Anthony Trollope - "The American Senator"

Maxim Gorky - "Mother"

Luise von Muhlbach - "Mohammed Ali and His House"

Edward Carpenter - "NEVER AGAIN"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Nature and Human Nature

T >> Thomas Chandler Haliburton >> Nature and Human Nature




On the right-hand side of the harbour, boys and girls waded out on the
flats to dig clams, and were assailed on all sides by the screams of
wild fowl who resented the invasion of their territory, and were
replied to in tones no less shrill and unintelligible. On the left was
the wreck of a large ship, which had perished on the coast, and left
its ribs and skeleton to bleach on the shore, as if it had failed in
the vain attempt to reach the forest from which it had sprung, and to
repose in death in its native valley. From one of its masts, a long,
loose, solitary shroud was pendant, having at its end a large double
block attached to it, on which a boy was seated, and swung backward
and forward. He was a little saucy urchin, of about twelve years of
age, dressed in striped homespun, and had on his head a red yarn
clackmutch, that resembled a cap of liberty. He seemed quite happy,
and sung a verse of a French song with an air of conscious pride and
defiance as his mother, stick in hand, stood before him, and at the
top of her voice now threatened him with the rod, his father, and the
priest--and then treacherously coaxed him with a promise to take him
to Halifax, where he should see the great chapel, hear the big bell,
and look at the bishop. A group of little girls stared in amazement at
his courage, but trembled when they heard his mother predict a broken
neck--purgatory--and the devil as his portion. The dog was as excited
as the boy--he didn't bark, but he whimpered as he gazed upon him, as
if he would like to jump up and be with him, or to assure him he would
catch him if he fell, if he had but the power to do so.

What a picture it was--the huge wreck of that that once "walked the
waters as a thing of life"--the merry boy--the anxious mother--the
trembling sisters--the affectionate dog; what bits of church-yard
scenes were here combined--children playing on the tombs--the young
and the old--the merry and the aching heart--the living among the
dead. Far beyond this were tall figures wading in the water, and
seeking their food in the shallows; cranes, who felt the impunity that
the superstition of the simple habitans had extended to them, and
sought their daily meal in peace.

Above the beach and parallel with it, ran a main road, on the upper
side of which were the houses, and on a swelling mound behind them
rose the spire of the chapel visible far off in the Atlantic, a sacred
signal-post for the guidance of the poor coaster. As soon as you reach
this street or road and look around you, you feel at once you are in a
foreign country and a land of strangers. The people, their dress, and
their language, the houses, their form and appearance, the implements
of husbandry, their shape and construction--all that you hear and see
is unlike anything else. It is neither above, beyond, or behind the
age. It is the world before the Flood. I have sketched it for you, and
I think without bragging I may say I can take things off to the life.
Once I drawed a mutton chop so nateral, my dog broke his teeth in
tearing the panel to pieces to get at it; and at another time I
painted a shingle so like stone, when I threw it into the water, it
sunk right kerlash to the bottom.

"Oh, Mr Slick," said the doctor, "let me get away from here. I can't
bear the sight of the sea-coast, and above all, of this offensive
place. Let us get into the woods where we can enjoy ourselves. You
have never witnessed what I have lately, and I trust in God you never
will. I have seen within this month two hundred dead bodies on a beach
in every possible shape of disfiguration and decomposition--mangled,
mutilated, and dismembered corpses; male and female, old and young,
the prey of fishes, birds, beasts, and, what is worse, of human
beings. The wrecker had been there--whether he was of your country or
mine I know not, but I fervently hope he belonged to neither. Oh, I
have never slept sound since. The screams of the birds terrify me, and
yet what do they do but follow the instincts of their nature? They
batten on the dead, and if they do feed on the living, God has given
them animated beings for their sustenance, as, he has the fowls of the
air, the fishes of the sea, and the beasts of the field to us, but
they feed not on each other. Man, man alone is a cannibal. What an
awful word that is!"

