WHEN Tickler parted company with the general, it was with the understanding that they meet again in a day or two, and consummate the agreement whereby the adroit critic was to follow the fortunes of his master through politics and war. He therefore went directly to his home, and returned thanks for the mercy of this opportune deliverance from his dire necessities. A shilling he had not had in his pocket for several days; and as to the five dollars, it would enable him to assume a position of no small importance among his friends at the opera.
As to the general, he awoke early in the morning, and began to contemplate his honors. There could not be the slightest doubt of his fame in politics, seeing how many distinguished persons had sought to pay him homage. Indeed, he had been carried by a process known only to politicians to an incredible height of popularity, which, being vain of, he bore with a patience and cheerfulness equaled only by the docility of old Battle, his horse. The city fathers, it must be mentioned, finding him not quite up to their expectations, were endeavoring to drop him with as little noise as possible. But it seemed a question which was most deceived, the general or the city fathers. The latter found the former a shallow pated man, who from mere joking, had been made to believe himself a great politician, and by a singular cleverness in committing to memory the altered speeches of others, had created for himself a respectability that always vanished on an acquaintance with him; while the former declared that the population of a city was no proof of the amount of moral rectitude by which its government was conducted, seeing that he had found those of the city fathers with whom he had come in contact, very craggy headed men, and sadly deficient in everything but creating disorders and bringing disgrace upon the city: in fine, that they were not what they ought to be.
The general now began to look about him for means whereby he could distinguish himself in war, and make his fame national. He argued within himself that however famous a man might become in politics, there was an uncertainty always impending. But to be famous in war, was something as durable as time, and which always excited the warmest admiration of one's countrymen. And while he, with confused fancies flitting through his imagination, was thus contemplating his present greatness and future prospects, a servant entered, bearing a letter.
"Love of me!" exclaimed the general, "It's from my wife, Polly!"
A superscription in a series of hieroglyphics that would have defied the combined erudition of Rawlinson and Layard, the general deciphered thus: "To Major Roger Sherman Potter. In New York." The seal, which was of broken wafers, pressed with a thimble, was broken xwith eager anxiety, and the general, his eyes transfixed on the dingy page, read the contents, which ran thus:
"Barnstable, June -, 185.--"My Dear husban
"You knows i niver did like these ere politiks, for all the expereiance i've had in um tells me they nethir brings meat nor pays the store bills. I see they bin making ever so much on you yinder in New York; but that ant nothin', when a body has debts to pay, and childirn to shoe and larn. I know, and you know i know, that when you was young you had capacity (talent they call it) enuff to get to Congriss; and thats why i tried so to get you there, and sold all the ducks and chickens, and strained, you know, ever so many ways to help you up in the world; but now i see there's not a whit a use int, for i've a come convinsed that them politiks makes an honest man a rogue, and sends his soul to the devil, and his family to the town-house. I like to see you made so much of, for i have the nateral feelins of a wife, and if, as you used to say, i didn't know much of filosofy, why i have some sense, and want you to come straight home, and see to your poor family, for it takes all we can get for binding shoes to buy bread. But what i want to tell you is three days after you left on the Two Marys, Sheriff Warner come with a rit, and carried away the three pigs, and Warner has bin donnin me life out for that old store bill, and Draner says he wont wait another day for the rent, and Aldrich says you owe him ten dollars borrowed money, which you had better pay afore you make so much noise in New York. But what i want to tell you is, that i lent what little money you left to Captain Ben Larnard, who says he can't pay it back right away, but will when his wife gits home, though Captain Spelt's wife says she's run off with another man. And there's that trifle due when you went away to Jefferson Bigelow the butcher, he keeps a lookin in and giving me the startles, and saying how Squire Benson lives at the corner. Now as you love your poor wife and children come home, and let politiks alone, and provide for your children like a good christian and an honest man, which I have heard it said a politishon cant be. And this is the prayer of your true and affeckshonite wife POLLY POTTER."
