Chapter Twenty-One

Martin Chuzzlewit

by Charles Dickens

MORE AMERICAN EXPERIENCES, MARTIN TAKES A PARTNER, AND MAKES A
PURCHASE. SOME ACCOUNT OF EDEN, AS IT APPEARED ON PAPER. ALSO OF
THE BRITISH LION. ALSO OF THE KIND OF SYMPATHY PROFESSED AND
ENTERTAINED BY THE WATERTOAST ASSOCIATION OF UNITED SYMPATHISERS

The knocking at Mr Pecksniff's door, though loud enough, bore no
resemblance whatever to the noise of an American railway train at
full speed. It may be well to begin the present chapter with this
frank admission, lest the reader should imagine that the sounds now
deafening this history's ears have any connection with the knocker on
Mr Pecksniff's door, or with the great amount of agitation pretty
equally divided between that worthy man and Mr Pinch, of which its
strong performance was the cause.

Mr Pecksniff's house is more than a thousand leagues away; and
again this happy chronicle has Liberty and Moral Sensibility for its
high companions. Again it breathes the blessed air of Independence;
again it contemplates with pious awe that moral sense which renders
unto Ceasar nothing that is his; again inhales that sacred atmosphere
which was the life of him--oh noble patriot, with many
followers!--who dreamed of Freedom in a slave's embrace, and waking
sold her offspring and his own in public markets.

How the wheels clank and rattle, and the tram-road shakes, as
the train rushes on! And now the engine yells, as it were lashed and
tortured like a living labourer, and writhed in agony. A poor fancy;
for steel and iron are of infinitely greater account, in this
commonwealth, than flesh and blood. If the cunning work of man be
urged beyond its power of endurance, it has within it the elements of
its own revenge; whereas the wretched mechanism of the Divine Hand is
dangerous with no such property, but may be tampered with, and
crushed, and broken, at the driver's pleasure. Look at that engine!
It shall cost a man more dollars in the way of penalty and fine, and
satisfaction of the outraged law, to deface in wantonness that
senseless mass of metal, than to take the lives of twenty human
creatures! Thus the stars wink upon the bloody stripes; and Liberty
pulls down her cap upon her eyes, and owns Oppression in its vilest
aspect, for her sister.

The engine-driver of the train whose noise awoke us to the
present chapter was certainly troubled with no such reflections as
these; nor is it very probable that his mind was disturbed by any
reflections at all. He leaned with folded arms and crossed legs
against the side of the carriage, smoking; and, except when he
expressed, by a grunt as short as his pipe, his approval of some
particularly dexterous aim on the part of his colleague, the fireman,
who beguiled his leisure by throwing logs of wood from the tender at
the numerous stray cattle on the line, he preserved a composure so
immovable, and an indifference so complete, that if the locomotive
had been a sucking-pig, he could not have been more perfectly
indifferent to its doings. Notwithstanding the tranquil state of
this officer, and his unbroken peace of mind, the train was
proceeding with tolerable rapidity; and the rails being but poorly
laid, the jolts and bumps it met with in its progress were neither
slight nor few.

There were three great caravans or cars attached. The ladies'
car, the gentlemen's car, and the car for negroes; the latter painted
black, as an appropriate compliment to its company. Martin and Mark
Tapley were in the first, as it was the most comfortable; and, being
far from full, received other gentlemen who, like them, were
unblessed by the society of ladies of their own. They were seated
side by side, and were engaged in earnest conversation.

'And so, Mark,' said Martin, looking at him with an anxious
expression, 'and so you are glad we have left New York far behind us,
are you?'

'Yes, sir,' said Mark. 'I am. Precious glad.'

'Were you not "jolly" there?' asked Martin.

'On the contrairy, sir,' returned Mark. 'The jolliest week as
ever I spent in my life, was that there week at Pawkins's.'

'What do you think of our prospects?' inquired Martin, with an
air that plainly said he had avoided the question for some time.

'Uncommon bright, sir,' returned Mark. 'Impossible for a place
to have a better name, sir, than the Walley of Eden. No man couldn't
think of settling in a better place than the Walley of Eden. And I'm
told,' added Mark, after a pause, 'as there's lots of serpents there,
so we shall come out, quite complete and reg'lar.'

So far from dwelling upon this agreeable piece of information
with the least dismay, Mark's face grew radiant as he called it to
mind; so very radiant, that a stranger might have supposed he had all
his life been yearning for the society of serpents, and now hailed
with delight the approaching consummation of his fondest wishes.

'Who told you that?' asked Martin, sternly.

'A military officer,' said Mark.

'Confound you for a ridiculous fellow!' cried Martin, laughing
heartily in spite of himself. 'What military officer? You know they
spring up in every field.'

'As thick as scarecrows in England, sir,' interposed Mark,
'which is a sort of milita themselves, being entirely coat and
wescoat, with a stick inside. Ha, ha!--Don't mind me, sir; it's my
way sometimes. I can't help being jolly. Why it was one of them
inwading conquerors at Pawkins's, as told me. "Am I rightly
informed," he says--not exactly through his nose, but as if he'd got
a stoppage in it, very high up--"that you're a-going to the Walley of
Eden?" "I heard some talk on it," I told him. "Oh!" says he, "if
you should ever happen to go to bed there--you may, you know," he
says, "in course of time as civilisation progresses--don't forget to
take a axe with you." I looks at him tolerable hard. "Fleas?" says
I. "And more," says he. "Wampires?" says I. "And more," says he.
"Musquitoes, perhaps?" says I. "And more," says he. "What more?"
says I. "Snakes more," says he; "rattle-snakes. You're right to a
certain extent, stranger. There air some catawampous chawers in the
small way too, as graze upon a human pretty strong; but don't mind
them--they're company. It's snakes," he says, "as you'll object to;
and whenever you wake and see one in a upright poster on your bed,"
he says, "like a corkscrew with the handle off a-sittin' on its
bottom ring, cut him down, for he means wenom."'

