Upon the day appointed, pursuant to the Chancery Decision, the Com?missioners of both Provinces, with Remembrancers and Correspondents, attended by a Thronglet of Children out of School, Sailors, Irishmen, and other Citizens exempt1 from or disobedient to the humorless rule of Clock-Time here, all go trooping down to Cedar2 Street and the House in Question, to establish its north Wall officially as the southernmost Point of Philadelphia. Fifteen Miles South of this, to the width of a Red Pubick Hair or R.P.H., will the West Line run.
The neighbors gather and mutter. "Well ye would think they'd wait a bit." "Eighty years, that isn't enough?" "Way this Town's growing, that South Point'll be across the street and down the Block before the Week's out." "Aye, moving even as we speak, hard to detain as a greas'd Pig." The Sector3 is borne in a padded Waggon4, like some mechanickal Oda?lisque. Children jump, flapping their Arms in unconscious memory of when they had wings, to see inside. "Why not use the south Wall?" inquire several of them, far too 'pert for their sizes and ages. "The south Wall lies within private property," replies the Mayor's Assistant, "- - so, as the southernmost Publick Surface, the Parties have agreed upon this north Wall here, facing the Street."
Mr. Benjamin Loxley and his Crew have been busily erecting5 an Observatory6 in a vacant Piece, nearby, mid7 the mix'd rhythms of Ham?mers, each Framer at his own slightly different Tempo8, and blurted9 phrases of songs. "Done many of these, Ben?”
"First one,— but don't tell anybody. Pretty straightforward10, regular Joists and Scantlings, nothing too exotick, beyond this Cone11 Roof, trying to accommodate the tall one, spacing the Collar-beams so he won't thump12 his Head when he stands up,— tho' they'll be spending most of their time either sitting, or 'pon their Backs,—
"Hmm."
"Oh now, Clovis, your Bride is safe,— 'tis the only way for them to look straight up at the Stars that pass high overhead, these being the Best for the Latitude13, as they say."
"Aye? and that great Telescope Tube thing ever pointing straight up? Heh, heh. Why's it got to be that big?"
"Don't break your rhythm, Hobab, I was quite enjoying it. The Gents wish to measure this quite closely,— find and keep the Latitude of their Line, to fractions of a second of Arc,— the Tube being the Radius14 of the Limb, see, a longer Tube will swing you a bigger Arc, longer Limb, longer Divisions, more room between the Markings, easier reading, nicer reading."
Mr. Chew appears to be making a Speech. "Shall we stop hammering till he's done?" Hobab inquires.
"Other Questions arise," Mr. Loxley gazing into the Distance. "Your notion of Futurity. Shall we continue to need Contracts with these peo?ple? How soon do you expect our Savior's Return may render them void? Considerations like that."
"I say whenever you can, give 'm all a Twenty-one-Hammer Salute," growls15 Clovis.
"I say take their Money, we don't have to love 'm," says Hobab.
"Or even marry 'm," adds young Elijah, the Swamper.
"Here are the Astronomers," Mr. Loxley notes, "perhaps you'd like to share some of your Analysis with them,— God grant ye clear Skies, Gentlemen," shouting over the newly percussive16 Activity of his Crew.
Dixon, removing his hat, tries out the Door-way, goes in, and lies supine upon the fresh-sawn Planking. Looking up, he sees Clovis, spread still as a Spider among the radial Rafters, watching him.
"Ask you something, Sir?...What thought have you given to getting that great Tube in the Door?”
"Oh, Mr. Bird calculated the whole thing, years ago, over in England.
All on Paper."
"Before there was ever a Scantling cut?"
"Before there was ever a Screw cut for the Instrument."
"I'll study on it. Thank ye, Sir." He tips a nonexistent Hat and
descends17.
Mason looks in. "Will we get it in the Door, Dixon?"
Dixon stands up, carefully. "This is the very same Whimwham we had
at the Cape18...?"
"No Trouble, Gents, we'll make ye a Door it shall go in," promises the
cheery Hobab.
"And out, too!" adds Elijah, from beneath a Load of Weatherboarding.
Dixon, as a Needle man anxious to obtain the latest Magnetick Intelli?gence of the Region that awaits them, Rumors19 reaching him of a Coffee-House frequented by those with an interest in the Magnetick, however it be manifested, shows up one night at The Flower-de-Luce, in Locust-Street. There, over the Evening, he will find, among the Clientele, Ger?man Enthusiasts20, Quack21 Physicians, Land-Surveyors, Iron-Prospectors, and Watch-Thieves who know how to draw a Half-Hunter from one Pocket into another with the swiftness of a Lodestone clapping a Needle to its Influence. Strangers greet him as they might a Friend of ancient standing22, whilst others, obviously seeking to shun23 his Company, glare whenever the Fumes24 of Tobacco allow them mutual25 Visibility. He has no idea what any of it is about. Gently tacking26 among the crowd, he arrives at the Bar. "Evening, Sir, what'll it be?"
