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[Illustration: "Come, now, s'posing we strike up a trade. I've took a
sort of a sneaking notion to that ere new-fashioned side-saddle. So if
you'll throw in the tackling, I'll give you ten dollars for it, cash on
the nail."--_Page 150._]
[Illustration: "I wish you could a seen that Astor House chap when he
read the name; he looked as if he didn't know what to du, but at last he
stepped back, and made a bow, and sez he--"--_Page 184._]
HIGH LIFE IN NEW YORK.
BY
JONATHAN SLICK, ESQ.,
OF
WEATHERSFIELD, CONNECTICUT.
A SERIES OF
LETTERS TO MR. ZEPHARIAH SLICK, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, AND
DEACON OF THE CHURCH OVER TO WEATHERSFIELD
IN THE STATE OF CONNECTICUT.
EMBELLISHED WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ENGRAVINGS.
_Philadelphia_:
T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS,
806 CHESTNUT STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
JONATHAN SENDS A PREFACE.
A letter was dispatched to Weathersfield requesting Mr. Slick to forward
a preface for his volume of epistles, but that gentleman instead sent
the following letter, which is so full of his own peculiar humor that
his friends will no doubt gladly accept of it in lieu of one.
THE PUBLISHERS.
WEATHERSFIELD, CONNECTICUT.
Gentlemen, Surs:
Your letter got tu the old humstead last night, nigh upon bed time, and
it eenamost upsot me to think that a feller that's printed so many
smashing books, had got a notion tu print my Letters tu, and asked my
consent jest as mealy mouthed as a feller asks the gal he's been a
courting to yoke in with him for life.
Now about the price of them are letters when they are all fixed out in a
book. I ain't much acquainted with that sort of trading; but I reckon
you'll have to go a notch higher yit. I never yit heard of a Slick's
taking the fust offer for any thing, and I've cut my eye teeth as well
as the rest on 'em, if I du write. Say ten or fifteen dollars more now,
and mebby it'll du, providing you give in a set of them are stories of
the Revolution with picters, and some of the smashing novels that have
got your names tu them, for my book-shelf in the back-room. Come up tu
the mark on this point, and I'll agree tu sign off any time you want me
tu, and I hope the book'll go off like a flash of lightning down a
forked rod.
But you want me to write something with a pesky new fangled name that
has eenamost upsot me. Write a preface! What on arth is a preface? I can
pull an even yoke with any York chap yet, at writing a letter; but when
you come to talk of prefaces, darn me if I know what the critters are.
Your letter kinder riled me up. The first thing I did was to get down
the old goose quill and ink-bottle and go to work. I was a'most tuckered
out a grinding cider all day, but the thoughts of having my name on the
kiver of a smashing book with picters in it, sot my genius to working
like a yeast pot; but then how tu begin with this new-fangled
consarn--there it was agin. I got the old dictionary and tried to find
out what a preface was; but I might as well have tried to make timber
out of pine shavings. "Something to go before a speech, or a book, or an
essay, to tell what they're about." Now if it had said an old hoss
leading off an ox-team with a cart behind, I could have sent the animal
at once, fresh and chirk from the cider mill; but how to tackle an idea
on a book and make it pull, is more than I am up to, without knowing
more about the sort of literary animal you want to use, and the harness
that fits him. I ain't rusted out yit, by no manner of means; but I
don't mean to make a coot of myself by tackling in with any strange
animal till I know what he is. Now take a pen in hand tu once and let me
know what it is that you want, and you can depend on me, fodder or no
fodder; but keep dark about my having to ask about it. I don't want all
the literary chaps in York a poking fun at me.
Wal, yes, I ain't ashamed to own it, I am tickled eenamost tu death with
the idee of my letters being printed in a harnsome book with tip-top
picters in it. But about my likeness, taken for the _Morning Express_
when I first come tu York, with the corn-colored coat and
pepper-and-salt trowsers and old bell crown--gauly, how I sot by that
old hat! Wal, as I was saying about that are likeness, I han't no
objections tu its going inside the kiver jest as it was. But like all
great literary characters, I reckon there's been a pretty considerable
improvement in me since I began to write, and, like our old barn that's
been shingled and clapboarded over, I'm the same critter yet, timbers
and all; but I reckon you'll find that I've slicked up the outside a
few, and grown a little more pussy since the old pepper-and-salt saw the
day.
Now I'll tell you jest how you'd better manage it. Put the picter you
speak on inside the kiver; but on the outside jest have me pictered out
in a bran new hat, that Mr. Genin sent me jest afore I left York. It's
about as near like the old one, as a son ought to be like his par. Don't
forget my velvet vest, finefied off with curlecues, and my blue coat
with the shining buttons; and if you don't git a picter that'll make the
gals' eyes water, your artists down there in York don't know a good
looking chap when they see him, or can't paint him if they du.
Now about writing another book, I raly don't know what tu say. Them
letters of mine eenamost tuckered me out at the time; but somehow I'd
give all creation to be at 'em again, and one of these days I may pluck
up grit and take a trip over tu England. If I du, by the living hokey,
you'll find John Bull in a tantrum by the time I've got through with
him. That are English lord that I writ about in my letters, gave me an
invite tu come tu England, and mebby he'll see a good looking chap about
my size on t'other side the fishing pond some day or other. Who knows?
You want to know if I feel content to give up life among the big bugs in
New York, and settle down here in the country. Wal, now, between you and
I and the post, I du feel a trifle melancholy now and then. Foddering
cattle, going tu mill and chopping ovenwood ain't jest the thing tu rile
up the poetry in a feller's bosom; and onion tops and garden sars
generally ain't considered the sort of greens that a literary chap
wants put round his head, though they're awful refreshing to the
stomach. But then again, my par, the deacon, is getting to be a purty
old man, and Judy----; but what's the use of talking arter a feller's
under the harrow?