"Exactly," sais I, "for he is then below the canine species--'dog
won't eat dog.'1 The wrecker lives not on those who die, but on those
whom he slays. The pirate has courage at least to boast of, he risks
his life to rob the ship, but the other attacks the helpless and
unarmed, and spares neither age nor sex in his thirst for plunder. I
don't mean to say we are worse on this side of the Atlantic than the
other, God forbid. I believe we are better, for the American people
are a kind, a feeling, and a humane race. But avarice hardens the
heart, and distress, when it comes in a mass, overpowers pity for the
individual, while inability to aid a multitude induces a carelessness
to assist any. A whole community will rush to the rescue of a drowning
man, not because his purse can enrich them all (that is too dark a
view of human nature), but because he is the sole object of interest.
When there are hundreds struggling for life, few of whom can be saved,
and when some wretches are solely bent on booty, the rest, regardless
of duty, rush in for their share also, and the ship and her cargo
attract all. When the wreck is plundered, the transition to rifling
the dying and the dead is not difficult, and cupidity, when once
sharpened by success, brooks no resistance, for the remonstrance of
conscience is easily silenced where supplication is not even heard.
Avarice benumbs the feelings, and when the heart is hardened, man
becomes a mere beast of prey. Oh this scene afflicts me--let us move
on. These poor people have never yet been suspected of such
atrocities, and surely they were not perpetrated in the world before
the Flood."


1 This homely adage is far more expressive than the Latin one:--

"Parcit
Cognates maculis, similis fera."--Juv.



CHAPTER XVII.

LOST AT SEA.


"I believe, Doctor," sais I, "we have seen all that is worth notice
here, let us go into one of their houses and ascertain if there is
anything for Sorrow's larder; but, Doctor," sais I, "let us first find
out if they speak English, for if they do we must be careful what we
say before them. Very few of the old people I guess know anything but
French, but the younger ones who frequent the Halifax market know more
than they pretend to if they are like some other habitans I saw at New
Orleans. They are as cunning as foxes."

Proceeding to one of the largest cottages, we immediately gained
admission. The door, unlike those of Nova Scotian houses, opened
outwards, the fastening being a simple wooden latch. The room into
which we entered was a large, dark, dingy, dirty apartment. In the
centre of it was a tub containing some goslins, resembling yellow
balls of corn-meal, rather than birds. Two females were all that were
at home, one a little wrinkled woman, whose age it would puzzle a
physiognomist to pronounce on, the other a girl about twenty-five
years old. They sat on opposite sides of the fire-place, and both were
clothed alike, in blue striped homespun, as previously described.

"Look at their moccasins," said the doctor. "They know much more about
deer-skins than half the English settlers do. Do you observe, they are
made of carriboo, and not moose hide. The former contracts with wet
and the other distends and gets out of shape. Simple as that little
thing is, few people have ever noticed it."

The girl, had she been differently trained and dressed, would have
been handsome, but spare diet, exposure to the sun and wind, and
field-labour, had bronzed her face, so that it was difficult to say
what her real complexion was. Her hair was jet black and very
luxuriant, but the handkerchief which served for bonnet and head-dress
by day, and for a cap by night, hid all but the ample folds in front.
Her teeth were as white as ivory, and contrasted strangely with the
gipsy colour of her cheeks. Her eyes were black, soft, and liquid, and
the lashes remarkably long, but the expression of her face, which was
naturally good, indicated, though not very accurately, the absence of
either thought or curiosity.

After a while objects became more distinct in the room, as we
gradually became accustomed to the dim light of the small windows. The
walls were hung round with large hanks of yarn, principally blue and
white. An open cupboard displayed some plain coarse cups and saucers,
and the furniture consisted of two rough tables, a large bunk,1 one or
two sea-chests, and a few chairs of simple workmanship. A large
old-fashioned spinning-wheel and a barrel-churn stood in one corner,
and in the other a shoemaker's bench, while carpenter's tools were
suspended on nails in such places as were not occupied by yarn. There
was no ceiling or plastering visible anywhere, the floor of the attic
alone separated that portion of the house from the lower room, and the
joice on which it was laid were thus exposed to view, and supported on
wooden cleets, leather, oars, rudders, together with some half-dressed
pieces of ash, snow-shoes, and such other things as necessity might
require. The wood-work, wherever visible, was begrimed with smoke, and
the floor, though doubtless sometimes swept, appeared as if it had the
hydrophobia hidden in its cracks, so carefully were soap and water
kept from it. Hams and bacon were nowhere visible. It is probable, if
they had any, they were kept elsewhere, but still more probable that
they had found their way to market, and been transmuted into money,
for these people are remarkably frugal and abstemious, and there can
be no doubt, the doctor says, that there is not a house in the
settlement in which there is not a supply of ready money, though the
appearance of the buildings and their inmates would by no means
justify a stranger in supposing so. They are neither poor nor
destitute, but far better off than those who live more comfortably and
inhabit better houses.


1 Bunk is a word in common use, and means a box that makes a seat by
day and serves for a bedstead by night.


The only article of food that I saw was a barrel of eggs, most
probably accumulated for the Halifax market, and a few small fish on
rods, undergoing the process of smoking in the chimney corner.

