A WOMAN’S HEART.
As we approached the eastern coast, “Eldad,” sais I, to the pilot, “is
there any harbour about here where our folks can do a little bit of
trade, and where I can see something of ‘Fishermen at home?’”
“We must be careful now how we proceed, for if the ‘Spitfire’ floats at
the flood, Captain Stoker will try perhaps to overhaul us.”
“Don’t we want to wood and water, and ain’t there some repairs
wanting,” sais I, and I gave him a wink. “If so we can put into port;
but I don’t think we will attempt to fish again within the treaty
limits, for it’s dangerous work.”
“Yes,” sais he, touching his nose with the point of his finger, “all
these things are needed, and when they are going on, the mate and I can
attend to the business of the owners.” He then looked cautiously round
to see that the captain was not within hearing.
“Warn’t it the ‘Black Hawk’ that was chased?” said he. “I think that
was our name then.”
“Why, to be sure it was,” said I.
“Well,” sais he, “this is the ‘Sary Ann’ of New Bedford now,” and
proceeding aft he turned a screw, and I could hear a board shift in the
stern. “Do you mind that?” said he: “well, you can’t see it where you
stand just now at present; but the ‘Sary Ann’ shows her name there now,
and we have a set of papers to correspond. I guess the Britisher can’t
seize her, because the ‘Black Hawk’ broke the treaty; can he?” And he
gave a knowing jupe of his head, as much as to say, ain’t that grand?
“Now our new captain is a strait-laced sort of man, you see; but the
cantin’ fellow of a master you had on board before, warn’t above a
dodge of this kind. If it comes to the scratch, you must take the
command again, for Cutler won’t have art nor part in this game; and we
may be reformed out afore we know where we are.”
“Well,” sais I, “there is no occasion, I guess; put us somewhere a
little out of sight, and we won’t break the treaty no more. I reckon
the ‘Spitfire,’ after all, would just as soon be in port as looking
after us. It’s small potatoes for a man-of-war to be hunting poor game,
like us little fore and afters.”
“As you like,” he said, “but we are prepared, you see, for the mate and
men understand the whole thing. It ain’t the first time they have
escaped by changing their sign-board.”
“Exactly,” said I, “a ship ain’t like a dog that can only answer to one
name; and ‘Sary Ann’ is as good as the ‘Black Hawk,’ every mite and
morsel. There is a good deal of fun in altering sign-boards. I
recollect wunst, when I was a boy, there was a firm to Slickville who
had this sign over their shop:
‘Gallop and More,
Taylors.’
“Well, one Saturday-night brother Josiah and I got a paintbrush, and
altered it in this way:
‘Gallop and 8 More
Taylors
Make a man.’
“Lord, what a commotion it made. Next day was Sunday; and as the folks
were going to church, they stood and laughed and roared like anything.
It made a terrible hulla-bulloo.
“‘Sam,’ said Minister to me, ‘what in natur is all that ondecent noise
about so near the church-door.’
“I told him. It was most too much for him, but he bit in his breath,
and tried to look grave; but I see a twinkle in his eye, and the corner
of his mouth twitch, the way your eyelid does sometimes when a nerve
gets a dancing involuntarily.
“‘A very foolish joke, Sam,’ he said; ‘it may get you into trouble.’
“‘Why, Minister,’ said I, ‘I hope you don’t think that—’
“‘No,’ said he, ‘I don’t think at all, I know it was you, for it’s just
like you. But it’s a foolish joke, for, Sam:
“‘Honour and worth from no condition rise—’
“‘Exactly,’ sais I.
“‘Stitch well your part, there all the honour lies.’
“‘Sam, Sam,’ said he, ‘you are a bad boy,’ and he put on a serious
face, and went in and got his gown ready for service.
