The Atlantic Monthly Part 18

/

The Atlantic Monthly



The Atlantic Monthly Part 18


A.--Andante (_smorzando_).

B.--Adagio (_crescendo_).

C.--Allegro (_sforzando_).

Instantaneously rose resplendent

THE MIDNIGHT SUN.

_The Luminary._--Hullo!

_The Satellite._--Ah! got back? Is that you, Mr. Rink?

_The Luminary._--Wal, ef 't a'n't me, 't 's my nose. Mebby y' a'n't aware, young man, that you planted your shoe-leather on my olfactory?

_The Satellite._--Indeed, no, Sir. I thought I felt something under my foot, as I was getting up. So it seems it was your nose. Beg your pardon, Sir,--entirely unintentional. Hope I----

_The Luminary._--Who's your shoemaker? What do you wear for cow-hide?

_The Satellite._--An excellent artist, a long way from Paris. I have on at this moment a very neat thing in English gaiters, of respectable dimensions, toe-corners sharp as Damascus blade, three-fourths of an inch in sole, one and a half inches in heel, with a plenty of half-inch, cast-steel nails all round,--quite a neat thing, I a.s.sure you.

_The Luminary._--Whew!

_The Satellite._--But I hope, Sir, I haven't injured your nose?

_The Luminary._--Can't tell jest yit. Anyhow, you gev me a proper sneezer, a most pertickler hahnsome socdolager, I vum! Landed jest below the peepers. But hold on till mornin', an' see how breakfast sets. I allers estimate the nose by the stomach. Ef I find my stomach's all right, 't 'll be a sure sign that the smellers are pooty rugged.

_The Satellite._--That's rather an odd idea. I was aware that the nose is a natural guide to the stomach, but didn't know that the reverse would hold good. What is the----

_The Luminary._--Poor rule that wun't work both ways. Six of one and half a dozen of the other. Do you s'pose the nose could afford to work free gratis for the stomach, with plenty to do an' nothin' to git? No, Sir, not by a jugful! People that want favors mustn't be stingy in givin' on 'em. It's on the scratch-my-back-an'-I'll-tickle-your-elbow system. The stomach's got to keep up his eend o' the rope, or he'll jest go under, sure. One good turn deserves another, you know.

_The Satellite._--Yes, a very pretty theory, and certainly a just one.

Quite on the Mutual-Benefit principle. Still, I should be inclined to doubt whether there are facts sufficient to sustain it.

_The Luminary._--Wal, my hearty, you jest belay a bit up there; clew down your hatches ship-shape, git everythin' all trig, an' lay to. Why, my Christian friend, I intend to post you up thoroughly. Your edication's been neglected. Facts? Facts? Bless your noddle, there's plenty on 'em, ef a man knows beans. Now I'm jest a-goin' to let daylight into that little knowledge-box o' yourn, an' fill it with good, wholesome idees, clean up to the brim, an' runnin' over,--good, honest, Shaker measure. I'll give ye more new wrinkles afore mornin' than ever you dreamed of in your physiology, valooable hints, an' nuthin' to pay.

Being now securely camped on my mountain-height, I peered out upon the horizon beneath, and signified to the Luminary that the gas might at once be turned on full blaze.

"As when the sun new risen Looks through the horizontal misty air,"

so gleamed, no longer nebulous, but now full-orbed, the bright star Diaetetica,--a central sun, holding within its ample bosom the star-dust of whole galaxies, infinite gastric constellations.

_The Luminary._--"Any fool'll allow that there's nerves, an' plenty on 'em, all over the body. All these nerves come from the stomach. Fact is, they're the stomach's errand-boys. They run round an' do his ch.o.r.es jest as he says, an' then trot back ag'in. He's an awful hard master, though,--likes to shirk, an' makes 'em lug round all his baggage an'

chicken-fixin's. When he gits grumpy, which is pooty consid'able often, he's death on some on 'em,--jest walks into 'em like chain-lightnin'

into a gooseberry-bush. When he's gouty, he kicks up a most etarnal touse with the great-toe nerve, an' slaps it right into him fore an'

aft, the wust kind. Folks hev asked me why the gout pitches into the great toe wuss than the rest on 'em. It's jest as nateral as Natur'. I cal'late it's a special Providence for the benefit of the hull human family, to hang out a big sign jest where folks ken see it, to show up the man who's ben an' sinned ag'inst his stomach. When he limps round in flannel, he's a conspicoous hobblin' advertis.e.m.e.nt, a fust-cut lecterer on temperance, an' the horrible example to boot. Now you know the way the stomach an' nerves fay in.