'Why didn't you tell me this before!' cried Martin, with an
expression of face which set off the cheerfulness of Mark's visage to
great advantage.

'I never thought on it, sir,' said Mark. 'It come in at one
ear, and went out at the other. But Lord love us, he was one of
another Company, I dare say, and only made up the story that we might
go to his Eden, and not the opposition one'

'There's some probability in that,' observed Martin. 'I can
honestly say that I hope so, with all my heart.'

'I've not a doubt about it, sir,' returned Mark, who, full of
the inspiriting influence of the anecodote upon himself, had for the
moment forgotten its probable effect upon his master; 'anyhow, we
must live, you know, sir.'

'Live!' cried Martin. 'Yes, it's easy to say live; but if we
should happen not to wake when rattlesnakes are making corkscrews of
themselves upon our beds, it may be not so easy to do it.'

'And that's a fact,' said a voice so close in his ear that it
tickled him. 'That's dreadful true.'

Martin looked round, and found that a gentleman, on the seat
behind, had thrust his head between himself and Mark, and sat with
his chin resting on the back rail of their little bench, entertaining
himself with their conversation. He was as languid and listless in
his looks as most of the gentlemen they had seen; his cheeks were so
hollow that he seemed to be always sucking them in; and the sun had
burnt him, not a wholesome red or brown, but dirty yellow. He had
bright dark eyes, which he kept half closed; only peeping out of the
corners, and even then with a glance that seemed to say, 'Now you
won't overreach me; you want to, but you won't.' His arms rested
carelessly on his knees as he leant forward; in the palm of his left
hand, as English rustics have their slice of cheese, he had a cake of
tobacco; in his right a penknife. He struck into the dialogue with
as little reserve as if he had been specially called in, days before,
to hear the arguments on both sides, and favour them with his
opinion; and he no more contemplated or cared for the possibility of
their not desiring the honour of his acquaintance or interference in
their private affairs than if he had been a bear or a buffalo.

'That,' he repeated, nodding condescendingly to Martin, as to an
outer barbarian and foreigner, 'is dreadful true. Darn all manner of
vermin.'

Martin could not help frowning for a moment, as if he were
disposed to insinuate that the gentleman had unconsciously 'darned'
himself. But remembering the wisdom of doing at Rome as Romans do, he
smiled with the pleasantest expression he could assume upon so short
a notice.

Their new friend said no more just then, being busily employed
in cutting a quid or plug from his cake of tobacco, and whistling
softly to himself the while. When he had shaped it to his liking, he
took out his old plug, and deposited the same on the back of the seat
between Mark and Martin, while he thrust the new one into the hollow
of his cheek, where it looked like a large walnut, or tolerable
pippin. Finding it quite satisfactory, he stuck the point of his
knife into the old plug, and holding it out for their inspection,
remarked with the air of a man who had not lived in vain, that it was
'used up considerable.' Then he tossed it away; put his knife into
one pocket and his tobacco into another; rested his chin upon the
rail as before; and approving of the pattern on Martin's waistcoat,
reached out his hand to feel the texture of that garment.

'What do you call this now?' he asked.

'Upon my word' said Martin, 'I don't know what it's called.'

'It'll cost a dollar or more a yard, I reckon?'

'I really don't know.'

'In my country,' said the gentleman, 'we know the cost of our
own pro-duce.'

Martin not discussing the question, there was a pause.

'Well!' resumed their new friend, after staring at them intently
during the whole interval of silence; 'how's the unnat'ral old parent
by this time?'

Mr Tapley regarding this inquiry as only another version of the
impertinent English question, 'How's your mother?' would have
resented it instantly, but for Martin's prompt interposition.

'You mean the old country?' he said.

'Ah!' was the reply. 'How's she? Progressing back'ards, I
expect, as usual? Well! How's Queen Victoria?'

'In good health, I believe,' said Martin.

'Queen Victoria won't shake in her royal shoes at all, when she
hears to-morrow named,' observed the stranger, 'No.'

'Not that I am aware of. Why should she?'

'She won't be taken with a cold chill, when she realises what is
being done in these diggings,' said the stranger. 'No.'

'No,' said Martin. 'I think I could take my oath of that.'

The strange gentleman looked at him as if in pity for his
ignorance or prejudice, and said:

'Well, sir, I tell you this--there ain't a engine with its biler
bust, in God A'mighty's free U-nited States, so fixed, and nipped,
and frizzled to a most e-tarnal smash, as that young critter, in her
luxurious location in the Tower of London will be, when she reads the
next double-extra Watertoast Gazette.'

Several other gentlemen had left their seats and gathered round
during the foregoing dialogue. They were highly delighted with this
speech. One very lank gentleman, in a loose limp white cravat, long
white waistcoat, and a black great-coat, who seemed to be in
authority among them, felt called upon to acknowledge it.

'Hem! Mr La Fayette Kettle,' he said, taking off his hat.

There was a grave murmur of 'Hush!'

'Mr La Fayette Kettle! Sir!'