Wal, if I ain't contented, I sartinly ought to be, if the women folks
are judges, and it's quite a considerable time since I've thought it
worth while to have a tussel for any opinion of my own. But tu own right
up, I du hanker awfully tu get off into the world agin; but, for
gracious sake, don't say a word about it. I should never hear the last
of it, if you did, for Judy hates city gals like rank pisin, and is
allfired jealous that I'm hankering to git among 'em again.
I don't know how I ever cum to write this ere long letter, but somehow,
when I set down, pen in hand, the old natur will bile up and run on.
Now about that are consarned preface, jest set down tu once and describe
the way it's to be done, and I'll undertake it, for I want tu make the
book first chop; and if you want more team, I'm the chap tu hitch it on,
the minit you let a feller know what's wanted. So, hoping you'll be
particular about the preface,
I'm yours tu command,
JONATHAN SLICK.
P. S.--Don't forget to have my watch chain and things a hanging outside
of the vest, and put my two big rings with stones in 'em, on my left
hand. I say nothing, but there may be gals in New York that would like
tu see them are rings agin, but take them off from all the kivers you
send into these parts now, I tell you. J. S.
CONTENTS.
LETTER I. PAGE
First Impressions of New York--Visit to the Counting-room of a City
Cousin--Advice to his Clerk--Description of a City Residence and its
Inmates 13
LETTER II.
The Family Dinner and Effects of July Cider 23
LETTER III.
Jonathan visits the Express Office--Sensations on seeing himself in
Print 27
LETTER IV.
The Political Meeting and its Disasters 33
LETTER V.
A Little of Jonathan's Private Love Affairs 39
LETTER VI.
Jonathan's Opinions of Ministerial Interference--A Card of
Invitation, and an Evening Party at Cousin Beebe's, in which
Jonathan makes some Mistakes and a Lady Acquaintance 44
LETTER VII.
Scenes in Broadway--Jonathan's Interview with the Count and
Flirtations with Miss Miles 69
LETTER VIII.
The Morning Call--A Coquette's Dressing Room 78
LETTER IX.
A New York Parvenu--Jonathan's Account of his Cousin Jason Slick,
and how Jason was too lazy to work, and got rich on soft sodder--The
dinner of a Connecticut Coaster--A New York Coat of Arms, lions
couchant and levant--Yankee Ancestry--The way a Yankee speculates,
and gets up States, Railroads and Banks, by soft sodder 87
LETTER X.
New-Year's Calls--A real Yankee's New-Year's Treat of Dough-nuts and
Cider--Jonathan's ideas of the real difference between a real lady's
House and Furniture and the House of a stuck-up Parvenu--Jonathan's
ideas of Love and Ladies 99
LETTER XI.
Visit to the Park Theatre--First Impressions of the Poetry of
Motion, as written on the air, in the aerial feats of Mademoiselle
Celeste--First shock at the exhibition of a Ballet Costume
accompanied by the "twinkles" of Celeste's feet--with her pigeon
wings, double-shuffles, gallopades, and pirouettes 117
LETTER XII.
Jonathan receives an Invitation to a Fancy Ball--Dilemma about the
Dress--Choice of a Character, &c. 129
LETTER XIII.
Jonathan Slick and the Grand Fancy Ball--Jonathan in the character
of an Injun, and Cousin Beebe in the character of Jonathan--Cousin
Mary as Jonathan's Squaw--Jonathan among Kings and Queens,
Spaniards, Turks and Jews--Jonathan meets his pussey Cousin in the
character of a Turk--Jonathan cuts his pussey Cousin 133
LETTER XIV.
Advice to Jonathan from the Humstead--Jonathan's Criticism on his
Brother Sam's book--The Ennui of Jonathan in good
Society--Jonathan's entree into a Milliner's Establishment, and sad
mistake about a Side-saddle 143
LETTER XV.
Jonathan visits the Milliner Girl--Reflections about her Situation 154
LETTER XVI.
In which Jonathan shows up the Hardships of Sewing Girls--Describes
a Tammany Hall Ball--Milliner Aristocracy and Exclusiveness--Informs
the reader how Miss Josephine Burgess took a tall man with whiskers
into her Establishment, who took her in in return--The desperation
of a little Apothecary--His Marriage, and the Ascent of Miss
Josephine Burgess from the front store to a work room a little
higher up 156
LETTER XVII.
Jonathan gets Ill and Homesick--Resists all entreaties to go to
Washington, and resolves on going back to "the Humstead" with
Captain Doolittle 173
LETTER XVIII.
Jonathan's Arrival in New York from the Onion Beds at
Weathersfield--Jonathan puts up at the Astor House--His notion of
that great Heap of Stones--Jonathan's Ideas of a New York Cab, and
the usual quarrel of a Stranger with Cabmen--A Sensation is created
at the Astor 180
LETTER XIX.
A live Yankee and the Parisian Danseuse--Fanny sends her Card and
Jonathan makes a call--Down East Yankee and French-English rather
hard to be understood--Jonathan quite killed off by Fanny's Curchies
and Dimples--A little sort of a Flirtation--An Invitation to see
Fanny in Nathalie, which is accepted 188
LETTER XX.
Jonathan goes to the Express Office--His Opinion of Zeke Jones and
the "Brother Jonathan" Newspaper--Explains his Absence, and enters
into a new Agreement with the Editors 197
LETTER XXI.