"Wal, then ag'in, there's another set,--the stomach's own blood-relations. He's head o' the family, an' they all work in together nice an' handy, jest as slick as grease. Lam ary one on 'em, an' you got to lam the whole boodle. Jest like a hornet's nest: shake a stick at ary one o' the group, an' they all come buzzin' round te'ble miffy in less 'n no time. There's the nose,--he wears a coat jest as well 's the stomach: he's the stomach's favorite grandson, the Benjamin of the flock. Say anythin' to him, an' the stomach takes it up; say anythin' to the stomach, an' he takes it up. All in a family-way, ye see. Love me, love my dorg. There's no disputin' the fact, that you can't kill ary one on 'em without walkin' over the dead body of the others. You can't whip ary one on 'em except over the others' shoulders. Now you know who the nose is, who his connections are, an' what's his geneology. He's descended from the stomach in the second degree, an' will be heir to all the property, ef so be he's true to himself an' the family. Ef he a'n't, th' old man'll cut him off with a shillin', sure.

"Now dyspepsy's of two kinds,--the mucous an' the nervous; an' as I'm a sinner, every mother's son an' daughter has got one on 'em. The nervous, as you will naterally s'pose from my remarks, is a sort o' hired help,--friend o' the family, like a poor relation,--handy to hev in the house, an' all that. The other allers takes pot-luck with the family, runs in an' out jest as he pleases,--chip o' the old block, one o' the same crowd, you know. It's considered ruther more hon'able, in course, to hev this one. None o' the man-waiter or sarvant-gal about him. A chap with the mucous looks kind o' slick an' smooth, an' feels his oats pooty wal; but a codger with the nervous is sort o' thin an' wild-like.

Wholesalers ginerally hev the fust, an' retailers the second; though, 'casionally, I hev known exceptions. A bank-president invariably has the second; an' I never seen an apple-woman without the other. All accordin'

to Natur', ye see. But either on 'em 'll do. Take jest whichever you can git,--that's my advice,--an' thank Providence. They'll either on 'em be faithful friends, never desert ye, cling closer than a brother, never say die, stick to ye, in p'int o' fact, like a sick kitten to a hot brick. It's jest as I said,--every critter's got one on 'em. But there's no two men alike, so there's no two dyspepsies alike. There never was, an' never will be. 'T 's exackly like the human family, divided into two great cla.s.ses, black an' white, long-heel an' short-heel. Jes' so ...

nervous ... mucous ... Magna Charta ... Palladium of our liberties ...

ark of our safety ... manifest destiny ... Const.i.tootion of our forefathers ... fit, bled, an' died ... independence forever ... one an'

inseparable ... last drop o' blood...."

How it was I don't quite know; but I think that at this point the Luminary must have sunk below the horizon. Possibly his Satellite may have suffered an eclipse in this quarter of the heavens. I can barely recall a thin doze, in which these last eloquent fragments, transfigured into sprites and kobolds, wearing a most diabolical grin, seemed to be chasing each other in furious and endless succession through my brain, or playing at hide-and-seek among the convolutions of the cerebrum.

After a while, they wearied of this rare sport, scampered away, and left me in profound sleep till morning.

VII.--MATINS.

Whank!--tick-a-lick!--ker-thump!--swoosh!--Whank!--tick-a-lick!-- ker-thump!--swoosh!--These were the sounds that first greeted my opening ears. So, then, we were fairly under way, advancing, if not rejoicing.

Our freighted Icarus was soaring on well-oiled wings: how soon might his waxy pinions droop under the fierce gaze of the sun! At least it was a satisfaction to know that thus far the gloomy forebodings of the Seer had not been fulfilled. On looking out through a six-inch rose-window, I saw joyous daylight dancing over the boundless, placid waters,--not a speck of land in sight. We must have started long since; but my eyes, fast sealed under the opiate rays of the Luminary, had hitherto refused to ope their lids to the garish beams of his rival. Soon I heard beneath a rustling snap, as of a bow, and suddenly there sped forth the tw.a.n.ging shaft of the

_First Victim._--I say!