"Half and Half please, Mount Kenya Double-A, with Java High?land,— perhaps a slug o' boil'd Milk as well...?"
"Planning on some elevated Discourse27 tonight?" jests the Coffee-Draper, swiftly and with little misdirection assembling Dixon's order. His Wig28 shines with a Nimbus in the strange secondary light from the Mirror behind him.
"This may seem an odd question, Sir,— but...have I been in here before?”
"Goodness no, yet how many times a day do I get ask'd that very thing.
Diff'rent Visitors with diff'rent Expectations. You strike me as the
English Tavern29 sort, and so you'll be noticing there's less Reserve 'round
here than you may be us'd to,— tho' any who seek a Quarrel may read?
ily find it, yea unto Dirks and Pistols, if that truly be your Preference
Howbeit,— make yourself at home, and good Luck in America."
Dixon beamingly adverts30 to the early Crowd, here, immediately notic?ing Dr. Franklin's friend Dolly, tho' she's certainly not as eye-catchingly rigg'd out tonight as he's seen her before,— nor can he immediately 'spy any of her Companions. Soberly consulting a large Map upon a Mahogany Desk-top, she holds a pair of Silver Dividers, multiply-jointed, tending to White Gold in the Candle-light,— and refers repeatedly to a Book of Numerickal Tables, now and then gracefully31 walking the Instrument up, down, and 'cross its paper Stage. When she looks up at last, he guesses from her eyes that she knows he's been there, all the time. "Why Mr. Dixon. Well met." Holding out her hand, and before Dixon can begin to incline to kiss it, shaking his, as men do. "These Data arriv'd but this Instant, by the German Packet,— the latest Declination Figures. Our easterly movement, in Pennsylvania, as it's been doing in latter Years, decelerates yet,— here, 'tis four point five minutes east," as Dixon atten?tively gazes over her shoulder, "when in the year 'sixty, 'twas four point six. If you head South, 'twill be three point nine at Baltimore."
"Were these measur'd Heights," he murmurs32, "a very Precipice33."
"What could be causing it, do you imagine?"
"Something underground, moving Westward34...?"
"Hush35." Her Eyes rapidly sweep the Vicinity. "No one ever speaks of that aloud here,— what sort of incautious Lad are you, exactly?"
"Why, the usual sort, I guess."
"Well." She pulls him into an alcove36. "Rather took you for an All-Nations Lad, myself."
"Been there." The serving-girls at The All-Nations Coffee-House are costumed in whimsical versions of the native dress of each of the coffee-producing countries,— an Arabian girl, a Mexican girl, a Javanese girl, and according to Dolly, a Sumatran girl as well,— a constantly shifting Pageant37 of allegorical Coffees of the World, to some ways of thinking, in
fact, quite educational, tho' attracting a core Clientele louder, beefier, and altogether less earnest than Dixon by now expects to find in Philadelphia.
"Mm-Hmm...? Sumatran, tha say...?"
"You seem about to swoon, Sir."
He takes a delighted breath. "Ah don't know how much of my story tha may already have heard," bringing his Chair closer, "- - or, to be fair to Mason, our story."
She shifts her own Chair away. "You and Mr. Mason are.. .quite close, I collect."
"Huz? We get along. This is our second Job together...? The Trick is all in stayin' out of each other's way, really."
"There are Arrangements in the World," she explains, "too sadly familiar to Women, wherein, as we say among us, with the one, you get the other as well,—
"Lass, Lass...? Eeh, what a Suggestion. We'd make thah' one only to
our Commissioners39, I vouch Unless, that is, tha're indicating some
interest in Mason?"
"Or asking 'pon Molly's behalf," her Eye-Lashes indulging in an extra Bat. "This gets very complicated, doesn't it?"
"Mason does need to be out more, for fair. Ah'm but thinkin' o' meself, here...? Ever been coop'd up with a Melancholick, for days on end?"
Dolly shrugs40. "Oh, aye, Molly Sour-Apple. She's lucky I don't get like that. Two of us? Forget it."
"I find it hard work to be cheery all the time," says Dixon, "— as cheery as it seems I must."
"Really,— tell me all. The Way your Face begins to ache."
