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+Project Gutenberg's Sweet Cicely, by Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Sweet Cicely
+       Or Josiah Allen as a Politician
+
+Author: Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+
+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7251]
+This file was first posted on March 31, 2003
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWEET CICELY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Richard Prairie, Tiffany Vergon, Charles
+Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+OR JOSIAH ALLEN AS A POLITICIAN
+
+By “Josiah Allen's Wife”: Marietta Holley
+
+_With Illustrations_
+
+Eighth Edition
+
+
+[Illustration: SWEET CICELY.]
+
+
+
+TO
+
+THE SAD-EYED MOTHERS,
+
+WHO, LIKE CICELY,
+
+ARE LOOKING ACROSS THE CRADLE OF THEIR
+
+BOYS INTO THE GREAT WORLD OF
+
+TEMPTATION AND DANGER,
+
+This Book is Dedicated.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+Josiah and me got to talkin' it over. He said it wuzn't right to think
+more of one child than you did of another.
+
+And I says, “That is so, Josiah.”
+
+And he says, “Then, why did you say yesterday, that you loved sweet
+Cicely better than any of the rest of your thought-children? You said
+you loved 'em all, and was kinder sorry for the hull on 'em, but you
+loved her the best: what made you say it?”
+
+Says I, “I said it, to tell the truth.”
+
+“Wall, what did you do it _for_?” he kep' on, determined to get a
+reason.
+
+“I did it,” says I, a comin' out still plainer,--“I did it to keep from
+lyin'.”
+
+“Wall, when you say it hain't right to feel so, what makes you?”
+
+“I don't know, Josiah,” says I, lookin' at him, and beyend him, way into
+the depths of emotions and feelin's we can't understand nor help,--
+
+“I don't know why, but I know I do.”
+
+And he drawed on his boots, and went out to the barn.
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+It was somewhere about the middle of winter, along in the forenoon, that
+Josiah Allen was telegrafted to, unexpected. His niece Cicely and her
+little boy was goin' to pass through Jonesville the next day on her way
+to visit her aunt Mary (aunt on her mother's side), and she would stop
+off, and make us a short visit if convenient.
+
+We wuz both tickled, highly tickled; and Josiah, before he had read the
+telegraf ten minutes, was out killin' a hen. The plumpest one in the
+flock was the order I give; and I wus a beginnin' to make a fuss, and
+cook up for her.
+
+We loved her jest about as well as we did Tirzah Ann. Sweet Cicely was
+what we used to call her when she was a girl. Sweet Cicely is a plant
+that has a pretty white posy. And our niece Cicely was prettier and
+purer and sweeter than any posy that ever grew: so we thought then, and
+so we think still.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH TELLING THE NEWS TO SAMANTHA.]
+
+Her mother was my companion's sister,--one of a pair of twins, Mary and
+Maria, that thought the world of each other, as twins will. Their mother
+died when they wus both of 'em babies; and they wus adopted by a rich
+aunt, who brought 'em up elegant, and likely too: that I will say for
+her, if she wus a 'Piscopal, and I a Methodist. I am both liberal and
+truthful--very.
+
+Maria wus Cicely's ma, and she wus left a widow when she wus a young
+woman; and Cicely wus her only child. And the two wus bound up in each
+other as I never see a mother and daughter in my life before or sense.
+
+The third year after Josiah and me wus married, Maria wusn't well, and
+the doctor ordered her out into the country for her health; and she and
+little Cicely spent the hull of that summer with us. Cicely wus about
+ten; and how we did love that girl! Her mother couldn't bear to have her
+out of her sight; and I declare, we all of us wus jest about as bad.
+And from that time they used to spend most all of their summers in
+Jonesville. The air agreed with 'em, and so did I: we never had a word
+of trouble. And we used to visit them quite a good deal in the winter
+season: they lived in the city.
+
+Wall, as Cicely got to be a young girl, I used often to set and look at
+her, and wonder if the Lord could have made a prettier, sweeter girl
+if he had tried to. She looked to me jest perfect, and so she did to
+Josiah.
+
+And she knew so much, too, and wus so womanly and quiet and deep. I
+s'pose it wus bein' always with her mother that made her seem older and
+more thoughtful than girls usially are. It seemed as if her great dark
+eyes wus full of wisdom beyend--fur beyend--her years, and sweetness
+too. Never wus there any sweeter eyes under the heavens than those of
+our niece Cicely.
+
+She wus very fair and pale, you would think at first; but, when you
+would come to look closer, you would see there was nothing sickly in
+her complexion, only it was very white and smooth,--a good deal like
+the pure white leaves of the posy Sweet Cicely. She had a gentle, tender
+mouth, rose-pink; and her cheeks wuz, when she would get rousted up and
+excited about any thing; and then it would all sort o' die out again
+into that pure white. And over all her face, as sweet and womanly as it
+was, there was a look of power, somehow, a look of strength, as if she
+would venture much, dare much, for them she loved. She had the gift, not
+always a happy one, of loving,--a strength of devotion that always has
+for its companion-trait a gift of endurance, of martyrdom if necessary.
+
+She would give all, dare all, endure all, for them she loved. You could
+see that in her face before you had been with her long enough to see it
+in her life.
+
+Her hair wus a soft, pretty brown, about the color of her eyes. And
+she wus a little body, slender, and sort o' plump too; and her arms and
+hands and neck wus soft and white as snow almost.
+
+Yes, we loved Cicely: and no one could blame us, or wonder at us for
+callin' her after the posy Sweet Cicely; for she wus prettier than any
+posy that ever blew, enough sight.
+
+Wall, she had always said she couldn't live if her mother died.
+
+But she did, poor little creeter! she did.
+
+Maria died when Cicely wus about eighteen. She had always been delicate,
+and couldn't live no longer: so she died. And Josiah and me went right
+after the poor child, and brought her home with us.
+
+[Illustration: CICELY.]
+
+She lived, Cicely did, because she wus young, and couldn't die. And
+Josiah and me wus dretful good to her; and many's the nights that I
+have gone into her room when I'd hear her cryin' way along in the night;
+many's the times I have gone in, and took her in my arms, and held her
+there, and cried with her, and soothed her, and got her to sleep, and
+held her in my arms like a baby till mornin'. Wall, she lived with us
+most a year that time; and it wus about two years after, while she wus
+to some of her father's folks'es (they wus very rich), that she met the
+young man she married,--Paul Slide.
+
+He wus a handsome young man, well-behaved, only he would drink a little
+once in a while: he'd got into the habit at college, where his mate wus
+wild, and had his turns. But he wus very pretty in his manners, Paul
+was,--polite, good-natured, generous-dispositioned,--and very rich.
+
+And as to his looks, there wuzn't no earthly fault to find with him,
+only jest his chin. And I told Josiah, that how Cicely could marry a man
+with such a chin wus a mystery to me.
+
+And Josiah said, “What is the matter with his chin?”
+
+And I says, “Why, it jest sets right back from his mouth: he hain't got
+no chin at all hardly,” says I. “The place where his chin ort to be is
+nothin' but a holler place all filled up with irresolution and weakness.
+And I believe Cicely will see trouble with that chin.”
+
+And then--I well remember it, for it was the very first time
+after marriage, and so, of course, the very first time in our two
+lives--Josiah called me a fool, a “dumb fool,” or jest the same as
+called me so. He says, “I wouldn't be a dumb fool if I was in your
+place.”
+
+I felt worked up. But, like warriors on a battle-field, I grew stronger
+for the fray; and the fray didn't scare me none.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SLIDE.]
+
+But I says, “You'll see if you live, Josiah Allen”; and he did.
+
+But, as I said, I didn't see how Cicely ever fell in love with a man
+with such a chin. But, as I learned afterwards, she fell in love with
+him under a fur collar. It wus on a slay-ride. And he wuz very handsome
+from his mouth up, very: his mouth wuz ruther weak. It wus a case of
+love at first sight, which I believe in considerable; and she couldn't
+help lovin' him, women are so queer.
+
+I had always said that when Cicely did love, it would go hard with her.
+Many's the offers she'd had, but didn't care for 'em. But I knew, with
+her temperament and nater, that love, if it did come to her, would come
+to stay, and it would come hard and voyalent. And so it did.
+
+She worshipped him, as I said at first, under a fur collar. And then,
+when a woman once gets to lovin' a man as she did, why, she can't help
+herself, chin or no chin. When a woman has once throwed herself in front
+of her idol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of
+gold, or holler: it hain't so much matter _what_ they be, I think.
+Curius, hain't it?
+
+It hain't the easiest thing in the world for such a woman as Cicely to
+love, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she found
+out afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his
+head with liquor; and it wus my advice to her, to give him up.
+
+And she tried to unlove him, tried to give him up.
+
+But, good land! she might jest as well have took a piece of her own
+heart out, as to take out of it her love for him: it had become a part
+of her. And he told her she could save him, her influence could redeem
+him, and it wus the only thing that could save him.
+
+And Cicely couldn't stand such talk, of course; and she believed
+him--believed that she could love him so well, throw her influence so
+around him, as to hold him back from any evil course.
+
+It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of
+folly a woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of
+the idee, to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in
+its utter uselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done--not in 98
+cases out of a 100 at least.
+
+Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to
+win her affection,--when he is on probation, as you may say,--to stop
+and turn round in his downward course, how can she expect he will after
+he has got her, and has let down his watch, so to speak?
+
+But she loved him. And when I warned her with tears in my eyes, warned
+her that mebby it wus more than her own safety and happiness that wus
+imperilled, I could see by the look in her eyes, though she didn't
+say much, that it wusn't no use for me to talk; for she wus one of
+the constant natures that can't wobble round. And though I don't like
+wobblin', still I do honestly believe that the wobblers are happier than
+them that can't wobble.
+
+I could see jest how it wuz, and I couldn't bear to have her blamed. And
+I would tell folks,--some of the relations on her mother's side,--when
+they would say, “What a fool she wus to have him!”--I'd say to 'em,
+“Wall, when a woman sees the man she loves goin' down to ruination,
+and tries to unlove him, she'll find out jest how much harder it is to
+unlove him than to love him in the first place: they'll find out it is a
+tough job to tackle.”
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND THE “BLAMERS.”]
+
+I said this to blamers of Cicely (relatives, the best blamers you can
+find anywhere). But, at the same time, it would have been my way, when
+he had come a courtin' me so far gone with liquor that he could hardly
+stand up--why, I should have told him plain, that I wouldn't try to set
+myself up as a rival to alcohol, and he might pay to that his attentions
+exclusively hereafter.
+
+But she didn't. And he promised sacred to abstain, and could, and did,
+for most a year; and she married him.
+
+But, jest before the marriage, I got so rousted up a thinkin' about what
+I had heard of him at college,--and I studied on his picture, which she
+had sent me, took sideways too, and I could see plain (why, he hadn't no
+chin at all, as you may say; and his lips was weak and waverin' as
+ever lips was, though sort o' amiable and fascinating),--and I got to
+forebodin' so about that chin, and my love for her wus a hunchin' me up
+so all the time, that I went to see her on a short tower, to beset her
+on the subject. But, good land! I might have saved my breath, I might
+have saved my tower.
+
+I cried, and she cried too. And I says to her before I thought,--
+
+“He'll be the ruin of you, Cicely.”
+
+And she says, “I would rather be beaten by his hand, than to be crowned
+by another. Why, I love him, aunt Samantha.”
+
+You see, that meant a awful sight to her. And as she looked at me so
+earnest and solemn, with tears in them pretty brown eyes, there wus in
+her look all that that word could possibly mean to any soul.
+
+But I cried into my white linen handkerchief, and couldn't help it, and
+couldn't help sayin', as I see that look,--
+
+“Cicely, I am afraid he will break your heart--kill you”--
+
+“Why, I am not afraid to die when I am with him. I am afraid of
+nothing--of life, or death, or eternity.”
+
+Well, I see my talk was no use. I see she'd have him, chin or no chin.
+If I could have taken her up in my arms, and run away with her then and
+there, how much misery I could have saved her from! But I couldn't: I
+had the rheumatiz. And I had to give up, and go home disappointed, but
+carryin' this thought home with me on my tower,--that I had done my duty
+by our sweet Cicely, and could do no more.
+
+As I said, he promised firm to give up drinking. But, good land! what
+could you expect from that chin? That chin couldn't stand temptation if
+it came in his way. At the same time, his love for Cicely was such, and
+his good heart and his natural gentlemanly intuitions was such, that, if
+he could have been kep' out of the way of temptation, he would have been
+all right.
+
+If there hadn't been drinking-saloons right in front of that chin, if
+it could have walked along the road without runnin' right into 'em,
+it would have got along. That chin, and them waverin'-lookin', amiable
+lips, wouldn't have stirred a step out of their ways to get ruined and
+disgraced: they wouldn't have took the trouble to.
+
+And for a year or so he and the chin kep' out of the way of
+temptation, or ruther temptation kep' out of their way; and Cicely was
+happy,--radiently happy, as only such a nature as hern can be. Her face
+looked like a mornin' in June, it wus so bright, and glowing with joy
+and happy love.
+
+I visited her, stayed 3 days and 2 nights with her; and I almost forgot
+to forebode about the lower part of his face, I found 'em so happy and
+prosperous and likely.
+
+Paul wus very rich. He wus the only child: and his pa left 2 thirds of
+his property to him, and the other third to his ma, which wus more than
+she could ever use while she wus alive; and at her death it wus to go to
+Paul and his heirs.
+
+They owned most all of the village they lived in. His pa had owned the
+township the village was built on, and had built most all the village
+himself, and rented the buildings. He owned a big manufactory there, and
+the buildings rented high.
+
+Wall, it wus in the second year of their marriage that that old college
+chumb--(and I wish he had been chumbed by a pole, before he had ever
+gone there). He had lost his property, and come down in the world,
+and had to work for a livin'; moved into that village, and opened a
+drinking-saloon and billiard-room.
+
+He had been Paul's most intimate friend at college, and his evil
+genius, so his mother said. But he was bright, witty, generous in a way,
+unprincipled, dissipated. And he wanted Paul's company, and he wanted
+Paul's money; and he had a chin himself, and knew how to manage them
+that hadn't any.
+
+Wall, Cicely and his mother tried to keep Paul from that bad influence.
+But he said it would look shabby to not take any notice of a man because
+he wus down in the world. He wouldn't have much to do with him, but it
+wouldn't do to not notice him at all. How curius, that out of good comes
+bad, and out of bad, good. That was a good-natured idee of Paul's if he
+had had a chin that could have held up his principle; but he didn't.
+
+So he gradually fell under the old influence again. He didn't mean to.
+He hadn't no idee of doin' so when he begun. It was the chin.
+
+He begun to drink hard, spent his nights in the saloon,
+gambled,--slipped right down the old, smooth track worn by millions of
+jest such weak feet, towards ruin. And Cicely couldn't hold him back
+after he had got to slippin': her arms wuzn't strong enough.
+
+She went to the saloon-keeper, and cried, and begged of him not to sell
+her husband any more liquor. He was very polite to her, very courteous:
+everybody was to Cicely. But in a polite way he told her that Paul wus
+his best customer, and he shouldn't offend him by refusing to sell him
+liquor. She knelt at his feet, I hearn,--her little, tender limbs on
+that rough floor before that evil man,--and wept, and said,--
+
+“For the sake of her boy, wouldn't he have mercy on the boy's father.”
+
+But in a gentle way he gave her to understand that he shouldn't make no
+change.
+
+And he told her, speakin' in a dretful courteous way, “that he had the
+law on his side: he had a license, and he should keep right on as he was
+doing.”
+
+[Illustration: CICELY IN THE SALOON.]
+
+And so what could Cicely do? And time went on, carryin' Paul further and
+further down the road that has but one ending. Lower and lower he sunk,
+carryin' her heart, her happiness, her life, down with him.
+
+And they said one cold night Paul didn't come home at all, and Cicely
+and his mother wus half crazy; and they wus too proud, to the last, to
+tell the servants more than they could help: so, when it got to be most
+mornin', them two delicate women started out through the deep snow, to
+try to find him, tremblin' at every little heap of snow that wus tumbled
+up in the path in front of 'em; tremblin' and sick at heart with the
+agony and dread that wus rackin' their souls, as they would look
+over the cold fields of snow stretching on each side of the road, and
+thinkin' how that face would look if it wus lying there staring with
+lifeless eyes up towards the cold moonlight,--the face they had kissed,
+the face they had loved,--and thinkin', too, that the change that had
+come to it--was comin' to it all the time--was more cruel and hopeless
+than the change of death.
+
+So they went on, clear to the saloon; and there they found him,--there
+he lay, perfectly stupid, and dead with liquor.
+
+And they both, the broken-hearted mother and the broken-hearted
+wife, with the tears running down their white cheeks, besought the
+saloon-keeper to let him alone from that night.
+
+The mother says, “Paul is so good, that if you did not tempt him, entice
+him here, he would, out of pity to us, stop his evil ways.”
+
+And the saloon-keeper was jest as polite as any man wus ever seen to
+be,--took his hat off while he told 'em, so I hearn, “that he couldn't
+go against his own interests: if Paul chose to spend his money there, he
+should take it.”
+
+“Will you break our hearts?” cried the mother.
+
+“Will you ruin my husband, the father of my boy?” sobbed out Cicely, her
+big, sorrowful eyes lookin' right through his soul--if he _had_ a soul.
+
+And then the man, in a pleasant tone, reminded 'em,--
+
+“That it wuzn't him that wus a doin' this. It wus the law: if they
+wanted things changed, they must look further than him. He had a
+license. The great Government of the United States had sold him, for a
+few dollars, the right to do just what he was doing. The law, and all
+the respectability that the laws of our great and glorious Republic can
+give, bore him out in all his acts. The law was responsible for all
+the consequenses of his acts: the men were responsible who voted for
+license--it was not him.”
+
+“But you _can_ do what we ask if you will, out of pity to Paul, pity to
+us who love him so, and who are forced to stand by powerless, and see
+him going to ruin--we who would die for him willingly if it would do any
+good. You _can_ do this.”
+
+He was a little bit intoxicated, or he wouldn't have gid 'em the cruel
+sneer he did at the last,--though he sneeren polite,--a holdin' his hat
+in his hand.
+
+“As I said, my dear madam, it is not I, it is the law; and I see no
+other way for you ladies who feel so about it, only to vote, and change
+the laws.”
+
+“Would to God I _could!_” said the old white-haired mother, with her
+solemn eyes lifted to the heavens, in which was her only hope.
+
+“Would to God I could!” repeated my sweet Cicely, with her eyes fastened
+on the face of him who had promised to cherish her, and comfort her,
+and protect her, layin' there at her feet, a mark for jeers and sneers,
+unable to speak a word, or lift his hand, if his wife and mother had
+been killed before him.
+
+But they couldn't do any thing. They would have lain their lives down
+for him at any time, but that wouldn't do any good. The lowest, most
+ignorant laborer in their employ had power in this matter, but they had
+none. They had intellectual power enough, which, added to their
+utter helplessness, only made their burden more unendurable; for they
+comprehended to the full the knowledge of what was past, and what must
+come in the future unless help came quickly. They had the strength of
+devotion, the strength of unselfish love.
+
+They had the will, but they hadn't nothin' to tackle it onto him with,
+to draw him back. For their prayers, their midnight watches, their
+tears, did not avail, as I said: they went jest so far; they touched
+him, but they lacked the tacklin'-power that was wanted to grip holt of
+him, and draw him back. What they needed was the justice of the law to
+tackle the injustice; and they hadn't got it, and couldn't get holt of
+it: so they had to set with hands folded, or lifted to the heavens in
+wild appeal,--either way didn't help Paul any,--and see him a sinkin'
+and a sinkin', slippin' further and further down; and they had to let
+him go.
+
+He drunk harder and harder, neglected his business, got quarrelsome. And
+one night, when the heavens was curtained with blackness, like a pall
+let down to cover the accursed scene, he left Cicely with her pretty
+baby asleep on her bosom, went down to the saloon, got into a quarrel
+with that very friend of hisen, the saloon-keeper, over a game of
+billiards,--they was both intoxicated,--and then and there Paul
+committed _murder_, and would have been hung for it if he hadn't died in
+State's prison the night before he got his sentence.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SHOOTING HIS FRIEND.]
+
+Awful deed! Dreadful fate! But no worse, as I told Josiah when he wus a
+groanin' over it; no worse, I told the children when they was a cryin'
+over it; no worse, I told my own heart when the tears wus a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water,--no worse because Cicely happened to be our
+relation, and we loved her as we did our own eyes.
+
+And our broad land is _full_ of jest such sufferin's, jest such crimes,
+jest such disgrace, caused by the same cause;--as I told Josiah,
+suffering, disgrace, and crime made legal and protected by the law.
+
+And Josiah squirmed as I said it; and I see him squirm, for he believed
+in it: he believed in licensing this shame and disgrace and woe; he
+believed in makin' it respectable, and wrappin' round it the mantilly of
+the law, to keep it in a warm, healthy, flourishin' condition. Why, he
+had helped do it himself; he had helped the United States lift up the
+mantilly; he had voted for it.
+
+He squirmed, but turned it off by usin' his bandana hard, and sayin', in
+a voice all choked down with grief,--
+
+“Oh, poor Cicely! poor girl!”
+
+“Yes,” says I, “'poor girl!' and the law you uphold has made her; 'poor
+girl'--has killed her; for she won't live through it, and you and the
+United States will see that she won't.”
+
+He squirmed hard; and my feelin's for him are such that I can't bear
+to see him squirm voyalently, as much as I blamed him and the United
+States, and as mad as I was at both on 'em.
+
+So I went to cryin' agin silently under my linen handkerchief, and he
+cried into his bandana. It wus a awful blow to both on us.
+
+Wall, she lived, Cicely did, which was more than we any one of us
+thought she could do. I went right there, and stayed six weeks with her,
+hangin' right over her bed, night and day; and so did his mother,--she a
+brokenhearted woman too. Her heart broke, too, by the United States; and
+so I told Josiah, that little villain that got killed was only one of
+his agents. Yes, her heart was broke; but she bore up for Cicely's sake
+and the boy's. For it seemed as if she felt remorsful, and as if it was
+for them that belonged to him who had ruined her life, to help her all
+they could.
+
+Wall, after about three weeks Cicely begun to live. And so I wrote to
+Josiah that I guessed she would keep on a livin' now, for the sake of
+the boy.
+
+And so she did. And she got up from that bed a shadow,--a faint, pale
+shadow of the girl that used to brighten up our home for us. She was our
+sweet Cicely still. But she looked like that posy after the frost has
+withered it, and with the cold moonlight layin' on it.
+
+Good and patient she wuz, and easy to get along with; for she seemed to
+hold earthly things with a dretful loose grip, easy to leggo of 'em. And
+it didn't seem as if she had any interest at all in life, or care for
+any thing that was a goin' on in the world, till the boy wus about four
+years old; and then she begun to get all rousted up about him and
+his future. “She _must_ live,” she said: “she had got to live, to do
+something to help him in the future.”
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND THE BOY.]
+
+“She couldn't die,” she told me, “and leave him in a world that was so
+hard for boys, where temptations and danger stood all round her boy's
+pathway. Not only hidden perils, concealed from sight, so he might
+possibly escape them, but open temptations, open dangers, made as
+alluring as private avarice could make them, and made as respectable as
+dignified legal enactments could make them,--all to draw her boy down
+the pathway his poor father descended.” For one of the curius things
+about Cicely wuz, she didn't seem to blame Paul hardly a mite, nor not
+so very much the one that enticed him to drink. She went back further
+than them: she laid the blame onto our laws; she laid the responsibility
+onto the ones that made 'em, directly and indirectly, the legislators
+and the voters.
+
+Curius that Cicely should feel so, when most everybody said that he
+could have stopped drinking if he had wanted to. But then, I don't know
+as I could blame her for feelin' so when I thought of Paul's chin and
+lips. Why, anybody that had them on 'em, and was made up inside and
+outside accordin', as folks be that have them looks; why, unless they
+was specially guarded by good influences, and fenced off from bad
+ones,--why, they _could not_ exert any self-denial and control and
+firmness.
+
+Why, I jest followed that chin and that mouth right back through seven
+generations of the Slide family. Paul's father wus a good man, had a
+good face; took it from his mother: but his father, Paul's grandfather,
+died a drunkard. They have got a oil-portrait of him at Paul's old home:
+I stopped there on my way home from Cicely's one time. And for all the
+world he looked most exactly like Paul,--the same sort of a irresolute,
+handsome, weak, fascinating look to him. And all through them portraits
+I could trace that chin and them lips. They would disappear in some of
+'em, but crop out agin further back. And I asked the housekeeper, who
+had always lived in the family, and wus proud of it, but honest; and she
+knew the story of the hull Slide race.
+
+And she said that every one of 'em that had that face had traits
+accordin'; and most every one of 'em got into trouble of some kind.
+
+One or two of 'em, specially guarded, I s'pose, by good influences, got
+along with no further trouble than the loss of the chin, and the feelin'
+they must have had inside of 'em, that they wuz liable to crumple right
+down any minute.
+
+And as they wus made with jest them looks, and jest them traits, born
+so, entirely unbeknown to them, I don't know as I can blame Cicely for
+feelin' as she did. If temptation hadn't stood right in the road in
+front of him, why, he'd have got along, and lived happy. That's Cicely's
+idee. And I don't know but she's in the right ont.
+
+But as I said, when her child wus about four years old, Cicely took a
+turn, and begun to get all worked up and excited by turns a worryin'
+about the boy. She'd talk about it a sight to me, and I hearn it from
+others.
+
+She rousted up out of her deathly weakness and heartbroken, stunted
+calm,--for such it seemed to be for the first two or three years after
+her husband's death. She seemed to make an effort almost like that of a
+dead man throwin' off the icy stupor of death, and risin' up with numbed
+limbs, and shakin' off the death-robes, and livin' agin. She rousted up
+with jest such a effort, so it seemed, for the boy's sake.
+
+She must live for the boy; she must work for the boy; she must try to
+throw some safeguards around his future. What _could_ she do to help
+him? That wus the question that was a hantin' her soul.
+
+It wus jest like death for her to face the curius gaze of the world
+again; for, like a wounded animal, she had wanted to crawl away, and
+hide her cruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the
+sharp-sot eyes of the babblin' world.
+
+But she endured it. She came out of her quiet home, where her heart had
+bled in secret; she came out into society again; and she did every
+thing she could, in her gentle, quiet way. She joined temperance
+societies,--helped push 'em forward with her money and her influence.
+With other white-souled wimmen, gentle and refined as she was, she went
+into rough bar-rooms, and knelt on their floors, and prayed what her sad
+heart wus full of,--for pity and mercy for her boy, and other mothers'
+boys,--prayed with that fellowship of suffering that made her sweet
+voice as pathetic as tears, and patheticker, so I have been told.
+
+But one thing hurt her influence dretfully, and almost broke her own
+heart. Paul had left a very large property, but it wus all in the
+hands of an executor until the boy wus of age. He wus to give Cicely a
+liberal, a very liberal, sum every year, but wus to manage the property
+jest as he thought best.
+
+He wus a good business man, and one that meant to do middlin' near
+right, but wus close for a bargain, and sot, awful sot. And though he
+wus dretful polite, and made a stiddy practice right along of callin'
+wimmen “angels,” still he would not brook a woman's interference.
+
+Wall, he could get such big rents for drinkin'-saloons, that four
+of Cicely's buildings wus rented for that purpose; and there wus one
+billiard-room. And what made it worse for Cicely seemin'ly, it wus her
+own property, that she brought to Paul when she wus married, that wus
+invested in these buildings. At that time they wus rented for dry-goods
+stores, and groceries. But the business of the manufactories had
+increased greatly; and there wus three times the population now there
+wus when she went there to live, and more saloons wus needed; and these
+buildings wus handy; and the executer had big prices offered to him,
+and he would rent 'em as he wanted to. And then, he wus something of a
+statesman; and he felt, as many business men did, that they wus fairly
+sufferin' for more saloons to enrich the government.
+
+Why, out of every hundred dollars that them poor laboring-men had earned
+so hardly, and paid into the saloons for that which, of course, wus
+ruinous to themselves and families, and, of course, rendered them
+incapable of all labor for a great deal of the time,--why, out of that
+hundred dollars, as many as 2 cents would go to the government to enrich
+it.
+
+Of course, the government had to use them 2 cents right off towards
+buyin' tight-jackets to confine the madmen the whiskey had made, and
+poorhouse-doors for the idiots it had breeded, to lean up aginst, and
+buryin' the paupers, and buyin' ropes to hang the murderers it had
+created.
+
+But still, in some strange way, too deep, fur too deep, for a woman's
+mind to comprehend, it wus dretful profitable to the government.
+
+Now, if them poor laborin'-men had paid that 2 cents of theirn to the
+government themselves, in the first place, in direct taxation, why, that
+wouldn't have been statesmanship. That is a deep study, and has a great
+many curius performances, and it has to perform.
+
+[Illustration: UNCLE SAM ENRICHING THE GOVERNMENT.]
+
+Cicely tried her very best to get the executor to change in this one
+matter; but she couldn't move him the width of a horse-hair, and he a
+smilin' all the time at her, and polite. He liked Cicely: nobody could
+help likin' the gentle, saintly-souled little woman. But he wus sot: he
+wus makin' money fast by it, and she had to give up.
+
+And rough men and women would sometimes twit her of it,--of her property
+bein' used to advance the liquor-traffic, and ruin men and wimmen; and
+she a feelin' like death about it, and her hands tied up, and powerless.
+No wonder that her face got whiter and whiter, and her eyes bigger and
+mournfuller-lookin'.
+
+Wall, she kep' on, tryin' to do all she could: she joined the Woman's
+Temperance Union; she spent her money free as water, where she thought
+it would do any good, and brought up the boy jest as near right as she
+could possibly bring him up; and she prayed, and wept right when she wus
+a bringin' of him, a thinkin' that _her_ property wus a bein' used every
+day and every hour in ruinin' other mothers' boys. And the boy's face
+almost breakin' her heart every time she looked at it; for, though he
+wus jest as pretty as a child could be, the pretty rosy lips had the
+same good-tempered, irresolute curve to 'em that the boy inherited
+honestly. And he had the same weak, waverin' chin. It was white and rosy
+now, with a dimple right in the centre, sweet enough to kiss. But
+the chin wus there, right under the rosy snow and the dimple; and I
+foreboded, too, and couldn't blame Cicely a mite for her forebodin', and
+her agony of sole.
+
+I noticed them lips and that chin the very minute Josiah brought him
+into the settin'-room, and set him down; and my eyes looked dubersome at
+him through my specks. Cicely see it, see that dubersome look, though
+I tried to turn it off by kissin' him jest as hearty as I could after
+I had took the little black-robed figure of his mother, and hugged her
+close to my heart, and kissed her time and time agin.
+
+She always dressed in the deepest of mournin', and always would. I knew
+that.
+
+Wall, we wus awful glad to see Cicely. I had had the old fireplace fixed
+in the front spare room, and a crib put in there for the boy; and I went
+right up to her room with her. And when we had got there, I took her
+right in my arms agin, as I used to, and told her how glad I wus, and
+how thankful I wus, to have her and the boy with us.
+
+The fire sparkled up on the old brass handirons as warm as my welcome.
+Her bed and the boy's bed looked white and cozy aginst the dark red
+of the carpet and the cream-colored paper. And after I had lowered the
+pretty ruffled muslin curtains (with red ones under 'em), and pulled
+a stand forward, and lit a lamp,--it wus sundown,--the room looked
+cheerful enough for anybody, and it seemed as if Cicely looked a little
+less white and brokenhearted. She wus glad to be with me, and said
+she wuz. But right there--before supper; and we could smell the roast
+chicken and coffee, havin' left the stair-door open--right there, before
+we had visited hardly any, or talked a mite about other wimmen, she
+begun on what she wanted to do, and what she _must_ do, for the boy.
+
+I had told her how the boy had grown, and that sot her off. And from
+that night, every minute of her time almost, when she could without
+bein' impolite and troublesome (Cicely wus a perfect lady, inside and
+out), she would talk to me about what she wanted to do for the boy, to
+have the laws changed before he grew up; she didn't dare to let him go
+out into the world with the laws as they was now, with temptation on
+every side of him.
+
+[Illustration: THE SPARE ROOM.]
+
+“You know, aunt Samantha,” she says to me, “that I wanted to die when my
+husband died; but I want to live now. Why, I _must_ live; I cannot
+die, I dare not die until my boy is safer. I will work, I will die if
+necessary, for him.”
+
+It wus the same old Cicely, I see, not carin' for herself, but carin'
+only for them she loved. Lovin' little creeter, good little creeter, she
+always wuz, and always would be. And so I told Josiah.
+
+Wall, we had the boy set between us to the supper-table, Josiah and me
+did, in Thomas Jefferson's little high-chair. I had new covered it on
+purpose for him with bright copperplate calico.
+
+And that night at supper, and after supper, I judged, and judged
+calmly,--we made the estimate after we went to bed, Josiah and me
+did,--that the boy asked 3 thousand and 85 questions about every thing
+under the sun and moon, and things over 'em, and outside of 'em, and
+inside.
+
+Why, I panted for breath, but wouldn't give in. I was determined to use
+Cicely first-rate, and we loved the boy too. But, oh! it was a weary
+love, and a short-winded love, and a hoarse one.
+
+We went to bed tuckered completely out, but good-natured: our love for
+'em held us up. And when we made the estimate, it wuzn't in a cross
+tone, but amiable, and almost winnin'. Josiah thought they went up into
+the trillions. But I am one that never likes to set such things too
+high; and I said calmly, 3,000 and 85. And finally he gin in that mebby
+it wuzn't no more than that.
+
+Cicely told me she couldn't stay with us very long now; for her aunt
+Mary wuz expectin' to go away to the Michigan pretty soon, to see a
+daughter who wus out of health,--had been out of it for some time,--and
+she wanted a visit from her neice Cicely before she went. But she
+promised to come back, and make a good visit on her way home.
+
+And so it was planned. The next day was Sunday, and Cicely wus too tired
+with her journey to go to meetin'. But the boy went. He sot up, lookin'
+beautiful, by the side of me on the back seat of the Democrat; his uncle
+Josiah sot in front; and Ury drove. Ury Henzy, he's our hired man, and
+a tolerable good one, as hired men go. His name is Urias; but we always
+call him Ury,--spelt U-r-y, Ury,--with the emphasis on the U.
+
+Wall, that day Elder Minkly preached. It wus a powerful sermon, about
+the creation of the world, and how man was made, and the fall of Adam,
+and about Noah and the ark, and how the wicked wus destroyed. It wus a
+middlin' powerful sermon; and the boy sot up between Josiah and me, and
+we wus proud enough of him. He had on a little green velvet suit and a
+deep linen collar; and he sot considerable still for him, with his eyes
+on Elder Minkly's face, a thinkin', I guess, how he would put us through
+our catechism on the way home. And, oh! didn't he, didn't he do it? I
+s'pose things seem strange to children, and they can't help askin' about
+'em.
+
+But 4,000 wus the estimate Josiah and me calculated on our pillows that
+night wus the number of questions the boy asked on our way home, about
+the creation, how the world wus made, and the ark--oh, how he harressed
+my poor companion about the animals! “Did they drive 2 of all the
+animals in the world in that house, uncle Josiah?”
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MEETING.]
+
+“Yes,” says Josiah.
+
+“2 elfants, and rinosterhorses, and snakes, and snakes, and bears, and
+tigers, and cows, and camels, and hens?”
+
+“Yes, yes.”
+
+“And flies, uncle Josiah?--did they drive in two flies? and mud-turkles?
+and bumble-bees? and muskeeters? Say, uncle Josiah, did they drive in
+muskeeters?”
+
+“I s'pose so.”
+
+“_How_ could they drive in two muskeeters?”
+
+“Oh! less stop talkin' for a spell--shet up your little mouth,” says
+Josiah in a winnin' tone, pattin' him on his head.
+
+“I can shut up my mouth, uncle Josiah, but I can't shut up my thinker.”
+
+Josiah sithed; and, right while he wus a sithin', the boy commenced agin
+on a new tack.
+
+“What for a lookin' place was paradise?” And then follered 800 questions
+about paradise. Josiah sweat, and offered to let the boy come back, and
+set with me. He had insisted, when we started from the meetin'-house, on
+havin' the boy set on the front seat between him and Ury.
+
+But I demurred about any change, and leaned back, and eat a sweet apple.
+I don't think it is wrong Sundays to eat a sweet apple. And the boy kep'
+on.
+
+“What did Adam fall off of? Did he fall out of the apple-tree?”
+
+“No, no! he fell because he sinned.”
+
+But the boy went right on, in a tone of calm conviction,--
+
+“No big man would be apt to fall a walking right along. He fell out of
+the apple-tree.”
+
+And then he says, after a minute's still thought,--
+
+“I believe, if I had been there, and had a string round Adam's leg, I
+could kep' him from fallin' off;--and say, where was the Lord? Couldn't
+He have kept him? say, couldn't He?”
+
+“Yes: He can do any thing.”
+
+“Wall, then, why didn't He?”
+
+Josiah groaned, low.
+
+“If Adam hadn't fell, I wouldn't have fell, would I?--nor you--nor
+Ury--nor anybody?”
+
+“No: I s'pose not.”
+
+“Wall, wouldn't it have paid to kept Adam up? Say, uncle Josiah, say!”
+
+“Oh! less talk about sunthin' else,” says my poor Josiah. “Don't you
+want a sweet apple?”
+
+“Yes; and say! what kind of a apple was it that Adam eat? Was it a sweet
+apple, or a greening, or a sick-no-further? And say, was it _right_
+for all of us to fall down because Adam did? And how did _I_ sin just
+because a man eat an apple, and fell out of an apple-tree, when I never
+saw the apple, or poked him offen the tree, or joggled him, or any
+thing--when I wasn't there? Say, how was it wrong, uncle Josiah? When I
+wasn't _there!_”
+
+My poor companion, I guess to sort o' pacify him, broke out kinder a
+singin' in a tone full of fag, “'In Adam's fall, we sinned all.'” Josiah
+is sound.
+
+“And be I a sinning now, uncle Josiah? and a falling? And is everybody a
+sinning and a falling jest because that one man eat one apple, and fell
+out of an apple-tree? Say, is it _right_, uncle Josiah, for you and
+me, and everybody that is on the earth, to keep a falling, and keep
+a falling, and bein' blamed, and every thing, when we hadn't done any
+thing, and wasn't _there?_ And _say_, will folks always keep a falling?”
+
+“Yes, if they hain't good.”
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH CLOSING THE CONVERSATION.]
+
+“_How_ can they keep a falling? If Adam fell out of the apple-tree,
+wouldn't he have struck on the ground, and got up agin? And if anybody
+falls, why, why, mustn't they come to the bottom sometime? If there is
+something to fall off of, mustn't there be something to hit against? And
+_say_”--
+
+Here the boy's eyes looked dreamier than they had looked, and further
+off.
+
+“Was I made out of dirt, uncle Josiah?”
+
+“Yes: we are all made out of dust.”
+
+“And did God breathe our souls into us? Was it His own self, His own
+life, that was breathed into us?”
+
+“Yes,” says Josiah, in a more fagged voice than he had used durin' the
+intervue, and more hopelesser.
+
+“Wall, if God is in us, how can He lose us again? Wouldn't it be a
+losing His own self? And how could God lose Himself? And what did He
+find us for, in the first place, if He wus going to lose us again?”
+
+Here Josiah got right up in the Democrat, and lifted the boy, and sot
+him over on the seat with me, and took the lines out of Ury's hands, and
+drove the old mair at a rate that I told him wus shameful on Sunday, for
+a perfessor.
+
+[Illustration: “IT WUS ON A SLAY-RIDE “]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely and the boy staid till Tuesday night. Tuesday afternoon the
+children wus all to home on a invitation. (I had a chicken-pie, and done
+well by 'em.)
+
+And nothin' to do but what Cicely and the boy must go home with 'em:
+they jest think their eyes of Cicely. And I couldn't blame 'em for
+wantin' her, though I hated to give her up.
+
+She laid out to stay a few days, and then come back to our house for a
+day or two, and then go on to her aunt Mary's. But, as it turned out,
+the children urged her so, she stayed most two weeks.
+
+And the very next day but one after Cicely went to the children's--And
+don't it beat all how, if visitors get to comin', they'll keep a comin'?
+jest as it is if you begin to have trials, you'll have lots of 'em, or
+broken dishes, or any thing.
+
+Wall, it wus the very next mornin' but one after Cicely had gone, and
+my voice had actually begun to sound natural agin (the boy had kep' me
+hoarse as a frog answerin' questions). I wus whitewashin' the kitchen,
+havin' put it off while Cicely wus there; and there wus a man to work a
+patchin' up the wall in one of the chambers,--and right there and then,
+Elburtus Smith Gansey come. And truly, we found him as clever a critter
+as ever walked the earth.
+
+It wus jest before korkuss; and he wus kinder visatin' round amongst
+his relations, and makin' himself agreable. He is my 5th cousin,--5th
+or 6th. I can't reely tell which, and I don't know as I care much; for
+I think, that, after you get by the 5th, it hain't much matter anyway. I
+sort o' pile 'em all in promiscous. Jest as it is after anybody gets to
+be 70 years old, it hain't much matter how much older they be: they are
+what you may call old, anyway.
+
+But I think, as I said prior and beforehand, that he wus a 5th. His
+mother wus a Butrick, and her mother wus a Smith. So he come to make us
+a visit, and sort o' ellectioneer round. He wanted to get put in county
+judge; and so, the korkuss bein' held in Jonesville, I s'pose he thought
+he'd come down, and endear himself to us, as they all do.
+
+I am one that likes company first-rate, and I always try to do well by
+'em; but I tell Josiah, that somehow city folks (Elburtus wus brought
+up in a city) are a sort of a bother. They require so much, and give
+you the feelin', that, when you are a doin' your very best for 'em, they
+hain't satisfied. You see, some folks'es best hain't nigh so good as
+other folks'es 3d or 4th.
+
+But this feller--why! I liked him from the first minute I sot my eyes on
+him. I hadn't seen him before sence I wus a child, and so didn't feel so
+awful well acquainted with him; or, that is, I didn't, as it were, feel
+intimate. You know, when you don't see anybody from the time you are
+babies till you are married, and have lost a good many teeth, and
+considerable hair, you can't feel over and above intimate with 'em at
+first sight.
+
+But I liked him, he wus so unassuming and friendly, and took every
+thing so peaceable and pleasant. And he deserved better things than what
+happened to him.
+
+You see, I wus a cleanin' house when he come, cleanin' the kitchen at
+that out-of-the-way time of year on account of Cicely's visit, and on
+account of repairin' that had promised to be done by Josiah Allen, and
+delayed from week to week, and month to month, as is the way with men.
+But finally he had got it done, and I wus ready to the minute with my
+brush and scourin'-cloth.
+
+I wus a whitewashin' when he come, and my pail of whitewash wus hung
+up over the kitchen-door; and I stood up on a table, a whitewashin' the
+ceilin, when I heard a buggy drive up to the door, and stop. And I stood
+still, and listened; and then I heard a awful katouse and rumpus, and
+then I heard hollerin'; and then I heard Josiah's voice, and somebody
+else's voice, a talkin' back and forth, sort o' quick and excited.
+
+Now, some wimmen would have been skairt, and acted skairt; but I didn't.
+I jest stood up on that table, cool and calm as a statue of Repose
+sculped out of marble, and most as white (I wus all covered with
+whitewash), with my brush held easy and firm in my right hand, and my
+left ear a listenin'.
+
+Pretty soon the door opened right by the side of the table, and in come
+Josiah Allen and a strange man. He introduced him to me as Elburtus
+Gansey, my 4th cousin; and I made a handsome curchy. I s'pose, bein' up
+on the table, the curchy showed off to better advantage than it would if
+I had been on the floor: it looked well. But I felt that I ort to shake
+hands with him; and, as I went to step down into a chair to get down
+(entirely unbeknown to me), my brush hit against that pail, and down
+come that pail of whitewash right onto his back. (If it had been his
+head, it would have broke it.)
+
+[Illustration: EXCELLENT LIME.]
+
+I felt as if I should sink. But he took it the best that ever wus. He
+said, when Josiah and me wus a sweepin' him off, and a rubbin' him off
+with wet towels, that “it wusn't no matter at all.” And he spoke up so
+polite and courteous, that “it seemed to be first-rate whitewash: he
+never see better, whiter lime in his life, than that seemed to be.”
+ And then he sort o' felt of it between his thumb and finger, and asked
+Josiah “where did he get that lime, and if they had any more of it. He
+didn't believe they could get such lime outside of Jonesville.” He acted
+like a perfect gentleman.
+
+And he told me, in that same polite, pleasant tone, how Josiah's old
+sheep had knocked him over 3 times while he wus a comin' into the house.
+He said, with that calm, gentle smile, “that no sooner would he get up,
+than he would stand off a little, and then rush at him with his head
+down, and push him right over.”
+
+Says I, “It is a perfect shame and a disgrace,” says I. “And I have
+told you, Josiah Allen, that some stranger would get killed by that old
+creeter; and I should think you would get rid of it.”
+
+“Wall, I lay out to, the first chance I get,” says he.
+
+Elburtus said “it would almost seem to be a pity, it was so strong and
+healthy a sheep.” He said he never met a sheep under any circumstances
+that seemed to have a sounder, stronger constitution. He said of course
+the sheep and he hadn't met under the pleasantest of circumstances, and
+it wusn't over and above pleasant to be knocked down by it three or four
+times; but he had found that he couldn't have every thing as he wanted
+it in this world, and the only way to enjoy ourselves wus to take things
+as they come.
+
+Says I, “I s'pose that wus the way you took the sheep;” and he said, “It
+was.”
+
+And then he went on to say in that amiable way of hisen, “that it
+probably made it a little harder for him jest at that time, as he
+wus struck by lightnin' that mornin'.” (There had been a awful
+thunder-storm.)
+
+Says Josiah, all excitement, “Did it strike you sensible?”
+
+Says I, “You mean senseless, Josiah Allen.”
+
+“Wall, I said so, didn't I? Did it strike you senseless, Mr. Gansey?”
+
+“No,” he said: it only stunted him. And then he went on a praisin' up
+our Jonesville lightnin'. He said it wus about the cleanest, quickest
+lightnin' he ever see. He said he believed we had the smartest lightnin'
+in our county that you could find in the nation.
+
+So good he acted about every thing. It beat all. Why, he hadn't been in
+the house half an hour when he offered to help me whitewash. I told him
+I wouldn't let him, for it would spile his clothes, and he hadn't ever
+been there a visitin' before, and I didn't want to put him to work.
+But he hung on, and nothin' to do but what he had got to take hold and
+whitewash. And I had to give up and let him; for I thought it wus better
+manners to put a visiter to work, than it wus to dispute and quarrel
+with 'em: and, of course, he wasn't used to it, and he filled one eye
+most full of lime. It wus dretful painful, dretful.
+
+But I swabbed it out with viniger, and it got easier about the middle of
+the afternoon. It bein' work that he never done before, the whitewashin'
+looked like fury; but I done it all over after him, and so I got along
+with it, though it belated me. But his offerin' to do it showed his good
+will, anyway.
+
+I shouldn't have done any more at all after Elburtus had come, only I
+had got into the job, and had to finish it; for I always think it is
+better manners, when visitors come unexpected, and ketch you in some
+mean job, to go on and finish it as quick as you can, ruther than to set
+down in the dirt, and let them, ditto, and the same.
+
+And Josiah was ketched jest as I wus, for he had a piece of winter wheat
+that wus spilin' to be cut; and he had got the most of it down, and had
+to finish it: it wus lodged so he had to cut it by hand,--the machine
+wouldn't work on it. And jest as quick as Elburtus had got so he could
+see out of that eye, nothin' to do but what he had got to go out and
+help Josiah cut that wheat. He hadn't touched a scythe for years and
+years, and it wasn't ten minutes before his hands wus blistered on the
+inside. But he would keep at it till the blisters broke, and then he had
+to stop anyway.
+
+He got along quite well after that: only the lot where Josiah wus to
+work run along by old Bobbet'ses, and he had carried a jug of sweetened
+water and viniger and ginger out into the lot, and Elburtus had talked
+so polite and cordial to him, a conversin' on politics, that he got
+attached to him, and treated him to the sweetened water.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS ENDEARIN' HIMSELF TO MR. BOBBET.]
+
+And Elburtus, not wantin' to hurt his feelin's, drinked about 3 quarts.
+It made him deathly sick, for it went aginst his stomach from the first:
+he never loved it. And Miss Bobbet duz fix it dretful sickish,--sweetens
+it with sale mollasses for one thing.
+
+Oh, how sick that feller wus when he come in to supper! had to lay right
+down on the lounge.
+
+Says I, “Elburtus, what made you drink it, when it went aginst your
+stomach?” says I.
+
+“Why,” says he in a faint voice, and pale round his lips as any thing,
+“I didn't want to hurt his feelin's by refusin'.”
+
+Says I, out to one side, “Did you ever, Josiah Allen, see such goodness
+in your life?”
+
+“I never see such dumb foolishness,” says he. “I'd love to have
+anybody ketch me a drinkin' three or four quarts of such stuff out of
+politeness.”
+
+“No,” says I coldly: “you hain't good enough.”
+
+Wall, that night his bed got a fire. It seemed as if every thing under
+the sun wus a goin' to happen to that man while he wus here. You see,
+the house wus all tore up a repairing and I had to put him up-stairs:
+and the bed had been moved out by carpenters, to plaster a spot behind
+the bed; and, unbeknown to me, they had set it too near the stove-pipe.
+And the hot pipe run right up by the side of it, right by the
+bed-clothes. It took fire from the piller-case.
+
+We smelt a dretful smudge, and Josiah run right up-stairs: it had only
+jest ketched a fire, and Elburtus was sound asleep; and Josiah, the
+minute he see what wus the matter, he jest ketched up the water-pitcher,
+and throwed the water over him; and bein' skairt and tremblin', the
+pitcher flew out of his hand, and went too, and hit Elburtus on the end
+of his nose, and took a piece of skin right off.
+
+He waked up sudden; and there he wus, all drownded out, and a piece gone
+off of his nose.
+
+Now, most any other man would have acted mad. Josiah would have acted
+mad as a mad dog, and madder. But you ort to see how good Elburtus took
+it, jest as quick as he got his senses back. Josiah said he could almost
+take his oath that he swore out as cross a oath as he ever heard swore
+the first minute before he got his eyes opened, but I believe he wus
+mistaken. But anyway, the minute his senses come back, and he see where
+he wuz, you ort to see how he behaved. Never, never did I hear of such
+manners in all my born days! Josiah told me all about it.
+
+There Elburtus stood, with his nose a bleedin', and his whiskers singed,
+and a drippin' like a mushrat. But, instead of jawin' or complainin',
+the first thing he said wuz, “What a splendid draft our stove must have,
+or else the stove-pipe wouldn't be so hot!” (I had done some cookin'
+late in the evenin', and left a fire in the stove.)
+
+And he said our stove-wood must be of the very best quality; and he
+asked Josiah where he got it, and if he had to pay any thing extra for
+that kind. He said he'd give any thing if he could get holt of a cord of
+such wood as that!
+
+Josiah said he felt fairly stunted to see such manners; and he went
+to apologisin' about how awful bad it was for him to get his whiskers
+singed so, and how it wus a pure axident his lettin' the pitcher slip
+out of his hand, and he wouldn't have done it for nothin' if he could
+have helped it, and he wus afraid it had hurt him more than he thought
+for.
+
+And such manners as that clever critter showed then! He said he was a
+calculatin' to get his whiskers cut that very day, and it was all for
+the best; he persumed they wus singed off in jest the shape he wanted
+'em: and as for his nose, he wus always ashamed of it; it wus always too
+long, and he should be glad if there wus a piece gone off of it: Josiah
+had done him a favor to help him get rid of a piece of it.
+
+Why, when Josiah told it all over to me after he come down, I told him
+“I believed sunthin' would happen to that man before long. I believed he
+wus too good for earth.”
+
+Josiah can't bear to hear me praise up any mortal man only himself, and
+he muttered sunthin' about “he bet he wouldn't be so tarnel good after
+'lection.”
+
+But I wouldn't hear 110 such talk; and says I,--
+
+“If there wus ever a saint on earth, it is Elburtus Smith Gansey;” and
+says I, “If you try to vote for anybody else, I'll know the reason why.”
+
+“Wall, wall! who said I wus a goin' to? I shall probable vote in the
+family; but he hain't no more saint than I be.”
+
+I gin him a witherin' look; but, as it wus dark as pitch in the room,
+he didn't act withered any. And I spoke out agin, and says I, in a low,
+deep voice,--
+
+“If it wus one of the relations on your side, Josiah Allen, you would
+say he acted dretful good.”
+
+And he says, “There is such a thing, Samantha, as bein' _too_ good--too
+_dumb_ good.”
+
+I didn't multiply any more words with him, and we went to sleep.
+
+Wall, that is jest the way that feller acted for the next five days.
+Why, the neighbors all got to lovin' him so, why, they jest about
+worshipped him. And Josiah said that there wuzn't no use a talkin',
+Elburtus would get the nomination unanimous; for everybody that had
+seen him appear (and he had been all over the town appearing to 'em, and
+endearin' himself to 'em, cleer out beyond Jonesville as far as Spoon
+Settlement and Loontown), why, they jest thought their eyes of him, he
+wus so thoughtful and urbane and helpful. Why, there hain't no tellin'
+how much helpfuler he wuz than common folks, and urbaner.
+
+Why, Josiah and me drove into Jonesville one day towards night; and
+Elburtus had been there all day. Josiah had some cross-gut saws that he
+wanted to get filed, and had happened to mention it before Elburtus; and
+nothin' to do but he must go and carry 'em to the man in Jonesville that
+wus goin' to do it, and help him file 'em. Josiah told him we wus goin'
+over towards night with the team, and could carry 'em as well as not;
+and he hadn't better try to help, filin' saws wus such a sort of a
+raspin' undertakin'. But Elburtus said “he should probably go through
+more raspin' jobs before he died, or got the nomination; and Josiah
+could have 'em to bring home that night.” So he sot out with 'em walkin'
+a foot.
+
+[Illustration: ELBERTUS APPEARIN']
+
+Wall, when we drove in, I see Elburtus a liftin' and a luggin', a
+loadin' a big barrell into a double wagon for a farmer; and I says,--
+
+“What under the sun is Elburtus Gansey a doin'?”
+
+And Josiah says, in a gay tone,--
+
+“He is a electionerin', Samantha: see him sweat,” says he. “Salt is
+heavy, and political life is wearin', when anybody goes into it deep,
+and tackles it in the way Elburtus tackles it.”
+
+He seemed to think it wus a joke; but I says,--
+
+“He is jest a killin' himself, Josiah Allen; and you would set here, and
+see him.”
+
+“I hain't a runnin',” says he in a calm tone.
+
+“No,” says I: “you wouldn't run a step to help anybody. And see there,”
+ says I. “How good, how good that man is!”
+
+Elburtus had finished loadin' the salt, and now he wus a holdin' the
+horses for the man to load some spring-beds. And the horses wus skairt
+by 'em, and wuz jest a liftin' Elburtus right up offen his feet. Why,
+they pranced, and tore, and lifted him up, and switched him round, and
+then they'd set him down with a crash, and whinner.
+
+But that man smiled all the time, and took off his hat, and bowed to me:
+we went by when he wus a swingin' right up in the air. I never see the
+beat of his goodness. Why, we found out afterwards, that, besides filin'
+them saws, he had loaded seven barrells of salt that day, besides other
+heavy truck. That night he wus perfectly beat out--but good.
+
+Josiah said that Philander Dagget'ses wive's brother wouldn't have no
+chance at all. He wanted the nomination awful, and Philander had been
+a workin' for him all he could; and if Elburtus hadn't come down to
+Jonesville, and showed off such a beautiful demeanor and actions, why,
+we all thought that Philander's wive's brother would have got it. And I
+couldn't help feelin' kind o' sorry for him, though highly tickled for
+Elburtus. We both of us, Josiah and me, felt very pleased and extremely
+tickled to think that Elburtus wus so sure of it; for there wus a good
+deal of money in the office, besides honor, sights of honor.
+
+Wall, when the mornin' of town-meetin' came, that critter wus so awful
+clever that nothin' to do but what he must help Josiah do the chores.
+
+And amongst other chores Josiah had to do that mornin', wus to carry
+home a plow that belonged to old Dagget. And old Dagget wanted Josiah,
+when he had got through with it, to carry it to his son Philander's: and
+Philander had left word that he wanted it that mornin'; and he wanted it
+carried down to his lower barn, that stood in a meadow a mile away from
+any house. Philander'ses land run in such a way that he had to build it
+there to store his fodder.
+
+Wall, time run along, and it got time to start for town-meetin', and
+Elburtus couldn't be found. I hollered to him from the back stoop, and
+Josiah went out to the barn and hollered; but nothin' could be seen of
+him. And Josiah got all ready, and waited, and waited; and I told him
+that Elburtus had probable got in such a hurry to get there, that he
+had started on a foot, and he had better drive on, and he would
+overtake him. So finally he did; and he drove along clear to Jonesville,
+expectin' to overtake him every minute, and didn't. And the hull day
+passed off, and no Elburtus. And nobody had seen him. And everybody
+thought it looked so curius in him, a disapearin' as he did, when they
+all knew that he had come down to our part of the county a purpose
+to get the nomination. Why, his disapearin' as he did looked so awful
+strange, that they didn't know what to make of it.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS HOLDING THE HORSES.]
+
+And the opposition side, Philander Daggets'es wive's brother's friends,
+started the story that he wus arrested for stealin' a sheep, and wus
+dragged off to jail that mornin'.
+
+Of course Josiah tried to dispute it; but, as he wus as much in the dark
+as any of 'em as to where he wuz, his disputin' of it didn't amount to
+any thing. And then, Josiah's feelin' so strange about Elburtus made his
+eyes look kinder glassy and strange when they wus talkin' to him about
+it; and they got up the story, so I hearn, that Josiah helped him off
+with the sheep, and wus feelin' like death to have him found out.
+
+And the friends of Philander Daggets'es wive's brother had it all their
+own way, and he wus elected almost unanimous. Wall, Josiah come home
+early, he wus so worried about Elburtus. He thought mebby he had come
+back home after he had got away, and wus took sick sudden. And his first
+words to me wuz,--
+
+“Where is Elburtus? Have you seen Elburtus?”
+
+And then wus my time to be smit and horrow-struck. And the more we got
+to thinkin' about it, the more wonderful did it seem to us, that
+that man had dissapeared right in broad daylight, jest as sudden and
+mysterious as if the ground had opened, and swallowed him down, or as if
+he had spread a pair of wings, and flown up into the sky.
+
+Not that I really thought he had. I couldn't hardly associate the idee
+of heaven and endless repose with a short frock-coat and boots, and
+a blue necktie and a stiff shirt-collar. But, oh! how strange and
+mysterious it did seem to be! We talked it over and over, and we could
+not think of any thing that could happen to him. He knew enough to keep
+out of the creek; and there wasn't no woods nigh where he could get
+lost, and he wus too old to be stole. And so we thought and thought, and
+racked our 2 brains.
+
+And finally I says, “Wall! it hain't happened for several thousand
+years, but I don't know what to think. We read of folks bein' translated
+up to heaven when they get too good for earth, and you know I have told
+you several times that he wus too clever for earth. I have thought he
+wus not of the earth, earthy.”
+
+“And I have thought,” says he, sort o' snappish, “that he wus of
+politics, politicky.”
+
+Says I, “Josiah Allen, I should be afraid, if I wus in your place, to
+talk in that way in such a time as this,” says I. “I have felt, when I
+see his actions when he wus knocked over by that sheep, and covered with
+lime, and sot fire to, I have felt as if we wus entertainin' a angel
+unawares.”
+
+“Yes,” says he, “it _wuz unawares_, entirely _unawares_ to me.”
+
+His axent wus dry, dry as chaff, and as full of ironry as a oven-door or
+flat-iron.
+
+“Wall,” says I, “mebby you will see the time, before the sun rises on
+your bald head again, that you will be sorry for such talk.” Says I, “If
+it wus one of the relation on your side, mebby you would talk different
+about him.” That touched him; and he snapped out,--
+
+“What do you s'pose I care which side he wus on? And I should think it
+wus time to have a little sunthin' to eat: it must be three o'clock if
+it is a minute.”
+
+Says I, “Can you eat, Josiah Allen, in such a time as this?”
+
+“I could if I could _get_ any thing to eat,” says he; “but there don't
+seem to be much prospect of it.”
+
+Says I, “The best thing you can do, Josiah Allen, is to foller his
+tracks. The ground is kinder soft and spongy, and you can do it,” says
+I. “Where did he go to last from here?”
+
+“Down to Philander Daggets'es, to carry home his plow.”
+
+“That angel man!” says I.
+
+“That angel fool!” says Josiah. “Who asked him to go?”
+
+Says I, “When a man gets too good for earth, there is other ways to
+translate him besides chariots of fire. Who knows but what he has fell
+down in a fit! And do you go this minute, Josiah Allen, and foller his
+tracks!”
+
+“I sha'n't foller nobody's tracks, Samantha Allen, till I have sunthin'
+to eat.”
+
+I knew there wuzn't no use of reasonin' no further with him then; for
+when he said Samantha Allen in that axent, I knew he wus as sot as a
+hemlock post, and as hard to move as one. And so my common sense bein'
+so firm and solid, even in such a time as this, I reasoned it right out,
+he wouldn't stir till he had sunthin' to eat, and so the sooner I got
+his supper, the sooner he would go and foller Elburtus'es tracks. So I
+didn't spend no more strength a arguin', but kep' it to hurry up; and
+my reason is such, strong and vigorous and fur-seein', that I knew the
+better supper he had, the more animated would be his search. So I got a
+splendid supper, but quick.
+
+[Illustration: HUNTING FOR ELBURTUS.]
+
+But, oh! all the time I wus a gettin' it, this solemn and awful question
+wus a hantin' me,--What had become of Elburtus Smith Gansey? What had
+become of the relation on my side? Oh, the feelin's I felt! Oh, the
+emotions I carried round with me, from buttery to teakettle, and from
+teapot to table!
+
+But finally, after eatin' longer than it seemed to me he ever eat before
+(such wus my feelin's), Josiah started off acrost the lot, towards
+Daggets'es barn. And I stood in the west door, with my hand over my
+eyes, a watchin' him most every minute he wus gone. And when that man
+come back, he come a laughin'. And I wus that madded, to have him look
+in that sort of a scorfin' way, that I wouldn't say a word to him; and
+he come into the house a laughin', and sot down and crossed his legs a
+laughin', and says he,--
+
+“What do you s'pose has become of the relation on your side?” And says
+he, snickerin' agin,--
+
+“You wus in the right on it, Samantha,--he did asscend: he went up!” And
+agin he snickered loud. And says I coldly, cold as ice almost,--
+
+“If I wuzn't a perfect luny, or idiot, I'd talk as if I knew sunthin'.
+You know I said that, as one who allegores. If you have found Elburtus
+Gansey, I'd say so, and done with it.”
+
+“Wall,” says he, “you _wuz_ in the right of it, and that is what tickles
+me. He got locked up in Dagget's barn. He asscended, jest as I told you.
+He went up the ladder over the hay, to throw down fodder, and got locked
+up _axidental_.” And, as he said “axidental,” he snickered worse than
+ever.
+
+And I says, “It is a mean, miserable, good for nothin', low-lived
+caper! And Philander Dagget done it a purpose to keep Elburtus from the
+town-meetin', so his wive's brother would get the election. And, if
+I wus Elburtus Gansey, I'd sue him, and serve a summons on him, and
+prosicute him.”
+
+“Why,” says Josiah, in the same hilarious axent, and the same scorfin'
+look onto him, “Philander says he never felt so worked up about any
+thing in his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night,
+and found Elburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for
+he wus so afraid that some evil-minded person might say he done it a
+purpose. And he said what made him feel the worst about it wuz to think
+that he should have shut him up axidental when he wus a helpin' so
+good.”
+
+Says I, “The mean, impudent creeter! As good as Elburtus wuz!”
+
+“Wall,” says Josiah, “you know what I told you,--there is such a thing
+as bein' _too_ good.”
+
+I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought up
+and excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, and
+wouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose that
+wus the great trouble with Elburtus,--he wus a leetle _too_ good.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't s'pose Philander had laid any plot
+to keep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he
+had laughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and
+had made a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of
+his wive's brother, and wanted him to get the election.
+
+And I s'pose the idee come to him after Elburtus had got down to the
+barn where he wus a fodderin' his sheep.
+
+You see, if Elburtus had let well enough alone, and not been _too_ good,
+every thing would have gone off right then, but he wouldn't. Nothin' to
+do but he must help Philander get down his fodder. And I s'pose then
+the idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there till
+after 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' a
+axident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. But
+every time he says that word “axident,” he will laugh out so sort o'
+aggravatin'. That is what mads me to this day.
+
+But, as Josiah says, who would have thought that Elburtus would have
+offered to carry that plow home, and throw down the fodder?
+
+But, at any rate, Philander turned the key on him while he wus up
+over-head, and locked him in there for the day. A meaner, low-liveder,
+miserabler caper, I never see nor heard of.
+
+But the way Philander gets out of it (he is a natural liar, and has had
+constant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus
+to work on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone
+out, and gone home; and he locked the door, and went away.
+
+He says (the mean, sneakin', hippocritical creeter!) that he feels like
+death about it, to think it happened so, and on that day too. And he
+says what makes him feel the meanest is, to think it was his wive's
+brother that wus up on the other side, and got the nomination. He says
+it leaves room for talk.
+
+And there it is. You can't sue a man for lockin' his own barn-door. And
+Elburtus wouldn't want it brought into court, anyway; for folks would
+be a wonderin' so what under the sun he wus a prowlin' round for up
+overhead in Philander Daggets'es barn.
+
+So he wus obliged to let the subject drop, and Philander has it all his
+own way. And they say his wive's brother give him ten silver dollars
+for his help. And that is pretty good pay for turnin' one lock, about 2
+seconts' work.
+
+Wall, anyway, that wus the last thing that happened to Elburtus in
+Jonesville; and whether he took it polite and easy, or not, I don't
+know. For that night, when Philander went down to the barn to fodder,
+jest before Josiah went there, and let him out (and acted perfectly
+suprised and horrified at findin' him there, Philander did, so I have
+been told), Elburtus started a bee-line for the depo, and never come
+back here at all; and he left a good new handkerchief, and a shirt, and
+3 paper collars.
+
+And whether he has kep' on a sufferin', or not, I don't know. Mebby he
+had his trials in one batch, as you may say, and is now havin' a spell
+of enjoyments. I am sure, I hope so; for a cleverer, good-natureder,
+polite-appearin'er creeter, _I_ never see, nor don't expect to see agin
+in my life; and so I tell Josiah.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The next evenin' follerin' after the exodus of Elburtus Gansey, Josiah
+and I, thinkin' that we needed a relaxation to relax our two minds, rode
+into Jonesville. We went in the Democrat, at my request; for I wus in
+hopes Cicely would come home with us.
+
+And she did. We had a good ride. I sot in front with Josiah at his
+request; and what made it pleasanter wuz, the boy stood up in the
+Democrat behind me a good deal of the way, with his arms round my neck,
+a kissin' me.
+
+And when I waked up in the mornin', I wus glad to think they wus there.
+Though Cicely wuzn't well: I could see she wuzn't. I felt sad at the
+breakfast-table to see how her fresh young beauty wus bein' blowed away
+by the sharp breath of sorrow's gale.
+
+But she wus sweet and gentle as ever the posy wus we had named her
+after. No Sweet Cicely blow wus ever sweeter and purer than she wuz.
+After I got my work all done up below,--she offerin' to help me, and a
+not lettin' her lift her finger,--I went up into her room, where there
+wus a bright fire on the hearth, and every thing looked cozy and snug.
+
+The boy, havin' wore himself out a harrowin' his uncle Josiah and Ury
+with questions, had laid down on the crimson rug in front of the fire,
+and wus fast asleep, gettin' strength for new labors.
+
+And Cicely sot in a little low rockin'-chair by the side of him. She had
+on a white flannel mornin'-dress, and a thin white zephyr worsted shawl
+round her; and her silky brown hair hung down her back, for she had been
+a brushin' it out; and she looked sweet and pretty enough to kiss; and I
+kissed her right there, before I sot down, or any thing.
+
+And then, thinks'es I as I sot down, we will have a good, quiet visit,
+and talk some about other wimmen. (No runnin' 'em: I'd scorn it, and so
+would she.)
+
+But I thought I'd love to talk it over with her, about what good
+housekeepers Tirzah Ann and Maggie wuz. And I wanted to hear what she
+thought about the babe, and if she could say in cander that she ever see
+a little girl equal her in graces of mind and body.
+
+And I wanted to hear all about her aunt Mary and her aunt Melissa (on
+her father's side). I knew she had had letters from 'em. And I wanted
+to hear how she that was Jane Smith wuz, that lived neighbor to her
+aunt Mary's oldest daughter, and how that oldest daughter wuz, who
+wus s'posed to be a runnin' down. And I wanted to hear about Susan Ann
+Grimshaw, who had married her aunt Melissy's youngest son. There wus
+lots of news that I felt fairly sufferin' for, and lots of news that I
+felt like disseminatin' to her.
+
+But, if you'll believe it, jest as I had begun to inquire, and take
+comfort, she branched right off, a lady-like branch, and a courteous
+one, but still a branch, and begun to talk about “what should she
+do--what could she do--for the boy.”
+
+And she looked down on him as he lay there, with such a boundless love,
+and a awful dread in her eyes, that it was pitiful in the extreme to see
+her; and says she,--
+
+“What will become of him in the future, aunt Samantha, with the laws as
+they are now?”
+
+[Illustration: THE BABY.]
+
+And with such a chin and mouth as he has got, says I to myself, lookin'
+down on him; but I didn't say it out loud. I am too well bread.
+
+“It must be we can get the laws changed before he grows up. I dare not
+trust him in a world that has such temptations, such snares set ready
+for him. Why,” says she--And she fairly trembled as she said it. She
+would always throw her whole soul into any thing she undertook; and in
+this she had throwed her hull heart, too, and her hull life--or so it
+seemed to me, to look at her pale face, and her big, glowin' eyes, full
+of sadness, full of resolve too.
+
+“Why, just think of it! How he will be coaxed into those
+drinking-saloons! how, with his easy, generous, good-natured ways,--and
+I know he will have such ways, and be popular,--a bright, handsome young
+man, and with plenty of money. Just think of it! how, with those open
+saloons on every side of him, when he can't walk down the street without
+those gilded bars shining on every hand; and the friends he will make,
+gay, rich, thoughtless young men like himself--they will laugh at him
+if he refuses to do as they do; and with my boy's inherited tastes and
+temperament, his easiness to be led by those he loves, what will hinder
+him from going to ruin as his poor father did? What will keep him, aunt
+Samantha?”
+
+And she busted out a cryin'.
+
+I says, “Hush, Cicely,” layin' my hand on hern. It wus little and soft,
+and trembled like a leaf. Some folks would have called her nervous and
+excitable; but I didn't, thinkin' what she had went through with the
+boy's father.
+
+Says I, “There is One who is able to save him. And, instead of gettin'
+yourself all worked up over what may never be, I think it would be
+better to ask Him to save the boy.”
+
+“I do ask Him, every day, every hour,” says she, sobbin' quieter like.
+
+“Wall, then, hush up, Cicely.”
+
+And sometimes she would hush up, and sometimes she wouldn't.
+
+But how she would talk about what she wanted to do for him! I heard her
+talkin' to her uncle Josiah one day.
+
+You see, she worried about the boy to that extent, and loved him so,
+that she would have been willin' to have had her head took right off,
+if that would have helped him, if it would have insured him a safe and
+happy future; but it wouldn't: and so she was willin' to do any other
+hard job if there wus any prospect of its helpin' the boy.
+
+She wus willin' to vote on the temperance question.
+
+But Josiah wus more sot than usial that mornin' aginst wimmen's votin';
+and he had begun himself on the subject to Cicely; had talked powerful
+aginst it, but gentle: he loved Cicely as he did his eyes.
+
+He had been to a lecture the night before, to Toad Holler, a little
+place between Jonesville and Loontown. He and uncle Nate Burpy went up
+to hear a speech aginst wimmen's suffrage, in a Democrat.
+
+Josiah said it wus a powerful speech. He said uncle Nate said, “The
+feller that delivered it ort to be President of the United States:” he
+said, “That mind ort to be in the chair.”
+
+And I said I persumed, from what I had heard of it, that his mind wuz
+tired, and ort to set down and rest.
+
+I spoke light, because Josiah Allen acted so high-headed about it. But I
+do s'pose it wus a powerful effort, from what I hearn.
+
+He talked dretful smart, they say, and used big words.
+
+[Illustration: A GREAT EFFORT.]
+
+The young feller that gin the lecture, and his sister, oldest, and she
+set her eyes by him. She had took care of the old folks, supported 'em
+and lifted 'em round herself; took all the care of 'em in every way
+till they died: and then this boy didn't seem to have much faculty for
+gettin' along; so she educated him, sewed for tailors' shops, and got
+money, and sent him to school and college, so he could talk big.
+
+And it was such a comfort to that sister, to sort o' rest off for
+an evenin' from makin' vests and pantaloons, cheap, to furnish him
+money!--it was so sort o' restful to her to set and hear him talk large
+aginst wimmen's suffrage and the weakness and ineficiency of wimmen!
+
+He said, the young chap did, and proved it right out, so they said,
+“that the franchise was too tuckerin' a job for wimmen to tackle, and
+that wimmen hadn't the earnestness and persistency and deep forethought
+to make her valuable as a franchiser--or safe.”
+
+You see, he had his hull strength, the young chap did; for his sister
+had clothed him, as well as boarded him, and educated him: so he could
+talk powerful. He could use up quantities of wind, and not miss it,
+havin' all his strength.
+
+His speech made a deep impression on men and wimmen. His sister bein'
+so wore out, workin' so hard, wept for joy, it was so beautiful, and
+affected her so powerful. And she said “she never realized till that
+minute how weak and useless wimmen really was, and how strong and
+powerful men was.”
+
+It wus a great effort. And she got a extra good supper for him that
+night, I heard, wantin' to repair the waste in his system, caused
+by eloquence. She wus supportin' him till he got a client: he wus a
+studyin' law.
+
+Wall, Josiah wus jest full of his arguments; and he talked 'em over to
+Cicely that mornin'.
+
+But she said, after hearin' 'em all, “that she wus willin' to vote
+on the temperance question. She had thought it all over,” she said.
+“Thought how the nation lay under the curse of African slavery until
+that race of slaves were freed. And she believed, that when women who
+were now in legal bondage, were free to act as their heart and reason
+dictated, that they, who suffered most from intemperance, would be the
+ones to strike the blow that would free the land from the curse.”
+
+Curius that she should feel so, but you couldn't get the idee out of her
+head. She had pondered over it day and night, she said,--pondered over
+it, and prayed over it.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't know as it wus so curius after all,
+when I thought how Paul had ruined himself, and broke her heart, and
+how her money wus bein' used now to keep grog-shops open, four of her
+buildin's rented to liquor-dealers, and she couldn't help herself.
+
+Cicely owned lots of other landed property in the village where she
+lived; and so, of course, her property wus all taxed accordin' to its
+worth. And its bein' the biggest property there, of course it helped
+more than any thing else did to keep the streets smooth and even before
+the saloon-doors, so drunkards could get there easy; and to get new
+street-lamps in front of the saloons and billiard-rooms, so as to make a
+real bright light to draw 'em in and ruin 'em.
+
+There wus a few--the doctor, who knew how rum ruined men's bodies; and
+the minister, he knew how it ruined men's souls--they two, and a few
+others, worked awful hard to get the saloons shut up.
+
+But the executor, who wanted the town to go license, so's he could make
+money, and thinkin' it would be for her interest in the end, hired votes
+with her money. Her money used to hire liquor-votes! So she heard, and
+believed. The idee!
+
+So her money, and his influence, and the influence of low appetites,
+carried the day; and the liquor-traffic won. The men who rented her
+houses, voted for license to a man. Her property used agin to spread the
+evil! She labored with these men with tears in her eyes. And they liked
+her. She was dretful good to 'em. (As I say, she held the things of this
+world with a loose grip.)
+
+They listened to her respectful, stood with their hats in their' hands,
+answerin' her soft, and went soft out of her presence--and voted license
+to a man. You see, they wus all willin' to give her love and courtesy
+and kindness, but not the right to do as her heaven-learnt sense of
+right and wrong wanted her to. She had a fine mind, a pure heart: she
+had been through the highest schools of the land, and that higher,
+heavenly school of sufferin', where God is the teacher, and had
+graduated from 'em with her lofty purposes refined and made luminous
+with some thin' like the light of Heaven.
+
+But those men--many of 'em who did not know a letter of the alphabet,
+whose naturally dull minds had become more stupified by habitual
+vice--those men, who wus her inferiors, and her servants in every thing
+else, wus each one of 'em her king here, and she his slave: and they
+compelled her to obey their lower wills.
+
+Wall, Cicely didn't think it wus right. Curius she should think so, some
+folks thought, but she did.
+
+But all this that wore on her wus as nothin' to what she felt about the
+boy,--her fears for his future. “What could she do--what _could_ she do
+for the boy, to make it safer for him in the future?”
+
+And I had jest this one answer, that I'd say over and over agin to
+her,--
+
+“Cicely, you can pray! That is all that wimmen can do. And try to
+influence him right now. God can take care of the boy.”
+
+“But I can't keep him with me always; and other influences will come,
+and beat mine down. And I have prayed, but God don't hear my prayer.”
+
+And I'd say, calm and soothin', “How do you know, Cicely?”
+
+And she says, “Why, how I prayed for help when my poor Paul went down to
+ruin, through the open door of a grog-shop! If the women of the land had
+it in their power to do what their hearts dictate,--what the poorest,
+lowest _man_ has the right to do,--every saloon, every low grog-shop,
+would be closed.”
+
+She said this to Josiah the mornin' after the lecture I speak of. He sot
+there, seemin'ly perusin' the almanac; but he spoke up then, and says,--
+
+“You can't shet up human nater, Cicely: that will jump out any way. As
+the poet says, 'Nater will caper.'”
+
+But Cicely went right on, with her eyes a shinin', and a red spot in her
+white cheeks that I didn't like to see.
+
+“A thousand temptations that surround my boy now, could be removed, a
+thousand low influences changed into better, helpful ones. There are
+drunkards who long, who pray, to have temptations removed out of their
+way,--those who are trying to reform, and who dare not pass the door of
+a saloon, the very smell of the liquor crazing them with the desire for
+drink. They want help, they pray to be saved; and we who are praying to
+help them are powerless. What if, in the future, my boy should be like
+one of them,--weak, tempted, longing for help, and getting nothing but
+help towards vice and ruin? Haven't mothers a right to help those
+they love in _every_ way,--by prayer, by influence, by legal right and
+might?”
+
+“It would be a dangerous experiment, Cicely,” says Josiah, crossin' his
+right leg over his left, and turnin' the almanac to another month. “It
+seems to me sunthin' unwomanly, sunthin' aginst nater. It is turnin'
+the laws of nater right round. It is perilous to the domestic nature of
+wimmen.”
+
+“I don't think so,” says I. “Don't you remember, Josiah Allen, how
+you worried about them hens that we carried to the fair? They wus so
+handsome, and such good layers, that I really wanted the influence of
+them hens to spread abroad. I wanted otherfolks to know about 'em, so's
+to have some like 'em. But you worried awfully. You wus so afraid that
+carryin' the hens into the turmoil of public life would have a tendency
+to keep 'em from wantin' to make nests and hatch chickens! But it
+didn't. Good land! one of 'em made a nest right there, in the coop to
+the fair, with the crowd a shoutin' round 'em, and laid two eggs. You
+can't break up nature's laws; _they_ are laid too deep and strong for
+any hammer we can get holt of to touch 'em; all the nations and empires
+of the world can't move 'em round a notch.
+
+“A true woman's deepest love and desire are for her home and her loved
+ones, and planted right in by the side of these two loves of hern is a
+deathless instinct and desire to protect and save them from danger.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S HENS.]
+
+“Good land! I never heard a old hen called out of her spear, and
+unhenly, because she would fly out at a hawk, and cackle loud, and
+cluck, and try to lead her chickens off into safety. And while the
+rooster is a steppin' high, and struttin' round, and lookin' surprised
+and injured, it is the old hen that saves the chickens, nine times out
+of ten.
+
+“It is against the evil hawks,--men-hawks,--that are ready to settle
+down, and tear the young and innocent out of the home nest, that
+wimmen are tryin' to defend their children from. And men may talk about
+wimmen's gettin' too excited and zealous; but they don't cluck and
+cackle half so loud as the old hen does, or flutter round half so
+earnest and fierce.
+
+“And the chicken-hawk hain't to be compared for danger to the men-hawks
+Cicely is tryin' to save her boy from. And I say it is domestic love
+in her to want to protect him, and tenderness, and nature, and grace,
+and--and--every thing.”
+
+I wus wrought up, and felt deeply, and couldn't express half what I
+felt, and didn't much care if I couldn't. I wus so rousted up, I felt
+fairly reckless about carin' whether Josiah or anybody understood me
+or not. I knew the Lord understood me, and I knew what I felt in my own
+mind, and I didn't much care for any thing else. Wimmen do have such
+spells. They get fairly wore out a tryin' to express what they feel in
+their souls to a gain-sayin' world, and have that world yell out at 'em,
+“Unwomanly! unwomanly!” I say, Cicely wuzn't unwomanly. I say, that,
+from the very depths of her lovin' little soul, she wus pure womanly,
+affectionate, earnest, tender-hearted, good; and, if anybody tells me
+she wuzn't, I'll know the reason why.
+
+But, while I wus a reveryin' this, my Josiah spoke out agin', and
+says,--
+
+“Influence the world through your child, Cicely! influence him, and let
+him influence the world. Let him make the world better and purer by your
+influencein' it through him.”
+
+“Why not use that influence _now, myself_? I have it here right in my
+heart, all that I could hope to teach to my boy, at the best. And why
+wait, and set my hopes of influencing the world through him, when a
+thousand things may happen to weaken that influence, and death and
+change may destroy it? Why, my one great fear and dread is, that my
+boy will be led away by other, stronger influences than mine,--the
+temptations that have overthrown so many other children of prayer--how
+dare I hope that my boy will withstand them? And death may claim him
+before he could bear my influence to the world. Why not use it now,
+myself, to help him, and other mothers' boys? If it is, as you say, an
+experiment, why not let mothers try it? It could not do any harm; and it
+would ease our poor, anxious hearts some, to make the effort, even if
+it proved useless. No one can have a deeper interest in the children's
+welfare than their mothers. Would they be apt to do any thing to harm
+them?”
+
+And then I spoke up, entirely unbeknown to myself, and says,--
+
+“Selfishness has had its way for years and years in politics, and now
+why not let unselfishness have it for a change? For, Josiah Allen,” says
+I firmly, “you know, and I know, that, if there is any unselfishness in
+this selfish world, it is in the heart of a mother.”
+
+“It would be apt to be dangerous,” says Josiah, crossin' his left leg
+over his right one, and turnin' to a new month in the almanac. “It would
+most likely be apt to be.”
+
+“_Why_?” says Cicely. “Why is it dangerous? Why is it wrong for a women
+to try to help them she would die for? Yes,” says she solemnly, “I would
+die for Paul any time if I knew it would smooth his pathway, make it
+easier for him to be a good man.”
+
+“Wall, you see, Cicely,” says Josiah in a soft tone,--his love for her
+softenin' and smoothin' out his axent till it sounded almost foolish and
+meachin',--“you see, it would be dangerous for wimmen to vote, because
+votin' would be apt to lower wimmen in the opinion of us men and the
+public generally. In fact, it would be apt to lower wimmen down to
+mingle in a lower class. And it would gaul me dretfully,” says Josiah,
+turnin' to me, “to have our sweet Cicely lower herself into a lower
+grade of society: it would cut me like a knife.”
+
+And then I spoke right up, for I can't stand too much foolishness at one
+time from man or woman; and I says,--
+
+“I'd love to have you speak up, Josiah Allen, and tell me how wimmen
+would go to work to get any lower in the opinion of men; how they could
+get into any lower grade of society than they are minglin' with now.
+They are ranked now by the laws of the United States, and the will of
+men, with idiots, lunatics, and criminals. And how pretty it looks for
+you men to try to scare us, and make us think there is a lower class we
+could get into! _There hain't any lower class that we can get into_ than
+the ones we are in now; and you know it, Josiah Allen. And you sha'n't
+scare Cicely by tryin' to make her think there is.”
+
+He quailed. He knew there wuzn't. He knew he had said it to scare us,
+Cicely and me, and he felt considerable meachin' to think he had got
+found out in it. But he went on in ruther of a meek tone,--
+
+“It would be apt to make talk, Cicely.”
+
+“What do I care for talk?” says she. “What do I care for honor, or
+praise, or blame? I only want to try to save my boy.”
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND HER PEERS.]
+
+And she kep' right on with her tender, earnest voice, and her eyes a
+shinin' like stars,--
+
+“Have I not a right to help him? Is he not _my_ child? Did not God give
+me a _right_ to him, when I went down into the darkness with God alone,
+and a soul was given into my hands? Did I not suffer for him? Have I not
+been blessed in him? Why, his little hands held me back from the gates
+of death. By all the rights of heavenliest joy and deepest agony--is he
+not _mine_? Have I not a _right_ to help him in his future?
+
+“Now I hold him in my arms, my flesh, my blood, my life. I hold him on
+my heart now: he is _mine_. I can shield him from danger: if he should
+fall into the flames, I could reach in after him, and die with him, or
+save him. God and man give me that right now: I do not have to ask for
+it.
+
+“But in a few years he will go out from me, carrying my own life with
+him, my heart will go with him, to joy or to death. He will go out into
+dangers a thousand-fold worse than death,--dangers made respectable and
+legal,--and I can't help him.
+
+“_I_ his mother, who would die for him any hour--I must stand with my
+eyes open, but my hands bound, and see him rushing headlong into flames
+tenfold hotter than fire; see him on the brink of earthly and eternal
+ruin, and can't reach out my hand to hold him back. My _boy!_ My _own!_
+Is it right? Is it just?”
+
+And she got up, and walked the room back and forth, and says,--
+
+“How can I bear the thought of it? How can I live and endure it? And how
+can I die, and leave the boy?”
+
+And her eyes looked so big and bright, and that spot of red would look
+so bright on her white cheeks, that I would get skairt. And I'd try to
+sooth her down, and talk gentle to her. And I says,--
+
+“All things are possible with God, and you must wait and hope.”
+
+But she says, “What will hope do for me when my boy is lost? I want to
+save him now.”
+
+It did beat all, as I told Josiah, out to one side, to see such hefty
+principles and emotions in such a little body. Why, she didn't weigh
+much over 90, if she did any.
+
+And Josiah whispered back, “All women hain't like Cicely.”
+
+And I says in the same low, deep tones, “All men hain't like George
+Washington! Now get me a pail of water.”
+
+And he went out. But it did beat all, how that little thing, when she
+stood ready, seemin'ly, to tackle the nation--I've seen her jump up in a
+chair, afraid of a mice. The idee of anybody bein' afraid of a mice, and
+ready to tackle the Constitution!
+
+And she'd blush up red as a rosy if a stranger would speak to her. But
+she would fight the hull nation for her boy.
+
+And I'd try to sooth her (for that red spot on her cheeks skairt me, and
+I foreboded about her). I said to her after Josiah went out, a holdin'
+her little hot hands in mine,--for sometimes her hands would be hot and
+feverish, and then, agin, like two snowflakes,--
+
+“Cicely, women's voting on intemperance would, as your uncle Josiah
+says, be a experiment. I candidly think and believe that it would be
+a good thing,--a blessin' to the youth of the land, a comfort to the
+females, and no harm to the males. But, after all, we don't know what it
+would do”--
+
+“I _know_” says she. And her eyes had such a far-off, prophetic look in
+'em, that I declare for't, if I didn't almost think she _did_ know. I
+says to myself,--
+
+“She's so sweet and unselfish and good, that I believe she's more than
+half-ways into heaven now. The Holy Scriptures, that I believe in, says,
+'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' And it don't
+say where they shall see Him, or when. And it don't say that the light
+that fell from on high upon the blessed mother of our Lord, shall never
+fall again on other heart-broken mothers, on other pure souls beloved of
+Him.”
+
+And it is the honest truth, that it would not have surprised me much
+sometimes, as she wus settin' in the twilight with the boy in her arms,
+if I had seen a halo round her head; and so I told Josiah one night,
+after she had been a settin' there a holdin' the boy, and a singin' low
+to him,--
+
+  “'A charge to keep I have,--
+    A God to glorify;
+  A never-dying soul to save,
+    And fit it for the sky.'”
+
+It wuzn't _her_ soul she wus a thinkin' of, I knew. She didn't think of
+herself: she never did.
+
+And after she went to bed, I mentioned the halo. And Josiah asked what
+that was. And I told him it was “the inner glory that shines out from a
+pure soul, and crowns a holy life.”
+
+And he said “he s'posed it was some sort of a headdress. Wimmen was so
+full of new names, he thought it was some new kind of a crowfar.”
+
+I knew what he meant. He didn't mean crowfar, he meant _crowfure_. That
+is French. But I wouldn't hurt his feelin's by correctin' him; for I
+thought “fur” or “fure,” it didn't make much of any difference.
+
+[Illustration: “A CHARGE TO KEEP I HAVE.”]
+
+Wall, the very next day, when Josiah came from Jonesville,--he had been
+to mill,--he brought Cicely a letter from her aunt Mary. She wanted
+her to come on at once; for her daughter, who wus a runnin' down, wus
+supposed to be a runnin' faster than she had run. And her aunt Mary
+was goin' to start for the Michigan very soon,--as soon as she got well
+enough: she wasn't feelin' well when she wrote. And she wanted Cicely to
+come at once.
+
+So she went the next day, but promised that jest as quick as she got
+through visitin' her aunt and her other relations there, she would come
+back here.
+
+So she went; and I missed her dretfully, and should have missed her more
+if it hadn't been for the state my companion returned in after he had
+carried Cicely to the train.
+
+He come home rampant with a new idee. All wrought up about goin' into
+politics. He broached the subject to me before he onharnessed, hitchin'
+the old mair for the purpose. He wanted to be United-States senator. He
+said he thought the nation needed him.
+
+“Needs you for what?” says I coldly, cold as a ice suckle.
+
+“Why, it needs somebody it can lean on, and it needs somebody that can
+lean. I am a popular man,” says he. “And if I can help the nation, I
+will be glad to do it; and if the nation can help me, I am willin'. The
+change from Jonesville to Washington will be agreeable and relaxin', and
+I lay out to try it.”
+
+Says I, in sarkastick tones, “It is a pity you hain't got your free pass
+to go on:--you remember that incident, don't you, Josiah Allen?”
+
+“What of it?” he snapped out. “What if I do?”
+
+“Wall, I thought then, that, when you got high-headed and haughty on any
+subject agin, mebby you would remember that pass, and be more modest and
+unassuming.”
+
+He riz right up, and hollered at me,--
+
+“Throw that pass in my face, will you, at this time of year?”
+
+And he started for the barn, almost on the run.
+
+But I didn't care. I wus bound to break up this idee of hisen at once.
+If I hadn't been, I shouldn't have mentioned the free pass to him. For
+it is a subject so gaulin' to him, that I never allude to it only in
+cases of extreme danger and peril, or uncommon high-headedness.
+
+Now I have mentioned it, I don't know but it will be expected of me to
+tell about this pass of hisen. But, if I do, it mustn't go no further;
+for Josiah would be mad, mad as a hen, if he knew I told about it.
+
+I will relate the history in another epistol.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+This free pass of Josiah Allen's wus indeed a strange incident, and it
+made sights and sights of talk.
+
+But of course there wus considerable lyin' about it, as you know the way
+is. Why, it does beat all how stories will grow.
+
+Why, when I hear a story nowadays, I always allow a full half for
+shrinkage, and sometimes three-quarters; and a good many times that
+hain't enough. Such awful lyin' times! It duz beat all.
+
+But about this strange thing that took place and happened, I will
+proceed and relate the plain and unvarnished history of it. And what I
+set down in this epistol, you can depend upon. It is the plain truth,
+entirely unvarnished: not a mite of varnish will there be on it.
+
+A little over two years ago Josiah Allen, my companion, had a
+opportunity to buy a wood-lot cheap. It wus about a mild and a half from
+here, and one side of the lot run along by the side of the railroad. A
+Irishman had owned it previous and prior to this time, and had built a
+little shanty on it, and a pig-pen. But times got hard, the pig died,
+and owing to that, and other financikal difficulties, the Irishman had
+to sell the place, “ten acres more or less, runnin' up to a stake, and
+back again,” as the law directs.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH'S WOOD-LOT.]
+
+Wall, he beset my companion Josiah to buy it; and as he had plenty of
+money in the Jonesville bank to pay for it, and the wood on our wood-lot
+wus gettin' pretty well thinned out, I didn't make no objection to the
+enterprize, but, on the other hand, I encouraged him in it. And so he
+made the bargain with him, the deed wus made out, the Irishman paid. And
+Josiah put a lot of wood-choppers in there to work; and they cut, and
+drawed the wood to Jonesville, and made money. Made more than enough the
+first six months to pay for the expenditure and outlay of money for the
+lot.
+
+He did well. And he calculated to do still better; for he said the place
+bein' so near Jonesville, he laid out, after he had got the wood off,
+and sold it, and kep' what he wanted, he calculated and laid out to sell
+the place for twice what he give for it. Josiah Allen hain't nobody's
+fool in a bargain, a good deal of the time he hain't. He knows how to
+make good calculations a good deal of the time. He thought somebody
+would want the place to build on.
+
+Wall, I asked him one day what he laid out to do with the shanty and
+the pig-pen that wus on it. The pig-pen wus right by the side of the
+railroad-track.
+
+And he said he laid out to tear 'em down, and draw the lumber home: he
+said the boards would come handy to use about the premises.
+
+Wall, I told him I thought that would be a good plan, or words to that
+effect. I can't remember the exact words I used, not expectin' that I
+would ever have to remember back, and lay 'em to heart. Which I should
+not had it not been for the strange and singular things that occurred
+and took place afterwards.
+
+Then I asked my companion, if I remember rightly, “When he laid out
+to draw the boards home?” For I mistrusted there would be some planks
+amongst 'em, and I wanted a couple to lay down from the back-door to the
+pump. The old ones wus gettin' all cracked up and broke in spots.
+
+And he said he should draw 'em up the first day he could spare the team.
+Wall, this wus along in the first week in April that we had this talk:
+warm and pleasant the weather wus, exceedingly so, for the time of year.
+And I proposed to him that we should have the children come home on the
+8th of April, which wus Thomas J.'s birthday, and have as nice a dinner
+as we could get, and buy a handsome present for him. And Josiah was very
+agreeable to the idee (for when did a man ever look scornfully on the
+idee of a good dinner?).
+
+And so the next day I went to work, and cooked up every thing I could
+think of that would be good. I made cakes of all kinds, and tarts, and
+jellys. And I wus goin' to have spring lamb and a chicken-pie (a layer
+of chicken, and a layer of oysters. I can make a chicken-pie that will
+melt in your mouth, though I am fur from bein' the one that ort to say
+it); and I wus goin' to have a baked fowl, and vegetables of all kinds,
+and every thing else I could think of that wus good. And I baked a large
+plum-cake a purpose for Whitfield, with “Our Son” on it in big red sugar
+letters, and the dates of his birth and the present date on each side of
+it.
+
+I do well by the children, Josiah says I do; and they see it now, the
+children do; they see it plainer every day, they say they do. They say,
+that since they have gone out into the world more, and seen more of the
+coldness and selfishness of the world, they appreciate more and more the
+faithful affection of her whose name wus once Smith.
+
+Yes, they like me better and better every year, they say they do.
+And they treat me pretty, dretful pretty. I don't want to be treated
+prettier by anybody than the children treat me.
+
+And their affectionate devotion pays me, it pays me richly, for all the
+care and anxiety they caused me. There hain't no paymaster like Love: he
+pays the best wages, and the most satisfyin', of anybody I ever see. But
+I am a eppisodin', and to resoom and continue on.
+
+Wall! the dinner passed off perfectly delightful and agreeable. The
+children and Josiah eat as if--Wall, suffice it to say, the way they eat
+wus a great compliment to the cook, and I took it so.
+
+Thomas J. wus highly delighted with his presents. I got him a nice white
+willow rockin'-chair, with red ribbons run all round the back, and bows
+of the same on top, and a red cushion,--a soft feather cushion that I
+made myself for it, covered with crimson rep (wool goods, very nice).
+Why, the cushion cost me above 60 cents, besides my work and the
+feathers.
+
+Josiah proposed to get him a acordeun, but I talked him out of that; and
+then he wanted to get him a bright blue necktie. But I perswaided him
+to give him a handsome china coffee cup and saucer, with “To My Son”
+ painted on it; and I urged him to give him that, with ten new silver
+dollars in it. Says I, “He is all the son you have got, and a good son.”
+ And Josiah consented after a parlay. Why, the chair I give him cost
+about as much as that; and it wuzn't none too good, not at all.
+
+Wall, he had a lovely day. And what made it pleasanter, we had a
+prospect of havin' another jest as good. For in about 2 months' time it
+would be Tirzah's Ann's birthday; and we both told her, Josiah and me,
+both did, that she must get ready for jest another such a time. For we
+laid out to treat 'em both alike (which is both Christian and common
+sense). And we told 'em they must all be ready to come home that day,
+Providence and the weather permittin'.
+
+Wall, it wus so awful pleasant when the children got ready to go home,
+that Josiah proposed that he and me should go along to Jonesville with
+'em, and carry little Samantha Joe. And I wus very agreeable to the
+idee, bein' a little tired, and thinkin' such a ride would be both
+restful and refreshin'.
+
+And, oh! how beautiful every thing looked as we rode along! The sun wus
+goin' down in glory; and Jonesville layin' to the west of us, we seemed
+to be a ridin' along right into that glory--right towards them golden
+palaces, and towers of splendor, that riz up from the sea of gold. And
+behind them shinin' towers wus shadowy mountain ranges of softest color,
+that melted up into the tender blue of the April sky. And right in the
+east a full moon wuz sailin', lookin' down tenderly on Josiah and me and
+the babe--and Jonesville and the world. And the comet sot there up in
+the sky like a silent and shinin' mystery.
+
+The babe's eyes looked big and dreamy and thoughtful. She has got the
+beautifulest eyes, little Samantha Joe has. You can look down deep into
+'em, and see yourself in 'em; but, beyond yourself, what is it you can
+see? I can't tell, nor nobody. The ellusive, wonderful beauty that lays
+in the innocent baby eyes of little Samantha Joe. The sweet, fur-off
+look, as if she wus a lookin' right through this world into a fairer and
+more peaceful one.
+
+[Illustration: GOD'S COMMA.]
+
+And how smart they be, who can answer their questioning,--questionin'
+about every thing. Nobody can't--Josiah can't, nor I, nor nobody. Pretty
+soon she looked up at the comet; and says she, “Nama,”--she can't say
+grandma,--“Nama, is that God's comma?”
+
+Now, jest see how deep that wuz, and beautiful, very. The heavens wuz
+full of the writin' of God, writin' we can't read yet, and translate
+into our coarser language; and she, with her deep, beautiful eyes,
+a readin' it jest as plain as print, and puttin' in all the marks of
+punctuation. Readin' the marvellous poem of glory, with its tremblin'
+pause of flame.
+
+Josiah says, it is because she couldn't say comet; but I know better.
+Says I, “Josiah Allen, hain't it the same shape as a comma?”
+
+And he had to gin it up that it was. And in a minute or two she says
+agin,--
+
+“Nama, what is the comma up there for?”
+
+Now hear that, how deep that wuz. Who could answer that question? I
+couldn't, nor Josiah couldn't. Nor the wisest philosopher that
+ever walked the earth, not one of 'em. From them that kept their
+night-watches on the newly built pyramids, to the astronimers of to-day
+who are spending their lives in the study of the heavens. If every one
+of them learned men of the world, livin' and dead, if they all stood in
+rows in our door-yard in front of little Samantha Joe, they would have
+to bow their haughty heads before her, and put their finger on their
+lips. Them lips could say very large words in every language under the
+sun; but they couldn't answer my baby's question, not one of 'em.
+
+But I am eppisodin' fearfully, fearfully; and to resoom.
+
+We left the children and the babe safe in their respective housen', and
+happy; and we went on placidly to Jonesville, got our usual groceries,
+and stopped to the post-office. Josiah went into the office, and come
+out with his “World,” and one letter, a big letter with a blue envelope.
+I thought it had a sort of a queer look, but I didn't say nothin'. And
+it bein' sort o' darkish, he didn't try to open it till we got home.
+Only I says,--
+
+“Who do you s'pose your letter is from, Josiah Allen?”
+
+And he says, “I don't know: the postmaster had a awful time a tryin' to
+make out who it was to. I should think, by his tell, it wus the dumbdest
+writin' that ever wus seen. I should think, by his tell, it went ahead
+of yourn.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “there is no need of your swearin'.” Says I, “If I wus
+a grandfather, Josiah Allen, I would choose my words with a little more
+decency, not to say morality.”
+
+“Wall, wall! your writin' is enough to make a man sweat, and you know
+it.”
+
+“I hadn't disputed it,” says I with dignity. And havin' laid the blame
+of the bad writin' of the letter he had got, off onto his companion, as
+the way of male pardners is, he felt easy and comfortable in his mind,
+and talked agreeable all the way home, and affectionate, some.
+
+Wall, we got home; and I lit a light, and fixed the fire so it burnt
+bright and clear. And I drawed up a stand in front of the fire, with
+a bright crimson spread on it, for the lamp; and I put Josiah's
+rockin'-chair and mine, one on each side of it; and put Josiah's
+slippers in front of the hearth to warm. And then I took my
+knittin'-work, and went to knittin'; and by that time Josiah had got his
+barn-chores all done, and come in.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH READING THE LETTER.]
+
+And the very first thing he did after he come in, and drawed off his
+boots, and wondered “why under the gracious heavens it was, that the
+bootjack never could be found where he had left it” (which was right in
+the middle of the settin'-room floor). But he found it hangin' up in
+its usual place in the closet, only a coat had got hung up over it so he
+couldn't see it for half a minute.
+
+And after he had his warm slippers on, and got sot down in his
+easy-chair opposite to his beloved companion, he grew calmer again, and
+more placider, and drawed out that letter from his pocket.
+
+And I sot there a knittin', and a watchin' my companion's face at the
+same time; and I see that as he read the letter, he looked smut, and
+sort o' wonder-struck: and says I,--
+
+“Who is your letter from, Josiah Allen?”
+
+And he says, lookin' up on top of it,--
+
+“It is from the headquarters of the Railroad Company;” and says he,
+lookin' close at it agin, “As near as I can make out, it is a free pass
+for me to ride on the railroad.”
+
+Says I, “Why, that can't be, Josiah Allen. Why should they give you a
+free pass?”
+
+“I don't know,” says he. “But I know it is one. The more I look at it,”
+ says he, growin' excited over it,--“the more I look at it, the plainer I
+can see it. It is a free pass.”
+
+Says I, “I don't believe it, Josiah Allen.”
+
+“Wall, look at it for yourself, Samantha Allen” (when he is dretful
+excited, he always calls me Samantha Allen), “and see what it is, if it
+hain't that;” and he throwed it into my lap.
+
+[Illustration: COPY OF THE LETTER: FREE PASS.]
+
+I looked at it close and severe, but not one word could I make out, only
+I thought I could partly make out the word “remove,” and along down
+the sheet the word “place,” and there wus one word that did look like
+“free.” And Josiah jumped at them words; and says he,--
+
+“It means, you know, the pass reads like this, for me to remove myself
+from place to place, free. Don't you see through it?” says he.
+
+“No,” says I, holdin' the paper up to the light. “No, I don't see
+through it, far from it.”
+
+“Wall,” says he, highly excited and tickled, “I'll try it to-morrow,
+anyway. I'll see whether I am in the right, or not.”
+
+And he went on dreamily, “Lemme see--I have got to move that lumber in
+the mornin' up from my wood-lot. But it won't take me more'n a couple of
+hours, or so, and in the afternoon I'll take a start.”
+
+Says I, “What under the sun, Josiah Allen, should the Railroad Company
+give you a free pass for?”
+
+“Wall,” says he, “I have my thoughts.”
+
+He spoke in a dretful sort of a mysterious way, but proud; and I says,--
+
+“What do you think is the reason, Josiah Allen?”
+
+And he says, “It hain't always best to tell what you think. I hain't
+obleeged to,” says he.
+
+And I says, “No. As the poet saith, nobody hain't obleeged to use common
+sense unless they have got it;” and I says, in a meanin' tone, “No, I
+can't obleege you to tell me.”
+
+Wall, sure enough, the next day, jest as quick as he got that lumber
+drawed up to the house, Josiah Allen dressed up, and sot off for
+Jonesville, and come home at night as tickled a man as I ever see, if
+not tickleder.
+
+And he says, “Now what do you think, Samantha Allen? Now what do you
+think about my ridin' on that pass?”
+
+And I says, “Have you rode on it, Josiah Allen?”
+
+And he says, “Yes, mom, I have. I have rode to Loontown and back; and I
+might have gone ten times as fur, and not a word been said.”
+
+And I says, “What did the conductor say?”
+
+And he says, “He didn't say nothin'. When he asked me for my fare, I
+told him I had a free pass, and I showed it to him. And he took it, and
+looked at it close, and took out his specks, and looked and looked at it
+for a number of minutes; and then he handed it back to me, and I put it
+into my pocket; and that wus all there was of it.”
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING DUBERSOME.]
+
+Says I, “How did the conductor look when he was a readin' it?”
+
+And he owned up that he looked dubersome. But, says he, “I rode on it,
+and I told you that I could.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, sithin', “there is a great mystery about it.”
+
+Says he, “There hain't no mystery to me.”
+
+And then I beset him agin to tell me what he thought the reason wus they
+give it to him.
+
+And he said “he thought it was because he was so smart.” Says he, “I am
+a dumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as
+plain as I wanted to.” And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder
+every minute,--
+
+“I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car
+on the track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable and
+dressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose the
+railroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took the
+right way to do it. I shall speak well of 'em as long as I can ride
+free. And, oh! what solid comfort I shall take, Samantha, a ridin' on
+that pass! I calculate to see the world now. And there is nothin' under
+the sun to hender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of
+such a influential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you
+to go a mopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the
+future on my free pass.”
+
+“No,” says I. “I sha'n't ride off on a mystery. I prefer a mare.”
+
+Says he, for he wus that proud and excited that you couldn't stop him
+nohow,--
+
+“It will be a dretful savin' of money, but that hain't what I think of
+the most. It is the honor they are a heapin' onto me. To think that they
+think so much of me, set such a store by me, and look up to me so, that
+they send me a free pass without my makin' a move to ask for it. Why, it
+shows plain, Samantha, that I am one of the first men of the age.”
+
+And so he would go on from hour to hour, and from day to day; and I wus
+that dumbfoundered and wonderin' about it, that I couldn't for my life
+tell what to think of it. It worried me.
+
+But from that day Josiah Allen rode on that pass, every chance he got.
+Why, he went to the Ohio on it, on a visit to his first wive's sister;
+and he went to Michigan on it, and to the South, and everywhere he could
+think of. Why, he fairly hunted up relations on it, and I told him so.
+
+And after he got 'em hunted up, he'd take them onto that pass, and ride
+round with 'em on it.
+
+And he told every one of 'em, he told everybody, that he thought as much
+agin of the honor as he did of the money. It showed that he wus thought
+so much of, not only in Jonesville, but the world at large.
+
+Why, he took such solid comfort in it, that it did honestly seem as
+if he grew fat, he wus so puffed up by it, and proud. And some of the
+neighbors that he boasted so before, wus eat up with envy, and seemed
+mad to think he had come to such honor, and they hadn't. But the
+madder they acted, the tickleder he seemed, and more prouder, and
+high-headeder.
+
+But I could not feel so. I felt that there wus sunthin' strange and
+curius about it. And it wus very, very seldom that Josiah could get me
+to ride on it. Though I did take a few short journeys on it, to please
+him. But I felt sort o' uneasy while I was a ridin' on it, same as you
+feel when you are goin' up-hill with a heavy load and a little horse.
+You kinder stand on your feet, and lean forward, as if your bein'
+oncomfortable, and standin' up, helped the horse some.
+
+I had a good deal of that restless feelin', and oneasy. And as I told
+Josiah time and time again, “that for stiddy ridin' I preferred a mare
+to a mystery.”
+
+Wall, it run along for a year; and Josiah said he s'posed he'd have to
+write on, and get the pass renewed. As near as he could make out, it
+run out about the 4th day of April. So he wrote down to the head one in
+New-York village; and the answer came back by return mail, and wrote in
+plain writin' so we could read it.
+
+It seemed there wus a mistake. It wuzn't a free pass, it wus a order for
+Josiah Allen to remove a pig-pen from his place on the railroad-track
+within three days.
+
+There it wuz, a order to remove a nuisence; and Josiah Allen had been a
+ridin' on it for a year, with pride in his mean, and haughtiness in his
+demeanor.
+
+Wall, I never see a man more mortified and cut up than Josiah Allen
+wuz. If he hadn't boasted so over its bein' gin to him on account of his
+bein' so smart and popular and etcetery, he wouldn't have felt so cut
+up. But as it was, it bowed down his bald head into the dust (allegory).
+
+But he didn't stay bowed down for any length of time: truly, men are
+constituted in such a way that mortification don't show on 'em for any
+length of time.
+
+But it made sights and sights of talk in Jonesville. The Jonesvillians
+made sights and sights of fun of him, poked fun at him, and snickered. I
+myself didn't say much: it hain't my way. I merely says this: says I,--
+
+“You thought you wus so awful popular, Josiah Allen, mebby you won't go
+round with so haughty a mean onto you right away.”
+
+“Throw my mean in my face if you want to,” says he. “But I guess,” says
+he, “it will learn 'em another time to take a little more pains with
+their duck's tracks, dumb 'em!”
+
+Says I, “Stop instantly.” And he knew what I meant, and stopped.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AND HIS RELATIONS ON THE PASS.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Josiah is as kind-hearted a man as was ever made. And he loves me with
+a devotion, that though hidden sometimes, like volcanic fires, and other
+married men's affections for their wives, yet it bursts out occasionally
+in spurts and jets of unexpected tenderness.
+
+Now, the very next mornin' after Cicely left for her aunt Mary's, he
+gave me a flaming proof of that hidden fire that burns but don't consume
+him.
+
+A agent come to our dwelling, and with the bland and amiable air of
+their sect, asked me,--
+
+“If I would buy a encyclopedia?”
+
+I was favorable to the idee, and showed it by my looks and words; but
+Josiah wus awful set against it. And the more favorable I talked about
+it, the more horrow-struck and skairt Josiah Allen looked. And finally
+he got behind the agent, and winked at me, and made motions for me to
+foller him into the buttery. He wunk several times before I paid much
+attention to 'em; but finally, the winks grew so violent, and the
+motions so imperious, yet clever, that I got up, and follered him into
+the buttery. He shet the door, and stood with his back against it; and
+says to me, with his voice fairly tremblin' with his emotions,--
+
+“It will throw you, Samantha! you don't want to buy it.”
+
+“What will throw me? and when?” says I.
+
+“Why,” says he, “you can't never ride it! How should I feel to see you
+on one of 'em! It skairs me most to death to see a boy ride 'em; and at
+your age, and with your rheumatiz, you'd get throwed, and get your neck
+broke, the first day.” Says he, “If you have got to have something
+more stylish, and new-fangled than the old mair, I'd ruther buy you a
+philosopher. They are easier-going than a encyclopedia, anyway.”
+
+“A philosopher?” says I dreamily.
+
+“Yes, such a one as Tom Gowdey has got.”
+
+Says I, “You mean a velocipede!”
+
+“Yes, and I'll get you one ruther than have you a ridin' round the
+country on a encyclopedia.”
+
+His tender thoughtfulness touched my heart, and I explained to him all
+about 'em. He thought it was some kind of a bycicle. And he brightened
+up, and didn't make no objections to my gettin' one.
+
+Wall, that very afternoon he went to Jonesville, and come home, as I
+said, all rousted up about bein' a senator. I s'pose Elburtus'es bein'
+there, and talkin' so much on politics, had kinder sot him to thinkin'
+on it. Anyway, he come home from Jonesville perfectly rampant with the
+idee of bein' United-States senator. “He said he had been approached on
+the subject.”
+
+He said it in that sort of a haughty, high-headed way, such as men will
+sometimes assume when they think they have had some high honors heaped
+onto 'em.
+
+Says I, “Who has approached you, Josiah Allen?”
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING APPROACHED.]
+
+“Wall,” he said, “it might be a foreign minister, and it might be uncle
+Nate Gowdey.” He thought it wouldn't be best to tell who it was. “But,”
+ says he, “I am bound to be senator. Josiah Allen, M.C., will probable be
+wrote on my letters before another fall. I am bound to run.”
+
+Says I coldly, “You know you can't run. You are as lame as you can be.
+You have got the rheumatiz the worst kind.”
+
+Says he, “I mean runnin' with political legs--and I do want to be a
+senator, Samantha. I want to, like a dog, I want the money there is in
+it, and I want the honor. You know they have elected me path-master,
+but I hain't a goin' to accept it. I tell you, when anybody gets into
+political life, ambition rousts up in 'em: path-master don't satisfy
+me. I want to be senator: I want to, like a dog. And I don't lay out to
+tackle the job as Elburtus did, and act too good.”
+
+“No!” says I sternly. “There hain't no danger of your bein' too good.”
+
+“No: I have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. The relation on your
+side was too willin', and too clever. And witnessin' his campaign has
+learnt me some deep lessons. I watched the rocks he hit aginst; and I
+have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. I am going to act offish.
+I feel that offishness is my strong holt--and endearin' myself to the
+masses. Educatin' public sentiment up to lovin' me, and urgin' me not to
+be so offish, and to obleege 'em by takin' a office--them is my 2 strong
+holts. If I can only hang back, and act onwillin', and get the masses
+fierce to elect me--why, I'm made. And then, I've got a plan in my
+head.”
+
+I groaned, in spite of myself.
+
+“I have got a plan in my head, that, if every other plan fails, will
+elect me in spite of the old Harry.”
+
+Oh! how that oath grated against my nerve! And how I hung back from this
+idee! I am one that looks ahead. And I says in firm tones,--
+
+“You never would get the nomination, Josiah Allen! And if you did, you
+never would be elected.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I should!” says he. But he continued dreamily, “There would
+have to be considerable wire-pullin'.”
+
+“Where would the wires be?” says I sternly. “And who would pull 'em?”
+
+“Oh, most anywhere!” says he, lookin' dreamily up onto the kitchen
+ceilin', as if wires wus liable to be let down anywhere through the
+plasterin'.
+
+Says I, “Should you have to go to pullin' wires?”
+
+“Of course I should,” says he.
+
+“Wall,” says I, “you may as well make up your mind in the first ont,
+that I hain't goin' to give my consent to have you go into any thing
+dangerous. I hain't goin' to have you break your neck, at your age.”
+
+Says he, “I don't know but my age is as good a age to break my neck in
+as any other. I never sot any particular age to break my neck in.”
+
+“Make fun all you are a mind to of a anxious Samantha,” says I, “but
+I will never give my consent to have you plunge into such dangerous
+enterprizes. And talkin' about pullin' wires sounds dangerous: it sounds
+like a circus, somehow; and how would _you_, with your back, look and
+feel performin' like a circus?”
+
+“Oh, you don't understand, Samantha! the wires hain't pulled in that
+way. You don't pull 'em with your hands, you pull 'em with your minds.”
+
+“Oh, wall!” says I, brightenin' up. “You are all right in that case: you
+won't pull hard enough to hurt you any.”
+
+I knew the size and strength of his mind, jest as well as if I had took
+it out of his head, and weighed it on the steelyards. It was _not_ over
+and above large. I knew it; and he knew that I knew it, because I have
+had to sometimes, in the cause of Right, remind him of it. But he knows
+that my love for him towers up like a dromedary, and moves off through
+life as stately as she duz--the dromedary. Josiah was my choice out of a
+world full of men. I love Josiah Allen. But to resoom and continue on.
+
+Josiah says, “Which side had I better go on, Samantha?” Says he, kinder
+puttin' his head on one side, and lookin' shrewdly up at the stove-pipe,
+“Would you run as a Stalwart, or a Half-breed?”
+
+Says I, “I guess you would run more like a lame hen than a Stalwart or
+a Half-breed; or,” says I, “it would depend on what breeds they wuz. If
+they wus half snails, and half Times in the primers, maybe you could get
+ahead of 'em.”
+
+“I should think, Samantha Allen, in such a time as this, you would act
+like a rational bein'. I'll be hanged if I know what side to go on to
+get elected!”
+
+Says I, “Josiah Allen, hain't you got any principle? Don't you _know_
+what side you are on?”
+
+“Why, yes, I s'pose I know as near as men in gineral. I'm a Democrat in
+times of peace. But it is human nater, to want to be on the side that
+beats.”
+
+I sithed, and murmured instinctively, “George Washington!”
+
+“George Granny!” says he.
+
+I sithed agin, and kep' sithin'.
+
+Says I, “It is bad enough, Josiah Allen, to have you talk about runnin'
+for senator, and pullin' wires, and etcetery. But, oh, oh! my agony to
+think my partner is destitute of principle.”
+
+“I have got as much as most political men, and you'll find it out so,
+Samantha.”
+
+My groans touched his heart--that man loves me.
+
+“I am goin' to work as they all do. But wimmen hain't no heads for
+business, and I always said so. They don't look out for the profits of
+things, as men do.”
+
+I didn't say nothin' only my sithes, but they spoke volumes to any one
+who understood their language. But anon, or mebby before,--I hadn't kep'
+any particular account of time, but I think it wus about anon,--when
+another thought struck me so, right in my breast, that it most knocked
+me over. It hanted me all the rest of that day: and all that night I lay
+awake and worried, and I'd sithe, and sposen the case; and then I'd turn
+over, and sposen the case, and sithe.
+
+Sposen he would be elected--I didn't really think he would, but
+I couldn't for my life help sposen. Sposen he would have to go to
+Washington. I knew strange things took place in politics. Strange men
+run, and run fur: some on 'em run clear to Washington. Mebby he would.
+Oh! how I groaned at the idee!
+
+I thought of the awfulness of that place as I had heard it described
+upon to me; and then I thought of the weakness of men, and their
+liability to be led astray. I thought of the powerful blasts of
+temptation that blowed through them broad streets, and the small size of
+my pardner, and the light weight of his bones and principles.
+
+And I felt, if things wuz as they had been depictered to me, he
+would (in a moral sense) be lifted right up, and blowed away--bones,
+principles, and all. And I trembled.
+
+At last the idee knocked so firm aginst the door of my heart, that I had
+to let it in. That I _must_, I _must_ go to Washington, as a forerunner
+of Josiah. I must go ahead of him, and look round, and see if my Josiah
+could pass through with no smell of fire on his overcoat--if there wuz
+any possibility of it. If there wuz, why, I should stand still, and let
+things take their course. But if my worst apprehensions wuz realized,
+if I see that it was a place where my pardner would lose all the modest
+worth and winnin' qualities that first endeared him to me--why, I would
+come home, and throw all my powerful influence and weight into the
+scales, and turn 'em round.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING BLOWN AWAY.]
+
+Of course, I felt that I should have to make some pretext about goin':
+for though I wus as innocent as a babe of wantin' to do so, I felt that
+he would think he wus bein' domineered over by me. Men are so sort o'
+high-headed and haughty about some things! But I felt I could make a
+pretext of George Washington. That dear old martyr! I felt truly I would
+love to weep upon his tomb.
+
+And so I told Josiah the next mornin', for I thought I would tackle the
+subject at once. And he says,--
+
+“What do you want to weep on his tomb for, Samantha, at this late day?”
+
+Says I, “The day of love and gratitude never fades into night, Josiah
+Allen: the sun of gratitude never goes down; it shines on that tomb
+to-day jest as bright as it did in 1800.”
+
+“Wall, wall! go and weep on it if you want to. But I'll bet half a cent
+that you'll cry onto the ice-house, as I've heard of other wimmen's
+doin'. Wimmen don't see into things as men do.”
+
+“You needn't worry, Josiah Allen. I shall cry at the right time, and in
+the right place. And I think I had better start soon on my tower.”
+
+I always was one to tackle hard jobs immejutly and to once, so's to get
+'em offen' my mind.
+
+“Wall, I'd like to know,” says he, in an injured tone, “what you
+calculate to do with me while you are gone?”
+
+“Why,” says I, “I'll have the girl Ury is engaged to, come here and do
+the chores, and work for herself; they are goin' to be married before
+long: and I'll give her some rolls, and let her spin some yarn for
+herself. She'll be glad to come.”
+
+“How long do you s'pose you'll be gone? She hain't no cook. I'd as lives
+eat rolls, as to eat her fried cakes.”
+
+“Your pardner will fry up 2 pans full before she goes, Josiah; and I
+don't s'pose I'll be gone over four days.”
+
+“Oh, well! then I guess I can stand it. But you had better make some
+mince-pies ahead, and other kinds of pies, and some fruit-cake, and
+cookies, and tarts, and things: it is always best to be on the safe
+side, in vittles.”
+
+So it wus agreed on,--that I should fill two cubbard shelves full of
+provisions, to help him endure my absence.
+
+I wus some in hopes that he might give up the idee of bein'
+United-States senator, and I might have rest from my tower; for I
+dreaded, oh, how I dreaded, the job! But as day by day passed, he grew
+more and more rampant with the idee. He talked about it all the time
+daytimes; and in the night I could hear him murmur to himself,--
+
+“Hon. Josiah Allen!”
+
+And once I see it in his account-book, “Old Peedick debtor to two
+sap-buckets to Hon. Josiah Allen.”
+
+And he talked sights, and sights, about what he wus goin' to do when
+he got to Washington, D.C.--what great things he wus goin' to do. And I
+would get wore out, and say to him,--
+
+“Wall! you will have to get there first.”
+
+“Oh! you needn't worry. I can get there easy enough. I s'pose I shall
+have to work hard jest as they all do. But as I told you before,
+if every thing else fails, I have got a grand plan to fall back
+on--sunthin' new and uneek. Josiah Allen is nobody's fool, and the
+nation will find it out so.”
+
+Then, oh, how I urged him to tell his plan to his lovin' pardner! but he
+_wouldn't tell_.
+
+But hours and hours would he spend, a tellin' me what great things he
+wus goin' to do when he got to Washington.
+
+Says he, “There is one thing about it. When I get to be United-States
+senator, uncle Nate Gowdey shall be promoted to some high and
+responsible place.”
+
+“Without thinkin' whether he is fit for it or not?” says I.
+
+“Yes, mom, without thinkin' a thing about it. I am bound to help the
+ones that help me.”
+
+“You wouldn't have him examined,” says I,--“wouldn't have him asked no
+questions?”
+
+“Oh, yes! I'd have him pass a examination jest as the New-York aldermen
+do, or the civil-service men. I'd say to him, 'Be you uncle Nate
+Gowdey?'
+
+“'Yes.'
+
+“'How long have you been uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+
+“And he'd answer; and I'd say,--
+
+“'How long do you calculate to be uncle Nate?'
+
+“And he'll tell; and then I'll say,--
+
+“'Enough: I see you have all the qualifications for office. You are
+admitted.' That is what I would do.”
+
+I groaned. But he kep' on complacently, “I am goin' to help the ones
+that elect me, sink or swim; and I calculate to make money out of the
+project,--money and honor. And I shall do a big work there,--there
+hain't no doubt of it.
+
+“Now, there is political economy. I shall go in strong for that. I shall
+say right to Congress, the first speech I make to it, I shall say, that
+there is too much money spent now to hire votes with; and I shall prove
+it right out, that we can get votes cheaper if we senators all join in
+together, and put our feet right down that we won't pay only jest so
+much for a vote. But as long as one man is willin' to pay high, why,
+everybody else has got to foller suit. And there hain't no economy in
+it, not a mite.
+
+“Then, there is the canal question. I'll make a thorough end of that.
+There is one reform that will be pushed right through.”
+
+“How will you do it?” says I.
+
+“I will have the hull canal cleaned out from one end to the other.”
+
+“I was readin' only yesterday,” says I, “about the corruption of the
+canal question. But I didn't s'pose it meant that.”
+
+“That is because you hain't a man. You hain't got the mind to grasp
+these big questions. The corruption of the canal means that the bottom
+of the canal is all covered with dead cats and things; and it ort to be
+seen to, by men that is capable of seein' to such things. It ort to be
+cleaned out. And I am the man that has got the mind for it,” says he
+proudly.
+
+“Then, there is the Star Route. Nothin' but foolishness from beginnin'
+to end. They might have known they couldn't make any road through the
+stars. Why, the very Bible is agin it. The ground is good enough for me,
+and for any other solid man. It is some visionary chap that begun it in
+the first place. Nothin' but dumb foolishness; and so uncle Nate Gowdey
+said it was. We got to talkin' about it yesterday, and he said it was a
+pity wimmin couldn't vote on it. He said that would be jest about what
+they would be likely to vote for.
+
+“He is a smart old feller, uncle Nate is, for a man of his age. He
+talked awful smart about wimmin's votin'. He said any man was a fool to
+think that a woman would ever have the requisit grasp of intellect,
+and the knowledge of public affairs, that would render her a competent
+voter.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH's STAR ROUTE.]
+
+“I tell you, you have got to _understand_ things in order to tackle
+politicks. Politicks takes deep study.
+
+“Now, there is the tariff question, and the revenue. I shall most
+probable favor 'em, and push 'em right through.”
+
+“How?” says I.
+
+“Oh, wall! a woman most probable couldn't understand it. But I shall
+push 'em forward all I can, and lift 'em up.”
+
+“Where to?” says I.
+
+“Oh, keep a askin', and a naggin'! That is what wears out us public
+men,--wimmin's questionin'. It hain't so much the public duties we
+have to perform that ages us, and wears us out before our time,--it is
+woman's weak curiosity on public topics, that her mind is too feeble to
+grasp holt of. It is wearin',” says he haughtily.
+
+Says I, “Specially when they don't know what to answer.” Says I, “Josiah
+Allen, you don't know this minute what tariff means, or revenue.”
+
+“Wall, I know what starvation means, and I know what vittles means, and
+I know I am as hungry as a bear.”