Mr Kettle bowed.

'In the name of this company, sir, and in the name of our common
country, and in the name of that righteous cause of holy sympathy in
which we are engaged, I thank you. I thank you, sir, in the name of
the Watertoast Sympathisers; and I thank you, sir, in the name of the
Watertoast Gazette; and I thank you, sir, in the name of the
star-spangled banner of the Great United States, for your eloquent
and categorical exposition. And if, sir,' said the speaker, poking
Martin with the handle of his umbrella to bespeak his attention, for
he was listening to a whisper from Mark; 'if, sir, in such a place,
and at such a time, I might venture to con-clude with a sentiment,
glancing--however slantin'dicularly--at the subject in hand, I would
say, sir, may the British Lion have his talons eradicated by the
noble bill of the American Eagle, and be taught to play upon the
Irish Harp and the Scotch Fiddle that music which is breathed in
every empty shell that lies upon the shores of green Co-lumbia!'

Here the lank gentleman sat down again, amidst a great
sensation; and every one looked very grave.

'General Choke,' said Mr La Fayette Kettle, 'you warm my heart;
sir, you warm my heart. But the British Lion is not unrepresented
here, sir; and I should be glad to hear his answer to those
remarks.'

'Upon my word,' cried Martin, laughing, 'since you do me the
honour to consider me his representative, I have only to say that I
never heard of Queen Victoria reading the What's-his-name Gazette and
that I should scarcely think it probable.'

General Choke smiled upon the rest, and said, in patient and
benignant explanation:

'It is sent to her, sir. It is sent to her. Her mail.'

'But if it is addressed to the Tower of London, it would hardly
come to hand, I fear,' returned Martin; 'for she don't live
there.'

'The Queen of England, gentlemen,' observed Mr Tapley, affecting
the greatest politeness, and regarding them with an immovable face,
'usually lives in the Mint to take care of the money. She has
lodgings, in virtue of her office, with the Lord Mayor at the Mansion
House; but don't often occupy them, in consequence of the parlour
chimney smoking.'

'Mark,' said Martin, 'I shall be very much obliged to you if
you'll have the goodness not to interfere with preposterous
statements, however jocose they may appear to you. I was merely
remarking gentlemen--though it's a point of very little import--that
the Queen of England does not happen to live in the Tower of
London.'

'General!' cried Mr La Fayette Kettle. 'You hear?'

'General!' echoed several others. 'General!'

'Hush! Pray, silence!' said General Choke, holding up his hand,
and speaking with a patient and complacent benevolence that was quite
touching. 'I have always remarked it as a very extraordinary
circumstance, which I impute to the natur' of British Institutions
and their tendency to suppress that popular inquiry and information
which air so widely diffused even in the trackless forests of this
vast Continent of the Western Ocean; that the knowledge of Britishers
themselves on such points is not to be compared with that possessed
by our intelligent and locomotive citizens. This is interesting, and
confirms my observation. When you say, sir,' he continued,
addressing Martin, 'that your Queen does not reside in the Tower of
London, you fall into an error, not uncommon to your countrymen, even
when their abilities and moral elements air such as to command
respect. But, sir, you air wrong. She does live there--'

'When she is at the Court of Saint James's,' interposed
Kettle.

'When she is at the Court of Saint James's, of course,' returned
the General, in the same benignant way; 'for if her location was in
Windsor Pavilion it couldn't be in London at the same time. Your
Tower of London, sir,' pursued the General, smiling with a mild
consciousness of his knowledge, 'is nat'rally your royal residence.
Being located in the immediate neighbourhood of your Parks, your
Drives, your Triumphant Arches, your Opera, and your Royal Almacks,
it nat'rally suggests itself as the place for holding a luxurious and
thoughtless court. And, consequently,' said the General,
'consequently, the court is held there.'

'Have you been in England?' asked Martin.

'In print I have, sir,' said the General, 'not otherwise. We
air a reading people here, sir. You will meet with much information
among us that will surprise you, sir.'

'I have not the least doubt of it,' returned Martin. But here
he was interrupted by Mr La Fayette Kettle, who whispered in his
ear:

'You know General Choke?'

'No,' returned Martin, in the same tone.

'You know what he is considered?'

'One of the most remarkable men in the country?' said Martin, at
a venture.

'That's a fact,' rejoined Kettle. 'I was sure you must have
heard of him!'

'I think,' said Martin, addressing himself to the General again,
'that I have the pleasure of being the bearer of a letter of
introduction to you, sir. From Mr Bevan, of Massachusetts,' he
added, giving it to him.

The General took it and read it attentively; now and then
stopping to glance at the two strangers. When he had finished the
note, he came over to Martin, sat down by him, and shook hands.

'Well!' he said, 'and you think of settling in Eden?'

'Subject to your opinion, and the agent's advice,' replied
Martin. 'I am told there is nothing to be done in the old towns.'

'I can introduce you to the agent, sir,' said the General. 'I
know him. In fact, I am a member of the Eden Land Corporation
myself.'

This was serious news to Martin, for his friend had laid great
stress upon the General's having no connection, as he thought, with
any land company, and therefore being likely to give him
disinterested advice. The General explained that he had joined the
Corporation only a few weeks ago, and that no communication had
passed between himself and Mr Bevan since.

'We have very little to venture,' said Martin anxiously--'only a
few pounds--but it is our all. Now, do you think that for one of my
profession, this would be a speculation with any hope or chance in
it?'

