Ella Wheeler Wilcox - "Poems of Cheer"

W. R. Inge - "Light, Life, and Love"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1595 96"

Emile Zola - "The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Vol. 5"

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




"Now, the fox has the right knee action, and the leg is 'thar.' In the
real knee movement, there is a peculiar spring, that must be seen to
be known and valued, words don't give you the idea of it. It's like
the wire end of a pair of galluses--oh, it's charming. It's down and
off in a jiffy, like a gall's finger on a piano when she is doin'
chromatic runs. Fact is, if I am walking out, and see a critter with
it, I have to stop and stare; and, Doctor, I will tell you a queer
thing. Halt and look at a splendid movin' hoss, and the rider is
pleased; he thinks half the admiration is for him, as rider and owner,
and t'other half for his trotter. The gony's delighted, chirups his
beast, gives him a sly touch up with the off heel, and shows him off
to advantage. But stop and look at a woman, and she is as mad as a
hatter. She don't care how much you look at her, as long as you don't
stand still or turn your head round. She wouldn't mind slackin' her
pace if you only attended to that.

"Now the fox has that special springy movement I speak of, and he puts
his foot down flat, he bends the grass rather to him, than from him,
if anything, but most commonly crumples it flat; but you never see it
inclinin' in the line of the course he is runnin'--never. Fact is,
they never get a hoist, and that is a very curious word, it has a very
different meanin' at sea from what it has on land. In one case it
means to haul up, in the other to fall down. The term 'look out' is
just the same.

"A canal boat was once passing through a narrow lock on the Erie line,
and the captain hailed the passengers and said, 'Look out.' Well, a
Frenchman thinking something strange was to be seen, popt his head
out, and it was cut off in a minute. 'Oh, mon Dieu!' said his comrade,
'dat is a very striking lesson in English. On land, look out means,
open de window and see what you will see. On board canal boat it
means, haul your head in, and don't look at nothin'.'

"Well, the worst hoist that I ever had was from a very high-actioned
mare, the down foot slipped, and t'other was too high to be back in
time for her to recover, and over both of us went kerlash in the mud.
I was skeered more about her than myself, lest she should git the skin
of her knee cut, for to a knowing one's eye that's an awful blemish.
It's a long story to tell how such a blemish warn't the hoss's fault,
for I'd rather praise than apologize for a critter any time. And there
is one thing few-people knows. Let the cut come which way it will, the
animal is never so safe afterwards. Nature's bandage, the skin, is
severed, and that leg is the weakest.

"Well, as I was a sayin', Doctor, there is the knee action and the
foot action, and then there is a third thing. The leg must be just
thar."

"Where?" said the doctor.

"Thar," said I, "there is only one place for that, and that is 'thar,'
well forward at the shoulder-point, and not where it most commonly is,
too much under the body--for if it's too far back he stumbles, or too
forward he can't 'pick chips quick stick.' Doctor, I am a borin' of
you, but the fact is, when I get a goin' 'talkin' hoss,' I never know
where to stop. How much better tempered they are than half the women
in the world, ain't they? and I don't mean to undervally the dear
critters neither by no manner of means, and how much more sense they
have than half the men either, after all their cracking and bragging!
How grateful they are for kindness, how attached to you they get. How
willin' they are to race like dry dust in a thunder squall, till they
die for you! I do love them, that is a fact, and when I see a feller a
ill-usin' of one of 'em, it makes me feel as cross as two crooked
gate-posts, I tell you.

"Indeed, a man that don't love a hoss is no man at all. I don't think
he can be religious. A hoss makes a man humane and tender-hearted,
teaches him to feel for others, to share his food, and be unselfish;
to anticipate wants and supply them; to be gentle and patient. Then
the hoss improves him otherwise. He makes him rise early, attend to
meal hours, and to be cleanly. He softens and improves the heart. Who
is there that ever went into a stable of a morning, and his critter
whinnered to him and played his ears back and forward, and turned his
head affectionately to him, and lifted his fore-feet short and moved
his tail, and tried all he could to express his delight, and say,
'Morning to you, master,' or when he went up to the manger and patted
his neck, and the lovin' critter rubbed his head agin him in return,
that didn't think within himself, well, after all, the hoss is a noble
critter? I do love him. Is it nothin' to make a man love at all? How
many fellers get more kicks than coppers in their life--have no home,
nobody to love them and nobody to love, in whose breast all the
affections are pent up, until they get unwholesome and want
ventilation. Is it nothin' to such an unfortunate critter to be made a
stable help? Why, it elevates him in the scale of humanity. He
discovers at last he has a head to think and a heart to feel. He is a
new man. Hosses warn't given to us, Doctor, to ride steeple-chases, or
run races, or brutify a man, but to add new powers and lend new speed
to him. He was destined for nobler uses.