“The ‘Sary Ann’ for the ‘Black Hawk,’” sais I to myself, “well that
ain’t bad either; but there are more chests of tea and kegs of brandy,
and such like, taken right by the custom-house door at Halifax in loads
of hay and straw, than comes by water, just because it is the
onlikeliest way in the world any man would do it. But it is only some
of the Bay of Fundy boys that are up to that dodge. Smugglers in
general haven’t the courage to do that. Dear me!” sais I to myself,
“when was there ever a law that couldn’t be evaded; a tax that couldn’t
be shuffled off like an old slipper; a prohibition that a smuggler
couldn’t row right straight through, or a treaty that hadn’t more holes
in it than a dozen supplemental ones could patch up? _It’s a high fence
that can’t be scaled, and a strong one that can’t be broke down. When
there are accomplices in the house, it is easier to get the door
unlocked than to force it. Receivers make smugglers. Where there are
not informers, penalties are dead letters._ The people here like to see
us, for it is their interest, and we are safe as long as they are
friendly. I don’t want to smuggle, for I scorn such a pettifogin’
business, as Josiah would call it; but I must and will see how the
thing works, so as to report it to the President.”
“Well, Eldad,” sais I, “I leave all this to you. I want to avoid a
scrape if I can, so put us in a place of safety, and be careful how you
proceed.”
“I understand,” said he. “Now, Mr Slick, look yonder,” pointing towards
the shore. “What is that?”
“A large ship under full sail,” said I, “but it is curious she has got
the wind off shore, and just dead on end to us.”
“Are you sure,” said he, “it is a ship, for if we get foul of her, we
shall be sunk in a moment, and every soul on board perish.”
“Is it a cruiser?” sais I; “because if it is, steer boldly for her, and
I will go on board of her and show my commission as an officer of our
everlastin’ nation. Captain,” said I, “what is that stranger?”
He paused for a moment, shaded his eyes with his hand, and examined
her. “A large square-rigged vessel,” he said, “under a heavy press of
canvas,” and resumed his walk on the deck.
After a while the pilot said: “Look again, Mr Slick, can you make her
out now?”
“Why,” sais I, “she is only a brigantine; but ask the skipper.”
He took his glass and scrutinized her closely, and as he replaced it in
the binnacle said: “We are going to have southerly weather I think; she
loomed very large when I first saw her, and I took her for a ship; but
now she seems to be an hermaphrodite. It’s of no consequence to us
however what she is, and we shall soon near her.”
“Beyond that vessel,” said the pilot, “there is a splendid harbour, and
as there has been a head wind for some time, I have no doubt there are
many coasters in there, from the masters of whom you can obtain much
useful information on the object of your visit, while we can drive a
profitable trade among them and the folks ashore. How beautifully these
harbours are situated,” he continued, “for carrying on the fisheries,
and Nova Scotian though I be, I must say, I do think in any other part
of the world there would be large towns here.”
“I think so too, Eldad,” sais I, “but British legislation is at the
bottom of all your misfortunes, after all, and though you are as lazy
as sloths, and as idle as that fellow old Blowhard saw, who lay down on
the grass all day to watch the vessels passing, and observe the motion
of the crows, the English, by breaking up your monopoly of
inter-colonial and West India trade and throwing it open to us, not
only without an equivalent, but in the face of our prohibitory duties,
are the cause of all your poverty and stagnation. They are rich and
able to act like fools if they like in their own affairs, but it was a
cruel thing to sacrifice you, as they have done, and deprive you of the
only natural carrying trade and markets you had. The more I think of it
the less I blame you. It is a wicked mockery to lock men up, and then
taunt them with want of enterprise, and tell them they are idle.”
“Look at that vessel again, Sir,” said Eldad; “she don’t make much
headway, does she?”
“Well, I took the glass again and examined her minutely, and I never
was so stumpt in my life.
“Pilot,” said I, “is that the same vessel?”
“The identical,” said he.
“I vow to man,” sais I, “as I am a livin’ sinner, that is neither a
ship, nor a brigantine, nor a hermaphrodite, but a topsail schooner,
that’s a fact. What in natur’ is the meanin’ of all this? Perhaps the
captain knows,” so I called him again.