'Well,' observed the General, gravely, 'if there wasn't any hope
or chance in the speculation, it wouldn't have engaged my dollars, I
opinionate.'

'I don't mean for the sellers,' said Martin. 'For the
buyers--for the buyers!'

'For the buyers, sir?' observed the General, in a most
impressive manner. 'Well! you come from an old country; from a
country, sir, that has piled up golden calves as high as Babel, and
worshipped 'em for ages. We are a new country, sir; man is in a more
primeval state here, sir; we have not the excuse of having lapsed in
the slow course of time into degenerate practices; we have no false
gods; man, sir, here, is man in all his dignity. We fought for that
or nothing. Here am I, sir,' said the General, setting up his
umbrella to represent himself, and a villanous-looking umbrella it
was; a very bad counter to stand for the sterling coin of his
benevolence, 'here am I with grey hairs sir, and a moral sense. Would
I, with my principles, invest capital in this speculation if I didn't
think it full of hopes and chances for my brother man?'

Martin tried to look convinced, but he thought of New York, and
found it difficult.

'What are the Great United States for, sir,' pursued the General
'if not for the regeneration of man? But it is nat'ral in you to
make such an enquerry, for you come from England, and you do not know
my country.'

'Then you think,' said Martin, 'that allowing for the hardships
we are prepared to undergo, there is a reasonable--Heaven knows we
don't expect much--a reasonable opening in this place?'

'A reasonable opening in Eden, sir! But see the agent, see the
agent; see the maps and plans, sir; and conclude to go or stay,
according to the natur' of the settlement. Eden hadn't need to go
a-begging yet, sir,' remarked the General.

'It is an awful lovely place, sure-ly. And frightful wholesome,
likewise!' said Mr Kettle, who had made himself a party to this
conversation as a matter of course.

Martin felt that to dispute such testimony, for no better reason
than because he had his secret misgivings on the subject, would be
ungentlemanly and indecent. So he thanked the General for his
promise to put him in personal communication with the agent; and
'concluded' to see that officer next morning. He then begged the
General to inform him who the Watertoast Sympathisers were, of whom
he had spoken in addressing Mr La Fayette Kettle, and on what
grievances they bestowed their Sympathy. To which the General,
looking very serious, made answer, that he might fully enlighten
himself on those points to-morrow by attending a Great Meeting of the
Body, which would then be held at the town to which they were
travelling; 'over which, sir,' said the General, 'my fellow-citizens
have called on me to preside.'

They came to their journey's end late in the evening. Close to
the railway was an immense white edifice, like an ugly hospital, on
which was painted 'National Hotel.' There was a wooden gallery or
verandah in front, in which it was rather startling, when the train
stopped, to behold a great many pairs of boots and shoes, and the
smoke of a great many cigars, but no other evidences of human
habitation. By slow degrees, however, some heads and shoulders
appeared, and connecting themselves with the boots and shoes, led to
the discovery that certain gentlemen boarders, who had a fancy for
putting their heels where the gentlemen boarders in other countries
usually put their heads, were enjoying themselves after their own
manner in the cool of the evening.

There was a great bar-room in this hotel, and a great public
room in which the general table was being set out for supper. There
were interminable whitewashed staircases, long whitewashed galleries
upstairs and downstairs, scores of little whitewashed bedrooms, and a
four-sided verandah to every story in the house, which formed a large
brick square with an uncomfortable courtyard in the centre, where
some clothes were drying. Here and there, some yawning gentlemen
lounged up and down with their hands in their pockets; but within the
house and without, wherever half a dozen people were collected
together, there, in their looks, dress, morals, manners, habits,
intellect, and conversation, were Mr Jefferson Brick, Colonel Diver,
Major Pawkins, General Choke, and Mr La Fayette Kettle, over, and
over, and over again. They did the same things; said the same
things; judged all subjects by, and reduced all subjects to, the same
standard. Observing how they lived, and how they were always in the
enchanting company of each other, Martin even began to comprehend
their being the social, cheerful, winning, airy men they were.

At the sounding of a dismal gong, this pleasant company went
trooping down from all parts of the house to the public room; while
from the neighbouring stores other guests came flocking in, in
shoals; for half the town, married folks as well as single, resided
at the National Hotel. Tea, coffee, dried meats, tongue, ham,
pickles, cake, toast, preserves, and bread and butter, were swallowed
with the usual ravaging speed; and then, as before, the company
dropped off by degrees, and lounged away to the desk, the counter, or
the bar-room. The ladies had a smaller ordinary of their own, to
which their husbands and brothers were admitted if they chose; and in
all other respects they enjoyed themselves as at Pawkins's.

'Now, Mark, my good fellow, said Martin, closing the door of his
little chamber, 'we must hold a solemn council, for our fate is
decided to-morrow morning. You are determined to invest these
savings of yours in the common stock, are you?'

'If I hadn't been determined to make that wentur, sir,' answered
Mr Tapley, 'I shouldn't have come.'

'How much is there here, did you say' asked Martin, holding up a
little bag.

'Thirty-seven pound ten and sixpence. The Savings' Bank said so
at least. I never counted it. But they know, bless you!' said Mark,
with a shake of the head expressive of his unbounded confidence in
the wisdom and arithmetic of those Institutions.

'The money we brought with us,' said Martin, 'is reduced to a
few shillings less than eight pounds.'

Mr Tapley smiled, and looked all manner of ways, that he might
not be supposed to attach any importance to this fact.