"A bombshell from my wife Polly, sure enough!" ejaculated the general; "but she is a sensible woman, and with learning would have made her mark in the world. A man must not look back though, but renew his demonstrations against misfortune, and then if he succeed let him thank his energy. And yet it is true, as my wife Polly says, my politics have brought me in but little meat, and my children have often times gone scantily clad, whereas they might have had plenty if I'd stuck to the bench. However, a point approached, is a point gained, and now that my hand is almost upon a mission, which will repay for all my disappointments, it will not do to walk back into the house and shut the door."
Thus the hero reasoned within himself. It was true, old Battle was eating his head off. But the pig had made a wonderful sensation, and so crowded the house every night as to demonstrate the fact that first rate talent of every kind was highly appreciated in New York. The critics, with scarcely a dissenting voice, had declared the pig a marvel, a profound embodiment of talent, one of the wonders of the age; an animal possessed of such rare gifts that no lover of the curious in natural history should lose the opportunity of witnessing his performances. And in order to diversify these distinguished and very popular entertainments, the clever showman had introduced a piece called "Evenings with the Critics," in one scene of which was presented a litter of nine precocious pigs, habited in bright, colored mantles, and seated on seats forming a semicircle, with Duncan in ducal robes seated on a throne, and presiding with the gravest demeanor. The nine small pigs were supposed to represent various members of the critic tribe, while Duncan, who was in spectacles, personated Doctor Easley. And so cleverly did the showman understand the instincts of critics, as well as the beauties of his art, that he produced the scene with the merits of a poem called Hiawatha under consideration. Each pig waited the signal of approval or disapproval from Duncan, and according to his verdict, either fell upon and grievously soiled the poem, or grunted in one string of praise as they danced round it. And the audience understanding the logic of this, the performance proved highly entertaining. Indeed, renowned tragedians, very popular low comedians, leading business ladies, whose fame had been made for twenty years, and singing ladies who hailed from no less a place than the Covent Garden Opera, London, were driven by the pig mania into Poverty Lodge, from whence they sneeringly declared that no better proof of the low standard of public taste could be afforded.
And now, while pondering over the letter received from his wife, Polly, and feeling as if he could kiss her a thousand times, and entreat her to bear with him, since this time he was sure of success, and would return to her so much exalted that the whole village would turn out to do him homage, Barnum entered, and without further ceremony declared himself so enamored of the pig, whose success with the public was unprecedented, that he cheerfully paid down the amount of the closing engagement, and produced a paper which proved to be a re?ngagement at an advance of terms, that so completely satisfied the general, that he signed it without further hesitation. The showman being a advocate of temperance, declined General Potter's invitation to join him over a punch; and being a man of business, took his departure as soon as he had perfected the re?ngagement, promising to keep the pig's birthplace and antecedents a profound secret. And when he was gone, the general took fifty dollars of the money paid him, and sate down to write the following letter in reply to that received from his wife Polly: "St. Nicholas Hotel, New York, June -, 185-. "MY DEAR WIFE POLLY:
"Your letter is just received, and grieves me enough, God knows. You must know, dear Polly, that riches are not got in a day, nor is fame gained in a week, though a man may be popular and not have money enough to get a shilling dinner. And truly, since I arrived here, so much honor has been showered upon me that my shoulders are scarce broad enough to carry it all. As for those who make up the government of this great city, I have come to think they are not to be trusted; for if my good nature would recompense them for the respect they have shown me, my common sense is not to be shut up with gilded doors when I see men much given to strong drink and breaking one another's heads, which it seems to me is the fashion with these high office gentlemen. I now send you fifty dollars, which will comfort you for a time; remember, I will send you some more when less engaged with matters concerning the public. Give each a little, just to keep matters quiet; but be careful not to let one of them know how much you have in the purse, or they'll all rush upon you and strip you to the last dollar. I have success at my finger's ends, and am sure of a mission, as you will see by the newspapers, which have said no end of good things of me. I have met with one or two slight misfortunes, but as they are such as all great politi............