"Is it any wonder that a man that has owned old Clay likes to talk
hoss? I guess not. If I was a gall I wouldn't have nothin' to say to a
man that didn't love a hoss and know all about him. I wouldn't touch
him with a pair of tongs. I'd scorn him as I would a nigger. Sportsmen
breed pheasants to kill, and amature huntsmen shoot dear for the
pleasure of the slaughter. The angler hooks salmon for the cruel
delight he has in witnessing the strength of their dying struggles.
The black-leg gentleman runs his hoss agin time, and wins the race,
and kills his noble steed, and sometimes loses both money and hoss, I
wish to gracious he always did; but the rail hossman, Doctor, is a
rail man, every inch of him, stock, lock, and barrel."

"Massa," said Sorrow, who stood listenin' to me as I was warmin' on
the subject. "Massa, dis hoss will be no manner of remaginable use
under de blessed light ob de sun."

"Why, Sorrow?"

"Cause, Massa, he don't understand one word of English, and de French
he knows no libbin' soul can understand but a Cheesencooker, yah, yah,
yah! Dey called him a 'shovel,' and his tail a 'queue.' "

"What a goose you are, Sorrow," sais I.

"Fac, Massa," he said, "fac I do ressure you, and dey called de little
piggy doctor fell over, 'a coach.' Dod drat my hide if they didn't
yah, yah, yah!"

"The English ought to import, Doctor," sais I, "some of these into
their country, for as to ridin' and drivin' there is nothin' like
them. But catch Britishers admitting there is anything good in Canada,
but the office of Governor-General, the military commands, and other
pieces of patronage, which they keep to themselves, and then say they
have nothing left. Ah me! times is altered, as Elgin knows. The
pillory and the peerage have changed places. Once, a man who did wrong
was first elevated, and then pelted. A peer is now assailed with eggs,
and then exalted."

"Palmam qui meruit ferat," said the doctor.

"Is that the Latin for how many hands high the horse is?" sais I.
"Well, on an average, say fifteen, perhaps oftener less than more.
It's the old Norman horse of two centuries ago, a compound of the
Flemish stock and the Barb, introduced into the Low Countries by the
Spaniards. Havin' been transported to Canada at that early period, it
has remained unchanged, and now may be called a distinct breed,
differing widely in many respects from those found at the present day
in the locations from which they originally came. But look at the
amazin' strength of his hip, look at the lines, and anatomical
formation (as you would say) of his frame, which fit him for both a
saddle and a gig hoss. Look at his chest, not too wide to make him
paddle in his gait, nor too narrow to limit his wind. Observe all the
points of strength. Do you see the bone below the knee and the freedom
of the cord there. Do you mark the eye and head of the Barb. Twig the
shoulder, the identical medium for a hoss of all work, and the
enormous power to shove him ahead. This fellow is a picture, and I am
glad they have not mutilated or broken him. He is just the hoss I have
been looking for, for our folks go in to the handle for fast trotters,
and drive so much and ride so little, it ain't easy to get the right
saddle beast in our State. The Cape Breton pony is of the same breed,
though poor feed, exposure to the weather, and rough usage has caused
him to dwindle in size; but they are the toughest, hardiest,
strongest, and most serviceable of their inches, I know anywhere."

I always feel scared when I git on the subject of hosses for fear I
should ear-wig people, so I stopt short; "And," sais I, "Doctor, I
think I have done pretty well with the talking tacks, spose you give
me some of your experience in the trapping line, you must have had
some strange adventures in your time."