Jonathan Visits Mr. Hogg's Garden and gets a Bouquet--Puzzled about
the propriety of Paying for it--Purchases a Ribbon, and starts for
the Theatre 202
LETTER XXII.
Jonathan gives a Description of the Theatre, Private Boxes, Drop
Scene, &c.--His Ideas of _Miss_ Elssler's Dancing, and Dancing Girls
in general--Jonathan mistakes Williams in his Comic Song of "Old
Maids and Old Bachelors to Sell," for an Auctioneer who is knocking
off "La Belle Fanny," to the Highest Bidder--Jonathan is indignant
that she is not his, after so much hard bidding, by winks, &c.--He
flings his Bouquet at Fanny's Feet--Jonathan's Visit Behind the
Scenes, and his Idea of Things seen there--Gallants Fanny home to
the Astor House 206
LETTER XXIII.
Jonathan gets out of love with Fanny Elssler--Doctors the Ague in
her Face and Leaves her--Receives an Invitation from his Pussey
Cousin to a Thanksgiving Dinner, with a three cornered Note for Lord
Morpeth--Jonathan's Opinion of the Travelling Lords and Democratic
Hospitality 220
LETTER XXIV.
Description of Cousin Jason's Equipage--Figure cut by Mrs. Jason
Slick and her Daughter--Manners of a Noble Lord--The Dinner--Jason
boasts of his Birth, Heraldry, and Coat of Arms--Jonathan creates
great Consternation by proclaiming the Head of the Family as a
Shoemaker--Makes a Speech 224
LETTER XXV.
Jonathan rides to Mill--The Millerite Excitement--His Marm waits for
the World to come to an End--Letter from New York--The old White
Horse 244
LETTER XXVI.
Jonathan arrives in New York--Travels on the Deacon's Mare--Has
Trouble with the Colt--Embarks from Peck Slip, on Capt. Doolittle's
Sloop, to meet the President--His Introduction--Jonathan's Idea of
the Cold Collation--The Reception--Landing at Castle Garden--Review
of the Troops--The Procession, &c. 252
LETTER XXVII.
Jonathan attends the President at the Howard House--Visits the Park
Theatre with the President and his Handsome Girl--Goes with Mr.
Robert Tyler to have his Hair Cut at Clairhugh's--Takes Refreshments
with the Ladies at the Howard House--Bed-chamber Scene with the
President--Serenade, &c. 268
LETTER XXVIII.
Jonathan goes to see Mr. Macready--Description of the
Theatre--Introduces himself to a Handsome Girl at the
Theatre--Enters into a Flirtation--Promises to Visit her--Jonathan
takes a Novel Method of providing himself with a Fashionable
Dress--Quarrels with Captain Doolittle--Is reconciled, and starts
off to make a Morning Call on the Handsome Girl 272
LETTER XXIX.
Jonathan Visits the Handsome Girl--Describes a Gambling-House in the
Morning before it is put to rights--Visits the Lady's
Boudoir--Describes the Furniture, the Lady, her Dress, and
Conversation--Is Interrupted by the Gentleman of the House--And
leaves with a promise to return and escort Miss Sneers to Mad.
Castellan's Concert 275
LETTER XXX.
The Gambling House--Jonathan is taken in with Cards 285
_High Life in New York._
* * * * *
LETTER I.
First Impressions of New York--Visit to the Counting-room of a City
Cousin--Advice to his Clerk--Description of a City Residence and its
Inmates.
To Mr. Zepharia Slick, Justice of the Peace, and Deacon of the Church,
over to Weathersfield, in the State of Connecticut:
DEAR PAR:
I arrived here safe and sound, arter a long and tedious voyage down the
river and along shore to this place. The Captain left me to navigate the
sloop purty much alone. The lazy coot did nothing on arth but eat raw
turnips and drink cider brandy all the way down. I'll be whipped if he
warn't more than half corned the hull time. Now it's my opinion that the
best thing you can do with that chap is to send him eend foremost about
his business jest as quick as he gits back. He don't arn salt to his
porrage, nor never did. The first thing I did arter the sloop was hauled
up to the wharf at Peck slip, was to go down to the stores about Fulton
market and peddle off the cider brandy and garden sarce. Captain
Doolittle wanted to go with me, but you sent me down here as a sort of a
supercargo, and I warn't likely to let him stick his nose into my
business.
By gracious, if it didn't make me stare to see the purty gals and the
harnsome married wimmen a walking up and down the market among the heaps
of beets and cabbages. They looked around mighty knowing, and I rather
guess I got my share of attention; but somehow it made me feel kinder
streaked to have them a looking at me so steady, for I hadn't nothing on
but my every day clothes, besides, the stock that marm made me out of
her old bombasine petticoat, propped up my chin so that I couldn't a
stooped to look into a woman's face if I'd a wanted tu ever so much. I
do believe marm and Judy White must a put more than a peck of tatur
starch into the lining. It's allfired stiff, that's a fact.
Wal, I sold out the lading to purty good advantage, considering the
times. Then I went down to the sloop, and slicked up in my Sunday
clothes and started off full chisel to go and see cousin John Beebe.
They told me that he kept store away down Pearl street, eenamost to the
Battery; so I went on, as fast as I could git along through the boxes
and barrels that lay in the street, till I come to a great high brick
store that had cousin John's name over the door. It seems that John has
gone into partnership with a Mr. Co, for that feller's name is on the
sign arter his'n as large as life. I knew that he and John Wheeler went
into company together, but I suppose they wanted more chink than either
on 'em could raise, and so engaged this Mr. Co to help 'em along.
