The Clockmaker — or, the Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick, of Slickville. Thomas Chandler Haliburton
Nabb that time.
The Clockmaker was an observing man, and communicative. Nothing escaped his notice; he knew every body's genealogy, history and means, and like a driver of an English Stage Coach, was not unwilling to impart what he knew. Do you see that snug looking house there, said he, with a short sarce garden afore it, that belongs to Elder Thomson. The Elder is pretty close fisted, and holds special fast to all he gets. He is a just man and very pious, but I have observed when a man becomes near about too good, he is apt, sometimes, to slip a head into avarice, unless he looks sharp arter his girths. A friend of mine in Connecticut, an old sea Captain, who was once let in for it pretty deep, by a man with a broader brim than common, said to me, friend Sam, says he, "I don't like those folks who are too d—n good." There is, I expect, some truth in it, tho' he need'nt have swore at all, but he was an awful hand to swear. Howsomever that may be, there is a story about the Elder, that's not so coarse neither. It appears, an old Minister came there once, to hold a meetin at his house—well, after meetin was over, the Elder took the minister all over his farm, which is pretty tidy, I tell you; and he shewed him a great Ox he had, and a swingeing big Pig, that weighed some six or seven hundred weight, that he was plaguy proud of, but he never offered the old minister any thing to eat or drink. The preacher was pretty tired of all this, and seeing no prospect of being asked to partake with the family, and tolerably sharp set, he asked one of the boys to fetch him his horse out of the barn. When he was taking leave of the Elder, (there were several folks by at the time,) says he, Elder Thomson, you have a fine farm here, a very fine farm, indeed; you have a large Ox too, a very large Ox; and I think, said he, I've seen to-day, (turning and looking him full in the face, for he intended to hit him pretty hard,) I think I have seen to-day the greatest hag I ever saw in my life. The neighbours snickered a good deal, and the Elder felt pretty streaked. I guess he'd give his great Pig or his great Ox either, if that story had'nt got wind.
No. VII
Go Ahead.
When we resumed our conversation, the Clockmaker said, "I guess we are the greatest nation on the face of the airth, and the most enlightened too." This was rather too arrogant to pass unnoticed, and I was about replying, that whatever doubts there might be on that subject, there could be none whatever that they were the most MODEST; when he continued "we go ahead," the Novascotians go "astarn." Our ships go ahead of the ships of other folks, our steam boats beat the British in speed, and so do our stage coaches; and I reckon a real right down New York trotter might stump the univarse for going "ahead." But since we introduced the Rail Roads if we don't go "ahead" its a pity. We never fairly knew what going the whole hog was till then; we actilly went ahead of ourselves, and that's no easy matter I tell you. If they only had edication here, they might learn to do so too, but they don't know nothin. You undervalue them, said I, they have their College and Academies, their grammar schools and primary institutions, and I believe there are few among them who cannot read and write.
I guess all that's nothin, said he. As for Latin and Greek, we don't valy it a cent; we teach it, and so we do painting and music, because the English do, and we like to go ahead on em, even in them are things. As for reading, its well enough for them that has nothing to do, and writing is plaguy apt to bring a man to States-prison, particularly if he writes his name so like another man as to have it mistaken for his'n. Cyphering is the thing—if a man knows how to cypher, he is sure to grow rich. We are a 'calculating' people, we all cypher.
A horse that wont go ahead, is apt to run back, and the more you whip him the faster he goes astarn. That's jist the way with the Nova Scotians; they have been running back so fast lately, that they have tumbled over a BANK or two, and nearly broke their necks; and now they've got up and shook themselves, they swear their dirty clothes and bloody noses are all owing to the BANKS. I guess if they wont look ahead for the future, they'll larn to look behind, and see if there's a bank near hand em.
A Bear always goes down a tree STARN FOREMOST. He is a cunning critter, he knows tante safe to carry a heavy load over his head, and his rump is so heavy, he don't like to trust it over hisn, for fear it might take a lurch, and carry him heels over head, to the ground; so he lets his starn down first, and his head arter. I wish the Blue Noses would find as good an excuse in their rumps for running backwards as he has. But the bear 'CYPHERS;' he knows how many pounds his hams weigh, and he 'CALCULATES' if he carried them up in the air, they might be top heavy for him.
