Whank!--tick-a-lick!--ker-thump!--swoosh!--Whank!--tick-a-lick!--
ker-thump!--swoosh!--These were the sounds that first greeted my opening
ears. So, then, we were fairly under way, advancing, if not rejoicing.
Our freighted Icarus was soaring on well-oiled wings: how soon might his
waxy pinions droop under the fierce gaze of the sun! At least it was a
satisfaction to know that thus far the gloomy forebodings of the Seer
had not been fulfilled. On looking out through a six-inch rose-window, I
saw joyous daylight dancing over the boundless, placid waters,--not a
speck of land in sight. We must have started long since; but my eyes,
fast sealed under the opiate rays of the Luminary, had hitherto refused
to ope their lids to the garish beams of his rival. Soon I heard beneath
a rustling snap, as of a bow, and suddenly there sped forth the twanging
shaft of the
_First Victim._--I say!
_Second Victim._--Very sensible, but brief. Give us another bit.
_First Victim._--How are ye this mornin'?
_Second Victim._--Utterly glorified. Delicious sleep,--splendid
day,--balmy air, with condiments thrown in. I hope you are nicely
to-day?
_First Victim._--Wal, no, can't say I be. Feel sort o' seedy like,--feel
jest 's ef I'd ben creouped up in a sugar-box. Couldn't even git a
cat-nap,--didn't sleep a wink.
_Second Victim._--That's bad, indeed; but the bracing air here will
soon----
_First Victim._--Air! That 'ere dock-smell nigh finished me. No
skim-milk smell about that, but the ginooine jam,--an awful pooty
nosegay! 'T was reg'lar rank p'is'n. Never see anythin' like it. Oh,
'twas te'ble! Took hold o' my nose dreffle bad; I'm afeard my stomach'll
be a goner. 'T wa'n't none o' yer sober perfumes nuther, but kind o'
half-seas-over all the time, an' pooty consid'able in the wind. Judge
there's ben a large fatality in cats lately. Ugh! that blamed
dock-smell! Never forgit it the longest day I live. Don't b'lieve I
breathed oncet all night.
_Second Victim._--Yes, it was slightly aromatic, I confess,--'Sabaean
odors from the spicy shores of Araby the Blest,'--you know what Milton
says. But there's one great comfort: this thick night-air is so very
healthy, you know. I think you made a very great mistake, Mr. Rink, in
not inhaling it thoroughly. I kept pumping it in all night, from a sense
of duty, at forty bellows-power.
_First Victim._--(Rising, and dragging up to the mountain-crib the
artillery of a ghostly face, and training it point-blank at Second
Victim.)--Young man, don't trifle!
_Second Victim._--Pardon me, Sir, I am not trifling, I have sound
reasons for what I say. Your education, Sir, has apparently been
neglected. Wait one moment, and I'll give you a new idea, which will
contribute materially to your happiness. You will at once admit, I take
it, that oxygen and carbonic acid stand at opposite poles in their
relations to the respiratory system; also, that said dock-smell was a
mixture of carbonic acid of various kinds, and of different degrees of
intensity; and, lastly, that animal and vegetable life are complements
of each other,--correlatives, so to speak.
_First Victim._--Sartin: that's Natur' an' common sense.
_Second Victim._--Now, then, plants naturally absorb carbonic acid and
give off oxygen during daylight. At night, the process is reversed: then
they absorb oxygen and give off carbonic acid. In a similar, but reverse
way, man, who was plainly intended to inhale oxygen and exhale carbonic
acid in his waking hours, should, in his sleeping hours, in order to be
consistent with himself and with Nature, inhale only dense carbonic acid
and exhale oxygen. Men and plants make Nature's see-saw: one goes up as
the other goes down. Hence it follows as a logical sequence, that the
truly wise man, who seeks to comply with the laws of Nature, and to
fulfil the great ends of his existence, will choose for his
sleeping-apartment the closest quarters possible, and will welcome the
fumes which would be noisome by day. For my part, therefore, I feel
profoundly grateful even for one night of this little crib. It has
already done much for me. I feel confident that it has contributed
greatly to my span of life. I am deeply beholden to the owners, to the
captain, yea, to all the crew. And for the blessed dock-smell I shall
ever be thankful:--
"'T were worth ten years of mortal life, One glance at its
array."
It will not be amiss to say to you, Mr. Rink, that this theory is
sanctioned by one of the leading ornaments of the French Academy. He has
advocated it, in an elaborate treatise, with an eloquence and power
worthy of its distinguished author. He shows, in passages of singular
purity, that beasts, whose instincts teach them far more of the laws of
Nature than our reason teaches us, always retire to sleep in a place
where they can obtain the closest, healthiest air. In the last
communication sent to me on this subject by the learned Professor, he
proves conclusively that----
_First Victim._ (His artillery now rumbling down the heights on the full
gallop.)--I snum, that's awful! Wal, I never see,--'t beats the Dutch!
No kind o' use talkin' with sech a chap. Never see so much nonsense in
one head 's that critter's got in his.