'Upon the ring--her ring, Mark,' said Martin, looking ruefully
at his empty finger--

'Ah!' sighed Mr Tapley. 'Beg your pardon, sir.'

'--We raised, in English money, fourteen pounds. So, even with
that, your share of the stock is still very much the larger of the
two you see. Now, Mark,' said Martin, in his old way, just as he
might have spoken to Tom Pinch, 'I have thought of a means of making
this up to you--more than making it up to you, I hope--and very
materially elevating your prospects in life.'

'Oh! don't talk of that, you know, sir,' returned Mark. 'I
don't want no elevating, sir. I'm all right enough, sir, I am.'

'No, but hear me,' said Martin, 'because this is very important
to you, and a great satisfaction to me. Mark, you shall be a partner
in the business; an equal partner with myself. I will put in, as my
additional capital, my professional knowledge and ability; and half
the annual profits, as long as it is carried on, shall be yours.'

Poor Martin! For ever building castles in the air. For ever,
in his very selfishness, forgetful of all but his own teeming hopes
and sanguine plans. Swelling, at that instant, with the
consciousness of patronizing and most munificently rewarding Mark!

'I don't know, sir,' Mark rejoined, much more sadly than his
custom was, though from a very different cause than Martin supposed,
'what I can say to this, in the way of thanking you. I'll stand by
you, sir, to the best of my ability, and to the last. That's
all.'

'We quite understand each other, my good fellow,' said Martin
rising in self-approval and condescension. 'We are no longer master
and servant, but friends and partners; and are mutually gratified.
If we determine on Eden, the business shall be commenced as soon as
we get there. Under the name,' said Martin, who never hammered upon
an idea that wasn't red hot, 'under the name of Chuzzlewit and
Tapley.'

'Lord love you, sir,' cried Mark, 'don't have my name in it. I
ain't acquainted with the business, sir. I must be Co., I must. I've
often thought,' he added, in a low voice, 'as I should like to know a
Co.; but I little thought as ever I should live to be one.'

'You shall have your own way, Mark.'

'Thank'ee, sir. If any country gentleman thereabouts, in the
public way, or otherwise, wanted such a thing as a skittle-ground
made, I could take that part of the bis'ness, sir.'

'Against any architect in the States,' said Martin. 'Get a
couple of sherry-cobblers, Mark, and we'll drink success to the
firm.'

Either he forgot already (and often afterwards), that they were
no longer master and servant, or considered this kind of duty to be
among the legitimate functions of the Co. But Mark obeyed with his
usual alacrity; and before they parted for the night, it was agreed
between them that they should go together to the agent's in the
morning, but that Martin should decide the Eden question, on his own
sound judgment. And Mark made no merit, even to himself in his
jollity, of this concession; perfectly well knowing that the matter
would come to that in the end, any way.

The General was one of the party at the public table next day,
and after breakfast suggested that they should wait upon the agent
without loss of time. They, desiring nothing more, agreed; so off
they all four started for the office of the Eden Settlement, which
was almost within rifle-shot of the National Hotel.

It was a small place--something like a turnpike. But a great
deal of land may be got into a dice-box, and why may not a whole
territory be bargained for in a shed? It was but a temporary office
too; for the Edeners were 'going' to build a superb establishment for
the transaction of their business, and had already got so far as to
mark out the site. Which is a great way in America. The office-
door was wide open, and in the doorway was the agent; no doubt a
tremendous fellow to get through his work, for he seemed to have no
arrears, but was swinging backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair,
with one of his legs planted high up against the door-post, and the
other doubled up under him, as if he were hatching his foot.

He was a gaunt man in a huge straw hat, and a coat of green
stuff. The weather being hot, he had no cravat, and wore his shirt
collar wide open; so that every time he spoke something was seen to
twitch and jerk up in his throat, like the little hammers in a
harpsichord when the notes are struck. Perhaps it was the Truth
feebly endeavouring to leap to his lips. If so, it never reached
them.

Two grey eyes lurked deep within this agent's head, but one of
them had no sight in it, and stood stock still. With that side of
his face he seemed to listen to what the other side was doing. Thus
each profile had a distinct expression; and when the movable side was
most in action, the rigid one was in its coldest state of
watchfulness. It was like turning the man inside out, to pass to
that view of his features in his liveliest mood, and see how
calculating and intent they were.

Each long black hair upon his head hung down as straight as any
plummet line; but rumpled tufts were on the arches of his eyes, as if
the crow whose foot was deeply printed in the corners had pecked and
torn them in a savage recognition of his kindred nature as a bird of
prey.

Such was the man whom they now approached, and whom the General
saluted by the name of Scadder.

'Well, Gen'ral,' he returned, 'and how are you?'

'Ac-tive and spry, sir, in my country's service and the
sympathetic cause. Two gentlemen on business, Mr Scadder.'

He shook hands with each of them--nothing is done in America
without shaking hands--then went on rocking.

'I think I know what bis'ness you have brought these strangers
here upon, then, Gen'ral?'

'Well, sir. I expect you may.'

'You air a tongue-y person, Gen'ral. For you talk too much, and
that's fact,' said Scadder. 'You speak a-larming well in public, but
you didn't ought to go ahead so fast in private. Now!'

'If I can realise your meaning, ride me on a rail!' returned the
General, after pausing for consideration.

'You know we didn't wish to sell the lots off right away to any
loafer as might bid,' said Scadder; 'but had con-cluded to reserve
'em for Aristocrats of Natur'. Yes!'

'And they are here, sir!' cried the General with warmth. 'They
are here, sir!'

