The Trotting Horse.
I was always well mounted; I am fond of a horse, and always piqued
myself on having the fastest trotter in the Province. I have made no
great progress in the world; I feel doubly, therefore, the pleasure
of not being surpassed on the road. I never feel so well or so
cheerful as on horseback, for there is something exhilirating in
quick motion; and, old as I am, I feel a pleasure in making any
person whom I meet on the way put his horse to the full gallop, to
keep pace with my trotter. Poor Ethiope! you recollect him, how he
was wont to lay back his ears on his arched neck, and push away from
all competition. He is done, poor fellow! the spavin spoiled his
speed, and he now roams at large upon "my farm at Truro." Mohawk
never failed me till this summer.
I pride myself--you may laugh at such childish weakness in a man
of my age--but still, I pride myself in taking the concert out of
coxcombs I meet on the road, and on the ease with which I can leave
a fool behind, whose nonsense disturbs my solitary musings.
On my last journey to Fort Lawrence, as the beautiful view of
Colchester had just opened upon me, and as I was contemplating its
richness and exquisite scenery, a tall, thin man, with hollow cheeks
and bright, twinkling black eyes, on a good bay horse, somewhat out
of condition, overtook me; and drawing up, said, "I guess you started
early this morning, sir?"
"I did, sir," I replied.
"You did not come from Halifax, I presume, sir, did you?" in a
dialect too rich to be mistaken as genuine Yankee. "And which way
may you be travelling?" asked my inquisitive companion.
"To Fort Lawrence."
"Ah!" said he, "so am I; it is in my circuit."
The word CIRCUIT sounded so professional, I looked again at him, to
ascertain whether I had ever seen him before, or whether I had met
with one of those nameless, but innumerable limbs of the law, who
now flourish in every district of the Province. There was a keenness
about his eye, and an acuteness of expression, much in favour of the
law; but the dress, and general bearing of the man, made against the
supposition. His was not the coat of a man who can afford to wear
an old coat, nor was it one of "Tempest and Moore's," that distinguish
country lawyers from country boobies. His clothes were well made,
and of good materials, but looked as if their owner had shrunk a
little since they were made for him; they hung somewhat loose on
him. A large brooch, and some superfluous seals and gold keys, which
ornamented his outward man, looked "New England" like. A visit to
the States, had perhaps, I thought, turned this Colchester beau
into a Yankee fop. Of what consequence was it to me who he was? In
either case I had nothing to do with him, and I desired neither his
acquaintance nor his company. Still I could not but ask myself, Who
can this man be?
"I am not aware," said I, "that there is a court sitting at this time
at Cumberland."
"Nor am I," said my friend. What, then, could he have to do with the
circuit? It occurred to me he must be a Methodist preacher. I looked
again, but his appearance again puzzled me. His attire might do--the
colour might be suitable--the broad brim not out of place; but there
was a want of that staidness of look, that seriousness of
countenance, that expression, in short, so characteristic of the
clergy.
I could not account for my idle curiosity--a curiosity which, in him,
I had the moment before viewed both with suspicion and disgust; but
so it was--I felt a desire to know who he could be who was neither
lawyer nor preacher, and yet talked of his circuit with the gravity
of both. How ridiculous, I thought to myself is this; I will leave
him. Turning towards him, I said, I feared I should be late for
breakfast, and must therefore bid him good morning. Mohawk felt
the pressure of my knees, and away we went at a slapping pace. I
congratulated myself on conquering my own curiosity, and on avoiding
that of my travelling companion. This, I said to myself, this is
the value of a good horse; I patted his neck; I felt proud of him.
Presently I heard the steps of the unknown's horse--the clatter
increased. Ah, my friend, thought I, it won't do; you should be well
mounted if you desire my company; I pushed Mohawk faster, faster,
faster--to his best. He outdid himself; he had never trotted so
handsomely, so easily, so well.
"I guess that is a pretty considerable smart horse," said the
stranger, as he came beside me, and apparently reined in, to prevent
his horse passing me; "there is not, I reckon, so spry a one on my
circuit."