I swan if it warn't enough to make a feller dry to see the hogsheads of
rum and molasses, and the heaps of tea boxes and sugar barrels, piled up
inside the store; it looked like living, I can tell you. I went through
clear to the other eend of the store, for they told me that cousin John
was in the counting-room, away back there.
Wal, I got into the counting-room at last, and a harnsome little room it
was, all carpeted and fixed out like some of our best rooms in
Connecticut. I hain't seen so purty a store scarce ever. John wasn't
there, but I could see that he hadn't got over all his old tricks, for a
lot of chestnut shells were trod down round the stove, and there wasn't
a few empty bottles standing round under the table and back of the
desks. It was enough to turn one's stomach to look at the spit box; it
was more than half filled up with pieces of segars, and ends of tobacco,
that looked as if they had been chawed over a dozen times or more. I
don't see where cousin John got that trick of smoking and chawing; I
defy any body to say he larned it in old Connecticut. They needn't talk
to us about the Yankees, for these Yorkers beat us all holler in them
things; I hain't forgot the time when John would a turned up his nose at
a long nine, as if it had a been pison, but now he's sot himself up for
a gentleman there is no knowing what he hain't taken tu.
There was a chap standing by one of the desks, with the edge of his
dickey turned over his stock--like an old-fashioned baby's bib, put on
wrong side afore--and with his hair curled and frizzled up like a gal's.
I knew in a minit that this feller couldn't be cousin John, so I went up
to him, and sez I:--
"Friend, can you tell me when Mr. Beebe 'ill be in?" The chap took a
watch out of his vest pocket about as big as a ninepence, and sez he--
"I don't know positively, but I s'pose in the course of half an hour or
so. It's about time for the banks to close."
"Wal," sez I, "I s'pose I may as well wait for him, as I ain't in much
of a hurry jest now." So I sot down in a chair, and arter histing my
sole leather onto the top of the stove, I begun to scrape acquaintance
with the chap, as I went along.
"Tough times with you marchants, now, ain't they?" sez I, a looking over
the top of the paper.
"Very," sez he, a mending his pen. "It's as much as we can du to make
both eends meet afore the bank's shut up days. Mr. Beebe's out a
shinning now."
"A what?" sez I.
"A shinning," says he--"borrowing money to take up his own notes with,
and if he don't get it, I don't know what we _shall du_."
"Oh!" sez I to myself, "this is the new partner, Mr. Co; he must have a
good chance of money in the consarn, or he wouldn't feel so oneasy."
"We was doing a beautiful business," sez he, a shaking his head, "till
some of the banks stopped specie payments. I wish they'd a been sunk."
"No," sez I, "that ain't fair, but it's human natur, I s'pose to give
banks as well as people, a helping kick when they're going down hill. I
don't understand much of these things, Mr. Co."
"My name isn't Co," sez he, a staring; "it's Smith."
"What," sez I, "have they got another in the company?"
"No," sez he, kinder coloring up; "I'm the assistant bookkeeper."
I couldn't but jest keep from giving a long whistle right out, the stuck
up varmint! "Wal," sez I, arter a minit, "Mr. Smith, let me give you one
piece of advice--don't be so ready to say _we_, and to talk over your
employers' business with strangers next time. Such things do no good any
way, but they may do a good deal of harm. It's the duty of a clark,
among us, to attend to that he's paid for, and if he attends to much
else, we purty ginerally find out that he ain't good for much in the
long run."
You never saw a feller look so mean as he did when I said this; he
turned all manner of colors, and acted mad enough to eat me. I didn't
seem to mind him, but took up a newspaper and begun to read, jest as if
he wasn't in the room; and by-am-by I got so deep in the paper, that I
forgot all about him or cousin Beebe either.
Look a-here, Par, if you hain't seen the New York _Evening Express_,
jest stretch your purse-strings a leetle, and subscribe for it. It's a
peeler of a paper, I can tell you. You needn't take my word for it
though, for I've made this letter so tarnal long, that it'd cost more
than the price of a paper a hull year to pay the postage, so I've a
notion to git the editors to print this for me in their primest evening
paper, and so you'll git my letters and paper tu, all for five cents.
I'll jest give you a little notion how they make the _Express_, for I
read it eenamost through, afore cousin John come. The editors get all
the papers in the country together, jest as we pick out our apples in
cider time, and they go to work and git all that's worth reading out on
'em, and put it all in one great paper, which they sell for two cents;
so that a feller can know what's said by every editor North and South,
on one side and t'other, without the trouble of reading but one
paper;--jest as we can git the juice of a bushel of apples all in a pint
of cider, after it's once been through the mill. I raly think it's one
of the best plans I ever heard on, and I'm so sartin that every body
will take it by-am-by, that I've a notion that if you'd jest as livs let
me throw up the onion trade, I'll try and get in to write for it, but
we'll talk all that over by-am-by, arter I've seen the editors. Major
Jack Downing is writing for them already, and perhaps--but I hain't made
up my mind about it yit, though I kept a thinking it over all the while
I was a reading in the counting-room.
Wal, I was jest taking a dive inter the advertisements, when cousin John
came in. I raly believe you wouldn't know the critter, he's altered so.
He's grown as fat and pussy as old lawyer Sikes in our parts, but I raly
think he looks better for it. I tell you what, his clothes must cost him
a few. He had on a superfine broadcloth coat, that didn't cost a whit
less than ten dollars a yard, I wouldn't be afraid to bet a cookey. You
could a seen your face in his boots, and his hair was parted on the top
of his head, and hung down on the sides of his face and all over his
coat collar, till he looked more like a woman in men's clothes than any
thing else. I thought I should a haw-hawed out a larfin, all I could du,
though it made me kinder wrathy to see a feller make such an etarnal
coot of himself. I thought I'd see if he'd know me agin, so I on'y jist
crossed one foot over t'other on the top of the stove, and tipt my chair
back on its hind legs, and kept on reading as independent as a
corkscrew, jest ter see how he'd act.