" 'Here's the Optimist,' wagging their Thumbs. Mr. Franklin must get thah' all the time...?"
"Mr. Franklin does not confide41 in me, nor would I encourage him to. He is too charming, too mysterious, entirely42 the wrong sort for a great Philosopher."
Dixon touches the end of his Nose. "Ow!" shaking his finger back and forth43. "Needs some filing down. Do excuse me."
"My Tale is simple. I held my first Mariner's Compass when I was nine, an age when Girls develop unforeseen yet passionate44 Interests. I
believ'd there was a Ghost in the Room. I walk'd with it, then, ev'ry-where. The first thing I understood was that it did not always point North...and it was the Dips and Deflexions I grew most curious about."
"In my Circumferentor Box, I learn'd to read what Shapes lay beneath the Earth, all in the Needle's Dance...? Upon the Fell, as if there were not enough already out there to bring me anxiety, I discover'd my Instru?ment acting38 as a Cryptoscope, into Powers hidden and waiting the Nee?dles of Intruders, set up as a picket45 to warn Something within of any unannounc'd wishes to enter. No Creatures of the Fell I'd ever heard of enjoy'd that much Protection,— being shabby, solitary46, notable more for the irrational47 fierceness of their Desires, than for any elegance48 or Justice in the enactment49 of them."
"You have impress'd them in Maryland," she informs him. "Cecilius Calvert, or, as he is styl'd by some, for his unreflective effusions, 'The Silliest' Calvert,— tho' not by me, for I consider him subtle,— believes you a Wizard, a Dowser of Iron."
"Close attention to the Instrument, a lot of Back-sighting, repetition, and frustration,— why disenchant them? If it's Weird50 Geordie Powers they wish, why W.G.P.'s they shall have, and plenty of them too...? Mr. Calvert offer'd me Port, in a Silver Cup...? Seem'd quite merry...?"
"In most places it is term'd, 'Giggling51.' They are Geese, down there. They imagine, that you and your Instrument will make of them Nabobs, like Lord Lepton, to whose ill-reputed Plantation52 you must be drawn53, upon your way West, resistlessly as the Needle. Then, Sailor among the Iron Isles,— Circumferentor Swab,— Beware.”
One morning in late December, they wake to a smell of Sea-Weed and Brine. The Wind is sensibly colder,— before it swiftly run gray small clouds, more and less dark. Light, when it arrives, comes ever cross?wise. "Something wrong with the Town this morning," Dixon mutters.
"And what's that G-dawful twittering sound?"
"Styl'd'Birds,'I'm told...?"
"How's it possible we've never heard any here before,— Dixon! Hold,— the Hammers! the Rip-Saws! the Meat-Waggons! the Screaming uninterrupted! what's happen'd?"
"Eeh.. .it's been Christmas, hasn't it...?"
"One of us," Mason declares, "must put on his Shoes and Coat, and go down into that Street, there, and discover the reason for this unsettling Silence."
"Eeh, so let's have Junior's Arse in the Roasting-Pan once again, shall we,— thah's bonny!" protests Dixon.
"Be practical,— if they kill you, and I remain safe, the loss to British Astronomy, if any, will go largely unnotic'd."
"Well,— put thah' way, of course,— where's m' Hat, then...?, not that one, thankee, Sir...?, no, I'll need the Broad-Brim today,—
"You're going out as a Quaker?"
"Eeh! He has Costume-Advice for me now as well! He, who all too plainly exhibits his Need, when in Publick, ever to deflect54 Attention,— - Inexpensive Salvo," Mason notes.
"Geordie Intuition, then," Dixon tapping his Head with the side of his Thumb, before pulling on a classick Philadelphia Quaker's Hat, dif?fering in little but Size from thousands of others here in Town. "Trust mine. In London they may sift55 you by your Shoes,— but in this Place, 'tis Hat and Wig by which a man, aye and Woman too, may infallibly be known."
"They've been looking at, at my Wig, all this time? My Hat? Dixon,— you're sure?"
"Aye, and forming Opinions bas'd upon what they saw, as well...?"
"...Oh. Ehm, what, f'r example?"
"Eeh, what matter,— 'tis much too late...? they've all made up their minds about thee by now."
"Then I'll wear something else."
"So then they'll be on about thah',— 'Aye there he is, old Look Before Ye Leap,— he, bold enough to clap on anything as stylish56 as the Adonis? eeh no, 'tis but the tried and true for old Heavens What'll They Think o' Me.' "
"What,— my Wig, it isn't...adventurous57 enough, you're saying."