+
+Instinctively I hung on the teakettle. And as Josiah see me pare the
+potatoes, and grind the coffee, and pound the steak, he grew very
+pleasant again in his demeanor; and says he,--
+
+“There will be some abuses reformed when I get to Washington, D.C.;
+and you and the nation will see that there will. Now, there is the
+civil-service law: Uncle Nate and I wus a talkin' about it yesterday. It
+is jest what we need. Why, as uncle Nate said, hired men hain't civil at
+all, nor hired girls either. You hire 'em to serve you, and to serve you
+civil; and they are jest as dumb uppish and impudent as they can be. And
+hotel-clerks--now, they don't know what civil-service means.”
+
+“Why, uncle Nate said when he went to the Ohio, last fall, he stayed
+over night to Cleveland, and the hotel-clerk sassed him, jest because he
+wanted to blow out his light: he wanted uncle Nate to turn it off.
+
+“And uncle Nate jest spoke right up, smart as a whip, and said,
+'Old-fashioned ways was good enough for him: blows wus made before
+turners, and he should blow it out.' And the hotel-clerk sassed him, and
+swore, and threatened to make him leave.
+
+“And ruther than have a fuss, uncle Nate said he turned it out. But it
+rankled, uncle Nate says it did, it rankled deep. And he says he wants
+to vote for that special. He says he'd love to make that clerk eat
+humble-pie.
+
+“Uncle Nate is a sound man: his head is level.
+
+“And good, sound platforms, that is another reform, uncle Nate said we
+needed the worst kind, and he hoped I would insist on it when I got to
+be senator. He said there was too much talk about 'em in the papers, and
+too little done about 'em. Why, Elam Gowdey, uncle Nate's youngest boy,
+broke down the platform to his barn, and went right down through it,
+with a load of hay. And nothin' but that hay saved his neck from bein'
+broke. It spilte one of his horses.
+
+“Uncle Nate had been urgin' him to fix the platform, or build a new one;
+but he was slack. But, as uncle Nate says, if such things are run by
+law, they will _have_ to be done.
+
+“And then, there is another thing uncle Nate and I was talkin'
+about,” says he, lookin' very amiable at me as I rolled out my cream
+biscuit--almost spooney.
+
+[Illustration: UNCIVIL SERVICE.]
+
+“I shall jest run every poor Irishman and Chinaman out of the country
+that I can.”
+
+“What has the Irishmen done, Josiah Allen?” says I.
+
+“Oh! they are poor. There hain't no use in our associatin' with the
+poor.”
+
+Says I dreamily, “Did I not read once, of One who renounced the throne
+of the universe to dwell amongst the poor?”
+
+“Oh, wall! most probable they wuzn't Irish.”
+
+“And what has the Chinaman done?” says I.
+
+“Why, they are heathens, Samantha. What does the United States want with
+heathens anyway? What the country _needs_ is Methodists.”
+
+“Somewhere did I not once hear these words,” says I musin'ly, as I
+set the coffee-cups on the table,--“'You shall have the heathen for an
+inheritance'--and 'preach the gospel to the heathen'--and 'we who were
+sometime heathens, but have received light'? Did not the echo of some
+such words once reach my mind?”
+
+“Oh, wall! if you are goin' to quote readin', why can't you quote from
+'The World'? you can't combine Bible and politics worth a cent. And the
+Chinaman works too cheap--are too industrious, and reasonable in their
+charges, they hain't extravagant--and they are too dumb peacible, dumb
+'em!”
+
+“Josiah Allen!” says I firmly, “is that all the fault you find with
+'em?”
+
+“No, it hain't. They don't want to vote! They don't care a cent about
+bein' path-master or President. And I say, that after givin' a man a
+fair trial and a long one, if he won't try to buy or sell a vote, it is
+a sure sign that he can't asimulate with Americans, and be one with 'em;
+that he can't never be mingled in with 'em peacible. And I'll bet that
+I'll start the Catholics out--and the Jews. What under the sun is the
+use of havin' anybody here in America only jest Methodists? That is the
+only right way. And if I have my way, I'll get rid of 'em,--Chinamen,
+Irishmen, Catholics,--the hull caboodle of 'em. I'll jest light 'em out
+of the country. We can do it too. That big statute in New-York Harbor
+of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, will jest lift her torch up high, and
+light 'em out of the country:--that is what we had her for.”
+
+I sithed low, and says, “I never knew that wus what she wus there for.
+I s'posed it wus a gift from a land that helped us to liberty and
+prosperity when we needed 'em as bad as the Irishmen and Chinamen do
+to-day; and I s'posed that torch that wus lit for us by others' help, we
+should be willin' and glad to have it shine on the dark cross-roads of
+others.”
+
+“Wall, it hain't meant for no such purpose: it is to light up _our_ land
+and _our_ waters. That's what _she's_ there for.”
+
+I sithed agin, a sort of a cold sithe, and says,--
+
+“I don't think it looks very well for us New-Englanders a sittin' round
+Plymouth Rock, to be a condemnin' anybody for their religeous beliefs.”
+
+“Wall, there hain't no need of whittlin' out a stick, and worshipin' it,
+as the Chinamen do.”
+
+“How are you goin' to help 'em to worship the true God if you send 'em
+out of the country? Is it for the sake of humanity you drive 'em out?
+or be you, like the Isrealites of old, a worshipin' the golden calf of
+selfishness, Josiah Allen?”
+
+“I hain't never worshiped _no calf_, Samantha Allen. That would be the
+last thing _I_ would worship, and you know it.”
+
+(Josiah wus very lame on his left leg where he had been kicked by a
+yearlin'. The spot wus black and blue, but healin'.)
+
+“You have blanketed that calf with thick patriotic excuses; but I fear,
+Josiah Allen, that the calf is there.
+
+“Oh!” says I dreamily, “how the tread of them calves has moved down
+through the centuries! If every calf should amble right out, marked with
+its own name and the name of its owner, what a sight, what a sight it
+would be! On one calf, right after its owner's name, would be branded,
+'Worldly Honor and Fame.'”
+
+Josiah squirmed, for I see him, but tried to turn the squirm in' into a
+sickly smile; and he murmured in a meachin' voice, and with a sheepish
+smile,--
+
+“'Hon. Josiah Allen. Fame.' That wouldn't look so bad on a likely
+yearlin' or two-year old.”
+
+But I kep' right on. “On another would be marked, 'Wealth.' Very yeller
+those calves would be, and a long, long drove of 'em.
+
+“On another would be, 'Earthly Love.' Middlin' good-lookin' calves,
+these, and sights of 'em. But the mantillys that covered 'em would be
+all wet and wore with tears.
+
+“'Culture,' 'Intellect,' 'Refinement.' These calves would march right
+along by the side of 'Pride,' 'Vanity,' 'Old Creeds,' 'Bigotry,'
+'Selfishness.' The last-named would be too numerous to count with the
+naked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right through
+meetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why,” says I, “the ground trembles
+under the tread of them calves. I can hear 'em whinner,” says I, fillin'
+up the coffee-pot.
+
+“Calves don't whinner!” says Josiah.
+
+Says I, “I speak parabolickly;” and says I, in a very blind way,
+“Parables are used to fit the truth to weak comprehensions.”
+
+“Wall!” says he, kinder cross, “your potatoes are a burnin' down.”
+
+I turned the water off, and mashed 'em up, with plenty of cream and
+butter; and them, applied to his stomach internally, seemed to sooth
+him,--them, and the nice tender steak, and light biscuit, and lemon
+puddin' and coffee, rich and yellow and fragrant.
+
+[Illustration: THE GOLDEN CALVES OF CHRISTIANS.]
+
+He never said a word more about politics till after dinner. But on
+risin' up from the table he told me he had got to go to Jonesville to
+get the old mare shod. And I see sadly, as he stood to the lookin'-glass
+combin' out his few hairs, how every by-path his mind sot out on led up
+gradually to Washington, D.C. For as he stood there, and spoke of the
+mare's feet, he says,--
+
+“The mare is good enough for Jonesville, Samantha. But when we get
+to Washington, we want sunthin' gayer, more stylish, to ride on.
+I calculate,” says he, pullin' up his collar, and pullin' down his
+vest,--“I lay out to dress gay, and act gay. I calculate to make a show
+for once in my life, and put on style. One thing I am bound on,--I shall
+drive tantrum.”
+
+“How?” says I sternly.
+
+“Why, I shall buy another mare, most probable some gay-colored one, and
+hitch it before the old white mare, and drive tantrum. You know, it
+is all the style. Mebby,” says he dreamily, “I shall ride the drag.
+I s'pose that is fashionable. But I'll be hanged if I should think
+it would be easy ridin' unless you had the teeth down. Dog-carts are
+stylish, I hear; but our dog is so dumb lazy, you couldn't get him to go
+out of a walk. But tantrum I _will_ drive.”
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH DRIVING TANTRUM.]
+
+I groaned, and says, “Yes, I hain't no doubt that anybody that sees you
+at Washington, will see tantrums, strange tantrums. But you hain't there
+yet.”
+
+“No, but I most probable shall be ere long.”
+
+He had actually begun to talk in high-flown, blank verse sort of a way.
+“Ere long!” that wus somethin' new for Josiah Allen.
+
+Alas! every thought of his heart wus tuned to that one political key.
+I mentioned to him that “the bobbin to my sewin'-machine was broke, and
+asked him to get a new one of the agent at Jonesville.”
+
+“Yes,” says he benignantly, “I will tend to your machine; and speakin'
+of machines, that makes me think of another thing uncle Nate and I wus
+talkin' about.”
+
+“Machine politics, I sha'n't favor 'em. What under the sun do they want
+machines to make politics with, when there is plenty of men willin', and
+more than willin', to make 'em? And it is as expensive agin. Machines
+cost so much. I tell you, they cost tarnation high.”
+
+“I can understand you without swearin', Josiah Allen.”
+
+“I hain't a swearin': 'tarnation' hain't swearin', nor never wuz. I
+shall use that word most likely in Washington, D.C.”
+
+“Wall,” says I coldly, “there will have to be some tea and sugar got.”
+
+He did not demur. But, oh! how I see that immovible setness of his mind!
+
+“Yes, I will get some. But won't it be handy, Samantha, to have free
+trade? I shall go for that strong. Why, I can tell you, it will come
+handy along in the winter when the hens don't lay, and we don't make
+butter to turn off--it will come dretful handy to jest hitch up the
+mare, and go to the store, and come home with a lot of groceries of all
+kinds, and some fresh meat mebby. And mebby some neckties of different
+colors.”
+
+“Who would pay for 'em?” says I in a stern tone; for I didn't somehow
+like the idee.
+
+“Why, the Government, of course.”
+
+I shook my head 2 or 3 times back and forth. I couldn't seem to get the
+right sense of it. “I can't understand it, Josiah. We heard a good deal
+about free trade, but I can't believe that is it.”
+
+“Wall, it is, jest that. Free trade is one of the prerequisits of
+a senator. Why, what would a man want to be a senator for, if they
+couldn't make by it?”
+
+“Don't you love your country, Josiah Allen?”
+
+“Yes, I do: but I don't love her so well as I do myself; it hain't
+nateral I should.”
+
+“Surely I read long ago,--was it in the English Reader?” says I
+dreamily, “or where was it? But surely I have heard of such things as
+patriotism and honor, love of country, and love of the right.”
+
+“Wall, I calculate I love my country jest as well as the next man; and,”
+ says he firmly, “I calculate I can make jest as much out of her, give me
+a chance. Why, I calculate to do jest as they all do. What is the use of
+startin' up, and bein' one by yourself?”
+
+Says I, “That is what Pilate thought, Josiah Allen.” Says I, “The
+majority hain't always right.” Says I firmly, “They hardly ever are.”
+
+“Now, that is a regular woman's idee,” says he, goin' into the bedroom
+for a clean shirt. And as he opened the bureau-draw, he says,--
+
+“Another thing I shall go for, is abolishin' lots of the bureaus. Why,
+what is the use of any man havin' more than one bureau? It is nothin'
+but nonsense clutterin' up the house with so many bureaus.
+
+“When wimmen get to votin',” says he sarcastickly, “I'll bet their first
+move will be to get 'em back agin. I'll bet there hain't a women in the
+land, but what would love to have 20 bureaus that they could run to.”
+
+“Then, you think wimmen _will_ vote, do you, Josiah Allen?”
+
+“I think,” says he firmly, “that it will be a wretched day for the
+nation if she does. Wimmen is good in their places,” says he, as he come
+to me to button up his shirtsleeves, and tie his cravat.
+
+“They are good in their places. But they can't have, it hain't in 'em to
+have, the calm grasp of mind, the deep outlook into the future, that men
+have. They can't weigh things in the firm, careful balences of right and
+wrong, and have that deep, masterly knowledge of national affairs that
+we men have. They hain't got the hard horse sense that anybody has got
+to have in order to make money out of the nation. They would have some
+sentimental subjects up of right or wrong to spend their energies and
+their hearts on. Look at Cicely, now. She means well. But what would she
+do? What would she make out of votin'? Not a cent. And she never would
+think of passin' laws for her own personal comfort, either. Now, there
+is the subsidy bill. I'll see that through if I sweat for it.
+
+“Why, it would be worth more than a dollar-bill to me lots of times to
+make folks subside. Preachers, now, when they get to goin' beyond the
+20ethly. No preacher has any right to go to wanderin' round up beyond
+them figures in dog-days. And if they could be made to subside when they
+had gone fur enough, why, it would be a perfect boon to Jonesville and
+the nation.
+
+“And sewin'-machine agents--and--and wimmen, when they get all excited a
+scoldin', or talkin' about bonnets, and things. Why! if a man could jest
+lift up his hand, and say 'Subside!' and then see 'em subside--why, I
+had ruther see it than a circus any day.”
+
+[Illustration: A WOMAN'S PLACE.]
+
+I looked at him keenly, and says I,--
+
+“I wish such a bill had even now passed; that is, if wimmen could
+receive any benefit from it.”
+
+“Wall, you'll see it after I get to Washington, D.C., most probable. I
+calculate to jest straighten out things there, and get public affairs in
+a good runnin' order. The nation _needs_ me.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, wore out, “it can _have you_, as fur as I am concerned.”
+
+And I wus so completely fagged out, that I turned the subject completely
+round (as I s'posed) by askin' him if he laid out to sell our apples
+this year where he did last. The man's wife had wrote to me ahead, and
+wanted to know, for they had bought a new dryin'-machine, and wanted to
+make sure of apples ahead.
+
+“Wall,” says Josiah, drawin' on his overshoes, “I shall probable have to
+use the apples this fall to buy votes with.”
+
+“To buy votes?” says I, in accents of horrow.
+
+“Yes. I wouldn't tell it out of the family. But you are all in the
+family, you know, and so I'll tell you. I sha'n't have to buy near
+so many votes on account of my plan; but I shall have to buy some, of
+course. You know, they all do; and I sha'n't stand no chance at all if I
+don't.”
+
+My groans was fearful that I groaned at this; but truly, worse was to
+come. He looked kinder pitiful at me (he loves me). But yet his love did
+not soften the firm resolve that wus spread thick over his linement as
+he went on,--
+
+“I lay out to get lots of votes with my green apples,” says he dreamily.
+“It seems as if I ought to get a vote for a bushel of apples; but there
+is so much iniquity and cheatin' a goin' on now in politics, that I may
+have to give a bushel and a half, or two bushels: and then, I shall make
+up a lot of the smaller ones into hard cider, and use 'em to--to advance
+the interests of myself and the nation in that way.
+
+“There is hull loads of folks uncle Nate says he can bring to vote for
+me, by the judicious use of--wall, it hain't likely you will approve of
+it; but I say, stimulants are necessary in medicine, and any doctor will
+tell you so--hard cider and beer and whiskey, and so 4th.”
+
+[Illustration: OUR LAW-MAKERS.]
+
+I riz right up, and grasped holt of his arm, and says in stern, avengin'
+tones,--
+
+“Josiah Allen, will you go right against God's commands, and put the cup
+to your neighbor's lips, for your own gain? Do you expect, if you do,
+that you can escape Heaven's avengin' wrath?”
+
+“They hain't my neighbors: I never neighbored with 'em.”
+
+Says I sternly, “If you commit this sin, you will be held accountable;
+and it seems to me as if you can never be forgiven.”
+
+“Dumb it all, Samantha, if everybody else does so, where will I get my
+votes?”
+
+“Go without 'em, Josiah Allen; go down to poverty, or the tomb, but
+never commit this sin. 'Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his
+neighbor's lips.'”
+
+“They hain't my neighbors, and it probable hain't no cup that they will
+drink out of: they will drink out of gobblers” (sometimes when Josiah
+gets excited, he calls goblets, gobblers). But I wus too wrought up and
+by the side of myself to notice it.
+
+Says I, “To think a human bein', to say nothin' of a perfessor, would go
+to work deliberate to get a man into a state that is jest as likely
+as not to end in a murder, or any crime, for gain to himself.” Says I,
+“Think of the different crimes you commit by that one act, Josiah Allen.
+You make a man a fool, and in that way put yourself down on a level with
+disease, deformity, and hereditary sin. You steal his reason away. You
+are a thief of the deepest dye; for you steal then, from the man you
+have stole from--steal the first rights of his manhood, his honor,
+his patriotism, his duty to God and man. You are a thief of the
+Government--thief of God, and right.
+
+“Then, _you_ make this man liable to commit any crime: so, if he
+murders, _you_ are a murderer; if he commits suicide, _your_ guilty soul
+shall cower in the presence of Him who said, 'No self-murderer shall
+inherit eternal life.' It is your own doom you shall read in them
+dreadful words.”
+
+“Good landy, Samantha! do you want to scare me to death?” and Josiah
+quailed and shook, and shook and quailed.
+
+“I am only tellin' you the truth, Josiah Allen; and I should think it
+_would_ scare anybody to death.”
+
+“If I don't do it, I shall appear like a fool: I shall be one by
+myself.”
+
+Oh, how Josiah duz want to be fashionable!
+
+“No, you won't, Josiah Allen--no, you won't. If you try to do right, try
+to do God's will, you have His armies to surround you with a unseen wall
+of Strength.”
+
+“Why, I hain't seen you look so sort o' skairful and riz up, for years,
+Samantha.”
+
+“I hain't felt so. To think of the brink you wuz a standin' on, and jest
+a fallin' off of.”
+
+Josiah looked quite bad. And he put his hand on his side, and says, “My
+heart beats as if it wuz a tryin' to get out and walk round the room. I
+do believe I have got population of the heart.”
+
+Says I, in a sarcasticker tone than I had used,--
+
+“That is a disease that is very common amongst men, very common, though
+they hain't over and above willin' to own up to it. Too much population
+of the heart has ailed many a man before now, and woman too,” says I in
+reasonable axents. “But you mean palpitation.”
+
+“Wall, I said so, didn't I? And it is jest your skairful talk that has
+done it.”
+
+“Wall, if I thought I could convince men as I have you, I would foller
+the business stiddy, of skairin' folks, and think I wuz doin' my duty.”
+ Says I, my emotions a roustin' up agin,--
+
+“I should call it a good deal more honorable in you to get drunk
+yourself; and I should think more of you, if I see you a reelin' round
+yourself, than to see you make other folks reel. I should think it was
+your own reel, and you had more right to it than to anybody else's.
+
+“Oh! to think I should have lived to see the hour, to have my companion
+in danger of goin' aginst the Scripter--ready to steal, or be stole, or
+knock down, or any thing, to buy votes, or sell 'em!”
+
+“Wall, dumb it all, do you want me to appear as awkward as a fool? I
+have told you more than a dozen times I have _got_ to do as the rest do,
+if I want to make any show at all in politics.”
+
+I said no more: but I riz right up, and walked out of the room, with my
+head right up in the air, and the strings of my head-dress a floatin'
+out behind me; and I'll bet there wus indignation in the float of them
+strings, and heart-ache, and agony, and--and every thing.
+
+I thought I had convinced him, and hadn't. I felt as if I must sink. You
+know, that is all a woman can do--to sink. She can't do any thing
+else in a helpful way when her beloved companion hangs over political
+abysses. She can't reach out her lovin' hand, and help stiddy him; she
+can't do nothin' only jest sink. And what made it more curious, these
+despairin' thoughts come to me as I stood by the sink, washin' my
+dinner-dishes. But anon (I know it wus jest anon, for the water wus
+bilein' hot when I turned it out of the kettle, and it scalded my hands,
+onbeknown to me, as I washed out my sass-plates) this thought gripped
+holt of me, right in front of the sink,--
+
+“Josiah Allen's wife, you must _not_ sink. You _must_ keep up. If you
+have no power to help your pardner to patriotism and honor, you can, if
+your worst fears are realized, try to keep him to home. For if his acts
+and words are like these in Jonesville, what will they be in Washington,
+D.C., if that place is all it has been depictered to you? Hold up,
+Samantha! Be firm, Josiah Allen's wife! John Rogers! The nine! One at
+the breast!”
+
+So at last, by these almost convulsive efforts at calmness, I grew more
+calmer and composeder. Josiah had hitched up and gone.
+
+And he come home clever, and all excited with a new thing.
+
+They are buildin' a new court-house at Jonesville. It is most done,
+and it seemed they got into a dispute that day about the cupelow. They
+wanted to have the figger of Liberty sculped out on it; and they had got
+the man there all ready, and he had begun to sculp her as a woman,--the
+goddess of Liberty, he called her. But at the last minute a dispute
+had rosen: some of the leadin' minds of Jonesville, uncle Nate Gowdey
+amongst 'em, insisted on it that Liberty wuzn't a woman, he wuz a man.
+And they wanted him depictered as a man, with whiskers and pantaloons
+and a standin' collar, and boots and spurs--Josiah Allen wus the one
+that wanted the spurs.
+
+He said the dispute waxed furious; and he says to 'em,--
+
+“Leave it to Samantha: she'll know all about it.”
+
+And so it was agreed on that they'd leave it to me. And he drove the
+old mare home, almost beyond her strength, he wus so anxious to have it
+settled.
+
+I wus jest makin' some cream biscuit for supper as he come in, and asked
+me about it; and a minute is a minute in makin' warm biscuit. You want
+to make 'em quick, and bake 'em quick. My mind wus fairly held onto
+that dough--and needed on it; but instinctively I told him he wus in the
+right ont. Liberty here in the United States wuz a man, and, in order
+to be consistent, ort to be depictered with whiskers and overcoat and a
+standin' collar.
+
+“And spurs!” says Josiah.
+
+“Wall,” I told him, “I wouldn't be particular about the spurs.” I said,
+“Instead of the spurs on his boots, he might be depictered as settin'
+his boot-heel onto the respectful petition of fifty thousand wimmen, who
+had ventured to ask him for a little mite of what he wus s'posed to have
+quantities of--Freedom.
+
+“Or,” says I, “he might be depictered as settin' on a judgment-seat, and
+wavin' off into prison an intelligent Christian woman, who had spent her
+whole noble, useful life in studyin' the laws of our nation, for darin'
+to think she had as much right under our Constitution, as a low, totally
+ignorant coot who would most likely think the franchise wus some sort of
+a meat-stew.”
+
+Says I, “That will give Liberty jest as imperious and showy a look as
+spurs would, and be fur more historick and symbolical.”
+
+Wall, he said he would mention it to 'em; and says he, with a contented
+look,--
+
+“I told uncle Nate I knew I wus right. I knew Liberty wus a man.”
+
+Wall, I didn't say no more: and I got him as good a supper as the house
+afforded, and kep' still as death on politics; fur I could not help
+havin' some hopes that he might get sick of the idee of public life. And
+I kep' him down close all that evenin' to religion and the weather.
+
+[Illustration: JONESVILLE COURTHOUSE.]
+
+But, alas! my hopes wus doomed to fade away. And, as days passed by, I
+see the thought of bein' a senator wus ever before him. The cares and
+burdens of political life seemed to be a loomin' up in front of him,
+and in a quiet way he seemed to be fittin' himself for the duties of his
+position.
+
+He come in one day with Solomon Cypher'ses shovel, and I asked him “what
+it wuz?”
+
+And he said “it wus the spoils of office.”
+
+And I says, “It is no such thing: it is Solomon Cypher'ses shovel.”
+
+“Wall,” says he, “I found it out by the fence. Solomon has gone over to
+the other party. I am a Democrat, and this is party spoils. I am goin'
+to keep this as one of the spoils of office.”
+
+Says I firmly, “You won't keep it!”
+
+“Why,” says he, “if I am goin' to enter political life, I must begin
+to practise sometime. I must begin to do as they all do. And it is a
+crackin' good shovel too,” says he pensively.
+
+Says I, “You are goin' to carry that shovel right straight home, Josiah
+Allen!”
+
+And I made him.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+But I see in this and in many kindred things, that he wuz a dwellin' on
+this thought of political life--its honors and emollients. And often,
+and in dark hints, he would speak of his _Plan_. If every other means
+failed, if he couldn't spare the money to buy enough votes, how his
+_plan_ wus goin' to be the makin' of him.
+
+And I overheard him tellin' the babe once, as he wus rockin' her to
+sleep in the kitchen, “how her grandpa had got up somethin' that no
+other babe's grandpa had ever thought of, and how she would probable see
+him in the White House ere long.”
+
+I wus makin' nut-cakes in the buttery; and I shuddered so at these
+words, that I got in most as much agin lemon as I wanted in 'em. I wus
+a droppin' it into a spoon, and it run over, I wus that shook at the
+thought of his plan.
+
+I had known his plans in the past, and had hefted 'em. And I truly
+felt that his plans wus liable any time to be the death of him, and the
+ruination.
+
+But he wouldn't tell!
+
+But kep' his mind immovibly sot, as I could see. And the very day of the
+shovel episode, along towards night he rousted out of a brown study,--a
+sort of a dark-brown study,--and says he,--
+
+“Yes, I shall make out enough votes if we have a judicious committee.”
+
+“A lyin' one, do you mean?” says I coldly. But not surprized. For truly,
+my mind had been so strained and racked that I don't know as it would
+have surprized me if Josiah Allen had riz up, and knocked me down.
+
+“Wall, in politics, you _have_ to add a few orts sometimes.”
+
+I sithed, not a wonderin' sithe, but a despairin' one; and he went on,--
+
+“I know where I shall get a hull lot of votes, anyway.”
+
+“Where?” says I.
+
+“Why, out to that nigger settlement jest the other side of Jonesville.”
+
+“How do you know they'll vote for you?” says I.
+
+“I'd like to see 'em vote aginst me!” says he, in a skairful way.
+
+“Would you use intimidation, Josiah Allen?”
+
+“Why, uncle Nate Gowdey and I, and a few others who love quiet, and
+love to see folks do as they ort to, lay out to take some shot-guns and
+_make_ them niggers vote right; make 'em vote for me; shoot 'em right
+down if they don't. We have got the campaign all planned out.”
+
+“Josiah Allen,” says I, “if you have no fear of Heaven, have you no fear
+of the Government? Do you want to be hung, and see your widow a breakin'
+her heart over your gallowses?”
+
+“Oh! I shouldn't get hung. The Government wouldn't do nothin'. The
+Government feels jest as I do,--that it would be wrong to stir up old
+bitternesses, and race differences. The bloody shirt has been washed,
+and ironed out; and it wouldn't be right to dirty it up agin. The
+colored race is now at peace; and if they will only do right, do jest as
+the white men wants 'em to, Government won't never interfere with 'em.”
+
+I groaned, and couldn't help it; and he says,--
+
+“Why, hang it all, Samantha, if I make any show at all in public life, I
+have got to begin to practise sometime.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “bring me in a pail of water.” But as he went out after
+it, I murmured sternly to myself,--
+
+“Oh! wus there ever a forerunner more needed run?” and my soul answered,
+“Never! never!”
+
+[Illustration: MAKING THEM DO RIGHT.]
+
+So with sithes that could hardly be sithed, so big and hefty wuz they, I
+commenced to make preparations for embarkin' on my tower. And no martyr
+that ever sot down on a hot gridiron wus animated by a more warm and
+martyrous feelin' of self-sacrifice. Yes, I truly felt, that if there
+wus dangers to be faced, and daggers run through pardners, I felt I
+would ruther they would pierce my own spare-ribs than Josiah's. (I say
+spare-ribs for oritory--my ribs are not spare, fur from it.)
+
+I didn't really believe, if he run, he would run clear to Washington.
+And yet, when my mind roamed on some public men, and how fur they run, I
+would groan, and hurry up my preparations.
+
+I knew my tower must be but a short one, for sugarin'-time wus
+approachin' with rapid strides, and Samantha must be at the hellum. But
+I also knew, that with a determined mind, and a willin' heart,
+great things could be accomplished speedily; so I commenced makin'
+preparations, and layin' on plans.
+
+As become a woman of my cast-iron principles, I fixed up mostly on
+the inside of my head instead of the outside. I studied the map of the
+United States. I done several sums on the slate, to harden my mind, and
+help me grasp great facts, and meet difficulties bravely. I read Gass'es
+“Journal,”--how he rode up our great rivers on a perioger, and shot
+bears. Expectin', as I did, to see trouble, I read over agin that
+book that has been my stay in so many hard-fit battle-fields of
+principle,--Fox'es “Book of Martyrs.”
+
+I studied G. Washington's picture on the parlor-wall, to get kinder
+stirred up in my mind about him, so's to realize to the full my
+privileges as I wept onto his tomb, and stood in the capital he had
+foundered.
+
+Thomas J. come one day while I wus musin' on George; and he says,--
+
+“What are you lookin' so close at that dear old humbug for?”
+
+Says I firmly, and keepin' the same posture, “I am studyin' the face of
+the revered and noble G. Washington. I am going shortly to weep on his
+tomb and the capital he foundered. I am studyin' his face, and Gass'es
+'Journal,' and other works,” says I.
+
+“If you are going to the capital, you had better study Dante.”
+
+Says I, “Danty who?”
+
+And he says, “Just plain Dante.” Says he, “You had better study his
+inscription on the door of the infern”--
+
+Says I, “Cease instantly. You are on the very pint of swearin';” and I
+don't know now what he meant, and don't much care. Thomas J. is full of
+queer remarks, anyway. But deep. He had a sick spell a few weeks ago;
+and I went to see him the first thing in the mornin', after I heard of
+it. He had overworked, the doctor said, and his heart wuz a little weak.
+He looked real white; and I took holt of his hand, and says I,--
+
+“Thomas J., I am worried about you: your pulse don't beat hardly any.”
+
+“No,” says he. And he laughed with his eyes and his lips too. “I am glad
+I am not a newspaper this morning, mother.”
+
+And I says, “Why?”
+
+And he says, “If I were a morning paper, mother, I shouldn't be a
+success, my circulation is so weak.”
+
+A jokin' right there, when he couldn't lift his head. But he got over
+it: he always did have them sort of sick spells, from a little child.
+
+But a manlier, good-hearteder, level-headeder boy never lived than
+Thomas Jefferson Allen. He is _just right_, and always wuz. And though I
+wouldn't have it get out for the world, I can't help seein' it, that he
+goes fur ahead of Tirzah Ann in intellect, and nobleness of nater; and
+though I love 'em both devotedly, I _do_, and I can't help it, like him
+jest a little mite the best. But _this_ I wouldn't have get out for a
+thousand dollars. I tell it in strict confidence, and s'pose it will
+be kep' as such. Mebby I hadn't ort to tell it at all. Mebby it hain't
+quite orthodox in me to feel so. But it is truthful, anyway. And
+sometimes I get to kinder wobblin' round inside of my mind, and a
+wonderin' which is the best,--to be orthodox, or truthful,--and I sort
+o' settle down to thinkin' I will tell the truth anyway.
+
+Josiah, I think, likes Tirzah Ann the best.
+
+But I studied deep, and mused. Mused on our 4 fathers, and our 4
+mothers, and on Liberty, and Independence, and Truth, and the Eagle. And
+thinkin' I might jest as well be to work while I was a musin', I had a
+dress made for the occasion. It wus bran new, and the color wus Bismark
+Brown.
+
+Josiah wanted me to have Ashes of Moses color.
+
+But I said no. With my mind in the heroic state it was then, I couldn't
+curb it down onto Ashes of Moses, or roses, or any thing else peacible.
+I felt that this color, remindin' me of two grand heroes,--Bismark, John
+Brown,--suited me to a T. There wus two wimmen who stood ready to make
+it,--Jane Bently and Martha Snyder. I chose Martha because Martha wus
+the name of the wife of Washington.
+
+It wus made with a bask.
+
+When the news got out that I wus goin' to Washington on a tower, the
+neighbors all wanted to send errents by me.
+
+Betsey Bobbet wanted me to go to the Patent Office, and get her two
+Patent-office books, for scrap-books for poetry.
+
+Uncle Jarvis Bently wanted me to go to the Agricultural Bureau, and get
+him a paper of lettis seed. And Solomon Cypher wanted me to get him a
+new kind of string-beans, if I could, and some cowcumber seeds.
+
+Uncle Nate Gowdey, who talked of paintin' his house over, wanted me to
+ask the President what kind of paint he used on the White House, and if
+he put in any sperits of turpentime. And Ardelia Rumsey, who wuz goin'
+to be married soon, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bed-quilt
+patterns to the White House, or to the senators' housen, to get the
+patterns for her. She said she wus sick of sunflowers, and blazin'
+stars, and such. She thought mebby they'd have suthin' new, spread-eagle
+style, or suthin' of that kind. She said “her feller was goin' to be
+connected with the Government, and she thought it would be appropriate.”
+
+And I asked her “how?” And she said, “he was goin' to get a patent on a
+new kind of a jack-knife.”
+
+I told her “if she wanted a Government quilt, and wanted it appropriate,
+she ort to have it a crazy-quilt.”
+
+And she said she had jest finished a crazy-quilt, with seven thousand
+pieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitches
+of feather stitchin': she counted 'em. And then I remembered seein' it.
+There wus some talk then about wimmen's rights, and a petition wus got
+up in Jonesville for wimmen to sign; and I remember well that Ardelia
+couldn't sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn't got the
+quilt more'n half done then. It took the biggest heft of two years to
+do it. And so, of course, less important things had to be put aside till
+she got it finished.
+
+And I remember, too, that Ardelia's mother wanted to sign it; but she
+couldn't, owin' to a bed-spread she wus a makin'. She wuz a quiltin' in
+Noah's ark, and all the animals, at that time, on a Turkey-red quilt.
+I remember she wuz a quiltin' the camel that day, and couldn't be
+disturbed. So we didn't get the names. It took the old lady three years
+to quilt that quilt. And when it wuz done, it wuz a sight to behold.
+Though, as I said then, and say now, I wouldn't give much to sleep
+under so many animals. But folks went from fur and near to see it, and
+I enjoyed lookin' at it that day. And I see jest how it wuz. I see that
+she couldn't sign. It wuzn't to be expected that a woman could stop to
+tend to Justice or Freedom, or any thing else of that kind, right in the
+midst of a camel.
+
+Zebulin Coon wanted me to carry a new hen-coop of hisen to get it
+patented. And I thought to myself, I wonder if they'll ask me to carry a
+cow.
+
+And sure enough, Josiah wanted me to dicker, if I could, for a calf
+from Mount Vernon,--swop one of our yearlin's for it if I couldn't do no
+better.
+
+But I told him right out and out, that I couldn't go into a calf-trade
+with my mind wrought up as I knew it would be.
+
+Wall, it wuzn't more'n 2 or 3 days after I begun my preparations, that
+Dorlesky Burpy, a vegetable widow, come to see me; and the errents
+she sent by me wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest put
+together, calves, hen-coop, and all.
+
+[Illustration: THE MOTHER'S BED-QUILT.]
+
+And when she told 'em over to me, and I meditated on her reasons for
+sendin' 'em, and her need of havin' 'em done, I felt that I would do
+the errents for her if a breath was left in my body. I felt that I
+would bear them 2 errents of hern on my tower side by side with my own
+private, hefty mission for Josiah.
+
+She come for a all day's visit; and though she is a vegetable widow, and
+very humbly, I wuz middlin' glad to see her. But thinks'es I to myself
+as I carried away her things into the bedroom, “She'll want to send some
+errent by me;” and I wondered what it wouldn't be.
+
+And so it didn't surprise me any when she asked me the first thing when
+I got back “if I would lobby a little for her in Washington.”
+
+And I looked agreeable to the idee; for I s'posed it wuz some new kind
+of tattin', mebby, or fancy work. And I told her “I shouldn't have much
+time, but I would try to buy her some if I could.”
+
+And she said “she wanted me to lobby, myself.”
+
+And then I thought mebby it wus some new kind of waltz; and I told her
+“I was too old to lobby, I hadn't lobbied a step since I was married.”
+
+And then she said “she wanted me to canvass some of the senators.”
+
+And I hung back, and asked her in a cautius tone “how many she wanted
+canvassed, and how much canvass it would take?”
+
+I knew I had a good many things to buy for my tower; and, though I
+wanted to obleege Dorlesky, I didn't feel like runnin' into any great
+expense for canvass.
+
+And then she broke off from that subject, and said “she wanted her
+rights, and wanted the Whiskey Ring broke up.”
+
+And then she says, going back to the old subject agin, “I hear that
+Josiah Allen has political hopes: can I canvass him?”
+
+And I says, “Yes, you can for all me.” But I mentioned cautiously, for I
+believe in bein' straightforward, and not holdin' out no false hopes,--I
+said “she must furnish her own canvass, for I hadn't a mite in the
+house.”
+
+But Josiah didn't get home till after her folks come after her. So he
+wuzn't canvassed.
+
+But she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to be
+parted from 'em, and how much she used to think of her husband, and how
+her hull life wus ruined, and how the Whiskey Ring had done it,--that,
+and wimmen's helpless condition under the law. And she cried, and wept,
+and cried about her children, and her sufferin's she had suffered; and
+I did. I cried onto my apron, and couldn't help it. A new apron too. And
+right while I wus cryin' onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to
+carry them two errents of hern to the President, and to get 'em done for
+her if I possibly could.
+
+“She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed, and she wanted her rights; and
+she wanted 'em both in less than 2 weeks.”
+
+I wiped my eyes off, and told her I didn't believe she could get 'em
+done in that length of time, but I would tell the President about it,
+and “I thought more'n as likely as not he would want to do right by
+her.” And says I, “If he sets out to, he can haul them babys of yourn
+out of that Ring pretty sudden.”
+
+And then, to kinder get her mind off of her sufferin's, I asked her
+how her sister Susan wus a gettin' along. I hadn't heard from her for
+years--she married Philemon Clapsaddle; and Dorlesky spoke out as bitter
+as a bitter walnut--a green one. And says she,--
+
+“She is in the poorhouse.”
+
+“Why, Dorlesky Burpy!” says I. “What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean what I say. My sister, Susan Clapsaddle, is in the poorhouse.”
+
+“Why, where is their property all gone?” says I. “They was well
+off--Susan had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him.”
+
+“I know it,” says she. “And I can tell you, Josiah Allen's wife, where
+their property is gone. It has gone down Philemon Clapsaddle's throat.
+Look down that man's throat, and you will see 150 acres of land, a good
+house and barns, 20 sheep, and 40 head of cattle.”
+
+“Why-ee!” says I.
+
+“Yes, you will see 'em all down that man's throat.” And says she,
+in still more bitter axents, “You will see four mules, and a span of
+horses, two buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo-robes. He
+has drinked 'em all up--and 2 horse-rakes, a cultivator, and a
+thrashin'-machine.
+
+“Why! Why-ee!” says I agin. “And where are the children?”
+
+“The boys have inherited their father's evil habits, and drink as bad as
+he duz; and the oldest girl has gone to the bad.”
+
+“Oh, dear! oh, dear me!” says I. And we both sot silent for a spell.
+And then, thinkin' I must say sunthin', and wantin' to strike a safe
+subject, and a good-lookin' one, I says,--
+
+“Where is your aunt Eunice'es girl? that pretty girl I see to your house
+once.”
+
+“That girl is in the lunatick asylum.”
+
+“Dorlesky Burpy!” says I. “Be you a tellin' the truth?”
+
+“Yes, I be, the livin' truth. She went to New York to buy millinary
+goods for her mother's store. It wus quite cool when she left home, and
+she hadn't took off her winter clothes: and it come on brilin' hot in
+the city; and in goin' about from store to store, the heat and the hard
+work overcome her, and she fell down in the street in a sort of a
+faintin'-fit, and was called drunk, and dragged off to a police court by
+a man who wus a animal in human shape. And he misused her in such a way,
+that she never got over the horror of what befell her--when she come to,
+to find herself at the mercy of a brute in a man's shape. She went into
+a melancholy madness, and wus sent to the asylum. Of course they
+couldn't have wimmen in such places to take care of wimmen,” says she
+bitterly.
+
+I sithed a long and mournful sithe, and sot silent agin for quite a
+spell. But thinkin' I _must_ be sociable, I says,--
+
+“Your aunt Eunice is well, I s'pose?”
+
+“She is a moulderin' in jail,” says she.
+
+“In jail? Eunice Keeler in jail?”
+
+“Yes, in jail.” And Dorlesky's tone wus now like wormwood, wormwood and
+gall.
+
+“You know, she owns a big property in tenement-houses, and other
+buildings, where she lives. Of course her taxes wus awful high; and she
+didn't expect to have any voice in tellin' how that money, a part of her
+own property, that she earned herself in a store, should be used.
+
+[Illustration: MAN LIFTING UP EUNICE.]
+
+“But she had jest been taxed high for new sidewalks in front of some of
+her buildin's.
+
+“And then another man come into power in that ward, and he natrully
+wanted to make some money out of her; and he had a spite aginst her,
+too, so he ordered her to build new sidewalks. And she wouldn't tear up
+a good sidewalk to please him or anybody else, so she was put to jail
+for refusin' to comply with the law.”
+
+Thinks'es I to myself, I don't believe the law would have been so hard
+on her if she hadn't been so humbly. The Burpys are a humbly lot. But I
+didn't think it out loud. And I didn't uphold the law for feelin' so, if
+it did. No: I says in pityin' tones,--for I wus truly sorry for Eunice
+Keeler,--
+
+“How did it end?”
+
+“It hain't ended,” says she. “It only took place a month ago; and she
+has got her grit up, and won't pay: and no knowin' how it will end. She
+lays there a moulderin'.”
+
+I myself don't believe Eunice wus “mouldy;” but that is Dorlesky's way
+of talkin',--very flowery.
+
+[Illustration: EUNICE IN JAIL.]
+
+“Wall,” says I, “do you think the weather is goin' to moderate?”
+
+I truly felt that I dassent speak to her about any human bein' under the
+sun, not knowin' what turn she would give to the conversation, bein' so
+embittered. But I felt the weather wus safe, and cotton stockin's, and
+factory-cloth; and I kep' her down onto them subjects for more'n two
+hours.
+
+But, good land! I can't blame her for bein' embittered aginst men and
+the laws they have made; for, if ever a woman has been tormented, she
+has.
+
+It honestly seems to me as if I never see a human creeter so afflicted
+as Dorlesky Burpy has been, all her life.
+
+Why, her sufferin's date back before she wus born; and that is goin'
+pretty fur back. You see, her father and mother had had some difficulty:
+and he wus took down with billious colic voyolent four weeks before
+Dorlesky wus born; and some think it wus the hardness between 'em, and
+some think it wus the gripin' of the colic at the time he made his will;
+anyway, he willed Dorlesky away, boy or girl, whichever it wuz, to his
+brother up on the Canada line.
+
+So, when Dorlesky wus born (and born a girl, entirely onbeknown to her),
+she wus took right away from her mother, and gin to this brother. Her
+mother couldn't help herself: he had the law on his side. But it jest
+killed her. She drooped right away and died, before the baby wus a year
+old. She was a affectionate, tenderhearted woman; and her husband wus
+kinder overbearin', and stern always.
+
+But it wus this last move of hisen that killed her; for I tell you, it
+is pretty tough on a mother to have her baby, a part of her own life,
+took right out of her arms, and gin to a stranger.
+
+For this uncle of hern wus a entire stranger to Dorlesky when the will
+wus made. And almost like a stranger to her father, for he hadn't seen
+him sence he wus a boy; but he knew he hadn't any children, and s'posed
+he wus rich and respectable. But the truth wuz, he had been a runnin'
+down every way,--had lost his property and his character, wus dissipated
+and mean (onbeknown, it wus s'posed, to Dorlesky's father). But the will
+was made, and the law stood. Men are ashamed now, to think the law wus
+ever in voge; but it wuz, and is now in some of the States. The law wus
+in voge, and the poor young mother couldn't help herself. It has always
+been the boast of our American law, that it takes care of wimmen. It
+took care of her. It held her in its strong, protectin' grasp, and held
+her so tight, that the only way she could slip out of it wus to drop
+into the grave, which she did in a few months. Then it leggo.
+
+But it kep' holt of Dorlesky: it bound her tight to her uncle, while he
+run through with what little property she had; while he sunk lower and
+lower, until at last he needed the very necessaries of life; and then
+he bound her out to work, to a woman who kep' a drinkin'-den, and the
+lowest, most degraded hant of vice.
+
+Twice Dorlesky run away, bein' virtuous but humbly; but them strong,
+protectin' arms of the law that had held her mother so tight, jest
+reached out, and dragged her back agin. Upheld by them, her uncle could
+compel her to give her service wherever he wanted her to work; and he
+wus owin' this woman, and she wanted Dorlesky's work, so she had to
+submit.
+
+But the 3d time, she made a effort so voyalent that she got away. A good
+woman, who, bein' nothin' but a woman, couldn't do any thing towards
+onclinchin' them powerful arms that wuz protectin' her, helped her to
+slip through 'em. And Dorlesky come to Jonesville to live with a sister
+of that good woman; changed her name, so's it wouldn't be so easy to
+find her; grew up to be a nice, industrious girl. And when the woman she
+was took by, died, she left Dorlesky quite a handsome property.
+
+And finally she married Lank Rumsey, and did considerable well, it
+was s'posed. Her property, put with what little he had, made 'em a
+comfortable home; and they had two pretty little children,--a boy and
+a girl. But when the little girl was a baby, he took to drinkin',
+neglected his business, got mixed up with a whisky-ring, whipped
+Dorlesky--not so very hard. He went accordin' to law; and the law of
+the United States don't approve of a man whippin' his wife enough to
+endanger her life--it says it don't. He made every move of hisen lawful,
+and felt that Dorlesky hadn't ort to complain and feel hurt. But a good
+whippin' will make anybody feel hurt, law or no law. And then he parted
+with her, and got her property and her two little children. Why, it
+seemed as if every thing under the sun and moon, that _could_ happen to
+a woman, had happened to Dorlesky, painful things, and gaulin'.
+
+Jest before Lank parted with her, she fell on a broken sidewalk: some
+think he tripped her up, but it never was proved. But, anyway, Dorlesky
+fell, and broke her hip bone; and her husband sued the corporation, and
+got ten thousand dollars for it. Of course, the law give the money to
+him, and she never got a cent of it. But she wouldn't never have made
+any fuss over that, knowin' that the law of the United States was such.
+But what made it gaulin' to her wuz, that, while she was layin' there
+achin' in splints, he took that very money and used it to court up
+another woman with. Gin her presents, jewellry, bunnets, head-dresses,
+artificial flowers, and etcetery, out of Dorlesky's own hip-money.
+
+[Illustration: DORLESKY'S TRIALS.]
+
+And I don't know as any thing could be much more gaulin' to a woman than
+that wuz,--while she lay there, groanin' in splints, to have her husband
+take the money for her own broken bones, and dress up another woman like
+a doll with it.
+
+But the law gin it to him; and he was only availin' himself of the
+glorious liberty of our free republic, and doin' as he was a mind to.
+
+And it was s'posed that that very hip-money was what made the match.
+For, before she wus fairly out of splints, he got a divorce from her.
+And by the help of that money, and the Whisky Ring, he got her two
+little children away from her.
+
+And I wonder if there is a mother in the land, that can blame Dorlesky
+for gettin' mad, and wantin' her rights, and wantin' the Whisky Ring
+broke up, when they think it over,--how she has been fooled round with
+by men, willed away, and whipped and parted with and stole from. Why,
+they can't blame her for feelin' fairly savage about 'em--and she duz.
+For as she says to me once when we wus a talkin' it over, how every
+thing had happened to her that could happen to a woman, and how curious
+it wuz,--
+
+“Yes,” says she, with a axent like boneset and vinegar,--“and what few
+things there are that hain't happened to me, has happened to my folks.”
+
+And, sure enough, I couldn't dispute her. Trouble and wrongs and
+sufferin's seemed to be epidemic in the race of Burpy wimmen. Why, one
+of her aunts on her father's side, Patty Burpy, married for her first
+husband Eliphalet Perkins. He was a minister, rode on a circuit. And he
+took Patty on it too; and she rode round with him on it, a good deal of
+the time. But she never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still,
+and be kinder settled down at home.
+
+But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him:
+so she rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly
+fagged out.
+
+He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they had
+hard times to get along. But what property they had wuzn't taxed, so
+that helped some; and Patty would make one doller go a good ways.
+
+No, their property wasn't taxed till Eliphalet died. Then the supervisor
+taxed it the very minute the breath left his body; run his horse, so it
+was said, so's to be sure to get it onto the tax-list, and comply with
+the law.
+
+You see, Eliphalet's salary stopped when his breath did. And I s'pose
+mebby the law thought, seem' she was a havin' trouble, she might jest as
+well have a little more; so it taxed all the property it never had taxed
+a cent for before.
+
+But she had this to console her anyway,--that the law didn't forget her
+in her widowhood. No: the law is quite thoughtful of wimmen, by spells.
+It says, the law duz, that it protects wimmen. And I s'pose in some
+mysterious way, too deep for wimmen to understand, it was protectin' her
+now.
+
+Wall, she suffered along, and finally married agin. I wondered why she
+did. But she was such a quiet, home-lovin' woman, that it was s'posed
+she wanted to settle down, and be kinder still and sot. But of all the
+bad luck she had! She married on short acquaintance, and he proved to be
+a perfect wanderer. Why, he couldn't keep still. It was s'posed to be a
+mark.
+
+He moved Patty thirteen times in two years; and at last he took her into
+a cart,--a sort of a covered wagon,--and travelled right through the
+Eastern States with her. He wanted to see the country, and loved to
+live in the wagon: it was his make. And, of course, the law give him the
+control of her body; and she had to go where he moved it, or else part
+with him. And I s'pose the law thought it was guardin' and nourishin'
+her when it was a joltin' her over them praries and mountains and
+abysses. But it jest kep' her shook up the hull of the time.
+
+It wus the regular Burpy luck.
+
+[Illustration: PATTY AND HUSBAND TRAVELLING IN THE FAR WEST.]
+
+And then, another one of her aunts, Drusilla Burpy, she married a
+industrius, hard-workin' man,--one that never drinked a drop, and was
+sound on the doctrines, and give good measure to his customers: he was
+a grocer-man. And a master hand for wantin' to foller the laws of his
+country, as tight as laws could be follered. And so, knowin' that the
+law approved of “moderate correction” for wimmen, and that “a man might
+whip his wife, but not enough to endanger her life,” he bein' such a
+master hand for wantin' to do every thing faithful, and do his very best
+for his customers, it was s'posed that he wanted to do his best for the
+law; and so, when he got to whippin' Drusilla, he would whip her _too_
+severe--he would be _too_ faithful to it.
+
+You see, the way ont was, what made him whip her at all wuz, she was
+cross to him. They had nine little children. She always thought that two
+or three children would be about all one woman could bring up well “by
+hand,” when that one hand wuz so awful full of work, as will be told
+more ensuin'ly. But he felt that big families wuz a protection to the
+Government; and “he wanted fourteen boys,” he said, so they could all
+foller their father's footsteps, and be noble, law-making, law-abiding
+citizens, jest as he was.
+
+But she had to do every mite of the housework, and milk cows, and make
+butter and cheese, and cook and wash and scour, and take all the care
+of the children, day and night, in sickness and in health, and spin and
+weave the cloth for their clothes (as wimmen did in them days), and then
+make 'em, and keep 'em clean. And when there wuz so many of 'em, and
+only about a year's difference in their ages, some of 'em--why, I s'pose
+she sometimes thought more of her own achin' back than she did of the
+good of the Government; and she would get kinder discouraged sometimes,
+and be cross to him.
+
+And knowin' his own motives was so high and loyal, he felt that he ought
+to whip her. So he did.
+
+And what shows that Drusilla wuzn't so bad as he s'posed she wuz, what
+shows that she did have her good streaks, and a deep reverence for the
+law, is, that she stood his whippin's first-rate, and never whipped him.
+
+Now, she wuz fur bigger than he wuz, weighed 80 pounds the most, and
+might have whipped him if the law had been such.
+
+[Illustration: BEATING HIS WIFE.]
+
+But they was both law-abidin', and wanted to keep every preamble; so she
+stood it to be whipped, and never once whipped him in all the seventeen
+years they lived together.
+
+She died when her twelfth child was born: there wus jest 13 months
+difference in the age of that and the one next older. And they said she
+often spoke out in her last sickness, and said,--
+
+“Thank fortune, I have always kept the law.”
+
+And they said the same thought wus a great comfort to him in his last
+moments.
+
+He died about a year after she did, leaving his 2nd wife with twins and
+a good property.
+
+Then, there was Abagail Burpy. She married a sort of a high-headed
+man, though one that paid his debts, and was truthful, and considerable
+good-lookin', and played well on the fiddle. Why, it seemed as if he had
+almost every qualification for makin' a woman happy, only he had jest
+this one little excentricity,--that man would lock up Abagail Burpy's
+clothes every time he got mad at her.
+
+Of course the law give her clothes to him; and knowin' it was one of the
+laws of the United States, she wouldn't have complained only when she
+had company. But it was mortifyin', and nobody could dispute it, to have
+company come, and nothin' to put on.
+
+Several times she had to withdraw into the wood-house, and stay most
+of the day, shiverin', and under the cellar-stairs, and round in
+clothes-presses.
+
+But he boasted in prayer-meetin's, and on boxes before grocery-stores,
+that he wus a law-abidin' citizen; and he wuz. Eben Flanders wouldn't
+lie for anybody.
+
+But I'll bet that Abagail Flanders beat our old Revolutionary 4 mothers
+in thinkin' out new laws, when she lay round under stairs, and behind
+barrells, in her nightdress.
+
+You see, when a man hides his wive's corset and petticoat, it is
+governin' without the “consent of the governed.” And if you don't
+believe it, you ort to have peeked round them barrells, and seen
+Abagail's eyes. Why, they had hull reams of by-laws in 'em, and
+preambles, and “declarations of independence.” So I have been told.
+
+Why, it beat every thing I ever heard on, the lawful sufferin's of them
+wimmen. For there wuzn't nothin' illegal about one single trouble of
+theirn. They suffered accordin' to law, every one of 'em. But it wus
+tuff for 'em--very tuff.
+
+And their all bein' so dretful humbly wuz and is another drawback to
+'em; though that, too, is perfectly lawful, as everybody knows.
+
+And Dorlesky looks as bad agin as she would otherways, on account of her
+teeth.
+
+It wus after Lank had begun to kinder get after this other woman, and
+wus indifferent to his wive's looks, that Dorlesky had a new set of
+teeth on her upper jaw. And they sort o' sot out, and made her look so
+bad that it fairly made her ache to look at herself in the glass. And
+they hurt her gooms too. And she carried 'em back to the dentist, and
+wanted him to make her another set.
+
+But the dentist acted mean, and wouldn't take 'em back, and sued Lank
+for the pay. And they had a lawsuit. And the law bein' such that a
+woman can't testify in court in any matter that is of mutual interest
+to husband and wife--and Lank wantin' to act mean, too, testified that
+“they wus good sound teeth.”
+
+And there Dorlesky sot right in front of 'em with her gooms achin', and
+her face all pokin' out, and lookin' like furyation, and couldn't say a
+word. But she had to give in to the law.
+
+And ruther than go toothless, she wears 'em to this day. And I do
+believe it is the raspin' of them teeth aginst her gooms, and her
+discouraged and mad feelin's every time she looks in a glass, that helps
+to embitter her towards men, and the laws men have made, so's a woman
+can't have the control over her own teeth and her own bones.
+
+Wall, Dorlesky went home about 4 P.M., I a promisin' at the last minute
+as sacred as I could, without usin' a book, to do her errents for her.
+
+I urged her to stay to supper, but she couldn't; for she said the man
+where she worked was usin' his horses, and couldn't come after her agin.
+And she said that--
+
+“Mercy on her! how could anybody eat any more supper after such a dinner
+as I had got?”
+
+And it wuzn't nothin' extra, I didn't think. No better than my common
+run of dinners.
+
+Wall, she hadn't been gone over an hour (she a hollerin' from the wagon,
+a chargin' on me solemn, about the errents,--the man she works for is
+deef, deef as a post,--and I a noddin' to her firm, honorable nods, that
+I would do 'em), and I wus a slickin' up the settin'-room, and Martha,
+who had jest come in, wus measurin' off my skirt-breadths, when Josiah
+Allen drove up, and Cicely and the boy with him.
+
+And there I had been a layin' out to write to her that very night to
+tell her I wus goin' away, and to be sure and come jest as quick as I
+got back!
+
+Wall, I never see the time I wuzn't glad to see Cicely, and I felt that
+she could visit to Tirzah Ann's and Thomas J.'s while I wus gone. She
+looked dretful pale and sad, I thought; but she seemed glad to see
+me, and glad to get back. And the boy asked Josiah and Ury and me 47
+questions between the wagon and the front doorstep, for I counted 'em.
+He wus well.
+
+I broached the subject of my tower to Cicely when she and I wus all
+alone in her room. And, if you'll believe it, she all rousted up with
+the idee of wantin' to go too.
+
+She says, “You know, aunt Samantha, just how I have prayed and labored
+for my boy's future; how I have made all the efforts that it is possible
+for a woman to make; how I have thrown my heart and life into the
+work,--but I have done no good. That letter,” says she, takin' one out
+of her pocket, and throwin' it into my lap,--“that letter tells me just
+what I knew so well before,--just how weak a woman is; that they have no
+power, only the power to suffer.”
+
+It wus from that old executor, refusin' to comply with some request she
+had made about her own property,--a request of right and truth.
+
+Oh, how glad I would have been to had him execkuted that very minute!
+Why, I'd done it myself if wimmen could execkit--but they can't.
+
+Says she, “I'll go with you to Washington,--I and the boy. Perhaps I can
+do something for him there.” But when she mentioned the boy, I demurred
+in my own mind, and kep' a demurrin'. Thinks'es I, how can I stand it,
+as tired as I expect to be, to have him a askin' questions all the hull
+time? She see I was a demurrin'; and her pretty face grew sadder than it
+had, and overcasteder.
+
+And as I see that, I gin in at once, and says with a cheerful face, but
+a forebodin' mind,--
+
+“Wall, Cicely, we three will embark together on our tower.”
+
+Wall, after supper Cicely and I sot down under the front stoop,--it
+was a warm evenin',--and we talked some about other wimmen. Not runnin'
+talk, or gossipin' talk, but jest plain talk, about her aunt Mary, and
+her aunt Melissa, and her aunt Mary's daughter, who wus a runnin' down,
+runnin' faster than ever, so I judged from what she said. And how Susan
+Ann Grimshaw that was, had a young babe. She said her aunt Mary was
+better now, so she had started for the Michigan; but she had had a
+dretful sick spell while she was there.
+
+While she wuz a tellin' me this, Cicely sot on one of the steps of the
+stoop: I sot up under it in my rockin'-chair. And she looked dretful
+good to me. She had on a white dress. She most always wears white in the
+house, when we hain't got company; and always wears black when she is
+dressed up, and when she goes out.
+
+This dress was made of white mull. The yoke wus made all of thin
+embroidery, and her white neck and shoulders shone through it like snow.
+Her sleeves was all trimmed with lace, and fell back from her pretty
+white arms. Her hands wus clasped over her knees; and her hair, which
+the boy had got loose a playin' with her, wus fallin' round her face
+and neck. And her great, earnest eyes wus lookin' into the West, and the
+light from the sunset fallin' through the mornin'-glorys wus a fallin'
+over her, till I declare, I never see any thing look so pretty in my
+hull life. And there was some thin' more, fur more than prettiness in
+her face, in her big eyes.
+
+It wuzn't unhappiness, and it wuzn't happiness, and I don't know as I
+can tell what it wuz. It seemed as if she wuz a lookin' fur, fur
+away, further than Jonesville, further than the lake that lay beyend
+Jonesville, and which was pure gold now,--a sea of glass mingled with
+fire,--further than the cloudy masses in the western heavens, which
+looked like a city of shinin' mansions, fur off; but her eyes was
+lookin' away off, beyend them.
+
+And I kep' still, and didn't feel like talkin' about other wimmen.
+
+Finally she spoke out. “Aunt Samantha, what do you suppose I thought
+when dear aunt Mary was so ill when I was there?”
+
+And I says, “I don't know, dear: what did you?”
+
+“Well, I thought, that, though I loved her so dearly, I almost wished
+she would die while I was there.”
+
+“Why, Cicely!” says I. “Why-ee! what did you wish that for? and thinkin'
+so much of your aunt as you do.”
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING BEYEND THE SUNSET.]
+
+“Well, you know how mother and aunt Mary loved each other, how near they
+were to each other. Why, mother could always tell when aunt Mary was
+ill or in trouble, and she was just the same in regard to mother. And I
+can't think that when death has freed the soul from the flesh, that they
+will have less spiritual knowledge of each other than when they were
+here; and I felt, that with such a love as theirs, death would only make
+their souls nearer: and you know what the Bible says,--that 'God shall
+make of his angels ministering spirits;' and I _know_ He would send
+no other angel but my mother, to dear aunt Mary's bedside, to take her
+spirit home. And I thought, that, if I were there, my mother would be
+there right in the room with me; and I didn't know but I might _feel_
+her presence if I could not see her. And I _do_ want my mother so
+sometimes, aunt Samantha,” says she with the tears comin' into them
+soft brown eyes. “It seems as if she would tell me what to do for the
+boy--she always knew what was right and best to do.”
+
+Says I to myself, “For the land's sake, what won't Cicely think on
+next?” But I didn't say a word, mind you, not a single word would I say
+to hurt that child's feelin's--not for a silver dollar, I wouldn't.
+
+I only says, in calm accents,--
+
+“Don't for mercy's sake, child, talk of seein' your mother now.”
+
+She looked far off into the shinin' western heavens with that deep,
+searchin', but soft gaze,--seemin' to look clear through them cloudy
+mansions of rose and pearl,--and says she,--
+
+“If I were good enough, I think I could.”
+
+And I says, “Cicely, you are goin' to take cold, with nothin' round your
+shoulders.” Says I, “The weather is very ketchin', and it looks to me as
+if we wus goin' to have quite a spell of it.”
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 75 questions about ketchin' the
+weather.
+
+“If the weather set a trap? If it ketched with bait, or with a hook, and
+what it ketched? and how? and who?”
+
+Oh my stars! what a time I did have!
+
+The next mornin' after this Cicely wuzn't well enough to get up. I
+carried up her breakfast with my own hands,--a good one, though I am fur
+from bein' the one that ort to say it.
+
+And after breakfast, along in the forenoon, Martha, who was makin'
+my dress, felt troubled in mind as to whether she had better cut the
+polenay kitrin' ways of the cloth, or not: and Miss Gowdey had jest had
+one made in the height of the fashion, to Jonesville; and so to ease
+Martha's mind (she is one that gets deprested easy, when weighty
+subjects are pressin' her down), I said I would run over cross-lots, and
+carry home a drawin' of tea I had borrowed, and look at the polenay, and
+bring back tidin's from it. And I wus goin' there acrost the orchard,
+when I see the boy a layin' on his back under a apple-tree, lookin' up
+into the sky; and says I,--
+
+“What be you doin' here, Paul?”
+
+He never got up, nor moved a mite. That is one of the peculiarities of
+the boy, you can't surprise him: nothin' seems to startle him.
+
+He lay still, and spoke out for all the world as if I had been there
+with him all day.
+
+“I am lookin' to see if I can see it. I thought I got a glimpse of it a
+minute ago, but it wus only a white cloud.”
+
+“Lookin' for what?” says I.
+
+“The gate of that City that comes down out of the heavens. You know,
+uncle Josiah read about it this morning, out of that big book he prays
+out of after breakfast. He said the gate was one pearl.
+
+“And I asked mamma what a pearl was, and she said it was just like that
+ring she wears that papa gave her. And I asked her where the City was,
+and she said it was up in the heavens. And I asked her if I should ever
+see it; and she said, if I was good, it would swing down out of the sky,
+sometime, and that shining gate would open, and I should walk through it
+into the City.
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING FOR THE CITY.]
+
+“And I went right to being good, that minute; and I have been good for
+as many as three hours, I should think. And _say_, how long have you got
+to be good before you can go through? And _say_, can you see it before
+you go through? And SAY”--
+
+But I had got most out of hearin' then.
+
+“And _say_”--
+
+I heard his last “say” just as I got out of hearin' of him.
+
+He acted kinder disappointed at dinner-time, and said “he wus tired of
+watchin', and tired out of bein' good;” and he wus considerable cross
+all that afternoon. But he got clever agin before bedtime. And he come
+and leaned up aginst my lap at sundown, and asked me, I guess, about 200
+questions about the City.
+
+And his eyes looked big and dreamy and soft, and his cheeks looked rosy,
+and his mouth awful good and sweet. And his curls wus kinder moist, and
+hung down over his white forehead. I _did_ love him, and couldn't help
+it, chin or no chin.
+
+He had been still for quite a spell, a thinkin'; and at last he broke
+out,--
+
+“Say, auntie, shall I see my father there in the City?”
+
+And I didn't know what to tell him; for you know what it says,--
+
+“_Without_ are murderers.”
+
+[Illustration: ASKING ABOUT THE CITY.]
+
+But then, agin, I thought, what will become of the respectable church
+members who sell the fire that flames up in a man's soul, and ruins his
+life? What will become of them who lend their votes and their influence
+to make it right? They vote on Saturdays, to make the sale of this
+poison legal, and on Sundays go to church with their respectable
+families. And they expect to go right to heaven, of course; for they
+have improved all the means of grace. Hired costly pews, and give big
+charities--in money obtained by sellin' robberies, murders, broken
+hearts, ruined lives.
+
+But the boy wanted an answer; and his eyes looked questioning but soft.
+
+“Say, auntie, do you think we'll find him there, mamma and I? You know,
+that is what mamma cries so for,--she wants him so bad. And do you think
+he will stand just inside the gate, waiting for us? _Say!_”
+
+But agin I thought of what it said,--
+
+“No drunkard shall inherit eternal life.”
+
+And agin I didn't know what to say, and I hurried him off to bed.
+
+But, after he had gone, I spoke out entirely unbeknown to myself, and
+says,--
+
+“I can't see through it.”
+
+“You can't see through what?” says Josiah, who wus jest a comin' in.
+
+“I can't see through it, why drunkards and murderers are punished, and
+them that make 'em drink and murder go free. I can't see through it.”
+
+“Wall, I don't see how you can see through any thing here--dark as
+pitch.” Here he fell over a stool, which made him madder.
+
+“Folks make fools of themselves, a follerin' up that subject.” Here he
+stubbed his foot aginst the rockin'-chair, and most fell, and snapped
+out enough to take my head off,--
+
+“The dumb fools will get so before long, that a man can't drink milk
+porridge without their prayin' over him.”
+
+Says I, “Be calm! stand right still in the middle of the floor, Josiah
+Allen, and I'll light a lamp,” which I did; and he sot down cleverer,
+though he says,--
+
+“You want to take away all the rights of a man. Liquor is good for
+sickness, and you know it. You go onto extremes, you go too fur.”
+
+Says I calmly, “Do you s'pose, at this late hour, I am goin' to stop
+bein' mejum? No! mejum have I lived, and mejum will I die. I believe
+liquor is good for medicine: if I should say I didn't, I should be a
+lyin', which I am fur from wantin' to do at my age. I think it kep'
+mother Allen alive for years, jest as I believe arsenic broke up Bildad
+Smith's chills. And I s'pose folks have jest as good a right to use it
+for the benefit of their health, as to use any other pizen, or fire, or
+any thing.
+
+“And it should be used jest like pizen and fire and etcetery. You don't
+want to eat pizen for a treat, or pass it round amongst your friends.
+You don't want to play with fire for fun, or burn yourself up with it.
+You don't want to use it to confligrate yourself or anybody else.
+
+“So with liquor. You don't want to drink liquor to kill yourself with,
+or to kill other folks. You don't want to inebriate with it. If I had my
+way, Josiah Allen,” says I firmly, “the hull liquor-trade should be
+in the hands of doctors, who wouldn't sell a drop without knowin'
+_positive_ that it wus _needed_ for sickness, or the aged and infirm.
+Good, honest doctors who couldn't be bought nor sold.”
+
+“Where would you find 'em?” says Josiah in a gruff tone (I mistrust his
+toe pained him).
+
+Says I thoughtfully, “Surely there is one good, reliable man left in
+every town--that could be found.”
+
+“I don't know about it,” says he, sort o' musin'ly. “I am gettin' pretty
+old to begin it, but I don't know but I might get to be a doctor now.”
+
+Says he, brightenin' up, “It can't take much study to deal out a dose of
+salts now and then, or count anybody's pult.”
+
+But says I firmly, “Give up that idee at once, Josiah Allen. I have
+come out alive, out of all your other plans and progects, and I hain't a
+goin' to be killed now at my age, by you as a doctor.”
+
+My tone wus so powerful, and even skairful, that he gin up the idee, and
+wound up the clock, and went to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Cicely wus some better the next day. And two days before we sot sail for
+Washington, Philury Mesick, the girl Ury was payin' attention to, and
+who was goin' to keep my house durin' my absence on my tower, come with
+a small, a very small trunk, ornimented with brass nails.
+
+Poor little thing! I wus always sorry for her, she is so little, and so
+freckled, and so awful willin' to do jest as anybody wants her to. She
+is a girl that Miss Solomon Gowdey kinder took. And I think, if there
+is any condition that is hard, it is to be “kinder took.” Why, if I was
+took at all, I should want to be “_took_.”
+
+But Miss Gowdey took Philury jest enough not to pay her any regular
+wages, and didn't take her enough so Philury could collect any pay from
+her when she left. She left, because there wus a hardness between 'em,
+on account of a grindstun. Philury said Miss Gowdey's little boy broke
+the grindstun, and the boy laid it to Philury. Anyway, the grindstun wus
+broke, and it made a hardness. And when Philury left Miss Gowdey's, all
+her worldly wealth wuz held in that poor, pitiful lookin' trunk. Why,
+the trunk looked like Philury, and Philury looked like the trunk. It
+looked small, and meek, and well disposed; and the brass nails looked
+some like frecks, only larger.
+
+Wall, I felt sorry for her: and I s'posed, that, married or single, she
+would have to wear stockin's; so I told her, that, besides her wages,
+she might have all the lamb's-wool yarn she wanted to spin while I was
+gone, after doin' the house-work.
+
+She wus tickled enough as I told her.
+
+“Why,” says she, “I can spin enough to last me for years and years.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “so much the better. I have mistrusted,” says I, “that
+Miss Gowdey wouldn't do much for you on account of that hardness about
+the grindstun; and knowin' that you hain't got no mother, I have laid
+out to do middlin' well by you and Ury when you get married.”
+
+And she blushed, and said “she expected to marry Ury sometime--years and
+years hence.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “you can spin the yarn anyway.”
+
+Philury is a real handy little thing about the house. And so willin' and
+clever, that I guess, if I had asked her to jump into the oven, and bake
+herself, she would have done it. And so I told Josiah.
+
+[Illustration: PHILURY.]
+
+And he said “he thought a little more bakin' wouldn't hurt her.” Says
+he, “She is pretty soft.”
+
+And says I, “Soft or not, she's good. And that is more than I can say
+for some folks, who _think_ they know a little more.”
+
+I will stand up for my sect.
+
+Wall, in three days' time we sot sail for Washington, D.C., I a feelin'
+well about Josiah. For Philury and Ury wus clever, and would do well by
+him. And the cubbard wus full and overflowin' with every thing good to
+eat. And I felt that I had indeed, in that cubbard, left him a consoler.
+
+Josiah took us to the train about an hour and a half too early. But
+I wus glad we wus on time, because it would have worked Josiah up
+dretfully if we hadn't been. For he had spent the most of the latter
+part of the night in gettin' up and walkin' out to the clock to see if
+it wus approachin' train time: the train left at a quarter to ten.
+
+I wus glad on his account, and also on my own; for at the last minute,
+as you may say, who should come a runnin' down to the depot but Sam
+Shelmadine, a wantin' to send a errent by me to Washington.
+
+He kinder wunk me out to one side of the waitin'-room, and asked me “if
+I would try to get him a license to steal horses.”
+
+It kinder runs in the blood of the Shelmadines to love to steal, and he
+owned up that it did. But he wuzn't goin' into it for that, he said: he
+wanted the profit of it.
+
+But I told him “I wouldn't do any such thing;” and I looked at him in
+such a witherin' way, that I should most probable have withered him,
+only he is blind with one eye, and I was on the blind side.
+
+But he argued with me, and said it was no worse than to give licenses
+for other kinds of meanness.
+
+He said they give licenses now to steal--steal folks'es senses away, and
+then they would steal every thing else, and murder, and tear round into
+every kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things done
+fair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He was goin' West, and
+he thought he could do a good business, and lay up something. If he had
+a license, he shouldn't be afraid of bein' shot up, or shot.
+
+But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wus refusin', the cars
+snorted, and I wus glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild
+snort something of the indignation I felt.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+When Cicely and the boy and I got to Washington, the shades of twilight
+was a shadin the earth gently; and we got a man to take us to Condelick
+Smith'ses.
+
+The man was in a hack, as Cicely called it (and he had a hackin' cough,
+too, which made it seem more singular). We told him to take us right to
+Miss Condelick Smith'ses. Condelick is my own cousin on my own side, and
+travelin' on the road for groceries.
+
+She keeps a nice, quiet boardin'-house. Only a few boarders, “with the
+comforts of a home, and congenial society,” as she wrote to me when she
+heard I wus a comin' to Washington. She said we had _got_ to go to
+her house; so we went, with the distinct knowledge in our minds and
+pocket-books, of payin' for our 3 boards.
+
+She was very tickled to see us, and embraced us almost warmly. She had
+been over a hot fire a cookin'. She is humbly, but likely, I have been
+told and believe.
+
+She has got a wen on her cheek, but that don't hurt her any. Wens hain't
+nothin' that detract from a person's moral worth.
+
+There is only one child in the family,--Condelick, Jr., aged 13. A
+good, fat boy, with white hair and blue eyes, and a great capacity for
+blushin', but seemed to be good dispositioned.
+
+It wus late supper time; and we had only time to go up into our rooms,
+and bathe our weary faces and hands, when we had to go down to supper.
+
+Miss Condelick Smith called it dinner: she misspoke herself. Havin' so
+much on her hands, it is no wonder that she should make a slip once in a
+while. I should, myself, if my mind wuzn't like iron for strength. There
+wus only three or four to the table besides us: it wuz later than their
+usial supper time. There wus a young couple there who had jest been
+married, and come there to live.
+
+Ever sense we left home we had seen sights and sights of brides and
+groomses. It seemed to be a good time of year for 'em; and Cicely and I
+would pass the time by guessin', from their demeaners, how long they had
+been married. You know they act very soft the first day or two, and then
+harden gradually, as time passes, till sometimes they get very hard.
+
+Wall, as I looked at this young pair, I whispered to Cicely,--
+
+“2 days.”
+
+They acted well. Though I see with pain that the bride was tryin' to
+foller after the groom blindly, and I see she was a layin' up trouble
+for herself. Amongst other good things, they had a baked chicken for
+supper; and when the young husband wus asked what part of the fowl he
+would take, he said,--
+
+“It was immaterial!”
+
+And then, when they asked the bride, she blushed sweetly, and said,--
+
+“She would take a piece of the immaterial too.”
+
+And she bein' next to me, I said to her in a low tone, but firm and
+motherly,--
+
+“You are a beginner in married life; and I say to you, as one who has
+had stiddy practice for 20 years, begin right. Let your affections be
+firm as adamant, cling closely to Duty's apron-strings, but do not too
+blindly copy after your groom. Try to stand up on your own feet, and be
+a helpmate to him, not a dead weight for him to carry. Do branch right
+out, and tell what part of the fowl, or of life, you want, if it hain't
+nothin' but the gizzard or neck; and then try to get it. If you don't
+have any self-reliance, if you don't try to help yourself any, it is
+highly probable to me, that you won't get any thing more out of the
+fowl, or of life, than a piece of 'the immaterial.'”
+
+She blushed, and said she would. And so Duty bein' appeased, and
+attended to, I calmly pursued my own meal.
+
+The next morning Cicely was so beat out that she couldn't get up at
+all. She wuzn't sick, only jest tired out. And so the boy and I sot out
+alone.
+
+I told Cicely I would do my errents the first thing, so as to leave my
+mind and my conscience clear for the rest of my stay.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA ADVISING THE BRIDE.]
+
+And I knew there wuz a good many who would feel hurt, deeply hurt, if I
+didn't notice 'em right off the first thing. The President, and lots of
+'em, I knew would take it right to heart, and feel dretfully worked up
+and slighted, if I didn't call on 'em.
+
+And then, I had to carry Dorlesky's errent to the President anyway. And
+I thought I would tend to it right away, so I sot out in good season.
+
+When you are a noticin' anybody, and makin' 'em perfectly happy, you
+feel well yourself. I was in good spirits, and quite a number of 'em.
+The boy wus feelin' well too. He had a little black velvet suit and a
+deep lace collar, and his gold curls was a hangin' down under his little
+black velvet cap. They made him look more babyish; but I believe Cicely
+kept 'em so to make him look young, she felt so dubersome about his
+future. But he looked sweet enough to kiss right there in the street.
+
+I, too, looked well, very. I had on that new dress, Bismark brown, the
+color remindin' me of 2 noble patriots. And made by a Martha. I thought
+of that proudly, as I looked at George's benign face on the top of
+the monument, and wondered what he'd say if he see it, and hefted my
+emotions I had when causin' it to be made for my tower. I realized as
+I meandered along, that patriotism wus enwrappin' me from head to foot;
+for my polynay was long, and my head was completely full of Gass'es
+“Journal,” and Starks'es “Life of Washington,” and a few martyrs.
+
+I wus carryin' Dorlesky's errents.
+
+On the outside of my head I had a good honorable shirred silk bunnet,
+the color of my dress, a good solid brown (that same color, B. B.). And
+my usial long green veil, with a lute-string ribbon run in, hung down on
+one side of my bunnet in its wonted way.
+
+It hung gracefully, and yet it seemed to me there wus both dignity and
+principle in its hang. It give me a sort of a dressy look, but none too
+dressy.
+
+And so we wended our way down the broad, beautiful streets towards the
+White House.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND PAUL ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE.]
+
+Handsomer streets I never see. I had thought Jonesville streets wus
+middlin' handsome and roomy. Why, two double wagons can go by each other
+with perfect safety, right in front of the grocery stores, where there
+is lots of boxes too; and wimmen can be a walkin' there too at the same
+time, hefty ones.
+
+But, good land! Loads of hay could pass each other here, and droves of
+dromedaries, and camels, and not touch each other, and then there
+would be lots of room for men and wimmen, and for wagons to rumble, and
+perioguers to float up and down,--if perioguers could sail on dry land.
+
+Roomier, handsomer, well shadeder streets I never want to see, nor don't
+expect to. Why, Jonesville streets are like tape compared with 'em; and
+Loontown and Toad Holler, they are like thread, No. 50 (allegory).
+
+Bub Smith wus well acquainted with the President's hired man, so he let
+us in without parlay.
+
+I don't believe in talkin big as a general thing. But thinks'es I, Here
+I be, a holdin' up the dignity of Jonesville: and here I be, on a deep,
+heart-searchin' errent to the Nation. So I said, in words and axents
+a good deal like them I have read of in “Children of the Abbey,” and
+“Charlotte Temple,”--
+
+“Is the President of the United States within?”
+
+He said he was, but said sunthin' about his not receiving calls in the
+mornings.
+
+But I says in a very polite way,--for I like to put folks at their ease,
+presidents or peddlers or any thing,--
+
+“It hain't no matter at all if he hain't dressed up--of course he wuzn't
+expectin' company. Josiah don't dress up mornin's.”
+
+And then he says something about “he didn't know but he was engaged.”
+
+Says I, “That hain't no news to me, nor the Nation. We have been a
+hearin' that for three years, right along. And if he is engaged, it
+hain't no good reason why he shouldn't speak to other wimmen,--good,
+honorable married ones too.”
+
+“Well,” says he finally, “I will take up your card.”
+
+“No, you won't!” says I firmly. “I am a Methodist! I guess I can start
+off on a short tower, without takin' a pack of cards with me. And if
+I had 'em right here in my pocket, or a set of dominoes, I shouldn't
+expect to take up the time of the President of the United States a
+playin' games at this time of the day.” Says I in deep tones, “I am a
+carrien' errents to the President that the world knows not of.”
+
+He blushed up red; he was ashamed; and he said “he would see if I could
+be admitted.”
+
+And he led the way along, and I follered, and the boy. Bub Smith had
+left us at the door.
+
+The hired man seemed to think I would want to look round some; and he
+walked sort o' slow, out of courtesy. But, good land! how little that
+hired man knew my feelin's, as he led me on, I a thinkin' to myself,--
+
+“Here I am, a steppin' where G. Washington strode.” Oh the grandeur
+of my feelin's! The nobility of 'em! and the quantity! Why, it was a
+perfect sight.
+
+But right into these exalted sentiments the hired man intruded with his
+frivolous remarks,--worse than frivolous.
+
+He says agin something about “not knowin' whether the President would be
+ready to receive me.”
+
+And I stepped down sudden from that lofty piller I had trod on in my
+mind, and says I,--
+
+“I tell you agin, I don't care whether he is dressed up or not. I come
+on principle, and I shall look at him through that eye, and no other.”
+
+“Wall,” says he, turnin' sort o' red agin (he was ashamed), “have you
+noticed the beauty of the didos?”
+
+But I kep' my head right up in the air nobly, and never turned to the
+right or the left; and says I,--
+
+“I don't see no beauty in cuttin' up didos, nor never did. I have heard
+that they did such things here in Washington, D.C., but I do not choose
+to have my attention drawed to 'em.”
+
+But I pondered a minute, and the word “meetin'-house” struck a fearful
+blow aginst my conscience;' and I says in milder axents,--
+
+“If I looked upon a dido at all, it would be, not with a human woman's
+eye, but the eye of a Methodist. My duty draws me:--point out the dido,
+and I will look at it through that one eye.”
+
+And he says, “I was a talkin' about the walls of this room.”
+
+And I says, “Why couldn't you say so in the first place? The idee of
+skairin' folks! or tryin' to,” I added; for I hain't easily skairt.
+
+The walls wus perfectly beautiful, and so wus the ceilin' and floors.
+There wuzn't a house in Jonesville that could compare with it, though
+we had painted our meetin-house over at a cost of upwards of 28 dollars.
+But it didn't come up to this--not half. President Arthur has got good
+taste; and I thought to myself, and I says to the hired man, as I looked
+round and see the soft richness and quiet beauty and grandeur of the
+surroundings,--
+
+“I had just as lives have him pick me out a calico dress as to pick it
+out myself. And that is sayin' a great deal,” says I. “I am always very
+putickuler in calico: richness and beauty is what I look out for, and
+wear.”
+
+Jest as I wus sayin' this, the hired man opened a door into a lofty,
+beautiful room; and says he,--
+
+“Step in here, madam, into the antick room, and I'll see if the
+President can see you;” and he started off sudden, bein' called. And I
+jest turned round and looked after him, for I wanted to enquire into
+it. I had heard of their cuttin' up anticks at Washington,--I had come
+prepared for it; but I didn't know as they was bold enough to come right
+out, and have rooms devoted to that purpose. And I looked all round the
+room before I ventured in. But it looked neat as a pin, and not a soul
+in there; and thinks'es I, “It hain't probable their day for cuttin' up
+anticks. I guess I'll venture.” So I went in.
+
+But I sot pretty near the edge of the chair, ready to jump at the first
+thing I didn't like. And I kep' a close holt of the boy. I felt that I
+was right in the midst of dangers. I had feared and foreboded,--oh,
+how I had feared and foreboded about the dangers and deep perils of
+Washington, D.C.! And here I wuz, the very first thing, invited right in
+broad daylight, with no excuse or any thing, right into a antick room.
+
+Oh, how thankful, how thankful I wuz, that Josiah Allen wuzn't there!
+
+I knew, as he felt a good deal of the time, an antick room was what he
+would choose out of all others. And I felt stronger than ever the deep
+resolve that Josiah Allen should not run. He must not be exposed to such
+dangers, with his mind as it wuz, and his heft. I felt that he would
+suckumb.
+
+And I wondered that President Arthur, who I had always heard was a
+perfect gentleman, should come to have a room called like that, but
+s'posed it was there when he went. I don't believe he'd countenance any
+thing of the kind.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this when the hired man come back, and said,--
+
+“The President would receive me.”
+
+“Wall,” says I calmly, “I am ready to be received.”
+
+So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room,
+kinder round, and red colored, with lots of elegant pictures and
+lookin'-glasses and books.
+
+The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and,
+good land! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed
+up slick--slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He
+had on a sort of a gray suit, and a rose-bud in his button-hole.
+
+He was a good-lookin' man, though he had a middlin' tired look in his
+kinder brown eyes as he looked up.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING THE PRESIDENT.]
+
+I had calculated to act noble on that occasion, as I appeared before him
+who stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W., and sot in the
+chair of the (nearly) angel Garfield. I had thought that likely as
+not, entirely unbeknown to me, I should soar right off into a eloquent
+oration. For I honored him as a President. I felt like neighborin' with
+him on account of his name--Allen! (That name I took at the alter of
+Jonesville, and pure love.)
+
+But how little can we calculate on future contingencies, or what we
+shall do when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I
+had said before on a similar occasion, these simple words, that yet mean
+so much, so much,--
+
+“Allen, I have come!”
+
+He, too, was overcome by his feelin's: I see he wuz. His face looked
+fairly solemn; but, as he is a perfect gentleman, he controlled himself,
+and said quietly these words, that, too, have a deep import,--
+
+“I see you have.”
+
+He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady.
+And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip
+holt of the same hellum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm
+when I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.
+
+I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent
+chair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds,--I hain't vain,
+but I like to look well,--and then I at once told him of my errents. I
+told him--
+
+“I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,--one for myself,
+and two for Dorlesky Burpy.”
+
+He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always looks
+tired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-chores done,
+so it didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my own
+errent first, consequently I tackled him.
+
+I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.
+
+And he said, “he had heard of it.”
+
+And I says, “I s'pose so. I s'pose such things will spread, bein' a sort
+of a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and all
+round.”
+
+“Yes,” he said, “it was spoke of a good deal.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “the cast-iron love and devotion I feel for that man
+don't show off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up
+strongest in dangers and troubles.” And then I went on to tell him how
+Josiah wanted to come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had
+always heard Washington wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for
+me to lay down on my goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety,
+while my pardner was a grapplin' with dangers of which I did not know
+the exact size and heft. And so I had made up my mind to come ahead of
+him, as a forerunner on a tower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and
+see if I dast trust my companion there. “And now,” says I, “I want you
+to tell me candid,” says I. “Your settin' in George Washington's high
+chair makes me look up to you. It is a sightly place; you can see
+fur: your name bein' Allen makes me feel sort o' confidential and good
+towards you, and I want you to talk real honest and candid with me.”
+ Says I solemnly, “I ask you, Allen, not as a politician, but as a human
+bein', would you dast to let Josiah come?”
+
+Says he, “The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on
+what sort of a man it is that comes.” Then was a tryin' time for me. I
+would not lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even
+from myself. So I says,--
+
+“He is a man that has traits and qualities, and sights of 'em.”
+
+But thinkin' that I must do so, if I got true information of dangers,
+I went on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered
+dangerous to himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my
+dark forebodin's about it.
+
+The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what
+I had always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him
+all his political views and aspirations, and offered his help to the
+Government. And says he, “I think I know all about the man.”
+
+“Then,” says I, “you see he is a good deal like other men.”
+
+And he said, sort o' dreamily, “that he was.”
+
+And then agin silence rained. He was a thinkin', I knew, on all the deep
+dangers that hedged in Josiah Allen and America if he come. And a musin'
+on all the probable dangers of the Plan. And a thinkin' it over how
+to do jest right in the matter,--right by Josiah, right by the nation,
+right by me.
+
+Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and I
+says in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense,--
+
+“Would it be safe for my pardner to come to Washington? Would it be safe
+for Josiah, safe for the nation?” Says I, in deeper, mournfuler tones,--
+
+“Would you--would you dast to let him come?”
+
+He said, sort o' dreamily, “that those views and aspirations of Josiah's
+wasn't really needed at Washington, they had plenty of them there;
+and”--
+
+But I says, “I _must_ have a plainer answer to ease my mind and heart.
+Do tell me plain,--would you dast?”
+
+He looked full at me. He has got good, honest-looking eyes, and a
+sensible, candid look onto him. He liked me,--I knew he did from his
+looks,--a calm, Methodist-Episcopal likin',--nothin' light.
+
+And I see in them eyes that he didn't like Josiah's political idees. I
+see that he was afraid, as afraid as death of that plan; and I see that
+he considered Washington a dangerous, dangerous place for grangers and
+Josiah Allens to be a roamin' round in. I could see that he dreaded
+the sufferin's for me and for the nation if the Hon. Josiah Allen was
+elected.
+
+[Illustration: “WOULD YOU DAST?”]
+
+But still, he seemed to hate to speak; and wise, cautious conservatism,
+and gentlemanly dignity, was wrote down on his linement. Even the
+red rosebud in his button-hole looked dretful good-natured, but
+close-mouthed.
+
+I don't know as he would have spoke at all agin, if I hadn't uttered
+once more them soul-harrowin' words, “_Would you dast?_”
+
+Pity and good feelin' then seemed to overpower for a moment the
+statesman and courteous diplomat.
+
+And he said in gentle, gracious tones, “If I tell you just what I think,
+I would not like to say it officially, but would say it in confidence,
+as from an Allen to an Allen.”
+
+Says I, “It sha'n't go no further.”
+
+And so I would warn everybody that it must _not_ be told.
+
+Then says he, “I will tell you. I wouldn't dast.”
+
+Says I, “That settles it. If human efforts can avail, Josiah Allen will
+not be United-States senator.” And says I, “You have only confirmed my
+fears. I knew, feelin' as he felt, that it wuzn't safe for Josiah or the
+nation to have him come.”
+
+Agin he reminded me that it was told to me in confidence, and agin I
+want to say that it _must_ be kep'.
+
+I thanked him for his kindness. He is a perfect gentleman; and he told
+me jest out of courtesy and politeness, and I know it. And I can be
+very polite too. And I am naturally one of the kindest-hearted of
+Jonesvillians.
+
+So I says to him, “I won't forget your kindness to me; and I want to say
+right here, that Josiah and me both think well on you--first-rate.”
+
+Says he with a sort of a tired look, as if he wus a lookin' back over a
+hard road, “I have honestly tried to do the best I could.”
+
+Says I, “I believe it.” And wantin' to encourage him still more, says
+I,--
+
+“Josiah believes it, and Dorlesky Burpy, and lots of other
+Jonesvillians.” Says I, “To set down in a chair that an angel has jest
+vacated, a high chair under the full glare of critical inspection, is
+a tegus place. I don't s'pose Garfield was really an angel, but his
+sufferin's and martyrdom placed him almost in that light before the
+world.
+
+“And you have filled that chair, and filled it well. With dignity and
+courtesy and prudence. And we have been proud of you, Josiah and me both
+have.”
+
+He brightened up: he had been afraid, I could see, that we wuzn't suited
+with him. And it took a load offen him. His linement looked clearer than
+it had, and brighter.
+
+“And now,” says I, sithin' a little, “I have got to do Dorlesky's
+errents.”
+
+He, too, sithed. His linement fell. I pitied him, and would gladly have
+refrained from troubling him more. But duty hunched me; and when she
+hunches, I have to move forward.
+
+Says I in measured tones, each tone measurin' jest about the same,--half
+duty, and half pity for him,--
+
+“Dorlesky Burpy sent these errents to you. She wanted intemperance done
+away with--the Whiskey Ring broke right up. She wanted you to drink
+nothin' stronger than root-beer when you had company to dinner, she
+offerin' to send you a receipt for it from Jonesville; and she wanted
+her rights, and she wanted 'em all this week without fail.”
+
+He sithed hard. And never did I see a linement fall further than his
+linement fell. I pitied him. I see it wus a hard stent for him, to do it
+in the time she had sot.
+
+And I says, “I think myself that Dorlesky is a little onreasonable. I
+myself am willin' to wait till next week. But she has suffered dretfully
+from intemperance, dretfully from the Rings, and dretfully from want of
+Rights. And her sufferin's have made her more voyalent in her demands,
+and impatienter.”
+
+And then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent. But my
+promise weighed on me, and Duty poked me in the side. I wus determined
+to do the errent jest as I would wish a errent done for me, from
+borryin' a drawin' of tea to tacklin' the nation, and tryin' to get a
+little mess of truth and justice out of it.
+
+“Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do these things, she
+would have you removed from the Presidential chair, and you should
+never, never, be President agin.”
+
+He trembled, he trembled like a popple-leaf. And I felt as if I should
+sink: it seemed to me jest as if Dorlesky wus askin' too much of him,
+and was threatenin' too hard.
+
+And bein' one that loves truth, I told him that Dorlesky was middlin'
+disagreeable, and very humbly, but she needed her rights jest as much as
+if she was a dolly. And then I went on and told him all how she and her
+relations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she had
+suffered from the Ring, till I declare, a talkin about them little
+children of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin' as
+Dorlesky herself; and entirely unbeknown to myself, I talked powerful on
+intemperance and Rings--and sound.
+
+When I got down agin onto my feet, I see he had a sort of a worried,
+anxious look; and he says,--
+
+“The laws of the United States are such, that I can't interfere.”
+
+“Then,” says I, “why don't you _make_ the United States do right?”
+
+And he said somethin' about the might of the majority and the powerful
+rings.
+
+And that sot me off agin. And I talked very powerful, kinder allegored,
+about allowin' a ring to be put round the United States, and let a lot
+of whiskey-dealers lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels.
+Says I, “How does it look before the Nations, to see Columbia led round
+half tipsy by a Ring?”
+
+He seemed to think it looked bad, I knew by his looks.
+
+Says I, “Intemperance is bad for Dorlesky, and bad for the Nation.”
+
+He murmured somethin' about the “revenue that the liquor-trade brought
+to the Government.”
+
+But I says, “Every penny they give, is money right out of the people's
+pockets; and every dollar that the people pay into the liquor-traffic,
+that they may give a few cents of it into the Treasury, is costin'
+the people three times that dollar, in the loss that intemperance
+entails,--loss of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do any thing
+but wobble and stagger round; loss of wealth, by all the enormous losses
+of property and of taxation, of almshouses and madhouses, jails, police
+forces, paupers' coffins, and the digging of the thousands and thousands
+of graves that are filled yearly by them that reel into 'em.” Says I,
+“Wouldn't it be better for the people to pay that dollar in the first
+place into the Treasury, than to let it filter through the dram-seller's
+hands, and 2 or 3 cents of it fall into the National purse at last,
+putrid, and heavy with all these losses and curses and crimes and shames
+and despairs and agonies?”
+
+He seemed to think it would: I see by the looks of his linement, he did.
+Every honorable man feels so in his heart; and yet they let the liquor
+ring control 'em, and lead 'em round.
+
+Says I, “All the intellectual and moral power of the United States are
+jest rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring, and are being drove
+by the whiskey-dealers jest where they want to drive 'em.” Says I, “It
+controls New-York village, and nobody pretends to deny it; and all the
+piety and philanthropy and culture and philosiphy of that village has
+to be jest drawed along in that Ring. And,” says I, in low but startlin'
+tones of principle,--
+
+“Where, where, is it a drawin' 'em to? Where is it a drawin' the hull
+nation to? Is it' a drawin' 'em down into a slavery ten times more
+abject and soul-destroyin' than African slavery ever was? Tell me,” says
+I firmly, “tell me.”
+
+His mean looked impressed, but he did not try to frame a reply. I think
+he could not find a frame. There is no frame to that reply. It is a
+conundrum as boundless as truth and God's justice, and as solemnly deep
+in its sure consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as
+that is.
+
+Agin I says, “Where is that Ring a drawin' the United States? Where is
+it a drawin' Dorlesky?”
+
+“Oh! Dorlesky!” says he, a comin' up out of his deep reveryin', but
+polite,--a politer demeanerd, gentlemanly appeariner man I don't want to
+see. “Ah, yes! I would be glad, Josiah Allen's wife, to do her errent. I
+think Dorlesky is justified in asking to have the Ring destroyed. But I
+am not the one to go to--I am not the one to do her errent.”
+
+Says I, “Who is the man, or men?”
+
+Says he, “James G. Blaine.”
+
+Says I, “Is that so? I will go right to James G. Blaineses.”
+
+So I spoke to the boy. He had been all engaged lookin' out of the
+winders, but he was willin' to go.
+
+And the President took the boy upon his knee, wantin' to do something
+agreeable, I s'pose, seein' he couldn't do the errent. And he says, jest
+to make himself pleasant to the boy,--
+
+“Well, my little man, are you a Republican, or Democrat?”
+
+“I am a Epispocal.”
+
+And seein' the boy seemed to be headed onto theoligy instead of
+politics, and wantin' to kinder show him off, I says,--
+
+“Tell the gentleman who made you.”
+
+He spoke right up prompt, as if hurryin' to get through theoligy, so's
+to tackle sunthin' else. He answered as exhaustively as an exhauster
+could at a meetin',--
+
+“I was made out of dust, and breathed into. I am made out of God and
+dirt.”
+
+Oh, how deep, how deep that child is! I never had heard him say that
+before. But how true it wuz! The divine and the human, linked so close
+together from birth till death. No philosipher that ever philosiphized
+could go deeper or higher.
+
+I see the President looked impressed. But the boy branched off quick,
+for he seemed fairly burstin' with questions.
+
+[Illustration: “I AM A EPISPOCAL.”]
+
+“_Say,_ what is this house called the White House for? Is it because it
+is to help white folks, and not help the black ones, and Injins?”
+
+I declare, I almost thought the boy had heard sunthin' about the
+elections in the South, and the Congressional vote for cuttin' down
+the money for the Indian schools. Legislative action to perpetuate the
+ignorance and brutality of a race.
+
+The President said dreamily, “No, it wasn't for that.”
+
+“Well, is it called white like the gate of the City is? Mamma said that
+was white,--a pearl, you know,--because every thing was pure and white
+inside the City. Is it because the laws that are made here are all white
+and good? And _say_”--
+
+Here his eyes looked dark and big with excitement.
+
+“What is George Washington up on top of that big white piller for?”
+
+“He was a great man.”
+
+“How much did he weigh? How many yards did it take for his vest--forty?”
+
+“He did great and noble deeds--he fought and bled.”
+
+“If fighting makes folks great, why did mamma punish me when I fought
+with Jim Gowdey? He stole my jack-knife, and knocked me down, and set
+down on me, and took my chewing-gum away from me, and chewed it himself.
+And I rose against him, and we fought and bled: my nose bled, and so
+did his. But I got it away from him, and chewed it myself. But mamma
+punished me, and said; God wouldn't love me if I quarrelled so, and if
+we couldn't agree, we must get somebody to settle our trouble for us.
+Why didn't she stand me up on a big white pillow out in the door-yard,
+and be proud of me, and not shut me up in a dark closet?”
+
+“He fought for Liberty.”
+
+“Did he get it?”
+
+“He fought that the United States might be free.”
+
+“Is it free?”
+
+The President waved off that question, and the boy kep' on.
+
+“Is it true what you have been talkin' about,--is there a great big ring
+put all round it, and is it bein' drawed along into a mean place?”
+
+[Illustration: WAR DECLARED.]
+
+And then the boy's eyes grew black with excitement; and he kep' right on
+without waitin' for breath, or for a answer,--
+
+“He had heard it talked about, was it right to let anybody do wrong for
+money? Did the United States do it? Did it make mean things right? If
+it did, he wanted to get one of Tom Gowdy's white rats. He wouldn't sell
+it, and he wanted it. His mother wouldn't let him steal it; but if the
+United States could _make_ it right for him to do wrong, he had got ten
+cents of his own, and he'd buy the right to get that white rat. And if
+Tom wanted to cry about it, let him. If the United States sold him the
+right to do it, he guessed he could do it, no matter how much whimperin'
+there was, and no matter who said it was wrong. _He wanted the rat_.”
+
+But I see the President's eyes, which had looked kinder rested when he
+took him up, grew bigger and bigger with surprise and anxiety. I guess
+he thought he had got his day's work in front of him. And I told the boy
+we must go. And then I says to the President,--
+
+“That I knew he was quite a traveller, and of course he wouldn't want
+to die without seein' Jonesville;” and says I, “Be sure to come to our
+house to supper when you come.” Says I, “I can't reccomend the huntin'
+so much; there haint nothin' more excitin' to shoot than red squirrels
+and chipmunks: but there is quite good fishin' in the creek back of our
+house; they ketched 4 horned Asa's there last week, and lots of chubs.”
+
+He smiled real agreable, and said, “when he visited Jonesville, he
+wouldn't fail to take tea with me.”
+
+Says I, “So do; and, if you get lost, you jest enquire at the Corners of
+old Grout Nickleson, and he will set you right.”
+
+He smiled agin, and said “he wouldn't fail to enquire if he got lost.”
+
+And then I shook hands with him, thinkin' it would be expected of me
+(his hands are white, and not much bigger than Tirzah Ann's). And then I
+removed the boy by voyalence, for he was a askin' questions agin, faster
+than ever; and he poured out over his shoulder a partin' dribble of
+questions, that lasted till we got outside. And then he tackled me, and
+he asked me somewhere in the neighborhood of a 1,000 questions on the
+way back to Miss Smiths'es.
+
+He begun agin on George Washington jest as quick as he ketched sight of
+his monument agin.
+
+“If George Washington is up on the top of that monument for tellin' the
+truth, why didn't all the big men try to tell the truth so's to be stood
+up on pillows outdoors, and not be a layin' down in the grass? And did
+the little hatchet help him do right? If it did, why didn't all the big
+men wear them in their belts to do right with, and tell the truth with?
+And _say_”--
+
+Oh, dear me suz! He asked me over 40 questions to a lamp-post, for I
+counted 'em; and there wuz 18 posts.
+
+Good land! I'd ruther wash than try to answer him; but he looked so
+sweet and good-natured and confidin', his eyes danced so, and he was so
+awful pretty, that I felt in the midst of my deep fag, that I could kiss
+him right there in the street if it wuzn't for the looks of it: he is a
+beautiful child, and very deep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Wall, after dinner I sot sail for James G. Blains'es, a walkin' afoot,
+and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. I was determined to do that errent
+before I slept. I am very obleegin', and am called so.
+
+When I got to Mr. Blaines'es, I was considerably tired; for though
+Dorlesky's errent might not be heavy as weighed by the steelyards, yet
+it was _very_ hefty and wearin' on the moral feelin's. And my firm,
+unalterable determination to carry it straight, and tend to it, to the
+very utmost of my ability, strained on me.
+
+I was fagged.
+
+But I don't believe Mr. Blaine see the fag. I shook hands with him, and
+there was calmness in that shake. I passed the compliments of the
+day (how do you do, etc.), and there was peace and dignity in them
+compliments.
+
+He was most probable, glad I had come. But he didn't seem quite so
+over-rejoiced as he probable would if he hadn't been so busy. _I_ can't
+be so highly tickled when company comes, when I am washin' and cleanin'
+house.
+
+He had piles and piles of papers on the table before him. And there was
+a gentleman a settin' at the end of the room a readin'.
+
+I like James G. Blaines'es looks middlin' well. Although, like myself,
+he don't set up for a professional beauty. It seems as if some of the
+strength of the mountain pines round his old home is a holdin' up his
+backbone, and some of the bracin' air of the pine woods of Maine has
+blowed into James'es intellect, and braced it.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING JAMES G. BLAINE.]
+
+I think enough of James, but not too much. My likin' is jest about
+strong enough from a literary person to a literary person.
+
+We are both literary, very. He is considerable taller than I am; and on
+that account, and a good many others, I felt like lookin' up to him.
+
+Wall, when I have got a hard job in front of me, I don't know any better
+way than to tackle it to once. So consequently I tackled it.
+
+I told James, that Dorlesky Burpy had sent two errents by me, and I had
+brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+
+And then I told him jest how she had suffered from the Whisky Ring,
+and how she had suffered from not havin' her rights; and I told him all
+about her relations sufferin', and that Dorlesky wanted the Ring broke,
+and her rights gin to her, within seven days at the longest.
+
+He rubbed his brow thoughtfully, and says,--
+
+“It will be difficult to accomplish so much in so short a time.”
+
+“I know it,” says I. “I told Dorlesky it would. But she feels jest so,
+and I promised to do her errent; and I am a doin' it.”
+
+Agin he rubbed his brow in deep thought, and agin he says,--
+
+“I don't think Dorlesky is unreasonable in her demands, only in the
+length of time she has set.”
+
+Says I, “That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could
+do her errents this week. But you can see for yourself that she is
+right, only in the time she has sot.”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “He see she wuz.” And says he, “I wish the 3 could be
+reconciled.”
+
+“What 3?” says I.
+
+Says he, “The liquor traffic, liberty, and Dorlesky.”
+
+And then come the very hardest part of my errent. But I had to do it, I
+had to.
+
+Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't
+the woman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the
+wrong tones at the wrong times--no, I used my deepest and most skairful
+one--says I, “Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do her
+errent, you should not be the next President of the United States.”
+
+He turned pale. He looked agitated, fearful agitated.
+
+I s'pose it was not only my words and tone that skairt him, but my
+mean. I put on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble,
+high-headed mean at times. I got it, I think, in the first place, by
+overlookin' Josiah's faults. I always said a wife ort to overlook her
+husband's faults; and I have to overlook so many, that it has made me
+about as high-headed, sometimes, as a warlike gander, but more sort o'
+meller-lookin', and sublime, kinder.
+
+He stood white as a piece of a piller-case, and seemin'ly plunged down
+into the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and
+says he,--
+
+“I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. And
+while I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the
+same time I do want to be--if you'll understand that paradox,” says he.
+
+“Yes,” says I sadly. “I understand that paradox. I have seen it myself,
+right in my own family.” And I sithed. And agin silence rained; and I
+sot quietly in the rain, thinkin' mebby good would come of it.
+
+Finally he riz out of his revery; and says he, with a brighter look on
+his linement,--
+
+“I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent.”
+
+“Who is the one?” says I.
+
+“Senator Logan,” says he.
+
+Says I, “I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get
+back; for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over
+Washington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub
+is trusty: I'll send him.” And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a
+gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort
+of a noble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen
+in 'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further.
+
+But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him
+that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves.
+
+But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman
+in the room,--
+
+“This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for
+you.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “I would be glad to get it done, without goin' any
+further. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots of
+other wimmen.”
+
+Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaine
+introduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blaine
+spoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick it
+up; and then he shook hands with me: and Mr. Blaine said good-bye to me,
+and started off.
+
+I felt willin' and glad to have this senator do Dorlesky's errents, but
+I didn't like his looks from the very first minute I sot my eyes on him.
+
+My land! talk about Dorlesky Burpy bein' disagreable--he wus as
+disagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of
+his eyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more
+close than that. He was some bald-headed, and he kinder smiled once in
+a while: I persume he will be known by this description. It is plain,
+anyway, almost lucid.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BLAINE INTRODUCING THE SENATOR.]
+
+But his baldness didn't look to me like Josiah Allen's baldness; and he
+didn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or the
+perfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised
+him from the first minute.
+
+Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for his
+mean. Truly, as Josiah Allen says, I don't like to see anybody too good.
+
+He drawed a chair up, for me and for himself, and asked me,--
+
+“If he should have the inexpressible honor and the delightful joy of
+aiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it,” or words to that
+effect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want
+to if I could.
+
+But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly
+in front of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all
+of Dorlesky's errents. And how I had brought 'em from Jonesville on my
+tower. I told over all of her sufferin's, from the Ring, and from not
+havin' her rights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's;
+and all her aunt Eunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's,
+sufferin's. I did her errent up honorable and square, as I would love
+to have a errent done for me. I told him all the particulers; and as I
+finished, I said firmly,--
+
+“Now, can you do Dorlesky's errents? and will you?”
+
+He leaned forward with that deceitful and sort of disagreable smile of
+hisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fashion;
+and he took up the tab, and says he, in a low, insinuatin' voice, and
+lookin' close at the edge of the tab,--
+
+“Am I mistaken, or is this pipein'? or can it be Kensington tattin'?”
+
+I jest drawed the tab back coldly, and never dained a reply.
+
+Again he says, in a tone of amiable anxiety,--
+
+“Have I not heard a rumor that bangs were going out of style? I see you
+do not wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen
+are lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them.” And he sithed.
+“_You_ are very beautiful.” And he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful,
+love-sick sithe.
+
+I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing
+against her stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me
+by his talk or his sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad,
+injured look, as if my coldness wus ondoin' of him,--
+
+“My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however
+carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you
+a leaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the
+traits and habits of our American wad?”
+
+“What?” says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by
+just indignation, can stand only jest so much strain. “The what?”
+
+“The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that
+tailors make so much use of.”
+
+Says I, “Do you mean waddin' 8 cents a sheet?”
+
+“8 cents a pelt--yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the
+hardy habits of the animal.”
+
+Says I, “Cease instantly. I will hear no more.”
+
+Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and the little talk that
+statesmen will use to wimmen, and I had heard much of their lies, etc.;
+but truly, I felt that the 1/2 had not been told. And then I thought out
+loud, and says,--
+
+“I have hearn how laws of right and justice are sot one side in
+Washington, D.C., as bein' too triflin' to attend to, while the
+legislators pondered over, and passed laws regardin', hens' eggs and
+birds' nests. But this is goin' too fur--too fur. But,” says I firmly,
+“I shall do Dorlesky's errents, and do 'em to the best of my ability;
+and you can't draw off my attention from her sufferin's and her
+suffragin's by talkin' about wads.”
+
+“I would love to obleege Dorlesky,” says he, “because she belongs to
+such a lovely sex. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that
+ever walked the earth: they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses.”
+
+Says I firmly, “That hain't no such thing. They are disagreable creeters
+a good deal of the time. They hain't no better than men. But they ought
+to have their rights all the same. Now, Dorlesky is disagreable, and
+kinder fierce actin', and jest as humbly as they make wimmen; but that
+hain't no sign she ort to be imposed upon. Josiah says, 'She hadn't ort
+to have a right, not a single right, because she is so humbly.' But I
+don't feel so.”
+
+“Who is Josiah?” says he.
+
+Says I, “My husband.”
+
+“Ah! your husband! yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of
+rights. They do not need rights, they need freedom from all cares and
+sufferings. Sweet, lovely beings, let them have husbands to lift them
+above all earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes,” says he,
+liftin' his eyes to the heavens, and kinder shettin' 'em, some as if he
+was goin' into a trance, “fly around, ye angels, in your native haunts!
+mingle not with rings, and vile laws; flee away, flee above them.”
+
+And he kinder moved his hand back and forth, in a floatin' fashion, up
+in the air, as if it was a woman a flyin' up there, smooth and serene.
+It would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn't me. I says
+reasonably,--
+
+“Dorlesky would have been glad to flew above 'em. But the ring and the
+vile laws laid holt of her, unbeknown to her, and dragged her down.
+And there she is, all dragged and bruised and brokenhearted by it. She
+didn't meddle with the political ring, but the ring meddled with her.
+How can she fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is a holdin'
+her down?”
+
+[Illustration: “FLY AROUND, YE ANGELS.”]
+
+“Ahem!” says he. “Ahem, as it were--as I was saying, my dear madam,
+these angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty, to
+mingle with the rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them
+as they are now: we are willing to stand the rude buffetings
+of--of--voting, in order to guard these sweet, delicate creatures from
+any hardships. Sweet, tender beings, we would fain guard you--ah, yes!
+ah, yes!”
+
+[Illustration: WOMAN'S RIGHTS.]
+
+Says I, “Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase; for such talk
+is like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral stomach.” Says I, “You know,
+and I know, that these angelic, tender bein's, half clothed, fill our
+streets on icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and
+sons. They are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want
+liquor-drinkin' entails. They are starved, they are frozen, they are
+beaten, they are made childless and hopeless, by drunken husbands
+killing their own flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves, and
+are drowned by drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death,
+by drunken engineers; they go up on the scaffold, and die of crimes
+committed by the direct aid of this agent of hell.
+
+[Illustration: SOMEBODY BLUNDERED.]
+
+“Wimmen had ruther be a flyin' round than to do all this, but they
+can't. If men really believe all they say about wimmen, and I think some
+of 'em do, in a dreamy way--if wimmen are angels, give 'em the rights of
+angels. Who ever heard of a angel foldin' up her wings, and goin' to a
+poorhouse or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever heard
+of a angel bein' dragged off to a police court by a lot of men, for
+fightin' to defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that
+had broke her wings, and blacked her eyes, himself, got the angel into
+the fight, and then she got throwed into the streets and the prison by
+it? Who ever heard of a angel havin' to take in washin' to support a
+drunken son or father or husband? Who ever heard of a angel goin' out as
+wet nurse to get money to pay taxes on her home to a Government that in
+theory idolizes her, and practically despises her, and uses that same
+money in ways abomenable to that angel?
+
+“If you want to be consistent--if you are bound to make angels of
+wimmen, you ort to furnish a free, safe place for 'em to soar in. You
+ort to keep the angels from bein' meddled with, and bruised, and killed,
+etc.”
+
+“Ahem,” says he. “As it were, ahem.”
+
+But I kep' right on, for I begun to feel noble and by the side of
+myself.
+
+“This talk about wimmen bein' outside and above all participation in the
+laws of her country, is jest as pretty as I ever heard any thing, and
+jest as simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes
+into the street, and say, 'Some of 'em are female flakes, and mustn't
+be trampled on.' The great march of life tramples on 'em all alike: they
+fall from one common sky, and are trodden down into one common ground.
+
+“Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human
+needs and weaknesses, needin' the same heavenly light, and the same
+human aids and helps. The law should meet out to them the same rewards
+and punishments.
+
+“Dorlesky says you call wimmens angels, and you don't give 'em the
+rights of the lowest beasts that crawls upon the earth. And Dorlesky
+told me to tell you that she didn't ask the rights of a angel: she would
+be perfectly contented and proud if you would give her the rights of a
+dog--the assured political rights of a yeller dog. She said 'yeller;'
+and I am bound on doin' her errent jest as she wanted me to, word for
+word.
+
+“A dog, Dorlesky says, don't have to be hung if it breaks the laws it
+is not allowed any hand in making. A dog don't have to pay taxes on its
+bone to a Government that withholds every right of citizenship from it.
+
+“A dog hain't called undogly if it is industrious, and hunts quietly
+round for its bone to the best of its ability, and wants to get its
+share of the crumbs that fall from that table that bills are laid on.
+
+“A dog hain't preached to about its duty to keep home sweet and sacred,
+and then see that home turned into a place of torment under laws that
+these very preachers have made legal and respectable.
+
+“A dog don't have to see its property taxed to advance laws that it
+believes ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the hearts of other
+dear dogs.
+
+“A dog don't have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that
+deny it freedom and justice--about its bein' a damosk rose, and a
+seraphine, when it knows it hain't: it knows, if it knows any thing,
+that it is a dog.
+
+“You see, Dorlesky has been kinder embittered by her trials that
+politics, corrupt legislation, has brought right onto her. She didn't
+want nothin' to do with 'em; but they come right onto her unexpected and
+unbeknown, and she feels jest so. She feels she must do every thing she
+can to alter matters. She wants to help make the laws that have such
+a overpowerin' influence over her, herself. She believes from her soul
+that they can't be much worse than they be now, and may be a little
+better.”
+
+“Ah! if Dorlesky wishes to influence political affairs, let her
+influence her children,--her boys,--and they will carry her benign and
+noble influence forward into the centuries.”
+
+“But the law has took her boy, her little boy and girl, away from her.
+Through the influence of the Whisky Ring, of which her husband was a
+shinin' member, he got possession of her boy. And so, the law has made
+it perfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him. What
+Dorlesky does, she must do herself.”
+
+“Ah! A sad thing for Dorlesky. I trust that you have no grievance of the
+kind, I trust that your estimable husband is--as it were, estimable.”
+
+“Yes, Josiah Allen is a good man. As good as men _can_ be. You know, men
+or wimmen either can't be only jest about so good anyway. But he is my
+choice, and he don't drink a drop.”
+
+“Pardon me, madam; but if you are happy, as you say, in your marriage
+relations, and your husband is a temperate, good man, why do you feel so
+upon this subject?”
+
+“Why, good land! if you understand the nature of a woman, you would know
+that my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel about
+him, and our boy, makes me realize the sufferin's of Dorlesky in havin'
+her husband and boy lost to her, makes me realize the depth of a wive's,
+of a mother's, agony, when she sees the one she loves goin' down, goin'
+down so low that she can't reach him; makes me feel how she must yearn
+to help him in some safe, sure way.
+
+“High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman's
+life is, the more does she feel for them who are less blessed than she.
+Highest love goes lowest, if need be. Witness the love that left Heaven,
+and descended onto the earth, and into it, that He might lift up the
+lowly.
+
+“The pityin' words of Him who went about pleasin' not himself, hants me,
+and inspires me. I am sorry for Dorlesky, sorry for the hull wimmen
+race of the nation--and for the men too. Lots of 'em are good
+creeters--better than wimmen, some on 'em. They want to do jest about
+right, but don't exactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times,
+some of the masters was more to be pitied than the slaves. They could
+see the injustice, feel the wrong, they was doin'; but old chains of
+custom bound 'em, social customs and idees had hardened into habits of
+thought.
+
+“They realized the size and heft of the evil, but didn't know how to
+grapple with it, and throw it.
+
+“So now, many men see the great evils of this time, want to help it, but
+don't know the best way to lay holt of it.
+
+“Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try
+to get the right answer to it as fur as we can. Dorlesky feels that one
+of the answers to the conundrum is in gettin' her rights. She feels jest
+so.
+
+“I myself have got all the rights I need, or want, as fur as my own
+happiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half wooden
+one, but dear).
+
+“My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give social
+happiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property
+enough, and more than enough, for all the comforts of life. And, above
+all other things, my Josiah is my love and my theme.”
+
+“Ah! yes!” says he. “Love is a woman's empire, and in that she should
+find her full content--her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman
+will not look outside of that lovely and safe and beautious empire.”
+
+Says I firmly, “If she hain't a idiot, she can't help it. Love is the
+most beautiful thing on earth, the most holy, the most satisfyin'. But
+which would you like best--I do not ask you as a politician, but as a
+human bein'--which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest,
+tender nature--for in man or woman, 'the strongest are the tenderest,
+the loving are the daring'--which would you like best, the love and
+respect of such a nature, full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite
+variety, or the love of a fool?
+
+“A fool's love is wearin': it is insipid at the best, and it turns to
+viniger. Why! sweetened water _must_ turn to viniger: it is its nater.
+And, if a woman is bright and true-hearted, she can't help seem' through
+a injustice. She may be happy in her own home. Domestic affection,
+social enjoyments, the delights of a cultured home and society, and the
+companionship of the man she loves, and who loves her, will, if she is
+a true woman, satisfy fully her own personal needs and desires; and she
+would far rather, for her own selfish happiness, rest quietly in that
+love--that most blessed home.
+
+“But the bright, quick intellect that delights you, can't help seeing
+through an injustice, can't help seeing through shams of all kinds--sham
+sentiment, sham compliments, sham justice.
+
+“The tender, lovin' nature that blesses your life, can't help feelin'
+pity for those less blessed than herself. She looks down through the
+love-guarded lattice of her home,--from which your care would fain bar
+out all sights of woe and squalor,--she looks down, and sees the weary
+toilers below, the hopeless, the wretched; she sees the steep hills they
+have to climb, carry in' their crosses; she sees 'em go down into the
+mire, dragged there by the love that should lift 'em up.
+
+“She would not be the woman you love, if she could restrain her hand
+from liftin' up the fallen, wipin' tears from weepin' eyes, speakin'
+brave words for them who can't speak for themselves.
+
+“The very strength of her affection that would hold you up, if you were
+in trouble or disgrace, yearns to help all sorrowin' hearts.
+
+“Down in your heart, you can't help admirin' her for this: we can't help
+respectin' the one who advocates the right, the true, even if they are
+our conquerors.
+
+“Wimmen hain't angels: now, to be candid, you know they hain't. They
+hain't better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems
+curious to me, that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort
+to be more honest and open than wimmen. They hain't had to cajole and
+wheedle, and spile their natures, through little trickeries and deceits,
+and indirect ways, that wimmen has.
+
+“Why, cramp a tree-limb, and see if it will grow as straight and
+vigorous as it would in full freedom and sunshine.
+
+“Men ort to be nobler than wimmen, sincerer, braver. And they ort to be
+ashamed of this one trick of theirn; for they know they hain't honest in
+it, they hain't generous.
+
+“Give wimmen 2 or 3 generations of moral freedom, and see if men will
+laugh at 'em for their little deceits and affectations.
+
+“No: men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler; and they will both come
+nearer bein' angels, though most probable they won't be angels: they
+won't be any too good then, I hain't a mite afraid of it.”
+
+He kinder sithed; and that sithe sort o' brought me down onto my feet
+agin (as it were), and a sense of my duty: and I spoke out agin,--
+
+“Can you, and will you, do Dorlesky's errents?”
+
+[Illustration: THE WEARY TOILERS OF LIFE.]
+
+Wall, he said, “as far as giving Dorlesky her rights was concerned, he
+felt that natural human instinct was against the change.” He said, “in
+savage races, who knew nothing of civilization, male force and strength
+always ruled.”
+
+Says I, “History can't be disputed; and history tells of savage races
+where the wimmen always rule, though I don't think they ort to,” says I:
+“ability and goodness ort to rule.”
+
+“Nature is against it,” says he.
+
+Says I firmly, “Female bees, and lots of other insects, and animals,
+always have a female for queen and ruler. They rule blindly and
+entirely, right on through the centuries. But we are more enlightened,
+and should _not_ encourage it. In my opinion, a male bee has jest as
+good a right to be monarch as his female companion has. That is,” says I
+reasonably, “if he knows as much, and is as good a calculator as she is.
+I love justice, I almost worship it.”
+
+Agin he sithed; and says he, “Modern history don't seem to encourage the
+skeme.”
+
+But his axent was weak, weak as a cat. He knew better.
+
+Says I, “We won't argue long on that point, for I could overwhelm you if
+I approved of overwhelmin'. But I merely ask you to cast your right
+eye over into England, and then beyond it into France. Men have ruled
+exclusively in France for the last 40 or 50 years, and a woman in
+England: which realm has been the most peaceful and prosperous?”
+
+He sithed twice. And he bowed his head upon his breast, in a sad, almost
+meachin' way. I nearly pitied him, disagreable as he wuz. When all of a
+sudden he brightened up; and says he,--
+
+“You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible is
+aginst the idee. The Bible teaches man's supremacy, man's absolute power
+and might and authority.”
+
+“Why, how you talk!” says I. “Why, in the very first chapter, the Bible
+tells how man was jest turned right round by a woman. It teaches how she
+not only turned man right round to do as she wanted him to, but turned
+the hull world over.
+
+“That hain't nothin' I approve of: I don't speak of it because I like
+the idee. That wuzn't done in a open, honorable manner, as I believe
+things should be done. No: Eve ruled by indirect influence,--the 'gently
+influencing men' way, that politicians are so fond of. And she jest
+brought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it. A few years
+later, after men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen ruling
+Israel openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah, and other likely old
+4 mothers, why, things went on better. They didn't act meachin', and
+tempt, and act indirect, I'll bet, or I wouldn't be afraid to bet, if I
+approved of bettin'.”
+
+He sithed powerful, and sot round oneasy in his chair. And says he, “I
+thought wimmen was taught by the Bible to serve, and love their homes.”
+
+“So they be. And every true woman loves to serve. Home is my supreme
+happiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin' them I
+love. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors.”
+
+“Wall,” says he faintly, “the Old Testament may teach that wimmen has
+some strenth and power; but in the New Testament, you will find that in
+every great undertakin' and plan, men have been chosen by God to carry
+it through.”
+
+“Why-ee!” says I. “How you talk!” says I. “Have you ever read the
+Bible?”
+
+He said “He had, his grandmother owned one. And he had seen it in early
+youth.”
+
+And then he went on, sort o' apologizin', “He had always meant to read
+it through. But he had entered political life at an early age, and he
+believed he had never read any more of it, only portions of Gulliver's
+Travels. He believed,” he said, “he had read as far as Lilliputions.”
+
+Says I, “That hain't in the Bible,--you mean Gallatians.”
+
+“Wall,” he said, “that might be it. It was some man, he knew, and he had
+always heard and believed that man was the only worker God had chosen.”
+
+“Why,” says I, “the one great theme of the New Testament,--the
+redemption of the world through the birth of the Christ,--no man had
+any thing to do with that whatever. Our divine Lord was born of God and
+woman.
+
+“Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called
+women into that work,--the divine work of helpin' a world.
+
+“God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire for a world's
+work of sufferin' and renunciation. The soft airs of Gallilee wrapped
+her about in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams
+in maiden peace, dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and quiet and
+happiness.
+
+“From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy, innocent
+girlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin' to redeem a world
+from sin.
+
+“And did not this woman's love, and willin' obedience, and sufferin',
+and the shame of the world, set her apart, babtize her for this work of
+liftin' up the fallen, helpin' the weak?
+
+“Is it not a part of woman's life that she gave at the birth and the
+crucifixion?--her faith, her hope, her sufferin', her glow of divine
+pity and joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure
+heavenly, have they not for 1800 years been blessin' the world? The God
+in Christ would awe us too much: we would shield our faces from the too
+blindin' glare of the pure God-like. But the tender Christ, who wept
+over a sinful city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon
+the cross, to comfort his mother's heart, provide for her future--it is
+this element in our Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him,
+dare to kneel at His feet.
+
+“And since woman wus so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-worker
+with God in the beginnin' of a world's redemption; since He called her
+from the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace, into the blessed
+martyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin', all to help a world
+that cared nothing for her, that cried out shame upon her,--will He
+not help her to carry on the work that she helped commence? Will He not
+approve of her continuin' in it? Will He not protect her in it?
+
+“Yes: she cannot be harmed, since His care is over her; and the cause
+she loves, the cause of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too,
+and God will take care of His own. Herods full of greed, and frightened
+selfishness, may try to break her heart, by efforts to kill the child
+she loves; but she will hold it so close to her bosom, that he can't
+destroy it. And the light of the divine will go before her, showin'
+the way she must go, over the desert, maybe; but she shall bear it into
+safety.”
+
+“You spoke of Herod,” says he dreamily. “The name sounds familiar to me:
+was not Mr. Herod once in the United-States Congress?”