“Cutler, that vessel is transmografied again,” sais I; “look at her.”
“Pooh,” said he, “that’s not the same vessel at all. The two first we
saw are behind that island. That one is nothing but a coaster. You
can’t take me in, Slick. You are always full of your fun, and taking a
rise out of some one or another, and I shall be glad when we land, you
will then have some one else to practise on.”
In a short time the schooner vanished, and its place was supplied by a
remarkable white cliff, which from the extraordinary optical delusion
it occasions gives its name to the noble port which is now called Ship
Harbour. I have since mentioned this subject to a number of mariners,
and have never yet heard of a person who was not deceived in a similar
manner. As we passed through the narrows, we entered a spacious and
magnificent basin, so completely land-locked that a fleet of vessels of
the largest size may lay there unmoved by any wind. There is no haven
in America to be compared with it.
“You are now safe,” said the pilot; “it is only twelve leagues from
Halifax, and nobody would think of looking for you here. The fact is,
_the nearer you hide the safer you be._”
“Exactly,” sais I; “what you seek you can’t find, but when you ain’t
looking for a thing, you are sure to stumble on it.”
“If you ever want to run goods, Sir,” said he, “the closer you go to
the port the better. Smugglers ain’t all up to this, so they seldom
approach the lion’s den, but go farther and fare worse. Now we may
learn lessons from dumb animals. They know we reason on probabilities,
and therefore always do what is improbable. “We _think_ them to be
fools, but they _know_ that we are. The fox sees we always look for him
about his hole, and therefore he carries on his trade as far from it,
and as near the poultry yard, as possible. If a dog kills sheep, and
them Newfoundlanders are most uncommon fond of mutton, I must say, he
never attacks his neighbour’s flock, for he knows he would be suspected
and had up for it, but sets off at night, and makes a foray like the
old Scotch on the distant borders.
“He washes himself, for marks of blood is a bad sign, and returns afore
day, and wags his tail, and runs round his master, and looks up into
his face as innocent as you please, as much as to say, ‘Squire, here I
have been watchin’ of your property all this live-long night, it’s
dreadful lonely work, I do assure you, and oh, how glad I am to see the
shine of your face this morning.’
“And the old boss pats his head, fairly took in, and says, ‘That’s a
good dog, what a faithful honest fellow you be, you are worth your
weight in gold.’
“Well, the next time he goes off on a spree in the same quarter, what
does he see but a border dog strung up by the neck, who has been seized
and condemned as many an innocent fellow has been before him on
circumstantial evidence, and he laughs and says to himself, ‘What fools
humans be, they don’t know half as much as we dogs do.’ So he thinks it
would be as well to shift his ground, where folks ain’t on the watch
for sheep-stealers, and he makes a dash into a flock still farther off.
“Them Newfoundlanders would puzzle the London detective police, I
believe they are the most knowin’ coons in all creation, don’t you?”
“Well, they are,” sais I, “that’s a fact, and they have all the same
passions and feelings we have, only they are more grateful than man is,
and you can by kindness lay one of them under an obligation he will
never forget as long as he lives, whereas an obligation scares a man,
for he snorts and stares at you like a horse at an engine, and is e’en
most sure to up heels and let you have it, like mad. The only thing
about dogs is, they can’t bear rivals, they like to have all attention
paid to themselves exclusively. I will tell you a story I had from a
British colonel.
“He was stationed in Nova Scotia, with his regiment, when I was a
venden of clocks there. I met him to Windsor, at the Wilcox Inn. He was
mightily taken with my old horse Clay, and offered me a most an
everlastin’ long price for him; he said if I would sell him, he
wouldn’t stand for money, for he never see such an animal in all his
born days, and so on. But old Clay was above all price, his ditto was
never made yet, and I don’t think ever will be. I had no notion to sell
him, and I told him so, but seein’ he was dreadful disappointed, for a
rich Englishman actually thinks money will do anything and get
anything, I told him if ever I parted with him he should have him on
condition he would keep him as long as he lived, and so on.