Wal, he cum right up to the stove, and took his coat tail under his
arms, and begun to whistle as if there warn't nobody in the room. Once
in a while as I took a peek over the top of the paper, I could see that
he was a looking at me kinder sideways, as if he couldn't exactly make
up his mind whether he knew me or not. I felt my heart kinder rising up
in my throat, for it put me in mind of old times when we used to weed
onions and slide down hill together. At last I couldn't stand it no
longer, so I jumped up and flung down the paper, and, says I, "Cousin
Beebe, how do you du?"
He stared like a stuck pig at fust, but I raly believe the feller was
glad to see me when he found out who I was, for he shook my hand like
all natur. Sez he, "Mr. Slick," sez he, "I'm glad to see you down in the
city; how's the deacon, and aunt Eunice, and the Mills gals? You see I
han't forgot old times."
With that we sot into a stream of talk about Weathersfield people, and
so on that lasted a good two hours, by the town clock. Arter a while
cousin John took out his watch, all gold inside and out, and sez he,
"Come, Mr. Slick, it's about four o'clock--go up and take a family
dinner with us."
I rather guess I stared a few, to think of being axed to eat dinner at
that time o' day; but as I hadn't eat any thing but a cold bite aboard
the sloop since morning, the thoughts of a good warm dinner warn't by no
means to be sneezed at.
"Better late than never," sez I to myself, arter I had put on my hat and
stuck my hands in my pantaloons' pockets ready for a start. But jest as
we wur a going out, there come a feller in to talk over some bisness
matters, so sez Cousin Beebe, sez he--
"Here, Mr. Slick, is the number of our house--supposin you go along and
tell Mrs. Beebe that I'll be home as soon as I can get through a little
bisness--she wont make a stranger of you."
"I rather guess she won't," sez I, a taking the little piece of paper
which he'd been a writing on; "if she does there must a been an almighty
change in her since we used to go to singing school and apple bees
together."
John looked kind a skeery toward the stranger, and begun to fidget
about; so I told him I could find the way and made myself scarce in less
than no time--for I thought as like as not the feller cum to git him to
put his name to a note, or something of that sort; so I thought I'd give
him a chance to say no, if he wanted tu.
By gracious! Par, I'd give a quart of soap if you and marm could a been
with me in Broadway as I went along. I couldn't help stopping eenamost
every other minit to look into the winders.
Some of them was chuck full of watches and ear-rings, and silver spoons
spread all out like a fan, and lots on lots of finger rings all stuck
over a piece of black cloth to make 'em shine. I'll be darned if it
didn't make my eyes ache as if I'd been snow blind a week, only jest to
look at 'em as I went along! I stopped into one store jest by the Park,
and bought a silver thimble for marm, and it was as much as I could du
to keep from going into one of the stores where I saw such a heap of
calicos, to git her a new gown tu. But I can't begin to write more than
a priming of what a feller may see as he goes up Broadway. It fairly
made me ashamed of our horses, old Polly in perticlar, when I saw the
harnsome critters that the niggers drive about them coaches with here. I
tell you what, they make a glistening and a shining when they go through
the streets chuck full of gals all in their feathers and furbelows! That
Broadway _is_ a leetle lengthy, and no mistake. I believe I footed it
more than two miles on them tarnal hard stun walks, afore I got to Bond
street, where Cousin Beebe lives, I swan! I thought my feet would a
blistered.
Wal, arter all, I thought I never should a got into the house when I did
git to it. It was so allfired high, and a heap of stun steps went up to
the door, with a kind of picket fence made out of iron, all _curlecued_
over on the sides. I looked all over the door for a knocker, but
couldn't find nothing in the shape of one, only a square chunk of
silver, with cousin Beebe's name writ on it. I rapped with my fist till
the skin eenamost peeled off my knuckles, but nobody seemed to hear, and
I begun to think the folks warn't to hum, and that I should lose my
dinner arter all. I was jest beginning to think it best to make tracks
for Peck slip agin, when a feller come by and kinder slacked tackle, and
looked as if he was a going to speak.
"Look a here, you, sir," sez I, "can you tell me whether the folks that
live here are to hum or not? I can't make nobody hear."
"Why don't you ring the bell?" sez he, a looking at me as if he never
see a man afore.
I went down the steps and looked up to the ruff of the house, but it was
so darned high that I couldn't a seen anything in the shape of a belfry
if there'd been a dozen on 'em.
"I'll be darned if I can see any bell," sez I to the man, and then he
kinder puckered up his mouth, and looked as if he was a going to larf
right out.
"You seem to be a stranger in the city," sez he, a trying to bite in,
for I s'pose he see that my dander was a gitting up.
"Yes," sez I, "I am, and what of that?"
"Oh, nothing," sez he, a hauling in his horns quite a considerable.
"Jest pull that little silver knob there, and I rather think you can
make them hear."
With that I went up the steps agin, and give the knob, as he called it,
an almighty jerk, for I felt a little riled about being larfed at. It
warn't half a jiffy afore the door was opened, and a great strapping
nigger stood inside, staring at me as if he meant to swaller me hull,
without vinegar or gravy sarce.
"Wal," sez I, "you snowball you, what are you staring at? Why don't you
git out of the way and let me cum in?"
"Who do you want?" sez he, without so much as moving an inch--the
impudent varmint.