+
+“No,” says I. “He died some years ago. But he has relatives there now,
+I think, judging from recent laws. You ask who Herod was; and, as it all
+seems to be a new story to you, I will tell you. That when the Saviour
+of the world was born in Bethlehem, and a woman was tryin' to save
+His life, a man by the name of Herod was tryin' his best, out of
+selfishness, and love of gain, to murder him.”
+
+“Ah! that was not right in Herod.”
+
+“No,” says I. “It hain't been called so. And what wuzn't right in him,
+hain't right in his relations, who are tryin' to do the same thing
+to-day. But,” says I reasonably, “because Herod was so mean, it hain't
+no sign that all men was mean. Joseph, now, was likely as he could be.”
+
+“Joseph,” says he pensively. “Do you allude to our senator from
+Connecticut,--Joseph R. Hawley?”
+
+“No, no,” says I. “He is likely, as likely can be, and is always on
+the right side of questions--middlin' handsome too. But I am talkin'
+Bible--I am talkin' about Joseph, jest plain Joseph, and nothin' else.”
+
+“Ah! I see I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed
+in politics, and political literature, I don't get any time to devote to
+less important publications.”
+
+Says I candidly, “I knew you hadn't read it, I knew it the minute you
+mentioned the Book of Lilliputions. But, as I was a sayin', Joseph was
+a likely man. He did the very best he could with what he had to do with.
+He had the strength to lead the way, to overcome obsticles, to keep
+dangers from Mary, to protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his
+generous devotion.
+
+[Illustration: BEARING THE BABY PEACE.]
+
+“_But she carried the child on her bosom_. Pondering high things in her
+heart that Joseph had never dreamed of. That is what is wanted now, and
+in the future. The man and the woman walking side by side. He, a little
+ahead mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength and courage.
+She, a carryin' the infant Christ of love, bearin' the baby Peace in her
+bosom, carrying it into safety from them that seek to murder it.
+
+“And, as I said before, if God called woman into this work, He will
+enable her to carry it through. He will protect her from her own
+weaknesses, and from the misapprehensions and hard judgments and
+injustices of a gain-saying world.
+
+“Yes, the star of hope is rising in the sky, brighter and brighter;
+and the wise men are even now coming from afar over the desert, seeking
+diligently where this redeemer is to be found.” He sot demute. He did
+not frame a reply: he had no frame, and I knew it. Silence rained for
+some time; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain,--
+
+“Will you do Dorlesky's errents? Will you give her her rights? And will
+you break the Whisky Ring?”
+
+He said he would love to do Dorlesky's errents. He said I had convinced
+him that it would be just and right to do 'em, but the Constitution of
+the United States stood up firm against 'em. As the laws of the United
+State wuz, he could not make any move towards doin' either of the
+errents.
+
+Says I, “Can't the laws be changed?”
+
+“Be changed? Change the laws of the United States? Tamper with the
+glorious Constitution that our 4 fathers left us--an immortal, sacred
+legacy?”
+
+He jumped right up on his feet, in his surprise, and kinder shook, as
+if he was skairt most to death, and tremblin' with borrow. He did it
+to skair me, I knew; and I wuz most skaird, I confess, he acted so
+horrowfied. But I knew I meant well towards the Constitution, and our
+old 4 fathers; and my principles stiddied me, and held me middlin' firm
+and serene. And when he asked me agin in tones full of awe and horrow,--
+
+“Can it be that I heard my ear aright? or did you speak of changing the
+unalterable laws of the United States--tampering with the Constitution?”
+
+Says I, “Yes, that is what I said.”
+
+Oh, how his body kinder shook, and how sort o' wild he looked out of his
+eyes at me!
+
+Says I, “Hain't they never been changed?”
+
+He dropped that skairful look in a minute, and put on a firm, judicial
+one. He gin up; he could not skair me to death: and says he,--
+
+“Oh, yes! they have been changed in cases of necessity.”
+
+Says I, “For instance, durin' the late war, it was changed to make
+Northern men cheap blood-hounds and hunters.”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “It seemed to be a case of necessity and econimy.”
+
+“I know it,” says I. “Men was cheaper than any other breed of
+blood-hounds the planters had employed to hunt men and wimmen with, and
+more faithful.”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “It was doubtless a case of clear econimy.”
+
+And says I, “The laws have been changed to benifit whisky-dealers.”
+
+“Wall, yes,” he said. “It had been changed to enable whisky-dealers
+to utelize the surplufus liquor they import.” Says he, gettin' kinder
+animated, for he was on a congenial theme,--
+
+“Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on
+how much whisky will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the
+whisky-dealers suffer loss, the laws had to be changed.
+
+[Illustration: A CASE OF NECESSITY.]
+
+“And then,” says he, growin' still more candid in his excitement, “we
+are makin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the
+tax off of whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greater
+quantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of the
+nation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and the
+laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male
+custodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron
+before it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be,
+faithful unto death.”
+
+Says I, “As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said
+I had convinced you that Dorlesky's errents wus errents of truth and
+justice, and you would love to do 'em.”
+
+“Well, yes, yes--I would love to--as it were--But really, my dear madam,
+much as I would like to oblige you, I have not the time to devote to it.
+We senators and Congressmen are so driven, and hard-worked, that really
+we have no time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I don't
+think you realize the constant pressure of hard work, that is ageing us,
+and wearing us out, before our day.
+
+“As I said, we have to watch the liquor-interest constantly, to see that
+the liquor-dealers suffer no loss--we _have_ to do that. And then, we
+have to look sharp if we cut down the money for the Indian schools.”
+
+Says I, in a sarcastick tone, “I s'pose you worked hard for that.”
+
+“Yes,” says he, in a sort of a proud tone. “We did, but we men don't
+begrudge labor if we can advance measures of economy. You see, it
+was taking sights of money just to Christianize and civilize
+Injuns--savages. Why, the idea was worse than useless, it wus perfectly
+ruinous to the Indian agents. For if, through those schools, the Indians
+had got to be self-supporting and intelligent and Christians, why, the
+agents couldn't buy their wives and daughters for a yard of calico,
+or get them drunk, and buy a horse for a glass bead, and a farm for a
+pocket lookin'-glass. Well, thank fortune, we carried that important
+measure through; we voted strong; we cut down the money anyway. And
+there is one revenue that is still accruing to the Government--or, as it
+were, the servants of Government, the agents. You see,” says he, “don't
+you, just how important the subjects are, that are wearing down the
+Congressional and senatorial mind?”
+
+“Yes,” says I sadly, “I see a good deal more than I want to.”
+
+“Yes, you see how hard-worked we are. With all the care of the North
+on our minds, we have to clean out all the creeks in the South, so the
+planters can have smooth sailing. But we think,” says he dreamily, “we
+think we have saved money enough out of the Indian schools, to clean out
+most of their creeks, and perhaps have a little left for a few New-York
+aldermen, to reward them for their arduous duties in drinking and voting
+for their constituents.
+
+“Then, there is the Mormons: we have to make soothing laws to sooth
+them.
+
+“Then, there are the Chinese. When we send them back into heathendom,
+we ought to send in the ship with them, some appropriate biblical texts,
+and some mottoes emblematical of our national eagle protecting and
+clawing the different nations.
+
+“And when we send the Irish paupers back into poverty and ignorance, we
+ought to send in the same ship, some resolutions condemning England for
+her treatment of Ireland.”
+
+Says I, “Most probable the Goddess of Liberty Enlightenin' the World,
+in New-York Harbor, will hold her torch up high, to light such ships on
+their way.”
+
+And he said, “Yes, he thought so.” Says he, “There is very important
+laws up before the House, now, about hens' eggs--counting them.” And
+says he, “Taking it with all those I have spoke of and other kindred
+laws, and the constant strain on our minds in trying to pass laws to
+increase our own salaries, you can see just how cramped we are for
+time. And though we would love to pass some laws of Truth and
+Righteousness,--we fairly ache to,--yet, not having the requisite time,
+we are obliged to lay 'em on the table, or under it.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “I guess I might jest a well be a goin'.”
+
+I bid him a cool good-bye, and started for the door. I was discouraged;
+but he says as I went out,--
+
+“Mebby William Wallace will do the errent for you.”
+
+Says I coldly,--
+
+“William Wallace is dead, and you know it.” And says I with a real lot
+of dignity, “You needn't try to impose on me, or Dorlesky's errent, by
+tryin' to send me round amongst them old Scottish chiefs. I respect
+them old chiefs, and always did; and I don't relish any light talk about
+'em.”
+
+Says he, “This is another William Wallace; and very probable he can do
+the errent.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “I will send the errent to him by Bub Smith; for I am
+wore out.”
+
+As I wended, my way out of Mr. Blains'es, I met the hired man, Bub
+Smith's friend; and he asked me,--
+
+“If I didn't want to visit the Capitol?”
+
+Says I, “Where the laws of the United States are made?”
+
+“Yes,” says he.
+
+And I told him “that I was very weary, but I would fain behold it.”
+
+And he said he was going right by there on business, and he would be
+glad to show it to me. So we walked along in that direction.
+
+It seems that Bub Smith saved the life of his little sister--jumped off
+into the water when she was most drowned, and dragged her out. And from
+that time the two families have thought the world of each other. That is
+what made him so awful good to me.
+
+Wall, I found the Capitol was a sight to behold! Why, it beat any
+buildin' in Jonesville, or Loontown, or Spoon Settlement in beauty and
+size and grandeur. There hain't one that can come nigh it. Why, take all
+the meetin'-housen of these various places, and put 'em all together,
+and put several other meetin'-housen on top of 'em, and they wouldn't
+begin to show off with it.
+
+And, oh! my land! to stand in the hall below, and look up--and up--and
+up--and see all the colors of the rainbow, and see what kinder curious
+and strange pictures there wuz way up there in the sky above me (as it
+were). Why, it seemed curiouser than any Northern lights I ever see in
+my life, and they stream up dretful curious sometimes.
+
+And as I walked through the various lofty and magnificent halls, and
+realized the size and majestic proportions of the buildin', I wondered
+to myself that a small law, a little, unjust law, could ever be passed
+in such a magnificent place.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA VIEWING THE CAPITOL.]
+
+Says I to myself, “It can't be the fault of the place, anyway. They have
+got a chance for their souls to soar if they want to.” Thinks'es I, here
+is room and to spare, to pass by laws big as elephants and camels. And
+I wondered to myself that they should ever try to pass laws and
+resolutions as small as muskeeters and nats. Thinks'es I, I wonder
+them little laws don't get to strollin' round and get lost in them
+magnificent corriders. But I consoled myself a thinkin' that it wouldn't
+be no great loss if they did.
+
+But right here, as I was a thinkin' on these deep and lofty subjects,
+the hired man spoke up; and says he,--
+
+“You look fatigued, mom.” (Soarin' even to yourself, is tuckerin'.) “You
+look very fatigued: won't you take something?”
+
+I looked at him with a curious, silent sort of a look; for I didn't know
+what he meant.
+
+Agin he looked close at me, and sort o' pityin'; and says he, “You look
+tired out, mom. Won't you take something?”
+
+Says I, “What?”
+
+Says he, “Let me treat you to something: what will you take, mom?”
+
+Wall, I thought he was actin' dretful liberal; but I knew they had
+strange ways there in Washington, anyway. And I didn't know but it was
+their way to make some presents to every woman who come there: and I
+didn't want to be odd, and act awkward, and out of style; so I says,--
+
+“I don't want to take any thing, and I don't see any reason why you
+should insist on it. But, if I have got to take something I had jest as
+lives have a few yards of factory-cloth as any thing.”
+
+I thought, if he was determined to treat me, to show his good feelin's
+towards me, I would get somethin' useful, and that would do me some
+good, else what would be the use of bein' treated? And I thought, if I
+had got to take a present from a strange man, I would make a shirt for
+Josiah out of it: I thought that would make it all right, so fur as
+goodness went.
+
+But says he, “I mean beer, or wine, or liquor of some kind.”
+
+I jest riz right up in my shoes and my dignity, and glared at him.
+
+Says he, “There is a saloon right here handy in the buildin'.”
+
+Says I, in awful axents, “It is very appropriate to have it right here
+handy.” Says I, “Liquor does more towards makin' the laws of the United
+States, from caucus to convention, than any thing else does; and it is
+highly proper to have some liquor here handy, so they can soak the laws
+in it right off, before they lay 'em onto the tables, or under 'em, or
+pass 'em onto the people. It is highly appropriate,” says I.
+
+“Yes,” says he. “It is very handy for the senators. And let me get you a
+glass.”
+
+“No, you won't,” says I firmly, “no, you won't. The nation suffers
+enough from that room now, without havin' Josiah Allen's wife let in.”
+
+Says he (his friendship for Bub Smith makin' him anxious and sot on
+helpin' me), “If you have any feeling of delicacy in going in there, let
+me make some wine here. I will get a glass of water, and make you some
+pure grape wine, or French brandy, or corn or rye whiskey. I have all
+the drugs right here.” And he took out a little box out of his pocket.
+“My father is a importer of rare old wines, and I know just how it is
+done. I have 'em all here,--capiscum, coculus Indicus, alum, coperas,
+strychnine. I will make some of the choicest and purest imported liquors
+we have in the country, in five minutes, if you say so.”
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA REFUSING TO BE TREATED.]
+
+“No,” says I firmly. “When I want to follow up Cleopatra's fashion, and
+commit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison as
+she did, on the outside.”
+
+“Cleopatra?” says he inquiringly. “Is she a Washington lady?”
+
+And I says guardedly, “She has lots of relations here, I believe.”
+
+“Wall,” he said, “he thought her name sounded familiar. Then, I can't do
+any thing for you?” he says.
+
+“Yes,” says I calmly: “you can open the front door, and let me out.”
+
+Which he did, and I was glad enough to get out into the pure air.
+
+When I got back to the house, I found they had been to supper. Sally had
+had company that afternoon,--her husband's brother. He had jest left.
+
+He lived only a few miles away, and had come in on the cars. Sally said
+he wanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some
+deep arguments aginst wimmen's suffrage. Says she, “He talks powerful
+about it: he would have convinced you, without a doubt.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “why didn't he stay?”
+
+She said he had to hurry home on account of business. He had come in
+to the village, to get some money. There was goin' to be a lot of men,
+wimmen, and children sold in his neighborhood the next mornin', and he
+thought he should buy a girl, if he could find a likely one.
+
+“Sold?” says I, in curious axents.
+
+“Yes,” says Sally. “They sell the inmates of the poor-house, every year,
+to the highest bidder,--sell their labor by the year. They have 'em get
+up on a auction block, and hire a auctioneer, and sell 'em at so much a
+head, to the crowd. Why, some of 'em bring as high as twenty dollars a
+year, besides board.
+
+[Illustration: BUYING TIME.]
+
+“Sometimes, he said, there was quite a run on old wimmen, and another
+year on young ones. He didn't know but he might buy a old woman. He said
+there was an old woman that he thought there was a good deal of work in,
+yet. She had belonged to one of the first families in the State, and
+had come down to poverty late in life, through the death of some of
+her relations, and the villany of others. So he thought she had more
+strength in her than if she had always been worked. He thought, if she
+didn't fetch too big a price, he should buy her instead of a young one.
+They was so balky, he said, young ones was, and would need more to eat,
+bein' growin'. And she could do rough, heavy work, just as well as a
+younger one, and probably wouldn't complain so much; and he thought she
+would last a year, anyway. It was his way, he said, to put 'em right
+through, and, when one wore out, get another one.”
+
+I sithed; and says I, “I feel to lament that I wuzn't here so's he could
+have converted me.” Says I, “A race of bein's, that make such laws as
+these, hadn't ort to be disturbed by wimmen meddlin' with 'em.”
+
+“Yes: that is what he said,” says Sally, in a innocent way.
+
+I didn't say no more. Good land! Sally hain't to blame. But with a noble
+scorn filling my eye, and floating out the strings of my head-dress, I
+moved off to bed.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I sent Dorlesky's errents by Bub Smith to William
+Wallace, for I felt a good deal fagged out. Bub did 'em well, and I know
+it.
+
+But William Wallace sent him to Gen. Logan.
+
+And Gen. Logan said Grover Cleveland was the one to go to: he wuz a
+sot man, and would do as he agreed. And Mr. Cleveland sent him to Mr.
+Edmunds.
+
+And Mr. Edmunds told him to go to Samuel G. Tilden, or Roswell P.
+Flower.
+
+And Mr. Flower sent him to William Walter Phelps.
+
+And Mr. Phelps said that Benjamin P. Butler or Mr. Bayard was the one to
+do the errent.
+
+And Mr. Bayard sent him to somebody else, and somebody else sent him to
+another one. And so it went on; and Bub Smith traipsed round, a carryin'
+them errents, from one man to another, till he was most dead.
+
+Why, he carried them errents round all day, walkin' afoot.
+
+Bub said most every one of 'em said the errents wuz just and right, but
+they couldn't do 'em, and wouldn't tell their reasons.
+
+One or two, Bub said, opposed it, because they said right out plain,
+“that they wanted to drink. They wanted to drink every thing they could,
+and everywhere they could,--hard cider and beer, and brandy and whisky,
+and every thing.”
+
+And they didn't want wimmen to vote, because they liked to have the
+power in their own hands: they loved to control things, and kinder boss
+round--loved to dearly.
+
+These was open-hearted men who spoke as they felt. But they was
+exceptions. Most every one of 'em said they couldn't do it, and wouldn't
+tell their reasons.
+
+Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein'
+a little in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the
+reasons why the senators wouldn't do the errents.
+
+He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was right
+and just, to their own souls and their own country. He said--for the
+liquor had made him _very_ open-hearted and talkative--that they knew
+the course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime
+against God and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle
+unpopular subjects.
+
+He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them,
+and they knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of
+thousands and thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for
+'em from morn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And
+if wimmen was allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as
+breaking the ring right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though
+they knew that both the errents was jest as right as right could be,
+they dassent tackle 'em, for fear they wouldn't run no chance at all of
+bein' President of the United States.
+
+“Good land!” says I. “What a idee! to think that doin' right would
+make a man unpopular. But,” says I, “I am glad to know they have got a
+reason, if it is a poor one. I didn't know but they sent you round jest
+to be mean.”
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I told Bub to carry the errents right into the
+Senate. Says I, “You have took 'em one by one, alone, now you jest carry
+'em before the hull batch on 'em together.” I told him to tackle the
+hull crew on 'em. So he jest walked right into the Senate, a carryin'
+Dorlesky's errents.
+
+And he come back skairt. He said, jest as he was a carryin' Dorlesky's
+errents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen
+on this very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful,
+to the lawmakers of the land.
+
+And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, and
+called it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you ever
+heard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted
+so haughty and overbearin' towards it, that Bub said he was afraid to
+tackle 'em. He said “he knew they would throw Dorlesky's errents under
+the table, and he was afraid they would throw him under too.” He was
+afraid--(he owned it up to me)--he was afraid they would knock him down.
+So he backed out with Dorlesky's errents, and never give it to 'em at
+all.
+
+And I told him he did right. “For,” says I, “if they wouldn't listen to
+the deepest, most earnest, and most prayerful words that could come from
+the hearts of thousands and tens of thousands of the best mothers and
+wives and daughters in America, the most intelligent and upright and
+pure-minded women in the land, loaded down with their hopes, wet with
+their tears--if they turned their hearts', prayers and deepest desires
+into ridicule, throwed 'em round under their feet, they wouldn't pay
+no attention to Dorlesky's errents, they wouldn't notice one little
+vegitable widow, humbly at that, and sort o' disagreeable.” And says I,
+“I don't want Dorlesky's errents throwed round under foot, and she made
+fun of: she has went through enough trials and tribulations, besides
+these gentlemen--or,” says I, “I beg pardon of Webster's Dictionary: I
+meant men.”
+
+“For,” as I said to Webster's Dictionary in confidence, in a quiet
+thought we had about it afterwards, “they might be gentlemen in every
+other place on earth; but in this one move of theirn,” as I observed
+confidentially to the Dictionary, “they was jest _men_--the male animal
+of the human species.”
+
+And I was ashamed enough as I looked Noah Webster's steel engraving in
+the face, to think I had misspoke myself, and called 'em gentlemen.
+
+[Illustration: HOW WOMAN'S PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED.]
+
+Wall, from that minute I gin up doin' Dorlesky's errents. And I felt
+like death about it. But this thought held me up,--that I had done my
+best. But I didn't feel like doin' another thing all the rest of that
+day, only jest feel disapinted and grieved over my bad luck with the
+errents. I always think it is best, if you can possibly arrainge it in
+that way, to give up one day, or half a day, to feelin' bad over any
+perticuler disapintment, or to worry about any thing, and do all your
+worryin' up in that time, and then give it up for good, and go to
+feelin' happy agin. It is also best, if you have had a hull lot of
+things to get mad about, to set apart half a day, when you can spare the
+time, and do up all your resentin' in that time. It is easier, and takes
+less time than to keep resentin' 'em as they take place; and you can
+feel clever quicker than in the common way.
+
+Wall, I felt dretful bad for Dorlesky and the hull wimmen race of the
+land, and for the men too. And I kep' up my bad feelin's till pretty
+nigh dusk. But as I see the sun go down, and the sky grow dark, I
+says,--
+
+“You are goin' down now, but you are a comin' up agin. As sure as the
+Lord lives, the sun will shine agin; and He who holds you in His hand,
+holds the destinies of the nations. He will watch over you, and me and
+Josiah, and Dorlesky. He will help us, and take care of us.”
+
+So I begun to feel real well agin--a little after dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+The next morning Cicely wuzn't able to leave her room,--no sick
+seemin'ly, but fagged out. She was a delicate little creeter always, and
+seemed to grow delicater every day.
+
+So Miss Smith went with me, and she and I sallied out alone: her name
+bein' Sally, too, made it seem more singuler and coincidin'.
+
+She asked me if I didn't want to go to the Patent Office.
+
+And I told her, “Yes,” And I told her of Betsy Bobbet's errent, and that
+Josiah had charged me expresly to go there, and get him a patent pail.
+He needed a new milk-pail, and thought I could get it cheaper right on
+the spot.
+
+And she said that Josiah couldn't buy his pail there. But she told me
+what sights and sights of things there wus to be seen there; and I found
+out when I got there, that she hadn't told me the 1/2 or the 1/4 of the
+sights I see.
+
+Why, I could pass a month there in perfect destraction and happiness,
+the sights are so numerous, and exceedingly destractin' and curious.
+
+But I told Sally Smith plainly, that I wasn't half so much interested in
+apple-parers and snow-plows, and the first sewin'-machine and the last
+one, and steam-engines and hair-pins and pianos and thimbles, and the
+acres and acres of glass cases containing every thing that wus ever
+heard of, and every thing that never wus heard of by anybody, and
+etcetery, etcetery, and so 4th, and so 4th. And you might string them
+words out over choirs and choirs of paper, and not get half an idee of
+what is to be seen there.
+
+But I told her I didn't feel half so interested in them things as I did
+in the copyright. I told Sally plain “that I wanted to see the place
+where the copyrights on books was made. And I wanted to see the man who
+made 'em.”
+
+And she asked me “Why? What made me so anxious?”
+
+And I told her “the law was so curious, that I believed it would be the
+curiousest place, and he would be the curiousest lookin' creeter, that
+wuz ever seen.” Says I, “I'll bet it will be better than a circus to see
+him.”
+
+But it wuzn't. He looked jest like any man. And he had a sort of a
+smart look onto him. Sally said “it was one of the clerks,” but I don't
+believe a word of it. I believe it was the man himself, who made the
+law; for, as in all other emergincies of life, I follered Duty, and
+asked him “to change the law instantly.”
+
+And he as good as promised me he would.
+
+I talked deep to him about it, but short. I told him Josiah had bought
+a mair, and he expected to own it till he or the mair died. He didn't
+expect to give up his right to it, and let the mair canter off free at a
+stated time.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND SALLY IN THE PATENT OFFICE.]
+
+And he asked me “Who Josiah was?” and I told him.
+
+And I told him that “Josiah's farm run along one side of a pond; and if
+one of his sheep got over on the other side, it was sheep jest the same,
+and it was hisen jest the same: he didn't lose the right to it, because
+it happened to cross the pond.”
+
+Says he, “There would be better laws regarding copyright, if it wuzn't
+for selfishness on both sides of the pond.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “selfishness don't pay in the long-run.” And then,
+thinkin' mebby if I made myself agreable and entertainin', he
+would change the law quicker, I made a effort, and related a little
+interestin' incident that I had seen take place jest before my former
+departure from Jonesville, on a tower.
+
+“No, selfishness don't pay. I have seen it tried, and I know. Now,
+Bildad Henzy married a wife on a speculation. She was a one-legged
+woman. He was attached at the time to a woman with the usual number
+of feet; but he was so close a calculator, that he thought it would be
+money in his pocket to marry this one, for he wouldn't have to buy but
+one shoe and stockin'. But she had to jump round on that one foot,
+and step heavy; so she wore out more shoes than she would if she was
+two-footed.” Says I, “Selfishness don't pay in private life or in
+politics.”
+
+And he said “He thought jest so,” and he jest about the same as promised
+me he would change the law.
+
+I hope he will. It makes me feel so strange every time I think out, as
+strange as strange can be.
+
+Why, I told Sally after we went out, and I spoke about “the man lookin'
+human, and jest like anybody else;” and she said “it was a clerk;” and I
+said “I knew better, I knew it was the man himself.”
+
+And says I agin, “It beats all, how anybody in human shape can make such
+a law as that copyright law.”
+
+And she said “that was so.” But I knew by her mean, that she didn't
+understand a thing about it; and I knew it would make me so sort o'
+light-headed and vacant if I went to explain it to her, that I never
+said a word, and fell in at once with her proposal that we should go
+and see the Treasury, and the Corcoran Art Gallery, and the Smithsonian
+Institute, one at a time.
+
+And I found the Treasury wuz a sight to behold. Such sights and sights
+of money they are makin' there, and a countin'. Why, I s'pose they make
+more money there in a week, than Josiah and I spend in a year.
+
+I s'pose most probable they made it a little faster, and more of it, on
+account of my bein' there. But they have sights and sights of it. They
+are dretful well off.
+
+I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too,--I hain't one of the
+underhanded kind,--I asked her, “If she s'posed they'd let us take hold
+and make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin' over
+with it, there.”
+
+And she said, “No, private citizens couldn't do that.”
+
+Says I, “Who can?”
+
+She kinder whispered back in a skairt way, sunthin' about “speculators
+and legislators and rings, and etcetery.”
+
+But I answered right out loud,--I hain't one to go whisperin'
+round,--and says I,--
+
+“I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had
+for him, he'd hand out a few dollars of his own accord for me to get
+sunthin' to remember him by. Howsumever, I don't need nor want any
+of his money. I hain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over
+fourteen dollars by me, at this present time, egg-money.”
+
+But it was a sight to behold, to see 'em make it.
+
+And then, as we stood out on the sidewalk agin, the Smithsonian
+Institute passed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery
+passed through it, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em
+pass; and I says to Sally,--
+
+“Let us go at once and see the man that makes the public schools.” Says
+I, “There is a man that I honor, and almost love.”
+
+And she said she didn't know who it wuz.
+
+But I think it was the lamb that she had in a bakin', that drew her back
+towards home. She owned up that her hired girl didn't baste it enough.
+
+And she seemed oneasy.
+
+But I stood firm, and says, “I shall see that man, lamb or no lamb.”
+
+And then Sally give in. And she found him easy enough. She knew all the
+time, it was the sheep that hampered her.
+
+And, oh! I s'pose it was a sight to be remembered, to see my talk
+to that man. I s'pose, if it had been printed, it would have made a
+beautiful track--and lengthy.
+
+Why, he looked fairly exhausted and cross before I got half through, I
+talked so smart (eloquence is tuckerin').
+
+I told him how our public schools was the hope of the nation. How they
+neutralized to a certain extent the other schools the nation allowed to
+the public,--the grog-shops, and other licensed places of ruin. I told
+him how pretty it looked to me to see Civilization a marchin' along from
+the Atlantic towards the Pacific, with a spellin'-book in one hand, and
+in the other the rosy, which she was a plantin' in place of the briars
+and brambles.
+
+And I told him how highly I approved of compulsory education.
+
+“Why,” says I, “if anybody is a drowndin', you don't ask their consent
+to be drawed out of the water, you jest jump in, and yank 'em out. And
+when you see poor little ones, a sinkin' down in the deep waters of
+ignorance and brutality, why, jest let Uncle Sam reach right down, and
+draw 'em out.” Says I, “I'll bet that is why he is pictered as havin'
+such long arms for, and long legs too,--so he can wade in if the water
+is deep, and they are too fur from the shore for his arms to reach.”
+
+And says I, “In the case of the little Indian, and other colored
+children, he'll need the legs of a stork, the water is so deep round
+'em. But he'll reach 'em, Uncle Sam will. He'll lift 'em right up in his
+long arms, and set 'em safe on the pleasant shore. You'll see that he
+will. Uncle Sam is a man of a thousand.”
+
+Says I, “How much it wus like him, to pass that law for children to be
+learnt jest what whisky is, and what it will do. Why,” says I, “in that
+very law Christianity has took a longer stride than she could take by
+millions of sermons, all divided off into tenthlies and twentiethlies.”
+
+Why, I s'pose I talked perfectly beautiful to that man: I s'pose so.
+
+And if he hadn't had a sudden engagement to go out, I should have talked
+longer. But I see his engagement wus a wearin' on him. His eyes looked
+fairly wild. I only give a bald idee of what I said. I have only give
+the heads of my discussion to him, jest the bald heads.
+
+Wall, after we left there, I told Sally I felt as if I must go and see
+the Peace Commission. I felt as if I must make some arrangements with
+'em to not have any more wars. As I told Sally, “We might jest as well
+call ourselves Injuns and savages at once, if we had to keep up this
+most savage and brutal trait of theirn.” Says I firmly, “I _must_,
+before I go back to Jonesville, tend to it.” Says I, “I didn't come here
+for fashion, or dry-goods; though I s'pose lots of both of 'em are to
+be got here.” Says I, “I may tend to one or two fashionable parties, or
+levys as I s'pose they call 'em here. I may go to 'em ruther than hurt
+the feelin's of the upper 10. I want to do right: I don't want to hurt
+the feelin's of them 10. They have hearts, and they are sensitive.
+I don't think I have ever took to them 10, as much as I have to some
+others; but I wish 'em well.
+
+“And I s'pose you see as grand and curious people to their parties here,
+as you can see together in any other place on the globe.
+
+“I s'pose it is a sight to behold, to see 'em together. To see them, as
+the poet says, 'To the manner born,' and them that wasn't born in
+the same manor, but tryin' to act as if they was. Wealth and display,
+natural courtesy and refinement, walkin' side by side with pretentius
+vulgarity, and mebby poverty bringin' up the rear. Genius and folly,
+honesty and affectation, gentleness and sweetness, and brazen impudence,
+and hatred and malice, and envy and uncharitableness. All languages and
+peoples under the sun, and differing more than stars ever did, one from
+another.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AT THE PRESIDENT'S RECEPTION.]
+
+“And what makes it more curious and mysterius is, the way they dress,
+some on 'em. Why, they say--it has come right straight to me by them
+that know--that the ladies wear what they call full dress; and the
+strange and mysterius part of it is, that the fuller the dress is, the
+less they have on 'em.
+
+“This is a deep subject, and queer; and I don't s'pose you will take my
+word for it, and I don't want you to. But I have been _told_ so.
+
+“Why, I s'pose them upper 10 have their hands full, their 20 hands
+completely full. I fairly pity 'em--the hull 10 of 'em. They want me,
+and they need me, I s'pose, and I must tend to some of 'em.
+
+“And then,” says I, “I did calculate to pay some attention to
+store-clothes. I did want to get me a new calico dress,--London brown
+with a set flower on it. But I can do without that dress, and the upper
+10 can do without me, better than the Nation can do without Peace.”
+
+I felt as if I must tend to it: I fairly hankered to do away with war,
+immejiately and to once. But I knew right was right, and I felt
+that Sally ort to be let to tend to her lamb; so Sally and I sallied
+homewards.
+
+But the hired girl had tended to it well. It wus good--very good.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Wall, the next mornin' Cicely wus better, and we sot sail for Mount
+Vernon. It was about ten o'clock A.M. when I, accompanied by Cicely and
+the boy, sot sail from Washington, D.C., to perform about the ostensible
+reason of my tower,--to weep on the tomb of the noble G. Washington.
+
+My intentions had been and wuz, to weep for him on my tower. I had come
+prepared. 2 linen handkerchiefs and a large cotton one reposed in the
+pocket of my polenay, and I had on my new waterproof. I never do things
+by the 1/2s.
+
+It was a beautiful seen, as we floated down the still river, to look
+back and see the Capitol risin' white and fair like a dream, the
+glitterin' snow of the monument, and the green heights, all bathed in
+the glory of that perfect May mornin'. It wuz a fair seen.
+
+Happy groups of people sot on the peaceful decks,--stately gentlemen,
+handsome ladies, and pretty children. And in one corner, off kinder by
+themselves, sot that band of dusky singers, whose songs have delighted
+the world. Modest, good-lookin' dark girls, manly, honest-lookin' dark
+boys.
+
+Only a few short years ago this black people was drove about like dumb
+cattle,--bought and sold, hunted by blood-hounds; the wimmen hunted to
+infamy and ruin, the men to torture and to death. The wimmen denied the
+first right of womanhood, to keep themselves pure. The men denied the
+first right of manhood, to protect the ones they loved. Deprived legally
+of purity and honor, and all the rights of commonest humanity--worn with
+unpaid toil, beaten, whipped, tortured, dispised and rejected of men.
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MOUNT VERNON.]
+
+Now, a few short years have passed over this dark race, and these
+children of slaves that I looked upon have been guests of the proudest
+and noblest in this and in foreign lands. Hands that hold the destinies
+of mighty empires have clasped theirs in frankest friendship, and
+crowned heads have bowed low before 'em to hide the tears their sweet
+voices have called forth. What feelin's I felt as I looked on 'em! and
+my soul burned inside of me, almost to the extent of settin' my polenay
+on fire, a thinkin' of all this.
+
+And pretty soon, right when I was a reveryin'--right there, when we wuz
+a floatin' clown the still waters, their voices riz up in one of their
+inspired songs. They sung about their “Hard Trials,” and how the “Sweet
+Chariot swung low,” and how they had “Been Redeemed.”
+
+And I declare for't, as I listened to 'em, there wuzn't a dry eye in my
+head; and I wet every one of them 3 handkerchiefs that I had calculated
+to mourn for G. Washington on, wet as sop. But I didn't care. I knew
+that George had rather not be mourned for on dry handkerchiefs, than
+that I should stent myself in emotions in such a time as this. He loved
+Liberty himself, and fit for it. And anyway, I didn't sense what I was
+a doin', not a mite. I took out them handkerchiefs entirely unbeknown to
+me, and put 'em back unbeknown.
+
+The words of them songs hain't got hardly any sense, as we earthly
+bein's count sense; there are scores of great singers, whose trained
+voices are a hundred-fold more melodious: but these simple strains move
+us, thrill us; they jest get right inside of our hearts and souls, and
+take full possession of us.
+
+It seems as if nothin' human of so little importance could so move us.
+Is it God's voice that speaks to us through them? Is it His Spirit that
+lifts us up, sways us to and fro, that blows upon us, as we listen to
+their voices? The Spirit that come down to cheer them broken hearts,
+lift them up in their captivity, does it now sway and melt the hearts
+of their captors? We read of One who watches over His sorrowing, wronged
+people, givin' them “songs in the night.”
+
+Anon, or nearly at that time, a silver bell struck out a sweet sort of
+a mournful note; and we jest stood right in towards the shore, and
+disembarked from the bark.
+
+We clomb the long hill, and stood on top, with powerful emotions (but
+little or no breath); stood before the iron bars that guarded the tomb
+of George Washington, and Martha his wife.
+
+I looked at the marble coffin that tried to hold George, and felt
+how vain it wuz to think that any tomb could hold him. That peaceful,
+tree-covered hill couldn't hold his tomb. Why, it wuz lifted up in every
+land that loved freedom. The hull liberty-lovin' earth wuz his tomb and
+his monument.
+
+And that great river flowin' on and on at his feet--as long as that
+river rolls, George Washington shall float on it, he and his faithful
+Martha. It shall bear him to the sea and the ocian, and abroad to every
+land.
+
+Oh! what feelin's I felt as I stood there a reveryin', my body still,
+but my mind proudly soarin'! To think, he wuz our Washington, and that
+time couldn't kill him. For he shall walk through the long centuries to
+come. He shall bear to the high chamber of prince and ruler, memories
+that shall blossom into deeds, awaken souls, rouse powers that shall
+never die, that shall scatter blessings over lands afar, strike the
+fetters from slave and serf.
+
+The hands they folded over his peaceful breast so many years ago, are
+not lying there in that marble coffin: the calm blue eyes closed so many
+years ago, are still lookin' into souls. Those hands lift the low walls
+of the poor boy's chamber, as he reads of victory over tyranny, of
+conquerin' discouragement and defeat.
+
+[Illustration: BEFORE THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+The low walls fade away; the dusky rafters part to admit the infinite,
+infinite longin's to do and dare, infinite resolves to emulate those
+deeds of valor and heroism. How the calm blue eyes look down into the
+boy's impassioned soul, how the shadowy hands beckon him upward, up the
+rocky heights of noble endeavor, noble deeds! How the inspiration of
+this life, these deeds of might and valor, nerve the young heart for
+future strivings for freedom and justice and truth!
+
+Is it not a blessed thing to thus live on forever in true, eager hearts,
+to nerve the hero's arm, to inspire deeds of courage and daring? The
+weary body may rest; but to do this, is surely not to die; no, it is
+to live, to be immortal, to thus become the beating heart, the living,
+struggling, daring soul of the future.
+
+And right while I was thinkin' these thoughts, and lookin' off over the
+still landscape, the peaceful waters, this band of dark singers stood
+with reverent faces and uncovered heads, and begun singin' one of their
+sweetest melodies,--
+
+“He rose, he rose, he rose from the dead.”
+
+Oh! as them inspired, hantin' notes rose through the soft, listenin'
+air, and hanted me, walked right round inside my heart and soul, and
+inspired me--why! how many emotions I did have,--more'n 85 a minute
+right along!
+
+As I thought of how many times since the asscension of our Lord, tombs
+have opened, and the dead come forth alive; how Faith and Justice will
+triumph in the end; how you can't bury 'em deep enough, or roll a stun
+big enough and hard enough before the door, but what, in some calm
+mornin', the earliest watcher shall see a tall, fair angel standin'
+where the dead has lain, bearin' the message of the risen Lord, “He rose
+from the dead.”
+
+I thought how George W. and our other old 4 fathers thought in the long,
+toilsome, weary hours before the dawnin', that fair Freedom was dead;
+but she rose, she rose.
+
+I thought how the dusky race whose sweet songs was a floatin' round the
+grave of him who loved freedom, and gave his life for it; I thought
+how, durin' the dreary time when they was captives in a strange land,
+chained, scourged, and tortured, how they thought, through this long,
+long night of years, that Justice was dead, and Mercy and Pity and
+Righteousness.
+
+But there come a glorious mornin' when fathers and mothers clasped their
+children in their arms, their own once more, in arms that was their own,
+to labor and protect, and they sung together of Freedom and Right, how
+though they wuz buried deep, and the night wuz long, and the watchers
+by the tomb weary, weary unto death, yet they rose, they rose from the
+dead.
+
+And then I thought of the tombs that darken our land to-day, where the
+murdered, the legally murdered, lay buried. I thought of the graves more
+hopeless fur than them that entomb the dead,--the graves where lay the
+livin' dead. Dead souls bound to still breathin' bodies, dead hopes,
+ambitions, dead dreams of usefulness and respectability, happiness, dead
+purity, faith, honor, dead, all dead, all bound to the still breathin'
+body, by the festerin', putrid death-robes of helplessness and despair.
+
+There they lie chained to their dark tombs by links slight at first,
+but twisted by the hard old fingers of blind habit, to chains of iron,
+chains linked about, and eatin' into, not only the quiverin' flesh, but
+the frenzied brains, the hope less hearts, the ruined souls.
+
+Heavy, hopeless-lookin' vaults they are indeed, whose air is putrid with
+the sickenin' miasma of moral loathsomness and deseese; whose walls are
+painted with hideous pictures of murder, rapine, lust, starvation, woe,
+and despair, earthly and eternal ruin. Shapes of the dreadful past, the
+hopeless future, that these livin' dead stare upon with broodin' frenzy
+by night and by day.
+
+Oh the tombs, the countless, countless tombs, where lie these breathin'
+corpses! How mothers weep over them! how wives kneel, and beat their
+hearts out on the rocky barriers that separate them from their hearts'
+love, their hearts' desire! How little starvin', naked children cower in
+their ghostly shadows through dark midnights! How fathers weep for their
+children, dead to them, dead to honor, to shame, to humanity! How the
+cries of the mourners ascend to the sweet heavens!
+
+And less peaceful than the graves of the departed, these tombs
+themselves are full of the hopeless cries of the entombed, praying for
+help, praying for some strong hand to reach down and lift them out of
+their reeking, polluted, living death.
+
+The whole of our fair land is covered with jest such graves: its turf is
+tread down by the footprints of the mourners who go about the streets.
+They pray, they weep: the night is long, is long. But the morning will
+dawn at last.
+
+And the women,--daughters, wives, mothers,--who kneel with clasped
+hands beside the tombs, heaviest-eyed, deepest mourners, because most
+helpless. Lift up your heavy eyes: the sun is even now rising, that
+shall gild the sky at last. The mornin' light is even now dawnin' in the
+east. It shall fall first upon your uplifted brows, your prayerful eyes.
+Most blessed of God, because you loved most, sorrowed most. To you shall
+it be given to behold first the tall, fair angel of Resurection and
+Redemption, standin' at the grave's mouth. Into your hands shall be put
+the key to unlock the heavy doors, where your loved has lain.
+
+The dead shall rise. Temperance and Justice and Liberty shall rise.
+They shall go forth to bless our fair land. And purified and enobled,
+it shall be the best beloved, the fairest land of God beneath the sun.
+Refuge of the oppressed and tempted, inspiration of the hopeless, light
+of the world.
+
+And free mothers shall clasp their free children to their hearts; and
+fathers and mothers and children shall join in one heavenly strain, song
+of freedom and of truth. And the nations shall listen to hear how “they
+rose, they rose, they rose from the dead.”
+
+As the tones of the sweet hymn died on the soft air, and the blessed
+vision passed with it; when I come down onto my feet,--for truly, I had
+been lifted up, and by the side of myself,--Cicely was standin' with her
+brown eyes lookin' over the waters, holdin' the hand of the boy; and I
+see every thing that the song did or could mean, in the depths of her
+deep, prophetic eyes. Sad eyes, too, they was, and discouraged; for the
+morning wus fur away--and--and the boy wus pullin' at her hand, eager to
+get away from where he wus.
+
+The boy led us; and we follered him up the gradual hill to the old
+homestead of Washington, Mount Vernon.
+
+Lookin' down from the broad, high porch, you can look directly down
+through the trees into the river. The water calm and sort o' golden,
+through the green of the trees, and every thing looked peaceful and
+serene.
+
+There are lots of interestin' things to be seen here,--the tombs of the
+rest of the Washington family; the key of the Bastile, covered with the
+blood and misery of a foreign land; the tree that carries us back in
+memory to his grave, where he rests quietly, who disturbed the sleep of
+empires and kingdoms; the furniture of Washington and his family,--the
+chairs they sot in, the tables they sot at, and the rooms where
+they sot; the harpiscord, that Nelly Custis and Mrs. G. Washington
+harpiscorded on.
+
+But she whose name wus once Smith longed to see somethin' else fur more.
+What wus it?
+
+It wus not the great drawin'-rooms, the guest-chambers, the halls, the
+grounds, the live-stock, nor the pictures, nor the flowers.
+
+No: it wus the old garret of the mansion, the low old garret, where she
+sot, our Lady Washington, in her widowed dignity, with no other fire
+only the light of deathless love that lights palace or hovel,--sot there
+in the window, because she could look out from it upon the tomb of her
+mighty dead.
+
+Sot lookin' out upon the river that wus sweepin' along under sun and
+moon, bearing on every wave and ripple the glory and beauty of his name.
+
+Bearing it away from her mebby, she would sometimes sadly think, as she
+thought of happy days gone by; for though souls may soar, hearts will
+cling. And sometimes storms would vex the river's unquiet breast; and
+mebby the waves would whisper to her lovin' heart, “Never more, never
+more.”
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD HOME OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+As she sot there looking out, waiting for that other river, whose waves
+crept nearer and nearer to her feet,--that other river, on which her
+soul should sail away to meet her glorious dead; that river which
+whispers “Forever, forever;” that river which is never unquiet, and
+whose waves are murmuring of nothing less beautiful than of meeting, of
+love, and of lasting repose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+When we got back from Mount Vernon, and entered our boardin'-house,
+Cicely went right up to her room. But I, feelin' kinder beat out
+(eloquent emotions are very tuckerin' on a tower), thought I would set
+down a few minutes in the parlor to rest, before I mounted up the stairs
+to my room.
+
+But truly, as it turned out, I had better have gone right up, breath or
+no breath.
+
+For, while I was a settin' there, a tall, sepulchral lookin' female,
+that I had noticed at the breakfast-table, come up to me; and says
+she,--
+
+“I beg your pardon, mom, but I believe you are the noble and eloquent
+Josiah Allen's wife, and I believe you are a stoppin' here.”
+
+Says I calmly, “I hain't a stoppin'--I am stopped, as it were, for a few
+days.”
+
+“Wall,” says she, “a friend of mine is comin' to-night, to my room,
+No. 17, to give a private seansy. And knowin' you are a great case to
+investigate into truths, I thought mebby you would love to come, and
+witness some of our glorious spirit manifestations.”
+
+I thanked her for her kindness, but told her “I guessed I wouldn't go. I
+didn't seem to be sufferin' for a seancy.”
+
+“Oh!” says she: “it is wonderful, wonderful to see. Why, we will tie the
+medium up, and he will ontie himself.”
+
+“Oh!” says I. “I have seen that done, time and agin. I used to tie
+Thomas J. up when he was little, and naughty; and he would, in spite of
+me, ontie himself, and get away.”
+
+“Who is Thomas J.?” says she.
+
+“Josiah's child by his first wife,” says I.
+
+“Wall,” says she, “if we have a good circle, and the conditions are
+favorable, the spirits will materialize,--come before us with a body.”
+
+“Oh!” says I. “I have seen that. Thomas J. used to dress up as a ghost,
+and appear to us. But he didn't seem to think the conditions wus so
+favorable, and he didn't seem to appear so much, after his father
+ketched him at it, and give him a good whippin'.” And says I firmly, “I
+guess that would be about the way with your ghosts.”
+
+And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o'
+pitiful,--to go to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my
+remark, for she seemed to be a gazin' upward in a sort of a muse; and
+she says,--
+
+“Oh! would you not like to talk with your departed kindred?”
+
+“Wall, yes,” says I firmly, after a minute's thought. “I would like to.”
+
+“Come to-night to our seansy, and we will call 'em, and you shall talk
+with 'em.”
+
+“Wall,” says I candidly, “to tell the truth, bein' only wimmen present,
+I'll tell you, I have got to mend my petticoat to-night. My errents have
+took me round to such a extent, that it has got all frayed out round the
+bottom, and I have got to mend the fray. But, if any of my kindred are
+there, you jest mention it to 'em that she that wuz Samantha Smith is
+stopped at No. 16, and, if perfectly convenient, would love to see
+'em. I can explain it to 'em,” says I, “bein' all in the family, why I
+couldn't leave my room.”
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON S GHOST.]
+
+Says she, “You are makin' fun: you don't believe they will be there, do
+you?”
+
+“Wall, to be honest with you, it looks dubersome to me. It does seem to
+me, that if my father or mother sot out from the other world, and come
+down to this boardin'-house, to No. 17, they would know, without havin'
+to be told, that I was in the next room to 'em; and they wouldn't want
+to stay with a passel of indifferent strangers, when their own child was
+so near.”
+
+“You don't believe in the glorious manifestations of our seansys?” says
+she.
+
+“Wall, to tell you the plain truth, I don't seem to believe 'em to any
+great extent. I believe, if God wants to speak to a human soul below,
+He can, without any of your performances and foolishness; and when I say
+performences and when I say foolishness, I say 'em in very polite ways:
+and I don't want to hurt anybody's feelin's by sayin' things hain't so,
+but I simply state my belief.”
+
+“Don't you believe in the communion of saints? Don't you believe God
+ever reveals himself to man?”
+
+“Yes, I do! I believe that now, as in the past, the pure in heart shall
+see God. Why, heaven is over all, and pretty nigh to some.”
+
+And I thought of Cicely, and couldn't help it.
+
+“I believe there are pure souls, especially when they are near to the
+other world, who can look in, and behold its beauty. Why, it hain't but
+a little ways from here,--it can't be, sense a breath of air will blow
+us into it. It takes sights of preparation to get ready to go, but it is
+only a short sail there. And you may go all over the land from house
+to house, and you will hear in almost every one of some dear friend who
+died with their faces lit up with the glow of the light shinin' from
+some one of the many mansions,--the dear home-light of the fatherland;
+died speakin' to some loved one, gone before. But I don't believe you
+can coax that light, and them voices, down into a cabinet, and let 'em
+shine and speak, at so much an evenin'.”
+
+“I thought,” says she bitterly, “that you was one who never condemned
+any thing that you hadn't thoroughly investigated.”
+
+“I don't,” says I. “I don't condemn nothin' nor nobody. I only tell my
+mind. I don't say there hain't no truth in it, because I don't know;
+and that is one of the best reasons in the world for not sayin' a thing
+hain't so. When you think how big a country the land of Truth is, and
+how many great unexplored regions lay in it, why should Josiah Allen's
+wife stand and lean up aginst a tree on the outmost edge of the
+frontier, and say what duz and what duzn't lay hid in them mysterius and
+beautiful regions that happier eyes than hern shall yet look into?
+
+“No: the great future is the fulfillment of the prophecies, and blind
+gropin's of the present; and it is not for me, nor Josiah, nor anybody
+else, to talk too positive about what we hain't seen, and don't know.
+
+“No: nor I hain't one to say it is the Devil's work, not claimin' such a
+close acquaintance with the gentleman named, as some do, who profess
+to know all his little social eccentricities. But I simply say, and say
+honest, that I hain't felt no drawin's towards seancys, nor felt like
+follerin' 'em up. But I am perfectly willin' you should have your own
+idees, and foller 'em.”
+
+“Do you believe angels have appeared to men?”
+
+“Yes, mom, I do. But I never heard of a angel bein' stanchelled up in a
+box-stall, and let out of it agin at stated times, like a yearlin' colt.
+(Excuse my metafor, mom, I am country bred and born.) And no angel that
+I ever heard on, has been harnessed and tackled up with any ropes or
+strings whatsoever. No! whenever we hear of angels appearin' to men,
+they have flown down, white-winged and radiant, right out of the
+heavens, which is their home, and appeared to men, entirely unbeknown
+to them. That is the way they appeared to the shephards at Bethlahem, to
+the disciples on the mountain, to the women at the tomb.”
+
+“Don't you believe they could come jest as well now?”
+
+“I don't say they couldn't. There is no place in the Bible, that I know
+of, where it says they shall never appear agin to man. But I s'pose, in
+the days I speak of, when the One Pure Heart was upon earth, Earth and
+Heaven drew nearer together, as it were,--the divine and the human. And
+if we now draw Heaven nearer to us by better, purer lives, who knows,”
+ says I dreamily (forgettin' the mejum, and other trials), “who knows but
+what we might, in some fair day, look up into the still heavens, and see
+through the clear blue, in the distance, a glimpse of the beautiful city
+of the redeemed?
+
+“Who knows,” says I, “if we lived for Heaven, as Jennie Dark lived for
+her country, in the story I have heard Thomas J. read about, but we
+might, like her, see visions, and hear voices, callin' us to heavenly
+duties? But,” says I, findin' and recoverin' myself, “I don't see no use
+in a seansy to help us.”
+
+“Don't you admit that there is strange doin's at these seansys?”
+
+“Yes,” says I. “I never see one myself; but, from what I have heard of
+'em, they are very strange.”
+
+“Don't you think there are things done that seem supernatural?”
+
+“I don't know as they are any more supernatural than the telegraph
+and telefone and electric light, and many other seemin'ly supernatural
+works. And who knows but there may still be some hidden powers in nature
+that is the source of what you call supernatural?”
+
+“Why not believe, with us, voices from Heaven speak through these
+means?”
+
+“Because it looks dubersome to me--dretful dubersome. It don't look
+reasonable to me, that He, the mighty King of heaven and earth, would
+speak to His children through a senseless Indian jargon, or impossible
+and blasphemous speeches through a first sphere.”
+
+“You say you believe God has spoken to men, and why not now?”
+
+“I tell you, I don't know but He duz. But I don't believe it is in that
+manner. Way back to the creation, when we read of God's speakin' to man,
+the voice come directly down from heaven to their souls.
+
+“In the hush of the twilight, when every thing was still and peaceful,
+and Adam was alone, then he heard God's voice. He didn't have to wait
+for favorable conditions, or set round a table; for, what is more
+convincin', I don't believe he had a table to set round.
+
+“In the dreary lonesomeness of the great desert, God spoke to the
+heart-broken Hagar. She didn't have to try any tests to call down the
+spirits. Clear and sudden out of heaven come the Lord's voice speaking
+to her soul in comfort and in prophecy, and her eyes was opened, and she
+saw waters flowin' in the midst of the desert.
+
+“Up on the mountain top, God's voice spoke to Abraham; and Lot in the
+quiet of evening, at the tent's door, received the angelic visitants.
+Sudden, unbeknown to them, they come. They didn't have to put nobody
+into a trance, nor holler, so we read.
+
+“In the hush of the temple, through the quiet of her motherly dreams,
+Hannah heard a voice. Hannah didn't have to say, 'If you are a spirit,
+rap so many times.' No: she knew the voice. God prepares the listenin'
+soul His own self. 'They know my voice,' so the Lord said.
+
+“Daniel and the lions didn't have to 'form a circle' for him to see
+the one in shinin' raiment. No: the angel guest came down from heaven
+unbidden, and appeared to Daniel alone, in peril; and as he stood by
+the 'great river,' it said, 'Be strong, be strong!' preparin' him for
+conflict. And Daniel was strengthened, so the Bible says.
+
+“God's hand is not weaker to-day, and His conflicts are bein' waged on
+many a battle-field. And I dare not say that He does not send His angels
+to comfort and sustain them who from love to Him go out into rightous
+warfare. But I don't believe they come through a seansy. I don't,
+honestly. I don't believe Daniel would have felt strengthened a mite, by
+seein' a materialized rag-baby hung out by a wire in front of a hemlock
+box, and then drawed back sudden.
+
+[Illustration: HEAVENLY VISITORS.]
+
+“No: Adam and Enoch, and Mary and Paul and St. John, didn't have to say,
+before they saw the heavenly guests, 'If you are a spirit, manifest it
+by liftin' up some table-legs.' And they didn't have to tie a mejum into
+a box before they could hear God's voice. No: we read in the Bible of
+eight different ones who come back from death, and appeared to their
+friends, besides the many who came forth from their graves at Jerusalem.
+But they didn't none of 'em come in this way from round under tables,
+and out of little coops, and etcetery.
+
+“And as it was in the old days, so I believe it is to-day. I believe, if
+God wants to speak to a human soul, livin' or dead, He don't _need_ the
+help of ropes and boxes and things. It don't look reasonable to think He
+_has_ to employ such means. And it don't look reasonable to me to think,
+if He wants to speak to one of His children in comfort or consolation,
+He will try to drive a hard bargain with 'em, and make 'em pay from
+fifty cents to a dollar to hear Him, children half price. Howsomever,
+everybody to their own opinions.”
+
+“You are a unbeliever,” says she bitterly.
+
+“Yes, mom: I s'pose I am. I s'pose I should be called Samantha Allen,
+U.S., which Stands, Unbeliever in Spiritual Seansys, and also United
+States. It has a noble, martyrous look to me,” says I firmly. “It makes
+me think of my errent.”
+
+She tosted her head in a high-headed way, which is gaulin' in the
+extreme to see in another female. And she says,--
+
+“You are not receptive to truth.”
+
+I s'pose she thought that would scare me, but it didn't. I says,--
+
+“I believe in takin' truth direct from God's own hand and revelation.
+But I don't have any faith in modern spiritual seansys. They seem to
+me,--and I would say it in a polite, courtous way, for I wouldn't
+hurt your feelin's for the world,--all mixed up with modern greed and
+humbug.”
+
+But, if you'll believe it, for all the pains I took to be almost
+over-polite to her, and not say a word to hurt her feelin's, that woman
+acted mad, and flounced out of the room as if she was sent.
+
+Good land! what strange creeters there are in the world, anyway!
+
+Wall, I had fairly forgot that the boy wus in the room. But 1,000 and 5
+is a small estimate of the questions he asked me after she went out.
+
+“What a seansy was? And did folks appear there? And would his papa
+appear if he should tie himself up in a box? And if I would be sorry if
+his papa didn't appear, if he didn't appear? And where the folks went
+to that I said, come out of their graves? And did they die again? Or did
+they keep on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'? And if I wished I could
+keep on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'?”
+
+Good land! it made me feel wild as a loon, and Cicely put the boy to
+bed.
+
+But I happened to go into the bedroom for something; and he opened his
+eyes, and says he,--
+
+“_Say_! if the dead live men's little boys that had grown up and lived
+and died before their pa's come out, would they come out too? and would
+the dead live men know that they was their little boys? and _say_”--
+
+But I went out immegiatly, and s'pose he went to sleep.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I got up feelin' kinder mauger. I felt sort
+o' weary in my mind as well as my body. For I had kep' up a powerful
+ammount of thinkin' and medetatin'. Mebby right when I would be a
+talkin' and a smilin' to folks about the weather or literatoor or any
+thing, my mind would be hard at work on problems, and I would be a
+takin' silent observations, and musin' on what my eyes beheld.
+
+[Illustration: “SAY!”]
+
+And I had felt more and more satisfied of the wisdom of the conclusion
+I reached on my first interview with Allen Arthur,--that I dast not, I
+dast not let my companion go from me into Washington.
+
+No! I felt that I dast not, as his mind was, let him go into temptation.
+
+I felt that he wanted to make money out of the Government I loved; and
+after I had looked round me, and observed persons and things, I felt
+that he would do it.
+
+I felt that _I_ dast not let him go.
+
+I knew that he wanted to help them that helped him, without no deep
+thought as to the special fitness of uncle Nate Gowdy and Ury Henzy for
+governmental positions. And after I had enquired round a little, and
+considered the heft of his mind, and the weight of example, I felt he
+would do it.
+
+And I _dast_ not let him go.
+
+And, though I knew his hand was middlin' free now, still I realized that
+other hands just as free once had had rings slipped into 'em, and was
+led by 'em whithersoever the ring-makers wished to lead them.
+
+I dast _not_ let him go.
+
+I knew that now his morals, though small (he don't weigh more'n a
+hundred,--bones, moral sentiments, and all), was pretty sound and firm,
+the most of the time. But the powerful winds that blew through them
+broad streets of Washington from every side, and from the outside, and
+from the under side, powerful breezes, some cold, and some powerful hot
+ones--why, I felt that them small morals, more than as likely as not,
+would be upsot, and blowed down, and tore all to pieces.
+
+I dast not _let_ him go.
+
+I knew he was willin' to buy votes. If willin' to buy,--the fearful
+thought hanted me,--mebby he would be willin' to sell; and, the more I
+looked round and observed, the more I felt that he would.
+
+I felt that I dast not let _him_ go.
+
+No, no! I dast not let him _go_.
+
+I was a musin' on this thought at the breakfast-table where I sot with
+Cicely, the boy not bein' up. I was settin' to the table as calm and
+cool as my toast (which was _very_ cool), when the hired man brought me
+a letter; and I opened it right there, for I see by the post-mark it
+was from my Josiah. And I read as follers, in dismay and anguish, for I
+thought he was crazy:--
+
+MI DEER WYF,--Kum hum, I hav got a crik in mi bak. Kum hum, mi deer Sam,
+kum hum, or I shal xpire. Mi gord has withurd, mi plan has faled, I am a
+undun Josire. Tung kant xpres mi yernin to see u. I kant tak no kumfort
+lookin at ure kam fisiognimy in ure fotogrof, it maks mi hart ake, u luk
+so swete, I fere u hav caut a bo. Kum hum, kum hum.
+
+Ure luvin kompanien,
+
+JOSIRE.
+
+vers ov poetry.
+
+  Mi krik is bad, mi ink is pale:
+  Mi luv for u shal never fale.
+
+I dropt my knife and fork (I had got about through eatin', anyway), and
+hastened to my room. Cicely followed me, anxious-eyed, for I looked bad.
+
+I dropped into a chair; and almost buryin' my face in my white linen
+handkerchief, I give vent to some moans of anguish, and a large number
+of sithes. And Cicely says,--
+
+“What is the matter, aunt Samantha?”
+
+And I says,--
+
+“Your poor uncle! your poor uncle!”
+
+“What is the matter with him?” says she.
+
+And I says, “He is crazy as a loon. Crazy and got a creek, and I must
+start for home the first thing in the mornin'.”
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S SORROW.]
+
+She says, “What do you mean?” and then I showed her the letter, and says
+as I did so,--
+
+“He has had too much strain on his mind, for the size of it. His plans
+have been too deep. He has grappled with too many public questions.
+I ortn't to have left him alone with politics. But I left him for his
+good. But never, never, will I leave that beloved man agin, crazy, or no
+crazy, creek, or no creek.
+
+“Oh!” says I, “will he never, never more be conscious of the presence of
+the partner of his youth and middle age? Will he never realize the deep,
+constant love that has lightened up our pathway?”
+
+I wept some. But I thought that mebby he would know my cream biscuit and
+other vittles, I felt that he would re_cog_nise them.
+
+But by this time Cicely had got the letter read through; and she said
+“he wuzn't crazy, it was the new-fashioned way of spelling;” she said
+she had seen it; and so I brightened up, and felt well: though, as I
+told her,--
+
+“The creek would drive me home in the mornin'.” Says I, “Duty and Love
+draws me, a willin' captive, to the side of my sufferin' Josiah. I shall
+go home on that creek.” Says I, “Woman's first duty is to the man she
+loves.” Says I, “I come here on that duty, and on that duty I shall go
+back, and the creek.”
+
+Cicely didn't feel as if she could go the next day, for there was to be
+a great meetin' of the friends of temperance, in a few days, there; and
+she wanted to attend to it; she wanted to help all she could; and then,
+there wus a person high in influence that she wanted to converse with
+on the subject. That good little thing was willin' to do _any thing_ for
+the sake of the boy and the Right.
+
+But I says to her, “I _must_ go, for that word 'plan' worrys me; it
+worrys me far more than the creek: and I see my partner is all unstrung,
+and I must be there to try to string him up agin.”
+
+So it wus decided, that I should start in the morning, and Cicely come
+on in a few days: she was all boyed up with the thought that at this
+meetin' she could get some help and hope for the boy.
+
+But, after Cicely went to bed, I sot there, and got to thinkin' about
+the new spellin', and felt that I approved of it. My mind is such that
+_instantly_ I can weigh and decide.
+
+I took some of these words, photograph, philosophy, etc., in one hand,
+and in the other I took filosify and fotograf; and as I hefted 'em, I
+see the latter was easier to carry. I see they would make our language
+easier to learn by children and foreigners; it would lop off a lot
+of silent letters of no earthly use; it would make far less labor in
+writin', in printin', in cost of type, and would be better every way.
+
+Cicely said a good many was opposed to it on account of bein' attached
+to the old way. But I don't feel so, though I love the old things with a
+love that makes my heart ache sometimes when changes come. But my reason
+tells me that it hain't best to be attached to the old way if the new is
+better.
+
+Now, I s'pose our old 4 fathers was attached to the idee of hitchin' an
+ox onto a wagon, and ridin' after it. And our old 4 mothers liked the
+idee of bein' perched up on a pillion behind the old 4 fathers. I s'pose
+they hated the idee of gettin' off of that pillion, and onhitchin' that
+ox. But they had to, they had to get down, and get up into phaetons and
+railway cars, and steamboats.
+
+And I s'pose them old 4 people (likely creeters they wuz too) hated the
+idee of usin' matches; used to love to strike fire with a flint, and
+trample off a mild to a neighber's on January mornin's (and their
+mornin's was _very_ early) to borrow some coals if they had lost their
+flint. I s'pose they had got attached to that flint, some of 'em, and
+hated to give it up, thought it would be lonesome. But they had to; and
+the flint didn't care, it knew matches was better. The calm, everlasting
+forces of Nature don't murmur or rebel when they are changed for newer,
+greater helps. No: it is only human bein's who complain, and have the
+heartache, because they are so sot.
+
+[Illustration: OUR 4 PARENTS.]
+
+But whether we murmur, or whether we are calm, whether we like it, or
+whether we don't, we have to move our tents. We are only campin' out,
+here; and we have to move our tents along, and let the new things push
+us out of the way. The old things now, are the new ones of the past; and
+what seems new to us, will soon be the old.
+
+Why, how long does it seem, only a minute, since we was a buildin' moss
+houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse? Beautiful, fresh
+rooms, carpeted with the green moss, with bright young faces bendin'
+down over 'em. Where are they now? The dust of how many years--I don't
+want to think how many--has sifted down over them velvet-carpeted
+mansions, turned them into dust.
+
+And the same dust has sprinkled down onto the happy heads of the fresh,
+bright-faced little group gathered there.
+
+[Illustration: BORROWING COALS.]
+
+Charley, and Alice! oh! the dust is very deep on her head,--the dust
+that shall at last lay over all our heads. And Louis! Bright blue eyes
+there may be to-day, old Time, but none truer and tenderer than his.
+But long ago, oh! long ago, the dust covered you--the dust that is older
+than the pyramids, old, and yet new; for on some mysterious breeze it
+was wafted to you, it drifted down, and covered the blue eyes and the
+brown eyes, hid the bright faces forever.
+
+And the years have sprinkled down into Charley's grave business head
+tiresome dust of dividends and railway shares. Kate and Janet, and Will
+and Helen and Harry--where are you all to-day, I wonder? But though I do
+not know that, I do know this,--that Time has not stood still with any
+of you. The years have moved you along, hustled you forward, as they
+swept by. You have had to move along, and let other bright faces stand
+in front of you.
+
+You are all buildin' houses to-day that you think are more endurin'. But
+what you build to-day--hopes built upon worldly wealth, worldly fame,
+household affection, political success--ah I will they not pass
+away like the green moss houses down in the woods back of the old
+schoolhouse?
+
+Yes, they, too, will pass away, so utterly that only their dust will
+remain. But God grant that we may all meet, happy children again, young
+with the new life of the immortals, on some happy playground of the
+heavenly life!
+
+But poor little houses of moss and cedar boughs, you are broken down
+years and years ago, trampled down into dust, and the dust blown away
+by the rushin' years. Blown away, but gathered up agin by careful old
+Nature, nourishin' with it a newer, fresher growth.
+
+I don't s'pose any of us really hanker after growin' old; sometimes I
+kinder hate to; and so I told Josiah one day.
+
+And he says, “Why, we hain't the only ones that is growin' old. Why,
+everybody is as old as we be, that wuz born, at the same time; and lots
+of folks are older. Why, there is uncle Nate Gowdey, and aunt Seeny:
+they are as old agin, almost.”
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD SCHOOLHOUSE]
+
+Says I, “That is a great comfort to meditate on, Josiah; but it don't
+take away all the sting of growin' old.”
+
+And he said “he didn't care a dumb about it, if he didn't have to work
+so hard.” He said “he'd fairly love to grow old if he could do it easy,
+kinder set down to it.”
+
+(Now, that man don't work so very hard. But don't tell him I said so:
+he's real fractious on that subject, caused, I think, by rheumatiz, and
+mebby the Plan.)
+
+I told Josiah that it wouldn't make growin' old any easier to set down,
+than it would to stand up.
+
+I don't s'pose it makes much difference about our bodies, anyway; they
+are only wrappers for the soul: the real, person is within. But then,
+you know, you get sort o' attached to your own body, yourself, you know,
+if you have lived with yourself any length of time, as we have, a good
+many of us.
+
+You may not be handsome, but you sort o' like your own looks, after all.
+Your eyes have a sort of a good look to you. Your hands are soft and
+white; and they are your own too, which makes 'em nearer to you; they
+have done sights for you, and you can't help likin' 'em. And your mouth
+looks sort o' agreable and natural to you.
+
+You don't really like to see the dimpled, soft hands change into an
+older person's hands; you kinder hate to change the face for an older,
+more care-worn face; you get sick of lookin'-glasses.
+
+And sometimes you feel a sort of a homesick longin' for your old
+self--for the bright, eager face that looked back to you from the old
+lookin'-glass on summer mornin's, when the winder was open out into the
+orchard, and the May birds was singin' amidst the apple-blows. The red
+lips parted with a happy smile; the bright, laughin' eyes, sort o' soft
+too, and wistful--wishful for the good that mebby come to you, and mebby
+didn't, but which the glowin' face was sure of, on that spring morning
+with the May birds singin' outside, and the May birds singin' inside.
+
+[Illustration: A MAY MORNING.]
+
+Time may have brought you somethin' better--better than you dreamed of
+on that summer mornin'. But it is different, anyhow; and you can't help
+gettin' kinder homesick, longin', wantin' that pretty young face again,
+wantin' the heart back again that went with it.
+
+Wall, I s'pose we shall have it back--sometime. I s'pose we shall get
+back our lost youth in the place where we first got it. And it is all
+right, anyway.
+
+We must move on. You see, Time won't stop to argue with us, or dicker;
+and our settin' down, and coaxin' him to stop a minute, and whet his
+scythe, and give us a chance to get round the swath he cuts, won't
+ammount to nothin' only wastin' our breath. His scythe is one that don't
+need any grindstun, and his swath is one that must be cut.
+
+No! Time won't lean up aginst fence corners, and wipe his brow on a
+bandanna, and hang round. He jest moves right on--up and down, up and
+down. On each side of us the ripe blades fall, and the flowers; and
+pretty soon the swath will come right towards us, the grass-blades will
+fall nearer and nearer--a turn of the gleamin' scythe, and we, too, will
+be gone. The sunlight will rest on the turf where our shadows were, and
+one blade of grass will be missed out of that broad harvest-field more
+than we will be, when a few short years have rolled by.
+
+The beauty and the clamor of life will go on without us. You see, we
+hain't needed so much as we in our egotism think we are. The world will
+get along without us, while we rest in peace.
+
+But until then we have got to move along: we can't set down anywhere,
+and set there. No: if we want to be fore mothers and fore fathers, we
+mustn't set still: we must give the babies a chance to be fore mothers
+and fore fathers too. It wouldn't be right to keep the babies from bein'
+ancestors.
+
+We must keep a movin' on. How the summer follows the spring, and the
+winter follows the autumn, and the years go by! And the clouds sail on
+through the sky, and the shadows follow each other over the grass, and
+the grass fadeth.
+
+And the sun moves down the west, and the twilight follows the sun, and
+at last the night comes--and then the stars shine.
+
+Strange that all this long revery of my mind should spring from that
+letter of my pardner's. But so it is. Why, I sot probable 3 fourths of
+a hour--entirely by the side of myself. Why, I shouldn't have sensed
+whether I was settin' on a sofy in a Washington boarding-house (a hard
+one too), or a bed of flowers in Asia Minor, or in the middle of the
+Desert of Sarah. Why, I shouldn't have sensed Sarah or A. Minor at all,
+if they had stood right by me, I was so lost and unbeknown to myself.
+
+But anon, or pretty nigh that time (for I know it was ten when I got
+into bed, and it probable took me 1/2 an hour to comb out my hair and
+wad it up, and ondress), I rousted up out of my revery, and realized
+I was Josiah Allen's wife on a tower of Principle and Discovery. I
+realized I was a forerunner, and on the eve of return to the bosom of my
+family (a linen bosom, with five pleats on a side).
+
+Wall, I rose betimes in the mornin', or about that time, and eat a good,
+noble breakfast, so's to start feelin' well; embraced Cicely and the
+boy, who asked me 32 questions while I was embracin' him. I kissed him
+several times, with hugs according; and then I took leave of Sally and
+Bub Smith. I paid for my board honorable, although Sally said she would
+not take any pay for so short a board. But I knew, in her condition,
+boards of any length should be paid for. So I insisted, and the board
+was paid for. I also rewarded Bub Smith for his efforts at doin' my
+errents, in a way that made his blushes melt into a glowin' background
+of joyousness.
+
+And then, havin' asked the hired man to get a covered carriage to convey
+my body to the depot, and my trunk, I left Washington, D.C.
+
+The snort of the engine as it ketched sight of me, sounded friendly to
+me. It seemed to say to me,--
+
+“Forerunner, your runnin' is done, and well done! Your labors of duty
+and anxiety is over. Soon, soon will you be with your beloved pardner at
+home.”
+
+Home, the dearest word that was ever said or sung.
+
+The passengers all looked good to me. The men's hats looked like
+Josiah's. They looked out of their eyes some as he did out of hisen:
+they looked good to me. There was one man upbraidin' his wife about some
+domestic matter, with crossness in his tone, but affectionate care and
+interest in his mean. Oh, how good, and sort o' natural, he did look to
+me! it almost seemed as if my Josiah was there by my side.
+
+Never, never, does the cords of love fairly pull at your heart-strings,
+a drawin' you along towards your heart's home, your heart's desire, as
+when you have been off a movin' round on a tower. I longed for my dear
+home, I yearned for my Josiah.
+
+I arrove at Jonesville as night was a lettin' down her cloudy mantilly
+fringed with stars (there wuzn't a star: I jest put that in for oritory,
+and I don't think it is wrong if I tell of it right away).
+
+[Illustration: AT THE DEPOT.]
+
+Evidently Josiah's creek wus better; for he wus at the depot with the
+mair, to convey my body home. He wus stirred to the very depths of his
+heart to see me agin; but he struggled for calmness, and told me in a
+voice controlled by his firm will, to “hurry and get in, for the mair
+wus oneasy stand-in' so long.”
+
+I, too, felt that I must emulate his calmness; and I says,--
+
+“I can't get in no faster than I can. Do hold the mair still, or I can't
+get in at all.”
+
+“Wall, wall! hain't I a holdin' it? Jump in: there is a team behind a
+waitin'.”
+
+After these little interchanges of thought and affection, there was
+silence between us. Truly, there is happiness enough in bein' once more
+by the side of the one you love, whether you speak or not. And, to
+tell the truth, I was out of breath hurryin' so. But few words were
+interchanged until the peaceful haven of home was reached.
+
+Some few words, peaceful, calm words were uttered, as to what we
+wus goin' to have for supper, and a desire on Josiah's part for a
+chicken-pie and vegitables of all kinds, and various warm cakes and
+pastries, compromised down to plans of tender steak, mashed potatoes,
+cream biscuit, lemon custard, and coffee. It wus settled in peace and
+calmness. He looked unstrung, very unstrung, and wan, considerable wan.
+But I knew that I and the supper could string him up agin; and I felt
+that I would not speak of the plan or the creek, or any agitatin'
+subject, until the supper was over, which resolve I follered. After the
+table was cleared, and Josiah looked like a new man,--the girl bein' out
+in the kitchen washin' the dishes,--I mentioned the creek; and he owned
+up that he didn't know as it was exactly a creek, but “it was a dumb
+pain, anyway, and he felt that he must see me.”
+
+It is sweet, passing sweet, to be missed, to be necessary to the
+happiness of one you love. But, at the same time, it is bitter to know
+that your pardner has prevaricated to you, and so the sweet and the
+bitter is mixed all through life.
+
+I smiled and sithed simultaneous, as it were, and dropped down the
+creek.
+
+Then with a calm tone, but a beatin' heart, I took up the Plan, and
+presented it to him. I wanted to find out the heights and depths of that
+Plan before I said a word about my own adventures at Washington, D.C.
+Oh, how that plan had worried me! But the minute I mentioned it, Josiah
+looked as if he would sink. And at first he tried to move off the
+subject, but I wouldn't let him. I held him up firm to that plan, and,
+to use a poetical image, I hitched him there.
+
+Says I, “You know what you told me, Josiah,--you said that plan would
+make you beloved and revered.”
+
+He groaned.
+
+Says I, “You know you said it would make you a lion, and me a lioness:
+do you remember, Josiah Allen?”
+
+He groaned awful.
+
+Says I firmly, “It didn't make you a lion, did it?”
+
+He didn't speak, only sithed. But says I firmly, for I wus bound to come
+to the truth of it,--
+
+“Are you a lion?”
+
+“No,” say she, “I hain't.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “then what be you?”
+
+“I am a fool,” says he bitterly, “a dumb fool.”
+
+“Wall,” says I encouragingly, “you no need to have laid on plans, and I
+needn't have gone off on no towers of discovery, to have found that out.
+But now,” says I in softer axents, for I see he did indeed look agitated
+and melancholy,--
+
+“Tell your Samantha all about it.”
+
+Says he mournfully, “I have got to find 'The Gimlet.'”
+
+[Illustration: ARE YOU A LION?]
+
+“The Gimlet!” I sithed to myself; and the wild and harrowin' thought
+went through me like a arrow,--that my worst apprehensions had been
+realized, and that man had been a writing poetry.
+
+But then I remembered that he had promised me years ago, that he never
+would tackle the job agin. He begun to make a poem when we was first
+married; but there wuzn't no great harm done, for he had only wrote two
+lines when I found it out and broke it up.
+
+Bein' jest married, I had a good deal of influence over him; and he
+promised me sacred, to never, _never_, as long as he lived and breathed,
+try to write another line of poetry agin. We was married in the spring,
+and these 2 lines was as follers:--
+
+  “How happified this spring appears--
+  More happier than I ever knew springs to be, _shears_.”
+
+And I asked him what he put the “shears” in for, and he said he did it
+to rhyme. And then was the time, then and there, that I made him promise
+on the Old Testament, _never_ to try to write a line of poetry agin. And
+I felt that he _could_ not do himself and me the bitter wrong to try it
+agin, and still I trembled.
+
+And right while I was tremblin', he returned, and silently laid “The
+Gimlet” in my lap, and sot down, and nearly buried his face in his
+hands. And the very first piece on which the eye of my spectacle rested,
+was this: “Josiah Allen on a Path-Master.”
+
+And I dropped the paper in my lap, and says I,--
+
+“_What_ have you been doing _now_, Josiah Allen? Have you been a
+fightin'? What path-master have you been on?”
+
+“I hain't been on any,” says he sadly, out from under his hand. “I
+headed it so, to have a strong, takin' title. You know they 'pinted me
+path-master some time ago.”
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING TREATED.]
+
+I groaned and sithed to that extent that I was almost skairt at myself,
+not knowin' but I would have the highstericks unbeknown to me (never
+havin' had 'em, I didn't know exactly what the symptoms was), and I felt
+dredfully. But anon, or pretty nigh anon, I grew calmer, and opened the
+paper, and read. It seemed to be in answer to the men who had nominated
+him for path-master, and it read as follers:--
+
+JOSIAH ALLEN ON A PATH-MASTER.
+
+Feller Constituents and Male Men of Jonesville and the surroundin' and
+adjacent worlds!
+
+I thank you, fellow and male citizents, I thank you heartily, and
+from the depths of my bein', for the honor you have heaped onto me, in
+pintin' me path-master.
+
+But I feel it to be my duty to decline it. I feel that I must keep
+entirely out of political matters, and that I cannot be induced to be
+path-master, or President, or even United-States senator. I have not got
+the constitution to stand it. I don't feel well a good deal of the time.
+My liver is out of order, I am liable to have the ganders any minute,
+I am bilious, am troubled with rheumatiz and colic, my blood don't
+circulate proper, I have got a weak back, and lumbago, and biles. And
+I hain't a bit well. And I dassent put too much strain on myself, I
+dassent.
+
+And then, I am a husband and a father. I have sacred duties to perform
+about, nearer and more sacred duties, that I dast not put aside for any
+others.
+
+I am a husband. I took a tender and confidin' woman away from a happy
+home (Mother Smith's, in the east part of Jonesville), and transplanted
+her (carried her in a one-horse wagon and a mare) into my own home. And
+I feel that it is my first duty to make that home the brightest spot on
+earth to her. That home is my dearest and most sacred treasure. And how
+can I disturb its sweet peace with the wild turmoil of politics? I can
+not. I dast not.
+
+And politics are dangerous to enter into. There is bad folks in
+Jonesville 'lection day,--bad men, and bad women. And I am liable to be
+led astray. I don't want to be led astray, but I feel that I am liable
+to.
+
+I have to hear swearin'. Now, I don't swear myself. (I don't call “dumb”
+ swearin', nor never did.) I don't swear, but I think of them oaths
+afterwards. Twice I thought of 'em right in prayer-meetin' time, and it
+worrys me.
+
+I have to see drinkin' goin' on. I don't want to drink; but they offer
+to treat me, old friends do, and Samantha is afraid I shall yield to the
+temptation; and I am most afraid of it myself.
+
+Yes, politics is dangerous and hardenin'; and, should I enter into the
+wild conflict, I feel that I am in danger of losin' all them tender,
+winnin' qualities that first won me the love of my Samantha. I dare not
+imperil her peace, and mine, by the effort.
+
+I can not, I dast not, put aside these sacred duties that Providence has
+laid upon me. My wive's happiness is the first thing I must consider.
+Can I leave her lonely and unhappy while I plunge into the wild turmoil
+of caurkusses and town-meetin's, and while I go to 'lection, and vote?
+No.
+
+And the time I would have to spend in study in order to vote
+intelligent, I feel as if that time I must use in strugglin' to promote
+the welfare and happiness of my Samantha. No, I dassent vote, I dassent
+another time.
+
+Again, another reason. I have a little grandchild growin' up around me.
+I owe a duty to her. I must dandle her on my knee. I must teach her the
+path of virtue and happiness. If I do not, who will? For though there
+are plenty to make laws, and to vote, little Samantha Joe has but one
+grandpa on her mother's side.
+
+And then, I have sights of cares. The Methodist church is to be kep' up:
+I am one of the pillows of the church, and sometimes it rests heavy on
+me. Sometimes I have to manage every way to get the preacher's salary. I
+am school-trustee: I have to grapple with the deestrict every spring and
+fall. The teachers are high-headed, the parents always dissatisfied,
+and the children act like the Old Harry. I am the salesman in the
+cheese-factory. Anarky and quarellin' rains over me offen that
+cheese-factory; and its fault-findin', mistrustin' patrons, embitters my
+life, and rends my mind with cares.
+
+The care of providin' for my family wears onto me; for though Samantha
+tends to things on the inside of the house, I have to tend to things
+outside, and I have to provide the food she cooks.
+
+And then, I have a great deal of work to do. Besides my barn-chores, and
+all the wearin' cares I have mentioned, I have five acres of potatoes to
+hoe and dig, a barn to shingle, a pig-pen to new cover, a smoke-house to
+fix, a bed of beets and a bed of turnips to dig,--ruty bagys,--and four
+big beds of onions to weed--dumb 'em! and six acres of corn to husk. My
+barn-floor at this time is nearly covered with stooks. How dare I leave
+my barn in confusion, and, by my disorderly doin's, run the risk of my
+wive's bein' so disgusted with my want of neatness and shiftlessness, as
+to cause her to get dissatisfied with home and husband, and wander off
+into paths of dissipation and vice? Oh! I dassent, I dassent, take the
+resk! When I think of all the terrible evils that are liable to
+come onto me, I feel that I dassent vote agin, as long as I live and
+breathe--I dast not have any thing whatever to do with politics.
+
+FINY. THE END.
+
+I read it all out loud, every word of it, interrupted now and then, and
+sometimes oftener, by the groans of my pardner. And as I finished, I
+looked round at him, and I see his looks was dretful. And I says in
+soothin' tones--for oh! how a companion's distress calls up the tender
+feelin's of a lovin' female pardner!
+
+Says I, “It hain't the worst piece in the world, Josiah Allen! It is as
+sensible as lots of political pieces I have read.” Says I, “Chirk up!”
+
+“It hain't the piece! It is the way it was took,” says he. “Life has
+been a burden to me ever sense that appeared in 'The Gimlet.' Tongue
+can't tell the way them Jonesvillians has sneered and jeered at me, and
+run me down, and sot on me.”
+
+I sithed, and remained a few moments almost lost in thought; and then
+says I,--
+
+“Now, if you are more composed and gathered together, will you tell your
+companion how you come to write it? what you did it _for?_”
+
+“I did it to be populer,” says he, out from under his hand. “I thought I
+would branch off, and take a new turn, and not act so fierce and wolfish
+after office as most of 'em did. I thought I would get up something new
+and uneek.”
+
+“Wall, you have, uneeker than you probable ever will agin. But, if you
+wanted to be a senator, _why_ did you refuse to have any thing to do
+with politics?”
+
+“I did it to be _urged_,” says he, in the same sad, despairin' tones. “I
+made the move to be loved--to be the favorite of the Nation. I thought
+after they read that, they would be fierce to promote me, fierce
+as blood-hounds. I thought it would make me the most populer man in
+Jonesville, and that I should be sought after, and praised up, and
+follered.”
+
+“What give you that idee?” says I calmly.
+
+“Why, don't you remember Letitia Lanfear? She wrote a article sunthin'
+like this, only not half so smart and deep, when she was nominated for
+school-trustee, and it jest lifted her right up. She never had been
+thought any thing off in Jonesville till she wrote that, and that was
+the makin' of her. And she hadn't half the reason to write it that I
+have. She hadn't half nor a quarter the cares that I have got. She was a
+widder, educated high, without any children, with a comfortable income,
+and she lived in her brother's family, and didn't have _no_ cares at
+all.
+
+“And only see how that piece lifted her right up! They all said, what
+right feelin', what delicacy, what a noble, heart-stirrin', masterly
+document hern was! And I hankered, I jest hankered, after bein' praised
+up as she was. And I thought,” says he with a deep sithe, “I thought I
+should get as much agin praise as she did. I thought I should be twice
+as populer, because it wus sunthin' new for a _man_ to write such a
+article. I thought I should be all the rage in Jonesville. I thought I
+should be a lion.”
+
+[Illustration: LETITIA LANFEAR.]
+
+“Wall, accordin' to your tell, they treat you like one, don't they?”
+
+“Yes,” says he, “speakin' in a wild animal way.” Says he, growin'
+excited, “I wish I _wuz_ a African lion right out of a jungle: I'd
+teach them Jonesvillians to get out of my way. I'd love, when they was
+snickerin', and pokin' fun at me, and actin' and jeerin' and sneerin',
+and callin' me all to nort, I'd love to spring onto 'em, and roar.”
+
+“Hush, Josiah,” says I. “Be calm! be calm!”
+
+“I won't be calm! I can't see into it,” he hollered. “Why, what lifted
+Letitia Lanfear right up, didn't lift me up. Hain't what's sass for the
+goose, sass for the gander?”
+
+“No,” says I sadly. “It hain't the same sass. The geese have to get the
+same strength from it,--strength to swim in the same water, fly over the
+same fences, from the same pursuers and avengers; and they have to grow
+the same feathers out of it; but the sass, the sass is fur different.
+
+“But,” says I, “I don't approve of all your piece. A man, as a general
+thing, has as much time as a woman has. And I'd love to see the
+time that I couldn't do a job as short as puttin' a letter in the
+post-office. Why, I never see the time, even when the children was
+little, and in cleanin' house, or sugarin'-time, but what I could ride
+into Jonesville every day, to say nothin' of once a year, and lay a vote
+onto a pole. And you have as much time as I do, unless it is springs
+and falls and hayin'-time. And if _I_ could do it, _you_ could. I don't
+approve of such talk.
+
+“And you know very well that you and I had better spend a little of our
+spare time a studyin' into matters, so as to vote intelligently; study
+into the laws that govern us both,--that hang us if we break 'em, and
+protect us if we obey 'em,--than to spend it a whittling shingles, or
+wonderin' whether Miss Bobbet's next baby will be a boy or a girl.”
+
+“Wall,” says he, takin' his hand down, and winkin',--a sort of a shrewd,
+knowin' wink, but a sad and dejected one, too, as I ever see wunk,--
+
+“I didn't have no idee of stoppin' votin'.”
+
+Says I coldly, as cold as Zero, or pretty nigh as coldblooded as the old
+man,--
+
+“Did you write that article _jest_ for the speech of people? Didn't you
+have no principle to back it up?”
+
+“Wall,” says he mournfully, “I wouldn't want it to get out of the
+family, but I'll tell you the truth. I didn't write it on a single
+principle, not a darn principle. I wrote it jest for popularity, and to
+make 'em fierce to promote me.”
+
+I groaned aloud, and he groaned. It wus a sad and groanful time.
+
+Says he, “I pinned my faith onto Letitia Lanfear. And I can't understand
+now, why a thing that made Letitia so populer, makes me a perfect
+outcast. Hain't we both human bein's--human Methodists and
+Jonesvillians?” Says he, in despairin', agonized tone, “I can't see
+through it.”
+
+Says I soothenly, “Don't worry about that, Josiah, for nobody can. It
+is too deep a conundrum to be seen through: nobody has ever seen through
+it.”
+
+But it seemed as if he couldn't be soothed; and agin he kinder sithed
+out,--
+
+“I pinned my faith onto Letitia, and it has ondone me;” and he kinder
+whimpered.
+
+But I says firmly, but gently,--
+
+“You will hear to your companion another time, will you not? and pin
+your faith onto truth and justice and right?”
+
+“No, I won't. I won't pin it onto nothin' nor nobody. I'm done with
+politics from this day.”
+
+And bad as we both felt, this last speech of hisen made a glimmer of
+light streak up, and shine into my future. Some like heat lightenin' on
+summer evenin's. It hain't so much enjoyment at the time, but you know
+it is goin' to clear the cloudy air of the to-morrow. And so its light
+is sweet to you, though very curious, and crinkley.
+
+And as mournful and sort o' curious as this time seemed to me and to
+Josiah, yet this speech of hisen made me know that all private and
+public peril connected with Hon. Josiah Allen was forever past away. And
+that thought cast a rosy glow onto my to-morrows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+I found, on lookin' round the house the next mornin', that Philury had
+kep' things in quite good shape. Although truly the buttery looked like
+a lonesome desert, and the cubbards like empty tents the Arabs had left
+desolate.
+
+But I knew I could soon make 'em blossom like the rosy with provisions,
+which I proceeded at once to do, with Philury's help.
+
+While I wus a rollin' out the pie-crust, Philury told me “she had
+changed her mind about long engagements.”
+
+And while I wus a makin' the cookies, she broached it to me that “she
+and Ury was goin' to be married the next week.”
+
+I wus agreable to the idee, and told her so. I like 'em both. Ury is a
+tall, limber-jinted sort of a chap, sandy complected, and a little
+round shouldered, but hard-workin' and industrious, and seems to take a
+interest.
+
+His habits are good: he never drinks any thing stronger than root-beer,
+and he never uses tobacco--never has chawed any thing to our house
+stronger than gum. He used that, I have thought sometimes, more than
+wuz for his good. And I thought it must be expensive, he consumed such
+quantities of it. But he told me he made it himself out of beeswax and
+rozum.
+
+And I told Josiah that I shouldn't say no more about it; because,
+although it might be a foolish habit, gum was not what you might call
+inebriatin'; it was not a intoxicatin' beverage, and didn't endanger the
+publick safety. So he kep' on a chawin' it, to home and abroad. He kep'
+at it all day, and at night if he felt lonesome.
+
+I had mistrusted this, because I found a great chunk now and then on the
+head-board; and I tackled him about it, and he owned up.
+
+“When he felt lonesome in the night,” he said, “gum sort o' consoled
+him.”
+
+[Illustration: URY.]
+
+Well, I thought that in a great lonesome world, that needed comfort
+so much, if he found gum a consoler, I wouldn't break it up. So I kep'
+still, and would clean the head-board silently with kerosine and a
+woolen rag.
+
+And Philury is a likely girl. Very freckled, but modest and unassuming.
+She is little, and has nice little features, and a round little face;
+and though she can't be said to resemble it in every particular, yet
+I never could think of any thing whenever I see her, but a nice little
+turkey-egg.
+
+She is very obligin', and would always curchy and smile, and say “Yes'm”
+ whenever I asked her to do any thing. She always would, and always will,
+I s'pose, do jest what you tell her to,--as near as she can; and she is
+thought a good deal of.
+
+Wall, she has liked Ury for some time--that has been plain to see: she
+thought her eyes of him, and he of her. He has got eight or nine hundred
+dollars laid up; and I thought it was well enough for 'em to marry if
+they wanted to, and so I told Josiah the first time he come into the
+house that forenoon.
+
+And he said “he guessed our thinkin' about it wouldn't alter it much,
+one way or the other.”
+
+And I said “I s'posed not.” But says I, “I spoke out, because I feel
+quite well about it. I like 'em both, and think they'll make a happy
+couple: and to show my willin'ness still further, I mean to make a
+weddin' for her; for she hain't got no mothers, and Miss Gowdy won't
+have it there, for you know there has been such a hardness between 'em
+about that grindstun. So I'll have it here, get a good supper, and have
+'em married off respectable.”
+
+He hung back a little at first, but I argued him down. Says I,--
+
+“I have heerd you say, time and agin, that you liked 'em, and wanted 'em
+to do well: now, what do good wishes ammount to, unless you are willin'
+to back 'em up with good acts?” Says I, “I might say that I wished 'em
+well and happy, and that would be only a small expendature of wind, that
+wouldn't be no loss to me, and no petickuler help to them. But if I show
+my good will towards 'em by stirrin' up fruit-cakes and bride-cake, and
+pickin' chickens, and pressin' 'em, and makin' ice-cream and coffee
+and sandwitches, and workin' myself completely tired out, a wishin'
+'em well, why, then they can depend on it that I am sincere in my good
+wishes.”
+
+“Wall,” says Josiah, “if you wish me well, I wish you would get me a
+little sunthin' to eat before I starve: it is past eleven o'clock.”
+
+“The hand is on the pinter,” says I calmly. “But start a good fire, and
+I will get dinner.”
+
+So he did, and I did, and he never made no further objections to my
+enterprise; and it was all understood that I should get their weddin'
+supper, and they should start from here on their tower.
+
+And I offered, as she and Miss Gowdy didn't agree, that she might come
+back here, if she wanted to, and get some quiltin' done, and get ready
+for housekeepin'. She was tickled enough with the idee, and said she
+would help me enough to pay for her board. Ury's time wouldn't be out
+till about a month later.
+
+I told her she needn't work any for me. But she is a dretful handy
+little thing about the house, or outdoors. When Josiah was sick, and
+when the hired man happened to be away, she would go right out to the
+barn, and fodder the cattle jest as well as a man could. And Josiah said
+she milked faster than he could, to save his life. Her father had nine
+girls and no boys; and he brought some of the girls up when they was
+little, kinder boy-like, and they knew all about outdoor work.
+
+Wall, it was all decided on, that they should come right back here jest
+as soon as they ended their tower. They was a goin' to Ury's sister's,
+Miss Reuben Henzy's, and laid out to be gone about four days, or from
+four days to a week.
+
+And I went to cookin' for the weddin' about a week before it took place.
+I thought I would invite the minister and his wife and family, and
+Philury's sister-in-law's family,--the only one of her relations
+who lived near us, and she was poor; and her classmates at Sunday
+school,--there was twelve of 'em,--and our children and their families.
+And I asked Miss Gowdey'ses folks, but didn't expect they would come,
+owin' to that hardness about the grindstun. But everybody else come that
+was invited; and though I am far from bein' the one that ort to say it,
+the supper was successful. It was called “excellent” by the voice, and
+the far deeper language of consumption.
+
+They all seemed to enjoy it: and Ury took out his gum, and put it under
+the table-leaf before he begun to eat; and I found it there afterwards.
+He was excited, I s'pose, and forgot to take it agin when he left the
+table.
+
+Philury looked pretty. She had on a travellin'-dress of a sort of a warm
+brown,--a color that kinder set off her freckles. It was woosted,
+and trimmed with velvet of a darker shade; and her hat and her gloves
+matched.
+
+Her dress was picked out to suit me. Ury wanted her to be married in
+a yellow tarleton, trimmed with red. And she was jest that obleegin',
+clever creeter, that she would have done it if it hadn't been for me.
+
+[Illustration: THE WEDDING SUPPER.]
+
+I says to her and to him,--
+
+“What use would a yeller tarleton trimmed with red be to her after
+she is married, besides lookin' like fury now?” Says I, “Get a good,
+sensible dress, that will do some good after marriage, besides lookin'
+good now.” Says I, “Marriage hain't exactly in real life like what it
+is depictered in novels. Life don't end there: folks have to live
+afterwards, and dress, and work.” Says I, “If marriage was really what
+it is painted in that literature--if you didn't really have nothin' to
+do in the future, only to set on a rainbow, and eat honey, why, then,
+a yaller tarleton dress with red trimmin's would be jest the thing to
+wear. But,” says I, “you will find yourself in the same old world, with
+the same old dishcloths and wipin'-towels and mops a waitin' for you to
+grasp, with the same pair of hands. You will have to konfront brooms and
+wash-tubs and darnin'-needles and socks, and etcetery, etcetery. And you
+must prepare yourself for the enkounter.”
+
+She heerd to me; and that very day, after we had the talk, I took her
+to Jonesville, drivin' the old mare myself, and stood by her while she
+picked it out.
+
+And thinkin' she was young and pretty, and would want somethin' gay and
+bright, I bought some flannel for a mornin'-dress for her, and give it
+to her for a present. It was a pretty, soft gray and pink, in stripes
+about half a inch wide, and would be pretty for her for years, to wear
+in the house, and when she didn't feel well.
+
+I knew it would wash.
+
+She was awful tickled with it. And I bought a present for Ury on that
+same occasion,--two fine shirts, and two pair of socks, with gray toes
+and heels, to match the mornin'-dress. I do love to see things kompared,
+especially in such a time as this.
+
+My weddin' present for 'em was a nice cane-seat rocker, black walnut,
+good and stout, and very nice lookin'. And, knowin' she hadn't no
+mother to do for her, I gave her a pair of feather pillows and a
+bed-quilt,--one that a aunt of mine had pieced up for me. It was a
+blazin' star, a bright red and yeller, and it had always sort o' dazzled
+me.
+
+Ury worshiped it. I had kept it on his bed ever sense I knew what
+feelin's he had for it. He had said “that he didn't see how any thing so
+beautiful could be made out of earthly cloth.” And I thought now was my
+time to part with it.
+
+Wall, they had lots of good presents. I had advised the children, and
+the Sunday-school children, that, if they was goin' to give 'em any
+thing, they would give 'em somethin' that would do 'em some good.
+
+Says I, “Perforated paper lambrequins, and feather flowers, and
+cotton-yarn tidies, look well; but, after all, they are not what you may
+call so nourishin' as some other things. And there will probable rise
+in their future life contingencies where a painted match-box, and a
+hair-pin receiver, and a card-case, will have no power to charm. Even
+china vases and toilet-sets, although estimable, will not bring up a
+large family, and educate them, especially for the ministry.”
+
+I s'pose I convinced 'em; for, as I heerd afterwards, the class had
+raised fifty cents apiece to get perforated paper, woosted yarn, and
+crystal beads. But they took it, and got her a set of solid silver
+teaspoons: the store-keeper threw off a dollar or two for the occasion.
+They was good teaspoons.
+
+And our children got two good linen table-cloths, and a set of
+table-napkins; and the minister's wife brought her four towels, and the
+sister-in-law a patch-work bed-quilt. And Reuben Henzy's wife sent 'em
+the money to buy 'em a set of chairs and a extension table; and a rich
+uncle of hisen sent him the money for a ingrain carpet; and a rich uncle
+of hern in the Ohio sent her the money for a bedroom set,--thirty-two
+dollars, with the request that it should be light oak, with black-walnut
+trimmin's.
+
+And I had all the things got, and took 'em up in one of our chambers,
+so folks could see 'em. And I beset Josiah Allen to give 'em for his
+present, a nice bedroom carpet. But no: he had got his mind made up to
+give Ury a yearlin' calf, and calf it must be. But he said “he would
+give in to me so fur, that, seein' I wanted to make such a show, if I
+said so, he would take the calf upstairs, and hitch it to the bed-post.”
+
+But I wouldn't parlay with him.
+
+Wall, the weddin' went off first-rate: things went to suit me, all but
+one thing. I didn't love to see Ury chew gum all the time they was bein'
+married. But he took it out and held it in his hand when he said “Yes,
+sir,” when the minister asked him, would he have this woman. And when
+she was asked if she would have Ury, she curchied, and said, “Yes, if
+you please,” jest as if Ury was roast veal or mutton, and the minister
+was a passin' him to her. She is a good-natured little thing, and always
+was, and willin'.
+
+Wall, they was married about four o'clock in the afternoon; and Josiah
+sot out with 'em, to take 'em to the six o'clock train, for their tower.
+
+The company staid a half-hour or so afterwards: and the children stayed
+a little longer, to help me do up the work; and finally they went. And
+I went up into the spare chamber, and sort o' fixed Philury's things to
+the best advantage; for I knew the neighbors would be in to look at 'em.
+And I was a standin' there as calm and happy as the buro or table,--and
+they looked very light and cheerful,--when all of a sudden the door
+opened, and in walked Ury Henzy, and asked me,--
+
+“If I knew where his overhauls was?”
+
+You could have knocked me down with a pin-feather, as it were, I was so
+smut and dumb-foundered.
+
+Says I, “Ury Henzy, is it your ghost?” says I, “or be you Ury?”
+
+“Yes, I am Ury,” says he, lookin', I thought, kinder disappointed and
+curious.
+
+“Where is Philury?” says I faintly.
+
+[Illustration: “YES, IF you PLEASE.”]
+
+“She has gone on her tower,” says he.
+
+Says I, “Then, you be a ghost: you hain't Ury, and you needn't say you
+be.”
+
+But jest at that minute in come Josiah Allen a snickerin'; and says
+he,--
+
+“I have done it now, Samantha. I have done somethin' now, that is new
+and uneek.”
+
+And as he see my strange and awful looks, he continued, “You know, you
+always say that you want a change now and then, and somethin' new, to
+pass away time.”
+
+“And I shall most probable get it,” says I, groanin', “as long as I live
+with you. Now tell me at once, what you have done, Josiah Allen! I know
+it is your doin's.”
+
+“Yes,” says he proudly, “yes, mom. Ury never would have thought of it,
+or Philury. I got it up myself, out of my own head. It is original, and
+I want the credit of it all myself.”
+
+Says I faintly, “I guess you won't be troubled about gettin' a patent
+for it.” Says I, “What ever put it into your head to do such a thing as
+this?”
+
+“Why,” says he, “I got to thinkin' of it on the way to the cars. Philury
+said she would love to go and see her sister in Buffalo; and Ury, of
+course, wanted to go and see his sister in Rochester. And I proposed to
+'em that she should go first to Buffalo, and see her folks, and when she
+got back, he should go to Rochester, and see his folks. I told her that
+I needed Ury's help, and she could jest as well go alone as not, after
+we got her ticket. And then in a week or so, when she had got her visit
+made out, she could come back, and help do the chores, and tend to
+things, and Ury could go. Ury hung back at first. But she smiled, and
+said she would do it.”
+
+I groaned aloud, “That clever little creeter! You have imposed upon her,
+and she has stood it.”
+
+“Imposed upon her? I have made her a heroine.
+
+“Folks will make as much agin of her. I don't believe any female ever
+done any thing like it before,--not in any novel, or any thing.”
+
+“No,” I groaned. “I don't believe they ever did.”
+
+“It will make her sought after. I told her it would. Folks will jest run
+after her, they will admire her so; and so I told her.”
+
+Says I, “Josiah Allen, you did it because you didn't want to milk. Don't
+try to make out that you had a good motive for this awful deed. Oh,
+dear! how the neighbors will talk about it!”
+
+“Wall, dang it all, when they are a talkin' about this, they won't be
+lyin' about something else.”
+
+“O Josiah Allen!” says I. “Don't ever try to do any thing, or say any
+thing, or lay on any plans agin, without lettin' me know beforehand.”
+
+“I'd like to know why it hain't jest as well for 'em to go one at a
+time? They are both _a goin_ You needn't worry about _that_. I hain't a
+goin' to break _that_ up.”
+
+I groaned awful; and he snapped out,--
+
+“I want sunthin' to eat.”
+
+“To eat?” says I. “Can you eat with such a conscience? Think of that
+poor little freckled thing way off there alone!”
+
+“That poor little freckled thing is with her folks by this time, as
+happy as a king.” But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun
+to feel bad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but
+he tried to keep up, and says he, “My conscience is clear, clear as
+a crystal goblet; and my stomack is as empty as one. I didn't eat a
+mouthful of supper. Cake, cake, and ice-cream, and jell! a dog couldn't
+eat it. I want some potatoes and meat!”
+
+And then he started out; and I went down, and got a good supper, but I
+sithed and groaned powerful and frequent.
+
+Philury got home safely from her bridal tower, lookin' clever, but
+considerable lonesome.
+
+Truly, men are handy on many occasions, and in no place do they seem
+more useful and necessary than on a weddin' tower.
+
+Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah would
+whisper to me every chance he got,--
+
+“That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and
+there wuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower.” Josiah always
+stands up for his sect.
+
+And I would answer him every time,--
+
+“That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together,
+like human bein's.”
+
+And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' about
+the milkin'. _There was where the shoe pinched_.
+
+Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back from
+Washington. And he stopped lookin' cross, and looked placid, and
+sunshiny. That man thinks his eyes of Cicely, both of 'em; and so do I.
+
+But I see that she looked fagged out.
+
+And she told me how hard she had worked ever sence she had been gone.
+She had been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done
+every thing she could with her influence and her money. She was willin'
+to spend her money like rain-water, if it would help any.
+
+But she said it seemed as if the powers against it was greater than
+ever, and she was heart-sick and weary.
+
+She had had another letter from the executor, too, that worried her.
+
+She told me that, after she went up to her room at night, and the boy
+was asleep.
+
+She had took off her heavy mournin'-dress, covered with crape, and put
+on a pretty white loose dress; and she laid her head down in my lap, and
+I smoothed her shinin' hair, and says to her,--
+
+“You are all tired out to-night, Cicely: you'll feel better in the
+mornin'.”
+
+But she didn't: she was sick in bed the next day, and for two or three
+days.
+
+And it was arranged, that, jest as quick as she got well enough to go,
+I was to go with her to see the executor, to see if we couldn't make him
+change his mind. It was only half a day's ride on the cars, and I'd go
+further to please her.
+
+But she was sick for most a week. And the boy meant to be good. He
+wanted to be, and I know it.
+
+But though he was such a sweet disposition, and easy to mind, he was
+dretful easy led away by temptation, and other boys.
+
+Now, Cicely had told him that he _must not_ go a fishin' in the creek
+back of the house, there was such deep places in it; and he must not go
+there till he got older.
+
+And he would _mean_ to mind, I would know it by his looks. He would look
+good and promise. But mebby in a hour's time little Let Peedick would
+stroll over here, and beset the boy to go; and the next thing she'd
+know, he would be down to the creek, fishin' with a bent pin.
+
+[Illustration: LED ASTRAY.]
+
+And Cicely had told him he _mustn't_ go in a swimmin'. But he went;
+and because it made his mother feel bad, he would deceive her jest as
+good-natured as you ever see.
+
+Why, once he come in with his pretty brown curls all wet, and his little
+shirt on wrong side out.
+
+He was kinder whistlin', and tryin' to act indifferent and innocent. And
+when his mother questioned him about it, he said,--
+
+“He had drinked so much water, that it had soaked through somehow to his
+hair. And he turned his shirt gettin' over the fence. And we might ask
+Let Peedick if it wuzn't so.”
+
+We could hear Letty a whistlin' out to the barn, and we knew he stood
+ready to say “he see the shirt turn.”
+
+But we didn't ask.
+
+But when the boy see that his actin' and behavin' made his mother feel
+real bad, he would ask her forgiveness jest as sweet; and I knew he
+meant to do jest right, and mebby he would for as much as an hour, or
+till some temptation come along--or boy.
+
+But the good-tempered easiness to be led astray made Cicely feel like
+death: she had seen it in another; she see it was a inherited trait. And
+she could see jest how hard it was goin' to make his future: she would
+try her best to break him of it. But how, how was she goin' to do it,
+with them weak, good-natured lips, and that chin?
+
+But she tried, and she prayed.
+
+And, oh, how we all loved the boy! We loved him as we did the apples in
+our eyes.
+
+But as I said, he was a child that had his spells. Sometimes he would
+be very truthful and honest,--most too much so. That was when he had his
+sort o' dreamy spells.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY'S EXPLANATION.]
+
+I know one day, she that wus Kezier Lum come here a visitin'. She is
+middlin' old, and dretful humbly.
+
+Paul sot and looked at her face for a long time, with that sort of a
+dreamy look of hisen; and finally he says,--
+
+“Was you ever a young child?”
+
+And she says,--
+
+“Why, law me! yes, I s'pose so.”
+
+And he says,--
+
+“I think I would rather have died young, than to grow up, and be so
+homely.”
+
+[Illustration: SHE THAT WUS KEZIER LUM.]
+
+I riz up, and led him out of the room quick, and told him “never to talk
+so agin.”
+
+And he says,--
+
+“Why, I told the truth, aunt Samantha.”
+
+“Wall, truth hain't to be spoken at all times.”
+
+“Mother punished me last night for not telling the truth, and told me to
+tell it always.”
+
+And then I tried to explain things to him; and he looked sweet, and said
+“he would try and remember not to hurt folks'es feelin's.”
+
+He never thought of doin' it in the first place, and I knew it. And I
+declare, I thought to myself, as I went back into the room,--
+
+“We whip children for tellin' lies, and shake 'em for tellin' the truth.
+Poor little creeters! they have a hard time of it, anyway.”
+
+But when I went back into the room, I see Kezier was mad. And she said
+in the course of our conversation, that “she thought Cicely was too
+much took up on the subject of intemperance, and some folks said she was
+crazy on the subject.”
+
+Kezier was always a high-headed sort of a woman, without a nerve in her
+body. I don't believe her teeth has got nerves; though I wouldn't want
+to swear to it, never havin' filled any for her.
+
+And I says back to her, for it made me mad to see Cicely run,--
+
+Says I, “She hain't the first one that has been called crazy, when they
+wus workin' for truth and right. And if the old possles stood it, to be
+called crazy, and drunken with new wine--why, I s'pose Cicely can.”
+
+“Wall,” says she, “don't you believe she is almost crazy on that
+subject?”
+
+Says I, deep and earnest, “It is a _good_ crazy, if it is. And,” says I,
+“to s'posen the case,--s'posen the one we loved best in the world, your
+Ebineezer, or my Josiah, should have been ruined, and led into murder,
+by drinkin' milk, don't you believe we should have been sort o' crazy
+ever afterwards on the milk question?”
+
+“Why,” says she, “milk won't make anybody crazy.”
+
+There it wuz--she hadn't no imagination.
+
+Says I, “I am s'posen milk, I don't mean it.” Says I, “Cicely means
+well.”
+
+And so she did, sweet little soul.
+
+But day by day I could see that her eagerness to accomplish what she had
+sot out to, her awful anxiety about the boy's future, wus a wearin' on
+her: the active, keen mind, the throbbin', achin' heart, was a wearin'
+out the tender body.
+
+Her eyes got bigger and bigger every day; and her face got the
+solemnest, curiusest look to it, that I ever see.
+
+And her cheeks looked more and more like the pure white blow of the
+Sweet Cicely, only at times there would be a red upon 'em, as if a leaf
+out of a scarlet rose had dropped dowrn upon their pure whiteness.
+
+That would be in the afternoon; and there would be such a dazzlin'
+brightness in her eyes, that I used to wonder if it was the fire of
+immortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes.
+
+And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have been
+executed with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)--he wuz sot,
+a good man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the
+ground than he wuz sot on top of it. And he didn't like a woman's
+interference. He wrote to her that one of her stores, that he had always
+rented for the sale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool
+blankets, and etcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a
+new saloon and billiard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose;
+and he told how much more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons,
+that wuz in the boy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a
+drawin' some other mother's boys down to ruin.
+
+Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said,--said she was afraid
+the curses of these mothers would fall on the boy.
+
+And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face
+grew thinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks
+regular every afternoon, and she begun to cough bad.
+
+But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went to
+see the executor, Condelick Post.
+
+We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove
+there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out
+for Mr. Post'ses office.
+
+[Illustration: CONDELICK POST.]
+
+He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so at
+her, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be
+to tell her errent. I knew he would do every thing jest as she wanted
+him to. His smile was truly bland--I don't think I ever see a blander
+one, or amiabler.
+
+I guess she was kinder encouraged, too, for she begun real sort o'
+cheerful a tellin' what she come for,--that she wanted him to rent these
+buildin's for some other purpose than drinkin' and billiard saloons.
+
+And he went on in jest as cheerful a way, almost jokeuler, to tell
+her “that he couldn't do any thing of the kind, and he was doing the
+business to the best of his ability, and he couldn't change it at all.”
+
+And then Cicely, in a courteus, reasonable voice, begun to argue with
+him; told him jest how bad she felt about it, and urged him to grant her
+request.
+
+But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half
+so polite.
+
+And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued the
+right of the thing.
+
+She said when she was married, her husband took the whole of her
+property, and invested it for her in these very buildings. And in
+reality, it was her own property. The most of her husband's wealth was
+in the mills and government bonds. But she wanted her money invested
+here, because she wanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let
+the interest accumulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel,
+for the workmen at the mills.
+
+And says she, “Is it _right_ that my own property should be used for
+what I consider such wicked purposes?”
+
+“Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any
+other investment that I have been able to make. And you know your
+husband's will provides handsomely for you--the yearly allowance is very
+handsome indeed.”
+
+“It is all I wish, and more than I care for. I am not speaking of that.”
+
+“Yes, it is very handsome indeed. And by the time Paul is of age, in the
+way I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man
+in this section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints,
+will be of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony.”
+
+“It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight of
+heavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives.”
+
+“All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But there
+will be nothing of the kind, I assure you,” says he, with a patronizing
+smile. “It will all be invested in government bonds,--good, honest
+dollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them.”
+
+“Yes, and these words, 'In God we trust.' But do you know,” says
+she, with the red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes
+brighter,--“do you know, if one did not possess great faith, they would
+be apt to doubt the existence of a God, who can allow such injustice?”
+
+“What injustice, my dear madam?” says he, smilin' blandly.
+
+“You know, Mr. Post, just how my husband died: you know he was killed
+by intemperance. A drinking-saloon was just as surely the cause of his
+death, as the sword is, that pierces through a man's heart. Intemperance
+was the cause of his crime. He, the one I loved better than my own self,
+infinitely better, was made a murderer by it. I have lost him,” says
+she, a throwin' out her arms with a wild gesture that skairt me. “I have
+lost him by it.”
+
+And her eyes looked as big and wild and wretched, as if she was lookin'
+down the endless ages of eternity, a tryin' to find her love, and knew
+she couldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed to
+conquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, and
+speak calmly for the sake of her boy.
+
+“And now, after I have suffered by it as I have, is it right, is it
+just, that I should be compelled to allow my property to be used to
+make other women's hearts, other mothers' hearts, ache as mine must ache
+forever?”
+
+“But, my dear madam, the law, as it is now, gives me the right to do as
+I am doing.”
+
+“I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant my
+prayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, to
+beg for mercy.”
+
+“O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women are
+the real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a
+rod of iron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real
+autocrats of--of the breakfast-table, and of life.”
+
+You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago.
+He forgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had
+almost entirely gone out of fashion. And it was a good deal more stylish
+now to talk to wimmen as if they wuz human bein's, and men wuz too.
+
+But Cicely looked at him calm and earnest, and says,--
+
+“Will you do as I wish you to in this matter?”
+
+“Well, really, my dear madam, I don't quite get at your meaning.”
+
+“Will you let this store remain as it is, and rent those other saloons
+to honest business men for some other purpose than drinking-saloons?”
+
+“O my dear, dear madam! What can you be thinking of? The rent that I get
+from those four buildings is equal in amount to any eight of the other
+buildings of the same size. I cannot, I cannot, consent to make any
+changes whatever.”
+
+“You will not, then, do as I wish?”
+
+“I _cannot_, my dear madam: I prefer to put it in that way,--I cannot. I
+do not see as you do in the matter. And as the law empowers me to use my
+own discretion in renting the buildings, investing money, etc., I shall
+be obliged to do so.”
+
+Cicely got up: she was white as snow now, but as quiet as snow ever wus.
+
+Mr. Post got up, too, about the politest actin' man I ever see, a movin'
+chairs out of the way, and a smilin', and a waitin' on us out. He was
+ready to give plenty of politeness to Cicely, but no justice.
+
+And I guess he was kinder sorry to see how white and sad she looked, for
+he spoke out in a sort of a comfortin' voice,--
+
+“You have had great sorrows, Mrs. Slide, but you have also a great deal
+to comfort you. Just think of how many other widows have been left in
+poverty, or, as you may say, penury, and you are rich.”
+
+Cicely turned then, and made the longest speech I ever heard her make.
+
+[Illustration: LICENSED WRETCHEDNESS.]
+
+“Yes, many a drunkard's wife is clothed in rags, and goes hungry to bed
+at night, with her hungry children crying for bread about her. She can
+lie on her cold pile of rags, with the snow sifting down on her, and
+think that her husband, a sober, honest man once, was made a low,
+brutal wretch by intemperance; that he drank up all his property, killed
+himself by strong drink, was buried in a pauper's grave, and left a
+starving wife and children, to live if they could. The cold of winter
+freezes her, the want of food makes her faint, and to see her little
+ones starving about her makes her heart ache, no doubt. I have plenty of
+money, fine clothes, dainty food, diamonds on my fingers.”
+
+Says she, stretching out her little white hands, and smilin' the
+bitterest smile I ever see on Cicely's face,--
+
+“But do you not think, that, as I lie on my warm, soft couch at night,
+my heart is wrung by a keener pang than that drunkard's wife can ever
+know? I can lie and think that by my means, my wealth, I am making just
+such homes as that, making just such broken hearts, just such starving
+children, filling just such paupers' graves,--laying up a long store of
+curses and judgments, for my boy's inheritance. And I am powerless to do
+any thing but suffer.”
+
+And she opened the door, and walked right out. And Mr. Post stood and
+smiled till we got to the bottom of the stairs.
+
+“Good-afternoon, _good_-afternoon, my clear madam, call again; happy to
+see you--_Good_-afternoon.”
+
+Wall, Cicely went right to bed the minute we got home; and she never eat
+a mite of supper, only drinked a cup of tea, and thanked me so pretty
+for bringin' it to her.
+
+And there was such a sad and helpless, and sort of a outraged, look in
+her pretty brown eyes, some as a noble animal might have, who wus at bay
+with the cruel hunters all round it. And so I told Josiah after I went
+down-stairs.
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 87 questions about “a animal at
+bay,” and what kind of a bay it was--was it the bay to a barn? or on the
+water? or--
+
+Oh my land! my land! How I did suffer!
+
+But Cicely grew worse fast, from that very day. She seemed to run right
+down.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+One day Cicely had been worryin' dretfully all the forenoon about the
+boy. And I declare, it seemed so pitiful to hear her talk and forebode
+about him, with her face lookin' so wan and white, and her big eyes
+so sorrowful lookin', as if they was lookin' onto all the sadness
+and trouble of the world, and couldn't help herself--such a sort of a
+hopeless look, and lovin' and broken-hearted, that it was all I could do
+to stand it without breakin' right down, and cry in' with her.
+
+But I knew her state, and held firm. And she went over all the old
+grounds agin to me, that she had foreboded on; and I went over all the
+old grounds of soothing agin and agin.
+
+Why, good land! I had had practice enough. For every day, and every
+night, would she forebode and forebode, and I would soothe and soothe,
+till I declare for't, I should have felt (to myself) a good deal like
+a bread-and-milk poultice, or even lobelia or catnip, if my feelin's
+on the subject hadn't been so dretful deep and solemn, deeper than any
+poultice that was ever made--and solemner.
+
+Why, Tirzah Ann says to me one day,--she had been settin' with Cicely
+for a hour or two; and she come out a cryin', and says she,--
+
+“Mother, I don't see how you can stand it. It would break my heart to
+see Cicely's broken-hearted look, and hear her talk for half a day; and
+you have to hear her all the time.” And she wiped her eyes.
+
+And I says, “Tongue can't tell, Tirzah Ann, how your ma's heart does
+ache for her. And,” says I, “if I knew myself, I had got to die and
+leave a boy in the world with such temptations round him, and such a
+chin on him, why, I don't know what I should do, and what I shouldn't
+do.”
+
+And says Tirzah Ann, “That is jest the way I feel, mother;” and we both
+of us wiped our eyes.
+
+But I held firm before her, and reminded her every time, of what she
+knew already,--“that there was One who was strong, who comforted her in
+her hour of need, and He would watch over the boy.”
+
+And sometimes she would be soothed for a little while, and sometimes she
+wouldn't.
+
+Wall, this day, as I said, she had worried and worried and worried. And
+at last I had soothed her down, real soothed. And she asked me before
+I went down-stairs, for a poem, a favorite one of hers,--“The Celestial
+Country.” And I gin it to her. And she said I might shet the door, and
+she would read a spell, and she guessed she should drop to sleep.
+
+And as I was goin' out of the room, she called me back to hear a verse
+or two she particularly liked, about the “endless, ageless peace of
+Syon:”--
+
+  “True vision of true beauty,
+  Sweet cure of all distrest.”
+
+And I stood calm, and heard her with a smooth, placid face, though I
+knew my pies was a scorchin' in the oven, for I smelt 'em. I did well by
+Cicely.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA LISTENING TO CICELY.]
+
+After she finished it, I told her it was perfectly beautiful, and I left
+her feelin' quite bright; and there wuzn't but one of my pies spilte,
+and I didn't care if it wuz. I wuzn't goin' to have her feelin's hurt,
+pies or no pies.
+
+After I got my pies out, I went into my nearest neighbor's on a errent,
+tellin' Josiah to stay in Thomas Jefferson's room, just acrost from
+Cicely's, so's if she wanted any thing, he could get it for her. I
+wuzn't gone over a hour, and, when I went back, I went up-stairs the
+first thing; and I found Cicely a cryin,' though there was a softer,
+more contented look in her eyes than I had seen there for a long time.
+
+And I says, “What is the matter, Cicely?”
+
+And she says,--
+
+“Oh! if I had been a better woman, I could have seen my mother! she has
+been here!”
+
+“Why, Cicely!” says I. “Here, take some of this jell.”
+
+But she put it away, and says in a sort of a solemn, happy tone,--
+
+“She has been here!”
+
+She said it jest as earnest and serene as I ever heard any thing said;
+and there was a look in her eyes some as there wuz when she come home
+from her aunt Mary's, and told me “she almost wished her aunt had died
+while she was there, because she felt that her mother would be the angel
+sent from heaven to convey her aunt's soul home--and she could have seen
+her.”
+
+There was that same sort of deep, soulful, sad, and yet happy look to
+her eyes, as she repeated,--
+
+“She has been here! I was lying here, aunt Samantha, reading 'The
+Celestial Country,' not thinking of any thing but my book, when suddenly
+I felt something fanning my forehead, like a wing passing gently over
+my face. And then something said to me just as plain as I am speaking to
+you, only, instead of being spoken aloud, it was said to my soul,--
+
+“'You have wanted to see your mother: she is here with you.'
+
+“And I dropped my book, and sprung up, and stood trembling, and reached
+out my hands, and cried,--“'Mother! mother! where are you? Oh! how I
+have wanted you, mother!'
+
+“And then that same voice said to my heart again,--
+
+“'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+“And as I stood there trembling, the room seemed full. You know how you
+would feel if your eyes were shut, and you were placed in a room full of
+people. You would know they were there--you would feel their presence,
+though you couldn't see them. You know what the Bible says,--'Seeing we
+are encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses.' That word just
+describes what I felt. There seemed to be all about me, a great cloud
+of people. And I put my arms out, and made a rush through them, as you
+would through a dense crowd, and said again,--
+
+“'Mother! mother! where are you? Speak to me again.'
+
+“And then, suddenly, there seemed to be a stir, a movement in the room,
+something I was conscious of with some finer, more vivid sense than
+hearing. It seemed to be a great crowd moving, receding. And farther
+off, but clear, these words came to me again, sweet and solemn,--
+
+“'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+“And then I seemed to be alone. And I went out into the hall; and uncle
+Josiah heard me, and he came out, and asked me what the matter was.
+
+“And I told him 'I didn't know.' And my strength left me then; and he
+took me up in his arms, and brought me back into my room, and laid me on
+the lounge, and gave me some wine, and I couldn't help crying.”
+
+“What for, dear?” says I.
+
+“Because I wasn't good enough to see my mother. If I had only been good
+enough, I could have seen her. For she was here, aunt Samantha, right in
+this room.”
+
+Her eyes wus so big and solemn and earnest, that I knew she meant what
+she said. But I soothed her down as well as I could, and I says,--
+
+“Mebby you had dropped to sleep, Cicely: mebby you dremp it.”
+
+“Yes,” says Josiah, who had come in, and heard my last words.
+
+“Yes, Cicely, you dremp it.”
+
+Wall, after a while Cicely stopped cryin', and dropped to sleep.
+
+And now what I am goin' to tell you is the _truth_. You can believe it,
+or not, jest as you are a mind to; but it is the _truth_.
+
+That night, at sundown, Thomas J. come in with a telegram for Cicely;
+and she says, without actin' a mite surprised,--
+
+“Aunt Mary is dead.”
+
+And sure enough, when she opened it, it was so. She died jest before the
+time Cicely come out into the hall. Josiah remembered plain. The clock
+had jest struck two as she opened the door.
+
+Her aunt died at two.
+
+This is the plain truth; and I will make oath to it, and so will Josiah.
+And whether Cicely dremp it, or whether she didn't; whether it wus jest
+a coincidin' coincidence, her havin' these feelin's at exactly the time
+her aunt died, or not,--I don't know any more than you do. I jest put
+down the facts, and you can draw your own inferences from 'em, and draw
+'em jest as fur as you want to, and as many of 'em.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON BRINGING CICELY'S TELEGRAM.]
+
+But that night, way along in the night, as I lay awake a musin' on it,
+and a wonderin',--for I say plain that my specks hain't strong enough to
+see through the mysteries that wrap us round on every side,--I s'posed
+my companion wus asleep; but he spoke out sudden like, and decided, as
+if I had been a disputin' of him,--
+
+“Yes, most probable she dremp it.”
+
+“Wall,” says I, “I hain't disputed you.”
+
+“Hain't you a goin' to?” says he.
+
+“No,” says I. And that seemed to quiet him down, and he went to sleep.
+
+And I give up, that most probable she did, or didn't, one of the two.