“Well, it pacified him a bit, and to turn the conversation, sais I,
‘Colonel,’ sais I, ‘what a most an almighty everlastin’ super superior
Newfoundler that is,’ a pointin’ to his dog; ‘creation,’ sais I, ‘if I
had a regiment of such fellows, I believe I wouldn’t be afraid of the
devil. My,’ sais I, ‘what a dog! would you part with him? I’de give
anything for him.’
“I said that a purpose to show him I had as good a right to keep my
horse as he had his long-haired gentleman.
“‘No,’ sais he, with a sort of half smile at my ignorance in pokin’
such a question at him (for a Britisher abroad thinks he has privileges
no one else has), ‘no, I don’t want to part with him. I want to take
him to England with me. See, he has all the marks of the true breed:
look at his beautiful broad forehead, what an intellectual one it is,
ain’t it? then see his delicate mouse-like ears, just large enough to
cover the orifice, and that’s all.’
“‘Orifice,’ said I, for I hate fine words for common use, they are like
go-to-meeting’ clothes on week days, onconvenient, and look too all
fired jam up. Sais I, ‘what’s that when it’s fried. I don’t know that
word?’
“‘Why, ear-hole,’ said he.
“‘Oh,’ sais I, simple like, ‘I take now.’
“He smiled and went on. ‘Look at the black roof of his mouth,’ said he,
‘and do you see the dew claw, that is a great mark? Then feel that
tail, that is his rudder to steer by when swimming. It’s different from
the tail of other dogs, the strength of that joint is surprising. But
his chest, Sir, his chest, see how that is formed on purpose for
diving. It is shaped internally like a seal’s. And then, observe the
spread of that webbed foot, and the power of them paddles. There are
two kinds of them, the short and the long haired, but I think those
shaggy ones are the handsomest. They are very difficult to be got now
of the pure breed. I sent to the Bay of Bulls for this one. To have
them in health you must make them stay out of doors in all weather, and
keep them cool, and above all not feed them too high. Salt fish seems
the best food for them, they are so fond of it. Singular that, ain’t
it? but a dog is natural, Sir, and a man ain’t.
“‘Now, you never saw a codfish at the table of a Newfoundland merchant
in your life. He thinks it smells too much of the shop. In fact, in my
opinion the dog is the only gentleman there. The only one, now that the
Indian is extinct, who has breeding and blood in that land of oil,
blubber, and icebergs.’
“Lord, I wish one of them had been there to have heard him, wouldn’t he
a harpooned him? that’s all. He made a considerable of a long yarn of
it, and as it was a text he had often enlarged on, I thought he never
would have ended, but like other preachers, when he got heated, spit on
the slate, rub it all out, and cypher it over again. Thinks I to
myself, I’ll play you a bit, my boy.
“‘Exactly,’ sais I, ‘there is the same difference in dogs and horses as
there is in men. Some are noble by nature, and some vulgar; each is
known by his breed.’
“‘True,’ said he, ‘very true,’ and he stood up a little straighter as
if it did him good to hear a republican say that, for his father was an
Earl. ‘A very just remark,’ said he, and he eyed me all over, as if he
was rather surprised at my penetration.
“‘But the worst of it,’ sais I, ‘is that a high bred dog or horse and a
high bred man are only good for one thing. A pointer will point—a blood
horse run—a setter will set—a bull dog fight—and a Newfoundlander will
swim; but what else are they good for? Now a duke is a duke, and the
devil a thing else. All you expect of him is to act and look like one
(and I could point out some that don’t even do that). If he writes a
book, and I believe a Scotch one, by the help of his tutor, did once,
or makes a speech, you say, Come now, that is very well for a duke, and
so on. Well, a marquis ain’t quite so high bred, and he is a little
better, and so on, downwards; when you get to an earl, why, he may be
good for more things than one. I ain’t quite sure a cross ain’t
desirable, and in that way that you couldn’t improve the intelligence
of both horses, noblemen, and dogs—don’t you think so, Sir?’ sais I.
