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diff --git a/old/67174-0.txt b/old/67174-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5e1dd30..0000000 --- a/old/67174-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10409 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Samantha on Children’s Rights, by -Marietta Holley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Samantha on Children’s Rights - -Author: Marietta Holley - -Release Date: January 15, 2022 [eBook #67174] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMANTHA ON CHILDREN’S -RIGHTS *** - - - - - -[Illustration: FOR FIVE DAYS HE WUZ SHET UP IN HIS ROOM AND KEP’ ON -BREAD AND WATER. - - _Frontispiece._] - - - - - SAMANTHA - ON - CHILDREN’S RIGHTS - - BY - JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE - (MARIETTA HOLLEY) - - AUTHOR OF “SAMANTHA AT THE ST. LOUIS EXPOSITION,” “AROUND THE - WORLD WITH JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE,” “SAMANTHA AT SARATOGA,” ETC. - - ILLUSTRATIONS BY - CHARLES GRUNWALD - - [Illustration: (Publisher colophon.)] - - G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY - PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - - - - Copyright, 1909, by - G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY - - - Samantha on Children’s Rights - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I 7 - - II 20 - - III 40 - - IV 60 - - V 77 - - VI 91 - - VII 106 - - VIII 123 - - IX 137 - - X 149 - - XI 161 - - XII 171 - - XIII 182 - - XIV 195 - - XV 212 - - XVI 224 - - XVII 233 - - XVIII 238 - - XIX 256 - - XX 270 - - XXI 283 - - XXII 287 - - XXIII 295 - - XXIV 308 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - For five days he wuz shet up in his room and kep’ - on bread and water _Frontispiece_ - - And then all three on ’em yelled out: “Rubber - neck! Rubber neck!” 49 - - The mair sot off back to Jonesville, my pardner - runnin’ after her as he still had holt of the - lines 110 - - She wuz whippin’ little Kate, her face all swelled - up with what she called religious principle 157 - - I went up into the room and helped him ondress, and - hearn him tell his prayers 220 - - I drawed him away at a good jog and walked him into - what I thought wuz a place of safety 254 - - - - -SAMANTHA ON CHILDREN’S RIGHTS - - -Jack has got a middlin’ round face, with eyes of dark blue. A sort -of mornin’ glory blue, and at times they are big, that is when -he is wonderin’ over sunthin’, or has found out sunthin’. And at -times they will be sort o’ half shet up, like mornin’ glories when -the sun is too hot. Then is the time when he has been wilted by -Hamen and his wife. The fresh, vigorous desire for knowledge born -in him, onbeknown to himself, jest as the freshness of the mornin’ -glories wuz born in them, withered and too hardly sot down on by -the searchin’ rays of misapprehension, ridicule, etc., etc. - -When he wuz a little bit of a fellow he would always shet his eyes -when he wuz scolded, for half an hour at a time, and walk round -with ’em shet. It seemed as if he wuz some disgusted with the -world, and wanted to lose sight on’t for a spell. Now he about half -shets ’em when he is mortified. - -His hair is curly at the ends, it is brown, some like the deep -shinin’ brown you have seen in trout brooks, and where the curls -kinder crinkle up a streak of gold runs through ’em. His forward -is broad and pretty middlin’ white, and high enough, plenty high -enough, and the hair hangs down in little short curls over it the -most of the time. - -Tamer Ann, that’s his Ma, don’t like it, she wants it brushed back -tight to show his intellect, and nags at Jack because he don’t keep -it back. Sez she in a very cross tone: - -“Folks will think you hain’t got any intellect at all if they see -your hair all over your forward.” - -And I sez, “I wouldn’t worry, Tamer Ann, if the intellect is there -it will work out, hair or no hair, and if it hain’t there no amount -of plasterin’ the hair back will show it off--I’ve seen it tried.” -Sez I in a milder tone, seein’ she looked kinder mad: - -“I’ve seen hair brushed back straight from the forward so’s to give -a free pass to the intellect, and left long on the neck to entice -it out, but it wouldn’t appear, for the reason it wuzn’t there. -Don’t you worry about Jack, Tamer Ann, you’ll find his intellect -will push its way through them curls--I hain’t a mite afraid on’t. - -“And at the same time, Jack,” sez I, for Duty is my companion and -I foller her blindly, “you must try to mind your Ma and keep the -curls back.” - -Jack laughed and run his hand through ’em and put ’em back. Jack -always minds me, or, that is, most always. - -Now I don’t always mind the Higher Teacher, I don’t always set the -stitches right in the great sampler that is hung up before me from -day to day. It is a true remark that wuz once made at a conference -meetin’ that “We often leave ondone the things that ort to be done, -and do the things that we hadn’t ort.” Then why should I be hard on -Jack when occasionally, very occasionally, mind you, he don’t do -exactly as he ort, or duz as he ortn’t. - -You see our Heavenly Father tells us what to do, He has told us -once for all in the divine book, and then He wrops himself in the -Everlastin’ Silence and leaves us to our own convictions, our own -sense of duty to Him. He makes us afraid to disobey Him. His love -constrains us, our sense of duty holds us (a good deal of the time) -and we try (some of the time) to do right for the Right’s sake, and -because of the completeness and constancy of the love and tender -pity broodin’ over us. - -Now, I have often wondered what we would do if our Heavenly Father -nagged at us as some parents do at their children, if every time -we make a miss-step, or a mistake, owin’ to the blindness of our -ignorance, or our waywardness, if He kep’ naggin’ at us, and -bringin’ us up short, and threatenin’ us with punishment, and -twitched us about and pulled our ears, and sot us down in corners, -and shet us up in dark closets, and sent us to bed without our -supperses, and told us to, “Shet up instantly!” and etcetery. I -wondered how long we would keep our love and reverence for Him. - -Now, a father and mother are to their children the controlling -power, the visible Deity of their lives. They stand in the High -Place in their souls. Let ’em tremble and quail if they don’t hold -that high place reverently, thoughtfully, prayerfully. The making -or the marring of a life, a endless, immortal life, is in their -hands, let ’em tremble at the thought. - -Jack’s mouth is a good natered one more’n half the time, most all -the time, when he is down on the farm with Josiah and me (he loves -to be there). It is quite a big mouth, but none too big, not at -all, with red lips, the upper one kinder short, and the ends curl -up in a dretful sort of a laughin’, roguish way. But them curls can -droop right down and the lips quiver like a baby’s--I’ve seen ’em. -That is when he is nagged at. Tamer Ann nags at Jack more’n half -the time. - -Jack loves his mother, and that is why the naggin’s reach right -through the little blue jacket and touches his heart. And the -tremblin’ onhappiness of the heart makes the blue eyes shet about -half up in a forlorn way, and the red lips quiver. I’ve seen ’em. -Why, good land! Jack hain’t much more than a baby anyway, only -about six and a half years old. He’s a stout little feller, and -most always wears a dark blue cloth suit with a little sailor hat -sot kinder back on his curls if he puts it on himself. And I don’t -want to see a better lookin’ boy than Jack is. His father is my -cousin on my own side. - -Hamen Archibald Smith, old Elder Archibald Smith’s boy. Hamen is -well off, he owns a big farm and a shingle mill up in Zoar, about -seven miles from Jonesville on the old State Road. Hamen’s wife is -a female he got acquainted with while he wuz away to school (Hamen -is high learnt). His father sent him away for upwards of seven -months to a high school, and then he got acquainted with Tamer Ann -Bodley and married her. She wuz from a high family, she herself is -over six feet high and spindlin’ in figger. She wuz to school to -the same place. She had been there over nine weeks when Hamen got -acquainted with her. - -Their love wuz sudden and voyalent, and they married at the -expiration of the term and left school and sot up housekeepin’, -both of ’em bein’ high learnt, and havin’ traveled. Why, they went -over forty milds on their weddin’ tower. And the high school where -they got acquainted wuz upwards of thirty milds from Zoar. - -Havin’ had all these advantages and bein’ forehanded, they -naterally put on some airs, and wuz looked up to. They did make -a handsome, high headed couple, I’ll say that for ’em. Hamen wuz -about a inch or a inch and a half taller than she wuz. - -Well, how time duz run along to be sure. It don’t seem like a year -hardly sence we got the invitation to the weddin’ party Uncle -Archibald gin to the bride and groom at the old Smith house out -to Piller Pint. And now Hamen’s oldest child, Anna, is goin’ on -nineteen years old. How time duz pass away! Why, I declare for’t, -if it wuzn’t for these great tall livin’ mildstuns springin’ up all -along life’s journey we could hardly believe our old family Bibles, -and would deny our ages. - -But these livin’ mildstuns can’t be gone by, they stand up straight -and tall, and we have to stop and read ’em, and then we see for -ourselves how fur we have come on the journey and how fast we are -approachin’ the great Stoppin’ Place for the Night. Anna Smith is -a good lookin’ mildstun. She is plump and fresh and sweet lookin’. -I like Anna and Anna likes me. Her brother, next younger than -herself, is named Cicero. Her Ma named him after some big man, old -Captain Cicero, it seems to me it wuz, anyway he wuz a big talker -and died some time ago. - -Cicero Smith is now about fifteen years old, he is dull complected, -kinder frosty and onwholesome lookin’, with great big round eyes, -kinder pale and wild lookin’, some like gooseberries. His hair is -thin and strings down the side of his face like little wisps of -pale yeller straw, only of course some finer. His hands always -felt kinder clammy, and he takes after his Ma in figger, tall and -scraggly and spindlin’. - -I never took to him at all nor he to me, he always wuz a -indifferent actin’ chap even in his cradle. He’d turn over in his -cradle when he wuz a infant and look at the rungs in the back side -on’t when I would try to git his attention, and I hain’t never been -able to git it sence. Jest as quick as he wuz old enough to read -he jest took to dime novels. His mother encouraged it, she said it -nourished a love for readin’, and would make him literary. He and -his mother, I spoze, have read more’n twenty cords of ’em if they -wuz corded up and measured with a yard stick, and most every one on -’em yeller covered and harrowin’. - -I have told Tamer Ann that they wuzn’t good for her or Cicero to -devour so much. But good land! I couldn’t move her a inch. She kep’ -on readin’ ’em and givin’ ’em to him to read, and the more blood -curdliner they wuz the more they doted on ’em. Why, I should have -thought their blood would have turned to ice in their veins, and -their skin got thick as a elephant’s hide with goose pimples caused -by the horrow of ’em; why, their names wuz enough to skair anybody -to death, let alone readin’ ’em. Anna never took to ’em, she seemed -to take after the Smiths more, so I think, and Jack of course -hain’t old enough, and I don’t believe he’ll ever love ’em anyway. - -Hamen’s brother lived at their house when Jack wuz born, and he’s -made it his home with ’em ever sence. His name is John Zebulen -Smith, named after old Grandpa Smith. - -And as he wuz always called John, why, they called little John -Jack, when he wuz a baby, to keep him from gittin’ mixed up with -his uncle and bein’ took for him, so he has always gone by the name -of Jack. And Jack from the first on’t has been a favorite of mine, -a great favorite. And I always felt so safe with him; I knew he -wouldn’t die from bein’ too good, as so many little Sabbath school -heroes do. - -And yet he wuz always a noble child, truthful as the day wuz long. -He would scorn to tell a lie, he wuz too proud to. If he had done -anything he would own up to it, most every time he would. And he -had naterally a religious mind, I believed, though sometimes Josiah -would laugh the idee to scorn when Jack would git into one of his -scrapes. He wuz kinder lazy some of the time, and opposition, -onreasonable opposition, made him mad, and he would contend to -the last minute when he got to goin’. And he had been fooled by -Hamenses folks so much that he had got into the habit of keepin’ -still and studyin’ out things for himself. The fools! they would -tell him such stories, lies, a purpose to keep him wonderin’ and to -hear him talk, that he had got sort o’ embittered and tried to rely -on himself to find out strange things. It wuz pitiful as anything I -ever see, and sometimes I thought pitifuler. - -Now, spozin’ he wanted to find out some particular thing so -dretfully it seemed as if he couldn’t live a minute without knowin’ -about it, he would ask Hamen and Hamen would tell him the greatest -story you ever hearn, and Jack would listen to it at first, and -talk about it, curous, I’ll admit, but not curous at all if it wuz -true. - -And then Hamen and his brother would laugh like two idiots to see -Jack’s wonderin’ looks, and shamed and mortified and everything. -And then he would go to Tamer Ann, but Tamer would most likely -have some new dime novel that she’d just commenced, and would be -so wropped up in the joys and sorrows of the heroine, and would be -cryin’ over her lots of times, so she couldn’t see Jack through -her tears, and she would have to wipe her eyes when Jack disturbed -her, and tell him all choked down by her emotions to run away, that -his Ma wuz too busy to answer him, or else she would have some new -distemper that day, and tell Jack to run away for his noise wuz -killin’ her. - -Well, what wuz the poor little feller to do? Everything wuz new to -him, he had so many things that he wanted to find out, what could -he do? Wall, there wuz only one thing he could do, and that wuz to -try to find ’em out for himself. Tamer Ann bein’ a good woman at -the bottom of her heart (but the goodness bein’ all covered up with -nonsense, dime novels, fancy distempers, etc.), she sent Jack to -Sunday school. - -And everything there wuz new to him. Tamer Ann had, I spoze, been -willin’, but had never had the time to teach Jack the Bible. Havin’ -so many heroines, pirates, etc., to drive along in front of her -mind, she naterally hadn’t any room for the apostles and prophets. -The procession of lovely bein’s and hoary villains wuz big, and -the thoroughfare small (Tamer’s mind I mean). And when a woman is -huntin’ round for new fancy distempers, what time has she to tell a -child about the Babe of Bethlehem? - -No, Jack didn’t know a thing about the Bible, and the female Sunday -school teacher he went to wuz a Born Baptist, she wuzn’t as you -may say a woman, a female citizen, or human bein’, she wuz jest -Baptist, plain Baptist. - -And so the food poor little Jack had put before him at that Sabbath -school wuz hard, sound food. Good doctrine, but tough, fearful -tough. Well, Jack accepted it jest as he did every new thing, and -then, as his first move always wuz, he went to investigatin’ it -himself. - -She told him, with no explanation, that if any one prayed in faith -their prayers would be answered. It wuz a new idee to Jack, and he -wuz agitated over it. He asked his father that night if it wuz so, -and told Hamen about the Lamb appearin’ to Abraham, and sez Jack: - -“If I had faith would my prayers be answered?” - -“Yes,” sez Hamen, “if you should pray to have it rain down candy, -down it would come.” - -Sez Jack, “Would the lamb appear?” That seemed to be uppermost in -his mind. - -“Yes,” sez Hamen, “the lamb would appear, and mebby a hull drove of -’em.” - -And then Hamen looked at John and winked, and they both snickered, -the fools! Well, Jack see that they wuz makin’ fun of him, and he -kinder meached away with his mornin’ glory blue eyes most shot up. -Poor little creeter! little, lonesome, abused creeter! - -And when he got over his mortification a little he resolved to -investigate for himself. So he went out in the kitchen and built up -a fire in the stove, took off all the griddles, and piled on the -wood as nigh as Abraham did as he could in a cook stove, accordin’ -to a picter the Born Baptist had shown him. He got a good hot fire -goin’, and then he took a book, a costly book that Hamen had gin to -Jack, thinkin’ that though it wuz pretty old for him now, he would -grow up to it. It wuz full of costly engravin’s, and wuz the thing -that Jack loved best of all his possessions. - -So he laid that book on the hot griddles, and then knelt down and -prayed for God not to burn it up. He lifted his voice loud in -prayer. Tamer Ann, who heard him, thought that he wuz preachin’, as -he often did. - -So she didn’t interfere, and she wuz at that very minute -mistrustin’ she had got a new distemper. She had bumped her knee -gittin’ down to look under the bed after a dime novel, “The Wild -Princess of the Enchanted Forest,” and wuz some in hopes that she -had got the sinevetus. But pretty soon she smelt a smudge, and she -run out and there wuz the valuable book all burnt and shriveled up, -and poor little Jack kneelin’ there with the tears runnin’ down -his cheeks in copious astorents and he a moanin’ to himself, and -groanin’ out: - -“Oh, the Lord might a done it if He had wanted to!” and “Oh, the -lamb didn’t come!” and “Oh, He didn’t save my book!” And so on and -so on. - -Well, Tamer Ann didn’t take the poor little mourner and seeker -after truth to her heart and wipe away his tears and tell him all -about it, all she could tell, all any of us can tell, which is -little enough, Heaven knows. No, she jest whipped him severely. -And when he tried to tell her what he did it for, how the teacher -had told him that it wuz so, she told him to stop instantly and to -not say another word to her about it, but to go to bed without his -supper for his naughtiness. And poor little Jack had to meach off -to bed and lay there with his little mind workin’ on and workin’ -on, his hungry stomach makin’ his brain all the more active. - -Tamer Ann might whip his tongue still, but she couldn’t stop his -mind from workin’. No, the one that set that machinery to goin’ wuz -the only one who could stop it. As he had told his Ma once, “You -can make me keep my tongue still, but you can’t stop my thinker.” -No, Tamer Ann couldn’t whip that still. - -Well, the poor little creeter lay and pondered over what could have -caused the failure of his plans. And he finally made up his mind -that his sacrifice wuzn’t costly enough. - -He loved the book the best of anything he owned, but the B. B. had -told him that he must offer up what he loved best of anything in -the world. And he remembered, too, in the story of Abraham it wuz a -livin’ sacrifice. Why hadn’t he thought of it? Why, it must be his -mother, of course. For, by that mystery of love born in the deep -silence and perils of maternity, Jack loved his mother the best of -all, and Tamer loved him (in her way). - -Well, from that time Tamer Ann wuz doomed in Jack’s eyes, set apart -as a costly oblation to be offered up on the altar of sacrifice, -and he begun to watch her so mysterious like, and kinder prowl -round her in such a strange way that they all noticed it. He went -to Sabbath school agin in the meantime, and wuz agin fed on the -sound, hard food that would almost have cracked the teeth of a -adult, but which poor little Jack wuz expected to chew on and -digest (poor little creeter!) - -And agin the subject wuz Faith, and agin the story of Abraham wuz -brung up, and agin they wuz admonished and adjured to sacrifice -what they loved the best of all, if they would be rewarded, and see -the lamb of sacrifice, snow white and glorious, appear at their -right hand. - -Jack’s eyes grew bigger and bigger, and his plans seemed nearer -fulfilment. He wanted to do right and he wanted the lamb. He -thought he could make a pen for it back of the woodshed. But, above -all, the fervor of a martyr had been waked up in his ardent young -soul. He felt lifted up and inspired. He would obey the Lord. -He would do his duty regardless of his own feelings. He would -sacrifice his best beloved. - -That evenin’ Tamer wuz settin’ peaceful readin’ “Lost Eudora of the -Gulch; or, The Becalmed Elephant,” when she heard a movement behind -her and she looked round and there Jack wuz applyin’ a match to -a string that wuz tied round her belt and wuz trailin’ along the -carpet. He wuz jest as pale as death and wuz cryin’, but looked -resolved. He wuz settin’ fire to his mother, sacrificin’ his best -beloved, according to the commandment of the B. B. - -Well, Jack looked so woe-be-gone and agitated, and the string -looped into the belt and layin’ down on the floor like a train laid -to a gunpowder plot looked so curous, that Jack wuz questioned, and -it all came out. Well, I spoze that there never wuz a child whipped -harder than that child wuz. He bore the marks for days and days. -Tamer has got a dretful temper, everybody knows that, I hain’t -tellin’ any news. - -And for five days he wuz shet up in his room and kep’ on bread and -water, and not one word said to him in all that time of comfort and -sympathy or enlightenment. But they whipped the idee of sacrifice -entirely out of him, and faith. For the next time the subject of -faith come up in the Sunday school, and the B. B. wuz holdin’ forth -all the beauties of faith, and the sureness of its rewards, Jack’s -little voice piped out: - -“There hain’t a word of truth in it; for my folks say so, and I -know that there hain’t, for I’ve tried it for myself.” - -Oh, the poor little creeter! not knowin’ one word of the divine -faith of which the story he heard wuz the symbol. Of how when -the dearest and best is offered up on the altar of a divine -renunciation, God sends His peace and His rest into our lives like -snow white lambs, and all sacrifices seem easy for His sake who -gave us His best. Poor little Jack! not a word of this, not a word -of common sense even, nothin’ but whippin’s and tellin’s to “shet -up instantly!” - -Poor little creeter! - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -My son, Thomas Jefferson, and his wife, Maggie, have got a little -daughter, it wuz very pleasin’ to Josiah and me, and weighed over -nine pounds. It is now most ten months old, and is, with the -exception of my other grandchildren, the most beautiful child that -wuz ever seen in Jonesville, some foolish folks would think I wuz -prejudiced in its favor, but it is the prevailin’ opinion all over -Jonesville, it has been talked to Thomas Jefferson and Maggie and -Josiah and me repeatedly, so we have got to believe it, for what we -know ourselves and the neighbors know to be a fact must be so. - -Its name is Snow, after the little one that went home and left -them. You know Maggie’s name wuz Snow, she is Maggie Snow that wuz, -and I wuz in favor of the child bein’ named after her, in fact, as -it may be remembered, I named the child, it wuz left to me. - -“Mother,” sez Thomas J., the first time I went there after the -first little Snow came and I see the baby layin’ on Maggie’s arm: - -“Mother,” sez he, and, though there wuz a smile on his lips, there -wuz tears in his voice as he said it, “nobody else shall name my -little girl but you.” - -“No,” spoke out my daughter, Maggie, smilin’ sweet from her pillow, -“you must name it, Mother.” - -The children like me, nobody can dispute that, not even my worst -enemy, if I had one, but then nobody would believe him, anyway, for -he would be a perfect liar. But, as I wuz sayin’, I looked down on -’em, Maggie’s face looked white and sweet out of the muslins and -laces round her, the bed wuz white as snow, and so wuz she, and the -baby wuz white. And Maggie’s soul wuz white, I knew, white as snow, -and so wuz Thomas Jefferson’s, his morals are sound, extremely -sound and light colored, and the baby’s, God bless it! I knew wuz -like the newly driven snow fallin’ down onto the peaceful earth -that blessed day, and so, sez I kinder soft: - -“We’ll call the baby Snow.” - -And I bent down and kissed Maggie, and Thomas Jefferson kissed us -both, and the thing wuz done, their little girl wuz named Snow. And -I said, “Try to bring her up so’s the name will be appropriate to -her.” - -And they both on ’em said they would, and they did. Oh, what a -beautiful child that wuz, but it melted away like its namesake -in a April day, drawn up to its native heaven by the warm sun of -God’s love, and when this baby come to fill its place I wanted -it called Snow, and they all did, and that’s its name, she is a -very beautiful child, and they are bringin’ her up beautiful. Her -behavior for a child ten months of age is the most exemplary I ever -see (with the exception of my other grandchildren), it is a perfect -pattern to other children to see that child behave. - -I despise now, and always have despised, the idee of grandparents -bein’ so took up with their grandchildren that they can’t see their -faults, it is dretful to witness such folly. But, as I have said to -Josiah and to others, “What are you goin’ to do when there hain’t -any faults to see? How be you a-goin’ to see ’em?” Why, there -hain’t any reason in tryin’ to see things that hain’t there. If -Delight and Snow and my other grandchildren ever have any faults -I shall be the first one to see ’em, the very first one, and so I -have told Josiah and the neighbors. - -This little Snow is very white complected, and her eyes are jest -the softened shade of the deep velvet blue of the pansy, and her -hair is kinder yellowish, and curls in loose rings and waves all -over her head, all round her white forward and satin smooth neck. -She has got the same sweet smile on her lips that her Ma has, and -little angel Snow had, but the look in her eyes, though they hain’t -the same color, is like my boy, Thomas Jefferson’s, they look -kinder cunning and cute some of the time jest like his, and then -deep and tender jest like hisen. Thomas Jefferson is deep, it has -been gin up that he is, it is known now all over Jonesville and out -as fur as Loontown and all the other adjacent villages, that Thomas -J. is deep. - -I knew it when he wuz a child, I found it out first, but now -everybody knows it, why the bizness that boy gits is perfectly -oncommon, folks bring their lawsuits to him from as fur as way -beyend Toad Holler and the old State Road, and all round Zoar, and -Loontown, and Jonesville, why milds and milds they’ll fetch ’em -ruther than have anybody else, and the land is perfectly full of -lawyers, too, painfully full. He and Tom Willis, his confidential -clerk, have more than they can do all the time, they have to employ -one or two boys, they are makin’ money fast. - -Well, I spozed that seein’ Thomas J. wuz doin’ so well, and Maggie’s -father havin’ left her a handsome property of her own (the Judge -died of quinsy, lamented some years ago), I spozed, seein’ she wuz -abundantly able and its bein’ so fashionable, that Maggie would -have a nurse for her little girl. But the day the child wuz a month -old I spent the day with ’em, and Maggie told me she wuzn’t goin’ -to. She looked kinder delicate as she sot there holdin’ little -Snow, her cheeks wuz about as white as the dress she had on, and I -sez, “It is goin’ to be quite a care for you, daughter.” - -“Care!” And as she looked up in my face I wuz most struck with -the look in her big eyes, it wuz a look of such tenderness, such -rapture, such anxiety, such wonder, and most everything else; I -declare for it I never see such a look in my life unless it wuz in -the face of the Madonna hangin’ right up over her head. Thomas J. -bought it and gin it to her a few months before, and it hung right -at the foot of her bed. The Virgin mother and her child. - -It wuz a beautiful face, Thomas J. thought it favored Maggie, and -I don’t know but it did, it did jest that minute, anyway, she had -the same look in her eyes that Mary had. Well, if you’ll believe it -right while we wuz talkin’ about that baby, Miss Green Smythe come -in to see Thomas Jefferson, she is tryin’ to git some divorces, and -she wants Thomas J. to undertake the job, she is dretful good to -Maggie and flatters Thomas Jefferson up, but Thomas J. won’t take -the case, unless he sees he is on the right side. - -Thomas Jefferson Allen has took his Ma’s advice; he has never, -never took holt of a case that he didn’t think honestly and firmly -he wuz on the right side on’t. He has got the name of bein’ a -honest lawyer, and they say folks come milds and milds jest to look -on him, they consider him such a curosity. That’s jest why he gits -so much custom, folks would ruther see him than a circus, he bein’ -such a rariety, and then when they see him they like him, they -can’t help it, and so he gits their custom. - -I told Thomas J. when he wuz young to do right for the right’s -sake, sez I, “Thomas J., I despise that old proverb, ‘Honesty is -the best policy.’ I don’t want you to do anything out of policy,” -sez I, “do right for the right’s sake, for the sake of God’s truth -and your own soul. You can’t like yourself, nor God can’t like you -if you do a mean, shabby, contemptible act. Do jest as near right -as you can, Thomas Jefferson Allen, and leave success or failure -with Him who sees into your soul and your future clear to the end, -if there is a end, which I don’t spoze there is. You had better be -a failure outside than inside.” Sez I, “Let the one who can see -inside of you look down into a clean soul, and even if you are -covered with rags outside your Ma will be satisfied.” - -So I would say to Thomas J. from day to day and from year to year -in his school days. And when he went into the law, sez I, “Thomas -Jefferson, it may be my lot to see you torn by wild horses and -layin’ on a guillontine, but,” sez I, “though that would kill your -Ma, it would kill her quicker to see and hear that you had got up -in cold blood and wuz tryin’ to prove that a lie wuz the truth, and -that the truth wuz a lie, usin’ all the intellect and power the God -of truth give to prove a untruth, to go against Him, against your -conscience, against your soul.” - -Sez I, “Cases can be plastered over with all the thick plaster you -can lay on ’em about duty to clients, expediency, etc., etc. But -if a man is guilty he ort to be punished, and if he is innocent -he hadn’t ort to be punished, and if you ever take the part of -the guilty against the innocent, if you git up under God’s pure -daylight and try to prove that the innocent is guilty, try and -prove a lie, your Ma will not live long to see it go on,” sez I, -“for mortification would set in powerful and so deep that it will -soon end her days.” - -Thomas Jefferson hearn to me, he wuz a honest boy by nature, and my -teachin’s have struck in deep. He is a honest lawyer, and as I say -folks come milds and milds jest to look at him. As it has turned -out he is a success outside as well as inside. - -And Miss Green Smythe wants him to take her case dretfully. Good -land! she’s been in the law for years, her children have turned -out real bad, and she’s turned out sort o’ curous herself. She is -a great society woman, and has enormous success in that direction; -why, she has been, so I have been told and believe, to nineteen -parties in one night, she gives immense receptions, and has got -diamonds as big as eggs almost (bird’s eggs, I cannot lie, I do not -mean hen’s eggs). Yes, she has had great success in that way, but -she has had dretful poor luck with her children. - -She has got a husband somewhere, I spoze. I believe that I hearn -once of somebody who had seen Mr. Green Smythe one day settin’ on -the back doorstep of her city house. But she always has two or -three young men danglin’ round, and she never sez a word about her -husband. Somebody said to me one day that it seemed kinder queer -that nobody ever see Mr. Smythe, but I sez: - -“Oh, she most probable knew where he wuz; she most probable knew -that he wuz settin’ out there at the back door.” - -I will stand up for my sect when I can, but I don’t approve of her -acts not at all; if I had a husband I should want one, and if I -didn’t have a husband I shouldn’t want one, and I should want it -fixed so I should know jest how it wuz. - -But as I say, her children have turned out dretful, and most -everybody thinks that it wuz the way they wuz brung up that made -’em turn out so. She left the hull care of ’em to hired nurses -and servants, and they wuz mean, some of ’em, and neglected ’em -sometimes, and sometimes learnt ’em by precept and example to be as -mean as they wuz. - -Why, a woman told me, and a likely woman, too, though I won’t -mention any names, as I am afraid she wouldn’t like it if I did, -but I will say that I always could depend on every word that Alvira -Sampson said. - -Well, she told me she called Miss Green Smythe’s attention to the -way her children wuz bein’ dealt with by her help, and she said all -the answer Miss Green Smythe made wuz to look kinder dreamily at -her and wonder whether she had better have yellow or pink candles -in her reception room at her next party; she wuz gittin’ up a -Charity Ball for motherless children. And I told Alviry that Miss -Green Smythe had better include her own children in the charity, -for they wuz jest about the same as motherless. - -And this certain woman said she tried to draw her attention agin to -the needs of her own offspring, and agin Miss Green Smythe looked -dreamily up and sez, “I am so ondecided whether to wear pale rose -colored chiffon or cloth of gold on the night of the party.” And -then that certain woman said she gin up the idee of gittin’ her -mind onto her own children’s welfare, she didn’t say another word -to her about it, and I believe her, for Alvira won’t lie. - -So Miss Green Smythe wuz left with a anxious contemplation of the -color of the light that wuz goin’ to softly gild the heads of her -guests as they talked of the cruel needs of the motherless, and, -bein’ took up with this, she hadn’t time to worry about the evil -glare of vile and corrupt words and ways, deceit and lies, and -worse, that wuz fallin’ on the heads of her own children. - -But to resoom forwards agin. Maggie and I wuz settin’ there calm -and peaceful, and saw the colored nigger’s countenance lookin’ -round dretful clever from his high seat. - -Miss Green Smythe swep’ up the neat gravel walk to the door, and -in a few minutes entered the room. She is a kinder good natured -little woman, but dretful wore out and haggard lookin’ under the -embellishments she uses to cover up the ravages of time and care -and fashionable ambition and worry. She always dresses in the very -height of fashion, but she has too many feathers and flowers and -danglin’ ends of ribbon to suit me. - -I never took any fancy to her, though I spoze I ort to feel -complimented on her comin’ clear from New York to git Thomas -Jefferson to try her lawsuit. Her present husband is a distant, -a very distant, relation of ourn. But I don’t spoze that makes -any difference about her employin’ Thomas J., I spoze it is his -smartness that draws her. She is spendin’ the summer at a summer -hotel not fur off, she and her family, and she is tryin’ to git -some divorces for herself and one of her children. She don’t want -a divorce from Smith, Mr. Green Smythe gives her rope enough. -I guess she feels pretty foot loose, ’tennyrate nobody ever -sees him, though they know there is a husband somewhere in the -background grubbin’ away to make money. They say he is a sad and -humble sperited man, who sets a good deal on their back doorstep -at Newport and New York, when he sets anywhere, a modest, bald -headed man, with iron gray mustache and sad eyes. They say he don’t -seem at home in the palatial front rooms and boodoors, and is -kinder trompled on by the high headed servants in livery. But he, -knowin’, I spoze, that he could turn ’em all out, neck and crop and -leathered legs, if he wanted to, bears it pretty well, and sets out -there and reads the daily papers. And sometimes I have hearn holds -an old degariotype in his hand, and will look at it a long time, -of a pretty young country girl that he loved when he wuz young -and poor, and prized ambition and wealth a good deal more than he -duz now. They say he looks at that a sight, and some letters writ -by “Alice” and some little sprigs of old fashioned runnin’ myrtle -that has opened its blue flowers for many summers over a grave on a -country hillside. - -They commenced to bloom about a year after he married the rich -widder Green, whose money put with his made him rich as a Jew. -She had three husbands, Miss Green Smythe had, before she married -Smith; Smith then but Smythe now. Her first husband, Sam Warn, he -don’t count much in her thoughts, so I’ve hearn, bein’ young and -poor, and havin’ married him for love, so called, and he her. He -died in a few years, died from overwork, everybody said. He wuz -tryin’ to work over hours to pay for a melodeon for his wife and -a pair of bracelets; she wuz ambitious then in her young and poor -days, ambitious as a dog. He died leavin’ her nothin’ but the -twins, Eudora Francesca and Medora Francina. - -Her next husband wuz old Green, he wuz goin’ on eighty when she -married him, and he died in less than a year, leavin’ her with over -two millions. Her next husband, Emery Tweedle, father of Algernon -and Angenora, wuz much younger than herself, and I didn’t wonder at -that so much as some did, thinkin’ that she wanted to sort o’ even -up the ages of her pardners, and he wuzn’t nigh as much younger -than her as Green wuz older, and I always believed (theoretically) -that sass for the goose and sass for the gander might as well be -about the same age. - -Howsumever, they didn’t live happy, he throwin’ her downstairs the -third year of their union and throwin’ a cut glass pitcher on top -of her. The occasion bein’ that she found him tryin’ to help the -pretty parlor maid carry upstairs the pitcher of ice water she had -rung for. - -She wuz a real pretty parlor maid, and Miss Tweedle by this time, -havin’ run so hard after fashion, had got kinder worn out lookin’ -and winded in the race, as you may say, with lots of small wrinkles -showin’ round the eyes and nose, and real scrawny where her figger -wuzn’t veneered and upholstered for company, and the parlor maid -had a plump figger, and complexion like strawberries and cream, but -wuzn’t considered likely. But ’tennyrate that fall precipitated -affairs, and havin’ got up with little Eudora Francesca’s help, -Miss Tweedle’s first move wuz to sue for a divorce. - -Her back wuz hurt considerable, and so wuz her pride, but her heart -not at all, so it wuz spozed, for she married him in the first -place, not for love, but because he could sing bass good, she had -a high terible voice, and their voices went well together. He wuz -poor, and she made the first advances, so they said, bein’ anxious -to secure his bass. - -And didn’t it turn out queer as a dog that when she married for -bass she got such a sight of it, she got more than she bargained -for. She had never made any inquiries about him, and found out, -when it wuz too late, that his voice wuzn’t the only base thing -about him. He wuz real mean and tried to throw her out of the -second story winder before they had been married two weeks. That -wuz because she wouldn’t deed all her property to him. But she knew -enough to hang onto her property, and he, bein’ so poor, hung onto -her off and on for a little over two years. They got along somehow, -and when she and affairs wuz finally precipitated, they had two -children, which the law give to her, about a year and a half old. -And about two months after the seperation she had another child, -Angelia Genevieve, but she didn’t live only a year or so, havin’ -crep’ up and fell into the bathtub, and wuz drowned, her Ma bein’ -at a masked ball at the time. - -Well, she got a Western divorce and married Mr. Ebenezer Smith, and -spozed that the Tweedle eppisode wuz over. But after lettin’ her -alone for years, Tweedle, bein’ base clear to his toes, and havin’ -run through his property and had reverses, wuz botherin’ Miss Green -Smythe, and demandin’ money of her. He said there wuz some legal -error in the divorce papers, and he wuz threatenin’ her bad. - -Well, she wuz in a hard place and I felt sorry for her. And then -her girls had had sights of trouble, too, the two girls, Eudora -Francesca and Medora Francina Warn, that wuz their right name, but -their Ma thought that Green Smythe sounded fur more genteel, so she -called ’em by that name, they have had dretful bad luck. Eudora’s -nurse wuz a good faithful creeter (that wuz after her Ma had -married old Green, good land! she nussed ’em herself till then). -But as I was sayin’, Eudora’s nurse wuz a valuable woman but had -one fault; she would drink once in a while, and it wuz when she had -one of her drunken fits that she dropped the little girl onto the -marble hearth and hurt her spine, she suffered dretful and went to -a private hospital the year her Ma wuz in Europe for the fifteenth -time, the nurse stayin’ with her and cryin’ over her lots of times, -they say, for she had a good heart. - -Well, she stayed there for years till she got to be a young woman, -while Miss Green Smythe took Medora Francina round with her -considerable. She had a great-aunt on her Pa’s side, Karen Happuck -Warn, who wuz as rich as Creshus, her husband havin’ made his money -in a coal mine discovered on his rocky old farm up in Maine. - -Well, this old lady bein’ left without chick or child of her own, -what should Miss Green Smythe do but take Medora Francina up there -visitin’! And I spoze she done it from pure ambition and wantin’ -to advance her child’s interests, she told her aunt that Medora’s -name wuz Karen Happuck Warn, and she called her all the time she -wuz there Karen Happuck. Well, that tickled the old lady dretfully, -and she seemed to like Medora first rate, and her Ma left her there -most a year, while she went off, I believe it wuz to Algeria that -time, or Cairo or somewhere. - -The Warns wuz dretful religious folks, and Medora wuz under better -influences that year than she ever wuz before or since, I spoze, -and she enjoyed herself first rate, and realized the beauty of -a good honest life, of duty and labor and simple pleasures and -domestic happiness. She fell in love up there with a handsome young -lumberman, Hatevil White, and would have liked to married him, he -wuz a distant, a very distant relation to old Miss Warn, though she -didn’t have much to do with him then. - -Well, they fell in love with each other, and I guess it would made -a match, but Miss Green Smythe couldn’t bear to have Medora marry a -common Mr. and a lumberman at that, she hankered after a title in -her family, so she took her home to New York and there she met her -titled man. You know that in one of the big hotels there you can -always see a hull row of ’em settin’ in the hall, lookin’ out for -rich wives; they write their letters from that hotel and hang round -there, but sleep, it is spozed, in some hall bedroom downtown, and -eat where they can, but they are real lucky in findin’ pardners, -and there Medora found hern. He wuz quite good lookin’, and, owin’ -to his title, a great pet amongst the four hundred. Why, they all -wanted to marry him, the hull four hundred, or all of ’em that -hadn’t got some husbands, mebby three hundred or so. But Medora -carried off the prize, her Ma wanted the title in the family, and -he wanted Medora’s money; she wuz spozed then, besides her own -money, to be the heiress of her aunt. - -But he turned out, as so many titled men do that hang round that -400 in New York, to be a imposter. He wuzn’t a Baron, he wuz -formerly a valley, or that is what they call it, to a real titled -man, and from him he had got the ways of high life, good dressin’, -flowery, flattering language, drinkin’, billiard playin’, etc., -etc. Well, he spent Medora’s money, and broke her heart, and I -believe a few of her bones; he wuz a low brute, and I don’t blame -her for wantin’ a divorce. - -She left the sham Baron after her bones wuz sot and went up to -Maine agin, and some say she made overtoors to that Hatevil White, -but he wuz true to his name and wouldn’t marry the fickle creeter -who had deceived him once. And then by that time (men’s hearts are -so elastic) he had got in love with a pretty young school teacher, -and married her the next year after these overtoors, and her aunt, -having found out how she wuz deceived in regard to Medora’s name, -left her hull property when she died to this distant relation, -Hatevil White. - -So poor Medora Francina felt that her Ma had ondone her for the -second time. She has got a high temper, and her tongue is the -worst scourge Miss Green Smythe has to stand, they fight perfectly -fearful, so they say. Well, to resoom backwards a spell. About the -time Medora wuz married Eudora’s disease seemed to take another -form, it kinder went to her head, but she appeared well enough, and -could walk round as well as anybody. So, as she wuz very beautiful, -the handsomest one in the family, her mother took her home and had -teachers and learnt her what she could and made of her. And it wuz -the next winter after she went home to live that she ran away with -the coachman. - -Her mother had to go to Europe agin that winter, ’twas the -twenty-fourth time, I believe; but, ’tennyrate, she wuz there. But -she left Eudora in the care of a very accomplished and fashionable -French governess. Miss Green Smythe didn’t have time to learn much -about this governess, she wuz so busy gittin’ her trueso ready -for her journey, and in givin’ a big fancy ball before she sailed, -so she couldn’t take the time to find out much about this woman, -and she wuz dretful romantick and kinder mean, and Eudora wuz -completely under her influence. - -The governess thought this coachman wuz a Marquiz in disguise, son -of a long line of Earls, he said he wuz, when questioned about it. -But he wuzn’t no such thing; his Pa wuz in the peanut line on the -Bowery. The governess would have gladly married him herself, but -she wuz older and kinder humbly, so he proposed to Eudora, and -they run away and wuz married. There wuz no need of their runnin’ -away, there wuz no one to interfere with ’em, for Mr. Green Smythe -out on the back steps wouldn’t have noticed what wuz goin’ on. But -the governess thought it would be so much more romantick to depart -by midnight sarahuptishusly, so I spoze she helped rig up a rope -ladder by which Medora descended to her coachman. - -Well, he didn’t use her well, it wuzn’t hereditary in his family -to use wimmen well, they generally struck at ’em with their -fists, instead of polite tongue abuse when they offended ’em, and -take it with her ill usage and the wild clamor her Ma made when -she discovered the marriage, the poor awakening wits of Eudora -Francesca fled utterly. The coachman wuz bought off with a small -sum of ready money, and Eudora wuz taken back to the asylum for -good and all. - -Well, as I say, the two little Tweedle children, boy and girl, are -queer little creeters, they are about eight or nine years old now, -and are with their Ma to Jonesville for the summer, with a nurse -for each one. The baby, the only child of Mr. Smith, is not with -its Ma to Jonesville, he is at another private asylum, not fur from -the one that Eudora Francesca is in; it is an asylum for idiots and -a sort of school to try to teach ’em what they can be taught. - -And that he is there isn’t the fault of any nurse. No, I should -say it riz higher in profession and wuz the fault of the medical -fraternity. All the year before he wuz born Miss Green Smythe -wuz very delicate, but bein’ so fashionable, she considered it -necessary to wear a tight, a very tight cosset till the very day -the baby wuz born, and her doctor never said a word agin it, so -fur as I know, but realizin’ how delicate she wuz and that her -strength must be kep’ up in some way, he ordered her to take -stimulants, and she drinked, and she drinked, and she drinked. Why, -I spoze from what I’ve hearn that she jest took barrels of wine -and champagne and brandy. She never went half way in anything, not -even Hottentots, of which more hereafter. And the stimulants bein’ -ordered she drinked continually. And when the boy wuz born it wuz -a perfect idiot. Her fashionable doctor who ordered the stimulants -said it wuz a “melancholy dispensation of Providence.” - -The doctor who attended Mr. Green Smythe, and an old friend of -hisen, said it wuz “a melancholy judgment on fools.” He wuz a quick -tempered man, but honest and high learnt, and he wuz mad at the -fashionable doctor and Miss Green Smythe, too. Well, it cured her -of drinkin’, anyway; she had always wanted a boy dretfully, and -when the only one she had ever had wuz born a idiot it mortified -her most to death, and she could never bear the sight of it, and -had never laid her eyes on it since it wuz took to the private -asylum. - -A pretty lookin’ child, too, they said it wuz, only not knowin’ -anything. They said about this time Ebenezer Smith’s hair changed -from iron gray to pretty near white, for he loved the baby, his -only child and heir to all his millions. And he kep’ lookin’ and -watchin’ for some signs of sense in it for a long time. And the -only reason he gin his consent to have it go to the asylum wuz that -he didn’t know but they might help it to some spark of reason. He -read his old letters more than ever, they said, out on the back -steps, and looked more at Alice’s face in the old velvet covered -case, and then he would look away from that sweet, fresh face off -onto the sky or ocean as the case might be, either in New York -or Newport, he would look off for some time and wuz spozed to be -thinkin’ of a good many things. - -Well, it wuz to get a divorce for Medora and see to her own Tweedle -bizness that Miss Green Smythe had come to Jonesville. She had -employed a big New York lawyer, but he hadn’t been very successful, -and she wanted Thomas J.’s help. Tweedle had once lived in this -vicinity for some time, and she wanted Thomas J. to try and collect -evidence for her and help her. But he will walk round the subject -on every side and look at it sharp before he tackles it. - -I spoze it is a great compliment to have such rich folks as the -Green Smythes so anxious to secure his services. But that won’t -make any difference to our son, he won’t touch it unless he thinks -she is in the right on’t. He follers these two old rules that his -Ma laid down before him when he first set out to be a lawyer. Sez -I, “Always, Thomas Jefferson, foller them two rules, and you will -be sure to come out right in the end: - -“First rule, ‘Be sure you are in the right on’t,’” then, - -“Second rule, ‘Go ahead.’” - -As I sez to him impressive, “You will be sure to come out right if -you foller them two rules. Mebby you won’t always win your case -before earthly judges, though I believe you will be more apt to. -But that hain’t the important thing, my son,” I would say, “the -important thing is to win your case before the Great Judge that is -above all. Why,” sez I, “wouldn’t you ruther win a case before the -Supreme Court in Washington, D. C., than before a Jonesville jury?” - -And he would say, “Why, yes, of course.” - -“Well,” sez I, “wouldn’t you ruther win the case before the Great -Judge that sets as high above them Supreme Judges as Heaven is -above the earth?” - -I tell you them simelys sunk into Thomas J.’s heart; he follers -them rules day by day. As I said more formerly, he is inquirin’ -round about Miss Green Smythe’s case, and if he makes up his mind -that she and Medora are in the right on’t he will help ’em (and -thereby ensure her success), and if she hain’t in the right on’t he -won’t touch the case with a pair of tongs or leather mittens. - -Well, to stop retrospectin’ and resoom backwards a little. Miss -Green Smythe greeted me and Maggie with considerable warmth, about -as warm as hot dish water, while our greetin’s to her wuzn’t any -warmer than new milk. Maggie wuz holdin’ Snow in her arms when Miss -Green Smythe wuz ushered in, leadin’ a pug dog by a ribbon, and -one of her danglers wuz out in the carriage lookin’ at the house -through a eye glass. Miss Green Smythe made a great flutter and -excitement in comin’ in, and made a sight of Maggie and me, but we -didn’t seem fluttered or excited by her, nor we didn’t make any -more of her than we did of any of the neighbors, though we used her -well, and she sot down and took her pug into her lap, for Maggie’s -cat riz up her back that high at the sight of it that I thought it -would break into, and I got up and let her out. - -I knew what the call wuz for, it wuz to molify Thomas J. and make -him willin’ to take her case in hand. Well, she wuz dretful good to -Maggie, over good, I thought; she called her lots of kinder foolish -names, “Petteet Ongey,” and “belle amey,” and lots of other trash. -Maggie’s name hain’t Amy, nor never wuz. - -Maggie took it all in good part and sot there smilin’ and holdin’ -little Snow close to her heart. Miss Green Smythe didn’t notice the -baby at all, no more than as if it wuz a rag babe. But she begun to -talk about a big entertainment she wuz goin’ to have and wanted us -to come to, and she called it a real curous name, it sounded some -like Fate Sham Peter. - -I guess it wuzn’t exactly that, for it sounded so curous to me I -sez to her, sez I, “I spoze Peter is all for fashion and outside -gildin’ and sham, and that’s how he got his name?” And I sez, “Is -Peter any relation of yourn?” And then she explained it out to me -as well as she could. - -But I sez, “I guess I’ll call it Sham Peter, for that is nigh -enough to distinguish it from other Peter’s and other shams, and -that is the main thing.” - -She acted as if she didn’t like it, and answered my questions -kinder short and uppish. I never took to her, for I had hearn all -these things I have sot down about her babies and husbands and -danglers and everything, and I spozed like as not I should have to -give her a piece of my mind before she left; I spozed that I might -have to onbeknown to me. - -Well, Maggie excused herself from goin’ on account of little Snow, -she said she didn’t go out much to evening parties for they took -her strength so, and she felt that she needed all her strength to -take care of her baby. “Take care of your baby!” Miss Green Smythe -fairly screamed out the words, she wuz that horrow struck. “You -take care of your baby? Why, my dear Mrs. Allen, I could not have -understood you aright, you take care of your baby yourself!” - -“Yes,” sez Maggie quietly, “I take most of the care of my child -myself, and I intend to do so.” - -Miss Green Smythe held up both of her hands in horrow and leaned -back in her chair, “Well, that is something I wouldn’t have -believed if I hadn’t heard it myself, that you are goin’ to take -care of your own child,” and the idee seemed to upset her so that -she hurried off earlier, I believe, than she would otherwise. But -before she went she did git me to promise to attend a reception she -wuz goin’ to give before long; Maggie said she believed it would do -me good to git out and have a little change. