The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England, vol 2 | Page 8

know it by from all others. Oh it's an everlastin' pity you warn't here, when I was to England last time. Queen was there then; and where she is, of coarse all the world and its wife is too. She warn't there this year, and it sarves folks right. If I was an angelyferous queen, like her, I wouldn't go nowhere till I had a tory minister, and then a feller that had a "trigger-eye" would stand a chance to get a white hemp-neckcloth. I don't wonder Hume don't like young England; for when that boy grows up, he'll teach some folks that they had better let some folks alone, or some folks had better take care of some folks' ampersands that's all.
"The time I speak of, people went in their carriages, and not by railroad. Now, pr'aps you don't know, in fact you can't know, for you can't cypher, colonists ain't no good at figurs, but if you did know, the way to judge of a nation is by its private carriages. From Hyde Park corner to Ascot Heath, is twenty odd miles. Well, there was one whole endurin' stream of carriages all the way, sometimes havin' one or two eddies, and where the toll-gates stood, havin' still water for ever so far. Well, it flowed and flowed on for hours and hours without stoppin', like a river; and when you got up to the race-ground, there was the matter of two or three tiers of carriages, with the hosses off, packed as close as pins in a paper.
"It costs near hand to twelve hundred dollars a-year to keep up a carriage here. Now for goodness' sake jist multiply that everlastin' string of carriages by three hundred pounds each, and see what's spent in that way every year, and then multiply that by ten hundred thousand more that's in other places to England you don't see, and then tell me if rich people here ain't as thick as huckleberries."
"Well, when you've done, go to France, to Belgium, and to Prussia, three sizeable places for Europe, and rake and scrape every private carriage they've got, and they ain't no touch to what Ascot can show. Well, when you've done your cypherin', come right back to London, as hard as you can clip from the race-course, and you won't miss any of 'em; the town is as full as ever, to your eyes. A knowin' old coon, bred and born to London, might, but you couldn't.
"Arter that's over, go and pitch the whole bilin' of 'em into the Thames, hosses, carriages, people, and all; and next day, if it warn't for the black weepers and long faces of them that's lost money by it, and the black crape and happy faces of them that's got money, or titles, or what not by it, you wouldn't know nothin' about it. Carriages wouldn't rise ten cents in the pound in the market. A stranger, like you, if you warn't told, wouldn't know nothin' was the matter above common. There ain't nothin' to England shows its wealth like this.
"Says father to me when I came back, 'Sam,' sais he, 'what struck you most?'
"'Ascot Races,' sais I.
"'Jist like you,' sais he. 'Hosses and galls is all you think of. Wherever they be, there you are, that's a fact. You're a chip of the old block, my boy. There ain't nothin' lake 'em; is there?'
"Well, he was half right, was father. It's worth seein' for hosses and galls too; but it's worth seein' for its carriage wealth alone. Heavens and airth, what a rich country it must be that has such a show in that line as England. Don't talk of stock, for it may fail; or silver-smiths' shops, for you can't tell what's plated; or jewels, for they may be paste; or goods, for they may be worth only half nothin'; but talk of the carriages, them's the witnesses that don't lie.
"And what do they say? 'Calcutta keeps me, and China keeps me, and Bot'ney Bay keeps me, and Canada keeps me, and Nova Scotia keeps me, and the whales keep me, and the white bears keep me, and every thing on the airth keeps me, every thing under the airth keeps me. In short, all the world keeps me.'"
"No, not all the world, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell; "there are some repudiative States that _don't keep me_; and if you go to the auction rooms, you'll see some beautiful carriages for sale, that say, 'the United States' Bank used to keep me,' and some more that say, 'Nick Biddle put me down.'"
"Minister, I won't stand that," said Mr. Slick. "I won't stay here and hear you belittle Uncle Sam that way for nothin'. He ain't wuss than John Bull, arter all. Ain't there no swindle-banks