"Well, I have," said he, "but I have listened with pleasure to you,
for although I am not experienced in horses, performing most of my
journeys on foot, I see you know what you are talking about, for I am
familiar with the anatomy of the horse. My road is the trackless
forest, and I am more at home there than in a city. Like you I am fond
of nature, but unlike you I know little of human nature, and I would
rather listen to your experience than undergo the labour of acquiring
it. Man is an artificial animal, but all the inhabitants of the forest
are natural. The study of their habits, propensities, and instincts is
very interesting, and in this country the only one that is formidable
is the bear, for he is not only strong and courageous, but he has the
power to climb trees, which no other animal will attempt in pursuit of
man in Nova Scotia. The bear therefore is an ugly customer,
particularly the female when she has her cubs about her, and a man
requires to have his wits about him when she turns the table on him
and hunts him. But you know these things as well as I do, and to tell
you the truth there is little or nothing that is new to be said on the
subject; one bear hunt is like another. The interest of these things
is not so much in their incidents or accidents, as in the mode of
telling them."

"That's a fact," sais I, "Doctor. But what do you suppose was the
object Providence had in view in filling the world with beasts of
prey? The east has its lions, tigers, and boa-constrictors; the south
its panthers and catamounts; the north its bears and wolves; and the
west its crocodiles and rattle-snakes. We read that dominion was given
over the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, and the beast of the
forest, and yet no man in a state of nature scarcely is a match for
any one of these creatures; they don't minister to his wants, and he
can't tame them to his uses."

"I have often asked myself, Slick," said he, "the same question, for
nothing is made in vain, but it is a query not easy to answer. My own
opinion is, they were designed to enforce civilisation. Without these
terrors attending a sojourn in the wilderness, man would have wandered
off as they do, and lived alone; he would have made no home, dwelt
with no wife, and nurtured no children. His descendants would have
done the same. When he encountered another male, he would have given
him battle, perhaps killed and eat him. His very language would have
perished, if ever he had any, and he would have been no better than an
ourang-outang. The option was not given him. He was so constructed and
so situated, he could not live alone. Individual strength was
insufficient for independent existence. To preserve life he had to
herd with his kind. Thus tribes were first formed, and to preserve one
tribe from the violence of another, they again united and formed
nations. This combination laid the foundation of civilisation, and as
that extended, these beasts of prey retired to the confines of the
country, enforcing while they still remain the observance of that law
of nature which assigned to them this outpost duty.

"Where there is nothing revealed to us on the subject, all is left to
conjecture. Whatever the cause was, we know it was a wise and a
necessary one; and this appears to me to be the most plausible reason
I can assign. Perhaps we may also trace a further purpose in their
creation, in compelling by the terror they inspire the inferior
animals to submit themselves to man, who is alone able to protect them
against their formidable enemies, or to congregate, so that he may
easily find them when he requires food; and may we not further infer
that man also may by a similar sense of weakness be led to invoke in
like manner the aid of Him who made all things and governs all things?
Whatever is, is right," and then he quoted two Latin lines.

I hate to have a feller do that, it's like throwin' an apple into the
water before a boy. He either has to lose it and go off disappointed,
wonderin' what its flavour is, or else wade out for it, and like as
not get out of his depth afore he knows where he is. So I generally
make him first translate it, and then write it down for me. He ain't
likely after that to do it a second time. Here are the words:


"Siquid novisti rectius istis
Candidas imperti, si non his utere mecum."



CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CUCUMBER LAKE.


"Here is a place under the lee bow," said the pilot, "in which there
are sure to be some coasters, among whom the mate may find a market
for his wares, and make a good exchange for his mackarel."

So we accordingly entered and cast anchor among a fleet of
fore-and-afters in one of those magnificent ports with which the
eastern coast is so liberally supplied.

"There is some good salmon-fishing in the stream that falls into the
harbour," said the doctor, "suppose we try our rods;" and while Cutler
and his people were occupied in traffic, we rowed up the river beyond
the little settlement, which had nothing attractive in it, and landed
at the last habitation we could see. Some thirty or forty acres had
been cleared of the wood, the fields were well fenced, and a small
stock of horned cattle, principally young ones, and a few sheep, were
grazing in the pasture. A substantial rough log hut and barn were the
only buildings. With the exception of two little children playing
about the door, there were none of the family to be seen.

