The Sun.
London, England, 1849-01-17 00:00:00

or Life in a Colony,
-- -

By Sam Slick. 2 Vas.

We are glad Co meet again our old friend " The
Clockmaker,” and to find him as warm-hearted, as
spirited, and as good-humouredly sarcastic as ever.
One of the objects of these volumes is to give an idea
of the various peculiarities of colonial life, an-
other, and a more important one, is to amuse
and interest the reader. Both objects have been
successfully accomplished—the latter most trium-
phantly. Both volumes abound in lively sallies,
capital sk@tchek, of men and manners, interesting
narratives, and amusing anecdotes, all given in Sam
Slick's attractive and inimitable manner. Here
and there, in our wanderings through the co-
lony, we meet with some interminable talker,
from whose lips, once opened, pours forth an endless
stream of anecdotes, reminiscences, and incredible
facts, related with the most unblushing effrontery,
mingled—strange as it may seem—with maxims
of wisdom and lessons of philosophy, doubly
attractive, and hence doubly valuable, from
the quaint and original manner in which
they are set torth. As a sample of the charac-
ters to be met with in this colony, and also as a
specimen of Sam Slick's rattling style, we beg to intro-
duce Master Zeb Hunt, " a drover and horse-jockey,
who lives on the road, and is the pest of every tavern,
and the torment of all travellers."

" Morning to you, Squire !' he said, in his accus-
tomed loud tone and familiar manner. lam glad to
see you. I have been waiting for you for some time, to
look at a horse I have here, that will just suit:you. lie
is great, that's a fact; a perfi et case, I assure you. He
can trot his mile in two minutes and thirty seconds,
and no break, shuffle-rack, or pace, but a handsome
round trot, with splendid knee action; not pawing the
air like make-believe, nor pounding the road like break-
ing stones, but a sort of touch-me-light-and-go-easy
style, like the beat of a gall's finger on the pianny;
and so gentle, a child can manage him. When you
want him to go, take up the reins and he's off like a
fox; when you want him to stop, throw them down,
and he'll stand all day. The way he makes the spokes
fly round in a wheel, so that you can only see the
rim, as if it was a hoop, is. amazing. It frightened me
at fir.t, and I ain't easy scared by a horse. He is a
su-perior animal, beyond all doubt. I never was suited
before in all my lice, and I don't know as he ain't spoilt
me, so I shall be suited agin. Sometimes I think I
can't part with him any how, for I can't never get
another like him; and sometimes I take a notion into
my head I ought to sell him, as it is too much money
for a poor man like me to have in a horse. You've
hearn tell of Heber of Windsor, haven't you? Well,
he's crazy after him; and, if he don't know a good one
when he sees him, he does when he tries him, and that's
more than most men do. I'd like you to have him, for
you are a judge of a horse,— perhaps the best in these
parts (though I've seen the leak put into you, too, afore
now.) You will take good care of him, and I wouldn't
like to see the critter knocked about like a corn. He
will lead your tandem beautiful, and keep his traces up,
without doing the whole work and killing himself. A
thread will guide him; and then he knows how to slack
up a going down hill, so as not to drag the wheeler off
his legs. Oh, he's a doll! His sinews are all scorpion
tails and whipcords, and he's muscle enough for two
beasts of his size. You can't fault him in no particular,
for he is perfect, head or neck, shoulder or girth, back or
loins, stifle or hock, or chest and bastions; and, as for
hoofs, they actilly seem as if they was made a purpose
for a trotter. In fact, you may say he's the greatest
piece of stuff ever wrapped up in a horse-hide. Come
and look at him, and judge for yourself. My price is
two fifty; but, if you like him, say the word, and he
is yours at two hundred dollars, for I'd like you to
have him. I consait he'll suit you to a notch, and do
me credit too. Heavens and airth! ain't be the boy
to slip by the officers' tandems club to Halifax, like wink,
and you a sitting at your ease, pretending to hold him
in, and passing of them, nodding and laughing good-
natured-like, as much as to say, 'Don't you wish you
could keep the road now you've go it?"'

