The Adventures of My Cousin Smooth | Page 5

He made an upright of himself, and very civilly rejoined that there was
no place this side of Cape Horn--and he doubted if there was on the
other side--where it was so necessary to see the colateral as this
Washington. He was proceeding to say much more, and something
about the doubtful character of General Pierce and his friends, when I
interrupted by saying, I thought he must have forgotten my name.
'Smooth is my name,' I reiterated, 'of the Young American party, the
party that intends doing up the manifest destiny for mankind.'
"'Manifest destiny never pays debts: must see the collateral 'afore we tie
ye up! Fact is, stranger, we must have the hold-fast for fear of the shot
falling short. The General has got so many tin-less friends, who visit
Washington on a small affair of business (here he gave his shoulders a
significant shrug), that a body has to keep a sharp eye in the wind.'
Suddenly he began to drum on the mahogany, screw his face into a disc
of puckers, and look so wise. So glad did he seem, that he whistled
Yankee Doodle with the variations, looked every which way, and then

laughed right out at what he called Smooth's outfit.
"'Needn't laugh at the fixens--old feller!' says I, 'Uncle Sam and me are
going into the tin business, and Sam, being a generous old butt, will
stand all the treats and hotel bills. Besides that, I was born in the very
sand heap where Tom Coffin was raised.'
"'Who cares for Tom' says he, turning aside, and making a polite bow
to a thirsty senator from the far west: the senatorial gent bent his neck
over, and approaching with his lips the ear of the important individual,
whispered something from out the smallest corner. This something,
when translated into decent English, might be rendered thus:--If justice
and gin slings are administered at your bar, pray direct me the way to it!
The fat man pointed up a narrow, dark, and very long passage; and then
suddenly turning to me, he said: 'If Tom Coffin lived now-a-days, when
politics went on the fast, he wouldn't be worth shooks, he not having a
vote, nor wanting an office under the new administration.' 'Now,
stranger,' says I, directing a look as if I was going to strike something at
him, 'don't make such a fuss about the needful--look'a here!' I just
plumps out Uncle Zack Brewster's letter, and having fascinated his eye,
tells him how Cochran and Riggs 'll do the dust. Like an hydraulic
current let loose did the fellow prick up his ears: then he said, 'do tell,'
with a musical emphasis that seemed so full of credit. Again he drew a
long breath, and a seriousness came over his face that could only be
likened to that of a South Carolina locomotive when drawing a whole
convention of secessionists, who, having failed in devising means to
dissolve the 'federal union,' were returning homeward very melancholy.
"'Never doubted Mr. Smooth's word,' says he, with simple
dryness,--'but, notwithstanding, painful is the experience that
office-holders and seekers, though always kind to Uncle Sam, and
tenacious of his dignity and cashbag, seldom maintain the same
earnestness for their own when legitimates are left in the key-hole.'
"'You mean that the General's friends don't shine over on the square?'
"'Precisely so!--Mr. General Pierce himself is a sort of mixed stripe; but
his friends (and he has regiments of them!), all fighters in the Mexican

war when he was brigadier, expect so much something material for
themselves that all outsiders are forgotten. Now and then the General is
sorry to inform his many friends that he is a little ill; to which a voice
here and there is heard to say that he is not inclined to do the clean
thing.'
"Well, I saw what the feller wanted; so I pulled out a fist full of shiners,
just to show him what Young America could do. The seeing the dimes
smoothed him down into the most agreeable amiability. His face
loomed out with good natur, his feelings seemed coming right from his
inards; and he struck up Yankee Doodle by way of an offset.
"'Pooty full, Mr. Smooth,' he generously remarked, 'but we must try
accommodate you somehow! We'll tuck you away in a spare corner,
high up!'
"'That's a good soul,' said I,--'know'd ye warn't a bad sort of
fellow,--when a body understood how to get the good out!'
"'Apartments for Solomon Smooth, Esq., from Cape Cod,' he said,
mutteringly, looking over his book, and drumming with his fingers on
the page. Mr. Smooth, in proof of his fast principles, will have no
objection to tying up in the seventh story?'
"'Rather stiff that, Major! Young America can do