'If they air here,' returned the agent, in reproachful accents,
'that's enough. But you didn't ought to have your dander ris with
me, Gen'ral.'

The General whispered Martin that Scadder was the honestest
fellow in the world, and that he wouldn't have given him offence
designedly, for ten thousand dollars.

'I do my duty; and I raise the dander of my feller critters, as
I wish to serve,' said Scadder in a low voice, looking down the road
and rocking still. 'They rile up rough, along of my objecting to
their selling Eden off too cheap. That's human natur'! Well!'

'Mr Scadder,' said the General, assuming his oratorical
deportment. 'Sir! Here is my hand, and here my heart. I esteem you,
sir, and ask your pardon. These gentlemen air friends of mine, or I
would not have brought 'em here, sir, being well aware, sir, that the
lots at present go entirely too cheap. But these air friends, sir;
these air partick'ler friends.'

Mr Scadder was so satisfied by this explanation, that he shook
the General warmly by the hand, and got out of the rocking-chair to
do it. He then invited the General's particular friends to accompany
him into the office. As to the General, he observed, with his usual
benevolence, that being one of the company, he wouldn't interfere in
the transaction on any account; so he appropriated the rocking-chair
to himself, and looked at the prospect, like a good Samaritan waiting
for a traveller.

'Heyday!' cried Martin, as his eye rested on a great plan which
occupied one whole side of the office. Indeed, the office had little
else in it, but some geological and botanical specimens, one or two
rusty ledgers, a homely desk, and a stool. 'Heyday! what's that?'

'That's Eden,' said Scadder, picking his teeth with a sort of
young bayonet that flew out of his knife when he touched a spring.

'Why, I had no idea it was a city.'

'Hadn't you? Oh, it's a city.'

A flourishing city, too! An architectural city! There were
banks, churches, cathedrals, market-places, factories, hotels,
stores, mansions, wharves; an exchange, a theatre; public buildings
of all kinds, down to the office of the Eden Stinger, a daily
journal; all faithfully depicted in the view before them.

'Dear me! It's really a most important place!' cried Martin
turning round.

'Oh! it's very important,' observed the agent.

'But, I am afraid,' said Martin, glancing again at the Public
Buildings, 'that there's nothing left for me to do.'

'Well! it ain't all built,' replied the agent. 'Not quite.'

This was a great relief.

'The market-place, now,' said Martin. 'Is that built?'

'That?' said the agent, sticking his toothpick into the
weathercock on the top. 'Let me see. No; that ain't built.'

'Rather a good job to begin with--eh, Mark?' whispered Martin
nudging him with his elbow.

Mark, who, with a very stolid countenance had been eyeing the
plan and the agent by turns, merely rejoined 'Uncommon!'

A dead silence ensued, Mr Scadder in some short recesses or
vacations of his toothpick, whistled a few bars of Yankee Doodle, and
blew the dust off the roof of the Theatre.

'I suppose,' said Martin, feigning to look more narrowly at the
plan, but showing by his tremulous voice how much depended, in his
mind, upon the answer; 'I suppose there are--several architects
there?'

'There ain't a single one,' said Scadder.

'Mark,' whispered Martin, pulling him by the sleeve, 'do you
hear that? But whose work is all this before us, then?' he asked
aloud.

'The soil being very fruitful, public buildings grows
spontaneous, perhaps,' said Mark.

He was on the agent's dark side as he said it; but Scadder
instantly changed his place, and brought his active eye to bear upon
him.

'Feel of my hands, young man,' he said.

'What for?' asked Mark, declining.

'Air they dirty, or air they clean, sir?' said Scadder, holding
them out.

In a physical point of view they were decidedly dirty. But it
being obvious that Mr Scadder offered them for examination in a
figurative sense, as emblems of his moral character, Martin hastened
to pronounce them pure as the driven snow.

'I entreat, Mark,' he said, with some irritation, 'that you will
not obtrude remarks of that nature, which, however harmless and
well-intentioned, are quite out of place, and cannot be expected to
be very agreeable to strangers. I am quite surprised.'

'The Co.'s a-putting his foot in it already,' thought Mark. 'He
must be a sleeping partner--fast asleep and snoring--Co. must; I
see.'

Mr Scadder said nothing, but he set his back against the plan,
and thrust his toothpick into the desk some twenty times; looking at
Mark all the while as if he were stabbing him in effigy.

'You haven't said whose work it is,' Martin ventured to observe
at length, in a tone of mild propitiation.

'Well, never mind whose work it is, or isn't,' said the agent
sulkily. 'No matter how it did eventuate. P'raps he cleared off,
handsome, with a heap of dollars; p'raps he wasn't worth a cent.
P'raps he was a loafin' rowdy; p'raps a ring-tailed roarer. Now!'

'All your doing, Mark!' said Martin.

'P'raps,' pursued the agent, 'them ain't plants of Eden's
raising. No! P'raps that desk and stool ain't made from Eden lumber.
No! P'raps no end of squatters ain't gone out there. No! P'raps
there ain't no such location in the territoary of the Great U-nited
States. Oh, no!'

'I hope you're satisfied with the success of your joke, Mark,'
said Martin.

But here, at a most opportune and happy time, the General
interposed, and called out to Scadder from the doorway to give his
friends the particulars of that little lot of fifty acres with the
house upon it; which, having belonged to the company formerly, had
lately lapsed again into their hands.

'You air a deal too open-handed, Gen'ral,' was the answer. 'It
is a lot as should be rose in price. It is.'