Zeb's truthfulness being called- in question, he thus
satisfactorily establishes his character as a " candid"
man :

" Squire,' he said, turning away with apparent con-
tempt from the man who had traduced him, if there is
any one thin°.. I pride myself upon in the world, it is on
being candid. I am straight up and down; what I say
I mean, and what I mean I'll stand to. I take all man-
kind to be rogues, more or less, and, what's more,
canting, hypocritical rogues, too ; for they pretend they
are honest, all the time they are cheating the world and
the devil. Now, I am straightforward, open, and above
board. I pretend to nothing. I won't say not get
the advantage if I can in a horse trade, or any other
trade. I don't deny it. I avow it open. What sort of
a deal would it be, were I to get the disadvantage
always? Why, in six months, I shouldn't have a horse
to trade with; for, what is trade, if you come to that, but
gambling with the chances in your favour? I am not
bound to tell my horses' faults. I don't like to dwell on
the faults of my friends ; I praise their virtues. People
don't cry stinking fish, in a giniral way, in any market
I was ever in yet, because folks have noses, and can smell
for themselves. I don't talk of sprains, curbs, and ring-
bones; people have eyes, and can see for themselves:
and, it' they are too plaguy careless to look, whose fault
is that? No, sir, I scorn a dirty thing. 1 conceal no.
thing. I say, publicly, I expect the advantage in a bar-
gain; and, it' I can't get it, I don't trade. That's my
rule, sir; and I don't care who knows it. I hate and
despise pretence. The world's lull of it. Every man, in
a giniral way, has more cloaks to cover his villany than
shirts to cover his back?
" My eyes were first opened to the baseness and
falsehood of mankind in elections. I had no idea what
ofthe
rascals politicians were—canting about patriotism, re-
form, public spirit, education, ameliorating the condition
people, and so on; and all the time using these
slan,; words as blinds to conceal office and place seek-
ntgi
r,
sst selthteed in li
nds,giretiiss the itngetry
public) ticketmone,yi,or I am a loyal
and whatnot.
Iman, and so was father afore me. lie was a refugee
loyalist, and left the States and all his property to follow

the flag of his king into this cold country, that's only fit
for wolves and hears. Well, we had a great election to
I4hy, and we carried in our Tory man, Lawyer Clana
(him that was rttia-d en the mud flats to the joggin);
and, w hen cur side won the day, alias I went to get my
share of the plunder, he had the impudence to tell me
all the offices that could be spared must be given to the
Radicals, to conciliate them. ' Conciliate old Scratch!'
says I: ' giving them fellows sops, is like giving bits of
raw meat to bull-dogs ; it only makes them hungrier,
furiouser, and wickeder.' But so it was, and so it always
has been, with that party, in America; they don't stick
to their friends, and I ginu them up in disgust, and
changed sides right away.
"' I am a candid man. lam willing to serve the
country, but then I like reciprocation, and the country
ought to serve me. Friendship can't stand on one leg
long, and, if it does, it's plain it can't go ahead much at
at any rate. Well. bymeby, the Rads come in. ' Now,'
said I, ' remember Z, b Hunt; he wants an office.' But,
lo and behold! the offices were all wanted for the leaders,
and there were none left for the followers but the office
of drudges. Seeing they were both tarred with the same
stick, one side of which had too much liberality, and the
other too much selfishness, I thought my chance would
be better to lay hold on both ends of the rope; and I
went on both sides, one foot on one and one foot on
t'uther; but they pulled so far apart, they straddled me
so wide, they nearly split me up to the chin. Politics,
squire, are like pea-soup; they are all very well and very
good when kept well stirred; but, as soon as the stir is
over, the thin part floats up by itself, and the rich and
thick settles down for them Who are at the bottom of
things. Who ever heard of a fellow like me being
choked by a Government loaf, or his throat hurt by the
bone of a fish that's too large to swallow? Now, I've
taken uncle Tim's place; lam neuter. I avow it, for I'm
a candid man; and a fellow can't be honest if he don't
speak up plain. lam neuter now, and courted by both
sides, and whichever comes nearest my mark will get me.
But neuter is my ticket just now.' "
_

Zeb has all the talk to himself. The most casual
observation draws from him anecdote upon anecdote,
of which the following is a specimen. A friend in-
quires after his mother, and hopes she enjoys good
health:—