"What's that to you, you darned lump of charcoal?" sez I; "jest you mind
your own bisness and git out of the door." With that I give him a shove
and went into the entry-way. When the nigger had picked himself up agin,
I told him to go and tell Miss Beebe that her cousin Jonathan Slick,
from Weathersfield, Connecticut, wanted to see her.
I wish you could a seen how the feller showed the whites of his eyes
when I said this. I couldn't keep from larfin to see him a bowing and
scraping to me.
"Jest step into the drawing-room," sez he, a opening a door; "I will
tell Miss Beebe that you are here."
By the living hokey! I never stepped my foot in such a room as that in
all my born days. I raly thought my boot was a sinking inter the floor,
the carpet was so thick and soft. It seemed jest like walking over the
onion patches, when they've jest been raked and planted in the spring
time. The winder curtains were all yaller silk with a great heap of blue
tossels hanging round the edges, and there was no eend to the little
square benches, about as big as marm's milking stool, all kivered over
with lambs and rabbits a sleeping among lots of flowers, as nat'ral as
life. The backs of the chairs were solid mahogany or cherry-tree wood,
or something like it, and they were kinder rounded off and curled in
like a butter scoop turned handle downward. Then there were two chairs,
all stuffed and kivered with shiney black cloth, with a great long
rocker a poking out behind, and on the mantle shelf was something that I
couldn't make out the use on--it was a heap of stuff that looked like
gold, with a woman, all kivered over with something that made her shine
like a gilt button, lying on the top. I wanted to finger it awfully, but
there was a glass thing put over it, and I couldn't; but I hadn't pecked
about long afore I found out that it was one of these new-fashioned
clocks that we've heard about; but it's no more like them clocks that
our Samuel peddles, than chalk is like cheese.
There were two other things, kinder like the clock, on both eends of the
mantle shelf, but they warn't nigh so big, and they hadn't no pointers
nor no woman on the top, and instead of the glass kiver there was long
chunks o' glass hanging down all round them, like icicles round the nose
of our pump in the winter time. I give one on 'em a little lift jest to
find out what it was, but the glasses begun to gingle so that it scared
me out of a year's growth, and I sot down agin mighty quick, I can tell
you.
Wal, arter a while I begun to grow fidgety, so I sot down on a settee
all kivered over with shiney cloth like the chairs, but I guess I hopped
up agin spry enough. I never saw anything giv as the seat did, I thought
at first that I was a sinking clear through to the floor, clothes and
all. It makes me fidgety to be shut up in a room alone, so I begun to
fix a little; but all I could du, them new cassimere pantaloons, that
Judy White made for me, would keep a slipping up eenamost to the top of
my boots. I don't see how on arth the chaps in New York keep their
trousers' legs down so slick; one would think they had been dipped into
'em as marm makes her taller candles, they fit so.
Wal, arter I'd worked long enough on the tarnal things, I went up to a
whapper of a looking-glass, that reached eenamost from the top to the
bottom o' the room, and jest took a peep at a chap about my size on
t'other side. I tell you what it is, the feller there warn't to be
sneezed at on a rainy day, if he did cum from the country; though for a
sixfooter he looked mighty small in that big looking-glass. I guess
you'd a larfed to a seen him trying to coax his dickey to curl over the
edge of that plaguey stiff bombazine stock that marm made, and to a seen
him a pulling down them narrer short risbands so as to make them stick
out under his cuff, and a slicking down his hair on each side of his
face with both hands; but it wouldn't stay though. Nothing on arth but
a hog is so contrary as a feller's hair, when it once gits to sticking
up, I du think.
I'd fixed up purty smart, considering, and was jest sticking my
breast-pin a leetle more in sight, when the door opened and cousin Mary
come in. If I hadn't expected it was her, I'm sartin I shouldn't a known
her no more than nothing, she was so puckered up. She had on a silk
frock ruffled round the bottom, and her hair hung in great long black
curls down her neck, eenamost to her bosom, and she had a gold chain
wound all round her head, besides one a hanging about her neck, and her
waist warn't bigger round than a pint cup. I never was so struck up in
my life, as I was tu see her. Instid of coming up and giving me a good
shake o' the hand or a buss--there wouldn't a been any harm in't as we
were cousins--she put one foot for'ard a little and drew t' other back
kind o' catecornering, and then she sort o' wriggled her shoulders, and
bent for'ard and made a curchy, city fashion. Sez I tu myself, "If
that's what you're up tu, I'll jest show you that we've had a dancing
school in Weathersfield since you left it, Miss Beebe." So I put out my
right foot and drew it up into the holler of t'other foot, and let my
arms drop down a sort a parpindicular, and bent for'ard--jest as a
feller shuts a jack knife when he's afeard of cutting his fingers--and
keeping my eyes fixed on her face, though I did have to roll 'em up a
leetle--I reckon I give her a purty respectable sample of a
Weathersfield bow to match her York curches.
"Pray be seated, Mr. Slick," sez she, a screwing her mouth up into a
sort of a smile; but when I saw how she was stuck up I warn't a-going to
be behind hand with her, so I puckered up my mouth tu, though it was
awful hard work, and sez I, "arter you is manners for me, Miss Beebe."
With that she sot down in one of the rocking-chairs and stuck her elbow
on her arm and let her head drop into her hand as if she warn't more
than half alive, and sez she--
"Take an ottoman, Mr. Slick."
I guess I turned red enough, for I hadn't no idee what she ment, but I
sot down on one of the foot-stools at a ventur, and then she said,
"How do Mr. and Mrs. Slick du? I hope they're well."
