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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Samantha in Europe - -Author: Mariettta Holley - -Release Date: December 19, 2021 [eBook #66972] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: hekula03, sf2001, and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMANTHA IN EUROPE *** - - - - -_Samantha in Europe_ - - - - -[Illustration: “He riz right up and shook his fist at the man with the -nightcap.” (See page 641.)] - - - - - _Samantha in Europe_ - - _by_ - - _Josiah Allen’s Wife_ - - (Marietta Holley) - - Illustrated by - - C DeGrimm - - _Printed in the United States_ - - _New York · Funk and Wagnalls Company 1896_ - - _London and Toronto_ - - - - -Copyright, 1895, by - -FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY - - Registered at Stationers’ Hall - London, England - - - - - Dedication. - - TO THE WEARY TRAVELLER WHO YEARNS TO SEE UNDER STRANGE SKIES - THE LIGHT OF THE OLD HOME FIRE, - - THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY - - Samantha and Josiah. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Sez Josiah, as he see me writin’ this preface: - -“Seems to me, Samantha, you’ve writ enough prefaces.” - -(He wanted me to start the supper; but, good land! it wuzn’t only half -past five, and I had a spring chicken all ready to fry, and my cream -biscuit wuz all ready for the oven, on the kitchen table.) - -Sez he, “It seems to me you’ve writ enough on em.” - -And I sez, “Wall, Josiah, I’d hate to sadden the world by sayin’ I -wouldn’t write any more.” - -And he sez, “How do you know it would sadden the world--how do you know -it would?” And he continued: “Samantha, I hain’t wanted to dampen you, -but I have always considered your writin’s weak; naterally they would -be, bein’ writ by a woman; and,” sez he, as he looked longin’ly towards -the buttery door and the plump chicken, “a woman’s spear lays in a -different direction.” - -And I sez, “I thought I’d write some of our adventures in our trip -abroad--that happy time,” sez I, lookin’ inquirin’ly at him. - -“Happy time!” sez he, a-kinder ’nashin’ his teeth--“happy! gracious -Heavens! Do you want to bring up my sufferin’s agin, when I jest lived -through ’em?” - -“Wall,” sez I, a-gittin’ up and approachin’ the buttery, and takin’ -down the tea-kettle and fryin’-pan and coffee-pot, “I have writ other -things in the book that I am more interested in myself.” - -He sot kinder still and demute as I put the chicken on to fry in -butter, and put the cream biscuit in the oven, and poured the bilein’ -water on the fragrant coffee; his mean seemed to grow softer, and he -sez: - -“Mebby I wuz too hash a-sayin’ what I did about your writin’s, -Samantha; I guess you write as well as you know how to; I guess you -_mean_ well;” and as he see me a-spreadin’ the snowy table-cloth on the -little round table, and a-puttin’ on some cream cheese and some peach -sass, he sez further: - -“Nobody is to blame for what they don’t know, Samantha.” - -I looked down affectionately and pityin’ly on his old bald head and -then further off--way off into mysterious spaces no mortal feet has -ever trod, and I sez: - -“That is so, Josiah.” - - - - -TABLE OF CONTENTS. - - - Chapter PAGE - Preface vii - List of Illustrations xi - I. Trains of Retrospection 1 - II. A Heathen Missionary 32 - III. Off into Side Paths 57 - IV. Samantha’s Sword of Truth and Justice 85 - V. A Heathen’s Standard of Morality 105 - VI. A Little Fun and its Price 119 - VII. The Embarkation 135 - VIII. Landing in the Emerald Isle 153 - IX. A Visit to Blarney Castle 173 - X. Killarney, Dublin, and a Wake 183 - XI. Josiah as a Banshee 197 - XII. Robert Burns and Highland Mary 223 - XIII. Edinburgh and Mary Queen of Scots 241 - XIV. Memories of Sir Walter Scott 262 - XV. Old York and its Cathedral 281 - XVI. Edensor and the Duke of Devonshire 300 - XVII. Josiah has an Adventure 322 - XVIII. Shottery and Warwick Castle 354 - XIX. The Lake District and its Poets 374 - XX. The Arrival in London 389 - XXI. Westminster and Parliament Houses 400 - XXII. Samantha Sees a Doctor 418 - XXIII. St. Paul’s and the Duke of Wellington 433 - XXIV. “The Widder Albert” 445 - XXV. A Visit to the British Museum 464 - XXVI. Paris and its Beauties 486 - XXVII. Napoleon and other Great Frenchmen 510 - XXVIII. Germany and Belgium 525 - XXIX. Samantha Climbs the Righi 548 - XXX. Milan, Genoa, Venice 574 - XXXI. Colosseum and Catacombs 602 - XXXII. Fashionable Watering-Places 616 - XXXIII. Cathedrals and Castles in Spain 627 - XXXIV. Josiah’s Devotion 640 - XXXV. The Queen, Ulaley, and a Bull-Fight 651 - XXXVI. A Spanish Funeral and a Jonesville One 664 - XXXVII. Al Faizi Says Good-Bye 674 - XXXVIII. Home again, from a Foreign Shore 683 - XXXIX. Martin’s Terrible Lesson 693 - XL. Good-Night, Little Pardner 707 - Other Works by Josiah Allen’s Wife. 715 - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - PAGE - “He riz right up and shook his fist at the man with the - nightcap” _Frontispiece_ - Twilight on the broad ocean 1 - Asleep in his narrer bunk 4 - Two prettier, winnin’er creeters never lived than them two 9 - “Aunt Samantha, where is Heaven? Is it up in the sky?” 12 - He sassed him and yelled out, “You dum fool, you, - throw me a board!” 16 - “It depends on whose lives they be” 18 - Josiah and me put on our strongest specks 27 - It wuz very dressy when it wuz done 31 - A dark figger that riz up like a strange picter aginst the sunset 34 - “I don’t love to hear that; that sounds bad” 39 - “‘That man is a Christian.’ ‘How do you know?’ - ‘Because he is drunk’” 45 - “Uncle Sam a-wadin’ in sin up to his old knee jints” 49 - The game of Bulls and Bears 52 - Al Faizi made a deep bow, almost to the floor 55 - Sez I, a-risin’ up in the democrat, “I’ll git out” 61 - She met me with a sweet smile 68 - Finally, he got to be quarrelsome 75 - Ellick lay drunk in the office 80 - It wuz Ellick Gurley 87 - “Yes, it _wuz_ sunthin’ else; it wuz _you_” 97 - “Save the Sam, it may come in handy in the futer” 102 - With one of his low, reverential bows 112 - As the elder took it he turned pale 125 - I took down my old Atlas 131 - In time to kiss us and clasp our hands in partin’ 139 - Her big blue eyes wuz full of tears 142 - Then took his umbrell and started for the door 147 - We tottered up on deck, two pale, thin figgers 151 - The lord with a pink paper suit on 157 - With a stern look, calculated to wither him 166 - We went in what they call a “jauntin’ car” 171 - Three beautiful lakes 184 - Drinkin’ and tobacco-smokin’ in the little hovel drove ’em out 189 - Drippin’ wet when he come back 201 - Alice stood there, white and tremblin’ 206 - A dark figger a-standin’ up on a little rock 209 - I laid out to talk to Victoria on the subject 217 - Samantha and Ellen Douglas 219 - This immortal pair of lovers 230 - The same furies that pursued the drunken Tam 238 - Edinburgh Castle 250 - The National Covenant signed by the Earl of Sutherland 254 - When Prince Charlie and Flora Macdonald parted 259 - “I could sing to you,” sez he 263 - “When they got dirty, jest wet a towel and clean ’em off” 268 - “I never should think of usin’ it” 274 - Josiah wuz dretful took with it 281 - “What a sensation it would create in Jonesville!” 285 - That sentinul twelve or fourteen hundred years ago 289 - “With the ends of the fingers a-hangin’ down” 294 - Robin Hood 299 - “It don’t pay to tussel with ’em” 301 - Martin sent his card in 307 - Josiah’s home-made waterfall 313 - Her common-sense shoe 319 - A quaint, old-fashioned tarvern 322 - Says he, “I’m a-goin’ back--it is my duty” 328 - Shakespeare’s ghost reading the effusions on the walls of his - house 337 - A great many portraits of Shakespeare 344 - The font in which Shakespeare was baptized 350 - The supper that man eat wuz enormous 353 - “You couldn’t eat that full of porridge” 359 - “The more I see of moats, the more determined I be to have one - round our house” 362 - “I am going to work for the poor” 370 - My tone chilled him to the veins 379 - Martin with his patronizin’ ways 384 - A livin’ poem bound up in a girl’s sweet body 386 - Them letters wuz a stroke of genius 391 - A hull soap-box full 395 - We stood long and silently by the graves of the great dead 401 - An immense chair, the four legs bein’ four animals 407 - “When I’m elected to Congress I’m goin’ to wear my hat the hull - time” 415 - That little dude doctor, with his cane and his eyeglass 421 - “I have had some trouble with my back lately, and I want you to - look at it” 424 - Samantha’s faith cure 427 - “Yes,” sez Josiah, “old Domono probble had his hands full with - her” 442 - “Almost in the shadow of the Bank of England, I found the - greatest want and wretchedness” 455 - Right in front of the tarvern, I have seen with my own eyes as - many as five teams and two open buggies 459 - “Be you any kin of Bildad Henzy, of Jonesville?” 468 - Napoleon’s tooth 472 - Josiah at the London “Zoo” 477 - “Calf-o-lay! I hain’t a calf or a ox!” he shouted 486 - “How stylish I would look” 489 - “I don’t spoze I could ever git to be nigh so graceful as she is” 492 - Josiah, “cultered and travelled,” schemes for Jonesvillian - out-door dinner parties, à la Paris, and how Samantha foresees - the result 500 - There wuz the clothes he wore that he ust to button over that - restless, ambitious heart 505 - With his arms folded, and that old hat of hisen on, and his - inscrutable eyes fixed on the heights 512 - A-wipin’ my face on sech genteel towels 518 - “I believe he’d sell the steelyards that Jestice weighs things in, - if he could git a few cents for ’em” 523 - “No attention paid to rumatiz, or meal times, or corns” 526 - “A woman jest dressin’ herself--she seems all broke up” 537 - I thought more’n likely I should be melted into tears 540 - A-leadin’ Adrian and a-plannin’ sunthin’ with him relatin’ to a - whistle 543 - A hogsit as big as the Jonesville tarvern 553 - We did indeed go slow, but sure; for in two hours’ time we arrove - on the summit 556 - “They have emulative Mas, who are bound that they shan’t be - out-travelled” 561 - Ye-o-lo-leo-leo-leo--the melogious cry of the Alpine shepherds 563 - Listening to the organ’s grand, melancholy voice 566 - I thought considerable about William Tell and his exploits with - Gessler, apples, etc. 568 - Divine realms of melody wuz brung to view by his heavenly vision 579 - “If this smell keeps on, and the dum muskeeters keeps on a-bitin’, - one man will ‘see Venice and die’” 581 - “Next thing I’d know you’d have a inquisition a-goin’ on” 588 - The Tower of Pisa 599 - The Colosseum 602 - “The guides went ahead with flarin’ lights” 607 - Mr. Goldwind, one of Martin’s business rivals 616 - “I have faith that it aches like the old Harry” 623 - I see one of the officials take up my sheep’s-head nightcap 628 - A smile of admiration swep’ over his dark visage 628 - Heavey, rough carts, drawed by an ox and a cow lashed together - by ropes wound round their horns 631 - At my request he hooked up my dress skirt in the back 647 - She knowed me to once--a happy smile curved her pretty lips 653 - The Matador 661 - His victim 661 - How cold his feet must have been cold mornin’s 666 - “I go back to my own country--I have many things to teach my - people--to avoid” 675 - They had sent Philury out, like a dove, on the front doorstep - to meet us 684 - His looks wuz so onbecomin’ to a deacon and a path-master 687 - Sez Martin agin, “I am sick to death of these everlasting - complaints” 698 - He fell down jest like a log at my feet 701 - A faithful creeter with a strong breath, caused by stimulants, - I believe 704 - He busted out into tears and buried his face in his hands 709 - Finis 714 - - - - -SAMANTHA IN EUROPE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -TRAINS OF RETROSPECTION. - - -[Illustration] - -Twilight on the broad ocean! Smooth, wild waste of blue-gray waters -stretchin’ out as fur as the eye could reach on every side. - -In the east a silvery moon hangin’ low and a shinin’ path leadin’ up -to it. In the west Mars a-dazzlin’ bright over a pale pink sky, with -streaks of yeller and crimson a-layin’ stretched acrost it, like bars -put up by angel hands a-fencin’ in their world from ourn. - -Now in a sunset in Jonesville it might seem as if you could put on your -sun-bunnet and stride off over hills and valleys and at las’ reach the -Sunset Land, and peek over the bars and ketch a glimpse of what wuz -beyend. - -It would seem amongst the possibles. - -But here--oh! how fur-off, illimitable, unaproachable, duz that fur-off -glory look! - -And Mars seemed to wink that red eye of hisen at me mockin’ly as I -strained my eyes over the long watery plain, as if to say--“The time -has been when you wuz free to roam round, a-walkin’ off afoot; you may -have gloated over me in your free thoughts and said-- - -“You are fixed and sot up there, while I am free to soar and sail. Now, -haughty female mortal, your wings are clipped--the time has come when -your walkin’ afoot and roamin’ round is stopped.” - -To think that I myself, Josiah Allen’s Wife, should find myself on -the Atlantic a-hangin’ onto the gunwale of the ship with one hand, -and a-lookin’ off over the endless waters below and all round me, -and a-thinkin’ if I should trust myself to step out onto its heavey, -treacherous surface where should I go to, and when, and why! I, -Samantha, who had ever been ust to slippin’ on my sun-bunnet and -runnin’ into Miss Bobbettses, or out into the garden, or out to the -hen-house for eggs, or down into the orchard, or the wood paster for -recreation or cowslips. - -To think that I wuz thus caged up as it were, my restless wings -(speakin’ in metafor) folded in such clost quarters, with no chance (to -foller up the metafor) of floppin’ ’em to any extent. - -Oh! where wuz I? The thought wuz full of or. Why wuz I? This thought -brung on trains of retrospection. - -As I sot in my contracted corner of the aft fore-castle deck, and Night -wuz lettin’ down, gradual, her starry mantilly over me and the seen, -as erst it did over me as I sot in the sweet, restful door-yard at -Jonesville. (Dear seen, shall I ever see thee agin?) - -I will rehearse the facts that led to my takin’ this onpresidented step. - -My pardner is asleep in his narrer bunk, or ruther on one of the -shelves in our cell, that are cushioned, and on which our two forms -nightly repose. - -[Illustration: Asleep in his narrer bunk.] - -He is at rest. The waves are asleep, or pretty nigh asleep, the night -winds are hushed, and all Nater seems to draw in her breath and wait -for me as I tell the tale. - -I will begin, as most fashionable novelists do, with a verse of -poetry---- - - “Backward, turn backward (as fur as Jonesville), Oh Time, - in thy flight-- - Make me (a trusty, short-winded, female historian) jest - for to-night.” - -It wuz now goin’ on three years sence Uncle Philander Smith’s son, -Philander Martin, named after his Pa and his Uncle Martin, writ a -line to me announcin’ his advent into Jonesville. And in speakin’ of -Philander I shall have to go back, kinder sideways, some distance into -the past to describe him. - -Yes, I will have to lead the horse fur back to hitch it on properly to -the wagon of my history, or mebby it would be more proper, under the -circumstances, to say how fur I must row my little personal life-boat -back to hitch it onto the great steamer of my statement, in order that -there shall be direct smooth sailin’ and no meanderin’. - -Wall, with the first paddle of my verbal row-boat, I would state-- - -(And into how many little still side coves and seemin’ly wind-locked -ways my little life-boat must sail on her way back to be jined to the -great steamer, and how I must stay in ’em for some time! It can’t be -helped.) - -Yes, it must have been pretty nigh three years ago that we had our -first letter from P. Martyn Smythe. - -He is my second cousin on my own side. And he sot out from Spoonville -(a neighborin’ hamlet) years ago with lots of ambition and pluck and -energy, and about one dollar and seventy-five cents in money. - -Uncle Philander, his father, had a big family, and died leavin’ him -nothin’ but his good example and some old spectacles and a cane. - -He wuz brung up by his Uncle Martin, a good-natered creeter, but -onfaculized and shiftless. - -Young Martin never loved to be hampered, and after he got old enough -to help his uncle, he didn’t want to be hampered with him, so he -packed up his little knapsack and sot out to seek his fortune, and he -prospered beyend any tellin’, bought some mines, and railroads, and -things, and at last come back East and settled down in a neighborin’ -city, and then got rid of several things that he found hamperin’ to -him. Amongst ’em wuz his old name--now he calls it “Smythe.” - -Yes, he got rid of the good, reliable old Smith name, that has stood -by so many human bein’s even unto the end. And he got rid, too, of his -conscience, the biggest heft of it, and his poor relations. - -For why, indeed, should a Bill or a Tom Smith claim relationship with a -P. Martyn Smythe? - -Why, indeed! He got rid of ’em all in a heap, as it were, a-ignorin’ -“the hull kit and bilein’ of ’em,” as Aunt Debby said. - -“Never seen hide nor hair of any of ’em, from one year’s end to the -other,” sez Aunt Debby. - -As to his conscience, he got rid of that, I spoze, kinder gradual, a -little at a time, till to all human appearance he hadn’t a speck left, -of which more anon. - -But there wuz a little of it left, enough to leven his hull nater and -raise it up, some like hop yeast, only stronger and more spiritual (as -will also be seen anon). - -Wall, he never seemed to know where his cousin, she that wuz Samantha -Smith, lived, and his neck seemed to be made in that way--kinder held -up by his stiff white collar mebby--that it held his head up firm and -immovable, so’s he didn’t see me nor my Josiah when he’d meet him once -in a great while at some quarterly meetin’ or conferences and sech. - -I guess that neck of hisen carried him so straight that he couldn’t -seem to turn it towards the old Smith pew at all. - -And then he wuz dretful near-sighted, too; his eyes wuz affected -dretful curous. - -Uncle Mart Smith, the one P. Martin wuz named after, atted him about -it, for he wuz his own uncle, and dretful shiftless and poor, but a -Christian as fur as he could be with his nateral laziness on him. - -As I say, he partly brung Martin up. A good-natered creeter he wuz. -And one day he walked right up and atted P. Martyn Smythe as to why he -never could see him. - -And P. Martyn sed that it wuz his eyesight; sez he, “I’m dretful -near-sighted.” - -It made it all right with Uncle Martin, but his wife, Aunt Debby, she -sed, “Why can he see bishops and elders so plain?” - -“Wall,” sez Uncle Mart, “it is a curous complaint.” And she sez-- - -“’Tain’t curous a mite; it’s as nateral as ingratitude, and as old as -Pharo.” - -And she and Uncle Mart had some words about it. - -Wall, his eyesight seemed to grow worse and worse so fur as old friends -and relations wuz concerned, till all of a sudden--it wuz after my -third book had shook the world, or I spoze it did; it kinder jarred it -anyway, I guess--wall, what should that man, P. Martyn, do, but write -to me and invite me to the big city where he lived. - -Sez he, “Relations ort to cling closter to each other;” sez he, “Come -and stay a week.” - -I answered his note, cool but friendly. - -And then he writ agin, and asked me to come and stay a month. Agin my -answer wuz Christian, but about as cool as well water. - -And then he writ agin and asked me to come and stay a year with ’em. -And he would be glad, he said, he and his two motherless children, if I -would come and live with ’em always. - -This allusion to the motherless melted me down some, and my reply wuz, -I spoze, about the temperture of milk jest from the cow. - -But I said that Duty and Josiah binded me to my home and Jonesville. - -Wall, the next summer what should P. Martyn do but to write to me that -he and Alice and Adrian, his two children, wuz a-comin’ to Jonesville, -and would we take ’em in for a week? He thought his children needed -fresh air and a little cossetin’. - -Wall, to me, Josiah Allen’s wife, who has brung up almost numberless -lambs and chickens by hand as cossets, this allusion to “cossetin’” -melted me so and warmed up my nater, that my reply wuz about the -temperture of skim milk het for the calves. - -So they come. - -And indeed I said then what I say now, and I’ll defy anybody to dispute -me, that two prettier, winnin’er creeters never lived than them two -children. - -[Illustration: Two prettier, winnin’er creeters never lived than them -two.] - -Alice wuz about sixteen then, and Adrian wuz about five, and wuzn’t -they happy! My hull heart went out to ’em, and mebby it wuz that love -atmosphere that wropped ’em completely round that made ’em grow so -bright and cheerful and healthy. - -There hain’t no atmosphere that is at the same time so inspirin’ and so -restful as the heart atmosphere of love. - -You can always tell ’em that breathe its rare, fine atmosphere by the -radiance in their faces and the lightness of their step. - -I loved them two children dearly. They wuz both as handsome as picters, -Alice fair and slender and sweet as a white day lily, with big, happy -blue eyes, and hair of the same gold color that her mother had had. - -Adrian had long curls of that same wonderful golden hair, and his eyes -wuz big, inspirin’, blue gray, and his lips always seemed to hold a -happy secret. He had that look some way. - -Though what it could be we couldn’t tell, for he talked pretty much all -the time. - -And the questions he asked would more’n fill our old family Bible, -I’m sure, and I thought some of the time that the overflow would fill -Foxe’s “Book of Martyrs.” - -Why, one day we got old Uncle Smedley to mow our lawn while Adrian -wuz there, and I felt sorry that I didn’t put down the questions that -Adrian asked that perfectly deaf man as he trotted along in his little -velvet suit by the side of the lawn mower. - -But then I d’no as I’m sorry, after all, for paper is sometimes skurce, -and I don’t believe in extravagance. - -And how he did love poseys, most of all the English violets! We had -a big bed of ’em, and he always had a bunch of ’em in his little -buttonhole, and be a-pinnin’ ’em to my waist and Alice’s. And he would -have a big bunch in his hand, and jest bury his face in ’em, as if he -wuz tryin’ to take in their deep, sweet perfume through his pores as it -wuz. And always a little, low vase that stood before his plate on the -table would be full of ’em. - -I wondered at it some, but found out that before he wuz born his sweet -Ma had jest sech a passion for ’em, and always had her room full of -’em. And I kinder wondered if, in some occult way, she wuz a-keepin’ -up the acquaintance with her boy by means of that sweet and delicate -language that we can’t spell yet, let alone talkin’. - -I d’no, nor Josiah don’t, but anyway Adrian jest seemed to live on ’em -in a certain way, as if they satisfied some deep hunger and need in his -inmost nater. - -And he would sometimes make the old-fashionedest remarks I ever -hearn, and praise himself up jest as though he wuz somebody else. Not -conceited at all, but jest sincere and honest. - -One day after family prayers, Josiah had been readin’ about the New -Jerusalem, and I spoze Adrian’s curosity wuz rousted up, and sez he, -“Aunt Samantha, where is Heaven? Is it up in the sky, or where is it?” - -[Illustration: “Aunt Samantha, where is Heaven? Is it up in the sky?”] - -And I sez, “Sometimes I have thought, Adrian, it wuz right here all -round us, if we could only see it.” - -“I wonder if I could find it?” sez he, and he peered all round him in -the old-fashionedest way I ever see. - -Sez he, “I spoze my pretty Mamma is there; I guess she wants me -dreadfully sometimes; I am a very bright little boy--I am very -agreeable.” - -“But,” I sez, “that hain’t pretty for you to talk so.” - -“Why, Papa sez I am, and he sez I am his wise little partner, and my -Papa knows everything that wuz ever known--he knows more than any other -man in the world.” - -And I sez to myself, “No, he don’t. He don’t know enough to be jest, -from all I’ve hearn of his doin’s.” - -But I didn’t wonder that Adrian thought as he did, or Alice either, for -if there wuz ever a indulgent and lovin’ father on earth, it wuz Martin -Smith. - -Nothin’ wuz too good for his children. He adored ’em, and tried to be -father and mother both to his motherless boy and girl. And money, so -fur as they wuz concerned, flowed as free as water. - -P. Martyn didn’t stay but a few days this time, but left the children -two weeks and come back for ’em. - -He stayed right to our house, and his eyesight, so fur as the other -relations wuz concerned, wuz jest the same. He rode round considerable -with his children, and writ about five thousand letters, and sent off -and received about the same number of letters and telegrams, and said -and assured us at the end of the three days he wuz there, that “it wuz -so sweet for him to have sech a perfect rest.” - -He didn’t tell us much about what wuz in the letters, though the last -day that he wuz there he got sech a enormous batch of ’em that he daned -to explain the meanin’ of ’em to Josiah and me, for we both had helped -him to carry ’em in. Sez he, “There is no such thing as satisfying the -masses. - -“Now,” sez he, “I’ve built a line of trolley cars, that are the means -of saving no end of time, for my drivers, if they don’t come up to the -swift schedule time I have marked down for them, I discharge them at -once. - -“They are economical, much cleaner and swifter than horses, an -invaluable saving of time. They are convenient, rapid, and cheap. Now -you would think that would satisfy them, but no; because they run -through the most populous streets of the city, and because once in -awhile an accident takes place, what do they want? They want me to add -further to the enormous expense I have already been subjected to, and -buy some fenders to prevent accidents.” - -“Wall, hain’t you goin’ to?” sez I. - -“No,” sez he, “I am not. If I do, they will probably want some sashay -bags to hang up in the cars, and some automatic fans to fan them with -as they ride.” But I had been a-readin’ a sight about the deaths them -swift monsters had caused, and I sez-- - -“Martin, life is dear, and it seems as if every safeguard possible ort -to be throwed round the great public, between ’em and death.” - -“But,” sez he, “it is impudent in them to demand anything further than -what I’ve already done. Horses were always causing accidents.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “when folks are in danger of death, it makes ’em -impudent. Why, Deacon Garvin sassed the minister when he fell into the -pond at a Sunday School picnic, and the minister told him to call on -the Lord in his extremity.” - -He sassed him and yelled out to him, “You dum fool, you, throw me a -board!” - -[Illustration: He sassed him and yelled out, “You dum fool, you, throw -me a board!”] - -Sez I, “Dretful danger makes folks sassy.” - -“Well, I won’t be to the expense of getting them,” sez he. - -Sez I mildly, “You told Josiah Allen and me yesterday that you’d laid -up two millions of dollars sence you had gone into this enterprise. -Now, as a matter of justice, don’t you think that the public who have -paid you two millions of their money have a right to demand these -safeguards to life and limb?” - -He waived off the question. - -“Why,” sez he, “in all the last year there have not been more than -fifty lives lost in our city from these cars, and considering the hosts -that have been carried, considering the convenience, the swiftness, the -rapidity, and etcetera--what is fifty lives?” - -[Illustration: “It depends on whose lives they be.”] - -“Wall,” sez I, “it depends on whose lives they be. Now I know,” sez I, -a-glancin’ at my pardner’s shinin’ bald head a-risin’ up like a full -harvest moon from behind the pages of _The World_-- - -“I know one life that if it went down in darkness under them wheels, -it would make the hull world black and empty. It would take all the -happiness and hope and meanin’ out of this world, and change it into a -funeral gloom.” - -Sez I, “It would darken the world for all who love him.” And sez I, -“Every one of them fifty that have gone down under them death chariots -have left ’em who loved ’em. Hearts have ached and broken as they have -looked at the mangled bodies and the emptiness of life faced ’em.” Sez -I, “Them rollin’ billows of blackness have swept over the livin’ and -the lovin’ every time them cruel wheels have ground a bright human life -to death. - -“They have mostly been children,” sez I, “and think of the anguish -mother hearts have endured, and father love and pride--how it has been -crushed down under the rollin’ wheels of death. - -“Sometimes a father, who wuz the only prop of a family, has gone down. -How cold the world is to ’em when the love that wropped ’em round -has been tore from ’em! Sometimes a mother--what can take the place -of mother love to the little ones left to suffer from hunger, and -nakedness, and ignorance?” - -“You’re imaginative, Cousin Samantha,” said he; but I kep’ right on -onbeknown to me. - -“Who will care for the destitute children left alone in the cold world -with no one to care for ’em and help ’em?” - -“I’ll give ’em some money,” said little Adrian, who’d been leanin’ up -aginst my knee and listenin’ to our talk, with his big, earnest eyes -fixed on our faces. - -“I’ll give ’em the gold piece that papa gave me yesterday.” - -He had gin him a twenty dollar gold piece, for I see it. - -“I’ll give ’em all I’ve got--I’ll work for that poor woman who lost her -little boy--I’ll work for her and help her.” - -“Who’ll work for me?” sez Martin. “You’re to be my partner, my boy; -remember that. You’re my little partner now--half of all I own belongs -to you.” - -“And I will give it all to them,” sez Adrian. - -But Martin went right on--“You are to be president of this company when -I am an old man; you’re to work for me.” - -“But I’ll work for those poor people, papa,” sez Adrian, and as he said -this he looked way off through his father’s face, as he sot by the open -window, to some distance beyend him. And his eyes, jest the color of -that June sky, looked big and luminous. - -“I’ll work for them, papa,” and as he spoke a sudden thrill, some like -electricity, only more riz up like, shot through my soul, a sudden and -deep conviction that he would work for ’em--that he would in some way -redeem the old Smith name from the ojium attachin’ to it now as a owner -of them Herod’s Chariots and a Massacreer of Innocents. But to resoom. - -All the next day Adrian kep’ talkin’ about it, how he wuz goin’ to be -his papa’s pardner, and how he wuz a-goin’ to work for poor folks who -had lost their little children, and wanted so many things. - -And the questions he asked me about ’em, and about poor folks, though -wearisome to the flesh, wuz agreeable to the sperit. - -Wall, Martin called him so much from day to day--“My little partner,” -that we all got into the habit on’t, and called him so through the day. - -And every evenin’ he would come to me and say--“Good-night, Aunt -Samantha, good-bye till mornin’.” - -And I would kiss him earnest and sweet, and say back to him, -“Good-night, little pardner, till mornin’.” - -And after he went home, Josiah and I would talk about him a sight, and -wonder what the little pardner wuz doin’, and how he wuz lookin’ from -day to day. And I would often go into the parlor, where his picter -stood on the top shelf of the what-not, and stand and look dreamily at -it. There he wuz in his little black velvet suit and a big bunch of -English violets pinned on one side. The earnest eyes would look back -at me dretful tender like and good. The mouth that held that wonderful -sweet and sort o’ curous expression, as if he wuz thinkin’ of sunthin’ -beautiful that we didn’t know anything about, would sort o’ smile back -at me. - -And he seemed to be a-sayin’ to me, as he said that day a-lookin’ out -into the clear sky-- - -“I’ll work for them poor people!” - -And I answered back to him out loud once or twice onbeknown to me, and -sez I, “I believe you will, little pardner.” - -And Josiah asked me who I wuz a-talkin’ to. He hollered out from the -kitchen. - -And I sez, “Ahem--ahem,” and kinder coughed. I couldn’t explain to my -pardner jest how I felt, for I didn’t know myself hardly. - -Wall, it run along for some time--Martin a-writin’ to me quite often, -always a-talkin’ about his little pardner and Alice, and how they wuz -a-gittin’ along, and a-invitin’ us to visit ’em. - -And at last there came sech a pressin’ invitation from Alice to come -and see ’em that I had to succumb. - -But little, little did I ever think in my early youth, when I ust -to read about Solomon’s Temple and Sheba’s Splendor, and sing about -Pleasures and Palaces, that I should ever enter in and partake of ’em. - -Why, the house that Martin lived in wuz a sight, a sight--big as the -meetin’-housen at Jonesville and Loontown both put together, and -ornamented with jest so many cubits of glory one way, and jest so many -cubits of grandeur another. Wall, it wuz sunthin’ I never expected -to see on earth, and in another sphere I never sot my mind on seein’ -carpets that your feet sunk down into as they would in a bed of moss -in a cedar swamp, and lofty rooms with stained-glass winders and sech -gildin’s and ornaments overhead, and furniture sech as I never see, and -statutes a-lookin’ pale with joy, to see the lovely picters that wuz -acrost the room from ’em; and more’n twenty servants of different sorts -and grades. - -Why, actually, Josiah and I seemed as much out of place in that seen -of grandeur as two hemlock logs with the bark on ’em at a fashionable -church weddin’. - -And nothin’ but the pure love I felt for them children, and their pure -love for me, made me willin’ to stay there a minute. - -Martin wuz good to us, and dretful glad to have us there to all human -appearance; but Alice and Adrian loved us. - -And I hadn’t been there more’n a few days before I see one reason why -Alice had writ me so earnest to come--she wuz in deep trouble, she -wuz in love, deep in love with a young lawyer, one who writ for the -newspapers, too-- - -A man who had the courage of his convictions, and had writ several -articles about the sufferin’s of the poor and the onjustice of rich -men. And amongst the rest he had writ some cuttin’ but jest articles -about the massacreein’ of children by them trolley cars, and so had got -Martin’s everlastin’ displeasure and hatred. - -The young man, I found out, wuz as good as they make anywhere; a -noble-lookin’ young feller, too, so I hearn. - -Even Martin couldn’t say a word aginst him, for, in the cause of Duty -and Alice, I tackled him on the subject. Sez I, “Hain’t he honest and -manly and upright?” - -And he had to admit that he wuz, that he hadn’t a vice or bad habit, -and wuz smart and enterprisin’. - -I held him right there with my eye till I got an answer. - -“But he is a fool,” sez he. - -Sez I, “Fools don’t generally write sech good sense, Martin.” - -Sez he wrathfully, “I knew your opinions--I expected you’d uphold him -in his ungrateful folly. - -“But he has lost Alice by it,” sez he; “for I never will give my -consent to have him marry her.” - -Sez I, “Then you had never ort to let him come here and have the chance -to win her heart, and now break it, for,” sez I, “you encouraged him at -first, Martin.” - -“I know I did,” sez he--“I thought I had found one honest man, and I -had decided on giving all my business into his hands. It would have -been the making of him,” sez he; “but he has only himself to blame, for -if he had kept still he would have married Alice, but now he shall not.” - -Sez I, “Alice thinks jest as he duz.” - -“What do women know about business?” he snapped out, enough to take my -head off. - -“If wimmen don’t know anything about bizness, Martin, I should think -you’d be glad to know, in case you left Alice, that she and her immense -fortune wuz in the hands of an honest man. - -“And I want you to consent to this marriage,” sez I, “in a suitable -time--when Alice gits old enough.” - -“I won’t consent to it!” sez he--“the writer of them confounded papers -never shall marry my daughter.” - -“Why,” sez I, “there’s nothin’ harsh in the articles.” Sez I, “They’re -only a strong appeal to the pity and justice of ’em who are responsible -for all this danger and horrow!” - -“Well,” sez he, “I’ve made up mind, and I never change it.” - -Sez I, “I d’no whether you will or not.” Sez I, “This is a strange -world, Martin, and folks are made to change their minds sometimes -onbeknown to ’em.” - -Wall, I didn’t stay more’n several days after this, when I returned -to the peaceful precincts of Jonesville and my (sometimes) devoted -pardner, and things resoomed their usual course. - -But every few days I got communications from Martin’s folks. Alice writ -to me sweet letters of affection, wherein I could read between the -lines a sad background of Hope deferred and a achin’ heart. - -And Adrian writ long letters to me, where the spellin’ left much to be -desired, but the good feelin’ and love and confidence in ’em wuz all -the most exactin’ could ask for. - -And occasionally Martin would write a short line of a sort of hurried, -patronizin’ affection, and the writin’ looked so much like ducks’ -tracts that it seemed as if our old drake would have owned up to ’em in -a law suit. - -But Josiah and me would put on our strongest specks, and take the -letter between us, and hold it in every light, and make out the heft on -it. - -[Illustration: Josiah and me put on our strongest specks.] - -Till at last, one notable day, long to be remembered, there come a -letter in Martin’s awful chirography. And when we had studied out its -contents, we looked at each other in a astounded astonishment and a -sort of or. - -“Would I go to Europe with him and his children as his guest?” He -thought Alice seemed to be a little delicate, and mebby the trip would -do her good, and he also thought she needed the company of some good, -practical woman to see to her, and mother her a little. - -That last sentence tugged at my heart strings. - -But my answer went back by next mail-- - -“I wuz afraid of the ocean, and couldn’t leave Josiah.” - -The answer come back by telegraph-- - -“The ocean wuz safer than land, and take Josiah along, too. He -expected he would go.” - -Then I writ back--“I never had been drownded on dry land, and didn’t -believe I should be, and Josiah didn’t feel as though he could leave -the farm.” - -Then Martin telegrafted to Thomas J.-- - -“Arrange matters for father and mother to take trip. Send bill to me. -Alice needs their care. Her health and happiness depend on it.” - -So he got Thomas Jefferson on his side. Thomas J. and Maggie loved -Alice like a sister. But there wuzn’t any bill to send to Martin, for -Thomas J. pinted out the facts that Ury could move right into the house -and take care of everything. And sez he, “The trip and the rest will do -you both good.” - -“But the danger,” sez I. - -And he said, jest like Martin--“Less danger than the land, better rates -of insurance given,” etc., etc., etc. - -And Maggie put in too, and Josiah begun to kinder want to go. - -And we wavered back and forth, until a long letter from Alice, beggin’ -me and her Uncle Josiah to go with her to take care of her, tottled the -balance over on the side of Europe. - -And Josiah and I began to make preperations for a trip abroad. - -Oh my heart! think on’t! - -I announced our decision to Martin in a letter of 9 pages of -foolscap--Josiah writ half of it--describin’ our doubts and delays and -our final reasons for decision. - -And he telegrafted back-- - -“All right--start 14th. Send bill of expense to me.” - -But there wuzn’t no bill sent, as I said--no, indeed! - -I guess we didn’t want nobody to buy clothes for us--no, indeed! - -As for the travellin’ expenses of the trip, seein’ they thought we wuz -necessaries to their comfort, and seein’ he’d invited us, and seein’ -his income wuz about ten thousand dollars an hour, why we laid out to -let him have his way in that. - -It wuzn’t nothin’ that we’d ever thought on, and then, as I told -Josiah, we could even it up some by invitin’ the children to stay all -summer with us next year. - -So the die wuz cast down, and the cloth wuz soon bought for Josiah’s -new European shirts, and my own foreign nightcap and nightgown. - -As for my clothes, by Maggie’s advice and assistance, aided by our two -practical common senses, the work wuz soon completed. - -Maggie said that I must dress better than I usually did on my towers, -for the sake of pleasin’ Martin and Alice. And she and Thomas J. made -me a present of a good black silk dress, and she see to makin’ it, with -one plain waist for common wear, and one dressy waist, very handsome, -with black jet trimmin’ on it for my best. - -A good gray alpacky travellin’ dress, some the color of dust, with -a bunnet of the same color, and a good brown lawn for hot days wuz -enough, and didn’t take up much room. Plenty of good underclothes and a -wool wrapper for the steamer completed my trossow. - -Thomas J. see to it that his Pa had a good-lookin’ suit of black -clothes for his best, and a suit of pepper and salt for every day. - -I also made him 2 new flannel nightcaps. And I myself had two new -nightcaps made. In makin’ ’em, I departed from my usual fashion of -sheep’s-head nightcaps, thinkin’ in case of a panick at sea, and the -glare of publicity a-bein’ throwed onto ’em, a modified sheep’s head -would appear better than clear sheep. - -They wuz gathered slightly in the crown, and had some very nice egin’ -on ’em--7 cents per yard at hullsail--7 and ½ retail. - -It wuz good lace. - -They wuz very becomin’ to my style. - -[Illustration: It wuz very dressy when it wuz done.] - -I also made Josiah a handsome dressin’-gown out of a piece of rep goods -I had in the house. I had laid out to cover a lounge with it, but I -thought under these peculiar circumstances Josiah needed it more’n the -lounge did, and so I made it up for him. I made a cord with two tossels -to tie it with. I twisted the cord out of good red and black woosted -and made the tossels of the same. - -It wuz very dressy when it wuz done. And he would have worn it out -visitin’ if I had encouraged him in it. He wuz highly delighted and -tickled with it. - -But I tutored him that it wuz only to wear in his state-room, and in -case of a panick on deck. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A HEATHEN MISSIONARY. - - -Wall, I wuz a-settin’ in my clean settin’-room on a calm twilight, -engaged in completin’ my preperations--in fact, I wuz jest a-puttin’ -the finishin’ touches on one of Josiah’s nightcaps and mine. - -I put cat stitch round the front of hisen, a sort of a dark red cat. - -When all to once I hearn a knock at the west door. I had thought as I -wuz a-settin’ a-sewin’ what a beautiful sunset it wuz. The west jest -glowed with light that streamed over and lit up the hull sky. All wuz -calm in the east, and a big moon wuz jest risin’ from the back of -Balcom’s Hill. It wuz shaped a good deal like a boat, and I laid down -my sheep’s-head nightcap and set still and watched it, as it seemed -moored off behind the evergreens that stood tall and silent and dark, -as if to guard Jonesville and the world aginst the gold boat that wuz -a-sailin’ in from some onknown harbor. But it come on stiddy, and as if -it had to come. - -I felt queer. - -And jest at that minute I hearn the knock at the west door. - -[Illustration: A dark figger that riz up like a strange picter aginst -the sunset.] - -And I went and opened it, and as I did the west wuz flamin’ so with -light that it most blinded me at first; but when I got my eyesight agin -I see a-standin’ between me and that light a dark figger that riz up -like a strange picter aginst the sunset. - -His back wuz to the light, and his face wuz in the shadder, but I could -see that it wuz dark and eager, with glowin’ eyes that seemed to light -up his dark features, some as the stars light up the sky. - -And he wuz dressed in a strange garb, sech as I never see before, only -to the World’s Fair. Yes, in that singular moment I see the value of -travel. It give me sech a turn that if I hadn’t had the advantage of -seein’ jest such costooms at that place, I should most probble have -swooned away right on my own doorstep. - -He wuz dressed in a long, loose gown of some dark material, and had -a white turban on his head. Who he wuz or where he come from was a -mystery to me. - -But I felt it wuz safe anyway to say, “Good-evenin’,” whoever he wuz or -wherever he came from; he couldn’t object to that. - -So consequently I said it--not a-knowin’ but he would address me back -in Hindoo, or Sanskrit, or Greek, or sunthin’ else paganish and queer. - -But he didn’t; he spoke jest as well as my Thomas Jefferson could, -and when I say that, I say enough, full enough for anybody, only his -voice had a little bit of a foreign axent to it, that put me in mind -some of the strange odor of Maggie’s sandal-wood fan, sunthin’ that -is inherient and stays in it, though it is owned in America, and has -Jonesville wind in it--good, strong wind, as good as my turkey feather -fan ever had. - -Sez he, “Good-evening, madam. Do I address Josiah Allen’s wife?” - -Sez I, “You do.” - -Sez he, “Pardon this intrusion. I come on particular business.” - -Whereupon I asked him to come in, and sot a chair for him. - -I didn’t know whether to ask him to lay off his things or not, not -a-seein’ anything only the dress he had on, and not knowin’ what the -state of his clothes wuz. - -And after a minute’s reflection on it, I dassent venter. - -So I simply sot him a chair and asked him to set. - -He bowed dretful polite, and thanked me, and sot. - -Then there wuz a slight pause ensued and follered on. I wuz some -embarrassed, not knowin’ what subject to introduce. - -Deacon Bobbett had lost his best heifer that day, and most all -Jonesville wuz a-lookin’ for it, but I didn’t know whether it would -interest him or not. - -And Sally Garvin had a young babe. A paper of catnip even then reposed -on the kitchen table a-waitin’ until her husband come back to send it, -but I didn’t know whether that subject would be proper to branch out on -to a man. - -So I sot demute for as much as half a minute. - -And before I could collect myself together and break out in -conversation, he sez in that deep, soft, musical voice of hisen-- - -“Madam, I have come on a strange errand.” - -“Wall,” sez I, in a encouragin’ voice, “I am used to strange -errents--yes, indeed, I am! Why,” sez I, “this very day a woman writ to -me from Minnesota for money to fence in a door-yard, and,” sez I, “Sime -Bentley wuz over bright and early this mornin’ to borrer a settin’ hen. -He had plenty of eggs, but no setters.” - -Sez I in a encouragin’ axent, for I couldn’t help likin’ the creeter, -“I am used to ’em--don’t be afraid.” - -I didn’t know but he wuz after my nightgown pattern, and I looked -clost at his garb; but I see that it wuz fur fuller than mine and sot -different. The long folds hung with a dignity and grace that my best -mull nightgown never had, and if it wuz so, I wuz a-goin’ to tell him -honorable that his pattern went fur ahead of mine in grandeur. - -And then, thinks I, mebby he is a-goin’ to beg for money for a -meetin’-house steeple or sunthin’ in Hindoostan, and I wuz jest -a-makin’ up my mind to tell him that we hadn’t yet quite paid for the -paint that ornamented ourn. And I wuz a-layin’ out to bring in some -Bible and say, “Charity begun on our own steeple.” - -But jest as I wuz a-thinkin’ this he spoke up in that melodious -voice, that somehow put me in mind of palm trees a-risin’ up aginst a -blue-black sky, and pagodas, and oasises, and things. Sez he, “Will you -allow me to tell you a little of my history?” - -I sez, “Yes, indeed! I am jest through with my work.” Sez I frankly, “I -have been finishin’ some nightcaps for my pardner, and I sot the last -stitch to ’em as you come in. I’d love to set still and hear you tell -it.” - -So I sot down in the big arm-chair and folded my arms in a almost -luxurious foldin’, and listened. - -Sez he, “My name is Al Faizi, and I am come from a country far away.” -And he waved his hand towards the east. - -Instinctively I follered his gester, and his eyes, and I see that the -gold boat of the moon had come round the pint, and wuz a-sailin’ up -swift into the clear sky. But a big star shone there, it stood there -motionless, as he went on. - -Sez he, “I have always been a learner, a seeker after truth. When a -small boy I lived with my uncle, who was a learned man, and his wife, -who was an Englishwoman. From her I learned your language. I loved to -study; she had many books. She was the daughter of a missionary, who -died and left her alone in that strange land. My uncle was a convert -to her faith. She married him and was happy. She had many books that -belonged to her father; he was a good man and very learned; he did my -people much good while he lived with them. - -“I learned from those books many things that our own wise men never -taught me, and from them I got a great craving to see this land. I -learned from these books and my aunt’s teachings taught me when I was -so young that truth permeated my being and filled my heart, that this -land was the country favored by God--this land so holy, that it sent -missionaries to teach my people. Then I went to a school taught by -English teachers, but always I searched for truth--I search for God in -mosque and in temple. These books said God is here in this land. So I -come. Many of my people come to this great Fair, I come also with them. - -“But always I seek the great spirit of God I came here to find. I -thought truth and justice would fill your temples, and your homes, and -all your great cities. - -“I come, I watch for this Great Light--I listened for the Great Voice, -I see strange things, but I say nothing, I only think, but I get more -and more perplexed. I ask many people to show me the temple where God -is, to show me the great mosque where Truth and Right dwell, and the -people are blessed by their white shining light, for I thought He -would be in all the customs and ways of this wise people, so good that -they instruct all the rest of the world. I come to learn, to worship, -but I see such strange things, such strange customs. I see cruelties -practised, such as my own people would not think of doing. I keep -silent, I only think--think much. But more and more I wonder, and grow -sad. - -[Illustration: “I don’t love to hear that; that sounds bad.”] - -“I ask many men, preachers, teachers, to show me the place where God -is, the great palace where truth dwells. They take me to many places, -but I do not find the great spirit of Love I seek for. I find in your -big temples altars built up to strange gods.” - -Sez I mildly, “I don’t love to hear that; that sounds bad. I can take -you to one meetin’-house,” sez I, “where we don’t have no Dagon nor -snub-nosed idols to worship,” sez I. - -But even as I spoke my conscience reproved me; for wuz there not -settin’ in the highest place in that meetin’-house a rich man who got -all his money by sellin’ stuff that made brutes of his neighbors? - -What wuz we all a-lookin’ up to, minister and people, but a gold beast! -What wuz that man’s idol but Mammon! - -And then didn’t I remember how the hull meetin’-house had turned aginst -Irene Filkins, who went astray when she wuz nothin’ but a little girl, -a motherless little girl, too? - -Where wuz the great sperit of Love and Charity that said--“Neither do I -condemn thee; go and sin no more”? Wuz God there? - -Didn’t I remember that in this very meetin’-house they got up a fair -to help raise money for some charity connected with it, and one of the -little girls kicked higher than any Bowery girl? Wuz it a-startin’ that -child on the broad road that takes hold on death? Wuz we worshippin’ a -idol of Expediency--doing evil that good might come? - -There wuz poor ones in that very meetin’-house, achin’ hearts sufferin’ -for food and clothin’ almost, and rich, comfortable ones who went by on -the other side and sot in their places and prayed for the poor, with -their cold forms and hungry eyes watchin’ ’em vainly as they prayed, -hopin’ for the help they did not get. - -Wuz we hyppocrites? Did we bow at the altar of selfishness? - -Truly no Eastern idol wuz any more snub-nosed and ugly than this one. - -I wuz overcome with horrow when I thought it all over, and sez I--“I -guess I won’t take you there right away; we’ll think on’t a spell -first.” - -For I happened to think, too, that our good, plain old preacher, Elder -Minkley, wuzn’t a-goin’ to preach there Sunday, anyway, but a famous -sensational preacher, that some of the rich members wanted to call. -Yes, many hed turned away from the good gospel sermons of that man of -God, Elder Minkley, and wanted a change. - -Wuz it a windy, sensational God set up in our pulpit? I felt guilty as -a dog, for I too had criticised that good old Elder’s plain speakin’. - -Al Faizi had sot me to thinkin’, and while I wuz a-meditatin’ his calm -voice went on-- - -“I came to a city not far away; there I saw some words you had -written. I felt that you, too, desired the truth. I have come to ask -you if you have found it--if you have found in this land the place -where Love and Justice reign, and to ask you where it is, that I, too, -may worship there, and teach the truth to my people.” - -I wuz overcome by his simple words, and I bust out onbeknown to me-- - -“I hain’t found it.” Sez I, and onconsciously I used the words of -another--“‘We are all poor creeters,’ but we try to worship the true -God--we try to follow the teachin’s of Him who loved us, and give His -life to us.” - -“The wise man who lived in Galilee and taught the people?” sez he. - -“No,” sez I, “not the wise man, but the Divine One--the God who left -His throne and dwelt with us awhile in the form of the human. We try to -foller His teachings--a good deal of the time we do,” sez I, honestly -and sadly. - -For more and more this strange creeter’s words sunk into my heart, and -made me feel queer--queer as a dog. - -“I have read His words. I loved Him when a boy, I love Him still. I go -into your great churches sacred to His name. I find in one grand church -they say He is there alone, and not in any other. I go into another, -just as great, and they say He is there, and not in the one I first -visited; and then I go to another, and another, and yet another. - -“All have different ways and beliefs. All say God is here within the -narrow walls of this church, and not in the others. Oh! I get so -confused, I know not what to do. How can I, a poor stranger, trace His -footsteps through all these conflicting creeds? I grow sad, and my -heart fills with doubt and darkness. Well I remember His words that I -had pondered in my heart when a boy--‘That they who loved Him should -bear the cross and follow Him,’ and love and care for His poor. In all -these great, beautiful churches I hear sweet music. In some I see grand -pictures, and note the incense floating up toward the Heavens; in some -I see high vaulted roofs, and the light in many glowing colors falls -on the bowed forms of the worshippers. I hear holy words, the voice of -prayer, but I see no crosses borne, and all are rich and grand. I go -down in the low places. I see the poor toiling on unpitied and uncared -for. I see these rich people worship in the churches one day, and -pray--‘Grant us mercy as we are merciful to others.’ - -“And then the next day they put burdens on the poor, so hard that they -can hardly bear them, the poor, starving, dying, herded together like -animals, in wretched places unfit for dumb creatures. - -“And ever the rich despise the poor, and the poor curse the rich--both -bitter against each other, even unto death. - -“I find no God of Love in this. - -“I go into your great halls where laws are made--I see the wise men -making laws to bind the weak and tempted with iron chains--laws to help -bad men lead lives of impurity--laws to make legal crimes that your -Holy Book says renders one forever unfit for Heaven. I find no God of -Justice in this.” - -“No,” sez I, “He hain’t nigh ’em, and never wuz!” - -“Well then,” sez he, “why do they not find out the way of truth -themselves before they try to teach other people?” - -“The land knows!” sez I; “I don’t.” - -“Some of your teachers do much good,” sez he; “they are good, and teach -some of my people good doctrines. But why ever are they permitted by -your government to bring ways and habits into our land that cover it -with ruin? - -“I was walking once with my own relation, Hadijah, unconverted, and we -found one of our people lying drunken by the wayside, with bottles of -American whiskey lying by his side. ‘Boston’ was marked on them, a -city, I find, that considers itself the centre of goodness and lofty -thought. The bottles were empty. Hadijah says to me--‘That man is a -Christian.’ - -[Illustration: “‘That man is a Christian.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘Because -he is drunk.’”] - -“I said--‘No, I think not.’ - -“‘Yes he is,’ said he. - -“‘How do you know it?’ said I. - -“‘Because he is drunk.’ Hadijah, not being yet converted, and judging -from appearances and from the evidences of his eyesight, associated -the ideas and thought that in some way drunkenness was an evidence of -Christianity. That belief is largely shared by all heathen people. - -“And then I open your Holy Book and find it written, ‘No drunkard shall -inherit eternal life,’ and I say to myself, What does it mean that -these holy people over the seas, who try so hard to convert us, should -send whiskey, and Bibles, and missionaries to us all packed in one -great ship?” - -Sez I--“The nation don’t mean to do it.” Sez I, “It don’t want to do -any sech harm.” - -“But I hear of the great power of this nation, could it not prevent it? -If it could not prevent it, it must be a weak government indeed. And -if truly this great country is so weak and so wicked as to set snares -for the heathens--trying to lead them into paths that end in eternal -ruin--I think why not keep their missionaries in their own land? They -must need them even more than we do.” - -Sez I--“Don’t talk so, poor creeter, don’t talk so. Missionaries go out -to your land fired with the deathless zeal to save souls--to bring the -knowledge of the Christ to all the world.” - -“But if they bring the knowledge in the way I speak of, so the heathen -honestly believes drunkenness is the sign of Christianity, is it not -making a mockery of what they profess to teach?” - -I wuz dumbfoundered. I didn’t know how to frame a reply, and so I sot -onframed, as you may say. - -“I heard the missionaries say, and I read it in your Holy Book, that -the liar shall have his portion in the lake that burns forever. The -same curses are on them that steal and on them that commit adultery. - -“I thought the country that sends these missionaries, rebuking these -sins so sharply--I thought their country must be pure and peaceable and -holy in its ways. I come here, as I say, seeking the Great Light to -guide me. I come here to hear the Great Voice, so I could go back and -carry its teachings to our own people. For I thought there must be some -mistake, and that the lessons failed in some way to carry the idea of -your great government. So I come, I study; and I find that not only -was your great government willing to have my poor people enslaved by -the drink habit, but it was a partaker in it. It sent over the accursed -whiskey and brandy and took a portion of the pay--a portion of the -money spent by my poor people for making themselves unfit for earth, -and shutting them forever out of Heaven. - -“Again, this law that ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery,’ that stands out -so plain in the Holy Book, that divorce is only permitted for this one -cause, I find this great government, which by its laws breaks even the -holy marriage bonds by the committing of this sin--I find that this -government makes this sin easy and convenient to commit. It grants -licenses to make it lawful and right. - -“When I get here and study I see such strange things. Forevermore I -wonder, and forevermore I say--Why are not missionaries sent to this -people, who do such things? - -“And I, even I, so weak as I am and so ignorant, but fired as I am by -the love of Christ Jesus--I say to myself, ‘I will tell this people of -their sins. I will try to bring them to a knowledge of the pure and -holy religion of Christ.’” - -“You come as a missionary, then?” sez I, a-bustin’ out onbeknown to -me. “Often and often I have wanted a heathen to come over and try to -convert Uncle Sam--poor old creeter, a-wadin’ in sin up to his old knee -jints and over ’em,” sez I. - -[Illustration: “Uncle Sam a-wadin’ in sin up to his old knee jints.”] - -“Uncle Sam?” sez he; “I know him not. I meant your great people; I do -not speak of one alone.” - -“I know,” sez I; “that is what we call our Goverment when we are on -intimate terms with it.” - -“And,” sez I, “you little know what that old man has been through. He -wants to do right--he honestly duz; but you know jest how it is--how -mistaken counsellors darken wisdom and confound jedgment.” - -But the sweet, melodious voice went on-- - -“Your missionaries preach loud to my people against the sins of -stealing and gambling. - -“But I find that in this country great places are fitted up for -gambling and theft.” - -Truly he spoke plain, but then I d’no as I could blame him. - -“In these places of theft and gambling, called your stock exchanges, I -find that you have people called brokers, and some wild animals called -bulls and bears, though for what purpose they are kept I know not, -unless it is that they are trained for the Arena. I know not yet all -your customs. - -“But this I know, that your brokers gamble and steal from the -people--sometimes millions in one day. Which money, taken from the -common people all over this country, is divided by these brokers -amongst a few rich men. Perhaps then the game of bulls and bears, -fighting each other for their amusement, begins. I know not yet all -your ways. - -[Illustration: THE GAME OF BULLS AND BEARS.] - -“But I know that in one day five million bushels of wheat were bought -and sold when there was no wheat in sight--when even during that whole -year the crop amounted to only two hundred and eighty millions. There -were more than two million, two hundred thousand bushels of wheat -bought and paid for that never grew--that were not ever in the world. - -“As I saw this, oh! how my heart burned to teach this poor sinful -people the morality that our own people enjoy. - -“For never were there such sins committed in our country. - -“I find your rich men controlling the market--holding back the bread -that the poor hungered and starved for, putting burdens on them more -grievous than they could bear. These rich men, sitting with their soft, -white hands, and forms that never ached with labor, putting such high -prices on grain and corn that the poor could not buy to eat--these -rich men prayed in the morning (for they often go through the forms of -the holy religion)--they prayed, ‘Give us this day our daily bread,’ -and then made it their first business to keep people from having that -prayer answered to them. - -“They prayed, ‘Lead us not into temptation,’ and then deliberately -made circumstances that they knew would lead countless poor into -temptation--temptation of theft--temptation of selling Purity and -Morality for bread to sustain life.” - -Sez I, a-groanin’ out loud and a-sithin’ frequent-- - -“I can’t bear to hear sech talk, it kills me almost; and,” sez I -honestly, “there is so much truth in it that it cuts me like a knife.” - -Sez he, a-goin’ on, not mindin’ my words--“I felt that I must warn this -people of its sins. I must tell them of what was done once in one of -our own countries,” sez he, a-wavin’ his hand in a impressive gester -towards our east door-- - -“In one of our countries the authorities learned that stock exchanges -were being formed at Osaka, Yokohama, and Koba. - -“The police, all wearing disguises, went at once to the exchanges -and mingled with the crowd. When all was ready a sign was given, the -police took possession of the exchanges and all the books and papers, -the doors were locked and the prisoners secured. Over seven hundred -were put in prison, the offence being put down--‘Speculation in -margins.’ - -“I yearn to tell this great people of the way of our countries, so that -they may follow them.” - -“A heathen a-comin’ here as a missionary!” sez I, a-thinkin’ out loud, -onbeknown to me. “Wall, it is all right.” Sez I, “It’s jest what the -country needs.” - -But before I could say anythin’ further, at that very minute my beloved -pardner come in. - -He paused with a look of utter amazement. He stood motionless and held -complete silence and two pails of milk. - -But I advanced onwards and relieved him of his embarrassment and one -pail of milk, and introduced Al Faizi. Al Faizi riz up to once and made -a deep bow, almost to the floor; but my poor Josiah, with a look of -bewilderment pitiful to witness, and after standin’ for a brief time -and not speakin’ a word, sez he-- - -[Illustration: Al Faizi made a deep bow, almost to the floor.] - -“I guess, Samantha, I will go out to the sink and wash my hands.” - -Truly, it wuz enough to surprise any man, to leave a pardner with no -companion but a sheep’s-head nightcap, partly finished, and come back -in a few minutes and see her a-keepin’ company with a heathen, clothed -in a long robe and turban. - -Wall, Josiah asked me out into the kitchen for a explanation, which I -gin to him with a few words and a clean towel, and then sez I--“We must -ask him to stay all night.” - -And he sez, “I d’no what we want of that strange-lookin’ creeter -a-hangin’ round here.” - -And I sez, “I believe he is sent by Heaven to instruct us heathens.” - -And Josiah said that if he wuz sent from Heaven he would most probble -have wings. - -He didn’t want him to stay, I could see that, and he spoke as if he wuz -on intimate terms with angels, a perfect conoozer in ’em. - -But I sez, “Not all of Heaven’s angels have wings, Josiah Allen, not -yet; but,” sez I, “they are probble a-growin’ the snowy feathers on ’em -onbeknown to ’em.” - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -OFF INTO SIDE PATHS. - - -Wall, the upshot of the matter wuz Al Faizi stayed right there for -weeks. He seemed to have plenty of money, and I d’no what arrangement -he and Josiah did make about his board, but I know that Josiah acted -after that interview with him in the back yard real clever to him, and -didn’t say a word more aginst the idee of his not bein’ there. - -(Josiah is clost.) - -As for me, I would have scorned to have took a cent from him, feelin’ -that I got more’n my pay out of his noble but strange conversation. - -But Josiah is the head of the family (or he calls himself so). - -And mebby he is some of the time. - -But suffice it to say, Al Faizi jest stayed and made it his home with -us, and peered round, and took journeys, and tried to find out things -about our laws and customs. - -Thomas Jefferson loved to talk with him the best that ever wuz. And -Al Faizi would make excursions to different places round, a-walkin’ -mostly, a-seein’ how the people lived, and a-watchin’ their manners -and customs, and in writin’ down lots of things in some books he had -with him, takin’ notes, I spozed, and learnin’ all he could. One book -that he used to carry round with him and make notes in wuz as queer a -lookin’ book as I ever see. - -With sunthin’ on the cover that looked some like a cross and some like -a star. - -There wuz some precious stuns on it that flashed. If it wuz held up -in some lights it looked like a cross, and then agin the light would -fall on’t and make it look like a star. And the gleamin’ stuns would -sparkle and flash out sometimes like a sharp sword, and anon soft, like -a lambient light. - -It wuz a queer-lookin’ book; and he said, when I atted him about it, -that he brought it from a country fur away. - -And agin he made that gester towards the East, that might mean -Loontown, and might mean Ingy and Hindoosten--and sech. - -After that first talk with me, in which he seemed to open his heart, -and tell what wuz in his mind, as you may say, about our country, he -didn’t seem to talk so very much. - -He seemed to be one of the kind who do up their talkin’ all to one -time, as it were, and git through with it. - -Of course he asked questions a sight, for he seemed to want to find out -all he could. And he would anon or oftener make a remark, but to talk -diffuse and at length, he hardly ever did. But he took down lots of -notes in that little book, for I see him. - -I enjoyed havin’ him there dretful well, and done well by him in -cookin’, etcetery and etcetery. - -But the excitement when he first walked into the Jonesville -meetin’-house with Josiah and me wuz nearly rampant. I felt queer and -kinder sheepish, to be walkin’ out with a man with a long dress, and -turban on, and sandals. And I kinder meached along, and wuz glad to git -to our pew and set down as quick as I could. But Josiah looked round -him with a dignified and almost supercilious mean. He felt hauty, and -acted so, to think that we had a heathen with us and that the other -members of the meetin’-house didn’t have one. - -But if I felt meachin’ over one heathen, or, that is, if I felt -embarrassed a-showin’ him off before the bretheren and sistern, what -would I felt if Josiah had had his way about comin’ to meetin’ that day? - -Little did them bretheren and sistern know what I’d been through that -mornin’. - -Josiah wore his gay dressin’-gown down to breakfast, which I bore -well, although it wuz strange--strange to have two men with dresses on -a-settin’ on each side of me to the table--I who had always been ust to -plain vests and pantaloons and coats on the more opposite sex. - -But I bore up under it well, and didn’t say nothin’ aginst it, and -poured out the coffee and passed the buckwheat cakes and briled chicken -and etc. with a calm face. - -But when church-time come, and Ury brought the mair and democrat up -to the door, and I got up on to the back seat, when I turned and see -Josiah Allen come out with that rep dressin’-gown on, trimmed with -bright red, and them bright tossels a-hangin’ down in front, and a plug -hat on, you could have knocked me down with a pin feather. - -And sez I sternly, “What duz this mean, Josiah Allen?” - -Sez he, “I am a-goin’ to wear this to meetin’, Samantha.” - -“To meetin’?” sez I almost mekanically. - -“Yes,” sez he; “I am a-doin’ it out of compliments to Fazer; he would -feel queer to be the only man there with a dress on, and so I thought I -would keep him company; and,” sez he, a-fingerin’ the tossels lovin’ly, -“this costoom is very dressy and becomin’ to me, and I’d jest as leave -as not let old Bobbett and Deacon Garvin see me appearin’ in it,” sez -he. - -“Do you go and take that off this minute, Josiah Allen! Why, they’d -call you a idiot and as crazy as a loon!” - -Sez he, a-puttin’ his right foot forward and standin’ braced up on it, -sez he, “I shall wear this dress to meetin’ to-day!” - -Sez I, “You won’t wear it, Josiah Allen!” - -Sez he, “You know you are always lecturin’ me on bein’ polite. You know -you told me a story about a woman who broke a china teacup a purpose -because one of her visitors happened to break hern. You praised her up -to me; and now I am actin’ out of almost pure politeness, and you want -to break it up, but you can’t,” sez he, and he proceeded to git into -the democrat. - -Ury wuz a-standin’ with his hands on his sides, convulsed with -laughter, and even the mair seemed to recognize sunthin’ strange, for -she whinnered loudly. - -Sez I in frigid axents, “Even the old mair is a whinnerin’, she is so -disgusted with your doin’s, Josiah Allen.” - -“The old mair is whinnerin’ for the colt!” sez he, and agin he put his -foot on the lowest step. - -[Illustration: Sez I, a-risin’ up in the democrat, “I’ll git out.”] - -“Wall,” sez I, a-risin’ up in the democrat, with dignity, “I’ll git out -and stay to home. I will not go to church and see my pardner took up -for wearin’ female’s clothin’.” - -He paused with his foot on the step, and a shade of doubt swept over -his liniment. - -“Do you spoze they would?” sez he. - -“Of course they would!” sez I; “twilight would see you a-moulderin’ in -a cell in Loontown.” - -“I couldn’t moulder much in half a day!” sez he. - -But I see that I wuz about to conquer. He paused a minute in deep -thought, and then he turned away; but as he went up the steps slowly, -I hearn him say--“Dum it all, I never try to show off in politeness or -anything but what sunthin’ breaks it up!” - -But anon he come down clothed in his good honorable black kerseymeer -suit, and Al Faizi soon follered him in his Oriental garb, and we -proceeded to meetin’. - -As I say, the excitement wuz nearly rampant as we went in. And I spoze -nothin’ hendered the female wimmen and men from bein’ fairly prostrated -and overcome by their feelin’s, only this fact, that the winter -before a Hindoo in full costoom had lectured before the Jonesville -meetin’-house, so that memory kinder broke the blow some. And then some -on ’em had been to the World’s Fair, and seen quantities of heathens -and sech there. - -So no casuality wuz reported, though feather fans wuz waved wildly, and -more caraway wuz consoomed, I dare presoom to say, than would have been -in a month of Sundays in ordinary times. - -But while the wonder and curosity waxed rampant all round, Al Faizi sot -silent and motionless as the dead, with his soft, brilliant eyes fixed -on the minister’s face, eager to ketch every word that fell from his -lips--a-tryin’ to hear the echo of the Great Voice speak to him through -the minister’s words, so I honestly believe. - -For I think that a honester, sincerer, well-meanin’er creeter never -lived and breathed than he wuz; and as days went on I see nothin’ to -break up my opinion of him. - -Politer he wuz than any female, or minister, I ever see fur or near. -Afraid of makin’ trouble to a marked extent, eager and anxious to learn -everything he could about everything--all our laws, and customs, and -habits, and ways of thinkin’--and tellin’ his views in a simple way of -honest frankness, that almost took my breath away--anxious to learn, -and anxious to teach what he knew of the truth. - -Though, as I said, after that first bust of talk with me he seemed -inclined to not talk so much, but learn all he could. It wuz as if he -had his say out in that first interview. Dretful interestin’ creeter to -have round, he wuz--sech a contrast to the inhabitants of Jonesville, -Deacon Garvin and the Dankses, etc. - -He didn’t stay to our house all the time, as I said, but would take -pilgrimages round and come back, and make it his home there. - -Wall, it wuz jest about this time that a contoggler come to our -house to contoggle a little for me. I wanted some skirts, and some -underwaists, and some of Josiah’s old clothes contoggled. - -You know, it stood to reason that we couldn’t have all new things for -our voyage, and so I had to have some of our old clothes fixed up. You -see, things will git kinder run down once in awhile--holes and rips in -dresses, trimmin’ offen mantillys, tabs to new line, and pantaloons to -hem over round the bottom, and vests to line new, and backs to put into -’em, and etcetery and etcetery. - -And, then, you’ll outgrow some of your things, and have to let ’em -out; or else they’ll outgrow you, and you’ll have to take ’em in, or -sunthin’. - -Sech cases as these don’t call for a dressmaker or a tailoress. No, at -sech times a contoggler is needed. And I’ve made a stiddy practice for -years of hirin’ a woman to come to the house every little while for a -day or two at a time, and have my clothes and Josiah’s all contoggled -up good. - -This contoggler I had now wuz a old friend of mine, who had made it her -home with me for some time in the past, and now bein’ a-keepin’ house -happy not fur away, had sech a warm feelin’ for me in her heart, that -she always come and contoggled for me when I needed a contoggler. - -She had a dretful interestin’ story. Mebby you’d like to hear it? - -I hate to have a woman meander off into side paths too much, but if the -public are real sot and determined on hearin’ me rehearse her history, -why I will do it. For it is ever my desire to please. - -It must be now about three years sence I had my first interview with -my contoggler. And I see about the first minute that she wuz a likely -creeter--I could see it in her face. - -She wuz a perfect stranger to me, though she had lived in Jonesville -some five months prior and before I see her. - -And Maggie, my son’s, Thomas Jefferson’s, wife, hearn of her through -her mother’s second cousin’s wife’s sister, Miss Lemuel Ikey. And Miss -Ikey said that she seemed to be one of the best wimmen she ever laid -eyes on, and that it would be a real charity to give her work, as she -wuz a stranger in the place, without much of anything to git along -with, and seemed to be a deep mourner about sunthin’. Though what it -wuz she didn’t know, for ever sence she had come to Jonesville she had -made a stiddy practice of mindin’ her own bizness and workin’ when she -got work. - -She had come to Jonesville kinder sudden like, and she had hired her -board to Miss Lemuel Ikey’s son’s widow, who kep’ a small--a very small -boardin’-house, bein’ put to it for things herself though, likely. - -I told Maggie to ask her mother to ask her second cousin’s wife to ask -her sister, Miss Lemuel Ikey, to ask her son’s wife what the young -woman could do. - -And the word come back to me straight, or as straight as could be -expected, comin’ through five wimmen who lived on different roads. - -“That she wuzn’t a dressmaker, or a mantilly maker, or a tailoress. But -she stood ready to do what she could, and needed work dretfully, and -would be awful thankful for it.” - -Then feelin’ deeply sorry for her, and wantin’ to befriend her, I sent -word back in the same way--“To know if she could wash, or iron, or do -fancy cookin’. Or could she make hard or soft soap? Or feather flowers? -Or knit striped mittens? Or pick geese? Or paint on plaks? Or do -paperin’?” - -And the answer come back, meanderin’ along through the five--“That she -wuzn’t strong enough, or didn’t know how to do any one of these, but -she stood ready to do all she could do, and needed work the worst kind.” - -Then I tackled the matter myself, as I might better have done in the -first place, and went over to see her, bein’ willin’ to give her -help in the best way any one can give it, by helpin’ folks to help -themselves. - -I went over quite early in the mornin’, bein’ on my way for a all-day’s -visit to Tirzah Ann’s. - -But I found the woman up and dressed up slick, or as slick as she could -be with sech old clothes on. - -And I liked her the minute I laid eyes on her. - -Her face, though not over than above handsome, wuz sweet-lookin’, the -sweetness a-shinin’ out through her big, sad eyes, like the light in -the western skies a-shinin’ out through a rift in heavy clouds. - -Very pale complected she wuz, though I couldn’t tell whether the -paleness wuz caused by trouble, or whether she wuz made so. And the -same with her delicate little figger. I didn’t know whether that -frajile appearance wuz nateral, or whether Grief had tackled her with -his cold, heavy chisel, and had wasted the little figger until it -looked more like a child’s than a woman’s. - -And in her pretty brown hair, that kinder waved round her white -forward, wuz a good many white threads. - -Of course I couldn’t tell but what white hair run through her -family--it duz in some. And I had hearn it said that white hair in -the young wuz a sign of early piety, and of course I couldn’t set up -aginst that idee in my mind. - -But them white hairs over her pale young face looked to me as if they -wuz made by Sorrow’s frosty hand, that had rested down too heavy on her -young head. - -She met me with a sweet smile, but a dretful sad one, too, when Miss -Ikey introduced me. - -[Illustration: She met me with a sweet smile.] - -But when I told my errent she brightened up some. But after settin’ -down with her for more’n a quarter of a hour, a-questionin’ her in as -delicate a way as I could and get at the truth, I found that every -single thing that she could do wuz to contoggle. - -So I hired her as a contoggler, and took her home with me that night on -my way home from Tirzah Ann’s as sech, and kep’ her there three weeks -right along. - -I see plain that she could do that sort of work by the first look that -I cast onto her dress, which wuz black, and old and rusty, but all -contoggled up good, mended neat and smooth, and so I see, when she got -ready to go with me, wuz her mantilly, and her bunnet; both on ’em wuz -old and worn, but both on ’em showed plain signs of contogglin’. - -She wuz a pitiful-lookin’ little creeter under her black bunnet, and -pitiful-lookin’ when the bunnet wuz hung up in our front bedroom, and -she kep’ on bein’ so from day to day, as pale and delicate-lookin’ as a -posey that has growed in the shade--the deep shade. - -And though she kep’ to work good, and didn’t complain, I see from day -to day the mark that Sufferin’ writes on the forwards of them that -pass through the valleys and dark places where She dwells. (I don’t -know whether Sufferin’ ort to be depictered as a male or a female, but -kinder think that it is a She.) - -But to resoom. I didn’t say nothin’ to make her think I pitied her, or -anything, only kep’ a cheerful face and nourishin’ provisions before -her from day to day, and not too much hard work. - -I thought I’d love to see her little peekéd face git a little mite of -color in it, and her sad blue eyes a brighter, happier look. - -But I couldn’t. She would work faithful--contoggle as I have never seen -any livin’ woman contoggle, much as I have witnessed contogglin’. - -And I don’t mean any disrespect to other contogglers I have had when -I say this--no, they did the best they could. But Miss Clark (that -wuz the name she gin--Annie Clark), she had a nateral gift in this -direction. - -She worked as stiddy as a clock, and as patient, and patienter, for -that will bust out and strike every now and then. But she sot resigned, -and meek, and still over rents and jagged holes in garments, and rainy -days and everything. - -Calm in thunder storms, and calm in sunshine, and sad, sad as death -through ’em all, and most as still. - -And I sot demute and see it go on as long as I could, a-feelin’ that -yearnin’ sort of pity for her that we can’t help feelin’ for all dumb -creeters when they are in pain, deeper than we feel for talkative -agony--yes, I always feel a deeper pity and a more pitiful one for -sech, and can’t help it. - -And so one day, when I wuz a-settin’ at my knittin’ in the -settin’-room, and she a-settin’ by me sad and still, a-contogglin’ on a -summer coat of my Josiah’s, I watched the patient, white face and the -slim, patient, white fingers a-workin’ on patiently, and I stood it as -long as I could; and then I spoke out kinder sudden, being took, as it -were, by the side of myself, and almost spoke my thoughts out loud, -onbeknown to me, and sez I: - -“My dear!” (She wuzn’t more’n twenty-two at the outside.) - -“My dear! I wish you would tell me what makes you so unhappy; I’d love -to help you if I could.” - -She dropped her work, looked up in my face sort o’ wonderin’, yet -searchin’. - -I guess that she see that I wuz sincere, and that I pitied her -dretfully. Her lips begun to tremble. She dropped her work down onto -the floor, and come and knelt right down by me and put her head in my -lap and busted out a-cryin’. - -You know the deeper the water is, and the thicker the ice closes over -it, the greater the upheaval and overflow when the ice breaks up. - -She sobbed and she sobbed; and I smoothed back her hair, and kinder -patted her head, and babied her, and let her cry all she wanted to. - -My gingham apron wuz new, but it wuz fast color and would wash, and I -felt that the tears would do her good. - -I myself didn’t cry, though the tears run down my face some. But I -thought I wouldn’t give way and cry. - -And this, the follerin’, is the story, told short by me, and terse, -terser than she told it, fur. For her sobs and tears and her anguished -looks all punctuated it, and lengthened it out, and my little groans -and sithes, which I groaned and sithed entirely onbeknown to myself. - -But anyway it wuz a pitiful story. - -She had at a early age fell in love voyalent with a young man, and he -visey versey and the same. They wuz dretful in love with each other, as -fur as I could make out, and both on ’em likely and well meanin’, and -well behaved with one exception. - -He drinked some. But she thought, as so many female wimmen do, that he -would stop it when they wuz married. - -Oh! that high rock that looms up in front of prospective brides, and on -which they hit their heads and their hearts, and are so oft destroyed. - -They imagine that the marriage ceremony is a-goin’ in some strange way -to strike in and make over all the faults and vices of their young -pardners and turn ’em into virtues. - -Curous, curous, that they should think so, but they do, and I spoze -they will keep on a-thinkin’ so. Mebby it is some of the visions that -come in the first delerium of love, and they are kinder crazy like for -a spell. But tenny rate they most always have this idee, specially if -love, like the measles, breaks out in ’em hard, and they have it in the -old-fashioned way. - -Wall, as I wuz a-sayin’, and to resoom and proceed. - -Annie thought he would stop drinkin’ after they wuz married. He said -he would. And he did for quite a spell. And they wuz as happy as if -they had rented a part of the Garden of Eden, and wuz a-workin’ it on -shares. - -Then his brother-in-law moved into the place, and opened a cider-mill -and a saloon--manafactered and sold cider brandy, furnished all the -saloons round him with it, took it off by the load on Saturdays, and -kep’ his saloon wide open, so’s all the boys and men in the vicinity -could have the hull of Sunday to git crazy drunk in, while he wuz -a-passin’ round the contribution-box in the meetin’-house. - -For he wuz a strict church-goer, the brother-in-law wuz, and felt that -he wuz a sample to foller. - -Wall, Ellick Gurley follered him--follered him to his sorrer. The -brother-in-law employed him in his soul slaughter-house--for so I can’t -help callin’ the bizness of drunkard-makin’. I can’t help it, and I -don’t want to help it. - -And so, under his influence, Ellick Gurley wuz led down the soft, -slippery pathway of cider drunkenness, with the holler images of Safety -and old Custom a-standin’ up on the stairway a-lightin’ him down it. - -Ellick first neglected his work, while his face turned first a pink, -and then a bloated, purplish red. - -Then he begun to be cross to his wife and abusive to little Rob, the -beautiful little angel that had flown to them out of the sweet shadows -of Eden, where they had dwelt the first married years of their life. - -Finally, he got to be quarrelsome. Annie wuz afraid of him. And all -of his money and all of hern went to buy that cider brandy (it makes -the ugliest, most dangerous kind of a drunk, they say, of any kind of -liquor, and I believe it from what I have seen myself, and from what -Annie told me of her husband’s treatment of her and little Rob). - -[Illustration: Finally, he got to be quarrelsome.] - -And at last she begun to suffer for food and clothin’ for herself and -the child. - -And as the drink demon riz up in Ellick’s crazy brain, and grew more -clamorous in its demands, and he weaker to contend aginst it, Ellick -sold all of the household stuff he could git holt of to appease this -dretful power that had got holt of him, body and soul. - -Annie took in all the work she could do, did washin’ for the neighbors, -who ust to envy her her happiness and prosperity--rubbed and hung out -the heavy garments with tremblin’ fingers--sewed with her achin’ head -a-bendin’ over the long seams, and her tear-filled eyes dimmed with the -pain of unavailin’ agony. - -But heartaches and abuse made her weak form weaker and weaker, and then -there wuz but little work to do, if she had been as strong as Sampson; -so, bein’ fairly drove to it by Agony, and Fear, and Starvation, them -three furies a-drivin’ her, as you may say, harnessed up three abreast -behind her, a-goadin’ her weak, cowerin’ form with their fire-tipped -lashes, she appealed to the brother-in-law. - -She told him, what he knew before, that she and little Robbie were -starvin’, and she wuz afraid of her life, and she urged him to not sell -Ellick any more of the poison that wuz a-destroyin’ him. - -He wuz to meetin’ when she went. He wuz dretful particular about his -religious observances. - -No Hindoos wuz ever stricter about burnin’ their widders on the funeral -pyre of the departed than he wuz a-follerin’ up what he called his -religion. - -(Religion, sweet, pure sperit, how could she stand it, to have him -a-burnin’ his incense in front of her? But, then, she has had to stand -a good deal in this old world, and has to yet.) - -But, as I wuz a-sayin’, there never wuz a Pharisee in old or modern -times that went ahead of him in cleanin’ the outside of his platters -and religious deep dishes, and makin’ broad the border of his -phylakricy. Why, his phylakricy wuz broader and deeper than you have -any idee on. - -But inside of his platters and deep dishes wuz dead men’s bones! - -More’n one quarrel, riz up out of his accursed brandy, had led to -bloodshed, besides achin’ and broken hearts without number, and ruined -souls and lives. - -And his phylakricy ort to be broad, for it had to be used as a pall -time and agin, and it covered, so he thought, a multitude of sins. - -Yes, indeed! - -Wall, as I say, he wuz to a church meetin’. There wuz a-goin’ to be a -Association of Religious Bodies for the Amelioration of Human Woe. And -he wuz anxious to be sent as a delegate, so he hung on to the last, and -wuz appinted. - -But finally he got home, and Annie tackled him on the subject nearest -her heart, talked to him with tears in her eyes and a voice tremblin’ -with the anguished beatin’s of her poor, achin’ heart. - -She begged him to not sell her husband any more drink, begged him for -her sake and for the sake of little Rob. For she knew that if the man -had a tender place in his heart it wuz for his little nephew. He did -love him deeply, or as deep as a man like this could love anything -above his money and his reputation as a religious leader. - -But he wouldn’t promise, and he acted dretful high-headed and hateful -to her to cover up his meanness, for he felt that if he should refuse -to sell his stuff, it would not only stop his money-makin’, but it -would be like ownin’ up that he had been in the wrong. - -And he plumed himself, and carried the idee that cider wuz a healthful -beverage, and very strengthenin’ in janders and sech. Why, he carried -the idee to the world, and mebby in the first place he did to his own -soul, so blindin’ is the spectacles of selfishness that he wore, that -he wuz a-doin’ a charitable work a-keepin’ that old cider-mill and -saloon a-goin’. - -So he wouldn’t pay no attention to her pleadin’s, only acted hateful -and cross to her, his guilty conscience makin’ him so, I spoze. - -And then, too, he wuz in a hurry, for his church duties wuz a-waitin’ -for him, and his barrels of cider wanted doctorin’ with alcohol and -sech. - -So he turned onto his heel and left her. - -And Annie went home more broken-hearted than ever, for his cold, cruel -sneers and scorn hurt her on the poor heart made sore by her husband’s -brutality. - -And Ellick went on worse than ever. And it wuz on that very day that -his brother-in-law (and to make it shorter we will call him B. I. -L.)--it wuz on the very day that the B. I. L. went to New York on his -great Amelioratin’ Human Misery errent, that Ellick, crazy drunk with -cider shampain, struck little Rob sech a blow that it knocked the child -down, and he laid stunted for more’n a hour. And he threatened Annie -that he would take her life, because she interfered between him and the -boy. - -He raved round, like the maniac that he wuz. He said that he would -throw her out doors if she didn’t git a good dinner, when there wuzn’t -a mite of food in the house to cook. He raved about the house bein’ so -freezin’ cold, when there wuzn’t a stick of wood nor a lump of coal. - -[Illustration: Ellick lay drunk in the office.] - -And finally he reeled off to his usual place of resort. And while the -B. I. L. wuz a-raisin’ up in the great meetin’-house, and a-smoothin’ -out his phylakricy, and a-layin’ the border of it careful, so’s it -would show off well, and then bustin’ out into sech a speech, on the -duties of church-members to the sinful and the sorrowin’ round ’em--a -speech that riz him up powerful in religious circles--Ellick lay drunk -in the office of his cider-mill. - -Little Rob lay like a dead child in a cold, bare room, and a -white-faced, half-starved mother bent over him with big, despairin’, -anxious eyes--bent over him till life come back to his poor, bruised -body; and then as darkness crept over the earth she stole away, -a-carryin’ him in her arms. - -She got a ride with a passin’ teamster, got carried fur off, then got -another ride, wuz fed and warmed by pityin’ hearts on the way; so she -come to a place nigh Jonesville, onbeknown to anybody. - -When Ellick rousted up out of his drunken sleep he went back to a -desolate, empty house. His surprise, his grief, sobered him. He flew to -the B. I. L., woke him out of a sound sleep filled with visions of his -triumphs. - -The B. I. L. wuz in a tryin’ place. He wuz about to be riz up to a -high position in the meetin’-house. If this story got out, it might -and probble would hurt him. Annie must be found and brought back. They -jined forces to try to find her. They sot out that very day, but the -quest wuz a long one. - -Annie stayed a spell with the family who took her in first out of the -cold and the darkness. - -The man of the house, and the woman, too, wuz relations on the soul -side to the good old Samaritan mentioned in Skripter. They did well by -her. - -But little Rob never got over the effects of the cruel blow, and the -fall on the hard floor, and the awful journey through the coldness -of the midnight escape. They all sort o’ underminded his little -constitution, and he wuz took sick a bed. - -And bein’ too tired out and hardly dealt with here on earth, he wuz -promoted up to that higher home, where we may be sure that his True -Father, the Helper of all the oppressed and burdened, accepted him -right into His great heart of Love, and wuz good to the little, patient -soul. - -Wall, Annie couldn’t tell me much about that time, when she had to let -the child, a part of her own life, go out of her arms, and she wuz left -alone--alone amongst strangers, helpless, despairin’, and poor. - -No, she couldn’t talk much about it, not in words, but I understood the -language of her tremblin’ lips and her fallin’ tears. - -Wall, when little Rob wuz laid away under the dead grasses and the bare -shade trees of that little country church-yard, Annie couldn’t stay -long in the house where he had been and now wuz not. - -His little figger hanted every room, and her agonized Remembrance wuz -a-walkin’ up and down with her. So she heard of a place in Jonesville -where mebby she could git work, and she come there. - -But lately news had come to her that her husband and B. I. L. wuz -huntin’ for her. - -Ellick really and truly loved his wife and child, so it wuz spozed, -and hunted for Love’s and Anxiety’s sakes. - -The B. I. L. hunted ’em so’s to hush up the story; it wuz a-hurtin’ him -dretfully in the eyes of the meetin’-house. And Anger and Selfishness -and Hypocrocy wuz a-holdin’ up their blue-flamed torches to light him -on his hunt. - -Wall, Annie wuz in deathly fear that they would find her. She had took -another name--her mother’s maiden name--but she wuz afraid they would -find it out. - -She said that she could not live to go through agin what she had gone -through with. And yet when I pinned her right down on the subject (a -calm, religious pinnin’) she owned up that she did love her husband -yet. She cried when she said it. - -And I thought to myself that I would cry if I wuz in her place, if I -loved such a thing as that. - -But she said, and mebby it wuz so, that he would have been all right if -it hadn’t been for the influence of the B. I. L. and his bein’ gradual -led back into drinkin’ agin by sunthin’ that he thought wouldn’t hurt -him. She said that he never would have touched whiskey agin, havin’ -promised and broke off. - -But he thought, somehow, that the liquid sech a highly religious man -wuz a-sellin’ under the name of cider must be sort o’ soothin’ to his -insides; but instead of that it set fire to ’em, and his morals and -all, and burnt ’em right up. - -Annie showed me Ellick’s picter, and it wuz a good-lookin’ face, or -kinder good; it would have been handsome if it hadn’t been for a sort -of a weak look onto it. - -But weak or strong, she loved him. And so I didn’t really know how she -wuz a-comin’ out so fur as her own happiness wuz concerned. Wimmen are -so queer. - -But I chirked her up all I could, told her to keep jest as calm as she -could conveniently, and I would take care of her for the present. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -SAMANTHA’S SWORD OF TRUTH AND JUSTICE. - -Wall, if you’ll believe it, it wuz the very next day I had a occasion -to go to Jonesville for some necessaries; and Josiah wuz busy a-makin’ -a new stanchil in the barn, so I sot off alone after breakfast with a -large pail of good butter, and a cross-cut saw that Josiah had sent -down to be filed, and the mair. - -Wall, jest about a mild from our house is a old tarvern that has -been fixed up and is used now as a sort of a half-way house between -Jonesville and Loontown. Teamsters and sech stop there a sight to git -“Refreshments for man and beast,” as the sign reads. - -Wall, I had got most there when I see a man approachin’ me a-walkin’ -afoot. And I knew him the first minute I sot my eyes on him. - -It wuz Ellick Gurley. - -[Illustration: It wuz Ellick Gurley.] - -And the very minute I sot my eyes onto his face Duty and Principle both -hunched me up hard to tackle him in this matter. - -Wall, most probble he had been hangin’ round for some time, for he knew -me the first thing, and he come up to the side of the democrat wagon I -wuz a-ridin’ in, bold as brass, and he sez: - -“Is this Josiah Allen’s wife?” sez he. - -“Yes, sir,” sez I, up clear and decided. - -“Is a woman calling herself Anna Clark at your house?” - -I wuzn’t a-goin’ to fight for Annie with any pewter weepons of untruth. -No, I wuz a-goin’ to fight with the two-edged sword of Eternal Truth -and Jestice, and I took ’em out and whetted ’em (as it were), and sez -I, sharp and keen-- - -“Yes, sir!” - -“Well,” sez he, lookin’ dretful defiant and mad at me, “she is my wife, -and I hereby forbid you harboring her, for I will pay no debts of her -contracting.” - -“Like as not,” sez I coolly, “as you never paid any of your own.” - -He kinder blushed up some, but he went on some as if he wuz -a-rehearsin’ a piece he had learnt: - -“She has left my bed and board!” - -Then I waved that sword of Truth agin that I had been a-whettin’, and -sez I-- - -“It wuz her bed. Her mother gin it to her for her settin’ out, and -picked every feather in it from her own geese and ganders. I got it -from Annie’s own lips, and you sold it for drink. As for the boards,” -sez I candidly, for even in the midst of the fiercest battle with the -forces of wrong I must be jest to my foe, and so sez I-- - -“As for the piece of board you speak of, I d’no whose it wuz, but I -believe it wuz hern. Anyway, I know she earnt every mite of food and -drink you took into your miserable body.” - -And the remembrance of Annie’s wrongs and woes so overmastered me, that -I sez right out-- - -“You drunken, low-lived snipe, you! how dast you be comin’ round that -good little creeter, and tryin’ to git her back into her starvation and -slavery, and peril of life and limb? How dast you, you drunken coot, -you?” sez I, a-lookin’ two or three daggers at him and some simeters. - -He quailed. I d’no as I ever see signs of quail any plainer than I see -it in him. - -But he muttered sunthin’ about--“A man’s having a right to his wife and -child.” - -“A right?” sez I; “do you dast to look anybody in the face and talk -of your right to wife and child, when it wuz your poor, abused, -half-starved wife’s weak arms and mighty love that riz up between you -and your child and murder? Riz up between you and the gallows?” - -He quailed deeper, fur deeper than he had quailed, and his lips -trembled. - -And I see under the quail, come to look clost at him, that there wuz a -kinder good-hearted look under all the weakness and dissipated look of -his face. I see, or thought I see, that it wuz bad influences that had -led him astray, and if he had kep’ under good influence and away from -bad ones (the B. I. L. and his hard cider, etc.), I thought like as -not, from the generous lay of his features, that he might have been a -tolerable good-lookin’ feller and behaved middlin’ well. - -And that is why I spozed that Annie looked so heart-broken, that wuz -why, I spoze, that, in spite of all she had underwent, my contoggler -loved him. - -But anon he sprunted up some and said sunthin’ about bein’ bound to -have his wife. - -And I waved my sword of Jestice agin (mentally) and sez-- - -“Wall, I am bound that you shan’t have her, and you’ll see,” sez I, -“who’ll carry the day!” - -And then he sez, “What right have you to interfere? What relation are -you to her?” - -And sez I, a-liftin’ up my head in a very noble way--“The same relation -that the Samaritan wuz to the man by the wayside. She’s my relation -on the heart’s side, the Pity and Sympathy’s side. Closter ties than -the false, shaky ones that bound her to a life of slavery and danger -with you--bound her to you, who promised to protect her, and then -half-murdered her. And you’ll find out so!” sez I, a-lookin’ as bold -as brass, but in my heart I quaked considerable, not knowin’ but I wuz -a-goin’ agin the hull statute and constitution and by-laws of the U. S. -of America. - -But I spoze my mean skairt him. It had sech determination and courage -into it, and he sez-- - -“I will go and call my brother-in-law. He is a rich and respectable man -and very religious. I will bring him to talk with you.” - -“Wall, do so!” sez I, bold as a lioness on the outside. “I’d love to -set my eyes onto that creeter, jest out of curosity, jest as I would -look at a menagerie of wild beasts and man-eaters.” - -So he went back into the tarvern and brung him. - -He wuz a mean-lookin’ creeter in his face, and he wuz short in statter, -and his figger looked sort o’ sneakin’ under the weight of guilt he wuz -a-carryin’ round under the cloak of religion. - -And his little black eyes looked guilty, and his hull face, under -some kinder red hair, looked withered and hardened, as if his doin’ -for years what he knew wuz wicked had hardened his face into a cruel -meanness. He looked mean as mean could be. - -But he tried to hold his head up, and he bust out the first thing -about takin’ the law to me! - -“_You_ take the law to me! _you!_” - -And oh! how my simeter of Truth and Jestice jest flashed round that -man’s short, meachin’ figger. - -“You take the law on anybody, you mean creeter you! who have brung all -this sin and misery to pass for your own selfishness. You, who took the -good-tempered, weak boy and poured your poison down his throat till you -flooded out all his moral sense and husbandly and fatherly affection, -and filled up the empty space with the demons of Hatred and Brutality -and crazy quarrelin’s! - -“You talk of law, who stole away every mite of that poor girl’s -happiness and every cent of her money for your cursed drink! - -“You, who drove out of their home the sweet angel of Happiness, who -used to board with ’em stiddy, and drove in your beasts of prey! - -“You ruined her happiness, you starved her, you broke her heart, and -now you want her back to torment her agin! - -“Wall, you won’t have her, unless you take her over my prostrate form!” - -The B. I. L. wuz half skairt to death, and he stood demute. - -But Ellick broke in with tremblin’ lips. He stopped talkin’ about Annie -for a spell, bein’, I spoze, perfectly overcome by my eloquence. And -he begun on another tack, and sez he in tremblin’ axents-- - -“I want my boy,” sez he, “I will have my child!” - -And I see that he did have a deathly longin’ and hungry look in his -eyes. I could see that he did love his wife and child, deep and -earnest. And I felt a little mite tenderer towards him, not much, for I -kep’ a-thinkin’ of how Annie’s face had looked as she come and throwed -herself at my feet. - -The memory of that white face and them big, anguished eyes riz my heart -up and kep’ it from meltin’ right down under the agony of that man’s -look. - -The B. I. L., whose selfishness had done the hull work, he too looked a -heartfelt anxiety about the boy. I see that he loved him too, and wuz -proud of him. - -But, as I say, the memory of the Giant Wrong that had struck down Annie -and the boy stood right by me and nerved me up, and I sez-- - -“You can’t have the child!” - -Then Ellick flared right up, and sez he-- - -“I will have the child, and I’ll let you know that I will! I am his -natural guardian, and I’ll let you know that the law is on my side, and -I can take him, and I will take him!” - -“No,” sez I, “you can’t take him!” - -“He can!” sez the B. I. L., speakin’ up sharp as a meat-axe--“he can; -nobody loves the child as well as we do; and he is the child’s natural -guardian, and we can take him away from any place you have put him in.” - -And agin I sez, “No you can’t, not from the place he is in now. The boy -has got another gardeen now, a better one.” - -“Another guardian!” sez the father; “well, I will tear him right out of -his hands; I will make him give him up!” - -He wuz jealous as a dog, I could see, of the gardeen. - -“No you won’t!” sez I. - -“Yes he will!” sez the B. I. L.; “we’ll teach him what the law is, and -that a father can get his boy every time!” - -“Not this time!” sez I; “this gardeen is powerful and kind, too; and he -has got him in a safe place. He wuz misused and kicked and beaten and -half starved; but he has enough now; he has got a home of plenty and -rest and happiness. He is safe,” sez I. - -“No matter how safe it is we will have him right out of it!” sez the B. -I. L. - -“He is my child, and I _will_ have him!” says Ellick Gurley. - -“No,” sez I, “you can’t have him. You can’t pull that tender little -body out of the grave to misuse it agin. You can’t draw the sweet -little sperit out of God’s happy home to torment it agin. The Lord is -his father and his gardeen now, and He will keep the boy!” - -“Dead!” cried the B. I. L., and he staggered back like a drunken man, -and his face turned white as a bleached white cotton shirt. - -“Dead! my baby dead!” sez Ellick Gurley. “Then I am his murderer!” - -And he threw up his arms as if he had received a pistol shot right in -his heart, and then he fell jest like a log right down in the road. -Wall, I disembarked from my democrat, and by the time the B. I. L. had -got him up in a more settin’ poster on a log by the side of the road, I -wuz by him a-holdin’ his head and a-chafin’ his hands and his forward. - -When he come to and riz up and sot upright, his first words wuz-- - -“Oh! poor Annie! poor girl! how did she bear it, all alone with our -dead boy! Oh! my boy! my boy that I killed!” - -I see plain that there wuz good in the man, after all. - -But the B. I. L. had by this time sprunted up, and wuz a-thinkin’ of -his phylakricy, and a-pullin’ it over himself and Ellick, and seemed -anxious to sort o’ hush him up, and sez he-- - -“It wasn’t your doings, it wasn’t the accident that killed the boy, it -was probably something else.” - -“Yes,” sez I, lookin’ at the B. I. L. straight in the face--“yes, -it _wuz_ sunthin’ else, it wuz _you_! You smooth-faced, selfish -hyppocrite, you; it wuz your doin’s that killed the boy! If you had -left his Pa alone, and not led him into a condition fit to murder, jest -to put a few cents into your own pocket, the boy would have been alive -and happy to-day, and so would Ellick and Annie.” Sez I, “It wuz your -doin’s, and you don’t want to forgit it!” sez I. - -[Illustration: “Yes, it _wuz_ sunthin’ else; it wuz _you_.”] - -He quailed, he quailed hard, and sez he-- - -“You talk like a fool!” - -“No,” sez I; “you are the fool, for it is the fool that hath said that -there is no God, and you see there is,” sez I--“a God that punishes -sin, who is even now a-punishin’ you; a God who said, “Cursed is he who -putteth the cup to his neighbor’s lips.” Sez I, “You have prospered -and grown rich in your bizness of beast-makin’, and you didn’t believe -there wuz Eternal Jestice a-watchin’ over your sinful deeds, and you -find now that you wuz a fool to believe it. For you find now that there -is a God. You find now that you _are_ cursed for your sin in makin’ -murderers and assassins and wife-beaters and child-killers!” - -Sez I, “You loved little Rob; your bad heart is achin’ now this minute -to think it wuz your hand that dealt out the poison that reached him -through his father’s weakness and miserable vice!” - -He wuz demute. He didn’t say a word, but a look come over his face that -I don’t want to see agin. He didn’t want to give up and own up his -guilt and repent, and he wuz jest crushed right down about little Rob. -He wuz jest tosted both ways, between agony and selfishness. He didn’t -want to give up his profitable bizness of beast-makin’, and he wuz -horrow struck to think that his own little idol had fell a victim. - -His face looked like a humbly fallen angel’s, or how I spoze they look. -I never see one fall. - -He didn’t say another word, but turned on his heel and walked off. - -The last word he said to me, as I stated heretofore, wuz callin’ me “a -fool.” - -But I didn’t care for that. I knew I wuzn’t. - -But still that broken-hearted father, that wretched, lonesome husband -sot there by the side of the road. Finally he spoke---- - -“Can I see Annie?” - -“No, sir!” sez I plain and square--jest as plain and jest as square -as if my own heart wuzn’t a-achin’, and a-achin’ hard, too, for the -miserable, broken-hearted man. - -My tears, if they fell, and I spoze they did from my feelin’s, fell -inside of my head; for I wouldn’t let him have a chance to misuse and -torment that good little creeter agin, not if I could help it. - -He trembled like a popple leaf. He wuz paler than any dish-cloth I -ever see, and I see my advantage, and I hardened my heart, some like -Pharo’s, only a more pious hardenin’, for it wuz done on principle. - -“You talk of wantin’ that poor girl to go back to your cold, naked -home, to hardship, to starvation, to wretchedness--bodily wretchedness -and heart wretchedness. For she loves you still, you poor snipe, you; -she loves you, fool that she is, but wimmen are weak.” - -I see his face grow brighter for a minute, and then turn pale as death -agin. - -“Will she forgive me?” sez he in axents weak as a cat, and weaker, too, -and fur hopelesser than any cat I ever see. - -“Not if I can help it!” sez I heartlessly (on the outside) and boldly. - -“I’ll do better. I’ll promise her to not drink another drop!” - -“Promises are cheap,” sez I in a lofty way, a-lookin’ up into a tree, -for his pale face weakened me, and I felt that I must be strong. So I -looked up into the tree overhead. It wuz a slippery ellum, but I held -firm. - -“Promises are cheap and slippery,” sez I. I spoze it wuz that tree that -put me in mind of that simely. “She shan’t be led away by ’em agin, by -my consent.” - -“If I don’t drink for a year will you help me to have my wife back -again?” - -His voice trembled. - -“That is beginnin’ to talk like a human creeter,” sez I, and I looked -down from the ellum sort o’ benignantly. And I sez in a more warmer -axent, but not too warm--jest about milk warm-- - -“You stop drinkin’ for a year. You git another home for her as good as -you took her to at first, and I’ll advise her to talk with you about -goin’ back, and not one minute before!” sez I. - -“Can I see her one minute?” sez he. - -Annie wuz to home. Josiah wuz away. All devolved on me, and I riz up to -the occasion. - -“No!” sez I, “you can’t; you can’t see her to-day for a minute, or a -secont!” - -(I knew putty wuz hard in comparison to her heart, and I wouldn’t run -the resk.) - -“You stop drinkin’ for six months,” sez I, “and you may see her for -one-half hour in my presence, and not a minute longer,” sez I, as -resolute as iron. “I’ll take care of her, and when you’ve earnt the -right to have her agin with you, I’ll give her up to you and not a -minute before,” sez I--“not a minute!” - -He riz right up, the tears runnin’ down his face, and he ketched holt -of my hand and kissed it. I d’no when I’ve been so kinder took back. - -But I knew that Josiah wouldn’t care on sech a occasion as this, there -wuzn’t anything immoral in it, and I couldn’t hender it anyway, it wuz -done so quick. And then he started right off, fast as he could go. - -And as sure as the world, that man went to work at his trade. Got two -dollars a day. He didn’t drink a drop. He rented a little house with -five acres of grass land round it and a paster. He kep’ two cows, -milked ’em nights and mornin’s, sold his milk and laid up money. - -Workin’ with all his heart and soul to be worthy of his wife and home. - -And I writ to that man stiddy, jest as stiddy as though I wuz a-keepin’ -company with him, every week of my life. - -Josiah didn’t care. Good land! I writ on duty. I sent him good letters, -all about how Annie wuz, and how she looked, and what she said, and -a-holdin’ up his arms like Arun and Hur (specially Hur, it sounds some -like a woman). - -She made it her home with me, but went out to contoggle here and there, -and laid up money, bought sheets and piller-cases and sech. And I -helped her to two comforters and a bed-spread. - -But she didn’t go back to him till the year wuz up. - -No, I see to that. - -And when that year had gone by, he wuz a sober man all the time, -completely out from under the influences of the B. I. L. and cider and -whiskey and saloons, and completely under ourn, Annie’s and mine and -Temperance. And we a-doin’ our very best for him, and a-believin’ in -him, and a-helpin’ him, all three on us. - -Why, then I ventered to let her go and live with him agin. And I even -made a party for ’em on the occasion. Some like a weddin’ party, for -we all brung presents to ’em. And the children and a few sincere -well-wishers that she had contoggled for and Josiah and me all jinin’ -hearty in the prayer Elder Minkley put up after supper for the peace -and prosperity of the new home. - -And they’ve prospered first-rate. - -Their sweet, cozy home is pleasant, as a home where Love is always -must be. But it is a-settin’ down under a shadder, and always will set -there. It can’t be helped. - -The shadder stands up behind it, some like a mountain; but the peace -and happiness of the present is gradually a-makin’ a meller, tender -haze in front on’t; some as the blue, luminous sky of Injun Summer -floats in and softens the truth of the year’s decay. - -It is there, all the same, but time and that soft, tender mist wears -off the sharp edges on’t, and sometimes the shadders fall some in the -shape of a cross. The sun hits it in jest the right way. - -Annie and Ellick jined the meetin’-house the year after they come -together agin, and the Elder and several of us bretheren and sistern -gathered round ’em, and held up their courage and helped ’em along all -we could. - -And though some are kinder mean and throw out hints, for human nater -can’t be helped, and mean and small souls have got to act out what is -inherient in ’em, and some, specially the B. I. L. and his family, made -lots of talk about him and her, and poked fun at ’em, and acted. But -Ellick is a-learnin’ to be patient and bear what he says he knows is -“The Wages of Sin.” - -But, as naterally follers, he is now in the employ of another Master, -and his wages is a-comin’ in better and better every day. - -And wuzn’t he happy when he held another little boy on his knee? Little -Tom Josiah, named after my two best-beloved males. - -And Annie wanted to add “Sam” to it for me, but I demurred, sayin’, -“They didn’t seem to go together smooth. Tom Josiah Sam didn’t seem to -have the flow and rythm to suit my melodious idees. - -Sez I, “Save the Sam, it may come in handy in the futer.” - -[Illustration: “Save the Sam, it may come in handy in the futer.”] - -But the dimpled hands of that child seemed to draw Annie and Ellick -nigher together than they’d ever been, and pull ’em both along, -onbeknown to ’em, into the sunshiny fields of happiness. - -Thomas J. gin little Tom Josiah ten dollars to put in the Savin’s Bank -at compounded interest, and Josiah gin him two lambs, which are a-goin’ -to be put out to double to the very best advantage for him. - -By the time he is twenty-one he will have considerable money, and a big -flock of sheep to drive on before him down the path of the futer. - -But I might talk for hours and hours and not exhaust the fascinatin’ -subject of the peace and prosperity of the one who has left the paths -of sin and hard cider and whiskey, etc., and is walkin’ in the paths of -sobriety and success. - -But to them not interested so much in this cause, so dear to the heart -of her whose name wuz once Smith, the subject may grow monotunous and -tejus, so I will resoom and take up the thread of my discourse over my -finger agin, and let it purr along on the spool of History. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A HEATHEN’S STANDARD OF MORALITY. - - -Wall, Al Faizi hearn this story about the contoggler’s sufferin’s -and the doin’s of the B. I. L., and I never see him so riz up about -anything as he wuz with that. - -Sez he--“This man who loved the child sold stuff to his father that he -knew would make him liable to murder him? I cannot believe it possible -that such a crime can be permitted. - -“To one coming from a heathen land it seems incredible.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “I’ve always said that it wuz a worse practice than any -savages ever dremp of.” - -Said Al Faizi-- - -“This is probably the one solitary instance that ever occurred where -the death of a person much beloved was caused by a man for a few cents’ -gain.” - -“One instance!” sez I; “why, all over this broad country, day after -day, and year after year, murders are brought about almost solely by -this cause!” - -He sithed deep and seemed to be turnin’ in his mind some possible -remedy for this dretful state of things. - -“Could not these men be persuaded to stop this trade that kills men in -this world, and destroys their hopes of Heaven?” - -“No,” sez I, “they can’t be persuaded; it has been tried by good -men and good wimmen for years and years; they will keep on, driv by -Selfishness and Ignorance, that span of bloody beasts!” - -“Could not the law interfere?” sez he; “could not your great police -force step in and punish these dreadful doings?” - -Sez I, “It could, if it wuzn’t spendin’ its hull strength on devisin’ -ways to protect the liquor traffic. - -“The police might bring some on ’em up if it wuzn’t a-sneakin’ into -side-doors a-partakin’ on the sly of the poison!” - -Sez I, “It gits braced up in this way, so’s it’s ready to drag off to -jail the poor, weak drunkards, made so by the saloons, and by the men -who supply the saloons, and by the voters who make this thing possible, -and by the goverment that sustains it.” - -“Why does not your great nation interfere and compel them to stop it?” -sez he. - -“Because this great nation is in company with ’em,” sez I--“partakers -in this iniquity, and takin’ part of the bloody gain.” - -And my feathers drooped and my face wuz as red as blood to have to own -up these things to a heathen, that wuz a-contrastin’ our ways with his -own, which wuz so much more superior and riz up on the liquor question. - -“Your holy church,” sez he, “why does not that, so great and powerful -a force in this land, why does it not interfere and frown down these -wicked ways? Why does it not pronounce its anathema on all those who -commit this sin--this B.I.L., as I have heard him called, and men like -him, who own saloons and supply the stuff that makes murderers?” - -“This B.I.L.,” sez I, “is a piller in his meetin’-house. He sets in the -highest place,” sez I. - -“One of your holy men who take charge of the sacred things, permitted -by your customs to carry on such iniquity? I cannot understand it,” sez -he. - -Sez I--“Nobody ort to understand it!” Sez I, “It is a shame and a -disgrace, anyway!” - -“Why,” sez he, “in my own country our men who take part in holy -observances have to lead pure lives--to fast and pray continually. -I cannot understand that one would be permitted to carry on an evil -business six days during the week and touch the sacred things of your -religion the seventh day.” - -Agin I sez--“Nobody ort to understand it; it would be a shame to -heathen countries!” sez I. - -Sez he--“This very man who was the cause of all this wretchedness and -crime and murder--he prays for the heathen, does he not?” - -“I spoze so,” sez I. - -“He carries round the vessel in which you gather the money to send to -the heathen for charity and instruction?” - -“Yes,” sez I; “but we call it the contribution plate.” - -“Well,” sez he, “we refuse to accept his money; we refuse to take the -money that man desecrates by touching. - -“And,” sez he, “I will tell him so.” - -And so I spoze he did--good, simple-minded creeter. He didn’t seem to -have but two idees in his head--one to learn the will of God, and the -other to do it. - -And from what I’ve hearn sence I guess he did impress the B.I.L. - -The idee of havin’ a heathen from heathen lands come to labor with him -on religion kinder shook him up, from all I can hear. - -I shouldn’t wonder if he did leave off his dretful trade, and come -part way up to a heathen’s standard of morality. - -But if he duz, no thanks are due to our own law or to our own gospel. -They wuz both weighed in the balances and found wantin’. - -If things are ever put on a more religious and noble and riz up footin’ -it will all be caused by the missionary efforts of a heathen. - -But to resoom. - -Another thing about our contoggler interested Al Faizi dretfully. It -wuz some talks he had with her about wimmen’s dress. - -Annie wuz sensible, and hated the tight girtin’s indulged in by some -of our females. And Al Faizi expressed the greatest wonder at the -ignorance and folly showed by civilized wimmen. - -The pressin’ in and destroyin’ all the vital organs by lacin’ in the -waist. He expressed great wonder that a civilized people could commit -this crime aginst the laws of health and the solemn laws of heredity. - -He said when he contrasted the loose, comfortable robes of his own -wimmen with the deformities caused by tight lacin’, more and more he -wondered at the strange sights of civilization. - -And then he said that in hospitals (for this strange creeter had peered -round everywhere in search of knowledge), he had seen some of the -terrible effects of tight lacin’ and high-heeled shoes. - -He said that he had seen cases of blindness, caused by the last, and a -destruction of the nerves. - -In lacin’, he had seen dretful cases of internal diseases, incurable, -and had seen terrible diseases in infants, caused alone by this -destructive custom of the mothers--young infants who, if they lived, -must carry a maimed body through life with ’em, caused alone by this -habit. - -Sez he, “Compare these high-heeled shoes with the loose, comfortable -sandals that our own women wear. And these painful steel waists, that -compress the lungs and heart, with our own women’s loose, flowing -garments,” and he wuz astounded at our ways. - -Wall, I agreed with him from the bottom of my heart, but sech is poor -human nater that it kinder galded me to have my sect so sot down on -and despised by a heathen. And I, kinder onbeknown to me, brung up -their own veiled wimmen. “And,” sez I, “every country has its own -shortcomin’s; I don’t like the idee of your wimmen havin’ their faces -all covered up with veils.” - -My tone wuz kinder het up and agitated. - -But his voice wuz as sweet and calm as the evenin’ breeze a-blowin’ -over a bed of Japanese lilies. - -“Yes,” sez he, “perhaps we err in that direction, in veiling our women -too much from the public gaze. - -“But,” sez he, “I went to a grand party once in your great city -Chicago, and to one also in Washington, and I see the women’s forms -almost entirely disrobed and nude, while great folds of cloth trailed -after them down on the floor. I knew not where to look for shame, for -even when I was a nursing babe in my mother’s arms, I could not have -witnessed such sights. - -“And while we Eastern people may err in the direction of veiling the -charms of our women-kind, methinks you Western people err still further -in the opposite direction. At these public parties I saw the naked -forms of the women, displayed with far more than the freedom of the -courtesans in my own country, and my heart sank down with shrinking and -wonder at the strange customs of civilization.” - -I felt meachin’. I felt small enough to have gone to bed through my -bedroom key-hole. But I thought I wouldn’t. I only sez--“Wall, I guess -it is about bed-time.” - -Josiah had already sought repose in our bedroom. - -And Al Faizi got up at once and took his night-lamp, and bid me -good-night with one of his low, reverential bows. - -[Illustration: WITH ONE OF HIS LOW, REVERENTIAL BOWS.] - -I knew what he said wuz the truth. I had meditated on it. And in my -own way I had tried to break it up--the tight-lacin’, train-dragglin’, -high-heeled doin’s. - -But, as I say, it galded me deeply to hear these truths discanted on by -a heathen. - -I love my sect, and wish her dretful well, and I can’t bear to see -heathens a-lookin’ down on her. - -And then Al Faizi hearn about how little children are put to work at a -tender age down in the damp, dark mines, shet away from Heaven’s light, -through long, long days, until their youth is gone and old age dims -their eyes. - -And he sot off for a distant part of the country to see the owners of -the mines, and see for himself, and use his influence to have this evil -abolished. - -And then he hearn about how young children are bought in the great -stores of the big citys. - -He hearn all the tales of sin and woe connected with sech doin’s--worse -than the Masacreein’ of the Innocents. - -He sot out to once to investigate, and to warn, and to rebuke. - -And he hearn with wonder and unbelief, at first, the story how children -could sell their honor and all their hopes of the futer at a tender age. - -And how this great nation permits this iniquity, and makes laws to -perpetuate it, and shield the guilty men who indulge in this sin. - -And all the horrows that gathers round them infamous words-- - -“The Age of Consent.” - -As he talked with me about it, I could see by the deep fire that wuz -lit up in his usually soft eyes his burnin’ indignation aginst this -idee that had jest been promulgated to him. - -Sez he--“You Christians talk a sight about the car of Juggernaut that -rolls on over living victims and crushes them down, but,” sez he, -“death leaves the soul free to fly home to its paradise; but your -Christian country has found the way to ruin the _souls_ of children, as -well as their bodies. How can you sit down calmly and know that such a -law is in existence? How can mothers happily watch their sweet little -baby girls at play, and know that such a horrible danger lurks in the -path their ignorant little feet have got to tread, such a snare is set -for them?” - -“They don’t set calm and happy--mothers don’t!” I bust out; “their -hearts and souls are full. They cry to God in their anguish and fear, -but they can’t do nothin’ else, wimmen can’t; men made this law, made -it for men. Men say they don’t want to put wimmen to the trouble of -votin’, and so they hender ’em from the hardship of droppin’ a little -scrap of paper in a small box once a year, and give ’em this corrodin’, -constant fear and anguish to carry with ’em day and night, like a load -of swords and simeters, every one of ’em a-stabbin’ their hearts.” - -“But how can men, fathers of young girls, make this law, or allow it to -go on? Don’t they think of their own young daughters, who may be ruined -by it?” - -“They don’t make this law and vote for this law for their own girls--it -is to ruin other men’s girls that it is made.” - -“Don’t they know that the sword of retribution is two-sided--that it is -liable to cut down their own beloved?” - -“No, they don’t think at all; their vile passions clog up their ears -and blind their eyes.” - -“But your ministers, your holy men, what are they doing? I supposed -their mission was to preach to sinners, and try to make the world -better. I have heard them speak of many things in the high places where -they stand to warn the people of their sins, and the judgment to come, -but I never heard them allude to this. Why do they let this enormous -crime go on unrebuked?” - -“The land knows!” sez I; “I don’t; they go on year in and year out, -a-preachin’ about Job’s sufferin’s, and Pharo’s hardness of heart, and -the Deluge, and other ancient sins and sufferin’s all healed up and -done away with centuries ago. - -“Why, it is six thousand years sence Pharo’s heart hardened or Job’s -biles ached, and the green grass of centuries has riz up over the -sweepin’ swash of the Deluge, but they will calmly go on Sunday after -Sunday for years a-preachin’ on that agony and that wickedness and that -overflow, and not one word do they say about the hardness of heart of -the men who make and permit this law, which makes Pharo’s hardness seem -like putty in comparison, or the agony and dread this law brings to -mothers’ hearts in the night watches, a-thinkin’ on’t, and thinkin’ of -their own helplessness to protect the ones who they would give their -life for. And the depths of wretchedness that overwhelms the souls this -law wuz made to ruin! What are biles compared to these pains? - -“But the clergymen, the most on ’em, go calmly on a-pintin’ these -old sins and pains out, and the overflow of the Deluge, and drawin’ -tenthlies and twentiethlies from ’em, and not one word about this -cryin’ iniquity, so great that it seems as if it would open the very -sluce-ways of Heaven and let a new flood down onto this guilty age that -will allow sech crime to go on unrebuked. - -“And philosophers will moralize on old laws and new ones, and their -cause and effects; on Heaven and earth, and not seemin’ly cast a eye -of their spectacles on this law of sin and shame that rises up right -before their eyes. And scientists rack their brains to discover new -laws and utilize old ones, but don’t make a effort towards discoverin’ -a way to avert this enormous cause of woe and guilt, this fur-reachin’ -and ever-increasin’ anguish and crime. And law-makers, instead of -tryin’ to overcome it, try their best to perpetuate it and make it -permanent; bend all their powers of intellect, band together, and use -the cunnin’ of serpents and the wisdom of old Lucifer to git their -laws passed and git Uncle Sam to jine in with ’em. Poor misguided old -creeter, a-bein’ led off by his old nose, and made to consent to this -crime and help it along!” - -Al Faizi had been listenin’ in deep thought, and now he sez: “This -uncle of yours I know him not; but your great Government, could it not -interfere and stop this iniquity?” - -“It could” (sez I, mad as a hen)--“it could, if it wuzn’t jined right -in with them law-makers and helpin’ ’em along; and,” sez I, “now -they’re tryin’ to git the poor old creeter to consent to a new idee. -Some big clergymen and other wise men are a-tryin’ to have these -wimmen, ruined by the evil passions of men, shet up in a certain pen -to keep ’em from doin’ harm to innocent folks, and not one word said -about shettin’ up the men who have made these wimmen what they are. Why -don’t they shet them up? There they be foot loose. If they have ruined -one pen full of wimmen, what henders ’em from spilin’ another pen full? -But there they be a-runnin’ loose and even a-votin’ on how firm and -strong the pen should be made to confine these victims of theirn. And -how big salaries the men who keep these pens in order shall have--good -big salaries, I’ll warrant you. Wise men and ministers advocate this -onjestice, and laymen are glad to practise what they preach. - -“There hain’t nothin’ reasonable in it; if a pen has got to be made for -bad wimmen, why not have another pen, jest like it, only a great deal -bigger, made for the bad man? - -“Why, this seems so reasonable and right I should think that Jestice -would lift the bandage offen her eyes and holler out and say it must -he done! But no, there hain’t no move made towards pennin’ bad men -up--not a move.” - -Al Faizi sez--“I cannot understand these strange things.” - -And I sez--“Nobody can, unless it is old Belzibub; I guess he gits the -run on it.” - -Wall, he took out that book of hisen and writ for pretty nigh an hour. - -And that is jest the way he went on and acted from day to day. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -A LITTLE FUN AND ITS PRICE. - - -Al Faizi got acquainted with the Baptist minister at Jonesville, and -Elder Dean took to that noble heathen in a remarkable way. He wuz -a truly Christian man and deep learnt, and he and Al Faizi talked -together right in my presence in languages, a good many of them dead, I -spoze, and some on ’em, jedgin’ from the sound, in a sickly and dyin’ -state. - -Elder Dean wuz English, college bred. Been abroad as a missionary, -broke down, and come to Jonesville with a weak voice and lungs, but -a full head and a noble heart, for six hundred dollars a year and -parsonage found. - -They’d always had a hard time, bein’ put to it for things and kinder -sickly. But he and his heroic wife had one flower in their life that -wuz a-bustin’ into full bloom, and a-sweetenin’ their hard present and -their wearisome past, and the promise and beauty on’t a-throwin’ a -bright, clear light clear acrost their futer--even down the steep banks -where the swift stream rushes through the dark, and clear over onto the -other side. - -This brightness and blessin’ that lightened up their hard and toilsome -way wuz their only child, a youth of such manly beauty and gentle -goodness that his love made up to ’em, so they said to me, for all they -had suffered and all they had lost through their lives. - -He had been brought up on clear love mostly. His Pa and Ma had -literally carried him in their hearts from the time his sweet, baby -face had smiled up to ’em from his cradle. - -Nobody could tell the tenderness and love that had been lavished on -him. His Ma jest lived in him and his Pa, too, but their devotion -hadn’t spilte him, not at all--not mentally nor morally. - -Though there wuz them that did think that his Ma, bein’ so dretful -tender of him and lookin’ out so for his health in every way, had -kinder weakened his constitution and he would have been stronger if he -had roughed it more. - -Bein’ watched over so lovin’ly all his days, he wuz jest about as -delicate and couldn’t stand any more hardship than a girl; but he wuz -stiddy and industrious, a good Christian, and dretful ambitious. And -they looked forrered to him as bein’ an honor as well as a blessin’ to -’em in the futer. - -The minister had learnt him all he knew, so he said, and for years -back they’d been savin’ every penny they could, deprivin’ themselves -of even necessaries to git the money to send Harry to college. From -his babyhood they’d worked for this. And jest before Al Faizi come to -Jonesville, the long looked-for and worked-for end had come--Harry had -gone to college, a-carryin’ with him all his parents’ love and hope for -the futer, and a small trunk full of necessaries, some Balsam of Fir -for his lungs, and some plasters and things his Ma had put in. - -Wall, as I said, Elder Dean had took dretfully to Al Faizi, and he to -him. So one day I invited the elder and his wife over to dinner. I went -myself to gin ’em the invitation. - -I found the elder a carefully coverin’ a old book of poems he had -bought, which wuz very rare, so he said, and jest what Harry had -wanted. He had took the money he had been savin’ for a winter coat, so -I hearn afterwards, to buy it. - -And she wuz knittin’ a african to put over the couch in his room. She -had ravelled out a good shawl of her own to git the red for it, so I -hearn. - -“But,” she sez, “when he comes into his room a little chilly, it will -be so nice to throw over his feet, and he always liked that soft, -crimson color. He gits cold real easy,” sez she, a-holdin’ up the -african and lookin’ real affectionate at it. It wuz a good african. - -I asked ’em to come to dinner the next day, and they both demurred at -first, sayin’ that it wuz the day for Harry’s long letter to come. He -writ ’em long letters twice a week, and they both felt that they wanted -to be right there by the post-office so’s to git it the minute it -arrove. - -Wall, it wuz compromised in this way--I promisin’ that Ury should be -at the post-office when the afternoon mail come in and bring it to ’em -right to our house. And I mentioned that the old mair could go pretty -fast when Ury and Necessity wuz a-drivin’ her; so they consented to -come. - -And I cooked up dretful good vittles. I don’t think they’re ever than -above well fed to home, and I did enjoy a-cookin’ up good, nourishin’ -food for ’em with Philury’s help. - -I had some good beef soup, two roast chickens, with garden sass of all -kinds, cream biscuit, strawberry shortcake and jell, and rich, yellow -coffee with cream and loaf sugar in it. - -I did well by ’em. - -And I had a real good visit with ’em; for I jest as lives spend my time -a-hearin’ about Harry as not. I wuz a-knittin’, and of course could -hear and knit. And Josiah and Al Faizi (good creeters both on ’em) had -jest as lives hear the elder praise up his boy in dead languages as in -live ones. - -And so they enjoyed themselves real well. - -As I say, when the elder would git tired of praisin’ him up in English -he would try it in Greek, and when that language got tired out and -kinder dead, he would try a healthier, stronger one, so I spoze. He and -Al Faizi sot out in the porch some of the time, but I could hear ’em. - -Miss Dean and I got along first-rate in our own native tongues, though -once in awhile I felt that, visitor or no visitor, I had to sprunt up a -little and tell my mind about Thomas J., and what a remarkable boy he -always wuz, and what a man he’d made. - -But I see they wuz so oneasy when they wuzn’t a-praisin’ Harry that -I switched off the track as polite as I could and gin ’em a clear -sweep. And from that time Happiness and Harry rained supreme in our -settin’-room and piazza. And reminescenes wuz brung up and plans laid -on and prophecies foretold, and all wuz Harry, Harry, Harry. - -Wall, I see Miss Dean kep’ a-lookin’ at the clock, though I told her it -lacked three hours of train time. But in the same cause of politeness I -had held up through the day I sent Ury off a hour before it wuz time, -and in due time he come back bearin’ a letter. - -He brung it up to the stoop and handed it to the elder. - -[Illustration: As the Elder took it he turned pale.] - -As the elder took it he turned pale--white as a piece of white cotton -shirt, and sez he-- - -“This is not Harry’s hand!” - -Miss Dean jest leaped forward and ketched holt of his hand. - -“What is it? Not Harry’s writin’, what does it mean?” - -Wall, when the letter wuz opened, we found what it meant. - -Dead! dead! That bright young life, full of hope and beauty and -promise, had been cut down like a worthless weed by the infamous -practice of Hazin’. - -Gentlemen’s sons, young men who had had every means of civilization at -their command, had committed the brutality of a savage. Young men of -riches, education, culture, position, they had committed this murder -jest for wanton fun. They had called him out of his bed at midnight on -a false errent, locked him out of his room for hours, poured a lot of -icy water on him; he, shiverin’ with his almost naked limbs, had plead -in vain for help. - -Where wuz his Ma and Pa at this time? Asleep and dreamin’ of him, -mebby. - -A congestive chill had attackted the weak lungs, and in two days he wuz -dead. - -One of the pupils not engaged in it, in deep sympathy and pity, writ -the hull thing out to the bereaved parents. - -We carried ’em home and helped ’em out of the democrat--helped ’em to -walk into the house, for they couldn’t walk alone. We sot him down -under a picter of Harry that had fresh flowers under it--laid her on a -couch covered with the woosted work she wuz a-makin’ for him, and took -care on ’em as well as we could while they waited for Harry to come -home. - -Oh dear me! Oh dear suz!!! - -I can’t tell nothin’ about that time. My pen trembles, jest as my heart -duz, when I try to write about it. - -I’m a-goin’ to hang up a black bumbazeen curtain between the reader and -that seen for the next few days. Reader, it is best for you that I do -it--you couldn’t stand it if I didn’t. - -The curtain ort to be crape, but crape, though all right in the line of -mournin’, is pretty thin for the purpose--you might see through it. - -But I will jest lift up a corner on’t a few days later to show you -another coffin, with the broken-hearted mother a-layin’ in it, with a -broken-down old man bendin’ over it alone, waitin’ for the summons to -jine ’em in another country. - -One victim buried, another victim layin’ in the coffin, another victim, -most to be pitied of all, a-stayin’ on here alone in a dark world -a-waitin’ for the end. - -Gay, light-hearted young man, havin’ a good time at college--sowin’ -your wild oats--havin’ royal good fun, what do you think of the end of -that night’s jollity? - -Al Faizi couldn’t understand it. Sez he to me-- - -“His murderers will be hanged, will they not?” - -“Hung!” sez I in astonishment; “oh, no! this is merely Hazin’--college -fun for young gentlemen.” - -“Gentlemen!” sez he. “Do gentlemen murder in your country? Why, your -missionaries tell our people that if they murder they must be hanged in -this world and eternally punished in the next.” - -“But,” sez I, “these young gentlemen were simply havin’ a little fun!” -My tone wuz as bitter as wormwood and gaul, and he see it. - -“Has such a thing ever been done before in this country?” sez he. - -“Oh, yes!” sez I (wormwood and gaul still saturating my axents); “it -is very common--it is always practised. Sometimes the victims are -only frightened to death and maimed and made idiots and invalids of; -sometimes they don’t die so soon; but then, agin,” sez I, “they die fur -quicker--sometimes, when the young gentlemen want to be extra funny, -and use some deadly gas, their victim dies to once, right under their -hands.” - -“But don’t the Government interfere to punish such dreadful deeds?” - -“Oh, no!” sez I; “the Government has its hands too full a-grantin’ -licenses and sech, sellin’ the stuff that helps to make these -disgraceful seens.” - -“Well, do not men and women rise and punish such deeds themselves?” - -“Oh, no!” sez I; “wimmen are considered too feeble-minded to pass any -jedgment on sech doin’s--they’re considered by the college professors -and presidents, as a general thing, as too weak-minded and volatile to -take in a college education, and men are kep’ pretty busy a-bringin’ up -arguments to keep wimmen in their place. - -“Of course, no sech doin’s ever took place in a woman’s college. They -generally spend their time in learnin’, and don’t riot round and act, -and that itself is considered, I believe, an evidence that wimmen are -inheriently weak and not really fitted for the higher education. It is, -I believe, considered a damagin’ evidence agin her powers of mind to -think she don’t have no hankerin’ to spend her college days a-gittin’ -up the reputation of a prizefighter and a boat-swain, and had ruther -spend her time a-bringin’ out the strength of her mind and soul instead -of her muscles.” - -Sez I, “Take that with her refusal to kill and maim and torture her -fellow students by Hazin’, and her dislike to cigarettes, drinkin’, -etc.--take ’em all together, though she carries off prizes right and -left for learnin’ and good behavior, yet these weaknesses of hern in -refusin’ to jine in such upliftin’ exercises, tells agin her dretfully -in the eyes of the male world!” - -Oh! how the wormword showed in my axent as I spoke. - -“Of all the strange things which I have seen in your strange country,” -sez Al Faizi, “this is one of the strangest--a civilized nation -practising such barbarities!” - -And he took out that little book with the cross on’t and writ for a -quarter of an hour, and I d’no but more. - -Wall, the days went along, one after another, as days will, droppin’ -off, droppin’ off the rosary Time counts its beads on, and the time -pretty near elapsted for us to embark on our trip to Europe. - -The tickets wuz bought, the nightcaps wuz packed, and the time drawed -near. - -But as the time aproached, the thought of the deepness of the water in -the Atlantic growed more and more apparient to me. - -[Illustration: I took down my old Atlas.] - -I took down my old Atlas and Gography from the cupboard over the suller -way and poured over ’em, and sithed, and sithed and poured. - -The distance looked fearful between shore and shore, and my reason told -me, also experience, that the reality wuz jest as much worse as black -water is worse than yeller paper. - -The ocean wuz painted on this old Atlas bright yeller. - -And the last time Al Faizi came back from quite a long trip he had took -to Washington and New York he found me a-pourin’ over the old Atlas; -while the nightcaps and dressin’-gown, all done up, lay on a stand by -my side. - -As I mentioned more formally, I’d made a nice flannel dressin’-gown -for myself, and it satisfied my desires for comfort and also my pride; -though I didn’t act over it as my pardner did over hisen. No; a sense -of dignity and propriety restrained me. - -I cut it out by my nightgown pattern and made it fuller--it looked -well. It wuz a brown and red stripe, tied down in front with lute -string ribbin, that I paid as high as 14 cents a yard for, and thought -it none too good for the occasion; I thought in case of a panick at -sea, and I had to appear in it, I wouldn’t begrech the outlay for the -ribbin. - -And then, agin, seein’ we wuzn’t to any extra expense for the voyage, -I thought it wuzn’t extravagant in us to lanch out in clothes, or that -is, lanch out some in ’em, not too fur. - -For I didn’t believe in goin’ through Europe follered by a dray full of -trunks. - -No; I felt that two large satchels, that we could carry ourselves, wuz -what the occasion demanded. - -That wuz our first thought, though we afterwards decided to take a -trunk. - -Of course I took my mantilly, with tabs. It wuz jest as good as it ever -wuz, and a big woollen shawl to wear when it wuz cold on the steamer. -And my good, honorable bunnet, with my usual green baize veil to drape -it gracefully on the left side. - -My umbrell, it is needless to say, occupied its usual place in my -outfit--protection from storms and tramps and other dangers, and it -could also be used for a cane. - -Noble utensil! I would have felt lost indeed to have missed it from -its accustomed place at my right hand. - -As I say, Al Faizi come back and found us engrossed in preperations and -study. - -I with my Atlas, and Josiah carefully brushin’ his dressin’-gown, -though there wuzn’t a speck of dust on it, and a-smoothin’ out them -tossels. - -We wuz a-makin’ our last preperations, for it only lacked about six -weeks of the time when we wuz to embark. Our satchels stood all -unlocked, with the keys fastened to ’em with good strong weltin’ cord, -so’s we wouldn’t have to hunt for the keys at the last minute. Some -long letters for the relations on both sides lay on Josiah’s desk, to -be sent after our departure; they wuz dretful affectin’ letters; we -thought more’n as like as not they would bring tears. - -And as Al Faizi come in and witnessed our hasty preperations, he -announced in that calm way of hisen that he would go with us. - -For a minute I wuz dumfoundered, and knew not whether I wuz tickled to -death at the proposal, or felt sorry and meachin’ over it. - -I felt queer. - -Sez Al Faizi, “I come to your land expecting I hardly know what. - -“My heart had been touched by learning of your holy religion. I had -accepted the teachings of the blessed Lord Christ with all my heart -and soul; warmed by His love, I come to your country to learn what -that Divine religion would be amongst the people who had followed His -teachings eighteen hundred years, and had no false religion to paralyze -its power----and now--” - -“Wall,” sez I, for Al Faizi paused for a good while, not a-lookin’ mad, -nor pert, nor anythin’, but jest earnest and some sad, and very quiet. - -“Now what?” sez I. - -He didn’t say nothin’. He looked as if he wuz afraid of hurtin’ -somebody’s feelin’s; but at last he said in that soft, melodious voice -of hisen-- - -“Now, I should like to go to other lands.” - -I felt fearful meachin’, and showed it, I spoze, to have a Hindoo come -here and git disgusted with our ways, for I mistrusted that he wuz, -though he didn’t say so out plain. And there wuzn’t a shadder of blame -on his face; jest calm and earnest, jest as he always had been, and -always would be, so fur as I could tell. - -He couldn’t find Truth and Jestice here, and so he wuz for follerin’ -off on their trail over the Atlantic. - -I felt queer as a dog, but Josiah hailed the idee with joy. He seemed -highly tickled to have one more ingregient of curosity added to our -cavalcade. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE EMBARKATION. - - -And so it wuz settled, and Martin bein’ writ to to git another ticket, -he got it, and sent it in a letter to us. But what he would say when he -see the passenger who wuz goin’ to use it I knew not, but I knew that -Alice and Adrian wuz good-natered, and would feel as I did about usin’ -folks well. And then I remembered that complaint in Martin’s eyes, and -felt that if he didn’t take to Al Faizi, he would most probble be so -near-sighted that he couldn’t see him much, if any. - -And so it turned out (to go ahead of the wagon a spell, or, ruther, to -paddle backwards a few furlongs), after the first conversation Martin -held with him, and see what his bizness wuz over here in America and -wuz a-goin’ to be in Europe--Martin’s eyes wuz so bad that he couldn’t -see him hardly ever. - -But Alice wuz sweet and courteous to him, and Adrian liked him -dretfully from the first. And Al Faizi, when he first see Alice’s sweet -face, he stood stun still for more’n quite a spell. - -And on his dark, handsome face dawned a look sech as a man might have -who had been walkin’ a considerable time through a underground way, -who had come out full in view of the mornin’ sun a-risin’ up on a June -world. - -I d’no as anybody noticed that look but jest me; I don’t believe they -did, for Martin wuz talkin’ to Josiah in a dretful kind and patronizin’ -way, and Alice wuz all took up a-lookin’ with her heart’s eye on the -land where her prince reigned. - -And Adrian wuz, as I say, dretful took up with Al Faizi, and see -nothin’ in his dark, expressive face only what he looked for, and what -he found in it from day to day all through our tower--the good nater -of a patient comrade, who loved him for his own bright, winnin’ little -self, and loved him more for the sake of another, whose heart’s joy -Adrian wuz. - -Martin’s eye complaint seemed to be real bad so fur as the noble -heathen wuz concerned. - -I guess Al Faizi, in the first conversation he had with him, tackled -him in the everlastin’ cause of jestice, and pity, and mercy--subjects -that Martin hain’t “_o fay_” in (that is French. I seldom use foreign -languages, but I’ve hearn Maggie use it considerable, and know it is -lawful). - -No; Martin and Al Faizi looked on this earth and the things of life -with sech different pairs of eyes that I d’no as they could be said to -look on this old planet on the same side. - -Al Faizi looked on the deep side of subjects. He looked fur down under -the outside current to try to discern the hidden springs, from whence -these clear and turbid torrents flowed. - -If he found a spring that yielded black water, his first thought wuz to -give warnin’ and try to dam it up. - -Martin would try to keep it a-humpin’, so’s to utilize it--sell the mud -that flowed from it, mebby. - -Al Faizi’s gaze pierced through the clouds of earth, and rested on the -gold pinnacles of Heaven. - -Martin clutched handfuls of the gold ore of earth and held it clost to -his eyes, and so shet out the sight of the Heavenly City. - -One wuz honestly a-tryin’ to sweep away utterly the vile sperits of -ignorance, evil, and want, etc., etc. Martin wuz for catchin’ ’em and -hitchin’ ’em to his lawn-mower, to keep the lawn smooth round the house -of his earthly tabernacle. - -Curous extremes as ever met, I believe, and as interestin’ to witness -from day to day as the most costly and curous menagerie of wild animals -would be. - -But, as I said, Martin’s eyes bein’ formed in jest that way, he wuzn’t -able to hardly see the noble heathen after that first interview. - -Wall, to go back to the wagon agin and proceed onwards with my history, -or paddle back to the steamer. - -At last the last minute come--Ury and Philury had took us to the cars -and been shooken by the hands, and amidst fervent good-byes had been -adjured over and over about the necessity of keepin’ the cat out of the -milk room, and the gate shet between the garden and paster, etc., etc., -etc., etc., etc., etc., etc. - -And they had promised faithfully to adhere to our wishes, and to advise -us of the results in weekly letters. - -We let ’em move right in and have half of everything--butter, cheese, -eggs, wool, black caps, etc. And they wuz highly tickled as well as we. - -Thomas Jefferson and Maggie had gone with us to the station, where -Whitfield and Tirzah Ann put in a late appearance, on account of -Tirzah’s bein’ ondecided whether to wear a thick or a thin dress; the -day bein’ one of them curous ones when you don’t really know whether it -will be hazy or warm. - -And they’d come in time to kiss us and clasp our hands in partin’. - -[Illustration: In time to kiss us and clasp our hands in partin’.] - -The girls both brought bokays with ’em, and Babe, the darlin’, brought -a bunch of English violets to send to Adrian, knowin’ that he jest -worshipped that posy--and it’s one of my favorites, too. Wall, the -last words wuz said to us, Al Faizi had made his last low bow to the -children, and said the last polite, melodious adieu, and we embarked on -to the cars. - -But I looked back, and I see Tirzah Ann a-wrestlin’ with her polynay, -that had got ketched into her parasol, and Whitfield a-helpin’ her to -ondo herself. - -And I see Maggie’s sweet, upward look to the car winder, and met the -clear, affectionate, comprehendin’ look of my boy, Thomas Jefferson. - -It is curous how well acquainted our sperits be with each other, hisen -and mine, and always has been, from the time when he sot on my lap as a -child. Our souls are clost friends, and would be if he wuzn’t no kin to -me. - -He is a young man of a thousand, and he understands my mind without my -speakin’, and I do hisen. - -But to resoom. It had been arranged that we should proceed directly to -a hotel that wuz nigh to the Atlantic, and Martin should call for us -there, his own residence bein’ in a opposite direction. - -We did so, and after a good meal--and we all did jestice to it, bein’ -hungry--a big carriage driv up, and Martin alighted from it and come -in. - -Anon we embarked in it, and after a seen of almost indescribable -tumult, owin’ to the screamin’ of drivers, the conflict of passin’ -wagons and carriages and dray carts, etc., etc., etc., etc. - -And after numerous givin’s up on my part that now indeed wuz the time I -wuz to “likewise perish,” we found ourselves on the big steamer’s deck -that wuz to bear us away from our own native land. - -Lots of folks wuz there a-takin’ leave of friends. Some wuz weepin’, -some wuz laughin’, some wuz talkin’, and that las’ some wuz multiplied -by hundreds and thousands, seemin’ly. - -And piles of flowers lay round, offerin’s to and from fond hearts that -must sever. - -Adrian had his bunch of sweet blue violets, and the violets wuzn’t any -sweeter than his eyes. And I, even at the resk of losin’ my umbrell, -clutched my precious bokays--the frail links that seemed to connect me -with my own native Jonesville and my loved ones there. - -Josiah seemed to be lookin’ round for somebody he could scrape -acquaintance with. - -And Al Faizi stood in that silent way of hisen, with his dark, ardent -face seemin’ly on the lookout for sunthin’ or other he could learn, and -a-seein’ every move that Alice made, as I could see, though nobody else -noticed it. - -Martin wuz a-flyin’ round, busy a-seein’ to everything. Alice wuz a -little apart a-bendin’ over the side of the great ship. She seemed to -be lookin’ intently on sunthin’ or somebody on the pier, and as we -sailed off I see her snowy handkerchief wave out, and where she’d been -a-lookin’ I see an arm lifted up and another white handkerchief wave -out a farewell. - -[Illustration: Her big blue eyes wuz full of tears.] - -When I looked clost at her, I see that her big blue eyes wuz full of -tears. - -As for me, I wuz tryin’ my best to keep my equilibrum, for the boat -tosted some, and my equilibrum hain’t what it would be if it hadn’t had -the rheumatiz so much. - -But my umbrell helped me some; I planted it down and leaned heavy on -it, and in its faithful companionship and support I found some relief -as I see the land sail swift away from me, seemin’ to be in a hurry to -go somewhere. - -And I sez in my heart--“Good-bye, dear old Land! you no need to be in -sech a hurry to go back and dissapear in the distance; no truer lover -did you ever have than she who now witnesses your swift departure,” and -even in my reverie wantin’ to be exact, I added--“she whose name wuz -once Smith.” - -Quite a while did I stand there until Reason and also Josiah told me -that I had better seek my state-room. - -I don’t find no fault with that room, it probble wuzn’t its fault that -the narrer walls riz up so many times, and seemed to hit me in my head -and stomach, specially the stomach, and then anon turn round with me, -and teeter, and bow down, and hump up, and act. - -No; the little room wuzn’t to blame, and my sufferin’s with Josiah -Allen for the three days when he lay, as he said, in a dyin’ state, -right over my head-- - -I a-sufferin’ twice over--once in myself and agin in my other and more -fraxious and worrisome self. - -The wild demeanors, the groans, the frenzied exclamations, and anon the -faint and die-away actions of that man can’t never be described upon, -and if it could, it would make readin’ that no man would want to read, -nor no woman neither. - -But after a long interval, in which, while I wuz a-layin’, a-tryin’ in -a agonized way to think how I wanted my effects distributed amongst the -survivors--I would be called away from that contemplation to receive -my pardner’s last wills and testaments, and I heard anon or oftener, -spoke in solemn axents-- - -“Bury me in the dressin’-gown, Samantha.” - -He clung to that idee, even in his lowest and most sinkin’est moments. - -I reached up, or tried to, and took holt of his limp hand that dangled -down over my head, and I sez-- - -“You will live, Josiah, to wear it out.” - -And as feeble as he wuz, and as much as he had wanted to die, them -words would seem to sooth him some, and be a paneky to him. - -I repeated ’em often, for they seemed to impress him where more -affectionate and moral arguments failed. - -But I may as well hang up a double rep curtain between my hearers and -the fearful seens that wuz enacted in our state-rooms for nearly three -days and nights. - -I hang a rep curtain, so’s it would shelter the seens more; cretonne is -too thin. - -But some of the seens are so agonizin’ and sharp pinted that they seem -to pierce even through that envelopin’ drapery. - -One of them dagger-like episodes wuz of the fog horns. - -If Josiah’s testementary idees and our united wretchedness would have -let me doze off some in rare intervals, the tootin’ of them horns would -be sure to roust me up. - -Yes, they made the night dretful--ringin’ of bells, tootin’ of horns, -etc. - -And once, it wuz along in the latter part of the night, I guess, I -heard a loud cry a-risin’ above the fog horn. It seemed to be a female -in distress. - -And Josiah wuz all rousted up in a minute. - -And sez he--“Some female is in distress, Samantha! Where is my -dressin’-gown?” Sez he, “I will go to her rescue!” And he rung the bell -wildly for the stewardess, and acted. - -Sez I--“Josiah Allen, come back to bed! no woman ever yelled so loud -as that and lived! If it is a female she’s beyend your help now.” And -I curdled down in bed agin, though I felt queer and felt dretful sorry -for her; but felt that indeed that yell must have been her last, and -that she wuz now at rest. - -But he wuz still wildly arrangin’ his gown, and hollerin’ for the -tossels--they’d slipped off from it. - -“Where is them dum tossels?” he yelled; “must I hear a female yell like -that and not fly to her rescue? Where is the tossels?” he yelled agin. -“You don’t seem to have no heart, Samantha, or you’d be rousted up!” - -“I am rousted up!” sez I; “yes, indeed, I have been rousted up ever -sence I laid my head onto my piller; but if you wuz so anxious to help -and save, Josiah, you wouldn’t wait for tossels!” - -But at that minute, simultaneous and to once, the chambermaid come to -the door, and he found his tossels. - -“Who is that female a-screamin’?” sez Josiah, a-tyin’ the cord in a big -bow-knot. - -“That is the Syren,” sez she. And she slammed the door and went back; -she wuz mad to be waked up for that. - -“The Syren!” sez Josiah; “what did I tell you, Samantha?” And sez he, -a-smoothin’ out the tossels, “I wouldn’t have missed the sight for a -dollar bill! How lucky I found my tossels!” sez he. - -“Yes, dretful lucky,” sez I faintly, for I wuz wore completely out by -my long night watches, and I felt fraxious. - -“Yes,” sez he, “I wouldn’t have appeared before a Syren without them -red tossels for no money. I always wanted to see a Syren!” sez he, -a-smoothin’ out the few hairs on each side of his cranium. - -Sez he, “She wuz probble a-screamin’ for her lookin’-glass and comb; -I’ll go to once on deck. It is a bad night; if she has missed her comb, -I might lend her my pocket-comb,” sez he. - -“You let Syrens alone, Josiah Allen!” sez I, gittin’ rousted up; “you -don’t want to meddle with ’em at all! and do you come back to bed.” - -“Not at all,” sez he; “here is the chance of my lifetime. I’ve always -wanted to see a Syren, and now I’m a-goin’ to!” - -And he reached up to a peg and took down his tall plug hat, and put it -on kinder to the side of his head in as rakish a lookin’ way as you -ever see a deacon’s hat in the world; he then took his umbrell and -started for the door. - -[Illustration: Then took his umbrell and started for the door.] - -Agin come that loud and fearful yell; it did, indeed, seem to be a -female in direst agony. - -“But,” I sez, “I don’t believe that’s any Syren, Josiah Allen; we read -that her voice lures sailors to foller her; no sailor would be lured by -that voice, it is enough to scare anybody and drive ’em back, instead -of forrered. - -“What occasion would a Syren have to yell in sech a blood-curdlin’ way, -Josiah Allen?” - -“Wall,” sez he, put to his wits’ end, “mebby her hair is all snarled up -by the wind and salt water, and in yankin’ out the snarls, it hurts her -so that she yells.” - -I see the common sense of this, for the first night I had used soap -and salt water my hair stood out like quills on my head, and it almost -killed me to comb it out. “But,” sez I, “Syrens are used to wind storms -and salt water. I don’t spoze their hair is like other folkses.” - -Agin come that fearful, agonizin’ yell. - -Agin Josiah sez--“While we are a-bandyin’ words back and forth, I am -losin’ the sight,” and agin he made for the door. - -But I follered him and ketched holt of the tossels. - -He paused to once. He feared they would be injured. - -Sez I, “Come back to bed; how it would look in the Jonesville paper to -hear that Josiah Allen had been lured overboard by a Syren, for they -always try to drown men, Josiah!” sez I. - -“Oh, shaw!” sez he; “they never had me to deal with. I should stand -still and argy with her--I always convince the more opposite sect,” sez -he, lookin’ vain. - -But I see the allusion to drowndin’ made him hesitate, and sez he-- - -“You don’t spoze there is any danger of that, do you, Samantha? I would -give a dollar bill to tell old Gowdey and Uncle Sime Bentley that I’d -interviewed a Syren!” sez he. “It would make me a lion, Samantha, and -you a lioness.” - -“I shan’t be made any animal whatsoever, Josiah Allen, by follerin’ up -a Syren at this time of night. They never did anything but harm, from -their grandmothers’ days down, and men have always been fooled and -drownded by ’em!” sez I; “you let Syrens alone and come to bed,” sez I; -“you’re a perfessor and a grandfather, Josiah Allen, and I’d try to act -becomin’ to both on em,” sez I. - -He fingered the red tossels lovin’ly. - -“Sech a chance,” sez he, “mebby I never shall have agin. I don’t spoze -any man who ever parlied with ’em wuz ever so dressy in his appearance, -and so stylish--no knowin’ what would come of it!” sez he. He hated to -give up the idee. - -“Wall,” sez I, “it’s rainin’ as hard as it can; them tossels never -would come out flossy and beautiful agin, they would all be limped and -squashed down and spilte.” - -“Do you think so?” sez he anxiously. - -He took off his hat and put down his umbrell, and sez he--“It may be as -well to not foller the investigation to-night; there will probble be a -chance in fairer weather.” - -But the next day we found out that the Syren wuz a thing they fixed -onto the fog horn for certain signals, and Josiah felt glad enough that -he hadn’t made no moves to talk with her. - -I wuz glad on the side of common sense. He on the account of them -tossels. - -But after we found out what it wuz, and all about it, that fog horn -made us feel dretful lonesome and queer when we heard it, half -asleep and half awake. It would seem as if one half of our life wuz -a-hollerin’ out to the other half. - -Youth and middle age a-callin’ out to each other---- - -“Loss! loss!” and “Gain! gain!” as the case might be. - -Jonesville and London, “Yell! yell!” - -Love! peace! death! danger! “Shriek! shriek!” - -Them you love who wuz here on earth, and them who’d gone over the Great -Flood, “Shout! shout!” - -“Ship ahoy! What hail!” - -Queer sounds as I ever hearn floated in on them high yells, borne by -the winds and the washin’ waves of ocean depths and the misty billows -from Sleep Land, broken up some as they drifted and mixed with the -billows of our own realm. - -But daylight would always seem to calm down this tumult and bring more -lusid and practical idees. - -Wall, the time come when we tottered up on deck, two pale, thin -figgers, to be confronted by other faces that wuz as wan, and some that -wuz wanner. - -[Illustration: We tottered up on deck, two pale, thin figgers.] - -But after these days we begun to feel first-rate. Alice and Adrian had -had a hard time of it, so I had learned before from the stewardess. And -I’d sent ’em lovin’ messages time and agin, and they me. - -Martin, I don’t believe, had a minute’s sickness, nor Al Faizi. They -both seemed to be real chipper; though they both seemed to be perfect -strangers to each other; and I spoze they wuz and will be to all -eternity--even if they wuz settin’ on the same seat on high. - -Their two souls hain’t made right to ever be intimate with each other. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -LANDING IN THE EMERALD ISLE. - - -Wall, after all, as much as I wuz afraid of the deepness and length and -breadth of the ocean, I had a pretty good time, after all. - -Somehow, I got to feelin’ that the ship wuz a big city, and I got to -feelin’ as if it wuz about as safe as the land. - -We d’no what is a-goin’ on under us on land--no, indeed, we don’t, and -if we git to forgittin’ it, we often git a shake-up and a hunch from -old Mom Nater to let us know that we are entirely ignorant of what -she’s a-doin’ down in the depths of the earth. - -Yes, we git shook up with earthquakes, or cyclones lift us up and sweep -us off, and hurricanes and water-spouts are abroad, and cars break -down, and horses throw us out of wagons, etc., etc. - -I’d bring up these consolin’ thoughts a sight when I’d be a-layin’ on -my narrer piller and a-thinkin’ that only a few boards wuz between me -and--what? And I’d kinder shudder and turn over, and try to forgit it. - -How cold the water wuz and how deep, and how lonesome it would be -a-sinkin’ down, and down, and down, and how big the shark’s mouth wuz, -and how the cold, bitter, chokin’ waves would wash anythin’ to and fro -like a piece of weed, and sweep one so fur off and so fur down that it -didn’t seem as if the Angel of the Resurrection could ever find us! - -But I spoze he could. - -It stands to reason that we could as well be found in a shark as in -some poseys that grow up from the dust of our body, and whose perfume -exhale in the mornin’ dew goin’ up to the clouds, fallin’ in rain, and -goin’ through countless forms before the resurrection. - -Oh! did I not bring up all these thoughts anon or oftener? And did I -not say to myself, time and agin, for my comfort and consolation, “The -One who formed me out of nothin’ is able to reform me.” Yes, my best -comfort wuz to ask the One who careth for ’em who go down to the sea in -ships to care for me, and to rest in that thought. - -To lay down in the depths of that wide love and care and repose myself -in it. - -Wall, we had a pretty good time on board. There wuz lots of different -kinds of folks there, jest as there always is on land. - -I had hearn that there wuz a live English Lord on board, and Josiah -picked him out the first time we went on deck. - -Yes, there he wuz, as we spozed, a tall, slim, supercilious-actin’ and -lookin’ feller, who ordered round the ship’s crew, and wuz dissatisfied -with his food, and snubbed the ocean, and felt that it hadn’t no need -to breathe so loud, and looked askance at the Heavens if the day wuz -dull. - -Yes, he looked down on everybody and everything. And Josiah sez--“He -can’t help it, he wuz brung up that way; he is a Lord.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “Lord or not, he acts like a fool!” Sez I, “He might -lower his nose once in awhile to rest it.” - -Truly, he held it right up in the air the hull of the time. - -But come to find out, that feller wuz a Grocer’s clerk, who wuz -a-makin’ his first trip, and felt as if Heaven and earth wuz a-watchin’ -and admirin’ his move. - -And the Lord we found out wuz a short, square-built man, dressed in -rough tweed, so jolly and full of fun that his wife had to hold him -back all the time. - -She would have been glad to had him put on some dignity and things, but -he wouldn’t. - -[Illustration: The lord with a pink paper suit on.] - -One night some pretty American girls give a dance, and they handed -round some little favors that looked like big nuts, and when you opened -’em a hull tissue-paper suit come out on ’em, and that Lord come out -with a pink paper suit on, and went round through the dance half bent, -for the skirt wuz but short, with a woman’s ruffled cap on, and a dress. - -His wife seemed to suffer agonies. Her pride ached, I spozed. But his -didn’t; he wuz as happy as a lark, and didn’t put on any more airs than -any common medder lark would. - -I liked him first-rate, but that clerk wuz austere and exclusive to the -last. He wouldn’t mingle with us. - -He wuz a-travellin’ abroad. And, to use a common adage, usually applied -to horses--“He felt his oats.” - -Wall, they got up a paper on board and printed it on a typewriter--the -Lord furnishin’ most of the jokes for it. - -And then they had a peanut-party, and the Lord carried the most of -anybody on the back of his hand and got the prize--3 long strings of -glass beads, and he wore ’em all the evenin’, to his wife’s horrow. - -But the clerk, whose father kep’ a peanut-stand, and who had dwelt with -’em all the days of his youth, he thought it wuz a vulgar party, and -he looked at peanuts as if he knew ’em not. - -There wuz times when the sea wuz rough, and Josiah and I retired to the -cabin, and for hours bemoaned our fate and wondered if we should ever -agin see the cliffs of Jonesville. - -And on one heavey day, when the floor of our cell seemed to rise up and -smite us in the pits of our stumicks, Josiah made his will, and handed -it to me, with a face on which love and agony and fear appeared, about -a third of each on ’em. - -Sez he, in a voice tremblin’ with emotion--“Take my last tribute of -love, and,” sez he, “have it recorded, or it may be broke.” - -“But,” sez I, “dear Josiah”--for his love awoke my own; it had been -havin’ a nap while I wuz a-wrestlin’ with the elements, and furniture -that wuz a-tryin’ to upset me. - -Sez I--“If you die, I, too, shall perish. So what avails a will?” - -He hadn’t thought of that, and sez he, a-speakin’ out feebly from his -bunk with his eyes shet-- - -“You’re fat; you may float,” sez he; “my prize shoat did that slipped -out of the wagon fordin’ the creek.” - -Sez I, in the same faint axents--truly our two voices wuz as feeble as -a pair of feeble cats, and weaker--sez I, “I always said you would twit -me of my heft on your death-bed if the subject come up, and you had -your conscientiousness.” - -Sez he, “I’ve showed my love to you--I have left you everything -onconditional. You can marry agin.” Sez he, “This is no time for -selfishness and jealousy.” - -“Marry agin!” sez I feebly; “what do I want of another pardner? Heaven -knows, I don’t know!” - -“Wall,” says he tenderly, for my words touched him--“you may feel -different when you hain’t so sick to your stumick.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “and you may, too!” - -He had never made a will before that left me onhampered, and I felt -that when his legs wuz firmer under him, and his stumick and head wuz -steadier, that he, too, might undergo a change. - -And he did. - -It wuz a bright, calm day. He felt well, and I see him the next mornin’ -a furtively tearin’ up that will and a-strewin’ the torn bits out of -the port-hole winder. - -As he did so his hands got entangled in a cord I’d made out of weltin’ -cord. - -And sez he, a-lookin’ down onto it--“In the name of the gracious Peter! -what is this?” - -He thought in a minute of rope ladders and troubadors--he acted jealous. - -Sez I, “It is some handkerchiefs that I am a-washin’ in the Atlantic -Ocean, Josiah.” - -He didn’t know I wuz awake, and it startled him. And sez he-- - -“How did you ever come to think on’t?” - -“I d’no,” sez I; “but I thought it would be sunthin’ to think on, to -say I had used the Atlantic for a washtub.” - -Sez he--“Wash one of mine, Samantha. I’d love to tell Deacon Garvin -on’t.” - -Sez I--“Your second best bandanna is on the line.” - -He looked down onto the heavin’ billows with content, and sez he--“I’m -as hungry as a bear.” - -That mornin’ the sea lay calm and beautiful. The sun riz up on it and -flooded it with delicious waves of color; the east wuz a flame of -color, and the crest of the heavin’ billows wuz aflame with gold and -crimson and amethyst, and fur off some tall icebergs loomed up like -cold, pale ghosts, a-hantin’ us with a vague sense of danger, like the -undertone of sadness that underlays all things the most beautiful and -grand. - -Then there wuz moonlight evenin’s, when the moon shone down full and -clear, and the glorified sky and the glorified water seemed to be a -part of each other, and the long and deep rythm of the waves seemed to -bear us up with ’em in a grand hymn that all creation wuz a-chantin’. - -And then there wuz misty days, when clouds of fog settled down round -us like gray, mysterious wings, a-holdin’ us clost in their folds of -mystery, when we knew not what wuz a yard in front of us; when we -sailed on, blind creeters, not a-knowin’ what we wuz a-comin’ bunt up -aginst--a iceberg, or another ship, or jest the open space ahead. When -the cries of the fog-horn seemed to be a-hollerin’ out-- - -“Git out of the way, we’re a-comin’!” - -But how could a iceberg hear and wheel round? No, it hadn’t come down -from the pole for no sech a purpose, it wuz a-goin’ straight ahead. - -Them wuz solemn times, and we would think that we couldn’t never forgit -’em. - -But we did. When the sun shone bright agin, we wuz ready to forgit the -sorrer and danger of the night and be happy agin. And at times, fur off -on the fur, watery plain--fur off ahead, we would see a sail. - -Nearer and nearer it would come, and then go by us and dissapear in -the horizen back of us--meetin’ and partin’ at some distance without a -word; some like human bein’s goin’ by each other on the ocean of Life. -Separate worlds full of human life and interest meetin’ and partin’, -floatin’ by onbeknown. - -I took a strange and a mysterious comfort sometimes a-bendin’ over the -sides of the ship and lookin’ fur down into the depths of the water and -a-seein’ huge forms a-playin’ down in their strange, green depths, or -imaginin’ I could. And I took a kind of dretful enjoyment a-ponderin’ -on what would foller on and ensue if I should fall off and plunge down -into the liquid depths. But them thoughts wuz too full of or to indulge -in long. They driv me back to the side of my beloved pardner, or the -society of little Adrian and Alice. - -Adrian knew everybody on board, and everybody loved him. But, above -all, he liked a sailor called Mike. From all I could learn, that seaman -racked his brain to tell all sorts of wild sea stories to the child. - -I d’no as I’ve told about Josiah’s appetite durin’ that voyage. -My pardner’s appetite wuz always a strong subject, but now it wuz -exceedingly queer. - -After he got over his seasickness, most the first words he said, and -they come right after his “good-by” and partin’ words to me, though -some time after--he waked up out of a deep sleep, and the first words -he said to me wuz, in middlin’ feeble axents-- - -“Do you spoze, Samantha, I could git a little biled beef and cabbage, -and some pork and beans?” - -He had been a-livin’ on water gruel, and the words almost startled -me. But I obtained the ingregients with some trouble, and as I bore -them in, a large platter full of each, he looked up dretful feeble and -languishin’, and sez he-- - -“Set ’em down by the bed, Samantha, and mebby I could eat a bean, or -part of one.” - -“Part of one bean” didn’t sound very encouragin’, but I set ’em down, -and the next time I see them platters, about ten minutes afterwards, -they wuz both clean as though they had been swept and garnished. - -And from that minute he gained on’t. My own first hankerin’ after I got -better wuz for a biled dinner. Of course, I couldn’t git that, but I -exchanged milk porridge for roast pork, and sassige, and cabbage hot -slaw the first thing, and felt satisfied and happy with the change. - -Curous, hain’t it? If I’d been on land I believe they would a-killed -me, but I thrived on the diet. - -Wall, I never shall forgit how good the land looked to me as I looked -fur forrerds over the heavin’ billows of blue, and see the beautiful -green shores of Queenstown a-risin’ up ahead. - -Adrian said, “Auntie, is that the Emerald Isle, and are the hills all -covered with emeralds, like Alice’s ring?” Sez he, “Mike told me they -were.” - -Sez I, “Don’t you pay any attention to what Mike sez. The hills are -jest covered with soft, green grass that would look enough sight better -to me than any jewelled stuns would.” - -Al Faizi stood motionless, lookin’ on the fair seen ahead, as if he wuz -a-lookin’ over the Swellin’s of Jordan into the Promised Land; part of -the time that riz up look rested on Alice’s sweet face. - -Alice and Martin wuz a-walkin’ arm-in-arm up and down the deck, as much -took up with the sight as we wuz, only Martin thought it looked more -wise to not act tickled and enthuastick about it. - -That is the first rule in etiket with some folks, to not act tickled -and glad about anything, but to look as stunny and onmoved at a -masterpiece of Art, or a towerin’ Alp, as at a plate of cold ham. - -Josiah, he wuz a-worryin’ about the tug that wuz to take us on shore. - -“A tug!” sez he; “I don’t like that name, it don’t sound reliable. If -it is a good convenience, why is it sech a tug to it to carry us?” - -Sez I, “Be calm, Josiah, everything will come out right.” - -And sez he, “One of the passengers called it a ‘tender.’ If it is so -tender, I don’t believe it is safe. Tenderness means weakness,” says he. - -“Not always,” sez I, “quite the reverse.” But I see that it wuz no time -to plunge into metaphysicks and prove to him what I knew well, that -“the bravest are the tenderest--the lovin’ are the darin’.” - -Then sez he, “If we ever live to git into that tug, we have got to have -our baggage all overhauled by the Custom House Officers.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “what of it? We hain’t nothin’ to conceal or cover up.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “that dressin’-gown of mine will jest as likely as not -be all throwed round and mussed up. It worries me!” sez he. - -Sez I, “Don’t worry, Josiah Allen; it is good rep, and it will stand a -good overhaulin’ and not hurt it.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “them tossels can’t be handled over by all Ireland and -come out hull and sound. It is nothin’ but dum foolishness to have to -go through all them performances.” - -But his worryin’ wuz worse than the reality. For anon we sailed into -Cork harbor, and got into the tug that come out to meet us. The -officers jest give our things the lightest examination possible. They -didn’t throw things around at all, and they wuz real polite, only in -one thing--they asked us if we had tobacco or sperits. - -[Illustration: With a stern look, calculated to wither him.] - -Josiah never took his eyes offen that dressin’-gown through the hull of -the ordeal, and he wuz foldin’ them tossels lovin’ly as soon as they -dropped his satchel, when I wuz lookin’ back and a-wonderin’ at the -size of the steamer that loomed up above us some like a cliff. - -As I say, the man with the officers asked me if I had sperits or -tobacco in my luggage. - -I confronted him with a stern look, calculated to wither him, and sez -I-- - -“Do I look like it, sir?” - -“Look like what?” sez he. - -“Like a old toper who carrys round whiskey and a pipe?” Sez I, “I never -drink a drop stronger than coffee, half cream, and I never smoked a -pipe in my life, only once I smoked a little mullen for asthma.” - -He felt ashamed, jest as I wanted him to. He see the power of -principle, and he didn’t hardly touch my things. - -Wall, it wuz no wonder that Josiah worried some. These things were new -to us. He and I wuz, as you may say, the only students and novices in -travellin’ in the hull party, for Al Faizi had been everywhere, his -conversation wuz enriched by allusions to every land. - -And Alice had been to Paris to school for three years. And Martin had -took her over and went after her. He often spoke of his familiarity -with foreign life and the exhaustive study he had made in foreign -fields. “There wuz little left for him to see,” he claimed. - -He had took Alice over and went after her, but went with lightnin’ -speed only when he wuz bed-sick. So Alice told me with her own lips. - -He boasted a sight of his intimacy with foreign ways and customs. - -Wall, did it not seem good to set our feet on land once more! But I wuz -almost ashamed to see the way my pardner reeled round, for he acted -for all the world as if he had been a-drinkin’. I wuz jest a-goin’ to -mention it to him when he whispered to me-- - -“Hang on to me, Samantha,” sez he; “I will never tell on’t in the -world.” - -“Tell of what?” sez I, as I made a effort to stand up straight and -strong. - -“Why,” sez he, “if you took a little too much sling for that cold of -yourn, I hain’t one to throw it in your face.” - -Sez he, “That Stewardess wuz always a-recomendin’ it.” - -“Sling!” sez I coldly; “I hain’t took a drop of anything stronger than -tea, and,” sez I, “knowin’ my principles as you do, I should think -you’d be ashamed of yourself to misuse a pardner in this shameful way!” - -“Wall,” sez he, “you can’t walk straight to save your life! and,” sez -he, “you grew so indignant on the tug at that man, that one would -almost mistrust you.” - -I see that there wuz some reason in his talk, for too much indignation -looks like guilt, lots of times. - -Sez I, “You talk about my reelin’ round; what are you doin’?” sez I, as -his knees crooked and he crumpled down like one intoxicated. - -Wall, he gin up that it wuz the effects of the ship, and erelong we -were in a good, clean tarvern and had breakfast. - -After breakfast we wuz indeed glad to lay down and rest for a little -while, and then, as the rest of the party had all sallied out, my -Josiah and me took a walk all to ourselves, or that is what we had -lotted on. - -But of all the droves of beggars that follered us, I never see the -beat--nasty and shiftless and talkin’ and teasin’ the very life out on -us. - -I gin ’em a few cents in order to git rid on ’em. - -But the more I gin the more they follered on. So I jest shet up my -portmoney and put it into my pocket. - -Josiah poohed at ’em and didn’t give a cent, and didn’t approve of the -three cents I’d expended. - -Till one old woman whispered to him, and I hearn her say-- - -“I see, young man, that you are good to your old mother; won’t you for -her sake give me a shilling?” - -He wavered--he almost gin it to her. Sez she--“I will pray for -blessin’s on your handsome young head.” - -He handed her the shillin’ with a happy, foolish look, which lasted -till she come round to my side, and she whispered to me-- - -“My pretty young lady, give me a sixpence. Your poor old father has -give me a gift, and do not let your own young heart be harder nor his.” - -His liniment darkened rapidly, and he hurried me through the narrer -streets, full of shops and tarverns; and he did not console himself -as I did by lookin’ up on the steep hill and seein’ the handsome -residences--no, he seemed cut to the heart. - -Wall, Martin said when we got back that we would go up to Cork at once, -as he wuz anxious to see all he could in Ireland as rapidly as possible. - -He said that in a week at the outside he thought we could exhaust -all the sight-seein’ in Ireland and git to the bottom of the “Irish -Question.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “you’ll do well if you do that.” - -And I didn’t make no moves to break it up, and we wuz soon a-ridin’ -through the beautiful green country. And we seen on each side on us -“sweet fields arrayed in livin’ green.” - -Never wuz there sech velvety grass, and the roads wuz as smooth and as -hard as a pavement. - -Stun walls run along, with their soft, gray color, and anon a hedge, -birds, and flowers would break the seen. And little, low cottages -covered with vines dotted the landscape here and there; and now and -then a chapel would point its spire up into the blue overhead. - -Once in awhile a queer rig with seats rigged out back to back, drawed -by horses, and full of folks, and once in awhile a smaller cart drawed -by a donkey, and once in awhile a woman with a red or blue cloak and a -white cap, and a man with short pantaloons and coat. - -And so we rid on, green underneath, blue overhead, until we arrived in -Cork. - -Wall, we put up at the Imperial Hotel. Everything wuz clean and sweet -about the house, and we had plenty to eat, and that wuz good. It wuz -indeed a comfort. And the waiters wuz dretful civil and eager to please. - -It beats all, the difference in their actions here and in Jonesville. - -I’ve had Irish wimmen work for me who seemed to look down on me, and -accepted their dollar a day hautily; but here they would thankfully -receive their sixpence a day, and treat you like a lady, too, which is -more ’n half the battle. - -Queer, hain’t it? But human nater is human nater, and even a little -child, if she has been tyranized over by her Ma, will misuse her dolly -or the cat. I spoze that trait in nater can’t be helped from caperin’ -when it gits a chance. - -Wall, the next day Martin said he “wanted to go to Blarney Castle for -several reasons.” - -He didn’t say what they wuz, but I spoze one of ’em wuz that old reason -of hisen about wantin’ to do what other folks did. And then, mebby, he -wanted to try to palaver better than he had palavered. Tenny rate, we -all set out for the castle next mornin’ after breakfast. - -We went in what they call a “jauntin’ car.” The passengers sot back to -back, but as my Josiah wuz placed by my side I did not mind it. - -[Illustration: We went in what they call a “jauntin’ car.”] - -On one side sot we two, and Al Faizi, on the other Martin and his -children. - -Wall, the view wuz enchantin’ beyend description. The road wuz as -smooth and level as smooth glass, bordered by hedges full of pure white -and other colored poseys, a-fillin’ the air full of perfume, and the -cottages and every old tower and ruin wuz covered with the glossy green -of the ivy. - -It wuz a fair seen--a fair seen! - -Nater duz her best in Ireland, anyway. She seems to delight to -cover the meanest things--old straw-thatched cabins, and stuns, and -everything--with a robe of the richest, brightest green; mebby she -wants to kinder make up to the Irish for what they hain’t got, Jestice -and comfort and sech, and mebby, agin, it is the moist climate. