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diff --git a/old/55594-0.txt b/old/55594-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7ff7b05..0000000 --- a/old/55594-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10900 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's My Opinions and Betsey Bobbet's, by Marietta Holley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: My Opinions and Betsey Bobbet's - Designed as a Beacon of Light to Guide Women to Life Liberty - and the Pursuit of Happiness, But Which May Be Read by - Members of the Sterner Sect without Injury to Themselves - or the Book - -Author: Marietta Holley - -Illustrator: J. C. Beard - -Release Date: September 21, 2017 [EBook #55594] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY OPINIONS AND BETSEY BOBBET'S *** - - - - -Produced by Emmy, MFR and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - -Transcriber’s Note: Obvious printer and punctuation errors have been -corrected, but dialect, unconventional and inconsistent spellings -(haint/hain’t, their/thier, etc) are left untouched. - - - - -[Illustration: MR. BOBBET TELLS NEWS.] - - - - - MY OPINIONS - AND - BETSEY BOBBET’S. - - DESIGNED AS - A BEACON LIGHT, - TO GUIDE WOMEN TO LIFE, LIBERTY AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS, - BUT WHICH MAY BE READ BY - MEMBERS OF THE STERNER SECT, - WITHOUT INJURY TO THEMSELVES - OR THE BOOK. - - BY - JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE. - - “_Who will read the Book, Samantha, when it is rote?_” - - PUBLISHED BY SUBSCRIPTION ONLY, - HARTFORD, CONN.: - AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. - 1884. - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by the - AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY, - In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. - - - - - This Book is Dedicated - - To my own Lawful Pardner, - - JOSIAH. - - Whom (although I have been his Consort - for a little upwards of 14 years) - I still Love with a - - CAST-IRON DEVOTEDNESS. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Which is to be read, if it haint askin’ too much of the kind hearted -reader. - -In the first days of our married life, I strained nearly every nerve -to help my companion Josiah along and take care of his children by his -former consort, the subject of black African slavery also wearin’ on me, -and a mortgage of 200 and 50 dollars on the farm. But as we prospered and -the mortgage was cleared, and the children were off to school, the black -African also bein’ liberated about the same time of the mortgage, then -my mind bein’ free from these cares--the great subject of Wimmen’s Rites -kept a goarin’ me, and a voice kept a sayin’ inside of me, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, write a book givin’ your views on the great subject -of Wimmen’s Rites.” But I hung back in spirit from the idea and says I, -to myself, “I never went to school much and don’t know nothin’ about -grammer, and I never could spell worth a cent.” - -But still that deep voice kept a ’swaiden me--“Josiah Allen’s wife, write -a book.” - -Says I, “I can’t write a book, I don’t know no underground dungeons, I -haint acquainted with no haunted houses, I never see a hero suspended -over a abyss by his gallusses, I never beheld a heroine swoon away, I -never see a Injun tommy hawked, nor a ghost; I never had any of these -advantages; I can’t write a book.” - -But still it kept a sayin’ inside of my mind, “Josiah Allen’s wife write -a book about your life, as it passes in front of you and Josiah, daily, -and your views on Wimmen’s Rites. The great publick wheel is a rollin’ -on slowly, drawin’ the Femail Race into liberty; Josiah Allen’s wife, put -your shoulder blades to the wheel.” - -And so that almost hauntin’ voice inside of me kept a ’swaidin me, and -finally I spoke out in a loud clear voice and answered it-- - -“I _will_ put my shoulder blades to the wheel.” - -I well remember the time I said it, for it skairt Josiah almost to death. -It was night and we was both settin’ by the fire relapsted into silence -and he--not knowin’ the conversation goin’ on inside of my mind, thought -I was crazy, and jumped up as if he was shot, and says he, in tremblin’ -tones, - -“What is the matter Samantha?” - -Says I, “Josiah I am goin’ to write a book.” - -This skairt him worse than ever--I could see, by his ghastly -countenance--and he started off on the run for the camfire bottle. - -Says I, in firm but gentle axcents, “camfire can’t stop me Josiah, the -book will be wrote.” - -He see by my pale but calm countenance, that I was not delirious any, and -(by experience) he knows that when my mind is made up, I have got a firm -and almost cast iron resolution. He said no more, but he sot down and -sithed hevily; finally he spoke out in a despairin’ tone, he is pretty -close (but honest), - -“Who will read the book Samantha? Remember if you write it you have got -to stand the brunt of it yourself--I haint no money to hire folks with -to read it.” And again he sithed two or three times. And he hadn’t much -more than got through sithein’ when he asked me again in a tone of almost -agony-- - -“Who will read the book Samantha after you write it?” - -The same question was fillin’ me with agonizin’ apprehension, but I -concealed it and answered with almost marble calm, - -“I don’t know Josiah, but I am determined to put my shoulder blades to -the wheel and write it.” - -Josiah didn’t say no more then, but it wore on him--for that night in the -ded of night he spoke out in his sleep in a kind of a wild way, - -“Who will read the book?” - -I hunched him with my elbo’ to wake him up, and he muttered--“I won’t pay -out one cent of my money to hire any body to read it.” - -I pitied him, for I was afraid it would end in the Night Mair, and I -waked him up, and promised him then and there, that I never would ask -him to pay out one cent to hire any body to read it. He has perfect -confidence in me and he brightened up and haint never said a word sense -against the idea, and that is the way this book come to be wrote. - - - - -WHAT IS IN THE BOOK. - - - MARRIED TO JOSIAH ALLEN. - - Livin’ up to one Idee--Love at First Sight--A Marriage of - Love--Why did I Love Josiah?--A Becon that has never gone - out--Men can’t stand Flattery--My Present feelin’s towards - Josiah--Objections to Widowers--Comparin’ Wives--Josiah not - encouraged in it--Rule for Domestic Happiness 17-20 - - JOSIAH AND THE CHILDREN. - - A hard row for Step-Mothers--Thomas Jefferson and Tirzah - Ann--Thomas J. on Foreordination--Tirzah Ann’s sentiments--A - Hefty Angel--Makin’ excuses at table--How to make Bad Cake - taste good--Our Farm on the Canal--Plenty of Garden Sass--4 - Tons to the acre 21-25 - - AN UNMARRIED FEMALE. - - Betsey Bobbet introduced--While there is Life there is Hope of - getting married--Betsey’s personal appearance--Betsey’s Opinions - and Views of a Woman’s Speah--Betsey writes Poetry--A Specimen - of it--Owed to Josiah--Josiah makes a Confession and gets - Rebuked--Betsey Bobbet visits me unexpectedly--Gushin’s of a - Tendeh Soul--The Editah with Twins--Weddin’ Affinities 26-37 - - HAVIN’ MY PICTURE TOOK. - - Down to Jonesville--In Mr. Gansey’s Aunty Room--Preparin’ for - a Picture--The Editer of the Augur--Daughters of Bachus and - Venus--Haunts of the Graces--“Logical Reveries”--A Poem--My - Picture Took 38-45 - - OUR SURPRISE PARTIES. - - My opinions of Surprises--I am persuaded to go--A Surprise - Party Surprised--Not wanted just then--An Upset in the snow--A - Peaceful Evening at home--Josiah and I enjoying ourselves - Doctorin’--Our Happiness interrupted--Surprised by a Party of - 50--Fearful excitement of Josiah--The Enemy retire--The Editer - surprised--Betsey writes a Poem upon it 46-57 - - A DAY OF TROUBLES. - - Sugerin’ Time--Woman’s work--Man’s work--The Editer brings his - Twins--There first doin’s--The trouble begins--Betsey Bobbet - arrives--I think of John Rogers and have Patience--Betsey and - the twins--A Soothin’ Poultice--An Argument with Betsey--I - Preach and Practice--Betsey asks Advice and gets It--Betsey - reads a Poem--She gets more of my Opinions--Return of the - Editer--Concludes to stay to Dinner--Sees Betsey and changes - his mind--Grand Tableaux by the whole company 58-68 - - THE MINISTER’S BEDQUILT. - - Thomas J. believes in water for the Baptists--Reasons for goin’ - to Quiltin’s--The Baptist Quiltin’ Party--We dispose of all our - neighbors not present--Miss Dobbin, a peacemaker--The Minister’s - wife discussed--Betsey Bobbet arrives--She labors under great - excitement and overwhelms the party with her mysterious - words--Astounding disclosures--Thomas J.’s story to Betsey--The - story discussed--Handsome Ministers--Wimmen flingin’ stuns--The - Minister arrives--The mystery solved 69-84 - - A ALLEGORY ON WIMMEN’S RIGHTS. - - A Wimmen’s Rights Meetin’--A Wimmen’s Rights man--Idiots, - Lunatics and Wimmen--The Woman sheep-stealer--Wimmen have a right - to go to Prison and be Hung--Wimmen in Court--The right to go to - the Hop and Cistern Poles--An anti Wimmen’s Rights man--Hired - Husbands--Marriage and Slavery--True Marriages--Happy Homes and - Children--An Angel calling for Fire Wood 85-98 - - AN AXIDENT. - - Bothered by Hens--A model Pup Dog--A Fall--Very sick - a-bed--“That’s what’s the matter”--What makes Angels--Too much of - a thing--Josiah being cheerful--I use Strategim--Betsey visits me - and brings her Bed-Quilt--Come to spend the day--All the Family - comin’--Keepin’ me quiet and Chirkin’ me up--She flies in terror - from my wrath--Blasted Hopes 99-111 - - THE JONESVILLE SINGIN’ QUIRE. - - Worryin’ about Girls and not about Boys--Wimmen’s Charity for - Wimmen--The Prodigal Daughter’s return--What is good for a Boy - is good for a Girl--A Spy in the Family--Tirzah Ann’s future - Marriage--Thomas J. prefers a back seat--He describes the - Quire--We go up to the Rehersal--A United Quire--The Entire - Orkusstree--A Artistic Duett--Josiah breaks out in Song--Betsey - Remonstrates in Verse 112-126 - - MISS SHAKESPEARE’S EARRINGS. - - Josiah gives up Singin’--Betsey feelin’ lonesome, visits - me--She bemoans her lone state--Betsey is willin’ but the men - haint--A smile or a supper--Correctin’ a Husband--Woman as a - runnin’ vine--The Elder’s Choice--The Carpet Pedler--Bound for - a Trade--Bill Shakespeare’s present--An affectin’ story--Betsey - makes a purchase--Thomas J. turns poet--Betsey shows her - prize--The Minister’s Wife’s old Jewelry--Betsey sick at heart, - goes home 127-144 - - A NITE OF TROUBLES. - - A Serenade disturbed by Thomas J.--Musical powers of Cats--Josiah - on the war-path--Another Serenade--Josiah swears--“Come, oh come - with me”--Josiah shows wickedness--A “meloncholly man”--The - Serenader “languishes”--An Address by Thomas J.--Relics left on - the field 145-156 - - 4th OF JULY IN JONESVILLE. - - The Professor’s Poem--The Celebration on the field--Professor - Aspire Todd--The Professor’s Speech--Old Mr. Bobbet endorses - the speaker--The Editer interferes--“Yes! dround the Black - Cat”--The next Speaker--An Argument Illustrated--A Wife’s - Devotion--Adjournment for Dinner--Toasts given--A Poem by B. - B.--At Home Countin’ the Cost--What good has it done? 157-174 - - SIMON SLIMPSEY’S MOURNFUL FOREBODIN’S. - - Thomas J. discusses the Jews--He expresses his Opinion of - Betsey’s Religion--A visit from Simon Slimpsey--His - appearance--A Victim of bad luck--“She’ll get round me”--A - Poem for Modest Wimmen, by B. B.--Slimpsey don’t want to - marry--Reconciled to the loss of his late Consort--Overcome - by his fears for the future 177-187 - - FREE LOVE LECTURES. - - A Beautiful October day, good to pull Beets--Betsey gets Kissed - at last--A Professor that was married some--Married Men good - for some purposes--A Free Love Song--A war Cry--Professor - Gusher’s Visit--Peppermint recommended to the Professor for his - troubles--No Yearnin’ for Freedom--Value of Divorce Bills--What - I would do if I Yearned--A Mean Business 188-200 - - ELDER WESLEY MINKLE’S DONATION. - - Betsey visits me and brings her Tattin’--She Mourns over her - neglected duties--She decides in future to work and also to - prey--The Donation Party--Josiah objects to them--Quotes - the ’postle Paul as an Example--How we went and what was - Donated--Brother Minkley re-preaches his sermon to me--The - Elder tempted--The Grab Bag--The Elder throws the tempter--A - new attack of the Enemy--Grab Bags and Huzzies finally - overcome--Match Makin’--The Editer arrives--He congratulates - himself--Married and Saved--Betsey’s disappointment and wild - agony--She seeks relief in Poetry--She desires to be a ghost 201-221 - - WIMMEN’S SPEAH. - - The new Preacher clung to--A Visit from Betsey--A Discussion - on Wimmen’s Speah--Female Delicacy as shown in Waltzin’ with - Pirates mebbe--Wimmen as boards--Tattin’ and Paintin’--Dressin’ - and Flirtin’--Readin’ Novels--Paul’s Letters--Wimmen’s - talk--Itchin’ ears--Betsey’s new Poem on Matrimony--True - Marriage--About Divorces--Clingers--Baptist Wimmen Voters--Nater - will out: a hen will Scratch--Wimmen won’t be driven--Betsey - prefers to walk home and is accommodated 222-243 - - A TOWER TO NEW YORK DISCUSSED. - - Progress of affairs at Jonesville--Peace and Plenty--Betsey - alive but Quiet--H. Greeley and I differ in some things--I - propose a Tower--Josiah shows Jealousy--Democrats short of - President Stuff--H. G. up for President--Effect of Suspense on - me--Josiah consents to the Tower--Preparations--An Overskirt - important--Josiah sells the Critter 244-257 - - GOVERNED BY PRINCIPLE. - - Open preparations for the Tower--Josiah’s White Hat--My - Principles induce me also to wear one--Old “Hail the Day” - contributes Feathers--On the Political Fence--Betsey also - proposes a Tower--At the Depott--Betsey Explains--The 1st - Partin’ for 15 years 258-271 - - MEETIN’ GRANT AND COLFAX. - - The Ticket Master--Folks I met with--Lack of Water - Privileges--A Cigar without smoke--The Smilin’ Stranger--Bad - use of Eggs--Grant and Colfax--“Ulysses, how do you do”--Betsey - reads a Poem to Gen’l Grant--“Let us have Peace”--Betsey - overcome by Strategim 272-287 - - AT NEW YORK, ASTERS’ES TAVERN. - - A Familiar Stranger--“Will you have a bus?”--Betsey’s Hopes--A - Vegetable Widow--Procession on Broadway--Miss Asters’es - Tavern--The Register--The Elevator--First thoughts in the - Mornin’--Breakfast table--An Insult--Store Tea--I leave the - Water Runnin’--Betsey Disappointed again 288-305 - - MEET DR. MARY WALKER. - - Call on Miss Hooker--Engaged and what of it--At Miss - Woodhull’s door--Of Doubtful Gender--Miss Dr. - Walker--Admittance obtained--A newly Married Man--Two Roman - Noses 306-312 - - INTERVIEW WITH THEODORE AND VICTORY. - - Elizabeth Cady Stanton--H. W. Beecher--Isabella Beecher - Hooker--Susan B. Anthony--Theodore Tilton--Victory - Woodhull--Male and Female Angels--Feathers on Angel’s - Wings--Blind Marriages--Thoroughwert Pukes--Theodore’s - Opinions--He Advocates Divorces--To Marry and not to Marry - both Solemn--Betsey’s Prayer--Theodore yields 313-335 - - A WIMMEN’S RIGHTS LECTURER. - - A Visitor--Been on a Lecture Tower--Tyrant man--A Cure for - Pantin’ Hearts--A Star of Hope--Dress and Statesmanship--A - Dinner and a Desert 336-347 - - ALEXANDER’S STORE. - - Mr. Cash’es Family--Alexander don’t take Butter, Eggs, Socks, - or Barter--A Look at Calicos--Foreign Princes--Dolly Varden - and her Acquaintances--A Dreadful Discovery--Betsey’s Poetry - in Market 348-356 - - A HARROWIN’ OPERATION. - - A poor Maniac--A Affectin’ Sight--A Ear for Music--Tirzah - Ann a Musician--Operation of the D-David--Farewell to Mrs. - Asters’es 357-364 - - A VISIT TO HORACE. - - First Impressions of him--No Peace for Candidates--Men - all Alike--Darwin’s Idees--Horace’s old Letters--His - Admissions--Wimmen’s Influence at Washington--The Wrong - Foot Forrerd--A Woman, or Patrick Oh Flanegan--The Widder - Albert--Queen Bees--Paul’s Opinions--Christ’s Example--Nearly - Overcome--Betsey’s Overtures--Horace and I Part 365-396 - - A SEA VOYAGE. - - Left by the Cars--On the Canal Boat--Terrible Storm--Dangers - Surround Us--Betsey Writes a Poem--Sings Sea Odes--The - Poem--At Home 397-405 - - OLD FRIENDS IN NEW GARMENTS. - - Betsey Bobbet Married--Poor Simon Slimpsey--Betsey at Home--Her - Last Poem--The End 406-420 - - HOME AND JOSIAH. - - Bad News--Horace Greeley dead--A Review of my Tower--Victory - in Jail--Miss Aster a deception--Beecher slandered--Tilton - do. do.--Doubts of Josiah--My Kitchen--I wear a bow on - principle--Our supper--Josiah grows sentimental--I don’t - discourage him 421-434 - - - - -PICTURES IN THE BOOK. - - - PAGE. - - 1 THE PLEASANT SUPPER (FULL PAGE) (_Frontispiece_) - - 2 I AND JOSIAH 19 - - 3 REFRESHMENTS (TAIL PIECE) 20 - - 4 TIRZAH ANN 23 - - 5 BETSEY BOBBET 27 - - 6 READIN’ POETRY 33 - - 7 LOOKING FOR A VICTIM (TAIL PIECE) 37 - - 8 PREPARIN’ FOR A PICTURE 39 - - 9 THE PICTURE 45 - - 10 THE SURPRISE PARTY (FULL PAGE) 53 - - 11 DELICIOUS (TAIL PIECE) 57 - - 12 THE QUILTIN’ PARTY (FULL PAGE) 77 - - 13 SCANDALIZED (TAIL PIECE) 84 - - 14 AN ACCIDENT 101 - - 15 JOSIAH BEIN’ CHEERFUL 105 - - 16 KEEPIN’ THE SICK QUIET 109 - - 17 A FULL QUIRE 123 - - 18 THE EAR RING PEDLER (FULL PAGE) 141 - - 19 DISGUST (TAIL PIECE) 144 - - 20 THE SERENADERS (FULL PAGE) 150 - - 21 MEWSIN’ (TAIL PIECE) 156 - - 22 THE FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION (FULL PAGE) 162 - - 23 WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DINNER (FULL PAGE) 170 - - 24 COUNTIN’ THE COST (FULL PAGE) 175 - - 25 SIMON SLIMPSEY 182 - - 26 SIMON OVERWHELMED 187 - - 27 PROF. GUSHER 195 - - 28 LIVIN’ ON GOSPEL 204 - - 29 THE ENEMY ATTACKED 210 - - 30 THE ELDER ON THE ALERT 213 - - 31 BETSEY SEEKS RELIEF 219 - - 32 A STRONG ATTACHMENT (TAIL PIECE) 221 - - 33 FEMALE DELICACY 224 - - 34 NO TIME TO VOTE 226 - - 35 DREADFUL SHORT OF TIME 227 - - 36 NO TIME TO STUDY LAWS 228 - - 37 A WOMAN’S RIGHTS (FULL PAGE) 234 - - 38 PRIMARY MEETINGS AND RESULTS (FULL PAGE) 241 - - 39 A VICTORY (TAIL PIECE) 256 - - 40 VISIT TO JONESVILLE (FULL PAGE) 263 - - 41 GONE (TAIL PIECE) 271 - - 42 THE SMILIN’ STRANGER (FULL PAGE) 278 - - 43 “LET US HAVE PEACE” (FULL PAGE) 284 - - 44 ON THE STREET 305 - - 45 HARD AT WORK (FULL PAGE) 317 - - 46 BETSEY’S PRAYER 334 - - 47 ON A LECTURIN’ TOWER (FULL PAGE) 339 - - 48 HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT? 342 - - 49 FEMALE STATESMANSHIP 345 - - 50 DON’T TAKE BARTER 350 - - 51 DOLLY VARDEN 354 - - 52 A HARROWIN’ SCENE 358 - - 53 INTERVIEW WITH HORACE (FULL PAGE) 369 - - 54 FILLIN’ WOMAN’S SPEAR UNDER DIFFICULTIES (FULL PAGE) 395 - - 55 AT HOME 402 - - 56 MR. BOBBET TELLS NEWS (FULL PAGE) 407 - - - - -MARRIED TO JOSIAH ALLEN. - - -If anybody had told me when I was first born that I would marry to a -widower, I should have been mad at ’em. I lived up to this idee quite -a number of years, how many, is nobody’s business, that I will contend -for. I laughed at the idee of love in my blindness of eye. But the first -minute I sot my grey eye onto Josiah Allen I knew my fate. My heart was a -pray to feelin’s it had heretofore been a stranger to. - -Sez I to myself “Is this love?” I couldn’t answer, I was too agitated. - -Josiah told me afterwards that he felt jest exactly the same, only, -when his heart wildly put the question to him, “Is it love you feel for -Samantha Smith?” he havin’ experience in the same, answered, “Yes, it is -love.” - -I married Josiah Allen (in mother’s parlor, on the fourteenth day of -June, in a bran new silk dress with a long boddis waist) from pure love. -Though why I loved him, I know not. I looked at his mild face beamin’ on -me from above his black silk stock, which kep’ his head kinder stiff, and -asked myself this question, “Why do you love him?” I reckolected then, -and I have recalled it to his mind several times sense in our little -differences of opinion, which occur in the happiest families--that I had -had offers from men, handsomer than him, with more intelect than him, -with more riches than him, with less children than him. Why didn’t I love -these various men? I knew not. I can only repeat in the immortal and -almost deathless lines of the poet, “Love will go where it is sent.” - -Yes, Josiah Allen was my fate, and when I laid my light silk glove in -his’en (they was almost of a color, a kind of cinnemen broun) before the -alter, or that is before Elder Wesley Minkley, I did it with the purest -and tenderest emotions of love. - -And that love has been like a Becon in our pathway ever sense. Its pure -light, though it has sputtered some, and in tryin’ times such as washin’ -days and cleanin’ house times has burnt down pretty low,--has never gone -out. - -When I married him the bald spot on his head wuzn’t much bigger than a -new silver dollar. Now the top of his head is as smooth and clean as one -of my stun china dinner plates, and if any horse jocky was to try to -judge of his age by lookin’ at his teeth, they would be baffled, not but -what he has got some teeth, but they are pretty scatterin’. But still -that Becon shines, that pure love triumphs over lost teeth and vanished -sandy hair. There haint a man on the face of the earth that looks so -good to me as Josiah Allen. I don’t tell him this, mind you, 14 years -experience of married life has taught me caution. Josiah is as good as -they’ll average generally, but no man can’t stand too much flattery, men -are naturally vain. - -[Illustration: I AND JOSIAH.] - -As I said in the commencement of this plain and unvarnished history, -I had almost a deadly objection to widowers owin’ to their habit of -comparin’ their second wives to their first relict, to the disadvantage -of the first-named pardner. Josiah tride it with me when we was first -married. But I _didn’t encourage him in it_. He began on several various -times, “It seems to me Samantha that Polly Ann used to fry up her meat a -little cripsier,” or “It seems as if Polly Ann used to make my collers a -little stiffer.” He stopped it before we had been married a year, for _I -didn’t encourage it in him_. - -As I mean that this book shall be a Becon light, guidin’ female wimmen, -to life, liberty, and the pursuit of true happiness, I would insert right -here this word of solem’ warnin’ to my sect situated in the tryin’ place -of second consorts, if the relict goes to comparin’ you to his foregone -consort, _don’t encourage him in it_. On this short rule hangs the hope -of domestick harmony. - -[Illustration] - - - - -ABOUT JOSIAH AND THE CHILDREN. - - -But step-mothers have a pretty hard row to hoe, though I don’t complain. -I like children, clean children first rate, and I have tried to do my -duty by his’en. I have done as well by ’em as I knew how to, and I think -a sight of Thomas Jefferson and Tirzah Ann. Tirzah Ann is dreadful -sentimental, that is what spiles her mostly. And Thomas Jefferson thinks -he knows more than his father, that is his greatest failin’. But take ’em -all through, they are _full_ as good as other folks’es children, and I -know it. Thomas Jefferson is dreadful big feelin’, he is 17 years old, -he wears a stove pipe hat, and is tryin’ to raise a moustache, it is now -jest about as long as the fuzz on cotton flannel and most as white. They -both go to Jonesville to high school, (we hire a room for ’em to Mother -Allen’s, and they board themselves,) but they are to home every Saturday, -and then they kinder quarell all day jest as brothers and sisters will. -What agravates Thomas J. the worst is to call him “bub,” and Tirzah Ann -don’t call him anything else unless she forgets herself. - -He seems to think it is manly to have doubts about religeon. I put -him through the catechism, and thought he was sound. But he seems to -think it is manly to argue about free moral agency, foreordination, and -predestination, and his father is jest fool enough to argue with him. Sez -he last Saturday, - -“Father, if it was settled beyond question six or seven thousand years -ago that I was goin’ to be lost what good does it do for me to squirm? -and if it was settled that I was goin’ to be saved, how be I goin’ to -help myself?” sez he, “I believe we can’t help ourselves, what was meant -to happen, will happen.” - -Before his father had time to speak--Josiah is a slow spoken man, Tirzah -Ann spoke up-- - -“Bub, if it was settled six or seven thousand years ago that I should -take your new jockey club and hair oil, and use ’em all myself, why then -I shall.” - -“Tirzah Ann,” says he “If you should touch ’em it was foreordained from -creation that you would get dreadfully hurt.” But I spoke up then for the -first time, says I, - -“You see Thomas J. that come to fighting you have moral agency enough--or -immoral agency. Now,” says I, “I won’t hear another word from you, you -Thomas J. are a young fool, and you Josiah Allen are a old one, now,” -says I “go to the barn, for I want to mop.” - -Tirzah Ann as I said is dreadful sentimental, I don’t know which -side she took it from, though I mistrust that Josiah if he had any -encouragement would act spoony. I am not the woman to encourage any kind -of foolishness. I remember when we was first engaged, he called me “a -little angel.” I jest looked at him calmly and says I, - -“I weigh two hundred and 4 pounds,” and he didn’t call me so again. - -[Illustration: TIRZAH ANN.] - -No! sentiment aint my style, and I abhor all kinds of shams and -deceitfulness. Now to the table you don’t ketch me makin’ excuses. I -should feel as mean as pusley if I did. Though once in a while when I -have particuler company, and my cookin’ turns out bad, I kinder turn the -conversation on to the sufferin’s of our four fathers in the Revolution, -how they eat their katridge boxes and shoe leather. It don’t do us no -hurt to remember their sufferin’s, and after talkin’ about eatin’ shoe -leather most any kind of cake seems tender. - -I spose that life runs along with Josiah and the children and me about -as easy as it does with most men and female wimmen. We have got a farm -of 75 acres of land all paid for. A comfortable story and a half yeller -house--good barns, and a bran new horse barn, and health. Our door yard -is large and shady with apple, and pear, and cherry trees; and Tirzah -Ann has got posy beds under the winders that look first rate. And where -there haint no posy beds nor shade trees, the grass grows smooth and -green, and it is a splendid place to dry clothes. On the north side of -the house is our orchard, the trees grow clear up to our kitchen winder, -and when the north door is open in the spring of the year, and I stand -there ironin’, the trees all covered with pink blows it is a pleasant -sight. But a still pleasanter sight is it in the fall of the year to -stand in the door and see Josiah and Thomas Jefferson pickin’ up barells -of the great red and yeller grafts at a dollar a bushel. Beyond the -orchard down a little bit of a side hill runs the clear water of the -canal. In front of the house towards the south--but divided from it by a -good sized door yard and a picket fence, runs the highway, and back of -the house, if I do say it that ortn’t to, there is as good a garden as -there is in these parts. For I set my foot down in the first ont, that I -_would_ have garden sass of all kinds, and strawberrys, and gooseberrys, -and currant, and berry bushes, and glad enough is Josiah now to think -that he heard to me. It took a little work of course, but I believe in -havin’ things good to eat, and so does Josiah. That man has told me -more’n a hundred times sense that “of all the sass that ever was made, -garden sass was the best sass.” To the south of the house is our big -meadow--the smell of the clover in the summer is as sweet as anything, -our bees get the biggest part of their honey there, the grass looks -beautiful wavin’ in the sunshine, and Josiah cut from it last summer 4 -tons of hay to the acre. - - - - -AN UNMARRIED FEMALE. - - -I suppose we are about as happy as the most of folks, but as I was -sayin’, a few days ago to Betsy Bobbet a neighborin’ female of -ours--“Every Station house in life has its various skeletons. But we -ort to try to be contented with that spear of life we are called on to -handle.” Betsey haint married and she don’t seem to be contented. She is -awful opposed to wimmen’s rights, she thinks it is wimmen’s only spear -to marry, but as yet she can’t find any man willin’ to lay holt of that -spear with her. But you can read in her daily life and on her eager -willin’ countenance that she fully realizes the sweet words of the poet, -“while there is life there is hope.” - -Betsey haint handsome. Her cheek bones are high, and she bein’ not much -more than skin and bone they show plainer than they would if she was in -good order. Her complexion (not that I blame her for it) haint good, and -her eyes are little and sot way back in her head. Time has seen fit -to deprive her of her hair and teeth, but her large nose he has kindly -suffered her to keep, but she has got the best white ivory teeth money -will buy; and two long curls fastened behind each ear, besides frizzles -on the top of her head, and if she wasn’t naturally bald, and if the -curls was the color of her hair they would look well. She is awful -sentimental, I have seen a good many that had it bad, but of all the -sentimental creeters I ever did see Betsey Bobbet is the sentimentalest, -you couldn’t squeeze a laugh out of her with a cheeze press. - -[Illustration: BETSEY BOBBET.] - -As I said she is awful opposed to wimmin’s havein’ any right only the -right to get married. She holds on to that right as tight as any single -woman I ever see which makes it hard and wearin’ on the single men round -here. For take the men that are the most opposed to wimmin’s havin’ a -right, and talk the most about its bein’ her duty to cling to man like a -vine to a tree, they don’t want Betsey to cling to them, they _won’t let_ -her cling to ’em. For when they would be a goin’ on about how wicked it -was for wimmin to vote--and it was her only spear to marry, says I to -’em “Which had you ruther do, let Betsey Bobbet cling to you or let her -vote?” and they would every one of ’em quail before that question. They -would drop their heads before my keen grey eyes--and move off the subject. - -But Betsey don’t get discourajed. Every time I see her she says in a -hopeful wishful tone, “That the deepest men of minds in the country agree -with her in thinkin’ that it is wimmin’s duty to marry, and not to vote.” -And then she talks a sight about the retirin’ modesty and dignity of -the fair sect, and how shameful and revoltin’ it would be to see wimmen -throwin’ ’em away, and boldly and unblushin’ly talkin’ about law and -justice. - -Why to hear Betsey Bobbet talk about wimmin’s throwin’ their modesty away -you would think if they ever went to the political pole, they would have -to take their dignity and modesty and throw ’em against the pole, and go -without any all the rest of their lives. - -Now I don’t believe in no such stuff as that, I think a woman can be bold -and unwomanly in other things besides goin’ with a thick veil over her -face, and a brass mounted parasol, once a year, and gently and quietly -dropping a vote for a christian president, or a religeous and noble -minded pathmaster. - -She thinks she talks dreadful polite and proper, she says “I was -cameing” instead of “I was coming,” and “I have saw” instead of “I have -seen,” and “papah” for paper, and “deah” for dear. I don’t know much -about grammer, but common sense goes a good ways. She writes the poetry -for the Jonesville Augur, or “Augah,” as she calls it. She used to write -for the opposition paper, the Jonesville Gimlet, but the editer of -the Augur, a long haired chap, who moved into Jonesville a few months -ago, lost his wife soon after he come there, and sense that she has -turned Dimocrat, and writes for his paper stiddy. They say that he is a -dreadful big feelin’ man, and I have heard--it came right straight to -me--his cousin’s wife’s sister told it to the mother in law of one of my -neighbor’s brother’s wife, that he didn’t like Betsey’s poetry at all, -and all he printed it for was to plague the editer of the Gimlet, because -she used to write for him. I myself wouldn’t give a cent a bushel for -all the poetry she can write. And it seems to me, that if I was Betsey, -I wouldn’t try to write so much, howsumever, I don’t know what turn I -should take if I was Betsey Bobbet, that is a solemn subject and one I -don’t love to think on. - -I never shall forget the first piece of her poetry I ever see. Josiah -Allen and I had both on us been married goin’ on a year, and I had -occasion to go to his trunk one day where he kept a lot of old papers, -and the first thing I laid my hand on was these verses. Josiah went with -her a few times after his wife died, a 4th of July or so and two or -three camp meetin’s, and the poetry seemed to be wrote about the time -_we_ was married. It was directed over the top of it “Owed to Josiah,” -just as if she were in debt to him. This was the way it read. - - “OWED TO JOSIAH. - - Josiah I the tale have hurn, - With rigid ear, and streaming eye, - I saw from me that you did turn, - I never knew the reason why. - Oh Josiah, - It seemed as if I must expiah. - - Why did you, Oh why did you blow - Upon my life of snowy sleet, - The fiah of love to fiercest glow, - Then turn a damphar on the heat? - Oh Josiah, - It seemed as if I must expiah. - - I saw thee coming down the street, - _She_ by your side in bonnet bloo; - The stuns that grated ’neath thy feet - Seemed crunching on my vitals too. - Oh Josiah, - It seemed as if I must expiah. - - I saw thee washing sheep last night, - On the bridge I stood with marble brow, - The waters raged, thou clasped it tight, - I sighed, ‘should both be drownded now--’ - I thought Josiah, - Oh happy sheep to thus expiah.” - -I showed the poetry to Josiah that night after he came home, and told him -I had read it. He looked awful ashamed to think I had seen it, and says -he with a dreadful sheepish look, - -“The persecution I underwent from that female can never be told, she -fairly hunted me down, I hadn’t no rest for the soles of my feet. I -thought one spell she would marry me in spite of all I could do, without -givin’ me the benefit of law or gospel.” He see I looked stern, and he -added with a sick lookin’ smile, “I thought one spell, to use Betsey’s -language, ‘I was a gonah.’” - -I didn’t smile--oh no, for the deep principle of my sect was reared up--I -says to him in a tone cold enough to almost freeze his ears, “Josiah -Allen, shet up, of all the cowardly things a man ever done, it is goin’ -round braggin’ about wimmen’ likin’ em, and follerin’ em up. Enny man -that’ll do that is little enough to crawl through a knot hole without -rubbing his clothes.” Says I, “I suppose you made her think the moon rose -in your head, and set in your heels, I dare say you acted foolish enough -round her to sicken a snipe, and if you make fun of her now to please me -I let you know you have got holt of the wrong individual.” Now, says I, -“go to bed,” and I added in still more freezing accents, “for I want to -mend your pantaloons.” He gathered up his shoes and stockin’s and started -off to bed, and we haint never passed a word on the subject sence. I -believe when you disagree with your pardner, in freein’ your _mind_ in -the first on’t, and then not be a twittin’ about it afterwards. And as -for bein’ jealous, I should jest as soon think of bein’ jealous of a -meetin’-house as I should of Josiah. He is a well principled man. And I -guess he wasn’t fur out o’ the way about Betsey Bobbet, though I wouldn’t -encourage him by lettin’ him say a word on the subject, for I always make -it a rule to stand up for my own sect; but when I hear her go on about -the editor of the Augur, I can believe anything about Betsey Bobbet. She -came in here one day last week, it was about ten o’clock in the mornin’. -I had got my house slick as a pin, and my dinner under way, (I was goin’ -to have a biled dinner, and a cherry puddin’ biled, with sweet sass to -eat on it,) and I sot down to finish sewin’ up the breadth of my new rag -carpet. I thought I would get it done while I hadn’t so much to do, for -it bein’ the first of March, I knew sugarin’ would be comin’ on, and then -cleanin’ house time, and I wanted it to put down jest as soon as the -stove was carried out in the summer kitchen. The fire was sparklin’ away, -and the painted floor a shinin’ and the dinner a bilin’, and I sot there -sewin’ jest as calm as a clock, not dreamin’ of no trouble, when in came -Betsey Bobbet. - -I met her with outward calm, and asked her to set down and lay off her -things. She sot down, but she said she couldn’t lay off her things. Says -she, “I was comin’ down past, and I thought I would call and let you -see the last numbah of the Augah, there is a piece in it concernin’ the -tariff that stirs men’s souls, I like it evah so much.” - -[Illustration: READING POETRY.] - -She handed me the paper, folded so I couldn’t see nothin’ but a piece of -poetry by Betsey Bobbet. I see what she wanted of me and so I dropped my -breadths of carpetin’ and took hold of it and began to read it. - -“Read it audible if you please,” says she, “Especially the precious -remahks ovah it, it is such a feast for me to be a sitting, and heah it -reheahsed by a musical vorce.” - -Says I, “I spose I can rehearse it if it will do you any good,” so I -began as follers: - -“It is seldem that we present to the readers of the Augur (the best -paper for the fireside in Jonesville or the world) with a poem like -the following. It may be by the assistance of the Augur (only twelve -shillings a year in advance, wood and potatoes taken in exchange) the -name of Betsey Bobbet will yet be carved on the lofty pinnacle of fame’s -towering pillow. We think however that she could study such writers as -Sylvanus Cobb, and Tupper with profit both to herself and to them. - - EDITOR OF THE AUGUR.” - -Here Betsey interrupted me, “The deah editah of the Augah had no need to -advise me to read Tuppah, for he is indeed my most favorite authar, you -have devorhed him havn’t you Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -“Devoured who?” says I, in a tone pretty near as cold as a cold icicle. - -“Mahten, Fahyueah, Tuppah, that sweet authar,” says she. - -“No mom,” says I shortly, “I hain’t devoured Martin Farquhar Tupper, nor -no other man, I hain’t a cannibal.” - -“Oh! you understand me not, I meant, devorhed his sweet, tender lines.” - -“I hain’t devoured his tenderlines, nor nothin’ relatin’ to him,” and I -made a motion to lay the paper down, but Betsey urged me to go on, and so -I read. - - GUSHINGS OF A TENDAH SOUL. - - Oh let who will, - Oh let who can, - Be tied onto - A horrid male man. - - Thus said I ’ere, - My tendah heart was touched, - Thus said I ’ere - My tendah feelings gushed. - - But oh a change - Hath swept ore me, - As billows sweep - The “deep blue sea.” - - A voice, a noble form, - One day I saw; - An arrow flew, - My heart is nearly raw. - - His first pardner lies - Beneath the turf, - He is wandering now, - In sorrows briny surf. - - Two twins, the little - Deah cherub creechahs, - Now wipe the teahs, - From off his classic feachahs. - - Oh sweet lot, worthy - Angel arisen, - To wipe the teahs, - From eyes like his’en. - -“What think you of it?” says she as I finished readin’. - -I looked right at her most a minute with a majestic look. In spite of her -false curls, and her new white ivory teeth, she is a humbly critter. I -looked at her silently while she sot and twisted her long yeller bunnet -strings, and then I spoke out, - -“Hain’t the Editor of the Augur a widower with a pair of twins?” - -“Yes,” says she with a happy look. - -Then says I, “If the man hain’t a fool, he’ll think you are one.” - -“Oh!” says she, and she dropped her bunnet strings, and clasped her long -bony hands together in her brown cotton gloves, “oh, we ahdent soles of -genious, have feelin’s, you cold, practical natures know nuthing of, and -if they did not gush out in poetry we should expiah. You may as well try -to tie up the gushing catarack of Niagarah with a piece of welting cord, -as to tie up the feelings of an ahdent sole.” - -“Ardent sole!” says I coldly. “Which makes the most noise, Betsey Bobbet, -a three inch brook or a ten footer? which is the tearer? which is the -roarer? deep waters run stillest. I have no faith in feelin’s that stalk -round in public in mournin’ weeds. I have no faith in such mourners,” -says I. - -“Oh Josiah’s wife, cold, practical female being, you know me not; we are -sundered as fah apart as if you was sitting on the North pole, and I was -sitting on the South pole. Uncongenial being, you know me not.” - -“I may not know you, Betsey Bobbet, but I do know decency, and I know -that no munny would tempt me to write such stuff as that poetry and send -it to a widower, with twins.” - -“Oh!” says she, “what appeals to the tendah feeling heart of a single -female woman more, than to see a lonely man who has lost his relict? -And pity never seems so much like pity as when it is given to the deah -little children of widowehs. And,” says she, “I think moah than as likely -as not, this soaring soul of genious did not wed his affinity, but was -united to a weak women of clay.” - -“Mere women of clay!” says I, fixin’ my spektacles upon her in a most -searchin’ manner, “where will you find a woman, Betsey Bobbet, that -hain’t more or less clay? and affinity, that is the meanest word I ever -heard; no married woman has any right to hear it. I’ll excuse you, bein’ -a female, but if a man had said it to me, I’d holler to Josiah. There is -a time for everything, and the time to hunt affinity is before you are -married; married folks hain’t no right to hunt it,” says I sternly. - -“We kindred souls soah above such petty feelings, we soah fah above them.” - -“I hain’t much of a soarer,” says I, “and I don’t pretend to be, and to -tell you the truth,” says I, “I am glad I hain’t.” - -“The Editah of the Augah,” says she, and she grasped the paper off’en -the stand and folded it up, and presented it at me like a spear, “the -Editah of this paper is a kindred soul, he appreciates me, he undahstands -me, and will not our names in the pages of this very papah go down to -posterety togathah?” - -Then says I, drove out of all patience with her, “I wish you was there -now, both of you, I wish,” says I, lookin’ fixedly on her, “I wish you -was both of you in posterity now.” - -[Illustration] - - - - -HAVING MY PICTURE TOOK. - - -The very next Saturday after I had this conversation with Betsey, I went -down to Jonesville to have my picture took, Tirzah Ann bein’ to home so -she could get dinner for the menfolks. As for me I don’t set a great deal -of store by pictures, but Josiah insisted and the children insisted, and -I went. Tirzah Ann wanted me to have my hair curled, but there I was -firm, I give in on the handkerchief pin, but on the curl business, there -I was rock. - -Mr. Gansey the man that takes pictures was in another room takin’ some, -so I walked round the aunty room, as they call it, lookin’ at the -pictures that hang up on the wall, and at the people that come in to have -theirs took. Some of ’em was fixed up dreadful; it seemed to me as if -they tried to look so that nobody wouldn’t know whose pictures they was, -after they was took. Some of ’em would take off their bunnets and gaze -in the lookin’-glass at themselves and try to look smilin’, and get an -expression onto their faces that they never owned. - -[Illustration: PREPARING FOR A PICTURE.] - -In one corner of the room was a bewrow, with a lookin’-glass and hair -brushes onto it, and before it stood a little man dreadful dressed up, -with long black hair streamin’ down over his coat coller, engaged in -pouring a vial of oil onto his head, and brushing his hair with one of -the brushes. I knew him in a minute, for I had seen him come into the -meetin’ house. Afterwards when I was jest standin’ before the picture of -a dreadful harmless lookin’ man--he looked meek enough to make excuses to -his shadder for goin’ before it, and I was jest sayin’ to myself, “There -is a man who would fry pancakes without complainin’,” I heard a voice -behind me sayin’, - -“So the navish villian stalks round yet in decent society.” - -I turned round imegiately and see the little man, who had got through -fixin’ his hair to have his pictur took, standin’ before me. - -“Who do you mean?” says I calmly. “Who is stalkin’ round?” - -“The Editor of the Gimlet,” says he, “whose vile image defiles the walls -of this temple of art, the haunt of Aglia, Thalia, and Euphrosine.” - -“Who?” says I glancin’ keenly at him over my specks, “the haunt of who?” - -Says he “The daughters of Bachus and Venus.” - -Says I “I don’t know anything about Miss Bachus, nor the Venus girls,” -and says I with spirit, “if they are any low creeters I don’t thank you -for speakin’ of ’em to me, nor Josiah won’t neether. This room belongs -to Jeremiah Gansey, and he has got a wife, a likely woman, that belongs -to the same meetin’ house and the same class that I do, and he haint no -business to have other girls hauntin’ his rooms. If there is anything -wrong goin’ on I shall tell Sister Gansey.” - -Says he “Woman you mistake, I meant the Graces.” - -“Graces!” says I scornfully, “what do I care for their graces. Sister -Gansey had graces enough when he married her,” says I. “That is jest -the way, a man will marry a woman jest as pretty as a new blown rose, -and then when she fades herself out, till she looks more like a dead -dandyline than a livin’ creeter, cookin’ _his_ vittles, washin’ _his_ -dishes, and takin’ care of _his_ children; then he’ll go to havin’ other -girls hauntin’ him, there haint no gospel in it,” says I. - -I looked him keenly in the face all the time I spoke, for I thought he -was kinder’ upholdin’ Sister Gansey’s husband, and I wanted my words to -apaul him, but I suppose he made a mistake, and thought I was admirin’ of -him I looked so earnest at him, for he spoke up and says he, - -“I see by your stiddy glance that you have discovered who I be. Yes -Madam, you see before you the Editor of the Augur, but don’t be nervous, -don’t let it affect you more than you can help, I am a mortal like -yourself.” - -I looked at him with my most majestic look, and he continued. - -“The masses who devoured my great work ‘Logical Reveries on the Beauties -of Slavery,’ are naturally anxious to see me. I don’t wonder at it, not -at all.” - -I was austerely silent and withdrawed to a winder and set down. But he -followed me and continued on. - -“That tract as you are doubtless aware, was written just before the -war, and a weaker minded man might have been appalled by the bloodshed -that followed its publication. But no! I said calmly, it was written -on principle, and if it did bring ruin and bloodshed on the country, -principle would in the end prevail. The war turned out different from -what I hoped, chains broke that I could have wept to see break--but still -I hung on to principle. Might I ask you Madam, exactly what your emotions -were when you read ‘Logical Reveries’ for the first time? I suppose no -President’s message was ever devoured as that was.” - -“I never see nor heard of your ‘Logical Reveries,’” says I coldly. -“And thank fortune nobody can accuse me of ever touchin’ a President’s -message--unless they belie me.” - -He rolled up his eyes toward the cielin’ and sithed hevily, and then says -he, “Is it possible that in this enlightened community there is still -such ignorance amongst the masses. I have got a copy in my pocket, I -never go without one. And I will read it to you and it may be pleasant -for you to tell your children and grandchildren in the future, that the -author of “Logical Reveries on the Beauties of Slavery” told you with -his own lips, how the great work came to be written. A poem was sent -me intended as a satire on the beautiful and time hallowed system of -slavery, it was a weak senseless mass of twaddle, but if the author could -have foreseen the mighty consequences that flowed from it, he might well -have trembled, for senseless as it was it roused the lion in me, and I -replied. I divided my great work into two parts, first, that slavery -was right, because the constitution didn’t say it was wrong, and then I -viewed the subject in a Bible and moral light, but the last bein’ of less -importance, of course I didn’t enlarge on it, but on the first I come out -strong, there I shone. I will read you a little of the poem that was sent -me, that you may understand the witherin’ allusions I make concernin’ it. -I won’t read more than is necessary for that purpose, for you may get -sleepy listenin’ to it, but you will wake up enough when I begin to read -the “Logical Reveries,” I guess there couldn’t anybody sleep on them. The -poem I speak of commenced in the following weak illogical way. - - SLAVERY. - - So held my eyes I could not see - The righteousness of slavery, - So blind was I, I could not see - The ripe fruit hang on wisdom’s tree; - But groping round its roots did range, - Murmuring ever, strange, oh strange - - That one handful of dust should dare - Enslave another God had made, - From his own home and kindred tear, - And scourge, and fetter, steal and trade. - If ’twas because they were less wise - Than our wise race, why not arise, - And with pretext of buying teas, - Lay in full cargoes of Chinese. - Let Fee Fo Fum, and Eng, and Chen, - Grow wise by contact with wise men; - If weakness made the traffic right, - Why not arise in manhood’s might, - And bind old grandmothers with gyves, - And weakly children, and sick wives. - - If ’twas the dark hue of their face, - Then why not free our noble race - Forever from all homely men? - With manly zeal, and outstretched hand, - Pass like a whirlwind o’er the land. - Let squint eyed, pug-nosed women be - Only a thing of memory. - Though some mistakes would happen then, - For many bond servants there are, - Fair faced, blue eyed, with silken hair. - How sweet, how pleasant to be sold - For notes in hand, or solid gold, - To benefit a brother - Both children of one father, - With each a different mother. - One mother fair and richly clothed, - One worn with toil and vain despair - Down sunken to a life she loathed; - Both children with proud saxon blood, - In one breast mixed with tropic flame, - One, heir to rank and broad estates - And one, without even a name. - -Jest as he arrived to this crysis in the poem, Mr. Gansey came out into -the aunty room, and told me he was ready to take my picture. The Editer -seein’ he was obleeged to stop readin’ told me, he would come down to -our house a visitin’ in sugarin’ time, and finish readin’ the poetry to -me. I ketched holt of my principles to stiddy ’em, for I see they was a -totterin’ and says to him with outward calmness, - -“If you come fetch the twins.” - -He said he would. I then told Mr. Gansey I was ready for the picture. -I believe there haint nothin’ that will take the expression out of -anybody’s eyes, like havin’ poetry read for a hour and a half, unless it -is to have your head screwed back into a pair of tongs, and be told to -look at nothin’ and wink at it as much as you are a mind to. Under both -of these circumstances, it didn’t suprise me a mite that one of my eyes -was took blind. But as Mr. Gansey said as he looked admirin’ly on it, -with the exception of that one blind eye, it was a perfect and strikin’ -picture. I paid him his dollar and started off home, and I hope now that -Josiah and the children will be satisfied. - -[Illustration: THE PICTURE.] - - - - -OUR SURPRIZE PARTIES. - - -About one week after this picture eppysode, there was a surprise party -appointed. They had been havin’ ’em all winter, and the children had been -crazy to have me go to ’em--everybody went, old and young, but I held -back. Says I: “I don’t approve of ’em, and I won’t go.” - -But finally they got their father on their side; says he: “It won’t hurt -you Samantha, to go for once.” - -Says I: “Josiah, the place for old folks is to home; and I don’t believe -in surprise parties anyway, I think they are perfect nuisances. It stands -to reason if you want to see your friends, you can invite ’em, and if -anybody is too poor to bake a cake or two, and a pan of cookies, they -are too poor to go into company at all.” Says I: “I haint proud, nor -never was called so, but I don’t want Tom, Dick and Harry, that I never -spoke to in my life, feel as if they was free to break into my house at -any time they please.” Says I: “it would make me feel perfectly wild, to -think there was a whole drove of people, liable to rush in here at any -minute, and I won’t rush into other people’s housen.” - -“It would be fun, mother,” says Thomas J.; “I should love to see you and -Deecon Gowdey or old Bobbet, playin’ wink ’em slyly.” - -“Let ’em wink at me if they dare to,” says I sternly; “let me catch ’em -at it. I don’t believe in surprise parties,” and I went on in about as -cold a tone as they make. “Have you forgot how Mrs. Gowdey had her parlor -lamp smashed to bits, and a set of stun china? Have you forgot how four -or five stranger men got drunk to Peedicks’es, and had to be carried -up stairs and laid out on her spare bed? Have you forgot how Celestine -Wilkins fell with her baby in her arms, as she was catchin’ old Gowdey, -and cracked the little innocent creeter’s nose? Have you forgot how -Betsey Bobbet lost out her teeth a runnin’ after the editor of the Augur, -and he stepped on ’em and smashed ’em all to bits? Have you forgot these -coincidences?” Says I: “I don’t believe in surprise parties.” - -“No more do I,” says Josiah; “but the children feel so about our goin’, -sposen’ we go, for once! No livin’ woman could do better for children -than you have by mine, Samantha, but I don’t suppose you feel exactly as -I do about pleasin’ ’em, it haint natteral you should.” - -Here he knew he had got me. If ever a woman wanted to do her duty by -another woman’s children, it is Samantha Allen, whose maiden name was -Smith. Josiah knew jest how to start me; men are deep. I went to the very -next party, which was to be held two miles beyond Jonesville; they had -had ’em so fast, they had used up all the nearer places. They had heard -of this family, who had a big house, and the women had been to the same -meetin’ house with Betsey Bobbet two or three times, and she had met her -in a store a year before, and had been introduced to her, so she said she -felt perfectly free to go. And as she was the leader it was decided on. -They went in two big loads, but Josiah and I went in a cutter alone. - -We got started ahead of the loads, and when we got to the house we see it -was lit up real pleasant, and a little single cutter stood by the gate. -We went up to the door and knocked, and a motherly lookin’ woman with a -bunch of catnip in her hand, came to the door. - -“Good evenin’,” says I, but she seemed to be a little deaf, and didn’t -answer, and I see, as we stepped in, through a door partly open, a room -full of women. - -“Good many have got here,” says I a little louder. - -“Yes, a very good doctor,” says she. - -“What in the world!”--I begun to say in wild amaze. - -“No, it is a boy.” - -I turned right round, and laid holt of Josiah; says I, “Start this -minute, Josiah Allen, for the door.” I laid holt of him, and got him to -the door, and we never spoke another word till we was in the sleigh, and -turned round towards home; then says I, - -“Mebby you’ll hear to _me_, another time, Josiah. - -“I wish you wouldn’t be so agravatin’,” says he. - -Jest then we met the first load, where Tirzah Ann and Thomas Jefferson -was, and we told ’em to “turn round, for they couldn’t have us, they had -other company.” So they turned round. We had got most back to Jonesville, -when we met the other load; they had tipped over in the snow, and as we -drove out most to the fence to get by ’em, Josiah told ’em the same we -had the other load. - -Says Betsey Bobbet, risin’ up out of the snow with a buffalo skin on her -back, which made her look wild, - -“Did they say we _must not_ come?” - -“No, they didn’t say jest that,” says Josiah. “But they don’t want you.” - -“Wall then, my deah boys and girls,” says she, scramblin’ into the -sleigh. “Let us proceed onwards, if they did not say we _should not_ -come.” - -Her load went on, for her brother, Shakespeare Bobbet, was the driver. -How they got along I haint never enquired, and they don’t seem over free -to talk about it. But they kep’ on havin’ ’em, most every night. Betsey -Bobbet as I said was the leader, and she led ’em once into a house where -they had the small pox, and once where they was makin’ preparations for -a funeral. Somehow Tirzah and Thomas Jefferson seemed to be sick of ’em, -and as for Josiah, though he didn’t say much, I knew he felt the more. - -This coinsidense took place on Tuesday night, and the next week a Monday -I had had a awful day’s work a washin’, and we had been up all night the -night before with Josiah, who had the new ralegy in his back. We hadn’t -one of us slept a wink the night before, and Thomas Jefferson and Tirzah -Ann had gone to bed early. It had been a lowery day, and I couldn’t hang -out my calico clothes, and so many of ’em was hung round the kitchen on -lines and clothes bars, and nails, that Josiah and I looked as if we -was a settin’ in a wet calico tent. And what made it look still more -melancholy and sad, I found when I went to light the lamp, that the -kerosene was all gone, and bein’ out of candles, I made for the first -time what they call a “slut,” which is a button tied up in a rag, and put -in a saucer of lard; you set fire to the rag, and it makes a light that -is better than no light at all, jest as a slut is better than no woman at -all; I suppose in that way it derived its name. But it haint a dazzlin’ -light, nothin’ like so gay and festive as gas. - -I, beat out with work and watchin’, thought I would soak my feet before -I went to bed, and so I put some water into the mop pail, and sot by the -stove with my feet in it. The thought had come to me after I got my -night-cap on. Josiah sot behind the stove, rubbin’ some linament onto his -back; he had jest spoke to me, and says he, - -“I believe this linament makes, my back feel easier, Samantha, I hope I -shall get a little rest to-night.” - -Says I, “I hope so too, Josiah.” And jest as I said the words, without -any warning the door opened, and in come what seemed to me at the time to -be a hundred and 50 men, wimmen, and children, headed by Betsey Bobbet. - -Josiah, so wild with horror and amazement that he forgot for the time -bein’ his lameness, leaped from his chair, and tore so wildly at his -shirt that he tore two pieces right out of the red flannel, and they -shone on each shoulder of his white shirt like red stars; he then backed -up against the wall between the back door and the wood box. I rose up and -stood in the mop pail, too wild with amaze to get out of it, for the same -reason heedin’ not my night-cap. - -“We have come to suprize you,” says Betsey Bobbet, sweetly. - -I looked at ’em in speechless horror, and my tongue clove to the roof of -my mouth; no word did I speak, but I glared at ’em with looks which I -suppose filled ’em with awe and dread, for Betsey Bobbet spoke again in -plaintive accents, - -“Will you not let us suprize you?” - -Then I found voice, and “No! no!” says I wildly. “I won’t be suprized! -you sha’n’t suprize us to-night! We won’t be suprized! Speak, Josiah,” -says I, appealin’ to him in my extremity. “Speak! tell her! will we be -suprized to-night?” - -“No! no!” says he in firm, decided, warlike tones, as he stood backed up -against the wall, holdin’ his clothes on--with his red flannel epaulettes -on his shoulders like a officer, “no, we won’t be suprized!” - -“You see, deah friends,” says she to the crowd, “she will not let us -suprize her, we will go.” But she turned at the door, and says she in -reproachful accents, “May be it is right and propah to serve a old friend -and neighbah in this way--I have known you a long time, Josiah Allen’s -wife.” - -“I have known you plenty long enough,” says I, steppin’ out of the pail, -and shettin’ the door pretty hard after ’em. - -Josiah came from behind the stove pushin’ a chair in front of him, and -says he, - -“Darn suprize parties, and darn--” - -“Don’t swear, Josiah, I should think you was bad enough off without -swearin’--” - -“I _will_ darn Betsey Bobbet, Samantha. Oh, my back!” he groaned, settin’ -down slowly, “I can’t set down nor stand up.” - -“You jumped up lively enough, when they come in,” says I. - -[Illustration: THE SURPRISE PARTY.] - -“Throw that in my face, will you? What could I du? And there is a pin -stickin’ into my shoulder, do get it out, Samantha, it has been there all -the time, only I haint sensed it till now.” - -“Wall,” says I in a kinder, soothin tone, drawin’ it out of his shoulder, -where it must have hurt awfully, only he hadn’t felt it in his greater -troubles--“Less be thankful that we are as well off as we be. Betsey -might have insisted on stopin’. I will rub your shoulders with the -linament, and I guess you will feel better; do you suppose they will be -mad?” - -“I don’t know, nor I don’t care, but I hope so,” says he. - -And truly his wish come to pass, for Betsey was real mad; the rest didn’t -seem to mind it. But she was real short to me for three days. Which shows -it makes a difference with her who does the same thing, for they went -that night right from here to the Editor of the Augur’s. And it come -straight to me from Celestine Wilkins, who was there, that he turned ’em -out doors, and shet the door in their faces. - -The way it was, his hired girl had left him that very day, and one of -the twins was took sick with wind colic. He had jest got the sick baby -to sleep, and laid it in the cradle, and had gin the little well one -some playthings, and set her down on the carpet, and he was washin’ the -supper dishes, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, and a pink bib-apron -on that belonged to his late wife. They said he had jest finished, and -was wringin’ out his dishcloth, when he heard a awful screamin’ from the -well twin, and he rushed out with his dishcloth hangin’ over his arm, -and found that she had swallowed a side-thimble; he ketched her up, and -spatted her back, and the thimble flew out half way across the floor. She -screamed, and held her breath, and the sick one waked up, and sot up in -the cradle and screamed fearfully, and jest then the door bust open, and -in come the suprize party headed by Betsey Bobbet. They said that he, -half crazy as he was, told Betsey that “if she didn’t head ’em off that -minute, he would prosecute the whole of ’em.” Some of ’em was mad about -it, he acted so threat’nin’, but Betsey wasn’t, for in the next week’s -Augur these verses came out: - - IT IS SWEET TO FORGIVE. - - It is sweet to be--it is sweet to live, - But sweeteh the sweet word “forgive;” - If harsh, loud words should spoken be, - Say “Soul be calm they come from he-- - When he was wild with toil and grief, - When colic could not find relief; - Such woe and cares should have sufficed, - Then, he should not have been surprized.” - - When twins are well, and the world looks bright, - To be surprized, is sweet and right, - But when twins are sick, and the world looks sad, - To be surprized is hard and bad, - And when side thimbles swallowed be, - How can the world look sweet to he-- - Who owns the twin--faih babe, heaven bless it, - Who hath no own motheh to caress it. - - Its own motheh hath sweetly gone above, - Oh how much it needs a motheh’s love. - My own heart runs o’er with tenderness, - But its deah father tries to do his best, - But house-work, men can’t perfectly understand, - Oh! how he needs a helping hand. - Ah! when twins are sick and hired girls have flown, - It is sad for a deah man to be alone. - -[Illustration] - - - - -A DAY OF TROUBLE. - - -Sugerin’ time come pretty late this year, and I told Josiah, that I -didn’t believe I should have a better time through the whole year, to -visit his folks, and mother Smith, than I should now before we begun to -make sugar, for I knew no sooner had I got that out of the way, than it -would be time to clean house, and make soap. And then when the dairy work -come on, I knew I never should get off. So I went. But never shall I -forget the day I got back. I had been gone a week, and the childern bein’ -both off to school, Josiah got along alone. I have always said, and I say -still, that I had jest as lives have a roarin’ lion do my house-work, as -a man. Every thing that could be bottom side up in the house, was. - -I had a fortnight’s washin’ to do, the house to clean up, churnin’ to do, -and bakin’; for Josiah had eat up everything slick and clean, the buttery -shelves looked like the dessert of Sarah. Then I had a batch of maple -sugar to do off, for the trees begun to run after I went away and Josiah -had syruped off--and some preserves to make, for his folks had gin me -some pound sweets, and they was a spilein’. So it seemed as if everything -come that day, besides my common house-work--and well doth the poet -say--“That a woman never gets her work done up,” for she don’t. - -Now when a man ploughs a field, or runs up a line of figgers, or writes -a serming, or kills a beef critter, there it is done--no more to be -done over. But sposen’ a woman washes up her dishes clean as a fiddle, -no sooner does she wash ’em up once, than she has to, right over and -over agin, three times three hundred and 65 times every year. And the -same with the rest of her work, blackin’ stoves, and fillin’ lamps, and -washin’ and moppin’ floors, and the same with cookin’. Why jest the idee -of paradin’ out the table and tea-kettle 3 times 3 hundred and 65 times -every year is enough to make a woman sweat. And then to think of all the -cookin’ utensils and ingredients--why if it wuzzn’t for principle, no -woman could stand the idee, let alone the labor, for it haint so much the -mussle she has to lay out, as the strain on her mind. - -Now last Monday, no sooner did I get my hands into the suds holt of one -of Josiah’s dirty shirts, than the sugar would mount up in the kettle and -sozzle over on the top of the furnace in the summer kitchen--or else the -preserves would swell up and drizzle over the side of the pan on to the -stove--or else the puddin’ I was a bakin’ for dinner would show signs -of scorchin’, and jest as I was in the heat of the warfare, as you may -say, who should drive up but the Editor of the Agur. He was a goin’ on -further, to engage a hired girl he had hearn of, and on his way back, he -was goin’ to stop and read that poetry, and eat some maple sugar; and he -wanted to leave the twins till he come back. - -Says he, “They won’t be any trouble to you, will they?” I thought of the -martyrs, and with a appearance of outward composure, I answered him in a -sort of blind way; but I won’t deny that I had to keep a sayin’, ‘John -Rogers! John Rogers’ over to myself all the time I was ondoin’ of ’em, -or I should have said somethin’ I was sorry for afterwards. The poetry -woried me the most, I won’t deny. - -After the father drove off, the first dive the biggest twin made was -at the clock, he crep’ up to that, and broke off the pendulum, so it -haint been since, while I was a hangin’ thier cloaks in the bedroom. And -while I was a puttin’ thier little oversocks under the stove to dry, the -littlest one clim’ up and sot down in a pail of maple syrup, and while I -was a wringin’ him out, the biggest one dove under the bed, at Josiah’s -tin trunk where he keeps a lot of old papers, and come a creepin’ out, -drawin’ it after him like a hand-sled. There was a gography in it, and a -Fox’es book of martyrs, and a lot of other such light reading, and I let -the twins have ’em to recreate themselves on, and it kep’ ’em still most -a minute. - -I hadn’t much more’n got my eye off’en that Fox’es book of Martyrs--when -there appeared before ’em a still more mournful sight, it was Betsey -Bobbet come to spend the day. - -I murmured dreamily to myself “John Rogers”--But that didn’t do, I had to -say to myself with firmness--“Josiah Allen’s wife, haint you ashamed of -yourself, what are your sufferin’s to John Rogers’es? Think of the agony -of that man--think of his 9 children follerin’ him, and the one at the -breast, what are your sufferin’s compared to his’en?” Then with a brow of -calm I advanced to meet her. I see she had got over bein’ mad about the -surprise party, for she smiled on me once or twice, and as she looked at -the twins, she smiled 2 times on each of ’em, which made 4 and says she -in tender tones, - -“You deah little motherless things.” Then she tried to kiss ’em. But the -biggest one gripped her by her false hair, which was flax, and I should -think by a careless estimate, that he pulled out about enough to make -half a knot of thread. The little one didn’t do much harm, only I think -he loosened her teeth a little, he hit her pretty near the mouth, and I -thought as she arose she slipped ’em back in thier place. But she only -said, - -“Sweet! sweet little things, how ardent and impulsive they are, so like -thier deah Pa.” - -She took out her work, and says she, “I have come to spend the day. I saw -thier deah Pa bringin’ the deah little twins in heah, and I thought maybe -I could comfort the precious little motherless things some, if I should -come over heah. If there is any object upon the earth, Josiah Allen’s -wife, that appeals to a feelin’ heart, it is the sweet little children -of widowers. I cannot remember the time when I did not want to comfort -them, and thier deah Pa’s. I have always felt that it was woman’s highest -speah, her only mission to soothe, to cling, to smile, to coo. I have -always felt it, and for yeahs back it has been a growin’ on me. I feel -that you do not feel as I do in this matter, you do not feel that it is -woman’s greatest privilege, her crowning blessing, to soothe lacerations, -to be a sort of a poultice to the noble, manly breast when it is torn -with the cares of life.” - -This was too much, in the agitated frame of mind I then was. - -“Am I a poultice Betsey Bobbet, do I look like one?