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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What o'clock is it? — Old Saying.  EVERYBODY knows, in a
general way, that the finest place
in the
world
is — or, alas, was — the Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss.
Yet, as
it lies some distance from any of the main roads, being in a somewhat
out-of-the-way
situation, there are, perhaps, very few of my readers who have ever
paid
it a visit. For the benefit of those who have not, therefore,
it will
be
only proper that I should enter into some account of it. And this is,
indeed,
the more necessary, as with the hope of enlisting public sympathy in
behalf
of the inhabitants, I design here to give a history of the calamitous
events
which have so lately occurred within its limits. No one who knows me
will
doubt that the duty thus self-imposed will be executed to the best of
my
ability, with all that rigid impartiality, all that cautious
examination
into facts, and diligent collation of authorities, which should ever
distinguish
him who aspires to the title of historian. By the united aid of medals, manuscripts, and
inscriptions, I am
enabled
to say, positively, that the borough of Vondervotteimittiss has
existed,
from its origin, in precisely the same condition which it at present
preserves.
Of the date of this origin, however, I grieve that I can only speak
with
that species of indefinite definiteness which mathematicians are, at
times,
forced to put up with in certain algebraic formulæ. The date, I
may
thus
say, in regard to the remoteness of its antiquity, cannot be less than
any assignable quantity whatsoever. [page 384:]Touching the derivation of the name
Vondervotteimittiss,
I confess
myself,
with sorrow, equally at fault. Among a multitude of opinions upon this
delicate point — some acute, some learned, some sufficiently the
reverse
— I am able to select nothing which ought to be considered
satisfactory.
Perhaps the idea of Grogswigg — nearly coincident with that of
Kroutaplenttey — is to be cautiously preferred: — It runs: — "Vondervotteimittis
—
Vonder, lege Donder — Votteimittis, quasi und Bleitziz — Bleitziz
obsol: pro Blitzen." This derivative, to say the truth, is still
countenanced
by some traces of the electric fluid evident on the summit of the
steeple
of the House of the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to commit
myself
on a theme of such importance, and must refer the reader desirous of
information,
to the "Oratiunculæ de Rebus Præter-Veteris," of
Dundergutz. See,
also,
Blunderbuzzard "De Derivationibus," pp. 27 to 5010, Folio,
Gothic
edit.,
Red and Black character, Catch-word and No Cypher; wherein consult,
also,
marginal notes in the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with the
Sub-Commentaries
of Gruntundguzzell. Notwithstanding the obscurity which thus envelopes
[[envelops]] the
date of the
foundation
of Vondervotteimittis, and the derivation of its name, there can be no
doubt, as I said before, that it has always existed as we find it at
this
epoch. The oldest man in the borough can remember not the slightest
difference
in the appearance of any portion of it; and, indeed, the very
suggestion
of such a possibility is considered an insult. The site of the village
is in a perfectly circular valley, about a quarter of a mile in
circumference,
and entirely surrounded by gentle hills, over whose summit the people
have
never yet ventured to pass. For this they assign the very good reason
that
they do not believe there is anything at all on the other side. Round the skirts of the valley, (which is quite
level,
and paved
throughout
with flat tiles,) extends a continuous row of sixty little houses.
These,
having their backs on the hills, must look, of course, to the centre of
the plain, which is just sixty yards from the front door of each
dwelling.
Every house has a small garden before it, with a circular path, a
sun-dial,
and twenty-four cabbages. The buildings themselves are so precisely
alike,
that one can in no manner be distinguished from the other. Owing to [page
385:] the
vast antiquity, the style of architecture is somewhat odd, but it is
not
for that reason the less strikingly picturesque. They are fashioned of
hard-burned little bricks, red, with black ends, so that the walls look
like a chess-board upon a great scale. The gables are turned to the
front,
and there are cornices, as big as all the rest of the house, over the
eaves
and over the main doors. The windows are narrow and deep, with very
tiny
panes and a great deal of sash. On the roof is a vast quantity of tiles
with long curly ears. The woodwork, throughout, is of a dark hue, and
there
is much carving about it, with but a trifling variety of pattern; for,
time
out of mind, the carvers of Vondervotteimittiss have never been able to
carve more than two objects — a time-piece and a cabbage. But these
they
do exceedingly well, and intersperse them, with singular ingenuity,
wherever
they find room for the chisel. The dwellings are as much alike inside as out, and
the
furniture is
all upon one plan. The floors are of square tiles, the chairs and
tables
of black-looking wood with thin crooked legs and puppy feet. The
mantel-pieces
are wide and high, and have not only time-pieces and cabbages
sculptured
over the front, but a real time-piece, which makes a prodigious
ticking,
on the top in the middle, with a flower-pot containing a cabbage
standing
on each extremity by way of outrider. Between each cabbage and the
time-piece,
again, is a little China man having a large stomach with a great round
hole in it, through which is seen the dial-plate of a watch. The fire-places are large and deep, with fierce
crooked-looking
fire-dogs.