' Pretty well,' replied Master Zeb; pretty much as
usual; she is about and stirring, though she complains
a little of rheumatism lately, and my opinion is, it was
" Chick, chick, chick !" that caused it.'
" Chick, chick, chick !' said'the other; what under
the sun's that ? I never heard of such a complaint !'
" Lord bless you !' said Zeb. I thought that every
body that know'd mother, know'd that story. Five years
ago, come next summer, the old lady made a trip to Ha-
lifax, in one of our Digby coasters, to see sister Susan-
nah, that is married in that city to Ted Fowler, the up-
holsterer, and took a whole lot of little notions with her
to market to bear expenses; for she is a saving kind of
body, is mother, and likes to make two ends meet at the
close of the year. Among the rest, was the world and
all of eggs, for she was a grand hand in a poultry-yard.
Some she stowed away in boxes, and some in baskets,
and some in tubs, so that no one accident could lose them
all for her. Well, under the berths in the cabin were
large drawers for bedding; and she routated that out, and
packed them full of eggs in wool, as snug as you please,
and off they started on their voyage. Well, they had
nothing but calms, and light airs, or head winds, and
were ever so long in getting to town; and, when they
anchored, she got her duds together, and began to collect
her eggs all ready for landing. The first drawer she
opened, out hopped ever so many chickens on the cabin
floor, skipping and hopping about, a-chirping, " Chick,
chick, chick 1" like anything !
" Well, if that don't beat all !' said mother, and she
looked the very picture of doleful dumps. I hope there
is no more of them a coming into the world that way,
without being sent for and she opened a second, and
out came a second flock, with a ' Chick, chick, chick !'
and another and another, till she pulled them all out.
The cabin floor was chock full of them; for the heat and
confined bilge air had hatched all the eggs that were in
the close and hot drawers.

" Oh, the captain, and passengers, and sailors, they
roared with laughter I Mother was awful mad, for no-
thing makes one so angry as accidents that set folks off a
tee-hee-ing in that way. If any body had been to blame
but herself, wouldn't they have caught it, that's all? for
scolding is a great relief to a woman; but as there war'nt
nothing left but to cry; and scolding and crying are
two safety-valves that have saved many a heart from
busting.

" Well, the loss was no great, though she liked to
take care of her coppers, too; it was the vexation that
worried her. But the worst was to come yet. When
she returned home, the boys to Digby got hold of the
story, and, wherever she went, they called out after her
" Chick, chick, chick 1" I skinned about half-a-dozen
of the little imps of mischief for it, but it only made
them worse ; for they hid in porches, and behind doors,
and gates, and fences, as soon as they seed her a-coming,
and roared out, " Chick, chick, chick 1" and nearly
bothered her to death. So she give going out any more,
and never leaves home now. It's my opinion, her rheu-
matism is nothing but the effect of want of exercise, and
all comes from that cursed Chick, chick, chick 1' "

According to the oft-quoted fable, a brick is no spe-
cimen of a house, and these extracts give but an
inadequate idea of the fund of wit and wisdom con-
tained in these very amusing volumes.

NEW MUSIC.

1. MY BROAD LANDS I HOLD IN TRUST
FOR THE POOR. Sung by Mr. Weiss. Com-
posed by E. J. Loder.
2. SAY WILT THOU ROAM WITH ME.
Sung by Miss Poole. Composed by E. J. Loder.
3. OH ! WERE NOT THIS A WORK OF

BLISS. Sung by Miss Poole. Composed by E.
J. Loder.
4. OH! SWEET REMEMBRANCE OF

DAYS LONG VANISHED. Sung by lir.
Charles Braham. Composed by E. J. Loder.
5. MY VILLAGE CHURCH. Ballad sung by
Mr. Weiss. Composed by E. J. Loder.
The above songs are all from the ballad opera of
Robin Goodfellow, one of the most beautiful of
Loder's compositions, and which is now being
performed nightly at the Princess's Theatre
with almost unexampled success. No. 1 and
No. 5 are bass songs ; both are excellent;
but the melody of the latter is more flowing, and from
the sentiment expressed in the words, and admirably
rendered in the music, it cannot fail to be popular.
No. 1 is a glorious composition, full of spirit and
warmheartedness. It is just the song for an amateur
to sing to a party assembled around the Christmas
fireside. Nos. 2 and 3 are beautiful and graceful
melodies, No. 2 being a most agreeable and sparkling
composition. No. 4 is an exquisitely plaintive me•
lody, full of sentiment and expression. It is by no
means difficult of execution, and will no doubt be a
great favourite with all amateurs who possess a to-
lerable tenor voice.