+
+[Illustration: “MOST PROBABLE SHE DREMP IT.”]
+
+But anyway, from that night, she didn't worry one bit about the boy.
+
+She would talk to him sights about his bein' a good boy, but she would
+act and talk as if she was _sure_ he would. She would look at him, not
+with the old, pitiful, agonized look, but with a sweet and happy light
+in her eyes.
+
+And I guessed that she thought that the laws would be changed before
+the boy was of age. I thought that she felt real encouraged to think
+the march of civilization was a marchin' on, pretty slow but sure,
+and, before the boy got old enough to go out into a world full of
+temptations, there would be wiser laws, purer influences, to help the
+boy to be a good and noble man, which is about the best thing we know
+of, here below.
+
+No, she never worried one worry about him after that day, not a single
+worry. But she made her will, and it was fixed lawful too. She wanted
+Paul to stay with us till he was old enough to send off to school and
+college. And she wanted her property and Paul's too, if he should die
+before he was of age, should be used to found a school, and a home for
+the children of drunkards. A good school and a Christian home, to teach
+them and help them to be good, and good citizens.
+
+Josiah Allen and Thomas J. and I was appinted to see to it, appinted
+by law. It was to be right in them buildings that wus used now for
+dram-shops: them very housen was to be used to send out good influences
+and spirits into the world instead of the vile, murderous, brutal
+spirits, they wus sendin' out now.
+
+And wuzn't it sort o' pitiful to think on, that Cicely had to _die_
+before her property could be used as she wanted it to be,--could be
+used to send out blessings into the world, instead of 'cursings and
+wickedness, as it was now? It was pitiful to look on it with the eye of
+a woman; but I kep' still, and tried to look on it with the eye of the
+United States, and held firm.
+
+And we give her our solemn promises, that in case the job fell to us
+to do, it should be tended to, to the very best of our three abilities.
+Thomas J., bein' a good lawyer, could be relied on.
+
+The executor consented to it,--I s'pose because he was so dretful
+polite, and he thought it would be a comfort to Cicely. He knew there
+wuzn't much danger of its ever takin' place, for Paul was a healthy
+child. And his appetite was perfectly startlin' to any one who never see
+a child's appetite.
+
+I estimated, and estimated calmly, that there wuzn't a hour of the day
+that he couldn't eat a good, hearty meal. But truly, it needed a strong
+diet to keep up his strength. For oh! oh! the questions that child would
+ask! He would get me and Philury pantin' for breath in the house, and
+then go out with calmness and strength to fatigue his uncle Josiah and
+Ury nearly unto death.
+
+But they loved him, and so did I, with a deep, pantin', tired-out
+affection. We loved him better and better as the days rolled by: the
+tireder we got with him seemin'ly, the more we loved him.
+
+But one hope that had boyed me up durin' the first weeks of my
+intercourse with him, died out. I did think, that, in the course of
+time, he would get all asked out. There wouldn't be a thing more in
+heavens or on earth, or under the earth, that he hadn't enquired in
+perticular about.
+
+But as days passed by, I see the fallicy of my hopes. Insperation seemed
+to come to him; questions would spring up spontanious in his mind; the
+more he asked, the more spontaniouser they seemed to spring.
+
+Now, for instance, one evenin' he asked me about 3,000 questions about
+the Atlantic Ocian, its whales and sharks and tides and steamships and
+islands and pirates and cable and sailors and coral and salt, and etc.,
+etc., and etcetery; and after a hour or two he couldn't think of another
+thing to ask, seemin'ly. And I begun to get real encouraged, though
+fagged to the very outmost limit of fag, when he drew a long breath, and
+says with a perfectly fresh, vigorous look,--
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY ASKING QUESTIONS.]
+
+“Now less begin on the Pacific.”
+
+And I answered kindly, but with firmness,--
+
+“I can't tackle any more ocians to-night, I am too tuckered out.”
+
+“Well,” says he, glancin' out of the window at the new moon which
+hung like a slender golden bow in the west, “don't you think the moon
+to-night is shaped some like a hammock? and if I set down in it with my
+feet hanging out, would I be dizzy? and if I should curl my feet up, and
+lay back in it, and sail--and sail--and sail up into the sky, could I
+find out about things up in the heavens? Could I find the One up there
+that set me to breathing? And who made the One that made me? And where
+was I before I was made?--and uncle Josiah and Ury? And why wouldn't I
+tell him where we was before we was anywhere? and if we wasn't anywhere,
+did I suppose we would want to be somewhere? and _say_--SAY”--
+
+Oh, dear me! dear me! how I did suffer!
+
+But a better child never lived than he was, and I would have loved to
+seen anybody dispute it. He was a lovely child, and very deep.
+
+And he would back up to you, and get up into your lap, with such a calm,
+assured air of owning you, as if you was his possession by right of
+discovery. And he would look up into your face with such a trustin',
+angelic look as he tackled you, that, no matter how tuckered out you
+would get, you was jest as ready for him the next time, jest as ready to
+be tackled and tuckered.
+
+He was up with his mother a good deal. He would get up on the bed, and
+lay by her side; and she would hold him close, and talk good to him,
+dretful good.
+
+I heard her tellin' him one day, that, “if ever he had a man's influence
+and strength, he must use them wisely, and deal tenderly and gently
+by those who were weaker, and in his power. That a manly man was never
+ashamed of doing what was right, no matter how many opposed him; that it
+was manly and noble to be pure and good, and helpful to all who needed
+help.
+
+“And he must remember, if he ever got tired out and discouraged trying
+to be good himself, and helping others to be good, that he was never
+alone, that his loving Father would always be with him, and _she_
+should. She should never be far away from her boy.
+
+“And it would only be a little while at the longest, before she should
+take him in her arms again, before life here would end, and the new and
+glorious life begin, that he must fit himself for. That life here was so
+short that it wasn't worth while to spend any part of it in less worthy
+work than in loving and serving with all his strength God and man.”
+
+And I thought as I listened to her, that her talk had the simplicity of
+a child, and the wisdom of all the philosiphers.
+
+Yes, she would talk to him dretful good, a holdin' him close in her
+arms, and lookin' on him with that fur-off, happy look in her eyes, that
+I loved and hated to see,--loved to see because it was so beautiful and
+sweet, hated to see because it seemed to set her so fur apart from all
+of us.
+
+It seemed as though, while her body was here below, she herself was a
+livin' in another world than ourn: you could see its bright radience in
+her eyes, hear its sweet and peaceful echoes in her voice.
+
+She was with us, and she wuzn't with us; and I'd smile and cry about it,
+and cry and smile, and couldn't help it, and didn't want to.
+
+And seein' her so satisfied about the boy--why, seein' her feel so good
+about him, made us feel good too. And seein' her so contented and happy,
+made us contented and happy--some.
+
+And so the peaceful weeks went by, Cicely growin' weaker and weaker
+all the time in body, but happier and happier in her mind; so sweet and
+serene, that we all felt, that, instead of being sad, it was somethin'
+beautiful to die.
+
+And as the long, sweet days passed by, the look in her eyes grew
+clearer,--the look that reminded us of the summer skies in early
+mornin', soft and dark, with a prophecy in them of the coming brightness
+and glory of the full day.
+
+[Illustration: TIRZAH ANN AND MAGGIE IN THE DEMOCRAT.]
+
+The mornin' of the last day in June Cicely was not so well; and I sent
+for the doctor in the mornin', and told Ury to have Tirzah Ann and
+Maggie come home and spend the day. Which they did.
+
+And in the afternoon she grew worse so fast, that towards night I sent
+for the doctor again.
+
+He didn't give any hope, and said the end was very near. A little before
+night the boys come,--Thomas Jefferson and Whitfield.
+
+The sun went down; and it was a clear, beautiful evenin', though there
+was no moon. All was still in the house: the lamp was lighted, but the
+doors and windows was open, and the smell of the blossoms outside come
+in sweet; and every thing seemed so peacful and calm, that we could not
+feel sorrowful, much as we loved her.
+
+She had wanted the boy on the bed with her; and I told Josiah and the
+children we would go out, and leave her alone with him. Only, the doctor
+sot by the window, with the lamp on a little stand by the side of him,
+and the mornin'-glories hangin' their clusters down between him and the
+sweet, still night outside.
+
+Cicely's voice was very low and faint; but we could hear her talkin' to
+him, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was
+all still, and we heard the doctor go to the bedside; and we all went
+in,--Josiah and the children and me. And as we stood there, a light fell
+on Cicely's face,--every one in the room saw it,--a white, pure
+light, like no other light on earth, unless it was something like that
+wonderful new light--that has a soul. It was something like that clear
+white light, falling through a soft shade. It was jest as plainly
+visible to us as the lamplight at the other end of the room.
+
+It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on her
+smilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from us
+all. For that strange, beautiful glow on her face wrapped her about,
+separated her from us all, who stood outside.
+
+The boy had fallen asleep, his dimpled arms around her neck, and his
+moist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to her
+heart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed the
+boy.
+
+She heard voices we could not hear, for she answered them in low
+tones,--contented, happy tones. She saw faces we couldn't see, for she
+looked at them with wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us,
+fur away from us who loved her,--we who were on this earth still. Love
+still held her here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the
+human; but her sweet soul had got with its true kindred, the pure in
+heart.
+
+[Illustration: DEATH OF CICELY.]
+
+But still her arms was round the boy,--white, soft arms of flesh, that
+held him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes
+on him; and, oh! what a look that was,--a look of such full peace, and
+rapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all that
+should happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, had
+blossomed, and bore the ripe fruit of blessedness.
+
+At last that beautiful light grew dimmer, and more dim, till it was
+gone--gone with the pure soul of our sweet Cicely.
+
+That night, way along in the night, I wuzn't sleeping, and I wuzn't
+crying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in my
+mind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could
+never forget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when
+they would see an angel standin' with furled wings outside their tents.
+
+I thought Josiah was asleep; but it seems he wuzn't, for he spoke out
+sort o' decided like,--
+
+“Most probable it was the lamp.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+It was a lovely mornin' about three weeks after Cicely's death. Josiah
+had to go to Jonesville to mill, and the boy wanted to go to; and so I
+put on his little cloak and hat, and told him he might go.
+
+We didn't act cast down and gloomy before the boy, Josiah and me didn't.
+He had worried for his ma dretfully, at first. But we had made every
+thing of him, and petted him. And I had told him that she had gone to a
+lovely place, and was there a waitin' for him. And I would say it to him
+with as cheerful a face as I could. (I knew I could do my own cryin',
+out to one side.)
+
+And he believed me. He believed every word I said to him. And he would
+ask me sights and sights of questions about “the _place_.”
+
+And “if it was inside the gate, that uncle Josiah had read about,--that
+gate that was big and white, like a pearl? And if it would float down
+through the sky some day, and stand still in front of him? And would
+the gate swing open so he could see into the City? and would it be all
+glorious with golden streets, and shining, and full of light? And
+would his mamma Cicely stand just inside, and reach out her arms to
+him?--those pretty white arms.”
+
+And then the boy would sob and cry. And I'd soothe him, and swaller
+hard, and say “Yes,” and didn't think it was wicked, when he would be a
+sobbin' so.
+
+And then he'd ask, “Would she take him in her arms, and be glad to see
+her own little boy again? And would he have long to wait?”
+
+And I'd comfort him, and tell him, “No, it wouldn't be but a little time
+to wait.”
+
+And didn't think it was wicked, for it wuzn't long anyway. For “our days
+are but shadows that flee away.”
+
+Wall, he loved us, some. And we loved him, and did well by him; and
+bein' a child, we could sometimes comfort him with childish things.
+
+And this mornin' he wus all excitement about goin' to Jonesville with
+his uncle Josiah. And I gin him some pennys to get some oranges for him
+and the babe, and they set off feelin' quite chirk.
+
+And I sot down to mend a vest for my Josiah. And I was a settin' there a
+mendin' it,--one of the pockets had gin out, and it was frayed round the
+edges.
+
+And I sot there a sewin' on that fray, peaceful and calm and serene as
+the outside of the vest, which was farmer's satin, and very smooth and
+shinin'. The weather also wus as mild and serene as the vest, if not
+serener. I had got my work all done up as slick as a pin: the floor
+glittered like yellow glass, the stove shone a agreable black, a good
+dinner was a cookin'. And I sot there, happy, as I say; for though,
+when I had done so much work that mornin', if that vest had belonged to
+anybody else, it would have looked like a stent to me, I didn't mind it,
+for it was for my Josiah: and love makes labor light,--light as day.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this, and a thinkin' that though I had jest told
+Josiah, from a sense of duty, that “he had broke that pocket down by
+luggin' round so much stuff in it, and there was no sense in actin' as
+if he could carry round a hull car-load of things in his vest-pocket;”
+ though I had spoken to him thus, from a sense of duty, tryin' to keep
+him straight and upright in his demeaner,--still, I was a thinkin' how
+pleasant it wuz to work for them you loved, and that loved you: for
+though he had snapped me up considerable snappish, and said “he should
+carry round in his pockets as much as he was a minter; and if I didn't
+want to mend it, I could let it alone,” and had throwed it down in the
+corner, and slammed the door considerable hard when he went out, still,
+I knew that this slight pettishness was only the light bubbles that
+rises above the sparkling wine. I knew his love for me lay pure and
+clear and sparklin' in the very depths of his soul.
+
+I was a settin' there, thinkin' about it, and thinkin' how true love,
+such as mine and hisen, glorified a earthly existence, when all of a
+sudden I heard a rap come onto the kitchen door right behind me; and I
+says, “Come in.” And a tall, slim feller entered, with light hair, and
+sort o' thin, and a patient, determined countenance onto him. A sort
+of a persistent look to him, as if he wuzn't one to be turned round
+by trifles. I didn't dislike his looks a mite at first, and sot him a
+chair.
+
+But little did I think what was a comin'. For, if you will believe it,
+he hadn't much more than got sot down when he says to me right there, in
+the middle of the forenoon, and right to my face,--the mean, miserable,
+lowlived scamp,--says he, right there, in broad daylight, and without
+blushing, or any thing, says he,--
+
+“I called this morning, mom, to see if I couldn't sell you a feller.”
+
+“Sell me a feller!” I jest made out to say, for I wus fairly paralyzed
+by his impudence. “Sell me a feller!”
+
+“Yes: I have got some of the best kinds they make, and I didn't know but
+I could sell you one.”
+
+Sez I, gettin' my tongue back, “Buy a feller! you ask me, at my age, and
+with my respectability, and after carryin' round such principles as
+I have been carryin' round for years and years, you ask me to buy a
+feller!”
+
+“Yes: I didn't know but you would want one. I have got the best kind
+there is made.”
+
+“I'll let you know, young man,” says I, “I'll let you know that I have
+got a feller of my own, as good a one as was ever made, one I have had
+for 20 years and over.”
+
+“Wall, mom,” says he, with that stiddy, determined way of hisen, “a
+feller that you have had for 20 years must be out of gear by this time.”
+
+“Out of gear!” says I, speakin' up sharp. “You will be out of gear
+yourself, young man, if I hear any more such talk out of your head.”
+
+“I hope you will excuse me, mom,” says he, in that patient way of hisen.
+“It hain't my way to run down anybody's else's fellers.”
+
+“Wall, I guess you hadn't better try it again in this house,” says I
+warmly. “I guess it won't be very healthy for you.”
+
+[Illustration: AGENT TRYING TO SELL SAMANTHA A FELLER.]
+
+“Can't I sell you some other attachment, mom? I have got 'em of all
+kinds.”
+
+“Sell me another attachment? No, sir. You can't sell me another
+attachment. My attachment is as firm and endurin' as the rocks, and has
+always been, and is one not to be bought and sold.”
+
+“I presume yours was good in the day of 'em, mom, but they must be
+old-fashioned. I have the very best and newest attachments of all kinds.
+But I make a specialty of my fellers. You'd better let me sell you a
+feller, mom.”
+
+I declare for't, my first thought was, to turn him right outdoors, and
+shet the door in his face. And then agin, I thought, I am a member of
+the meetin'-house. I must be patient and long sufferin', and may be here
+is a chance for me to do good. Thinks'es I, if I was ever eloquent in a
+good cause, I must be now. I must convince him of the nefariousness of
+his conduct. And if soarin' in eloquence can do it, why, I must soar.
+And so I begun.
+
+Says I, wavin' my right hand in a broad, soarin', eloquent wave, “Young
+man, when you talk about buyin' and sellin' a feller, you are talkin'
+on a solemn subject,--buyin and sellin' attachments! Buyin' and sellin'
+fellers! It hain't nothin' new to me. I've hearn tell of such things,
+but little did I suppose it was a subject I should ever be tackled on.
+
+“But I have hearn of it. I have hearn of wimmen sellin' themselves to
+the highest bidder, with a minister for auctioneer and salesman. I have
+hearn of fathers and mothers sellin' beauty and innocence and youth to
+wicked old age for money--sellin' 'em right in the meetin'-house, under
+the very shadow of the steeple.
+
+[Illustration: THEM THAT SELL DOVES.]
+
+“Jerusalem hain't the only village where God's holy temple has been
+polluted by money-changers and them that sell doves. Many a sweet
+little dove of a girl is made by her father and mother, and other old
+money-changers, to walk up to God's holy altar, and swear to a lie.
+They think her tellin' that lie, makes the infamous bargain more sacred,
+makes the infamous life they have drove her into more respectable.
+
+“There was One who cleansed from such accursed traffic the old Jewish
+temples, but He walks no more with humanity. If he did, would he not
+walk up the broad aisles of our orthodox churches in American
+cities, and release these doves, and overthrow the plots of these
+money-changers?
+
+“But let me tell 'em, that though they can't see Him, He is there; and
+the lash of His righteous wrath will surely descend, not upon their
+bodies, but upon their guilty souls, teachin' them how much more
+terrible it is to sell a life, with all its rich dowery of freedom,
+happiness, purity, immortality.”
+
+Here my breath gin out, for I had used my very deepest principle tone;
+and it uses up a fearful ammount of wind, and is tuckerin' beyend what
+any one could imagine of tucker. You _have_ to stop to collect breath.
+
+And he looked at me with that same stiddy, patient, modest look of
+hisen; and says he, in that low, determined voice,--
+
+“What you say, madam, is very true, and even beautiful and eloquent: but
+time is valuable to me; and as I said, I stopped here this morning to
+see if I could sell”--
+
+“I know you did: I heard you with my own ears. If it had come through
+two or three, or even one, pair of ears besides my own, I couldn't have
+believed 'em--I never could have believed that any human creeter, male
+or female, would have dared to stand up before me, and try to sell me a
+feller! _Sell_ a feller to me! Why, even in my young days, do you s'pose
+I would ever try to _buy_ a feller?
+
+“No, sir! fellers must come free and spontaneous? or not at all. Never
+was I the woman to advance one step towards any feller in the way of
+courtship--havin' no occasion for it, bein' one that had more offers
+than I knew what to do with, as I often tell my husband, Josiah Allen,
+now, in our little differences of opinion. 'Time and agin,' as I tell
+him, 'I might have married, but held back.' And never would I have
+married, never, had not love gripped holt of my very soul, and drawed me
+along up to the marriage alter. I loved the feller I married, and he was
+the only feller in the hull world for me.”
+
+Says he in that low, gentle tone, and lookin' modest and patient as a
+lily, but as determined and sot as ever a iron teakettle was sot over a
+stove,--
+
+“You are under a mistake, mom.”
+
+Says I, “Don't you tell me that agin if you know what is good for
+yourself. I guess I know my own mind. I was past the age of whifflin',
+and foolin' round. I married that feller from pure love, and no other
+reason under the heavens. For there wuzn't any other reason only jest
+that, why I _should_ marry him.”
+
+And for a moment, or two moments, my mind roamed back onto that old,
+mysterious question that has haunted me more or less through my natural
+life, for over twenty years. _Why_ did I marry Josiah Allen? But I
+didn't revery on it long. I was too agitated, and wrought up; and I says
+agin, in tones witherin' enough to wither him,--
+
+“The idee of sellin' me a feller!”
+
+But the chap didn't look withered a mite: he stood there firm and
+immovible, and says he,--
+
+“I didn't mean no offense, mom. Sellin' attachments is what I get my
+living by”--
+
+“Wall, I should ruther not get a livin',” says I, interruptin' of him.
+“I should ruther not live.”
+
+“As I said, mom, I get my livin' that way: and one of your neighbors
+told me that your feller was an old one, and sort o' givin' out; and
+I have got 'em with all the latest improvements, and--and she thought
+mebby I could sell you one.”
+
+“You miserable coot you!” says I. “Do you stop your impudent talk, or I
+will holler to Josiah. What do you s'pose I want with another feller? Do
+you s'pose I'd swap Josiah Allen for all the fellers that ever swarmed
+on the globe? What do you s'pose I care for the latest improvements? If
+a feller was made of pure gold from head to feet, with diamond eyes and
+a garnet nose, do you s'pose he would look so good to me as Josiah Allen
+duz?
+
+“And I would thank the neighbers to mind their own business, and let my
+affairs alone. What if he is a gettin' old and wore out? What if he is
+a givin' out? He is always kinder spindlin' in the spring of the year.
+Some men winter harder than others: he is a little tizicky, and breathes
+short, and his liver may not be the liver it was once; but he will come
+round all right when the weather moderates. And mebby they meant to hint
+and insinuate sunthin' about his bein' so bald, and losin' his teeth.
+
+“But I'll let you know, and I'll let the neighbors know, that I didn't
+marry that man for hair; I didn't marry that man for teeth, and a
+few locks more or less, or a handful of teeth, has no power over that
+love,--that love that makes me say from the very depths of my soul, that
+my feller is one of a thousand.”
+
+“I hain't disputed you, mom,” says he, with his firm, patient look.
+“I dare presume to say that your feller was good in the day of such
+fellers. But every thing has its day: we make fellers far different
+now.”
+
+Says I sarcasticly, givin' him quite a piercin' look, “I know they do:
+I've seen 'em.”
+
+“Yes, they make attachments now very different: yours is old-fashioned.”
+
+“Yes, I know it is: I know that love, such love as hisen and mine, and
+I know that truth and fidelity and constancy, _are_ old-fashioned. But
+I thank God that our souls are clothed with that beautiful old fashion,
+that seamless, flawless robe that wus cut out in Eden, and a few true
+souls have wore ever since.”
+
+“But your attachment will grow older and older, and give out entirely
+after a while. What will you do then?”
+
+“My attachment will _never_ give out.”
+
+“But mom”--
+
+“No, you needn't argue and contend--I say it will _never_ give out. It
+is a heavenly gift dropped down from above, entirely unbeknown. True
+love is not sought after, it comes; and when it comes, it stays.
+Talk about love gettin' old--love _never_ grows old; talk about love
+goin'--love _never_ goes: that which goes is not love, though it has
+been called so time and agin. Talk about love dyin'--why, it _can't_
+die, no more than the souls can, in which its sweet light is born.
+Why, it is a flame that God Himself kindles: it is a bit of His own
+brightness a shinin' down through the darkness of our earthly life, and
+is as immortal and indestructible as His own glory.
+
+“It is the only fountain of Eternal Youth that gushes up through this
+dreary earthly soil, for the refreshin' of men and wimmen, in which the
+weary soul can bathe itself, and find rest.”
+
+“Sometimes,” says he, sort o' dreamily, “sometimes we repair old
+fellers.”
+
+“Wall, you won't repair my feller, I can let you know that. I won't
+have him repaired. The impudence of the hull idee,” says I, roustin' up
+afresh, “goes ahead of any thing I ever dreamed of, of impudence. Repair
+my feller! I don't want him any different. I want him jest as he is. I
+would scorn to repair him. I _could_ if I wanted to,--his teeth could
+be sharpened up, what he has got, and new ones sot in. And I could
+cover his head over with red curls; or I could paint it black, and paste
+transfer flowers onto it. I could have a sot flower sot right on the top
+of his bald head, and a trailin' vine runnin' round his forward. Or I
+could trim it round with tattin', if I wanted to, and crystal beads.
+I could repair him up so he would look gay. But do you s'pose that any
+artificials that was ever made, or any hair, if it was as luxuriant as
+Ayer'ses Vigor, could look so good to me as that old bald head that I
+have seen a shinin' acrost the table from me for so many years?
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AFTER BEING REPAIRED.]
+
+“I tell you, there is memories and joys and sorrows a clusterin' round
+that head, that I wouldn't swap for all the beauty and the treasures of
+the world.
+
+“Memories of happy mornin's dewy fresh, with cool summer breezes a
+comin' in through the apple-blows by the open door, and the light of
+the happy sunrise a shinin' on that old bald head, and then gleamin' off
+into my happy heart.
+
+“There is memories of pleasant evenin' hours, with the tea-table drawed
+up in front of the south door, and the sweet southern wind a comin' in
+over the roses, and the tender light of the sunset, and the waverin'
+shadows of the honeysuckles and mornin'-glorys, fallin' on us, wrappin'
+us all round, and wrappin' all of the rest of the world out.”
+
+Mebby the young chap said sunthin' here, but it was entirely unbeknown
+to me; though I thought I heard the murmur of his voice makin' a sort
+of a tinklin' accompinment to my thoughts, sunthin' like the babble of a
+brook a runnin' along under forest boughs, when the wind with its mighty
+melody is sweepin' through 'em. Great emotions was sweepin' along with
+power, and couldn't be stayed. And I went right on, not sensin' a thing
+round me,--
+
+“There is memories of sabbath drives, in fair June mornin's, through the
+old lane alder and willow fringed, with the brook runnin' along on one
+side of it; where the speckled trout broke the Sunday quiet by dancin'
+up through the brown and gold shadows of the cool water, and the odor of
+the pine woods jest beyend comin' fresh and sweet to us.
+
+[Illustration: “GOIN' TO THE REVIVAL MEETING.”]
+
+“Memories of how that road and that face looked in the week-day dusk, as
+we sot out for the revival meetin', when the sun had let down his long
+bars of gold and crimson and yellow, and had got over 'em, and sunk
+down behind 'em out of sight. And we could ketch glimpses through the
+willow-sprays of them shinin' bars a layin' down on the gray twilight
+field. And fur away over the green hills and woods of the east, the moon
+was a risin', big and calm and silvery. And we could hear the plaintive
+evenin' song of the thrush, and the crickets' happy chirp, till we got
+nearer the schoolhouse, when they sort o' blended in with 'There is a
+fountain filled with blood,' and 'Come, ye disconsolate.'
+
+“And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles,
+shone down and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as
+he helped me out of the wagon.
+
+“Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of
+peace and happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every
+time about the eternal hills, and the shadow of the Rock, and the
+Everlastin' Arms that was a holdin' us both up, me and Josiah, and the
+Everlastin' Love that was wrappin' us round, helpin' us onward by these
+very joys, these very sorrows.
+
+“Memories of the midnight lamp lightin' it up in the chamber of the
+sick, in the long, lonesome hours before day-dawn.
+
+“Memories of its bendin' over the sick ones in happier mornin's, as he
+carried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places at
+the table.
+
+“Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under the
+rainbow when the storm had passed. It stands out from a background of
+winter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightness
+of them seasons a hangin' over it.
+
+“Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier and
+more blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a little
+coffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by
+me under the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for the
+future.
+
+“That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart,
+like a beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do
+you s'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to
+me as that duz? Do you s'pose I will ever have it repaired upon? never!
+I _won't_ repair him. I won't have him dickered and fooled with. Not at
+all.
+
+“He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth
+if he hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long
+as Josiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and
+keep it down here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as
+he is too.
+
+“And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!” says I,
+kinder comin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen,
+and gossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations.
+And as I lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on
+one foot, with his watch, a big silver one, in his hand, and gazin'
+pensively onto it; and he says,--
+
+“Your remarks are worthy, mom--but somewhat lengthy,” says he, in a
+voice of pain; “nearly nine moments long: but,” says he, sort o' bracin'
+up agin on both feet, “I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come
+into this neighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated
+that I got the idee, from what they said, that your feller didn't work
+good.”
+
+“Didn't work good! You impudent creeter you! What of it? What if
+he don't work at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the
+neighbors? I guess he is able to lay by for a few days if he wants to.”
+
+“You are laborin' under a mistake, mom.”
+
+“No, I hain't laborin' under no mistake! And don't you tell me agin that
+I be. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest;
+and whose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get
+to goin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low
+as to watch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute
+they set down; when I can't find nothin' nobler to do,--I'll spend my
+time talkin' about hens' teeth, and lettis seed.”
+
+Says he, lookin' as amiable and patient as a factory-cloth rag-babe, but
+as determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic,--
+
+“You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I
+could fix over your feller if you wanted me to”--
+
+Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on this
+seethin' tumult of anger fell this one calmin' word,--_Meeting-house!_ I
+felt I must be calm,--calm and impressive; so says I,--
+
+“You need not repeat your infamous proposal. I say to you agin, that the
+form where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may be
+more beautiful, and even taller, but they don't have the same look to
+'em. It is one of the strangest things,” says I, fallin' agin' a little
+ways down into a revery,--
+
+“It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion large
+and boundless enough to fill eternity and old space itself, should all
+be gathered up and centered into so small a temple, and such a lookin'
+one, too, sometimes,” says I pensively, as I thought it over, how sort
+o' meachin' and bashful lookin' Josiah Allen wuz, when I married to him.
+And how small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it
+can be, but so it is.
+
+“_Why_ Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lot
+entertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell
+you plain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should
+ask me where Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go,
+it stays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free
+gifts from above, free as the sun, or the showers--that fall down in
+a drouth--and perfectly unbeknown, like them. Such a love is
+oncalculatin', givin' all, unquestionin', unfearin', no dickering no
+holdin' back lookin' for better chances.”
+
+“Yes, mom,” says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one foot
+some like a patient old gander in the fall of the year.
+
+“Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your
+very sociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is
+really consistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I
+first come in, I merely called to see if I could sell you”--
+
+“Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heard
+from mortal lips, be he male, or be he female. The idee of _me_, Josiah
+Allen's wife, who has locked arms with principle, and has kep' stiddy
+company with it, for years and years--the idee of _me_ buyin' a feller!
+I dare persume to say”--
+
+Says I more mildly, as he took up his hat and little box he had, and
+started for the door,--and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so soon,
+I felt softer towards him, as folks will towards burdens when they are
+bein' lifted from 'em,--
+
+“I dare persume to say, you thought I was a single woman, havin'
+been told time and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair
+complected. I won't think,” says I, feelin' still softer towards him as
+I see him a openin' the door,--
+
+“I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made your
+infamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' human
+bein', married or single.”
+
+He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable
+of a meek voice,--
+
+“I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest
+firm in North America.”
+
+“What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if
+he belongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle--that is what I
+am a workin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin'
+a feller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that
+had the riches of Creshus; it wouldn't make a mite of difference to me.
+
+“As the poet Mr. Burns says,--I have heard Thomas J. repeat it time and
+agin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right, but
+the meanin' is,--
+
+“Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller
+is a feller for all that.”
+
+But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind and
+eloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing--if he didn't turn round
+at the foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient, determined
+attitude of hisen, say, says he,--
+
+[Illustration: “CAN'T I SELL YOU A FELLER?”]
+
+“You are mistaken, mom. I merely stopped this mornin' to see if I could
+sell you”--
+
+But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the
+west chamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't
+know how long he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come
+down to get dinner, and that was all I cared for.
+
+I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you,
+my eyes fairly snapped, I was that mad and rousted up about it: but he
+said,--
+
+“He believed it was a sewin'-machine man, and wanted to sell me a feller
+for my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent in
+Jonesville that was a sendin' out agents with all sorts of attachments,
+some with hemmers, and some with fellers.”
+
+But I didn't believe a word of it: I believe he was _mean_. A mean,
+low-lived, insultin' creeter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely died in June; and how the days will pass by, whether we are
+joyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September
+had stepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and
+curchied to us (allegory).
+
+Ah, yes! time passes by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the days
+pass slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter.
+
+But the time, though goin' fast, had passed by very quietly and
+peacefully to Josiah Allen and me.
+
+Every thing on the farm wus prosperous. The children was well and happy;
+the babe beautiful, and growin' more lovely every day.
+
+Ury had took his money, and bought a good little house and 4 acres of
+land in our neighborhood, and had took our farm for the next and ensuin'
+year. And they was happy and contented. And had expectations. They had
+(under my direction) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely
+pilgrimage had seemed to pass from Philury's mind.
+
+The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better and
+better, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over
+50 questions on one subject, or from 50 to 60; and so we got along
+first-rate.
+
+And we loved him. Why, there hain't no tellin' how we did love him. And
+he would talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that he
+would see her bime by, and that she loved him now jest as much as ever,
+and that she _wanted him_ to be a _good boy_.
+
+And he wuz a beautiful boy, if his chin wuz sort o' weak. He would try
+to tell the truth, and do as I would tell him to--and would, a good
+deal of the time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and
+repeat lots of Scripture passages, and would ask more'n 100 questions
+about 'em, if I would let him.
+
+There was one verse I made him repeat every night after he said his
+prayers: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
+
+And I always would say to him, earnest and deep, that his ma was pure in
+heart.
+
+And he'd say, “Does she see God now?”
+
+And I'd say, “Yes.”
+
+And he would say, “When shall I see Him?”
+
+And I'd say, “When you are good enough.”
+
+And he'd say, “If I was good enough, could I see Him now?”
+
+And I would say, “Yes.”
+
+And then he would tell me that he would try to be good; and I would say,
+“Wall, so do.”
+
+And late one afternoon, a bright, sunny afternoon, he got tired of
+playin'. He had been a horse, and little Let Peedick had been a drivin'
+him. I had heard 'em a whinnerin' out in the yard, and a prancin', and a
+hitchin' each other to the post.
+
+But he had got tired about sundown, and come in, and leaned up against
+my lap, and asked me about 88 questions about his ma and the City.
+He had never forgot what his uncle Josiah had read about it, and he
+couldn't seem to talk enough about it.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY AND LET PEEDICK PLAYING HORSE.]
+
+And says he, with a dreamy look way off into the glowin' western sky,
+“My mamma Cicely said it would swing right down out of heaven some day,
+and would open, and I could walk in; and don't you believe mamma will
+stand just inside of the gate as she used to, and say, 'Here comes my
+own little boy'?”
+
+And he wus jest a askin' me this,--and it beats all, how many times he
+had tackled me on this very subject,--when Whitfield drove up in a great
+hurry. Little Samantha Joe had been taken sick, very sick, and extremely
+sudden.
+
+Scarlet-fever was round, and she and the boy had both been exposed. I
+was all excitement and agitation; and I hurried off without changin' my
+dress, or any thing. But I told Josiah to put the boy to bed about nine.
+
+Wall, there was a uncommon sunset that night. The west was all
+aflame with light. And as we rode on towards Jonesville right towards
+it,--though very anxious about the babe,--I drawed Whitfield's attention
+to it.
+
+The hull of the west did look, for all the world, like a great, shinin'
+white gate, open, and inside all full of radience, rose, and yellow, and
+gold light, a streamin' out, and changin', and glowin', movin' about, as
+clouds will.
+
+It seemed sometimes, as if you could almost see a white, shadowy figure,
+inside the gate, a lookin' out, and watchin' with her arms reached out;
+and then it would all melt into the light again, as clouds will.
+
+It wus the beautifulest sunset I had seen, that year, by far. And we
+s'pose, from what we could learn afterwards, that the boy, too, was
+attracted by that wonderful glory in the west, and strolled out to the
+orchard to look at it. It wus a favorite place with him, anyway. And
+there wus a certain tree that he loved to lay under. A sick-no-further
+apple. It wus the very tree I found him under that day in the spring,
+a lookin' up into the sky, a watchin' for the City to come down from
+heaven. You could see a good ways from there off into the west, and out
+over the lake. And the sunset must have looked beautiful from there,
+anyway.
+
+Wall, my poor companion Josiah wus all rousted up in his mind about the
+babe, and he never thought of the boy till it was half-past nine; and
+then he hurried off to find him, skairt, but s'posen he was up on
+his bed with his clothes on, or asleep on the lounges, or carpets, or
+somewhere.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL LOOKING AT THE SUNSET.]
+
+But he couldn't find him: he hunted all over the house, and out in the
+barn, and the door-yard, and the street; and then he rousted up Mr.
+Gowdey's folks, our nearest neighbors, to see if they could help find
+him.
+
+Wall, Miss Gowdey, when she wus a bringin' in her clothes,--it
+was Monday night,--she had seen him out in the orchard under the
+sick-no-further tree.
+
+And there they found him, fast asleep--where they s'pose he had fell
+asleep unexpected to himself.
+
+It wus then almost eleven o'clock, and he was wet with dew: the dew
+was heavy that night. And when they rousted him up, he was so hoarse he
+couldn't speak. And before mornin' he was in a high fever. They sent for
+me and the doctor at daybreak. Little Samantha Joe wus better: it only
+proved to be a hard cold that ailed her.
+
+But the boy had the scarlet-fever, so the doctor said. And he grew worse
+fast. He didn't know me at all when I got home, but wus a talkin' fast
+about his mamma Cicely; and he asked me “If the gate had swung down, for
+him to go through into the City, and if his mamma was inside, reachin'
+out her arms to him?”
+
+And then he would get things all mixed up, and talk about things he had
+heard of, and things he hadn't heard of. And then he would talk about
+how bright it was inside the gate, and how he see it from the orchard.
+And so we knew he had been attracted out by the bright light in the
+west.
+
+And then he would talk about the strangest things. His little tongue
+couldn't be still a minute; but it never could, for that matter.
+
+Till along about the middle of the afternoon he become quiet, and
+grew so white and still that I knew before the doctor told me, that we
+couldn't keep the boy.
+
+And I thought, and couldn't help it, of what Cicely had worried so
+about; and though my heart sunk down and down, to think of givin' the
+boy up,--for I loved him,--yet I couldn't help thinkin' that with his
+temperament, and as the laws was now, the grave was about the only place
+of safety that the Lord Himself could find for the boy.
+
+And it wus about sundown that he died. I had been down-stairs for
+somethin' for him; and as I went back into the room, I see his eyes was
+wide open, and looked natural.
+
+[Illustration: “SAY!”]
+
+And as I bent over him, he looked up at me, and said in a faint voice,
+but rational,--
+
+“Say”--
+
+And I couldn't help a smilin' right there, with the tears a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water. He wanted to ask some question.
+
+But he couldn't say no more. His little, eager, questionin' soul was
+too fur gone towards that land where the hard questions we can't answer
+here, will be made plain to us.
+
+But he looked up into my face with that sort of a questionin' look, and
+then up over my head, and beyend it--and beyend--and I see there settled
+down over his face the sort of a satisfied look that he would have when
+I had answered his questions; and I sort o' smiled, and said to myself,
+I guessed the Lord had answered it.
+
+And so he went through the gate of the City, and was safe. And that is
+the way God took care of the boy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sweet Cicely, by
+Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWEET CICELY ***
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Sweet Cicely, by 'Josiah Allen's Wife': Marietta Holley
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    .side      { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Sweet Cicely, by Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Sweet Cicely
+       Or Josiah Allen as a Politician
+
+Author: Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+
+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7251]
+This file was first posted on March 31, 2003
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWEET CICELY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Richard Prairie, Tiffany Vergon, Charles
+Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div style="height: 8em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>
+SWEET CICELY
+</h1>
+<h3>
+OR JOSIAH ALLEN AS A POLITICIAN
+</h3>
+<h2>
+By &ldquo;Josiah Allen's Wife&rdquo;: Marietta Holley
+</h2>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<h4>
+<i>With Illustrations</i>
+</h4>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<h5>
+Eighth Edition
+</h5>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/009.jpg" alt="Cicely" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<h3>
+TO
+</h3>
+<h3>
+THE SAD-EYED MOTHERS,
+</h3>
+<h3>
+WHO, LIKE CICELY,
+</h3>
+<h3>
+ARE LOOKING ACROSS THE CRADLE OF THEIR
+</h3>
+<h3>
+BOYS INTO THE GREAT WORLD OF
+</h3>
+<h3>
+TEMPTATION AND DANGER,
+</h3>
+<h3>
+THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED.
+</h3>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+PREFACE.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Josiah and me got to talkin' it over. He said it wuzn't right to think
+more of one child than you did of another.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;That is so, Josiah.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;Then, why did you say yesterday, that you loved sweet Cicely
+better than any of the rest of your thought-children? You said you loved
+'em all, and was kinder sorry for the hull on 'em, but you loved her the
+best: what made you say it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I said it, to tell the truth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, what did you do it <i>for</i>?&rdquo; he kep' on, determined to get a
+reason.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did it,&rdquo; says I, a comin' out still plainer,&mdash;&ldquo;I did it to keep
+from lyin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, when you say it hain't right to feel so, what makes you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know, Josiah,&rdquo; says I, lookin' at him, and beyend him, way into
+the depths of emotions and feelin's we can't understand nor help,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know why, but I know I do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he drawed on his boots, and went out to the barn.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<p>
+<b>CONTENTS</b>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<p>
+<b>List of Illustrations</b>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0001"> Sweet Cicely. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0002"> Josiah Telling the News to Samantha. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0003"> Cicely. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0004"> Paul Slide. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0005"> Samantha and the &ldquo;blamers.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0006"> Cicely in the Saloon. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0007"> Paul Shooting his Friend. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0008"> Cicely and the Boy. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0009"> Uncle Sam Enriching the Government. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0010"> The Spare Room. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0011"> Going to Meeting. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0012"> Josiah Closing the Conversation. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0013"> &ldquo;it Wus on a Slay-ride &ldquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0014"> Excellent Lime. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0015"> Elburtus Endearin' Himself to Mr. Bobbet. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0016"> Elbertus Appearin' </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0017"> Elburtus Holding the Horses. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0018"> Hunting for Elburtus. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0019"> The Baby. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0020"> A Great Effort. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0021"> Samantha's Hens. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0022"> Cicely and Her Peers. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0023"> &ldquo;a Charge to Keep I Have.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0024"> Josiah's Wood-lot. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0025"> God's Comma. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0026"> Josiah Reading the Letter. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0027"> Copy of the Letter: Free Pass. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0028"> Looking Dubersome. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0029"> Josiah and his Relations on the Pass. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0030"> Josiah Being Approached. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0031"> Josiah Being Blown Away. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0032"> Josiah's Star Route. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0033"> Uncivil Service. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0034"> The Golden Calves of Christians. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0035"> Josiah Driving Tantrum. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0036"> A Woman's Place. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0037"> Our Law-makers. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0038"> Jonesville Courthouse. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0039"> Making Them Do Right. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0040"> The Mother's Bed-quilt. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0041"> Man Lifting up Eunice. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0042"> Eunice in Jail. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0043"> Dorlesky's Trials. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0044"> Patty and Husband Travelling in the Far West.
+</a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0045"> Beating his Wife. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0046"> Looking Beyend the Sunset. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0047"> Looking for the City. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0048"> Asking About the City. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0049"> Philury. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0050"> Samantha Advising the Bride. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0051"> Samantha and Paul on the Way to The White
+House. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0052"> Samantha Meeting the President. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0053"> &ldquo;Would You Dast?&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0056"> Samantha Meeting James G. Blaine. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0057"> Mr. Blaine Introducing the Senator. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0058"> &ldquo;Fly Around, Ye Angels.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0059"> Woman's Rights and Somebody Blundered. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0061"> The Weary Toilers of Life. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0062"> Bearing the Baby Peace. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0063"> A Case of Necessity. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0064"> Samantha Viewing the Capitol. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0065"> Samantha Refusing to Be Treated. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0066"> Buying Time. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0067"> How Woman's Prayers Are Answered. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0068"> Samantha and Sally in the Patent Office. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0069"> Samantha at the President's Reception. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0070"> Going to Mount Vernon. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0071"> Before the Tomb of Washington. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0072"> The Old Home of Washington. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0073"> Thomas Jefferson S Ghost. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0074"> Heavenly Visitors. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0075"> &ldquo;say!&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0076"> Samantha's Sorrow. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0077"> Our 4 Parents. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0078"> Borrowing Coals. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0079"> The Old Schoolhouse </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0080"> A May Morning. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0081"> At the Depot. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0082"> Are You a Lion? </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0083"> Josiah Being Treated. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0084"> Letitia Lanfear. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0085"> Ury. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0086"> The Wedding Supper. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0087"> &ldquo;yes, if You Please.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0088"> Led Astray. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0089"> The Boy's Explanation. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0090"> She That Wus Kezier Lum. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0091"> Condelick Post. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0092"> Licensed Wretchedness. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0093"> Samantha Listening to Cicely. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0094"> Thomas Jefferson Bringing Cicely's Telegram.
+</a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0095"> &ldquo;most Probable She Dremp It.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0096"> The Boy Asking Questions. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0097"> Tirzah Ann and Maggie in the Democrat. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0098"> Death of Cicely. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0099"> Agent Trying to Sell Samantha a Feller. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0100"> Them That Sell Doves. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0101"> Josiah After Being Repaired. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0102"> &ldquo;goin' to the Revival Meeting.&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0103"> &ldquo;can't I Sell You a Feller?&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0104"> The Boy and Let Peedick Playing Horse. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0105"> Paul Looking at the Sunset. </a>
+</p>
+<p class="toc">
+<a href="#linkimage-0106"> &ldquo;say!&rdquo; </a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h1>
+SWEET CICELY
+</h1>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER I.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was somewhere about the middle of winter, along in the forenoon, that
+Josiah Allen was telegrafted to, unexpected. His niece Cicely and her
+little boy was goin' to pass through Jonesville the next day on her way to
+visit her aunt Mary (aunt on her mother's side), and she would stop off,
+and make us a short visit if convenient.
+</p>
+<p>
+We wuz both tickled, highly tickled; and Josiah, before he had read the
+telegraf ten minutes, was out killin' a hen. The plumpest one in the flock
+was the order I give; and I wus a beginnin' to make a fuss, and cook up
+for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+We loved her jest about as well as we did Tirzah Ann. Sweet Cicely was
+what we used to call her when she was a girl. Sweet Cicely is a plant that
+has a pretty white posy. And our niece Cicely was prettier and purer and
+sweeter than any posy that ever grew: so we thought then, and so we think
+still.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/019.jpg" alt="Josiah Telling the News to Samantha" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Her mother was my companion's sister,&mdash;one of a pair of twins, Mary
+and Maria, that thought the world of each other, as twins will. Their
+mother died when they wus both of 'em babies; and they wus adopted by a
+rich aunt, who brought 'em up elegant, and likely too: that I will say for
+her, if she wus a 'Piscopal, and I a Methodist. I am both liberal and
+truthful&mdash;very.
+</p>
+<p>
+Maria wus Cicely's ma, and she wus left a widow when she wus a young
+woman; and Cicely wus her only child. And the two wus bound up in each
+other as I never see a mother and daughter in my life before or sense.
+</p>
+<p>
+The third year after Josiah and me wus married, Maria wusn't well, and the
+doctor ordered her out into the country for her health; and she and little
+Cicely spent the hull of that summer with us. Cicely wus about ten; and
+how we did love that girl! Her mother couldn't bear to have her out of her
+sight; and I declare, we all of us wus jest about as bad. And from that
+time they used to spend most all of their summers in Jonesville. The air
+agreed with 'em, and so did I: we never had a word of trouble. And we used
+to visit them quite a good deal in the winter season: they lived in the
+city.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, as Cicely got to be a young girl, I used often to set and look at
+her, and wonder if the Lord could have made a prettier, sweeter girl if he
+had tried to. She looked to me jest perfect, and so she did to Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she knew so much, too, and wus so womanly and quiet and deep. I s'pose
+it wus bein' always with her mother that made her seem older and more
+thoughtful than girls usially are. It seemed as if her great dark eyes wus
+full of wisdom beyend&mdash;fur beyend&mdash;her years, and sweetness too.
+Never wus there any sweeter eyes under the heavens than those of our niece
+Cicely.
+</p>
+<p>
+She wus very fair and pale, you would think at first; but, when you would
+come to look closer, you would see there was nothing sickly in her
+complexion, only it was very white and smooth,&mdash;a good deal like the
+pure white leaves of the posy Sweet Cicely. She had a gentle, tender
+mouth, rose-pink; and her cheeks wuz, when she would get rousted up and
+excited about any thing; and then it would all sort o' die out again into
+that pure white. And over all her face, as sweet and womanly as it was,
+there was a look of power, somehow, a look of strength, as if she would
+venture much, dare much, for them she loved. She had the gift, not always
+a happy one, of loving,&mdash;a strength of devotion that always has for
+its companion-trait a gift of endurance, of martyrdom if necessary.
+</p>
+<p>
+She would give all, dare all, endure all, for them she loved. You could
+see that in her face before you had been with her long enough to see it in
+her life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her hair wus a soft, pretty brown, about the color of her eyes. And she
+wus a little body, slender, and sort o' plump too; and her arms and hands
+and neck wus soft and white as snow almost.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yes, we loved Cicely: and no one could blame us, or wonder at us for
+callin' her after the posy Sweet Cicely; for she wus prettier than any
+posy that ever blew, enough sight.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she had always said she couldn't live if her mother died.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she did, poor little creeter! she did.
+</p>
+<p>
+Maria died when Cicely wus about eighteen. She had always been delicate,
+and couldn't live no longer: so she died. And Josiah and me went right
+after the poor child, and brought her home with us.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/022.jpg" alt="Cicely" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+She lived, Cicely did, because she wus young, and couldn't die. And Josiah
+and me wus dretful good to her; and many's the nights that I have gone
+into her room when I'd hear her cryin' way along in the night; many's the
+times I have gone in, and took her in my arms, and held her there, and
+cried with her, and soothed her, and got her to sleep, and held her in my
+arms like a baby till mornin'. Wall, she lived with us most a year that
+time; and it wus about two years after, while she wus to some of her
+father's folks'es (they wus very rich), that she met the young man she
+married,&mdash;Paul Slide.
+</p>
+<p>
+He wus a handsome young man, well-behaved, only he would drink a little
+once in a while: he'd got into the habit at college, where his mate wus
+wild, and had his turns. But he wus very pretty in his manners, Paul was,&mdash;polite,
+good-natured, generous-dispositioned,&mdash;and very rich.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as to his looks, there wuzn't no earthly fault to find with him, only
+jest his chin. And I told Josiah, that how Cicely could marry a man with
+such a chin wus a mystery to me.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Josiah said, &ldquo;What is the matter with his chin?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Why, it jest sets right back from his mouth: he hain't got no
+chin at all hardly,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;The place where his chin ort to be is
+nothin' but a holler place all filled up with irresolution and weakness.
+And I believe Cicely will see trouble with that chin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then&mdash;I well remember it, for it was the very first time after
+marriage, and so, of course, the very first time in our two lives&mdash;Josiah
+called me a fool, a &ldquo;dumb fool,&rdquo; or jest the same as called me so. He
+says, &ldquo;I wouldn't be a dumb fool if I was in your place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I felt worked up. But, like warriors on a battle-field, I grew stronger
+for the fray; and the fray didn't scare me none.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/024.jpg" alt="Paul Slide" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But I says, &ldquo;You'll see if you live, Josiah Allen&rdquo;; and he did.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, as I said, I didn't see how Cicely ever fell in love with a man with
+such a chin. But, as I learned afterwards, she fell in love with him under
+a fur collar. It wus on a slay-ride. And he wuz very handsome from his
+mouth up, very: his mouth wuz ruther weak. It wus a case of love at first
+sight, which I believe in considerable; and she couldn't help lovin' him,
+women are so queer.
+</p>
+<p>
+I had always said that when Cicely did love, it would go hard with her.
+Many's the offers she'd had, but didn't care for 'em. But I knew, with her
+temperament and nater, that love, if it did come to her, would come to
+stay, and it would come hard and voyalent. And so it did.
+</p>
+<p>
+She worshipped him, as I said at first, under a fur collar. And then, when
+a woman once gets to lovin' a man as she did, why, she can't help herself,
+chin or no chin. When a woman has once throwed herself in front of her
+idol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of gold, or
+holler: it hain't so much matter <i>what</i> they be, I think. Curius,
+hain't it?
+</p>
+<p>
+It hain't the easiest thing in the world for such a woman as Cicely to
+love, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she found
+out afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his head
+with liquor; and it wus my advice to her, to give him up.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she tried to unlove him, tried to give him up.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, good land! she might jest as well have took a piece of her own heart
+out, as to take out of it her love for him: it had become a part of her.
+And he told her she could save him, her influence could redeem him, and it
+wus the only thing that could save him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Cicely couldn't stand such talk, of course; and she believed him&mdash;believed
+that she could love him so well, throw her influence so around him, as to
+hold him back from any evil course.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of folly
+a woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of the idee,
+to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in its utter
+uselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done&mdash;not in 98 cases
+out of a 100 at least.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to win
+her affection,&mdash;when he is on probation, as you may say,&mdash;to
+stop and turn round in his downward course, how can she expect he will
+after he has got her, and has let down his watch, so to speak?
+</p>
+<p>
+But she loved him. And when I warned her with tears in my eyes, warned her
+that mebby it wus more than her own safety and happiness that wus
+imperilled, I could see by the look in her eyes, though she didn't say
+much, that it wusn't no use for me to talk; for she wus one of the
+constant natures that can't wobble round. And though I don't like
+wobblin', still I do honestly believe that the wobblers are happier than
+them that can't wobble.
+</p>
+<p>
+I could see jest how it wuz, and I couldn't bear to have her blamed. And I
+would tell folks,&mdash;some of the relations on her mother's side,&mdash;when
+they would say, &ldquo;What a fool she wus to have him!&rdquo;&mdash;I'd say to 'em,
+&ldquo;Wall, when a woman sees the man she loves goin' down to ruination, and
+tries to unlove him, she'll find out jest how much harder it is to unlove
+him than to love him in the first place: they'll find out it is a tough
+job to tackle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/027.jpg" alt="Samantha and the 'blamers'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I said this to blamers of Cicely (relatives, the best blamers you can find
+anywhere). But, at the same time, it would have been my way, when he had
+come a courtin' me so far gone with liquor that he could hardly stand up&mdash;why,
+I should have told him plain, that I wouldn't try to set myself up as a
+rival to alcohol, and he might pay to that his attentions exclusively
+hereafter.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she didn't. And he promised sacred to abstain, and could, and did, for
+most a year; and she married him.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, jest before the marriage, I got so rousted up a thinkin' about what I
+had heard of him at college,&mdash;and I studied on his picture, which she
+had sent me, took sideways too, and I could see plain (why, he hadn't no
+chin at all, as you may say; and his lips was weak and waverin' as ever
+lips was, though sort o' amiable and fascinating),&mdash;and I got to
+forebodin' so about that chin, and my love for her wus a hunchin' me up so
+all the time, that I went to see her on a short tower, to beset her on the
+subject. But, good land! I might have saved my breath, I might have saved
+my tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+I cried, and she cried too. And I says to her before I thought,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'll be the ruin of you, Cicely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she says, &ldquo;I would rather be beaten by his hand, than to be crowned by
+another. Why, I love him, aunt Samantha.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+You see, that meant a awful sight to her. And as she looked at me so
+earnest and solemn, with tears in them pretty brown eyes, there wus in her
+look all that that word could possibly mean to any soul.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I cried into my white linen handkerchief, and couldn't help it, and
+couldn't help sayin', as I see that look,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cicely, I am afraid he will break your heart&mdash;kill you&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, I am not afraid to die when I am with him. I am afraid of nothing&mdash;of
+life, or death, or eternity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Well, I see my talk was no use. I see she'd have him, chin or no chin. If
+I could have taken her up in my arms, and run away with her then and
+there, how much misery I could have saved her from! But I couldn't: I had
+the rheumatiz. And I had to give up, and go home disappointed, but
+carryin' this thought home with me on my tower,&mdash;that I had done my
+duty by our sweet Cicely, and could do no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+As I said, he promised firm to give up drinking. But, good land! what
+could you expect from that chin? That chin couldn't stand temptation if it
+came in his way. At the same time, his love for Cicely was such, and his
+good heart and his natural gentlemanly intuitions was such, that, if he
+could have been kep' out of the way of temptation, he would have been all
+right.
+</p>
+<p>
+If there hadn't been drinking-saloons right in front of that chin, if it
+could have walked along the road without runnin' right into 'em, it would
+have got along. That chin, and them waverin'-lookin', amiable lips,
+wouldn't have stirred a step out of their ways to get ruined and
+disgraced: they wouldn't have took the trouble to.
+</p>
+<p>
+And for a year or so he and the chin kep' out of the way of temptation, or
+ruther temptation kep' out of their way; and Cicely was happy,&mdash;radiently
+happy, as only such a nature as hern can be. Her face looked like a
+mornin' in June, it wus so bright, and glowing with joy and happy love.
+</p>
+<p>
+I visited her, stayed 3 days and 2 nights with her; and I almost forgot to
+forebode about the lower part of his face, I found 'em so happy and
+prosperous and likely.
+</p>
+<p>
+Paul wus very rich. He wus the only child: and his pa left 2 thirds of his
+property to him, and the other third to his ma, which wus more than she
+could ever use while she wus alive; and at her death it wus to go to Paul
+and his heirs.
+</p>
+<p>
+They owned most all of the village they lived in. His pa had owned the
+township the village was built on, and had built most all the village
+himself, and rented the buildings. He owned a big manufactory there, and
+the buildings rented high.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, it wus in the second year of their marriage that that old college
+chumb&mdash;(and I wish he had been chumbed by a pole, before he had ever
+gone there). He had lost his property, and come down in the world, and had
+to work for a livin'; moved into that village, and opened a
+drinking-saloon and billiard-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had been Paul's most intimate friend at college, and his evil genius,
+so his mother said. But he was bright, witty, generous in a way,
+unprincipled, dissipated. And he wanted Paul's company, and he wanted
+Paul's money; and he had a chin himself, and knew how to manage them that
+hadn't any.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, Cicely and his mother tried to keep Paul from that bad influence.
+But he said it would look shabby to not take any notice of a man because
+he wus down in the world. He wouldn't have much to do with him, but it
+wouldn't do to not notice him at all. How curius, that out of good comes
+bad, and out of bad, good. That was a good-natured idee of Paul's if he
+had had a chin that could have held up his principle; but he didn't.
+</p>
+<p>
+So he gradually fell under the old influence again. He didn't mean to. He
+hadn't no idee of doin' so when he begun. It was the chin.
+</p>
+<p>
+He begun to drink hard, spent his nights in the saloon, gambled,&mdash;slipped
+right down the old, smooth track worn by millions of jest such weak feet,
+towards ruin. And Cicely couldn't hold him back after he had got to
+slippin': her arms wuzn't strong enough.
+</p>
+<p>
+She went to the saloon-keeper, and cried, and begged of him not to sell
+her husband any more liquor. He was very polite to her, very courteous:
+everybody was to Cicely. But in a polite way he told her that Paul wus his
+best customer, and he shouldn't offend him by refusing to sell him liquor.
+She knelt at his feet, I hearn,&mdash;her little, tender limbs on that
+rough floor before that evil man,&mdash;and wept, and said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For the sake of her boy, wouldn't he have mercy on the boy's father.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But in a gentle way he gave her to understand that he shouldn't make no
+change.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he told her, speakin' in a dretful courteous way, &ldquo;that he had the law
+on his side: he had a license, and he should keep right on as he was
+doing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/032.jpg" alt="Cicely in the Saloon" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And so what could Cicely do? And time went on, carryin' Paul further and
+further down the road that has but one ending. Lower and lower he sunk,
+carryin' her heart, her happiness, her life, down with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And they said one cold night Paul didn't come home at all, and Cicely and
+his mother wus half crazy; and they wus too proud, to the last, to tell
+the servants more than they could help: so, when it got to be most
+mornin', them two delicate women started out through the deep snow, to try
+to find him, tremblin' at every little heap of snow that wus tumbled up in
+the path in front of 'em; tremblin' and sick at heart with the agony and
+dread that wus rackin' their souls, as they would look over the cold
+fields of snow stretching on each side of the road, and thinkin' how that
+face would look if it wus lying there staring with lifeless eyes up
+towards the cold moonlight,&mdash;the face they had kissed, the face they
+had loved,&mdash;and thinkin', too, that the change that had come to it&mdash;was
+comin' to it all the time&mdash;was more cruel and hopeless than the
+change of death.
+</p>
+<p>
+So they went on, clear to the saloon; and there they found him,&mdash;there
+he lay, perfectly stupid, and dead with liquor.
+</p>
+<p>
+And they both, the broken-hearted mother and the broken-hearted wife, with
+the tears running down their white cheeks, besought the saloon-keeper to
+let him alone from that night.
+</p>
+<p>
+The mother says, &ldquo;Paul is so good, that if you did not tempt him, entice
+him here, he would, out of pity to us, stop his evil ways.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And the saloon-keeper was jest as polite as any man wus ever seen to be,&mdash;took
+his hat off while he told 'em, so I hearn, &ldquo;that he couldn't go against
+his own interests: if Paul chose to spend his money there, he should take
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you break our hearts?&rdquo; cried the mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you ruin my husband, the father of my boy?&rdquo; sobbed out Cicely, her
+big, sorrowful eyes lookin' right through his soul&mdash;if he <i>had</i>
+a soul.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then the man, in a pleasant tone, reminded 'em,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That it wuzn't him that wus a doin' this. It wus the law: if they wanted
+things changed, they must look further than him. He had a license. The
+great Government of the United States had sold him, for a few dollars, the
+right to do just what he was doing. The law, and all the respectability
+that the laws of our great and glorious Republic can give, bore him out in
+all his acts. The law was responsible for all the consequenses of his
+acts: the men were responsible who voted for license&mdash;it was not
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you <i>can</i> do what we ask if you will, out of pity to Paul, pity
+to us who love him so, and who are forced to stand by powerless, and see
+him going to ruin&mdash;we who would die for him willingly if it would do
+any good. You <i>can</i> do this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He was a little bit intoxicated, or he wouldn't have gid 'em the cruel
+sneer he did at the last,&mdash;though he sneeren polite,&mdash;a holdin'
+his hat in his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I said, my dear madam, it is not I, it is the law; and I see no other
+way for you ladies who feel so about it, only to vote, and change the
+laws.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would to God I <i>could!</i>&rdquo; said the old white-haired mother, with her
+solemn eyes lifted to the heavens, in which was her only hope.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would to God I could!&rdquo; repeated my sweet Cicely, with her eyes fastened
+on the face of him who had promised to cherish her, and comfort her, and
+protect her, layin' there at her feet, a mark for jeers and sneers, unable
+to speak a word, or lift his hand, if his wife and mother had been killed
+before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+But they couldn't do any thing. They would have lain their lives down for
+him at any time, but that wouldn't do any good. The lowest, most ignorant
+laborer in their employ had power in this matter, but they had none. They
+had intellectual power enough, which, added to their utter helplessness,
+only made their burden more unendurable; for they comprehended to the full
+the knowledge of what was past, and what must come in the future unless
+help came quickly. They had the strength of devotion, the strength of
+unselfish love.
+</p>
+<p>
+They had the will, but they hadn't nothin' to tackle it onto him with, to
+draw him back. For their prayers, their midnight watches, their tears, did
+not avail, as I said: they went jest so far; they touched him, but they
+lacked the tacklin'-power that was wanted to grip holt of him, and draw
+him back. What they needed was the justice of the law to tackle the
+injustice; and they hadn't got it, and couldn't get holt of it: so they
+had to set with hands folded, or lifted to the heavens in wild appeal,&mdash;either
+way didn't help Paul any,&mdash;and see him a sinkin' and a sinkin',
+slippin' further and further down; and they had to let him go.
+</p>
+<p>
+He drunk harder and harder, neglected his business, got quarrelsome. And
+one night, when the heavens was curtained with blackness, like a pall let
+down to cover the accursed scene, he left Cicely with her pretty baby
+asleep on her bosom, went down to the saloon, got into a quarrel with that
+very friend of hisen, the saloon-keeper, over a game of billiards,&mdash;they
+was both intoxicated,&mdash;and then and there Paul committed <i>murder</i>,
+and would have been hung for it if he hadn't died in State's prison the
+night before he got his sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/036.jpg" alt="Paul Shooting his Friend" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Awful deed! Dreadful fate! But no worse, as I told Josiah when he wus a
+groanin' over it; no worse, I told the children when they was a cryin'
+over it; no worse, I told my own heart when the tears wus a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water,&mdash;no worse because Cicely happened to be our
+relation, and we loved her as we did our own eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+And our broad land is <i>full</i> of jest such sufferin's, jest such
+crimes, jest such disgrace, caused by the same cause;&mdash;as I told
+Josiah, suffering, disgrace, and crime made legal and protected by the
+law.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Josiah squirmed as I said it; and I see him squirm, for he believed in
+it: he believed in licensing this shame and disgrace and woe; he believed
+in makin' it respectable, and wrappin' round it the mantilly of the law,
+to keep it in a warm, healthy, flourishin' condition. Why, he had helped
+do it himself; he had helped the United States lift up the mantilly; he
+had voted for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+He squirmed, but turned it off by usin' his bandana hard, and sayin', in a
+voice all choked down with grief,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, poor Cicely! poor girl!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;'poor girl!' and the law you uphold has made her; 'poor
+girl'&mdash;has killed her; for she won't live through it, and you and the
+United States will see that she won't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He squirmed hard; and my feelin's for him are such that I can't bear to
+see him squirm voyalently, as much as I blamed him and the United States,
+and as mad as I was at both on 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+So I went to cryin' agin silently under my linen handkerchief, and he
+cried into his bandana. It wus a awful blow to both on us.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she lived, Cicely did, which was more than we any one of us thought
+she could do. I went right there, and stayed six weeks with her, hangin'
+right over her bed, night and day; and so did his mother,&mdash;she a
+brokenhearted woman too. Her heart broke, too, by the United States; and
+so I told Josiah, that little villain that got killed was only one of his
+agents. Yes, her heart was broke; but she bore up for Cicely's sake and
+the boy's. For it seemed as if she felt remorsful, and as if it was for
+them that belonged to him who had ruined her life, to help her all they
+could.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, after about three weeks Cicely begun to live. And so I wrote to
+Josiah that I guessed she would keep on a livin' now, for the sake of the
+boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so she did. And she got up from that bed a shadow,&mdash;a faint, pale
+shadow of the girl that used to brighten up our home for us. She was our
+sweet Cicely still. But she looked like that posy after the frost has
+withered it, and with the cold moonlight layin' on it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Good and patient she wuz, and easy to get along with; for she seemed to
+hold earthly things with a dretful loose grip, easy to leggo of 'em. And
+it didn't seem as if she had any interest at all in life, or care for any
+thing that was a goin' on in the world, till the boy wus about four years
+old; and then she begun to get all rousted up about him and his future.
+&ldquo;She <i>must</i> live,&rdquo; she said: &ldquo;she had got to live, to do something to
+help him in the future.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/039.jpg" alt="Cicely and the Boy" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She couldn't die,&rdquo; she told me, &ldquo;and leave him in a world that was so
+hard for boys, where temptations and danger stood all round her boy's
+pathway. Not only hidden perils, concealed from sight, so he might
+possibly escape them, but open temptations, open dangers, made as alluring
+as private avarice could make them, and made as respectable as dignified
+legal enactments could make them,&mdash;all to draw her boy down the
+pathway his poor father descended.&rdquo; For one of the curius things about
+Cicely wuz, she didn't seem to blame Paul hardly a mite, nor not so very
+much the one that enticed him to drink. She went back further than them:
+she laid the blame onto our laws; she laid the responsibility onto the
+ones that made 'em, directly and indirectly, the legislators and the
+voters.
+</p>
+<p>
+Curius that Cicely should feel so, when most everybody said that he could
+have stopped drinking if he had wanted to. But then, I don't know as I
+could blame her for feelin' so when I thought of Paul's chin and lips.
+Why, anybody that had them on 'em, and was made up inside and outside
+accordin', as folks be that have them looks; why, unless they was
+specially guarded by good influences, and fenced off from bad ones,&mdash;why,
+they <i>could not</i> exert any self-denial and control and firmness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, I jest followed that chin and that mouth right back through seven
+generations of the Slide family. Paul's father wus a good man, had a good
+face; took it from his mother: but his father, Paul's grandfather, died a
+drunkard. They have got a oil-portrait of him at Paul's old home: I
+stopped there on my way home from Cicely's one time. And for all the world
+he looked most exactly like Paul,&mdash;the same sort of a irresolute,
+handsome, weak, fascinating look to him. And all through them portraits I
+could trace that chin and them lips. They would disappear in some of 'em,
+but crop out agin further back. And I asked the housekeeper, who had
+always lived in the family, and wus proud of it, but honest; and she knew
+the story of the hull Slide race.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she said that every one of 'em that had that face had traits
+accordin'; and most every one of 'em got into trouble of some kind.
+</p>
+<p>
+One or two of 'em, specially guarded, I s'pose, by good influences, got
+along with no further trouble than the loss of the chin, and the feelin'
+they must have had inside of 'em, that they wuz liable to crumple right
+down any minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as they wus made with jest them looks, and jest them traits, born so,
+entirely unbeknown to them, I don't know as I can blame Cicely for feelin'
+as she did. If temptation hadn't stood right in the road in front of him,
+why, he'd have got along, and lived happy. That's Cicely's idee. And I
+don't know but she's in the right ont.
+</p>
+<p>
+But as I said, when her child wus about four years old, Cicely took a
+turn, and begun to get all worked up and excited by turns a worryin' about
+the boy. She'd talk about it a sight to me, and I hearn it from others.
+</p>
+<p>
+She rousted up out of her deathly weakness and heartbroken, stunted calm,&mdash;for
+such it seemed to be for the first two or three years after her husband's
+death. She seemed to make an effort almost like that of a dead man
+throwin' off the icy stupor of death, and risin' up with numbed limbs, and
+shakin' off the death-robes, and livin' agin. She rousted up with jest
+such a effort, so it seemed, for the boy's sake.
+</p>
+<p>
+She must live for the boy; she must work for the boy; she must try to
+throw some safeguards around his future. What <i>could</i> she do to help
+him? That wus the question that was a hantin' her soul.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus jest like death for her to face the curius gaze of the world again;
+for, like a wounded animal, she had wanted to crawl away, and hide her
+cruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the sharp-sot
+eyes of the babblin' world.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she endured it. She came out of her quiet home, where her heart had
+bled in secret; she came out into society again; and she did every thing
+she could, in her gentle, quiet way. She joined temperance societies,&mdash;helped
+push 'em forward with her money and her influence. With other white-souled
+wimmen, gentle and refined as she was, she went into rough bar-rooms, and
+knelt on their floors, and prayed what her sad heart wus full of,&mdash;for
+pity and mercy for her boy, and other mothers' boys,&mdash;prayed with
+that fellowship of suffering that made her sweet voice as pathetic as
+tears, and patheticker, so I have been told.
+</p>
+<p>
+But one thing hurt her influence dretfully, and almost broke her own
+heart. Paul had left a very large property, but it wus all in the hands of
+an executor until the boy wus of age. He wus to give Cicely a liberal, a
+very liberal, sum every year, but wus to manage the property jest as he
+thought best.
+</p>
+<p>
+He wus a good business man, and one that meant to do middlin' near right,
+but wus close for a bargain, and sot, awful sot. And though he wus dretful
+polite, and made a stiddy practice right along of callin' wimmen &ldquo;angels,&rdquo;
+ still he would not brook a woman's interference.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, he could get such big rents for drinkin'-saloons, that four of
+Cicely's buildings wus rented for that purpose; and there wus one
+billiard-room. And what made it worse for Cicely seemin'ly, it wus her own
+property, that she brought to Paul when she wus married, that wus invested
+in these buildings. At that time they wus rented for dry-goods stores, and
+groceries. But the business of the manufactories had increased greatly;
+and there wus three times the population now there wus when she went there
+to live, and more saloons wus needed; and these buildings wus handy; and
+the executer had big prices offered to him, and he would rent 'em as he
+wanted to. And then, he wus something of a statesman; and he felt, as many
+business men did, that they wus fairly sufferin' for more saloons to
+enrich the government.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, out of every hundred dollars that them poor laboring-men had earned
+so hardly, and paid into the saloons for that which, of course, wus
+ruinous to themselves and families, and, of course, rendered them
+incapable of all labor for a great deal of the time,&mdash;why, out of
+that hundred dollars, as many as 2 cents would go to the government to
+enrich it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course, the government had to use them 2 cents right off towards buyin'
+tight-jackets to confine the madmen the whiskey had made, and
+poorhouse-doors for the idiots it had breeded, to lean up aginst, and
+buryin' the paupers, and buyin' ropes to hang the murderers it had
+created.
+</p>
+<p>
+But still, in some strange way, too deep, fur too deep, for a woman's mind
+to comprehend, it wus dretful profitable to the government.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, if them poor laborin'-men had paid that 2 cents of theirn to the
+government themselves, in the first place, in direct taxation, why, that
+wouldn't have been statesmanship. That is a deep study, and has a great
+many curius performances, and it has to perform.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/044.jpg" alt="Uncle Sam Enriching the Government" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Cicely tried her very best to get the executor to change in this one
+matter; but she couldn't move him the width of a horse-hair, and he a
+smilin' all the time at her, and polite. He liked Cicely: nobody could
+help likin' the gentle, saintly-souled little woman. But he wus sot: he
+wus makin' money fast by it, and she had to give up.
+</p>
+<p>
+And rough men and women would sometimes twit her of it,&mdash;of her
+property bein' used to advance the liquor-traffic, and ruin men and
+wimmen; and she a feelin' like death about it, and her hands tied up, and
+powerless. No wonder that her face got whiter and whiter, and her eyes
+bigger and mournfuller-lookin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she kep' on, tryin' to do all she could: she joined the Woman's
+Temperance Union; she spent her money free as water, where she thought it
+would do any good, and brought up the boy jest as near right as she could
+possibly bring him up; and she prayed, and wept right when she wus a
+bringin' of him, a thinkin' that <i>her</i> property wus a bein' used
+every day and every hour in ruinin' other mothers' boys. And the boy's
+face almost breakin' her heart every time she looked at it; for, though he
+wus jest as pretty as a child could be, the pretty rosy lips had the same
+good-tempered, irresolute curve to 'em that the boy inherited honestly.
+And he had the same weak, waverin' chin. It was white and rosy now, with a
+dimple right in the centre, sweet enough to kiss. But the chin wus there,
+right under the rosy snow and the dimple; and I foreboded, too, and
+couldn't blame Cicely a mite for her forebodin', and her agony of sole.
+</p>
+<p>
+I noticed them lips and that chin the very minute Josiah brought him into
+the settin'-room, and set him down; and my eyes looked dubersome at him
+through my specks. Cicely see it, see that dubersome look, though I tried
+to turn it off by kissin' him jest as hearty as I could after I had took
+the little black-robed figure of his mother, and hugged her close to my
+heart, and kissed her time and time agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+She always dressed in the deepest of mournin', and always would. I knew
+that.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, we wus awful glad to see Cicely. I had had the old fireplace fixed
+in the front spare room, and a crib put in there for the boy; and I went
+right up to her room with her. And when we had got there, I took her right
+in my arms agin, as I used to, and told her how glad I wus, and how
+thankful I wus, to have her and the boy with us.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fire sparkled up on the old brass handirons as warm as my welcome. Her
+bed and the boy's bed looked white and cozy aginst the dark red of the
+carpet and the cream-colored paper. And after I had lowered the pretty
+ruffled muslin curtains (with red ones under 'em), and pulled a stand
+forward, and lit a lamp,&mdash;it wus sundown,&mdash;the room looked
+cheerful enough for anybody, and it seemed as if Cicely looked a little
+less white and brokenhearted. She wus glad to be with me, and said she
+wuz. But right there&mdash;before supper; and we could smell the roast
+chicken and coffee, havin' left the stair-door open&mdash;right there,
+before we had visited hardly any, or talked a mite about other wimmen, she
+begun on what she wanted to do, and what she <i>must</i> do, for the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+I had told her how the boy had grown, and that sot her off. And from that
+night, every minute of her time almost, when she could without bein'
+impolite and troublesome (Cicely wus a perfect lady, inside and out), she
+would talk to me about what she wanted to do for the boy, to have the laws
+changed before he grew up; she didn't dare to let him go out into the
+world with the laws as they was now, with temptation on every side of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/047.jpg" alt="The Spare Room" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know, aunt Samantha,&rdquo; she says to me, &ldquo;that I wanted to die when my
+husband died; but I want to live now. Why, I <i>must</i> live; I cannot
+die, I dare not die until my boy is safer. I will work, I will die if
+necessary, for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It wus the same old Cicely, I see, not carin' for herself, but carin' only
+for them she loved. Lovin' little creeter, good little creeter, she always
+wuz, and always would be. And so I told Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, we had the boy set between us to the supper-table, Josiah and me
+did, in Thomas Jefferson's little high-chair. I had new covered it on
+purpose for him with bright copperplate calico.
+</p>
+<p>
+And that night at supper, and after supper, I judged, and judged calmly,&mdash;we
+made the estimate after we went to bed, Josiah and me did,&mdash;that the
+boy asked 3 thousand and 85 questions about every thing under the sun and
+moon, and things over 'em, and outside of 'em, and inside.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, I panted for breath, but wouldn't give in. I was determined to use
+Cicely first-rate, and we loved the boy too. But, oh! it was a weary love,
+and a short-winded love, and a hoarse one.
+</p>
+<p>
+We went to bed tuckered completely out, but good-natured: our love for 'em
+held us up. And when we made the estimate, it wuzn't in a cross tone, but
+amiable, and almost winnin'. Josiah thought they went up into the
+trillions. But I am one that never likes to set such things too high; and
+I said calmly, 3,000 and 85. And finally he gin in that mebby it wuzn't no
+more than that.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cicely told me she couldn't stay with us very long now; for her aunt Mary
+wuz expectin' to go away to the Michigan pretty soon, to see a daughter
+who wus out of health,&mdash;had been out of it for some time,&mdash;and
+she wanted a visit from her neice Cicely before she went. But she promised
+to come back, and make a good visit on her way home.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so it was planned. The next day was Sunday, and Cicely wus too tired
+with her journey to go to meetin'. But the boy went. He sot up, lookin'
+beautiful, by the side of me on the back seat of the Democrat; his uncle
+Josiah sot in front; and Ury drove. Ury Henzy, he's our hired man, and a
+tolerable good one, as hired men go. His name is Urias; but we always call
+him Ury,&mdash;spelt U-r-y, Ury,&mdash;with the emphasis on the U.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, that day Elder Minkly preached. It wus a powerful sermon, about the
+creation of the world, and how man was made, and the fall of Adam, and
+about Noah and the ark, and how the wicked wus destroyed. It wus a
+middlin' powerful sermon; and the boy sot up between Josiah and me, and we
+wus proud enough of him. He had on a little green velvet suit and a deep
+linen collar; and he sot considerable still for him, with his eyes on
+Elder Minkly's face, a thinkin', I guess, how he would put us through our
+catechism on the way home. And, oh! didn't he, didn't he do it? I s'pose
+things seem strange to children, and they can't help askin' about 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+But 4,000 wus the estimate Josiah and me calculated on our pillows that
+night wus the number of questions the boy asked on our way home, about the
+creation, how the world wus made, and the ark&mdash;oh, how he harressed
+my poor companion about the animals! &ldquo;Did they drive 2 of all the animals
+in the world in that house, uncle Josiah?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/050.jpg" alt="Going to Meeting" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;2 elfants, and rinosterhorses, and snakes, and snakes, and bears, and
+tigers, and cows, and camels, and hens?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And flies, uncle Josiah?&mdash;did they drive in two flies? and
+mud-turkles? and bumble-bees? and muskeeters? Say, uncle Josiah, did they
+drive in muskeeters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I s'pose so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>How</i> could they drive in two muskeeters?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! less stop talkin' for a spell&mdash;shet up your little mouth,&rdquo; says
+Josiah in a winnin' tone, pattin' him on his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can shut up my mouth, uncle Josiah, but I can't shut up my thinker.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Josiah sithed; and, right while he wus a sithin', the boy commenced agin
+on a new tack.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What for a lookin' place was paradise?&rdquo; And then follered 800 questions
+about paradise. Josiah sweat, and offered to let the boy come back, and
+set with me. He had insisted, when we started from the meetin'-house, on
+havin' the boy set on the front seat between him and Ury.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I demurred about any change, and leaned back, and eat a sweet apple. I
+don't think it is wrong Sundays to eat a sweet apple. And the boy kep' on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What did Adam fall off of? Did he fall out of the apple-tree?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no! he fell because he sinned.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But the boy went right on, in a tone of calm conviction,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No big man would be apt to fall a walking right along. He fell out of the
+apple-tree.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he says, after a minute's still thought,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe, if I had been there, and had a string round Adam's leg, I
+could kep' him from fallin' off;&mdash;and say, where was the Lord?
+Couldn't He have kept him? say, couldn't He?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: He can do any thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, then, why didn't He?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Josiah groaned, low.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If Adam hadn't fell, I wouldn't have fell, would I?&mdash;nor you&mdash;nor
+Ury&mdash;nor anybody?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: I s'pose not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, wouldn't it have paid to kept Adam up? Say, uncle Josiah, say!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! less talk about sunthin' else,&rdquo; says my poor Josiah. &ldquo;Don't you want
+a sweet apple?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; and say! what kind of a apple was it that Adam eat? Was it a sweet
+apple, or a greening, or a sick-no-further? And say, was it <i>right</i>
+for all of us to fall down because Adam did? And how did <i>I</i> sin just
+because a man eat an apple, and fell out of an apple-tree, when I never
+saw the apple, or poked him offen the tree, or joggled him, or any thing&mdash;when
+I wasn't there? Say, how was it wrong, uncle Josiah? When I wasn't <i>there!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+My poor companion, I guess to sort o' pacify him, broke out kinder a
+singin' in a tone full of fag, &ldquo;'In Adam's fall, we sinned all.'&rdquo; Josiah
+is sound.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And be I a sinning now, uncle Josiah? and a falling? And is everybody a
+sinning and a falling jest because that one man eat one apple, and fell
+out of an apple-tree? Say, is it <i>right</i>, uncle Josiah, for you and
+me, and everybody that is on the earth, to keep a falling, and keep a
+falling, and bein' blamed, and every thing, when we hadn't done any thing,
+and wasn't <i>there?</i> And <i>say</i>, will folks always keep a
+falling?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, if they hain't good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/053.jpg" alt="Josiah Closing the Conversation" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>How</i> can they keep a falling? If Adam fell out of the apple-tree,
+wouldn't he have struck on the ground, and got up agin? And if anybody
+falls, why, why, mustn't they come to the bottom sometime? If there is
+something to fall off of, mustn't there be something to hit against? And
+<i>say</i>&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Here the boy's eyes looked dreamier than they had looked, and further off.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was I made out of dirt, uncle Josiah?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: we are all made out of dust.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And did God breathe our souls into us? Was it His own self, His own life,
+that was breathed into us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says Josiah, in a more fagged voice than he had used durin' the
+intervue, and more hopelesser.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, if God is in us, how can He lose us again? Wouldn't it be a losing
+His own self? And how could God lose Himself? And what did He find us for,
+in the first place, if He wus going to lose us again?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Here Josiah got right up in the Democrat, and lifted the boy, and sot him
+over on the seat with me, and took the lines out of Ury's hands, and drove
+the old mair at a rate that I told him wus shameful on Sunday, for a
+perfessor.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="'it Wus on a Slay-ride'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER II.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Wall, Cicely and the boy staid till Tuesday night. Tuesday afternoon the
+children wus all to home on a invitation. (I had a chicken-pie, and done
+well by 'em.)
+</p>
+<p>
+And nothin' to do but what Cicely and the boy must go home with 'em: they
+jest think their eyes of Cicely. And I couldn't blame 'em for wantin' her,
+though I hated to give her up.
+</p>
+<p>
+She laid out to stay a few days, and then come back to our house for a day
+or two, and then go on to her aunt Mary's. But, as it turned out, the
+children urged her so, she stayed most two weeks.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the very next day but one after Cicely went to the children's&mdash;And
+don't it beat all how, if visitors get to comin', they'll keep a comin'?
+jest as it is if you begin to have trials, you'll have lots of 'em, or
+broken dishes, or any thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, it wus the very next mornin' but one after Cicely had gone, and my
+voice had actually begun to sound natural agin (the boy had kep' me hoarse
+as a frog answerin' questions). I wus whitewashin' the kitchen, havin' put
+it off while Cicely wus there; and there wus a man to work a patchin' up
+the wall in one of the chambers,&mdash;and right there and then, Elburtus
+Smith Gansey come. And truly, we found him as clever a critter as ever
+walked the earth.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus jest before korkuss; and he wus kinder visatin' round amongst his
+relations, and makin' himself agreable. He is my 5th cousin,&mdash;5th or
+6th. I can't reely tell which, and I don't know as I care much; for I
+think, that, after you get by the 5th, it hain't much matter anyway. I
+sort o' pile 'em all in promiscous. Jest as it is after anybody gets to be
+70 years old, it hain't much matter how much older they be: they are what
+you may call old, anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I think, as I said prior and beforehand, that he wus a 5th. His mother
+wus a Butrick, and her mother wus a Smith. So he come to make us a visit,
+and sort o' ellectioneer round. He wanted to get put in county judge; and
+so, the korkuss bein' held in Jonesville, I s'pose he thought he'd come
+down, and endear himself to us, as they all do.
+</p>
+<p>
+I am one that likes company first-rate, and I always try to do well by
+'em; but I tell Josiah, that somehow city folks (Elburtus wus brought up
+in a city) are a sort of a bother. They require so much, and give you the
+feelin', that, when you are a doin' your very best for 'em, they hain't
+satisfied. You see, some folks'es best hain't nigh so good as other
+folks'es 3d or 4th.
+</p>
+<p>
+But this feller&mdash;why! I liked him from the first minute I sot my eyes
+on him. I hadn't seen him before sence I wus a child, and so didn't feel
+so awful well acquainted with him; or, that is, I didn't, as it were, feel
+intimate. You know, when you don't see anybody from the time you are
+babies till you are married, and have lost a good many teeth, and
+considerable hair, you can't feel over and above intimate with 'em at
+first sight.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I liked him, he wus so unassuming and friendly, and took every thing
+so peaceable and pleasant. And he deserved better things than what
+happened to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, I wus a cleanin' house when he come, cleanin' the kitchen at that
+out-of-the-way time of year on account of Cicely's visit, and on account
+of repairin' that had promised to be done by Josiah Allen, and delayed
+from week to week, and month to month, as is the way with men. But finally
+he had got it done, and I wus ready to the minute with my brush and
+scourin'-cloth.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wus a whitewashin' when he come, and my pail of whitewash wus hung up
+over the kitchen-door; and I stood up on a table, a whitewashin' the
+ceilin, when I heard a buggy drive up to the door, and stop. And I stood
+still, and listened; and then I heard a awful katouse and rumpus, and then
+I heard hollerin'; and then I heard Josiah's voice, and somebody else's
+voice, a talkin' back and forth, sort o' quick and excited.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, some wimmen would have been skairt, and acted skairt; but I didn't. I
+jest stood up on that table, cool and calm as a statue of Repose sculped
+out of marble, and most as white (I wus all covered with whitewash), with
+my brush held easy and firm in my right hand, and my left ear a listenin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Pretty soon the door opened right by the side of the table, and in come
+Josiah Allen and a strange man. He introduced him to me as Elburtus
+Gansey, my 4th cousin; and I made a handsome curchy. I s'pose, bein' up on
+the table, the curchy showed off to better advantage than it would if I
+had been on the floor: it looked well. But I felt that I ort to shake
+hands with him; and, as I went to step down into a chair to get down
+(entirely unbeknown to me), my brush hit against that pail, and down come
+that pail of whitewash right onto his back. (If it had been his head, it
+would have broke it.)
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/058.jpg" alt="Excellent Lime" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I felt as if I should sink. But he took it the best that ever wus. He
+said, when Josiah and me wus a sweepin' him off, and a rubbin' him off
+with wet towels, that &ldquo;it wusn't no matter at all.&rdquo; And he spoke up so
+polite and courteous, that &ldquo;it seemed to be first-rate whitewash: he never
+see better, whiter lime in his life, than that seemed to be.&rdquo; And then he
+sort o' felt of it between his thumb and finger, and asked Josiah &ldquo;where
+did he get that lime, and if they had any more of it. He didn't believe
+they could get such lime outside of Jonesville.&rdquo; He acted like a perfect
+gentleman.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he told me, in that same polite, pleasant tone, how Josiah's old sheep
+had knocked him over 3 times while he wus a comin' into the house. He
+said, with that calm, gentle smile, &ldquo;that no sooner would he get up, than
+he would stand off a little, and then rush at him with his head down, and
+push him right over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;It is a perfect shame and a disgrace,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;And I have told
+you, Josiah Allen, that some stranger would get killed by that old
+creeter; and I should think you would get rid of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I lay out to, the first chance I get,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+Elburtus said &ldquo;it would almost seem to be a pity, it was so strong and
+healthy a sheep.&rdquo; He said he never met a sheep under any circumstances
+that seemed to have a sounder, stronger constitution. He said of course
+the sheep and he hadn't met under the pleasantest of circumstances, and it
+wusn't over and above pleasant to be knocked down by it three or four
+times; but he had found that he couldn't have every thing as he wanted it
+in this world, and the only way to enjoy ourselves wus to take things as
+they come.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I s'pose that wus the way you took the sheep;&rdquo; and he said, &ldquo;It
+was.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he went on to say in that amiable way of hisen, &ldquo;that it probably
+made it a little harder for him jest at that time, as he wus struck by
+lightnin' that mornin'.&rdquo; (There had been a awful thunder-storm.)
+</p>
+<p>
+Says Josiah, all excitement, &ldquo;Did it strike you sensible?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;You mean senseless, Josiah Allen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I said so, didn't I? Did it strike you senseless, Mr. Gansey?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said: it only stunted him. And then he went on a praisin' up our
+Jonesville lightnin'. He said it wus about the cleanest, quickest
+lightnin' he ever see. He said he believed we had the smartest lightnin'
+in our county that you could find in the nation.
+</p>
+<p>
+So good he acted about every thing. It beat all. Why, he hadn't been in
+the house half an hour when he offered to help me whitewash. I told him I
+wouldn't let him, for it would spile his clothes, and he hadn't ever been
+there a visitin' before, and I didn't want to put him to work. But he hung
+on, and nothin' to do but what he had got to take hold and whitewash. And
+I had to give up and let him; for I thought it wus better manners to put a
+visiter to work, than it wus to dispute and quarrel with 'em: and, of
+course, he wasn't used to it, and he filled one eye most full of lime. It
+wus dretful painful, dretful.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I swabbed it out with viniger, and it got easier about the middle of
+the afternoon. It bein' work that he never done before, the whitewashin'
+looked like fury; but I done it all over after him, and so I got along
+with it, though it belated me. But his offerin' to do it showed his good
+will, anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+I shouldn't have done any more at all after Elburtus had come, only I had
+got into the job, and had to finish it; for I always think it is better
+manners, when visitors come unexpected, and ketch you in some mean job, to
+go on and finish it as quick as you can, ruther than to set down in the
+dirt, and let them, ditto, and the same.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Josiah was ketched jest as I wus, for he had a piece of winter wheat
+that wus spilin' to be cut; and he had got the most of it down, and had to
+finish it: it wus lodged so he had to cut it by hand,&mdash;the machine
+wouldn't work on it. And jest as quick as Elburtus had got so he could see
+out of that eye, nothin' to do but what he had got to go out and help
+Josiah cut that wheat. He hadn't touched a scythe for years and years, and
+it wasn't ten minutes before his hands wus blistered on the inside. But he
+would keep at it till the blisters broke, and then he had to stop anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+He got along quite well after that: only the lot where Josiah wus to work
+run along by old Bobbet'ses, and he had carried a jug of sweetened water
+and viniger and ginger out into the lot, and Elburtus had talked so polite
+and cordial to him, a conversin' on politics, that he got attached to him,
+and treated him to the sweetened water.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/062.jpg" alt="Elburtus Endearin' Himself to Mr. Bobbet" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And Elburtus, not wantin' to hurt his feelin's, drinked about 3 quarts. It
+made him deathly sick, for it went aginst his stomach from the first: he
+never loved it. And Miss Bobbet duz fix it dretful sickish,&mdash;sweetens
+it with sale mollasses for one thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how sick that feller wus when he come in to supper! had to lay right
+down on the lounge.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Elburtus, what made you drink it, when it went aginst your
+stomach?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he in a faint voice, and pale round his lips as any thing, &ldquo;I
+didn't want to hurt his feelin's by refusin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, out to one side, &ldquo;Did you ever, Josiah Allen, see such goodness in
+your life?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never see such dumb foolishness,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;I'd love to have anybody
+ketch me a drinkin' three or four quarts of such stuff out of politeness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I coldly: &ldquo;you hain't good enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, that night his bed got a fire. It seemed as if every thing under the
+sun wus a goin' to happen to that man while he wus here. You see, the
+house wus all tore up a repairing and I had to put him up-stairs: and the
+bed had been moved out by carpenters, to plaster a spot behind the bed;
+and, unbeknown to me, they had set it too near the stove-pipe. And the hot
+pipe run right up by the side of it, right by the bed-clothes. It took
+fire from the piller-case.
+</p>
+<p>
+We smelt a dretful smudge, and Josiah run right up-stairs: it had only
+jest ketched a fire, and Elburtus was sound asleep; and Josiah, the minute
+he see what wus the matter, he jest ketched up the water-pitcher, and
+throwed the water over him; and bein' skairt and tremblin', the pitcher
+flew out of his hand, and went too, and hit Elburtus on the end of his
+nose, and took a piece of skin right off.
+</p>
+<p>
+He waked up sudden; and there he wus, all drownded out, and a piece gone
+off of his nose.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, most any other man would have acted mad. Josiah would have acted mad
+as a mad dog, and madder. But you ort to see how good Elburtus took it,
+jest as quick as he got his senses back. Josiah said he could almost take
+his oath that he swore out as cross a oath as he ever heard swore the
+first minute before he got his eyes opened, but I believe he wus mistaken.
+But anyway, the minute his senses come back, and he see where he wuz, you
+ort to see how he behaved. Never, never did I hear of such manners in all
+my born days! Josiah told me all about it.
+</p>
+<p>
+There Elburtus stood, with his nose a bleedin', and his whiskers singed,
+and a drippin' like a mushrat. But, instead of jawin' or complainin', the
+first thing he said wuz, &ldquo;What a splendid draft our stove must have, or
+else the stove-pipe wouldn't be so hot!&rdquo; (I had done some cookin' late in
+the evenin', and left a fire in the stove.)
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said our stove-wood must be of the very best quality; and he asked
+Josiah where he got it, and if he had to pay any thing extra for that
+kind. He said he'd give any thing if he could get holt of a cord of such
+wood as that!
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah said he felt fairly stunted to see such manners; and he went to
+apologisin' about how awful bad it was for him to get his whiskers singed
+so, and how it wus a pure axident his lettin' the pitcher slip out of his
+hand, and he wouldn't have done it for nothin' if he could have helped it,
+and he wus afraid it had hurt him more than he thought for.
+</p>
+<p>
+And such manners as that clever critter showed then! He said he was a
+calculatin' to get his whiskers cut that very day, and it was all for the
+best; he persumed they wus singed off in jest the shape he wanted 'em: and
+as for his nose, he wus always ashamed of it; it wus always too long, and
+he should be glad if there wus a piece gone off of it: Josiah had done him
+a favor to help him get rid of a piece of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, when Josiah told it all over to me after he come down, I told him &ldquo;I
+believed sunthin' would happen to that man before long. I believed he wus
+too good for earth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Josiah can't bear to hear me praise up any mortal man only himself, and he
+muttered sunthin' about &ldquo;he bet he wouldn't be so tarnel good after
+'lection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I wouldn't hear 110 such talk; and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If there wus ever a saint on earth, it is Elburtus Smith Gansey;&rdquo; and
+says I, &ldquo;If you try to vote for anybody else, I'll know the reason why.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, wall! who said I wus a goin' to? I shall probable vote in the
+family; but he hain't no more saint than I be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I gin him a witherin' look; but, as it wus dark as pitch in the room, he
+didn't act withered any. And I spoke out agin, and says I, in a low, deep
+voice,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it wus one of the relations on your side, Josiah Allen, you would say
+he acted dretful good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;There is such a thing, Samantha, as bein' <i>too</i> good&mdash;too
+<i>dumb</i> good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I didn't multiply any more words with him, and we went to sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, that is jest the way that feller acted for the next five days. Why,
+the neighbors all got to lovin' him so, why, they jest about worshipped
+him. And Josiah said that there wuzn't no use a talkin', Elburtus would
+get the nomination unanimous; for everybody that had seen him appear (and
+he had been all over the town appearing to 'em, and endearin' himself to
+'em, cleer out beyond Jonesville as far as Spoon Settlement and Loontown),
+why, they jest thought their eyes of him, he wus so thoughtful and urbane
+and helpful. Why, there hain't no tellin' how much helpfuler he wuz than
+common folks, and urbaner.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, Josiah and me drove into Jonesville one day towards night; and
+Elburtus had been there all day. Josiah had some cross-gut saws that he
+wanted to get filed, and had happened to mention it before Elburtus; and
+nothin' to do but he must go and carry 'em to the man in Jonesville that
+wus goin' to do it, and help him file 'em. Josiah told him we wus goin'
+over towards night with the team, and could carry 'em as well as not; and
+he hadn't better try to help, filin' saws wus such a sort of a raspin'
+undertakin'. But Elburtus said &ldquo;he should probably go through more raspin'
+jobs before he died, or got the nomination; and Josiah could have 'em to
+bring home that night.&rdquo; So he sot out with 'em walkin' a foot.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/067.jpg" alt="Elbertus Appearin'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Wall, when we drove in, I see Elburtus a liftin' and a luggin', a loadin'
+a big barrell into a double wagon for a farmer; and I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What under the sun is Elburtus Gansey a doin'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And Josiah says, in a gay tone,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is a electionerin', Samantha: see him sweat,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;Salt is heavy,
+and political life is wearin', when anybody goes into it deep, and tackles
+it in the way Elburtus tackles it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He seemed to think it wus a joke; but I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is jest a killin' himself, Josiah Allen; and you would set here, and
+see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't a runnin',&rdquo; says he in a calm tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I: &ldquo;you wouldn't run a step to help anybody. And see there,&rdquo;
+ says I. &ldquo;How good, how good that man is!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Elburtus had finished loadin' the salt, and now he wus a holdin' the
+horses for the man to load some spring-beds. And the horses wus skairt by
+'em, and wuz jest a liftin' Elburtus right up offen his feet. Why, they
+pranced, and tore, and lifted him up, and switched him round, and then
+they'd set him down with a crash, and whinner.
+</p>
+<p>
+But that man smiled all the time, and took off his hat, and bowed to me:
+we went by when he wus a swingin' right up in the air. I never see the
+beat of his goodness. Why, we found out afterwards, that, besides filin'
+them saws, he had loaded seven barrells of salt that day, besides other
+heavy truck. That night he wus perfectly beat out&mdash;but good.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah said that Philander Dagget'ses wive's brother wouldn't have no
+chance at all. He wanted the nomination awful, and Philander had been a
+workin' for him all he could; and if Elburtus hadn't come down to
+Jonesville, and showed off such a beautiful demeanor and actions, why, we
+all thought that Philander's wive's brother would have got it. And I
+couldn't help feelin' kind o' sorry for him, though highly tickled for
+Elburtus. We both of us, Josiah and me, felt very pleased and extremely
+tickled to think that Elburtus wus so sure of it; for there wus a good
+deal of money in the office, besides honor, sights of honor.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, when the mornin' of town-meetin' came, that critter wus so awful
+clever that nothin' to do but what he must help Josiah do the chores.
+</p>
+<p>
+And amongst other chores Josiah had to do that mornin', wus to carry home
+a plow that belonged to old Dagget. And old Dagget wanted Josiah, when he
+had got through with it, to carry it to his son Philander's: and Philander
+had left word that he wanted it that mornin'; and he wanted it carried
+down to his lower barn, that stood in a meadow a mile away from any house.
+Philander'ses land run in such a way that he had to build it there to
+store his fodder.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, time run along, and it got time to start for town-meetin', and
+Elburtus couldn't be found. I hollered to him from the back stoop, and
+Josiah went out to the barn and hollered; but nothin' could be seen of
+him. And Josiah got all ready, and waited, and waited; and I told him that
+Elburtus had probable got in such a hurry to get there, that he had
+started on a foot, and he had better drive on, and he would overtake him.
+So finally he did; and he drove along clear to Jonesville, expectin' to
+overtake him every minute, and didn't. And the hull day passed off, and no
+Elburtus. And nobody had seen him. And everybody thought it looked so
+curius in him, a disapearin' as he did, when they all knew that he had
+come down to our part of the county a purpose to get the nomination. Why,
+his disapearin' as he did looked so awful strange, that they didn't know
+what to make of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/070.jpg" alt="Elburtus Holding the Horses" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And the opposition side, Philander Daggets'es wive's brother's friends,
+started the story that he wus arrested for stealin' a sheep, and wus
+dragged off to jail that mornin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course Josiah tried to dispute it; but, as he wus as much in the dark
+as any of 'em as to where he wuz, his disputin' of it didn't amount to any
+thing. And then, Josiah's feelin' so strange about Elburtus made his eyes
+look kinder glassy and strange when they wus talkin' to him about it; and
+they got up the story, so I hearn, that Josiah helped him off with the
+sheep, and wus feelin' like death to have him found out.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the friends of Philander Daggets'es wive's brother had it all their
+own way, and he wus elected almost unanimous. Wall, Josiah come home
+early, he wus so worried about Elburtus. He thought mebby he had come back
+home after he had got away, and wus took sick sudden. And his first words
+to me wuz,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is Elburtus? Have you seen Elburtus?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then wus my time to be smit and horrow-struck. And the more we got to
+thinkin' about it, the more wonderful did it seem to us, that that man had
+dissapeared right in broad daylight, jest as sudden and mysterious as if
+the ground had opened, and swallowed him down, or as if he had spread a
+pair of wings, and flown up into the sky.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not that I really thought he had. I couldn't hardly associate the idee of
+heaven and endless repose with a short frock-coat and boots, and a blue
+necktie and a stiff shirt-collar. But, oh! how strange and mysterious it
+did seem to be! We talked it over and over, and we could not think of any
+thing that could happen to him. He knew enough to keep out of the creek;
+and there wasn't no woods nigh where he could get lost, and he wus too old
+to be stole. And so we thought and thought, and racked our 2 brains.
+</p>
+<p>
+And finally I says, &ldquo;Wall! it hain't happened for several thousand years,
+but I don't know what to think. We read of folks bein' translated up to
+heaven when they get too good for earth, and you know I have told you
+several times that he wus too clever for earth. I have thought he wus not
+of the earth, earthy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I have thought,&rdquo; says he, sort o' snappish, &ldquo;that he wus of politics,
+politicky.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Josiah Allen, I should be afraid, if I wus in your place, to talk
+in that way in such a time as this,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I have felt, when I see his
+actions when he wus knocked over by that sheep, and covered with lime, and
+sot fire to, I have felt as if we wus entertainin' a angel unawares.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;it <i>wuz unawares</i>, entirely <i>unawares</i> to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+His axent wus dry, dry as chaff, and as full of ironry as a oven-door or
+flat-iron.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;mebby you will see the time, before the sun rises on your
+bald head again, that you will be sorry for such talk.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;If it wus
+one of the relation on your side, mebby you would talk different about
+him.&rdquo; That touched him; and he snapped out,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you s'pose I care which side he wus on? And I should think it wus
+time to have a little sunthin' to eat: it must be three o'clock if it is a
+minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Can you eat, Josiah Allen, in such a time as this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could if I could <i>get</i> any thing to eat,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;but there
+don't seem to be much prospect of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;The best thing you can do, Josiah Allen, is to foller his tracks.
+The ground is kinder soft and spongy, and you can do it,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Where
+did he go to last from here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Down to Philander Daggets'es, to carry home his plow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That angel man!&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That angel fool!&rdquo; says Josiah. &ldquo;Who asked him to go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;When a man gets too good for earth, there is other ways to
+translate him besides chariots of fire. Who knows but what he has fell
+down in a fit! And do you go this minute, Josiah Allen, and foller his
+tracks!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sha'n't foller nobody's tracks, Samantha Allen, till I have sunthin' to
+eat.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I knew there wuzn't no use of reasonin' no further with him then; for when
+he said Samantha Allen in that axent, I knew he wus as sot as a hemlock
+post, and as hard to move as one. And so my common sense bein' so firm and
+solid, even in such a time as this, I reasoned it right out, he wouldn't
+stir till he had sunthin' to eat, and so the sooner I got his supper, the
+sooner he would go and foller Elburtus'es tracks. So I didn't spend no
+more strength a arguin', but kep' it to hurry up; and my reason is such,
+strong and vigorous and fur-seein', that I knew the better supper he had,
+the more animated would be his search. So I got a splendid supper, but
+quick.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/074.jpg" alt="Hunting for Elburtus" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But, oh! all the time I wus a gettin' it, this solemn and awful question
+wus a hantin' me,&mdash;What had become of Elburtus Smith Gansey? What had
+become of the relation on my side? Oh, the feelin's I felt! Oh, the
+emotions I carried round with me, from buttery to teakettle, and from
+teapot to table!
+</p>
+<p>
+But finally, after eatin' longer than it seemed to me he ever eat before
+(such wus my feelin's), Josiah started off acrost the lot, towards
+Daggets'es barn. And I stood in the west door, with my hand over my eyes,
+a watchin' him most every minute he wus gone. And when that man come back,
+he come a laughin'. And I wus that madded, to have him look in that sort
+of a scorfin' way, that I wouldn't say a word to him; and he come into the
+house a laughin', and sot down and crossed his legs a laughin', and says
+he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you s'pose has become of the relation on your side?&rdquo; And says he,
+snickerin' agin,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You wus in the right on it, Samantha,&mdash;he did asscend: he went up!&rdquo;
+ And agin he snickered loud. And says I coldly, cold as ice almost,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I wuzn't a perfect luny, or idiot, I'd talk as if I knew sunthin'. You
+know I said that, as one who allegores. If you have found Elburtus Gansey,
+I'd say so, and done with it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you <i>wuz</i> in the right of it, and that is what
+tickles me. He got locked up in Dagget's barn. He asscended, jest as I
+told you. He went up the ladder over the hay, to throw down fodder, and
+got locked up <i>axidental</i>.&rdquo; And, as he said &ldquo;axidental,&rdquo; he snickered
+worse than ever.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;It is a mean, miserable, good for nothin', low-lived caper!
+And Philander Dagget done it a purpose to keep Elburtus from the
+town-meetin', so his wive's brother would get the election. And, if I wus
+Elburtus Gansey, I'd sue him, and serve a summons on him, and prosicute
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says Josiah, in the same hilarious axent, and the same scorfin'
+look onto him, &ldquo;Philander says he never felt so worked up about any thing
+in his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night, and found
+Elburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for he wus so afraid
+that some evil-minded person might say he done it a purpose. And he said
+what made him feel the worst about it wuz to think that he should have
+shut him up axidental when he wus a helpin' so good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;The mean, impudent creeter! As good as Elburtus wuz!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says Josiah, &ldquo;you know what I told you,&mdash;there is such a
+thing as bein' <i>too</i> good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought up
+and excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, and
+wouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose that
+wus the great trouble with Elburtus,&mdash;he wus a leetle <i>too</i>
+good.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, come to think it over, I don't s'pose Philander had laid any plot to
+keep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he had
+laughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and had
+made a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of his
+wive's brother, and wanted him to get the election.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I s'pose the idee come to him after Elburtus had got down to the barn
+where he wus a fodderin' his sheep.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, if Elburtus had let well enough alone, and not been <i>too</i>
+good, every thing would have gone off right then, but he wouldn't. Nothin'
+to do but he must help Philander get down his fodder. And I s'pose then
+the idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there till
+after 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' a
+axident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. But
+every time he says that word &ldquo;axident,&rdquo; he will laugh out so sort o'
+aggravatin'. That is what mads me to this day.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, as Josiah says, who would have thought that Elburtus would have
+offered to carry that plow home, and throw down the fodder?
+</p>
+<p>
+But, at any rate, Philander turned the key on him while he wus up
+over-head, and locked him in there for the day. A meaner, low-liveder,
+miserabler caper, I never see nor heard of.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the way Philander gets out of it (he is a natural liar, and has had
+constant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus to
+work on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone out, and
+gone home; and he locked the door, and went away.
+</p>
+<p>
+He says (the mean, sneakin', hippocritical creeter!) that he feels like
+death about it, to think it happened so, and on that day too. And he says
+what makes him feel the meanest is, to think it was his wive's brother
+that wus up on the other side, and got the nomination. He says it leaves
+room for talk.
+</p>
+<p>
+And there it is. You can't sue a man for lockin' his own barn-door. And
+Elburtus wouldn't want it brought into court, anyway; for folks would be a
+wonderin' so what under the sun he wus a prowlin' round for up overhead in
+Philander Daggets'es barn.
+</p>
+<p>
+So he wus obliged to let the subject drop, and Philander has it all his
+own way. And they say his wive's brother give him ten silver dollars for
+his help. And that is pretty good pay for turnin' one lock, about 2
+seconts' work.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, anyway, that wus the last thing that happened to Elburtus in
+Jonesville; and whether he took it polite and easy, or not, I don't know.
+For that night, when Philander went down to the barn to fodder, jest
+before Josiah went there, and let him out (and acted perfectly suprised
+and horrified at findin' him there, Philander did, so I have been told),
+Elburtus started a bee-line for the depo, and never come back here at all;
+and he left a good new handkerchief, and a shirt, and 3 paper collars.
+</p>
+<p>
+And whether he has kep' on a sufferin', or not, I don't know. Mebby he had
+his trials in one batch, as you may say, and is now havin' a spell of
+enjoyments. I am sure, I hope so; for a cleverer, good-natureder,
+polite-appearin'er creeter, <i>I</i> never see, nor don't expect to see
+agin in my life; and so I tell Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER III.
+</h2>
+<p>
+The next evenin' follerin' after the exodus of Elburtus Gansey, Josiah and
+I, thinkin' that we needed a relaxation to relax our two minds, rode into
+Jonesville. We went in the Democrat, at my request; for I wus in hopes
+Cicely would come home with us.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she did. We had a good ride. I sot in front with Josiah at his
+request; and what made it pleasanter wuz, the boy stood up in the Democrat
+behind me a good deal of the way, with his arms round my neck, a kissin'
+me.
+</p>
+<p>
+And when I waked up in the mornin', I wus glad to think they wus there.
+Though Cicely wuzn't well: I could see she wuzn't. I felt sad at the
+breakfast-table to see how her fresh young beauty wus bein' blowed away by
+the sharp breath of sorrow's gale.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she wus sweet and gentle as ever the posy wus we had named her after.
+No Sweet Cicely blow wus ever sweeter and purer than she wuz. After I got
+my work all done up below,&mdash;she offerin' to help me, and a not
+lettin' her lift her finger,&mdash;I went up into her room, where there
+wus a bright fire on the hearth, and every thing looked cozy and snug.
+</p>
+<p>
+The boy, havin' wore himself out a harrowin' his uncle Josiah and Ury with
+questions, had laid down on the crimson rug in front of the fire, and wus
+fast asleep, gettin' strength for new labors.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Cicely sot in a little low rockin'-chair by the side of him. She had
+on a white flannel mornin'-dress, and a thin white zephyr worsted shawl
+round her; and her silky brown hair hung down her back, for she had been a
+brushin' it out; and she looked sweet and pretty enough to kiss; and I
+kissed her right there, before I sot down, or any thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, thinks'es I as I sot down, we will have a good, quiet visit, and
+talk some about other wimmen. (No runnin' 'em: I'd scorn it, and so would
+she.)
+</p>
+<p>
+But I thought I'd love to talk it over with her, about what good
+housekeepers Tirzah Ann and Maggie wuz. And I wanted to hear what she
+thought about the babe, and if she could say in cander that she ever see a
+little girl equal her in graces of mind and body.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I wanted to hear all about her aunt Mary and her aunt Melissa (on her
+father's side). I knew she had had letters from 'em. And I wanted to hear
+how she that was Jane Smith wuz, that lived neighbor to her aunt Mary's
+oldest daughter, and how that oldest daughter wuz, who wus s'posed to be a
+runnin' down. And I wanted to hear about Susan Ann Grimshaw, who had
+married her aunt Melissy's youngest son. There wus lots of news that I
+felt fairly sufferin' for, and lots of news that I felt like disseminatin'
+to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, if you'll believe it, jest as I had begun to inquire, and take
+comfort, she branched right off, a lady-like branch, and a courteous one,
+but still a branch, and begun to talk about &ldquo;what should she do&mdash;what
+could she do&mdash;for the boy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she looked down on him as he lay there, with such a boundless love,
+and a awful dread in her eyes, that it was pitiful in the extreme to see
+her; and says she,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What will become of him in the future, aunt Samantha, with the laws as
+they are now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/081.jpg" alt="The Baby" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And with such a chin and mouth as he has got, says I to myself, lookin'
+down on him; but I didn't say it out loud. I am too well bread.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It must be we can get the laws changed before he grows up. I dare not
+trust him in a world that has such temptations, such snares set ready for
+him. Why,&rdquo; says she&mdash;And she fairly trembled as she said it. She
+would always throw her whole soul into any thing she undertook; and in
+this she had throwed her hull heart, too, and her hull life&mdash;or so it
+seemed to me, to look at her pale face, and her big, glowin' eyes, full of
+sadness, full of resolve too.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, just think of it! How he will be coaxed into those drinking-saloons!
+how, with his easy, generous, good-natured ways,&mdash;and I know he will
+have such ways, and be popular,&mdash;a bright, handsome young man, and
+with plenty of money. Just think of it! how, with those open saloons on
+every side of him, when he can't walk down the street without those gilded
+bars shining on every hand; and the friends he will make, gay, rich,
+thoughtless young men like himself&mdash;they will laugh at him if he
+refuses to do as they do; and with my boy's inherited tastes and
+temperament, his easiness to be led by those he loves, what will hinder
+him from going to ruin as his poor father did? What will keep him, aunt
+Samantha?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she busted out a cryin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+I says, &ldquo;Hush, Cicely,&rdquo; layin' my hand on hern. It wus little and soft,
+and trembled like a leaf. Some folks would have called her nervous and
+excitable; but I didn't, thinkin' what she had went through with the boy's
+father.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;There is One who is able to save him. And, instead of gettin'
+yourself all worked up over what may never be, I think it would be better
+to ask Him to save the boy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do ask Him, every day, every hour,&rdquo; says she, sobbin' quieter like.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, then, hush up, Cicely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And sometimes she would hush up, and sometimes she wouldn't.
+</p>
+<p>
+But how she would talk about what she wanted to do for him! I heard her
+talkin' to her uncle Josiah one day.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, she worried about the boy to that extent, and loved him so, that
+she would have been willin' to have had her head took right off, if that
+would have helped him, if it would have insured him a safe and happy
+future; but it wouldn't: and so she was willin' to do any other hard job
+if there wus any prospect of its helpin' the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+She wus willin' to vote on the temperance question.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Josiah wus more sot than usial that mornin' aginst wimmen's votin';
+and he had begun himself on the subject to Cicely; had talked powerful
+aginst it, but gentle: he loved Cicely as he did his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had been to a lecture the night before, to Toad Holler, a little place
+between Jonesville and Loontown. He and uncle Nate Burpy went up to hear a
+speech aginst wimmen's suffrage, in a Democrat.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah said it wus a powerful speech. He said uncle Nate said, &ldquo;The feller
+that delivered it ort to be President of the United States:&rdquo; he said,
+&ldquo;That mind ort to be in the chair.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I said I persumed, from what I had heard of it, that his mind wuz
+tired, and ort to set down and rest.
+</p>
+<p>
+I spoke light, because Josiah Allen acted so high-headed about it. But I
+do s'pose it wus a powerful effort, from what I hearn.
+</p>
+<p>
+He talked dretful smart, they say, and used big words.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/084.jpg" alt="A Great Effort" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+The young feller that gin the lecture, and his sister, oldest, and she set
+her eyes by him. She had took care of the old folks, supported 'em and
+lifted 'em round herself; took all the care of 'em in every way till they
+died: and then this boy didn't seem to have much faculty for gettin'
+along; so she educated him, sewed for tailors' shops, and got money, and
+sent him to school and college, so he could talk big.
+</p>
+<p>
+And it was such a comfort to that sister, to sort o' rest off for an
+evenin' from makin' vests and pantaloons, cheap, to furnish him money!&mdash;it
+was so sort o' restful to her to set and hear him talk large aginst
+wimmen's suffrage and the weakness and ineficiency of wimmen!
+</p>
+<p>
+He said, the young chap did, and proved it right out, so they said, &ldquo;that
+the franchise was too tuckerin' a job for wimmen to tackle, and that
+wimmen hadn't the earnestness and persistency and deep forethought to make
+her valuable as a franchiser&mdash;or safe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+You see, he had his hull strength, the young chap did; for his sister had
+clothed him, as well as boarded him, and educated him: so he could talk
+powerful. He could use up quantities of wind, and not miss it, havin' all
+his strength.
+</p>
+<p>
+His speech made a deep impression on men and wimmen. His sister bein' so
+wore out, workin' so hard, wept for joy, it was so beautiful, and affected
+her so powerful. And she said &ldquo;she never realized till that minute how
+weak and useless wimmen really was, and how strong and powerful men was.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It wus a great effort. And she got a extra good supper for him that night,
+I heard, wantin' to repair the waste in his system, caused by eloquence.
+She wus supportin' him till he got a client: he wus a studyin' law.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, Josiah wus jest full of his arguments; and he talked 'em over to
+Cicely that mornin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she said, after hearin' 'em all, &ldquo;that she wus willin' to vote on the
+temperance question. She had thought it all over,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Thought how
+the nation lay under the curse of African slavery until that race of
+slaves were freed. And she believed, that when women who were now in legal
+bondage, were free to act as their heart and reason dictated, that they,
+who suffered most from intemperance, would be the ones to strike the blow
+that would free the land from the curse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Curius that she should feel so, but you couldn't get the idee out of her
+head. She had pondered over it day and night, she said,&mdash;pondered
+over it, and prayed over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, come to think it over, I don't know as it wus so curius after all,
+when I thought how Paul had ruined himself, and broke her heart, and how
+her money wus bein' used now to keep grog-shops open, four of her
+buildin's rented to liquor-dealers, and she couldn't help herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cicely owned lots of other landed property in the village where she lived;
+and so, of course, her property wus all taxed accordin' to its worth. And
+its bein' the biggest property there, of course it helped more than any
+thing else did to keep the streets smooth and even before the
+saloon-doors, so drunkards could get there easy; and to get new
+street-lamps in front of the saloons and billiard-rooms, so as to make a
+real bright light to draw 'em in and ruin 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+There wus a few&mdash;the doctor, who knew how rum ruined men's bodies;
+and the minister, he knew how it ruined men's souls&mdash;they two, and a
+few others, worked awful hard to get the saloons shut up.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the executor, who wanted the town to go license, so's he could make
+money, and thinkin' it would be for her interest in the end, hired votes
+with her money. Her money used to hire liquor-votes! So she heard, and
+believed. The idee!
+</p>
+<p>
+So her money, and his influence, and the influence of low appetites,
+carried the day; and the liquor-traffic won. The men who rented her
+houses, voted for license to a man. Her property used agin to spread the
+evil! She labored with these men with tears in her eyes. And they liked
+her. She was dretful good to 'em. (As I say, she held the things of this
+world with a loose grip.)
+</p>
+<p>
+They listened to her respectful, stood with their hats in their' hands,
+answerin' her soft, and went soft out of her presence&mdash;and voted
+license to a man. You see, they wus all willin' to give her love and
+courtesy and kindness, but not the right to do as her heaven-learnt sense
+of right and wrong wanted her to. She had a fine mind, a pure heart: she
+had been through the highest schools of the land, and that higher,
+heavenly school of sufferin', where God is the teacher, and had graduated
+from 'em with her lofty purposes refined and made luminous with some thin'
+like the light of Heaven.
+</p>
+<p>
+But those men&mdash;many of 'em who did not know a letter of the alphabet,
+whose naturally dull minds had become more stupified by habitual vice&mdash;those
+men, who wus her inferiors, and her servants in every thing else, wus each
+one of 'em her king here, and she his slave: and they compelled her to
+obey their lower wills.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, Cicely didn't think it wus right. Curius she should think so, some
+folks thought, but she did.
+</p>
+<p>
+But all this that wore on her wus as nothin' to what she felt about the
+boy,&mdash;her fears for his future. &ldquo;What could she do&mdash;what <i>could</i>
+she do for the boy, to make it safer for him in the future?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I had jest this one answer, that I'd say over and over agin to her,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cicely, you can pray! That is all that wimmen can do. And try to
+influence him right now. God can take care of the boy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I can't keep him with me always; and other influences will come, and
+beat mine down. And I have prayed, but God don't hear my prayer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I'd say, calm and soothin', &ldquo;How do you know, Cicely?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she says, &ldquo;Why, how I prayed for help when my poor Paul went down to
+ruin, through the open door of a grog-shop! If the women of the land had
+it in their power to do what their hearts dictate,&mdash;what the poorest,
+lowest <i>man</i> has the right to do,&mdash;every saloon, every low
+grog-shop, would be closed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She said this to Josiah the mornin' after the lecture I speak of. He sot
+there, seemin'ly perusin' the almanac; but he spoke up then, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can't shet up human nater, Cicely: that will jump out any way. As the
+poet says, 'Nater will caper.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But Cicely went right on, with her eyes a shinin', and a red spot in her
+white cheeks that I didn't like to see.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand temptations that surround my boy now, could be removed, a
+thousand low influences changed into better, helpful ones. There are
+drunkards who long, who pray, to have temptations removed out of their
+way,&mdash;those who are trying to reform, and who dare not pass the door
+of a saloon, the very smell of the liquor crazing them with the desire for
+drink. They want help, they pray to be saved; and we who are praying to
+help them are powerless. What if, in the future, my boy should be like one
+of them,&mdash;weak, tempted, longing for help, and getting nothing but
+help towards vice and ruin? Haven't mothers a right to help those they
+love in <i>every</i> way,&mdash;by prayer, by influence, by legal right
+and might?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be a dangerous experiment, Cicely,&rdquo; says Josiah, crossin' his
+right leg over his left, and turnin' the almanac to another month. &ldquo;It
+seems to me sunthin' unwomanly, sunthin' aginst nater. It is turnin' the
+laws of nater right round. It is perilous to the domestic nature of
+wimmen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think so,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Don't you remember, Josiah Allen, how you
+worried about them hens that we carried to the fair? They wus so handsome,
+and such good layers, that I really wanted the influence of them hens to
+spread abroad. I wanted otherfolks to know about 'em, so's to have some
+like 'em. But you worried awfully. You wus so afraid that carryin' the
+hens into the turmoil of public life would have a tendency to keep 'em
+from wantin' to make nests and hatch chickens! But it didn't. Good land!
+one of 'em made a nest right there, in the coop to the fair, with the
+crowd a shoutin' round 'em, and laid two eggs. You can't break up nature's
+laws; <i>they</i> are laid too deep and strong for any hammer we can get
+holt of to touch 'em; all the nations and empires of the world can't move
+'em round a notch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A true woman's deepest love and desire are for her home and her loved
+ones, and planted right in by the side of these two loves of hern is a
+deathless instinct and desire to protect and save them from danger.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/090.jpg" alt="Samantha's Hens" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good land! I never heard a old hen called out of her spear, and unhenly,
+because she would fly out at a hawk, and cackle loud, and cluck, and try
+to lead her chickens off into safety. And while the rooster is a steppin'
+high, and struttin' round, and lookin' surprised and injured, it is the
+old hen that saves the chickens, nine times out of ten.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is against the evil hawks,&mdash;men-hawks,&mdash;that are ready to
+settle down, and tear the young and innocent out of the home nest, that
+wimmen are tryin' to defend their children from. And men may talk about
+wimmen's gettin' too excited and zealous; but they don't cluck and cackle
+half so loud as the old hen does, or flutter round half so earnest and
+fierce.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the chicken-hawk hain't to be compared for danger to the men-hawks
+Cicely is tryin' to save her boy from. And I say it is domestic love in
+her to want to protect him, and tenderness, and nature, and grace, and&mdash;and&mdash;every
+thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wus wrought up, and felt deeply, and couldn't express half what I felt,
+and didn't much care if I couldn't. I wus so rousted up, I felt fairly
+reckless about carin' whether Josiah or anybody understood me or not. I
+knew the Lord understood me, and I knew what I felt in my own mind, and I
+didn't much care for any thing else. Wimmen do have such spells. They get
+fairly wore out a tryin' to express what they feel in their souls to a
+gain-sayin' world, and have that world yell out at 'em, &ldquo;Unwomanly!
+unwomanly!&rdquo; I say, Cicely wuzn't unwomanly. I say, that, from the very
+depths of her lovin' little soul, she wus pure womanly, affectionate,
+earnest, tender-hearted, good; and, if anybody tells me she wuzn't, I'll
+know the reason why.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, while I wus a reveryin' this, my Josiah spoke out agin', and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Influence the world through your child, Cicely! influence him, and let
+him influence the world. Let him make the world better and purer by your
+influencein' it through him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not use that influence <i>now, myself</i>? I have it here right in my
+heart, all that I could hope to teach to my boy, at the best. And why
+wait, and set my hopes of influencing the world through him, when a
+thousand things may happen to weaken that influence, and death and change
+may destroy it? Why, my one great fear and dread is, that my boy will be
+led away by other, stronger influences than mine,&mdash;the temptations
+that have overthrown so many other children of prayer&mdash;how dare I
+hope that my boy will withstand them? And death may claim him before he
+could bear my influence to the world. Why not use it now, myself, to help
+him, and other mothers' boys? If it is, as you say, an experiment, why not
+let mothers try it? It could not do any harm; and it would ease our poor,
+anxious hearts some, to make the effort, even if it proved useless. No one
+can have a deeper interest in the children's welfare than their mothers.