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -If there ever wuz a girl in the world that I loved, no kin to me, -it wuz Marion Martin. She lived nigh enough so I knew her hull -history from A to Z, specially Z. It wuzn’t the beauty of her face -nor her sweet disposition, though they wuz attractive, but it wuz -her real self, the beauty and patience and duty of her hull life -that made up her charm to me. - -Her Ma died when she wuz fourteen, leavin’ two twins jest of a age, -three singles, and a Pa with a weak tottlin’ backbone that had to -be propped up by somebody, and when Miss Martin laid down the job -Marion took it up. She wuz real sweet lookin’, her eyes wuz soft -as soft brown velvet, and her hair about the same color, only with -a sort of golden light when the sun shone on it, a clear white and -pink complexion, a good plump little figger, always dressed in a -neat quiet way, and pretty manners, so gentle and lovely that I -always felt when I see her like startin’ up that old him: - - “Sister thou art mild and lovely, - Gentle as a summer breeze.” - -But didn’t always, knowin’ it would make talk. But I had noticed -that she begun to look wan and peaked. I knowed that she had a -lover, a good actin’ and lookin’ chap, that I liked first rate -myself. He had been payin’ attention to her for over two years, -and I wondered if the skein of true love that had seemed to run so -smooth from the reel of life had got a snarl in it. I mistrusted it -had, but wouldn’t say anything to force her confidence, thinkin’ -that if she wanted me to know about it she had the use of her -tongue, and had always confided in me from the time she used to -show me her doll’s broken legs and arms with tears. - -Marion wuz well educated and always the most helpful little thing -about the house. She wuz one of the wimmen who would make a barn -look homelike, a good cook, a real little household fairy, and -Laurence Marsh had always seemed to appreciate these qualities in -her. Her Pa wuz well to do, so Marion had enough to do with, but -the care of the family all come on her, her Pa, the two twins, and -three singles makin’ quite a burden for her soft little shoulders -to bear. But she seemed to be strengthened for it some way, I guess -the Lord helped her. She had jined the church when she wuz fourteen -and wuz a Christian, everybody knew. She kep’ the house in perfect -order, with the help of one stout German girl, makin’ mistakes at -first but gittin’ the better of ’em as time went on, takin’ the -best of care of the baby girls, kept an eye on the three unruly -boys, kep’ ’em to home nights jest by lovin’ ’em and makin’ home -a pleasanter place than they could find anywhere else, injected -courage and hope into her Pa’s feeble will in jest the same way by -her love and cheerful, patient ways. - -She studied music chiefly so the boys could have some one to play -for ’em--they had good voices and loved to sing--studied all the -health books and books of household science so she could take the -right care of her babies, and her home improved every year, so -that now, when she wuz nineteen, I told Josiah that Marion Martin -wuz jest as perfect as human bein’s can be. You know folks can’t be -quite perfect, or else they would flop their wings and fly upwards. -And oh, how Marion loved her baby girls, two plump, curly haired -little cherubs, and how they loved her, and how her Pa and the -boys leaned on her! And I could see, if nobody else could, how her -heart wuz sot on Dr. Laurence Marsh, and I didn’t blame her, for -he wuz as fine a young chap as there wuz in the country. He wuzn’t -dependent on his profession, he had plenty of money of his own, -that fell onto him from his Ma. And he’d paid her so much attention -that I spozed he would offer her his heart and hand, though I -thought mebby he wuz held back by the thought of how necessary she -wuz in her own home. But it had come to me, and come straight--Elam -Parson’s widder told it to Deacon Bissel’s aunt, and she told it -to Betsy Bobbett’s stepdaughter, and she told Tirzah Ann, and she -told me; it come straight--that Marion’s Pa had been seen over to -Loontown three different times to the Widder Lummises, and I said -to myself the Lord had planned to lead Marion out of the kinder -stuny path of Duty into the rosy, love-lit path of Happiness, and I -felt well over it. - -But who can know anything for certain in this oncertain world? One -day, when I had just been congratulatin’ myself while I washed -my breakfast dishes about the apparently happy future waitin’ my -favorite (Miss Bobbett had been in to borry some tea and told me -she see the Widder Lummis in the store the day before buyin’ a -hull piece of Lonsdale cambric. And I can put two and two together -as well as the best. So I wuz washin’ away with a real warm glow -of happiness--my dish water wuz pretty hot, but that wuzn’t it -entirely), Josiah come in and said he wuz goin’ right by Marion’s -on bizness, and I could ride over and stay there whilst he wuz -gone. He wanted to go right away, but he wuz belated by the harness -breakin’ after we got started, so it wuz after the middle of the -forenoon before we got there. - -Marion wuz dretful glad to see me and visey versey, yes, indeed! it -wuz versey on my part, but I thought she looked wan, wanner than I -had ever seen her look. The hired girl had gone home on a visit, -and her Pa had took the two little girls and the boys out ridin’, -so Marion wuz alone. And as I looked round and see the perfect -order and beauty of her home, and my nose took in the odor of the -good dinner, started early, so’s to be done good (it wuz a stuffed -fowl she wuz roastin’ and cookin’ some vegetables that needed slow -cookin’), and as I looked at her, a perfect picture with her satin -brown hair, her pretty blue print dress, with white collar and -cuffs and white apron with a rose stuck in her belt, I thought to -myself the man that gits you will git a prize. But I wuz rousted -from my admirin’ thought after I had been there a little while by -Marion sayin’ in a pensive way: - -“Do you think I could write poetry, Aunt Samantha?” - -“Poetry?” sez I. “I d’no whether you could or not.” But as I looked -round agin I sez mildly, “Mebby you couldn’t write it, Marion, but -you could live it, and you do now in my opinion.” - -“Live poetry!” sez she wonderin’ly. - -“Yes,” sez I, “livin’ poetry is full as beautiful and necessary as -to write it, and a good deal more of a rarity.” - -I knew her hull life had run along better and smoother than any -blank verse I had ever seen, better than any Eppicac or Owed; it -had been a full, sweet, harmonious poem of love and order and duty. -But she sez agin sadly: - -“I can’t live poetry; I can only do common things. I can’t read -Greek or write poems, or carve statutes, or paint beautiful -pictures.” - -Her sweet eyes looked mournful. I wanted to chirk her up. So I sez, -as my nose agin took in a whiff of the delicious food, “Folks can -worry along for quite a spell without knowin’ Greek, when they can -understand and do justice to a well cooked meal of vittles.” And -sez I, as my eye roamed round the clean, sweet interior, “There is -such a thing as livin’ a beautiful picture, and moulding immortal -statutes” (I meant the dear, good actin’ little twins), “and in my -idee you’ve done it, and I know somebody else that thinks so, too.” - -“Oh, no, he don’t! he don’t!” And suddenly she knelt down by my -side and almost buried her pretty head in my shoulder and busted -into tears. And so it all come out, for all the world tellin’ me -about it jest as she did when the sawdust flowed from her doll’s -legs. - -It seemed that Laurence Marsh had been away to a relative’s -visitin’, and went to some charity doin’s and had there met a young -widder visitin’ in the place, a poetess and artist and sculptor; -she read a Greek poem dressed in Greek costoom, and some of her -pictures and statuettes wuz on sale. He got introduced to her. -She made the world and all of him, and I see how it wuz--men -are weak and easy flattered and don’t know when they’re well -off--the bright, pure star that had lit his life so long didn’t -seem so valuable and shinin’ as the dashin’ glitter of this newly -discovered meteor (metafor). The widder had writ to him and he had -writ to her, and his talk since then had been full of her, and I -see how it wuz, he wuz kinder waverin’ back and forth, though I -mistrusted, and as good as told Marion so, that his love for her -wuz as firm as ever, it wuz only his fancy that had been touched. - -Well, if you’ll believe it, that very afternoon after I’d got -home, who should come in but Laurence Marsh, he brought some legal -papers he had been fixin’ for Josiah--and I treated him quite cool, -about as cool as spring water, I should judge, for I didn’t like -the idee of his usin’ Marion as he had, though of course he wuzn’t -engaged to her, and had a right to pick and choose. And, for all -the world, if he didn’t go to work and confide in me. It duz beat -all how folks do open their hearts to me; I spoze it is my oncommon -good looks that makes ’em, and my noble mean, mebby, and if you’ll -believe it, and though I hadn’t no idee I should, I did feel kinder -sorry for him before he got through. He appreciated Marion, I see, -to the very extent of appreciation, but his fancy had been touched, -the romance in his nater had responded to Miss Piddockses romance. - -“Miss Piddock?” sez I, “she that wuz Evangeline Allen?” - -“Her name is Evangeline; so suited to her,” sez he. - -“A widder with three children?” sez I. - -“Yes, three beautiful little cherubs; I love them already from -their mother’s description.” - -“Why,” sez I, “Miss Piddock is related to Josiah on his own side, -and we’ve been layin’ out to go and see her, but sunthin’ has -hendered. She lived out West, and has only moved back a year or so -ago. We’ve writ back and forth; and Josiah and I got it all planned -to stop and see her,” sez I; “I, too, have been greatly took with -her writings.” His handsome face grew earnest, he has perfect -confidence in me, and sez he: - -“I can trust you, after you have been there will you tell me what -you think of her? Will you?” And sez he, “I feel that you will love -her, adore her; for if she is so lovely away among strangers what -a jewel she will be in the precious setting of her own beautiful -home! She has described it to me, and I have loved Nestle Down jest -from her description.” - -I sez coolly, “Josiah and I hain’t goin’ to be sent out like spies -to discover the land; why don’t you go yourself?” - -“She don’t want me to visit her,” sez he; “she is so sensitive, so -delicate, she has some reason I do not understand, and my duties to -the hospital tie me here until my vacation, which seems an age. But -my life’s happiness depends upon my decision,” sez he. - -Well, I didn’t give no promises nor refuse ’em. What made me more -lienitent to Laurence Marsh wuz that I, too, had such feelin’s -of deep respect for Evangeline Piddock. I, too, had read with a -beatin’ heart some of her poems on the beauty and sacredness of -home and domestic happiness, her glorification of Mother Love and -Duty, and at a relative’s I had seen some of her pictures and -statuettes in stun, beautiful as a dream--she wuz truly a disciple -of Art and Beauty and a Creator. And then--I heard his ardent -words, I see the light in his eyes. And oh, the joys and pains and -the dreams of youth, the raptures and the agonies! I could look -back and feel ’em agin in memory. The impatience with Destiny, -the hopes, the uncertainty, the roads that branch off in so many -different ways before the hasty impatient feet. Setting at rest at -eventide in the long cool shadows, don’t let us forget the blazing -skies, the heart beats, the ardent hopes, the ambitions, the -perplexing cares of the forenoon. - -Well, if you’ll believe it, the very next Sunday after that -Marion’s Pa married the Widder Lummis, stood up after meetin’ and -married her in a good, sensible, middle-aged way, and brung her -home, and Josiah and I wuz invited there the next week a-visitin’. -We’re highly thought on in Jonesville. - -I found Marion’s stepma quite a good lookin’ woman, full of animal -sperits and dressed handsome; she seemed good enough to Marion on -the outside, but I could see that home wuzn’t what it had been to -Marion in any way; her new Ma wanted to go ahead and be mistress, -and thought she had a right to, and she didn’t keep the house as -Marion did; things wuzn’t dirty, but if the house resembled any -poem at all it wuz a poem of Disorder and Tumult. She wanted the -two boys and the twins to like her, and she humored ’em, gin ’em -candy and indigestible stuff that Marion never approved of, but -they did highly, and they seemed kinder weaned from Marion and -took up with their good natered, indulgent new Ma. And of course -Marion’s Pa, as wuz nateral, wuz all engrossed in his new wife; she -wuz healthy, handsome, and a good cook. Poor Marion! in the new -anthem they wuz all jinin’ in there didn’t seem to be any part for -her voice. She looked like a mournin’ dove; my heart ached for her. - -Towards night I see her leanin’ up against the west winder of the -parlor lookin’ out sadly, and, though the settin’ sun wuz on her -face, it couldn’t lighten the shadder on it. I went up to her and -laid my hand on her shoulder, and I see then that her eyes had -been fixed on the pretty cottage Dr. Marsh had jest bought, the -prettiest place in Jonesville, a sort of a stun gray house settin’ -back in its green trees with a big lawn like velvet in front, all -dotted with flowering shrubs and handsome trees. But I never let on -that I knew what she wuz lookin’ at. But I sez, as I laid my hand -tenderly on her shoulder: - -“Dear, I shan’t see you agin for some time, as we’re goin’ to make -a few visits, if I can get Josiah started.” - -She lifted her big sad eyes to mine, they wuz full of tears, and -she didn’t need to say a word. Her tragedy wuz writ there, the -loss of everything she had loved and held dearest in her life; she -didn’t need to speak, I read it all, it wuz coarse print to me, I -didn’t need specs. And she read what she see in my eyes, the deep -love and sympathy I wouldn’t profane by puttin’ into words. No, I -jest bent down and kissed her and she me, and, havin’ passed the -compliments with the new Miss Martin, we went home, and the next -day we started on our tower. - -Well, as we approached Pennell Hill, the abode of Evangeline Allen -Piddock, I looked anxiously at myself and pardner and picked off -some specks of lint from his coat collar and my mantilly and -anxiously smoothed the creases of my umbrell and tried to fold it -up closter and more genteel, but I could not, it would bag, but I -felt a or in approachin’ her home, for I had studied her poems a -sight and almost worshipped ’em, and through them the writer, -you know sunthin’ as it reads, “Up through Nater to Nater’s God.” -So I had looked up through her glorious poems of Love and Home and -Childhood and Beauty, her divine poems and statutes, up to the -author, and my soul had knelt to her, and thinkses I, I am now on -the eve of enterin’ a home more perfect and beautiful than my eyes -have ever beheld, presided over by a perfect angel. Of course I -didn’t spoze she had wings or a halo, knowin’ a woman couldn’t git -around sweepin’ and dustin’ worth a cent with white feather wings, -and knowin’ the halo would more’n as likely as not drop off when -she wuz smoothin’ rugs or pickin’ posies to ornament her mantelry -piece. But I expected to see a woman perfected as I had never seen -her before in every way. And I not only paid attention to the -outside of our two frames, but I tried to pick out the very finest -soul garment I had by me, to clothe my sperit in, knowin’ then that -it wuz hardly worthy of her. - -[Illustration: AND THEN ALL THREE ON ’EM YELLED OUT: “RUBBER NECK! -RUBBER NECK!” - - _Page 49._] - -But my meditations wuz broke in on about a mild from Pennell Hill -by seein’ a strange lookin’ group of children ahead on us; they wuz -bareheaded and clad in ragged dirty garments, and their faces and -hands and feet wuz as near to Nater’s heart as dirt could make ’em. - -Their manners, too, wuz sassy, and grotesque in the extreme, for -when we stopped and I asked ’em politely if they could tell us -where Miss Evangeline Piddock lived, the oldest one sung out: - -“What do you want with her? You can’t see her anyway, she’s abed!” - -“No,” sez another of ’em, “she won’t look at you, you’re too -homely.” And still another stuck a grimy forefinger on the side -of a smudgy nose and sez, “What are you givin’ us?” And then all -three on ’em yelled out, “Rubber neck! Rubber neck!” Some sort -of a slang word, I spoze--and then they kicked up their dirty -heels and run and jumped over a fence, and one boy turned two -or three summersets, while the other ones kicked at us. Worse -lookin’ children I never see, nor worse actin’ ones, not in my hull -durin’ life; I felt stirred up and mad clear to my bones as they -disappeared over a hill. And I sez to Josiah: - -“I should think that the ennoblin’ influence of Evangeline Allen -Piddock would have elevated even neighborin’ children and kep’ ’em -from bein’ perfect savages like these.” - -And Josiah sez, “I’d love to try the ennoblin’ influence of a -good birch gad on ’em,” and I didn’t blame him, not a mite. Anon -we approached a shamblin’, run-down lookin’ place, the house with -the paint all off in spots and the picket fence dilapidated, the -pickets and rails hangin’ loose, and weeds runnin’ loose over the -yard, and Josiah sez, “We might inquire here where Evangeline -lives.” - -I sez, “She wouldn’t have anything to do with folks that live in -such a lookin’ place, but it wouldn’t do any hurt to inquire.” - -So Josiah approached the rickety piazza, and carefully stepped -up on the broken doorstep and rapped, the door-bell hangin’ down -broke. He rapped agin and yet agin, and the third time the door wuz -opened and a female appeared clad in a long flowing robe of sage -green, and her kinder yellow hair hangin’ loose, only banded in a -Greek sort of a way with a dirty ribbin and the robe wuz dirty and -two or three holes in it. - -Sez Josiah, “Mom, can you tell me where she that wuz Evangeline -Allen lives, Miss Piddock that now is?” - -And then the female struck a sort of a graceful attitude and sez, -“I am Evangeline Allen Piddock.” - -You could have knocked me down with a hair-pin, and my poor Josiah -wuz also struck almost sensible, and sez he, “Well, we’ve come!” -And the female looked down on him, still holdin’ that graceful -attitude. But I broke the deadlock that ensued by callin’ out from -the democrat, I wuz only a little ways off: - -“Miss Piddock, let me introduce Josiah to you.” - -She come forward eagerly and sez with effusion, “Is this Cousin -Josiah Allen?” And she shook his hands warmly. “And is this my dear -Cousin Samantha?” sez she, approachin’ the vehicle and holdin’ -my hand in both of hers. “Descend from your equipage!” sez she. -“Welcome, dear cousins, to Nestle Down!” - -“Thank you, Evangeline,” sez I, as I slowly backed out of the -democrat and alighted down. But my soul wildly questioned me, -“Where, where shall we nestle down?” For I couldn’t see any place. -And after we got our things off and wuz visitin’ my soul still kep’ -up this questionin’, “When, when shall I nestle down? And where?” -For the outside of the house wuzn’t a circumstance to the inside; -everything that could be out of place wuz, and everything that -could be dirty lived up to its full privileges in that respect. -The hired girl, a shiftless critter, I could see, wuz sick with -nooraligy, but appeared with a mussy, faded out, calico wrapper and -a yeller flannel tied round her face, and inquired what she should -git for supper. Evangeline wuz at that minute describing to me a -statute she had in her mind to sculp, but she left off and gin the -girl some orders, and then kep’ on with her talk. - -She sez, “My mind revels in the heroic, the romantic, it spreads -its wings and flies away from the Present and the Real into the -Beautiful, the Ideal.” - -And I thought to myself I didn’t blame the soul for wantin’ to -git away somewhere, but knew that it ort to be right there up and -a-doin’ sunthin’ to make matters different. - -Well, after a long interval we wuz called out to the supper table. -There wuz a crumpled, soiled tablecloth hangin’ onevenly on a -broken legged table, propped up by a book on one side. I looked at -the book, and I see that it wuz “The Search for the Beautiful,” and -I knowed that it could never find it there. Some showy decorated -dishes, nicked and cracked, held our repast--thick slices of heavy -indigestible bread; some cake fallen as flat as Babylon (you know -the him states “Babylon is fallen to rise no more”), some dyspeptic -lookin’, watery potatoes and cold livid slices of tough beef; -some canned berries that had worked, the only stiddy workers I -judged that had been round; some tea made with luke-warm water. -Such wuz our fare enlivened by the presence of three of the worst -actin’, worst lookin’ children I ever see in my life, clamberin’, -disputin’, sassy little demons, reachin’ acrost the table for -everything they wanted, sassin’ their Ma and makin’ up faces at -us sarahuptishously, but I ketched ’em at it. The girl with the -nooraligy waited on the table; her dress hadn’t been changed, but a -mussy lookin’ muslin cap wuz perched on top of the yeller flannel -and a equally crumpled, soiled, white muslin apron surmounted her -dress, but, style bein’ maintained by these two objects, Evangeline -seemed to be content. - -She wuz the only serene, happy one at the table, and she led the -conversation upward into fields of Poesy with a fine disregard to -her surroundin’s that wuz wonderful in the extreme. Her talk wuz -beautiful and inspirin’, and in spite of myself I found myself anon -or oftener led up some distance into happier spears of fancy and -imagination. But a howl from some of the little demons would bring -me down agin, and a look at my dear pardner’s face of agony would -plunge me, too, into gloom. Eat he could not; I myself, such is -woman’s heroism and self-sacrifice, and feelin’ that I must make up -for his arrearages, eat more than wuz for my good, which I paid for -dearly afterwards, and knowed I must; dyspepsia claimed me for its -victim, and I suffered turribly, but of this more anon and bimeby. - -After supper we returned into the parlor, the children with -variegated faces and hands, caused by berry juice and butter, -swarmin’ over us and everything in the room, so I see plain the -reason that every single thing wuz nasty and broken in the house -and outside. They wuz oncomfortable as could be, every one on ’em -had the stomach ache; and why shouldn’t they! The acid in their -veins made ’em demoniac in their ways. Not one mouthful had they -eat that wuz proper for children to eat, nor for any one else -unless their stomach wuz made of iron or gutty-perchy. And I didn’t -believe they ever took a bath unless they fell into the water, -which they often did. The girl had gin their face and hands a hasty -wipe with a wet towel, and their hair, which wuz shingled, wuz as -frowsy and onclean as shingles would admit of. - -Evangeline wuz good natered, and she had the faculty, Heaven knows -how she could exercise it, of bein’ perfectly oblivious to her -surroundin’s, and soarin’ up to the pure Heavens, whilst her body -wuz down in a state worse than savages. Yes, so I calmly admitted -to myself, for savages roamed the free wild forest, and clean spots -could be found amongst the wild green woods, but here in vain would -you seek for one. Her poems and statutes wuz beautiful, and she -had piles on ’em, some done, some only jest begun; she wuz workin’ -now on a statute of Sikey, beautiful as a poem in marble could be, -and as we wuz lookin’ at it she sez, liftin’ her large, fine eyes -heavenward: - -“Oh, to create, to be a creator of beauty in poem or picture or -statute, it seems to make one a partner with the Deity.” - -“Yes,” sez I, “there is a good deal of sense in that, and I fully -appreciate beauty wherever I see it.” - -But, bein’ gored by Duty, sez I, “How would it work to make your -own children, of which you are the author, works of art and beauty, -care for them, work at them some as you do at your own stun -figgers, cuttin’ off the rough edges, prunin’ and cuttin’ so the -soul will show through the human, and they havin’ the advantage -over your statutes that the good work you expend on them is liable -to go on to the end of time, carryin’ out your lofty ideals in -other lives--how would it work, Evangeline, and makin’ your own -home as nigh as you can like the ideal one you dote on--wouldn’t it -be better for you?” - -She said it wouldn’t work at all; the care of home and children -hampered her and held her down; she preferred pure, unadulterated -art, onmingled with duties. - -But I sez, “Wouldn’t the time to decide that question been before -you volunteered to assume these cares; but after you have done so -how would it work to do the very best you could with them, finish -the work you have begun in as artistic and perfect a way as you -can?” - -I was cautious, I didn’t come out as I wanted to, so I sez, “How -would it work?” - -But she sez agin, “It wouldn’t work at all.” Sez she, “To describe -the beauty of home and love, and child life in marble and poem and -picture, she had to be severed entirely from all low and ignoble -cares.” - -“Low and ignoble!” sez I, for that kinder madded me. “No work a -woman can do is more noble and elevatin’ than to make a beautiful -home where lovely children rise up to call her blessed. Such a work -is copyin’ below as nigh as mortals can the work divine; for isn’t -Heaven depictered as our everlastin’ home, and God the Father as -lovin’ and carin’ for His children with everlastin’ love, countin’ -the hairs of their heads even, He takes such clost care of ’em?” - -“He don’t order us to be shingled, either,” spoke up Josiah. “He -don’t begretch the work of countin’ our hair.” - -I wunk at him to be calm, for oh! how cross his axent wuz, but -knowin’ that famine wuz the cause of it I didn’t contend, but -resoomed: - -“See how our Father beautifies and ornaments our home, Evangeline, -with the glories of spring and summer, fills it with the perfume of -flowers, the song of birds, hangs above us His dark blue mantilly -studded with stars, and from the least little mosses in hid-away -nooks up to the everlastin’ march of the planets, every single -thing is perfect and in order. His tireless love and care never -ceases, but surrounds us every moment in the home He makes and -keeps up for us below,” sez I. “If a woman prefers to keep aloof -from the cares and responsibilities of wifehood and parenthood, -let her do so, but havin’ assumed ’em let her realize their duty -and dignity, for,” sez I, “to create a true home, Evangeline, is -worthy of all a woman’s efforts, and in such a cause even brooms -and dish-cloths take on a sacred meaning.” - -But she said that mops and dish-cloths and such things wuz fetters -that she could not brook. And at that moment the three little imps -all fell into the room demandin’ with shrieks and kicks sunthin’ -or ruther that their Ma couldn’t pay any attention to, as she wuz -absorbed in contemplating a slight thickness in a minute part of -the butterfly’s wing on Sikey’s shoulder, and her mind wuz all took -up in thinkin’ how could she prune it off without destroying the -wing, it wuz so fragile and yet so highly necessary to be done. So -havin’ howled round her for a spell and tugged at her Greek robe, -so I see plain how the dirt and rents come on it, they hailed the -passin’ figger of the hired girl in the hall and precipitated -themselves onto her, havin’ previously kicked at the panels of the -door so it almost parted asunder, so I could see plain how in a -year’s time everything wuz in ruins outside and inside Nestle Down, -and how impracticable it wuz that any ordinary person could by any -possibility ever nestle down there, but Josiah here broke in agin: - -“Evangeline, how long did your husband live?” - -Sez she, liftin’ a torn lace handkerchief to her eyes, and leanin’ -up against one of her statutes a good deal as I’ve seen Grief in a -monument in a mournin’ piece, “He lingered along for years, but he -wuz sick all the time, he had acute dyspepsia.” - -“I thought so,” said Josiah, “I almost knowed it!” - -Agin I wunk at him to keep still, but his arms wuz folded over his -empty stomach with a expression of agony on him, and he answered -my sithe with a deep groan, and knowin’ that I had better remove -him to once, I proposed that we should retire. But Evangeline -wuz describing a most magnificent sunset which she proposed to -immortalize in a poem, and in spite of the gripin’ in my stomach, -which had begun fearful, I couldn’t help bein’ carried away some -distance by her eloquent language. - -Well, at my second or third request we retired and went to bed. Our -room wuz a big empty lookin’ one, the girl havin’ lately started to -clean it, but prevented by nooraligy, the carpet nails hadn’t been -took out only on two sides, and the children had been playin’ under -it, I judged by the humps and hummocks under it. Josiah drawed out -from under it a sled, an old boot-jack, and a Noah’s Ark that he -had stubbed his foot aginst, and I tripped and most fell over a -basket-ball and a crokay mallet. The washstand had been used by -them, I thought, for headquarters for the enemy, for some stuns wuz -piled up on it, a broken old hammer, a leather covered ball, and -some marbles. - -The lamp hadn’t been washed for weeks, I judged, by the mournin’ -chimbly and gummed-up wick, and there wuz mebby a spunful of -kerseen in the dirty bottom of the lamp. The bed wuz awful; the -children had used it also as a receptacle for different things. -We drawed out of it a old sponge, a dead rat, crumbs of bread and -butter, and a pair of old shoes. - -The girl who showed us up said the children had played there all -the day before, it bein’ rainy, but she guessed we would find -everything all right. Not a mite of water in the broken nosed -pitcher, not a particle of soap, but an old apple core reposed in -the dirty soap dish. - -Well, I fixed things as well as I could, and we pulled the soiled, -torn lace coverlet over us and sought the repose of sleep, but -in vain, awful pains in my stomach attested to the voyalation of -nater’s laws. Josiah wore out, and, groanin’ to the last, fell -asleep, for which I wuz thankful, the oil burnt out to once, -leavin’ a souvenir of smoke to add to the vile collection of -smells, so I lay there in the dark amidst the musty odors and -suffered, suffered dretful in body and sperit. - -Amidst the gripin’ of colic I compared this home to the home Marion -had composed like a rare poem of beauty, and I bethought how much -more desirable is real practical duty and beauty than the gauzy -fabric wrought of imagination, or ’tennyrate how necessary it wuz -not to choose two masters. If one loved Art well enough to wed it -and leave father and mother for its sake, well and good, but after -chosin’ love and home and children, how necessary and beautiful -it wuz to tend to them first of all, and then pay devotion to Art -afterwards. - -Well, I couldn’t allegore much, I wuz in too much pain, dyspepsia -lay holt of me turribly. But amidst its twinges I remember wishin’ -that Laurence Marsh could compare as I had the two homes and lives -composed by Marion and Evangeline. - -And then a worse twinge of pain brung this thought, a doctor I -ought to have. A woman should be allowed to choose her own doctor. -I said to myself I will send for Doctor Laurence Marsh in the -mornin’, which I did. Josiah bein’ skairt telephoned to him to come -to once. He come on the cars, arrivin’ at about ten A. M. - -I guess I had better hang up a curtain between the reader and -Laurence Marsh as he stood in that home confronted by Evangeline -Allen Piddock and her household. I hadn’t told her who I had sent -for, not havin’ seen her that mornin’, so he see ’em all in a state -of nater as it were. - -Yes, I will hold up a thick, heavy curtain with Josiah’s help, for -I don’t want the reader to see Laurence Marshes face as he looked -about him in the parlor and up by my bedside--such a bedside! His -face, as he measured out the medicine, wuz, as Mr. Byron sez, “a -scroll on which unutterable thoughts wuz traced.” But, amidst all -his perturbations of mind and wrecks of airy castles and dreams, -nothin’ could prevent him from bein’ a good doctor, though owin’ to -a urgent hurry, a case of life and death, he said, he had to return -to Jonesville immegiately, which he did. - -But I felt so much better after takin’ the tablets twice every half -hour that we started home a little after leven. - -It seemed to me that home never seemed so good, so dear, and so -clean to me in my hull life before, and what added to my perfect -enjoyment, jest as we set down to a delicious supper, cooked by -my own hands, one of the singles brought over a note to me from -Marion. It wuz a invitation to her weddin’, which wuz to take place -the next week. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -What Maggie said about her makin’ a change kinder staid with me. -Great is the power of suggestion. She suggested it to me, and I -passed on the influence to my pardner. - -I sez, “We’ve worked hard, and why not rest off and take a little -comfort?” - -“Comfort! Who ever took any comfort a-visitin’! Bound up in your -best clothes settin’ round and talkin’ polite.” - -“Your clothes don’t bind you, Josiah, and you know I always seek -comfort first, hopin’ mebby good lookin’ things may be added unto -me. And as for politeness, you don’t strain yourself much that way, -and I’d love to see some of these friends we owe visits to.” - -He sez, “Don’t you want to go to Nestle Down agin?” And I sez, “No, -I did all the nestlin’ I wanted to once.” - -Well, it wuz a number of days before he gin his consent, but -finally he did, and we sot off, and our first visit wuz to Alcander -and Fidelia Pogram’s. - -We had been owin’ ’em visits for some time. They’re movin’ -planets, and revolve round considerable, and always have. We are -stars, Josiah and me, that are more fixed in our orbits. It wuz -on one of Alcanderses revolutions (with of course his satellite -Fidelia a-revolvin’ round him) that they lived neighbor to us -for over two years, and I got real attached to Fidelia. She is a -conscientious, painstaking woman, and her husband is well off, and -naterally good-natered and well-meanin’. But when they wuz first -married Fidelia made a Molok of him, and burnt incense before him -day and night, burnin’ up on that altar all her own preferences -and desires, all her chances of recreation and rest, all her own -ideals, her own loves. - -Never tryin’ to lift herself up and look abroad into the sunlight, -and foller it outdoors into happiness--no; she jest sot crouched -before that altar till her eyes got dim with the smoke of her -sacrifice and she couldn’t straighten up. And the cloud of incense -she wuz offerin’ up to him from day to day wuz so heavy between -’em that he’d lost sight of her; and bein’ at his feet, instead of -by his side where she belonged, he couldn’t see her very well, and -she seemed to be quite a distance away from him. She had made over -by such doin’s his naterally generous disposition into a selfish, -overbearin’ one. He wuz about as innocent as a babe of the way it -wuz done, and she, too. But, take it all in all, she had made about -the worst botch of married life that I had ever seen made, and she -all the time jest as conscientious and religious as old Job or -Zekiel or any of ’em; and he, too, thought that he wuz jest as good -as Obadiah or Jonah or Enoch. And, what made it seem still worse to -me, she wuz bringin’ up her girl in the same way. - -Elinor wuz goin’ on twenty-one, and had a bo, Louis Arnold by name. -Her Ma had told me about it the year before, and I had noticed that -Elinor looked real rosy and sweet. That wuz in the first days of -courtship, and I could see that the spell wuz upon her. The earth -wuz glorified; the heavens bent down clost to her; she and Louis -wuz a-walkin’ through Eden. But the next time I see Elinor she -looked considerable faded and anxious-eyed; for all the world her -eyes looked like her Ma’s--lovin’ and faithful as a dog’s, and as -anxious lookin’ as a dog’s when it has been doin’ sunthin’ and -expects a whippin’. I had hearn from a neighbor that Louis wuz of -late growin’ cool in his attentions to Elinor. And I felt bad, for -I mistrusted how it wuz done. She had sot him up on such a hite -that he looked down on her. Good land! with her poster, he had -to look down if he see her at all. The neighbor said that it wuz -spozed that Elinor wuz goin’ into a decline, and sez she: “That -Louis Arnold is a villian. He paid her attention for a year and -won her love, and wuz as good as engaged to her, and she doin’ -everything under the sun to keep his love, and then he grew cool -and drawed off. He is a villian!” she repeated. - -“Well, mebby there is blame on both sides.” - -And agin she sez, “Elinor did everything to hold him, and duz yet, -for she still hopes to keep him.” - -And I sez, “Mebby she did too much.” - -And the neighbor glared at me, and sez coldly, “I don’t understand -you.” - -And I sez, “No, I spoze not.” And I didn’t explain furder, nor she -didn’t. - -And this neighbor, bein’ a sharp-eyed-and-nosed woman, who -evidently loved scandal, sez, “Have you hearn anything more about -Fidelia’s troubles?” - -And I sez, “No.” - -And she sez, “Poor creeter! she is passin’ through the waters.” - -And I sez: “What waters? Has she fell into the creek, or has her -suller overflowed?” - -And then she sez, right out, “Her hired girl gits more of her -husband’s attention than she duz. Folks talk a sight!” sez she. - -And I sez, coolly, “They generally do; they mostly make out not to -lose the use of their tongues by tyin’ ’em to their teeth.” - -And I wouldn’t ask a word more; but she went on: “Everybody sez -Minnie acts more like the mistress of the house than Fidelia -duz, dressed up and loiterin’ round; though they do say that she -is faithful and honest; but Fidelia duz the hardest of the work -herself, and folks say that Minnie eats with them, and if anything -is wanted Fidelia gits up and gits it, and Minnie sits like a lady.” - -“Well,” sez I, “most probable that is Fidelia’s fault. She wouldn’t -do it unless she wuz a fool!” sez I. - -“And some one told me,” sez the neighbor, “that hearn it from one -that wuz knowin’ to it, that Alcander had been known to pay Minnie -compliments on her good looks and pretty dresses and find fault -with Fidelia.” - -“Well,” sez I, “that is nothin’ but human man-nater; they will -always find fault with their wives in preference to other wimmen; -they’re built in jest that way, and mebby they can’t help it. I -spoze mebby they think that they’re complimentin’ ’em, payin’ -attention to ’em; men are so queer.” - -And agin she looked real meanin’, and sez, “Well, folks talk a -sight.” - -And I sez agin, “They most generally do.” - -Well, Fidelia Pogram wuz dretful glad to see me, and so wuz Elinor. -Alcander, owin’ to the course of treatment he had had, acted some -hauty, bein’ I wuz a woman--Fidelia’s fault, every mite on’t. -Alcander wuz warm-hearted when he wuz married, and liked wimmen -jest as well as he did men--and better, too, his wife bein’ a -woman. Well, I see in a minute that Elinor looked bad, holler-eyed, -pale, wan, and some stoopin’ in the shoulders (but of that more -anon). Well, they hurried round and got a good supper. Fidelia is -a splendid cook and duz all the cookin’, for Alcander likes her -cookin’ better than he duz anybody else’s; and Fidelia, bein’ so -anxious to please him, duz it all, every mite; and he thinks that -Fidelia duz up his shirt bosoms better, and so she irons all the -fine clothes; and Alcander finds a sight of fault if the house -hain’t kep’ jest so; and, Minnie not bein’ a nateral housekeeper, -Fidelia jest slaves round all the time, cleanin’ and pickin’ up, -and looks fagged out and tired and worn all the time, and the hired -girl pert and rosy; and Alcander paid her a compliment on her good -looks, and wished right before me that Fidelia could look more like -Minnie, and Minnie bridled up and looked tickled, and Fidelia’s -head drooped like a droopin’ dove’s. And I don’t know when I have -been madder, both as a friend and as a woman. - -And I spoke right up, and sez, “Mebby if Minnie had been in the -kitchen over a hot stove, and br’iled the steak and creamed the -potatoes and made the coffee, and if Fidelia had been out on the -piazza part of the time, mebby she would have looked more fresh.” I -had seen Minnie there half of the time she wuz a-settin’ the table, -a-leanin’ over the railin’, actin’ lazy and uppish. - -“But,” sez Alcander coolly, “Fidelia prefers to do the cookin’.” - -“Yes,” sez Fidelia faintly--for she wuz wore out--“yes, I prefer -to.” - -“Well,” sez I, “if you do, it is the least we can do, who enjoys -your delicious supper, to be thankful to you, and sorry that you -have wore yourself out for our enjoyment.” Fidelia’s cheeks flushed -and her eyes brightened at the unusual thing of a word of praise -bein’ gin to her; and the hired girl looked mad and black; and -Alcander looked on with perfect wonder at the turn things had took, -and spoke quite soft to Fidelia, and she brightened up still more. - -Sez he, “Nobody can cook a steak equal to Fidelia.” - -And my Josiah looked real tempersome, and as if he wuz a-goin’ in -to combat for my rights as a stak’ist. But I spoke right up and sez: - -“That is so, Alcander. Fidelia is one of the most splendid cooks -in the county, and you must be proud of her, and do all you can to -make her rest and recreate between meals, jest out of gratitude to -the one that furnishes such delicious food.” - -He looked kinder cheap; and Fidelia looked troubled, for she -mistrusted that there wuz a shadder of blame bein’ cast onto -Alcander; but I changed the subject, like a good mistress of -ticktacks. - -“I spoze, Elinor, you have read the last great book of----?” and I -named a book very upliftin’, and beloved by young wimmen. - -“No,” she said; she hadn’t much time for readin’, she wuz so busy -makin’ Christmas gifts. - -Sez Fidelia, proudly, “Elinor has hem-stitched twenty-two fine -linen han’kerchiefs for the aunts and cousins on both sides, and -made home-made lace to trim them with out of one-hundred-and-twenty -thread.” - -And I sez, “I don’t know that there wuz any thread so fine.” - -“Yes,” sez Fidelia; “it looks like a cobweb; and out of that same -thread she has made twenty yards of that lace to trim underclothes -for her two sister-in-laws.” - -“Isn’t it bad for her eyes, Fidelia?” sez I, lookin’ at the worn, -red eyelids of Elinor. - -“Yes,” sez Fidelia, “it wuz very hard on her; but she wanted to do -it, for she thought they would prize ’em higher; and then,” sez -Fidelia, “she has made two dozen doilies for Louis’ mother out of -that same thread.” - -“How long did it take you to do it?” sez I dryly. - -“Oh,” sez she, “I had them for work all summer; I begun ’em the 1st -of June, so I could be sure to get them done for Christmas. I think -that I could have done them in two months if I had worked all the -time.” - -And I sez to myself, all these long golden summer hours, sweet with -bird-song, fragrant with flowers and beauty, she had sot over her -one-hundred-and-twenty thread patiently weavin’ cobwebs, hopin’ -mebby to ketch Happiness in it; but ’tennyrate doin’ this slow -work, stitch by stitch, and lettin’ all the beauty and glory of -summer and life go by. For I begun to see plainer than ever why -Louis Arnold wuz a defaulter in the bank of love. - -“Afterwards in her room,” sez Fidelia, “I want you to see the -slippers she has embroidered for Louis--I never see the beat of it; -they are so fine you can’t tell where the stitches are put; each -one took her three weeks of stiddy work; they are a design of pink -roses on a sky-blue ground.” - -Sez I, “She could have bought a pair for five dollars that would -have done jest as well, and I would have loved to have seen some -of the pink roses on her cheeks, and some of the bright sky-blue -in her eyes. They used to look like bits of the sky peeping out of -rosy clouds.” (Them wuz her cheeks in metafor.) “But they look -faded now, Fidelia,” sez I--“dretful faded and wore out.” - -“Yes,” sez she, “she has injured her eyesight this summer--injured -it a sight. She has sot up till midnight, night after night, -workin’, for fear she wouldn’t git ’em done in time. And then,” sez -she, bustin’ out into a confidential tone, “she has cried a good -deal. Oh, Samantha,” sez she, “you don’t know how much that girl is -a-sufferin’. There she is, jest the same as engaged, and she jest -as faithful as the north star to the pole, and he growin’ cool all -the time and indifferent.” - -“Well,” sez I, “the stiddy faithfulness of the star can’t be -changed, Fidelia, nor the coldness of the north pole, for it is the -nater of that pole to be frigid, and we can’t do anything to warm -it up. But,” sez I, “as for this matter of Elinor and Louis Arnold, -I believe my soul that I could make a change in their doin’s if I -had my way.” - -“Oh, dear Samantha! Could you, could you?” sez Fidelia, a-wipin’ up -her tears and lookin’ some brighter. - -“But,” sez I, sort of lookin’ off mentally some distance, “it -hain’t no ways likely that she would do what I would want her to.” - -“Oh, she would!” sez Fidelia. - -“I would, I would!” cried Elinor, advancin’ from behind the -porchair. “Forgive me; I wuz behind the curtain a-catchin’ the -last daylight on these slippers, and I overheard your talk. I will -do jest as you say, for my heart is breakin’, Aunt Samantha,” sez -she. They always auntied and uncled us, our children did, Fidelia’s -and mine. “I will do jest what you tell me to,” sez she, standin’ -before me, tears streamin’ down her white cheeks, her work-box in -one hand, and the oncompleted slipper a-danglin’ in the other. - -“Well,” sez I, “the first thing to do is to put them aside,” sez I, -motionin’ to the slippers, two-thirds of which wuz not done; “and -them, too,” sez I, p’intin’ to the delicate cobweb-work hangin’ -over the sides of her work-basket. - -“Lay them aside!” sez she, in wonderin’, horrer-struck axents; -“these Christmas gifts?” - -And I leaned back in my chair and looked indifferent, and sez I, “I -knew you wouldn’t do what I wanted you to.” - -“Oh, I will, I will!” sez she. “I will do it.” And she went to a -side table and laid the work-basket on it and throwed a scarf over -it. I see she meant bizness, and she come back and sot down on a -low stool at my feet and leaned her pretty head against my knee, -and I smoothed down the clusterin’ curls on her pale forward and -went on. - -“Now,” sez I, “the first thing you do, you go to the book-store -and buy a handsome copy of ‘Is Marriage a Failure?’ for Louis -Arnold, and some other nice book or piece of useful silver-ware -for his mother. Wrop these oncompleted gifts up in silk paper and -put them in the draw; and as you shet that draw up, shet up in it -all your cares and anxieties for Christmas; keep in your mind only -the beauty and blessedness of the day, and its holy and hallowed -meanin’. Keep this cobweb-work you have done for yourself as a -motto that means ‘I will never do it agin,’ and buy of some poor -girl that wants the money some of this hem-stitchin’ and tattin’ -and drawn-work you want for your relations, and do them up, ready -to send away, and put them in draws; and when you shet up them -draws, shet up all anxieties for them. Then,” sez I, “all this off -your mind, bathe your wore-out eyes and pale face in some good pure -water, go to bed at nine, and get up in the early mornin’ fresh and -vigorous, and go out into the sunlight and drink down the sweet air -like a healin’ cordial.” - -The weather wuz wonderful for October; Injun summer had made the -country beautiful; the roads wuz hard and smooth as summer roads. -Sez I, “Forgit all your cares, put on the pretty short dress you -used to wear, and go out for a long ride.” - -“Oh,” sez she, “I don’t ride the wheel any more.” - -“Why?” sez I wonderin’ly. - -“Oh, Louis don’t like to have me. He thinks it is old-fashioned and -unladylike and unwomanly.” - -“Don’t he ride?” sez I. - -“Oh, yes--he has to for his nerves. He has an auto, but he thinks -that ridin’ a wheel almost cured him. He used to be dretful nervous -and weak. He can’t bear bein’ shut up in the house all the time.” - -“Well,” sez I, “didn’t you think that it helped you to ride? Your -Ma told me that you felt like a new creature after you had had your -wheel for a month.” - -“Oh, yes, Aunt Samantha,” sez she, “it did help me more than I -can tell, and you don’t know how I have missed it; I have felt -that it would have been such a help to me while I was makin’ these -Christmas gifts.” - -“Well, why under the sun and moon, to say nothin’ of the stars and -meteors, haven’t you kept on with what you knew helped you so?” - -“Oh, Louis doesn’t approve of my ridin’, and he wuz bitterly -opposed to my wearin’ short skirts; he considered it immodest, and -I had jest about as soon not go at all as to go in my long skirts. -The last time I rode, to please Louis I wore my long dress, and -right in the middle of the village my dress wound round the wheel, -and it wound my dress right up offen me, and I fell over onto my -head.” - -“I suppose he considered that more modest?” sez I, dry as a chip. - -“He is dretful opposed to short skirts,” sez she; “he talked awful -to me about ’em.” - -“Why don’t you insist on his wearin’ his bath-robe on his wheel? -Let him try it once, and then see. Why didn’t you say that you wuz -shocked at the sight of his long limbs, and favored the Eastern -garb for men? Your dress wuz modest and mejum, it come to the tops -of your shoes, and you wore a divided skirt of the same cloth; -you can tell him, from me, your dress wuz jest twice as modest as -his’n.” - -“Oh,” sez she, “I wouldn’t think of criticisin’ his dress.” - -“Why not, as long as he criticises yours? But as for your dress -and his’n, they’re both all right. And now do you, within the next -fifteen minutes, don that garb, and go out on that wheel and take a -good long ride.” - -“Oh, I don’t feel as though I could go right against his wishes. I -have done everything I could to hold his love.” - -“You have done too much,” sez I coolly. “And now, Elinor Pogram, do -you brace up and have a little gumption. Get right onto your wheel -and go out into the sweet air and sunlight; and if you meet Louis -Arnold, jest nod at him cool as a cowcumber, and go right on and -foller it up next day and next, or as long as good weather lasts. - -“I believe you rusted and tired out your faculties bendin’ -over your fine work from day to day, and he didn’t find your -companionship exhilaratin’ and inspirin’ at all. He is a bright -chap,” sez I, “you know, and he will seek bright, inspirin’ -company.” - -She looked up gratefully as I abused her and excused Louis, in a -real womanly way, and left the room to put on her short bicycle -rig. It wuz dark blue braided with white, and a coquettish little -white cap with some black feathers stuck up real cute on one side, -and she looked as pretty as a pink--a white pink--and real cunnin’ -as she sot off. Well, she come back lookin’ perter considerable; -she hadn’t met Louis, but she had met the sunshine and soft autumn -air, and they had invigorated her. - -The next mornin’ I went with her, at her request, to git the books -and presents I had named, and, at my request, they wuz locked up -at 12 M., and backaches and eye-smarts and fevered anxieties and -pricked finger-ends with ’em. And at 3 P. M. she sot off agin on -her wheel. This time she come back lookin’ considerable white -around her lips, but her eyes bright and cheeks rosy, after all; -she had met Louis and done what I told her, and left him in such a -state of complete stupefication she wuz alarmed about him. Sez she -anxiously, “His looks wuz so wonder-struck and alarmed that I fear -for his safety; I fear that he may be led to extreme lengths,” sez -she. - -“Wuz he on his wheel?” sez I. - -“Yes,” she replied, “he wuz on his wheel, and the picture of health -and strength.” - -“And so will you be,” sez I, “now you have laid aside your -eye-harrowin’, nerve-destroyin’ needle-work; and when I say this, -understand distinctly that I might applaud, though I pitied, your -work if it earned you your livelihood. But in your case it is -needless, and so I have said lay it aside; there is no fear but -that you will perform all the domestic duties you ort to, for it -is in your nater, and you will resoom your music and books, for -you will want to get brightness from them; but be out, care-free, -under the blue heavens all you can. Respect yourself, and insist on -bein’ respected. Be thoughtful of Louis’ rights, and insist on his -bein’ thoughtful of yours; respect his opinions so fur as you can -consistently; but as for his selfishness and whims, git onto your -wheel and ride right through ’em. If you are to walk through life -together, stand up straight by his side; don’t crouch at his feet -doin’ drawn-work and tattin’ all your days; he will like you enough -sight better. If you find him worthy, and you are to be his wife, -make his home the most delightful place on earth--a clean, sweet -restin’-place from the toils of life and a shelter from its storms; -but don’t burn up your own individuality as incense before him; -keep it to make his home more charmin’ than any other. Make him -love you for your sweet love and care for him; make him admire you -for your thought and care for yourself; use a lot of common sense -in the receipt of married life, and mejumness, use that lavish, and -you’ll git along first rate.” - -Well, they urged me to stay a week or so; and Josiah havin’ bizness -to ’tend to right there, we gin consent. Elinor kep’ on jest as I -had planned, and stimulated by the example of plain common sense -right before her eyes, Fidelia braced up and began to use some -common sense and some mejumness herself. She spoke out of her own -accord one afternoon, and sez she: - -“I have three night-shirts done, embroidered for Alcander, and I am -not goin’ to make any more of them for Christmas; and you, Minnie,” -sez she, turnin’ to the pert-faced domestic, “you may wash them and -do them up the next time you wash.” - -“Why,” sez Minnie, “I can’t do the washin’ and ironin’ as well as -you can, Mis’ Pogram. Mr. Pogram won’t like my ironin’, I am sure.” - -“Well, he will have to stand it,” sez Fidelia, lookin’ some pale, -but real decided; “and when you broil the steak for supper, Minnie, -be sure you don’t burn it; have a hot platter ready for it, and put -on the butter and pepper and salt even, and bring it to the table -pipin’ hot.” - -The girl’s hauty feathers seemed to droop, and she spoke more -respectful to Fidelia than I had hearn her speak, and sez she, “I -will do my best, mom.” - -And sez Fidelia, “If Mr. Pogram comes here before we do, tell him -that Josiah Allen’s wife and I have gone out for a long drive.” - -In my inmost heart I said, “Bravo, Fidelia! bravo!” But outside I -only said, “I shall be real glad to have a good long drive with -you, Fidelia; it will put me in mind of old times.” - -So Fidelia ordered her pony and low phaeton brought to the door -and we sot off. It wuz a very comfortable carriage, cushioned with -blue. I see that Alcander did his part by Fidelia in furnishin’ -comforts and luxuries for her, only, bein’ so much engaged in -incense-burnin’ and embroidery, she couldn’t take advantage of -’em. As I lay back on the soft cushions my mind roved off on -the strange turn things had took, and I wondered if it wuz the -atmosphere of my strong desire and goodwill to help her that had -stimulated Fidelia to use a little common-sense; for I had not -said a word to her about her affairs and Alcanderses. I knew -that high, clear mountain air would do wonders for sick folks -in a short time, and I knew that my will to help her towered up -perfectly mountainous and high, and I spoze mebby it braced her up. -We mortals are such strange creeters anyway that we can’t really -understand how things be thus and so. But, ’tennyrate, as we rolled -along the pleasant country roads, under trees orange and scarlet -and gold-colored, sweet with the birds’ late songs, out into -sunny stretches of open country roads, sun-glorified, and further -embellished on either side by cozy homesteads and loftier mansions, -and anon long green meadows stretchin’ away to green woods and -tree-covered hills, with a tender haze hangin’ about ’em--as our -phaeton rolled noiselessly on through the soft, sweet Injun-summer -air, Fidelia’s cheeks got to lookin’ considerable pink, and her -faded eyes brightened up considerable, and her faculties seemed to -sort o’ wake up, and she acted brighter than I had seen her act for -upwards of ten years. - -Well, supper wuz all ready when we got home. Fidelia had only -jest time to go to her room and pin a pink bow onto the bosom of -her dress, but I don’t know when I have seen her look so well. -Alcander noticed it in a minute. He looked quite admirin’ at her; -and though the steak might not have been so delicious as Fidelia’s, -yet her directions had been carried out, and it wuz good enough. -’Tennyrate, Alcander seemed to enjoy his supper the best that ever -wuz, for he and Fidelia wuz talkin’ together in a way I hadn’t -hearn ’em for years. And take Fidelia when she wuzn’t so wore out -burnin’ incense, and br’ilin’ steaks and chops and chickens, and -drawin’ threads out of fine linen and workin’ ’em in agin, she wuz -a smart woman and very agreeable companion. - -Minnie, I noticed, had retired more into the background, as it -were; she waited on the table with a different air, less as if she -wuz the mistress of ceremonies, and more as if she wuz the helper -instead of the giver of the feast. - -Well, it wuz on the fifth day, as Alcander and Fidelia and I -wuz a-drivin’ along through the soft air in the luxurious easy -carriage, behind two prancin’ horses, real happy and contented, and -talkin’ good-naturedly, who should we meet but two young folks in -a runabout? The young man wuz bendin’ fondly over the young woman, -so engrossed in conversation that they didn’t notice our presence -till we got almost up to them. Then they looked up, and we see that -it wuz Elinor and Louis Arnold. But wuz it Elinor? Yes, it wuz. But -what a change from the pale, hollow-eyed drawn-work stitcher! Her -cheeks were pink, and happiness sparkled in her soft blue eyes like -two bright stars becalmed in the June heavens. They had made up, -and Louis Arnold looked handsome and happy and contented. - -Well, I told Fidelia, the next day, that as Josiah had got his -business done, I guessed I wouldn’t stay any longer, and she bust -right out a-cryin’ onto my shoulder (it wuz a gray outin’-cloth, -and I knew that it would wash, so I didn’t care). - -And sez she, “My preserver, how can I have you go?” - -And Elinor, who wuz in the room, throwed herself onto my other -shoulder, and her tears drizzled down onto my shoulder-blade (but -agin the thought calmed me that the colors wuz fast). - -Sez Elinor, “You have preserved my happiness; you have dragged me -back from the very brinks of ruin.” - -“And me, too!” sez Fidelia. - -And I sez gently, extricatin’ myself from the four encirclin’ arms: -“Oh, shaw! you have preserved yourselves, and drawed yourselves -back by the cords of common-sense and mejumness. And now,” sez I, -in confidence, “ere we part, let me adjure you to cling to them two -strings, and cling hard. Use common-sense day by day, be good and -true to them you love, and be good and true to yourselves; brace -up, have gumption, and may Heaven bless you!” sez I, and I turned -away and begun to pack my nightgown and barred-muslin night-cap -into my satchel-bag. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Josiah wuz in a hurry to git home, but I persuaded him to stop for -a day at Dr. Phillip Rhode’s, who married she that wuz Dora Peak, -daughter of my cousin on my own side. - -I think everything of Dora and she of me, visey versey, for, if -I say it that shouldn’t, I helped her more’n considerable to her -present state of health, happiness, and common sense, and I spoze -mebby you’d like to know about it. It’s quite a long story, but I -can tell it if it’s best. It wuz about a year ago that Albina Peak, -Dora’s mother, come to Jonesville on a errent, a important one. - -I wuz standin’ before the winder washin’ my dishes and lookin’ out -on the great waves of pink and green that wuz spread out in front -of me (the orchard wuz in full bloom and promisin’ a grand fruit -year), and I seemed to sort o’ float away on them waves into the -past, layin’ firm holt of the present, too, and my clean linen -dish-cloth, as folks can in their most romantick moods, if they’ve -got any gumption--when all of a sudden Albina Ann Peak arrived. -We hadn’t seen each other much of late years, for she lived in -the city, but she wuz a third cousin of mine, and we used to go -to school together up in the old Rizley schoolhouse, and she sort -o’ leaned on me for strength and help in long division. She wuz -dretful romantick and dreamy in them days, and devoured pickles -and poetry enormously. But she sot store by me, and in the time of -trouble I spoze she thought on me and kinder wanted to lean agin, -her husband, who wuz a man of common sense and some property, -havin’ passed away some years before. - -Albina Ann said that the doctor said her daughter, Dora, couldn’t -possibly live only a few months unless she got help, and it wuz a -mysterious inward disorder she had, though the doctor had named -it a strange, strange name that seemed to scare Albina Ann most -to death, she couldn’t remember what it wuz, she said it sounded -some like Constantinople-Andronopolis, but wuzn’t that, but wuz -worse and more skairful, but I told her I shouldn’t let any -doctor’s names skair me, they didn’t make nothin’ of usin’ names -that wuz fearful. Then she told me that with all this sickness -wuz love-sickness added, and for a poor dissipated chap, but good -lookin’ and fascinating, and I said: - -“This is worse than Constantinople-Andronopolis enough sight.” - -And Albina sez, “That hain’t the name, but sounds like it.” - -And I sez, “Well, it is worse than anything that sounds like -anything.” - -And she sez, “Well, I want to have it broke up, it has got to be -broke up.” And she resoomed, “I’ve got to go and see my son Henry’s -wife, who is dyin’ with fever at Denver, with twins added to it, -and he sick abed, too.” And she sez, “It seems as if my troubles -all fall on me to once. Both my children liable to die off at any -time, and my daughter-in-law and the twins, too.” - -And I looked sympathizin’ on her and sez jest for all the world as -I used to at school, “I wish I could help you out, Albina Ann.” - -“That’s jest what I’ve come for,” sez she; “I’ve got to go to -Henry’s for a spell, anyway,” and would I for the sake of old -times, to say nothin’ of the ties of third cousin, would I let her -poor sick girl come down into the country and see if the country -air and my care would recuperate her up a little mite, or if she -couldn’t be helped, make the poor dear, dyin’ girl as comfortable -as I could? She said money wuz no object to her. And I said it -wuzn’t no object to me. And then she said she thought it wuz a -mysterious Providential affliction to have her beautiful only -daughter so delicate and liable to expire any minute, still she -felt that it wuz tough on her, and she bespoke my sympathy, jest -as she used to git help in her old Ruger and Olney’s gography. And -she asked me pintedly if I didn’t think it wuz a strange, strange -dispensation of Providence that when she wuz so abundantly able to -care for her only daughter, so many poor girls wuz spared healthy -and happy, and her only girl seemed about to be took, and sez she, -“She wuz a healthy baby, weighed ten pounds at first, but,” she -added, “she is so sweet and pure that probable the angels feel that -they can’t do without her society much longer.” - -And I sot up on the fence, mentally, as it were pretty straight, -and didn’t say yea or nay, knowin’ that many things wuz laid on -Providence He wuzn’t to blame for. - -Well, I told Albina Ann, after thinkin’ it over and consultin’ -Josiah out in the hoss barn, that she might send her girl down for -a spell and I’d do the best I could for her. She seemed to be real -relieved when I told her, and then bime-bye we got to talkin’ -about Le Flam agin, for that wuz the name of the dissipated young -chap she had mentioned, and I told her I approved of her stand, for -if a man couldn’t reform durin’ the enchanted days of courtship -what could you expect when married life and its disillusions should -take place, late dinners, cleanin’ house, etcetery, etcetery, and -inflamatory rumatiz, ulcerated teeth and colick? - -But I sez to Albina Ann, “Why under the sun did you let him come to -your house in the first place, if you knew what he wuz?” - -And she said she always knew that he wuz a poor, miserable -creature, but she felt that it would be breakin’ up the sweet, -heavenly atmosphere of confidence that had always existed between -her and her only daughter if she said anything against Le Flam to -her. - -“You hain’t spoke to her about him?” sez I, in wondering axents. - -“No, Cousin Samantha; her heart seems to be so wropped up in him, -and the cords that connect her soul to mine are so linked in with -her girlish dreams, that I could not bear to ruffle ’em, the -harmony between us has always been so heavenly.” - -Sez I, “The harmony would be liable to be ruffled a little if -you should see her abused by a dissipated brute, and she and -her children snaked round by the hair of their heads and turned -outdoors, etc.” - -“Oh! oh!” sez she, puttin’ up her hands, “don’t pierce my soul with -such agonizin’ thoughts!” - -“Well,” sez I, coolin’ down a little, “the best way to escape such -agony is to use common sense in the first place. Why under the sun -didn’t you stop her going with him?” - -“Oh, her sweet, tender heart seemed to be set upon him from the -first, and I couldn’t bear to break up those sweet dreams.” - -I begun to see where the land lay; I looked at Albina Ann sadly. -There she sot, a full grown woman, with a waist like a pipe stail -and shues with heels half a finger high, and tellin’ she dassent -warn her girl from the evil to come. - -But I didn’t say anything to add to her agitation, I simply -remarked, “Well, I never see the time that I wouldn’t pull Tirzah -Ann out of the fire, if I see her blindly blunderin’ into it, or -haul back Thomas J. from precipices. But we hain’t all made alike, -and our faces all on ’em are but the faces of clay.” - -I never meant to give her a cut no more than nothin’ in the world, -I wuz talkin’ Bible and feelin’ riz up. - -But I see her lift her lace handkerchief in her tight gloved hand, -and then I see, her veil bein’ up, that her color wuzn’t nateral -and the hull complexion made up. But, good land! I wuzn’t goin’ to -try to make over Albina Ann Peak, she’d been made too long--she -wuz about my age--but I told her she could send Dora down and I’d -do the best I could for her, and she kissed me good-by through her -veil (a white one with big, black dots). I thought no wonder Albina -Ann’s eyes has gin out, she wuz most as blind as a checkud adder. -Why, if you’ll believe it, she sot most all day with that veil over -her face. I spoze she thought it wuz becomin’ to her, but I should -jest as soon wore blinders. - -In about ten days Dora come, Josiah went after her with the -democrat and brought her and three trunks and some satchels. When -I see them trunks I felt dubersome, and mebby looked so, for -thinkses I, “Is it a life job I’ve tackled?” but in a minute I -thought, “Why, it’s in her bringin’ up; Albina Ann wuz always -changin’ her dress, and ornamentin’ herself, and actin’.” So I met -her with cheerfulness and kissed her on both cheeks, while Josiah, -a-groanin’, as I could hear, tackled the trunks. I see she wuz -naterally a pretty girl, but looked wan and wapeish, and I didn’t -wonder a mite at it when I took close note of the way she wuz -dressed. - -I had a warm supper ready, for I thought she would be tired and -hungry. But she couldn’t eat a mite, she said, not a mou’ful, but -I see she had a big empty candy box in her hand, and she owned up -that she’d eat it all on her journey. And bime-by she told me she -had had some pickled stuff that she had brung for an appetite, and -they wuz all eat up. - -Well, after she’d took her things off I see she wuz a sight to -behold. If her waist wuzn’t a cur’os’ty then I never see one. Why, -if I do say it, and I’m a Methodist in good standin’, it wuzn’t -much bigger than a quill--a goose quill; of course it wuz some -bigger, but it is within bounds to use it for a metafor. The heels -of her little pinted shoes wuz more’n two and a half inches high -and sot right in the palm of her foot, right on them nerves that -cause headache and blindness, and fits and things, and I knew by -the looks of them pinted toes that no human toes could possibly git -into ’em without bein’ all twisted up just like a heathen Chinee’s. - -Well, I declare I felt to weep almost when I looked at her. She -wuz so weak that I had to take her right up to her room and lay -her out on the bed. And I hefted her dress and skirts after I’d -helped her off with ’em, and of all the heft you ever see, why, it -wuz astonishin’. Her dress wuz tailor-made, and embroidered all -over with braid, and fitted her like a glove, but heavy as lead -almost, and jest a-draggin’ round her waist--not a shoulder strap, -nor a button or string or anything that she could divide the burden -with; no, them heavy skirts all a-hangin’ like millstuns round the -little, spindlin’ waist, and that so tight bound down by a hard -bone-and-steel cosset that it looked like a prisoner of the deepest -dye incarcerated in the closest confinement. I see when she lay -down, tired almost to death and a-gaspin’, that she didn’t remove -her cosset; no, there it wuz, a-holdin’ her in its deathly grip -right there on the bed, and I sez, “Don’t you take off your cosset -when you lay down?” - -“No,” sez she, kinder pantin’ for breath, “Mamma thinks it hurts -any one’s form so to lounge round with cossets off that she never -allowed me to take them off when I lay down in the daytime, and -Aggie le Fleur wears hers all night, so Mamma