Guy Rivers: A Tale of GeorgiaSimms, William Gilmore
History
Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia
Simms, William Gilmore
Georgia -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction
So spake another of the company, who, having been much delectified with
the trial, had been particularly solicitous in his cries for order.
Jenkins was not indisposed to the affray, and made an angry retort,
which provoked another still more angry; but other parties interfering,
the new difficulty was made to give place to that already in hand. The
imputation upon Jenkins, that his ignorance of the claims of the clock
to gentle treatment, alone, had induced it to speak thirty-one times,
and at length refuse to speak at all, had touched his pride; and, sorely
vexed, he retired upon a glass of whiskey to the farther corner of the
room, and with his pipe, nursing the fumes of his wrath, he waited
impatiently the signal for the wild mischief which he knew would come.
In the meanwhile, the examination of the culprit proceeded; but, as we
can not hope to convey to the reader a description of the affair as it
happened, to the life, we shall content ourselves with a brief summary.
The chair went on rapidly enumerating the sundry misdeeds of the Yankee,
demanding, and in most cases receiving, rapid and unhesitating
replies--evasively and adroitly framed, for the offender well knew that
a single unlucky word or phrase would bring down upon his shoulders a
wilderness of blows.
"You are again charged, Bunce, with having sold to Colonel Blundell a
coffee-pot and two tin cups, all of which went to pieces--the solder
melting off at the very sight of the hot water."
"Well, lawyer, it stands to reason I can't answer for that. The tin
wares I sell stand well enough in a northern climate: there may be some
difference in yours that I can't account for; and I guess, pretty much,
there is. Now, your people are a mighty hot-tempered people, and take a
fight for breakfast, and make three meals a day out of it: now, we in
the north have no stomach for such fare; so here, now, as far as I can
see, your climate takes pretty much after the people, and if so, it's no
wonder that solder can't stand it. Who knows, again, but you boil your
water quite too hot? Now, I guess, there's jest as much harm in boiling
water too hot, as in not boiling it hot enough. Who knows? All I can say
is, that the lot of wares I bring to this market next season shall be
calkilated on purpose to suit the climate."
The chairman seemed struck with this view of the case, and spoke with a
gravity corresponding with the deep sagacity he conceived himself to
have exhibited.
"There does seem to be something in this; and it stands to reason, what
will do for a nation of pedlers won't do for us. Why, when I recollect
that they are buried in snows half the year, and living on nothing else
the other half, I wonder how they get the water to boil at all. Answer
that, Bunce."
"Well, lawyer, I guess you must have travelled pretty considerable down
east in your time and among my people, for you do seem to know all about
the matter jest as well and something better than myself."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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