbour was here called, who proved that the three pounds
might be the usual price. "And do you know I taught his children to
write at the school?" said Dennis. "You might," answered the witness.
"And what is that worth?" "I don't know." "You don't know? Faith, I
believe you're right," said Dennis, "for if the children are half as
big rogues as the faither, they might leave writing alone, or they'd
be like to be hanged for forgery." Here Dennis produced his account
for teaching five children, two quarters, at nine shillings a quarter
each, four pounds ten shillings. "I am sorry, Mr. O'Brien," said the
Justice, "very sorry, but your defence will not avail you; your account
is too large for one Justice; any sum over three pounds must be sued
before two magistrates."

"But I only want to offset as much as will pay the board."

"It can't be done in this shape," said the magistrate; "I will
consult Justice Dolittle, my neighbour, and if Mr. Hare won't settle
with you, I will sue it for you."

"Well," said Dennis, "all I have to say is, that there is not so big
a rogue as Hare on the whole river, save and except one scoundrel
who shall be nameless," making a significant and humble bow to the
Justice. Here there was a general laugh throughout the court. Dennis
retired to the next room to indemnify himself by another glass
of grog, and venting his abuse against Hare and the Magistrate.
Disgusted at the gross partiality of the Justice, I also quitted the
court, fully concurring in the opinion, though not in the language,
that Dennis was giving utterance to in the bar room.

Pettifog owed his elevation to his interest at an election. It is
to be hoped that his subsequent merits will be as promptly rewarded,
by his dismissal from a bench which he disgraces and defiles by his
presence.

No. VI

Anecdotes.

As we mounted our horses to proceed to Amherst, groups of country
people were to be seen standing about Pugnose's inn, talking over the
events of the morning, while others were dispersing to their several
homes.

"A pretty prime superfine scoundrel, that Pettifog," said the
Clockmaker; "he and his constable are well mated, and they've
travelled in the same gear so long together, that they make about
as nice a yoke of rascals as you'll meet in a day's ride. They pull
together like one rope reeved through two blocks. That 'ere constable
was e'enamost strangled t'other day; and if he hadn't had a little
grain more wit than his master, I guess he'd had his wind-pipe
stopped as tight as a bladder. There is an outlaw of a feller here,
for all the world like one of our Kentucky Squatters, one Bill
Smith--a critter that neither fears man nor devil. Sheriff and
constable can make no hand of him; they can't catch him no how; and
if they do come up with him, he slips through their fingers like
an eel; and then, he goes armed, and he can knock the eye out of a
squirrel with a ball, at fifty yards hand running--a regular ugly
customer.

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