The Clock Maker.
I had heard of Yankee clock pedlars, tin pedlars, and
bible pedlars, especially of him who sold Polyglot Bibles
(ALL IN ENGLISH) to the amount of sixteen thousand pounds.
The house of every substantial farmer had three substantial
ornaments, a wooden clock, a tin reflector, and a Polyglot
Bible. How is it that an American can sell his wares, at
whatever price he pleases, where a Blue Nose would fail
to make a sale at all? I will enquire of the Clockmaker
the secret of his success. What a pity it is, Mr. SLICK,
(for such was his name,) what a pity it is, said I, that
you, who are so successful in teaching these people the
value of CLOCKS, could not also teach them the value of
TIME. I guess, said he, they have got that ring to grow
on their horns yet, which every four year old has in our
country. We reckon hours and minutes to be dollars and
cents. They do nothing in these parts, but eat, drink,
smoke, sleep, ride about, lounge at taverns, make speeches
at temperance meetings, and talk about "House of Assembly."
If a man don't hoe his corn, and he don't get a crop, he
says it is all owing to the Bank; and if he runs into
debt and is sued, why says the lawyers are a curse to
the country. They are a most idle set of folks, I tell
you. But how is it, said I, that you manage to sell such
an immense number of clocks, (which certainly cannot be
called necessary articles,) among a people with whom
there seems to be so great a scarcity of money.
Mr. Slick paused, as if considering the propriety of
answering the question, and looking me in the face, said,
in a confidential tone, Why, I don't care if I do tell
you, for the market is glutted, and I shall quit this
circuit. It is done by a knowledge of SOFT SAWDER and
HUMAN NATUR. But here is Deacon Flint's, said he, I have
but one clock left, and I guess I will sell it to him.
At the gate of a most comfortable looking farm house
stood Deacon Flint, a respectable old man, who had
understood the value of time better than most of his
neighbours, if one might judge from the appearance of
every thing about him. After the usual salutation, an
invitation to "alight" was accepted by Mr. Slick, who
said, he wished to take leave of Mrs. Flint before he
left Colchester. We had hardly entered the house, before
the Clockmaker pointed to the view from the window, and,
addressing himself to me, said, if I was to tell them in
Connecticut, there was such a farm as this away down east
here in Nova Scotia, they would'nt believe me--why there
aint such a location in all New England. The deacon has
a hundred acres of dyke--seventy, said the deacon, only
seventy. Well, seventy; but then there is your fine deep
bottom, why I could run a ramrod into it--Interval, we
call it, said the Deacon, who, though evidently pleased
at this eulogium, seemed to wish the experiment of the
ramrod to be tried in the right place--well interval if
you please, (though Professor Eleazer Cumstick, in his
work on Ohio, calls them bottoms,) is just as good as
dyke. Then there is that water privilege, worth 3 or
$4,000, twice as good as what Governor Cass paid $15,000
for. I wonder, Deacon, you don't put up a carding mill
on it: the same works would carry a turning lathe, a
shingle machine, a circular saw, grind bark, and ----.
Too old, said the Deacon, too old for all those
speculations--old, repeated the clock-maker, not you;
why you are worth half a dozen of the young men we see,
now-a-days, you are young enough to have--here he said
something in a lower tone of voice, which I did not
distinctly hear; but whatever it was, the Deacon was
pleased, he smiled and said he did not think of such
things now. But your beasts, dear me, your beasts must
be put in and have a feed; saying which, he went out to
order them to be taken to the stable. As the old gentleman
closed the door after him, Mr. Slick drew near to me,
and said in an under tone, that is what I call "SOFT
SAWDER." An Englishman would pass that man as a sheep
passes a hog in a pasture, without looking at him; or,
said he, looking rather archly, if he was mounted on a
pretty smart horse, I guess he'd trot away, IF HE COULD.
Now I find--here his lecture on "SOFT SAWDER" was cut
short by the entrance of Mrs. Flint. Jist come to say
good bye, Mrs. Flint. What, have you sold all your
clocks? yes, and very low, too, for money is scarce, and
I wished to close the concarn; no, I am wrong in saying
all, for I have just one left. Neighbor Steel's wife
asked to have the refusal of it, but I guess I won't sell
it; I had but two of them, this one and the feller of
it, that I sold Governor Lincoln. General Green, the
Secretary of State for Maine, said he'd give me 50 dollars
for this here one--it has composition wheels and patent
axles, it is a beautiful article--a real first chop--no
mistake, genuine superfine, but I guess I'll take it
back; and beside, Squire Hawk might think kinder harder,
that I did not give him the offer. Dear me, said Mrs.
Flint, I should like to see it, where is it? It is in a
chest of mine over the way, at Tom Tape's store, I guess
he can ship it on to Eastport. That's a good man, said
Mrs. Flint, jist let's look at it Mr. Slick, willing to
oblige, yielded to these entreaties, and soon produced
the clock--a gawdy, highly varnished, trumpery looking
affair. He placed it on the chimney-piece, where its
beauties were painted out and duly appreciated by Mrs.
Flint, whose admiration was about ending in a proposal,
when Mr. Flint returned from giving his directions about
the care of the horses. The Deacon praised the clock, he
too thought it a handsome one; but the Deacon was a
prudent man, he had a watch, he was sorry, but he had no
occasion for a clock. I guess you're in the wrong furrow
this time, Deacon, it ant for sale, said Mr. Slick; and
if it was, I reckon neighbor Steel's wife would have it,
for she gives me no peace about it. Mrs. Flint said, that
Mr. Steele had enough to do, poor man, to pay his interest,
without buying clocks for his wife. It's no concarn of
mine, said Mr. Slick, as long as he pays me, what he has
to do, but I guess I don't want to sell it, and beside
it comes too high; that clock can't be made at Rhode
Island under 40 dollars. Why it ant possible, said the
Clockmaker, in apparent surprise, looking at his watch,
why as I'm alive it is 4 o'clock, and if I hav'nt been
two hours here--how on airth shall I reach River Philip
to-night? I'll tell you what, Mrs. Flint, I'll leave the
clock in your care till I return on my way to the States
--I'll set it a going and put it to the right time. As
soon as this operation was performed, he delivered the
key to the deacon with a sort of serio-comic injunction
to wind up the clock every Saturday night, which Mrs.
Flint said she would take care should be done, and promised
to remind her husband of it, in case he should chance to
forget it.
That, said the Clockmaker as soon as we were mounted,
that I call 'HUMAN NATUR!' Now that clock is sold for 40
dollars--it cost me just 6 dollars and 50 cents. Mrs.
Flint will never let Mrs. Steel have the refusal--nor
will the deacon learn until I call for the clock, that
having once indulged in the use of a superfluity, how
difficult it is to give it up. We can do without any
article of luxury we have never had, but when once
obtained, it is not 'IN HUMAN NATUR' to surrender it
voluntarily. Of fifteen thousand sold by myself and
partners in this Province, twelve thousand were left in
this manner, and only ten clocks were ever returned--
when we called for them they invariably bought them. We
trust to 'SOFT SAWDER' to get them into the house, and
to 'HUMAN NATUR' that they never come out of it.