--am I in the -condition to be one?” I cried turnin’ my face, red and drippin’ with -prespiration towards her, and then attacked one of Josiah’s shirt sleeves -agin. “What has my sect done,” says I, as I wildly rubbed his shirt -sleeves, “That they have got to be lacerator soothers, when they have got -everything else under the sun to do?” Here I stirred down the preserves -that was a runnin’ over, and turned a pail full of syrup into the sugar -kettle. “Everybody says that men are stronger than women, and why should -they be treated as if they was glass china, liable to break all to pieces -if they haint handled careful. And if they have got to be soothed,” says -I in an agitated tone, caused by my emotions (and by pumpin’ 6 pails of -water to fill up the biler), “Why don’t they get men to sooth’em? They -have as much agin time as wimmen have; evenin’s they don’t have anything -else to do, they might jest as well be a soothin’ each other as to be a -hangin’ round grocery stores, or settin’ by the fire whittlin’.” - -I see I was frightenin’ her by my delerious tone and I continued more -mildly, as I stirred down the strugglin’ sugar with one hand--removed -a cake from the oven with the other--watched my apple preserves with a -eagle vision, and listened intently to the voice of the twins, who was -playin’ in the woodhouse. - -“I had jest as soon soothe lacerations as not, Betsey, if I hadn’t -everything else to do. I had jest as lives set down and smile at Josiah -by the hour, but who would fry him nut-cakes? I could smoothe down his -bald head affectionately, but who would do off this batch of sugar? -I could coo at him day in and day out, but who would skim milk--wash -pans--get vittles--wash and iron--and patch and scour--and darn and -fry--and make and mend--and bake and bile while I was a cooin’, tell me?” -says I. - -Betsey spoke not, but quailed, and I continued-- - -“Women haint any stronger than men, naturally; thier backs and thier -nerves haint made of any stouter timber; their hearts are jest as liable -to ache as men’s are; so with thier heads; and after doin’ a hard day’s -work when she is jest ready to drop down, a little smilin’ and cooin’ -would do a woman jest as much good as a man. Not what,” I repeated in the -firm tone of principle “Not but what I am willin’ to coo, if I only had -time.” - -A pause enshued durin’ which I bent over the wash-tub and rubbed with -all my might on Josiah’s shirt sleeve. I had got one sleeve so I could -see streaks of white in it, (Josiah is awful hard on his shirt sleeves), -and I lifted up my face and continued in still more reesonable tones, as -I took out my rice puddin’ and cleaned out the bottom of the oven, (the -pudden had run over and was a scorchin’ on), and scraped the oven bottom -with a knife, - -“Now Josiah Allen will go out into that lot,” says I, glancein’ out of -the north window “and plough right straight along, furrow after furrow, -no sweat of mind about it at all; his mind is in that free calm state -that he could write poetry.” - -“Speaking of poetry, reminds me,” said Betsey, and I see her hand go into -her pocket; I knew what was a comin’, and I went on hurriedly, wavin’ -off what I knew must be, as long as I could. “Now, I, a workin’ jest -as hard as he accordin’ to my strength, and havin’ to look 40 ways to -once, and 40 different strains on my mind, now tell me candidly, Betsey -Bobbet, which is in the best condition for cooin’, Josiah Allen or me? -but it haint expected of him,” says I in agitated tones, “I am expected -to do all the smilin’ and cooin’ there is done, though you know,” says I -sternly, “that I haint no time for it.” - -“In this poem, Josiah Allen’s wife, is embodied my views, which are -widely different from yours.” - -I see it was vain to struggle against fate, she had the poetry in her -hand. I rescued the twins from beneath a half a bushel of beans they had -pulled over onto themselves--took off my preserves which had burnt to the -pan while I was a rescuin’, and calmly listened to her, while I picked up -the beans with one hand, and held off the twins with the other. - -“There is one thing I want to ask your advice about, Josiah Allen’s -wife. This poem is for the Jonesville Augah. You know I used always to -write for the opposition papah, the Jonesville Gimlet, but as I said -the othah day, since the Editah of the Augah lost his wife I feel that -duty is a drawing of me that way. Now do you think that it would be any -more pleasing and comforting to that deah Editah to have me sign my -name Bettie Bobbet--or Betsey, as I always have?” And loosin’ herself -in thought she murmured dreamily to the twins, who was a pullin’ each -other’s hair on the floor at her feet-- - -“Sweet little mothahless things, you couldn’t tell me, could you, deahs, -how your deah Pa would feel about it?” - -Here the twins laid holt of each other so I had to part ’em, and as I did -so I said to Betsey, “If you haint a fool you will hang on to the Betsey. -You can’t find a woman nowadays that answers to her true name. I expect,” -says I in a tone of cold and almost witherin’ sarcasm, “that these old -ears will yet hear some young minister preach about Johnnie the Baptist, -and Minnie Magdalen. Hang on to the Betsey; as for the Bobbet,” says I, -lookin’ pityingly on her, “that will hang on for itself.” - -I was too well bread to interrupt her further, and I pared my potatoes, -pounded my beefsteak, and ground my coffee for dinner, and listened. This -commenced also as if she had been havin’ a account with Love, and had -come out in his debt. - - OWED TO LOVE. - - Ah, when my deah future companion’s heart with grief is rife, - With his bosom’s smart, with the cares of life, - Ah, what higher, sweeter, bliss could be, - Than to be a soothing poultice unto he? - - And if he have any companions lost--if they from earth have risen, - Ah, I could weep tears of joy--for the deah bliss of wiping away his’en; - Or if he (should happen to) have any twins, or othah blessed little ties, - Ah, _how willingly_ on the altah of duty, B. Bobbet, herself would - sacrifice. - - I would (all the rest of) life to the cold winds fling, - And live for love--and live to cling. - Fame, victuals, away! away! our food shall be, - His smile on me--my sweet smile on he. - -There was pretty near twenty verses of ’em, and as she finished she said -to me-- - -“What think you of my poem, Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -Says I, fixin’ my sharp grey eyes upon her keenly, “I have had more -experience with men than you have, Betsey;” I see a dark shadow settlin’ -on her eye-brow, and I hastened to apologise--“you haint to blame for it, -Betsey--we all know you haint to blame.” - -She grew calm, and I proceeded, “How long do you suppose you could board -a man on clear smiles, Betsey--you jest try it for a few meals and you’d -find out. I have lived with Josiah Allen 14 years, and I ought to know -somethin’ of the natur of man, which is about alike in all of ’em, and I -say, and I contend for it, that you might jest as well try to cling to -a bear as to a hungry man. After dinner, sentiment would have a chance, -and you might smile on him. But then,” says I thoughtfully, “there is the -dishes to wash.” - -Jest at that minute the Editor of the Augur stopped at the gate, and -Betsey, catchin’ up a twin on each arm, stood up to the winder, smilin’. - -He jumped out, and took a great roll of poetry out from under the buggy -seat--I sithed as I see it. But fate was better to me than I deserved. -For Josiah was jest leadin’ the horse into the horse barn, when the -Editor happened to look up and see Betsey. Josiah says he swore--says he -“the d----!” I won’t say what it was, for I belong to the meetin’ house, -but it wasn’t the Deity though it begun with a D. He jumped into the -buggy agin, and says Josiah, - -“You had better stay to dinner, my wife is gettin’ a awful good one--and -the sugar is most done.” - -Josiah says he groaned, but he only said-- - -“Fetch out the twins.” - -Says Josiah, “You had better stay to dinner--you haint got no women folks -to your house--and I know what it is to live on pancakes,” and wantin’ to -have a little fun with him, says he, “Betsey Bobbet is here.” - -Josiah says he swore agin, and agin says he, “fetch out the twins.” And -he looked so kind o’ wild and fearful towards the door, that Josiah -started off on the run. - -Betsey was determined to carry one of the twins out, but jest at the door -he tore every mite of hair off’en her head, and she, bein’ bald naturally, -dropped him. And Josiah carried ’em out, one on each arm, and he drove -off with ’em fast. Betsey wouldn’t stay to dinner all I could do and say, -she acted mad. But one sweet thought filled me with such joyful emotion -that I smiled as I thought of it--I shouldn’t have to listen to any more -poetry that day. - - - - -THE MINISTER’S BEDQUILT. - - -The Baptists in our neighborhood have been piecen’ up a bedquilt for -their minister. He has preached considerable, and held a Sunday school -to our school-house, and I wasn’t goin’ to have any bedquilts done for -him without havin’ my hand in it to help it along. I despise the idee of -folks bein’ so sot on their own meetin’ housen. Thier is enough worldly -things for neighbors to fight about, such as hens, and the school-marm, -without takin’ what little religion they have got and go to peltin’ each -other with it. - -Sposen’ Baptists do love water better’n they do dry land? What of it? -If my Baptist brethren feel any better to baptise thierselves in the -Atlantic ocian, it haint none of my business. Somehow Josiah seems to be -more sot onto his own meetin’ house than I do. Thomas Jefferson said when -we was a arguin’ about it the mornin’ of the quiltin’, says he, “The more -water the better,” says he, “it would do some of the brethren good to -put ’em asoak and let ’em lay over night.” - -I shet him up pretty quick, for I will not countenance such light -talk--but Josiah laughed, he encourages that boy in it, all I can do and -say. - -I always make a pint of goin’ to quiltin’s any way, whether I go on -Methodist principle (as in this case) or not, for you can’t be backbited -to your face, that is a moral certainty. I know women jest like a book, -for I have been one quite a spell. I always stand up for my own sect, -still I know sartin effects foller sartin causes. Such as two bricks -bein’ sot up side by side, if one tumbles over on to the other, the other -can’t stand up, it haint natur. If a toper holds a glass of liquor to his -mouth he can’t help swallowin’ it, it haint nater. If a young man goes -out slay-ridin’ with a pretty girl, and the buffalo robe slips off, he -can’t help holdin’ it round her, it haint nater. And quiltin’ jest sets -women to slanderin’ as easy and beautiful as any thing you ever see. I -was the first one there, for reasons I have named; I always go early. - -I hadn’t been there long before Mrs. Deacon Dobbins came, and then the -Widder Tubbs, and then Squire Edwards’es wife and Maggie Snow, and then -the Dagget girls. (We call ’em _girls_, though it would be jest as proper -to call mutton, lamb.) - -Miss Wilkins’ baby had the mumps, and the Peedicks and Gowdey’s had -unexpected company. But with Miss Jones where the quiltin’ was held, and -her girls Mary Ann and Alzina, we made as many as could get round the -quilt handy. - -The quilt was made of different kinds of calico; all the women round had -pieced up a block or two, and we took up a collection to get the battin’ -and linin’ and the cloth to set it together with, which was turkey red, -and come to quilt it, it looked well. We quilted it herrin’ bone, with a -runnin’ vine round the border. - -After the pathmaster was demorilized, the school-teacher tore to pieces, -the party to Peedicks scandalized, Sophronia Gowdey’s charicter broke -doun--and her mother’s new bunnet pronounced a perfect fright, and twenty -years too young for her--and Miss Wilkins’ baby voted a unquestionable -idiot, and the rest of the unrepresented neighborhood dealt with, Lucinda -Dagget spoke up and says she-- - -“I hope the minister will like the bedquilt.” (Lucinda is the one that -studies mathematics to harden her mind, and has the Roman nose.) - -“It haint no ways likely he will,” says her sister Ophelia; (she is the -one that frizzles her hair on top and wears spectacles.) “It haint no -ways likely he will--for he is a cold man, a stun statute.” - -Now you see I set my eyes by that minister, if he is of another -persuasion. He is always doin’ good to somebody, besides preachin’ more -like a angel than a human bein’. I can’t never forget--and I don’t want -to--how he took holt of my hand, and how his voice trembled and the tears -stood in his eyes, when we thought our Tirzah Ann was a dyin’--she was in -his Sunday School class. There is some lines in your life you can’t rub -out, if you try to ever so hard. And I wasn’t goin’ to set still and hear -him run down. It riled up the old Smith blood, and when that is riled, -Josiah says he always feels that it is best to take his hat and leave, -till it settles. I spoke right up and says I-- - -“Lucky for him he was made of stun before he was married, for common -flesh and blood would have gin’ out a hundred times, chaste round by the -girls as he was.” You see it was the town talk, how Ophelia Dagget acted -before he was married, and she almost went into a decline, and took heaps -of motherwort and fetty. - -“I don’t know what you mean, Miss Allen,” says she, turnin’ red as a red -brick, “I never heard of his bein’ chaste, I knew I never could bear the -sight of him.” - -“The distant sight,” says Alzina Jones. - -Ophelia looked so mad at that, that I don’t know but she would have -pricked her with her quiltin’ needle, if old Miss Dobbins hadn’t spoke -up. She is a fat old lady, with a double chin, mild and lovely as Mount -Vernon’s sister. She always agrees with everybody. Thomas Jefferson -calls her “Woolen Apron” for he says he heard her one day say to Miss -Gowdy--“I don’t like woolen aprons, do you Miss Gowdy?” - -“Why yes, Miss Dobbin, I do.” - -“Well so do I,” says she. But good old soul, if we was all such peace -makers as she is, we should be pretty sure of Heaven. Though Thomas -Jefferson says, “if Satan should ask her to go to his house, she would -go, rather than hurt his feelin’s.” That boy worrys me, I don’t know what -he is a comin’ to. - -As I said, she looked up mildly over her spectacles, and nodded her -purple cap ribbons two or three times, and said “yes,” “jest so,” to both -of us. And then to change the subject says she; - -“Has the minister’s wife got home yet?” - -“I think not,” says Maggie Snow. “I was to the village yesterday, and she -hadn’t come then.” - -“I suppose her mother is well off,” says the Widder Tubbs, “and as long -as she stays there, she saves the minister five dollars a week, I should -think she would stay all summer.” The widder is about as equinomical a -woman as belongs to his meetin’ house. - -“It don’t look well for her to be gone so long,” says Lucinda Dagget, “I -am very much afraid it will make talk.” - -“Mebby it will save the minister five dollars a week,” says Ophelia, “as -extravagant as she is in dress, as many as four silk dresses she has got, -and there’s Baptist folks as good as she is that hain’t got but one--and -one certain Baptist person _full_ as good as she is that hain’t got any.” -(Ophelia’s best dress is poplin.) “It won’t take her long to run out the -minister’s salary.” - -“She had her silk dresses before she was married, and her folks were -wealthy,” says Mrs. Squire Edwards. - -“As much as we have done for them, and are still doing,” says Lucinda, -“it seems ungrateful in her to wear such a bunnet as she wore last -summer, a plain white straw, with a little bit of ribbon onto it, not a -flower nor a feather, it looked so scrimped and stingy, I have thought -she wore it on purpose to mortify us before the Methodists. Jest as if we -couldn’t afford to dress our minister’s wife as well as they did theirs.” - -Maggie Snow’s cheeks was a getting as red as fire, and her eyes began to -shine, jest as they did that day she found some boys stonein’ her kitten. -She and the minister’s wife are the greatest friends that ever was. And I -see she couldn’t hold in much longer. She was jest openin’ her mouth to -speak, when the door opened and in walked Betsey Bobbet. - -“My! it seems to me you are late, Betsey, but walk right into the spare -bedroom, and take off your things.” - -“Things!” says Betsey, in a reckless tone, “who cares for things!” And -she dropped into the nearest rocking chair and commenced to rock herself -violently and says she “would that I had died when I was a infant babe.” - -“Amen!” whispered Alzina Jones, to Maggie Snow. - -Betsey didn’t hear her, and again she groaned out, “Would that I had been -laid in yondeh church yard, before my eyes had got open to depravity and -wickedness.” - -“Do tell us what is the matter Betsey,” says Miss Jones. - -“Yes do,” says Miss Deacon Dobbins. - -“Matter enuff,” says she, “No wondeh there is earthquakes and jars. I -heard the news jest as I came out of our gate, and it made me weak as -a cat, I had to stop to every house on the way doun heah, to rest, and -not a soul had heard of it, till I told ’em. Such a shock as it gave me, -I shant get over it for a week, but it is just as I always told you, I -always said the minister’s wife wasn’t any _too_ good. It didn’t surprise -me not a bit.” - -“You can’t tell me one word against Mary Morton that I’ll believe,” says -Maggie Snow. - -“You will admit that the minister went North last Tuesday, won’t you.” - -Seven wimmin spoke up at once and said: “Yes, his mother was took sick, -and telegraphed for him.” - -“So he said,” said Betsey Bobbet, “so he said, but I believe it is for -good.” - -“Oh dear,” shrieked Ophelia Dagget, “I shall faint away, ketch hold of -me, somebody.” - -“Ketch hold of yourself,” says I coolly, and then says I to Betsey, “I -don’t believe he has run away no more than I believe that I am the next -President of the United States.” - -“Well, if he is not, he will wish he had, his wife come home this morning -on the cars.” - -Four wimmens said “Did she,” two said, “Do tell,” and three opened their -mouths and looked at her speechless. Amongst these last was Miss Deacon -Dobbins. But I spoke out in a collected manner, “What of it?” - -Says she, “I believe the poor, deah man mistrusted it all out and run -away from trouble and disgrace brought upon him by that female, his wife.” - -“How dare you speak the word disgrace in connection with Mary Morton?” -says Maggie Snow. - -“How dare I?” says Betsey. “Ask Thomas Jefferson Allen, as it happened, I -got it from his own mouth, it did not come through two or three.” - -“Got what?” says I, and I continued in pretty cold tones, “If you can -speak the English language, Betsey Bobbet, and have got sense enough to -tell a straight story, tell it and be done with it,” says I. “Thomas -Jefferson has been to Jonesville ever sense mornin’.” - -[Illustration: THE QUILTIN’ PARTY] - -“Yes,” says she, “and he was coming home, jest as I started for heah, and -he stopped by our gate, and says he, ‘Betsey, I have got something to -tell you. I want to tell it to somebody that can keep it, it ought to be -kept,’ says he; and then he went on and told; says he,--‘The minister’s -wife has got home, and she didn’t come alone neither.’ - -“Says I, what do you mean? He looked as mysterious as a white ghost, and -says he, ‘I mean what I say.’ Says he, ‘I was in the men’s room at the -depot this morning, and I heard the minister’s wife in the next room -talking to some body she called Hugh, you know her husband’s name is -Charles. I heard her tell this Hugh that she loved him, loved him better -than the whole world;’ and then he made me promise not to tell, but he -said he heerd not only one kiss, but fourteen or fifteen. - -“Now,” says Betsey, “what do you think of that female?” - -“Good Heavens!” cried Ophelia Dagget, “am I deceived? is this a -phantagory of the brain? have I got ears? have I got ears?” says she -wildly, glaring at me. - -“You can feel and see,” says I pretty short. - -“Will he live with the wretched creature?” continued Ophelia, “no he will -get a divorcement from her, such a tender hearted man too, as he is, -if ever a man wanted a comforter in a tryin’ time, he is the man, and -to-morrow I will go and comfort him.” - -“Methinks you will find him first,” says Betsey Bobbet. “And after he is -found, methinks there is a certain person he would be as glad to see as -he would another certain person.” - -“There is some mistake,” says Maggie Snow. “Thomas Jefferson is always -joking,” and her face blushed up kinder red as she spoke about Thomas J. - -I don’t make no matches, nor break none, but I watch things pretty keen, -if I don’t say much. - -“It was a male man,” says Lucinda Dagget, “else why did she call him -Hugh? You have all heerd Elder Morton say that his wife hadn’t a relative -on earth, except a mother and a maiden aunt. It couldn’t have been her -mother, and it couldn’t have been the maiden aunt, for her name was -Martha instead of Hugh; besides,” she continued, (she had so hardened her -mind with mathematics that she could grapple the hardest fact, and floor -it, so to speak,) “besides, the maiden aunt died six months ago, that -settles the matter conclusively, it was not the maiden aunt.” - -“I have thought something was on the Elders’ mind, for quite a spell, I -have spoke to sister Gowdy about it a number of times,” then she kinder -rolled up her eyes just as she does in conference meetin’s, and says she, -“it is an awful dispensation, but I hope he’ll turn it into a means of -grace, I hope his spiritual strength will be renewed, but I have borryed -a good deal of trouble about his bein’ so handsome, I have noticed -handsome ministers don’t turn out well, they most always have somethin’ -happen to ’em, sooner or later, but I hope he’ll be led.” - -“I never thought that Miss Morton was any too good.” - -“Neither did I,” said Lucinda Dagget. - -“She has turned out jest as I always thought she would,” says Ophelia, -“and I think jest as much of her, as I do of them that stand up for her.” -Maggie Snow spoke up then, jest as clear as a bell her voice sounded. She -hain’t afraid of anybody, for she is Lawyer Snow’s only child, and has -been to Boston to school. Says she “Aunt Allen,” she is a little related -to me on her mother’s side. “Aunt Allen, why is it as a general rule, the -worst folks are the ones to suspect other people of bein’ bad.” - -Says I, “Maggy, they draw their pictures from memery, they think, ‘now if -_I_ had that opportunity to do wrong, I should certainly improve it--and -so of course _they_ did.’ And they want to pull down other folks’es -reputations, for they feel as if their own goodness is in a totterin’ -condition, and if it falls, they want somethin’ for it to fall on, so as -to come down easier like.” - -Maggy Snow laughed, and so did Squire Edwards’ wife, and the -Jones’es--but Betsey Bobbet, and the Dagget girls looked black as -Erobius. And says Betsey Bobbet to me, “I shouldn’t think, Josiah -Allen’s wife, that _you_ would countenance such conduct.” - -“I will first know that there is wrong conduct,” says I--“Miss Morton’s -face is just as innocent as a baby’s, and I hain’t a goin’ to mistrust -any evil out of them pretty brown eyes, till I am obleeged to.” - -“Well, you will have to believe it,” says Ophelia Dagget--“and there -shall be somethin’ done about it as sure as my name is Ophelia Dagget.” - -“Let him that is without sin amongst you cast the first stone,” says Miss -Squire Edwards--a better Baptist women never lived than she is. - -“Yes,” says I in almost piercen’ tones, “which of us is good enough to go -into the stun business? Even supposin’ it was true, which I never will -believe on earth, which of us could stun her on gospel grounds?--who will -you find that is free from all kind of sin?” and as I spoke, remorseful -thoughts almost knocked against my heart, how I had scolded Josiah the -night before for goin’ in his stockin feet. - -“I never see a female women yet that I thought was perfect, and yet how -willin’ they are to go to handlin’ these stuns--why wimmen fling enough -stuns at each other every day, to make a stun wall that would reach from -pole to pole.” - -Just at this minute the hired girl come in, and said supper was on the -table, and we all went out to eat it. Miss Jones said there wasn’t -anything on the table fit to eat, and she was afraid we couldn’t make -out--but it was a splendid supper, fit for the Zaar of Rushy. - -We hadn’t more’n got up from the supper table, and got back into the -parlor, when we heard a knock onto the front door, and Miss Jones went -and opened it, and who of all the live world should walk in but the -minister! The faces of the wimmen as he entered would have been a study -for Michael Angelico, or any of them old painters. Miss Jones was that -flustrated that she asked him the first thing to take his bunnet off, and -then she bethought herself, and says she, ‘How’s your Ma?’ before she had -sat him a chair or anything. But he looked as pleasant and composed as -ever, though his eyes kinder laughed. And he thanked her and told her he -left his mother the day before a good deal better, and then he turned to -Maggy Snow, and says he, - -“I have come after you Miss Maggy, my wife come home this mornin’ and was -so anxious to see you that I told her as I had business past your house -this afternoon, I would call for you as I went home, and your mother told -me you were here. I think I know why she wants to see you so very much -now. She is so proud of our boy, she can’t wait till----” - -“Your boy,” gasped nine wimmen to once. - -“Yes,” says he smilin’ more pleasant than I ever seen him. “I know you -will wish me joy, we have a nice little boy, little Hugh, for my wife -has named him already for her father, he is a fine healthy little fellow -almost two months old.” - -It wouldn’t have done no good for Michael Angelico or Mr. Ruben, to have -been there then, nor none of the rest of them we read about, for if they -had their palates’es and easels’es all ready, they never could have done -justice to the faces of the Dagget girls, and Betsey Bobbet. And as for -Miss Deacon Dobbins, her spectacles fell off unnoticed and she opened -her mouth so wide, it was very doubtful to me if she could ever shut it -again. Maggy Snow’s face shone like a Cherubim, and as for me, I can -truly say I was happy enough to sing the Te Deus. - -[Illustration] - - - - -A ALLEGORY ON WIMMEN’S RIGHTS. - - -About a couple of weeks after the quiltin’, Thomas Jefferson said to -Josiah, one Saturday mornin’, - -“Father, can I have the old mare to go to Jonesville to-night?” - -“What do you want to go to Jonesville for?” said his father, “you come -from there last night.” - -“There is goin’ to be a lecture on wimmin’s rights; can I have her, -father?” - -“I s’pose so,” says Josiah, kinder short, and after Thomas J. went out, -Josiah went on-- - -“Wimmin’s rights, wimmin’s rights, I wonder how many more fools are goin’ -a caperin’ round the country preachin’ ’em up--I am sick of wimmin’s -rights, I don’t believe in ’em.” - -This riled up the old Smith blood, and says I to him with a glance that -went clear through to the back side of his head-- - -“I know you don’t, Josiah Allen--I can tell a man that is for wimmin’s -rights as fur as I can see ’em. There is a free, easy swing to thier -walk--a noble look to thier faces--thier big hearts and soles love -liberty and justice, and bein’ free themselves they want everybody else -to be free. These men haint jealous of a woman’s influence--haint afraid -that she won’t pay him proper respect if she haint obleeged to--and they -needn’t be afraid, for these are the very men that wimmin look up to, and -worship,--and always will. A good, noble, true man is the best job old -natur ever turned off her hands, or ever will--a man, that would wipe off -a baby’s tears as soft as a woman could, or ‘die with his face to the -foe.’ - -“They are most always big, noble-sized men, too,” says I, with another -look at Josiah that pierced him like a arrow; (Josiah don’t weigh quite -one hundred by the steelyards.) - -“I don’t know as I am to blame, Samantha, for not bein’ a very hefty man.” - -“You can let your sole grow, Josiah Allen, by thinkin’ big, noble-sized -thoughts, and I believe if you did, you would weigh more by the -steelyards.” - -“Wall, I don’t care, Samantha, I stick to it, that I am sick of wimmin’s -rights; if wimmin would take care of the rights they have got now, they -would do better than they do do.” - -Now I love to see folks use reason if they have got any--and I won’t -stand no importations cast on to my sect--and so I says to him in a tone -of cold and almost freezin’ dignity-- - -“What do you mean, Josiah?” - -“I mean that women hain’t no business a votin’; they had better let -the laws alone, and tend to thier house-work. The law loves wimmin and -protects ’em.” - -“If the law loves wimmin so well, why don’t he give her as much wages -as men get for doin’ the same work? Why don’t he give her half as much, -Josiah Allen?” - -Josiah waved off my question, seemin’ly not noticin’ of it--and continued -with the doggy obstinacy of his sect-- - -“Wimmin haint no business with the laws of the country.” - -“If they haint no business with the law, the law haint no business with -them,” says I warmly. “Of the three classes that haint no business with -the law--lunatics, idiots, and wimmin--the lunatics and idiots have the -best time of it,” says I, with a great rush of ideas into my brain that -almost lifted up the border of my head-dress. “Let a idiot kill a man; -‘What of it?’ says the law; let a luny steal a sheep; again the law -murmurs in a calm and gentle tone, ‘What of it? they haint no business -with the law and the law haint no business with them.’ But let one of -the third class, let a woman steal a sheep, does the law soothe her in -these comfortin’ tones? No, it thunders to her, in awful accents, ‘You -haint no business with the law, but the law has a good deal of business -with you, vile female, start for State’s prisen; you haint nothin’ at all -to do with the law, only to pay all the taxes it tells you to--embrace a -license bill that is ruinin’ your husband--give up your innocent little -children to a wicked father if it tells you to--and a few other little -things, such as bein’ dragged off to prison by it--chained up for life, -and hung, and et cetery.’” - -Josiah sot motionless--and in a rapped eloquence I went on in the -allegory way. - -“‘Methought I once heard the words,’ sighs the female, ‘True government -consists in the consent of the governed;’ did I dream them, or did the -voice of a luny pour them into my ear?’ - -“‘Haint I told you,’ frouns the law on her, ‘that that don’t mean -wimmin--have I got to explain to your weakened female comprehension -again, the great fundymental truth, that wimmin haint included and -mingled in the law books and statutes of the country only in a condemnin’ -and punishin’ sense, as it were. Though I feel it to be bendin’ down my -powerful manly dignity to elucidate the subject further, I will consent -to remind you of the consolin’ fact, that though you wimmin are, from -the tender softness of your natures, and the illogical weakness of -your minds, unfit from ever havin’ any voice in makin’ the laws that -govern you; you have the right, and nobody can ever deprive you of it, -to be punished in a future world jest as hard as a man of the strongest -intellect, and to be hung in this world jest as dead as a dead man; and -what more can you ask for, you unreasonable female woman you?’ - -“Then groans the woman as the great fundymental truth rushes upon her-- - -“‘I can be hung by the political rope, but I can’t help twist it.’ - -“‘Jest so,’ says the law, ‘that rope takes noble and manly fingers, and -fingers of principle to twist it, and not the weak unprincipled grasp of -lunatics, idiots, and wimmin.’ - -“‘Alas!’ sithes the woman to herself, ‘would that I had the sweet rights -of my wild and foolish companions, the idiots and lunys. But,’ says she, -venturing with a beating heart, the timid and bashful inquiry, ‘are the -laws always just, that I should obey them thus implicitly? There is old -Creshus, he stole two millions, and the law cleared him triumphantly. -Several men have killed various other men, and the law insistin’ they -was out of their heads, (had got out of ’em for the occasion, and got -into ’em agin the minute they was cleared,) let ’em off with sound necks. -And I, a poor woman, have only stole a sheep, a small-sized sheep too, -that my offspring might not perish with hunger--is it right to liberate -in a triumphin’ way the two million stealer and the man murderer, and -inkarcerate the poor sheep stealer? and my children was _so_ hungry, and -it was such a small sheep,’ says the woman in pleadin’ accents. - -“‘Idiots! lunatics! and wimmin! are they goin’ to speak?’ thunders the -law. ‘Can I believe my noble right ear? can I bein’ blindfolded trust -my seventeen senses? I’ll have you understand that it haint no woman’s -business whether the laws are just or unjust, all you have got to do is -jest to obey ’em, so start off for prison, my young woman.’ - -“‘But my house-work,’ pleads the woman; ‘woman’s place is home: it is her -duty to remain at all hazards within its holy and protectin’ precincts; -how can I leave its sacred retirement to moulder in State’s prison?’ - -“‘House-work!’ and the law fairly yells the words, he is so filled with -contempt at the idee. ‘House-work! jest as if house-work is goin’ to -stand in the way of the noble administration of the law. I admit the -recklessness and immorality of her leavin’ that holy haven, long enough -to vote--but I guess she can leave her house-work long enough to be -condemned, and hung, and so forth.’ - -“‘But I have got a infant,’ says the woman, ‘of tender days, how can I -go?’ - -“‘That is nothing to the case,’ says the law in stern tones. ‘The -peculiar conditions of motherhood only unfits a female woman from ridin’ -to town with her husband, in a covered carriage, once a year, and layin’ -her vote on a pole. I’ll have you understand it is no hindrance to her at -all in a cold and naked cell, or in a public court room crowded with men.’ - -“‘But the indelikacy, the outrage to my womanly nature?’ says the woman. - -“‘Not another word out of your head, young woman,’ says the law, ‘or I’ll -fine you for contempt. I guess the law knows what is indelikacy, and what -haint; where modesty comes in, and where it don’t; now start for prison -bareheaded, for I levy on your bunnet for contempt of me.’ - -“As the young woman totters along to prison, is it any wonder that she -sithes to herself, but in a low tone, that the law might not hear her, -and deprive her also of her shoes for her contemptas thoughts-- - -“‘Would that I were a idiot; alas! is it not possible that I may become -even now a luny?--then I should be respected.’” - -As I finished my allegory and looked down from the side of the house, -where my eyes had been fastened in the rapped eloquence of thought, I see -Josiah with a contented countenance, readin’ the almanac, and I said to -him in a voice before which he quailed-- - -“Josiah Allen, you haint heard a word I’ve said, you know you haint.” - -“Yes I have,” says he, shettin’ up the almanac; “I heard you say wimmin -ought to vote, and I say she hadn’t. I shall always say that she is too -fraguile, too delikate, it would be too hard for her to go to the pole.” - -“There is one pole you are willin’ enough I should go to, Josiah Allen,” -and I stopped allegorin’, and spoke with witherin’ dignity and self -respect--“and that is the hop pole.” (Josiah has sot out a new hop yard, -and he proudly brags to the neighbors that I am the fastest picker in the -yard.) “You are willin’ enough I should handle them poles!” He looked -smit and conscience struck, but still true to the inherient principles of -his sect, and thier doggy obstinacy, he murmured-- - -“If wimmin know when they are well off, they will let poles and ’lection -boxes alone, it is too wearin for the fair sect.” - -“Josiah Allen,” says I, “you think that for a woman to stand up straight -on her feet, under a blazin’ sun, and lift both her arms above her head, -and pick seven bushels of hops, mingled with worms and spiders, into a -gigantic box, day in, and day out, is awful healthy, so strengthenin’ and -stimulatin’ to wimmin, but when it comes to droppin’ a little slip of -clean paper into a small seven by nine box, once a year in a shady room, -you are afraid it is goin’ to break down a woman’s constitution to once.” - -He was speechless, and clung to Ayer’s almanac mechanically (as it were) -and I continued-- - -“There is another pole you are willin’ enough for me to handle, and that -is our cistern pole. If you should spend some of the breath you waste--in -pityin’ the poor wimmin that have got to vote--in byin’ a pump, you would -raise 25 cents in my estimation, Josiah Allen. You have let me pull on -that old cistern pole thirteen years, and get a ten quart pail of water -on to the end of it, and I guess the political pole wouldn’t draw much -harder than that does.” - -“I guess I will get one, Samantha, when I sell the old critter. I have -been a calculatin’ to every year, but things will kinder run along.” - -“I am aware of that,” says I in a tone of dignity cold as a lump of cold -ice. “I am aware of that. You may go into any neighborhood you please, -and if there is a family in it, where the wife has to set up leeches, -make soap, cut her own kindlin’ wood, build fires in winter, set up -stove-pipes, dround kittens, hang out clothes lines, cord beds, cut up -pork, skin calves, and hatchel flax with a baby lashed to her side--I -haint afraid to bet you a ten cent bill, that that woman’s husband thinks -that wimmin are too feeble and delicate to go the pole.” - -Josiah was speechless for pretty near half a minute, and when he did -speak it was words calculated to draw my attention from contemplatin’ -that side of the subject. It was for reasons, I have too much respect for -my husband to even hint at--odious to him, as odious could be--he wanted -me to forget it, and in the gentle and sheepish manner men can so readily -assume when they are talkin’ to females he said, as he gently fingered -Ayer’s almanac, and looked pensively at the dyin’ female revivin’ at a -view of the bottle-- - -“We men think too much of you wimmin to want you to lose your sweet, -dignified, retirin’ modesty that is your chieftest charm. How long would -dignity and modesty stand firm before the wild Urena of public life? You -are made to be happy wives, to be guarded by the stronger sect, from the -cold blast and the torrid zone. To have a fence built around you by manly -strength, to keep out the cares and troubles of life. Why, if I was one -of the fair sect, I would have a husband to fence me in, if I had to hire -one.” - -He meant this last, about hirin’ a husband, as a joke, for he smiled -feebly as he said it, and in other and happier times stern duty would -have compelled me to laugh at it--but not now, oh no, my breast was -heavin’ with too many different sized emotions. - -“You would hire one, would you? a woman don’t lose her dignity and -modesty a racin’ round tryin’ to get married, does she? Oh no,” says I, -as sarcastic as sarcastic could be, and then I added sternly, “If it -ever does come in fashion to hire husbands by the year, I know of one -that could be rented cheap, if his wife had the proceeds and avails in a -pecuniary sense.” - -He looked almost mortified, but still he murmur’d as if mechanically. -“It is wimmen’s place to marry and not to vote.” - -“Josiah Allen,” says I, “Anybody would think to hear you talk that a -woman couldn’t do but just one of the two things any way--marry or vote, -and had got to take her choice of the two at the pint of the bayonet. -And anybody would think to hear you go on, that if a women could live in -any other way, she wouldn’t be married, and you couldn’t get her to.” -Says I, looking at him shrewdly, “if marryin’ is such a dreadful nice -thing for wimmen I don’t see what you are afraid of. You men act kinder -guilty about it, and I don’t wonder at it, for take a bad husband, and -thier haint no kind of slavery to be compared to wife slavery. It is jest -as natural for a mean, cowardly man to want to abuse and tyranize over -them that they can, them that are dependent on ’em, as for a noble and -generous man to want to protect them that are weak and in their power. -Figurin’ accordin’ to the closest rule of arithmetic, there are at least -one-third mean, dissopated, drunken men in the world, and they most all -have wives, and let them tread on these wives ever so hard, if they -only tread accordin’ to law, she can’t escape. And suppose she tries to -escape, blood-hounds haint half so bitter as public opinion on a women -that parts with her husband, chains and handcuffs haint to be compared -to her pride, and her love for her children, and so she keeps still, and -suffers agony enough to make four first class martyrs. Field slaves -have a few hours for rest at night, and a hope, to kinder boy them up, -of gettin’ a better master. But the wife slave has no hope of a change -of masters, and let him be ever so degraded and brutal is at his mercy -day and night. Men seem to be awful afraid that wimmen won’t be so fierce -for marryin’ anybody, for a home and a support, if they can support -themselves independent, and be jest as respectable in the eyes of the -world. But,” says I, - -“In them days when men and wimmen are both independent--free and equal, -they will marry in the only true way--from love and not from necessity. -They will marry because God will join their two hearts and hands so you -can’t get ’em apart no how. But to hear you talk Josiah Allen, anybody -would think that there wouldn’t another woman marry on earth, if they -could get rid of it, and support themselves without it.” And then I -added, fixin’ my keen grey eyes upon his’en. “You act guilty about it -Josiah Allen. But,” says I, “just so long as the sun shines down upon -the earth and the earth answers back to it, blowin’ all out full of -beauty--Jest so long as the moon looks down lovin’ly upon old ocien -makin’ her heart beat the faster, jest so long will the hearts and souls -God made for each other, answer to each other’s call. God’s laws can’t be -repealed, Josiah Allen, they wasn’t made in Washington, D. C.” - -I hardly ever see a man quail more than he did, and to tell the truth, I -guess I never had been quite so eloquent in all the 14 years we had lived -together--I felt so eloquent that I couldn’t stop myself and I went on. - -“When did you ever see a couple that hated each other, or didn’t care -for each other, but what their children, was either jest as mean as -pusley--or else wilted and unhappy lookin’ like a potato sprout in a dark -suller? What that potato sprout wants is sunshine, Josiah Allen. What -them children wants is love. The fact is love is what makes a home--I -don’t care whether its walls are white, stone, marble or bass wood. If -there haint a face to the winder a waitin’ for you, when you have been -off to the store, what good does all your things do you, though you have -traded off ten pounds of butter? A lot of folks may get together in a big -splendid house, and be called by the same name, and eat and sleep under -the same roof till they die, and call it home, but if love don’t board -with ’em, give me an umbrella and a stump. But the children of these -marriages that I speak of, when they see such perfect harmony of mind and -heart in their father and mother, when they have been brought up in such -a warm, bright, happy home--they can’t no more help growin’ up sweet, and -noble, and happy, than your wheat can help growin’ up straight and green -when the warm rain and the sunshine falls on it. These children, Josiah -Allen, are the future men and wimmens who are goin’ to put their shoulder -blades to the wheel and roll this world straight into millenium.” Says -Josiah, - -“Wimmen are too good to vote with us men, wimmen haint much more nor less -than angels any way.” - -When you have been soarin’ in eloquence, it is always hard to be brought -down sudden--it hurts you to light--and this speech sickened me, and says -I, in a tone so cold that he shivered imperceptibly. - -“Josiah Allen, there is one angel that would be glad to have a little -wood got for her to get dinner with, there is one angel that cut every -stick of wood she burnt yesterday, that same angel doin’ a big washin’ at -the same time,” and says I, repeatin’ the words, as I glanced at the beef -over the cold and chilly stove, “I should like a handful of wood Josiah -Allen.” - -“I would get you some this minute Samantha,” says he gettin’ up and -takin’ down his plantin’ bag, “but you know jest how hurried I be with my -spring’s work, can’t you pick up a little for this forenoon? you haint -got much to do have you?” - -“Oh no!” says I in a lofty tone of irony, “Nothin’ at all, only a big -ironin’, ten pies and six loves of bread to bake, a cheese curd to run -up, 3 hens to scald, churnin’ and moppin’ and dinner to get. Jest a easy -mornin’s work for a angel.” - -“Wall then, I guess you’ll get along, and to-morrow I’ll try to get you -some.” - -I said no more, but with lofty emotions surgin’ in my breast, I took my -axe and started for the wood-pile. - - - - -A AXIDENT. - - -I have been sick enough with a axident. Josiah had got his plantin’ all -done, and the garden seeds was comin’ up nice as a pin, I will have -a good garden. But the hens bothered me most to death, and kep’ me a -chasin’ out after ’em all the time. No sooner would I get ’em off the -peas, then they would be on the mush mellons, and then the cowcumbers -would take it and then the string beans, and there I was rushin’ out -doors bareheaded all times of day. It was worse for me than all my house -work, and so I told Josiah. - -One day I went out full sail after ’em, and I fell kerslap over a rail -that lay in the grass, and turned my ancle jint, and I was laid up bed -sick for two weeks. It makes me out of patience to think of it, for we -might have a dog that is worth somethin’ if it wasn’t for Josiah, but as -it is, if he haint to the house I have to do all the chasin’ there is -done, for I might as well get the door step started on to the cattle, or -hens, as to get our dog off of it, to go on to any thing. - -And he is big as a young eliphant too, eats as much as a cow, and of all -the lazy critters I ever did see, he is the cap sheaf. Why, when Josiah -sets him on to the hens, he has to take him by the collar and kinder -draws him along, all the way. And as for cows and calves, he seems to be -afraid of ’em, somethin’ kinder constitutionel Josiah says. I tell him he -might better bark ’em off himself, especially as he is a first rate hand -at it, you can’t tell him from a dog when he sets out. - -One mornin’ I says to him, “Josiah Allen, what’s the use of your keepin’ -that pup?” - -Says he “Samantha, he is a good feller, if I will kinder run ahead of -him, and keep between him and the cows, he will go on to them first rate, -he seems to want encouragement.” - -“Encouragement!” says I, “I should think as much.” - -I didn’t say no more, and that very day the axident happened. Josiah -heard me holler, and he come runnin’ from the barn--and a scairter man I -never see. He took me right up, and was carryin’ of me in. I was in awful -agony--and the first words I remember sayin’ was these, in a faint voice. - -“I wonder if you’ll keep that pup now?” - -Says he firmly, yet with pity, and with pale and anxious face. - -“Mebby you didn’t encourage him enough.” - -Says I deliriously, “Did you expect I was goin’ to carry him in my arms -and throw him at the hens? I tried every other way.” - -[Illustration: THE AXIDENT.] - -“Wall, wall!” says he, kinder soothin’ly, “Do keep still, how do you -expect I’m goin’ to carry you if you touse round so.” - -He laid me down on the lounge in the settin’ room, and I never got off -of it, for two weeks. Fever set in--I had been kinder unwell for quite -a spell, but I wouldn’t give up. I would keep ’round to work. But this -axident seemed to be the last hump on the camel’s back, I had to give in, -and Tirzah Ann had to come home from school to do the work. - -When the news got out that I was sick, lots of folks came to see me. And -every one wanted me to take some different kinds of patented medicine, -or herb drink--why my stomach would have been drounded out, a perfect -wreck--if I had took half. And then every one would name my desease some -new name. Why I told Josiah at the end of the week, that accordin’ to -their tell, I had got every desease under the sun, unless it was the -horse distemper. - -One mornin’ Miss Gowdey came in, and asked me in a melancholy way, if I -had ever had the kind pox. I told her I had. - -“Well,” says she, “I mistrust you have got the very oh Lord.” - -It was a Saturday mornin’ and Thomas Jefferson was to home, and he spoke -up and said “that was a good desease, and he hoped it would prevail; he -knew quite a number that he thought it would do ’em good to have it.” - -She looked real shocked, but knew it was some of Thomas J.’s fun. There -was one woman that would come in, in a calm, quiet way about 2 times a -week, and say in a mild, collected tone, - -“You have got the tizick.” - -Says I, “the pain is in my foot mostly.” - -“I can’t help that,” says she gently, but firmly, “There is tizick with -it. And I think that is what ailed Josiah when he was sick.” - -“Why,” says I, “that was the newraligy, the doctors said.” - -“Doctors are liable to mistakes,” says she in the same firm but modest -accents, “I have always thought it was the tizick. There are more folks -that are tiziky than you think for, in this world. I am a master hand -for knowin’ it when I see it.” She would then in an affectionate manner -advise me to doctor for the tizick, and then she would gently depart. - -There are 2 kinds of wimmen that go to see the sick. There’s them low -voiced, still footed wimmen, that walks right in, and lays their hands on -your hot foreheads so soothin’ like, that the pain gets ashamed of itself -and sneaks off. I call ’em God’s angels. Spozen they haint got wings, I -don’t care, I contend for it they are servin’ the Lord jest as much as if -they was a standin’ up in a row, all feathered out, with a palm tree in -one hand and a harp in the other. - -So I told old Gowdey one cold winter day--(he is awful stingy, he has got -a big wood lot--yet lets lots of poor families most freeze round him, in -the winter time. He will pray for ’em by the hour, but it don’t seem to -warm ’em up much)--he says to me, - -“Oh! if I was only a angel! if I only had holt of the palm tree up yonder -that is waitin’ for me.” - -Says I, coolly, “if it is used right, I think good body maple goes a good -ways toward makin’ a angel.” - -As I say, I have had these angels in my room--some kinder slimmish ones, -some, that would go nigh on to 2 hundred by the stellyards, I don’t care -if they went 3 hundred quick, I should call ’em angels jest the same. - -Then there is them wimmen that go to have a good time of it, they get -kinder sick of stayin’ to home, and nothin’ happenin’. And so they take -thier work, and flock in to visit the afflicted. I should think I had -pretty near 25 a day of ’em, and each one started 25 different subjects. -Wild, crazy subjects, most of ’em, such as fires, runaway matches, and -whirlwinds; earthquakes, neighberhood fightin’, and butter that wouldn’t -come; great tidal waves, railroad axidents, balky horses, and overskirts; -man slaughter, politix, schism, and frizzled hair. - -I believe it would have drawed more sweat from a able bodied man to have -laid still and heard it, than to mow a five acre lot in dog days. And -there my head was takin’ on, and achin’ as if it would come off all the -time. - -If I could have had one thing at a time, I could have stood it better. -I shouldn’t have minded a earthquake so much, if I could have give my -full attention to it, but I must have conflegrations at the same time on -my mind, and hens that wouldn’t set, and drunken men, and crazy wimmin, -and jumpin’ sheep, and female suffragin’ and calico cut biasin’, and the -Rushen war, and politix. It did seem some of the time, that my head must -split open, and I guess the doctor got scairt about me, for one mornin’ -after he went away, Josiah came into the room, and I see that he looked -awful sober and gloomy, but the minute he ketched my eye, he began to -snicker and laugh. I didn’t say nothin’ at first, and shet my eyes, but -when I opened ’em agin, there he was a standin’ lookin’ down on me with -the same mournful, agonized expression onto his features; not a word did -he speak, but when he see me a lookin’ at him, he bust out laughin’ agin, -and then says I-- - -“What is the matter, Josiah Allen?” - -Says he, “I’m a bein’ cheerful, Samantha!” - -[Illustration: BEIN’ CHEERFUL.] - -Says I in the faint accents of weakness, “You are bein’ a natural born -idiot, and do you stop it.” - -Says he, “I won’t stop it, Samantha, I _will_ be cheerful;” and he -giggled. - -Says I, “Won’t you go out, and let me rest a little, Josiah Allen?” - -“No!” says he firmly, “I will stand by you, and I will be cheerful,” and -he snickered the loudest he had yet, but at the same time his countenance -was so awfully gloomy and anxious lookin’ that it filled me with a -strange awe as he continued-- - -“The doctor told me that you must be kep’ perfectly quiet, and I must be -cheerful before you, and while I have the spirit of a man I _will_ be -cheerful,” and with a despairin’ countenance, he giggled and snickered. - -I knew what a case he was to do his duty, and I groaned out, “There haint -no use a tryin’ to stop him.” - -“No,” says he, “there haint no use a arguin’ with me--I shall do my -duty.” And he bust out into a awful laugh that almost choked him. - -I knew there wouldn’t be no rest for me, while he stood there performin’ -like a circus, and so says I in a strategim way-- - -“It seems to me as if I should like a little lemonade, Josiah, but the -lemons are all gone.” - -Says he, “I will harness up the old mare and start for Jonesville this -minute, and get you some.” - -But after he got out in the kitchen, and his hat on, he stuck his head -into the door, and with a mournful countenance, snickered. - -After he fairly sot sail for Jonesville, now, thinks I to myself, I will -have a good nap, and rest my head while he is gone, and I had jest got -settled down, and was thinkin’ sweetly how slow the old mare was, when I -heerd a noise in the kitchen. And Tirzah Ann come in, and says she-- - -“Betsey Bobbet has come; I told her I guessed you was a goin’ to sleep, -and she hadn’t better come in, but she acted so mad about it, that I -don’t know what to do.” - -Before I could find time to tell her to lock the door, and put a chair -against it, Betsey come right in, and says she-- - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, how do you feel this mornin’?” and she added -sweetly, “You see I have come.” - -“I feel dreadful bad and feverish, this mornin’,” says I, groanin’ in -spite of myself. For my head felt the worst it had, everything looked -big, and sick to the stomach to me, kinder waverin’ and floatin’ round -like. - -“Yes, I know jest how you feel, Josiah Allen’s wife, for I have felt jest -so, only a great deal worse--why, talkin’ about fevahs, Josiah Allen’s -wife, I have had such a fevah that the sweat stood in great drops all -ovah me.” - -She took her things off, and laid ’em on the table, and she had a bag -hangin’ on her arm pretty near as big as a flour sack, and she laid that -down in one chair and took another one herself, and then she continued, - -“I have come down to spend the entiah day with you, Josiah Allen’s wife. -We heerd that you was sick, and we thought we would all come doun and -spend the day with you. We have got relations from a distance visitin’ -us,--relations on fathah’s side--and they are all a comin’. Mothah is -comin’ and Aunt Betsey, and cousin Annah Mariah and her two children. -But we don’t want you to make any fuss for us at all--only cousin Annah -Mariah was sayin’ yesterday that she did want an old-fashioned boiled -dinnah, before she went back to New York. Mothah was goin’ to boil one -yesterday, but you know jest how it scents up a house, and in _my_ -situation, not knowin’ _when_ I shall receive interestin’ calls, I _do_ -want to keep up a agreeable atmospheah. I told Annah Mariah _you_ had -all kinds of garden sauce. We don’t want you to make any difference for -us--not in the least--but boiled dinnahs, with a boiled puddin’ and sugar -sauce, are perfectly beautiful.” - -I groaned in a low tone, but Betsey was so engaged a talkin’, that she -didn’t heed it, but went on in a high, excited tone-- - -“I come on a little ahead, for I wanted to get a pattern for a bedquilt, -if you have got one to suit me. I am goin’ to piece up a bedquilt out -of small pieces of calico I have been savin’ for yeahs. And I brought -the whole bag of calicoes along, for Mothah and cousin Annah Mariah said -they would assist me in piecin’ up to-day, aftah I get them cut out. You -know I may want bedquilts suddenly. A great many young girls are bein’ -snatched away this spring. I think it becomes us all to be prepared. -Aunt Betsey would help me too, but she is in a dreadful hurry with a rag -carpet. She is goin’ to bring down a basket full of red and yellow rags -that mothah gave her, to tear up to-day. She said that it was not very -pretty work to carry visatin’, but I told her you was sick and would not -mind it. I guess,” she continued, takin’ up her bag, “I will pour these -calicoes all out upon the table, and then I will look at your bedquilts -and patterns.” And she poured out about half a bushel of crazy lookin’ -pieces of calico on the table, no two pieces of a size or color. - -[Illustration: KEEPIN’ THE SICK QUIET.] - -I groaned loudly, in spite of myself, and shut my eyes. She heard the -groan, and see the agony on to my eye brow, and says she, - -“The doctor said to our house this morning, that you must be kept -perfectly quiet--and I tell you Josiah Allen’s wife, that you _must not_ -get excited. We talked it over this morning, we said we were all going -to put in together, that you should keep perfectly quiet, and not get -excited in your mind. And now what would you advise me to do? Would you -have a sunflower bedquilt, or a blazing stah? Take it right to yourself -Josiah Allen’s wife, what would you do about it? But do not excite -yourself any. Blazing stahs look more showy, but then sun-flowehs -are easier to quilt. Quilt once around every piece, and it is enough, -and looks well on the other side, I am going to line it with otteh -coloh--white looks betteh, but if two little children jest of an age, -should happen to be a playing on it, it would keep clean longeh.” - -Agin I groaned, and says Betsey, “I do wish you would take my advice -Josiah Allen’s wife, and keep perfectly quiet in your mind. I should -think you would,” says she reproachfully. “When I have told you, how much -betteh it would be for you. I guess,” says she, “that you need chirking -up a little. I must enliven you, and make you look happier before I go -on with my bedquilt, and before we begin to look at your patterns and -bedquilts, I will read a little to you, I calculated too, if you was low -spirited; I came prepared.” And takin’ a paper out of her pocket she says, - -“I will now proceed to read to you one of the longest, most noble and -eloquent editorials that has eveh come out in the pages of the Augah, -written by its noble and eloquent Editah. It is six columns in length, -and is concerning our relations with Spain.” - -This was too much--too much--and I sprung up on my couch, and cried -wildly, - -“Let the Editor of the Augur and his relations go to Spain! And do you go -to Spain with your relations!” says I, “and do you start this minute!” - -Betsey was appalled, and turned to flee, and I cried out agin, - -“Do you take your bedquilt with you.” - -She gathered up her calicoes, and fled. And I sunk back, shed one or two -briny tears of relief, and then sunk into a sweet and refreshin’ sleep. -And from that hour I gained on it. But in the next week’s Augur, these -and 10 more verses like ’em come out. - - BLASTED HOPES. - - I do not mind my cold rebuffs - To be turned out with bedquilt stuffs; - Philosophy would ease my smart, - Would say, “Oh peace, sad female heart.” - But Oh, this is the woe to me, - She would not listen unto he. - - If it had been _my_ soaring muse, - That she in wild scorn did refuse, - I could like marble statute rise, - And face her wrath with tearless eyes; - ’Twould not have been such a blow to me, - But, she would not listen unto _he_. - - - - -THE JONESVILLE SINGIN’ QUIRE. - - -Thomas Jefferson is a good boy. His teacher to the Jonesville Academy -told me the other day, says he, - -“Thomas J. is full of fun, but I don’t believe he has a single bad habit; -and I don’t believe he knows any more about bad things, than Tirzah Ann, -and she is a girl of a thousand.” - -This made my heart beat with pure and fervent emotions of joy, for I knew -it was true, but I tell you I have had to work for it. I was determined -from the first, that Thomas Jefferson needn’t think because he was a boy -he could do anything that would be considered disgraceful if he was a -girl. Now some mothers will worry themselves to death about thier girls, -so afraid they will get into bad company and bring disgrace onto ’em. I -have said to ’em sometimes, - -“Why don’t you worry about your boys?” - -“Oh things are winked at in a man that haint in a woman.” - -Says I, “There is one woman that no man can get to wink at ’em, and that -is Samantha Allen, whose maiden name was Smith.” Says I, “It is enough -to make anybody’s blood bile in thier vains to think how different sin -is looked upon in a man and woman. I say sin is sin, and you can’t make -goodness out of it by parsin’ it in the masculine gender, no more’n you -can by parsin’ it in the feminine or neutral. - -“And wimmin are the most to blame in this respect. I believe in givin’ -the D----I won’t speak the gentleman’s name right out, because I belong -to the Methodist Meetin’ house, but you know who I mean, and I believe in -givin’ him his due, if you owe him anything, and I say men haint half so -bad as wimmen about holdin’ up male sinners and stompin’ down female ones. - -“Wimmen are meaner than pusley about some things, and this is one of ’em. -Now wimmen will go out and kill the fatted calf with thier own hands to -feast the male prodigal that has been livin’ on husks. But let the woman -that he has been boardin’ with on the same bundle of husks, ask meekly -for a little mite of this veal critter, will she get it? No! She won’t -get so much as one of the huffs. She will be told to keep on eatin’ her -husks, and after she has got through with ’em to die, for after a _woman_ -has once eat husks, she can’t never eat any other vittles. And if she -asks meekly, why is her stomach so different from the male husk eater, -_he_ went right off from husks to fatted calves, they’ll say to her -‘what is sin in a woman haint sin in a man. Men are such noble creatures -that they _will_ be a little wild, it is expected of ’em, but after they -have sowed all thier wild oats, they always settle down and make the very -best of men.’ - -“‘Can’t I settle down too?’ cries the poor woman. ‘_I_ am sick of wild -oats too, _I_ am sick of husks--I want to live a good life, in the sight -of God and man--can’t I settle down too?’ - -“‘Yes you can settle down in the grave,’ they say to her--‘When a woman -has sinned once, that is all the place there is for her--a woman _cannot_ -be forgiven.’ There is an old sayin’ ‘Go and sin no more.’ But that is -eighteen hundred years old--awful old fashioned.” - -And then after they have feasted the male husk eater, on this gospel -veal, and fell on his neck and embraced him a few times, they will -take him into thier houses and marry him to their purest and prettiest -daughter, while at the same time they won’t have the female husker in -thier kitchen to wash for ’em at 4 cents an article. - -I say it is a shame and a disgrace, for the woman to bear all the burden -of sufferin’ and all the burden of shame too; it is a mean, cowardly -piece of business, and I should think the very stuns would go to yellin’ -at each other to see such injustice. - -But Josiah Allen’s children haint been brought up in any such kind of a -way. They have been brought up to think that sin of any kind is jest as -bad in a man as it is in a woman. And any place of amusement that was bad -for a woman to go to, was bad for a man. - -Now when Thomas Jefferson was a little feller, he was bewitched to go to -circuses, and Josiah said, - -“Better let him go, Samantha, it haint no place for wimmin or girls, but -it won’t hurt a boy.” - -Says I, “Josiah Allen, the Lord made Thomas Jefferson with jest as pure a -heart as Tirzah Ann, and no bigger eyes and ears, and if Thomas J. goes -to the circus, Tirzah Ann goes too.” - -That stopped that. And then he was bewitched to get with other boys that -smoked and chewed tobacco, and Josiah was jest that easy turn, that he -would have let him go with ’em. But says I-- - -“Josiah Allen, if Thomas Jefferson goes with those boys, and gets to -chewin’ and smokin’ tobacco, I shall buy Tirzah Ann a pipe.” - -And that stopped that. - -“And about drinkin’,” says I. “Thomas Jefferson, if it should ever be -the will of Providence to change you into a wild bear, I will chain you -up, and do the best I can by you. But if you ever do it yourself, turn -yourself into a wild beast by drinkin’, I will run away, for I never -could stand it, never. And,” I continued, “if I ever see you hangin’ -round bar-rooms and tavern doors, Tirzah Ann shall hang too.” - -Josiah argued with me, says he, “It don’t look so bad for a boy as it -does for a girl.” - -Says I, “Custom makes the difference; we are more used to seein’ men. -But,” says I, “when liquor goes to work to make a fool and a brute of -anybody it don’t stop to ask about sect, it makes a wild beast and a -idiot of a man or a woman, and to look down from Heaven, I guess a man -looks as bad layin’ dead drunk in a gutter as a woman does,” says I; -“things look different from up there, than what they do to us--it is a -more sightly place. And you talk about _looks_, Josiah Allen. I don’t go -on clear looks, I go onto principle. Will the Lord say to me in the last -day, ‘Josiah Allen’s wife, how is it with the sole of Tirzah Ann--as for -Thomas Jefferson’s sole, he bein’ a boy it haint of no account?’ No! I -shall have to give an account to Him for my dealin’s with both of these -soles, male and female. And I should feel guilty if I brought him up to -think that what was impure for a woman, was pure for a man. If man has -a greater desire to do wrong--which I won’t dispute,” says I lookin’ -keenly on to Josiah, “he has greater strength to resist temptation. And -so,” says I in mild accents, but firm as old Plymouth Rock, “if Thomas -Jefferson hangs, Tirzah Ann shall hang too.” - -I have brought Thomas Jefferson up to think that it was jest as bad for -him to listen to a bad story or song, as for a girl, or worse, for he had -more strength to run away, and that it was a disgrace for him to talk -or listen to any stuff that he would be ashamed to have Tirzah Ann or me -hear. I have brought him up to think that manliness didn’t consist in -havin’ a cigar in his mouth, and his hat on one side, and swearin’ and -slang phrases, and a knowledge of questionable amusements, but in layin’ -holt of every duty that come to him, with a brave heart and a cheerful -face; in helpin’ to right the wrong, and protect the weak, and makin’ the -most and the best of the mind and the soul God had given him. In short, -I have brought him up to think that purity and virtue are both masculine -and femanine gender, and that God’s angels are not necessarily all she -ones. - -Tirzah Ann too has come up well, though I say it, that shouldn’t, her -head haint all full, runnin’ over, and frizzlin’ out on top of it, with -thoughts of beaux and flirtin’. I have brought her up to think that -marriage wasn’t the chief end of life, but savin’ her soul. Tirzah -Ann’s own grandmother on her mother’s side, used to come visatin’ us -and stay weeks at a time, kinder spyin’ out I spose how I done by the -children,--thank fortune, I wasn’t afraid to have her spy, all she was a -mind too, I wouldn’t have been afraid to had Benedict Arnold, and Major -Andre come as spys. I did well by ’em, and she owned it, though she did -think I made Tirzah Ann’s night gowns a little too full round the neck, -and Thomas Jefferson’s roundabouts a little too long behind. But as I -was a sayin’, the old lady begun to kinder train Tirzah Ann up to the -prevailin’ idee of its bein’ her only aim in life to catch a husband, and -if she would only grow up and be a real good girl she should marry. - -I didn’t say nothin’ to the old lady, for I respect old age, but I took -Josiah out one side, and says I, - -“Josiah Allen, if Tirzah Ann is to be brought up to think that marriage -is the chief aim of her life, Thomas J. shall be brought up to think that -marriage is his chief aim.” Says I, “it looks just as flat in a woman, as -it does in a man.” - -Josiah didn’t make much of any answer to me, he is an easy man. But as -that was the old lady’s last visit (she was took bed rid the next week, -and haint walked a step sense), I haint had no more trouble on them -grounds. - -When Tirzah Ann gets old enough, if a good true man, a man for instance, -such as I think Whitfield Minkley, our minister’s oldest boy is a goin’ -to make, if such a man offers Tirzah Ann his love which is the greatest -honor a man can do a woman, why Tirzah will, I presume, if she loves him -well enough, marry him. I should give my consent, and so would Josiah. -But to have all her mind sot onto that hope and expectatin’ till she -begins to look wild, I have discouraged it in her. - -I have told her that goodness, truth, honor, vertue and nobility come -first as aims in life. Says I, - -“Tirzah Ann, seek these things first, and then if a husband is added unto -you, you may know it is the Lord’s will, and accept him like any other -dispensation of Providence, and--” I continued as dreamy thoughts of -Josiah floated through my mind, “make the best of him.” - -I feel thankful to think they have both come up as well as they have. -Tirzah Ann is more of a quiet turn, but Thomas J., though his morals are -sound, is dreadful full of fun, I worry some about him for he haint made -no professions, I never could get him forred onto the anxious seat. He -told Elder Minkley last winter that “the seats were all made of the same -kind of basswood, and he could be jest as anxious out by the door, as he -could on one of the front seats.” - -Says Elder Minkley, “My dear boy, I want you to find the Lord.” - -“I haint never lost him,” says Thomas Jefferson. - -It shocked Elder Minkley dreadfully--but it sot me to thinkin’. He was -always an odd child, always askin’ the curiousest questions, and I -brought him up to think that the Lord was with him all the time, and see -what he was doin’, and mebby he was in the right of it, mebby he felt as -if he hadn’t never lost Him. He was always the greatest case to be out -in the woods and lots, findin’ everything--and sometimes I have almost -thought the trash he thinks so much of, such as shells and pieces of -rock and stun, and flowers and moss, are a kind of means of grace to him, -and then agin I don’t know. If I really thought they was I don’t suppose -I should have pitched ’em out of the winder so many times as I have, -clutterin’ up the house so. - -I worry about him awfully sometimes, and then agin I lay holt of the -promises. Now last Saturday night to have heard him go on, about the -Jonesville quire, you’d a thought he never had a sober, solemn thought in -his head. They meet to practice Saturday nights, and he had been to hear -’em. I stood his light talk as long as I could, and finally I told him to -stop it, for I would not hear him go on so. - -“Wall,” says he, “you go yourself mother sometime, and see thier -carryin’s on. Why,” says he, “if fightin’ entitles anybody to a pension, -they ought to draw 96 dollars a year, every one of ’em--you go yourself, -and hear ’em rehearse if you don’t believe me--” and then he begun to -sing, - - ‘Just before the battle, mother, - I am thinkin’ now of you.’ - -“I’ll be hanged if I would rehearse,” says Josiah, “what makes ’em?” - -“Let ’em rehearse,” says I sternly, “I should think there was need enough -of it.” - -It happened that very next night, Elder Merton preached to the red school -house, and Josiah hitched up the old mare, and we went over. It was the -first time I had been out sense the axident. Thomas J. and Tirzah Ann -walked. - -Josiah and I sot right behind the quire, and we could hear every word -they said, and while Elder Merton was readin’ the hymn, “How sweet for -brethren to agree,” old Gowdey whispered to Mr. Peedick in wrathful -accents, - -“I wonder if you will put us all to open shame to-night by screechin’ two -or three notes above us all?” - -He caught my keen grey eye fixed sternly upon him, and his tone changed -in a minute to a mild, sheepish one, and he added smilin’ “as it were, -deah brother Peedick.” - -Mr. Peedick designed not to reply to him, for he was shakin’ his fist at -one of the younger brethrin’ in the quire, and says he, - -“Let me catch you pressin’ the key agin to-night, you young villain, if -you think it is best.” - -“I shall press as many keys as I am a minter for all you. You’re always -findin’ fault with sunthin’ or other,” muttered he. - -Betsey Bobbet and Sophronia Gowdey was lookin’ at each other all this -time with looks that made one’s blood run cold in thier vains. - -Mr. Peedick commenced the tune, but unfortunately struck into short -metre. They all commenced loud and strong, but couldn’t get any further -than “How sweet for bretherin.” As they all come to a sudden halt there -in front of that word--Mr. Gowdey--lookin’ daggers at Mr. Peedick--took -out his pitch fork, as if it was a pistol, and he was goin’ to shoot him -with it, but applyin’ it to his own ear, he started off on the longest -metre that had ever been in our neighborhood. After addin’ the tune to -the words, there was so much tune to carry, that the best calculator in -tunes couldn’t do it. - -At that very minute when it looked dark, and gloomy indeed for the quire, -an old lady, the best behaved in the quire, who had minded her own -business, and chawed caraway peacefully, come out and started it to the -tune of “Oh that will be joyful.” - -They all joined in at the top of their voice, and though they each -one put in flats and sharps to suit thier own taste, they kinder hung -together till they got to the chorus, and then Mr. Gowdey looked round -and frowned fiercely at Shakespeare Bobbet who seemed to be flattin’ most -of any of ’em, and Betsey Bobbet punched Sophronia Gowdey in the side -with her parasol, and told her she was “disgracin’ the quire--and to sing -slower,” and then they all yelled - - How sweet is unitee--e - How sweet is unitee, - How sweet for bretheren to agree, - How sweet is unitee. - -[Illustration: THE SINGING QUIRE.] - -It seemed as if the very feather on my bunnet stood up straight, to hear -’em, it was so awful. Then they collected their strength, and drawin’ -long breaths, they yelled out the next verses like wild Indians round -sufferin’ whites they was murderin’. If any one had iron ears, it would -have went off well, all but for one thing--there was an old man who -insisted on bein’ in the quire, who was too blind to see the words, and -always sung by ear, and bein’ a little deaf he got the words wrong, but -he sung out loud and clear like a trembone, - - How sweet is onion tee--e, - How sweet is onion tea. - -Elder Merton made a awful good prayer, about trials purifyin’ folks and -makin’ ’em better, and the same heroic patient look was on his face, when -he give out the next him. - -This piece begun with a long duett between the tenor and the alto, and -Betsey Bobbet by open war and strategim had carried the day, and was to -sing this part alone with the tenor. She knew the Editer of the Augur was -the only tenor singer in the quire. She was so proud and happy thinkin’ -she was goin’ to sing alone with him, that not rightly sensin’ where she -was, and what she was about, she pitched her part too low, and here was -where I had my trial with Josiah. - -There is no more sing to Josiah Allen than there is to a one horse wagon, -and I have tried to convince him of it, but I can’t, and he will probably -go down to the grave thinkin’ he can sing base. But thier is no sing to -it, that, I will contend for with my last breath, it is nothin’ more nor -less than a roar. But one thing I will give him the praise of, he is a -dreadful willin’ man in the time of trouble, and if he takes it into his -head that it is his duty to sing, you can’t stop him no more than you can -stop a clap of thunder, and when he does let his voice out, he lets it -out strong, I can tell you. As Betsey finished the first line, I heard -him say to himself. - -“It is a shame for one woman to sing base alone, in a room full of men.” -And before I could stop him, he struck in with his awful energy, you -couldn’t hear Betsey’s voice, nor the Editer’s, no more than you could -hear two flies buzzin’ in a car whistle. It was dreadful. And as he -finished the first verse, I ketched hold of his vest, I didn’t stand up, -by reason of bein’ lame yet from the axident--and says I, - -“If you sing another verse in that way, I’ll part with you,” says I, -“what do you mean Josiah Allen?” - -Says he, lookin’ doun on me with the persperation a pourin’ down his face, - -“I am a singin’ base.” - -Says I, “Do you set down and behave yourself, she has pitched it too low, -it hain’t base, Josiah.” - -Says he, “I know better Samantha, it _is_ base, I guess I know base when -I hear it.” - -But I still held him by the vest, determined that he shouldn’t start off -again, if I could hender it, and jest at that minute the duett begun -agin, and Sophronia Gowdey took advantage of Betsey’s indignation and -suprise, and took the part right out of her mouth, and struck in with the -Editer of the Augur--she is kinder after him too, and she broke out with -the curiousest variations you ever heard. The warblin’s and quaverin’s -and shakin’s, she put in was the curiousest of any thing I ever heard. -And thankful was I that it took up Josiah’s attention so, that he sunk -down on his seat, and listened to ’em with breathless awe, and never -offered to put in his note at all. - -I waited till they got through singin’ and then I whispered to him, and -says I, - -“Now do you keep still for the rest of this meetin’ Josiah Allen.” - -Says he, “As long as I call myself a man, I will have the privilege of -singin’ base.” - -“_Sing_,” says I in a tone almost cold enough to make his whiskers -frosty, “I’d call it _singin’_ if I was you.” It worried me all through -meetin’ time, and thankful was I when he dropped off into a sweet sleep -jest before meetin’ was out. He never heard ’em sing the last time, and I -had to hunch him for the benediction. - -In the next week’s Augur came out a lot of verses, among which were the -following: they were headed - - SORROWS OF THE HEART. - - Written on bein’ broken into, while singin’ a duett with a deah friend. - - BY BETSY BOBBET. - - And sweetness neveh seems so sweet, - As when his voice and mine doth meet, - I rise, I soah, earth’s sorrows leaving, - I almost seem to be in heaveng. - - But when we are sweetly going on, - ’Tis hard to be broke in upon; - To drounded be, oh foul disgrace, - In awful roars of dreadful base. - - And when another female in her vain endeavors, - To fascinate a certain noble man, puts in such quavers, - And trills and warbles with such sickish variation, - It don’t raise her at all in that man’s estimation. - -There was 13 verses and Josiah read them all, but I wouldn’t read but 7 -of ’em. I don’t like poetry. - - - - -MISS SHAKESPEARE’S EARRINGS. - - -Them verses of Betsey’s kinder worked Josiah up, I know, though he didn’t -say much. That line “dreadful roars of awful base” mortified him, I know, -because he actually did think that he sung pretty enough for a orkusstry. -I didn’t say much to him about it. I don’t believe in twittin’ all the -time, about anything, for it makes anybody feel as unpleasant as it does -to set down on a paper of carpet tacks. I only said to him-- - -“I tried to convince you, Josiah, that you _couldn’t_ sing, for 14 years, -and now that it has come out in poetry mebby you’ll believe it. I guess -you’ll listen to me another time, Josiah Allen.” - -He says, “I wish you wouldn’t be so aggravatin’, Samantha.” - -That was all that was said on either side. But I noticed that he didn’t -sing any more. We went to several conference meetin’s that week, and not -one roar did he give. It was an awful relief to me, for I never felt -safe for a minute, not knowin’ when he would break out. - -The next week Saturday after the poetry come out, Tirzah took it into her -head that she wanted to go to Elder Morton’s a visitin’; Maggie Snow was -a goin’ to meet her there, and I told her to go--I’d get along with the -work somehow. - -I had to work pretty hard, but then I got it all out of the way early, -and my head combed and my dress changed, and I was jest pinnin’ my linen -coller over my clean gingham dress (broun and black plaid) to the lookin’ -glass, when lookin’ up, who should I see but Betsey Bobbet comin’ through -the gate. She stopped a minute to Tirzah Ann’s posy bed, and then she -come along kinder gradually, and stopped and looked at my new tufted -bedspread that I have got out a whitenin’ on the grass, and then she come -up the steps and come in. - -Somehow I was kinder glad to see her that day. I had had first rate luck -with all my bakin’, every thing had turned out well, and I felt real -reconciled to havin’ a visit from her. - -But I see she looket ruther gloomy, and after she sot down and took out -her tattin’ and begun to tat, she spoke up and says she-- - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, I feel awful deprested to-day.” - -“What is the matter?” says I in a cheerful tone. - -“I feel lonely,” says she, “more lonely than I have felt for yeahs.” - -Again says I kindly but firmly-- - -“What is the matter, Betsey?” - -“I had a dream last night, Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -“What was it?” says I in a sympathizin’ accent, for she did look -meloncholly and sad indeed. - -“I dreamed I was married, Josiah Allen’s wife,” says she in a -heart-broken tone, and she laid her hand on my arm in her deep emotion. -“I tell you it was hard after dreamin’ that, to wake up again to the -cold realities and cares of this life; it was _hard_,” she repeated, -and a tear gently flowed down her Roman nose and dropped off onto her -overskirt. She knew salt water would spot otter color awfully, and so she -drew her handkerchief out of her pocket, and spread it in her lap, (it -was white trimmed with narrow edgein’) and continued-- - -“Life seemed so hard and lonesome to me, that I sot up in the end of the -bed and wept. I tried to get to sleep again, hopin’ I would dream it -ovah, but I could not.” - -And again two salt tears fell in about the middle of the handkerchief. I -see she needed consolation, and my gratitude made me feel soft to her, -and so says I in a reasurin’ tone-- - -“To be sure husbands are handy on 4th of July’s, and funeral prosessions, -it looks kinder lonesome to see a woman streamin’ along alone, but they -are contrary creeters, Betsey, when they are a mind to be.” - -And then to turn the conversation and get her mind off’en her trouble, -says I, - -“How did you like my bed spread, Betsey?” - -“It is beautiful,” says she sorrowfully. - -“Yes,” says I, “it looks well enough now its done, but it most wore my -fingers out a tuftin’ it--it’s a sight of work.” - -But I saw how hard it was to draw her mind off from broodin’ over her -troubles, for she spoke in a mournful tone, - -“How sweet it must be to weah the fingers out for a deah companion. I -would be willing to weah mine clear down to the bone. I made a vow some -yeahs ago,” says she, kinder chirkin’ up a little, and beginnin’ to tat -agin. “I made a vow yeahs ago that I would make my deah future companion -happy, for I would neveh, neveh fail to meet him with a sweet smile as he -came home to me at twilight. I felt that that was all he would requireh -to make him happy. Do you think it was a rash vow, Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -“Oh,” says I in a sort of blind way, “I guess it won’t do any hurt. But, -if a man couldn’t have but one of the two, a smile or a supper, as he -come home at night, I believe he would take the supper.” - -“Oh deah,” says Betsey, “such cold, practical ideahs are painful to me.” - -“Wall,” says I cheerfully but firmly, “if you ever have the opportunity, -you try both ways. You jest let your fire go out, and your house and you -look like fury, and nothin’ to eat, and you stand on the door smilin’ -like a first class idiot--and then agin you have a first rate supper -on the table, stewed oysters, and warm biscuit and honey, or somethin’ -else first rate, and a bright fire shinin’ on a clean hearth, and the -tea-kettle a singin’, and the tea-table all set out neat as a pink, and -you goin’ round in a cheerful, sensible way gettin’ the supper onto the -table, and you jest watch, and see which of the two ways is the most -agreable to him.” - -Betsey still looked unconvinced, and I proceeded onwards. - -“Now I never was any hand to stand and smile at Josiah for two or three -hours on a stretch, it would make me feel like a natural born idiot; but -I always have a bright fire, and a warm supper a waitin’ for him when he -comes home at night.” - -“Oh food! food! what is food to the deathless emotions of the soul. What -does the aching young heart care for what food it eats--let my deah -future companion smile on me, and that is enough.” - -Says I in reasonable tones, “A man _can’t_ smile on an empty stomach -Betsey, not for any length of time. And no man can’t eat soggy bread, -with little chunks of salaratus in it, and clammy potatoes, and beefsteak -burnt and raw in spots, and drink dishwatery tea, and muddy coffee, -and smile--or they might give one or 2 sickly, deathly smiles, but they -wouldn’t keep it up, you depend upon it they wouldn’t, and it haint in -the natur’ of a man to, and I say they hadn’t ought to. I have seen bread -Betsey Bobbet, that was enough to break down any man’s affection for a -woman, unless he had firm principle to back it up--and love’s young dream -has been drounded in thick, muddy coffee more’n once. If there haint -anything pleasant in a man’s home how can he keep attached to it? Nobody, -man nor woman can’t respect what haint respectable, or love what haint -lovable. I believe in bein’ cheerful Betsey; a complainin’, fretful woman -in the house, is worse than a cold, drizzlin’ rain comin’ right down -all the time onto the cook stove. Of course men have to be corrected, I -correct Josiah frequently, but I believe in doin’ it all up at one time -and then have it over with, jest like a smart dash of a thunder shower -that clears up the air.” - -“Oh, how a female woman that is blest with a deah companion, can even -speak of correcting him, is a mystery to me.” - -But again I spoke, and my tone was as firm and lofty as Bunker Hill -monument-- - -“Men _have_ to be corrected, Betsey, there wouldn’t be no livin’ with ’em -unless you did.” - -“Well,” says she, “you can entertain such views as you will, but for me, -I _will_ be clingin’ in my nature, I _will_ be respected by men, they do -so love to have wimmin clingin’, that I will, until I die, carry out this -belief that is so sweet to them--until I die I will nevah let go of this -speah.” - -I didn’t say nothin’, for gratitude tied up my tongue, but as I rose -and went up stairs to wind me a little more yarn--I thought I wouldn’t -bring down the swifts for so little as I wanted to wind--I thought sadly -to myself, what a hard, hard time she had had, sense I had known her, -a handlin’ that spear. We got to talkin’ about it the other day, how -long she had been a handlin’ of it. Says Thomas Jefferson, “She has been -brandishin’ it for fifty years.” - -Says I, “Shet up, Thomas J., she haint been born longer ago than that.” - -Says he--“She was born with that spear in her hand.” - -But as I said she has had a hard and mournful time a tryin’ to make a -runnin’ vine of herself sense I knew her. And Josiah says she was at it, -for years before I ever see her. She has tried to make a vine of herself -to all kinds of trees, straight and crooked, sound and rotten, young and -old. Her mind is sot the most now, on the Editer of the Augur, but she -pays attention to any and every single man that comes in her way. And it -seems strange to me that them that preach up this doctrine of woman’s -only spear, don’t admire one who carrys it out to its full extent. It -seems kinder ungrateful in ’em, to think that when Betsey is so willin’ -to be a vine, they will not be a tree; but they won’t, they seem sot -against it. - -I say if men insist on makin’ runnin’ vines of wimmin, they ought to -provide trees for ’em to run up on, it haint nothin’ more’n justice that -they should, but they won’t and don’t. Now ten years ago the Methodist -minister before Elder Wesley Minkley came, was a widower of some twenty -odd years, and he was sorely stricken with years and rheumatiz. But -Betsey showed plainly her willin’ness and desire to be a vine, if he -would be a tree. But he would not be a tree--he acted real obstinate -about it, considerin’ his belief. For he was awful opposed to wimmin’s -havin’ any rights only the right to marry. He preached a beautiful sermon -about woman’s holy mission, and how awful it was in her, to have any -ambition outside of her own home. And how sweet it was to see her in her -confidin’ weakness and gentleness clingin’ to man’s manly strength. There -wasn’t a dry eye in the house only mine. Betsey wept aloud, she was so -affected by it. And it was beautiful, I don’t deny it; I always respected -clingers. But I love to see folks use reason. And I say again, how can -a woman cling when she haint got nothin’ to cling to? That day I put it -fair and square to our old minister, he went home with us to supper, and -he begun on me about wimmin’s rights, for he knew I believe in wimmin’s -havin a right. Says he, “It is flyin’ in the face of the Bible for a -woman not to marry.” - -Says I, “Elder how can any lady make brick without straw or sand--_how_ -can a woman marry without a man is forthcomin’?” says I, “wimmen’s will -may be good, but there is some things she can not do, and this is one of -’em.” Says I, “as our laws are at present no women can marry unless she -has a man to marry to. And if the man is obstinate and hangs back what is -she to do?” - -He begun to look a little sheepish and tried to kinder turn off the -subject on to religion. - -But no steamboat ever sailed onward under the power of biled water steam, -more grandly than did Samantha Allen’s words under the steam of bilein’ -principle. I fixed my eyes upon him with seemin’ly an arrow in each one -of ’em, and says I-- - -“Which had you rather do Elder, let Betsey Bobbet vote, or cling to you? -She is fairly achin’ to make a runnin’ vine of herself,” and says I, in -slow, deep, awful tones, “are you willin’ to be a tree?” - -Again he weakly murmured somethin’ on the subject of religion, but I -asked him again in slower, awfuler tones. - -“_Are you willin’ to be a tree?_” - -He turned to Josiah, and says he, “I guess I will go out to the barn and -bring in my saddle bags.” He had come to stay all night. And that man -went to the barn smit and conscience struck, and haint opened his head -to me sense about wimmin’s not havin’ a right. - -I had jest arrived at this crysis in my thoughts, and had also got my -yarn wound up--my yarn and my revery endin’ up at jest the same time, -when Betsey came to the foot of the stairs and called out-- - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, a gentleman is below, and craves an audience with -you.” - -I sot back my swifts, and went down, expectin’ from the reverential -tone of her voice to see a United States Governor, or a Deacon at the -very least. But it wasn’t either of ’em, it was a peddler. He wanted to -know if I could get some dinner for him, and I thinkin’ one more trial -wouldn’t kill me said I would. He was a loose jinted sort of a chap, with -his hat sot onto one side of his head, but his eyes had a twinkle to ’em, -that give the idee that he knew what he was about. - -After dinner he kep’ a bringin’ on his goods from his cart, and praisin’ -’em up, the lies that man told was enough to apaul the ablest bodied man, -but Betsey swallowed every word. After I had coldly rejected all his -other overtures for tradin’, he brought on a strip of stair carpetin’, a -thin striped yarn carpet, and says he-- - -“Can’t I sell you this beautiful carpet? it is the pure Ingrain.” - -“Ingrain,” says I, “so be you Ingrain as much.” - -“I guess I know,” says he, “for I bought it of old Ingrain himself, I -give the old man 12 shillin’s a yard for it, but seein’ it is you, and -I like your looks so much, and it seems so much like home to me here, -I will let you have it for 75 cents, cheaper than dirt to walk on, or -boards.” - -“I don’t want it,” says I, “I have got carpets enough.” - -“Do you want it for 50 cents?” says he follerin’ me to the wood-box. - -“No!” says I pretty sharp, for I don’t want to say no two times, to -anybody. - -“Would 25 cents be any indoosement to you?” says he, follerin’ me to the -buttery door. - -“No!” says I in my most energetic voice, and started for the suller with -a plate of nut-cakes. - -“Would 18 pence tempt you?” says he, hollerin’ down the suller way. - -Then says I, comin’ up out of the suller with the old Smith blood bilin’ -up in my veins, “Say another word to me about your old stair carpet if -you dare; jest let me ketch you at it,” says I; “be I goin’ to have you -traipse all over the house after me? be I goin’ to be made crazy as a -loon by you?” - -“Oh, Josiah Allen’s wife,” says Betsey, “do not be so hasty; of course -the gentleman wishes to dispose of his goods, else why should he be in -the mercanteel business?” - -I didn’t say nothin’--gratitude still had holt of me--but I inwardly -determined that not one word would I say if he cheated her out of her eye -teeth. - -Addressin’ his attention to Betsey, he took a pair of old fashioned ear -rings out of his jacket pocket, and says he-- - -“I carry these in my pocket for fear I will be robbed of ’em. I hadn’t -ought to carry ’em at all, a single man goin’ alone round the country as -I do, but I have got a pistol, and let anybody tackle me for these ear -rings if they dare to,” says he, lookin’ savage. - -“Is thier intrinsick worth so large?” says Betsey, - -“It haint so much thier neat value,” says he, “although that is enormous, -as who owned ’em informally. Whose ears do you suppose these have had -hold of?” - -“How can I judge,” says Betsey with a winnin’ smile, “nevah havin’ seen -them before.” - -“Jest so,” says he, “you never was acquainted with ’em, but these very -identical creeters used to belong to Miss Shakespeare. Yes, these -belonged to Hamlet’s mother,” says he, lookin’ pensively upon them. “Bill -bought ’em at old Stratford.” - -“Bill?” says Betsey inquirin’ly. - -“Yes,” says he, “old Shakespeare. I have been reared with his folks so -much, that I have got into the habit of callin’ him Bill, jest as they -do.” - -“Then you have been there?” says Betsey with a admirin’ look. - -“Oh yes, wintered there and partly summered. But as I was sayin’ William -bought ’em and give ’em to his wife, when he first begun to pay attention -to her. Bill bought ’em at a auction of a one-eyed man with a wooden leg, -by the name of Brown. Miss Shakespeare wore ’em as long as she lived, and -they was kept in the family till I bought ’em. A sister of one of his -brother-in-laws was obleeged to part with ’em to get morpheen.” - -“I suppose you ask a large price for them?” says Betsey, examanin’ ’em -with a reverential look onto her countenance. - -“How much! how much you remind me of a favorite sister of mine, who -died when she was fifteen. She was considered by good judges to be the -handsomest girl in North America. But business before pleasure. I ought -to have upwards of 30 dollars a head for ’em, but seein’ it is you, and -it haint no ways likely I shall ever meet with another wo--young girl -that I feel under bonds to sell ’em to, you may have ’em for 13 dollars -and a ½.” - -“That is more money than I thought of expendin’ to-day,” says Betsey in a -thoughtful tone. - -“Let me tell you what I will do; I don’t care seein’ it is you, if I do -get cheated, I am willin’ to be cheated by one that looks so much like -that angel sister. Give me 13 dollars and a ½, and I will throw in the -pin that goes with ’em. I did want to keep that to remind me of them -happy days at old Stratford,” and he took the breastpin out of his -pocket, and put it in her hand in a quick kind of a way. “Take ’em,” says -he, turnin’ his eyes away, “take ’em and put ’em out of my sight, quick! -or I shall repent.” - -“I do not want to rob you of them,” says Betsey tenderly. - -“Take ’em,” says he in a wild kind of a way, “take ’em, and give me the -money quick, before I am completely unmanned.” - -She handed him the money, and says he in agitated tones, “Take care of -the ear rings, and heaven bless you.” And he ketched up his things, -and started off in a awful hurry. Betsey gazed pensively out of the -winder, till he disapeared in the distance, and then she begun to brag -about her ear rings, as Miss Shakespeare’s relicks. Thomas Jefferson -praised ’em awfully to Betsey’s face, when he came home, but when I was -in the buttery cuttin’ cake for supper, he come and leaned over me and -whispered-- - - “Who bought for gold the purest brass? - Mother, who brought this grief to pass? - What is this maiden’s name? Alas! - - Betsey Bobbet.” - -And when I went down suller for the butter, he come and stood in the -outside suller door, and says he, - - “How was she fooled, this lovely dame? - How was her reason overcame? - What was this lovely creature’s name? - - Betsey Bobbet.” - -[Illustration: THE EAR RING PEDLER.] - -That is jest the way he kep’ at it, he would kinder happen round where I -was, and every chance he would get he would have over a string of them -verses, till it did seem as if I should go crazy. Finally I said to him -in tones before which he quailed, - -“If I hear one word more of poetry from you to-night I will complain to -your father,” says I wildly, “I don’t believe there is another woman in -the United States that suffers so much from poetry as I do! What have I -done,” says I still more wildly, “that I should be so tormented by it?” -says I, “I won’t hear another word of poetry to-night,” says I, “I will -stand for my rights--I will not be drove into insanity with poetry.” - -Betsey started for home in good season, and I told her I would go as fur -as Squire Edwards’es with her. Miss Edwards was out by the gate, and of -course Betsey had to stop and show the ear rings. She was jest lookin’ -at ’em when the minister and Maggie Snow and Tirzah Ann drove up to the -gate, and wanted to know what we was lookin’ at so close, and Betsey, -castin’ a proud and haughty look onto the girls, told him that-- - -“It was a paih of ear rings that had belonged to the immortal Mr. -Shakespeah’s wife informally.” - -The minute Elder Merton set his eyes on ’em, “Why,” says he, “my wife -sold these to a peddler to-day.” - -“Yes,” says Tirzah Ann, “these are the very ones; she sold them for a -dozen shirt buttons and a paper of pins.” - -“I do not believe it,” says Betsey wildly. - -“It is so,” said the minister. “My wife’s father got them for her, they -proved to be brass, and so she never wore them; to-day the peddler wanted -to buy old jewelry, and she brought out some broken rings, and these were -in the box, and she told him he might have them in welcome, but he threw -out the buttons and a paper of pins.” - -“I do not believe it--I cannot believe it,” says Betsey gaspin’ for -breath. - -“Well, it is the truth,” says Maggie Snow (she can’t bear Betsey), “and I -heard him say he would get ’em off onto some fool, and make her think--” - -“I am in such a hurry I must go,” said Betsey, and she left without -sayin’ another word. - -[Illustration] - - - - -A NIGHT OF TROUBLES. - - -Truly last night was a night of troubles to us. We was kept awake all -the forepart of the night with cats fightin’. It does beat all how they -went on, how many there was of ’em I don’t know; Josiah thought there was -upwards of 50. I myself made a calm estimate of between 3 and 4. But I -tell you they went in strong what there was of ’em. What under heavens -they found to talk about so long, and in such unearthly voices, is a -mystery to me. You couldn’t sleep no more than if you was in Pandemonium. -And about 11, I guess it was, I heard Thomas Jefferson holler out of his -chamber winder, (it was Friday night and the children was both to home,) -says he-- - -“You have preached long enough brothers on that text, I’ll put in a -seventhly for you.” And then I heard a brick fall. “You’ve protracted -your meetin’ here plenty long enough. You may adjourn now to somebody -else’s window and exhort them a spell.” And then I heard another brick -fall. “Now I wonder if you’ll come round on this circuit right away.” - -Thomas Jefferson’s room is right over ourn, and I raised up in the end of -the bed and hollered to him to “stop his noise.” But Josiah said, “do let -him be, do let him kill the old creeters, I am wore out.” - -Says I “Josiah I don’t mind his killin’ the cats, but I won’t have him -talkin about thier holdin’ a protracted meetin’ and preachin’, I won’t -have it,” says I. - -“Wall,” says he “do lay down, the most I care for is to get rid of the -cats.” - -Says I, “you do have wicked streaks Josiah, and the way you let that boy -go on is awful,” says I, “where do you think you will go to Josiah Allen?” - -Says he, “I shall go into another bed if you can’t stop talkin’. I have -been kept awake till midnight by them creeters, and now you want to -finish the night.” - -Josiah is a real even tempered man, but nothin’ makes him so kinder -fretful as to be kept awake by cats. And it is awful, awfully mysterious -too. For sometimes as you listen, you say mildly to yourself, how can a -animal so small give utterance to a noise so large, large enough for a -eliphant? Then sometimes agin as you listen, you will get encouraged, -thinkin’ that last yawl has really finished ’em and you think they are at -rest, and better off than they can be here in this world, utterin’ such -deathly and terrific shrieks, and you know _you_ are happier. So you -will be real encouraged, and begin to be sleepy, when they break out agin -all of a sudden, seemin’ to say up in a small fine voice, “We won’t go -home till mornin’” drawin’ out the “mornin’” in the most threatenin’ and -insultin’ manner. And then a great hoarse grum voice will take it up “_We -won’t Go Home till Mornin’_” and then they will spit fiercely, and shriek -out the appaulin’ words both together. It is discouragin’, and I couldn’t -deny it, so I lay down, and we both went to sleep. - -I hadn’t more’n got into a nap, when Josiah waked me up groanin’, and -says he, “them darned cats are at it agin.” - -“Well,” says I coolly, “you needn’t swear so, if they be.” I listened a -minute, and says I, “it haint cats.” - -Says he, “it is.” - -Says I, “Josiah Allen, I know better, it haint cats.” - -“Wall what is it,” says he “if it haint?” - -I sot up in the end of bed, and pushed back my night cap from my left ear -and listened, and says I, - -“It is a akordeun.” - -“How come a akordeun under our winder?” says he. - -Says I, “It is Shakespeare Bobbet seranadin’ Tirzah Ann, and he has got -under the wrong winder.” - -He leaped out of bed, and started for the door. - -Says I, “Josiah Allen come back here this minute,” says I, “do you -realize your condition? you haint dressed.” - -He siezed his hat from the bureau, and put it on his head, and went on. -Says I, “Josiah Allen if you go to the door in that condition, I’ll -prosicute you; what do you mean actin’ so to-night?” says I, “you was -young once yourself.” - -“I wuzzn’t a confounded fool if I was young,” says he. - -Says I, “come back to bed Josiah Allen, do you want to get the Bobbets’es -and the Dobbs’es mad at you?” - -“Yes I _do_,” he snapped out. - -“I should think you would be ashamed Josiah swearin’ and actin’ as you -have to-night,” and says I, “you will get your death cold standin’ there -without any clothes on, come back to bed this minute Josiah Allen.” - -[Illustration: THOMAS J. ADDRESSES THE SERENADER.] - -[Illustration: JOSIAH’S PROPOSED RAID.] - -It haint often I set up, but when I do, I will be minded; so finally he -took off his hat and come to bed, and there we had to lay and listen. -Not one word could Tirzah Ann hear, for her room was clear to the other -end of the house, and such a time as I had to keep Josiah in the bed. -The first he played was what they call an involuntary, and I confess it -did sound like a cat, before they get to spittin’, and tearin’ out fur, -you know they will go on kinder meloncholy. He went on in that way for a -length of time which I can’t set down with any kind of accuracy, Josiah -thinks it was about 2 hours and a half, I myself don’t believe it was -more than a quarter of an hour. Finally he broke out singin’ a tune the -chorus of which was, - - “Oh think of me--oh think of me.” - -“No danger of our not thinkin’ on you,” says Josiah, “no danger on it.” - -It was a long piece and he played and sung it in a slow, and affectin’ -manner. He then played and sung the follerin’: - - “Come! oh come with me Miss Allen, - The moon is beaming; - Oh Tirzah; come with me, - The stars are gleaming; - All around is bright, with beauty teeming, - Moonlight hours--in my opinion-- - Is the time for love. - - My skiff is by the shore, - She’s light, she’s free, - To ply the feathered oar Miss Allen, - Would be joy to me. - And as we glide along, - My song shall be, - (If you’ll excuse the liberty Tirzah) - I love but thee, I love but thee. - - Chorus--Tra la la Miss Tirzah, - Tra la la Miss Allen, - Tra la la, tra la la, - My dear young maid.” - -He then broke out into another piece, the chorus of which was, - - “Curb oh curb thy bosom’s pain - I’ll come again, I’ll come again.” - -“No you won’t,” says Josiah, “you won’t never get away, I _will_ get up -Samantha.” - -Says I, in low but awful accents, “Josiah Allen, if you make another -move, I’ll part with you,” says I, “it does beat all, how you keep actin’ -to-night; haint it as hard for me as it is for you? do you think it is -any comfort for me to lay here and hear it?” says I, “that is jest the -way with you men, you haint no more patience than nothin’ in the world, -you was young once yourself.” - -“Throw that in my face agin will you? what if I _wuz_! Oh do hear him go -on,” says he shakin’ his fist. “‘Curb oh curb thy bosom’s pain,’ if I was -out there my young feller, I would give you a pain you couldn’t curb so -easy, though it might not be in your bosom.” - -Says I “Josiah Allen, you have showed more wickedness to-night, than I -thought you had in you;” says I “would you like to have your pastur, and -Deacon Dobbs, and sister Graves hear your revengeful threats? if you was -layin’ helpless on a sick bed would you be throwin’ your arms about, and -shakin’ your fist in that way? it scares me to think a pardner of mine -should keep actin’ as you have,” says I “you have fell 25 cents in my -estimation to-night.” - -“Wall,” says he, “what comfort is there in his prowlin’ round here, -makin’ two old folks lay all night in perfect agony?” - -“It haint much after midnight, and if it was,” says I, in a deep and -majestic tone. “Do you calculate, Josiah Allen to go through life without -any trouble? if you do you will find yourself mistaken,” says I. “Do be -still.” - -“I _won’t_ be still Samantha.” - -Just then he begun a new piece, durin’ which the akordeun sounded the -most meloncholly and cast down it had yet, and his voice was solemn, and -affectin’. I never thought much of Shakespeare Bobbet. He is about Thomas -Jefferson’s age, his moustache is if possible thinner than his’en, should -say whiter, only that is a impossibility. He is jest the age when he -wants to be older, and when folks are willin’ he should, for you don’t -want to call him Mr. Bobbet and to call him “bub” as you always have, he -takes as a deadly insult. He thinks he is in love with Tirzah Ann, which -is jest as bad as long as it lasts as if he was; jest as painful to him -and to her. As I said he sung these words in a slow and affectin’ manner. - - When I think of thee, thou lovely dame, - I feel so weak and overcame, - That tears would burst from my eye-lid, - Did not my stern manhood forbid; - For Tirzah Ann, - I am a meloncholly man. - - I scorn my looks, what are fur hats - To such a wretch; or silk cravats; - My feelin’s prey to such extents, - Victuals are of no consequence. - Oh Tirzah Ann, - I am a meloncholly man. - - As _he_ waited on you from spellin’ school, - My anguish spurned all curb and rule, - My manhood cried, “be calm! forbear!” - Else I should have tore out my hair; - For Tirzah Ann, - I was a meloncholly man. - - As I walked behind, he little knew - What danger did his steps pursue; - I had no dagger to unsheath, - But fiercely did I grate my teeth; - For Tirzah Ann, - I was a meloncholly man. - - I’m wastin’ slow, my last year’s vests - Hang loose on me; my nightly rests - Are thin as gauze, and thoughts of you, - Gashes ’em wildly through and through, - Oh Tirzah Ann, - I am a meloncholly man. - - My heart is in such a burning state, - I feel it soon must conflagrate; - But ere I go to be a ghost, - What bliss--could’st thou tell me thou dost-- - Sweet Tirzah Ann-- - Think on this meloncholly man. - -He didn’t sing but one more piece after this. I don’t remember the words -for it was a long piece. Josiah insists that it was as long as Milton’s -Paradise Lost. - -Says I, “don’t be a fool Josiah, you never read it.” - -“I have hefted the book,” says he, “and know the size of it, and I know -it was as long if not longer.” - -Says I agin, in a cool collected manner, “don’t be a fool Josiah, there -wasn’t more than 25 or 30 verses at the outside.” That was when we was -talkin’ it over to the breakfast table this mornin’, but I confess it -did seem awful long there in the dead of the night; though I wouldn’t -encourage Josiah by sayin’ so, he loves the last word now, and I don’t -know what he would be if I encouraged him in it. I can’t remember the -words, as I said, but the chorus of each verse was - - Oh! I languish for thee, Oh! I languish for thee, wherever that I be, - Oh! Oh! Oh! I am languishin’ for thee, I am languishin’ for thee. - -As I said I never set much store by Shakespeare Bobbet, but truly -everybody has their strong pints; there was quavers put in there into -them “Oh’s” that never can be put in agin by anybody. Even Josiah lay -motionless listenin’ to ’em in a kind of awe. Jest then we heard Thomas -Jefferson speakin’ out of the winder overhead. - -“My musical young friend, haven’t you languished enough for one night? -Because if you have, father and mother and I, bein’ kept awake by other -serenaders the forepart of the night, will love to excuse you, will thank -you for your labers in our behalf, and love to bid you good evenin’, -Tirzah Ann bein’ fast asleep in the other end of the house. But don’t let -me hurry you Shakespeare, my dear young friend, if you haint languished -enough, you keep right on languishin’. I hope I haint hard hearted enough -to deny a young man and neighbor the privilege of languishin’.” - -I heard a sound of footsteps under the winder, followed seemin’ly -instantaneously by the rattlin’ of the board fence at the extremity of -the garden. Judgin’ from the sound, he must have got over the ground at a -rate seldom equaled and never outdone. - -A button was found under the winder in the mornin’, lost off we suppose -by the impassioned beats of a too ardent heart, and a too vehement pair -of lungs, exercised too much by the boldness and variety of the quavers -durin’ the last tune. That button and a few locks of Malta fur, is all we -have left to remind us of our sufferin’s. - -[Illustration] - - - - -4th OF JULY IN JONESVILLE. - - -A few days before the 4th Betsey Bobbet come into oure house in the -mornin’ and says she, - -“Have you heard the news?” - -“No,” says I pretty brief, for I was jest puttin’ in the ingrediences to -a six quart pan loaf of fruit cake, and on them occasions I want my mind -cool and unruffled. - -“Aspire Todd is goin’ to deliver the oration,” says she. - -“Aspire Todd! Who’s he?” says I cooly. - -“Josiah Allen’s wife,” says she, “have you forgotten the sweet poem that -thrilled us so in the Jonesville Gimlet a few weeks since?” - -“I haint been thrilled by no poem,” says I with an almost icy face -pourin’ in my melted butter. - -“Then it must be that you have never seen it, I have it in my port-money -and I will read it to you,” says she, not heedin’ the dark froun -gatherin’ on my eye-brow, and she begun to read, - - A questioning sail sent over the Mystic Sea. - - BY PROF. ASPIRE TODD. - - So the majestic thunder-bolt of feeling, - Out of our inner lives, our unseen beings flow, - Vague dreams revealing. - Oh, is it so? Alas! or no, - How be it, Ah! how so? - - Is matter going to rule the deathless mind? - What is matter? Is it indeed so? - Oh, truths combined; - Do the Magaloi theoi still tower to and fro? - How do they move? How flow? - - Monstrous, aeriform, phantoms sublime, - Come leer at me, and Cadmian teeth my soul gnaw, - Through chiliasms of time; - Transcendentaly and remorslessly gnaw; - By what agency? Is it a law? - - Perish the vacueus in huge immensities; - Hurl the broad thunder-bolt of feeling free, - The vision dies; - So lulls the bellowing surf, upon the mystic sea, - Is it indeed so? Alas! Oh me. - -“How this sweet poem appeals to tender hearts,” says Betsey as she -concluded it. - -“How it appeals to tender heads,” says I almost coldly, measurin’ out my -cinnamon in a big spoon. - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, has not your soul never sailed on that mystical sea -he so sweetly depictures?” - -“Not an inch,” says I firmly, “not an inch.” - -“Have you not never been haunted by sorrowful phantoms you would fain -bury in oblivion’s sea?” - -“Not once,” says I “not a phantom,” and says I as I measured out my -raisons and English currants, “if folks would work as I do, from mornin’ -till night and earn thier honest bread by the sweat of thier eyebrows, -they wouldn’t be tore so much by phantoms as they be; it is your -shiftless creeters that are always bein’ gored by phantoms, and havin’ -’em leer at ’em,” says I with my spectacles bent keenly on her, “Why -don’t they leer at me Betsey Bobbet?” - -“Because you are intellectually blind, you cannot see.” - -“I see enough,” says I, “I see more’n I want to a good deal of the time.” -In a dignified silence, I then chopped my raisons impressively and Betsey -started for home. - -The celebration was held in Josiah’s sugar bush, and I meant to be on the -ground in good season, for when I have jobs I dread, I am for takin’ ’em -by the forelock and grapplin’ with ’em at once. But as I was bakin’ my -last plum puddin’ and chicken pie, the folks begun to stream by, I hadn’t -no idee thier could be so many folks scairt up in Jonesville. I thought -to myself, I wonder if they’d flock out so to a prayer-meetin’. But they -kep’ a comin’, all kind of folks, in all kinds of vehicles, from a 6 -horse team, down to peacible lookin’ men and wimmen drawin’ baby wagons, -with two babies in most of ’em. - -There was a stagin’ built in most the middle of the grove for the -leadin’ men of Jonesville, and some board seats all round it for the -folks to set on. As Josiah owned the ground, he was invited to set upon -the stagin’. - -And as I glanced up at that man every little while through the day, I -thought proudly to myself, there may be nobler lookin’ men there, and men -that would weigh more by the steelyards, but there haint a whiter shirt -bosom there than Josiah Allen’s. - -When I got there the seats was full. Betsey Bobbet was jest ahead of me, -and says she, - -“Come on, Josiah Allen’s wife, let us have a seat, we can obtain one, -if we push and scramble enough.” As I looked upon her carryin’ out her -doctrine, pushin’ and scramblin’, I thought to myself, if I didn’t know -to the contrary, I never should take you for a modest dignifier and -retirer. And as I beheld her breathin’ hard, and her elboes wildly wavin’ -in the air, pushin’ in between native men of Jonesville and foreigners, -I again methought, I don’t believe you would be so sweaty and out of -breath a votin’ as you be now. And as I watched her labors and efforts -I continued to methink sadly, how strange! how strange! that retirin’ -modesty and delicacy can stand so firm in some situations, and then be so -quickly overthrowed in others seemin’ly not near so hard. - -[Illustration: THE FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION] - -Betsey finally got a seat, wedged in between a large healthy Irishman and -a native constable, and she motioned for me to come on, at the same time -pokin’ a respectable old gentleman in front of her, with her parasol, to -make him move along. Says I, - -“I may as well die one way as another, as well expier a standin’ up, as -in tryin’ to get a seat,” and I quietly leaned up against a hemlock tree -and composed myself for events. A man heard my words which I spoke about -½ to myself, and says he, - -“Take my seat, mum.” - -Says I “No! keep it.” - -Says he “I am jest comin’ down with a fit, I have got to leave the ground -instantly.” - -Says I “In them cases I will.” So I sot. His tongue seemed thick, and his -breath smelt of brandy, but I make no insinuations. - -About noon Prof. Aspire Todd walked slowly on to the ground, arm in arm -with the editor of the Gimlet, old Mr. Bobbet follerin’ him closely -behind. Countin’ 2 eyes to a person, and the exceptions are triflin’, -there was 700 and fifty or sixty eyes aimed at him as he walked through -the crowd. He was dressed in a new shinin’ suit of black, his complexion -was deathly, his hair was jest turned from white, and was combed straight -back from his forward and hung down long, over his coat coller. He had a -big moustache, about the color of his hair, only bearin’ a little more on -the sandy, and a couple of pale blue eyes with a pair of spectacles over -’em. - -As he walked upon the stagin’ behind the Editer of the Gimlet, the band -struck up, “Hail to the chief, that in trihump advances.” As soon as it -stopped playin’ the Editer of the Gimlet come forward and said-- - -“Fellow citizens of Jonesville and the adjacent and surroundin’ world, I -have the honor and privilege of presenting to you the orator of the day, -the noble and eloquent Prof. Aspire Todd Esq.” - -Prof. Todd came forward and made a low bow. - -“Bretheren and sisters of Jonesville,” says he; “Friends and patrons of -Liberty, in risin’ upon this aeroter, I have signified by that act, a -desire and a willingness to address you. I am not here fellow and sister -citizens, to outrage your feelings by triflin’ remarks, I am not here -male patrons of liberty to lead your noble, and you female patrons your -tender footsteps into the flowery fields of useless rhetorical eloquence; -I am here noble brothers and sisters of Jonesville not in a mephitical -manner, and I trust not in a mentorial, but to present a few plain -truths in a plain manner, for your consideration. My friends we are in -one sense but tennifolious blossoms of life; or, if you will pardon the -tergiversation, we are all but mineratin’ tennirosters, hovering upon an -illinition of mythoplasm.” - -“Jess so,” cried old Bobbet, who was settin’ on a bench right under the -speaker’s stand, with his fat red face lookin’ up shinin’ with pride and -enthusiasm, (and the brandy he had took to honor the old Revolutionary -heroes) “Jess so! so we be!” - -Prof. Todd looked down on him in a troubled kind of a way for a minute, -and then went on-- - -“Noble inhabitants of Jonesville and the rural districts, we are -actinolitic bein’s, each of our souls, like the acalphia, radiates a -circle of prismatic tentacles, showing the divine irridescent essence of -which composed are they.” - -“Jes’ so,” shouted old Bobbet louder than before. “Jes’ so, so they did, -I’ve always said so.” - -“And if we are content to moulder out our existence, like fibrous, -veticulated, polypus, clingin’ to the crustaceous courts of custom, if we -cling not like soarin’ prytanes to the phantoms that lower thier sceptres -down through the murky waves of retrogression, endeavorin’ to lure us -upward in the scale of progressive bein’--in what degree do we differ -from the accolphia?” - -“Jes’ so,” says old Bobbet, lookin’ defiantly round on the audience. -“There he has got you, how can they?” - -Prof. Todd stopped again, looked doun on Bobbet, and put his hand to his -brow in a wild kind of a way, for a minute, and then went on. - -“Let us, noble brethren in the broad field of humanity, let us rise, let -us prove that mind is superior to matter, let us prove ourselves superior -to the acalphia--” - -“Yes, less,” says old Bobbet, “less prove ourselves.” - -“Let us shame the actinia,” said the Professor. - -“Yes, jes’ so!” shouted old Bobbet, “less shame him!” and in his -enthusiasm he got up and hollered agin, “Less shame him.” - -Prof. Todd stopped stone still, his face red as blood, he drinked several -swallows of water, and then he whispered a few words to the Editer of the -Gimlet who immegiately come forward and said-- - -“Although it is a scene of touchin’ beauty, to see an old gentleman, and -a bald-headed one, so in love with eloquence, and to give such remarkable -proofs of it at his age, still as it is the request of my young -friend--and I am proud to say ‘my young friend’ in regard to one gifted -in so remarkable a degree--at his request I beg to be permitted to hint, -that if the bald-headed old gentleman in the linen coat can conceal his -admiration, and supress his applause, he will confer a favor on my gifted -young friend, and through him indirectly to Jonesville, to America, and -the great cause of humanity, throughout the length and breadth of the -country.” - -Here he made a low bow and sot down. Prof. Todd continued his piece -without any more interruption, till most the last, he wanted the public -of Jonesville to “dround black care in the deep waters of oblivion, mind -not her mad throes of dissolvin’ bein’, but let the deep waters cover her -black head, and march onward.” - -Then the old gentleman forgot himself, and sprang up and