+Would they be apt to do any thing to harm them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I spoke up, entirely unbeknown to myself, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Selfishness has had its way for years and years in politics, and now why
+not let unselfishness have it for a change? For, Josiah Allen,&rdquo; says I
+firmly, &ldquo;you know, and I know, that, if there is any unselfishness in this
+selfish world, it is in the heart of a mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be apt to be dangerous,&rdquo; says Josiah, crossin' his left leg over
+his right one, and turnin' to a new month in the almanac. &ldquo;It would most
+likely be apt to be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Why</i>?&rdquo; says Cicely. &ldquo;Why is it dangerous? Why is it wrong for a
+women to try to help them she would die for? Yes,&rdquo; says she solemnly, &ldquo;I
+would die for Paul any time if I knew it would smooth his pathway, make it
+easier for him to be a good man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, you see, Cicely,&rdquo; says Josiah in a soft tone,&mdash;his love for
+her softenin' and smoothin' out his axent till it sounded almost foolish
+and meachin',&mdash;&ldquo;you see, it would be dangerous for wimmen to vote,
+because votin' would be apt to lower wimmen in the opinion of us men and
+the public generally. In fact, it would be apt to lower wimmen down to
+mingle in a lower class. And it would gaul me dretfully,&rdquo; says Josiah,
+turnin' to me, &ldquo;to have our sweet Cicely lower herself into a lower grade
+of society: it would cut me like a knife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I spoke right up, for I can't stand too much foolishness at one
+time from man or woman; and I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd love to have you speak up, Josiah Allen, and tell me how wimmen would
+go to work to get any lower in the opinion of men; how they could get into
+any lower grade of society than they are minglin' with now. They are
+ranked now by the laws of the United States, and the will of men, with
+idiots, lunatics, and criminals. And how pretty it looks for you men to
+try to scare us, and make us think there is a lower class we could get
+into! <i>There hain't any lower class that we can get into</i> than the
+ones we are in now; and you know it, Josiah Allen. And you sha'n't scare
+Cicely by tryin' to make her think there is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He quailed. He knew there wuzn't. He knew he had said it to scare us,
+Cicely and me, and he felt considerable meachin' to think he had got found
+out in it. But he went on in ruther of a meek tone,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be apt to make talk, Cicely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do I care for talk?&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;What do I care for honor, or praise,
+or blame? I only want to try to save my boy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/094.jpg" alt="Cicely and Her Peers" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And she kep' right on with her tender, earnest voice, and her eyes a
+shinin' like stars,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I not a right to help him? Is he not <i>my</i> child? Did not God
+give me a <i>right</i> to him, when I went down into the darkness with God
+alone, and a soul was given into my hands? Did I not suffer for him? Have
+I not been blessed in him? Why, his little hands held me back from the
+gates of death. By all the rights of heavenliest joy and deepest agony&mdash;is
+he not <i>mine</i>? Have I not a <i>right</i> to help him in his future?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now I hold him in my arms, my flesh, my blood, my life. I hold him on my
+heart now: he is <i>mine</i>. I can shield him from danger: if he should
+fall into the flames, I could reach in after him, and die with him, or
+save him. God and man give me that right now: I do not have to ask for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But in a few years he will go out from me, carrying my own life with him,
+my heart will go with him, to joy or to death. He will go out into dangers
+a thousand-fold worse than death,&mdash;dangers made respectable and
+legal,&mdash;and I can't help him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>I</i> his mother, who would die for him any hour&mdash;I must stand
+with my eyes open, but my hands bound, and see him rushing headlong into
+flames tenfold hotter than fire; see him on the brink of earthly and
+eternal ruin, and can't reach out my hand to hold him back. My <i>boy!</i>
+My <i>own!</i> Is it right? Is it just?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she got up, and walked the room back and forth, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How can I bear the thought of it? How can I live and endure it? And how
+can I die, and leave the boy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And her eyes looked so big and bright, and that spot of red would look so
+bright on her white cheeks, that I would get skairt. And I'd try to sooth
+her down, and talk gentle to her. And I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All things are possible with God, and you must wait and hope.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But she says, &ldquo;What will hope do for me when my boy is lost? I want to
+save him now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It did beat all, as I told Josiah, out to one side, to see such hefty
+principles and emotions in such a little body. Why, she didn't weigh much
+over 90, if she did any.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Josiah whispered back, &ldquo;All women hain't like Cicely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says in the same low, deep tones, &ldquo;All men hain't like George
+Washington! Now get me a pail of water.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he went out. But it did beat all, how that little thing, when she
+stood ready, seemin'ly, to tackle the nation&mdash;I've seen her jump up
+in a chair, afraid of a mice. The idee of anybody bein' afraid of a mice,
+and ready to tackle the Constitution!
+</p>
+<p>
+And she'd blush up red as a rosy if a stranger would speak to her. But she
+would fight the hull nation for her boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I'd try to sooth her (for that red spot on her cheeks skairt me, and I
+foreboded about her). I said to her after Josiah went out, a holdin' her
+little hot hands in mine,&mdash;for sometimes her hands would be hot and
+feverish, and then, agin, like two snowflakes,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cicely, women's voting on intemperance would, as your uncle Josiah says,
+be a experiment. I candidly think and believe that it would be a good
+thing,&mdash;a blessin' to the youth of the land, a comfort to the
+females, and no harm to the males. But, after all, we don't know what it
+would do&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I <i>know</i>&rdquo; says she. And her eyes had such a far-off, prophetic look
+in 'em, that I declare for't, if I didn't almost think she <i>did</i>
+know. I says to myself,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's so sweet and unselfish and good, that I believe she's more than
+half-ways into heaven now. The Holy Scriptures, that I believe in, says,
+'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' And it don't say
+where they shall see Him, or when. And it don't say that the light that
+fell from on high upon the blessed mother of our Lord, shall never fall
+again on other heart-broken mothers, on other pure souls beloved of Him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And it is the honest truth, that it would not have surprised me much
+sometimes, as she wus settin' in the twilight with the boy in her arms, if
+I had seen a halo round her head; and so I told Josiah one night, after
+she had been a settin' there a holdin' the boy, and a singin' low to him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;'A charge to keep I have,&mdash;
+A God to glorify;
+A never-dying soul to save,
+And fit it for the sky.'&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+<p>
+It wuzn't <i>her</i> soul she wus a thinkin' of, I knew. She didn't think
+of herself: she never did.
+</p>
+<p>
+And after she went to bed, I mentioned the halo. And Josiah asked what
+that was. And I told him it was &ldquo;the inner glory that shines out from a
+pure soul, and crowns a holy life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;he s'posed it was some sort of a headdress. Wimmen was so
+full of new names, he thought it was some new kind of a crowfar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I knew what he meant. He didn't mean crowfar, he meant <i>crowfure</i>.
+That is French. But I wouldn't hurt his feelin's by correctin' him; for I
+thought &ldquo;fur&rdquo; or &ldquo;fure,&rdquo; it didn't make much of any difference.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/098.jpg" alt="'A Charge to Keep I Have.'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Wall, the very next day, when Josiah came from Jonesville,&mdash;he had
+been to mill,&mdash;he brought Cicely a letter from her aunt Mary. She
+wanted her to come on at once; for her daughter, who wus a runnin' down,
+wus supposed to be a runnin' faster than she had run. And her aunt Mary
+was goin' to start for the Michigan very soon,&mdash;as soon as she got
+well enough: she wasn't feelin' well when she wrote. And she wanted Cicely
+to come at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+So she went the next day, but promised that jest as quick as she got
+through visitin' her aunt and her other relations there, she would come
+back here.
+</p>
+<p>
+So she went; and I missed her dretfully, and should have missed her more
+if it hadn't been for the state my companion returned in after he had
+carried Cicely to the train.
+</p>
+<p>
+He come home rampant with a new idee. All wrought up about goin' into
+politics. He broached the subject to me before he onharnessed, hitchin'
+the old mair for the purpose. He wanted to be United-States senator. He
+said he thought the nation needed him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Needs you for what?&rdquo; says I coldly, cold as a ice suckle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, it needs somebody it can lean on, and it needs somebody that can
+lean. I am a popular man,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;And if I can help the nation, I will
+be glad to do it; and if the nation can help me, I am willin'. The change
+from Jonesville to Washington will be agreeable and relaxin', and I lay
+out to try it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, in sarkastick tones, &ldquo;It is a pity you hain't got your free pass
+to go on:&mdash;you remember that incident, don't you, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What of it?&rdquo; he snapped out. &ldquo;What if I do?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I thought then, that, when you got high-headed and haughty on any
+subject agin, mebby you would remember that pass, and be more modest and
+unassuming.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He riz right up, and hollered at me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Throw that pass in my face, will you, at this time of year?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he started for the barn, almost on the run.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I didn't care. I wus bound to break up this idee of hisen at once. If
+I hadn't been, I shouldn't have mentioned the free pass to him. For it is
+a subject so gaulin' to him, that I never allude to it only in cases of
+extreme danger and peril, or uncommon high-headedness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now I have mentioned it, I don't know but it will be expected of me to
+tell about this pass of hisen. But, if I do, it mustn't go no further; for
+Josiah would be mad, mad as a hen, if he knew I told about it.
+</p>
+<p>
+I will relate the history in another epistol.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IV.
+</h2>
+<p>
+This free pass of Josiah Allen's wus indeed a strange incident, and it
+made sights and sights of talk.
+</p>
+<p>
+But of course there wus considerable lyin' about it, as you know the way
+is. Why, it does beat all how stories will grow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, when I hear a story nowadays, I always allow a full half for
+shrinkage, and sometimes three-quarters; and a good many times that hain't
+enough. Such awful lyin' times! It duz beat all.
+</p>
+<p>
+But about this strange thing that took place and happened, I will proceed
+and relate the plain and unvarnished history of it. And what I set down in
+this epistol, you can depend upon. It is the plain truth, entirely
+unvarnished: not a mite of varnish will there be on it.
+</p>
+<p>
+A little over two years ago Josiah Allen, my companion, had a opportunity
+to buy a wood-lot cheap. It wus about a mild and a half from here, and one
+side of the lot run along by the side of the railroad. A Irishman had
+owned it previous and prior to this time, and had built a little shanty on
+it, and a pig-pen. But times got hard, the pig died, and owing to that,
+and other financikal difficulties, the Irishman had to sell the place,
+&ldquo;ten acres more or less, runnin' up to a stake, and back again,&rdquo; as the
+law directs.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/102.jpg" alt="Josiah's Wood-lot" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Wall, he beset my companion Josiah to buy it; and as he had plenty of
+money in the Jonesville bank to pay for it, and the wood on our wood-lot
+wus gettin' pretty well thinned out, I didn't make no objection to the
+enterprize, but, on the other hand, I encouraged him in it. And so he made
+the bargain with him, the deed wus made out, the Irishman paid. And Josiah
+put a lot of wood-choppers in there to work; and they cut, and drawed the
+wood to Jonesville, and made money. Made more than enough the first six
+months to pay for the expenditure and outlay of money for the lot.
+</p>
+<p>
+He did well. And he calculated to do still better; for he said the place
+bein' so near Jonesville, he laid out, after he had got the wood off, and
+sold it, and kep' what he wanted, he calculated and laid out to sell the
+place for twice what he give for it. Josiah Allen hain't nobody's fool in
+a bargain, a good deal of the time he hain't. He knows how to make good
+calculations a good deal of the time. He thought somebody would want the
+place to build on.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I asked him one day what he laid out to do with the shanty and the
+pig-pen that wus on it. The pig-pen wus right by the side of the
+railroad-track.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said he laid out to tear 'em down, and draw the lumber home: he
+said the boards would come handy to use about the premises.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I told him I thought that would be a good plan, or words to that
+effect. I can't remember the exact words I used, not expectin' that I
+would ever have to remember back, and lay 'em to heart. Which I should not
+had it not been for the strange and singular things that occurred and took
+place afterwards.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then I asked my companion, if I remember rightly, &ldquo;When he laid out to
+draw the boards home?&rdquo; For I mistrusted there would be some planks amongst
+'em, and I wanted a couple to lay down from the back-door to the pump. The
+old ones wus gettin' all cracked up and broke in spots.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said he should draw 'em up the first day he could spare the team.
+Wall, this wus along in the first week in April that we had this talk:
+warm and pleasant the weather wus, exceedingly so, for the time of year.
+And I proposed to him that we should have the children come home on the
+8th of April, which wus Thomas J.'s birthday, and have as nice a dinner as
+we could get, and buy a handsome present for him. And Josiah was very
+agreeable to the idee (for when did a man ever look scornfully on the idee
+of a good dinner?).
+</p>
+<p>
+And so the next day I went to work, and cooked up every thing I could
+think of that would be good. I made cakes of all kinds, and tarts, and
+jellys. And I wus goin' to have spring lamb and a chicken-pie (a layer of
+chicken, and a layer of oysters. I can make a chicken-pie that will melt
+in your mouth, though I am fur from bein' the one that ort to say it); and
+I wus goin' to have a baked fowl, and vegetables of all kinds, and every
+thing else I could think of that wus good. And I baked a large plum-cake a
+purpose for Whitfield, with &ldquo;Our Son&rdquo; on it in big red sugar letters, and
+the dates of his birth and the present date on each side of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+I do well by the children, Josiah says I do; and they see it now, the
+children do; they see it plainer every day, they say they do. They say,
+that since they have gone out into the world more, and seen more of the
+coldness and selfishness of the world, they appreciate more and more the
+faithful affection of her whose name wus once Smith.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yes, they like me better and better every year, they say they do. And they
+treat me pretty, dretful pretty. I don't want to be treated prettier by
+anybody than the children treat me.
+</p>
+<p>
+And their affectionate devotion pays me, it pays me richly, for all the
+care and anxiety they caused me. There hain't no paymaster like Love: he
+pays the best wages, and the most satisfyin', of anybody I ever see. But I
+am a eppisodin', and to resoom and continue on.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall! the dinner passed off perfectly delightful and agreeable. The
+children and Josiah eat as if&mdash;Wall, suffice it to say, the way they
+eat wus a great compliment to the cook, and I took it so.
+</p>
+<p>
+Thomas J. wus highly delighted with his presents. I got him a nice white
+willow rockin'-chair, with red ribbons run all round the back, and bows of
+the same on top, and a red cushion,&mdash;a soft feather cushion that I
+made myself for it, covered with crimson rep (wool goods, very nice). Why,
+the cushion cost me above 60 cents, besides my work and the feathers.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah proposed to get him a acordeun, but I talked him out of that; and
+then he wanted to get him a bright blue necktie. But I perswaided him to
+give him a handsome china coffee cup and saucer, with &ldquo;To My Son&rdquo; painted
+on it; and I urged him to give him that, with ten new silver dollars in
+it. Says I, &ldquo;He is all the son you have got, and a good son.&rdquo; And Josiah
+consented after a parlay. Why, the chair I give him cost about as much as
+that; and it wuzn't none too good, not at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, he had a lovely day. And what made it pleasanter, we had a prospect
+of havin' another jest as good. For in about 2 months' time it would be
+Tirzah's Ann's birthday; and we both told her, Josiah and me, both did,
+that she must get ready for jest another such a time. For we laid out to
+treat 'em both alike (which is both Christian and common sense). And we
+told 'em they must all be ready to come home that day, Providence and the
+weather permittin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, it wus so awful pleasant when the children got ready to go home,
+that Josiah proposed that he and me should go along to Jonesville with
+'em, and carry little Samantha Joe. And I wus very agreeable to the idee,
+bein' a little tired, and thinkin' such a ride would be both restful and
+refreshin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, oh! how beautiful every thing looked as we rode along! The sun wus
+goin' down in glory; and Jonesville layin' to the west of us, we seemed to
+be a ridin' along right into that glory&mdash;right towards them golden
+palaces, and towers of splendor, that riz up from the sea of gold. And
+behind them shinin' towers wus shadowy mountain ranges of softest color,
+that melted up into the tender blue of the April sky. And right in the
+east a full moon wuz sailin', lookin' down tenderly on Josiah and me and
+the babe&mdash;and Jonesville and the world. And the comet sot there up in
+the sky like a silent and shinin' mystery.
+</p>
+<p>
+The babe's eyes looked big and dreamy and thoughtful. She has got the
+beautifulest eyes, little Samantha Joe has. You can look down deep into
+'em, and see yourself in 'em; but, beyond yourself, what is it you can
+see? I can't tell, nor nobody. The ellusive, wonderful beauty that lays in
+the innocent baby eyes of little Samantha Joe. The sweet, fur-off look, as
+if she wus a lookin' right through this world into a fairer and more
+peaceful one.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/107.jpg" alt="God's Comma" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And how smart they be, who can answer their questioning,&mdash;questionin'
+about every thing. Nobody can't&mdash;Josiah can't, nor I, nor nobody.
+Pretty soon she looked up at the comet; and says she, &ldquo;Nama,&rdquo;&mdash;she
+can't say grandma,&mdash;&ldquo;Nama, is that God's comma?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now, jest see how deep that wuz, and beautiful, very. The heavens wuz full
+of the writin' of God, writin' we can't read yet, and translate into our
+coarser language; and she, with her deep, beautiful eyes, a readin' it
+jest as plain as print, and puttin' in all the marks of punctuation.
+Readin' the marvellous poem of glory, with its tremblin' pause of flame.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah says, it is because she couldn't say comet; but I know better. Says
+I, &ldquo;Josiah Allen, hain't it the same shape as a comma?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he had to gin it up that it was. And in a minute or two she says agin,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nama, what is the comma up there for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now hear that, how deep that wuz. Who could answer that question? I
+couldn't, nor Josiah couldn't. Nor the wisest philosopher that ever walked
+the earth, not one of 'em. From them that kept their night-watches on the
+newly built pyramids, to the astronimers of to-day who are spending their
+lives in the study of the heavens. If every one of them learned men of the
+world, livin' and dead, if they all stood in rows in our door-yard in
+front of little Samantha Joe, they would have to bow their haughty heads
+before her, and put their finger on their lips. Them lips could say very
+large words in every language under the sun; but they couldn't answer my
+baby's question, not one of 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I am eppisodin' fearfully, fearfully; and to resoom.
+</p>
+<p>
+We left the children and the babe safe in their respective housen', and
+happy; and we went on placidly to Jonesville, got our usual groceries, and
+stopped to the post-office. Josiah went into the office, and come out with
+his &ldquo;World,&rdquo; and one letter, a big letter with a blue envelope. I thought
+it had a sort of a queer look, but I didn't say nothin'. And it bein' sort
+o' darkish, he didn't try to open it till we got home. Only I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who do you s'pose your letter is from, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;I don't know: the postmaster had a awful time a tryin' to
+make out who it was to. I should think, by his tell, it wus the dumbdest
+writin' that ever wus seen. I should think, by his tell, it went ahead of
+yourn.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;there is no need of your swearin'.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;If I wus a
+grandfather, Josiah Allen, I would choose my words with a little more
+decency, not to say morality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, wall! your writin' is enough to make a man sweat, and you know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hadn't disputed it,&rdquo; says I with dignity. And havin' laid the blame of
+the bad writin' of the letter he had got, off onto his companion, as the
+way of male pardners is, he felt easy and comfortable in his mind, and
+talked agreeable all the way home, and affectionate, some.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, we got home; and I lit a light, and fixed the fire so it burnt
+bright and clear. And I drawed up a stand in front of the fire, with a
+bright crimson spread on it, for the lamp; and I put Josiah's
+rockin'-chair and mine, one on each side of it; and put Josiah's slippers
+in front of the hearth to warm. And then I took my knittin'-work, and went
+to knittin'; and by that time Josiah had got his barn-chores all done, and
+come in.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/110.jpg" alt="Josiah Reading the Letter" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And the very first thing he did after he come in, and drawed off his
+boots, and wondered &ldquo;why under the gracious heavens it was, that the
+bootjack never could be found where he had left it&rdquo; (which was right in
+the middle of the settin'-room floor). But he found it hangin' up in its
+usual place in the closet, only a coat had got hung up over it so he
+couldn't see it for half a minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+And after he had his warm slippers on, and got sot down in his easy-chair
+opposite to his beloved companion, he grew calmer again, and more
+placider, and drawed out that letter from his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I sot there a knittin', and a watchin' my companion's face at the same
+time; and I see that as he read the letter, he looked smut, and sort o'
+wonder-struck: and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is your letter from, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, lookin' up on top of it,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is from the headquarters of the Railroad Company;&rdquo; and says he,
+lookin' close at it agin, &ldquo;As near as I can make out, it is a free pass
+for me to ride on the railroad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Why, that can't be, Josiah Allen. Why should they give you a free
+pass?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;But I know it is one. The more I look at it,&rdquo;
+ says he, growin' excited over it,&mdash;&ldquo;the more I look at it, the
+plainer I can see it. It is a free pass.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I don't believe it, Josiah Allen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, look at it for yourself, Samantha Allen&rdquo; (when he is dretful
+excited, he always calls me Samantha Allen), &ldquo;and see what it is, if it
+hain't that;&rdquo; and he throwed it into my lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/112.jpg" alt="Copy of the Letter: Free Pass" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I looked at it close and severe, but not one word could I make out, only I
+thought I could partly make out the word &ldquo;remove,&rdquo; and along down the
+sheet the word &ldquo;place,&rdquo; and there wus one word that did look like &ldquo;free.&rdquo;
+ And Josiah jumped at them words; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It means, you know, the pass reads like this, for me to remove myself
+from place to place, free. Don't you see through it?&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I, holdin' the paper up to the light. &ldquo;No, I don't see through
+it, far from it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, highly excited and tickled, &ldquo;I'll try it to-morrow,
+anyway. I'll see whether I am in the right, or not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he went on dreamily, &ldquo;Lemme see&mdash;I have got to move that lumber
+in the mornin' up from my wood-lot. But it won't take me more'n a couple
+of hours, or so, and in the afternoon I'll take a start.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;What under the sun, Josiah Allen, should the Railroad Company
+give you a free pass for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I have my thoughts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He spoke in a dretful sort of a mysterious way, but proud; and I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you think is the reason, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;It hain't always best to tell what you think. I hain't
+obleeged to,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;No. As the poet saith, nobody hain't obleeged to use common
+sense unless they have got it;&rdquo; and I says, in a meanin' tone, &ldquo;No, I
+can't obleege you to tell me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, sure enough, the next day, jest as quick as he got that lumber
+drawed up to the house, Josiah Allen dressed up, and sot off for
+Jonesville, and come home at night as tickled a man as I ever see, if not
+tickleder.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;Now what do you think, Samantha Allen? Now what do you think
+about my ridin' on that pass?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Have you rode on it, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;Yes, mom, I have. I have rode to Loontown and back; and I
+might have gone ten times as fur, and not a word been said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;What did the conductor say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;He didn't say nothin'. When he asked me for my fare, I told
+him I had a free pass, and I showed it to him. And he took it, and looked
+at it close, and took out his specks, and looked and looked at it for a
+number of minutes; and then he handed it back to me, and I put it into my
+pocket; and that wus all there was of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/114.jpg" alt="Looking Dubersome" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;How did the conductor look when he was a readin' it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he owned up that he looked dubersome. But, says he, &ldquo;I rode on it, and
+I told you that I could.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, sithin', &ldquo;there is a great mystery about it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;There hain't no mystery to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I beset him agin to tell me what he thought the reason wus they
+give it to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;he thought it was because he was so smart.&rdquo; Says he, &ldquo;I am a
+dumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as plain
+as I wanted to.&rdquo; And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder every
+minute,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car on
+the track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable and
+dressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose the
+railroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took the
+right way to do it. I shall speak well of 'em as long as I can ride free.
+And, oh! what solid comfort I shall take, Samantha, a ridin' on that pass!
+I calculate to see the world now. And there is nothin' under the sun to
+hender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of such a
+influential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you to go a
+mopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the future on
+my free pass.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I sha'n't ride off on a mystery. I prefer a mare.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, for he wus that proud and excited that you couldn't stop him
+nohow,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will be a dretful savin' of money, but that hain't what I think of the
+most. It is the honor they are a heapin' onto me. To think that they think
+so much of me, set such a store by me, and look up to me so, that they
+send me a free pass without my makin' a move to ask for it. Why, it shows
+plain, Samantha, that I am one of the first men of the age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so he would go on from hour to hour, and from day to day; and I wus
+that dumbfoundered and wonderin' about it, that I couldn't for my life
+tell what to think of it. It worried me.
+</p>
+<p>
+But from that day Josiah Allen rode on that pass, every chance he got.
+Why, he went to the Ohio on it, on a visit to his first wive's sister; and
+he went to Michigan on it, and to the South, and everywhere he could think
+of. Why, he fairly hunted up relations on it, and I told him so.
+</p>
+<p>
+And after he got 'em hunted up, he'd take them onto that pass, and ride
+round with 'em on it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he told every one of 'em, he told everybody, that he thought as much
+agin of the honor as he did of the money. It showed that he wus thought so
+much of, not only in Jonesville, but the world at large.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, he took such solid comfort in it, that it did honestly seem as if he
+grew fat, he wus so puffed up by it, and proud. And some of the neighbors
+that he boasted so before, wus eat up with envy, and seemed mad to think
+he had come to such honor, and they hadn't. But the madder they acted, the
+tickleder he seemed, and more prouder, and high-headeder.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I could not feel so. I felt that there wus sunthin' strange and curius
+about it. And it wus very, very seldom that Josiah could get me to ride on
+it. Though I did take a few short journeys on it, to please him. But I
+felt sort o' uneasy while I was a ridin' on it, same as you feel when you
+are goin' up-hill with a heavy load and a little horse. You kinder stand
+on your feet, and lean forward, as if your bein' oncomfortable, and
+standin' up, helped the horse some.
+</p>
+<p>
+I had a good deal of that restless feelin', and oneasy. And as I told
+Josiah time and time again, &ldquo;that for stiddy ridin' I preferred a mare to
+a mystery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, it run along for a year; and Josiah said he s'posed he'd have to
+write on, and get the pass renewed. As near as he could make out, it run
+out about the 4th day of April. So he wrote down to the head one in
+New-York village; and the answer came back by return mail, and wrote in
+plain writin' so we could read it.
+</p>
+<p>
+It seemed there wus a mistake. It wuzn't a free pass, it wus a order for
+Josiah Allen to remove a pig-pen from his place on the railroad-track
+within three days.
+</p>
+<p>
+There it wuz, a order to remove a nuisence; and Josiah Allen had been a
+ridin' on it for a year, with pride in his mean, and haughtiness in his
+demeanor.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I never see a man more mortified and cut up than Josiah Allen wuz.
+If he hadn't boasted so over its bein' gin to him on account of his bein'
+so smart and popular and etcetery, he wouldn't have felt so cut up. But as
+it was, it bowed down his bald head into the dust (allegory).
+</p>
+<p>
+But he didn't stay bowed down for any length of time: truly, men are
+constituted in such a way that mortification don't show on 'em for any
+length of time.
+</p>
+<p>
+But it made sights and sights of talk in Jonesville. The Jonesvillians
+made sights and sights of fun of him, poked fun at him, and snickered. I
+myself didn't say much: it hain't my way. I merely says this: says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You thought you wus so awful popular, Josiah Allen, mebby you won't go
+round with so haughty a mean onto you right away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Throw my mean in my face if you want to,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;But I guess,&rdquo; says
+he, &ldquo;it will learn 'em another time to take a little more pains with their
+duck's tracks, dumb 'em!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Stop instantly.&rdquo; And he knew what I meant, and stopped.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/118.jpg" alt="Josiah and his Relations on the Pass" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER V.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Josiah is as kind-hearted a man as was ever made. And he loves me with a
+devotion, that though hidden sometimes, like volcanic fires, and other
+married men's affections for their wives, yet it bursts out occasionally
+in spurts and jets of unexpected tenderness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, the very next mornin' after Cicely left for her aunt Mary's, he gave
+me a flaming proof of that hidden fire that burns but don't consume him.
+</p>
+<p>
+A agent come to our dwelling, and with the bland and amiable air of their
+sect, asked me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I would buy a encyclopedia?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I was favorable to the idee, and showed it by my looks and words; but
+Josiah wus awful set against it. And the more favorable I talked about it,
+the more horrow-struck and skairt Josiah Allen looked. And finally he got
+behind the agent, and winked at me, and made motions for me to foller him
+into the buttery. He wunk several times before I paid much attention to
+'em; but finally, the winks grew so violent, and the motions so imperious,
+yet clever, that I got up, and follered him into the buttery. He shet the
+door, and stood with his back against it; and says to me, with his voice
+fairly tremblin' with his emotions,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will throw you, Samantha! you don't want to buy it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What will throw me? and when?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you can't never ride it! How should I feel to see you on
+one of 'em! It skairs me most to death to see a boy ride 'em; and at your
+age, and with your rheumatiz, you'd get throwed, and get your neck broke,
+the first day.&rdquo; Says he, &ldquo;If you have got to have something more stylish,
+and new-fangled than the old mair, I'd ruther buy you a philosopher. They
+are easier-going than a encyclopedia, anyway.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A philosopher?&rdquo; says I dreamily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, such a one as Tom Gowdey has got.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;You mean a velocipede!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and I'll get you one ruther than have you a ridin' round the country
+on a encyclopedia.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+His tender thoughtfulness touched my heart, and I explained to him all
+about 'em. He thought it was some kind of a bycicle. And he brightened up,
+and didn't make no objections to my gettin' one.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, that very afternoon he went to Jonesville, and come home, as I said,
+all rousted up about bein' a senator. I s'pose Elburtus'es bein' there,
+and talkin' so much on politics, had kinder sot him to thinkin' on it.
+Anyway, he come home from Jonesville perfectly rampant with the idee of
+bein' United-States senator. &ldquo;He said he had been approached on the
+subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He said it in that sort of a haughty, high-headed way, such as men will
+sometimes assume when they think they have had some high honors heaped
+onto 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Who has approached you, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/121.jpg" alt="Josiah Being Approached" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it might be a foreign minister, and it might be uncle
+Nate Gowdey.&rdquo; He thought it wouldn't be best to tell who it was. &ldquo;But,&rdquo;
+ says he, &ldquo;I am bound to be senator. Josiah Allen, M.C., will probable be
+wrote on my letters before another fall. I am bound to run.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I coldly, &ldquo;You know you can't run. You are as lame as you can be. You
+have got the rheumatiz the worst kind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;I mean runnin' with political legs&mdash;and I do want to be a
+senator, Samantha. I want to, like a dog, I want the money there is in it,
+and I want the honor. You know they have elected me path-master, but I
+hain't a goin' to accept it. I tell you, when anybody gets into political
+life, ambition rousts up in 'em: path-master don't satisfy me. I want to
+be senator: I want to, like a dog. And I don't lay out to tackle the job
+as Elburtus did, and act too good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No!&rdquo; says I sternly. &ldquo;There hain't no danger of your bein' too good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: I have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. The relation on your side
+was too willin', and too clever. And witnessin' his campaign has learnt me
+some deep lessons. I watched the rocks he hit aginst; and I have laid my
+plans, and laid 'em careful. I am going to act offish. I feel that
+offishness is my strong holt&mdash;and endearin' myself to the masses.
+Educatin' public sentiment up to lovin' me, and urgin' me not to be so
+offish, and to obleege 'em by takin' a office&mdash;them is my 2 strong
+holts. If I can only hang back, and act onwillin', and get the masses
+fierce to elect me&mdash;why, I'm made. And then, I've got a plan in my
+head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned, in spite of myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got a plan in my head, that, if every other plan fails, will elect
+me in spite of the old Harry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh! how that oath grated against my nerve! And how I hung back from this
+idee! I am one that looks ahead. And I says in firm tones,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You never would get the nomination, Josiah Allen! And if you did, you
+never would be elected.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes, I should!&rdquo; says he. But he continued dreamily, &ldquo;There would have
+to be considerable wire-pullin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where would the wires be?&rdquo; says I sternly. &ldquo;And who would pull 'em?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, most anywhere!&rdquo; says he, lookin' dreamily up onto the kitchen
+ceilin', as if wires wus liable to be let down anywhere through the
+plasterin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Should you have to go to pullin' wires?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I should,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you may as well make up your mind in the first ont, that
+I hain't goin' to give my consent to have you go into any thing dangerous.
+I hain't goin' to have you break your neck, at your age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;I don't know but my age is as good a age to break my neck in as
+any other. I never sot any particular age to break my neck in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make fun all you are a mind to of a anxious Samantha,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;but I
+will never give my consent to have you plunge into such dangerous
+enterprizes. And talkin' about pullin' wires sounds dangerous: it sounds
+like a circus, somehow; and how would <i>you</i>, with your back, look and
+feel performin' like a circus?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, you don't understand, Samantha! the wires hain't pulled in that way.
+You don't pull 'em with your hands, you pull 'em with your minds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, wall!&rdquo; says I, brightenin' up. &ldquo;You are all right in that case: you
+won't pull hard enough to hurt you any.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I knew the size and strength of his mind, jest as well as if I had took it
+out of his head, and weighed it on the steelyards. It was <i>not</i> over
+and above large. I knew it; and he knew that I knew it, because I have had
+to sometimes, in the cause of Right, remind him of it. But he knows that
+my love for him towers up like a dromedary, and moves off through life as
+stately as she duz&mdash;the dromedary. Josiah was my choice out of a
+world full of men. I love Josiah Allen. But to resoom and continue on.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah says, &ldquo;Which side had I better go on, Samantha?&rdquo; Says he, kinder
+puttin' his head on one side, and lookin' shrewdly up at the stove-pipe,
+&ldquo;Would you run as a Stalwart, or a Half-breed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I guess you would run more like a lame hen than a Stalwart or a
+Half-breed; or,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;it would depend on what breeds they wuz. If they
+wus half snails, and half Times in the primers, maybe you could get ahead
+of 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think, Samantha Allen, in such a time as this, you would act
+like a rational bein'. I'll be hanged if I know what side to go on to get
+elected!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Josiah Allen, hain't you got any principle? Don't you <i>know</i>
+what side you are on?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, yes, I s'pose I know as near as men in gineral. I'm a Democrat in
+times of peace. But it is human nater, to want to be on the side that
+beats.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed, and murmured instinctively, &ldquo;George Washington!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;George Granny!&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+I sithed agin, and kep' sithin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;It is bad enough, Josiah Allen, to have you talk about runnin'
+for senator, and pullin' wires, and etcetery. But, oh, oh! my agony to
+think my partner is destitute of principle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got as much as most political men, and you'll find it out so,
+Samantha.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+My groans touched his heart&mdash;that man loves me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am goin' to work as they all do. But wimmen hain't no heads for
+business, and I always said so. They don't look out for the profits of
+things, as men do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I didn't say nothin' only my sithes, but they spoke volumes to any one who
+understood their language. But anon, or mebby before,&mdash;I hadn't kep'
+any particular account of time, but I think it wus about anon,&mdash;when
+another thought struck me so, right in my breast, that it most knocked me
+over. It hanted me all the rest of that day: and all that night I lay
+awake and worried, and I'd sithe, and sposen the case; and then I'd turn
+over, and sposen the case, and sithe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sposen he would be elected&mdash;I didn't really think he would, but I
+couldn't for my life help sposen. Sposen he would have to go to
+Washington. I knew strange things took place in politics. Strange men run,
+and run fur: some on 'em run clear to Washington. Mebby he would. Oh! how
+I groaned at the idee!
+</p>
+<p>
+I thought of the awfulness of that place as I had heard it described upon
+to me; and then I thought of the weakness of men, and their liability to
+be led astray. I thought of the powerful blasts of temptation that blowed
+through them broad streets, and the small size of my pardner, and the
+light weight of his bones and principles.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I felt, if things wuz as they had been depictered to me, he would (in
+a moral sense) be lifted right up, and blowed away&mdash;bones,
+principles, and all. And I trembled.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last the idee knocked so firm aginst the door of my heart, that I had
+to let it in. That I <i>must</i>, I <i>must</i> go to Washington, as a
+forerunner of Josiah. I must go ahead of him, and look round, and see if
+my Josiah could pass through with no smell of fire on his overcoat&mdash;if
+there wuz any possibility of it. If there wuz, why, I should stand still,
+and let things take their course. But if my worst apprehensions wuz
+realized, if I see that it was a place where my pardner would lose all the
+modest worth and winnin' qualities that first endeared him to me&mdash;why,
+I would come home, and throw all my powerful influence and weight into the
+scales, and turn 'em round.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/126.jpg" alt="Josiah Being Blown Away" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Of course, I felt that I should have to make some pretext about goin': for
+though I wus as innocent as a babe of wantin' to do so, I felt that he
+would think he wus bein' domineered over by me. Men are so sort o'
+high-headed and haughty about some things! But I felt I could make a
+pretext of George Washington. That dear old martyr! I felt truly I would
+love to weep upon his tomb.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so I told Josiah the next mornin', for I thought I would tackle the
+subject at once. And he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you want to weep on his tomb for, Samantha, at this late day?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;The day of love and gratitude never fades into night, Josiah
+Allen: the sun of gratitude never goes down; it shines on that tomb to-day
+jest as bright as it did in 1800.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, wall! go and weep on it if you want to. But I'll bet half a cent
+that you'll cry onto the ice-house, as I've heard of other wimmen's doin'.
+Wimmen don't see into things as men do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You needn't worry, Josiah Allen. I shall cry at the right time, and in
+the right place. And I think I had better start soon on my tower.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I always was one to tackle hard jobs immejutly and to once, so's to get
+'em offen' my mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I'd like to know,&rdquo; says he, in an injured tone, &ldquo;what you calculate
+to do with me while you are gone?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I'll have the girl Ury is engaged to, come here and do the
+chores, and work for herself; they are goin' to be married before long:
+and I'll give her some rolls, and let her spin some yarn for herself.
+She'll be glad to come.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How long do you s'pose you'll be gone? She hain't no cook. I'd as lives
+eat rolls, as to eat her fried cakes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your pardner will fry up 2 pans full before she goes, Josiah; and I don't
+s'pose I'll be gone over four days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, well! then I guess I can stand it. But you had better make some
+mince-pies ahead, and other kinds of pies, and some fruit-cake, and
+cookies, and tarts, and things: it is always best to be on the safe side,
+in vittles.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So it wus agreed on,&mdash;that I should fill two cubbard shelves full of
+provisions, to help him endure my absence.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wus some in hopes that he might give up the idee of bein' United-States
+senator, and I might have rest from my tower; for I dreaded, oh, how I
+dreaded, the job! But as day by day passed, he grew more and more rampant
+with the idee. He talked about it all the time daytimes; and in the night
+I could hear him murmur to himself,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hon. Josiah Allen!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And once I see it in his account-book, &ldquo;Old Peedick debtor to two
+sap-buckets to Hon. Josiah Allen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he talked sights, and sights, about what he wus goin' to do when he
+got to Washington, D.C.&mdash;what great things he wus goin' to do. And I
+would get wore out, and say to him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall! you will have to get there first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! you needn't worry. I can get there easy enough. I s'pose I shall have
+to work hard jest as they all do. But as I told you before, if every thing
+else fails, I have got a grand plan to fall back on&mdash;sunthin' new and
+uneek. Josiah Allen is nobody's fool, and the nation will find it out so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Then, oh, how I urged him to tell his plan to his lovin' pardner! but he
+<i>wouldn't tell</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+But hours and hours would he spend, a tellin' me what great things he wus
+goin' to do when he got to Washington.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;There is one thing about it. When I get to be United-States
+senator, uncle Nate Gowdey shall be promoted to some high and responsible
+place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without thinkin' whether he is fit for it or not?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mom, without thinkin' a thing about it. I am bound to help the ones
+that help me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You wouldn't have him examined,&rdquo; says I,&mdash;&ldquo;wouldn't have him asked
+no questions?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes! I'd have him pass a examination jest as the New-York aldermen
+do, or the civil-service men. I'd say to him, 'Be you uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Yes.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How long have you been uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he'd answer; and I'd say,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How long do you calculate to be uncle Nate?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he'll tell; and then I'll say,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Enough: I see you have all the qualifications for office. You are
+admitted.' That is what I would do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned. But he kep' on complacently, &ldquo;I am goin' to help the ones that
+elect me, sink or swim; and I calculate to make money out of the project,&mdash;money
+and honor. And I shall do a big work there,&mdash;there hain't no doubt of
+it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, there is political economy. I shall go in strong for that. I shall
+say right to Congress, the first speech I make to it, I shall say, that
+there is too much money spent now to hire votes with; and I shall prove it
+right out, that we can get votes cheaper if we senators all join in
+together, and put our feet right down that we won't pay only jest so much
+for a vote. But as long as one man is willin' to pay high, why, everybody
+else has got to foller suit. And there hain't no economy in it, not a
+mite.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, there is the canal question. I'll make a thorough end of that.
+There is one reform that will be pushed right through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How will you do it?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will have the hull canal cleaned out from one end to the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was readin' only yesterday,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;about the corruption of the canal
+question. But I didn't s'pose it meant that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is because you hain't a man. You hain't got the mind to grasp these
+big questions. The corruption of the canal means that the bottom of the
+canal is all covered with dead cats and things; and it ort to be seen to,
+by men that is capable of seein' to such things. It ort to be cleaned out.
+And I am the man that has got the mind for it,&rdquo; says he proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, there is the Star Route. Nothin' but foolishness from beginnin' to
+end. They might have known they couldn't make any road through the stars.
+Why, the very Bible is agin it. The ground is good enough for me, and for
+any other solid man. It is some visionary chap that begun it in the first
+place. Nothin' but dumb foolishness; and so uncle Nate Gowdey said it was.
+We got to talkin' about it yesterday, and he said it was a pity wimmin
+couldn't vote on it. He said that would be jest about what they would be
+likely to vote for.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is a smart old feller, uncle Nate is, for a man of his age. He talked
+awful smart about wimmin's votin'. He said any man was a fool to think
+that a woman would ever have the requisit grasp of intellect, and the
+knowledge of public affairs, that would render her a competent voter.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/131.jpg" alt="Josiah's Star Route" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, you have got to <i>understand</i> things in order to tackle
+politicks. Politicks takes deep study.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, there is the tariff question, and the revenue. I shall most probable
+favor 'em, and push 'em right through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, wall! a woman most probable couldn't understand it. But I shall push
+'em forward all I can, and lift 'em up.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where to?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, keep a askin', and a naggin'! That is what wears out us public men,&mdash;wimmin's
+questionin'. It hain't so much the public duties we have to perform that
+ages us, and wears us out before our time,&mdash;it is woman's weak
+curiosity on public topics, that her mind is too feeble to grasp holt of.
+It is wearin',&rdquo; says he haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Specially when they don't know what to answer.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Josiah
+Allen, you don't know this minute what tariff means, or revenue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I know what starvation means, and I know what vittles means, and I
+know I am as hungry as a bear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Instinctively I hung on the teakettle. And as Josiah see me pare the
+potatoes, and grind the coffee, and pound the steak, he grew very pleasant
+again in his demeanor; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There will be some abuses reformed when I get to Washington, D.C.; and
+you and the nation will see that there will. Now, there is the
+civil-service law: Uncle Nate and I wus a talkin' about it yesterday. It
+is jest what we need. Why, as uncle Nate said, hired men hain't civil at
+all, nor hired girls either. You hire 'em to serve you, and to serve you
+civil; and they are jest as dumb uppish and impudent as they can be. And
+hotel-clerks&mdash;now, they don't know what civil-service means.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, uncle Nate said when he went to the Ohio, last fall, he stayed over
+night to Cleveland, and the hotel-clerk sassed him, jest because he wanted
+to blow out his light: he wanted uncle Nate to turn it off.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And uncle Nate jest spoke right up, smart as a whip, and said,
+'Old-fashioned ways was good enough for him: blows wus made before
+turners, and he should blow it out.' And the hotel-clerk sassed him, and
+swore, and threatened to make him leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And ruther than have a fuss, uncle Nate said he turned it out. But it
+rankled, uncle Nate says it did, it rankled deep. And he says he wants to
+vote for that special. He says he'd love to make that clerk eat
+humble-pie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle Nate is a sound man: his head is level.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And good, sound platforms, that is another reform, uncle Nate said we
+needed the worst kind, and he hoped I would insist on it when I got to be
+senator. He said there was too much talk about 'em in the papers, and too
+little done about 'em. Why, Elam Gowdey, uncle Nate's youngest boy, broke
+down the platform to his barn, and went right down through it, with a load
+of hay. And nothin' but that hay saved his neck from bein' broke. It
+spilte one of his horses.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle Nate had been urgin' him to fix the platform, or build a new one;
+but he was slack. But, as uncle Nate says, if such things are run by law,
+they will <i>have</i> to be done.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then, there is another thing uncle Nate and I was talkin' about,&rdquo;
+ says he, lookin' very amiable at me as I rolled out my cream biscuit&mdash;almost
+spooney.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/134.jpg" alt="Uncivil Service" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall jest run every poor Irishman and Chinaman out of the country that
+I can.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What has the Irishmen done, Josiah Allen?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! they are poor. There hain't no use in our associatin' with the poor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I dreamily, &ldquo;Did I not read once, of One who renounced the throne of
+the universe to dwell amongst the poor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, wall! most probable they wuzn't Irish.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what has the Chinaman done?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, they are heathens, Samantha. What does the United States want with
+heathens anyway? What the country <i>needs</i> is Methodists.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Somewhere did I not once hear these words,&rdquo; says I musin'ly, as I set the
+coffee-cups on the table,&mdash;&ldquo;'You shall have the heathen for an
+inheritance'&mdash;and 'preach the gospel to the heathen'&mdash;and 'we
+who were sometime heathens, but have received light'? Did not the echo of
+some such words once reach my mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, wall! if you are goin' to quote readin', why can't you quote from
+'The World'? you can't combine Bible and politics worth a cent. And the
+Chinaman works too cheap&mdash;are too industrious, and reasonable in
+their charges, they hain't extravagant&mdash;and they are too dumb
+peacible, dumb 'em!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah Allen!&rdquo; says I firmly, &ldquo;is that all the fault you find with 'em?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, it hain't. They don't want to vote! They don't care a cent about
+bein' path-master or President. And I say, that after givin' a man a fair
+trial and a long one, if he won't try to buy or sell a vote, it is a sure
+sign that he can't asimulate with Americans, and be one with 'em; that he
+can't never be mingled in with 'em peacible. And I'll bet that I'll start
+the Catholics out&mdash;and the Jews. What under the sun is the use of
+havin' anybody here in America only jest Methodists? That is the only
+right way. And if I have my way, I'll get rid of 'em,&mdash;Chinamen,
+Irishmen, Catholics,&mdash;the hull caboodle of 'em. I'll jest light 'em
+out of the country. We can do it too. That big statute in New-York Harbor
+of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, will jest lift her torch up high, and
+light 'em out of the country:&mdash;that is what we had her for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed low, and says, &ldquo;I never knew that wus what she wus there for. I
+s'posed it wus a gift from a land that helped us to liberty and prosperity
+when we needed 'em as bad as the Irishmen and Chinamen do to-day; and I
+s'posed that torch that wus lit for us by others' help, we should be
+willin' and glad to have it shine on the dark cross-roads of others.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, it hain't meant for no such purpose: it is to light up <i>our</i>
+land and <i>our</i> waters. That's what <i>she's</i> there for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed agin, a sort of a cold sithe, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think it looks very well for us New-Englanders a sittin' round
+Plymouth Rock, to be a condemnin' anybody for their religeous beliefs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, there hain't no need of whittlin' out a stick, and worshipin' it,
+as the Chinamen do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How are you goin' to help 'em to worship the true God if you send 'em out
+of the country? Is it for the sake of humanity you drive 'em out? or be
+you, like the Isrealites of old, a worshipin' the golden calf of
+selfishness, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't never worshiped <i>no calf</i>, Samantha Allen. That would be
+the last thing <i>I</i> would worship, and you know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+(Josiah wus very lame on his left leg where he had been kicked by a
+yearlin'. The spot wus black and blue, but healin'.)
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have blanketed that calf with thick patriotic excuses; but I fear,
+Josiah Allen, that the calf is there.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says I dreamily, &ldquo;how the tread of them calves has moved down
+through the centuries! If every calf should amble right out, marked with
+its own name and the name of its owner, what a sight, what a sight it
+would be! On one calf, right after its owner's name, would be branded,
+'Worldly Honor and Fame.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Josiah squirmed, for I see him, but tried to turn the squirm in' into a
+sickly smile; and he murmured in a meachin' voice, and with a sheepish
+smile,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Hon. Josiah Allen. Fame.' That wouldn't look so bad on a likely yearlin'
+or two-year old.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I kep' right on. &ldquo;On another would be marked, 'Wealth.' Very yeller
+those calves would be, and a long, long drove of 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On another would be, 'Earthly Love.' Middlin' good-lookin' calves, these,
+and sights of 'em. But the mantillys that covered 'em would be all wet and
+wore with tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Culture,' 'Intellect,' 'Refinement.' These calves would march right
+along by the side of 'Pride,' 'Vanity,' 'Old Creeds,' 'Bigotry,'
+'Selfishness.' The last-named would be too numerous to count with the
+naked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right through
+meetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;the ground trembles
+under the tread of them calves. I can hear 'em whinner,&rdquo; says I, fillin'
+up the coffee-pot.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Calves don't whinner!&rdquo; says Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I speak parabolickly;&rdquo; and says I, in a very blind way, &ldquo;Parables
+are used to fit the truth to weak comprehensions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall!&rdquo; says he, kinder cross, &ldquo;your potatoes are a burnin' down.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I turned the water off, and mashed 'em up, with plenty of cream and
+butter; and them, applied to his stomach internally, seemed to sooth him,&mdash;them,
+and the nice tender steak, and light biscuit, and lemon puddin' and
+coffee, rich and yellow and fragrant.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/138.jpg" alt="The Golden Calves of Christians" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+He never said a word more about politics till after dinner. But on risin'
+up from the table he told me he had got to go to Jonesville to get the old
+mare shod. And I see sadly, as he stood to the lookin'-glass combin' out
+his few hairs, how every by-path his mind sot out on led up gradually to
+Washington, D.C. For as he stood there, and spoke of the mare's feet, he
+says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The mare is good enough for Jonesville, Samantha. But when we get to
+Washington, we want sunthin' gayer, more stylish, to ride on. I
+calculate,&rdquo; says he, pullin' up his collar, and pullin' down his vest,&mdash;&ldquo;I
+lay out to dress gay, and act gay. I calculate to make a show for once in
+my life, and put on style. One thing I am bound on,&mdash;I shall drive
+tantrum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How?&rdquo; says I sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, I shall buy another mare, most probable some gay-colored one, and
+hitch it before the old white mare, and drive tantrum. You know, it is all
+the style. Mebby,&rdquo; says he dreamily, &ldquo;I shall ride the drag. I s'pose that
+is fashionable. But I'll be hanged if I should think it would be easy
+ridin' unless you had the teeth down. Dog-carts are stylish, I hear; but
+our dog is so dumb lazy, you couldn't get him to go out of a walk. But
+tantrum I <i>will</i> drive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/139.jpg" alt="Josiah Driving Tantrum" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I groaned, and says, &ldquo;Yes, I hain't no doubt that anybody that sees you at
+Washington, will see tantrums, strange tantrums. But you hain't there
+yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, but I most probable shall be ere long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He had actually begun to talk in high-flown, blank verse sort of a way.
+&ldquo;Ere long!&rdquo; that wus somethin' new for Josiah Allen.
+</p>
+<p>
+Alas! every thought of his heart wus tuned to that one political key. I
+mentioned to him that &ldquo;the bobbin to my sewin'-machine was broke, and
+asked him to get a new one of the agent at Jonesville.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he benignantly, &ldquo;I will tend to your machine; and speakin' of
+machines, that makes me think of another thing uncle Nate and I wus
+talkin' about.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Machine politics, I sha'n't favor 'em. What under the sun do they want
+machines to make politics with, when there is plenty of men willin', and
+more than willin', to make 'em? And it is as expensive agin. Machines cost
+so much. I tell you, they cost tarnation high.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can understand you without swearin', Josiah Allen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't a swearin': 'tarnation' hain't swearin', nor never wuz. I shall
+use that word most likely in Washington, D.C.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I coldly, &ldquo;there will have to be some tea and sugar got.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He did not demur. But, oh! how I see that immovible setness of his mind!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I will get some. But won't it be handy, Samantha, to have free
+trade? I shall go for that strong. Why, I can tell you, it will come handy
+along in the winter when the hens don't lay, and we don't make butter to
+turn off&mdash;it will come dretful handy to jest hitch up the mare, and
+go to the store, and come home with a lot of groceries of all kinds, and
+some fresh meat mebby. And mebby some neckties of different colors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who would pay for 'em?&rdquo; says I in a stern tone; for I didn't somehow like
+the idee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, the Government, of course.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I shook my head 2 or 3 times back and forth. I couldn't seem to get the
+right sense of it. &ldquo;I can't understand it, Josiah. We heard a good deal
+about free trade, but I can't believe that is it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, it is, jest that. Free trade is one of the prerequisits of a
+senator. Why, what would a man want to be a senator for, if they couldn't
+make by it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you love your country, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I do: but I don't love her so well as I do myself; it hain't nateral
+I should.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Surely I read long ago,&mdash;was it in the English Reader?&rdquo; says I
+dreamily, &ldquo;or where was it? But surely I have heard of such things as
+patriotism and honor, love of country, and love of the right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I calculate I love my country jest as well as the next man; and,&rdquo;
+ says he firmly, &ldquo;I calculate I can make jest as much out of her, give me a
+chance. Why, I calculate to do jest as they all do. What is the use of
+startin' up, and bein' one by yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That is what Pilate thought, Josiah Allen.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;The majority
+hain't always right.&rdquo; Says I firmly, &ldquo;They hardly ever are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, that is a regular woman's idee,&rdquo; says he, goin' into the bedroom for
+a clean shirt. And as he opened the bureau-draw, he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Another thing I shall go for, is abolishin' lots of the bureaus. Why,
+what is the use of any man havin' more than one bureau? It is nothin' but
+nonsense clutterin' up the house with so many bureaus.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When wimmen get to votin',&rdquo; says he sarcastickly, &ldquo;I'll bet their first
+move will be to get 'em back agin. I'll bet there hain't a women in the
+land, but what would love to have 20 bureaus that they could run to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, you think wimmen <i>will</i> vote, do you, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; says he firmly, &ldquo;that it will be a wretched day for the nation
+if she does. Wimmen is good in their places,&rdquo; says he, as he come to me to
+button up his shirtsleeves, and tie his cravat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are good in their places. But they can't have, it hain't in 'em to
+have, the calm grasp of mind, the deep outlook into the future, that men
+have. They can't weigh things in the firm, careful balences of right and
+wrong, and have that deep, masterly knowledge of national affairs that we
+men have. They hain't got the hard horse sense that anybody has got to
+have in order to make money out of the nation. They would have some
+sentimental subjects up of right or wrong to spend their energies and
+their hearts on. Look at Cicely, now. She means well. But what would she
+do? What would she make out of votin'? Not a cent. And she never would
+think of passin' laws for her own personal comfort, either. Now, there is
+the subsidy bill. I'll see that through if I sweat for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, it would be worth more than a dollar-bill to me lots of times to
+make folks subside. Preachers, now, when they get to goin' beyond the
+20ethly. No preacher has any right to go to wanderin' round up beyond them
+figures in dog-days. And if they could be made to subside when they had
+gone fur enough, why, it would be a perfect boon to Jonesville and the
+nation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And sewin'-machine agents&mdash;and&mdash;and wimmen, when they get all
+excited a scoldin', or talkin' about bonnets, and things. Why! if a man
+could jest lift up his hand, and say 'Subside!' and then see 'em subside&mdash;why,
+I had ruther see it than a circus any day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/143.jpg" alt="A Woman's Place" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I looked at him keenly, and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish such a bill had even now passed; that is, if wimmen could receive
+any benefit from it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, you'll see it after I get to Washington, D.C., most probable. I
+calculate to jest straighten out things there, and get public affairs in a
+good runnin' order. The nation <i>needs</i> me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, wore out, &ldquo;it can <i>have you</i>, as fur as I am
+concerned.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I wus so completely fagged out, that I turned the subject completely
+round (as I s'posed) by askin' him if he laid out to sell our apples this
+year where he did last. The man's wife had wrote to me ahead, and wanted
+to know, for they had bought a new dryin'-machine, and wanted to make sure
+of apples ahead.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says Josiah, drawin' on his overshoes, &ldquo;I shall probable have to
+use the apples this fall to buy votes with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To buy votes?&rdquo; says I, in accents of horrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. I wouldn't tell it out of the family. But you are all in the family,
+you know, and so I'll tell you. I sha'n't have to buy near so many votes
+on account of my plan; but I shall have to buy some, of course. You know,
+they all do; and I sha'n't stand no chance at all if I don't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+My groans was fearful that I groaned at this; but truly, worse was to
+come. He looked kinder pitiful at me (he loves me). But yet his love did
+not soften the firm resolve that wus spread thick over his linement as he
+went on,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I lay out to get lots of votes with my green apples,&rdquo; says he dreamily.
+&ldquo;It seems as if I ought to get a vote for a bushel of apples; but there is
+so much iniquity and cheatin' a goin' on now in politics, that I may have
+to give a bushel and a half, or two bushels: and then, I shall make up a
+lot of the smaller ones into hard cider, and use 'em to&mdash;to advance
+the interests of myself and the nation in that way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is hull loads of folks uncle Nate says he can bring to vote for me,
+by the judicious use of&mdash;wall, it hain't likely you will approve of
+it; but I say, stimulants are necessary in medicine, and any doctor will
+tell you so&mdash;hard cider and beer and whiskey, and so 4th.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/145.jpg" alt="Our Law-makers" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I riz right up, and grasped holt of his arm, and says in stern, avengin'
+tones,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah Allen, will you go right against God's commands, and put the cup
+to your neighbor's lips, for your own gain? Do you expect, if you do, that
+you can escape Heaven's avengin' wrath?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They hain't my neighbors: I never neighbored with 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I sternly, &ldquo;If you commit this sin, you will be held accountable; and
+it seems to me as if you can never be forgiven.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dumb it all, Samantha, if everybody else does so, where will I get my
+votes?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go without 'em, Josiah Allen; go down to poverty, or the tomb, but never
+commit this sin. 'Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his neighbor's
+lips.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They hain't my neighbors, and it probable hain't no cup that they will
+drink out of: they will drink out of gobblers&rdquo; (sometimes when Josiah gets
+excited, he calls goblets, gobblers). But I wus too wrought up and by the
+side of myself to notice it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;To think a human bein', to say nothin' of a perfessor, would go
+to work deliberate to get a man into a state that is jest as likely as not
+to end in a murder, or any crime, for gain to himself.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Think of
+the different crimes you commit by that one act, Josiah Allen. You make a
+man a fool, and in that way put yourself down on a level with disease,
+deformity, and hereditary sin. You steal his reason away. You are a thief
+of the deepest dye; for you steal then, from the man you have stole from&mdash;steal
+the first rights of his manhood, his honor, his patriotism, his duty to
+God and man. You are a thief of the Government&mdash;thief of God, and
+right.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, <i>you</i> make this man liable to commit any crime: so, if he
+murders, <i>you</i> are a murderer; if he commits suicide, <i>your</i>
+guilty soul shall cower in the presence of Him who said, 'No self-murderer
+shall inherit eternal life.' It is your own doom you shall read in them
+dreadful words.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good landy, Samantha! do you want to scare me to death?&rdquo; and Josiah
+quailed and shook, and shook and quailed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am only tellin' you the truth, Josiah Allen; and I should think it <i>would</i>
+scare anybody to death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I don't do it, I shall appear like a fool: I shall be one by myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh, how Josiah duz want to be fashionable!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, you won't, Josiah Allen&mdash;no, you won't. If you try to do right,
+try to do God's will, you have His armies to surround you with a unseen
+wall of Strength.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, I hain't seen you look so sort o' skairful and riz up, for years,
+Samantha.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't felt so. To think of the brink you wuz a standin' on, and jest a
+fallin' off of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Josiah looked quite bad. And he put his hand on his side, and says, &ldquo;My
+heart beats as if it wuz a tryin' to get out and walk round the room. I do
+believe I have got population of the heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, in a sarcasticker tone than I had used,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a disease that is very common amongst men, very common, though
+they hain't over and above willin' to own up to it. Too much population of
+the heart has ailed many a man before now, and woman too,&rdquo; says I in
+reasonable axents. &ldquo;But you mean palpitation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I said so, didn't I? And it is jest your skairful talk that has
+done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, if I thought I could convince men as I have you, I would foller the
+business stiddy, of skairin' folks, and think I wuz doin' my duty.&rdquo; Says
+I, my emotions a roustin' up agin,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should call it a good deal more honorable in you to get drunk yourself;
+and I should think more of you, if I see you a reelin' round yourself,
+than to see you make other folks reel. I should think it was your own
+reel, and you had more right to it than to anybody else's.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! to think I should have lived to see the hour, to have my companion in
+danger of goin' aginst the Scripter&mdash;ready to steal, or be stole, or
+knock down, or any thing, to buy votes, or sell 'em!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, dumb it all, do you want me to appear as awkward as a fool? I have
+told you more than a dozen times I have <i>got</i> to do as the rest do,
+if I want to make any show at all in politics.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I said no more: but I riz right up, and walked out of the room, with my
+head right up in the air, and the strings of my head-dress a floatin' out
+behind me; and I'll bet there wus indignation in the float of them
+strings, and heart-ache, and agony, and&mdash;and every thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+I thought I had convinced him, and hadn't. I felt as if I must sink. You
+know, that is all a woman can do&mdash;to sink. She can't do any thing
+else in a helpful way when her beloved companion hangs over political
+abysses. She can't reach out her lovin' hand, and help stiddy him; she
+can't do nothin' only jest sink. And what made it more curious, these
+despairin' thoughts come to me as I stood by the sink, washin' my
+dinner-dishes. But anon (I know it wus jest anon, for the water wus
+bilein' hot when I turned it out of the kettle, and it scalded my hands,
+onbeknown to me, as I washed out my sass-plates) this thought gripped holt
+of me, right in front of the sink,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah Allen's wife, you must <i>not</i> sink. You <i>must</i> keep up.
+If you have no power to help your pardner to patriotism and honor, you
+can, if your worst fears are realized, try to keep him to home. For if his
+acts and words are like these in Jonesville, what will they be in
+Washington, D.C., if that place is all it has been depictered to you? Hold
+up, Samantha! Be firm, Josiah Allen's wife! John Rogers! The nine! One at
+the breast!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So at last, by these almost convulsive efforts at calmness, I grew more
+calmer and composeder. Josiah had hitched up and gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he come home clever, and all excited with a new thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+They are buildin' a new court-house at Jonesville. It is most done, and it
+seemed they got into a dispute that day about the cupelow. They wanted to
+have the figger of Liberty sculped out on it; and they had got the man
+there all ready, and he had begun to sculp her as a woman,&mdash;the
+goddess of Liberty, he called her. But at the last minute a dispute had
+rosen: some of the leadin' minds of Jonesville, uncle Nate Gowdey amongst
+'em, insisted on it that Liberty wuzn't a woman, he wuz a man. And they
+wanted him depictered as a man, with whiskers and pantaloons and a
+standin' collar, and boots and spurs&mdash;Josiah Allen wus the one that
+wanted the spurs.
+</p>
+<p>
+He said the dispute waxed furious; and he says to 'em,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it to Samantha: she'll know all about it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so it was agreed on that they'd leave it to me. And he drove the old
+mare home, almost beyond her strength, he wus so anxious to have it
+settled.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wus jest makin' some cream biscuit for supper as he come in, and asked
+me about it; and a minute is a minute in makin' warm biscuit. You want to
+make 'em quick, and bake 'em quick. My mind wus fairly held onto that
+dough&mdash;and needed on it; but instinctively I told him he wus in the
+right ont. Liberty here in the United States wuz a man, and, in order to
+be consistent, ort to be depictered with whiskers and overcoat and a
+standin' collar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And spurs!&rdquo; says Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; I told him, &ldquo;I wouldn't be particular about the spurs.&rdquo; I said,
+&ldquo;Instead of the spurs on his boots, he might be depictered as settin' his
+boot-heel onto the respectful petition of fifty thousand wimmen, who had
+ventured to ask him for a little mite of what he wus s'posed to have
+quantities of&mdash;Freedom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;he might be depictered as settin' on a judgment-seat, and
+wavin' off into prison an intelligent Christian woman, who had spent her
+whole noble, useful life in studyin' the laws of our nation, for darin' to
+think she had as much right under our Constitution, as a low, totally
+ignorant coot who would most likely think the franchise wus some sort of a
+meat-stew.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That will give Liberty jest as imperious and showy a look as
+spurs would, and be fur more historick and symbolical.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, he said he would mention it to 'em; and says he, with a contented
+look,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told uncle Nate I knew I wus right. I knew Liberty wus a man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, I didn't say no more: and I got him as good a supper as the house
+afforded, and kep' still as death on politics; fur I could not help havin'
+some hopes that he might get sick of the idee of public life. And I kep'
+him down close all that evenin' to religion and the weather.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/151.jpg" alt="Jonesville Courthouse" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But, alas! my hopes wus doomed to fade away. And, as days passed by, I see
+the thought of bein' a senator wus ever before him. The cares and burdens
+of political life seemed to be a loomin' up in front of him, and in a
+quiet way he seemed to be fittin' himself for the duties of his position.
+</p>
+<p>
+He come in one day with Solomon Cypher'ses shovel, and I asked him &ldquo;what
+it wuz?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;it wus the spoils of office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;It is no such thing: it is Solomon Cypher'ses shovel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I found it out by the fence. Solomon has gone over to
+the other party. I am a Democrat, and this is party spoils. I am goin' to
+keep this as one of the spoils of office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, &ldquo;You won't keep it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;if I am goin' to enter political life, I must begin to
+practise sometime. I must begin to do as they all do. And it is a crackin'
+good shovel too,&rdquo; says he pensively.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;You are goin' to carry that shovel right straight home, Josiah
+Allen!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I made him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The <i>idee</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I see in this and in many kindred things, that he wuz a dwellin' on
+this thought of political life&mdash;its honors and emollients. And often,
+and in dark hints, he would speak of his <i>Plan</i>. If every other means
+failed, if he couldn't spare the money to buy enough votes, how his <i>plan</i>
+wus goin' to be the makin' of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I overheard him tellin' the babe once, as he wus rockin' her to sleep
+in the kitchen, &ldquo;how her grandpa had got up somethin' that no other babe's
+grandpa had ever thought of, and how she would probable see him in the
+White House ere long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wus makin' nut-cakes in the buttery; and I shuddered so at these words,
+that I got in most as much agin lemon as I wanted in 'em. I wus a droppin'
+it into a spoon, and it run over, I wus that shook at the thought of his
+plan.
+</p>
+<p>
+I had known his plans in the past, and had hefted 'em. And I truly felt
+that his plans wus liable any time to be the death of him, and the
+ruination.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he wouldn't tell!
+</p>
+<p>
+But kep' his mind immovibly sot, as I could see. And the very day of the
+shovel episode, along towards night he rousted out of a brown study,&mdash;a
+sort of a dark-brown study,&mdash;and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I shall make out enough votes if we have a judicious committee.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A lyin' one, do you mean?&rdquo; says I coldly. But not surprized. For truly,
+my mind had been so strained and racked that I don't know as it would have
+surprized me if Josiah Allen had riz up, and knocked me down.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, in politics, you <i>have</i> to add a few orts sometimes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed, not a wonderin' sithe, but a despairin' one; and he went on,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know where I shall get a hull lot of votes, anyway.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, out to that nigger settlement jest the other side of Jonesville.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How do you know they'll vote for you?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd like to see 'em vote aginst me!&rdquo; says he, in a skairful way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you use intimidation, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, uncle Nate Gowdey and I, and a few others who love quiet, and love
+to see folks do as they ort to, lay out to take some shot-guns and <i>make</i>
+them niggers vote right; make 'em vote for me; shoot 'em right down if
+they don't. We have got the campaign all planned out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah Allen,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if you have no fear of Heaven, have you no fear
+of the Government? Do you want to be hung, and see your widow a breakin'
+her heart over your gallowses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! I shouldn't get hung. The Government wouldn't do nothin'. The
+Government feels jest as I do,&mdash;that it would be wrong to stir up old
+bitternesses, and race differences. The bloody shirt has been washed, and
+ironed out; and it wouldn't be right to dirty it up agin. The colored race
+is now at peace; and if they will only do right, do jest as the white men
+wants 'em to, Government won't never interfere with 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned, and couldn't help it; and he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, hang it all, Samantha, if I make any show at all in public life, I
+have got to begin to practise sometime.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;bring me in a pail of water.&rdquo; But as he went out after
+it, I murmured sternly to myself,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! wus there ever a forerunner more needed run?&rdquo; and my soul answered,
+&ldquo;Never! never!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/154.jpg" alt="Making Them Do Right" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+So with sithes that could hardly be sithed, so big and hefty wuz they, I
+commenced to make preparations for embarkin' on my tower. And no martyr
+that ever sot down on a hot gridiron wus animated by a more warm and
+martyrous feelin' of self-sacrifice. Yes, I truly felt, that if there wus
+dangers to be faced, and daggers run through pardners, I felt I would
+ruther they would pierce my own spare-ribs than Josiah's. (I say
+spare-ribs for oritory&mdash;my ribs are not spare, fur from it.)
+</p>
+<p>
+I didn't really believe, if he run, he would run clear to Washington. And
+yet, when my mind roamed on some public men, and how fur they run, I would
+groan, and hurry up my preparations.
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew my tower must be but a short one, for sugarin'-time wus approachin'
+with rapid strides, and Samantha must be at the hellum. But I also knew,
+that with a determined mind, and a willin' heart, great things could be
+accomplished speedily; so I commenced makin' preparations, and layin' on
+plans.
+</p>
+<p>
+As become a woman of my cast-iron principles, I fixed up mostly on the
+inside of my head instead of the outside. I studied the map of the United
+States. I done several sums on the slate, to harden my mind, and help me
+grasp great facts, and meet difficulties bravely. I read Gass'es
+&ldquo;Journal,&rdquo;&mdash;how he rode up our great rivers on a perioger, and shot
+bears. Expectin', as I did, to see trouble, I read over agin that book
+that has been my stay in so many hard-fit battle-fields of principle,&mdash;Fox'es
+&ldquo;Book of Martyrs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I studied G. Washington's picture on the parlor-wall, to get kinder
+stirred up in my mind about him, so's to realize to the full my privileges
+as I wept onto his tomb, and stood in the capital he had foundered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Thomas J. come one day while I wus musin' on George; and he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are you lookin' so close at that dear old humbug for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, and keepin' the same posture, &ldquo;I am studyin' the face of
+the revered and noble G. Washington. I am going shortly to weep on his
+tomb and the capital he foundered. I am studyin' his face, and Gass'es
+'Journal,' and other works,&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you are going to the capital, you had better study Dante.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Danty who?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;Just plain Dante.&rdquo; Says he, &ldquo;You had better study his
+inscription on the door of the infern&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Cease instantly. You are on the very pint of swearin';&rdquo; and I
+don't know now what he meant, and don't much care. Thomas J. is full of
+queer remarks, anyway. But deep. He had a sick spell a few weeks ago; and
+I went to see him the first thing in the mornin', after I heard of it. He
+had overworked, the doctor said, and his heart wuz a little weak. He
+looked real white; and I took holt of his hand, and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thomas J., I am worried about you: your pulse don't beat hardly any.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says he. And he laughed with his eyes and his lips too. &ldquo;I am glad I
+am not a newspaper this morning, mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;If I were a morning paper, mother, I shouldn't be a success,
+my circulation is so weak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A jokin' right there, when he couldn't lift his head. But he got over it:
+he always did have them sort of sick spells, from a little child.
+</p>
+<p>
+But a manlier, good-hearteder, level-headeder boy never lived than Thomas
+Jefferson Allen. He is <i>just right</i>, and always wuz. And though I
+wouldn't have it get out for the world, I can't help seein' it, that he
+goes fur ahead of Tirzah Ann in intellect, and nobleness of nater; and
+though I love 'em both devotedly, I <i>do</i>, and I can't help it, like
+him jest a little mite the best. But <i>this</i> I wouldn't have get out
+for a thousand dollars. I tell it in strict confidence, and s'pose it will
+be kep' as such. Mebby I hadn't ort to tell it at all. Mebby it hain't
+quite orthodox in me to feel so. But it is truthful, anyway. And sometimes
+I get to kinder wobblin' round inside of my mind, and a wonderin' which is
+the best,&mdash;to be orthodox, or truthful,&mdash;and I sort o' settle
+down to thinkin' I will tell the truth anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah, I think, likes Tirzah Ann the best.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I studied deep, and mused. Mused on our 4 fathers, and our 4 mothers,
+and on Liberty, and Independence, and Truth, and the Eagle. And thinkin' I
+might jest as well be to work while I was a musin', I had a dress made for
+the occasion. It wus bran new, and the color wus Bismark Brown.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah wanted me to have Ashes of Moses color.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I said no. With my mind in the heroic state it was then, I couldn't
+curb it down onto Ashes of Moses, or roses, or any thing else peacible. I
+felt that this color, remindin' me of two grand heroes,&mdash;Bismark,
+John Brown,&mdash;suited me to a T. There wus two wimmen who stood ready
+to make it,&mdash;Jane Bently and Martha Snyder. I chose Martha because
+Martha wus the name of the wife of Washington.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus made with a bask.
+</p>
+<p>
+When the news got out that I wus goin' to Washington on a tower, the
+neighbors all wanted to send errents by me.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betsey Bobbet wanted me to go to the Patent Office, and get her two
+Patent-office books, for scrap-books for poetry.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Jarvis Bently wanted me to go to the Agricultural Bureau, and get
+him a paper of lettis seed. And Solomon Cypher wanted me to get him a new
+kind of string-beans, if I could, and some cowcumber seeds.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Nate Gowdey, who talked of paintin' his house over, wanted me to ask
+the President what kind of paint he used on the White House, and if he put
+in any sperits of turpentime. And Ardelia Rumsey, who wuz goin' to be
+married soon, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bed-quilt patterns to
+the White House, or to the senators' housen, to get the patterns for her.
+She said she wus sick of sunflowers, and blazin' stars, and such. She
+thought mebby they'd have suthin' new, spread-eagle style, or suthin' of
+that kind. She said &ldquo;her feller was goin' to be connected with the
+Government, and she thought it would be appropriate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I asked her &ldquo;how?&rdquo; And she said, &ldquo;he was goin' to get a patent on a
+new kind of a jack-knife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I told her &ldquo;if she wanted a Government quilt, and wanted it appropriate,
+she ort to have it a crazy-quilt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she said she had jest finished a crazy-quilt, with seven thousand
+pieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitches
+of feather stitchin': she counted 'em. And then I remembered seein' it.
+There wus some talk then about wimmen's rights, and a petition wus got up
+in Jonesville for wimmen to sign; and I remember well that Ardelia
+couldn't sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn't got the
+quilt more'n half done then. It took the biggest heft of two years to do
+it. And so, of course, less important things had to be put aside till she
+got it finished.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I remember, too, that Ardelia's mother wanted to sign it; but she
+couldn't, owin' to a bed-spread she wus a makin'. She wuz a quiltin' in
+Noah's ark, and all the animals, at that time, on a Turkey-red quilt. I
+remember she wuz a quiltin' the camel that day, and couldn't be disturbed.
+So we didn't get the names. It took the old lady three years to quilt that
+quilt. And when it wuz done, it wuz a sight to behold. Though, as I said
+then, and say now, I wouldn't give much to sleep under so many animals.
+But folks went from fur and near to see it, and I enjoyed lookin' at it
+that day. And I see jest how it wuz. I see that she couldn't sign. It
+wuzn't to be expected that a woman could stop to tend to Justice or
+Freedom, or any thing else of that kind, right in the midst of a camel.
+</p>
+<p>
+Zebulin Coon wanted me to carry a new hen-coop of hisen to get it
+patented. And I thought to myself, I wonder if they'll ask me to carry a
+cow.
+</p>
+<p>
+And sure enough, Josiah wanted me to dicker, if I could, for a calf from
+Mount Vernon,&mdash;swop one of our yearlin's for it if I couldn't do no
+better.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I told him right out and out, that I couldn't go into a calf-trade
+with my mind wrought up as I knew it would be.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, it wuzn't more'n 2 or 3 days after I begun my preparations, that
+Dorlesky Burpy, a vegetable widow, come to see me; and the errents she
+sent by me wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest put
+together, calves, hen-coop, and all.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/160.jpg" alt="The Mother's Bed-quilt" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And when she told 'em over to me, and I meditated on her reasons for
+sendin' 'em, and her need of havin' 'em done, I felt that I would do the
+errents for her if a breath was left in my body. I felt that I would bear
+them 2 errents of hern on my tower side by side with my own private, hefty
+mission for Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+She come for a all day's visit; and though she is a vegetable widow, and
+very humbly, I wuz middlin' glad to see her. But thinks'es I to myself as
+I carried away her things into the bedroom, &ldquo;She'll want to send some
+errent by me;&rdquo; and I wondered what it wouldn't be.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so it didn't surprise me any when she asked me the first thing when I
+got back &ldquo;if I would lobby a little for her in Washington.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I looked agreeable to the idee; for I s'posed it wuz some new kind of
+tattin', mebby, or fancy work. And I told her &ldquo;I shouldn't have much time,
+but I would try to buy her some if I could.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she said &ldquo;she wanted me to lobby, myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I thought mebby it wus some new kind of waltz; and I told her &ldquo;I
+was too old to lobby, I hadn't lobbied a step since I was married.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then she said &ldquo;she wanted me to canvass some of the senators.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I hung back, and asked her in a cautius tone &ldquo;how many she wanted
+canvassed, and how much canvass it would take?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I knew I had a good many things to buy for my tower; and, though I wanted
+to obleege Dorlesky, I didn't feel like runnin' into any great expense for
+canvass.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then she broke off from that subject, and said &ldquo;she wanted her rights,
+and wanted the Whiskey Ring broke up.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then she says, going back to the old subject agin, &ldquo;I hear that Josiah
+Allen has political hopes: can I canvass him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Yes, you can for all me.&rdquo; But I mentioned cautiously, for I
+believe in bein' straightforward, and not holdin' out no false hopes,&mdash;I
+said &ldquo;she must furnish her own canvass, for I hadn't a mite in the house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But Josiah didn't get home till after her folks come after her. So he
+wuzn't canvassed.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to be
+parted from 'em, and how much she used to think of her husband, and how
+her hull life wus ruined, and how the Whiskey Ring had done it,&mdash;that,
+and wimmen's helpless condition under the law. And she cried, and wept,
+and cried about her children, and her sufferin's she had suffered; and I
+did. I cried onto my apron, and couldn't help it. A new apron too. And
+right while I wus cryin' onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to
+carry them two errents of hern to the President, and to get 'em done for
+her if I possibly could.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed, and she wanted her rights; and she
+wanted 'em both in less than 2 weeks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wiped my eyes off, and told her I didn't believe she could get 'em done
+in that length of time, but I would tell the President about it, and &ldquo;I
+thought more'n as likely as not he would want to do right by her.&rdquo; And
+says I, &ldquo;If he sets out to, he can haul them babys of yourn out of that
+Ring pretty sudden.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then, to kinder get her mind off of her sufferin's, I asked her how
+her sister Susan wus a gettin' along. I hadn't heard from her for years&mdash;she
+married Philemon Clapsaddle; and Dorlesky spoke out as bitter as a bitter
+walnut&mdash;a green one. And says she,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is in the poorhouse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, Dorlesky Burpy!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean what I say. My sister, Susan Clapsaddle, is in the poorhouse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, where is their property all gone?&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;They was well off&mdash;Susan
+had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;And I can tell you, Josiah Allen's wife, where
+their property is gone. It has gone down Philemon Clapsaddle's throat.
+Look down that man's throat, and you will see 150 acres of land, a good
+house and barns, 20 sheep, and 40 head of cattle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why-ee!&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, you will see 'em all down that man's throat.&rdquo; And says she, in still
+more bitter axents, &ldquo;You will see four mules, and a span of horses, two
+buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo-robes. He has drinked 'em all
+up&mdash;and 2 horse-rakes, a cultivator, and a thrashin'-machine.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why! Why-ee!&rdquo; says I agin. &ldquo;And where are the children?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The boys have inherited their father's evil habits, and drink as bad as
+he duz; and the oldest girl has gone to the bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, dear! oh, dear me!&rdquo; says I. And we both sot silent for a spell. And
+then, thinkin' I must say sunthin', and wantin' to strike a safe subject,
+and a good-lookin' one, I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is your aunt Eunice'es girl? that pretty girl I see to your house
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That girl is in the lunatick asylum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorlesky Burpy!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Be you a tellin' the truth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I be, the livin' truth. She went to New York to buy millinary goods
+for her mother's store. It wus quite cool when she left home, and she
+hadn't took off her winter clothes: and it come on brilin' hot in the
+city; and in goin' about from store to store, the heat and the hard work
+overcome her, and she fell down in the street in a sort of a faintin'-fit,
+and was called drunk, and dragged off to a police court by a man who wus a
+animal in human shape. And he misused her in such a way, that she never
+got over the horror of what befell her&mdash;when she come to, to find
+herself at the mercy of a brute in a man's shape. She went into a
+melancholy madness, and wus sent to the asylum. Of course they couldn't
+have wimmen in such places to take care of wimmen,&rdquo; says she bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+I sithed a long and mournful sithe, and sot silent agin for quite a spell.
+But thinkin' I <i>must</i> be sociable, I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your aunt Eunice is well, I s'pose?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a moulderin' in jail,&rdquo; says she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In jail? Eunice Keeler in jail?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, in jail.&rdquo; And Dorlesky's tone wus now like wormwood, wormwood and
+gall.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know, she owns a big property in tenement-houses, and other
+buildings, where she lives. Of course her taxes wus awful high; and she
+didn't expect to have any voice in tellin' how that money, a part of her
+own property, that she earned herself in a store, should be used.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/165.jpg" alt="Man Lifting up Eunice" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But she had jest been taxed high for new sidewalks in front of some of
+her buildin's.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then another man come into power in that ward, and he natrully wanted
+to make some money out of her; and he had a spite aginst her, too, so he
+ordered her to build new sidewalks. And she wouldn't tear up a good
+sidewalk to please him or anybody else, so she was put to jail for
+refusin' to comply with the law.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Thinks'es I to myself, I don't believe the law would have been so hard on
+her if she hadn't been so humbly. The Burpys are a humbly lot. But I
+didn't think it out loud. And I didn't uphold the law for feelin' so, if
+it did. No: I says in pityin' tones,&mdash;for I wus truly sorry for
+Eunice Keeler,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did it end?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It hain't ended,&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;It only took place a month ago; and she has
+got her grit up, and won't pay: and no knowin' how it will end. She lays
+there a moulderin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I myself don't believe Eunice wus &ldquo;mouldy;&rdquo; but that is Dorlesky's way of
+talkin',&mdash;very flowery.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/166.jpg" alt="Eunice in Jail" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;do you think the weather is goin' to moderate?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I truly felt that I dassent speak to her about any human bein' under the
+sun, not knowin' what turn she would give to the conversation, bein' so
+embittered. But I felt the weather wus safe, and cotton stockin's, and
+factory-cloth; and I kep' her down onto them subjects for more'n two
+hours.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, good land! I can't blame her for bein' embittered aginst men and the
+laws they have made; for, if ever a woman has been tormented, she has.
+</p>
+<p>
+It honestly seems to me as if I never see a human creeter so afflicted as
+Dorlesky Burpy has been, all her life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, her sufferin's date back before she wus born; and that is goin'
+pretty fur back. You see, her father and mother had had some difficulty:
+and he wus took down with billious colic voyolent four weeks before
+Dorlesky wus born; and some think it wus the hardness between 'em, and
+some think it wus the gripin' of the colic at the time he made his will;
+anyway, he willed Dorlesky away, boy or girl, whichever it wuz, to his
+brother up on the Canada line.
+</p>
+<p>
+So, when Dorlesky wus born (and born a girl, entirely onbeknown to her),
+she wus took right away from her mother, and gin to this brother. Her
+mother couldn't help herself: he had the law on his side. But it jest
+killed her. She drooped right away and died, before the baby wus a year
+old. She was a affectionate, tenderhearted woman; and her husband wus
+kinder overbearin', and stern always.
+</p>
+<p>
+But it wus this last move of hisen that killed her; for I tell you, it is
+pretty tough on a mother to have her baby, a part of her own life, took
+right out of her arms, and gin to a stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+For this uncle of hern wus a entire stranger to Dorlesky when the will wus
+made. And almost like a stranger to her father, for he hadn't seen him
+sence he wus a boy; but he knew he hadn't any children, and s'posed he wus
+rich and respectable. But the truth wuz, he had been a runnin' down every
+way,&mdash;had lost his property and his character, wus dissipated and
+mean (onbeknown, it wus s'posed, to Dorlesky's father). But the will was
+made, and the law stood. Men are ashamed now, to think the law wus ever in
+voge; but it wuz, and is now in some of the States. The law wus in voge,
+and the poor young mother couldn't help herself. It has always been the
+boast of our American law, that it takes care of wimmen. It took care of
+her. It held her in its strong, protectin' grasp, and held her so tight,
+that the only way she could slip out of it wus to drop into the grave,
+which she did in a few months. Then it leggo.
+</p>
+<p>
+But it kep' holt of Dorlesky: it bound her tight to her uncle, while he
+run through with what little property she had; while he sunk lower and
+lower, until at last he needed the very necessaries of life; and then he
+bound her out to work, to a woman who kep' a drinkin'-den, and the lowest,
+most degraded hant of vice.
+</p>
+<p>
+Twice Dorlesky run away, bein' virtuous but humbly; but them strong,
+protectin' arms of the law that had held her mother so tight, jest reached
+out, and dragged her back agin. Upheld by them, her uncle could compel her
+to give her service wherever he wanted her to work; and he wus owin' this
+woman, and she wanted Dorlesky's work, so she had to submit.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the 3d time, she made a effort so voyalent that she got away. A good
+woman, who, bein' nothin' but a woman, couldn't do any thing towards
+onclinchin' them powerful arms that wuz protectin' her, helped her to slip
+through 'em. And Dorlesky come to Jonesville to live with a sister of that
+good woman; changed her name, so's it wouldn't be so easy to find her;
+grew up to be a nice, industrious girl. And when the woman she was took
+by, died, she left Dorlesky quite a handsome property.
+</p>
+<p>
+And finally she married Lank Rumsey, and did considerable well, it was
+s'posed. Her property, put with what little he had, made 'em a comfortable
+home; and they had two pretty little children,&mdash;a boy and a girl. But
+when the little girl was a baby, he took to drinkin', neglected his
+business, got mixed up with a whisky-ring, whipped Dorlesky&mdash;not so
+very hard. He went accordin' to law; and the law of the United States
+don't approve of a man whippin' his wife enough to endanger her life&mdash;it
+says it don't. He made every move of hisen lawful, and felt that Dorlesky
+hadn't ort to complain and feel hurt. But a good whippin' will make
+anybody feel hurt, law or no law. And then he parted with her, and got her
+property and her two little children. Why, it seemed as if every thing
+under the sun and moon, that <i>could</i> happen to a woman, had happened
+to Dorlesky, painful things, and gaulin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Jest before Lank parted with her, she fell on a broken sidewalk: some
+think he tripped her up, but it never was proved. But, anyway, Dorlesky
+fell, and broke her hip bone; and her husband sued the corporation, and
+got ten thousand dollars for it. Of course, the law give the money to him,
+and she never got a cent of it. But she wouldn't never have made any fuss
+over that, knowin' that the law of the United States was such. But what
+made it gaulin' to her wuz, that, while she was layin' there achin' in
+splints, he took that very money and used it to court up another woman
+with. Gin her presents, jewellry, bunnets, head-dresses, artificial
+flowers, and etcetery, out of Dorlesky's own hip-money.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/170.jpg" alt="Dorlesky's Trials" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And I don't know as any thing could be much more gaulin' to a woman than
+that wuz,&mdash;while she lay there, groanin' in splints, to have her
+husband take the money for her own broken bones, and dress up another
+woman like a doll with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the law gin it to him; and he was only availin' himself of the
+glorious liberty of our free republic, and doin' as he was a mind to.
+</p>
+<p>
+And it was s'posed that that very hip-money was what made the match. For,
+before she wus fairly out of splints, he got a divorce from her. And by
+the help of that money, and the Whisky Ring, he got her two little
+children away from her.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I wonder if there is a mother in the land, that can blame Dorlesky for
+gettin' mad, and wantin' her rights, and wantin' the Whisky Ring broke up,
+when they think it over,&mdash;how she has been fooled round with by men,
+willed away, and whipped and parted with and stole from. Why, they can't
+blame her for feelin' fairly savage about 'em&mdash;and she duz. For as
+she says to me once when we wus a talkin' it over, how every thing had
+happened to her that could happen to a woman, and how curious it wuz,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says she, with a axent like boneset and vinegar,&mdash;&ldquo;and what
+few things there are that hain't happened to me, has happened to my
+folks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And, sure enough, I couldn't dispute her. Trouble and wrongs and
+sufferin's seemed to be epidemic in the race of Burpy wimmen. Why, one of
+her aunts on her father's side, Patty Burpy, married for her first husband
+Eliphalet Perkins. He was a minister, rode on a circuit. And he took Patty
+on it too; and she rode round with him on it, a good deal of the time. But
+she never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still, and be kinder
+settled down at home.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him: so
+she rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly fagged
+out.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they had
+hard times to get along. But what property they had wuzn't taxed, so that
+helped some; and Patty would make one doller go a good ways.
+</p>
+<p>
+No, their property wasn't taxed till Eliphalet died. Then the supervisor
+taxed it the very minute the breath left his body; run his horse, so it
+was said, so's to be sure to get it onto the tax-list, and comply with the
+law.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, Eliphalet's salary stopped when his breath did. And I s'pose
+mebby the law thought, seem' she was a havin' trouble, she might jest as
+well have a little more; so it taxed all the property it never had taxed a
+cent for before.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she had this to console her anyway,&mdash;that the law didn't forget
+her in her widowhood. No: the law is quite thoughtful of wimmen, by
+spells. It says, the law duz, that it protects wimmen. And I s'pose in
+some mysterious way, too deep for wimmen to understand, it was protectin'
+her now.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she suffered along, and finally married agin. I wondered why she
+did. But she was such a quiet, home-lovin' woman, that it was s'posed she
+wanted to settle down, and be kinder still and sot. But of all the bad
+luck she had! She married on short acquaintance, and he proved to be a
+perfect wanderer. Why, he couldn't keep still. It was s'posed to be a
+mark.
+</p>
+<p>
+He moved Patty thirteen times in two years; and at last he took her into a
+cart,&mdash;a sort of a covered wagon,&mdash;and travelled right through
+the Eastern States with her. He wanted to see the country, and loved to
+live in the wagon: it was his make. And, of course, the law give him the
+control of her body; and she had to go where he moved it, or else part
+with him. And I s'pose the law thought it was guardin' and nourishin' her
+when it was a joltin' her over them praries and mountains and abysses. But
+it jest kep' her shook up the hull of the time.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus the regular Burpy luck.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/173.jpg"
+ alt="Patty and Husband Travelling in the Far West" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And then, another one of her aunts, Drusilla Burpy, she married a
+industrius, hard-workin' man,&mdash;one that never drinked a drop, and was
+sound on the doctrines, and give good measure to his customers: he was a
+grocer-man. And a master hand for wantin' to foller the laws of his
+country, as tight as laws could be follered. And so, knowin' that the law
+approved of &ldquo;moderate correction&rdquo; for wimmen, and that &ldquo;a man might whip
+his wife, but not enough to endanger her life,&rdquo; he bein' such a master
+hand for wantin' to do every thing faithful, and do his very best for his
+customers, it was s'posed that he wanted to do his best for the law; and
+so, when he got to whippin' Drusilla, he would whip her <i>too</i> severe&mdash;he
+would be <i>too</i> faithful to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, the way ont was, what made him whip her at all wuz, she was cross
+to him. They had nine little children. She always thought that two or
+three children would be about all one woman could bring up well &ldquo;by hand,&rdquo;
+ when that one hand wuz so awful full of work, as will be told more
+ensuin'ly. But he felt that big families wuz a protection to the
+Government; and &ldquo;he wanted fourteen boys,&rdquo; he said, so they could all
+foller their father's footsteps, and be noble, law-making, law-abiding
+citizens, jest as he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she had to do every mite of the housework, and milk cows, and make
+butter and cheese, and cook and wash and scour, and take all the care of
+the children, day and night, in sickness and in health, and spin and weave
+the cloth for their clothes (as wimmen did in them days), and then make
+'em, and keep 'em clean. And when there wuz so many of 'em, and only about
+a year's difference in their ages, some of 'em&mdash;why, I s'pose she
+sometimes thought more of her own achin' back than she did of the good of
+the Government; and she would get kinder discouraged sometimes, and be
+cross to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And knowin' his own motives was so high and loyal, he felt that he ought
+to whip her. So he did.
+</p>
+<p>
+And what shows that Drusilla wuzn't so bad as he s'posed she wuz, what
+shows that she did have her good streaks, and a deep reverence for the
+law, is, that she stood his whippin's first-rate, and never whipped him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, she wuz fur bigger than he wuz, weighed 80 pounds the most, and might
+have whipped him if the law had been such.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/175.jpg" alt="Beating his Wife" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But they was both law-abidin', and wanted to keep every preamble; so she
+stood it to be whipped, and never once whipped him in all the seventeen
+years they lived together.
+</p>
+<p>
+She died when her twelfth child was born: there wus jest 13 months
+difference in the age of that and the one next older. And they said she
+often spoke out in her last sickness, and said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank fortune, I have always kept the law.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And they said the same thought wus a great comfort to him in his last
+moments.
+</p>
+<p>
+He died about a year after she did, leaving his 2nd wife with twins and a
+good property.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then, there was Abagail Burpy. She married a sort of a high-headed man,
+though one that paid his debts, and was truthful, and considerable
+good-lookin', and played well on the fiddle. Why, it seemed as if he had
+almost every qualification for makin' a woman happy, only he had jest this
+one little excentricity,&mdash;that man would lock up Abagail Burpy's
+clothes every time he got mad at her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course the law give her clothes to him; and knowin' it was one of the
+laws of the United States, she wouldn't have complained only when she had
+company. But it was mortifyin', and nobody could dispute it, to have
+company come, and nothin' to put on.
+</p>
+<p>
+Several times she had to withdraw into the wood-house, and stay most of
+the day, shiverin', and under the cellar-stairs, and round in
+clothes-presses.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he boasted in prayer-meetin's, and on boxes before grocery-stores,
+that he wus a law-abidin' citizen; and he wuz. Eben Flanders wouldn't lie
+for anybody.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I'll bet that Abagail Flanders beat our old Revolutionary 4 mothers in
+thinkin' out new laws, when she lay round under stairs, and behind
+barrells, in her nightdress.
+</p>
+<p>
+You see, when a man hides his wive's corset and petticoat, it is governin'
+without the &ldquo;consent of the governed.&rdquo; And if you don't believe it, you
+ort to have peeked round them barrells, and seen Abagail's eyes. Why, they
+had hull reams of by-laws in 'em, and preambles, and &ldquo;declarations of
+independence.&rdquo; So I have been told.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, it beat every thing I ever heard on, the lawful sufferin's of them
+wimmen. For there wuzn't nothin' illegal about one single trouble of
+theirn. They suffered accordin' to law, every one of 'em. But it wus tuff
+for 'em&mdash;very tuff.
+</p>
+<p>
+And their all bein' so dretful humbly wuz and is another drawback to 'em;
+though that, too, is perfectly lawful, as everybody knows.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Dorlesky looks as bad agin as she would otherways, on account of her
+teeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus after Lank had begun to kinder get after this other woman, and wus
+indifferent to his wive's looks, that Dorlesky had a new set of teeth on
+her upper jaw. And they sort o' sot out, and made her look so bad that it
+fairly made her ache to look at herself in the glass. And they hurt her
+gooms too. And she carried 'em back to the dentist, and wanted him to make
+her another set.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the dentist acted mean, and wouldn't take 'em back, and sued Lank for
+the pay. And they had a lawsuit. And the law bein' such that a woman can't
+testify in court in any matter that is of mutual interest to husband and
+wife&mdash;and Lank wantin' to act mean, too, testified that &ldquo;they wus
+good sound teeth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And there Dorlesky sot right in front of 'em with her gooms achin', and
+her face all pokin' out, and lookin' like furyation, and couldn't say a
+word. But she had to give in to the law.
+</p>
+<p>
+And ruther than go toothless, she wears 'em to this day. And I do believe
+it is the raspin' of them teeth aginst her gooms, and her discouraged and
+mad feelin's every time she looks in a glass, that helps to embitter her
+towards men, and the laws men have made, so's a woman can't have the
+control over her own teeth and her own bones.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, Dorlesky went home about 4 P.M., I a promisin' at the last minute as
+sacred as I could, without usin' a book, to do her errents for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+I urged her to stay to supper, but she couldn't; for she said the man
+where she worked was usin' his horses, and couldn't come after her agin.
+And she said that&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mercy on her! how could anybody eat any more supper after such a dinner
+as I had got?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And it wuzn't nothin' extra, I didn't think. No better than my common run
+of dinners.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she hadn't been gone over an hour (she a hollerin' from the wagon, a
+chargin' on me solemn, about the errents,&mdash;the man she works for is
+deef, deef as a post,&mdash;and I a noddin' to her firm, honorable nods,
+that I would do 'em), and I wus a slickin' up the settin'-room, and
+Martha, who had jest come in, wus measurin' off my skirt-breadths, when
+Josiah Allen drove up, and Cicely and the boy with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And there I had been a layin' out to write to her that very night to tell
+her I wus goin' away, and to be sure and come jest as quick as I got back!
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I never see the time I wuzn't glad to see Cicely, and I felt that
+she could visit to Tirzah Ann's and Thomas J.'s while I wus gone. She
+looked dretful pale and sad, I thought; but she seemed glad to see me, and
+glad to get back. And the boy asked Josiah and Ury and me 47 questions
+between the wagon and the front doorstep, for I counted 'em. He wus well.
+</p>
+<p>
+I broached the subject of my tower to Cicely when she and I wus all alone
+in her room. And, if you'll believe it, she all rousted up with the idee
+of wantin' to go too.
+</p>
+<p>
+She says, &ldquo;You know, aunt Samantha, just how I have prayed and labored for
+my boy's future; how I have made all the efforts that it is possible for a
+woman to make; how I have thrown my heart and life into the work,&mdash;but
+I have done no good. That letter,&rdquo; says she, takin' one out of her pocket,
+and throwin' it into my lap,&mdash;&ldquo;that letter tells me just what I knew
+so well before,&mdash;just how weak a woman is; that they have no power,
+only the power to suffer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It wus from that old executor, refusin' to comply with some request she
+had made about her own property,&mdash;a request of right and truth.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how glad I would have been to had him execkuted that very minute! Why,
+I'd done it myself if wimmen could execkit&mdash;but they can't.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says she, &ldquo;I'll go with you to Washington,&mdash;I and the boy. Perhaps I
+can do something for him there.&rdquo; But when she mentioned the boy, I
+demurred in my own mind, and kep' a demurrin'. Thinks'es I, how can I
+stand it, as tired as I expect to be, to have him a askin' questions all
+the hull time? She see I was a demurrin'; and her pretty face grew sadder
+than it had, and overcasteder.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as I see that, I gin in at once, and says with a cheerful face, but a
+forebodin' mind,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, Cicely, we three will embark together on our tower.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, after supper Cicely and I sot down under the front stoop,&mdash;it
+was a warm evenin',&mdash;and we talked some about other wimmen. Not
+runnin' talk, or gossipin' talk, but jest plain talk, about her aunt Mary,
+and her aunt Melissa, and her aunt Mary's daughter, who wus a runnin'
+down, runnin' faster than ever, so I judged from what she said. And how
+Susan Ann Grimshaw that was, had a young babe. She said her aunt Mary was
+better now, so she had started for the Michigan; but she had had a dretful
+sick spell while she was there.
+</p>
+<p>
+While she wuz a tellin' me this, Cicely sot on one of the steps of the
+stoop: I sot up under it in my rockin'-chair. And she looked dretful good
+to me. She had on a white dress. She most always wears white in the house,
+when we hain't got company; and always wears black when she is dressed up,
+and when she goes out.
+</p>
+<p>
+This dress was made of white mull. The yoke wus made all of thin
+embroidery, and her white neck and shoulders shone through it like snow.
+Her sleeves was all trimmed with lace, and fell back from her pretty white
+arms. Her hands wus clasped over her knees; and her hair, which the boy
+had got loose a playin' with her, wus fallin' round her face and neck. And
+her great, earnest eyes wus lookin' into the West, and the light from the
+sunset fallin' through the mornin'-glorys wus a fallin' over her, till I
+declare, I never see any thing look so pretty in my hull life. And there
+was some thin' more, fur more than prettiness in her face, in her big
+eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wuzn't unhappiness, and it wuzn't happiness, and I don't know as I can
+tell what it wuz. It seemed as if she wuz a lookin' fur, fur away, further
+than Jonesville, further than the lake that lay beyend Jonesville, and
+which was pure gold now,&mdash;a sea of glass mingled with fire,&mdash;further
+than the cloudy masses in the western heavens, which looked like a city of
+shinin' mansions, fur off; but her eyes was lookin' away off, beyend them.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I kep' still, and didn't feel like talkin' about other wimmen.
+</p>
+<p>
+Finally she spoke out. &ldquo;Aunt Samantha, what do you suppose I thought when
+dear aunt Mary was so ill when I was there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;I don't know, dear: what did you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I thought, that, though I loved her so dearly, I almost wished she
+would die while I was there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, Cicely!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Why-ee! what did you wish that for? and thinkin'
+so much of your aunt as you do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/182.jpg" alt="Looking Beyend the Sunset" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, you know how mother and aunt Mary loved each other, how near they
+were to each other. Why, mother could always tell when aunt Mary was ill
+or in trouble, and she was just the same in regard to mother. And I can't
+think that when death has freed the soul from the flesh, that they will
+have less spiritual knowledge of each other than when they were here; and
+I felt, that with such a love as theirs, death would only make their souls
+nearer: and you know what the Bible says,&mdash;that 'God shall make of
+his angels ministering spirits;' and I <i>know</i> He would send no other
+angel but my mother, to dear aunt Mary's bedside, to take her spirit home.
+And I thought, that, if I were there, my mother would be there right in
+the room with me; and I didn't know but I might <i>feel</i> her presence
+if I could not see her. And I <i>do</i> want my mother so sometimes, aunt
+Samantha,&rdquo; says she with the tears comin' into them soft brown eyes. &ldquo;It
+seems as if she would tell me what to do for the boy&mdash;she always knew
+what was right and best to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I to myself, &ldquo;For the land's sake, what won't Cicely think on next?&rdquo;
+ But I didn't say a word, mind you, not a single word would I say to hurt
+that child's feelin's&mdash;not for a silver dollar, I wouldn't.
+</p>
+<p>
+I only says, in calm accents,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't for mercy's sake, child, talk of seein' your mother now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She looked far off into the shinin' western heavens with that deep,
+searchin', but soft gaze,&mdash;seemin' to look clear through them cloudy
+mansions of rose and pearl,&mdash;and says she,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I were good enough, I think I could.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Cicely, you are goin' to take cold, with nothin' round your
+shoulders.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;The weather is very ketchin', and it looks to me as
+if we wus goin' to have quite a spell of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 75 questions about ketchin' the
+weather.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the weather set a trap? If it ketched with bait, or with a hook, and
+what it ketched? and how? and who?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh my stars! what a time I did have!
+</p>
+<p>
+The next mornin' after this Cicely wuzn't well enough to get up. I carried
+up her breakfast with my own hands,&mdash;a good one, though I am fur from
+bein' the one that ort to say it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And after breakfast, along in the forenoon, Martha, who was makin' my
+dress, felt troubled in mind as to whether she had better cut the polenay
+kitrin' ways of the cloth, or not: and Miss Gowdey had jest had one made
+in the height of the fashion, to Jonesville; and so to ease Martha's mind
+(she is one that gets deprested easy, when weighty subjects are pressin'
+her down), I said I would run over cross-lots, and carry home a drawin' of
+tea I had borrowed, and look at the polenay, and bring back tidin's from
+it. And I wus goin' there acrost the orchard, when I see the boy a layin'
+on his back under a apple-tree, lookin' up into the sky; and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What be you doin' here, Paul?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He never got up, nor moved a mite. That is one of the peculiarities of the
+boy, you can't surprise him: nothin' seems to startle him.
+</p>
+<p>
+He lay still, and spoke out for all the world as if I had been there with
+him all day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am lookin' to see if I can see it. I thought I got a glimpse of it a
+minute ago, but it wus only a white cloud.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lookin' for what?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gate of that City that comes down out of the heavens. You know, uncle
+Josiah read about it this morning, out of that big book he prays out of
+after breakfast. He said the gate was one pearl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I asked mamma what a pearl was, and she said it was just like that
+ring she wears that papa gave her. And I asked her where the City was, and
+she said it was up in the heavens. And I asked her if I should ever see
+it; and she said, if I was good, it would swing down out of the sky,
+sometime, and that shining gate would open, and I should walk through it
+into the City.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/185.jpg" alt="Looking for the City" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I went right to being good, that minute; and I have been good for as
+many as three hours, I should think. And <i>say</i>, how long have you got
+to be good before you can go through? And <i>say</i>, can you see it
+before you go through? And SAY&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I had got most out of hearin' then.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And <i>say</i>&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+I heard his last &ldquo;say&rdquo; just as I got out of hearin' of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+He acted kinder disappointed at dinner-time, and said &ldquo;he wus tired of
+watchin', and tired out of bein' good;&rdquo; and he wus considerable cross all
+that afternoon. But he got clever agin before bedtime. And he come and
+leaned up aginst my lap at sundown, and asked me, I guess, about 200
+questions about the City.
+</p>
+<p>
+And his eyes looked big and dreamy and soft, and his cheeks looked rosy,
+and his mouth awful good and sweet. And his curls wus kinder moist, and
+hung down over his white forehead. I <i>did</i> love him, and couldn't
+help it, chin or no chin.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had been still for quite a spell, a thinkin'; and at last he broke out,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, auntie, shall I see my father there in the City?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I didn't know what to tell him; for you know what it says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Without</i> are murderers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/187.jpg" alt="Asking About the City" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But then, agin, I thought, what will become of the respectable church
+members who sell the fire that flames up in a man's soul, and ruins his
+life? What will become of them who lend their votes and their influence to
+make it right? They vote on Saturdays, to make the sale of this poison
+legal, and on Sundays go to church with their respectable families. And
+they expect to go right to heaven, of course; for they have improved all
+the means of grace. Hired costly pews, and give big charities&mdash;in
+money obtained by sellin' robberies, murders, broken hearts, ruined lives.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the boy wanted an answer; and his eyes looked questioning but soft.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, auntie, do you think we'll find him there, mamma and I? You know,
+that is what mamma cries so for,&mdash;she wants him so bad. And do you
+think he will stand just inside the gate, waiting for us? <i>Say!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But agin I thought of what it said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No drunkard shall inherit eternal life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And agin I didn't know what to say, and I hurried him off to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, after he had gone, I spoke out entirely unbeknown to myself, and
+says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't see through it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can't see through what?&rdquo; says Josiah, who wus jest a comin' in.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't see through it, why drunkards and murderers are punished, and
+them that make 'em drink and murder go free. I can't see through it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I don't see how you can see through any thing here&mdash;dark as
+pitch.&rdquo; Here he fell over a stool, which made him madder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Folks make fools of themselves, a follerin' up that subject.&rdquo; Here he
+stubbed his foot aginst the rockin'-chair, and most fell, and snapped out
+enough to take my head off,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The dumb fools will get so before long, that a man can't drink milk
+porridge without their prayin' over him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Be calm! stand right still in the middle of the floor, Josiah
+Allen, and I'll light a lamp,&rdquo; which I did; and he sot down cleverer,
+though he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You want to take away all the rights of a man. Liquor is good for
+sickness, and you know it. You go onto extremes, you go too fur.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I calmly, &ldquo;Do you s'pose, at this late hour, I am goin' to stop bein'
+mejum? No! mejum have I lived, and mejum will I die. I believe liquor is
+good for medicine: if I should say I didn't, I should be a lyin', which I
+am fur from wantin' to do at my age. I think it kep' mother Allen alive
+for years, jest as I believe arsenic broke up Bildad Smith's chills. And I
+s'pose folks have jest as good a right to use it for the benefit of their
+health, as to use any other pizen, or fire, or any thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it should be used jest like pizen and fire and etcetery. You don't
+want to eat pizen for a treat, or pass it round amongst your friends. You
+don't want to play with fire for fun, or burn yourself up with it. You
+don't want to use it to confligrate yourself or anybody else.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So with liquor. You don't want to drink liquor to kill yourself with, or
+to kill other folks. You don't want to inebriate with it. If I had my way,
+Josiah Allen,&rdquo; says I firmly, &ldquo;the hull liquor-trade should be in the
+hands of doctors, who wouldn't sell a drop without knowin' <i>positive</i>
+that it wus <i>needed</i> for sickness, or the aged and infirm. Good,
+honest doctors who couldn't be bought nor sold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where would you find 'em?&rdquo; says Josiah in a gruff tone (I mistrust his
+toe pained him).
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I thoughtfully, &ldquo;Surely there is one good, reliable man left in every
+town&mdash;that could be found.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know about it,&rdquo; says he, sort o' musin'ly. &ldquo;I am gettin' pretty
+old to begin it, but I don't know but I might get to be a doctor now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, brightenin' up, &ldquo;It can't take much study to deal out a dose of
+salts now and then, or count anybody's pult.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But says I firmly, &ldquo;Give up that idee at once, Josiah Allen. I have come
+out alive, out of all your other plans and progects, and I hain't a goin'
+to be killed now at my age, by you as a doctor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+My tone wus so powerful, and even skairful, that he gin up the idee, and
+wound up the clock, and went to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VI.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Cicely wus some better the next day. And two days before we sot sail for
+Washington, Philury Mesick, the girl Ury was payin' attention to, and who
+was goin' to keep my house durin' my absence on my tower, come with a
+small, a very small trunk, ornimented with brass nails.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor little thing! I wus always sorry for her, she is so little, and so
+freckled, and so awful willin' to do jest as anybody wants her to. She is
+a girl that Miss Solomon Gowdey kinder took. And I think, if there is any
+condition that is hard, it is to be &ldquo;kinder took.&rdquo; Why, if I was took at
+all, I should want to be &ldquo;<i>took</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But Miss Gowdey took Philury jest enough not to pay her any regular wages,
+and didn't take her enough so Philury could collect any pay from her when
+she left. She left, because there wus a hardness between 'em, on account
+of a grindstun. Philury said Miss Gowdey's little boy broke the grindstun,
+and the boy laid it to Philury. Anyway, the grindstun wus broke, and it
+made a hardness. And when Philury left Miss Gowdey's, all her worldly
+wealth wuz held in that poor, pitiful lookin' trunk. Why, the trunk looked
+like Philury, and Philury looked like the trunk. It looked small, and
+meek, and well disposed; and the brass nails looked some like frecks, only
+larger.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I felt sorry for her: and I s'posed, that, married or single, she
+would have to wear stockin's; so I told her, that, besides her wages, she
+might have all the lamb's-wool yarn she wanted to spin while I was gone,
+after doin' the house-work.
+</p>
+<p>
+She wus tickled enough as I told her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;I can spin enough to last me for years and years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;so much the better. I have mistrusted,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;that
+Miss Gowdey wouldn't do much for you on account of that hardness about the
+grindstun; and knowin' that you hain't got no mother, I have laid out to
+do middlin' well by you and Ury when you get married.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she blushed, and said &ldquo;she expected to marry Ury sometime&mdash;years
+and years hence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you can spin the yarn anyway.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Philury is a real handy little thing about the house. And so willin' and
+clever, that I guess, if I had asked her to jump into the oven, and bake
+herself, she would have done it. And so I told Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/192.jpg" alt="Philury" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;he thought a little more bakin' wouldn't hurt her.&rdquo; Says he,
+&ldquo;She is pretty soft.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And says I, &ldquo;Soft or not, she's good. And that is more than I can say for
+some folks, who <i>think</i> they know a little more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I will stand up for my sect.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, in three days' time we sot sail for Washington, D.C., I a feelin'
+well about Josiah. For Philury and Ury wus clever, and would do well by
+him. And the cubbard wus full and overflowin' with every thing good to
+eat. And I felt that I had indeed, in that cubbard, left him a consoler.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah took us to the train about an hour and a half too early. But I wus
+glad we wus on time, because it would have worked Josiah up dretfully if
+we hadn't been. For he had spent the most of the latter part of the night
+in gettin' up and walkin' out to the clock to see if it wus approachin'
+train time: the train left at a quarter to ten.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wus glad on his account, and also on my own; for at the last minute, as
+you may say, who should come a runnin' down to the depot but Sam
+Shelmadine, a wantin' to send a errent by me to Washington.
+</p>
+<p>
+He kinder wunk me out to one side of the waitin'-room, and asked me &ldquo;if I
+would try to get him a license to steal horses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It kinder runs in the blood of the Shelmadines to love to steal, and he
+owned up that it did. But he wuzn't goin' into it for that, he said: he
+wanted the profit of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I told him &ldquo;I wouldn't do any such thing;&rdquo; and I looked at him in such
+a witherin' way, that I should most probable have withered him, only he is
+blind with one eye, and I was on the blind side.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he argued with me, and said it was no worse than to give licenses for
+other kinds of meanness.
+</p>
+<p>
+He said they give licenses now to steal&mdash;steal folks'es senses away,
+and then they would steal every thing else, and murder, and tear round
+into every kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things
+done fair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He was goin' West,
+and he thought he could do a good business, and lay up something. If he
+had a license, he shouldn't be afraid of bein' shot up, or shot.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wus refusin', the cars
+snorted, and I wus glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild
+snort something of the indignation I felt.
+</p>
+<p>
+The <i>idee</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Cicely and the boy and I got to Washington, the shades of twilight
+was a shadin the earth gently; and we got a man to take us to Condelick
+Smith'ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+The man was in a hack, as Cicely called it (and he had a hackin' cough,
+too, which made it seem more singular). We told him to take us right to
+Miss Condelick Smith'ses. Condelick is my own cousin on my own side, and
+travelin' on the road for groceries.
+</p>
+<p>
+She keeps a nice, quiet boardin'-house. Only a few boarders, &ldquo;with the
+comforts of a home, and congenial society,&rdquo; as she wrote to me when she
+heard I wus a comin' to Washington. She said we had <i>got</i> to go to
+her house; so we went, with the distinct knowledge in our minds and
+pocket-books, of payin' for our 3 boards.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was very tickled to see us, and embraced us almost warmly. She had
+been over a hot fire a cookin'. She is humbly, but likely, I have been
+told and believe.
+</p>
+<p>
+She has got a wen on her cheek, but that don't hurt her any. Wens hain't
+nothin' that detract from a person's moral worth.
+</p>
+<p>
+There is only one child in the family,&mdash;Condelick, Jr., aged 13. A
+good, fat boy, with white hair and blue eyes, and a great capacity for
+blushin', but seemed to be good dispositioned.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus late supper time; and we had only time to go up into our rooms, and
+bathe our weary faces and hands, when we had to go down to supper.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Condelick Smith called it dinner: she misspoke herself. Havin' so
+much on her hands, it is no wonder that she should make a slip once in a
+while. I should, myself, if my mind wuzn't like iron for strength. There
+wus only three or four to the table besides us: it wuz later than their
+usial supper time. There wus a young couple there who had jest been
+married, and come there to live.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ever sense we left home we had seen sights and sights of brides and
+groomses. It seemed to be a good time of year for 'em; and Cicely and I
+would pass the time by guessin', from their demeaners, how long they had
+been married. You know they act very soft the first day or two, and then
+harden gradually, as time passes, till sometimes they get very hard.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, as I looked at this young pair, I whispered to Cicely,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;2 days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They acted well. Though I see with pain that the bride was tryin' to
+foller after the groom blindly, and I see she was a layin' up trouble for
+herself. Amongst other good things, they had a baked chicken for supper;
+and when the young husband wus asked what part of the fowl he would take,
+he said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was immaterial!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then, when they asked the bride, she blushed sweetly, and said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would take a piece of the immaterial too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she bein' next to me, I said to her in a low tone, but firm and
+motherly,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a beginner in married life; and I say to you, as one who has had
+stiddy practice for 20 years, begin right. Let your affections be firm as
+adamant, cling closely to Duty's apron-strings, but do not too blindly
+copy after your groom. Try to stand up on your own feet, and be a helpmate
+to him, not a dead weight for him to carry. Do branch right out, and tell
+what part of the fowl, or of life, you want, if it hain't nothin' but the
+gizzard or neck; and then try to get it. If you don't have any
+self-reliance, if you don't try to help yourself any, it is highly
+probable to me, that you won't get any thing more out of the fowl, or of
+life, than a piece of 'the immaterial.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She blushed, and said she would. And so Duty bein' appeased, and attended
+to, I calmly pursued my own meal.
+</p>
+<p>
+The next morning Cicely was so beat out that she couldn't get up at all.
+She wuzn't sick, only jest tired out. And so the boy and I sot out alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+I told Cicely I would do my errents the first thing, so as to leave my
+mind and my conscience clear for the rest of my stay.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/197.jpg" alt="Samantha Advising the Bride" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And I knew there wuz a good many who would feel hurt, deeply hurt, if I
+didn't notice 'em right off the first thing. The President, and lots of
+'em, I knew would take it right to heart, and feel dretfully worked up and
+slighted, if I didn't call on 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, I had to carry Dorlesky's errent to the President anyway. And I
+thought I would tend to it right away, so I sot out in good season.
+</p>
+<p>
+When you are a noticin' anybody, and makin' 'em perfectly happy, you feel
+well yourself. I was in good spirits, and quite a number of 'em. The boy
+wus feelin' well too. He had a little black velvet suit and a deep lace
+collar, and his gold curls was a hangin' down under his little black
+velvet cap. They made him look more babyish; but I believe Cicely kept 'em
+so to make him look young, she felt so dubersome about his future. But he
+looked sweet enough to kiss right there in the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+I, too, looked well, very. I had on that new dress, Bismark brown, the
+color remindin' me of 2 noble patriots. And made by a Martha. I thought of
+that proudly, as I looked at George's benign face on the top of the
+monument, and wondered what he'd say if he see it, and hefted my emotions
+I had when causin' it to be made for my tower. I realized as I meandered
+along, that patriotism wus enwrappin' me from head to foot; for my polynay
+was long, and my head was completely full of Gass'es &ldquo;Journal,&rdquo; and
+Starks'es &ldquo;Life of Washington,&rdquo; and a few martyrs.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wus carryin' Dorlesky's errents.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the outside of my head I had a good honorable shirred silk bunnet, the
+color of my dress, a good solid brown (that same color, B. B.). And my
+usial long green veil, with a lute-string ribbon run in, hung down on one
+side of my bunnet in its wonted way.
+</p>
+<p>
+It hung gracefully, and yet it seemed to me there wus both dignity and
+principle in its hang. It give me a sort of a dressy look, but none too
+dressy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so we wended our way down the broad, beautiful streets towards the
+White House.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/199.jpg"
+ alt="Samantha and Paul on the Way to The White House" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Handsomer streets I never see. I had thought Jonesville streets wus
+middlin' handsome and roomy. Why, two double wagons can go by each other
+with perfect safety, right in front of the grocery stores, where there is
+lots of boxes too; and wimmen can be a walkin' there too at the same time,
+hefty ones.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, good land! Loads of hay could pass each other here, and droves of
+dromedaries, and camels, and not touch each other, and then there would be
+lots of room for men and wimmen, and for wagons to rumble, and perioguers
+to float up and down,&mdash;if perioguers could sail on dry land.
+</p>
+<p>
+Roomier, handsomer, well shadeder streets I never want to see, nor don't
+expect to. Why, Jonesville streets are like tape compared with 'em; and
+Loontown and Toad Holler, they are like thread, No. 50 (allegory).
+</p>
+<p>
+Bub Smith wus well acquainted with the President's hired man, so he let us
+in without parlay.
+</p>
+<p>
+I don't believe in talkin big as a general thing. But thinks'es I, Here I
+be, a holdin' up the dignity of Jonesville: and here I be, on a deep,
+heart-searchin' errent to the Nation. So I said, in words and axents a
+good deal like them I have read of in &ldquo;Children of the Abbey,&rdquo; and
+&ldquo;Charlotte Temple,&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is the President of the United States within?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He said he was, but said sunthin' about his not receiving calls in the
+mornings.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I says in a very polite way,&mdash;for I like to put folks at their
+ease, presidents or peddlers or any thing,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It hain't no matter at all if he hain't dressed up&mdash;of course he
+wuzn't expectin' company. Josiah don't dress up mornin's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he says something about &ldquo;he didn't know but he was engaged.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That hain't no news to me, nor the Nation. We have been a hearin'
+that for three years, right along. And if he is engaged, it hain't no good
+reason why he shouldn't speak to other wimmen,&mdash;good, honorable
+married ones too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he finally, &ldquo;I will take up your card.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, you won't!&rdquo; says I firmly. &ldquo;I am a Methodist! I guess I can start off
+on a short tower, without takin' a pack of cards with me. And if I had 'em
+right here in my pocket, or a set of dominoes, I shouldn't expect to take
+up the time of the President of the United States a playin' games at this
+time of the day.&rdquo; Says I in deep tones, &ldquo;I am a carrien' errents to the
+President that the world knows not of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He blushed up red; he was ashamed; and he said &ldquo;he would see if I could be
+admitted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he led the way along, and I follered, and the boy. Bub Smith had left
+us at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+The hired man seemed to think I would want to look round some; and he
+walked sort o' slow, out of courtesy. But, good land! how little that
+hired man knew my feelin's, as he led me on, I a thinkin' to myself,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here I am, a steppin' where G. Washington strode.&rdquo; Oh the grandeur of my
+feelin's! The nobility of 'em! and the quantity! Why, it was a perfect
+sight.
+</p>
+<p>
+But right into these exalted sentiments the hired man intruded with his
+frivolous remarks,&mdash;worse than frivolous.
+</p>
+<p>
+He says agin something about &ldquo;not knowin' whether the President would be
+ready to receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I stepped down sudden from that lofty piller I had trod on in my mind,
+and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you agin, I don't care whether he is dressed up or not. I come on
+principle, and I shall look at him through that eye, and no other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, turnin' sort o' red agin (he was ashamed), &ldquo;have you
+noticed the beauty of the didos?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I kep' my head right up in the air nobly, and never turned to the
+right or the left; and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't see no beauty in cuttin' up didos, nor never did. I have heard
+that they did such things here in Washington, D.C., but I do not choose to
+have my attention drawed to 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I pondered a minute, and the word &ldquo;meetin'-house&rdquo; struck a fearful
+blow aginst my conscience;' and I says in milder axents,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I looked upon a dido at all, it would be, not with a human woman's
+eye, but the eye of a Methodist. My duty draws me:&mdash;point out the
+dido, and I will look at it through that one eye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;I was a talkin' about the walls of this room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Why couldn't you say so in the first place? The idee of
+skairin' folks! or tryin' to,&rdquo; I added; for I hain't easily skairt.
+</p>
+<p>
+The walls wus perfectly beautiful, and so wus the ceilin' and floors.
+There wuzn't a house in Jonesville that could compare with it, though we
+had painted our meetin-house over at a cost of upwards of 28 dollars. But
+it didn't come up to this&mdash;not half. President Arthur has got good
+taste; and I thought to myself, and I says to the hired man, as I looked
+round and see the soft richness and quiet beauty and grandeur of the
+surroundings,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had just as lives have him pick me out a calico dress as to pick it out
+myself. And that is sayin' a great deal,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I am always very
+putickuler in calico: richness and beauty is what I look out for, and
+wear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Jest as I wus sayin' this, the hired man opened a door into a lofty,
+beautiful room; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Step in here, madam, into the antick room, and I'll see if the President
+can see you;&rdquo; and he started off sudden, bein' called. And I jest turned
+round and looked after him, for I wanted to enquire into it. I had heard
+of their cuttin' up anticks at Washington,&mdash;I had come prepared for
+it; but I didn't know as they was bold enough to come right out, and have
+rooms devoted to that purpose. And I looked all round the room before I
+ventured in. But it looked neat as a pin, and not a soul in there; and
+thinks'es I, &ldquo;It hain't probable their day for cuttin' up anticks. I guess
+I'll venture.&rdquo; So I went in.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I sot pretty near the edge of the chair, ready to jump at the first
+thing I didn't like. And I kep' a close holt of the boy. I felt that I was
+right in the midst of dangers. I had feared and foreboded,&mdash;oh, how I
+had feared and foreboded about the dangers and deep perils of Washington,
+D.C.! And here I wuz, the very first thing, invited right in broad
+daylight, with no excuse or any thing, right into a antick room.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how thankful, how thankful I wuz, that Josiah Allen wuzn't there!
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew, as he felt a good deal of the time, an antick room was what he
+would choose out of all others. And I felt stronger than ever the deep
+resolve that Josiah Allen should not run. He must not be exposed to such
+dangers, with his mind as it wuz, and his heft. I felt that he would
+suckumb.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I wondered that President Arthur, who I had always heard was a perfect
+gentleman, should come to have a room called like that, but s'posed it was
+there when he went. I don't believe he'd countenance any thing of the
+kind.
+</p>
+<p>
+I was jest a thinkin' this when the hired man come back, and said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The President would receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I calmly, &ldquo;I am ready to be received.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room, kinder round,
+and red colored, with lots of elegant pictures and lookin'-glasses and
+books.
+</p>
+<p>
+The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and, good
+land! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed up
+slick&mdash;slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He
+had on a sort of a gray suit, and a rose-bud in his button-hole.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was a good-lookin' man, though he had a middlin' tired look in his
+kinder brown eyes as he looked up.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/204.jpg" alt="Samantha Meeting the President" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I had calculated to act noble on that occasion, as I appeared before him
+who stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W., and sot in the
+chair of the (nearly) angel Garfield. I had thought that likely as not,
+entirely unbeknown to me, I should soar right off into a eloquent oration.
+For I honored him as a President. I felt like neighborin' with him on
+account of his name&mdash;Allen! (That name I took at the alter of
+Jonesville, and pure love.)
+</p>
+<p>
+But how little can we calculate on future contingencies, or what we shall
+do when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I had said
+before on a similar occasion, these simple words, that yet mean so much,
+so much,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Allen, I have come!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He, too, was overcome by his feelin's: I see he wuz. His face looked
+fairly solemn; but, as he is a perfect gentleman, he controlled himself,
+and said quietly these words, that, too, have a deep import,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see you have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady.
+And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip
+holt of the same hellum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm
+when I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.
+</p>
+<p>
+I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent
+chair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds,&mdash;I hain't
+vain, but I like to look well,&mdash;and then I at once told him of my
+errents. I told him&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,&mdash;one for myself,
+and two for Dorlesky Burpy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always looks
+tired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-chores done, so
+it didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my own
+errent first, consequently I tackled him.
+</p>
+<p>
+I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said, &ldquo;he had heard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;I s'pose so. I s'pose such things will spread, bein' a sort
+of a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and all
+round.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it was spoke of a good deal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;the cast-iron love and devotion I feel for that man don't
+show off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up strongest
+in dangers and troubles.&rdquo; And then I went on to tell him how Josiah wanted
+to come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had always heard
+Washington wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for me to lay down on
+my goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety, while my pardner was
+a grapplin' with dangers of which I did not know the exact size and heft.