He grumblingly opened his books notwithstanding, and always
keeping his bright side towards Mark, no matter at what amount of
inconvenience to himself, displayed a certain leaf for their perusal.
Martin read it greedily, and then inquired:

'Now where upon the plan may this place be?'

'Upon the plan?' said Scadder.

'Yes.'

He turned towards it, and reflected for a short time, as if,
having been put upon his mettle, he was resolved to be particular to
the very minutest hair's breadth of a shade. At length, after
wheeling his toothpick slowly round and round in the air, as if it
were a carrier pigeon just thrown up, he suddenly made a dart at the
drawing, and pierced the very centre of the main wharf, through and
through.

'There!' he said, leaving his knife quivering in the wall;
'that's where it is!'

Martin glanced with sparkling eyes upon his Co., and his Co. saw
that the thing was done.

The bargain was not concluded as easily as might have been
expected though, for Scadder was caustic and ill-humoured, and cast
much unnecessary opposition in the way; at one time requesting them
to think of it, and call again in a week or a fortnight; at another,
predicting that they wouldn't like it; at another, offering to
retract and let them off, and muttering strong imprecations upon the
folly of the General. But the whole of the astoundingly small sum
total of purchase-money--it was only one hundred and fifty dollars,
or something more than thirty pounds of the capital brought by Co.
into the architectural concern--was ultimately paid down; and
Martin's head was two inches nearer the roof of the little wooden
office, with the consciousness of being a landed proprietor in the
thriving city of Eden.

'If it shouldn't happen to fit,' said Scadder, as he gave Martin
the necessary credentials on recepit of his money, 'don't blame
me.'

'No, no,' he replied merrily. 'We'll not blame you. General,
are you going?'

'I am at your service, sir; and I wish you,' said the General,
giving him his hand with grave cordiality, 'joy of your po-ssession.
You air now, sir, a denizen of the most powerful and highly-
civilised dominion that has ever graced the world; a do-minion, sir,
where man is bound to man in one vast bond of equal love and truth.
May you, sir, be worthy of your a-dopted country!'

Martin thanked him, and took leave of Mr Scadder; who had
resumed his post in the rocking-chair, immediately on the General's
rising from it, and was once more swinging away as if he had never
been disturbed. Mark looked back several times as they went down the
road towards the National Hotel, but now his blighted profile was
towards them, and nothing but attentive thoughtfulness was written on
it. Strangely different to the other side! He was not a man much
given to laughing, and never laughed outright; but every line in the
print of the crow's foot, and every little wiry vein in that division
of his head, was wrinkled up into a grin! The compound figure of
Death and the Lady at the top of the old ballad was not divided with
a greater nicety, and hadn't halves more monstrously unlike each
other, than the two profiles of Zephaniah Scadder.

The General posted along at a great rate, for the clock was on
the stroke of twelve; and at that hour precisely, the Great Meeting
of the Watertoast Sympathisers was to be holden in the public room of
the National Hotel. Being very curious to witness the demonstration,
and know what it was all about, Martin kept close to the General;
and, keeping closer than ever when they entered the Hall, got by that
means upon a little platform of tables at the upper end; where an
armchair was set for the General, and Mr La Fayette Kettle, as
secretary, was making a great display of some foolscap documents.
Screamers, no doubt.

'Well, sir!' he said, as he shook hands with Martin, 'here is a
spectacle calc'lated to make the British Lion put his tail between
his legs, and howl with anguish, I expect!'

Martin certainly thought it possible that the British Lion might
have been rather out of his element in that Ark; but he kept the idea
to himself. The General was then voted to the chair, on the motion
of a pallid lad of the Jefferson Brick school; who forthwith set in
for a high-spiced speech, with a good deal about hearths and homes in
it, and unriveting the chains of Tyranny.

Oh but it was a clincher for the British Lion, it was! The
indignation of the glowing young Columbian knew no bounds. If he
could only have been one of his own forefathers, he said, wouldn't he
have peppered that same Lion, and been to him as another Brute Tamer
with a wire whip, teaching him lessons not easily forgotten. 'Lion!
(cried that young Columbian) where is he? Who is he? What is he?
Show him to me. Let me have him here. Here!' said the young
Columbian, in a wrestling attitude, 'upon this sacred altar. Here!'
cried the young Columbian, idealising the dining-table, 'upon
ancestral ashes, cemented with the glorious blood poured out like
water on our native plains of Chickabiddy Lick! Bring forth that
Lion!' said the young Columbian. 'Alone, I dare him! I taunt that
Lion. I tell that Lion, that Freedom's hand once twisted in his
mane, he rolls a corse before me, and the Eagles of the Great
Republic laugh ha, ha!'

When it was found that the Lion didn't come, but kept out of the
way; that the young Columbian stood there, with folded arms, alone in
his glory; and consequently that the Eagles were no doubt laughing
wildly on the mountain tops; such cheers arose as might have shaken
the hands upon the Horse-Guards' clock, and changed the very mean
time of the day in England's capital.

'Who is this?' Martin telegraphed to La Fayette.

The Secretary wrote something, very gravely, on a piece of
paper, twisted it up, and had it passed to him from hand to hand. It
was an improvement on the old sentiment: 'Perhaps as remarkable a man
as any in our country.'