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -A VISIT TO BLARNEY CASTLE. - - -Anon we reached the old castle, for when anything gits to be six -hundred years old you can well call it old. Why, I should call Josiah -dretful old if he wuz over six hundred years old. - -It towers up considerable high--a hundred feet, anyway. Some of its -walls are eight or ten feet thick. Al Faizi asked what they had sech -thick walls for. - -And Martin told him it wuz built so to keep enemies from breakin’ in -and killin’ the inhabitants of the castle. - -He looked dretful thoughtful, and then he asked what made them big -holes in the walls. - -Martin said that Cromwell made ’em 200 years ago. Sez Martin, “Cromwell -made the land red with blood.” - -“Was he not a great religious leader among your people?” said Al -Faizi--“a Reformer?” - -“Yes.” - -“Did he not preach the doctrine of peace, love to your enemies, good -will?” - -“Yes, of course he did,” sez Martin. - -“Why did he kill so many men, then?” sez Al Faizi. - -“To make the other men behave themselves,” sez Martin. - -“Kill them to make them act better?” - -“The Catholics and the Protestants both fought in the name of their -religion, and tortured and killed and slaughtered thousands and -thousands of men and women.” - -“For the sake of religion?” sez Al Faizi. And he took out his book and -wrote rapidly for awhile, but he didn’t say nothin’. - -“It was a case of killing or being killed,” sez Martin. “It was a -religious war.” - -“A religious war?” sez Al Faizi dreamily. “Where was His teaching, the -divine Christ, ‘Love your enemies, do good to them that persecute you’?” - -“That won’t work,” sez Martin; “those words are good in peace, but in -danger they don’t work worth a cent.” - -Al Faizi looked up slowly to Martin’s face; in his eyes wuz a shinin’ -light, a softness, a tenderness sech as made his face shine, and -underneath it all wuz a sort of a innocent, wonderin’ look, which I -spoze would be called primitive and oncivilized. - -Martin’s face looked commercial and successful, sharp and shrewd, and -what he called civilized. - -I had quite a number of thoughts as I looked on the two men, over a -dozen and a half, anyway. - -Alice and Adrian wuz pickin’ some of the green ivy sprays, and they -brung ’em to me and wanted me to look at ’em. - -Sez Alice, “Some of this ivy that grows here so wild and -luxuriant--acres of it, it seems to me--is just the kind that we see -little slips of in our green-houses at home; do you see how beautiful -it is?” - -And she held up a few of the glossy leaves to Al Faizi. - -He glanced at it, and then beyend into her sweet, uplifted face. - -“Yes, I see how beautiful it is,” he sez softly, and he ended his words -with a deep sithe. - -And a shadder settled down over his face, and he turned to his writin’ -agin. - -As for Alice, she see nothin’, but kep’ a-gatherin’ her ivy sprays and -a-singin’ to herself in her low, sweet voice-- - - “I give thee an ivy leaf, - Only an ivy leaf, - Oh, wear it forever, love, nearest thy heart.” - -I knew very well who she wuz aposthrofizin’ in her own heart entirely -onbeknown to her as she wuz hummin’ over little snatches of the song -and a-pickin’ the glowin’ green sprays. And I knew that the affection -and constancy that dwelt in her soul wuz as deathless as that ivy and -fur more clingin’ and beautiful. - -Martin had climbed up to the elevation where the Blarney Stun hung -suspended two feet below the surface, fastened by iron clamps. - -But he wouldn’t resk his neck by bein’ lowered down to that place, but -he kissed a little chunk that layed on the ground inside the castle, -for I see him. - -And so did Josiah, though I didn’t advise him to. - -Josiah, a-lookin’ up from below, had been makin’ calculations on how he -could be lowered down to the big Blarney Stun on the ruff. - -Sez he, “It wuz a oversight in me not takin’ a rope; but,” sez he, all -rousted up, as his ardent, impulsive way is, sez he, “I might take that -mantilly you’ve got on.” - -It bein’ a cool day I’d worn it. - -“And you, and Martin, and Fazer could hang holt of one end, and tie the -other end round my waist. I could be lowered down and kiss it and not -git a hair of my head hurt.” - -I glanced pityin’ly at his bald head, and sez I coldly-- - -“How would it be with the tabs?” - -“Oh,” sez he, “it might stretch ’em a little, but if a pardner wouldn’t -be willin’ to resk a tab for her husband, she can’t think much on him.” - -And he prepared to mount the steep, a-holdin’ out his hand for the -mantilly. - -I stood still, foldin’ my tabs round me more clost. - -Sez he, “You talk a sight about your feelin’s for me, and now you put -a mantilly ahead of ’em. I hain’t equal in your mind to a tab,” sez he -bitterly. - -A thought struck aginst me. “No, Josiah,” sez I, “you use my mantilly -to-day, and to-morrer we will come back, and I will use the tossels on -your dressin’-gown.” (They wuz stout ones--stout as a rope almost.) - -He looked dumbfoundered. “Use them tossels?” sez he. - -“Yes,” sez I; “you can’t think much of me if you put them tossels ahead -of me.” - -Sez he, “Them tossels hain’t a-goin’ to be used to lift a ton’s weight. -I might as well give ’em up to once as to misuse ’em so.” - -“Then I hain’t as much importance in your mind as a tossel?” sez I; and -he admitted that I wuzn’t half so good lookin’. - -“Wall,” sez I, “less gin up the idee, both on us.” - -Sez he, “Didn’t you bring sunthin’ to eat with you? I’m as hungry as a -bear.” - -So I gladly led him away from the stairs leadin’ to Danger and Blarney, -and we found a good, clean spot, and spread out our refreshin’ lunch -that we had brung with us to refresh ourselves with, and Josiah did -indeed do jestice to it; but that dear man always duz do that, at home -or in more foreign climes. - -Yes, indeed! - -Wall, the day passed away with no particular coincedences. - -We went home by another road that led through the valley, by -meetin’-housen and horsepitals, jails, etc., and amongst the rest we -see Father Mathew’s statute. - -And if you’ll believe it--but I don’t spoze you will--all round -the statute of that man, who spent his hull life a-fightin’ aginst -intemperance, is a hull lot of drinkin’ places. As if they calculate to -keep right on a-tormentin’ even his statute. - -But they’ve no need to try it, good old creeter! He himself has -got beyend the toil and the heart-aches caused by others’ sin and -weaknesses. - -He has got to the place where he is not plagued and heart-broken by the -sight of that sin and folly, for what duz it say-- - -“There are no drunkards there.” - -Good old soul! - -Keep on a-sellin’ your accursed stuff right under the marble nose of -his statute if you want to, or pour whiskey over it, you can’t git nigh -to him, this hero, this martyr, who give his life, and has now found it -in glory. - -But to resoom. - -Wall, the next mornin’ we sot off in a carriage for Killarney. - -There wuz some sort of a meetin’ that day, and the bells wuz a-ringin’ -as we rode along. - -Mebby amongst ’em wuz the Bells of Shandon. - -I shouldn’t wonder; I sort o’ listened to the sound of ’em with my -soul, but I d’no as I could recognize ’em so’s to tell ’em from the -other bells. - -Our souls hain’t learnt our mortal ears yet, as it would love to, as it -will in the futer. - -But it seemed as though I could hear as we rode along the Bells of -Shandon. - -And thoughts of what I’d seen in a face the day before kinder chimed in -with the sweet, melancholy sounds. - -As it happened, Al Faizi sot by me, and I, a-feelin’ that I had a duty -to do, and a-layin’ out to do it if I got a chance, I kinder brung the -conversation round to Alice; and as I spoke of her sweetness and charm, -the strangest look come into his eyes you ever see, and he sez to me, -jest as though I wuz a-beholdin’ his secret thoughts onbeknown to -him--“I have a vow--I am wedded to the cause of truth.” - -He said it with a deep shadder settlin’ down over his glowin’ eyes. And -then with Duty and Pity a-bolsterin’ me up on both sides, I sez-- - -“Alice is engaged to another feller.” - -He looked full at me as curous a look as I ever see in my life--what -did I see in his eyes, or ruther what didn’t I see? I see Religion, -Devotion, Deathless Human Love, warm, glowin’, eager Renunciation, Pity -for himself (I could see plain that he wuz sorry for himself--sorry as -a dog), Eager Zeal, Pity for the hull world layin’ in wickedness. - -It wuz a strange look. - -And I never said anythin’ to him, only the look I gin him in answer, -where deep pity and admiration and respect blended about half and half. -And a motherly look of full comprehension and sympathy a-shinin’ out -a-tellin’ him that I knew all, and pitied all, and would never tell -anybody what I knew. - -We had volumes of conversation in jest them two looks, and no one wuz -the wiser--I told nobody. - -But, indeed, this secret knowledge added a ingregient of as deep -curosity as wuz ever carried round by a menagerie as a side show, for -me to transport round from place to place, or wherever we pitched our -tent on our tower. - -Yes, truly, things wuz in as curous a state as I ever see, so fur as -the affections and sech wuz concerned. - -Alice a-bein’ wropped up in the thoughts of her feller, and her father -a-bein’ determined to not let her so much as think on him. - -Al Faizi wropped up in Alice, speakin’ to nobody only in the soul -language of the eye, anon or oftener, and nobody but me a-knowin’ it, -but I a-knowin’ it for certain. - -Alice a-bein’ adored by a heathen! - -Queer feelin’s it gin me and queerer still to read in that heathen’s -eyes the knowledge that she had nothin’ to fear from him--she would -never have even an appeal to her pity in futer days. - -As she sot by her husband’s side a-holdin’ a baby’s head on her bosom, -she would never look down into its sweet eyes and think with pity of -lonely, despairin’ eyes that wuz facin’ a lonely, empty futer. - -No; that heroic soul kep’ its own secrets. Why, you can be a hero in -anything--even boots and galluses, and sech, if you bear pinchin’ from -’em without complaint (Josiah never could, he groaned audibly and -frequent unless his galluses wuz jest right). - -And Adrian, a happy little soul, pleased with everything, and -a-praisin’ himself up jest as calm as he did castles and cathedrals, -and jest as innocent. - -And Martin a-bearin’ himself up with dignity, near-sighted as ever when -it come to recognizin’ American bores and curous tourists. - -And Josiah and I in our usual attitude of rapt devotion to each other, -which is our two most striking traits (a good deal of the time they be). - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -KILLARNEY, DUBLIN, AND A WAKE. - - -Martin said that he wouldn’t for the world have folks ask him if he had -visited the Lakes of Killarney, and have to say no. - -And I believe that thought kep’ him up through all the long day’s -journey and the two nights and one day we spent there. - -I don’t believe he had any deeper feelin’s and more riz up ones when he -looked at them three beautiful lakes, with the mountains a-standin’ up -all round ’em with bare heads. - -Yes, you’d think them old mountains had took their green caps off and -wuz lookin’ down on ’em with deep reverence and respect. They wuz so -exquisitely beautiful. - -[Illustration: Three beautiful lakes.] - -But Martin, mebby, can’t be expected to be as riz up and as elevated as -them peaks; anyway, he acted out his nater, which wuz to see everything -he could see, to stand round with his hands in his pockets if he felt -like it, or if he wuz kinder tired, to lean back and shet up his eyes -and rest and have his body dragged along through the places, so’s he -could say he had been in ’em. - -And Al Faizi acted out his nater, which wuz to stand like a devotee -before a shrine as the beauty of them seens busted onto him. - -And in noticin’ that the rich, highly cultivated lower lands layin’ -about the lakes wuz all fenced in with high walls, and that one or two -men owned hundreds and thousands of acres, sacred to the use of some -animals they wanted to hunt down for pleasure once or twice durin’ the -year, while hundreds and thousands of poor human bein’s wuz starvin’ -all round the borders of these immense estates. - -Livin’ in miserable, rotten cabins, so poor that one of these rich men -would not think of lettin’ one of his beasts stay in ’em for a night. -Immortal souls for whom Christ died hungry, starvin’ for a crust and -dyin’ for a bit of the luxury that wuz wasted upon dumb brutes. - -In noticin’ this, Martin sithed to think that them men wuzn’t to home, -so that he could call on ’em. - -He said that he would love to say that he had met ’em. - -But Al Faizi, after askin’ all he could about the estates of the two or -three wealthy men and the thousands of starvin’ ones round ’em, looked -dretful thoughtful, and took out his little book with the cross and -star on’t and writ a lot in it. - -And Martin spoke of its bein’ jest as bad in the north of Scotland, -where the Crofters can hardly git enough food to keep from starvin’. -And they live in sech huts as no man would keep his animals in. - -Big families of boys and girls huddled together like pigs in one small -room, with a open fireplace in the middle, with no chimney and no ruff, -nothin’ but rotten straw; the smoke blindin’ their eyes, and nothin’ to -eat hardly. - -And as miserable as this hovel is, the landlord is liable to turn -’em out at any time to make room for happier and better cared-for -animals--sheep, deer, etc., etc. - -As Al Faizi hearn this his face looked sad and thoughtful, and he wrote -down quick a good deal in that little book of hisen. - -I think Martin liked it. He thought he wuz takin’ notes of his -conversation, and he felt big over it, but I don’t believe it wuz -anything personal that Al Faizi writ. I believe it wuz sunthin’ as deep -as jestice and as pure as love and pity that he wuz a-writin’ about; -anyhow, his face wuz a study as I watched it. There wuz indignation in -it and pity and love, and another look, that I felt instinctively wuz -a-lookin’ forrered to jedgment. - -Lookin’ forrered not many years to the time when things would be -different. - -Wall, we stayed there and went round part of the way in boats, and part -of the way in wagons all of the next day, a-lookin’ at the beautiful -gems of lakes in their settin’s of richest emerald, and in little walks -about the country, and in comparin’ the heights of luxury to the depths -of squalor and misery. - -Not fur from here wuz the cottage where Kate Kearney used to live. You -know who she wuz, I spoze. - - “For did you not hear of Kate Kearney? - She lives on the banks of Killarney; - From the glance of her eye - Shun peril and fly, - For fatal’s the glance of Kate Kearney.” - -Whether he flew from her I d’no, but presoom he didn’t, men are so sot -in these things. - -Peril and danger hain’t a-goin’ to make ’em fly from a pretty -woman--no, indeed! - -In the lower lake, on an island, wuz the ruins of a big castle, -picturesque and ivy-covered. It wuz owned by the O’Donohues. And the -boatman said that every seven years the chief of the O’Donohues come -back for a night to see his castle. - -I thought to myself, mebby he come oftener than that, but didn’t say -a word, not wantin’ to do anything to either make or break a legend -hundreds of years old. - -Wall, we wuz a-layin’ out to leave there the next mornin’, but Martin, -by his pryin’ round, found that there wuz a-goin’ to be a wake that -night in a cabin not fur from the tarvern where we wuz a-stayin’, and -by payin’ some money--I d’no how much--he got a chance to attend to it, -and he said that Josiah and I could go if we wanted to. He told me he -didn’t spoze that Al Faizi would care about goin’, and he wanted Alice -and Adrian to rest, for the next mornin’ early we wuz to set out for -Dublin. - -But I thanked him real polite, and told him that “I would stay with the -children.” - -And afterwards, seein’ that Al Faizi wanted to go, them three men sot -off. - -A old man had passed away, and they wuz a-makin’ a great wake for him. - -They didn’t stay long, for they said that the whiskey and drinkin’ and -tobacco-smokin’ in the little hovel drove ’em out. - -[Illustration: Drinkin’ and tobacco-smokin’ in the little hovel drove -’em out.] - -But Martin observed complacently that he would be glad to say that he -had been to a real Irish Wake. - -Al Faizi spoke of the old wimmen wailers, and said that they had -jest sech professional mourners in Egypt and parts of Africa, and he -wondered quite a good deal how that custom come way off here in this -fur-off Ireland, but he spozed that it wuz in some way brought here -from the East. Mebby it come down from them old days nobody knows -anything about, of which relics remains in them old round towers, etc. -So old nobody knows who built ’em, or what for. - -He wondered a good deal, but didn’t take out that book of hisen with -the star and cross on’t. No, he writ in another book with a plain -Russia leather cover on’t. - -My pardner restrained himself until the others had departed to their -couches, but I see that he wuz fearful agitated and excited. - -And sez he, the minute they went out-- - -“I tell you, Samantha, it wuz a excitin’ seen, and,” sez he, “what a -excitement it would make in Jonesville if we should have one!” Sez he -dreamily-- - -“Uncle Nate Bentley is over ninety; there might be one arranged easy.” - -Sez I, “Josiah Allen, don’t you go to lookin’ forrered to any sech -doin’s!” - -“Why?” sez he; “if I should leave you, you could probble git the Widder -Lummis up to Zoar and Drusilla Bentley to wail for a little or nothin’.” - -Sez I, “Josiah Allen, no widder or old maid is a-goin’ to wail over you -by my hirin’ ’em to; if they wail, it will be at their own expense. - -“You will have one true mourner, Josiah Allen, whose grief will be -too deep and heartfelt to display it before a crowd, with whiskey and -tobacco as accessories.” - -“Oh! I didn’t expect you’d have any drinkin’ or smokin’. I knew your -principles too well. They might smoke a little catnip, or sunthin’ of -that sort, or pass round some lemonade.” - -Sez I, “There will be nothin’ of the kind done, Josiah Allen.” - -But he sprunted up and sez, “You seem to be settlin’ things all your -own way. I should think that I ort to have some say in it. Whose -funeral is it, I’d like to know, we’re talkin’ about?” - -But I sez, “I don’t want to hear another word of sech talk, and I -won’t.” And I riz up and sallied off to bed, and in sweet slumber that -man soon forgot all his stylish ambitions. - -Wall, the next day we sot off to Dublin, and havin’ arrived there -with no casualities worth mentionin’, we settled down in a good-sized -tarvern, and after a little rest we meandered around to see the sights -of the place. - -Martin said that he wanted to visit the great manafacturys where Irish -Poplin is made, as he had some friends who wuz interested in that -trade, and that it would be expected of him. - -And I then mentioned to Josiah, seein’ that he wuz right here at the -headquarters, perhaps it would be best for me to buy a gray poplin -dress. I knew it would last like iron. - -But Josiah said with deep earnestness, that if I only knew how much -better he liked my old gray parmetty dress to home I never would speak -on’t. Sez he, “You look perfectly beautiful in it, and there is so -many associations connected with it.” - -Sez I, “I should think there would be, seein’ I’ve worn it stiddy for -upwards of eighteen years without alterin’ it.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “it is a perfect beauty, and you look lovely in it.” - -He hadn’t been so complimentary to me for upwards of fourteen years, -and I wuz touched by it, and gin up the thought of gittin’ a new dress. - -Oh! how many, many wimmen have done the same thing under the same -circumstances. - -But the numerous shops wuz full of the loveliest goods of all kinds, -and politer creeters than them clerks I don’t want to see. - -St. Patrick’s Cathedral wuz of course one of the first places we -visited. They say that this wuz built, in the first place, by St. -Patrick himself about fourteen hundred years ago, but if that wuz so, -I thought St. Patrick would feel sorry for the filth and wretchedness -that surrounded the meetin’-house up to the very door. - -There wuz a magnificent carved marble sarcophagus of Archbishop -Whateley, with his own marble figger stretched out on top of it. - -And a monument to that kinder queer, kinder mean, smart chap, Swift, -and a tablet to poor Stella, who would a-done better if she had -married some other feller, mebby not so smart, but better natered and -a better provider. - -Poor creeter, I’m sorry for her! - -There wuz lots of other interestin’ monuments and memorials, but Time -and Martin wuz in a hurry, so we did not delay. - -We visited Trinity College, the castle, the beautiful part of the city -where the rich folks lived, and the Liberties, where it seemed as if -all the liberty the poor creeters had wuz the liberty to be jest as -poor and degraded and nasty as they could be. - -There wuz beautiful parks, one on ’em over eighteen hundred acres in -it, full of beauty, and we see lots of statutes, erected to the great -men who had been born in Dublin--the Duke of Wellington, the great -orator, Daniel O’Connell, etc. - -The monument to Nelson, the hero of the Nile, is one hundred and ten -feet high before he stands up on it, and he is 11 feet high. - -He is in a sightly place. - -If his sperit comes back in some still moonlight night, and looks -over the world with him, I wonder if it ever looks over the mistakes -he made? I wonder if the beautiful Lady Hamilton ever comes into its -thoughts? - -She hain’t got any monument. - -I wonder if he’s sorry for it, that he stands up so high and she so low -in the opinion of people--so low, when once he felt it his greatest -glory and happiness to kneel at her feet? - -But such surmises are futile, futiler than there’s any need on. - -To resoom. - -Charles Lever, the novelist, wuz born in Dublin, and so wuz Tom Moore. - -We went to the birthplace of Moore. - -It wuz a common-lookin’ buildin’, though it had a bust of the poet in -front up between the winders. - -The lower part of the house wuz used as a grocery store, and Josiah -himself proposed that we should buy here some little souvenir of the -poet. - -I wuz dumbfoundered. I never knew him to propose any outlay of the kind -before, and I sez as much. - -“Wall,” sez he, “I knew you wuz always wantin’ to buy sunthin’ to -remember sech romantic places by, and I thought here would be a good -chance.” - -I wuz so touched by his thoughtfulness that I sez--“Dear Josiah, what -had you got it into your head to buy?” - -And he said that he thought a few crackers and a little cheese and a -herrin’ or two would be as good as anything. - -“Did you mean to keep ’em, Josiah?” sez I, for a dark suspicion swept -over me. - -And he owned up that he layed out to nibble on ’em a little on the way -back to the hotel. - -I see right through it, and I didn’t fall in with his overtoor. -Somehow, herrin’s and cheese seemed incongrous with Lally Rooks, and -Peris, and Paradises, and I told him so. - -And he sez, “Dum it all, they had to eat in Paradise if they kep’ -alive, and,” sez he, “a Peri, if she knew anything, wouldn’t object to -a slice of good cheese and some soda crackers.” - -So I told him that if he wanted sunthin’ to eat to buy it; but, sez -I, “never veneer a selfish thought with the fine gold of romance and -tender memories.” - -And he said that he didn’t want nothin’ to do with varnish of any kind, -he wanted some cheese and crackers. So he bought a few, I guess; I -didn’t watch him. - -I myself wuz quite took up with lookin’ round the place, sanctified by -genius of a certain kind, and I murmured almost onbeknown to myself the -words I had hearn Tirzah Ann repeat. She always loved Moore fur better -than Thomas J. did. Though Thomas J. thought well enough on him, but -Tirzah Ann used to rehearse and sing him by the hour, so in spite of -myself I had learnt lots of his poetry by heart. - -And as I looked round the room I found myself entirely onbeknown to -myself a-hummin’ over the “Last Rose of Summer,” and the “Meetin’ of -the Waters,” and the “Harp that once through Tara’s Halls.” - -That last one Tirzah Ann ust to sing a sight, and I always liked to -hear it, though I never got it into my head jest who Mr. Tara wuz, or -what line of business he wuz in. - -Wall, knowin’ that Tirzah Ann would prize it so high, I bought some -choclate drops of candy to take home to her. - -They wuz as sweet as Moore’s poetry, and softer, some. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -JOSIAH AS A BANSHEE. - - -Wall, Martin said that he should probble be asked if he had visited the -Giant’s Causeway, so he thought we had better proceed to it to once. So -we went directly from Dublin to Port Rush. We stayed there all night, -and the next day we all went out on the electric car, for Martin said -that he wanted Adrian to go, for in futer years he would probble be -asked if he had been there. Adrian wuz tired out and didn’t want to -go--he wuz real cross about it. - -Alice told her Pa that Adrian said that he wouldn’t look at anything if -he went, but Martin said that it would be better for him to go, even if -he didn’t see anything, for then he could say that he had been there. -So we all sot off--the way we went wuz a perfect sight and wonder in -itself, for what power do you spoze it wuz that rolled the wheels that -took us onwards? - -It wuz all done by a waterfall at Bush Mills, a few milds away. The -water that poured down from the hills is harnessed, as you may say, and -made to carry us along. - -Queer, hain’t it? And shows that you never can tell what will happen to -you in the futer. - -Why, if anybody had told them little free, sparklin’ rivulets that leap -along up in the hills, foamin’ and chatterin’ of liberty and freedom, -and sech--if anybody had throwed it into their bright, sparklin’ faces -that they wuz a-goin’ to be ketched and tackled up with some kind of -riggin’ and carry Josiah Allen’s Wife and her pardner, and the world at -large, them rivulets would have resented it--they would have laughed -and gurgled and swept on indifferent and onbelievin’. - -But so it wuz, they had to come to it. - -And after they got broke in they didn’t seem to mind it, for they bore -us on so smooth and easy and noiseless, that it wuz a perfect treat. - -No steamin’, no smokin’--they learnt that up in the hills. It wuz a -comfort to ride after ’em. - -And we had nothin’ to hender us from thinkin’ of the Giants and talkin’ -about ’em. - -Josiah said that he had always approved of giants, and that he would -love to see one or two of ’em. - -Adrian didn’t git real reconciled to goin’ till after we got started, -then he got real excited, and got the idee that we wuz goin’ to see -Jack the Giant Killer, and asked me quite a number of questions about -it. - -Runnin’ sunthin’ like this--How big wuz the Giants, and where did they -come from, and what wuz their names, and how long did it take ’em to -build the Causeway, and-- - -“What is the Causeway made of?” - -“Of rocks.” - -“What are the rocks made of, and who made the rocks, and when were they -made, and how, and what for?” - -Good land! I wuz tuckered out, and told him I guessed I would look out -of the winder a spell and take the air. - -And then he wanted to know what air wuz made of, and who made it, and -if there wuzn’t any air out of the winder if I could make some air. - -He didn’t ask so many questions as a general thing--he seemed to be -kinder fractious that day. Poor little creeter, he wuz tired out, and I -knew it, and I encouraged him to kinder lean up aginst me and take all -the rest and comfort he could. - -Alice wuz real happy. She’d got some letters that mornin’, and two big -ones wuz in one handwritin’--I knew it. She read ’em over two or three -times in the train. - -Al Faizi looked at her as she read ’em, and his face looked queer--he -see the glow on her face, and I see that, like the sun, that bright -light could cast a shadder. Sunshine and shadder, how they chase across -the landscape of life! How clost they foller each other! What strange -picters they make! What thoughts they give! - -But to resoom--we got to the Causeway in pretty good season, and we -found it wuz a sight, a sight. - -It is made of high round columns, or pillows, and you can walk on it -jest as you could on the walk Josiah made out to the hen-house out of -bricks sot long end up. - -But this Giants’ walk is fur, fur immenser than Josiah’s. It is so -extremely big that they say the Giants built it. It runs out into the -sea in a kind of a curous shape, and is a sight to behold. - -I thought I wouldn’t go and see the caves that wuz nigh there. You had -to go to ’em in a boat--and as I looked on that boat, and considered -the size on’t, and then subtracted the size of it from the bigness of -the Atlantic Ocean, I gin up that I wouldn’t tackle it. - -I had done some of my multiplyin’ and subtractin’ out loud, onbeknown -to me, and Josiah hearn me, and said he guessed he wouldn’t go. He -looked round the Heavens and earth as if to find a suitable excuse, and -finally he sez-- - -“It seems so kinder muggy to-day, I guess I won’t go, though I should -enjoy the trip immensely if it wuzn’t for the clost atmosphere.” - -Wall, I wuz glad to have him gin it up on any account. - -Al Faizi didn’t seem to care about goin’, nor Alice, nor Adrian. - -But Martin said that he wouldn’t want it to be said that he hadn’t -visited the caves. - -So he sot off with a couple of boatmen. - -There wuz a dretful sort of a heavey look to the Atlantic, and I wuz -glad that I didn’t venter, for I felt truly that the Giants, if they -ever heard on’t, would make allowances for my feelin’s in not dastin’ -to venter out on the Atlantic in a boat. - -As it turned out, glad enough wuz I that there didn’t none of the rest -on us go, for there come up a sudden squall right when Martin wuz in -the cave, and they had to hurry out for their lives. The rough waves -wuz a-washin’ the boat up aginst them hard pillows of stun, and they -wuz in sech danger of their lives that the boatmen had to jump out on -the rocks the best way they could, and haul Martin, more dead than -alive, up over the rocks. - -[Illustration: Drippin’ wet when he come back.] - -He wuz drippin’ wet when he come back to the hotel, and I sez, “Martin, -how sorry I am you ventered out there!” - -And he sez, with his teeth a-chatterin’ and the water a-drippin’ off of -him, that he wasn’t sorry, for a friend of hisen, a very rich and very -influential man, had been caught in jest the same way. - -And he gin me to understand that he anticipated a great treat in -talkin’ over the experience with him. - -Wall, there is sunthin’ in that--there is comfort in talkin’ over past -troubles and dangers, and I couldn’t dispute it. - -But I sez: “For mercy sakes! do change your clothes and git dried off.” - -But he hadn’t any other clothes with him, and the upshot of it wuz, he -had to go to bed while his clothes wuz dryin’. - -But Josiah wuz sorry for him, and blamed himself for not thinkin’ to -bring along his dressin’-gown. Sez he, “I wouldn’t think of lendin’ it -on a common occasion, but,” sez he, lookin’ round on sech big work as -the Giants had done there, sez he, “I wouldn’t want to act small, and -refuse to let Martin put it on for an hour or two.” - -Wall, as soon as Martin wuz dried off, we sot sail back to Port Rush, -and it wuz there that night that I had a severe trial and fright. - -We had had a good supper, and Josiah had eat more than wuz good for -him, I believe, and drinked too much coffee. - -He is used to tea at night, but bein’ so wore out and kinder chilly, -Martin ordered strong coffee. - -And I believe that coffee wuz to the bottom of our trials that night. - -Bein’ kinder fagged out, Martin had gone to his room early, and the -rest had follered his example, and my pardner and I had also sought the -seclusion of our quiet bedroom. - -And I immegiately and to once begun my preperations for slumber. - -I onfolded my nightgown and laid it over a chair and ondone my -sheepshead night-cap, and mekanically went to sort of flutin’ the -border between my fingers, as I sot there, and I begun to feel real -drowsy. - -But Josiah didn’t seem to be sleepy a mite. He had donned that -dressin’-gown of hisen and tied the strings in a large bow-knot, that -showed off the red tossels to the best advantage, and walked 2 and fro -several times, and seemed to look and act real sentimental. He has sech -spells--I guess all men do at times. And finally he leaned back in a -big arm-chair and kinder hummed over some tunes--not sech tunes as I -would approve of his singin’, but some songs--such as “Ben Bolt,” and -“Lorena,” and “She’s all my Fancy painted Her.” - -And finally he broke out quite loud a-singin’-- - - “‘I’ll chase the antelope over the plains, - The tiger’s cub I’ll’-- - -“What is it, Samantha, that he said he’d do to the tiger’s cub--‘with a -chain’?” - -Sez I, “Choke it, mebby--I presoom he’d be skairt enough to want to.” - -“No; it wuz sunthin’ like harnessin’, Samantha. Do you know what it is? -It comes right in the turn of the tune, and it hampers me to forgit it.” - -And then he begun agin-- - - “‘The tiger’s cub I’ll _tie_ with a chain-- - I’ll tackle with a chain’-- - -“No, that hain’t it--‘tie’ hain’t the word-- - - “‘The tiger’s cub I’ll, folderol, with a chain.’” - -He made the turn and went on to the next line-- - - “‘And the wild gazelle, with its silvery feet, - I’ll get thee for a playmate, sweet.’” - -Sez he, “I’ve got it all but that one word, and that--that will come to -me,” sez he. - -Sez he, “I feel like singin’ to-night, Samantha.” - -“Sing!” sez I in icy axents; “I’d call it singin’, if I wuz you.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “if I dast to let my voice out, you’d hear singin’, -but it would wake ’em all up. My voice is powerful, and I feel in full -voice to-night.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “I’m glad that sunthin’ holds you back. - -“And,” sez I, “I am beat out and I am goin’ to bed.” - -And so I got ready and went to bed. - -The rest wuz all asleep, so I spozed. - -Wall, I fell asleep most the first thing, and I d’no how long I’d -slept, when I hearn a knockin’ at my door, and I got up, and Alice -stood there, white and tremblin’. - -[Illustration: Alice stood there, white and tremblin’.] - -“The Banshee!” sez she in tremblin’ tones; “I saw it myself, and heard -it.” - -Sez she, “You know this is the very part of Ireland where they have -them.” - -Sez I, “You’d been a-thinkin’ of ’em and imagined it.” - -“No, indeed!” sez she; “I was just falling asleep when I heard those -awful wails of distress, and I got up and went to father’s room, which -is next to mine, and he got up and looked out of the window, and he saw -it and heard it too.” Sez she, “You know the Banshee always appears -before some dreadful trouble comes to a family, and it seems as if -it is meant for us, for it is only a little ways off.” Sez she, “You -and Uncle Josiah get up and come into my room, and you can see it for -yourselves.” - -At them words there seemed to come to me a realizin’ sense of my -surroundin’s; bein’ jest waked up with news of a ghost, I’d overlooked -the fact of my companion’s absence. - -But I sez, “I will come, Alice. Your Uncle Josiah has probble heard it, -and gone out to investigate.” - -So I throwed on my flannel wrapper and slipped on my shoes and put my -breakfast shawl round me and went into Alice’s room. There we found -Martin wrapped in his Pegama, or whatever they call it. - -Alice’s winder commanded a better view than hisen, and he stood -motionless by the winder. - -Al Faizi and Adrian wuz in the other side of the house, and so wuz the -rest of the folks. These two rooms wuz kinder built out on the side by -themselves. - -Sez I, “Martin, you don’t believe anythin’ of this kind, do you?” - -But Alice spoke up before he could answer, “Why, at Dunluce Castle that -we saw to-day there is a Banshee that always foretells death to the -family, and they have them all over Ireland.” - -Sez I, advancin’ towards the winder, “You don’t believe anythin’ of -this kind, do you, Martin?” - -He answered evasively, “There is something dreadful queer-looking down -there across the road--it is standing still now, but it has been giving -the most blood-curdling sounds and wails that I ever heard.” - -“Yes,” sez Alice, “the Banshee always gives those same terrific -screeches and harrowing yells. I know it is a Banshee, and it is for -us, father, for it appeared to us.” - -And she commenced to cry. I guess her first thought was of somebody -that wuz in her mind the hull of the time. - -Sez I, “Hush up, Alice--I don’t believe anything of the kind.” - -But as I looked out, follerin’ Martin’s solemn and silent pint, I did -see a sight that made the cold chills run down my back in spite of -myself, and goose pimples gathered freely down my shoulder blades. - -I see a dark figger a-standin’ up on a little rock that riz up there -above the rest of the ground; it stood motionless, and, indeed, it -looked skairful. And onbeknown to myself I sez--“For the land’s sake! -what is it?” - -[Illustration: A dark figger a-standin’ up on a little rock.] - -My own voice wuz tremolous with fear, and Alice see it, and cried -harder than ever. And Martin sez-- - -“You ought to have heard the terrific screams the thing gave if you -want to be scared--seeing it isn’t nothing at all to hearing it. - -“And,” sez he, “I’ll go and call up the hotel-keeper and find out what -it is. Maybe it is a lunatic broken out of some asylum. I am going to -know something about who and what it is.” - -But jest at this minute the creeter broke out in one of its wild cries, -and Martin and Alice shuddered, and sez he, “Did you ever in your life -hear anything so awful?” - -And Alice sez, “I cannot bear it, Aunt Samantha. It is too terrible.” - -But there wuz to me sunthin’ familiar in the sound, and I lifted the -sash, and the words come in plain-- - - “Bind with a chain! - The tiger’s cub I’ll _bind_ with a chain - And the wild gazelle”--etc., etc. - -Sez I, “It is my own pardner with his dressin’-gown on, and a-singin’.” - -The words Martin said then I won’t never tell--no, indeed! besides the -wickedness on ’em, it wuz too humiliatin’ to hear ’em applied to my own -pardner. “Fool” wuz the last one of the three, and “The” wuz the first -one, but I will not tell the middle word--you can’t make me. - -Alice went to laughin’ (partly hysterics); she felt dretful relieved, -and as the figger seemed now to be aproachin’ the house, I went back -into my room, into which it soon entered in a gay and jaunty manner. - -He had been enjoyin’ himself first-rate, and sez he-- - -“Wall, Samantha, I’ve found the word, and I’ve been a-singin’;” sez he, -“I sung the verse all over, and it sounded beautiful, and then I stood -still a spell, and all of a sudden the right word come to me. It wuz -‘bind,’” sez he. - -Sez I coldly, “You’ve skairt a woman almost into fits and made a -church-member and a relation swear like a pirate.” Sez I, “I’ve seen -you took for lots of things, Josiah Allen, from first to last, but I -never thought I should ever live to see the day to see you took for a -ghost--a Banshee. A common ghost would sound as good agin as that.” -And I went on and related the facts. He acted mad and puggilistic like, -and sez he--“I can’t help folks from makin’ dum fools of themselves.” - -Sez I, “I wish you’d kep’ yourself from it.” - -Sez he, “It is a pity if a man can’t sing a little durin’ the evenin’ -without his folks actin’ like perfect fools!” - -“Sing!” sez I; “I wonder how many more episodes you’ll have to go -through without your learnin’ the truth about what you call your -singin’.” Sez I, “You can’t sing, Josiah Allen, any more than a cow -can play on the melodian, and I’ve told you so often enough for you to -believe it.” - -“Wall, wall,” sez he, “it’s time to go to bed. When a man is -a-travellin’ with a hull crew of loonaticks and fools, it stands him in -hand to git what little rest he can, nights.” - -That man wuz ashamed of his conduct, and I knew it. - -Mortification works out sometimes in jest that way. It gaulded him to -be took for a Banshee, for I hearn him mutter the word two or three -times scornfully, as he wuz a-ondressin’. - -Sez he, “A Banshee!!! Dum fools!!! I’d love to be one a spell--I’d show -’em some screechin’!” - -He didn’t mean me to overhear him, but I did, and I sez calmly from my -piller-- - -“You needn’t blame yourself, Josiah Allen; there hain’t a Banshee in -Ireland but what would be proud to mate with you after hearin’ you -to-night--there hain’t one on ’em that could outdo you.” - -“Keep on your aggravatin’,” sez he, and he didn’t say another word for -as much as three minutes, when he begun to complain of bein’ chilly. - -And I took alarm to once, and made him some hot lemonade--I had the -ingregiences, and a alcohol lamp with me. - -And I folded up my woollen shawl, and tucked him all up in it, and -spoke real soothin’ to him, and affectionate. For sech is the mystery -of human love, though pardners may mortify you, or anger you, yet -their sufferin’ or danger shows how strong are the ties that bind two -lovin’ hearts--nothin’ can break it. He answered me back in the same -affectionate way, though terse, but showin’ the tender regard he had -for my welfare. Sez he-- - -“For mercy sake, do come to bed! your feet will be as cold as ice -suckles.” - -And so sweet peace havin’ descended down onto us, we wuz both soon -wropped in slumber. - -Wall, Martin concluded that we would go as soon as we could to -Glasgow, “For,” sez he, “I feel that we have seen everything that there -is to see in Ireland, and gone to the bottom, as you may say, of the -‘Irish Question.’ So we might just as well go to Scotland as soon as -might be.” - -So we proceeded to Glasgow, partly by train and partly by steamboat. - -Martin talked comfortably agin, on the train, of havin’ seen everything -in Ireland, and of havin’ gone to the bottom of the “Irish Question.” -“For,” sez he, “the land is governed admirably--splendid standing -army, admirable police force, and as for the people,” sez he, “in good -seasons, statistics show that there is half a ton of potatoes to each -person. More than I consume,” sez he complacently, leanin’ back with -his fingers in his vest pockets. - -Sez I, “Mebby you’d consume more potatoes if you didn’t consume nothin’ -else.” Sez I, “You take out your fowls, and fish, and beef, and lamb, -and puddin’s, and pastry, etc., etc., etc., and eat nothin’ but clear -potatoes, and how many do you spoze you’d consume, and how much comfort -do you spoze you’d take consumin’ ’em?” - -He looked lofty, and sez he: “That isn’t a parallel case.” - -“And,” sez I, “when the potato crop failed, what then?” - -Agin he sez, “That isn’t a parallel case.” - -Sez I, “Parallel to what?” - -And he said, “Don’t you want the window shut awhile? Let me put your -shawl round you; it is a little chilly.” - -And then he went on talkin’ to Alice as fast as he could about the -seenery, and I wuz too well bread to say anything more. - -But I see that Al Faizi had took out his little book with the jewelled -cross on it, and he wuz writin’ in it. - -And from the way the light from above fell on it as he held it, the -rays streamed out from the jewelled cross some like the flashin’ rays -from a sword. - -He had spoke to me before about the wretchedness and beggary of the -people, and expressed wonder that one or two men should own hundreds -of thousands of acres and keep it for idle pleasure grounds, while all -round were men who couldn’t, no matter how sober and industrious they -might be, buy enough land to build a shed on. - -He had looked dreamy and strange while he talked it over, but, as -his usual way wuz, he didn’t blame nothin’ nor nobody--that wuz the -difference between me and him. - -He would seem to ask about and find out about things, and then jest -write ’em down in that book of hisen. His face a-lookin’ calm a most -all the time, but dretful earnest and deep and sorrowful, a good part -of the time. His writin’ wuzn’t nothin’ hard, I don’t believe, but -comparin’ the doin’s here with the things in his own land, I spoze. - -I had noticed that he had wrote down quite a good deal after he had -hearn this conversation on Home Rule, and how for hundreds of years a -brave people had tried to git the rule of their own land. Not always -makin’ wise efforts, I spoze, but brave ones every time, and how the -grand old man in England had stood up for ’em aginst his own folks. - -I see Al Faizi had writ down quite a considerable, a-praisin’ -Gladstone, for all I know. He never told what he writ down or drawed -our attention to it, no more than the sun duz as it photographs the -pictures of the bendin’ trees and the flowers on the earth beneath. -Jest duz it, and that’s all. - -The sun and Al Faizi did. That’s where I differed some--I talked -more. Wimmen do have to talk once in a while--they’re made so, I -guess, onbeknown to ’em. And I said quite a good deal aloud and found -considerable fault, though I meant not to be too hard on either side. - -There’s always two sides to every story. Ireland hain’t always right, I -don’t spoze, no more’n England. When two men git to fightin’ back and -forth, there must be some fault on both sides before they git through, -anyway, sech as swearin’, kickin’, etc., etc., etc. - -I hain’t got nothin’ agin Queen Victoria, and she knows I hain’t. The -Widder Albert is a good woman and a good calculator, and has brung up -her children well, and has laid up for ’em. - -And if ever any woman wuz a mourner for a pardner, she’s been and is -now. - -But I can’t think she duz jest right in this case, not to let the Irish -people rule their own country. It stands to reason that Josiah and I -wouldn’t want Deacon Gowdy to rule our house and farm, though he’s a -real likely man and a brother in the same meetin’ house, and a good -calculator. - -But even if we didn’t do quite so well, we would ruther tend to our own -house and affairs--everybody would. And I laid out to talk to Victoria -on the subject the first time I had a real set-down visit with her. - -[Illustration: I laid out to talk to Victoria on the subject.] - -And then if Deacon Gowdy took all the money he could rake and scrape -out of us, and spent it all on his own place, that would mad us, too. - -And like as not if he kep’ Josiah and me down so poor that we wuz most -starved, and he should try to turn us out of our own house, and use -that dear place, sacred to us, and the door-yard and orchard, for a -home for his dogs and fightin’ roosters and sech, why, I d’no if Josiah -see me barefooted and hungry, a-beggin’ Deacon Gowdy not to turn me out -of the house I wuz born in, and on an empty stumick, too, I d’no but -he’d knock him down and jump on him. - -And that would make trouble--Miss Gowdy wouldn’t like that, but if she -should come to me with it, I should say to her, “Let him tend to his -own business, then, and let us alone.” - -And if she should uphold him and say we hadn’t no jedgment, and wuz -shiftless, and we couldn’t take care of our land, and they had to do -it because we wuz too indolent, and slack, and sech--I’d tell her agin -that it wuz none of her business. Sez I, “If we run through with our -own property we can go to our own poor-house, can’t we? - -“But,” I’d say, “you needn’t worry; what encouragement do we have to -work and git things ahead when we know you’d take all the profits of -our labor? You go off and tend to your own business, and we’ll work -hard enough, and lay up.” - -And then, after freein’ my mind to her, if old Gowdy wuz too bad off, I -dare presoom to say I should offer him some wormwood to make a poultice -of to show him that I didn’t have no malice towards him, only jest -wantin’ to have my rights and be let alone. But to resoom. - -We arrove in Glasgow with no fatal results a-flowin’ from our voyage, -and we put up at a good sizable tarvern, where we had plenty of things -for our comfort and luxury. - -Amongst the things of luxury, I counted the water that I drinked from -day to day, for I found that it wuz water brung from Loch Katrine. - -And when you remember Ellen’s Isle, as described by Sir Walter Scott, -is right there in Loch Katrine--you may perhaps imagine the height and -depth of my emotions. - -Why, the very water I sipped, and wet my front hair with mornings -before my lookin’-glass, may have gurgled and murmured round the very -isle where Ellen Douglas dwelt in her father’s hidden lodge, covered -with ivy and Idien vines. - -[Illustration: Samantha and Ellen Douglas.] - - “The rocky isle with copsewood bound, - Where weeping birch and willow round - With their long fibres swept the ground.” - -Where she dwelt and roamed, dreaming of Malcolm Graeme, and where she -met the King of Scotland, onbeknown to her. - -Poor feller, poor young king! he thought more of Ellen than wuz good -for him, but he acted like a perfect gentleman through it all, and that -is better than bein’ a king. - -Or ruther it _is_ bein’ a king. - -He forgive her Pa, who had been rambellous, and with that gold chain of -hisen, that he might have hung him with, he bound the girl he loved to -another man forever. Good, generous creeter! - -But we are wanderin’ too fur back into the realm of poesy, accompanied -by noble Warriors and Ladys of the Lake, and to come out into the -hard-beat track of reality agin, and to resoom. - -Martin sot a great deal of store on visitin’ the great public buildin’s -and the Cathedral, which is nine hundred years old, and the University, -big enough for over a thousand scholars--I guess a thousand and a half. - -But I myself took more interest in visitin’ the Necropolous, as they -call their buryin’ ground, and seein’ the monument riz up to John Knox. -It towers up towards the sky dretful high; but not so high as John’s -principles loomed up--not nigh. - -And I wuz dretful interested while in the city in lookin’ at the -statutes of Sir Walter Scott, and James Watts, and David Livingstone, -and Robert Burns. - -And seein’ the place where Sir John Moore wuz born. - -It wuzn’t any better place than Elder Minkley wuz born in, to -Jonesville, or Deacon Blodgett up in Zoar. - -And as I looked onto the onpretentious walls I methought how it wuzn’t -likely at all when he wuz a baby, his Pa a-puttin’ up pills and powders -at the time, his Ma a-holdin’ his little helpless, dimpled form to her -bosom, that he would grow up to be sech a hero and die fur from her, -over in Spain, and “be buried darkly at dead of night.” - -And be left there cold and still, fur from kindred and loved -ones--“Alone in his glory.” - -Wall, here in this city I had a great and welcome surprise--Martin made -me a present of a Paisley shawl; they wuz manafectered in a place nigh -here, and Martin got me and Alice one. - -Men don’t realize sech things, but I knew, and Alice knew, that she -wouldn’t be old enough to wear hern for twenty years yet. But then, as -I told her, she would grow up to it in time. - -But she kinder laid out, as I could see, on coverin’ a lounge with it -in her _boodore_, which means her private settin’-room. - -I seldom use foreign languages, but when I do, I don’t think it is any -more ’n right to translate it for the benefit of ’em who hain’t had my -advantages. What would Philury, or she that wuz Submit Tewksbury, know -about a _boodore_? They’d probble think it wuz jewelry or some kind of -agin’. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -ROBERT BURNS AND HIGHLAND MARY. - - -Wall, from here we took some excursions to places of interest in the -vicinity. One of heart-thrillin’ interest wuz to Ayr, and lasted two -days, for Martin said he wanted to see every spot connected in any way -with Robert Burns. He said he didn’t care about readin’ his historys -and sermons, but it seemed to be the stylish and proper thing to do, so -he wouldn’t fail of doin’ it for anything. So we sot off one mornin’ -with great anticipations, and each on us a satchel, for the forty milds -trip. - -Josiah wuz riz up in his mind about Sir William Wallace--more so than -he wuz with Burns. - -For the “Scottish Chiefs” had been read by him with avidity in his -boyhood, and permeated his fancy, and he still thought it wuz the most -thrillin’ book that wuz ever wrote, exceptin’ “Alonzo and Melissa.” -“_That_,” he said, “never will be equalled for heart-breakin’ interest.” - -So as we journeyed along he talked a sight about Wallace and that -claymore of hisen. “Why,” sez he, “it must have weighed 4 hundred or 5 -hundred pounds. What a man he wuz to wield it as he did and cut down -his enemies with it! - -“Why,” sez he, “it would take two common men to lift it, they say, and -what a sight it must have been to see him swingin’ that round his head -and mowin’ down his enemies jest as Ury would mow down oats!” - -Sez I, “Josiah, I hope you are too good to enjoy sech a blood-curdlin’ -sight, if it ever took place, but you must be careful about believin’ -everything you hear about Wallace. I suppose that, like King Arthur, an -old Illiad that Thomas J. ust to read about so much, lots of things has -been told about him that never took place.” - -“Take care, Samantha; I can stand a good deal from a pardner, but when -you go to doubtin’ William Wallace, then is the time for a man to take -a stand. - -“Why, you’ll be a-doubtin’ ‘Thaddeus of Warsaw’ next. I wuz brung up on -them books,” sez he, “and on them books I take my stand. If I’d hefted -that claymore myself, I couldn’t believe in it any more ’n I do.” - -Sez I, a-tryin’ to bring him back into the plains of megumness and -reason-- - -“You know history sez that Wallace wuz a sheep-stealer, in the first -place. Don’t pin your faith onto him too much, Josiah Allen.” - -“A sheep-stealer!” - -Wall, I will pin up a heavy shawl between Josiah Allen and the public -for the next few minutes. I guess I’ll hang up my Paisley shawl, that’s -pretty thick, and I too will withdraw myself behind it. - -Suffice it to say when we emerged from behind it, I wuz a-sayin’-- - -“Wall, wall, I spoze like as not he did own a claymore, Josiah Allen, -and I dare say it wuz a pretty hefty one.” And then I turned the -subject off onto Robert Burns, and bagpipes, and sech. - -Truly there is a time for pardners to stand their ground, and a time -for ’em to gin in. When they see blood-vessels are on the pint of -bustin’ and pardners are chokin’ with rage--gin in to ’em if you can, -and keep your principles. - -I allers foller this receipt, and it has bore me on triumphant. - -Truly great is the mystery of pardners. - -Wall, Josiah got real sentimental a-talkin’ about Wallace’s first wife, -Marion, and his second wife, Helen Mar. “You know,” sez Josiah, “Helen -said in them last hours--‘My life must expire with his.’” - -And I sez, “Wall, it did at jest about the same time--she died of a -broken heart,” sez I, bein’ willin’ to talk kind o’ sentimental with -him, and soothe him down. - -“Yes,” sez Josiah, “and don’t you remember what Bothwell said ‘as he -raised her clay-cold face from Wallace’s coffin’-- - -“‘They loved in their lives, and in their deaths they shall not be -divided’?” - -Josiah was dretful sentimental at them reminescences, but he gradually -chirked up agin, and by the time we come in sight of that tower of -William Wallace’s, in Ayr, more’n a hundred feet high, Josiah’s sperits -riz up almost as high as that tower. - -Ayr is the seen of some of the most thrillin’ events of Wallace’s life. -Here he would sally out aginst his enemies--here he wuz took by ’em and -imprisoned. Here Robert Bruce and his troops made it their headquarters -for a spell, and so did Cromwell and his army. - -It is a dretful interestin’ spot on lots of accounts, but on none of -’em so much as bein’ the birthplace of Robert Burns. - -The humble cottage where the immortal flower of Genius sprung up like a -tall white lily out of the dust of the wayside-- - -This cottage is on the banks of Bonny Doon-- - - There Simmer first unfaulds her robes, - And there she langest tarries, - And there he took his last farewell - Of his sweet Highland Mary. - -The immortal tenderness and sweetness of that love meetin’ and partin’ -has made the waters of Bonny Doon ripple along full of the melodies of -the past. - -In Nater there is a universal tendency to retain the good and -beautiful, and forgit the commonplace and dreary. We forgit the -steamin’ vats and big cheeses Mary must have had to turn and lift at -her place of service, Gavin Hamilton’s, or, as Burns called it--“The -Castle of Montgomerie.” - -We forgit all the toilsome labor that must have turned Mary’s pretty -hands brown and hard, and made her slim back ache. - -We forgit the achin’ “Ploughman shanks” the laborer Burns must have -carried sometimes to their trystin’ place beside the Bonny Doon. - -For though you may lighten the labor of ploughin’ by religious poems, -like the “Cotter’s Saturday Night,” or brave, heroic ones, like “Scots -wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,” or verses to “A Mouse” and “A Mountain -Daisy”-- - - “Wee sleekit, cowerin’, tim’rous beastie,” - -and - - “Wee modest, crimson-tippéd flower,” - -and “Brigs” and “Glens” and “Water-fowls--” - -And though he may have added a flavor to it by sarcastic verses to -“Holy Willie,” and “The Deil,” and “The Unco Guid”-- - -Yet to hold the heavy plough as it tore its long furrows in the flinty -soil wuz weary work, and the back and arms of the poet must have ached -as sorely as any other ploughman’s. - -But you forgit all that; they dwell here forever care free, serene in -glowin’ youth and beauty. - -How near they seemed to me, these immortal lovers, as I stood there -lost in thought by the ripplin’ waters of the Bonny Doon! - -The white clouds floated along in the same blue bendin’ Heavens; the -bright waters dimpled and laughed along jest as gayly and crystal -clear, and their memory dominated all things above and below. - -Here they stood, happy youth and maiden, beside the overrunnin’ Doon, -that carries ’em on, and will carry ’em on forever, through the land of -Love and of Fame. - -She is a-lookin’ up with blue, love-lit eyes into his eager, ardent -face. He is sayin’ to her, as he did a hundred years ago-- - - “Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, - And leave auld Scotia’s shore? - Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, - Across the Atlantic’s roar? - - Oh, sweet grow the lime and the orange, - And the apple on the pine; - But a’ the charms o’ the Indies - Can never equal thine.” - -And agin he is sayin’, as we imagine, with a smile and a tear in his -half sad, half humorous way-- - - “Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing, - Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, - I wad wear thee in my bosom, - Lest my jewel I should tine. - Wishfully I look and languish - In that bonnie face o’ thine; - And my heart it stounds wi’ anguish, - Lest my wee thing be na mine.” - -Wall, his forebodin’ wuz correct; Death, a more triumphant and constant -lover than poor Burns would have been, bore off the bonny lassie into -his icy but secure realm--mebby beyend the star her bereft lover -apostrophized so long afterwards a-talkin’ to her “dear departed -shade--” - - “Thou ling’ring star, with less’ning ray, - That lovest to greet the early morn; - Again thou usher’st in the day - My Mary from my soul was torn.” - -[Illustration: This immortal pair of lovers.] - -But though Death bore her off in her first sweet youth, and him long -years after, a sad, middle-aged man, with a big family of children, who -called another woman mother--still they stand there by the Bonny Doon. - - -The blue eyes and the brown eyes (that have been dust for a century) -are still lookin’ love to each other. - -Warm, clingin’ hands, that can hardly be torn apart, love so great that -it fills the universe--love! constancy! despair! heartache! flowin’ out -from the rapt atmosphere that surrounds this immortal pair of lovers; -it is a power that enfolds all feelin’ hearts. - -The deep emotions that sanctified that spot live on still in the heart -of the world. - -Devotion! heart-breakin’ grief! death! eternity! they are all brought -nearer as we stand by these sparklin’ waters that flow on forever, -whisperin’ the names of Robert Burns and his Highland Mary. - -Other thoughts come to us anon, or a little later--thoughts of the -labors and struggles of the poet to make a home and respectable livin’ -for his family. - -The warm poet nater, endowed, as all true poet souls are, with the -fiery “love of love, and hate of hate, and scorn of scorn,” tryin’ to -make its way in a practical, money-lovin’ age. - -It wuz some like takin’ an eagle down from the heights, and trainin’ it -to become a barn-yard fowl, or breakin’ in a wild gazelle to churn in -a treadle machine. - -It wuz hard work! - -And the fashionable world, that took him up with the interest it would -give to a new toy of a novel design, soon grew weary of him, and turned -away coldly from the strugglin’ poet, in his unequal conflict with poor -land, high rents, misaprehension, poverty, and hardships. - -No wonder he turned away from the world at last and said to poor Jean -(she that wuz Jean Armour), the wife who had been constant to him in -evil and good report-- - - “I am wearin’ awa’, Jean; - Like snow in a thaw, Jean, - I am wearin’ awa’ - To the Land o’ the Leal. - - “And there I would be fain - In the Land o’ the Leal.” - -No wonder he said it, poor creeter! - -I spoze the gay world apoligized for its neglect and coldness by sayin’ -that Burns drinked and cut up. - -Wall, I spoze he did--some; but he wuz a good-hearted creeter. - -And anyway they overlooked it in the first place, and ’em who worship -his memory now look calmly over them faults as if they were mere specks -on a blazin’ sun. - -Why didn’t they do so then? Why didn’t they take a few of the posies -they scatter on his cold tomb to-day (one hundred years too late) and -lay ’em in the tired, hard-workin’ hands, toilin’ on at Nithsdale? - -Why didn’t they take a few bits from the banquets they spread now -to his memory (one hundred years too late) and give it to the -half-starvin’ poet and his wife and little ones, while it would have -done some good? - -Why didn’t they take a little of the immense sums they spend in marble -blocks and shafts to rear monuments to him all over the world, to buy a -few comforts for himself and his loved ones? - -For what did almost his last letter state, he had writ to a friend -askin’ some relief, for without it, he sez-- - -“If I die not of disease, I must perish of hunger.” - -Heart-sick with the tyrrany of his employers, the little minds about -him, who mebby rejoiced to tyrranize over and torment a soul so much -above their own. Heart-sick with the neglect of the world, he fell -asleep July 21st, 1795. - -About a month before his death he writ to a friend-- - -“As to my individual self I am tranquil, but Burns’ poor widow and half -a dozen of his dear little ones, helpless orphans. Here I am weak as a -woman’s tear, ’tis half of my disease,” etc. - -I should think Scotland would be ashamed of herself. I honestly should, -to let her greatest pride and glory die of a broken heart, caused by -her neglect and heartlessness, and then praise him up so and spend sech -sums of money on his tombstones, and things (one hundred years too -late). - -But, then, it’s a trait in human nater. Scotland hain’t the only -country that duz it. - -It is nateral to torment and torture the soarin’ bird of Genius, and -pluck out the plumage from its quiverin’ flesh one at a time--cut its -feathers down, hang weights to its wings, and act. - -And then when the agonized and heart-broken soul has took its flight -out of the tortured body, to stuff that soulless effigy with the -softest and warmest stuffin’ of praise and appreciation, put jewels in -the blind eye sockets, cover the cold breast with diamond bright stars -of praise, and lift it up on high, up on top of the soarinest monuments -they can raise to its honor. - -Too late, _too late_! - -But I am indeed a-eppisodin’; and to resoom. - -Everybody in the village had sunthin’ to say of Burns. Everybody wuz -proud of livin’ in the place his feet had once trod. - -Them who looked the coldest on him when livin’, or descendents of them -who had wrung his sensitive soul while warm and beatin’, and achin’ for -sympathy-- - -Descendents of the big man of the village, “Holy Willie” himself, who -once would not have spoken to his humble neighbor, or if he’d spoken at -all, they’d been words of insult that would have rankled in the soul of -the poet, now considered it their greatest pride and honor to live in -the country that gave him birth. - -The cottage is a low, long buildin’ only one story high. And jest think -of it, how many are born in five-story houses that nobody hears from -afterwards. The roof is thatched, the floors are stun, clean and white. -A cupboard full of dishes stood on one side of the room. - -There wuz some letters that Burns writ with his own hand. I thought -more of seein’ ’em than any of the other relicks. Letters that his -own hand rested on--his own ardent, handsome face had bent over. What -emotions they gin me; I never can tell the heft and number on ’em. - -Yes, the thought of Burns filled the place, jest as some strong, rich -perfume fills the hull room where it has been spilt. - -I didn’t hear much of anything said about Miss Burns (she that wuz Jean -Armour), but I took quite a considerable spell of time and devoted it -to jest thinkin’ about her. I didn’t think it wuz no more’n right that -I should. - -I spoze she felt real proud to be the wife of sech a great man, and -it wuz a great thing. But, then, she had her troubles. Poor thing! -patient, hard-workin’ creeter! Washin’ dishes, mendin’ clothes, takin’ -care of the children, takin’ all the care she could of her husband. And -then when she got him all mended up for the week, and as good vittles -for him as she could with what she had to do with--then to have him -a-writin’ verses to other wimmen! - -A-takin’ the strength her own pot-pies and puddin’s had gin him, and -a-spendin’ it all on writin’ verses to other females. - -His heart a-beatin’ voyalent aginst the vest she had newly vamped for -some other “Chloris” or “Clorinda” or etc., etc., etc., etc. - -A-walkin’ off in the stockin’s she had new heeled to catch a glimpse of -some “lassie wi’ lint white locks,” so’s he could put her rustic beauty -into rhyme. - -A-throwin’ himself down in a good coat that she’d jest washed and -fixed up, to look up into the sky and apostrofize some other female up -in Heaven. - -It must have been tough on Jean--fearful gauldin’ to her! - -But, then, mebby she wuz willin’ to have the fire of his genius catch a -brightness and glow from any object. And woman’s beauty wuz always, to -Robert Burns, what the very best kindlin’ wood is to me when vittles are -to be produced in a hurry. - -Mebby she looked on it with a lenitent eye--most likely she did, or she -couldn’t thought so much on him as she did. - -I guess he wuz a good, tender husband to her, and a good provider, so -fur as his means went. - -But thinks I, here is another sample of the devotion and constancy of -my own sect. I thought on her about 17 minutes. - -Other tourists may foller my example or not, jest as they think best, -but I done it, and am glad on’t. But to resoom. - -We then went to see the old Bridge of Ayr, whose single arch connects -each green shore. It wuz over this bridge that Tam o’ Shanter rode on -the old mair Maggie, pursued by witches, “Wi’ mony an eldritch screech -and hollow.” - -And I eppisoded some. I have to in the strangest places. I methought -that the same furies that pursued the drunken Tam is still sold in the -same old inn, and even in the very birthplace of the poet. - -[Illustration: The same furies that pursued the drunken Tam.] - -The same sperits of delerious fear, and senseless terror, are bought -and sold at so much a glass. Poets live and poets die--empires rise -and empires fall, but whiskey has to be sold jest the same. Drunkards -race through their sottish lives, hag rid by the furies of drink and -debauch. And mairs have to be rid to death, and have their tails cut -off. - -Sez Josiah, “It wuz probble a witch that cut off the mair’s tail.” - -Till he answered me, I hadn’t mistrusted that I wuz a-eppisodin’ out -loud. - -Sez I, “That is to tippify how drunkards abuse their animals, most -likely,” sez I, “and to show that these foul sperits don’t have no -power where pure water is in full sway. - -“The drink demon hates water,” sez I. - -But Josiah sez--“Wall, wall! I didn’t walk out here to hold a -Temperance Meetin’!” Sez he sarcastickally, “This hain’t a Total -Abstinence Society!” - -Sez I, “It’s a pity there wuzn’t one here a hundred years ago!” Sez I, -“Probble it would have saved poor Burns from a good deal that he went -through, and,” sez I, “it would be a-settin’ a different sample before -young folks from the one that wuz sot, and is still a-settin’--a sample -his genius, and noble qualities, and his light-hearted good nater tempt -’em to foller.” - -Sez Josiah, “Hain’t you got a Temperance Pledge round you, Samantha, or -some badges, or some banners, or white ribbins, or sunthin’?” - -Sez he ironacly, “I could carry a banner with ‘Temperance’ or ‘W. C. -T. U.’ on it jest as well as not, and I’d ruther lug it round and be -done with it than to have to everlastin’ly hear on’t.” - -“Wall,” sez I soothin’ly, “we will go back now and have a good lunch.” - -And as we wended along, I meditated that mebby I hadn’t gin enough -thought to my pardner’s feelin’s. For truly mortals have not now any -more than in the time of Burns the “gift to see oursels as ithers see -us.” - -But I wuz upheld by thinkin’ I’d talked on principle, and that is a -dretful upholdin’ thought. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -EDINBURGH AND MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. - - -Wall, from Glasgow we went to Edinburgh, and we found that that wuz a -beautiful city, beautiful, with the ancient castle perched up on the -rocks four hundred feet above, and old Edinburgh a-lyin’ at its feet, -like old Vassals that gathers round their Chieftan; all on ’em aged, -but loth to part. - -The streets of old Edinburgh are so narrer that you can almost reach to -both sides of ’em and touch the houses. - -The houses, with pinted ruffs and gabriel ends, are quaint and -picturesque in the extreme, and interestin’. - -Between the new and the old is a gulf, as there often is, but partly -filled up with a R. R. Station, and statutes and gardens and handsome -bridges are throwed acrost it. - -New Edinburgh is laid out dretful handsome, with broad, wide streets -and handsome buildin’s, and statutes and fountains and parks and -everything else that it needs for its comfort; and it might have got -along with less on ’em, it seemed to me. I rode through ’em, for Martin -always said he wanted to view every city exhaustively. - -And we did it every time we rid out with him; I come home perfectly -exhausted. He wanted to see so much, so much, in sech a short, sech a -very short time. - -Yes, indeed! - -Oh, dear me suz! - -When Josiah and me went alone by ourselves we took as much agin -comfort, for though mebby I didn’t see so many things, I see ’em much -better. My brain didn’t reel nigh so much, nor my spectacles wobble so. - -Why, with Martin I would no sooner git them specs sot on anything, -a steeple or anything, but them poor specs would have to do as poor -little Joe did, that Dickens wrote about, “move along,” and move -lively, too. - -I wuz sorry for ’em and for the eyes under ’em. - -Yes, indeed, I wuz! - -Half of the time Martin wouldn’t look at the different things at all. -But he said that he had never visited Edinburgh before, and that he -wanted to take in all the sights. - -And I believe my soul wuz raced through every solitary street that day -we wuz out together. - -He seemed to feel well when we got back to the hotel, he seemed to sort -o’ wake up or roust up. I d’no as he had been sound asleep, mebby he’d -been in a deep study about sunthin’--about his money-makin’, I guess. -But his eyes wuz shet a good deal of the time. - -But he said, with a happy look, that we had accomplished a great deal. - -I knew he’d accomplished one thing, he had jest about killed one female. - -And my poor pardner! poor creeter! wuz not his looks pitiful? He bore -up in Martin’s sight (that man is kinder deceitful, but I wouldn’t want -him to hear that I said it). - -But when we wuz alone, he would take on, and limp, more’n I believe wuz -neccessary. - -Sez I--“You’ve no need to limp, Josiah; you rid most all the way.” - -“Rid! I should think I had rid! I’m bed rid, that’s what ails me! I -never shall be good for nothin’ agin. We’ve been four hundred milds -sence we sot out, if we’ve been a step!” - -And he sunk down onto the bed and groaned loud, so’s you could hear him -quite a good ways. - -“Wall,” sez I, “let’s bear up under it the best we can--it’s all paid -for.” - -“What good duz payin’ for a thing do that kills you?” Sez he, “When -you’re killed, payin’ for things hain’t a-goin’ to help you! Oh! if I -ever set foot on my farm agin,” sez he, “I’ll never leave it to go to -meetin’, or anywhere.” - -No megumness here, as I could see, but I pitied him and sympathized -with him deeply. - -Sez I, “It would seem dretful good, wouldn’t it, Josiah, to see you -a-comin’ in with two pails of milk? It would be jest about this time -you’d want the milk scum for the calves.” - -“Don’t mention it!” he groaned, “them happy times wuz too happy to -last; we didn’t appreciate ’em.” - -“No,” sez I; “don’t you remember how you ust to dum the calves, and -barn chores?” - -“I praised ’em always,” sez he stoutly, “and I’d ruther milk my hull -herd of Jerseys now this minute than to eat!” - -Sez I, “I don’t believe I appreciated how happy I wuz a-standin’ by -the buttery winder, calm and peaceful, a-washin’ dishes, or a-skimmin’ -milk, and a-seein’ the red sun a-sinkin’ low beneath Balcom’s hill; -and the sweet south wind a-wavin’ the mornin’-glory vines, and my -snow-white strainer spread on the blossomin’ rose-bush under the -winder. And the sight of the barns lookin’ so good, and sort o’ settled -down and at rest, and the hen-house, and the ash-house, and the -garden--” - -“And how I ust to ketch the old mair,” sez Josiah, “and we’d ride over -and see the children after the chores wuz done. Oh! happy days,” sez -he, “we never shall see you agin!” - -“Yes you will, Josiah Allen,” sez I; “bear up, and we will anon be back -in our own peaceful home.” - -And wantin’ to roust him up still further out of his despondency, I -sez, “You will enjoy that home better than ever now, for how you will -enjoy tellin’ Uncle Smedley all about what you see to-day, Josiah -Allen.” - -He brightened up; “Yes, Samantha, if I ever live to get home, it will -be a treat to tell what we went through, and,” sez he, “won’t Uncle -Smedley open his eyes when I tell him of----” - -Alas! alas! I had done what I sot out to do. I had lightened my -pardner’s gloom, but wearisome wuz the hours I spent a-hearin’ him -rehearse what he wuz a-goin’ to tell the Jonesvillians. - -Oh, the peticulars, oh, the peticulars! It wuz hard to tread the ground -over under the rain of a Martin, but it wuz harder still to hear ’em -rehearsed by the voice of a Josiah. - -But of course I lived through it, or I wouldn’t be here to tell the -tale. - -Martin always done the fair thing, so fur as gittin’ good places to -stay wuz concerned, and we had a plenty of everything for our comfort, -only jest that one thing--rest. - -But my onusual common sense learnt me that I mustn’t expect to be to -home and on a tower at the same time. - -And I felt quite grateful to Martin for invitin’ us to go with him--a -good deal of the time I did; and I tried to do my part as well as I -could. I kep’ a eye on Adrian, and see that his clothes and feet wuz -dry, and see that he learnt his Sunday-school lesson, and see that -Alice took her cough medicine every day; and when Martin took it into -his head to go off for a day or two, he felt easy about the children, -knowin’ my love and care for ’em couldn’t be excelled and gone beyend -by anybody. He said it wuz a great care offen his mind, and made him -feel at liberty to go and come. - -He had to see certain men on business in these different countries -where we went, and I presoom he did feel better to know that the -children had some one with ’em that loved ’em while he was off milds -away for days at a time. - -And Alice kep’ a-sayin’ every day that she couldn’t have got along -without me anyway. And I presoom I wuz some company for her; anyway, I -loved her, and she knew it. You can’t hide sech feelin’s under a bushel. - -And lots of times I gladly, _gladly_ stayed to home with Adrian while -Alice went out with her Pa. She would say so sweetly that it wuz too -bad to deprive me of the pleasure of goin’ out with her Pa. - -And I would say, “Don’t mention it, Alice; I am perfectly willin’ to -stay to home with Adrian.” And Heaven knows I spoke the truth! - -She would come home, the horses covered with sweat, and Martin and -herself all fagged out; but the fagness of 20 hain’t like the fagness -of----more maturer and older years. - -And in the mornin’ she’d be ready for another start. - -Of course some of the excursions I gladly jined in. I wuz glad enough -to go to see Holyrood Palace, once the home of Mary Stuart, Queen of -Scots--Miss Darnley, she that wuz Stuart. - -The most interestin’ queen that ever walked down the pages of history. -A-walkin’ along with her big, soft eyes bent kinder downwards under -that cap of hern, and her sweet face a-drawin’ men’s hearts out of -their bodies to foller her to the throne, or the scaffold, as she trod -onwards. Heaven pity her for her sorrow! If she wuz true or false, she -atoned for her sin, poor thing! by the hardness of her fate. - -Poor Mary! poor Miss Stuart that wuz! I wuz always sorry for her, and -I always believed her cousin Lizabeth wuz jealous of her. - -You know Lib wuzn’t very good-lookin’, and she wuz as vain as a -pea-hen, and it gaulded her to have her cousin praised up so to her. - -Relations are dretful mean sometimes, they’re dretful jealous of -each other--cousins specially; and though they don’t make a practice -of beheadin’ the ones they are jealous of, yet they stab ’em with -the sharp, pizened daggers of detraction, lies, hatred, envy, mean -insinuations, total incomprehension of their motives, etc., etc., etc. - -So if you have to live nigh ’em, you might jest about as well have your -head cut off, and done with it. - -But to resoom. We see the rooms, not very big either, that poor Mary, -Queen of Scots, ust to live in. - -It made me feel real bad to see in what a condition her rooms wuz kep’. -Poor thing! it seems as if she went through with enough while she wuz -alive to have some respect paid to her memory now, and her rooms kep’ -clean. - -But they wuz dusty and dingy lookin’. The curtains round the bed where -that pretty head ust to lay a-dreamin’--what?--wuz all ragged. - -I wouldn’t have sech ragged things in my back chamber. But, poor thing! -I didn’t lay anything to her; my rooms git out of order if I leave ’em -for three days. And if I wuz away for three hundred years, mine would -look jest as bad, and mebby worse. - -Josiah wuz dretful took up in lookin’ at them blood spots in the -anty-room, but I wouldn’t look at ’em. Sez I-- - -“If them stains are made new every few days from beef creeters, hens, -or etcetery, I certainly don’t want to see ’em. And if they’re made by -the blood of that Italian Rizzio, I wouldn’t give a cent to see ’em.” - -Sez I, “I’m sorry for him, but I don’t believe he wuz what he ort to -be. Anyway, he ort to known he wuz a-makin’ trouble in a family; men -ortn’t to make pardners jealous of ’em if they can help it. But,” sez -I, after thinkin’ a minute, “I d’no as he could help it. That fatal -power Mary wielded held him, poor creeter! and drawed him on to his -fate, jest as it did the jealous pardner, when the time come.” - -Wall, I had sights of emotions in that palace and in the chapel -adjoinin’, where we trod over the graves of so many kings and queens -once so high and mighty, now nothin’ but dust. - -[Illustration] - -Curous, curous, hain’t it? Wall, I went with ’em to visit the castle -of Edinburgh. And the view from them rampants wuz so wide and extended -that Josiah vowed he could see clear over to Jonesville. I disputed -him, but he said and stuck to it, that he recognized the steeple. - -I knew better, but it wuz a grand and sweepin’ view as I ever see, or -ever expect to see. All Scotland lay spread out before us, some as our -old map would if it wuz spread on the kitchen floor, and I looked down -on it from the top of the kitchen table. - -We see the room here where poor Mary, Queen of Scots, gave birth to -a prince, James VI., afterwards James 1st of England. What she went -through in this room! For when her baby wuz only eight days old it wuz -let down in a basket from the cliff. Jest think on’t, sech a little -baby let down four hundred feet; but it wuz to save his life, and she -stood it. - -Here we see the crown that they said rested on the head of Robert -Bruce. And we see the place where so many, so many politicians had -their heads cut off. - -I didn’t like to hear sech talk, and I showed that I didn’t by my -mean. But I proposed that we should jine Martin. He wuz a-settin’ down -in front of them rampants a-addin’ up a row of figgers in a account -book. - -He said that it wuz some home business that had to be attended to. As -he put the book back in his pocket, and proposed that we should start -for somewhere else, I sez, “The view is enchantin’ from here, hain’t -it, Martin?” - -“Yes,” sez he in a absent-minded way, without turnin’ his head-- - -“Yes; there! I forgot to add that last five thousand dollars to the -balance,” and he wrote it down as we walked onwards. - -But my remark wuz evidently a-hangin’ round in some by-place in his -mind, for he presently remarked as he went down the path-- - -“Yes, as you say, the view is perfectly enchanting.” - -And he gazed dreamily at the rocks that riz up before us and shet out -every mite of view from that place. - -Al Faizi stood on the lofty eminence a-lookin’ off in silence, and it -seemed as though he couldn’t hardly be tore from the seen; and the -grandeur and beauty wuz reflected in his eyes, some as you can see -your own face in a pardner’s orbs if you look clost and lovin’ into ’em. - -Alice and Adrian wuz a-walkin’ along, and seemed to be enjoyin’ -themselves first-rate. - -Adrian wuz a-askin’ her quite a number of questions about Robert Bruce -and King James, etc., etc., and she wuz a-answerin’ him quite lusid; -bein’ so late at school made her quite a adept in history, adepter than -any of the rest of us wuz, by fur. - -Wall, we went to the Church of St. Giles, and we see the Heart of Mid -Lothian. I had heard Thomas J. read the story, and I wuz interested in -it. - -In the northwest corner of the church there is a heart cut in the -pavement, and here the old Tolbooth, the city prison, first stood. In -St. Giles Churchyard John Knox wuz buried. - -The grave-stun has nothin’ but his initial and the date of his death. -As I looked at it, I thought what long epitaphs--and in poetry, too, -some on ’em--failed to git any attention from posterity. But as long -as posterity lives--and I spoze that will be a good while yet--this -unasumin’ grave will be visited, for a Man lies buried here--a hero who -wuzn’t afraid to speak his mind, and who follered the right, so fur as -he see it, through good and evil report. - -Wall, in the Parliament House we see a copy of the first Bible that wuz -ever printed. That gin me a sight of emotions--a sight; and I had quite -a number of emotions a-seein’ the manuscript of the Waverley Novels, -and in meditatin’ that Walter’s own hand rested on these pages. - -Kinder tired hands some of the time, no doubt, and the eyes above heavy -from study and toil. And he (Walter) not a-dreamin’ how so many years -after she who wuz once Smith would stand and look on ’em with respect -and almost veneration. - -No; he didn’t have this to encourage him and make him happy, poor -creeter! - -But how well he did; how much happiness he has gin, and how much -valuable information has been took onbeknown from the pages of his -stories, like powders of smartweed in a spunful of honey. - -Old Gray Friar’s Church and churchyard wuz dretful interestin’ to us on -account of a good many things. - -Alice and I wuz extremely interested to learn that here wuz where -Walter Scott ust to come to meetin’ in his young days. And to see the -graves of his Pa and his Ma, and some of the rest of his folks in the -old churchyard. - -In this meetin’-house the National Covenant wuz signed in 1638. After -listenin’ to a heart-searchin’ sermon by Alexander Henderson this -paper wuz signed by the Earl of Sutherland, and all the rest of the -folks who wuz to meetin’ that day. It wuz then took out into the -buryin’-ground outside, and spread out on a flat tombstone--a fittin’ -spot, jedgin’ from what come afterwards--and signed by crowds and -crowds of the people. Some writ their names in blood, showin’ their -willingness to die for the Faith. - -[Illustration: The National Covenant signed by the Earl of Sutherland.] - -This wuz the Confession of Faith of 1580, drawed up by the principal -Presbyterian ministers of Edinburgh. Them that signed it agreed to -protect and preserve their religion even to the death. - -And these Covenanters wuz persecuted and killed for their faith, -and then, when they wuz in power, they wuz jest as cruel to their -persecutors. - -And all in the name of Religion. Sweet sperit, how can she stand it? -But I spoze she made allowances for ’em, a-thinkin’ they wuz mistook. - -Al Faizi looked down in silence on the stun with a railin’ round it -where the Covenant wuz written. And finally he took out that book of -hisen with a cross on it, and he writ quite a lot in it. What it wuz I -d’no. - -And as he stood in front of that monument, riz up there to the memory -of the martyrs put to death for their religion, he writ a hull lot more. - -I myself got a piece of paper from Josiah’s account book, and I had a -pencil with me, and I copied this inscription, so’s to let Thomas J. -see it. - -It wuz dretful readin’. As History held up her torch to light me as I -writ it down, mournin’ weeds seemed to wrop her round and droop over -her forward, and her face looked cold and pale and awful out from under -them weeds. It read as follers-- - -And I thought, I can tell you, as I read it of how Miss Argyll felt -and Miss Renwick and the children, for though it is a good ways back, -it hurt jest as bad to have your head cut off then as it duz now, and -hearts of loved ones who wuz left ached jest as bad. - -It read as follers-- - -“From May 27, 1661, that the most noble Marquise of Argyll was -beheaded, to the 17th of February, 1668, that Mr. James Renwick -suffered, were one way or other murdered or destroyed for the same -cause about 18,000, of whom were executed in Edinburgh about 100 of -noblemen, gentlemen, ministers, and other noble martyrs for Jesus -Christ.” - -Al Faizi’s face wuz a deep study as he stood there. - -And he sez to Martin, who had sauntered up and wuz a-lookin’ round, -with his hands in his pantaloons pockets-- - -Sez Al Faizi--“This war was between Presbyterians and Catholics?” - -“Yes,” sez Martin. - -“Both of these religious sects thought they were right?” - -“Yes,” sez Martin; “I suppose so.” - -“They both send missionaries to my people?” - -“Yes,” sez Martin; “quite likely; of course they do.” - -Al Faizi didn’t say nothin’, but he writ down quite a lot more; what it -wuz I d’no. - -But his face looked very thoughtful, and the light struck that jewelled -cross on the back of his little book, and its rays streamed out as red -as blood. - -But he kinder shifted it a little after awhile, and a pure and lambient -light gleamed from it. - -Queer! I’d like to know what them stuns wuz. - -I d’no what Josiah did think as he looked at that monument, but I had a -sight of emotions, and of great size. And I sez to my pardner-- - -“One thing I am impressed by as I read of these dretful things done by -men who thought they wuz doin’ right,” sez I, “it learns me to not be -too set in my own way, even when I think I am right.” - -Sez Josiah, “I always knew you wuz too sot!” - -Somehow the words grated on my nerve. It is so much easier to run -yourself down than to be run. - -But right here in front of so many martyrs I wuzn’t goin’ to be -overcome by a muskeeter, for truly my sufferin’s wuzn’t bigger than -that, compared to theirn. - -And I wuz jest a-goin’ to complete my self-conquest by speakin’ soft to -him, when he whispered to me-- - -“I’m as hungry as a bear, Samantha. Not a bear in a circus,” sez he, -“but a Rocky Mountain bear. - -“I wonder if Martin hain’t about ready to go?” - -Wall, Martin wuz ready by that time; but I see lots of other things -whilst we wuz there. Alice and Martin went to the Queen’s Drive. I d’no -who the Queen wuz, nor who she driv, nor how fur. - -And they went to the ruins of St. Anthony’s Chapel, and Alice raved -over the beautiful view from Arthur’s Seat. I d’no what kind of a seat -it wuz, nor how long Arthur sot in it, but she said that the view from -there wuz enchantin’. And we all went to the Antiquarian Museum, and -see sights and sights of relicks. Autograph letters from Charles 2nd, -Cromwell, Mary, Queen of Scots, and we see the old Scotch Covenant with -the names of Montrose, Lothair, etc., signed to it. And one of the -banners them Covenanters had bore in their battles. - -Here wuz the very glass that Prince Charlie drank from before the -battle of Culloden. And then the pulpit of John Knox; out of which that -man three hundred years ago thundered out sech burnin’ words agin the -Church of Rome. - -Here is a piece of the last garments put on to Robert Bruce, and in -which he was laid in his last sleep--a sound sleep. Poor creeter! -disturbed not by the warlike bugles and sounds of fray. - -And here is the blue ribbin of the Knight of the Garter, wore by Prince -Charlie, and the ring gin to him by Flora Macdonald as they parted. - -[Illustration: When Prince Charlie and Flora Macdonald parted.] - -And then there wuz sights and sights of weepons, coins, medallions, -seals, old implements, etc., etc. - -But one thing I see there madded me more’n considerable; it wuz a kind -of a gullotine rigged up with a axe, that wuz held up between two -posts, and let down on the necks of ’em they wanted to kill. This very -thing took the life of the Earl of Argyll, Sir John Gordon, and lots of -others. - -But what madded me most wuz the name of the creeter. - -“The Maiden.” - -It is a wonder they didn’t call it the “Old Maiden,” if they’d wanted -to be a little meaner. - -It rousted me up fearfully to think a lot of men should rig up such a -horrid, death-dealin’ thing to carry out their bloody and brutal idees -and then call it--“Maiden.” - -Why didn’t they call it after their own selves, and call it--the “Old -Man,” or “the Feller,” or sunthin’ like that? - -“The Maiden!!!” - -No woman would countenance sech cuttin’ off the heads of folks, and -they knew it. They named it so to be mean. - -And Martin, sayin’ that it would be expected of him, and he should have -questions asked him by influential parties which he should want to -answer, went to see lots of Horsepitals, and Schools, and Universities. - -Josiah went with him one day, and come home and said Heriot’s -Horsepital beat anything he ever see for architecture, and, sez he, “it -wuz designed by Indigo Jones.” - -Sez I, “I don’t believe any woman ever named her babe ‘Indigo’ in this -world.” And I inquired, and found out that it wuz “Inigo.” - -Josiah said I hadn’t made out much. It wuzn’t any better name. But it -wuz. - -Indigo! the idee!! - -A little ways out of the town is the home where Doctor Guthrie lived, -and one of the most beautiful and interestin’ houses I see in Scotland -or anywhere else. It wuz the one his brother, Mr. Thomas Nelson, built. -Every American who goes to Scotland ort to walk by it and meditate out -a spell, anyway, if they don’t go in. - -Durin’ our late war, when foreign nations thought our great republic -wuz a-totterin’ over to ruin, this man had faith in us, and invested -thousands of pounds in goverment bonds. - -And the rise in them bonds paid every cent this palace of hisen cost. I -didn’t begrech it to him, not at all. - -Them in England who invested so largely in Confederate bonds, and lost -every cent, wouldn’t be so happy in ridin’ by that noble structure and -lookin’ at it, mebby. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -MEMORIES OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. - - -And one excursion I took part in with the greatest delight and one -small satchel--for we wuz to stay one night--wuz to Melrose Abbey and -Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott. - -[Illustration: “I could sing to you,” sez he.] - -Josiah said he wanted to see Melrose Abbey by moonlight. He said it -would be so romantic, and, sez he, “I wish I could have a guitar. How -stylish and romantic it would be for you and me, Samantha, to visit it -by moonlight, and I could sing to you,” sez he. - -But I sez, “A old couple a-viewin’ that seen by moonlight, with thick -blanket shawls on, and heavy overshues--and I should wear ’em, Josiah,” -sez I, “and make you wear ’em, for our rumatizes is bad, and lookin’ up -at the moon through spectacles hain’t what it would be in younger and -less bundled-up days.” - -“Throw a blanket onto it!” sez he; “wet a blanket wet as sop, and throw -it onto my plan. I never can git you to foller up any idees of mine -that are stylish and romantic.” - -“I’ll foller ’em,” sez I, “but I’ve got to foller ’em with an eye on -azmy and rumatiz. And as for your singin’,” sez I, “it don’t seem as if -I can bear it.” And I shuddered imperceptibly; I thought of the near -past. - -But the rubber strings that men’s memories and consciences are strung -on a good deal of the time had sprung back, and he wuz jest as ready -to be sentimental and bust out in song as if he hadn’t been took for a -Banshee. - -But we visited the Abbey in broad daylight, which wuz better for our -two healths at our age. We went to the Abbey Hotel, close by the Abbey, -and after a comfortable dinner we went through the little iron gate -that leads into the grand and wonderful ruin. - -It must have been a sight, a sight, in its early days. But bein’ built -in the first place in 1136, it hadn’t ort to be expected to be in the -order it would have been if it had been built in 1836, and we’d call -that bein’ pretty old in our young country. - -Wall, we walked all round amongst the ruins, and the waves of the past -swashed up aginst me in a powerful manner. - -Here, sez I to myself, is the place where the heart of Robert Bruce -is buried. That eager, restless heart that dared so much, and endured -so much. Strange, passing strange that that great heart lays dumb and -mute, and Samantha Allen and her pardner are a-walkin’ over it. - -Here is the grave of the wizard that bold Deloraine visited, as I told -Josiah, and he looked down with scornful mean, and sez he-- - -“He has stopped his wizardin’ now!” - -Josiah has no veneration for the occult. - -And here lies the Earl of Douglas, and here is the tomb of King -Alexander 2nd. - -Hero, king, and wizard, all dust, and through the tall, ruined arches -the blue sky smiles down on all on ’em alike, and sweet Nater drops -on their restin’-places; on grave and monuments the same posies, and -flowers, and long sprays of ivy. - -Nater is the true democrat; she treats all alike. - -But what richness of carvin’ and design is to be seen on every side; -every ornament that wuz ever carved, it seems to me, wuz here on the -tall pillows and arches. And that east winder--wall, I wake up in -the night now, and think on’t, the perfect wonder and symetry of its -design, and the marvels of its stun sculptur. - -But how different folks look at things! Al Faizi, as he looked up and -around him, took in the beauty and majesty of the seen in every pore, -as you may say--you could see that in his liniment. - -Alice wuz took up with some of the marvellous statutes and sculpturs -of wreath and blossom. And Adrian wuz a-pickin’ some flowers. It -beat all what a case that child wuz for flowers. And Josiah wuz took -up, I guess, with musin’ on the failure of his romantic idees, as he -sauntered about. But Martin, when he’d been there about an hour, he -come up to me, and sez he-- - -“Now, having seen everything there is to see here, I think we had -better go. I expect some letters and telegrams,” sez he, “and I’ve seen -sufficient to reply to any inquiries that could be made of me at home.” - -Everything we could see! Why, I could have hung right round there for a -week and discovered some new wonder and beauty every hour. - -But it wuz compromised in this way: Martin went back to the hotel, and -Josiah and Adrian went with him. And Al Faizi and Alice and I stayed -till night wuz a-drawin’ down her mantilly previous to puttin’ it on. - -The soft linin’ on’t of crimson and gold wuz turned over in the west as -we walked back to the little hotel. - -Wall, the next mornin’, bright and early, Martin got a carriage, and -we drove three miles to Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott. - -By Martin’s advice (that man has good practical idees) we took our -waterproofs and umbrells. And glad enough wuz we that we did; why, in -all our trips almost waterproofs wuz neccessary companions; for short, -quick showers would descend upon us at any time seemin’ly, and then -pass away jest as quick. - -Three showers come up that very day, but two on ’em took place when we -wuz inside, and the third jest before we got home at night, so umbrells -and waterproofs saved us from damage. - -Wall, we found it wuz a beautiful place, castle and mansion, about half -and half. It stands in well-kep’, handsome grounds and sets down in a -sort of a valley amongst the hills which stands round it, as if proud -on’t and glad to shelter and protect it all they could. - -Home of industrious talent, so hard-workin’ and constant as to be as -good if not better than genius. - -The mansion and all round it is full of relicks of the past. - -The big entrance hall is panelled with dark wood, and all along the -cornice the different Coats of Arms of the Border is painted in rich -colors and shields, on which is this inscription-- - -“These be the coat armories of the clans and chief men of name wha -keepit the marchys of Scotland in the auld tyme for the kynge. True men -were they, in their defence. God them defendyt.” - -Here you see battle-axes and breastplates and weepons of all kinds. -Most all on ’em with a tragic history. Here wuz several suits of armor: -one on ’em holdin’ a big sword in its hand, captured at Bosworth’s -Field. Another holds a immense claymore took from the battlefield of -Culloden. - -Josiah wuz took up with the looks of that, and he said he wished he -owned one, and, sez he, “how nice it would be if I only had a coat of -armor! - -“Why, Samantha,” sez he, “how economical! When a man got one suit, he -never would have to be measured for another suit of clothes--never be -cheated by tailors or pinched by ’em. Cool in the summer,” sez he--“how -cool and good they would feel in dog-days, when broadcloth jest clings -to you; and warm in winter. The cold wind couldn’t blow through them -collars,” sez he, alludin’ to the helmets. - -“And then,” sez he, “when your clothes got dirty, jest wet a towel and -clean ’em off--you could do it in half an hour, and then they’d be good -for another twenty years. I wonder,” sez he, “if I could dicker with -the Widder Scott for one of them suits? Scott’ll never wear ’em agin,” -sez he. - -[Illustration: “When they got dirty, jest wet a towel and clean ’em -off.”] - -But I hastened to set him right, and, sez I, “Scott never wore one of -’em. He knew too much. How do you spoze,” sez I, “you could git round -and do your spring’s work a-luggin’ round a ton of old iron?” Sez I, -“You couldn’t lift one of the legs on’t with both your hands, and how -could you plough with one on ’em on?” - -Sez Josiah dreamily--he wuzn’t hearin’ a word I said-- - -“If I could git it cheaper without that head-piece, I might use our -coal scuttle.” Sez he, “I believe its shape is more stylish. Oh!” sez -he, “what a excitement I would make a-walkin’ into the Jonesville -meetin’-house with the hull thing on! how stylish and uneek it would be! - -“Where is the Widder Scott?” sez he; “I’ll tackle her about it.” - -Sez I, “She’s with her noble husband in a land where style and folly -have no home.” - -And then with deep argument I made him see that a suit of armor was not -suitable for farm work or meetin’-house duties. - -But he gin it up reluctant, and at the last he sez--“How it would clank -and rattle as I passed round the contribution plate--how all the other -deacons would open their eyes!” - -But I silently led him away to where there wuz a suit of Scott’s -clothes, the last ones he wore. - -And I had a very large variety of emotions as I looked on the clothes -that had wropped round the magician who had the power to charm the -hull world with his magic pen. My emotions drownded out the talk of -the guide and the remarks of Martin and Josiah. And on one side of the -fireplace stood the famous mistletoe trunk, as it’s called, that poor -Genevra hid herself in on her weddin’ night. The Baron’s daughter, you -know, the one that her Pa called “The star of that goodly company,” -meanin’, I spoze, that she looked better than any of the rest of the -young folks that he’d invited in to the weddin’. Poor, pretty, young -creeter! I wuz always dretful sorry for her. - -You know what she said to Lovell, the young feller she wuz married to -(he worshipped the very ground she walked on). - - “I am weary of dancing now, she cried; - Here tarry a moment, I’ll hide, I’ll hide; - And, Lovell, be sure thou’rt the first to trace - The clue to my secret hiding-place.” - -And you probble remember how the crazed young bridegroom, and the old -Baron, and all the rest of the weddin’ guests hunted for the pretty, -young creeter all night and all day, and for weeks and months and -years--all in vain, in vain. - -Till at last, when Lovell (poor, broken-hearted creeter!) wuz a old -white-headed man, a old chest wuz found in the castle, and they see, on -liftin’ up the led-- - - “A skeleton form lay mouldering there - In the bridal robes of the lady fair. - Oh, sad was her fate! In sportive jest - She hid from her lord in the old oak chest; - It closed with a spring, and her bridal bloom - Lay withering there in a living tomb. - Oh, the mistletoe bough! - Oh, the mistletoe bough!” - -But I don’t have any idee that it wuz the mistletoe that caused the -trouble. I spoze that it would have been jest the same if it had been -red cedar hung up there, or dog-wood. - -It wuz more likely a lack of common sense and lookin’ ahead. Genevra -ort to tried the lock and see how tight the led shet down, and had a -little forethought afore she got into it. - -But poor, young creeter! I don’t spoze she thought of anything, only -jest her light-hearted happiness and gayety, and wuz carried away by -the thought of foolin’ Lovell a little and havin’ a good time. - -Poor, pretty young thing, how she must have felt when the realizin’ -sense come to her that she wuz trapped in a death-trap, and should -never see the light of day agin, and, what wuz worse, should never see -the light of love a-shinin’ in her Lovell’s eyes! - -Oh, dear me! I wiped my eyes as this heart-searchin’ thought come to -me--what if it had been my Tirzah Ann. And I couldn’t help thinkin’ -that it would be jest like Tirzah to be ketched in that way. Maggie, my -son’s wife, would have looked at the ketch before she let the led down, -and she’d never wrinkled up a long white dress in that contracted place. - -But I am indeed a-eppisodin’ and to resoom. - -The entrance hall and the rooms leadin’ out of it are jest as Mr. Scott -left ’em, and that made me feel curous as a dog to look round me, and I -meditated and eppisoded to extreme lengths, to myself mostly. - -The library is a large and handsome room, lined with books, twenty -thousand in all. And underneath its deep, big winders runs the river -Tweed. - -How many times, when he got tired of writin’ down his rushin’ thoughts, -did Walter stand and lean up aginst the winder, and look down into the -rushin’ river! - -I leaned up aginst the side of the winder where he had leaned, and on -lookin’ down, I see that the river wuz still a-flowin’ along jest the -same. But the eager, active mind wuz--where? - -The dead water, with no soul, rushed and flowed on; the rocks couldn’t -stop it--no, it made a leap downward and flowed on more free and -placider. - -And I sez to myself--“Death’s rocky portals is jest the same; after -the leap down into the oncertainty--the darkness, it goes on in the -Certainty and the Light, fuller and freer than ever.” - -I didn’t say anything of these thoughts to my pardner. He wuz a-lookin’ -round at one thing and another, and not havin’ the deep feelin’s that I -had, as I could see. - -But Al Faizi wuz a-lookin’ down into the water or at the beautiful -landscape from another winder. And I’ll bet if I’d atted him about it -his idees would have been congenial to mine and inspirin’. I jedged so -from the looks of his liniment. - -But I knew he didn’t care about talkin’ much, so I restrained my tongue. - -The rest on ’em wuz a-prowlin’ round and a-lookin’ at -relicks--priceless ones, some on ’em--and I methought to myself volumes -as I looked on ’em. - -The clock of Marie Antoinette wuz there--what hours, what hours that -clock ticked off for Marie! - -And then there wuz the inkstand of Lord Byron--and what black, gloomy -ink and sometimes kinder nasty, that poor creeter dipped his pen in a -good deal of the time--but lofty and riz up, too, at times, very. - -And then there wuz two gold bees took from Napoleon’s carriage--what -bees buzzed and hummed in his ambitious brain as the carriage whirled -him on! Then there wuz a crucifix that belonged to Mary, Queen of -Scots; most probble held clost to her poor, frightened heart as the -pretty creeter walked away to have her head cut off. - -A miniature portrait of Prince Charlie, a box from Miss Edgeworth, a -purse made by Joanna Baillie, a little case from Miss Martineau, a -snuff-box of George IV., and lots, and lots, and lots of relicks from -Egypt and Italy and everywhere else. But I d’no as I see any from -Jonesville. But oversights will take place, and _contrarytemps_ will -occur. - -Wall, in the armory we see bows, and arrers, and spears, and muskets, -and rifles. A musket that belonged to Rob Roy, a sword gin by Charles -1st to the Marquis of Montrose, a pair of pistols that belonged to the -1st Napoleon, found after the battle of Waterloo. Poor creeter, how he -must have felt! No wonder he lost ’em! James VI. hunting flask, the key -of old Tolbooth prison. And then we see thumb-screws, and a gag for -scoldin’ wives--I looked on that with scorn. - -But Josiah jest peered and squinted at it, and walked all round it, and -took out a piece of string out of his pocket and tried to measure it, -and I sez, “What on earth are you a-doin’?” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I believe I could make one of ’em after I got home, -with a little of Ury’s help.” - -“What do you want of one, Josiah Allen?” sez I coldly. - -[Illustration: “I never should think of usin’ it.”] - -“Oh, nothin’, nothin’ in the world, only I thought it would be uneek to -own one. I never should think of usin’ it,” sez he, as I looked still -more stonily at him. - -“I should think not!” sez I, and my axents wuz about the temperture of -five ice suckles. - -But after we’d all turned away and wuz a-lookin’ at other relicks, I -see him furtively apply that string to it, and mark down the dimensions -on’t in his account book. - -I d’no what under the sun the man wuz a-thinkin’ on, and I don’t -believe he did. - -Wall, we wandered round through the rooms for a long time, I with -memories a-walkin’ tight to my side--what a host of ’em wuz a-follerin’ -me of them shadow shapes-- - -Sweet Ellen Douglas, and Ivanhoe, and Rebecca, Marmion, Rob Roy, Guy -Mannering, Rosamond, Nigel, the Wild Huntsman, Meg Merrilies, etc., -etc., etc. - -Oh, what a crowd of phantoms, and what different lookin’ creeters they -wuz that wuz a-walkin’ up and down that room with me, onbeknown to -Josiah and the rest! - -And what curous words they wuz a-pourin’ out into my ears--words that I -only could hear--some on ’em wuz in poetry-- - - “Charge, Chester, charge-- - On, Stanley, on”-- - -or-- - - “Oh, mother, mother, what is bliss, - Oh, mother, what is bale-- - Without my lover, what is Heaven? - And with him, what were Hell?” - -And noble, practical idees, and solemn, historical ones wuz a-soundin’ -in my ears. And figgers of noble knights and heroes and fair ladies wuz -by my side, up and down the room they walked with me and in and out. - -Some of the picters on the walls of the different rooms wuz dretful -interestin’--dretful. The one on ’em that gin my heart and mind the -deepest shock wuz the head of poor Mary, Queen of Scots, said to have -been took a few hours after her execution. The mournful, noble beauty -of that white, still face gin me feelin’s I couldn’t express, and I -didn’t try to. - -It seemed as if the home where her soul had so lately sojourned had a -dignity and peace gin it, a-flowin’ out from the seens that soul wuz -a-beholdin’ after it had cast off the tribulations and persecutions of -earth. - -It wuz a dretful interestin’ picter to me. - -Then there wuz Charles XII. of Sweden, Charles II. and Cromwell, and -lots of picters by Turner and other great artists. - -The house from top to bottom wuz full to over-flowin’ with objects of -interest. I could have stayed there for days and not seen half, but -Time and Martin wuz a-hastenin’. - -And we went from there to Dryburgh Abbey, to see the spot where Scott -wuz buried. - -We see his tomb and the place where his ancestors are buried. His -son-in-law, Mr. Lockhart, who wrote Scott’s biography, is buried here. - -In Dryburgh Abbey we see the winder where the White Maid of Avenal ust -to appear. - -But she didn’t appear to us, much as I’d loved to seen her (right there -in broad daylight, with my pardner with me). - -The Abbey is said to be hanted, mebby by them who have been imprisoned -and tortured in the dungeons onderneath. - -There are holes in the walls where the hands of prisoners were held by -heavy wedges. - -It don’t seem right to have a meetin’-house used to torture folks in, -and so I told Josiah. - -But he said that he didn’t know about it; he thought once in awhile it -would do good to jest pinch Deacon Garvin’s thumb a little, to make -him do right, or to make Deacon Bobbett come to terms, when he got too -rambunktious to business meetin’s and wanted his own way. - -“Yes,” sez I, “or to make Deacon Josiah Allen more willin’ to give to -charitable objects.” - -His liniment fell. - -“Oh, the Charitable Object has more done for him than I do, they’re -always raisin’ money for him.” - -That wuz his favorite mode of puttin’ off from givin’ to charity. - -“And,” sez I, “you see from Loyola and Cromwell down to Josiah Allen -the carnal mind wants to punish somebody else for doin’ suthin’ -different from what you want ’em to do.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I wonder if Martin hain’t a-goin’ back? I believe it’s -a-goin’ to rain, and you ort to have sunthin’ to eat, Samantha. It -worries me to have you see so much on an empty stumick.” - -“Wall,” sez I, for his thoughtfulness touched me, “some dinner would -taste good.” - -Sez he, in a low, thrillin’ voice--“Samantha,” and tears wuz almost in -his eyes as he spoke, “imagine I am in the barn door, and the smell -of roast chicken, and baked potatoes, and lemon puddin’, and cream -biscuit floats out, a-wroppin’ you all round, as you are a-standin’ in -the back door a-callin’ me in to dinner. As you stand there a-lookin’ -perfectly beautiful,” sez he. - -Agin my heart wuz touched, and sez I, “And roses under the winders, -and voyalets, and the blossomin’ trees, and the new-mown grass in -the orchard a-smellin’ sweet as the scent comes in on the warm south -breeze.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “and the good, rich coffee, and cream cheese, and honey, -and things.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “and after dinner we could set down, and set there as -long as we wanted to.” - -“I wouldn’t stir in over three days!” sez he, “not an inch from my good -old rockin’-chair. - -“But,” sez he, with a deep sithe, “them days wuz too happy to last.” - -“No,” sez I, “Providence permittin’, we will see agin the cliffs of -Jonesville; and home never seemed so sweet as it will when troubles and -toil and foreign travel is all past, and our two barks are moored once -more in our own peaceful door-yard.” - -“Never to be _on_moored!” sez he, with a almost fierce mean. And my own -longin’ heart and achin’ back and tired-out eyeballs gin a deep assent -to his remarks. - -Sweet, sweet is the fruits of foreign travel, but lofty and precipitus -are the thorny branches it hangs on, and wearin’ in the extreme is the -job of pickin’ ’em offen foreign fields and bringin’ ’em home in our -mind basket. - -And happy are they who carry ’em back fresh and hull and sound--some -folks carry ’em home in a sort of a jell or a jam--dretful mixed up and -promiscus like. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -OLD YORK AND ITS CATHEDRAL. - - -Wall, as we got back to Edinburgh it was on the first edge of the -evenin’, and I had the chance of hearin’ a real Scotch ministrel; not -one of them bagpipes of theirn, which sounds perfectly awful to me, but -which Josiah wuz dretful took with (of which more anon), but this man -had a violin, or fiddle, and sung in a sweet, high voice some of the -best ballads of the country. - -[Illustration: Josiah wuz dretful took with it.] - -I shed tears and wept to hear some on ’em. - -“Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled.” - -And “Auld Joe Nickleson’s Bonnie Nannie.” - -My heart sort o’ listened as I hearn the words. I had hearn our -Tirzah Ann sing ’em in the melancholy stillness of a June evenin’, -when through the open winder the distant sounds of the frogs and -the tree-tuds would come in from the cedar swamp, fur off, and the -moonlight throw all over her and the organ the long shadders of the -mornin’-glories. - -This is one of the verses-- - - “There is mony a joy in this world below, - But sweet are the hopes that to sing were uncanny; - But of all the joys I aer hae known, - There is nane like the love of my Bonnie Nannie; - Oh my Nannie, my sweet little Nannie, - My dear little niddlesome, noddlesome Nannie. - There naer was a flower, - In garden or bower, - Like auld Joe Nickleson’s bonnie Nannie.” - -And then he sung “John Anderson, my Jo, John,” and my mind -onconsciously reverted to my beloved pardner, as he sung words tellin’ -how he looked-- - - “When they were first acquent.” - -And then-- - - “John Anderson, my Jo, John, - We clamb the hill thegither, - And mony a canty day, John, - We’ve had wi’ ane anither: - Now we maun totter down, John, - But hand in hand we’ll go; - And sleep thegither at the foot, - John Anderson, my Jo.” - -There wuzn’t hardly a dry eye in my head as I heard it, and I looked -round to see how my Josiah wuz a-takin’ it. - -But right behind that sweet singer wuz a man with a bagpipe, and after -the melodious warbler had moved away he piped up, right under our -winder, that screechin’, awful sound; and Josiah’s attention wuz all -took up with him. - -And there wuz a distant, dreamy look to my pardner’s eyes as he gazed -onto him, of which I did not git the full meanin’ till bime-by--of -which more anon. - -After we had had our supper and had gone to our room Adrian come -a-runnin’ in and told us that a company of Scotch soldiers wuz marchin’ -through the place on their way to Sterling. - -So we quickly made our way out onto a balcony, where we could git -a good view of ’em, with their short kilt skirts, bare legs, plaid -stockin’s, and feathers. If it hadn’t been for their whiskers and -mustaches, you’d most thought they wuz wimmen. - -Sez Alice, “Oh, how picturesque they look! don’t they?” - -And I sez, “More picturesque than comfortable!” Sez I, “What clothes -them must be to wear into a battle-field, or to pick rosberrys in! What -would hender thorns and bullets from stickin’ right into them bare -legs?” - -Sez I, “They don’t use no reason; we see to-day that they ust to dress -in iron all over, when they ust to go into battle, but now they go half -naked.” - -Sez I, “Oh, the beauty of megumness! They wore too much in old times, -and now not enough, which, I’ll bet, their cold legs would testify to, -if they could speak up.” - -As I said of the bagpipes--but more anon. - -It wuz that night, jest as I wuz preparin’ my body for rest, that -Josiah’s dreamy study a-lookin’ at the bagpipes become manifest. I see -my companion foldin’ up two handkerchiefs kinder queer and a-measurin’ -’em by his arm, and anon kinder layin’ his jack-knife between ’em, and -actin’. - -And I sez, “What are you a-doin’, Josiah Allen?” - -“Why,” sez he, “I wuz a-thinkin’ of makin’ a bagpipe.” - -“Out of two handkerchiefs!” sez I mockin’ly. - -“No; I wuz jest a-layin’ out the work and gittin’ a view of its nater;” -sez he, “I wuz a-layin’ out to use two bags.” - -“Bags?” sez I. - -“Yes, meal bags,” sez he; “take them bags, and dip ’em into starch -to stiffen ’em, and then paint and varnish ’em, and there you are as -fur as the wind is concerned; the music,” sez he, “I believe could be -rigged up some way with a mouth-organ or sunthin’, or mebbe our old -accordeun; fix the bags onto both ends on’t and then draw ’em out, or -shet ’em up, with wind accordin’. - -“What a sensation it would create in Jonesville! How it would stir the -people up!” sez he. - -[Illustration: “What a sensation it would create in Jonesville!”] - -“And I might on occasions, on 4th of July and sech, wear the Tarten -costume. I could take that old plaid overskirt of yours, Samantha, it’s -dressy, you know--red and green--cut it off a little above my knees, -and my own red stockin’s would look all right. And the old rooster -would furnish very stylish feathers--I should look beautiful! And of -course,” sez he, “I should sing with it.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “your rumatic old knees would look beautiful bare naked, -and them bags and accordeun, and your singin’ would empty Jonesville as -soon as a cyclone would, or a water-spout.” And, in the name of duty, -I said further, “Your singin’ is like thumb-screws and gullotines, and -with that bagpipe added, it would cry to Heaven!” - -“There it is! there it is!” sez he! “throw cold water on it.” - -“Better that,” sez I, “than the hot water you would be deluged with if -you should try it in public. Nobody would stand it, and you’d find it -out they wouldn’t without scaldin’ you.” - -Wall, from Edinburgh Martin said that we would start for London, and so -we took the train goin’ south and sot off in the early mornin’ and in -pretty good sperits. - -We only made one stop on our way to London, and that wuz at York--the -quaint, old, walled city, in which Americans take an interest on -account of their own New York bein’ named after it. - -Our New York is some younger--about seventeen hundred years younger, -and that is a good deal of difference between a Ma and a young child. -But, then, it hain’t common to have the youngster about twenty times -bigger than its Ma. - -Wall, we went to a good tarvern and recooperated a little durin’ the -night from the fatigues of travel, and the next mornin’ bright and -early we sot out to see the sights of the city, knowin’ that our stay -there wuz to be but short. - -Martin engaged a guide, though he didn’t often want one, sayin’, as he -did, that he felt that he wuz so familar with history and all those -places that a guide was “an unnecessary outlay and a drug.” - -But bein’ in a hurry to git on to-day, we went first to see the great -wall that has stood for centuries, and seems able to stand quite a -number more of ’em. I got out of the carriage and laid my hand on the -wall, feelin’ that it would be a satisfaction to put my hand on the -stun. - -Josiah said, “That looks foolish, Samantha; you have never tried once -to put your hand on to the stun wall between our paster and Deacon -Gowdy’s.” - -“But,” sez I, “that wall has never been looked upon by Adrian and -Constantine the Great; it has never been trod by Britons, Picts, Danes, -and Saxons, each on ’em a-warrin’ for and defendin’ their native land.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “our wall is a crackin’ good one.” Josiah looked kinder -scorfin’ at me for my enthoosiasm, but I didn’t mind it any. - -And Martin, seein’ my enthoosiasm, and though he didn’t share it, not -at all, he asked me if I didn’t want to go up and walk on the great -wall--which I did. So we had the carriage stopped at one of the gates, -and he and I and Alice and Al Faizi went up and walked on the parapets. - -And I probble had as many as 70 or 80 emotions as I felt that -eight-foot wall under my feet and looked up at the solid, round -watch-towers, with narrer slits in the stun, for arrers to be shot out -of onto the enemies, and way up above ’em the little turrets for the -sentinuls to look out. - -I wonder how that sentinul felt there on cool moonlight nights twelve -or fourteen hundred years ago--I wonder what century old grief or pain -hanted his lonely heart through the night-watches--Love, Hope, mebby -they lightened his lonely watch jest as they do in 1900. - -Tenny rate, the same sun and moon looked down on him, and Love and Hope -is as old as they be--as old as the world. - -Al Faizi, I believe, had a sight of emotions, too. He stood still and -looked off with a dreamy look on his face. - -Martin thought the stun wuz good and solid, and might be utilized for -buildin’ depots and grain elevators and sech. - -Alice looked good-natered and didn’t say much. - -Josiah wuz a-makin’ a cat’s cradle with Adrian when we went back to -the buggy. And I told him I didn’t see how he could be a-playin’ with -weltin’ cord at sech a time as this, when he could see this wall. - -And he sez, “Dum it all! mebby you wouldn’t take so to stun walls -if you had broke your back, and got so many stun bruises as I have -a-layin’ ’em.” - -“Wall,” sez I soothin’ly, “do jest as you feel, Josiah. But I wouldn’t -have missed the sight for a dollar bill.” - -Yes, it rousted up sights of emotions in me. - -Another thing that endeared York to me: here in this city wuz Christmas -celebrated for the first time by King Arthur, fourteen hundred years -ago. - -[Illustration: That sentinul twelve or fourteen hundred years ago.] - -I don’t spoze he ever gin a thought at that time of what a train of -turkeys, Christmas presents, trees, plum puddin’s, bells, stockin’s, -Santa Clauses, etc., etc., etc., would foller on his wake. But it -wuz a good idee, and he wuz quite a likely creeter--buildin’ up the -meetin’-housen the Saxons had destroyed. - -Wall, we thought we would leave the Cathedral, or Minster, as they call -it for the last. And anon we see a almost endless procession of anteek -gate-ways, and housen, museums, churches, the ruined cloisters of St. -Leonard founded by Athelstane the Saxon, and the ruins of St. Mary’s -Abbey, with its old Norman arch and shattered walls. - -But from most every part of the city where we might be we could see -the Cathedral towerin’ up above us, some like a mountain of sculptured -turrets and towers. And anon we found ourselves within its walls, and -its magnificent and grand beauty almost struck us dumb with or. - -The guide said that it wuz the most gorgeous and beautiful in the -world. But I considered it safe to add a word to his description, which -made it _one_ of the most gorgeous and magnificent cathedrals in the -world--and that I spoze is true. - -It wuz about two hundred years a-buildin’, and I don’t believe there is -a carpenter in Jonesville that could have done it a day sooner. Seth -Widrick is a swift worker on housen, but I believe Seth would have been -a week or two over that time at the job. - -The guide said that it wuz 500 and 24 feet long, and 250 feet broad--24 -feet longer than St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, and 145 feet longer -than Westminster Abbey, and the most magnificent minster in the world. -The greatest beauty of the hull interior is, I spoze, the immense -east winder. Imagine a great arched winder 75 feet high and 30 feet -broad all aglow and ablaze with the most magnificent stained-glass. A -multitude of saints, angels, priests, etc., all wrought in glass, the -colors of which are so soft and glowin’, so harmonious, that they can’t -be reproduced in this day by the most cunnin’ workmen; the secret is -lost. - -This winder is known as The Five Sisters; the pattern bein’ took, it is -said, from embroideries these maiden wimmen made. - -Josiah said, when the guide mentioned it, “Good for the old maids! they -done well.” - -But as I looked upon that marvellous poem of glowin’ color, I felt -beyend words, but I could still think. And I thought proudly of the -exquisite work my sect had wrought, and I wuz glad for the moment -that I too wuz a woman; and though seven hundred years lay between -them noble sisters and myself, yet I felt that our hearts, our souls, -touched each other in that pleasant day of 1895. - -Wall, Passin’ Time and Josiah tore me away from the contemplation of -that glory, that wonder, that delight--unequalled, I believe, in the -hull world. - -And at Martin’s request, for he said that he should be asked about it -probble, and would wish to be prepared with answers, we went out on a -little stun platform or bridge outside, from which we had a view of the -hull glowin’ interior--a vista of leafy gothic arches, and sculptered -columns, more’n five hundred feet in length, and at the end the great -west winder, with the figgers of the eight earliest Archbishops of -York, and to keep ’em company, eight saints and other figgers. - -All seemin’ly a-standin’ in the glowin’ light took from the most -gorgeous western sunset. They wuz put up about five hundred years ago, -and I can’t begin to describe the beauty and richness of colorin’, and -design, nor Josiah can’t. - -There wuz lots of other winders, too, that would be remarkable anywhere -else. And among ’em wuz one over the entrance that they called the -Marygold winder, circles of small arches in the form of a wheel, the -color of which makes it look some like that flower. - -Though, as Josiah well said--“Nobody ever hearn before of a marygool -thirty feet acrost.” - -In the vestries we see some historical relicks. One of the oldest is -the great Saxon Drinkin’ Horn, by which the church holds valuable -estate near York. - -The old chieftain, Ulphus, knelt at the altar and drinked out of the -horn, and by this act gave to the church all his land, housen, etc., -etc., givin’ to the fathers this horn as a title-deed. - -Josiah wuz dretful took up with it, and vowed that he would save the -horns from the next beef creeter he killed and make out his next deed -with it. - -“So strong and safe,” sez he; “no ‘whereasis’ and ‘to wits’ and -‘namelys,’ and runnin’ up to a stake, and back agin, to wit.” - -Sez he, “It would be a boon to git rid of all that nonsense. That -would use up one horn, and then I might make my will with the other. -I could will you all my property with it, Samantha, and then we could -both drink root-beer, or sunthin’, and you could jest keep the horn, -and there would be no way to break the will. 2d. Wives have lots of -trouble, but how could anybody break it, Samantha, when you had the -horn locked up in the tin chest?” - -It wuz thoughtful in him, and showed a deep kindness to me, but I felt -dubersome about it. - -Then there wuz another drinkin’ cup presented by Archbishop Scrope. But -it wuz bigger than I love to see--I am afraid that Mr. Scrope drinked -too much. But as he had his head cut off in 1405, I couldn’t labor with -him about it. - -Then there wuz the chair in which the Saxon kings wuz crowned. And a -old Bible presented by King Charles II., and one gin by Charles 1st. A -old communion plate 500 years old and oak chests, etc., etc., etc. - -[Illustration: “With the ends of the fingers a-hangin’ down.”] - -When we looked at the communion plate Josiah nudged me, and sez he, -“Don’t that make you think of she that wuz Sally Ann Plenty?” Sez he, -“You know she bought a old communion service once because she could git -it for a little or nothin’.” Sez he, “That wuz the same day that she -bought a crosscut saw, and a box of gloves 4 sizes too big for her, -and wore ’em with the ends of the fingers a-hangin’ down, jest as if -they wuz onjointed.” - -Sez I, “Hush! This is no place to bring up sech worldly and foolish -eppisodes.” - -Wall, Martin clim up into the Lantern Tower, two hundred and thirteen -feet high, for he said that he would wish to say that he had been there. - -But Al Faizi wuz the most took up with lookin’ at the monuments in -the Cathedral. They wuz beautiful in the extreme, and some on ’em wuz -saints, some on ’em Archbishops, but the most on ’em wuz riz up to men -who had made themselves famous by killin’ lots and lots of folks--some -in England, some in Russia, and in India, and in Burmah, etc., etc., -etc. - -As I stood in front of them bloody records, and meditated that a common -murderer, who had only killed one or two men, couldn’t never git a -statute, but it wuz those that killed hundreds and thousands who had -’em built through foreign lands, and my own native country--as I wuz -a-meditatin’ on this and a-considerin’ on how the more a man killed the -higher his monument wuz riz up, and the nigher he wuz buried to saints, -I see Al Faizi take out that little book with the cross on’t and -write down quite a lot--what it wuz I d’no, but I presoom it wuz good -writin’. His idees are congenial to mine, very. - -And then another place where I see Al Faizi a-writin’ down quite a lot -in that book of hisen wuz at Clifford’s Tower, in the castle enclosure, -where two hundred Jews were masicreed in 1490. From what the guide -said, I made out as follows: When the Crusaders got back from fightin’ -the Infidels they wuz kinder mad to see that the Jews wuz better off -than they wuz--had better clothes, more money, etc.--so they begun to -kill ’em off. - -There wuz so many fightin’ Christians the Jews couldn’t defend -themselves, so they come to the castle with their wives and children. -And all the soldiers in York come to help the Crusaders kill the Jews. -And when the poor Jews found that they couldn’t stand it any longer, -they did jest as the Rabbi told ’em. - -They killed the wives and children that wuz left, to keep ’em from -fallin’ into the hands of their persecutors, and sot fire to the -castle, and then killed themselves, so’s they shouldn’t burn to death. - -This massicre of these onoffending Jews by Christians wuz one of the -most barbarous acts that ever took place on earth. Lots of folks now -have their souls massicreed in the same way--out of envy and jealousy. - -I d’no what Al Faizi writ in his book as he looked at this place where -this dretful deed wuz done in the name of Religion. But his face wuz -a sight to see as he writ--solemn and awful; not mad, but sunthin’ -of the expression of the Avengin’ Angel, or as I mistrust he would -look--dretful sorry, but sot, awful sot. - -Wall, we went back to the tarvern and got a good dinner, and I laid -down for a nap--I wuz clean used up. - -When I waked up it wuz sunset, and Josiah sot by the little casement -with the panes of glass about four inches big, a-readin’. - -And I asked him if Martin laid out to go to London in the mornin’, and -he said that he guessed he did. “But,” sez he with a tone of regret-- - -“I did want to visit Scarborough; there’s no need hurryin’ so to -London,” sez he. - -“Who and what is Scarborough?” sez I in a weary axent as I got up and -wadded up my back hair. - -“Why, it is the fashionable waterin’-place of England,” sez he; “it -is only a little more than forty milds away,” sez he; “we could go -jest as well as not, and it would be so genteel. I would,” sez he, -a-smoothin’ out the folds of his dressin’-gown, and bringin’ the -tossels forred in a more sightly place--“I would love to mingle in -fashionable circles once more, Samantha.” - -I looked down at his old bald head in silent disaprobation. He wuz too -old to hanker after fashion and display, and too bald, and I knew it. - -But I knew that I could not make him over, after he had been made -so long--no, I should have to bear up the best I could under his -shortcomin’s. - -But I sez mekanically, and to git his idees off--“I would kinder love -to visit Whitby, Josiah; that hain’t much further away, and that is -where all the most beautiful jet is made. I thought like as not that -you would want to buy me a handkerchief pin, Josiah Allen.” - -He looked injured, and sez he, “Where is the black pin you mourned in -for Father Smith?” His tone wuz sour and snappish in the extreme. - -Sez I, “That pin wuz broke over twenty years ago.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I can glue it together with Ury’s help, or we could -tie it up, so’s it would be jest as good as a new one. It don’t come to -any strain on your collar,” sez he anxiously. - -“No, Josiah; but I shouldn’t like to wear a pin that you and Ury had -contoggled up. But let it pass,” sez I; “I can do without it, if my -companion don’t think enough of me right here in the headquarters of -black breastpins and beads to buy me anything.” - -My tone touched him. He sez--“I’d look round and see about it, but I -hain’t no time, for we’ve got to be a-pushin’ right on to London; if we -ever lay out to git home agin we’ve got to be on the move.” - -I didn’t say nothin’ only what my liniment spoke, and anon he sez-- - -“If worst come to worst, Ury and I could make you a crackin’ good -one out of coal. All of this jet in Whitby is made out of coal. And -how much less it would cost--we could make you a hull set in one -evenin’--earrings and all.” - -I gin him one look, and that wuz all the argument that I would dane to -waste on the subject. - -Alice kinder wanted to go to Robin Hood Bay, which wuz not far from -Scarborough. She said that she would love to see the place where the -hero of Sherwood Forest had lived once--the bold outlaw who took from -the rich with one hand and gave to the poor with the other. - -But her Pa laughed at her for believin’ that there ever wuz sech a man, -or if there wuz, he wuz nothin’ but a common robber, who deserved -hangin’. - -[Illustration: Robin Hood.] - -I believe Martin would favor drivin’ Santa Claus out of the country and -killin’ his reindeers. His imagination hain’t, I really believe, not -much bigger than a pea--not a marrowfat one, but a common field pea. - -So Martin decided at first that we would go direct to London, but -finally he concluded to go a little out of our way to visit the estate -of the Duke of Devonshire--the grandest home in England. And he wanted -to stop a little while at Sheffield on business--property matters, I -spoze, or mebby he wanted to buy a jack-knife--I d’no what his business -wuz. - -I knew he could git a good jack-knife here, for they’ve been makin’ -knives and sech right here for five or six hundred years. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -EDENSOR AND THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE. - - -So anon we found ourselves in the smoky, grimy, dirty city. A heavy -black cloud seemed to hang overhead, seemin’ to shade the hull spot; -but then I didn’t want to lay it up agin ’em, for I knew we had our -own cities, that had to set down under a cloud of smoke jest as they -did--Pittsburg, and others, etcetery. - -I can’t say that I took sech a sight of comfort here in Sheffield, but -Josiah and Martin seemed to enjoy themselves a-goin’ round and seein’ -all they could. - -Martin said it wuz a sight to see how perfectly each workman did his -work, and how faithful they wuz to their employers; he said he wished -he had sech men to work for him. - -And it wuz curous to think on. As nigh as I could make out, generations -of one family would work on and on, a-workin’ at one part of a -jack-knife, for instance, a-keepin’ right on--a grandpa, and his son, -and his son’s son, and etcetery--all contented and industrious and -awful handy, as they would naterally be, a-workin’ on at one thing -year after year, year after year; mebby a-makin’ a rivet to put into a -handle of a knife. - -It stands to reason that they would learn to do it well after workin’ -at the same thing over and over for hundreds of years. And these -workmen seemed to be sot on doin’ jest the best work that they could, -and stay right on in the same place. - -“And,” sez Josiah, “I wonder if Ury’s boy and grandson and -great-grandson will be willin’ to keep right on workin’ for me?” - -Sez I, “Do you expect to outlive Ury’s grandson, Josiah Allen?” - -Sez he, “They did in Bible times.” Sez he, “I wouldn’t be nigh so old -then as Methusler,” and he went on--“I use my help as good agin as they -do here. If I should put Ury to work in sech a dark, dirty, onhandy -place as these workmen have, he’d kick in a minute and leave me; but -here they work, generations of ’em, all in one place.” - -[Illustration: “It don’t pay to tussel with ’em.”] - -Sez I feelin’ly, “I wish I could git sech a generation of hired girls; -but no sooner duz an American housekeeper git a hired girl broke in, so -she can bile a potato decent, or make a batch of bread, than off she -trapes somewhere else to better herself. It don’t pay to tussel with -’em,” sez I. - -“Wall,” sez Josiah, “you ort to go into some of these factories; it is -a sight to see how perfect everything is done. One part of a knife, for -instance, done in one house, and then another house doin’ another part, -and then another another, and every part done jest as well as it can -possibly be.” - -And then Josiah went on about that wonderful knife they make here, with -a new blade added for every year. - -And bein’ we wuz alone, and I hadn’t nothin’ else on my mind, I -moralized some, and sez I-- - -“Old Fate is makin’ her knife pretty stiddy, and seems to add a new -blade every year for us to cut our feelin’s on, and jab ourselves with.” - -And sez I, “They don’t hurt any the less because we dig the metal -ourselves and shape the sharp blades with our ignorant hands, not -knowin’ what we’re a-workin’ on, and some on ’em,” sez I, “handed down -from foolish, ignorant workmen who have gone before--queer!” sez I, -“passin’ queer!” - -“Yes,” sez Josiah, “it wuz quite a sight; Martin and I enjoyed it. - -“But the drinkin’ here in Sheffield,” sez Josiah, “is sunthin’ dretful -to witness.” Sez he, “I thought we had drinkin’ habits in America, but -I never see nothin’, nor I don’t believe anybody else did, to compare -with some of the places we visited to-day. Why,” sez he, “it would do a -W. C. T. U. good to jest look at ’em.” - -“Good?” sez I sternly. - -“Wall, yes,” sez he; “it would set ’em to kinder soarin’ and wavin’ -them banners of theirn and talkin’--you know jest how they love to -talk,” sez he. - -Sez I, “You better stop right where you are.” Sez I, “Do you realize -that you are talkin’ about your pardner?” - -“Wall, yes,” sez he; “that’s what I wuz kinder figgerin’ on--Heaven -knows you love to talk, you can’t dispute that.” - -I wouldn’t dane to argy with him. - -But, indeed, it wuz a sight to walk through some of the low, dingy, -filthy streets, with saloons on every side flauntin’ their brazen -signs, and men and wimmen with bloated, sodden faces, that strong drink -had almost changed into the faces of animals. - -The same sin--the same useless, needless sin, parent of _all_ other -vices--jest as bad on this side of the Atlantic as in Jonesville and -America, and worse. - -I left it there a-performin’ and cuttin’ up, and I found it here actin’ -jest the same. You’d think after crossin’ the Atlantic it would git -sobered up a little--seein’ so much water and everything. - -But it hadn’t. It wuz jest the same reelin’, disgraceful, foolish, -leerin’, bloated Shame-- - -Jest as bad in Sheffield as it wuz in Jonesville and Chicago, and worse. - -It wuz enough to melt a stun with pity, and make hard eyes weep -with sorrer and flash with a righteous indignation, at the Nations -that don’t devise some means of wipin’ out this gigantic cause of -wickedness, woe, and want. - -They can connect worlds together with chains of lightnin’, they can -make roads through the earth and on top of it, and in all ways; then -why can’t they keep a man from drinkin’ a tumbler full of whiskey? They -could if they wanted to, and all put in together. - -Wall, wuzn’t it a change to leave this smoky, grimy city and find -ourselves in the open, beautiful English country, and in the most -beautiful part of it, too? - -We went by railroad to Matlock Bath, and from there went in a carriage -to the little village of Edensor, the loveliest little village I ever -sot eyes on. Its housen are all built in some quaint, beautiful style -of architecture, and it looks like a picter, and a great deal handsomer -than lots of picters I’ve seen--chromos and sech. - -This village belongs to the Duke of Devonshire, and is on his estate, -which is the finest in England, and I guess on this hull earth. - -And I d’no whether they’ve got any on any other planet that goes ahead -on’t. Mebby Jupiter has, but I don’t really believe it. - -Why, jest its pleasure park--the door-yard, as you may say--has two -thousand acres in it. - -This estate, known as Chatsworth, is twelve milds from Edensor, and -nobody could describe the beauty of the landscape all about us as we -passed onwards. - -As we went acrost a corner of this immense door-yard, through the most -beautiful pieces of woodland, and the verdant slopes covered with -velvety sward, great, beautiful pheasants and herds of deer would -look round at us and then walk off, not a mite afraid, fearless as -they will be if they’re used well. Anon we would ketch a glimpse of -some enchantin’ vista, with herds of contented cattle, makin’ picters -of themselves aginst the background of green grass and noble trees -centuries old. - -From a little hill top we could see twelve milds in every direction, -and not a foot of land that this man didn’t own. - -Twelve milds! the idee! It seems more’n he ort to have on his mind. - -Anon we reached a beautiful stun bridge, designed by Michael Angelo, -and crossin’ the little river, went up to the great iron and gilt -entrance gates. - -[Illustration: Martin sent his card in.] - -Martin sent his card in to somebody that takes care of the premises, -I guess (and how he dast to ask any favors of this gorgeous-dressed -creeter in knee-breeches, I d’no, but he did, bold as brass), and word -come back that we could look over the place, and one of the hired men -wuz sent to go with us and show us round. It wuz well he come; we -should have got lost, sure as the world. But lost in sech a place--sech -a place! Why, I’d read the Arabian Nights quite a good deal, and a -considerable number of fairy stories about enchanted castles, and sech. -But never did I ever hear, in a book, or out on’t, of sech magnificence -as I see here. - -First we went through a great courtyard into the splendid entrance -hall, seventy feet long if it wuz a inch; the wall and ceilin’s -ornamented with frescoes, all representin’ the life and death of Cæsar. -We went up a majestic staircase, with all the richly ornamented columns -and statutes it needed for its comfort, and more, too, it seemed, -though they wuz beautiful beyend tellin’; and here we went into the -State Apartments of the house. - -I spoze they are called State Apartments because in every room there’s -enough of beauty and grandeur to supply a hull State, if it wuz -scattered even, and I don’t mean Rhode Island either, but New York and -Maine and sech sizable ones. - -Why, every one of these lofty ceilin’s is painted with picters -handsome enough for the very handsomest handkerchief pin, if they -wuz the right size. The hired man told us what some of the picters -represented--Aurora (and, oh, how beautiful Aurora wuz!), and one wuz -the “Judgment of Paris.” - -I hadn’t no idee before that Paris jedgment wuz so perfectly beautiful; -I spozed it wuz kinder triflin’. They seemed, as fur as I could make -out, to be a-samplin’ apples--lovely creeters they wuz that wuz -standin’ round. - -And then there wuz “Phaeton in the Chariot of the Sun.” - -It didn’t look a mite like our phaeton--fur more magnificent. - -Room after room opened into each other, all different as stars differ -from each other, but every one full of glory; all full of the treasures -of every land--Persia, Egypt, and every other. - -The hired man drawed our attention to the presents of kings and -princes, and all the rare objects of art and virtue. - -But I sez, “As fur as virtues is concerned, I d’no as kings would be -any more apt to git hold of ’em than common men, or so apt, but,” sez -I, “call ’em perfectly beautiful, and I agree with you.” - -In them magnificent and immense rooms are picters by Landseer, Holbein, -Salvator Rosa, Raphael, Rubens, Claude Lorraine, Correggio, Hogarth, -Titian, Michael Angelo, etc. A great many with the autographs of the -painters--priceless, absolutely beyend price, are these works of art. - -And if I should talk a week, I couldn’t describe all the beautiful -objects we see there, so valuable that one on ’em would make a man rich. - -In one room wuz a clock of gold and malachite--a present from the -Emperor Nicholas, worth a thousand guineas, and a broad, shinin’ table -of one clear sheet of transclucent spar, and a great table of clear -malachite. I’d be glad to git enough of it for an earring for Tirzah -Ann. - -In one room we see a picter by Holbein of Henry VIII., and a rosary -belongin’ to him. I wondered as I looked on’t what that poor, misguided -creeter ust to pray about as he handled them beads. He couldn’t want -any more wives than he had, it seemed to me. Mebby he wuz a-wishin’ -some of the time that he wuz back with Katharine, that noble creeter -who said-- - - “Weep, thou, for me in France, I for thee here; - Go count thy way with sighs, I mine with groans.” - -And when they had that lawsuit of theirn (he gittin’ after another -woman, and wantin’ to git rid of her), after he’d bought off the jedge, -Katharine sez to Henry--liftin’ her right arm up towards Heaven-- - -“_There_ sits a Jedge no king can corrupt.” - -Noble, misused creeter! I’ll bet if them beads could have told what -wuz said over ’em, they would have said that Henry thought of her, his -lawful wife, when his memory wuz sick of recallin’ Anne Boleyn, Anne of -Cleves, etc., etc., etc., etc., etc. But to resoom. - -We see the bed that George II. died in. The chairs and footstools -used by George III. and his queen. And the two chairs used by William -IV. and Queen Adelaide at their coronation. And then we see the most -beautiful tapestry that ever wuz made, and busts and statutes. Richly -colored, priceless old china filled the splendid cabinets inlaid with -finest mosaic work--in fact, the hull length of these rooms, openin’ -into each other so that you could see their hull length of 550 feet, -wuz full of the most costly and beautiful objects man ever made. - -The oak floor wuz polished, and shone like a mirror. - -The library wuz one hundred feet long of itself, with columns risin’ -from floor to ceilin’ and a gallery runnin’ round it, and two more -openin’ out of it, with alcoves of Spanish mahogany, these full of -picters by Landseer and others, and medallions, etc., etc., etc., and -full of the choicest literature of every land. - -And then there wuz a private chapel that went ahead of any -meetin’-house I ever see or ever expect to, all marble and spar and -wonderful wood-carvin’s, and picters from the old masters filled it -full of beauty and glory. Faith and Hope wuz there all carved out -beautiful, so’s you could see ’em right before you, as well as feel ’em -in your heart. - -In the sculpter gallery is the most wonderful treasures, busts and -statutes and mosaics, relicks from every land and age, and beautiful -figgers, almost alive, by Canova, Powers, Thorwaldsen, Gibson, -Bartolini, etc., etc. Some wuz presented by emperors and kings, -and some on ’em bought by the Duke and his folks. The hull room, -one hundred feet long, is full of the rarest treasures that can be -collected; it made my brain fairly reel beneath my best bunnet to see -the wealth of glory and beauty, and Al Faizi turned away from it a -spell and looked thoughtfully out of the winder. - -But I see that here, too, wuz a picter that no artist could reproduce, -and so it wuz in every winder that you could look out of. A green, -velvety lawn a hundred feet wide and over five hundred long, bordered -by most beautiful colored flowers, and out of another winder you -could see the velvety slopes, with walks and river and bridge, and -way off the noble trees and terraces, one risin’ above another, all -full of beautiful plants and shrubs. And in the centre from the top -down, hundreds of feet, wuz a great flight of stun steps, thirty feet -wide, down which flows and sparkles a sheet of water, reflectin’ in -its mirror-like surface all the white statutes on its margin, till it -reaches the edge of the broad gravel walk, when it disapears right -down into the earth and flows off in some curous, underground way to -the river. - -Josiah wuz all rousted up when he see this, and, as is the way of my -dear, ardent-souled companion, he tore a page out of his account-book, -and begun to make calculations on’t. - -And I sez with a sithe--“What are you a-figgerin’ on now, Josiah Allen?” - -“Oh! I’m plottin’ out a lovely addition to the beauty of our home, -Samantha--I’m a-plannin’ sunthin’ so uneek and fascinatin’ that it will -make the Jonesvillians open their eyes in astonishment and or.” - -“What is it?” sez I. - -“I’m a-plannin’ on how we can have a waterfall on our back doorsteps.” -Sez he, “I hain’t seen anything so perfectly beautiful and strikin’ as -this sence I come to the Old Country, and we can have one jest as well -as not. You know our back steps are quite high, and how beautiful they -would look with the sparklin’ water flowin’ down ’em--how refreshin’ -it would be in hot weather to have a waterfall right on your own -doorsteps, and set in the open back door, right on its banks, as it -were, and hear the murmur of the water, and see it a-glidin’ down -towards the smoke-house. We might have it dissapear,” sez he, “between -the smoke-house and the ash-barrel.” - -[Illustration: Josiah’s home-made waterfall.] - -“Where would you git your water?” sez I coldly. - -“Wall,” sez he, a-holdin’ up the paper with quite a lot of figgers and -marks on it, “I figgered it out that we might have a pipe go from the -kitchen pump, cut a little hole in the thrasholt to let it go in, and -there you would be.” - -“And did you lay out,” sez I in frigid axents, “to have me stan’ there -a-pumpin’ all day to supply your waterfall?” - -His mean begun to fall a little--it had been triumphant--and he sez -kinder meachin’--“You have to throw out your dish-water anyway, and you -might’s well throw it on the steps as to throw it in the dreen.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “a fountain a-runnin’ dish-water would be a beautiful -spectacle, wouldn’t it, Josiah Allen? - -“I guess it would astonish the eyes of the Jonesvillians, and their -noses, too!” - -“I didn’t mean that!” he hollered quite loud. - -“What did you mean, then?” sez I. - -He agin murmured sunthin’ about the pump, the cistern, and the old mair. - -And I sez, “That poor old mair agin!” Sez I, “If I hadn’t broke it up, -that mair wouldn’t live three days after we got home, with all you’d -put on her, a-apein’ foreign idees, Josiah.” - -“I hain’t been a-apein’, and you know it!” - -But I went right on--“Even if you could make it work, how could we git -into the house if the doorstep wuz turned into a waterfall?” - -“Wall,” sez he, a-lookin’ up kinder cross, “I’ve hearn lots of times of -havin’ the bottom sash of a winder hung on hinges, and goin’ in and out -by ’em.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “after you’d clumb up through the buttery winder onct -or twict with a pail of milk in both hands, I guess you’d git sick of -doorstep waterfalls!” - -He see by the light of my calm, practical reasonin’ that his idee -wuz visionary and couldn’t be carried out, but he wouldn’t own up to -it--not he. - -He jest jammed the paper down into his vest pocket, and snapped me up -real sharp the next words I said to him. - -He acted awful growety; but I didn’t care, I knew I wuz in the right -on’t. - -Wall, after goin’ through the brightest and most lovely garden you can -imagine, you come into a place with huge rocks and cliffs, romantic -shrubbery, massive ledges, and a waterfall fallin’ into a deep, dark -basin, caverns, etc., and as you go round a corner, you come face to -face with a huge rock that you think must have fell there. You think -you will have to go back; but no! Do you think you will have to turn -back for anything in this enchanted place? The hired man touches the -rock, and it turns right away and lets you pass, and then you see that -not only is the enchantin’ beauty of the place made, but the rough -wildness of this spot. - -One of the curous things in this place wuz a tree with kinder -queer-lookin’ branches, and the hired man touched it somewhere, and -water flowed out of every leaf and twig, turnin’ it into a fountain. - -The conservatory is from one end to the other two hundred and -seventy-six feet long, and broad enough to drive through it with a -carriage and four horses, so you can imagine the wealth of beauty in -it--orange-trees full of their glossy fruit, lemon-trees, feathery -palm-trees fifty feet high, bamboos, cactuses, bananas, queer, broad, -velvety leaves of every shape and color, and all of the flowers that -ever wuz hearn on, and never wuz hearn on, it seems to me. - -There are thirty other greenhousen, all runnin’ over with beauty of -various kinds. Graperies seven hundred feet long, with the rich white -and purple clusters hangin’ down in every direction. Peach housen, -strawberry housen, apricot, mushroom, vegetable housen, in which every -kind of vegetable is raised. Why, the kitchen-garden and greenhousen -covers twenty acres. But there is no use of talkin’ any more--like -Niagara, and the World’s Fair, you have got to see it to understand its -vastness and its perfect beauty. - -I wuz glad I’d seen it. I believe that even Martin wuz kinder took down -off from the Mount of Self Esteem he always sets on, as he wandered -through it. - -He’d always prided himself quite a good deal of his home in the city, -and it is palatial and grand. But what comparison would it bear to -this? Not even-- - - “Like moonshine unto sunshine, - Or like water unto wine.” - -No; it wuz like a small kerosene lamp unto sunshine. And he felt it, -Martin did. He didn’t patronize anybody for as much as three quarters -of an hour after he left there. He give the hired man a good-sized -piece of money, for I see him. It wuz so big that the man turned fairly -pale, and called Martin “Your Highness.” He sez-- - -“When will Your Highness return again?” - -So we come off with flyin’ colors, after all. - -Wall, seein’ that we wuz so near, Martin thought we’d ride over to -Haddon Hall, only a few milds away. This is one of the fine old -buildin’s of the Middle Ages. It stands on a rocky eminence above the -River Wye; over the great arched entrance is the arms of the Vernon -family, who occupied it for three hundred and fifty years. - -[Illustration: Her common-sense shoe.] - -As we passed in through a little door, cut in one of the broad sides -of the gates, we see, on the rough stun thrasholt, the impression of a -human foot, wore there by the innumerable feet of warriors, pilgrims, -ladies, troubadors, children, kings, and queens, for all I know. -Anyhow, she who wuz once Smith put her own common-sense shoe right into -the worn footprint, and stood there, kinder on one foot, and had more’n -eighty-seven emotions as she did so, and I d’no but eighty-nine or -ninety. - -I had a sight, anyway, as we went into the stun courtyard, ornamented -with stun carvin’, into the interior. - -Josiah didn’t take to it at all. - -But, then, as I told him, what could you expect of a house where the -folks had been away for several hundred years--any place would look -kinder dreary. - -But he sez, “Dum it all! when it wuz new, who’d like to have sech rough -stun floors? And look at that fireplace in the kitchen, big enough to -roast a hull ox. How could a man cut wood enough to keep that fire -a-goin’?” - -Sez I, “The man of the house didn’t have to do it at all, his vassals -did it, Josiah.” - -“Wall, he had to tend to it, and I’d ruther do the work any time than -to keep a vassal a-goin’, that is, any vassal that I ever hired by the -month, or day.” - -But in the great banquettin’ hall, with its oak rafters and long table, -where they feasted, at one end a little higher--for the quality, I -spoze--he ketched sight of the minstrels’ gallery at one end. And sez -he, his face lightin’ up, “The man of the house could git up there and -sing while the rest wuz eatin’, if he wanted to, and nothin’ said about -it.” - -“Yes,” sez I pintedly, “if he _could_ sing; but,” sez I, wantin’ to git -his mind offen this unpleasant theme, sez I-- - -“I’d love dearly to see this table set out as it ust to be, and the -noble and beautiful a-settin’ round it, with boars’ heads on the table, -and great sides of beef, and gilded peacocks.” - -“And jugs of ale and wine,” sez Josiah. - -But I waved off that idee, but couldn’t wave it fur, for the beer -cellars wuz a sight to behold. They must have been drunk a good deal of -the time, jedgin’ from the accommodations for drinkin’. - -Up the massive stun stairway we went into another big room, used as a -dinin’-room by the later occupants of the Hall. - -Here over the fireplace are the royal arms, and under them, in old -English letters, the motto-- - -“Drede God, and honor the king.” - -Goin’ up six heavey, oak, semicircular steps, we go into the ball-room, -over a hundred feet long, with great bay-winders, out of which you -see picters more beautiful than any that could be painted by the hand -of man--perfect landscape of quiet country, silvery stream, rustic -bridges, grand old parks, and the spire of the church from the distant -village pintin’ up to the blue sky. - -Then through other rooms with Gobelin tapestry on the walls, still -holdin’ skripteral stories in its ancient folds. - -Then through other rooms that are modern compared with the others, and -have been used in the present century. Here, agin, in one of ’em we see -Gobelin tapestry drapin’ the State bed. - -Follerin’ the guide through a anty-room we come out into the garden on -Dorothy Vernon’s Walk. - -Under the tapestry is concealed doors and passages, as the guide -showed us by pushin’ the folds aside, through which many a man or -woman, drove by Fear or Love, or some other creeter, had rushed for -refuge or secret meetin’. - -The garden of Haddon Hall is picturesque and beautiful in the extreme. - -Dorothy’s Walk, shaded by noble old trees, leads to the massive flights -of marble steps, down which she hurried with beatin’ heart and flyin’ -steps to meet her lover, Sir John Manners, while her friends were -merry-makin’ in another part of the Hall, and never dreamed of her -flight. - -Haddon Hall by this means passed into the family of Rutland, who lived -here till the first of this century. The Duke of Rutland keeps the -place in its ancient form, much to the delight of those who love the -old ways. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -JOSIAH HAS AN ADVENTURE. - - -Wall, Martin, who sometimes changes his mind, but don’t think he duz, -always a-sayin’ that it shows weak-mindedness and is a trait belongin’ -to wimmen (which I never feel like disputin’, knowin’ that my sect has -in time past been known to be whifflin’; but so have men, too)--so -it didn’t surprise me much when he said that instead of proceedin’ -directly to the Lake District from here he thought we would go first to -the home of Shakespeare. Sez he: - -“I may be called to London any minute on business, and I feel that it -will be expected of me to visit Shakespeare’s birthplace anyway.” - -Sez Martin, with a thumb in both vest pockets, and a benine, -patronizin’ look on his liniment-- - -“Shakespeare wrote a number of very creditable productions, and though -I never had the time to spare from more important things to peruse his -works--poems, I believe, mostly--yet I always love to encourage talent. -I think it is becoming for solid men, for progressive, practical men, -to encourage writers to a certain extent; and Shakespeare, as I am -aware, has been very much talked of. I would be sorry to miss the -chance of saying to those who inquire of me that I had been there, so I -believe we will proceed there at once.” - -“Wall,” I sez, “I shall be glad enough to go;” and Al Faizi looked -tickled, too. He had read him, he said, in his own country. - -And sez he to me, with his dark eyes all lit up, “To read Shakespeare -is like looking into clear water and seeing your own face reflected in -it, and earth, and mountain top, and over all the Heavens. And it is -more than that,” sez he, “it is looking into the human mind and reading -all its secrets--all the wonder and mystery of the soul; it is like -looking at life, and death, and eternity.” - -He wuz dretful riz up in his mind a-talkin’ about it, and he quoted -Shakespeare quite often on our way to Stratford, and always in the -right place, and he is generally so still, that I see, indeed, how he -felt about him. Alice talked, too, quite a good deal about Shakespeare. -And Al Faizi listened. Yes, he listened to Alice--poor creeter! And -everybody blind as a bat but jest me. - -Wall, we got there anon or a little before, and put up to the Red Horse -Inn, a quaint, old-fashioned tarvern, but where we had everything for -our comfort, and wuz waited on by as pretty a red-cheeked girl as I -want to see. - -[Illustration: A quaint, old-fashioned tarvern.] - -A sight of emotions wuz rousted up in me as I sot in that tarvern, or -walked through its old-fashioned, low-ceiled rooms and meditated on who -had been under its ruff. - -When rare Ben Jonson, and Drayton, and Garrick, and all of -Shakespeare’s friends come down from London to visit him, of course -they stopped here, and of course Shakespeare himself often and often -come here--mebby too often for Miss Shakespeare’s feelin’s. - -Much as I honor Shakespeare, I have to admit that he did stimulate -a little too much--but, then, who hain’t got their failin’s? Why, -Solomon, the very wisest man, had more wives than he ort to had. - -Seein’, I spoze, that we wuz Americans, our supper that first night -wuz served in Washington Irving’s room, as they call the room that he -occupied, our own genial wit and poet. Mebby his words didn’t come in -rhyme, but they had the soul of poetry, and quaint, sly wit, and good -sense and good manners and everything. - -I always sot store by Washington Irving. (I had got acquainted with him -through Thomas J.) - -Alice quoted a lot from Irving, and a lot from Shakespeare, while we -wuz to the table, and I felt their presence in my heart. - -Wall, I wuz so kinder beat out that night, that, as poets say, “I -sought my couch” to once, a good-lookin’ oak bedstead, with a teester -cloth overhead, and some curtains hangin’ down on each side. - -The weariness I had gone through with that day, mixed in with the -powders Mr. Morpheus keeps by him, brung on a sleep almost imegiately -and to once. And I wuz sweetly a-dreamin’ of seein’ the Jonesville -steeple a-pintin’ up through a ile paintin’ of cows and calves. Philury -wuz a-peacefully milkin’ one of the cows, while Ury, a-settin’ on the -steeple with a pail of skim milk, wuz a-tryin’ to bagon one of the -calves to him, but a Madonna with a long beard poked at the calf with a -sceptre and made it kick. - -It wuz a sweet, tender dream of home, tinged slightly with the -surroundin’s we had been surrounded by on our tower. - -But anon as the Madonna and Philury changed into two gorgeous altar -pieces, and Ury leaned near the calf and fed it out of a stained-glass -winder-- - -Even at that very minute a sharp scream cut through the silence of -night, like the ragged thrust of a bread knife through a loaf of light -bread. - -Once, twice, three times, did that cry ring out, and then I heard -the sounds of rapid footsteps, and anon the door busted open, and my -pardner rushed in and slammed it shet and clicked the bolt to. - -And then he sunk down in his chair and almost buried his face in his -hands. - -I riz up on my piller, and sez I in agitated axents-- - -“What is the matter, Josiah?” - -Sez he from out from under his hand, “I’ve done it now!” - -“Done what?” sez I. - -“Don’t ask me!” sez he, a-shudderin’ visibly; “it is nothin’ you want -to know.” - -But his words made me more and more determined to know the worst, as -wuz nateral they should. And finally he said in a surly, cross way-- - -“Wall, if you must know, I’ve been into a woman’s room.” - -“Been into a woman’s room!” sez I coldly; “what did you want in a -woman’s room?” - -“I didn’t want nothin’--Heaven knows I didn’t, only to git out agin.” - -“Who wuz it?” sez I in stern axents. - -“I d’no--she wuz a perfect stranger to me,” sez he, with his face still -hid in his hand. - -“Wuz she good-lookin’?” sez I in the same stern tones. I hain’t a mite -jealous, as is well known, but I felt that I wanted to know the worst. - -“Don’t ask me,” sez he; and he continued fiercely, “What business has a -woman to be up a-ondressin’ herself at this time of night? Why wuzn’t -she to bed and covered up?” - -Sez he, a-growin’ more and more excited and fierce actin’--“I’m a-goin’ -back and tell that woman that it is a shame and a disgrace to be up and -ondressed at this time of night. Why wuzn’t her door locked, if she had -to ondress?” - -“What business wuz it of yours?” sez I. “Do you spoze she expected you -to be a-prowlin’ round her room and a-prancin’ in, onbeknown to her?” - -“Gracious Peter!” sez he in pitiful axents; “duz she think I wanted to -be there?” - -“Why did you go in, then?” sez I. - -“Because I made a mistake!” he thundered out. “I thought it wuz our -room. How should I know that there wuz a dum, red-headed fool there -a-ondressin’ herself at this time of night? Why wuzn’t she abed--up, -and skairin’ a man half to death?” - -“If you’d kep’ out, Josiah, you’d have escaped,” sez I more softer -like, for I see by his axents that he wuz a-sufferin’ from fear and the -effects of the shock. - -Sez I, “Be calm; accidents will happen, Josiah. Come to bed, and try to -forgit it.” - -[Illustration: Sez he, “I’m a-goin’ back--it is my duty.”] - -“I won’t try!” sez he. “I’m a-goin’ back and give that dum fool and -loonatick a piece of my mind. What henders some other man from walkin’ -in?” Sez he, “I’m a-goin’ back--it is my duty!” - -I riz up and laid holt of him, and sez I, “Do you stay where you be, -Josiah Allen. I should think you’d done enough for one night.” - -Sez he, “What henders Martin and Fazer from walkin’ in jest as I did, -and bein’ skairt to death?” - -Sez I, “Martin and Al Faizi know enough to take care of themselves, and -it is your place to go to bed and behave yourself.” - -“A-ondressin’ herself at this time of night!” he kep’ a-mutterin’ as he -put his vest down on a chair. - -“What are you a-doin’?” sez I. - -“Wall, there hain’t a lot of strange wimmen round, is there?” - -I see it wuz vain to dispute the pint. He acted deeply injured, and as -if the woman had made a plot to skair him, and I had to gin up the idee -of wringin’ any jestice out of his words and demeanors in the case. - -But the next mornin’ he felt calmer, and didn’t seem to blame her so -much, and admitted that she had to ondress, and said of his own accord -that mebby he had been too hard on her. - -But he wuzn’t quite reconciled, I could see, and felt deeply that he -might have escaped the shock if she hadn’t ondressed. - -Wall, our first visit wuz to Shakespeare’s birth-place. We sot out -bright and early. - -It is a long, old-fashioned-lookin’ house, with three gabriel ends in -the ruff on front, and kinder criss-cross-lookin’, some like a big -checker-board, the cross pieces of oak filled in with plaster, I should -jedge. - -We first went into the kitchen, with its wide, open fireplace, and how -I felt when I thought that here, right here, in this spot, the immortal -Shakespeare had often sot, with his feet and face burnin’ hot, and his -back a-freezin’, as is the way with them old fireplaces! - -But no matter how his body felt or didn’t feel, think of that mind, -that soul that wuz caged in here between these narrer and queer-lookin’ -walls. What visions them eager, bright eyes ust to see in the burnin’ -flames! What shadders and shapes the clouds of smoke took as they -floated up and away! How his soul follered ’em! How he sailed off into -strange heights and depths, sech as no other writer ever did, or can, -foller and explore! How the mind of the Infinite must have brooded over -that little sleeper that lay over three hundred years ago in that low, -shabby room upstairs--a small, dreary-lookin’ apartment, with the walls -covered with the names of visitors and verses, etc. - -We went up to it on a steep, narrer stairway. Martin had to take off -his tall hat or he couldn’t have got in--I d’no whether he would or not -if he hadn’t had to. I wuz proud to see that my pardner took off his -hat the minute we got inside; I wuz proud of the reverence he showed -for genius, and told him so. - -But he said he forgot that it wuzn’t meetin’, it seemed some like -it, he said, all dressed up at ten in the mornin’, and goin’ off all -together. - -After I spoke he wuz a-goin’ to put his hat on agin, but I sez-- - -“If you’ve blundered into reverential and noble ways, Josiah Allen, -don’t, for pity sake, break it up.” - -Of course my pardner always takes off his hat when goin’ into housen, -visitin’, or callin’, or sech, or in our own residence. But on our -travels, goin’ through big, cold buildin’s, dungeons, etc., he’s made a -practice of keepin’ it on, bein’ bald, and sufferin’ in his scalp from -cold. - -But here, in this place, this hant of genius, I felt for about the -first time sence I had been huntin’ antiquities, that I’d love to take -off my own bunnet and dress-cap, but I spozed that the move would draw -attention and call forth remarks, so I kep’ ’em on. - -But my sperit knelt bareheaded and bowed itself down before this shrine -of Wisdom and Genius, this earthly abode of one who showed what a grand -and divine thing the human mind may be; who held the secret of all -things common and transcendent--all things “that are dreamed of in our -philosophy” and more-- - -This magician, who showed “what fools we mortals be,” and showed to -what heights of wisdom men may attain-- - -Who held up his wonderful microscope and let mortals look through it -into the inside of their own hearts and feelin’s and emotions. And who -held up a lookin’-glass to Mom Nater, so she could see her old face in -it, every beauty and every deformity-- - -Who plunged us into the depths of sorrerful and heart-breakin’ -experience, bewitched us with his wit, and brung us up so clost to the -divine good that we almost feel the beatin’ of the great heart of love. - -Wonderful magician, indeed, and havin’ sech feelin’s for him for years -and years (ketched a good deal from Thomas J., who admires him beyend -any tellin’), I felt that it wuz strange indeed that she who wuz once -Smith should stand right here in the place where he had once lived. - -Al Faizi felt jest as I did, only more so--jest as still waters run -deepest. I could talk with my companion yet, and the others, but he -stood reverent and silent, and walked through the rooms like one in a -dream, in which sech visions come that it “give us pause.” - -But, as I say, I could still talk some--I seem to be made that way that -conversation is hard to smother in my breast. Lots of wimmen are made -jest so, and men too. - -Martin wuz talkin’ fluently to Alice and Adrian as they went from spot -to spot in the old house, and Martin wuz, I spozed, a-layin’ up a fount -of memories that the public could tap, and valuable information would -flow for their refreshin’. - -But anon I missed my pardner; but even as my Thought wuz a-reachin’ -after him, as it always must while it is yoked to my constant Heart, he -come up to me with joy in his mean and a piece of paper in his hand, -and sez he, with a glad and joyous axent, in which, too, pride wuz -blendin’, about a third of each ingregient a-makin’ up his hull mean. - -Sez he, “I have been a-writin’ a poem in the visitors’ book, Samantha, -and I copied it off for you on a leaf out of my account book--I knew -that you would want to see it, and then I shall keep the copy in my tin -trunk with my money and deeds.” - -I groaned instinctively, but suppressed it all I could as I sez-- - -“Let me know the worst to once! What have you writ?” - -He proudly ondid the paper, and I read-- - - “I, Josiah, - Am settin’ by the fire, - Am right on the spot - Where Shakespeare sot; - I’m proud to be there, - Though I spoze, from what Samantha sez, - that it hain’t the same chair.” - -“There,” sez he proudly, as he folded up the paper, and put it into his -portmoney. “There hain’t a verse here on these hull walls or on the -visitors’ book that will compare with that.” - -“No,” sez I coldly, “there hain’t--Heaven knows there hain’t.” - -Sez he proudly, “It has three great qualities, Samantha--it is terse, -melodious, and truthful. Shakespeare’s chair wuz sold two hundred years -ago to a Russian princess, and they’ve kep’ on a-sellin’ the original -chair several times sence, so how could it be here? If I’d been writin’ -in prose, I should a said that it wuz a dum humbug!” - -And here he paused reflectively and dreamily. - -“I might have said sunthin’ strong and strikin’ here-- - - “‘It makes me mad as a June bug - To see ’em try to humbug. - - ‘Josiah.’ - -“You know that June bugs hum,” and he murmured dreamily, “humbug, and -bughum; it would have been very ingenious, and I might say sunthin’ -strong about ‘tire,’ to rhyme with ‘Josiah,’ about relicks bein’ made -to order. ‘It makes me tired,’ you know, only have it come all in -poetry,” sez he; “it would be dretful appro_poss_.” - -Sez I coldly, “What you mean by that, I don’t have any idee.” - -“Why,” sez he, “I see it in _The World_; it is French, and it means to -have anything come in appropriate--appro_poss_, you know. I should have -used it in my poem, but I couldn’t think of anything to rhyme with it -but hoss.” - -Sez I, “_Tire_ is a good word to use in connection with your poetry. -Everybody would appreciate it, and hail it with effusion.” - -“But,” sez he with a wise air, “you have to be so careful in poetry. -You can’t use strong phrases much, if any. And then, knowin’ that I -wuz writin’ in the same book with kings, etc., I felt that it must be -genteel and stylish. And I knew you always loved to be remembered, and -so I brung your name in, Samantha.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “you brung it in in sech a way as to hurt his folkses -feelin’s as long as they make them chairs of hisen.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “it looks well for pardners to remember each other, and -it’s a rare quality, too.” - -I felt that he wuz right, and didn’t dispute him, and sez he-- - -“Samantha, I wanted you to be jined with me on the pillow of fame. I -don’t want to be anywhere where you hain’t, Samantha.” - -His tenderness touched my heart, and I kep’ still and let him go on, -only I merely remarked-- - -“As for its bein’ melodious, Josiah, your first line has got 2 words -in it, and your last one seventeen.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “that’s the way with great writers--they warm with -their subject as they go on, and git all het up with inspiration. Jest -think of Browning and Walt Whitman.” - -Sez I, “Don’t go to comparin’ that verse of yourn with Browning. Why, -folks know what you wuz a-writin’ about! Don’t compare yourself with -Robert Browning.” - -He see in a minute his deep mistake--he see that folks could find out -what he’d undertook to write about. - -“Wall, Walt Whitman,” sez he, “he writ jest as long and short lines. -I’ve seen ’em to home in that ‘Leaves of Grass’ Thomas J. owns.” - -“Wall, I wish your grass wuz to home, too,” sez I; “but,” sez I, -a-sithin’ hard, “I’ve got to stand it, I spoze. But,” sez I warmly, -“there hain’t a spot, from Egypt to Jonesville, but what I’d ruther had -you broke out into poetry in than in this house.” - -And I turned onto my heel and left him, feelin’ cheap as dirt about it, -though I comforted myself with the thought that his poetry wuzn’t the -only foolish lines writ there. - -[Illustration: Shakespeare’s ghost reading the effusions on the walls -of his house.] - -I believe that if Shakespeare’s ghost comes back and hants this old -spot--as it seems likely to spoze it duz--about the hardest thing it -has to bear is to read the effusions writ all over the walls and in -the visitors’ book, though some on ’em are quite good. - -Prince Lucian writ a very good verse. But, then, he writ in it that-- - - “He shed jest _one_ tear.” - -How under the sun anybody can make calculations ahead on sheddin’ jest -_one_ tear, no more, no less, is a mystery to me, and it must have been -jest out of one eye, and not the other. - -But bein’ a Prince, I spoze he done it; but I never could. I couldn’t -calculate closter than a dozen or twenty before I begun to cry, and I -couldn’t cry with one eye and keep the other dry to save my life. - -Our own Washington Irving writ quite a good verse, and so did the -American Hackett--the best actor of some of Shakespeare’s characters. - -Lots of actors have left their names in the room where the poet wuz -born--Edmund Kean, Charles Kean, and a great many others. And in the -visitors’ book you see writin’s from kings to chore-boys, and lines -in every language--English, German, French, Chinese, Hebrew, Persian, -Turkish, etc., etc., etc. - -The Poet of the World has the world come to do honor to his memory. - -Next to the thought that I wuz under the ruff that bent over the head -of Shakespeare wuz to see the writin’ of some who had writ their names -on the low walls. - -Charles Dickens! Why, jest to look on that one name, writ by his own -hand, would have been enough, if I had been to home, to furnished me -with deep emotions for ten days. Nobody knows what my feelin’s have -always been for that man. - -It hain’t quite so fashionable to love Dickens now as it ust to be. The -world has grown older and more genteel, and seems to prize more the -writin’s it can’t understand--the vaguer ones and more cross like, and -morbid, “Is Life Worth Living”--“No, it hain’t.” - -“How to be Happy though Married.” - -Ibsen, Tolstoi, etc., etc., etc., and so forth and so on. - -But I lay out to like Dickens till, like Barkis, the high water comes, -and--“I go out with the tide.” - -So his name, the Master, I laid my hand on’t, and had ninety-seven -emotions durin’ that time, and I presoom more, though truly I didn’t -count ’em. - -And Thackeray, who laughs with us over the weaknesses of humanity, yet -once in a great while strikes sech a hard and onexpected blow onto our -hearts and feelin’s, that we look right under that cynical veil he -chose to wear, and see the great, tender heart of the man. His name, -writ by his own hand, gin me powerful emotions, and sights on ’em. - -Lord Byron’s name rousted me up some. Poor, onhappy, restless creeter! -I wuz always sorry for him--sorry he wuz so mean and grand too--dretful -grand. I spoze he wuz so onhappy that he couldn’t help lettin’ it run -off the ends of his fingers sometimes onto the paper. - -Some of his poetry uplifts you, like bein’ on a mountain-top in a -storm, and some is like a calm moonlight night in the tropics, and -still there is some on’t that I never felt willin’ that Josiah Allen -should read--I felt that it would be resky to allow it. As I looked -at his signature I instinctively sez over to myself a verse of -hisen, that always seemed to be kinder open-hearted, and ownin’ up, -and had a good deal of human nater in it. Some despair and some plain -curosity--they always seem to touch a chord in everybody’s nater--I -guess that most everybody sometimes feels jest about so, jest so kinder -curous to know what is comin’ next-- - - “My whole life was a contest since the day - That gave me being-- - And I at times have found the struggle hard, - And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay; - But now I fain would for a time survive, - If but to see what next can well arrive!” - -Wall, he see the last thing arrive that we know anything about here. -What come next, after he shet his eyes in Greece (dyin’ nobly, anyway) -we can’t tell. But probble the one who formed that strange soul knew -jest what it needed the most, and deserved. - -Probble that was the--“The next thing that arrived.” - -But I am indeed a-eppisodin’, and to resoom-- - -Then there wuz Sir Walter Scott, and Tennyson, and Longfellow, and -everybody else, as you may say, who have distinguished themselves in -literature and art, and lots of Lords and Ladies, but them I didn’t -mind so much, knowin’ that for the most part that they had been born -into their lofty places onbeknown to ’em, but the others had made the -high pinnacles for themselves, and then stood up on ’em. - -In another room we see lots of relicks of the past. Josiah nudged me -once or twict a-lookin’ at ’em, I spoze to call attention to his poetry -and his doubts. But I declined to be nudged, and never looked up at him -at all, but kep’ my eye on the relicks. - -One is a seal ring of Shakespeare’s, with his initials, W. S., tied -together with a true lover’s knot. It wuz found near Stratford -meetin’-house, twenty years ago and over, and is spozed to be really -his ring, as he said sunthin’ in his will that shows that he had lost -his seal ring. - -Then there is a letter writ to Shakespeare by Richard Quincy, askin’ -the loan of some money. - -I sez to Josiah, “Whether he got it or not, if he could come back now -he could sell that letter of hisen for enough to make him comfortable.” - -“Yes,” sez Josiah; “I would give fifty cents for it myself, or -seventy-five, if he would take it in provisions.” - -“Hush!” sez I, “you couldn’t git it for that, for this letter, I feel, -is genuine. It seems so nateral, borrowin’ money of a writer. Why,” sez -I, “truth is stomped onto it.” - -Then there wuz the desk that Shakespeare sot at when a boy. A rough, -battered desk it wuz, with the lid lifted by leather hinges. - -I sot down to it and leaned my head onto my hand and -thought--thought--of how he felt when he wuz a-settin’ at it, and -wondered if he had boyish joys or boyish sorrers jest like the rest of -children. And if he scribbled poetry when he ort to be studyin’ his -rithmetic, and whether old Miss Shakespeare, his ma, sent him off to -school happy, with fond words and a kiss, or kinder mad from a spankin’. - -To spank Shakespeare! My soul revolted from the thought. - -Or whether, while he sot here, he studied his schoolmates and teachers -with eyes that must have held some fur-seein’ wisdom in ’em even at -that age, or whether his mind wuz all took up with goin’ in a-swimmin’ -in the clear waters of Avon, or a-goin’ a huntin’, or a-nuttin’ in -his rich neighbor’s woods, Sir Thomas Lucy, who looked down with sech -disdain on William when a boy and a young man, and now whose only -earthly chance of bein’ held in any remembrance is the fact that he -misused Shakespeare. - -But then mebby William wuz tryin’, boys are sometimes. - -I wondered if while he wuz a-settin’ here where I sot any dreams of -Anne Hathaway begun to come into his brain. She must have been about -eighteen, allowin’ that William wuz ten; mebby some dreams of the -pretty young girl hanted the boy’s vision, edgin’ themselves in between -thoughts of play and study. But before long them little dreams wuz -a-goin’ to rise up and push every other vision out of his mind. - -And then there wuz Shakespeare’s jug, and the old sign of the Falcon--I -hated to see ’em. - -And some old deeds and documents relatin’ to his father’s property, -from John Shackspere and Mary his wyffe, and a deed with Gilbert -Shakspere’s autograph on it. - -And lots of engravin’s of different places about Stratford, and a great -many portraits of Shakespeare. - -[Illustration: A great many portraits of Shakespeare.] - -Poor creeter! if he and Columbus have got acquainted with each other -where they be now, as I spoze it is nateral to think they have, how -they must sympathize with each other over the numerous faces they wuz -said to have had on this planet! Noble creeters, it wuz too bad, when -they only had one apiece, and good, noble-lookin’ ones, I most know, -or they wuz, anyway, when they got older, for Time, the sculptor, must -have sculped some of their noble traits into their faces. - -Martin and Alice bought quite a number of steroscopic views, and I -bought a few, and would, though Josiah looked askance at me as I did -it, and we left the cottage. But I laid my hand on the doorway as I -went out, as though it wuz a shrine, as indeed it wuz. - -Wall, havin’ seen the place where he wuz born, we naterally wanted to -see the place where he is a-layin’, where “After life’s fitful fever -he sleeps well,” havin’ “Ended the heartache, and all the natural ills -that flesh is heir to.” - -So we sot out for Holy Trinity Church. New Place, as it wuz called, -where Shakespeare spent the last days of his life, and where his girl -entertained Queen Henriette, wuz torn down in 1757 by its owner, who -had moved away, and didn’t want to pay the heavey taxes levied on it. -While livin’ there, he had cut down the mulberry-tree Shakespeare -planted, because folks thronged into his garden so, and cut off twigs, -etc., for relicks; so he cut it down. - -It seems mean in him, and then, on the other hand, it would be hard for -us to be broke in on any hour of the day, sometimes when we had a hard -headache, and wanted to set quiet under our own vine and mulberry-tree, -to have a gang of enthusiastick tourists come, and not only break up -your quiet, but break off your branches over your achin’ head, and -mebby recite Shakespeare right there in broad daylight, and declaim, -and elocute, and act. - -It would be tuff--tuff both ways. But the young folks of Stratford -wuzn’t megum--they didn’t try to see on all sides, as she who wuz once -Smith tries to do, so they used to pelt his winder with stuns and -things, so he moved out. And much as I honor and revere Shakespeare, -I feel kinder sorry for the man, mebby because nobody else seems to -say a decent word for him. But I believe he see trouble, with taxes, -tourists, elocution, and sech. And because our eyes are sot on a -blazin’ sun that is shinin’ high in the Heavens, it hain’t no sign that -we ort to kick over every kerosene lamp and candle that we come acrost. -No; less be jest to all, and respect what is respectable in ’em, and be -sorry for humble trials, as well as proud of lofty glories. - -But to resoom--The house that stands on the spot now is owned by the -town, and is a museum of Shakespeare’s relicks and souvneirs. It is -needless to say how many emotions I had as I walked onwards towards the -tomb of the greatest writer who has ever appeared on our planet--in -fact, I couldn’t count ’em or begin to, if there wuz any need on’t. - -Nor nobody couldn’t see the crowd that walked with me--King -Lear, with sweet Cordelia a kinder holdin’ him up; eloquent -Portia, Lady Macbeth--the Henrys and Richards--the bright-faced -Shrew that wuz tamed--Prince Hamlet--Ophelia a-babblin’ her love -ditties--Imogene--poor Desdemona, and her folks, and etc., etc., etc., -etc., etc. How they pressed round me!--a great deal nigher to me than -Adrian wuz, though I wuz a-leadin’ him by the hand. - -The church stands near the banks of the sweet Avon. And we went up to -it by a avenue of trees, and through a great Gothic door, into a porch -that led into the church itself. The old sexton, who had onlocked the -door for us, at our request led us right up to the monument, which is -in a niche in the chancel, and is spozed to be a perfect likeness, as -it wuz made by a sculptor who wuz acquainted with Shakespeare, and who -had a death mask to work from. - -There he stands or sets, as the case may be, for a sort of a marble -cushion comes up in front of him, and you can’t see quite to the bottom -of his vest. - -He stands (or sets) with that high, noble forward and good-lookin’ -featers, and eyes that look clear through your soul, and that deep -collar of hisen on, under a arch that has some cupids up on each side -on top, and coats-of-arms, and skulls, and things. - -And there he has stood (or sot) through the centuries, jest as I spoze -he would wanted to, with a paper in one hand and a pen in the other, to -all appearance a-writin’, and the hull world a-readin’ it. - -In front of the altar rails are the marble slabs over the graves of the -Shakespeare family, among them his wife, Anne Hathaway; it reads as -follers-- - - “Here lyeth interred the body of Anne, - Wife of William Shakspere, who depted this life the - 6 day of Aug. 1623, being of the age of 67 years.” - -Another slab marks the grave of Susanna, the poet’s daughter. - -But, of course, the slab that gin me the biggest sized emotions, and -the greatest number on ’em, wuz the one over the poet, which has these -mysterious and immortal lines on’t-- - - “Good friend, for Jesu’s sake forbeare - To digg the dust encloased heare; - Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones, - And cursed be he yt moves my bones.” - -I had a immense emotions of or as I read these words, and dassent -hardly lay my hand on’t. But made up my mind that as I didn’t have no -idee of movin’ his bones, and laid out to spare the stuns, I might -venter. - -There are them that think that some great secret wuz buried with -Shakespeare--them are the ones that are so sot on thinkin’ that Bacon -wuz the one who writ the great plays, and they say in this very -inscription is hid in cypher a confession that Bacon writ ’em. - -But I didn’t seem to think so, nor Josiah didn’t, though he wuz all -took up with the idee of the cypher, as Martin broached it. - -Sez he, “How beautiful it would be, and how stylish, to write to you -when you’re off on your towers with a cypher! I could write it in -poetry, and it would be so uneek, and if I wanted to complain to you -about the children, or Ury, or anything, how handy it would be!” - -“But,” I sez, “in answer to that idee of yourn, I can quote to you the -first line of Shakespeare’s epitaph, and I feel it, too,” sez I. - -He went back and read it over agin, and come back lookin’ real puggicky. - -But I see that other folks had felt jest as I did about disturbin’ the -slab, for it looked fresh and new, while the other ones near it wuz all -worn with the footprints of time and the tourists; and when the poet’s -wife and daughter died, they wanted dretful to be laid by William, but -they dassent open the grave. The curse he threatened held ’em back. - -Queer! I wish I knew what he meant by it, but can’t; the silence of -three hundred years can’t be broke by one small woman’s voice, or -ruther one woman’s small voice. No answer comes to our deep wonder and -curosity. - -In this church is the font where Shakespeare wuz baptized--this wuz -in the church at the time of his birth, but wuz took out in the -seventeenth century, and replaced by a new one; this old one lay for -years in a heap of rubbish, and wuz used for a pump trough for a -spell--jest think on’t! - -[Illustration: The font in which Shakespeare was baptized.] - -There is other interestin’ things in the church, but we didn’t wait to -see ’em. We went out and wandered for a spell around the quaint streets -of Stratford. Every shop almost has souvneirs to sell of the great -man--busts and medallions and picters of him and his home, and his -tomb, and carvin’s, engravin’s, etc., etc. I _would_ buy a plate with -his birthplace on’t, though Josiah demurred. - -Sez he, “I always thought you wuz so peticular, Samantha, what you -eat on, and the idee of eatin’ on Shakespeare--cow-slop greens, for -instance, or pork and beans.” - -I sez, “It hain’t Shakespeare’s face.” - -“Wall, eatin’ cabbage and onions on a meetin’-house.” - -“It is _his_ house,” sez I. - -“Wall,” sez he, “custard and Shakespeare’s birthplace.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “what of it--what of custard and Shakespeare?” My tone -wuz cold--cold as ice, and it danted him, and he sez--“Oh, wall, if you -can reconcile ’em, and bring ’em together, buy it.” - -It wuz the money he begreched, though you could git ’em from a sixpence -up. I gin a shillin’ for mine. It wuz a good plate. - -Wall, we went acrost the old bridge, over the clear waters of the Avon. -And we visited the Memorial Hall, a big buildin’ built in honor of -the poet’s three hundredth anniversary. It has a theatre to act out -Shakespeare’s plays on Memorial days, and a library filled with the -volumes that have been writ about him, and the picter gallery is filled -with picters, some on ’em different faces of hisen, and them relatin’ -to his life and writin’s. It wuz a interestin’ spot, and I would have -loved to lingered in it longer, and so would Alice and Al Faizi, but -Josiah wuz tired out, and he sed to me aside-- - -“It is most night and I am starved to death!” Sez he, “I hain’t most -starved, but starved.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “we shall have to do what Martin sez.” - -“Martin!” he whispered enough to take my head off--“Martin! Can he -suffer and die for me, do you think?” - -And then he reviled me for not havin’ some cookies and cheese with me. - -And I asked him if I could be expected to make a restoraunt of myself, -and lug round cookies and cheese for him all over Europe. And we had -some words. - -But the expression of his face wuz pitiful in the extreme when Martin -come up, and sez he-- - -“Without doubt it would be expected of me to visit Shottery and see -Anne Hathaway’s cottage. And as my time is limited, and I have already -wasted nearly a day of my valuable time in noticing Shakespeare, I -think that we had better do up the whole of this weary job to-night; so -I propose that we go at once from here to Shottery.” And he hurried out -to the carriage. - -Josiah whispered to me in a feeble voice, “He needn’t use any Shottery -on me or stabbery or any other killery, I shall fall dead without ’em. -I cannot stand it, Samantha!” sez he. - -He did indeed look wan; weariness and hunger had made sad inroads on -his mean, and my heart melted, and I hurried out to see if I could -gain Martin’s consent to wait till mornin’ before we went. But no! He -said he knew that he should be asked if he had seen the cottage, and -he could not waste another day on a writer of books and the girl he -married. - -Alice come out jest then a-lookin’ considerable pale, and I sez, “It is -goin’ to be pretty hard on Alice and Adrian; they are pretty tired now.” - -“Are they?” sez he. That man would have jumped into the Avon if it -would have pleased either of ’em. He worships ’em. And then he sez, “I -suppose I can stay over another day.” Sez he, “They are of the _first_ -importance.” - -[Illustration: The supper that man eat wuz enormous.] - -Josiah sez to me aside--“Dear Samantha, you have saved my life!” - -And the supper that man eat wuz so enormous that I whispered-- - -“Have I saved you, Josiah, to lose you now? saved you on the road and -relicks, to lose you on a plate and deep dish?” And he didn’t like it. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -SHOTTERY AND WARWICK CASTLE. - - -Wall, the next mornin’ we sot out bright and early for Shottery, Josiah -feelin’ as peart as you please, and the two children’s faces lookin’ -like roses. Al Faizi’s eyes wuz bent on the biggest and sweetest rose, -as you may say, with a worshippin’ look, that nobody noticed but she -who wuz once Smith. - -We found the cottage a long, low buildin’, lookin’ as old as the hills, -though, like ’em, there didn’t seem to be no signs of fallin’ down and -decayin’. - -They say it is in jest the condition it wuz when gentle Anne Hathaway -lived here, and drawed William over here so often by the strong -magnetism of love. - -The walls wuz kinder criss-crossed, lookin’ some like Shakespeare’s -cottage, and the ruff wuz kinder histed up in places, down towards the -eaves, into gabriel ends. And some birds wuz playin’ and wheelin’ round -the chimblys. They might have been to all appearance the very same -birds that sang round the latticed winders of Anne’s room, and waked -her up on summer mornin’s, a-sayin’ to her, as they wheeled round and -round it, in the rosy dawn-- - -“Will is coming to-day to see you! Will loves you! Will loves you!” - -I presoom the birds wuz relations to them very ones--grandchildren, -“removed” a great number of times. - -If birds keep a family tree and plume themselves on their ancestors -(and trees and plumes comes nateral to ’em), I presoom they talk this -over amongst themselves; mebby that wuz jest what they wuz a-talkin’ -about that day, a-twitterin’ about legends a-flyin’ down from the past-- - -How the happy, eager-faced lover ust to come to see their pretty Anne, -and how her heart wuz won, and she went out of the old house a happy -bride with the man of her heart, who wuz not an illustrious man to her -at all, but only Will, Will Shakespeare, the man she loved, and who -loved her. - -How they did chirp and talk sunthin’ over! I d’no what it wuz. - -Inside wuz some old-fashioned furniture, amongst the rest a bed that -ust to belong to Miss Shakespeare, she that wuz Anne Hathaway. Mebby it -wuz the same bedstead that her pardner left her in his will. - -“His second-best bed and bed furniture.” - -It seems as if he hadn’t ort to done it; it seems as if she ort to had -the best one. Howsumever, there might be reasons that I don’t know -nothin’ of that influenced him. Mebby they’d had words over it; mebby -she’d told him that she wouldn’t take it as a gift, and that he needn’t -give it to her; mebby she thought it wuz extravagant in him to buy -it, and throwed it in his face that as much as he paid for it, it wuz -nothin’ but hens’ feathers, and the second-best bed, the one her ma had -gin her, wuz as good agin and softer layin’. - -I d’no, nor nobody don’t. Anyway, he willed it to her, and I presoom it -wuz on this very bedstead it wuz put; it gin me queer emotions to look -on’t, and a sight on ’em. - -Wall, Martin sed that as the day wuz partially wasted, we might jest as -well drive over and see Warwick Castle; it wuz only eight milds’ drive. - -The old town of Warwick is about eighteen hundred years old, and dates -back to the time of the Romans. - -But, as Martin well sed, “Think of a town over eighteen hundred years -old with only ten thousand inhabitants, and then,” sez he, a-leanin’ -back in the carriage and puttin’ his thumbs in his vest pockets -a-pityin’ and a-patronizin’ the Old World dretfully-- - -“Think of Chicago, about fifty years old and with a population of -about forty hundred thousand”--he spread out the population a purpose. -He owns lots of real estate in Chicago, and is always a-puffin’ it up. - -Sez he, “They haven’t got public enterprise and push over here, as we -have.” - -But his tone kinder grated on my nerve somehow, and I spoke up and sez-- - -“They don’t base their reputation on a mob of folks, and beef and pork; -they have sunthin’ more solider and more riz up like.” - -But I’ll be hanged if I didn’t have to change my mind a little -afterwards, of which more anon. - -You see I had heard Thomas J. read a sight about the old Saxon earls -of Warwick, and specially Guy Warwick in the time of Alfred the Great -(you know the man that fried them pancakes and burnt ’em, and had other -great reverses, but come out right in the end, as men always do who are -willin’ to help wimmen in their housework). - -I always bore strong on this great moral when Thomas J. would be -a-readin’ these deeds to me (I thought he might jest as well wipe a -few dishes for me once in a while as well as not). And he’d read “how -Guy killed a Saxon giant nine feet tall, and a wild boar, and a green -dragon, and killed an enormous cow.” - -At the porter’s lodge we see the rib of that cow, and Josiah said, “You -sed that they didn’t date back any of their greatness to beef; what do -you call this? Why,” sez he, “Ury and I kill a cow almost every fall; -nothin’ is said in history of it; you don’t set any more store by me.” - -I see that I had done the man onjestice, and I sez tenderly, “You -are a good provider of beef, Josiah, and always have been; but,” sez -I, “this cow wuz probble twice the size of one of your Jerseys. You -couldn’t wear that breastplate, or swing that great tiltin’-pole, or -the enormous sword that hangs up there,” sez I, “you couldn’t move ’em -hardly with both hands, and,” sez I, “look at that immense porridge-pot -of hisen; you couldn’t eat that full of porridge, as he probble did.” - -[Illustration: “You couldn’t eat that full of porridge.”] - -“Try me!” sez he, earnestly--“jest try me, that’s all.” Sez he, “I -could eat every spunful and ask for more.” - -And there it wuzn’t much after noon. That man’s appetite is a wonder -to me and has been ever sence I took it in charge. And foreign travel, -which I thought mebby would kind o’ quell it down, only seems to whet -it up to a sharper edge. - -The way to the castle is through a large gateway, and then we go -through a roadway which is cut through solid rock for more’n a hundred -feet, and then when you come out, you suddenly git a full view of the -grand old castle, with its strong walls and noble old Round towers. - -The first is Guy’s Tower, one hundred and twenty-eight feet high, and -has walls ten feet thick--jest think on’t! the walls further acrost -than our best bedroom. - -Then there is Cæsar’s Tower, eight hundred years old and one hundred -and fifty feet high, and between these towers the gray, strong old -castle walls, with slits in ’em for the bowmen to shoot their arrers -out of, and portcullises and old moat, showin’ that the castle in its -young days had everything for its comfort and defence. Enterin’ one of -the arched gateways in the wall, you find yourself on the velvet grass -and amongst the stately old trees of a spacious courtyard, with the -ivy-covered walls and towers and battlements risin’ on every side of it. - -We walked round up on them walls--clumb up into Guy’s Tower and looked -off on a glorious landscape, as beautiful as any picter, and went down -below Cæsar’s Tower into some dungeons; gloomy places of sorrer, filled -even now with the atmosphere of pain and agonized memories. - -The great hall, sixty-two feet by forty, with oak ceilin’ and walls -darkened by time and covered with carvin’s, has firearms of all kinds, -and splendid armor of all ages--English crossbows, wicked-lookin’ -Italian rapiers, weepons of all kinds inlaid with gold and silver in -the most elegant workmanship. - -We see Prince Rupert’s armor, Cromwell’s helmet, a gun from the -battlefield of Marston Moor. And, in fact, all round you you see the -most elegant and curous curosities, and can look down the hull length -of the grand apartments that open into each other, a length of three -hundred and thirty feet--the red drawin’-room, the gilt drawin’-room, -the cedar drawin’-room, etc., etc. - -At the end of a little hall leadin’ from the great hall I see the noted -picter of Charles 1st on horseback, with one hand on his side. - -I declare, it actually seemed as if he wuz a-goin’ to ride right -in here amongst us, it wuz so perfectly nateral. It wuz painted by -Vandyke. I don’t see how Vandyke ever done it--I couldn’t. - -The apartments are all furnished beautiful--beautiful. Cabinets, -bronzes, exquisite old china, magnificent anteek furniture, and the -most rare and beautiful picters are on every side--by Rubens, Sir -Peter Lely, Hans Holbein, Salvator Rosa, Rembrandt, Vandyke, Guido, -Andrea del Sarto, Teniers, Murillo, Paul Veronese. And beautiful marble -busts by Chantrey, Powers, etc. There wuz a lovely table that once wuz -owned by Marie Antoinette. And others had rarest vases on ’em, and -wonderful enamelled work of glass and china, with raised figgers on -’em, made by floatin’ the metals in glass; nobody in the world knows -now how to make ’em. One dish we see wuz worth one thousand pounds. - -As I see this I nudged Josiah, and sez I, “When you think of what this -dish is worth, hain’t you ashamed of standin’ out about that plate?” -And he said-- - -“It wuz the sperit of the thing I looked at, mixin’ Shakespeare up with -vittles; though,” sez he, “I would gladly eat now offen a angel or a -seraphin; why,” sez he, “St. Peter himself wouldn’t dant me.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “we’ll be havin’ dinner before long.” We laid out to eat -at Warwick before we went back. - -Sez I, “Look round you and let your soul grow by takin’ in these noble -sights.” Sez I, “Look at them bronzes and tortoise-shell and ivory and -mosaic.” - -Sez he, “I’d swop the hull lot of ’em, if they belonged to me, for -a plate of nut cakes or a bologna sassige. And I’d ruther see a good -platter of pork and beans than the hull on ’em!” - -I knew he wouldn’t complain so much alone, so I left him and sauntered -round to look at the beautiful objects on every side. - -In the state bedroom is the bed that belonged to Queen Anne, and the -table and trunks that she used, also her picter. - -In the grand dinin’ hall is a great sideboard, made from a oak that -grew on the Kenilworth estate, so old that they spoze it wuz standin’ -when Queen Elizabeth come here to the castle a-visitin’. - -The carvin’s on it show the comin’ of Queen Elizabeth and her train, -her meetin’ with sweet Amy Robsart in the grotto, the queen’s meetin’ -with Leicester, etc., etc. - -Jest as I wuz a-lookin’ at this and a-standin’ before it in deep -thought, Martin come on out of the drawin’-room, and sez he-- - -“A wonderful display of art and virtu!” sez he. - -My eye wuz bent on that sideboard, and I sez-- - -“I d’no as I’d call it a display of virtue--I don’t believe I would.” - -I wuz sorry for Miss Leicester--sorry as a dog. - -Though when I see the epitaph she put above that handsome, fascinatin’ -mean creeter (her husband), put it over him her own self, when he -wuzn’t by her to skair her and make her stand up for him as pardners -will sometimes--I d’no as I wuz very sorry for her. Thinkses I, She -either didn’t know enough to know what her pardner wuz up to, or else -she wuz sech a fool she didn’t care about it. In either case I felt -that my sympathy wuz wasted--of which epitaph more anon. - -Wall, we went through a place in the wall they called a portcullis, and -over a bridge called a moat. - -[Illustration: “The more I see of moats, the more determined I be to -have one round our house.”] - -And Josiah nudged me here, and sez he, “The more I see of moats, the -more determined I be to have one round our house.” Sez he, “How stylish -it would be and how handy! When you see company comin’ you didn’t want, -or peddlers or agents or anything, jest pull back your drawbridge, and -there you’d be safe and sound.” Sez he, “I’ve wanted one for years, and -now I’m bound on havin’ one.” Sez he, “Ury and I will start one the -minute I git home.” - -Sez I, “You won’t do any sech thing.” - -“Why,” sez he, a-arguin’, “it would be a boon to you, Samantha; hain’t -I hearn you groan when onexpected company driv up, and you wuz out -of cookin’ or cleanin’ house or anything? All you’d have to do would -be jest to speak to Ury or me, and jest as they wuz a-comin’ along, -a-thinkin’ of dinner mebby, a-wonderin’ what you’d have--bang! would go -the drawbridge, and they’d jest have to back up, and turn round and go -home.” - -“Yes,” sez I; “how could I face ’em the next Sunday in meetin’? It -hain’t feasible,” sez I. - -“Face ’em?” sez he; “if they said anything, tell ’em to start a moat of -their own; tell ’em you couldn’t keep house without one.” - -“Oh, shaw!” sez I; “come and look at this vase.” - -And, indeed, we had entered a greenhouse full of the most beautiful -flowers and rare plants, and wuz even then in front of the famous -Warwick vase. It is a huge, round, white marble vase that holds one -hundred and thirty-six gallons, with clusters of grapes and leaves and -tendrils; and vine branches, exquisitely wrought, run round the top -and form the two large handles, with other designs full of grace and -beauty all wrought in it. How old this vase is nobody knows, but it wuz -used by somebody probbly centuries before old Warwick Castle wuz ever -thought on. - -Who wuz it that drinked out of it? How did they look? How come it sunk -in the bottom of the lake? I d’no, nor Josiah don’t. - -It wuz found at the bottom of a lake near Tivoli by Sir William -Hamilton, Ambassador then at the court of Naples. - -I gazed pensively on the vine-clad spear of Mr. Bacchus carved on it, -and sez I to Josiah-- - -“How true it is that that sharp spear that Mr. Bacchus brandishes is -covered with beautiful vines and flowers at first; but it stabs,” sez -I--“it stabs hard, and,” sez I, “who knows but somebody that had been -pierced to the heart by that spear of hisen, a-reachin’ ’em mebby -through the ruined life of some loved one--who knows but what he got so -sick of seein’ them symbols of drinkin’ revels that he jest pitched it -into the lake?” - -“Keep on!” sez Josiah, “keep on! I believe you’d keep up your dum -temperance talk if you wuz on the way to the scaffold.” - -“That would be the time to preach it,” sez I; “scaffolds is jest what -drinkin’ revels lead to, and if it wuz my last words, mebby folks would -pay some attention to what I said.” - -“Wall, wait till then,” sez he. “I have got to have a little rest. I am -dyin’ for a little food, and if I git through this day alive I have got -to be careful, and let my _ears_ rest anyway.” - -He did indeed look quite bad, and I sez soothin’ly-- - -“Wall, Martin will be for goin’ back before long now. He is gittin’ -hungry himself; I heard him say so.” - -We didn’t stop to but one more place on our way back to the tarvern -where we had dinner, and that wuz to that old horsepital founded by -Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, in 1571. It wuz meant in the first -place for one Master and twelve bretheren, the bretheren to be of -the Earl’s servants, or his soldiers who had been injured in battle. -But now they are appointed from Warwick and Gloucester, and have a -comfortable livin’. - -It wuz quite likely in Robert to build this horsepital--a -old-fashioned-lookin’ place enough in 1895. But sech likely deeds as -this couldn’t cover up his black performances. - -The chapel is an elegant buildin’, built for a memorial to the great -Earl of Warwick, the first in the Norman line, and his elaborate tomb -is here. - -But it wuz in this chapel where I see the epitaph of which I spoke -more formerly. It is over the tomb of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, -the one Queen Elizabeth thought so much on. There I see the epitaph I -despised. - -On the tomb are the recumbent figgers of Leicester and his pardner, the -Countess Lettice. Probbly about the only time they wuz ever so nigh to -each other without quarrellin’, and this epitaph sez, after givin’ all -his titles--more’n enough of ’em-- - -“His most sorrowful wife Letitia, through a sense of conjugal love -and fidelity, has put up this monument to the _best_ and _dearest_ of -husbands.” - -She must have been a _fool_, for besides his goin’s on with the -queen--which would made me as jealous as a dog--a learned writer says-- - -“According to every appearance of probability, he poisoned his first -wife, disowned his second, dishonored his third before he married her, -and in order to marry her, murdered her first husband, while his only -surviving son was a natural child by Lady Sheffield.” - -“The _best_ of husbands!” What wuz Lettice a-thinkin’ on? She’d no need -to put his actin’s and cuttin’s up on a tombstun. I wouldn’t advised -her to; but I should say to her--“Now, Lettice, you jest put onto -that gravestun a good, plain Bible verse--‘The Lord be merciful to me, -a sinner,’ or, ‘Now the weary are at rest,’” or sunthin’ like that--I -should have convinced her. But, then, I wuzn’t there--I wuz born a few -hundred years too late, and so it had to be; but it made me feel bad to -see it. I want my sect to have a little self-respect. - -Al Faizi is dretful well-read in history, and he took out that -little book of hisen, and copied off the hull of the inscription on -Leicester’s tomb, all the glowin’ eulogy of his glorious deeds, which -he knew wuz false. He didn’t say nothin’, as usual, but looked quite a -good deal as he writ. - -I didn’t say nothin’ to him, but Josiah will att him once in a while -about his writin’, and he sez now-- - -“What are you a-writin’ about, Fazer?” - -He turned his dreamy, pleasant eyes onto us, and seemed to be lookin’ -some distance through us and beyend us, and the light from the East -winder fell warm on his face as he sez evasively-- - -“Your missionaries tell our people to always tell the truth--that we -will be lost if we do not.” - -“Wall,” sez Josiah, “that is true.” - -Al Faizi didn’t reply to him, but kep’ on a-writin’. - -Wall, a happy man wuz my pardner as we returned to the tarvern, and a -good, refreshin’ meal of vittles wuz spread before him. He done jestice -to it--full jestice--yes, indeed! - -Wall, the next mornin’ we sot out for the Lake Deestrict, accordin’ to -Martin’s first plan, which he’d changed some. Sez Martin, as we wuz -talkin’ it over that evenin’-- - -“It would, perhaps, be expected of me to go on and visit Oxford.” - -“Yes,” sez I warmly, “Thomas J. has read so much to me about Tom Brown -at Oxford, it would be highly interestin’ to see the places Tom thought -so much on.” - -“Yes,” sez Alice with enthoosiasm, “and where Richard the Lion-hearted -was born, and where Alfred the Great lived.” - -Sez Josiah, “I wouldn’t give a cent to see where he lived. I despise -fryin’ flap-jacks, and always did, and if a man undertakes to fry ’em, -he ort to tend to ’em and not let ’em burn.” - -But Alice went right on, “And think of being in the place which William -the Conqueror invaded!” - -“And,” sez Al Faizi, “where Latimer, and Ridley, and Cranmer were -burned at the stake for their religion by Bloody Mary.” - -It beat all how well-read that heathen is--he knows more than the -schoolmaster at Jonesville, enough sight. - -But sez Martin, with his thumbs inside of them armholes of hisen-- - -“It is not for any such trifling reasons that I would visit Oxford, -but, as I say, it undoubtedly would be expected of me, if it was known -at Oxford that I was so near, that I would give a little of my valuable -time to them; for there, I have thought hard of sending my son to -finish his education. - -“For as you know, Cousin Samantha, my boy is to have the best and -costliest education that money can give. His future is in the hands of -one who will look out sharply for the very best and most valuable means -of education. It is not as if he were a common child. But he is my -little Partner--are you not, Adrian?” sez he fondly to the little boy, -who wuz lookin’ dreamily out of the winder. - -Adrian turned, and the gold of the settin’ sun wuz on his sweet face. - -“Your father will look out for your future, little Partner; we will -work together for your good, will we not, my boy?” - -Mebby it wuz because I sot there so nigh--mebby it wuz the perfume of -the English voyalets Alice had pinned into the front of my bask, jest -like ’em I wore that day, but, anyway, some recollection seemed to take -him back to that time at Jonesville, for he sez, jest as he did then-- - -“I am going to work for the poor.” - -[Illustration: “I am going to work for the poor.”] - -“Ah, indeed!” sez Martin, smilin’, “and how will you do it, little -Partner?” - -Agin he turned his sweet face towards us, and agin the big, earnest -eyes and sweet, serious mouth wuz gilded by the glowin’, yet sad smile -of the sinkin’ sun. - -And he sez simply, “I don’t quite know how, Father, but I know I shall -work for them, and help them in some way.” - -Wall, Martin dismissed the matter with a laugh, but I kep’ the words in -my heart, and believed ’em. I believed truly that the Lord would lead -him, and make him do His work. - -Wall, I kinder wanted to visit Mugby Junction, as Dickens named Rugby -Junction. It wuzn’t fur from Warwick, and I’d loved to seen it, and eat -one of them sandwitches, and been glared at by the female in charge -there, and her help, and seen her poor, browbeat husband and the _Boy_, -but didn’t know as they wuz all alive. - -And if they wuz, as Josiah well sed, sez he, “My stumick is bad enough -now, without eatin’ leather sandwitches.” - -And I sez, “I’d love to give ’em my recipe for good yeast bread, and -I’d willin’ly tell ’em how to make delicious sandwitches, and not ask a -cent for it.” - -Sez I, “Take good minced chicken, or lamb, and a little mustard and -sweet butter, and a pinch of minced onions and--” - -But Josiah interrupted me, “They’d only look stunily at you if you -offered your services; why,” sez he, “they always look as if they feel -so much above you at our railroad stations to home, that you want to -crawl into your hand-bag and git out of their way. They’d despise your -overtoors.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “my conscience would be clear, and travellers’ -nightmairs wouldn’t be so frequent.” - -But a bystander observed that they had good sandwitches there now. - -Havin’ been turned round in their stuny and leather course, by -Dickens, I spoze. - -So we packed up our things and started in pretty good sperits for the -Lake Deestrict. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE LAKE DISTRICT AND ITS POETS. - - -We went to Windermere, and from there took the omnibus for Bowness-- - -One of the charmin’est little villages I ever sot my eyes on, as clean -as my kitchen is when I git it all swept out. The housen are all built -of stun, and some on ’em have little porches built out on ’em, but all -on ’em overrun with ivy. And flowers and pretty climbin’ plants make -every house attractive, and not a mite of dust or dirt--I wonder what -they do with it? - -The little tarvern where we stayed wuz so clean and comfortable that -I wondered what the tarvern-keeper and his wife would say if they wuz -sot down in some of our own small hotels. It wuz a lesson in perfect -neatness and order, the hull place wuz. - -And the landscapes all round the little village wuz pretty enough to -frame, and we see ’em more or less all the while we stayed there; we -made our headquarters there, and sallied out for excursions, a-lookin’ -on picters on every side on us--green grass and foliage, high, -tree-covered hills, little, lovely, clean, picturesque villages like -them I have described, magnificent country seats, with grand entrances -and porters’ lodges, and stately green parks, and fountains, and deers, -and sleek herds of cattle walkin’ through on the velvet grass and -green tree aisles, and cottages, and quaint old bridges, and dark stun -churches half covered with ivy. - -Bowness is on the shores of the lake. As I say, we put up at a good -tarvern, and the next day we sot out on our sight-seein’. - -The waiter at the tarvern told us as we sot out on our first excursion -that we had better take our waterproofs and umbrells. - -It is needless to say that I had my faithful umbrell in my hand, but -the rest hadn’t, so they got theirn, and I went back for my waterproof, -and glad enough we wuz, for before night we wuz ketched out in four -different showers--good drivin’ ones, but short. - -Martin, who had been ust to fur bigger lakes--Michigan, Ontario, -Superior, and sech--wuz bitterly dissapinted in ’em, and sez he-- - -“A trout out of Lake Superior would die of thirst in one of these -lakes.” - -And Josiah, who had been up on our lakes on a tower, sed that those -lakes would make a pretty good waterin’ trough for American cattle; sez -he, “There would be in each one of ’em as much as an ordinary Yankee -cow would want to drink.” - -I see the driver a-lookin’ on in deep surprise, and sez I, “Josiah -Allen, remember you are a deacon; let it be known to once that you are -talkin’ in parables.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I would want to be took in that way, but they’re dum -small potatoes compared to our lakes.” - -“But they’re beautiful,” sez I, “and are full of tender associations.” -Sez I, “Look at the poets that have hallowed these sacred -spots--Coleridge, and Southey, and Wordsworth, and Mrs. Hemans, and--” - -“Wall,” sez Josiah, interruptin’ me, “on our lakes there is me, and--” - -But I turned away in silent scorn, and looked out on the beauty of the -seen. Lovely picters lay round us on every side--wooded shores, lovely -islands, glowin’ waters--a paneramy of beauty never to be forgot. - -Dove’s Nest, which wuz once the home of Mrs. Hemans, I looked on with -a deep interest, for though Felishy and I didn’t think alike about -little Casey Bianky, who “stood on the burnin’ deck,” and I should have -approved of his runnin’ away before he got burnt up, still I respected -her for quite a number of things, and as I meditated on the poets who -had loved this beautiful place, and lived here and wrote their songs, -I instinctively thought, in the words of Felishy-- - - “Where are these dreamers now?” - -The biggest of these lakes are Windermere, Ullswater, Conoston and -Durwentwater, but there are a good many others. And they are all, like -our Niagara Falls and Thousand Islands, been turned into money-makin’ -shows. - -Wall, of course we wanted to see-- - - “How the waters come down to Lodore.” - -But we wuz dretful dissapinted, for the water didn’t come a-sweepin’ -down with the force and fury Mr. Southey described--not at all. Josiah, -who had hearn Thomas J. read the poem, wuz mad to think it wuzn’t so. -“And,” sez he, in a threatenin’ way-- - -“I could tell Mr. Southey that we didn’t know none the better for _his_ -tellin’ ‘How the waters come down to Lodore.’ - -“Why,” sez he, “the mill-dam to our buzz-saw mill in Jonesville is -furious agin as this, and more noble and impressin’ lookin’ by fur, -and,” sez he, gettin’ all het up, “I’d love to tell Mr. Southey so.” - -Sez I, “Josiah, don’t git nerved up and talk about jawin’ a man who -has been dead for more’n fifty years.” Sez I, “It don’t sound decent in -you--he meant well.” - -Sez I, “He wuz good to his own family, and then think of how dretful -good he wuz to Coleridge’s wife and children; though, to be sure,” sez -I, “they wuz relations on _Her_ side.” - -“I understand that,” sez Josiah; “he could do _that_ and not deserve -any particular thanks to _himself_. I know how _that_ is.” - -I see he wuz insinuatin’ sunthin’ or ruther, but I wuzn’t browbeat, nor -wuzn’t led off by him. Sez I-- - -“He writ first-rate prose, and wuz Poet Lauerate. - -“That wuz what might be expected,” sez Josiah. - -I don’t exactly know what he did mean by that, and I don’t believe he -did. - -“Then,” sez I, “he wuz the greatest talker that ever talked. He would -talk for hours and hours, without gittin’ up, or those gittin’ up that -heard him.” - -“I know what that is,” sez Josiah; “that don’t raise him in my -estimation; no, Heaven knows it don’t!” - -I hain’t the _least_ idee what he meant by _that_, but he found -immegiately that I wouldn’t multiply any more words with him. - -But, as I sez, it wuz a comfort to visit this hant of Southey, and I -wuzn’t goin’ to see him run down too much for enlargin’ a little mite -about the power of that waterfall; as I sez to Josiah-- - -“Sunthin’ ort to be allowed for a poet’s license.” - -“Oh, yes, that is so; I didn’t think of it,” sez he. “I thought it wuz -a barefaced lie. I see,” sez he; “I make use of one of them poet’s -licenses myself sometimes; I forgot.” - -Wall, the waters did meander down in a very languishin’ and thin sort -of a way, and I couldn’t deny it, but the surroundin’s wuz beautiful -and the associations hantin’ and powerful in the extreme. - -Wall, while we wuz in that neighborhood I see everything I could of the -remains of the Lake School of Poets. I told Josiah I wanted to, and he -sez-- - -“Wall, I d’no as I’m a-goin’ to make much of a effort to see their -hants.” Sez he, “Probble they got that name, Lake Poet, because their -poetry hain’t no bigger accordin’ than the lakes be, and if that is so, -I don’t want to patronize ’em.” - -“Patronize!” sez I, lookin’ several icy cold daggers through him. “I -have to stand Martin’s demeanors and acts, though they are harrowin’ to -my soul and sickenin’ to the stumick, but I _won’t_ stand by and have -my own pardner talk about patronizin’ Coleridge and Wordsworth.” Sez I, -“Talk about patronizin’ the man that wrote ‘The Ancient Mariner.’” - -[Illustration: My tone chilled him to the veins.] - -My tone chilled him to the veins, and he walked off some distance away. -And my mind roamed on that weird and matchless poem I had heard Thomas -J. read so much, that I wuz as familiar with as I wuz with the Almanac. - -How the Ancient Mariner-- - - “Held the wedding guests with his glittering eye.” - -And how that belated guest “beat his breast” as he heard the weddin’ -guests pass in, and he havin’ to set out on a stun by the side of the -road, and _had_ to hear this “gray beard loon” tell his story. For the -old Mariner knew the one he had to tell it to when the fit come on, and -so that weddin’ guest had to set and hear that most weird and wonderful -story ever told. - -And at last, jest as he released that poor, tuckered-out guest (when -the weddin’ wuz all over, poor dissapinted creeter!), how he ended with -these lines, so noble they must have mollified that poor, belated -creeter-- - - “He prayeth best, who loveth best - All things, both great and small, - For the dear God, who loveth us, - He made and loveth all.” - -And then there is the poem of Christabel, another one of my very -primest favorites. How many times the truth of some of them lines have -been brung up to me in my own native land of Jonesville! - - “Alas! they had been friends in youth, - But whispering tongues can poison truth.” - -Alas! for the whisperin’ tongues that carry the poison of asps with -them. Alas! for the hearts and lives that through their malice and -whisperin’s are torn apart, and nothin’ can atone for their evil -effects--nothin’, _nothin’_ - - “Can free the hollow hearts from paining, - They stand aloof, the stars remaining. - Like cliffs that have been rent asunder, - A dreary sea now flows between.” - -Yes; my mind jest dwelt on Mr. Coleridge all the time while I wuz in -the Lake Deestrict. But we see while we wuz there lots of other places -of great interest to me. Though, as I sed, the Falls of Lodore didn’t -fall quite so much as he had depictered ’em, yet Rydal Falls wuz a seen -of beauty and enchantment, with the water flowin’ down through the -rocks and overhangin’ trees. It wuz a picter to always remember, to -frame round with admiration and hang up in your memory. - -And then there wuz a promontory called Storr’s Point, which had a -observatory built on it. Here wuz where Sir Walter Scott, Wordsworth, -Southey, and Conway met in 1825 to see a regatta gin in Scott’s honor. - -It must have been a pretty sight, the scenery around it wuz so -beautiful. - -And then we see Miss Martineau’s handsome residence, called the Knolls. -I spoze on account of its being built on quite a rise of ground. - -I spoze she wuz quite a likely poetess, and wrote most probble twenty -books on every subject, from religion and politics to mesmerism and -handicraft. But Thomas Jefferson couldn’t never git over sunthin’ she -said to Charlotte Brontë in a kind of a fault-findin’ way; it jest -gaulded Charlotte dretfully. Poor little creeter! with the mind of a -giant and the body of a child--a glowin’ soul of fire and the shrinkin’ -weakness and tenderness of heart of a young child. - -Harriet hadn’t ort to said it--she ort to known that God don’t send a -genius any too often onto this dull earth, and folks ort to prize ’em -and guard ’em when He duz; but folks don’t; they pick at ’em, and they -have to stan’ it, and build up a stun wall of endurance and constant -anguish of patience between these tormentors and their own souls and -sensitive feelin’s. And then set behind that barricade and try to -write. And folks only see the stun work, and don’t see what it wuz -raised for, and they call ’em cold, and cross, and unfeelin’, and etc., -etc., etc. - -But they hain’t cold, nor etc., etc., etc.--no sech thing. - -But I am a-eppisodin’, and to resoom. - -I presoom that one thing that made Harriet sour and kinder hard -sometimes wuz she wuz so deef; not a-knowin’ any of the time what other -wimmen wuz a-sayin’ about her--behind her back, or to her face either; -it’s enough to sour any disposition, only the very sweetest ones. - -Wall, we went to Hawkeshead, where Wordsworth went to school, Martin -sayin’ he should probble be asked if he had seen the old school-house. - -It wuz a old schoolhouse a hundred years ago, when Wordsworth went to -school there. - -It is a little, old-fashioned place, and Martin put his fingers in his -vest pockets, and leaned back, and looked round him some as if he wuz -a-patronizin’ them old memories with which the place wuz filled. - -Good land! he’d no need to; them memories towered up and filled the -hull place, and floated off round it into the serene, beautiful English -landscape, and up towards the blue heavens above. - -[Illustration: Martin with his patronizin’ ways.] - -Martin couldn’t quell ’em down with his leanin’s back, and thumbs in -his armholes, and patronizin’ ways. - -I sot down to the poor, shabby old bench to which he had sot, and -see the very spot where the boy Billy had cut his name in the rough -old desk. Mebby he got licked for it--I shouldn’t wonder a mite. The -teacher not knowin’ that though he might be slapped in youth, and -laughed at by Reviewers in early manhood, yet a great man--a man of -simple manners, and a soul of genius sot there at that desk, jest as -the great oak wuz hid in the heart of the acorn in Billy’s pocket, -mebby, at the time. - -I had quite a large number of emotions as I sot there--probble upwards -of seventy-five. - -Wall, of course we went to Rydal Mount, the home where he lived and -worked, and to Grass-mere, where he lays asleep with his kindred. - -The south wind waved the branches of the trees that stood jest a little -ways from the simple slabs. - -Not fur off wuz the grave of Hartley Coleridge, son of Wordsworth’s -friend--a son who inherited all the splendor and weakness of his -father’s nater. - -He drinked! - -But some of his sonnets are upliftin’ in the extreme. - -“Poor creeter! what he could have been if he had left stimulants -alone,” I sez to my pardner, as we looked down on his quiet grave. - -And he sez, “There you be agin--meetin’-housen and castles can’t stop -you, nor buryin’-grounds skair you out; I’m sick of your dum W. C. T. -U. talk!” - -I felt too riz up to argy with him, but I felt deeply the truth of -what whiskey had done in his case. And as to his pa, I said to myself, -“Weakness of will, and opium, mebby, stood in the way of the world’s -seein’ another Shakespeare--not _jest_ like him, but a new and uneek -type of poet; jest as great and dazzlin’, but different as one big star -differs from another--all on ’em a-flashin’ out light onto a dark, dull -world. - -Alice felt deeply the sweet sadness of the spot--the quiet beauty of -the landscape round us, the bird’s song in the green branches overhead, -and the low, sweet song of the little stream, the south wind amongst -the trees. - -She stood under a tree lookin’ up through it into the sky overhead, -followin’ the flight of a bird. Her face looked so sweet--so sweet that -I thought if Wordsworth was here he would be reminded of his own lines, -and think that-- - - “Beauty born of murmuring sound - Had passed into her face.” - -Her face had a good look to it, too, that made me think that she wuz -a-goin’ to make-- - - “A perfect woman, nobly planned, - To warn, to comfort and command, - And yet a spirit still and bright, - With something of an angel’s light.” - -Al Faizi felt this, I see--I could see that by his face. But _I_ knew, -havin’ seen her tired out and kinder fraxious when her shoes hurt her -feet or a hairpin pierced her, or her cosset pinched her, etc., I knew -she wuz a creeter-- - - “Not too bright or good - For human nature’s daily food, - For transient sorrows, simple wiles, - Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.” - -But he see her only as a “lovely apparition,” a “phantom of delight.” - -I felt that as he stood there in that rapt moment he see all the beauty -of nater through her--he see rock and plain, earth and Heaven, glade -and bower. I methought he wuz sayin’ to himself as he looked at her-- - - “The floating clouds their state shall lend - To her; for her the willow bend; - Nor shall she fail to see, - Even in the motions of the storm, - Grace that shall mould the maiden’s form - By silent sympathy. - - “The stars of midnight shall be dear - To her; and she shall lean her ear - In many a secret place, - When rivulets dance their wayward round, - And beauty, born of murmuring sound, - Shall pass into her face.” - -[Illustration: A livin’ poem bound up in a girl’s sweet body.] - -And I felt, too, in view of what I knew, that all that would be left -of Al Faizi in the futer would be the memory of what had been and never -more would be. Yes, all took up as he wuz with the poets of the western -world, he wuz more heart interested in the livin’ poem bound up in a -girl’s sweet body. And he turned away from the hants of poets to look -in her sweet face. - -Poor creeter! I see what he didn’t spoze I did, and all the rest wuz -deef and dum--deef as posts and dum as adders. - -But I am a-eppisodin’ and to resoom. - -We sot out for London the next day. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE ARRIVAL IN LONDON. - - -Martin, who owned, or pretty nigh owned, several railroads, wuz dretful -talkative about the superior merits of our cars, etc. And, to tell the -truth, these English cars did seem quite a good deal like ridin’ in -a wagon, or a old-fashioned coach, where you set facin’ each other, -and they wuz pretty low, made so as to not bump our heads when goin’ -through covered bridges, I guess. - -Of course, Martin paid for the best there wuz, and we had a hull car to -ourselves, all cushioned and fixed off in the nicest manner, and after -we all got in we felt very comfortable all alone by ourselves if we’d -wanted to. And ever and anon a basket of good refreshments to refresh -ourselves would be handed in to us. But it filled me with horrow to -see bottles of beer, wine, etc., in every one of ’em, and I sez to -myself--“Who and what did they spoze I wuz?” - -I wuz indignant to think that they should dast to offer she that wuz -once Samantha Smith bottles of intoxicants. - -Josiah kinder hefted the bottle in our basket, and said dreamily -sunthin’ about when you wuz in Rome of doin’ as the Romans did. But I -sez to him coldly-- - -“Be you a deacon or be you not? Are you a member of the Temperance -Society in Jonesville, or are you not?” - -And he kinder wriggled round oneasy in his seat and laid the bottle -down. If it hadn’t been for me, I tremble to think what would have been -the result to Jonesville and the world at large. - -Ever and anon the guide would walk along sideways by our winder and go -the hull length of the train, for all I know a-seein’ to us. I don’t -see what hendered him from fallin’ off. It wuz sunthin’ I wouldn’t have -done for a dollar bill. I never wuz any hand to walk sideways, even on -the ground. - -But, howsumever, there wuzn’t any casualties reported. - -Another thing that did seem strange to us wuz that we didn’t have any -checks for our baggage to take care on. That seems dretful queer to -Americans to have to go out and hunt round and find our own trunks. -Though we had no trouble with ourn, for it wuz a very valuable one, and -easy to be recognized with the naked eye. It wuz a trunk that belonged -to Father Allen, and made on honor, and it lasted him through his life, -and then descended onto Josiah--and will, we think, descend, as good -as new, onto Thomas Jefferson. - -One reason it has wore so well is, I spoze, that Father Allen never -took but one trip in his life with it, and that wuz up to Canada. That -journey lasted him for a story all his days; he wuz looked upon with -considerable or as a highly travelled man. - -The trunk is covered with hair of a good gray color and trimmed off -handsome with brass nails. And Josiah, to make sure of its not bein’ -stole, writ our names in bright, brass-headed tacks. It took him quite -a spell. He sed he believed in doin’ the fair thing by me, so it reads-- - -“Josiah and Samantha Allen. -Jonesville, -U. S.” - -[Illustration: Them letters wuz a stroke of genius.] - -Them last letters he sed wuz a stroke of genius. He sed the English -people would be so tickled when they see it, for they would see in -a minute that he and me had really come over! We wuz there! “us!” -Samantha and Josiah! and then, too, it would stand for the United -States. - -He made them two letters of a little bigger nails, but they wuz all -good sized, and a very bright brass color. - -And truly it did seem as if England wuz glad to have us there, for I -don’t remember of seein’ a single Englishman that looked at that trunk -that didn’t laugh when he see it, or smile warmly. Yes, they wuz glad -enough to have us there. - -Martin didn’t see the trunk until we arrove at the steamer, and it -affected him different. He looked fairly stunted and browbeat when he -sot his eyes on it; evidently he thought it wuz a pity to run the resk -of jammin’ it, or gittin’ the nails rusty, for sez he: - -“Good Heavens! let me get you a new trunk! It isn’t too late!” And he -rushed off like a man half distracted. - -But it wuz too late, for the bell rung in a minute, and we sot sail. - -But Martin never see it durin’ that hull trip but he looked on it with -that same look of or--a kind of a dark, questionin’ or. - -Alice jest laughed when she see it. She liked its looks, we could see, -though she didn’t come right out and say so. - -But Adrian sed it wuz the most beautiful thing he ever saw in his life. -And he beset Josiah to put his name on one of their trunks with the -same kind of nails. - -And Josiah, who had took a few along to repair damages in ourn, in case -we should lose some of the nails, or some envious Englishman should -steal ’em out, stood ready to do it. - -But Martin broke it up. I guess he thought that Adrian wuz too young -to go into sech extravagances. They had four trunks between ’em, but -not so much luggage as the English carry round with ’em. They beat all, -baskets, bundles, portmantys--as they call their trunks--and hat-boxes -and rugs and bath-tubs. - -The idee! What would we be thought on in America if we lugged round -sech things. Josiah, who always hankers after style, sed he was most -sorry we didn’t take our enamelled wash-dish. Sez he, “It would have -looked dretful genteel;” sez he, “We could have lashed it to our trunk -with some red cord, and it would have looked so stylish.” - -“Oh, shaw!” sez I. - -“Wall,” sez he, “when you’re in Rome, do as the Romans do, and,” sez -he, “I’d love to let the English that carry round their bath-tubs see -that ‘U. S.,’ the ones that own that trunk, know what gentility is and -what style is.” - -But I wouldn’t gin in to the idee, though he as good as sed that he -stood ready to buy a new wash-dish for the venter. - -But economy prevailed, not common sense, but jest closeness. I see in -his mean that he wuz givin’ up the idee, as I told him that with the -care I would give it the wash-dish we had would last for years and -years. - -Wall, we got to London in what ort to be the daytime, but it wuz as -dark as pitch with fog, and how we wuz ever goin’ to git through them -streets, full of blackness and roar, roar and blackness, wuz more’n I -could tell. - -I leaned back in that omnibus time and agin durin’ that trip, truly -feelin’ that my hour had come. - -As Josiah told me afterwards, in talkin’ it over--I wuz a-dwellin’ on -my feelin’s durin’ the epock, and he wanted to outdo me, I guess, and -sez he-- - -“I know jest how you felt, Samantha; I too felt, in the words of -another, as if ‘every breath I drawed would be my next.’” - -Sez I, “You meant your last.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “my last; it wuz a dretful time.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “I put my trust in Providence--a good deal of the time I -did.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “so did I. I wuz jest ground down to it that I had to.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “less be thankful that we got out alive--out of that -black, movin’, rumblin’ roar.” - -We wuz talkin’ it over in our room that night, a good, comfortable -room, with all the modern improvements. It wuz a hotel for Americans -that Martin had gone to, and it wuz jest like the best of our American -tarverns. - -Josiah sez, when he see the bright lights in our room, “Thank Heaven, I -won’t have to use my candles!” - -He had hearn that folks had to furnish their own lights in England, so -he’d lugged round a couple of taller candles, run in our own candle -moulds to home. - -[Illustration: A hull soap-box full.] - -I told him not to, but he sed he wuzn’t goin’ to pay no high price for -lights when we had a hull soap-box full under the suller stairs. So he -had took ’em at the resk of spilin’ his dressin’-gown, as I told him. - -“No, I don’t resk that,” sez he; “that is to the top of the trunk. The -candles are packed down with my Sunday suit to the bottom of the trunk.” - -I changed their position. - -But his feelin’s for that dressin’-gown are simply idolatrous, as I -tell him--specially the tossels. - -And he said he “never thought of makin’ idols of ’em--worshippin’ a -tossel!” sez he, scorfin’ly. But he duz think too much on’t. - -Wall, the next mornin’ the fog seemed to be lowered a little. I could -see the sun, or pretty nigh see it, which I felt wuz indeed a blessin’; -and after a good breakfast we sot off on a excursion. - -I had sed from the first minute London wuz talked on, that Westminster -Abbey wuz my first gole, and the rest seemed to feel a good deal as I -did. Al Faizi and Alice wuz dretful anxious to see it, and Martin sed-- - -He thought it wuz probble what would be expected of him, and if he wuz -summoned home on account of his business, he said he _must_ be able to -say that he had been to Westminster Abbey, anyway. - -So he engaged a big carriage, and we sot off, Josiah kinder laggin’ -back and actin’ onwillin’. He had found a New York _World_ in the -readin’-room for the first time sence he left home, and he sed openly-- - -That he had ruther stay to home with his dressin’-gown on and read that -paper than to see any Abbey that ever wuz born. - -He thought it wuz some noted woman, and I wuz deeply touched by his -preference, and cast-iron principle; but I explained, and would make -him go. So we sot off. - -Wall, the first view I got of that imposin’ edifice looked jest as -nateral as could be; for Thomas J. has got a big photograph of it -framed in his office, with the two great, high towers, 225 feet high, -and the big Gothic winder between ’em, and the great Gothic door below. -The buildin’ is a immense one; it is built in the form of a cross, and -is more’n five hundred feet long. - -I can tell you, I had a sight--a sight of emotions, and about as large -sized ones as I ever had, as I stood inside, under them lofty arches, -full of the mellow light of the stained-glass winders, and looked off -down, down that long colonnade of pillows, at the end of which, fur -off, is the chapel of Edward the Confessor. - -This chapel is full of the tombs of kings and queens--Henry III., in -brass, lyin’ on top of a huge porphery tomb; Edward I. and his queen, -Eleanor, who sucked the poison from her husband’s wound in Palestine; -and Queen Philippi, who put down a insurrection in Scotland, while her -pardner, Edward III., wuz away from home. - -Noble creeters! I wuz proud on ’em as I thought over their likely, -riz-up deeds. I couldn’t have done more for my Josiah, and I felt it as -I looked on ’em. - -Wall, I said that the very first place I wanted to see wuz the place -sacred to the Great Dead. So I went off kinder by myself, as I spozed, -led by a guide, but the rest follered on after me. - -Martin said that if a telegram should recall him home sudden, he spozed -it would be expected of him, anyway, to say that he had stood by the -monuments to Shakespeare, Dickens, Thackeray, etc., in Westminster -Abbey. Sez he, “I have never read the poems of the last two gentlemen, -but I hear that they are very creditable; so much so, that I have heard -their names mentioned often, and I would like to say that I have stood -by their remains.” - -I didn’t say nothin’ to Martin, but the feelin’s as I stood right by -the side of that man made a deep gulf that swep’ him fur off away from -me, and swep’ me back into a life that seemed more real, almost, than -my own. - -Little fingers plucked at my gown, as it were, and, lookin’ down, I -see the brave, patient face of Little Nell, and Tiny Tim, and David -Copperfield, and the old-fashioned looks of little Paul Dombey, and -Little Rowdey, Becky Sharp’s neglected boy; and little Clive Newcome’s -sturdy figger wuz pushed away anon by the tall, slender figger that -walked by his cousin Ethel Newcome’s side with a achin’ heart. I -seemed to hear the Old Colonel saying “adsum” to the Heavenly roll-call. - -Mrs. Gummidge’s melancholy voice, recallin’ the “old un’,” mingled with -Peggotty’s comfortin’ talk and tender words to “Little Em’ly;” Mrs. -Micawber, bearin’ the twins, passed on before me; Micawber, Dombey, -Pecksniff, Little Dorrit’s patient form, Bella Wilfer’s handsome, -wilful face went by me, a-lookin’ up, coquettish, but lovin’, into the -sad, reasonable eyes of “Our Mutual Friend.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -WESTMINSTER AND PARLIAMENT HOUSES. - - -I see Captain Cuttle and Bunsby fleein’ from Mrs. McStinger, and Wall’r -Boy and his uncle, and Susan Nipper and Toots, and Mrs. Pipchin, and -sweet Florence a-walkin’ by the Little Brother where the wild waves -were talkin’ to him and the silver sails a-beckonin’ him over into a -fur country--David Copperfield; Dora, the child wife; Agnes Wickfield, -with her finger on her lips, and a-pintin’ upwards; dear Aunt Betsy -Trotwood, and Oliver and Nicholas Nickleby; Mrs. Jellaby, with her -dress onhooked and droppin’ papers with absent eyes, and Esther and -Guardy, and Skimpole and the little Pardiggles-- - -How the crowd swep’ by me! It wuz a sight. - -Ophelia passed by with her apron full of flowers, and she said to me, -with a sad look out of her sweet dark eyes-- - -“Here is rosemary, I pray you, love, remember.” - -Truly, I didn’t need her reminder--my soul wuz all rousted up and -a-rememberin’. - -I remembered the young feller she kep’ company with--yes, indeed! -Hamlet, “the expectancy and rose of the fair state.” His shadder -follered her clost, and I almost said to him with Horatio, “Good-night, -sweet prince.” - -But he looked kinder curous--he wuz a little off and acted, and, poor -creeter! so wuz she, too; I felt to pity ’em both, and anon she seemed -to be singin’ the song that Hamlet ust to sing to her when he wuz -a-waitin’ on her: - - “Doubt that the stars are fire, - Doubt that the sun doth move; - Believe that truth is a liar, - But never doubt that I love.” - -She believed still in his constancy. She wuz a good deal out of her -head. - -Then Rosalind and Queen Catharine’s stately figger glided by; and -eloquent Portia and Lady Macbeth a-holdin’ up her lamp, a-lightin’ her -on to crime--the light a-shinin’ back into her dark, evil face-- - -And old King Lear, with faithful Cordelia a-holdin’ his tremblin’ old -arms, and a-helpin’ him along. - -Then, feelin’ pensive--Il Penseroso, I seemed to see John Milton’s -blind eyes lookin’ into Paradise, and the Fairy Queen seemed to look -down on us from the tablet of Spenser, and “Rare Ben Jonson,” Chaucer, -John Dryden, Thomas Gray-- - -I wuz a-walkin’ back with him in the old church-yard--“Where the rude -forefathers of the hamlet sleep”-- - -When Martin interrupted me, and sez he--“Gray, Thomas Gray, I suppose -that is the father of Lady Jane Gray.” - -I didn’t dispute him, but as I looked at him a-leanin’ back and -a-feelin’ big, I allegored to myself-- - -“We don’t need to remember Micawber or Dombey; we’ve got a livin’ -curosity with us.” - -Al Faizi wuz deeply interested in the Poet’s Corner. He stood long -and silently by the graves of the great dead, and his face wuz a deep -mirror of his thoughts. - -[Illustration: We stood long and silently by the graves of the great -dead.] - -Alice wuz very much interested in ’em, too. - -But as I stood by Goldsmith’s grave--a-seein’, with my mind’s eye, Mrs. -Primrose and Olivia and the good Vicar a-moralizin’ at em-- - -I hearn Josiah say to Adrian-- - -“Oliver, goldsmith.” Sez he--“I spoze Mr. Oliver wuz the best goldsmith -in England, or he wouldn’t be layin’ here. He probble made the crowns -and septers they all have to wear in these monarkiel countries.” - -I turned round, and sez I, “The metal that Goldsmith used wuz purer -gold than that--it wuz the rare wealth of a faultless style.” - -“That’s what I said,” sez Josiah--“stylish jewelry, and septers, and -sech.” - -But I explained it all out to Adrian, and kep’ him by me all I could. - -Alice drawed my attention to the bust of Longfellow, our own poet, and -my emotions swep’ me off quite a long ways, clear from this old Abbey -to-- - - “Where descends from the Atlantic - The gigantic - Storm winds of the equinox.” - -Yes, he seemed to bear me clear to the musical murmurs of Minnehaha, -Laughing Water, and from Acadia to Spain. I travelled fur and wide. - -And then there wuz the tomb of Thomas Campbell and Matthew Prior and -James Watt and Mrs. Siddons. Not all in one place are these tablets and -busts and monuments, but my mind seems to kinder gather ’em in together -as I look back. - -The most elegant chapel in the Abbey is that of Henry VII. Its noble -arched ceilin’ is exquisitely ornamented and carved--flowers, vines, -armorial designs, etc., etc., in almost bewilderin’ richness and -profusion. Henry and his wife Elizabeth the last to rain of the House -of York. - -In this chapel is also the tomb of poor Mary, Queen of Scots, with her -figger in alabaster on top of it. - -If it wuzn’t in alabaster--if she wuz alive, and if the kings and -queens wuz also alive and actin’--what a time there would be in that -old Abbey! - -If that exquisite body had agin that rare gift of magnetism--or, I d’no -what it wuz, anyway, it wuz sunthin’ that drawed men to her despite -their own will, and, it is needless to say, aginst their pardners’ -wishes--what a time, what a time there would be! - -How the emperors and kings and princes that now stood so still and -demute would gather round her! How the wives would draw back and glare! -And mebby some on ’em, bein’ quick-tempered, would throw their septers -at her. - -Poor creeter! mebby it’s jest as well that she is made of alabaster; -for not fur from her is the tomb of Queen Elizabeth, a-layin’ down -guarded by four lions. - -She’d a-needed ’em, Lib would, if she’d a-expected to keep her lovers -from a-follerin’ after Mary. She wuz a jealous creeter, and vain, -although a middlin’ good calculator. - -But Raleigh, and Leicester, etc., etc.--lions couldn’t a-kep’ ’em from -the prettiest woman--no, indeed! - -In the same vault is Bloody Mary, who burnt up about seventy folks a -year durin’ her rain. - -Al Faizi took out his little book with a cross on’t, and wrote quite a -lot here, and he also did before Mary, Queen of Scots. I d’no, mebby -he, too, bein’ a man, felt some of the subtle charm that surrounds her -memory, even to-day, and keeps men from ever doin’ plain jestice to -her, and always will, I spoze. - -Not fur off is the restin’-place of the little princes murdered in the -Tower by Richard III. - -Al Faizi writ sunthin’ here, too, in his book--quite a lot. - -There are nine chapels in the Abbey, each one full of the tombs of ’em -whom the world has delighted to honor; and the guide told us that many -a king and prince lay here who had not any memorial to mark his last -sleep. - -One of these wuz the “Merry Monarch,” Charles II. Among the great crowd -who surrounded him, like a swarm of hungry insects, feedin’ upon him, -and buzzin’ out their praise and compliments and loyalty to him, and -flatterin’ his vices and weaknesses, not one of ’em thought enough of -him to rare up the least little mark to his memory-- - -A deep lesson of the worthlessness of worldly praise or blame. A great -contrast to this is the monument to Charles and John Wesley. They -worked on all their lives, a-preachin’ and a-warnin’ aginst the vices -of the great, as well as the humble, and here they have their monument -amongst the royal dead. - -Another thing that interested me in the Abbey wuz the Coronation Chair, -in which every sovereign in England, from Edward the Confessor down to -Queen Victoria, has been crowned. - -[Illustration: An immense chair, the four legs bein’ four animals.] - -It is a immense chair, the four legs bein’ four animals--lions, I -guess, though they looked kinder queer. But mebby they wuz a-thinkin’ -who and what they wuz a-holdin’ up that made their hair stan’ out so -kinder queer, and their tails curl up so. - -Under the seat wuz a queer-lookin’ slab of stun, and they said it wuz -the very stun Jacob had his head pillered on. It wuz carried back and -forth by his descendants, and finally got to Ireland, where it wuz used -at the Coronation of the Irish Kings. - -Some say that if the one who wuz a-bein’ crowned wuz unworthy royal -honors, the stun would groan, but kep’ still if it wuz the right one in -the right place. - -I should have thought it would have done considerable groanin’ in the -centuries gone by--in the case of Henry VIII., for instance, etc., etc. - -I don’t believe it groaned the last time it wuz used. No; as a female -a-thinkin’ of a female, I wuz proud to contemplate the fact that most -probble it never gin a single groan, or even a sithe, at that time. - -Some say that wimmen can’t rule good, but hain’t Victoria rained well -and rained long? - -Yes, indeed! - -Wall, we lingered in this venerable and intensely interestin’ place -for a long time, and until the gnawin’s of hunger woke in my pardner’s -inside, and he gin pitiful expressions of his inward oneasiness. - -But Martin sed he must visit the Housen of Parliament. He sed that it -would certainly be expected of him; so we went through Westminster Hall -to the new Palace of Westminster, as the buildin’ is called. - -The laws made here ort to be noble and big-sized, indeed, to correspond -with the place they are made in. It covers eight acres of ground, has -eleven hundred rooms, one hundred stairways, and eleven courts. It cost -over fifteen millions, so they say. - -But I d’no, I didn’t feel ashamed of our own Capitol at Washington when -I see it. That is a good sizable buildin’, and made on honor, good -enough and big enough to correspond with the laws made in it. - -Yes, indeed! - -Wall, Westminster Hall, that we went through to go to the House of -Parliament, wuz dretful interestin’. - -The great Hall of William Rufus wuz built first in 1097. Rufus wanted -a great Hall, where he could hold banquets, and not feel crowded, and -feel that he had air enough, and wuzn’t in any danger of hittin’ his -head on the ceilin’, so he built this Hall. - -It wuz partly burnt up once, but it has been repaired, so that it is -a room now good enough for anybody, and big enough so’s the World and -his wife and children could eat dinner here if they wanted to, or so it -seemed. - -It is three hundred feet long, seventy feet wide, and ninety feet high. -The ruff overhead is carved into many beautiful forms, and is one of -the largest in the world that has no columns or supports from below. - -Glorious seens have been enacted in this Hall, as well as dretful -ones. After the Hall wuz built over and beautified by Richard II., the -very first public meetin’ held in this Hall wuz to take away his crown -and septer and send him to prison. - -Poor thing! after all he’d went through buildin’ it. I should thought -them old timbers and jices would have creaked and groaned to have seen -it go on. - -I know well how I should have felt after we got our house altered over, -and I’d jest got the parlor papered and carpeted and new curtains up, -if I’d had to be dragged off and shet up, and let Sister Bobbett or -Sister Henzy move in and take the comfort of it. - -And I spoze Richard had feelin’s as well as myself, and the splendor -of my parlor would mad me all the more to leave it, even if it shed a -glory over the seen. - -Charles I. wuz tried in Westminster Hall and condemned to death, and a -few years later Oliver Cromwell was inaugerated in it Lord Protector of -England. - -He sot in that Royal Chair, which wuz took out of Westminster Abbey for -the first and last time. The chair never groaned or took on any as I’ve -ever hearn on, but I should have thought it would, not for reproof, -but for sorrer. For only five years after that Cromwell died, and wuz -buried in Westminster Abbey amongst its royal dead, and then three -years later his body wuz took up and hanged on Tyburn by command of the -king, and his head wuz displayed on the pinnacles of Westminster Hall -with Bradshaw and Ireton. - -Hangin’ a man who had been dead for three years, and for doin’ what he -thought wuz right! - -Al Faizi wrote quite a lot in his book here. He looked queer as he -meditated on a civilized country committin’ sech barbarities. - -They laid out to have the skulls remain up there on them pinnacles for -thirty years, and some say they did, and some say Cromwell’s blew down -durin’ a hard storm, and some of his descendants have got it to this -day, and several of his skulls are in other places, so we hearn. - -Poor creeter! He seemed to have as many heads as Columbus had faces. It -beats all what them poor old fourfathers went through. - -In this Hall Charles I. wuz condemned to die, and also Sir William -Wallace, that Josiah and I felt so well acquainted with, havin’ formed -his acquaintance and loved him through Thomas Jefferson and “The -Scottish Chiefs.” - -And Sir Thomas More, that witty, smart creeter--philosopher, statesman, -and everything else--the favorite of Henry VIII., and who succeeded -Cardinal Wolsey as Lord High Chancellor, but who lost Henry’s favor -in his life, by not approvin’ of Henry’s stiddy practice of marryin’ -wimmen and then cuttin’ their heads off, and marryin’ another and -another, and so on and so on. Here the poor creeter had his trial. - -Robert, Earl of Essex, wuz tried here and condemned; and so wuz Guy -Fawkes, and the Earl of Stafford, and many, many, many others. - -Wall, in the House of Parliament we see Parnell, the great helper for -Irish rights. And it did my soul good to look on Joseph Arch, who wuz -elected to Parliament as a representative of agricultural laborers. - -He wuz a plough-boy, and his mother learnt him to read and write. -She wuz a earnest Christian. Later he become a local preacher in the -Methodist Meetin’-House. Afterwards, meditatin’ on their wrongs, he -organized a union of agricultural laborers, and finally wuz elected -to Parliament. He wuz sent from that deestrict where the Prince of -Wales lives. And you would have thought that some richer and more -aristocratic man would have been chose to stand for that place, so nigh -to the British throne. - -But no, a good man, a man of the people, wuz chose. The Prince of -Wales never done a thing to break it up, so they say. He is quite a -sensible, good-hearted creeter, the Prince is. Though, like the rest of -the world, he has his failin’s. - -Here we see Gladstone, that noble creeter. A man that will be revered -and beloved and held dear to grateful hearts when lots of contemporary -emperors and kings are forgot. - -Yes, indeed! - -The House of Lords is made up of lords temporal and lords -spiritual--twenty-six lords spiritual, which are the Archbishops of -Canterbury and York, and twenty-four Bishops, Dukes, Earls, Barons, -etc., make up the lords temporal--they come into their places by the -right of their titles, which fell onto ’em onbeknown to ’em. Here they -set makin’ laws with their hats on. - -Josiah drawed my attention to it, and sez he, “You’ve always tutored -me so about takin’ off my hat everywhere and in every season. I’ve had -sun-strokes and froze my scalp a number of times in carryin’ out your -orders; but,” sez he, “I’ve made up my mind, Samantha, as to one thing, -and you can’t change me.” - -I have a deadly fear of his plans, and can’t help it--in fact, I have -reason to, as dire experience has often showed me the dretful results -flowin’ from ’em anon or oftener; so I waited with breathless dread to -hear him expound his plan. - -Sez he, “I’m bound on it. When I’m elected to Congress I’m goin’ to -wear my hat the hull time I’m there; I hain’t a-goin’ to take it off -only to go to bed; I calculate to have a good warm head the rest of my -life.” Sez he, “If it’s proper for ’em, in their high station, it’s -proper for me, when I git there.” - -[Illustration: “When I’m elected to Congress I’m goin’ to wear my hat -the hull time.”] - -I thought a minute, and then sez I, “Wall, I guess I’m safe in not -objectin’ to it.” - -Sez he, “You mean by that, that I won’t git there, but you’ll see, -mom. The minute I git home I’m a-goin’ to organize the farmers. I’ll -organize Ury the first one, and then I’ll organize old Gowdey. Uncle -Sime Bentley I can depend on.” Sez he, “If Arch and Burt and Macdonald, -all on ’em workin’ men, can git into Parliament, what is to hender -Josiah Allen from shinin’ in Congress?” - -Sez I mildly, “Nater broke _that_ up from the start.” - -Sez he, “Do you mean that I can’t git in?” - -Sez I, still more tenderly, “I alluded to shinin’, Josiah; but,” sez -I soothin’ly, for I see that his liniment begun to darken--sez I, “I -won’t say a word agin your wearin’ your hat under them circumstances.” -Sez I in affectionate axents, “Mebby I’ve been too harsh with you -about takin’ it off in cold weather; mebby I hain’t made allowance as I -should for the weakness of the place exposed; mebby etiket has ruled me -too clost.” - -Sez he, “You and etiket has been almost the death of me time and agin.” - -One thing that is sure to strike the tourist and beholder with wonder -is the extreme smallness of the House of Commons. - -How five hundred and sixty folks could ever git into that room is a -wonder to me, and the guide told us that there had been as many as that -a-standin’ there time and agin--a-standin’, of course, for there wuzn’t -no room for ’em to set. - -It struck Josiah, too, though, as usual, our meditations wuz fur -different. - -I methought, “No wonder laws hain’t what they ort to be, made in sech a -tight place, by folks jest crowded and squoze in together like sardeens -in a box.” - -And Josiah methought out loud, “You thought, Samantha, that I didn’t -allow half room enough in my new hen-house, and my brood of fowls have -as much agin room accordin’ as these law-makers do.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “there both on ’em kep’ in too clost quarters to do -well.” - -But truly I couldn’t break it up, for time and Martin didn’t give me no -chance. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -SAMANTHA SEES A DOCTOR. - - -I hadn’t been in London for more’n a short time before I wuz attacked -with a queer feelin’ and pain in my back. It seemed to be the worst on -my right shoulder blade. It wuz a pain and a soreness all together, and -the surface indications pinted to more trouble if I didn’t tend to it. - -Josiah rubbed it with assiduity and camphire, and in hours of solitude -bathed it in anarky. - -But to no purpose--it grew worse and worse, and I feared it wuz a bile, -but didn’t know. - -It kep’ me awake nights, and I spoze it made me fraxious and restless, -for Josiah urged me warmly to have a young man, who wuz a doctor in the -hotel, look at my back and see what ailed it. - -And I sez, “I hain’t a-goin’ to have that young man foolin’ round my -shoulder blades.” Sez I, “It would make me feel queer as a dog to -think he wuz a-lookin’ at it through that eyeglass of hisen.” Sez I, -“Neuralgy hain’t to be fooled with.” - -“I thought you said,” sez he, “it wuzn’t neuralgy; you said it wuz -sunthin’ mysteriouser.” - -“Wall, so I do say,” sez I; “it is sunthin’ I d’no anything about. It -is sore as a bile, and anarky don’t seem to relieve it a mite. If I had -some good lobely and catnip,” sez I, “I believe I could make a poultice -that would relieve it; but where would I git lobely and catnip here?” -sez I. - -“Wall,” sez he--willin’ creeter always when I am sick--“Martin and I -had made a agreement to ride to Hyde Park this mornin’, and I shouldn’t -wonder a mite if I could find some lobely and catnip growin’ there -idegenus. I will look for some, anyway.” - -“Catnip in Hyde Park!” sez I mournfully; “you might as well look for a -angel at a dog fight, or a saloon in Paradise!” - -“Wall,” sez he, “if I can’t find any myself, I’ll ask the policeman -if he knows of any little corner or shady place where I’d be apt to -find a few sprigs for you.” Sez he, “I’d go to Windsor Park for you in -a minute if I thought I could git sunthin’ to relieve your pain--I’d -go to Langly Marish.” (Marish is marsh writ long.) Josiah thought -that he would spell his old marsh in the beaver medder “marish,” for -style--Jonesville Marish--but I told him that that wuzn’t goin’ to -make him any nearer the royal family, or make him act any more royal. I -guess I broke it up. - -But to resoom-- - -Sez I, “It is good of you to think on’t, but I wouldn’t want to tackle -Victoria the first thing for catnip. I d’no as she has put up any more -herbs than she wants to use herself--her family is big, and she has -frequent calls for catnip, anyway.” - -Sez he, “I wuzn’t a-layin’ out to tackle Victoria for it. I wuz a-goin’ -to hunt round myself for it in the park.” - -Sez I, “You’d only tire yourself out for nothin’; you wouldn’t find a -sprig. And if you found any, I wouldn’t want you to pick it without -Victoria’s consent--it would like as not be some she had saved for the -children or grandchildren; no,” sez I, “I will suffer and be calm,” and -I sithed. - -“Wall,” sez he, “I’m goin’ to be minded in this matter--I am goin’ to -have you see a doctor, and I hain’t a-goin’ to put it off another day. -You might put it off too long, and then what would the world be to me? -What would life be without Samantha?” - -His tender tones touched my heart considerable, and I promised I would -see a doctor that very day; so he went away, quite contented, with -Martin. - -[Illustration: That little dude doctor, with his cane and his eyeglass.] - -Wall, after he had went away, and I wuz left alone with my promise, -I rumineated in deep thought. And the more I thought on’t, the more I -hated to have that little dude doctor, with his cane and his eyeglass, -a-reconoiterin’ round my back and a-laughin’ at me, for all I knew--for -I felt instinctively that he wuz one that would laugh at a person’s -back, and I felt that in this case I should be the means of lurin’ him -into that wickedness and deceit. - -He looked conceited and disagreeable in the extreme, anyway, and I -didn’t put any dependence at all on his jedgment. - -But then my promise confronted me; what should I do? But as I mused -I happened to think--besides this little dandy doctor, with his case -of medicine, a-goin’ to and fro, I had noticed a tall, dignified, -good-lookin’, middle-aged man a-goin’ up and down the halls with his -case of medicine. - -He usually went up the stairs as we wuz a-goin’ out--about 10 -A.M.--and, thinkses I, here is a chance to keep my promise, and mebby -git relief. For it stood to reason that I had ruther display my right -shoulder blade to a middle-aged, sober man, with a wife and children -and grandchildren, and other things to stiddy him down, than to a -little snickerin’, supercilious young chap, who hadn’t any wife, or -children, or any other trouble. - -So I left my door on a jar, and waited for his comin’. I got my dress -waist so’s I could slip it off in a minute, and throwed a breakfast -shawl gracefully round my figger, and waited calmly the result. - -Anon I heard a step approachin’, and I looked out, and I see that it -wuz the young doctor. He had a posey in his buttonhole and he wuz -a-hummin’ a light tune and a-swingin’ his cane in his right hand, and I -felt more and more relieved to think it wuz not my fate to tackle him. - -Anon a hall-boy went by slowly, a-bearin’ a pitcher of ice water; anon -a chambermaid, and then I recognized a messenger’s slow, haltin’ step. - -And then I see the doctor’s benine face, framed in gray hair and -ornamented with whiskers of the same color, approachin’. - -I folded my breakfast shawl closter around my form and advanced to the -door, and sez I-- - -“Can I speak to you for a moment, sir?” - -“Yes,” sez he. - -Sez I, “I would like to employ you for a few minutes.” - -“Yes,” sez he, a-enterin’ the room willin’ly, as if it wuz the way of -his business, as doctors always do. - -He looked round the room enquirin’ly as he entered, and as if mentally -in search of sunthin’. And I spozed mebby it wuz to see if he could see -signs of any other doctor’s medicine or sunthin’. And I spoke up, and -sez I: - -“I have had some trouble with my back lately, and I want you to look at -it and see what is the matter;” sez I, “I want to know whether it is -neuralgy or a bile.” - -[Illustration: “I have had some trouble with my back lately, and I want -you to look at it.”] - -He looked dretful surprised--I spozed he wuzn’t ust to havin’ a -complaint so queer and mysterious. - -And I rapidly made my preperations, and presented my left shoulder -blade for his consideration. - -And as I did so, I said anxiously-- - -“Is it a bile?” - -I dreaded his answer. Neuralgy I felt I could face, but a bile seemed -dretful if met by me on foreign shores, far from catnip and a quiet -home. - -Sez he, “I can’t tell what is the matter; if I were in your place I -would have a doctor.” - -Mekanically, and like sheet lightnin’, I seized the breakfast shawl and -drawed its voluminous folds about my figger and faced him. - -“Hain’t you a doctor?” sez I. - -“No,” sez he; “I am a piano tuner. I thought you wanted me to tune an -instrument,” sez he. - -I sunk into a chair and waved my hand towards the door. - -He bowed and vanished. - -And I, a not knowin’ whether to laugh or to cry, I did both at the -same time. I felt meachin’, and small, and provoked, and shamed, and -tickled, and mad, and everything. - -But anon I thought I must not let this _contrarytemps_ (French) -vanquish me. So I called on all the common sense I had, and all the -rectitude I had, and I had a real lot of it when I got holt of all of -it. - -For I realized that my motives wuz as pure as rain water in a new cedar -barrel, and so, bein’ dragged up to the tribunal of my own jedgment, I -could not find myself to blame; so I determined to keep calm and not -let the World or Josiah know what I had been through. - -For it wuz a hard blow onto both my jedgment and pride, lookin’ on -it with a nateral eye, and I felt that Josiah and the World would -be apt to look at it through nateral eyes, and not through the rapt -vision of jestice that made me say and say calmly that Josiah wuz the -one to blame; for if he hadn’t extracted a promise from me, this -_contrarytemps_ would not have occurred. - -These large-sized emotions lifted me up quite a good ways, and so I -spoze it made the next notch up come easier to me. For as I sot there I -moralized--I have been a-relyin’ on mortal ingregients to help me and -a-leanin’ on a pardner’s jedgment. - -Ingregients have failed, pardner’s jedgment has proved futile--futiler -it did seem to me than anything ever had before sence the world begun, -as futile as I have found ’em anon and oftener. - -So sez I to myself, “What if I should branch out and try the faith -cure--turn aside from doctors and pardners, reeds that have broke under -my weak grasp?” - -I will! I will! - -So I at once made my preperations for faith cure. I het some Pond’s -Extract in a little cup on the gas--I had brung a little contrivance -from home that fitted the burner. - -I het that extract as hot as I could bear it, and bathed that shoulder -blade in the soothin’ mixture; I then wet a cloth in anarky, and rubbed -it for a quarter of a hour by the clock; I then put on a strong poreus -plaster I had by me, made from healin’ herbs; and then I het some more -Pond’s Extract, and put in some tincture of wormwood--I had a little in -a bottle--and I wet a woollen cloth in it and laid it over the blade. -I then filled my hot-water bag with water and laid myself down on the -bed, with the warm, soothin’ rubber bag pressed clost to the achin’ -blade. - -And then, havin’ completed these simple preleminaries, I leaned on -the Faith Cure--I leaned heavy, and anon I felt that I had hit on the -right plan. The pain grew lighter and lighter, my thoughts of the -_contrarytemps_ grew more peaceful and as if I could bear it. I felt -that I could forgive Josiah, and then I knew nothin’ further for a long -time. - -[Illustration: Samantha’s Faith Cure.] - -Anon I seemed to be back in Jonesville; Philury and I wuz down in our -back paster a-pickin’ rossberrys. The sun shone down warm as I stooped -over the pink, laden boughs. - -The crick under the hill tinkled melogiously--somebody wuz tunin’ it, -I thought. It seemed to be playin’ melogious cords I had never hearn -before. A bird flew out of the deep, green depths of Balcom’s woods; it -flew up in front of me and lighted on my forward, and said-- - -“How do you feel, Samantha? Are you worse?” - -I had layed there for five hours by the clock, and it wuz my own -pardner’s hand on my forward that rousted me up. - -“No,” sez I, “Josiah; I am much better than I wuz.” - -“Did you git the doctor?” sez he. - -That wuz a tender subject to me, but I wuz able to meet it. I sez-- - -“I thought I would try the Faith Cure, Josiah, and,” sez I, “I truly -feel like a new creeter--the pain has almost all gone.” And it had, and -from that minute I gained on it fast. - -At bedtime I tried the Faith Cure agin, after goin’ through with the -same simple preleminaries I had went through, and the next mornin’ the -cure wuz almost complete, which made the trials that begun as soon as I -opened my eyes some easier to bear. - -I heard my pardner’s voice the first thing, out in the hall, through -the half open door. I hearn him a-sayin’-- - -“Dum it all, don’t you never have day here? Is it always night?” - -“It is day now,” sez the voice of a agitated chambermaid; “it is -between 8 and 9 o’clock.” - -“Pretty day!” sez Josiah. Sez he, “Look out of the winder and see if -you can see daylight; a pretty day this is--dark as a stack of black -cats, and darker, for you could see the cats if they wuz a inch from -your nose.” Sez he, “We have been here three days, and I hain’t seen -daylight yet.” - -He had a air of blamin’ the girl, and I interfered and called him in; -but the girl wuz waywised, and she said, “It is very unusual weather, -sir--very unusual. We have never had such a fog before.” - -They always say that, from Chicago and London to Egypt--they “never had -it before.” - -It always happens dretful onfortunate jest whilst you are there. - -Josiah wuz jest preparin’ to blame the girl agin, I dare presoom to -say, when I hearn another voice on the seen. - -It wuz the voice of a Englishman that Josiah had got some acquainted -with, and who had disputed warm with him about their two different -countries, each one on ’em a-praisin’ up his own native land to the -skies. - -And Josiah made a derisive remark to him right there in that untoward -place about his “dum climate.” - -I wuz mortified, but couldn’t walk out and interfere, not bein’ dressed. - -After passin’ a number of sentences back and forth, I hearn the -Englishman say-- - -“This is a great country, sir--the sun never sets on it.” - -And Josiah sez in a real mean axent-- - -“Good reason for that! the sun never rises on’t--it can’t go down where -it hain’t riz! I hain’t seen a ray of sunshine sence I come to England!” - -Thinkses I, “Dressed or ondressed, I’ve got to interfere,” and I -hollered out agin, “Josiah--Josiah Allen!” And he see in my axent a -need of haste. - -And he come into the room, and I sez-- - -“Don’t run down a man’s country on a empty stumick, when it is as dark -as pitch.” - -And he sez, “Then I can’t run it at all.” His axent wuz pitiful. - -And it wuz indeed a fearful time. - -The winder presented a black, murky appearance, the gas wuz lit in the -house and outside, and away from the light the streets wuz as dark as a -black broadcloth pocket in a blind man’s over-coat. - -We felt gloomy at the breakfast-table, but Martin sed we must be -gittin’ round some. So we concluded to go to St. Paul’s Cathedral. So -after awhile we ventered to sally out. We wuz about two hours a-goin’ a -distance that ort to took us about fifteen minutes--a-movin’ on through -the dense blackness, and not knowin’ what we wuz a-comin’ up aginst, -or who, or when, or what. - -It wuz a fearful time, very. - -We went in two handsomes (though their handsomeness didn’t do us any -good, for we couldn’t see a speck on’t). Josiah and I and Al Faizi went -in one, and Martin and Alice and Adrian in the other. A strange and -mysterious journey as I ever took, a-hearin’ anon or oftener a voice -up on top of our vehicle a-shoutin’ out replies to the frenzied cries -of cabmen on every side on him, and a not knowin’ who or what we wuz -a-goin’ to run into, or be run in by. And the faint glow of the street -lights a-shinin’ through the black mists like suns that wuz a-bein’ -darkened, as the Skripters tell on. - -It wuz a fearful seen; my Josiah wuz well-nigh prostrated by it, and -sez he-- - -“If I ever git where the sun shines in the daytime agin, I’ll stay -there.” - -“So will I!” sez I, and I felt it, Heaven knows! I wuz fearful agitated. - -Sez Josiah, as a loud, skairful cry from the top of our handsome wuz -answered from others all round us-- - -“Jest think on’t, Samantha, how bright and pleasant it is this minute -in our back yard to Jonesville; how plain you could see the side of the -barn; how the sun is a-shinin’ down on the smoke-house, and hen-park, -and leech barrel. - -“Why did we ever leave them seens!” sez he. - -“Why, indeed!” sez I. - -Sez he, “Ury is mebby at this minute goin’ in to the house, happy -creeter!” Sez he, “A-walkin’ out a-seein’ every step he takes; and -Philury a-standin’ in the back door a-watchin’ him, and a-lookin’ at -the Loontown hills milds off, and the Jonesville steeple. - -“And we a-gropin’ along in perfect blackness at 12 M., and can’t see -our noses. Why,” sez he bitterly, “my nose is a perfect stranger to me; -it might be changed to a Roman or a Greecy one, and I not know it.” - -“You’d feel the change,” sez I. - -“I d’no whether I would or not. I feel all lost and by the side of -myself,” sez he; “three more days of these carryin’s on would make my -brain tottle.” - -“Wall, it couldn’t tottle fur,” sez I. I said it to comfort him, but it -wuzn’t took so--no, fur from it. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -ST. PAUL’S AND THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. - - -Wall, after a seen of almost inexpressible wretchedness we reached St. -Paul’s Cathedral. - -Josiah a-gittin’ it into his head that it wuz fashionable to read up -about places of interest, had flooded his brain almost beyend its -strength to bear about the Cathedral. And that information oozed and -drizzled out of the instersises of his brain all the time we wuz there. -As for me, when we entered the great central western door I wuz almost -lost and by the side of myself as I ketched sight of the vast interior. - -As I looked down the immense, soft gray yeller depths of distance, I -felt almost as though I wuz lookin’ down some of Nater’s isles, with -shadders of blue mist a-lurkin’ in the corners. - -After my senses come back gradual I could pay some attention to the -rich, dark carvin’, the crimson cushions, the big organ towerin’ -up, etc., etc. I felt lifted up considerable by the grandeur of the -spectacle. - -But Josiah wanted to show off. - -Sez he, a-wavin’ his hand down the long aisle-- - -“There is the place for knaves! See, Samantha, the beautiful -arrangement--they’re set apart from good folks. It sez the ‘knave runs -down that way.’ He is made to run so’s to separate him still more from -Christians that go slow.” - -“Where did you git that information, Josiah Allen?” sez I. - -“Right here,” sez he, and he took out his guide-book and pinted to the -words-- - -“The long nave runs down through the centre.” - -Sez I, “How do you spell your vile person, Josiah?” - -“N-a-v-e, nave,” sez he--“the easiest way.” - -I groaned, and sez I, “I would shet up that book, Josiah Allen, and go -back to Webster’s old spellin’-book.” - -He acted real pudgiky. - -But Alice wanted to go into the North Chapel, where the short service -for business men wuz a-goin’ on, it bein’ almost noon when we got -there. It wuz a impressive sight to see these busy men takin’ a -breathin’ space from the hard labors of the day to give thought to the -Better Country and the best way to git there. - -A beautiful sculptured head of the Christ looked down on these busy, -careworn men, as if He wuz sorry for ’em and wanted to give ’em a -breath of peace and love to go with ’em through the hot, feverish -toils of the rest of the day. - -After lookin’ up into the ineffible beauty and love of that face, it -didn’t seem as if those grocers could put so much sand into their sugar -and pepper, or the merchants pay so little to the poor wimmen who make -the garments they sell. - -But I d’no. - -Wall, the chapel on the south side wuz meant to be a place to -administer jestice at different times, affectin’ meetin’-housen and -sech--what they call a Consistery Court. - -And here Josiah agin tried to explain things to me. - -Sez he, “This is called a Consistery Court--here is where they try to -be consistent when they attend to affairs of the meetin’-house.” - -And sez I in a dry axent, about as dry as a corn-cob, sez I, “It’s a -pity they don’t have sech a court in American meetin’-housen.” - -Sez I, “They’re needed there,” and my mind roamed over the pressin’ -need of consistency in sech cases as Dr. Briggs, Parkhurst, Beecher, -Heber Newton, Felix Adler, Satolli, etc., etc., etc. - -“And even in Jonesville,” I sez to myself, “is it not possible to even -now have one built in the precincts of the Jonesville meetin’-house, -where the members could go in half a day or so a week and try to be -consistent?” - -Thinkses I, If they did honestly try to live up to the buildin’ they -wuz in, and be consistent, there wouldn’t be so much light talk aginst -religion as there is now, and more young folks brung into the church. - -Howsumever, whether Josiah got it right or not, one thing I do know, -right in the midst of this court is a elaborate monument to the Duke of -Wellington, that almost fills it up, so jestice is fairly scrunched up -and squoze for want of room. - -That noble old Duke wouldn’t wanted it so. But how little can we tell -what people will do with our memories when we have left ’em! But -probble most of us won’t have no sech immense memorial riz up to us -after we have passed away. - -But my reflections wuz agin cut short, for Josiah wanted to agin -show off. Sez he, “The man that that wuz riz up to wuz made of iron -mostly--lost his legs and arms, I spoze, and had iron ones made to -replace ’em.” - -“Iron legs!” sez I; “how could he git round?” - -“By main strength.” Sez he, “He wuz a powerful man; he wuz called the -‘Iron Duke.’” - -I gin him a pityin’ glance, but strangers wuz by, and I wouldn’t -humiliate him by disputin’ him. I merely sez, “If I wuz in your place I -would keep still for the rest of the day, Josiah Allen.” - -But Adrian, who took it all in good part, and with immense interest, -sez-- - -“How funny it must be to shake hands with him, but how it would hurt to -have him strike you over the ear!” - -Sez I, “Adrian, you keep with Alice and me.” Sez I, “We’re a-goin’ to -look at General Gordon’s statute.” - -This noble life and noble death are kep’ in memory by a beautiful -statute, recumbient and a-layin’ down. The face, they say, is a good -likeness. And as I looked at it, the thought of that noble and manly -creeter almost brung tears to my eyes. - -Wall, we proceeded on eastward to the dome. Here is the pulpit and the -place where the bigger part of the congregation sit. - -Lookin’ up, we see glitterin’ spaces filled with beautiful mosiacs, and -up there are the benine figgers of the Evangelists, and the four great -Prophets--Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel. - -Agin that thought of what would be done with our memories hanted me. -They wandered about in goats’ skins here--afflicted, persecuted; did -they think they would ever be throned in sech gorgeous places? No, -indeed. - -Above Daniel, Isaiah, etc., is the whisperin’ gallery, where the lowest -whisper, clost to the wall, goes all round the entire distance--a -sight, hain’t it? - -And way up in the dome we see paintin’s of the life of St. Paul and his -deeds. - -Wall, down on the floor to the south are immense statutes to Lord -Nelson and Cornwallis. Good creeters, both on ’em, I believe, though -mistook in jedgment. And a great monument to Major-General Dundas. -There wuz lots of monuments to other eminent men. Most of the statutes, -as is nateral, as is done in our own country, wuz mostly riz up to -men who had been famous for fightin’--them who had been successful in -killin’ off thousands and thousands of men, leavin’ trails of agony -and blood behind ’em, clouds of black gloom, under which widders and -orphans groped, seekin’ for bread, and fallin’ down hopeless in the -quest. - -Wall, it’s nateral; I couldn’t say a word--America duz it. - -I also see, as in America, the skurcity of female statutes. We see -the absolute dearth on ’em. Why, if a inhabitant of Mars should light -down there some day and take a fancy to go through the cathedral, he -wouldn’t have a idee that there wuz ever sech a thing as a woman in the -world. He would go back to Jupiter and say: “One peculiarity of the -planet Earth wuz, there wuz no wimmen there--only a race of men.” - -And if they questioned him too clost how they wuz born, he would say -that most probble they growed jest like trees. - -And then the old Mars would gather round him and congratulate -themselves on bein’ on a planet where equal jestice wuz awarded to men -and wimmen both, and where there wuz no more war. - -The red lights on the planet don’t mean war, I don’t believe; it means -the rosy glow of the strange foliage that the Mars gather for their -children, and the Pars, too, for all I know. - -But I am indeed a-eppisodin’. - -But a few centuries from now let that same visitor come down and look -into our great cathedrals, on both sides of the Atlantic, and he will -see statutes to wimmen risin’ up jest the same as to men. Under the -benine faces of some on ’em he will read-- - -“There is no more war, for the former things have passed away.” - -The former things wuz what made war--injestice, intemperance, brutality, -licenses for prostitution, drunkenness, and infamy, etc., etc., etc. - -But I am a-eppisodin’ too fur, too fur. - -The stained-glass winders we see on every side wuz beautiful in the -extreme. But if you’ll believe it, this meetin’-house hain’t finished -yet. Seein’ there has been a meetin’-house here for thirteen hundred -years or so, you’d a-thought they’d ort to got it finished; but, then, -they’ve been burnt out several times. - -I don’t want to brag over ’em, I didn’t feel like it at the time, -though I couldn’t help a-thinkin’ that we built the Jonesville -meetin’-house in three months. But, then, this one is bigger and has -more work on it. - -Though the steeple on our meetin’-house is _very_ much admired. - -Wall, we went down into the crypt. It is called one of the finest in -Europe. It is the same size as the cathedral. - -Here are some more warriors buried--Lord Nelson, the Duke of -Wellington, etc. But to give credit to those who got up the -buryin’-ground, there are some ministers buried there--sech as Dr. -Liddon, Dean Milman, and eminent painters, sculpters, etc. - -Here lies the great architect of the cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren. - -Josiah read the tablet on his grave, and then went to explainin’ it to -us. - -Sez he, “It tells the date of his birth and his death, and then it sez -sunthin’ about spice--allspice, I guess. Christopher wuz probble fond -of it.” - -Sez I, for I knowed the words by heart-- - -“Reader, if you ask where is his monument, look about you.” - -Sez Josiah, “You’re wrong, Samantha. There’s the word spice all writ -out.” - -Sez I, “It’s a dead language, Josiah--I’ve translated it. And,” sez I, -“if you felt as I did a-lookin’ round on his matchless monument, sech -as no man ever had before, you wouldn’t talk about allspice.” - -He acted real huffy, and moved on. - -Here are many monuments to illustrious people who are buried somewhere -else. - -Down here in the east end is a chapel where they have early service -every week day. - -In the west end is kept the funeral car on which the body of the Duke -of Wellington wuz carried to the grave-- - -“To the sound of the people’s lamentation.” - -It is a handsome structer of gun metal. One gun took at each of the -Duke’s victories bein’ melted to make it. Twelve horses wuz needed to -draw this car--it broke through the pavement in many places. - -As I wuz a-explainin’ this to Alice, I hearn Josiah say to Adrian: - -“On account of his legs and arms bein’ so heavey, I spoze, and his -bein’ so great.” - -And then I had to explain to that child agin that his greatness wuz not -his heft by the steelyards, nor his bein’ called iron wuzn’t because he -wuz made of cast iron. - -I guess Adrian understood it--I guess he did. But Josiah Allen wuz a -drawback to correct information--indeed, he wuz. - -For as we wended on I hearn him explain how this cathedral wuz sot on -fire in 1590 by a woman called Anne Domono. - -Sez Adrian, “She was a bad woman, wasn’t she?” - -[Illustration: “Yes,” sez Josiah, “old Domono probble had his hands -full with her.”] - -“Yes,” sez Josiah with a deep sithe, “old Domono probble had his hands -full with her--she wuz a fiery creeter.” - -But here I interfered and explained it all out to Adrian, much as I -hated to go agin my pardner’s words. - -Strange doin’s has been done in this old meetin’-house durin’ the long -centuries that it has stood here. It almost made my brain reel to think -on ’em. - -Councils of the church wuz held here, the Bishop of Exeter sought -refuge here from a mob--wuz proclaimed a traitor and beheaded. Here -Wyckliffe wuz tried for his religious opinions. Here popes sent out -their legates. Here kings held their councils, and here men and wimmen -sold their goods. And some with stuns and arrers killed the pigeons who -made their nests in the ornaments of the walls. Here, too, they played -ball and other games. Queer doin’s for meetin’-housen, but it wuz true. -But what would the world say if my Josiah and Deacon Bobbett should -take to playin’ ball in the Jonesville meetin’-house, or Sister Gowdy -and I should play tag round the pulpit? Why, how foreign nations would -be all rousted up and sneer at us! - -Here the leaders in the War of the Roses acted and carried on. Here -Richard, Duke of York, took a solemn oath to uphold Henry VI., and -then tried his best to shake him off the throne--lyin’ and actin’ in a -meetin’-house. Here the dead body of Henry lay in state. - -After the Reformation had begun it wuz desecrated by the very meanest -kind of doin’s. All kinds of business wuz carried on, all kinds of -amusements. Busybodys and gossips made it their resort, and the Holy -Evelyn said-- - -“It was made a stable of horses and a den of thieves.” - -Then, if you’ll believe it, some of the reformers, or them who called -themselves sech (queer creeters, I guess), stole the beautiful altar -clothes, communion plate, candleabra, etc.--jest carried ’em off under -the mantilly of religion they’d put on. - -Curous! curous! but, then, that old mantilly covers up lots of stolen -things to-day, and meanness of all sorts. - -After this the grand old meetin’-house wuz completely burnt down. -I should thought it would have expected lightnin’ to strike it, or -sunthin’. Anyway, it all burnt down to ashes. The present buildin’ -hain’t been misused in that way--the services are carried on decently -and in order. - -Wall, we hung round there for more’n a half day. Josiah had took the -precaution to eat a hearty lunch before we sot out, so he remained -considerable quiet till the nawin’s of hunger overtook him agin. And we -left at sunset. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -“THE WIDDER ALBERT.” - - -I’d told Martin when we’d first come to London that I must see the -Widder Albert whilst I wuz there. - -A few days had run by, and I sez to Martin--“Like as not Victoria will -be a-wonderin’ why I hain’t been to her house.” - -Of course when I first arrove I had sent her word to once, and asked -her in a friendly way to come and see us jest as quick as she could, -knowin’ that it wuz etiket for me to do so, and it wuz nothin’ but -manners for her to make the first visit. - -And a-takin’ it right to home, that if she had come over to Jonesville, -and wuz a-stoppin’ to the tarvern there, it would be my place to make -the first call. I hain’t over-peticular in sech matters, but still I -set quite a store by etiket, after all, and havin’ made the overtoor -and sent the word that I wuz here, I didn’t want to demean myself by -actin’ too over-anxious to make her acquaintance, though I did in my -heart want to neighbor with her, thinkin’ quite a lot of her as a -woman who had rained long and rained well. - -It wuz Martin that I sent the word by. He argued quite a spell about -the onproperness of my sendin’ sech word to a Queen. But I argued back -so fluent about the dissapintment it would be to her if she didn’t know -I wuz here, and my onwillin’ness to hurt her feelin’s by my not makin’ -myself known to her, that I spoze he wuz convinced, for he sez-- - -“Leave it right in my hands; don’t say a word to anybody else on the -subject, and I will tend to it in the right way.” - -So I gin my promise, and as he hurried right out of the room, I spoze -he tended to it imegiately and to once. And I sot in my room the -rest of that day in my best waist and my shiniest collar and cuffs, -expectin’ some that she would be to see me before night. - -And the next time I went out sight-seein’, though I didn’t say a word -about her, accordin’ to my promise, yet I expected to go back and see -the benine face, mebby a-lookin’ over the bannisters a-waitin’ for me. - -I didn’t spoze she would have her crown on at this time--no, I expected -to see that good, likely face surrounded by a widder’s bunnet, or mebby -a crape veil throwed on kinder careless like. - -I knew we should be very congenial. We both wished so well to our own -sect--we wuz both so attached to our pardners; and though hern had -passed on and mine wuz still with me, still I knew we had so many -affectin’ incidents of our early days of our wedded love, before our -perfectly adorin’ affection for Albert and Josiah wuz toned down by -time and walkin’ round in stockin’ feet, and throwin’ crowns and -bootjacks down in cross and fraxious hours, when meals wuz delayed, or -the nations riz up and kicked, or the geese got into the garden, or -slackness about kindlin’ wood, or the shortness of a septer, or etc., -etc., etc. - -Yes, I spozed we both had had our domestic trials. I spozed that -Albert had his ways jest as Josiah has. Every pardner has ’em--they’re -fraxious, touchy at times, over-good at others, and have mysterious -ways. Men are dretful mysterious creeters at times--dretful. - -Yes, I felt that we could find perfect volumes to talk over on this -subject, for if ever there wuz two wimmen devoted to their pardners -with a devotion pure and cast iron, them two wimmen wuz Samantha and -Victoria. - -And then, too, we wuz both Mas. I spozed she would tell me the good -pints of Albert Edward, and I laid out to tell her of the oncommon -smartness of Thomas Jefferson. And the more she would enlarge on -Bertie, the more I would spread myself on Tommy. - -And then the girls; how she would tell me about Louise and Beatrice, -and how I would tell her about Tirzah Ann--how we’d praise ’em up and -compare notes about ’em. - -I presoom her boys and girls didn’t always come up to her idees of -what girls and boys should do, and should not do. And if she told me -in confidence anything of this sort, I wuz a-layin’ out to confide in -her about Tirzah Ann, and how her efforts to be genteel wore on me, and -how she would love to flirt if it wuzn’t for religion and a lack of -material. And if she made any confidences to me about Bertie--anything -relatin’ to the fair sex, and playin’ games, etc., I wuz a-goin’ to -tell her, as much as I love Thomas Jefferson, I thought he did play -checkers too much; and sence he wuz riz up so as a lawyer, the wimmen -jest made fools of themselves and him, too, a-follerin’ him up and -a-makin’ of him; but, then, Maggie didn’t care a cent about it, and -that he wuz perfectly devoted to his wife and children, jest as her boy -wuz. - -I wuz a-goin’ to say that I would never mention these things to a -single soul but her, anyway, but I knew she would keep it, for she wuz -jest like me--if her boy didn’t please her, she went right to him -with it, and that ended it. She stood up for him to his back, jest as I -stood up for Thomas J. - -Yes, I spozed we should take solid comfort a-confidin’ in each other, -and mebby a-givin’ each other hints that would be helpful in the futer. - -And then we wuz both grandmas. How happy we should be a-talkin’ over -the oncommon excellencies of our grandchildren! - -For though we are both too sensible to act foolish in sech matters and -be partial, yet we both knew there never wuz and probble never would be -sech grandchildren as ourn wuz. - -And then I had some very valuable receipts I laid out to gin her in -cases of croup and colic, sech as young people don’t pay much attention -to, but which I knew would jest suit her, and which might come handy -for her grandchildren or great-grandchildren. I laid out to write ’em -off for her. One or two of ’em wuz in poetry-- - - “A handful of catnip steeped with care, - With a little lobelia throwed in there, - Mixed with some honey more or less, - Will mitigate the croup’s distress.” - -And this-- - - “Some mustard seed, - Some onion raw, - Applied to chests-- - I never saw - A thing more strong - To draw, to draw.” - -The grammar wuzn’t quite what I would have liked it to be in this last -verse of poetry, but I made it in a time of pain, and I knew that when -croup and colic wuz round, she nor I wuzn’t a-goin’ to stand on a verb -more or less. - -And then I had another one: - - “Some spignut roots - Steeped on the fire - Is always good - For my Josiah. - And a little Balm - Of Gilead flowers - Is good to calm - In fraxious hours.” - -I laid out to gin her all these receipts, and offer to send her the -ingregients for makin’ the mixtures. - -Of course her pardner had passed away, but the world is full of men and -wimmen, and sickness and fraxiousness are rampant, and good receipts -like these don’t grow on every gooseberry bush. - -And then, I had a lot of other receipts I thought she’d like. And I -wuz a-goin’ to ask her for her receipt for makin’ milk emptin’s bread; -somehow, mine had seemed to run out and not be so good as usual. And I -had a receipt for corn bread that wuz perfectly beautiful-- - - “Two measures of meal and one of flour, - Two of sweet milk and one of sour, - And a little soda and molasses.” - -Besides the literary treat of this poem, the excellence of the bread -wuz fenominal. - -And then, how we both would love to talk about the interests of the -world at large! I wuz a-goin’ to compliment her by sayin’ that though -the sun never set on her property, while it sot every day on ourn, yet -she couldn’t welcome the blazin’ sun of Righteousness and Enlightenment -any more gladly than I did. And how first-rate I thought some of her -moves had been, and how highly glad and tickled I’d been over ’em; and -then I wuz layin’ out to draw her attention to some tangles in the mane -and tail of the old Lion of England, a-tellin’ her at the same time -that I realized only too well the dirt and onevenness in the feathers -of our American Eagle. - -I wuz a-goin’ to talk it over with her about the opium trade, and the -dretful intemperance and horrible cuttin’s up and actin’s, and the -dretful crimes bein’ perpretated way out in Injy. - -Dretful thing, indeed, takin’ a woman and ruinin’ her body and soul for -time and eternity, and then the goverment a-drawin’ money out of this -eternal shame and ruin. I spozed we should talk a sight about that -and draw lots of morals from it, too--draw ’em a good ways. And the -horrible doin’s in Armenia--I thought more’n as likely as not we should -both shed tears over it. - -But, as I say, time had went on, and she hadn’t come to see me yet. I -asked Martin anxiously what he spozed wuz the reason, and he gin me -various and conflictin’ answers. - -Once he sed she wuz sick a-bed; and the next hour, in answer to my -anxious inquiry, he told me she had gone on a visit to a fur country. -And when I reminded him of the descripency in his statements, he come -right out and sed she’d broke her legs--both on ’em. - -“But,” sez he, “don’t make it public--it’s a State secret.” - -Wall, then I worried considerable about her, and sed I ort to go and -see her, and carry her some Tincture of Wormwood. - -And then Martin sed she wuz entirely well and comfortable and happy, -but couldn’t walk. - -But I sez, “She might send me word.” - -“She did,” sez he; “she tells you that the next time you visit England -she hopes to see you.” - -“The next time!” sez I--“there won’t be no next time. If I ever git -acrost the ocean agin I shall stay there.” - -“Yes,” sez my Josiah; “if we ever see home agin we shall probble never -step our feet outside the house agin, or the back door-yard.” - -But I sez, “I shall probble walk round some in the front yard, and -mebby visit the children.” - -Sez he, “Not for years, if ever.” Sez he, “I want to set down on our -back steps and set there for over a year without gittin’ up.” - -I felt that along in January he would be willin’ to move round a little -and git into the house, but that dear man can’t be megum. - -Wall, with deep dissapintment I realized that the Widder Albert and I -wuzn’t a-goin’ to meet. If she wuz in the state Martin said she wuz, of -course I knew she couldn’t take no comfort a-visitin’, and I hain’t no -hand to go and visit sick folks if I can’t help ’em. - -And I spoze, as Martin sed, that she had good hired girls and -everything done for her comfort. - -But I worried about her quite a good deal. - -But it wuz a comfort to me to think of what a big house she had--it -wuz big enough to hold plenty of help, and it must have good air in -it--yes, indeed! The house itself is as big as from our house over to -Deacon Gowdey’s, and I d’no but bigger. - -Martin made a great pint on goin’ to see the Bank of England. I believe -he jest loves to walk round the outside of buildin’s that has immense -wealth in ’em, if he don’t go inside. He and Josiah went and wuz gone -all the forenoon. I spozed it would take a week to go through all -the rooms. Why, there is nine different door-yards right inside the -buildin’; they call ’em courts, and the rooms open into ’em; so you can -form a idee of how big it is. But I didn’t seem to care so much about -goin’, so I stayed to home. I had quite a talk with Al Faizi about it. -He’d been a-huntin’ up facts and idees, as his way is. - -He didn’t condemn the ways of England at all--he simply told the facts -and left ’em, jest as the ’postles did. He sed he found that in the -Bank of England wuz the greatest wealth heaped up in the smallest space -that the world had ever known sence the creation. And with the same air -of simply tellin’ a fact, and then leavin’ it, in the New Testament -way, sez he-- - -“Almost in the shadow of this building, holding the world’s wealth, I -find the greatest want and wretchedness and crime existing that I have -ever looked upon, and I believe the worst the world has ever seen.” - -[Illustration: “Almost in the shadow of the Bank of England, I found -the greatest want and wretchedness.”] - -He didn’t say that there must be a screw loose somewhere in the -great revolvin’ wheel of Humanity to make sech a state of things -possible. He jest writ down sunthin’ in that book of hisen--mebby -it wuz expressions of wonder about our boasted civilization havin’ -accomplished so little in eighteen hundred years, when the richest -place on earth should have its dark shadder of the greatest want and -crime clost to its side. No; he jest stated the facts and let us draw -our own morals, and as fur as we wanted to. Martin didn’t notice his -remarks, nor see Al Faizi at all, so fur as I could observe. He went on -a-talkin’ with Josiah about the bank, and about Rotten Row; he sed he -wanted us to see that, and wanted us to set off to once. - -And I told Alice out to one side, when we wuz gittin’ ready, that I -didn’t know as I wanted her to go into any sech a nasty place, or -Adrian either. I take good care of the children--yes, indeed I do! - -But we found out when we got there that Rotten Row wuz a elegant place, -fixed off for ridin’ and drivin’. Beautiful ladies and grand-lookin’ -gentlemen, and if there wuz anything Rotten about ’em, it wuz on -the inside of their phylackricies; the outside of ’em wuz clean and -brilliant. - -Some say that the place where these great folks congregate is well -named, but I don’t believe everything that I hear. - -Martin enjoyed the seen dretfully, though he sed, on commentin’ on the -ladies ridin’, that none on ’em could come up to an American woman in -grace, and he sed that the best ridin’ that he ever see wuz by cow-boys -on a Dakota ranch. - -Wall, I couldn’t dispute him, never havin’ neighbored with cow-boys. -But let Martin alone for findin’ out all the attractions of U. S. A. -No; U. S. A. won’t suffer in Martin’s hands, not at all. - -As I sed, Martin and Alice went round quite a good deal to see her -friends--Lords and Ladies some on ’em; she got acquainted with ’em to -school, when she wuz a-boardin’ with that Miss Ponsions, a good likely -school-teacher she wuz, so fur as I could make out. - -But owin’ to the Widder Albert enjoyin’ sech poor health, and not bein’ -able to git to see me, I didn’t seem to want to go round so much. I -didn’t want to go to parties--no, indeed! - -Alice come home from one gin by Lady L----, and, if you’ll believe it, -her pretty dress wuz all crushed and torn, fairly spilte. Alice sed -there wuz sech a jam she couldn’t breathe hardly. - -And I sez, “Sech doin’s don’t speak well for the woman of the -house--lady or no lady; and,” sez I, “I’d love to advise her; I’d tell -her that when I give a quiltin’ or a parin’-bee I never invite more’n -can git round the quilt and the parin’ machines handy and without -crowdin’.” - -Sez I, “I could probble put idees into Lady L----’s head that would -help her all her life in futer parties.” But I didn’t happen to see -her, poor thing! and so I spoze she’ll keep on in the old way. - -I have known ’em who lived in the country, fur back from the delights -and advantages of Jonesville--I have known them creeters, when they -come in on a saw log or on a load of calves to ship, I have seen ’em -look with perfect or at the commotion and life in the Jonesville -street, where, right in front of the tarvern, I have seen with my own -eyes as many as five teams and two open buggies, besides walkers on the -sidewalk. This sight to ’em, fresh from country wilds, where one wagon -along the road a day wuz a fair average, wuz as good as a circus to ’em. - -[Illustration: Right in front of the tarvern, I have seen with my own -eyes as many as five teams and two open buggies.] - -But the Jonesvillians wuz ust to the rush and bustle of them seven -teams, and acted calm and self-possessed and hauty through it all. - -But I have seen the pride of them very Jonesvillians took down when -they visited New York. There I have seen ’em stand with or on lower -Broadway, when they see the rush, and jam, and push, and pull, and -I’ve hearn their remarks, full as wonderin’ and as agitated as the -backwooders from way behind Jonesville. - -That makes two ors, as I figger on’t. - -Wall, here is another one jest as big or bigger; set them New Yorkers, -them very Broadwayers, down in a London street, and you’ll have another -or jest as big to add as the two foregoin’ ones. - -The crowd is jest as much immenser, the roar jest as much louder, the -jam, and push, and pull, and drive, and yell, and crash, and scramble, -and roar, and rattle jest as much more enormouser. - -Why, imagine the slate stuns down to the Jonesville creek all springin’ -up into men and wimmen, and horses and wagons, and carriages and drays, -etc., etc., etc., and you may have a faint idee of the countless number -on ’em; and then imagine over all that seen a deep, black curtain of -fog descended down sudden, and out of that roar the crowds of vehicles -of all kinds, the yells of drivers, and most probble the yells of -skairt-out females a-blendin’ in it--imagine it if you can; wall, that -is a London street. - -I wuz considerable interested in the bridges of London that crossed the -Thames, and I meditated every time I crossed one on ’em on Old London -Bridge, and what a seen, what a seen that wuz for centuries; with -houses built on each side on’t, merchants and dealers in everything, -and artists and preachers, for all I know. I know, anyway, one on ’em -wuz a good preacher--the immortal Bunyan. How he must have meditated as -he see the throng surge past him--old and young, beggars and princes, -velvet and rags! - -How he must have thought of the hard journey to the Celestial City, and -what a hard tussle it wuz to git there! - -Hogarth lived here at one time, and mebby got the idee of his “Rake’s -Progress” from some of the endless crowd he see go past. Anyway, he -probble see rakes enough, if that wuz all, for they have permeated -every field of life, a-rakin’ up all that is vile, and leavin’ the -flowers and sweet blades of grass as they raked on. - -Holbein lived here. - -Life on that old bridge must have been a sight to contemplate, havin’ -a good time on it some of the time, most probble, jest as we do in -America and Jonesville. But in times of highest prosperity a-knowin’ -that under ’em wuz a deep, black current a-flowin’, jest as we know it -in Jonesville, only the current of Human Life is more mysteriouser and -vague. - -Poor William Wallace had his head stuck up here--good creeter, it -wuz a shame after all he went through: a-losin’ his first wife and -a-fightin’ so for freedom. And Thomas More, and Bolingbroke, and lots -of others--middlin’ good creeters, all on ’em. And then there wuz -traitors, Jack Cade, etc., etc., etc. I d’no but their heads did less -trouble here than when they wuz on their bodies, so fur as the world -wuz concerned, but I spoze it come tough on ’em, a-seein’ these heads -wuz the only one they had. - -And Martin took us to parks so beautiful and grand that they took down -Martin’s pride considerable, and us Jonesvillians, whose grassy acre in -front of the meetin’-house had looked spacious to us, laid out as it -wuz with young maples and slippery ellums-- - -But where wuz our pride, and where wuz Martin’s? Think of four hundred -acres all full of beauty: that is Hyde Park. And Windsor Park, Queen -Victoria’s door-yard, as you may say, has five hundred acres in it. -Jest think on’t. - -And there we’ve called our door-yard big, specially sence we moved -the fence and took in the old gooseberry patch. I had boasted to -neighborin’ wimmen that it must be nigh upon a quarter of a acre--but -five hundred, the idee! - -Wall, I’m glad I hain’t got to tend to it, and weed the poseys, and see -that the grass is cut. But, then, she’s forehanded; she can afford to -hire. - -But, amongst all the parks we went to, Josiah and I seemed to like the -Kew Gardens about as well as any. - -I had deep emotions, for wuz it not there that Clive Newcome walked -with Ethel? Her sweet form clost to him, but the dreary sea of Hopeless -Despair a-surgin’ through his heart, a-seemin’ to wash her milds away -from him, and she also, visey versey. - -Poor young creeters! poor young hearts! - -I seemed to see ’em a-walkin’ before me, with downcast heads and sad -eyes, all up and down them lovely walks, jest as in Windsor Park -I seemed to see the Merry Wives of Windsor, and poor old Falstaff -a-settin’ out to meet ’em. - -I seemed to look out with my mind’s eye for that poor, foolish, vain -old creeter more’n I did for Victoria’s clothes, which I might have -expected would be hung out to dry that day--it bein’ a Monday, and she -sech a splendid housekeeper. - -I have said what emotions rousted up in me as I went through Kew -Gardens; as for Josiah, he liked ’em because he could git provisions -here of all kinds--good ones, too, and cheap. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -A VISIT TO THE BRITISH MUSEUM. - - -Wall, we went to the British Museum. - -To give any idee of what we see in that museum would take more time, -and foolscap paper, and eyesight, or wind and ears than I spoze I will -ever be able to command. - -It is seven acres of land full of everything rich and rare and -beautiful from our time back to the year one, and further, for -all I know. The marbles, engravin’s, picters, coins, manuscripts, -curosities--if I had the wealth of ’em in money--if I could have the -worth of jest one article out of the innumerable multitude of ’em, I -could jest buy out the hull town of Lyme, and live on the interest of -my money. - -The museum holds everything and more too. And the library, why, it -is most too much to believe what we see there. Now, I’ve always had -a Bible and a New Testament, and have never gin much thought whether -there wuz any other different ones; but I see with my own eyes -seventeen hundred different kinds of Bibles. - -And good land! everything else accordin’--everything else a-swingin’ -out jest as regardless of cost and space. The Egyptian Gallery wuz a -sight to see, and statutes and slabs older than the hills. Who writ -them words on ’em? Did the heads ache, and hearts, jest as they do now? -I spoze so. - -Roman, Grecian, Assyrian galleries, galleries of all sorts, birds and -beasts and fishes enough to stock the world, it seemed to me. - -But most of all the relicks; some on ’em filled my tired-out brain with -or and wonder and admiration. - -Milton’s contract with his publishers for “Paradise Lost” (he got five -pounds down, and wuz goin’ to git five dollars more when the first -edition wuz sold, and so on). - -They took the advantage on him; you know he wuz blind, and couldn’t -skirmish round and look into things; so Paradise or not, they got the -better of him. - -And then his widder; why didn’t they try to do as they ort to by Miss -Milton? She sold out root and branch for eight dollars--the idee! Why, -how many copies have been sold of that book? Enough to build up a -mountain as high as the Catskills. - -8 pounds for ’em--what a shame! - -The publishers are dead, I spoze; yes, I spoze Samuel Symon passed -away years ago, but he left quite a big family, and they all seem to -foller the old gentleman’s plans, and are doin’ first-rate and layin’ -up money real fast. - -And I see Hogarth’s receipts for some of his picters. And there wuz the -very prayer-book used by Lady Jane Grey on the scaffold. - -“Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place for all generations,” and -“though I walk through the valley and the shadow of death” I will be -with thee. I wonder if she heard the words when the shadders lay so -dark on her pretty head? - -Then there wuz letters writ in their own hands from Martin Luther, -Oliver Cromwell, Mary Queen of Scots, Queen Elizabeth, Peter the Great, -Dudley, Leicester, Francis Bacon. And there wuzn’t a word in Francises -letter, so fur as I see, as to whether he wuz Shakespeare or not, or -whether Shakespeare wuz him. - -I wish I knew how it wuz! - -And there wuz papers and letters from all the kings and emperors, and -George Washington right amongst ’em--it kinder tickled my pride to see -George there, but he deserved it. - -Then there wuz the old bull that gin Henry the VIII. the name of -Defender of the Faith. What kind of faith did he act out--the faith -that he could marry more wimmen and chop their heads off than any -other old creeter this side of Blue Beard. - -I should have been ashamed if I wuz him. If he had been a woman -a-marryin’ and a-killin’ and a-marryin’, and etc., etc., etc., they -wouldn’t have stood it half so long--they would have broke it up; it -wouldn’t have been any worse in a female for anything I know. - -And then there wuz the message from Julius Cæsar a-sayin’ that he had -“Veni, vidi, vici.” - -I spoze Thomas Jefferson would know jest what that meant. Josiah -thought it wuz sunthin’ about some wimmen--Nancy somebody, but I -d’no--I wouldn’t ask. - -And then there wuz letters from good riz up creeters, sech as John -Knox, Sir Isaac Newton, Cardinal Wolsey, Cranmer, Erasmus, etc., etc., -etc., etc., etc., etc., and so forth. - -Josiah wuz perfectly beat out when we got home that night, and so wuz I. - -But we found letters from home, and they seemed to refresh us and take -our minds offen our four legs and our two dizzy and tired-out heads. - -Babe, sweet little creeter, she writ that she prayed for me every -night, and for her grandpapa, too. I wonder if that is one reason why -our legs didn’t give out completely that day, as they threatened to -time and agin? - -Thomas J. and Tirzah Ann writ affectionate letters--Thomas J. a-tellin’ -us to be careful and not overdo, and Tirzah Ann sent a heart full of -love, and a request to git a yard and a half of lace with deep pints -on’t to trim a summer waist. - -Ury and Philury wanted to know when we wuz a-comin’ home, and whether, -with deep respects, they should take up the parlor carpet, that seemed -threatened with carpet bugs, and whether it wuz best to break up the -8-acre lot. - -Oh, sweet and tender missives, how near they seemed to bring the old -home to us--drag it right along over the glassy bridge of the Atlantic -and land it at our feet! - -Wall, Martin sed he wouldn’t fail to see Madame Tussaud’s wax figgers. -He sed undoubtedly he would be asked if he’d seen ’em. And Adrian wuz -anxious to go, thinkin’ it wuz sunthin’ like a circus. - -But we found it wuz a sight, a sight to see how nateral they wuz. -Why, some of the figgers almost breathed, and you can see ’em--some -machinery rigged up inside, I spoze. And then we see kings, and -queens, and princes, and warriors, and everybody else--we got fairly -light-headed a-seein’ ’em all, and I spoze Josiah got kinder excited -and wrought up, or he wouldn’t have done as he did. - -There wuz a old man a-holdin’ a programme in his hand, and every little -while he would lift up his head and look round. He favored Deacon Henzy -quite a good deal, and Josiah sez to me-- - -“I believe that is Deacon Henzy’s cousin; you know he sed he had one -here in London. Don’t you see he has got the real Henzy nose? I believe -I’ll be neighborly and scrape acquaintance with him.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “he duz favor the Henzys, but,” sez I, “don’t be too -forred; the Henzys are big feelin’.” - -“Big feelin’!” sez Josiah; “don’t you spoze he will be glad to see -a neighbor of his own blood relation?” Sez he, “He will be glad to -neighbor with me.” - -I felt dubersome, but he advanced onwards, and sez he in his most -polite axents-- - -“Be you any kin of Bildad Henzy, of Jonesville?” - -[Illustration: “Be you any kin of Bildad Henzy, of Jonesville?”] - -The old man never moved, but read away, and occasionally lifted his -head and looked round, and Josiah spoke agin a little louder-- - -“Be you any relative of Bildad Henzy?” - -He never noticed my pardner any more’n as if he wuz dirt under his -feet, and my pardner got his dander up, and he fairly yelled in the old -man’s ears-- - -“Be you a Henzy?” And bein’ mad, he added, “Dum you! I believe you can -hear if you want to.” And he put his hand on the old man’s shoulder to -draw his attention to him. And for all the world! if that man wuzn’t -wax! Josiah looked meachin’ for as much as four minutes, and I sez-- - -“I told you to look ahead.” - -“You didn’t, nuther,” he snapped out. - -“Wall,” sez I, “it wuz words to that effect, and I wouldn’t try to be -neighborly agin to-day.” - -Sez he, “If I see a man afire I wouldn’t tell him on’t.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “he would probble find it out himself; but now,” sez I, -“you’d better keep right by me.” - -Wall, as I said, we see every noted woman from Queen Victoria back to -Eve, I guess; and from the Prince of Wales and his wife and children -back to little Cain and Abel--or I presoom Adam’s little boys wuz -there, though I don’t remember of seein’ ’em. But there wuz Knights, -Barons, Crusaders, Kings, and Emperors, all dressed up in royal robes; -the Black Prince, as good a lookin’ young man as I want to see, and -Kings Edward and Richard and Henry, and Queens Mary and Elizabeth, -and Mary, Queen of Scots, all ready to have her head cut off; and her -rosary, on which she had told her prayers those dretful days, slipped -through her fingers as much as to say, I am goin’ into a country where -I sha’n’t want you any more. And there wuz Marie Antonette--poor -creeter! and Anne Boleyn, poor thing! she’d better not married a -widdower. And Joan of Arc, noble creeter! I felt real riz up a-lookin’ -at her--I always liked her. - -And I wuz dretful interested in the Napoleon rooms, full of the relicks -of the great kingmaker. - -There he lay, jest as nateral as life, on a bed, with his cloak wropped -round him--the very cloak he wore at the battle of Marengo, and which -he wropped round his body some like a pall when that heart had stopped -its ambitious throbbin’s; and the world breathed freer. - -Then there wuz his coronation robe--and if you’ll believe it, the -coronation robe of poor Empress Josephine right by. - -I’d a-gin ten cents cheerfully if I could have got a little piece of -both on ’em for my crazy quilt. But I didn’t spoze they’d be willin’ to -have me cut ’em off, so I didn’t tackle the guide about it. - -And mebby it wuz jest as well, I d’no as I could have slept much -under them two robes and meditated on what they had covered up. Love, -triumph, doubt, jealousy, heartaches, despair would permeate the -Josephine crazy block, and wild passions, and burnin’ ambition, and -cold, remorseless neglect, and desertion would most likely surround the -Napoleon crazed block. - -I d’no but I should have the nightmair every time I tried to sleep -under it. - -Then there wuz his watch, stopped the minute he died, his ring, -camp knife and fork, coffee-pot, snuff-box--if I hadn’t seen it, I -wouldn’t believed he used snuff, the idee is somehow so incongrous of -the hero of the Nile, the conqueror of Europe a-takin’ snuff. Why, -all Jonesville kinder looks down on old Miss Moody because she takes -snuff--black snuff, too, scented high with bergamot. - -[Illustration: Napoleon’s tooth.] - -Wall, one of the most life-like relicks wuz one of his teeth; that wuz -a part of the great emperor, or wuz once, before it wuz pulled out. - -I spoze it ached jest like anybody’s tooth, and I presoom he wuz hard -to git along with, and talked rough, jest as any ordinary man duz, -durin’ its worst twinges. - -I presoom he sed “Dum it!” repeatedly before he made up his mind to -have it out. - -I jedge him by Josiah, and I spoze that is a good way to jedge men. - -Yes, I spoze you ketch any one man and study him clost, and you have a -good idee of the hull male race. - -And then there wuz a lock of hair, took right from his scalp, so I -spoze. Oh, what burnin’ thoughts and plans and ambitions once permeated -the spot on which that grew! - -My emotions wuz a perfect sight as I looked at it. - -And we see clothes and relicks of every other great man, it seems to -me, that ever lived--Lord Nelson, Henry of Navarre, etc., etc., etc. - -And we see figgers--lookin’ jest as nateral as if they could walk up -and shake hands with you, if they wuz a-mind to--of Shakespeare and -Macaulay and Scott and Byron, Calvin and Knox and Luther, Lincoln’s -homely, good face, and Grant, Henry Ward Beecher, etc., etc., etc. - -I wouldn’t give a cent to see all the figgers of criminals and -murderers, but Martin thought it advisable to walk through it, so he -could say he’d been there, I spoze. - -And there wuz one thing among everything else that gin me more than -seventy emotions, and that wuz the very axe, the very old guillotine -that cut off the heads of twenty-two thousand folks durin’ the Rain of -Terror in Paris. - -I looked at the piece of iron with feelin’s, as I say, beyend -description. - -And I wondered out loud if the iron wuz now dug out of the sile that -would make jest sech a horrible instrument for America. - -I groaned deep as I wondered it. - -And Josiah sez, “You talk like a fool, Samantha!” - -And I sez, “I hope I do, Josiah--I hope so! - -“But what hammered this piece of iron out to its terrible use wuz the -fiery hammers of jealousy, and fury, and hunger, and want, and the gay -multitude went on in its gayety and extravagancies, and didn’t heed -the sullen hammerin’s onto that iron, and laughed at ’em that called -attention to it--jest as you are a-doin’ now, Josiah Allen.” - -Sez he, “You can talk about my extravagancies if you want to, Samantha -Allen, but I hain’t half the clothes you have, and they hain’t trimmed -off anywhere nigh as high as yourn are.” - -But I went on, not heedin’ his triflin’ words. - -Sez I, “The same furies are loose in the streets of our American -cities to-day--foolish suspicion driv by mistaken zeal, jealousy, -heartburnin’, honest want, and need on one side; injestice, wrong, -oppressions, extravagance, indifference, anger, contempt, etc., etc., -etc., on the other side, all a-flamin’ up and a-holdin’ up a light -for jest sech a axe to be ground out. How long will I hear the sullen -thunderin’ of the silent hammerin’s on the forge of ignorant malice and -hatred and jest anger--how long?” And I sithed deep and heavey. - -And Josiah sez, “What you hear is the thud of folks a-walkin’ through -the Chamber of Horrows.” - -And sez he agin, “You talk like a fool! America is good to the poor. -Look at So-and-so, and So-and-so, and So-and-so,” sez he, a-bringin’ -my attention to some of the most shinin’ lights in the field of -philanthropy and jestice. - -Sez I, a-drawin’ his attention to the good philanthropic works in -France--sez I, “Paris had also her So-and-so, and So-and-so, and -So-and-so before the Rain of Terror.” - -And agin I gin several sithes and a few groans. - -But my pardner looked cross as a bear, and dog tired. - -So, as allegorin’ and eppisodin’ must yield to the powers of affection, -I mekanically follered him in silence through the halls, Martin and the -children bein’ in another part of the buildin’ and Al Faizi somewhere -a-lookin’ or a-takin’ notes in a noble way--I hain’t a doubt of it. - -But we all rejoined each other, and sot off home to dinner amid -Josiah’s great rejoicin’. - -Wall, Martin took us to the Zoological Garden, where we see all the -dumb creeters that ever wuz made, it seemed to me; and all used so -first-rate that it wuz a comfort to me to see ’em. Great big cages, -where they could roam round some and enjoy themselves. - -[Illustration: Josiah at the London “Zoo.”] - -And wuzn’t it a pleasure to see all the beautiful birds, of every color -and plume, from every country from Eden down, a-playin round in the -trees and in the ambient air? The cages as big as a door-yard, with -trees in ’em, where they can fly round in the branches. And water birds -with their own ponds to float in; and sea birds with real sea-shores -fixed up for ’em. - -And so it wuz with every animal from a elephant down, wild or tame. And -I should have took a sight of comfort here if I had had a pair of iron -ear pans, or even gutty-perchy. But bein’ but flesh and blood, them -pans ached with the fearful noise the animals made. - -Josiah wanted the worst way to go to the Parliament of Cogers, which -wuz established over two hundred years ago, and still meets in Fleet -Street. - -Sez Josiah, “A public man in America naterly depends on cogers and sech -for his election.” - -“Yes,” sez I; “Heaven knows that is so. Saloon-keepers and whiskey and -beer and cider manafacturers, and whiskey drinkers, and the raw foreign -element, and other cogers, elect more politicians to office, specially -in our big towns, than any other element; and pure men and Christian -wimmen have to stand back and be ruled by ’em.” - -“Yes,” sez he, blandly; “and so it stands anybody in hand who has -political aspirations and wants to be popular with the masses to -ingrashiate himself with all the cogers he can. I would love to see -what means these men take to endear themselves to the cogers, besides -buyin’ ’em, and makin’ ’em drunk, and sech other ways as I’m familar -with.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “you’ll go alone for all of me; I see cogers enough in -my own country without huntin’ ’em up here, and I’d advise you to keep -away from ’em.” Sez I, “Your head hain’t strong enough, Josiah, to -hold only jest so much, and I’d advise you to fill it up with the noble -and grand objects we see here on every side, and let cogers alone.” - -“But,” sez he, “my futer depends on ’em; I must keep up with other -statesmen if I’m ever to amount to anything.” - -But I wouldn’t listen to any more of his arguments, and waved off the -subject almost hautily. - -But I found out afterwards that the Parliament wuzn’t cogers as -Josiah looked on ’em, and they wuz particular to be called _co_gers, -with the emphasis on the _co_. I found they wuz a sort of mock -debates--patronized by lawyers, political men, newspaper men, clerks, -etc., where they debate on every subject, and drink beer and smoke -pipes and talk, talk, talk. - -Daniel O’Connell and Curran and John Wilkes and many others eminent in -debate wuz members of this club. - -I had always pictered the Tower of London as a tall tower a-shootin’ -up, some like a steeple, only more of a size all the way up; more, -mebby, like a very tall pillow. But, anyway, I’d always depictered it -in my mind as steeple or pillow shaped. - -But, to my surprise, I found that what is called the Tower of London -is a hull lot of buildin’s that cover nigh upon fourteen acres of -ground, though there are, of course, a number of towers throwed -in--thirteen of ’em in all--Bloody Tower, Bell Tower, Jewel Tower, -etc., etc. They date back to the time of Cæsar. - -There wuz a Roman fortress on this spot when the Romans held London. -One tower is called Cæsar’s Tower now. William the Conqueror founded -the Tower of London as we see it. When he wuz alive it wuz a great -palace, with thick walls for safety or defence; it wuz used as a prison -for prisoners of state mostly, and now it is used as an arsenal. Piles -of rifles and cannons are kep’ here in some of the buildin’s. - -The principal entrance is the Lion’s Gate, but there are three other -gates. The Traitor’s Gate wuz the one through which prisoners wuz took -into the Tower. I don’t spoze they recognized the way they wuz took -out. Then there is the Water Gate and the Iron Gate. - -One of the most interestin’ sights there wuz the guards who had charge -of the place. They had on velvet hats, with a kind of a wreath on ’em, -some like Tirzah Ann’s last winter’s hat, and a deep ruffle round their -necks, and a blue sort of a polenay or overskirt, with a belt all -embroidered with roses and thistles and shamrocks and crowns, and, -etc., and short pantoloons, with stockin’s comin’ up to the knee, and -rosettes on their knees and rosettes on their shues. - -Josiah sez to me, “Never before sence I wuz born have I seen a man -dressed up as he ort to be to carry out my idees. You can see for -yourself, Samantha, jest how perfectly beautiful, and how dressy and -stylish a man can be if he sets out; why,” sez he, “a dress like that -would take twenty years offen my age, and I d’no but twenty-one, and -I’m bound to have one jest exactly like it if I ever live to git home. -What a sensation it will create in Jonesville!” sez he dreamily. - -I gin a deep sithe, but before I could reply the company started -on their rounds of observation, led by one of them gay-dressed -individuals. They go the rounds every half hour. - -Wall, we got some guide-books, and payed our sixpence apiece for our -tickets, some as if we wuz goin’ into a menagerie, and follered the -guide over the moat bridge into the different towers. - -Martin and Josiah wuz dretful interested in the place where the weepons -wuz kep’, bayonets and swords and rifles and pistols enough to equip -all the armies of the earth, it seemed to me. - -But I wuz more interested, a dretful heart-sickenin’ interest in the -place where the wretched captives wuz imprisoned and wore the long -hours away (jest as long hours as we have now) in vain dreams of the -happy and brilliant past. A-lookin’ forred to the sure approach of a -awful death, or, perhaps, in ellusive hopes of escape and flight to -other shores. - -But the shores they reached, poor things! wuz up a steep the livin’ has -never climbed. - -We see on the walls of these prisons words they carved in the hours -they waited execution. Arthur Poole, who tried to help Mary up onto the -English throne, left these words-- - -“I. H. S. A passage perillus makethe a port pleasant--1568.--A. Poole.” - -I wonder jest how he felt when he writ them words--jest what a -heartache and heartbreak spoke through ’em. I dare presoom to say he -thought too much of Mary, but I can’t help that now; it’s three hundred -years too late. - -There wuz elaborate carvin’s of flowers, leaves, figgers, etc., and -the names of their unhappy designers, who seemin’ly tried to light up -their captivity by formin’ the shapes of the flowers they would never -see a-growin’ in freedom agin--poseys without perfume, cold stun rosys, -indeed. - -And then in one room wuz jest that one word: - - “Jane.” - -That touched me more’n the more elaborate ones. That wuz spozed to mean -Lady Jane Grey, and wuz carved by her pardner, Lord Dudley. It seemed -as if Love wuz a-callin’ out to her--“Jane!” jest that one cry acrost -the silences of death and eternity. - -Then there wuz the autograph of Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel, who had -his head cut off in 1572 for wantin’ to marry Mary Queen of Scots. - -What a havock that woman did make amongst the men! - -Then in the White Tower we see the place where Essex wuz killed and the -rooms occupied by Sir Walter Raleigh, and in the Brick Tower we see -the prison where Walter spent the last days of his life. I wondered if -through the long, dreary hours them real good words of hisen wuz any -comfort to him: - - “Give me my scallop shell of quiet, - My staffe of faith to walk upon; - My scrip of joye--immortal diet-- - My bottle of salvation, - My gown of glory, hope’s true gage; - --And thus I take my pilgrimage. - - “Blood must be my body’s balmer, - While my soul, like peaceful palmer, - Travelleth toward the land of Heaven. - - * * * * * - - “There will I kiss - The bowle of blisse, - And drink mine everlasting fill - Upon every milken-hill; - My soul will be a-dry before; - But after that will thirst no more.” - -Them lines ort to have been a comfort to him--mebby they wuz. But lines -writ in a pleasant room to home, with the door shet up, don’t mebby -sound jest the same on the scaffold or to the stake--dretful echoes -sound all round ’em, loud voices that mebby drown out the words. - -I spoze he thought sometimes durin’ them long days of his friends -Shakespeare and Bacon. Mebby if there wuz any secrets between them two -about the plays, he knew it. I wish I knew what it wuz--I’d give fifty -cents freely if it could be made known to me. - -I wonder what he thought of Elizabeth in them days. I wonder if he wuz -sorry he throwed his cloak down for her to walk over. He tried to keep -her from jest dampenin’ her feet a little, and she willin’ to cut his -head off. - -I’ll bet if he’d had his way them last ten days here, he would have let -her sloshed right through the mud, and not offered to throw his cloak -down for her. - -Poor, capricious, jealous creeter, Lib wuz; but I believe that big -collar she always wore choked her and kinder rasped her neck, and made -her ugly. It would make me cross as a bear, it seems to me. - -But I d’no what his feelin’s wuz, nor what hern wuz, when she knew the -man who wuz once her lover, and beloved by her, wuz spendin’ the long -days alone with despair and death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -PARIS AND ITS BEAUTIES. - - -Wall, Martin felt and sed that France must be took in by him. He sed -that a full knowledge of the French character, the country and the -customs and habits of the people, wuz positively imperative to any one -who laid any claims to fashion, and so he laid out to go to France and -give it a exhaustive study. He laid out, he sed, to stay in the country -not less than three days, and he might possibly stay four. - -Thinkses I, with a deep inward sithe, I guess it will be a exhaustive -study; it exhausted me even to think of bein’ raced so through a -country, whirled on by the influence of Fashion and Martin. - -But he wuz the conductor of the enterprise, so to speak, and we had to -foller his rules blindly, as it wuz. - -Wall, travellin’ at the rate of speed we did, my memories are apt -to run together, some like the colors of a calico dress after it is -washed--the blacks and reds are apt to mingle, dark eppisodes and -lighter complected ones--but some memories stand out vividly, too -deeply printed to fade out. - -One is my Josiah’s feelin’s at not havin’ his breakfast till ’leven -o’clock. - -In vain the waiter told him that at any time he could have his -“calf-o-lay” (French). - -“Lay!” sez he; “that’s jest what I want to get rid on--lay! Do you -spoze that after gittin’ up at five o’clock all my life, I’m a-goin’ to -lay abed till noon?” And then the waiter murmured sunthin’ agin about -“calf-o-lay.” - -[Illustration: “Calf-o-lay! I hain’t a calf or a ox!” he shouted.] - -And that madded Josiah agin, and sez he, “What of it--what if calves do -lay! I hain’t a calf or a ox!” he shouted. “You think,” sez he, “that -because I come from the country that you can go on with your insultin’ -talk about calves, and intimate that I’m a calf. But I’ll let you know -that you’ve got holt of the wrong individual to impose upon. Keep your -dum breakfast till noon if you want to and starve a man to death, but -you shall not call me a calf.” - -I interrupted him and told him that he meant coffee with milk. - -“Coffee and milk!” he hollered; “what is that to feed a starvin’ man?” -Sez he, “I want pork and beans and potaters and slap-jacks.” - -Wall, the waiter wuz skairt most to death, but I quieted my pardner -down, and the next time I had a chance I bought two paper bags of -cookies and sech, to appease the worst cravin’s of hunger, and -administered ’em to him as I had need. - -Another memory is seein’ the bathers goin’ in at Havre, and the trials -I had with my pardner a-keepin’ him out of the briny surf. - -[Illustration: “How stylish I would look.”] - -Sez he, “Samantha, I will go in a-bathin’; jest see,” sez he, “how -gayly they swim and float through the water, all dressed up in bright -colors; how stylish it would look, what a air it would gin us to see -you and me a-floatin’ and a-bobbin’ up and down in that element! It -would be sunthin’ so uneek to tell to Deacon Gowdey and Ury. - -“And then,” sez he, “we could lead the fashion to home, we could turn -the buzz saw-mill dam into a perfect carnival of delight.” - -I looked coldly at him, and sez I, “You’re not goin’ to make a fool of -yourself at your age by bathin’ and foolin’ round in the water.” - -“Why,” sez he, “you’re always preachin’ up bathin’ to me; you’ve -lectered me more times than I’ve got fingers and toes about bathin’; -and now that I’m willin’ to foller it up, you draw me back.” - -And agin he looked longin’ly at the dancin’ surf and the gay-robed -bathers and the funny bathin’ housen. - -But I sez, “A big pail of water and some soap and towels and the -seclusion of your bedroom are very different from makin’ a spectacle of -yourself here in this hant of display.” - -I broke it up. - -And then at Trouville, though I spoze nobody would believe it, and he -denies it now, yet sech is the force of custom and fashion on the mind -of my beloved pardner that I d’no but that man would have played cards -and won money mebby up as high as 25 cents, if I’d allowed it. - -He denies the awful charge, and mebby he’s right. But he talked -strange, strange for a deacon and a grandfather. - -But while engaged in these purile thoughts while journeyin’ through -France his pardner wuz thinkin’ of what we owed the country, and how -it sent the flower of its youth and bravery to help us in our troublous -time. - -I thought of the young Marquis De Lafayette leavin’ his fair France, -his ease, his luxury, and his sweetheart, to sail out fur away into -the midst of privations and dangers to help a strugglin’ colony to -independence. - -And then I thought of how another Frenchman, Jacques Cartier, wuz the -first white man to navigate our king of rivers, the St. Lawrence. Why, -my thoughts soared and sailed along as I thought of them idees, most as -surgin’ and deep as that noble river at its widest pint, and my pride -and glory in my native land stood up above that sweepin’ current some -like its Thousand Islands, only mebby not ornamented off so much as -they be with palaces, bridges, cupalos, torchlights, etc., etc. - -But I felt dretful riz up. And a-musin’ on Lafayette and the debt we -owed France, I wondered if they got in a tussel with England or Russia -or etc.--if Uncle Sam would lay to and help her in return. - -But I d’no as there is any danger of our havin’ the job, seein’ she has -got about six millions of defenders in her army and navy; and we about -20 or 30 thousand. - -Queer, hain’t it, when the United States is so much bigger than she is? - -But the fact speaks well for our republic and all the law-makers, from -its President and Governors down to its Pathmasters and School Trustees. - -In Havre, Alice wuz some interested in seein’ the birthplace of Sara -Bernhardt. She had seen her act, and they do say, though she is -considerable bony in figger and gittin’ along in years, she is a marvel -of grace, and acts out all sorts of lives, and dies so nateral that -you’d almost appint the day for her funeral and pick out her barriers. - -I don’t spoze I could ever git to be nigh so graceful as she is, and -Josiah don’t think I can; he wuz real sot on it when we talked it over. - -[Illustration: I don’t spoze I could ever git to be nigh so graceful as -she is.] - -Al Faizi wuz interested in seein’ the birthplace of Alphonse Karr--he -had read his works. - -Wall, there wuz one place I wanted to see dretfully on our journey to -Paris, and Al Faizi and Alice wanted to see it too. And that wuz the -place where the Maid of Orleans wuz executed in 1431. I mentioned to -Martin our desires. - -And he sez, “Joan of Ark? What Ark,” sez he, “is that? I am not -familiar with any such personage,” sez he. - -Sez I, “You can call her that, or you can call her Jennie Dark; you can -call it either way.” - -“I don’t know any Ark or Dark,” sez he. “Was she a woman of any note? -Was her calling a high one?” sez he. - -“About as high as you git here below,” sez I. “She heard voices from -above; angels talked with her and guided her on her way.” And I went on -and related her history, brief though impressive, comin’ to me through -Thomas J. - -Sez Martin, “I don’t approve of following up any such impostors; I -don’t believe in any such doings. Common sense don’t bear them out.” - -Sez I mildly, “Mebby Oncommon Sense is needed to comprehend it, Martin.” - -But he wuz obdurate, till Alice told him in her sweet way that she -would really love to go there. - -And then he gin in to once. - -And we did go to the Place De Pucelle, where she wuz burned to death -for bein’ more speritual and riz up than her burners. - -I had a sight of emotions as I stood on that spot--sights on ’em. - -You see, I had her story at my tongue’s end, Thomas J. had read it -to me so much. She wuz a common country girl, whose parents wuz day -laborers. She herself couldn’t read or write. Into this sile, prepared, -as you may say--speakin’ from the laws of heredity--for only coarse -labor, coarse thoughts, common desires and hopes-- - -In this sile sprung up the consummit flower of speritual communion. -Angels talked with her. She held communion with the Exalted One. From -her thirteenth year she heard voices speakin’ to her. They did not tell -her to go forth to labor like her brothers and sisters; no, they told -her to free France from the English, put her young king on the throne. -The onseen one that talked with her enabled her to know her troubled -young king, amidst a crowd of his own age and dressed jest as he wuz. - -She had hard work to even see him to tell her mission, so sure wuz -the Common Sense about her that the Oncommon Sense she had wuz only -imposter. - -But she headed the army, made that wicked, dissolute body of soldiers -some like Christian Endeavorers, so ardent and sincere wuz her piety. - -She won the battle. Agin and agin she defeated the enemy. She saw -her young king crowned. Then she wanted to go back into her quiet -home--into the garden where in the cool of the evenin’ she heard the -heavenly message. She said her work wuz done. But they wouldn’t let her -go. And wuz it because she didn’t foller the Voice that told her to go -back to her old home--did a little personal pride, gratified ambition, -ozze in and flavor the human mandate to make her stay? - -I d’no, nor Josiah don’t. But she begun to make mistakes after -this--lost battles, and at last her own countrymen, though allies of -the English, called her a sorceress. The Common Sense found her guilty; -the same C. S. burnt her up root and branch. - -But the Oncommon Sense didn’t desert her. The heavenly influence that -the multitude wuz blind as a bat to, and as deef as a adder, made her -say in them last supreme moments-- - -“I _did_ hear the voices.” - -Wall, the feelin’s I had as I stood in that spot couldn’t be -counted--no, not on a typewriter. - -The Common Sense felt that a statute to her ort to be useful, as well -as ornamental, so they made it into a sort of a waterin’ trough. And -the statute hain’t what it ort to be, but my imagination filled out -the details, and I see as I look at it the rapt face of the little -maiden of thirteen a-lookin’ up with illumined eyes as she received the -message; I see her a noble conqueror, clad in armor, stand by her young -king as she see him crowned; I see her noble face uplifted to Heaven as -the flames mounted about her; I hearn her say-- - -“I _did_ hear the voices.” - -But my reflections wuz cut short by the words: - -“Well, I believe tourists usually make a short stay here; it is -comparatively uninteresting. This combination of trough and monument is -remarkably uninteresting, and not to be copied by Americans. - -“Though considering the small water power France possesses, compared -with our own great water-courses, I can’t perhaps criticise their -methods so much.” This I heard on the right of me, then on the left of -me Josiah’s voice-- - -“This has put a crackin’ good idee into my head, Samantha. You know the -trough out east of the horse barn, Ury might kinder chop out a statute -of me and nail it on top of it; it would be highly esteemed by my -fellow-townsmen. He could put on it, you know, ”Deacon and salesman in -the cheese factory.“ They’d praise the trough highly, and I’ll have Ury -begin it jest as quick as I git home; I’ve got a good block of hickory -over to the saw-mill.” - -I sithed deep and turned away, and I see Al Faizi’s rapt face a-lookin’ -beyend the statute--fur beyend, on sunthin’ that Martin and Josiah -couldn’t see if they lived to be as old as Metheuseleah. - -Alice looked real sweet and dreamy, too. Adrian wuz playin’ in the -water. - -And so each one on us wuz pursuin’ our own peticular fantoms, some on -’em as thin shadders as the materials dreams are made of, and some on -’em as real and practical as horse-blocks and anvils. - -Martin sed he should make only a brief visit to France, as he had -studied the country so exhaustively when he brung Alice over here to -school and went after her (in all, he wuz in France about 48 hours); he -sed he could spend but very little time there. - -But he sed that he felt that the proper thing to do would be to visit -Paris, so he could say on our return that we had come straight from -Paris. I d’no why he felt so, but I spoze he did. - -But we did, indeed, find Paris a beautiful city. - -Martin put up at a first-class tarvern, as he always did. But I hearn -him tell Josiah that they cheated him on every side. It madded Martin, -for though he always duz things on a large, noble scale, and is willin’ -to pay large, yet he don’t want to be cheated--nobody duz. - -I found that they spoke English at the tarvern, so my worst fears wuz -squenched; for how I wuz goin’ to git along and feed Josiah in a land -where bread wuz “pain” and water wuz “oh” wuz more than I could tell. -Besides, other things accordin’, what wuz I to do? I wildly questioned -my soul. - -How could I git my pardner dressed, and warmed, and git him from place -to place wuz more than I could tell; but my fears wuz vain, for though -jabberin’s wuz on every side on us, and rapid vocifiration in senseless -brogue wuz in voge, yet plenty wuz found who spoke our good, honest, -Jonesville tongue. - -How clean Paris is! how gay and bright the streets look! what pretty -wimmen, and what neat, smart-lookin’ men, and pretty children, too, -with their smart nurse-maids! elegant carriages, splendid housen, -magnificent buildin’s, and arches, and towers, and monuments, and -meetin’-housen, and around everything and over everything the gay, -bright atmosphere of good feelin’ and politeness. - -No wonder folks love to come here, and don’t want to go away. Why, I -enjoyed myself first-rate in Paris, and Paris enjoyed my bein’ there, -so fur as I know; they acted as if they did, anyway; most always -a-smilin’ at me and my pardner in a most agreeable manner. - -Yes, they wuz glad we had lanched out and come, I hain’t a doubt on’t. - -Alice had lots of school friends here, and wuz out a good deal a-seein’ -’em, and Martin and Al Faizi wuz each on ’em a-pursuin’ their own -favorite fantoms--as different as any two fantoms ever wuz, from first -to last. - -But Josiah and me shacked round quite a good deal, Adrian a-goin’ -with us quite considerable. About the first thing that strikes you as -you venter out-doors is the wideness and beauty of the streets, with -their double row of trees and their elegant housen, lookin’ so sort o’ -finished--not put in anyhow, like a palace and a hovel, but all kinder -of the same style and make, handsome as picters, and the sidewalk is -as wide as from our house to the barn, and I d’no but wider. They are -twice as wide as the main street in Zoar, some on ’em, where they have -the most gay and beautiful stores of different kinds; and, if you’ll -believe it, they have tables set out-doors in the most handsome style, -and folks a-eatin’ at ’em, all dressed up and a-jabberin’ away, and -a-laughin’, and havin’ a first-rate time. - -Josiah wuz dretful impressed by it all. - -Sez he, as if he wuz a-usin’ real big words, sez he-- - -“France is impressive and edifyin’ in many ways. What improvements -we can witness and inaugerate to home! One thing I shall immegiately -proceed to arrange; henceforth, Samantha, we shall always partake of -our food out by the side of the road.” - -I looked real cold at the idee, and he went on-- - -[Illustration: Josiah, “cultered and travelled,” schemes for -Jonesvillian out-door dinner parties, à la Paris, and how Samantha -foresees the result.] - -“Jest think of the gayety, the life it will bring to Jonesville to -have all the neighbors a-eatin’ out by the highway, for of course -they will foller the example of those who are cultered and travelled; -imagine,” sez he, a-wavin’ his hand and enjoyin’ himself first-rate in -futer retrospects ahead on him-- - -“Imagine Deacon Henzy and Drusilly, and she that wuz Submit Tewksbury -and her husband, Simon Slimpsey and Betsy, all on ’em a-eatin’ -out-doors, a-minglin’ their voices with ourn as we set to our table; -I with my dressin’-gown on, and you, if you wanted to, a-playin’ on a -accordeon in a gay, light manner befittin’ the happy occasion.” - -Sez I, “It would be a lot of fun to set down in a lot of burdocks and -mullin full of dirt; and what would happen when Deacon Small driv -his big herd of cows by? You know they always will go a-prancin’ and -a-kickin’ up the dust and a-actin’ because he wants ’em to eat the -grass along the side of the road. - -“How would you like to have the table overturned by his critters, and -you prostrated by a kick in the stumick as you tried vainly to protect -the teapot? How would you like to have that Jersey entangle his huffs -in the tossels of your dressin’-gown, and drag you at his heels?” sez I. - -“And who’d bring the food out there and bear it in agin? And if you -think I’m a-goin’ to learn the accordeon at my age and with my rumatiz, -you’re mistakened.” - -He see it wuzn’t feasible, but he wouldn’t gin in. - -He drawed my attention off by pintin’ down the magnificent vista of -broad avenues, three hundred feet wide, smooth as glass, and full of -gay vehicles, and beyend, risin’ up like a dream of beauty and grandeur -and strength, the great Arch d’Etoile. - -This can never be described by Josiah or me; it must be seen to be -appreciated. It is the grandest monument Napoleon has left, and cost -over two millions of dollars. - -But as you go on you see fountains and columns and gardens and arches -and booths and groves and singers and amusements of all kinds for the -people, and everything else that is beautiful and impressive and etc., -etc., etc., etc. - -The Place Vendôme, where memories of the great king-maker hover round -the tall columns that picters out his grand, melancholy career; the -Tuileries and the Louvre. - -How be I a-goin’ to make the public and Betsy Slimpsey git any idee -of them palaces, adorned with all that is most beautiful in art and -sculpter, and that cover sixty acres of ground! - -Mebby I could gin Drusilly Henzy a little idee on’t, for that is jest -the number of acres of solid ground that fell onto ’em from her father. - -It jest about crushed ’em--the wealth seemed to ’em overwhelmin’. - -Imagine a big farm all risin’ up into palaces, beautiful as you ever -see rise up into the cloudy Heavens. - -The Gallery of the Louvre--wall, if Drusilly and I should undertake -to pick up every little grain of dirt that goes to make up them -sixty acres of hern, and have each separate one branch out into some -beautiful, be-a-u-tiful form, some delicate, exquisite fancy, or some -exalted figger of impressive beauty--why, wouldn’t we be tuckered out -before we got through? though at the same time so riz up and inspired, -that we wouldn’t know, some of the time, whether we wuz in the body or -out on’t. - -Wall, that may gin the public and Betsy some idee of what everybody -must make up their mind to go through when they tackle the Louvre. - -From the beginnin’ of time till now every land has contributed its -choicest treasures to this hallowed place, from Nineveh and Egypt to -Jonesville (for was not Jonesville’s choicest treasures of humanity -represented there when Josiah Allen and I stood there, some like -statutes, only more comfortably dressed, and lookin’ round us more?). - -What poems in marble bust onto our visions, and what sights on ’em! - -What marvels of ancient art! - -What picters! what picters! - -Oh, dear me! it lifts me up, and tuckers me out to think on ’em now. -Some of the galleries wuz a quarter of a mild long. - -Jest think of it here, as fur as from our house over to Old Grout -Nickleson’s; and I never ust to think, when his mother-in-law was -bed-rid, that I could walk it; no, I always had Josiah hitch up. And -then think of that immense distance full on each side of the best of -the world. - -Picters by Guido, Murillo, Titian, Rembrandt, Vandyke, Leonardo da -Vinci, Wouverman, etc., etc., etc.--picters that them immortal old -masters had their own hands on, and bent their own glowin’ inspired -eyes on. - -My soul, jest think on’t! - -Relicks of all the sovereigns--spurs of the old conquerors (and how -they did spur things up and make ’em fly!). - -Relicks of kings without number--and queens, too, and princes. - -Marie Antoinette’s shues--I’m glad I didn’t have to walk in ’em, for -though they trod through pleasant, luxurious places at first, they had -to climb up the scaffold. - -Poor creeter! - -[Illustration: There wuz the clothes he wore that he ust to button over -that restless, ambitious heart.] - -The Napoleon Room gin me a sight of emotions, and I didn’t care who see -’em. I jest about cried when I looked on that old flag he kissed in a -sad hour. There wuz the clothes he wore that he ust to button over that -restless, ambitious heart. Yes, and there wuz some of the hair that riz -up over that ambitious brain, that wuz the terror and admiration of all -Europe. - -He used Josephine mean--mean as a dog, and he wuz too high-sperited -and ambitious; but yet what a man, what a man he wuz! Sunthin’ -good and noble must have been in him to make his soldiers love him -so. How they totter up to-day to lay wreaths on the railin’ round -his statute--layin’ at his marble feet the poseys of their hearts’ -devotion, their highest love, and their deepest sorrer. No man not -naterally noble could call forth sech affection in his dependents. - -I have wished a hundred times I could have been there, and neighbored -with him and Josephine, and kinder kep’ ’em together, and quelled him -down some in his ambitious views--things would have been different, no -doubt; I presoom she wouldn’t have died of a broken heart--years in -dyin’, but so much the harder. - -He wouldn’t have had to be shet up in a lonesome island a prisoner, and -all Europe would have fared better. - -But it wuzn’t to be--it wuzn’t to be. - -Pa Smith at that time wuzn’t married, and I wuz--wall, I don’t really -know where I wuz at that time, nor Josiah don’t know; it looked kinder -dubersome and vague about my ever bein’ born at all, and things had to -go on jest as they did. - -Wall, as I have said heretofore, that gallery of the Louvre is full, -full to overflowin’ of the richest treasures of art, as my riz-up brain -and my four weary legs testify--my own two extremities and my Josiah’s -pair on ’em. - -Hisen ached like the toothache, so he sed. - -He didn’t bear his weariness silently and oncomplainin’ly, as I tried -to--no, with groanin’s that couldn’t be uttered hardly he kep’ by my -side through them interminable galleries. - -Adrian asked a sight of questions--a sight of ’em. And when I proposed -to go to the Bois de Boulogne, my poor pardner asked me feelin’ly if in -the name of the gracious Peter I wanted another boy a-traipsin’ at our -heels a-askin’ enough questions to tire out a regiment of soldiers. - -But I explained it all out to him, and we took considerable comfort -there. - -The place wuz more beautiful than tongue could tell. Jest as a French -woman always looks better dressed up than an American or an English -woman, and their cities more brilliant and beautiful, jest so are these -woods fur more beautiful than Jonesville or New York woods. - -Why, jest compare our sugar bush and the woods between Zoar and -Jonesville with these woods of Boulogne--where be they? Further off -than the golden sunset is to the vision of Josiah. - -And the Elysian Fields--tongue would fail to give any idee of what we -see there. - -Notre Dame, perfect indeed duz it look, a-risin’ up with its two towers -a-dwarfin’ the housen about it, though they are sizable ones. - -The Egyptian Obelisk of Luxor, that rises up in the air one hundred -feet, all full of strange writin’, I wish it could speak and tell what -it had seen all through the past centuries--what its old red face must -have looked down on from first to last. - -Curous to even think on. I presoom it must have looked down on -Cleopatra and seen her a-cuttin’ up and a-actin’, a-flirtin’ and -a-carryin’ matters altogether too fur with Antony, Cæsar, etc., etc. - -I wonder if the old obelisk sees any sech doin’s now in Paris in 1894? - -I dare presoom to say she duz. Human nater has always capered sence the -days of Adam and Eve. - -It hain’t never talked on much, but I always blamed Antony jest as -much as I did Cleopatra and Cæsar too; they all ort to been ashamed of -themselves--and sech good wives as they had, too. Aurelia and Calpurnia -wuz real good wimmen, so fur as I ever hearn on. - -Wall, the big fountain, which stood not fur off, are a sight to see and -are ornamented beautifully, besides havin’ immense water priveliges, -and they ort to have, for right here on this spot stood that dretful -thing, the guillotine. - -Oh, what doin’s, what doin’s took place right here! Angels must have -veiled their faces with their feather wings as they flew over the spot -in them dretful days of the French Revolution. Twenty-eight hundred -wuz killed here--had their heads cut right off--trompled on by men -risin’ aginst tyrants, killin’ ’em off; and then they, too, turned into -tyrants, wuz overthrown and killed off like sheep. - -Louis XVI., Charlotte Corday, Marie Antoinette, Danton, -Robespierre--oh, what dretful things to think on! But the murmur of the -water as it spouted up and fell back in murmurs whispered of happier, -more peaceful times. - -In a place where stood the old prison of Bastille, a sile steeped with -the tears and blood of the thousand and thousands of prisoners and -victims, stands Liberty, a-standin’ upon a monument one hundred and -fifty feet high. She always had to wade through blood, and always will, -for all I know. She had a broken chain in one hand--the past is behind -her, the chains are broke. She lifts up a torch in the other hand, its -light streams into the futer. She don’t lay out to have any more sech -deeds of darkness done if she can possibly help it--you can see that by -the looks of her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -NAPOLEON AND OTHER GREAT FRENCHMEN. - - -One day I told Josiah that I must go to see the Invalides. - -And he sez, “You better keep away, Samantha; you may ketch sunthin’.” - -But I explained that I wanted to see the tomb of Napoleon, so he gin -in, and we went there and stayed some time. - -The big gilded dome of this meetin’-house towers up three hundred and -fifty feet, and can be seen all over the city, and would be apt to -keep Napoleon in memory if France wuz inclined to forgit him, which it -hain’t. Here he lays, jest as he wanted to, by the banks of the waters -he thought so much on, and with the French people he loved. - -As you go in, you see under a gold and white canopy the form of our -Lord upon the cross lookin’ down, down into a splendid tomb surrounded -by a great laurel crown and twelve giant statutes of Victories -a-towerin’ up all about it--you see the grave of the Great Conqueror. -My emotions wuz a sight to behold; I couldn’t count ’em, nor did -Josiah. - -All the thoughts I had ever had about the Hero--and they’d been -soarin’ ones and a endless variety on ’em seemin’ly--all seemed to be -crystallized and run together as I stood in that spot. But how could -I tell my feelin’s? I couldn’t no more’n them twelve marble figgers -could, who lifted their grand colossial figgers all round his coffin; -their great noble faces expressed a sight, and so I spoze mine did, but -it would have been jest as vain for me to have told my emotions as it -would for them to open their marble lips and told theirn. - -You might probble thought that they had their own idees about Napoleon, -and so had I. - -He waded through seas of blood and sufferin’, personal sufferin’ as -well, up from obscurity to the topmost pinnacle of worldly glory. He -left achin’, bleedin’ hearts on all sides on him, from Josephine’s down -to the widders and sweethearts of dead soldiers, as he stalked along -with his arms folded, and that old hat of hisen on, and his inscrutable -eyes fixed on the heights, so I spoze; but he loved his country, and -there wuz sunthin’ about the man that drew hearts to him, that turned -grizzled old soldiers into babies when they spoke on him, that made ’em -willin’ to live for him, to die for him. - -[Illustration: With his arms folded, and that old hat of hisen on, and -his inscrutable eyes fixed on the heights.] - -I d’no, I spoze some of that resistless charm rested on the sublime -magnificence of that place, and always will, so fur as I know. - -I felt queer. - -But Martin could not pause long even in this place, and for all I know -all the while we wuz there he wuz a-pricein’ in his mind the marble and -porphry and all the matchless splendor of the tomb, and a-calculatin’ -on how much the money invested there would bring if he had the handlin’ -of it. Anyway, we wuz probble milds and milds apart in our minds, -though the left tab of my mantilly brushed aginst him. - -Josiah observed as we turned away that he wuz “hungry and dog tired.” - -Al Faizi wuz deep in thought, and Alice and Adrian took up in lookin’ -about ’em, and wonderin’ at the grand and solemn magnificence of the -interior. - -One day we went to the cemetery of Père La Chaise. Alice and Al Faizi -and Adrian went with us that day; Martin had got to go to see some big -man or other, who owned a ranch in Montana, in the neighborhood of some -of Martin’s friends. - -Wall, what a quiet, lovely spot that cemetery is, what a sweet place to -rest in when our little life here is rounded by a sleep! - -Over two hundred acres of graves--what glowin’ hopes and joys, what -miseries and despairs found a rest here! Wealth and Poverty, Ambition -and Love, all asleep. - -Rothschild a-droppin’ his money bags as the sleep come on, as well as -the baby who reposes under the simple stun marked--“Our Own Darling -Baby.” - -Hearts ached when he dropped to sleep. - -The Countess Demidoff rests under the costly Mausoleum built above -her. And Rachel, the great actress, wonderful creeter, how she moved -the hearts of the world! But at last the curtain fell and she retired. -No _encore_ from friend or lover can call her before the World’s -footlights agin--no, she has got through actin’; has gone from the -Make-Believe into the Real. - -Talma, too, has gone to sleep in that quiet place, and Béranger and -Racine and Bernardin St. Pierre. - -It seemed almost as though Paul and Virginia ort to be here by him. - -And La Place and Arago. I wonder if they hain’t havin’ a good time -up amongst the stars; I presoom they have discovered lots of new -worlds--hosts of ’em. And General Massena, Marshal Davoust, and Marshal -Ney, the bravest soldier. And Chopin, what music that man must have -hearn by this time--more melogious than he ever dreamt on here! - -And Alice wanted to visit the graves of Abelard and Heloise. They are -restin’ under a canopy, havin’ got past all the tribulations that beset -’em here below. - -Alice wanted to see ’em for Love’s sake--so I spoze. Poor creeters -that thought so much of each other and seemed to be so clost to each -other that nothin’ earthly could separate ’em, and then he a-dyin’ in a -monastery and she a-passin’ away in a nunnery; separated in body, but -united in sperit--so I spoze. - -Wall, their memories are close linked together, anyway, and will walk -down the ages together. - -Al Faizi’s dark eyes dwelt on Alice, and the marble forms of the -lovers, at about the same time and for quite a long spell. - -His look seemed to take ’em all in--Alice’s sweet young beauty and the -idee of the sad fate of the lovers. - -The hull sad story seemed to be writ out in his melancholy, but glowin’ -eyes. - -Poor creeter! - -Wall, Martin and Alice went to lots of places that I hadn’t no idee of -wantin’ to go to--receptions and parties and theatres and sech. And -Martin come home from the theatre with his big feelin’s kinder trompled -down for once, I guess. - -They wouldn’t let him in. - -He probble could have bought out the hull theatre, root and branch, and -not felt it a mite; and to home they would have strewed flowers in his -path up the aisle, if he had jest hinted at it. - -But he wuz turned out here, neck and crop, because he hadn’t a -dress-suit on. - -He felt meachin’ about it, I believe, though he wouldn’t say much. But -the next night they went agin. He put on a coat with pinted tails and -kinder low necked in front, and they let him in quick as a wink. Josiah -said, when I told him about it, that if he had known it he would have -gin Martin the loan of his dressin’-gown. - -Sez he, “Of course that would’ve opened the doors to once. - -“The French love beauty, and that dressin’-gown, when the tossels are -combed out and looped up as they ort to be, would set off any buildin’ -and ornament it.” Sez he, “I wouldn’t lend it on any common occasion, -but Martin has done so much for us I would make the venter.” - -It wouldn’t have been let in, but it showed Josiah’s good sperit, -anyway. - -But, if you’ll believe it, Alice had to leave her bunnet out in the -anty-room and go in bare-headed. - -I wouldn’t have done it for nothin’ in the world--no, you wouldn’t have -ketched me a-reskin’ my bunnet by leavin’ it out-doors. Why, the ribbin -on that bunnet cost twenty-five cents per yard, besides the bunnet -itself, and that wuz only four years old, a-goin’ on five. - -When Alice told me on it I sez, “It is a shame to make wimmen go in -bareheaded, and,” sez I, “what would Paul say? He said it wuz a shame -for wimmen to appear in public without bunnets on.” - -“But I thought,” sez Josiah, “that you always thought Paul wuz -a-meddlin’ with what didn’t concern him, and he’d better kep’ to morals -and let millinery business alone. You’d never let me bring up them -texts.” - -“Wall,” sez I impressively, “there is a time to quote and a time not to -quote. - -“I should have argued with that doorkeeper, anyway, and, if necessary, -brung up the Bible to him.” - -And Alice bought lots of fine things while we were there--her Pa wanted -her to. He bought a lot, too. - -He said that he could git the same things through a dealer he knew in -New York considerable cheaper, “but,” sez he, “it doesn’t have the same -name. Anything brought from Paris is so dreadful distinguished.” - -And I spozed that he wuz in the right on’t, and I felt that I too would -love to branch out and buy sunthin’ that I could tell the neighbors -come right from Paris, France. - -And I beset Josiah to buy me a summer shawl, but he said that he’d seen -my summer shawl for so many years wropped round the form he loved so, -that the idee of seein’ me in any other shawl wuz repugnant to him. - -Wall, then I laid to and tried to git him to buy me a handkerchief pin; -but he said that old cameo that I had on looked so beautiful. He said -so many memories hung round that shell face on it that he couldn’t bear -to see me with any other on. - -And so it wuz with my winter bunnet. Sez he, “Oh, the times I have seen -that bunnet a-frontin’ up to me when I’ve stood by the meetin’-house -door a-waitin’ for you, and it looked so perfectly lovely to me, as I -stood there with cold legs and I ketched sight on it a-hallowin’ your -face round as I see it a-comin’ towards me! No other bunnet could ever -look to me as that did.” - -And so with my shues, and my gloves, and every other article; they wuz -all so dear to him, and he showed his affection to ’em and me so plain -that I couldn’t bear to hurt his feelin’s by gittin’ any new ones. - -[Illustration: A-wipin’ my face on sech genteel towels.] - -But I sez, “I need some towels, and have got to have ’em.” So he give a -reluctant consent, and I swung out and bought two new huckabuck towels, -and I spoze Miss Gowdey and Sister Ganzey will be surprised and sort -of envious to see me a-wipin’ my face on sech genteel towels, brung -from sech a fashionable place, for I lay out to use ’em and not lay ’em -up--for, as the Sammist sez, slightly changed-- - -“You may lay up towels, but how do you know who shall gather ’em?” - -Wall, when the time come for me to leave France I felt bad, for besides -all the reasons I have named, lots of thoughts hovered over the land -and made it dretful interestin’ to me. - -Victor Hugo, brave old exile, trompled on, but like a rich flower, the -tromplin’ brought out their rarest odor. - -Who knows whether we should ever had “Les Miserables” if he had stayed -to home and been made much on? - -Mebby the sentences of that incomparable book, that stun our minds and -hearts, like the quick, sharp echoes of artillery at sea--mebby they -would have been longer drawed out, and less apt to strike the mark, if -he hadn’t been sent into exile. - -And Josephine, and Napoleon, and Louis, and Eugenie, and the poor -young Prince Louis--memories of all on ’em jest walked up and down the -bright, beautiful streets with me, and cast a sort of a melancholy -shadder on the brightness, some like the soft, deep shadders of a -cypress-tree on a clean flower-bed. - -Yes, I had emotions enough while I wuz in France, if that wuz all--I -didn’t suffer for _them_--not at all. - -Martin, from the first to the last, through every country we visited, -drawed up comparisons between ’em and America--to the great advantage -to America. - -He boasted over our country on our tower as eloquent as a Fourth of -July oriter ever did from the wilds back of Loontown. - -I hated to hear him callin’ every other country all to nort, and told -him so. And in the cause of Duty I told him of several things these -countries went ahead of ourn in; but he waved ’em off, and sez he, with -a dignified sort of scorn: - -“Bring up one, if you can.” - -“Wall,” sez I, a-lookin’ round on the inside of my mind, and takin’ -up the first idee that happened to be in sight--“look at that great -society, that seems like the mission of angels, to help relieve the -wants of the wounded and dyin’ on the battle-field--the Red Cross, the -gleam of which, a-fallin’ on the dyin’ soldier, lights up his face -with hope and courage. The foreign nations protect that insigna--they -keep it sacred to this sacred cause; while the Goverment of the United -States allows it to be used on liquor casks, and cigar boxes, and etc., -etc., a-trailin’ its glorious beams in the mud and dirt for a little -money. - -“Why, the noble woman who stands a-holdin’ up the Red Cross, a-tryin’ -to have its pure rays fall only on the victims of war, pestilence, -famine, and other national calamities--she has to see it a-shinin’ jest -as bright on the causes of national crime and shame. How must she feel -to see it go on? - -“Uncle Sam has been urged year after year to protect this insigna, -and I should think that he would feel a good deal as if somebody -wuz a-urgin’ him to not stun meetin’-housen, and whip grandmas -and babies--I should think that he would sink down with shame for -permittin’ sech things to go on. - -“I declare I d’no what that old creeter will do next. I believe he’d -sell the steelyards that Jestice weighs things in, if he could git a -few cents for ’em; and I d’no but he’ll use that bandage of hern that -she wears over her eyes to stop up bung-holes in whiskey barrels; he -seems to be bendin’ his hull mind on helpin’ the liquor traffic. - -[Illustration: “I believe he’d sell the steelyards that Jestice weighs -things in, if he could git a few cents for ’em.”] - -“He tries me dretfully. But mebby he’ll brace up and do right in this -matter of the Red Cross. I mean to tackle him about it, anyway, when I -git a good chance. - -“And then,” sez I, “our country is jest as much behind these European -countries in beauty and art as Josiah’s new wood lot is that he is -jest a-clearin’ off, with stumps and brushwood a-lyin’ on every side, -compared with what that lot would be after centuries of improvements -and culter had smoothed the ground off into velvet lawns, with posey -beds, like rainbows and fountains a-sparklin’ on it, etc., etc. - -“America, to foller out the metafor, has only jest got her giant -trees chopped down--the stumps stand thick, the brushwood lays round -in fallers.” Sez I, “It will take years and years and years to give -America the beauty and perfection these countries have been growin’ -gradual for centuries. - -“We’ll do it, Martin,” sez I; “we’ll git even with ’em, and then go -ahead on ’em--as fur ahead as Lake Superior is bigger than their -inland lakes--” - -“Lakes!” sez Martin scornfully--“ponds, you mean.” - -But I went on in not mindin’ him. - -“Or the St. Lawrence is bigger than the Rhine, but it will take a -long, long time. And then in a lot of other things these countries are -superior to ourn. They train their children better in some of these -countries. Their children have as much agin reverence and respect -for parents and gardeens, and them who are in authority, as American -children have. Why, a English or a German mother would faint away with -horrow to see a lot of American children behave, and boss round their -folks, and act. And then look at--” - -I wuz jest on the pint of bringin’ up a lot more of things in which -these countries excelled ourn, when Martin looked at his watch, and -sed that he must be in a distant part of the city in ten minutes by -the clock; so he went out. I presoom he hated to lose my eloquent and -instructive remarks; but he had to go. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -GERMANY AND BELGIUM. - - -Martin sed he shouldn’t think of travellin’ in Germany, as he had made -a very exhaustive study of the country on a visit he’d paid it some -years before. I knew Alice had been there two years, a-stayin’ with a -Miss Ponsione, a music-teacher, as nigh as I could make out, a kind of -foreign creeter, I guess. - -Sez he, “I gave more exhaustive attention to Germany than to any other -country in Europe, and I would not wish to make a needless expenditure -of time there.” - -Sez I, “Martin, how long a time did you stay in Germany?” - -“Over a week,” sez he. - -Wall, thinkses I, accordin’ to his idees that is considerable of a -time. Alice, of course, didn’t care to stay there long, as she had -stayed there all durin’ her vacations, and took excursions all over the -country with that Miss Ponsione and her folks; there seemed to be a -hull lot of ’em, all girls, as nigh as I could make out. - -And it wuz from her that I learnt that her Pa had fell and sprained -his ankle and hurt his head, and wuz bed-sick all the time he wuz in -Germany; he wuzn’t able to lift his head from the piller, and so I -guess it wuz ruther exhaustin’ study he gin to it. But I wanted to see -the Rhine--I wanted to see “Fair Bingen on the Rhine,” I wanted to like -a dog, and I told Alice so. - -But she said Bingen looked jest about like any other city. And come to -think on’t, I spoze it wuz the homesick longin’ for his own country -that made the “Soldier of the Legion” want to see it so bad, and made -its seenery seem fairer and lovelier, and made its moonlight fairer -and brighter than that which looked down on that fur-off battle-field, -where his body lay, and his homesick sperit a-wanderin’ off to “Fair -Bingen on the Rhine.” - -I eppisoded this to Josiah, and he sez with a sad look on his face--he -wuz awful beat out, and his corns ached fearful--“Yes, that is it, I -feel jest so; I could talk jest as melogious and affectin’ this minute -about ‘Fair Jonesville on the Lyme.’” - -Sez I, “You may feel jest as bad, Josiah, but you can’t write sech -poetry as that.” - -“Whattle you bet?” sez he, a-settin’ the bottle of liniment on the -stand; he’d been tryin’ to irrigate them corns of hisen and quell ’em -down some. “Whattle you bet I can’t?” - -Sez I mildly, “That Soldier of the Legion wuz dyin’ in Algiers.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I’m a-dyin’ in France; what’s the difference?” - -Sez I, “His talk about his distant home is enough to make anybody weep.” - -“Home!” sez he. “Can’t I talk about home? Why,” sez he, “if I should -swing right out into poetry and describe my feelin’s, nobody would look -at that soldier’s verses agin, if I should let myself out and tell the -beauties of Jonesville, and what we’ve been through sence we left its -blessed presinks; why that soldier didn’t begin to know what trouble -wuz. He wuz a single man,” sez he. - -[Illustration: “No attention paid to rumatiz, or meal times, or corns.”] - -I looked coldly at him, and he hastened to add with a deep groan, “Oh, -what hain’t we been through, in verse or out on’t--what hain’t we been -through! two old folks snaked through Europe by a Martin and Fashion; -no attention paid to rumatiz, or meal times, or corns, or anything, and -one of them dum old fools,” sez he impressively, and in a kind of a -rhymin’ axent, “wuz born in Jonesville--‘fair Jonesville on the Lyme.’” - -I wuz born myself pretty nigh the town of Lyme, jest over the line, but -I wouldn’t contend. - -Sez he, “I could make up hull books of poetry on our tower better than -hisen, enough sight.” - -“No you can’t, Josiah,” sez I; “jest think of them beautiful messages -he sent back to them distant friends of hisen; it hain’t in you to -write like that.” - -“Wall, it _is_ in me, mom; and messages! Gracious Peter! couldn’t I -send messages back? Couldn’t I send heart-breakin’ messages to the -children, and Ury, and Philury, and Deacon Henzy, and Uncle Sime -Bentley, and the rest of the meetin’-house bretheren--couldn’t I send -word to ’em-- - - “When they meet and crowd around - The horse-block by the meetin’-house, that dear old talkin’ ground? - -“Couldn’t I warn the hull caboodle on ’em to stay where they be, in -that beautiful, beautiful place; to never traipse a million milds -from home on a tower? Let ’em hear my dyin’ words to stay where they -be. Oh, what volumes I could say to them companions and friends if -I could git holt of their ears once! I wouldn’t want ’em to think I -wuz rambelous and back slid--no, I would want ’em to know I felt like -sayin’ in these last hours that-- - - “‘I am a married man and not afraid to die.’” - -I looked dretful cold at him; I hain’t no idee what he meant, if he -meant anything, and he hastened to add-- - -“If they hain’t dum loonaticks and crazy as loons they’ll stay where -they be,” sez he, in that same rhymin’ axent-- - -“They’ll stay right there in Jonesville, fair Jonesville on the Lyme.” - -Sez I, “That hain’t poetry, Josiah.” - -“Wall, it’s good solid horse sense, the hull of it, and the last line -is poetry.” - -Sez I, “One line don’t make poetry.” I wuz sorry I said it, for he -turned his eyes up towards the ceilin’ in deep thought a minute, and -then he kinder recited out in blank verse, or considerable blank, -though it rhymed some-- - - “A leadin’ man of Jonesville lay dyin’ in--” - -He hesitated for a minute, and seemed to be lookin’ round the room for -a word, and finally his eye fell onto his feet--he had jest drawed his -boot on agin, and I spoze the pain wuz fearful, but it seemed to gin -him an idee--and he begun agin-- - - “A leadin’ man of Jonesville lay dyin’ in his boots, - There wuz dearth of rest and intment, or food, or healin’ roots; - But his pardner sot beside him--” - -Here he gin me a witherin’ look; I spoze I wuz a-smilin’ some. He can’t -write poetry, that man can’t, and mebby I showed my knowledge of the -fact in my mean. - - “His pardner sot beside him, a-jeerin’ at his woe, - And unto her he faintly sed, in axents wan and low, - ‘I’ve a message and a groan or two, to send most any time, - To distant friends in Jonesville, fair Jonesville on the Lyme.’” - -Yes, I wuz sorry enough I mentioned that poem, for before night that -man had a hull string of verses writ off, and he recited ’em to me -anon, or oftener. They went on a-recountin’ all the peace and beauty -of Jonesville, and the delights of stayin’ there and takin’ solid -comfort and happiness, and the tribulations two old folks went through -away from that blissful spot, with their bodies moved round from place -to place on a tower, and the verses most all on ’em ended with these -lines, some like the melancholy accompaniment of a trombone-- - - “And one old fool wuz born in Jonesville, - Fair Jonesville on the Lyme.” - -And some on ’em wuz stronger-- - - “And one dum old fool wuz born in Jonesville, - Fair Jonesville on the Lyme.” - -His axents on these last words wuz affectin’ in the extreme, and he -seemed to think I ort to shed tears when he said ’em, and I didn’t know -but I _had_ ort to, but I wuz in sunthin’ of a hurry a new bindin’ a -petticoat, and I thought I wouldn’t. - -One verse wuz as follers, and I presoom his feelin’s about the delights -of our home wuz powerful as he writ it: - - “Tell Ury and Philury to joyous wash the pan, - To worship all the barn chores, adore the milky can, - The Jerseys, oh, in happier hours I driv ’em through the crick, - Oh, angel calves, oh, did I e’er hit one on ’em with a stick? - The lovely, sweet young critters might kick me time and time, - If I wuz back in Jonesville, fair Jonesville on the Lyme.” - -And there wuz one to Thomas J., and one to Tirzah-- - - “Tell Tirzah Ann that other Pars must comfort her young age,” - -etc., etc., etc., all put down jest as if he wuz in a dyin’ state; no -regularity or symetry in the lines, but powerful in feelin’s. There wuz -more’n twenty-one on ’em. I didn’t hear all on ’em--I wouldn’t, and we -had some words. - -Wall, Martin wuz sot on not goin’ to Germany, till Adrian sed he would -love to see the Rhine. That settled it--the Rhine wuz seen. That man -would go through fire and water if his little pardner jest motioned him -that way. - -And that very fact, I felt, shed a perfect halo round Martin Smith. It -showed that deep down in the nater of the man, all covered up by layers -of pride, worldiness, fashion, ambition, etc., there wuz a fount of -pure water a-springin’; but few indeed could pierce down to it. Alice -can, and Adrian can, but nobody else, so fur as I know; but that love -permeates everything he sez and duz. - -As wuz nateral on French sile, we got to talkin’ about poor young -Prince Louis, the pride of the third Napoleon--the very heart and soul -of his beautiful Ma. His sad fate seemed to impress Adrian dretfully. -He wuz dretful sorry for him, and sed he wuz. Good little creeter! -Any tale of sadness and sorrer found a ready sympathy in his tender, -generous young breast. But Martin seemed to draw a different moral from -it, and sez he, when I wuz a-tellin’ how sorry I wuz for his poor Ma, -sez he-- - -“She ought to have looked ahead, she never ought to have allowed him to -go into such danger, she ought to do as I do. I always surround my boy -with safeguards to keep him out of danger’s way entirely, and therefore -he is safe.” - -But I sez, “Martin, in this world it is hard to tell always where -danger is, and who is really safe.” - -“But I know,” sez he, “because I am right with him. If he was a child -of poor parentage, now, one of the masses, why, then, I grant you I -could not surround him with such safeguards, but as it is Adrian is -perfectly safe.” - -I felt that here it wuz a good place to gin a little hint. Sez I, -“Speakin’ of safeguards, Martin, have you ever put them fenders on that -line of cars of yourn that they wanted you to?” - -“No!” sez he, speakin’ up pretty sharp. - -Sez I, “Don’t you feel that you ort to, for the sake of children whose -Mas and Pas love them jest as well as you do Adrian?” - -But he waived off that idee, sayin’, as usual, that it wuzn’t expected -that he wuz a-goin to spend his life and fortune for the sake of the -children of the masses, who, two thirds on ’em, wuz better off dead -than alive. - -I _hate_ sech talk. - -But he went on to prove by statisticks how they grew up to be -criminals, and paupers, and Coxeyites, and the world wuz well rid on -’em if they died in childhood. - -I _hate_ sech talk. He see my feelin’s, and he went on jest as if -nothin’ had been sed, and repeated that Adrian wuz perfectly safe, and -that his futer wuz assured. - -“Wall,” sez I, “I hope so, for he is a dretful good little boy, and -smart, and I hope he will make a useful man.” - -“There is no other child in the world like him,” sez Martin, “and he -will have a great and successful future. I shall attend to that.” - -“Wall,” I sez agin, “I hope so,” and I truly did. But I felt dubersome -about thinkin’ that Martin had it all in his own hands--this is sech a -queer world, and so kinder surprisin’ and changeable. - -Wall, Martin wuz as good as his word, we didn’t stay long in Germany, -but seein’ that Adrian wanted to see the Rhine, we sot out for it. We -went through Valenciennes on the night train, which Josiah sed wuz -indeed a blessin’, and he sed that Martin, in some things, did show -great tax. - -Sez I, “What do you mean?” - -“Why, you’d been a-wantin’ to git some of that lace of theirn for a -nightcap, or sunthin’, if you hadn’t been sound asleep and a-snorin’.” - -I never snore, and he knows it. He is the one. I may sometimes breathe -a little hard, that’s all. And I sez, willin’ to give him a woond for -the onmerited snore eppisode, sez I-- - -“I can git some in Brussels; their lace wears like iron.” - -He wuz earnest in a minute, deeply earnest. Sez he-- - -“If you knew, Samantha, how becomin’ your nightcaps are, and how -perfectly sweet you look with the plain muslin ruffles round your dear -face, you wouldn’t speak of lace.” - -That “dear” touched my heart. He hadn’t used the adjective in some -time. But I wouldn’t promise not to git any. I think he worried all -the time we wuz in Brussels, but he needn’t. I am a good economizer, I -didn’t lay out to git any--I had above a yard of good Torchon to home. -I didn’t need any lace. - -Godfrey D. Bouillon stood up in plain sight jest as he has been -a-standin’ for a number of years, a-holdin’ up the banner of the Cross. -Good, determined creeter he wuz. - -Wall, we went to see public buildin’s and towers, from them one to -three or four hundred feet high to more megum ones, and galleries of -paintin’s, and parks and statutes; and one little statute rigged up -as a kind of a fountain, I won’t say nothin’ about--the least sed the -soonest mended. But it wuz a shame and a disgrace, and if I’d had my -way the poor little creeter would have had at least a shirt put onto -him, or I would know the reason why. - -A perfect shame to behold! - -In the Museum of Paintings Josiah got real skairt. He wuz kinder -prowlin’ round, and he happened to see a door partly open, and it wuz -nateral, so he sez, to kinder look in. But he shrunk back in extreme -perterbation, and sez he-- - -“By Jehoshaphat, what have I done?” - -Sez I, “What is it, Josiah?” - -Sez he, his face as red as anything, “A woman jest dressin’ -herself--she seems all broke up.” - -[Illustration: “A woman jest dressin’ herself--she seems all broke up.”] - -“Wall,” sez I, “you keep out of there; you stay right by me.” - -“Wall, I lay out to!” he snapped out. - -Wall, I looked in myself. I had no curosity, but I felt that I had -better see if my pardner had done any harm. And I see a young woman all -kinder crouched together a-holdin’ her clothes round her, and I sez-- - -“Mom, you needn’t be afraid, my pardner wouldn’t hurt a hair of your -head.” - -She didn’t move a mite, but jest held her clothes, what she had on, -round her, and looked at me kinder skairt. And I spoke up some louder, -thinkin’ mebby she wuz deef; sez I-- - -“He is a deacon in the Jonesville meetin’-house, mom, and though -fraxious a good deal of the time, a likely man.” - -But jest at this junkter Martin come up behind me, and told me that it -wuz a picter. I wuz dumbfoundered, but so it wuz. The artist, Wiertz -by name, made quite a number considerable like it; dretful curous and -surprisin’, but it is a sight to see ’em. - -The meetin’-house of St. Gudale, with its stained glass winders, wuz -extremely interestin’ to see; it is most a thousand years old, but no -one would mistrust it. It looks fur better than our meetin’-house, that -hain’t over fourteen years old, if it is that. But, then, it cost more. - -Martin and Josiah and Al Faizi driv out to see the battlefield of -Waterloo, only about six milds away. They went in a English coach with -a half a dozen horses, and a bugle a-caracolin’ high and clear. I never -see Josiah in better sperits. - -I would have gone, too, but Alice wuzn’t well, nor Adrian nuther, and I -stayed with ’em; and I wuz glad of a chance to rest my lower legs. - -I spoze they had a number of emotions as they stood on that field -where the Star of Austerlitz sot. I did, where I wuz a-layin’ down or -a-settin’ to home. Truly to a feelin’ heart, who contemplates what -high ambitions tottled over that day, and what powerful interests -wuz involved, they may say truly that they carry the battlefield of -Waterloo in their hearts. - -I thought on’t a sight. I had read what Victor Hugo said about that -battle, and Alfred Tennyson and others had said about the Duke of -Wellington, a-praisin’ him up, and I had numerous feelin’s and -emotions, very powerful ones, indeed, very; but I took good care of the -children all the same. - -There wuz one place in Brussels that I wanted to see as much as -any other place I could look on offen my tower, and that wuz where -Charlotte Brontë had spent those years, those quiet but dretful tragic -years of her life. - -So one day, when we wuz on our way home from some big palace or -monument--Martin wanted to show off before us--I persuaded him to -go a little out of our way to that quiet street, to the kinder -old-fashioned house where the Professor ust to teach school, and some -of his folks live now and keep a small school. They let us in when they -found out that we wuz Americans; truly that name opens all sorts of -foreign doors. - -It wuz a half holiday, and they let us walk through the room where she -ust to set and study, and the old-fashioned garden where she ust to -walk and dream them strange dreams of hern, that afterwards charmed the -world. - -Though the folks here didn’t seem to think of her as I did--no, indeed! -They seemed to kinder blame her for reflectin’ on ’em in her books. -Still they must respect to a certain degree the memory of one that -leads so many from distant lands to their out-of-the-way home, jest to -stand on the floor she trod on; jest to look on the walls that rared up -around that great soul. - -What emotions Charlotte did have here! She had more to bear than most -folks knew of--yes, indeed! - -What wuz that hantin’ grief that rung her soul so that year in -Brussels, that drove her, a devout Protestant, into a Catholic church, -to pour out her agony in confession? Longin’ to give vent to the sorrer -that without that relief wuz mebby a-urgin’ her to forgit it all in the -long quiet. - -Why, a pint bottle full of sweet turned bitter, must have vent gin to -it or else bust. - -Poor creeter! poor, little, lonesome creeter! with her intense power of -lovin’, and her intenser tenderness of conscience. - -Gray old city, never did one tread your streets with more need of heart -pity than she who wuz swept along by her emotions that day into an -alien temple, a strange altar, and a strange worship, seekin’ for rest, -for help to live, which is so much harder than to die. - -I know what the matter wuz--it come to me straight, but I sha’n’t tell -it, it has got to be kep’. - -Wall, I had a large white handkerchief with me, I took it a purpose, -for I thought more’n as likely as not I should be melted into tears -a-meditatin’ on her life and all she had done to delight the world, and -how after her life-long struggles and her brief wedded happiness she -passed away. - -[Illustration: I thought more’n likely I should be melted into tears.] - -But no, this last thought kinder boyed me up--I wuz glad to know that -she lay asleep by the lonely moors of Haworth. Its long purple wastes -hanted by her shade forever, a sleep never to be distracted agin by -her brother Patrick’s actin’ and behavin’, or her pa’s morbid idees and -ways, or her own private heartache. - -Little, small-boneded, great-minded creeter! how often I’ve pictered -her lonesome life in that little village, shet up in oncongenial -surroundin’s, her noble sperit beatin’ agin the bars of her -environment; a-settin’ on lonesome evenin’s in a bare, silent room, -a-pinin’ mebby for a word of sympathy, and the clasp of a comprehendin’ -hand, and the great world a-praisin’ her fur off--_too fur_. - -Or else a-walkin’ up and down in the twilight with her sisters -a-plannin’ them strange stories of theirn. - -And then I come back to the bare walls of the school-room at Brussels, -and I presoomed that on these very bare walls we wuz a-lookin’ on -Charlotte had seen stand out vivid the strong, dark face of Rochester, -and the elfin figger of Jane, Shirley, Caroline, Louis and Robert -Moore, the Professor--yes, indeed, she see _him_, I hain’t a doubt -on’t--and all these wonderful characters of hern, who seemed more real -friends and neighbors to me than them who live under the chimblys I can -see from my own winders to home. - -Good, little, bashful creeter! sech genius as you had the world will -seek a good while for before it finds agin. - -While these thoughts wuz a-goin’ on under my best bunnet, Martin looked -round sort o’ indifferent, and sez he-- - -“Who wuz she, anyway--some kind of a writer?” - -And I sez, “Yes.” - -“Historical or poetical?” sez he. - -And I sez, “Both.” - -I couldn’t bring my emotions down in that place to explain, and I -told the truth, anyway. Historys she wrote that always will be true -as long as hearts beat and suffer. Poetry wuz in ’em, whose great -rythm hants the hearts of ’em whose ears are tuned to understand the -strange melodies. For no two people can ever find the same things in a -book--what inspires you, and thrills your heart almost to bustin’, will -slip over the head and heart of somebody else, and make no impression. - -Curous, hain’t it? - -[Illustration: A-leadin’ Adrian and a-plannin’ sunthin’ with him -relatin’ to a whistle.] - -Wall, we looked round for a long time--Josiah not enjoyin’ himself -a bit, so fur as I could see, but a-leadin’ Adrian and a-plannin’ -sunthin’ with him relatin’ to a whistle he could make out of a stick. - -Alice’s soft eyes held sweetness and compassion, but she owned that -she’d never read the books. - -Al Faizi, too, wuz a stranger to ’em. But he would have enjoyed ’em if -he had--he’s made in jest the right way. - -Wall, Martin wuz in haste, and we left the sacred spot, leavin’ a -little gift, too, in the hands of the old servant who showed us round. - -Antwerp, Düsseldorf, Cologne, how they kinder swim along in my mind -as I think of ’em--picters, picters, church towers, bells, gardens, -steeples, music, stained-glass winders, quiet seenery, grand, -impressive ditto, big carriages, dorgs harnessed up as horses. - -As we noticed the number of these latter, my companion begun to lay on -plans agin. Sez he-- - -“Take our brindle, and she that wuz Submit Tewksbury’s yeller dorg--and -she’d lend her in a minute--and what a team I could rig up with a -little of Ury’s help. I could take you to meetin’ to Jonesville as -easy as nothin’, and how uneek we would look drawed along by a brindle -and yeller dorg-team. It will, perchance, inaugerate a new era in -navigation in Jonesville, and dorg-teams will be in voge. - -“What a sensation we will create amongst the Jonesvillians: you in your -parasol and I in my dressin’-gown, mebby. What a uneek spectacle!” - -“Yes,” sez I, coldly, “when you ketch me a-ridin’ in that way, Josiah -Allen, it will indeed create a sensation, for I shall be no more. It -will be when my corse is senseless and cold.” - -“Oh, shaw! What comfort could I take then, Samantha? It wouldn’t look -very well for me to be a-enjoyin’ myself a-swingin’ out in fashion -then, and I couldn’t wear the dressin’-gown or the tossels, anyway. -It beats all how you love to break up all my plans for astonishin’ -the Jonesvillians. You know well enough that folks when they git back -from European towers always act different--more riz up like, and -reminescent, and astonishin’, and everything. And you frown down all -my plans, every one on ’em”; and he sithed bitterly. But I wouldn’t gin -in to him, for I felt that Samantha and a dorg-team wuz not synonomous -terms; no, fur from it. - -Wall, in Cologne I’d been glad to bought a hull bottle of cologne, but -Josiah said to his mind there wuz nothin’ on earth so sweet as the -smell of caraway. - -I most always do up a little sprig on’t in my handkerchief when I go -to meetin’, to kinder chirk me up in my head some as the minister and -my mind are a-wanderin’ up from the 12thlies to the “Finally, my dear -hearers.” - -“But,” sez I, attacktin’ the weakest jint in his armor, “cologne is so -stylish.” - -“But,” sez he, and I couldn’t scold him for sayin’ it--sez he, “don’t -you remember how the caraway grew amongst the roses in the old front -yard to Mother Smith’s?” Sez he, “You had a sprig of caraway in your -hand the very minute I asked you to be my bride--I had a little snip -on’t in my pocket when I led you to the altar, and a big vase of the -white blows kinder riz up above the June roses like a halo, right there -on the altar.” - -He meant the cherry stand that we stood by, with curly maple draws. - -Sez he, “Oh, them beautiful, holy memories! And then,” sez he, with a -look of deep content, “to think of the cookies you’ve garnished with -it durin’ the beautiful years of our union.” Sez he, “Nothin’ like the -scent of caraway to me.” - -I wuz deeply moved by the sweet and tender memories he invoked. - -Oh, summer hours! oh, old front garden, lit by the settin’ sun -a-shinin’ through the maples! I see it agin, I almost feel the shadders -of the tall lilock bushes; I see the June roses a-shinin’ like rosy -stars above the deep lush grass, and the delicate white tracery of the -caraway a-hoverin’ over ’em like a snowy mist. - -Oh, summer garden! oh, summer hours of life! oh, beauty and bloom, -divine sadness and rapter, and rich promise of the glowin’ futer -a-layin’ fur off in the distance, like the sun in the glowin’ west. - -My Josiah had brung ’em all back to me. What wuz cologne or bergamot in -them rapt hours? - -Men are deep. - -The cathedral is a sight to see. It is called one of the most beautiful -cathedrals in Europe, and they don’t lie about it when they say it -is. It wuz begun eight or nine hundred years ago, and two hundred men -wuz to work at it. I wonder if they are slack. Anyway, I don’t have -any idee when they lay out to finish it. I guess they are to work by -the day. I know jest how they acted when they wuz to work at Josiah’s -horse-barn. I believe it is better to let barns, or cathedrals, or -anything else out by the job. - -Wall, if I should describe jest that one enormous old meetin’-house, -and what we see in it and about it, it would take a book bigger than -Foxe’s “Book of Martyrs.” - -I won’t try, but it wuz a sight, a sight to see--carvin’s, statutes, -picters, towers, canopies, arches, altars, relicks, etc., etc., etc. - -Among the most interestin’ of the relicks wuz the skulls of the three -Wise Men who came to worship the infant Christ. Here their old skulls -wuz shown--they sed they wuz theirn. I d’no, nor Josiah don’t, whether -they wuz the Wise Men or not, and of course it wuz eighteen hundred -years too late to ask ’em. No, wise as they wuz, their bones wuz on a -par with the bones of the ’leven thousand virgins that we see there in -another meetin’-house. - -I d’no as they wuz virgins or not, or wuz massacreed, as they sed. -Martin sed it wuz a perfect fraud. But I d’no either way. Anyway, there -the bones wuz, a real lot of ’em. - -Wall, I guess the hull on us wuz glad to git onto the little steamer -that wuz to take us up the beautiful Rhine. And we found that it wuz -indeed beautiful, though after bein’ on sech intimate terms as I had -been with the St. Lawrence and the Hudson, I wuzn’t a-goin’ to say I -had never seen any river so grand--no, indeed! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -SAMANTHA CLIMBS THE RIGHI. - - -Our noble St. Lawrence could have took the Rhine in if she had been in -need and adopted her, and let her run along with her, a-murmurin’ and -a-babblin’ as children will, and nobody would have been the wiser only -the old Saint herself. - -And the Hudson is jest as beautiful. No old castles on the Rhine tower -up so grand as Nater’s old homesteads, the Palisades, where she has -dwelt, with Majesty, and Strength, and Sublimity, and Beauty for hired -help, for so many centuries, and is a-livin’ there still in the same -old place with the same help. Them who have eyes to see, can see her -there right along day by day, and night by night, with her help all -round her. Sometimes the risin’ and settin’ sun a-gildin’ their calm -brows. And sometimes the big, serene moon a-standin’ over ’em as if -lovin’ to linger with ’em. Their serene forwards a-shinin’ with the -love they have for him--or her (I d’no whether to call the moon a him -or a her. It is so kinder changeable, my first thought wuz to call it a -him). - -But to resoom. Yes, we found the Rhine beautiful. It runs along in my -memory now like a beautiful paneramy right when I’m round the house -a-doin’ up my mornin’s work, or night-times when I wake up ever or -anon or oftener that fair picter onfolds in front of me--the ripplin’ -waters, the shores sometimes smooth and grassy, with orchards and -vineyards; fields of grain, with wimmen a-workin’ in ’em, as well -as men; high rocky shores, with grim old castles perched up on the -cliffs, tree-embowered; anon a wayside shrine, with the image of the -Virgin a-lookin’ calmly on us tired voyagers, or the face of our Lord -hallowin’ the spot, or the baby Christ in his Ma’s arms. It made the -spots where we see ’em more lifted up, and made me feel kinder safer, -though I knew it wuz only some wood and paint and glass it wuz made of. -I spoze it wuz the memories and thoughts they invoked that seemed to -hover over us some like wings. - -How it sweeps onward in my mind--high cliffs three or four hundred feet -high, with a picteresque old castle perched on it; anon a bridge of -boats more’n a thousand feet long! - -Then I see, a-lookin’ onto the paneramy, dog-teams, peasants, soldiers, -beautiful towns, queer little villages, lovely villas, humble cottages, -green grass, wavin’ trees, blue murmurin’ river. Ah, how it floats -along in front of my foretop! Coblentz--Thurnberg--then the high cliff -where the Siren ust to set and sing. I wonder if she sets there now? I -mistrusted she’d kinder moved down into the vineyards. She sings there -a sight, lurin’ the wine lovers right along to destruction. - -Oberwesel, Castle Schonberg, and right acrost, like a faithful old -pardner who has kep’ company for centuries, the towerin’ old walls of -Gutenfels. - -Right under my head-dress or nightcap the seen moves along. Anon I see -the splendid old castle of Rheinstein way up above the river. Ehrenfel, -vineyards, vineyards, with Lurlei hid amongst ’em, whether they believe -it or not, and on the other, fur up, the Mouse Tower, where selfishness -got its pay if it ever did. - -Bingen we found, jest as Alice sed, a quiet little town, its marvellous -beauty born in the homesick longin’ of the soldier who lay dyin’ in -Algiers. - -Johannesburg Castle would be dretful interestin’, standin’ up as it -duz three or four hundred feet high, but the sights and sights of -vineyards all round it made me feel bad, dretful. But I’ve had my say -about that--sirens, etc., etc. What crazy acts would the wine make -these surroundin’ folks do! That wuz a question I couldn’t answer, -nor Josiah. I wish they wouldn’t make so much; I wish they would -stop the mouth of Lurlei with good water, or cold tea, or sunthin’ or -other--she’d act like another creeter if they did. - -But truly I couldn’t make ’em stop by eppisodin’ or allegorin’. - -On, on we went by islands, fortifications, palaces, villages. - -I didn’t want to see Wiesbaden, I didn’t want to see card-playin’ and -gamblin’ goin’ on--no, indeed. - -But I did want to stop at Frankfort-on-the-Main, the birthplace of -Goethe. And in thinkin’ on’t, I mekanically repeated over the words -I’d heard Thomas J. rehearse a number of times--the homesick words of -Mignon-- - - “Knowest thou the land where citron apples bloom, - And oranges like gold in leafy bloom?” - -She wanted to go back home, Mignon did, she wanted to like a dog. - -But Martin sed he didn’t know as anybody had ever made a specialty of -visitin’ the birthplace of Goethe. - -“And as for citron apples,” sez he, “your friend evidently made a -mistake in writing about them; citrons grow on a vine; but,” sez he, -“perhaps Goethe was in the grocer line and was recommending some new -fruit.” - -And I let it go so. Truly the author of “Wilhelm Meister” would have -advised me to let it pass and go by. - -But when Martin learned that Rothschild wuz born there, he sed that if -he had had time he would have loved to visit that hallowed spot. - -Martin thought he would stop and take a kind of a rest at Heidelberg, -and my two legs and my pardner wuz glad enough of the rest--yes, indeed! - -Martin sed that any traveller of note made a pint of visitin’ that -spot, so it wuz on that account, I spoze, that we stopped. He sed he -had seen a number of engravin’s of the place, and I told him I had too. - -We stayed all night to a comfortable tarvern, and had a good supper and -breakfust. Josiah admitted we had, though he sed-- - -“Samantha, it don’t taste like your breakfusts; oh, shall I ever -partake of ’em agin in that blessed, blessed home?” - -He suffers dretfully, that man duz. But I told him that we should soon -be to home agin now, and to bear up. - -Wall, Heidelberg Castle is a sight, a sight to see. All the picters we -see of it in chromos and almanacks and sech don’t give you any idee of -how grand, how vast it is. - -Why, imagine a buildin’ all covered with carvin’s, and towers, -and pinnakles, and with moats, and drawbridges, and dungeons, and -courtyards, and banquet-halls, and decorations of all kinds, as big -as from our house over to Deacon Henzy’s, and back round by Solomon -Bobbettses, and acrost to Seth Shelmadine’s, and so on around the two -cross-roads and back to our house. - -Wall, reader, whether you believe it or not, it covers as much ground -as that, and you well know how much ground that covers. Good land! it -is enough to make anybody’s back ache to think of the days’ work it -took to build it. But, then, it wuzn’t all done all in one job--it wuz -begun a good many hundred years ago. They didn’t shirk their work, them -old carpenters didn’t; the makers of summer hotels could take lessons -of ’em in the matter of walls. It would make one of them paper wall -makers swoon away to think of buildin’ a wall twenty feet thick. - -I wish I had one of them rooms to take round with me summers on my -towers. It would be impossible for the sound of snorers to penetrate -into the apartment where one wuz vainly tryin’ to woo the Goddess of -Sleep. And midnight snickerers would be futile to kill that Goddess -with their giggle-pinted arrers. - -Of course, a big part of this immense buildin’ is in ruins. - -A handsome old stone platform or piazza that them old builders made -half way up the castle walls I did want to see. It had everything it -needed in the way of sculpters, vases, carved seats, etc. And the view, -oh! my poor head-dress, it almost rises now as the paneramy sweeps -through my foretop, it gives sech elevatin’ thoughts and emotions. - -How fur off, how fur off you could see--towns, country, the blue Rhine, -the mountains--oh, my soul! wuz it not a fair seen, a fair seen! - -But the barrel, or, ruther, hogsit, to hold wine in, it jest madded -me to see it. Would you believe it that the very worst old drunkard -you ever see or hearn on would make a hogsit as big as the Jonesville -tarvern to hold his liquor in? - -[Illustration: A hogsit as big as the Jonesville tarvern.] - -Wall, it is, sir, full as big as Seth Widrigses tarvern. I won’t -compare it to a meetin’-house, no, you can’t make me; the idee would be -too sacrilegious to me. - -It wuz as big as Seth Widrigses tarvern, barrooms, parlor, dinin’-room, -bedrooms, ruff and all. It holds two hundred and thirty-six thousand -bottles of wine. - -The idee! it’s a burnin’ shame! How many fights can be shet up in it at -one time--broken hearts, broken heads, murders, etc., etc., etc.! - -I won’t talk about it another minute. - -Wall, Martin sed that he spozed that it would be expected of him to go -and see the Righi. - -(I spozed that he thought that in his high, prominent position in -society he ort to see some of the most riz-up places, so he settled on -that.) - -Mont Blanc he sed he should not endeavor to ascend, which wuz, indeed, -a comfort to me; for how I wuz a-goin’ to git up on that steep, icy -pinnakle with my heft and my rumatiz, to say nothin’ of my umbrell and -my pardner, wuz more’n I knew. But if Martin had put his ultimatum on -that we must go, I knew that we should have to make the venter. - -But he gin up the idee. He is a-gittin’ kinder short-winded himself, -though he don’t own up to it. So we clumb the Righi. We rid up on that. - -Josiah wuz all carried away with the idee of goin’ up that mountain, -because the engine that took us up, instead of bein’ hitched on ahead -to pull us up, wuz tackled on behind a-pushin’ us. - -Sez he, “Samantha, it will be sech a uneek ride. What will Uncle Sime -Bentley say to it, and the other Jonesvillians, when they hear on’t?” - -There it wuz--fashion, fashion and display. From different standpints, -he and Martin wuz jest alike. - -But I knew that Josiah had some reason to be sot up by it, for that way -of goin’ up mountains wuz a American idee at first. - -Josiah took considerable comfort a-goin’ up (owin’ to the feelin’s I -have depictered). But bein’ of sech a restless temperament, he soon -announced that he wuz a-goin’ to git out and walk up. “For,” sez he, “I -want to git there some time to-day, and I hain’t a-goin’ to creep along -like a snail.” - -But I seized him by his vest, and sez I--“Do you set still; it will -tucker you all out to walk up six thousand feet!” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I want to git there some time or ruther.” - -We did indeed go slow, but sure; for in two hours’ time we arrove on -the summit, and wuz ensconsed in a comfortable tarvern, from which, -after Josiah had satisfied his yearnin’s for food, and the rest on us -had refreshed ourselves with some refreshments, we sallied forth to -see the grandeur as well as beauty of Nater; to behold what she can do -when she humps herself, so to speak, and makes glory. - -[Illustration: We did indeed go slow, but sure; for in two hours’ time -we arrove on the summit.] - -Wall, the view from the top of that mountain I can’t never describe. -I stood perfectly spellbounded, and looked fur off down the -mountain-side, and see cities, and villages, and farm-housen, and -sparklin’ streams, and, fur down below, beautiful Lucerne and eight -other lakes. - -And on the off side the chain of snowy Alps a-meltin’ upwards into the -blue of the summer sky, twelve thousand feet high, and on the nigh side -forests, hills, mountains. - -Oh, wuz it not a fair seen--a fair seen! - -I stood perfectly lost and by the side of myself. The grandeur and -beauty of the seen wuz so overwhelmin’ that, entirely onbeknown to -myself, my bunnet had fell backward on my neck, and I stood bareheaded, -jest as men do before a great heroine or hero. (I spoze it is jest -as proper to call the Righi a female as a male; anyway, she stood up -so dretful calm and serene it didn’t seem as if a male could hold -that poster and calmness so early in the mornin’. You know, males are -dretful restless and oneasy early in the mornin’. The work of the day -kinder takes the tuck out of ’em, and they grow more sedater.) - -But, anyway, I stood there bareheaded, jest as anybody ort to before -the great Presence. The on-matchable grandeur of the seen--the sun -a-beatin’ down onnoticed on my gray “crown of glory,” when I hearn a -voice clost beside me, and the words kinder brung me back, for I had -been quite a distance away from the real world of trouble and tourists -and things. - -The voice said--“For the land’s sake! I wouldn’t run the risk you do of -tanning myself all up, for anything in the world.” - -I wuz brung clear down, and I looked round, and I see standin’ clost -to me a female, jedgin’ from her matronly form and her gray hair, that -kinder meandered down on the neck of her ulster behind, of about my own -age, or a little older, mebby. Yes, she wuz probble a number of years -older, and though our hefts wuz jest about alike, she hadn’t got nigh -so noble a figger. - -She had two veils over her face besides a lace one--two braize veils, a -green and a brown one, and carried a big umbrell, histed up to its full -height, the umbrell a-lookin’ firm and decided, as if it calculated to -shet off all the grandeur the braize veils didn’t make out to. - -Sez she, as I slowly turned round and brung my spectacles to bear on -her with a gray flame of wonder and surprise a-shinin’ through each one -on ’em-- - -Sez she, “I wouldn’t tan my nose as you’re tanning yours for worlds -like this.” - -I sez mekanically, “Why, why not tan your nose?” - -“Why, it would detract so from my looks; a nose adds so much to the -looks of a human face,” sez she. - -That sounded reasonable, and I sez, “Yes, that is so; a nose is -necessary, both for beauty and for use; but,” sez I, “at our age a nose -or two more or less, or a little tan on some on ’em hain’t a-goin’ to -either make or break us--they won’t draw much attention,” sez I. “And -even if they did, I expect to enjoy the society of my nose for quite -a number of years yet, on towers and off on ’em, but this seen of -grandeur I’m a-biddin’ good-bye to,” sez I, sadly-- - -“It is hail, and farwell, to me--I never expect to see it agin with -these mortal eyes.” And I looked off on the lovely seen agin with all -the rapter and sadness sech thoughts carry with ’em, when agin my rapt -emotions wuz brung downward by the voice-- - -“Well, I know I wouldn’t run the risk you do of spoiling my complexion -for thousands of worlds like this.” I felt that she needed roustin’ up -and improvin’ upon, and I sez-- - -“Mom, I believe you’d enjoy Nater as much agin, if not more, if you’d -forgit your complexion. Let your nose retire into the background, so to -speak, and open the winders of your soul to the divine influences--look -about and soar away, so to speak. And how you can do that under three -veils and that umbrell is more’n I can tell.” - -Sez she, confidentially, “I am dead tired of seeing things, anyway--I -love to rest my eyeballs.” - -“Then,” sez I, pityin’ly, “what be you up here on the Rigi for? What -made you climb up so fur?” - -“Well,” sez she, “I came with a party of Cook tourists, and you know -just what they are for boasting; I’m not going to have them crow over -me because they have been where I haven’t. Three of them are bed-sick -at the hotel, but they can say with truth that they have been here. Two -of the girls have to wear bandages over their eyes, and can’t see a -thing, but they both have emulative Mas, who are bound that they shan’t -be out-travelled by the rest of the girls, and so they are leading them -round through Europe; blind as bats, but full of the true Cook fervor -of travel.” - -[Illustration: “They have emulative Mas, who are bound that they shan’t -be out-travelled.”] - -“Oh, dear me!” sez I, “how bad it is for ’em!” - -“No; they enjoy it. The doctor says all they need is quiet and rest -to restore their eyesight, and they will have it when this cruel war -is over and they get home. One of them is my own girl,” sez she, in -a burst of confidence, “and I’m out here unknown to the rest; so my -girl has outdone them, so to speak, for of course it is just the same -as if she stood here where her Ma stands, in this be-a-u-ti-ful place, -looking at this magnificent scenery.” - -And she turned her wropped-up face towards the tarvern door, and faced -round towards Josiah. - -But truly she wuzn’t to blame, she couldn’t see through that envelopin’ -drapery. The tarvern might have been a waterfall, and my Josiah a Alp -for all she knew. - -I felt quite curous, but consoled myself a-thinkin’ they wuz -a-follerin’ their own goles, and would all set on ’em when they got -home. - -Wall, it wuz that very afternoon that I heard my first yodellin’--the -melogious cry of the Alpine shepherds to one another. Clear and sweet -it rung through the still air--Ye-o-lo-leo-leo-leo-- - -[Illustration: Ye-o-lo-leo-leo-leo--the melogious cry of the Alpine -shepherds.] - -Melogious as any music you ever hearn, only sort o’ bell-like, and -pecular. And while you stand spellbound and wantin’ to hear it agin -the answer comes, sweet, fur away, clear-- - -Ye-a-oo-ye-ho-oo-- - -It wuz like nothin’ I ever hearn in my life, and yet seemed sort o’ -familar to me, after all, as all true beauty in sight and sound duz -seem to its devotees, he or she. - -Wall, I wuz so lost in my own feelin’s of delight, and so carried away -some distance by ’em, that I clean forgot that I wuz still in the flesh -and still had a earthly pardner by the name of “Josiah.” But I wuz too -soon fetched back to a realizin’ sense on’t. - -For even as the sweet echoes wuz a-floatin’ back from peak to peak -lingerin’ly, as if they wuz loth to let go on ’em, a voice spoke beside -me-- - -“You’ll hear yodellin’ when we git home, Samantha Allen. Hereafter I -shall never say ‘co-boss, co-boss’ to cows, or ‘co-day, co-day’ to -sheep; after this I shall always yodel to ’em. Why,” sez he, “what a -stir it will make in Jonesville! how the inhabitants will gather round -me as I stand on the blackberry hill and yodel acrost to the creek -paster! Why,” sez he, all carried away with the subject, as his nater -is, “mebby I can learn Uncle Sime Bentley, so he can yodel back to me; -mebby,” sez he, growin’ ambitious, “I shall yodel to Sister Bobbett and -she that wuz Submit Tewksbury.” - -Sez I coldly--“Do you confine your yodellin’ to dumb brutes, Josiah, -who hain’t got sensibilities nor feelin’s to be woonded.” - -“Mebby you hain’t willin’ I should yodel to Ury; but I’ll let you know -I shall anyway, mom!” - -“Wall,” sez I, “he is used to your performances; he won’t mind ’em so -much.” - -I knew it wuzn’t best to draw the string too tight; I knew I couldn’t -break up his yodellin’ out to the barn, or round, when I wuzn’t in -sight, and I felt that I would be glad to confine it to dumb brutes, -and Ury, and sech. - -Wall, anon, after passin’ through lovely seens--lovely ones, we found -ourselves on beautiful Lake Lucerne, the most beautiful lake in -Switzerland, or the hull world, for all I know--beautiful, beautiful -for situation it is. You could spend weeks a-admirin’ the lovely views, -and then begin agin and keep it up for years. - -And before long we found ourselves, much to my pardner’s relief, in a -good tarvern with a long Swiss name, that I always forgit, and called -it to myself “The Swizzler,” which wuz jest as good so fur as I wuz -concerned. - -We didn’t stay here long, owin’ to Martin’s pecular views. But we hearn -the organ in the old cathedral, and I wuz carried fur away from myself -into the land of happiness, love, and peace, into the realm--where is -it?--that lays so nigh to us, that a burst of glorious music will sweep -us right into its gates, but so fur off that we hain’t never ketched a -glimpse of its glorified mountains with our nateral eyes. - -Al Faizi wuz carried into that same realm, too, I could see by his -mean, and the rest on ’em wuz carried off wherever their nateral bent -lay--Alice into the land of Love and Hope, Martin into the Stock -Exchange mebby, where the roar of its bulls and bears drownded out the -sound of the organ’s grand, melancholy voice. - -[Illustration: Listening to the organ’s grand, melancholy voice.] - -And Josiah, wall, mebby he wuz a-settin’ agin to a full dinner table -in Jonesville, with Deacon Sypher and Drusilly and some of the other -bretheren and sistern a-hangin’ breathless onto his adventers. - -I d’no, I’ve only guessed at their emotions, but mine wuz a sight to -see as the liquid waves of melody swep’ round me, and swep’ me along -with it. - -And then we see the Lion of Lucerne, a-layin’ there carved out of solid -rock, in memory of the Swiss Guard, who fell defendin’ the Tuilleries -in 1792. It wuz carved by Thorwaldsen, the great Danish sculptor, and -is a noble and impressive sight. There it lay in a beautiful grotto, -with water tricklin’ all round it, some as if the hull country wuz -a-sheddin’ tears over them poor young men that perished in their prime. -It lay stretched out, its hull length of twenty-eight feet, a-holdin’ -in its paws the shield of France and some flower de luce--France is -jest sot on them poseys, and I always liked them myself; I’ve got a big -root of ’em under my bedroom winder at home in Jonesville. - -I thought considerable in our short sojourn at Lucerne about William -Tell, whose exploits with Gessler, apples, etc., took place in that -vicinity (though I’ve hearn tell that Tell hain’t the creeter they tell -on). - -[Illustration: I thought considerable about William Tell and his -exploits with Gessler, apples, etc.] - -But I always loved to read about him, and I always did kinder love to -believe in things that ort to be true, if they hain’t--about liberty, -freedom, and sech. Anyhow, he has got a high chapel built to him--mebby -like some other popular idees, that haint got no greater foundation in -solid truth. - -Though, agin, what is truth? - -Hard question. - -Wall, our way on to Lake Geneva wuz like a dream of glory and grandeur, -full of mountain peaks, green and snow-clad, and flashin’ waterfalls, -with little side dreams of sweet green valleys--“sweet fields arrayed -in livin’ green”--quaint villages, cosey little housen, swift dashin’ -waterways, and gently flowin’ rivers. - -Interlaken, Freiburg, Lausanne, how they look out of the paneramy at me -when I shet my eyes in the Jonesville meetin’-house or anywhere, and -onto the blue lake that Byron writ so much about. - -Alice had beset her Pa to take her to Castle Chillon. And I had -strange feelin’s, I can tell you, as I walked down the road with -Josiah Allen by my side--from Jonesville meetin’-house to the Castle -of Chillon--what a leap! Could Fancy cut up any stranger? I spozed we -should have to take a boat to reach it, and so they did in old times, -but now the water has filled in so, that, like the Israelites, we -passed over dry shod. - -The castle is over a thousand years old. Some say the Lake Dwellers -built it, and in talkin’ about them queer creeters, who dwelt a -thousand years ago in housen built up on posts stuck in the water, I -had another trouble with my too ardent and susceptible pardner. Sez he-- - -“Samantha, what a beautiful way of livin’ that would be--how cool and -pleasant in summer weather, and so handy; no luggin’ in water to fill -the tank, no pumpin’, jest lean right out of the buttery winder and -draw in a pailful, and then how easy to lower the milk in the water to -cool. Why, we could have the milk-room built jest below the surface, -and set the milk pans right into the lake, as it were. What butter we -could make, how it would be sought for! And then the idee of settin’ in -your own back door and fishin’ for pike and sturgeons, draw ’em right -up and land ’em on the kitchen table, not a foot off from the briler. -How convenient! And bathin’ now, you’re always a-tewin’ at me about -it--washin’ my feet, it’s always a job--but now jest cut a little hole -in the bedroom floor, and with a towel there you are. I’ll commence a -house out on our pond the minute I git home for a summer retreat, no -mowin’ door-yards, no fences to keep up, no gates to be onhingin’; why, -I’d renew my age there, Samantha. And then think of the profit in the -extra butter, etc.” - -“How would it be about milkin’ the cows?” sez I. I see he hadn’t -thought of that or anythin’ else practical, but he’d been jest carried -away by the novel and the new. - -But he wouldn’t give in, men have such doggy obstinacy. Sez he-- - -“Why, learn ’em to swim; begin when they’re yearlin’s, learn ’em to -strike right out and swim up to the milk-house, hitch ’em to the post, -and jest set in the back door and milk ’em.” - -“Under water?” sez I; “milk under water?” - -I see he wuz gittin’ sick of the idee--sick as a dog, but he sez-- - -“Yes, milk ’em under the water in rubber bags, jest as Ezekiel did, and -Malachi, and all the rest on ’em.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “you’ll keep bachelder’s hall then, and cook your own -vittles and make your own butter for all of me. I hain’t a-goin’ into -any sech enterprise.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “that don’t surprise me at all; I never yet got up a -uneek idee but what you backened it all you could.” - -Wall, we hung round here for some time, and I meditated on how the -prisoners must have felt, condemned to - - “Fetters and the damp vault’s dayless gloom.” - -And as I see how they had wore the very stuns away, a-pacin’ back and -forth in their narrer bounds like caged lions, I felt like sayin’ with -Byron: - - “May none these marks efface, - For they appeal from tyranny to God.” - -And it wuz with quite saddened emotions that we wended our way back to -the tarvern Byron. - -I see Al Faizi wuz dretful mournful-lookin’. It always affected that -good creeter to see how Truth and Liberty and Jestice have always been -trompled on by Error and Ignorance all through the ages and in all -countries, and always would, so fur as I could tell. - -Geneva! Chamouni, how they glide past the roused eye of my mind, that -don’t need spectacles--no, indeed! For never on earth, it seems to -me, was there sech grandeur of seenery as wuz here in Chamouni. And -the hull world seemed to have found it out, for folks from all the -countries of the earth seemed to be represented here. - -Here we wuz set down like little grains of sand in a high pine forest, -and that don’t carry out my idee at all, for what is a pine-tree -compared to Mont Blanc--grand old giant standin’ up there lookin’ down -on the hull world, and seemin’ to be kinder guardin’ it. I believe that -even Martin’s pride wuz kinder crumpled down a-beholdin’ that wonder -and glory. - -On, on we went by wild and magnificent seenery, by sweet sheltered -spots, castles, farm-housen, bridges, waterfalls, valleys, towerin’ -hills, lofty mountains, etc., etc. - -Martigny--the wonderful Rhone valley, the magnificence of the Simplon -Road, straight up the mountain-side, under waterfalls, over wild -waters, along abysses, through tunnels seemin’ly milds long, openin’ -out into new seens of beauty--oh, what a time, what a time! - -How many bridges did we cross? Josiah said, groanin’, “Over ten -thousand.” But I believe there wuz only six hundred odd; but what would -Miss Gowdey and Sister Bobbett think of that, who have always looked -with some or at the thought of goin’ to North Loontown, because they -had to pass over three bridges to git there, and go up a considerable -steep hill? What would these sistern do under the circumstances that -I wuz placed in? So my almost crazed but riz-up brain would wildly -question me anon or oftener. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -MILAN, GENOA, VENICE. - - -Wall, at last, under the fosterin’ care of Martin, we wuz conveyed -along into Italy and put up to a place called Milan. But one memory -of our way thither stands out as plain in my mind as our centre-table -duz in my parlor; it is of beautiful Lake Maggiore. A more beautiful -piece of water I don’t believe moistens this old earth. Them sweet -blue waters, with lovely Isola Bella terraced into hite after hite of -verdure and beauty, and other islands a-standin’ out like clear blue -stars in a clear blue sky, and the Italians in their picteresque dress, -priests, peasants, etc., etc., wuz a seen of enchantment, and even -Martin looked kindly on it, and admitted that it looked well. “But,” -sez he-- - -“What is it compared to our own Thousand Islands? Why, nothing at all. -Our own St. Lawrence would take in the whole of Lake Maggiore at one -mouthful, and not know the difference.” - -Sez I, “Martin, don’t run down the beauty of another country a-praisin’ -up your own.” - -“Well,” sez he, “do you find such perfection here as in our own -country?” - -Sez I reminescently, “I find better telegraph poles.” Sez I, “Think of -the clear granite shafts, good enough for monuments, and then think of -the humbly, crooked wooden poles that disfigger our American landscape.” - -“Well,” sez he, “you don’t often find them here.” - -Josiah sed if I wuz so bent on havin’ stun telegraph poles, he and Ury -could build up one out of loose stuns in front of the house. Sez he, -“We might make it sort of a monument shape, and Ury might kinder block -out my figger on top.” - -Sez I, “I guess it would be a work of art if Ury did it.” - -“Wall,” sez he, “I might have a tin-type or sunthin’ fixed on, or a -lock of my hair. It would be real uneek, and my fellow-townsmen would -think the world on’t.” - -Mebby he’ll forgit the idee, and mebby I’ll see trouble out on’t yet. - -Wall, in Milan our first move wuz, of course, to see the cathedral. -I’d seen so many picters on’t that it looked as familar as Betsey -Bobbettses liniment, only fur grander and more impressive lookin’. - -Yes, after lookin’ at that wonderful buildin’ on the outside and -inside, I felt as if I wuz a heathen creeter who had never seen a -cathedral or a meetin’-house in my life. Why, to make it clear to -everybody jest how grand and extensive it is, I will say that if the -pine woods on the hill back of Deacon Henzy’s wuz all turned into -pinnakles and monuments and arches, and every pine needle on ’em wuz -ornaments of delicate tracery and carvin’ and beautiful design, it -could not be more impressive, and to anybody who has seen them woods -that is sufficient. It is a dream to remember in still nights when you -lay on your piller and can’t sleep. I think on’t time and time agin. -Why, it is so big that you could carry on a Stock Exchange meetin’ at -one end and a funeral at the other, and not interfere with each other -in the least; you couldn’t hear the bulls and bears yellin’ or the -mourners a-weepin’ and wailin’, not at all. - -And you climb up five hundred steps to the top, and look down on all -the beauty and glory of the world--it is a sight, a sight. - -Wall, Martin sed that he must make all haste possible a-travellin’ -through Italy, as business wuz a-callin’ him home, but he must go to -Genoa, the birthplace of Columbus. Sez he, “Of course, considering what -he discovered and where he was of late celebrated, that is by far the -most important place in Europe.” - -Wall, I wuz glad enough to visit the birthplace of that good, misused -creeter. So we anon found ourselves in Genoa, the Superb, as some call -it, and in good rooms in a big, comfortable tarvern. - -The first thing we went to visit wuz the statute of Columbus. It -towers up, a poem in white marble; and in a settin’ poster, on the -four sides on’t, are Religion, Gography, Strength, and Wisdom, and all -round ’em and between ’em are carved the leadin’ events of Columbuses -life. Every one of them symbols carved out there--Religion, Strength, -etc.--Christopher had, and the world realizes it at last. - -I should think the world would have been ashamed of itself after -picterin’ out his grand doin’s, his discoveries in the New World, to -have sculped him out in chains; it wuz a burnin’ shame, but his memory -is a-walkin’ down through the ages now free and soarin’, no chains on -it--no, indeed! - -But, poor creeter! how he would have enjoyed bein’ made sunthin’ on, -and used well while he wuz here in the body! How he would have enjoyed -havin’ enough to eat, and hull clothes! - -But sech is life. - -Wall, Martin renewed his strength a-lookin’ on Columbuses statute -and a-realizin’ what it wuz he discovered and how his discovery is -a-branchin’ out and spreadin’ itself. He felt well. - -Right acrost from the statute stands a big house, which has writ on it, -“Christopher Columbus Discovered America.” Martin didn’t need to be -told on’t--no, indeed! - -As nigh as we could make out, Columbus wuz born in that house. They -showed us the very room where he wuz born; but my lofty emotions in -viewin’ the spot wuz quelled down with the thought that he wuz born in -seven or eight other places. Poor creeter! what a time he did have from -first to last! - -In the Municipal Palace, among other curous and valuable relicks, we -see lots of relicks of Columbus--amongst ’em some autograph letters -that he had his own hand on. - -Josiah sez, “He’s some like you, Samantha--ducks’ tracks is plain -readin’ compared to ’em.” - -I looked coldly at him, but did not dane to argy. - -In a glass case, amongst lots of other things, we see the violin of -Paganini, the greatest violinist that ever lived. - -He, too, wuz a discoverer; divine realms of melody wuz brung to view by -his heavenly vision. He wafted his hearers into that realm on the flood -of melody. I took sights of comfort a-lookin’ at that old fiddle. - -[Illustration: Divine realms of melody wuz brung to view by his -heavenly vision.] - -When my thoughts git started back to Italy, as thoughts will, no matter -where your body is--a-settin’ in the meetin’-house or out to the barn -or anywhere--they always linger sort o’ lovin’ly on Venice--Venice that -stands out in my mind all by itself amongst cities, jest as prominent -as Thomas J. duz amongst boys. - -My Josiah wuz dumbfoundered when we emerged from the depot to think -that he had got to go to our tarvern in a boat; but so it wuz. - -Then he demurred agin about the convenience we wuz a-goin’ in. - -He sez, “Dum it all, I hain’t a-goin’ to be drawed by a hearse whilst I -am alive!” - -But I soothed him down by pintin’ out that the boats wuz all painted -black. - -But wuzn’t it a curous sensation to drive along on streets of water, -instead of good, honest dirt. Bein’ kinder skairy of water, I whispered -to Josiah-- - -“As bad as our roads in Jonesville be durin’ the worst of Spring mud, -I’d ruther navigate ’em with our wheels up to the hubs in mud than to -ride down these water streets.” - -Sez he, “Samantha, we didn’t realize our priveliges then, we made light -on ’em.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “you used language on them roads that you wouldn’t use -now if you wuz set back on em.” - -“I didn’t talk any worse than the rest of the Jonesvillians!” he -snapped out. “And how these streets smell--dead cats and pollywogs!” -sez he, turnin’ up his nose real high. - -“Wall,” sez I, “less count over our blessin’s. We can hold our noses -while we are a-countin’,” sez I. “Look at them towerin’ marble palaces; -see the carvin’ on them tall pinnakles and the arched winders and the -fretted ruffs,” sez I. - -“The ruffs don’t fret no worse than my mind duz!” sez he. “Oh,” he -whispered with a low groan, “shall we ever see the cliffs of Jonesville -once more!” - -“Don’t give up, Josiah,” sez I, “here right in the dream of the world, -Venice, the beautiful.” - -Sez Josiah, “I hearn there wuz a sayin’, ‘See Venice and die,’ and I -can tell ’em that if this smell keeps on, and if the dum muskeeters -keeps on a-bitin’, there’s one man who will foller their advice.” - -[Illustration: “If this smell keeps on, and the dum muskeeters keeps on -a-bitin’, one man will ‘see Venice and die.’”] - -Sez I, “They hain’t muskeeters, they’re nats, and it wuz Naples that -wuz said on; and,” sez I, wantin’ to roust him up, “they say Venice is -perfectly beautiful by moonlight.” - -That kinder nerved him up, bad as he felt--he seemed to look forrered -to it, and after a good meal and a good rest, when we did set off by -moonlight, hirin’ a gondola jest as we would a express wagon to home, -he admitted the beauty of the seen. - -And it wuz like a journey through fairyland. The long, glassy streets, -all lit up by lights from the tall, white palaces on each side on us, -and by the lanterns of the passin’ gondoliers; the soft, sweet voices -of the gondoliers as they called out to each other in their melogious -Southern tongue; the glidin’ boats movin’ past us like shadder craft, -with the handsome, graceful forms of the gondoliers a-drivin’ ’em, and -anon or oftener the sweet strains of a guitar, and some divine voice in -song; and the admirin’ surprise when you’d turn a corner and look down -another street of beauty, differin’ in form of glory. - -Oh, it wuz a seen to be remembered as long as Memory sets up on her -high-chair under my foretop! And what hantin’ thoughts kep’ company -with me and filled the gondola to overflowin’! I seemed to see Titian -with his artist’s eyes and inspired pencil--the old Doges with their -embroidered and jewelled robes--sad-eyed Beatrice Cenci, Antonio, -Shylock, Wise-eyed Portia--I seemed to hear her sayin’, - - “The quality of mercy is not strained, - It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven.... - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.” - -The gondola wuz crowded by the fantom crowds that set round me onheeded -by my Josiah, jest as sperit crowds may be cramped all round onbeknown -to us. - -Wall, I expected that about the most interestin’ thing in Venice to -me would be the Bridge of Sighs, that stands, as Byron so eloquently -observes, with a palace on the nigh side, and a prison on the off side -(I may not have got the exact words, but it is the same meanin’). And I -had more emotions there than I could count, as I looked at it. - -Al Faizi wuz dretful interested in the old prison and dungeons and in -the relicks of the infamous Council of Ten. - -He writ pages in that book of hisen, and didn’t come no more nigh -depicterin’ all their atrocities and abominations than one drop of -water would to exhaustin’ the ocean. - -In the palaces we see the height of luxury and richness of beauty. In -the prisons and dungeons we can see the black depths of terror and -cruelty of the time when the Council of Ten ruled Venice. - -The Doge’s palace is a dream of magnificence. You look up the Giant’s -Staircase, way up--up to the great statutes of Mars and Neptune, where -them mean creeters wuz crowned--the Doges, I mean. And then you can’t -help meditatin’ that whilst they clumb to the very top of magnificence, -they didn’t do well, they didn’t die peaceable in their beds, none on -’em. - -No, they wuz pizened, or had their heads cut off, or sunthin’ or other, -that interfered with their comfort. - -I wouldn’t want Josiah to be a Doge--not if he could be jest as well -as not. No, Dogein’ seemed to be resky business in them days, and I -presoom that it would be now. - -And then they wuz so awful mean some on ’em--jest read what they done, -it’s enough to skair you to death almost. I had dretful emotions as -I looked at that long table where the Ten ust to set in silence, and -condemn men and wimmen to death. - -They ort to be ashamed of themselves. - -And then the Lion’s Mouth, where the papers accusin’ folks wuz dropped -by the people. The paper dropped down into a chest so’s the wicked old -Ten could git holt of ’em. - -Miserable creeters! I’d love to gin ’em a piece of my mind. - -But Josiah wuz all took up with the idee; sez he-- - -“How convenient, how charmin’ it would be to have a complainin’ box -rigged up in the barn over the manger or by the side of the haymow, so -when I wanted to complain of Ury I wouldn’t have to jaw him and have -him sass back! How much easier it would be than jawin’! He’d like it -better, too. And you can have one, Samantha, to complain of Philury; -you could jest drop ’em in, and then you wouldn’t have to tell ’em -over to me when she wuz wasteful or slack, or acted. Jest put ’em down -on paper, drop ’em into the box, and nobody but Philury would be the -wiser.” - -Sez I, “Do you spoze I’m a-goin’ to be feelin’ round writin’ complaints -while a batch of cookies are bein’ spilte, or a lot of good vittles -throwed to the hens? No, indeed! My tongue is good yet, and active.” - -“Yes, indeed, it is!” sez he with a deep groan (I d’no what he meant by -it). - -“But,” sez he, “it would be good for it to rest a spell, and it would -be a good thing for me, anyway, specially nights when I wuz sleepy,” -and agin he sighed (he acted like a fool). - -“And if you say so,” sez he, “we could have one rigged up together for -both on us--we ort to be able to complain of our hired man and woman -in one complainin’ box. We might have it over our back door, or on the -smoke-house.” - -But I waived off his idee, and mebby he gin it up, and mebby, agin, -he’ll try to rig up some contrivance that won’t do no good, and take -time and money. - -Another one of the queer things them old Doges ust to do wuz to marry -the Adriatic to the city at a certain time every year. - -What did they want to marry water for? - -But Josiah wuz all worked up with the idee, when he hearn us a-talkin’ -about it, and about the magnificent ceremonies they went through with -at the weddin’. - -Sez he, “How uneek it would be for me to marry the creek to Jonesville -and perform the ceremony out to our mill-dam! It would be beautiful, -and it would be as cheap as dirt, too; Ury could fix up a raft, and I -could take one of the curtain rings out of the spare bedroom to wed it -with.” - -“What do you want to be weddin’ the creek for?” sez I coldly. - -“Oh, for fashion,” sez he--“style. Old-fashioned things are so stylish -now,” sez he. “You know how them old, long, black clocks, humbly -things in the first on’t as they could be--you know how they’re set -up in the boodores of luxury now, a-lookin’ like a coffin on end. And -spinnin’-wheels and sech that our grandmas ust to hustle out of the -room, if company come, now they’re sot up on velvet carpets, and made -sights on. And this manoover would be dretful stylish. Oh, how the -Jonesville bridge would be crowded! how the Jonesvillians would look on -in admiration to see the sight! - -“Of course I should wear my dressin’-gown. The public has never had a -chance to see it on me yet, you have always been so sot on keepin’ me -to home in it. This would be a very agreeable treat to have on Fourth -of Julys, or any national holiday, and I could carry it out perfectly -and dog cheap, with a little of Ury’s help.” - -But I sot my foot right down on the idee to once. Sez I, “It looks -silly as anything in them wicked old Doges, and you hain’t a-goin’ to -import any of their tricks into Jonesville. Next thing I’d know you’d -have a inquisition a-goin’ on, and a secret tribunal of Ten.” - -[Illustration: “Next thing I’d know you’d have a inquisition a-goin’ -on.”] - -“I’d like it first-rate,” sez he, “if I could be the 10. I’d like to -shake some of the sins and foolishness out of Brother Gowdey and Deacon -Henzy,” sez he, “and bring ’em into my way of thinkin’.” - -“There it is!” sez I. “Intolerance, bigotry, persecution, how fresh -they be to-day in the human heart! Jest as ready to spring up and act -in 1895 as a thousand years ago.” - -“Wall, I hain’t said I wuz a-goin’ to start it up agin,” sez he, kinder -cross like; “I only spoke on’t.” - -I expected trials when I sot out to take my pardner through Europe, and -I wuzn’t dissapinted in it. But if it hadn’t been for his ambition for -display, and his bein’ carried away by novelties, and his appetite, he -would have acted real well. But, anyway, act or not, he’s the one man -in the world for me, and visey versey. - -But, as I wuz a-sayin’, the palaces of them old Doges rousted lots of -emotions in my brain, and the fantoms of their victims seemed to hover -round them old palaces as thick as the pigeons that come with a rush of -wing down into the great square of St. Mark at jest two o’clock, where -they are fed by order of the government. - -The grand old Church of St. Mark interested me dretfully. It is built -in the form of a Greek cross, with a big dome in the centre, and full, -full to overflowin’ with glory of mosaic, precious stuns, picters, -monuments, altars, pillars, colenades, gold, silver, and splendor of -all sorts. - -Josiah sez to me, “Our Jonesville meetin’-house wouldn’t show off much -compared to this.” - -But I wuz some consoled in this by thinkin’ that if our meetin’-house -wuzn’t so gorgeous, there wuz jest as big a lack of beggars and poor -people of all kinds a-hoverin’ on the outside on’t, and sez I-- - -“If they should sell off some of their costly things and try to improve -the condition of these poor beggars, they would raise themselves as -much as twenty-five cents in my estimation, and I d’no but more.” - -And Josiah sez, “It is hard to make a rotten string stand up -straight--it is hard to brace up laziness, and dissipation, and -improvidence, and make anything on’t.” - -I couldn’t dispute him, nor didn’t try to. But I did love to prowl -round in those old meetin’-housen and see the wealth of interestin’ -things in ’em. - -In the Church of Santa Maria d’Frari, the beautiful monument to -Titian took my admirin’ interest. It has angels, lions, all sorts of -sculptered figgers in elegant carvin’, and beautiful bas-reliefs of -his greatest works--“The Assumption,” “Martyrdom of St. Lawrence,” and -“Peter Martyr.” - -Then the monument to Canova is a sight to see in its beauty. Wall, he -ort to had it; he did enough work to make the world more beautiful. - -In the Academy of Fine Arts we see sech sights of beautiful picters -that my brain almost reels now, a-tryin’ to recall ’em. But Titian’s -“Assumption of the Virgin” is one that you can’t forgit, no matter how -clost other idees press around it and squooze aginst it. - -Great picters by Paul Veronese, Tintoretto, and other great -masters--the walls are jest seens of beauty. - -I wouldn’t want it told on--it ort to be kep’, but Josiah told me right -there in that sacred spot, that he wuz sick of Madonnas--sick as a -snipe. - -But I told him that I wouldn’t own up to it, if I wuz. - -And he said he didn’t care who hearn him. - -I wuz kinder sick on ’em myself, but didn’t want to own up to it -right there in a meetin’-house. But, truly, anybody will see enough -Holy Families, Virgins, Madonnas, etc., to last ’em a long life, -unless they’re extravagantly fond of ’em. And every artist seems to -have painted his own idees of the Holy Mother--mebby from his own -sweetheart; anyway, no two of ’em are alike. Most of ’em are real fat -and healthy lookin’. I never spozed she enjoyed sech good health as -they depicter; I thought she wuz more kinder spindlin’ lookin’. And -then I imagined there wuz a ineffible look to the face of the Mother of -our Lord, sech, as it seems to me, they hain’t none of ’em ketched. -The Mother of our Lord! What a face she ort to have to fit my idees -of her! It’s resky work, paintin’ divine things. I wouldn’t want to -undertake it, or have Josiah. Now I see the picter of the Deity once -painted with a hat on. - -I didn’t love to see it. - -Why, even to Moses the Great Presence wuz surrounded by a flame of -fire; and St. Paul fell to the ground, struck by the blindin’ glory -on’t, and he wuz never able to put in mortal words the sights he -see--“Whether in the body or out of the body, God knoweth.” - -He wuz reverent. And it don’t seem quite the thing to try to paint -ineffible glories with chrome yeller and madder. Howsumever, I spoze -they meant well. - -And, indeed, some of the picters we see as we journeyed through the -Italian cities are all placed in rows around the inside of my brain, -and can’t never be moved from there--no, the strings must break down -first that they hang up on. - -In Florence the Beautiful, oh, the acres and acres and acres of -beauty that I walked through, full to overflowin’ with beauty and -glorious conceptions and the white splendor of marble poems! The -works of Michael Angelo I hain’t a-goin’ to forgit them--no, indeed! -nor Lorenzo Ghiberti, nor the picters by Titian, Raphael, Rembrandt, -Tintoretto, Veronese, Van Dyke, Rubens, etc., etc., etc., and so forth, -and so forth, and so on, and so on. - -I walked through the long picter galleries with my brain and heart all -rousted up, and enjoyin’ themselves the best that ever wuz, and my -legs all wore out and achin’ bad. And Josiah groanin’ audibly by my -side. And Martin patronizin’ the marvels of ancient and modern art, and -havin’ a good time. Al Faizi with his hat off, reverent and devout in -the presence of so much divine beauty. And Alice, I spoze, thinkin’ of -the past and the futer, and Adrian eatin’ candy, etc. - -Time fails to tell what we see. It seems to me it would be easier to -tell what we didn’t see; I guess it wouldn’t take so long, but I will -desist. - -But a few memories stand out shinin’ amidst the bewilderin’ maze. One -of ’em is standin’ in the cell of Savonarola, that noble creeter, -raised up to the pinnakle of saintship by the fickle populace, who -knelt and worshipped him, and then so soon crucified him. And he all -the time a-keepin’ on stiddy, jest as good and noble and riz up as he -could be. Yes, his last words to his persecutors gin a good idee on -him-- - -“You can turn me out of earthly meeting-houses, but you can’t keep me -out of the Heavenly one.” - -I may not have used the same words he did, but it wuz to that effect. -I had a sight of emotions as I stood in that narrer place that once -confined the form of that kingly creeter. - -And then the tomb of Galileo. I always liked him the best that ever -wuz. He wuz also persecuted for knowin’ things that them round him -didn’t know, and thinkin’ thoughts and seein’ sights that they didn’t. -And in order to git along with ’em round him, he had to promise to -stop teachin’ the truth. The Majority had to be appeased by the old -Ignorance. It has to now, time and agin. But he kep’ on a-sayin’ to -himself, and out loud, when he got a chance to--“The world duz move.” -Men and wimmen to-day, who feel some as Galileo about men’s and -wimmen’s rights--licenses, the higher spiritual knowledge--they keep on -a-sayin’ all the time, every time that they can git a chance to edge -a word in between Ignorance and Bigotry and shaky-kneed Custom, who -stand all shackled together with mouldy old chains of prejudice, every -time they can git a openin’ between these tattlin’, but hard-lived old -creeters, they keep on a-sayin’--“The world _duz_ move.” - -Folks will fall in with ’em after a time, jest as they fell in with -the idees of Galileo; now they persecute ’em. - -But more interestin’ to me than the glories and marvels of the Medician -Chapel, the Pitti and Uffizi galleries, the Boboli Gardens, the -monument to Dante (smart creeter _he_ wuz, and went through a sight -from first to last; he and she both--Beatrice, I mean)-- - -But of fur more interest to me it wuz to stand in the house where -the slender little English woman dwelt while her soul was slightly -imprisoned in her frail body, while she held “The poet’s star-tuned -harp to sweep.” And where at last “God struck a silence through it all, -and gave to His beloved sleep.” - - “Sleep, sweet belovéd, we sometimes say, - Yet have no tune to charm away - Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep; - But never doleful dream again - Shall break their happy slumber when - He giveth His belovéd sleep.” - -Yes, she sleeps well now. All the melancholy and charm of Italy, all -its magnificence, all of its splendor, its ruins--all seem to be -centred in that one little room. I had emotions there that it hain’t no -use dwellin’ on. - -Figgers seemed to start up and bagon to me from every side. Aurora -Leigh, with her sad, sweet smile, stood in front of me with that lover -of hern; the Portuguese lovers, with hearts of fire and dew too; the -“Poet Mother” holdin’ her two boys to her heart, knit to that heart -by ties of iron; Nino and Guido, little babies, teaching ’em to--“Say -_first_ the word country,” after that mother and love. Then I see her -alone in the house--_alone_. - -“God, how the house feels!” - -While Guido and Nino lay dead, shot down by the balls of the -enemy--“One by the East Sea and by the West”--then she remembered that -she had learnt ’em to say _first_ the word “country,” puttin’ it before -“mother and home.” - -She wuz kinder sorry she’d done it at first, I guess. She forgot Glory -and Patriotism, for this woman--this “Who was agonized here, the East -Sea and West Sea rhymed on in her head, forever instead.” - -She couldn’t think of anything else, only the mightiness of human love -and grief. - -I don’t blame her; I should felt jest so myself if it had been Thomas -Jefferson shot down. What would the glory of Jonesville be to me, if -his bright, understandin’, affectionate eyes wuz closed in death? I, -too, should think that everything else wuz “imbecile, hewin’ out roads -to a wall.” - -How black that wall would look to me! - -And then the cry of the Human, how it rung in my ears-- - - “Be pitiful, O God!” - -Yes, indeed, in how many crysises have I felt the hite and the depth of -that cry! - -I had powerful emotions, powerful, and sights of ’em--so did Al Faizi. -He jest doted on Mrs. Browning’s poetry, and he sot a good deal of -store by the poetry of her relict--her widderer. And Robert duz write -first-rate, but pretty deep, some on ’em. I’ve grown real riz up and -breathless a-hearin’ Thomas J. read about “How they brought the good -news from Ghent to Aix.” And I love to hear Thomas J. read about the -“Lost Leader,” and beautiful “Evelyn Hope,” and etc., etc. But, on the -hull, I sot more store by the poems of his wife. - -But, as I say, I always respected and admired Elizabeth’s widderer. He -insisted on marryin’ the woman he loved, no matter how poor health she -enjoyed. I presoom his folks objected and thought that Robert would do -better to marry a woman that wuz enjoyin’ better health. But he never -thought of doctors’ bills or poultices--things that fill up littler -minds--no, indeed! nor she didn’t either. They felt only the supreme -joy of congenial minds and hearts, and love that lifts the soul up to -the divinest hites mortals can ever stand up on. - -She says, and it seems almost like liftin’ a veil before the Holy of -Holys, and as if I ortn’t to speak of it, but I will venter-- - -She sez: - - “First time he kissed me, he but kissed - This hand wherewith I write, - And ever since it grew more fair and white, - Slow to world greetings, quick with its Oh, list! - When the angels speak.” - -How the words fell from her innocent soul, and how they must always -reach the same place in ’em who hear ’em, if they have got souls! - -Yes, in readin’ her poetry you can see that, as she sed about the dead -baby and its sorrerin’ ma, that “The crystal bars shine faint between -the souls of child and mother.” You can see that the veil wuz but thin -indeed between her soul and the Heaven she writes of--yes, you can -almost see its light a-shinin’ through the words, and its music almost -throbs through her sweet thoughts. - -But to resoom. It seems almost like a beautiful dream to look back -on’t, with, of course, some shadders to make the brightness seem more -bright, the time we spent in Florence. One day while we wuz there we -rid out to see the Tower of Pisa--Martin sed it would be expected of -him to see it. - -We found that Pisa wuz a dretful noisy place--dretful, and, somehow, -yellin’ in a foreign language seems worse than the same yellin’ in -Yankee. Howsumever, I spoze these yellers and jabberers knew their own -business. - -[Illustration] - -Josiah sed, as we looked up at the tower, sez he-- - -“You’ve always took me to task, Samantha, about my corn-house bein’ -built kinder tippin’ and tottlin’. Now what do you think? This tips as -much agin, and folks can’t think too much on’t, so it seems.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “it has a different look to it from your edifice. I -believe that will fall on you some day, Josiah Allen, and be the death -on you.” - -“Wall, they hain’t either on ’em fell yet; they both stand kinder -tippin’, but I don’t worry about either on ’em--we knew what we wuz -about when we built ’em.” - -He ranked ’em both right in together, I see that he did. But this tower -goes fur ahead of his edifice--fur, though it is some seven hundred -years older. - -It is perfectly round, the sides all fixed off in rows of pillows, and -the hull thing most two hundred feet high. - -I didn’t hanker for goin’ up to the top on’t--no, indeed! It tuckers -me enough to go up into our wood-house chamber, about twenty odd steps. -I wuzn’t goin’ to trail up three hundred steps--no, indeed! - -But Martin sed that he would like to say that he had been there. So -he toiled up the ascent, and so did Alice. And she sed that the view -from the top wuz perfectly wonderful, takin’ in the beautiful country -all round--cities, picteresque villages, and the blue waters of the -Mediterranean twelve milds away. - -And Martin sed that if that tower wuz in Chicago, with a outside -elevator let down from the top to take folks up, and a cigar-stand -and saloon on top, a man ort to clear five thousand dollars a year -from it. And he sed the white marble it’s built on would make splendid -mantlepieces, and he told how many it would make--I can’t remember, but -a immense lot on ’em. - -He’d figgered ’em up on the tower; he took his pencil out and figgered -it up on the pinnakle, so, for all he realized, the entrancin’ view -below might have been our four-acre paster or a huckleberry patch. -We didn’t stay here long. Of course, we had to see the cathedral and -Baptistery, great buildin’s built of white marble, and all ornamented -off on the outside to as great an extent as I ever see, or ever expect -to, and the Campo Santa has got frescoes in it that are beautiful -beyend any tellin’ on. - -There is lots of other things there that is worth seein’--the Museum, -the University, the Aqueduct, etc.--but we didn’t stay to see em all, -Martin, as usual, a-bein’ in a great hurry; but he sed that he wanted -to say, of course, that he had paid proper attention to this city, -which wuz one of the oldest in Europe. Before John the Baptist came -preachin’ in the Wilderness this wuz a Roman town. It beats all! No -wonder it’s a noisy old place--it has seen lots of trouble. - -In goin’ out of it we went through so many tunnels, it skairt me most -to death, and Josiah wuz skairt, too, though he wouldn’t own up to it, -but I heard him sithe repeatedly; otherwise I wuz glad to go. - -Wall, as I say, what I see in beautiful Florence can’t be told, and the -enchantin’ seenery in the Valley of the Arno. The beautiful Casino, -which even Martin admitted come almost up to Central Park (it is fur -bigger and handsomer, though I wouldn’t want the Central Park folks to -know I sed it, for it would be apt to mad ’em. It made Martin mad as a -hen when I suggested it). - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -COLOSSEUM AND CATACOMBS. - - -It wuz jest as beautiful in Rome--magnificent palaces, cathedrals, -picters, statutes, tapestry, mosaics, articles of virtue of all kinds, -and immense gateways leadin’ into new seens of beauty, fountains, -monuments, tombs, parks, wells, etc., etc., etc. - -My head-dress almost rises up on my head now as I contemplate the -seens. But specially the Colosseum almost lifts up the ribbins on -it--now, when I meditate on’t. - -[Illustration] - -Why, when the Loontown Opera House wuz finished, we Jonesvillians hung -our heads considerable before the Loontowners, they wuz so hauty over -it. Two hundred could set down in it all to one time. - -It danted us. We envied ’em. But what would them proud Loontowners -think of a theatre that would seat eighty thousand, and probble -twenty or thirty thousand more could have squoze in while they wuz -a-performin’. - -One hundred thousand all assembled, mebby to look down on the dretful -sight of seein’ men kill each other. That wuz the thought that riz up -my head-dress, and almost busted my bask waist. To think that men and -wimmen could meet for amusement, and witness sech agony and sufferin’, -and probble laugh at it. Why, in one of their meetin’s, twelve hundred -men wuz killed, wimmen lookin’ on, too, jest as well as men, and -probble snickerin’ over it. - -I would be ashamed of myself if I wuz in their places--heartless -creeters! If I’d been there at the time nobody could kep’ me from givin’ -’em a piece of my mind. But I wuz eighteen hundred years too young; -they kep’ right at it. - -Al Faizi wuz dretful interested in this place. He writ down lots -in that book of hisen. He see sights here he never see in his own -land--religion or no religion. - -Christians throwed round to let lions and tigers devour ’em! The idee! -He looked curous as a dog while he talked with me about it. - -Martin wuz kinder calculatin’ on how many grain elevators the stun -would build if they wuz landed in Chicago. - -And Josiah and the children were wanderin’ round, and he acted tired -and fagged out. He wuz, as usual, hungry. He sed prowlin’ round amongst -them stun heaps gin him a appetite. And I spoze it did. But, then, I’ve -known settin’ still to whet up his appetite, and barn chores, and -everything. - -But we prowled round here for some time, and there is one big, vivid -memory that I brung away from Rome; it stands up in my foretop some as -in Naples Mount Vesuvius stands, with the Bay of Naples a-layin’ placid -and fair at its treacherous old feet. - -The treasures of the Vatican (which makes my brain reel and my feet -kinder ache to this day when I think of ’em), the biggest palace in the -world, so I spoze. And then St. Peter’s Church, more’n five times as -big as the big Catholic Cathedral in New York--two hundred and twelve -thousand feet; we can’t hardly understand it, it is so big. - -But Martin kep’ us there more’n half an hour; for, as he sed, he wanted -to git a thorough idee of it, so that he wouldn’t have to come agin. -Sez he: - -“I travel as I do everything else; I do it laboriously and thoroughly.” - -Wall, mebby he did, but I carried away from St. Peter’s and the -Vatican, which is jest by the side on’t, a sort of a dizzy, achin’ -memory of pillows and picters and statutes and illimitable space, -and picters and carvin’s and statutes, and statutes and carvin’s and -picters--a few of which stands out prominent--the Laocoon, the Apollo -Belvidere (he wuz as handsome as Thomas Jefferson, and that is sayin’ -all I can say), and the Annunciation, and the Transfiguration by -Raphael, and great picters by Da Vinci and Murillo. Picters, statutes, -mosaics, carvin’s, chapels, altars, picters, etc., etc., etc., etc., -etc., and I might go on so all day, but I won’t. - -Why, the treasures of art in the Vatican is the finest collection in -the world, and when you realize how big the world is--take it from -Jonesville to Chicago, and so by New York to Ingy, and back agin by the -North Pole to Loontown and Zoar, you can git a faint idee on’t. - -There is everything in it besides the glorious picters and statutes -made by the greatest artists and sculpters that ever lived. There are -ancient coins and household utensils of every age, tapestry, mosaics, -jewels, embroideries, carvin’s, etc., etc. - -Why, imagine what treasures of art could be put into these ten thousand -rooms by onlimited wealth and power through hundreds of years, and then -see if you expect anybody is a-goin’ to describe ’em; specially if they -are hurried on by a Martin, and goaded on the right and the left by the -hungry groanin’s of a Josiah, and the endless questions of a child of -eight. - -Al Faizi got considerable good out on’t, I guess. - -He writ down a lot, I see, in that delicate, small handwritin’ of -hisen--I d’no but it is shorthand. - -Alice, I spoze, see on every side a face, jest as young eyes will, when -young hearts are full of love and hope. - -Wall, Martin sed he must see the catacombs, and I felt, too, that I -must go, although I knew it wuz resky. I felt that with his ardent -temperament and his eager search after ontried paths, I more’n -mistrusted that I should lose Josiah Allen for good in them catacombs. -But I ventered, after layin’ stringent rules onto that small, but -ambitious man. - -Sez I, “Don’t you lose sight of me through the day, Josiah Allen!” - -“How can I see you in the dark?” sez he. - -“Foller my voice!” sez I. - -“That’s an easy job,” sez he; “I could foller that for years and years, -and not lose a minute.” - -I d’no what he meant; he wuz excited and kinder wanderin’ in his mind, -I believe. - -[Illustration: “The guides went ahead with flarin’ lights.”] - -Wall, when we descended into the bowels of the earth, I felt queer, -queer as a dog. The guides went ahead, with flarin’ lights held up to -guide us, and as we proceeded onwards through what seemed to be milds -and milds of underground rooms and halls and windin’ ways, the thought -come, and I couldn’t keep it out of my mind-- - -“What if the light should blow out, as I’ve seen so many lights do in -my day, and we should be doomed to forever more wander here, and die at -last fur from Jonesville, and the light of day. But as I whispered to -Josiah-- - -“We shall die together at least, which will be a comfort.” - -He, too, felt the pathos and danger of the seen, and sez he-- - -“Hurry up, or the guide will be out of sight!” and he added almost -tenderly, “You’re too fat, Samantha, to take many sech trips.” - -And I sez, “Wall, I don’t expect to travel habitually under the ground.” - -And we had some words. It madded me considerable to be twitted of my -heft both on top of the ground and in the bowels of the earth, till I -recollected where I wuz and what had once gone on here; then a deep or -took holt on me, and I sez to myself-- - -“What must the Christians have felt who fled here for safety from -persecution and death! What did the saints and martyrs think on as they -jined in their hymns of praise and victory? A few pounds of flesh, more -or less, what would they have thought on’t, or the teasin’ words of -their pardners? No, lions and tigers and the headsman’s axe wuz what -wuz before their eyes, and, what wuz worse, before the eyes of ’em -they loved best.” - -Endless rooms, so it seemed to me, we went through, narrer passages -and chambers, arched overhead, and the walls lined, some on ’em with -dead bodies. Mummies, tombs, picters, windin’ ways, Josiah, Martin, -torches--them wuz the idees that come back to me as I think on’t now. - -Wall, Josiah wuz dretful impressed with the Holy Staircase, up which -the members of the meetin’-house went on their knees, a-sayin’ their -prayers as they went, and it wuz a impressive sight to look way up the -stairs and see the bretheren and sistern a-creepin’ up and a-fingerin’ -their strings of beads and a-prayin’ to the Virgin Mary or some other -saint or ’postle, mebby. - -And here I had another trial with my dear, but too ardent and -impressible pardner. He looked on in deep thought for anon or a little -longer, and then he sez-- - -“Samantha, wouldn’t it be uneek for you and me to climb up the steps -of the Jonesville meetin’-house a-sayin’ over some hymn, or one of -the Sams? And you could take your mother’s gold string of beads, and -I could buy a string of glass ones for two or three cents, or I could -make a string with a little of Ury’s help--whittle ’em out of wood. And -how impressive it would be! how it would attract attention to us! how -foreign it would look, and show plain how travelled and cultivated -we wuz! You know, folks that come home from Europe always bring lots -of strange ways with ’em and airs; and this would be one of the most -uneekest and impressive that wuz ever brung into Jonesville or America.” - -Sez I, “Gin up that idee to once, Josiah Allen, for I will never jine -in with it in the world. The idee!” sez I, “that you and me, with -our age and our rumatiz, should go a-creepin’ up on our knees into -the meetin’-house. Why, to say nothin’ of spilein’ our clothes, our -knee-pans wouldn’t be good for nothin’ after one venter.” Sez I, “The -pans would be perfectly useless forever afterwards, and,” sez I, “what -good would it do? The aid we invoke hain’t bought with beads. The -God we worship hain’t reached by creepin’ up a pair of stairs; He is -right with us to the foot of the stairs or anywhere. Give up the idee -immegiately and to once.” - -He acted real fraxious, but I drawed his attention off, and mebby he’ll -forgit it. - -The beauty of Naples has been sed and sung in so many different words -and tunes that it don’t need the pen or voice of a Samantha, specially -as I hain’t much of a singer, nor wuzn’t even in my young days, so I -will be content with singin’ to myself at times a rapt sort of a soul -song, as I look back on the enchantin’ beauty of the Bay of Naples. - -Beautiful for situation indeed is Naples! clusterin’ round the clear, -blue waters, that sweep round in a sort of a crescent. - -The city occupies the centre--the inside on’t, little villages and -tree-embowered castles and villas a-linin’ the shores on each side, and -on the off side, addin’ the one touch of mystery that gives a vivid but -dark charm to the picter, rises Mount Vesuvius, a-standin’ there all -the time as if protestin’ aginst the poor wisdom of the ages. - -Who knows what’s a-goin’ on in her insides? Who knows what she’s mad -about? Who knows what makes her act so puggicky, and every now and then -bust out into blood-red indignation, that carries death and ruin all -round her? Queer, hain’t it? - -Queer, that havin’ in mind jest what she’s done and is liable to do any -time agin, that men and wimmen go on, gay and happy, and lean up aginst -her old feet, and nestle down in her shadder, and build homes of love -there, liable any minute to be swep’ away by her red-hot wrath! - -Passin’ strange! jest as singular as it is to think all of us in -Jonesville and the world at large will build fair homes of love and -content, and anchor ’em to livin’ hearts alone, in the same world where -Death is. - -But to resoom. My recollections of this city, like so many others, is -one vast paneramy, framed in by the blue Mediterranean, and ornamented -on top by Vesuvius, of picter galleries, tall palaces, broad avenues, -narrer streets, in which we see many seens that in Jonesville is kep’ -under cover, and stately castles--sights and sights of castles, and -immense ones; seems as if they wuz immenser and more numerous than in -any other city I see on my tower, and fountains, and aqueducts, and -churches, and colleges, and theatres, and operas, etc., etc., etc. -Plenty of chances for bein’ good, and plenty of modes of recreations, -the Neapolitans have, and they seem to take advantage on ’em all. But -it seemed as if I couldn’t never forgit that tall, warnin’ figger that -looms up forever in the background. But, then, agin, mebby I should; I -forgit the graveyard in Jonesville lots of times, though I ride by it -every Sunday to meetin’. - -The guide wanted us to go up Vesuvius. He said she wuz lookin’ very -mild and pleasant, and it would be perfectly safe. - -But I didn’t like her looks, or that is, I thought I’d ruther admire -her at a distance, some as I would a striped tiger right out of the -jungle. But Vesuvius did indeed look beautiful, a-risin’ up above the -incomparable Bay of Naples. But I felt for all her good looks I didn’t -want to tackle her. - -I knew what she’d done in the past to ’em that trusted her too much. -Pompey won’t forgit her--no, indeed! After eighteen hundred years -have gone don’t memories hant the House of Pansa and the hull of that -devoted city of what Vesuvius can do when it gits to actin’? Yes, -indeed, indeed! No, I didn’t want to venter. - -But I did want to visit that city that has lain buried up in the earth -for so many years. And Martin sed that most all of his inflooential -friends made a practice of goin’ there. So we all sot off one pleasant -mornin’--my Josiah in pretty good sperits, for we had had an oncommon -good breakfust, and Alice lookin’ sweet as a flower, and Al Faizi -a-knowin’ she did, a-realizin’ her sweetness through all his bein’, as -I could see from his big, dark, sad eyes, that wuz bent on her all the -way, and her heart all filled up with another’s image and drawin’ her -radiant looks from that sun of her heart. - -O human hearts; O glory and sadness and rapter that fills ’em! How many -jest sech gay young sperits, sech souls, full of the glowin’ rapter of -love, the divine sadness of love, went out in darkness on that dretful -day, a thousand and a half years ago! - -I had fearful riz-up emotions before I got to Pompey, jest a-thinkin’ -on’t, and so what could they have been when I at last stood in the city -on which fell sech a sudden doom. - -To see the silent forms struck down, jest as full of life and love and -happiness as Alice and Adrian wuz to-day. There wuz a woman clingin’ -to a bag of gold--gold couldn’t help her. A young man and young girl -clasped in each others’ arms--love couldn’t save ’em. A priest of Isis, -who knew all the secrets of the Mystic Religion--his wisdom couldn’t -save him, or what he called his wisdom. A giant form full of courage -and defiance--strength couldn’t save him, nor courage. A high-born lady -covered with jewels--wealth and high station couldn’t save her. - -They all had to bear the common fate, as well as the little maid -who died runnin’ away from death, and had covered her face with her -garments, she wuz so ’fraid. Poor little creeter! what if it had been -Babe? - -No; the prisoners shet up in jail, riveted to the rock, the dogs, -horses, goats, even the poor little dove, that wouldn’t leave her nest, -pretty, little affectionate thing!--all, all had to bear the doom that -come down upon ’em on that dretful day. - -All on ’em a-doin’ their usual work, jest as if the Heavens should -open and pour down a avalanche of ashes and bury us up in our home in -Jonesville--Josiah a-doin’ his barn chores, and I a-washin’ dishes, -and both on us full of life and joy of livin’. Besides Ury and Philury. - -Oh, dear me! oh, dear me suz! - -Wall, I went through them streets, so many centuries buried and forgot, -in a state of mind I can’t describe. It seemed some like goin’ through -any city. The streets wuz middlin’ narrer, but the housen stood on each -side; good roads wore down by the steps of the multitude. So wuz the -fountains that stood on every hand; you could see where the lips of -the public had wore ’em away. Palaces, little housen, shops, temples, -amphitheatres. One house we went through looked as though it had been -built yesterday for some rich American; it wuz over three hundred feet -long and over a hundred feet broad, and all ornamented off beautiful -with statutes and mosaics and things good enough for a Vanderbilt. - -In some things the old inhabitants did better than they do now. They -had sidewalks--pretty narrer, but fur better than none--and more -facilities for gittin’ water. I wish the Italians used more now--they -would feel as well agin for it, jest as Josiah duz when I can git him -to use it free. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -FASHIONABLE WATERING-PLACES. - - -[Illustration: Mr. Goldwind, one of Martin’s business rivals.] - -Wall, in the streets of Naples Martin met a man that he knew at home--a -man most as rich as Martin--a Mr. Goldwind, a sort of a rival in -business, I guess, and he had jest been travellin’ through Spain. - -And what should P. Martyn Smythe do but proclaim it to us that evenin’ -that we wuz to go to Spain. - -I hearn him say to Alice--“It will be asked of me if we have been -there. Gertrude Goldwind will ask you if you have been there. Alice, we -must be able to say ‘Yes.’ So we will start immegiately. I have got to -go back to Paris anyway on important business.” - -So the next day we started for Paris. - -As I have sed heretofore, Martin wuz a very enthusiastick and ambitious -traveller; that is, he wanted to tell what he’d seen in foreign lands, -whether he’d seen ’em or not; but he wuz ambitious to have his body -trailed through ’em. And it made it very good and instructive for me, -though wearisome, for, of course, the more you see, the more you know, -and he had to take the hull circus with him wherever he went. And when -he promulgated the wild idee that we wuz to go to Spain, I acquiesced -immegiately and to once, and after a private interview I held with -Josiah, he did. - -Sez Martin--“We won’t make a long stay there; but we will go over the -Pyrenees anyway, and step onto the soil; and when we go back to America -it can’t be said by any one that we did not see Spain.” - -Oh, how different folkses key-notes is! Now, the key-note to his -character wuz--what would folks say?--the outside of the platter; -while, as for me, my key-note wuz--what I could see and learn, and what -wuz inside of the platter. And that wuz Al Faizi’s key-note, only his -key wuz stronger and deeper even than mine. Josiah and the children had -their own keys and notes, which it is needless to peticularize. - -Wall, I had become some acquainted with Spain through my friend, -Washington Irving, and Mr. Bancroft, and then I wuz quite familar with -its literature. I had learned at a early age one of its poems, runnin’ -thus: - - “When it rains, - Do as they do in Spain-- - Let it rain.” - -I had often hearn and repeated this national epick to my relief and -consolation on stormy days. And though I felt that our trip bid fair to -be a hasty and sweepin’ one, yet I felt that if I could jest stand on -the top of the Pyrenees, and look down into the land, I would like it, -even if I did not step my foot into it. - -So, after stayin’ a short time in Paris--for Martin to do his errents -there, I spoze--we sot sail for Spain, and the first night come to the -river Garonne, and acrost the long bridge into Bordeaux. - -We stayed all night there, and the next mornin’ bright and early sot -out agin. A little after noon we come to Pau. The train stopped down by -the river Gave, a river that rushes right out of the mountains. Above -that, a hundred feet high, on a terrace lookin’ south, stands the city. - -And what a view busted onto my vision as I looked out of the winder at -the hotel! Them gleamin’, silent peaks of snow are camped round Pau -like tall, silent, white-robed pickets a-guardin’ Pau from danger. - -What a sight! what a sight! - -But Martin, anxious to see everything that could be seen, sot off most -the first thing to see the castle--one of the grandest in France--where -Henry IV. wuz born, and I spoze they enjoyed it, for Josiah went with -him. - -But what I wanted to see wuz the fountain of Lourdes. And though Martin -and Josiah kinder made light of me, they seemed willin’ enough to go -with me the next day. It is only a two hours’ ride from Pau to this -most famous place of pilgrimage in Europe. And we sot off in good -sperits. It lays down at the foot of the mountain, in a deep valley. -At one end of the village is a grotto where a young girl, years ago, -received a visit from the Virgin Mary, or she sez that she did. She -told the story to her folks and to all the neighbors, and she stuck to -the same story all her life till she died. - -Of course ’em that went to the same place and didn’t see nothin’--they -didn’t believe her. - -I d’no as Abraham’s folks believed him when he sed that he had had -a visit from angels. I dare presoom to say some of his relations -didn’t--his cousins now, and his mother-in-law’s folks; I dare say -they sed they wuz a-lookin’ right that way at the very time and didn’t -see a thing--Abraham must have been mistaken; and they would add most -probble-- - -“Abraham’s eyes are a-failin’; he ort to wear stronger specs.” - -Not a-thinkin’ that their stronger specs could never give ’em a glimpse -of the things that he see; for speritual things are speritually -discerned, and we all have gifts differin’. Why should a propheysier -try to dream dreams and see visions? - -Wall, finally the priests gin out that the story wuz true, but whether -their consciences wuz good in ginin’ it out I d’no--I don’t keep their -consciences in a box in my bureau draw. - -But tenny rate, the first six months one hundred and fifty thousand -pilgrims visited the spot and partook of the healin’ water of the -spring that flowed out of the grotto. - -And pretty soon a lofty meetin’-house riz up over that grotto. The -grounds round it are laid out like a immense waterin’-place that must -prepare for the comin’ of a multitude without number. In the season of -pilgrimage the meetin’-house is crowded all day and way into the night, -and round it the way is blocked with the pilgrims, and way up onto the -hillside their kneelin’ forms are massed. - -What a seen it must be in still nights, that immense kneelin’ throng -and vast procession a-movin’ up the hill and a-carryin’ torches and -a-singin’ thrillin’ hymns! - -Inside, the meetin’-house wuz richly decorated, its high arches -festooned with banners, and the walls covered with memorials of -gratitude for cures performed there. - -Martin walked round with his hands in his pockets and his head up. I -don’t believe he sensed anything of the sperit of the place, nor Josiah. - -Nor down in the grotto either, as we stood by that miracolous fountain -and see a-hangin’ all round us the crutches of the paryaletics and -cripples who had been cured here and walked off with no use for ’em any -more. - -I don’t believe them two men took any more realizin’ sense of what they -wuz a-seein’. - -Josiah drinked a cup of the water, and sez he in a pert tone-- - -“That is the best water I’ve drinked sence I left Jonesville. I wish I -could take a kag with me--it tastes like the spring down by the Beaver -Medder in Jonesville.” - -And Martin drinked his cupful, and sed he preferred Apollinaris water. - -Neither of them men realized its virtues. - -But I sez to my pardner--“Josiah Allen, don’t you know that this water -heals the sick, makes the lame walk, and the blind see? Don’t you -realize it as you ort to, Josiah Allen?” - -“Oh,” sez he, “I don’t feel any peticular difference in my feelin’s; I -feel jest about the same.” - -And Martin sed he thought it wuz imagination mostly. Sez he, “You know -in sudden danger cripples have been known to walk off; it is the power -of their religious fervor that performs the cure.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “you can call it what you please, but it is a good thing -anyway that cures ’em.” Sez I, “I dare presoom to say that they feel -like sayin’ as they walk off and look round--‘One thing I know, whereas -I was blind, now I see,’ and they feel like leapin’ and praisin’ the -power that has healed ’em.” - -Martin kep’ his hands in his pockets and looked onbelievin’, but I see -that my talk wuz impressin’ my beloved companion, and he whispered to -me while Martin’s back wuz turned--“Do you spoze, Samantha, that it -would be apt to cure that corn of mine? I’m most tempted to try it.” - -I sez, “Have you the faith, Josiah Allen?” - -And he sez, “I have faith that it aches like the old Harry this minute.” - -[Illustration: “I have faith that it aches like the old Harry.”] - -Sez I, “Do you believe that the water could heal it? If you hain’t got -faith I wouldn’t take off my shue;” for my ardent companion wuz even -then a-onbuttonin’ the top button. - -He paused. “But,” sez he, “would I have to leave my shue here if I -got cured--would it be fashionable and stylish to do so, and go home -barefooted?” - -And I swep’ right by him, and sez I, “Come on, Josiah Allen; all the -water of Lourdes can’t cure a soul whose highest aim is to be stylish.” - -And he come on a-mutterin’, “You complain if I don’t look ahead, and -you complain if I do. How did I know whether it would be expected of me -to go home in my stockin’ feet or not, and you’d complain if I got a -hole in my stockin’.” Sez he, “If I hain’t healed you complain, and if -I be healed you find fault with me.” - -Sez I soothin’ly, “Dear Josiah, you might git cold in your stockin’ -feet--it is all for the best, and I d’no its power over corns anyway,” -sez I. - -“Wall,” sez he, “it would look queer to Pau to see me mount the hotel -steps with one shue and one red stockin’ on.” - -For he had worn his dressiest pair that mornin’. - -And he murmured, “If I had my dressin’-gown on, it would droop down -over my feet some.” - -Al Faizi had been all this time a-lookin’ round and notin’ down things -in his note-book, and seein’ everything with his deep, strange eyes, -but sayin’ little about it, and a-thinkin’ a lot, as wuz his general -way. - -The next mornin’ we left Pau, and in the afternoon we found ourselves -in the “Bay of Biscay, Oh!” - -That is a quotation from a poem--in common talk the “Oh” can be omitted. - -We had to wait a spell at Bayonne for the train to take us into Spain, -though Martin proposed that we should take a carriage and drive out to -Biarritz. - -For Martin sed that so many of his acquaintances went there for the -winter that it would sound better for us to say that we had passed some -time there--it would be far more stylish and fashionable to say it. - -“How long a time can you pass there,” sez I, “to git back to ketch the -train?” - -“Wall,” sez he, “we shall have time to stay three fourths of an -hour--ample time to see everything of interest there.” - -Good land!!!!! - -But Martin wuz the head of the procession, as you may say, and we had -to foller on where he went and halt when he halted. - -And I felt that one thing wuz favorable to me, I always had a faculty -for seein’ a good deal in a short space of time by the clock. - -Biarritz is a pleasant place in the winter, and you could see that a -good many have discovered it by the number of big hotels perched up on -the bluffs, their open winders lookin’ south. - -Of course Martin had to drive by the Villa Eugenia, occupied by her who -once had a empire to command, and beauty, youth, and love, and now sits -and looks over the tombs and the ruins of the hull on ’em. - -Poor creeter! I always felt onreconciled to that bright young boy of -hern bein’ struck down as he wuz by a savage in a savage place, fur -from a mother’s love. - -Oh, dear me! - -But here Napoleon came often in the mild September, and happiness -rained in the beautiful villa, with its gay pleasure grounds. - -Wall, Martin see a sight, I spoze, and as he sed a-goin’ back: - -“I am so glad we stayed here some time, for I know a lot of men who -bring their families here winters, and it will be interesting to -converse with them about the beauties of the place; I’m glad I brought -all my family with me,” sez he, lookin’ complacently at Alice and -Adrian. - -“But, papa, we never sat down at all,” sed Adrian. - -“Never mind, my boy--you have been there, and it is a great -watering-place. And when Mr. Goldwind’s boy talks about Biarritz, you -can mention to him that you have been there and stayed for some time.” - -“But Billy Goldwind stays there all winter, papa.” - -“Well, we do not want to stay so long; we want to get back home before -winter. We merely wanted to go there and stay some time, and we have.” - -Wall, I don’t spoze it wuz a real lie--we had been there and had stayed -some time. - -Josiah sed he had stayed as long as he wanted to, and he should be glad -to git into Spain with his dressin’-gown on, and set down a spell. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -CATHEDRALS AND CASTLES IN SPAIN. - - -I wuz not sorry to be on the train agin on our way to Irun, which wuz -the first town of Spain we entered, and here we wuz ushered into the -Custom House. - -Our baggage wuz all took into the station and spread out on long -counters and examined. - -Politer creeters I don’t want to see than them Spaniards wuz. And the -language they spoke amongst themselves wuz as soft as silk and as -kinder soothin’ and sweet. And they didn’t hurt our baggage a speck, -though Josiah’s anxiety as they opened his satchel wuz extreme. - -He sez to me, “Like as not they’ll spile that dressin’-gown.” - -“How could they spile it?” I whispered back. - -“Why,” sez he, “them tossels could be hurt easy. I shall have to comb -’em out agin as quick as we stop.” - -He had a awful coarse comb with him, and he did spend hours a-combin’ -out them red tossels that he ort to spend on his own head, or on his -Bible. - -So, as I say, he jest hovered over that satchel and heaved 2 or 3 deep -sithes of relief as the Custom House officer released it from his hand. - -And, oh! how lovin’ly he folded the rep folds, and laid the tossels -down caressin’ly. - -My baggage was soon and hurridly gone through--in the words of a old -adage concernin’ a horse, changed to suit the occasion--“A short -satchel is soon hurried.” - -The Spaniards are a lazy set--I guess they would have examined our -things closter, if they wuzn’t so slow and slack. - -[Illustration: I see one of the officials take up my sheep’s-head -nightcap.] - -[Illustration: A smile of admiration swep’ over his dark visage.] - -I see one of the officials take up one of my sheep’s-head nightcaps -that lay on top--so’s to not muss the agin’--he took it up, and a smile -of admiration swep’ over his dark visage. I believe, if he hadn’t -been so lazy, he would have asked me for the pattern on’t. More’n as -likely as not, so lackin’ is Spain in some of the first elements of the -ingregiencies of civilization, I shouldn’t wonder a mite if them two -wuz the only sheep’s-head nightcaps in Spain. - -But this last fact (his laziness) conquered his gropin’s after sunthin’ -new and better than he and his companion had known in the way of -nightcaps. He laid it down with another smile of admiration, and closed -up my satchel. - -Wall, after we got on the cars agin, bag and baggage, and I thought, -my soul, owin’ to the utter shiftlessness and slowness, that we never -should git fairly to goin’. - -After Josiah wuz set at rest agin concernin’ his dressin’-gown, and I -settled down about my nightcap, little did I think that we should have -to go through the hull performance agin in a few hours. - -But we did--the hull seen was enacted agin, my pardner’s anxiety -and all. Only these new officials hadn’t the sense to appreciate my -nightcaps--they turned ’em over as if they wuz common apparel. - -Martin and Alice took everything of the sort with composure and good -nater; they wuz ust to it, I spoze, travellin’ round all the time. And -Al Faizi looked on the faces of the men with that searchin’, enquirin’ -gaze of hisen, and didn’t say nothin’. Adrian wuz tired, I could see, -and when we got into the carriage to take us to our hotel, he kinder -laid down in my lap and went to sleep. - -Good, pretty little creeter! - -San Sebastian is situated on sech a beautiful little bay that they -have named it the Concha, or shell, as we would call it. It is a noted -waterin’-place, and Queen Isabella ust to come here summers and water -herself, and bathe, and act. If I’d been here I should have gin her a -talkin’ to; I dare presoom to say I could have got her to turn right -round in her tracts and got her to behavin’; I presoom, in all the -crowds around her, there wuzn’t one well-wisher to walk up and tell her -what wuz what. No; praise to her face and back-bitein’ to her back. - -I’d ort to been there! She had a hard time all her life, and I’m real -sorry for her, and she would have read it in my mean, and took my -advice as it wuz meant to be took. - -Wall, we stayed here two days, and I wuz glad, indeed, of the rest. I -wuz willin’ to spend my time with St. Sebastian, while the rest spent -their time a-meanderin’. - -Martin and Josiah and the rest made lots of excursions to all the -castles and cathedrals in the vicinity, but I felt middlin’ satisfied -to see the most on ’em from the outside. The ruffs of ’em, viewed from -my bedroom winder, seemed to satisfy my mind as I looked out on ’em -dreamily, as I applied arnaky to my knee jints. I wuz real lame, but -recooperated a good deal while here. - -I did take one or two drives, when I wuz charmed with the strange and -picteresque scenery. In some places to see the mountains a-standin’ up -all round us in the fur blue distance, and the queer little hamlets -nestled down in the deep green valleys. - -We went to Pasages, less than a hour’s drive, to see the very place -where Lafayette sot sail to help us git our freedom. - -I had so many emotions here, as I viewed this spot, that I breathed -hard, and had to restrain myself to keep a composure on the outside. - -On the way back we met lots of their heavey, rough carts, drawed by an -ox and a cow lashed together by ropes wound round their horns, and then -hitched to the cart. - -[Illustration: Heavey, rough carts, drawed by an ox and a cow lashed -together by ropes wound round their horns.] - -As Josiah see this, he sez, “There, Samantha, you can see the practical -workin’s of wimmen’s rights.” Sez he, “I say a cow has done all she ort -to when she’s gin a good pail of milk; she ortn’t to plough and reap -too.” - -That speech kinder dumbfoundered me for a spell. It wuz the smartest -thing my pardner had sed for over a year and a half. But, after -considerin’ on’t for a spell, I sez-- - -“Josiah, that hain’t so deep a speech as you’d think it wuz from -considerin’ it from jest on the outside. The cases are different,” sez -I. “The cow helps draw the cart, both equal; but the cow don’t have to -pay taxes and the ox can’t make laws that hang her and rob her, etc.” - -But still, in my own mind, I did admire my pardner’s observation, and -admired him considerable for thinkin’ on’t. It showed high gallantry, -too, and devotion to females; I felt quite proud on him for pretty nigh -half a day. - -On one excursion that Martin wanted to make I wuz more’n willin’ to -accompany and go with him--that wuz to Azpeitia, a little village 25 -miles from San Sebastian; but its bein’ a mountain road, it took us -about all day to go and come. - -But Martin didn’t begrech the time. “For,” sez he, “I want to see the -spot where the man was born who has exerted the greatest power of any -man on earth--Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the order of Jesuits.” -Sez he-- - -“I shall be asked if I went there, and I want to be able to say yes.” - -How different I felt on the subject, and how different Al Faizi felt! -I see in that heathen’s rapt eyes as we talked about it on the way the -same emotions I felt--a deep admiration for the grand, heroic character -of Loyola, a deep horrow of the power he sot to goin’, not knowin’ how -fur it wuz a-goin’ to move, nor how much blood it wuz a-goin’ to wade -through. - -I’d hearn his history rehearsed a number of times by Thomas Jefferson, -and I knew all about it. He wuz a favorite at court, with beauty and -wit and good sense, a brave warrior, brought down to death’s door by -the enemy’s sword. When he wuz thirty years old, as you can see by the -inscription over his front door, “He gave himself to God.” - -In that same hour he wuz converted, there hain’t a doubt of that; -nobody ever had more faith than he had. Why, he see for himself the -water and the wine changed right before his eyes into the blood and -body of our Lord. - -Some say it wuz a vision caused by his religious ecstasy. But _he -saw it_, and forevermore he doubted not--he _knew_ what he believed, -and with all the ardor of his immortal faith, with all the brave -generalship learnt by his warlike trainin’, he led on his countless -troops aginst the Wrong as he see it. - -Nobody can doubt the sincerity and single-mindedness of Loyola; he -give proof of it in his life of self-denial and fastin’ and prayer. He -changed his clothes with a beggar, eat the most loathsome food, and to -mortify his pride begged from door to door. Why, he who wuz ust to the -soft couches of a court dwelt a hull year in a cave in plain sight of -a convent built to the Virgin Mary. He lay here on the ground a hull -year, three hundred and sixty-five nights, so that he could show that -he wuz indeed a worm of the dust in sight of his Maker. - -Havin’ prepared himself thus, he went to the shrine of the Virgin Mary -and spent a hull night in prayer before the altar, then laid his sword -upon it to show that he laid aside all dreams of earthly honor. And -here he took his vows--to give his heart’s deepest love, and his hull -life’s devotion. - -These vows he kep’ to the last minute of his life. In a church built to -his honor are those words that ruled him: - -“To the Greater Glory of God.” - -There can be no doubt of his sincerity and no doubt of the fatal power -he wielded and wields yet. For that strong, inexecrable hand holds -empires in its grasp, blood drippin’ through the firm, cast-iron -fingers. A well-meanin’ grasp in the first place, nobody doubts, and as -time has passed, a-snatchin’ many savages from their barbarous lives -and savage beliefs into better ways of livin’, and bringin’ ’em into -the shelter of the Cross. - -Good and evil, evil and good. Loyola is not the only Leader who has -waded through seas of blood, and all to “The Greater Glory of God.” And -what will be the end? - -Onlimited power is a dangerous weepon to handle. Believin’ as he did -firmly, onalterably, that his way wuz the only right way, he proceeded -to make people walk in it. He went to work jest as the Puritans did -when they hung witches and whipped Baptists. Only as his power reached -by powerful organizations into all the countries of the earth, so the -streams of bloodshed flowed down all the mountains of the earth, and -reddened all the valleys. - -And he, shet up to home a-fastin’ and a-prayin’ and a-seein’ visions of -his Lord, and heads a-bein’ cut off and flames a-cracklin’ round the -martyrs that he caused to be put to death in the name of his religion. -And St. Francis Xavier, the best and sweetest soul that ever lived, -he too become a general in this great army. By its swift, silent, -mysterious power Kings wuz put to death, a Pope wuz poisoned, and some -say that the Massacree of St. Bartholomew wuz caused by it. By its -power Queen Isabella, the sweet, tender-hearted soul who sold her own -earrin’s and things to help Columbus discover us--jest think of her, -for what she wuz made to think wuz for “The Greater Glory of God,” she -give her consent to have the dretful Inquisition established in Spain, -causin’ half a million of Christians to be tortured and put to death. - -Curous, hain’t it, what actin’ and behavin’ mortals will take on -themselves to do in the name of Religion! - -And she, so sweet, so peaceable, so holy--rejoicin’ not in Iniquity, -but rejoicin’ in the Truth; forgivin’ her enemies, blessin’ ’em that -persecute her, lovin’ all men and wimmen, blessin’ the world. - -Queer, hain’t it! - -Wall, from San Sebastian we went to Bruges and put up at a hotel built -in honor of a Emperor. But I wuz dissapinted; a hotel in honor of a -tramp ort to have more conveniences and smell sweeter. But I got a -chance to set down and rest, anyway, which wuz indeed a panaky to my -legs and to me. - -I’d been quite rousted up about comin’ to Bruges, for here Cid wuz -born, as I told Josiah. - -“Syd who?” sez he. - -“Why, the Cid,” sez I, “who led the armies aginst the Moors and freed -Spain.” - -“Wall,” sez Josiah, “I should think if he done all that it would look -better for you not to nickname him and call him Syd. You never wuz -intimate with Sydney,” sez he. - -Sez I, “That hain’t his name; it is C-i-d, Cid. Hain’t you hearn Thomas -J. read about him--all the great things he did, and how after he wuz -dead he rode into Bruges clad in armor? And when a Jew approached his -dead body to offer it some insult his mailed hand come up and knocked -him down.” - -Sez Josiah, “I don’t approve of Syds doin’ that anyway--I should go -aginst it; it would be apt to make queer funerals if sech things wuz -encouraged.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “I don’t say it is so, but I’ve hearn tell it wuz.” - -Anyway, we found in the town-hall his bones wuz nothin’ but dust. -Josiah kinder sheered away from the box where they wuz kep’, but -nothin’ took place and ensued. - -The cathedral is a sight--a sight. I felt a good deal as I stood under -its walls as a ant would feel if she wuz sot down under Bunker Hill -Monument. And inside the buildin’ my emotions wuz still more various -and lofty. The interior is exquisite, grand beyend any idee almost, -and the proportions are so perfect, the harmony of it affects one a -good deal as the most melogious music would, and the colorin’ is jest -as perfect as the architecture. Take it all in all, it is a sight--a -sight. Even Josiah wuz affected by it; his local pride wuz lowered -imperceptibly, and sez he-- - -“I’ve cracked up the Jonesville meetin’-house everywhere I’ve been, and -it is a comogious structure, but this goes ahead on’t, and I will own -up that it duz.” - -Martin sed, “I’m glad I’ve been here; a good many of my friends have -spoken of it to me. I shall be glad to say that I have studied this -much-talked-of cathedral at length.” - -We wuz there about half a hour. - -Al Faizi showed in his ardent face, lifted in reverence and admirin’ -or, jest how he felt about it. The lights from the stained-glass winder -gleamed on’t, and made it look almost inspired. He nor I didn’t seem -to want to talk much about it. I never do when I see Niagara. No, I’m -willin’ to let that do the talkin’ to my rapt soul. - -It wuz so here. When I stood in these cathedrals, the grandeur and -might of their silent oratory preached to me so loud that I wuz almost -overwhelmed and by the side of myself, and carried some distance by the -power of the sperit that carried out these grand results. - -But anon, when I got outside, other emotions got into my sperit; they -come in onbid, and I had to use ’em well. - -I thought how on great days the congregation who meet here would -worship God all day and wave banners and anon fire cannons in honor of -some saint or other, and then end up with a bull-fight. - -Jest as if Josiah and Deacon Bobbett should pass the Holy Communion, -bread and wine, and then withdraw into the horse-shed, and have a dog -or rooster fight. - -It took off a number of my soarin’ emotions to think on’t, probble as -many as 80 or 85. I had had over a hundred right along--I know I had. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -JOSIAH’S DEVOTION. - - -Wall, another day we went to see the Carthusian Monastery, founded -four hundred years ago by Queen Isabella--Christopher Columbuses -Isabella--the intimate friend of America (owin’ to jewelry, discovery, -etc.). - -Josiah and I thought we would branch out this day and go alone, so he -secured the gayest-lookin’ rig he could find, drawed by three mules -hitched side by side. It attracted all the beggars in town, so they -follered us as a dog with a bone is follered by other dogs. - -But Josiah took it as a tribute to our style, and he leaned back in -perfect delight, and sez he, a-wavin’ his hand with a kind of hauty -wave-- - -“Drive by Alameda!” - -Come to find out the reasons he gin his orders wuz he’d heard Alameda -talked about, and he thought she wuz a woman, and mebby a American, and -he wanted to show off before her. - -But it wuzn’t a woman. It wuz a pretty park, and we driv along and -crost the river, and went through a long avenue of ellum trees each -side on’t, and anon we found ourselves on top of a noble hill in front -of a Monastery. - -Here we rung the bell at a gate for admission, and a small grated -winder wuz opened and a man’s face appeared with a dark-colored -nightcap on. - -He asked if there wuz wimmen in the party. If there wuz we couldn’t -come in. - -I guess he wuz fraxious, bein’ waked up sudden. I jedged from his -nightcap. But little did I think it would have sech a effect on my -pardner. - -He could not at first comprehend the indignity offered to his beloved -pardner. But the driver repeated it; sez he-- - -“The Friar says you can come in, but no woman could be admitted.” - -Then I see the power of cast-iron devotion made harder by the hammers -of Joy and Sorrer a-hammerin’ down on the anvil of Time. That noble but -too hasty man riz right up in the vehicle and shook his fist at the man -with the nightcap, and hollered out-- - -“I’ll give that fryer a piece of my mind!” and before I interfered he -yelled out: - -“You may keep right on with your fryin’; I won’t stir a step inside if -Samantha can’t come too. I’ll let you know that any place that’s too -good for her is too good for me. Keep right on with your fryin’, your -bull beef will probble spile if it hain’t cooked!” - -I ketched him by his vest, and sez I: “Pause, Josiah Allen. He hain’t a -cook; it is a F-r-i-a-r.” - -“How do you spoze I care how you spell it? You can spell their -bull-fights b-o-u-l if you want to; that don’t hender ’em from havin’ -to take care of their fresh beef. Keep right on a-fryin’!” sez he in -bitter mockery. “My Samantha hain’t probble good enough to see a little -beef a-fryin’; but,” sez he, waxin’ eloquent, as, animated by the power -of love, he stood up nobly for me-- - -“You can fry all day and think you go ahead of any woman, and be too -proud to let ’em see you at it; but Samantha’s cookin’ is as fur ahead -of yours as the United States is bigger than Spain. And I’d ruther have -one of Samantha’s steaks that she cooks than all the beef that you ever -killed at your dum bull-fights. And don’t you forgit it!” he hollered, -as the driver drove away by my almost frenzied directions. - -He sunk back exhausted on his seat as we swep’ on. And you can jedge of -his agitation when I say that he threw out three copper cents all to -one time to the swarm of ragged beggars that run along by the side of -the carriage. He threw ’em out mekanically, and as if he didn’t know -what he wuz about. Ah! the insult to me rankled deep in his noble but -small-sized frame. He didn’t git over it all that night. I always knew -he loved me deeply--I knew it in Jonesville, and I knew it in Spain. -But oh! how touchin’ the proof wuz that he gin to me as his voice rung -out in the vast, lonesome bareness of our chamber in Bruges, Spain, as -he lifted his hand in mockery, and cried out: - -“Keep right on with your fryin’; you won’t git me to eat a mou’ful -while Samantha is hungry!” - -Oh, the power of love! How it gilds with its rosy rays the quiet ways -of Jonesville! How it still shone on and shed its ambient light in a -foreign land! But I gently hunched him and woke him up, for I see it -wuz endin’ in nightmair. - -I wuz too overcome by a deep sense of his nobility of sentiment in my -behaff to argy with him that day. I felt that it would be ongrateful in -me; and then, agin, I felt that he wuz too overcome by the greatness of -his emotions--I knew his frame wuz but small, and his devoted affection -and his righteous anger mighty. I dassent add another single emotion -to them he wuz already a-carryin’--no, I dassent venter. But I talked -soothin’ly all the evenin’, and said not a upbraidin’ word when his -nightmair snorted and waked me up with its prancin’ huffs. - -No; I, too, am a devoted pardner, and know when to talk and when to -keep silence. That is a great nack for pardners to learn--one of the -greatest and most neccessary. - -But the next mornin’, when all wuz calm, and a not knowin’ how fur his -emotions might lead him agin into twittin’ them Spaniards about their -national custom of bull-fights, etc., and fearin’ he might git into -serous trouble by it when I wuz not near to soothe and assuage the -ragin’ tumult, I sez-- - -“Josiah, you made a mistake yesterday; that man in the nightcap wuzn’t -a-fryin’ the beef slaughtered in their bull-fights. They don’t eat -that; why,” sez I, “sech mad beef wouldn’t be fit to eat--it would make -’em sick.” - -“Wall, don’t they look sick?” sez he; “a little, under-sized, saller -set, caused almost entirely,” sez he, “by eatin’ that beef.” - -Wall, I see that I couldn’t change his mind, and I sez-- - -“Wall, anyway, they’re about the politest creeters I ever see, and how -soft and melogious their voices are! Their words seem as soft as velvet -and silk.” - -“Yes,” sez he; “if they wuz a-goin’ to spell ‘cat’ or ‘dog,’ they would -pronounce it c-a-t, cattah, or d-o-g, doggah,” sez he. “I’m kinder sick -on’t, but most probble they can’t help it--it is caused by their diet; -and,” sez he, lookin’ wise-- - -“That bull beef hain’t the worst on’t. Don’t history tell of that Diet -of Worms that they wanted Martin Luther to partake on and he wouldn’t?” - -Sez I, “Josiah, that wuz the name of the meetin’ he wuz dragged before.” - -Sez he, “I take history or the Bible as it reads, and I know I have -read a sight of that Diet they couldn’t git Martin to jine in with ’em -and partake of.” - -Mekanically I disputed him, for my thoughts wuzn’t there. No, as I -thought on’t, the form of my companion a-tyin’ his necktie before the -small lookin’-glass, and a-tryin’ to edify me, faded away, and I seemed -to look back through the centuries and see that brave Monk a-standin’ -up for the Holy Truth, revealed to him in his cloister, as it has been -through all time revealed to chosen, prophetic souls. I seemed to see -the angry-faced assemblage surroundin’ him. The cold, gloomy face of -Charles V., King of Spain and Emperor of Germany, a-lookin’ frownin’ly -on him as he pleaded for liberty and conscience. And I seemed to hear -Luther’s voice say the words that have echoed down through all these -centuries and are a-echoin’ still: - -“Here I take my stand, I cannot do otherwise. God help me!” - -But anon the voice of my pardner drawed me back down the long aisle of -the years wet with blood, black with the Inquisition, with little oases -of Peace scattered along, shinin’ through the lurid battle clouds. - -His voice rousted me as it sed, “Hain’t you never goin’ to git that -nightcap off, Samantha? I’m almost starved to death, though what I’m -goin’ to eat, goodness knows.” - -And as I hastily took off my nightcap and wadded up my back hair, he -resoomed-- - -“I never wuz any case to eat clear pepper and ginger for any length of -time, or allspice.” Sez he, “I am slowly wastin’ away, Samantha; I’ll -bet I weigh five or six ounces less than I did when I left home.” Sez -he, pitifully, “It seems to me, Samantha, if I could set down once more -quiet in our own home and eat one of your good breakfusts, I would be -willin’ to die.” - -“Wall,” sez I, “less try to bear up and lot on gittin’ back home agin.” -Sez I, “One of the noblest fruits of travel, Josiah, is the longin’ it -gives us to be back home agin and settle down and rest.” - -He assented with a deep sithe, and at my request hooked up my dress -skirt in the back. - -[Illustration: At my request he hooked up my dress skirt in the back.] - -Wall, knowin’ Martin’s pecular, but, as I found out afterwards, popular -idees of travel, I didn’t expect to remain long in Spain; but we did -stay there several days, for, as Martin sed, after comin’ so fur he -wanted to make a exhaustive study of the country; so we stayed most a -week. - -Wall, so far as exhaustion wuz concerned I felt that we wuz havin’ a -success, for I wuz as tired as a dog from day to day, and tireder than -any dogs I ever see from all appearance. - -But Martin sed that we would visit Madrid before we left the country, -for he sed that he wouldn’t want to be asked if he had been to the -capital of Spain and be obliged to say no. Al Faizi spoke of wantin’ -to see the Alhambra, and I myself, havin’ been introduced to it by -Washington Irving and my boy, had a sort of a longin’ to explore its -wonders. But Martin sed that he had studied the Alhambra exhaustively -at Chicago, and he felt, seein’ he had got all the information that -could be got on the subject, it wuz useless to prolong our trip by -goin’ there. - -Sez he, “If there was anything new to learn I would go, for it is my -way to go to the very bottom of things in exploration or discovery; -but,” sez he, “I spent over half an hour in the Alhambra in Chicago, -and I have no more to learn.” - -I had been in that place myself, and had got lost, and felt like a fool -there. I remembered well how I roamed through them curous labrinths, -and had been brought up standin’ in front of myself repeatedly, and had -bowed to myself real polite, thinkin’ that I recognized some familar -form from Jonesville. - -And there it wuz myself, in one of them countless lookin’-glasses. I -felt cheaper than dirt. - -Sometimes I would think it wuz two or three somebody elses, and I’d -wonder how so many other wimmen could look so much like me as these -several ones did, a-appearin’ right up in front and on both sides of me. - -Only I would always give up every time that there didn’t none on ’em -look nigh so well as I did. They didn’t somehow have sech a noble -look to ’em, and their clothes didn’t hang so well as mine did, and -their bunnet strings wuz more rumpled up, and their front hair wuzn’t -so smooth, and they looked fur more tired out than I ever looked, and -bewildered like, and kinder wan. - -Yes, I’d been through them labrinths. I had enough of Moorish palaces -by the time I got out, a plenty. - -And if, as Martin sed, there wuz nothin’ more to see in Grenada, I -didn’t care a cent to go. And I thought more’n as like as not I should -lose Josiah in a labrinth--lose him for good and all. - -So I gin a willin’ consent to proceed onwards to Madrid. The children -wuz willin’ to go anywhere, and so wuz Al Faizi, for, as he sed to me: - -“Truth makes her home in all lands. I seek the light of her face under -every sky.” - -And, poor creeter! not findin’ it time and agin, I’m afraid. Though -in our long talks about this country, which in tryin’ to stomp out -Protestantism, had stomped out her own life; and in tryin’ to drownd -out Religion in the blood of her saints, had drownded out her own -civilization and progress-- - -Al Faizi and I talked this all over, but took comfort in thinkin’, -after all, that good can be found in every country by them that seek -her benine face. We took sights of comfort in talkin’ back and forth -about the Archbishop of Grenada, and his self-sacrificin’, heroic -doin’s in the great cholera plague of 1885. - -No Methodist could have done any better than he did, no deacon or -minister or anybody. I d’no as John Wesley could have come up to it. - -Wall, as I sed, I felt well to think that we had saved a journey to -Grenada, though I had kinder lotted on walkin’ under the Gate of -Jestice that I knew had to be gone through to visit the Alhambra. But I -sort o’ comforted myself by the thought that mebby it wuz only a name, -after all. - -I got real soothed for my dissapintment in not walkin’ through it by -thinkin’ of our own Halls of Jestice, and a-meditatin’ that Jestice -never sot her foot in ’em from one year’s end to the other, as nigh as -I could find out. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -THE QUEEN, ULALEY, AND A BULL-FIGHT. - - -Wall, we had a very fatiguin’ journey, durin’ which I will pass -over the sufferin’s of my pardner from the hot, dry climate, the -ever-present pangs of hunger, that wuz always with him, and the -fraxiousness, that, alas! always overcomes him at sech tuckerin’ times. - -I will draw a curtain of cretonne over the incidents of our tegus, -tegus journey, and only draw it back agin, on its hot, dry, brass -rings, when we are once more settled down in a middlin’ good tarvern -at Madrid--I a-settin’ by the winder and Josiah a-layin’ on the bed -fast asleep, the dressin’-gown folded lovin’ly round his small-boneded -figger. - -Martin and the children and Al Faizi went out a good deal to see all -the strange, new sights of the Spanish capitol. - -But I took considerable comfort a-settin’ still in as comfortable a -chair as I could find, a-lookin’ down on the Spaniards and their kinder -queer-lookin’ housen, and the strange costooms and ways of another -country-- - -The tall, hauty-lookin’ Dons a-walkin’ along as if the ground wuzn’t -quite good enough for ’em to walk on, and the dark-eyed wimmen, and -the children, and the beggars, and the splendid carriages, some on ’em -drawed by six horses apiece, and their harnesses all glitterin’ with -gold, and the humbler vehicles drawed by mules, and these mules trimmed -off beautiful, too, and, etc., etc., etc. - -Wall, it wuz on the third day after we arrov in Madrid, and I wuz -a-walkin’ in the Public Garden with little Adrian and my Josiah, when, -on turnin’ the corner of a leafy avenue, who should I see, right face -to face a-comin’ towards me, but my intimate friend, Ulaley. - -I wuz tickled most to death. It is always happifyin’ in a strange and -foreign country to meet anybody you’re intimate with, and when that -friend is a Infanty, and one you’ve advised and neighbored with, your -happiness is still greater. - -[Illustration: She knowed me to once--a happy smile curved her pretty -lips.] - -I advanced and held out my hand, my Josiah and Adrian a-bringin’ up my -rear. She knowed me to once--a happy smile curved her pretty lips, and -sez she-- - -“Madam, I’m pleased to meet you. I remember seein’ you in your own -country.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “we met in Chicago, Ill., and had a first-rate visit -there.” Sez I, “How have you been ever sence I see you, and how is all -your folks? How is Antonio?” Sez I, “Did he git through the winter all -right? Sickness and the grip has been round lots, and if it has spared -our two pardners we ort to be thankful. And that makes me think,” sez -I, “let me introduce my pardner, Josiah Allen. - -“Josiah,” sez I, “this is the Infanty--Ulaley, you’ve hearn me speak -on.” - -Josiah made his best and lowest bow, and murmured sunthin’ about havin’ -read about her in the _World_. - -“Yes,” sez I, “and you’ve hearn me talk about her a sight.” - -But he had a sort of a obstinate streak come over him, sech as pardners -will have in the strangest and most onconvenient times, and he never -assented to that at all, but sed agin that he had read about her in the -_World_. - -And I had to let it go. Truly, pardners, though agreeable at times, -yet how clost do they clip off the wings of your pride and ambition at -other and more various times! - -Ulaley see it. Wimmen know only too well how often sech _contrarytemps_ -occurs, and she helped me out, as I’ve helped many a woman out of the -mud-puddle of embarrassment a pardner’s words have throwed her into. - -Sez she, “I have such warm recollections of your country--it is so -great a country,” sez she. - -“Yes,” sez I, “our country is a middlin’ big one, but I thought I -wouldn’t speak of the size on’t to you, Ulaley, thinkin’ that you might -think mebby that I’d come over here to kinder twit you of the smallness -of yourn.” And wantin’ to be real polite, sez I-- - -“The value of anything don’t always depend on its size.” - -“No, indeed!” sez Josiah. - -He wuz alludin’ to his own small weight by the steelyards. But I -waved off his speech--I felt quite cool towards him, about as cool as -rain-water, and I wouldn’t fall in with his hint and gin him my usual -compliment. - -Wall, jest as the Infanty and I wuz a-talkin’ back and forth, a woman -and a little boy, who had been a-lingerin’ a little behind, come -up, and I see in a minute who they wuz; and though I’m bashful by -nater--very, yet knowin’ that I had the honor and politeness of my own -country and Jonesville to uphold, I advanced towards her in a very -admirin’, respectful way. - -Yes, I see it wuz the Queen Regent and little Alfonso himself. I wuz -tickled, and still hampered, by the duties that devolved onto me, but -above all of my emotions riz the thought of how glad I wuz to meet ’em, -and how glad they would be afterwards a-thinkin’ it over to think that -they had a chance to meet me. - -Ulaley didn’t make no move to introduce us. And I see in a minute how -it wuz. There wuz the Queen pardnerless and alone, there wuz I with my -livin’ pardner; it would roust up too many sad memories to bring us all -closter to each other. - -But she’d no need to hesitated on that account; I could have told the -Queen that though a pardnerless state had its trials, havin’ a pardner -brings afflictions also--Heaven knows it duz! - -But I see how it wuz, and havin’ the sole glory of Jonesville and -America in my eyes, I advanced forwards with quite a lot of dignity and -made a deep curchy. - -I took holt of each side of my brown alpaca dress and held out the -skirt a very little. They wuz good curchys, and I made about three -on ’em--two to the Queen Regent and one to Alfonso. I thought one wuz -about right for him, considerin’ his age. - -I then advanced and held out my hand, and sez I--“I am glad to meet -you, Julia, and tell you how well I think on you.” Sez I, “A young -woman who has done as well as you have with what you have had to do -with deserves to be encouraged, and I’m glad to encourage you.” - -She looked awful surprised at my good manners and politeness; she bowed -her head in almost dumbfounder, as I could see, and I went on-- - -“You’ve had a hard time on’t, Julia--real hard. It’s always hard -to leave your own folks when you’re married and go and live with -his folks, and I presoom you’ve had days when you thought his folks -didn’t treat you well--it is nateral. And I presoom he cut up more or -less--pardners will. And you, fur away from your own folks, made the -cuttin’ up and actin’ seem worse. I persoom you’ve had days when you -would have willin’ly swapped off five or six Spanish palaces for one -free, onfettered hour beyend the Alps. And you would have willin’ly -swapped the most flatterin’ words addressed to you in a strange tongue -to listen to the swashin’ waves of the blue Danube, the ripplin’ waves -that beat up agin the shores of home--you had a real hard time. - -“And then, to cap all, your pardner wuz took from you, before even -the catnip wuz put to steepin’--before his baby’s eyes could look any -comfort into yours. Poor creeter! what a hard time on’t you did have. - -“But when the baby wuz born, he brung a new life to you--you see your -dead-and-gone pardner’s first tender love a-shinin’ through the little -face, all the passion and dross and dissapintment of a pardner’s love -filtered through the divine and satisfyin’ sweetness of a child’s love. - -“Oh, he has made life and Spain different things to you, and you’ve -sprunted up and done well--you’ve done first rate! You are a-bringin’ -up little Alfonso jest as well as I could, and I d’no but better, for, -bein’ younger, you can git round spryer and find out new things to -teach him. His little hands, too, have drawed you and Spain nigher to -each other; you think as much agin of each other as you ust to, and I’m -glad on’t. - -“And how do you do?” sez I, a-holdin’ out my hand to little Alfonso. - -Sez I, “Are you pretty well, Bub?” - -He answered real pretty, and I then and there introduced little Adrian -to him, and I sez-- - -“I wish I had both of you children to Jonesville for a month in -strawberry time or blackberry time--it would do you both lots of good.” -And I sez to his ma-- - -“It seems to me he looks ruther pimpin’; have you gin him any smartweed -lately?” Sez I, “A syrup of smartweed and catnip, half and half, -sweetened with honey, would set him right up agin, and if you’d like -to try it, I will write and have Philury send you over a bundle of the -herbs.” - -She hesitated--I see she felt a delicacy about makin’ me so much -trouble. - -But I sez, “It won’t be no trouble at all--we’ve got more’n a floursack -full up in the woodhouse chamber.” - -She didn’t reply, but still looked sort o’ wonderin’ and queer. - -And I sez--“I will write to-day to Philury to send you a paper bag -full of the herbs, and a handful of spignut--that is dretful good for -a cold, if he happens to git one, and boys will, goin’ barefooted and -actin’.” Sez I, “Pour bilein’ water on ’em, and let ’em stand, and be -sure the water biles.” - -But at this minute their carriage driv up--they’d been a-walkin’ for -exercise, I guess. And though I presoom they hated to leave me--hated -to like dogs, they had to tear themselves away. - -But they bowed real polite to me, and Ulaley held out her hand and -shook hands. The Queen wuz busy with the little boy, but they both -bowed real polite after they got into the carriage. And then they driv -off. - -The carriage wuzn’t nigh so showy as some we see, and the Queen Regent -wuz dressed real plain. - -I believe she’s a real likely woman, and if anything happens to her, -and she should lose her property, I’d love to have her come and settle -down in Jonesville--I’d love to neighbor with her first rate. - -But I truly hope she won’t never have to make the move--I hope the -little King will have his Pa’s good nater, and his Ma’s good sense and -Christian sperit, and that Spain and he won’t have no fallin’ out, but -do well by each other. - -Wall, Martin and Alice went to a bull-fight. I waved off coldly -Martin’s request to accompany and go with ’em, though Josiah wuz, for a -minute, rampant to go. - -But I didn’t encourage him in it. - -He sez it would be sunthin’ to talk over with Ury and Deacon Bobbett -when I got home. - -This wuz his best argument, and I sez, “If I couldn’t talk over -anything but this I wouldn’t talk at all. The idee,” sez I, “of human -bein’s with hearts in their bosoms a-settin’ to see a wild animal kill -a human bein’, and visey versey.” Sez I, “If I should see it goin’ on I -should be so shamed on’t that I shouldn’t want to speak agin at all for -some time.” - -But sez Josiah, “It’s a national recreation; it’s fascinatin’; probble -you’d like it.” - -“Mebby,” sez I; “mebby my heart would git so hard that I could enjoy -it--I, that in days of pig and beef killin’ have always run into the -parlor bedroom and put my fingers in my ears to escape the sounds of -agony the poor brutes make.” Sez I, “Spozen if in them days I should -invite the minister and his folks and the Jonesvillians, and have high -seats built up aginst the side of the barn, and let ’em witness the -gory spectacle?” - -[Illustration: The Matador.] - -Josiah sot a minute in deep thought. “Wall,” sez he, “I’ll be hanged if -it wouldn’t be stylish. You could drape some turkey-red calico over the -top, kinder canopy style, and I and Ury could dress like them Spanish -Matadors with knee-breeches and a long sash, and some feathers in our -hats.” - -Sez he, growin’ enthused with the new idee, “We could use our winter -scarfs--they’re very gay colored; and I could take that long feather -out of your winter bunnet, and have it hang down gracefully over my -left shoulder, and I guess Tirzah Ann would lend me a couple to stand -up in front. I declare, it would be sunthin’ new and uneek, and we’ll -have it next fall.” - -I glared at him with a stuny look, and sez I--“And while you’re all -dressed up and enjoyin’ yourself, what of the poor dumb brutes who -are made to suffer the agony of death?” Sez I, “What happiness could -come to you built up on a custom of pain and sufferin’, bloodshed and -terrer? Let me hear no more about sech a seen.” - -“But,” sez he, “it would make talk; it would be the topic in all the -genteel circles of Jonesville and Loontown.” - -“If you should brain me with a tommyhawk it would make talk,” sez I. - -[Illustration: His Victim.] - -“The idee of your follerin’ sech a custom as this. I scorn and despise -sech doin’s, and I don’t see what a nation can be thinkin’ on to allow -it to go on.” - -Al Faizi writ down quite a lot in that book of hisen about the -bull-fightin’, and he seemed to be lookin’ for a peticular page to jot -down his notes. - -And Josiah sez (he hain’t no scruples about questionin’ the noble -heathen), sez he, “What are you lookin’ for, Fazer?” - -He sez calmly, “I am looking for the page where I wrote down the doings -of John Sullivan and other American prize-fighters. I wish to put -public exhibitions of this nature together.” - -His tone wuz as calm and serene as a cool afternoon in June. He hadn’t -a shade of sarcasm or irony in his axent; no, he simply grouped similar -occurrences together. - -And where wuz my feathers that had stood up hautily on my foretop -as I condemned another country’s doin’s and cuttin’s up? Where wuz -they? They wuz droopin’ and hangin’ down limp on my foretop as I sot -and meditated how we in America allowed prize-fighters to knock and -bruise and maim each other in public for the delight of the throngin’ -multitude. Then fill hull sides of our American newspapers with -minute details of their punchin’ and knockin’ down and actin’, for -the eyes of our youth to peruse and emulate. Deeds of religion and -science and philanthropy all pushed into the background, amongst the -advertisements, while the papers were flooded with the deeds of men -fighters and men killers. - -The idee! What wuz I, to talk about the doin’s of Spain or the doin’s -of a Josiah, and look down on ’em? Truly, folks who live in glass -housen mustn’t throw stuns; how many, many times I realized this deep -truth when I witnessed doin’s I didn’t like in foreign countries! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -A SPANISH FUNERAL AND A JONESVILLE ONE. - - -While we wuz in Madrid we felt that we ort to anyway visit the -Escuriel, that immense palace and monastery built by Philip II. He got -skairt, so I wuz told, and made a vow to St. Lawrence (it wuz on that -saint’s day) that if Lawrence would help him git the victory, he would -build a monastery and name it after him. So havin’ won the victory, -he did as he agreed. He built this immense structure; it took him -twenty-one years to do it. Out of compliment to Lawrence, who perished -on a gridiron, it wuz built in that form. - -I hearn Josiah a-explainin’ it that day. Sez he, “It wuz built in the -form of a gridiron because that is the best way of cookin’ beef.” Sez -he, “After their bull-fights they have immense quantities of beef, so -this takes its shape from that national characterestick.” - -But it hain’t no sech thing--he gits things wrong. - -Wall, it wouldn’t took us but a little while to git to the Escuriel if -the train had sprunted up and gone as fast as an American hand-car. - - -But we crept along so slow that it took us three hours. Before we got -there we see the buildin’ loomin’ up so vast, so gloomy, that it looked -like a mountain itself--a low, big mountain without much of a peak to -it. - -We had to approach it with some dignity, it bein’ a royal palace, -so we got into a big covered omnibus, drawed by four mules and two -horses. Though what peticular dignity there is in a mule I never see -before, unless it is in their ears. But we got there all right, the -driver a-yellin’ and whippin’ the mules as if he wuz crazy. If you want -beauty, you won’t git it in the Escuriel, but if you want size, there -you are suited. It takes up as much room as one of the pyramids; it has -two thousand rooms in it and five thousand winders, and the winders -wuzn’t very thick together, neither. - -There is a big meetin’-house in it, a palace and a monastery and a -Pantheon, where the dead kings and mothers of kings sleep and forgit -the troublesome days when they sot on thrones, and worried about their -children who wuz settin’. - -This meetin’-house is grand and imposin’; you can look down inside a -long, clear space of four hundred feet. Then there is a library, one of -the finest in Spain, and picters that are dretful impressive in number -and beauty. We wanted to see the private room of Philip II., and so we -wuz led up grand staircases and through apartment after apartment hung -with the costliest tapestry. - -And havin’ seen sech glory on the outside, what did we imagine must be -the splendor of the inner room, sacred to his majesty, where he sat -alone and sent out orders that ruled half or three quarters of the -world. - -Wall, I d’no as you’ll believe me when I say the floor wuz brick--not -even a strip of rag carpet on’t, sech as I spread down often in my back -kitchen. - -Poor creeter! I’d gin him a breadth of my best hit-or-miss carpet in -welcome if I’d lived in his day, and known how cold his feet must have -been as he stepped out of bed cold mornin’s onto that hard brick floor. - -[Illustration: How cold his feet must have been cold mornin’s.] - -And there wuzn’t a picter on the walls--not one, only a picter of the -Virgin. - -I’d a-gin him one of my chromos in welcome. I had two throwed in at -Jonesville with the last chocolate calico dress I bought. - -He should have had one on ’em, and I’d a-gin ’em both to him if it -would a-made that gloomy, mysterious creeter any happier; and most -probble they would have had their influence--they wuz very bright -colored. - -One hard wood chair and two stools wuz the only settin’ accommodations -he had. I’d made him a barrell chair, if I’d been there; if he’d wanted -to go in for cheapness, that would have suited him. Saw a seat out of -an old salt barrell and cushion it with a old bed-quilt and cover it -with cretonne. - -He could a-sot easy in it. Poor creeter! it made me feel bad to think -he always sot on that hard board chair--not a sign of a cushion in -it. I could have made a good cushion for it anyway out of hens’ -feathers. And mebby he wouldn’t been so hard on the nations if he’d sot -easier--it makes a sight of difference. Josiah wuz as hard agin on Ury -when he had a bile on his back, and couldn’t set easy. I didn’t know -but Ury would leave. - -Wall, Philip lived here fourteen years, and when he come to die, he -died hard, so they say. Mebby the oceans of blood he had caused to be -shed kinder swashed up aginst his conscience; if it did, I hope the -prayers he had knelt on the hard floor and prayed all night long sort o’ -lifted him up some. - -Queer creeter! strange and mysterious doin’s! A-prayin’ and a-fastin’ -and a-killin’, a-prayin’ and a-killin’ and a-fastin’! I am glad I -hain’t got to straighten out the dark and tangled skein of his life -and git the threads a-runnin’ even, and sort out the black threads and -the lighter ones and count ’em. - -No, it takes a bigger hand than mine to hold ’em, and a eye that looks -deeper into the soul of things. - -Wall, when he wuz dead at last they laid him in the Pantheon. We -visited the spot. We went down first into the big, eight-sided room, a -sort of annex, where princes and princesses lay, and then we went down -a long flight of steps with walls of jasper, into the room where kings -and queens lay asleep. - -This is a smaller room, but eight-sided, like the other. The dead lay -in black marble coffins, piled up on top of the other, the kings to -the right, the queens to the left. Wimmen have to take the second-best -place even down there in the grave, but then they wuz in a condition -where they couldn’t argy about it, and where it wouldn’t hurt their -feelin’s. - -It must have been a sight to see a king buried. No funeral in -Jonesville ever approached it in solemnity or mystery. - -You know they don’t give up that a king is dead till they go through -with certain performances, but they treat the dead body with all the -honor that they would give the livin’ monarch. When the procession gits -up to the door, the new-comer has to be announced. - -A voice sez, “Who would enter here?” - -They reply, “King Philip.” - -Then the door is thrown open, and all the long, illustrious procession -of the noblest in the land enter, and they lay the body of the king on -a table, for he has got to give his own consent, as it were, before -they will admit that he is dead--silence gives consent, they say. - -So after all are gone the Lord Chamberlain lifts the heavey, -gold-embroidered pall, and kneelin’ down by the side of his royal -master, looks long in his face to see if he recognizes him. But he -don’t. He lays cold and still as marble. - -Then he cries, “Señor! Señor! Señor!” and waits for a reply. But as no -answer comes, he sez-- - -“His Majesty does not answer! then indeed the king is dead!” - -So he takes the wand of office--the septer, I spoze--and breaks it over -the coffin in token of a power that has ceased to be. Then he locks the -marble coffin, hands the key to the Prior of the Monastery, and they go -up the long steps and leave the king to sleep with his own folks. - -It must have been a sight to see it go on. - -Why, a mourner who undertook sech doin’s in Jonesville or Loontown -would find himself lugged off to the loonatick asylum, or have threats -on’t. But the ways of countries differ--I didn’t make any moves to -break it up. I am very liberal minded, and then I meditated that it -wuzn’t my funeral. - -What made me say that a mourner in Jonesville couldn’t do sech a thing -wuz owin’ to a incident that came under my own observation. - -A man that lived in the outskirts of Jonesville, havin’ moved down -there from Zoar, got it into his head that he wuz goin’ to die on a -certain day at two o’clock in the afternoon. - -So what should that creeter do but write his own funeral sermon, and -gin out the word that he would preach it at one o’clock sharp. Because -he wuz to die at two precisely. - -He got his coffin made, his wife got her mournin’ clothes all done, -for he wuz so dead sure of the result that he had converted her to his -belief. So at one o’clock exactly the crowd gathered to see the corpse, -as you may say, preach its own funeral sermon. - -The coffin wuz in the parlor, the mourners come down from upstairs, -some on ’em weepin’ bitterly, and headed by the body, dressed in its -shroud, bearin’ its own funeral sermon. - -The mourners wuz arranged in orderly rows round the room (he wuz wide -connected), and the body stood by the head of the coffin and preached a -long sermon. - -He touched on the sins of his hearers, and of course they couldn’t -resent it in him, bein’ a corpse’s last thoughts, as you may say. - -He bore down hard on ’em, specially his relations--the more distant -ones, cousins and sech, and kinder rubbed up his bretheren and sistern -some. - -But to his wife he spoke words of tenderness, and in a touchin’ and -fervent manner spoke of what she had lost. He praised himself up to the -highest notch, and his wife sobbed out loud, and she had to be fanned -on both sides by a circuit minister and his wife, who wuz present; and -she sed to ’em that she had never mistrusted before what a prize she -had in her pardner. - -He then warned his children to grow up as nigh like their father as -they could conveniently, and he got ’em to sniffin’ and wipin’ their -noses. He then addressed the community, tellin’ ’em of their sinful -ways, and exhorted ’em to turn round and do better, and sed to ’em a -few words of consolation about the great blessin’ they had lost. - -And then he folded his shroud around him with one hand, and with quite -a lot of dignity he stepped up into a chair, and so into his coffin. -Then he laid down, arranged the folds of his shroud and crossed his -hands on his bosom and shet his eyes up. As he did so the clock struck -two. He laid a minute, while a dumbfoundered look swep’ over his -liniment, and anon a sheepish one. And then he lifted up his head and -looked round, and sez he-- - -“There must be some mistake.” - -And one of the cousins, one he had rasped down the hardest (they wuz at -swords’ pints anyway, caused by line fences), he hollered out-- - -“Yes, I should think there wuz, you dum fool you! gittin’ us all here -right in hayin’ time to hear your dum funeral sermon.” - -And another one he had reviled yelled out-- - -“Why didn’t you do as you agreed, you consarned loonatick, you!” - -And still another cried--“We’ll have the law on you for this! You -agreed to die, and we all got together for that purpose, and we’ll see -if we’re goin’ to be bamboozled and fooled in this way. It is all a -contrived plan to abuse us and make fun on us. But I’ll see if I can’t -make you sick of sech dum nonsense,” sez he. And he rushed for the -live body with sech vengeance in his eyes and a wooden stool in his -hand that the body’s wife precipitated herself onto the coffin, and sez -she-- - -“I will perish with this noble man, if die he must” (you see he’d -worked her all up about his worth). - -Wall, suffice it to say, the cousin wuz overmastered, and etiket -prevailed, and decorum wuz established, and the crowd dispersed, -leavin’ him still in his coffin, for he sed he wuz tired, and would lay -there for a spell. - -I believe he wuz ’fraid to git out. It kinder protected his lims and -body. But then mebby he told the truth; the sermon wuz a powerful one, -and delivered loud--it must have used up considerable wind. - -Wall, they talked hard of sendin’ Jake Bilhorn to the asylum. He -escaped it jest by the skin of his teeth, as the sayin’ is. His wife -testified to the last minute that his mind wuz weak, and he couldn’t -help it. But she would watch him, she sed, and take care on him. So it -wuz agreed that he should be let off on the Idiot Act, and she promised -to let him go to the loonatick asylum if he ever tried to git up any -sech performance agin. - -But I am a-eppisodin’, and a-eppisodin’ too fur, too fur. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -AL FAIZI SAYS GOOD-BYE. - - -Wall, the very next day, follerin’ and ensuin’ after our visit to the -Escuriel, Martin gin orders for the march. - -We wuz to git back to London at the rapidest rate possible, and from -thence embark for home. - -Home! sweet sound! No word ever did, or ever can, sound so sweet as -that word “home” duz hearn on a foreign shore. And though the journey -seemed long and perilous and full of fatigue and danger, yet Josiah and -I hearn it with joy. - -So after a journey that seems, to look back on’t, like a confused -dream of wonderful sights, and strange ones, rumatiz, car whistles, -big hotels, cold beds, dyspeptic food, groans, sithes, beautiful views -seen from flyin’ trains, talk in a strange language goin’ on round -me, murmured words from a pardner, better left onsaid, dreams of home -sot in a frame of foreign seenery, tired eyes and lims, dizzy flyin’ -through space, headache, etc., etc., etc., after this dream we found -ourselves in London. - -We parted with Al Faizi in London. It wuz on the eve of our departure. -Our tickets reposed in Martin’s vest-pocket, so I spoze, and our ship -wuz to sail on the morrer. - -The lamps wuz lit in our room, and their meller glow lit up the form of -my companion, clad in his dressin’-gown and layin’ outstretched on the -couch. - -I myself wuz a-rubbin’ my spectacles with shammy-skin. - -I see the minute that Al Faizi come in that he looked sort o’ agitated -and riz up like. And anon I understood the reason--he had come to bid -us good-bye. - -I felt mean--mean as a dog. I hated to have him go, though Common Sense -told me, and, of course, I didn’t spoze that I could in the common -nater of things lug round a heathen with me everywhere I went all my -life; but still I felt bad. - -After the first compliments wuz spoke, and he told us that he wuz -a-goin’, and we told him that we hated to have him go, and, etc., he -sez: - -“I have sought for the ways of love and truth all through these Western -lands--and now--” - -He paused, and only his dark, sad eyes spoke for quite a spell. Finally -I sez: - -“And now?” - -“I go back to my own country--I have many things to teach my people.” - -“Then you _have_ learnt some good things in my country and on our -tower?” sez I, glad and proud to hear him say so. - -But his soft voice resoomed--“I have to teach them many things--to -avoid.” - -[Illustration: “I go back to my own country--I have many things to -teach my people--to avoid.”] - -I felt deprested agin. “But,” sez I, wantin’ to git some closter view -of his mind--wantin’ to like a dog, for I hadn’t had, I can truly say, -any more clear view on’t than if we had lived some milds apart, sez -I, “you must have seen some things in this land worthy your approvin’ -of--these lofty cathedrals built to the honor of the Lord. To be sure,” -sez I, “the poor are a-flockin’ round ’em like a herd of freezin’ and -starvin’ animals. But look at the free schools and the great charities, -mighty and fur reachin’ in their influence.” - -“Yes,” sez Al Faizi, “I have seen some things in your land that I -will teach them to do. I have seen sweet charities--the sick and -unfortunate cared for; great free schools; crowds of little children -helped to better lives.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “a great many rich men and wimmen give their money like -water to help the poor and unfortunate. To be sure,” sez I, “the -poverty and the crime is caused, most of it, by ourselves, and Uncle -Sam bein’ so sot on that license business of hisen.” Sez I, “We cause -the evils we relieve in a great measure--but then--” - -I see that Al Faizi wuz a-lookin’ at me with that same calm, sweet -smile, and I’ll be hanged if it seemed as if I could go on a-drivin’ -them metafors right in front of it. It made me feel curous as a dog, -and curouser to think on’t. - -There it wuz, he a-settin’ right by me, and I couldn’t git a full, -clear view of what wuz a-goin’ on in his mind, his idees and emotions, -no more’n I can see the high trees in our orchard in a heavey -snow-storm. - -I spoze I showed my deep chagrin in my face, for he hastened to add: - -“Everywhere I see strivings after the Good--the Perfect Life. The -nations are feeling after God. But I see His truth covered up by a -network of man-made lies; and shadows of darkness, cast from human -comprehension, veil and shadow the sweet, just face of the Good. But -evermore my heart burns within me, and I long for the perfect way.” - -Right here my Josiah spoke up in this unappropos moment, and sez: - -“I hate to say good-bye, Fazer, but if you ever come up our way from -Hindoostan, or Egypt, or Africa, or wherever you are a-stayin’, you -must be sure to stop and stay overnight with us.” - -Adrian come in at that minute, and when I told him that Al Faizi was -a-biddin’ us good-bye, and wuz a-goin’ away, he put both arms around -his neck and nestled his head aginst him. Al Faizi pressed him clost -to his heart and bent his head low over him, and when he let him -go, sunthin’ bright shone amongst the curls and waves of Adrian’s -gold-brown locks, that Alice loved so well. - -Custom and pride makes folks reticent and keep their griefs to -themselves, but as long as human hearts are made as they be now, they -will ache. Love’s arrers are sharp winged; when they fly they don’t -take any note of where they are a-goin’, and the pain is keen and sharp -when they hit--bittersweet at any time, and sometimes bitter without -the sweet. The good Lord go with Al Faizi and comfort him, so I sez to -myself. - -He took both of my hands in his little brown ones, and it seemed as if -he would never let ’em go. - -“I will never forget you!” he cried; “you have had for me the kind -heart and kind deeds of a mother.” - -I thought to myself that he might jest as well sed a “sister” while he -wuz about it, but then I laid it to the excitement of the occasion--I -wuz excited myself and felt bad. I hated to have him go, and when he -wuz a-goin’ to let go of my hands I didn’t know. I wuz a-thinkin’ that -if he offered to kiss me I didn’t know what I should do--it wuzn’t -nothin’ I wanted, leavin’ Josiah out of the question, but I didn’t know -what he would take it into his head to do. But he didn’t offer nothin’ -of the kind, which I wuz glad enough on. But he gin my hands a long, -hard clasp, and sez he: - -“Farewell!” And then he let go. He looked bad, sorrerful as death. And -I sez, onbeknown to me: - -“Won’t you wait and bid good-bye to Alice?” - -“No,” sez he; “I leave with you my farewell to her. May heaven bless -her!” sez he. - -“Amen!” sez I. - -It wuz some as if we wuz to protracted meetin’, only more strange-like, -and mebby not quite so protracted, but curouser. - -Sez I, with a real good axent--“My heart will go with you, Al Faizi; -I shall think of you when you’re fur away, some as I do of my own -boy--knowin’ that you are doin’ your best for your own soul, and for -everybody round you.” - -“I go to my own people,” sez he sadly. “Forevermore will I work to help -them to the right way--help them to understand the teachings of the -Lord Christ. Nowhere else do I find such a pure religion as His. In my -own home, far away beyond the dark waters”--and he made that gester of -his towards the East--“I will work till I die to bring my people to -know this great love, this mighty King. And there also I will pray that -your people, too, may follow His teachings, and the people in the great -countries I have visited with you, that these lands may renounce their -false ways, and follow His gentle and lovely guidance, and be led into -His truth. I will give my life for this,” sez he. - -His tone wuz sweet and tender. It sounded to me sunthin’ like the -autumn winds a-rustlin’ the leaves over the grave of the one you love. - -I wuz almost a-cryin’, and sez I: - -“Shan’t we ever see you agin?” - -He pinted upwards, his eyes wuz full of the love and passion of -devotion, of Christian feelin’. - -“We will meet in that great land,” sez he. - -I wuz dretful riz up and glad and deprested and sorry all to one time. -I felt queer. - -But Josiah had to holler most the last minute. Sez he, “What are you -a-goin’ to do with that book of yourn, Fazer?” - -“I will use it to help teach my people--to avoid the mistakes of -civilization.” - -Josiah sez, “Good for you, Fazer!” - -And I sez, “I always felt that we ort to have missionaries come over -here to teach us how to behave.” - -But his face had no triumph in it--no look of reproach, only that sweet -smile rested on it that made his face look better than any face I ever -see, or ever expect to see. - -And agin he took my hand in his little brown one; agin he said -“Farewell,” and he wuz indeed gone. - -I didn’t git over it all day. - -I felt some as if the meetin’-house to Jonesville should dissapear -mysteriously, as if sunthin’ good had vanished, and some as if my boy -Thomas J. should go off out of my sight for some time. - -Adrian mourned for him several hours. Alice wuz writin’ a letter home, -and didn’t hardly seem to know that he wuz gone, and Martin wuz glad, I -believe. He had never took to him for a minute. - -Wall, I will hang up a thick moreen curtain between my readers and the -voyage homewards. - -It needs a thick curtain to hide the fraxious, querilous complaints and -the actin’s of my pardner, the howlin’s of the wind and waves, and the -usual discomforts of a sea voyage. - -There are times when Heaven knows I wuz glad to hide behind it myself. - -Yes, I will cower down behind the thick folds, knowin’ that I am doin’ -the best I can for myself and the world at large. Yes, I will let ’em -droop down over our voyage through the wild waves, our arrival in our -own dear native land, our feelin’s when we see the shore we loved dawn -on us out of the mist, and when we sot our feet on the sile of the -Continent that wears Jonesville like a pearl of great price on its -tawny old bosom. - -I will also let its thick folds screen us in our partin’ from Martin -and the children, and our lonely but short journey by our two selves. - -And I will only loop that curtain back in graceful folds as we draw -nigh to Jonesville--Mecca of our hearts’ hopes and love. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -HOME AGAIN, FROM A FOREIGN SHORE. - - -Jonesville wuz bathed in the rosy hue of sunset when Ury let down the -bars and we passed up into the lane leadin’ to our dear home--that -sweet, restful haven, into which Josiah and me truthfully felt that our -barks would sail in and be moored forever and ever. - -Yes, we both felt that nothin’, nothin’ could tempt us agin to spread -our sails and float out of that blessed Home Harbor. - -How soft the light fell onto the white curtains with lace agin’! How -sweet the rosy glow illumined the piaza and front yard, and how it -played round the red chimblys and Philury’s collar, as she stood in the -front stoop to welcome us home! Inside the house wuz all lit up, and -when we entered, there wuz the children all come to surprise us, and -welcome us home. They had sent Philury out, like the dove, on the front -doorstep, while they stayed in the ark to surprise Ma and Pa when we -come. - -[Illustration: They had sent Philury out, like a dove, on the front -doorstep to meet us.] - -Oh, how glad they wuz to see us, and visey versey. Yes, indeed, I -guess it wuz visey versey--the children and grandchildren almost eat us -up, and we them. - -A beautiful supper wuz a-waitin’ the tired-out travellers. The girls -had laid to and helped, and it wuz a supper long to be remembered, and -the children’s and the grandchildren’s demeanors to us wuz as tender -as the briled chicken and cream biscuit, and the ties of love that -united us all together wuz as strong as the coffee, and stronger, too, -and mellered down by our happiness, jest as that wuz with lump-sugar -and rich cream. And, oh, how good! how good it did feel to be to home! -Josiah the first thing pulled off his boots and went round in his -stockin’ feet. - -I sez, “Why do you do that, Josiah?” - -“Oh, for no reason, only to swing out and do jest as I’m a-mind to. -After bein’ cramped and hampered for months, I’m a-goin’ to act and -feel to home, and I’m a-goin’ barefoot for a spell,” sez he, “as soon -as the children go.” - -And, sure enough, he did, for all I could do and say, and he sung -several pieces while I wuz ondressin’--he sung ’em loud. I remember he -sung the hull of “Robert Kidd” and “André’s Lament,” besides some hymns. - -Sez he, “I’ve been pent up and bound down so long that I’m a-goin’ to -swing right out and act all I want to.” - -And happy--why, happy is no name for the feelin’s of that man, and I -felt the same--yes, indeed! Only, as my nater is, I acted more megum, -though I did kinder jine in with him in the chorus-- - - “My name is Robert Kidd, - As I sailed, as I sailed.” - -I wuz so perfectly happy that I had to. - -And when he struck into the hymns I jined in strong, right there in my -nightgown--“On Canaan’s happy banks I stand,” and “Long time I have -wandered,” and etcetery. - -Why, Josiah sung the most of the time for days and days. - -When Deacon Henzy come to see him, instead of advancin’ and shakin’ -hands dignified, as a foreign traveller ort to, he jest advanced onto -him, a-singin’ loud-- - - “Home agin, Deacon, home agin, from a foreign shore. - And, oh! it fills my soul with joy - To greet Deacon Henzy and the rest of the Jonesvillians once more.” - - * * * * * - -It spilte the meter, but he didn’t care. He acted fairly crazed with -joy to be home. - -The first thing he done the next mornin’ when he got up wuz to throw -his best clothes in a sort of a scornful heap behind his closet door. -He throwed ’em some as if he hated the very sight on ’em. When I found -’em afterwards, all tumbled in together, we had a number of words. - -But, as I say, he throwed his best clothes there, and specially his -stiff collars and cuffs--them looked some as if they’d been trompled on. - -And then that man got on the worst-lookin’ pair of pantaloons and vest -you ever see--holes in the knees, and the vest ripped up in the back, -and the pockets hangin’ outside. I’d been a-savin’ ’em for carpet rags. - -And he went down suller and took a old coat offen the apple-ben. We had -used it for two winters to cover up the apples in extra cold nights. -And the land knows where he got the hat he put on--a old straw, the rim -a-hangin’ half off, and the crown all jammed in. I guess he found it up -in the woodhouse chamber. - -But, anyway, his looks wuz sech, so onbecomin’ to a deacon and a -pathmaster, let alone a cultered gentleman of foreign travel, that I -took him to do sharply about it. - -[Illustration: His looks wuz so onbecomin’ to a deacon and a -pathmaster.] - -Sez I, “I won’t have you a-goin’ round lookin’ worse than any old -scarecrow, Josiah Allen.” - -He took up a position in front of me, where his rags showed off to the -most plainest advantage, and sez he-- - -“As you see me now, Samantha, you will see me henceforth. I -shall never, never be dressed up agin as long as I retain my -conscientiousness.” - -He spoke so firm, I felt some browbeat and skairt. - -Sez I faintly, “Do you expect to go through your life a-lookin’ as you -do now?” - -“Always, always, Samantha; only worse, if I can manage it.” Sez he -bitterly, “I am a man that has been dressed up too long; the iron -has entered too deep into my soul--the worm has turned,” sez he. “I -calculate to go in rags the rest of my life. And I wish,” sez he in a -pleadin’ axent, “I wish that you would promise that you would bury me -in this suit--that you would take a vow that I shall not be dressed up.” - -I wuz at my wits’ end; he looked as determined as any old hen turkey -ever did on her nest. - -But by a happy inspiration I sez-- - -“Wouldn’t you ruther lay in your dressin’-gown, Josiah? Think of them -beautiful tossels,” sez I. - -I see a change come over his mean; he wavered and turned onto his heel, -and went out-doors. - -And I may as well tell the end on’t. It wuz that dressin’-gown that -gradual won him back into decenter clothin’. - -I lured him into that at first, and then gradual into pepper-and-salt, -and so on to broadcloth; but it wuz a hard tussle! Collars and cuffs -wuz my worst battle-field, but I got the victory over ’em at last. - -Oh, dear me, dear me, suz! what hard times female pardners do have anon -or oftener; but yet I believe that pardners pay, after all. - -And it did seem so good to walk round the house, free and ontrammelled, -and see the old bureaus and tables once more, and sasspans and things; -and go out into the garden and see the garden-truck, and walk out to -the barn and gather the eggs, and count the chickens. - -And plunge into all the sweet delights that make home a perfect Eden. - -Yes, we both felt that we should never want to move a inch from our own -fireside. But how little--how little we can tell what is ahead on us in -the onseen futer. - -In this case Alice wuz ahead. - -We hadn’t been to home more’n several weeks when that sweet creeter -wrote to me, urgin’ me hard to come and see her. - -She didn’t make no open complaints, but all through the letter I could -read between the lines, as it wuz, the echoes of a sad heart. - -I felt, as I read it, that I ort to go right away and see her. - -But I hated to leave home agin--I hated to like a dog. - -So I writ her back as lovin’ a letter as I could, and I kinder waved -off the subject of my comin’, sayin’ I’d come jest as soon as I could. - -A week or more passed, then come a letter from Martin, sayin’ Alice -wuzn’t very well, and had sot her heart on seein’ me--wouldn’t I come? - -I went. - -Alice wuz dretful glad to see me, and in my lovin’ sympathy her white -face seemed to git a little more color and brightness into it. - -Good land! I see what ailed her jest as well as though I had took our -big parlor lamp and walked through her mind. - -Her father wuz jest as determined as ever that she should have nothin’ -to do or say to Richard Noble. - -And bein’ right here by his side, as it were, and forbid to see him or -speak to him made it fur worse than it wuz when they wuz seperated by -a ocean. Her Pa had planned in his own mind that this trip should ween -her from him. But how mistook he wuz! - -She had carried a faithful, lovin’ heart over the Atlantic, and had -brung it back with her. - -Distance had only drawed the ends of the love-knot, unitin’ their souls -all the tighter. They couldn’t be ontwisted now by the hands of a -Martin--no, indeed! - -Martin wuz dretful good to me. He see that Alice loved me and -brightened up considerable in my presence. And that would have made -Miss Belzebub welcome. - -And Adrian, how he did hang round me, sweet little creeter that he wuz! - -Yes, Alice wuz the same, and Martin wuz the same as before his trip. He -kep’ right on in the same old roteen of money-makin’, and money-savin’, -and obstinacy, and sotness, and ambition, and etcetery. - -I found that out only a few mornin’s after I got there. - -I happened to take up a daily paper, and I read a piece in it about -a horrible axident that had took place right there in the city a -few days before--two children killed, and the driver of the car had -died from the effects of the horrow and remorse he had experienced in -causin’ the death of the two children. - -_Died!_ when the poor creeter wuz no more guilty than a babe for it. He -wuzn’t no more guilty than the spokes in the wheels. They all wuz run -by another’s orders. - -As I sed, I wuz so horrified by it, that I felt that mad him or not, I -must tackle Martin about the matter. - -And I found that he wuz as stiffnecked and rambellous as a iron-clad -about it. - -And we had a number of words. - -And in the course of our conversation I atted Martin agin about -Alice’s lover. For her big, sad eyes had follered me all the time I’d -been there, and I had vowed in my heart that I would help her to her -happiness if I could. - -As I sed, the pretty creeter had took her faithful heart over the -Atlantic, and carried it round with her all the time she wuz there, and -had brung it back with her. - -Movin’ the body round don’t change the soul. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -MARTIN’S TERRIBLE LESSON. - - -Wall, I found that Martin wuz as immovable and sot as a rock. “As for -Alice,” sez he, “I told you six months ago what I should do, and I -never change my mind.” - -And agin I sez, “Sometimes folks are made to change their minds when -they don’t mean to or want to.” - -But before I could multiply any more words with him a servant come in -to say that a paintin’ had come that Martin had ordered while he wuz -abroad. And he asked me quite polite to go in and see it. - -He wuz glad of the interruption. He wanted to change the subject--he -wanted to like a dog. - -The picter had been onpacked, and wuz standin’ in the big hall, waitin’ -for Martin to decide where to hang it. - -It wuz called “The Mother’s Sacrifice,” and wuz the picter of a Eastern -mother, who wuz a-throwin’ her child under the wheels of a juggernaut -to insure its everlastin’ salvation. - -Her face wuz torn with love and duty. It wuz a impressive picter. He -gin twenty thousand dollars for it, for he told me so. - -Sez Martin as we looked at it, full of the rich Oriental glow of forest -and landscape, and the dark, frenzied beauty of the mother’s face and -the innocent beauty of the child, who trusts to her love and care and -don’t mistrust its impendin’ doom-- - -Sez Martin, “What a struggle is going on in that woman’s breast! how -her heart is torn between her love for the child and her religious -belief! What a masterly handling of the subject!” sez he. - -“Yes,” sez I; “but what of the hearts of the mothers who see their -children crushed down under jest as murderous wheels, and don’t have -her religious zeal to hold ’em up? That Eastern mother thinks that this -will insure her child’s eternal well-bein’--she thinks the wheels move -on in the cause of eternal good. What would she think if she wuz a -American mother, and knew these wheels murdered her child jest to save -a little money--jest out of wicked, graspin’ avarice?” - -Sez Martin coldly, “I don’t know what you mean.” - -Sez I, “Yes you do, Martin; I mean your trolley cars, that move on and -crush down childhood and age, when a little bit of money you spend for -this ficticious woe would relieve the real agony which is goin’ on -right before your front gate through your own neglect.” - -I would gin him some sech little delicate hints, whether he liked it or -lumped it, as the sayin’ is. Agin he sez in that dretful dignified way -of hisen, “I don’t know what you mean,” and turned away. - -But jest as I wuz withdrawin’ myself from the seen, for I felt that -these little blind hits I gin him wuz enough for the present, Adrian -come in, and Martin called out-- - -“Well, dear little Partner, what do you want?” - -And Adrian sez, “Alice and I are going out driving, and I wanted to say -good-bye to you.” - -Martin kissed the pretty face, with his adorin’ love for the child -a-showin’ plain in him. And then Adrian come and kissed me, his gold -curls fallin’ back from his little, earnest face, and his black velvet -cap a-settin’ ’em off first rate, and he sez to me, “Good-bye;” and I -hadn’t any way of knowin’ that that good-bye would echo through the -long futer and die out only at the Dark Portal. - -Martin took out his purse and took out a roll of bills and handed ’em -to Adrian, and sez he, “Hand that to your sister; I was going to give -it to her last night--it is for a necklace she wanted. Be careful of -it,” sez Martin as Adrian took it; “it is five thousand dollars, and -that is worth taking care of, little partner.” - -Wall, they sot off, and I went back into a little settin’-room acrost -the hall from Martin’s study and took up a book and went to readin’. - -It wuz a interestin’ book, and I wuz carried away--some distance away -from the big city and trolley cars. - -When I heard a hum of a good many voices in Martin’s room, and the door -bein’ open, I couldn’t help hearin’ what they wuz a-sayin’. It seemed -to be a deputation of some kind a-askin’ Martin for some favor or other. - -For I heard him say out loud, “I am sick of these complaints.” - -His tone wuz cold--cold as a iceberg. There wuz one man amongst ’em who -seemed to be the speaker; he sez, “We are workingmen; we have homes and -families. We work hard every day. We leave our children, that we may go -away and earn food and clothing for them; our houses are the best that -we can afford, but the best that we can pay for lay in the populous -region where so many lives are lost by these cars. I know you are the -owner of that line, and we have come to appeal to you.” - -Sez Martin agin, “I am sick to death of these everlasting complaints.” - -[Illustration: Sez Martin agin, “I am sick to death of these -everlasting complaints.”] - -His tone wuz cold--cold as a frog, and I see from his voice that he wuz -mad--mad as a wet hen. - -The man that answered him I could see from where I sot wuz evidently -jest a plain workin’-man, jest like ’em that you meet in droves at 7 -o’clock in the mornin’ and six at night. - -But I liked his looks--he looked rugged and honest, and his voice had a -uncultured ring of common sense and honesty, and at times a deep sorrer -and sense of wrong touched it to a rude eloquence. - -Martin sez, and his tone wuz cold and smooth as a icesuckle in a -January mornin’-- - -“What is it that you want me to do, anyway--tell me as briefly as you -can, for my time is valuable.” - -Sez the man agin, “We are workingmen and poor, and we do not expect to -have many things that rich people have, but we do want our children -to be educated. They must go out alone to their schools while their -mothers are at home working to make a decent home for them, and they -cannot follow them only with their thoughts and prayers. - -“These cars going with the swiftness of lightning through these -thronged streets, with no safeguard to protect them, are the means of -making fathers’ and mothers’ hearts ache with fear and dread. - -“One of my own children, a bright little lad, my only son, dear to me -as my own life, was crushed down by them on his way to school.” The -man’s voice broke here, for a rush of feeling swep’ up agin his voice, -and stopped it. - -“Another of these men lost a child, another saw an old mother crushed -down before his eyes as she tried to cross the street, another--” - -“There is no need of repeating all this to me. What do you want me -to do?” I see by Martin’s voice that he wuz madder than that wet hen -a-settin’, and obstinate. - -“We want to have you give orders to go more slowly through crowded -places and put fenders on the cars, so as to lessen the peril as much -as may be, so we poor people, who have to live and labor in these -dangerous places, can carry a lighter heart to our hard daily toil.” - -“Leave me your address,” sez Martin sharp and cold, “and I will -communicate with you.” Then sez he, “James, show these men to the -door. Good-morning,” sez he. The door closed on the men, and Martin -crossed the hall with a quick step, and come right into the room where -I sot. In his haste to git out of their sight he had, as the sayin’ is, -“jumped from the fryin’-pan into the fire.” - -For I sez, and tears wuz in my eyes as I sed it-- - -“You will grant their request, Martin?” - -“No, I will not grant their request;” and he went on sarcastically, “I -don’t know what you people want. Do you want to do away with cars and -railroads and go back to ox-teams and pillions? Here a few men take a -big risk, put all their capital into an enterprise, doing the public -an incalculable good, and then they have to be badgered night and day -by the very ones they have benefited, and by a set of philanthropic -fools.” I guess he meant me by that last term, but I didn’t care; I -wouldn’t have cared if he’d called me a plain fool--I knew I wuzn’t. -When you are out a-ketchin’ a tiger you don’t care for a muskeeter’s -bite; no, your mind is sot on the tiger. - -I sez, “The cost is but triflin’ to one of your means. Why not do it?” - -“Because I am capable of attending to my own business, and I am not -to be bossed by a lot of workingmen and wild-eyed reformers and -sentimental idiots--I’ll do what I please.” - -Sez I, “Mebby you will, Martin, and mebby you won’t.” - -Jest as I said these words a cry come up from the streets--“A child run -over! a lady killed! a child and a lady killed!” - -“There,” sez Martin, actin’ impatient and mad as anything--“there is -another text for you, Cousin Samantha; and probably the whole car full -of people, who have rode all over the city for five cents, will all -join in and shriek at me as a murderer and a villain, because a couple -of fools have started to cross the track just in front of a car; in -nine cases out of ten the fault is their own.” - -But the cries outside grew louder and louder, and finally Martin went -to the winder, kinder flingin’ himself along in a sort of a impatient -way; and he had been nagged considerable--I had to admit it. - -He went to the winder, which looked down onto the broad street below. -He looked a minute; then shriekin’ out-- - -“My God! my God!” - -He fell down jest like a log at my feet. - -[Illustration: He fell down jest like a log at my feet.] - -And what wuz the sight that struck him down like a arrer? - -Two men of the very deputation that had jest left the house wuz -bearin’ between ’em the crushed form of a little boy--gold curls wuz -hangin’ back from the velvet cap. A kind hand had covered the little -disfiggered face with a handkerchief. Behind, two more of the men and a -policeman wuz carryin’ the crushed, senseless form of Alice. - -I hearn all about it afterwards. There wuz a florist jest acrost from -Martin’s, where a little bend in the road made it impossible to stop. -Little Adrian had jumped out of the carriage and run to choose a bokay -of flowers to gin to me. They wuz the English voyalets he loved so -well. One of ’em wuz in the buttonhole of the little velvet coat. - -Dear little creetur! - -And as he ran back the flowers fell; he stopped to pick ’em up, and the -car swep’ down on him. Alice see his danger, she jumped to save him, -only to be struck down herself. - -Wall, what tongue of men or angels shall describe the seen that -follered and ensued. - -Martin layin’ in a dead faint, like death to all appearance--and it is -blood relation to it. Little Adrian layin’ white and cold on a couch in -the reception-hall, where the men had reverently laid him, right under -the picter of that Eastern mother. - -The agony in her dark face seemed to be for him, too--the fair-haired -child of the race who condemn their barbarity, and practise worse. - -And Alice a-layin’ white and onconscious, but breathin’ still, in her -own room. One round, white arm a-hangin’ broken by her side, and blood -streamin’ from a cruel gash in her head. - -Wall, the best doctors in the city wuz there in a few minutes. But all -their genius and wisdom and learnin’ could not bring back the spark of -life that had flown away from little Adrian’s body. - -And then afterwards the clergyman come and whispered consolin’ words to -Martin in his darkened chamber. - -But not all the preachin’ since Adam can make death other than death. - -Martin didn’t want the clergyman--he wanted to be alone. He wouldn’t -see anybody, and he lay still and cold after his senses come back--so -still and cold that the doctors feared for his sanity, and even for his -life. - -The first glimpse of interest he showed wuz when they told him that -there wuz a chance for Alice to live. - -He turned his face towards the wall (so the nurse told me, a good, -faithful creeter with a strong breath, caused by stimulants, I believe). - -[Illustration: A faithful creeter with a strong breath, caused by -stimulants, I believe.] - -Sez she, “I went to the foot of the bed and looked up, and see tears -a-streamin’ down his white face. But I dare not speak to him,” sez -she--“no, I dare not.” - -Sez she, “His face had that look on it that it frightened me, and it -gave me such a turn that I feel weak yet. I guess,” sez she, “I will -take a drop to nerve me up. Don’t you want a drop of stimulant, too?” -sez she. - -“No, indeed,” sez I, “I don’t!” - -“But,” sez I, “poor creeter, do everything you can for him, for the -hand of the Lord has dealt sorely with him. And,” sez I, “I would -gladly help him if I could, but I can do nothin’ but pray for him.” - -Wall, there wuz a big funeral in the church where little Adrian had -been baptized when he wuz a baby. - -The minister, a very eloquent and high-priced one, preached a beautiful -sermon about the inscrutable mysteries of our lives, and the mystery of -the Providence who should take, in sech a onforeseen and onheard-of way -the child of sech a man, who had spent his hull life for the good of -the people--that angelic man, who wuz a-layin’ now in his palatial home -at the pint of death. - -These last words affected the congregation dretfully. A maiden jest -behind Martin’s pew and a widder jest in front (who both had hopes) -sallied away and partially fainted, and the widder had to be borne out -by the sexton. - -And as she wuz heavey, it bore hard on him. The old maid revived in -time to see the widder carried out. Widders always will go further and -resk more than the more single ones. - -And the maiden wuz wroth for fear that Martin should hear of it that -she didn’t go so fur herself as the widder did. - -I myself didn’t faint nor shed tears. I sot up straight in that -luxurious pew and kep’ a-sayin’ in my heart-- - -“Oh, God help that wretched man! God help and comfort him, for nothin’ -else can!” - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -“GOOD-NIGHT, LITTLE PARDNER.” - - -Wall, that night after the funeral I wuz called down into the parlor to -see a stranger--a good deal devolved on me in that awful time; I kep’ -calm, or tried to, and that calmness wuz like a paneky to ’em round me, -and they didn’t see the tumult of pity and grief that wuz a-goin’ on -inside of my heart onbeknown to ’em. - -I went down into the hall, and there I found a handsome, noble-lookin’ -young man, whose face wuz so white with anguish and dread that I knew -before he spoke who he wuz, and sez I right out the first thing, -a-holdin’ out both my hands-- - -“Alice is better.” - -He grasped holt of my hands as if he wouldn’t never let go. - -Sez he, “God bless you for saying that!” He wouldn’t go into the -parlor, nor set down, or nothin’. But it got to be my stiddy practice -to go down into that hall two or three times a day to gin him news, and -as the news grew brighter every day, jest so his face grew brighter, -till it got luminous with joy and gratitude the day I told him that -Alice wuz out of danger. - -Wall, there come a day, long to be remembered, when Martin sent for me. -I wuz the first one he asked to see. He couldn’t talk much, and I jest -grasped his hand and sez-- - -“I have been prayin’ for you, Martin.” - -“I knew it,” he whispered, “I knew you would.” - -And that wuz about all I could say. But I spoze he felt the pity and -sympathy that oozed out of my sperit onbeknown to me as I looked down -onto that broken-hearted man, and he seemed to like to have me round -his room. - -Wall, it wuz weeks before I could go home, Josiah a-bearin’ up nobly, -aided by Philury, and a-bravely eatin’ pancakes in her hours of too -burdened haste, and a-writin’ to me to stay if I could be of any -comfort to ’em. - -Noble man that he is, though small boneded I am proud of him--a good -deal of the time I am. - -Wall, there come a time when Martin, a-settin’ up in his study and -a-lookin’ over his papers, sent for me, and spoke to me for the first -time of Adrian. - -He didn’t cry. His speechless grief wuz beyend that relief, but he gin -me to understand that his life wuz a blank to him now. - -Sez I, “Martin, remember that Alice is left to you--you have one child -left.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “but I want my boy!!” and he busted right out into -tears, and buried his face in his hands. - -[Illustration: He busted out into tears and buried his face in his -hands.] - -Sez I, “Martin, do you remember what the dear little boy said--he wuz -a-goin’ to be your pardner?” - -He groaned, “Why do you speak of that? Do you want to kill me?” - -“I want to help you, Martin.” - -“Do you ever think that Adrian can be your pardner now, better than he -ever could if he wuz on earth--as much better as the glorified sperit -is above our common humanity?” - -But agin he groaned out, “I want my boy!” - -“It is hard, Martin,” sez I, a-layin’ my hand on his bowed-down -shoulders. - -“It is hard to know that the sweet little voice is silent on earth, but -he can hear you--he is a-hearin’ you this minute; he hears the language -of your sperit as you vow to ondo the past so fur as you can--to go on -in the futer and work for the poor, as he wanted to. - -“You can’t go agin these strong desires of your little pardner, -Martin--you’ve got to hear to ’em. He is your pardner now jest as much -as he ever wuz, and more, only he has gone over the deep waters into -another country to tend to the interests of the firm there. It is a -country where the Right is always done, where things that are wrong -here are made right--he will help you, Martin. He wanted to work for -the poor; why not let him?” - -He lifted his white face, tears a-streamin’ down it, but as my meanin’ -dawned on him his mean grew a little mite brighter. - -Sez I, “He is a-workin’ now for ’em.” Sez I, “I see in the new look in -your eyes the divine work of your pardner. - -“He is helpin’ you this minute to think softer thoughts. He is helpin’ -you to remember that you are to spend your money and his--for you told -him that it belonged to you both equally--in helpin’ the poor, in -helpin’ to surround their lives with safeguards,” sez I, a-wantin’ to -strike while the iron wuz hot. - -“You are a-goin’ to git some fenders right off, Martin.” - -“Order five hundred of them right off--send for a thousand of them.” - -“No,” sez I, “Martin, be megum. You’ve got to be megum in fenders -as well as any other goodness. Why order a thousand fenders for one -hundred cars? - -“But,” sez I, “Martin, I will send for ’em.” And I did, that very day, -not knowin’ but he would be some like Pharaoh, and his heart would -be hardened before night. I told his secretary within a hour, and he -ordered ’em before sundown on my word. Oh, they think high on me--all -on ’em! He dassent refuse to take my orders. - -But I’d no need to have worried--no, indeed! I felt ashamed to think I -had let my mind sally back to that old Egyptian Pharaoh. - -Martin’s repentance didn’t prove to be short-lived and evanescent--no, -indeed! - -He divided his property equally between himself and his little pardner. -He invested his pardner’s money to the best of his knowledge, and every -cent of the interest of that money, and it is a immense sum--millions -of dollars. He uses it only as the steward of his pardner. It all goes -to help the poor--to try to defend ’em from dangers, temporal and -speritual, from want, and from the worst of all dangers--Ignorance and -Crime. - -Dear little Silent Pardner! I wonder if you know it? I wonder if, when -grateful hearts rise in prayer, callin’ you the saviour of their lives -and happiness--I wonder if them prayers and grateful thoughts bloom out -in some divine way, as they reach the Heavenly country, so you can see -the desire of your little heart, and know that it is granted? - -Are you ever permitted to come down in the stillness of a Summer -evenin’ and stand clost by the side of that white-haired old man, -who grew old so fast after you left him, whose heart yearns for you, -and who is a-tryin’ so faithfully to carry out his little pardner’s -wishes? He sez that sometimes he feels that you are so near to him that -he almost expects to see your face blossom out of the dark, like the -evenin’ star out of the misty twilight. And so he can live, he sez. - -Did you stand in the church when Alice wuz married to the man she -loved? A ray of gold light shone out sudden and luminous and lit her -sweet face as she took her solemn vows. - -Wuz it you, little Pardner? wuz the joy and glory in your face -permitted to shine for a moment on the one you loved, in the supreme -hour of her life? - -We can’t tell this, little Adrian, but we see your work goin’ on from -day to day, and we bless you for it. - -We see it in the safety and protection thrown around the masses, -protectin’ ’em from physical and moral ills; in the great free school -which bears your name; in the Adrian Home, where sick and poor children -find a home and tender care; in the University, where your picter hangs -over the doorway--a doorway where any poor, ignorant boy may enter, -and go out a scholar; in the large, plain church, whose best ornament -is the stained-glass winder bearin’ your name in gold letters, where -a pure Christianity is taught to all, rich and poor, and the Blessed -Master is brought near to sad lives by the anointed lips of consecrated -genius--where rich and poor worship the God man together. The poor -givin’ their strength and good-will, the rich givin’ their wealth and -learnin’, and so becomin’ a strong bulwark, protectin’ society from the -high flood of undisciplined passions--Ignorance and Crime. - -Do you see it all, little Pardner? Sometimes I think you do. - -I am writin’ this at the open winder you looked out of as you sed you -would work for the poor. - -And as I think how you have worked for ’em, and are still a-workin’, my -heart is as full of the thought of you, little Adrian, as the voyalets -you loved are filled with their strong, onseen perfume. - -And as I set askin’ these questions, the twilight shades are fallin’, -the evenin’ star shines bright above the golden west. - -And wuz that the odor of English voyalets that swep’ by the open winder -on the night breeze? There’s a bed of ’em down in the garden. Did the -soft breeze come from that way--or further off? - -But I stop and lean out of the winder and say-- - -“Good-night, little Adrian--good-night, little Pardner--till mornin’.” - -And wuz that a soft, fur-off echo, or wuz it my own thoughts that -repeated--“Till mornin’”? - -[Illustration: FINIS.] - - - - -Other Works by Josiah Allen’s Wife. - - -Poems. - - A Charming Volume of Poetry. By “Josiah Allen’s Wife.” - Beautifully Illustrated by W. H. Gibson and other Artists. - Beautifully bound. Square 12mo, 216 pp. Cloth, $2.00. - - “Will win for her an honorable place among American - poets.”--_Chicago Standard._ - - -Samantha Among the Brethren. - -By “Josiah Allen’s Wife.” 100 Illustrations. Square 12mo, 452 pp. -Cloth, $2.50. - - “It is irresistibly humorous and true.”--_Bishop John P. - Newman._ - - “It is full of meat as an egg.... Calculated to do immense - good in that department of women’s rights which relates - to her participation in the great work of the Church - of Christ, _beyond the scrubbing and papering of the - meeting-house_.”--_Ex-Judge Noah Davis._ - - -Sweet Cicely; - -Or, Josiah Allen as a Politician. A Fascinating Story. Square 12mo, 390 -pp. 100 Illustrations. Cloth, $2.00. - - “The interest of the book is immense.... Never was such - a defender of women’s rights, never was such an exponent - of women’s wrongs! In Samantha’s pithy, pointed, scornful - utterances we have in very truth the expression of feelings - common to most thoughtful women, well understood among them, - but rarely finding voice except in confidential intercourses - and for sympathetic ears.... Alongside of the fun are - genuine eloquence and profound pathos; we scarcely know - which is the more delightful.”--_The Literary World, London, - Eng._ - - -Samantha at the World’s Fair. - -By Josiah Allen’s Wife. Over 100 Illustrations by C. de Grimm. 8vo, 700 -pp. Elegantly Bound. Cloth, $2.50; Half Russia, $4.00. - - “There is no brighter literary outgrowth of the great event - of 1893 than this volume (‘Samantha at the World’s Fair’) - from the pen of one of America’s happiest humorists.”--_The - Union Signal, Chicago, Ill._ - - “Aside from the fun of the book, it recites multitudes of - facts of positive value.”--_The Daily Inter-Ocean, Chicago, - Ill._ - - - FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO - - - - -Transcriber's Notes - - -A number of typographical errors were corrected silently. - -Cover image is in the public domain. - -Augmented Table of Contents with “Other Works by Josiah Allen’s Wife”. - -Added caption “His Victim” to an illustration based on List of -Illustrations table. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMANTHA IN EUROPE *** - -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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