“‘It is natural for you,’ said he, not liking the smack of democracy
that I threw in for fun, and looking uneasy. ‘So,’ sais he (by way of
turning the conversation), ‘the sagacity of dogs is very wonderful. I
will tell you an anecdote of this one that has surprised everybody to
whom I have related it.
“‘Last summer my duties led me to George’s Island. I take it for
granted you know it. It is a small island situated in the centre of the
harbour of Halifax, has a powerful battery on it, and barracks for the
accommodation of troops. There was a company of my regiment stationed
there at the time. I took this dog and a small terrier, called Tilt, in
the boat with me. The latter was a very active little fellow that the
General had given me a few weeks before. He was such an amusing
creature, that he soon became a universal favourite, and was suffered
to come into the house (a privilege which was never granted to this
gentleman, who paid no regard to the appearance of his coat, which was
often wet and dirty), and who was therefore excluded.
“‘The consequence was, Thunder was jealous, and would not associate
with him, and if ever he took any liberty, he turned on him and
punished him severely. This however he never presumed to do in my
presence, as he knew I would not suffer it, and therefore, when they
both accompanied me in my walks, the big dog contented himself with
treating the other with perfect indifference and contempt. Upon this
occasion, Thunder lay down in the boat and composed himself to sleep,
while the little fellow, who was full of life and animation, and
appeared as if he did not know what it was to close his eyes, sat up,
looked over the gunwale, and seemed to enjoy the thing uncommonly. He
watched the motions of the men, as if he understood what was required
of them, and was anxious they should acquit themselves properly.’
“‘He knew,’ said I, ‘it was what sailors call the _dog watch.’_
“‘Very _good,’_ said he, but looking all the time as if he thought the
interruption very _bad._
“‘After having made my inspection, I returned to the boat, for the
purpose of recrossing to the town, when I missed the terrier. Thunder
was close at my heels, and when I whistled for the other, wagged his
tail and looked up in my face, as if he would say, Never mind that
foolish dog, I am here, and that is enough, or is there anything you
want me to do?
“‘After calling in vain, I went back to the barracks, and inquired of
the men for Tilt, but no one appeared to have seen him or noticed his
motions.
“‘After perambulating the little island in vain, I happened to ask the
sentry if he knew where he was.
“‘Yes, Sir,’ said he, ‘he is buried in the beach.’
“‘Buried in the beach,’ said I, with great anger, ‘who dared to kill
him? Tell me, Sir, immediately.’
“‘That large dog did it, Sir. He enticed him down to the shore by
playing with him, pretending to crouch and then run after him; and then
retreating and coaxing him to chase him; and when he got him near the
beach, he throttled him in an instant, and then scratched a hole in the
shingle and buried him, covering him up with the gravel. After that he
went into the water, and with his paws washed his head and face, shook
himself, and went up to the barracks. You will find the terrier, just
down there, Sir.’
“‘And sure enough there was the poor little fellow, quite dead, and yet
warm.
“‘In the mean time Thunder, who had watched our proceedings from a
distance, as soon as he saw the body exhumed, felt as if there was a
court-martial holding over himself, plunged into the harbour and swam
across to the town, and hid himself for several days, until he thought
the affair had blown over; and then approached me anxiously and
cautiously, lest he should be apprehended and condemned. As I was
unwilling to lose both my dogs, I was obliged to overlook it, and take
him back to my confidence. A strange story, ain’t it, Mr Slick.’
“‘Well, it is,’ sais I, ‘but dogs do certainly beat all natur, that’s a
fact.’
“But to get back to the ‘Black Hawk:’ as soon as we anchored, I
proposed to Cutler that we should go ashore and visit the ‘natives.’