There is constantly a rousing fire, and a huge pot over it, full of
sauer-kraut
and pork, to which the good woman of the house is always busy in
attending.
She is a little fat old lady, with blue eyes and a red face, and wears
a huge cap like a sugar-loaf, ornamented with purple and yellow
ribbons.
Her dress is of orange-colored linsey-woolsey, made very full behind
and
very short in the waist — and indeed very short in other respects, not
reaching below the middle of her leg. This is somewhat thick, and so
are
her ankles, but she has a fine pair of green stockings to cover them.
Her
shoes — of pink leather — are fastened each with a bunch of yellow
ribbons
puckered up in the shape of a [page 386:] cabbage. In
her left hand she has a
little
heavy Dutch watch; in her right she wields a ladle for the sauer-kraut
and
pork. By her side there stands a fat tabby cat, with a gilt
toy repeater
tied to its tail, which "the boys" have there fastened by way of a
quiz. The boys themselves are, all three of them, in the
garden attending
the pig. They are each two feet in height. They have three-cornered
cocked
hats, purple waistcoats reaching down to their thighs, buckskin
knee-breeches,
red woollen stockings, heavy shoes with big silver buckles, and long
surtout coats
with large buttons of mother-of-pearl. Each, too, has a pipe in his
mouth,
and a little dumpy watch in his right hand. He takes a puff and a look,
and then a look and a puff. The pig — which is corpulent and lazy — is
occupied now in picking up the stray leaves that fall from the
cabbages,
and now in giving a kick behind at the gilt repeater, which the urchins
have also tied to his tail, in order to make him look as
handsome as the
cat. Right at the front door, in a high-backed
leather-bottomed armed
chair,
with crooked legs and puppy feet like the tables, is seated the old man
of the house himself. He is an exceedingly puffy little old gentleman,
with big circular eyes and a huge double chin. His dress resembles that
of the boys — and I need say nothing farther about it. All the
difference
is, that his pipe is somewhat bigger than theirs, and he can make a
greater
smoke. Like them, he has a watch, but he carries his watch in his
pocket.
To say the truth, he has something of more importance than a watch to
attend
to — and what that is, I shall presently explain. He sits with his
right
leg upon his left knee, wears a grave countenance, and always keeps one
of his eyes, at least, resolutely bent upon a certain remarkable object
in the centre of the plain. This object is situated in the steeple of the House
of
the Town-Council.
The Town-Council are all very little, round, oily, intelligent men,
with
big saucer eyes and fat double chins, and have their coats much longer
and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary inhabitants of
Vondervotteimittiss.
Since my sojourn in the borough, they have had several special
meetings,
and have adopted these three important resolutions: — [page 387:]"That it is wrong to alter the good old course of
things:" "That there is nothing tolerable out of
Vondervotteimittiss:" and — "That we will stick by our clocks and our cabbages." Above the session-room of the Council is the
steeple,
and in the
steeple
is the belfry, where exists, and has existed time out of mind, the
pride
and wonder of the village — the great clock of the borough of
Vondervotteimittiss.