"Attend me, man, Molly and Dolly, remember them? discuss little but thy Appearance, and ways to modify it, at least in my hearing,— ruining, alas58, and more than once, the promise of a Sparkish Evening,— thy Wig in particular provoking one of the greatest,— forgive me,— of all my Failures of Attention."
"It's a Ramillies, of the middling sort.. .bought some years since of a fugitive59 Irish Wig-Maker at Bermondsey...styl'd himself 'Mister Larry, Whilst Ye Tarry'...nothing remarkable60 at all about it. You say you've been spending time with— "
"Time and Coin and little else, aye but thah's another Tale, 's it not...? withal, my Reconnaissance mission awaits, and Damme, I'm Off!" And he is, Mason following so closely as nearly to have his Nose caught in the Jamb.
"Wait,— I was going out wi' ye!" Hopping61 down the stairs into his Shoes, attempting to button his Jacket, "How are you fitting that in, among all the Obs and Social Visits?"
"Fitting whah' in...?" Dixon staring in comick Dismay down toward his Penis, as he has seen Market-place Drolls do. The Snow this morn-
ing is ankle-deep, crepitous, with more on the way. The Street before the Inn seems deserted62. "Odd for Wednesday Market...?"
' Tis another damn'd Preacher," Mason opines, "who's magnetiz'd the whole Population away to a Tent someplace. You know how they are, here. Flock to anything won't they, worldly Philadelphians."
The nearest Coffee-House, The Restless Bee, lies but a block and a half distant. There, if anyplace, should be News, up-to-the-Minute. On the way over, they begin at last to hear Ships' Bells and Boatswains' Pipes from the Docks, Children out coasting, dogs barking, a Teamster with a laden63 Waggon in a Snow-Drift, and presently indeed the crescent Drone and Susurrus of Assembly. Directly in front of The Restless Bee, they come upon a Circle of Citizens, observing, and in some cases wager64?ing upon, a furious Struggle between two Men, one to appearance a City Quaker, whose Hat has been knock'd off,— the other, an apparent Pres?byterian from the Back-Country, dress'd in Animal Hides from Head to Foot,— each having already taken a number of solid Blows from the other, neither showing any lapse65 of Pugnacity66.
"Excuse me, Sir," Mason inquires of a Gentleman in full Wig, Velvet67 Coat, and Breeches, and carrying a Lawyer's Bag, "— what is the Matter here?"
The Attorney, after staring at them for a bit, introduces himself as Mr. Chantry. "Ye're from well out of Town if ye've not heard the news."
"Eeh," Dixon's Eyes seeking the Zenith.
"At Lancaster,— day before yesterday,— the Indians that were taking refuge in the Gaol68 there, were massacr'd ev'ry one, by local Irregulars,— the same Band that slew69 the other Indians at Conestoga, but week before last."
"So finishing what they'd begun," contributes an Apron'd Mechanick nearby. "Now the entire Tribe is gone, the lot."
"Were there no Soldiers to prevent it?" Dixon asks.
"Colonel Robertson and his Regiment70 of Highlanders refus'd to stir, toasting their Noses whilst that brave Paxton Vermin murder'd old peo?ple, small children, and defenseless Drunkards."
"Not being men enough to face Warriors71, in a real Fight."
"Mind yeer Speech, Friend, or 'tis your Hat'll be on the Ground as well, and your Head in it.”
"And here's to Matt Smith, and Revd. Stewart!"
"Here's Death to 'em, the cowardly Dogs!" Further Insults, then Snow-Balls, Fists, and Brickbats, begin to fly.
"This way, Gentlemen," Mr. Chantry helpfully steering72 the Surveyors to the Alley73 and thro' a back Entry into the Coffee-House, where they find Tumult74 easily out-roaring what prevails outside. With its own fulig?inous Weather, at once public and private, created of smoke billowing from Pipes, Hearths75, and Stoves, the Room would provide an extraordi?nary sight, were any able to see, in this Combination, peculiar76 and pre?cise, of unceasing Talk and low Visibility, that makes Riot's indoor Sister,
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exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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erecting
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| v.使直立，竖起( erect的现在分词 )；建立 | |
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observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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percussive
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| adj.敲击的 | |
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descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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quack
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| n.庸医；江湖医生；冒充内行的人；骗子 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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adverts
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| advertisements 广告，做广告 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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commissioners
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| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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irrational
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| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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enactment
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| n.演出，担任…角色；制订，通过 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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51
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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deflect
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| v.(使)偏斜，(使)偏离，(使)转向 | |
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sift
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| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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pugnacity
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| n.好斗，好战 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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hearths
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| 壁炉前的地板，炉床，壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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