+And so I had made up my mind to come ahead of him, as a forerunner on a
+tower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and see if I dast trust my
+companion there. &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I want you to tell me candid,&rdquo; says
+I. &ldquo;Your settin' in George Washington's high chair makes me look up to
+you. It is a sightly place; you can see fur: your name bein' Allen makes
+me feel sort o' confidential and good towards you, and I want you to talk
+real honest and candid with me.&rdquo; Says I solemnly, &ldquo;I ask you, Allen, not
+as a politician, but as a human bein', would you dast to let Josiah come?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on what
+sort of a man it is that comes.&rdquo; Then was a tryin' time for me. I would
+not lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even from
+myself. So I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is a man that has traits and qualities, and sights of 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But thinkin' that I must do so, if I got true information of dangers, I
+went on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered dangerous
+to himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my dark
+forebodin's about it.
+</p>
+<p>
+The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what I
+had always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him all
+his political views and aspirations, and offered his help to the
+Government. And says he, &ldquo;I think I know all about the man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you see he is a good deal like other men.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said, sort o' dreamily, &ldquo;that he was.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then agin silence rained. He was a thinkin', I knew, on all the deep
+dangers that hedged in Josiah Allen and America if he come. And a musin'
+on all the probable dangers of the Plan. And a thinkin' it over how to do
+jest right in the matter,&mdash;right by Josiah, right by the nation,
+right by me.
+</p>
+<p>
+Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and I
+says in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would it be safe for my pardner to come to Washington? Would it be safe
+for Josiah, safe for the nation?&rdquo; Says I, in deeper, mournfuler tones,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you&mdash;would you dast to let him come?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He said, sort o' dreamily, &ldquo;that those views and aspirations of Josiah's
+wasn't really needed at Washington, they had plenty of them there; and&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I says, &ldquo;I <i>must</i> have a plainer answer to ease my mind and
+heart. Do tell me plain,&mdash;would you dast?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He looked full at me. He has got good, honest-looking eyes, and a
+sensible, candid look onto him. He liked me,&mdash;I knew he did from his
+looks,&mdash;a calm, Methodist-Episcopal likin',&mdash;nothin' light.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I see in them eyes that he didn't like Josiah's political idees. I see
+that he was afraid, as afraid as death of that plan; and I see that he
+considered Washington a dangerous, dangerous place for grangers and Josiah
+Allens to be a roamin' round in. I could see that he dreaded the
+sufferin's for me and for the nation if the Hon. Josiah Allen was elected.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/208.jpg" alt="'Would You Dast?'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But still, he seemed to hate to speak; and wise, cautious conservatism,
+and gentlemanly dignity, was wrote down on his linement. Even the red
+rosebud in his button-hole looked dretful good-natured, but close-mouthed.
+</p>
+<p>
+I don't know as he would have spoke at all agin, if I hadn't uttered once
+more them soul-harrowin' words, &ldquo;<i>Would you dast?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Pity and good feelin' then seemed to overpower for a moment the statesman
+and courteous diplomat.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said in gentle, gracious tones, &ldquo;If I tell you just what I think, I
+would not like to say it officially, but would say it in confidence, as
+from an Allen to an Allen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;It sha'n't go no further.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so I would warn everybody that it must <i>not</i> be told.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then says he, &ldquo;I will tell you. I wouldn't dast.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That settles it. If human efforts can avail, Josiah Allen will
+not be United-States senator.&rdquo; And says I, &ldquo;You have only confirmed my
+fears. I knew, feelin' as he felt, that it wuzn't safe for Josiah or the
+nation to have him come.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Agin he reminded me that it was told to me in confidence, and agin I want
+to say that it <i>must</i> be kep'.
+</p>
+<p>
+I thanked him for his kindness. He is a perfect gentleman; and he told me
+jest out of courtesy and politeness, and I know it. And I can be very
+polite too. And I am naturally one of the kindest-hearted of
+Jonesvillians.
+</p>
+<p>
+So I says to him, &ldquo;I won't forget your kindness to me; and I want to say
+right here, that Josiah and me both think well on you&mdash;first-rate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he with a sort of a tired look, as if he wus a lookin' back over a
+hard road, &ldquo;I have honestly tried to do the best I could.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I believe it.&rdquo; And wantin' to encourage him still more, says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah believes it, and Dorlesky Burpy, and lots of other Jonesvillians.&rdquo;
+ Says I, &ldquo;To set down in a chair that an angel has jest vacated, a high
+chair under the full glare of critical inspection, is a tegus place. I
+don't s'pose Garfield was really an angel, but his sufferin's and
+martyrdom placed him almost in that light before the world.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you have filled that chair, and filled it well. With dignity and
+courtesy and prudence. And we have been proud of you, Josiah and me both
+have.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He brightened up: he had been afraid, I could see, that we wuzn't suited
+with him. And it took a load offen him. His linement looked clearer than
+it had, and brighter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now,&rdquo; says I, sithin' a little, &ldquo;I have got to do Dorlesky's
+errents.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He, too, sithed. His linement fell. I pitied him, and would gladly have
+refrained from troubling him more. But duty hunched me; and when she
+hunches, I have to move forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I in measured tones, each tone measurin' jest about the same,&mdash;half
+duty, and half pity for him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorlesky Burpy sent these errents to you. She wanted intemperance done
+away with&mdash;the Whiskey Ring broke right up. She wanted you to drink
+nothin' stronger than root-beer when you had company to dinner, she
+offerin' to send you a receipt for it from Jonesville; and she wanted her
+rights, and she wanted 'em all this week without fail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He sithed hard. And never did I see a linement fall further than his
+linement fell. I pitied him. I see it wus a hard stent for him, to do it
+in the time she had sot.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;I think myself that Dorlesky is a little onreasonable. I
+myself am willin' to wait till next week. But she has suffered dretfully
+from intemperance, dretfully from the Rings, and dretfully from want of
+Rights. And her sufferin's have made her more voyalent in her demands, and
+impatienter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent. But my promise
+weighed on me, and Duty poked me in the side. I wus determined to do the
+errent jest as I would wish a errent done for me, from borryin' a drawin'
+of tea to tacklin' the nation, and tryin' to get a little mess of truth
+and justice out of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do these things, she
+would have you removed from the Presidential chair, and you should never,
+never, be President agin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He trembled, he trembled like a popple-leaf. And I felt as if I should
+sink: it seemed to me jest as if Dorlesky wus askin' too much of him, and
+was threatenin' too hard.
+</p>
+<p>
+And bein' one that loves truth, I told him that Dorlesky was middlin'
+disagreeable, and very humbly, but she needed her rights jest as much as
+if she was a dolly. And then I went on and told him all how she and her
+relations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she had
+suffered from the Ring, till I declare, a talkin about them little
+children of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin' as Dorlesky
+herself; and entirely unbeknown to myself, I talked powerful on
+intemperance and Rings&mdash;and sound.
+</p>
+<p>
+When I got down agin onto my feet, I see he had a sort of a worried,
+anxious look; and he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The laws of the United States are such, that I can't interfere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;why don't you <i>make</i> the United States do right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said somethin' about the might of the majority and the powerful
+rings.
+</p>
+<p>
+And that sot me off agin. And I talked very powerful, kinder allegored,
+about allowin' a ring to be put round the United States, and let a lot of
+whiskey-dealers lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels. Says
+I, &ldquo;How does it look before the Nations, to see Columbia led round half
+tipsy by a Ring?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He seemed to think it looked bad, I knew by his looks.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Intemperance is bad for Dorlesky, and bad for the Nation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He murmured somethin' about the &ldquo;revenue that the liquor-trade brought to
+the Government.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I says, &ldquo;Every penny they give, is money right out of the people's
+pockets; and every dollar that the people pay into the liquor-traffic,
+that they may give a few cents of it into the Treasury, is costin' the
+people three times that dollar, in the loss that intemperance entails,&mdash;loss
+of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do any thing but wobble and
+stagger round; loss of wealth, by all the enormous losses of property and
+of taxation, of almshouses and madhouses, jails, police forces, paupers'
+coffins, and the digging of the thousands and thousands of graves that are
+filled yearly by them that reel into 'em.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Wouldn't it be better
+for the people to pay that dollar in the first place into the Treasury,
+than to let it filter through the dram-seller's hands, and 2 or 3 cents of
+it fall into the National purse at last, putrid, and heavy with all these
+losses and curses and crimes and shames and despairs and agonies?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He seemed to think it would: I see by the looks of his linement, he did.
+Every honorable man feels so in his heart; and yet they let the liquor
+ring control 'em, and lead 'em round.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;All the intellectual and moral power of the United States are
+jest rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring, and are being drove by
+the whiskey-dealers jest where they want to drive 'em.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;It
+controls New-York village, and nobody pretends to deny it; and all the
+piety and philanthropy and culture and philosiphy of that village has to
+be jest drawed along in that Ring. And,&rdquo; says I, in low but startlin'
+tones of principle,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where, where, is it a drawin' 'em to? Where is it a drawin' the hull
+nation to? Is it' a drawin' 'em down into a slavery ten times more abject
+and soul-destroyin' than African slavery ever was? Tell me,&rdquo; says I
+firmly, &ldquo;tell me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+His mean looked impressed, but he did not try to frame a reply. I think he
+could not find a frame. There is no frame to that reply. It is a conundrum
+as boundless as truth and God's justice, and as solemnly deep in its sure
+consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as that is.
+</p>
+<p>
+Agin I says, &ldquo;Where is that Ring a drawin' the United States? Where is it
+a drawin' Dorlesky?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Dorlesky!&rdquo; says he, a comin' up out of his deep reveryin', but
+polite,&mdash;a politer demeanerd, gentlemanly appeariner man I don't want
+to see. &ldquo;Ah, yes! I would be glad, Josiah Allen's wife, to do her errent.
+I think Dorlesky is justified in asking to have the Ring destroyed. But I
+am not the one to go to&mdash;I am not the one to do her errent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Who is the man, or men?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;James G. Blaine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Is that so? I will go right to James G. Blaineses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So I spoke to the boy. He had been all engaged lookin' out of the winders,
+but he was willin' to go.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the President took the boy upon his knee, wantin' to do something
+agreeable, I s'pose, seein' he couldn't do the errent. And he says, jest
+to make himself pleasant to the boy,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my little man, are you a Republican, or Democrat?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am a Epispocal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And seein' the boy seemed to be headed onto theoligy instead of politics,
+and wantin' to kinder show him off, I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell the gentleman who made you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He spoke right up prompt, as if hurryin' to get through theoligy, so's to
+tackle sunthin' else. He answered as exhaustively as an exhauster could at
+a meetin',&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was made out of dust, and breathed into. I am made out of God and
+dirt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh, how deep, how deep that child is! I never had heard him say that
+before. But how true it wuz! The divine and the human, linked so close
+together from birth till death. No philosipher that ever philosiphized
+could go deeper or higher.
+</p>
+<p>
+I see the President looked impressed. But the boy branched off quick, for
+he seemed fairly burstin' with questions.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Say,</i> what is this house called the White House for? Is it because
+it is to help white folks, and not help the black ones, and Injins?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I declare, I almost thought the boy had heard sunthin' about the elections
+in the South, and the Congressional vote for cuttin' down the money for
+the Indian schools. Legislative action to perpetuate the ignorance and
+brutality of a race.
+</p>
+<p>
+The President said dreamily, &ldquo;No, it wasn't for that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, is it called white like the gate of the City is? Mamma said that
+was white,&mdash;a pearl, you know,&mdash;because every thing was pure and
+white inside the City. Is it because the laws that are made here are all
+white and good? And <i>say</i>&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Here his eyes looked dark and big with excitement.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is George Washington up on top of that big white piller for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was a great man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How much did he weigh? How many yards did it take for his vest&mdash;forty?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He did great and noble deeds&mdash;he fought and bled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If fighting makes folks great, why did mamma punish me when I fought with
+Jim Gowdey? He stole my jack-knife, and knocked me down, and set down on
+me, and took my chewing-gum away from me, and chewed it himself. And I
+rose against him, and we fought and bled: my nose bled, and so did his.
+But I got it away from him, and chewed it myself. But mamma punished me,
+and said; God wouldn't love me if I quarrelled so, and if we couldn't
+agree, we must get somebody to settle our trouble for us. Why didn't she
+stand me up on a big white pillow out in the door-yard, and be proud of
+me, and not shut me up in a dark closet?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fought for Liberty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did he get it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fought that the United States might be free.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it free?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The President waved off that question, and the boy kep' on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it true what you have been talkin' about,&mdash;is there a great big
+ring put all round it, and is it bein' drawed along into a mean place?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> </a>
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+      <img src="images/215.jpg" alt="215 " width="100%" /><br />
+    </div>
+
+<p>
+And then the boy's eyes grew black with excitement; and he kep' right on
+without waitin' for breath, or for a answer,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had heard it talked about, was it right to let anybody do wrong for
+money? Did the United States do it? Did it make mean things right? If it
+did, he wanted to get one of Tom Gowdy's white rats. He wouldn't sell it,
+and he wanted it. His mother wouldn't let him steal it; but if the United
+States could <i>make</i> it right for him to do wrong, he had got ten
+cents of his own, and he'd buy the right to get that white rat. And if Tom
+wanted to cry about it, let him. If the United States sold him the right
+to do it, he guessed he could do it, no matter how much whimperin' there
+was, and no matter who said it was wrong. <i>He wanted the rat</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I see the President's eyes, which had looked kinder rested when he
+took him up, grew bigger and bigger with surprise and anxiety. I guess he
+thought he had got his day's work in front of him. And I told the boy we
+must go. And then I says to the President,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I knew he was quite a traveller, and of course he wouldn't want to
+die without seein' Jonesville;&rdquo; and says I, &ldquo;Be sure to come to our house
+to supper when you come.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I can't reccomend the huntin' so much;
+there haint nothin' more excitin' to shoot than red squirrels and
+chipmunks: but there is quite good fishin' in the creek back of our house;
+they ketched 4 horned Asa's there last week, and lots of chubs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He smiled real agreable, and said, &ldquo;when he visited Jonesville, he
+wouldn't fail to take tea with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;So do; and, if you get lost, you jest enquire at the Corners of
+old Grout Nickleson, and he will set you right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He smiled agin, and said &ldquo;he wouldn't fail to enquire if he got lost.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I shook hands with him, thinkin' it would be expected of me (his
+hands are white, and not much bigger than Tirzah Ann's). And then I
+removed the boy by voyalence, for he was a askin' questions agin, faster
+than ever; and he poured out over his shoulder a partin' dribble of
+questions, that lasted till we got outside. And then he tackled me, and he
+asked me somewhere in the neighborhood of a 1,000 questions on the way
+back to Miss Smiths'es.
+</p>
+<p>
+He begun agin on George Washington jest as quick as he ketched sight of
+his monument agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If George Washington is up on the top of that monument for tellin' the
+truth, why didn't all the big men try to tell the truth so's to be stood
+up on pillows outdoors, and not be a layin' down in the grass? And did the
+little hatchet help him do right? If it did, why didn't all the big men
+wear them in their belts to do right with, and tell the truth with? And <i>say</i>&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, dear me suz! He asked me over 40 questions to a lamp-post, for I
+counted 'em; and there wuz 18 posts.
+</p>
+<p>
+Good land! I'd ruther wash than try to answer him; but he looked so sweet
+and good-natured and confidin', his eyes danced so, and he was so awful
+pretty, that I felt in the midst of my deep fag, that I could kiss him
+right there in the street if it wuzn't for the looks of it: he is a
+beautiful child, and very deep.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VII.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Wall, after dinner I sot sail for James G. Blains'es, a walkin' afoot, and
+carryin' Dorlesky's errent. I was determined to do that errent before I
+slept. I am very obleegin', and am called so.
+</p>
+<p>
+When I got to Mr. Blaines'es, I was considerably tired; for though
+Dorlesky's errent might not be heavy as weighed by the steelyards, yet it
+was <i>very</i> hefty and wearin' on the moral feelin's. And my firm,
+unalterable determination to carry it straight, and tend to it, to the
+very utmost of my ability, strained on me.
+</p>
+<p>
+I was fagged.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I don't believe Mr. Blaine see the fag. I shook hands with him, and
+there was calmness in that shake. I passed the compliments of the day (how
+do you do, etc.), and there was peace and dignity in them compliments.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was most probable, glad I had come. But he didn't seem quite so
+over-rejoiced as he probable would if he hadn't been so busy. <i>I</i>
+can't be so highly tickled when company comes, when I am washin' and
+cleanin' house.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had piles and piles of papers on the table before him. And there was a
+gentleman a settin' at the end of the room a readin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+I like James G. Blaines'es looks middlin' well. Although, like myself, he
+don't set up for a professional beauty. It seems as if some of the
+strength of the mountain pines round his old home is a holdin' up his
+backbone, and some of the bracin' air of the pine woods of Maine has
+blowed into James'es intellect, and braced it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/221.jpg" alt="Samantha Meeting James G. Blaine" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I think enough of James, but not too much. My likin' is jest about strong
+enough from a literary person to a literary person.
+</p>
+<p>
+We are both literary, very. He is considerable taller than I am; and on
+that account, and a good many others, I felt like lookin' up to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, when I have got a hard job in front of me, I don't know any better
+way than to tackle it to once. So consequently I tackled it.
+</p>
+<p>
+I told James, that Dorlesky Burpy had sent two errents by me, and I had
+brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then I told him jest how she had suffered from the Whisky Ring, and
+how she had suffered from not havin' her rights; and I told him all about
+her relations sufferin', and that Dorlesky wanted the Ring broke, and her
+rights gin to her, within seven days at the longest.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rubbed his brow thoughtfully, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will be difficult to accomplish so much in so short a time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I told Dorlesky it would. But she feels jest so, and
+I promised to do her errent; and I am a doin' it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Agin he rubbed his brow in deep thought, and agin he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think Dorlesky is unreasonable in her demands, only in the length
+of time she has set.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could do
+her errents this week. But you can see for yourself that she is right,
+only in the time she has sot.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He see she wuz.&rdquo; And says he, &ldquo;I wish the 3 could be
+reconciled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What 3?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;The liquor traffic, liberty, and Dorlesky.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then come the very hardest part of my errent. But I had to do it, I
+had to.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't the
+woman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the wrong tones
+at the wrong times&mdash;no, I used my deepest and most skairful one&mdash;says
+I, &ldquo;Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do her errent, you
+should not be the next President of the United States.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He turned pale. He looked agitated, fearful agitated.
+</p>
+<p>
+I s'pose it was not only my words and tone that skairt him, but my mean. I
+put on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble, high-headed
+mean at times. I got it, I think, in the first place, by overlookin'
+Josiah's faults. I always said a wife ort to overlook her husband's
+faults; and I have to overlook so many, that it has made me about as
+high-headed, sometimes, as a warlike gander, but more sort o'
+meller-lookin', and sublime, kinder.
+</p>
+<p>
+He stood white as a piece of a piller-case, and seemin'ly plunged down
+into the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and says
+he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. And
+while I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the same
+time I do want to be&mdash;if you'll understand that paradox,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I sadly. &ldquo;I understand that paradox. I have seen it myself,
+right in my own family.&rdquo; And I sithed. And agin silence rained; and I sot
+quietly in the rain, thinkin' mebby good would come of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Finally he riz out of his revery; and says he, with a brighter look on his
+linement,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is the one?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Senator Logan,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get back;
+for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over
+Washington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub is
+trusty: I'll send him.&rdquo; And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a
+gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort of
+a noble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen in
+'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further.
+</p>
+<p>
+But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him
+that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves.
+</p>
+<p>
+But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman
+in the room,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I would be glad to get it done, without goin' any
+further. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots of
+other wimmen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaine
+introduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blaine
+spoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick it
+up; and then he shook hands with me: and Mr. Blaine said good-bye to me,
+and started off.
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt willin' and glad to have this senator do Dorlesky's errents, but I
+didn't like his looks from the very first minute I sot my eyes on him.
+</p>
+<p>
+My land! talk about Dorlesky Burpy bein' disagreable&mdash;he wus as
+disagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of his
+eyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more close
+than that. He was some bald-headed, and he kinder smiled once in a while:
+I persume he will be known by this description. It is plain, anyway,
+almost lucid.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0057" id="linkimage-0057"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/225.jpg" alt="Mr. Blaine Introducing the Senator" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But his baldness didn't look to me like Josiah Allen's baldness; and he
+didn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or the
+perfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised him
+from the first minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for his
+mean. Truly, as Josiah Allen says, I don't like to see anybody too good.
+</p>
+<p>
+He drawed a chair up, for me and for himself, and asked me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If he should have the inexpressible honor and the delightful joy of
+aiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it,&rdquo; or words to that
+effect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want to
+if I could.
+</p>
+<p>
+But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly in
+front of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all of
+Dorlesky's errents. And how I had brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+I told over all of her sufferin's, from the Ring, and from not havin' her
+rights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's; and all her aunt
+Eunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's, sufferin's. I did her
+errent up honorable and square, as I would love to have a errent done for
+me. I told him all the particulers; and as I finished, I said firmly,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, can you do Dorlesky's errents? and will you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He leaned forward with that deceitful and sort of disagreable smile of
+hisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fashion; and
+he took up the tab, and says he, in a low, insinuatin' voice, and lookin'
+close at the edge of the tab,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I mistaken, or is this pipein'? or can it be Kensington tattin'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I jest drawed the tab back coldly, and never dained a reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again he says, in a tone of amiable anxiety,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I not heard a rumor that bangs were going out of style? I see you do
+not wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen are
+lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them.&rdquo; And he sithed. &ldquo;<i>You</i>
+are very beautiful.&rdquo; And he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful, love-sick
+sithe.
+</p>
+<p>
+I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing against
+her stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk or
+his sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad, injured look, as
+if my coldness wus ondoin' of him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however
+carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you a
+leaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the
+traits and habits of our American wad?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What?&rdquo; says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by just
+indignation, can stand only jest so much strain. &ldquo;The what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that tailors
+make so much use of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Do you mean waddin' 8 cents a sheet?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;8 cents a pelt&mdash;yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the
+hardy habits of the animal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Cease instantly. I will hear no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and the little talk that statesmen
+will use to wimmen, and I had heard much of their lies, etc.; but truly, I
+felt that the 1/2 had not been told. And then I thought out loud, and
+says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have hearn how laws of right and justice are sot one side in
+Washington, D.C., as bein' too triflin' to attend to, while the
+legislators pondered over, and passed laws regardin', hens' eggs and
+birds' nests. But this is goin' too fur&mdash;too fur. But,&rdquo; says I
+firmly, &ldquo;I shall do Dorlesky's errents, and do 'em to the best of my
+ability; and you can't draw off my attention from her sufferin's and her
+suffragin's by talkin' about wads.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would love to obleege Dorlesky,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;because she belongs to such
+a lovely sex. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that ever
+walked the earth: they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, &ldquo;That hain't no such thing. They are disagreable creeters a
+good deal of the time. They hain't no better than men. But they ought to
+have their rights all the same. Now, Dorlesky is disagreable, and kinder
+fierce actin', and jest as humbly as they make wimmen; but that hain't no
+sign she ort to be imposed upon. Josiah says, 'She hadn't ort to have a
+right, not a single right, because she is so humbly.' But I don't feel
+so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is Josiah?&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;My husband.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! your husband! yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of rights.
+They do not need rights, they need freedom from all cares and sufferings.
+Sweet, lovely beings, let them have husbands to lift them above all
+earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes,&rdquo; says he, liftin' his
+eyes to the heavens, and kinder shettin' 'em, some as if he was goin' into
+a trance, &ldquo;fly around, ye angels, in your native haunts! mingle not with
+rings, and vile laws; flee away, flee above them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he kinder moved his hand back and forth, in a floatin' fashion, up in
+the air, as if it was a woman a flyin' up there, smooth and serene. It
+would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn't me. I says
+reasonably,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorlesky would have been glad to flew above 'em. But the ring and the
+vile laws laid holt of her, unbeknown to her, and dragged her down. And
+there she is, all dragged and bruised and brokenhearted by it. She didn't
+meddle with the political ring, but the ring meddled with her. How can she
+fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is a holdin' her down?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0058" id="linkimage-0058"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/229.jpg" alt="'Fly Around, Ye Angels'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ahem!&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;Ahem, as it were&mdash;as I was saying, my dear madam,
+these angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty, to mingle
+with the rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are
+now: we are willing to stand the rude buffetings of&mdash;of&mdash;voting,
+in order to guard these sweet, delicate creatures from any hardships.
+Sweet, tender beings, we would fain guard you&mdash;ah, yes! ah, yes!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0059" id="linkimage-0059"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/230.jpg" alt="Woman's Rights and Somebody Blundered" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase; for such talk is
+like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral stomach.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;You know, and
+I know, that these angelic, tender bein's, half clothed, fill our streets
+on icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. They
+are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want
+liquor-drinkin' entails. They are starved, they are frozen, they are
+beaten, they are made childless and hopeless, by drunken husbands killing
+their own flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves, and are
+drowned by drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death, by
+drunken engineers; they go up on the scaffold, and die of crimes committed
+by the direct aid of this agent of hell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wimmen had ruther be a flyin' round than to do all this, but they can't.
+If men really believe all they say about wimmen, and I think some of 'em
+do, in a dreamy way&mdash;if wimmen are angels, give 'em the rights of
+angels. Who ever heard of a angel foldin' up her wings, and goin' to a
+poorhouse or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever heard of a
+angel bein' dragged off to a police court by a lot of men, for fightin' to
+defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that had broke her
+wings, and blacked her eyes, himself, got the angel into the fight, and
+then she got throwed into the streets and the prison by it? Who ever heard
+of a angel havin' to take in washin' to support a drunken son or father or
+husband? Who ever heard of a angel goin' out as wet nurse to get money to
+pay taxes on her home to a Government that in theory idolizes her, and
+practically despises her, and uses that same money in ways abomenable to
+that angel?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you want to be consistent&mdash;if you are bound to make angels of
+wimmen, you ort to furnish a free, safe place for 'em to soar in. You ort
+to keep the angels from bein' meddled with, and bruised, and killed, etc.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ahem,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;As it were, ahem.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I kep' right on, for I begun to feel noble and by the side of myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This talk about wimmen bein' outside and above all participation in the
+laws of her country, is jest as pretty as I ever heard any thing, and jest
+as simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes into the
+street, and say, 'Some of 'em are female flakes, and mustn't be trampled
+on.' The great march of life tramples on 'em all alike: they fall from one
+common sky, and are trodden down into one common ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human needs
+and weaknesses, needin' the same heavenly light, and the same human aids
+and helps. The law should meet out to them the same rewards and
+punishments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dorlesky says you call wimmens angels, and you don't give 'em the rights
+of the lowest beasts that crawls upon the earth. And Dorlesky told me to
+tell you that she didn't ask the rights of a angel: she would be perfectly
+contented and proud if you would give her the rights of a dog&mdash;the
+assured political rights of a yeller dog. She said 'yeller;' and I am
+bound on doin' her errent jest as she wanted me to, word for word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A dog, Dorlesky says, don't have to be hung if it breaks the laws it is
+not allowed any hand in making. A dog don't have to pay taxes on its bone
+to a Government that withholds every right of citizenship from it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A dog hain't called undogly if it is industrious, and hunts quietly round
+for its bone to the best of its ability, and wants to get its share of the
+crumbs that fall from that table that bills are laid on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A dog hain't preached to about its duty to keep home sweet and sacred,
+and then see that home turned into a place of torment under laws that
+these very preachers have made legal and respectable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A dog don't have to see its property taxed to advance laws that it
+believes ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the hearts of other
+dear dogs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A dog don't have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that deny
+it freedom and justice&mdash;about its bein' a damosk rose, and a
+seraphine, when it knows it hain't: it knows, if it knows any thing, that
+it is a dog.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, Dorlesky has been kinder embittered by her trials that politics,
+corrupt legislation, has brought right onto her. She didn't want nothin'
+to do with 'em; but they come right onto her unexpected and unbeknown, and
+she feels jest so. She feels she must do every thing she can to alter
+matters. She wants to help make the laws that have such a overpowerin'
+influence over her, herself. She believes from her soul that they can't be
+much worse than they be now, and may be a little better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! if Dorlesky wishes to influence political affairs, let her influence
+her children,&mdash;her boys,&mdash;and they will carry her benign and
+noble influence forward into the centuries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But the law has took her boy, her little boy and girl, away from her.
+Through the influence of the Whisky Ring, of which her husband was a
+shinin' member, he got possession of her boy. And so, the law has made it
+perfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him. What
+Dorlesky does, she must do herself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! A sad thing for Dorlesky. I trust that you have no grievance of the
+kind, I trust that your estimable husband is&mdash;as it were, estimable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Josiah Allen is a good man. As good as men <i>can</i> be. You know,
+men or wimmen either can't be only jest about so good anyway. But he is my
+choice, and he don't drink a drop.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pardon me, madam; but if you are happy, as you say, in your marriage
+relations, and your husband is a temperate, good man, why do you feel so
+upon this subject?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, good land! if you understand the nature of a woman, you would know
+that my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel about
+him, and our boy, makes me realize the sufferin's of Dorlesky in havin'
+her husband and boy lost to her, makes me realize the depth of a wive's,
+of a mother's, agony, when she sees the one she loves goin' down, goin'
+down so low that she can't reach him; makes me feel how she must yearn to
+help him in some safe, sure way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman's life
+is, the more does she feel for them who are less blessed than she. Highest
+love goes lowest, if need be. Witness the love that left Heaven, and
+descended onto the earth, and into it, that He might lift up the lowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The pityin' words of Him who went about pleasin' not himself, hants me,
+and inspires me. I am sorry for Dorlesky, sorry for the hull wimmen race
+of the nation&mdash;and for the men too. Lots of 'em are good creeters&mdash;better
+than wimmen, some on 'em. They want to do jest about right, but don't
+exactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times, some of the
+masters was more to be pitied than the slaves. They could see the
+injustice, feel the wrong, they was doin'; but old chains of custom bound
+'em, social customs and idees had hardened into habits of thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They realized the size and heft of the evil, but didn't know how to
+grapple with it, and throw it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So now, many men see the great evils of this time, want to help it, but
+don't know the best way to lay holt of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try to
+get the right answer to it as fur as we can. Dorlesky feels that one of
+the answers to the conundrum is in gettin' her rights. She feels jest so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I myself have got all the rights I need, or want, as fur as my own
+happiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half wooden
+one, but dear).
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give social
+happiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property enough,
+and more than enough, for all the comforts of life. And, above all other
+things, my Josiah is my love and my theme.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! yes!&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;Love is a woman's empire, and in that she should find
+her full content&mdash;her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman
+will not look outside of that lovely and safe and beautious empire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, &ldquo;If she hain't a idiot, she can't help it. Love is the most
+beautiful thing on earth, the most holy, the most satisfyin'. But which
+would you like best&mdash;I do not ask you as a politician, but as a human
+bein'&mdash;which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest,
+tender nature&mdash;for in man or woman, 'the strongest are the tenderest,
+the loving are the daring'&mdash;which would you like best, the love and
+respect of such a nature, full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite variety,
+or the love of a fool?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A fool's love is wearin': it is insipid at the best, and it turns to
+viniger. Why! sweetened water <i>must</i> turn to viniger: it is its
+nater. And, if a woman is bright and true-hearted, she can't help seem'
+through a injustice. She may be happy in her own home. Domestic affection,
+social enjoyments, the delights of a cultured home and society, and the
+companionship of the man she loves, and who loves her, will, if she is a
+true woman, satisfy fully her own personal needs and desires; and she
+would far rather, for her own selfish happiness, rest quietly in that love&mdash;that
+most blessed home.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But the bright, quick intellect that delights you, can't help seeing
+through an injustice, can't help seeing through shams of all kinds&mdash;sham
+sentiment, sham compliments, sham justice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The tender, lovin' nature that blesses your life, can't help feelin' pity
+for those less blessed than herself. She looks down through the
+love-guarded lattice of her home,&mdash;from which your care would fain
+bar out all sights of woe and squalor,&mdash;she looks down, and sees the
+weary toilers below, the hopeless, the wretched; she sees the steep hills
+they have to climb, carry in' their crosses; she sees 'em go down into the
+mire, dragged there by the love that should lift 'em up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would not be the woman you love, if she could restrain her hand from
+liftin' up the fallen, wipin' tears from weepin' eyes, speakin' brave
+words for them who can't speak for themselves.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The very strength of her affection that would hold you up, if you were in
+trouble or disgrace, yearns to help all sorrowin' hearts.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Down in your heart, you can't help admirin' her for this: we can't help
+respectin' the one who advocates the right, the true, even if they are our
+conquerors.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wimmen hain't angels: now, to be candid, you know they hain't. They
+hain't better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems curious
+to me, that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort to be more
+honest and open than wimmen. They hain't had to cajole and wheedle, and
+spile their natures, through little trickeries and deceits, and indirect
+ways, that wimmen has.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, cramp a tree-limb, and see if it will grow as straight and vigorous
+as it would in full freedom and sunshine.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Men ort to be nobler than wimmen, sincerer, braver. And they ort to be
+ashamed of this one trick of theirn; for they know they hain't honest in
+it, they hain't generous.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give wimmen 2 or 3 generations of moral freedom, and see if men will
+laugh at 'em for their little deceits and affectations.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler; and they will both come
+nearer bein' angels, though most probable they won't be angels: they won't
+be any too good then, I hain't a mite afraid of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He kinder sithed; and that sithe sort o' brought me down onto my feet agin
+(as it were), and a sense of my duty: and I spoke out agin,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you, and will you, do Dorlesky's errents?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0061" id="linkimage-0061"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/238.jpg" alt="The Weary Toilers of Life" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Wall, he said, &ldquo;as far as giving Dorlesky her rights was concerned, he
+felt that natural human instinct was against the change.&rdquo; He said, &ldquo;in
+savage races, who knew nothing of civilization, male force and strength
+always ruled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;History can't be disputed; and history tells of savage races
+where the wimmen always rule, though I don't think they ort to,&rdquo; says I:
+&ldquo;ability and goodness ort to rule.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nature is against it,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, &ldquo;Female bees, and lots of other insects, and animals,
+always have a female for queen and ruler. They rule blindly and entirely,
+right on through the centuries. But we are more enlightened, and should <i>not</i>
+encourage it. In my opinion, a male bee has jest as good a right to be
+monarch as his female companion has. That is,&rdquo; says I reasonably, &ldquo;if he
+knows as much, and is as good a calculator as she is. I love justice, I
+almost worship it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Agin he sithed; and says he, &ldquo;Modern history don't seem to encourage the
+skeme.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But his axent was weak, weak as a cat. He knew better.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;We won't argue long on that point, for I could overwhelm you if I
+approved of overwhelmin'. But I merely ask you to cast your right eye over
+into England, and then beyond it into France. Men have ruled exclusively
+in France for the last 40 or 50 years, and a woman in England: which realm
+has been the most peaceful and prosperous?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He sithed twice. And he bowed his head upon his breast, in a sad, almost
+meachin' way. I nearly pitied him, disagreable as he wuz. When all of a
+sudden he brightened up; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible is
+aginst the idee. The Bible teaches man's supremacy, man's absolute power
+and might and authority.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, how you talk!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Why, in the very first chapter, the Bible
+tells how man was jest turned right round by a woman. It teaches how she
+not only turned man right round to do as she wanted him to, but turned the
+hull world over.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That hain't nothin' I approve of: I don't speak of it because I like the
+idee. That wuzn't done in a open, honorable manner, as I believe things
+should be done. No: Eve ruled by indirect influence,&mdash;the 'gently
+influencing men' way, that politicians are so fond of. And she jest
+brought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it. A few years later,
+after men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen ruling Israel
+openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah, and other likely old 4 mothers,
+why, things went on better. They didn't act meachin', and tempt, and act
+indirect, I'll bet, or I wouldn't be afraid to bet, if I approved of
+bettin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He sithed powerful, and sot round oneasy in his chair. And says he, &ldquo;I
+thought wimmen was taught by the Bible to serve, and love their homes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they be. And every true woman loves to serve. Home is my supreme
+happiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin' them I
+love. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he faintly, &ldquo;the Old Testament may teach that wimmen has some
+strenth and power; but in the New Testament, you will find that in every
+great undertakin' and plan, men have been chosen by God to carry it
+through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why-ee!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;How you talk!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Have you ever read the Bible?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He said &ldquo;He had, his grandmother owned one. And he had seen it in early
+youth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he went on, sort o' apologizin', &ldquo;He had always meant to read it
+through. But he had entered political life at an early age, and he
+believed he had never read any more of it, only portions of Gulliver's
+Travels. He believed,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;he had read as far as Lilliputions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That hain't in the Bible,&mdash;you mean Gallatians.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that might be it. It was some man, he knew, and he had
+always heard and believed that man was the only worker God had chosen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;the one great theme of the New Testament,&mdash;the
+redemption of the world through the birth of the Christ,&mdash;no man had
+any thing to do with that whatever. Our divine Lord was born of God and
+woman.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called women
+into that work,&mdash;the divine work of helpin' a world.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire for a world's
+work of sufferin' and renunciation. The soft airs of Gallilee wrapped her
+about in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams in maiden
+peace, dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and quiet and happiness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy, innocent
+girlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin' to redeem a world
+from sin.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And did not this woman's love, and willin' obedience, and sufferin', and
+the shame of the world, set her apart, babtize her for this work of
+liftin' up the fallen, helpin' the weak?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it not a part of woman's life that she gave at the birth and the
+crucifixion?&mdash;her faith, her hope, her sufferin', her glow of divine
+pity and joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure
+heavenly, have they not for 1800 years been blessin' the world? The God in
+Christ would awe us too much: we would shield our faces from the too
+blindin' glare of the pure God-like. But the tender Christ, who wept over
+a sinful city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon the
+cross, to comfort his mother's heart, provide for her future&mdash;it is
+this element in our Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him, dare
+to kneel at His feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And since woman wus so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-worker
+with God in the beginnin' of a world's redemption; since He called her
+from the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace, into the blessed
+martyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin', all to help a world that
+cared nothing for her, that cried out shame upon her,&mdash;will He not
+help her to carry on the work that she helped commence? Will He not
+approve of her continuin' in it? Will He not protect her in it?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: she cannot be harmed, since His care is over her; and the cause she
+loves, the cause of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too, and God
+will take care of His own. Herods full of greed, and frightened
+selfishness, may try to break her heart, by efforts to kill the child she
+loves; but she will hold it so close to her bosom, that he can't destroy
+it. And the light of the divine will go before her, showin' the way she
+must go, over the desert, maybe; but she shall bear it into safety.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You spoke of Herod,&rdquo; says he dreamily. &ldquo;The name sounds familiar to me:
+was not Mr. Herod once in the United-States Congress?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;He died some years ago. But he has relatives there now, I
+think, judging from recent laws. You ask who Herod was; and, as it all
+seems to be a new story to you, I will tell you. That when the Saviour of
+the world was born in Bethlehem, and a woman was tryin' to save His life,
+a man by the name of Herod was tryin' his best, out of selfishness, and
+love of gain, to murder him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! that was not right in Herod.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;It hain't been called so. And what wuzn't right in him,
+hain't right in his relations, who are tryin' to do the same thing to-day.
+But,&rdquo; says I reasonably, &ldquo;because Herod was so mean, it hain't no sign
+that all men was mean. Joseph, now, was likely as he could be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joseph,&rdquo; says he pensively. &ldquo;Do you allude to our senator from
+Connecticut,&mdash;Joseph R. Hawley?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;He is likely, as likely can be, and is always on the
+right side of questions&mdash;middlin' handsome too. But I am talkin'
+Bible&mdash;I am talkin' about Joseph, jest plain Joseph, and nothin'
+else.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! I see I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed in
+politics, and political literature, I don't get any time to devote to less
+important publications.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I candidly, &ldquo;I knew you hadn't read it, I knew it the minute you
+mentioned the Book of Lilliputions. But, as I was a sayin', Joseph was a
+likely man. He did the very best he could with what he had to do with. He
+had the strength to lead the way, to overcome obsticles, to keep dangers
+from Mary, to protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his generous
+devotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0062" id="linkimage-0062"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/244.jpg" alt="Bearing the Baby Peace" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>But she carried the child on her bosom</i>. Pondering high things in
+her heart that Joseph had never dreamed of. That is what is wanted now,
+and in the future. The man and the woman walking side by side. He, a
+little ahead mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength and
+courage. She, a carryin' the infant Christ of love, bearin' the baby Peace
+in her bosom, carrying it into safety from them that seek to murder it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And, as I said before, if God called woman into this work, He will enable
+her to carry it through. He will protect her from her own weaknesses, and
+from the misapprehensions and hard judgments and injustices of a
+gain-saying world.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, the star of hope is rising in the sky, brighter and brighter; and
+the wise men are even now coming from afar over the desert, seeking
+diligently where this redeemer is to be found.&rdquo; He sot demute. He did not
+frame a reply: he had no frame, and I knew it. Silence rained for some
+time; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you do Dorlesky's errents? Will you give her her rights? And will
+you break the Whisky Ring?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He said he would love to do Dorlesky's errents. He said I had convinced
+him that it would be just and right to do 'em, but the Constitution of the
+United States stood up firm against 'em. As the laws of the United State
+wuz, he could not make any move towards doin' either of the errents.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Can't the laws be changed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be changed? Change the laws of the United States? Tamper with the
+glorious Constitution that our 4 fathers left us&mdash;an immortal, sacred
+legacy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He jumped right up on his feet, in his surprise, and kinder shook, as if
+he was skairt most to death, and tremblin' with borrow. He did it to skair
+me, I knew; and I wuz most skaird, I confess, he acted so horrowfied. But
+I knew I meant well towards the Constitution, and our old 4 fathers; and
+my principles stiddied me, and held me middlin' firm and serene. And when
+he asked me agin in tones full of awe and horrow,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can it be that I heard my ear aright? or did you speak of changing the
+unalterable laws of the United States&mdash;tampering with the
+Constitution?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Yes, that is what I said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh, how his body kinder shook, and how sort o' wild he looked out of his
+eyes at me!
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Hain't they never been changed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He dropped that skairful look in a minute, and put on a firm, judicial
+one. He gin up; he could not skair me to death: and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes! they have been changed in cases of necessity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;For instance, durin' the late war, it was changed to make
+Northern men cheap blood-hounds and hunters.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It seemed to be a case of necessity and econimy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Men was cheaper than any other breed of blood-hounds
+the planters had employed to hunt men and wimmen with, and more faithful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It was doubtless a case of clear econimy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And says I, &ldquo;The laws have been changed to benifit whisky-dealers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It had been changed to enable whisky-dealers to
+utelize the surplufus liquor they import.&rdquo; Says he, gettin' kinder
+animated, for he was on a congenial theme,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on how
+much whisky will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the
+whisky-dealers suffer loss, the laws had to be changed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0063" id="linkimage-0063"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/247.jpg" alt="A Case of Necessity" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then,&rdquo; says he, growin' still more candid in his excitement, &ldquo;we are
+makin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the tax off
+of whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greater
+quantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of the
+nation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and the
+laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male
+custodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron before
+it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be, faithful
+unto death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said I had
+convinced you that Dorlesky's errents wus errents of truth and justice,
+and you would love to do 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, yes, yes&mdash;I would love to&mdash;as it were&mdash;But really,
+my dear madam, much as I would like to oblige you, I have not the time to
+devote to it. We senators and Congressmen are so driven, and hard-worked,
+that really we have no time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I
+don't think you realize the constant pressure of hard work, that is ageing
+us, and wearing us out, before our day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I said, we have to watch the liquor-interest constantly, to see that
+the liquor-dealers suffer no loss&mdash;we <i>have</i> to do that. And
+then, we have to look sharp if we cut down the money for the Indian
+schools.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, in a sarcastick tone, &ldquo;I s'pose you worked hard for that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he, in a sort of a proud tone. &ldquo;We did, but we men don't
+begrudge labor if we can advance measures of economy. You see, it was
+taking sights of money just to Christianize and civilize Injuns&mdash;savages.
+Why, the idea was worse than useless, it wus perfectly ruinous to the
+Indian agents. For if, through those schools, the Indians had got to be
+self-supporting and intelligent and Christians, why, the agents couldn't
+buy their wives and daughters for a yard of calico, or get them drunk, and
+buy a horse for a glass bead, and a farm for a pocket lookin'-glass. Well,
+thank fortune, we carried that important measure through; we voted strong;
+we cut down the money anyway. And there is one revenue that is still
+accruing to the Government&mdash;or, as it were, the servants of
+Government, the agents. You see,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;don't you, just how important
+the subjects are, that are wearing down the Congressional and senatorial
+mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I sadly, &ldquo;I see a good deal more than I want to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, you see how hard-worked we are. With all the care of the North on
+our minds, we have to clean out all the creeks in the South, so the
+planters can have smooth sailing. But we think,&rdquo; says he dreamily, &ldquo;we
+think we have saved money enough out of the Indian schools, to clean out
+most of their creeks, and perhaps have a little left for a few New-York
+aldermen, to reward them for their arduous duties in drinking and voting
+for their constituents.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, there is the Mormons: we have to make soothing laws to sooth them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, there are the Chinese. When we send them back into heathendom, we
+ought to send in the ship with them, some appropriate biblical texts, and
+some mottoes emblematical of our national eagle protecting and clawing the
+different nations.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And when we send the Irish paupers back into poverty and ignorance, we
+ought to send in the same ship, some resolutions condemning England for
+her treatment of Ireland.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Most probable the Goddess of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, in
+New-York Harbor, will hold her torch up high, to light such ships on their
+way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said, &ldquo;Yes, he thought so.&rdquo; Says he, &ldquo;There is very important laws
+up before the House, now, about hens' eggs&mdash;counting them.&rdquo; And says
+he, &ldquo;Taking it with all those I have spoke of and other kindred laws, and
+the constant strain on our minds in trying to pass laws to increase our
+own salaries, you can see just how cramped we are for time. And though we
+would love to pass some laws of Truth and Righteousness,&mdash;we fairly
+ache to,&mdash;yet, not having the requisite time, we are obliged to lay
+'em on the table, or under it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I guess I might jest a well be a goin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I bid him a cool good-bye, and started for the door. I was discouraged;
+but he says as I went out,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mebby William Wallace will do the errent for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I coldly,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;William Wallace is dead, and you know it.&rdquo; And says I with a real lot of
+dignity, &ldquo;You needn't try to impose on me, or Dorlesky's errent, by tryin'
+to send me round amongst them old Scottish chiefs. I respect them old
+chiefs, and always did; and I don't relish any light talk about 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;This is another William Wallace; and very probable he can do the
+errent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I will send the errent to him by Bub Smith; for I am wore
+out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As I wended, my way out of Mr. Blains'es, I met the hired man, Bub Smith's
+friend; and he asked me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I didn't want to visit the Capitol?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Where the laws of the United States are made?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told him &ldquo;that I was very weary, but I would fain behold it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said he was going right by there on business, and he would be glad
+to show it to me. So we walked along in that direction.
+</p>
+<p>
+It seems that Bub Smith saved the life of his little sister&mdash;jumped
+off into the water when she was most drowned, and dragged her out. And
+from that time the two families have thought the world of each other. That
+is what made him so awful good to me.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I found the Capitol was a sight to behold! Why, it beat any buildin'
+in Jonesville, or Loontown, or Spoon Settlement in beauty and size and
+grandeur. There hain't one that can come nigh it. Why, take all the
+meetin'-housen of these various places, and put 'em all together, and put
+several other meetin'-housen on top of 'em, and they wouldn't begin to
+show off with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, oh! my land! to stand in the hall below, and look up&mdash;and up&mdash;and
+up&mdash;and see all the colors of the rainbow, and see what kinder
+curious and strange pictures there wuz way up there in the sky above me
+(as it were). Why, it seemed curiouser than any Northern lights I ever see
+in my life, and they stream up dretful curious sometimes.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as I walked through the various lofty and magnificent halls, and
+realized the size and majestic proportions of the buildin', I wondered to
+myself that a small law, a little, unjust law, could ever be passed in
+such a magnificent place.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0064" id="linkimage-0064"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/252.jpg" alt="Samantha Viewing the Capitol" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Says I to myself, &ldquo;It can't be the fault of the place, anyway. They have
+got a chance for their souls to soar if they want to.&rdquo; Thinks'es I, here
+is room and to spare, to pass by laws big as elephants and camels. And I
+wondered to myself that they should ever try to pass laws and resolutions
+as small as muskeeters and nats. Thinks'es I, I wonder them little laws
+don't get to strollin' round and get lost in them magnificent corriders.
+But I consoled myself a thinkin' that it wouldn't be no great loss if they
+did.
+</p>
+<p>
+But right here, as I was a thinkin' on these deep and lofty subjects, the
+hired man spoke up; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You look fatigued, mom.&rdquo; (Soarin' even to yourself, is tuckerin'.) &ldquo;You
+look very fatigued: won't you take something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I looked at him with a curious, silent sort of a look; for I didn't know
+what he meant.
+</p>
+<p>
+Agin he looked close at me, and sort o' pityin'; and says he, &ldquo;You look
+tired out, mom. Won't you take something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;Let me treat you to something: what will you take, mom?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, I thought he was actin' dretful liberal; but I knew they had strange
+ways there in Washington, anyway. And I didn't know but it was their way
+to make some presents to every woman who come there: and I didn't want to
+be odd, and act awkward, and out of style; so I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't want to take any thing, and I don't see any reason why you should
+insist on it. But, if I have got to take something I had jest as lives
+have a few yards of factory-cloth as any thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I thought, if he was determined to treat me, to show his good feelin's
+towards me, I would get somethin' useful, and that would do me some good,
+else what would be the use of bein' treated? And I thought, if I had got
+to take a present from a strange man, I would make a shirt for Josiah out
+of it: I thought that would make it all right, so fur as goodness went.
+</p>
+<p>
+But says he, &ldquo;I mean beer, or wine, or liquor of some kind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I jest riz right up in my shoes and my dignity, and glared at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;There is a saloon right here handy in the buildin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, in awful axents, &ldquo;It is very appropriate to have it right here
+handy.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Liquor does more towards makin' the laws of the United
+States, from caucus to convention, than any thing else does; and it is
+highly proper to have some liquor here handy, so they can soak the laws in
+it right off, before they lay 'em onto the tables, or under 'em, or pass
+'em onto the people. It is highly appropriate,&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;It is very handy for the senators. And let me get you a
+glass.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, you won't,&rdquo; says I firmly, &ldquo;no, you won't. The nation suffers enough
+from that room now, without havin' Josiah Allen's wife let in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he (his friendship for Bub Smith makin' him anxious and sot on
+helpin' me), &ldquo;If you have any feeling of delicacy in going in there, let
+me make some wine here. I will get a glass of water, and make you some
+pure grape wine, or French brandy, or corn or rye whiskey. I have all the
+drugs right here.&rdquo; And he took out a little box out of his pocket. &ldquo;My
+father is a importer of rare old wines, and I know just how it is done. I
+have 'em all here,&mdash;capiscum, coculus Indicus, alum, coperas,
+strychnine. I will make some of the choicest and purest imported liquors
+we have in the country, in five minutes, if you say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0065" id="linkimage-0065"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/255.jpg" alt="Samantha Refusing to Be Treated." width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I firmly. &ldquo;When I want to follow up Cleopatra's fashion, and
+commit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison as
+she did, on the outside.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cleopatra?&rdquo; says he inquiringly. &ldquo;Is she a Washington lady?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says guardedly, &ldquo;She has lots of relations here, I believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;he thought her name sounded familiar. Then, I can't do
+any thing for you?&rdquo; he says.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I calmly: &ldquo;you can open the front door, and let me out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Which he did, and I was glad enough to get out into the pure air.
+</p>
+<p>
+When I got back to the house, I found they had been to supper. Sally had
+had company that afternoon,&mdash;her husband's brother. He had jest left.
+</p>
+<p>
+He lived only a few miles away, and had come in on the cars. Sally said he
+wanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some deep
+arguments aginst wimmen's suffrage. Says she, &ldquo;He talks powerful about it:
+he would have convinced you, without a doubt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;why didn't he stay?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She said he had to hurry home on account of business. He had come in to
+the village, to get some money. There was goin' to be a lot of men,
+wimmen, and children sold in his neighborhood the next mornin', and he
+thought he should buy a girl, if he could find a likely one.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sold?&rdquo; says I, in curious axents.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says Sally. &ldquo;They sell the inmates of the poor-house, every year,
+to the highest bidder,&mdash;sell their labor by the year. They have 'em
+get up on a auction block, and hire a auctioneer, and sell 'em at so much
+a head, to the crowd. Why, some of 'em bring as high as twenty dollars a
+year, besides board.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0066" id="linkimage-0066"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/257.jpg" alt="Buying Time" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sometimes, he said, there was quite a run on old wimmen, and another year
+on young ones. He didn't know but he might buy a old woman. He said there
+was an old woman that he thought there was a good deal of work in, yet.
+She had belonged to one of the first families in the State, and had come
+down to poverty late in life, through the death of some of her relations,
+and the villany of others. So he thought she had more strength in her than
+if she had always been worked. He thought, if she didn't fetch too big a
+price, he should buy her instead of a young one. They was so balky, he
+said, young ones was, and would need more to eat, bein' growin'. And she
+could do rough, heavy work, just as well as a younger one, and probably
+wouldn't complain so much; and he thought she would last a year, anyway.
+It was his way, he said, to put 'em right through, and, when one wore out,
+get another one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed; and says I, &ldquo;I feel to lament that I wuzn't here so's he could
+have converted me.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;A race of bein's, that make such laws as
+these, hadn't ort to be disturbed by wimmen meddlin' with 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: that is what he said,&rdquo; says Sally, in a innocent way.
+</p>
+<p>
+I didn't say no more. Good land! Sally hain't to blame. But with a noble
+scorn filling my eye, and floating out the strings of my head-dress, I
+moved off to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, the next mornin' I sent Dorlesky's errents by Bub Smith to William
+Wallace, for I felt a good deal fagged out. Bub did 'em well, and I know
+it.
+</p>
+<p>
+But William Wallace sent him to Gen. Logan.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Gen. Logan said Grover Cleveland was the one to go to: he wuz a sot
+man, and would do as he agreed. And Mr. Cleveland sent him to Mr. Edmunds.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Edmunds told him to go to Samuel G. Tilden, or Roswell P. Flower.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Flower sent him to William Walter Phelps.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Phelps said that Benjamin P. Butler or Mr. Bayard was the one to
+do the errent.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Mr. Bayard sent him to somebody else, and somebody else sent him to
+another one. And so it went on; and Bub Smith traipsed round, a carryin'
+them errents, from one man to another, till he was most dead.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, he carried them errents round all day, walkin' afoot.
+</p>
+<p>
+Bub said most every one of 'em said the errents wuz just and right, but
+they couldn't do 'em, and wouldn't tell their reasons.
+</p>
+<p>
+One or two, Bub said, opposed it, because they said right out plain, &ldquo;that
+they wanted to drink. They wanted to drink every thing they could, and
+everywhere they could,&mdash;hard cider and beer, and brandy and whisky,
+and every thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And they didn't want wimmen to vote, because they liked to have the power
+in their own hands: they loved to control things, and kinder boss round&mdash;loved
+to dearly.
+</p>
+<p>
+These was open-hearted men who spoke as they felt. But they was
+exceptions. Most every one of 'em said they couldn't do it, and wouldn't
+tell their reasons.
+</p>
+<p>
+Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein' a
+little in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the reasons
+why the senators wouldn't do the errents.
+</p>
+<p>
+He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was right
+and just, to their own souls and their own country. He said&mdash;for the
+liquor had made him <i>very</i> open-hearted and talkative&mdash;that they
+knew the course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime
+against God and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle
+unpopular subjects.
+</p>
+<p>
+He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them, and
+they knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of thousands
+and thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for 'em from
+morn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And if wimmen
+was allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as breaking the
+ring right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though they knew that
+both the errents was jest as right as right could be, they dassent tackle
+'em, for fear they wouldn't run no chance at all of bein' President of the
+United States.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good land!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;What a idee! to think that doin' right would make a
+man unpopular. But,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I am glad to know they have got a reason, if
+it is a poor one. I didn't know but they sent you round jest to be mean.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, the next mornin' I told Bub to carry the errents right into the
+Senate. Says I, &ldquo;You have took 'em one by one, alone, now you jest carry
+'em before the hull batch on 'em together.&rdquo; I told him to tackle the hull
+crew on 'em. So he jest walked right into the Senate, a carryin'
+Dorlesky's errents.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he come back skairt. He said, jest as he was a carryin' Dorlesky's
+errents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen on
+this very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful, to
+the lawmakers of the land.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, and
+called it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you ever
+heard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted so
+haughty and overbearin' towards it, that Bub said he was afraid to tackle
+'em. He said &ldquo;he knew they would throw Dorlesky's errents under the table,
+and he was afraid they would throw him under too.&rdquo; He was afraid&mdash;(he
+owned it up to me)&mdash;he was afraid they would knock him down. So he
+backed out with Dorlesky's errents, and never give it to 'em at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told him he did right. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if they wouldn't listen to
+the deepest, most earnest, and most prayerful words that could come from
+the hearts of thousands and tens of thousands of the best mothers and
+wives and daughters in America, the most intelligent and upright and
+pure-minded women in the land, loaded down with their hopes, wet with
+their tears&mdash;if they turned their hearts', prayers and deepest
+desires into ridicule, throwed 'em round under their feet, they wouldn't
+pay no attention to Dorlesky's errents, they wouldn't notice one little
+vegitable widow, humbly at that, and sort o' disagreeable.&rdquo; And says I, &ldquo;I
+don't want Dorlesky's errents throwed round under foot, and she made fun
+of: she has went through enough trials and tribulations, besides these
+gentlemen&mdash;or,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I beg pardon of Webster's Dictionary: I
+meant men.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For,&rdquo; as I said to Webster's Dictionary in confidence, in a quiet thought
+we had about it afterwards, &ldquo;they might be gentlemen in every other place
+on earth; but in this one move of theirn,&rdquo; as I observed confidentially to
+the Dictionary, &ldquo;they was jest <i>men</i>&mdash;the male animal of the
+human species.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I was ashamed enough as I looked Noah Webster's steel engraving in the
+face, to think I had misspoke myself, and called 'em gentlemen.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0067" id="linkimage-0067"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/262.jpg" alt="How Woman's Prayers Are Answered" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Wall, from that minute I gin up doin' Dorlesky's errents. And I felt like
+death about it. But this thought held me up,&mdash;that I had done my
+best. But I didn't feel like doin' another thing all the rest of that day,
+only jest feel disapinted and grieved over my bad luck with the errents. I
+always think it is best, if you can possibly arrainge it in that way, to
+give up one day, or half a day, to feelin' bad over any perticuler
+disapintment, or to worry about any thing, and do all your worryin' up in
+that time, and then give it up for good, and go to feelin' happy agin. It
+is also best, if you have had a hull lot of things to get mad about, to
+set apart half a day, when you can spare the time, and do up all your
+resentin' in that time. It is easier, and takes less time than to keep
+resentin' 'em as they take place; and you can feel clever quicker than in
+the common way.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I felt dretful bad for Dorlesky and the hull wimmen race of the
+land, and for the men too. And I kep' up my bad feelin's till pretty nigh
+dusk. But as I see the sun go down, and the sky grow dark, I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are goin' down now, but you are a comin' up agin. As sure as the Lord
+lives, the sun will shine agin; and He who holds you in His hand, holds
+the destinies of the nations. He will watch over you, and me and Josiah,
+and Dorlesky. He will help us, and take care of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So I begun to feel real well agin&mdash;a little after dusk.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VIII.
+</h2>
+<p>
+The next morning Cicely wuzn't able to leave her room,&mdash;no sick
+seemin'ly, but fagged out. She was a delicate little creeter always, and
+seemed to grow delicater every day.
+</p>
+<p>
+So Miss Smith went with me, and she and I sallied out alone: her name
+bein' Sally, too, made it seem more singuler and coincidin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+She asked me if I didn't want to go to the Patent Office.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told her, &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; And I told her of Betsy Bobbet's errent, and that
+Josiah had charged me expresly to go there, and get him a patent pail. He
+needed a new milk-pail, and thought I could get it cheaper right on the
+spot.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she said that Josiah couldn't buy his pail there. But she told me what
+sights and sights of things there wus to be seen there; and I found out
+when I got there, that she hadn't told me the 1/2 or the 1/4 of the sights
+I see.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, I could pass a month there in perfect destraction and happiness, the
+sights are so numerous, and exceedingly destractin' and curious.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I told Sally Smith plainly, that I wasn't half so much interested in
+apple-parers and snow-plows, and the first sewin'-machine and the last
+one, and steam-engines and hair-pins and pianos and thimbles, and the
+acres and acres of glass cases containing every thing that wus ever heard
+of, and every thing that never wus heard of by anybody, and etcetery,
+etcetery, and so 4th, and so 4th. And you might string them words out over
+choirs and choirs of paper, and not get half an idee of what is to be seen
+there.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I told her I didn't feel half so interested in them things as I did in
+the copyright. I told Sally plain &ldquo;that I wanted to see the place where
+the copyrights on books was made. And I wanted to see the man who made
+'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she asked me &ldquo;Why? What made me so anxious?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I told her &ldquo;the law was so curious, that I believed it would be the
+curiousest place, and he would be the curiousest lookin' creeter, that wuz
+ever seen.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I'll bet it will be better than a circus to see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But it wuzn't. He looked jest like any man. And he had a sort of a smart
+look onto him. Sally said &ldquo;it was one of the clerks,&rdquo; but I don't believe
+a word of it. I believe it was the man himself, who made the law; for, as
+in all other emergincies of life, I follered Duty, and asked him &ldquo;to
+change the law instantly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he as good as promised me he would.
+</p>
+<p>
+I talked deep to him about it, but short. I told him Josiah had bought a
+mair, and he expected to own it till he or the mair died. He didn't expect
+to give up his right to it, and let the mair canter off free at a stated
+time.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0068" id="linkimage-0068"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/266.jpg" alt="Samantha and Sally in the Patent Office." width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And he asked me &ldquo;Who Josiah was?&rdquo; and I told him.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told him that &ldquo;Josiah's farm run along one side of a pond; and if
+one of his sheep got over on the other side, it was sheep jest the same,
+and it was hisen jest the same: he didn't lose the right to it, because it
+happened to cross the pond.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;There would be better laws regarding copyright, if it wuzn't for
+selfishness on both sides of the pond.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;selfishness don't pay in the long-run.&rdquo; And then,
+thinkin' mebby if I made myself agreable and entertainin', he would change
+the law quicker, I made a effort, and related a little interestin'
+incident that I had seen take place jest before my former departure from
+Jonesville, on a tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, selfishness don't pay. I have seen it tried, and I know. Now, Bildad
+Henzy married a wife on a speculation. She was a one-legged woman. He was
+attached at the time to a woman with the usual number of feet; but he was
+so close a calculator, that he thought it would be money in his pocket to
+marry this one, for he wouldn't have to buy but one shoe and stockin'. But
+she had to jump round on that one foot, and step heavy; so she wore out
+more shoes than she would if she was two-footed.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Selfishness
+don't pay in private life or in politics.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;He thought jest so,&rdquo; and he jest about the same as promised
+me he would change the law.
+</p>
+<p>
+I hope he will. It makes me feel so strange every time I think out, as
+strange as strange can be.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, I told Sally after we went out, and I spoke about &ldquo;the man lookin'
+human, and jest like anybody else;&rdquo; and she said &ldquo;it was a clerk;&rdquo; and I
+said &ldquo;I knew better, I knew it was the man himself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And says I agin, &ldquo;It beats all, how anybody in human shape can make such a
+law as that copyright law.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she said &ldquo;that was so.&rdquo; But I knew by her mean, that she didn't
+understand a thing about it; and I knew it would make me so sort o'
+light-headed and vacant if I went to explain it to her, that I never said
+a word, and fell in at once with her proposal that we should go and see
+the Treasury, and the Corcoran Art Gallery, and the Smithsonian Institute,
+one at a time.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I found the Treasury wuz a sight to behold. Such sights and sights of
+money they are makin' there, and a countin'. Why, I s'pose they make more
+money there in a week, than Josiah and I spend in a year.
+</p>
+<p>
+I s'pose most probable they made it a little faster, and more of it, on
+account of my bein' there. But they have sights and sights of it. They are
+dretful well off.
+</p>
+<p>
+I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too,&mdash;I hain't one of the
+underhanded kind,&mdash;I asked her, &ldquo;If she s'posed they'd let us take
+hold and make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin'
+over with it, there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she said, &ldquo;No, private citizens couldn't do that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Who can?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She kinder whispered back in a skairt way, sunthin' about &ldquo;speculators and
+legislators and rings, and etcetery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I answered right out loud,&mdash;I hain't one to go whisperin' round,&mdash;and
+says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had for
+him, he'd hand out a few dollars of his own accord for me to get sunthin'
+to remember him by. Howsumever, I don't need nor want any of his money. I
+hain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over fourteen dollars by
+me, at this present time, egg-money.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But it was a sight to behold, to see 'em make it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, as we stood out on the sidewalk agin, the Smithsonian Institute
+passed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery passed through
+it, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em pass; and I says
+to Sally,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us go at once and see the man that makes the public schools.&rdquo; Says I,
+&ldquo;There is a man that I honor, and almost love.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she said she didn't know who it wuz.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I think it was the lamb that she had in a bakin', that drew her back
+towards home. She owned up that her hired girl didn't baste it enough.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she seemed oneasy.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I stood firm, and says, &ldquo;I shall see that man, lamb or no lamb.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then Sally give in. And she found him easy enough. She knew all the
+time, it was the sheep that hampered her.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, oh! I s'pose it was a sight to be remembered, to see my talk to that
+man. I s'pose, if it had been printed, it would have made a beautiful
+track&mdash;and lengthy.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, he looked fairly exhausted and cross before I got half through, I
+talked so smart (eloquence is tuckerin').
+</p>
+<p>
+I told him how our public schools was the hope of the nation. How they
+neutralized to a certain extent the other schools the nation allowed to
+the public,&mdash;the grog-shops, and other licensed places of ruin. I
+told him how pretty it looked to me to see Civilization a marchin' along
+from the Atlantic towards the Pacific, with a spellin'-book in one hand,
+and in the other the rosy, which she was a plantin' in place of the briars
+and brambles.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told him how highly I approved of compulsory education.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if anybody is a drowndin', you don't ask their consent to
+be drawed out of the water, you jest jump in, and yank 'em out. And when
+you see poor little ones, a sinkin' down in the deep waters of ignorance
+and brutality, why, jest let Uncle Sam reach right down, and draw 'em
+out.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I'll bet that is why he is pictered as havin' such long
+arms for, and long legs too,&mdash;so he can wade in if the water is deep,
+and they are too fur from the shore for his arms to reach.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And says I, &ldquo;In the case of the little Indian, and other colored children,
+he'll need the legs of a stork, the water is so deep round 'em. But he'll
+reach 'em, Uncle Sam will. He'll lift 'em right up in his long arms, and
+set 'em safe on the pleasant shore. You'll see that he will. Uncle Sam is
+a man of a thousand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;How much it wus like him, to pass that law for children to be
+learnt jest what whisky is, and what it will do. Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;in that
+very law Christianity has took a longer stride than she could take by
+millions of sermons, all divided off into tenthlies and twentiethlies.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Why, I s'pose I talked perfectly beautiful to that man: I s'pose so.
+</p>
+<p>
+And if he hadn't had a sudden engagement to go out, I should have talked
+longer. But I see his engagement wus a wearin' on him. His eyes looked
+fairly wild. I only give a bald idee of what I said. I have only give the
+heads of my discussion to him, jest the bald heads.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, after we left there, I told Sally I felt as if I must go and see the
+Peace Commission. I felt as if I must make some arrangements with 'em to
+not have any more wars. As I told Sally, &ldquo;We might jest as well call
+ourselves Injuns and savages at once, if we had to keep up this most
+savage and brutal trait of theirn.&rdquo; Says I firmly, &ldquo;I <i>must</i>, before
+I go back to Jonesville, tend to it.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I didn't come here for
+fashion, or dry-goods; though I s'pose lots of both of 'em are to be got
+here.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I may tend to one or two fashionable parties, or levys as
+I s'pose they call 'em here. I may go to 'em ruther than hurt the feelin's
+of the upper 10. I want to do right: I don't want to hurt the feelin's of
+them 10. They have hearts, and they are sensitive. I don't think I have
+ever took to them 10, as much as I have to some others; but I wish 'em
+well.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I s'pose you see as grand and curious people to their parties here,
+as you can see together in any other place on the globe.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I s'pose it is a sight to behold, to see 'em together. To see them, as
+the poet says, 'To the manner born,' and them that wasn't born in the same
+manor, but tryin' to act as if they was. Wealth and display, natural
+courtesy and refinement, walkin' side by side with pretentius vulgarity,
+and mebby poverty bringin' up the rear. Genius and folly, honesty and
+affectation, gentleness and sweetness, and brazen impudence, and hatred
+and malice, and envy and uncharitableness. All languages and peoples under
+the sun, and differing more than stars ever did, one from another.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0069" id="linkimage-0069"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/272.jpg" alt="Samantha at the President's Reception." width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what makes it more curious and mysterius is, the way they dress, some
+on 'em. Why, they say&mdash;it has come right straight to me by them that
+know&mdash;that the ladies wear what they call full dress; and the strange
+and mysterius part of it is, that the fuller the dress is, the less they
+have on 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is a deep subject, and queer; and I don't s'pose you will take my
+word for it, and I don't want you to. But I have been <i>told</i> so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, I s'pose them upper 10 have their hands full, their 20 hands
+completely full. I fairly pity 'em&mdash;the hull 10 of 'em. They want me,
+and they need me, I s'pose, and I must tend to some of 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I did calculate to pay some attention to
+store-clothes. I did want to get me a new calico dress,&mdash;London brown
+with a set flower on it. But I can do without that dress, and the upper 10
+can do without me, better than the Nation can do without Peace.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I felt as if I must tend to it: I fairly hankered to do away with war,
+immejiately and to once. But I knew right was right, and I felt that Sally
+ort to be let to tend to her lamb; so Sally and I sallied homewards.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the hired girl had tended to it well. It wus good&mdash;very good.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IX.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Wall, the next mornin' Cicely wus better, and we sot sail for Mount
+Vernon. It was about ten o'clock A.M. when I, accompanied by Cicely and
+the boy, sot sail from Washington, D.C., to perform about the ostensible
+reason of my tower,&mdash;to weep on the tomb of the noble G. Washington.
+</p>
+<p>
+My intentions had been and wuz, to weep for him on my tower. I had come
+prepared. 2 linen handkerchiefs and a large cotton one reposed in the
+pocket of my polenay, and I had on my new waterproof. I never do things by
+the 1/2s.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a beautiful seen, as we floated down the still river, to look back
+and see the Capitol risin' white and fair like a dream, the glitterin'
+snow of the monument, and the green heights, all bathed in the glory of
+that perfect May mornin'. It wuz a fair seen.
+</p>
+<p>
+Happy groups of people sot on the peaceful decks,&mdash;stately gentlemen,
+handsome ladies, and pretty children. And in one corner, off kinder by
+themselves, sot that band of dusky singers, whose songs have delighted the
+world. Modest, good-lookin' dark girls, manly, honest-lookin' dark boys.
+</p>
+<p>
+Only a few short years ago this black people was drove about like dumb
+cattle,&mdash;bought and sold, hunted by blood-hounds; the wimmen hunted
+to infamy and ruin, the men to torture and to death. The wimmen denied the
+first right of womanhood, to keep themselves pure. The men denied the
+first right of manhood, to protect the ones they loved. Deprived legally
+of purity and honor, and all the rights of commonest humanity&mdash;worn
+with unpaid toil, beaten, whipped, tortured, dispised and rejected of men.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0070" id="linkimage-0070"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/275.jpg" alt="Going to Mount Vernon" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Now, a few short years have passed over this dark race, and these children
+of slaves that I looked upon have been guests of the proudest and noblest
+in this and in foreign lands. Hands that hold the destinies of mighty
+empires have clasped theirs in frankest friendship, and crowned heads have
+bowed low before 'em to hide the tears their sweet voices have called
+forth. What feelin's I felt as I looked on 'em! and my soul burned inside
+of me, almost to the extent of settin' my polenay on fire, a thinkin' of
+all this.
+</p>
+<p>
+And pretty soon, right when I was a reveryin'&mdash;right there, when we
+wuz a floatin' clown the still waters, their voices riz up in one of their
+inspired songs. They sung about their &ldquo;Hard Trials,&rdquo; and how the &ldquo;Sweet
+Chariot swung low,&rdquo; and how they had &ldquo;Been Redeemed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I declare for't, as I listened to 'em, there wuzn't a dry eye in my
+head; and I wet every one of them 3 handkerchiefs that I had calculated to
+mourn for G. Washington on, wet as sop. But I didn't care. I knew that
+George had rather not be mourned for on dry handkerchiefs, than that I
+should stent myself in emotions in such a time as this. He loved Liberty
+himself, and fit for it. And anyway, I didn't sense what I was a doin',
+not a mite. I took out them handkerchiefs entirely unbeknown to me, and
+put 'em back unbeknown.
+</p>
+<p>
+The words of them songs hain't got hardly any sense, as we earthly bein's
+count sense; there are scores of great singers, whose trained voices are a
+hundred-fold more melodious: but these simple strains move us, thrill us;
+they jest get right inside of our hearts and souls, and take full
+possession of us.
+</p>
+<p>
+It seems as if nothin' human of so little importance could so move us. Is
+it God's voice that speaks to us through them? Is it His Spirit that lifts
+us up, sways us to and fro, that blows upon us, as we listen to their
+voices? The Spirit that come down to cheer them broken hearts, lift them
+up in their captivity, does it now sway and melt the hearts of their
+captors? We read of One who watches over His sorrowing, wronged people,
+givin' them &ldquo;songs in the night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Anon, or nearly at that time, a silver bell struck out a sweet sort of a
+mournful note; and we jest stood right in towards the shore, and
+disembarked from the bark.
+</p>
+<p>
+We clomb the long hill, and stood on top, with powerful emotions (but
+little or no breath); stood before the iron bars that guarded the tomb of
+George Washington, and Martha his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+I looked at the marble coffin that tried to hold George, and felt how vain
+it wuz to think that any tomb could hold him. That peaceful, tree-covered
+hill couldn't hold his tomb. Why, it wuz lifted up in every land that
+loved freedom. The hull liberty-lovin' earth wuz his tomb and his
+monument.
+</p>
+<p>
+And that great river flowin' on and on at his feet&mdash;as long as that
+river rolls, George Washington shall float on it, he and his faithful
+Martha. It shall bear him to the sea and the ocian, and abroad to every
+land.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh! what feelin's I felt as I stood there a reveryin', my body still, but
+my mind proudly soarin'! To think, he wuz our Washington, and that time
+couldn't kill him. For he shall walk through the long centuries to come.
+He shall bear to the high chamber of prince and ruler, memories that shall
+blossom into deeds, awaken souls, rouse powers that shall never die, that
+shall scatter blessings over lands afar, strike the fetters from slave and
+serf.
+</p>
+<p>
+The hands they folded over his peaceful breast so many years ago, are not
+lying there in that marble coffin: the calm blue eyes closed so many years
+ago, are still lookin' into souls. Those hands lift the low walls of the
+poor boy's chamber, as he reads of victory over tyranny, of conquerin'
+discouragement and defeat.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0071" id="linkimage-0071"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/278.jpg" alt="Before the Tomb of Washington" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+The low walls fade away; the dusky rafters part to admit the infinite,
+infinite longin's to do and dare, infinite resolves to emulate those deeds
+of valor and heroism. How the calm blue eyes look down into the boy's
+impassioned soul, how the shadowy hands beckon him upward, up the rocky
+heights of noble endeavor, noble deeds! How the inspiration of this life,
+these deeds of might and valor, nerve the young heart for future strivings
+for freedom and justice and truth!
+</p>
+<p>
+Is it not a blessed thing to thus live on forever in true, eager hearts,
+to nerve the hero's arm, to inspire deeds of courage and daring? The weary
+body may rest; but to do this, is surely not to die; no, it is to live, to
+be immortal, to thus become the beating heart, the living, struggling,
+daring soul of the future.
+</p>
+<p>
+And right while I was thinkin' these thoughts, and lookin' off over the
+still landscape, the peaceful waters, this band of dark singers stood with
+reverent faces and uncovered heads, and begun singin' one of their
+sweetest melodies,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He rose, he rose, he rose from the dead.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Oh! as them inspired, hantin' notes rose through the soft, listenin' air,
+and hanted me, walked right round inside my heart and soul, and inspired
+me&mdash;why! how many emotions I did have,&mdash;more'n 85 a minute right
+along!
+</p>
+<p>
+As I thought of how many times since the asscension of our Lord, tombs
+have opened, and the dead come forth alive; how Faith and Justice will
+triumph in the end; how you can't bury 'em deep enough, or roll a stun big
+enough and hard enough before the door, but what, in some calm mornin',
+the earliest watcher shall see a tall, fair angel standin' where the dead
+has lain, bearin' the message of the risen Lord, &ldquo;He rose from the dead.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I thought how George W. and our other old 4 fathers thought in the long,
+toilsome, weary hours before the dawnin', that fair Freedom was dead; but
+she rose, she rose.
+</p>
+<p>
+I thought how the dusky race whose sweet songs was a floatin' round the
+grave of him who loved freedom, and gave his life for it; I thought how,
+durin' the dreary time when they was captives in a strange land, chained,
+scourged, and tortured, how they thought, through this long, long night of
+years, that Justice was dead, and Mercy and Pity and Righteousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+But there come a glorious mornin' when fathers and mothers clasped their
+children in their arms, their own once more, in arms that was their own,
+to labor and protect, and they sung together of Freedom and Right, how
+though they wuz buried deep, and the night wuz long, and the watchers by
+the tomb weary, weary unto death, yet they rose, they rose from the dead.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then I thought of the tombs that darken our land to-day, where the
+murdered, the legally murdered, lay buried. I thought of the graves more
+hopeless fur than them that entomb the dead,&mdash;the graves where lay
+the livin' dead. Dead souls bound to still breathin' bodies, dead hopes,
+ambitions, dead dreams of usefulness and respectability, happiness, dead
+purity, faith, honor, dead, all dead, all bound to the still breathin'
+body, by the festerin', putrid death-robes of helplessness and despair.
+</p>
+<p>
+There they lie chained to their dark tombs by links slight at first, but
+twisted by the hard old fingers of blind habit, to chains of iron, chains
+linked about, and eatin' into, not only the quiverin' flesh, but the
+frenzied brains, the hope less hearts, the ruined souls.
+</p>
+<p>
+Heavy, hopeless-lookin' vaults they are indeed, whose air is putrid with
+the sickenin' miasma of moral loathsomness and deseese; whose walls are
+painted with hideous pictures of murder, rapine, lust, starvation, woe,
+and despair, earthly and eternal ruin. Shapes of the dreadful past, the
+hopeless future, that these livin' dead stare upon with broodin' frenzy by
+night and by day.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh the tombs, the countless, countless tombs, where lie these breathin'
+corpses! How mothers weep over them! how wives kneel, and beat their
+hearts out on the rocky barriers that separate them from their hearts'
+love, their hearts' desire! How little starvin', naked children cower in
+their ghostly shadows through dark midnights! How fathers weep for their
+children, dead to them, dead to honor, to shame, to humanity! How the
+cries of the mourners ascend to the sweet heavens!
+</p>
+<p>
+And less peaceful than the graves of the departed, these tombs themselves
+are full of the hopeless cries of the entombed, praying for help, praying
+for some strong hand to reach down and lift them out of their reeking,
+polluted, living death.
+</p>
+<p>
+The whole of our fair land is covered with jest such graves: its turf is
+tread down by the footprints of the mourners who go about the streets.
+They pray, they weep: the night is long, is long. But the morning will
+dawn at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the women,&mdash;daughters, wives, mothers,&mdash;who kneel with
+clasped hands beside the tombs, heaviest-eyed, deepest mourners, because
+most helpless. Lift up your heavy eyes: the sun is even now rising, that
+shall gild the sky at last. The mornin' light is even now dawnin' in the
+east. It shall fall first upon your uplifted brows, your prayerful eyes.
+Most blessed of God, because you loved most, sorrowed most. To you shall
+it be given to behold first the tall, fair angel of Resurection and
+Redemption, standin' at the grave's mouth. Into your hands shall be put
+the key to unlock the heavy doors, where your loved has lain.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dead shall rise. Temperance and Justice and Liberty shall rise. They
+shall go forth to bless our fair land. And purified and enobled, it shall
+be the best beloved, the fairest land of God beneath the sun. Refuge of
+the oppressed and tempted, inspiration of the hopeless, light of the
+world.
+</p>
+<p>
+And free mothers shall clasp their free children to their hearts; and
+fathers and mothers and children shall join in one heavenly strain, song
+of freedom and of truth. And the nations shall listen to hear how &ldquo;they
+rose, they rose, they rose from the dead.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the tones of the sweet hymn died on the soft air, and the blessed
+vision passed with it; when I come down onto my feet,&mdash;for truly, I
+had been lifted up, and by the side of myself,&mdash;Cicely was standin'
+with her brown eyes lookin' over the waters, holdin' the hand of the boy;
+and I see every thing that the song did or could mean, in the depths of
+her deep, prophetic eyes. Sad eyes, too, they was, and discouraged; for
+the morning wus fur away&mdash;and&mdash;and the boy wus pullin' at her
+hand, eager to get away from where he wus.
+</p>
+<p>
+The boy led us; and we follered him up the gradual hill to the old
+homestead of Washington, Mount Vernon.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lookin' down from the broad, high porch, you can look directly down
+through the trees into the river. The water calm and sort o' golden,
+through the green of the trees, and every thing looked peaceful and
+serene.
+</p>
+<p>
+There are lots of interestin' things to be seen here,&mdash;the tombs of
+the rest of the Washington family; the key of the Bastile, covered with
+the blood and misery of a foreign land; the tree that carries us back in
+memory to his grave, where he rests quietly, who disturbed the sleep of
+empires and kingdoms; the furniture of Washington and his family,&mdash;the
+chairs they sot in, the tables they sot at, and the rooms where they sot;
+the harpiscord, that Nelly Custis and Mrs. G. Washington harpiscorded on.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she whose name wus once Smith longed to see somethin' else fur more.
+What wus it?
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus not the great drawin'-rooms, the guest-chambers, the halls, the
+grounds, the live-stock, nor the pictures, nor the flowers.
+</p>
+<p>
+No: it wus the old garret of the mansion, the low old garret, where she
+sot, our Lady Washington, in her widowed dignity, with no other fire only
+the light of deathless love that lights palace or hovel,&mdash;sot there
+in the window, because she could look out from it upon the tomb of her
+mighty dead.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sot lookin' out upon the river that wus sweepin' along under sun and moon,
+bearing on every wave and ripple the glory and beauty of his name.
+</p>
+<p>
+Bearing it away from her mebby, she would sometimes sadly think, as she
+thought of happy days gone by; for though souls may soar, hearts will
+cling. And sometimes storms would vex the river's unquiet breast; and
+mebby the waves would whisper to her lovin' heart, &ldquo;Never more, never
+more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0072" id="linkimage-0072"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/284.jpg" alt="The Old Home of Washington" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+As she sot there looking out, waiting for that other river, whose waves
+crept nearer and nearer to her feet,&mdash;that other river, on which her
+soul should sail away to meet her glorious dead; that river which whispers
+&ldquo;Forever, forever;&rdquo; that river which is never unquiet, and whose waves are
+murmuring of nothing less beautiful than of meeting, of love, and of
+lasting repose.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER X.
+</h2>
+<p>
+When we got back from Mount Vernon, and entered our boardin'-house, Cicely
+went right up to her room. But I, feelin' kinder beat out (eloquent
+emotions are very tuckerin' on a tower), thought I would set down a few
+minutes in the parlor to rest, before I mounted up the stairs to my room.
+</p>
+<p>
+But truly, as it turned out, I had better have gone right up, breath or no
+breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+For, while I was a settin' there, a tall, sepulchral lookin' female, that
+I had noticed at the breakfast-table, come up to me; and says she,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg your pardon, mom, but I believe you are the noble and eloquent
+Josiah Allen's wife, and I believe you are a stoppin' here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I calmly, &ldquo;I hain't a stoppin'&mdash;I am stopped, as it were, for a
+few days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;a friend of mine is comin' to-night, to my room, No.
+17, to give a private seansy. And knowin' you are a great case to
+investigate into truths, I thought mebby you would love to come, and
+witness some of our glorious spirit manifestations.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I thanked her for her kindness, but told her &ldquo;I guessed I wouldn't go. I
+didn't seem to be sufferin' for a seancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says she: &ldquo;it is wonderful, wonderful to see. Why, we will tie the
+medium up, and he will ontie himself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I have seen that done, time and agin. I used to tie Thomas
+J. up when he was little, and naughty; and he would, in spite of me, ontie
+himself, and get away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is Thomas J.?&rdquo; says she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Josiah's child by his first wife,&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;if we have a good circle, and the conditions are
+favorable, the spirits will materialize,&mdash;come before us with a
+body.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I have seen that. Thomas J. used to dress up as a ghost,
+and appear to us. But he didn't seem to think the conditions wus so
+favorable, and he didn't seem to appear so much, after his father ketched
+him at it, and give him a good whippin'.&rdquo; And says I firmly, &ldquo;I guess that
+would be about the way with your ghosts.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o' pitiful,&mdash;to
+go to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my remark, for she
+seemed to be a gazin' upward in a sort of a muse; and she says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! would you not like to talk with your departed kindred?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, yes,&rdquo; says I firmly, after a minute's thought. &ldquo;I would like to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come to-night to our seansy, and we will call 'em, and you shall talk
+with 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I candidly, &ldquo;to tell the truth, bein' only wimmen present,
+I'll tell you, I have got to mend my petticoat to-night. My errents have
+took me round to such a extent, that it has got all frayed out round the
+bottom, and I have got to mend the fray. But, if any of my kindred are
+there, you jest mention it to 'em that she that wuz Samantha Smith is
+stopped at No. 16, and, if perfectly convenient, would love to see 'em. I
+can explain it to 'em,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;bein' all in the family, why I couldn't
+leave my room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0073" id="linkimage-0073"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/288.jpg" alt="Thomas Jefferson S Ghost" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Says she, &ldquo;You are makin' fun: you don't believe they will be there, do
+you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, to be honest with you, it looks dubersome to me. It does seem to
+me, that if my father or mother sot out from the other world, and come
+down to this boardin'-house, to No. 17, they would know, without havin' to
+be told, that I was in the next room to 'em; and they wouldn't want to
+stay with a passel of indifferent strangers, when their own child was so
+near.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't believe in the glorious manifestations of our seansys?&rdquo; says
+she.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, to tell you the plain truth, I don't seem to believe 'em to any
+great extent. I believe, if God wants to speak to a human soul below, He
+can, without any of your performances and foolishness; and when I say
+performences and when I say foolishness, I say 'em in very polite ways:
+and I don't want to hurt anybody's feelin's by sayin' things hain't so,
+but I simply state my belief.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you believe in the communion of saints? Don't you believe God ever
+reveals himself to man?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I do! I believe that now, as in the past, the pure in heart shall
+see God. Why, heaven is over all, and pretty nigh to some.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I thought of Cicely, and couldn't help it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe there are pure souls, especially when they are near to the
+other world, who can look in, and behold its beauty. Why, it hain't but a
+little ways from here,&mdash;it can't be, sense a breath of air will blow
+us into it. It takes sights of preparation to get ready to go, but it is
+only a short sail there. And you may go all over the land from house to
+house, and you will hear in almost every one of some dear friend who died
+with their faces lit up with the glow of the light shinin' from some one
+of the many mansions,&mdash;the dear home-light of the fatherland; died
+speakin' to some loved one, gone before. But I don't believe you can coax
+that light, and them voices, down into a cabinet, and let 'em shine and
+speak, at so much an evenin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought,&rdquo; says she bitterly, &ldquo;that you was one who never condemned any
+thing that you hadn't thoroughly investigated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I don't condemn nothin' nor nobody. I only tell my
+mind. I don't say there hain't no truth in it, because I don't know; and
+that is one of the best reasons in the world for not sayin' a thing hain't
+so. When you think how big a country the land of Truth is, and how many
+great unexplored regions lay in it, why should Josiah Allen's wife stand
+and lean up aginst a tree on the outmost edge of the frontier, and say
+what duz and what duzn't lay hid in them mysterius and beautiful regions
+that happier eyes than hern shall yet look into?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: the great future is the fulfillment of the prophecies, and blind
+gropin's of the present; and it is not for me, nor Josiah, nor anybody
+else, to talk too positive about what we hain't seen, and don't know.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: nor I hain't one to say it is the Devil's work, not claimin' such a
+close acquaintance with the gentleman named, as some do, who profess to
+know all his little social eccentricities. But I simply say, and say
+honest, that I hain't felt no drawin's towards seancys, nor felt like
+follerin' 'em up. But I am perfectly willin' you should have your own
+idees, and foller 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you believe angels have appeared to men?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mom, I do. But I never heard of a angel bein' stanchelled up in a
+box-stall, and let out of it agin at stated times, like a yearlin' colt.
+(Excuse my metafor, mom, I am country bred and born.) And no angel that I
+ever heard on, has been harnessed and tackled up with any ropes or strings
+whatsoever. No! whenever we hear of angels appearin' to men, they have
+flown down, white-winged and radiant, right out of the heavens, which is
+their home, and appeared to men, entirely unbeknown to them. That is the
+way they appeared to the shephards at Bethlahem, to the disciples on the
+mountain, to the women at the tomb.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you believe they could come jest as well now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't say they couldn't. There is no place in the Bible, that I know
+of, where it says they shall never appear agin to man. But I s'pose, in
+the days I speak of, when the One Pure Heart was upon earth, Earth and
+Heaven drew nearer together, as it were,&mdash;the divine and the human.
+And if we now draw Heaven nearer to us by better, purer lives, who knows,&rdquo;
+ says I dreamily (forgettin' the mejum, and other trials), &ldquo;who knows but
+what we might, in some fair day, look up into the still heavens, and see
+through the clear blue, in the distance, a glimpse of the beautiful city
+of the redeemed?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who knows,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if we lived for Heaven, as Jennie Dark lived for her
+country, in the story I have heard Thomas J. read about, but we might,
+like her, see visions, and hear voices, callin' us to heavenly duties?
+But,&rdquo; says I, findin' and recoverin' myself, &ldquo;I don't see no use in a
+seansy to help us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you admit that there is strange doin's at these seansys?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;I never see one myself; but, from what I have heard of
+'em, they are very strange.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you think there are things done that seem supernatural?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know as they are any more supernatural than the telegraph and
+telefone and electric light, and many other seemin'ly supernatural works.
+And who knows but there may still be some hidden powers in nature that is
+the source of what you call supernatural?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not believe, with us, voices from Heaven speak through these means?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because it looks dubersome to me&mdash;dretful dubersome. It don't look
+reasonable to me, that He, the mighty King of heaven and earth, would
+speak to His children through a senseless Indian jargon, or impossible and
+blasphemous speeches through a first sphere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You say you believe God has spoken to men, and why not now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, I don't know but He duz. But I don't believe it is in that
+manner. Way back to the creation, when we read of God's speakin' to man,
+the voice come directly down from heaven to their souls.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In the hush of the twilight, when every thing was still and peaceful, and
+Adam was alone, then he heard God's voice. He didn't have to wait for
+favorable conditions, or set round a table; for, what is more convincin',
+I don't believe he had a table to set round.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In the dreary lonesomeness of the great desert, God spoke to the
+heart-broken Hagar. She didn't have to try any tests to call down the
+spirits. Clear and sudden out of heaven come the Lord's voice speaking to
+her soul in comfort and in prophecy, and her eyes was opened, and she saw
+waters flowin' in the midst of the desert.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Up on the mountain top, God's voice spoke to Abraham; and Lot in the
+quiet of evening, at the tent's door, received the angelic visitants.
+Sudden, unbeknown to them, they come. They didn't have to put nobody into
+a trance, nor holler, so we read.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In the hush of the temple, through the quiet of her motherly dreams,
+Hannah heard a voice. Hannah didn't have to say, 'If you are a spirit, rap
+so many times.' No: she knew the voice. God prepares the listenin' soul
+His own self. 'They know my voice,' so the Lord said.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Daniel and the lions didn't have to 'form a circle' for him to see the
+one in shinin' raiment. No: the angel guest came down from heaven
+unbidden, and appeared to Daniel alone, in peril; and as he stood by the
+'great river,' it said, 'Be strong, be strong!' preparin' him for
+conflict. And Daniel was strengthened, so the Bible says.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;God's hand is not weaker to-day, and His conflicts are bein' waged on
+many a battle-field. And I dare not say that He does not send His angels
+to comfort and sustain them who from love to Him go out into rightous
+warfare. But I don't believe they come through a seansy. I don't,
+honestly. I don't believe Daniel would have felt strengthened a mite, by
+seein' a materialized rag-baby hung out by a wire in front of a hemlock
+box, and then drawed back sudden.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0074" id="linkimage-0074"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/294.jpg" alt="Heavenly Visitors" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No: Adam and Enoch, and Mary and Paul and St. John, didn't have to say,
+before they saw the heavenly guests, 'If you are a spirit, manifest it by
+liftin' up some table-legs.' And they didn't have to tie a mejum into a
+box before they could hear God's voice. No: we read in the Bible of eight
+different ones who come back from death, and appeared to their friends,
+besides the many who came forth from their graves at Jerusalem. But they
+didn't none of 'em come in this way from round under tables, and out of
+little coops, and etcetery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And as it was in the old days, so I believe it is to-day. I believe, if
+God wants to speak to a human soul, livin' or dead, He don't <i>need</i>
+the help of ropes and boxes and things. It don't look reasonable to think
+He <i>has</i> to employ such means. And it don't look reasonable to me to
+think, if He wants to speak to one of His children in comfort or
+consolation, He will try to drive a hard bargain with 'em, and make 'em
+pay from fifty cents to a dollar to hear Him, children half price.
+Howsomever, everybody to their own opinions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a unbeliever,&rdquo; says she bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mom: I s'pose I am. I s'pose I should be called Samantha Allen,
+U.S., which Stands, Unbeliever in Spiritual Seansys, and also United
+States. It has a noble, martyrous look to me,&rdquo; says I firmly. &ldquo;It makes me
+think of my errent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She tosted her head in a high-headed way, which is gaulin' in the extreme
+to see in another female. And she says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not receptive to truth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I s'pose she thought that would scare me, but it didn't. I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe in takin' truth direct from God's own hand and revelation. But
+I don't have any faith in modern spiritual seansys. They seem to me,&mdash;and
+I would say it in a polite, courtous way, for I wouldn't hurt your
+feelin's for the world,&mdash;all mixed up with modern greed and humbug.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But, if you'll believe it, for all the pains I took to be almost
+over-polite to her, and not say a word to hurt her feelin's, that woman
+acted mad, and flounced out of the room as if she was sent.
+</p>
+<p>
+Good land! what strange creeters there are in the world, anyway!
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I had fairly forgot that the boy wus in the room. But 1,000 and 5 is
+a small estimate of the questions he asked me after she went out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a seansy was? And did folks appear there? And would his papa appear
+if he should tie himself up in a box? And if I would be sorry if his papa
+didn't appear, if he didn't appear? And where the folks went to that I
+said, come out of their graves? And did they die again? Or did they keep
+on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'? And if I wished I could keep on a
+livin' and a livin' and a livin'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Good land! it made me feel wild as a loon, and Cicely put the boy to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I happened to go into the bedroom for something; and he opened his
+eyes, and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Say</i>! if the dead live men's little boys that had grown up and
+lived and died before their pa's come out, would they come out too? and
+would the dead live men know that they was their little boys? and <i>say</i>&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I went out immegiatly, and s'pose he went to sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, the next mornin' I got up feelin' kinder mauger. I felt sort o'
+weary in my mind as well as my body. For I had kep' up a powerful ammount
+of thinkin' and medetatin'. Mebby right when I would be a talkin' and a
+smilin' to folks about the weather or literatoor or any thing, my mind
+would be hard at work on problems, and I would be a takin' silent
+observations, and musin' on what my eyes beheld.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0075" id="linkimage-0075"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/297.jpg" alt="'Say!'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And I had felt more and more satisfied of the wisdom of the conclusion I
+reached on my first interview with Allen Arthur,&mdash;that I dast not, I
+dast not let my companion go from me into Washington.
+</p>
+<p>
+No! I felt that I dast not, as his mind was, let him go into temptation.
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt that he wanted to make money out of the Government I loved; and
+after I had looked round me, and observed persons and things, I felt that
+he would do it.
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt that <i>I</i> dast not let him go.
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew that he wanted to help them that helped him, without no deep
+thought as to the special fitness of uncle Nate Gowdy and Ury Henzy for
+governmental positions. And after I had enquired round a little, and
+considered the heft of his mind, and the weight of example, I felt he
+would do it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I <i>dast</i> not let him go.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, though I knew his hand was middlin' free now, still I realized that
+other hands just as free once had had rings slipped into 'em, and was led
+by 'em whithersoever the ring-makers wished to lead them.
+</p>
+<p>
+I dast <i>not</i> let him go.
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew that now his morals, though small (he don't weigh more'n a hundred,&mdash;bones,
+moral sentiments, and all), was pretty sound and firm, the most of the
+time. But the powerful winds that blew through them broad streets of
+Washington from every side, and from the outside, and from the under side,
+powerful breezes, some cold, and some powerful hot ones&mdash;why, I felt
+that them small morals, more than as likely as not, would be upsot, and
+blowed down, and tore all to pieces.
+</p>
+<p>
+I dast not <i>let</i> him go.
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew he was willin' to buy votes. If willin' to buy,&mdash;the fearful
+thought hanted me,&mdash;mebby he would be willin' to sell; and, the more
+I looked round and observed, the more I felt that he would.
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt that I dast not let <i>him</i> go.
+</p>
+<p>
+No, no! I dast not let him <i>go</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+I was a musin' on this thought at the breakfast-table where I sot with
+Cicely, the boy not bein' up. I was settin' to the table as calm and cool
+as my toast (which was <i>very</i> cool), when the hired man brought me a
+letter; and I opened it right there, for I see by the post-mark it was
+from my Josiah. And I read as follers, in dismay and anguish, for I
+thought he was crazy:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+MI DEER WYF,&mdash;Kum hum, I hav got a crik in mi bak. Kum hum, mi deer
+Sam, kum hum, or I shal xpire. Mi gord has withurd, mi plan has faled, I
+am a undun Josire. Tung kant xpres mi yernin to see u. I kant tak no
+kumfort lookin at ure kam fisiognimy in ure fotogrof, it maks mi hart ake,
+u luk so swete, I fere u hav caut a bo. Kum hum, kum hum.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ure luvin kompanien,
+</p>
+<h3>
+JOSIRE.
+</h3>
+<p>
+vers ov poetry.
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Mi krik is bad, mi ink is pale:
+Mi luv for u shal never fale.
+</pre>
+<p>
+I dropt my knife and fork (I had got about through eatin', anyway), and
+hastened to my room. Cicely followed me, anxious-eyed, for I looked bad.
+</p>
+<p>
+I dropped into a chair; and almost buryin' my face in my white linen
+handkerchief, I give vent to some moans of anguish, and a large number of
+sithes. And Cicely says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is the matter, aunt Samantha?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your poor uncle! your poor uncle!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is the matter with him?&rdquo; says she.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;He is crazy as a loon. Crazy and got a creek, and I must
+start for home the first thing in the mornin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0076" id="linkimage-0076"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/300.jpg" alt="Samantha's Sorrow" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+She says, &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; and then I showed her the letter, and says
+as I did so,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has had too much strain on his mind, for the size of it. His plans
+have been too deep. He has grappled with too many public questions. I
+ortn't to have left him alone with politics. But I left him for his good.
+But never, never, will I leave that beloved man agin, crazy, or no crazy,
+creek, or no creek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;will he never, never more be conscious of the presence of
+the partner of his youth and middle age? Will he never realize the deep,
+constant love that has lightened up our pathway?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wept some. But I thought that mebby he would know my cream biscuit and
+other vittles, I felt that he would re<i>cog</i>nise them.
+</p>
+<p>
+But by this time Cicely had got the letter read through; and she said &ldquo;he
+wuzn't crazy, it was the new-fashioned way of spelling;&rdquo; she said she had
+seen it; and so I brightened up, and felt well: though, as I told her,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The creek would drive me home in the mornin'.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Duty and Love
+draws me, a willin' captive, to the side of my sufferin' Josiah. I shall
+go home on that creek.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Woman's first duty is to the man she
+loves.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I come here on that duty, and on that duty I shall go
+back, and the creek.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cicely didn't feel as if she could go the next day, for there was to be a
+great meetin' of the friends of temperance, in a few days, there; and she
+wanted to attend to it; she wanted to help all she could; and then, there
+wus a person high in influence that she wanted to converse with on the
+subject. That good little thing was willin' to do <i>any thing</i> for the
+sake of the boy and the Right.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I says to her, &ldquo;I <i>must</i> go, for that word 'plan' worrys me; it
+worrys me far more than the creek: and I see my partner is all unstrung,
+and I must be there to try to string him up agin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So it wus decided, that I should start in the morning, and Cicely come on
+in a few days: she was all boyed up with the thought that at this meetin'
+she could get some help and hope for the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+But, after Cicely went to bed, I sot there, and got to thinkin' about the
+new spellin', and felt that I approved of it. My mind is such that <i>instantly</i>
+I can weigh and decide.
+</p>
+<p>
+I took some of these words, photograph, philosophy, etc., in one hand, and
+in the other I took filosify and fotograf; and as I hefted 'em, I see the
+latter was easier to carry. I see they would make our language easier to
+learn by children and foreigners; it would lop off a lot of silent letters
+of no earthly use; it would make far less labor in writin', in printin',
+in cost of type, and would be better every way.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cicely said a good many was opposed to it on account of bein' attached to
+the old way. But I don't feel so, though I love the old things with a love
+that makes my heart ache sometimes when changes come. But my reason tells
+me that it hain't best to be attached to the old way if the new is better.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, I s'pose our old 4 fathers was attached to the idee of hitchin' an ox
+onto a wagon, and ridin' after it. And our old 4 mothers liked the idee of
+bein' perched up on a pillion behind the old 4 fathers. I s'pose they
+hated the idee of gettin' off of that pillion, and onhitchin' that ox. But
+they had to, they had to get down, and get up into phaetons and railway
+cars, and steamboats.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I s'pose them old 4 people (likely creeters they wuz too) hated the
+idee of usin' matches; used to love to strike fire with a flint, and
+trample off a mild to a neighber's on January mornin's (and their mornin's
+was <i>very</i> early) to borrow some coals if they had lost their flint.
+I s'pose they had got attached to that flint, some of 'em, and hated to
+give it up, thought it would be lonesome. But they had to; and the flint
+didn't care, it knew matches was better. The calm, everlasting forces of
+Nature don't murmur or rebel when they are changed for newer, greater
+helps. No: it is only human bein's who complain, and have the heartache,
+because they are so sot.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0077" id="linkimage-0077"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/303.jpg" alt="Our 4 Parents" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But whether we murmur, or whether we are calm, whether we like it, or
+whether we don't, we have to move our tents. We are only campin' out,
+here; and we have to move our tents along, and let the new things push us
+out of the way. The old things now, are the new ones of the past; and what
+seems new to us, will soon be the old.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, how long does it seem, only a minute, since we was a buildin' moss
+houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse? Beautiful, fresh
+rooms, carpeted with the green moss, with bright young faces bendin' down
+over 'em. Where are they now? The dust of how many years&mdash;I don't
+want to think how many&mdash;has sifted down over them velvet-carpeted
+mansions, turned them into dust.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the same dust has sprinkled down onto the happy heads of the fresh,
+bright-faced little group gathered there.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0078" id="linkimage-0078"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/304.jpg" alt="Borrowing Coals" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Charley, and Alice! oh! the dust is very deep on her head,&mdash;the dust
+that shall at last lay over all our heads. And Louis! Bright blue eyes
+there may be to-day, old Time, but none truer and tenderer than his. But
+long ago, oh! long ago, the dust covered you&mdash;the dust that is older
+than the pyramids, old, and yet new; for on some mysterious breeze it was
+wafted to you, it drifted down, and covered the blue eyes and the brown
+eyes, hid the bright faces forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the years have sprinkled down into Charley's grave business head
+tiresome dust of dividends and railway shares. Kate and Janet, and Will
+and Helen and Harry&mdash;where are you all to-day, I wonder? But though I
+do not know that, I do know this,&mdash;that Time has not stood still with
+any of you. The years have moved you along, hustled you forward, as they
+swept by. You have had to move along, and let other bright faces stand in
+front of you.
+</p>
+<p>
+You are all buildin' houses to-day that you think are more endurin'. But
+what you build to-day&mdash;hopes built upon worldly wealth, worldly fame,
+household affection, political success&mdash;ah I will they not pass away
+like the green moss houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse?
+</p>
+<p>
+Yes, they, too, will pass away, so utterly that only their dust will
+remain. But God grant that we may all meet, happy children again, young
+with the new life of the immortals, on some happy playground of the
+heavenly life!
+</p>
+<p>
+But poor little houses of moss and cedar boughs, you are broken down years
+and years ago, trampled down into dust, and the dust blown away by the
+rushin' years. Blown away, but gathered up agin by careful old Nature,
+nourishin' with it a newer, fresher growth.
+</p>
+<p>
+I don't s'pose any of us really hanker after growin' old; sometimes I
+kinder hate to; and so I told Josiah one day.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he says, &ldquo;Why, we hain't the only ones that is growin' old. Why,
+everybody is as old as we be, that wuz born, at the same time; and lots of
+folks are older. Why, there is uncle Nate Gowdey, and aunt Seeny: they are
+as old agin, almost.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0079" id="linkimage-0079"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/306.jpg" alt="The Old Schoolhouse" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;That is a great comfort to meditate on, Josiah; but it don't take
+away all the sting of growin' old.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;he didn't care a dumb about it, if he didn't have to work so
+hard.&rdquo; He said &ldquo;he'd fairly love to grow old if he could do it easy,
+kinder set down to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+(Now, that man don't work so very hard. But don't tell him I said so: he's
+real fractious on that subject, caused, I think, by rheumatiz, and mebby
+the Plan.)
+</p>
+<p>
+I told Josiah that it wouldn't make growin' old any easier to set down,
+than it would to stand up.
+</p>
+<p>
+I don't s'pose it makes much difference about our bodies, anyway; they are
+only wrappers for the soul: the real, person is within. But then, you
+know, you get sort o' attached to your own body, yourself, you know, if
+you have lived with yourself any length of time, as we have, a good many
+of us.
+</p>
+<p>
+You may not be handsome, but you sort o' like your own looks, after all.
+Your eyes have a sort of a good look to you. Your hands are soft and
+white; and they are your own too, which makes 'em nearer to you; they have
+done sights for you, and you can't help likin' 'em. And your mouth looks
+sort o' agreable and natural to you.
+</p>
+<p>
+You don't really like to see the dimpled, soft hands change into an older
+person's hands; you kinder hate to change the face for an older, more
+care-worn face; you get sick of lookin'-glasses.
+</p>
+<p>
+And sometimes you feel a sort of a homesick longin' for your old self&mdash;for
+the bright, eager face that looked back to you from the old lookin'-glass
+on summer mornin's, when the winder was open out into the orchard, and the
+May birds was singin' amidst the apple-blows. The red lips parted with a
+happy smile; the bright, laughin' eyes, sort o' soft too, and wistful&mdash;wishful
+for the good that mebby come to you, and mebby didn't, but which the
+glowin' face was sure of, on that spring morning with the May birds
+singin' outside, and the May birds singin' inside.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0080" id="linkimage-0080"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/308.jpg" alt="A May Morning" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Time may have brought you somethin' better&mdash;better than you dreamed
+of on that summer mornin'. But it is different, anyhow; and you can't help
+gettin' kinder homesick, longin', wantin' that pretty young face again,
+wantin' the heart back again that went with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I s'pose we shall have it back&mdash;sometime. I s'pose we shall get
+back our lost youth in the place where we first got it. And it is all
+right, anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+We must move on. You see, Time won't stop to argue with us, or dicker; and
+our settin' down, and coaxin' him to stop a minute, and whet his scythe,
+and give us a chance to get round the swath he cuts, won't ammount to
+nothin' only wastin' our breath. His scythe is one that don't need any
+grindstun, and his swath is one that must be cut.
+</p>
+<p>
+No! Time won't lean up aginst fence corners, and wipe his brow on a
+bandanna, and hang round. He jest moves right on&mdash;up and down, up and
+down. On each side of us the ripe blades fall, and the flowers; and pretty
+soon the swath will come right towards us, the grass-blades will fall
+nearer and nearer&mdash;a turn of the gleamin' scythe, and we, too, will
+be gone. The sunlight will rest on the turf where our shadows were, and
+one blade of grass will be missed out of that broad harvest-field more
+than we will be, when a few short years have rolled by.
+</p>
+<p>
+The beauty and the clamor of life will go on without us. You see, we
+hain't needed so much as we in our egotism think we are. The world will
+get along without us, while we rest in peace.
+</p>
+<p>
+But until then we have got to move along: we can't set down anywhere, and
+set there. No: if we want to be fore mothers and fore fathers, we mustn't
+set still: we must give the babies a chance to be fore mothers and fore
+fathers too. It wouldn't be right to keep the babies from bein' ancestors.
+</p>
+<p>
+We must keep a movin' on. How the summer follows the spring, and the
+winter follows the autumn, and the years go by! And the clouds sail on
+through the sky, and the shadows follow each other over the grass, and the
+grass fadeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the sun moves down the west, and the twilight follows the sun, and at
+last the night comes&mdash;and then the stars shine.
+</p>
+<p>
+Strange that all this long revery of my mind should spring from that
+letter of my pardner's. But so it is. Why, I sot probable 3 fourths of a
+hour&mdash;entirely by the side of myself. Why, I shouldn't have sensed
+whether I was settin' on a sofy in a Washington boarding-house (a hard one
+too), or a bed of flowers in Asia Minor, or in the middle of the Desert of
+Sarah. Why, I shouldn't have sensed Sarah or A. Minor at all, if they had
+stood right by me, I was so lost and unbeknown to myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+But anon, or pretty nigh that time (for I know it was ten when I got into
+bed, and it probable took me 1/2 an hour to comb out my hair and wad it
+up, and ondress), I rousted up out of my revery, and realized I was Josiah
+Allen's wife on a tower of Principle and Discovery. I realized I was a
+forerunner, and on the eve of return to the bosom of my family (a linen
+bosom, with five pleats on a side).
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, I rose betimes in the mornin', or about that time, and eat a good,
+noble breakfast, so's to start feelin' well; embraced Cicely and the boy,
+who asked me 32 questions while I was embracin' him. I kissed him several
+times, with hugs according; and then I took leave of Sally and Bub Smith.
+I paid for my board honorable, although Sally said she would not take any
+pay for so short a board. But I knew, in her condition, boards of any
+length should be paid for. So I insisted, and the board was paid for. I
+also rewarded Bub Smith for his efforts at doin' my errents, in a way that
+made his blushes melt into a glowin' background of joyousness.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, havin' asked the hired man to get a covered carriage to convey
+my body to the depot, and my trunk, I left Washington, D.C.
+</p>
+<p>
+The snort of the engine as it ketched sight of me, sounded friendly to me.
+It seemed to say to me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forerunner, your runnin' is done, and well done! Your labors of duty and
+anxiety is over. Soon, soon will you be with your beloved pardner at
+home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Home, the dearest word that was ever said or sung.
+</p>
+<p>
+The passengers all looked good to me. The men's hats looked like Josiah's.
+They looked out of their eyes some as he did out of hisen: they looked
+good to me. There was one man upbraidin' his wife about some domestic
+matter, with crossness in his tone, but affectionate care and interest in
+his mean. Oh, how good, and sort o' natural, he did look to me! it almost
+seemed as if my Josiah was there by my side.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never, never, does the cords of love fairly pull at your heart-strings, a
+drawin' you along towards your heart's home, your heart's desire, as when
+you have been off a movin' round on a tower. I longed for my dear home, I
+yearned for my Josiah.
+</p>
+<p>
+I arrove at Jonesville as night was a lettin' down her cloudy mantilly
+fringed with stars (there wuzn't a star: I jest put that in for oritory,
+and I don't think it is wrong if I tell of it right away).
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0081" id="linkimage-0081"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/312.jpg" alt="At the Depot" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Evidently Josiah's creek wus better; for he wus at the depot with the
+mair, to convey my body home. He wus stirred to the very depths of his
+heart to see me agin; but he struggled for calmness, and told me in a
+voice controlled by his firm will, to &ldquo;hurry and get in, for the mair wus
+oneasy stand-in' so long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I, too, felt that I must emulate his calmness; and I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't get in no faster than I can. Do hold the mair still, or I can't
+get in at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, wall! hain't I a holdin' it? Jump in: there is a team behind a
+waitin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+After these little interchanges of thought and affection, there was
+silence between us. Truly, there is happiness enough in bein' once more by
+the side of the one you love, whether you speak or not. And, to tell the
+truth, I was out of breath hurryin' so. But few words were interchanged
+until the peaceful haven of home was reached.
+</p>
+<p>
+Some few words, peaceful, calm words were uttered, as to what we wus goin'
+to have for supper, and a desire on Josiah's part for a chicken-pie and
+vegitables of all kinds, and various warm cakes and pastries, compromised
+down to plans of tender steak, mashed potatoes, cream biscuit, lemon
+custard, and coffee. It wus settled in peace and calmness. He looked
+unstrung, very unstrung, and wan, considerable wan. But I knew that I and
+the supper could string him up agin; and I felt that I would not speak of
+the plan or the creek, or any agitatin' subject, until the supper was
+over, which resolve I follered. After the table was cleared, and Josiah
+looked like a new man,&mdash;the girl bein' out in the kitchen washin' the
+dishes,&mdash;I mentioned the creek; and he owned up that he didn't know
+as it was exactly a creek, but &ldquo;it was a dumb pain, anyway, and he felt
+that he must see me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It is sweet, passing sweet, to be missed, to be necessary to the happiness
+of one you love. But, at the same time, it is bitter to know that your
+pardner has prevaricated to you, and so the sweet and the bitter is mixed
+all through life.
+</p>
+<p>
+I smiled and sithed simultaneous, as it were, and dropped down the creek.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then with a calm tone, but a beatin' heart, I took up the Plan, and
+presented it to him. I wanted to find out the heights and depths of that
+Plan before I said a word about my own adventures at Washington, D.C. Oh,
+how that plan had worried me! But the minute I mentioned it, Josiah looked
+as if he would sink. And at first he tried to move off the subject, but I
+wouldn't let him. I held him up firm to that plan, and, to use a poetical
+image, I hitched him there.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;You know what you told me, Josiah,&mdash;you said that plan would
+make you beloved and revered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He groaned.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;You know you said it would make you a lion, and me a lioness: do
+you remember, Josiah Allen?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He groaned awful.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I firmly, &ldquo;It didn't make you a lion, did it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He didn't speak, only sithed. But says I firmly, for I wus bound to come
+to the truth of it,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you a lion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; say she, &ldquo;I hain't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;then what be you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am a fool,&rdquo; says he bitterly, &ldquo;a dumb fool.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I encouragingly, &ldquo;you no need to have laid on plans, and I
+needn't have gone off on no towers of discovery, to have found that out.
+But now,&rdquo; says I in softer axents, for I see he did indeed look agitated
+and melancholy,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell your Samantha all about it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he mournfully, &ldquo;I have got to find 'The Gimlet.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0082" id="linkimage-0082"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/315.jpg" alt="Are You a Lion?" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Gimlet!&rdquo; I sithed to myself; and the wild and harrowin' thought went
+through me like a arrow,&mdash;that my worst apprehensions had been
+realized, and that man had been a writing poetry.
+</p>
+<p>
+But then I remembered that he had promised me years ago, that he never
+would tackle the job agin. He begun to make a poem when we was first
+married; but there wuzn't no great harm done, for he had only wrote two
+lines when I found it out and broke it up.
+</p>
+<p>
+Bein' jest married, I had a good deal of influence over him; and he
+promised me sacred, to never, <i>never</i>, as long as he lived and
+breathed, try to write another line of poetry agin. We was married in the
+spring, and these 2 lines was as follers:&mdash;
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;How happified this spring appears&mdash;
+More happier than I ever knew springs to be, <i>shears</i>.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+<p>
+And I asked him what he put the &ldquo;shears&rdquo; in for, and he said he did it to
+rhyme. And then was the time, then and there, that I made him promise on
+the Old Testament, <i>never</i> to try to write a line of poetry agin. And
+I felt that he <i>could</i> not do himself and me the bitter wrong to try
+it agin, and still I trembled.
+</p>
+<p>
+And right while I was tremblin', he returned, and silently laid &ldquo;The
+Gimlet&rdquo; in my lap, and sot down, and nearly buried his face in his hands.
+And the very first piece on which the eye of my spectacle rested, was
+this: &ldquo;Josiah Allen on a Path-Master.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I dropped the paper in my lap, and says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>What</i> have you been doing <i>now</i>, Josiah Allen? Have you been a
+fightin'? What path-master have you been on?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't been on any,&rdquo; says he sadly, out from under his hand. &ldquo;I headed
+it so, to have a strong, takin' title. You know they 'pinted me
+path-master some time ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0083" id="linkimage-0083"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/317.jpg" alt="Josiah Being Treated" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I groaned and sithed to that extent that I was almost skairt at myself,
+not knowin' but I would have the highstericks unbeknown to me (never
+havin' had 'em, I didn't know exactly what the symptoms was), and I felt
+dredfully. But anon, or pretty nigh anon, I grew calmer, and opened the
+paper, and read. It seemed to be in answer to the men who had nominated
+him for path-master, and it read as follers:&mdash;
+</p>
+<h3>
+JOSIAH ALLEN ON A PATH-MASTER.
+</h3>
+<p>
+Feller Constituents and Male Men of Jonesville and the surroundin' and
+adjacent worlds!
+</p>
+<p>
+I thank you, fellow and male citizents, I thank you heartily, and from the
+depths of my bein', for the honor you have heaped onto me, in pintin' me
+path-master.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I feel it to be my duty to decline it. I feel that I must keep
+entirely out of political matters, and that I cannot be induced to be
+path-master, or President, or even United-States senator. I have not got
+the constitution to stand it. I don't feel well a good deal of the time.
+My liver is out of order, I am liable to have the ganders any minute, I am
+bilious, am troubled with rheumatiz and colic, my blood don't circulate
+proper, I have got a weak back, and lumbago, and biles. And I hain't a bit
+well. And I dassent put too much strain on myself, I dassent.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, I am a husband and a father. I have sacred duties to perform
+about, nearer and more sacred duties, that I dast not put aside for any
+others.
+</p>
+<p>
+I am a husband. I took a tender and confidin' woman away from a happy home
+(Mother Smith's, in the east part of Jonesville), and transplanted her
+(carried her in a one-horse wagon and a mare) into my own home. And I feel
+that it is my first duty to make that home the brightest spot on earth to
+her. That home is my dearest and most sacred treasure. And how can I
+disturb its sweet peace with the wild turmoil of politics? I can not. I
+dast not.
+</p>
+<p>
+And politics are dangerous to enter into. There is bad folks in Jonesville
+'lection day,&mdash;bad men, and bad women. And I am liable to be led
+astray. I don't want to be led astray, but I feel that I am liable to.
+</p>
+<p>
+I have to hear swearin'. Now, I don't swear myself. (I don't call &ldquo;dumb&rdquo;
+ swearin', nor never did.) I don't swear, but I think of them oaths
+afterwards. Twice I thought of 'em right in prayer-meetin' time, and it
+worrys me.
+</p>
+<p>
+I have to see drinkin' goin' on. I don't want to drink; but they offer to
+treat me, old friends do, and Samantha is afraid I shall yield to the
+temptation; and I am most afraid of it myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yes, politics is dangerous and hardenin'; and, should I enter into the
+wild conflict, I feel that I am in danger of losin' all them tender,
+winnin' qualities that first won me the love of my Samantha. I dare not
+imperil her peace, and mine, by the effort.
+</p>
+<p>
+I can not, I dast not, put aside these sacred duties that Providence has
+laid upon me. My wive's happiness is the first thing I must consider. Can
+I leave her lonely and unhappy while I plunge into the wild turmoil of
+caurkusses and town-meetin's, and while I go to 'lection, and vote? No.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the time I would have to spend in study in order to vote intelligent,
+I feel as if that time I must use in strugglin' to promote the welfare and
+happiness of my Samantha. No, I dassent vote, I dassent another time.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again, another reason. I have a little grandchild growin' up around me. I
+owe a duty to her. I must dandle her on my knee. I must teach her the path
+of virtue and happiness. If I do not, who will? For though there are
+plenty to make laws, and to vote, little Samantha Joe has but one grandpa
+on her mother's side.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, I have sights of cares. The Methodist church is to be kep' up: I
+am one of the pillows of the church, and sometimes it rests heavy on me.
+Sometimes I have to manage every way to get the preacher's salary. I am
+school-trustee: I have to grapple with the deestrict every spring and
+fall. The teachers are high-headed, the parents always dissatisfied, and
+the children act like the Old Harry. I am the salesman in the
+cheese-factory. Anarky and quarellin' rains over me offen that
+cheese-factory; and its fault-findin', mistrustin' patrons, embitters my
+life, and rends my mind with cares.
+</p>
+<p>
+The care of providin' for my family wears onto me; for though Samantha
+tends to things on the inside of the house, I have to tend to things
+outside, and I have to provide the food she cooks.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, I have a great deal of work to do. Besides my barn-chores, and
+all the wearin' cares I have mentioned, I have five acres of potatoes to
+hoe and dig, a barn to shingle, a pig-pen to new cover, a smoke-house to
+fix, a bed of beets and a bed of turnips to dig,&mdash;ruty bagys,&mdash;and
+four big beds of onions to weed&mdash;dumb 'em! and six acres of corn to
+husk. My barn-floor at this time is nearly covered with stooks. How dare I
+leave my barn in confusion, and, by my disorderly doin's, run the risk of
+my wive's bein' so disgusted with my want of neatness and shiftlessness,
+as to cause her to get dissatisfied with home and husband, and wander off
+into paths of dissipation and vice? Oh! I dassent, I dassent, take the
+resk! When I think of all the terrible evils that are liable to come onto
+me, I feel that I dassent vote agin, as long as I live and breathe&mdash;I
+dast not have any thing whatever to do with politics.
+</p>
+<h3>
+FINY. THE END.
+</h3>
+<p>
+I read it all out loud, every word of it, interrupted now and then, and
+sometimes oftener, by the groans of my pardner. And as I finished, I
+looked round at him, and I see his looks was dretful. And I says in
+soothin' tones&mdash;for oh! how a companion's distress calls up the
+tender feelin's of a lovin' female pardner!
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;It hain't the worst piece in the world, Josiah Allen! It is as
+sensible as lots of political pieces I have read.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Chirk up!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It hain't the piece! It is the way it was took,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;Life has been
+a burden to me ever sense that appeared in 'The Gimlet.' Tongue can't tell
+the way them Jonesvillians has sneered and jeered at me, and run me down,
+and sot on me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I sithed, and remained a few moments almost lost in thought; and then says
+I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, if you are more composed and gathered together, will you tell your
+companion how you come to write it? what you did it <i>for?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did it to be populer,&rdquo; says he, out from under his hand. &ldquo;I thought I
+would branch off, and take a new turn, and not act so fierce and wolfish
+after office as most of 'em did. I thought I would get up something new
+and uneek.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, you have, uneeker than you probable ever will agin. But, if you
+wanted to be a senator, <i>why</i> did you refuse to have any thing to do
+with politics?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did it to be <i>urged</i>,&rdquo; says he, in the same sad, despairin' tones.
+&ldquo;I made the move to be loved&mdash;to be the favorite of the Nation. I
+thought after they read that, they would be fierce to promote me, fierce
+as blood-hounds. I thought it would make me the most populer man in
+Jonesville, and that I should be sought after, and praised up, and
+follered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What give you that idee?&rdquo; says I calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, don't you remember Letitia Lanfear? She wrote a article sunthin'
+like this, only not half so smart and deep, when she was nominated for
+school-trustee, and it jest lifted her right up. She never had been
+thought any thing off in Jonesville till she wrote that, and that was the
+makin' of her. And she hadn't half the reason to write it that I have. She
+hadn't half nor a quarter the cares that I have got. She was a widder,
+educated high, without any children, with a comfortable income, and she
+lived in her brother's family, and didn't have <i>no</i> cares at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And only see how that piece lifted her right up! They all said, what
+right feelin', what delicacy, what a noble, heart-stirrin', masterly
+document hern was! And I hankered, I jest hankered, after bein' praised up
+as she was. And I thought,&rdquo; says he with a deep sithe, &ldquo;I thought I should
+get as much agin praise as she did. I thought I should be twice as
+populer, because it wus sunthin' new for a <i>man</i> to write such a
+article. I thought I should be all the rage in Jonesville. I thought I
+should be a lion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0084" id="linkimage-0084"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/322.jpg" alt="Letitia Lanfear" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, accordin' to your tell, they treat you like one, don't they?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;speakin' in a wild animal way.&rdquo; Says he, growin' excited,
+&ldquo;I wish I <i>wuz</i> a African lion right out of a jungle: I'd teach them
+Jonesvillians to get out of my way. I'd love, when they was snickerin',
+and pokin' fun at me, and actin' and jeerin' and sneerin', and callin' me
+all to nort, I'd love to spring onto 'em, and roar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Josiah,&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Be calm! be calm!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't be calm! I can't see into it,&rdquo; he hollered. &ldquo;Why, what lifted
+Letitia Lanfear right up, didn't lift me up. Hain't what's sass for the
+goose, sass for the gander?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I sadly. &ldquo;It hain't the same sass. The geese have to get the
+same strength from it,&mdash;strength to swim in the same water, fly over
+the same fences, from the same pursuers and avengers; and they have to
+grow the same feathers out of it; but the sass, the sass is fur different.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I don't approve of all your piece. A man, as a general
+thing, has as much time as a woman has. And I'd love to see the time that
+I couldn't do a job as short as puttin' a letter in the post-office. Why,
+I never see the time, even when the children was little, and in cleanin'
+house, or sugarin'-time, but what I could ride into Jonesville every day,
+to say nothin' of once a year, and lay a vote onto a pole. And you have as
+much time as I do, unless it is springs and falls and hayin'-time. And if
+<i>I</i> could do it, <i>you</i> could. I don't approve of such talk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you know very well that you and I had better spend a little of our
+spare time a studyin' into matters, so as to vote intelligently; study
+into the laws that govern us both,&mdash;that hang us if we break 'em, and
+protect us if we obey 'em,&mdash;than to spend it a whittling shingles, or
+wonderin' whether Miss Bobbet's next baby will be a boy or a girl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he, takin' his hand down, and winkin',&mdash;a sort of a
+shrewd, knowin' wink, but a sad and dejected one, too, as I ever see wunk,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't have no idee of stoppin' votin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I coldly, as cold as Zero, or pretty nigh as coldblooded as the old
+man,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you write that article <i>jest</i> for the speech of people? Didn't
+you have no principle to back it up?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says he mournfully, &ldquo;I wouldn't want it to get out of the family,
+but I'll tell you the truth. I didn't write it on a single principle, not
+a darn principle. I wrote it jest for popularity, and to make 'em fierce
+to promote me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned aloud, and he groaned. It wus a sad and groanful time.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says he, &ldquo;I pinned my faith onto Letitia Lanfear. And I can't understand
+now, why a thing that made Letitia so populer, makes me a perfect outcast.