And this is the object to which the eyes of the old gentlemen are
turned
who sit in the leather-bottomed arm[[-]]chairs. The great clock has seven faces — one in each of the
seven sides of
the steeples [[steeple]] — so that it can be readily seen from all
quarters. Its
faces
are large and white, and its hands heavy and black. There is a
belfry-man
whose sole duty is to attend to it; but this duty is the most perfect
of
sinecures — for the clock of Vondervotteimittis was never yet known to
have anything the matter with it. Until lately, the bare supposition of
such a thing was considered heretical. From the remotest period of
antiquity
to which the archives have reference, the hours have been regularly
struck
by the big bell. And, indeed, the case was just the same with all the
other
clocks and watches in the borough. Never was such a place for keeping
the
true time. When the large clapper thought proper to say "Twelve
o'clock!"
all its obedient followers opened their throats simultaneously, and
responded
like a very echo. In short, the good burghers were fond of their
sauer-kraut,
but then they were proud of their clocks. All people who hold sinecure offices are held in
more or
less
respect,
and as the belfry-man of Vondervotteimittiss has the most perfect of
sinecures, he is the most perfectly respected of any man in the world.
He is the chief dignitary of the borough, and the very pigs look up to
him with a sentiment of reverence. His coat-tail is very far
longer —
his pipe, his shoe-buckles, his eyes, and his stomach, very
far
bigger — than those of any other old gentleman in the village; and as
to his
chin, it is not only double, but triple. I have thus painted the happy estate of
Vondervotteimittiss: alas,
that
so fair a picture should ever experience a reverse! There has been long a saying among the wisest
inhabitants, [page 388:] that "no
good can come from over the hills;" and it really seemed that the words
had in them something of the spirit of prophecy. It wanted five minutes
of noon, on the day before yesterday, when there appeared a very
odd-looking
object on the summit of the ridge to the eastward. Such an occurrence,
of course, attracted universal attention, and every little old
gentleman
who sat in a leather-bottomed arm-chair, turned one of his eyes with a
stare
of dismay upon the phenomenon, still keeping the other upon the clock
in
the steeple. By the time that it wanted only three minutes to
noon,
the droll
object
in question was perceived to be a very diminutive foreign-looking young
man. He descended the hills at a great rate, so that everybody had
soon
a good look at him. He was really the most finnicky [[finicky]] little
personage
that
had ever been seen in Vondervotteimittiss. His countenance was of a
dark
snuff-color, and he had a long hooked nose, pea eyes, a wide mouth, and
an excellent set of teeth, which latter he seemed anxious of
displaying,
as he was grinning from ear to ear. What with mustachios and whiskers,
there was none of the rest of his face to be seen. His head was
uncovered,
and his hair neatly done up in papillotes. His dress was a
tight-fitting
swallow-tailed black coat, (from one of whose pockets dangled a vast
length
of white handkerchief,) black kerseymere knee-breeches, black
stockings,
and stumpy-looking pumps, with huge bunches of black satin ribbon for
bows.
Under one arm he carried a huge chapeau-de-bras, and under the
other a
fiddle nearly five times as big as himself. In his left hand was a gold
snuff-box, from which, as he capered down the hill, cutting all manner
of fantastical steps, he took snuff incessantly with an air of the
greatest
possible self-satisfaction. God bless me! — here was a sight for the
honest
burghers of Vondervotteimittiss! To speak plainly, the fellow had, in spite of his
grinning, an
audacious
and sinister kind of face; and as he curvetted right into the village,
the odd stumpy appearance of his pumps excited no little suspicion; and
many a burgher who beheld him that day, would have given a trifle for a
peep beneath the white cambric handkerchief which hung so obtrusively
from
the pocket of his swallow-tailed coat. But what mainly occasioned a
righteous
indignation [page 389:] was, that the scoundrelly popinjay,
while he cut a fandango
here, and a whirligig there, did not seem to have the remotest idea in
the world of such a thing as keeping time in his steps. The good people of the borough had scarcely a
chance,
however, to
get
their eyes thoroughly open, when, just as it wanted half a minute of
noon,
the rascal bounced, as I say, right into the midst of them; gave a chassez
here, and a balancez there; and then, after a pirouette
and a pas-de-zephyr,
pigeon-winged himself right up into the belfry of the House of the
Town-Council, where the wonder-stricken belfry-man sat smoking in a
state of
dignity and dismay. But the little chap seized him at once by the nose;
gave it a swing and a pull; clapped the big chapeau-de-bras
upon his
head;
knocked it down over his eyes and mouth; and then, lifting up the big
fiddle,
beat him with it so long and so soundly, that what with the belfry-man
being so fat, and the fiddle being so hollow, you would have sworn that
there was a regiment of double-bass drummers all beating the devil's
tattoo
up in the belfry of the steeple of Vondervotteimittiss. There is no knowing to what desperate act of
vengeance
this
unprincipled
attack might have aroused the inhabitants, but for the important fact
that
it now wanted only half a second of noon. The bell was about to strike,
and it was a matter of absolute and pre-eminent necessity that every
body
should look well at his watch. It was evident, however, that just at
this
moment, the fellow in the steeple was doing something that he had no
business
to do with the clock. But as it now began to strike, nobody had any
time
to attend to his manœuvres, for they had all to count the strokes of
the
bell as it sounded. "One!" said the clock. "Von!" echoed every little old gentleman in every
leather-bottomed
arm-chair
in Vondervotteimittiss. "Von!" said his watch also; "von!" said the
watch
of his vrow, and "von!" said the watches of the boys, and the little
gilt
repeaters on the tails of the cat and pig. "Two!" continued the big bell; and "Doo!" repeated all the repeaters. "Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!"
