Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
Noon by the north clock! Noon by the east! High noon, too, by these hot
sunbeams, which full, scarcely aslope, upon my head and almost make the
water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, we public
characters have a tough time of it! And among all the town-officers
chosen at March meeting, where is he that sustains for a single year
the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed in perpetuity upon
the town-pump? The title of “town-treasurer” is rightfully mine, as
guardian of the best treasure that the town has. The overseers of the
poor ought to make me their chairman, since I provide bountifully for
the pauper without expense to him that pays taxes. I am at the head of
the fire department and one of the physicians to the board of health.
As a keeper of the peace all water-drinkers will confess me equal to
the constable. I perform some of the duties of the town-clerk by
promulgating public notices when they are posted on my front. To speak
within bounds, I am the chief person of the municipality, and exhibit,
moreover, an admirable pattern to my brother-officers by the cool,
steady, upright, downright and impartial discharge of my business and
the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer or winter, nobody
seeks me in vain, for all day long I am seen at the busiest corner,
just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich and poor alike,
and at night I hold a lantern over my head both to show where I am and
keep people out of the gutters. At this sultry noontide I am cupbearer
to the parched populace, for whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to
my waist. Like a dramseller on the mall at muster-day, I cry aloud to
all and sundry in my plainest accents and at the very tiptop of my
voice.
Here it is, gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walk up, walk up,
gentlemen! Walk up, walk up! Here is the superior stuff! Here is the
unadulterated ale of Father Adam—better than Cognac, Hollands, Jamaica,
strong beer or wine of any price; here it is by the hogshead or the
single glass, and not a cent to pay! Walk up, gentlemen, walk up, and
help yourselves!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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