said, and she said -that she meant to have me wear mine all night when I got a little -stronger. Mamma sez that it injures one’s form terribly to go -without ’em even for an hour. It ruins anybody to go without ’em, -so Mamma said and so Aggie le Fleur sez.” - -“Is it possible,” sez I; “I never mistrusted before that I wuz -ruined, and I’ve gone without ’em since long enough before you -and that young Le Fleur woman you speak of wuz anywhere round or -thought on, and,” sez I, “if I wuz in your place I’d run the resk -of bein’ spilte, and take that thing offen me.” - -She wuz a sweet-dispositioned girl, I could see, and she consented, -and she sot up and exerted the hull of her strength, and finally -onhinged or onjinted it somewhere and peeled it offen her. And such -a sithe of relief she gin, as she sank down on the bed. I felt -dretfully to find out by a question or two that the cosset left -deep marks. But still I knew cryin’ and sympathy wuzn’t what she -needed; no, it wuz cast-iron firmness and common sense. So I took -up that instrument of agony some as if it wuz a snake and carried -it into the closet under the stairs, and hung it up and locked the -door, and sez I in a winnin’ way, “Now, my dear, you let that hang -there for a spell and see what will come of it.” - -She wuz horrified at the idee, I could see, but bein’ of such a -good disposition she crumpled down and bore it. - -Well, after Josiah and I eat (that man wouldn’t wait a minute for -the President) I got her a good wholesome supper and carried it up -into her room on a tray. I had a piece of the breast of a chicken -broiled and nice, some delicate toast, and sweet graham bread and -butter, and ripe strawberries, and a fragrant cup of coffee not too -strong, and plenty of cream. It wuz a good supper. I see she looked -disappointed in not havin’ rich cake and sweetmeats, but I talked -real cheerful to her about the relations and one thing and another, -and, though she said she couldn’t eat a mou’ful, yet she did -make out quite a meal. Well, after supper she put on a tea-gown, -a pretty, white affair, and some slippers, and come downstairs, -and I see, though mebby she didn’t think I did, how different she -breathed and how different she looked when she had her iron armor -off. She wuz a pretty girl, I see plain--just as pretty as a pink -rosy. - -Well, that first evenin’ about a quarter to nine she began to look -perter and sort of brightened up, and I told her so, and she sez, -“Yes, Aunt Samantha, this is the hour that mamma begins to help me -dress to go out.” - -“To go out!” sez I; “do you mean to the barn?” - -“Oh, no,” sez she; “to go to parties.” - -“To begin at nine o’clock to dress you to go to parties! Why, for -the land sakes, what time do you git home?” - -“Well, usually before mornin’,” sez she, “along about four.” - -“Along about four!” I gasped, “and you don’t git any sleep nights -until morning--till it is time to git up! For the land sakes!” sez -I. “What time do you gen’rally git up?” - -“Well, usually before noon,” sez she. - -“Before noon! Why,” sez I, “at noon all my work is done for the day -and I’m ready to sit down and rest, and you lose all them golden -hours, full of beauty, in bed.” - -“Well, Aunt Samantha,” sez she, wantin’ to please me I could see, -wantin’ to like a dog, “I’ve tried not going to bed at all, but -I’m not strong enough to go entirely without sleep.” - -“No, indeed!” sez I. “I should think not. Why, a ox hain’t strong -enough, let alone a delicate young girl like you.” - -“But,” sez she, liftin’ her sweet, innocent face to mine, “what can -I do, then, Aunt Samantha?” - -“Go to bed at the proper time,” sez I. And unconsciously, I spoze, -I put so much common sense into my axents that they sounded ha’sh; -she looked kinder skairt, and sez she: - -“But, Aunt Samantha, if I go into society I must do as the rest of -’em do.” - -Mekanically I lifted my eyes toward Heaven and sez, “Hain’t there -any society, then, but the society of fools and lunys? But even a -fool orter know that mornin’ is the time to git up instead of goin’ -to bed.” - -But she looked real kinder flustrated and helpless, so I desisted -from further remarks at that time, and at ten minutes to nine -precisely I got up and lighted our chamber lamps and Josiah wound -up the clock, and I sez, “Well, dear, I will go with you to your -room.” - -She looked at the clock and then at me with a look that a female -Hottentot might have if I wuz fastening on skates for her to dash -out on to a frozen lake. But she didn’t say anything. And I kinder -whispered to her on our way upstairs: “It would disturb your Uncle -Josiah for us to set up longer, and you try goin’ to bed early and -gettin’ up early for a spell and see what it will do for you,” sez -I encouragingly. “I believe it will be just the thing to put some -color into your white cheeks and some bright sparkles into your -eyes.” - -Well, she didn’t demur outwardly, but immediately begun to take her -hair down to brush it, and I laid my hand fondly on to them long, -golden waves that swep’ down below her waist, and sez I, “I want -you to be happy here, and to be happy one has to be healthy,” and I -repeated partly to myself and partly to her that invaluable bit of -advice: - - “Early to bed and early to rise - Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” - -And then I see that the toilet things wuz all right, plenty of -water and towels, and I looked at the little covered glass pitcher -with fresh drinking water in it, and see that there wuz matches and -candles, etc., and then sez I, “Is there anything else you would -like, my dear?” - -Well, she sort of hesitated and looked as if most afraid to ask, -and then sez, “Well, Aunt Samantha, if you’ve got a piece of mince -pie or fruit cake I would like to take a bite. I sometimes have a -sort of gnawin’ at my stomach, and Mamma always keeps something -rich baked up for me; she thinks it’s strengthening to me to eat -rich things, and she always brings up a plateful before I retire, -with some cheese, or pickles, or dried beef; I have got into the -habit of eating something of the kind, but I don’t like to make you -any trouble,” sez she. - -“Oh, no trouble at all,” sez I; “some folks can sleep better after -takin’ a bite.” And I went down into the buttery feelin’ mad as a -hen at Albina Ann and sorry as a dog for Dora. And I took a little -pink china bowl full of good night’s milk with a little cream in -it, and a slice or two of my good, sweet graham bread, and put ’em -on a little Japan tray with a pretty fringed tidy on it, and a -bright silver spoon, and when it was all fixed I took it up to her. - -Her face fell as she noticed the absence of pickles and pastry. But -she thanked me and eat a little of it, and it seemed to taste good, -and she finished the hull of it before she got through. And she put -on a pretty white nightgown and got into bed, and I bent down and -sort of tucked in the light white spread and patted the pillows, -and I sez, “You feel pretty good, don’t you?” - -And she smiled and sez, “Yes, mom.” But she looked real weak, and I -bent down and whispered to her: - -“You mustn’t forget, my dear, to ask the True Physician to help -you.” She lifted up her head and was just about to git out of -bed agin, and I sez, “You can ask Him right where you be, for He -don’t mind; what He minds is the true reverence of the soul--the -dependent call for help from them that need His care and who -believes He can help ’em.” - -“Yes, mom,” sez she; “I always say my prayers every night.” - -“Well,” sez I, “so do.” And I kissed her and couldn’t help it. I -wuz beginnin’ to like her the best that ever wuz. But jest as I wuz -leavin’ the room she looked up anxiously with her big blue eyes and -sez, “Oh, Aunt Samantha, won’t you close the window at the foot -of the bed and the one in the next room?” That wuz another little -bedroom that opened out of hers and I used it for a clothes-press. - -“Why,” sez I, “Honey, the wind couldn’t touch you at all if there -wuz any; your bed is out of the range on’t; but,” sez I, goin’ into -the next room and bringin’ out a big screen (one I made myself out -of the old ironin’ bars and some pretty cretonne), “here,” sez I, -“I’ll put this between your bed and the winder, and you couldn’t -git cold in a cyclone, much less in this sweet June air that comes -up fresh from the heart of Nater and brings a touch of her own -healin’ and rest with it.” - -But she looked frightened still, most as if she’d faint away, and -sez she, “Mamma told me special to have you cork the windows up -tight if there wuz any airholes round ’em.” - -“Cork ’em up,” sez I mekanically, “I would fur ruther oncork ’em,” -sez I, and I went on, “What is the reason for her desire for -corkin’?” - -“The night air is so deadly,” sez she; “Mamma is so much afraid of -it that she never has dared to let a breath of it come to me after -I wuz in bed.” - -“Why,” sez I reasonably, “what air could you breathe in the night, -only night air; and do you spoze,” sez I, “that the Lord would fix -things so as to have us breathe deadly pizen half of our time? Why, -you don’t have to go into algebra to figger it out; in the night -time you’ve got to breathe the night air; you can’t git any other, -and it stands to reason that you’d better breathe it fresh from the -hand that made it--good oxygen, etc., than to take it pizened with -all sorts of pizen risin’ from the prespirin’ skin, weak lungs and -stomach, coal gas, etc.” - -Well, agin her good disposition come in and fetched her through -this crisis. She settled down agin into the bed with a kind of a -patient sithe, though I could see that she wuz as afraid of that -air as if it wuz wild beasts ready to devour her, yet lookin’ some -relieved at the apple-blows and mornin’ glories that twined round -all over that screen as if they wuz some protection to her. - -I bent down and kissed her agin and she kissed me back, and I went -to bed. But I’ll bet I got up most a dozen times and went to her -door and listened, and once in a while I could hear her give a -kind of a low mourn or sithe. But I didn’t dast to let her know -that I wuz there for fear of wakin’ her clear up, and I spozed -goin’ to bed at such a different hour and so many new idees bein’ -promulgated to her would naterally upset her, but I kinder worried -about her all night. - -Well, in the mornin’ she wuz bed-sick--too sick to git up--and -I can’t say but what I did have a few reflections, mebby two or -three, thinkin’ of the night air and the corks I’d refused and the -quantities of air I’d let in. But yet I wuz held up a good deal by -duty and the thought that her weak feelin’s wuz probable caused -by reasons I’ve named and her journey in waist screws and heel -tortures, and then her sentimental feelin’s for Le Flam I spozed -helped it on some; but anyway and ’tennyrate, she looked like death -when I carried up her coffee and toast to her--not strong coffee, -but jest right, fresh, and fragrant and plenty of cream, and the -toast was delicate, brown, and crispy, and I took up a fresh egg -and a little china dish of strawberries. But she couldn’t eat a -mou’ful. And I wuz most skairt, she looked so white and tired, and -I sez to Josiah when I went downstairs: - -“You’ll have to go to Jonesville and git the doctor.” For I, not -knowin’ how much wuz sentiment and how much sickness, thought I’d -better be on the safe side and git a doctor, and owin’ to a feelin’ -that I couldn’t quite explain myself, it come to me so sort of -queer and sudden, “Git young Dr. Phillip,” sez I. You see, Dr. -Phillip Rhodes, father and son, wuz doctors, and folks called ’em -old Dr. Phillip and young Dr. Phillip. - -And Josiah sez, “You always have the old doctor, Samantha.” - -And I sez, “That don’t make any difference, Josiah; you get young -Dr. Phillip.” - -And I thought on’t after he went, I didn’t really know why I did -insist on havin’ him; I don’t really think that I’d planned out -anything in my own mind at that time, but I wuz kinder led to do -what I did. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Young Dr. Phillip Rhodes wuz a prime favorite of mine, and had -always been. He had as much goodness and common sense and smartness -about him as any young man I ever set eyes on. He wuz good lookin’, -too, with keen, dark eyes, kinder laughin’ and kinder sad eyes, -too, as if he see naterally on both sides of life--the bright -side and pathetic side. Tall, broad shouldered, manly lookin’, he -wuz, as nigh as I could make out from what I’d hearn, as near the -opposite of Dora’s bo as you could find. - -Well, young Dr. Phillip took her little slender white wrist in his -hand and counted her heart beats by his watch, and mebby he counted -’em by his own heart, too, for Dora did look sweet as a picter as -she lay there with her golden hair all kinder curly round her pale -face and her big violet-blue eyes, and the waves of white lace -about her neck comin’ up round her soft cheeks that wuz jest about -as white. - -Well, he left her some powders and some tablets and said he would -come agin the next day. And she lifted her soft, sad blue eyes to -hisen and looked so confidin’ and innocent and sweet at him that I -didn’t wonder it took him such a long time to fold up the powders -and why he seemed to linger round as if he wuz loth to go. - -But at last he did go downstairs, and I follered him, and he turned -round in the settin’ room and faced me, and in a honest way that -would be invaluable in a doctor if follered up, he sez: - -“What is really the matter with her, Aunt Samantha?” - -And I sez, “A lack of common sense in her mother, or that is what -started the trouble in the first place.” Sez I in a sort of a blind -way, “There is mebby other complications now that will have to be -tended to.” - -And I walked off into the buttery. I wuzn’t goin’ to mention Le -Flam to him, no, indeed! and when I come out I brung a plate of -cream cookies; he likes my cookies to a extraordinary degree, and -these wuz jest out of the oven, and he eat three, and then went -away with one in his hand. He appreciates good cookin’, yes, indeed! - -Well, the next mornin’ bright and early young Dr. Phillip wuz there -agin with a pink rose in his buttonhole (I never see that before), -and he made a long call, and so the next day, and the next, and the -next, and she a-gainin’ all the while and beginnin’ to talk real -bright and chipper to him, and the seventh young Dr. Phillip said -it would help her to ride out that very day, for the air wuz jest -exactly right. - -And I sez, “Well, I don’t know what I can do, for Josiah is away -with both horses.” - -And he sez dreamily, “Yes, I met him, but,” sez he, “as it happens -I took my low, easy phaeton this afternoon, and I can take her for -a short ride as well as not.” - -And I sez, “Won’t to-morrow do?” - -And he sez, “No, for to-day the air is jest exactly right.” - -And I, not wantin’ to hurt her, fell in with the idee, and I see -she wanted to go. - -Now, if I hadn’t trusted him jest as firm as I would any old -deacon or pastor I wouldn’t hearn to the idee, but I did trust him -implicitly, and so I agreed to it. - -And when he brung her back, she with a pretty light in her eyes and -a soft color on the white cheeks, he sez: - -“As it happens I have got to go up the mountain in the morning a -few miles, and I will take Miss Dora out again if you think best.” - -And I sez, “Josiah can take her.” - -And he sez, “No, Uncle Josiah is busy; don’t bother him.” - -“Well,” sez I, kinder laughin’ in the inside of my sleeves, -“doctors are most always busy.” - -And he sez again, “I have got to go up there, and mountain air is -jest what she needs.” - -Well, in a few days he said she needed lake air. And when I begun -to plan how to git her to it he said it happened jest so that he -had got to go down on the lake shore a few milds off, and he could -take her jest as well as not, and she seemed glad to go--glad -enough; and every single day she seemed to feel better and look -better. Early hours to bed and to rise, fresh, pure air, wholesome, -nutritious food, and easy, loose clothin’ had all done their -healin’ work on her. Why, I had let out her pretty muslin dresses -most half a finger under the arms, and she dast as well die as to -girt herself in agin, my eye wuz that keen on her and yet lovin’. -And I went to Jonesville myself and picked her out a pair of common -sense shoes, but pretty ones, russet color; why, good land! she -didn’t wear but number three, anyway--they wuz plenty big enough, -and I admitted it. And I spoze her freedom from foot sufferin’ -helped her a great sight, and her winder wuz always open nights. -She had got to likin’ me too well to not do as I said, and when she -see me calmly carryin’ the pickle jar down suller and put a stun on -it, she knew that ended pickles; and when she asked Josiah to git -her some candy and I calmly took it and eat it up myself, makin’ -me dead sick, but doin’ it cheerful in a martyr way, she didn’t -ask him agin to git her anything sarahuptishously, and it wuzn’t -long before her well stomach didn’t crave such trash--rich cake and -pickles and pies and such. And she begun to git so plump that she -laughed and said I would have to let out her dresses agin. - -And I did before she went home--more than a inch on both sides--and -her cheeks got pinker and her eyes got brighter and brighter, and I -didn’t wonder a mite that the kinds of air she had to ride out to -take wuz so various and lay in such different directions, and young -Dr. Phillip wuz so willin’ to take her to ’em. - -Well, Dora had wanted to surprise her mother when she come to see -her so much better, so we hadn’t said nothin’ in our letters about -the great improvement and change in her, and the very day that -Dr. Phillip and she went out on a two milds walk, two out and two -in, I got a letter from Albina Ann sayin’ she had seen a new kind -of invalid chair and askin’ me to ask the doctor if he thought it -would be a benefit to Dora, and sez she: - -“Your evasive remarks about my poor dear invalid makes me fear that -I shall never see her agin, and,” sez she, “I drempt last night of -attendin’ a funeral, and I lay for more than an hour planning the -funeral when she is took from me, I picked out the text ‘Strange -are the mysterious ways of Providence,’ and,” sez she, “I wet two -handkerchiefs wet as sop with my tears right there in the middle of -the night.” - -Oh, Albina Ann thought enough of her, I could see that, and kep’ -her in her mind day and night. And the day I let her dress out for -the second time, that wuz the time she went out with her Uncle -Josiah to help rake the meadow and come in laughin’ and rosy on top -of the load jest as Dr. Phillip drove into the yard, makin’ her -face look rosier than ever. - -Well, that day Albina Ann writ to me agin, and sez she, “I write -to you, for I know that Dora is too feeble to write to me, and I -want you to tell me, and tell me plain, if you think she is going -to live until fall, for I must, if she is in immediate danger, I -must leave Henry and his wife and the twins, sick as they be, for I -must, I must see my darling, my idol! once more.” - -Well, I writ her a sort of a comfortin’ letter, that would settle -her mind some and stiddy it; all the while I wuz writin’ I wuz -hearin’ Dora’s ringin’ laugh out in the front yard, where Dr. -Phillip and she stood a-talkin’ and laughin’ with my companion. - -Well, Dr. Phillip wuz here about every day, and it wuz plain enough -to see what wuz in his mind; he had never paid any attention to a -girl before in his life as I ever hearn on, and if I wuz any judge -of girls (and I fancy I am a splendid judge) Dora wuz jest as fond -of him as he wuz of her. Le Flam, that poor dissipated chap, I felt -had only stood in the vestibule of her fancy, but Dr. Phillip I -believed had opened the door to her heart and walked in there to -stay. - -Well, I felt that all I had to do wuz to set down and trust -the Lord; that’s all we can do after we’ve done all we can do -ourselves. Let mothers take this great truth into consideration and -consider on it; surround your young girls with good society, and -when I say good I don’t mean necessarily rich, but good, honest, -and reliable, then you can set down in your chair and rest, knowin’ -that whatever is the Lord’s will to happen won’t bring grief and -shame to your heart. If it is His will to have your girl a bachelor -maid, thank God and take courage, if it is His will to have her -unite her fate to a companion, why accept it as His will and make -the best on’t, but ’tennyrate and anyway, don’t, don’t let her -marry a shack, and to insure that don’t let a shack come hangin’ -round. - -Well, everything seemed to be goin’ as I wanted it to go. -Considerin’ the Le Flam eppisode, I couldn’t act exactly as I -would if I had took her fresh from the cradle. In them latter -circumstances I would impress agin and agin on a girl’s mind -how many avenoos there wuz to walk in besides the matrimonial -one--broad, glorious avenoos full of helpful and grand -possibilities. But the Le Flam eppisode had hampered me, and so, -as I say, everything seemed to be goin’ as I wanted it to. And yet -anon or oftener I had a feelin’ that if Dora couldn’t be broke for -good of her foolish ways--foolishness nurtured and fostered by -Albina Ann--I didn’t want Dr. Phillip’s life spilte. And then agin -a good deal of the time I noticed her sweet disposition and put a -long white mark on that; her readiness to fall into better ways, -when she found ’em out--another long white mark. - -As for his likin’ for her, I felt that I needn’t mark that, for he -had done it himself. And if she didn’t know as much as Sappho or -Aspasia, that I’ve hearn Thomas J. read about, I knew men never -cared any too much about that, and as for Miss Sappho and Miss -Aspasia, I never thought any too much of either on ’em, from what -I’d hearn; Miss Sappho, with all her smartness, drownded herself; -and as for Miss Aspasia, there is sights of talk about her and -always wuz. - -And then I felt a good deal of the time that Dr. Phillip had -smartness enough for ’em both, and Dora wuz nobody’s fool, and I -felt that the sun of his strength and love would bring out the -colors in her mind and soul jest as the sunlight changes a poor -suller kep’ house-plant in the spring of the year. - -Well, anyway and ’tennyrate, I had to let it go on. I jest had -to, for the stream wuz gittin’ too deep for me to ford or dam -(metafor), I meant the stream of deep, pure love that wuz a-flowin’ -round Dora and bearin’ her on its deep bosom into happiness, as I -trusted and felt, I felt it had got to bear her where it wanted to. - -Well, one day Dora and Dr. Phillip had gone up the mountain road, -the air wuz balmy as if it blowed off a bed of balm, and I had -seen the happy pair set off under the mornin’ sun lookin’ fresh -and bright almost as that luminary itself, only of course not so -dazzlin’. - -And my Josiah had gone into the wood lot after a load of stove -wood, and I’d put on a clean gingham dress and sot there in my -clean kitchen alone in all my glory, same as Solomon did, or the -Queen of Sheba, I’ve most forgot which one on ’em it wuz, when I -hearn a rap on the door and I went and opened it, and there stood a -chap that I knew by the first look on him wuz Le Flam. He had that -same look on him, sort o’ dissipated and yet kinder stylish and -handsome, that I felt certain could belong to no other. - -I invited him in and sot him a chair, for I felt that he wuz -a-goin’ to have a bad enough time without standin’ up, and he sez -most the first thing: - -“I want to see my affianced.” - -And I sez, “Nobody by that name is here or been here.” - -Sez he, “My betrothed.” - -And then I sez, “I don’t somehow seem to recognize the name.” - -And he yelled up a little, “The girl I’m engaged to, Miss Dora -Peak; or that is,” sez he, “I’ve considered it the same as an -engagement, though perhaps it hasn’t quite reached that point.” - -“Oh,” sez I, “you mean Dora; well, she is not here jest now.” - -“And,” he sez, his red face growin’ redder and his kinder bloodshot -eyes dartin’ angry gleams, “I have heard all about your treacherous -conduct, and I’ve come to settle with you.” - -“You have, have you!” sez I, and I turned over the sock I wuz -a-mendin’ and attackted it in a new place. - -“Yes,” sez he, “I’ve heard how you have encouraged the attentions -of another man to the girl I wuz as good as engaged to, the girl I -have paid attention to for years.” - -Sez I calmly, a-lookin’ him over as if he wuz a banty rooster, -“Have you paid attention to her exclusively?” - -“I have never paid attention to another lady!” he yelled in quite a -loud voice and shrill. - -“Mebby not,” sez I, and I went on, “Dora can do as she pleases, but -if I wuz a young girl,” sez I, “I wouldn’t accept the attentions -of a man who divided his attentions between me and saloons, -gamblin’ halls and horse races,” sez I. - -“What do you mean?” he yelled out. - -“Jest what I say,” sez I, a-gittin’ up and puttin’ in another -stick of wood and a-seatin’ myself some nigher the wood-box, for I -didn’t know what he might be led to do, for I could see as plain as -anything that he wuzn’t quite himself, and you never can calculate -what such a man may take it into his head to do. But I felt -considerable easy when I had a good stout birch stick of wood right -at hand, not that I wuz really ’fraid on him: dissipation had told -on him so he looked considerable tottlin’ and shaky under all the -outside veneer of fashion he’d put on; but how can you tell what a -poor, miserable tike will take into his head? Why, dissipation jest -onhinges all the moral and spiritual graces, all the manliness and -self-respect and will-power, and jest lets ’em all tottle down into -ruin, and I don’t believe he had many graces to onjint in the first -place. - -“What do you mean?” sez he, lookin’ meachin’, meachin’ as a dog. - -“Why,” sez I, a-feelin’ it my bounden duty to stand between Dora -and trouble, “I mean that it is a shame and a disgrace for such a -man as you are to even talk of takin’ a sweet, innocent young girl -into a life like yours.” - -“She fills my heart,” sez he, “and my life, and has for years.” - -“Not full!” sez I, lookin’ at him keenly, “not full! If she did -her sweet image would have banished the other vile inmates that -have abounded there--wicked companions, evil ways of all kinds. -What room is there in that black crew for an innocent young life -like Dora’s? Have you got the heart,” sez I, “to try to entice that -young girl into such a life as you know the wife of a dissipated -man must lead--into woe and wretchedness, and an early grave, most -likely?” - -“I would reform,” sez he; “I would become a different man for her -sake.” - -“Why haven’t you, then?” sez I. “Why haven’t you reformed in all -these years when you wuz on probation, as you may say, a-tryin’ to -win her love? Do you think that you’d do better when you wuz sure -of her and she wuz in your power? Now,” sez I, “I don’t want to be -hash to you, and I don’t want to hender you from singin’ that - - ‘While the lamp holds out to burn - The vilest sinner may return,’ - -but I don’t want you to sing it here; I want you to go away and let -Dora alone.” - -“I never will,” sez he. - -“Well,” sez I, “I will see about that;” and I got up and went to -the back door and called out loud: “Josiah, I want you and Ury to -come right here!” - -Well, my conscience has twitted me about that performance more’n a -hundred times sence, if it has once. But, then, I would kinder argy -back, when I would git all wore out with that conscience a-proddin’ -me, I did want Josiah to come that very minute, and I would have -liked to see Ury step in, there hain’t a doubt on’t. And what of -it, what if Ury wuz to Three Mile Bay for a load of spruce; and -what if Josiah Allen wuz two milds and a half away in our wood-lot, -I wanted ’em, there hain’t a doubt of that, and I didn’t lie. - -And I spoze I might jest as well tell it right here as anywhere, -Josiah has told it more than twenty times in one day by the clock: -he sez, and I believe it implicitly, he had jest driv into the -woods and had commenced to load the wood in when he sez he hearn -me say: “Josiah, I want you.” And he sez there wuz in my voice a -certain ring of urgent need and anxiety that made him turn the team -right round and come home on the gallop, and consequently he met -Le Flam down by the big butnut tree. For after I called to them -men, for all the world jest as if they wuz inside the barn door, -Le Flam turned on to his heel and went off without biddin’ me -“good-by,” or “good-day,” or anythin’. He yanked the lines offen -the post (he had hitched by the lines--didn’t know any more--and I -spoze he broke sunthin’, somehow, for he seemed to be foolin’ round -with the harness for quite a spell; I spoze his hands wuz clumsy -and helpless owin’ to his state), and so, as I say, Josiah come -a-gallopin’ ’long, and past him down by the butnut tree. - -Well, to me that little eppisode always went to show how close the -ties be unitin’ two true hearts, and how queer and curious the -atmosphere is that surrounds ’em. My voice in need reached the ear -that Love had attuned to hear it. Strange, strange is the mysteries -of pardners. I’ve always said it and I always will: strange is the -pathway on which their sperits can go back and forth and meet each -other. It made me feel queer and riz up. - -But Josiah looks at it different; he thinks that it wuz my nateral -voice that he hearn, and sez he: “Samantha, I always told you that -I could hear you two or three milds away, and now I’ve proved it: -your voice is shrill,” sez he, “and you don’t realize how loud you -holler.” - -“Why didn’t Ury hear me?” sez I scornfully. - -“Oh, there is a limit to the shrillest voice. You couldn’t expect -to talk back and forth with folks clear to the Klondyke.” - -Well, there wuzn’t no use argyin’, and he has throwed that eppisode -in my face ever sence, and I spoze he always will. - -But good land, I don’t care; I know that we got rid of Le Flam -for good and all, for he didn’t make much of any move after that -eppisode of advice and warnin’ to him. I guess he did write to Dora -once or twice, but she never noticed his letters, and it wuzn’t but -a few months before he married a rich widder. - -Well, it wuz on a bright September day that Albina Ann come to -Jonesville, after Dora had had only three months, mind you, of -common-sense treatment and reasonable livin’, and I wish that you -could have seen her face as it rested on Dora’s for the first -time. You see, she come in dretful pimpin’ and pensive lookin’, -for Henry’s wife had had a siege and Albina Ann had nursed her -faithfully, and Henry, too, and the twins, and they wuz all -a-pullin’ through. - -But bad and wore out as Albina Ann felt, she didn’t feel too bad to -have that white dotted veil over her made-up face, and her dress -tight as tight could be, and sot up on wobblin’ heels half a finger -from the ground a-pitchin’ her kinder forwards. I pitied her. And -her first words was, “She is alive, hain’t she? Do tell me so! -Is she in the spare bedroom? Oh,” sez she, “to come from one bed -of sickness to another!” and she sithed and kinder groaned, and -started for the chamber stairs. - -Sez I, “She has gone out for a ride.” - -“For a ride!” sez she in amaze, “then she can’t be in immediate -danger,” and then she sez, “Oh, how I have dreaded to come from -the almost dying bed of my dear ones in Denver to the sick bed of -another.” - -“Well,” sez I, “Dora hain’t bed-sick,” and, sez I, “you’ll see her -in a minute, for I hearn ’em at the gate.” - -Well, when that plump, rosy-cheeked girl, with sparkling, laughing -eyes, bounded into the room (her Uncle Josiah had told her that -her Ma had come) and threw her arms round her neck and kissed her, -you could have knocked Albina Ann over with a pin-feather. I felt -conscience-struck, and as if I’d ort to told her. Her face turned -ghastly pale under the false color, and she looked at Dora and then -at me in a stunted, dumfoundered, helpless way, pitiful in the -extreme, that most made me ’fraid that she had lost her faculty. -But pretty soon she gradually brightened up into a happy, blissful -look, and her nateral color returned, and how she did hug and -embrace Dora, and she sez to me in a solemn way, “It is a mericle, -Samantha!” - -“No,” sez I, “no mericle, only a triumph of common sense and -common-sense remedies--pure air, early hours, wholesome food, etc., -etc.” - -And then she noticed her dress, I see--the absence of cosset, the -common-sense shoes. But she never lisped a word aginst it, and -hain’t to this day, so fur as I know. The shock had been too great: -she had seen the dead raised to life, as it were, and it had shook -a little common sense and gumption into her. I ketched her myself -the next mornin’ a-lettin’ out her travelin’ dress, and she let her -cosset out some. I have some hopes of her. - -Well, to resoom backwards a spell. Dr. Phillip come in with my -pardner, and when Albina Ann see that splendid, noble lookin’ young -man, and comprehended how and what it wuz, and that Le Flam wuz -only a dark shadder in the past and wouldn’t shade Dora’s future -agin, agin she sez to me in them solemn axents out on the back -stoop, “Another mericle, Samantha?” - -And I sez, “No such thing, Albina Ann; nothing only another -triumph of common sense. Do you remember what I said to you about -surroundin’ young girls with good society?” And I felt so well that -I went on and eppisoded a little right there. - -Sez I, “When you let a cat into a cream-dairy what do you expect, -or a dog into a bone factory? Will the cat pay any attention to the -catechism, or the dog to the doxology? No; you can’t expect them -to change their naters all of a sudden. So with young folks: throw -young hearts together in the springtime with no warnin’; what is -the result? Why, the trees and flowers and everything bloom out -under the sun of spring, and young hearts stand ready to blossom -out under the sun of love, and you ort to be careful, careful as to -the material you surround ’em with.” - -But I see she wuzn’t payin’ the attention she ort to, and agin I -see her look at Dr. Phillip proudly and happily, and she murmured -agin, “It is a mericle, a mericle!” - -And I sez agin, bein’ brung down from the mount of eloquence on to -the plain of common sense, “It hain’t no such thing: it is nothin’ -but siftin’ good wheat from bad and usin’ a little plain horse -sense.” - -Well, Albina Ann wuz always contrary; she’s never gin in, nor I -nuther. She always to this day contends that it wuz a mericle, and -sez she gives Providence all the praise for the hull performance, -which of course I want her to do, and still---- - -Well, if I hadn’t acted out what I believed wuz the will of -Providence she would have come out pretty slim. - -Dora and Dr. Phillip wuz married ’long the next winter, and I went -to the weddin’, proud as a peacock of the bright, healthy, happy -looks of the bride--sweet as a rose, too, she looked under her -white veil. And they have settled down in Loontown, in a pretty -cream-colored cottage nigh the old doctor’s. And everybody sez they -are the very happiest couple in Loontown. - -She knows enough! And he jest worships her, and she him, and they -both set store by me, sights of store. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -For about two years there has been great doin’s in Hamen Smith’s -family, owin’ to Tamer Ann’s wantin’ to make Anna marry a young -old chap who come down from New York village to look at some -grave-stuns in the buryin’ ground by the old Dutch Reform Church up -in Zoar. - -There wuz some dretful aged stuns there with old Dutch names on -’em, and the young old feller wuz in hopes he would find some -ancestors there. He had piles and piles of ’em before he begun to -hunt there, enough for comfort and more, too, but he wanted some -more, so sure it is that the more you have the more you want. - -And so he come down a purpose. He didn’t find any ancestors, but he -found Anna. And he jest stayed along and stayed along. He had only -got board at the tarven for two days, but he stayed seven weeks -that time and come down agin frequent after that, and the next -summer spent the hull of his summer there. - -Anna wuz engaged to Tom Willis, a good lookin’ and good actin’ -young chap, and Tamer Ann had never lifted her finger or said a -word to stop their intimacy or engagement. But when this old young -feller come she jest commanded Anna to not think of Tom Willis any -more, and ordered her to be polite and sociable with this young old -man. Curious how some mothers can act, ain’t it now? - -I liked Tom Willis. He wuz studyin’ law under Thomas Jefferson, he -had been under him for several years now, and Thomas J. thought -everything of him, and said he wuz bound to make his mark in the -world. Yes, I liked Tom and Tom liked me. But I had never seen the -old young man till the day we went there a-visitin’, bein’ invited -special by Tamer. - -It wuz a pleasant drive over there, and I got up middlin’ early and -got a good breakfast, a very good one, knowin’ that my Josiah’s -demeanor for the day depended a good deal on it. And I wanted his -liniment to be smooth and placid, for nothin’ gauls a woman more -than to have her companion kinder snappish to her when she takes -him out in company. She knows the wimmen are all comparin’ his -liniment with their own husband’s liniments, and she wants him to -show off to good advantage. She has a pride in it. - -So I cooked, in addition to my other vittles, a young tender -chicken, briled it, and had some nice warm biscuit, and some -coffee, rich, yellow, and fragrant, with lots of good cream in it. -And I had other good things accordin’. I did well, and Josiah’s -liniment paid me; all the way to Hamenses his mean wuz like a babes -for softness and reposeful sweetness. He twice murmured words -of affection into my right ear, he sez, “Dear Samantha,” twice, -such wuz the stimulatin’ and softenin’ effects of that coffee and -broiled fowl. Oh! if female wimmen would only heed these words of -warnin’ and caution from their sincere friend and well wisher. If -they would only spend the strength they take to try to convince -their pardners that it is onmanly to snap ’em up and be fraxious -and puggecky to ’em, especially before folks and other wimmen, if -they would only spend this time in preparin’ food, if they would -only accept the great fact that men’s naters are made jest as they -be, and the effect of food on their naters is jest what it is, if -they would only accept these two great philosofical facts, and not -argue and contend and try to understand why it is so, or how, or is -it reasonable that it should be so, or anything about it. Simply -accept it, dear married sisters, and guide them gently on by this -safe and assured way. It will not fail you, no, Samantha has tried -it in the balances and has never yet found it wantin, for twenty -years and more that has been my safe weepon and my refuge in times -of trouble. - -I know that I have repeated these words of advice and warnin’ anon -or oftener, but it is only because I have such a tender feelin’ for -my sister wimmen who are placed in the tryin’ position of pardners. -And I want ’em, oh, how I want ’em! to do the best they can with -what they have to do with. But I am eppisodin’, and to resoom. - -We sot out for Hamenses about half-past ten on that pleasant -mornin’. All over the dooryard and about the house hung the soft -silence of the early mornin’. The birds wuz singin’ in the lilock -bushes by the clean doorstep. The branches of the trees hung low -down in the orchard. The sunshine lay in the dooryard in golden -patches flecking the green grass between the shade trees and on the -clean painted doorway and the winders. And I knew and Josiah knew -that we shouldn’t see no such sunshine agin till we see this same -light shinin’ in our dooryard and the white curtained winders of -home. - -Well, we had a pleasant drive, with no eventful events to disturb -it till we got near to Hamenses house at about a quarter to twelve. -As we wuz a-goin’ down the hill pretty clost to his house I -methought I hearn sunthin’ wrong, a rattlin’ sound amongst the -iron framework of our conveyance, and I mentioned the fact to -my pardner. He then intimated that I had frequently called his -attentions to similar things on similar occasions (he didn’t word -it in this way, no, it wuz a shorter way and fur terser). - -But I knew I wuz in the right on’t, and begged him to git out and -see about it. But he vowed he wouldn’t git out, he even made a oath -to confirm it. “Dum” wuz the word he used to confirm the fact that -he would not git out. But the very next minute one of the wheels -come off, and he did git out. Yes, he got out, and I did, too. He -got out first, and I kinder got out after him. It wuz sudden! - -Everything seemed sort o’ mixed up and sick to the stomach to me -for quite a spell. But when conscientiousness returned I found -myself layin’ there right in my tracts, and what made it more -curious and coincidin’ I had a bundle of tracts that her old -pasture, Elder Minkley, had sent to Tamer Ann. He worried over her -readin’ dime novels so much, and he had sent her these tracts, “The -Truthful Mother and Child; or, The Liar’s Doom,” and one wuz, “The -Novel Reader’s Fate; or, The Crazed Parent.” - -Well, I lay there feelin’ curious, Josiah tryin’ to keep the horse -from tromplin’ on me, and he wuz, I could see, agitated in the -extreme about me, though I had said faintly from where I lay: - -“I hain’t killed, Josiah,” and, as he seemed by his looks to doubt -my assurance and mourn for me as lost, I sez agin: - -“I am not dead, Josiah,” and I added in faint axents, “Have I bent -my bunnet much?” - -And he sez, “Dum the bunnet!” And I didn’t blame him a mite when -I come to think it over. How sure it is that sudden reverses of -fortune brings out the flower of love in full bloom! As I lay there -kinder stunted I felt that I loved my companion and wuz well aware -how he worshipped me. - -I spoze my remark about the bunnet had took the edge off from his -anxiety, and he felt that I wuz alive and considerable comfortable. -And at that very minute the mair, bein’ hit on the heel by the -thill Josiah wuz liftin’ up, kicked up both of the hind ones -(heels) and sot off back to Jonesville, my pardner runnin’ after -her as he still had holt of the lines. As I said I laid there -feelin’ dretful curious, for I couldn’t for my life git up, I spoze -I wuz stunted by my fall. - -But as I looked back the way we had come and beheld my pardner -disappearin’ round the bend of the road in the wake of the mair, -I see comin’ towards me from that direction a queer lookin’ tall -chap with long, small limbs and a high collor and cane, and, as he -approached me, he stopped and looked down on me through a eyeglass -that hung round his neck, in a queer way, though polite, and sez he: - -“You got out sudden, you know.” - -“Yes, I know it,” sez I faintly, “but if I had a little help I -could git up agin.” - -But he didn’t offer to help me. He looked at me through that -eyeglass and sez he, holdin’ tight to his cane and kinder jabbin’ -it into his mouth now and then: - -“You fwightened me, you know; I pwespiah now from fwight.” - -[Illustration: THE MAIR SOT OFF BACK TO JONESVILLE, MY PARDNER -RUNNIN’ AFTER HER, AS HE STILL HAD HOLT OF THE LINES. - - _Page 110._] - -“From what?” sez I. - -“Fwom feah, you know; feah.” - -“Oh,” sez I. - -Agin he jabbed that cane of hisen into his mouth, and sez he, not -offerin’ to help me a mite, but standin’ off and eyin’ me like a -one-eyed owl: “Are you shuah you have not sustained any sewious -injuwy?” - -“Yes,” sez I, “I hain’t hurt much, I could git up if I had a little -mite of help.” - -“Youh fouh ahm now, can you waise it?” - -I reached out my arm, feelin’ considerable like a horse, or -mebby it would be more proper if I should say I felt some like -the old mair, she had sunthin’ the matter with her fetlock. And -he continued as he stood there with all the willowy grace of a -telegraph pole, and as tall as one, so it seemed to me: - -“Do you feel any pain like basilah menigitis, you know? Do you feel -any uneasiness in youah pewicardium?” - -Follerin’ his train of idees almost onbeknown to myself, I sez -faintly, “I never knew till this minute that I had one, but I guess -it is pretty middlin’ comfortable; I am obleeged to you.” - -“Oh, I feel welieved if you haven’t injured youah pewicardium, for -that would have been almost suah to bwing on basilah menigitis.” - -I give up that I wouldn’t git no help from him, and I sez, “If you -would just go to that house ahead and tell Hamen Smith’s folks that -I have come I would be glad.” - -I did it partly to git help and partly to git him out of my sight, -he did look so dog queer standin’ there gnawin’ at that cane of -hisen, with his stiff collar holdin’ up his ears, and his clothes -that tight that I spozed mebby that wuz one reason he didn’t offer -to help me up, the other reason bein’ that he didn’t know enough. -But, truly, it would have been a rash and hazardous proceedin’ on -his part to bend over much, and I didn’t promulgate any desire for -his help after I took a minute’s thought about it. But when I spoke -of Hamenses he sez, “I am going there.” - -“Are you?” sez I. “Then mebby they will want to see you right off. -I’d go on if I wuz in your place and tell them that I have come.” - -“Yes, I will go,” sez he. He seemed good natured enough what there -wuz of him (his mind, I mean). And he started off lookin’ like a -tall, slim fork walkin’ away. But he turned before he’d gone more’n -a step or two and come back, and sez he: - -“Youah shuah now?” - -“Sure of what?” sez I. - -“Shuah you have not sustained any sewious injuwia?” - -“Yes! yes!” sez I, gittin’ wore out. “And I’d like a little help to -git up; I wish you would hurry.” - -And then he went on a few more steps and come back agin, and I sez, -“For the land’s sake! What do you want now?” - -“Youah cahd, you know, you haven’t pwesented me with youah cahd.” - -Sez I with dignity, or as much as I could have layin’ most flat in -the middle of the road, “This is a pretty place to talk of playin’ -cards or any other game, I settin’ flat down here in the road and -can’t git up. You had better start on to once and git away from -me,” sez I, “and tell Hamenses folks I’ve come.” - -“I haven’t the pleasuah of knowin’ youah name,” sez he, lookin’ -sort of pale round the mouth, and his eyes lookin’ big and round. I -spoze I skairt him some by my lofty mean (lofty under difficulties). - -“I couldn’t tell, youah know, who had come, youah know.” - -“That is so,” sez I, “I forgot. Tell ’em that Josiah Allen’s wife -has come.” - -“Oh, Josiah Allen’s wife, I have the gweatest pleasuah in meeting -you. I have heard of youah, youah know.” And he took off his hat -and bowed low to me. I sithed, for I believed then and believe now -he would have stood there for an hour holdin’ his hat in his hand -and bowin’ to me and actin’, and he looked more’n a mile high, too, -I a-settin’ there helpless. But I looked at him that witherin’ that -he turned agin and hurried off as fast as his long legs would carry -him. - -He hadn’t got more’n a few steps away before a light buggy come -rollin’ on swift, and who should it be but Tom Willis goin’ on some -law bizness for Thomas J. up beyend Zoar. How curious things will -turn out, now this wuz jest as curious as it wuz for Crusoe to -discover Friday. - -I guess I didn’t have to talk to Tom Willis about his helpin’ me. -No, he flung the lines to the boy who wuz with him, and he wuz out -of that buggy and by my side in less than a minute. And it wuzn’t -a minute more when he jest lifted me right up and held me for a -minute or so, for I wuz giddy and sort o’ stunted, and then he -helped me into his buggy and we drove on to Hamenses and got there -long enough before that long legged chap had arrived. He couldn’t -walk fast, so he told me afterwards, on account of his “pespiwin,” -and then he had “dwopped” his cane, “you know.” And I could see -for myself jest what a time he had had pickin’ it up. For the -land’s sake! I don’t see how he ever done it, and so I told Josiah. - -But, anyway, Tom Willis took me out of the buggy jest as tender and -careful as if I had been his own Ma, and, leanin’ on his strong -arm, I arrived at Hamenses door and went in, Tom leavin’ me at the -doorsteps and not goin’ in, for reasons to be named hereafter. But -as I stood on the front stoop, and Tom turned to go away, I see a -red, red rose come a-circlin’ through the air from right over our -heads and fall at Tom’s feet, and he took it up and kissed it, for -I see him, and put it in his bosom. And then he turned and looked -up into a window overhead, and no light of the mornin’ sun breakin’ -through a cloud wuz ever brighter or more luminous than the glance -and smile he gin to somebody overhead. But it wuz all done in a -minute, and Tom wuz gone, and in a minute more Anna Smith wuz in -my arms, with both her sweet young arms round my neck and her soft -pink cheeks pressed clost to mine. I think enough of Anna Smith, -and she thinks enough of me. - -Well, Hamenses wife come runnin’ in dretful glad to see me, she wuz -in the back kitchen givin’ orders to her hired girl, Arabeller, and -Hamen come in, too, real cordial actin’, he wuz in the back yard -at work, and Jack come boundin’ in and most eat me up, he wuz so -glad to see me. And bimeby Cicero come in with his fingers between -the pages of a dime novel, and shook hands with me in a absent -mekanical way, but he didn’t seem to sense my bein’ there much -of any, and what he did sense didn’t seem to be an overagreeable -feelin’, real cool and indifferent he acted. I guess Tamer noticed -it, for she spoke up and said: - -“Cicero wuz such a reader, he had such a great taste for books and -literatoor, he wuz so much like his Ma.” And then she patted him -on his head, but he didn’t seem to mind that any, he wuz fairly -bound up in his book, it wuz “The Brave Bold Young Bandit; or, -The Farmer Fool Outwitted.” It had a yeller cover and painted on -it wuz a innocent lookin’ young farmer boy, kneelin’ at the feet -of a bandit boy with bold flashin’ eyes, embroidered uniform and -tall feathers in his hat. I looked at it when he laid it down for -a minute that day, and I see that it would be real instructive in -learnin’ a boy to despise honest labor and heart merit, and honor -dashing wickedness and crime. He had a cigarette in his hand when -he met me, and he had one in his hand or his mouth every time I see -him almost while we wuz there. - -Well, to resoom backwards a little. Josiah come in in about haif -an hour. The mair had started back straight for home. That mair -has a constant heart under her white hide, and she’d left children -there and grandchildren, I didn’t blame the mair, though I pitied -my poor Josiah, he wuz beat out. He said that if it hadn’t been for -Tom Willis he never should have ketched her at all. But that didn’t -surprise me any, for Tom Willis is one of the kind who always will -find a way to do anything he sets out to. So he had helped Josiah -ketch the mair. - -They wuz dretful glad to have us there, it had been more than a -year since we had been there to stay any, and now we laid out to -stay two days and nights, and they wuz tickled. But as glad as -they’d been to see us, when that long, slim feller come walkin’ -in, if you’ll believe it, Tamer Ann Allen actually seemed gladder -to see him and made more on him than she did of Josiah and me, it -wuz a sight to see it go on. - -It seemed that when that old young chap come down into that -neighborhood he put up to the hotel to Zoar, and then would walk -over to Hamenses, and be there day in and day out, and stay jest as -long as he could. He liked Anna as well as he could like anything -outside of his old bones and ancestors and things, and I didn’t -wonder at it, for her fresh young beauty must have been attractive -to him, and a sort of a welcome change from his own looks and dry -bones and family trees and such. - -But I see she didn’t care anything about him, and I didn’t blame -her; good land! I thought to myself I could easier git up a -sentimental attachment to a good new telegraph pole, for that would -be kinder fresh and hemlocky. But Tamer bowed down before him as -if he wuz pure gold. His name wuz Von Winklstein Von Crankerstone, -or I guess that’s it. I can’t be sure even to this late day that I -have got the name down right, all the Vons and Winkles and things -in their right places. But I have done the best I could, and no man -or woman can do more. - -Tamer didn’t like it, because I couldn’t git his name right when -she introduced him, and I guess I did stumble round considerable -amongst them Dutch syllables. But Tamer didn’t like it, for in -apology for my shortcomin’s I mentioned Dutch. And she sez out in -the back kitchen, where I followed her, to apologize: - -“You speak of his bein’ Dutch; why,” sez she, “Josiah Allen’s wife, -he is from one of the oldest families in the country, he is a -descendant of the Poltroons who settled on the Hudson in Colonial -days.” - -“Is that so, Tamer?” sez I. “And is a Poltroon any better for bein’ -a old one than a young one?” - -And she sez, “I didn’t say Poltroon.” And she went on to explain, -but it wuz sunthin’ that sounded jest like it. Well, he stayed till -after dinner, and then he went off, much to Anna’s relief, I could -see plain. But Tamer acted real disappointed, and urged him warm to -come agin soon, which he promised to do ready enough. He wuz comin’ -back the next week, I believe; he had found some new old graves -somewhere that he wanted to identify and claim, if possible. It -beats all how fond he wuz of cemeteries. But, then, he had a good -deal the look of a tall slim monument himself. - -He bid us all good-by in a real polite way, but agin, when I tried -to speak his name in farewell, I struggled round and fell helpless -amongst the ruins of them syllables. - -Why, it beats all the time I had with ’em, and to eppisode forward -a little. A few weeks afterwards, when the Poltroon wuz there on -another visit, they wuz to our house to tea. He wanted to look in -the Jonesville cemetery, so they stopped to our house on their way -back. And Thomas J. and his folks, and Tom Willis and Elder Minkley -all happened to be spendin’ the afternoon there, and I shall never -forgit the names I called that Poltroon trying to introduce him. -Why, I called him by more than forty different names, I’ll bet; I -strugglin’ and wrestlin’ as you may say among the Vons and Crinkles -and etcetery, tryin’ hard to do my very best by him and the other -visitors and myself. - -And that decided me; I toilin’ and prespirin’ and sweatin’ in my -efforts to git the syllables all straight in a row and drive ’em -on in front of me, and he standin’ lookin’ like a martyr. He bore -up under it wonderful, I must say that for him, lookin’ bad but -speechless. It wuz jest after that last effort of mine to git the -name jest right (for I wuz introducin’ him to Elder Minkley, and I -always try to do my best by ministers, good creeters, they deserve -it), that I wunked Tamer Ann out, she lookin’ mad, and I red and -prespirin’ with my efforts, and, sez I, “This must end, Tamer Ann.” - -And sez she, “I should think as much!” - -“Well,” sez I, “Von Crank or Von Wink is what that young man will -be called by me for the rest of my days.” - -She demurred, but I stood firm. Sez I, “I may have to speak his -name several times while I live, and life is too short for me to go -stumblin’ round amongst the syllables of his name and wrastlin’ and -bein’ throwed by ’em. Von Crank is my choice, but you may take your -pick in the two names.” - -She see I wuz firm as adamantine rock, and so she yielded, and -Von Crank is what I’ve called him ever since. Tom Willis acted -tickled, and so did Thomas J. Thomas J. sets a sight by Tom Willis, -and so we all do. He is a likely young feller, light complected, -with blue-gray eyes that are keen and flashin’, and soft at the -same time, and no beard, only a mustache; a tall, broad-shouldered -young chap. And as I say he wuz tickled to see Von Crank stand up -straight and stiff and immovable genteel, and I callin’ him by so -many awful names and knowin’ by my firm stiddy mean I wuz doin’ my -very best by him and myself and the world at large. - -It hain’t nateral under the circumstances that Tom should love Von -Crank or Von Crank love him. They hain’t attached to each other at -all, anybody could see that at the most casual glance. To see Von -Crank try to patronize Tom and couldn’t, and to see Tom say the -dryest, provokinest things to Von Crank in a polite way and Von -Crank writhin’ under ’em, but too genteel to say anything back. It -wuz a strange seen. And to see Anna by all her lovin’ looks dotin’ -on Tom, and Tom’s silent, stiddy devotion to her, and Tamer Ann’s -efforts to git ’em apart and still keep genteel--why, it wuz as -good as any performance that wuz ever performed in a circus, and so -I told Josiah afterwards. - -Tom tried hard to act manly and upright, and that always effects me -powerful. To see a young man blowed on by such blasts of passion, -such a overmasterin’ love and longin’, and still standin’ up -straight and not gittin’ blowed over by ’em, it always affects me, -I can’t help it, I wuz made in jest that way. - -Now, after Von Crank got to goin’ after Anna, Tamer Ann, as I said -before, told Tom Willis to never step his foot in her house agin, -and have nothin’ to do at all with Anna. - -Well, Tom bowed to her, they say, and took his hat right up and -left without a word back to her only “good mornin’,” it wuz in -the mornin’ time that she told him. But they say, and I believe -it, that his face wuz white as death, even to the lips, and they -wuz tremblin’, so they say. And mebby he couldn’t say anything -owin’ to the sinkin’ of his heart, and mebby it wuz because he -wouldn’t promise to give her up and didn’t want to mad Tamer Ann by -contendin’ with her. Anyway, they say he didn’t say nothin’ only -jest “good mornin’,” and went out. - -He might have said enough. Good land! if I had been there I could -have told him lots of things to say. - -He might have said, “It is pretty late in the day to ask me to give -her up when she is right inside my heart and soul, and I should -have to tear ’em both open to git her out. It is pretty late in -the day to interfere when you have seen Anna and I playmates from -childhood. When you’ve seen us grow up side by side, all through -our happy youth to manhood and womanhood. When you’ve encouraged -us to be together at all times and all places, trusted her to my -care hundreds and hundreds of times all these years. Have looked -on calmly and seen, for you must have seen, how our hearts wuz -growing together, how our lives wuz gittin’ completely bound up in -one another. After you have sot quietly and allowed all this, now -because a richer, more fashionable suitor asks for Anna you think -you will take her away from me, from the one that holds her by the -divine right of love, and give her to one she does not belong to. -It shows either a criminal carelessness on your part, a criminal -neglect, or worse.” - -That’s about the way I should have talked if I had been Tom Willis. -But he didn’t, he jest walked out and shet the door, not slammin’ -it, or nothin’, and--and kep’ right on livin’. Never made no -threats about killin’ himself, never boasted, as might be spozed -he would, it is so common under the same circumstances, that he -had got sick of her, and, in fact, wuz so popular among the wimmen -that he had to slight some on ’em now and then, no, Tom never said -anything of all this, but jest kep’ right on with his work in a -manly, stiddy way, growin’ kinder pale and still for a spell, but -at last sort o’ brightenin’ up and havin’ a new and steadfaster -light in his eyes, and a more resolved look on his fine forward. - -He see Anna every Sunday in church, and, though he obeyed her -mother and didn’t give her any outward attention, yet there is -a stiddy attention of the soul that a woman can’t misunderstand -when it is wroppin’ her completely round and round. There is a -language of the eyes beyend Tamer Ann Smith to parse; it wuzn’t in -her grammar at all. And if she couldn’t parse it, it wuzn’t likely -that she could stop it. No, she might as well try to stop the vivid -language of the skies when the hidden forces of nature speaks out -in sheets of flame. - -Tom’s eyes, as they met Anna’s in the old meetin’ house, held hull -love poems, glowin’ stories of deathless devotion and faith in her. -And Anna read ’em, she alone held the key to the divine unwritten -language; the love in her own heart could alone translate the love -in his. - -Well, it had run along so for more than a year, and Anna wuz -twenty and Tom wuz twenty-three; Tom workin’ hard and beginnin’ -to be spoke of as a young lawyer who would rise in the world. And -Anna stayin’ to home and tryin’ to be dutiful (duty made hard by -naggin’). Havin’ to use Von Crank well under her mother’s eyes and -freezin’ him in lonely moments, froze one minute by Anna and thawed -out the next by Tamer Ann, and kep’ kinder soft and sloshy all the -time by his love for Anna, Von Crank wuzn’t to be envied much more -than Tom. - -But Tamer Ann (for he had acted up to his high station as a -Poltroon, and kinder relied on Tamer Ann to bring Anna round when -he knew in his heart that she detested him) kep’ tellin’ him -all the time that she would be all right in time, it wuz only a -girl’s shyness, etc., etc. So he kep’ on comin’, and Anna kep’ on -shunnin’ him all she could, and Tamer Ann kep’ on naggin’, and so -it went on. Hamen and John didn’t seem to pay so much attention -to this domestic side show, for all their leisure moments, when -they wuz in the house, would be took up foolin’ Jack, tellin’ him -strange stories, drawin’ him on to talk strange about ’em, and then -laughin’ at him. And Jack would meach off, feelin’ all used up and -humiliated, and they snickerin’, the fools! There wuz more sense in -Jack’s little finger than in their hull long bodies, and so I told -Josiah. - -Oh, how it incensed me to see it, and the incense grew stronger -every time I went there. Tamer Ann had got holt of a hull chest of -old dime novels that had fell to her from a distant relative. He -wuz jest sent to prison, bein’ a forger and a arson, and, as it wuz -for life, why this chest fell onto his relations, and as the rest -didn’t want the novels, why Tamer Ann got ’em. - -This relation who owned ’em had had a large family who doted on the -novels, but they had most on ’em been transported for life or hung, -or sunthin’ of that sort. His wife had long before run away with -another man, she had worshipped the novels while she lived in the -house with ’em, but she had run clear away out of sight, so Tamer -Ann got ’em, as I say, and oh! how she and Cicero gloated over ’em -and devoured ’em. Anna didn’t care for them, good land! she had -a romance in her own heart that took up all her time and tears, -poor thing! Jack wuzn’t old enough for ’em. As for Hamen and his -brother, they could tell their own lies, good land! they didn’t -need the novels, so Tamer had the hull run on ’em herself, she and -Cicero. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Well, to resoom backwards for a spell. Josiah and I wuzn’t goin’ -to stay only two days and one night, but, good land! they wouldn’t -hear a word to our goin’ so soon, so we stayed three days right -along. But then, as Tamer said, think of the visits that they had -made to us that wuz onpaid. Well, I thunk on ’em and thought likely -as not it wuz our duty to stay. But I see lots of things there I -didn’t like to see. I hate to talk about relations; I don’t think -it the right thing to do. But I can’t help sayin’ that I did see -lots of things that I wanted changed. Not Anna, she wuzn’t one -of the things I wanted changed, no, indeed! she and Jack wuz the -flowers of the family in full blow. Anna is jest as different from -the rest of her family as light is from darkness, and a good deal -the same way, and I believe Jack would come up a good deal like her -if he got a chance. - -One reason is why Anna is so different from her Ma, she wuz brung -up by a aunt of her father’s, brung up by hand by Aunt Judith -Smith, who, bein’ a old maid, couldn’t, it stands to reason, bring -her up in any other way. For years after Anna wuz born Tamer wuz -really sick, and this aunt lived with ’em and took care of Anna -and thought all the world of her till her death, which occurred -when Anna wuz fourteen. She wuz brought up dretful good, curious, -hain’t it, she bein’ a old maid, but old maids are sometimes real -religious, with good common horse sense, too, and Aunt Judith wuz. -And I have always spozed it wuz her bringin’ up and her precepts -and examples that made Anna so different. - -You see, the ideals she held up in front of Anna wuzn’t fashion and -expediency and outside show and vanity, no, indeed! they wuz truth -and honesty and honor and simple living and high thinking. She -held ’em up in front of her, and held ’em high, too, and propped -’em up by her own simple, straightforward, noble, self-sacrificin’ -life. For it wuzn’t any comfort to her to leave her little quiet, -comfortable home to take up her abode in the house of a Tamer or -even a Hamen. But she shouldered her crosses wherever she found ’em -and marched on with ’em silently and oncomplainin’ly and bravely, -and folks didn’t know from her groanin’s how heavy they bore down -on her shoulders. - -She didn’t want to take the care of this worse than motherless -child into her own tired hands. And she had plenty of means and -no need to, if she hadn’t felt it to be her duty. But she see the -little bark jest settin’ out, swashin’ and dashin’ round on the -jagged rocks of life, and she felt it to be her duty to take holt -of the hellum. Hamen had always been her favorite nephew, and she -wuz dretful sorry for his poor little peaked lookin’ baby. So, as I -say, she gin up her comfort and ease and histed this cross onto her -tired-out back, and commenced trudgin’ along the road of life with -it. - -And wuzn’t it queer how things will turn out? This job she had -tackled only from a sense of duty and in a real martyr sperit -become the greatest comfort and pleasure of her life. For pretty -soon Love, the great high priest, come in and sanctified her -offerings of comfort and ease, and made her way glorious. How -she did love Anna, and how Anna did love her. Of course clouds -sometimes dimmed the horizon, shadders from Tamer’s personality and -influence dimmed the clear sky that she wanted always to shine down -onto her darling, also some lighter shadders from Hamen’s onwisdom. - -But take it as a hull, Aunt Judith’s influence and sweet wise -teachings carried the day, and Anna grew up a girl of a thousand, -and at Aunt Judith’s death (which almost broke her heart) she wuz -so headed in the right way that she couldn’t be turned very fur -from it either way, not by Pa or Ma or any other onwise influence. -The money she left Anna wuz the least of the riches she give her. - -She died jest about the time that Tamer recovered her health, or as -much of it as she ever did recover, so Tamer had the care of Cicero -and poor little Jack. But then Jack had Anna, too, to kinder lean -on, for Tamer had another spell for some years after Jack wuz born. -But Cicero never would hear a word to Anna, he had got thoroughly -headed in his Ma’s ways, and then I spoze it wuz kinder hereditary -in him, too; he wuz born that way. - -Anna is real good lookin’, her cheeks are as pink as fresh young -damask roses, her complexion is clear and white and as smooth as -satin, and her eyes are very dark, and soft, and bright, too, her -hair is dark and wavy and kinks up in cunnin’ little curls on her -forward and neck, she can’t do it up so but what them little curls -will escape from the comb and cluster round her white neck and -forward as if it loved ’em. Oh, she looks well enough, as I have -told her time and agin: - -“Anna, if you will only be as good as you look, you will git along -first rate.” As I sez to her anon or oftener, “Handsome is that -handsome duz.” - -And she sez, “That is jest what Aunt Judith always said, Aunt -Samantha.” - -But I’d look at her all the time with that admirin’, appreciative -look on my eyebrow that she knew, the witch, jest how pretty I -thought she wuz (and I not helpin’ it to save my life). Yes, Anna -liked me dretful well, which wuzn’t so strange when one comes to -think how well I liked her. And she told me right out plain and -square that her feelin’s towards that young Von Crank wuz almost -murderous, and she owned up to me that sometimes when he wuz -standin’ up so straight and stiff she wuz tempted to tip him over, -and sez she, “I don’t believe he would bend at all, but fall right -over straight like a clothes pin or a telegraph pole.” - -“Well,” sez I, “don’t try to do that in the parlor, Anna, for if -it is so, think of the damage he would do to the furniture on the -other side of the room.” And I guess I kinder got her mind offen -it. But she sez, “You can’t bear him yourself, Aunt Samantha, and I -know it.” - -“Well, dear,” sez I, “everybody has their own station house in -life to fill, and I spoze he has his, or else why should he have a -station house?” - -Sez she, “He needn’t come round me with his mouldy old compliments, -for I would rather live with Tom Willis on bread and water than -with him in a palace.” - -Anna loves Tom, loves him as she duz her eyes, and as I say, -Hamenses wife had invited him there and let ’em grow up together -like a mornin’ glory vine round the pillow of a porch, never sayin’ -a word aginst their bein’ together, never noticin’ that under the -divine spring of youth and love her heart’s tendrils wuz puttin’ -out livin’ branches and twinin’ round the pillow of his steadfast -devotion, jest as firmly and jest as onbeknown to her as the vines -she had planted wuz twinin’ round their supports in the spring and -summer of the year. - -She waited, Tamer did, till the heart’s tendrils wuz wropped so -completely round the heart of Tom Willis that nothin’ but death -could ontwine ’em (and I don’t believe that death can, nor Josiah -don’t). But, howsumever, at this time Tamer Ann stepped in and -begun to tear ’em off. Just because Tom wuz poor, or that is poor -in money, for he wuz rich in all the qualities that go to make a -young man wealthy in himself, and there wuzn’t any doubt that he -would be rich in money in a few years the way he wuz going on now. -But his family wuz poor but pious, and Von Crank wuz rich. And -Tamer begun to tell me the very next mornin’ after I got there what -a great family he had descended from. - -And I sez, “How big!” - -And she sez, “One of the greatest families in the State.” - -“Well,” sez I, “that don’t raise him in my estimation any. There is -a man in Loontown that has had thirty-two children by his different -wives, but he is a shiftless creeter, and so are most of his -children.” - -Sez she, “I don’t mean that; I mean an old family.” - -“How old?” sez I calmly. And I went on, “There is a man in Spoon -Settlement that has got a grandchild over seventy. And that you -know, Tamer Ann, must make the old man pretty old, and, in fact, -a pretty old family, for they are all livin’, father, son, and -grandson. But, good land! nobody ever thought of lookin’ up to -old Father Minkler, why, he is on the town, and has been on it -for years, and they say now his son is on it and his grandson is -jest thinkin’ of gittin’ on it. Good land! I should never think of -lookin’ up to a family because they wuz old.” - -“Well,” she sez, “they’ve descended from a long line of ancestors, -they have great reason to be proud of it, there is where they have -the advantage of us.” - -“Oh, shaw!” sez I, “that is jest what we’ve all done, or it stands -to reason that we shouldn’t be here. We have had to have ancestors, -everybody has. I don’t see that he has any more than we have, so -fur as that is concerned. I don’t spoze he has had more’n one -father, or any of ’em have had more’n one father apiece, and that -is jest what we’ve all had. If he had had several fathers and -mothers it might be sunthin’ to boast over, and I don’t know as it -would after all, for the text sez ‘every man stands and falls on -himself,’ or words to that effect.” - -And then Tamer Ann sez agin, real hautily, “He is from one of the -old Dutch families it makes folks so proud to be descended from. He -is a direct descendant of the Poltroons.” - -“Well,” sez I calmly, “I shouldn’t wonder a mite if he wuz, but it -don’t raise him up any in my estimation, and it wouldn’t if he had -had Solomon and Moses for grandfathers. When I gather a white lily -I pick it for its beauty and sweetness, and not for the soil it -sprung from, good land! what do I care whether it grew on sandy -sile or gravelly, or swampy, or anything? I prize it for its own -beauty and sweetness that it has drawn by its own life out of the -earth. Good land! I should jest as soon take up a handful of this -sile and treasure it up and try to see how it come to nourish so -sweet a life as I would to grope back amongst the dust of them -old Poltroons. Though to be sure it is nateral that a posy should -strike some clingin’ roots down into the sile it grew on, it is -nater and can’t be helped. You take any posey that is healthy and -vigorous, and take any tree or bush whatsumever, and when you pull -it out of its home it takes a wrench, a hard wrench to start it, -the tendrils strike so deep. God made posies and hearts kinder -clingin’ in their nater and they hang onto their old homes. It is -nateral for folks to look back with pride upon the noble doin’s of -their forefathers if they’ve done ’em, but to boast over a Poltroon -jest from the fact of his bein’ a Poltroon--I should never boast -over it, never.” - -“Patroon,” sez Tamer hautily, “I have corrected you before in this.” - -“Well,” sez I mildly, “they sound considerable alike, and when -there are so many big words that mean about the same thing it is -nateral that folks should sometimes git ’em kinder mixed.” - -“They wuz high families,” sez Tamer, “they descended from the Dutch -settlers on Manhattan Island, that the grandest families of to-day -claim with pride as being their ancestors.” - -“Oh,” sez I, “you mean them old market gardeners, them old cabbage -raisers, fur hunters, and pumpkin farmers. Why, how you talk,” -sez I, “I think more of Von Crank than I did. I had no idee his -ancestors wuz good honest farmers, plantin’ and diggin’ their -own sile. I spozed from his looks and mean that he had never done -anything more useful than to gnaw canes and look through a glass -eye onto nothin’, I am glad you told me, Tamer, why his ancestors -must be real congenial to Josiah and me, though of course we own -more land and live better than them old Dutchmen did. But they wuz -likely, though poor, and put to it for things, and a sort of beer -guzzlin’, ignorant set, but not to blame for not knowin’ much.” - -Tamer didn’t like it, but she turned the subject off onto her -resolve to not let Anna have anything to do with Tom Willis, -seemin’ly not carin’ a mite what wuz goin’ on in Anna’s heart, no -more than if she wuz one of the enchanted females she had read so -much about. - -But all this time, in spite of Tamer Ann’s perfect indifference to -the life happiness of Anna, she didn’t let anything interfere with -her riggin’ her up in the latest fashion, she didn’t let any of the -“Enchanted Females of the Wild Forest; or, Petrified Dragons of the -Dark Prairies,” or the last of the new diseases hender her from -seein’ with her own eyes that Anna had the newest and curiousest -kind of tattin’ on her underclothin’ and her dresses made in the -latest fashion, and all the smaller things about her clothin’ wuz -in first rate order. - -These Tamer Ann called the essentials of life, and she allowed -nothin’ to interfere with ’em, but if she had been one of the -Enchanted Princesses or petrified animals she couldn’t been more -dumb and deef to the real soul and heart needs of her child. It -is pitiful, mighty pitiful, when the door of a child’s heart is -blockaded day by day by the stupidity and ignorance of a mother, -till at last the doors and winders are all shet up and the mother -shot out doors, ornamentin’ the outside with shiffon and jewelry -and knowin’ nothin’ of what is goin’ on inside. - -It is pitiful, and in ninety cases out of a hundred the mother -is the one to blame. Why, good land! she is inside in the first -on’t, and there is nothin’ to hender her from keepin’ inside but -ignorance, carelessness, neglect, lack of sympathy, or lack of -time. In Tamer’s case it wuz mostly lack of time as I have shown. -The elopin’ females and Dejected Denizens of the Dungeon Keep kep’ -her too busy, them and her basiler menigitis and sinevetus and -sangeletus and perinitus and etc., etc., etc., and her domestic -duties, some on ’em which she wuz to blame for undertakin’, and -I told her so. She had a new hired girl whose real name wuz -Hannah, but who thought it would be more romantick to call herself -Arabeller, and she made a specialty of the “beller,” she wanted -it pronounced Arabeller, and Tamer Ann, thinkin’ that it would be -real romantick to have a hired girl by that name, she jined forces -with her, and by the time I got there the name Hannah wuz forgot, -seemin’ly, and Arabeller wuz the name. - -Well, Arabeller wuz a girl I wouldn’t have inside my house. She -wuz big and fat, and I never see her face when it wuz what I -called clean, and her dirty lookin’ hair, kinder drab color, wuz -all covered with hair oil and scented with bergamont. What her -complexion would be if it wuz washed clean I didn’t know, and spoze -I never shall, but as it wuz it looked muddy and grimy, and wuz all -covered with black heads and pimples, and coarse powder. She wore, -in the afternoon, her cheap, gaudy dresses in a train draggin’ -round the house, and cheap, high-heeled shues, settin’ table and -washin’ dishes with them dirty ruffles floppin’ after her, wipin’ -up all the dirt and nastiness that she couldn’t seem to git enough -of in any other way. - -She had girted her waist down into the smallest dimension she -could, but bein’ fat and her buttons not to be relied on, there -would be dretful gaps on the waist in different places, and between -the waist and draggly skirt, and as she wuz one of the girls so -common in the country, who won’t work out unless she is one of the -family, her clothin’ showed up to good advantage at the table, the -dirt on her face and dress bein’ emphasized by blotches of flour -and grease, stove blackin’, prespiration, and sweat. - -She, too, wuz most always to be seen with a dime novel in her hand. -Sometimes she would stop and take up “The Queen of the Haunted -Palace” in her hands and foller her fortunes while her dish water -got cold. And once I see her myself readin’ the Police Gazette -while she wuz fryin’ sassige, and one end of the dirty sheet -drizzled down into the fat (I didn’t eat any of the sassige). - -She had took music lessons. Her Ma went out washin’ and had to -mortgage her cow, the only thing she possessed in the world, to -pay for Arabeller’s lessons. And, though there wuz no prospects of -her ever havin’ anything to practice on more melogious that the -clothes wringer, no earthly prospect or heavenly, either, for I -didn’t believe she would ever be good enough to play on the golden -harp even if she knew the notes. But she would take lessons, and -now when she could escape for a minute from the kitchen we could -hear her singin’ and playin’ at the top of her rough, coarse voice, -“The Bowery Boy” and the “Beauteous Ballet Girl,” which she -pronounced “beauchieus ballet.” - -If she had a spark of talent I should have approved of her -ambition, but she couldn’t sing no more than a horse can make -fried cakes. And I told Tamer that if her Ma had gin the cow music -lessons and mortgaged Arabeller to pay for them, she would have got -better returns for her money, though who would take the mortgage -wuz more than I knew, unless it was Cicero. - -Well, as I told Tamer Ann, I couldn’t have such a girl in my house -overnight, bold, boastin’, insolent, lyin’, nasty inside and -outside, leerin’, brazen, and altogether worthless. But Tamer said -she got her real cheap, and she thought by havin’ her instead of a -better girl she could save money enough to git a new sealskin cloak -and a bracelet out of the household money, so she hired her for a -song almost. - -“Not one of her songs, I hope,” sez I. - -“No,” Tamer said, she said it in a parable way. Well, as nigh as I -could make out from what I see myself and from what I hearn, Cicero -thought it would be kinder manly and like one of his Bandit Heroes -to fall in love with her, and pay her attentions, not in the good -open hullsome way of comrades and playmates, in her few hours of -leisure, but in the dime novel, pirate way, brigand and burglar, -romantick, sentimental way. - -There wuz a cave in the woods back of Hamenses, and he used to -retire there quite a good deal. And he tried time and agin to run -away with her. She wuzn’t likely, so Tamer said, and she knew -she would have to watch her when she hired her, but she said she -thought she could, with her family’s help. She seemed to specially -count on Cicero’s help from her talk to me, but ’tennyrate she -owned up that it made her sights of trouble. - -And I sez to her in the cause of duty, “Tamer Ann, why did you hire -a girl that you thought wuzn’t likely? Why did you bring such a -girl into the house with your children? I wuz never much of a hand -to wave fire brands round in piles of tow and flax, or light parlor -matches in powder magazines. But, howsumever,” sez I, “everybody -hain’t alike, and I spoze mebby you thought you would git along.” - -“Yes,” sez she, “for I knew we could watch her through the day, and -then we always nail her up at night.” - -“Nail her up!” sez I, agast at the idee, “what do you mean?” - -Sez she, “There hain’t no lock to her door, but we have got an old -door that we set aginst hern and nail it up every night.” - -“Don’t you feel queer while you are doin’ it?” sez I, for truly it -made me feel queer as a dog jest hearin’ it. - -“Yes,” sez she, “I do feel queer, and specially when we drag her in -by moonlight, for she has often tried to run away with Cicero, but -we would some on us hear her, and then we would have to go out and -drag her back and nail her up.” - -“Wuzn’t it a sight of work?” sez I pityin’ly. - -“Yes,” sez she, it wuz a sight of work, for she wuz so mean that -she would let her feet drag, and they would have to pull her back -by main force. - -Sez I, “Tamer Ann, it seems to me that it would be easier to -wash the dishes and sweep than to do this, and that is about all -Arabeller duz anyway.” - -Tamer said it wuz a good deal more work, but it wuz genteel to -employ a servant, it give a sort of a air to a house to have a -servant in it. - -And I sez, “Yes, it duz give considerable air, if you have to be -rushin’ round at any time of night to drag her in and nail her up.” - -“Yes,” sez Tamer, “of course my family help me, but that has made -me sights of worriment agin, for I most know that Cicero has kep’ -up a clandestine correspondence with her, and would slip notes into -her hand while he wuz helpin’ me drag her back. I have ketched -him,” sez she, “leavin’ the nails loose so she could break out -while he wuz helpin’ me nail her up.” - -“Tamer,” sez I, real earnest, “do hear to me; do git rid of -Arabeller, or you will sup sorrer from it in the end.” And I see -that all that wuz keepin’ her back from it wuz the idee of style -and gentility. - -I didn’t dread her influence so much over Anna, for I felt that -her nater wuz so healthy and wholesome and well grounded in good -actions that it would reject the pizen atmosphere. And little Jack, -I hoped and prayed none of her acts would even be known to him by -name. But I worried more than considerable over the hull matter, -and so did the neighbors, I could see. Why, one night while I wuz -there a neighborin’ woman, Miss Presley, walked right into Tamer’s -kitchen without knockin’, with an old shawl over her head and a -lantern in both hands. Cicero had gone into her paster and took -both her horses and gone off somewhere with ’em, he and Arabeller. -She wuz a old maid and said she had always been imposed upon, but -she demanded help to hunt her horses. - -So Tamer and Hamen had to git up and pacify Miss Presley and help -hunt, for sure enough when they went to Cicero’s room he wuzn’t -there, and when they went to Arabeller’s room there the nails wuz -pulled out and she wuz let loose, and we found out afterwards they -had both run away to git married. But Hamen started off horseback, -he and the hired man, and they catched them jest before they -reached the minister’s house down on Stuny Creek. - -Well, that broke that up, but Arabeller went about the house real -surly, and Cicero, though he didn’t say much, had such mysterious -looks that I most knew he wuz meditatin’ rapine or burglarly or -sunthin’ or ruther. But, as it come out afterwards, he wuz plannin’ -to carry Arabeller off into his cave and keep her there till he -could bring a clergyman stealthily to the trysting place to unite -them. That all happened after I wuz there. But I worried about him -considerable nights after I went to bed, and wondered sadly how it -would all come out. - -But to resoom backwards. The next mornin’ after we went there Tamer -got a good breakfast. She wuz sufferin’ from sinevetus, she said, -and wuz dretful afraid of basler menigitus, but they didn’t hender -her from gittin’ a first rate meal--good steak, creamed potatoes, -hot rolls, coffee, etc., and she did it almost all herself, for -Anna had her work to do, and Arabeller couldn’t git a good meal to -save her life. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -Well, after breakfast Tamer and I wuz in the settin’ room both on -us sewin’, for I had took a fine shirt of Josiah’s to finish, and -she wuz embroiderin’ some lace ruffles to trim a skirt for Anna. - -“Tamer, I should think such work would be hard on your basiler -disease, whatever it is. Hain’t it dretful hard to embroider that -fine lace?” - -“Yes, Josiah Allen’s wife, it is hard, but you know I don’t mind -any labor or any care if I can advance my children’s happiness, you -know jest how I watch over their interests and am willing to spend -and be spent in their service.” - -And she bent closter still over the fine complicated stitches of -that wearisome lookin’ embroidery, and I thought and couldn’t help -it, if you would spend half or a quarter of the time you spend in -ornamentin’ the bodies of your children, in lookin’ out for their -souls and hearts, and studyin’ their welfare, you would come out -better in the end. - -And at this very minute little Jack come in lookin’ bright as the -mornin’, which wuz very fair. He wuz dressed up slick and clean in -a little blue suit, with a deep collar braided painfully by Tamer -Ann in fine black braid, and all up and down the side of his little -legs that fine embroidery run. And Tamer begun to charge him the -minute he got into the room to not run round out doors for fear he -would soil that beautiful new suit. “You know,” sez she, “your Ma -done that for you when she couldn’t hardly lift her head from the -pillow. It almost killed your Ma, that work did.” - -I see at this Jack’s little face grew overcast with a couple of -shadders. One wuz cast from the martyr’s cloudy brow, no doubt the -thought of killin’ his Ma wuz more or less painful to him, and the -other and deeper shadder wuz that he couldn’t run round free as -the young colts that wuz prancin’ about the medder by the side of -the house. His poor little legs wuz jest achin’ to jump and bound -and curvit round, and there they wuz doomed to imprisonment in a -braided fortress. Oh, my! I wuz sorry for Jack, sorry as I could -be. Well, Tamer and I sot there and had quite an agreeable visit, -Tamer has her properties, though she is sot and overbearin’, I mean -when she is herself, more’n half the time I do believe she imagines -herself a Female Amazonian or a African Princess or sunthin’. - -We talked about the different relations on both sides, and quite a -good deal about my grandchildren; she talked middlin’ agreeable, -but what I can’t understand in her is her total lack of good -judgment. Why, she said that there had been other little girls that -looked jest as well as Tirzah Ann’s youngest, little Anna Thyrza, -and she said she didn’t like the name, and if Tirzah had called her -after herself she ort to called her Tirzah Ann. Sez I, “We call her -Delight, she don’t hardly know she has got any other name, and,” -sez I, “our daughter can’t bear the name of Tirzah Ann, she thinks -it is so old fashioned and humbly, and so I don’t know that she -is so much to blame for naming her in this roundabout way after -herself. Whitfield would have the baby named after her Ma,” sez I. - -Sez Tamer, “I shall always call the child Tirzah.” And agin I told -her this it wuzn’t the child’s name, and agin Tamer sez firmly, -“Tirzah is a good name, and I shall call her Tirzah.” And so she -did call her through the hull of our conversation in spite of all -my explanations. - -Well, bein’ a visitor, I thought I wouldn’t contend with her, but I -wuz some mad on the inside about it. But jest while we wuz talkin’ -Tamer looked out towards the road and said, “If there don’t come -Aunt Nabby Barnes! oh, dear me! the sight of her fairly makes me -sick, and she will stay all day most likely. Well, we have got to -make the best of it, I spoze, she has got lots of money and no -heirs, and she thinks a good deal of Jack. Now, Jack,” sez she, to -the little boy who wuz lookin’ on with open eyes and ears, “you -must be good to her and pay attention to her all day.” And then -agin she resoomed her complaints. “Why couldn’t she have stayed -away to-day and let us alone? I hope she won’t stay long.” By that -time Aunt Nabby had knocked at the door, and Tamer met her with -enthosiasm and several kisses, and sez: - -“Oh, my dear Aunt Nabby! how glad we all are to see you! Why -haven’t you been here before? It seems an age since we have seen -you; you have come now to stay a good, long while with us, haven’t -you? Jack come right here and kiss dear Aunt Nabby.” - -“I won’t,” sez Jack. “I don’t want her here.” - -“Do you come this minute, Jack, and kiss dear Aunt Nabby. Jack -talks about you so much, Aunt Nabby; he thinks everything of you.” - -“I don’t,” sez Jack; “I don’t think anything of her at all.” - -“Jack, do you come here this minute and kiss Aunt Nabby, or I will -punish you severely.” - -Jack dragged himself towards her as if a heavy weight hung to his -feet, and put his cheek up against hers. He didn’t kiss her, I -don’t believe, but his mother thought he did, and so she let him -off. - -Well, that afternoon Jack told a fib, and his mother ketched him -at it. It wuz what they call a white lie, as for me I have always -made a practice of thinkin’ that lies are never white, that they -are never any color but black. But this one of Jack’s wuzn’t very -black, anyway, it wuz a sort of a small light colored one (if they -are ever light colored). But you ort to seen the fuss Tamer Ann -made over it, and it wuz jest what ort to be done, he ortn’t to be -allowed to fib. But who learnt him to lie? Who sot him the pattern? -Them wuz the two questions that wuz hantin’ me as I hearn Tamer Ann -whippin’ him and heard Jack cryin’ over it. - -Tamer come downstairs completely exhausted, and sez she, “Oh, what -a time I have had! What a job it is to bring up children right! My -arms ache as if they would come off, but I will bring my children -up right if my arms do come off in the job. Lyin’ is sunthin’ I -won’t have in this house.” - -And Tamer meant what she said, I hain’t no idee but what she did, -she thought she abominated lyin’ and never mistrusted she had been -lyin’ all the mornin’ herself, about three and a half hours of -clear, stiddy lie, black as a coal. She didn’t mistrust it, but -in the cause of duty I reminded her of it, for I loved Jack and -couldn’t bear to see him spilte, and I sez, “Children are quick to -foller patterns.” - -And she sez, tostin’ her head, “Nobody ever ketched me in a lie, or -Hamen, either.” - -Sez I, “Jack heard you groanin’ and dreadin’ Aunt Nabby, and hatin’ -to see her, to her back, and then kissin’ and tellin’ her how glad -you wuz to see her to her face; what is that, Tamer Ann Allen, what -is that?” - -She tosted her head agin and sez, “Oh, you have got to do such -little things to git along peaceable.” Sez I, “Well, I spoze Jack -thought he had got to tell his little lie in order to git along -smooth.” - -Sez Tamer Ann, “This is entirely different; we older ones have the -duties of society restin’ on us----” - -“The older ones,” sez I, interruptin’ her, “ort to behave -themselves and not set patterns of falsehood before the children.” - -“Society, as it is now organized,” sez Tamer Ann, “cannot exist and -run smoothly without a little, not exactly falsehood or deceit, I -wouldn’t use exactly those words----” - -“I would,” sez I firmly, “I would, that is jest what they be, jest -what you used this mornin’ and whipped Jack for this afternoon.” - -“Society would break in pieces if it were not for the oil of these -qualities, which I cannot exactly name----” - -“I can,” sez I firmly; “I can name ’em.” - -“If it were not for this to soften the friction of the machinery, -society would break in pieces.” - -“Then let it break into pieces,” sez I, “into a hundred pieces. But -surely,” I sez, “there is such a thing as truth and frankness and -simplicity and honor in the world, surely there are them that live -their lives in a simple, honest way, not hidin’ or coverin’ up, -nor pretendin’ to be what they are not, but jest go on from day to -day and from year to year doin’ their best, not pretendin’ their -best is any better than it is, and not pretendin’ that it is any -worse (which is jest as wrong, though we don’t look at it in that -light). Not awed by them above ’em in worldly wealth and station, -thinkin’ how little one really can own in this life, not lookin’ -down on them beneath ’em in worldly knowledge or wealth, thinkin’ -how different God looks on different gifts from what we do, and -thinkin’ mebby he counts wealth of heart more worthy than wealth -of intellect. For that very reason havin’ no contempt for common -people or common things, knowing’ well that what we call common -He might call oncommon. The beggar mebby with his heart full of -prophecy and hope beatin’ under his squalid rags, and the king like -as not carryin’ his poor starved heart to a banquet with his royal -robes trailin’ about him. We can’t see through these rags and robes -always, and see what poverty or wealth they cover. So it is best to -carry our heads and minds jest as straight and stiddy as we can, -and doin’ our own duty we will have less time to either look up or -down on our poor fellow mortals travelin’ along the road with us, -we won’t have the time to pretend to like them when we don’t, to be -overjoyed to see ’em when we hain’t, but will try to tell the truth -with fear and tremblin’.” - -Sez Tamer Ann, “Would you tell everybody right out blunt what you -think of ’em?” - -“No,” sez I firmly, “no, indeed! that would make the world too -curious a place, that would make circuses and shows and curosities -too common and frequent in our streets. Oh, no,” sez I, lookin’ -pensively at Tamer Ann, who had begun to embroider agin fiercely, -“I should hate to tell folks what I thought of ’em for even half -an hour. And there is no need of it, everybody can mind their own -bizness a good deal of the time, it don’t require much of any nack -to keep your tongue between your teeth, and not tell what you -think, to keep back things when it hain’t necessary to tell ’em.” -Sez I reasonable, “It is hard to do oft times, but it is much -better than to say a lot of things you don’t mean.” - -Sez Tamer Ann, “Folks will git into places in this world where -it is impossible to git out peaceable without wigglin’ round and -deceivin’ a little.” - -“There is always a open place above ’em,” sez I, “let ’em look for -help there and they will git it, and,” sez I firmly, “I have always -found that truth wuz the best to depend on in the long run even -from a worldly point of view, to say nothin’ of right and wrong. -It hain’t half so hard to keep kinder still and not talk a lot of -trash you don’t mean, and at the same time it saves your breath to -talk considerable about what you do like. And that I wuz always -quite a case to do. I always seem to have to talk about folks and -things that I like. The world is so full of beauty and goodness -and glory, and power and grandeur and loveliness, you meet all the -time folks so full of good qualities, things to admire and like, -that it uses up my breath. I never seem to have any left to praise -up things and folks I don’t like and look admirin’ at ’em, I don’t -seem to have the time and breath even if I wanted to, which I -don’t, Heaven knows.” - -“Oh, well,” sez Tamer Ann, sithin’ deep, “it is so hard to know -what to do, sometimes I think it is better to use a little deceit, -if by doin’ so you can make folks feel agreeable, and make yourself -and others happier.” - -Sez I dryly, very dry, dry as chips, “I spoze that is how Jack -felt, I spoze he felt that it would make you happier if he told you -he had done what you sot him to do, and Jack had partly done it, -as you know very well. I spoze he felt that it would make you and -himself happier and the friction lighter on the wheels of society, -and his poor little back, if he told you it wuz all done. But you -didn’t seem to like it, and the friction wuz severe judgin’ from -the groanin’s and screamin’s I heard from upstairs. But as long as -you do the same thing yourself, Tamer Ann Allen, and teach Jack to -do it, in the most powerful way, the way of example, you hadn’t ort -to whip him. For that is one theme for which I have labored long -and feel deeply, to not blame children for what we do ourselves and -teach them to do.” - -“Well,” sez Tamer, foldin’ up her embroidery, “it is time to put -the teakettle on.” And she went out and shot the door middlin’ -hard, but I didn’t care if she did, I had leaned against Duty and -felt considerable calm in my frame. - -She got a real good supper, and I a-settin’ out on the porch could -hear her walk to and fro settin’ the table in the dining room, -Arabeller bein’ out in the kitchen cookin’ sunthin’. And then it -wuz I see that my talk to Tamer hadn’t struck in as I wanted it to, -but I pacified myself by turnin’ my thoughts onto the needecessity -of watchin’ after the seed is sown, and not be discouraged because -it won’t spring up the same hour you put it into the soil. No, I -felt (some of the time) that Tamer’s nater wuz kinder sandy soil, -bein’ drained by her different diseases, and beat down on by the -lurid glare of the climate she dwelt in most of the time, namely -them foamin’, blood-curdlin’ novels of hern, and I ort to wait in -patience, and as the Sam sez be willin’ to sow in season and out of -season, hopin’ that some of it would spring up and bear good fruit. - -Well, the reason of this simely wuz the eppisode I witnessed -through the open winder between Tamer and poor little Jack. She -wuz learnin’ him a lesson in Gography every day, and as he had run -looser on account of company bein’ there, his lesson wuz belated -and he wuz tired, but she had sent him after his little Gography -and set him at it while she wuz settin’ the table. She told him -to bound Bolivia. Jack wuz in one of his wild moods, he had ’em -sometimes, restless, obstropulous moods, jest as we all have. Jack -wuz standin’ up on two chairs in front of his Ma some like the -Colossial Roads, I have heard Thomas J. read about. - -In some things Hamen’s wife is real lax, laxer than I would be. -I should have made Jack stand up in front of me, or set. But she -didn’t mind, so he stood up with his feet on two chairs real -defiant lookin’ and uppish. And he spoke out loud and firm, and sez -he: - -“I don’t like the word, Bolivia, Boliver is a good word, I will -bound Boliver,” and he stood up firmer than ever and the chairs -further apart, seemin’ly. - -Sez Tamer, “Do you bound Bolivia.” - -“Boliver,” sez Jack, “is bounded on the north by----” - -“Bolivia!” sez Hamen’s wife. - -“Boliver!” sez Jack firmly; “I like the word, and Boliver it shall -be!” And Tamer of course couldn’t stand that, and so she had to -whip him again, but I hearn him, as she dragged him upstairs, say -kinder low, but jest so she could hear him, “Boliver.” - -And she tusseled more than half an hour with him, and supper wuz -belated, and she come down hot and wore out with her efforts to -make him give up, and sez she, “He is such a hard child to manage, -I can’t make him give up and say things right. Now, that child knew -that Boliver wuzn’t the right word, but still he wuz bound to have -his own way and say it as he wanted to.” - -Then Duty gin me a real hard jog, I up and sez to her: “Children -are great cases to foller example and do what they see done.” - -“What under the sun do you mean?” sez she wonderin’ly. - -“Why,” sez I, “this very mornin’ when you wuz bound and determined -to call little Delight Tirzah, I told you that wuzn’t her name, -but you said that it wuz a good name and you should call her so. I -noticed Jack eyin’ us clost as if it wuz a new and agreeable idee, -that folks could alter names if they wanted to, and,” sez I firmly, -“Delight’s name is no more Tirzah than Bolivia is Boliver!” - -“Oh, well,” sez Tamer, “that is of no consequence at all. What I do -and what Jack can do is two.” - -“Yes,” sez I solemnly, “and it may turn out to be more than two in -the end.” - -Sez she coldly, “I don’t know what you mean.” And to tell the -truth, I don’t really know as I knew myself, but it made a kinder -good endin’ to our talk. But as anybody can see Jack wuzn’t a mite -to blame in the Boliver affair, he is naturally very conscientious, -if they only knew enough to appreciate it, he always wants to fix -things jest right even in his play. I remember one time when I wuz -stayin’ there over Sunday he gin a remarkable instance of it. - -Tamer wuz strict, I must say, about not lettin’ Jack play games -on Sunday, and he wuz good about mindin’, but I spoze he hankered -after playin’ sunthin’ when the time hung too heavy on his hands, -and, like older folks, he wanted a change. He had one Bible game -that Tamer let him play, but I spoze he had got tired of it, and -then the names wuz dretful tegus to keep the run on--Nebuchadnezer, -Melchizedec, Mephilboseth--good land! they wuz hard for grown folks -to git right. Hamen and his brother, John, wuz great cases to play -cards evenin’s, and Jack had a game that he played with ’em some -like authors. I had played it myself with him sometimes week-day -evenin’s, and Jack come to me that Sunday evenin’ and sez: “Aunt -Samantha, why can’t we play a Bible game with cards?” - -And I sez, “I don’t see how you could fix it so as to play a Bible -game with ’em.” - -And he sez, “Well, you can call the two spot Jacob, and I can call -for it, and we can call the ten spot Paul, or the Jack, and you can -call for him.” - -And I sez, “I would hate to call such a good man as Paul the Jack.” - -“Well,” sez he, “we could call the king Paul, and the queen Mary.” - -But I talked him offen the idee, it didn’t seem right to me -somehow. But he wuz honest and likely about it and didn’t mean -no harm, and at the best it wuz only tryin’ to reconcile science -and religion, or religion and fashion, as so many do, holdin’ the -world in one hand and religion in the other, and tryin’ to carry -’em both stiddy. But Hamen and John laughed like two big gump -heads about it, and the next evenin’ when they wuz playin’ they -would call the two spot “Jacob” every time, and look at Jack and -laugh till I felt that it wuz enough to make him swing right out -and play cards Sunday, and not try to reconcile it with goodness -and religion. But Tamer, when she found out about it, whipped him -severe, she said it wuz irreverent and she wouldn’t have it. And -that wuz jest the way it wuz the hull durin’ time. - -Well, we didn’t stay but a day or two after the Boliver affair. -Josiah felt that he must be to home, so we went, Tamer promisin’ -Jack, who cried hard when we started, that he might come down and -stay several days with us in a week or so, when she went to see -Aunt Mary John she would leave him there and then stop and git him -on her way home. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Little Delight burnt up the world a week ago last Wednesday, -somewhere along about the middle of the forenoon. - -She stayed here three days and four nights, while her Pa and Ma -went to North Scriba to his folkses on a visit. Diphtheria wuz -ragin’ there among the little children, and we none of us wuz -willin’ to let Delight go. And they thought that they must go, for -Barzilly Minkley, who hadn’t been in this part of the country for -years and years, had come home to his folkses on a visit (Barzilly -is Whitfield’s own cousin on his father’s side), and all the -Minkleys wuz invited to the old Minkley homestead to visit with him. - -Whitfield wanted to go, but didn’t want to unless Tirzah Ann went. -I approved of their goin’, and told Tirzah Ann I would help her all -I could. I helped her make a new cashmere dress and a blue wool -travelin’ dress, and told her she could wear my new waterproof in -welcome, hern wuz a old one. And I told her I would take care of -little Delight and take it as a privelige. So they started early on -a Tuesday mornin’, and we went after the child Monday night, so’s -not to belate ’em on their journey. And it wuz on the Wednesday -follerin’ about ten o’clock in the forenoon that she burnt up the -world. - -She wuz dretful willin’ to come home with us, and we wuz dretful -willin’ she should come, which made it willin’ all round, and -agreeable. She thinks as much of Josiah and me as she duz of her Pa -and Ma. And I made her a bed on the lounge in our room, and it did -seem good to have her there. We took sights of comfort. - -Her little appetite wuz excellent, and it wuz a great comfort to me -to cook things she called for. I can tell you it brought back old -times when her Ma and uncle, Thomas J., wuz little children, every -time I baked turnovers for her. And when I fried cakes it did seem -so good to fry men and wimmen and children and every livin’ animal -I could think on for her. And it seemed as if I couldn’t hardly -satisfy her on the animals. I do believe I fried every critter I -ever hearn on, unless it wuz a hyena, and it kinder seems as if I -fried one of them one day, but I won’t say for certain, maybe it -wuz a catamount, they look some alike, anyway. - -But we did enjoy havin’ her there the best that ever wuz. When -she got up in the mornin’ and come to us with her great bright -eyes dancin’, and the mornin’ light shinin’ on her wavin’ hair, it -almost seemed as if it wuz our lost youth comin’ back towards us -with immortal hope and gladness in its glances. We loved her so, -she wuz so much a part of our own hearts and lives that it seemed -as if our love for her and our tender pride and happiness in her, -carried us back into the Long Ago. And we could almost fancy she -wuz one of our youthful dreams gin back to us and made real. - -Oh, we took sights and sights of comfort with her, I don’t think we -love her any better than we did her Ma and Uncle, Thomas J., I know -we don’t, and I don’t think the neighbors are doin’ right when -they say we do. And I think it is very unkind and unreasonable of -’em to say that we humor her to death and make a perfect fool of -her. It is not so. - -But we have more time to spend with her than we did with our -children when they wuz little. Then we had to work hard to git -along and pay for the place. And Josiah didn’t have no time to take -Tirzah Ann or Thomas J. onto the plough handle in front of him and -let ’em ride round the field with him, and etcetery. And I didn’t -have time to stop sweepin’ and washin’ dishes and let ’em play they -wuz washin’ dishes and sweepin’, and so forth and so on. - -And we didn’t have time, Josiah and me, to let ’em take holt of -our hands, one of us on each side of ’em, like the Babes in the -Woods, and lead us all over jest where they wuz a mind to--into -the woodshed and all over the dooryard, and the barn. But now when -Delight is here we are jest the Babes, Josiah and me, to be led off -anywhere she wants to lead us. - -For things are different now. The farm is paid for, the children -are brung up, and well brung up (everybody admits that). And if -little Delight wants to lead round her Grandpa and me she is goin’ -to lead us, and there hain’t nobody goin’ to break it up. Good -land! we enjoy it as much as she duz. And if she should take it -into her little head to lead us off into the woods and cover us -up with leaves, it wouldn’t be any of the neighbor’s bizness, -if Josiah and me wuz willin’ to be led and covered, as we most -probable should be. - -I think it is very unkind of the neighbors to say we let her have -her own way all of the time, and don’t correct her at all. It is -not anyways likely it is so, but spozen it wuz, if her way wuz the -right way why not let her have it? - -It’s very seldom that she duz a thing that is the least mite out of -the way. I don’t know that I could exactly approve of her burnin’ -up the world--that might not been exactly the fair thing to do, but -it is very, very seldom she duz a thing a minister would be ashamed -of doing. She is a oncommon child for goodness. I don’t say it -because she is my grandchild, not at all. But truth will out. She -has a remarkable sweet, even disposition, and as to morals--well! I -would like to see the child that would go ahead of her in morals. -Why, we couldn’t tempt her to touch a penny that didn’t belong to -her. And burglary, or arson, or rapine, why, nothin’ would tempt -her into it. She is a wonderful child. - -And she is jest as truthful as the day is long, that is, what she -calls truth. Everything is new to her and strange. The thoughts in -her little brain jest wakin’ up, and to a imaginative child the -dreams and fancies that fill her little mind, the child’s world -within, must seem as strange as the new strange things of the world -about her. - -It is all a untried mystery to her, and it stands to reason that -she can’t separate things all to once and put the right names to -’em all. The gay romances of the child’s fairy world within from -the colder reasonin’ of the world without. The child’s world is -purer than ourn, it is the only land of innocence and truth we -know in this dreary life. And it seems as if we would let our -souls listen to catch any whispers from that land, so sweet, so -evanescent. - -For there is the only perfect faith, unbounded, uncalculating, so -soon to be displaced by doubt. The only perfect innocence, the -blessed ignorance of wrong, so soon, so surely to be stained by the -knowledge of sin. The divine faith in other’s goodness so soon to -be dimmed by distrust. The gay, onthinkin’ happiness, so soon to -be darkened by sorrow and anxiety--the rosy hopes so soon to fade -away to the gray ashes of disappointment. Fair land! sunny time! -so bright, so fleetin’--it seems as if we should treat its broken -language, its strange fancies tenderly and reverently, rememberin’ -the lost time when we, too, were wandering in its enchanted -gardens. Rememberin’ that the gate of death must swing back before -we can again enter a world of such purity, such beauty. - -But we do not, we meet its pure and sweet unwisdom with our grim, -rebukin’ knowledge which we gained as Eve did, its innocent, -guileless ways with the intolerance of our dry old customs, its -broken fancies, its sweet romancin’ with cold derision or the -cruelty of punishment. It makes me fairly out of patience to think -on’t. - -It stands to reason, when everything under the sun is new and -strange to ’em, they can’t git all to once the meanin’ of every big -word in the Dictionary, and mebby they will git things a little -mixed sometimes. But how can they help it? Why, what if we should -be dropped right down into a strange country where we had never sot -our feet before and told to walk straight, and wuz punished every -time we meandered, when we didn’t know a step before us, or on each -side on us, how could we help meanderin’ a little, how could we -help sometimes talkin’ about the inhabitants of the world we wuz -accustomed to, usin’ its language? - -What we would need would be to be sot in the right way agin, with -patience, and over and over agin, and time and time agin. Patience -and long sufferin’ and reason is what we should need, and not -punishment, and that is what children need. - -Many a child is skairt and whipped into bein’ a hippocrite and -liar, when, if they had been encouraged to tell the truth--own up -their little faults and meanderin’s--and treated justly, patiently, -and kindly, they would have been as truthful and transparent -as rain water. Children have sharp eyes and are quick to see -injustice, and things sink deep into their little souls. They are -whipped if they don’t tell the truth, skaired dark nights with the -lurid passage--“Liars shall have their portion in the lake of fire -and brimstone.” - -And then they see their mother smile into some disagreeable -visitor’s face and groan at her back. How can the baby wisdom -part the smile from the groan, and find truth under ’em? How -can we? They are taught under fear of severest punishment to be -honest--“Thou shalt not steal.” And then, with their earliest -knowledge, they hear their mother boast of some advantage she has -gained over the shopkeeper, and their father congratulating himself -on how he got the better of his neighbor in a horse trade. And if -she be the child of a business man, happy for her if she does not -wonder at that sight strange to men and gods, to see her father -lose all his wealth one day, to rise up rich the next, rise up from -a crowd of poor men and wimmen he has cheated and ruined. - -She is taught that deceit is an abomination to the Lord. And then -she stands with her little eyes on a level with the washstand, and -sees her big sister paint and powder her face, darken her eyebrows, -and pad her lean form into roundness. She is taught the exceeding -sinfulness of envy, strife, and emulation. And then, in the same -breath, urged to commit to memory more Bible verses than little -Molly Smith has learned, and consulted about the number of ruffles -on her dress with the firm resolve to have one more than she has, -so as to be cleverer and look dressier than she duz. - -She is taught that God loves good children, and to flee from evil -communications, and then counseled to never by any means associate -with the washerwoman’s little girl, who is very good, but to play -with the banker’s little boy, who is very bad. - -She is taught by precept to be studious, industrious, and that -Heaven smiles on contented labor, and industry and independence are -honorable and to be desired, she hears her mother say solemnly, -“Wealth is a snare.” And then she sees that mother bow low at -the feet of the rich, stupid, idle wife of the millionaire, lose -all her dignity and self-respect in the wild effort to become -her friend, sees her refuse to recognize in public the honest, -intelligent sewing girl. - -She is taught that if she duz not learn the catechism and follow -its teachings, she is lost indeed, and she learns from that that -the chief end of man (and presumably wimmen) is to fear God and -enjoy Him forever. And then taught by the louder teaching of -maternal anxiety and counsel that the chief end of wimmen is to be -married, to get an establishment and a rich husband to support her. -How is the child to learn good from evil? God help the dear little -souls! and if they keep one iota of the sweet, oncalculatin’ trust, -the divine innocence of childhood, it is by the direct grace of -God, and no thanks to the poor worldlings and sinners by whom they -are surrounded. - -Amongst the marvelous wonders of God’s universe to me one of the -greatest mysteries is this, how a good God, a just, pitiful God, -should send into such hands as He duz such little white souls. - -Some frivolous young girl, whose highest thought and ambition has -never soared above her hair ribbon, some brainless boy, whose -deepest desire and highest aim has been to wear as small a boot -as he could, and contract hopeless debts for hair oil and cheap -cigars and whiskey. In some unhappy season, when circuses were -not possible, and wishing for a kindred excitement, they rush -into matrimony. And into these hands, joined by lowest links, -these hands defiled by sin, and weak with the utter weakness of -unreasonin’ selfishness and folly, is sent a little pure soul out -of Paradise. - -And this little child must grope in the dark shadows caused by the -denseness of their ignorance. Suffer forever physically, morally, -mentally from the evil, the total depravity of their hereditary -and teachings. Suffer herself and grow up in the black shadow to -transmit its hopeless darkness and guilt down to other generations. -Strange, strange, most marvelous of mysteries, why this should be -so. But I can’t bear to even look on this dretful picture even in -hours of eppisodin’, it is bad enough and strange enough to look in -Christian homes, amongst meetin’ house brothers and sisters, and -see how the little ones are maltreated. - -It looks dretful disagreeable to me, to see a young child whipped -for what we do ourselves. Now, I wuz at one of our neighbors’ the -other day (one of them that complains the most of our treatment of -little Delight), and she has got a young child of her own, some -four, or half-past four years of age. And when I went in she -wuz whippin’ little Kate with a stick, her face all swelled up -with what she called religious principle (I called it anger), but, -howsumever, it hain’t no matter what the name on’t wuz, her face -wuz all red and inflamed. And she, weighin’ from two to three -hundred pounds, wuz standin’ over that little mite of humanity, -that she herself brought into the world, for better or worse, stood -over it, grippin’ with one hard, red hand the little tender arm, -leavin’ great red marks with her voyalence, and layin’ on the stick -with the other, for she said she had lied. - -[Illustration: SHE WUZ WHIPPIN’ LITTLE KATE, HER FACE ALL SWELLED -UP WITH WHAT SHE CALLED RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. - - _Page 157._] - -“And lyin’,” sez she, with her face redder than ever with what she -called principle (and I called madness and revenge), “is sunthin’ I -won’t have goin’ on in this house!” - -Sez I calmly, for I see it wuzn’t my place to interfere, “What has -she been lyin’ about?” And she said she had told her to not stay -but a hour to Miss Bobbettses playin’ with her little girl, and she -had stayed two, had lied about it. She had promised to come back in -a hour and didn’t. “She said she forgot all about the time, till -the two hours wuz up, and I know she didn’t forgit!” - -Sez I, “How do you know she didn’t forgit?” - -“Why,” sez she, “how could she forgit when there wuz a clock right -in the room? She didn’t come back because she wanted to stay, and -she must own it up to me!” - -“But,” sez I calmly, “if the child did forgit you are whippin’ her -into lyin’ instead of out of it.” I didn’t say no more, for I never -interfere, and she took her out into the back room and finished up -there, and I heard Kate own up that she had stayed three hours and -meant to, and wuz sorry. - -And then her mother had to whip her agin because she had owned up -too much; finally she got her to own jest enough, and then Miss -Gowdey come back into the room triumphant and happy and give the -child a big piece of cake and jell. She said she always give the -child sunthin’ nice when she owned up to tellin’ a story. And so -she felt real good natered to think she had come off conqueror. And -we had a good visit. - -My bizness there wuz to ask her in a friendly way if she didn’t -want to run in with me to see Miss Patten. Miss Patten had got a -young child, and we hadn’t either on us seen it. And she said in -a agreeable way that she would, and she told her husband when we -went out she shouldn’t be gone only “jest an hour,” and told him to -hang on the teakettle at five, and she would be there to help set -the table. And she told little Kate to look at the clock, and when -the pinter stood at jest five her Ma would certain sure be there. -Well, Miss Patten wuz dretful agreeable, and so wuz Sam, that is -her husband, and so wuz old Miss Patten, who wuz there takin’ care -of Susan. And nothin’ to do but we had got to take our things off -and stay to supper. We hung back, for we had told our companions we -would be home to git supper in good season. - -Sez I, “I don’t like to disappoint Josiah.” - -“And I can’t disappoint my folks,” sez Miss Gowdey. - -“Oh, well,” sez old Miss Patten, “if they go through the world -without meetin’ a worse disappointment than that, I guess they’ll -git along. They can eat their suppers a little later.” - -“Oh,” sez I, “there is everything cooked in the house, all Josiah -would have to do would be to make a cup of tea.” - -And sez Miss Gowdey, “I have got everything all ready for supper, -and Mr. Gowdey can make a better cup of tea any day than I can, he -puts it in by the handful, he never uses a teaspoon.” - -“Then do stay!” sez Susan. - -And sez old Miss Patten, comin’ in from the kitchen (Nabby wuz -sick in the settin’ room bedroom), “you needn’t say another word, -the table is all sot for you. We have got stewed oysters and warm -biscuits and honey, and you have got to stay.” - -And she took our bunnets right off and galanted us into the dinin’ -room, and we did have a splendid supper. And there it wuz--we two -wimmen, both on us weighin’ most two hundred, and with half a -century’s experience--there we wuz doin’ jest what Miss Gowdey had -whipped little Kate for. That delicate creeter with her little mite -of judgment and her easiness to be led astray, and not weighin’ -over forty pounds. Well, the supper sort o’ took up our minds, and -we set at the table a good long while. And we didn’t want to start -off the minute we got through eatin’. But I did feel strange in -my mind thinkin’ it over, and, though they wuz dretful agreeable, -I sot round in my chair and looked at the clock, and Miss Gowdey -turned round and looked, and sez she: - -“Good land! if it hain’t eight o’clock. What will our folks say?” - -And sez I, “What will Josiah say?” And we started home a pretty -good jog. And Miss Gowdey sez, when we had got most to her house: - -“For the land’s sake! if we hain’t stayed away three hours.” - -And sez I in a cursory way, for I will not hint or meddle, “You -whipped little Kate for staying one hour beyend her time, and we -have stayed three.” - -“Well,” sez she, “I told her to be home in an hour.” - -“That is jest what she told you to do,” sez I. - -“And,” sez she, “she promised.” - -“So did you promise sacred.” - -Sez she, “A child is under greater obligations to her parents than -the parents are to her.” - -“I think they hain’t under half so much obligations, for it is -the parents doin’s gittin’ ’em here, the children didn’t git the -parents here, it is right the other way.” - -“Oh, well, it is different, anyway. Kate is a child, and we are -grown folks.” - -“So much more the reason for us that we should behave ourselves -and not go to lyin’ and bein’ led off into temptation as we have -to-night, Sister Gowdey. We are both Methodists.” - -The words sunk deep, I see they did, though she only sez: - -“I do hope Mr. Gowdey hain’t got supper, a man tears up things so -and wastes. I would as soon have a tornado sweep through my buttery -as to have a man sweep through it.” - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -Well, the next mornin’ Josiah come upstairs where I wuz makin’ up -the spare bed, I had had it open airin’ it, and sez he, comin’ into -the room excited and agitated: - -“Samantha, Delight has burnt up the world!” - -I had heard her cryin’ down below, but knew she wuz with him, -so didn’t worry about her, and the next thing I knew, ontirely -onexpected, he told me what had took place. The Babe had burnt up -the world. It wuz thrillin’ and agitatin’ news, very. But I didn’t -git excited and skairt as some wimmen would, I only sez coolly: - -“When did she burn it up, Josiah?” - -“Since you have been up here.” - -Sez I calmly, wantin’ to come to the bottom of the matter. “Did you -see her, Josiah Allen? Did you see Delight burn up the world?” - -“Yes, I see her. I ketched her at it. How should I know,” sez he, -in a surly tone, “that she had burnt it up, if I hadn’t seen her do -it?” - -“Oh,” sez I, “I didn’t know but you missed the world, and -mistrusted she had burnt it up.” - -“No, I see her at it, I see her burn it up.” - -Sez I calmly, bein’ determined to find out the truth, “How come she -to burn up the world?” - -“She did it to be mean and ort to be spanked for it.” - -Sez I firmly, “I don’t believe she did it to be mean. I believe if -she did it she did by axident.” - -“She didn’t do it by axident, she done it a purpose, and her -burnin’ up the world wuzn’t the worst of it, she wuz sassy about -it, and ort to be spanked for sass.” I gin him a stern look and -kind o’ shot up my lips clost together and tossted my head a very -little, but didn’t say a word. But he resented it for all the world -as if I had spoke, and there I hadn’t said a word. - -“Well, I say she had! she ort to be spanked for burnin’ up the -world, and she ort to be spanked for sass. But you can uphold her -if you want to.” - -“I hain’t said a word of upholdin’.” - -“Well, you encourage her in it, and you know you do.” - -“Encourage her! Josiah Allen!” - -“Yes, you uphold her in burnin’ up the world, and you uphold her in -sass.” - -“Have