hollered-- - -“Yes! dround the black cat, hold her head under! What if she is mad! -don’t mind her screamin’! there will be cats enough left in the world! do -as he tells you to! less dround her!” - -Prof. Todd finished in a few words, and set doun lookin’ gloomy and -morbid. - -The next speaker was a large, healthy lookin’ man, who talked aginst -wimmin’s rights. He didn’t bring up no new arguments, but talked as -they all do who oppose ’em. About wimmin outragin’ and destroyin’ thier -modesty, by bein’ in the same street with a man once every ’lection day. -And he talked grand about how woman’s weakness arroused all the shivelry -and nobility of a man’s nature, and how it was his dearest and most -sacred privilege and happiness, to protect her from even a summer’s -breeze, if it dared to blow too hard on her beloved and delicate form. - -Why, before he had got half through, a stranger from another world who -had never seen a woman, wouldn’t have had the least idee that they was -made of clay as man was, but would have thought they was made of some -thin gauze, liable at any minute to blow away, and that man’s only -employment was to stand and watch ’em, for fear some zephyr would get -the advantage of ’em. He called wimmin every pretty name he could think -of, and says he, wavin’ his hands in the air in a rapped eloquence, and -beatin’ his breast in the same he cried, - -“Shall these weak, helpless angels, these seraphines, these sweet, -delicate, cooin’ doves--whose only mission it is to sweetly coo--these -rainbows, these posys vote? Never! my bretheren, never will we put such -hardships upon ’em.” - -As he sot down, he professed himself and all the rest of his sect ready -to die at any time, and in any way wimmin should say, rather than they -should vote, or have any other hardship. Betsey Bobbet wept aloud, she -was so delighted with it. - -Jest as they concluded thier frantic cheers over his speech, a thin, -feeble lookin’ woman come by where I stood, drawin’ a large baby wagon -with two children in it, seemin’ly a two-year-old, and a yearlin’. She -also carried one in her arms who was lame. She looked so beat out and so -ready to drop down, that I got up and give her my seat, and says I, - -“You look ready to fall down.” - -“Am I too late,” says she, “to hear my husband’s speech?” - -“Is that your husband,” says I, “that is laughin’ and talkin’ with that -pretty girl?” - -“Yes,” says she with a sort of troubled look. - -“Well, he jest finished.” - -She looked ready to cry, and as I took the lame child from her breakin’ -arms, says I-- - -“This is too hard for you.” - -“I wouldn’t mind gettin’ ’em on to the ground,” says she, “I haint had -only three miles to bring ’em, that wouldn’t be much if it wasn’t for the -work I had to do before I come.” - -“What did you have to do?” says I in pityin’ accents. - -“Oh, I had to fix him off, brush his clothes and black his boots, and -then I did up all my work, and then I had to go out and make six length -of fence--the cattle broke into the corn yesterday, and he was busy -writin’ his piece, and couldn’t fix it--and then I had to mend his coat,” -glancin’ at a thick coat in the wagon. “He didn’t know but he should want -it to wear home, he knew he was goin’ to make a great effort, and thought -he should sweat some, he is dreadful easy to take cold,” says she with a -worried look. - -“Why didn’t he help you along with the children?” says I, in a indignant -tone. - -“Oh, he said he had to make a great exertion to-day, and he wanted to -have his mind free and clear; he is one of the kind that can’t have their -minds trammeled.” - -“It would do him good to be trammeled--hard!” says I, lookin’ darkly on -him. - -“Don’t speak so of him,” says she beseechingly. - -“Are you satisfied with his doin’s?” says I, lookin’ keenly at her. - -“Oh yes,” says she in a trustin’ tone, liftin’ her care-worn, weary -countenance to mine, “oh yes, you don’t know how beautiful he can _talk_.” - -I said no more, for it is a invincible rule of my life, not to make no -disturbances in families. But I give the yearlin’ pretty near a pound of -candy on the spot, and the glances I cast on _him_ and the pretty girl he -was a flirtin’ with, was cold enough to freeze ’em both into a male and -female glazier. - -Lawyer Nugent now got up and said, “That whereas the speaking was -foreclosed, or in other words finished, he motioned they should adjourn -to the dinner table, as the fair committee had signified by a snowy -signal that fluttered like a dove of promise above waves of emerald, or -in plainer terms by a _towel_, that dinner was forthcoming; whereas he -motioned that they should adjourn _sine die_ to the aforesaid table.” - -Old Mr. Bobbet, and the Editer of the Gimlet seconded the motion at the -same time. And Shakespeare Bobbet wantin’ to do somethin’ in a public -way, got up and motioned “that they proceed to the table on the usial -road,” but there wasn’t any other way--only to wade the creek--that -didn’t seem to be necessary, but nobody took no notice of it, so it was -jest as well. - -[Illustration: WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DINNER] - -The dinner was good, but there was an awful crowd round the tables, and I -was glad I wore my old lawn dress, for the children was thick, and so was -bread and butter, and sass of all kinds, and jell tarts. And I hain’t no -shirk, I jest plunged right into the heat of the battle, as you may say, -waitin’ on the children, and the spots on my dress skirt would have been -too much for anybody that couldn’t count 40. To say nothin’ about old Mr. -Peedick steppin’ through the back breadth, and Betsey Bobbet ketchin’ -holt of me, and rippin’ it off the waist as much as ½ a yard. And then a -horse started up behind the widder Tubbs, as I was bendin’ down in front -of her to get somethin’ out of a basket, and she weighin’ above 200, was -precipitated onto my straw bonnet, jammin’ it down almost as flat as it -was before it was braided. I came off pretty well in other respects, only -about two yards of the ruflin’ of my black silk cape was tore by two boys -who got to fightin’ behind me, and bein’ blind with rage tore it off, -thinkin’ they had got holt of each other’s hair. There was a considerable -number of toasts drank, I can’t remember all of ’em, but among ’em was -these, - -“The eagle of Liberty; May her quills lengthen till the proud shadow of -her wings shall sweetly rest on every land.” - -“The 4th of July; the star which our old four fathers tore from the -ferocious mane of the howling lion of England, and set in the calm and -majestic brow of _E pluribus unum_. May it gleam with brighter and -brighter radience, till the lion shall hide his dazzled eyes, and cower -like a stricken lamb at the feet of _E pluribus_.” - -“Dr. Bombus our respected citizen; how he tenderly ushers us into a world -of trial, and professionally and scientifically assists us out of it. May -his troubles be as small as his morphine powders, and the circle of his -joys as well rounded as his pills.” - -“The press of Jonesville, the Gimlet, and the Augur; May they perforate -the crust of ignorance with a gigantic hole, through which blushing -civilization can sweetly peer into futurity.” - -“The fair sect: first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of -their countrymen. May them that love the aforesaid, flourish like a green -bayberry tree, whereas may them that hate them, dwindle down as near to -nothin’ as the bonnets of the aforesaid.” - -That piece of toast was Lawer Nugent’s. - -Prof. Aspire Todd’s was the last. - -“The Luminous Lamp of Progression, whose sciatherical shadows falling -upon earthly matter, not promoting sciolism, or Siccity, may it illumine -humanity as it tardigradely floats from matter’s aquius wastes, to minds -majestic and apyrous climes.” - -Shakspeare Bobbet then rose up, and says he, - -“Before we leave this joyous grove I have a poem which I was requested -to read to you, it is dedicated to the Goddess of Liberty, and was -transposed by another female, who modestly desires her name not to -be mentioned any further than the initials B. B.” He then read the -follerin’ spirited lines: - - Before all causes East or West, - I love the Liberty cause the best, - I love its cheerful greetings; - No joys on earth can e’er be found, - Like those pure pleasures that abound, - At Jonesville Liberty meetings. - - To all the world I give my hand, - My heart is with that noble band, - The Jonesville Liberty brothers; - May every land preserved be, - Each clime that dotes on Liberty-- - Jonesville before all others. - -The picknick never broke up till most night, I went home a little while -before it broke, and if there was a beat out creeter, I was; I jest -dropped my delapidated form into a rockin’ chair with a red cushien and -says I, - -“There needn’t be another word said, I will never go to another 4th as -long as my name is Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -“You haint patriotic enough Samantha,” says Josiah, “you don’t love your -country.” - -“What good has it done the nation to have me all tore to pieces?” says I, -“Look at my dress, look at my bonnet and cape, any one ought to be a iron -clad to stand it, look at my dishes!” says I. - -“I guess the old heroes of the Revolution went through more than that,” -says Josiah. - -“Well I haint a old hero!” says I coolly. - -“Well you can honor ’em can’t you?” - -“Honor ’em! Josiah Allen what good has it done to old Mr. Layfayette to -have my new earthern pie plates smashed to bits, and a couple of tines -broke off of one of my best forks? What good has it done to old Thomas -Jefferson, to have my lawn dress tore off of me by Betsey Bobbet? what -benefit has it been to John Adams, or Isaac Putnam to have old Peedick -step through it? what honor has it been to George Washington to have my -straw bonnet flatted down tight to my head? I am sick of this talk about -honorin’, and liberty and duty, I am sick of it,” says I “folks will make -a pack horse of duty, and ride it to circuses, and bull fights, if we -had ’em. You may talk about honorin’ the old heroes and goin’ through all -these performances to please ’em. But if they are in Heaven they can get -along without heerin’ the Jonesville brass band, and if they haint, they -are probably where fireworks haint much of a rarity to ’em.” - -Josiah quailed before my lofty tone and I relapsed into a weary and -delapidated silence. - -[Illustration: COUNTIN’ THE COST] - - - - -SIMON SLIMPSEY AND HIS MOURNFUL FOREBODIN’S. - - -Two or three weeks after this, Thomas Jefferson went to the school house -to meetin’ one Sunday night, and he broke out to the breakfast table the -next mornin’-- - -“Mother, I am sick of the Jews,” says he, “I should think the Jews had -a hard enough time a wanderin’ for 40 years, it seems to me if I was in -minister’s places I would let ’em rest a little while now, and go to -preachin’ to livin’ sinners, when the world is full of ’em. There was two -or three drunkards there last night, a thief, four hypocrites, and--” - -“One little conceited creeter that thinks he knows more than his old -minister,” says I in a rebukin’ tone. - -“Yes, I noticed Shakespeare Bobbet was there,” says he calmly. “But -wouldn’t it have been better, mother, to have preached to these livin’ -sinners that are goin to destruction round him, and that ought to be -chased up, and punched in the side with the Gospel, than to chase round -them old Jews for an hour and a half? Them old men deserve rest, and -ought to have it.” - -Says I, “Elder Wesley Minkley used ’em as a means of grace to carry his -hearers towards heaven.” - -Says Thomas, “I can go out in the woods alone, and lay doun and look up -to the sky, and get nearer to heaven, than I can by follerin’ up them old -dead Jews.” - -Says I in awful earnest tones, “Thomas Jefferson, you are gettin’ into a -dangerous path,” says I, “don’t let me hear another word of such talk; we -should all be willin’ to bear our crosses.” - -“I am willin’ to bear any reasonable cross, mother, but I hate to tackle -them old Jews and shoulder ’em, for there don’t seem to be any need of -it.” - -I put on about as cold a look onto my face as I could under the -circumstances, (I had been fryin’ buckwheat pancakes,) and Thomas J. -turned to his father-- - -“Betsey Bobbet talked in meetin’ last night after the sermon, father, she -said she knew that she was religious, because she felt that she loved the -bretheren.” - -Josiah laughed, the way he encourages that boy is awful, but I spoke in -almost frigid tones, as I passed him his 3d cup of coffee, - -“She meant it in a scriptural sense, of course.” - -“I guess you’d think she meant it in a earthly sense, if you had seen -her hang on to old Slimpsey last night, she’ll marry that old man yet, if -he don’t look out.” - -“Oh shaw!” says I coolly, “she is payin’ attention to the Editer of the -Augur.” - -“She’ll never get him,” says he; “she means to be on the safe side, and -get one or the other of ’em; how stiddy she has been to meetin’ sense old -Slimpsey moved into the place.” - -“You shall not make light of her religion, Thomas Jefferson,” says I, -pretty severely. - -“I won’t, mother, I shouldn’t feel right to, for it is light enough now, -it don’t all consist in talkin’ in meetin’, mother. I don’t believe -in folks’es usin’ up all their religion Sunday nights, and then goin’ -without any all the rest of the week, it looks as shiftless in ’em as -a three-year-old hat on a female. The religion that gets up on Sunday -nights, and then sets down all the rest of the week, I don’t think much -of.” - -Says I in a tone of deep rebuke, “Instead of tendin’ other folks’es -motes, Thomas Jefferson, you had better take care of your own beams, -you’ll have plenty work, enough to last you one spell.” - -“And if you have got through with your breakfast,” says his father, “you -had better go and fodder the cows.” - -Thomas J. arose with alacraty and went to the barn, and his father soon -drew on his boots and follered him, and with a pensive brow I turned out -my dishwater. I hadn’t got my dishes more than half done, when with no -warnin’ of no kind, the door bust open, and in tottered Simon Slimpsey, -pale as a piece of a white cotton shirt. I wildly wrung out my dishcloth, -and offered him a chair, sayin’ in a agitated tone, “What is the matter, -Simon Slimpsey?” - -“Am I pursued?” says he in a voice of low frenzy, as he sunk into a -wooden bottomed chair. I cast one or two eagle glances out of the window, -both ways, and replied in a voice of choked doun emotion, - -“There haint nobody in sight; has your life been attackted by burglers -and incindiarys? speak, Simon Slimpsey, speak!” - -He struggled nobly for calmness, but in vain, and then he put his hand -wildly to his brow, and murmured in low and hollow accents-- - -“Betsey Bobbet.” - -I see he was overcome by as many as six or seven different emotions -of various anguishes, and I give him pretty near a minute to recover -himself, and then says I as I sadly resumed my dishcloth, - -“What of her, Simon Slimpsey?” - -“She’ll be the death on me,” says he, “and that haint the worst on it, -my sole is jeopardized on account of her. Oh,” says he, groanin’ in -a anguish, “could you believe it, Miss Allen, that I--a member of a -Authodox church and the father of 13 small children--could be tempted to -swear? Behold that wretch. As I come through your gate jest now, I said -to myself ‘By Jupiter, I can’t stand it so, much longer.’ And last night -I wished I was a ghost, for I thought if I was a apperition I could have -escaped from her view. Oh,” says he, groanin’ agin, “I have got so low as -to wish I was a ghost.” - -He paused, and in a deep and almost broodin’ silence, I finished my -dishes, and hung up my dishpan. - -“She come rushin’ out of Deacon Gowdey’s, as I come by jest now, to talk -to me, she don’t give me no peace, last night she would walk tight to -my side all the way home, and she looked hungry at the gate, as I went -through and fastened it on the inside.” - -Agin he paused overcome by his emotions, and I looked pityingly on him. -He was a small boned man of about seventy summers and winters. He was -always a weak, feeble, helpless critter, a kind of a underlin’ always. -He never had any morals, he got out of morals when he was a young man, -and haint been able to get any sense. He has always drinked a good deal -of liquor, and has chawed so much tobacco that his mouth looks more -like a old yellow spitoon than anything else. As I looked sadly on him -I see that age, who had ploughed the wrinkles into his face, had turned -the furrows deep. The cruel fingers of time, or some other female, had -plucked nearly every hair from his head, and the ruthless hand of fate -had also seen fit to deprive him of his eye winkers, not one solitary -winker bein’ left for a shade tree (as it were) to protect the pale -pupils below; and they bein’ a light watery blue, and the lids bein’ -inflamed, they looked sad indeed. Owin’ to afflictive providences he was -dressed up more than men generally be, for his neck bein’ badly swelled -he wore a string of amber beads, and in behalf of his sore eyes he wore -ear rings. But truly outside splendor and glitter won’t satisfy the mind, -and bring happiness. I looked upon his mournful face, and my heart melted -inside of me, almost as soft as it could, almost as soft as butter in the -month of August. And I said to him in a soothin’ and encouragin’ tone, - -“Mebby she will marry the Editer of the Augur, she is payin’ attention to -him.” - -[Illustration: SIMON SLIMPSEY.] - -“No she won’t,” says he in a solemn and affectin’ way, that brought -tears to my eyes as I sot peelin’ my onions for dinner. “No she won’t, -I shall be the one, I feel it. I was always the victim, I was always -down trodden. When I was a baby my mother had two twins, both of ’em -a little older than me, and they almost tore me to pieces before I got -into trowses. Mebby it would have been better for me if they had,” says -he in a mewsin’ and mournful tone--I knew he thought of Betsey then--and -heavin’ a deep sigh he resumed, - -“When I went to school and we played leap frog, if there was a frog -to be squshed down under all the rest, I was that frog. It has always -been so--if there was ever a underlin’ and a victim wanted, I was that -underlin’ and that victim. And Betsey Bobbet will get round me yet, you -see if she don’t, wimmen are awful perseverin’ in such things.” - -“Cheer up Simon Slimpsey, you haint obleeged to marry her, it is a free -country, folks haint obleeged to marry unless they are a mind to, it -don’t take a brass band to make that legal.” I quoted these words in a -light and joyous manner hopin’ to rouse him from his dispondancy, but in -vain, for he only repeated in a gloomy tone, - -“She’ll get round me yet, Miss Allen, I feel it.” And as the dark shade -deepened on his eye brow he said, - -“Have you seen her verses in the last week’s Augur?” - -“No,” says I “I haint.” - -In a silent and hopeless way, he took the paper out of his pocket and -handed it to me and I read as follers:-- - - A SONG. - - Composed not for the strong minded females, who madly and - indecently insist on rights, but for the retiring and delicate - minded of the sex, who modestly murmer, “we will not have any - rights, we scorn them.” Will some modest and bashful sisteh set - it to music, that we may timidly, but loudly warble it; and - oblige, hers ’till deth, in the glorious cause of wimmen’s only - true speah. - - BETSEY BOBBET. - - Not for strong minded wimmen, - Do I now tune up my liah; - Oh, not for them would I kin- - dle up the sacred fiah. - Oh, modest, bashful female, - For you I tune up my lay; - Although strong minded wimmen sneah, - We’ll conqueh in the fray. - CHORUS.--Press onward, do not feah, sistehs, - Press onward, do not feah; - Remembeh wimmen’s speah, sistehs, - Remembeh wimmen’s speah. - - It would cause some fun if poor Miss Wade - Should say of her boy Harry, - I shall not give him any trade, - But bring him up to marry; - And would cause some fun, of course deah maids, - If Miss Wades’es Harry, - Should lose his end and aim in life, - And find no chance to marry. - CHORUS.--Press onward, do not feah, sistehs, &c. - - Yes, wedlock is our only hope, - All o’er this mighty nation; - Men are brought up to other trades, - But this is our vocation. - Oh, not for sense or love, ask we; - We ask not to be courted, - Our watch-word is to married be, - That we may be supported. - CHORUS.--Press onward, do not feah, sistehs, &c. - - Say not, you’re strong and love to work; - Are healthier than your brotheh, - Who for a blacksmith is designed; - Such feelin’s you must smotheh; - Your restless hands fold up, or gripe - Your waist into a span, - And spend your strength in looking out - To hail the coming man. - CHORUS.--Press onward, do not feah, sistehs, &c. - - Oh, do not be discouraged, when - You find your hopes brought down; - And when you meet unwilling men, - Heed not their gloomy frown, - Yield not to wild dispaih; - Press on and give no quartah, - In battle all is faih; - We’ll win for we had orteh. - CHORUS.--Press onward, do not feah, sistehs, - Press onward do not feah, - Remembeh wimmen’s speah, sisters, - Remembeh wimmen’s speah. - -“Wall,” says I in a encouragin’ tone, “that haint much different from the -piece she printid a week or two ago, that was about woman’s spear.” - -“It is that spear that is a goin’ to destroy me,” says he mournfully, - -“Don’t give up so, Simon Slimpsey, I hate to see you lookin’ so gloomy -and depressted.” - -“It is the awful detarmination these lines breathe forth that appauls me,” -says he. “I have seen it in another. Betsey Bobbet reminds me dreadfully -of another. And I don’t want to marry again Miss Allen, I don’t want to,” -says he lookin’ me pitifully in the face, “I didn’t want to marry the -first time, I wanted to be a bachelder, I think they have the easiest -time of it, by half. Now there is a friend of mine, that never was -married, he is jest my age, or that is, he is only half an hour younger, -and that haint enough difference to make any account of, is it Miss -Allen?” says he in a pensive, and enquirin’ tone. - -“No,” says I in a reasonable accent. “No, Simon Slimpsey, it haint.” - -“Wall that man has always been a bachelder, and you ought to see what -a head of hair he has got, sound at the roots now, not a lock missing. -I wanted to be one, she, my late wife, came and kept house for me and -married me. I lived with her for 18 years, and when she left me,” he -murmured with a contented look, “I was reconciled to it. I was reconciled -for sometime before it took place. I don’t want to say anything against -nobody that haint here, but I lost some hair by my late wife,” says -he puttin’ his hand to his bald head in a abstracted way, as gloomy -reflections crowded onto him, “I lost a good deal of hair by her, and I -haint much left as you can see,” says he in a meloncholy way “I did want -to save a lock or two for my children to keep, as a relict of me. I have -13 children as you know, countin’ each pair of twins as two, and it would -take a considerable number of hairs to go round.” Agin he paused overcome -by his feelin’s, I knew not what to say to comfort him, and I poured onto -him a few comfortin’ adjectives. - -“Mebby you are borrowin’ trouble without a cause Simon Slimpsey! with -life there is hope! it is always the darkest before daylight.” But in -vain. He only sighed mournfully. - -[Illustration: SIMON OVERCOME.] - -“She’ll get round me yet Miss Allen, mark my words, and when the time -comes you will think of what I told you.” His face was most black with -gloomy aprehension, as he reflected agin. “You see if she don’t get round -me!” and a tear began to flow. - -I turned away with instinctive delicacy and sot my pan of onions in the -sink, but when I glanced at him agin it was still flowin’. And I said to -him in a tone of about two thirds pity and one comfort, - -“Chirk up, Simon Slimpsey, be a man.” - -“That is the trouble,” says he “if I wasn’t a man, she would give me some -peace.” And he wept into his red silk handkerchief (with a yellow border) -bitterly. - - - - -FREE LOVE LECTURES. - - -It was a beautiful mornin’ in October. The trees in the woods nigh by, -had all got their new fall suits on, red and purple and orange, while -further back, the old hills seemed to be a settin’ up with a blue gauze -vail on. There was a little mite of a breeze blowin’ up through the -orchard, where the apples lay in red and yellow heaps in the green grass. -Everything looked so beautiful and fresh, that as I went out on the -doorstep to shake the table-cloth, my heart fairly sung for joy. And I -exclaimed to Josiah in clear, happy tones, - -“What a day it is, Josiah, to gather the winter apples and pull the -beets.” - -He says, “Yes, Samantha, and after you get your work done up, don’t you -s’pose you could come out and pick up apples a spell?” - -I told him in the same cheerful tones I had formally used, “that I would, -and that I would hurry up my dishes as fast as I could, and come out.” - -But alas! how little do we know what trial a hour may bring forth; this -hour brought forth Betsey Bobbet. As I went to the door to throw out -my dishwater, I see her comin’ through the gate. I controlled myself -pretty well, and met her with considerable calmness. She was in awful -good spirits. There had been a lecture on Free Love to Jonesville; Prof. -Theron Gusher had been a lecturin’ there, and Betsey had attended to it, -and was all full of the idee. She begun almost before she sot down, and -says she, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife you can’t imagine what new and glorious and soaring -ideahs that man has got into his head.” - -“Let him soar,” says I coldly, “it don’t hurt me.” - -Says she, “He is too soaring a soul to be into this cold unsympathizing -earth, he ought by good right to be in a warmeh speah.” - -Says I coldly, and almost frigidly, “From what I have heard of his -lecture I think so too, a good deal warmer.” - -Says she, “He was to our house yesterday, he said he felt dreadful -drawed to me, a kind of a holy drawing you know, I neveh saw such a -saintly, heavenly minded man in my life. Why he got into such a spirutal -state--when motheh went out of the room a minute--he kissed me moah than -a dozen times; that man is moah than half a angel, Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -I gave her a look that pierced like sheet lightnin’ through her tow -frizzles and went as much as half through her brain. - -“Haint Theron Gusher a married man?” - -“Oh yes, some.” - -“Some!” I repeated in a cold accent, “He is either married or he haint -married one or the other,” and again I repeated coldly “is he a married -man Betsey?” - -“Oh yes, he has been married a few times, or what the cold world calls -marrying--he has got a wife now, but I do not believe he has found his -affinity yet, though he has got several bills of divorcement from various -different wimmen trying to find her. That _may_ be his business to -Jonesville, but it does not become me to speak of it.” - -Says I “Betsey Bobbet!” and I spoke in a real solemn camp meetin’ tone, -for I was talkin’ on deep principle; says I, “you say he is a married -man--and now to say nothin’ of your own modesty if you have got any and -stand up onto clear principle, how would you like to have your husband if -you had one, round kissin’ other wimmen?” - -“Oh,” says she, “His wife will neveh know it, neveh!” - -“If it is such a pious, heavenly, thing, why not tell her of it?” - -“Oh Prof. Gusheh says that some natures are too gross and earthly to -comprehend how souls can meet, scorning and forgetting utterly those -vile, low, clay bodies of ours. He does not think much of these clay -bodies anyway.” - -“These clay bodies are the best we have got,” says I, “And we have got -to stay in ’em till we die, and the Lord tells us to keep ’em pure, so -he can come and visit us in ’em. I don’t believe the Lord thinks much of -these holy drawin’s. I know I don’t.” - -Betsey sot silently twistin’ her otter colored bonnet strings, and I went -on, for I felt it was my duty. - -“Married men are jest as good as them that haint married for lots of -purposes, such as talkin’ with on the subject of religeon, and polytix -and miscelanious subjects, and helpin’ you out of a double wagon, and -etcetery. But when it comes to kissin’, marryin’ spiles men in my opinion -for kissin’ any other woman only jest their own wives.” - -“But suppose a man has a mere clay wife?” says Betsey. - -Says I, “Betsey, Josiah Allen was goin’ to buy a horse the other day that -the man said was a 3 year old; he found by lookin’ at her teeth that she -was pretty near 40; Josiah didn’t buy it. If a man don’t want to marry a -clay woman, let him try to find one that haint clay. I think myself that -he will have a hard time to find one, but he has a perfect right to hunt -as long as he is a mind to--let him,” says I in a liberal tone. “Let him -hire a horse and sulkey, and search the country over and over. I don’t -care if he is 20 years a huntin’ and comparin’ wimmin a tryin’ to find -one to suit him. But when he once makes up his mind, I say let him stand -by his bargain, and make the best of it, and not try afterwards to look -at her teeth.” - -Betsey still sot silently twistin’ her bunnet strings, but I see that she -was a mewsin’ on some thought of her own, and in a minute or so she broke -out: “Oh, what a soaring sole Prof. Gusheh is; he soared in his lecture -to that extent that it seemed as if he would lift me right up, and carry -me off.” - -For a minute I thought of Theron Gusher with respect, and then agin my -eye fell sadly upon Betsey, and she went on, - -“I came right home and wrote a poem on the subject, and I will read it to -you.” And before I could say a word to help myself, she begun to read. - - Him of the Free Love Republic. - - BY BETSEY BOBBET. - - If females had the spunk of a mice, - From man, their foeman they would arise, - Their darning needles to infamy send-- - Their dish cloth fetters nobly rend, - From tyrant man would rise and flee; - Thus boldly whispered Betsey B. - CHORUS.--Females, have you a mice’s will, - You will rise up and get a bill. - - But sweeter, sweeter, ’tis to see, - When man hain’t found affinitee, - But wedded unto lumps of clay, - To boldly rise and soar away. - Ah! ’tis a glorious sight to see; - Thus boldly murmured Betsey B. - CHORUS.--Male men, have you a mice’s will, - You will rise up and get a bill. - - Haste golden year, when all are free - To hunt for their affinitee; - When wedlock’s gate opens to all, - The halt, the lame, the great, the small. - Ah! blissful houh may these eyes see-- - These wishful eyes of Betsey B. - CHORUS.--Males! females! with a mice’s will, - Rise up! rise up! and get a bill. - - For that will hasten on that day-- - That blissful time when none can say, - Scornful, “I am moah married than thee!” - For _all_ will be married, and all _won’t be_; - But promiscous like. Oh! shall I see - That _blessed_ time, sighed Betsey B.-- - CHORUS.--Yes, if folks will have a mice’s will - And will rise up and get a bill. - -“You see it repeats some,” says Betsey as she finished readin’. “But -Prof. Gusheh wanted me to write a him to sing at thier Free Love -conventions, and he wanted a chorus to each verse, a sort of a war-cry, -that all could join in and help sing, and he says these soul stirrin’ -lines: - - ‘Have you a mice’s will, - You will rise up and get a bill;’ - -have got the true ring to them. I had to kind o’ speak against men in it. -I hated too, awfully, but Prof. Gusheh said it would be necessary, in -ordeh to rouse the masses. He says the almost withering sarcasm of this -noble song is just what they need. He says it will go down to posterity -side by side with Yankee Doodle, if not ahead of it. I know by his -countenance that he thought it was superior to Mr. Doodle’s him. But what -think you of it, Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -“I think,” says I in a cautious tone, “that it is about off’n’ a piece -with the subject.” - -“Don’t you think Josiah Allen’s wife that it would be real sweet to get -bills from men. It is a glorious doctrine for wimmen, so freein’ and -liberatin’ to them.” - -“Sweet!” says I hautily “it would be a pretty world wouldn’t it Betsey -Bobbet, if every time a woman forgot to put a button onto a shirt, her -husband would start up and say she wasn’t his affinitee, and go to -huntin’ of her up, or every time his collar choked him.” - -“Oh, but wimmen could hunt too!” - -“Who would take care of the children, if they was both a huntin’?” says I -sternly, “it would be a hard time for the poor little innocents, if there -father and mother was both of ’em off a huntin’.” - -Before I could free my mind any further about Prof. Gusher and his -doctrine, I had a whole houseful of company come, and Betsey departed. -But before she went she told me that Prof. Gusher had heard that I was -in faver of wimmen’s rights and he was comin’ to see me before he left -Jonesville. - -The next day he came. Josiah was to the barn a thrashin’ beans, but I -received him with a calm dignity. He was a harmless lookin’ little man, -with his hair combed and oiled as smooth as a lookin’ glass. He had on a -bell-crouned hat which he lifted from his head with a smile as I come to -the door. He wore a plad jacket, and round his neck and hangin’ doun his -bosom was a bright satten scarf into which he had stuck 2 big headed pins -with a chain hitched onto each of ’em, and he had a book under his arm. -He says to me most the first thing after he sot down, - -“You believe in wimmin havin’ a right don’t you?” - -[Illustration: PROFESSOR GUSHER.] - -“Yes Sir,” says I keenly lookin’ up from my knitin’ work. “Jest as many -rights as she can get holt of, rights never hurt any body yet.” - -“Worthy statements,” says he. “And you believe in Free Love, do you not?” - -“How free?” says I cooly. - -“Free to marry any body you want to, and as long as you want to, from -half a day, up to 5 years or so.” - -“No Sir!” says I sternly, “I believe in rights, but I don’t believe in -wrongs, of all the miserable doctrines that was ever let loose on the -world, the doctrine of Free Love is the miserable’st. Free Love!” I -repeated in indignant tones, “it ought to be called free devlitry, that -is the right name for it.” - -He sunk right back in his chair, put his hand wildly to his brow and -exclaimed, - -“My soul aches, I thought I had found a congenial spirit, but I am -decieved, my breast aches, and siths, and pants.” He looked so awful -distressed, that I didn’t know what did ail him, and I looked pityin’ -on him from over my spectacles and I says to him jest as I would to our -Thomas Jefferson, - -“Mebby your vest is too tight.” - -“Vest!” he repeated in wild tones, “would I had no worse trammels than -store clothes, but it is the fate of reformers to be misunderstood. Woman -the pain is deeper and it is a gnawin’ me.” - -His eyes was kinder rolled, and he looked so wilted and uncomfortable, -that I says to him in still more pityin’ accents, - -“Haint you got wind on your stummuck, for if you have, peppermint essence -is the best stuff you can take, and I will get you some.” - -“Wind!” he almost shouted, “wind! no, it is not wind,” he spoke so -deleriously that he almost skairt me, but I kep’ up my placid demeaner, -and kep’ on knittin’. - -“Wimmen,” said he, “I would right the wrongs of your sect if I could. I -bear in my heart the woes and pains of all the aching female hearts of -the 19 centurys.” - -My knittin’ dropped into my lap, and I looked up at him in surprise, and -I says to him respectfully, - -“No wonder you groan and sithe, it must hurt awfully.” - -“It does hurt,” says he, “but it hurts a sensitive spirit worse to have -it mistook for wind.” - -He see my softened face, and he took advantage of it, and went on. - -“Woman, you have been married, you say, goin’ on 15 years; hain’t you -never felt slavish in that time, and felt that you would gladly unbind -yourself?” - -“Never!” says I firmly, “never! I don’t want to be unbound.” - -“Hain’t you never had longings, and yearnings to be free?” - -“Not a yearn,” says I calmly, “not a yearn. If I had wanted to remain -free I shouldn’t have give my heart and hand to Josiah Allen. I didn’t do -it deleriously, I had my senses.” Says I, “you can’t set down and stand -up at the same time, each situation has its advantages, but you can’t be -in both places at once, and this tryin’ to, is what makes so much trouble -amongst men and wimmen. They want the rights and advantages of both -stations to once--they want to set down and stand up at the same time, -and it can’t be did. Men and wimmen hain’t married at the pint of the -bayonet, they go into it with both their eyes open. If anybody thinks -they are happier, and freer from care without bein’ married, nobody -compels ’em to be married, but if they are, they hadn’t ought to want to -be married and single at the same time, it is onreasonable.” - -He looked some convinced, and I went on in a softer tone, - -“I hain’t a goin’ to say that Josiah hain’t been tryin’ a good many -times. He has raved round some, when dinner wasn’t ready, and gone in -his stockin’ feet considerable, and been slack about kindlin’ wood. -Likewise I have my failin’s. I presume I hain’t done always exactly as I -should about shirt buttons, mebby I have scolded more’n I ort to about -his keepin’ geese. But if men and wimmen think they are marryin’ angels, -they’ll find out they’ll have to settle down and keep house with human -critters. I never see a year yet, that didn’t have more or less winter -in it, but what does it say, ‘for better, for worse,’ and if it turns -out more worse than better, why that don’t part us, for what else does -it say? ‘Till death does us part,’ and what is your little slip of paper -that you call a bill to that? Is that death?” says I. - -He quailed silently, and I proceeded on. - -“I wouldn’t give a cent for your bills, I had jest as lives walk up -and marry any married man, as to marry a man with a bill. I had jest -as lives,” says I warmin’ with my subject, “I had jest as lives join a -Mormon at once. How should I feel, to know there was another woman loose -in the world, liable to walk in here any minute and look at Josiah, and -to know all that separated ’em was a little slip of paper about an inch -wide?” - -My voice was loud and excited, for I felt deeply what I said, and says he -in soothin’ tones, - -“I presume that you and your husband are congenial spirits, but what do -you think of soarin’ soles, that find out when it is too late that they -are wedded to mere lumps of clay.” - -I hadn’t fully recovered from my excited frame of mind, and I replied -warmly, “I never see a man yet that wasn’t more or less clay, and to tell -you the truth I think jest as much of these clay men as I do of these -soarers, I never had any opinion of soarers at all.” - -He sank back in his chair and sithed, for I had touched him in a tender -place, but still clinging to his free love doctrine, he murmered faintly, - -“Some wimmen are knocked down by some men, and dragged out.” - -His meek tones touched my feelin’s, and I continued in more reasonable -accents. - -“Mebby if I was married to a man that knocked me down and dragged me out -frequently, I would leave him a spell, but not one cent would I invest in -another man, not a cent. I would live alone till he came to his senses, -if he ever did, and if he didn’t, why when the great roll is called over -above, I would answer to the name I took when I loved him and married -him, hopin’ his old love would come back again there, and we would have -all eternity to keep house in.” - -He looked so depressted, as he sot leanin’ back in his chair, that I -thought I had convinced him, and he was sick of his business, and I asked -him in a helpful way, - -“Hain’t there no other business you can get into, besides preachin’ up -Free Love? Hain’t there no better business? Hain’t there no cornfields -where you could hire out for a scare-crow--can’t you get to be United -States Senator? Hain’t there no other mean job not quite so mean as this, -you could get into?” - -He didn’t seem to take it friendly in me, you know friendly advice makes -some folks mad. He spoke out kinder surly and says he, “I hain’t done no -hurt, I only want everybody to find their affinitee.” - -That riled up the blood in me, and says I with spirit, - -“Say that word to me agin if you dare.” Says I “of all the mean words a -married woman ever listened to, that is the meanest,” says I “if you say -“affinitee” here in my house, agin, young man, I will holler to Josiah.” - -He see I was in earnest and deeply indignent, and he ketched up his hat -and cane, and started off, and glad enough was I to see him go. - - - - -ELDER WESLEY MINKLE’S DONATION PARTY. - - -About four weeks afterwards, I had got my kitchen mopped out, clean as a -pin and everything in perfect order and the dinner started, (I was goin’ -to have beef steak and rice puddin’,) and then I took a bowl of raisons -and sot doun to stun ’em, for I was goin’ to bake a plum cake for supper. -I will have good vittles as long as my name is Josiah Allen’s wife. And -it haint only on my own account that I do it, but I do it as I have -observed before, from deep and almost cast iron principle. For as the -greatest of philosiphers have discovered, if a woman would keep her table -spread out from year to year, and from hour to hour, filled with good -vittles, that woman would have a clever set of men folks round. - -As I sot serenely stunnin’ my raisons, not dreamin’ of no trouble, I -heard a rap at the door, and in walked Betsey Bobbet. I see she looked -kinder curious, but I didn’t say nothin’, only I asked her to take off -her things. She complied, and as she took out her tattin’ and begun to -tat, says she-- - -“I have come to crave your advise, Josiah Allen’s wife. I am afraid I -have been remissin’ in my duty. Martin Farquar Tupper is one of the most -sweetest poets of the ages. My sentiments have always blended in with his -beautiful sentiments, I have always flew with his flights, and soahed -with his soahs. And last night afteh I had retiahed to bed, one of his -sublime ideahs come to me with a poweh I neveh befoah felt. It knocked -the bolted doah of my heart open, and said in low and hollow tones as it -entered in, ‘Betsey Bobbet, you have not nevah done it.’” - -Betsey stopped a minute here for me to look surprised and wonderin’, but -I didn’t, I stunned my raisons with a calm countenance, and she resumed-- - -“Deah Tuppah remarks that if anybody is goin’ to be married, thier future -companion is upon the earth somewhere at the present time, though they -may not have met him or her. And he says it is our duty to pray for that -future consort. And Josiah Allen’s wife, I have not neveh done it.” - -She looked agonized, as she repeated to me, “Josiah Allen’s wife, I have -neveh preyed for him a word. I feel condemned; would you begin now?” - -Says I coolly, “Are you goin’ to prey _for_ a husband, or _about_ one?” - -Says she mournfully, “A little of both.” - -“Wall,” says I in a cautious way, “I don’t know as it would do any hurt, -Betsey.” - -Says she, “I will begin to prey to-night. But that is not all I wished to -crave your advise about. Folks must work as well as prey. Heaven helps -them that help themselves. I am goin’ to take a decided stand.” Then she -broke off kinder sudden, and says she, “Be you a goin’ to the Faih and -Donation to the Methodist church to-morrow night?” - -“Yes,” says I, “I am a layin’ out to go.” - -“Well, Josiah Allen’s wife, will you stand by me? There is not another -female woman in Jonesville that I have the firm unwaverin’ confidence in, -that I have in you. You always bring about whateveh you set youh hands to -do--and I want to know, will you stand by me to-morrow night?” - -Says I in a still more cautious tone “what undertakin’ have you got into -your head now, Betsey Bobbet?” - -“I am going to encourage the Editah of the Augah. That man needs a -companion. Men are bashful and offish, and do not always know what is the -best for them. I have seen horses hang back on the harness before now, I -have seen geese that would not walk up to be picked. I have seen children -hang back from pikery. The horses ought to be made to go! The geese ought -to be held and picked! The children ought to take the pikery if you have -to hold thieh noses to make them. The Editah of the Augah _needs_ a -companion, I am going to encourage that man to-morrer night and I want -to know Josiah Allen’s wife if you will stand by me.” - -I answered her in reasonable tones. “You know Betsey that I can’t run, I -am too fat, and then I am gettin’ too old. Mebby I might walk up and help -you corner him, but you know I can’t run for anybody.” - -Jest then Josiah came in and the conversation dropped down viz: on the -fare. Says Josiah, says he, “Brother Wesley Minkley is a honest, pure -minded man and I shall go, and shall give accordin’ to my ability, but I -don’t believe in ’em, I don’t believe in doin’ so much for ministers. The -bible says let them live on the gospel; why don’t they? The old ’postles -wasn’t always havin’ donations and fares to get up money for ’em, and big -sallerys. Why don’t they live like the ’postles?” - -[Illustration: LIVIN’ ON GOSPEL.] - -Says I, “Josiah Allen you try to live on clear gospel a spell, and see -if your stommack wouldn’t feel kinder empty.” Says I, “The bible says the -‘Laborer is worthy of his hire.’” Says I, “folks are willin’ to pay their -doctors and lawyers, and druggers, and their tin-peddlers, and every body -else only ministers, and if any body has a slave’s life, it is a good -conscientious minister.” Says I, “Brother Wesley Minkley works like a -dog.” - -“I don’t deny it,” says Josiah, “but why don’t he live like the ’postle -Paul?” - -Says I, “the ’postle Paul didn’t have to buy 40 or 50 yards of merymac -callico and factory cloth every year. He didn’t have to buy cradles and -cribs, and soothin’ syrup, for he didn’t have any babys to be cribbed -and soothed. He didn’t have to buy bunnets, and gographys, and prunella -gaters, and back combs, and hair pins, and etcetery, etcetery. He didn’t -have a wife and seven daughters and one son, as Brother Wesley Minkley -has got.” Says I, almost warmly, “Every other man, only jest ministers, -has a hope of layin’ up a little somethin’ for their children, but _they_ -don’t think of doin’ that, all _they_ expect is to keep ’em alive and -covered up,” and says I, “The congregation they almost slave themselves -to death for, begrech that, and will jaw too if they hain’t covered up, -and dressed up slick. Sister Minkley wants her girls to look as well as -the rest of the girls in the Church.” Says I, “The ’postle Paul wasn’t -a mother, Josiah, not that I have anything against him,” says I more -mildly. - -The conversation was interupted here by Shakespeare Bobbet comin’ after -Betsey, they had company. Betsey returned with him, but her last words to -me was, in a low awful voice, - -“Will you stand by me Josiah Allen’s wife?” I sithed, and told her in a -kind of a bland way, “I would see about it.” - -The donatin and fare occured Wednesday night, and Josiah and me went -early, Thomas J. and Tirzah Ann bein’ off to school. And I carried as much -and as good as anybody there, though I say it that shouldn’t. I carried -as good vittles too as there was and I didn’t scrimp in quantity neither. - -We was a layin’ out to carry ’em half a barrel of pork, and I made a -big jar of butter and sold it, and got the money for it, five dollars, -and I atted Josiah to sell the pork and get the money for that. Says I, -“Brother Minkley and his wife have both come to years of understandin’, -and it stands to reason that they both know what they want better than we -do, and money will buy anything.” - -Josiah kinder hung back, but I carried the day. And so we carried 15 -dollars in a envelop, and told sister Minkley to open it after we got -home. I didn’t want ’em to thank us for it--it makes me feel just as -mean as pusley. But some folks carried the litlest things. There was a -family of 7 hearty men and women, and all they carried was a book mark -out of perforated paper, and a plate of cookeys. There was 7 book marks, -for I counted ’em, and 14 pair of slips for the minister’s only boy, who -is home from school. And this same young man, Whitfield Minkley, had 24 -neck ties. Of course there was some other things, a few sassige or so, a -little flour, and some dried blackberrys. - -But it does beat all what simple things some folks will carry. -Shakespeare Bobbet carried the minister a pair of spurs. Thinks I to -myself, “What is he goin’ to use ’em on, the saw horse or the front -gate?” For they have kep’ him doun so low, that he is too poor to own any -other steeds. - -And Betsey Bobbet brought him a poem of hers all flowered off round the -edges, and trimmed with pink ribbon. I haint nothin’ aginst poetry, but -with a big family like Brother Minkley’s, it did seem to me that there -was other things that would be more nourishin’ and go further. - -After we had left our vittles in the procession room where we was goin’ -to eat, I marched into the meetin’ house room which was full of folks, -and Brother Minkley came up to talk with me. I felt low spirited, for -Betsey’s design wore on me. And when Brother Minkley took my hand in -his’en, and shook it in the purest and most innocent manner, and said, -“Sister Allen, what is the matter? are you havin’ a xercise in your -mind?” - -Says I to him, “Yes, Brother Minkley, I be.” - -I turned the subject quickly then, for I abhor hippocrites, and I -felt that I was a deceivin’ him. For whereas he thought I was havin’ -a religous xcercise performin’ in my mind, I was not; it was Betsey -Bobbet’s design that was a wearin’ on me. So I waved off the subject -quickly, though I knew that like as not he would think I was a -backslidin’ and was afraid he would ketch me at it. Thinks’es I, better -let him think I am a slidin’ back, I can endure false importations better -than I can let myself out for a hyppocrite. I waved off the subject and -says I, - -“That was a beautiful sermon of yours last Sunday, Brother Minkley.” - -“You mean that from the text ‘He overthrew the tables of the money -changers,’ and so forth; I am glad it pleased you, sister Allen. I -meant to hit a blow at gamblin’ that would stagger it, for gamblin’ is -a prevailin’ to a alarmin’ extent.” And then says he, plantin’ himself -firmly before me, “Did you notice, sister Allen, the lucid and logical -manner in which I carried up the argument from the firstly to the -twenty-thirdly?” - -I see then I was in for it. Brother Wesley Minkley haint got another -fault on earth as I know on--only jest a catchin’ his church members -and preachin’ his sermons over to ’em. But I have said 100 times that -I am glad he has got that, for it sets me more at rest about him on -windy days. Not that I really s’pose he will ascend, but if he hadn’t -got that fault I should be almost tempted to examine his shoulder blades -occasionally, (on the outside of his coat,) to see if his wings was a -spoutin’, he is so fine and honest and unsuspiceious. - -When his sermons are so long that they get up into the twentiethlies, and -thirtiethlies, as they jinerally do, I can’t say but what it is a little -wearin’ on you, to stand stun still whenever he happens to catch you, in -the store, or street, or doorstep, and have him preach ’em all over to -you alone. You feel kinder curious, and then sometimes your feet will get -to sleep. But on the present occasion I rejoiced, for it freed me for the -time bein’ from Betsey’s design. He laid holt of that sermon, and carried -it all up before me through the firstlys and the tenthlys, just as neat -and regular as you could hist a barel up the chamber stairs, and had just -landed it before the ninteenthly which was, “That all church members had -ort to get together, and rastle with the awful vice of gamblin’ and throw -it, and tread onto it,” when Betsey Bobbet appeared before us suddenly -with a big bag before her and says she, - -“Here is the grab bag, you must grab.” - -I never heard of the thing before, and it come so kind of sudden on me -that I hung back at first. But there wus a whole lot of folks lookin’ -on, and I didn’t want to act odd, so I laid holt of it, and grabbed it -with both hands as tight as I could towards the bottom. Betsey said that -wasn’t the way, and then her design so goaded her, that she bent forward -and whispered in my ear, - -“The Editah of the Augah got home to-night, he is expected here in half -an hour, I expect you to stand by me Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -I sithed heavy, and while I was a sithin’ Betsey asked Elder Minkley to -grab, and he, thinkin’ no hurt, bein’ so pure minded and unsuspicious, -and of such a friendly turn, he threw both arms around the bag grabbed -it, and held it tight. And then Betsey explained it to us--you had to pay -25 cents and then you run your hand into the bag, and had jest what you -happened to grab first. - -[Illustration: THE ENEMY ATTACKTED.] - -Then at that minute I see the power of pure and cast iron principle as I -never seen it before. Betsey Bobbet and all other sorrows and sufferin’ -was for the minute forgot, and I was glad I had been born. With the -look of a war horse when his mane tosses and he snorts, a smellin’ of -the battle field, Elder Wesley Minkley ketched the bag out of Betsey’s -tremblin’ hand, threw it down onto the floor, and sot down on it. He -looked peaceful then, he knew he had throwed the tempter, and got on to -it, holdin’ of it down. In the most tryin’ and excitin’ scenes of life, -the good of the human race is my theme of mind, I am so wrapped up in it, -and then, even in this glorious scene, I said to myself, “Ah would that -Adam had served them apples in the same way.” - -Brother Minkley took out his red silk handkerchief and wiped his heroic, -but sweaty face, for it was warm in the meetin’ house, and he bein’ a -large portly man, principle had heat him up. And then such a sermon as he -preached to Betsey Bobbet, it did my very soul good to hear, says he, “It -is gamblin’, and gamblin’ of the very worst kind to, for it is gamblin’ -in the name of God.” - -“Oh,” says Betsey, “deah and respected sir, the money is for you, and it -is not gamblin’, for there is not any wicked papeh cards connected with -it at all, it is only a sort of pious raffling in harmless pincushions -and innocent rag children.” - -Then did I see pure principle mountin’ up higher and higher, his honest -fat face grew fire red with it, and says be, “No raffled pincushions -shall ever enrich me, I scorn lucre that is obtained in that way. Not one -cent of money Betsey Bobbet will I ever take, that is realized from the -sale of these ragged children. Not a ragged child shall be gambled for, -for me, not a child.” - -We was right under the gallery, and at this minute a fish hook was let -down not but a little ways from us, and Shakespeare Bobbet who stood by -a basket full of things, hitched on a long huzzy all made of different -kinds of calico, and it went up a danglin’ over our heads. As he ketched -sight of it, Brother Wesley Minkley started up and says he, to Betsey in -tones that _would_ be replied to, - -“What does that mean?” - -Says Betsey in almost tremblin’ tones, “They pay ten cents for fishin’ -once.” - -Then says he in tones that sounded some like distant thunder, - -“Do they know what they are goin’ to get for thier money?” - -“No sir,” says she, and she quailed to that extent that I almost pitied -her. - -“More gamblin’!” he cried in fearful tones. And then he sprung for the -huzzy, and shouted up the gallery to Shakespeare Bobbet, “I forbid you -to draw up this huzzy another step. I forbid this huzzy to be drawed up -an inch further.” He hung on to the huzzy with both hands, and says -he--with the fire of his old foregrandfather in his eye (who was an -orderly sargant in the Revolution) “I’ll see if there is goin’ to be -huzzies gambled for in this way. I’ll see if there is goin’ to be such -shameless doin’s in my church!” - -[Illustration: THE ELDER ON THE ALERT.] - -For the next half hour confusion rained. But pure principle conquered. -In the language of scripture slightly altered to suit the occasion, “He -overthrew the grab bags, and drove out the huzzies and fish hooks.” When -peace rained agin, I grasped holt of his hand, and says I almost warmly, - -“You have done a good job brother, some folks may call it pious gamblin’, -but I never believed in it.” Whitfield Minkley come up at that very -minute, and says he, “That is jest as I think,” says he, in the language -of Shakespeare, “‘It is stealin’ the livery horses of heaven, to carry -the devil out a ridin’” or mebby I hain’t got the very words, but it was -somethin’ to that effect. - -Says I, “I never knew that Shakespeare Bobbet ever turned his mind that -way,” and then says I in a cordial way, “I am real glad you have got home -Whitfield, I guess I am about as glad to see you as any body, unless it -is your ma, and one or two others.” - -He thanked me and said it seemed good to get home agin, and then says -he, “I suppose Tirzah Ann is well.” His face as he said this was as -red as his neck tie. But I didn’t seem to notice it. I talked with him -quite a spell about her, and told him both the children would be to home -Saturday, and he must come up then, for Thomas Jefferson would be awful -disappointed not to see him. - -He looked awful tickled when I asked him to come, and he said he should -certainly come, for he never wanted to see Thomas Jefferson so bad, in -his life. - -I don’t make no matches, nor break none. But I hain’t a goin’ to deny, -that sister Minkley and I have talked it over, and if things go on, as -they seem to be a goin’ between _her_ Whitfield and _our_ Tirzah Ann, -there won’t be no straws laid in their way, not a straw. - -Whitfield was called off by one of his sisters, and Brother Wesley -Minkley standin’ in front of me begun, - -“Sister Allen, I am very much like you, I believe in actin’ up to our -professions, and as I was about to remark in my twentiethly,” then that -good, pure minded man begun agin jest where he left off. He had jest -lifted up his left hand, and was pintin’ it off with his right fore -finger, and I was jest thinkin’ that most likely I had got my night’s job -in front of me, when unxpected the Editer of the Augur come to speak to -me, and Brother Wesley Minkley bein’ a true gentleman, stopped preachin’ -to once, and went to talkin’ to Josiah. - -I looked sadly into the face of the Editer of the Augur, and sithed, for -I knew that Betsey would soon begin to encourage him, and I pitied him. - -He said “How de do?” to me, and I said in a absent minded way that “I -was; and I hoped it was so with him.” And then I sithed agin. And my -two gray eyes looked sadly into his’en (which was but’nut colored) for -a spell, and then roamed off across the room onto Betsey. I seen her -a fixin’ on her waterfall more securely, and a shakin’ out her greek -bender, and tightnin’ her horse hair bracelets, and her lips moved as if -she was beginnin’ to prey. And I knew he had got to be encouraged, and I -felt for him. - -The Editer of the Auger followed my mournful gaze, and I was surprised to -see the change in his but’nut eye as it met hers, from what it had been -in more former times preceedin’. For whereas he had always looked at her -with fear and almost agonizin’ aprehension, as if he realized his danger, -now he looked full in her face, as she smiled across the room at him, -with a proud haughty and triumphant mene on him I could not understand. -He gazed at her silently for I should think pretty near a half a minute -and then he turned to me with a sweet, contented smile curvin’ his -moustache--which had been colored a new bright black,--and says he to me -with a peaceful and serene look on to Betsey, - -“How sweet it is Josiah Allen’s wife for a noble but storm tosted bark to -anchor in a beautiful calm. How sweet it is, when you see the ravenin’ -tempest a smilin’ at you, I mean a lowerin’ at you, in the distance, to -feel that it can’t harm you--that you are beyond its reach. To see it -in its former dread power a drawin’ near--” (Betsey had started to come -towards us,) “and feel that you are safe from it. Josiah Allen’s wife I -feel safe and happy to night.” - -Betsey was stopped for the minute by Deacon Gowdey, but I knew it was -only a momentary respite, and knowin’ her design, how could I answer? I -could only look gloomy into his face, and think sadly, Ah! how little we -know when trials and dangers are ahead of us, how little we know when we -are goin’ to be encouraged. - -But he continued on in the same sweet happy triumphin’ tones, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, I believe you are my friend.” - -“Yes! and your well wisher,” and says I almost wildly, “whatever comes, -whatever may happen to you, remember that I wished you well, and I pitied -you.” - -“Instead of pityin’ me, wish me joy,” and he held out his right hand -towards me. - -I haint no hypocrite, and knowin’ what I knew, how could I be so -deceitful? I hung back and gripped holt of a breadth of my dress with my -right hand. - -Says he, “I am married, Josiah Allen’s wife, I was married a week ago -to-night.” - -I grasped holt of his right hand which he still held out, with my right -hand, and says I, “you take a load off’en my mind. Who too?” - -Says he, “the prettiest girl in Log London where father lives.” - -My emotions paralyzed me for nearly a quarter of a minute, and then says -I, - -“Where is she?” - -“To her folks’es,” says he, “But she will be here next week.” - -Betsey drew near. He looked calmly and fearlessly at her, but he murmured -gently, “The twins will be a wakin’ up; I must be a goin’,” and he gently -retreated. - -The first words Betsey said to me was, “Ketch hold of me Josiah Allen’s -wife, ketch hold of me, I am on the very point of swooning.” - -Then I knew what Deacon Gowdey had been a tellin’ her. She looked like a -blue ghost, trimmed off with otter color, for she had on a blue parmetta -dress all trimmed with annato colored trimmin’s. She murmured in almost -incoherent words, somethin’ about “her dearest gazelle bein’ a dyin’, and -her wantin’ to be took off to her buryin’ ground.” But I knew it was no -time for me to show my pity; true friendship demanded firmness and even -sternness, and when she asked me wildly agin to “ketch hold of her,” I -says to her coldly, - -“Ketch holt of yourself, Betsey Bobbet.” - -“My lost, my dearest gazelle is a dyin’! my hopes are witherin’!” says -she, shettin’ up her eyes and kinder staggerin’ up against the wall. - -Says I in tones as cold as old Zero, or pretty nigh as cold as that old -man, - -“Let ’em wither.” - -But I see I must come out still more plainer, or she would make a public -circus of herself, and says I pushin’ her into a corner, and standin’ up -in front of her, so as to shet off the audience from her face, for she -was a cryin’, and she did indeed look ghostly, - -“Betsey Bobbet the gazelle is married, and their hain’t no use in your -follerin’ on that trail no longer. Now,” says I, “take your bunnet and go -home, and collect yourself together. And,” says I, generously “I will go -with you as far as the door.” - -So I got her started off, as quick, and as quiet as I could, and I guess -there wasn’t mor’n seven men and 14 wimmen that asked me as I came back -in, - -“If it was the Editer of the Augur, that Betsey was a cryin’ about, and -if I ever see such a idiot in my life?” - -I answered ’em in a kind of blind way, and it broke up pretty soon. - -[Illustration: BETSEY SEEKS RELIEF.] - -When Josiah and me went home, as we passed Mr. Bobbet’ses, I looked up -into Betsey’s winder which fronted the road, and I see Betsey set by her -table a writin’. Her lips were firmly closed and she was a cryin’, her -cheeks looked holler and I knew that her teeth was out, so I felt that -she was writin’ poetry. I was right, for in the next weeks _Gimlet_ these -verses came out. These lines was wrote on to the top of ’em: - -“We do not wish to encourage the feeling of revenge in our fair -contributor’s fair breast, but this we will say, that on some occasions, -revenge is a noble feeling and almost leans over against virtue’s side. -And though we do not wish to be personal--no one could scorn it more than -we do--but we say, and we say it with the kindest feelings towards him, -that the E---- of the A---- is a _villian_.” - - Editor of the Gimlet. - - A Desiah. - - BY BETSEY BOBBET. - - Methinks I soon shall pass away, - I have seen my last gazelle expiah; - Deah friends I do not wish to stay; - To be a ghost is my desiah. - Revenge is sweet as honey a most-- - Methinks ’twere sweet to be a ghost. - - I would not be a seraphim, - For far a sweeter sight would be - On bedpost sitting, twitting him, - Of his deceit and perfide; - I’d rathah be a dreadful ghost, - A sitting on a certain post. - - I can give up my heavenly claim, - My seat upon the heavenly quiah; - I feel anotheh, wildeh aim-- - To be a ghost is my desiah. - Ah, yes! I’d ratheh be a ghost, - And sit upon a certain post. - - Methinks he’d coveh up his head - And groan and rithe, and maybe swear, - And sithe, “I wish she wasn’t dead;” - But still I’ll keep a sittin’ theah. - As long as I remain a ghost, - I’ll hang around a certain post. - - Anotheh certain person may, - With terror wish she hadn’t had - The wretch who made me pass away; - Maybe _she’ll_ wish I wasn’t dead. - In vain! for still my dreadful ghost, - Shall glare on her from a certain post. - - To think how I my brain have racked - On lays for him. My stomach cramp; - My bended form; my broken back; - My blasted hopes; my wasted lamp. - Oh, then I long to be a ghost, - To hang around a certain post. - - My soul it pants, my crazed brain spins, - To think how gushed my fond heart’s flow, - My sympathy for certain twins, - And then to think he used me so. - But soon! ah soon I’ll be a ghost, - A haunting round a certain post. - -[Illustration] - - - - -WIMMEN’S SPEAH. - - -One bright, beautiful day, I had got my mornin’s work all done up, and -had sot doun to double some carpet yarn, and Josiah sot behind the stove, -blackin’ his boots, when Betsey come in for a mornin’s call. She hadn’t -sot but a few minutes when says she, - -“I saw you was not doun to the lecture night before last, Josiah Allen’s -wife. I was sorry that I attended to it, but my uncle’s people where I -was visitin’ went, and so I went with them. But I did not like it, I -do not believe in wimmin’s havin’ any rights. I think it is real bold -and unwomanly in her to want any rights. I think it is not her speah, -as I remarked last night to our deah New Preacher. As we was a coming -out, afteh the lecture, the fringe of my shawl ketched on to one of the -buttons of his vest, and he could not get it off--and I did not try to, I -thought it was not my place--so we was obleeged to walk close togatheh, -cleah through the hall, and as I said to him, afteh I had enquired if he -did not find it very lonesome here, says I, ‘It is not wimmin’s speah to -vote,’ and says I, ‘do you not think it is woman’s nature naturally to be -clingin’?’ ‘I _do_,’ says he, ‘Heaven _knows_ I _do_.’ And he leaned back -with such a expression of stern despaih on to his classic features, that -I knew he felt it strongly. And I said the truth. I do not believe wimmin -ought to vote.” - -“Nor I nuther,” says Josiah, “she haint got the rekrisite strength to -vote, she is too fraguile.” - -Jest at this minute the boy that draws the milk came along, and Josiah, -says he to me, “I am in my stockin’ feet, Samantha, can’t you jest step -out and help Thomas Jefferson on with the can?” - -Says I, “If I am too fraguile to handle a paper vote, Josiah Allen, I am -too fraguile to lift 100 and 50 pounds of milk.” - -He didn’t say nothin’, but he slipped on his rubbers and started out, and -Betsey resumed, “It is so revoltin’ to female delicacy to go to the poles -and vote; most all of the female ladies that revolve around in the high -circles of Jonesville aristocracy agree with me in thinkin’ it is real -revoltin’ to female delicacy to vote.” - -[Illustration: FEMALE DELICACY] - -“Female delicacy!” says I, in a austeer tone. “Is female delicacy a -plant that withers in the shadder of the pole, but flourishes in every -other condition only in the shadder of the pole?” says I in a tone of -witherin’ scorn. “Female delicacy flourishes in a ball room, where these -sensitive creeters with dresses on indecently low in the neck, will waltz -all night with strange men’s arms round their waists,” says I. “You have -as good as throwed it in my face, Betsey Bobbet, that I haint a modest -woman, or I would be afraid to go and vote; but you ketch me with a low -neck dress on, Betsey Bobbet, and you will ketch me on my way to the -Asylum, and there haint a old deacon, or minister, or presidin’ Elder -in the Methodist church, that could get me to waltz with ’em, let alone -waltzin’ with promiscuus sinners. And,” says I in the deep, calm tone of -settled principle, “if you don’t believe it, bring on your old deacons -and ministers, and presidin’ Elders, and try me.” - -“You are gettin’ excited, Samantha,” says Josiah. - -“You jest keep blackin’ your boots, Josiah Allen, I haint a talkin’ to -you. Betsey, is it any worse for a female woman to dress herself in a -modest and Christian manner, with a braige viel over her face, and a -brass mounted parasol in her hand, and walk decently to the pole and lay -her vote on it, than to be introduced to a man, who for all you know may -be a retired pirate, and have him walk up and hug you by the hour, to the -music of a fiddle and a base violin?” - -“But if you vote you have got to go before a board of men, and how tryin’ -to delicacy that would be.” - -“I went before a board of men when I joined the meetin’ house, and when -I got the premium for my rag carpet, and I still live and call myself a -respectable character, but,” says I in a vain of unconcealed sarcasm “if -these delicate ball characters are too modest to go in broad daylight -armed with a umbrell before a venerable man settin’ on a board, let ’em -have a good old female board to take thier votes.” - -“Would it be lawful to have a female board?” says Betsey. - -“Wimmen can be boards at charity schools--poor little paupers, pretty -hard boards they find ’em some times--and they can be boards at fairs, -and hospitals, and penitentarys, and picnics, and African missions, and -would it be any worse to be a board before these delicate wimmen,” says -I, almost carried away with enthusiasm, “I would be a board myself.” - -[Illustration: NO TIME TO VOTE.] - -“Yes you would make a pretty board,” says Josiah, “you would make quite a -pile of lumber.” I paid no attention to his sarkastic remark, and Betsey -went on. - -“It would be such public business Josiah Allen’s wife for a woman to -recieve votes.” - -“I don’t know as it would be any more public business, than to sell -Episcopal pin cushiens, Methodist I scream, or Baptist water melons, by -the hour to a permiscuus crowd.” - -But says Betsey, “’twould devouh too much of a female’s time, she would -not have time to vote, and perform the other duties that are incumbient -upon her.” - -[Illustration: DREADFUL SHORT OF TIME.] - -Says I, “Wimmen find time for thier everlastin’ tattin’ and croshain’. -They find plenty of time for thier mats, and their tidys, their -flirtations, thier feather flowers, and bead flowers, and hair flowers, -and burr flowers, and oriental paintin’s, and Grecian paintin’s, and face -paintin’s. They spend more time a frizzin’ thier front hair than they -would, to learn the whole constitution by heart; and if they get a new -dress they find plenty of time to cut it all up into strips, jest to -pucker it up and set it on agin. They can dress up in thier best and -patrol the streets as regular as a watchman, and lean over the counter -in dry good stores till they know every nail in ’em by heart. They find -plenty of time for all this, and to go to all the parties they can hear -of, and theatres and conserts, and shows of all kinds, and to flirt with -every man they can lay holt of, and to cover their faces with their fans -and giggle; but when it comes to an act as simple and short as puttin’ a -letter into the post office, they are dreadful short on it for time.” - -But says Betsey, “The study that would be inevitable on a female in ordeh -to make her vote intelligably, would it not be too wearing on her?” - -[Illustration: NO TIME TO STUDY LAWS.] - -“No! not a single bit; s’posin these soft, fashionable wimmen should -read a little about the nation she lives in, and the laws that protects -her if she keeps ’em, and hangs and imprisons her if she breaks ’em? I -don’t know but it would be as good for her, as to pore over novels all -day long,” says I; “these very wimmen that think the President’s bureau -is a chest of draws where he keeps his fine shirts, and the tariff is -a wild horse the senators keep to ride out on,--these very wimmen that -can’t find time to read the constitution, let ’em get on to the track -of a love-sick hero and a swoonin’ heroine, and they will wade through -half a dozen volumes, but what they will foller ’em clear to Finis to -see ’em married there,” says I, warmin’ with my subject, “Let there be a -young woman hid in a certain hole, guarded by 100 and 10 pirates, and a -young man tryin’ to get to her, though at present layin’ heavily chained -in a underground dungeon with his rival settin’ on his back, what does -a woman care for time or treasure, till she sees the pirates all killed -off with one double revolver, and the young woman lifted out swoonin’ -but happy, by the brave hero?” Says I, in a deep camp meetin’ voice, “If -there had been a woman hid on the Island of Patmos, and Paul’s letters to -the churches had been love letters to her, there wouldn’t be such a thick -coat of dust on bibles as there is now. - -“But if wimmen _don’t_ read about the laws they’ll know as much as some -other folks do. I have seen men voters,” says I, and I cast a stern -glance onto Josiah as I spoke, “whose study into national affairs didn’t -wear on ’em enough to kill ’em at all. I have seen voters,” says I with -another cuttin’ look at him, “that didn’t know as much as their wives -did.” Josiah quailed a very little as I said this, and I continued on--“I -have seen Irish voters, whose intellects wasn’t tiresome to carry round, -and whose knowledge concernin’ public affairs wasn’t so good as it was -about rum, and who would sell their votes for a drink of whiskey, and -keep it up all day, votin’ and drinkin’ and then drinkin’ and votin’, and -I guess wimmen won’t do any worse.” - -Betsey almost quailed before my lofty glance and voice, but continued on -cleavin’ to the subject--“How awful and revolting it would sound to hear -the faih and softeh sex talking about tariffs and caurkusses.” - -“I don’t know,” says I, “but I had as lives hear ’em talk about -caurkusses, as to hear ’em backbitin’ thier neighbors and tearin’ the -charicters of other wimmen into bits, or talkin’ about such little things -as wimmen will; why in a small place, a woman can’t buy a calico apron -without the neighborhood holdin’ a inquest over it. Some think she ort -to have it, some think it is extravagant in her, and some think the set -flower on it is too young for her, and then they will all quarrel agin -whether she ort to make it with a bib or not.” Says I “the very reason -why men’s talk as a general thing is nobler than wimmen’s, is because -they have nobler things to think about.” Says I “Betsey Bobbet, when did -you ever know a passel of men to set down and spend a whole afternoon -talkin’ about each other’s vest, and mistrustin’ such a feller painted; -fill a woman’s mind with big, noble sized thoughts, and she won’t talk -such little back bitin’ gossip as she does now.” - -“Josiah Allen’s wife,” says Betsey, “I shall always say it is not woman’s -speah to vote.” - -“No,” says Josiah, “it hain’t; wimmen would vote for the handsomest -men, and the men that praised thier babys, they wouldn’t stand up onto -principal as men do, and then, how they would clog up the road ’lection -day, tryin’ to get all the news they could, wimmen have got such itchin’ -ears.” - -“Itchin’ ears!” says I, “principle!” says I, in low but awful deep tones -of voice, “Josiah Allen, it seems to me, that I wouldn’t try to stand -up onto principle agin, till the pantaloons are wore out you hired a -man with to vote your ticket.” He begun to look sheepish at once, and I -continued in still more awful accents, “talk about itchin’ ears, Josiah -Allen! here you have sot all the mornin’ blackin’ your boots, you have -rubbed them boots till you have most rubbed holes through ’em, jest for -an excuse to set here and hear me and Betsey Bobbet talk. And it hain’t -the first time nuther, for I have known you Josiah Allen, when I have had -female visitors, to leave your work and come in and lay on that lounge -behind the stove till you was most sweltered, pretendin’ you was readin’.” - -“I _wuz_ a readin’,” says Josiah drawin’ on his boots. - -“I have ketched you laughin’ over a funeral sermon, and a President’s -message, what is there highlarious in a funeral sermon Josiah Allen? What -is there exhileratin’ in a President’s message?” - -“Wall,” says he, “I guess I’ll water the steers.” - -“I should think you had better,” says I coolly, and after he went out, -Betsey resumed, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, I still say it is not woman’s speah to vote,” and -she continued, “I have got a few verses in my pocket, which I composed -that night aftah I returned from the lecture, which embody into them the -feelings of my soul concerning woman’s speah. I went to my chamber, and -let down my back haih, and took out my teeth, I always feel more free -somehow, and poetic, with my hair down and my teeth out, and there I -wrote these stanzeys, and seeing it is you, I will read them to you.” - -My firm and cast iron principles forbid my wishin’ in a reckless way that -I wasn’t myself, and I was in my own house, and horspitality forbid my -orderin’ her in stern accents, not to read a word of ’em, so I submitted, -and she read as follows: - - WIMMEN’S SPEAH; - - Or whisperin’s of nature to - - BETSEY BOBBET. - - Last night as I meandered out - To meditate apart, - Secluded in my parasol, - Deep subjects shook my heart. - The earth, the skies, the prattling brooks, - All thundered in my ear, - “It is matrimony! it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.” - - Day with a red shirred bonnet on, - Had down for China started, - Its yellow ribbons fluttered o’er - Her head, as she departed; - She seemed to wink her eyes on me, - As she did dissapeah; - And say, “It is matrimony, Betsey, - That is a woman’s speah.” - - A rustic had broke down his team; - I mused almost in teahs, - “How can a yoke be borne along - By half a pair of steers?” - Even thus in wrath did nature speak, - “Heah! Betsey Bobbet, heah! - It is matrimony! it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.” - - I saw a paih of roses - Like wedded pardners grow; - Sharp thorns did pave thier mortal path, - Yet sweetly did they blow; - They seemed to blow these _glorious_ words, - Into my _willing_ eah; - “It is matrimony! it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.” - - Two gentle sheep upon the hills; - How sweet the twain did run, - As I meandered gently on - And sot down on a stun; - They seemed to murmur sheepishly, - “Oh Betsey Bobbet deah, - It is matrimony! it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.” - - Sweet was the honeysuckle’s breath - Upon the ambient aih; - Sweet was the tendah coo of doves, - Yet sweeter husbands aih. - All nature’s voices poured these words - Into my _willing_ eah; - “B. Bobbet, it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.” - -“The above are my sentiments,” says she, as she folded up the paper. - -“I am a married woman,” says I, “and I hain’t got nothin’ to say aginst -marryin’, especally when Josiah’s back is turned, I don’t believe in -bein’ underhanded. But there are a great many widows and unmarried wimmen -in the world, what are they to do?” - -“Let them take heed to these glorious and consoling words, - - “‘It is matrimony, it is matrimony - That is a woman’s speah.’” - -“Shet up about your speahs,” says I, gettin wore out, “You may sing it -Betsey Bobbet, and ministers may preach it, and writers may orate about -it, that it is women’s only speah to marry, but what are you goin’ to do? -Are you goin’ to compel men to marry all the wimmen off?” says I, with a -penetratin’ look onto Betsey. - -[Illustration: A WOMAN’S RIGHTS.] - -“I have seen wimmen that was willin’ to marry, but the men wasn’t -forthcomin’, what are they to do? What are the wimmen to do whose faces -are as humbly as a plate of cold greens?” Says I, in stern tones, “Are -men to be pursued like stricken dears by a mad mob of humbly wimmen? -Is a woman to go out into the street and collar a man and order him to -marry her? I am sick of this talk about its bein’ a woman’s only speah to -marry. If it is a woman’s only speah to marry, the Lord will provide her -with a _man_, it stands to reason he will. One that will suit her too, -one that will come jest as nateral for her to leave all of the rest of -the world and foller, as for a sunflower to foller on after the sun. One -that she seems to belong to, jest like North and South America, joined -by nature unbeknown to them ever sense creation. She’ll know him if she -ever sees him, for their two hearts will suit each other jest like the -two halves of a pair of shears. These are the marriages that Heaven signs -the certificates of, and this marryin’ for a home, or for fear of bein’ -called a old maid, is no more marriage in the sight of God, no more true -marriage, than the blush of a fashionable woman that is bought for ten -cents an ounce and carried home in her pocket, is true modesty.” - -Here was a pause, durin’ which Betsey quailed some, and I then resumed -again, in the same lofty tones and I don’t know but a little loftier, -“There is but one thing that makes marriage pure and holy in the sight of -God.” - -“And what is that?” says Betsey in an enquirin’ tone. - -“Love,” says I, in a full clear tone, “Love, such as angels feel for one -another, love, such as Samantha Smith felt for Josiah Allen, though _why_ -I loved him, Heaven knows, I don’t. But I couldn’t help it, and I would -have lived single till them days we read of, if I hadn’t. Though for what -reason I loved him--” I continued mewsin’ly, and almost lost in deep -retrospectin’,--“I don’t know. I don’t believe in rehearsin’ privacies -and braggin’ about such things, but in the name of principle I speak. A -richer man wanted me at the same time, a man that knew half as much agin, -at least, as Josiah. I no need to have wet the ends of my fingers in -dishwater if I had married the other one, but I couldn’t do it, I loved -Josiah, _though why_”--and agin I plunged down into deep abstraction as I -murmured to myself,--“though _why_ I did, I don’t know.” - -“In them days,” says I, risin’ up agin out of my revery, “In them days to -come, when men and wimmen are independent of each other, marriage will be -what it ought to be, for folks won’t marry unless God unites their hearts -so close they can’t get ’em apart nohow. They won’t be tackled together -by any old rotton ropes of interest and accomidation, that are liable to -break in to pieces any minute, and in them days, the hands of divorce -writers won’t be so lame as they be now.” - -“I cannot comprehend,” says Betsey “how wimmen’s votin’, will change -the reprehensible ideah of marryin’ for a home, or for fear of being -ridiculed about, if it will, I cannot see.” - -“Can’t you see daylight Betsey Bobbet, when the sun is mountin’ up into -the clear horizeon?” Says I in a eloquent voice, “it stands to reason -that a woman won’t marry a man she don’t love, for a home, if she is -capable of makin’ one for herself. Where’s the disgrace of bein’ a old -maid, only wimmen are kinder dependent on men, kinder waitin’ to have him -ask her to marry him, so as to be supported by him? Give a woman as many -fields to work in as men have, and as good wages, and let it be thought -jest as respectable for ’em to earn _thier_ livin’ as for a man to, and -that is enough. It riles me to hear ’em talk about wimmen’s wantin’ to -wear the breeches; they don’t want to; they like calico better than -broadcloth for stiddy wear, they like muslin better than kersey mear -for handsome, and they have a nateral hankerin’ after the good opinion -and admiration of the other sect, but they can do better without that -admiration than they can without vittles.” - -“Yes,” says Betsey “men do admire to have wimmen clingin’ to ’em, like a -vine to a stately tree, and it is indeed a sweet view.” - -“So ’tis, so ’tis,” says I, “I never was much of a clinger myself. -Still if females want to cling, I haint no objection. But,” says I, in -reasonable tones, “as I have said more’n a hundred times, if men think -that wimmen are obleeged to be vines, they ought to feel obleeged to -make trees of themselves, for ’em to run up on. But they won’t; some -of ’em, they will not be trees, they seem to be sot against it. And -as I have said what if a vine haint no tree convenient to cling to? -or if she has, what if the tree she clings to happens to fall through -inherient rotteness at the core, thunder and lightnin’ or etcetery? If -the string breaks what is to become of the creeper if it can’t do nothin’ -but creep? Says I, “it is all well enough for a rich woman to set in a -velvet gown with her feet on the warm hearth and wonder what makes the -poor drunkard’s wife down in the street, shiver. Let her be out once with -her bare feet in the snow, and she’d find out. It haint the rich, happy, -comfortable clingers I am talkin’ in behalf of, but the poor shiverers -outside who haint nothin’ to cling to.” - -“Women’s speah”--began Betsey. - -“Women’s speah,” says I interuptin’ her in a magestic tone before which -Betsey quailed imperceptably. “Women’s speah is where she can do the most -good; if God had meant that wimmen should be nothin’ but men’s shadders, -He would have made gosts and fantoms of ’em at once. But havin’ made ’em -flesh and blood, with braens and souls, I believe He meant ’em to be used -to the best advantage. And the talk about wimmen havin’ to fight, and men -wash dishes, if wimmen vote, is all shear nonsense. In the Baptist church -where wimmen vote, I don’t see as they act different from other wimmen, -and I don’t see as the Baptist men act any more sheepish than common -men.” Says I “it is jest as ridiculous to say it would make a woman act -coarse and rampage round to vote, as to say that kissin’ a pretty baby, -or lovin’ books and music and pictures, makes a man a hen huzzy.” - -Says I, carried away with powerful emotions, “you may shet a lion up -for years, in a room full of cambric needles and tattin shettles, and -you can’t get him to do anything but roar at ’em, it haint a lion’s -nature to do fine sewin’,” says I. “And you may tie up a old hen as -long as you please, and you can’t break her of wantin’ to make a nest, -and scratch for her chickens.” Says I--wavin’ my right hand, slow and -magestically--“you may want a green shade onto the front side of your -house, and to that end and effect you may plant a acorn, and set out a -rose bush, but all the legeslaters in creation can’t make that acorn tree -blow out with red posys, no more can they make that rose bush stand -up straight as a giant. And thier bein’ planted by the side of each -other--on the same ground and watered out of the same waterin’ jug--don’t -olter thier natural turn. _They will both help shade the winder_, but do -it in their own way which is different. And men and wimmen votin’ side by -side, would no more alter their natural dispositions than singin’ one of -Watts’es hymns together would. One will sing base, and the other air, so -long as the world stands.” - -“Josiah Allen’s wife,” says Betsey, “I think your views are uronieus. We -cannot think alike about clinging, we also diffeh in our views about -caurkusses. When I consideh that ’lections and caurkusses come once every -yeah, then comes home the solemn feelin’, how wearin’ it would be for a -female to drop all her domestic labohs and avocations, and be present -at them. Josiah Allen’s wife, let us sposen’ the case, sposen’ a women -is a washin’, or churnin’ buttah, how could she leave this laboh to go -and vote?” I was so wore out, that says I, “we _will_ sposen’ the case, -sposen’ a women is a fool, how can she talk common sense?” Says I, with so -impatient a gesture that I broke off a thread, and had to tie it on agin -“you are goin’ over the same old ground agin of a woman’s time,” says I -“wimmen can drop all thier domestic labors and go to fares--town fares, -and county fares, and state fares if she can get to ’em. She will be on -the ground in time to see the first punkin and bedquilt carried on to it, -and she will stay to see the last horse, trot his last trot; she can find -time for picnics and pleasure exertions, and celebrations, and 4th of -July--that last, all day--and it would take about half a minute to vote. -But,” says I, in the most grand and noble tone I had used yet. “Men haint -took by the coat collar and dragged off to caurkusses and ’lections, they -don’t go unless they are a mind to, and I don’t suppose wimmen would be -drove there like a flock of sheep. They wouldn’t want to go; only, when -some great law was up concerning right and wrong, or her own intrinsick -interests, as givin a mother a equal right to her children, a right -she earnt naturally, a deed God himself stamped with the great seals -of fear and agony. Or bein’ taxed without representation; which breaks -the old constitution right into, in the middle, every time it is done. -Or concernin’ equal pay, for equal labor. I spose every female clerk -and teacher and operator, who have half starved on about one third what -men get for doin’ the same work would be on hand. Like wise concerning -Temperance, I spose every drunkards wife and mother and girl would go to -the pole, that could get there. Poor things, under the Legislator they -have enjoyed the right of sufferin’; sposen’ it lets ’em enjoy the right -of suffragin’ a spell, mebby they would find it as easy if not easier.” - -[Illustration: THE WIFE AND MOTHER AT A PRIMARY.] - -[Illustration: BETSEY’S VIEW OF THE RESULTS.] - -Jest at this minute we see the new Local Preacher, comin’ down the road -in a open buggy, and Betsey said to once she must be goin’, for her folks -would be a worryin’ after her. Says I, as she hurried to the door, - -“Mebby you will get a ride.” - -“Oh no,” says she, “I had a great deal rather walk afoot, I think there -is nothing like walking afoot for strengthenin’ the mussles.” - -I am glad she felt so, for I see he didn’t ask her to ride. But as she -said, health is a blessing, and it is a treat indeed to have strong -mussles. - - - - -A TOWER TO NEW YORK DISCUSSED. - - -The summer after the Donation and Fare dawned peacefully and fair on -Jonesville and the earth. The weather was pleasant, and things seemed -to go on as Sister Wesley Minkley and I could wish them to, between -her Whitfield, and our Tirzah Ann. Thomas Jefferson every fortnight or -so dressed up in his best and went in the direction of Lawyer Snow’s. -He _said_ that “he went to a new protracted meetin’ that they had jest -started up that way.” I don’t say that he didn’t, but I will say that -they protracted ’em pretty late. I don’t make no matches nor break none, -but I must say that things look promisin’ and agreable in the direction -of the children. Whitfield Minkley, and Maggy Snow, is agreeable to me, -_very_; so they be to Josiah. - -Josiah thinks considerable of Maggy’s bein’ so fore-handed. I say -_myself_ if she hadn’t but one hand in the line of riches, or no hand -at all, she would still be _my_ choice. She is a straight-forward -sensible girl--with no affectation, or sham about her. She reminds me -of what Samantha Allen was, before she had changed her maiden name of -Smith. Whether they are really engaged or not, I don’t know, for Thomas -J. is such a hand for fun that you can’t find out anything from him no -more than you could from the wind. But good land! there is time enough. -The children shan’t marry anybody in one good five years from now, if I -have my say about it. But as I told Josiah, I remember we was a talkin’ -it over last fall, as we sot out a new orchard--I was a holdin’ the -trees for him and says I--“Josiah it is our duty to get apple trees and -children started in the right direction, and then let them take their -time to grow.” - -He said, “Yes, so it was.” - -He feels well about it, as I say, it is agreeable to us both, and then -Josiah’s crops looked well, the crows took a little of his corn, but it -had come on, and bid fair to be a first rate crop. And as for his oats -and barley and winter wheat, they couldn’t be bettered. - -The Editer of the Augur had brought home his bride, a good lookin’ light -complected woman, who seemed devoted to him and the two twins. They went -to house keepin’ in a bran new house, and it was observed that he bought -a cottage bedstead that didn’t have any posts, and life for him seemed -blest and peaceful. - -Betsey Bobbet did not pine away and expire as might be expected by -cursory readers of her last poem in the Jonesville Gimlet. But any deep -philosipher who had made the Human Race, his (or her) study for any -length of time, never worrys over such efushions, knowin’ that affliction -is like the measles, and if they break out freely in pimples and poetry, -the patients are doin’ well. - -Betsey had been pretty quiet for her through the winter and spring, she -hadn’t made overtures only to two more--which was a little pill doctor, -and a locul preacher who had been sent round by the Conference. As she -remarked to me, “It is so natural to get attached to your minister and -your physician.” - -As I said the summer sun basked peacefully down and Jonesville almost -asleep under her rays, seemed the abode of Repose. But where was there a -Eden fenced in, but what Ambition let down the bars, or climbed over the -fence. But this was a noble Ambition, a Ambition I was proud to see a -gettin’ over the fence. It was a Ambition that leaped over into my door -yard the very day I heard the blessed tidings, that Horace Greeley was -run up for President. - -I had always respected Horace, he had always been dear to me. And when I -say dear, I want it to be plainly understood--I insist upon it that it -_shall_ be understood--that I mean dear, in a scriptural, and political -sense. Never sense I united myself to Josiah Allen, has my heart swerved -from that man so much as the breadth of a horse hair. But Horace’s -honest pure views of life, has endeared him to every true lover of the -Human Race, Josiah Allen’s wife included. Of course we don’t think alike -on every subject. No 2 human bein’s ever did. Horace and I differ on -some things such as biled vittles, Wimmen’s Rights, and cream biscuit. -He don’t believe in biled vittles, and it is my favorite beverage. He is -a unbeliever in salaratus, I myself don’t see how he makes cream biscuit -fit to eat without it. And he--not havin’ me to influence him--hadn’t -come out on to the side of wimmen’s havin’ a Right. But as a general -thing, Horace Greeley was to be found onto the side of Right. He was -onto the side of the weak, the down trodden. He was always a plottin’ to -do some good to somebody, and I felt that if the eyes of his spectacles -could be once opened onto this subject of wimmen’s havin’ a Right, that -he would be more help to us, than a army of banners. Months before he was -run up for President I had felt this, and in the fall of 1871, as Josiah -was a settin’ by the fire alone, he a readin’ the World and I a knittin’ -says I to him, - -“Josiah are you willin’ that I should go down to New York village on a -tower, and have a talk with Horace about the Human race and wimmen’s -havin’ a right?” - -Josiah didn’t seem to be willin’, he looked up from the World, and -muttered somethin’ about “Tammany’s ring.” - -I don’t know when the old Smith blood so riled up in me as it did then. -I remember I riz right up where I set in front of the stove, and waved my -right hand, I was so excited, and says I, - -“Josiah Allen if you have lived with me goin on 15 years, and if you -haint no more confidence in me than to think I would accept a ring from -old Tammany, then I will stay to home.” Says I, “Josiah Allen, I never -mistrusted till this very minute that you had a jealous hair in your -head,” says I, “you have fell 35 cents in my estimation to night,” says -I, “you know Josiah Allen that I haint never wore no jewelrey sense I -jined the Methodist meetin’ house, and if I did, do you spose I would -accept a ring from old Tammany, that sneakin’ old Democrat? I hate old -Tammany, I perfectly despise the old man.” - -I felt so imposed upon and worked up, that I started right off to bed and -forgot to wind up the clock, or shet the buttery door, for I remember the -clock run down and the cat eat the inside out of the custard pies. Wall -from that time I never had opened my head to Josiah about goin’ off on -a tower. But I wrote Horace a letter on the subject of Wimmen’s Rights, -as good a letter as I knew how, beggin’ him to follow the example of J. -Allen’s wife, and all other noble reformers and put his shoulder blades -to the wheel. - -His answer wasn’t so satisfactory as I could have wished it was, and I -knew I could do better to stand face to face with him. But as I say I -don’t know as I should ever have started up agin, if that great and good -man hadn’t been run up for President. - -Now some thought it looked shiftless in the Democrats, and kinder poverty -struck in ’em, to think they had got all out of President stuff, and -had to borry some of the Republicans. But good land! where is there a -housekeeper but what will once in a while get out of tea and have to -borry a drawin’ of her neighbors? If good honest, smart men was skurse -amongst ’em, if they had got kinder run out of President timber, and -wanted to borry a little, why it would have looked dreedful tight and -unneighberly in the Republicans to have refused ’em, when they was well -on it too for President stuff, they could have spared two or three jest -as well as not, even if they never got ’em paid back. But the Democrats -only wanted to borry one, and that was Horace. The Democrats thought -everything of Horace because he put a bail onto Jeff. Davis. Josiah said -at the time that it raised him 25 cents or more in his estimation. At the -same time it madded some of the Republicans. But it didn’t me. You see -I believe jest what I think is right, and pay no attention to what the -other folks who are standin’ on my doorstep may happen to believe. - -Nobody that stands on my platform--let ’em stand as close to me as they -are a mind to--not one of ’em is answerable to God for what thoughts and -principles are performin’ in my mind and soul. Josiah Allen’s wife hangs -on to nobody’s apron strings only jest her own. - -As far as the party on my doorstep believe what I think is right, I am -with ’em heart and hand, but I am not one to shet up my eyes and walk -up blindly and hang on to anybody’s apron strings, not even Horace -Greeley’s, as anybody can see in the matter of biled vittles, Wimmen’s -Rights, and cream biscuit. To think you have got to believe every thing -your party does, seems jest as unreasonable to me, as it would when you -go out to pick greens, to pick skunk cabbage because cow cabbage is good -and wholesome. Why skunk cabbage is pison, jest as pison as sikuta or -ratsbane. Now the doctrine of free love as some folks preach it up, folks -in both parties, why the smell of it is jest as obnoxious in my political -and moral nostrals as the smell of sikuta is, and if anything smells -worse than that, I don’t want to go near it. Pick out the good and leave -the bad, is my theme in greens and politix. - -Now about puttin’ that bail onto Jeff. Davis, though as I say it madded -my party, I was glad he put it on. Jeff. was a mean critter no doubt, but -I don’t know as chokin’ him to death with a rope would have made him any -better. I say this idee of chokin’ folks to death to reform ’em, is where -we show the savage in us, which we have brought down from our barbarious -ancestors. We have left off the war paint and war whoops, and we shall -leave off the hangin’ when we get civilized. - -Says some to me, “Look at our poor Northern boys that suffered and died -in Libby prison and Andersonville through Jefferson.” - -I says to ’em, “Would chokin’ Jefferson bring ’em back? if so I would -choke him myself.--not to kill him of course, but so he would feel it, I -can tell you.” - -No! it was all over, and past. All the sin, and all the sorrow of the -war. And God had out of it brought a great good to the black Africans, -and the nation, in the way all good is generally brought, through -sufferin’ and tribulation. And if a nation is made perfect through -sufferin’ what should be the first lesson she should show to the world? - -I say, it should be the lesson that Christ and his disciples taught, -that of all Heavenly graces, charity is the greatest. The way I looked -at it was this. The South that had been so braggin’, and selfish, and -overbearin’, stood at the door of the proud and victorious North, like -a beggar, harmless, destitute and ragged. Where is the rich happy woman -that wouldn’t give a nut-cake to a sick beggar? I don’t see myself how -she could help givin’ one, if she had any generosity and nobility -and--nut-cakes. - -Jeff. Davis was all broke to pieces, and he wanted a bail put onto him -so life could grip holt of him agin, and carry him I hope towards that -heaven he turned his back to, when he was a fightin’ to uphold slavery. -Horace helped put that bail on, and so did other noble men; and all the -ministers in creation, of every persuasion, might all stand up in a row -in our door yard, and preach to me 2 days, and then I wouldn’t believe -that H. G. would turn his hand to anything he thought was wrong. - -If there was any fault in him about this, it was on the side of charity -and mercy, and as a general thing that end of the board don’t tip up any -too fur in this selfish world. As a general thing, folks don’t teter on -that end of the board so much as they do on the other. - -So, as I said, when I heard that Horace was run up for President, I was -so happy that my heart would have sung for joy if it had been anything -of a singer, for now, thinks’es I, with that great and good and honest -man for President, all he wants is the influence of Josiah Allen’s wife -to make him all the sufferin’ nation needs. I felt that now the time had -come for J. Allen’s wife to come out boldly and put her shoulder blades -to the wheel. I felt that if Horace could be perswaded to draw and Josiah -Allen’s wife to push, nothin’ could hender that wheel from movin’ right -onward into Freedom. And so my principles, and the great doctrine so -goared me, that I couldn’t get no rest, I felt that I _must_ see Horace -before he got sot doun in the high chair, because you know when any body -gets sot doun they don’t love to nestle round and make no changes. So I -atted Josiah about it, but he didn’t seem to be willin’. I didn’t come -right out and tell him how I was xcercised on Wimmin’s Rights, knowin’ he -was a unbeliever, but I says to him, - -“Josiah, Jonesville is a good village, but nobody wants to be tied doun -even to a barell of sale molasses. Josiah, I do want to see some other -village, I do want to go to New York on a tower.” - -Says he, “Samantha, what under the sun do you want to go for at your age, -why do you want to start up and go a caperin’ round the country?” - -I thought a minute, and then says I, “I want to see Miss Woodhull, and -give her a real talkin’ to, about free love. I want to convince her she -is in the wrong on it,” and then says I in a kind of a blind way, “I have -got other business that I feel that it is my duty to tend to.” - -But he didn’t seem to be willin’, and I wouldn’t go without his consent. -And so it went on, Josiah hangin’ back, and my principles a goarin’ me. -It wore on me. My dresses begun to hook up looser on me, and finally one -mornin’, as I dallied over my second potato, and my third egg, not eatin’ -’em with no appetite, Josiah says to me, “What does ail you, Samantha, -you don’t eat nothin’, and you seem to be a runnin’ doun.” - -Then I broached the subject to him agin. I expected he would object. But -he looked at me in a silent, melankolly way for about one minute, and -half or three quarters of another, and then says he in a gentle but firm -accent, - -“Samantha if I can sell the old critter you can go.” - -So I was left in uncertainty (as it were) for I knew he wouldn’t sell it -for less than the price he had sot it, and no knowin’ whether it would -fetch it or not. But I felt in my heart a feelin’ that I should go off on -that tower. And so I gradually but silently began makin’ preperations, I -quietly and calmly took two breadths out of my brown alapaca dress and -goared ’em and put a overskirt on to it, for I was determined not to go -to New York village without a overskirt on to me. Not that I care about -such triflin’ things myself, but I felt that I was representin’ a great -cause, and I wasn’t goin’ to put our cause to open shame by not havin’ on -a overskirt. Men sometimes say that great and strong minded wimmen are -slack in the matter of dressin’ up, I was determined to show ’em that -that weakness wasn’t mine. I wasn’t goin’ to be all tattered out, with -ends and tag locks of bows and pleatin’s, and tow curls and frizzles, but -I felt there was a megium course to pursue, and I was determined to hit -against it. - -Then agin I felt that the color of my dress suited the great cause. I -wasn’t goin’ rigged out in pink muslin, or sky-blue cambric, or anything -of that sort. A good solid sensible brown seemed to be jest the thing. -Black would have seemed too much in the mournin’ line, as if we was -despondent when we wasn’t. White book muslin would have looked as if my -principles was too thin, and I was too light and triflin’, and didn’t -realize the great issues dependent on to me. No; brown alapaca with a -overskirt I felt was jest what the anxious nation required of me, as I -stood face to face with the future President of the United States--with -my spectacles calmly gazin’ into his’en, a influencin’ him in the cause -of Right. - -Another reason, I won’t deny, influenced me in tryin’ to get a good -pattern for my overskirt so as to have it set good, (I got it of -Miss Gowdey and made it a little bigger round the waist,) I thought -more’n likely as not Horace’s and my picture would be took, and in the -future would be hung up by the side of that good honest old Lincoln’s -Emancipation Proclamation. - -“Josiah Allen’s wife influencin’ Horace in the Great Cause of Wimmen’s -Rights.” - -And though I haint vain, I thought how poor it would be, and what a eye -sore to the nation if my dress didn’t hang good. And how pleasin’ it -would be both to America and Josiah, to see me dressed in a noble and -becomin’ way. So I finished my overskirt, and silently done up my best -petticoat, and in the same mysterious manner I put some tape trimmin’ on -to the bottom of it. - -And so the long and tegus days passed away from me. I felt that suspense -was a wearin’ on me. Josiah see that it was. And on Saturday mornin’ I -see him pensively leanin’ over the barn yard fence, mewsin’ as it was, -and pretty soon he hitched up the old mare, and went to Jonesville, and -when he came back he says to me, in sorrowful tones but some composed, - -“Samantha, you can start to-morrow if you want to, I have sold the old -critter.” - -And then he added pensively. “I wish you would have a few griddle cakes -for supper, with some maple molasses on to ’em.” - -[Illustration] - - - - -GOVERNED BY PRINCIPLES. - - -On the next Monday mornin’, I let loose to my feelin’s as it was, and -begun to make open preparations. I baked up the best vittles the house -afforded, for I determined Josiah should live like a king durin’ his -temporary widowerhood. Then after I got through bakin’ and got the house -clean as a pin, I commenced to fix a dress to wear on the journey, for -of course I wasn’t goin’ to wear my best dress with a overskirt on the -railway. I am a master hand for bein’ careful of my clothes, and I knew -it would almost spile one of my best dresses, but I had a calico dress as -good as new. It was a dark blue ground work with a handsome sprig on it, -and after I took up two tacks in it, I felt that it was jest the thing to -wear on the tower. - -I had jest put it on, and had got the lookin’ glass onto the floor to see -if it cleared the floor enough, when Thomas Jefferson come in, and says -he, - -“Your dress is too short, mother, I hate to see short dresses, they look -so hihorsical.” - -I answered him with dignity as I looked over my shoulder into the glass, - -“Samantha Allen, whose maiden name was Smith, haint a goin’ to mop out -the cars for the railroad company, free gratis for nothin’,” and I added -with still more impressive dignity, as I hung up the lookin’ glass, “what -you mean by hihorsical I don’t know.” - -He said it was a compound word derived from the Greek, “high,” to -intoxicate, and “horsical,” a race horse, which two words strained off -from the dead language and biled doun into English meant “hihorsical.” - -I told him “I didn’t care for his Greek, I didn’t care if it was dead, -not a mite, I shouldn’t cry over it,” and I told him further, fixin’ my -gray eyes upon him serenely, “that there was two or three words that -wasn’t dead, that he would do well to strain off, and bile doun, and take -’em for a stiddy drink.” - -He wanted to know what they was, and I told him plainly they was “Mind -your own business.” - -He said he would bile ’em doun, and take ’em stiddy as a clock, and -pretty soon he started off for Jonesville--he had staid to home that -day to help his father. And I went on with a serene face a makin’ my -preparations. Josiah didn’t hardly take his eyes off of my face, as I -made ’em. He sot in a dejected way, a claspin’ the World in his two -hands, with a sad look onto his face. He hated to think of my leavin’ -him, and goin’ off on a tower. I see he did, and I says to him in a real -affectionate tone, - -“Josiah, haint there nothin’ I can do for you in New York, haint you got -any errands to the village?” - -He rubbed his bald head in deep thought for a minute or two, and then -says he, (he thinks everything of the World,) “The nigger barber’s wife -to Jonesville came pretty near runnin’ away with another nigger last -night; if you have time I should love to have you go to the Editer of the -World and tell him of it. I am afraid,” says he, and a gloomy, anxious -look over-spread his eye-brow, “I am afraid he haint heard of it.” - -I answered him in a soothin’ tone, “That I guessed he had heard of it -before now, I guessed it would be in the next week’s World,” and Josiah -kinder chirked up and went out to work. - -The next day I took ten pounds of butter, and 4 dozen of eggs and Josiah -carried me to Jonesville to trade ’em out, to get necessarys for me to -wear on my tower. I didn’t begrech layin’ out so much expense, neither -did Josiah, for we both knew that as I was gettin’ pretty well along in -years, it wasn’t likely I should ever go off on a tower agin. And then I -had been prudent and equinomical all my days, and it wasn’t no more than -right that I should launch out now in a liberal way. - -But all the time I was workin’ over that butter, and all the time I was -countin’ out them eggs, Horace was in my mind. Hangin’ such hopes on him -as I hung, I felt that I must do somethin’ openly, to give vent to my -patriotic feelin’s in regard to him. - -I never had wore hats, for I felt that I was too old to wear ’em. But -now as I was startin’ off to Jonesville to get necessarys to wear on my -mission to that great and good Horace, I felt that principle called on me -to come out openly, and wear a white hat with a feather. And I felt that -Josiah as the husband of Josiah Allen’s wife, and the carrier of her to -get them necessarys, must also wear one. - -The father of Josiah, had left to him with other clothin’, a large white -fur hat. As the old gentleman hadn’t wore it for some 40 or 50 years -prior to and before his desease, (he died when Thomas J. was a baby) it -wasn’t in the hight of fashion. But says I, “Josiah Allen in the name of -Horace and principle will you wear that hat?” - -Says he, “I hate to like a dog, for they will think I have stole the -Baptist steeple, and am wearin’ it for a hat.” But seein’ my sad -dissapointed look, says he, “If you say so Samantha, I will wear it for -once.” - -Says I with dignity, “It is not your wife, formally Samantha Smith, that -says so, it is principle.” - -“Wall!” says he “fetch it on.” Josiah was awful clever to me, I guess it -is natural for all men to conduct themselves cleverer when they are about -to lose their pardners for a spell. - -The hat _was big_. I couldn’t deny it. And Josiah bein’ small, with no -hair to fill it up, as I lifted it up with both hands and set it onto -him, his head went right up into it, the brim takin’ him right across the -bottom of his nose. - -Says he, out from under the hat, “There hain’t no use a talkin’ Samantha, -I can’t never drive the old mare to Jonesville in this condition, blind -as a bat.” - -But I explained it to him, that by windin’ a piller-case, or somethin’ -round the top of his head, the hat would fit on, jest as you would fix a -small cork into a big bottle. - -So that bein’ arrainged, my next thought was for my own hat, and I -thought mournfully as I examined it, mine would be as much too small as -his was too big; it was an old one of Tirzah Ann’s, it was pure white, -but it was small for _her_, and nobody could have got me even to have -tried it onto my head, for love or money. But in such a nature as J. -Allen’s wife’s, _principle_ is all in all. - -And as I looked in the glass and see how awfully I looked in it, a -feelin’ of grandeur--self sacrificin’ nobility and patrotism swelled up -in me, and made my face look redder than ever, I am naturally very fresh -colored. And I felt that for the sake of Horace and principle, I could -endure the burnin’ sun, and mebby the scoffs and sneers of Jonesville, -they bein’ most all on the side of Grant. I took a old white silk bunnet -linin’ of mine, and put a new bindin’ round the edge, it bein’ formally -bound with pink. And then after readin’ a chapter in Fox’es Book of -Martyrs--a soul stirrin’ chapter, concernin’ them that was biled in oil -and baked on gridirens for principle--I sallied out to get a feather to -put onto it. - -We hadn’t no white feathers by us, and I shouldn’t have felt like -runnin’ Josiah into any extra expense to buy one, if there had been a -feather store in the door yard. But our old rooster “Hail the Day,” as -Thomas Jefferson calls him, had the most curlin’est, and foamin’est tail -feathers you ever see, white as snow. And inspired by the most pure and -noble and lofty sentiments that can animate the human breast, I chased -up that old rooster for nigh onto half an hour. At last I cornered him -behind the barn, and as I held him tight to my breast, and pulled out -by main strength two long slim feathers, that quirled and waved in a -invitin’ manner, I says to him, - -“This is hard for you, old Hail the Day. But you are not the rooster I -take you to be, you are not like your mistress, if you are not willin’ to -suffer in the cause of Right.” - -He flopped his wings, when I let him go, and crowed nobly. I fixed the -feathers in and we set out. But I was more scairt than hurt in the line -of scoffs. As we went into Jonesville not a scoff did I see--not a single -scoff. No! they all smiled as they looked at us, they see the power of -principle, and they was proud of us. Some of ’em laughed, they admired us -so. - -[Illustration: VISIT TO JONESVILLE.] - -We drove up to the store and I went in with my butter and eggs, Josiah -havin’ business to the blacksmiths. The clerk looked at me, and he -smiled, and says he, - -“I see you are for Horace Greeley.” He almost snickered but he checked -himself, looked meachin’, as he see my keen gray eye fixed onto his hat -which he had on, it was a kind of a mice coler, no principle shone on it -of any kind. - -“Yes,” says I, “I am for Horace,” and agin I looked keenly and searchin’ly -at that hat, and says I “Be you on either side or be you on the fence?” - -“Wall,” says he “I am kinder on the fence at the present time. But I -didn’t get up there because I am a coward, I got up there through policy; -when you are on the fence, you haint a steppin’ on the feet of either -party, it is a safe place, and it is a sightly place, you can see better -than you can on the ground.” - -“When do you calculate to get off?” says I. - -“Oh right after ’lection,” says he. “I shall get off on the side that -beats.” - -I see here was a chance for me to do good and says I, - -“Young man, ridin’ a fence never carried any man or woman into nobility -or honor,” says I, “you may saddle and bridle a fence with all the velvet -cushioned caution, and silver mounted excuses, and shinin’ policy you are -a mind to, but you never could get Josiah Allen’s wife on to it, she had -ruther walk afoot,” says I, “them brave warriors that go canterin’ doun -life’s battle field, leadin’ on the forlorn hope in the cause of Right, -don’t go ridin’ a fence.” - -He looked stricken, and I asked him in a milder tone to look at his green -braige for viels. He took off that hat and threw it doun behind the -counter, and brought out the braige, and I bought right there on the spot -a yard and a quarter of it. I then bought a pair of new cotton gloves, -a good sized umbrella, a pair of morocco shoes, a pair of pink elastic -garters, and two as good stockin’s as Jonesville afforded, and butter -would pay for. I haint one to flounce the outside of the platter, and -let the inside go bony and ragged. I haint no opinion of wolves on the -outside, and sheep on the inside, I want to be sheep clear to the bone, -in dress as well as principle. Wall, who should come into the store, jest -as I was examinin’ the green braige through my spectacles, but Betsey -Bobbet. My purchases lay all round me on the counter, and says she, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, what means this extravagant outlay of expendature?” - -Says I, as coolly as if I went there every mornin’ before breakfast, - -“I am goin’ to New York village on a tower.” - -She fairly screamed out, “What a coincidence!” - -Says I calmly, “It haint no such thing, it is green braige for a viel. It -is 75 cents a yard.” - -“You do not understand me, Josiah Allen’s wife,” says she. “I mean -that it is so singulah and coinciding that I am goin’ theah too. Cousin -Melindy, she that married Ebenezah Williams, is just goin’ with the -consumption. And I felt that duty was a drawin’ of me theah. As I told -motheh, in case of anything’s happenin’, in case that Melindy should -expiah, how sweet and soothin’ it would be to Ebenezah to have somebody -theah, that could feel for him. It would about kill Ebinezah to lose -Melindy, and I feel that it would be so sweet and comfortin’ for him to -have somebody on hand to lean on;” she smiled sweetly as she continued, -“there is almost a certainty that Melindy is about to be took from our -aching hearts. But I fall back on the scripture, and on my duty, and try -to feel as if I could give her up. When do you start?” - -“Thursday mornin’,” says I in a tone as cold as a grindstone in January, -for I see what was before me. - -She clasped her two hands and smiled on me two times, and cried out -agin, “Oh, what anotheh coincidence! jest the day I was intending to -embark. Oh,” says she, “how sweet it will be for you to have a congenial -companion on the way, as the poet Robinson Selkirk sweetly singeth, - - ‘Oh solitude, where are the charms - Mr. Sage hath seen in thy face?’ - -Don’t you say so, Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -“I respect Mr. Sage,” says I, “he is a man I admire, and Mr. Selkirk -don’t know beans,” and I added in frigid tones, “when the bag is -untied.” I see that my emotions was a gettin’ the better of me, I see -my principals was a totterin’. I recollected that I was a member of the -Methodist meetin’ house, and the words of a him come back to me, with a -slight change in ’em to suit the occasion. - - “Shall I be carried to New York, - On floury bags of ease?” - -I turned and shouldered my cross. - -“Betsey we will set sail together Thursday mornin’.” I then turned -silently and left the store, for I felt than any further effort would -have been too much for me. - -Thursday mornin’ found me to the depott in good season. Betsey also was -on time. I didn’t feel haughty nor at all proud, but still I felt that I -was a independent householder startin’ to New York village on a tower at -my own expense. I see that all the car folks felt friendly towards me for -thier was a pleasant smile on their faces every time they looked at me -and Betsey. - -I wasn’t trimmed off so much as Betsey, but I looked well. I had on that -good calico dress, a large black silk mantilly, a good shirred silk -bunnet large enough to shade my face some, my bran new cotton gloves, my -veil and my umbrell. - -Betsey, I always thought put on too much to look well, howsomever -everybody to their own mind. She had on a pale blue parmetta dress, with -flounces and puckers onto it, a overskirt and a greek bender of the same, -trimmed with checkered delain, out on a biasin’, a close fittin’ bask -of the delain, which was pink and yellow plaid and which was pinked out -on the edge with a machine. She had on a white bobbinet lace hat, jest -big enough to cover her bump of self-esteem, trimmed with red and yellow -roses and long ends of otter colored ribbon and white lace, then she had -long cornelian ear rings, a string of beads round her neck, and a locket -and a big blue breast pin and a cornelian cross. A pair of new white -cotton gloves, trimmed with two rows of broad white cotton edgin’ five -cents a yard--for I seen her buy it--and two horsehair bracelets. And -with her new teeth and her long bran new tow curls, and waterfalls and -frizzles all full of otter colored rosettes, I tell you she looked gay. - -She says to me as she met my keen gaze. - -“I don’t know but what you think I am foolish Josiah Allen’s wife, -in enrobing myself in my best a coming on the road. But these are my -sentiments. I knew we should get theah before night, and I should proceed -at once to Ebinezah’s, and if anything should be a happening, if it -should be the house of mourning, I thought it would be so comforting to -Ebinezah, to see me looking beautiful and cheerful. Yon know theah is -everything in first impressions. I mean of course,” she added hastily, -“that I am that sorry for poor lonely widdowers and especially Ebinezah, -that if I could be a comfort to them, I would be willing to sacrifice -a tablespoonful of my heart’s best blood, much moah this blue parmetta -dress. These are my sentiments Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -Says I coldly, “I should know they was yours Betsey, I should know they -was yours, if I should meet ’em in my porridge dish.” - -But the time drew near for the cars to bear me away from Josiah, and I -began to feel bad. - -I don’t believe in husbands and wives partin’ away from each other, -one livin’ in Europe, and one in New York village, one in Wall street, -and the other on a Long Branch, one in Boston, and the other in North -America. As the poet truly observes, - -“When the cat is away the mice’s will go to playin’.” - -As for me, I want my husband Josiah where I can lay my hand on him any -time, day or night, I know then what he is about. Though so far as -jealousy is concerned, Bunker Hill monument, and Plymouth Rock would be -jest as likely to go to flirtin’ and cuttin’ up, as either of us. We have -almost cast iron confidence in each other. But still it is a sweet and -satisfyin’ thought to know jest where your consort is, and what he is -about, from hour to hour. - -Josiah and me didn’t shed no tears as we each of us parted, though our -hearts ached with anguish we both of us felt it our duty to be calm. I -felt a tear risin’ to my eye, but with a almost fearful effort I choked -it back and said in low accents as we grasped holt of each others hands -at partin’, - -“Good by, Josiah, remember to feed the hens, and keep the suller door -shet up.” - -He too struggled nobly for composure and conquered, and in a voice of -marble calm he said, - -“Good by Samantha, don’t spend no more money than is necessary.” - -The Ingin hitched to the front car give a wild yell, as if he felt our -two woes--Josiah’s and mine--and we parted for the first time in goin’ on -15 years. - -As I sunk back on the wooden bottomed car seat, perfectly onmanned by my -efforts at commandin’ myself, for the first time I felt regret at my wild -and perilous undertakin’. - -[Illustration] - - - - -MEETING GRANT AND COLFAX. - - -We had to change cars about noon, as we went into the depot to get our -tickets, the ticket man looked so kinder lonesome stuck in there alone, -for all the world as if he had done somethin’ and his mother had shet him -up, that I thought I would make a little talk with him. - -He favored Celestine Wilkins’es husband considerable, jest such a -meachin’ lookin’ feller, and I knew Celestine’s husband had a brother -down this way somewhere, and so to kinder open a conversation with him, I -asked him “If he ever had any relation that married a girl by the name of -Gowdey?” - -You ought to have heard how that feller snapped me up--he couldn’t have -answered me any shorter, if I had asked him to run away with me. - -But thinks’es I to myself, he has got morbid through lonesomness. I -pitied him shet up alone there, and so in a few minutes I begun agin. - -“I didn’t know but he was your brother, he has a good deal such a -meachin’ look to him,” and says I, “The country round here hain’t so -pleasant as Jonesville, do you think it is sir?” - -“He didn’t know or care nothin’ about Jonesville.” - -His tone was sharper than that sword aged two, that the bible tells of. - -Says I, “Young man you needn’t take my head quite off, if you never did -see Jonesville nor had any other advantages. I hain’t to blame for it.” -And thinks’es I to myself, you may be lonesome for all of me, you may die -of lonesomness for all I care, I shan’t try to make any more talk with -you to make your time pass off easier. - -We got on to the cars agin and got a good seat. I wanted to set by an -open winder, and Betsey didn’t. I mistrust she thought the wind would -take the kink out of her frizzles, and so she went on a seat or 2 ahead -of me. There was a lot of fashionable lookin’ folks came in too, and one -of ’em came along and set right down in the seat with me, the cars bein’ -pretty full. She was dressed up like a doll, but she didn’t act stuck -up a mite, my opinion is, she knew what belonged to good manners, and I -offered her some caraway, for I liked her looks. She took it and thanked -me for it, and says I to make talk with her, - -“Are you goin’ far on the cars?” - -She said, “She wasn’t goin’ far on this route, she was goin’ to a -waterin’ place.” - -“How far?” says I. - -“Oh 2 or 300 miles,” says she. - -“Good land!” says I, “Can’t you find any water nearer hum? Why,” says I, -“I should think you would be choked before you got there.” Says I, “Our -cistern and well sometimes gives out in hot weather, but Josiah always -draws water from the creek,” why says I, full of pity for her, “If I -hadn’t any water to the house, and nobody to draw it for me I should -rather drive myself to the creek and water myself 3 times a day, than to -start off on the cars so far after it. Howsumever every body to their own -mind.” - -She kinder laughed with her eyes, and, said somethin’ about “seasides” -and “sea bathin’” or somethin’ and I felt it was my duty to say to her, - -“You needn’t go 300 miles for that, you can get good seasides to -Jonesville for 75 cents. Tirzah Ann, Josiah’s girl by his first wife, got -one for that. I don’t wear hats myself, except,” says I with dignity, -“in the cause of Right and for the good of the Human Race. And as for -seein’ bathin’, I myself would go the other way, ruther than foller it -up; howsumever everybody to thier own taste.” But I kep’ thinkin’ of it, -and I couldn’t help breakin’ out agin, and speakin’ my mind; says I, in -a good deal colder accents, “I would as soon go to a horse race--and -sooner,” for the more I thought of it the more I thought that no virtuous -woman would start off 300 miles to see bathin’ goin’ on. I acted offish -after that, and was sorry I had give her the caraway. - -Her face looked red, and she started up and went back and sot doun -by some of her mates, and I was glad she did. She pretended to be a -laughin’, and she was talkin’ to ’em awful busy; but I see one eye was on -me the most of the time--she felt guilty. - -At the very next station house two fellers come in that everybody seemed -to be lookin’ at, and payin’ attention to. But they didn’t seem to mind -it. They come in and sot doun right in the seat between me and Betsey. - -After they had sot doun, one of ’em took a cigar out of his pocket, and -put it in his mouth. It wasn’t lit, but he held it between his teeth as -if it was a great comfort to him. Thinks’es I, it is kinder queer works, -but I can stand it if the R. R. Company can. But Betsey leaned her head -back, and says to him, - -“Was you aware, kind sir, that cigars was confiscated on the cars?” - -He didn’t say a word, but held on to it with his teeth as if it was -dreadful comfortin’ to him. And she asked him over again. But not a word -did he say. I guess she asked him five times--but not a word did she get -out of him. And then she turned to the feller with him, the smilin’ chap, -and says she, - -“Is your companion a deaf male?” - -He smiled. Agin she asked him, - -“Is your pardner deprived of his eahs?” - -“Oh no,” says he, “he has got ears,” and agin he smiled. - -Thinks’es I, it is pretty queer works, but it is none of my business. -I guess we had rode nigh on to an hour in jest that way, Betsey kinder -oneasy and nestlin’ round, I calm and placid in demeaniour and one of the -men between us a holdin’ that cigar in his mouth, as if it was indeed -consolin’, and the other one a smilin’ blandly, at nothin’ in particular. -Everybody in the cars seemed to be a lookin’ at ’em, and thinks’es I, it -is no wonder, for of all the good natured lookin’ men I ever see, he is -the cap sheaf. Thinks’es I, I wish every ticket agent in the world could -have his benine face to hang up before ’em, for a sampler, for if there -was ever a race that had the appearance of bein’ brought up on vinegar -and ten-penny nails, it is them. - -After a while, I got kinder hungry. My basket hung right up over them -two men, and I rose up, and went to reach up for it, when the smilin’ -chap got up a smilin’ and says he to me, “Can’t I assist you, madam?” and -he reached up smilin’ as sweet as a rose, to take it doun, when all of -a sudden the handle slipped out at one end, and doun come the contents -right on to his face. One nut-cake, a long, slim one, sot up straight on -his nose, as handsome as you ever see a circus man ride a white horse. -But most mournful of all, I had some biled eggs, and unbeknown to me, -Tirzah Ann had took ’em out too quick, before they was much more than -warmed through, and they broke onto his face and all run doun into his -whiskers. But if you will believe it, that blessed man smiled. - -[Illustration: THE SMILIN’ STRANGER.] - -Thinks I to myself, “Good land! was there ever such a clever critter on -earth?” I handed him a clean towel, and told him I was sorry. But he -smiled, and said, “it wasn’t any matter,” and wiped his sweetly smilin’ -face, and handed the towel back smilin’. - -The other feller never said a word, though one of the eggs broke onto -the legs of his white pantaloons. Jest at this crisis, a tall man with -whiskers came up, and said somethin’ to ’em, and they got up and went to -the other end of the car, where there was a lot of smart lookin’ men. As -they went by me the clever feller slipped on a piece of orange peel, and -a most fell. But if you will believe it, the critter smiled. - -I see that all of them smart lookin’ men acted dreadful reverential -towards the two, and I says to a bystander behind me, “Can you tell me -sir who that clever critter is, and the other one?” Says he, “That is -Skyler Colfax, and General Grant.” - -I rose right up in my seat, for at the mention of them two honored names, -such emotions rushed onto me--that it drownded out fear, and all the -shrinkin’ bashfulness of my sect, and I forgot in that wrapped moment -that I wasn’t Josiah, and I advanced right onwards towards them two -noble men. Every man round ’em see the lofty expression onto my face, and -kinder fell back, and I walked right up and gripped Skylers’es hand with -one of mine, while I held my umbrell in the other tremblin’ with emotion. - -“Skyler, I am glad Tirzah Ann took ’em out too quick.” - -He didn’t know what I meant, but that blessed man smiled, and agin I -spoke in the same tremblin’ tones. - -“I am glad they was rare done.” - -Agin he smiled, and agin I spoke, and I mastered my feelin’s, with a -effort, and spoke out loud and clear, - -“The hen that laid them eggs, never shall do another day’s work as long -as my name is Josiah Allen’s wife. I know jest which one laid ’em, for -old speckle face’s eggs are so big that we always keep ’em for our own -use.” Says I, “it makes me proud and happy to think I am the owner of -that hen, for if it hadn’t been for them eggs, I never should have felt -so well acquainted with you. If it hadn’t been for them eggs that broke -onto your good and honored face, I never should have had the privilege of -graspin’ holt of your hand and sayin’ to you what I now say, that though -goodness and patience and faithfulness may be made light of by some, -they are jest what is goin’ to carry Uncle Sam triumphant onward, with -a smilin’ face, when the egg shells of uncivil war break on his honest -face, and thier yelks run down into his whiskers.” - -Here my feelin’s almost overcame me agin, and as he smiled at me, and -spoke kinder pleasant to me--and smiled agin, I turned silently away and -grasped holt of General Grant’ses hand, and says I, in still more chokin’ -accents-- - -“Ulysses this is a proud day for Josiah Allen’s wife,” says I, “Ulysses -how do you do?” - -He didn’t say nothin’ but nodded kinder pleasant to me, and I says in -the same almost tremblin tones for I knew he thought every thing of -his relations. “How is Mr. Dents’es folks, are they all enjoying good -health?” He nodded agin kinder pleasant but didn’t say a word, and I -proceeded on-- - -“Ulysses you have freed the land from war and bloodshed. Wherever the -smoke of that peaceful cigar has smoked, it has drove before it the blood -red cloud of war and treason.” But says I, “that haint the main reason -why I thought you ought to be President, and so I have told Josiah. I -have said to Josiah more’n a hundred times that any man or woman ought -to be President that knew enough not to talk when they hadn’t nothin’ to -say. But--” says I, for even in that wrapped moment stern principle was -the guide of J. Allen’s wife--“That was when you was run up for President -the first time; I go now for Horace Greeley, and so does Josiah.” - -There haint nothin’ little and envious about Ulysses Grant, he didn’t act -mad a mite, he nodded to me agin as friendly as ever, and after invitin’ -them both in the name of Josiah, to make it thier home with us whenever -they come to Jonesville, and sendin’ my best respects to Julia and Mr. -Dents’es folks, and Skylers’es wife Elliner, I retired to my seat and sot -down. - -When Betsey discovered who I had been talkin’ with, she looked wild at -the thought, but it didn’t rouse in her, the spontanious emotions of -patrotism it did in me. If a barell has been filled up with rain water, -you can’t expect to tap it and have it run strong beer. When any sudden -circumstance taps folks’es minds, they will run out of ’em jest what they -have been filled with, no more, no less. My mind was that filled with -noble emotions of admiration and patrotism, that I entirely forgot for -the minute that I was J. Allen’s wife from Jonesville. But Betsey all -the while remembered B. Bobbet, she also remembered her poetry. I don’t -believe a few earthquakes could make her forget that, her first words was -after she recovered herself, - -“I will make General Grant, that deah, sweet man, a present. Everybody -does, that wants to get onto the right side of him. I will give him a -piece of my poetry. If I remember rightly I have got one in my satchel -bag, all printed out, with a running vine around the edges. There is -45 verses of it, and it is on the war. How fortunate that I brought it -along.” And as she dove her hands into her satchel bag, she continued -dreamily, - -“Mebby he is that liberal and generous turn with his own folks, that -after he has read it, he will give it to some of his wife’s relations. -Mebby there is a few widowehs among them,” and then in a still more -dreamy tone she murmured, “Betsey B. Dent, Washington, D. C.” But anon -or a little after, she roused out of this revery and takin’ the poetry -in her hand, she started down the car, and I bein’ tired, leaned my head -back against the side of the seat, and composed myself together. - -[Illustration: “LET US HAVE PEACE.”] - -I guess I had most got into a nap, when I heard a loud wrathful, eloquent -voice, seemin’ly makin’ a speech to some enimy. It started me up so that -I rose right up onto my feet, and looked round, and there was that noble -General, standin’ up with his hands extended, layin’ it down strong and -decided. I knew what it was in ½ a minute, Betsey Bobbet had done what a -five years uncivel war couldn’t do, nor a admirin’ nation of 20 million -souls. She had got him to makin’ a speech, while Skyler who had smiled -stidely for upwards of 40 years, stood lookin’ on with a dark and awfully -gloomy frown onto him. - -I stood silent for some time lost in the sorrowful feelin’s the scene -called forth, and then almost overcome with my pity for them, I wended my -way towards them. As I drew nearer to them, I heard his words which he -was pourin’ out so eloquently and fluently, “Let us have peace, _Can’t_ -we have peace?” he was yellin’ in such harrowin’ tones, that there wasn’t -hardly a dry eye in my head as I listened. - -“Have I escaped from the horrible danger of war, have I survived the open -bullets of my enimies, and the well meanin’ but almost fatal arrows of my -friends, to expier in this way? To perish by poetry? Is there no sucker -for me? _Can’t_ we have peace?” he screamed in a loud preachin’ tone as -he ketched sight of me, “Can’t we have it, _say_?” - -He was almost delerious. But I laid my hand on his agitated elbow, and -says I in soothin’ tones. - -“Yes Ulysses, you _shall_ have a piece, you shall, Josiah Allen’s wife -will see to it, you _shall_ have a piece.” - -And then I leaned down and whispered a few words into Betsey Bobbett’s -left ear, and she turned quicker’n a flash, and gathered up her poetry -and rushed into the forward car. - -As she disapeared, Skyler’ses face changed from that gloomy sinister -frown, and agin he put on that smile that was upwards of 40 years old, -but was still so sweet and fresh that I knew it was good for another 40 -years--and the General grasped me by the hand sayin’ in agitated tones, - -“There was upwards of 50 of ’em, and she would read ’em.” Says I -soothingly, “I wouldn’t think of it Ulysses, it is all over now. I was -glad to show the gratitude the nation owes to you. I was glad of the -chance to befriend you.” - -“Angel!” says he almost warmly. But I interupted him by sayin’ in a tone -of dignity. “I honor and respect you deeply Ulysses--but in the two names -of Julia and Josiah, I must forbid your callin’ me angel, or any other -pet name.” - -I knew it was only his deep gratitude to me for rescuin’ him from his -peril that made him say it, for he and Julia think the world of each -other. And the good solid principles, colored and morally struck in with -tan bark in his early life, the muddy waters of political life haint been -able to wash out, nor the gilt tinsel of fashionable life to cover up and -destroy. I knew that even there in Washington Avenue, among all the big -men there, he loved his wife, jest as much as if it was the fashion to -love ’em. I knew all this, but still I felt that I must speak as I did, -for principle with J. Allen’s wife--as I have remarked more formally--is -all in all. - -I then turned and followed Betsey, not knowin’ but what she would be a -comin’ back. What I whispered in her left ear was this, that her back -hair was comin’ down, and she bein’ so bald, I knew it would fetch her -down like a arrow in her breast. - -They left at the next Station House, and Betsey and me proceeded onwards -to New York village with no farther coincidences. - - - - -AT NEW YORK, ASTERS’ES TAVERN. - - -The cars didn’t bust up nor break down, which surprised me some, but -which I felt was indeed a blessin’, and at ½ past six Betsey and me stood -on the platform of the depott at New York village. As we stood there -I would have swapped my last new cross barred muslin night cap in my -satchel bag on my arm for a pair of iron ears. I should have been glad of -the loan of a old pair for 16 seconds, if I couldn’t got ’em no longer, -the noise was so distractin’ and awful. - -Says I to myself, “Am I Josiah Allen’s wife, or am I not?” some of the -time I thought I was Josiah, I was so destracted. But though inwardly -so tosted up and down, I kep’ a cool demeaniour outside of me. I stood -stun still, firmly graspin’ my satchel bag, my umberell and my green cap -box--with my best head dress in it, till I had collected myself together, -recolected what my name was, and where I was a goin’. When my senses -come back I thought to myself truly Josiah wasn’t so far out of the way -when he worried over old Tammany, for of all the shameless and brazen -set, on the face of the earth, that set a howlin’ round Betsey Bobbet and -me was the shamelessest and brazenest. - -Now I am naturaily pretty offish and retirin’ in my ways, with strange -men folks. I think it is becomin’ in a woman to be so, instead of bold. -Now when we sot sail from Jonesville, after we got well to ridin’, a man -came through the cars, a perfect stranger to me, but he reached out his -hand to shake hands with me, jest as friendly and famelier as if I was -his step mother. But I didn’t ketch holt of his hand, as some wimmen -would, I jest folded up my arms, and says I, coolly, - -“You have got the advantage of me.” - -But he never took the hint, there he stood stun still in front of me -holdin’ out his hand. And seein’ there was a lot of folks lookin’ on, -and not wantin’ to act odd, I kinder took holt of his hand and shook it -slightly, but at the same time says, - -“Who under the sun you are I don’t know--but you seem determined to -get acquainted with me. Mebby you are some of his folks I haint never -seen--are you related to Josiah on the Allen side or on the Daggett -side?” Josiah’s mother was a Daggett. - -But before I could say any more he spoke up and said all he wanted was -my ticket. I was glad then I had acted offish. For as I say, I don’t -believe in wimmen puttin’ themselves forward and actin’ bold. Not that -that stands in the way of their modistly claimin’ their honest rights. I -have seen enough boldness used by a passel of girls at one huskin’ bee, -or apple cut, to supply 4 presedential elections, and the same number of -female caurkusses, and then have 5 or 6 baskets full left. Havein’ these -modest and reserved feelin’s in my soul--as firm as firm iron--what was -my feelin’s as I stood there on that platform, when a great tall villian -walked up to me and yelled right up close to my bunnet, - -“Will you have a bus mom?” - -If that man had the privilege of livin’ several hundred years, he would -say at the last 100, that he never forgot the look I gave him as he -uttered these infamous words to me. It was a look calculated to scorch -a man to his very soul. It was a look calculated and designed to make a -man sigh for some small knot hole to creep through and hide him from the -gaze of wimmen. I’ll bet 2 cents that he won’t insult another women in -that way very soon. I give him a piece of my mind that he won’t forget -in a hurry. I told him plainly, “That if I wasn’t a married women and a -Methodist, and, was free to kiss who I was a mind to, I had jest as lives -kiss a anacondy, or a boyconstructor, as him,” and I says in conclusion, -“mebby you think because Josiah haint here to protect me, you can talk -to me as you are a mind to. But,” says I, “if I haint got Josiah with -me I have got a good stout umberell.” He quailed silently, and while he -was a quailin’ I turned to Betsey, and asked her if she was ready to -start along, for as true as I live and breathe, I was afraid Betsey was -so of that clingin turn, that she would be a kissen’ some of them men in -spite of my teeth, for thier was a lot of ’em besettin’ her for a bus. -A yellin’ round her “have a bus? Have a bus?” Jest as if that was jest -what Betsey and me had come from Jonesville for. The miserable--lowlived -creeters. - -Betsey seemed to kinder hate to go, but I started her off. For no burdock -bur ever stuck to a horse’s mane, as Josiah Allen’s wife sticks to a -companion, a drawin’ ’em along with her in the cause of Right. As we -wended our way along, walkin’ afoot, she wanted to know what tavern I was -a goin’ to put up to, and I told her “Mr. and Miss Asters’es tavern.” -Says she, “If it was not jest as it was, I would ask you to go to cousin -Ebenezah’s with me. But in the future it may be I shall be freer to act, -than I be now. If I was a married female and had a home of my own heah, -how happy I should be to welcome Jonesville to its blessed presincts. As -deah Tuppah observes--” - -But I interrupted her by sayin’ coolly, “Betsey, I have made up my mind -to put up to Mr. Aster’ses, for Johnothan Beans’es ex-wife, Josiah’s 2nd -cousin, is Miss Aster’ses hired girl.” - -“Is she a widow?” says Betsey. - -“She does a little in that line,” says I in a cautious tone. “She is a -vegetable widow.” I wasn’t goin’ to say “grass widow” right out, though -she _is_ clear grass. For her husband, Johnothan Bean, run away with -another woman 3 years ago this comin’ fall, it was all printed out in -the World at the time. At that very minute we turned on to Broadway, and -Betsey was a sailin’ on ahead of me in gay spirits, a laughin’, and a -talkin’, and a quotin’ Tupper, jest as happy as you please. But as we -turned the corner, I stopped her by ketchin’ holt of her Greek bender, -and says I, - -“I’d have a little respect into me, Betsey Bobbet,” says I. “Less stand -still here, till the funeral procession goes by.” - -So we put a funeral look onto our faces, and stood still a spell, and -they streamed by. I thought my soul there was no end to the mourners. -It seems as if we stood there decently and in order, with a solemn look -onto our faces, becomin’ the solemn occasion, for pretty nigh ½ an hour. -Finally I whispered to Betsey, and says I, - -“Betsey, did you ever see such a gang of mourners in your life?” - -I see her eyes looked kinder sot in her head, and she seemed to be not -really sensin’ what I said. She looked strange. Finally says she, “It is -a sorrowful time, I am composin’ a funeral owed, and I will repeat it to -you soon.” - -I wanted to get her mind off’en that idee, and I continued on a talkin’, - -“It must be some awful big man that is dead. Like as not it is the -Governor of the United States or some deacon or other. Do see ’em -stringin’ along. But how some of the mourners are a behavin’, and how gay -some of the wimmen are dressed. If I had known there was goin’ to be a -funeral in the village, while I was here, some of the mourners might have -had my black bombazeen dress, and my crape viel jest as well as not. I -always make a practice of lendin’ ’em on funeral occasions.” - -Jest then a little boy came sailin’ by, with a segar in his mouth almost -as big as _he_ was. And I ketched holt of him, and whispered to him, - -“Bub who is dead?” and says I, “be you one of the mourners?” - -“Yes, old lady,” says he, in a impudent tone, “I am out on a short mourn.” - -If it hadn’t been for the mournful occasion, and for gettin’ off’en my -dignity, I would have spanked him, then and there; he laughed so impudent -at me. But I let him go on, and then I took out my snowy 25 cent linen -handkerchief and wiped off my heated face, and says I to Betsey, - -“I am wore out; there hain’t no end to this procession seemin’ly, we may -as well go on, for I am beat out, we shall act as well as some of the -mourners do any way, if we do walk on.” So we wended on. Betsey’s cousin -lived not a great ways from Miss Asters’es, only it was down a little -ways another street, up over a store. I told her “I guessed I wouldn’t -climb up them grocery stairs, I was so tuckered out, and then Miss Aster -would most probable have supper about ready, and I didn’t want to have -her fuss to set the table over for me, or steep her tea over, and I felt -that a cup of tea I must have.” - -I was kinder dreadin’ goin’ in alone, not bein’ acquainted with Miss -Aster, and I don’t know when I have been tickleder, than I was to meet -Jonothan Beans’es ex-wife, right on the sidewalk. She was real glad to -see me too, for I befriended her when she first went to grass, (as it -was,) I took her right in for 3 weeks, and give her 2 pair of seamed -stockin’s, and a lot of other things for her comfort. - -She went right back with me. Of all the big houses I ever see, Mr. -Asters’es house beat everything. I was determined not to act green and be -a askin’ questions, and so I didn’t say a word. But I spose from the size -of it, that Mr. Aster lets part of it for meetin’ houses, and mebby they -have a few select schools in it, and a few lunatick asylums, I should -think they would need ’em, such a noise. But I didn’t say a word. - -Jonothan Beans’es ex-wife told me I must put my name down on the -Register before I went to my room, I didn’t object, nor I didn’t ask -no questions, but I kep’ a pretty good look out. “Register!” I knew I -had heard somethin’ that sounded like that, connected with deeds, and I -wasn’t goin’ to sign away my property. I didn’t know as it was so, but -I did have my thoughts, that mebby somebody had told ’em I was comein’ -to the village, and they was tryin’ to get me to sign away my thirds, -there is so much iniquity in the world. But I kep’ my thoughts to myself, -and kep’ my eyes open. I jest looked over the book pretty sharp, before -I put my name down, and I see it was all right. My room was on the 5th -story, and I told J. Beans’es ex-wife that how I was goin’ to climb up -them stairs I didn’t know, I was so tuckered out, I was sorry the minute -I said it, for I was afraid she would go and tell Miss Aster, and Miss -Aster would give up her bedroom to me, or mebby she would make Mr. Aster -sleep with one of the boys, and have me sleep with her, and I wouldn’t -have her put herself out for the world. And I spoke up and says I, - -“I guess I can weather it some way.” - -And she spoke up and says she, “Here is the elevater, be carried up.” - -There was a big nigger comin’ right towards us, and I thought she meant -him, for they have been called such funny names ever since the war, that -I thought likely “Elevater” was one of ’em. But I jest put my foot right -doun to once, says I firmly, - -“I haint a goin’ to be lugged up stairs by that nigger.” And then I was -so afraid that he would hear it, and it would hurt his feelin’s, that I -spoke right up pretty loud, and says I, - -“It haint on account of the gentleman’s dark complexion at all, that I -object. But I don’t think Josiah would like it, to have any other man -carryin’ me round in his arms.” - -But Johnothan Beans’es ex-wife explained it to me. There was a little -room about as big as our smoke house, all fixed off neat as a pin, and -all we had to do was to git in, and then we was histed right up in front -of our room. I was awful glad to be carried up, but I have got some pity -left into me, and I says to her, says I, - -“Haint it awful hard for the man that is drawin’ us up?” Says I, “Is it -Mr. Aster, or is it his hired man?” and says I, “does he do it with a -windlass, like a well bucket? or hand over hand, like drawin’ up water -out of a cistern with a pole?” - -Johnothan Beans’es ex-wife said it was done by machinery, and she said, -for I asked her the first thing, “that there wasn’t no funeral, that -there was jest such a crowd every day.” I didn’t believe her, but I was -too beat out to contend. And glad enough was I, to stretch my weary limbs -in a rockin’ chair. J. Beans’es ex-wife said she would fetch me up a cup -of tea, and my supper to me. She haint forgot the past. - -She told me when she left me that night, to be dreadful careful about the -gass, and not blow it out; she told me jest how it was done, and I’ll bet -Mrs. Aster herself couldn’t do it any neater, for I thought of Josiah, -and the thought of that man nerved me to do it right, so as not to die -and leave him a gass widower, and a lonely man. - -When I waked up in the mornin’ such a noise as I heard. Why, I have -thought sometimes when I was sleepy, that our old rooster “Hail the Day” -makes an awful sight of noise. But good land! if all the roosters in -the United States and Boston, had roosted right under my window, they -couldn’t have begun with it. My first thought as I leaped out of bed -was, “Jonesville is afire.” Then recollectin’ myself, I grew calmer, and -thought mebby Miss Aster had got breakfast ready, and was a hollerin’ -to me. And growin’ still more composed, I gin up that the tramplin’ and -hollerin’ was doun in the street. As I dressed me, I lay out my work for -the day; thinks’es I, “Betsey Bobbet will be so took up with her mission -to her cousin Ebenezer’s, that I shall be rid of her!” It was a sweet -thought to me, and I smiled as I thought it. But alas! as the poet well -observes, “How little we know what is ahead of us.” Thinks’es I, as I -turned the screw and let the water outen the side of the house to wash -me, (Johnothan Beans’es ex-wife had showed me how the night before,) -I must do all I can this day in the cause of Right. If I get that -destracted here that I am threatened with luny, and have to leave before -my time comes, I will go where duty calls me first and most. I should -have been glad to have looked round the village, and got acquainted with -some of Miss Aster’ses neighbors, but though I felt that the neighborin’ -wimmen might think I was real uppish and proud sperited, still I felt -that I could better stand this importation than to desert the cause of -Right for ½ a minute. I felt that Horace, although nearly perfect in -every other respect, needed Josiah Allen’s wife’s influence on a subject -dear to that female’s heart. And I felt that that deluded Miss Woodhull -needed a true and pure principled female to show her plainly where she -stood. Then I laid out to go to Isabella Beecher Hooker’ses. And the time -was short, I knew with every fresh roar of destraction that come up from -the street below, that the time of my stay in that village was short. - -I was so almost lost in these thoughts, that I didn’t see how late it was -a gettin’. I had overslept myself in the first place, bein’ so tuckered -out the night before, and thinks’es I all of a sudden, - -“What will Miss Aster think, my keepin’ her from eatin’ her breakfast so -long?” - -But inwardly, my mind was some composed by thinkin’ it was principle -that had belated me. So I sailed doun stairs. I had put on my best -clothes, my head-dress looked foamin’, my overskirt stood out noble round -my form. And it was with a peaceful mind though some destracted by the -noise, that I wended my way to the breakfast table. - -But instead of all of us a settin’ to one table with Miss Aster to the -head, a pourin’ out tea, there was I’ll bet, more’n a hundred little -tables, with folks settin’ round ’em, a eatin’, and waiters a goin’ all -round amongst ’em, a waitin’ on ’em. And every man waiter had got on one -of his wives white bib aprons. Thinks’es I to myself, what a tussle I -should have with Josiah, to get him to wear one of my aprons round the -house when I had company; he is awful sot aginst wearin’ aprons, it is -all I can do to get one on to him when he is a churnin’. - -Johnothan Beans’es ex-wife ketched my eye, as I went in, and she came and -sot me doun to a little table where there wasn’t nobody. And then she was -drawed off by somebody and left me alone. And I spoke out loud to myself, - -“I’d like to know what I am goin’ to eat, unless I lay to and eat stun -china and glass ware.” And ketchin’ sight of the pepper box, I exclaimed -almost convulsively, - -“I never was much of a hand to eat clear pepper, and nothin’ else.” - -A nigger come up to me at that minute, and said somethin’ in a -frenchified accent about a cart bein’ on my plate, or somethin’ about a -cart, and I see in a minute that he wanted to make out--because I come -from the country--that I wanted a cart load of vittles. I don’t know when -I have been madder. Says I, - -“You impudent creeter, you think because I am from the country, and -Josiah haint with me, that you can impose upon me. Talk to me, will -you, about my wantin’ a cart load of vittles? I should be glad,” says I -in a sarcastic tone, “I should be glad to get somethin’ a little more -nourishin’ than a three tined fork and a towel to eat, but I don’t seem -to run much chance of gettin’ on it here.” - -Before he had time to say anything, J. Beans’es ex-wife came up, and -said somethin’ to me about lookin’ at “Bill the Fair.” I looked down on -the table, and noticed then for the first time that there was a piece of -poetry layin’ there, seemin’ly cut out of some newspaper, I see that she -wanted me to read it, but I told her, “That I wasn’t much of a hand for -poetry anyway, and Betsey Bobbet wrote so much that it made me fairly -sick of it,” and besides, says I, “I have left my specks up stairs, I -forgot ’em till I got most down here.” - -But jest then I happened to think, mebby she had wrote it herself, I -don’t want to hurt nobody’s feelin’s, and says I, in a pleasant tone, - -“I presume “Bill the Fair,” is a good piece of poetry, and if you haint -no objection, I will take it home with me, and put it into Tirzah Ann’s -scrap book.” She started off before I fairly got through speakin’ and -I folded up the poetry and put it into my pocket, and in a minute’s -time back she came with some first rate vittles. She knows what I like -jest as well as I do, havin’ lived with us a spell, as I said, when she -first went to grass. She knows jest what a case I am for store tea; but -she asked me what kind of tea I wanted, and I spoke right out before I -thought, - -“Anything but sage tea, I can’t bear that.” - -But then I happened to think I see they was all a drinkin’ coffee round -me, I knew they was by the smell. And I thought mebby from her speakin’ -to me in that way that she meant to give me a little hint that Miss Aster -was out of store tea, and says I, kinder loud for she had started off. -“If Miss Aster is short on it for store tea, she needn’t fuss for me, she -needn’t borry any on my account, I can drink sage tea if I set out to.” - -But I thought to myself, that I had rather have brought a drawin’ of tea -in my pocket clear from Jonesville, than to have gone without it; while I -was jest thinkin’ this, Jonothan Beans’es ex-wife came back with a first -rate cup of tea, strong enough to bear up a egg. - -The more I looked round and see the droves of hungry folks, the sorrier -I felt for Miss Aster. And I spoke to J. Beans’es ex-wife as she brought -me my last vittles, says I, “If there is a woman on the face of the hull -earth I am sorry for, it is Miss Aster, how on earth can she ever cook -enough to fill this drove of folks?” says I, “How can she ever stand up -under it?” And carried almost away with my sympathy, I says to Jonothan -Beans’es ex-wife, - -“You tell Miss Aster from me that she needn’t make no fuss about the -dinner at all, I will eat a picked up dinner, I had jest as lives as not, -I didn’t come down here to put her out and make her any trouble.” - -I heard a little noise to one side of me, and I looked round and there -was a feller and two girls a snickerin’ and laughin’, right at me. They -was rigged out awful fashionable, but I guess their brains had run to -their hair mostly, the girls on their heads, and his’en on his face, such -sights of it. But I don’t believe they was very well off, for every one -of ’em had broke one eye off’en their spectacles, and they lifted up that -one eye, and looked at me through it, a laughin’ at the same time as if -they would split. But it didn’t put me out a bit, I glared back at ’em, -as sharp as they did at me, and says I, - -“Laugh away if you want to, I know what it is to cook over a hot cook -stove in the summer time, it tuckers anybody out, even if they have got -good help, and I am sorry for Miss Aster.” - -They snickered worse than ever, and I got mad, and says I, - -“I don’t wonder you laugh! there haint no more pity and humanity in the -whole lot on you, than there is in a three tined pitchfork, and no wonder -when you see somebody that has got a little pity and generosity into ’em, -it is more of a amusement and novelty to you than a circus would be.” - -As I said this, I rose up in almost fearful dignity, and sailed away from -the table up to my room. - -As I opened the door I heard a dreadful curious noise, a kind of a -gurglin’ gushin’ sound, and when I opened the door, of all the freshets I -ever see, I had forgot to turn back the little screw, and the water was a -gushin’ out all over. Jonothen Beans’es ex wife, happened to come along -jest then, and she sent up a nigger with a mop, and a lot of cloths, and -I turned to, and helped him, she told me not to, but says I, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife haint one to shirk when there is work to do,” and -says I, “you tell Miss Aster, after I get through here, I had jest as -lives come down and help her wash up the breakfast dishes as not,” says -I, lookin’ thoughtfully at my overskirt, “I don’t really want to put my -hands into the dish water on account of my dress, but I had jest as lives -wipe ’em as not.” - -But J. Beans’es ex wife said there wasn’t no need of my helpin’, and so -after I got my room all slicked up and my bed made (she told me to leave -my bed, but I wusn’t goin’ to act so slack) I sot down a minute to rest, -before I set sail in the cause of Right. - -I was jest a thinkin’ that Betsey Bobbet was safe in the house of -mournin’, and there was a sweet and satisfied smile on my face, as I -thought it, when all of a sudden the door opened, and in she walked. My -heart sunk pretty near ½ an inch. But I ketched holt of my principles, -and says I, - -“What is the matter Betsey?” For she looked as if she had been cryin’ her -eyes out. “Is your cousin no more? has Ebineezah suicided himself?” - -“No moah!” says she in a indignant tone. “She is gettin’ well, and -Ebineezah is as happy as a king about it, she has been takin’ cod liveh -oil, and “Cherry Pectorial,” and they have cured her, I hate Cherry -Pectorial, and cod liveh oil, they are nasty stuffs.” - -Says I, in a insinuatin’ tone, “you are goin’ back there haint you?” - -“No!” says she indignantly, “I won’t stir a step back, they are so -tickled about her gettin’ bettah, that they don’t use me with no respect -at all.” And there was a tear in her eye as she added in sorrowful tones, -“Ebineezah told me that if it hadn’t been for that cod liveh oil, he -should have been a widowah, and a lonely man to-day. No!” says she takin’ -off her hat and throwin’ it in a angry fierce way onto the bed, “I won’t -stir a step back, I won’t stay anotheh minute in the same house with cod -liver oil, I perfectly despise it.” - -I see there was no use a arguin’ with her, the arrow had struck too -deep, I see my fate, Betsey had got to accompany me on my high and lofty -mission. For a minute I thought wildly of escape, of gettin’ her out of -the room on some errent for a minute, and then tyin’ the sheets together -and lowerin’ myself down from the winder. But better feelin’s rose inside -of me, Betsey was a human bein’, I, belonged to the meetin’ house. All -these nobler emotions tied up my tongue, I said nothin’ but I turned and -concluded the wild tumult of my feelin’s, by takin’ the gingham case -off’en my umberell I was goin’ to carry with me, and puttin’ on my bunnet -we started out for our promenade. - -[Illustration: ON THE STREET.] - - - - -MEET DR. MARY WALKER. - - -No cambric needle ever had its eye sot any keener and firmer onto the -North pole, than Josiah Allen’s wife had her keen gray eye aimed at the -good of the Human Race, so I thought I would go and see Horace first. But -Jonothan Beans’es ex-wife told me he had gone away for the day, to some -great rally in a neighborin’ village. I didn’t have the least idee what -she meant by “rally,” but I answered her in a bland way that “I hoped he -would have good luck and get quite a mess of it,” and then says I, “It -won’t make a mite of difference with me, I can go to Miss Woodhulls’es -first.” - -Betsey was rampent to go to the Theater, “Barnums Amusement,” and the -“Centre of the Park,” and some of the meetin’ houses with big steeples, -and other places of amusement. But I says to her as we wended our way -on, “Betsey, these old bones of mine will repose in Jonesville to-morrer -night, as the poet saith, ‘In my own delightful feather bed.’ And -Betsey, they couldn’t rest there, if they looked back and see that they -didn’t do all they could while here, for the advancement of the Race, and -for improvin’ of my own mind.” Says I, “I didn’t come to this village for -vain pleasure, I have got a high mission to perform about, and a mind to -improve upon.” - -I thought we would jest run in a few minutes to Miss Hookers’es, but her -hired girl says to me at the door says she, - -“Miss Hooker is engaged.” - -I looked the hired girl full in the face, and says I, - -“What of it, what if she is?” - -Then says the hired girl, “She hain’t to home.” - -Says I, “Why didn’t you say so, in the first out, and not go to beatin’ -round the bush.” Says I, for I was determined to do all the good I could -to the Human Race, “Miss Hooker is a first rate woman, and it haint a -hired girl’s place to talk about her mistress’es family matters and love -affairs.” - -When we got to Miss Woodhulls’es we went up the front doorsteps, and I -knocked to the door, Betsey says, “Ring the bell.” - -Well says I, “I hain’t particuler, hand it along.” I thought mebby she -had got one in her pocket, and wanted me to ring it to pass away the -time, while we was standin’ on the doorstep a waitin’ for Miss Woodhull -to come and open the door. - -But Betsey reached by me, and took holt of a little silver nub, by the -side of the door, put there for a orniment, and pulled it. - -Says I, “Don’t be so impatient Betsey. She’ll be here in a minute, don’t -go to foolin’ and tearin’ the house down to pass away time.” - -Jest at that minute a little Black African came to the door, he looked -impudent at us, and says he, - -“Miss Woodhull hain’t to home,” and he shet the door right in our faces. -We was jest goin’ down the doorsteps, when the door opened agin, and a -little figger came out, that at the first view baffled me. Says I to -myself, “Is it a man, or is it a woman?” It had a woman’s face but a -man’s pantaloons. I was baffled. But Josiah Allen’s wife hain’t one to -give up the ship while there is ½ a plank left. I was determined to get -all the knowledge I could while on my tower. I was determined to get -information on every deep and mysterious subject I could. And so I walked -up to it, and says I in a low voice and polite as I could, for fear of -hurtin’ its feelin’s, - -“Be you a man sir? or a women mom?” - -It wasn’t mad a bit, (I say _it_, for I didn’t know then in what gender -to put it.) It looked me so pleasant in the face, and yet so searchin’ly, -that I was kinder flustrated, and says I, in a kind of awe struck tone, - -“I hope you won’t be offended, I only ask for information. Be you a -masculine, femenine or neutral gender?” - -It smiled agin, jest as pleasant as one of my glass jars of maple sugar, -and then it opened its mouth and said, - -“I am Dr. Mary Walker.” - -I don’t know when I have been so tickled; nothin’ is sweeter than -knowledge to the inquirin’ mind, when it has been baffled. Says I, - -“Mary I am glad to see you,” and I give her hand such a shakin’ that it -looked red as a beet when I leggo. Says I, - -“I am gladder to see you than I would be to see any nephew or neice I -have got in the world. I am as glad to see you as I would be to see any -brother or sister of mine.” - -Says she, “I can’t recall your countenance.” - -Says I, “Mary, I am Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -“Oh!” says she, “I have read your eloquent orations on wimmin’ havin’ a -right. I am happy to make your acquaintance.” Then and there I introduced -Betsey. - -Says she, “Did you call to see Miss Woodhull?” - -“Yes,” says I, “I wanted to talk to her, for she is in the wrong, but she -haint to home.” - -Says she, “she is to home, and you shall see her, a few friends of the -cause, have met here to-day, but they are about all gone.” She went right -up the doorsteps agin, and instead of knockin’, she ketched holt of that -silver nob, that Betsey had been a foolin’ with. Mary was so excited that -she didn’t really know what she was about, or else she would have made -some move towards gettin’ in to the house. But it was jest as well, for -that impudent faced little Black African happened to come to the door -agin jest at the right time. And she spoke up kinder sharp like, - -“Show these ladies into the parlor, they are friends of mine, and Miss -Woodhull will be glad to see ’em.” - -He looked as if he would sink, and I didn’t care if he did, clear through -to the suller. I should have been glad to have seen him sunk. - -I looked severe at him after I had gripped Mary’s hand, and parted with -her. He held the door open awful polite, and in a kind of a apoligy way -he murtered somethin’ about, - -“Sposin’ Miss Woodhull was engaged.” - -Says I pretty sharp, “Sposin’ she is engaged, is that any reason you -should turn Betsey and me out doors?” Says I, “I didn’t keep our folks’es -doors locked up when I got engaged to Josiah.” Says I, “sposen’ Miss -Woodhull is engaged, she ought to have been engaged, and married, years -ago.” - -I was in the wrong, and I see it, and ketched holt of my principles -convulsively, for I see that my indignant emotions towards that little -lyin’ imp was a shakin’ ’em. I hadn’t no right to be a speakin’ aginst -the woman of the house to their hired help. I felt as mean as pusley to -think I had done it, and says I, mildly, - -“I am glad Miss Woodhull is engaged to be married, it takes a load off’en -my mind,” says I, “I presume she will settle doun and make a real likely -woman.” - -At that minute, a door opened right across the hall, and a man come out -and shet it agin, and he ketched right holt of my arm, the first thing, -and says he, - -“Come, Marier Jane, or Marier Ann,” says he, “I can’t really call to mind -your precise name this minute, but I think it is Marier any way, or mebby -it is Mary Ann. Come, Mary Ann, it is time to be a goin’ home.” - -I looked at him with almost fearful dignity, and I says to him with a -air so cold that he must have thought it blowed off of Greenland’s icy -mountain, - -“Leggo of my arm!” - -But he never budged a inch, and I jest raised my umberell, and says I, -“If you don’t leggo of my arm, I’ll make you leggo.” - -Then he leggo. And he stood back a little, but he looked piercin’ly and -searchin’ly into my face, and says he, - -“You are my wife, haint you?” - -Then again I spoke with that fearful dignity, and that cold and icy air, -50 degrees under Mr. Zero it was, if it was a degree. - -“No Sir! I am proud and happy to say I am not your wife, I am Josiah -Allen’s wife.” - -He looked real meachin’, and says he, “I beg your pardon mom, but I’ve -only been married to my last wife a few hours, havin’ got a divorce from -a former companion after dinner yesterday, and I have been so busy since, -that I haven’t really got the run of her face yet, though I thought,” he -added dreamily, “that I should know that nose agin any where.” - -I see that he was imposin’ on me. But I wasn’t goin’ to have my nose -throwed in my face by him, and says I, “I am aware that my nose is a -pretty sizeable one. But,” says I, in about as sarcastic a voice as I -ever used in my life “it is a nose that haint never been wore off, and -made smaller a pokin’ into other folks’es affairs. Pokin’ round a tryin’ -to find wives where there haint none.” - -“But mom, I was married between daylight and dark, and--” - -But I wouldn’t stay to hear another word of his apoligys, I jest turned -my back onto him, when the door opened agin, and a woman came out, and -I’ll be hanged if her nose didn’t look like mine--a honorable Roman. The -man looked at her in a kind of a undecided way, but she walked right up -and took holt of his arm, and he brightened up, and says he. “Are you -goin’ home now Mary Ann?” - -“Yes,” says she, “but my name haint Mary Ann, it is Mehitable.” - -“Wall,” said he, “I knew there was a M in it.” And he walked off with -her, with a proud and triumphant mene. - - - - -INTERVIEW WITH THEODORE AND VICTORY. - - -The young black African opened the door and says he, “Josiah Allen’s -wife, and Betsey Bobbet, mom.” He had asked us our names jest before he -opened it. - -Miss Woodhull was a standin’ pretty near the door, a talkin’ with 3 -wimmin as we went in. But she come forward immediatly and put out her -hand. I took it in mine, and shook it a very little, mebby 3 or 4 times -back and forth. But she must have felt by that cool, cautious shake, that -I differed from her in her views, and had come to give her a real talkin’ -to. - -One of the wimmen she was a talkin’ to, had jest about as noble a -lookin’ face as I ever see, with short white curls a fallin’ all round -it. The beholder could see by the first glance onto that face, that she -hadn’t spent all the immortal energies of her soul in makin’ clover leaf -tattin’, or in cuttin’ calico up into little pieces, jest to sew ’em -togather agin into blazin’ stars and sunflower bedquilts. It was the face -of an earnest noble woman, who had asked God what He wanted her to do, -and then hadn’t shirked out of doin’ it. Who had gripped holt of life’s -plough, and hadn’t looked back because the furrows turned over pretty -hard, and the stumps was thick. - -She knew by experience that there was never any greensward so hard to -break up, as old prejudices and customs; and no stumps so hard to get -round as the ridicule and misconceptions of the world. What made her -face look so calm then, when she was doin’ all this hard work? Because -she knew she was makin’ a clearin’ right through the wilderness that in -the future was goin’ to blossom like a rose. She was givin’ her life -for others, and nobody ever did this since the days of Jesus, but what -somethin’ of his peace is wrote doun on thier forwards. That is the way -Elizabeth Cady Stanton looked to me, as Miss Woodhull introduced me and -Betsey to her, and to the two other ladies with her. - -One of the other wimmen I fell in love with at first sight, and I suppose -I should have been jest so partial to her if she had been as humbly as -one of the Hotentots in my old Olney’s Geography, and I’ll tell you why, -because she was the sister of H. W. Beecher. As a general thing I don’t -believe in settin’ folks up, because they happen to have smart relations. -In the words of one of our sweetest and noblest writers, “Because a man -is born in a stable it don’t make him a horse.” Not as a general thing, -it don’t. - -But not once in 100 years does Nature turn out such a man as H. W. B. It -takes her longer than that to get her ingregiences and materials togather -to make such a pure sweet nature, such a broad charity, and such a -intellect as his’en. Why, if the question had been put to me before I was -born, whether I would be born his sister, or the twin sister of the queen -of England, I’d never give a second thought to Miss Victoria Albert, not -but what I respect the Widder Albert deeply, I think she is a real nice -woman. But I had ruther be his sister than to be the sister of 21 or 22 -other kings. For he is a king not make by the layin’ on of earthly hands, -he is God’s own annointed, and that is a royalty that can’t be upsot. So -as I remarked I s’pose Isabella Beecher Hooker would have looked pretty -good to me any way. - -The other lady was smart and sensible lookin’, but she was some like me, -she won’t never be hung for her beauty. This was Susan B. Anthony. Betsey -Bobbet sot down on a chair pretty nigh the door, but I had considerable -talk with Susan. The other two was awful long discussin’ some question -with Miss Woodhull. - -Susan said in the course of her remarks that “she had made the ‘Cause of -Wimmen’s Rights,’ her husband, and was going to cleave to it till she -died.” - -I told her I was deeply interested in it, but I couldn’t marry myself to -it, because before gettin’ acquainted with it, I had united myself to -Josiah. - -We had considerable reasonable and agreeable talk, such as would be -expected from two such minds as mine and hern, and then the three ladies -departed. And Miss Woodhull came up to me agin kinder friendly, and says -she, - -“I am glad to meet you Josiah Allen’s wife,” and then she invited me to -set down. As I turned round to get a chair I see through a door into -another room where sot several other wimmen--some up to a table, and -all dreadful busy readin’ papers and writin’ letters. They looked so -business-like and earnest at thier work, that I knew they could not have -time to back-bite thier neighbors, and I was glad to see it. As I took -my seat I see a awful handsome gentleman settin’ on a sofa--with long -hair put back behind his ears,--that I hadn’t ketched sight of before. -It was Theodore Tilton, and Miss Woodhull introduced him to Betsey and -me. He bowed to Betsey, but he came forward and took my hand in his’en. -I couldn’t refuse to take it, but I looked up in his handsome face with -a look about two thirds admiration, and one of sorrow. If the handsomest -and best feathered out angel, had fell right over the walls of heaven -into our dooryard at Jonesville, I couldn’t have give it a more piercin’, -and sort of pitiful look than I did him. I then turned and silently -put my umberell in the corner and sot down. As I did so, Miss Woodhull -remarked to Mr. Tilton, - -“She is a Strong Wimmen’s Righter, she is one of us.” - -[Illustration: HARD AT WORK] - -“No, Victory; I haint one of you, I am Josiah Allen’s wife.” Then I -sithed. And says I, “Victory you are in the right on it, and you are in -the wrong on it,” and says I, “I come clear from Jonesville to try to set -you right where you are wrong.” Says I, almost overcome with emotion. -“You are younger than I Victory, and I want to talk with you jest as -friendly as if I was your mother in law.” - -Says she, “Where do you think I am in the right, and where do you think I -am in the wrong?” - -Says I, “You are right in thinkin’ what a solemn thing it is to bring -up children as they ought to be. What an awful thing it is to bring the -little creeters into the world without their votin’ on the subject at -all, and then neglect ’em, and abuse ’em, and make their poor little days -awful long in the world, and then expect them to honor you for it. You -are right in your views of health, and wimmin’s votin’ and etcetery--but -you are wrong Victory, and I don’t want you to get mad at me, for I say -it with as friendly feelin’s as if I was your mother in law,--you are -wrong in this free love business, you are wrong in keepin’ house with two -husbands at the same time.” - -“Two husbands! it is false; I was divorced from him, and my husband and -I found him perishing in the streets, and we took him home and took care -of him ’till he died. Which would the Lord have done Josiah Allen’s -wife, passed by on the other side, or took pity on him?” - -“I don’t know what the Lord would have done Victory, but I believe I -should have sent him to a good horsepittle or tarven, and hired him took -care of. I never could stand it to have another husband in the same house -with me and Josiah. It would seem so kind o’ curious, somethin’ in the -circus way. I never could stand it never.” - -“There have been a good many things Josiah Allen’s wife that you have not -been required to stand, God and man united you to a good husband whom you -love. But in your happiness you shouldn’t forget that some other woman -has been less fortunate. In your perfect happiness, and harmony--” - -“Oh!” says I candidly, “I don’t say but what Josiah and me have had our -little spats Victory. Josiah will go in his stockin’ feet considerable -and--” - -But she interrupted of me with her eyes a flashin’, - -“What would you say to livin’ with a man that forgot every day of his -life that he was a man, and sunk himself into a brute. Leaving his young -wife of a week for the society of the abandoned? What would you say to -abuse, that resulted in the birth of a idiot child? Would you endure -such a life? Would you live with the animal that he had made himself? I -married a man, I never promised God nor man that I would love, honor and -obey the wild beast he changed into. I was free from him in the sight of -a pure God, long enough before the law freed me.” - -I let her have her say out, for Josiah Allen’s wife is one to let every -man or mouse tell thier principles if they have got any. And if I was -conversin’ with the overseer of the bottomless pit, (I don’t want to -speak his name right out, bein’ a Methodist), I would give him a chance -to get up and relate his experience. But as she stopped with her voice -kinder choked up, I laid my brown cotton glove gently onto her shoulder, -and says I, - -“Hush up Victory,” says I “wimmen must submit to some things, they can -pray, and they can try to let thier sorrows lift ’em nearer to heaven, -makin’ angels of ’em.” - -Here Mr. Tilton spoke up and says he, “I don’t believe in the angels -exclusively, I don’t see why there shouldn’t be he angels, as well as she -ones.” - -I was tickled, and I looked at him approvin’ly, and says I, - -“Theodore you are the first man with one exception that I ever see that -felt that way, and I respect you for it.” Says I, “men as a general -thing think that wimmen have got to do up all the angel business there -is done. Men seem to get the idee that they can do as they are a mind to -and the Lord will wink at ’em. And there are lots of things that the -world thinks would be awful coarse in a woman, but is all right in a -man. But I don’t believe a man’s cigar smoke smells any sweeter to the -Lord than a woman’s would. And I don’t believe a coarse low song, sounds -any sweeter and purer in the ears of angels, because it is sung in a -base voice instead of a sulfereno. I never could see why men couldn’t do -somethin’ in the angel line themselves, as well as to put it all on to -the wimmen, when they have got everything else under the sun to do. Not -but what,” says I, “I am willen’ to do my part. I never was a shirk, and -Josiah Allen will tell you so, I am willin’ to do my share of the angel -business.” And says I, in a generous way, “I would do it all, if I only -had time. But I love to see justice and reason. Nature feathers out geese -and ganders equally, or if there is any difference the gander’s wings -are the most foamin’ lookin’. Men’s shoulders are made jest the same way -that wimmen’s are; feathers would look jest as well on ’em as on a woman, -they can cultivate wings with jest as little trouble. What is the purest -and whitest unseen feathers on a livin’ angel’s hidden wing, Theodore and -Victory? They are purity, goodness, and patience, and men can grow these -unbeknown feathers jest as easy as a woman can if they only set out.” - -I had spoke real eloquent, and I knew it, but I felt that I had been -carried away slightly by my emotions, from the mission I had come on--to -try to convince Miss Woodhull where she was wrong. And so after a minutes -silence, I broke out agin mildly, for I felt that if I give way to anger -or impatience my mission was lost. - -“Another thing you are wrong in Victory, is to think you can be lawfully -married without any minister or justice of the peace. I knew that all you -needed was to have it set before you plain by some female that wished you -well; you are wrong in it Victory, and I tell you so plain, and to show -you that I am your well wisher, I thought after I had convinced you that -you was in the wrong, I would make you this offer. That if you and Col. -Blood will go home with Betsey and me, Elder Wesley Minkley shall marry -you right in my parlor, and it shan’t cost you a cent, for I will pay him -myself in dried apples.” - -Says she, “I don’t want any ceremony, I want the only tie to hold me to -my husband to be love, the one sacred tie.” - -“Love is a first rate tie,” says I, mildly, holdin’ on to my temper first -rate, “upwards of 15 years ago, I give one of the most remarkable proofs -of it, that has ever been seen in this country;” (and for a minute my -mind wandered off onto that old revery, _why_ did I love Josiah Allen?) -But collectin’ my mind together I spoke onwards, with firm and cast iron -principle. “Still, although I felt that sacred tie unitin’ Josiah and -me in a double beau knot that couldn’t be untwisted, the first time we -met, still, if Elder Wesley Minkley hadn’t united us at the alter--or -mother’s parlor, I should have felt dreadful floatin’ round in my mind. -It would have seemed too curious and onstiddy kinder, as if Josiah and me -was liable to fall all to pieces at any time, and waver off in the air -like two kites that had broke loose from thier strings.” Says I, firmly, -“Thier would be a looseness to it, I couldn’t stand.” - -She said I would get accustomed to it, and that custom made many things -seem holy that were unholy, and many things sinful that were pure in the -sight of God. - -But still I murmured with a sad look, but firm as old Bunker Hill, “I -couldn’t stand it, Victory, it would seem too much like a circus. - -“And then agin, Victory, you are in the wrong of it about divorces. ‘What -God has joined togather let no man put asunder.’” - -Says she, “Josiah Allen’s wife, if divorces were free to-morrow, would -you get one from Josiah?” - -“Never!” says I, and my best dress most bust open at the breast, (them -biases always was took up a little too snug) at the idee of partin’ from -Josiah. - -“Well, what is it that would hold you so fast to each other that nothin’ -but death could separate you? was it the few words you said before the -minister?” - -“It was love, Victory! love, that wouldn’t let me eat a mite, nor sleep -a wink, if I couldn’t put my hand onto Josiah Allen any time day or -night.” - -“Then,” says she, “why not give other good men and women credit for bein’ -actuated by the same sentiments? Those that God has joined togather, no -man _can_ put asunder. Those who are really married heart and sole, would -never separate, it would only correct abuses, and separate those that -man, and not God, had joined togather.” - -Says I, “Victory, is there any particular need of folks lettin’ man join -’em togather, when God hasn’t?” says I; “if folks was obleeged to marry, -there would be some sense in such talk,” says I, “they haint no business -to marry if they don’t love each other. All sin brings its punishment, -and them that commit the crime aginst thier own sole, of marryin’ without -love, ought to be punished by unhappiness in thier domestic relations, -what else can they expect?” says I. “Marriage is like baptism, now some -folks say it is a savin’ audnence, I say nobody haint any right to be -baptised unless they are saved already. Nobody haint any business to put -on the outward form of marriage, if they haint got the inward marriage of -the spirit.” - -“Some folks marry for a home,” says she. - -“Wall, they haint no business to,” says I warmly. “I had ruther live out -doors under a umberell, all my days.” - -“Those are my sentiments exactly, Josiah Allen’s wife. But you can’t -deny that people are liable to be decieved.” - -“If they are such poor judges the first time, what would hender ’em -from bein’ decieved the next time, and so on, ad infinitum, to the -twentieth and thirtieth time?” says I firmly. “Instead of folks bein’ -tied together looser, they ought to be tied as tight agin. If folks knew -they couldn’t marry agin, how many divorces do you suppose there would -be? No doubt there are individual cases, where there is great wrong, and -great sufferin’. But we ought to look out for the greatest good to the -greatest number. And do you realize, Victory, what a condition society -would be in, if divorces was absolutely free? The recklessness with -which new ties would be formed, the lovin’ wimmen’s hearts that would -be broken by desertion, the children that would be homeless and uncared -for. When a fickle man or woman gets thier eyes onto somebody they like -better than they do thier own lawful pardners, it is awful easy to think -that man, and not God, has jined ’em. But let folks once get the idee -into thier heads, that marriage is a solemn thing, and lasts as long as -thier lives do, and they can’t get away from each other, they will be -ten times as careful to live peacible and happy with thier companions.” -Says I, “When a man realizes that he can if he wants to, start up and -marry a woman before breakfast, and get divorced before dinner, and have -a new one before supper time, it has a tendency to make him onstiddy and -worrysome.” - -Says I, “Victory, men are dreadful tryin’ by spells, do you suppose I -have lived with one for upwards of 15 years, and hain’t found it out? -But suppose a mother deserts a child because he is wormy, and tears his -breeches. She brought him into the world, and it is her duty to take care -of him. Do you suppose a store keeper ought to take back a pink calico -dress, after you have made it up, and washed it because the color washes -out of it, you ought to have tried it before it was cut off. I married -Josiah Allen with both eyes open, I didn’t wear spectacles then, I wasn’t -starved to it nor thumbscrewed into it, and it is my duty to make the -best of him.” - -Says she, “When a woman finds that her soul is clogged and hampered, it -is a duty she owes to her higher nature to find relief.” - -Says I, “When a woman has such feelin’s, instead of leavin’ her lawful -husband and goin’ round huntin’ up a affinitee, let her take a good -thoroughwert puke. Says I, in 9 and ½ cases out of 10, it is folkes’es -stomachs that are clogged up insted of their souls. Says I, there -is nothin’ like keepin’ the stomach in good order to make the moral -sentiments run good. Now our Tirzah Ann, Josiah’s girl by his first wife, -I kinder mistrusted that she was fallin’ in love with--” I almost said -it right out Shakespeare Bobbet, but I thought of Betsey, and turned -it “with a little feller that hadn’t hardly got out of his roundabouts, -she bein’ at the same time in pantalettes. Well I give her a good -thoroughwert puke, and it cured her, and if his mother,” says I with a -keen look onto Betsey, as I thought of my night of troubles, “If his -mother had served him in the same way, it would have saved some folks a -good deal of sufferin’.” - -I see that agin I was wanderin’ off’en the subject, and I says in a deep -solemn tone, - -“I don’t believe in this divorcin’.” - -Mr. Tilton spoke up for most the first time, and says he, “I think you -are wrong in your views of divorce, Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -I looked into his handsome face and my feelin’s rose up strong I couldn’t -throw ’em, they broke loose and says I, in almost tremblin’ tones, - -“It is you that are in the wrong on it, Theodore,” says I, “Theodore, -I have read your poetry when it seemed as if I could ride right up to -heaven on it, though I weigh 200 and 10 pounds by the steelyards. There -is one piece by the name of “Life’s Victory.” I haint much of a hand for -poetry, but I read it for the first time when I was sick, and it seemed -as if it carried me so near to heaven, that I almost begun to feather -out. And when I found out who the author was, he seemed as near to me -as Thomas Jefferson, Josiah’s boy by his first wife. Theodore, I have -kept sight of you ever sense, jest as proud of you, as if you was my -own son-in-law, and when