- end_line
- 4955
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4897
- text
- rubs in the world; that he was of a solemn disposition; that he was
of the mind of Solomon; that he lived calmly, decorously, temperately;
and though a very poor man, was, nevertheless, a highly respectable
one. At times I imagined that he might even be an elder or deacon of
some small country church. I thought it would not be a bad plan to run
this excellent man for President of the United States. He would prove a
great reformer of abuses.
His name was Merrymusk. I had often thought how jolly a name for so
unjolly a wight. I inquired of people whether they knew Merrymusk.
But it was some time before I learned much about him. He was by birth
a Marylander, it appeared, who had long lived in the country round
about; a wandering man; until within some ten years ago, a thriftless
man, though perfectly innocent of crime; a man who would work hard a
month with surprising soberness, and then spend all his wages in one
riotous night. In youth he had been a sailor, and run away from his
ship at Batavia, where he caught the fever, and came nigh dying. But he
rallied, reshipped, landed home, found all his friends dead, and struck
for the Northern interior, where he had since tarried. Nine years back
he had married a wife, and now had four children. His wife was become
a perfect invalid; one child had the white-swelling and the rest were
rickety. He and his family lived in a shanty on a lonely barren patch
nigh the railroad track, where it passed close to the base of the
mountain. He had bought a fine cow to have plenty of wholesome milk for
his children; but the cow died during an accouchement, and he could not
afford to buy another. Still, his family never suffered for lack of
food. He worked hard and brought it to them.
Now, as I said before, having long previously sawed my wood, this
Merrymusk came for his pay.
"My friend," said I, "do you know of any gentleman hereabouts who owns
an extraordinary cock?"
The twinkle glittered quite plain in the wood-sawyer's eye.
"I know of no _gentleman_," he replied, "who has what might well be
called an extraordinary cock."
Oh, thought I, this Merrymusk is not the man to enlighten me. I am
afraid I shall never discover this extraordinary cock.
Not having the full change to pay Merrymusk, I gave him his due, as
nigh as I could make it, and told him that in a day or two I would take
a walk and visit his place, and hand to him the remainder. Accordingly
one fine morning I sallied forth upon the errand. I had much ado
finding the best road to the shanty. No one seemed to know where it was
exactly. It lay in a very lonely part of the country, a densely-wooded
mountain on one side (which I call October Mountain, on account of its
bannered aspect in that month), and a thicketed swamp on the other, the
railroad cutting the swamp. Straight as a die the railroad cut it; many
times a day tantalizing the wretched shanty with the sight of all the
beauty, rank, fashion, health, trunks, silver and gold, dry-goods and
groceries, brides and grooms, happy wives and husbands, flying by the
lonely door--no time to stop--flash! here they are--and there they go!
out of sight at both ends--as if that part of the world were only made
to fly over, and not to settle upon. And this was about all the shanty
saw of what people call life.
- title
- Chunk 4