The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna - Джеймс Фенимор Купер страница 13
* The periodical visits of St. Nicholas, or Santa Claus, as he is
termed, were never forgotten among the inhabitants of New York, until
the emigration from New England brought in the opinions and usages of
the Puritans, like the “bon homme de Noel.” he arrives at each
Christmas.
The black grinned, conscious of the bribe that was offered him for silence on the subject of the deer, while Richard, without in the least waiting for the termination of his cousin's speech, began his reply:
“Learn to drive, sayest thou, Cousin 'Duke? Is there a man in the county who knows more of horse-flesh than myself? Who broke in the filly, that no one else dare mount, though your coachman did pretend that he had tamed her before I took her in hand; but anybody could see that he lied—he was a great liar, that John—what's that, a buck?” Richard abandoned the horses, and ran to the spot where Marmaduke had thrown the deer, “It is a buck! I am amazed! Yes, here are two holes in him, he has fired both barrels, and hit him each time, Egod! how Marmaduke will brag! he is a prodigious bragger about any small matter like this now; well, to think that 'Duke has killed a buck before Christmas! There will be no such thing as living with him—they are both bad shots though, mere chance—mere chance—now, I never fired twice at a cloven foot in my life—it is hit or miss with me—dead or run away-had it been a bear, or a wild-cat, a man might have wanted both barrels. Here! you Aggy! how far off was the Judge when this buck was shot?”
“Oh! massa Richard, maybe a ten rod,” cried the black, bending under one of the horses, with the pretence of fastening a buckle, but in reality to conceal the grin that opened a mouth from ear to ear.
“Ten rod!” echoed the other; “way, Aggy, the deer I Killed last winter 'was at twenty—yes! if anything it was nearer thirty than twenty. I wouldn't shoot at a deer at ten rod: besides, you may remember, Aggy, I only fired once.”
“Yes, massa Richard, I 'member 'em! Natty Bumppo fire t'oder gun. You know, sir, all 'e folks say Natty kill him.”
“The folks lie, you black devil!” exclaimed Richard in great heat. “I have not shot even a gray squirrel these four years, to which that old rascal has not laid claim, or some one else for him. This is a damned envious world that we live in—people are always for dividing the credit at a thing, in order to bring down merit to their own level. Now they have a story about the Patent,* that Hiram Doolittle helped to plan the steeple to St. Paul's; when Hiram knows that it is entirely mine; a little taken front a print of his namesake in London, I own; but essentially, as to all points of genius, my own.”
* The grants of land, made either by the crown or the state, were but
letters patent under the great seal, and the term “patent” is usually
applied to any district of extent thus conceded; though under the
crown', manorial rights being often granted with the soil, in the
older counties the word “manor” is frequently used. There are many
manors in New York though all political and judicial rights have
ceased.
“I don't know where he come from,” said the black, losing every mark of humor in an expression of admiration, “but eb'rybody say, he wounerful handsome.”
“And well they may say so, Aggy,” cried Richard, leaving the buck and walking up to the negro with the air of a man who has new interest awakened within him, “I think I may say, without bragging, that it is the handsomest and the most scientific country church in America. I know that the Connecticut settlers talk about their West Herfield meeting-house; but I never believe more than half what they say, they are such unconscionable braggers. Just as you have got a thing done, if they see it likely to be successful, they are always for interfering; and then it's tea to one but they lay claim to half, or even all of the credit. You may remember, Aggy, when I painted the sign of the bold dragoon for Captain Hollister there was that fellow, who was about town laying brick-dust on the houses, came one day and offered to mix what I call the streaky black, for the tail and mane; and then, because it looks like horse-hair, he tells everybody that the sign was painted by himself and Squire Jones. If Marmaduke don't send that fellow off the Patent, he may ornament his village with his own hands for me,” Here Richard paused a moment, and cleared his throat by a loud hem, while the negro, who was all this time busily engaged in preparing the sleigh, proceeded with his work in respectful silence. Owing to the religious scruples of the Judge, Aggy was the servant of Richard, who had his services for a time,* and who, of course, commanded a legal claim to the respect of the young negro. But when any dispute between his lawful and his real master occurred, the black felt too much deference for both to express any opinion.
* The manumission of the slaves in New York has been gradual. When
public opinion became strong in their favor, then grew up a custom of
buying the services of a slave, for six or eight years, with a
condition to liberate him at the end of the period. Then the law
provided that all born after a certain day should be free, the males
at twenty—eight and the females at twenty-five. After this the owner
was obliged to cause his servants to be taught to read and write
before they reached the age of eighteen, and, finally, the few that
remained were all unconditionally liberated in 1826, or after the
publication of this tale. It was quite usual for men more or less
connected with the Quakers, who never held slaves to adopt the first
expedient.
In the mean while, Richard continued watching the negro as he fastened buckle after buckle, until, stealing a look of consciousness toward the other, he continued: “Now, if that young man who was in your sleigh is a real Connecticut settler, he will be telling everybody how he saved my horses, when, if he had let them alone for half a minute longer, I would have brought them in much better, without upsetting, with the whip amid rein—it spoils a horse to give him his heal, I should not wonder if I had to sell the whole team, just for that one jerk he gave them,” Richard paused and hemmed; for his conscience smote him a little for censuring a man who had just saved his life. “Who is the lad, Aggy—I don't remember to have seen him before?”
The black recollected the hint about Santa Claus; and, while he briefly explained how they had taken up the person in question on the top of the mountain, he forbore to add anything concerning the accident or the wound, only saying that he believed the youth was a stranger. It was so usual for men of the first rank to take into their sleighs any one they found toiling through the snow, that Richard was perfectly satisfied with this explanation. He heard Aggy with great attention, and then remarked: