Martin Chuzzlewit
sherry-cobblers, Mark, and we’ll drink success to the firm.’
Either he forgot already (and often afterwards), that they were no
longer master and servant, or considered this kind of duty to be among
the legitimate functions of the Co. But Mark obeyed with his usual
alacrity; and before they parted for the night, it was agreed between
them that they should go together to the agent’s in the morning, but
that Martin should decide the Eden question, on his own sound judgment.
And Mark made no merit, even to himself in his jollity, of this
concession; perfectly well knowing that the matter would come to that in
the end, any way.
The General was one of the party at the public table next day, and after
breakfast suggested that they should wait upon the agent without loss of
time. They, desiring nothing more, agreed; so off they all four
started for the office of the Eden Settlement, which was almost within
rifle-shot of the National Hotel.
It was a small place--something like a turnpike. But a great deal of
land may be got into a dice-box, and why may not a whole territory be
bargained for in a shed? It was but a temporary office too; for the
Edeners were ‘going’ to build a superb establishment for the transaction
of their business, and had already got so far as to mark out the site.
Which is a great way in America. The office-door was wide open, and in
the doorway was the agent; no doubt a tremendous fellow to get through
his work, for he seemed to have no arrears, but was swinging backwards
and forwards in a rocking-chair, with one of his legs planted high up
against the door-post, and the other doubled up under him, as if he were
hatching his foot.
He was a gaunt man in a huge straw hat, and a coat of green stuff. The
weather being hot, he had no cravat, and wore his shirt collar wide
open; so that every time he spoke something was seen to twitch and jerk
up in his throat, like the little hammers in a harpsichord when the
notes are struck. Perhaps it was the Truth feebly endeavouring to leap
to his lips. If so, it never reached them.
Two grey eyes lurked deep within this agent’s head, but one of them had
no sight in it, and stood stock still. With that side of his face he
seemed to listen to what the other side was doing. Thus each profile had
a distinct expression; and when the movable side was most in action, the
rigid one was in its coldest state of watchfulness. It was like
turning the man inside out, to pass to that view of his features in his
liveliest mood, and see how calculating and intent they were.
Each long black hair upon his head hung down as straight as any plummet
line; but rumpled tufts were on the arches of his eyes, as if the crow
whose foot was deeply printed in the corners had pecked and torn them in
a savage recognition of his kindred nature as a bird of prey.
Such was the man whom they now approached, and whom the General saluted
by the name of Scadder.
‘Well, Gen’ral,’ he returned, ‘and how are you?’
‘Ac-tive and spry, sir, in my country’s service and the sympathetic
cause. Two gentlemen on business, Mr Scadder.’
He shook hands with each of them--nothing is done in America without
shaking hands--then went on rocking.
‘I think I know what bis’ness you have brought these strangers here
upon, then, Gen’ral?’
‘Well, sir. I expect you may.’
‘You air a tongue-y person, Gen’ral. For you talk too much, and that’s
fact,’ said Scadder. ‘You speak a-larming well in public, but you didn’t
ought to go ahead so fast in private. Now!’
‘If I can realise your meaning, ride me on a rail!’ returned the
General, after pausing for consideration.
‘You know we didn’t wish to sell the lots off right away to any loafer
as might bid,’ said Scadder; ‘but had con-cluded to reserve ‘em for
Aristocrats of Natur’. Yes!’
‘And they are here, sir!’ cried the General with warmth. ‘They are here,
sir!’
‘If they air here,’ returned the agent, in reproachful accents, ‘that’s
enough. But you didn’t ought to have your dander ris with ME, Gen’ral.’
The General whispered Martin that Scadder was the honestest fellow in
the world, and that he wouldn’t have given him offence designedly, for
ten thousand dollars.
‘I do my duty; and I raise the dander of my feller critters, as I
wish to serve,’ said Scadder in a low voice, looking down the road
and rocking still. ‘They rile up rough, along of my objecting to their
selling Eden off too cheap. That’s human natur’! Well!’
‘Mr Scadder,’ said the General, assuming his oratorical deportment.
‘Sir! Here is my hand, and here my heart. I esteem you, sir, and ask
your pardon. These gentlemen air friends of mine, or I would not have
brought ‘em here, sir, being well aware, sir, that the lots at present
go entirely too cheap. But these air friends, sir; these air partick’ler
friends.’
Mr Scadder was so satisfied by this explanation, that he shook the
General warmly by the hand, and got out of the rocking-chair to do it.
He then invited the General’s particular friends to accompany him into
the office. As to the General, he observed, with his usual benevolence,
that being one of the company, he wouldn’t interfere in the transaction
on any account; so he appropriated the rocking-chair to himself, and
looked at the prospect, like a good Samaritan waiting for a traveller.
‘Heyday!’ cried Martin, as his eye rested on a great plan which occupied
one whole side of the office. Indeed, the office had little else in it,
but some geological and botanical specimens, one or two rusty ledgers, a
homely desk, and a stool. ‘Heyday! what’s that?’
‘That’s Eden,’ said Scadder, picking his teeth with a sort of young
bayonet that flew out of his knife when he touched a spring.
‘Why, I had no idea it was a city.’
‘Hadn’t you? Oh, it’s a city.’
A flourishing city, too! An architectural city! There were banks,
churches, cathedrals, market-places, factories, hotels, stores,
mansions, wharves; an exchange, a theatre; public buildings of all
kinds, down to the office of the Eden Stinger, a daily journal; all
faithfully depicted in the view before them.