This young Columbian was succeeded by another, to the full as
eloquent as he, who drew down storms of cheers. But both remarkable
youths, in their great excitement (for your true poetry can never
stoop to details), forgot to say with whom or what the Watertoasters
sympathized, and likewise why or wherefore they were sympathetic.
Thus Martin remained for a long time as completely in the dark as
ever; until at length a ray of light broke in upon him through the
medium of the Secretary, who, by reading the minutes of their past
proceedings, made the matter somewhat clearer. He then learned that
the Watertoast Association sympathized with a certain Public Man in
Ireland, who held a contest upon certain points with England; and
that they did so, because they didn't love England at all--not by any
means because they loved Ireland much; being indeed horribly jealous
and distrustful of its people always, and only tolerating them
because of their working hard, which made them very useful; labour
being held in greater indignity in the simple republic than in any
other country upon earth. This rendered Martin curious to see what
grounds of sympathy the Watertoast Association put forth; nor was he
long in suspense, for the General rose to read a letter to the Public
Man, which with his own hands he had written.

'Thus,' said the General, 'thus, my friends and fellow-citizens,
it runs:

'"Sir--I address you on behalf of the Watertoast Association of
United Sympathisers. It is founded, sir, in the great republic of
America! and now holds its breath, and swells the blue veins in its
forehead nigh to bursting, as it watches, sir, with feverish
intensity and sympathetic ardour, your noble efforts in the cause of
Freedom."'

At the name of Freedom, and at every repetition of that name,
all the Sympathisers roared aloud; cheering with nine times nine, and
nine times over.

'"In Freedom's name, sir--holy Freedom--I address you. In
Freedom's name, I send herewith a contribution to the funds of your
society. In Freedom's name, sir, I advert with indignation and
disgust to that accursed animal, with gore-stained whiskers, whose
rampant cruelty and fiery lust have ever been a scourge, a torment to
the world. The naked visitors to Crusoe's Island, sir; the flying
wives of Peter Wilkins; the fruit-smeared children of the tangled
bush; nay, even the men of large stature, anciently bred in the
mining districts of Cornwall; alike bear witness to its savage
nature. Where, sir, are the Cormorans, the Blunderbores, the Great
Feefofums, named in History? All, all, exterminated by its
destroying hand.

'"I allude, sir, to the British Lion.

'"Devoted, mind and body, heart and soul, to Freedom, sir--to
Freedom, blessed solace to the snail upon the cellar-door, the oyster
in his pearly bed, the still mite in his home of cheese, the very
winkle of your country in his shelly lair--in her unsullied name, we
offer you our sympathy. Oh, sir, in this our cherished and our happy
land, her fires burn bright and clear and smokeless; once lighted up
in yours, the lion shall be roasted whole.

'"I am, sir, in Freedom's name,

'"Your affectionate friend and faithful Sympathiser,

'"Cyrus Choke,

'"General, U.S.M."'

It happened that just as the General began to read this letter,
the railroad train arrived, bringing a new mail from England; and a
packet had been handed in to the Secretary, which during its perusal
and the frequent cheerings in homage to freedom, he had opened. Now,
its contents disturbed him very much, and the moment the General sat
down, he hurried to his side, and placed in his hand a letter and
several printed extracts from English newspapers; to which, in a
state of infinite excitement, he called his immediate attention.

The General, being greatly heated by his own composition, was in
a fit state to receive any inflammable influence; but he had no
sooner possessed himself of the contents of these documents, than a
change came over his face, involving such a huge amount of choler and
passion, that the noisy concourse were silent in a moment, in very
wonder at the sight of him.

'My friends!' cried the General, rising; 'my friends and fellow
citizens, we have been mistaken in this man.'

'In what man?' was the cry.

'In this,' panted the General, holding up the letter he had read
aloud a few minutes before. 'I find that he has been, and is, the
advocate--consistent in it always too--of Nigger emancipation!'

If anything beneath the sky be real, those Sons of Freedom would
have pistolled, stabbed--in some way slain--that man by coward hands
and murderous violence, if he had stood among them at that time. The
most confiding of their own countrymen would not have wagered
then--no, nor would they ever peril--one dunghill straw, upon the
life of any man in such a strait. They tore the letter, cast the
fragments in the air, trod down the pieces as they fell; and yelled,
and groaned, and hissed, till they could cry no longer.

'I shall move,' said the General, when he could make himself
heard, 'that the Watertoast Association of United Sympathisers be
immediately dissolved!'

Down with it! Away with it! Don't hear of it! Burn its
records! Pull the room down! Blot it out of human memory!

'But, my fellow-countrymen!' said the General, 'the
contributions. We have funds. What is to be done with the funds?'

It was hastily resolved that a piece of plate should be
presented to a certain constitutional Judge, who had laid down from
the Bench the noble principle that it was lawful for any white mob to
murder any black man; and that another piece of plate, of similar
value should be presented to a certain Patriot, who had declared from
his high place in the Legislature, that he and his friends would hang
without trial, any Abolitionist who might pay them a visit. For the
surplus, it was agreed that it should be devoted to aiding the
enforcement of those free and equal laws, which render it
incalculably more criminal and dangerous to teach a negro to read and
write than to roast him alive in a public city. These points
adjusted, the meeting broke up in great disorder, and there was an
end of the Watertoast Sympathy.

As Martin ascended to his bedroom, his eye was attracted by the
Republican banner, which had been hoisted from the house-top in
honour of the occasion, and was fluttering before a window which he
passed.

'Tut!' said Martin. 'You're a gay flag in the distance. But
let a man be near enough to get the light upon the other side and see
through you; and you are but sorry fustian!'