+Hain't we both human bein's&mdash;human Methodists and Jonesvillians?&rdquo;
+ Says he, in despairin', agonized tone, &ldquo;I can't see through it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I soothenly, &ldquo;Don't worry about that, Josiah, for nobody can. It is
+too deep a conundrum to be seen through: nobody has ever seen through it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But it seemed as if he couldn't be soothed; and agin he kinder sithed out,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I pinned my faith onto Letitia, and it has ondone me;&rdquo; and he kinder
+whimpered.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I says firmly, but gently,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will hear to your companion another time, will you not? and pin your
+faith onto truth and justice and right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I won't. I won't pin it onto nothin' nor nobody. I'm done with
+politics from this day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And bad as we both felt, this last speech of hisen made a glimmer of light
+streak up, and shine into my future. Some like heat lightenin' on summer
+evenin's. It hain't so much enjoyment at the time, but you know it is
+goin' to clear the cloudy air of the to-morrow. And so its light is sweet
+to you, though very curious, and crinkley.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as mournful and sort o' curious as this time seemed to me and to
+Josiah, yet this speech of hisen made me know that all private and public
+peril connected with Hon. Josiah Allen was forever past away. And that
+thought cast a rosy glow onto my to-morrows.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XI.
+</h2>
+<p>
+I found, on lookin' round the house the next mornin', that Philury had
+kep' things in quite good shape. Although truly the buttery looked like a
+lonesome desert, and the cubbards like empty tents the Arabs had left
+desolate.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I knew I could soon make 'em blossom like the rosy with provisions,
+which I proceeded at once to do, with Philury's help.
+</p>
+<p>
+While I wus a rollin' out the pie-crust, Philury told me &ldquo;she had changed
+her mind about long engagements.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And while I wus a makin' the cookies, she broached it to me that &ldquo;she and
+Ury was goin' to be married the next week.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I wus agreable to the idee, and told her so. I like 'em both. Ury is a
+tall, limber-jinted sort of a chap, sandy complected, and a little round
+shouldered, but hard-workin' and industrious, and seems to take a
+interest.
+</p>
+<p>
+His habits are good: he never drinks any thing stronger than root-beer,
+and he never uses tobacco&mdash;never has chawed any thing to our house
+stronger than gum. He used that, I have thought sometimes, more than wuz
+for his good. And I thought it must be expensive, he consumed such
+quantities of it. But he told me he made it himself out of beeswax and
+rozum.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I told Josiah that I shouldn't say no more about it; because, although
+it might be a foolish habit, gum was not what you might call inebriatin';
+it was not a intoxicatin' beverage, and didn't endanger the publick
+safety. So he kep' on a chawin' it, to home and abroad. He kep' at it all
+day, and at night if he felt lonesome.
+</p>
+<p>
+I had mistrusted this, because I found a great chunk now and then on the
+head-board; and I tackled him about it, and he owned up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he felt lonesome in the night,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;gum sort o' consoled him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0085" id="linkimage-0085"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/327.jpg" alt="Ury" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+Well, I thought that in a great lonesome world, that needed comfort so
+much, if he found gum a consoler, I wouldn't break it up. So I kep' still,
+and would clean the head-board silently with kerosine and a woolen rag.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Philury is a likely girl. Very freckled, but modest and unassuming.
+She is little, and has nice little features, and a round little face; and
+though she can't be said to resemble it in every particular, yet I never
+could think of any thing whenever I see her, but a nice little turkey-egg.
+</p>
+<p>
+She is very obligin', and would always curchy and smile, and say &ldquo;Yes'm&rdquo;
+ whenever I asked her to do any thing. She always would, and always will, I
+s'pose, do jest what you tell her to,&mdash;as near as she can; and she is
+thought a good deal of.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, she has liked Ury for some time&mdash;that has been plain to see:
+she thought her eyes of him, and he of her. He has got eight or nine
+hundred dollars laid up; and I thought it was well enough for 'em to marry
+if they wanted to, and so I told Josiah the first time he come into the
+house that forenoon.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he said &ldquo;he guessed our thinkin' about it wouldn't alter it much, one
+way or the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I said &ldquo;I s'posed not.&rdquo; But says I, &ldquo;I spoke out, because I feel quite
+well about it. I like 'em both, and think they'll make a happy couple: and
+to show my willin'ness still further, I mean to make a weddin' for her;
+for she hain't got no mothers, and Miss Gowdy won't have it there, for you
+know there has been such a hardness between 'em about that grindstun. So
+I'll have it here, get a good supper, and have 'em married off
+respectable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He hung back a little at first, but I argued him down. Says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heerd you say, time and agin, that you liked 'em, and wanted 'em
+to do well: now, what do good wishes ammount to, unless you are willin' to
+back 'em up with good acts?&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;I might say that I wished 'em well
+and happy, and that would be only a small expendature of wind, that
+wouldn't be no loss to me, and no petickuler help to them. But if I show
+my good will towards 'em by stirrin' up fruit-cakes and bride-cake, and
+pickin' chickens, and pressin' 'em, and makin' ice-cream and coffee and
+sandwitches, and workin' myself completely tired out, a wishin' 'em well,
+why, then they can depend on it that I am sincere in my good wishes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says Josiah, &ldquo;if you wish me well, I wish you would get me a
+little sunthin' to eat before I starve: it is past eleven o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The hand is on the pinter,&rdquo; says I calmly. &ldquo;But start a good fire, and I
+will get dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+So he did, and I did, and he never made no further objections to my
+enterprise; and it was all understood that I should get their weddin'
+supper, and they should start from here on their tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I offered, as she and Miss Gowdy didn't agree, that she might come
+back here, if she wanted to, and get some quiltin' done, and get ready for
+housekeepin'. She was tickled enough with the idee, and said she would
+help me enough to pay for her board. Ury's time wouldn't be out till about
+a month later.
+</p>
+<p>
+I told her she needn't work any for me. But she is a dretful handy little
+thing about the house, or outdoors. When Josiah was sick, and when the
+hired man happened to be away, she would go right out to the barn, and
+fodder the cattle jest as well as a man could. And Josiah said she milked
+faster than he could, to save his life. Her father had nine girls and no
+boys; and he brought some of the girls up when they was little, kinder
+boy-like, and they knew all about outdoor work.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, it was all decided on, that they should come right back here jest as
+soon as they ended their tower. They was a goin' to Ury's sister's, Miss
+Reuben Henzy's, and laid out to be gone about four days, or from four days
+to a week.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I went to cookin' for the weddin' about a week before it took place. I
+thought I would invite the minister and his wife and family, and Philury's
+sister-in-law's family,&mdash;the only one of her relations who lived near
+us, and she was poor; and her classmates at Sunday school,&mdash;there was
+twelve of 'em,&mdash;and our children and their families. And I asked Miss
+Gowdey'ses folks, but didn't expect they would come, owin' to that
+hardness about the grindstun. But everybody else come that was invited;
+and though I am far from bein' the one that ort to say it, the supper was
+successful. It was called &ldquo;excellent&rdquo; by the voice, and the far deeper
+language of consumption.
+</p>
+<p>
+They all seemed to enjoy it: and Ury took out his gum, and put it under
+the table-leaf before he begun to eat; and I found it there afterwards. He
+was excited, I s'pose, and forgot to take it agin when he left the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+Philury looked pretty. She had on a travellin'-dress of a sort of a warm
+brown,&mdash;a color that kinder set off her freckles. It was woosted, and
+trimmed with velvet of a darker shade; and her hat and her gloves matched.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her dress was picked out to suit me. Ury wanted her to be married in a
+yellow tarleton, trimmed with red. And she was jest that obleegin', clever
+creeter, that she would have done it if it hadn't been for me.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0086" id="linkimage-0086"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/331.jpg" alt="The Wedding Supper" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I says to her and to him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What use would a yeller tarleton trimmed with red be to her after she is
+married, besides lookin' like fury now?&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Get a good, sensible
+dress, that will do some good after marriage, besides lookin' good now.&rdquo;
+ Says I, &ldquo;Marriage hain't exactly in real life like what it is depictered
+in novels. Life don't end there: folks have to live afterwards, and dress,
+and work.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;If marriage was really what it is painted in that
+literature&mdash;if you didn't really have nothin' to do in the future,
+only to set on a rainbow, and eat honey, why, then, a yaller tarleton
+dress with red trimmin's would be jest the thing to wear. But,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;you will find yourself in the same old world, with the same old
+dishcloths and wipin'-towels and mops a waitin' for you to grasp, with the
+same pair of hands. You will have to konfront brooms and wash-tubs and
+darnin'-needles and socks, and etcetery, etcetery. And you must prepare
+yourself for the enkounter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She heerd to me; and that very day, after we had the talk, I took her to
+Jonesville, drivin' the old mare myself, and stood by her while she picked
+it out.
+</p>
+<p>
+And thinkin' she was young and pretty, and would want somethin' gay and
+bright, I bought some flannel for a mornin'-dress for her, and give it to
+her for a present. It was a pretty, soft gray and pink, in stripes about
+half a inch wide, and would be pretty for her for years, to wear in the
+house, and when she didn't feel well.
+</p>
+<p>
+I knew it would wash.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was awful tickled with it. And I bought a present for Ury on that same
+occasion,&mdash;two fine shirts, and two pair of socks, with gray toes and
+heels, to match the mornin'-dress. I do love to see things kompared,
+especially in such a time as this.
+</p>
+<p>
+My weddin' present for 'em was a nice cane-seat rocker, black walnut, good
+and stout, and very nice lookin'. And, knowin' she hadn't no mother to do
+for her, I gave her a pair of feather pillows and a bed-quilt,&mdash;one
+that a aunt of mine had pieced up for me. It was a blazin' star, a bright
+red and yeller, and it had always sort o' dazzled me.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ury worshiped it. I had kept it on his bed ever sense I knew what feelin's
+he had for it. He had said &ldquo;that he didn't see how any thing so beautiful
+could be made out of earthly cloth.&rdquo; And I thought now was my time to part
+with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, they had lots of good presents. I had advised the children, and the
+Sunday-school children, that, if they was goin' to give 'em any thing,
+they would give 'em somethin' that would do 'em some good.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Perforated paper lambrequins, and feather flowers, and
+cotton-yarn tidies, look well; but, after all, they are not what you may
+call so nourishin' as some other things. And there will probable rise in
+their future life contingencies where a painted match-box, and a hair-pin
+receiver, and a card-case, will have no power to charm. Even china vases
+and toilet-sets, although estimable, will not bring up a large family, and
+educate them, especially for the ministry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I s'pose I convinced 'em; for, as I heerd afterwards, the class had raised
+fifty cents apiece to get perforated paper, woosted yarn, and crystal
+beads. But they took it, and got her a set of solid silver teaspoons: the
+store-keeper threw off a dollar or two for the occasion. They was good
+teaspoons.
+</p>
+<p>
+And our children got two good linen table-cloths, and a set of
+table-napkins; and the minister's wife brought her four towels, and the
+sister-in-law a patch-work bed-quilt. And Reuben Henzy's wife sent 'em the
+money to buy 'em a set of chairs and a extension table; and a rich uncle
+of hisen sent him the money for a ingrain carpet; and a rich uncle of hern
+in the Ohio sent her the money for a bedroom set,&mdash;thirty-two
+dollars, with the request that it should be light oak, with black-walnut
+trimmin's.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I had all the things got, and took 'em up in one of our chambers, so
+folks could see 'em. And I beset Josiah Allen to give 'em for his present,
+a nice bedroom carpet. But no: he had got his mind made up to give Ury a
+yearlin' calf, and calf it must be. But he said &ldquo;he would give in to me so
+fur, that, seein' I wanted to make such a show, if I said so, he would
+take the calf upstairs, and hitch it to the bed-post.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I wouldn't parlay with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, the weddin' went off first-rate: things went to suit me, all but one
+thing. I didn't love to see Ury chew gum all the time they was bein'
+married. But he took it out and held it in his hand when he said &ldquo;Yes,
+sir,&rdquo; when the minister asked him, would he have this woman. And when she
+was asked if she would have Ury, she curchied, and said, &ldquo;Yes, if you
+please,&rdquo; jest as if Ury was roast veal or mutton, and the minister was a
+passin' him to her. She is a good-natured little thing, and always was,
+and willin'.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, they was married about four o'clock in the afternoon; and Josiah sot
+out with 'em, to take 'em to the six o'clock train, for their tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+The company staid a half-hour or so afterwards: and the children stayed a
+little longer, to help me do up the work; and finally they went. And I
+went up into the spare chamber, and sort o' fixed Philury's things to the
+best advantage; for I knew the neighbors would be in to look at 'em. And I
+was a standin' there as calm and happy as the buro or table,&mdash;and
+they looked very light and cheerful,&mdash;when all of a sudden the door
+opened, and in walked Ury Henzy, and asked me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I knew where his overhauls was?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+You could have knocked me down with a pin-feather, as it were, I was so
+smut and dumb-foundered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Ury Henzy, is it your ghost?&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;or be you Ury?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I am Ury,&rdquo; says he, lookin', I thought, kinder disappointed and
+curious.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is Philury?&rdquo; says I faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0087" id="linkimage-0087"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/335.jpg" alt="'Yes, if You Please.'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has gone on her tower,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Then, you be a ghost: you hain't Ury, and you needn't say you
+be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But jest at that minute in come Josiah Allen a snickerin'; and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have done it now, Samantha. I have done somethin' now, that is new and
+uneek.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And as he see my strange and awful looks, he continued, &ldquo;You know, you
+always say that you want a change now and then, and somethin' new, to pass
+away time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I shall most probable get it,&rdquo; says I, groanin', &ldquo;as long as I live
+with you. Now tell me at once, what you have done, Josiah Allen! I know it
+is your doin's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says he proudly, &ldquo;yes, mom. Ury never would have thought of it, or
+Philury. I got it up myself, out of my own head. It is original, and I
+want the credit of it all myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I faintly, &ldquo;I guess you won't be troubled about gettin' a patent for
+it.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;What ever put it into your head to do such a thing as this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I got to thinkin' of it on the way to the cars. Philury
+said she would love to go and see her sister in Buffalo; and Ury, of
+course, wanted to go and see his sister in Rochester. And I proposed to
+'em that she should go first to Buffalo, and see her folks, and when she
+got back, he should go to Rochester, and see his folks. I told her that I
+needed Ury's help, and she could jest as well go alone as not, after we
+got her ticket. And then in a week or so, when she had got her visit made
+out, she could come back, and help do the chores, and tend to things, and
+Ury could go. Ury hung back at first. But she smiled, and said she would
+do it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned aloud, &ldquo;That clever little creeter! You have imposed upon her,
+and she has stood it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Imposed upon her? I have made her a heroine.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Folks will make as much agin of her. I don't believe any female ever done
+any thing like it before,&mdash;not in any novel, or any thing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; I groaned. &ldquo;I don't believe they ever did.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will make her sought after. I told her it would. Folks will jest run
+after her, they will admire her so; and so I told her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Josiah Allen, you did it because you didn't want to milk. Don't
+try to make out that you had a good motive for this awful deed. Oh, dear!
+how the neighbors will talk about it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, dang it all, when they are a talkin' about this, they won't be
+lyin' about something else.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;O Josiah Allen!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Don't ever try to do any thing, or say any
+thing, or lay on any plans agin, without lettin' me know beforehand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd like to know why it hain't jest as well for 'em to go one at a time?
+They are both <i>a goin</i> You needn't worry about <i>that</i>. I hain't
+a goin' to break <i>that</i> up.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I groaned awful; and he snapped out,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want sunthin' to eat.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To eat?&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Can you eat with such a conscience? Think of that poor
+little freckled thing way off there alone!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That poor little freckled thing is with her folks by this time, as happy
+as a king.&rdquo; But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun to feel
+bad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but he tried to
+keep up, and says he, &ldquo;My conscience is clear, clear as a crystal goblet;
+and my stomack is as empty as one. I didn't eat a mouthful of supper.
+Cake, cake, and ice-cream, and jell! a dog couldn't eat it. I want some
+potatoes and meat!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he started out; and I went down, and got a good supper, but I
+sithed and groaned powerful and frequent.
+</p>
+<p>
+Philury got home safely from her bridal tower, lookin' clever, but
+considerable lonesome.
+</p>
+<p>
+Truly, men are handy on many occasions, and in no place do they seem more
+useful and necessary than on a weddin' tower.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah would
+whisper to me every chance he got,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and there
+wuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower.&rdquo; Josiah always stands up
+for his sect.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I would answer him every time,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together, like
+human bein's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' about
+the milkin'. <i>There was where the shoe pinched</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back from
+Washington. And he stopped lookin' cross, and looked placid, and sunshiny.
+That man thinks his eyes of Cicely, both of 'em; and so do I.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I see that she looked fagged out.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she told me how hard she had worked ever sence she had been gone. She
+had been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done every
+thing she could with her influence and her money. She was willin' to spend
+her money like rain-water, if it would help any.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she said it seemed as if the powers against it was greater than ever,
+and she was heart-sick and weary.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had had another letter from the executor, too, that worried her.
+</p>
+<p>
+She told me that, after she went up to her room at night, and the boy was
+asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had took off her heavy mournin'-dress, covered with crape, and put on
+a pretty white loose dress; and she laid her head down in my lap, and I
+smoothed her shinin' hair, and says to her,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are all tired out to-night, Cicely: you'll feel better in the
+mornin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But she didn't: she was sick in bed the next day, and for two or three
+days.
+</p>
+<p>
+And it was arranged, that, jest as quick as she got well enough to go, I
+was to go with her to see the executor, to see if we couldn't make him
+change his mind. It was only half a day's ride on the cars, and I'd go
+further to please her.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she was sick for most a week. And the boy meant to be good. He wanted
+to be, and I know it.
+</p>
+<p>
+But though he was such a sweet disposition, and easy to mind, he was
+dretful easy led away by temptation, and other boys.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, Cicely had told him that he <i>must not</i> go a fishin' in the creek
+back of the house, there was such deep places in it; and he must not go
+there till he got older.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he would <i>mean</i> to mind, I would know it by his looks. He would
+look good and promise. But mebby in a hour's time little Let Peedick would
+stroll over here, and beset the boy to go; and the next thing she'd know,
+he would be down to the creek, fishin' with a bent pin.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0088" id="linkimage-0088"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/340.jpg" alt="Led Astray" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And Cicely had told him he <i>mustn't</i> go in a swimmin'. But he went;
+and because it made his mother feel bad, he would deceive her jest as
+good-natured as you ever see.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, once he come in with his pretty brown curls all wet, and his little
+shirt on wrong side out.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was kinder whistlin', and tryin' to act indifferent and innocent. And
+when his mother questioned him about it, he said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had drinked so much water, that it had soaked through somehow to his
+hair. And he turned his shirt gettin' over the fence. And we might ask Let
+Peedick if it wuzn't so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+We could hear Letty a whistlin' out to the barn, and we knew he stood
+ready to say &ldquo;he see the shirt turn.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But we didn't ask.
+</p>
+<p>
+But when the boy see that his actin' and behavin' made his mother feel
+real bad, he would ask her forgiveness jest as sweet; and I knew he meant
+to do jest right, and mebby he would for as much as an hour, or till some
+temptation come along&mdash;or boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the good-tempered easiness to be led astray made Cicely feel like
+death: she had seen it in another; she see it was a inherited trait. And
+she could see jest how hard it was goin' to make his future: she would try
+her best to break him of it. But how, how was she goin' to do it, with
+them weak, good-natured lips, and that chin?
+</p>
+<p>
+But she tried, and she prayed.
+</p>
+<p>
+And, oh, how we all loved the boy! We loved him as we did the apples in
+our eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+But as I said, he was a child that had his spells. Sometimes he would be
+very truthful and honest,&mdash;most too much so. That was when he had his
+sort o' dreamy spells.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0089" id="linkimage-0089"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/342.jpg" alt="The Boy's Explanation" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I know one day, she that wus Kezier Lum come here a visitin'. She is
+middlin' old, and dretful humbly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Paul sot and looked at her face for a long time, with that sort of a
+dreamy look of hisen; and finally he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was you ever a young child?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, law me! yes, I s'pose so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I would rather have died young, than to grow up, and be so
+homely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0090" id="linkimage-0090"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/343.jpg" alt="She That Wus Kezier Lum" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+I riz up, and led him out of the room quick, and told him &ldquo;never to talk
+so agin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, I told the truth, aunt Samantha.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, truth hain't to be spoken at all times.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mother punished me last night for not telling the truth, and told me to
+tell it always.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then I tried to explain things to him; and he looked sweet, and said
+&ldquo;he would try and remember not to hurt folks'es feelin's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He never thought of doin' it in the first place, and I knew it. And I
+declare, I thought to myself, as I went back into the room,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We whip children for tellin' lies, and shake 'em for tellin' the truth.
+Poor little creeters! they have a hard time of it, anyway.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But when I went back into the room, I see Kezier was mad. And she said in
+the course of our conversation, that &ldquo;she thought Cicely was too much took
+up on the subject of intemperance, and some folks said she was crazy on
+the subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Kezier was always a high-headed sort of a woman, without a nerve in her
+body. I don't believe her teeth has got nerves; though I wouldn't want to
+swear to it, never havin' filled any for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says back to her, for it made me mad to see Cicely run,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;She hain't the first one that has been called crazy, when they
+wus workin' for truth and right. And if the old possles stood it, to be
+called crazy, and drunken with new wine&mdash;why, I s'pose Cicely can.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;don't you believe she is almost crazy on that subject?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, deep and earnest, &ldquo;It is a <i>good</i> crazy, if it is. And,&rdquo; says
+I, &ldquo;to s'posen the case,&mdash;s'posen the one we loved best in the world,
+your Ebineezer, or my Josiah, should have been ruined, and led into
+murder, by drinkin' milk, don't you believe we should have been sort o'
+crazy ever afterwards on the milk question?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;milk won't make anybody crazy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There it wuz&mdash;she hadn't no imagination.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;I am s'posen milk, I don't mean it.&rdquo; Says I, &ldquo;Cicely means well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And so she did, sweet little soul.
+</p>
+<p>
+But day by day I could see that her eagerness to accomplish what she had
+sot out to, her awful anxiety about the boy's future, wus a wearin' on
+her: the active, keen mind, the throbbin', achin' heart, was a wearin' out
+the tender body.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her eyes got bigger and bigger every day; and her face got the solemnest,
+curiusest look to it, that I ever see.
+</p>
+<p>
+And her cheeks looked more and more like the pure white blow of the Sweet
+Cicely, only at times there would be a red upon 'em, as if a leaf out of a
+scarlet rose had dropped dowrn upon their pure whiteness.
+</p>
+<p>
+That would be in the afternoon; and there would be such a dazzlin'
+brightness in her eyes, that I used to wonder if it was the fire of
+immortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have been
+executed with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)&mdash;he wuz
+sot, a good man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the
+ground than he wuz sot on top of it. And he didn't like a woman's
+interference. He wrote to her that one of her stores, that he had always
+rented for the sale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool
+blankets, and etcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a new
+saloon and billiard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose; and he
+told how much more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons, that wuz
+in the boy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a drawin' some
+other mother's boys down to ruin.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said,&mdash;said she was
+afraid the curses of these mothers would fall on the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face grew
+thinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks regular
+every afternoon, and she begun to cough bad.
+</p>
+<p>
+But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went to
+see the executor, Condelick Post.
+</p>
+<p>
+We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove
+there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out
+for Mr. Post'ses office.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0091" id="linkimage-0091"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/346.jpg" alt="Condelick Post" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so at
+her, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be to
+tell her errent. I knew he would do every thing jest as she wanted him to.
+His smile was truly bland&mdash;I don't think I ever see a blander one, or
+amiabler.
+</p>
+<p>
+I guess she was kinder encouraged, too, for she begun real sort o'
+cheerful a tellin' what she come for,&mdash;that she wanted him to rent
+these buildin's for some other purpose than drinkin' and billiard saloons.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he went on in jest as cheerful a way, almost jokeuler, to tell her
+&ldquo;that he couldn't do any thing of the kind, and he was doing the business
+to the best of his ability, and he couldn't change it at all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then Cicely, in a courteus, reasonable voice, begun to argue with him;
+told him jest how bad she felt about it, and urged him to grant her
+request.
+</p>
+<p>
+But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half so
+polite.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued the
+right of the thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+She said when she was married, her husband took the whole of her property,
+and invested it for her in these very buildings. And in reality, it was
+her own property. The most of her husband's wealth was in the mills and
+government bonds. But she wanted her money invested here, because she
+wanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let the interest
+accumulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel, for the workmen
+at the mills.
+</p>
+<p>
+And says she, &ldquo;Is it <i>right</i> that my own property should be used for
+what I consider such wicked purposes?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any other
+investment that I have been able to make. And you know your husband's will
+provides handsomely for you&mdash;the yearly allowance is very handsome
+indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all I wish, and more than I care for. I am not speaking of that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it is very handsome indeed. And by the time Paul is of age, in the
+way I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man in
+this section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints, will
+be of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight of
+heavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But there
+will be nothing of the kind, I assure you,&rdquo; says he, with a patronizing
+smile. &ldquo;It will all be invested in government bonds,&mdash;good, honest
+dollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and these words, 'In God we trust.' But do you know,&rdquo; says she, with
+the red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes brighter,&mdash;&ldquo;do
+you know, if one did not possess great faith, they would be apt to doubt
+the existence of a God, who can allow such injustice?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What injustice, my dear madam?&rdquo; says he, smilin' blandly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know, Mr. Post, just how my husband died: you know he was killed by
+intemperance. A drinking-saloon was just as surely the cause of his death,
+as the sword is, that pierces through a man's heart. Intemperance was the
+cause of his crime. He, the one I loved better than my own self,
+infinitely better, was made a murderer by it. I have lost him,&rdquo; says she,
+a throwin' out her arms with a wild gesture that skairt me. &ldquo;I have lost
+him by it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And her eyes looked as big and wild and wretched, as if she was lookin'
+down the endless ages of eternity, a tryin' to find her love, and knew she
+couldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed to
+conquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, and
+speak calmly for the sake of her boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, after I have suffered by it as I have, is it right, is it just,
+that I should be compelled to allow my property to be used to make other
+women's hearts, other mothers' hearts, ache as mine must ache forever?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, my dear madam, the law, as it is now, gives me the right to do as I
+am doing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant my
+prayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, to
+beg for mercy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women are
+the real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a rod of
+iron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real autocrats
+of&mdash;of the breakfast-table, and of life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago. He
+forgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had almost
+entirely gone out of fashion. And it was a good deal more stylish now to
+talk to wimmen as if they wuz human bein's, and men wuz too.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Cicely looked at him calm and earnest, and says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you do as I wish you to in this matter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, really, my dear madam, I don't quite get at your meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you let this store remain as it is, and rent those other saloons to
+honest business men for some other purpose than drinking-saloons?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;O my dear, dear madam! What can you be thinking of? The rent that I get
+from those four buildings is equal in amount to any eight of the other
+buildings of the same size. I cannot, I cannot, consent to make any
+changes whatever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will not, then, do as I wish?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I <i>cannot</i>, my dear madam: I prefer to put it in that way,&mdash;I
+cannot. I do not see as you do in the matter. And as the law empowers me
+to use my own discretion in renting the buildings, investing money, etc.,
+I shall be obliged to do so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cicely got up: she was white as snow now, but as quiet as snow ever wus.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Post got up, too, about the politest actin' man I ever see, a movin'
+chairs out of the way, and a smilin', and a waitin' on us out. He was
+ready to give plenty of politeness to Cicely, but no justice.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I guess he was kinder sorry to see how white and sad she looked, for
+he spoke out in a sort of a comfortin' voice,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have had great sorrows, Mrs. Slide, but you have also a great deal to
+comfort you. Just think of how many other widows have been left in
+poverty, or, as you may say, penury, and you are rich.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cicely turned then, and made the longest speech I ever heard her make.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0092" id="linkimage-0092"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/351.jpg" alt="Licensed Wretchedness" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, many a drunkard's wife is clothed in rags, and goes hungry to bed at
+night, with her hungry children crying for bread about her. She can lie on
+her cold pile of rags, with the snow sifting down on her, and think that
+her husband, a sober, honest man once, was made a low, brutal wretch by
+intemperance; that he drank up all his property, killed himself by strong
+drink, was buried in a pauper's grave, and left a starving wife and
+children, to live if they could. The cold of winter freezes her, the want
+of food makes her faint, and to see her little ones starving about her
+makes her heart ache, no doubt. I have plenty of money, fine clothes,
+dainty food, diamonds on my fingers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says she, stretching out her little white hands, and smilin' the bitterest
+smile I ever see on Cicely's face,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But do you not think, that, as I lie on my warm, soft couch at night, my
+heart is wrung by a keener pang than that drunkard's wife can ever know? I
+can lie and think that by my means, my wealth, I am making just such homes
+as that, making just such broken hearts, just such starving children,
+filling just such paupers' graves,&mdash;laying up a long store of curses
+and judgments, for my boy's inheritance. And I am powerless to do any
+thing but suffer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she opened the door, and walked right out. And Mr. Post stood and
+smiled till we got to the bottom of the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-afternoon, <i>good</i>-afternoon, my clear madam, call again; happy
+to see you&mdash;<i>Good</i>-afternoon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, Cicely went right to bed the minute we got home; and she never eat a
+mite of supper, only drinked a cup of tea, and thanked me so pretty for
+bringin' it to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+And there was such a sad and helpless, and sort of a outraged, look in her
+pretty brown eyes, some as a noble animal might have, who wus at bay with
+the cruel hunters all round it. And so I told Josiah after I went
+down-stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 87 questions about &ldquo;a animal at
+bay,&rdquo; and what kind of a bay it was&mdash;was it the bay to a barn? or on
+the water? or&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh my land! my land! How I did suffer!
+</p>
+<p>
+But Cicely grew worse fast, from that very day. She seemed to run right
+down.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XII.
+</h2>
+<p>
+One day Cicely had been worryin' dretfully all the forenoon about the boy.
+And I declare, it seemed so pitiful to hear her talk and forebode about
+him, with her face lookin' so wan and white, and her big eyes so sorrowful
+lookin', as if they was lookin' onto all the sadness and trouble of the
+world, and couldn't help herself&mdash;such a sort of a hopeless look, and
+lovin' and broken-hearted, that it was all I could do to stand it without
+breakin' right down, and cry in' with her.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I knew her state, and held firm. And she went over all the old grounds
+agin to me, that she had foreboded on; and I went over all the old grounds
+of soothing agin and agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, good land! I had had practice enough. For every day, and every night,
+would she forebode and forebode, and I would soothe and soothe, till I
+declare for't, I should have felt (to myself) a good deal like a
+bread-and-milk poultice, or even lobelia or catnip, if my feelin's on the
+subject hadn't been so dretful deep and solemn, deeper than any poultice
+that was ever made&mdash;and solemner.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, Tirzah Ann says to me one day,&mdash;she had been settin' with Cicely
+for a hour or two; and she come out a cryin', and says she,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mother, I don't see how you can stand it. It would break my heart to see
+Cicely's broken-hearted look, and hear her talk for half a day; and you
+have to hear her all the time.&rdquo; And she wiped her eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;Tongue can't tell, Tirzah Ann, how your ma's heart does ache
+for her. And,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if I knew myself, I had got to die and leave a boy
+in the world with such temptations round him, and such a chin on him, why,
+I don't know what I should do, and what I shouldn't do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And says Tirzah Ann, &ldquo;That is jest the way I feel, mother;&rdquo; and we both of
+us wiped our eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+But I held firm before her, and reminded her every time, of what she knew
+already,&mdash;&ldquo;that there was One who was strong, who comforted her in
+her hour of need, and He would watch over the boy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And sometimes she would be soothed for a little while, and sometimes she
+wouldn't.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, this day, as I said, she had worried and worried and worried. And at
+last I had soothed her down, real soothed. And she asked me before I went
+down-stairs, for a poem, a favorite one of hers,&mdash;&ldquo;The Celestial
+Country.&rdquo; And I gin it to her. And she said I might shet the door, and she
+would read a spell, and she guessed she should drop to sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as I was goin' out of the room, she called me back to hear a verse or
+two she particularly liked, about the &ldquo;endless, ageless peace of Syon:&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;True vision of true beauty,
+Sweet cure of all distrest.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+<p>
+And I stood calm, and heard her with a smooth, placid face, though I knew
+my pies was a scorchin' in the oven, for I smelt 'em. I did well by
+Cicely.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0093" id="linkimage-0093"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/355.jpg" alt="Samantha Listening to Cicely" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+After she finished it, I told her it was perfectly beautiful, and I left
+her feelin' quite bright; and there wuzn't but one of my pies spilte, and
+I didn't care if it wuz. I wuzn't goin' to have her feelin's hurt, pies or
+no pies.
+</p>
+<p>
+After I got my pies out, I went into my nearest neighbor's on a errent,
+tellin' Josiah to stay in Thomas Jefferson's room, just acrost from
+Cicely's, so's if she wanted any thing, he could get it for her. I wuzn't
+gone over a hour, and, when I went back, I went up-stairs the first thing;
+and I found Cicely a cryin,' though there was a softer, more contented
+look in her eyes than I had seen there for a long time.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I says, &ldquo;What is the matter, Cicely?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And she says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! if I had been a better woman, I could have seen my mother! she has
+been here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, Cicely!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Here, take some of this jell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But she put it away, and says in a sort of a solemn, happy tone,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has been here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She said it jest as earnest and serene as I ever heard any thing said; and
+there was a look in her eyes some as there wuz when she come home from her
+aunt Mary's, and told me &ldquo;she almost wished her aunt had died while she
+was there, because she felt that her mother would be the angel sent from
+heaven to convey her aunt's soul home&mdash;and she could have seen her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was that same sort of deep, soulful, sad, and yet happy look to her
+eyes, as she repeated,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has been here! I was lying here, aunt Samantha, reading 'The
+Celestial Country,' not thinking of any thing but my book, when suddenly I
+felt something fanning my forehead, like a wing passing gently over my
+face. And then something said to me just as plain as I am speaking to you,
+only, instead of being spoken aloud, it was said to my soul,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You have wanted to see your mother: she is here with you.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I dropped my book, and sprung up, and stood trembling, and reached
+out my hands, and cried,&mdash;&ldquo;'Mother! mother! where are you? Oh! how I
+have wanted you, mother!'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then that same voice said to my heart again,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'God will take care of the boy.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And as I stood there trembling, the room seemed full. You know how you
+would feel if your eyes were shut, and you were placed in a room full of
+people. You would know they were there&mdash;you would feel their
+presence, though you couldn't see them. You know what the Bible says,&mdash;'Seeing
+we are encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses.' That word just
+describes what I felt. There seemed to be all about me, a great cloud of
+people. And I put my arms out, and made a rush through them, as you would
+through a dense crowd, and said again,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mother! mother! where are you? Speak to me again.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then, suddenly, there seemed to be a stir, a movement in the room,
+something I was conscious of with some finer, more vivid sense than
+hearing. It seemed to be a great crowd moving, receding. And farther off,
+but clear, these words came to me again, sweet and solemn,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'God will take care of the boy.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then I seemed to be alone. And I went out into the hall; and uncle
+Josiah heard me, and he came out, and asked me what the matter was.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I told him 'I didn't know.' And my strength left me then; and he took
+me up in his arms, and brought me back into my room, and laid me on the
+lounge, and gave me some wine, and I couldn't help crying.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What for, dear?&rdquo; says I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because I wasn't good enough to see my mother. If I had only been good
+enough, I could have seen her. For she was here, aunt Samantha, right in
+this room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Her eyes wus so big and solemn and earnest, that I knew she meant what she
+said. But I soothed her down as well as I could, and I says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mebby you had dropped to sleep, Cicely: mebby you dremp it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says Josiah, who had come in, and heard my last words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Cicely, you dremp it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, after a while Cicely stopped cryin', and dropped to sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now what I am goin' to tell you is the <i>truth</i>. You can believe
+it, or not, jest as you are a mind to; but it is the <i>truth</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+That night, at sundown, Thomas J. come in with a telegram for Cicely; and
+she says, without actin' a mite surprised,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Aunt Mary is dead.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And sure enough, when she opened it, it was so. She died jest before the
+time Cicely come out into the hall. Josiah remembered plain. The clock had
+jest struck two as she opened the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her aunt died at two.
+</p>
+<p>
+This is the plain truth; and I will make oath to it, and so will Josiah.
+And whether Cicely dremp it, or whether she didn't; whether it wus jest a
+coincidin' coincidence, her havin' these feelin's at exactly the time her
+aunt died, or not,&mdash;I don't know any more than you do. I jest put
+down the facts, and you can draw your own inferences from 'em, and draw
+'em jest as fur as you want to, and as many of 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0094" id="linkimage-0094"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/359.jpg" alt="Thomas Jefferson Bringing Cicely's Telegram" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But that night, way along in the night, as I lay awake a musin' on it, and
+a wonderin',&mdash;for I say plain that my specks hain't strong enough to
+see through the mysteries that wrap us round on every side,&mdash;I
+s'posed my companion wus asleep; but he spoke out sudden like, and
+decided, as if I had been a disputin' of him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, most probable she dremp it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I hain't disputed you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hain't you a goin' to?&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I. And that seemed to quiet him down, and he went to sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I give up, that most probable she did, or didn't, one of the two.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0095" id="linkimage-0095"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/360.jpg" alt="'most Probable She Dremp It'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But anyway, from that night, she didn't worry one bit about the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+She would talk to him sights about his bein' a good boy, but she would act
+and talk as if she was <i>sure</i> he would. She would look at him, not
+with the old, pitiful, agonized look, but with a sweet and happy light in
+her eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I guessed that she thought that the laws would be changed before the
+boy was of age. I thought that she felt real encouraged to think the march
+of civilization was a marchin' on, pretty slow but sure, and, before the
+boy got old enough to go out into a world full of temptations, there would
+be wiser laws, purer influences, to help the boy to be a good and noble
+man, which is about the best thing we know of, here below.
+</p>
+<p>
+No, she never worried one worry about him after that day, not a single
+worry. But she made her will, and it was fixed lawful too. She wanted Paul
+to stay with us till he was old enough to send off to school and college.
+And she wanted her property and Paul's too, if he should die before he was
+of age, should be used to found a school, and a home for the children of
+drunkards. A good school and a Christian home, to teach them and help them
+to be good, and good citizens.
+</p>
+<p>
+Josiah Allen and Thomas J. and I was appinted to see to it, appinted by
+law. It was to be right in them buildings that wus used now for
+dram-shops: them very housen was to be used to send out good influences
+and spirits into the world instead of the vile, murderous, brutal spirits,
+they wus sendin' out now.
+</p>
+<p>
+And wuzn't it sort o' pitiful to think on, that Cicely had to <i>die</i>
+before her property could be used as she wanted it to be,&mdash;could be
+used to send out blessings into the world, instead of 'cursings and
+wickedness, as it was now? It was pitiful to look on it with the eye of a
+woman; but I kep' still, and tried to look on it with the eye of the
+United States, and held firm.
+</p>
+<p>
+And we give her our solemn promises, that in case the job fell to us to
+do, it should be tended to, to the very best of our three abilities.
+Thomas J., bein' a good lawyer, could be relied on.
+</p>
+<p>
+The executor consented to it,&mdash;I s'pose because he was so dretful
+polite, and he thought it would be a comfort to Cicely. He knew there
+wuzn't much danger of its ever takin' place, for Paul was a healthy child.
+And his appetite was perfectly startlin' to any one who never see a
+child's appetite.
+</p>
+<p>
+I estimated, and estimated calmly, that there wuzn't a hour of the day
+that he couldn't eat a good, hearty meal. But truly, it needed a strong
+diet to keep up his strength. For oh! oh! the questions that child would
+ask! He would get me and Philury pantin' for breath in the house, and then
+go out with calmness and strength to fatigue his uncle Josiah and Ury
+nearly unto death.
+</p>
+<p>
+But they loved him, and so did I, with a deep, pantin', tired-out
+affection. We loved him better and better as the days rolled by: the
+tireder we got with him seemin'ly, the more we loved him.
+</p>
+<p>
+But one hope that had boyed me up durin' the first weeks of my intercourse
+with him, died out. I did think, that, in the course of time, he would get
+all asked out. There wouldn't be a thing more in heavens or on earth, or
+under the earth, that he hadn't enquired in perticular about.
+</p>
+<p>
+But as days passed by, I see the fallicy of my hopes. Insperation seemed
+to come to him; questions would spring up spontanious in his mind; the
+more he asked, the more spontaniouser they seemed to spring.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, for instance, one evenin' he asked me about 3,000 questions about the
+Atlantic Ocian, its whales and sharks and tides and steamships and islands
+and pirates and cable and sailors and coral and salt, and etc., etc., and
+etcetery; and after a hour or two he couldn't think of another thing to
+ask, seemin'ly. And I begun to get real encouraged, though fagged to the
+very outmost limit of fag, when he drew a long breath, and says with a
+perfectly fresh, vigorous look,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0096" id="linkimage-0096"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/363.jpg" alt="The Boy Asking Questions" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now less begin on the Pacific.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I answered kindly, but with firmness,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can't tackle any more ocians to-night, I am too tuckered out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, glancin' out of the window at the new moon which hung
+like a slender golden bow in the west, &ldquo;don't you think the moon to-night
+is shaped some like a hammock? and if I set down in it with my feet
+hanging out, would I be dizzy? and if I should curl my feet up, and lay
+back in it, and sail&mdash;and sail&mdash;and sail up into the sky, could
+I find out about things up in the heavens? Could I find the One up there
+that set me to breathing? And who made the One that made me? And where was
+I before I was made?&mdash;and uncle Josiah and Ury? And why wouldn't I
+tell him where we was before we was anywhere? and if we wasn't anywhere,
+did I suppose we would want to be somewhere? and <i>say</i>&mdash;SAY&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, dear me! dear me! how I did suffer!
+</p>
+<p>
+But a better child never lived than he was, and I would have loved to seen
+anybody dispute it. He was a lovely child, and very deep.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he would back up to you, and get up into your lap, with such a calm,
+assured air of owning you, as if you was his possession by right of
+discovery. And he would look up into your face with such a trustin',
+angelic look as he tackled you, that, no matter how tuckered out you would
+get, you was jest as ready for him the next time, jest as ready to be
+tackled and tuckered.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was up with his mother a good deal. He would get up on the bed, and lay
+by her side; and she would hold him close, and talk good to him, dretful
+good.
+</p>
+<p>
+I heard her tellin' him one day, that, &ldquo;if ever he had a man's influence
+and strength, he must use them wisely, and deal tenderly and gently by
+those who were weaker, and in his power. That a manly man was never
+ashamed of doing what was right, no matter how many opposed him; that it
+was manly and noble to be pure and good, and helpful to all who needed
+help.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And he must remember, if he ever got tired out and discouraged trying to
+be good himself, and helping others to be good, that he was never alone,
+that his loving Father would always be with him, and <i>she</i> should.
+She should never be far away from her boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it would only be a little while at the longest, before she should
+take him in her arms again, before life here would end, and the new and
+glorious life begin, that he must fit himself for. That life here was so
+short that it wasn't worth while to spend any part of it in less worthy
+work than in loving and serving with all his strength God and man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I thought as I listened to her, that her talk had the simplicity of a
+child, and the wisdom of all the philosiphers.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yes, she would talk to him dretful good, a holdin' him close in her arms,
+and lookin' on him with that fur-off, happy look in her eyes, that I loved
+and hated to see,&mdash;loved to see because it was so beautiful and
+sweet, hated to see because it seemed to set her so fur apart from all of
+us.
+</p>
+<p>
+It seemed as though, while her body was here below, she herself was a
+livin' in another world than ourn: you could see its bright radience in
+her eyes, hear its sweet and peaceful echoes in her voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was with us, and she wuzn't with us; and I'd smile and cry about it,
+and cry and smile, and couldn't help it, and didn't want to.
+</p>
+<p>
+And seein' her so satisfied about the boy&mdash;why, seein' her feel so
+good about him, made us feel good too. And seein' her so contented and
+happy, made us contented and happy&mdash;some.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so the peaceful weeks went by, Cicely growin' weaker and weaker all
+the time in body, but happier and happier in her mind; so sweet and
+serene, that we all felt, that, instead of being sad, it was somethin'
+beautiful to die.
+</p>
+<p>
+And as the long, sweet days passed by, the look in her eyes grew clearer,&mdash;the
+look that reminded us of the summer skies in early mornin', soft and dark,
+with a prophecy in them of the coming brightness and glory of the full
+day.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0097" id="linkimage-0097"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/366.jpg" alt="Tirzah Ann and Maggie in the Democrat" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+The mornin' of the last day in June Cicely was not so well; and I sent for
+the doctor in the mornin', and told Ury to have Tirzah Ann and Maggie come
+home and spend the day. Which they did.
+</p>
+<p>
+And in the afternoon she grew worse so fast, that towards night I sent for
+the doctor again.
+</p>
+<p>
+He didn't give any hope, and said the end was very near. A little before
+night the boys come,&mdash;Thomas Jefferson and Whitfield.
+</p>
+<p>
+The sun went down; and it was a clear, beautiful evenin', though there was
+no moon. All was still in the house: the lamp was lighted, but the doors
+and windows was open, and the smell of the blossoms outside come in sweet;
+and every thing seemed so peacful and calm, that we could not feel
+sorrowful, much as we loved her.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had wanted the boy on the bed with her; and I told Josiah and the
+children we would go out, and leave her alone with him. Only, the doctor
+sot by the window, with the lamp on a little stand by the side of him, and
+the mornin'-glories hangin' their clusters down between him and the sweet,
+still night outside.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cicely's voice was very low and faint; but we could hear her talkin' to
+him, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was all
+still, and we heard the doctor go to the bedside; and we all went in,&mdash;Josiah
+and the children and me. And as we stood there, a light fell on Cicely's
+face,&mdash;every one in the room saw it,&mdash;a white, pure light, like
+no other light on earth, unless it was something like that wonderful new
+light&mdash;that has a soul. It was something like that clear white light,
+falling through a soft shade. It was jest as plainly visible to us as the
+lamplight at the other end of the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on her
+smilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from us
+all. For that strange, beautiful glow on her face wrapped her about,
+separated her from us all, who stood outside.
+</p>
+<p>
+The boy had fallen asleep, his dimpled arms around her neck, and his
+moist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to her
+heart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed the
+boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+She heard voices we could not hear, for she answered them in low tones,&mdash;contented,
+happy tones. She saw faces we couldn't see, for she looked at them with
+wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us, fur away from us who
+loved her,&mdash;we who were on this earth still. Love still held her
+here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the human; but her sweet
+soul had got with its true kindred, the pure in heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0098" id="linkimage-0098"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/368.jpg" alt="Death of Cicely" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But still her arms was round the boy,&mdash;white, soft arms of flesh,
+that held him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes
+on him; and, oh! what a look that was,&mdash;a look of such full peace,
+and rapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all that
+should happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, had
+blossomed, and bore the ripe fruit of blessedness.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last that beautiful light grew dimmer, and more dim, till it was gone&mdash;gone
+with the pure soul of our sweet Cicely.
+</p>
+<p>
+That night, way along in the night, I wuzn't sleeping, and I wuzn't
+crying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in my
+mind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could never
+forget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when they
+would see an angel standin' with furled wings outside their tents.
+</p>
+<p>
+I thought Josiah was asleep; but it seems he wuzn't, for he spoke out sort
+o' decided like,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Most probable it was the lamp.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIII.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was a lovely mornin' about three weeks after Cicely's death. Josiah had
+to go to Jonesville to mill, and the boy wanted to go to; and so I put on
+his little cloak and hat, and told him he might go.
+</p>
+<p>
+We didn't act cast down and gloomy before the boy, Josiah and me didn't.
+He had worried for his ma dretfully, at first. But we had made every thing
+of him, and petted him. And I had told him that she had gone to a lovely
+place, and was there a waitin' for him. And I would say it to him with as
+cheerful a face as I could. (I knew I could do my own cryin', out to one
+side.)
+</p>
+<p>
+And he believed me. He believed every word I said to him. And he would ask
+me sights and sights of questions about &ldquo;the <i>place</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And &ldquo;if it was inside the gate, that uncle Josiah had read about,&mdash;that
+gate that was big and white, like a pearl? And if it would float down
+through the sky some day, and stand still in front of him? And would the
+gate swing open so he could see into the City? and would it be all
+glorious with golden streets, and shining, and full of light? And would
+his mamma Cicely stand just inside, and reach out her arms to him?&mdash;those
+pretty white arms.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then the boy would sob and cry. And I'd soothe him, and swaller hard,
+and say &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; and didn't think it was wicked, when he would be a sobbin'
+so.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then he'd ask, &ldquo;Would she take him in her arms, and be glad to see her
+own little boy again? And would he have long to wait?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I'd comfort him, and tell him, &ldquo;No, it wouldn't be but a little time
+to wait.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And didn't think it was wicked, for it wuzn't long anyway. For &ldquo;our days
+are but shadows that flee away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Wall, he loved us, some. And we loved him, and did well by him; and bein'
+a child, we could sometimes comfort him with childish things.
+</p>
+<p>
+And this mornin' he wus all excitement about goin' to Jonesville with his
+uncle Josiah. And I gin him some pennys to get some oranges for him and
+the babe, and they set off feelin' quite chirk.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I sot down to mend a vest for my Josiah. And I was a settin' there a
+mendin' it,&mdash;one of the pockets had gin out, and it was frayed round
+the edges.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I sot there a sewin' on that fray, peaceful and calm and serene as the
+outside of the vest, which was farmer's satin, and very smooth and
+shinin'. The weather also wus as mild and serene as the vest, if not
+serener. I had got my work all done up as slick as a pin: the floor
+glittered like yellow glass, the stove shone a agreable black, a good
+dinner was a cookin'. And I sot there, happy, as I say; for though, when I
+had done so much work that mornin', if that vest had belonged to anybody
+else, it would have looked like a stent to me, I didn't mind it, for it
+was for my Josiah: and love makes labor light,&mdash;light as day.
+</p>
+<p>
+I was jest a thinkin' this, and a thinkin' that though I had jest told
+Josiah, from a sense of duty, that &ldquo;he had broke that pocket down by
+luggin' round so much stuff in it, and there was no sense in actin' as if
+he could carry round a hull car-load of things in his vest-pocket;&rdquo; though
+I had spoken to him thus, from a sense of duty, tryin' to keep him
+straight and upright in his demeaner,&mdash;still, I was a thinkin' how
+pleasant it wuz to work for them you loved, and that loved you: for though
+he had snapped me up considerable snappish, and said &ldquo;he should carry
+round in his pockets as much as he was a minter; and if I didn't want to
+mend it, I could let it alone,&rdquo; and had throwed it down in the corner, and
+slammed the door considerable hard when he went out, still, I knew that
+this slight pettishness was only the light bubbles that rises above the
+sparkling wine. I knew his love for me lay pure and clear and sparklin' in
+the very depths of his soul.
+</p>
+<p>
+I was a settin' there, thinkin' about it, and thinkin' how true love, such
+as mine and hisen, glorified a earthly existence, when all of a sudden I
+heard a rap come onto the kitchen door right behind me; and I says, &ldquo;Come
+in.&rdquo; And a tall, slim feller entered, with light hair, and sort o' thin,
+and a patient, determined countenance onto him. A sort of a persistent
+look to him, as if he wuzn't one to be turned round by trifles. I didn't
+dislike his looks a mite at first, and sot him a chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+But little did I think what was a comin'. For, if you will believe it, he
+hadn't much more than got sot down when he says to me right there, in the
+middle of the forenoon, and right to my face,&mdash;the mean, miserable,
+lowlived scamp,&mdash;says he, right there, in broad daylight, and without
+blushing, or any thing, says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I called this morning, mom, to see if I couldn't sell you a feller.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sell me a feller!&rdquo; I jest made out to say, for I wus fairly paralyzed by
+his impudence. &ldquo;Sell me a feller!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: I have got some of the best kinds they make, and I didn't know but I
+could sell you one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sez I, gettin' my tongue back, &ldquo;Buy a feller! you ask me, at my age, and
+with my respectability, and after carryin' round such principles as I have
+been carryin' round for years and years, you ask me to buy a feller!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes: I didn't know but you would want one. I have got the best kind there
+is made.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll let you know, young man,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;I'll let you know that I have got
+a feller of my own, as good a one as was ever made, one I have had for 20
+years and over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, mom,&rdquo; says he, with that stiddy, determined way of hisen, &ldquo;a feller
+that you have had for 20 years must be out of gear by this time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Out of gear!&rdquo; says I, speakin' up sharp. &ldquo;You will be out of gear
+yourself, young man, if I hear any more such talk out of your head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you will excuse me, mom,&rdquo; says he, in that patient way of hisen.
+&ldquo;It hain't my way to run down anybody's else's fellers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I guess you hadn't better try it again in this house,&rdquo; says I
+warmly. &ldquo;I guess it won't be very healthy for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0099" id="linkimage-0099"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/374.jpg" alt="Agent Trying to Sell Samantha a Feller" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can't I sell you some other attachment, mom? I have got 'em of all
+kinds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sell me another attachment? No, sir. You can't sell me another
+attachment. My attachment is as firm and endurin' as the rocks, and has
+always been, and is one not to be bought and sold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I presume yours was good in the day of 'em, mom, but they must be
+old-fashioned. I have the very best and newest attachments of all kinds.
+But I make a specialty of my fellers. You'd better let me sell you a
+feller, mom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+I declare for't, my first thought was, to turn him right outdoors, and
+shet the door in his face. And then agin, I thought, I am a member of the
+meetin'-house. I must be patient and long sufferin', and may be here is a
+chance for me to do good. Thinks'es I, if I was ever eloquent in a good
+cause, I must be now. I must convince him of the nefariousness of his
+conduct. And if soarin' in eloquence can do it, why, I must soar. And so I
+begun.
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I, wavin' my right hand in a broad, soarin', eloquent wave, &ldquo;Young
+man, when you talk about buyin' and sellin' a feller, you are talkin' on a
+solemn subject,&mdash;buyin and sellin' attachments! Buyin' and sellin'
+fellers! It hain't nothin' new to me. I've hearn tell of such things, but
+little did I suppose it was a subject I should ever be tackled on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I have hearn of it. I have hearn of wimmen sellin' themselves to the
+highest bidder, with a minister for auctioneer and salesman. I have hearn
+of fathers and mothers sellin' beauty and innocence and youth to wicked
+old age for money&mdash;sellin' 'em right in the meetin'-house, under the
+very shadow of the steeple.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0100" id="linkimage-0100"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/376.jpg" alt="Them That Sell Doves" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jerusalem hain't the only village where God's holy temple has been
+polluted by money-changers and them that sell doves. Many a sweet little
+dove of a girl is made by her father and mother, and other old
+money-changers, to walk up to God's holy altar, and swear to a lie. They
+think her tellin' that lie, makes the infamous bargain more sacred, makes
+the infamous life they have drove her into more respectable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was One who cleansed from such accursed traffic the old Jewish
+temples, but He walks no more with humanity. If he did, would he not walk
+up the broad aisles of our orthodox churches in American cities, and
+release these doves, and overthrow the plots of these money-changers?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But let me tell 'em, that though they can't see Him, He is there; and the
+lash of His righteous wrath will surely descend, not upon their bodies,
+but upon their guilty souls, teachin' them how much more terrible it is to
+sell a life, with all its rich dowery of freedom, happiness, purity,
+immortality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Here my breath gin out, for I had used my very deepest principle tone; and
+it uses up a fearful ammount of wind, and is tuckerin' beyend what any one
+could imagine of tucker. You <i>have</i> to stop to collect breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he looked at me with that same stiddy, patient, modest look of hisen;
+and says he, in that low, determined voice,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What you say, madam, is very true, and even beautiful and eloquent: but
+time is valuable to me; and as I said, I stopped here this morning to see
+if I could sell&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know you did: I heard you with my own ears. If it had come through two
+or three, or even one, pair of ears besides my own, I couldn't have
+believed 'em&mdash;I never could have believed that any human creeter,
+male or female, would have dared to stand up before me, and try to sell me
+a feller! <i>Sell</i> a feller to me! Why, even in my young days, do you
+s'pose I would ever try to <i>buy</i> a feller?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir! fellers must come free and spontaneous? or not at all. Never was
+I the woman to advance one step towards any feller in the way of courtship&mdash;havin'
+no occasion for it, bein' one that had more offers than I knew what to do
+with, as I often tell my husband, Josiah Allen, now, in our little
+differences of opinion. 'Time and agin,' as I tell him, 'I might have
+married, but held back.' And never would I have married, never, had not
+love gripped holt of my very soul, and drawed me along up to the marriage
+alter. I loved the feller I married, and he was the only feller in the
+hull world for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he in that low, gentle tone, and lookin' modest and patient as a
+lily, but as determined and sot as ever a iron teakettle was sot over a
+stove,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are under a mistake, mom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I, &ldquo;Don't you tell me that agin if you know what is good for
+yourself. I guess I know my own mind. I was past the age of whifflin', and
+foolin' round. I married that feller from pure love, and no other reason
+under the heavens. For there wuzn't any other reason only jest that, why I
+<i>should</i> marry him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And for a moment, or two moments, my mind roamed back onto that old,
+mysterious question that has haunted me more or less through my natural
+life, for over twenty years. <i>Why</i> did I marry Josiah Allen? But I
+didn't revery on it long. I was too agitated, and wrought up; and I says
+agin, in tones witherin' enough to wither him,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The idee of sellin' me a feller!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But the chap didn't look withered a mite: he stood there firm and
+immovible, and says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't mean no offense, mom. Sellin' attachments is what I get my
+living by&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, I should ruther not get a livin',&rdquo; says I, interruptin' of him. &ldquo;I
+should ruther not live.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I said, mom, I get my livin' that way: and one of your neighbors told
+me that your feller was an old one, and sort o' givin' out; and I have got
+'em with all the latest improvements, and&mdash;and she thought mebby I
+could sell you one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You miserable coot you!&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Do you stop your impudent talk, or I
+will holler to Josiah. What do you s'pose I want with another feller? Do
+you s'pose I'd swap Josiah Allen for all the fellers that ever swarmed on
+the globe? What do you s'pose I care for the latest improvements? If a
+feller was made of pure gold from head to feet, with diamond eyes and a
+garnet nose, do you s'pose he would look so good to me as Josiah Allen
+duz?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I would thank the neighbers to mind their own business, and let my
+affairs alone. What if he is a gettin' old and wore out? What if he is a
+givin' out? He is always kinder spindlin' in the spring of the year. Some
+men winter harder than others: he is a little tizicky, and breathes short,
+and his liver may not be the liver it was once; but he will come round all
+right when the weather moderates. And mebby they meant to hint and
+insinuate sunthin' about his bein' so bald, and losin' his teeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I'll let you know, and I'll let the neighbors know, that I didn't
+marry that man for hair; I didn't marry that man for teeth, and a few
+locks more or less, or a handful of teeth, has no power over that love,&mdash;that
+love that makes me say from the very depths of my soul, that my feller is
+one of a thousand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hain't disputed you, mom,&rdquo; says he, with his firm, patient look. &ldquo;I
+dare presume to say that your feller was good in the day of such fellers.
+But every thing has its day: we make fellers far different now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says I sarcasticly, givin' him quite a piercin' look, &ldquo;I know they do:
+I've seen 'em.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, they make attachments now very different: yours is old-fashioned.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I know it is: I know that love, such love as hisen and mine, and I
+know that truth and fidelity and constancy, <i>are</i> old-fashioned. But
+I thank God that our souls are clothed with that beautiful old fashion,
+that seamless, flawless robe that wus cut out in Eden, and a few true
+souls have wore ever since.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But your attachment will grow older and older, and give out entirely
+after a while. What will you do then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My attachment will <i>never</i> give out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But mom&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, you needn't argue and contend&mdash;I say it will <i>never</i> give
+out. It is a heavenly gift dropped down from above, entirely unbeknown.
+True love is not sought after, it comes; and when it comes, it stays. Talk
+about love gettin' old&mdash;love <i>never</i> grows old; talk about love
+goin'&mdash;love <i>never</i> goes: that which goes is not love, though it
+has been called so time and agin. Talk about love dyin'&mdash;why, it <i>can't</i>
+die, no more than the souls can, in which its sweet light is born. Why, it
+is a flame that God Himself kindles: it is a bit of His own brightness a
+shinin' down through the darkness of our earthly life, and is as immortal
+and indestructible as His own glory.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the only fountain of Eternal Youth that gushes up through this
+dreary earthly soil, for the refreshin' of men and wimmen, in which the
+weary soul can bathe itself, and find rest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sometimes,&rdquo; says he, sort o' dreamily, &ldquo;sometimes we repair old fellers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wall, you won't repair my feller, I can let you know that. I won't have
+him repaired. The impudence of the hull idee,&rdquo; says I, roustin' up afresh,
+&ldquo;goes ahead of any thing I ever dreamed of, of impudence. Repair my
+feller! I don't want him any different. I want him jest as he is. I would
+scorn to repair him. I <i>could</i> if I wanted to,&mdash;his teeth could
+be sharpened up, what he has got, and new ones sot in. And I could cover
+his head over with red curls; or I could paint it black, and paste
+transfer flowers onto it. I could have a sot flower sot right on the top
+of his bald head, and a trailin' vine runnin' round his forward. Or I
+could trim it round with tattin', if I wanted to, and crystal beads. I
+could repair him up so he would look gay. But do you s'pose that any
+artificials that was ever made, or any hair, if it was as luxuriant as
+Ayer'ses Vigor, could look so good to me as that old bald head that I have
+seen a shinin' acrost the table from me for so many years?
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0101" id="linkimage-0101"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/381.jpg" alt="Josiah After Being Repaired" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, there is memories and joys and sorrows a clusterin' round
+that head, that I wouldn't swap for all the beauty and the treasures of
+the world.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of happy mornin's dewy fresh, with cool summer breezes a comin'
+in through the apple-blows by the open door, and the light of the happy
+sunrise a shinin' on that old bald head, and then gleamin' off into my
+happy heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is memories of pleasant evenin' hours, with the tea-table drawed up
+in front of the south door, and the sweet southern wind a comin' in over
+the roses, and the tender light of the sunset, and the waverin' shadows of
+the honeysuckles and mornin'-glorys, fallin' on us, wrappin' us all round,
+and wrappin' all of the rest of the world out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mebby the young chap said sunthin' here, but it was entirely unbeknown to
+me; though I thought I heard the murmur of his voice makin' a sort of a
+tinklin' accompinment to my thoughts, sunthin' like the babble of a brook
+a runnin' along under forest boughs, when the wind with its mighty melody
+is sweepin' through 'em. Great emotions was sweepin' along with power, and
+couldn't be stayed. And I went right on, not sensin' a thing round me,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is memories of sabbath drives, in fair June mornin's, through the
+old lane alder and willow fringed, with the brook runnin' along on one
+side of it; where the speckled trout broke the Sunday quiet by dancin' up
+through the brown and gold shadows of the cool water, and the odor of the
+pine woods jest beyend comin' fresh and sweet to us.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0102" id="linkimage-0102"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/383.jpg" alt="'goin' to the Revival Meeting.'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of how that road and that face looked in the week-day dusk, as
+we sot out for the revival meetin', when the sun had let down his long
+bars of gold and crimson and yellow, and had got over 'em, and sunk down
+behind 'em out of sight. And we could ketch glimpses through the
+willow-sprays of them shinin' bars a layin' down on the gray twilight
+field. And fur away over the green hills and woods of the east, the moon
+was a risin', big and calm and silvery. And we could hear the plaintive
+evenin' song of the thrush, and the crickets' happy chirp, till we got
+nearer the schoolhouse, when they sort o' blended in with 'There is a
+fountain filled with blood,' and 'Come, ye disconsolate.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles, shone
+down and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as he helped
+me out of the wagon.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of peace
+and happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every time
+about the eternal hills, and the shadow of the Rock, and the Everlastin'
+Arms that was a holdin' us both up, me and Josiah, and the Everlastin'
+Love that was wrappin' us round, helpin' us onward by these very joys,
+these very sorrows.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of the midnight lamp lightin' it up in the chamber of the sick,
+in the long, lonesome hours before day-dawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of its bendin' over the sick ones in happier mornin's, as he
+carried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places at
+the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under the
+rainbow when the storm had passed. It stands out from a background of
+winter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightness
+of them seasons a hangin' over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier and
+more blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a little
+coffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by me
+under the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for the
+future.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart, like
+a beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do you
+s'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to me as
+that duz? Do you s'pose I will ever have it repaired upon? never! I <i>won't</i>
+repair him. I won't have him dickered and fooled with. Not at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth if
+he hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long as
+Josiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and keep it
+down here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as he is
+too.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!&rdquo; says I, kinder
+comin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen, and
+gossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations. And as
+I lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on one foot, with
+his watch, a big silver one, in his hand, and gazin' pensively onto it;
+and he says,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your remarks are worthy, mom&mdash;but somewhat lengthy,&rdquo; says he, in a
+voice of pain; &ldquo;nearly nine moments long: but,&rdquo; says he, sort o' bracin'
+up agin on both feet, &ldquo;I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come
+into this neighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated that
+I got the idee, from what they said, that your feller didn't work good.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Didn't work good! You impudent creeter you! What of it? What if he don't
+work at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the neighbors? I
+guess he is able to lay by for a few days if he wants to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are laborin' under a mistake, mom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I hain't laborin' under no mistake! And don't you tell me agin that I
+be. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest; and
+whose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get to
+goin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low as to
+watch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute they set
+down; when I can't find nothin' nobler to do,&mdash;I'll spend my time
+talkin' about hens' teeth, and lettis seed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Says he, lookin' as amiable and patient as a factory-cloth rag-babe, but
+as determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I could
+fix over your feller if you wanted me to&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on this
+seethin' tumult of anger fell this one calmin' word,&mdash;<i>Meeting-house!</i>
+I felt I must be calm,&mdash;calm and impressive; so says I,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You need not repeat your infamous proposal. I say to you agin, that the
+form where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may be
+more beautiful, and even taller, but they don't have the same look to 'em.
+It is one of the strangest things,&rdquo; says I, fallin' agin' a little ways
+down into a revery,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion large
+and boundless enough to fill eternity and old space itself, should all be
+gathered up and centered into so small a temple, and such a lookin' one,
+too, sometimes,&rdquo; says I pensively, as I thought it over, how sort o'
+meachin' and bashful lookin' Josiah Allen wuz, when I married to him. And
+how small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it can
+be, but so it is.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Why</i> Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lot
+entertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell you
+plain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should ask me
+where Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go, it
+stays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free gifts
+from above, free as the sun, or the showers&mdash;that fall down in a
+drouth&mdash;and perfectly unbeknown, like them. Such a love is
+oncalculatin', givin' all, unquestionin', unfearin', no dickering no
+holdin' back lookin' for better chances.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mom,&rdquo; says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one foot
+some like a patient old gander in the fall of the year.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your very
+sociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is really
+consistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I first come
+in, I merely called to see if I could sell you&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heard
+from mortal lips, be he male, or be he female. The idee of <i>me</i>,
+Josiah Allen's wife, who has locked arms with principle, and has kep'
+stiddy company with it, for years and years&mdash;the idee of <i>me</i>
+buyin' a feller! I dare persume to say&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+Says I more mildly, as he took up his hat and little box he had, and
+started for the door,&mdash;and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so
+soon, I felt softer towards him, as folks will towards burdens when they
+are bein' lifted from 'em,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I dare persume to say, you thought I was a single woman, havin' been told
+time and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair complected. I
+won't think,&rdquo; says I, feelin' still softer towards him as I see him a
+openin' the door,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made your
+infamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' human
+bein', married or single.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable of
+a meek voice,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest firm
+in North America.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if he
+belongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle&mdash;that is what I
+am a workin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin' a
+feller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that had
+the riches of Creshus; it wouldn't make a mite of difference to me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As the poet Mr. Burns says,&mdash;I have heard Thomas J. repeat it time
+and agin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right,
+but the meanin' is,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller is
+a feller for all that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind and
+eloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing&mdash;if he didn't turn
+round at the foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient,
+determined attitude of hisen, say, says he,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0103" id="linkimage-0103"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/389.jpg" alt="'can't I Sell You a Feller?'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are mistaken, mom. I merely stopped this mornin' to see if I could
+sell you&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the west
+chamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't know how
+long he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come down to get
+dinner, and that was all I cared for.
+</p>
+<p>
+I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you, my
+eyes fairly snapped, I was that mad and rousted up about it: but he said,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He believed it was a sewin'-machine man, and wanted to sell me a feller
+for my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent in
+Jonesville that was a sendin' out agents with all sorts of attachments,
+some with hemmers, and some with fellers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But I didn't believe a word of it: I believe he was <i>mean</i>. A mean,
+low-lived, insultin' creeter.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIV.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Wall, Cicely died in June; and how the days will pass by, whether we are
+joyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September had
+stepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and curchied
+to us (allegory).
+</p>
+<p>
+Ah, yes! time passes by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the days
+pass slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the time, though goin' fast, had passed by very quietly and peacefully
+to Josiah Allen and me.
+</p>
+<p>
+Every thing on the farm wus prosperous. The children was well and happy;
+the babe beautiful, and growin' more lovely every day.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ury had took his money, and bought a good little house and 4 acres of land
+in our neighborhood, and had took our farm for the next and ensuin' year.
+And they was happy and contented. And had expectations. They had (under my
+direction) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely pilgrimage
+had seemed to pass from Philury's mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better and
+better, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over 50
+questions on one subject, or from 50 to 60; and so we got along
+first-rate.
+</p>
+<p>
+And we loved him. Why, there hain't no tellin' how we did love him. And he
+would talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that he
+would see her bime by, and that she loved him now jest as much as ever,
+and that she <i>wanted him</i> to be a <i>good boy</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he wuz a beautiful boy, if his chin wuz sort o' weak. He would try to
+tell the truth, and do as I would tell him to&mdash;and would, a good deal
+of the time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and repeat
+lots of Scripture passages, and would ask more'n 100 questions about 'em,
+if I would let him.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was one verse I made him repeat every night after he said his
+prayers: &ldquo;Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I always would say to him, earnest and deep, that his ma was pure in
+heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he'd say, &ldquo;Does she see God now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I'd say, &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he would say, &ldquo;When shall I see Him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I'd say, &ldquo;When you are good enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he'd say, &ldquo;If I was good enough, could I see Him now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And I would say, &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he would tell me that he would try to be good; and I would say,
+&ldquo;Wall, so do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And late one afternoon, a bright, sunny afternoon, he got tired of
+playin'. He had been a horse, and little Let Peedick had been a drivin'
+him. I had heard 'em a whinnerin' out in the yard, and a prancin', and a
+hitchin' each other to the post.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he had got tired about sundown, and come in, and leaned up against my
+lap, and asked me about 88 questions about his ma and the City. He had
+never forgot what his uncle Josiah had read about it, and he couldn't seem
+to talk enough about it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0104" id="linkimage-0104"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/393.jpg" alt="The Boy and Let Peedick Playing Horse" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And says he, with a dreamy look way off into the glowin' western sky, &ldquo;My
+mamma Cicely said it would swing right down out of heaven some day, and
+would open, and I could walk in; and don't you believe mamma will stand
+just inside of the gate as she used to, and say, 'Here comes my own little
+boy'?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And he wus jest a askin' me this,&mdash;and it beats all, how many times
+he had tackled me on this very subject,&mdash;when Whitfield drove up in a
+great hurry. Little Samantha Joe had been taken sick, very sick, and
+extremely sudden.
+</p>
+<p>
+Scarlet-fever was round, and she and the boy had both been exposed. I was
+all excitement and agitation; and I hurried off without changin' my dress,
+or any thing. But I told Josiah to put the boy to bed about nine.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, there was a uncommon sunset that night. The west was all aflame with
+light. And as we rode on towards Jonesville right towards it,&mdash;though
+very anxious about the babe,&mdash;I drawed Whitfield's attention to it.
+</p>
+<p>
+The hull of the west did look, for all the world, like a great, shinin'
+white gate, open, and inside all full of radience, rose, and yellow, and
+gold light, a streamin' out, and changin', and glowin', movin' about, as
+clouds will.
+</p>
+<p>
+It seemed sometimes, as if you could almost see a white, shadowy figure,
+inside the gate, a lookin' out, and watchin' with her arms reached out;
+and then it would all melt into the light again, as clouds will.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus the beautifulest sunset I had seen, that year, by far. And we
+s'pose, from what we could learn afterwards, that the boy, too, was
+attracted by that wonderful glory in the west, and strolled out to the
+orchard to look at it. It wus a favorite place with him, anyway. And there
+wus a certain tree that he loved to lay under. A sick-no-further apple. It
+wus the very tree I found him under that day in the spring, a lookin' up
+into the sky, a watchin' for the City to come down from heaven. You could
+see a good ways from there off into the west, and out over the lake. And
+the sunset must have looked beautiful from there, anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, my poor companion Josiah wus all rousted up in his mind about the
+babe, and he never thought of the boy till it was half-past nine; and then
+he hurried off to find him, skairt, but s'posen he was up on his bed with
+his clothes on, or asleep on the lounges, or carpets, or somewhere.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0105" id="linkimage-0105"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/395.jpg" alt="Paul Looking at the Sunset" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+But he couldn't find him: he hunted all over the house, and out in the
+barn, and the door-yard, and the street; and then he rousted up Mr.
+Gowdey's folks, our nearest neighbors, to see if they could help find him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Wall, Miss Gowdey, when she wus a bringin' in her clothes,&mdash;it was
+Monday night,&mdash;she had seen him out in the orchard under the
+sick-no-further tree.
+</p>
+<p>
+And there they found him, fast asleep&mdash;where they s'pose he had fell
+asleep unexpected to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+It wus then almost eleven o'clock, and he was wet with dew: the dew was
+heavy that night. And when they rousted him up, he was so hoarse he
+couldn't speak. And before mornin' he was in a high fever. They sent for
+me and the doctor at daybreak. Little Samantha Joe wus better: it only
+proved to be a hard cold that ailed her.
+</p>
+<p>
+But the boy had the scarlet-fever, so the doctor said. And he grew worse
+fast. He didn't know me at all when I got home, but wus a talkin' fast
+about his mamma Cicely; and he asked me &ldquo;If the gate had swung down, for
+him to go through into the City, and if his mamma was inside, reachin' out
+her arms to him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And then he would get things all mixed up, and talk about things he had
+heard of, and things he hadn't heard of. And then he would talk about how
+bright it was inside the gate, and how he see it from the orchard. And so
+we knew he had been attracted out by the bright light in the west.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then he would talk about the strangest things. His little tongue
+couldn't be still a minute; but it never could, for that matter.
+</p>
+<p>
+Till along about the middle of the afternoon he become quiet, and grew so
+white and still that I knew before the doctor told me, that we couldn't
+keep the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And I thought, and couldn't help it, of what Cicely had worried so about;
+and though my heart sunk down and down, to think of givin' the boy up,&mdash;for
+I loved him,&mdash;yet I couldn't help thinkin' that with his temperament,
+and as the laws was now, the grave was about the only place of safety that
+the Lord Himself could find for the boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+And it wus about sundown that he died. I had been down-stairs for
+somethin' for him; and as I went back into the room, I see his eyes was
+wide open, and looked natural.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0106" id="linkimage-0106"> </a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/297.jpg" alt="'Say!'" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+And as I bent over him, he looked up at me, and said in a faint voice, but
+rational,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say&rdquo;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+And I couldn't help a smilin' right there, with the tears a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water. He wanted to ask some question.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he couldn't say no more. His little, eager, questionin' soul was too
+fur gone towards that land where the hard questions we can't answer here,
+will be made plain to us.
+</p>
+<p>
+But he looked up into my face with that sort of a questionin' look, and
+then up over my head, and beyend it&mdash;and beyend&mdash;and I see there
+settled down over his face the sort of a satisfied look that he would have
+when I had answered his questions; and I sort o' smiled, and said to
+myself, I guessed the Lord had answered it.
+</p>
+<p>
+And so he went through the gate of the City, and was safe. And that is the
+way God took care of the boy.
+</p>
+<div style="height: 6em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/inside_covers.jpg" alt="inside_covers" width="100%" /><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sweet Cicely, by
+Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
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+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's Sweet Cicely, by Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Sweet Cicely
+       Or Josiah Allen as a Politician
+
+Author: Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
+
+
+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7251]
+This file was first posted on March 31, 2003
+Last Updated: July 5, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWEET CICELY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Richard Prairie, Tiffany Vergon, Charles
+Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+OR JOSIAH ALLEN AS A POLITICIAN
+
+By "Josiah Allen's Wife": Marietta Holley
+
+_With Illustrations_
+
+Eighth Edition
+
+
+[Illustration: SWEET CICELY.]
+
+
+
+TO
+
+THE SAD-EYED MOTHERS,
+
+WHO, LIKE CICELY,
+
+ARE LOOKING ACROSS THE CRADLE OF THEIR
+
+BOYS INTO THE GREAT WORLD OF
+
+TEMPTATION AND DANGER,
+
+This Book is Dedicated.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+Josiah and me got to talkin' it over. He said it wuzn't right to think
+more of one child than you did of another.
+
+And I says, "That is so, Josiah."
+
+And he says, "Then, why did you say yesterday, that you loved sweet
+Cicely better than any of the rest of your thought-children? You said
+you loved 'em all, and was kinder sorry for the hull on 'em, but you
+loved her the best: what made you say it?"
+
+Says I, "I said it, to tell the truth."
+
+"Wall, what did you do it _for_?" he kep' on, determined to get a
+reason.
+
+"I did it," says I, a comin' out still plainer,--"I did it to keep from
+lyin'."
+
+"Wall, when you say it hain't right to feel so, what makes you?"
+
+"I don't know, Josiah," says I, lookin' at him, and beyend him, way into
+the depths of emotions and feelin's we can't understand nor help,--
+
+"I don't know why, but I know I do."
+
+And he drawed on his boots, and went out to the barn.
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+It was somewhere about the middle of winter, along in the forenoon, that
+Josiah Allen was telegrafted to, unexpected. His niece Cicely and her
+little boy was goin' to pass through Jonesville the next day on her way
+to visit her aunt Mary (aunt on her mother's side), and she would stop
+off, and make us a short visit if convenient.
+
+We wuz both tickled, highly tickled; and Josiah, before he had read the
+telegraf ten minutes, was out killin' a hen. The plumpest one in the
+flock was the order I give; and I wus a beginnin' to make a fuss, and
+cook up for her.
+
+We loved her jest about as well as we did Tirzah Ann. Sweet Cicely was
+what we used to call her when she was a girl. Sweet Cicely is a plant
+that has a pretty white posy. And our niece Cicely was prettier and
+purer and sweeter than any posy that ever grew: so we thought then, and
+so we think still.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH TELLING THE NEWS TO SAMANTHA.]
+
+Her mother was my companion's sister,--one of a pair of twins, Mary and
+Maria, that thought the world of each other, as twins will. Their mother
+died when they wus both of 'em babies; and they wus adopted by a rich
+aunt, who brought 'em up elegant, and likely too: that I will say for
+her, if she wus a 'Piscopal, and I a Methodist. I am both liberal and
+truthful--very.
+
+Maria wus Cicely's ma, and she wus left a widow when she wus a young
+woman; and Cicely wus her only child. And the two wus bound up in each
+other as I never see a mother and daughter in my life before or sense.
+
+The third year after Josiah and me wus married, Maria wusn't well, and
+the doctor ordered her out into the country for her health; and she and
+little Cicely spent the hull of that summer with us. Cicely wus about
+ten; and how we did love that girl! Her mother couldn't bear to have her
+out of her sight; and I declare, we all of us wus jest about as bad.
+And from that time they used to spend most all of their summers in
+Jonesville. The air agreed with 'em, and so did I: we never had a word
+of trouble. And we used to visit them quite a good deal in the winter
+season: they lived in the city.
+
+Wall, as Cicely got to be a young girl, I used often to set and look at
+her, and wonder if the Lord could have made a prettier, sweeter girl
+if he had tried to. She looked to me jest perfect, and so she did to
+Josiah.
+
+And she knew so much, too, and wus so womanly and quiet and deep. I
+s'pose it wus bein' always with her mother that made her seem older and
+more thoughtful than girls usially are. It seemed as if her great dark
+eyes wus full of wisdom beyend--fur beyend--her years, and sweetness
+too. Never wus there any sweeter eyes under the heavens than those of
+our niece Cicely.
+
+She wus very fair and pale, you would think at first; but, when you
+would come to look closer, you would see there was nothing sickly in
+her complexion, only it was very white and smooth,--a good deal like
+the pure white leaves of the posy Sweet Cicely. She had a gentle, tender
+mouth, rose-pink; and her cheeks wuz, when she would get rousted up and
+excited about any thing; and then it would all sort o' die out again
+into that pure white. And over all her face, as sweet and womanly as it
+was, there was a look of power, somehow, a look of strength, as if she
+would venture much, dare much, for them she loved. She had the gift, not
+always a happy one, of loving,--a strength of devotion that always has
+for its companion-trait a gift of endurance, of martyrdom if necessary.
+
+She would give all, dare all, endure all, for them she loved. You could
+see that in her face before you had been with her long enough to see it
+in her life.
+
+Her hair wus a soft, pretty brown, about the color of her eyes. And
+she wus a little body, slender, and sort o' plump too; and her arms and
+hands and neck wus soft and white as snow almost.
+
+Yes, we loved Cicely: and no one could blame us, or wonder at us for
+callin' her after the posy Sweet Cicely; for she wus prettier than any
+posy that ever blew, enough sight.
+
+Wall, she had always said she couldn't live if her mother died.
+
+But she did, poor little creeter! she did.
+
+Maria died when Cicely wus about eighteen. She had always been delicate,
+and couldn't live no longer: so she died. And Josiah and me went right
+after the poor child, and brought her home with us.
+
+[Illustration: CICELY.]
+
+She lived, Cicely did, because she wus young, and couldn't die. And
+Josiah and me wus dretful good to her; and many's the nights that I
+have gone into her room when I'd hear her cryin' way along in the night;
+many's the times I have gone in, and took her in my arms, and held her
+there, and cried with her, and soothed her, and got her to sleep, and
+held her in my arms like a baby till mornin'. Wall, she lived with us
+most a year that time; and it wus about two years after, while she wus
+to some of her father's folks'es (they wus very rich), that she met the
+young man she married,--Paul Slide.
+
+He wus a handsome young man, well-behaved, only he would drink a little
+once in a while: he'd got into the habit at college, where his mate wus
+wild, and had his turns. But he wus very pretty in his manners, Paul
+was,--polite, good-natured, generous-dispositioned,--and very rich.
+
+And as to his looks, there wuzn't no earthly fault to find with him,
+only jest his chin. And I told Josiah, that how Cicely could marry a man
+with such a chin wus a mystery to me.
+
+And Josiah said, "What is the matter with his chin?"
+
+And I says, "Why, it jest sets right back from his mouth: he hain't got
+no chin at all hardly," says I. "The place where his chin ort to be is
+nothin' but a holler place all filled up with irresolution and weakness.
+And I believe Cicely will see trouble with that chin."
+
+And then--I well remember it, for it was the very first time
+after marriage, and so, of course, the very first time in our two
+lives--Josiah called me a fool, a "dumb fool," or jest the same as
+called me so. He says, "I wouldn't be a dumb fool if I was in your
+place."
+
+I felt worked up. But, like warriors on a battle-field, I grew stronger
+for the fray; and the fray didn't scare me none.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SLIDE.]
+
+But I says, "You'll see if you live, Josiah Allen"; and he did.
+
+But, as I said, I didn't see how Cicely ever fell in love with a man
+with such a chin. But, as I learned afterwards, she fell in love with
+him under a fur collar. It wus on a slay-ride. And he wuz very handsome
+from his mouth up, very: his mouth wuz ruther weak. It wus a case of
+love at first sight, which I believe in considerable; and she couldn't
+help lovin' him, women are so queer.
+
+I had always said that when Cicely did love, it would go hard with her.
+Many's the offers she'd had, but didn't care for 'em. But I knew, with
+her temperament and nater, that love, if it did come to her, would come
+to stay, and it would come hard and voyalent. And so it did.
+
+She worshipped him, as I said at first, under a fur collar. And then,
+when a woman once gets to lovin' a man as she did, why, she can't help
+herself, chin or no chin. When a woman has once throwed herself in front
+of her idol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of
+gold, or holler: it hain't so much matter _what_ they be, I think.
+Curius, hain't it?
+
+It hain't the easiest thing in the world for such a woman as Cicely to
+love, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she found
+out afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his
+head with liquor; and it wus my advice to her, to give him up.
+
+And she tried to unlove him, tried to give him up.
+
+But, good land! she might jest as well have took a piece of her own
+heart out, as to take out of it her love for him: it had become a part
+of her. And he told her she could save him, her influence could redeem
+him, and it wus the only thing that could save him.
+
+And Cicely couldn't stand such talk, of course; and she believed
+him--believed that she could love him so well, throw her influence so
+around him, as to hold him back from any evil course.
+
+It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of
+folly a woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of
+the idee, to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in
+its utter uselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done--not in 98
+cases out of a 100 at least.
+
+Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to
+win her affection,--when he is on probation, as you may say,--to stop
+and turn round in his downward course, how can she expect he will after
+he has got her, and has let down his watch, so to speak?
+
+But she loved him. And when I warned her with tears in my eyes, warned
+her that mebby it wus more than her own safety and happiness that wus
+imperilled, I could see by the look in her eyes, though she didn't
+say much, that it wusn't no use for me to talk; for she wus one of
+the constant natures that can't wobble round. And though I don't like
+wobblin', still I do honestly believe that the wobblers are happier than
+them that can't wobble.
+
+I could see jest how it wuz, and I couldn't bear to have her blamed. And
+I would tell folks,--some of the relations on her mother's side,--when
+they would say, "What a fool she wus to have him!"--I'd say to 'em,
+"Wall, when a woman sees the man she loves goin' down to ruination,
+and tries to unlove him, she'll find out jest how much harder it is to
+unlove him than to love him in the first place: they'll find out it is a
+tough job to tackle."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND THE "BLAMERS."]
+
+I said this to blamers of Cicely (relatives, the best blamers you can
+find anywhere). But, at the same time, it would have been my way, when
+he had come a courtin' me so far gone with liquor that he could hardly
+stand up--why, I should have told him plain, that I wouldn't try to set
+myself up as a rival to alcohol, and he might pay to that his attentions
+exclusively hereafter.
+
+But she didn't. And he promised sacred to abstain, and could, and did,
+for most a year; and she married him.
+
+But, jest before the marriage, I got so rousted up a thinkin' about what
+I had heard of him at college,--and I studied on his picture, which she
+had sent me, took sideways too, and I could see plain (why, he hadn't no
+chin at all, as you may say; and his lips was weak and waverin' as
+ever lips was, though sort o' amiable and fascinating),--and I got to
+forebodin' so about that chin, and my love for her wus a hunchin' me up
+so all the time, that I went to see her on a short tower, to beset her
+on the subject. But, good land! I might have saved my breath, I might
+have saved my tower.
+
+I cried, and she cried too. And I says to her before I thought,--
+
+"He'll be the ruin of you, Cicely."
+
+And she says, "I would rather be beaten by his hand, than to be crowned
+by another. Why, I love him, aunt Samantha."
+
+You see, that meant a awful sight to her. And as she looked at me so
+earnest and solemn, with tears in them pretty brown eyes, there wus in
+her look all that that word could possibly mean to any soul.
+
+But I cried into my white linen handkerchief, and couldn't help it, and
+couldn't help sayin', as I see that look,--
+
+"Cicely, I am afraid he will break your heart--kill you"--
+
+"Why, I am not afraid to die when I am with him. I am afraid of
+nothing--of life, or death, or eternity."
+
+Well, I see my talk was no use. I see she'd have him, chin or no chin.
+If I could have taken her up in my arms, and run away with her then and
+there, how much misery I could have saved her from! But I couldn't: I
+had the rheumatiz. And I had to give up, and go home disappointed, but
+carryin' this thought home with me on my tower,--that I had done my duty
+by our sweet Cicely, and could do no more.
+
+As I said, he promised firm to give up drinking. But, good land! what
+could you expect from that chin? That chin couldn't stand temptation if
+it came in his way. At the same time, his love for Cicely was such, and
+his good heart and his natural gentlemanly intuitions was such, that, if
+he could have been kep' out of the way of temptation, he would have been
+all right.
+
+If there hadn't been drinking-saloons right in front of that chin, if
+it could have walked along the road without runnin' right into 'em,
+it would have got along. That chin, and them waverin'-lookin', amiable
+lips, wouldn't have stirred a step out of their ways to get ruined and
+disgraced: they wouldn't have took the trouble to.
+
+And for a year or so he and the chin kep' out of the way of
+temptation, or ruther temptation kep' out of their way; and Cicely was
+happy,--radiently happy, as only such a nature as hern can be. Her face
+looked like a mornin' in June, it wus so bright, and glowing with joy
+and happy love.
+
+I visited her, stayed 3 days and 2 nights with her; and I almost forgot
+to forebode about the lower part of his face, I found 'em so happy and
+prosperous and likely.
+
+Paul wus very rich. He wus the only child: and his pa left 2 thirds of
+his property to him, and the other third to his ma, which wus more than
+she could ever use while she wus alive; and at her death it wus to go to
+Paul and his heirs.
+
+They owned most all of the village they lived in. His pa had owned the
+township the village was built on, and had built most all the village
+himself, and rented the buildings. He owned a big manufactory there, and
+the buildings rented high.
+
+Wall, it wus in the second year of their marriage that that old college
+chumb--(and I wish he had been chumbed by a pole, before he had ever
+gone there). He had lost his property, and come down in the world,
+and had to work for a livin'; moved into that village, and opened a
+drinking-saloon and billiard-room.
+
+He had been Paul's most intimate friend at college, and his evil
+genius, so his mother said. But he was bright, witty, generous in a way,
+unprincipled, dissipated. And he wanted Paul's company, and he wanted
+Paul's money; and he had a chin himself, and knew how to manage them
+that hadn't any.
+
+Wall, Cicely and his mother tried to keep Paul from that bad influence.
+But he said it would look shabby to not take any notice of a man because
+he wus down in the world. He wouldn't have much to do with him, but it
+wouldn't do to not notice him at all. How curius, that out of good comes
+bad, and out of bad, good. That was a good-natured idee of Paul's if he
+had had a chin that could have held up his principle; but he didn't.
+
+So he gradually fell under the old influence again. He didn't mean to.
+He hadn't no idee of doin' so when he begun. It was the chin.
+
+He begun to drink hard, spent his nights in the saloon,
+gambled,--slipped right down the old, smooth track worn by millions of
+jest such weak feet, towards ruin. And Cicely couldn't hold him back
+after he had got to slippin': her arms wuzn't strong enough.
+
+She went to the saloon-keeper, and cried, and begged of him not to sell
+her husband any more liquor. He was very polite to her, very courteous:
+everybody was to Cicely. But in a polite way he told her that Paul wus
+his best customer, and he shouldn't offend him by refusing to sell him
+liquor. She knelt at his feet, I hearn,--her little, tender limbs on
+that rough floor before that evil man,--and wept, and said,--
+
+"For the sake of her boy, wouldn't he have mercy on the boy's father."
+
+But in a gentle way he gave her to understand that he shouldn't make no
+change.
+
+And he told her, speakin' in a dretful courteous way, "that he had the
+law on his side: he had a license, and he should keep right on as he was
+doing."
+
+[Illustration: CICELY IN THE SALOON.]
+
+And so what could Cicely do? And time went on, carryin' Paul further and
+further down the road that has but one ending. Lower and lower he sunk,
+carryin' her heart, her happiness, her life, down with him.
+
+And they said one cold night Paul didn't come home at all, and Cicely
+and his mother wus half crazy; and they wus too proud, to the last, to
+tell the servants more than they could help: so, when it got to be most
+mornin', them two delicate women started out through the deep snow, to
+try to find him, tremblin' at every little heap of snow that wus tumbled
+up in the path in front of 'em; tremblin' and sick at heart with the
+agony and dread that wus rackin' their souls, as they would look
+over the cold fields of snow stretching on each side of the road, and
+thinkin' how that face would look if it wus lying there staring with
+lifeless eyes up towards the cold moonlight,--the face they had kissed,
+the face they had loved,--and thinkin', too, that the change that had
+come to it--was comin' to it all the time--was more cruel and hopeless
+than the change of death.
+
+So they went on, clear to the saloon; and there they found him,--there
+he lay, perfectly stupid, and dead with liquor.
+
+And they both, the broken-hearted mother and the broken-hearted
+wife, with the tears running down their white cheeks, besought the
+saloon-keeper to let him alone from that night.
+
+The mother says, "Paul is so good, that if you did not tempt him, entice
+him here, he would, out of pity to us, stop his evil ways."
+
+And the saloon-keeper was jest as polite as any man wus ever seen to
+be,--took his hat off while he told 'em, so I hearn, "that he couldn't
+go against his own interests: if Paul chose to spend his money there, he
+should take it."
+
+"Will you break our hearts?" cried the mother.
+
+"Will you ruin my husband, the father of my boy?" sobbed out Cicely, her
+big, sorrowful eyes lookin' right through his soul--if he _had_ a soul.
+
+And then the man, in a pleasant tone, reminded 'em,--
+
+"That it wuzn't him that wus a doin' this. It wus the law: if they
+wanted things changed, they must look further than him. He had a
+license. The great Government of the United States had sold him, for a
+few dollars, the right to do just what he was doing. The law, and all
+the respectability that the laws of our great and glorious Republic can
+give, bore him out in all his acts. The law was responsible for all
+the consequenses of his acts: the men were responsible who voted for
+license--it was not him."
+
+"But you _can_ do what we ask if you will, out of pity to Paul, pity to
+us who love him so, and who are forced to stand by powerless, and see
+him going to ruin--we who would die for him willingly if it would do any
+good. You _can_ do this."
+
+He was a little bit intoxicated, or he wouldn't have gid 'em the cruel
+sneer he did at the last,--though he sneeren polite,--a holdin' his hat
+in his hand.
+
+"As I said, my dear madam, it is not I, it is the law; and I see no
+other way for you ladies who feel so about it, only to vote, and change
+the laws."
+
+"Would to God I _could!_" said the old white-haired mother, with her
+solemn eyes lifted to the heavens, in which was her only hope.
+
+"Would to God I could!" repeated my sweet Cicely, with her eyes fastened
+on the face of him who had promised to cherish her, and comfort her,
+and protect her, layin' there at her feet, a mark for jeers and sneers,
+unable to speak a word, or lift his hand, if his wife and mother had
+been killed before him.
+
+But they couldn't do any thing. They would have lain their lives down
+for him at any time, but that wouldn't do any good. The lowest, most
+ignorant laborer in their employ had power in this matter, but they had
+none. They had intellectual power enough, which, added to their
+utter helplessness, only made their burden more unendurable; for they
+comprehended to the full the knowledge of what was past, and what must
+come in the future unless help came quickly. They had the strength of
+devotion, the strength of unselfish love.
+
+They had the will, but they hadn't nothin' to tackle it onto him with,
+to draw him back. For their prayers, their midnight watches, their
+tears, did not avail, as I said: they went jest so far; they touched
+him, but they lacked the tacklin'-power that was wanted to grip holt of
+him, and draw him back. What they needed was the justice of the law to
+tackle the injustice; and they hadn't got it, and couldn't get holt of
+it: so they had to set with hands folded, or lifted to the heavens in
+wild appeal,--either way didn't help Paul any,--and see him a sinkin'
+and a sinkin', slippin' further and further down; and they had to let
+him go.
+
+He drunk harder and harder, neglected his business, got quarrelsome. And
+one night, when the heavens was curtained with blackness, like a pall
+let down to cover the accursed scene, he left Cicely with her pretty
+baby asleep on her bosom, went down to the saloon, got into a quarrel
+with that very friend of hisen, the saloon-keeper, over a game of
+billiards,--they was both intoxicated,--and then and there Paul
+committed _murder_, and would have been hung for it if he hadn't died in
+State's prison the night before he got his sentence.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SHOOTING HIS FRIEND.]
+
+Awful deed! Dreadful fate! But no worse, as I told Josiah when he wus a
+groanin' over it; no worse, I told the children when they was a cryin'
+over it; no worse, I told my own heart when the tears wus a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water,--no worse because Cicely happened to be our
+relation, and we loved her as we did our own eyes.
+
+And our broad land is _full_ of jest such sufferin's, jest such crimes,
+jest such disgrace, caused by the same cause;--as I told Josiah,
+suffering, disgrace, and crime made legal and protected by the law.
+
+And Josiah squirmed as I said it; and I see him squirm, for he believed
+in it: he believed in licensing this shame and disgrace and woe; he
+believed in makin' it respectable, and wrappin' round it the mantilly of
+the law, to keep it in a warm, healthy, flourishin' condition. Why, he
+had helped do it himself; he had helped the United States lift up the
+mantilly; he had voted for it.
+
+He squirmed, but turned it off by usin' his bandana hard, and sayin', in
+a voice all choked down with grief,--
+
+"Oh, poor Cicely! poor girl!"
+
+"Yes," says I, "'poor girl!' and the law you uphold has made her; 'poor
+girl'--has killed her; for she won't live through it, and you and the
+United States will see that she won't."
+
+He squirmed hard; and my feelin's for him are such that I can't bear
+to see him squirm voyalently, as much as I blamed him and the United
+States, and as mad as I was at both on 'em.
+
+So I went to cryin' agin silently under my linen handkerchief, and he
+cried into his bandana. It wus a awful blow to both on us.
+
+Wall, she lived, Cicely did, which was more than we any one of us
+thought she could do. I went right there, and stayed six weeks with her,
+hangin' right over her bed, night and day; and so did his mother,--she a
+brokenhearted woman too. Her heart broke, too, by the United States; and
+so I told Josiah, that little villain that got killed was only one of
+his agents. Yes, her heart was broke; but she bore up for Cicely's sake
+and the boy's. For it seemed as if she felt remorsful, and as if it was
+for them that belonged to him who had ruined her life, to help her all
+they could.
+
+Wall, after about three weeks Cicely begun to live. And so I wrote to
+Josiah that I guessed she would keep on a livin' now, for the sake of
+the boy.
+
+And so she did. And she got up from that bed a shadow,--a faint, pale
+shadow of the girl that used to brighten up our home for us. She was our
+sweet Cicely still. But she looked like that posy after the frost has
+withered it, and with the cold moonlight layin' on it.
+
+Good and patient she wuz, and easy to get along with; for she seemed to
+hold earthly things with a dretful loose grip, easy to leggo of 'em. And
+it didn't seem as if she had any interest at all in life, or care for
+any thing that was a goin' on in the world, till the boy wus about four
+years old; and then she begun to get all rousted up about him and
+his future. "She _must_ live," she said: "she had got to live, to do
+something to help him in the future."
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND THE BOY.]
+
+"She couldn't die," she told me, "and leave him in a world that was so
+hard for boys, where temptations and danger stood all round her boy's
+pathway. Not only hidden perils, concealed from sight, so he might
+possibly escape them, but open temptations, open dangers, made as
+alluring as private avarice could make them, and made as respectable as
+dignified legal enactments could make them,--all to draw her boy down
+the pathway his poor father descended." For one of the curius things
+about Cicely wuz, she didn't seem to blame Paul hardly a mite, nor not
+so very much the one that enticed him to drink. She went back further
+than them: she laid the blame onto our laws; she laid the responsibility
+onto the ones that made 'em, directly and indirectly, the legislators
+and the voters.
+
+Curius that Cicely should feel so, when most everybody said that he
+could have stopped drinking if he had wanted to. But then, I don't know
+as I could blame her for feelin' so when I thought of Paul's chin and
+lips. Why, anybody that had them on 'em, and was made up inside and
+outside accordin', as folks be that have them looks; why, unless they
+was specially guarded by good influences, and fenced off from bad
+ones,--why, they _could not_ exert any self-denial and control and
+firmness.
+
+Why, I jest followed that chin and that mouth right back through seven
+generations of the Slide family. Paul's father wus a good man, had a
+good face; took it from his mother: but his father, Paul's grandfather,
+died a drunkard. They have got a oil-portrait of him at Paul's old home:
+I stopped there on my way home from Cicely's one time. And for all the
+world he looked most exactly like Paul,--the same sort of a irresolute,
+handsome, weak, fascinating look to him. And all through them portraits
+I could trace that chin and them lips. They would disappear in some of
+'em, but crop out agin further back. And I asked the housekeeper, who
+had always lived in the family, and wus proud of it, but honest; and she
+knew the story of the hull Slide race.
+
+And she said that every one of 'em that had that face had traits
+accordin'; and most every one of 'em got into trouble of some kind.
+
+One or two of 'em, specially guarded, I s'pose, by good influences, got
+along with no further trouble than the loss of the chin, and the feelin'
+they must have had inside of 'em, that they wuz liable to crumple right
+down any minute.
+
+And as they wus made with jest them looks, and jest them traits, born
+so, entirely unbeknown to them, I don't know as I can blame Cicely for
+feelin' as she did. If temptation hadn't stood right in the road in
+front of him, why, he'd have got along, and lived happy. That's Cicely's
+idee. And I don't know but she's in the right ont.
+
+But as I said, when her child wus about four years old, Cicely took a
+turn, and begun to get all worked up and excited by turns a worryin'
+about the boy. She'd talk about it a sight to me, and I hearn it from
+others.
+
+She rousted up out of her deathly weakness and heartbroken, stunted
+calm,--for such it seemed to be for the first two or three years after
+her husband's death. She seemed to make an effort almost like that of a
+dead man throwin' off the icy stupor of death, and risin' up with numbed
+limbs, and shakin' off the death-robes, and livin' agin. She rousted up
+with jest such a effort, so it seemed, for the boy's sake.
+
+She must live for the boy; she must work for the boy; she must try to
+throw some safeguards around his future. What _could_ she do to help
+him? That wus the question that was a hantin' her soul.
+
+It wus jest like death for her to face the curius gaze of the world
+again; for, like a wounded animal, she had wanted to crawl away, and
+hide her cruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the
+sharp-sot eyes of the babblin' world.
+
+But she endured it. She came out of her quiet home, where her heart had
+bled in secret; she came out into society again; and she did every
+thing she could, in her gentle, quiet way. She joined temperance
+societies,--helped push 'em forward with her money and her influence.
+With other white-souled wimmen, gentle and refined as she was, she went
+into rough bar-rooms, and knelt on their floors, and prayed what her sad
+heart wus full of,--for pity and mercy for her boy, and other mothers'
+boys,--prayed with that fellowship of suffering that made her sweet
+voice as pathetic as tears, and patheticker, so I have been told.
+
+But one thing hurt her influence dretfully, and almost broke her own
+heart. Paul had left a very large property, but it wus all in the
+hands of an executor until the boy wus of age. He wus to give Cicely a
+liberal, a very liberal, sum every year, but wus to manage the property
+jest as he thought best.
+
+He wus a good business man, and one that meant to do middlin' near
+right, but wus close for a bargain, and sot, awful sot. And though he
+wus dretful polite, and made a stiddy practice right along of callin'
+wimmen "angels," still he would not brook a woman's interference.
+
+Wall, he could get such big rents for drinkin'-saloons, that four
+of Cicely's buildings wus rented for that purpose; and there wus one
+billiard-room. And what made it worse for Cicely seemin'ly, it wus her
+own property, that she brought to Paul when she wus married, that wus
+invested in these buildings. At that time they wus rented for dry-goods
+stores, and groceries. But the business of the manufactories had
+increased greatly; and there wus three times the population now there
+wus when she went there to live, and more saloons wus needed; and these
+buildings wus handy; and the executer had big prices offered to him,
+and he would rent 'em as he wanted to. And then, he wus something of a
+statesman; and he felt, as many business men did, that they wus fairly
+sufferin' for more saloons to enrich the government.
+
+Why, out of every hundred dollars that them poor laboring-men had earned
+so hardly, and paid into the saloons for that which, of course, wus
+ruinous to themselves and families, and, of course, rendered them
+incapable of all labor for a great deal of the time,--why, out of that
+hundred dollars, as many as 2 cents would go to the government to enrich
+it.
+
+Of course, the government had to use them 2 cents right off towards
+buyin' tight-jackets to confine the madmen the whiskey had made, and
+poorhouse-doors for the idiots it had breeded, to lean up aginst, and
+buryin' the paupers, and buyin' ropes to hang the murderers it had
+created.
+
+But still, in some strange way, too deep, fur too deep, for a woman's
+mind to comprehend, it wus dretful profitable to the government.
+
+Now, if them poor laborin'-men had paid that 2 cents of theirn to the
+government themselves, in the first place, in direct taxation, why, that
+wouldn't have been statesmanship. That is a deep study, and has a great
+many curius performances, and it has to perform.
+
+[Illustration: UNCLE SAM ENRICHING THE GOVERNMENT.]
+
+Cicely tried her very best to get the executor to change in this one
+matter; but she couldn't move him the width of a horse-hair, and he a
+smilin' all the time at her, and polite. He liked Cicely: nobody could
+help likin' the gentle, saintly-souled little woman. But he wus sot: he
+wus makin' money fast by it, and she had to give up.
+
+And rough men and women would sometimes twit her of it,--of her property
+bein' used to advance the liquor-traffic, and ruin men and wimmen; and
+she a feelin' like death about it, and her hands tied up, and powerless.
+No wonder that her face got whiter and whiter, and her eyes bigger and
+mournfuller-lookin'.
+
+Wall, she kep' on, tryin' to do all she could: she joined the Woman's
+Temperance Union; she spent her money free as water, where she thought
+it would do any good, and brought up the boy jest as near right as she
+could possibly bring him up; and she prayed, and wept right when she wus
+a bringin' of him, a thinkin' that _her_ property wus a bein' used every
+day and every hour in ruinin' other mothers' boys. And the boy's face
+almost breakin' her heart every time she looked at it; for, though he
+wus jest as pretty as a child could be, the pretty rosy lips had the
+same good-tempered, irresolute curve to 'em that the boy inherited
+honestly. And he had the same weak, waverin' chin. It was white and rosy
+now, with a dimple right in the centre, sweet enough to kiss. But
+the chin wus there, right under the rosy snow and the dimple; and I
+foreboded, too, and couldn't blame Cicely a mite for her forebodin', and
+her agony of sole.
+
+I noticed them lips and that chin the very minute Josiah brought him
+into the settin'-room, and set him down; and my eyes looked dubersome at
+him through my specks. Cicely see it, see that dubersome look, though
+I tried to turn it off by kissin' him jest as hearty as I could after
+I had took the little black-robed figure of his mother, and hugged her
+close to my heart, and kissed her time and time agin.
+
+She always dressed in the deepest of mournin', and always would. I knew
+that.
+
+Wall, we wus awful glad to see Cicely. I had had the old fireplace fixed
+in the front spare room, and a crib put in there for the boy; and I went
+right up to her room with her. And when we had got there, I took her
+right in my arms agin, as I used to, and told her how glad I wus, and
+how thankful I wus, to have her and the boy with us.
+
+The fire sparkled up on the old brass handirons as warm as my welcome.
+Her bed and the boy's bed looked white and cozy aginst the dark red
+of the carpet and the cream-colored paper. And after I had lowered the
+pretty ruffled muslin curtains (with red ones under 'em), and pulled
+a stand forward, and lit a lamp,--it wus sundown,--the room looked
+cheerful enough for anybody, and it seemed as if Cicely looked a little
+less white and brokenhearted. She wus glad to be with me, and said
+she wuz. But right there--before supper; and we could smell the roast
+chicken and coffee, havin' left the stair-door open--right there, before
+we had visited hardly any, or talked a mite about other wimmen, she
+begun on what she wanted to do, and what she _must_ do, for the boy.
+
+I had told her how the boy had grown, and that sot her off. And from
+that night, every minute of her time almost, when she could without
+bein' impolite and troublesome (Cicely wus a perfect lady, inside and
+out), she would talk to me about what she wanted to do for the boy, to
+have the laws changed before he grew up; she didn't dare to let him go
+out into the world with the laws as they was now, with temptation on
+every side of him.
+
+[Illustration: THE SPARE ROOM.]
+
+"You know, aunt Samantha," she says to me, "that I wanted to die when my
+husband died; but I want to live now. Why, I _must_ live; I cannot
+die, I dare not die until my boy is safer. I will work, I will die if
+necessary, for him."
+
+It wus the same old Cicely, I see, not carin' for herself, but carin'
+only for them she loved. Lovin' little creeter, good little creeter, she
+always wuz, and always would be. And so I told Josiah.
+
+Wall, we had the boy set between us to the supper-table, Josiah and me
+did, in Thomas Jefferson's little high-chair. I had new covered it on
+purpose for him with bright copperplate calico.
+
+And that night at supper, and after supper, I judged, and judged
+calmly,--we made the estimate after we went to bed, Josiah and me
+did,--that the boy asked 3 thousand and 85 questions about every thing
+under the sun and moon, and things over 'em, and outside of 'em, and
+inside.
+
+Why, I panted for breath, but wouldn't give in. I was determined to use
+Cicely first-rate, and we loved the boy too. But, oh! it was a weary
+love, and a short-winded love, and a hoarse one.
+
+We went to bed tuckered completely out, but good-natured: our love for
+'em held us up. And when we made the estimate, it wuzn't in a cross
+tone, but amiable, and almost winnin'. Josiah thought they went up into
+the trillions. But I am one that never likes to set such things too
+high; and I said calmly, 3,000 and 85. And finally he gin in that mebby
+it wuzn't no more than that.
+
+Cicely told me she couldn't stay with us very long now; for her aunt
+Mary wuz expectin' to go away to the Michigan pretty soon, to see a
+daughter who wus out of health,--had been out of it for some time,--and
+she wanted a visit from her neice Cicely before she went. But she
+promised to come back, and make a good visit on her way home.
+
+And so it was planned. The next day was Sunday, and Cicely wus too tired
+with her journey to go to meetin'. But the boy went. He sot up, lookin'
+beautiful, by the side of me on the back seat of the Democrat; his uncle
+Josiah sot in front; and Ury drove. Ury Henzy, he's our hired man, and
+a tolerable good one, as hired men go. His name is Urias; but we always
+call him Ury,--spelt U-r-y, Ury,--with the emphasis on the U.
+
+Wall, that day Elder Minkly preached. It wus a powerful sermon, about
+the creation of the world, and how man was made, and the fall of Adam,
+and about Noah and the ark, and how the wicked wus destroyed. It wus a
+middlin' powerful sermon; and the boy sot up between Josiah and me, and
+we wus proud enough of him. He had on a little green velvet suit and a
+deep linen collar; and he sot considerable still for him, with his eyes
+on Elder Minkly's face, a thinkin', I guess, how he would put us through
+our catechism on the way home. And, oh! didn't he, didn't he do it? I
+s'pose things seem strange to children, and they can't help askin' about
+'em.
+
+But 4,000 wus the estimate Josiah and me calculated on our pillows that
+night wus the number of questions the boy asked on our way home, about
+the creation, how the world wus made, and the ark--oh, how he harressed
+my poor companion about the animals! "Did they drive 2 of all the
+animals in the world in that house, uncle Josiah?"
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MEETING.]
+
+"Yes," says Josiah.
+
+"2 elfants, and rinosterhorses, and snakes, and snakes, and bears, and
+tigers, and cows, and camels, and hens?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"And flies, uncle Josiah?--did they drive in two flies? and mud-turkles?
+and bumble-bees? and muskeeters? Say, uncle Josiah, did they drive in
+muskeeters?"
+
+"I s'pose so."
+
+"_How_ could they drive in two muskeeters?"
+
+"Oh! less stop talkin' for a spell--shet up your little mouth," says
+Josiah in a winnin' tone, pattin' him on his head.
+
+"I can shut up my mouth, uncle Josiah, but I can't shut up my thinker."
+
+Josiah sithed; and, right while he wus a sithin', the boy commenced agin
+on a new tack.
+
+"What for a lookin' place was paradise?" And then follered 800 questions
+about paradise. Josiah sweat, and offered to let the boy come back, and
+set with me. He had insisted, when we started from the meetin'-house, on
+havin' the boy set on the front seat between him and Ury.
+
+But I demurred about any change, and leaned back, and eat a sweet apple.
+I don't think it is wrong Sundays to eat a sweet apple. And the boy kep'
+on.
+
+"What did Adam fall off of? Did he fall out of the apple-tree?"
+
+"No, no! he fell because he sinned."
+
+But the boy went right on, in a tone of calm conviction,--
+
+"No big man would be apt to fall a walking right along. He fell out of
+the apple-tree."
+
+And then he says, after a minute's still thought,--
+
+"I believe, if I had been there, and had a string round Adam's leg, I
+could kep' him from fallin' off;--and say, where was the Lord? Couldn't
+He have kept him? say, couldn't He?"
+
+"Yes: He can do any thing."
+
+"Wall, then, why didn't He?"
+
+Josiah groaned, low.
+
+"If Adam hadn't fell, I wouldn't have fell, would I?--nor you--nor
+Ury--nor anybody?"
+
+"No: I s'pose not."
+
+"Wall, wouldn't it have paid to kept Adam up? Say, uncle Josiah, say!"
+
+"Oh! less talk about sunthin' else," says my poor Josiah. "Don't you
+want a sweet apple?"
+
+"Yes; and say! what kind of a apple was it that Adam eat? Was it a sweet
+apple, or a greening, or a sick-no-further? And say, was it _right_
+for all of us to fall down because Adam did? And how did _I_ sin just
+because a man eat an apple, and fell out of an apple-tree, when I never
+saw the apple, or poked him offen the tree, or joggled him, or any
+thing--when I wasn't there? Say, how was it wrong, uncle Josiah? When I
+wasn't _there!_"
+
+My poor companion, I guess to sort o' pacify him, broke out kinder a
+singin' in a tone full of fag, "'In Adam's fall, we sinned all.'" Josiah
+is sound.
+
+"And be I a sinning now, uncle Josiah? and a falling? And is everybody a
+sinning and a falling jest because that one man eat one apple, and fell
+out of an apple-tree? Say, is it _right_, uncle Josiah, for you and
+me, and everybody that is on the earth, to keep a falling, and keep
+a falling, and bein' blamed, and every thing, when we hadn't done any
+thing, and wasn't _there?_ And _say_, will folks always keep a falling?"
+
+"Yes, if they hain't good."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH CLOSING THE CONVERSATION.]
+
+"_How_ can they keep a falling? If Adam fell out of the apple-tree,
+wouldn't he have struck on the ground, and got up agin? And if anybody
+falls, why, why, mustn't they come to the bottom sometime? If there is
+something to fall off of, mustn't there be something to hit against? And
+_say_"--
+
+Here the boy's eyes looked dreamier than they had looked, and further
+off.
+
+"Was I made out of dirt, uncle Josiah?"
+
+"Yes: we are all made out of dust."
+
+"And did God breathe our souls into us? Was it His own self, His own
+life, that was breathed into us?"
+
+"Yes," says Josiah, in a more fagged voice than he had used durin' the
+intervue, and more hopelesser.
+
+"Wall, if God is in us, how can He lose us again? Wouldn't it be a
+losing His own self? And how could God lose Himself? And what did He
+find us for, in the first place, if He wus going to lose us again?"
+
+Here Josiah got right up in the Democrat, and lifted the boy, and sot
+him over on the seat with me, and took the lines out of Ury's hands, and
+drove the old mair at a rate that I told him wus shameful on Sunday, for
+a perfessor.
+
+[Illustration: "IT WUS ON A SLAY-RIDE "]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely and the boy staid till Tuesday night. Tuesday afternoon the
+children wus all to home on a invitation. (I had a chicken-pie, and done
+well by 'em.)
+
+And nothin' to do but what Cicely and the boy must go home with 'em:
+they jest think their eyes of Cicely. And I couldn't blame 'em for
+wantin' her, though I hated to give her up.
+
+She laid out to stay a few days, and then come back to our house for a
+day or two, and then go on to her aunt Mary's. But, as it turned out,
+the children urged her so, she stayed most two weeks.
+
+And the very next day but one after Cicely went to the children's--And
+don't it beat all how, if visitors get to comin', they'll keep a comin'?
+jest as it is if you begin to have trials, you'll have lots of 'em, or
+broken dishes, or any thing.
+
+Wall, it wus the very next mornin' but one after Cicely had gone, and
+my voice had actually begun to sound natural agin (the boy had kep' me
+hoarse as a frog answerin' questions). I wus whitewashin' the kitchen,
+havin' put it off while Cicely wus there; and there wus a man to work a
+patchin' up the wall in one of the chambers,--and right there and then,
+Elburtus Smith Gansey come. And truly, we found him as clever a critter
+as ever walked the earth.
+
+It wus jest before korkuss; and he wus kinder visatin' round amongst
+his relations, and makin' himself agreable. He is my 5th cousin,--5th
+or 6th. I can't reely tell which, and I don't know as I care much; for
+I think, that, after you get by the 5th, it hain't much matter anyway. I
+sort o' pile 'em all in promiscous. Jest as it is after anybody gets to
+be 70 years old, it hain't much matter how much older they be: they are
+what you may call old, anyway.
+
+But I think, as I said prior and beforehand, that he wus a 5th. His
+mother wus a Butrick, and her mother wus a Smith. So he come to make us
+a visit, and sort o' ellectioneer round. He wanted to get put in county
+judge; and so, the korkuss bein' held in Jonesville, I s'pose he thought
+he'd come down, and endear himself to us, as they all do.
+
+I am one that likes company first-rate, and I always try to do well by
+'em; but I tell Josiah, that somehow city folks (Elburtus wus brought
+up in a city) are a sort of a bother. They require so much, and give
+you the feelin', that, when you are a doin' your very best for 'em, they
+hain't satisfied. You see, some folks'es best hain't nigh so good as
+other folks'es 3d or 4th.
+
+But this feller--why! I liked him from the first minute I sot my eyes on
+him. I hadn't seen him before sence I wus a child, and so didn't feel so
+awful well acquainted with him; or, that is, I didn't, as it were, feel
+intimate. You know, when you don't see anybody from the time you are
+babies till you are married, and have lost a good many teeth, and
+considerable hair, you can't feel over and above intimate with 'em at
+first sight.
+
+But I liked him, he wus so unassuming and friendly, and took every
+thing so peaceable and pleasant. And he deserved better things than what
+happened to him.
+
+You see, I wus a cleanin' house when he come, cleanin' the kitchen at
+that out-of-the-way time of year on account of Cicely's visit, and on
+account of repairin' that had promised to be done by Josiah Allen, and
+delayed from week to week, and month to month, as is the way with men.
+But finally he had got it done, and I wus ready to the minute with my
+brush and scourin'-cloth.
+
+I wus a whitewashin' when he come, and my pail of whitewash wus hung
+up over the kitchen-door; and I stood up on a table, a whitewashin' the
+ceilin, when I heard a buggy drive up to the door, and stop. And I stood
+still, and listened; and then I heard a awful katouse and rumpus, and
+then I heard hollerin'; and then I heard Josiah's voice, and somebody
+else's voice, a talkin' back and forth, sort o' quick and excited.
+
+Now, some wimmen would have been skairt, and acted skairt; but I didn't.
+I jest stood up on that table, cool and calm as a statue of Repose
+sculped out of marble, and most as white (I wus all covered with
+whitewash), with my brush held easy and firm in my right hand, and my
+left ear a listenin'.
+
+Pretty soon the door opened right by the side of the table, and in come
+Josiah Allen and a strange man. He introduced him to me as Elburtus
+Gansey, my 4th cousin; and I made a handsome curchy. I s'pose, bein' up
+on the table, the curchy showed off to better advantage than it would if
+I had been on the floor: it looked well. But I felt that I ort to shake
+hands with him; and, as I went to step down into a chair to get down
+(entirely unbeknown to me), my brush hit against that pail, and down
+come that pail of whitewash right onto his back. (If it had been his
+head, it would have broke it.)
+
+[Illustration: EXCELLENT LIME.]
+
+I felt as if I should sink. But he took it the best that ever wus. He
+said, when Josiah and me wus a sweepin' him off, and a rubbin' him off
+with wet towels, that "it wusn't no matter at all." And he spoke up so
+polite and courteous, that "it seemed to be first-rate whitewash: he
+never see better, whiter lime in his life, than that seemed to be."
+And then he sort o' felt of it between his thumb and finger, and asked
+Josiah "where did he get that lime, and if they had any more of it. He
+didn't believe they could get such lime outside of Jonesville." He acted
+like a perfect gentleman.
+
+And he told me, in that same polite, pleasant tone, how Josiah's old
+sheep had knocked him over 3 times while he wus a comin' into the house.
+He said, with that calm, gentle smile, "that no sooner would he get up,
+than he would stand off a little, and then rush at him with his head
+down, and push him right over."
+
+Says I, "It is a perfect shame and a disgrace," says I. "And I have
+told you, Josiah Allen, that some stranger would get killed by that old
+creeter; and I should think you would get rid of it."
+
+"Wall, I lay out to, the first chance I get," says he.
+
+Elburtus said "it would almost seem to be a pity, it was so strong and
+healthy a sheep." He said he never met a sheep under any circumstances
+that seemed to have a sounder, stronger constitution. He said of course
+the sheep and he hadn't met under the pleasantest of circumstances, and
+it wusn't over and above pleasant to be knocked down by it three or four
+times; but he had found that he couldn't have every thing as he wanted
+it in this world, and the only way to enjoy ourselves wus to take things
+as they come.
+
+Says I, "I s'pose that wus the way you took the sheep;" and he said, "It
+was."
+
+And then he went on to say in that amiable way of hisen, "that it
+probably made it a little harder for him jest at that time, as he
+wus struck by lightnin' that mornin'." (There had been a awful
+thunder-storm.)
+
+Says Josiah, all excitement, "Did it strike you sensible?"
+
+Says I, "You mean senseless, Josiah Allen."
+
+"Wall, I said so, didn't I? Did it strike you senseless, Mr. Gansey?"
+
+"No," he said: it only stunted him. And then he went on a praisin' up
+our Jonesville lightnin'. He said it wus about the cleanest, quickest
+lightnin' he ever see. He said he believed we had the smartest lightnin'
+in our county that you could find in the nation.
+
+So good he acted about every thing. It beat all. Why, he hadn't been in
+the house half an hour when he offered to help me whitewash. I told him
+I wouldn't let him, for it would spile his clothes, and he hadn't ever
+been there a visitin' before, and I didn't want to put him to work.
+But he hung on, and nothin' to do but what he had got to take hold and
+whitewash. And I had to give up and let him; for I thought it wus better
+manners to put a visiter to work, than it wus to dispute and quarrel
+with 'em: and, of course, he wasn't used to it, and he filled one eye
+most full of lime. It wus dretful painful, dretful.
+
+But I swabbed it out with viniger, and it got easier about the middle of
+the afternoon. It bein' work that he never done before, the whitewashin'
+looked like fury; but I done it all over after him, and so I got along
+with it, though it belated me. But his offerin' to do it showed his good
+will, anyway.
+
+I shouldn't have done any more at all after Elburtus had come, only I
+had got into the job, and had to finish it; for I always think it is
+better manners, when visitors come unexpected, and ketch you in some
+mean job, to go on and finish it as quick as you can, ruther than to set
+down in the dirt, and let them, ditto, and the same.
+
+And Josiah was ketched jest as I wus, for he had a piece of winter wheat
+that wus spilin' to be cut; and he had got the most of it down, and had
+to finish it: it wus lodged so he had to cut it by hand,--the machine
+wouldn't work on it. And jest as quick as Elburtus had got so he could
+see out of that eye, nothin' to do but what he had got to go out and
+help Josiah cut that wheat. He hadn't touched a scythe for years and
+years, and it wasn't ten minutes before his hands wus blistered on the
+inside. But he would keep at it till the blisters broke, and then he had
+to stop anyway.
+
+He got along quite well after that: only the lot where Josiah wus to
+work run along by old Bobbet'ses, and he had carried a jug of sweetened
+water and viniger and ginger out into the lot, and Elburtus had talked
+so polite and cordial to him, a conversin' on politics, that he got
+attached to him, and treated him to the sweetened water.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS ENDEARIN' HIMSELF TO MR. BOBBET.]
+
+And Elburtus, not wantin' to hurt his feelin's, drinked about 3 quarts.
+It made him deathly sick, for it went aginst his stomach from the first:
+he never loved it. And Miss Bobbet duz fix it dretful sickish,--sweetens
+it with sale mollasses for one thing.
+
+Oh, how sick that feller wus when he come in to supper! had to lay right
+down on the lounge.
+
+Says I, "Elburtus, what made you drink it, when it went aginst your
+stomach?" says I.
+
+"Why," says he in a faint voice, and pale round his lips as any thing,
+"I didn't want to hurt his feelin's by refusin'."
+
+Says I, out to one side, "Did you ever, Josiah Allen, see such goodness
+in your life?"
+
+"I never see such dumb foolishness," says he. "I'd love to have
+anybody ketch me a drinkin' three or four quarts of such stuff out of
+politeness."
+
+"No," says I coldly: "you hain't good enough."
+
+Wall, that night his bed got a fire. It seemed as if every thing under
+the sun wus a goin' to happen to that man while he wus here. You see,
+the house wus all tore up a repairing and I had to put him up-stairs:
+and the bed had been moved out by carpenters, to plaster a spot behind
+the bed; and, unbeknown to me, they had set it too near the stove-pipe.
+And the hot pipe run right up by the side of it, right by the
+bed-clothes. It took fire from the piller-case.
+
+We smelt a dretful smudge, and Josiah run right up-stairs: it had only
+jest ketched a fire, and Elburtus was sound asleep; and Josiah, the
+minute he see what wus the matter, he jest ketched up the water-pitcher,
+and throwed the water over him; and bein' skairt and tremblin', the
+pitcher flew out of his hand, and went too, and hit Elburtus on the end
+of his nose, and took a piece of skin right off.
+
+He waked up sudden; and there he wus, all drownded out, and a piece gone
+off of his nose.