I felt my ebenezer a gitting up to hear her call her husband's own uncle
and aunt sich stuck up names, and sez I,
"Your uncle and aunt are purty smart, so as to be jogging about, thank
you, Miss Beebe." I hadn't but jest got the words out of my mouth when
there was a bell rung so as to make me jump up, and in a minit arter
cousin John come in.
Your loving son,
JONATHAN SLICK.
* * * * *
LETTER II.
The Family Dinner and Effects of July Cider.
DEAR PAR:
"Wal, I see you've found the way, cousin Slick," sez he. "Mary, my dear,
is dinner ready?"
She hadn't time to speak before two great doors slid into the partition,
and there was another room jest as much like the one we was in, as two
peas in a pod. A table was sot in the middle of the room, all kivered
with rale China dishes, and first rate glass tumblers, and a silver
thing to set the pepper box in--you hain't no idee how stilish it was.
But as true as you live, there stood that etarnal nigger, close by the
table, as large as life. I didn't know what to make on it, but sez I to
myself, if cousin John's got to be an abolitionist and expects me to eat
with a nigger, he'll find himself mistaken, I'll be darned to darnation
if he don't! But I needn't a got so wrathy; the critter didn't offer to
set down, he only stood there to git anything that we wanted.
"Do you take verminsilly, Mr. Slick?" says Miss Beebe, biting off her
words as it she was afraid they'd burn her. With that she took the kiver
off one of the dishes, and begun to ladle out some soup with a great
silver dipper as bright as a new fifty cent piece.
"No, thank you," says I, "but I'll take some of that are soup instead,
if you've no objection." The critter was jest beginning to pucker up
her mouth again, as if she'd found out something to poke fun at, but
cousin John looked at her so etarnal cross that she was glad to choke
in. I s'pose cousin John see that I felt dreadful oneasy, so he said,
kind a coaxing,
"She meant verminsilly soup, cousin Slick. Let her help you to some, I'm
sartin you'll like it."
"Wal," says I, "I don't care if I du." So I took up a queer looking
spoon that lay by my plate, and tried to eat, but all I could du, the
soup would keep a running through the spoon into the dish agin. I tried
and tried to git one good mouthful, but I might jest as well have
detarmined to dip up the Connecticut river in a sieve, and the most I
could git was two or three sprangles of little white things that I
stirred up from the bottom of the plate, that didn't taste bad, but to
save my life I couldn't make out what they were made out on. Arter I'd
been a fishing and diving ever so long, a trying to git one good
spoonful, so that I could tell what it was, I looked up, and there was
the nigger showing his teeth, and rolling about his eyes, like a black
cat in the dark. It made me wrathy, for I surmized that he was a larfing
to see me a working so hard to git a mouthful of something to eat. I
couldn't hold in any longer, so I jumped up and flung down the spoon
upon the floor, as spiteful as could be, and sez I to the nigger, sez I,
"What do you stand a grinning at there, woolly head? go and git me a
spoon that hain't got no slits in it, I'd as lief eat with a rake as
that are thing."
"Ha, ha, haw," larfed out the etarnal black varmint, "I thought you
would not make the fork hold."
With that Miss Beebe giggled right out, and cousin John looked as if he
would a burst to keep from larfing too.
"Stop your noise, sir," says he to the nigger, "pick up the fork, and
give Mr. Slick a spoon."
I begun to feel awful streaked, I can tell you; but I sot down agin, and
took up the real spoon, which lay on a kind of towel folded up by my
plate, and I begun to eat, without saying a word, though I'd gin a
silver dollar if they would a let me got up and licked the nigger.
Wal, arter I'd got a good mouthful of the soup, I couldn't make out
what it was made of, for I couldn't remember of ever seeing the name
Miss Beebe called it by, in the dictionary. Maybe it's Latin, says I, to
myself, and then I tried to think over what it could mean, and if nobody
had told me what the definition was in the Latin school which you sent
me tu there in Weathersfield. Verminsilly! Verminsilly! Verminsilly!
kept a running through my head all the time. I knew what silly meant
well enough, and then it popped into my head, all at once, that _vermin_
comes from the Latin _vermis_, which means worms. Worm soup! my
gracious, the very idee of it made me feel awful bad at the stomach! But
I might have known it by the looks, and I should if I'd ever heard of
sich a thing, for the little slim critters swimming round in the liquor,
looked as much like angle-worms biled down white as could be. Arter I
found out what it was made of, I rather guess they didn't catch me a
eating any more of their verminsilly soup; so I pushed it away half
across the table, and wiped my mouth purty considerably with my pocket
handkercher. The nigger took the whole on't away, and I declare I was
glad enough to get rid of it.
"What on arth have they put this towel here for?" says I to myself; and
then I stole a sly look over to cousin Beebe, to see if he'd got one, or
if they only gave towels to company. Cousin John had one jest like mine,
but he'd spread it out on his lap, so I jest took up mine and kivered
over my cashmeres with it tu.
Considering there was no onions on the table, I made out a purty fair
dinner. I was a beginning to think about moving when the nigger brought
a lot of blue glass bowls about half full of water, and sot one down by
each of us. What they could be for I hadn't the least notion, but I kept
a bright look out to see what cousin John did, and when I saw him dip
his fingers into his bowl and wipe 'em on a sort of red towel which the
nigger brought along with the bowls, I jest went over the manoeuvre as
natural as life.