The old woman was knitting and enjoying her pipe, and the girl was
dressing wool, and handling a pair of cards with a rapidity and ease
that would have surprised a Lancashire weaver. The moment she rose to
sweep up the hearth I saw she was an heiress. When an Acadian girl has
but her outer and under garment on, it is a clear sign, if she
marries, there will be a heavy demand on the fleeces of her husband's
sheep; but if she wears four or more thick woollen petticoats, it is
equally certain her portion of worldly goods is not very small.

"Doctor," sais I, "it tante every darnin' needle would reach her
through them petticoats, is it?"

"Oh!" said he, "Mr Slick--oh!" and he rose as usual, stooped forward,
pressed his hands on his ribs, and ran round the room, if not at the
imminent risk of his life, certainly to the great danger of the
spinning wheel and the goslings. Both the females regarded him with
great surprise, and not without some alarm.

"He has the stomach-ache," sais I, in French, "he is subject to it."

"Oh! oh!" said he, when he heard that, "oh, Mr Slick, you will be the
death of me."

"Have you got any peppermint?" sais I.

"No," said she, talking in her own patois; and she scraped a spoonful
of soot from the chimney, and putting it into a cup, was about pouring
hot water on it for an emetic, when he could stand it no longer, but
rushing out of the door, put to flight a flock of geese that were
awaiting their usual meal, and stumbling over a pig, fell at full
length on the ground, nearly crushing the dog, who went off yelling as
if another such blow would be the death of him, and hid himself under
the barn. The idea of the soot-emetic relieved the old lady, though it
nearly fixed the doctor's flint for him. She extolled its virtues to
the skies; she saved her daughter's life, she said, with it once, who
had been to Halifax, and was taken by an officer into a pastrycook's
shop and treated. He told her if she would eat as much as she could at
once, he would pay for it all.

Well, she did her best. She eat one loaf of plumcake, three trays of
jellies, a whole counter of little tarts, figs, raisins, and oranges,
and all sorts of things without number. Oh! it was a grand chance, she
said, and the way she eat was a caution to a cormorant; but at last
she gave out she couldn't do no more. The foolish officer, the old
lady observed, if he had let her fetch all them things home, you know
we could have helped her to eat them, and if we couldn't have eat 'em
all in one day, surely we could in one week; but he didn't think of
that I suppose. But her daughter liked to have died; too much of a
good thing is good for nothing. Well, the soot-emetic cured her, and
then she told me all its effects; and it's very surprising, it didn't
sound bad in French, but it don't do to write it in English at all;
it's the same thing, but it tells better in French. It must be a very
nice language that for a doctor, when it makes emetics sound so
pretty; you might hear of 'em while you was at dinner and not disturb
you.

You may depend it made the old lady wake snakes and walk chalks
talking of physic. She told me if a man was dying or a child was born
in all that settlement, she was always sent for, and related to me
some capital stories; but somehow no English or Yankee woman could
tell them to a man, and a man can't tell them in English. How is this,
Squire, do you know? Ah! here is the doctor, I will ask him by and by.

Women, I believe, are born with certain natural tastes. Sally was
death on lace, and old Aunt Thankful goes the whole figure for furs;
either on 'em could tell real thread or genuine sable clear across the
church. Mother was born with a tidy devil, and had an eye for cobwebs
and blue-bottle flies. She waged eternal war on 'em; while Phoebe
Hopewell beat all natur for bigotry and virtue as she called them
(bijouterie and virtu). But most Yankee women when they grow old,
specially if they are spinsters, are grand at compoundin' medicines
and presarves. They begin by nursin' babies and end by nursin'
broughten up folks. Old Mother Boudrot, now, was great on herbs, most
of which were as simple and as harmless as herself. Some of them was
new to me, though I think I know better ones than she has; but what
made her onfallible was she had faith. She took a key out of her
pocket, big enough for a jail-door, and unlocking a huge sailor's
chest, selected a box made by the Indians of birch bark, worked with
porcupine quills, which enclosed another a size smaller, and that a
littler one that would just fit into it, and so on till she came to
one about the size of an old-fashioned coffee-cup. They are called a
nest of boxes. The inner one contained a little horn thing that looked
like a pill-box, and that had a charm in it.

It was a portion of the nail of St Francis's big toe, which never
failed to work a cure on them who believed in it. She said she bought
it from a French prisoner, who had deserted from Melville Island, at
Halifax, during the last war. She gave him a suit of clothes, two
shirts, six pair of stockings, and eight dollars for it. The box was
only a bit of bone, and not worthy of the sacred relic, but she
couldn't afford to get a gold one for it.

