they fell; and yelled, and groaned, and hissed, till they could cry no longer.
“I shall move,” said the General, when he could make himself heard, “that the Watertoast Association of United Sympathisers be immediately dissolved!”
Down with it! Away with it! Don't hear of it! Burn its records! Pull the room down! Blot it out of human memory!
“But, my fellow-countrymen!” said the General, “the contributions. We have funds. What is to be done with the funds?”
It was hastily resolved that a piece of plate should be presented to a certain constitutional Judge, who had laid down from the Bench the noble principle that it was lawful for any white mob to murder any black man; and that another piece of plate, of similar value should be presented to a certain Patriot, who had declared from his high place in the Legislature, that he and his friends would hang without trial, any Abolitionist who might pay them a visit. For the surplus, it was agreed that it should be devoted to aiding the enforcement of those free and equal laws, which render it incalculably more criminal and dangerous to teach a negro to read and write than to roast him alive in a public city. These points adjusted, the meeting broke up in great disorder, and there was an end of the Watertoast Sympathy.
As Martin ascended to his bedroom, his eye was attracted by the Republican banner, which had been hoisted from the house-top in honour of the occasion, and was fluttering before a window which he passed.
“Tut!” said Martin. “You're a gay flag in the distance. But let a man be near enough to get the light upon the other side and see through you; and you are but sorry fustian!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FROM WHICH IT WILL BE SEEN THAT MARTIN BECAME A LION OF HIS OWN ACCOUNT. TOGETHER WITH THE REASON WHY
As soon as it was generally known in the National Hotel, that the young Englishman, Mr Chuzzlewit, had purchased a “location” in the Valley of Eden, and intended to betake himself to that earthly Paradise by the next steamboat, he became a popular character. Why this should be, or how it had come to pass, Martin no more knew than Mrs Gamp, of Kingsgate Street, High Holborn, did; but that he was for the time being the lion, by popular election, of the Watertoast community, and that his society was in rather inconvenient request there could be no kind of doubt.
The first notification he received of this change in his position, was the following epistle, written in a thin running hand—with here and there a fat letter or two, to make the general effect more striking—on a sheet of paper, ruled with blue lines.
“NATIONAL HOTEL,
“MONDAY MORNING.
“Dear Sir—'When I had the privillidge of being your fellow-traveller in the cars, the day before yesterday, you offered some remarks upon the subject of the tower of London, which (in common with my fellow-citizens generally) I could wish to hear repeated to a public audience.
“As secretary to the Young Men's Watertoast Association of this town, I am requested to inform you that the Society will be proud to hear you deliver a lecture upon the Tower of London, at their Hall to-morrow evening, at seven o'clock; and as a large issue of quarter-dollar tickets may be expected, your answer and consent by bearer will be considered obliging.
“Dear Sir,
“Yours truly,
“LA FAYETTE KETTLE.
“The Honourable M. Chuzzlewit.
“P. S. —The Society would not be particular in limiting you to the Tower of London. Permit me to suggest that any remarks upon the Elements of Geology, or (if more convenient) upon the Writings of your talented and witty countryman, the honourable Mr Miller, would be well received.”
Very much aghast at this invitation, Martin wrote back, civilly declining it; and had scarcely done so, when he received another letter.
“No. 47, Bunker Hill Street,
“Monday Morning.
“(Private).
“Sir—I was raised in those interminable solitudes where our mighty Mississippi (or Father of Waters) rolls his turbid flood.
“I am young, and ardent. For there is a poetry in wildness, and every alligator basking in the slime is in himself an Epic, selfcontained. I aspirate for fame. It is my yearning and my thirst.
“Are you, sir, aware of any member of Congress in England, who would undertake to pay my expenses to that country, and for six months after my arrival?
“There is something within me which gives me the assurance that this enlightened patronage would not be thrown away. In literature or art; the bar, the pulpit, or the stage; in one or other, if not all, I feel that I am certain to succeed.
“If too much engaged to write to any such yourself, please let me have a list of three or four of those most likely to respond, and I will address them through the Post Office. May I also ask you to favour me with any critical observations that have ever presented themselves to your reflective faculties, on “Cain, a Mystery,” by the Right Honourable Lord Byron?
“I am, Sir,
“Yours (forgive me if I add, soaringly),
“PUTNAM SMIF
“P. S. —Address your answer to America Junior, Messrs. Hancock & Floby, Dry Goods Store, as above.”
Both of which letters, together with Martin's reply to each, were, according to a laudable custom, much tending to the promotion of gentlemanly feeling and social confidence, published in the next number of the Watertoast Gazette.
He had scarcely got through this correspondence when Captain Kedgick, the landlord, kindly came upstairs to see how he was getting on. The Captain sat down upon the bed before he spoke; and finding it rather hard, moved to the pillow.
“Well, sir!” said the Captain, putting his hat a little more on one side, for it was rather tight in the crown: “You're quite a public man I calc'late.”
“So it seems,” retorted Martin, who was very tired.
“Our citizens, sir,” pursued the Captain, “intend to pay their respects to you. You will have to hold a sort of le-vee, sir, while you're here.”
“Powers above!” cried Martin, “I couldn't do that, my good fellow!”
“I reckon you MUST then,” said the Captain.
“Must is not a pleasant word, Captain,” urged Martin.
“Well! I didn't fix the mother language, and I can't unfix it,” said the Captain coolly; “else I'd make it pleasant. You must re-ceive. That's all.”
“But why should I receive people who care as much for me as I care for them?” asked Martin.
“Well! because I have had a muniment put up in the bar,” returned the Captain.
“A what?” cried Martin.
“A muniment,” rejoined the Captain.
Martin looked despairingly at Mark, who informed him that the Captain meant a written notice that Mr