While he was engaged giving his orders to the mate, I took the
opportunity of inquiring of the pilot about the inhabitants. This is
always a necessary precaution. If you require light-houses, buoys, and
sailing directions to enter a port, you want similar guides when you
land. The navigation there is difficult also, and it’s a great thing to
know who you are going to meet, what sort of stuff they are made of,
and which way to steer, so as to avoid hidden shoals and sand-bars, for
every little community is as full of them as their harbour. It don’t
do, you know, to talk tory in the house of a radical, to name a bishop
to a puritan, to let out agin smugglin’ to a man who does a little bit
of business that way himself; or, as the French say, ‘to talk of a rope
in a house where the squatter has been hanged.’ If you want to please a
guest, you must have some of his favourite dishes at dinner for him;
and if you want to talk agreeably to a man, you must select topics he
has a relish for.
“So,” sais I, “where had we better go, Pilot, when we land?”
“Do you see that are white one-story house there?” said he. “That is a
place, though not an inn, where the owner, if he is at home, will
receive the likes of you very hospitably. He is a capital fellow in his
way, but as hot as pepper. His name is Peter McDonald, and he is
considerable well to do in the world. He is a Highlander; and when
young went out to Canada in the employment of the North-west Fur
Company, where he spent many years, and married, broomstick fashion, I
suppose, a squaw. Alter her death he removed, with his two half-caste
daughters, to St John’s, New Brunswick; but his girls I don’t think
were very well received, on account of their colour, and he came down
here and settled at Ship Harbour, where some of his countrymen are
located. He is as proud as Lucifer, and so are his galls. Whether it is
that they have been slighted, and revenge it on all the rest of the
world, I don’t know; or whether it is Highland and Indian pride mixed,
I ain’t sartified; but they carry their heads high, and show a stiff
upper lip, I tell you. I don’t think you will get much talk out of
them, for I never could.”
“Well, it don’t follow,” said I, “by no manner of means, Eldad, because
they wouldn’t chat to you, that they wouldn’t open their little mugs to
me. First and foremost recollect, Mr Nickerson, you are a married man,
and it’s no use for a gall to talk it into you; and then, in the next
place, you see you know a plaguey sight more about the shape, make, and
build of a craft like this than you do about the figure-head, waist,
and trim of a gall. You are a seaman, and I am a landsman; you know how
to bait your hooks for fish, and I know the sort of tackle women will
jump at. See if I don’t set their clappers a going, like those of a
saw-mill. Do they speak English?”
“Yes,” said he, “and they talk Gaelic and French also; the first two
they learned from their father, and the other in Canada.”
“Are they pretty?”
“The eldest is beautiful,” said he; “and there is something in her
manner you can’t help thinking she is a lady. You never saw such a
beautiful figure as she is in your life.”
Thinks I to myself, “that’s all you know about it, old boy.” But I
didn’t say so, for I was thinking of Sophy at the time.
We then pushed off, and steered for Peter McDonald’s, Indian Peter, as
the pilot said the fishermen called him. As we approached the house he
came out to meet us. He was a short, strong-built, athletic man, and
his step was as springy as a boy’s. He had a jolly, open, manly face,
but a quick, restless eye, and the general expression of his
countenance indicated at once good nature and irascibility of temper.
“Coot tay, shentlemen,” he said, “she is glad to see you; come, walk
into her own house.” He recognised and received Eldad kindly, who
mentioned our names and introduced us, and he welcomed us cordially. As
soon as we were seated, according to the custom of the north-west
traders, he insisted upon our taking something to drink, and calling to
his daughter Jessie in Gaelic, he desired her to bring whiskey and
brandy. As I knew this was a request that on such an occasion could not
be declined without offence, I accepted his offer with thanks, and no
little praise of the virtues of whiskey; the principal recommendation
of which, I said, “was that there was not a headache in a hogshead of
it.”
“She believes so herself,” he said, “it is petter ash all de rum,
prandy, shin, and other Yanke pyson in the States; ta Yankies are
cheatin smugglin rascals.”