‘Dear me! It’s really a most important place!’ cried Martin turning
round.
‘Oh! it’s very important,’ observed the agent.
‘But, I am afraid,’ said Martin, glancing again at the Public Buildings,
‘that there’s nothing left for me to do.’
‘Well! it ain’t all built,’ replied the agent. ‘Not quite.’
This was a great relief.
‘The market-place, now,’ said Martin. ‘Is that built?’
‘That?’ said the agent, sticking his toothpick into the weathercock on
the top. ‘Let me see. No; that ain’t built.’
‘Rather a good job to begin with--eh, Mark?’ whispered Martin nudging
him with his elbow.
Mark, who, with a very stolid countenance had been eyeing the plan and
the agent by turns, merely rejoined ‘Uncommon!’
A dead silence ensued, Mr Scadder in some short recesses or vacations of
his toothpick, whistled a few bars of Yankee Doodle, and blew the dust
off the roof of the Theatre.
‘I suppose,’ said Martin, feigning to look more narrowly at the plan,
but showing by his tremulous voice how much depended, in his mind, upon
the answer; ‘I suppose there are--several architects there?’
‘There ain’t a single one,’ said Scadder.
‘Mark,’ whispered Martin, pulling him by the sleeve, ‘do you hear that?
But whose work is all this before us, then?’ he asked aloud.
‘The soil being very fruitful, public buildings grows spontaneous,
perhaps,’ said Mark.
He was on the agent’s dark side as he said it; but Scadder instantly
changed his place, and brought his active eye to bear upon him.
‘Feel of my hands, young man,’ he said.
‘What for?’ asked Mark, declining.
‘Air they dirty, or air they clean, sir?’ said Scadder, holding them
out.
In a physical point of view they were decidedly dirty. But it being
obvious that Mr Scadder offered them for examination in a figurative
sense, as emblems of his moral character, Martin hastened to pronounce
them pure as the driven snow.
‘I entreat, Mark,’ he said, with some irritation, ‘that you will
not obtrude remarks of that nature, which, however harmless and
well-intentioned, are quite out of place, and cannot be expected to be
very agreeable to strangers. I am quite surprised.’
‘The Co.’s a-putting his foot in it already,’ thought Mark. ‘He must be
a sleeping partner--fast asleep and snoring--Co. must; I see.’
Mr Scadder said nothing, but he set his back against the plan, and
thrust his toothpick into the desk some twenty times; looking at Mark
all the while as if he were stabbing him in effigy.
‘You haven’t said whose work it is,’ Martin ventured to observe at
length, in a tone of mild propitiation.
‘Well, never mind whose work it is, or isn’t,’ said the agent sulkily.
‘No matter how it did eventuate. P’raps he cleared off, handsome, with a
heap of dollars; p’raps he wasn’t worth a cent. P’raps he was a loafin’
rowdy; p’raps a ring-tailed roarer. Now!’
‘All your doing, Mark!’ said Martin.
‘P’raps,’ pursued the agent, ‘them ain’t plants of Eden’s raising. No!
P’raps that desk and stool ain’t made from Eden lumber. No! P’raps no
end of squatters ain’t gone out there. No! P’raps there ain’t no such
location in the territoary of the Great U-nited States. Oh, no!’
‘I hope you’re satisfied with the success of your joke, Mark,’ said
Martin.
But here, at a most opportune and happy time, the General interposed,
and called out to Scadder from the doorway to give his friends the
particulars of that little lot of fifty acres with the house upon it;
which, having belonged to the company formerly, had lately lapsed again
into their hands.
‘You air a deal too open-handed, Gen’ral,’ was the answer. ‘It is a lot
as should be rose in price. It is.’
He grumblingly opened his books notwithstanding, and always keeping his
bright side towards Mark, no matter at what amount of inconvenience
to himself, displayed a certain leaf for their perusal. Martin read it
greedily, and then inquired:
‘Now where upon the plan may this place be?’
‘Upon the plan?’ said Scadder.
‘Yes.’
He turned towards it, and reflected for a short time, as if, having
been put upon his mettle, he was resolved to be particular to the
very minutest hair’s breadth of a shade. At length, after wheeling his
toothpick slowly round and round in the air, as if it were a carrier
pigeon just thrown up, he suddenly made a dart at the drawing, and
pierced the very centre of the main wharf, through and through.
‘There!’ he said, leaving his knife quivering in the wall; ‘that’s where
it is!’
Martin glanced with sparkling eyes upon his Co., and his Co. saw that
the thing was done.
The bargain was not concluded as easily as might have been expected
though, for Scadder was caustic and ill-humoured, and cast much
unnecessary opposition in the way; at one time requesting them to think
of it, and call again in a week or a fortnight; at another, predicting
that they wouldn’t like it; at another, offering to retract and let them
off, and muttering strong imprecations upon the folly of the General.
But the whole of the astoundingly small sum total of purchase-money--it
was only one hundred and fifty dollars, or something more than thirty
pounds of the capital brought by Co. into the architectural concern--was
ultimately paid down; and Martin’s head was two inches nearer the roof
of the little wooden office, with the consciousness of being a landed
proprietor in the thriving city of Eden.
‘If it shouldn’t happen to fit,’ said Scadder, as he gave Martin the
necessary credentials on recepit of his money, ‘don’t blame me.’
‘No, no,’ he replied merrily. ‘We’ll not blame you. General, are you
going?’
‘I am at your service, sir; and I wish you,’ said the General, giving