FullReads

Several days afterwards I found myself in the vicinity of the State House; so, thinks I, I’ll just drop in, and go up to the top of the dome and get a view of the city and suburbs.

My chaperon was on hand, and he no sooner clapped eyes upon me, than he pitched into all manner of highfernooten flub-dubs, bowed and scraped, and regretted that the day was so misty and dull, as I would not be enabled to have half a chance to get a view.

“I wouldn’t try it to-day, sir,” said he.

“What’s the reason?” asked I.

“Oh,” replied he, “you’ll not see half the outline of the city and the villages around, and you’ll want to get them all down distinct.”

“Get them all down distinct?” quoth I.

“Yes, sir; and the day is so dull and cloudy that you’ll not see half the prominent buildings, never mind the whole of the former and not so easily seen houses. You intend taking a full view, don’t you, sir?”

“Why, yes, I would like to,” says I, partly lost to conceive what caused such a sudden and unaccountable ebullition of the man’s great interest in my getting “a first rate notice” of matters and things from the top of the capitol! But up I went, in spite of my attentive friend’s fears of my not getting quite so clear and distinct a view as he could wish. Having gratified myself with such a view as the weather and the height of the capitol afforded (and in clear weather you can get far the best survey of Boston and the environs from the top of the State House than from any other promontory about), I descended again. At the foot of the stairway my assiduous cicerone again beset me, introduced several other miscellaneous-looking chaps to me, and, in short, was making of me, why or wherefore I knew not, quite a lion!

“Well, sir,” said he, “what do you think of it, sir? Could you get the outline?”

“Not very well,” said I, “but the view is very fine.”

“O, yes, sir,” said he; “but as soon as you wish to begin, sir, let me know, and I’ll lock the upper doors when you go up, and you’ll not be disturbed, sir.”

“Lock the doors?” said I, in some amazement.

“Yes, sir,” quoth he, “but it would be best to come as early in the morning as possible, or, if convenient, before the visitors begin to come up; they’d disturb you, you know!”

“Disturb me! Why, I don’t know how they would do that?”

“Why, sir, when Mr. Smith–you know Mr. Smith, sir, I suppose?”

“Why, yes; the name strikes me as somewhat familiar; do you refer to John Smith ?” I observed, beginning to participate in the joke, which began to develop itself pretty distinctly.

“Yes, sir; I believe his name is John–John R. Smith; he’s a splendid artist, sir; his sketch or panorama is a beauty! Sir! did you ever see his panorama?”

“I think I did, in New York,” I replied.

By this time some dozen or two visitors had congregated around us, and I was the centre of a considerable circle, and from the whispers, and pointing of fingers, I felt duly sensible, that, great or small, I was a LION! Under what auspices, I was in too dense a fog to make out; to me it was an unaccountable mist’ry.

“I’ll tell you what I can do, sir,” continued my toady; “I can have a small platform erected, outside of the cupola, for you, to place your designs or sketches on, and you’ll not be so liable to be disturbed. Mr. Smith, he had a platform made, sir.”

I beckoned the man to step aside, in the Senate Chamber.

“Now, sir,” said I, “you will please inform me, who the devil do you take me for?”

“Oh, I knew who you were, the moment you came in, sir,” said he, with a very knowing leer out of his half-squinting eyes.

“Did you? Well then I must certainly give you credit for devilish keen perception; but, if it’s a fair question,” I continued, “what do you mean by fixing a platform for my designs ? You don’t think I’m going to fly, jump or deliver orations from the cupola, do you?”

“No, I don’t; but you’re to draw a grand panorama of Boston, ain’t you?”

“ME?”

“Yes, you; ain’t your name Mr. Banvard?”

“Oh, yes, yes–I understand–you’ve found me out, but keep dark–mum’s the word–you understand?” said I, winkingly.

“Yes, sir; I’ll fix it all right; you’ll want the platform outside, I guess.”

“Yes; out with it, and keep dark until I come! “

I skeeted down them steps into the Common to let off my corked up risibilities.–Whether the man actually did prepare a platform for my designs, or whether Banvard ever went to take his designs there, I am unable to say, as I went South a few days afterward, and did not return for some time.