Circuit or no circuit, one thing was settled in my mind; he was a
Yankee, and a very impertinent Yankee too. I felt humbled, my pride
was hurt, and Mohawk was beaten. To continue this trotting contest
was humiliating; I yielded, therefore, before the victory was
palpable, and pulled up.
"Yes," continued he, "a horse of pretty considerable good action,
and a pretty fair trotter, too, I guess." Pride must have a fall--I
confess mine was prostrate in the dust. These words cut me to
the heart. What! is it come to this, poor Mohawk, that you, the
admiration of all but the envious, the great Mohawk, the oracle
horse, the standard by which all other horses are measured--trots
next to Mohawk, only yields to Mohawk, looks like Mohawk--that you
are, after all, only a counterfeit, and pronounced by a straggling
Yankee to be merely "a pretty fair trotter!"
"If he was trained, I guess he might be made to do a little more.
Excuse me, but if you divide your weight between the knee and the
stirrup, rather most on the knee, and rise forward on the saddle, so
as to leave a little daylight between you and it, I hope I may never
ride this circuit again, if you don't get a mile more an hour out
of him."
What! not enough, I mentally groaned, to have my horse beaten, but
I must be told that I don't know how to ride him; and that, too, by
a Yankee! Aye, there's the rub--a Yankee what? Perhaps a half-bred
puppy, half Yankee, half Bluenose. As there is no escape, I'll try
to make out my riding master. "Your circuit?" said I, my looks
expressing all the surprise they were capable of--"your circuit,
pray what may that be?"
"Oh," said he, "the eastern circuit--I am on the eastern circuit,
sir."
"I have heard," said I, feeling that I now had a lawyer to deal with,
"that there is a great deal of business on this circuit. Pray, are
there many cases of importance?"
"There is a pretty fair business to be done, at least there has been,
but the cases are of no great value--we do not make much out of them,
we get them up very easy, but they don't bring much profit." What a
beast, thought I, is this! and what a curse to a country, to have
such an unfeeling pettifogging rascal practising in it--a horse
jockey, too--what a finished character! I'll try him on that branch
of his business.
"That is a superior animal you are mounted on," said I; "I seldom
meet one that can travel with mine."
"Yes," said he coolly, "a considerable fair traveller, and most
particular good bottom." I hesitated; this man who talks with such
unblushing effrontery of getting up cases, and making profit out of
them, cannot be offended at the question--yes, I will put it to him.
"Do you feel an inclination to part with him?"
"I never part with a horse sir, that suits me," said he. "I am fond
of a horse: I don't like to ride in the dust after every one I meet,
and I allow no man to pass me but when I choose." Is it possible, I
thought, that he can know me--that he has heard of my foible, and is
quizzing me, or have I this feeling in common with him?
"But," continued I, "you might supply yourself again."
"Not on this circuit, I guess," said he, "nor yet in Campbell's
circuit."
"Campbell's circuit--pray, sir, what is that?"
"That," said he, "is the western--and Lampton rides the shore
circuit; and as for the people on the shore, they know so little
of horses that, Lampton tells me, a man from Aylesford once sold a
hornless ox there, whose tail he had cut and nicked for a horse of
the goliah breed."
"I should think," said I, "that Mr. Lampton must have no lack of
cases among such enlightened clients."
"Clients, sir!" said my friend, "Mr. Lampton is not a lawyer."
"I beg pardon, I thought you said he rode the circuit."
"We call it a circuit," said the stranger, who seemed by no means
flattered by the mistake; "we divide the Province, as in the
Almanac, into circuits, in each of which we separately carry on
our business of manufacturing and selling clocks. There are few, I
guess," said the Clockmaker, "who go upon TICK as much as we do, who
have so little use for lawyers; if attornies could wind a man up
again, after he has been fairly run down, I guess they'd be a pretty
harmless sort of folks."
This explanation restored my good humour, and as I could not quit my
companion, and he did not feel disposed to leave me, I made up my
mind to travel with him to Fort Lawrence, the limit of his circuit.