If we had this Province we'd go to work and 'cypher' right off. Halifax is nothing without a river or back country; add nothing to nothing, and I guess you have nothing still—add a Rail Road to the Bay of Fundy, and how much do you get? That requires cyphering—it will cost $300,000, or 75,000 pounds your money—add for notions omitted in the addition column, one third, and it makes even money—100,000 pounds. Interest at 5 per cent 5,000 pounds a year. Now turn over the slate and count up freight—I make it upwards of 25,000 pounds a year. If I had you at the desk, I'd shew you a bill of items.
Now comes "SUBTRACTION," deduct cost of engines, wear and tear, and expenses, and what not, and reduce it for shortness down to 5,000 pounds a year, the amount of interest. What figures have you got now? you have an investment that pays interest, I guess, and if it don't pay more then I don't know chalk from cheese. But suppose it don't, and that it only yields two and a half per cent, (and it requires good cyphering, I tell you, to say how it would act with folks that like going astarn better than going ahead,) what would them are wise ones say then? Why the critters would say it wont pay; but I say the sum ant half stated. Can you count in your head? Not to any extent, said I. Well, that's an etarnal pity, said the Clockmaker, for I should like to show you Yankee Cyphering. What is the entire real estate of Halifax worth, at a valeation? I really cannot say. Ah, said he, I see you don't cypher, and Latin and Greek wont do; them are people had no rail-roads. Well, find out, and then only add ten per cent to it, for increased value, and if it don't give the cost of a rail-road, then my name is not Sam Slick. Well, the land between Halifax and Ardoise is worth— nothing, add 5 per cent to that, and send the sum to the College, and ax the students how much it comes to. But when you get into Hants County, I guess you have land worth coming all the way from Boston to see. His Royal Highness the King, I guess, hasn't got the like in his dominions. Well, add 15 per cent to all them are lands that border on Windsor Basin, and 5 per cent to what butts on Basin of Mines, and then, what do you get? A pretty considerable sum I tell you—but its no use to give you the CHALKS, if you can't keep the TALLIES. Now we will lay down the schoolmaster's assistant, and take up another book every bit and grain as good as that, although these folks affect to sneer at it—I mean human natur. Ah! said I, a knowledge of that was of great service to you, certainly, in the sale of your clock to the old Deacon: let us see how it will assist you now. What does a clock want that's run down? said he. Undoubtedly to be wound up, I replied; I guess you've hit it this time. The folks of Halifax have run down, and they'll never go to all eternity, till they are wound up into motion: the works are all good, and it is plaguy well cased and set—it only wants a KEY. Put this railroad into operation, and the activity it will inspire into business, the new life it will give the place, will surprise you. Its like lifting a child off its crawling, and putting him on his legs to run—see how the little critter goes ahead arter that. A kurnel, (I don't mean a Kurnel of militia, for we don't valy that breed o' cattle nothing—they do nothing but strut about and screech all day, like peacocks,) but a kurnel of grain, when sowed, will stool into several shoots, and each shoot hear many kurnels, and will multiply itself thus—4 times 1 is 4, and 4 times 25 is a hundred, (you see all natur cyphers, except the Blue Noses.) Jist so, this here rail-road will not perhaps beget other rail-roads, but it will beget a spirit of enterprise, that will beget other useful improvements. It will enlarge the sphere and the means of trade, open new sources of traffic and supply—develop resources—and what is of more value perhaps than all—beget motion. It will teach the folks that go astarn or stand stock still, like the statehouse in Boston, (though they do say the foundation of that has moved a little this summer) not only to go "AHEAD," BUT TO NULLIFY TIME AND SPACE.
Here his horse (who, feeling the animation of his master, had been restive of late) set off at a most prodigious rate of trotting. It was some time before he was reined up. When I overtook him, the Clockmaker said, "this old Yankee horse, you see, understands our word 'go ahead' better nor these Blue Noses."
What is it, he