" 'Demagogue'!" mutters Dr. Franklin. "Our excellent Sprout Penn, the latest of his crypto-Jesuit ruling family, and his Satanick arrangement with Mr. Allen, his shameless Attentions to the Presbyterian Mobility,— has the effrontery to speak of 'crushing this Demagogue'— well, well, aye, Demagogue...Milton thought it a 'Goblin word,' that might yet describe good Patriots,— '
"Good Patriots all!" cries the impulsive Mr. Dixon, raising his Cup.
Dr. Franklin observes them, one at a time, through the tinted lenses of Spectacles of his own Invention, for moderating the Glare of the Sun, whose Elevation upon his Nose varies, according to the message it hap?pens to be inflecting, giving over all the impression of a Visitor from very far away indeed. The Geometers have encounter'd the eminent Philadel-phian quite by chance, in the pungent and dim back reaches of an Apothecary in Locust-Street, each Gentleman upon a distinct mission of chemical Necessity, as among these shelves and bins, the Godfrey's Cor?dial and Bateman's Drops, Hooper's Female Pills and Smith's Medicinal Snuff, hasty bargains are struck, Strings of numbers and letters and alchemists' Signs whisper'd (and some never written down), whilst a quiet warm'd Narcosis, as of a drawing to evening far out in a Country of fields where drying herbal crops lie, just perceptibly breathing, possesses the Shop Interior, rendering it indistinct as to size, legality, or destiny.
Dixon is accosting at length a clerk who has taken him for one more English tourist hectically out in search of Chinamen's Drugs,— "Any- thing, ideally, with Ooahpium in it will do...? Al-cohol to keep it in solu?tion of course...perhaps some For-mulation that would go well with the Daffy's Elixir of which we plan to purchase,— eeh, how many Cases was that again, Mr. Mason...?"
Mason glares back, too keenly aware of the celebrated American Philosopher's Eye upon them,— having hoped to project before it, some?how, at least the forms of Precedence,— but of course Dixon's rustic Familiarities have abolish'd, yet again, any such hope,— one more Sta?tion of the Cross to be put up with. "Any matter of Supply falls into your area, Dixon. Have a word with Mr. McClean if you're not sure," hearing how it sounds, even as he goes on with it.
Dixon remains cheery. "In thah' welcome Event," making a carefree motion in the Air with his Handkerchief, "an hundred Cases should do the trick, for this time out, anyway,— Now as to that Oahpiated article we were discussing,—
"Aye, we call it a Laudanum, Sir,— compounded according to the original Formulae of the noted Dr. Paracelsus, of Germany."
"An hundred Cases?" screams Mason, "have you gone insane? This is a Church-going Province,— 'twill never be authoriz'd."
"Preventive against a variety of Ailments, Sir...?— excellent anti-costive properties,— given the Uncertainty of Diet,—
"The Commissioners know all too well about Daffy's Elixir, and the uses 'tis put to," Mr. Franklin, who has been attending the exchange, here feels he must point out. "And being imported, 'tis only to be had, at prices charg'd in the English-shops. Now, for a tenth of that outrageous sum, our good Apothecary Mr. Mispick will compound you a 'Salutis' impossible to distinguish from the original. Or you may design your own, consulting with him as to your preferr'd Ratio of Jalap to Senna, which variety of Treacle pleases you,— all the fine points of Daffyolatry are known to him, he has seen it all, and nothing will shock or offend him." He raises a Finger. " 'Strangers, heed my wise advice,— Never pay the Retail Price.' "
"This is kind of you Sir, for fair...? Mr. Mason's choices, illustrative of a more Bacchic Leaning, enjoying Priority of mine, so must I rest content with more modest outlays, from my own meager Purse, alas, for any Philtres peculiarly useful to m'self... ?”
Dr. Franklin shifts his Lenses as if for a clearer look at Dixon. A Smile struggles to find its way through lips purs'd in Speculation,— but before it quite may, being the sort of man who, tho' never seen to consult a Time-piece, always knows the exact Time, "Come," he bids the Astronomers abruptly, "— you've not yet been to a Philadelphia Coffee?house? Poh,— we must amend that,— something no Visitor should miss,— I must transact an Item or two of Business,— would you honor me by having a brief Sip at my Local, The Blue Jamaica?"