The entrance of Jessie fortunately gave a turn to this complimentary
remark; when she set down the tray, I rose and extended my hand to her,
and said in Gaelic, “_Cair mur tha thu mo gradh_ (how do you do, my
dear), _tha mi’n dochas gam biel thu slan_ (I hope you are quite
well).”
The girl was amazed, but no less pleased. How sweet to the ear are the
accents of the paternal language, or the mother tongue as we call it,
for it is women who teach us to talk. It is a bond of union! Whoever
speaks it, when we are in a land of strangers, is regarded as a
relative. I shall never forget when I was in the bazaar at Calcutta,
how my heart leaped at hearing the voice of a Connecticut man as he was
addressing a native trader.
“Tell you what, stranger,” said he, “I feel as mad as a meat axe, and I
hope I may be darned to all darnation, if I wouldn’t chaw up your ugly
mummyised corpse, hair, hide, and hoof, this blessed minute, as quick
as I would mother’s dough-nuts, if I warn’t afraid you’d pyson me with
your atimy, I’ll be dod drotted if I wouldn’t.”
Oh, how them homespun words, coarse as they were, cheered my drooping
spirits, and the real Connecticut nasal twang with which they were
uttered sounded like music to my ears; how it brought up home and
far-off friends to my mind, and how it sent up a tear of mingled joy
and sadness to my eye.
Peter was delighted. He slapped me on the back with a hearty good will,
in a way nearly to deprive me of my breath, welcomed me anew, and
invited us all to stay with him while the vessel remained there. Jessie
replied in Gaelic, but so rapidly I could only follow her with great
difficulty, for I had but a smattering of it, though I understood it
better than I could speak it, having acquired it in a very singular
manner, as I will tell you by and by. Offering her a chair, she took it
and sat down after some hesitation, as if it was not her usual habit to
associate with her father’s visitors, and we were soon on very sociable
terms. I asked the name of the trading post in the north-west where
they had resided, and delighted her by informing her I had once been
there myself on business of John Jacob Astor’s New York Fur Company,
and staid with the Governor, who was the friend and patron of her
father’s. This was sufficient to establish us at once on something like
the footing of old friends. When she withdrew, Peter followed her out,
probably to give some directions for our evening meal.
“Well, well,” said the pilot, “if you don’t beat all! I never could get
a word out of that girl, and you have loosened her tongue in rale right
down earnest, that’s a fact.”
“Eldad,” sais I, “there is two sorts of pilotage, one that enables you
to steer through life, and another that carries you safely along a
coast, and there is this difference between them: This universal globe
is all alike in a general way, and the knowledge that is sufficient for
one country will do for all the rest of it, with some slight
variations. Now you may be a very good pilot on this coast, but your
knowledge is no use to you on the shores of England. A land pilot is a
fool if he makes shipwreck wherever he is, but the best of coast pilots
when he gets on a strange shore is as helpless as a child. Now a woman
is a woman all over the world, whether she speaks Gaelic, French,
Indian, or Chinese; there are various entrances to her heart, and if
you have experience, you have got a compass which will enable you to
steer through one or the other of them, into the inner harbour of it.
Now, Minister used to say that Eve in Hebrew meant talk, for providence
gave her the power of chattyfication on purpose to take charge of that
department. Clack then you see is natural to them; _talk therefore to
them as they like, and they will soon like to talk to you._ If a woman
was to put a Bramah lock on her heart, a skilful man would find his way
into it if he wanted to, I know. That contrivance is set to a
particular word; find the letters that compose it, and it opens at
once. The moment I heard the Gaelic, I knew I had discovered the
cypher—I tried it and succeeded. _Tell you what, Pilot, love and skill
laugh at locks, for them that can’t be opened can be picked. The
mechanism of the human heart, when you thoroughly understand it, is,
like all the other works of nature, very beautiful, very wonderful, but
very simple. When it does not work well, the fault is not in the
machinery, but in the management.”_