"Poor St Croix," she said, "I shall never see him again. He had great
larning; he could both read and write. When he sold me that holy
thing, he said:

"'Madam, I am afraid something dreadful will happen to me before long
for selling that relic. When danger and trouble come, where will be my
charm then?'

"Well, sure enough, two nights after (it was a very dark night) the
dogs barked dreadful, and in the morning Peter La Roue, when he got
up, saw his father's head on the gate-post, grinnin' at him, and his
daughter Annie's handkerchief tied over his crown and down under his
chin. And St Croix was gone, and Annie was in a trance, and the
priest's desk was gone, with two hundred pounds of money in it; and
old Jodrie's ram had a saddle and bridle on, and was tied to a gate of
the widow of Justine Robisheau, that was drowned in a well at Halifax;
and Simon Como's boat put off to sea of itself, and was no more heard
of. Oh, it was a terrible night, and poor St Croix, people felt very
sorry for him, and for Annie La Roue, who slept two whole days and
nights before she woke up. She had all her father's money in her room
that night; but they searched day after day and never found it."

Well, I didn't undeceive her. What's the use? Master St Croix was an
old privateers-man. He had drugged La Roue's daughter to rob her of
her money; had stolen two hundred pounds from the priest, and Como's
boat, and sold the old lady a piece of his toe-nail for eight or ten
pounds' worth in all. I never shake the faith of an ignorant person.
Suppose they do believe too much, it is safer than believing too
little. You may make them give up their creed, but they ain't always
quite so willing to take your's. It is easier to make an infidel than
a convert. So I just let folks be, and suffer them to skin their own
eels.

After that she took to paying me compliments on my French, and I
complimented her on her good looks, and she confessed she was very
handsome when she was young, and all the men were in love with her,
and so on. Well, when I was about startin', I inquired what she had to
sell in the eatin' line.

"Eggs and fish," she said, "were all she had in the house."

On examining the barrel containing the former, I found a
white-lookin', tasteless powder among them.

"What's that?" said I.

Well, she told me what it was (pulverised gypsum), and said, "It would
keep them sweet and fresh for three months at least, and she didn't
know but more."

So I put my hand away down into the barrel and pulled out two, and
that layer she said was three months old. I held them to the light,
and they were as clear as if laid yesterday.

"Boil them," sais I, and she did so; and I must say it was a wrinkle I
didn't expect to pick up at such a place as that, for nothing could be
fresher.

"Here is a dollar," said I, "for that receipt, for it's worth knowing,
I can tell you."

"Now," thinks I, as I took my seat again, "I will try and see if this
French gall can talk English." I asked her, but she shook her head.

So to prove her, sais I, "Doctor, ain't she a beauty, that? See what
lovely eyes she has, and magnificent hair! Oh, if she was well got up,
and fashionably dressed, wouldn't she be a sneezer? What beautiful
little hands and feet she has! I wonder if she would marry me, seein'
I am an orthodox man."

Well, she never moved a muscle; she kept her eyes fixed on her work,
and there wasn't the leastest mite of a smile on her face. I kinder
sorter thought her head was rather more stationary, if anything, as if
she was listening, and her eyes more fixed, as if she was all
attention; but she had dropped a stitch in her knitting, and was
taking of it up, so perhaps I might be mistaken. Thinks I, I will try
you on t'other tack.

"Doctor, how would you like to kiss her, eh? Ripe-looking lips them,
ain't they? Well, I wouldn't kiss her for the world," said I; "I would
just as soon think of kissing a ham that is covered with creosote.
There is so much ile and smoke on 'em, I should have the taste in my
mouth for a week. Phew! I think I taste it now!"

She coloured a little at that, and pretty soon got up and went out of
the room; and presently I heard her washing her hands and face like
anything,

Thinks I, "You sly fox! you know English well enough to kiss in it
anyhow, if you can't talk in it easy. I thought I'de find you out; for
a gall that won't laugh when you tickle her, can't help screamin' a
little when you pinch her; that's a fact." She returned in a few
minutes quite a different lookin' person, and resumed her usual
employment, but still persisted that she did not know English. In the
midst of our conversation, the master of the house, Jerome Boudrot,
came in. Like most of the natives of Chesencook, he was short in
stature, but very active, and like all the rest a great talker.

"Ah, gentlemen," he said, "you follow de sea, eh?"

"No," sais I, "the sea often follows us, especially when the wind is
fair."