said
the bell. [page 390:]"Dree! Vour! Fibe! Sax! Seben! Aight! Noin! Den!"
answered the
others. "Eleven!" said the big one. "Eleben!" assented the little fellows. "Twelve!" said the bell. "Dvelf!" they replied, perfectly satisfied, and
dropping
their
voices. "Und dvelf it iss!" said all the little old
gentlemen,
putting up
their
watches. But the big bell had not done with them yet. "Thirteen!" said he. "Der Teufel!" gasped the little old gentlemen,
turning
pale,
dropping
their pipes, and putting down all their right legs from over their left
knees. "Der Teufel!" groaned they, "Dirteen! Dirteen!! —
Mein
Gott, it is
Dirteen o'clock!!" Why attempt to describe the terrible scene which
ensued?
All
Vondervotteimittiss
flew at once into a lamentable state of uproar. "Vot is cum'd to mein pelly?" roared all the boys, —
"I've been
ongry
for dis hour!" "Vot is cum'd to mein kraut?" screamed all the
vrows,
"It has been
done
to rags for dis hour!" "Vot is cum'd to mein pipe?" swore all the little
old
gentlemen,
"Donder
and Blitzen! it has been smoked out for dis hour!" — and they filled
them
up again in a great rage, and, sinking back in their arm[[-]]chairs,
puffed
away so fast and so fiercely that the whole valley was immediately
filled
with impenetrable smoke. Meantime the cabbages all turned very red in the
face,
and it seemed
as if old Nick himself had taken possession of everything in the shape
of a time-piece. The clocks carved upon the furniture took to dancing
as
if bewitched, while those upon the mantel-pieces could scarcely contain
themselves for fury, and kept such a continual striking of thirteen,
and
such a frisking and wriggling of their pendulums as was really horrible
to see. — But, worse than all, neither the cats nor the pigs could put
up
any longer with the behavior of the little repeaters tied to their
tails,
and resented it by scampering all over the place, scratching and
poking,
and squeaking and screeching, and caterwauling and squalling, and [page
391:]
flying
into the faces, and running under the petticoats of the people, and
creating
altogether the most abominable din and confusion which it is possible
for
a reasonable person to conceive. And to make matters still more
distressing,
the rascally little scape-grace in the steeple was evidently exerting
himself
to the utmost. Every now and then one might catch a glimpse of the
scoundrel
through the smoke. There he sat in the belfry upon the belfry-man, who
was lying flat upon his back. In his teeth the villain held the
bell-rope,
which he kept jerking about with his head, raising such a clatter that
my ears ring again even to think of it. On his lap lay the big fiddle
at which he was scraping out of all time and tune, with both hands,
making
a great show, the nincompoop! of playing "Judy O'Flannagan and Paddy
O'Raferty." Affairs being thus miserably situated, I left the
place
in disgust,
and now appeal for aid to all lovers of correct time and fine kraut.
Let
us proceed in a body to the borough, and restore the ancient order of
things
in Vondervotteimittiss by ejecting that little fellow from the steeple.
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