On entering the house, we found a young woman, who appeared to be its
sole occupant. She was about twenty-five years of age; tall, well
formed, strong, and apparently in the enjoyment of good health and
spirits. She had a fine open countenance, an artless and prepossessing
manner, and was plainly but comfortably clad in the ordinary homespun
of the country, and not only looked neat herself, but everything
around her was beautifully clean. It was manifest she had been brought
up in one of the older townships of the province, for there was an
ease and air about her somewhat superior to the log hut in which we
found her. The furniture was simple and of rude manufacture, but
sufficient for the wants of a small family, though here and there was
an article of a different kind and old-fashioned shape, that looked as
if it had once graced a substantial farm-house, probably a present
from the inmates of the old homestead.

We soon found from her that she and her husband were as she said new
beginners, who, like most persons in the wilderness, had had many
difficulties to contend with, which from accidental causes had during
the past year been greatly increased. The weavil had destroyed their
grain crop and the rot their potatoes, their main dependence, and they
had felt the pressure of hard times. She had good hopes however she
said for the present season, for they had sowed the golden straw
wheat, which they heard was exempt from the ravages of insects, and
their potatoes had been planted early on burnt land without barn
manure, and she was confident they would thereby be rescued from the
disease. Her husband, she informed us, in order to earn some money to
make up for their losses, had entered on board of an American fishing
vessel, and she was in daily expectation of his arrival, to remain at
home until the captain should call for him again, after he had landed
his cargo at Portland. All this was told in a simple and unaffected
manner, but there was a total absence of complaint or despondency,
which often accompany the recital of such severe trials.

Having sent Sorrow back in the boat with an injunction to watch our
signal of recall, we proceeded further up the river, and commenced
fishing. In a short time we killed two beautiful salmon, but the black
flies and musquitoes were so intolerably troublesome, we were
compelled to return to the log hut. I asked permission of our
cheerful, tidy young hostess to broil a piece of the salmon by her
fire, more for the purpose of leaving the fish with her than anything
else, when she immediately offered to perform that friendly office for
us herself.

"I believe," she said, "I have a drawing of tea left," and taking from
the shelf a small mahogany caddy, emptied it of its contents. It was
all she had. The flour-barrel was also examined and enough was
gathered, as she said by great good luck, to make a few cakes. Her old
man, she remarked, for so she termed her young husband, would be back
in a day or two and bring a fresh supply. To relieve her of our
presence, while she was busied in those preparations, we strolled to
the bank of the river, where the breeze in the open ground swept away
our tormentors, the venomous and ravenous flies, and by the time our
meal was ready, returned almost loaded with trout. I do not know that
I ever enjoyed anything more than this unexpected meal. The cloth was
snowy white, the butter delicious, and the eggs fresh laid. In
addition to this, and what rendered it so acceptable, it was a free
offering of the heart.

In the course of conversation I learned from her, that the first year
they had been settled there they had been burnt out, and lost nearly
all they had, but she didn't mind that she said, for, thank God, she
had saved her children, and she believed they had originally put up
their building in the wrong place. The neighbours had been very kind
to them, helped them to erect a new and larger house, near the
beautiful spring we saw in the green; and besides, she and her husband
were both young, and she really believed they were better off than
they were before the accident.

Poor thing, she didn't need words of comfort, her reliance on
Providence and their own exertions was so great, she seemed to have no
doubt as to their ultimate success. Still, though she did not require
encouragement, confirmation of her hopes, I knew, would be grateful to
her, and I told her to tell her husband on no account to think of
parting with or removing from the place, for I observed there was an
extensive intervale of capital quality, an excellent mill privilege on
the stream where I caught the salmon, and as he had the advantage of
water carriage, that the wood on the place, which was of a quality to
suit the Halifax market, would soon place him in independent
circumstances.

"He will be glad to hear you think so, Sir," she replied, "for he has
often said the very same thing himself; but the folks at the
settlement laugh at him when he talks that way, and say he is too
sanguine. But I am sure he ain't, for it is very much like my poor
father's place in Colchester, only it has the privilege of a harbour
which he had not, and that is a great thing."

The signal for Sorrow having been hung out for some time, we rose to
take leave, and wishing to find an excuse for leaving some money
behind me, and recollecting having seen some cows in the field, I
asked her if she could sell me some of her excellent butter for the
use of the cabin. She said she could not do so, for the cows all had
calves, and she made but little; but she had five or six small prints,
if I would accept them, and she could fill me a bottle or two with
cream.