"True, true," he said; "I forget dat. It followed me one time. Oh, I
was wunst lost at sea; and it's an awful feelin'. I was out of sight
of land one whole day, all night, and eetle piece of next day. Oh, I
was proper frightened. It was all sea and sky, and big wave, and no
land, and none of us knew our way back." And he opened his eyes as if
the very recollection of his danger alarmed him. "At last big ship
came by, and hailed her, and ask:

"'My name is Jerry Boudrot; where am I?'

"'Aboard of your own vessel,' said they; and they laughed like
anything, and left us.

"Well, towards night we were overtaken by Yankee vessel, and I say,
'My name is Jerry Boudrot; where am I?'

"'Thar,' said the sarcy Yankee captain, 'and if you get this far, you
will be here;' and they laughed at me, and I swore at them, and called
'em all manner of names.

"Well, then I was proper frightened, and I gave myself up for lost,
and I was so sorry I hadn't put my deed of my land on recor, and that
I never got pay for half a cord of wood I sold a woman, who nevare
return agin, last time I was to Halifax; and Esadore Terrio owe me two
shillings and sixpence, and I got no note of hand for it, and I lend
my ox-cart for one day to Martell Baban, and he will keep it for a
week, and wear it out, and my wife marry again as sure as de world.
Oh, I was very scare and propare sorry, you may depend, when presently
great big English ship come by, and I hail her.

"'My name is Jerry Boudrot,' sais I, 'when did you see land last?'

"'Thirty days ago,' said the captain.

"'Where am I?' sais I.

"'In 44° 40' north,' said he, 'and 63° 40' west,' as near as I could
hear him.

"'And what country is dat are?' said I. 'My name is Jerry Boudrot.'

"'Where are you bound?' said he.

"'Home,'1 said I.


1 All colonists call England "home."


"'Well,' said he, 'at this season of the year you shall make de run in
twenty-five day. A pleasant passage to you!' and away he went.

"Oh, I was plague scared; for it is a dreadful thing to be lost at
sea.

"'Twenty-five days,' said I, 'afore we get home! Oh, mon Dieu! oh
dear! we shall all starve to death; and what is worse, die first. What
provision have we, boys?'

"'Well,' sais they, 'we counted, and we have two figs of tobacco, and
six loaf baker's bread (for the priest), two feet of wood, three
matches, and five gallons of water, and one pipe among us all.' Three
matches and five gallons of water! Oh, I was so sorry to lose my life,
and what was wus, I had my best clothes on bord.

"'Oh, boys, we are out of sight of land now,' sais I, 'and what is
wus, may be we go so far we get out sight of de sun too, where is dark
like down cellar. Oh, it's a shocking ting to be lost at sea. Oh,
people lose deir way dere so bad, sometimes dey nevare return no more.
People that's lost in de wood dey come back if dey live, but them
that's lost at sea nevare. Oh, I was damn scared. Oh, mon Dieu! what
is 44° 40' north and 63° 40' west? Is dat de conetry were people who
are lost at sea go to? Boys, is there any rum on board?' and they said
there was a bottle for the old lady's rheumatis. 'Well, hand it up,'
sais I, 'and if ever you get back tell her it was lost at sea, and has
gone to 44° 40' north and 63° 40' west. Oh, dear, dis all comes from
going out of sight of land.'

"Oh, I was vary dry you may depend; I was so scared at being lost at
sea that way, my lips stuck together like the sole and upper-leather
of a shoe. And when I took down the bottle to draw breath, the boys
took it away, as it was all we had. Oh, it set my mouth afire, it was
made to warm outside and not inside. Dere was brimstone, and camphor,
and eetle red pepper, and turpentene in it. Vary hot, vary nasty, and
vary trong, and it made me sea-sick, and I gave up my dinner, for I
could not hole him no longer, he jump so in de stomach, and what was
wus, I had so little for anoder meal. Fust I lose my way, den I lose
my sense, den I lose my dinner, and what is wus I lose myself to sea.
Oh, I repent vary mush of my sin in going out of sight of land. Well,
I lights my pipe and walks up and down, and presently the sun comes
out quite bright.

"'Well, dat sun,' sais I, 'boys, sets every night behind my barn in
the big swamp, somewhere about the Hemlock Grove. Well, dat is 63° 40'
west I suppose. And it rises a few miles to the eastward of that barn,
sometimes out of a fog bank, and sometimes out o' the water; well that
is 44° 40' north, which is all but east I suppose. Now, if we steer
west we will see our barn, but steering east is being lost at sea, for
in time you would be behind de sun.'