you went off into this free love belief I felt -bad.” I took out my white 25 cent handkerchif, for a tear came within I -should say half or three quarters of a inch from my eye-winkers. I held -my handkerchif in my hand, the tear come nearer and nearer--he looked -agitated--when up spoke Miss Woodhull. - -“It is perfectly right; I believe in free divorce, free love, freedom in -everything.” - -I jest jammed my handkerchif back into my pocket, for that tear jest -turned round and traveled back to where it come from. I thought I had -used mildness long enough, and I says to her in stern tones, - -“Victory, can you look me straight in the spectacles, and say that you -think this abominable doctrine of free love is right?” - -“Yes mom, I can, I believe in perfect freedom.” - -Says I, “That is what burglers and incendiarys say,” says I, “that is -the word murderers and Mormans utter,” says I “that is the language of -pirates, Victory Woodhull.” - -She pretty near quailed, and I proceeded on, “Victory, there haint -but one true liberty, and that is the liberty of the Gospel, and it -haint Gospel liberty to be surrounded by a dozen husbands’es and -ex-husbands’es,” says I, “this marryin’ and partin’ every day or to, -haint accordin’ to Skripter.” - -Says she in a scornful tone, “What is skripter?” If I had been her mother -I would have spanked her then and there. But I wasn’t, and I jest turned -my back to her, and says I, “Mr. Tilton you believe the bible don’t you?” - -“Yes mom, I do, but the bible justifies divorce.” - -“Yes,” says I, “for one cause, and no other, and the Saviour says that -whosoever marries a woman put away for any but the bible cause, commits -adultery, and I don’t believe in adulteration, nor Josiah don’t either. -But,” says I, convulsivly, “You know a man will part with a woman nowadays -if the butter don’t come quick, and she will part with him if he don’t -hang up the bootjack. Is that bible Theodore?” Says I, “don’t the bible -say that except for that one reason, man and wife are married till death -parts ’em.” Says I, “is a lawyer in a frock coat, with a lot of papers -stickin’ out of his breast pocket, death?” Says I, “tell me Theodore is -he death?” - -He looked convinced, and says he, “No mom, he haint.” - -“Well then, what business has that little snip of a livin’ lawyer to go -round tryin’ to make out he is death? tell me?” says I almost wildly. - -I see my emotions was almost carryin’ me off, and I ketched holt of my -dignity, and continued in deep solemn tones, “True marriage is a sacred -thing, and it is a solemn thing, it is as solemn as bein’ baptized. And -if you are baptized once in the way you ought to be, it is enough. But -the best way you can fix it, it is a solemn thing Victory. To give your -whole life and soul into the keepin’ of somebody else. To place all your -hopes, and all your happiness in another human bein’ as a woman will. A -true woman if she loves truly, never gives half of her heart or three -quarters, she gives it all. She never asks how much shall I get back in -money and housen and finery? or whether she could do better in another -direction. No; True Love is a river that runs onward askin’ no questions -of anybody, sweepin’ right on with a full heart. And where does that -river empty Theodore and Victory?” - -They both looked as solemn as a protracted meetin’, almost, as I looked -at ’em, first one, then the other, through my specs; but they didn’t -reply. Says I, in a deep solemn tone, “the name of the place where -that river emptys is Eternity.” Says I, “That river of True Love as it -flows through the world gets riley sometimes, by the earthly mud on its -banks. Sometimes it gets mad and precipitates itself over precipices, -and sometimes it seemin’ly turns backward a spell. But in its heart it -knows where it is bound for, it keeps on growin’ broader, and deeper, -and quieter like, and as it jines the ocian it leaves all its mud on the -banks, for God cleanses it, and makes it pure as the pure waters it flows -into.” - -I felt real eloquent as I said this, and it seemed to impress ’em as I -wanted it to. They both of ’em have got good faces. Though I didn’t like -their belief, I liked their looks. They looked sincere and honest. - -Agin I repeated, “Marriage is a solemn thing.” - -I heard a deep sithe behind me, and a sorrowful voice exclaimed, - -“It is solemn then both ways, you say it is solemn to marry, and I -know”--here was another deep sithe “I _know_ it is solemn not to.” It was -Betsey, she was a thinkin’ of the Editer of the Augur, and of Ebineezer, -and of all the other dear gazelles, that lay cold and lifeless in her -buryin’ ground. I felt that I could not comfort her, and I was silent. -Miss Woodhull is a well bread woman, and so to kinder notice Betsey, and -make talk with her, says she, - -“I believe you are the author of these lines - - ‘If wimmen had a mice’s will, - They would arise and get a _bill_?’” - -“Yes,” says Betsey, tryin’ to put on the true modesty of jenieus look. - -Miss Woodhull said “she had heard it sung to several free love -conventions.” - -“How true it is,” says Betsey glancin’ towards Mr. Tilton, “that deathless -fame sometimes comes by reason of what you feel in your heart haint the -best part of you. Now in this poem I speak hard of man, but I didn’t feel -it Miss Woodhull, I didn’t feel it at the time, I wrote it jest for -fame and to please Prof. Gusheh. I love men,” says she, glancin’ at Mr. -Tilton’s handsome face, and hitchin’ her chair up closer to his’en. - -“I almost worship ’em.” - -Theodore began to look uneasy, for Betsey had sot down close by the side -of him and says she, - -“Did you ever read the soul stirrin’ lines that Miss Woodhull refers to, -I will rehearse them to you, and also three others of 25 verses apiece -which I have wrote since on the same subject.” - -I see a cold sweat begin to break on his white and almost marble forward, -and with a agitated move he ketched out his watch and says he, - -“I have a engagement.” - -Says Betsey, beseechin’ly layin’ her hand on his coat sleeve, “I can -rehearse them in 26 or 27 minutes, and oh how sweet your sympathy would -be to me, let me repeat them to you deah man.” - -A haggard look crept into his handsome eyes, and says he, wildly turnin’ -’em away, “It is a case of life and death,” and he hurried to the door. - -But Betsey started up and got ahead of him, she got between him and the -door, and says she, “I will let you off about hearin’ the poetry--but oh! -listen to my otheh prayer.” - -“I _won’t_ listen to your prayer,” says he, firmly. - -“In the name of the female wimmen of America who worship you so, pause, -and heah my prayer.” - -He paused deeply agitated, and says he. “In their name I will hear you, -what is your request Betsey Bobbet?” - -She clasped her hands in a devotional way, and with as beseechin’ and -almost heart meltin’ a look as a dog will give to a bone held above its -head, she murmured, - -“A lock of youh haih deah man, that I may look at it when the world looks -hollow to me, a lock of youh haih to make my life path easier to me.” - -I turned my spectacles on which principle sot enthroned, towards ’em, and -listened in awful deep interest to see how it would end. Would he yield -or not? He almost trembled. But finally he spoke. - -“Never! Betsey Bobbet! never!” and he continued in low, agitated tones, -“I have got jest enough to look well now.” - -My heart throbbed proudly, to see him comin’ so nobly through the hot -furnace of temptation, without bein’ scorched. To see him bein’ lifted up -in the moral steelyards, and found full weight to a notch. But alas! Jest -as small foxes will gnaw into a grape vine, jest so will dangerous and -almost loose principles gnaw into a noble and upright nature unbeknown to -them. - -Agin Betsey says in harrowin’ tones, at the same time ketchin’ holt of -his coat skirts wildly, - -“If you can’t part with any more, give me one haih, to make my life path -smootheh.” - -[Illustration: BETSEY’S PRAYER.] - -Alas! that my spectacles was ever bought to witness the sad sight. For -with a despairin’, agonized countenance such as Lucifer, son of Mr. -Mornin’ might have wore as he fell doun, Theodore plucked a hair out of -his foretop, threw it at Betsey’s feet, and rushed out doors. Betsey with -a proud, haughty look, picked it up, kissed it a few times, and put it -into her port-money. - -But I sithed. - -I hadn’t no heart to say anything more to Victory. I bid her farewell. -But after we got out in the street, I kept a sithin’. - - - - -A WIMMEN’S RIGHTS’ LECTURER. - - -As we wended our way back to Miss Asters’es to dinner, Betsey said she -guessed after all she would go and take dinner to her cousin Ebeneezer’s, -for her Pa hadn’t give her much money. Says she, - -“I hate to awfully. It is revoltin’ to all the fineh feelings of my -nature to take dinneh theah, afteh I have been so--” she stopped -suddenly, and then went on agin. “But Pa didn’t make much this yeah, -and he didn’t give me much money, he nor Ma wouldn’t have thought they -could have paid my faih heah on the cars, if they hadn’t thought certain, -that Ebeneezah’s wife would be took from us, and I--should do my duty by -coming. So I guess I will go theah and get dinneh.” - -Thinks’es I to myself, “If your folks had brought you up to emanual -labor, if they had brought you up to any other trade only to get married, -you might have money enough of your own to buy one dinner independent, -without dependin’ on some man to earn it for you.” But I didn’t say -nothin’, but proceeded onwards to the tavern where I put up. When I got -there I met Johnothan Beans’es ex wife, and says she, - -“Oh, I forgot, there is a lady here that wanted to see you when you got -back.” - -“Who is it,” says I. - -“It is a female lecturer on wimmen’s rights,” says she. - -Well, says I, “Principle before vittles, is my theme, fetch her on.” - -Says she, “Go into your room and I’ll tell her you have come, and bring -her there. She is awful anxious to see you.” - -Well, says I, “I’m visible to the naked eye, she won’t have to take a -telescope,” and in this calm state of mind I went into my room and waited -for her. - -Pretty soon she came in. - -Jonothan Beans’es ex wife introduced us, and then went out. I rose up and -took holt of her hand, but I give it a sort of a catious shake, for I -didn’t like her looks. Of all the painted, and frizzled, and ruffled, and -humped up, and laced down critters I ever see, she was the cap sheaf. She -had a hump on her back bigger than any camel’s I ever see to a managery, -and no three wimmen ever grew the hair that critter had piled on to her -head. - -I see she was dissapointed in my looks. She looked dreadful kinder -scornful down onto my plain alpaca, which was made of a sensible length. -Hers hung down on the carpet. I’ll bet there was more’n a bushel basket -of puckers and ruffles that trailed down on to the floor behind her, -besides all there was on the skirt and waist. - -She never said a word about my dress, but I see she looked awful scornful -on to it. But she went on to talk about Wimmen’s Rights, and I see she -was one of the wild eyed ones, that don’t use no reason. I see here was -another chance for me to do good--to act up to principle. And as she give -another humiliatin’ look onto my dress, I become fully determined in my -own mind, that I wouldn’t shirk out from doin’ my duty by her, and tell -her jest what I thought of her looks. She said she had just returned from -a lecturin’ tower out in the Western States, and that she had addressed a -great many audiences, and had come pretty near gettin’ a Wimmen’s Rights -Governor chosen in one of the States. She got to kinder preachin’ after a -while, and stood lookin’ up towards the cealin’, and her hands stretched -out as if she was a lecturin’. Says she, - -“Tyrant man shan’t never rule us.” Says I, “I haint no objection to your -makin’ tyrant man better, if you can--there is a chance for improvement -in ’em--but while we are handlin’ ‘motes,’ sister, let us remember that -we have got considerable to do in the line of ‘beams.’” Says I, “To see a -lot of immortal wimmen together, sometimes, you would think the Lord had -forgot to put any brains into their heads, but had filled it all up with -dress patterns, and gossip, and beaux, and tattan.” - -[Illustration: ON A LECTURIN’ TOWER.] - -“Tyrant man has encouraged this weakness of intellect. He has for ages -made woman a plaything; a doll; a menial slave. He has encouraged her -weakness of comprehension, because it flattered his self love and vanity, -to be looked up to as a superior bein’. He has enjoyed her foolishness.” - -“No doubt there is some truth in what you say, sister, but them days are -past. A modest, intelligent woman is respected and admired now, more than -a fool. It is so in London and New York village, and,” says I with some -modesty, “it is so in Jonesville.” - -“Tyrant man,” begun the woman agin. “Tyrant man thinks that wimmen are -weak, slavish idiots, that don’t know enough to vote. But them tyrants -will find themselves mistaken.” - -The thought that Josiah was a man, came to me then as it never had -before. And as she looked down from the cealin’ a minute on to my dress -with that scornful mene, principle nerved me up to give her a piece of my -mind. - -Says I, “No wonder men don’t think that we know enough to vote when they -see the way some wimmen rig themselves out. Why says I, a bachelder that -had always kept house in a cave, that had read about both and hadn’t -never seen neither, would as soon take you for a dromedary as a woman.” - -She turned round quicker’n lightnin’, and as she did so, I see her hump -plainer’n ever. - -Says she, “Do you want to insult me?” - -“No,” says I, “my intentions are honorable, mom. - -“But,” says I, puttin’ the question plain to her, “would you vote for -a man, that had his pantaloons made with trails to ’em danglin’ on the -ground, and his vest drawed in to the bottom tight enough to cut him -into, and his coat tails humped out with a bustle, and somebody else’s -hair pinned on the back of his head? Would you?” says I solemnly fixin’ -my spectacles keenly onto her face. “Much as I respect and honor Horace -Greeley, if that pure-minded and noble man should rig himself out with -a bustle and trailin’ pantaloons, I wouldn’t vote for him, and Josiah -shouldn’t neither.” - -[Illustration: HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT?] - -But she went right on without mindin’ me--“Man has always tried to dwarf -our intellects; cramp our souls. The sore female heart pants for freedom. -It is sore! and it pants.” - -Her eyes was rolled up in her head, and she had lifted both hands in -a eloquent way, as she said this, and I had a fair view of her waist, -it wasn’t much bigger than a pipe’s tail. And I says to her in a low, -friendly tone. “Seein’ we are only females present, let me ask you in -a almost motherly way, when your heart felt sore and pantin’ did you -ever loosen your cosset strings? Why,” says I, “no wonder your heart -feels sore, no wonder it pants, the only wonder is, that it don’t get -discouraged and stop beatin’ at all.” - -She wanted to waive off the subject, I knew, for she rolled up her eyes -higher than ever, and agin she began “Tyrant man”-- - -Agin I thought of Josiah, and agin I interrupted her by sayin’ “Men haint -the worst critters in the world, they are as generous and charitable -agin, as wimmen are, as a general thing.” - -“Then what do you want wimmen to vote for, if you think so?” - -“Because I want justice done to every human bein’. Justice never hurt -nobody yet, and rights given through courtesy and kindness, haint so -good in the long run, as rights given by law. And besides, there are -exceptions to every rule. There are mean men in the world as well as -good ones. Justice to wimmen won’t prevent charitable men from bein’ -charitable, generous men from bein’ generous, and good men from bein’ -good, while it will restrain selfishness and tyrany. One class was never -at the mercy of another, in any respect, without that power bein’ abused -in some instances. Wimmen havin’ the right to vote haint a goin’ to turn -the world over to once, and make black, white, in a minute, not by no -means. But I sincerely believe it will bring a greater good to the female -race and to the world.” - -Says I, in my most eloquent way, “There is a star of hope a risin’ in -the East for wimmen. Let us foller on after it through the desert of the -present time, not with our dresses trailin’ down onto the sandy ground, -and our waists lookin’ like pismires, and our hair frizzled out like -maniacs. Let us go with our own hair on our heads, soberly, decently, and -in order; let us behave ourselves in such a sober, christian way, that we -can respect ourselves, and then men will respect us.” - -“I thought,” says she, “that you was a pure Wimmen’s Righter! I thought -you took part with us in our warfare with our foeman man! I thought you -was a firm friend to wimmen, but I find I am mistaken.” - -[Illustration: FEMALE STATESMANSHIP.] - -“I _am_ a friend to wimmen,” says I, “and because I am, I don’t want her -to make a natural born fool of herself. And I say agin, I don’t wonder -sometimes, that men don’t think that wimmen know enough to vote, when -they see ’em go on. If a woman don’t know enough to make a dress so she -can draw a long breath in it, how is she goin’ to take deep and broad -views of public affairs? If she puts 30 yards of calico into a dress, -besides the trimmin’s, how is she goin’ to preach acceptably on political -economy? If her face is covered with paint, and her curls and frizzles -all danglin’ down onto her eyes, how can she look straight and keenly -into foreign nations and see our relations there? If a woman don’t -know enough to keep her dress out of the mud, how is she goin’ to steer -the nation through the mud puddle of politics? If a woman humps herself -out, and makes a camel of herself, how is she goin’ through the eye of a -needle?” - -I said these last words in a real solemn camp meetin’ tone, but they -seemed to mad her, for she started right up and went out, and I didn’t -care a cent if she did, I had seen enough of her. She ketched her trail -in the door and tore off pretty nigh a yard of it, and I didn’t cry -about that, not a mite. I don’t like these bold brazen faced wimmen that -go a rantin’ round the country, rigged out in that way, jest to make -themselves notorious. Thier names hadn’t ought to be mentioned in the -same day, with true earnest wimmen who take thier reputations in thier -hands, and give thier lives to the cause of Right, goin’ ahead walkin’ -afoot through the wilderness, cuttin’ down trees, and diggin’ out stumps, -makin’ a path for the car of Freedom, that shall yet roll onward into -Liberty. - -As soon as she was gone, I went down and eat my dinner, for I was hungry -as a bear. At the dinner table Jonothan Beans’es ex wife asked me “what I -would like for desert.” - -I told her “I hadn’t turned my mind much that way, for I hadn’t no idee -of goin’ into the desert business, I wouldn’t buy one any way, and I -wouldn’t take one as a gift if I had got to settle down, and live on it. -But from what I had heard Thomas Jefferson read about it, I thought the -desert of Sarah was about as roomy and raised as much sand to the acre as -any of ’em.” - -Says she, turnin’ the subject, “will you have pie or puddin’.” - -I couldn’t see then, and I have thought about it lots sense, I don’t see -what started her off onto Gography all of a sudden. - -After dinner I thought I would rest a spell. My talk with that female -lecturer had tired me out. Principle is dreadful tuckerin’ to any body, -when you make it a stiddy business. I had rather wash, any time, than to -go off on a tower of it as I was. So I went to my room and sot down real -comfortable. But I hadn’t sot more’n a minute and a half, when Betsey -Bobbet came, and nothin’ to do, but I must go to Stewarts’es store with -her. I hung back at first, but then I happened to think, if Alexander -should hear--as of course he would--that I had been to the village and -hadn’t been to his shop, he would have reason to feel hurt. Alexander is -a real likely man, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelin’s, and it haint -my way to want to slight anybody. And then I had a little tradin’ I -wanted to do. So take it all together, I finally told Betsey I would go -with her. - - - - -ALEXANDER’S STORE. - - -I had heard it was considerable of a store, but good land! it was bigger -than all the shops of Jonesville put together, and 2 or 3 10 acre lots, -and a few meetin’ housen. But I wouldn’t have acted skairt, if it had -been as big as all Africa. I walked in as cool as a cowcumber. We sot -down pretty nigh to the door and looked round a spell. Of all the sights -of folks there was a comin’ in all the time, and shinin’ counters all -down as fur as we could see, and slick lookin’ fellers behind every one, -and lots of boys runnin’ round, that they called “Cash.” I says to Betsey, - -“What a large family of boys Mr. Cash’es folks have got, and they must -some of ’em be twins, they seem to be about of a size.” - -I was jest thinkin’ in a pityin way of their mother: poor Mrs. Cash, and -how many pantaloons she would have to put new seats into, in slidin’ down -hill time, when Betsey says to me, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife, hadn’t you better be purchasing your merchandise?” -Says she, “I will set here and rest ’till you get through, and as deah -Tuppah remarked, ‘study human nature.’” She didn’t have no book as I -could see to study out of, but I didn’t make no remarks, Betsey is a -curious critter, anyway. I went up to the first counter--there was a -real slick lookin’ feller there, and I asked him in a cool tone, “If Mr. -Stewart took eggs, and what they was a fetchin’ now?” - -He said “Mr. Stewart don’t take eggs.” - -“Well,” says I, “what does he give now for butter in the pail?” - -He said “Mr. Stewart don’t take butter.” - -“Well,” says I, in a dignified way, “It haint no matter, I only asked to -see what they was a fetchin’ here. I haint got any with me, for I come on -a tower.” I then took a little roll out of my pocket, and undone ’em. It -was a pair of socks and a pair of striped mittens. And I says to him in a -cool, calm way, - -“How much is Mr. Stewart a payin’ for socks and mittens now. I know they -are kinder out of season now, but there haint no danger but what Winter -will come, if you only wait long enough.” - -He said “we don’t take em.” - -I felt dissapointed, for I did want Alexander to have ’em, they was knit -so good. I was jest thinkin’ this over, when he spoke up agin, and says -he, “we don’t take barter of no kind.” I didn’t know really what he -meant, but I answered him in a blind way, that it was jest as well as -if they did, as fur as I was concerned, for we hadn’t raised any barter -that year, it didn’t seem to be a good year for it, and then I continued -on--“Mebby Mr. Stewart would take these socks and mittens for his own -use.” Says I, “do you know whether Alexander is well off for socks and -mittens or not?” - -[Illustration: DON’T TAKE BARTER.] - -The clerk said “he guessed Mr. Stewart wasn’t sufferin’ for ’em.” - -“Well,” says I in a dignified way, “you can do as you are a mind to about -takin’ ’em, but they are colored in a good indigo blue dye, they haint -pusley color, and they are knit on honor, jest as I knit Josiah’s.” - -“Who is Josiah?” says the clerk. - -Says I, a sort of blindly, “He is the husband of Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -I would’t say right out, that I was Josiah Allen’s wife, because I wanted -them socks and mittens to stand on their own merits, or not at all. I -wasn’t goin’ to have ’em go, jest because one of the first wimmen of -the day knit ’em. Neither was I goin’ to hang on, and tease him to take -’em. I never said another word about his buyin’ ’em, only mentioned in a -careless way, that “the heels was run.” But he didn’t seem to want ’em, -and I jest folded ’em up, and in a cool way put ’em into my pocket. I -then asked to look at his calicos, for I was pretty near decided in my -own mind to get a apron, for I wasn’t goin’ to have him think that all my -property lay in that pair of socks and mittens. - -He told me where to go to see the calicos, and there was another clerk -behind that counter. I didn’t like his looks a bit, he was real uppish -lookin’. But I wasn’t goin’ to let him mistrust that I was put to my -stumps a bit. I walked up as collected lookin’ as if I owned the whole -caboodle of ’em, and New York village, and Jonesville, and says I, - -“I want to look at your calicos.” - -“What prints will you look at?” says he, meanin’ to put on me. - -Says I, “I don’t want to look at no Prince,” says I, “I had ruther see -a free born American citizen, than all the foreign Princes you can bring -out.” Says I, “Americans make perfect fools of themselves in my mind, a -runnin’ after a parcel of boys, whose only merit is, they happened to be -born before thier brothers and sisters was.” Says I, “If a baby is born -in a meetin’ house, it don’t make out that he is born a preacher. A good -smart American boy like Thomas Jefferson, looks as good to me as any of -your Princes.” I said this in a noble, lofty tone, but after a minute’s -thought I went on, - -“Though, if you have got a quantity of Princes here, I had as lives -see one of Victory’s boys, as any of ’em. The widder Albert is a good -housekeeper, and a first-rate calculator, and a woman that has got a -Right. I set a good deal of store by the widder Albert, I always thought -I should like to get acquainted with her, and visit back and forth, and -neighbor with her.” - -I waited a minute, but he didn’t make no move towards showin’ me any -Prince. But, says he, - -“What kind of calico do you want to look at?” - -I thought he come off awful sudden from Princes to calico, but I didn’t -say nothin’. But I told him “I would like to look at a chocklate colored -ground work, with a set flower on it.” - -“Shan’t I show you a Dolly Varden,” says he. - -I see plainly that he was a tryin’ to impose on me, talkin’ about -Princes and Dolly Varden, and says I with dignity, - -“If I want to make Miss Varden’s acquaintance, I can, without askin’ you -to introduce me. But,” I continued coldly, “I don’t care about gettin’ -acquainted with Miss Varden, I have heard her name talked over too much -in the street. I am afraid she haint a likely girl. I am afraid she haint -such a girl as I should want my Tirzah Ann to associate with. Ever sense -I started from Jonesville I have heard that girl talked about. ‘There is -Dolly Varden!’ and ‘Oh look at Dolly Varden!’ I have heard it I bet more’n -a hundred times sense I sot out. And it seems to me that no modest girl -would be traipsin’ all over the country alone, for I never have heard a -word about old Mr. and Miss Varden, or any of the Varden boys. Not that -it is anything out of charicter to go off on a tower. I am off on a tower -myself,” says I, with quite a good deal of dignity, “but it don’t look -well for a young girl like her, to be streamin’ round alone. I wish I -could see old Mr. and Miss Varden, I would advise the old man and woman -to keep Dolly at home, if they have any regard for her good name. Though -I’m afraid,” I repeated, lookin’ at him keenly over my specs, “I’m afraid -it is too late for me to interfere, I am afraid she haint a likely girl.” - -His face was jest as red as blood. But he tried to turn it off with a -laugh. And he said somethin’ about her “bein’ the style,” and “bein’ -gay,” or somethin’. But I jest stopped him pretty quick. Says I, givin’ -him a awful searchin’ look, - -“I think jest as much of Dolly as I do of her most intimate friends, male -or female.” - -[Illustration: DOLLY VARDEN.] - -He pretended to turn it off with a laugh. But I know a guilty conscience -when I see it as quick as anybody. I haint one to break a bruised reed -more than once into. And my spectacles beamed more mildly onto him, and I -says to him in a kind but firm manner. - -“Young man, if I was in your place, I would drop Dolly Varden’s -acquaintance.” Says I, “I advise you for your own good, jest as I would -Thomas Jefferson.” - -“Who is Thomas Jefferson?” says he. - -Says I, in a cautious tone, “He is Josiah Allen’s child, by his first -wife, and the own brother of Tirzah Ann.” - -I then laid my hand on a piece of choklate ground calico, and says I, -“This suits me pretty well, but I have my doubts,” says I, examinin’ it -closer through my specs, “I mistrust it will fade some. What is _your_ -opinion?” says I, speakin’ to a elegantly dressed woman by my side, who -stood there with her rich silk dress a trailin’ down on the floor. - -“Do you suppose this calico will wash mom?” - -I was so busy a rubbin’ the calico to see if it was firm cloth, that I -never looked up in her face at all. But when I asked her for the third -time, and she didn’t speak, I looked up in her face, and I haint come so -near faintin’ sence I was united to Josiah Allen. _That woman’s head was -off!_ - -The clerk see that I was overcome by somethin’, and says he, “what is the -matter?” - -I couldn’t speak, but I pinted with my forefinger stiddy at that murdered -woman. I guess I had pinted at her pretty nigh half a minute, when I -found breath and says I, slowly turnin’ that extended finger at him, in -so burnin’ indignant a way, that if it had been a spear, he would have -hung dead on it. - -“That is pretty doin’s in a Christian country!” - -His face turned red as blood agin--and looked all swelled up, he was so -mortified. And he murmured somethin’ about her “bein’ dumb,” or a “dummy” -or somethin’--but I interrupted him--and says I, - -“I guess you would be dumb yourself if your head was cut off.” Says I, in -awful sarcastic tones, - -“It would be pretty apt to make any body dumb.” - -Then he explaned it to me. That it was a wooden figger, to hang thier -dresses and mantillys on. And I cooled down and told him I would take a -yard and 3 quarters of the calico, enough for a honorable apron. - -Says he, “We don’t sell by retail in this room.” - -I give that clerk then a piece of my mind. I asked him how many aprons he -supposed Tirzah Ann and I stood in need of? I asked him if he supposed we -was entirely destitute of aprons? And I asked him in a awful sarcastic -tone if he had a idee that Josiah and Thomas Jefferson wore aprons? Says -I, “any body would think you did.” Says I, turnin’ away awful dignified, -“when I come agin I will come when Alexander is in the store himself.” - -I joined Betsey by the door, and says I, “Less go on to once.” - -“But,” says she, to me in a low mysterious voice; “Josiah Allen’s wife, do -you suppose they would want to let me have a straw colored silk dress, -and take thier pay in poetry?” - -Says I, “for the land’s sake Betsey, don’t try to sell any poetry here. I -am wore out. If they won’t take any sacks and mittens, or good butter and -eggs, I know they won’t take poetry.” - -She argued a spell with me, but I stood firm, for I wouldn’t let her -demean herself for nothin’. And finally I got her to go on. - - - - -A HARROWIN’ OPERATION. - - -All I could do and say, Betsey would keep a goin’ into one store after -another, and I jest trailed round with her ’till it was pitch dark. -Finally after arguin’ I got her headed towards her cousin’s. - -It was as late as half past eight when I got back to Miss Asters’es. As -I went by the parlor door, I heard a screechin’ melankoly hollerin’. -Thinks’es I to myself, “somebody’s hurt in there, some female I should -think, by the voice.” I thought at first I wouldn’t interfere, as there -was enough to take her part, for the room seemed to be chuck full. So I -was goin’ on up to my room, when it come to my ears agin, louder and more -agonizin’ than ever. I couldn’t stand it. As a female who was devoted to -the cause of Right, I felt that in the behalf of my sect I would see what -could be done. I kinder squeezed my way in, up towards the sound, and -pretty soon I got where I could see her. Then I knew she was crazy. - -She looked bad. Her dress seemed to be nice silk, but it jest hung on -to her shoulders, and she had strung a lot of beads and things round her -neck--you know how such poor critters will rig themselves out--and she -had tore at her hair so she had got it all streamin, down her neck. Her -face was deathly white, only in the middle of her cheeks there was a -feverish spot of fire red. Her eyes was rolled up in her head. She looked -real bad. - -[Illustration: A HARROWIN’ SCENE.] - -She had got to the piano in some way, and there she set a poundin’ it, -and yellin’. Oh how harrowin’ it was to the nerves, it made my heart -almost ache to see her. There was a good many nicely dressed wimmen -and men in the room and some of ’em was leanin’ over the poor girl’s -shoulders, a lookin’ at her hands go, and some of them wimmen’s dresses -was hangin’ down off their shoulders, so that I thought they must have -been kinder strugglin’ with the maniac and got ’em all pulled down and -torn open, and they looked most as crazy as she did. - -The poor girl didn’t know a word she was sayin’ but she kep’ a mutterin’ -over somethin’ to herself in a unknown tongue. There wasn’t no words to -it. But poor thing, she didn’t sense it. Some of the time she would be a -smilin’ to herself, and go on a mutterin’ kinder low, and then her worse -fits seemed to come on in spasms, and she would go to poundin’ the piano -and yellin’. And I see by the way her hands went that she had got another -infirmity too. I see she had got Mr. Vitus’es dance. It was a sad sight -indeed. - -As I see the poor thing set there with her dress most off of her, jest a -hangin’ on her shoulders, right there before so many men, I thought to -myself, what if was my Tirzah Ann there in that condition. But one thing -I know as long as Josiah Allen’s wife lived, she wouldn’t go a wanderin’ -round half naked, to be a laughin’ stock to the community. I took it so -right to myself, I kep’ a thinkin’ so, what if it was our Tirzah Ann, that -there wasn’t hardly a dry eye in my head. And I turned to a bystanter, -standin’ by my side, and says I to him in a voice almost choked down -with emotion, - -“Has the poor thing been so long? Can’t she get any help?” - -Jest that minute she begun to screech and pound louder and more harrowin’ -than ever, and I says in still more sorrowful accents, with my spectacles -bent pityin’ly on her, - -“It seems to come on by spasms, don’t it?” - -She kinder held up in her screechin’ then, and went at her mutterin’ agin -in that unknown tongue, and he heard me, and says he, - -“Beautiful! hain’t it?” - -That madded me. I give that man a piece of my mind. I told him plainly -that it “was bad enough to have such infirmities without bein’ made a -public circus of. And I didn’t have no opinion of anybody that enjoyed -such a scene and made fun of such poor critters.” - -He looked real pert, and said somethin’ about my “not havin’ a ear for -music.” - -That madded me agin. And says I, “Young man, tell me that I hain’t got -any ears agin if you dare!” and I ontied my bonnet strings, and lifted -up the corner of my head dress. Says I, “What do you call that? If that -hain’t a ear, what is it? And as for music, I guess I know what music is, -as well as anybody in this village.” Says I, “you ought to hear Tirzah -Ann sing jest between daylight and dark, if you want to hear music.” Says -I, “her organ is a good soundin’ one everybody says. It ought to be, for -we turned off a good two year old colt, and one of our best cows for it. -And when she pulls out the tremblin’ stopple in front of it, and plays -psalm tunes Sunday nights jest before sundown, with the shadders of the -mornin’ glory vines a tremblin’ all over her, as she sings old Corinth, -and Hebron, I have seen Josiah look at her and listen to her till he had -to pull out his red bandanna handkerchief and wipe his eyes.” - -“Who is Josiah?” says he. - -Says I, “It is Tirzah Ann’s father.” And I continued goin’ on with my -subject. “No medder lark ever had a sweeter voice than our Tirzah Ann. -And when she sings about the ‘Sweet fields that stand dressed in livin’ -green,’ she sings it in such a way, that you almost feel as if you had -waded through the ‘swellin flood,’ and was standin’ in them heavenly -medders. Tell me I never heard music! Ask Whitfield Minkley whether -Tirzah Ann can sing Anna Lowery or not, on week day evenin’s, and old -Mr. Robin Grey. Ask Whitfield Minkley, if you don’t believe me. He is a -minister’s only son, and he hadn’t ought to lie.” - -The little conceited feller’s face looked as red as a beet. He was a -poor lookin’ excuse any way, a uppish, dandyfied lookin’ chap, with -his moustache turned up at the corners, and twisted out like a waxed -end. He pretended to laugh, but he showed signs of mortification, as -plain as I ever see it. And he put up his specs, and I’ll be hanged if -he hadn’t broke one eye off’en ’em, and looked at me through it. But I -wasn’t dawnted by him, not a bit. I didn’t care how close he looked at -me. Josiah Allen’s wife hain’t afraid to be examined through a double -barreled telescope. - -Just then a good lookin’ man with long sensible whiskers and moustache, -hangin’ the way the Lord meant ’em to, and who had come up while I was a -speakin’ this last--spoke to me and says he, - -“I am like you madam, I like ballads better than I do opera music for the -parlor.” - -I didn’t really know what he meant, but he looked good and sensible -lookin’ and so says I in a blind way, - -“Yes like as not.” - -Says he, “I am very partial to those old songs you have mentioned.” - -Says I “They can’t be bettered.” - -Before I could say another word, that poor crazy thing begun agin, to -yell, and pound and screech, and I says to him, - -“Poor thing! couldn’t there be somethin’ done for her? If her mind can’t -be restored, can’t she get help for Mr. Vitus’es dance?” - -And then he explained it to me, he said she wasn’t crazy, and didn’t have -Mr. Vitus’es dance. He said she was a very fashionable young lady and it -was a opera she was singin’. - -“A operation,” says I sithin’ “I should think as much! I should think it -was a operation! It is a operation I don’t want to see or hear agin.” -And says I anxiously, “Is it as hard on everybody as it is on her? Does -everybody have the operation as hard as she has got it?” - -He kinder smiled, and turned it off by sayin’ “It is the opera of _Fra -Diovole_.” - -“Brother Devel,” says the conceited little chap with the waxed end -moustache. - -“‘The Operation of the----’” on account of my connection with the M. E. -church, says I, “I will call it David.” But they both knew what I meant. -“The operation of the--the David. I should think as much.” - -And I don’t know as I was ever more thankful than I was when I reflected -how my pious M. E. parents had taught me how to shun that place of awful -torment where the----David makes it his home. For a minute these feelin’s -of thankfulness swallered these other emotions almost down. But then as I -took another thought, it madded me to think that likely folks should be -tormented by it on earth. And I says to the little feller with the waxed -end moustache, - -“If that operation is one of the torments that the----the David keeps to -torment the wicked with, it is a burnin’ shame that it should be used -beforehand, here on earth, to torment other Christian folks with.” - -I didn’t wait for him to answer, but I turned round with a real lot of -dignity, and sailed out of the room. It was with a contented and happy -feelin’ the next mornin’ that I collected together my cap box, and -spectacle case, packed my satchel bag with my barred muslin night cap and -night gown, and put my umberella into its gingham sheath (for it was a -pleasant mornin’) and set, as you may say, my face homewards. I thought I -would proceed right from Horace’s to the depott, and not come back agin -to Miss Aster’ses. I paid my bill with a calm demeaner, though it galled -me to see ’em ask such a price. - -Jonothan Beans’es ex wife seemed to hate to have me go, she is one that -don’t forget the days when she first went to grass. I told her to tell -Miss Aster just how it was, that I felt as if I must go, for Josiah would -be expectin’ me. But I would love to stay and get acquainted with her. -But she had so much on her hands, such a gang to cook for, that I knew -she didn’t have no time to visit with nobody. And I told her to be sure -and tell Miss Aster, that she mustn’t feel particuler at all because we -hadn’t visited together--but she must pay me a visit jest the same. Then -I sent my best respects to Mr. Aster and the boys, and then I set out. -Jest by the front door I met Betsey, and we both set sail for Horace’s. - - - - -A VISIT TO HORACE. - - -It was with a beatin’ heart that I stood at the door of the shop where -Horace’es papers are made. And though he haint printed ’em alone since he -was run up, as he did more formally, they told me I would be apt to find -him at his old office. - -I was jest a goin’ to knock when a boy came out, and says I, - -“Bub, I want to see Horace.” - -“Horace who?” says he. - -“Horace Greeley,” says I. - -“Wall,” says he, “I will take up your card.” - -I see then that he was a tryin’ to empose upon me. I haint naturally -warlike, but I can stand up on my dignity, straight as a cob when I set -out. Says I, - -“I’ll have you know that I am a member of the Methodist meetin’ house.” -Says I, warmly, “I don’t know one card from another, and I’m glad I -don’t.” Says I, “I presume there are wimmin here in the village, as old -as I be, that set up to play cards till 9 or 10 o’clock at night. But -thank fortin’ I haint one of ’em.” Says I, “Young man, I detest card -playin’, it ends in gamblin’. Now,” says I firmly, “you jest tell me where -Horace is, or I’ll know the reason why!” - -He see I wasn’t to be trifled with, any more. He muttered somethin’ about -_his_ not bearin’ the blame. But he went up stairs, and we followed tight -to his heels, and the minute he opened the door we went in. Horace hadn’t -dressed up much, for I spose he didn’t expect us. But if he had been -dressed up in pink silk throughout, it wouldn’t have made no difference -to my feelin’s as I ketched sight of that noble and benign face, that -peaceful innocent mouth, that high forward, with the hair a curlin’ round -the sides of it, like thin white clouds curlin’ round the side of a -mountain in Ingun summer. - -I use that figger of speech, because his face looked on the mountain -plan, firm, and grand and decided. And I put in the Ingun summer, because -you know jest how a mountain will look standin’ a considerable ways above -you on the first of October--kind o’ mellow and peaceful and benign. But -you realize all the time, that under all the green and shady growth of -its mosses and evergreens, it has been growin’ gradual but stiddy through -the centuries. Under all that viel of shinin’ blue gawze, wove out of -mist one way, with a warp of sunshine, under all the mellow colerin’ the -time of the year has give it, there is a good strong back bone of solid -rock in the old mountain, that couldn’t be broke by all the hammers in -creation. - -That was jest my idee of his face, a mountain in Indgun summer, facin’ -the sunrise. Standin’ up so high that it ketches a light on its forward -before the world below gets lit up. Firm, solid principles with the edge -took off of ’em, and kinder topped off with the experiences, and gradual -convictions and discoveries of a noble life. And all softened down by the -calmness and quiet of the time of day, and the fall of the year. That was -the way Horace Greeley’s face looked to me as I got a full view of it as -he set to his desk a writin’. - -In the dead of night on my own peaceful goose feather bed at home, I had -made a speech all up in my mind for that glorious occasion, when 2 firm -and true principled minds should meet--which was Horace’s mind and mine. -For though we conflict in some things, the good of the Human Race is as -dear as our apples is, in our eyes. But at the first sight of that noble -face, my emotions got up and overpowered me so, that I forgot every word -of my speech, and all I could say was, in thick tones of feelin’ and -principle, - -“Horace, I have come.” - -His face grew almost black with fear and anger. He sprang up, and waved -me back with his right hand and shouted to me, - -“It is in vain madam! you are the 94th woman who has been here to-day -after office. Female lobsteress depart! Get thee behind me Sa--female!” - -Says I with deep emotion, “Horace you don’t know me! I am not a female -lobsteress! I am Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -He came forward and shook hands with me, and says he, “I know you will -excuse my vehemence, when I tell you, I am almost devoured by office -seekers!” He cleared a path through the papers on the floor to some -chairs, but as we set down, he continued in tremblin’ tones, for it -seemed as if he couldn’t forget his troubles, - -“Foxes and woodchucks have holes, but a candidate for the Presidency -can’t find none small enough to hide in. I _did_,” says he sithin deeply, -“I _did_ have a few peaceful, happy hours in the suller of my dwellin’ -house;” he paused, overcome by sad recolections, and says I, deeply -sympathizin’ and interested, - -“What broke it up Horace?” - -“They found the out door suller way; so,” says he sithin agin, “I lost -that peaceful haven.” - -“Wall,” says I, tryin’ to soothe his agitation, - -“You’re one in a high, noble place, Horace.” - -[Illustration: INTERVIEW WITH HORACE] - -“Yes!” says he, “but it places anybody under a very strong light--a very -strong light. I have never done anything out of the way sense I was first -born, but what I have seen it in the papers. I tore my pantaloons once,” -says he, gloomily, “in gettin’ over the fence at the early age of 2 and -a half, and I bit my mother once at the age of 7 months a nursin’, I -could wish these two errors of my past to be forgotten by the world and -overlooked, but in vain. I am taunted with ’em on every side. I never -threw a boot jack at a tom cat in the dead of the night, but what my -picture has been took in the act, I never swore a oath to myself in the -depths of my own stomach, but what I have seen that unspoken oath in the -papers. I never jawed Mrs. Greeley about my shirt buttons,” he continued, -sadly, “in the depths of our secluded chamber, but what it has been -illustrated with notes.” - -As he spoke of jawin’ about shirt buttons, I says to myself, “How much! -how much human nature is alike in all men,” and I says aloud, - -“How much you remind me of Josiah.” - -“Of Josiah!” says he, and that name seemed to make him remember himself, -and to come nobly out of his gloomy reflections. “Josiah, he is your -husband! Oh yes, Josiah Allen’s wife! I am glad to meet you, for although -I couldn’t comply with the request your letter contained, yet it -convinced me that you are a sincere friend to the human race.” - -“Yes,” says I, “Horace, I am, and I want you to consider my request over -agin.” - -But he interrupted me hurriedly, seemin’ to want to turn my mind from -that subject. - -“What do you think of Fourier’s system, Josiah Allen’s wife?” says he, -lookin’ at me languidly over his specks. - -Says I, “I never see Mr. Fourier. How can I tell you any thing about -the old man’s health, whether his system is all right, or whether he is -enjoyin’ poor health. Horace, I come to talk with you on more important -things.” - -But he continued placidly, hopin’ to draw my mind off, - -“What do you think of Darwin’s idees?” - -“Darwin who?” says I. “Darwin Gowdey? I don’t know any other Darwin, and -I never mistrusted that he had any idees, he is most a natural fool.” - -Says he, “about our descendin’ from a monkey?” - -Says I, with dignity, “I don’t know how it is with you, but I know that -I couldn’t descend from a monkey, never bein’ on one’s back in my whole -life.” Says I, “I never looked well in the saddle any way bein’ so hefty. -But,” says I, in a liberal way, “if you, or anybody else wants to ride -monkeys, you have the privilege, but I never had no leanin’ that way.” -And agin, says I, in agitated tones, “you needn’t try to take my mind -oft’en the deep and momentous subject on which it is sot, by talkin’ -about ridin’ monkeys. Horace I have come clear down here to the village -on purpose to ask you to examine your platform, and see if there hain’t -no loose boards in it where some of the citizens of the United States, -such as wimmen can fall through. Platforms, that are built over the deep -waters, ought to be sound, and every board ought to be nailed down tight, -so that nobody--not even the smallest and weakest--can fall through and -get drownded.” Says I, “Your door step is most all good solid timber, but -I feel there is one old, mouldy, worm eaten board that is loose in it.” -And with emotion renderin’ my voice weak as a cat, says I, “Horace, I -want you to examine your door step and lay down a new board, and I will -help you do it. I come a purpose to.” - -He see it was vain to turn the current of my thoughts round, and says he -in a decided way, - -“You must have become aware of my views from the contents of my letter. -You got my letter?” says he in a enquirin’ tone. - -“Yes,” says I, “we have framed it and got a glass over it, jest because -it was your writin’, but there seemed to be a mistake in it; it seemed to -be wrote to Josiah.” - -Says he, “What did you make it out to be?” - -Says I, “it seemed to run as follers--‘I don’t want to purchase any more -shoats.’ - -“Josiah did have a uncommon kind of pigs, and we thought mebby you had -heard that Josiah wanted to sell you one, though it was a mistake, for -he swapped a couple with Deacon Gowdey for a yearlin’ heifer, and he -didn’t have no more left than he wanted to keep over.” - -He said we didn’t read it right. It read, ‘I don’t approve of any -wimmen’s votes.’ And says he, leanin’ back in his chair, “That is the -ground I take, I don’t believe in Wimmen’s Rights. I don’t see what -rights they want--more’n they have now.” - -Then I dove right into the subject that was the nearest to my heart (with -the exception of Josiah) and says I, “Horace, we want the right of equal -pay for equal laber. The right of not bein’ taxed without representation. -The right of not bein’ compelled, if she is a rich woman, of lettin’ her -property go to support public men, who are makin’ laws that are ruinin’ -them she loves best, such as givin’ licences to ruin body and soul. The -right to stand by the side of all good and true soles in the nation, and -tryin’ to stop this evil spirit of intemperance and licentiousness that -is runnin’ rampant through the land. The right to--” - -I don’t know how much longer I should have gone on, but in the noble -forgetfulness of yourself that always accompanies genius, I had riz -up, and by an unguarded wave of my right hand a wavin’ in eloquence I -tipped over my umberell. Horace picked it up (he is a perfect gentleman -at heart) and says he, “Set down Josiah Allen’s wife, don’t fatigue -yourself too much.” - -Rememberin’ myself, I sot down, and Horace, pensively wipin’ his brow -with his lead pencil, went on to say, - -“I admit there is some truth in what you say, Josiah Allen’s wife. I -admit, as a truthful man should, that whatever wimmen has laid thier -hands to, such as churches, hospital work, foreign missionary work, -ragged schools, Sunday schools, charity balls and fairs, and Good -Templars, they have done more than men in thier efforts and good -influence. They are more patient than men; they are not so strong, but -they are more persistent. When they once get a plan in thier heads, they -are awful to hold on--if they can’t accomplish it in one way, they will -take another.” - -Says I, “that is jest what Josiah says. He says, ‘I always have my own -way.’” - -“I admit, that whenever wimmen have been admitted in any public affairs, -they have had a puryfyin’, and softnin’ and enoblin’ influence. But I -deny that votin’ and havin’ a voice in public affairs is goin’ to better -the condition of either wimmen or the nation.” - -Says I, “Horace, the old White House needs puryfyin’ more than any -horsepittle or meetin’ house in creation.” And says I, “Let wimmen lay -to, and help clean house.” Says I, “let her try her hand for one year, -and see what she can do.” - -Says Horace, goin’ on placidly with his own thoughts, “It is not the -change that would be wrought in public affairs I dread, so much as the -change in the wimmen themselves, if they should mingle in the wild vortex -of political life. I have two daughters, and rather than have them lose -all thier delicacy, and enter political life and mount the rostrum, I -would lay them in thier grave. I don’t believe,” says he, with great -decision, “I don’t believe in wimmen leadin’ off into politics, and -mountin’ the rostrum.” - -I interupted him with a earnest tone; “you needn’t twit me of that, no -more Horace. I don’t want to mount no rostrum. I had ruther give Josiah -20 curtain lectures than to give half of one to the public, there would -be more solid satisfaction in it. But as far as indelicacy is concerned, -it is no more immodest for a woman to lead off in politics than to lead -off one of your indecent German waltzes with a man.” Says I, “you men -think it hain’t indelicate for wimmen to go with you to balls, and to -theatres, and into the wild vortex of the ocean a bathin’ with you--and -to post offices, and to fires, and fairs, and horse races, and to church, -and to heaven with you. But it is awful to go and drop a little slip of -white paper into a box, once a year with you.” - -Says Horace wavin’ off that idee, “Woman holds in her arms a more -powerful ballot than she can in her hands. Let her mould her baby boy, so -that in the future his mother will vote through him.” - -Horace looked noble as he said this. His silver mounted spectacles shone -with pure feelin’ and principle. “But,” says I, in a reasonable tone, - -“How can wimmen mould children, if she haint got any to mould? I haint -got any of my own, and lots of wimmen haint.” Says I, “such talk is -unreasonable, how can she go to mouldin’, when she haint got the -materials?” - -“Let them influence thier husbands then,” says he, “the influence of -wimmen over men, is wonderful, and they can in this way wield a almost -sovereign power. And they do in many instances exert this indirect power -in an eminent degree.” - -Says I, finally, “I don’t believe in no underhand proceedin’, I never -did. The idee of wimmen bein’ underhand, and go to mouldin’ men on the -sly, I don’t believe in it.” Says I, “accordin’ to your own story Horace, -wimmen have a influence in politics now.” - -“Wall--yes--a sort of a indirect influence in thier families, as it were.” - -Says I, “Horace can you look me straight in the spectacles and deny that -there is wimmen’s influence in politics at Washington to-day?” Says -I, “look at them female lobsteresses there.” Says I, “one handsome, -brilliant, unprincipled bad woman will influence 14 common men where a -modest humbly well wisher of her sect will one.” And says I, warmly, for -the thought of these female lobsteresses always madded me--“I should be -ashamed if I was in some of them Senators’ places, makin’ laws about the -Mormans.” - -I see my deep principle was a floatin’ me off into a subject where as a -female I didn’t want to go, and so I choked back the words I was about to -utter which was, “I had jest as lives jine a Morman, as to jine one of -them.” I choked it back, and struggled for calmness, for I was excited. -But I did say this, - -“I think good wimmen ought to have a chance with bad ones in political -affairs. For there is more good wimmen in the land than there is bad -ones, but now the bad ones have it all thier own way.” - -Horace wiped his brow gently with his lead pencil, and said in a -thoughtful accent, - -“There may be some truth in what you say Josiah Allen’s wife. I confess I -never looked at it in exactly this light before.” - -Says I, in a triumphant glad tone, “That is jest what I told Josiah.” -Says I, “Josiah, Horace is all right, there never was a better meanin’ -man on the face of the earth than Horace is. All he wants is to have some -noble principled woman to set him right in this one thing.” - -I see in a minute that I had made a mistake. Men hate to be dictated -to by a woman, they hate to, like a dog. I see by his lowery brow that -I had put the wrong foot forrerd. For the time bein’ the sage and the -philosifer sunk down in his nature, and the _man_ spoke in the usual -manlike way. - -“I say wimmen’s brains are too weak to grasp public matters. They have -remarkable intuitions I grant. A woman’s insight or instinct or whatever -you may term it, will, I grant, fly over a mountain and discover what is -on the other side of it, while a man is gettin’ his gunpowder ready to -make a tunnel through it. But they are not logical, they have not the -firm grasp of mind, the clear comprehension requisite to a voter.” - -Says I, “Horace, which has the firmest grasp--the clearest comprehension, -a earnest intellegent christian woman, or a drunken Irishman?” Says I, -“Understand me Horace, I don’t ask which would sell thier votes at the -best lay, or vote the most times in one day--I dare say the man would -get ahead of the woman in these respects, bein’ naturally more of a -speculator--and also bein’ in practice. You know practice makes perfect. -I don’t ask you this. But I ask you and I want you to answer me Horace, -which would be in the best condition for votin’, Elizabeth Cady Stanton -gettin’ up off of her religious knees in the mornin’ after family -prayers, and walkin’--with the Constitution in one hand and the Bible in -the other--coolly and sensibly to the pole, or Patrick oh Flanegan comin’ -out of a drunken wake, and staggerin’ up against the pole with a whisky -bottle in one hand and a club in the other, when he didn’t know nothin’ -in the first place, and then had lost half or 3 quarters of that, in the -liquer some clear minded, logical man give him, for votin’ a few dozen -times for him?” - -At this question Horace quailed a very little. But it was not the quail -of a weak man, there was principle in that quail, and a determination to -argue to the end, which is one of the charicterestics of that great and -good man. She that was Samantha Smith also possesses some of this spirit. - -“Set down, Josiah Allen’s wife and don’t fatigue yourself too much,” says -Horace, for almost carried away by my emotions, I had riz’ up and stood -on my feet agin. - -And he went on, “You put the case in a very strong light Josiah Allen’s -wife. That is one of the peculiar weaknesses of your sect. You don’t -possess sufficient moderation. You exaggerate too much.” - -Says I, “publishin’ a daily paper for 20 years, has a tendency to make -any man a good judge of exaggeration, and if you see by my symptoms that -I have got it, I haint a goin’ to deny it. But you haint answered my -question yet Horace.” - -Says he “Josiah Allen’s wife, my mind is firmly made up on this subject. -And nothin’ upon earth will ever change it. I am fully convinced that -woman’s enterin’ into public duties would result in makin’ her coarse and -unfeminine, and make her lose her love for home and husband. And then, -suppose she were eligible for public offices; imagine a lady blacksmith! -a lady constable! a lady president! it is absurd, Josiah Allen’s wife.” - -Says I, “Horace, you are too smart a man to bring up such poor -arguments. You don’t see a little sickly, literary, consumptive, -broken backed blacksmith or constable. Men choose the occupations most -congenial, and suitable for them, and wimmen would do the same, anyway. -Rosa Bonheur chooses to live out doors half the time among cattle and -horses, and I presume she haint half so afraid of ’em as Mr. A. Tennyson -would be. I have heerd Thomas Jefferson read about ’em both. I don’t -suppose any woman would be compelled to be made a constable of, though if -they was, I presume men would submit to be incarcerated by ’em as quick -as they would by a male man. - -“As for the idee of a lady president, I don’t know as it would be any -more absurd than a lady queen. Victory sets up pretty easy in her high -chair, there don’t seem to be anything very absurd about the Widder -Albert. You say public duties makes a woman coarse, and forgetful of home -and husband. Horace, look for one minute at the Widder Albert. Where -will you find among your weak fashionable wimmen, so lovin’ a wife, so -devoted a mother? Where will you find a bigger housefull of children, -brought up better than hern? She has had more public duties to perform -than goin’ once a year by the side of her husband, and votin’ for Justice -and Temperance. But did these public duties, that she performed so well, -wean her from her husband?” Says I, “did they take up her mind so that -she didn’t almost break her heart when he died?” says I, “Do you think a -honest desire to live a full life--to use every power that God has given -you--to do your very best for God and humanity, do you think that this -desire modestly and consistently carried into action, will make a woman -coarse and unwomanly, any more than this present fashionable education, -to flirt and simper and catch a rich husband?” - -Says I, “You seem to think that votin’ is goin’ to be such a weight onto -a woman that it will drag her right down from her home into public and -political affairs and leave her there. Such talk is simple, for love -and domestic happiness will be the other weight to the steelyards, as -long as the world stands, and keep a woman’s heart and mind jest as -straight as a string. Votin’ haint a goin’ to spile any woman at all, -be she married, or be she single, and there is a class at the mercy of -the world, fightin’ its hard battle alone--it will _help_ them. The idee -of its hurtin’ a woman to know a little somethin’, is in my mind awful -simple. That was what the slaveholders said about the black Africans--it -would hurt ’em to know too much. That is what Mr. Pope says to-day about -his church members. But I say that any belief, or custom that relies on -oppression and ignorance and weakness to help it on in any degree, ought -to be exploded up. Beautiful weakness and simplicity, haint my style at -all in the line of wimmen. I have seen beautiful simplicities before -now, and they are always affected, selfish critters, sly, underhanded, -their minds all took up with little petty gossip and plottin’s. Why they -can’t set a teacup on the table in a open-hearted noble way. They have -to plot on some byway to get it there, unbeknown to somebody. Their -mouths have been drawed so into simpers, that they couldn’t laugh a -open generous laugh to save their lives. Always havin’ some spear ready -under their soft mantilly, to sweetly spear some other woman in the -back. Horace, they haint my style. Beautiful weakness and simplicity -may do for one evenin’ in a ball room. But it don’t wear well for all -the cares and emergencies that come in a life of from 40 to 50 years. -Was George Washington’s mother any the less a industrious equinomical -and affectionate wife and mother, because she took a interest in public -affairs?” And says I, with a lower and more modest tone, “Is Josiah -Allen’s wife on that account any the less devoted to Josiah?” - -He knew I was perfectly devoted to that man. He set mewsin’ silently for -a time seemin’ly on somethin’ I had said heretofore, and finally he spoke -up. “The case of Victory is very different. A crown that descends on a -hereditary head is a different thing.” - -“So ’tis,” says I, “But the difference is on the wrong side, for sposin’ -it descends onto the head of a hereditary fool--or a hereditary mean -woman. If a woman was voted for it would be for goodness, or some other -good quality.” - -Says Horace, wavin’ off that idee and pursuin’ after his own thoughts, -“Man is sometimes mistaken in his honest beliefs, but Nature makes her -laws unerringly. Nature intended the male of every species to take the -preeminence. Nature designed man to be at the head of all public affairs. -Nature never makes any mistakes.” - -“Nature made queen bees Horace. Old Nature herself clapped the crown on -to ’em. You never heard of king bees, did you? Industrious equinomical -critters the bees are too. The public duties of that female don’t spile -her, for where will you find house-work done up slicker than hern? Where -will you find more stiddy, industrious, equinomical