_Second Victim._--Very sensible, but brief. Give us another bit.

_First Victim._--How are ye this mornin'?

_Second Victim._--Utterly glorified. Delicious sleep,--splendid day,--balmy air, with condiments thrown in. I hope you are nicely to-day?

_First Victim._--Wal, no, can't say I be. Feel sort o' seedy like,--feel jest 's ef I'd ben creouped up in a sugar-box. Couldn't even git a cat-nap,--didn't sleep a wink.

_Second Victim._--That's bad, indeed; but the bracing air here will soon----

_First Victim._--Air! That 'ere dock-smell nigh finished me. No skim-milk smell about that, but the ginooine jam,--an awful pooty nosegay! 'T was reg'lar rank p'is'n. Never see anythin' like it. Oh, 'twas te'ble! Took hold o' my nose dreffle bad; I'm afeard my stomach'll be a goner. 'T wa'n't none o' yer sober perfumes nuther, but kind o'

half-seas-over all the time, an' pooty consid'able in the wind. Judge there's ben a large fatality in cats lately. Ugh! that blamed dock-smell! Never forgit it the longest day I live. Don't b'lieve I breathed oncet all night.

_Second Victim._--Yes, it was slightly aromatic, I confess,--'Sabaean odors from the spicy sh.o.r.es of Araby the Blest,'--you know what Milton says. But there's one great comfort: this thick night-air is so very healthy, you know. I think you made a very great mistake, Mr. Rink, in not inhaling it thoroughly. I kept pumping it in all night, from a sense of duty, at forty bellows-power.

_First Victim._--(Rising, and dragging up to the mountain-crib the artillery of a ghostly face, and training it point-blank at Second Victim.)--Young man, don't trifle!

_Second Victim._--Pardon me, Sir, I am not trifling, I have sound reasons for what I say. Your education, Sir, has apparently been neglected. Wait one moment, and I'll give you a new idea, which will contribute materially to your happiness. You will at once admit, I take it, that oxygen and carbonic acid stand at opposite poles in their relations to the respiratory system; also, that said dock-smell was a mixture of carbonic acid of various kinds, and of different degrees of intensity; and, lastly, that animal and vegetable life are complements of each other,--correlatives, so to speak.

_First Victim._--Sartin: that's Natur' an' common sense.

_Second Victim._--Now, then, plants naturally absorb carbonic acid and give off oxygen during daylight. At night, the process is reversed: then they absorb oxygen and give off carbonic acid. In a similar, but reverse way, man, who was plainly intended to inhale oxygen and exhale carbonic acid in his waking hours, should, in his sleeping hours, in order to be consistent with himself and with Nature, inhale only dense carbonic acid and exhale oxygen. Men and plants make Nature's see-saw: one goes up as the other goes down. Hence it follows as a logical sequence, that the truly wise man, who seeks to comply with the laws of Nature, and to fulfil the great ends of his existence, will choose for his sleeping-apartment the closest quarters possible, and will welcome the fumes which would be noisome by day. For my part, therefore, I feel profoundly grateful even for one night of this little crib. It has already done much for me. I feel confident that it has contributed greatly to my span of life. I am deeply beholden to the owners, to the captain, yea, to all the crew. And for the blessed dock-smell I shall ever be thankful:--

"'T were worth ten years of mortal life, One glance at its array."

It will not be amiss to say to you, Mr. Rink, that this theory is sanctioned by one of the leading ornaments of the French Academy. He has advocated it, in an elaborate treatise, with an eloquence and power worthy of its distinguished author. He shows, in pa.s.sages of singular purity, that beasts, whose instincts teach them far more of the laws of Nature than our reason teaches us, always retire to sleep in a place where they can obtain the closest, healthiest air. In the last communication sent to me on this subject by the learned Professor, he proves conclusively that----

_First Victim._ (His artillery now rumbling down the heights on the full gallop.)--I snum, that's awful! Wal, I never see,--'t beats the Dutch!

No kind o' use talkin' with sech a chap. Never see so much nonsense in one head 's that critter's got in his.

VIII.--JENTACULAR.






Tips: You're reading The Atlantic Monthly Part 18, please read The Atlantic Monthly Part 18 online from left to right.You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only).

The Atlantic Monthly Part 18 - Read The Atlantic Monthly Part 18 Online

It's great if you read and follow any Novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest Novel everyday and FREE.


Top