Wal, while we were talking about the banks, and old times, and
Weathersfield folks dying off so, that coot of a nigger cleared the
table right off as slick as a whistle, and afore I hardly knew what the
fellow was up tu he come along and sot down a set of decanters, and two
cider bottles with the necks all covered over with sheet lead, and then
he brought two baskets made out of silver, one on 'em was filled chuck
full of oranges, and t'other was heaped up with great purple grapes; I
declare it eenamost made my mouth water to see the great bunches a
hanging over the edge of the basket. I'd jest put a whopper of a bunch
on the little Chena plate which the feller set for me, and was
considering whether it would be genteel to cut the grapes in tu with the
cunning little silver knife which was put by the plate, when all tu
once, pop went something, eenamost as loud as a pistol, close by me. I
jumped up about the quickest, I can tell you; but it was only the nigger
a opening one of the cider bottles; he poured out some for me in a great
long glass with a spindle neck, and I drunk it all at a couple of
swallers, without stopping to breath. By jingo! but it was capital
cider! arter I'd drunk one glass I begun tu feel as spry as a cricket.
"Here, snowball," says I, "give us another; these glasses are awful
small; now, I like to drink cider out of a pint mug."
"Take care," says cousin Beebe, "I'm afeard you'll find the cider, as
you call it, rather apt to get into your head."
"Not a bit of it," sez I, "I can stand a quart any day. Here, cousin
Mary, take another glass, you hain't forgot old times have you? though I
s'pose they don't have applecuts and quiltings here in York, du they?"
I don't remember what she said, but I know this, my eyes begun to grow
allfired bright, and afore I got up tu go hum that nigger must have put
more than twenty baskets of grapes on the table, and the oranges seemed
to grow bigger and bigger every minit, and I know there wur more than
three times as many glasses and decanters on the table, as there was at
fust.
I ruther think it was purty nigh tea time when I got up to go back to
the sloop agin. I insisted on giving cousin Mary a buss afore I went;
and I won't be sartin, but I kinder seem to remember shaking hands with
the nigger, consarn him, jest afore I went down the steps.
I don't feel very bright this morning, and I begin to think that maybe
I shall come back to Weathersfield arter all. The York cider don't seem
to agree with me. I've felt dredful peaked ever since I drunk it, and
kinder hum sick tu boot.
Your loving son,
JONATHAN SLICK.
* * * * *
LETTER III.
Jonathan visits the Express Office--Sensations on seeing himself in
print.
DEAR PAR:
Since I wrote my last letter there's been no eend to the things that
I've had to du. Arter thinking about it eenamost two nights, I about
made up my mind tu settle down here in York a spell, and send you a
grist of letters now and then, which I mean to git printed in the New
York Express, the way I told you of.
I've been up to see the editors, and they want me to stay properly, and
I don't think I shall ever git so good a chance to take up this literary
way of gitting a living, as they call it, if I don't snap at this offer
tu once.
I thought at first that I'd try some other newspaper, and see if I could
git a higher bid, but somehow I'd taken a shine to the Express, and
thought it wasn't worth while. It warn't because there wasn't papers
enough, for you can't step three steps here in York, without stumbling
over a little stuck up newspaper office. Besides, there's no eend to the
papers carried round in the streets. You can't go any where but some
little dirty shaver or other, about knee high to a toad, will stick a
paper out under your nose, and ask you to buy it, as crank as can be.
Somehow, it kinder seemed to me that the New York Express took the shine
off the papers that I'd seen among 'em all, though they was as thick as
toads arter a rain storm. I had a notion to write for it from the first,
because, think sez I, that prime feller, Major Jack Downing, writes a
good deal for it, and I rather think we shall hitch tackle like any
thing.
Wal, jest as soon as I made up my mind about it, I went right off, full
chisel, to the Express Office. I'd been round there once afore to put my
t'other letter into the Post Office, and so the minit I come to the
corner of Wall and Nassau Street, and saw a house with the "New York
Express Office" writ on the eend, I knew it was the office without
asking. So I crossed over, and kinder hung about a leetle, jest to make
my heart stop a beating so, afore I went in. I swanny if I ever felt so
in my life! I was so anxious about that long letter that I sent to them
to get printed for you, that I was dreadful loth to go in, and eenamost
made up my mind to turn about and make tracks for the sloop agin!
Wal, sez I to myself, it won't do any hurt jest to take a look about the
premises afore I go. A feller can find out a good deal about a man's
natur, by the looks of things about the place he lives in; so I drew up
before a board, all stuck over with picters, and pieces of old
newspaper, by the eend of the building, and putting my hands in my
pockets, I stood still, and looked up'ards to see what I could make out.
But instid of taking an observation of the premises, I begun to think
about the cattle and the spring shotes that Judy White used to take sich
care on, till the tears eenamost cum into my eyes, I was so humsick.
Wal, I was standing there on the stun walk, with both hands buried
considerable deep in my trousers' pockets, a looking up at the sign writ
out on the eend of the office, when a feller cum up and begun to read
the pieces of paper stuck on the board jest outside. So I wiped the
tarnal tears away with the cuff of my coat, for it made me feel kinder
cheap to have anybody see a fellow of my size boo-hooing in York streets
because he happened to think about hum and old times; and I got up a
leetle grit, and went right straight down into the office, for it's half
under ground. A chap that sot back of a sort of counter, where there was
a lot of papers folded up, lifted his head once, and went to writing
agin as if I warn't nobody.
"Do you print the Evening Express here?" sez I kinder low, for I felt so
dreadful anxious about the letter, that I was eenamost choked.
"Yes" sez he, a gitting up, "do you want one?"
"Wal, I don't care if I take one," sez I, a forking out a
four-pence-halfpenny from my trousers' pocket. "Anything
particular--that is purty smart in it to-day?"
"Nothing _very_ remarkable to-day," sez he, "but if you call to-morrow
we shall print a capital letter from one Mr. Jonathan Slick of
Weathersfield."