orderly doin’s -through a whole nation than she has in hern? All her constituents -up to work early in the mornin’, home at night too, jest as stiddy -as the night comes. No foreign spys can come prowlin’ ’round her -premises--speculators on other folks’es honey haint encouraged,--tobacco -is obnoxious to ’em. Only one thing I don’t approve of, if food is -skurce, if the females don’t get honey enough to last the whole hive, -all winter, they slaughter the male bees in the fall to save honey. I -don’t approve of it; but where will you find a great nater that haint -got its peculiar excentricities? This is hern. She wants to dispose of -the drones as they call the lazy husbands of the workin’ wimmen, and -she thinks killin’ is the easiest way to dispose of ’em. I say plainly -I don’t approve of it, it don’t seem exactly right to kill a husband to -save winterin’ him, it would seem better to me to get divorces from ’em -and set ’em up in business in a small way. But as I said, where is there -a nater that haint got a weakness? _this_ is hern. But aside from this -where will you find a better calculator than she is? No dashin’ female -lobsteresses pullin’ the wool over the eyes of _her_ Senators. No old -men bees gaddin’ ’round evenin’s when their confidin’ wives think they -are a-bed dreamin’ about their lawful pardners--no wildcatishness, and -smokin’ and drunkenness, and quarellin’ in _her_ Congress. You can’t -impeach _her_ administration no how, for no clock work ever run smoother -and honester. In my opinion there has a great many men set up in their -high chairs that would have done well to pattern after this Executive -female.” - -As I finished, flushed with several different emotions, Horace rose up -and grasped me by the hand, and says almost warmly, - -“I am glad to have met you, Josiah Allen’s wife, you have presented the -subject in a new, and eloquent light. I admire eloquence wherever I meet -it.” - -The praise of this great, and good man was like manny to an Isrealitess. -My breast almost swelled with proud and triumphant emotions. But even -then, in that blissful moment, I thought of Josiah, no rock was ever -firmer than my allegience to that man, I withdrawed my hand gently from -his’en, and I said to him, with a beamin’ face, - -“You grasped holt of my hand, Horace, with the noblest and purest of -feelin’s, but I don’t think Josiah would like to have me shake hands so -often with any man.” - -Says he, “I honor your sentiments, Josiah Allen’s wife, I think you are a -firm principled woman, and a earnest, well wisher of your sect. But I do -think you are in a error, I honestly think so. The Creator designed woman -for a quiet, home life, it is there she finds her greatest happiness and -content. God gave her jest those faculties that fit her for that life. -God never designed her to go rantin’ round in public, preachin’ and -lecturin’.” - -Says I, “Horace, I agree with you in thinkin’ that home is the best place -for most wimmen. But you say that wimmen have great influence, and great -powers of perswasion, and why not use them powers to win men’s soles, and -to influence men in the cause of Temperance and Justice, as well as to -use ’em all up in teasin’ thier husbands to buy ’em a summer bunnet and a -pair of earrings? And take such wimmen as Anna Dickinson--what under the -sun did the Lord give her such powers of eloquence and perswasion for, -if He didn’t calculate to have her use ’em? Why you would say a human -bein’ was a fool, that would go to work and make a melodious piano, a -calculatin’ to have it stand dumb forever, holdin’ back all the music in -it not lettin’ any of it come out to chirk folks up, and make ’em better. -When a man makes a cheese press, he don’t expect to get music out of it, -it hain’t reasonable to expect a cheese press to play Yankee Doodle, and -old Hundred. I, myself, wasn’t calculated for a preacher. - -“I believe the Lord knows jest what He wants of his creeters here below -from the biggest to the littlest. When He makes a grasshopper, He -makes it loose jinted, on purpose to jump. Would that grasshopper be a -fullfillin’ his mission and doin’ God’s will, if he should draw his long -legs up under him, and crawl into a snail’s house and make a lame hermit -of himself?” - -Says Horace, in reasonable accents, “No, Josiah Allen’s wife, no, he -wouldn’t.” - -“Wall,” says I, “likewise with birds, if the Lord hadn’t wanted the sing -to come out of thier throats, He wouldn’t have put it into ’em. And -when the Lord has put eloquence, and inspiration, and enthusiasm into a -human sole, you can’t help it from breakin’ out. I say it is right for -a woman to talk, if she has got anything to say for God and humanity. I -have heard men and wimmen both, talk when they hadn’t nothin’ to say, -and it is jest as tiresome in a man, as it is in a woman in my opinion. -Now I never had a call to preach, or if I had, I didn’t hear it, only to -Josiah, I preach to him considerable, I have to. I should feel dreadful -curious a standin’ up in the desk, and takin’ my text, I don’t deny it, -but,” says I, in deep tones, “if the Lord calls a woman to preach--let -her preach, Horace.” - -“Paul says it is a shame for a woman to speak in public,” says Horace. - -Oh what a rush of idees flowed under my foretop as Horace said this, but -I spoke pretty calm, and says I, - -“I hain’t nothin’ aginst Mr. Paul, I think he is a real likely old -bachelder. But I put the words, and example of Jesus before them of any -man, be he married, or be he single.” - -“Men will quote Mr. Paul’s remarks concernin’ wimmen not preachin’, and -say he was inspired when he said that, and I say to ’em, “how is it about -folks not marryin’, he speaks full as pinted about that?” “Oh!” they say, -“he wazzn’t inspired when he said that,” and I say to ’em, “how can you -tell--when a man is 18 or 19 hundred years older than you be--how can -you tell when he was inspired and when he wazzn’t, not bein’ a neighbor -of his’en.” And after all, Mr. Paul didn’t seem to be so awful set on -this subject, for he went right on to tell how a woman’s head ought to -be fixed when she was a prayin’ and a prophecyin’. But in my opinion, -all that talk about wimmen was meant for that church he was a writin’ -to, for some reason confined to that time, and don’t apply to this day, -or this village--and so with marryin’. When a man was liable to have his -head cut off any minute, or to be eat up by lions, it wazzn’t convenient -to marry and leave a widder and a few orphans. That is my opinion, other -folks have thiern. But let folks quarell all they have a mind to, as to -whether Mr. Paul was inspired when he wrote these things, or whether he -wazzn’t, this _we know_, that Jesus is a divine pattern for us to follow, -and He chose a woman to carry the glad tidin’s of His resurrection to -the bretheren. There was one woman who received her commission to preach -right from the Almighty. - -“How dare any man to try to tie up a woman’s tongue, and keep her from -speakin’ of Him, when she was His most tender and faithful friend when -He was on earth. It was wimmen who brought little children that He might -bless ’em. Did He rebuke ’em for thus darin’ to speak to Him publicly? -No; but He rebuked the men who tried to stop ’em. - -“It was a women who annointed His feet, wet ’em with her tears, and wiped -’em with the hairs of her head. It was very precious ointment--but none -too precious for Him she loved so. Some logical clear minded men present, -thought it was too costly to waste on Him. And again Jesus rebuked ’em -for troublin’ the woman. It was in comfortin’ a woman’s lovin’ achin’ -heart that Jesus wept. It was wimmen that stood by the cross to the very -last and who stood by his grave weepin’, when even Joseph had rolled a -great stun aginst it and departed. And it was wimmen who came to the -grave agin in the mornin’ while it was yet dark. And it was a woman that -He first revealed Himself to after He rose. What if Mary had hung back, -and refused to tell of Him, and the glory she had seen. Would He have -been pleased? No; when God calls a woman to tell of the wonders of His -love and glory that He has revealed to her out of the darkness of this -life, in the Lord’s name let her answer. But let her be certain that it -is the Lord that is callin’ her, there is lots of preachers of both sects -in my opinion that pretend the Lord is a callin’ ’em, when it is nothin’ -but their own vanity and selfishness that is hollerin’ to ’em.” - -For pretty near ½ or ¾ of a minute, Horace set almost lost in deep -thought, and when he broke out agin it was on the old theme. He said -“wedlock was woman’s true spear. In the noble position of wife and -mother, there lay her greatest happiness, and her only true spear.” He -talked pretty near nine minutes, I should think on this theme. And he -talked eloquent and grand, I will admit, and never did I see spectacles -shine with such pure fervor and sincerity as his’en. It impressed me -deeply. Says he in conclusion, “Marriage is God’s own Institution. To -be the wife of a good man, and the mother of his children, ought to be -a woman’s highest aim, and purest happiness. Jest as it is man’s highest -happiness to have a woman entirely dependant on him. It rouses his -noblest and most generous impulses, it moves his heart to do and dare and -his arm to labor--to have a gentle bein’ clingin’ to his manly strength.” - -His eloquence so impressed me, that I had no words to reply to him. And -for the first time sense I had begun to foller up the subject, my mind -wavered back and forth, as Bunker Hill monument might, in a eloquent -earthquake. I says to myself, “mebbe I am mistaken, mebbe marriage is -woman’s only true spear.” I didn’t know what to say to him, my spectacles -wandered about the room, and happened to light onto Betsey--(I had been -so took up with my mission to Horace that I had forgot to introduce -her) and as they lit, Horace, who saw I was deeply impressed, repeated -something about “clingin’” and I says to him in a foolish and almost -mechanical tone, - -“Yes Horace, I have seen clingers, here is one.” - -Betsey riz right up, and come forrerd, and made a low curchy to him, and -set down tight to him, and says she, - -“Beloved and admired Mr. Horace Greeley, I am Betsey Bobbet the poetess -of Jonesville, and you speak my sentiments exactly. I think, and I know -that wedlock is woman’s only true speah. I do not think wimmen ought to -have any rights at all. I do not think she ought to want any. I think it -is real sweet and genteel in her not to have any rights. I think that -to be the clinging, devoted wife of a noble husband would be almost a -heaven below. I do not think she ought to have any other trade at all -only wedlock. I think she ought to be perfectly dependent on men, and -jest cling to them, and oh how sweet it would be to be in that state. How -happyfying to males and to females that would be. I do not believe in -wimmen having their way in anything, or to set up any beliefs of their -own. For oh! how beautiful and perfectly sweet a noble manly mind is. -How I do love your intellect, dearest Mr. Horace Greeley. How is your -wife’s health dear man? Haint I read in the papers that her health was a -failing? And if she should drop off, should you think of entering again -into wedlock? and if you did, should you not prefer a woman of genius, a -poetess, to a woman of clay?” - -Her breath give out here, and she paused. But oh what a change had come -over Horace’s noble and benign face, as Betsey spoke. As she begun, his -head was thrown back, and a eloquent philosofical expression set onto it. -But gradually it had changed to a expression of dread and almost anger, -and as she finished, his head sunk down onto his breast, and he sithed. I -pitied him, and I spoke up to Betsey, says I, “I haint no more nor less -than a clay woman, but I know enough to know that no man can answer 25 -or 26 questions to once. Give Horace time to find and recover himself.” - -Betsey took a bottle of hartshorn and a pair of scissors, outen her -pocket, and advanced onto him, and says she in tender cooin’ tones. “Does -your intellectual head ache? Let me bathe that lofty forwerd. And oh! -dearest man, will you hear my one request that I have dreampt of day and -night, will you--will you give me a lock of your noble hair?” - -Horace rose up from his chair precipitately and come close to me and sot -down, bringin’ me between him and Betsey, and then he says to her in a -fearless tone, “You can’t have a hair of my head, I haint got much as you -can see, but what little I have got belongs to my wife, and to America. -My wife’s health is better, and in case of her droppin’ off, I shouldn’t -never marry agin, and it wouldn’t be a poetess! though,” says he wipin’ -his heated forwerd, - -“I respect ’em as a Race.” - -Betsey was mad. Says she to me, “I am a goin. I will wait for you to the -depott.” And before I could say a word, she started off. As the door -closed I says in clear tones, “Horace, I have watched you for years--a -laberin’ for truth and justice and liftin’ up the oppressed, I have -realized what you have done for the Black African. You have done more for -that Race than any other man in America, and I have respected you for -it, as much as if I was a Black African myself. But never! never did I -respect you as I do this minute.” Says I, “if every married man and woman -had your firm and almost cast iron principles, there wouldn’t be such a -call for powder and bullets among married folks as there is now. You have -riz in my estimation 25 cents within the last 7 or 8 minutes.” - -Horace was still almost lost in thought, and he didn’t reply to me. He -was a settin’ about half or 3 quarters of a yard from me, and I says to -him mildly, - -“Horace, it may be as well for you to go back now to your former place of -settin’, which was about 2 and a half yards from me.” He complied with my -request, mechanically as it was. But he seemed still to be almost lost in -thought. Finally he spoke--as he wiped the sweat off that had started out -onto his eye brow--these words, - -“I am not afraid, nor ashamed to change my mind, Josiah Allen’s wife, -when I am honestly convinced I have been in an error.” Says he, “It is -cowards only that cling outwardly to thier old mouldy beliefs, for fear -they shall be accused of being inconsistent and fickle minded.” - -[Illustration: FILLIN’ WOMAN’S SPEAH UNDER DIFFICULTIES.] - -Says I, “That is just my opinion Horace! I have been cheated by pickin’ -out a calico dress in the evenin’. Things look different by daylight, -from what they do by candle light. Old beliefs that have looked first -rate to you, may look different under the brighter light of new -discoveries. As you rise higher above the earth you see stars you -couldn’t ketch sight of in a suller way. And the world’s cry of fickle -mindedness, may be the angels’ war whoop, settin’ us on to heavenly -warfare’.” - -Horace seemed agin to be almost lost in thought, and I waited -respectfully, for him to find and recover himself. Finally he spake, - -“I have been sincere Josiah Allen’s wife, in thinkin’ that matrimony -was woman’s only spear, but the occurances of the past 25 or 30 minutes -has convinced me that wimmen may be too zealous a carryin’ out that -spear. I admit Josiah Allen’s wife, that any new state of public affairs -that would make woman more independent of matrimony, less zealous, less -reckless in handlein’ that spear, might be more or less beneficial both -to herself, and to man.” - -Here he paused and sithed. He thought of Betsey. But I spoke right up in -glad and triumphant tones, - -“Horace, I am ready to depart this minute for Jonesville. Now I can lay -my head in peace upon my goose feather pillow.” - -I riz up in deep emotion, and Horace he riz up too. It was a thrillin’ -moment. At last he spoke in agitated tones, for he thought still of what -he had jest passed through. - -“My benefactor, I tremble to think what might have happened had you not -been present.” And he ran his forefinger through his almost snowy hair. - -“My kind preserver, I want to give you some little token of my friendship -at parting. Will you accept as a slight token of my dethless gratitude, -‘What I know about Farming,’ and two papers of lettice seed?” - -I hung back, I thought of Josiah. But Horace argued with me, says -he, “I respect your constancy to Josiah, but intellect--spoken or -written--scorns all the barriers of sex and circumstance, and is as free -to all, as the sunshine that beats down on the just and the unjust, the -Liberal Republicans and the Grant party, or the married and the single.” -Says he, “take the book without any scruples, and as for the lettice -seed, I can recommend it, I think Josiah would relish it.” - -Says I, “On them grounds I will accept of it, and thank you.” - -As we parted at the door, in the innocence of conscious rectitude, we -shook hands, and says I, “Henceforth, Horace you will set up in a high -chair in my mind, higher than ever before. Of course, Josiah sets first -in my heart, and then his children, and then a few relations on my side, -and on his’en. But next to them you will always set, for you have been -weighed in the steelyards, and have been found not wantin’.” - -He was to agitated to speak, I was awful agitated too. Our silver mounted -spectacles met each other in a last glance of noble, firm principled -sadness, and so Horace and I parted away from each other. - - - - -A SEA VOYAGE. - - -After I left Horace, I hastened on, for I was afraid I was behind time. -Bein’ a large hefty woman, (my weight is 200 and 10 pounds by the -steelyards now) I could not hasten as in former days when I weighed 100 -pounds less. I was also encumbered with my umberell, my satchel bag, my -cap box and “What I know about Farming.” But I hastened on with what -speed I might. But alas! my apprehensions was too true, the cars had -gone. What was to be done? Betsey sat on her portmanty at the depott, -lookin’ so gloomy and depressted, that I knew that I could not depend -on her for sukker, I must rely onto myself. There are minutes that try -the sole, and show what timber it is built of. Not one trace of the wild -storm of emotions that was ragin’ inside of me, could be traced on my -firm brow, as Betsey looked up in a gloomy way and says, - -“What are we going to do now?” - -No, I rose nobly to meet the occasion, and said in a voice of marbel -calm, “I don’t know Betsey.” Then I sot down, for I was beat out. Betsey -looked wild, says she, “Josiah Allen’s wife I am sick of earth, the cold -heartless ground looks hollow to me. I feel jest reckless enough to dare -the briny deep.” Says she, in a bold darin’ way, - -“Less go home on the canal.” - -The canal boat run right by our house, and though at first I hung back -in my mind, thinkin’ that Josiah would never consent to have me face the -danger of the deep in the dead of the night, still the thought of stayin’ -in New York village another night made me waver. And I thought to myself, -if Josiah knew jest how it was--the circumstances environin’ us all -round, and if he considered that my board bill would cost 3 dollars more -if I staid another night, I felt that he would consent, though it seemed -perilous, and almost hazardous in us. So I wavered, and wavered, Betsey -see me waver, and took advantage of it, and urged me almost warmly. - -But I didn’t give my consent in a minute. I am one that calmly weighs any -great subject or undertakin’ in the ballances. - -Says I, “Betsey have you considered the danger?” Says I, “The shore we -was born on, may sometimes seem tame to us, but safety is there.” Says -I, “more freedom may be upon the deep waters, but it is a treacherous -element. Says I, “I never, tempted its perils in my life, only on a -bridge.” - -“Nor I neither,” says she. But she added in still more despairin’ tones, -“What do I care for danger? What if it is a treacherous element? What -have I got to live for in this desert life? And then,” says she, “the -captain of a boat here, is mother’s cousin, he would let us go cheap.” - -Says I in awful deep tones of principle. “_I_ have got Josiah to live -for--and the great cause of Right, and the children. And I feel for their -sakes that I ought not to rush into danger.” But agin I thought of my -board bill, and agin I felt that Josiah would give his consent for me to -take the voyage. - -Betsey had been to the village with her father on the canal, and she knew -the way, and suffice it to say, as the sun descended into his gory bed -in the west, its last light shone onto Betsey and me, a settin’ in the -contracted cabin of the canal boat. - -We were the only females on board, and if it hadn’t been for Betsey’s -bein’ his relation, we couldn’t have embarked, for the bark was heavily -laden. The evening after we embarked, the boat sailin’ at the time under -the pressure of 2 miles an hour, a storm began to come up, I didn’t say -nothin’, but I wished I was a shore. The rain come down--the thunder -roared in the distance--the wind howled at us, I felt sad. I thought of -Josiah. - -As the storm increased Betsey looked out of the window, and says she, - -“Josiah Allen’s wife we are surrounded by dangers, one of the horses has -got the heaves, can you not heah him above the wild roah of the tempest? -And one of them is balky, I know it.” And liftin’ her gloomy eyes to the -ceilin’ so I couldn’t see much of ’em but the whites, says she, “Look at -the stove-pipe! see it sway in the storm, a little heavieh blast will -unhinge it. And what a night it would be for pirates to be abroad, and -give chase to us. But,” she continued, “my soul is in unison with the -wild fury of the elements. I feel like warbling one of the wild sea odes -of old,” and she begun to sing, - - “My name is Robert Kidd, - As I sailed, as I sailed. - My name is Robert Kidd, as I sailed.” - -She sung it right through; I should say by my feelin’s, it took her -nigh on to an hour, though my sufferin’s I know blinded me, and made my -calculations of time less to be depended on than a clock. She sang it -through once, and then she began it agin, she got as far the second time -as this, - - My name is Robert Kidd, - And so wickedly I did - As I sailed, as I sailed, - Oh! so wickedly I did - As I sailed. - -The cabin was dark, only lit by one kerosene lamp, with a chimbly dark -with the smoke of years. Her voice was awful; the tune was awful; I stood -it as long as I could seemin’ly, and says I, in agitated tones, - -“I wouldn’t sing any more Betsey, if I was in your place.” - -Alas! better would it have been for my piece of mind, had I let her -sing. For although she stopped the piece with a wild quaver that made me -tremble, she spoke right up, and says she, - -“My soul seems mountin’ up and in sympathy with the scene. My spirit is -soarin’, and must have vent. Josiah Allen’s wife have you any objections -to my writin’ a poem. I have got seven sheets of paper in my portmanty.” - -The spirit of my 4 fathers rose up in me and says I, firmly, - -“When I come onto the deep, I come expectin’ to face trouble--I am -prepared for it,” says I, “a few verses more or less haint a goin’ to -overthrow my principles.” - -She sot down by the table and began to take off her tow curls and -frizzles, I should think by a careless estimate that there was a six -quart pan full. And then she went to untwistin’ her own hair, which was -done up at the back side of her head in a little nubbin about as big as ½ -a sweet walnut. Says she, - -“I always let down my haih, and take out my teeth when I write poetry, I -feel moah free and soahing in my mind.” Says she in a sort of a apoligy -way, “Genious is full of excentricities, that seem strange to the -world’s people.” - -Says I, calmly “You can let down, and take out, all you want to, I can -stand it.” - -But it was a fearful scene. It was a night never to be forgot while -memory sets up on her high chair in my mind. Outside, the rain poured -down, overhead on deck, the wind shrieked at the bags and boxes, -threatenin’ ’em with almost an instant destruction. The stove pipe that -run up through the floor shook as if every blast would unjinte it, and -then the thought would rise up, though I tried to put it out of my head, -who would put it up again. One of the horses was balky, I knew, for I -could hear the driver swear at him. And every time he swore, I thought -of Josiah, and it kep’ him in my mind most all the time. Yes, the storm -almost raved outside, and inside, a still more depressin’ and fearful -sight to me--Betsey Bobbet sot with her few locks streamin’ down over her -pale and holler cheeks, for her teeth was out, and she wrote rapidly, -and I knew, jest as well as I know my name is Josiah Allen’s wife, that -I had got to hear ’em read. Oh! the anguish of that night! I thought of -the happy people on shore, in thier safe and peaceful feather beds, and -then on the treacherous element I was a ridin’ on, and then I thought of -Josiah. Sometimes mockin’ fancy would so mock at me that I could almost -fancy that I heard him snore. But no! cold reality told me that it was -only the heavey horse, or the wind a blowin’ through the stove pipe, and -then I would rouse up to the agonizin’ thought that I was at sea, far, -far from home and Josiah. And then a solemn voice would sometimes make -itself heard in my sole, “Mebby you never will hear him snore agin.” And -then I would sithe heavily. - -And the driver on the tow path would loudly curse that dangerous animal -and the wind would howl ’round the boxes, and the stove pipe would -rattle, and Betsey would write poetry rapidly, and I knew I had got to -hear it. And so the tegus night wore away. Finally at ½ past 2, wore out -as I was with fateegue and wakefullness, Betsey ceased writin’ and says -she. - -“It is done! I will read them to you.” - -I sithed so deeply that even Betsey almost trembled, and says she, - -“Are you in pain, Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -Says I, “only in my mind.” - -“Wall,” says she, “It is indeed a fearful time. But somehow my soul exults -strangely in the perils environing us. I feel like courtin’ and keepin’ -company with danger to-night. I feel as if I could almost dare to mount -that steed wildly careering along the tow path, if I only had a side -saddle. I feel like rushin’ into dangeh, I feel reckless to-night.” - -Here the driver swore fearfully, and still more apaulin’ sight to me, -Betsey opened her paper and commenced readin’: - - STANZES, WRITTEN ON THE DEEP. - - BY BETSEY BOBBET. - - The ground seems hollow unto me; - Men’s vests but mask deep perfidee; - My life has towered so hard and steep, - I seek the wild and raging deep. - - Such knawing pains my soul doth rack, - That even the wild horse on the track - Doth madly prance, and snort and leap; - Welcome the horrors of the deep. - - Oh, Jonesville! on that peaceful shoah, - Methinks I’ll see thy towehs no moeh. - When morn wakes happy, thoughtless sheep - Betsey may slumbeh in the deep. - - If far from thee my bones are doomed, - In these dark waves to be entoomed, - Mermaids I hope will o’er her weep, - Who drownded was, within the deep. - - Dear Augur hopes in ruin lays; - My Ebineezah I could not raise; - Deah lost gazelles, I can but weep, - With gloomy eyes bent o’eh the deep. - - One Slimpsey star, whose name is Simon, - Still twinkles faint, like a small sized diamond; - Oh, star of hope, I sithe, I weep, - Thou shinest so faint across the deep. - -There was between 20 and 30 verses of ’em, but truly it is always the -darkest jest before daylight, for as she was a readin’ of ’em, I--a -leanin’ back in my chair--dropped off to sleep, and forgot my trouble. -Betsey also went to sleep before she read the last of ’em. And when I -waked up, the boat had stopped in front of our house, the wind had gone -down, the sun was a shinin’, and Josiah was comin’ down to the bank. The -danger was all past--Home and Josiah was mine agin. I grasped holt of his -hand as he helped me get off, and in a voice tremulous with feelin’s I -could not control I said, - -“I have got home Josiah! is breakfast ready?” - -There was a tenderness in his tone, and a happy smile on his face that -reminded me of the sweet days of our courtship, as he answered me in a -tone almost husky with emotion, - -“Yes Samantha, all but settin’ the table.” - -[Illustration: AT HOME.] - -Says I, “I’m glad of it, for I’m dreadful hungry.” - - - - -OLD FRIENDS IN NEW GARMENTS. - - -It was a lovely Monday forenoon some three or four weeks after my voyage. -I was a sittin’ near the open back door enjoyin’ the pleasant prospect, -and also washin’ some new potatoes for dinner. Truly it was a fair -scene. The feathered hens was a singin’ in their innocent joy as they -scratched the yieldin’ turf after bugs and worms. Old “Hail the Day” -was proudly struttin’ round, standin’ first on one foot and then on the -other, and crowin’ joyfully in his careless freedom and glee. The breezes -blew sweetly from the west, and I thought with joy that my clothes on -the clothes line would be ready to iron by the time I got dinner out -of the way. The sun shone down out of a blue and cloudless sky, and I -looked pensively at my green gages, and thought fondly how the sun was a -ripenin’ ’em. All nature was peaceful and serene, and my mind as I gently -scraped the large fair potatoes, and thought how good they was goin’ to -be with the baked lamb I had got in the oven, was as peaceful and serene -as the same. Suddenly I heard the gate click to and I saw old Mr. Bobbet -comin’ up to the house. He seemed dreadfully agitated, and I could hear -him talkin’ to himself. He came right into the door and took his hat off -in one hand, holdin’ his crooked cane in the other and swung ’em both -over his head to once, and says he, - -“It’s done! It’s done!” - -“What’s done,” says I droppin’ my knife onto the floor. - -“Betsey’s gone!” shouted he, and he run out the door like a luny. - -I was a most skairt to death, and remained motionless nigh onto a minute, -when I heard Josiah comin’ in. Little did I dream what a blow was comin’ -onto me. He come and stood right in front of me, and I thought at the -time, he looked at me dreadful curious, but I kep’ on a scrapin’ my -potatoes, (I had got ’em most done.) - -Finally all at once Josiah spoke up and says he, - -“Betsey Bobbett is married.” - -I dropped the pan of potatoes right down onto the floor for I was as weak -as a weak white cat. “Who! Josiah Allen! who! is the man?” - -“Simon Slimpsey,” says he, “They was married last night--as I was comin’ -by the old cider mill----” - -“I see all through it,” says I mournfully. “He and seven or eight of his -children have been sick, and Betsey would go and take care of ’em.” - -“Yes,” says Josiah, “As I was comin’ past the old cider mill----” - -Says I with spirit, “It ought to be looked into. He was a helpless old -man, and she has took the advantage of him.” I went on warmly, for I -thought of his gloomy fourbodin’s, and I always felt for the oppressted -and imposed upon. I had went on I presume as much as 2 minutes and a ½ -when Josiah says he, - -“I wouldn’t take on so about it Samantha, anybody to hear you talk would -think you was a perfect farrago.” - -Says I, “If I was a goin’ to abuse my wife and call her names I would do -it accordin’ to grammar, you mean “virtigo” Josiah.” - -“Wall I said virtigo, didn’t I?” Josiah never will own that he is in the -wrong. - -“And I didn’t say you _was_ a virtigo Samantha, only anybody would take -you for a virtigo, that didn’t know you.” - -I remained almost lost in sad thoughts for pretty nigh ½ a minute, and -then I says, in mournful tones, - -“Have you heard any of the particulars Josiah? Have you seen any of the -relatives? was the old man any more reconciled to the last?” - -“Yes,” says Josiah, “As I was comin’ by the old cider mill--” - -“Wall do for conscience sake _come_ by the old cider mill, and be done -with it,” says I, feelin’ worried out in my mind and by the side of -myself. - -“How be I goin’ to _get_ by Samantha? you are so agravatin’, you’ll never -let me finish a story peacible, and I should think it was about dinner -time.” - -“So ’tis,” says I, soothin’ly, hangin’ on the tea-kettle, and puttin’ the -potatoes over the stove in the summer kitchen. For a long and arduous -study of the sect has convinced me that good vittles are more healin’ -than oil to pour onto a man’s lacerated feelin’s. And the same deep study -has warned me _never_ to get mad at the same time Josiah does, on these -2 great philisofical laws, hangs all the harmony of married life. Then I -stepped out onto the stoop agin, and says to him in calm, affectionate -accents, - -“What is it about the old cider mill, Josiah?” - -“Nothin’” says he, “Only I met one of the first mourners--I mean one of -old Slimpsey’s sisters there, and she told me about it, she said that -sense the Editer of the Auger was married, and sense Betsey had got back -from New York she had acted like a wild critter. She seemed to think it -was now or never. The awful doom of not bein’ married at all, seemed to -fall upon her, and craze her with wild horror. And findin’ Slimpsey who -was a weak sort of a man any way, and doubly weakened now by age and -inflamatory rheumatism, she went and took care of him, and got the upper -hand of him, made him a victim and married him, at his own house, Sunday -night at half past seven.” - -I was so lost in sorrowful thought as Josiah continued the mournful tale, -that Josiah says, in a soothin’ tone, - -“You ought to try to be reconciled to it Samantha, it seems to be the -Lord’s will that she should marry him.” - -“I don’t believe in layin’ every mean low lived thing to the Lord, -Josiah, I lay this to Betsey Bobbet;” and I agin plunged down into gloomy -thought, and was roused only by his concludin’ words, - -“Seems to me Samantha, you might have a few griddle cakes, the bread--I -see this mornin’--was gettin’ kinder dry.” - -Mechanically I complied with his request, for my thoughts wasn’t there, -they was with the afflicted, and down trodden. - -One week after this I was goin’ up the post office steps, and I come face -to face with Simon Slimpsey. He had grown 23 years older durin’ the past -week. But he is a shiftless, harmless critter hurtin’ himself more’n -any body else. He was naturally a small boned man. In the prime of his -manhood he might have come up to Betsey’s shoulders, but now withered by -age and grief the highest hat was futile to bring him up much above her -belt ribbon. He looked sad indeed, my heart bled for him. But with the -instinctive delicacy inherient to my sect, I put on a jokeuler tone, and -says I, as I shook hands with him, - -“How do you do, Simon? I hain’t seen you before, sense you was married, -Simon Slimpsey.” - -He looked at me almost wildly in the face, and says he in a despairin’ -tone, - -“I knew it would come to this, Miss Allen! I knew it. I told you how it -would be, you know I did. She always said it was her spear to marry, I -knew I should be the one, I always was the one.” - -“Don’t she use you well, Simon Slimpsey?” - -“She is pretty hard on me,” says he. “I hain’t had my way in anything -sense the day she married me. She begun to ‘hold my nose to the -grindstone,’ as the saying is, before we had been married 2 hours. And -she hain’t no housekeeper, nor cook, I have had to live on pancakes most -of the time sense it took place, and they are tougher than leather; I -have been most tempted to cut some out of my boot legs to see if they -wouldn’t be tenderer, but I never should hear the end of it, if I did. -She jaws me awfully, and orders me round as if I was a dog, a yeller -dog--” he added despairin’ly, “if I was a yeller dog, she couldn’t seem -to look down on me any more, and treat me any worse.” - -Says I, “I always did mistrust these wimmen that talk so much about not -wantin’ any rights, and clingin’ and so forth. But,” says I, not wantin’ -to run anybody to thier backs, “she thought it was her spear to marry.” - -“I told you,” says he, in agonizin’ tones, “I told you that spear of -hern would destroy me, and it has.” - -He looked so sorrowful that I says to him in still more jokeuler tones -than I had yet used, “Chirk up Simon Slimpsey, I wish you joy.” I felt -that he needed it indeed. He give me an awful look that was jest about -half reproach, and half anguish, and I see a tear begin to flow. I turned -away respectin’ his feelin’s. As he went down the steps slowly, I see -him put his hands in his pockets, as if searchin’ for his handkerchief, -seemin’ly in vain. But he had on a long blue broadcloth swallow tailed -coat that he was married in the first time long years ago, and as he went -round the corner he took up the skirts of his coat and wiped his eyes. I -said to myself with a deep sithe, “And this is woman’s only spear.” And -the words awakened in my breast as many as 19 or 20 different emotions, -and I don’t know but more. - -I murmured mewsin’ly to myself, “It seems to me, if I was a woman I -should about as lives be a constable.” - -While I was still mewsin’, Betsey, his wife tore down the street, in a -distracted way, and paused before me. - -“Have you seen my husband?” says she, “can you tell a distracted -wife--have you seen her husband Simon Slimpsey?” - -She looked wild, as if she feared a catastrophe, and she cried out, -loosin’ holt of her self control, in a firm constable like tone, - -“He shall not escape me! I will telegraph to the next station house! I -will have the creek dragged! the woods shall be scoured out!” says she. - -“Be calm, and compose yourself,” says I frigidly, “Simon Slimpsey has -gone up towards his house.” - -She heaved a deep sithe of content, and triumph agin brooded down upon -her eye-brow as she follered on after him. - -I hadn’t no idee of callin’ on her, I wouldn’t, but the next day, Simon -Slimpsey went by on his old white horse. It is a very dejected lookin’ -horse in the face, besides carryin’ a couple of wash-boards in its sides, -in the line of ribs. Thomas Jefferson says, “What gives it its mournful -expression, it is mournin’ for the companions of its youth.” Says he, -“you know Noah saved a pair of everything,” and says he, “his poor -companion passed away several thousand years ago.” That boy worrys me, -I don’t know what he is comin’ to. Slimpsey’s old horse haint more’n 35 -or 40 years old, I don’t believe. They say Betsey is makin’ a pale blue -cambric ridin’ dress, and is goin’ to ride him a horse back this fall. It -don’t seem to me there would be much fun in it, he is so lame, besides -havin’ a habit of fallin’ frequently with the blind staggers; howsomever -it’s none of my business. - -But as I was a sayin’ I stood silently in the door, to see old Slimpsey -go by a horseback, and I thought to myself as I pensively turned out my -tea grounds, (I was a gettin’ dinner) how much--how much it looks like -a night mare that has broke out of its lawful night pastures, and is -runnin’ away with a pale and harassed victim. So haggard and melancholy -did they both look. And I sithed. I hadn’t much more’n got through -sithin’, when he rode up, and says he, - -“The seventh boy is worse, and the twin girls are took down with it, it -would be a melankoly pleasure Miss Allen if you could go up.” I went. - -Betsey had got the most of ’em to sleep, and was settin’ between a few -cradles, and trundle beds, and high chairs all filled with measles, and a -few mumps. Betsey’s teeth was out, and her tow frizzles lay on the table -with a lot of paper--so I mistrusted she had been writin’ a poem. But -she was now engaged in mendin’ a pair of pantaloons, the 8th pair--she -told me--she had mended that day, for Simon Slimpsy was a poor man, and -couldn’t afford to buy new ones. They was a hard and mournful lookin’ -pair, and says I to her--in a tone in which pity and contempt was blended -about half and half-- - -“Betsey are you happy?” - -“I am at rest,” says she, “more at rest than I have been for years.” - -“Are you happy?” says I, lookin’ keenly at her. - -“I feel real dignified,” says she, “There isn’t no use in a woman trying -to be dignified till she is married, for she can’t. I have tried it -and I know. I can truly say Josiah Allen’s wife, that I neveh knew what -dignity was, until one week ago last Sunday night at half past seven in -the evenin’,” says she, turnin’ over the pantaloons, and attactin’ a -ghastly hole of about 7 by 9 dimensions in the left knee. - -I sot silently in my chair like a statute, while she remarked thus, and -as she paused, I says to her agin, fixing my mild but stern grey eyes -upon her weary form, bendin’ over the dilapitated folds of the 8th. - -“Are you happy Betsey?” - -“I have got something to lean on,” says she. - -I thought of the fragile form bendin’ over the lean and haggard horse, -and totterin’ away, withered by age and grief, in the swallow tailed -coat, and says I in a pityin’ accent, - -“Don’t lean too hard Betsey.” - -“Why?” says she. - -Says I, in a kind of a blind way, “You may be sorry if you do,” and then -I says to her in clear and piercin’ accents these words, - -“Do you love your husband Betsey?” - -“I don’t think love is necessary,” says she, “I am married, which is -enough to satisfy any woman who is more or less reasonable, that is the -main and important thing, and as I have said, love and respect, and so -forth are miners as--” - -“Miners!” says I in a tone of deep indignity, “Miners! Betsey Bobbet--” - -“Mrs Betsey Bobbet Slimpsey,” says she correctin’ of me proudly, as she -attacted another mournful lookin’ hole as big as my two hands, - -“Well! Betsey Slimpsey!” says I, beginnin’ agin, and wavin’ my right -hand in a eloquent wave, “There hain’t no more beautiful sight on earth -than to see two hunan soles, out of pure love to each other, gently -approachin’ each other, as if they must. And at last all thier hopes -and thoughts, and affections runnin’ in together, so you can’t seperate -’em nohow, jest like two drops of rain water, in a mornin’ glory blow. -And to see ’em nestlin’ there, not carin’ for nobody outside the blow, -contented and bound up in each other, till the sun evaporates ’em, (as it -were) and draws ’em up together into the heaven, not seperatin’ of ’em up -there--why such a marriage as that is a sight that does men and angels -good to look at. But when a woman sells herself, swaps her purity, her -self respect, her truth, and her sole, for barter of any kind, such as a -house and lot, a few thousand dollars, the name of bein’ married, a horse -and buggy, some jewellry, and etcetery, and not only sells herself, but -worse than the Turk wimmen goes round herself, huntin’ up a buyer, crazy, -wild eyed, afraid she won’t find none--when she does find one, suppose -she does have a minister for salesman, my contempt for that female is -unmitigable.” - -Betsey still looked so wrapped up in dignity, as she bravely attacted the -seat of another pair of trousers, that it fairly made me mad. Insted of -that proud and triumphant mean I wanted her to look some stricken, and I -resumed in a tone of indignaty, almost burnin’ enough to set fire to her -apron, - -“Nor I don’t want these wimmen that have sold themselves for a -certificate with a man’s name on it--I don’t want to hear ’em talk about -infamy; haint they infamous themselves? What have they done different -from these other bad wimmen, only they have got a stiddy place, and a -little better wages, such as respectability in the eyes of fools and -etcetery. Do you suppose that a woman standin’ up in front of a minister -and tellin’ a few pesky lies, such as, ‘I promise to love a man I hate, -and respect a man that hain’t respectable, and honor and obey a man I -calculate to make toe the mark’--do you suppose these few lies makes -her any purer in the eyes of God, than if she had sold herself without -tellin’ ’em, as the other infamous wimmen did? Not any. Marriage is like -baptism, as I have said more’n a hundred times, you have got to have the -inward grace and the outward form to make it lawful and right. What good -does the water do, if your sole haint baptised with the love of God? It -haint no better than fallin’ into the creek.” - -I paused, spotted in the face from conflictin’ emotions, and Betsey begun -in a haughty triumphant tone, - -“Woman’s speah--” - -Which words and tone combined with recollections of the aged sufferer in -the blue swallow tailed coat, so worked on my indignation, that I walked -out of the house without listenin’ to another word, and put on my bunnet -out in the door yard. - -But I hollered back to her from the bars--for Josiah Allen’s wife haint -one to desert duty in any crisis--“that the four youngest boys ought to -be sweat, and take some saffern tea, and I should give the five girls, -and the twins, some catnip, and I’d let the rest of ’em be, till the -docter come.” - -I haint seen Betsey since, for she is havin’ a hard time of it. She has -to work like a dog. For Simon Slimpsey bein’ so poor, and not bein’ no -calculator, it makes it hard for ’em to get along. And the old man seems -to have lost what little energy he had, since he was married, Betsey is -so hard on him. He has the horrors awfully. Betsey takes in work, but -they have a hard time to get along. Miss Gowdey says that Betsey told her -that she didn’t mind workin’ so hard, but she did hate to give up writin’ -poetry, but she didn’t get no time for it. So as is generally the case, a -great good to the world has come out of her sufferin’. - -I guess she haint wrote but one piece sense she was married and they was -wrote I suppose the day I ketched her with her teeth out, for they come -out in the next week’s Gimlet, for just as quick as the Editor of the -Auger was married, Betsey changed her politix and wrote agin as formally -for the Gimlet. - -The following are some of the verses she wrote: - - I AM MARRIED NOW. - - A Him of Victory. - - BY MRS. BETSEY SLIMPSEY _knee_ BOBBET. - - Fate, I defy thee! I have vanquished thee, old maid. - Dost ask why thus, this proud triumphant brow? - I answer thee, old Fate, with loud and joyful burst - Of blissful laughteh, I am married now! - - Once grief did rave about my lonely head; - Once I did droop, as droops a drooping willow bough; - Once I did tune my liah to doleful strains; - ’Tis past! ’tis past my soul! I am married now! - - Then, sneering, venomed darts pierced my lone, lone heart; - Then, mocking married fingers dragged me low, - But now I tune my liah to sweet extatic strains, - My teahs have all been shed, _I_ am married now! - - No gossip lean can wound me by her speech, - I, no humilitatin’ neveh more shall know; - Sorrow, stand off! I am beyond thy ghastly reach, - For Mrs. Betsey Slimpsey (formerly Bobbet) is married now! - - Oh, mournful past, when I in Ingun file - Climbed single life’s, bleak, rocky, mounten’s brow, - Blest lot! that unto wedlock’s glorious glade - Hath led me. Betsey’s married now! - - Oh female hearts with anxious longings stirred, - Cry Ho! for wimmen’s speah, and seal it with a vow, - Take Mrs. Betsey Bobbet Slimpsey’s word - That thou shalt triumph! _I_ am married now! - - Yes, Betsey’s married! sweet to meditate upon it, - To tune my happy liah with haughty, laughing brow - To these sweet, glorious words, the burden of my sonnet, - That Mrs. Betsey Bobbet Slimpsey’s married now! - - - - -HORACE AND JOSIAH. - - -When the news come to me that Horace Greely was dead I almost cried. The -tears did just run down my face like rain-water, I don’t know when I have -come nearer cryin’ than I did then. And my first thought was, they have -tried awful hard to keep him out of the White House, but he has got into -one whiter than any they have got in Washington, D. C. And then my very -next thought was, Josiah Allen’s wife did you say anything to hurt that -man’s feelin’s, when you was a tryin’ to influence him on your tower? - -I believe if folks would only realize how every harsh word, and cold look -they stab lovin’ hearts with, would just turn round like bayonets, and -pierce their own heart in a time like this--they would be more careful -how they handled ’em. But glad enough was I to think that I didn’t say a -hard word to him, but had freed my mind, and told him jest how good I -thought he was, and how much he had done for the Black African, and the -Human Race, before it was too late. Glad enough was I that I didn’t wait -till that noble heart was cold and lifeless, and couldn’t be pained by -unkindness, or made gladder by sympathy, before I gin him mine. - -But in the time of trouble, the love that had been his best reward for -all the successes of his hard workin’ life, had gone from him. And I -know jest how that great heart ached for that love and sympathy. I know -jest how poor the praise of the world would have looked to him, if he -couldn’t have seen it a shinin’ through them lovin’ eyes--and how hard -it was for him to bear its blame alone. Tired out, defeated the world -called him, but he only had to fold his hands, and shet his eyes up and -he was crowned with success in that world where He, who was once rejected -by a majority, crowned with thorns of earthly defeat waits now to give -the crown of Eternal Repose to all true souls, all the weary warriors on -life’s battle field who give their lives for the right. And it seemed so -kinder beautiful too, to think that before she he loved so, hardly had -time to feel strange in them a “many mansions,” he was with her agin, and -they could keep house together all through Eternity. - -Yet,--though as I say, I don’t know when I have come so near cryin’ as -I did then--I said to myself as I wiped my eyes on my apron, I wouldn’t -call him back from that happy rest he had earnt so well if I could. - -But there are other things that are worrysome to me, and make me a sight -of trouble. It was a day or 2 after this, and I was settin’ alone, for -Josiah had gone to mill, and Thomas Jefferson and Maggy Snow and Tirzah -Ann and Whitfield Minkley had gone a slay ridin’, (them two affairs is -in a flourishin’ condition and it is _very_ aggreeable to Josiah and -me, though I make no matches, nor break none--or that is, I don’t make -none, only by talkin’ in a encouragin’ manner, nor break none only with -thoroughwert in a mild way). - -I sot all alone, a cuttin’ carpet rags, and a musin’ sadly. Victory in -jail! And though I felt that she richly deserved it, and I should liked -to have shut her up myself in our suller way, for darin’ to slander -Beecher, still to me who knows her sect so well, it seemed kinder hard -that a woman should be where she couldn’t go a visatin’. And then to -think the good talkin’ to, I give her when I was on my tower hadn’t -ammounted to nothin’, seemin’ly. I wasn’t sorry I had labored with -her--not a mite, I had did my duty anyway. And I knew jest as well as I -know that my name was formally Smith, that when anybody is a workin’ in -the Cause of Right, they hadn’t ought to be discouraged if they didn’t -get their pay down, for you can’t sow your seeds and pick your posys -the same day anyway. And I know that great idees was enough sight harder -to get rooted and a growin’ than the Century plant, and that takes a -hundred years for it to blow out. - -I know all this, but human nater gets kinder tired a waitin’, and there -seems no end to the snows that lay between us and that summer that all -earnest souls are a workin’ for. And then I want my sect to do right,--I -want ’em to be real respectable, and I felt that take Victory all -together she wasn’t a orniment to it. I thought of my sect, and then I -thought of Victory, and then I sithed. Beecher a bein’ lied about, Tilton -ditto and the same, for you see _I_ don’t nor won’t believe what Victory -says against ’em, although they don’t come out and deny the truth of it, -either of ’em, just to satisfy some folks who say that they ought to. -Miss Anthony havin’ a hard tussle of it at Rochester. - -Whitfield Minkley had told me too that day that Miss Aster didn’t keep -tavern herself, and there I had had all my trouble about her for nothin’, -demeanin’ myself by offerin’ to wash dishes for--I know not who. And to -think that Jonothan Beans’es ex-wife should have deceived me so, when -I befriended her so much when she first went to grass. And then when I -thought how all the good advice I had given Victory hadn’t done her no -good, and how Mr. Greely had died, before the seeds I sowed in his bosom -on the great question of Wimmen’s Rights had sprouted and brought forth -fruit, when I see my tower had been in vain, say nothin’ of the money it -cost, oh! how holler the world looked to me, it almost seemed as if it -would break in and let me through, rockin’ chair and all. - -As I sot there a mewsin’ over it, and a cuttin’ my rags, I almost made up -my mind that I would have the dark stripe in my carpet black as a coal, -the whole on it, a sort of mournin’ stripe. But better feelin’s got up -inside of my mind, and I felt that I would put in my but’nut color rather -than waste it. - -Yet oh how holler and onstiddy everything looked to me; who could I -trust, whose apron string could I cling to, without expectin’ it would -break off short with me? For pretty nigh 2 minutes and a half I had -the horrors almost as bad as Simon Slimpsey, (he has ’em now every day -stiddy, Betsey is so hard on him), but oh how sweetly in that solemn time -there came to me the thought of Josiah. Yes, on that worrysome time I -can truly say that Josiah Allen was my theme, and I thought to myself, -there may be handsomer men than he is, and men that weigh more by the -steelyards, but there hain’t one to be found that has heftier morals, -or more well seasoned principles than he has. Yes, Josiah Allen was my -theme, I felt that I could trust my Josiah. I guess I had got mewsin’ -agin on jails and wickedness, and so 4th, for all of a sudden the thought -knocked aginst my heart, - -“What if Josiah Allen should go to cuttin’ up, and behavin’?” - -I wouldn’t let the thought in, I ordered it out. But it kep’ a hangin’ -round,-- - -“What if your Josiah should go to cuttin’ up?” - -I argued with it; says I to myself, I guess I know Josiah Allen, a -likelier man never trod shoe leather. I know him like a book. - -But then thinks’es I--what strange critters men and wimmin be. Now you -may live with one for years, and think you know every crook and turn in -that critter’s mind, jest like a book; when lo! and behold! all of a -sudden a leaf will be turned over, that had been glued together by some -circumstance or other, and there will be readin’ that you never set eyes -on before. Sometimes it is in an unknown tongue--sometimes it is good -readin’, and then again, it is bad. Oh how gloomy and depressted I was. -But Josiah Allen’s wife haint one to give up to the horrers without a -tussle, and though inwardly so tosted about, I rose up and with a brow of -calm, I sot my basket of carpet rags behind the door, and quietly put on -the tea-kettle, for it was about time for Josiah to come. - -Then I looked round to see if there was anything I could do to make -it look more pleasant than it did for Josiah Allen when he came home -cold and tired from the Jonesville mill. It never was my way to stand -stun still in the middle of the floor and smile at him from half to -three-quarters of an hour. Yet it was always my idee that if a woman -can’t make home the pleasantest spot in the world for her husband, she -needn’t complain if he won’t stay there any more than he can help. I -believe there wouldn’t be so many men a meanderin’ off nights into -grog shops, and all sorts of wickedness, if they had a bright home and -a cheerful companion to draw ’em back, (not but what men have to be -corrected occasionally, I have to correct Josiah every little while.) But -good land! It is all I can do to get Josiah Allen and Thomas Jefferson -out of the house long enough to mop. - -I looked round the room, as I said, but not a thing did I see that I -could alter for the better; it was slick as a pin. The painted floor -was a shinin’ like yaller glass, (I had mopped jest before dinner.) The -braided mats, mostly red and green, was a layin’ smooth and clean in -front of the looking-glass, and before the stove, and table. Two or three -pictures, that Thomas Jefferson had framed, hung up aginst the wall, -which was papered with a light colored buff ground work with a red rose -on it. The lounge and two or three rockin’ chairs was cushioned with -handsome copper plate. And Tirzah Ann had got a hangin’ basket of ivy -on the west winder that made that winder look like summer. I’ll bet her -canary hangin’ there in the thickest of the green leaves, thought it was -summer, he sang like it. The stove hearth shone like a silver dollar, and -there was a bright fire, and in a minute the tea-kettle began to sing -most as loud as Whitey, that is her canary’s name. (I mistrust she named -it in that kinder underhanded way, after Whitfield Minkley--though I -never let her know I mistrusted it, but I never could think of any other -earthly reason why she should call it Whitey, for it is as yaller as any -goslin’ I ever laid eyes on.) - -I felt that I couldn’t alter a thing round the house for the better. But -as I happened to glance up into the lookin’-glass, I see that although -I looked well, my hair was slick and I had on a clean gingham dress, my -brown and black plaid, still I felt that if I should pin on one of Tirzah -Ann’s bows that lay on the little shelf under the lookin’-glass I might -look more cheerful and pleasant in the eyes of my companion Josiah. I -haint made a practice of wearin’ bows sense I jined the meetin’-house. -And then agin I felt that I was too old to wear ’em. Not that I felt -bad about growin’ old. If it was best for us to have summer all the -year round, I know we should have it. As I have said to Josiah Allen -more’n once when he got kinder doun hearted, says I, Josiah Allen look -up where the stars are shinin’ and tell me if you think that with all -them countless worlds, with all that wealth in His hands, and His lovin’ -heart, the Lord begruches anything that is for His children’s good. No! I -am willin’ to take God’s year as it comes, summer and winter. - -And then do you s’pose I would if I could by turning my hand over, go -back into my youth agin, and leave Josiah part way down hill alone? No! -the sunshine and the mornin’ are on the other side of the hill, and we -are goin’ down into the shadders, my pardner Josiah and me. But we will -go like Mr. and Mrs. Joseph John, that Tirzah Ann sings about-- - - “Hand in hand we’ll go - And we’ll sleep together at the foot.” - -knowing that beyond them shadders is the sunshine of God’s Great Mornin’. - -As I said, I don’t make a practice of wearin’ bows, and this bein’ fire -red, I should have felt a awful backslidin’ feelin’ about wearin’ it, if -I hadn’t felt that principle was upholdin’ me. - -Then I drawed out the table, and put on a clean white table-cloth, and -begun to set it. I had some good bread and butter, I had baked that day, -and my bread was white as snow, and light as day, some canned peaches, -and some thin slices of ham as pink as a rose, and a strawberry pie,--one -of my cans had bust that day, and I made ’em up into pies. And then I -brought up some of my very best cake, such as I keep for company--fruit -cake, and delicate cake. And then after I had put on a great piece of -white honey in a glass dish, and some cheese that was like cream for -richness, the table looked well. - -I had got the table all set, and had jest opened the door to see if he -was a comin’, when lo! and behold! there he stood on the doorstep--he had -come and put his horses out before I see him. He looked awful depressted, -and before he got the snow half off’en his boots, says he: - -“That new whip I bought the other day is gone Samantha. Some feller stole -it while I was gettin’ my grist ground.” - -Says I, “Josiah I have been a mewsin’ on the onstiddiness, and wickedness -of the world all day, and now that whip is gone. What is the world a -comin’ to, Josiah Allen?” - -Josiah is a man that don’t say much, but things wear on him. His face -looked several inches longer than it usially did, and he answered in a -awful depressted tone: - -“I don’t know, Samantha, but I do know, that I am as hungry as a bear.” - -“Wall,” says I, soothingly, “I thought you would be, supper’s all on the -table.” - -He stepped in, and the very minute that man ketched sight of that -cheerful room, and that supper table, that man smiled. And it wasn’t -a sickly, deathly smile either, it was a smile of deep inward joy and -contentment. And says he in a sweet tone, “it seems to me you have got a -awful good supper to-night, Samantha.” - -As I see that smile, and looked into that honest beamin’ face, I jest -turned out them gloomy forebodin’s about him, out of my heart, the whole -caboodle of ’em, and shet the door in their faces. But I controlled my -voice, till it sounded like a perfect stranger to me, and says I: - -“Don’t I always get good suppers, Josiah Allen?” - -“Yes,” says he, “and good dinners and breakfess’es, too. I will say this -for you, Samantha, there haint a better cook in Jonesville, than you be, -nor a woman that makes a pleasanter home.” And he went on placidly, as he -stood there with his back to the fire a warmin’ him, a lookin’ serenely -round that bright warm room, and ont’ that supper table. - -“There haint no place quite so good as home, is there, Samantha? haint -supper about ready?” - -[Illustration: THE PLEASANT SUPPER] - -Says I, firmly, “The Cause of Right, and the Good of the Human Race will -ever be dear to the soul of her who was formally Samantha Smith. But at -the same time that don’t hender me from thinkin’ a sight of my home, and -from gettin’ good suppers. It will be ready, Josiah, jest as quick as the -tea is steeped, I didn’t want to make it till you come, for bilein’ jest -spiles that last tea you got,” and I went on in tones as firm as Plymouth -Rock, yet as tender as a spring chicken. - -“As I have said more’n a hundred times, if it is spelt right there haint -another such a word as home in the English language. The French can’t -spell it at all, and in my opinion that is jest what makes ’em so light -minded and onstiddy. If it is spelt wrong, as in the case of Bobbet and -Slimpsey, it means the horrors, and the very worst kinds of discomfort -and misery. In fact love is the only school-master, that can put out that -word worth a cent. And if it is put out by him, and spelt, for instance, -by a couple who have loved each other for goin’ on fifteen years, with a -firm and almost cast iron affection, why it stands for peace and rest and -comfort, and is the plainest picture God has give us below, kinder as we -put painted pictures in children’s story books, of that great Home above, -where the colors won’t never rub off of the picture, and the peace and -the rest are everlasting.” - -I had been real eloquent, I knew it, and Josiah knew it, for that man -looked awful kinder earnest and serene like. He was silent for mebby half -or three quarters of a minute, and then he said in calm, gentle tones: - -“I guess I’ll carry the grist up stairs before supper, Samantha, and have -it done with.” - -There haint a lazy hair in that man’s head, and for that matter there -haint many of any kind, either smart or shiftless, he grows bald every -day, not that I blame him for it. - -He came down stairs, and we sot down to the table, happy as a king and -queen, for all the old world was a caperin’ and cuttin’ up as if it would -go crazy. The little blackslidin’ feelin’ about wearin’ that fire red bow -died away too, as ever and anon, and I don’t know but oftener, I would -look up and ketch the eye of my companion Josiah bent on me in a pleasant -and sort of a admirin’ way. That bow was becomin’ to me I knew. For as -Josiah passed me his cup for his second cup of tea, (no dishwatery stuff, -I can tell you) he says:[1] - -“I don’t see what makes you look so young and handsome, to-night, -Samantha, I believe I shall have to go to courtin’ you over agin.” - -And I answered him in the same aggreable accents, “I don’t know as the -law could touch you for it Josiah if you did.” - -[1] See Frontispiece. - -THE END. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's My Opinions and Betsey Bobbet's, by Marietta Holley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY OPINIONS AND BETSEY BOBBET'S *** - -***** This file should be named 55594-0.txt or 55594-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/5/9/55594/ - -Produced by Emmy, MFR and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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