I said a word, Josiah Allen?” - -“You tossted your head, you know you did.” - -“Well,” sez I mildly, “things have got to a strange pass if -pardners can’t crook their necks a little when they are makin’ up -spare beds. And,” sez I in still more gentle axents, as I patted -the mattress and spread a light-colored comfortable over it, under -the sheets, “tell me all about it, Josiah.” - -“Well, I stepped out into the back kitchen to look for a file, and -when I come back she wuz jest burnin’ up the world, jest puttin’ it -into the stove.” - -“She see me start the fire with an old World yesterday mornin’, and -she thought she wuz follerin’ her Grandma’s doin’s and doin’ right.” - -“Uphold her if you want to! and uphold her for sass!” - -“What wuz the sass?” sez I mildly. - -“Well, I snapped her little fingers for puttin’ the paper into -the fire, and she cried, and drawed ’em back sudden, and I wuz so -afraid she would burn her that I put my hand sudden between her and -the fire and jest jammed my hand through the isinglass in the stove -and broke it all to smash and she stopped cryin’ and sez, ‘I am -glad Gappa broke the issac glass.’” - -I laughed a little, a very little, and couldn’t help it. She always -will call it “issac glass,” and if I try to make her say micas she -will call it “michols,” she is so cunning and cute. He didn’t like -my laughin’, I see he didn’t. - -Sez he, “I’d laugh if I wuz in your place, sunthin’ ort to be done -with her. I couldn’t git her to say she wuz sorry, do the best I -could. She will have to be punished.” - -“Punished for what?” sez I, as I shook up a piller and put a clean -piller bier on it. - -“Why, to make her say she is sorry.” - -Sez I, as I laid the shams on smooth and pinned ’em up agin the -head board, “Mebby she hain’t sorry.” - -“Hain’t sorry!” sez he, savage-like, “well, she ort to be, there -I ain’t hardly looked at it, and there is lots of news in it I -know. As many as seven or eight murders, most probable, and some -suicides, and hangin’s and such like, she ort to be sorry, and she -has got to say she is.” - -“Well,” sez I, a-smoothin’ the things out on the toilet table, “I -don’t think she ort to be made to say she is sorry if she hain’t -sorry. I believe lots of liars are made in jest that way; probable -she told you the truth when she said she wuzn’t sorry, and you -want to make her lie,” sez I dryly, “and whip her if she won’t. -She see me put a whole paper into the stove this mornin’, and how -could she tell the difference between this week’s paper and last? -If anybody is to blame we are, we ort to told her to not touch the -papers, and we must tell her to not touch the fire. And if I wuz -goin’ to punish her for anything it would be for meddlin’ with the -stove. I shouldn’t whip her for tellin’ the truth, that wouldn’t be -my way.” - -“Well, she ort to be punished for sass.” - -“I don’t believe she meant it for sass,” sez I, “I wouldn’t -interfere if you wuz correctin’ her. But I do not think she meant -it for sass.” - -“What did she mean it for, then?” - -“Why,” sez I, “I believe she said she wuz glad because she wuz -glad.” - -“Well, she hadn’t no bizness to said it, anyway, it didn’t sound -very good.” - -Sez I, “Josiah Allen, didn’t you ever speak out when you had hurt -you and wuz in pain, and say things that didn’t sound good, and -that you would like to take back if you could?” - -“No,” sez he, “I never did.” - -“Josiah Allen,” sez I, “can you say that with a clear conscience?” - -“Yes, I can, clear as a crystal fountain. I hain’t one of the kind -that fly all to pieces if I happen to bruise my thumb, or cut me, -or pound my fingers, some men do,” he admitted, “but I don’t, I -never say a word I don’t mean, I never say a word I would wish to -take back, no matter how severe the pain is.” - -Sez I firmly, “Josiah Allen you do, you prance round and act lots -of times.” - -“Oh, well, encourage her in burnin’ up the world if you want to, -and encourage her in sass. I spoze I can let it go.” He wuz fairly -dyin’ to let it go, I knew, he jest worships her. But I continued, -for I wuz rousted up in my mind. Sez I: - -“Little Delight is in our power, we are physically stronger than -she is. We can whip her all day if we want to. But duz it look -noble and honorable in us to punish that little mite of a thing for -what we do ourselves?” - -“I don’t do it,” sez he. - -Sez I, “She is only three years old, she has got everything to -learn, she can’t endure pain as she can when she is older. She -didn’t know she had done wrong, and you, instead of reasonin’ with -her, and settin’ her right, skairt her, and hurt her hands, and -she wuz actually glad I’ve no doubt to think that you broke the -stove. She thought you wuz unjust, and wuz indignant at that, and -surprised and frightened to think you wanted to hurt her, you who -had always been so good to her, and loved her so well, and she -spoke out quick and impatient, jest as you and I do sometimes, -Josiah Allen, and we have had a lifetime to learn patience and -endurance.” - -I see he wuz some convinced, but wouldn’t own it, and he sez agin, -in a cross tone (about as cross as a cross gut saw, his tone had -been like a bayinet or spear), sez he, “She no need to burnt up the -world.” - -Sez I over agin, “She hadn’t no idee what she wuz doing, she -thought she wuz follerin’ her Grandma’s doin’s and doin’ right. But -because it hurt your own comfort a little mite----” - -“A little mite!” sez he, groanin’, “and there it wuz full of -tragedies, I dare presume to say, and salts and butteries, and -burglaries.” - -“Because she did sunthin’ that interfered with your comfort when -she hadn’t the least idee of its bein’ wrong you pounced at her and -hurt her, and want her whipped. And the other day, Josiah Allen, -when she did do a little sunthin’ we had told her not to, because -she did it in such a cunnin’ way, you laughed, and wuz mad because -I spoke of punishin’ her for it.” - -“Well, I spoze you want me to say that I think it is right for her -to burn up the world, but you won’t git me to.” But his axent wuz -gittin’ smoother, it wuz about as smooth as a gimlet hole now. - -Sez I, “I believe in punishin’ children when they persist in -wrongdoin’. But I always believe in findin’ out whether they have -done wrong or not, and then in the next place try to punish ’em, -not for revenge and to satisfy our own feelin’s, but to do them -good, break ’em of wrongdoin’. And if you can talk them out of it -it seems so much more noble and dignified than it duz to pound ’em. -It duz somehow look so disagreeable to see a great strong man or -woman weighin’ two hundred or so standin’ over a little mite of a -thing that can’t help itself anyway, whippin’ it.” - -“Solomon sez,” sez Josiah, “spare the rod and spile the child.” - -“Well,” sez I, “if I wuz in Solomon’s place----” And then thinkses -I the least said the soonest mended, and I thought I wouldn’t say -anything agin Solomon and his havin’ so many wives, and actin’, and -shet my lips up tight. - -“Solomon what?” sez Josiah. - -“Nothin’,” sez I. - -And again he sez, “What? Solomon what?” - -And again I sez, “Nothin’, Solomon nothin’.” And havin’ got all -through upstairs, I went down and went to sweepin’ out the parlor, -and jest as quick as I got that done, I went to gittin’ dinner (at -Josiah’s request, who said he hadn’t eat much breakfast, though I -didn’t know it and told him so). But he built a fire in the kitchen -for that purpose, and I got an excellent dinner, nice tender steak, -and stewed tomatoes, and smashed potatoes, and apple dumplin’s -that would melt in your mouth, and lemon sauce to eat on ’em, and -delicious coffee. - -Josiah wuz happy in his mind, though some in pain owin’ to the last -four dumplin’s. And that wuz the last I ever hearn of any anger -on his part about the world’s burnin’ up. Well, they come after -Delight that very night, and we both hated to have her go, it wuz -awful lonesome without her. Though it wuz a great comfort to know -that she wuz comin’ up a week from the next Saturday to stay over -Sunday with us. We looked forward to it. - -The very next day after Delight went home I wuz in the settin’ room -mendin’ my Josiah’s best galluses, the buckles had come off, and -I wuz settin’ there as cool as the buckles (which wuz nickle) and -as collected together as the galluses after I had got ’em mended, -when all of a sudden the door bust open with a bang, and in come -my companion Josiah from the barn, with a splinter under his thumb -nail, jest as mad as a hornet, as a man always is when he gits -hurt, and he danced and jumped over the floor like a lunatick and -hollered out, “It is all your dumb doin’s, Samantha! if it hadn’t -been for you the board wouldn’t been there!” - -Sez I calmly, for frequent seens like this had gin me knowledge, “I -didn’t put it there, Josiah.” - -“No, but if you had any eyes in your head you would seen there wuz -splinters in it, and I couldn’t be liftin’ it round without gittin’ -’em under my thumb!” - -“I didn’t know you wuz goin’ to lift it, Josiah.” - -“You ort to know it! I wuz liftin’ it after hens’ eggs, I thought I -would see if there wuz any under the barn before I piled the straw -on the floor, and if it wuzn’t for you I wouldn’t keep a dum hen on -the place! And if I ever git so I can use this hand agin,” sez he -a-wavin’ it out kinder ferocious-like, “I’ll brain every dum one -of ’em, there never shall a hen step her dum foot on my farm agin -after to-day!” - -“Well, well, do keep still, Josiah Allen, how can I git this sliver -out and you prancin’ round so?” - -“Oh, yes, keep right on, jaw me all you want to, keep right on -jawin’ and talkin’, and not let me have a minute’s rest. And let me -faint away on your hands. Oh, gracious heavens! can’t you stab a -little deeper!” - -“Why, you wanted me to prick it out, Josiah.” - -In other times I should have rebuked him sharply for swearin’, -but truly a woman learns after twenty years experience in married -life that there is a time for scoldin’ and a time to refrain from -scoldin’. I knew that until that sliver wuz out and the pain eased -off there would be no more use reasonin’ with Josiah Allen than -there would be with a wild hyena, for when pain enters into a man’s -system (a ordinary man) it drives reason out of it, and common -sense and decency. - -After a while I got the sliver out and did it up in Pond’s extract, -he groanin’ and jumpin’ and blamin’ me for it every minute. Why, he -told me in one of the worst twinges that if it wuzn’t for me there -wouldn’t be a hemlock board on the premises, anyway. And there I -never had to my recollection said the word “hemlock” to him. But I -knew that jest the minute he got cooled off, his sense would return -and his affection for me (he had acted all the while jest as if I -wuz prickin’ him a-purpose, and talked to that effect, and seemed -mad at me as he could be). But I sot demute, and he didn’t like -that, his state wuz such. Sez he: - -“Set there and not say a word, will you! I should think if a man -lay dead at your door you would speak up and say sunthin’, but no, -you don’t care enough about it to say a word. Oh, gracious Peter! -did any human bein’ ever suffer what I am sufferin’!” - -And then he jumped up and stumbled over a stool and most fell and -yelled out at me settin’ there peaceful, “Put that stool in my way, -will you! I’ll clear this house of every stool to-morrow if I’m -alive! the one that made that man-ketcher is a fool!” - -And so it went on for most an hour, but Josiah got over it jest as -soon as the pain stopped, he acted like a new man. And he asked -me of his own accord before night if I didn’t want to buy a new -kind of hens, if I thought best he would buy some Shanghais and -Ayrshires. Josiah is a clever critter pretty near half the time, -and before he slept he offered to buy me a new stool, or two of -’em, covered with rep. Good land! it all come out jest as I knew -it would, I had passed through too many cryses jest like it to be -skaired. Why, when I married Josiah Allen I took all these resks, I -knew how it would be, my father wuz a man, and so wuz my youngest -brother and Uncle John, and I had lived in the house with ’em all. -I don’t blame Josiah so very much, I don’t spoze he could help -actin’. - -Now, wimmen can’t help actin’ in some respects, such as this, if -company comes through the front gate onexpected, she can’t help -smoothin’ back her front hair if every hair lay as smooth as satin, -it is nater for her to go through the motions. And she can’t help -jumpin’ if she sees a mouse as if she wuz afraid of her life, -though it hain’t reasonable to expect that her life is jeapordized -and she will be attackted by it. And it is nater for her to kiss a -pretty baby and scold a boy voyalently who is stunnin’ a kitten or -a bird. Why, some things come jest as nateral as Nater herself, and -can’t be helped no more than she can. Josiah hain’t alone in his -actin’ and behavin’. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -Accordin’ to promise Tamer Ann brung Jack to stay a few days with -me while she went on to her Aunt Nancy John’s. Her Aunt Nancy don’t -like children, bein’ nervous and highstericky, but she is a rich -woman and Tamer has expectations from her, and goes there quite a -good deal and makes of her. She is Tamer’s great aunt, and is one -of two widders of the same name, so to tell ’em apart we call ’em -Aunt Nancy John and Aunt Nancy Joe. - -Jack wuz awful tickled to git to our house, and I wuz glad enough -to see him. And he played round jest as good as a child could all -the afternoon, and eat a good supper, and that night before he went -to bed he come and leaned his curly head on my shoulder, and talked -real confidential to me. - -Tamer is a Piscopal, or, that is, what religion she’s got is of -that persuasion. I know Piscopals that are perfectly devoted -Christians and samplers for any one to foller, but with Tamer I -guess it don’t strike in very deep, though she duz go through the -motions in meetin’ wonderful for one of her age, and with all the -diseases she’s got on her, gittin’ up and kneelin’ down with the -best on ’em. And she’s real strict about follerin’ some of the -rules and wants her family to; she had told me some time ago about -the trouble she had with Jack keepin’ Lent, sez she: - -“You know we ort to give up our own wills and do what is pleasin’ -to the Lord in Lent, and I have the greatest trouble to make the -children see the necessity of it as I do, and I am so particular to -keep it,” sez she. - -Thinkses I, Tamer Ann Allen, if you should try to do the Lord’s -will through one day of Lent you wouldn’t try to make your only -girl live a lie the rest of her life, and let your oldest boy go to -ruin down the path of dime novels and cigarettes. Why, every one of -the troubles she had pinted out to me wuz nothin’ bad in Jack at -all, only the sins of ignorance which we read are winked at. But -not a wink would Tamer give, not a wink. She had complained awful -about his irreverence in prayer time and his utter refusal to give -up pie and leave butter offen his bread durin’ Lent. “Why,” sez -she, “when I asked him what he would give up he said apples, he -guessed, he didn’t love ’em, and he said he would give up bathin’, -too, and soap, and havin’ his hair combed, the idee!” - -“Did you explain it, Tamer Ann, what Lent wuz for, and why he -should make his little sacrifices?” - -“No, it is enough for me to tell Jack what to do; he has no right -to inquire into my reasons.” - -“But,” sez I, “didn’t you inquire into what you called his -irreverence at prayer time?” - -“I inquired into it with a good switch, that’s what I did, for I -will not have irreverence and irreligion goin’ on in my house.” - -Well, as I said, Jack come to me that night and laid his head -against my shoulder, and I told him he must be a good boy, and I -asked him why it wuz that he didn’t want to say his prayers. He had -been in real good sperits, but the minute I begun to talk about -that he kinder whimpered out, “I don’t want to everykneeshallbow, -and I told Ma that I didn’t, I don’t know what it is and don’t want -to talk about it, and I told Ma so, and then she said I’d got to, -and then I got mad and I told her I won’t everykneeshallbow, and -then she whipped me. And what is it, anyway?” - -“Say it slower, Jack,” sez I. - -“Every-knee-shall-bow,” sez he. - -And then it come to me, “Every knee shall bow.” And I went on -and told him about the great kind Ruler who made him and all the -pleasant things that he had ever enjoyed, and how it is writ down -that every knee shall bow to Him. - -“Well, I’ll do that,” sez Jack. “I will kneel to Him now, I didn’t -know what it meant, and Ma wuz too busy to tell me, and I got mad -and wouldn’t ask anybody else. And there is sunthin’ else that I -wanted to know awfully, and I wish you would tell me.” That poor -little creeter trusted me it seemed more than he did any other -person, and I felt greatly complimented by it, as much as if a -President or King had paid compliments to me. - -“What is the Miz that Ma makes me pray about in church?” - -“The Miz?” sez I. - -“Yes, the sea and all that in the Miz. I didn’t want to pray about -that, for I thought it wuz sunthin’ big and kinder fuzzy. What is -it, anyway?” - -And then I told him about the same great Ruler, who ruled over the -land and sea, and all that in them is. And he went to bed quite -happy and promised to say his prayers good, and I believe he did. -Poor little creeter! - -Well, he stayed two days and had an awful good time, and Josiah -and I enjoyed it jest as much as he did, and the next day, -accordin’ to promise, I took Jack over to Tirzah Ann’s and Tamer -wuz goin’ to stop and visit her and Thomas J. on her way back -from Aunt Nancy John’s. I made a good call at Tirzah’s and see a -new sass dish she had got and admired it, and a shirt waist, and -then I left Jack happy enough to play with Delight, and called at -Maggie’s, and Miss Greene Smythe wuz there, she had come to the -office to see Thomas Jefferson and wuz waitin’ for him to come -home, he wuz expected every minute from Loontown. I inquired in -a polite way after her children, and she said that Angenora wuz -feelin’ rather nervous to-day, she wuz out to a child’s party the -night before and didn’t git home till two o’clock. - -“That child,” sez I, “out till two o’clock!” - -“Yes,” she said, “Jimmy De Graffe, a boy from the city, gave the -party, he lives near us at home and wuz devoted to Angenora; he -sent her a valentine last year which wuz a perfect love letter, -and one thing that makes Angenora feel so bad to-day, there wuz a -little girl there from the city who had on a much prettier dress -that hers--Angenora’s wuz white silk with only five ruffles on it, -and the little girl’s wuz pink silk with seven ruffles, and Jimmy -paid her much more attention than he did Angenora. It almost broke -her heart, she is just about sick to-day.” - -Sez I to myself, fashion, love-disappointments, jealousies, -heartburnings, despair, emotions that child hadn’t ort to know -the names on for years and years. Emotions big enough and sad -enough to swamp lives well seasoned by years and experience, -all being suffered by that baby, who ortn’t to have an anxiety -above peanuts and the multiplication table, blind man’s buff and -puss-in-the-corner, for years and years, the idee on’t! Why, -what heart will that child bring to her lessons, her Elementary -Arithmetic all mixed up with problems about flirtin’ and social -supremacy, her Gography full of countries that can’t be bounded, -realms of jealousy, hatred and strife, her plain readin’ and -spellin’ full of readin’ and spellin’ that grown folks can’t read -or spell straight to save their lives. What will remain to that -child when she gits to be a young woman? All the emotions of youth -outgrown and wasted, she will be old at fourteen, a worn-out old -young flirt when she enters her teens. The pleasant care-free land -of childhood trompled down and destroyed, the lovely playgrounds of -youth and happiness turned into campin’ ground for worldly discord -and strife, it makes me feel bad to think on’t. - -But Miss Greene Smythe went on, “Jimmy De Graffe seemed to think so -much of Angenora, she thought it wuz real mean for him to pay all -his devoirs to another girl.” - -“Devoirs!” sez I, “the idee of them children payin’ devoirs, but -it is well named, for these carry-ins on, fashionable midnight -parties, child flirtations, etc., do jest devour all that is sweet -and lovely in children, all their unconscious grace and artless -innocence, and dear little ignorant wise ways, why,” sez I, -“Angenora ort to look on boys only as comrades and playfellows for -years and years to come, not lookin’ on ’em different from girls -only that they are stronger and can run faster and climb trees -better.” - -Well, I went away pretty soon, for my pardner come from the post -office and thought we had better be goin’, but I kep thinkin’ all -the way home on that triumphant child flirt, and Angenora sad and -melancholy, and the idee of bo’s and flirtin’ that wuz planted in -the minds and hearts of babies, destroyin’ the childish mirth -and good comradeship that should exist in happy freedom between -children of both sects. Pictures of pretty playful hours between -Jack and Delight come to my mind some as you see pictures in a -magic lantern, and one of the very prettiest ones come to me as I -washed and wiped my dishes that night, Josiah doin’ his barn chores -at the same time. - -It took place the February before, February the fourteenth, the -day when Angenora wuz writin’ and receivin’ lover-like epistles -from young old men of nine or ten years of age, I thought with -satisfaction and happiness of this pretty seen that had took place -in our own home. Jack and Delight had been stayin’ a week with me, -and I had noticed for a day or two before that the children had had -a good deal of mysterious talkin’ between ’em, and there seemed to -be a secret they wuz tryin’ to keep from me; I see ’em countin’ -their pennies, and once I hearn Jack say, “All together we’ve got -leven cents.” - -And then Delight sez, “We can get a splendid one for that.” But the -minute they ketched sight of me they stopped talkin’ in a dretful -elaborate way, put their fingers to their lips, and shook their -heads, and nodded towards me and Josiah, and I see it wuz sunthin’ -connected with us, and I made a point at once of not seein’ or -hearin’ ’em at all. And that is one of the greatest secrets of -life and success, the nack of not hearin’ things. It is almost as -necessary in order to git along smooth and pleasant to not hear -things as it is to hear ’em. - -Lots of times if you hear and see things, sass, for instance, from -help, I mean, little bits of sass that will spill out of the big -dish of daily worry sometimes, why, if you see that sass you have -got to pay attention to it, and wipe it up with admonition and -reproof, or ruther make them that dropped it there clean it up -with apology and atonement, which will take time and strength and -nerves, but if you don’t see it, why it will evaporate, and the -dish will right itself up of itself, in eight cases out of ten it -will. - -And children, bless their dear souls! how many times it is a -positive boon to not see their little acts or hear their little -words. If you see the small feet wanderin’ for a minute from the -highway in search of some butterfly, or, ruther, why you’ve got -to pull ’em back agin by main strengh. But if you don’t see ’em -why they will come back of their own little accords, most always, -and save their temper and yours. And so with their outbursts of -discontent and annoyance, if you hear it you have got to rebuke and -chasten, but if you don’t hear it, why, good land! it is all over -in a minute. - -And the best way to teach, anyway, is object teachin’. Make -yourself the object, try to do right yourself with fear and -tremblin’, and make a sampler of yourself for the children to work -their poor little pieces of life’s canvas by. That is the best way -of teachin’ on earth and the surest (sometimes I do eppisode even -in my reveries and have to resoom forwards agin). - -Well, this wuz the day but one before Valentine’s day, and the -children beset Josiah to take ’em to Jonesville, and Josiah -promised he would. - -But it turned out to be a turrible stormy day, blowin’, snowin’ too -bad for anybody to be out, and Josiah didn’t go. The children wuz -fearful disappinted, their little faces wuz sad and overcasted, and -I got a extra good dinner, and when I fried cakes I fried every -animal I ever hearn on, unless it wuz a Bengal tiger, for ’em, and -it seems some as if I fried him, but I won’t be certain. But even -this immense menagerie didn’t seem to fill ’em with the joy it ort, -but towards night they begun to brighten up some. I see their two -curly heads clost together, the light and the dark, talkin’ over -some project big to them, and then they’d look at Josiah and me -dretful meanin’ and nod their heads to each other in a knowin’ way, -their little faces all lighted up agin. - -And they seemed to be in full and frequent communication with our -hired man, and then the two little heads, the dark lustrous one -with threads of gold runnin’ through the dark curls, and the light -flaxen one with threads of mornin’ sunshine wove into the long -flaxen waves, these heads would nestle clost together agin as if in -deep thought and endeavor. - -Well, the mornin’ of Saint Valentine’s day wuz bright and sunshiny, -the long rays of gold light crept into our room through the white -curtain edged with lace of my own knittin’, and through them same -curtains I could see the great masses of warm light in the east -like a pink and gold carpet spread out for the sun to walk up into -the day on as he come up to light the world. - -I wuz jest layin’ and thinkin’ how beautiful and glorious it all -wuz, and also with one corner of my mind wonderin’ when Josiah -laid out to git up, and whether he had got enough kindlin’ wood -the night before, when I heard two little taps at the bedroom door -and Josiah waked up. And before we could even ask who wuz there, -in come Jack and little Delight in their long white nightdresses. -Jack slept upstairs in the room with the hired man, and Delight -slept in a little room offen ours. But there them two beautiful -little creeters stood right in the rays of mornin’ light, hand in -hand, with faces as grave and earnest as if the hull weight of -the President’s cares lay on their curly heads. And as we looked -up and see ’em, they advanced hand in hand and made two bows, the -most stupendious and wonderful bows I ever see or hearn on, why -their little noses most grazed the floor, they wuz that deep and -impressive, and then they repeated both on ’em in their sweet, -fresh little voices: - - “The rose is red, the vilets blue, - The pink is pretty, and so are you. - My pen is poor, my ink is pale, - My love for you shall never fail.” - -And then they made agin them solemn deep bows and walked out of the -room still holdin’ hands. And Josiah and I kinder smiled a little -after they went out, not before them, no, not for a silver dollar -would I laughed before them, and I sez, “This is our valentine, -Josiah.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “and a prettier one never went through a post -office.” - -“That’s so,” sez I, “unless it wuz the one you sent me with the -roses and forget-me-nots on it the year before we wuz married.” And -all the time Josiah wuz buildin’ the fire, and while I wuz gittin’ -breakfast I thought of how the blossoms of life are scattered down -through all the seasons of the year and of life. The roses that -come with that valentine of Josiah’s had faded, the frosts of -thirty years had stole the pretty pink tinge offen ’em, and the -years had gone by, long years, long years, and youth wuz past. - -But, good land! could anything be so sweet and beautiful as the -valentine that had come to us on this February morning, when the -gray hairs lay thick on my own head, and my poor Josiah’s head -wuz bare beneath the touch of Time’s hand, which had been strokin’ -him down for so long a time. I told the children at the breakfast -table, as they sot in their little high chairs opposite to Josiah -and me, and my face wuz jest as earnest and good as I could make it: - -“You couldn’t have pleased us so well with any other valentine in -the world, there couldn’t be one bought anywhere that we should -have liked half so well--could there, Josiah?” - -“No,” sez he, “not one; there hain’t a valentine in the hull -country that could compare with the one we got this mornin’.” - -And then the children bust right out laughin’, they wuz so tickled -to think we liked it, and they laughed partly, I think, because -I had gin each on ’em a little glass dish of honey as a treat on -account of the valentine. Bless their sweet hearts! could any other -valentine be tinged with the light of love that gilt ourn? Could -any picture match the lustrous tenderness of the soft gray eyes, -and soft mornin’ glory blue ones? Could any gold-edged paper equal -the glint of the golden hair, could any page equal the pink tinge -of the rosy cheeks, and the white forwards and necks, and little -pink toes stickin’ out under their nightgowns as our dear little -valentines come to us in the fresh morning light, warmin’ up the -coldness of a February morning? - -Well, a few days after this Josiah told me he had seen Mrs. Greene -Smythe to Thomas Jefferson’s office, and she wanted to see me on a -little bizness, and wanted me to come in when I wuz up that way, as -she understood I wuz quite often, she wanted to consult me about a -Charity Bazar. Well, the word charity is always a-takin’ one with -me, for in that incomparable chapter I love so well it describes -all the graces at full length, and then sez, “The greatest of these -is Charity.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -It wuzn’t long after this that Josiah had to go over to South -Scriba to sell some spruce lumber, he wanted to dicker for some -salted white fish, they ketch sights of white fish to the lake, -and by goin’ a little round we could go right by the summer hotel -where Miss Greene Smythe wuz stayin’. The hotel wuz a big buildin’ -standin’ in large, beautiful grounds; it wuz the biggest hotel in -the place, and she had the hull floor of one wing, lived there -jest as independent as you please with her own servants, and her -daughter, Medora, and the young twins, Algernon and Angenora. - -Josiah left me there, and, as I wuz waitin’ to be showed up to her -room, I hearn the twins fightin’ fiercely at the head of the stairs -and kickin’ each other and swearin’ like two young pirates at the -top of their voices, and while I wuz lookin’ on in astonishment a -girl come runnin’ downstairs and yanked ’em back, one in each hand, -and swore at ’em, for I hearn her with my own ears, and scolded -’em like a termagant. I spoze it wuz their French nurse, for her -swearin’ had a kinder queer axent. Well, I sot there quite a spell -while the man went to see whether Miss Greene Smythe wuz to home; -he wuz gone a awful while. - -And while I sot there a good lookin’ woman, with a rather sharp -chin and nose, come along, and sot down in a chair near me, she -come in jest as the girl dragged ’em off, quarrelin’ and usin’ -words I wouldn’t speak for a dollar bill. And this woman went on -and told me things I hated to hear--I didn’t ask her, she told of -her own accord. - -Sez she, “Miss Greene Smythe makes a great show, and don’t want to -even speak to folks full as good as she is.” And here she tosted -her head quite a good deal. “But if she would spend some of the -time on her children she spends on fashion and them everlastin’ -young men danglin’ round her, she would be less apt to have a -gallows rared up in her family.” She said she didn’t believe -there ever wuz such a actin’ child in the hull world as Algernon. -Angenora, she said, wuz better dispositioned to start with, but -wuz bein’ spilte by Algernon’s plaguin’ her so. She had got so she -would swear and kick almost as loud and hard as he would while he -wuz fightin’ her. - -“Well,” sez I, “they’re little things, they don’t know any better.” - -“I know it,” sez she, “their nurses are ugly dispositioned, both -on ’em, and they’re jest as mean as they can be to the children, -though they keep ’em clean enough. But,” she said they wuz ignorant -as might be expected, and used so many slang words and low phrases -the children had ketched their language and oaths, so their talk -wuz more like a pirate’s children or a buckaneer’s than the -children of Christian parents. “And fight!” sez she, she didn’t -believe there wuz a bigger fighter on earth than Algernon for his -age. And lie! why, Algernon’s nurse, she said, wuz such a liar that -she fairly seemed to prespire untruth through her pores, and them -children wuz with her all the time and breathed her atmosphere, -drinkin’ it down with their milk (they wuz both brung up on a -bottle, Miss Greene Smythe thinkin’ it more genteel). And Algernon -would lie now in such a picturesque, dashin’ way as to fairly stunt -anybody to hear it. - -And Angenora follered on as fast as her temperament and nateral -nater would let her. She said the children wuz with the nurses most -all the time, for Miss Greene Smythe and Medora wuz out nights, -and when they wuz to home they didn’t seem to have time to pay any -attention to the children, and she said little Angenora herself -wuz out nights sometimes till one and two o’clock to children’s -parties, and eat rich stuff and drunk coffee and champagne at -midnight, and that wuz another thing that made her so bad lately. - -Sez I, “Our grandchildren have parties, but they invite their -little comrades of both sects to come in the afternoon, and they -play games, blind man’s buff, and tag, and they have swings, and -they play with dolls and balls and marbles jest like the babies -they are, and at six o’clock they have a good hullsome supper, -sweet bread and butter, and a little briled chicken mebby, and -one kind of good plain cake baked and frosted in pretty shapes to -please the childish eye, and plenty of ripe fruit, oranges, etc., -and a little candy, and good chocolate with cream in it to drink, -and they home by sundown, happy and tired, a good, healthy tire, -that makes ’em sleep like tops and wake up refreshed to meet the -mornin’ greetin’ of the rising sun, ready and willin’ to tackle -their lessons or their play agin.” - -Well, she said, “That wuzn’t Miss Greene Smythe’s way, and,” sez -she, “it is killin’ Angenora, her little head is gittin’ weak, and -she is jest on the pint of nervous prostration and heart failure.” - -“Heart failure and nervous prostration at nine years of age!” sez I -convelsively. - -“Yes,” sez she, “and you’ll see I’m right, though her mother -wouldn’t pay any attention if I should speak to her about it. -She don’t see me half the time,” sez she, “right when I meet her -face to face.” She stood ready, I could see, to talk aginst Miss -Greene Smythe, but I wuzn’t goin’ to jine in it, but I felt dretful -worried about what she had told me, and sez: - -“How duz Algernon stand it?” - -“Oh, he won’t go,” sez the woman; “he jest swears and throws -himself and acts so his Ma has gin up tryin’ to make him go. He sez -he hain’t a-goin’ to dance with girls and stay out all night for -nobody; and he is so ugly dispositioned they dassent try to make -him do what he don’t want to.” - -“Well,” sez I, “ugly or not, he shows good sense in that.” But at -that minute the man returned and told me Miss Greene Smythe wuz -to home, and I followed him upstairs. Medora wuz away for a week -or so at some other resort, and Miss Greene Smythe wuz alone, and -she seemed quite glad to see me. She give me a big easy chair, and -almost to once begun to consult me about the entertainment. - -Sez she, “I shall have musicians and elocutionists from the city, -there will be a big special train to bring the guests down, but I -would like also to please the natives, if I could. I am bound to -have the biggest affair of the season, and everybody who comes of -course will feel bound to buy something.” - -And I sez reasonable, “I don’t believe that there are any natives -round here, not more than one, anyway--I hearn there is one -old Injun basket maker tentin’ in the woods back of Sylvester -Bobbettses, but it hain’t no ways likely he will come.” - -She sez, “I mean the folks that live round here.” - -“Oh,” sez I, “I guess they will turn out first rate, it is a real -charitable place here.” - -“I want your help,” sez she; “do help me by talkin’ it up to -people, won’t you?” - -And I told her I would, “For,” sez I, “Charity never faileth, and,” -sez I, “if I wuz not interested in charity I should feel like -soundin’ brass and tinklin’ cymbal, not that I know what a cymbal -is, but suppose it is a brass horn.” - -“Yes,” sez she, “charity for the heathen is the main work of -course, but socially I want it to be a great success.” - -I had told her, when I first went in, that I couldn’t stay -long, and had refused to take off my bunnet, so pretty soon she -mentioned she wuz goin’ to a lawn party to a neighborin’ hotel -that afternoon, and asked me if I would feel hurt if she went on -dressin’ while she talked to me, and I told her no, and I sez, -“Josiah is liable to come any minute, he’ll come jest as soon as he -makes his dicker.” - -So her maid proceeded to put on her shoes, she had got her -underclothes all on and wuz in her dressin’ jacket and slippers. -She had handsome silk stockin’s on, embroidered beautiful, but she -wuz cut out for a big, fat woman, and her feet wuz big, they wuz -at the least calculation number five feet, but the shoe that maid -tried to get on them feet wuzn’t more than number three. I see the -efforts for quite a spell and didn’t say a word, why her feet wuz -squooze to that extent that her toes any good excuse for makin’ a -lame martyr of herself. - -“Oh, they would make light, and say I wuzn’t fashionable.” - -And I sez, “I believe I could bear that better than I could what -you’re sufferin’ now. But I don’t believe they would notice ’em, -I believe you could wear a shoe big enough for your feet, so you -could walk and enjoy life, and nobody would find it out, nobody -would ever think to look and tell on’t.” - -“Oh, yes, they would,” sez she, “they would laugh.” - -“Well, mebby you would be in a condition to laugh yourself, which -you are fur from bein’ now,” sez I pityin’ly. But I couldn’t -convince her, and she stood up on them pinted toes and high, slim -heels, and waddled off to the bed where her dress wuz. - -And then follered another battle between mind and matter, between -too compressed matter, namely a big, fat waist, and a small but -firm minded cosset and waist. For a long time the victory seemed -to be on the side of the fat body, but it had to gin in, the last -button wuz drawed to, the last fortress of flesh, which resisted -to the death, wuz overcome and crowded in, and the steel walls of -the prison told no tales of the agony within. Heavy skirts wuz -adjusted and draped about the achin’ form, the long train lay out -on the carpet, and the number six hands crowded into the number -four gloves, and Miss Greene Smythe wuz ready to go and enjoy -fashionable life. She said she wouldn’t go until dear Mr. Allen -come, but we would go and sit down on the balcony, where it would -be pleasanter than here. - -Well, as we sot there in that upper piazza we could hear plain the -voices of Algernon and his nurse, and occasionally the voice of -Angenora, enough to show she wuz there, and we heard swear words -and nasty words, lots of ’em, words that our grandchildren, in -their love-guarded home, had never dremp of and wouldn’t as long as -their Pa’s and Ma’s and grandparents had eyes to see and ears to -hear. Miss Greene Smythe looked up to me and sez, “I am ashamed of -the way that boy talks, but he got it from his nurse, she is good -as gold in some things, but has got a voylent temper, and when she -is angry she uses awful language, but she don’t have her mad fits -often.” - -And I sez, “Hain’t you afraid it will ruin the twins to be under -such influence now in the most impressionable age?” - -And she admitted she had worried some about it, and sez she, -“I should got rid of her long ago, but she is a be-a-uti-ful -hairdresser, that wuz her father’s bizness, and her mother wuz a -dressmaker, and she has natural taste about dress. And you know -if hair don’t have proper attention it will lose its gloss and -won’t friz as it ought to. And, as for loopin’ up drapery, I have -never seen that woman’s equal in my life, my maid is jest nowhere -beside her. And goin’ into society as much as I do, you can see how -necessary it is I should have some one right in the house that I -can depend on, that I can put confidence in as to the hanging of my -skirt, and my bangs.” - -“Well,” sez I, in a ruther cold axent, “if you don’t see curiouser -loopin’s and bangs in the twin’s heads and hearts bime-by than any -you ever had in a dress or foretop, then I’ll miss my guess.” And -I went on and argued with her for quite a spell for the children’s -good. - -I tried hard to make her think that the well-doin’ of her children, -and the immortal destiny of their souls, wuz of more consequence -than the puckerin’s of her dress, or the frizzle of her hair, but -I couldn’t seem to make her think as I did, and so I spoze it will -have to go on. That girl’s nasty mad swearin’ talk settin’ the -example, and the twins follerin’ on and workin’ it out as plain -as my grandmother ever worked a blue rose and pink horse from a -exampler at school and framed it for us to look at. I knew the -sampler the twins wuz workin’ under that woman’s teachin’ wuz goin’ -to be framed in a stronger frame than I ever sot eyes on and hung -on a higher wall. I felt bad, I knew that the frame wuz as strong -as a deathless life, and the wall high as eternity. - -Little Angenora’s nurse wuzn’t so fiery dispositioned as -Algernon’s. But she give her opiates to make her sleep when she -wanted to go out with her bo’s, and hurt her body in that way, and -others I don’t want to talk about, but mebby she didn’t hurt her -soul so much as she did Algernon’s, ’tennyrate it didn’t show quite -so plain now, she didn’t swear so loud as he did, nor throw herself -so heavy. - -But the opiates made the little creeter look wan and pale and -sleepy more’n half the time, and I said to Miss Greene Smythe -in this conversation, it seemed a shame to have her little -constitution all ruined in that way onbeknown to her, before she -wuz old enough to defend it. But she said she guessed she didn’t -give Angenora very much, she wuz a pale child naturally. - -But I see her attention wuz wanderin’ from what I wuz sayin’ to -sunthin she wuz beholdin’ on the inside of her mind, and anon she -asked me if I could tell her where she could find a perfectly -white Spitz dog with a black ring around its neck. - -And I sez in a kind of impatient way, for I didn’t like to be broke -up in my high minded, conscientious talk, “I don’t know anything -about such a pup.” - -Sez she, “I didn’t really suppose you would, but I am so anxious to -git one I improve every opportunity to inquire. They are the height -of fashion, and, while I am obliged to stay here in the country, -waiting the ending of this tedious lawsuit, such a pet would be so -much company for me.” - -“Company!” sez I, in a deep, impressive voice, “if you want -company, where are your own girl and boy, where are the two little -immortal souls the Lord gin you to guide and fit for a place with -Him bime-by? Them two little white souls you are leavin’ with -ignorant, coarse servants to train?” - -And I went on real eloquent for as much as four minutes and a half, -but she didn’t hear me, for, after I got through with my powerful -remarks and wuz kinder waitin’ for a reply, she sez, “I can’t -possibly make up my mind which to have.” - -And I wuz real encouraged, for I thought I had convinced her and -she wuz turnin’ it over in her mind which it wuz best to have, -help about her puckers and frizzles or more assured hope about her -children’s future, and I sez, “I could tell quick.” - -“Well, then, do tell,” sez she, “for I don’t believe I can ever -make up my mind alone, there are so many things dependent on it, it -is not itself alone that you should take into consideration.” - -“That is jest what I have been tryin’ to make you understand,” sez -I, “All the mighty consequences hangin’ on it, and I am glad you -feel to realize it.” - -“Well, then,” sez she, “what color would you have?” - -“Color!” sez I. - -“Yes,” sez she, “what color would you have for the awnings and -trimmings for the big tent where I am to receive? I myself should -prefer pink as more becoming to my complexion. Medora wants -pale-blue on account of her hair, which she has just dyed a golden -color. But Mrs. La Flamme, at her great charity ball, had blue -awnings and draperies, and I wouldn’t for the world have her think -I copied her or was lacking in originality--what do you think of a -delicate shell pink?” - -I riz up with a real lot of dignity, and, as I glanced down, I see -one of her danglers sot there in a stylish carriage, waiting for -her, evidently. - -So I sez, “Don’t let me hender you any longer; Josiah will be here -in a few minutes, and I have got some bizness of my own to tend to -before I go.” I did want to see the landlord about some jars of -butter I had sold him, he had made a mistake about sendin’ home the -jars. So she went downstairs on that side of the buildin’, and I -swep’ through the hall with a sight of dignity, and didn’t finish -sweepin’ till I swep over some playthings of Algernon’s, and he -swore at me till I got to the bottom of the stairs. - -Well, the landlord promised to send home my jars, and I went out on -the lower piazza, which wuz most deserted at this hour, and pretty -soon Angenora come and found me there. She had got sick of playin’ -with Algernon, she said, and, as we sot there, we could hear him -swearin’ at his nurse and tearin’ at the cat’s tail. And the cat’s -yells of distress and the nurse’s coarse rebukes all come mellowed -by the distance, and she leaned up aginst me and we had a good -little visit. She knew me quite well, for she had been to our house -a number of times, and I had seen her at Thomas J.’s when she’d -been there to play with the children. - -She wuz a affectionate little thing, or she wouldn’t have worried -so over Jimmy De Graffe. Her eyes wuz big and black and solemn -lookin’, and her hair curled in little short black curls all over -her head, her complexion wuz white and clear, and she looked wan. -But I believe it wuz what she had had gin her that made her look -so, as well as her late hours and fashionable flirtations. But she -wuz very handsome, and I didn’t wonder so much what I had always -heard, that of all her children Miss Greene Smythe loved this -one best, and wuz proudest of her and bound to have her shine in -society even at the age of nine, poor little thing! I don’t doubt -but what her Ma loved her, but it wuz a love so covered up and hid -underneath fashion and frivolity and show that I thought to myself -it might jest about as well not been there at all for all the good -it did her. - -Though they say Miss Greene Smythe did once in a while, when she -had a few minutes’ reprieve from her life work of show and sham, -pet little Angenora, and tell her how she loved her, and that she -wuz the only comfort of her Ma’s hard, toilsome life. Love begets -love, and that is why, I spoze, little Angenora wuz the only livin’ -thing on earth that really loved Miss Greene Smythe, she did love -her fondly. - -She wuz a tender-hearted child, anyway, and had to love somethin’, -and wanted to be mothered, wanted to dretfully, but, seein’ her -mother wuz engaged in her labor of fashionable display, she didn’t -git mothered at all, and that gin her the wistful, longin’ look -in her eyes, that and her late hours and the stuff her nurse gin -her. And she had a sort of pitiful, skairful look in her eyes, -and that come, I found out, from her nurse skairin’ her nights -ever sence she wuz a baby to make her lay still, tellin’ her that -somebody would jump at her, or that there wuz great green eyes -lookin’ out at her from different places, and there wuz wicked men -ready to appear to her, and ghosts and everything, and as the nurse -had always told her that she would eat her up alive, if she told -anything about it, why, it had gin her a dretful subdued look and -afraid to say her little soul wuz her own. But I spoze the deep, -silent, constant love of this little thing wuz a rock of support -for her Ma to think on in her fashionable career, I spoze so. - -Well, I put my arm round her, and she laid her little cheek up -aginst me real confidin’ and sweet, and I told her stories and -mothered her jest as well as I could till my Josiah appeared -drivin’ up the long avenoo with the mair and colt. And I told her -to have her Ma let her come down and stay a week with us, and she -brightened up real bright and said she would. - -Josiah had made the dicker, so he told me, as we drove home, and -had swapped five hundred feet of spruce lumber for white fish put -down in sweet pickle. And I sez, “For mercy sake! what do you want -of so many fish!” - -And he sez, “I love ’em dearly, Samantha.” - -“But,” sez I, “you may love anything and not want to be swamped by -it, run over and drownded in it.” - -“Well,” he said, fish agreed with his stomach and wuz nourishin’ to -the brain. - -And I, takin’ a second thought on his last proposition, sez, “Mebby -you hain’t got any too many, Josiah, I guess you had better eat all -you can.” I knew if he couldn’t git down four or five kags of ’em -we could give ’em to the children. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -I always did kinder like to have onexpected company, it seems -as though I always have a better visit with ’em, and I felt as -pleasant as the day, which wuz a beautiful one, when two loads of -company driv up entirely onexpected about an hour before noon, -Tamer Ann Allen and Jack and Tirzah Ann and little Delight, all -happenin’ to come at almost the same time, and we had a real good -visit. Tamer had concluded to stop a day longer so’s to visit me. -I had got my work all done and a good dinner started, and wuz -standin’ on the porch lookin’ onto the environin’ seen when they -all driv up most together, though comin’ from two different ways. - -I wuz jest noticin’ how sweet the posies wuz that grew by the back -porch, and how full the hearts of the roses wuz with perfume, and -how the pink and pale-blue bells of the mornin’ glories seemed -fairly swingin’ to onseen music, to show their delight at openin’ -their eyes onto such a fair world. The far-off hills towered up -clad in deathless green and leaned aginst the sky as if real -contented and glad to be there. The blue sky, flecked with little -snowy clouds, looked down sweet and smilin’ on Jonesville and the -world. The meadows and pastures smiled up at the bendin’ sky, the -trees, all washed off by the shower of the night before, glistened -and shook out their velvet and shinin’ foliage, and the grass wuz -flecked with sunshine embroidered with daisies. - -And, best view of all to my fond heart, my companion stood in the -open barn door in his shirt sleeves feedin’ the hens, and his face -looked calm and reposeful as the seen. Tirzah and Delight got there -a little the first, and as I lifted the sweet little creeter out -it did seem, though I knew it couldn’t be, that she wuz prettier -than she wuz the last time I had seen her. But my cool reason told -me how could that be, when she wuz jest as pretty as she could be -on that occasion. She’s got big, kinder talkin’ eyes, a warm soft -hazel, I guess they be, but they are so full of light and soul and -expression that you don’t care so much what the color really is, a -fair, white complexion, wavy, flaxen hair, good features, and the -sweetest mouth you ever see with most always a smile curvin’ the -rosy lips, and a pretty plump little figger most always dressed in -white. - -When she see me she held out her little soft white hands and arms, -and I lifted her out, kissin’ her warmly as I did so; I then -greeted Tirzah Ann warmly, a good deal more warm than Ma-in-laws -usually greet their stepchildren, but, good land! I have always -considered her my own, jest as much as she wuz Josiah’s, though not -so soul congenial to me as Thomas J., she has her properties. - -Well, they hadn’t much more than alighted when Tamer Ann and Jack -come. I wuz real glad to see ’em all, and, after they had took -off their things, I got ’em into the settin’ room, and went out -and made a few more preparations for dinner, though I had a good -dinner started. I had a stuffed fowl and some green peas on, and -wuz intendin’ to have some tomatoes cooked, and some fresh, crisp -rolls and a good lemon puddin’, besides coffee and cream and jell -and things, but I put on a different tablecloth and got out my pink -banded china. - -I could hear Tamer and Tirzah talkin’ real agreeable together -while I wuz gittin’ my dinner. They wuz comparin’ notes about -their sicknesses, Tirzah Ann enjoys real poor health, too, some of -the time. And then they seemed to be comparin’ notes about their -children, and the right way to bring ’em up, and I felt bad to see -that Tamer Ann and Tirzah felt so much alike in a good many things -about their children. But I wuz so busy I couldn’t interfere and -take part in their talk until after dinner. Truly, when a man is -splittin’ wood in the rear of the house, complainin’ of faintness -at the stummick and anxiously watchin’ the clock and mistrustin’ it -wuz slow, and wishin’ he had sot it with the gong, etc., etc., it -behooves a woman to have dinner on time, if she loves tranquillity -and domestic peace. - -And after dinner wuz over and my dishes washed, I washin’ and -Tirzah Ann wipin’, and we three wimmen wuz settin’ with our sewin’ -and knittin’, the children bein’ out in the yard to play, then when -the conversation gradually turned round onto bringin’ up children -and its perils and perplexities, I put in my oar, too, and took -a part in the meetin’ as you may say. Tirzah had had a hard time -the Sunday before, she had taken little Delight to church and had -a trial with her that made her feel dretfully, and she wuz jest -beginnin’ to tell about it when she wuz interrupted by the children -talkin’ right under the winder; they wuz talkin’ so earnest about -sunthin’ we all stopped to listen. - -Jack wuz speakin’ excited and interested, sez he, “Don’t you see, -Delight, that long, low cloud that is layin’ right aginst that -tree top? I believe if we should climb up that tree we could step -right off into Heaven, and I wonder if the Lord would be glad to -see us if we should walk in.” - -“Of course He would,” sez Delight. “He would come to the door and -take us right up in His arms and say, ‘I am glad to see you. Suffer -little children to come unto me,’ that is what Mama told me He said -about children, and I learnt it.” - -But at this juncter Tirzah Ann rushed to the winder and hollered -to Delight and told her to stop instantly, and Tamer Ann follered -right on and told Jack to not let her hear any more such talk. And -the children crep off into another part of the dooryard, lookin’ -crestfallen and wonderin’ what they had said now that wuz wrong. -And, after they wuz out of hearin’, I sez, “Why did you tell your -children you would punish ’em for sayin’ what they did?” - -Sez Tamer, “I won’t have Jack show irreverence, and I’ll whip him -if he duz.” And Tirzah Ann sez, “I will not allow Delight to talk -in that way.” - -Sez I, “Tirzah Ann, ever sence she wuz a baby you have made little -Delight pray to God, you have learnt her He wuz her best friend, -you made her learn that beautiful verse she repeated, and now what -irreverence wuz there in thinking that God would be glad to see ’em -if they went to Heaven, when you have learned her to love God and -go to Him with all her little troubles and temptations?” - -“What is proper to say at prayer time hain’t proper to say at other -times,” sez Tirzah, and sez Tamer, “Yes, that is so.” - -But I sez solemnly, “Tirzah Ann and Tamer, that is a great -mistake; you try for half an hour each day to make your children -the inmates of another world, surrounded by different beings and -circumstances. Now, that hain’t so, God is with Jack and Delight at -this minute out there in the playground, jest as nigh as He is when -they are kneelin’ at your four feet, and in my opinion they ought -to be learnt that is the case, and what is proper for them to think -of God at one time is proper at another. - -“Now, in my opinion, God would be glad to see them innocent little -children step into Heaven off from that cloud, if they could, and -my way would have been to told them that God would be glad to see -’em at any time, and that He did see ’em, that He wuz with ’em at -prayer time and play time, in storm and shine, and wanted ’em to -be good little children, and wuz grieved when they wuz naughty, -and then I should have tried to explain to ’em why they couldn’t -step off from that cloud into Heaven. That would be my way,” -sez I, holdin’ up Josiah’s sock and tacklin’ it in a new place, -“howsumever,” sez I mildly, seein’ Tirzah Ann and Tamer looked -wrathy, “howsumever, I will say agin it is easier to tell folks how -to bring up children than do the bringin’ up, or be satisfied after -they’re brung.” - -“This irreverence in talkin’ about divine things is what I can’t -and won’t stand.” - -“Then, Tirzah Ann,” sez I, “you should bring Delight up in a -different way. How is she to know the Being you encourage her in -talkin’ to one minute is not to be mentioned at another? Everything -in the world is as new to her as it would be to us if we wuz sot -down on the planet Jupiter to-day. How do you know we should have -first class Jupiter ways? I don’t spoze we should, I spoze we -should act like fools and lunaticks more’n half the time judged by -Jupiter standards. Delight has everything to learn, you teach her -that God is her best friend, more than father and mother, is with -her all the time, and yet she musn’t speak of Him only for a few -minutes night and morning. Delight can’t understand that, Tirzah -Ann. And I can’t, nuther,” sez I, in a milder voice, for I see she -looked mad. “Why,” sez I, “when Thomas J. wuz little he used to -talk to the Lord by the hour, tell Him all his little troubles and -sorrows. I would hear him, but never interfered, thinkin’ He wuz a -better, safer friend than any other could be.” - -Sez Tamer, “It is a bad habit for a child to git into, talkin’ so -familiar with the Deity, and it should be stopped, in my opinion.” - -Sez I, “You let Cicero fill his mind with burglars and pirates all -day long. Isn’t the Divine One a better inmate for the soul than -them pirates and enchanted elephants, Tamer Ann?” - -She quailed quite a good deal, and I sez, “Jack is inclined to -be devout, Tamer, if it isn’t whipped out of him, he has got a -religious mind.” - -“Religious mind!” sez she, laughin’ in a onbelievin’ way. “Hear -that! that sounds religious, don’t it?” Jack wuz yellin’ pretty -middlin’ loud, I’ll confess, out under the maples. But I sez, “I -don’t see anything aginst it in that, Tamer. I presume David yelled -full as loud, or louder, when he wuz a child, and Job, too. I dare -presume to say old Miss Job had her hands full with him, and let -him go out and yell, and encouraged him in it to git him out of the -tent, so she could rest her head and ears. Yellin’ hain’t nothin’ -criminal, Tamer, and hain’t been considered so from Jerusalem to -Jonesville.” - -“Well,” sez Tirzah, “you ought to been to church last Sunday, -mother, and see then whether you would think Delight did right; I -declare I wuz so mortified I wanted to sink right down through the -floor.” And Tirzah Ann assayed agin to tell the tale. - -But as before we hearn the voices of the children almost under the -winder, and what of all the world do you think they wuz talkin’ -about? Why, about marryin’, them two little tots lookin’ like two -clothes-pins, talkin’ of matrimony. - -Now, marryin’ is sunthin’ I hate dretfully to hear children talkin’ -about. But then, come to reason on it, Jack had heard it talked -from one week’s end to another at home, though I don’t spoze he -knew what it meant no more than a Hottentot understands snow-shoes. -But he heard Tamer argue for hours and hours that Anna should not -marry Tom Willis and should marry Von Crank, rehearsin’ the reasons -why she should marry one and not marry the other. How wuz Jack to -know that marriage wuz not a congenial or suitable subject for old -or young? Why, she talked that very day more than an hour about it -right before the children. It wuz no wonder they had ketched the -talk, some like measles when they’re round, and I hearn Jack ask -Delight who she thought she would marry. - -But when she heard the word “marry” Tamer craned her neck out of -the winder and told Jack to “Stop instantly!” And he looked up, his -blue eyes half shot up, and sez, “Stop what?” - -And she sez, “Stop that talk about marryin’!” - -“Why, mother, you have been talkin’ about it all the mornin’.” - -But Tamer sez, “One more word out of your head, young man, like -that, and I will shet you up in a dark room.” - -They wuz kinder still for a minute, and I knew that the mornin’ -glory eyes wuz shot up under the burnin’ scorn of his Ma’s axent, -and then, for I wuz nighest the winder, I hearn Jack say, in a low -voice, “I think I shall marry your grandmother, Delight.” - -I felt the compliment deeply, to think I wuz the first choice of -that innocent heart. But it seemed even at that age the feminine -mind wuz more educated in the suitability of marriage than the more -opposite sex. Delight sez, “Oh, you tan’t.” - -“Why not?” sez Jack, impatient. - -“Betause she is too old.” - -“Well, then I shall marry father.” - -“Oh, you tan’t,” sez Delight. - -“Why?” - -“Betause he is a man.” - -“Well, then I will marry you.” - -“Oh, you tan’t!” - -“Why not?” - -“Betause I am too young to marry.” - -And then Jack sez, impatient and loud, “Well, if some are too young -and some too old, who can I marry?” - -And Tamer heard that last word, and she sprung to the winder and -leaned half out of it, and sez, “If you don’t stop such talk -instantly, Jack, I will call that bad man round the corner to come -and take your head right off!” And then she sez, sinkin’ back in -her chair, “Oh, dear me! what a job it is to bring up children -right.” - -And Tirzah sez, “Yes, indeed, it is, now last Sunday in church----” - -But Tamer, bein’ so full and runnin’ over with complaints about -Jack, she went right on and told over a dozen of his little tricks -and ways, kinder cunnin’ I thought some on ’em, but she and Tirzah -thinkin’ ’em dretful, and at last, though I am very close mouthed -and seldom speak, I did say, “It seems to me you ort to be more -patient with your little children, for they are learnt by us bigger -ones to do most everything they do, and then the poor little -creeters get whipped for it.” - -“Well,” sez Tamer, “I would like to know who learnt Jack to do some -of his tricks, what would you do,” sez she, “if a child throwed all -your clothes out of the winder--dresses, petticoats, stockin’s, and -everything when you wuz tryin’ to dress? And poured water down on -folks who wuz passin’ below. Why,” sez she, “such strange things -would be throwed out of our winders that folks would inquire what -kind of folks lived there. And one woman that he spilte a bunnet -for threatened to sue us; of course that wuz some time ago, when we -lived in town, but I well remember it. She had stopped with another -woman right under our winder for a few minutes’ quiet and peaceable -talk, and Jack trickled a hull cup of water down onto ’em. Their -bunnets wuz kinder soft and spongy, and took up the water for a -spell, but when their heads begun to git wet they investigated, and -there Jack wuz, happy as a king, callin’ for more water, his cup -had gin out--how would you like that? And while you wuz tryin’ to -dress have all your clothes throwed down into the street, and you -can’t say that he had ever seen us do that.” - -“I shouldn’t like it,” sez I mildly; “but how old wuz Jack when he -did this?” - -“It wuz the winter we lived in Jonesville: Jack wuz about three.” - -“Well,” sez I, “you ort to make Jack stop such works. I am fur from -wantin’ folks throwed out or poured down on. But I don’t spoze Jack -knew the mischief he wuz doin’. How did he know the effect of water -on artifical flowers? Or the trouble it would be to go out and pick -up your clothes? I remember jest before that, when I wuz visitin’ -you, Hamen would throw things down on the floor and out of the -winder a purpose for Jack to go out and pick up, and he kep’ it up -more than I should in his place. It tickled Jack, and Jack would -throw things down on the floor, and Hamen would pick ’em up, and -Jack would giggle. And many is the time I’ve seen Hamen sprinkle -water down onto Jack’s curly head to see him duck and wink to git -away from it. Jack wuz only follerin’ his father’s example, Tamer -Ann, though, as I said before, I don’t approve on’t in Jack, and -want no man or woman throwed out or poured down on.” - -“Oh, you will always stand up for Jack.” - -“I stand for reason,” sez I solemnly, “and justice and common -sense. In ninety cases out of a hundred folks whip their children -for what they or somebody else has learnt ’em to do.” - -And then Tirzah Ann spoke up again, kinder firm and decided as if -she wuz determined now to finish her tale. “Last Sunday in church -I wuz so mortified with Delight’s doin’s I thought I should sink. -We took her to meetin’ and there wuz a boy there a few years older -than she, and he kep’ tormentin’ her, pullin’ her hair in a sly -way, and pinchin’ her, and at last he stuck a pin into her, and -then what should Delight do all of a sudden but kneel right down -in the aisle--she wuz next to the pew door--and right while the -minister wuz talkin’, prayed loud for the Lord to stop that boy -that wuz plaguin’ her, and, sez she, ‘if he won’t stop, dear Lord, -kill him.’ I thought I should die with shame, and you can’t say you -ever heard Whitfield or me pray to have anybody killed.” - -“No, Tirzah Ann, nobody ever heard that from you or Whitfield; -but,” sez I, “do you remember what part of the Bible you are -reading now at mornin’ prayers?” - -“It is the Old Testament,” sez she. - -“Well, them old prophets used to git awful mad at their enemies and -pray for the Lord to smite ’em hip and thigh, and kill ’em, etc. Of -course Delight heard you read, she always listens to everything she -hears, and I spoze she thought if that wuz Bible talk it wuz good -enough for her.” - -“Well, what can we do, mother?” sez Tirzah. “You know we are -reading it through by course, and we want to read every word of it -or it won’t be by course.” - -“Of course not,” sez I. - -“But is there any decree or law of Providence compellin’ you to -read the Bible by course at family prayers? The Bible is a precious -mine of riches where each can get the wealth he or she needs and -desires, but, as in the case of other mines where gold and jewels -are found, there is some earth, some alloy with it. You wouldn’t -mount a slate stun and wear it on your bosom because it wuz found -side by side with a diamond. In my opinion lots of the talk in the -Old Testament, the breathin’ of vengeance and slaughter and rapine, -etc., is not exactly the food to bring up young children on.” - -“But we wuz readin’ it by course, mother, we had to read the whole -thing.” - -“Well,” sez I, “that hain’t the way Nater duz when she sets out -to make a white lily: she takes from rich Mother Earth all the -qualities necessary to make a lily, she selects what will make the -dainty whiteness, the delicious fragrance of the flower; she don’t -take the blackness of the soil, the dinginess and dirt. No, out -of the rich storehouse she selects the best, what she needs. Now, -the Bible is so full, Tirzah Ann, of all wisdom, divine knowledge, -tenderest love, and divine pity, full of the glory of the Great -Father of us all, why can’t you select out of it what you and your -children need instead of settin’ up that puny reason of readin’ it -by course, and gettin’ by that process all the earth of the human -natures through which God’s inspiration is filtered down into our -comprehension? You don’t need all that talk about slaughter and -vengeance, nor genealogies, etc., though I have seen folks read ’em -right through at family prayer, Johab begat Ehod, and Ehod begat -Ichabod, and etc. They had to be begot, of course, ’twas necessary -to be; but I could never git any good or inspiration out of readin’ -’em in the mornin’ as food for the spiritual needs of the day. -Howsumever, I wuz never one to set up my way as the only way, but I -will say that after Delight heard you read about it she might have -thought she would foller the example of them old patriarchs with -her enemies, for I do spoze the prickin’ and jerkin’ of the little -torment made her feel that he wuz her enemy. And, anyway, if them -old prophets are held innocent for talkin’ in this way, with the -experience of a lifetime and the inspiration of the Lord to lead -’em, what do you think of a little child like Delight? Not that -I approve on’t in her, nor in them either, and I don’t believe -the Lord had much to do with such sanguinary desires, nor I don’t -believe the Lord wants you to read about it to the children.” - -“Well,” sez Tirzah Ann, “I wuz mortified most to death. And once -in the parlor, full of company, a hard thunderstorm came up, and -Delight wuz awfully frightened, and she knelt right down and -prayed for the Lord to stop that thunder, and got up and stamped -her little foot to think it didn’t stop to the very minute, and -hollered out, ‘Stop it, dear Lord! Stop it this minute!’ What do -you think of that?” - -Sez I, “I think of that as I do of other human creeters who are -scared and overthrown with the sorrow and pain of life. They pray -to the Lord to stop their agony, and because He don’t stop it at -once they grow impatient and onbelievin’, and mebby, as Miss Job -did, feel to curse God and die. We can’t wait no more than Delight -did for the storm to clear the sky; we don’t realize no more than -she that mebby it wuz needed to cleanse the air from impurities and -make us appreciate the sunshine and calm better. No, Delight and -Jack and all the rest of us are blind creeters, and it don’t do for -one of us to condemn the other too much.” - -And then Tamer went on to tell how Jack had mortified her when she -took him on a visit to some very stylish people. - -That very forenoon, so Anna told me afterwards, Tamer had whipped -Jack because she mistrusted he had not told her the exact -truth--whipped him for not bein’ open and candid. - -And Tamer had warned Jack to be very polite at the table, to eat -whatever was put before him, and make no remarks about it. - -So Jack, I suppose, felt he had done his full duty, and deserved -and desired credit, when he leaned back in his chair and said he -had finished his supper, and added: - -“I have done just what you told me to do, mother. I have eat my -rossberrys, worms and all, and said nothin’.” - -“I thought,” said Tamer, “I should sink through the floor; and -another time I thought I should expire with shame. Jack had been to -Sunday-school and the teacher” (the Born Baptist) “made him sign -the pledge. Jack loved sweet cider, and I wuz afraid he would break -the pledge, he wuz so little, and I thought I would ruther have him -wait till he got older and could feel the importance of it, and I -told Jack I would have his teacher take his name off the pledge. -And that very day she called, and I told her I thought Jack had -better wait till he wuz older, and she turned her eyes in a solemn -way to Jack and said, ‘Jack, do you want to take your name off the -pledge?’ - -“‘Yes, I do,’ sez Jack, independent as anything. - -“‘Do you want to drink cider?’ - -“‘Yes, I do, and beer and brandy and whisky and anything else I can -git to drink.’” - -Sez Tamer, “I could cried, I felt so, and that woman looked on us -as if she thought we wuz heathens. Hamen whipped Jack hard for -that.” - -Sez I, “I wouldn’t be afraid to bet a cent Hamen and John had -plagued Jack about signin’ the pledge and told him he couldn’t -drink any more beer or whisky, thinkin’ it wuz smart and -cunnin’--didn’t they, now?” - -“Well, I don’t know,” sez Tamer. “I remember they laughed at him -about it.” - -“Yes, and mebby laughed away more than they bargained for, Tamer -Ann Smith!” sez I. “It is a solemn thing to bring up a child, and a -solemner one to whip him for what we learn him to do.” - -Sez Tamer, real dignified, “I’ll tell you one or two more scrapes -Jack got into, and if you want to lay ’em to Hamen and me you can, -but it will be very unjust, very. It wuz when Jack wuz three or -four years old, he wuz out playin’ with another little boy of the -same age, little Eddie Grey, and Eddie said, about four in the -afternoon, that he had got to go home, for his mother wanted to -give him a bath, and Jack wuz lonesome and wanted him to stay a -spell longer, but Eddie thought he couldn’t, for his mother would -be waitin’. - -“And Jack said he could git all ready for the bath there, and then -his mother wouldn’t have to take up her time ondressin’ him. So, if -you’ll believe it, Jack took off all the clothes from that boy and -sent him home bare naked through the streets with his clothes in a -little bundle under his arm. It wuz the town’s talk.” - -“I am fur from thinkin’,” sez I, “that it wuz a proper thing to do. -But I must say if the town wuz as innocent as Jack, it would be a -good thing for the town, and the town wouldn’t have talked as much -about it.” - -It wuz a real hot day, and as we sot there talkin’ time had slipped -round and the sun with it, till it beat right into our settin’-room -winder, and we all presperation and sweat, and Tamer got up and -looked in the glass and sez, “Oh, my! how I do look!” And she -took out a little pearl-mounted box from her pocket with some -rice powder in it and a little mite of a puff brush and went to -applyin’ it to her heated and red visage as she went on with her -remarks. - -“It wuz that very summer, they wuz paintin’ the roof of the -Presbyterian Church a bright red, and Jack and Eddie went over -there while the men had gone home to their dinner, and they painted -each other a bright red all over, their hair and faces and hands -and legs all a bright solid red, and on their clothes they put the -paint in stripes. No human objects outside of a menagerie ever -looked as they did as they marched home through the streets. I -would love to hear you say, Samantha, that you ever see Hamen or me -cuttin’ up such tricks.” - -“Not exactly,” sez I, lookin’ pensively at her paint box, “but I -don’t spoze the little creeters knew how dretfully they would look -or how oncomfortable and sticky they would make themselves or their -parents.” - -“Well, I know Jack got a good whippin’ for that scrape after we had -scoured him off with turpentine so we could whip him.” - -“Well,” sez I, sithin’ deep, “there is lots of things that we have -to learn by experience, Tamer Ann, lots of experiments we try with -our hearts, our lives, our feller creeters’ happiness and our own. -We dip the brush in carelessly that is to leave its mark on us for -life, that no turpentine can wash out, recklessly, onheedingly, -blindly, we make the fatal marks, blot out the hull of happiness -mebby, with the wretched fatality of ignorance. And we git whipped -for it,” sez I, “whipped by the achin’ pain in our hearts, by the -more stingin’ pain of seein’ some one we love suffer, that we -have laid the fatal brush on with our own hands. We are all blind -creeters; we are all poor, ignorant children sot down in a new -world and another mysterious one in front of us, and it duz become -us, Tamer and Tirzah Ann, to try and be patient with these other -poor little blunderers, whose mistakes are not so big as ourn, -because the consequences are not so mighty. Poor little creeters! -It would seem that in pity for our own mistakes we would deal -charitable with ’em.” - -Jest as I wuz sayin’ these words two children who wuz boardin’ -to one of my neighbor’s and goin’ to school, come to git some -dime novels that Tamer had promised to bring to ’em. They lived -only a little ways from Tamer’s when they wuz to home, and she -had supplied ’em with their mental nutriment for some years. They -had an armful they had read and got another armful to carry back, -for Tamer wuz one to keep her promise, and she had told ’em she -would bring some every time she came here visitin’. And they took -’em with deep delight, and couldn’t hardly wait till they got out -of the house before they commenced to devour ’em. They wuz as -blood-curdlin’ and soul-harrowin’ as any I ever see, and I felt -as if I should sink to see youthful mind hunger fed on such pizen -stuff. They wuz about fourteen and fifteen years of age, and the -girl wuz as pretty as a pink, but beginnin’ to put on airs and act -like a heroine. The boy looked ruther rough, some like Cicero, -and I knew he wuz tryin’ to give himself that hauty, overbearin’, -reckless air that the heroes all had in these novels. - -After they had gone with their books I argued with Tamer Ann about -lendin’ such trash to children, but she said it would do ’em -good--it would give ’em a taste for readin’. - -But my last words to her before I left the room and went out to -hang on the tea kettle wuz: - -“Time will tell.” - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -Tamer and Jack stayed all night, and the next day but one we wuz -all to meet at Thomas Jefferson’s, and then she wuz goin’ home and -leave Jack with me for a week or so. The prospect wuz very pleasin’ -to Jack and me, and to Delight, for she wuz going to stay too. The -next day, bein’ we wuz alone together, except the children, it -seemed as if Tamer wuz just crazy to onburden her heart to me about -her trouble in makin’ Anne listen to what she called reason and -marry Von Crank, and the ingratitude of a child’s disobeyin’ her -parents, and the imprudence and recklessness of her love for a poor -young man. And of course, seein’ she wuz a visitor, I had to set -and hear the talk dribble on. Why, the idee of punishin’ Jack for -talkin’ about marriage when he didn’t hear anything else when he -wuz in the house. - -I let it go on, thinkin’ I had said all I could on the subject. But -at last, for wimmen’s patience can’t hold out only jest so long, -she promulgated the idee that she thought that she should send Anne -to the Convent of the Holy Heart; sez she, “She can learn some -accomplishments there of the Sisters that she can’t anywhere else. -But,” sez she confidentially, “the real reason I am doing it is to -separate her from Tom Willis, for if I could once git her mind off -from him I believe I could make her marry the man I want her to.” - -Sez I coolly, “I would choose a place with some other name.” - -“What do you mean?” sez she. - -Sez I, “I would never choose a place called the Holy Heart for such -a heartless affair as you are goin’ into.” - -“Heartless?” sez she. - -“Yes,” sez I calmly, turnin’ Josiah’s second best vest over and -attacktin’ it on the other side (I wuz patchin’ it), “under the -shadow of the Holy Heart with His name printed above you you want -to desecrate and ravage a heart, sell a heart. There wuz a time -when your child’s heart wuz a smooth, ontroubled place, a page with -nothin’ writ down on it but domestic names and attachments. Then -wuz the time for you to have guarded that white, still place. If -you hadn’t wanted Tom Willis to write his name there on the virgin -whiteness of that heart why did you let ’em be together day by day -and year in and year out? You kep’ still, readin’ your dime novels -and discoverin’ your new diseases, of which I dare say you have a -variety,” sez I (for I see she looked mad), “you kep’ still and -never said a word of warnin’ or command, or disapproval, left them -two young hearts jest prepared for their images to be photographed -on each other by the divine photography of the Sun of Love, and -now when their images are stamped so full and onfadingly that no -earthly hand can rub ’em out, now you complain of the imprudence of -young people, the recklessness with which they form attachments and -the wickedness of it. - -“But, Tamer Ann Smith, I tell you now that what you call the -imprudence and recklessness is not in Anna, but in her gardeens. -Her gardeens that didn’t watch her young heart, her young, -careless, springlike, girlish life, that wuz bound to burst into -bloom when the sun shone on it. It wuz in your power mebby early in -the mornin’ to have picked out the light for her, selected the sun, -but after it is once riz and set the world to bloomin’ you can’t -do it, you can’t stop the divine freshness, the bird’s song, the -sadness, the glory, the pathos, and the power, the light that never -wuz on sea or shore, you can’t put up any umbrell to shet off that -light, and so I give you warnin’.” - -Sez she, “I will do it. Anna shall never marry Tom Willis.” - -“You’ve started late in the day to hender it.” - -“I will hender it,” sez she. - -“Well,” sez I calmly, “time will tell.” And to turn the subject -round and please her at the same time, I sez, “How duz your basler -mangetus seem to be to-day, and your sinevetus?” - -But she wuzn’t to be turned round even by her favorite subject. Sez -she, “You like Tom Willis, and you know it.” - -Sez I, “I hain’t disputed it.” - -“I believe you encourage Anna in thinkin’ of him.” - -“Not a word has Anna heard me speak either for or aginst. There -wuzn’t any need on’t,” sez I; “it would be too late for me to begin -if I wanted to. No, I am simply settin’ still and seein’ things and -circumstances pass before me, some as if I wuz settin’ on a bench -at a circus.” - -“If you wuz Anna’s true friend and mine, if you acted as a blood -cousin ort to, you would talk to Anna and try to make her listen to -reason.” - -“No, I thank you, Tamer Ann; there is sunthin’ now in her heart -that is beyend reason, as fur above and beyend it as the stars are -above the earth.” - -“If you did your duty, Josiah Allen’s wife, you would tell her to -obey her mother and marry the man her mother approves of, that her -mother’s superior wisdom and experience teaches her is the best -fitted to insure her child’s happiness.” - -“No, Tamer Ann Smith, I make no matches nor break none, and if I -wuz goin’ to advise Anna, which I hain’t, I shouldn’t be liable to -advise her to give up all the beauty and romance and happiness of -life for the sake of settin’ down under the shade of a family tree -and let it shade me alongside that walkin’ mummy, Von Crank.” - -“One of the oldest and most aristocratick families in the State. -You ought to take it as a great honor that he felt willin’ to -connect himself with the Smith family at all.” - -I see we couldn’t agree, and I sez, “Tamer Ann, you will agitate -yourself so your baslar mangetis will be worse--man-get-us,” sez I -thoughtfully; “if that wuz only a contagious disease I know lots of -single wimmen who would love to have it prevail.” But my friendly -joke didn’t turn her mind round as I meant it should; no, she went -on bitterly: - -“To think Tom Willis should think of marryin’ Anna, and his father -only a common carpenter.” - -“Well, Tamer Ann,” sez I, “we kneel every day of our life and -worship One who wuz called that. - -“Tom Willis,” sez I, “has got the wealth and distinction in himself -instead of havin’ to put on a pair of magnifyin’ specks and try -to trace it back to some remote ancestor, who mebby had a spark -or two of it. You’ll find it right here in him, and I think it is -better to have the nobility where you can put your hand on it in -a handsome young form than to be chasin’ back for it up a family -tree, climbin’ up mouldy old branches, follerin’ rotten, decayin’ -old limbs, and some sound ones,” sez I, reasonable; “but, anyway, -nobility a century or so old seems sort o’ shadowy and spectral, -and don’t impress me so much as it duz while it is right before me, -strugglin’ on through disappointments and pain, tryin’ to reach the -high prizes of success and Anna--or, I mean, happiness.” - -She tossted her head real kinder disdainful, but I went on, for I -begun to feel eloquent: “It is so difficult to know a hero when -you see him right before your face and eyes. It is easy now, -after everything is passed, to open your encyclopedia and read -the names of Columbus, and Washington, and Newton, and Luther, -etc. But the time wuz when Columbus walked the streets unknown, -all the fire of genius, the passion of the discoverer must have -looked out of his sad eyes onto the onsympathetic faces of the -crowd; it wuz all hidden in his soul. His ears heard the swash -of new seas breakin’ on onknown shores, his eyes saw the tall -mountains of a grander continent risin’ through the mists, but -them around couldn’t see it, they wuz down there in the mists -and stayed there. The discoverer of a new world walked homeless -and friendless through the streets. He couldn’t carry them cold, -blind eyes into the glorious possibilities of the future. No, the -poor blind eyes looked scornful at him and laughed at his hopes. -The great philosophers and inventors who apprehended what they -couldn’t comprehend; who looked through the summer skies cleft -by the fall of an apple and saw great systems of philosophy; who -saw by the steam of a tea kettle a whole world bound together -by swift-rollin’ wheels of lightnin’ speed; who saw through the -child’s kite the continents talkin’ together--their rapt eyes saw -all these glorious possibilities and wuz derided for it and called -idiots by them who looked down on ’em and told ’em it wuz folly, -idiocy of the deepest degree to see anything in the fallin’ apple -beyond the possibility of a pie. This is the same kind of worldly -common sense that makes us onmindful every day of our life of -the presence of real heroes in our midst who, manly, honest, and -God-fearin’, are tryin’ to vanquish the ills of life and conquer -success.” - -“I spoze you think Tom Willis is one of them heroes,” sez Tamer -coldly, cold as a ice-suckle. - -“Yes, seein’ you’ve asked, I’ll tell you plain I do think so, and -I lay out to look on him now with the same pair of eyes I would -when he got his name writ down on the pillow of fame; he needs my -sympathy now--he wouldn’t then, if I wuz livin’ to give it to him. -It would be a good thing for these heroes and for our own souls -if we put a few of the flowers we put on the monuments of dead -heroes into the empty hands, the poor, tired, scarred hands of our -live heroes to-day. If a few of the smiles and hurrahs we keep for -onanswerin’ eyes and ears was spent on our live heroes who are -fightin’ life’s battles jest as General Grant fought his, straight -on the line, with no manoovers or false movements, straightforward -and simple and manly----” - -“You are thinkin’ of Tom Willis agin,” sez Tamer Ann sarcastickally. - -“Yes, I am,” sez I firmly. “Tom Willis has got genius, -perseverance, good common sense and a lovin’ heart, and that is -jest the stuff heroes are made of. Genius alone is flighty and -takes a man offen his feet, swingin’ him up above the housetops; -common sense alone is too heavy, weightin’ a chap down; but take -both together, with perseverin’ industry and a lovin’ heart, they -will take a boy right straight towards a monument, and that is jest -where Tom Willis is goin’. He is goin’ away from the jealous eyes -and persecutions and tribulations; whether we help or hender, he -is bound for a newer, grander country, a prosperous future where -he will cast anchor bimeby; his sails are sot for it, he will git -to it, and whether he carries into it a happy or a achin’ heart -depends on you, Tamer Ann Smith.” - -“Oh, shaw!” sez she. - -Sez I mildly, “Shawin’ never did any good in the past, Tamer Ann, -nor I have no reason to think it will in the future.” - -Nor any hurt, I sez to myself reasonable, for I had faith to think -that it would all come out right in the end, dark as it looked now, -for Anna wouldn’t marry without her ma’s consent, and it looked -like obtaining sweet milk from a soapstun to git a consent from -Tamer Ann. But I kep’ my faith, and would say to myself time and -agin, Hain’t it as big as a mustard seed? Can’t I git up faith as -big as a pinhead? I ort to, and then I would try. - -That very day, whilst Tamer and I wuz visitin’, word come that her -mother on her own side wuz took away with a fit and the funeral wuz -to be to the house next day but one. - -Hamen’s wife felt quite bad, she shed a number of tears that I see, -and mebby some I didn’t see, I shouldn’t wonder, for a mother is a -mother as long as her skin and bones hold her heart. Of course for -years Ma Bodley had been failin’ and runnin’ down, but watched over -good by Tamer’s old maid sister, Alzina. - -She wuzn’t quite so noble a Christian old maid as the one who took -care of Anna’s childhood, but she wuz a good, faithful creeter, -and the best judge of mustard plasters and milk porridge I ever -see--well, she’d handled ’em enough to be a judge of ’em. Hamenses -wife went right on to her old home with the man who come to tell -the news, and Josiah and I told her we would come to the funeral. -It wuz goin’ to be to the house, and as their house wuz liable to -be full of relations I told her to leave Jack and I would bring him -with me. - -We wuz goin’ to stop and leave Delight to home on the way to the -funeral. Well, no sooner had they started off than Jack tackled me -about the funeral--what funerals wuz, and what they did to ’em. -And I went on and explained it all out to him as well as I could, -and when I come to tell him about the hearse, for I talked quite -diffuse, partly to get his mind off, he said he should ride in it. - -I argued with him for a spell, but he stood firm to the last that -he should “ride in that hearse.” I told him it wuz for his poor -Grandma. And he said there wuz room enough for both; she had always -divided everything with him. And he cried a little--he loved his -Grandma. And he wanted to know if his Grandma couldn’t talk and -tell him about dyin’, what it wuz. He said Grandma would always -answer questions. - -And I sez, “Grandma can’t answer this question, Jack.” And then I -tried to explain it to him as well as I could how part of Grandma, -the best part, her life and soul, had gone up into heaven, and he -would find it there some day. Tegus wuz the questions he put to me, -but I buckled on my boddist waist of duty and tried to answer ’em, -and he went to bed quite clever. - -I went up into the room and helped him ondress and hearn him tell -his prayers, and tucked him up and left him with a warm good-night -kiss and went below to git Delight ready for bed. And, oh, how -sweet she did look as she knelt in her little white nightgown, her -dimpled hands clasped on my knee, and her great, big, innocent eyes -lookin’ up into my face and through it, searchin’ for the Eternal -Good she was addressin’! I wuz waitin’ to hear her commence, my -Josiah lookin’ on admirin’ly from the other side of the hearth. -When all of a sudden she broke out, all of a sudden like, and, sez -she: - -“Oh, before I forgit it, Lord, I want to tell you.” - -Josiah made a horrified exclamation as if he wuz shocked beyond all -account, and would have stopped her. But I gin him a warnin’ look -and let her go on. “Before I say my prayers, dear Lord, I want to -tell you that I wuz a selfish little girl yesterday morning, and I -want you to help me; I want you to help me special to be a generous -little girl, and I will help you, too, or mebby I won’t.” - -[Illustration: I WENT UP INTO THE ROOM AND HELPED HIM ONDRESS, AND -HEARN HIM TELL HIS PRAYERS. - - _Page 220._] - -Here Josiah fairly throwed up his hands and sez, “Samantha Allen, -this is goin’ too fur; I won’t set still and see irreverence goin’ -on in my house. She must not be allowed to say such things. I speak -as a deacon,” sez he, lookin’ some big. And it wuz to think on a -dretful speech to make, tellin’ the Lord that mebby she would help -Him and mebby she wouldn’t. It sounded strange and bad, and if -I had hushed her up and rebuked her chillin’ly we should always -thought she wuz irreverent and irreligious; but I felt that there -wuz sunthin’ to the bottom of it more than she could with her small -stock of language readily make known. And I gin my pardner a -deep look as much as to say, “Keep still, Josiah Allen,” and then I -bent over Delight and sez: - -“What do you mean, Delight, by sayin’ mebby I won’t? That don’t -sound jest right, sweetheart; you know you are talkin’ to the One -Highest and Best, who made you and keeps you alive and who loves -you better even than grandma duz. You must be very true and lovin’ -and humble when you talk to Him.” - -“Well, that is what I mean. If I told a wrong story to you it -wouldn’t be so bad as if I told it to God, would it?” - -“No, I don’t know that it would,” sez I candidly. - -“Well, I wuz so ’fraid I would tell one to Him if I said right out -I would help Him.” - -And I sez gently, “Tell me all about it, Delight.” - -“Well, yesterday mornin’ I took the biggest pear on the table, and -papa said I wuz gettin’ to be a selfish little girl, and he felt -bad about it. I told him I would tell the Lord all about it, and -I guessed He would make me better. I said I would ask him special -to, and I would help Him. But I forgot to ask Him last night, and I -thought mebby I would forgit and do something jest as bad, and that -would be tellin’ a wrong story to the Lord, wouldn’t it? And so I -thought I would say p’rhaps I wouldn’t, so He wouldn’t be sprized -if I forgot and wuzn’t jest good, don’t you see?” - -“Yes,” sez I, “Grandma sees jest how it wuz,” and I cast a -triumphant look onto my pardner, but he, too, wuz lookin’ perfectly -happy and contented, and so Delight told her little prayers, “Our -Father,” and “Now I lay me,” and ended up with: - -“God bless Papa and Mama, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Tom -and Aunt Maggie, and little Snow, and don’t forgit, please, -please, please, dear Lord, to make me good, and don’t let me forgit -it, and don’t let me forgit I want to be good when I git to playin’ -with Jack and he plagues me, and bless Jack, amen.” - -And I took her in my arms and put her to bed after I had held her -down to kiss her Grandpa, bless her sweet face! I laid her in her -little crib and kissed her more’n a dozen times, and she me; and -when I went back into the settin’ room I sez to Josiah, “If there -wuz ever a deep religious prayer, that wuz.” - -“Yes,” sez he; “it wuz a prayer any minister might be proud on.” - -“To think,” sez I, “of her bein’ so conscientious, so ’fraid of -lyin’ to the Lord; and think of all the long, long vows we have -heard to meetin’ with no idee they would be kep’ and wuzn’t kep’.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “it wuz a powerful effort. I never see the beat -on’t, and I’ve been deacon goin’ on twenty years.” - -“And then,” sez I, “to think of her honesty and the depth of the -idee of wantin’ Him to help her not to forgit that she wanted to -be good when she got to playin’ with Jack and he plagued her. She -felt how different it wuz to want to be good in the quiet and rest -of prayer time to what it wuz when took up with the cares of the -day and the happiness and selfishness of playin’ with Jack. She wuz -afraid, that little creeter wuz, that she would forgit that she -wanted to be good when took up with her playthings or when he wuz -plaguin’ her, jest as we be time and agin, Josiah Allen, when we -git so burdened with the cares of this world or took up with its -playthings that we most forgit that we want to be good.” - -“Yes,” sez Josiah, “I hain’t heard anything more edifyin’ since I -jined the meetin’ house.” - -Josiah Allen is very sound, and what I admire in that man, what -makes him so different from most grandparents, is that he hain’t -blinded at all by his love for Delight; he sees clear just how fur -above other children she is, and deep, and I am jest so. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -The next mornin’ wuz fair and pleasant, and we got a good, early -start. We went with the democrat, and Jack wuz goin’ to set between -us after we left Delight; we put in her little willer chair in -front, and Jack sot in that till we left her. - -I had put on my second best black alpaca dress and my black bunnet -that I had mourned for Mother Allen in; it wuz jest as good as it -ever wuz. Mournin’ for a mother-in-law hain’t so hard on clothes as -mournin’ for your own parents. It wuz real fashionable in shape, -for you know fashions come round agin in jest about so long a time, -and I had kep’ this in a bandbox for years and years, till, lo and -behold! time, that had rolled round and round, had rolled this -right into fashion agin. It wuz a kind of poke, but not too pokey. -I also wore my black shawl I had mourned in, jest as good as new, -the nap not took off a mite. I didn’t wear my crape veil, thinkin’ -I didn’t want to look as if I wuz mournin’ too much, but I wanted -to be jest right for a connection of the Bodleys by marriage. - -Josiah acted kinder sot about dressin’ for the funeral. He would -wear his pepper and salt suit. I told him it didn’t look half so -well as black at a funeral. - -“Well,” sez he, “I hain’t a-goin’ to mourn much.” - -Sez I, “You could jest as well mourn what you calculate to in a -black suit as a gray one.” - -But, no, he would do jest as he wanted to, and contended that he -should wear it, for he didn’t lay out to mourn a great deal. He -said they wuzn’t any real relation to us, and they wuz on my side -what they wuz, and, sez he, “I lay out to wear a pale-blue necktie.” - -But I broke that up. He couldn’t find it at the last minute, and -had to wear a black one. Jack had on his little blue suit, but I -tied a black ribbon round his neck under his collar; he looked -good, anyway. We left Delight to home and went on, with Jack -settin’ between us and askin’ questions most all the time. - -We got to the house about half-past ten--the funeral wuz at eleven. -We could told the house anyway, there wuz so many teams standin’ -round the door and in front of the barn, and horses hitched all -along the fence, and they had took down a length of fence by the -orchard and lots of teams wuz hitched in there. There wuz top -buggies, one or two autos, democrats, double wagons with chairs in -’em for seats, and one or two buckboards and some bicycles leanin’ -aginst the piazza steps. There wuz lots of folks present; Grandma -Bodley wuz respected. - -We went through the front door into the big, lonesome-lookin’ hall, -the light comin’ through fanlights by the side and over the door -with narrer green paper curtains in front of ’em. The parlor and -settin’ room wuz to each side of the hall, and to the end of it -wuz a big, old-fashioned kitchen, part of it carpeted, which they -used for a winter dining room; the summer kitchen wuz back on’t. -The chairs wuz all put in the parlor--where the body wuz--for the -family to set on, and in the settin’ room and kitchen long boards -wuz put, the ends layin’ on kags and sap buckets. And the neighbors -had filled these seats full, for in such lonesome neighborhoods a -funeral is about the only break in the monotony of life, and they -are attended with avidity. - -Jest as we went in the hall Hamen and his wife come down the front -stairs. She wuz dressed in deep black from head to foot, and had a -long crape veil she had borrowed for the occasion over her face, -and a black-bordered handkerchief. She looked real smart, havin’ -forgot herself and her various diseases in the sad excitement of -the occasion. Alzina follered her, dressed in a dark alpacky, her -usual dress which she wore whilst she wuz tuggin’ along takin’ care -of the deceased day and night; but her eyes wuz red and swelled up -with weepin’, and she wuz real pale. I wuz sorry for Alzina. Anna -and Cicero follered, and then the other married sister and her -children, and then Grandma Bodley’s brother’s family, and other -distant relations. I laid out to fall into the procession long to -the last of it, but at the last minute I missed Josiah, and found -him in the settin’ room settin’ on a board near the door, and I -whispered to him and told him to come on into the parlor. - -And he whispered back, “I told you I wuzn’t goin’ to mourn much, -and I hain’t.” I couldn’t move him no more than I could the board -he wuz settin’ on. But for the sake of decency and on Jack’s -account I went into the parlor with him, but I sot down pretty nigh -the door so as to compromise between my partner and duty. - -Well, the sermon wuz pretty long, but scriptural, no doubt; it was -a bashful young preacher, and his first funeral sermon, almost his -first sermon at all; and then I guess the singin’ onnerved him--it -wuz dretful. The hymn wuz Grandma Bodley’s favorite, and chose by -Alzina: - - “There is a calm for those who weep, - A rest for weary pilgrims found. - They calmly lie and sweetly sleep, - Low in the ground, low in the ground.” - -But all the while they wuz singin’ I kep’ on thinkin’ that Grandma -Bodley wuz too good a woman and too good a Christian to have such -singin’ over her. It sot all the mourners off to cryin’, and no -wonder. They had a squeaky old melodeon that Tamer learned to play -on when she wuz a child, and a neighborin’ girl that played by ear -played on it; and the singers bein’ picked up that day as they come -in from different townships, they flatted and sharped them poor -hims in a way that wuz perfectly dretful; but I thought to myself, -poor Grandma has got where she can’t hear it, and this word come -right into my mind, “Blessed are the dead.” - -Well, there bein’ no regular undertaker, the bashful young -minister, after the last him wuz sung, give a notice that wuz -dretful mixed up, and sounded more as if he had invited the corpse -to walk round and view the congregation than visey versey. A way -wuz cleared round the coffin, and the folks from the kitchin all -filed in first and walked round the coffin and then went out -through the parlor bedroom door into the kitchen and outdoors, -and then the folks in the settin’ room did the same, and then the -mourners. - -Jack, the first minute he got a chance, squeezed in in front of -all the rest and wouldn’t move on. Grandma Bodley looked calm and -peaceful; she had lived a Christian and died one, and the peace -of God wuz wrote down on her forward. Her lips and eyes that had -smiled so many times on less happy souls wuz closed peaceful. Her -hands, that had gin blessin’s and help to so many emptier hands, -wuz folded, and she looked glad to be at rest. But Jack kep’ eyin’ -her so with such a strange, searchin’ look it made me feel queer. -Grandma looked so peaceful and Jack so watchful of her I felt -curious and couldn’t deny it. After all the rest had gone out he -kep’ up that same stiddy watchin’, and he not sayin’ anything, nor -she nuther. - -Well, way along that evenin’ when we had got back from the funeral, -for I told Tamer the house wuz so full I would take Jack home with -me agin, and after we had had supper, and it wuz gittin’ along most -bedtime, Jack come up and laid his head aginst my shoulder and sez: - -“Aunt Samantha, I didn’t miss anything.” - -Sez I, “What do you mean, Jack?” - -“I wuz on the lookout to-day, and I couldn’t see that anything wuz -gone. You know you said part of grandma had gone to Heaven, and -I kep’ a good watch all day, and I couldn’t see but what she wuz -all there; her head wuz there, and her hands, and I couldn’t see a -thing wuz missin’, unless it wuz her tongue. I didn’t see that, but -I spozed it wuz in her mouth, she most always kep’ it there, and I -can’t make out what you meant, for you always are shure nuff; you -don’t fool anybody as most everybody duz.” - -And then I had to go all over the ground agin and tried to be -patient, and bein’ on a solemn and grand subject, onbeknown to -myself I soared a little and spoke of the happy angels who had come -down from their blest abode to take dear Grandma home. And Jack -interrupted me with big shinin’ eyes: - -“Do you spoze if I had been there I could have seen ’em?” - -“No, Jack, I am afraid not. I am afraid we hain’t good enough.” - -“Don’t you believe if I wuz dretful, awful good I could see the tip -end of one of ’em?” And here he branched off. “I heard mother say -she wuz goin’ to carry some flowers to put on the grave. She wuz -cryin’ and said it wuz because Grandma loved ’em. And I want to -take over a little mite of Bologna sassige and put on the grave; -Grandma loved it; she said she loved it better than most anything, -and I do, too. Can’t I take a little mite over, Aunt Samantha?” - -And I told him, “No, that dear Grandma had gone where she had -divine food, and would never be hungry agin; she had everything -that wuz most beautiful and blessed.” - -“Well, what makes mother carry the flowers?” - -And I sez, “It will make your mother feel better, Jack, that’s all.” - -“Well, it would make me feel better to carry the b’lona. What’s the -difference?” And I sithed and wuz at my wits’ end to explain the -difference to him, and don’t spoze I did after all my outlay of -breath, and, as Jack said, what wuz the difference? And I repeated -it to myself as I wuz ondressin’ goin’ to bed--“What wuz the -difference?” - -And Josiah thought I wuz talkin’ to him, and sez, “What? There -hain’t any.” - -And I replied to myself, for the subject hanted me, “But it would -be a town’s talk.” - -And Josiah said, “What of it? What if it wuz? The town don’t know -everything.” And he wuz half asleep and didn’t know what he wuz -talkin’ and disputin’ about, nor I nuther, and we settin’ ourselves -up and callin’ ourselves smart. Well, though it is like hitchin’ -the democrat to the old mare’s foretop for a few minutes, I spoze -I might as well tell what Jack told me afterwards how it come out. -He couldn’t seem to give up the idee of carryin’ that sassige, -and next time he see his ma carryin’ some flowers to put on the -grave, posies, too, that his Grandma couldn’t bear the smell of -when she wuz alive, said they made her sick (she never cared much -for flowers of any kind, wuz dretful practical and had cabbages and -onions growin’ right up to the front door), but Tamer wuz bound to -carry some, thinkin’ it looked well, I spoze, and agin Jack tackled -her about the sassige. Sez he, “Grandma loved it better than she -did flowers enough sight,” and his mother told him to stop such -talking instantly. - -And then sez Jack, “I got mad and told her I would take some, and -then mother said she would whip me if I mentioned the subject agin; -and then I sez, ‘B’lona,’ and then she did whip me hard. Grandma -wouldn’t have done it,” sez Jack, “and I loved her, and I’ve heard -her say lots of times that children ort to have their rights, and I -can’t see why I can’t carry over sunthin’ to lay on Grandma’s grave -jest as well as all the rest. I would love to carry some yarn, she -wuz always knittin’. She would cry if she got out of yarn, and Ma -knows it, and I wanted to carry over a little skein of blue and -white yarn, jest the color she loved best, but Ma said she would -whip me if I took a inch of yarn there, and there it is. I can’t do -nothin’ I want to.” - -And Jack whimpered a little, and I sez to him soothin’ly, “Never -mind, Jack, Grandma knows you love her, and she loves you jest as -well as she ever did, and better.” And I spoze I talked to him -over an hour on the subject, and spozed he had forgot all about -ornamentin’ the grave, he had begun to look considerable bright, -when all of a sudden he broke out real confidential: “Don’t you -think it would be a good plan if I took over a little mite of -cheese? Grandma wuz dretful fond of sage cheese.” - -Oh, dear me! I had to go all over the hull ground agin, it took -sights of patience and breath. - -But to reckon backwards. That night after Grandma Bodley’s funeral -there come up a heavy thunder shower, and I hearn Jack call out; he -slept out of our room in Delight’s little crib that night, and I -got up and went to him to try to soothe him, and I sez: - -“Jack, are you afraid?” - -His head wuz way down under the bedclothes, I could only see -the ends of one or two curly locks, and I sez agin, still more -soothin’ly: - -“Can’t you trust the hand, Jack, that leads you through fair days? -That same hand is leadin’ you through storms, Jack; can’t you trust -Him?” - -And Jack answered from way down under the bedclothes, “I am -trusting Him jest as hard as I can, Aunt Samantha, and I am most -skairt to death.” - -Thinks I to myself how much like old believers that is: we trust -the Lord jest as hard as we can, and yet oft-times we are most -skairt to death - - “When any waves of trouble rise - Acrost our peaceful breasts.” - -Well, Hamen and Tamer stopped for Jack a few days after that; they -had stayed a day or two with Alzina to help her settle things. -They offered her a home with them, so Tamer said, and she thought -it wuz very foolish and onreasonable in her to stay there in that -big house all alone when she stood ready to give her a home and do -everything for her. And I told her I presumed Alzina would ruther -be independent. - -“Independent, Samantha? I don’t know what you mean. I guess my -sister would feel independent in my house; it would be her home -jest as much as it is mine. Of course, I should’nt have to keep a -girl if she lived with me, for I know she would want to take hold -and help me; she would feel better for it; but she would have a -good home and some one to take care of her.” But, thinkses I, take -it with all that housework, and sinevetus and basler mengetus, and -dime novels shadin’ the background, Alzina wuz wise to stay under -her own hop vine and apple tree, but I didn’t say any more, for I -felt it wuzn’t my place. - -I hated to have Jack go, and he cried, but Tamer said he might -come down agin before long, and she asked me if I wouldn’t go with -her before long and visit with her cousin Celestine, Uncle Submit -Smith’s girl, a widder with one child, who wuz home on a visit. And -I told her I would if I possibly could. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -Josiah had to go to Jonesville that afternoon after necessaries, -and I sot all alone in my cheerful kitchen almost lost in a -train of pleasant thoughts, and some sort o’ pensive ones, and -at the same time windin’ a skein of blue-and-white clouded yarn -for Josiah’s socks, when I hearn a little rap at the side door -and opened it, and see to my surprise Miss Greene Smythe’s black -coachman, Pompey, who handed me a note from his mistress, sayin’ -she wanted me to answer it, so I told him to come in and sot him -a chair. He stood by it, twiddlin’ his cap round in his hands and -hesitatin’, but on my tellin’ him agin to set, he sot. Sidled down -into the chair, settin’ on the extreme edge of it. - -And I took out my readin’ specks and opened the note; it wuz big -and square, and had a curious-lookin’ seal on the back, with some -strange figgers and a word or two on’t, but it didn’t seem to be -spelt right; I couldn’t make out what it meant; it wuz sunthin’ -like this, Astra Castra Numan luman. - -But if she meant anything about castor oil or somebody by the -name of Newman, anybody could see that there wuzn’t any spellin’ -to it. But then, I sez to myself as I read it, though I pity such -a speller, let me not be hauty because I have had advantages and -spelt down the school repeatedly. - -So I opened the letter. It wuz a invitation for me to attend a -bazar for the benefit of the heathen at her boarding place. But, -good land! it wuz two or three weeks off, and I wondered if she -thought it would take all that time for me to do up my work and git -ready. I thought she little knew my faculty in turnin’ off work if -she did. But then I meditated mebby she thought I would have to fix -over my black alpacky dress, or bind my flannel petticoat; anyway, -I spozed it wuz all well enough. - -I thought I would try to go if I could, and sot down to write her -a note, and thought I would write it as near like hers as I could, -spozin’ hers wuz in the height of fashion. But on runnin’ it over -in my mind whether I could go or not, I remembered jest in the nick -of time that wuz just about the time our old hen turkey would come -off; it ort to come off the day before, but might hang fire. She -wuz settin’ on nineteen eggs under the horse barn, and I wouldn’t -run the chance of her streakin’ off to the swamp with all them -young turkeys, party or no party, so, as I didn’t want her to git -up no false hopes, I wrote: - - “Josiah Allen’s wife and Josiah presents their compliments - to Miss Greene Smythe, and they will be happy to visit her - on date mentioned if their old hen turkey hatches at the - time it ort to, and they spoze it will. - - “Yours truly, - “JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE.” - - -And then, as I see she had put in a lot of letters on one side to -kinder ornament it off, “R. S. V. P.” - -And I spoze she meant Remember Samantha--V--sunthin’ or ruther to -my Pardner. I couldn’t make out what that V did mean; mebby she -meant to hint that my pardner wuz voyalent sometimes. But, good -land! I thought that if I had been throwed round as she had by -companions, I wouldn’t go to hintin’ about somebody else’s pardner; -but, howsumever, I don’t know as that wuz what she did mean; but, -’tennyrate, the letters strung out so did look kinder noble, and -I thought I would put on more than she did, both for looks and -meanin’, so I put on mine, “W. C. I. T. C. O. B.” - -And, bein’ one that means to be square and aboveboard even in -fashionable correspondence, I put on in a postscript the meanin’ of -the letters--“We’ll come if turkey comes off before.” - -So, fashion and duty bein’ both tended to, I handed the note to -Pompey, done up in a good, large, yeller envelope, such as Josiah -uses in the cheese factory, for I see that fashion demanded a -larger one than I used in ordinary, and then I went into the pantry -and brought out a plate of fried cakes and cream cheese for him, -and he seemed real tickled; he knew the taste of my fried cakes, -for I had gin him some before when he had been down on errents for -Miss Greene Smythe, and after he had eat the cakes and cheese up to -the last crumb, he sot there still and twiddled his tall hat in his -hand and seemed to be wantin’ to ask me sunthin’ but wuz afraid to, -and finally, to relieve his misery, which wuz evident, I sez: - -“Is there anything else you wanted, Pompey?” - -And then it all come out. He wanted me to write a letter for him -to his sweetheart in old Virginia. He said they wuz engaged; he -wuz goin’ to marry her when he went back home, and he had lots of -things to tell her. He apoligized almost abjectly for askin’ me to -write, but he said he might as well ask the Mornin’ Star to write -for him as either of his ladies, they wuz so high and mighty, -never speaking’ to him only to order him round. - -Well, I told him I would write the letter, and I walked up to the -mantery piece agin and took down my pen and ink, and got out a -sheet of paper. He told me while I wuz makin’ my preparations that -he couldn’t write yet, but he said proudly he could read, he had -read a little book all though, mighty good readin’ in it, too, he -said. - -Well, I read it out as I commenced it, “Jonesville, July 17th,” but -he stopped me and sez: “I don’t want that on, anyway.” - -Sez I, “Why not?” - -“Oh, my folks won’t know nothin’ about Jonesville; begin it -Chicago; she’s got a brudder dere.” - -“But I can’t, Pompey; I must begin it where you are; it isn’t -proper to begin it Chicago.” - -“Well, den, c’mence dat lettah Bermudy Islands; she’s got a uncle -dar.” - -“Why, I can’t. You don’t live anywhere nigh Bermuda Islands.” - -“Dat makes no diffunce, Miss Allen; I want dat lettah from -somewheah they will know about. She’s done got folks in both dem -places, and she’ll know about ’em.” - -Well, I couldn’t persuade him to have it Jonesville, so I -comprimised on New York, for, thinkses I, it is in New York, and -it won’t be lyin’, anyway; and I sez, “Now, Pompey, what shall I -write?” - -“Begin it, ‘Strong drink is ragin’.’” - -“Why,” sez I, “you don’t want that in a letter.” - -“Yes, I do; I read it in my own little book. She’ll know jest how -high learnt I am when she sees dat.” - -Well, thinkses I, it is good readin’ anyhow, so I put it down. And -he went on: - -“At de las’ it stingeth like a laddah.” - -But I jest contended on that, sez I, “Why, ladders can’t sting; it -hain’t their nater.” - -Sez he, “Dey can, for my book sez so.” - -“Why,” sez I, “how can anything sting that hain’t got any stingers?” - -But he contended till I wuz wore out and thought I would put -down things jest as he told me, but I spelt it onbeknown to him -a-d-d-e-r, I would. That letter wuz the moralist letter that I ever -see, but the curiousest, every word of it wuz took from the school -book he had learnt by heart, and it ended up with “Go to the ant, -thou sluggard.” The curiousest love letter I ever see or expect to. -But it suited Pompey, and if a bo, black or white, is suited with -the letter he sends his girl, that is all that can be expected or -desired. He told me to direct it to - - “Priscilla Dinah Bones, - “Ole Foginnia.” - -And I hope it got there. I tried hard to have him tell me where in -Virginia Miss Bones lived. - -But he said everybody would know her, ole Foginnia wuz the place -she lived in, and he wouldn’t direct it anywhere else. - -So I directed it Virginia, but I left off the Old, I would. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -Well, Tamer and I had it all planned to go to Uncle Submit’s whilst -Celestine wuz there with her little girl, but at the last minute a -letter come from Tamer askin’ me if I wouldn’t come there and visit -with Celestine, as she had concluded to invite her there instead of -our goin’ to see her. There wuz some views, Tamer said, about their -house that Celestine wanted to paint, and had jest as good as told -her it would be more agreeable for us all to visit there than at -Uncle Submit’s. “Pretty cool in Celestina,” sez Tamer. - -She always put on the “teeny,” but, good land! I didn’t. I knew she -wuz named Celestine after old Aunt Celestine Butterick. I wuzn’t -goin’ to add or diminish from that good old creeter’s name, so I -always called her Celestine. - -Well, Tamer went on to say that, though it wuz pretty cool in -Celestina, but jest like her for all the world, mebby it would -be better for us to meet there, as Uncle Submit and Aunt Eunice -wuz kinder childish and mebby so many visitors would upset ’em, -and Celestina is all took up with her painting, and hain’t any -housekeeper, and the hired girl is a real shiftless one. And sez -Tamer, “Be sure you come prepared to stay a week, the children are -jest cryin’ to have you come. Anna sez, ‘Tell Aunt Samantha she -must stay a week anyway,’ and Jack has wrote you a letter which -I enclose in this. Cicero would send a message, but he is dretful -carried away with a new book he has borrowed, a splendid book, ‘The -Serpent Enchantress; or, The Doomed Fly-Away,’ it is perfectly -fascinating. I set up last night until four o’clock finishin’ it.” - -I gin a deep sithe as I read this sentence. The letter closed with -another urgent request for to come when she give me warnin’, she -would write the day Celestina come, she said, and it ended - - “Yours with devoted love, - “TAMER SMITH.” - -I laid down her epistle and took up Jack’s, it wuz printed in -big letters, and the page wuz as full of love and longin’ to see -me as it wuz with smears and ink blots, and that is goin’ to the -very extent of describin’ the love it contained. Bless his dear -little warm heart! Well, I spozed I should have to go but thought -I wouldn’t talk it over with Josiah till the day drawed near, not -wantin’ to precipitate trouble onto him till it wuz necessary, and -I knew well how wedded he wuz to my presence. - -And the next day I begun quietly and prudently to prepare for the -great Charity Bazar of Miss Greene Smythe’s. I bound over my best -woosted petticoat that wuz some frayed out round the bottom, and -mended a few broken places in the tattin’ that trimmed my white -one. I took the lace out of the neck and sleeves of my gray woosted -dress, which I laid out to wear instead of my black alpacky, -thinkin’ it looked more gay and cheerful and more adapted to the -requirements of a fashionable party in high life, I washed the lace -carefully and did it up and put it back, crimpin’ it on the edge -as I did so. I pondered on the enigma some time whether I should -look too gay, and go beyend the other church members present, if I -pinned on in front a satin bow of kinder pink ribbon that Maggie -had gin me, I held it up to the dress and see in the lookin’-glass -it looked well, but mebby a little too flantin’ and frivolous, so I -laid it back agin in the draw and made up my mind I would wear my -good old cameo pin, knowin’ that wuz safe for a Methodist member to -wear anyway, and I didn’t want to cause comments or roust up the -envy and jealousy of the other females present. - -Anon and pretty soon the night come for the great Bazar for that -Heathen, and Josiah and I started in good season, for we didn’t -want the mair and colt to be hurried, nor be hurried ourselves. We -started about half-past four P. M. I got a early breakfast that -mornin’ a-purpose to git a early dinner so’s to git a early supper. -We eat supper a quarter past four P. M. with our things all on, and -I packed up the dishes in the sink, which I seldom do, but felt -that this wuz a extra occasion, and I didn’t want to wash dishes -with my mantilly on, the tabs dribblin’ down into the water. - -Well, to go by the crossroad leading to Zoar and turnin’ off by the -Cobble Stun schoolhouse, it is only five milds to Edgewater, where -Miss Greene Smythe boards for the summer. The big summer hotel -there has as much as twenty acres of land round it, all full of -trees and windin’ walks and summerhousen, and hammocks and swings -and posy beds, and croquet grounds and baseball grounds, where they -kick each other about and lame themselves and break bones, and be -jest as fashionable as they can be, and have everything else for -their comfort. And in front of all is the clear, blue waters of -the lake, with boathousen and little boats floatin’ on the surface -jest like a flock of white geese down to our pond. - -As we driv onto the grounds on a broad gravel walk with brilliant -posy beds on each side on’t, I see closter to the house a hull lot -of men fixin’ a big tent with flags on’t and puttin’ out rows of -little lanterns on strings leadin’ from one tree to another and -standin’ out a hull lot of evergreen trees round the big tent and a -lot of smaller ones. - -The mair sort o’ pricked up its ears at the sight of so many -strange things, but kep’ right along on the path like the well -principled mair she is. But the colt bein’ younger and not so -way-wised, and I don’t believe havin’ the good principle her Ma -has, or ever will have, though Josiah sez she is likelier fur than -her Ma wuz at her age. But, ’tennyrate she made a dash into the -thickest of the crowd, and it wuzn’t till three waiters had been -upsot, by bein’ taken in their back onexpected, that my pardner -succeeded in catchin’ it. By this time the colt bein’ tangled -in the line of lanterns and one foot ketched in the rope of -evergreens, she stood still whinnerin’. And the waiters cussin’ and -swearin’ fearful, and my pardner goin’ as fur that way as he dast -with his professions and religion. He did say “dum” repeatedly, -and “gracious Heavens!” and “gracious Peter!” and all these milder -terms a deacon can use and not call it swearin’. And I, holdin’ the -mair, some excited but keepin’ my conscientiousness pretty well, -when a man come runnin’ out from the hotel that seemed to be in -authority and he quickly loosed the bands of that colt, and sent -the cussin’ waiters about their bizness and advanced onto me, it -wuz the landlord, Mr. Grabhull, I knowed him and he knowed me, and -he wuz real polite, though he looked cross as a bear, I must say. - -And he asked me if I wouldn’t alight, and if he couldn’t help me. - -And, thinkin’ I might as well, seein’ I had got there, I did alight -and git down, but refused his help, backin’ out and gittin’ down -myself with some trouble, for the steps of the democrat are high, -and I always use a chair to home to step down on, but wouldn’t ask -him for one if I had fell out, thinkin’ we had made him enough -trouble already. But the height wuz precipitous and I felt giddy, -and, when at last my feet struck solid ground I sez, instinctively, -and onbeknown to myself: - -“Thank Heaven, as the man said, that my feet are once more on visey -versey.” And then, to let him know at once why we wuz there, I took -my card of invitation out of my pocket, and sez: - -“We have come to Miss Greene Smythe’s Bazar for that Heathen.” - -“Oh, yes,” sez he, “and you would like to see her, wouldn’t you!” - -And I sez, “Yes.” And he turned towards a more secluded corner nigh -to the lake, and I ketched sight of Miss Greene Smythe settin’ in a -hammock with three young men hoverin’ round her like small planets -round the sun. Them Danglers I had hearn on, I felt sure from -their looks, they looked sort o’ danglin’ somehow. Two of ’em wore -white flannel and the other dark-blue woolen, with light-yellowish -colored shues on all on ’em, kinder slips like, one on ’em had a -banjo in his hand and one on ’em seemed to be singin’. - -She wuz dressed in white, with a great broad hat all covered with -white feathers and streamers and things, and her dress wuz white, -too, and she wuz layin’ back in the hammock on some gay-colored -cushions as easy as you please, and one of them Danglers had a big -fan and wuz fannin’ her. But even as I looked that colt broke away -from the landlord, and, bein’ skairt most to death, jest bounded -into that peaceful group and scattered it like chaff before a -whirlwind. She upset the feller with the banjo, steppin’ right into -the fiddle as she jumped clean over the hammock, one heel kickin’ -off and goin’ through that great white hat, and stepped into the -stomach of the dangler who held the fan and broke off the feller’s -song right in the most effective place, for he wuz jest singin’ in -a deep beartone: - - “Come where my love lies dreaming.” - -And, as if in answer, the colt come, one foot come square down -into them dreams, if she wuz dreamin’, and tore off more than five -yards of lace and ribbons, whilst the other one took off the big -hat, as I said, amidst her loud screams. My first thought wuz she -would have a coniption fit, and even in that minute, so practical -is my mind, I wondered what I should do without catnip or burnt -feathers. But even as I thought this she turned towards me and -see who I wuz and what had caused the fracas, for Josiah and the -landlord wuz follerin’ on in hot pursuit, whilst the old mair stood -in the background whinnerin’ to her colt, either in encouragement -or remonstrance, I couldn’t tell which. - -Miss Greene Smythe looked cross enough to eat a file at that first -look, but immegiately the young men sprung up, one gathered up her -laces and ribbons and placed ’em in her hands, another her fan and -book, and, though I am ready to testify that that first look she -gin me wuz mad as a-settin’ hen with a brindle dog round, before I -could hardly git the run of that look and set it down in my mind -memorandum, she put on a dretful warm smile, yet as queer lookin’ -as any I ever see, and I have seen queer lookin’ smiles in my day -and gin ’em, too, yes, indeed! and she come forward, holdin’ out -her hand with the lace and ribbin danglin’ from it, and sez she, -“How good of you to come, you will spend the day with me, won’t -you?” - -“Spend the day!” sez I, agast at the idee; “why, we have come to -your reception and Bazar for that Heathen, but if I had knowed -how that colt wuz goin’ to act we would tied it to the fills, we -couldn’t leave it to home, for it hain’t weaned. I feel mortified -and sorry to think it pitched into you so, and upset them -Danglers,” I wuz jest a-goin’ to say, but bethought myself and sez, -“them young chaps, I feel dretful sorry, and am willin’ to repair -damages jest so fur as I can. I’ll give you one of my hats; and -that fiddle,” sez I, “if it needs new strings I stand ready to git -’em, we have got more cats than we need round the barn, and I can -furnish a dozen strings as well as not, and I’ll tell the young man -so.” And I advanced towards ’em. - -But she hurriedly drawed me off the other way, and sez she real -warm, “How good of you, how extremely good of you to stay to the -reception!” And then she sez, lookin’ round sort o’ helplessly and -mournfully towards the Danglers, and then at me agin: - -“You--oh!