"London," Mr. Mason is soon reporting, "is quite thoroughly charm'd by your Glass Armonica, thanks to the Artistry of the excellent Miss Davies."
"I have done my utmost to convince Miss Davies that, given the gen?eral Frangibility, use of any strong Vibrato could prove,— putting it as gallantly as possible,— unwise. Yet she plays so beautifully. My idle Toy has found itself fortunately arriv'd, among a small Host of Virtuosi. Heav?ens. The Mozart child,— and these Tales I keep hearing, of the young Parisian Doctor, Mesmer, who plays it, 'tis said, unusually well."
"Not the Magnetickal Gent?" says Mason.
"The very same. Known to the R.S. for some time, I collect."
"At The Mitre, he is ever reliable as a topick of lively Discourse."
"Where Franklin is a Member, and tha've scarcely been a Guest," Dixon may be muttering to himself. Aloud,— " 'Scuse me, Friend," briskly upon his feet, "where does one go over the Heap around here?"
Mr. Franklin points out to him a Door to the Yard, and when he is out of earshot, begins, it seems abruptly, to inquire about the Surveyor's "Calvert connections."
Mason is perplex'd. "I didn't know there were any. I imagin'd, that being of a Quaker family, he was deem'd acceptable to the Pennsylvani-ans, but have ever been at a loss to explain his appeal, if any, to the Marylanders."
"The Calverts are content to live in England,— as they are Catholics, their children are educated across the Channel, in St. Omer. One of the Jesuits teaching there is a certain Le Maire, who is native to Durham and a particular friend of Dixon's teacher, William Emerson,— “
"Yes. But you'd have to ask Dixon about the Jesuit. I know of him only as the partner of Roger Boscovich,— the two degrees of Latitude in Italy,—"
- from Rome to Rimini, aye." Franklin, behind his Orchid-hued
Lenses, waits for Mason to work out the Comparisons.
"What's going on, then?" Mason trying to peer, he hopes not as trucu?lently as he feels, into the shadowy Lunettes.
"You might sometime find yourself discussing these matters with your Second,—
"After which," Mason replies, as Franklin suddenly, with naked nar-row'd eyes, looks over the tops of his Spectacles and nods encouragingly, - I am to relate the Minutes of it all to you?"
Mr. Franklin replacing his "Glasses," "Not if it causes you Discom?fort, Sir. Although some Discomforts may ever be eas'd by timely appli?cation of Ben's Universal Balm,—
- yet do others continue intractable. Why, Dr. Franklin, are you
urging me to this, may I say, dismal choice?"
"Oh,— wagering against your loyalty," Franklin shrugs. "An elemen?tary exercise,— and pray, do not feel you have in any way offended me,— as an adult, I am no stranger to Rejection, I have long learn'd to deal with it in Dignity, as a sane man would,— and without Resentment, motive for it though I may enjoy in Abundance."
"Sir, I cannot spy upon him for you. I am sorry the Politics here have become so, as one would say, Italian, in their intricacies. But my con?tractual Tasks alone will be difficult enough without— ah and here is Mr. Dixon."
"D'you know a lad nam'd Lewis? Said he knew you, Dr. Franklin."
"Where was this?" Franklin has begun twirling the hair upon either side of his Head, into long Curls.
"Just out in the Alley. He tried to sell me a Watch...? said it was a Masonick Astrologer's Model...? Signs of the Zoahdiahck...? Pheases of the Moon,—
"You didn't— "
"Couldn't. Not unless one of you wants to lend me—
"I'll go have a look," Mason rising. "Come along Dixon, and point him out?”
"Eeh, Ah think he's gone...?" Dixon now preoccupied with pouring the contents of a small Vial into his Coffee.
Mason, unable to insist without appearing to wish to consult out of Franklin's hearing, and needing to piss anyhow, shrugs and withdraws. The moment he vanishes, Franklin begins to press Dixon upon the Top-ick of Mason's "East India Company Connections."
"Is thah' the Dutch or the English one?" Dixon's Phiz altogether inno?cent. "Ah'm ever confounding 'em...?"
Franklin at last allowing himself to chuckle. "Friend Dixon,— Loy?alty is a Gem, of Worth innate, Whose price is never notic'd,— till too late."
"We've had an Adventure or two, you see."
"Ah, me. Don't suppose the name Sam Peach of Chalford would ring a Bell...?"
With quizzical sincerity, "One of thoase lads in Th............