The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman PotterAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
Political fiction
which I had twice spoken before her, that the variations might be
squared to the occasion. My shoe bench I sold for a trifle, and my
pegs and awls were consigned to the children for playthings. The
Tippecanoe side of politics being the most popular, as well as
profitable, I tied to it at once; and on going to the "Coon-meeting"
surprised and astonished every one with the power and arguments of
my speech. I may indeed humbly say, I flashed into greatness with
the quickness of lightning. Neither Cicero nor Lycurgus were ever,
in their day, thought so well of by the multitudes. It got noised
about that Webster would have to give up to me. And I am sure that
if the elder Adams or Jefferson had been living, they would have
been set down by the editors, in the gravest sentences they were
capable of penning, as mere shadows in comparison."
Here the major paused to make room for the Provincetown stage; a
great yellow coach, full of passengers, which we had come upon
suddenly. The driver of the stage, not liking the slow pace in which
old Battle was proceeding to make room for him, laid his whip
briskly over his haunches, quickening his movements, but driving the
major into a furious passion. The sudden twitch landed us both upon
the sandy road, under the pile of sheepskins we had used for a seat.
In this dilemma the major called loudly for assistance, swearing
that if the stage driver would but stop he would give him battle to
his satisfaction. This only served to increase the mirth of the
passengers, who rather encouraged their mischievous driver, now
looking round and making grimaces at his adversary. The major,
however, was not long in extricating himself from the sheepskins,
when, for want of a better weapon, he seized a string of tin pints,
and running as fast as his short legs would carry him, hurled them
one after another at the stage coach. Ceasing to afford the
passengers this amusement only when his wind gave out, the major
swore by his military reputation that if they would only give him an
opportunity he would whip the stageload before breakfast, and think
it a mere trifle. The coach now rolled out of sight, and the major
sat down by the road side to contemplate the loss of his tin cups,
which like spilled apples, were strewn along the sand. It would not
do to suffer so great a loss, so he girded up his nether garments,
and commenced picking up his cups, lamenting their bruises as he
strung them upon his string. Finding that we sustained no other loss
than that of the major's temper, I set his team to rights, and,
having mounted the sheepskins, we were ready to proceed on our
journey. "Such an insult as that offered to me when I was in the
Mexican war," said he, mounting over the wheel with one of those
expletives much used among soldiers, "and I had demolished the lot
at a stroke of my sword. Zounds! why can't stage drivers be
gentlemen?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account