I felt much hurt--I didn't know what to do. She had given me her last
ounce of tea, baked her last cake, and presented me with all the
butter she had in the house. "Could or would you have done that?" said
I to myself, "come, Sam, speak the truth now." Well, Squire, I only
brag when I have a right to boast, though you do say I am always brim
full of it, and I won't go for to deceive you or myself either, I know
I couldn't, that's a fact. I have mixed too much with the world, my
feelings have got blunted, and my heart ain't no longer as soft as it
used to did to be. I can give, and give liberally, because I am able,
but I give what I don't want and what I don't miss; but to give as
this poor woman did all she had of these two indispensable articles,
tea and flour, is a thing, there is no two ways about it, I could not.

I must say I was in a fix; if I was to offer to pay her, I knew I
should only wound her feelings. She derived pleasure from her
hospitality, why should I deprive her of that gratification? If she
delighted to give, why should I not in a like feeling be pleased to
accept, when a grateful reception was all that was desired--must I be
outdone in all things? must she teach me how to give freely and accept
gracefully?

She shall have her way this hitch, and so will I have mine bime by, or
the deuce is in the die. I didn't surely come to Liscombe Harbour to
be taught those things.

"Tell your husband," sais I, "I think very highly of his location, and
if hard times continue to pinch him, or he needs a helping hand, I am
both able and willing to assist him, and will have great pleasure in
doing so for her sake who has so kindly entertained us in his absence.
Here is my card and address, if he wants a friend let him come to me,
and if he can't do that, write to me, and he will find I am on hand.
Any man in Boston will tell him where Sam Slick lives."

"Who?" said she.

"Sam Slick," sais I.

"My goodness," said she, "are you the Mr Slick who used to sell--" She
paused and coloured slightly, thinking perhaps, as many people do, I
would be ashamed to be reminded of pedling.

"Wooden clocks," sais I, helping her to the word. "Yes," sais I, "I am
Sam Slick the Clockmaker, at least what is left of me."

"Goodness gracious, Sir," said she, advancing and shaking hands
cordially with me, "how glad I am to see you! You don't recollect me
of course, I have grown so since we met, and I don't recollect your
features, for it is so long ago, but I mind seeing you at my father's
old house, Deacon Flint's, as well as if it was yesterday. We bought a
clock from you; you asked mother's leave to let you put it up, and
leave it in the room till you called for it. You said you trusted to
'soft sawder' to get it into the house, and to 'human natur' that it
should never come out of it. How often our folks have laughed over
that story. Dear, dear, only to think we should have ever met again,"
and going to a trunk she took out of a bark-box a silver sixpence with
a hole in it, by which it was suspended on a black ribbon.

"See, Sir, do you recollect that, you gave that to me for a keepsake?
you said it was 'luck-money.'"

"Well," sais I, "if that don't pass, don't it? Oh, dear, how glad I am
to see you, and yet how sad it makes me too! I am delighted at meetin'
you so onexpected, and yet it makes me feel so old it scares me. It
only seems as if it was the other day when I was at your father's
house, and since then yon have growd up from a little girl into a tall
handsome woman, got married, been settled, and are the mother of two
children. Dear me, it's one o' the slaps old Father Time gives me in
the face sometimes, as much as to hint, 'I say, Slick, you are gettin'
too old now to talk so much nonsense as you do.' Well," sais I, "my
words have come true about that silver sixpence."

"Come here, my little man," sais I to her pretty curly-headed little
boy; "come here to me," and I resumed my seat. "Now," sais I, "my old
friend, I will show you how that prophecy is fulfilled to this child.
That clock I sold to Deacon Flint only cost me five dollars, and five
dollars more would pay duty, freight, and carriage, and all expenses,
which left five pounds clear profit, but that warn't the least share
of the gain. It introduced my wares all round and through the country,
and it would have paid me well if I had given him a dozen clocks for
his patronage. I always thought I would return him that profit if I
could see him, and as I can't do that I will give it to this little
boy," so I took out my pocket-book and gave her twenty dollars for
him.

"Come," sais I, "my friend, that relieves my conscience now of a debt
of gratitude, for that is what I always intended to do if I got a
chance."