--let me see--yes--you come right up into my room, and -dear Mr. Allen must come into the reading room. They have caught -the colt, I see; I will rejoin you in a minute.” - -And she slipped back to say a few words to them deserted Danglers, -who looked as helpless and queer as planets might look when through -some upheaval the sun wuz suddenly removed, and they wuz left -hangin’ round in space with nothin’ to revolve round. I thought I -hearn her say sunthin’ about havin’ to git a little rest, anyway; -the idee I thought of anybody goin’ to bed at that time of day, -and sunthin’ about seein’ ’em all to-night, and then she said she -wouldn’t say good-by, but awe revoir, and they all said it to -her, shakin’ hands with her and hangin’ over her hand as if they -wuz goin’ to the fur Injys as missionaries liable to be eat up by -savages, never to see her agin. - -I spoze they referred to the “awe” they felt in seein’ a young colt -like that so uncommon active, what the “revoir” meant I don’t -know, unless it wuz some man by that name who owned a colt not -nigh so smart as ourn. Yes, indeed, that colt well merits Josiah’s -enconiums so fur as smartness is concerned. He had led Mr. Grabhull -and Josiah a tegus chase, but at last, as I could see, glancin’ -towards the lake, Josiah Allen had got a firm grip onto his mane -and wuz leadin’ him back, still wearin’ the hat on his foreleg -instead of his foretop. The hat wuz spilte. - -The smartest creeters have their limitations. That colt could make -light of Danglers and fashionable wimmen, step through their hats, -tromple on ’em and leap over ’em, scatter ’em like leaves in a high -gale, but when he come bunt up aginst the lake and whinnered at -it, and it still lay calm and smooth before him and wuzn’t danted, -he gin up that the lake wuz too big a job for him to tackle and -subdue, so he stood quite meek and wuz ketched. Presently the -cavalcade drawed nigh to us, and Miss Greene Smythe repeated her -invitation that dear Mr. Allen must come right into the reading -room, where he would find all the last papers. - -“Is the World there?” sez Josiah, prickin’ up his ears at the idee, -he wuz all tuckered out and wanted to set down and rest. “Oh, yes,” -sez she, “the Weekly, the Daily, and the Sunday World. I will have -a couple of waiters bring those papers to you,” sez she. - -“Yes,” sez I, “they are hefty.” - -Well, I see that Josiah wuz full of happiness in a quiet corner -of that big readin’ room overlookin’ the lake, for there wuzn’t -hardly a soul in it at that time, and his beloved papers stacked -up in front of him some like a small haystack, he wuz fairly -overrunnin’ with contentment. Mr. Grabhull had led the colt towards -the stables, havin’ persuaded it to lay off its hat, and one of the -waiters wuz leadin’ the old mair. - -Then I turned and silently follered Miss Greene Smythe up to her -room. Lots of men wuz to work hangin’ draperies and puttin’ flowers -up on the walls, and strings of evergreens and ribbins and makin’ -it dretful pretty. But Miss Greene Smythe led the way through -’em all into what she called her boodore, and there she gin me a -rockin’ chair and I sot down, she asked me to lay off my things, -but I told her I guessed I wouldn’t take off my bunnet, bein’ as I -would have to put it on so quick, but I loosened the strings and -took off my mantilly, carefully foldin’ the tabs as I did so and -holdin’ it in my lap. She called a fashionably dressed girl with a -cap on, who wuz to work on a pile of satin drapery when we went in, -to come and take my mantilly. But I told her I jest as lives hold -it in my lap, as I should want to put it on so soon. - -She looked sort o’ wonderin’ and went back to her work. I see, on -lookin’ closter, that it wuz a dress of pale-blue satin with a deep -velvet train, and she wuz puttin’ on the waist strings of gems of -all colors, and that skirt! I am tellin’ you the livin’ truth, that -velvet train wuz as long as from our bedroom to the parlor door, -and I d’no but it wuz as long as from our bedroom acrost the hall -into the spare room, ’tennyrate it wuz the longest skirt I ever see -or expect to see, all lined with pale-pink satin. - -Miss Greene Smythe sez, “I am to be Queen Elizabeth in full court -dress. Here is my collar,” sez she, “and my crown,” and she -showed a immense collar of white lace and a crown all covered -with precious stuns in flowers and figgers, it fairly glittered -and shone like the posy bed in the early mornin’ when the dew is -shinin’ on it. - -“I have combined,” sez she, “a Bazar, a reception, and a fancy -dress ball, for there will be dancing after supper is served.” - -“What time is supper?” sez I, for I scented trouble ahead. - -“Oh, about one,” sez she. - -Sez I aghast, “Do you mean one o-clock at night?” - -“Yes,” sez she. - -“What time do you begin the doin’s?” sez I. - -“Oh, the Bazar will be opened at ten, the reception at twelve, the -dancing beginning after supper, about two o-clock.” - -“For the land’s sake!” sez I; “for the land’s sake!” and I leaned -back in my chair perfectly overcome by the programmy. And sez I, -“What time do you end up?” - -“Oh, we may be through about sunrise, but if it is later it is no -matter, for the rooms will be darkened and we can dance until nine -o’clock, if we choose.” - -I wuz speechless with my emotions; I couldn’t quell ’em and didn’t -want to, but Miss Greene Smythe didn’t notice ’em, for she seemed -all took up tellin’ her maid where to put the gorgeousest of the -gems she wuz sewin’ onto the satin, and then she sez sunthin’ about -seein’ Medora a minute and handed me a hull lapfull of books and -magazines, and sayin’ sunthin’ to the girl about refreshments, she -left the room. I wuz settin’ tryin’ to read them magazines she had -piled in my lap, but I didn’t git much interested in ’em, for they -wuz all about fashions and boleros, which I had always thought -wuz some kind of a Mexican steer, but found out it wuz sunthin’ -to wear, and reveres, which sounded well, but meant fashionable -clothing, and so on lots of other strange names and descriptions, -but I didn’t care much for ’em. - -Well, I had turned ’em over and had jest lit on sunthin’ so -important that they put it even into a fashionable magazine, a -long description of a football race and a college athletic contest -in which two young men had got maimed for life and one killed -outright, and more’n two hundred drunk as fools, and I wuz readin’ -it with horrow when my companion come up crazy with a new idee, he -had heard there wuz goin’ to be a fancy ball, and he wanted to join -it in costoom and attend the ball. - -Sez I, “Josiah Allen, I shall not stay here till twelve P. M., but, -if I wuz goin’, I should go as myself, and not as anybody else.” - -“Why,” sez he, “the fancy dress is goin’ to be first. We can jine -in that and then go home, for I don’t want to dance,” sez he. - -“I should think as much,” sez I coldly; “a deacon, and most dead -with rheumatiz, to say nothin’ of the grandchildren, why,” sez I, -“one pigeon wing, or one goin’ down through the middle, or all -hands round, would crumple you right up and be the death of you.” - -“Well, I told you explicitly that I didn’t lay out to dance, nor -didn’t ask you to.” - -Sez I coldly, “If you did it would be a outlay of politeness that -would be throwed away. Dance!” sez I, “when I can’t git up or set -down without groanin’, and my principles like iron.” - -“Well, well, who said they wuzn’t? I told you we wouldn’t dance -this evenin’, but,” sez he impressively, “we can dress up fancy, or -I can, and swing out for once and be fashionable and gay.” - -“I would like to know where you can git your things to swing out -in, and what character you would represent and what dress you would -go in.” - -“Well,” sez he, crossin’ his legs and lookin’ real contented and -happy, “I thought I would go as a child.” - -“As a child!” sez I, astounded at his idee. - -“Yes,” sez he, “as a babe. I have planned it all out; I could -slip over to the store, this summer store they have got here to -accommodate the boarders, and buy twenty yards or so of sheetin’, -you could use it afterwards for sheets, you know, and you could -pin it onto me and tie it round the waist with a pale-blue sash. I -could buy a couple of yards of blue cambric and you could tear it -into, and tie it round my waist with a big bow, and there I would -be a babe.” - -“What would you do with your whiskers?” sez I coldly. “And your -wrinkles and your gray bald head?” - -“By Jimminy!” sez he, “I forgot them.” - -He see himself, as quick as his attention wuz drawed to it, that a -babe in long white dresses ortn’t to have gray whiskers and a bald -head. - -“Well,” sez he, “what do you say to a Pirate or a Bandit chief? I -could buy a piece of red and yeller creeton, figgered, and a piece -of striped for a sash. They’re always depictered in dime novels -as bein’ very dressy with feathers, and I could kinder jam in the -top of my hat and put some feathers in it, I could buy a couple of -turkey wings of Nate Enders, he deals in turkeys, and I have to go -most to his house to go to the store--what do you say, Samantha? -Or, would you go as a Shepherd Boy, or how would you go?” - -I wuz wore out, and I sez, “I would go as a natteral fool, Josiah, -and you wouldn’t have to buy anything or change a mite to do it.” - -“Yes, there it is; keep right on, I never knew it to fail in my -life; I never yet got a chance to enter fashionable life and show -off a little but you tried to break it up.” Sez he still more -pitiful, “I always wanted to look fancy, Samantha, and you’ve never -seemed willin’. I don’t say that you are jealous of my looks, for -I don’t think you are any such a woman, but I will say it looks -queer, but now there is a chance for me to look gay, and I am goin’ -to embrace it.” - -Jest that minute the girl with the cap on come into the room agin, -and I nudged him to keep still, but he wouldn’t. I enticed him over -to the winder and argued with him there. My voice wuz real low, -but he wuz so excited and spoke so loud the girl must have got a -inklin’ of what he wuz sayin’, and, seein’ the dilemma I wuz in, -she spoke right up and sez with her queer little axent: - -“They wuz not all to appear in Fancy Dress, it wuz for the young -mostly, the aged were not expected to appear in costume.” - -And that madded Josiah more than ever; he duz want to appear young; -he don’t grow old as graceful as I could wish, and he hollered out: - -“Where are your aged folks? I don’t see any. I am in the prime of -life myself, and, as for Samantha, she don’t have to wear a cap, -anyway.” - -“No, Moseer,” sez she, real polite, but she contended firm as iron, -bein’ my friend, as I could see, that “Madam and Moseer would not -be expected to appear in costoom.” - -“Well, Modom can do as she is a mind to,” sez he, mocking the -girl’s way of pronouncin’ Madame, and it did sound some like -swearin’, but I didn’t mind, “Modom can do as she is a mind to, but -I am goin’ in costoom.” - -But I whispered to him and sez, “When perfect strangers warn you -for your good, Josiah Allen, mebby you’ll listen to ’em if you -won’t to me.” I won’t put down the words he replied to me in a -savage whisper, nor his answer to my arguments, no it hain’t -best, he is my pardner, and I took him for better or worse, and -why should I flinch when the worst appears? No, I will pass over -the time till I got him subsided in a big armchair by my side (no -wonder he wuz tired) readin’ a portion of his World that he had -brung up in his hand. - -The girl looked feelin’ly at me as he sot there, still mutterin’ -occasionally, and she went out, and a little while after a waiter -appeared with a tray full of good vittles, splendid. Whether that -girl is married or single, she knows men’s naters and what is the -soothinest emolyent to apply to ’em. As he helped himself to -the third helpin’ of nice, tender chicken with accompaniments of -creamed potatoes and toast and coffee, good as I can make a most, -his mean relaxed and he put on a less madder look, and as he took -the fourth slice of some good cake and jelly, his axent wuz almost -tender as he sez, “Well, Samantha, my dear, when had we better go -down and jine the party?” - -“There hain’t any party to jine now, but if you feel like it we -will go down pretty soon and walk round the grounds and along the -lake till the company comes, and,” sez I, “if I had mistrusted -before I left home that this thing didn’t begin till after bedtime, -I wouldn’t have stirred a step, and wouldn’t, anyway, if it hadn’t -been for that Heathen, but sence we are here we might as well stay -and see some of it, and then go home.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “it won’t be no worse than watch meetin’, anyway.” - -So this programmy wuz carried out by us. We walked round the -grounds, by this time all alive with men and wimmen and waiters -runnin’ every which way, puttin’ up lamps and lanterns and awnin’s, -and fixin’ booths and seats, etc., etc., and I thought to myself -how much that Heathen is havin’ done for him, and I wondered if he -realized it and appreciated it as he ort to. - -We walked round till we got tired and then sot down on a bench by -the lake shore, and, bein’ tired, I d’no but we fell into a drowse, -’tennyrate we rested real good. The gentle swash of the waves on -the pebbly beach sounded sort o’ soothin’ and refreshin’, jinin’ -in as it did with the soft night wind that wuz blowin’ in from the -west. Pretty soon the sun went down into the lake that looked as -if we might walk away on it clear into Glory if we tried to, and -then the stars come out and glistened in the clear sky overhead, -and the crescent moon hung in the east like a great silver hammock -for angels to lay down in and rest their wings some. And almost -simeltaneous with the stars overhead come the lightin’ of a -thousand lights around us, behind us, and before us, sparkling, -glittering, shining lights of all shapes and colors glancin’ -through the evergreen boughs and soft foliage, and hung in long -lines of brilliant color from tree to tree. The hotel looked as if -it wuz a sea of light inside, and the big tent looked as brilliant -as Aladin’s palace, and the long line of little booths on each side -looked, too, as if they had been brought from Arabia and sot down -there, so strange and brilliant they looked with gorgeous curtains -and tables all heaped up with beautiful objects to sell and lights -sparklin’ everywhere. - -Well, by the time we got rousted up and walkin’ round and viewin’ -the seen the music had struck up in a tent by itself, enchantin’ -music that seemed to roust up our souls and bodies, too. Pretty -girls and handsome wimmen wuz standin’ behind the tables in them -little booths sellin’ their wares for the benefit of that Heathen -to the brilliant crowd that wuz beginnin’ to fill the walks and -tents, a brilliant crowd indeed, for every costoom of every age wuz -represented. - -And they wuz so beautiful, and the music wuz so soft and -enchantin’, that I did wish that Heathen could have looked on -that seen that wuz bein’ done for him. I believe it would have -shamed him if he had any shame, and he wouldn’t eat up any more -missionaries, not for some time, anyway, but then, as I told -Josiah, he probable wouldn’t feel to home here and probable wuzn’t -dressed decent for the occasion. - -And he sez, pintin’ to a woman who wuz walkin’ round locked arms -with a man and holdin’ a gold eyeglass to her eye, “I d’no but he -would feel to home with her.” - -And, as I looked on her, I see my pardner wuz right, her waist wuz -jest a mockery of a waist, a belt and a string over her shoulder -wuz about all, and her arms bare to her shoulders, only some gloves -drawed on part way. I drawed him away at a good jog and walked him -into what I thought wuz a place of safety, but, good land! I see -I had got him into a worse place by far, for whereas there had -been only one female heathen, as you may say, here wuz more than a -dozen. I was so took up with the seen that I didn’t realize what -wuz about us till I hearn Josiah gin a low chuckle, and I sez: - -“What is the matter, Josiah Allen?” - -And he sez, “Oh, nothin’.” But as I looked round I see plain what -he wuz chucklin’ over, and I hurried him away. As we went, he sez: - -“You no need to worried, Samantha, about that naked Heathen not -feelin’ to home.” - -“Well,” sez I, “they have got clothes enough on from their waist -down.” I will stand up for my sect, anyway. - -“Yes,” sez Josiah, “if these wimmen and girls would take some of -the silk and gauzes that are straingin’ down on the ground to cover -up their nakedness they would look better, enough sight.” - -Sez I, “You hain’t obleeged to look on ’em.” - -“Well,” sez he, real impatient, “put girl blinders on me if you -want to, but I have got to look round some till you do.” - -[Illustration: I DRAWED HIM AWAY AT A GOOD JOG, AND WALKED HIM INTO -WHAT I THOUGHT WUZ A PLACE OF SAFETY. - - _Page 254._] - -And I sez, “We will go into the booths and trade a little.” Here -he groaned pitiful, but I reminded him that the Heathen had got to -be helped some by us, and he sez, “That Heathen has more done for -him than I have, enough sight.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -We had hard work to git through the gorgeous lookin’ crowd, -every country and every nation wuz represented. Queens, flashin’ -with jewels; flower girls, carryin’ baskets of flowers; kings, -cardinals, monks, officers in brilliant uniform, fairies, Night -covered with stars and a pale pearl moon in her forehead, and -Mornin’ dressed in a rosy cloud with a sunburst of diamonds on her -brow; Injuns, male and female, clad in short embroidered skirts -and leggins and feathers in their long, straight locks. Eastern -men and wimmen with long flowin’ robes, the wimmen with veils on, -the men with strange simeters and weepons at their sides. And, in -fact, think of any costoom under the sun and there it wuz before -you. And, sure enough, the girl wuz right, lots and lots of folks -appeared in their own clothes and wuz here as themselves. - -Well, at last we come to the first booth, and I bought a little -fan and a mite of a handkerchief for Delight, both dearer than -beautiful, but havin’ that sufferin’ Heathen in my mind I paid -quite cheerful, Josiah groanin’ some at the money I lavished on -them two articles. But I whispered, “Remember what is said of the -cheerful giver. Groans don’t become this enterprise and occasion, -Josiah Allen.” - -And then, hearin’ the money clink merrily down into the boxes of -the booth tenders, I sez almost onbeknown to myself to the pretty -girl who wuz doin’ up my things: - -“I hope it hain’t goin’ to make him vain and overbearin.” And she -asked me who I meant? - -And sez I, “Why, that Heathen; he’ll be rich as a Jew by mornin’. I -am most afraid such onexpected riches will make him hold his head -and feet up above his mates.” Sez I, “If everything is sold as high -as the things you’ve sold me, he will be independent rich.” She -kinder laughed and said, “Oh, you know that things sold for charity -are always higher priced.” - -“Oh, I don’t begrech the money, not at all, and shouldn’t if I -didn’t git nothin’ back. I wuz always sorry for that Heathen, and -am glad to take holt and help him, but,” sez I, “I wuz wonderin’ -what effect such sudden wealth would have on him, whether it would -quell down his appetite for missionaries, or whet it up, you know -you can never tell what sudden prosperity will do to anybody’s -character.” - -And she said, with a kinder shrewd look, that she guessed that -the Heathen wouldn’t be enriched to any alarmin’ extent, for, sez -she, lookin’ round the almost enchantin’ seen and down onto her -own gorgeous costoom, “The expenses to-night have been something -enormous, and the Heathen can’t have anything till the expenses are -paid. And then,” she said, “it is very expensive to get the funds -carried so far.” - -“Why, yes,” sez I, “I know there would have to be a money order -bought or sunthin’ of that kind.” But she smiled and went to wait -on her next customers, and who should they be, for all the world, -but my own son and daughter, Thomas J. and Maggie? They wuz real -glad to see their Pa and Ma, and showed it. She looked very sweet -in a thin, black lace dress, a white lace bunnet with some pink -and white flowers in it, and some posies of the same color in her -belt and bosom, white gloves and a white fan completed her pretty -costoom. I wuz glad enough to see she, too, had come as herself, -and so had Thomas J. come as himself. She bought a number of -articles, and Thomas J. did, too. - -But when I told them of my misgivin’s about the sudden wealth -settin’ up the Heathen too much, and wished that I could talk to -him a spell about the vanity of riches and the needecessity of his -behavin’ himself as he ort to under his sudden change of fortune, -Thomas J. said, “No need to worry, Mother, the Heathen won’t git -enough out of this to hurt his character.” And he sez, when I -commented on the fairy-like beauty of the seen: - -“Yes, it is quite a change from a seen I witnessed to-day in -Jonesville” (he is real charitable, Thomas J. is). “I found a -family starving, Mother, really suffering for food--think of that, -not five miles from here. The father and mother sick with fever, -the children too young to work, they were too proud to beg, but at -last they did send for me; I used to know the man. And Maggie and I -carried enough to them for the present, and I sent for the doctor. -We must all take hold and help them out, Mother, they are deserving -and honest.” - -And I told him warmly that I would. I would carry them a sack of -flour and some butter and meat in the morning. - -And Josiah sez, “Half a sack will do, won’t it? They can’t bake.” - -And I sez, “You are right, Josiah, I will bake the bread and carry -to them, and cook the meat.” - -And Thomas J. resoomed, “Right round this very place, Mother, -within five miles, I will find you fifty families where children -are suffering for food and clothing.” - -Sez Josiah (he don’t love to give and wuz afraid of the dreen on -his resources if I took it into my head to succor the hull fifty -families), “in lots of places the parents are lazy or drink.” - -“But,” sez I warmly, “the children are not to blame, they are more -to be pitied.” - -“That is so, Mother,” sez Thomas J. - -“But,” sez Josiah, “the town ort to take care on ’em.” - -“Sometimes they are too proud to apply to the town,” sez Thomas J. - -Josiah wuz openin’ his mouth to argy some more (he is dretful -clost) when we felt and heard a great commotion runnin’ through -the crowd, we wuz standin’ out a little to one side, and Thomas -J. spoke real low, he had too good taste to openly show that -he thought that Heathen might divide up a little with native -sufferers. But, on advancin’ a little, we see the cause of the -excitement. Miss Greene Smythe wuz advancin’ out of the hotel -towards the big tent where she wuz goin’ to stand, and all who -wanted to wuz led in by a usher to take her hand and kiss it, or -jest shake it, as they wanted to. - -Well, she wuz a sight, a sight as she passed onwards. She wuz -dressed as Queen Elizabeth in that identical dress I had seen -with the boddist a mass of jeweled embroidery, a great white ruff -standin’ up round her face, with strings of precious stuns hung -round her neck and blazin’ in her crown and strung on her dress -everywhere, and her velvet skirt behind her trailin’ more than as -fur from our front door to the gate, or so it seemed, all held up -by two pages, as they called ’em. But I recognized their faces; -they wuz two of the Danglers, I could see, with fancy dresses on, -one pink satin and the other pale yellow, and their satin knee -breeches only come down to their knees, where they wuz met by long -silk stockin’s with glitterin’ buckles on ’em and their low slips. -They had wigs powdered real gray and braided up on their backs -with ribbin bows on ’em. And the one who locked arms with her, -walkin’ by her side, they called him Leicester, but I knowed him, -he wuz the other Dangler. He wuz dressed in a white satin suit, -embroidered jacket, and knee breeches, and his breast all covered -with orders, stars and crosses, all a blaze of jewels. - -He walked clost by her side, carryin’ her fan, which wuz also -shining with precious stuns, and he wuz fannin’ her most of the -time. And the other two Danglers wuz jealous as I could see. I -could see ’em knit their eyebrows, and I thought I hearn ’em -grate their teeth. But I know I see ’em shake their fists at him -onperceived by the gay crowd, so hollow is fashionable life, and -so the worm of jealousy gnaws even the empty breast of a Dangler. -Well, she entered the big tent follered by some Maids of Honor, -Medora wuz one of ’em, and Courtiers and Lords in Waiting, as I -hearn ’em called, and took up her position in the centre of the big -tent on a sort of dais, they called it. I should call it a little -platform covered with a velvet rug with the throne on it, a big -chair, I guess, covered with handsome drapery. And the folks went -up to speak to her, lots of the men, foolish lookin’ creeters, too, -Kings and Cardinals and such, knelt down at her feet and kissed her -hand. - -Thomas J. didn’t, no, indeed! he addressed her as I remembered -afterwards as, “Your Royal Highness.” I never thought on’t at that -time, or I would mebby jined in the play, but somebody pushed on -ahead of Josiah and me, and Thomas J. and Maggie wuz swep’ on by -the crowd, so when I paused before her I jest sez, “How do you do, -Miss Greene Smythe?” And, bein’ all wrought up about that Heathen, -I couldn’t seem to help tacklin’ her then and there, for I felt -that a delay of even a day or two might be too late, sez I, “You -have got a splendid show here to-night and money is flowin’ like -water for that Heathen, but for mercy sake don’t let that money go -to him without a letter goin’ at the same time to warn that Heathen -of the deceitfulness of riches, for I d’no,” sez I, “but he would -break out and kick higher and devour more missionaries than ever if -he hain’t warned in time.” - -She smiled sort o’ queer, and Leicester whispered sunthin’ to her -and sort o’ giggled, but I wuzn’t goin’ to be danted by a Dangler, -I turned my attention to him for a minute, “You know,” sez I, “how -soon pride can be overthrowed and trompled on.” - -His face changed in a minute, the heels of that colt seemed to -enter his stomach agin, and he looked browbeat and mortified. The -Danglers behind her clapped their hands softly and seemed to enjoy -my remarks dretfully. But the crowd wuz pressin’ on my rear and -time wuz passin’, and I sez agin: “Come and see me if you can, -before you send that money; I have got a number of Bible verses I -would love to put in that letter, and a few tracks.” - -She smiled agin that sort of a queer smile, and the crowd bore us -on, I feelin’ the sweet calm of one who hasn’t shrunk from duty. -Well, Josiah wuz bound to go into the big tent where more vittles -wuz spread out than it seemed a hull army could eat, everything -dainty and luxurious and rich wuz spread before us--kroketts, -pattys, salads, cakes of every kind, some on ’em big as a big -cheese, all covered with wreathes of posies made in the frostin’, -and smaller ones of every shape and kind, and jellies heaped up in -every color and form, all on ’em pretty, and moulds of ice-cream of -all colors, frozen in pyramids and stars and musical instruments -and everything else, and great banks of flowers banked up behind -’em, and tall vases of flowers standing amongst ’em, it wuz a -sight, a sight. - -Josiah enjoyed himself here the best that ever wuz, and we had a -quiet corner all to ourselves, but anon, when so much time had -passed that I fondly imagined his hunger must be slaked, the crowd -had come in till the tent wuz full, and one man behind us spoke to -another one: “The wine flows here to-night like water.” - -“Yes, champagne, too; this spread must cost something.” - -“Yes,” sez the other, “I guess old Greene Smythe will realize it -when the bills come in.” - -But I waited to hear no more. I ketched holt of Josiah’s arm, and -sez I, “Let us flee from this place to once!” - -And he sez, “Why?” - -And I sez, “Ask no questions but foller me.” He hung back, but see -I wuz firm. I had noticed that folks wuz drinkin’ sunthin’ out of -glasses, not good, respectable coffee like my pardner and me, but -spozed it wuz lemonade or sweetened water and vinegar, little did -I think I had got into a winebibbers’ resort. But I see it wuz too -true, for as we went out of the tent on another side I see a punch -bowl as big as our caldron kettle and two pretty girls ladlin’ out -the wretched stuff to the waitin’ crowd. We didn’t leave a minute -too soon, but after we got outside Josiah sez: - -“Now, will you tell why you snaked a hungry man away from his food? -If it wuz anything besides pure meanness now is your time to tell -it.” - -So I told him the fearful fact, and sez, “Josiah Allen, look not -upon wine when it is read.” - -“Champagne hain’t red, nor punch, nuther.” - -“Its effects are red with heart’s blood all the same.” - -“Dum it all!” sez he, “don’t you spoze I know enough to not drink -liquor when I am a Good Templar?” - -Sez I, “Better men than you have been drawn away from the straight -path, Josiah. Look at David,” and I wuz jest about to bring up -Solomon and Noah, but he interrupted: - -“I hain’t goin’ into no Bible controversy at this time of night, -nor no dum W. C. T. U. talk.” - -“Time of night,” sez I; “well said, Josiah Allen. Do you realize it -is after twelve P. M.? We can’t git home till after half-past one if -we start this minute.” - -He recognized the wisdom of my remark, but still hankered, I could -see, for some more vittles. And knowin’ the needecessity of the -case, I sez, “It won’t take me but a minute to bile the teakettle; -I will git supper after we git home; I have got everything baked -up.” At this remark he yielded, and we walked along arm in arm, -for I still felt there wuz danger of his breakin’ away from me -and goin’ back into that place of temptation, and as we went by a -good-sized tent, standin’ a little to one side, I heard the voice -as of one elocutin’, and I immegiately sez to Josiah, “Less go in -here a minute, I dearly love eloquence.” - -“Yes,” sez he, “I can go in and hear ‘Curfew Must Not Ring -To-Night,’ it will be a dretful treat!” and he added bitterly, -“there hain’t a dog in Jonesville but what knows that, and will run -from it; but I can tell you, Samantha Allen, Curfew will git tired -of ringin’ for us if we don’t start some time.” - -Sez I mildly, “I love to see folks act with some evenness. I -couldn’t git you started from bodily food a few minutes ago, and -now I want to feed my mind hunger a little you are in a dretful tew -to start.” - -“Well, come on then,” he sez. “I may as well starve here as on -the road!” and he hurried me into the tent. But it wuzn’t “Curfew -Musn’t Ring To-Night,” it wuz another piece, a sort of a tragedy, -and spoke real good; the young woman did first rate. - -Then the band played another piece, and then there wuz a great -buzz of talkin’ and laughin’ goin’ on, but pretty soon Miss Greene -Smythe, who had come in on one side of the tent with her Danglers -danglin’ and her Lords in Waitin’ a-waitin’ and her Maids of Honor -honerin’, etc., etc., she stepped forward a little and sort o’ -shooed down the biggest noise about her, and when it wuz kinder -still she said: - -“We are going to have a great treat; we are going to have some -b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l music.” - -At that a girl minced forward with kinder nippy steps and planted -herself on the little raised platform and begun to yell and scream -at the very top of her voice with her face lookin’ like a trout -havin’ a fit, you know what immense mouths they’ve got. Well, if -yellin’ wuz a treat we got it. That female jest yelled herself -red as blood in the face, and on the very topmost notes lifted -herself up on her toes and shook herself as if she wuz goin’ into -a spazzum, and finally stepped back fairly exhausted and pantin’. -Miss Greene Smythe advanced and shook hands with her and told her -what a sweet treat they had had, and how splendidly in voice she -wuz to-night. And so she wuz if a car whistle or gong is ever in -voice when it is rippin’ out its loudest, ear-pan-crushinest notes. - -But I wuz wonderin’ all the time when the music that Miss Greene -Smythe had spoke about wuz goin’ to commence, and I turned and -accosted a female woman who stood right by the side of me, and who -seemed to be guardin’ a brood of girls, she seemed to be watchin’ -’em as clost as any old hen ever watched a brood of ducks she’d -hatched, but kinder mistrusted, not knowin’ what move they might -make. - -But thinkses I she’d better begun her watchin’ and care before she -left home, for of all the sights they wuz I never see since I wuz -weaned, I don’t believe I ever see such low necks in my hull life -as they had, the hull caboodle on ’em. Why, my pardner jest glanced -at ’em and blushed as red as a piney. I wuz proud on him to see his -modesty, and instinctively stepped still furder between him and -them. The Ma’s neck wuz kinder fat and flabby and wrinkly, and the -girls’, the most on ’em, wuz real boney and scrawny. But one on ’em -wuz quite fat and had a real pretty figger, I know, for I could see -the hull on it, bones, fat or lean, they wuz all showed off to be -read by man or woman. But to resoom. I asked this woman when the -music wuz goin’ to commence? - -“Why,” sez she, wonderin’, “we’ve had it.” - -Sez I, “Wuz that music?” - -She said, “Yes.” - -“Well,” sez I, “I have seen strange sights since I come here and -hearn strange things, but none stranger than that, if that wuz -music. Why,” sez I, “I might have heard it for years and years and -never mistrusted what it wuz.” - -“Well,” she said, “it wuz music, and be-a-utiful.” - -Jest then a young feller come in with a dark, eager, earnest face -and sung a love song. - -That wuz music. It wuz a song about how a slave loved a Princess, -and as you heard it you could almost see the shinin’ palm boughs, -the splash of the fountain, the white, shinin’ walks of the palace, -and the beautiful dark-eyed Princess lookin’ down from her latticed -window listenin’ to the words, every one of ’em had a heart throb, -a heart ache in it. For he said in the song that he wuz of a race, -“Who if they loved must die.” Well, they didn’t seem to like that -very well, but I did, it made my heart ache and beat, with its -passion and its power. - -And then a modest, refined lookin’ woman with her neck and arms -covered up considerable, jest as they should be outside of -bedrooms, come forward modestly and recited a poem, as pitiful a -thing as I ever hearn in my life. About how a great, strong, manly, -lovin’ heart wuz cheated out of its happiness, its very life, by -the vanity and sinfulness of a woman and the villiany of a man, -of how he patient bore his sorrow, kneelin’ and prayin’ for her, -and blessin’ her for bearin’ with him all the time she did, and -how for his sake he begged the Lord to forgive her for runnin’ off -with the other man and leavin’ her husband and child. He lived -on heartbroken, but pious and good as they make ’em, loved her -all through her life of sin and shame, and then, when the villian -deserted her and she wuz dyin’ alone, he went to her and held her -dyin’ head on his bosom, and rared up a stun above her poor guilty -head and carved on it the sacred name of “Wife.” - -Why, they wuzn’t a dry eye in my head, not one, when she had -finished it. And, though mebby it wouldn’t be my first choice to -recite to an evenin’ party, still I wuz jest melted down by it, and -so wuz Josiah Allen, as I glanced round at him he wuz jest puttin’ -his bandanna back into his pocket and wuz winkin’ hard, he has got -a heart, Josiah Allen has. - -But all of a sudden, jest before she got through recitin’ it, -this woman with the brood of girls gathered ’em in front of her, -as if danger wuz behind her, and shooed ’em out of the room. And -I declare for it, and I am tellin’ the truth, as she stood up -sweepin’ out, I see way down below their shoulder blades, every -single blade. They went into the room where they wuz dancing, -it wuz there they sought safety from indelicacy and unrefined -suggestions, but for them that see ’em come in the sight wuz fur -worse than the back view, yes fur worse. - -But no sooner did the anxious mother chase her brood out in front -of her than another woman, whose dress wuz so low it is a wonder -it held onto her till she got out, she swep’ out with her two -daughters in front of her, one on ’em dressed in a string of pearls -and a ostrich tip, and the other one bare as she wuz born almost -from her waist up, every mite of their dresses almost layin’ -on the carpet. They fled from the contagion of indelicacy into -the ballroom, and went to talkin’ Bible together and condemnin’ -bitterly the low, immodest woman who had dared to recite such a -poem before their innocent daughters. They had guarded ’em so, they -said from everything and anything that could by any possibility -suggest an indelicate thought or act, and now in one moment to have -the veil dropped from their innocent eyes. - -And thus the mothers complained until jest such men as the verses -described walked up and put their arms round the prettiest and -most naked of the girls, held ’em as close to their vile hearts as -if they wuz runnin’ away with ’em, and jumped round the room with -’em, the happy mothers lookin’ on and smilin’ placidly, seein’ the -girls’ pretty flushed faces layin’ right up against the villians’ -breastbones. And it wuzn’t a great while before all the girls had -some strangers’ arms round ’em and wuz prancin’ round the room. - -Well, a man I had met in Loontown come up to me and asked me -sunthin’ about my books, and that seemed to set the fashion, for I -don’t know how many come up to me and asked me about ’em. And most -every one on ’em said they had read my books to a dyin’ friend, or -to the aged, them that had lost their minds, as fur as I could make -out, or wuz so fur gone they couldn’t sense their trouble. But I -thanked ’em, every one on ’em, and felt it, too, it is so sweet to -think on that you have soothed last hours of the mentally shattered -and the infirm in intellect, I got quite a lot of comfort out of -the thought. - -Two or three wimmen there had had friends who had read ’em, they -wuz in distant parts of the country, but I wuz glad to hear from -’em and hear they had read ’em. And then three or four, and mebby -more, asked me if I lived in Boston; I don’t know what under the -sun there wuz about me that put that thought into their heads, -unless it wuz my bunnet, the ribbin bow on it did rise up noble -and sort of majestic above my foretop; mebby it put ’em in mind -of Bunker Hill. I knew it wuz a bunnet calculated to impress -the beholder almost with awe, it wuz so sort o’ high headed and -literary lookin’. Josiah didn’t want me to git it, but I knew it -would give me a high learnt look, and, when they asked me if I -lived in Boston, I felt I had made a good choice. - -Well, we got home perfectly beat out, and my pardner fearfully -cross, though, as I wuz as good as my word and got him a good -but hasty lunch, his crossness moderated and he went to bed in -considerable good sperits, and we slep’ late the next day and no -serious bad results follered. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -The time drawed near for me to go to Tamer’s and visit with -Celestine, and I cooked up good vittles and sights of ’em, knowin’ -that in my absence no paneky would soothe like that. I didn’t mean -to stay but two nights, but didn’t know what might happen, they wuz -such cases to urge me to stay when I got there. - -I arrove on the appinted day with no casualities, and they wuz -dretful glad to see me, Anna and Jack specially, Tamer and -Cicero seemed to be sort o’ absent-minded, I most knew they had -got holt of some new novel, and so it turned out, it wuz “The -Roaring Avenger of the Bloody Path” that wuz under perusal, and -they couldn’t hardly brook to have their attentions drawed off a -minute, but Tamer finished it the afternoon of the day I got there, -and then she seemed inclined to talk more, but her talk wuz real -deprestin’. She had got the sinevetus she said beyend the doubt. - -And I said, “Don’t you believe you got it runnin’ after Arabeller?” - -And she said, with a sithe, “Mebby it wuz so, and,” sez she, “if it -wuzn’t so onfashionable to keep house without a servant I wouldn’t -keep her an hour, for she acts worse than ever and makes me more -trouble than she duz good, enough sight.” - -Celestine seemed real glad to see me when she could git her -attentions offen her landscapes and views and placks and things. -She is a tall, wapey lookin’ woman and wears spectacles, and I -don’t spoze she sees much through them specks only her pictures, -and works of Art, as she calls ’em. She don’t seem to see her -little girl hardly any, a sweet, pretty child, too, a gentle, quiet -little thing with eyes that seem to be on the lookout for tender -looks, and a sweet, sad mouth that seems sort o’ grievin’ for the -kisses she don’t git. - -For sure as I am alive durin’ them three days and two nights I wuz -there I didn’t see Celestine take one mite of notice of little -Mary, only to hook up her dress once or twice and tie back her -hair, and she did them in a kind of a absent-minded, dreamy way as -if the child’s waist might have been a distant range of mountains, -and her hair a waterfall or runnin’ stream. It wuz some such color, -anyway, some of the color of water with the gold light of sunset -burnin’ on it, and it hung all round her sweet face in waves and -ringlets. She wuz a dretful pretty child. And it seemed as if I -couldn’t keep my hands offen her, I wanted to hold her in my arms -and pat down them shinin’ tresses so. And it wuzn’t more’n several -minutes, anyway, till she wuz nestlin’ up aginst me and I wuz -holdin’ her real fondly on my left side while Jack wuz hangin’ -round my right side. He didn’t act jealous a mite, either, for he -seemed to be jest as fond of little Mary as I wuz. They played -together real good. And I held that child in my arms and looked -down into the tender, confidin’ little face, a sort of believin’ -face, jest the sort I like, and sez to myself: - -“What under the sun can her Ma be thinkin’ of to be makin’ up fancy -pictures and set so much store by ’em and slight the sweetest and -prettiest livin’ picture, all finished off perfect, right before -her?” But Celestina did, she jest slighted her, and acted as if -she wuzn’t half so much worth as the blank pieces of canvas she -handled from day to day, for them she could cover with her own -idees and images. It seemed queer to me, queer as a dog. - -Anna wuz not in very good sperits, but she went round the house -good tempered if ruther sad, helpin’ her Ma all she could, and, in -fact, takin’ the brunt of the work on herself, for Arabeller wuz -not to be depended on, and Tamer’s various diseases wuz worse and -more aggravatin’ than they had been. Cicero, as usual, wuz steeped -to the chin in cigarettes and his wild novels of buckaneers and -pirates and couldn’t be depended on for help only at meal times, -then he come out strong and helped to make way with the food in a -masterful way. - -Hamen and his brother John wuz real busy about their bizness, and -I didn’t see much on ’em, only at the table when they partook of -their food hastily and departed. But Tamer seemed to want to make -it as pleasant as she could for me, and as Celestine spent so much -time outdoors engrossed with her painting, she and I had lots of -time to visit together, though, as I always did at Hamen’s, I see -lots of things I didn’t fancy, though I hain’t no hand to complain. - -I don’t believe in relations findin’ fault with each other, and I -am very close mouthed, but of course I can’t help seein’ every time -I am there that Tamer is sot and overbearin’ and very onreasonable. -Why, she don’t think that Tirzah Ann is the best housekeeper in -Jonesville, she jest the same as told me there wuz others jest as -good. And she believes that in the big cities there is lawyers that -know as much as our Thomas Jefferson. - -I pity Tamer from the bottom of my heart, she is failin’ in her -mind. But she can’t help it, she has weakened her faculties, I -think, broodin’ on her diseases, and then half the time she thinks -she is a female Amazon. And how I do pity little Jack! Tamer kep’ -the best sort of clothes on him, dressed and fed him jest as -well as a child could be, only when she wuz down with the most -curiousest of her diseases, or in one of her tempers. - -But while, as I have said, she took good care of his body, oh! how -she neglected and misused the mind, the heart, the imagination, the -true life of little Jack, misused it like a dog. She would fly at -him and whip him unmercifully for what he wuzn’t to blame for, and -then set over one of her novels and let him go on with what he ort -to have been stopped doin’. To use the words of another, she let -him do the things he ortn’t to do and whipped him for what he ort. -Her mind wuz such. - -Now, to give a sample of her onjestice, the very next day after I -wuz there Jack wuz sent to a neighbor’s on a errent. His mother -told him to go cross lots, she wuz in such a hurry to have her -errent done she didn’t give him enough particulars about the way, -and when the poor little creeter wuz doin’ jest the best he could -and hurryin’ on jest as near as he could where his Ma told him to -go, he got into a swampy place and got his best clothes all dirty -and wuz too late to do his errent. - -Tamer Ann wanted to send by the neighbor to the city where he wuz -goin’ for a certain new blood curdlin’ novel, jest issued, and, -owin’ to Jack’s misfortune in losin’ his way when he got there, the -man wuz gone. And when poor Jack come meachin’ home with his nice -clothes all muddy and wet, as forlorn lookin’ a little creeter as -I ever see, Tamer wuz voylently mad about his clothes, and when he -said (for Jack is naturally truthful) that he got there too late -to do the errent, Tamer’s face got red as blood with white patches -shinin’ through the red, like a lurid sky with white thunder caps -showin’ on it, and she took Jack by the hand and jerked him up the -stairs into her own room. - -She jest tore the clothes offen him, as I learn afterwards, and -whipped him onmercifully, first with her hand, and then afterwards, -as Jack wouldn’t own up that he had been wicked and wuz sorry for -it, she grew madder and madder, and voyalenter and voyalenter, and -ketched off her slipper, not a soft one (that might be applied -with safety to the place best fitted for such blows), but one with -a high French heel, and she struck Jack with that till great blue -marks wuz left on his little quiverin’, shrinkin’ body. - -She whipped him till the sharp pain made him yield, as greater -heroes have before, and he owned up that he had been awful wicked -and wuz sorry. And then Tamer wuz satisfied and dressed Jack in -a handsome suit and give him half a pound of candy and a lot of -indigestible fruit (which he threw up with great pain before -midnight), and come down lookin’ perfectly satisfied and contented, -and Jack went out to divide his spoils with Mary, jest as many -a outwardly successful hero has brung home his spoils obtained -by truckling to Evil to lavish on some beloved female. And that -evenin’, jest before sundown, I give Tamer a-talkin’ to, sez I, -“Jack thought he wuz doing right, he thought he wuz on the right -road.” - -“If he had looked and kep’ his mind on it all the time he would -have come out right.” - -Sez I, “Tamer Ann, mebby Jack didn’t think to look.” - -“Well, I’ll let you know that Jack has got to think. I’ll whip him -jest as hard for not thinkin’ as I will for anything else, what -bizness has he not to think?” - -Sez I, “Tamer Ann, do you and I always think before we do things?” - -“I can’t speak for you,” sez she, “but as for me, I always do.” - -Sez I, “Is it always easy for you to decide right, Tamer, when two -or three paths are in front of you to decide from? Do you always -choose the right one?” - -“I always have!” sez she severely. - -“Well,” sez I, “you’re different from most folks; most of us git -into the wrong paths time and agin, and go blunderin’ along over -rocks and sand and stun and weeds, etc., and we may count ourselves -happy if we ever git back into the right road agin.” - -“Well,” sez Tamer, “Jack might have known he wuz goin’ wrong, it -wuzn’t a blunder, he chose deliberate.” - -Sez I, “Jack said he thought he wuz goin’ right, and I believe -him. But even if he had chosen the wrong road deliberate, lots of -us look back onto times when we had to choose different paths to -walk in, and deliberately, though unbeknown to us, chose the wrong -way. There is so many paths to choose from in this life, the roads -branch out into so many different ways, why, if the compass had as -many pints on it as the porcupine has quills it couldn’t begin to -pint to the different paths we have to choose from. - -“Sometimes,” sez I, growin’ real eloquent, “they go down into the -shadows with the pale shapes of Renunciation and Martyrdom, and a -cross shinin’ faint and far down in the gloom. Some through the -garden of the gods, where the air is fine and clear, and music and -chanted song float along down the beautiful pathway. Some through -the crowds of bizness, and gay pleasure-seekers through pleasures -and palaces. Some into the dark highways, where Want and Misery -walk hand in hand. Some down into the tomb, some up the mount of -crucifixion. There are paths, long, cold, shinin’, that go up the -mountain side, where the glitterin’ tops gleam and beckon, and we -are willin’ to drop every weight that would hender us from climbin’. - -“Oh, those times to look back upon when life wuz to be chosen, or -what proved to be (onbeknown to us) a livin’ death! How calm the -fields lay under the light of that autumn sky, long flat fields, -green and calm and stretchin’ back to the quiet woods. How the road -in front lengthened out in a long, shinin’, yellow-brown ribbon -with cozy sheltered homes layin’ by its side. How soft and cloud -flecked wuz the sky overhead, broodin’ down over the sheltered -home nests. Only a question to be made and answered, a breath of -air, light thing indeed, lighter than the lightest fleck of soft -blue-gray cloud overhead, maybe a few tears, a farewell not so loud -as the lowest bird song in the branches along the brown wayside -fences. Ah! but has there not been times since when that low word -has risen into a mighty voice that filled the skies of the worlds, -this world and the onknown? The great dread that it wuz indeed -final, that nowhere, nowhere could the lives that touched each -other, and then drifted so wide asunder, would ever meet side by -side agin. - -“Oh, the blindness, the fatal blindness of ignorance, the mistakes -that arise from pride, from ambition, from any and every cause, and -whose fatality cannot be seen until afterward, until the sun has -gone down and the night brings reflection and--heartache! These -are the true tragedies of life, enacted by them who weep with no -grave for their tears to fall upon. These are the real mourners who -do not go about the streets, but who sit inside the gayly curtained -box and see the play of life go on before them till the lights are -put out, the curtain down, and the real play of life is at an end. - -“But they watch the gayly plumed puppets play and act their part, -and applaud and smile and the play goes on. Poor playgoers, poor -actors on the stage, all, all waiting for the finale of the seen. - -“Everywhere, everywhere, on each side, before us, under us, over -us, the roads branch off, and we with our poor, weak eyesight -can’t choose right time and agin, we can’t and don’t. Even with -the experience of maturity, with all the wisdom gathered from the -words of them who have gone the way before, with all the experience -of the travelers through the past to guide us, with the lamp of -Caution in our hand, the shoes of Watchfulness to creep along on, -and the great book of God’s will open before us, His strength to -lean on--if with all these helps we stumble and blunder, how can -we condemn the children so harshly, with no guide but the waverin’ -will, the undeveloped conscience and understandin’, if they make -mistakes? - -“And you whipped Jack,” sez I impressively, “for making just a -little mistake; you whipped him till his poor back is black and -blue, Tamer.” - -“I didn’t mean to whip so hard, Cousin Samantha, but my temper got -up so after I got to whippin’ him because he wouldn’t own that he -had been wicked and say he wuz sorry for it, that I whipped him -harder than I meant to.” - -Sez I, “Then you wuz whippin’ him for not tellin’ a lie, and you -made him tell one, for, at last, to stop the cruel sting of the -blows on his poor little back, you did finally succeed in makin’ -him say he had been wicked, when he hadn’t been, and sorry, when he -wuzn’t sorry, poor little creeter!” - -“You always take Jack’s part, Samantha.” - -“Not before Jack, Tamer Smith.” - -“No, you don’t say anything before him, but you kinder act in such -a way that he knows you are on his side, that you are his friend.” - -“Well, I should think he needed one, poor little creeter!” - -“Don’t you spoze, Samantha Allen, a mother knows what is best and -right for her children? Don’t you spoze she acts for his best good?” - -“Not when she leaves blue, livid marks on his back, not when she -whips him into tellin’ a lie.” - -“What you mean by that, I don’t know,” sez Tamer. - -“He wuzn’t sorry,” sez I; “not a particle, and you whipped him till -he said he wuz.” - -“Well, he ought to be sorry if he wuzn’t, and I would like to know -what you would have me do.” - -“I would have you never make a child say a thing that wuzn’t true, -and if you had sot your mind on havin’ him say he wuz sorry, reason -with him and tell him why he ort to be sorry till he wuz sorry. But -you jest sprung at him and whipped him, as sudden and voyalent as a -hailstorm that ravages down on a flower garden, cuttin’ and peltin’ -and slashin’ and killin’ all the dainty leaves and blossoms. And -it didn’t do any more good and jest as much hurt as that voyalent -storm would, with no soft rain to go down to the root of the -flowers and nourish ’em. - -“Why, if them posies ever lift their heads agin, which many of ’em -won’t, there will be on ’em the cuts and scars of the icy, drivin’ -hailstuns. If the sweet posies of Truth and Candor and Honesty -hain’t entirely cut down and pelted out of sight in Jack’s poor -little soul I’ll be glad on’t, but if they do live, Tamer Ann, -there will be cuts and scars on ’em, and I’d advise you as a friend -to turn short round and do different by him.” - -Sez Tamer, tosstin’ her head, “I shall probable do as I like with -my own child, he is mine.” - -Sez I, “Tamer Smith, there is where you make another mistake. He is -not yours, as you may find out to your sorrow some day, he belongs -to Another who let you take him for a spell, to train him up for -higher service. He will claim him agin when He gits ready.” - -And, though I didn’t say it outside of me, I said it inside, that I -should be most glad if He would take him, much as I loved him. It -would be such a comfort, I thought, to lay my head down at night on -my goose-feather pillow and think that dear little Jack wuz safe. -Safe from the cruel blows that fell on him anywhere, hard blows -that beat the little, tender body and soft, dimpled limbs, leavin’ -blue, livid marks where there should be nothin’ but dimples. Safe -from the deeper marks and scars that deface the eager, seekin’ -mind, the active, impressionable nature, the little white soul. But -while I wuz so sorry for Jack that my heart most melted inside of -me and the tears run down my face many a time faster than they did -down Jack’s when I would hear Tamer whippin’ him, and he cryin’---- - -Though I wuz sorry for Jack and pitiful towards him, as pitiful -could be, I tried to be and wuz about half the time, I should -say, sorry for Tamer, or mebby it wuz a quarter of the time I wuz -sorry for her, or half a quarter, I can’t tell exactly, because -I would have my ups and downs about it, for Jack it wuz a full, -deep, complete pity and sympathy and sorrow all the time. But -sometimes I would say to myself, now Tamer has got a bad temper, -she got it through Heaven only knows by what cause, ancestral or -local. If it come down to her with her Roman nose and thin lips -from some ancestor, then how fur is she to blame for not subduin’ -it entirely? No amount of rubbin’ down and smoothin’ and grindin’ -could make that nose of hers into a Greecy one. No amount of -stimulatin’ liniment could make them thin lips soften out into more -generous and sweeter curves. She might git up early and set up late -and she couldn’t make them changes, and who knows whether she could -with all her efforts entirely soften and make sweet that sour, -dissatisfied disposition and fiery temper? - -And then would be the time, for four or five minutes mebby, I would -be sorry for Tamer. And then agin I would say to myself she has -lived in a onreal, onnatural world and is livin’ there still. And -when pirates and burglars and murderers and arsoners and rapiners -and robbers and Injuns are continually roamin’ and stalkin’ and -war-whoopin’ and murderin’ and dashin’ and skulkin’ and prancin’ -through anybody’s brain, hain’t it reasonable that that brain -should be tuckered out, too tuckered, too trompled and beat down to -take fresh, vigorous thought on any subject? - -I would say in such a wild, trompled, dust-blown, whoopin’ highway -what chance is there for such a little mite of a lonesome -wayfarer as Jack, and I don’t know that it is any wonder that he -is sometimes entirely overlooked, and sometimes ridin’ up in high -ease, and sometimes stomped and trompled on. Poor little creeter! -And then I would think of her different diseases, and wantin’ to do -my best for her even in my thoughts (for, though I gin her advice -through duty, I always tried to be charitable to her in my mind), -I would say over to myself some of her most lengthy distempers and -curious ones, I would say, in a low, deep voice, “basler mangetus, -sinevetus, singletus, tonsiletus, pironitus,” etc., etc., till -sometimes I would git real sorry for her as much as six minutes. -Well, just such seens as I have mentioned I would witness from -hour to hour and from day to day, and finally I got heartsick with -lookin’ at it and wuz glad when the time drawed near for me to -return to the bosom of my family (a gingham bosom week days, and -a fine linen one Sundays, with five pleats on a side). Jack cried -when I spoke of goin’ home, but Cicero didn’t care at all, he wuz -to school daytimes, and the very minute he got home at night he wuz -pourin’ over them novels, and his mother would proudly say to me: - -“Cicero is so much like me, so different from Jack, he is so -studious, such a reader, he will make a great thinker.” - -Not through the nourishment he gits from such food, I sez to -myself. And I tried several times to talk with Cicero about readin’ -such books, but he would look up so coldy at me from across “The -Boody Gulch” or “The Fiend Haunted Hollow” that it fairly stunted -me. He would look up middlin’ respectful to hear my remonstrances -about readin’ ’em, would listen with his finger between the pages, -and the minute I stopped, resoom his occupation, in the meantime -answerin’ me nothin’, not a word, till I declare it stunted me, his -looks wuz so cold and resolved and sort o’ blood curdlin’, and his -mean so determined that I wuz positively afraid to tackle him. - -But he had his thoughts, and while I wuz there one mornin’ it wuz -found that Cicero wuz missin’, he wuz searched for one day and two -nights; Tamer, in the meantime, fallin’ from one hysterick into -another, the third day he wuz found in the woods milds from there, -on top of a big rock; he had built a fortification in front of it, -and barricaded himself from enemies, had built a sort of an outlook -in a tree nigh by, where he could look out for prowlin’ foes, and -wuz found there smokin’ cigarettes and readin’ “The Lone Bandit of -the Haunted Woods” when he wuz discovered. He wuz made to go home, -though he rebelled and wuz moody for days afterwards. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -Though it is shootin’ ahead of the story and resoomin’ forward, -yet I d’no but I may as well tell of Cicero’s adventures, and -casualties now as any time, they have got to be told anyway, though -I hate to. But seed sown has got to spring up, and somebody has got -to harvest it. The cigarettes he smoked constantly weakened and -softened his mind, I believe, so the blood curdlin’ and dashin’ -idees he partook of in them novels had a good chance to take root. -Four times durin’ the next year did he disappear mysteriously, jest -as some of his heroes had, to be brought back agin after a long -search by his agonized parents. The first time he run away with -Arabeller and wuz overtook before they had gone any great distance, -and she soon afterwards wuz shipped west by her folks, to the ranch -of an uncle in Colorado to be broke in as he broke his mustangs, -and I don’t know what did become of her, married some cowboy, I -spoze. And, bein’ foiled in his matrimonial ventures as some of his -wild ideals had, he lived for booty. He soon afterwards disappeared -into the forest, taking a neighbor’s little boy with him, little -Teddy Dewey, and sent back a note to the boy’s parents demandin’ -ransom: “Teddy would be sent home if the sum of seventy-five cents -wuz put at the foot of a dead tree where the shadow at midnight -made the shape of a coffin; if the money wuz deposited there at -midnight Teddy would be found on their back doorsteps in the -mornin’.” Of course they hid at this rondevoo and ketched Cicero -and his victim, too. - -Once he wuz found with a rifle fixed up in front of the cave rakin’ -the road in front, and they had to skulk up a back way to ketch him. - -The last time he went he took a girl with him, one of the prettiest -little girls in the neighborhood; he took his father’s old white -horse into the woods and a red woollen shawl of his mother’s and -had persuaded the girl to be a Captive Princess. And when found she -wuz settin’ on the horse, which wuz draped in scarlet, as become -the charger of a Princess, and Cicero wuz walkin’ by her side, -ornamented with feathers and wampum. Well, the girl’s father, bein’ -ragin’ mad, horsewhipped Cicero hard, and then Cicero organized a -band of banditta, called the Bloody League, that ravaged the man, -stole his fruit, took his horses out of the lot and rode ’em, and -finally drove his flocks off into the woods and barricaded ’em -there. - -That cost Hamen over forty-two dollars to settle, and Cicero didn’t -git into another scrape till most a month afterwards, when he got -mad at one of the neighbor’s boys and shot him, as a “dastardly -foe” should be attacked by a bold buckaneer or bandit. The ball -went through the boy’s leg, and, though it made him lame for life, -his folks, bein’ poor, settled for five hundred dollars, and Cicero -come home from jail and wuz fresh for new dime novels flavored by -cigarettes. The next time he got into trouble he hid himself behind -the bushes and shot at the man who had horsewhipped him, and for -whom he cherished a deep, invincible hatred and thirst for revenge. -He felt the honor of the Bloody League wuz at stake, the example -of the braves wuz goadin’ him on. He hid behind a tall clump of -elderberry bushes and shot his dastardly foe as he wuz wendin’ his -way peacefully home from church on a Sunday night. The ball woonded -the man, but not fatally, and the next month saw Cicero in prison. -He wrote home for some novels and cigarettes, which Tamer Ann sent -to solace him in his confinement, and for a time the neighborhood -wuz at peace and breathed freely. - -Hamen wuz jest crushed by the blow, and went round lookin’ like -an old man before his time. Tamer had to git a new box of novels -to comfort her, and she developed eight new diseases durin’ the -next two months. It wuz hard for ’em, I pitied ’em from nearly -the bottom of my heart. Clear down in the bottom of my heart lay -the conviction that Tamer had brought on all this sorrow and sin, -had opened the door and let her bandits and banditta come in, -luggin’ all this misery in with ’em, and so I told Josiah. Cicero’s -reputation wuz such they couldn’t git his sentence shortened; he -went for ten years. - -As for the neighborin’ boy and girl, who used to pour over the -novels with Cicero, durin’ the next two years the boy shot another -one and killed him and wuz sent to prison for life, and the girl -run away with a circus man who had already several wives in -different parts of the country. She didn’t take all her clothin’ -with her, for she left in haste, but she took “The Disguised Hero -of the Sawdust; or, The Clown Prince.” It wuz Tamer’s book. - -The girl wuz brought back by her father, but she wuz ruined for -life in the estimation of her neighbors, Tamer wouldn’t allow Anna -to speak to her if she met her on the street; Tamer wuz dretful -bitter now on her, and said such low creeters ort to be made -examplers of. She would have been glad to had her stunned. - -I myself pitied her, and in the cause of duty told Tamer when she -wuz goin’ on about her, I sez, “Tamer, your books have been one -great cause of that poor child’s ruination. When her young mind -wuz a calm, innocent, restful place you jest led into it to ravage -round and destroy and tromple and kick up the ground all the wild -villians and wicked wimmen and guirellas that possibly could be -drove into it, they went in and did their work, they destroyed -all the sweet blossoms of innocence, laid waste all the tender -beauty and purity they found there, and put up a wretched ideal -of romantic wickedness which she strove to realize, and has, and -you can set down here and watch the result, and the one that did -the work is the first to condemn her.” Tamer wuz mad, but I didn’t -care. I knew I wuz in the right on’t, and I said jest the same to -her about the boy, and agin Tamer Ann wuz mad, and agin I didn’t -care, for the same reason. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -Well, Tom Willis kep’ doin’ better and better and wuz gittin’ a -good salary, good enough, with what property he had, for him to -marry on, and Anna kep’ on lovin’ him and refusin’ to marry Von -Crank, and Tamer kep’ on naggin’ Anna, and things seemed to be at -a standstill. Since Cicero wuz shut up Tamer had acted worse than -ever, so it seemed; the trouble instead of softenin’ had seemed to -harden her. - -There is some troubles you know jest like that, kinder sharp, -stiff, humiliatin’ troubles, and agin there is heart meltin’, heart -breakin’ griefs that soften the heart while it well nigh breaks -’em. Well, Tamer’s wuz one of them sharp, witherin’, humiliatin’ -ones, and her heart seemed harder than ever and she seemed more -in favor of Von Crank, more sot against Tom Willis, more hard on -Jack and more naggin’. But a change wuz to come, when the right -time come the Lord softened Tamer’s heart, and Anna went out of her -servitude, out of the house of bondage into the Land of Promise, -into a happy useful life with the man of her choice. - -But, oh, my dear little Jack! my poor boy! - -But to resoom backwards agin and take up the thread of history, I -stayed at Hamen’s several days, visitin’ ostensibly with Celestine. -For as many as three times a day, when she would be brung in to -her meals from her engrossin’ Art work, Celestine would say to me: -“How glad I am, Josiah Allen’s wife, that you could come while I -am here, I am so glad to visit with you.” And then she would retire -agin into that remote world of her own and abide there in her own -pink castles set down on blue landscapes, amongst her own strange -lookin’ animals and birds and flowers and things. - -And Tamer would say anon and every little while, “How glad I -am, Cousin Samantha, that you could come and visit with me and -Celestine.” And then she would retire into her own enchanted realm -amongst her own droves of pirates and outlaws and romantic heroines -and villians. It wuz a queer time, queer as a dog, but I had real -good visits with Anna, sweet girl, with the shadder of the deepest -sorrow of youth and life hangin’ black above her. And she wuz so -good and innocent and obedient that she said she had told Tom she -would never marry aginst her mother’s wishes, “For,” sez she, “Aunt -Samantha, with Ma’s health as it is she says it would kill her, and -as I tell Tom, what comfort could I ever take even as his wife if I -had been the cause of my mother’s death?” - -So I didn’t really know how it wuz comin’ out. I couldn’t see much -chance for Anna’s future, for I expected jest as much to see a -mornin’ glory sproutin’ out of my dry oven as to see any blossom -of tenderness and consideration growin’ in the ambitious, sandy, -trompled sile of Tamer’s heart. - -It looked dark before me, dark as Egyptian shades, blind creeter -that I wuz, and, oh! of little faith. I knew well whose hand wuz -at the hellum, and I might have trusted more, my faith might have -been as big as the pint of a pin, but I don’t spoze it wuz, or I -wouldn’t have felt as I did. If my faith had been as big as the -pint of a needle, it must have removed one or two of the hillocks -of gloom that towered up in high ranges in front of me when I -meditated on the future of the girl I loved so well. But I sot -crouched down there in the gloom, and had no idee how they wuz -goin’ to be leveled down and light break through, nor how many -heartaches wuz to go on below while the light broke through high -up, and as mysterious as all things earthly are if we come to -realize it. - -Oh, my poor Jack! I never dreamed that it wuz your little hand that -wuz to touch these solid, gloomy pinnacles and shiver ’em down to -the earth. Dear little boy! how many times did I say I wished you -wuz safe from the trials and temptations of this world and its -tribulations? Wuz my wish took as a prayer, and did the Lord grant -it in mercy? But, oh, poor hearts below! how you must ache on as -long as you are wrapped up in this human clay, soft stuff this -human clay is, anyway, and as easy to take impressions as putty. - -But to stop eppisodin’ and resoom backwards agin. The day I wuz to -return to the bosom of my family, that bosom incarnated in the form -of my beloved pardner appeared on the seen in good season, no later -than nine A. M. Celestine wuz also to depart that mornin’, she went -a few minutes previous to my companion’s arrival, for she went on -the Loontown stage that passed at a quarter to nine. - -She got up very early and did her packin’, she had got most of her -easels and canvases and paint brushes packed up, and her landscapes -and panels and things all padded at the corners and wropped up safe -for the journey. But Celestine said she couldn’t leave till she -took a last look at the lake from the west piazza, the lake come -most up to that side of the house, and it wuz a beautiful sight, I -will admit, and the picture looked quite well, too, for she showed -it to me. The blue of the lake and the sky overhead wuz jest about -the color of little Mary’s eyes, and the light in the east wuz some -the color of her fluffy wavin’ hair, and I told her Ma so as I held -the little girl fondly in my arms. But she looked real indifferent -at the child, as if she see some panels through her and some -calenders and things and called my attention to the “cheri obscuro” -of the pictures, and the “alto releevo,” or I guess that is what -she called ’em, I didn’t have a idee what she meant, but not -wantin’ to act green, I told her I presumed so, “I spoze they’re -real favorites of yourn, but,” sez I candidly, “there hain’t a -doubt of this, this child here would be a prime favorite of mine if -I had her with me much.” And I hugged her to me agin real clost, -and she put her soft, white arm lovin’ly round my neck. - -Agin she looked at her with a fur off look, some as if she wuz in -Hindoostan or Egypt or somewhere and sez: “I have never been able -to get such feelin’ into a picture as I have in this.” - -And I sez, “Like as not,” and I added, “I know I have a real lovin’ -feelin’ for little Mary.” And I smoothed back her hair with a -tender hand and made of her. And then I bid her good-by and went -upstairs, bein’ called there by Anna. And the stage hove in sight, -and Tamer had to draw Celestine offen her work and git into her -bunnet and shawl. The stage driver wuz real profane durin’ the -siege of gittin’ her started, but he got the easel in, and big -framed pictures and placks and panels, and she standin’ over him -and warnin’ him to be careful and not injure ’em, and he got her -little satchels and boxes in and she herself, and they wuz jest -drivin’ off when Hamen’s wife come runnin’ down the steps and -called out to her cousin: - -“Celesteena, you have forgot little Mary!” And at that minute I -come downstairs and ketched sight of her and little Jack out in the -yard playin’. Celestine looked at her pictures and satchels and -things and seemed to come to a realizin’ sense that she did miss -sunthin’, so little Mary wuz called in and put in the stage jest -as she wuz, though her dress wuz fur too thin for that cool day, -and her face and hands wuzn’t what they should be to start off on a -journey, and she hadn’t a mite of a wrap on, but the pictures and -panels wuz protected by thick wrappers, and Celestine didn’t see -anything wrong. Little Mary kissed her hand to me as they went out -of the gate, and I threw a dozen to her, and hundreds of wishes for -her future happiness, but I must say I felt dubersome about it, -dretful dubersome. - -Well, we got home that night in good season, I got a delicious -supper, and, oh! how good it did seem to be in my own home agin. -Everything looked good to me, even to the teakettle and broom. Oh, -truly, indeed, hath the poet said and sung, “There is no place like -home, there is no place like home.” - -I found a lot of papers there Thomas J. had sent me, and I wuz -glad enough I didn’t read ’em till I eat supper and done up my -work. For I knew that no supper could I partook of had I seen the -dretful news these papers contained. And I didn’t see that fatal -article for quite a spell. The papers told about Miss Greene -Smythe’s Charity Bazar, and the first one I opened had a very full -description of the party, and over a column wuz devoted to her -dress, it wuz described as very shinin’ and glitterin’, and her -diamonds immense. It said this Charity Ball and Bazar wuz a great -success, and her city might be proud of such a woman, her native -land might be proud to own her as a child, and the Hottentot would -rise up and call her blessed; it wuz a powerful editorial. - -Another daily paper, which I took up next, said it wuz a vulgar -affair; her dress wuz gaudy, her ornaments in poor taste, and it -said that after the expenses of that bazar wuz paid not over one -dollar and seventy-five cents would ever git to that heathen, -and it wuz very doubtful if even that sum would ever reach him, -owin’ to the cupidity and selfishness of the intermediate links, -Hottentot and American. - -And the paper went on to say that the Hottentot didn’t need -clothin’, anyway, and it wuz doubtful if he would spend the money -for that purpose even if it ever reached him, for he had imbibed -from Americans a strong love for alcoholic stimulants, and it wuz -supposed by the editor that he would spend the money raised by the -bazar in gettin’ intoxicated on Boston whisky. It wuz a dretful -discouragin’ article. And in that same paper, right along in the -next column describin’ the affair Miss Greene Smythe had been -lookin’ forward to with such pride, wuz the dretful tragedy put -down, the thing that took the nip out of Miss Greene Smythe, and -made a different woman of her, so they say. - -I hate to tell it; I hate to like a dog, but I must; it is the -truth and has got to be told. Poor little Angenora! poor little -thing! The nurse gin her too much of that opiate either through -carelessness or meanness or sunthin’; ’tennyrate, she gin her an -overdose that very night of the party. It wuz spozed the nurse -wanted to be free to flirt round and enjoy herself, and the child -bein’ over-excited and couldn’t sleep she dosed her double and -treble. ’Tennyrate, she gin her so much that the next mornin’ they -found her pretty little body layin’ cold and still, the sweet, -misused sperit gone clear out of it. Escaped! that’s the way my -mind pictured it to myself as I thought it over with the paper -dropped into my lap and the tears runnin’ down my face entirely -onbeknown to me. - -Escaped! away from these bleak skies into a safer, happier realm. -The nurse run away when she discovered it, but wuz brung back by -officers of the law. Miss Greene Smythe went into spazzum after -spazzum, coniption fit after coniption fit, but recovered enough -to testify aginst the girl and send her to prison. The next work -she did wuz to dismiss the other girl and hire a good, middle-aged -woman, widder of a Lutherean minister, to take care of Algernon. - -Well, I don’t envy that widder not a mite. But no missionary to -Africa nor India’s coral strand wuz ever needed more, and mebby -she will disseminate some gospel and some common sense into the -benighted jungles of Miss Greene Smythe’s mind. ’Tennyrate, I -hearn, it come quite straight too--Nancy Yerden hearn it from her -sister-in-law in Jonesville and she told me--that them Danglers -didn’t dangle nigh so much, Miss Greene Smythe seemin’ to not want -’em to. - -But she left for the city a few weeks after little Angenora’s -death; she said she couldn’t bear the associations connected with -that house, and I hear she pays more attention to Mr. Greene Smythe -than she did; howsumever, I don’t know. Thomas J. gets bizness -letters from her occasionally--I guess he’ll git her free from -Emery Tweedie, he is a villian and a blackmailer, so Thomas J. sez. -As for Medora, he don’t see his way clear to free her from her -husband, and I guess as long as she lives she will have to suffer -from the effects of her early trainin’ and git along the best she -can. - -Now, can any one tell by what occult law or onseen enactment it is, -or what strange, mysterious jury sets on the case and determines it -thus or so, but is there one among my readers who will contradict -me when I say that when one thing happens in this world other -things like it will keep on happenin’, pleasant things and sad -things? Now, if people have one pleasant thing happen to ’em they -will keep on happenin’, and the same with sad things; if one -suicide takes place don’t folks look for another? And they do not -look in vain; the same with embezzlements, murders, war, and rumors -of wars. - -Alas! the grass wuz not yet green on little Angenora’s grave -when---- But I can’t put it down yet; no, I have got to lead up to -it gradual or I can’t stand it; I have got to kinder stiddy myself -by relating other things first. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -Things went on in their usual roteen in our home in Jonesville, -Josiah good, over-good at times, anon puggicky and hard to -git along with, softened into amiability agin by his own good -principles and his pardner’s oncommon tact and cookin’. Meetin’s, -socials, visitors, agents, and colporters varied the calm roteen as -of yore; the children had been home frequent, and Hamenses folks -had been down on a visit and stayed several days. - -One day Aunt Polly Worden come to spend the day with me. She lives -with her brother and his wife, and is pretty well off if she only -knew it, but she don’t know it, and probable never will. She will -go on and complain of her sister-in-law by the hour if folks will -listen to her. But I always git her attention off as soon as I can -onto other subjects, knittin’ or piecin’ up, or the minister’s -wife, or sunthin’ or ruther. Well, little Delight wuz stayin’ with -us for a few days, and Aunt Polly seemed to forget her grievances -lookin’ at the dear little creeter and hearin’ her pretty talk as -she played with her dollys and books and toys. - -I got a oncommon good dinner--Aunt Polly loves her vittles--and -she brightened up considerable and wuz talkin’ real agreeable for -her, and that afternoon Thomas J. and Maggie stopped in for a few -minutes with their baby. They wuz out ridin’ and come in for a few -minutes, and Thomas J. went to find his Pa, wantin’ to see him on -bizness. The baby looked sweet as a rosebud, and Maggie looked like -the parent rose on the same stem. - -Maggie couldn’t take off her bunnet even, for they had to be back -before noon, but she said they wuz comin’ down that week to stay -all day. But I did take off the baby’s little white silk hood and -snowy cashmere cloak, and made of it a sight, Delight lookin’ on as -happy as a little queen. After they went away I spoke as is nateral -to Aunt Polly about the charms and loveliness of that baby, and -Aunt Polly winked at me real knowin’ and sez to Delight: - -“Your nose is broke now, young lady.” - -Delight put her little finger up to her nose and felt of it -anxiously, and I wunk at Aunt Polly to say no more, for I knew what -she meant--it wuz that this new babe of Thomas Jefferson’s would -push little Delight out of my heart. But Aunt Polly is real kinder -obstinate; I guess her sister-in-law is right when she sez, “No -mule wuz ever more balky than Polly Worden.” - -But then I realize that she is a old maiden and has had five -disappointments and some say seven, and they have embittered her. -She heeded not the wink I wunk at her and kep’ right on: - -“The little new baby will take your place now in Grandma’s heart.” - -Delight looked troubled, on her smooth little brow I could see -fall the first faint shadow of that great, black shape that we -call jealousy. Her sweet eyes looked as if they wuz cloudin’ -up ready for tears. And I wunk severer and more voyalent winks -at Aunt Polly; if ever a wink spoke them did, and said, “Stop -immegiately.” But she kep’ right on (poor creeter! I spoze them -disappintments wuz the cause on’t), and sez: - -“You won’t be Grandma’s baby any more; she has got somebody else to -love now.” - -And then the cloud did burst into a rainfall of tears. Delight jest -burst out a-cryin’ and snuggled down in my arms and laid her wet -cheeks on my bosom through the power of old custom, and anon (how -much like human creeters accordin’ to her size) she drew her head -away agin as if sayin’, “I can’t lay my head there any more; if the -love has gone out of the heart it won’t rest or comfort me any more -to lay there.” - -And pride woke up in her; she wuz too proud to make a fuss or beg -for love (how much, how much like big children), so she set up -kinder straight on my lap with her pretty lips quiverin’ and the -tears runnin’ silent down her cheeks, and I riz right up with her -and went out of the room. - -Josiah wuz there, and I wouldn’t bring Miss Worden to terms before -a male, owin’ to the five or seven things mentioned by me; but I -felt that I must make it right with Delight that very minute. I -knew how she felt, woonded pride and love and jealousy, a few hard -syllables of the hardest lessons of life had come to Delight, and I -must help her spell ’em, I must help her with her lesson. - -So I took her into the parlor and sot down with her in the big -chair and never said a word for a minute or two, only held her -clost to me and kissed the shinin’ hair that lay up aginst my -cheeks, she strugglin’ at first, Jealousy and Pride naggin’ her, -and at first not bein’ able to hear any voices only jest them of -J. and P. (jest like older children exactly). But, after a while, -I held her so warm and clost, with my cheek layin’ on the pretty -head, the stiddy firm clasp and contact sort o’ calmed her, and -then anon she drew one little arm up around my neck, and anon the -other one, and I looked down deep into her eyes, right into the -little true soul, and that little true soul see the truth in mine. -Words couldn’t have convinced Delight so well as that look she had -learnt to depend on. Love has a language that, though mebby it -can’t be exactly parsed and analyzed, yet it can be understood, -entirely understood, and Delight see that I loved her. And then wuz -the time the little creeter put up her lips and kissed me, and I -sez sort o’ low but very tender: - -“Sweetheart, you know jest how much I love you, don’t you?” - -And she said, “Yes.” - -And then I kissed her several times in various places on her face, -every one on ’em sweet places. And went on and talked dretful good -to her about the new baby. I confided in her, told her all about -how the little new soul had come onbeknown to itself into a great, -strange world, how helpless it wuz, how weak, and how we must all -help it and try to make it feel at home amongst us. - -And I tried to explain it to her, that as she wuz here first she -owed a courtesy to the newcomer, and that she must be ready and -willin’ to neighbor with her; I didn’t use jest the words, but them -wuz my idees. - -I told her how blind the little creeter wuz, and Delight, if only -out of politeness, must try to see for her, lead her straight over -ways she knew nothin’ about, and keep her from harmin’ herself. How -baby couldn’t talk for herself at all now, and Delight must talk -for her, good talk that the little one could learn of her bimeby. -How she couldn’t walk, and Delight, bein’ stronger, must go ahead -of her and make a pretty path for her to foller when she got big -enough. I told her jest how hard it wuz for the baby to be put here -so helpless in the midst of sorrows and troubles and dangers, and -how we must all of us be jest as good to her as we could out of -pity for the dear little creeter. - -So I rousted up Delight’s pity for her, and she wuz all animated -about helpin’ her, and I told her the baby had come to be a great -blessin’ and comfort to her, but she must take great care of it and -not let it get harmed in any way, for it would need her care and -love for a long time. - -And don’t you see that the fact of Delight havin’ to do a kindness -to the baby, havin’ to take thought and study out good things to do -for her, wuz the surest way to make her love her? For it is a great -fact in our human nater that you can’t love them you have injured -in any way, and at the same time if you have ever been good to -anybody you always feel softer toward ’em and more mellerer. - -Curious, hain’t it? But it is a fact, and I spoze the reason -on’t is you have sort o’ lowered yourself in your own estimation -by doing a onkind act, and so in order to satisfy your mental -criticism on yourself and try to make it right, you lay hold and -bring up all the faults of that person you can to justify your -own act, and so you keep on that mental naggin’ at ’em, that -oncomfortable sort of a feelin’ toward ’em makes you restless and -oneasy, and you are glad every time you can stand justified to -your own consciousness by ketchin’ ’em in a bad act--hain’t that -so, now? Why, I know it is, so I made sure Delight shouldn’t begin -wrong. For when you do a good, helpful thing for a person your -hull soul feels comfortable and you bring up unconscious mental -reasons why you did it, it wuz because they wuz so good, so smart, -and so you keep on feelin’ good and comfortable, you keep on -praisin’ ’em to your own self till you git fairly in love with ’em, -as it were. - -A very curious thing. But the way I do when I git hold of a strange -fact or truth, I don’t wait to explain it full to myself before I -act on it; no, I grasp hold of it and use it for my own benefit and -afterwards wonder at it to my heart’s content. - -So Delight got to thinkin’ she wuz necessary to the baby’s -happiness, and that tickled her little self-esteem jest as though -she wuz a older child (only accordin’ to her weight). She got to -thinkin’ she must watch over her or she might git hurt, which -called out all the good motherly protectin’ impulses of her little -soul which wuz in her (still accordin’ to her weight, forty pounds -more or less). And day by day Delight’s love for the little creeter -grew till it wuz fairly beautiful to see ’em together, and so -Josiah said, and her Pa and Ma and the neighbors. - -But to resoom backwards a little. As for Miss Worden, I thought to -myself, disappintments or not, I have got to give her a-talkin’ -to, and so I did, the very next time I see her. She had gone when -Delight and I went out of the parlor, Delight with bright, happy -eyes, and I with kinder thoughtful, pityin’ ones, and all four on -’em kinder wet. But the next time I see her alone I tackled her, -and she jest as good as promised she wouldn’t ever say to any human -child agin what she had said to Delight. And I don’t believe she -will. She hain’t such a bad creeter after all, and, good land! -what can you expect, six or seven right along one after the other? - -Well, I guess it wuz the afternoon of the very day I tackled Aunt -Polly Worden and got her promise, or as good as a promise, I got -a letter from Jack, he don’t write to me often, but like all -congenial souls I felt we wuz nigh each other whether we communed -in spoken or written words or not, his letters are printed and are -sights of work, I know. Josiah brung the letter in when he come in -to dinner. Jack’s letter wuz written on Sunday, it run as follers: - - “My deer Ant, - - “We want you to come over a visitin’ ma sez so and i say so i - want to see you bad I’ve been to meetin’ to day Ma told me to - remember what the minister sed and tell you i don’t Remember - nothin’ only i Herd him say more’n twenty times my herers i - will close my remarks - - “deer Ant i hate lyin - - “All day if i moved ma Told me i never would be a little joseph - or a little sammel i don’t want to be a little joseph i drather - be a colt they can move sundays they can kick up their Heels - and Run lass night father made me go to bed at ate he sed it - wood make me grow sez i father you lett anna set up she is - bigger sez he then she ort to sleep more sez i for there is - more of her to git tired Father never stopped readin but sez he - you are a cute one sez i father what is cute you run along to - Bed that is all father sed when i wuz goin upstairs to bed i - called out to mother mother what is cute and she never looked - up from her book but sez run right along to bed Jack Then i - gripped right onto the hired girl and sez i you shall tell me - what cute is i’ll cute you sez she and she snaked me right into - bed and Blowed out the lamp deer Ant they won’t never tell me - nothin there is lots and lots of things i feel i must know - about and if i ask them they say a little boy should be seen - and not Herd deer Ant i don’t want to be seen i drather be Herd - how be i goin’ to find out things if they won’t tell me, Youre - shure nuff you answer questions deer Ant i like you and we want - you to come here a visitin so no more - - “remaining your respected friend, - “JACK. - - “P. S. - - “I want you to come here a visitin the worst kind, - - “your obedient servant - “JACK. - - “P. S. agin - - “ma told me to tell you to come wednesday for shure do come to - see your respected cousin - - “JACK. - - “P. S. agin - - “Ma is goin to have a party and wants you to stay all night and - so duz yours truly - - “JACK. - - “P. S. ma told me to ask you and unkel Josiah to come - - “P. S. be sure and come J.” - - -Well, a letter come from Tamer by the same mail or mails, by Ury, -brung in by Josiah. - -Jack wuz in the right on’t. Tamer wuz goin’ to have a afternoon -party of the Allen race and dynasty and wanted Josiah and I to -be sure and come and stay all night, for the rest wuz comin’ and -goin’ by train and stage, and they would all go home that night -but us and mebby Celestine, and she begged Josiah and me to stay a -few days. Well, bein’ through with his hardest work and owin’ the -visit, Josiah consented to go and we sot off in good season and -arrove there about ten A. M. We see the house looked real stirred -up when we got there, the winders open above and below, and the -piazzas on both sides full of little groups of the relations; we -wuz about the last ones there, owin’ to most all the rest havin’ -come on the cars or the stage from Zoar and Loontown. - -Uncle Submit Allen and Aunt Patience and their three daughters -and their children, and Tamer’s brother’s folks and her Uncle -Preserved, and Aunt Priscilla and Aunt Nancy John and Aunt Nancy -Joe, widders of the old twins, John and Joseph Allen, and Uncle -Ichabod Allen, poor creeter! he had lost his wife, but he kep’ his -old maid girl to keep house for him; yes, Huldy wuz there, too, -takin’ first rate care of her Pa; Cousin Joel and his wife and -Marii, she is a kind of a widder, that is, her husband, Jotham -Allen, left her a year ago this comin’ fall, run away with Elam -Snyderses widder and a three-year-old colt that belonged to Marii, -and, as I told her, I should mourn some for the colt, but should -consider it wuz a colt well lost to git red of Jotham. A poor, -whifflin’ creeter, drinkin’ and behavin’, and had ever sence they -wuz married. Marii is a good deal better off without him, and she -begins to think so, too; she is a tailoress and gits good wages and -don’t have to have her heart and mind on a strain all the time. - -Why, sometimes I think it is easier to settle down and be real -onhappy than it is to be between and betwixt, and not know what -roll you will be called to play the next minute. If you know you -are onhappy you can set down and mourn and give your hull time to -it as it were, and not strain your mind, not knowin’ what you are -goin’ to do next. - -But to resoom. These relations I have named all pressed forwards in -the stoop to greet me; after Tamer and Anna and Jack, bless him! -had met us with a hearty welcome, Hamen, havin’ gin me a cordial -greetin’, had gone on to the horse barn with the mair and my -pardner. I see Celestine settin’ at the other end of the stoop with -her easel all up a’ready, and she paintin’ away at some landscape -or ruther, not mindin’ seemin’ly the waves of relationship surgin’ -round her on every side. But, as I drawed near, she did take her -brush in her other hand and shake hands with me, but her hand wuz -real limpsy, she didn’t realize me much of any, her mind wuzn’t in -our world at all as I could see. - -She wuz paintin’ the cloud effects on the water, she said, and -her canvas did look all kinder swashy and blue with some storks -storkin’ along in front, to give the picture character, she said, -and she said she never see the cloud effects more strikin’ than -they wuz that mornin’. - -And I sez, “Yes, like as not.” And I looked off dreamily for a -number of minutes. The lake lay like a long, bright mirror, and all -the tiny white and pink clouds that wuz floatin’ on the clear, blue -sky above wuz reflected on the face of the water, the willers that -grew along the banks on one side wuz reproduced and living agin -down in that strange underworld, and the big oak tree that sort o’ -bent over the water with a bluebird settin’ out on one branch and -singin’ sweet and clear. - -There they wuz livin’ agin, bluebird and all, it wuz a fair seen, -a fair seen, and I didn’t wonder that Celestine admired it. But -with all my admiration, and, though I wuz borne off a considerable -ways by my almost boundless delight in the seen, yet some practical -common sense remained with me. When anybody is in danger of -bein’ carried away by their emotions they ort to tie a string to -themselves as it were to bring themselves back to this life as long -as they have got to stay in it. And so I give a little hitch to -this string and found myself back in this world agin, and I sez, -“Where is little Mary!” - -“Oh,” sez Celestine, in a rapt way, “how sweetly the bird song -blends in with the tender feeling of the landscape, and yet a stork -is a more striking adjunct,” sez she. - -But I sez agin, “Where is little Mary?” - -And after repeating the question for the third time, she sez, -looking round her in a vague way, “Oh, I guess she is playing -somewhere with some of the children.” And I left her, she not -sensin’ it at all, and went down the steps towards the lake where I -heard the sound of children’s voices. I found little Mary settin’ -on a stun and lookin’ fur off onto the water, she had been throwing -pebbles into the clear depths, but sot still now, seemin’ly wropped -up in her thoughts. - -She seemed dretful glad to see me, and I her visey versey, sweet -little creeter! Jack joined us pretty soon, and we sot there for -some time, and I told ’em quite a number of stories, and I held -Mary in one arm and Jack in the other, and we enjoyed ourselves -first rate. But the voices of Duty and Tamer called me back to the -house and the assembled guests. Von Crank wuz there, for Tamer -would have it so, and he paid Anna all the attention he possibly -could, and she repulsed it all she could, so it made quite queer -times and quite romantic. But Anna told me out on the west piazza, -when we happened to be there alone, that since Cicero had been sent -to the penitentiary her Ma had not acted quite so headstrong and -stern about Von Crank, “But yet,” sez she, “I see her mind is still -set on our union, and what shall I do, Aunt Samantha? She has been -through so much trouble with Cicero. I am afraid any other blow -would be the means of killing her.” And she sez agin, as she had -said before, “I could never be happy, never, if I wuz the means of -breaking her heart, and so I don’t know what to do.” - -“Well,” sez I, “you’re young yet, you and Tom; you can wait a spell -and trust the Lord and ask Him to help you out of your wilderness.” - -“Oh, I do, Aunt Samantha! I ask Him, and I trust Him, or I couldn’t -live. He has seemed so much nearer than ever before since I have -been so wretched and haven’t known what to do.” - -“Well, you know who said that all things work together for good to -them that love God, and if you do love Him the promise is made to -you, and you must lay holt of it.” - -And then she went on and told me more about Tamer, and I did pity -her, pity her like a dog. She said when Cicero wuz sent away -her Pa, in the first hours when he wuz most dead with shame and -mortification, told his wife she wuz the cause of it all; she had -filled his brain with stories of vice and crime, and Cicero had -acted out what his brain had been filled with, and from what Anna -said I guess Hamen throwed Arabeller in her face and told her she -had, for the sake of convenience and what she called gentility, -just schooled Cicero in morbid romance and vicious adventure, and -he sez, “You are now reaping what you have sown.” Anna said her Ma -went into one hysterick fit after another, and she had to git her -Pa out of the room and take care of her herself day after day, and -sez she, “They are so cool to each other, now, I don’t believe they -will ever be even friends agin, and everything is so sad, Aunt -Samantha,” sez she. - -And agin I told her, “It is always the darkest jest before day, -Anna.” - -But little did I think whose small hand it wuz that wuz goin’ -to lift the cloud and let the light of reconciliation into the -darkened home life of Hamen and Tamer and bring their hearts -together agin. A Hamen realizin’ his own weaknesses and waywardness -and softenin’ into a feeling of pity for the blind mistakes of a -Tamer, and being willin’ to jine hands and hearts with her agin and -pick up the tangled threads of life and try to straighten ’em out -into plain runnin’ agin. Oh, poor little Jack! dear little creeter! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -But to resoom backwards agin. Anna said her Ma had not only acted -dretful cool and distant to her Pa ever since, but kep’ up a cool, -icy demeanor towards everybody who pitied her over Cicero’s fate. -And the thought her idee in givin’ the party wuz to show she could -still keep up and hold her ground, and wuz not such a forlorn -object of pity as they all seemed to think. Well, Tamer did look -queer, her face put me in mind some of our creek before it breaks -up in the spring, sort o’ cold and smooth and ice bound, and as if -you would be apt to slip up if you ventured a foot on it. - -Not one of the relations had dasted, so fur as I could make out, -to say one word to her about Cicero, and if relations don’t dast, -then who will! I myself didn’t feel like mentionin’ his name, no, -my feelin’s wuz so deep no plummet might sound ’em in regard to -that boy and his folks. Deep pity, knowledge of first causes, and -prophetic feelings I had as to sure results to spring from dime -novels, cigarettes, etc., made my feelin’s queer as a dog’s, a -black dog’s. And I didn’t feel like sayin’ one word, no, indeed, -I felt I had had my say, and, as I watched Tamer’s icy face, I -thought to myself I didn’t want to be anywhere round when the ice -broke up and the waves of remorse and regret washed tumultous. - -Well, she had an elegant dinner and supper, waited on in first -class style by a new girl, and I dassent for my life congratulate -Tamer on her efficient and neat lookin’ handmaid, no, I dassent -bring back any reminiscences of Arabeller, I kep’ still, and, -follerin’ the Scripter, I partook of what wuz set before me and -asked no questions for conscience sake. - -Uncle Ichabod, bein’ the oldest perfessor present, asked splendid -blessin’s at both meals, and everything moved on as smooth as -clockwork; the relations visited together and talked about the -news of the day and about the absent relation, as is their wont -to do on such occasions. The old ones settin’ with their heads -clost together tradin’ stories of the past; the middle-aged ones -strollin’ round or gossippin’ together on the porches or lawn, -talkin’ together of the present, their business, their failures and -successes; the young ones playin’ on the pianny, and the children -shoutin’ and laughin’ and havin’ the best time of all. - -And Celestine paintin’ away at that landscape and perfectin’ the -feathers of that stork. Two or three times I see little Mary -approach her and snuggle up against her and seem to want some -attention, but every time her Ma wuz too busy to notice her, some -of the tiny feathers on that stork’s legs callin’ for concentrated -attention, and the bulrushes on the bank had to be shaded jest -right, and so she told little Mary to run away, she couldn’t spend -any time with her. - -Well, the relations all went home on the evenin’ train and stage, -all but one or two of the business men, who had to go earlier, -them men took their pleasure grudgingly as if they didn’t really -know how to spend in social enjoyment and leisure the time that -should been devoted to pilin’ up treasures on earth. All went but -Celestine and little Mary and my pardner and me. By the urgent -requests of Tamer and Hamen, and the still more urgent pleas of -Anna and Jack, we stayed for several days, Josiah and Hamen goin’ -out for two days a-runnin’ to neighborin’ farmers to see the -operations of a new and curiously constructed windmill. Josiah -talks of rarin’ one up to home, and so duz Hamen. So, as Josiah -seemed to be contented and happy, I tried to be the same, though I -felt I wuz confronted by more curious, complicated problems than -any windmill that ever beat the air. - -Oh, how Tamer’s cold, icy demeanor chilled my heart! How Anna’s -sweet, patient, submissive air wrung the same almost to burstin’ -on’t! How the actions of Hamen and his brother to little Jack, -foolin’ him, deceivin’ him, and Tamer’s scrupulous attention to his -clothes and hair, and paying no attention whatever to his childish -soul needs, how all that wrought on the heart aforesaid! - -Von Crank went home on the train the relation took, so there wuz -one queer element less to contend with, and I trust I wuz thankful -for that mercy. After Von Crank left the queerest element that wuz -left I think in our soul atmosphere wuz Celestine’s pictures. They -looked queer, yes, indeed, they did! but her mind wuz all entangled -in their strange scenery, forgittin’ she had a sweet, lovely child -right by her side. And she wuz a lovely child. I realized it more -and more durin’ the days when we wuz so much together, her Ma bein’ -on the piazza and not to be disturbed. Mary’s eyes wuz so bright -and big and soft and had the very same look in ’em that Jack’s had -sometimes, they seemed to be lookin’ fur off into mysteries we -couldn’t see. And I spoze they see ’em, too, though in a strange -fashion, too pure and fine to be uttered in our language. - -I never looked at ’em when they wuz in these moods (alternated -on Jack’s part by loud yellin’ and kickin’ up), I never see that -dreamy, rapt look in their faces without bein’ reminded of the -verse about the children who always behold the face of the Father. -And I believe they did see Him, not in the divine form mebby, but -some mysterious afterglow of the divine brightness. - -And they wuz believin’ children, too, trustin’ children naturally, -though Jack, by hard experience, wuz learnin’ to doubt, and how -any one could look into their sweet, believin’ eyes and tell ’em -wrong stories, tryin’ to fool ’em, jest as if their sweet, childish -wisdom wuzn’t milds beyend their poor earthly knowledge, wuz more -than I could see. - -But Hamen and his brother had got so in the habit of tellin’ Jack -every story they could think of, would tell the same things to -Mary, and Celestine wuz too took up with her Art to notice. Truly -her pictures seemed to be a necessity of life to her, when, as -it seemed to me, she had more than enough for comfort, she wuz -hurryin’ to produce more. She offered to paint me a calendar, but I -mildly rejected the overtoor. I sez to her that the days and weeks -brought so many strange things as they went on that I guessed I had -jest as soon take ’em plain. I wuz polite to her, but gin her to -understand I wuzn’t sufferin’ for it. - -But Tamer wuz enthusiastick about ’em, and Celestine painted her -one with every week, showin’ a new animal kinder sprawlin’ round -it, amongst some strange flowers and things, I couldn’t have stood -it myself to had it round, but Tamer liked it, and Celestine said -she would paint one for the hull family. And, bein’ so wrought up -ornamentin’ the days of the week on paper, she entirely forgot -that the days and years of God held any duty for her, forgot the -sweet little soul he had gin to her charge for weal or woe, forgot -to speak a word to her from mornin’ till night. Why, it wuz worse -than the children mentioned in Scripter when they asked for bread -and got a stun, poor little Mary asked for the bread of love and -got nothin’ but a piece of paper, though there hain’t a stun on -the face of the earth, from Gibrialtar down to a slate stun, that -I wouldn’t ruther had gin to me than to have owned one of them -picters and had to look at it. But she kep’ at ’em. - -Well, it wuz the third day we had been there, and it wuz a -beautiful evenin’. I wuz settin’ in my winder overlookin’ the lake, -and, seein’ how bright the stars looked reflected in the smooth -water and how the crescent moon lay down there like a big golden -boat all full and flashin’ with light, and the glowin’ path that -led to it shone so it looked like one of them streets of gold we -read about in the New Jerusalem, it seemed so solid and bright that -it fairly tempted one to walk out on it and set sail in that great -dazzlin’ boat for the golden shores and fairy pinnacles of that -city that lay becalmed in the west. - -And as I sot there I heard, with a small part of my brain, the -other part bein’ occupied with my rapt musin’s, little Mary’s voice -talkin’ down under the winder on the stoop with her Uncle Hamen, -she had always lived inland and had never seen such a glorious -show on the water, the nights she had stayed there bein’ cloudy or -stormy, I hearn her say in her earnest way, “What is that light, -Uncle Hamen, way off there on the water? It looks like a great -shinin’ boat.” - -And then I hearn, as one who did not hear, Hamen say, “It is a -boat, Mary.” - -“Well, what are the little bright lights all round it? Are they -little playhouses for children? They look so small and bright, and -there is such a pretty path to ’em over the water.” - -And then I hearn Hamen go on, a little I heard there with my ears -onbeknown to me and a little I hearn afterwards from the lips of -a too late remorse, but ’tennyrate Hamen told her they wuz little -playhouses where good little boys and girls went to play, and asked -if she didn’t want to go and play in one of ’em. - -And she told him in her believin’, trustin’ way that she guessed -she would go out and live in one of them with Jack. - -And Hamen said it would be a good idee, they could take some dishes -and things and keep house there, and told her to talk to Jack about -it. And she pattered off to find Jack, and Hamen told his brother -about it, and they both tittered and laughed. But that I did hear -afterwards, I am truthful and will not lie even in moments of -excitement and tragedy, I did not hear the titters. - -Well, it wuzn’t long after that that Jack come into my room, and I, -bein’ so wropped round with my reverie, didn’t notice anything in -particular, but remember thinkin’ in a dreamy way that he looked -dretful buttoned up as if he wuz ready to start off somewhere, and -his pockets seemed kinder bulgin’ out, but if I thought anything, -I thought it wuz some of his and little Mary’s play, they played -keepin’ house and doctorin’ and visitin’ and everything. Well, he -come to me and asked me if folks ever lived in the stars? - -And I sez, “Sometimes I have thought so, Jack.” - -“You’re always sure nuff, Aunt Samantha, and that is why I asked -you. Do you spoze they are playgrounds where folks that are tired -out, wore out with folks here, can go with somebody they love and -have a good time?” - -I declare for’t I had been thinkin’ them very thoughts as I sot -there lookin’ at the stars and their bright reflections in the -water. I had been thinkin’ of how sweet it would be for them who -are unhappy, seperated by some cruel chance from them they love, -how sweet it would be if them shinin’ worlds wuz indeed restful, -lovely playgrounds where they could wander together like happy -children full of the delight and wonder of readin’ new truths and -new happiness in each other’s eyes. - -I had jest been thinkin’ of this when Jack come to me, and I -rousted up partly from my reverie some like one half asleep. But -even in the hours of meditation and reverie I cling to the apron -string of truth, and when he sez: - -“Do you spoze, Aunt Samantha, the stars are playgrounds?” - -I spozein’ he meant after this life instead of the present, -spozein’ he referred to the Over World, the Beautiful Hereafter -that is the groundwork of all my thoughts, no matter what set -flowers of reality is painted on it, I spozed he meant that, and I -sez half sadly, half hopefully: - -“I have thought it wuz, Jack, a place of beautiful play and -beautiful work.” - -And as I looked out agin on the lovely cloudy surface of the water, -gemmed by them gleaming orbs, sunthin’ like a sad life lit by a -glowin’ love and hope, I added: - -“Sometimes I have been sure of it.” - -And Jack sez, “Do you spoze there will be anybody there to answer -questions?” And I, thinkin’ of the strange riddles of this life, -and how much we need heavenly light on ’em, sez: - -“Yes, I am sure of that, Jack.” - -“Well, I sot for a spell longer lookin’ out dreamily and never took -particular notice of his warm kiss as he left me, he wuz always -kissin’ me, except thinkin’ mekanically it wuz a long and sticky -one, as they often wuz, owin’ to love and molasses candy. And it -wuzn’t more’n a spell after that before I ondressed and went to -bed, Josiah havin’ been reposin’ on his peaceful piller for some -time. And I, too, fell asleep. When all of a sudden I hearn steps -runnin’ round and excited talk goin’ on below, my first thought wuz -of burglars, but as the excitement seemed to increase I thought of -a conflagration and rousted up my companion, and sez: - -“Sunthin’ is the matter, Josiah Allen, you will have to git up and -see about it.” - -“Which is it to-night, Samantha,” sez he, in a sarcastick axent -that I despise, “is it a mouse or a burglar!” - -I looked witherin’ at him, and he sez, “I merely asked you so I -should know how to prepare to meet the foe, with a mouse trap or a -sord.” - -I deny that I git him up very often to tend to such things, not -oftener than once in a while, not oftener than the common run of -wimmen do. But the excitement continued to rain, and finally he -hearn it rain himself, and he sez: - -“Well, I guess there is sunthin’ the matter.” - -And jest then we hearn a rap on our door, and Josiah sez, “Who is -there? What is the matter?” - -And a voice answered, “Jack and Mary can’t be found!” - -And I riz right up and dressed me, and so did Josiah, I forebodin’ -all the time, a shadder of the great Onknown seemin’ to fall over -my mind and heart, as if preparin’ me for what wuz to come. - -When we got downstairs Tamer wuz in highstericks, and Celestine, -forgittin’ her art, wuz rushin’ round to and fro with a white -wrapper on and a whiter face, callin’ on little Mary in axents so -pitiful it almost seemed it would roust up a dead baby, let alone -a lovin’, livin’ child. Where wuz them strange animals in that -hour? They had walked clean away and left her in agony and despair. -She seemed to know from the first on’t that sunthin’ dretful had -happened, and so did Tamer. There are awful secrets that mothers -learn down in the Valley of Death where they go to claim their -babies, they learn things there and keep ’em in their inmost nater, -so clost that art or literatoor, however lurid, can’t dislodge ’em. -They felt what they couldn’t explain, hence the highstericks, -shriekin’, etc. - -Hamen and John, though lookin’ dretful troubled, kep’ on sayin’ -they wuz hid somewhere, they would be found, all right, they wuz -safe, but goin’ round at a good jog, nevertheless, tryin’ to find -’em. But it wuz my own pardner and myself that found them babies. -Alas, for the awful sight! alas, for the woeful sight! Yes, we -found ’em. - -There wuz a certain place quite a good ways from the house where -I knew the children often went to play at keepin’ house. An old -gnarled willow tree hung over the water, and in its crooked trunk -wuz a holler place where they kep’ their little dishes and things, -and one or two old dolls for children. Sunthin’ told me to look -there, and, follered by my faithful pardner, I went to the little -holler jest out of sight of the house. - -And there, with the moonlight fallin’ as sorrowful as if some -weepin’ angel of compassion wuz holdin’ down a lantern to light us -in our search, we found ’em. - -Jack had held up little Mary till his arms had fairly froze into -that poster of heroism, so she hadn’t been in the water nigh so -long. We knew he had tried to save her till his strength gin way -and his faithful little arms could no longer do the biddin’ of his -generous, lovin’ heart. Little hero! Many a man standin’ up above -the multitude on top of a monument did not die half so glorious a -death as you did. - -And, whether Jack went in after Mary to save her or whether he, -too, believed the story of the shinin’ playgrounds (alas! alas! -confirmed by me onbeknown to myself) and sot out for ’em with her, -we shall never know. All she could remember, sweet little soul! wuz -that she sot out to go to them happy playgrounds and sunk down, -down into blackness and night. - -But for half an hour little Mary’s soul wuz gone away, I wonder -where it wuz, anyway, it wuzn’t here. No, her white, cold body -didn’t have any tenant in it, no sign of one, there wuz no fire in -it, the light wuz blowed out, she wuz gone. - -The sweet little soul had gone away visitin’, and I would give--oh! -I don’t know what I wouldn’t give to know where it had gone. It -couldn’t be the Great Home we move into when our life lease ends -here on our earthly property. No, for when we once move out of this -earthly body we don’t move back into it agin, that is one of the -conditions of the transfer. No, it wuzn’t there, and where then -wuz it? I don’t know, nor Josiah don’t. But after a long, long time -it come back slowly, lingerin’ly, as if it hated to come. - -Celestine hung over her with a look on her face that made me -believe that if she ever did come back she would come into a new -world where love and care rained instead of art exclusively. Yes, -she come back agin, but Jack, dear little boy, he had gone away for -good. Yes, I say that word a-purpose, he had gone for good, good -for him, but for them who loved him so, what shall we say? - -I wonder if he wuz permitted to look forward and see what wuz to -be in the future; Tamer and Hamen brung together by the awful hand -of Grief and mutual remorse, Hamen a different, more Christian -man. Tamer’s icy, cold mean broke up and pulverized by the hand of -Grief, the flood of awakened remorse sweepin’ away on its current -old foolish ambitions, pride and self-will. Anna left free to -marry the man of her choice, Tamer and Hamen rousted up to good -deeds and the performance of duty, so layin’ up a store of blessed -remembrances to replace the old wretched ones. Cicero comin’ home -repentant to begin a new life under the guardianship of a new -father and mother, all this and more. - -But yet, oh, my poor Jack! that your dear little ice cold form wuz -to be the centre from which such blessed events should flow out! -Icy cold forehead with the brown curls layin’ on it like gleams of -gold, not warmin’ it up any; roses heaped in the tiny cold fingers -that did not close on what they loved so; tears falling on the -sweet face onnoticed and in vain. - -Good-by, dear little Jack--good-by! - - - - - +-------------------------------------------+ - | =A FEW FROM HUNDREDS OF PRESS NOTICES OF | - | | - | Around the World with Josiah Allen’s Wife | - | | - | By MARIETTA HOLLEY= | - +-------------------------------------------+ - - -“The persons who do not love quaint Josiah Allen’s wife have -something serious the matter with them. A more original and -delightful character does not exist. The homely old philosopher, -with her rugged sense, her quick wit, her unfailing humor, and -her lively faculty of observation, will make her old friends -more steadfast than ever and gain a host of new ones, by her -latest adventures. It is a rare privilege to read a book which -combines so happily the qualities of being both amusing and -wholesome.”--_Albany Times-Union._ - -“The author besides having a marked talent for humor, possesses -an effective capacity for pathos, and this book, besides being -excellent fiction, is an instructive geographical excursion.”--_New -York Evening Telegram._ - -“Josiah Allen’s wife is a familiar character in households all -over this broad land. Her doings in the past have been so closely -watched that she has secured a place at the family hearth, which -cannot be shaken. Her doings have been related and read aloud in -the family circle and when ‘the end’ was reached there has ever -been a sigh of regret.”--_Albany Evening News._ - -“A good many readers are acquainted with Josiah Allen’s wife -and have laughed with her as she philosophizes her smiling -way about this country. In this last book Josiah Allen’s wife -extends her territory and broadens her views as she covers the -ground.”--_Seattle Post-Intelligencer._ - -“True pathos, as well, is not lacking in Samantha’s reflections -upon what she sees and hears that is sad, and her true insight -into the springs of human action is often expressed in kindly and -humorous ridicule.”--_Milwaukee Evening Wisconsin._ - -“Pathetic and humorous incidents tumbling over each other in rapid -succession is the best the author has given to the public.”--_St. -Louis Mirror._ - -“Samantha has had her admirers these many years. Her humor has -caught the fancy of the people far and wide, while they have -been moved by her pathos at times. Samantha in this book is as -wise and witty in her own shrewd way as ever. She is entirely an -American character and one needs only to know her to appreciate -her.”--_Philadelphia Press._ - -“Provides you with a view of the universe through homely -spectacles, and stands by the while uttering good housewifely -philosophies calculated to make you laugh.”--_St. Louis Republic._ - -“Those who have enjoyed the discursive descriptions of Samantha’s -experiences at the great expositions and under other and varied -circumstances, will without doubt also enjoy this new book, ‘Around -the World with Josiah Allen’s Wife.’”--_New York Tribune._ - -“The best of her books.”--_Albany Press._ - -“One of the ‘classics’ of literary comedy.”--_Toledo Blade._ - - -=A large, handsome Volume, profusely illustrated and beautifully -bound in cloth. Price, $1.50= - - -=G. W. DILLINGHAM CO. Publishers, NEW YORK= - - - - -=TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE= - - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=. - - Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been - corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within - the text and consultation of external sources. - - Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the - text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. - - Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added, when - a predominant preference was found in the original book. - - Frontispiece: ‘_Frontispiece. Page 18._’ replaced by - ‘_Frontispiece_.’ - - Illustrations Page: ‘_Frontispiece_ 18’ replaced by - ‘_Frontispiece_’. - - Pg 91: Removed duplicate line ‘young man I ever set. He wuz - good’. - - Pg 123: Removed duplicate lines ‘relations; I don’t think it the - right thing to do. But I can’t help sayin’ that I did see - lots of things that’. - - Pg 133: ‘Beatious Ballet Girl’ replaced by ‘Beauteous Ballet Girl’. - - Pg 133: ‘hosuehold money’ replaced by ‘household money’. - - Pg 141: ‘It it were’ replaced by ‘If it were’. - - Pg 153: ‘it stand to’ replaced by ‘it stands to’. - - Pg 183: ‘that the children’ replaced by ‘than the children’. - - Pg 209: ‘right into our our’ replaced by ‘right into our’. - - Pg 213: ‘in not in Anna’ replaced by ‘is not in Anna’. - - Pg 230: ‘told me atferwards’ replaced by ‘told me afterwards’. - - Pg 230: ‘it took sights’ replaced by ‘It took sights’. - - Pg 241: ‘he stood still’ replaced by ‘she stood still’. - - Pg 258: ‘there is wuz’ replaced by ‘there it wuz’. - - Pg 263: ‘after twelve P.?’ replaced by ‘after twelve P. M.?’. - - Pg 270: ‘after Arabella’ replaced by ‘after Arabeller’. - - Pg 273: ‘cothes all muddy’ replaced by ‘clothes all muddy’. - - Pg 275: ‘“Nell,” sez Tamer’ replaced by ‘“Well,” sez Tamer’. - - Pg 276: ‘lighter that’ replaced by ‘lighter than’. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMANTHA ON CHILDREN’S -RIGHTS *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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