F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams
Chapter 26
it was politely called in the little State-militant, by a species of
unreputationized Jew and Yankee; but this you should know-if you do
not already, gentle reader-that it is only because such employments
are regarded by the lofty-minded chivalry as of too vulgar a nature
to claim a place in their attention.
The clock of old Saint Michels, a clock so tenacious of its dignity
as to go only when it pleases, and so aristocratic in its habits as
not to go at all in rainy weather;--a clock held in great esteem by
the "very first families," has just struck eleven. The young,
pale-faced missionary inquiringly hesitates before a small,
two-story building of wood, located on the upper side of Church
street, and so crabbed in appearance that you might, without
endangering your reputation, have sworn it had incorporated in its
framework a portion of that chronic disease for which the State has
gained for itself an unenviable reputation. Jutting out of the
black, moss-vegetating roof, is an old-maidish looking window, with
a dowdy white curtain spitefully tucked up at the side. The
mischievous young negroes have pecked half the bricks out of the
foundation, and with them made curious grottoes on the pavement.
Disordered and unpainted clapboards spread over the dingy front,
which is set off with two upper and two lower windows, all blockaded
with infirm, green shutters. Then there is a snuffy door, high and
narrow (like the State's notions), and reached by six venerable
steps and a stoop, carefully guarded with a pine hand-rail,
fashionably painted in blue, and looking as dainty as the State's
white glove. This, reader, is the abode of the testy but extremely
dignified Mrs. Swiggs. If you would know how much dignity can be
crowded into the smallest space, you have only to look in here and
be told (she closely patterns after the State in all things!) that
fifty-five summers of her crispy life have been spent here, reading
Milton's Paradise Lost and contemplating the greatness of her
departed family.