+
+Now, most any other man would have acted mad. Josiah would have acted
+mad as a mad dog, and madder. But you ort to see how good Elburtus took
+it, jest as quick as he got his senses back. Josiah said he could almost
+take his oath that he swore out as cross a oath as he ever heard swore
+the first minute before he got his eyes opened, but I believe he wus
+mistaken. But anyway, the minute his senses come back, and he see where
+he wuz, you ort to see how he behaved. Never, never did I hear of such
+manners in all my born days! Josiah told me all about it.
+
+There Elburtus stood, with his nose a bleedin', and his whiskers singed,
+and a drippin' like a mushrat. But, instead of jawin' or complainin',
+the first thing he said wuz, "What a splendid draft our stove must have,
+or else the stove-pipe wouldn't be so hot!" (I had done some cookin'
+late in the evenin', and left a fire in the stove.)
+
+And he said our stove-wood must be of the very best quality; and he
+asked Josiah where he got it, and if he had to pay any thing extra for
+that kind. He said he'd give any thing if he could get holt of a cord of
+such wood as that!
+
+Josiah said he felt fairly stunted to see such manners; and he went
+to apologisin' about how awful bad it was for him to get his whiskers
+singed so, and how it wus a pure axident his lettin' the pitcher slip
+out of his hand, and he wouldn't have done it for nothin' if he could
+have helped it, and he wus afraid it had hurt him more than he thought
+for.
+
+And such manners as that clever critter showed then! He said he was a
+calculatin' to get his whiskers cut that very day, and it was all for
+the best; he persumed they wus singed off in jest the shape he wanted
+'em: and as for his nose, he wus always ashamed of it; it wus always too
+long, and he should be glad if there wus a piece gone off of it: Josiah
+had done him a favor to help him get rid of a piece of it.
+
+Why, when Josiah told it all over to me after he come down, I told him
+"I believed sunthin' would happen to that man before long. I believed he
+wus too good for earth."
+
+Josiah can't bear to hear me praise up any mortal man only himself, and
+he muttered sunthin' about "he bet he wouldn't be so tarnel good after
+'lection."
+
+But I wouldn't hear 110 such talk; and says I,--
+
+"If there wus ever a saint on earth, it is Elburtus Smith Gansey;" and
+says I, "If you try to vote for anybody else, I'll know the reason why."
+
+"Wall, wall! who said I wus a goin' to? I shall probable vote in the
+family; but he hain't no more saint than I be."
+
+I gin him a witherin' look; but, as it wus dark as pitch in the room,
+he didn't act withered any. And I spoke out agin, and says I, in a low,
+deep voice,--
+
+"If it wus one of the relations on your side, Josiah Allen, you would
+say he acted dretful good."
+
+And he says, "There is such a thing, Samantha, as bein' _too_ good--too
+_dumb_ good."
+
+I didn't multiply any more words with him, and we went to sleep.
+
+Wall, that is jest the way that feller acted for the next five days.
+Why, the neighbors all got to lovin' him so, why, they jest about
+worshipped him. And Josiah said that there wuzn't no use a talkin',
+Elburtus would get the nomination unanimous; for everybody that had
+seen him appear (and he had been all over the town appearing to 'em, and
+endearin' himself to 'em, cleer out beyond Jonesville as far as Spoon
+Settlement and Loontown), why, they jest thought their eyes of him, he
+wus so thoughtful and urbane and helpful. Why, there hain't no tellin'
+how much helpfuler he wuz than common folks, and urbaner.
+
+Why, Josiah and me drove into Jonesville one day towards night; and
+Elburtus had been there all day. Josiah had some cross-gut saws that he
+wanted to get filed, and had happened to mention it before Elburtus; and
+nothin' to do but he must go and carry 'em to the man in Jonesville that
+wus goin' to do it, and help him file 'em. Josiah told him we wus goin'
+over towards night with the team, and could carry 'em as well as not;
+and he hadn't better try to help, filin' saws wus such a sort of a
+raspin' undertakin'. But Elburtus said "he should probably go through
+more raspin' jobs before he died, or got the nomination; and Josiah
+could have 'em to bring home that night." So he sot out with 'em walkin'
+a foot.
+
+[Illustration: ELBERTUS APPEARIN']
+
+Wall, when we drove in, I see Elburtus a liftin' and a luggin', a
+loadin' a big barrell into a double wagon for a farmer; and I says,--
+
+"What under the sun is Elburtus Gansey a doin'?"
+
+And Josiah says, in a gay tone,--
+
+"He is a electionerin', Samantha: see him sweat," says he. "Salt is
+heavy, and political life is wearin', when anybody goes into it deep,
+and tackles it in the way Elburtus tackles it."
+
+He seemed to think it wus a joke; but I says,--
+
+"He is jest a killin' himself, Josiah Allen; and you would set here, and
+see him."
+
+"I hain't a runnin'," says he in a calm tone.
+
+"No," says I: "you wouldn't run a step to help anybody. And see there,"
+says I. "How good, how good that man is!"
+
+Elburtus had finished loadin' the salt, and now he wus a holdin' the
+horses for the man to load some spring-beds. And the horses wus skairt
+by 'em, and wuz jest a liftin' Elburtus right up offen his feet. Why,
+they pranced, and tore, and lifted him up, and switched him round, and
+then they'd set him down with a crash, and whinner.
+
+But that man smiled all the time, and took off his hat, and bowed to me:
+we went by when he wus a swingin' right up in the air. I never see the
+beat of his goodness. Why, we found out afterwards, that, besides filin'
+them saws, he had loaded seven barrells of salt that day, besides other
+heavy truck. That night he wus perfectly beat out--but good.
+
+Josiah said that Philander Dagget'ses wive's brother wouldn't have no
+chance at all. He wanted the nomination awful, and Philander had been
+a workin' for him all he could; and if Elburtus hadn't come down to
+Jonesville, and showed off such a beautiful demeanor and actions, why,
+we all thought that Philander's wive's brother would have got it. And I
+couldn't help feelin' kind o' sorry for him, though highly tickled for
+Elburtus. We both of us, Josiah and me, felt very pleased and extremely
+tickled to think that Elburtus wus so sure of it; for there wus a good
+deal of money in the office, besides honor, sights of honor.
+
+Wall, when the mornin' of town-meetin' came, that critter wus so awful
+clever that nothin' to do but what he must help Josiah do the chores.
+
+And amongst other chores Josiah had to do that mornin', wus to carry
+home a plow that belonged to old Dagget. And old Dagget wanted Josiah,
+when he had got through with it, to carry it to his son Philander's: and
+Philander had left word that he wanted it that mornin'; and he wanted it
+carried down to his lower barn, that stood in a meadow a mile away from
+any house. Philander'ses land run in such a way that he had to build it
+there to store his fodder.
+
+Wall, time run along, and it got time to start for town-meetin', and
+Elburtus couldn't be found. I hollered to him from the back stoop, and
+Josiah went out to the barn and hollered; but nothin' could be seen of
+him. And Josiah got all ready, and waited, and waited; and I told him
+that Elburtus had probable got in such a hurry to get there, that he
+had started on a foot, and he had better drive on, and he would
+overtake him. So finally he did; and he drove along clear to Jonesville,
+expectin' to overtake him every minute, and didn't. And the hull day
+passed off, and no Elburtus. And nobody had seen him. And everybody
+thought it looked so curius in him, a disapearin' as he did, when they
+all knew that he had come down to our part of the county a purpose
+to get the nomination. Why, his disapearin' as he did looked so awful
+strange, that they didn't know what to make of it.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS HOLDING THE HORSES.]
+
+And the opposition side, Philander Daggets'es wive's brother's friends,
+started the story that he wus arrested for stealin' a sheep, and wus
+dragged off to jail that mornin'.
+
+Of course Josiah tried to dispute it; but, as he wus as much in the dark
+as any of 'em as to where he wuz, his disputin' of it didn't amount to
+any thing. And then, Josiah's feelin' so strange about Elburtus made his
+eyes look kinder glassy and strange when they wus talkin' to him about
+it; and they got up the story, so I hearn, that Josiah helped him off
+with the sheep, and wus feelin' like death to have him found out.
+
+And the friends of Philander Daggets'es wive's brother had it all their
+own way, and he wus elected almost unanimous. Wall, Josiah come home
+early, he wus so worried about Elburtus. He thought mebby he had come
+back home after he had got away, and wus took sick sudden. And his first
+words to me wuz,--
+
+"Where is Elburtus? Have you seen Elburtus?"
+
+And then wus my time to be smit and horrow-struck. And the more we got
+to thinkin' about it, the more wonderful did it seem to us, that
+that man had dissapeared right in broad daylight, jest as sudden and
+mysterious as if the ground had opened, and swallowed him down, or as if
+he had spread a pair of wings, and flown up into the sky.
+
+Not that I really thought he had. I couldn't hardly associate the idee
+of heaven and endless repose with a short frock-coat and boots, and
+a blue necktie and a stiff shirt-collar. But, oh! how strange and
+mysterious it did seem to be! We talked it over and over, and we could
+not think of any thing that could happen to him. He knew enough to keep
+out of the creek; and there wasn't no woods nigh where he could get
+lost, and he wus too old to be stole. And so we thought and thought, and
+racked our 2 brains.
+
+And finally I says, "Wall! it hain't happened for several thousand
+years, but I don't know what to think. We read of folks bein' translated
+up to heaven when they get too good for earth, and you know I have told
+you several times that he wus too clever for earth. I have thought he
+wus not of the earth, earthy."
+
+"And I have thought," says he, sort o' snappish, "that he wus of
+politics, politicky."
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, I should be afraid, if I wus in your place, to
+talk in that way in such a time as this," says I. "I have felt, when I
+see his actions when he wus knocked over by that sheep, and covered with
+lime, and sot fire to, I have felt as if we wus entertainin' a angel
+unawares."
+
+"Yes," says he, "it _wuz unawares_, entirely _unawares_ to me."
+
+His axent wus dry, dry as chaff, and as full of ironry as a oven-door or
+flat-iron.
+
+"Wall," says I, "mebby you will see the time, before the sun rises on
+your bald head again, that you will be sorry for such talk." Says I, "If
+it wus one of the relation on your side, mebby you would talk different
+about him." That touched him; and he snapped out,--
+
+"What do you s'pose I care which side he wus on? And I should think it
+wus time to have a little sunthin' to eat: it must be three o'clock if
+it is a minute."
+
+Says I, "Can you eat, Josiah Allen, in such a time as this?"
+
+"I could if I could _get_ any thing to eat," says he; "but there don't
+seem to be much prospect of it."
+
+Says I, "The best thing you can do, Josiah Allen, is to foller his
+tracks. The ground is kinder soft and spongy, and you can do it," says
+I. "Where did he go to last from here?"
+
+"Down to Philander Daggets'es, to carry home his plow."
+
+"That angel man!" says I.
+
+"That angel fool!" says Josiah. "Who asked him to go?"
+
+Says I, "When a man gets too good for earth, there is other ways to
+translate him besides chariots of fire. Who knows but what he has fell
+down in a fit! And do you go this minute, Josiah Allen, and foller his
+tracks!"
+
+"I sha'n't foller nobody's tracks, Samantha Allen, till I have sunthin'
+to eat."
+
+I knew there wuzn't no use of reasonin' no further with him then; for
+when he said Samantha Allen in that axent, I knew he wus as sot as a
+hemlock post, and as hard to move as one. And so my common sense bein'
+so firm and solid, even in such a time as this, I reasoned it right out,
+he wouldn't stir till he had sunthin' to eat, and so the sooner I got
+his supper, the sooner he would go and foller Elburtus'es tracks. So I
+didn't spend no more strength a arguin', but kep' it to hurry up; and
+my reason is such, strong and vigorous and fur-seein', that I knew the
+better supper he had, the more animated would be his search. So I got a
+splendid supper, but quick.
+
+[Illustration: HUNTING FOR ELBURTUS.]
+
+But, oh! all the time I wus a gettin' it, this solemn and awful question
+wus a hantin' me,--What had become of Elburtus Smith Gansey? What had
+become of the relation on my side? Oh, the feelin's I felt! Oh, the
+emotions I carried round with me, from buttery to teakettle, and from
+teapot to table!
+
+But finally, after eatin' longer than it seemed to me he ever eat before
+(such wus my feelin's), Josiah started off acrost the lot, towards
+Daggets'es barn. And I stood in the west door, with my hand over my
+eyes, a watchin' him most every minute he wus gone. And when that man
+come back, he come a laughin'. And I wus that madded, to have him look
+in that sort of a scorfin' way, that I wouldn't say a word to him; and
+he come into the house a laughin', and sot down and crossed his legs a
+laughin', and says he,--
+
+"What do you s'pose has become of the relation on your side?" And says
+he, snickerin' agin,--
+
+"You wus in the right on it, Samantha,--he did asscend: he went up!" And
+agin he snickered loud. And says I coldly, cold as ice almost,--
+
+"If I wuzn't a perfect luny, or idiot, I'd talk as if I knew sunthin'.
+You know I said that, as one who allegores. If you have found Elburtus
+Gansey, I'd say so, and done with it."
+
+"Wall," says he, "you _wuz_ in the right of it, and that is what tickles
+me. He got locked up in Dagget's barn. He asscended, jest as I told you.
+He went up the ladder over the hay, to throw down fodder, and got locked
+up _axidental_." And, as he said "axidental," he snickered worse than
+ever.
+
+And I says, "It is a mean, miserable, good for nothin', low-lived
+caper! And Philander Dagget done it a purpose to keep Elburtus from the
+town-meetin', so his wive's brother would get the election. And, if
+I wus Elburtus Gansey, I'd sue him, and serve a summons on him, and
+prosicute him."
+
+"Why," says Josiah, in the same hilarious axent, and the same scorfin'
+look onto him, "Philander says he never felt so worked up about any
+thing in his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night,
+and found Elburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for
+he wus so afraid that some evil-minded person might say he done it a
+purpose. And he said what made him feel the worst about it wuz to think
+that he should have shut him up axidental when he wus a helpin' so
+good."
+
+Says I, "The mean, impudent creeter! As good as Elburtus wuz!"
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, "you know what I told you,--there is such a thing
+as bein' _too_ good."
+
+I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought up
+and excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, and
+wouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose that
+wus the great trouble with Elburtus,--he wus a leetle _too_ good.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't s'pose Philander had laid any plot
+to keep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he
+had laughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and
+had made a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of
+his wive's brother, and wanted him to get the election.
+
+And I s'pose the idee come to him after Elburtus had got down to the
+barn where he wus a fodderin' his sheep.
+
+You see, if Elburtus had let well enough alone, and not been _too_ good,
+every thing would have gone off right then, but he wouldn't. Nothin' to
+do but he must help Philander get down his fodder. And I s'pose then
+the idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there till
+after 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' a
+axident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. But
+every time he says that word "axident," he will laugh out so sort o'
+aggravatin'. That is what mads me to this day.
+
+But, as Josiah says, who would have thought that Elburtus would have
+offered to carry that plow home, and throw down the fodder?
+
+But, at any rate, Philander turned the key on him while he wus up
+over-head, and locked him in there for the day. A meaner, low-liveder,
+miserabler caper, I never see nor heard of.
+
+But the way Philander gets out of it (he is a natural liar, and has had
+constant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus
+to work on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone
+out, and gone home; and he locked the door, and went away.
+
+He says (the mean, sneakin', hippocritical creeter!) that he feels like
+death about it, to think it happened so, and on that day too. And he
+says what makes him feel the meanest is, to think it was his wive's
+brother that wus up on the other side, and got the nomination. He says
+it leaves room for talk.
+
+And there it is. You can't sue a man for lockin' his own barn-door. And
+Elburtus wouldn't want it brought into court, anyway; for folks would
+be a wonderin' so what under the sun he wus a prowlin' round for up
+overhead in Philander Daggets'es barn.
+
+So he wus obliged to let the subject drop, and Philander has it all his
+own way. And they say his wive's brother give him ten silver dollars
+for his help. And that is pretty good pay for turnin' one lock, about 2
+seconts' work.
+
+Wall, anyway, that wus the last thing that happened to Elburtus in
+Jonesville; and whether he took it polite and easy, or not, I don't
+know. For that night, when Philander went down to the barn to fodder,
+jest before Josiah went there, and let him out (and acted perfectly
+suprised and horrified at findin' him there, Philander did, so I have
+been told), Elburtus started a bee-line for the depo, and never come
+back here at all; and he left a good new handkerchief, and a shirt, and
+3 paper collars.
+
+And whether he has kep' on a sufferin', or not, I don't know. Mebby he
+had his trials in one batch, as you may say, and is now havin' a spell
+of enjoyments. I am sure, I hope so; for a cleverer, good-natureder,
+polite-appearin'er creeter, _I_ never see, nor don't expect to see agin
+in my life; and so I tell Josiah.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The next evenin' follerin' after the exodus of Elburtus Gansey, Josiah
+and I, thinkin' that we needed a relaxation to relax our two minds, rode
+into Jonesville. We went in the Democrat, at my request; for I wus in
+hopes Cicely would come home with us.
+
+And she did. We had a good ride. I sot in front with Josiah at his
+request; and what made it pleasanter wuz, the boy stood up in the
+Democrat behind me a good deal of the way, with his arms round my neck,
+a kissin' me.
+
+And when I waked up in the mornin', I wus glad to think they wus there.
+Though Cicely wuzn't well: I could see she wuzn't. I felt sad at the
+breakfast-table to see how her fresh young beauty wus bein' blowed away
+by the sharp breath of sorrow's gale.
+
+But she wus sweet and gentle as ever the posy wus we had named her
+after. No Sweet Cicely blow wus ever sweeter and purer than she wuz.
+After I got my work all done up below,--she offerin' to help me, and a
+not lettin' her lift her finger,--I went up into her room, where there
+wus a bright fire on the hearth, and every thing looked cozy and snug.
+
+The boy, havin' wore himself out a harrowin' his uncle Josiah and Ury
+with questions, had laid down on the crimson rug in front of the fire,
+and wus fast asleep, gettin' strength for new labors.
+
+And Cicely sot in a little low rockin'-chair by the side of him. She had
+on a white flannel mornin'-dress, and a thin white zephyr worsted shawl
+round her; and her silky brown hair hung down her back, for she had been
+a brushin' it out; and she looked sweet and pretty enough to kiss; and I
+kissed her right there, before I sot down, or any thing.
+
+And then, thinks'es I as I sot down, we will have a good, quiet visit,
+and talk some about other wimmen. (No runnin' 'em: I'd scorn it, and so
+would she.)
+
+But I thought I'd love to talk it over with her, about what good
+housekeepers Tirzah Ann and Maggie wuz. And I wanted to hear what she
+thought about the babe, and if she could say in cander that she ever see
+a little girl equal her in graces of mind and body.
+
+And I wanted to hear all about her aunt Mary and her aunt Melissa (on
+her father's side). I knew she had had letters from 'em. And I wanted
+to hear how she that was Jane Smith wuz, that lived neighbor to her
+aunt Mary's oldest daughter, and how that oldest daughter wuz, who
+wus s'posed to be a runnin' down. And I wanted to hear about Susan Ann
+Grimshaw, who had married her aunt Melissy's youngest son. There wus
+lots of news that I felt fairly sufferin' for, and lots of news that I
+felt like disseminatin' to her.
+
+But, if you'll believe it, jest as I had begun to inquire, and take
+comfort, she branched right off, a lady-like branch, and a courteous
+one, but still a branch, and begun to talk about "what should she
+do--what could she do--for the boy."
+
+And she looked down on him as he lay there, with such a boundless love,
+and a awful dread in her eyes, that it was pitiful in the extreme to see
+her; and says she,--
+
+"What will become of him in the future, aunt Samantha, with the laws as
+they are now?"
+
+[Illustration: THE BABY.]
+
+And with such a chin and mouth as he has got, says I to myself, lookin'
+down on him; but I didn't say it out loud. I am too well bread.
+
+"It must be we can get the laws changed before he grows up. I dare not
+trust him in a world that has such temptations, such snares set ready
+for him. Why," says she--And she fairly trembled as she said it. She
+would always throw her whole soul into any thing she undertook; and in
+this she had throwed her hull heart, too, and her hull life--or so it
+seemed to me, to look at her pale face, and her big, glowin' eyes, full
+of sadness, full of resolve too.
+
+"Why, just think of it! How he will be coaxed into those
+drinking-saloons! how, with his easy, generous, good-natured ways,--and
+I know he will have such ways, and be popular,--a bright, handsome young
+man, and with plenty of money. Just think of it! how, with those open
+saloons on every side of him, when he can't walk down the street without
+those gilded bars shining on every hand; and the friends he will make,
+gay, rich, thoughtless young men like himself--they will laugh at him
+if he refuses to do as they do; and with my boy's inherited tastes and
+temperament, his easiness to be led by those he loves, what will hinder
+him from going to ruin as his poor father did? What will keep him, aunt
+Samantha?"
+
+And she busted out a cryin'.
+
+I says, "Hush, Cicely," layin' my hand on hern. It wus little and soft,
+and trembled like a leaf. Some folks would have called her nervous and
+excitable; but I didn't, thinkin' what she had went through with the
+boy's father.
+
+Says I, "There is One who is able to save him. And, instead of gettin'
+yourself all worked up over what may never be, I think it would be
+better to ask Him to save the boy."
+
+"I do ask Him, every day, every hour," says she, sobbin' quieter like.
+
+"Wall, then, hush up, Cicely."
+
+And sometimes she would hush up, and sometimes she wouldn't.
+
+But how she would talk about what she wanted to do for him! I heard her
+talkin' to her uncle Josiah one day.
+
+You see, she worried about the boy to that extent, and loved him so,
+that she would have been willin' to have had her head took right off,
+if that would have helped him, if it would have insured him a safe and
+happy future; but it wouldn't: and so she was willin' to do any other
+hard job if there wus any prospect of its helpin' the boy.
+
+She wus willin' to vote on the temperance question.
+
+But Josiah wus more sot than usial that mornin' aginst wimmen's votin';
+and he had begun himself on the subject to Cicely; had talked powerful
+aginst it, but gentle: he loved Cicely as he did his eyes.
+
+He had been to a lecture the night before, to Toad Holler, a little
+place between Jonesville and Loontown. He and uncle Nate Burpy went up
+to hear a speech aginst wimmen's suffrage, in a Democrat.
+
+Josiah said it wus a powerful speech. He said uncle Nate said, "The
+feller that delivered it ort to be President of the United States:" he
+said, "That mind ort to be in the chair."
+
+And I said I persumed, from what I had heard of it, that his mind wuz
+tired, and ort to set down and rest.
+
+I spoke light, because Josiah Allen acted so high-headed about it. But I
+do s'pose it wus a powerful effort, from what I hearn.
+
+He talked dretful smart, they say, and used big words.
+
+[Illustration: A GREAT EFFORT.]
+
+The young feller that gin the lecture, and his sister, oldest, and she
+set her eyes by him. She had took care of the old folks, supported 'em
+and lifted 'em round herself; took all the care of 'em in every way
+till they died: and then this boy didn't seem to have much faculty for
+gettin' along; so she educated him, sewed for tailors' shops, and got
+money, and sent him to school and college, so he could talk big.
+
+And it was such a comfort to that sister, to sort o' rest off for
+an evenin' from makin' vests and pantaloons, cheap, to furnish him
+money!--it was so sort o' restful to her to set and hear him talk large
+aginst wimmen's suffrage and the weakness and ineficiency of wimmen!
+
+He said, the young chap did, and proved it right out, so they said,
+"that the franchise was too tuckerin' a job for wimmen to tackle, and
+that wimmen hadn't the earnestness and persistency and deep forethought
+to make her valuable as a franchiser--or safe."
+
+You see, he had his hull strength, the young chap did; for his sister
+had clothed him, as well as boarded him, and educated him: so he could
+talk powerful. He could use up quantities of wind, and not miss it,
+havin' all his strength.
+
+His speech made a deep impression on men and wimmen. His sister bein'
+so wore out, workin' so hard, wept for joy, it was so beautiful, and
+affected her so powerful. And she said "she never realized till that
+minute how weak and useless wimmen really was, and how strong and
+powerful men was."
+
+It wus a great effort. And she got a extra good supper for him that
+night, I heard, wantin' to repair the waste in his system, caused
+by eloquence. She wus supportin' him till he got a client: he wus a
+studyin' law.
+
+Wall, Josiah wus jest full of his arguments; and he talked 'em over to
+Cicely that mornin'.
+
+But she said, after hearin' 'em all, "that she wus willin' to vote
+on the temperance question. She had thought it all over," she said.
+"Thought how the nation lay under the curse of African slavery until
+that race of slaves were freed. And she believed, that when women who
+were now in legal bondage, were free to act as their heart and reason
+dictated, that they, who suffered most from intemperance, would be the
+ones to strike the blow that would free the land from the curse."
+
+Curius that she should feel so, but you couldn't get the idee out of her
+head. She had pondered over it day and night, she said,--pondered over
+it, and prayed over it.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't know as it wus so curius after all,
+when I thought how Paul had ruined himself, and broke her heart, and
+how her money wus bein' used now to keep grog-shops open, four of her
+buildin's rented to liquor-dealers, and she couldn't help herself.
+
+Cicely owned lots of other landed property in the village where she
+lived; and so, of course, her property wus all taxed accordin' to its
+worth. And its bein' the biggest property there, of course it helped
+more than any thing else did to keep the streets smooth and even before
+the saloon-doors, so drunkards could get there easy; and to get new
+street-lamps in front of the saloons and billiard-rooms, so as to make a
+real bright light to draw 'em in and ruin 'em.
+
+There wus a few--the doctor, who knew how rum ruined men's bodies; and
+the minister, he knew how it ruined men's souls--they two, and a few
+others, worked awful hard to get the saloons shut up.
+
+But the executor, who wanted the town to go license, so's he could make
+money, and thinkin' it would be for her interest in the end, hired votes
+with her money. Her money used to hire liquor-votes! So she heard, and
+believed. The idee!
+
+So her money, and his influence, and the influence of low appetites,
+carried the day; and the liquor-traffic won. The men who rented her
+houses, voted for license to a man. Her property used agin to spread the
+evil! She labored with these men with tears in her eyes. And they liked
+her. She was dretful good to 'em. (As I say, she held the things of this
+world with a loose grip.)
+
+They listened to her respectful, stood with their hats in their' hands,
+answerin' her soft, and went soft out of her presence--and voted license
+to a man. You see, they wus all willin' to give her love and courtesy
+and kindness, but not the right to do as her heaven-learnt sense of
+right and wrong wanted her to. She had a fine mind, a pure heart: she
+had been through the highest schools of the land, and that higher,
+heavenly school of sufferin', where God is the teacher, and had
+graduated from 'em with her lofty purposes refined and made luminous
+with some thin' like the light of Heaven.
+
+But those men--many of 'em who did not know a letter of the alphabet,
+whose naturally dull minds had become more stupified by habitual
+vice--those men, who wus her inferiors, and her servants in every thing
+else, wus each one of 'em her king here, and she his slave: and they
+compelled her to obey their lower wills.
+
+Wall, Cicely didn't think it wus right. Curius she should think so, some
+folks thought, but she did.
+
+But all this that wore on her wus as nothin' to what she felt about the
+boy,--her fears for his future. "What could she do--what _could_ she do
+for the boy, to make it safer for him in the future?"
+
+And I had jest this one answer, that I'd say over and over agin to
+her,--
+
+"Cicely, you can pray! That is all that wimmen can do. And try to
+influence him right now. God can take care of the boy."
+
+"But I can't keep him with me always; and other influences will come,
+and beat mine down. And I have prayed, but God don't hear my prayer."
+
+And I'd say, calm and soothin', "How do you know, Cicely?"
+
+And she says, "Why, how I prayed for help when my poor Paul went down to
+ruin, through the open door of a grog-shop! If the women of the land had
+it in their power to do what their hearts dictate,--what the poorest,
+lowest _man_ has the right to do,--every saloon, every low grog-shop,
+would be closed."
+
+She said this to Josiah the mornin' after the lecture I speak of. He sot
+there, seemin'ly perusin' the almanac; but he spoke up then, and says,--
+
+"You can't shet up human nater, Cicely: that will jump out any way. As
+the poet says, 'Nater will caper.'"
+
+But Cicely went right on, with her eyes a shinin', and a red spot in her
+white cheeks that I didn't like to see.
+
+"A thousand temptations that surround my boy now, could be removed, a
+thousand low influences changed into better, helpful ones. There are
+drunkards who long, who pray, to have temptations removed out of their
+way,--those who are trying to reform, and who dare not pass the door of
+a saloon, the very smell of the liquor crazing them with the desire for
+drink. They want help, they pray to be saved; and we who are praying to
+help them are powerless. What if, in the future, my boy should be like
+one of them,--weak, tempted, longing for help, and getting nothing but
+help towards vice and ruin? Haven't mothers a right to help those
+they love in _every_ way,--by prayer, by influence, by legal right and
+might?"
+
+"It would be a dangerous experiment, Cicely," says Josiah, crossin' his
+right leg over his left, and turnin' the almanac to another month. "It
+seems to me sunthin' unwomanly, sunthin' aginst nater. It is turnin'
+the laws of nater right round. It is perilous to the domestic nature of
+wimmen."
+
+"I don't think so," says I. "Don't you remember, Josiah Allen, how
+you worried about them hens that we carried to the fair? They wus so
+handsome, and such good layers, that I really wanted the influence of
+them hens to spread abroad. I wanted otherfolks to know about 'em, so's
+to have some like 'em. But you worried awfully. You wus so afraid that
+carryin' the hens into the turmoil of public life would have a tendency
+to keep 'em from wantin' to make nests and hatch chickens! But it
+didn't. Good land! one of 'em made a nest right there, in the coop to
+the fair, with the crowd a shoutin' round 'em, and laid two eggs. You
+can't break up nature's laws; _they_ are laid too deep and strong for
+any hammer we can get holt of to touch 'em; all the nations and empires
+of the world can't move 'em round a notch.
+
+"A true woman's deepest love and desire are for her home and her loved
+ones, and planted right in by the side of these two loves of hern is a
+deathless instinct and desire to protect and save them from danger.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S HENS.]
+
+"Good land! I never heard a old hen called out of her spear, and
+unhenly, because she would fly out at a hawk, and cackle loud, and
+cluck, and try to lead her chickens off into safety. And while the
+rooster is a steppin' high, and struttin' round, and lookin' surprised
+and injured, it is the old hen that saves the chickens, nine times out
+of ten.
+
+"It is against the evil hawks,--men-hawks,--that are ready to settle
+down, and tear the young and innocent out of the home nest, that
+wimmen are tryin' to defend their children from. And men may talk about
+wimmen's gettin' too excited and zealous; but they don't cluck and
+cackle half so loud as the old hen does, or flutter round half so
+earnest and fierce.
+
+"And the chicken-hawk hain't to be compared for danger to the men-hawks
+Cicely is tryin' to save her boy from. And I say it is domestic love
+in her to want to protect him, and tenderness, and nature, and grace,
+and--and--every thing."
+
+I wus wrought up, and felt deeply, and couldn't express half what I
+felt, and didn't much care if I couldn't. I wus so rousted up, I felt
+fairly reckless about carin' whether Josiah or anybody understood me
+or not. I knew the Lord understood me, and I knew what I felt in my own
+mind, and I didn't much care for any thing else. Wimmen do have such
+spells. They get fairly wore out a tryin' to express what they feel in
+their souls to a gain-sayin' world, and have that world yell out at 'em,
+"Unwomanly! unwomanly!" I say, Cicely wuzn't unwomanly. I say, that,
+from the very depths of her lovin' little soul, she wus pure womanly,
+affectionate, earnest, tender-hearted, good; and, if anybody tells me
+she wuzn't, I'll know the reason why.
+
+But, while I wus a reveryin' this, my Josiah spoke out agin', and
+says,--
+
+"Influence the world through your child, Cicely! influence him, and let
+him influence the world. Let him make the world better and purer by your
+influencein' it through him."
+
+"Why not use that influence _now, myself_? I have it here right in my
+heart, all that I could hope to teach to my boy, at the best. And why
+wait, and set my hopes of influencing the world through him, when a
+thousand things may happen to weaken that influence, and death and
+change may destroy it? Why, my one great fear and dread is, that my
+boy will be led away by other, stronger influences than mine,--the
+temptations that have overthrown so many other children of prayer--how
+dare I hope that my boy will withstand them? And death may claim him
+before he could bear my influence to the world. Why not use it now,
+myself, to help him, and other mothers' boys? If it is, as you say, an
+experiment, why not let mothers try it? It could not do any harm; and it
+would ease our poor, anxious hearts some, to make the effort, even if
+it proved useless. No one can have a deeper interest in the children's
+welfare than their mothers. Would they be apt to do any thing to harm
+them?"
+
+And then I spoke up, entirely unbeknown to myself, and says,--
+
+"Selfishness has had its way for years and years in politics, and now
+why not let unselfishness have it for a change? For, Josiah Allen," says
+I firmly, "you know, and I know, that, if there is any unselfishness in
+this selfish world, it is in the heart of a mother."
+
+"It would be apt to be dangerous," says Josiah, crossin' his left leg
+over his right one, and turnin' to a new month in the almanac. "It would
+most likely be apt to be."
+
+"_Why_?" says Cicely. "Why is it dangerous? Why is it wrong for a women
+to try to help them she would die for? Yes," says she solemnly, "I would
+die for Paul any time if I knew it would smooth his pathway, make it
+easier for him to be a good man."
+
+"Wall, you see, Cicely," says Josiah in a soft tone,--his love for her
+softenin' and smoothin' out his axent till it sounded almost foolish and
+meachin',--"you see, it would be dangerous for wimmen to vote, because
+votin' would be apt to lower wimmen in the opinion of us men and the
+public generally. In fact, it would be apt to lower wimmen down to
+mingle in a lower class. And it would gaul me dretfully," says Josiah,
+turnin' to me, "to have our sweet Cicely lower herself into a lower
+grade of society: it would cut me like a knife."
+
+And then I spoke right up, for I can't stand too much foolishness at one
+time from man or woman; and I says,--
+
+"I'd love to have you speak up, Josiah Allen, and tell me how wimmen
+would go to work to get any lower in the opinion of men; how they could
+get into any lower grade of society than they are minglin' with now.
+They are ranked now by the laws of the United States, and the will of
+men, with idiots, lunatics, and criminals. And how pretty it looks for
+you men to try to scare us, and make us think there is a lower class we
+could get into! _There hain't any lower class that we can get into_ than
+the ones we are in now; and you know it, Josiah Allen. And you sha'n't
+scare Cicely by tryin' to make her think there is."
+
+He quailed. He knew there wuzn't. He knew he had said it to scare us,
+Cicely and me, and he felt considerable meachin' to think he had got
+found out in it. But he went on in ruther of a meek tone,--
+
+"It would be apt to make talk, Cicely."
+
+"What do I care for talk?" says she. "What do I care for honor, or
+praise, or blame? I only want to try to save my boy."
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND HER PEERS.]
+
+And she kep' right on with her tender, earnest voice, and her eyes a
+shinin' like stars,--
+
+"Have I not a right to help him? Is he not _my_ child? Did not God give
+me a _right_ to him, when I went down into the darkness with God alone,
+and a soul was given into my hands? Did I not suffer for him? Have I not
+been blessed in him? Why, his little hands held me back from the gates
+of death. By all the rights of heavenliest joy and deepest agony--is he
+not _mine_? Have I not a _right_ to help him in his future?
+
+"Now I hold him in my arms, my flesh, my blood, my life. I hold him on
+my heart now: he is _mine_. I can shield him from danger: if he should
+fall into the flames, I could reach in after him, and die with him, or
+save him. God and man give me that right now: I do not have to ask for
+it.
+
+"But in a few years he will go out from me, carrying my own life with
+him, my heart will go with him, to joy or to death. He will go out into
+dangers a thousand-fold worse than death,--dangers made respectable and
+legal,--and I can't help him.
+
+"_I_ his mother, who would die for him any hour--I must stand with my
+eyes open, but my hands bound, and see him rushing headlong into flames
+tenfold hotter than fire; see him on the brink of earthly and eternal
+ruin, and can't reach out my hand to hold him back. My _boy!_ My _own!_
+Is it right? Is it just?"
+
+And she got up, and walked the room back and forth, and says,--
+
+"How can I bear the thought of it? How can I live and endure it? And how
+can I die, and leave the boy?"
+
+And her eyes looked so big and bright, and that spot of red would look
+so bright on her white cheeks, that I would get skairt. And I'd try to
+sooth her down, and talk gentle to her. And I says,--
+
+"All things are possible with God, and you must wait and hope."
+
+But she says, "What will hope do for me when my boy is lost? I want to
+save him now."
+
+It did beat all, as I told Josiah, out to one side, to see such hefty
+principles and emotions in such a little body. Why, she didn't weigh
+much over 90, if she did any.
+
+And Josiah whispered back, "All women hain't like Cicely."
+
+And I says in the same low, deep tones, "All men hain't like George
+Washington! Now get me a pail of water."
+
+And he went out. But it did beat all, how that little thing, when she
+stood ready, seemin'ly, to tackle the nation--I've seen her jump up in a
+chair, afraid of a mice. The idee of anybody bein' afraid of a mice, and
+ready to tackle the Constitution!
+
+And she'd blush up red as a rosy if a stranger would speak to her. But
+she would fight the hull nation for her boy.
+
+And I'd try to sooth her (for that red spot on her cheeks skairt me, and
+I foreboded about her). I said to her after Josiah went out, a holdin'
+her little hot hands in mine,--for sometimes her hands would be hot and
+feverish, and then, agin, like two snowflakes,--
+
+"Cicely, women's voting on intemperance would, as your uncle Josiah
+says, be a experiment. I candidly think and believe that it would be
+a good thing,--a blessin' to the youth of the land, a comfort to the
+females, and no harm to the males. But, after all, we don't know what it
+would do"--
+
+"I _know_" says she. And her eyes had such a far-off, prophetic look in
+'em, that I declare for't, if I didn't almost think she _did_ know. I
+says to myself,--
+
+"She's so sweet and unselfish and good, that I believe she's more than
+half-ways into heaven now. The Holy Scriptures, that I believe in, says,
+'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' And it don't
+say where they shall see Him, or when. And it don't say that the light
+that fell from on high upon the blessed mother of our Lord, shall never
+fall again on other heart-broken mothers, on other pure souls beloved of
+Him."
+
+And it is the honest truth, that it would not have surprised me much
+sometimes, as she wus settin' in the twilight with the boy in her arms,
+if I had seen a halo round her head; and so I told Josiah one night,
+after she had been a settin' there a holdin' the boy, and a singin' low
+to him,--
+
+  "'A charge to keep I have,--
+    A God to glorify;
+  A never-dying soul to save,
+    And fit it for the sky.'"
+
+It wuzn't _her_ soul she wus a thinkin' of, I knew. She didn't think of
+herself: she never did.
+
+And after she went to bed, I mentioned the halo. And Josiah asked what
+that was. And I told him it was "the inner glory that shines out from a
+pure soul, and crowns a holy life."
+
+And he said "he s'posed it was some sort of a headdress. Wimmen was so
+full of new names, he thought it was some new kind of a crowfar."
+
+I knew what he meant. He didn't mean crowfar, he meant _crowfure_. That
+is French. But I wouldn't hurt his feelin's by correctin' him; for I
+thought "fur" or "fure," it didn't make much of any difference.
+
+[Illustration: "A CHARGE TO KEEP I HAVE."]
+
+Wall, the very next day, when Josiah came from Jonesville,--he had been
+to mill,--he brought Cicely a letter from her aunt Mary. She wanted
+her to come on at once; for her daughter, who wus a runnin' down, wus
+supposed to be a runnin' faster than she had run. And her aunt Mary
+was goin' to start for the Michigan very soon,--as soon as she got well
+enough: she wasn't feelin' well when she wrote. And she wanted Cicely to
+come at once.
+
+So she went the next day, but promised that jest as quick as she got
+through visitin' her aunt and her other relations there, she would come
+back here.
+
+So she went; and I missed her dretfully, and should have missed her more
+if it hadn't been for the state my companion returned in after he had
+carried Cicely to the train.
+
+He come home rampant with a new idee. All wrought up about goin' into
+politics. He broached the subject to me before he onharnessed, hitchin'
+the old mair for the purpose. He wanted to be United-States senator. He
+said he thought the nation needed him.
+
+"Needs you for what?" says I coldly, cold as a ice suckle.
+
+"Why, it needs somebody it can lean on, and it needs somebody that can
+lean. I am a popular man," says he. "And if I can help the nation, I
+will be glad to do it; and if the nation can help me, I am willin'. The
+change from Jonesville to Washington will be agreeable and relaxin', and
+I lay out to try it."
+
+Says I, in sarkastick tones, "It is a pity you hain't got your free pass
+to go on:--you remember that incident, don't you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"What of it?" he snapped out. "What if I do?"
+
+"Wall, I thought then, that, when you got high-headed and haughty on any
+subject agin, mebby you would remember that pass, and be more modest and
+unassuming."
+
+He riz right up, and hollered at me,--
+
+"Throw that pass in my face, will you, at this time of year?"
+
+And he started for the barn, almost on the run.
+
+But I didn't care. I wus bound to break up this idee of hisen at once.
+If I hadn't been, I shouldn't have mentioned the free pass to him. For
+it is a subject so gaulin' to him, that I never allude to it only in
+cases of extreme danger and peril, or uncommon high-headedness.
+
+Now I have mentioned it, I don't know but it will be expected of me to
+tell about this pass of hisen. But, if I do, it mustn't go no further;
+for Josiah would be mad, mad as a hen, if he knew I told about it.
+
+I will relate the history in another epistol.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+This free pass of Josiah Allen's wus indeed a strange incident, and it
+made sights and sights of talk.
+
+But of course there wus considerable lyin' about it, as you know the way
+is. Why, it does beat all how stories will grow.
+
+Why, when I hear a story nowadays, I always allow a full half for
+shrinkage, and sometimes three-quarters; and a good many times that
+hain't enough. Such awful lyin' times! It duz beat all.
+
+But about this strange thing that took place and happened, I will
+proceed and relate the plain and unvarnished history of it. And what I
+set down in this epistol, you can depend upon. It is the plain truth,
+entirely unvarnished: not a mite of varnish will there be on it.
+
+A little over two years ago Josiah Allen, my companion, had a
+opportunity to buy a wood-lot cheap. It wus about a mild and a half from
+here, and one side of the lot run along by the side of the railroad. A
+Irishman had owned it previous and prior to this time, and had built a
+little shanty on it, and a pig-pen. But times got hard, the pig died,
+and owing to that, and other financikal difficulties, the Irishman had
+to sell the place, "ten acres more or less, runnin' up to a stake, and
+back again," as the law directs.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH'S WOOD-LOT.]
+
+Wall, he beset my companion Josiah to buy it; and as he had plenty of
+money in the Jonesville bank to pay for it, and the wood on our wood-lot
+wus gettin' pretty well thinned out, I didn't make no objection to the
+enterprize, but, on the other hand, I encouraged him in it. And so he
+made the bargain with him, the deed wus made out, the Irishman paid. And
+Josiah put a lot of wood-choppers in there to work; and they cut, and
+drawed the wood to Jonesville, and made money. Made more than enough the
+first six months to pay for the expenditure and outlay of money for the
+lot.
+
+He did well. And he calculated to do still better; for he said the place
+bein' so near Jonesville, he laid out, after he had got the wood off,
+and sold it, and kep' what he wanted, he calculated and laid out to sell
+the place for twice what he give for it. Josiah Allen hain't nobody's
+fool in a bargain, a good deal of the time he hain't. He knows how to
+make good calculations a good deal of the time. He thought somebody
+would want the place to build on.
+
+Wall, I asked him one day what he laid out to do with the shanty and
+the pig-pen that wus on it. The pig-pen wus right by the side of the
+railroad-track.
+
+And he said he laid out to tear 'em down, and draw the lumber home: he
+said the boards would come handy to use about the premises.
+
+Wall, I told him I thought that would be a good plan, or words to that
+effect. I can't remember the exact words I used, not expectin' that I
+would ever have to remember back, and lay 'em to heart. Which I should
+not had it not been for the strange and singular things that occurred
+and took place afterwards.
+
+Then I asked my companion, if I remember rightly, "When he laid out
+to draw the boards home?" For I mistrusted there would be some planks
+amongst 'em, and I wanted a couple to lay down from the back-door to the
+pump. The old ones wus gettin' all cracked up and broke in spots.
+
+And he said he should draw 'em up the first day he could spare the team.
+Wall, this wus along in the first week in April that we had this talk:
+warm and pleasant the weather wus, exceedingly so, for the time of year.
+And I proposed to him that we should have the children come home on the
+8th of April, which wus Thomas J.'s birthday, and have as nice a dinner
+as we could get, and buy a handsome present for him. And Josiah was very
+agreeable to the idee (for when did a man ever look scornfully on the
+idee of a good dinner?).
+
+And so the next day I went to work, and cooked up every thing I could
+think of that would be good. I made cakes of all kinds, and tarts, and
+jellys. And I wus goin' to have spring lamb and a chicken-pie (a layer
+of chicken, and a layer of oysters. I can make a chicken-pie that will
+melt in your mouth, though I am fur from bein' the one that ort to say
+it); and I wus goin' to have a baked fowl, and vegetables of all kinds,
+and every thing else I could think of that wus good. And I baked a large
+plum-cake a purpose for Whitfield, with "Our Son" on it in big red sugar
+letters, and the dates of his birth and the present date on each side of
+it.
+
+I do well by the children, Josiah says I do; and they see it now, the
+children do; they see it plainer every day, they say they do. They say,
+that since they have gone out into the world more, and seen more of the
+coldness and selfishness of the world, they appreciate more and more the
+faithful affection of her whose name wus once Smith.
+
+Yes, they like me better and better every year, they say they do.
+And they treat me pretty, dretful pretty. I don't want to be treated
+prettier by anybody than the children treat me.
+
+And their affectionate devotion pays me, it pays me richly, for all the
+care and anxiety they caused me. There hain't no paymaster like Love: he
+pays the best wages, and the most satisfyin', of anybody I ever see. But
+I am a eppisodin', and to resoom and continue on.
+
+Wall! the dinner passed off perfectly delightful and agreeable. The
+children and Josiah eat as if--Wall, suffice it to say, the way they eat
+wus a great compliment to the cook, and I took it so.
+
+Thomas J. wus highly delighted with his presents. I got him a nice white
+willow rockin'-chair, with red ribbons run all round the back, and bows
+of the same on top, and a red cushion,--a soft feather cushion that I
+made myself for it, covered with crimson rep (wool goods, very nice).
+Why, the cushion cost me above 60 cents, besides my work and the
+feathers.
+
+Josiah proposed to get him a acordeun, but I talked him out of that; and
+then he wanted to get him a bright blue necktie. But I perswaided him
+to give him a handsome china coffee cup and saucer, with "To My Son"
+painted on it; and I urged him to give him that, with ten new silver
+dollars in it. Says I, "He is all the son you have got, and a good son."
+And Josiah consented after a parlay. Why, the chair I give him cost
+about as much as that; and it wuzn't none too good, not at all.
+
+Wall, he had a lovely day. And what made it pleasanter, we had a
+prospect of havin' another jest as good. For in about 2 months' time it
+would be Tirzah's Ann's birthday; and we both told her, Josiah and me,
+both did, that she must get ready for jest another such a time. For we
+laid out to treat 'em both alike (which is both Christian and common
+sense). And we told 'em they must all be ready to come home that day,
+Providence and the weather permittin'.
+
+Wall, it wus so awful pleasant when the children got ready to go home,
+that Josiah proposed that he and me should go along to Jonesville with
+'em, and carry little Samantha Joe. And I wus very agreeable to the
+idee, bein' a little tired, and thinkin' such a ride would be both
+restful and refreshin'.
+
+And, oh! how beautiful every thing looked as we rode along! The sun wus
+goin' down in glory; and Jonesville layin' to the west of us, we seemed
+to be a ridin' along right into that glory--right towards them golden
+palaces, and towers of splendor, that riz up from the sea of gold. And
+behind them shinin' towers wus shadowy mountain ranges of softest color,
+that melted up into the tender blue of the April sky. And right in the
+east a full moon wuz sailin', lookin' down tenderly on Josiah and me and
+the babe--and Jonesville and the world. And the comet sot there up in
+the sky like a silent and shinin' mystery.
+
+The babe's eyes looked big and dreamy and thoughtful. She has got the
+beautifulest eyes, little Samantha Joe has. You can look down deep into
+'em, and see yourself in 'em; but, beyond yourself, what is it you can
+see? I can't tell, nor nobody. The ellusive, wonderful beauty that lays
+in the innocent baby eyes of little Samantha Joe. The sweet, fur-off
+look, as if she wus a lookin' right through this world into a fairer and
+more peaceful one.
+
+[Illustration: GOD'S COMMA.]
+
+And how smart they be, who can answer their questioning,--questionin'
+about every thing. Nobody can't--Josiah can't, nor I, nor nobody. Pretty
+soon she looked up at the comet; and says she, "Nama,"--she can't say
+grandma,--"Nama, is that God's comma?"
+
+Now, jest see how deep that wuz, and beautiful, very. The heavens wuz
+full of the writin' of God, writin' we can't read yet, and translate
+into our coarser language; and she, with her deep, beautiful eyes,
+a readin' it jest as plain as print, and puttin' in all the marks of
+punctuation. Readin' the marvellous poem of glory, with its tremblin'
+pause of flame.
+
+Josiah says, it is because she couldn't say comet; but I know better.
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, hain't it the same shape as a comma?"
+
+And he had to gin it up that it was. And in a minute or two she says
+agin,--
+
+"Nama, what is the comma up there for?"
+
+Now hear that, how deep that wuz. Who could answer that question? I
+couldn't, nor Josiah couldn't. Nor the wisest philosopher that
+ever walked the earth, not one of 'em. From them that kept their
+night-watches on the newly built pyramids, to the astronimers of to-day
+who are spending their lives in the study of the heavens. If every one
+of them learned men of the world, livin' and dead, if they all stood in
+rows in our door-yard in front of little Samantha Joe, they would have
+to bow their haughty heads before her, and put their finger on their
+lips. Them lips could say very large words in every language under the
+sun; but they couldn't answer my baby's question, not one of 'em.
+
+But I am eppisodin' fearfully, fearfully; and to resoom.
+
+We left the children and the babe safe in their respective housen', and
+happy; and we went on placidly to Jonesville, got our usual groceries,
+and stopped to the post-office. Josiah went into the office, and come
+out with his "World," and one letter, a big letter with a blue envelope.
+I thought it had a sort of a queer look, but I didn't say nothin'. And
+it bein' sort o' darkish, he didn't try to open it till we got home.
+Only I says,--
+
+"Who do you s'pose your letter is from, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "I don't know: the postmaster had a awful time a tryin' to
+make out who it was to. I should think, by his tell, it wus the dumbdest
+writin' that ever wus seen. I should think, by his tell, it went ahead
+of yourn."
+
+"Wall," says I, "there is no need of your swearin'." Says I, "If I wus
+a grandfather, Josiah Allen, I would choose my words with a little more
+decency, not to say morality."
+
+"Wall, wall! your writin' is enough to make a man sweat, and you know
+it."
+
+"I hadn't disputed it," says I with dignity. And havin' laid the blame
+of the bad writin' of the letter he had got, off onto his companion, as
+the way of male pardners is, he felt easy and comfortable in his mind,
+and talked agreeable all the way home, and affectionate, some.
+
+Wall, we got home; and I lit a light, and fixed the fire so it burnt
+bright and clear. And I drawed up a stand in front of the fire, with
+a bright crimson spread on it, for the lamp; and I put Josiah's
+rockin'-chair and mine, one on each side of it; and put Josiah's
+slippers in front of the hearth to warm. And then I took my
+knittin'-work, and went to knittin'; and by that time Josiah had got his
+barn-chores all done, and come in.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH READING THE LETTER.]
+
+And the very first thing he did after he come in, and drawed off his
+boots, and wondered "why under the gracious heavens it was, that the
+bootjack never could be found where he had left it" (which was right in
+the middle of the settin'-room floor). But he found it hangin' up in
+its usual place in the closet, only a coat had got hung up over it so he
+couldn't see it for half a minute.
+
+And after he had his warm slippers on, and got sot down in his
+easy-chair opposite to his beloved companion, he grew calmer again, and
+more placider, and drawed out that letter from his pocket.
+
+And I sot there a knittin', and a watchin' my companion's face at the
+same time; and I see that as he read the letter, he looked smut, and
+sort o' wonder-struck: and says I,--
+
+"Who is your letter from, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, lookin' up on top of it,--
+
+"It is from the headquarters of the Railroad Company;" and says he,
+lookin' close at it agin, "As near as I can make out, it is a free pass
+for me to ride on the railroad."
+
+Says I, "Why, that can't be, Josiah Allen. Why should they give you a
+free pass?"
+
+"I don't know," says he. "But I know it is one. The more I look at it,"
+says he, growin' excited over it,--"the more I look at it, the plainer I
+can see it. It is a free pass."
+
+Says I, "I don't believe it, Josiah Allen."
+
+"Wall, look at it for yourself, Samantha Allen" (when he is dretful
+excited, he always calls me Samantha Allen), "and see what it is, if it
+hain't that;" and he throwed it into my lap.
+
+[Illustration: COPY OF THE LETTER: FREE PASS.]
+
+I looked at it close and severe, but not one word could I make out, only
+I thought I could partly make out the word "remove," and along down
+the sheet the word "place," and there wus one word that did look like
+"free." And Josiah jumped at them words; and says he,--
+
+"It means, you know, the pass reads like this, for me to remove myself
+from place to place, free. Don't you see through it?" says he.
+
+"No," says I, holdin' the paper up to the light. "No, I don't see
+through it, far from it."
+
+"Wall," says he, highly excited and tickled, "I'll try it to-morrow,
+anyway. I'll see whether I am in the right, or not."
+
+And he went on dreamily, "Lemme see--I have got to move that lumber in
+the mornin' up from my wood-lot. But it won't take me more'n a couple of
+hours, or so, and in the afternoon I'll take a start."
+
+Says I, "What under the sun, Josiah Allen, should the Railroad Company
+give you a free pass for?"
+
+"Wall," says he, "I have my thoughts."
+
+He spoke in a dretful sort of a mysterious way, but proud; and I says,--
+
+"What do you think is the reason, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "It hain't always best to tell what you think. I hain't
+obleeged to," says he.
+
+And I says, "No. As the poet saith, nobody hain't obleeged to use common
+sense unless they have got it;" and I says, in a meanin' tone, "No, I
+can't obleege you to tell me."
+
+Wall, sure enough, the next day, jest as quick as he got that lumber
+drawed up to the house, Josiah Allen dressed up, and sot off for
+Jonesville, and come home at night as tickled a man as I ever see, if
+not tickleder.
+
+And he says, "Now what do you think, Samantha Allen? Now what do you
+think about my ridin' on that pass?"
+
+And I says, "Have you rode on it, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "Yes, mom, I have. I have rode to Loontown and back; and I
+might have gone ten times as fur, and not a word been said."
+
+And I says, "What did the conductor say?"
+
+And he says, "He didn't say nothin'. When he asked me for my fare, I
+told him I had a free pass, and I showed it to him. And he took it, and
+looked at it close, and took out his specks, and looked and looked at it
+for a number of minutes; and then he handed it back to me, and I put it
+into my pocket; and that wus all there was of it."
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING DUBERSOME.]
+
+Says I, "How did the conductor look when he was a readin' it?"
+
+And he owned up that he looked dubersome. But, says he, "I rode on it,
+and I told you that I could."
+
+"Wall," says I, sithin', "there is a great mystery about it."
+
+Says he, "There hain't no mystery to me."
+
+And then I beset him agin to tell me what he thought the reason wus they
+give it to him.
+
+And he said "he thought it was because he was so smart." Says he, "I am
+a dumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as
+plain as I wanted to." And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder
+every minute,--
+
+"I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car
+on the track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable and
+dressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose the
+railroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took the
+right way to do it. I shall speak well of 'em as long as I can ride
+free. And, oh! what solid comfort I shall take, Samantha, a ridin' on
+that pass! I calculate to see the world now. And there is nothin' under
+the sun to hender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of
+such a influential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you
+to go a mopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the
+future on my free pass."
+
+"No," says I. "I sha'n't ride off on a mystery. I prefer a mare."
+
+Says he, for he wus that proud and excited that you couldn't stop him
+nohow,--
+
+"It will be a dretful savin' of money, but that hain't what I think of
+the most. It is the honor they are a heapin' onto me. To think that they
+think so much of me, set such a store by me, and look up to me so, that
+they send me a free pass without my makin' a move to ask for it. Why, it
+shows plain, Samantha, that I am one of the first men of the age."
+
+And so he would go on from hour to hour, and from day to day; and I wus
+that dumbfoundered and wonderin' about it, that I couldn't for my life
+tell what to think of it. It worried me.
+
+But from that day Josiah Allen rode on that pass, every chance he got.
+Why, he went to the Ohio on it, on a visit to his first wive's sister;
+and he went to Michigan on it, and to the South, and everywhere he could
+think of. Why, he fairly hunted up relations on it, and I told him so.
+
+And after he got 'em hunted up, he'd take them onto that pass, and ride
+round with 'em on it.
+
+And he told every one of 'em, he told everybody, that he thought as much
+agin of the honor as he did of the money. It showed that he wus thought
+so much of, not only in Jonesville, but the world at large.
+
+Why, he took such solid comfort in it, that it did honestly seem as
+if he grew fat, he wus so puffed up by it, and proud. And some of the
+neighbors that he boasted so before, wus eat up with envy, and seemed
+mad to think he had come to such honor, and they hadn't. But the
+madder they acted, the tickleder he seemed, and more prouder, and
+high-headeder.
+
+But I could not feel so. I felt that there wus sunthin' strange and
+curius about it. And it wus very, very seldom that Josiah could get me
+to ride on it. Though I did take a few short journeys on it, to please
+him. But I felt sort o' uneasy while I was a ridin' on it, same as you
+feel when you are goin' up-hill with a heavy load and a little horse.
+You kinder stand on your feet, and lean forward, as if your bein'
+oncomfortable, and standin' up, helped the horse some.
+
+I had a good deal of that restless feelin', and oneasy. And as I told
+Josiah time and time again, "that for stiddy ridin' I preferred a mare
+to a mystery."
+
+Wall, it run along for a year; and Josiah said he s'posed he'd have to
+write on, and get the pass renewed. As near as he could make out, it
+run out about the 4th day of April. So he wrote down to the head one in
+New-York village; and the answer came back by return mail, and wrote in
+plain writin' so we could read it.
+
+It seemed there wus a mistake. It wuzn't a free pass, it wus a order for
+Josiah Allen to remove a pig-pen from his place on the railroad-track
+within three days.
+
+There it wuz, a order to remove a nuisence; and Josiah Allen had been a
+ridin' on it for a year, with pride in his mean, and haughtiness in his
+demeanor.
+
+Wall, I never see a man more mortified and cut up than Josiah Allen
+wuz. If he hadn't boasted so over its bein' gin to him on account of his
+bein' so smart and popular and etcetery, he wouldn't have felt so cut
+up. But as it was, it bowed down his bald head into the dust (allegory).
+
+But he didn't stay bowed down for any length of time: truly, men are
+constituted in such a way that mortification don't show on 'em for any
+length of time.
+
+But it made sights and sights of talk in Jonesville. The Jonesvillians
+made sights and sights of fun of him, poked fun at him, and snickered. I
+myself didn't say much: it hain't my way. I merely says this: says I,--
+
+"You thought you wus so awful popular, Josiah Allen, mebby you won't go
+round with so haughty a mean onto you right away."
+
+"Throw my mean in my face if you want to," says he. "But I guess," says
+he, "it will learn 'em another time to take a little more pains with
+their duck's tracks, dumb 'em!"
+
+Says I, "Stop instantly." And he knew what I meant, and stopped.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AND HIS RELATIONS ON THE PASS.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Josiah is as kind-hearted a man as was ever made. And he loves me with
+a devotion, that though hidden sometimes, like volcanic fires, and other
+married men's affections for their wives, yet it bursts out occasionally
+in spurts and jets of unexpected tenderness.
+
+Now, the very next mornin' after Cicely left for her aunt Mary's, he
+gave me a flaming proof of that hidden fire that burns but don't consume
+him.
+
+A agent come to our dwelling, and with the bland and amiable air of
+their sect, asked me,--
+
+"If I would buy a encyclopedia?"
+
+I was favorable to the idee, and showed it by my looks and words; but
+Josiah wus awful set against it. And the more favorable I talked about
+it, the more horrow-struck and skairt Josiah Allen looked. And finally
+he got behind the agent, and winked at me, and made motions for me to
+foller him into the buttery. He wunk several times before I paid much
+attention to 'em; but finally, the winks grew so violent, and the
+motions so imperious, yet clever, that I got up, and follered him into
+the buttery. He shet the door, and stood with his back against it; and
+says to me, with his voice fairly tremblin' with his emotions,--
+
+"It will throw you, Samantha! you don't want to buy it."
+
+"What will throw me? and when?" says I.
+
+"Why," says he, "you can't never ride it! How should I feel to see you
+on one of 'em! It skairs me most to death to see a boy ride 'em; and at
+your age, and with your rheumatiz, you'd get throwed, and get your neck
+broke, the first day." Says he, "If you have got to have something
+more stylish, and new-fangled than the old mair, I'd ruther buy you a
+philosopher. They are easier-going than a encyclopedia, anyway."
+
+"A philosopher?" says I dreamily.
+
+"Yes, such a one as Tom Gowdey has got."
+
+Says I, "You mean a velocipede!"
+
+"Yes, and I'll get you one ruther than have you a ridin' round the
+country on a encyclopedia."
+
+His tender thoughtfulness touched my heart, and I explained to him all
+about 'em. He thought it was some kind of a bycicle. And he brightened
+up, and didn't make no objections to my gettin' one.
+
+Wall, that very afternoon he went to Jonesville, and come home, as I
+said, all rousted up about bein' a senator. I s'pose Elburtus'es bein'
+there, and talkin' so much on politics, had kinder sot him to thinkin'
+on it. Anyway, he come home from Jonesville perfectly rampant with the
+idee of bein' United-States senator. "He said he had been approached on
+the subject."
+
+He said it in that sort of a haughty, high-headed way, such as men will
+sometimes assume when they think they have had some high honors heaped
+onto 'em.
+
+Says I, "Who has approached you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING APPROACHED.]
+
+"Wall," he said, "it might be a foreign minister, and it might be uncle
+Nate Gowdey." He thought it wouldn't be best to tell who it was. "But,"
+says he, "I am bound to be senator. Josiah Allen, M.C., will probable be
+wrote on my letters before another fall. I am bound to run."
+
+Says I coldly, "You know you can't run. You are as lame as you can be.
+You have got the rheumatiz the worst kind."
+
+Says he, "I mean runnin' with political legs--and I do want to be a
+senator, Samantha. I want to, like a dog, I want the money there is in
+it, and I want the honor. You know they have elected me path-master,
+but I hain't a goin' to accept it. I tell you, when anybody gets into
+political life, ambition rousts up in 'em: path-master don't satisfy
+me. I want to be senator: I want to, like a dog. And I don't lay out to
+tackle the job as Elburtus did, and act too good."
+
+"No!" says I sternly. "There hain't no danger of your bein' too good."
+
+"No: I have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. The relation on your
+side was too willin', and too clever. And witnessin' his campaign has
+learnt me some deep lessons. I watched the rocks he hit aginst; and I
+have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. I am going to act offish.
+I feel that offishness is my strong holt--and endearin' myself to the
+masses. Educatin' public sentiment up to lovin' me, and urgin' me not to
+be so offish, and to obleege 'em by takin' a office--them is my 2 strong
+holts. If I can only hang back, and act onwillin', and get the masses
+fierce to elect me--why, I'm made. And then, I've got a plan in my
+head."
+
+I groaned, in spite of myself.
+
+"I have got a plan in my head, that, if every other plan fails, will
+elect me in spite of the old Harry."
+
+Oh! how that oath grated against my nerve! And how I hung back from this
+idee! I am one that looks ahead. And I says in firm tones,--
+
+"You never would get the nomination, Josiah Allen! And if you did, you
+never would be elected."
+
+"Oh, yes, I should!" says he. But he continued dreamily, "There would
+have to be considerable wire-pullin'."
+
+"Where would the wires be?" says I sternly. "And who would pull 'em?"
+
+"Oh, most anywhere!" says he, lookin' dreamily up onto the kitchen
+ceilin', as if wires wus liable to be let down anywhere through the
+plasterin'.
+
+Says I, "Should you have to go to pullin' wires?"
+
+"Of course I should," says he.
+
+"Wall," says I, "you may as well make up your mind in the first ont,
+that I hain't goin' to give my consent to have you go into any thing
+dangerous. I hain't goin' to have you break your neck, at your age."
+
+Says he, "I don't know but my age is as good a age to break my neck in
+as any other. I never sot any particular age to break my neck in."
+
+"Make fun all you are a mind to of a anxious Samantha," says I, "but
+I will never give my consent to have you plunge into such dangerous
+enterprizes. And talkin' about pullin' wires sounds dangerous: it sounds
+like a circus, somehow; and how would _you_, with your back, look and
+feel performin' like a circus?"
+
+"Oh, you don't understand, Samantha! the wires hain't pulled in that
+way. You don't pull 'em with your hands, you pull 'em with your minds."
+
+"Oh, wall!" says I, brightenin' up. "You are all right in that case: you
+won't pull hard enough to hurt you any."
+
+I knew the size and strength of his mind, jest as well as if I had took
+it out of his head, and weighed it on the steelyards. It was _not_ over
+and above large. I knew it; and he knew that I knew it, because I have
+had to sometimes, in the cause of Right, remind him of it. But he knows
+that my love for him towers up like a dromedary, and moves off through
+life as stately as she duz--the dromedary. Josiah was my choice out of a
+world full of men. I love Josiah Allen. But to resoom and continue on.
+
+Josiah says, "Which side had I better go on, Samantha?" Says he, kinder
+puttin' his head on one side, and lookin' shrewdly up at the stove-pipe,
+"Would you run as a Stalwart, or a Half-breed?"
+
+Says I, "I guess you would run more like a lame hen than a Stalwart or
+a Half-breed; or," says I, "it would depend on what breeds they wuz. If
+they wus half snails, and half Times in the primers, maybe you could get
+ahead of 'em."
+
+"I should think, Samantha Allen, in such a time as this, you would act
+like a rational bein'. I'll be hanged if I know what side to go on to
+get elected!"
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, hain't you got any principle? Don't you _know_
+what side you are on?"
+
+"Why, yes, I s'pose I know as near as men in gineral. I'm a Democrat in
+times of peace. But it is human nater, to want to be on the side that
+beats."
+
+I sithed, and murmured instinctively, "George Washington!"
+
+"George Granny!" says he.
+
+I sithed agin, and kep' sithin'.
+
+Says I, "It is bad enough, Josiah Allen, to have you talk about runnin'
+for senator, and pullin' wires, and etcetery. But, oh, oh! my agony to
+think my partner is destitute of principle."
+
+"I have got as much as most political men, and you'll find it out so,
+Samantha."
+
+My groans touched his heart--that man loves me.
+
+"I am goin' to work as they all do. But wimmen hain't no heads for
+business, and I always said so. They don't look out for the profits of
+things, as men do."
+
+I didn't say nothin' only my sithes, but they spoke volumes to any one
+who understood their language. But anon, or mebby before,--I hadn't kep'
+any particular account of time, but I think it wus about anon,--when
+another thought struck me so, right in my breast, that it most knocked
+me over. It hanted me all the rest of that day: and all that night I lay
+awake and worried, and I'd sithe, and sposen the case; and then I'd turn
+over, and sposen the case, and sithe.
+
+Sposen he would be elected--I didn't really think he would, but
+I couldn't for my life help sposen. Sposen he would have to go to
+Washington. I knew strange things took place in politics. Strange men
+run, and run fur: some on 'em run clear to Washington. Mebby he would.
+Oh! how I groaned at the idee!
+
+I thought of the awfulness of that place as I had heard it described
+upon to me; and then I thought of the weakness of men, and their
+liability to be led astray. I thought of the powerful blasts of
+temptation that blowed through them broad streets, and the small size of
+my pardner, and the light weight of his bones and principles.
+
+And I felt, if things wuz as they had been depictered to me, he
+would (in a moral sense) be lifted right up, and blowed away--bones,
+principles, and all. And I trembled.
+
+At last the idee knocked so firm aginst the door of my heart, that I had
+to let it in. That I _must_, I _must_ go to Washington, as a forerunner
+of Josiah. I must go ahead of him, and look round, and see if my Josiah
+could pass through with no smell of fire on his overcoat--if there wuz
+any possibility of it. If there wuz, why, I should stand still, and let
+things take their course. But if my worst apprehensions wuz realized,
+if I see that it was a place where my pardner would lose all the modest
+worth and winnin' qualities that first endeared him to me--why, I would
+come home, and throw all my powerful influence and weight into the
+scales, and turn 'em round.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING BLOWN AWAY.]
+
+Of course, I felt that I should have to make some pretext about goin':
+for though I wus as innocent as a babe of wantin' to do so, I felt that
+he would think he wus bein' domineered over by me. Men are so sort o'
+high-headed and haughty about some things! But I felt I could make a
+pretext of George Washington. That dear old martyr! I felt truly I would
+love to weep upon his tomb.
+
+And so I told Josiah the next mornin', for I thought I would tackle the
+subject at once. And he says,--
+
+"What do you want to weep on his tomb for, Samantha, at this late day?"
+
+Says I, "The day of love and gratitude never fades into night, Josiah
+Allen: the sun of gratitude never goes down; it shines on that tomb
+to-day jest as bright as it did in 1800."
+
+"Wall, wall! go and weep on it if you want to. But I'll bet half a cent
+that you'll cry onto the ice-house, as I've heard of other wimmen's
+doin'. Wimmen don't see into things as men do."
+
+"You needn't worry, Josiah Allen. I shall cry at the right time, and in
+the right place. And I think I had better start soon on my tower."
+
+I always was one to tackle hard jobs immejutly and to once, so's to get
+'em offen' my mind.
+
+"Wall, I'd like to know," says he, in an injured tone, "what you
+calculate to do with me while you are gone?"
+
+"Why," says I, "I'll have the girl Ury is engaged to, come here and do
+the chores, and work for herself; they are goin' to be married before
+long: and I'll give her some rolls, and let her spin some yarn for
+herself. She'll be glad to come."
+
+"How long do you s'pose you'll be gone? She hain't no cook. I'd as lives
+eat rolls, as to eat her fried cakes."
+
+"Your pardner will fry up 2 pans full before she goes, Josiah; and I
+don't s'pose I'll be gone over four days."
+
+"Oh, well! then I guess I can stand it. But you had better make some
+mince-pies ahead, and other kinds of pies, and some fruit-cake, and
+cookies, and tarts, and things: it is always best to be on the safe
+side, in vittles."
+
+So it wus agreed on,--that I should fill two cubbard shelves full of
+provisions, to help him endure my absence.
+
+I wus some in hopes that he might give up the idee of bein'
+United-States senator, and I might have rest from my tower; for I
+dreaded, oh, how I dreaded, the job! But as day by day passed, he grew
+more and more rampant with the idee. He talked about it all the time
+daytimes; and in the night I could hear him murmur to himself,--
+
+"Hon. Josiah Allen!"
+
+And once I see it in his account-book, "Old Peedick debtor to two
+sap-buckets to Hon. Josiah Allen."
+
+And he talked sights, and sights, about what he wus goin' to do when
+he got to Washington, D.C.--what great things he wus goin' to do. And I
+would get wore out, and say to him,--
+
+"Wall! you will have to get there first."
+
+"Oh! you needn't worry. I can get there easy enough. I s'pose I shall
+have to work hard jest as they all do. But as I told you before,
+if every thing else fails, I have got a grand plan to fall back
+on--sunthin' new and uneek. Josiah Allen is nobody's fool, and the
+nation will find it out so."
+
+Then, oh, how I urged him to tell his plan to his lovin' pardner! but he
+_wouldn't tell_.
+
+But hours and hours would he spend, a tellin' me what great things he
+wus goin' to do when he got to Washington.
+
+Says he, "There is one thing about it. When I get to be United-States
+senator, uncle Nate Gowdey shall be promoted to some high and
+responsible place."
+
+"Without thinkin' whether he is fit for it or not?" says I.
+
+"Yes, mom, without thinkin' a thing about it. I am bound to help the
+ones that help me."
+
+"You wouldn't have him examined," says I,--"wouldn't have him asked no
+questions?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I'd have him pass a examination jest as the New-York aldermen
+do, or the civil-service men. I'd say to him, 'Be you uncle Nate
+Gowdey?'
+
+"'Yes.'
+
+"'How long have you been uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+
+"And he'd answer; and I'd say,--
+
+"'How long do you calculate to be uncle Nate?'
+
+"And he'll tell; and then I'll say,--
+
+"'Enough: I see you have all the qualifications for office. You are
+admitted.' That is what I would do."
+
+I groaned. But he kep' on complacently, "I am goin' to help the ones
+that elect me, sink or swim; and I calculate to make money out of the
+project,--money and honor. And I shall do a big work there,--there
+hain't no doubt of it.
+
+"Now, there is political economy. I shall go in strong for that. I shall
+say right to Congress, the first speech I make to it, I shall say, that
+there is too much money spent now to hire votes with; and I shall prove
+it right out, that we can get votes cheaper if we senators all join in
+together, and put our feet right down that we won't pay only jest so
+much for a vote. But as long as one man is willin' to pay high, why,
+everybody else has got to foller suit. And there hain't no economy in
+it, not a mite.
+
+"Then, there is the canal question. I'll make a thorough end of that.
+There is one reform that will be pushed right through."
+
+"How will you do it?" says I.
+
+"I will have the hull canal cleaned out from one end to the other."
+
+"I was readin' only yesterday," says I, "about the corruption of the
+canal question. But I didn't s'pose it meant that."
+
+"That is because you hain't a man. You hain't got the mind to grasp
+these big questions. The corruption of the canal means that the bottom
+of the canal is all covered with dead cats and things; and it ort to be
+seen to, by men that is capable of seein' to such things. It ort to be
+cleaned out. And I am the man that has got the mind for it," says he
+proudly.
+
+"Then, there is the Star Route. Nothin' but foolishness from beginnin'
+to end. They might have known they couldn't make any road through the
+stars. Why, the very Bible is agin it. The ground is good enough for me,
+and for any other solid man. It is some visionary chap that begun it in
+the first place. Nothin' but dumb foolishness; and so uncle Nate Gowdey
+said it was. We got to talkin' about it yesterday, and he said it was a
+pity wimmin couldn't vote on it. He said that would be jest about what
+they would be likely to vote for.
+
+"He is a smart old feller, uncle Nate is, for a man of his age. He
+talked awful smart about wimmin's votin'. He said any man was a fool to
+think that a woman would ever have the requisit grasp of intellect,
+and the knowledge of public affairs, that would render her a competent
+voter.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH's STAR ROUTE.]
+
+"I tell you, you have got to _understand_ things in order to tackle
+politicks. Politicks takes deep study.
+
+"Now, there is the tariff question, and the revenue. I shall most
+probable favor 'em, and push 'em right through."
+
+"How?" says I.
+
+"Oh, wall! a woman most probable couldn't understand it. But I shall
+push 'em forward all I can, and lift 'em up."
+
+"Where to?" says I.
+
+"Oh, keep a askin', and a naggin'! That is what wears out us public
+men,--wimmin's questionin'. It hain't so much the public duties we
+have to perform that ages us, and wears us out before our time,--it is
+woman's weak curiosity on public topics, that her mind is too feeble to
+grasp holt of. It is wearin'," says he haughtily.
+
+Says I, "Specially when they don't know what to answer." Says I, "Josiah
+Allen, you don't know this minute what tariff means, or revenue."
+
+"Wall, I know what starvation means, and I know what vittles means, and
+I know I am as hungry as a bear."
+
+Instinctively I hung on the teakettle. And as Josiah see me pare the
+potatoes, and grind the coffee, and pound the steak, he grew very
+pleasant again in his demeanor; and says he,--
+
+"There will be some abuses reformed when I get to Washington, D.C.;
+and you and the nation will see that there will. Now, there is the
+civil-service law: Uncle Nate and I wus a talkin' about it yesterday. It
+is jest what we need. Why, as uncle Nate said, hired men hain't civil at
+all, nor hired girls either. You hire 'em to serve you, and to serve you
+civil; and they are jest as dumb uppish and impudent as they can be. And
+hotel-clerks--now, they don't know what civil-service means."
+
+"Why, uncle Nate said when he went to the Ohio, last fall, he stayed
+over night to Cleveland, and the hotel-clerk sassed him, jest because he
+wanted to blow out his light: he wanted uncle Nate to turn it off.
+
+"And uncle Nate jest spoke right up, smart as a whip, and said,
+'Old-fashioned ways was good enough for him: blows wus made before
+turners, and he should blow it out.' And the hotel-clerk sassed him, and
+swore, and threatened to make him leave.
+
+"And ruther than have a fuss, uncle Nate said he turned it out. But it
+rankled, uncle Nate says it did, it rankled deep. And he says he wants
+to vote for that special. He says he'd love to make that clerk eat
+humble-pie.
+
+"Uncle Nate is a sound man: his head is level.
+
+"And good, sound platforms, that is another reform, uncle Nate said we
+needed the worst kind, and he hoped I would insist on it when I got to
+be senator. He said there was too much talk about 'em in the papers, and
+too little done about 'em. Why, Elam Gowdey, uncle Nate's youngest boy,
+broke down the platform to his barn, and went right down through it,
+with a load of hay. And nothin' but that hay saved his neck from bein'
+broke. It spilte one of his horses.
+
+"Uncle Nate had been urgin' him to fix the platform, or build a new one;
+but he was slack. But, as uncle Nate says, if such things are run by
+law, they will _have_ to be done.
+
+"And then, there is another thing uncle Nate and I was talkin'
+about," says he, lookin' very amiable at me as I rolled out my cream
+biscuit--almost spooney.
+
+[Illustration: UNCIVIL SERVICE.]
+
+"I shall jest run every poor Irishman and Chinaman out of the country
+that I can."
+
+"What has the Irishmen done, Josiah Allen?" says I.
+
+"Oh! they are poor. There hain't no use in our associatin' with the
+poor."
+
+Says I dreamily, "Did I not read once, of One who renounced the throne
+of the universe to dwell amongst the poor?"
+
+"Oh, wall! most probable they wuzn't Irish."
+
+"And what has the Chinaman done?" says I.
+
+"Why, they are heathens, Samantha. What does the United States want with
+heathens anyway? What the country _needs_ is Methodists."
+
+"Somewhere did I not once hear these words," says I musin'ly, as I
+set the coffee-cups on the table,--"'You shall have the heathen for an
+inheritance'--and 'preach the gospel to the heathen'--and 'we who were
+sometime heathens, but have received light'? Did not the echo of some
+such words once reach my mind?"
+
+"Oh, wall! if you are goin' to quote readin', why can't you quote from
+'The World'? you can't combine Bible and politics worth a cent. And the
+Chinaman works too cheap--are too industrious, and reasonable in their
+charges, they hain't extravagant--and they are too dumb peacible, dumb
+'em!"
+
+"Josiah Allen!" says I firmly, "is that all the fault you find with
+'em?"
+
+"No, it hain't. They don't want to vote! They don't care a cent about
+bein' path-master or President. And I say, that after givin' a man a
+fair trial and a long one, if he won't try to buy or sell a vote, it is
+a sure sign that he can't asimulate with Americans, and be one with 'em;
+that he can't never be mingled in with 'em peacible. And I'll bet that
+I'll start the Catholics out--and the Jews. What under the sun is the
+use of havin' anybody here in America only jest Methodists? That is the
+only right way. And if I have my way, I'll get rid of 'em,--Chinamen,
+Irishmen, Catholics,--the hull caboodle of 'em. I'll jest light 'em out
+of the country. We can do it too. That big statute in New-York Harbor
+of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, will jest lift her torch up high, and
+light 'em out of the country:--that is what we had her for."
+
+I sithed low, and says, "I never knew that wus what she wus there for.
+I s'posed it wus a gift from a land that helped us to liberty and
+prosperity when we needed 'em as bad as the Irishmen and Chinamen do
+to-day; and I s'posed that torch that wus lit for us by others' help, we
+should be willin' and glad to have it shine on the dark cross-roads of
+others."
+
+"Wall, it hain't meant for no such purpose: it is to light up _our_ land
+and _our_ waters. That's what _she's_ there for."
+
+I sithed agin, a sort of a cold sithe, and says,--
+
+"I don't think it looks very well for us New-Englanders a sittin' round
+Plymouth Rock, to be a condemnin' anybody for their religeous beliefs."
+
+"Wall, there hain't no need of whittlin' out a stick, and worshipin' it,
+as the Chinamen do."
+
+"How are you goin' to help 'em to worship the true God if you send 'em
+out of the country? Is it for the sake of humanity you drive 'em out?
+or be you, like the Isrealites of old, a worshipin' the golden calf of
+selfishness, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"I hain't never worshiped _no calf_, Samantha Allen. That would be the
+last thing _I_ would worship, and you know it."
+
+(Josiah wus very lame on his left leg where he had been kicked by a
+yearlin'. The spot wus black and blue, but healin'.)
+
+"You have blanketed that calf with thick patriotic excuses; but I fear,
+Josiah Allen, that the calf is there.
+
+"Oh!" says I dreamily, "how the tread of them calves has moved down
+through the centuries! If every calf should amble right out, marked with
+its own name and the name of its owner, what a sight, what a sight it
+would be! On one calf, right after its owner's name, would be branded,
+'Worldly Honor and Fame.'"
+
+Josiah squirmed, for I see him, but tried to turn the squirm in' into a
+sickly smile; and he murmured in a meachin' voice, and with a sheepish
+smile,--
+
+"'Hon. Josiah Allen. Fame.' That wouldn't look so bad on a likely
+yearlin' or two-year old."
+
+But I kep' right on. "On another would be marked, 'Wealth.' Very yeller
+those calves would be, and a long, long drove of 'em.
+
+"On another would be, 'Earthly Love.' Middlin' good-lookin' calves,
+these, and sights of 'em. But the mantillys that covered 'em would be
+all wet and wore with tears.
+
+"'Culture,' 'Intellect,' 'Refinement.' These calves would march right
+along by the side of 'Pride,' 'Vanity,' 'Old Creeds,' 'Bigotry,'
+'Selfishness.' The last-named would be too numerous to count with the
+naked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right through
+meetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why," says I, "the ground trembles
+under the tread of them calves. I can hear 'em whinner," says I, fillin'
+up the coffee-pot.
+
+"Calves don't whinner!" says Josiah.
+
+Says I, "I speak parabolickly;" and says I, in a very blind way,
+"Parables are used to fit the truth to weak comprehensions."
+
+"Wall!" says he, kinder cross, "your potatoes are a burnin' down."
+
+I turned the water off, and mashed 'em up, with plenty of cream and
+butter; and them, applied to his stomach internally, seemed to sooth
+him,--them, and the nice tender steak, and light biscuit, and lemon
+puddin' and coffee, rich and yellow and fragrant.
+
+[Illustration: THE GOLDEN CALVES OF CHRISTIANS.]
+
+He never said a word more about politics till after dinner. But on
+risin' up from the table he told me he had got to go to Jonesville to
+get the old mare shod. And I see sadly, as he stood to the lookin'-glass
+combin' out his few hairs, how every by-path his mind sot out on led up
+gradually to Washington, D.C. For as he stood there, and spoke of the
+mare's feet, he says,--
+
+"The mare is good enough for Jonesville, Samantha. But when we get
+to Washington, we want sunthin' gayer, more stylish, to ride on.
+I calculate," says he, pullin' up his collar, and pullin' down his
+vest,--"I lay out to dress gay, and act gay. I calculate to make a show
+for once in my life, and put on style. One thing I am bound on,--I shall
+drive tantrum."
+
+"How?" says I sternly.
+
+"Why, I shall buy another mare, most probable some gay-colored one, and
+hitch it before the old white mare, and drive tantrum. You know, it
+is all the style. Mebby," says he dreamily, "I shall ride the drag.
+I s'pose that is fashionable. But I'll be hanged if I should think
+it would be easy ridin' unless you had the teeth down. Dog-carts are
+stylish, I hear; but our dog is so dumb lazy, you couldn't get him to go
+out of a walk. But tantrum I _will_ drive."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH DRIVING TANTRUM.]
+
+I groaned, and says, "Yes, I hain't no doubt that anybody that sees you
+at Washington, will see tantrums, strange tantrums. But you hain't there
+yet."
+
+"No, but I most probable shall be ere long."
+
+He had actually begun to talk in high-flown, blank verse sort of a way.
+"Ere long!" that wus somethin' new for Josiah Allen.
+
+Alas! every thought of his heart wus tuned to that one political key.
+I mentioned to him that "the bobbin to my sewin'-machine was broke, and
+asked him to get a new one of the agent at Jonesville."
+
+"Yes," says he benignantly, "I will tend to your machine; and speakin'
+of machines, that makes me think of another thing uncle Nate and I wus
+talkin' about."
+
+"Machine politics, I sha'n't favor 'em. What under the sun do they want
+machines to make politics with, when there is plenty of men willin', and
+more than willin', to make 'em? And it is as expensive agin. Machines
+cost so much. I tell you, they cost tarnation high."
+
+"I can understand you without swearin', Josiah Allen."
+
+"I hain't a swearin': 'tarnation' hain't swearin', nor never wuz. I
+shall use that word most likely in Washington, D.C."
+
+"Wall," says I coldly, "there will have to be some tea and sugar got."
+
+He did not demur. But, oh! how I see that immovible setness of his mind!
+
+"Yes, I will get some. But won't it be handy, Samantha, to have free
+trade? I shall go for that strong. Why, I can tell you, it will come
+handy along in the winter when the hens don't lay, and we don't make
+butter to turn off--it will come dretful handy to jest hitch up the
+mare, and go to the store, and come home with a lot of groceries of all
+kinds, and some fresh meat mebby. And mebby some neckties of different
+colors."
+
+"Who would pay for 'em?" says I in a stern tone; for I didn't somehow
+like the idee.
+
+"Why, the Government, of course."
+
+I shook my head 2 or 3 times back and forth. I couldn't seem to get the
+right sense of it. "I can't understand it, Josiah. We heard a good deal
+about free trade, but I can't believe that is it."
+
+"Wall, it is, jest that. Free trade is one of the prerequisits of
+a senator. Why, what would a man want to be a senator for, if they
+couldn't make by it?"
+
+"Don't you love your country, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"Yes, I do: but I don't love her so well as I do myself; it hain't
+nateral I should."
+
+"Surely I read long ago,--was it in the English Reader?" says I
+dreamily, "or where was it? But surely I have heard of such things as
+patriotism and honor, love of country, and love of the right."
+
+"Wall, I calculate I love my country jest as well as the next man; and,"
+says he firmly, "I calculate I can make jest as much out of her, give me
+a chance. Why, I calculate to do jest as they all do. What is the use of
+startin' up, and bein' one by yourself?"
+
+Says I, "That is what Pilate thought, Josiah Allen." Says I, "The
+majority hain't always right." Says I firmly, "They hardly ever are."
+
+"Now, that is a regular woman's idee," says he, goin' into the bedroom
+for a clean shirt. And as he opened the bureau-draw, he says,--
+
+"Another thing I shall go for, is abolishin' lots of the bureaus. Why,
+what is the use of any man havin' more than one bureau? It is nothin'
+but nonsense clutterin' up the house with so many bureaus.
+
+"When wimmen get to votin'," says he sarcastickly, "I'll bet their first
+move will be to get 'em back agin. I'll bet there hain't a women in the
+land, but what would love to have 20 bureaus that they could run to."
+
+"Then, you think wimmen _will_ vote, do you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"I think," says he firmly, "that it will be a wretched day for the
+nation if she does. Wimmen is good in their places," says he, as he come
+to me to button up his shirtsleeves, and tie his cravat.
+
+"They are good in their places. But they can't have, it hain't in 'em to
+have, the calm grasp of mind, the deep outlook into the future, that men
+have. They can't weigh things in the firm, careful balences of right and
+wrong, and have that deep, masterly knowledge of national affairs that
+we men have. They hain't got the hard horse sense that anybody has got
+to have in order to make money out of the nation. They would have some
+sentimental subjects up of right or wrong to spend their energies and
+their hearts on. Look at Cicely, now. She means well. But what would she
+do? What would she make out of votin'? Not a cent. And she never would
+think of passin' laws for her own personal comfort, either. Now, there
+is the subsidy bill. I'll see that through if I sweat for it.
+
+"Why, it would be worth more than a dollar-bill to me lots of times to
+make folks subside. Preachers, now, when they get to goin' beyond the
+20ethly. No preacher has any right to go to wanderin' round up beyond
+them figures in dog-days. And if they could be made to subside when they
+had gone fur enough, why, it would be a perfect boon to Jonesville and
+the nation.
+
+"And sewin'-machine agents--and--and wimmen, when they get all excited a
+scoldin', or talkin' about bonnets, and things. Why! if a man could jest
+lift up his hand, and say 'Subside!' and then see 'em subside--why, I
+had ruther see it than a circus any day."
+
+[Illustration: A WOMAN'S PLACE.]
+
+I looked at him keenly, and says I,--
+
+"I wish such a bill had even now passed; that is, if wimmen could
+receive any benefit from it."
+
+"Wall, you'll see it after I get to Washington, D.C., most probable. I
+calculate to jest straighten out things there, and get public affairs in
+a good runnin' order. The nation _needs_ me."
+
+"Wall," says I, wore out, "it can _have you_, as fur as I am concerned."
+
+And I wus so completely fagged out, that I turned the subject completely
+round (as I s'posed) by askin' him if he laid out to sell our apples
+this year where he did last. The man's wife had wrote to me ahead, and
+wanted to know, for they had bought a new dryin'-machine, and wanted to
+make sure of apples ahead.
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, drawin' on his overshoes, "I shall probable have to
+use the apples this fall to buy votes with."
+
+"To buy votes?" says I, in accents of horrow.
+
+"Yes. I wouldn't tell it out of the family. But you are all in the
+family, you know, and so I'll tell you. I sha'n't have to buy near
+so many votes on account of my plan; but I shall have to buy some, of
+course. You know, they all do; and I sha'n't stand no chance at all if I
+don't."
+
+My groans was fearful that I groaned at this; but truly, worse was to
+come. He looked kinder pitiful at me (he loves me). But yet his love did
+not soften the firm resolve that wus spread thick over his linement as
+he went on,--
+
+"I lay out to get lots of votes with my green apples," says he dreamily.
+"It seems as if I ought to get a vote for a bushel of apples; but there
+is so much iniquity and cheatin' a goin' on now in politics, that I may
+have to give a bushel and a half, or two bushels: and then, I shall make
+up a lot of the smaller ones into hard cider, and use 'em to--to advance
+the interests of myself and the nation in that way.
+
+"There is hull loads of folks uncle Nate says he can bring to vote for
+me, by the judicious use of--wall, it hain't likely you will approve of
+it; but I say, stimulants are necessary in medicine, and any doctor will
+tell you so--hard cider and beer and whiskey, and so 4th."
+
+[Illustration: OUR LAW-MAKERS.]
+
+I riz right up, and grasped holt of his arm, and says in stern, avengin'
+tones,--
+
+"Josiah Allen, will you go right against God's commands, and put the cup
+to your neighbor's lips, for your own gain? Do you expect, if you do,
+that you can escape Heaven's avengin' wrath?"
+
+"They hain't my neighbors: I never neighbored with 'em."
+
+Says I sternly, "If you commit this sin, you will be held accountable;
+and it seems to me as if you can never be forgiven."
+
+"Dumb it all, Samantha, if everybody else does so, where will I get my
+votes?"
+
+"Go without 'em, Josiah Allen; go down to poverty, or the tomb, but
+never commit this sin. 'Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his
+neighbor's lips.'"
+
+"They hain't my neighbors, and it probable hain't no cup that they will
+drink out of: they will drink out of gobblers" (sometimes when Josiah
+gets excited, he calls goblets, gobblers). But I wus too wrought up and
+by the side of myself to notice it.
+
+Says I, "To think a human bein', to say nothin' of a perfessor, would go
+to work deliberate to get a man into a state that is jest as likely
+as not to end in a murder, or any crime, for gain to himself." Says I,
+"Think of the different crimes you commit by that one act, Josiah Allen.
+You make a man a fool, and in that way put yourself down on a level with
+disease, deformity, and hereditary sin. You steal his reason away. You
+are a thief of the deepest dye; for you steal then, from the man you
+have stole from--steal the first rights of his manhood, his honor,
+his patriotism, his duty to God and man. You are a thief of the
+Government--thief of God, and right.
+
+"Then, _you_ make this man liable to commit any crime: so, if he
+murders, _you_ are a murderer; if he commits suicide, _your_ guilty soul
+shall cower in the presence of Him who said, 'No self-murderer shall
+inherit eternal life.' It is your own doom you shall read in them
+dreadful words."
+
+"Good landy, Samantha! do you want to scare me to death?" and Josiah
+quailed and shook, and shook and quailed.
+
+"I am only tellin' you the truth, Josiah Allen; and I should think it
+_would_ scare anybody to death."
+
+"If I don't do it, I shall appear like a fool: I shall be one by
+myself."
+
+Oh, how Josiah duz want to be fashionable!
+
+"No, you won't, Josiah Allen--no, you won't. If you try to do right, try
+to do God's will, you have His armies to surround you with a unseen wall
+of Strength."
+
+"Why, I hain't seen you look so sort o' skairful and riz up, for years,
+Samantha."
+
+"I hain't felt so. To think of the brink you wuz a standin' on, and jest
+a fallin' off of."
+
+Josiah looked quite bad. And he put his hand on his side, and says, "My
+heart beats as if it wuz a tryin' to get out and walk round the room. I
+do believe I have got population of the heart."
+
+Says I, in a sarcasticker tone than I had used,--
+
+"That is a disease that is very common amongst men, very common, though
+they hain't over and above willin' to own up to it. Too much population
+of the heart has ailed many a man before now, and woman too," says I in
+reasonable axents. "But you mean palpitation."
+
+"Wall, I said so, didn't I? And it is jest your skairful talk that has
+done it."
+
+"Wall, if I thought I could convince men as I have you, I would foller
+the business stiddy, of skairin' folks, and think I wuz doin' my duty."
+Says I, my emotions a roustin' up agin,--
+
+"I should call it a good deal more honorable in you to get drunk
+yourself; and I should think more of you, if I see you a reelin' round
+yourself, than to see you make other folks reel. I should think it was
+your own reel, and you had more right to it than to anybody else's.
+
+"Oh! to think I should have lived to see the hour, to have my companion
+in danger of goin' aginst the Scripter--ready to steal, or be stole, or
+knock down, or any thing, to buy votes, or sell 'em!"
+
+"Wall, dumb it all, do you want me to appear as awkward as a fool? I
+have told you more than a dozen times I have _got_ to do as the rest do,
+if I want to make any show at all in politics."
+
+I said no more: but I riz right up, and walked out of the room, with my
+head right up in the air, and the strings of my head-dress a floatin'
+out behind me; and I'll bet there wus indignation in the float of them
+strings, and heart-ache, and agony, and--and every thing.
+
+I thought I had convinced him, and hadn't. I felt as if I must sink. You
+know, that is all a woman can do--to sink. She can't do any thing
+else in a helpful way when her beloved companion hangs over political
+abysses. She can't reach out her lovin' hand, and help stiddy him; she
+can't do nothin' only jest sink. And what made it more curious, these
+despairin' thoughts come to me as I stood by the sink, washin' my
+dinner-dishes. But anon (I know it wus jest anon, for the water wus
+bilein' hot when I turned it out of the kettle, and it scalded my hands,
+onbeknown to me, as I washed out my sass-plates) this thought gripped
+holt of me, right in front of the sink,--
+
+"Josiah Allen's wife, you must _not_ sink. You _must_ keep up. If you
+have no power to help your pardner to patriotism and honor, you can, if
+your worst fears are realized, try to keep him to home. For if his acts
+and words are like these in Jonesville, what will they be in Washington,
+D.C., if that place is all it has been depictered to you? Hold up,
+Samantha! Be firm, Josiah Allen's wife! John Rogers! The nine! One at
+the breast!"
+
+So at last, by these almost convulsive efforts at calmness, I grew more
+calmer and composeder. Josiah had hitched up and gone.
+
+And he come home clever, and all excited with a new thing.
+
+They are buildin' a new court-house at Jonesville. It is most done,
+and it seemed they got into a dispute that day about the cupelow. They
+wanted to have the figger of Liberty sculped out on it; and they had got
+the man there all ready, and he had begun to sculp her as a woman,--the
+goddess of Liberty, he called her. But at the last minute a dispute
+had rosen: some of the leadin' minds of Jonesville, uncle Nate Gowdey
+amongst 'em, insisted on it that Liberty wuzn't a woman, he wuz a man.
+And they wanted him depictered as a man, with whiskers and pantaloons
+and a standin' collar, and boots and spurs--Josiah Allen wus the one
+that wanted the spurs.
+
+He said the dispute waxed furious; and he says to 'em,--
+
+"Leave it to Samantha: she'll know all about it."
+
+And so it was agreed on that they'd leave it to me. And he drove the
+old mare home, almost beyond her strength, he wus so anxious to have it
+settled.
+
+I wus jest makin' some cream biscuit for supper as he come in, and asked
+me about it; and a minute is a minute in makin' warm biscuit. You want
+to make 'em quick, and bake 'em quick. My mind wus fairly held onto
+that dough--and needed on it; but instinctively I told him he wus in the
+right ont. Liberty here in the United States wuz a man, and, in order
+to be consistent, ort to be depictered with whiskers and overcoat and a
+standin' collar.
+
+"And spurs!" says Josiah.
+
+"Wall," I told him, "I wouldn't be particular about the spurs." I said,
+"Instead of the spurs on his boots, he might be depictered as settin'
+his boot-heel onto the respectful petition of fifty thousand wimmen, who
+had ventured to ask him for a little mite of what he wus s'posed to have
+quantities of--Freedom.
+
+"Or," says I, "he might be depictered as settin' on a judgment-seat, and
+wavin' off into prison an intelligent Christian woman, who had spent her
+whole noble, useful life in studyin' the laws of our nation, for darin'
+to think she had as much right under our Constitution, as a low, totally
+ignorant coot who would most likely think the franchise wus some sort of
+a meat-stew."
+
+Says I, "That will give Liberty jest as imperious and showy a look as
+spurs would, and be fur more historick and symbolical."
+
+Wall, he said he would mention it to 'em; and says he, with a contented
+look,--
+
+"I told uncle Nate I knew I wus right. I knew Liberty wus a man."
+
+Wall, I didn't say no more: and I got him as good a supper as the house
+afforded, and kep' still as death on politics; fur I could not help
+havin' some hopes that he might get sick of the idee of public life. And
+I kep' him down close all that evenin' to religion and the weather.
+
+[Illustration: JONESVILLE COURTHOUSE.]
+
+But, alas! my hopes wus doomed to fade away. And, as days passed by, I
+see the thought of bein' a senator wus ever before him. The cares and
+burdens of political life seemed to be a loomin' up in front of him,
+and in a quiet way he seemed to be fittin' himself for the duties of his
+position.
+
+He come in one day with Solomon Cypher'ses shovel, and I asked him "what
+it wuz?"
+
+And he said "it wus the spoils of office."
+
+And I says, "It is no such thing: it is Solomon Cypher'ses shovel."
+
+"Wall," says he, "I found it out by the fence. Solomon has gone over to
+the other party. I am a Democrat, and this is party spoils. I am goin'
+to keep this as one of the spoils of office."
+
+Says I firmly, "You won't keep it!"
+
+"Why," says he, "if I am goin' to enter political life, I must begin
+to practise sometime. I must begin to do as they all do. And it is a
+crackin' good shovel too," says he pensively.
+
+Says I, "You are goin' to carry that shovel right straight home, Josiah
+Allen!"
+
+And I made him.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+But I see in this and in many kindred things, that he wuz a dwellin' on
+this thought of political life--its honors and emollients. And often,
+and in dark hints, he would speak of his _Plan_. If every other means
+failed, if he couldn't spare the money to buy enough votes, how his
+_plan_ wus goin' to be the makin' of him.
+
+And I overheard him tellin' the babe once, as he wus rockin' her to
+sleep in the kitchen, "how her grandpa had got up somethin' that no
+other babe's grandpa had ever thought of, and how she would probable see
+him in the White House ere long."
+
+I wus makin' nut-cakes in the buttery; and I shuddered so at these
+words, that I got in most as much agin lemon as I wanted in 'em. I wus
+a droppin' it into a spoon, and it run over, I wus that shook at the
+thought of his plan.
+
+I had known his plans in the past, and had hefted 'em. And I truly
+felt that his plans wus liable any time to be the death of him, and the
+ruination.
+
+But he wouldn't tell!
+
+But kep' his mind immovibly sot, as I could see. And the very day of the
+shovel episode, along towards night he rousted out of a brown study,--a
+sort of a dark-brown study,--and says he,--
+
+"Yes, I shall make out enough votes if we have a judicious committee."
+
+"A lyin' one, do you mean?" says I coldly. But not surprized. For truly,
+my mind had been so strained and racked that I don't know as it would
+have surprized me if Josiah Allen had riz up, and knocked me down.
+
+"Wall, in politics, you _have_ to add a few orts sometimes."
+
+I sithed, not a wonderin' sithe, but a despairin' one; and he went on,--
+
+"I know where I shall get a hull lot of votes, anyway."
+
+"Where?" says I.
+
+"Why, out to that nigger settlement jest the other side of Jonesville."
+
+"How do you know they'll vote for you?" says I.
+
+"I'd like to see 'em vote aginst me!" says he, in a skairful way.
+
+"Would you use intimidation, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"Why, uncle Nate Gowdey and I, and a few others who love quiet, and
+love to see folks do as they ort to, lay out to take some shot-guns and
+_make_ them niggers vote right; make 'em vote for me; shoot 'em right
+down if they don't. We have got the campaign all planned out."
+
+"Josiah Allen," says I, "if you have no fear of Heaven, have you no fear
+of the Government? Do you want to be hung, and see your widow a breakin'
+her heart over your gallowses?"
+
+"Oh! I shouldn't get hung. The Government wouldn't do nothin'. The
+Government feels jest as I do,--that it would be wrong to stir up old
+bitternesses, and race differences. The bloody shirt has been washed,
+and ironed out; and it wouldn't be right to dirty it up agin. The
+colored race is now at peace; and if they will only do right, do jest as
+the white men wants 'em to, Government won't never interfere with 'em."
+
+I groaned, and couldn't help it; and he says,--
+
+"Why, hang it all, Samantha, if I make any show at all in public life, I
+have got to begin to practise sometime."
+
+"Wall," says I, "bring me in a pail of water." But as he went out after
+it, I murmured sternly to myself,--
+
+"Oh! wus there ever a forerunner more needed run?" and my soul answered,
+"Never! never!"
+
+[Illustration: MAKING THEM DO RIGHT.]
+
+So with sithes that could hardly be sithed, so big and hefty wuz they, I
+commenced to make preparations for embarkin' on my tower. And no martyr
+that ever sot down on a hot gridiron wus animated by a more warm and
+martyrous feelin' of self-sacrifice. Yes, I truly felt, that if there
+wus dangers to be faced, and daggers run through pardners, I felt I
+would ruther they would pierce my own spare-ribs than Josiah's. (I say
+spare-ribs for oritory--my ribs are not spare, fur from it.)
+
+I didn't really believe, if he run, he would run clear to Washington.
+And yet, when my mind roamed on some public men, and how fur they run, I
+would groan, and hurry up my preparations.
+
+I knew my tower must be but a short one, for sugarin'-time wus
+approachin' with rapid strides, and Samantha must be at the hellum. But
+I also knew, that with a determined mind, and a willin' heart,
+great things could be accomplished speedily; so I commenced makin'
+preparations, and layin' on plans.
+
+As become a woman of my cast-iron principles, I fixed up mostly on
+the inside of my head instead of the outside. I studied the map of the
+United States. I done several sums on the slate, to harden my mind, and
+help me grasp great facts, and meet difficulties bravely. I read Gass'es
+"Journal,"--how he rode up our great rivers on a perioger, and shot
+bears. Expectin', as I did, to see trouble, I read over agin that
+book that has been my stay in so many hard-fit battle-fields of
+principle,--Fox'es "Book of Martyrs."
+
+I studied G. Washington's picture on the parlor-wall, to get kinder
+stirred up in my mind about him, so's to realize to the full my
+privileges as I wept onto his tomb, and stood in the capital he had
+foundered.
+
+Thomas J. come one day while I wus musin' on George; and he says,--
+
+"What are you lookin' so close at that dear old humbug for?"
+
+Says I firmly, and keepin' the same posture, "I am studyin' the face of
+the revered and noble G. Washington. I am going shortly to weep on his
+tomb and the capital he foundered. I am studyin' his face, and Gass'es
+'Journal,' and other works," says I.
+
+"If you are going to the capital, you had better study Dante."
+
+Says I, "Danty who?"
+
+And he says, "Just plain Dante." Says he, "You had better study his
+inscription on the door of the infern"--
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly. You are on the very pint of swearin';" and I
+don't know now what he meant, and don't much care. Thomas J. is full of
+queer remarks, anyway. But deep. He had a sick spell a few weeks ago;
+and I went to see him the first thing in the mornin', after I heard of
+it. He had overworked, the doctor said, and his heart wuz a little weak.
+He looked real white; and I took holt of his hand, and says I,--
+
+"Thomas J., I am worried about you: your pulse don't beat hardly any."
+
+"No," says he. And he laughed with his eyes and his lips too. "I am glad
+I am not a newspaper this morning, mother."
+
+And I says, "Why?"
+
+And he says, "If I were a morning paper, mother, I shouldn't be a
+success, my circulation is so weak."
+
+A jokin' right there, when he couldn't lift his head. But he got over
+it: he always did have them sort of sick spells, from a little child.
+
+But a manlier, good-hearteder, level-headeder boy never lived than
+Thomas Jefferson Allen. He is _just right_, and always wuz. And though I
+wouldn't have it get out for the world, I can't help seein' it, that he
+goes fur ahead of Tirzah Ann in intellect, and nobleness of nater; and
+though I love 'em both devotedly, I _do_, and I can't help it, like him
+jest a little mite the best. But _this_ I wouldn't have get out for a
+thousand dollars. I tell it in strict confidence, and s'pose it will
+be kep' as such. Mebby I hadn't ort to tell it at all. Mebby it hain't
+quite orthodox in me to feel so. But it is truthful, anyway. And
+sometimes I get to kinder wobblin' round inside of my mind, and a
+wonderin' which is the best,--to be orthodox, or truthful,--and I sort
+o' settle down to thinkin' I will tell the truth anyway.
+
+Josiah, I think, likes Tirzah Ann the best.
+
+But I studied deep, and mused. Mused on our 4 fathers, and our 4
+mothers, and on Liberty, and Independence, and Truth, and the Eagle. And
+thinkin' I might jest as well be to work while I was a musin', I had a
+dress made for the occasion. It wus bran new, and the color wus Bismark
+Brown.
+
+Josiah wanted me to have Ashes of Moses color.
+
+But I said no. With my mind in the heroic state it was then, I couldn't
+curb it down onto Ashes of Moses, or roses, or any thing else peacible.
+I felt that this color, remindin' me of two grand heroes,--Bismark, John
+Brown,--suited me to a T. There wus two wimmen who stood ready to make
+it,--Jane Bently and Martha Snyder. I chose Martha because Martha wus
+the name of the wife of Washington.
+
+It wus made with a bask.
+
+When the news got out that I wus goin' to Washington on a tower, the
+neighbors all wanted to send errents by me.
+
+Betsey Bobbet wanted me to go to the Patent Office, and get her two
+Patent-office books, for scrap-books for poetry.
+
+Uncle Jarvis Bently wanted me to go to the Agricultural Bureau, and get
+him a paper of lettis seed. And Solomon Cypher wanted me to get him a
+new kind of string-beans, if I could, and some cowcumber seeds.
+
+Uncle Nate Gowdey, who talked of paintin' his house over, wanted me to
+ask the President what kind of paint he used on the White House, and if
+he put in any sperits of turpentime. And Ardelia Rumsey, who wuz goin'
+to be married soon, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bed-quilt
+patterns to the White House, or to the senators' housen, to get the
+patterns for her. She said she wus sick of sunflowers, and blazin'
+stars, and such. She thought mebby they'd have suthin' new, spread-eagle
+style, or suthin' of that kind. She said "her feller was goin' to be
+connected with the Government, and she thought it would be appropriate."
+
+And I asked her "how?" And she said, "he was goin' to get a patent on a
+new kind of a jack-knife."
+
+I told her "if she wanted a Government quilt, and wanted it appropriate,
+she ort to have it a crazy-quilt."
+
+And she said she had jest finished a crazy-quilt, with seven thousand
+pieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitches
+of feather stitchin': she counted 'em. And then I remembered seein' it.
+There wus some talk then about wimmen's rights, and a petition wus got
+up in Jonesville for wimmen to sign; and I remember well that Ardelia
+couldn't sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn't got the
+quilt more'n half done then. It took the biggest heft of two years to
+do it. And so, of course, less important things had to be put aside till
+she got it finished.
+
+And I remember, too, that Ardelia's mother wanted to sign it; but she
+couldn't, owin' to a bed-spread she wus a makin'. She wuz a quiltin' in
+Noah's ark, and all the animals, at that time, on a Turkey-red quilt.
+I remember she wuz a quiltin' the camel that day, and couldn't be
+disturbed. So we didn't get the names. It took the old lady three years
+to quilt that quilt. And when it wuz done, it wuz a sight to behold.
+Though, as I said then, and say now, I wouldn't give much to sleep
+under so many animals. But folks went from fur and near to see it, and
+I enjoyed lookin' at it that day. And I see jest how it wuz. I see that
+she couldn't sign. It wuzn't to be expected that a woman could stop to
+tend to Justice or Freedom, or any thing else of that kind, right in the
+midst of a camel.
+
+Zebulin Coon wanted me to carry a new hen-coop of hisen to get it
+patented. And I thought to myself, I wonder if they'll ask me to carry a
+cow.
+
+And sure enough, Josiah wanted me to dicker, if I could, for a calf
+from Mount Vernon,--swop one of our yearlin's for it if I couldn't do no
+better.
+
+But I told him right out and out, that I couldn't go into a calf-trade
+with my mind wrought up as I knew it would be.
+
+Wall, it wuzn't more'n 2 or 3 days after I begun my preparations, that
+Dorlesky Burpy, a vegetable widow, come to see me; and the errents
+she sent by me wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest put
+together, calves, hen-coop, and all.
+
+[Illustration: THE MOTHER'S BED-QUILT.]
+
+And when she told 'em over to me, and I meditated on her reasons for
+sendin' 'em, and her need of havin' 'em done, I felt that I would do
+the errents for her if a breath was left in my body. I felt that I
+would bear them 2 errents of hern on my tower side by side with my own
+private, hefty mission for Josiah.
+
+She come for a all day's visit; and though she is a vegetable widow, and
+very humbly, I wuz middlin' glad to see her. But thinks'es I to myself
+as I carried away her things into the bedroom, "She'll want to send some
+errent by me;" and I wondered what it wouldn't be.
+
+And so it didn't surprise me any when she asked me the first thing when
+I got back "if I would lobby a little for her in Washington."
+
+And I looked agreeable to the idee; for I s'posed it wuz some new kind
+of tattin', mebby, or fancy work. And I told her "I shouldn't have much
+time, but I would try to buy her some if I could."
+
+And she said "she wanted me to lobby, myself."
+
+And then I thought mebby it wus some new kind of waltz; and I told her
+"I was too old to lobby, I hadn't lobbied a step since I was married."
+
+And then she said "she wanted me to canvass some of the senators."
+
+And I hung back, and asked her in a cautius tone "how many she wanted
+canvassed, and how much canvass it would take?"
+
+I knew I had a good many things to buy for my tower; and, though I
+wanted to obleege Dorlesky, I didn't feel like runnin' into any great
+expense for canvass.
+
+And then she broke off from that subject, and said "she wanted her
+rights, and wanted the Whiskey Ring broke up."
+
+And then she says, going back to the old subject agin, "I hear that
+Josiah Allen has political hopes: can I canvass him?"
+
+And I says, "Yes, you can for all me." But I mentioned cautiously, for I
+believe in bein' straightforward, and not holdin' out no false hopes,--I
+said "she must furnish her own canvass, for I hadn't a mite in the
+house."
+
+But Josiah didn't get home till after her folks come after her. So he
+wuzn't canvassed.
+
+But she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to be
+parted from 'em, and how much she used to think of her husband, and how
+her hull life wus ruined, and how the Whiskey Ring had done it,--that,
+and wimmen's helpless condition under the law. And she cried, and wept,
+and cried about her children, and her sufferin's she had suffered; and
+I did. I cried onto my apron, and couldn't help it. A new apron too. And
+right while I wus cryin' onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to
+carry them two errents of hern to the President, and to get 'em done for
+her if I possibly could.
+
+"She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed, and she wanted her rights; and
+she wanted 'em both in less than 2 weeks."
+
+I wiped my eyes off, and told her I didn't believe she could get 'em
+done in that length of time, but I would tell the President about it,
+and "I thought more'n as likely as not he would want to do right by
+her." And says I, "If he sets out to, he can haul them babys of yourn
+out of that Ring pretty sudden."
+
+And then, to kinder get her mind off of her sufferin's, I asked her
+how her sister Susan wus a gettin' along. I hadn't heard from her for
+years--she married Philemon Clapsaddle; and Dorlesky spoke out as bitter
+as a bitter walnut--a green one. And says she,--
+
+"She is in the poorhouse."
+
+"Why, Dorlesky Burpy!" says I. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean what I say. My sister, Susan Clapsaddle, is in the poorhouse."
+
+"Why, where is their property all gone?" says I. "They was well
+off--Susan had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him."
+
+"I know it," says she. "And I can tell you, Josiah Allen's wife, where
+their property is gone. It has gone down Philemon Clapsaddle's throat.
+Look down that man's throat, and you will see 150 acres of land, a good
+house and barns, 20 sheep, and 40 head of cattle."
+
+"Why-ee!" says I.
+
+"Yes, you will see 'em all down that man's throat." And says she,
+in still more bitter axents, "You will see four mules, and a span of
+horses, two buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo-robes. He
+has drinked 'em all up--and 2 horse-rakes, a cultivator, and a
+thrashin'-machine.
+
+"Why! Why-ee!" says I agin. "And where are the children?"
+
+"The boys have inherited their father's evil habits, and drink as bad as
+he duz; and the oldest girl has gone to the bad."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear me!" says I. And we both sot silent for a spell.
+And then, thinkin' I must say sunthin', and wantin' to strike a safe
+subject, and a good-lookin' one, I says,--
+
+"Where is your aunt Eunice'es girl? that pretty girl I see to your house
+once."
+
+"That girl is in the lunatick asylum."
+
+"Dorlesky Burpy!" says I. "Be you a tellin' the truth?"
+
+"Yes, I be, the livin' truth. She went to New York to buy millinary
+goods for her mother's store. It wus quite cool when she left home, and
+she hadn't took off her winter clothes: and it come on brilin' hot in
+the city; and in goin' about from store to store, the heat and the hard
+work overcome her, and she fell down in the street in a sort of a
+faintin'-fit, and was called drunk, and dragged off to a police court by
+a man who wus a animal in human shape. And he misused her in such a way,
+that she never got over the horror of what befell her--when she come to,
+to find herself at the mercy of a brute in a man's shape. She went into
+a melancholy madness, and wus sent to the asylum. Of course they
+couldn't have wimmen in such places to take care of wimmen," says she
+bitterly.
+
+I sithed a long and mournful sithe, and sot silent agin for quite a
+spell. But thinkin' I _must_ be sociable, I says,--
+
+"Your aunt Eunice is well, I s'pose?"
+
+"She is a moulderin' in jail," says she.
+
+"In jail? Eunice Keeler in jail?"
+
+"Yes, in jail." And Dorlesky's tone wus now like wormwood, wormwood and
+gall.
+
+"You know, she owns a big property in tenement-houses, and other
+buildings, where she lives. Of course her taxes wus awful high; and she
+didn't expect to have any voice in tellin' how that money, a part of her
+own property, that she earned herself in a store, should be used.
+
+[Illustration: MAN LIFTING UP EUNICE.]
+
+"But she had jest been taxed high for new sidewalks in front of some of
+her buildin's.
+
+"And then another man come into power in that ward, and he natrully
+wanted to make some money out of her; and he had a spite aginst her,
+too, so he ordered her to build new sidewalks. And she wouldn't tear up
+a good sidewalk to please him or anybody else, so she was put to jail
+for refusin' to comply with the law."
+
+Thinks'es I to myself, I don't believe the law would have been so hard
+on her if she hadn't been so humbly. The Burpys are a humbly lot. But I
+didn't think it out loud. And I didn't uphold the law for feelin' so, if
+it did. No: I says in pityin' tones,--for I wus truly sorry for Eunice
+Keeler,--
+
+"How did it end?"
+
+"It hain't ended," says she. "It only took place a month ago; and she
+has got her grit up, and won't pay: and no knowin' how it will end. She
+lays there a moulderin'."
+
+I myself don't believe Eunice wus "mouldy;" but that is Dorlesky's way
+of talkin',--very flowery.
+
+[Illustration: EUNICE IN JAIL.]
+
+"Wall," says I, "do you think the weather is goin' to moderate?"
+
+I truly felt that I dassent speak to her about any human bein' under the
+sun, not knowin' what turn she would give to the conversation, bein' so
+embittered. But I felt the weather wus safe, and cotton stockin's, and
+factory-cloth; and I kep' her down onto them subjects for more'n two
+hours.
+
+But, good land! I can't blame her for bein' embittered aginst men and
+the laws they have made; for, if ever a woman has been tormented, she
+has.
+
+It honestly seems to me as if I never see a human creeter so afflicted
+as Dorlesky Burpy has been, all her life.
+
+Why, her sufferin's date back before she wus born; and that is goin'
+pretty fur back. You see, her father and mother had had some difficulty:
+and he wus took down with billious colic voyolent four weeks before
+Dorlesky wus born; and some think it wus the hardness between 'em, and
+some think it wus the gripin' of the colic at the time he made his will;
+anyway, he willed Dorlesky away, boy or girl, whichever it wuz, to his
+brother up on the Canada line.
+
+So, when Dorlesky wus born (and born a girl, entirely onbeknown to her),
+she wus took right away from her mother, and gin to this brother. Her
+mother couldn't help herself: he had the law on his side. But it jest
+killed her. She drooped right away and died, before the baby wus a year
+old. She was a affectionate, tenderhearted woman; and her husband wus
+kinder overbearin', and stern always.
+
+But it wus this last move of hisen that killed her; for I tell you, it
+is pretty tough on a mother to have her baby, a part of her own life,
+took right out of her arms, and gin to a stranger.
+
+For this uncle of hern wus a entire stranger to Dorlesky when the will
+wus made. And almost like a stranger to her father, for he hadn't seen
+him sence he wus a boy; but he knew he hadn't any children, and s'posed
+he wus rich and respectable. But the truth wuz, he had been a runnin'
+down every way,--had lost his property and his character, wus dissipated
+and mean (onbeknown, it wus s'posed, to Dorlesky's father). But the will
+was made, and the law stood. Men are ashamed now, to think the law wus
+ever in voge; but it wuz, and is now in some of the States. The law wus
+in voge, and the poor young mother couldn't help herself. It has always
+been the boast of our American law, that it takes care of wimmen. It
+took care of her. It held her in its strong, protectin' grasp, and held
+her so tight, that the only way she could slip out of it wus to drop
+into the grave, which she did in a few months. Then it leggo.
+
+But it kep' holt of Dorlesky: it bound her tight to her uncle, while he
+run through with what little property she had; while he sunk lower and
+lower, until at last he needed the very necessaries of life; and then
+he bound her out to work, to a woman who kep' a drinkin'-den, and the
+lowest, most degraded hant of vice.
+
+Twice Dorlesky run away, bein' virtuous but humbly; but them strong,
+protectin' arms of the law that had held her mother so tight, jest
+reached out, and dragged her back agin. Upheld by them, her uncle could
+compel her to give her service wherever he wanted her to work; and he
+wus owin' this woman, and she wanted Dorlesky's work, so she had to
+submit.
+
+But the 3d time, she made a effort so voyalent that she got away. A good
+woman, who, bein' nothin' but a woman, couldn't do any thing towards
+onclinchin' them powerful arms that wuz protectin' her, helped her to
+slip through 'em. And Dorlesky come to Jonesville to live with a sister
+of that good woman; changed her name, so's it wouldn't be so easy to
+find her; grew up to be a nice, industrious girl. And when the woman she
+was took by, died, she left Dorlesky quite a handsome property.
+
+And finally she married Lank Rumsey, and did considerable well, it
+was s'posed. Her property, put with what little he had, made 'em a
+comfortable home; and they had two pretty little children,--a boy and
+a girl. But when the little girl was a baby, he took to drinkin',
+neglected his business, got mixed up with a whisky-ring, whipped
+Dorlesky--not so very hard. He went accordin' to law; and the law of
+the United States don't approve of a man whippin' his wife enough to
+endanger her life--it says it don't. He made every move of hisen lawful,
+and felt that Dorlesky hadn't ort to complain and feel hurt. But a good
+whippin' will make anybody feel hurt, law or no law. And then he parted
+with her, and got her property and her two little children. Why, it
+seemed as if every thing under the sun and moon, that _could_ happen to
+a woman, had happened to Dorlesky, painful things, and gaulin'.
+
+Jest before Lank parted with her, she fell on a broken sidewalk: some
+think he tripped her up, but it never was proved. But, anyway, Dorlesky
+fell, and broke her hip bone; and her husband sued the corporation, and
+got ten thousand dollars for it. Of course, the law give the money to
+him, and she never got a cent of it. But she wouldn't never have made
+any fuss over that, knowin' that the law of the United States was such.
+But what made it gaulin' to her wuz, that, while she was layin' there
+achin' in splints, he took that very money and used it to court up
+another woman with. Gin her presents, jewellry, bunnets, head-dresses,
+artificial flowers, and etcetery, out of Dorlesky's own hip-money.
+
+[Illustration: DORLESKY'S TRIALS.]
+
+And I don't know as any thing could be much more gaulin' to a woman than
+that wuz,--while she lay there, groanin' in splints, to have her husband
+take the money for her own broken bones, and dress up another woman like
+a doll with it.
+
+But the law gin it to him; and he was only availin' himself of the
+glorious liberty of our free republic, and doin' as he was a mind to.
+
+And it was s'posed that that very hip-money was what made the match.
+For, before she wus fairly out of splints, he got a divorce from her.
+And by the help of that money, and the Whisky Ring, he got her two
+little children away from her.
+
+And I wonder if there is a mother in the land, that can blame Dorlesky
+for gettin' mad, and wantin' her rights, and wantin' the Whisky Ring
+broke up, when they think it over,--how she has been fooled round with
+by men, willed away, and whipped and parted with and stole from. Why,
+they can't blame her for feelin' fairly savage about 'em--and she duz.
+For as she says to me once when we wus a talkin' it over, how every
+thing had happened to her that could happen to a woman, and how curious
+it wuz,--
+
+"Yes," says she, with a axent like boneset and vinegar,--"and what few
+things there are that hain't happened to me, has happened to my folks."
+
+And, sure enough, I couldn't dispute her. Trouble and wrongs and
+sufferin's seemed to be epidemic in the race of Burpy wimmen. Why, one
+of her aunts on her father's side, Patty Burpy, married for her first
+husband Eliphalet Perkins. He was a minister, rode on a circuit. And he
+took Patty on it too; and she rode round with him on it, a good deal of
+the time. But she never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still,
+and be kinder settled down at home.
+
+But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him:
+so she rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly
+fagged out.
+
+He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they had
+hard times to get along. But what property they had wuzn't taxed, so
+that helped some; and Patty would make one doller go a good ways.
+
+No, their property wasn't taxed till Eliphalet died. Then the supervisor
+taxed it the very minute the breath left his body; run his horse, so it
+was said, so's to be sure to get it onto the tax-list, and comply with
+the law.
+
+You see, Eliphalet's salary stopped when his breath did. And I s'pose
+mebby the law thought, seem' she was a havin' trouble, she might jest as
+well have a little more; so it taxed all the property it never had taxed
+a cent for before.
+
+But she had this to console her anyway,--that the law didn't forget her
+in her widowhood. No: the law is quite thoughtful of wimmen, by spells.
+It says, the law duz, that it protects wimmen. And I s'pose in some
+mysterious way, too deep for wimmen to understand, it was protectin' her
+now.
+
+Wall, she suffered along, and finally married agin. I wondered why she
+did. But she was such a quiet, home-lovin' woman, that it was s'posed
+she wanted to settle down, and be kinder still and sot. But of all the
+bad luck she had! She married on short acquaintance, and he proved to be
+a perfect wanderer. Why, he couldn't keep still. It was s'posed to be a
+mark.
+
+He moved Patty thirteen times in two years; and at last he took her into
+a cart,--a sort of a covered wagon,--and travelled right through the
+Eastern States with her. He wanted to see the country, and loved to
+live in the wagon: it was his make. And, of course, the law give him the
+control of her body; and she had to go where he moved it, or else part
+with him. And I s'pose the law thought it was guardin' and nourishin'
+her when it was a joltin' her over them praries and mountains and
+abysses. But it jest kep' her shook up the hull of the time.
+
+It wus the regular Burpy luck.
+
+[Illustration: PATTY AND HUSBAND TRAVELLING IN THE FAR WEST.]
+
+And then, another one of her aunts, Drusilla Burpy, she married a
+industrius, hard-workin' man,--one that never drinked a drop, and was
+sound on the doctrines, and give good measure to his customers: he was
+a grocer-man. And a master hand for wantin' to foller the laws of his
+country, as tight as laws could be follered. And so, knowin' that the
+law approved of "moderate correction" for wimmen, and that "a man might
+whip his wife, but not enough to endanger her life," he bein' such a
+master hand for wantin' to do every thing faithful, and do his very best
+for his customers, it was s'posed that he wanted to do his best for the
+law; and so, when he got to whippin' Drusilla, he would whip her _too_
+severe--he would be _too_ faithful to it.
+
+You see, the way ont was, what made him whip her at all wuz, she was
+cross to him. They had nine little children. She always thought that two
+or three children would be about all one woman could bring up well "by
+hand," when that one hand wuz so awful full of work, as will be told
+more ensuin'ly. But he felt that big families wuz a protection to the
+Government; and "he wanted fourteen boys," he said, so they could all
+foller their father's footsteps, and be noble, law-making, law-abiding
+citizens, jest as he was.
+
+But she had to do every mite of the housework, and milk cows, and make
+butter and cheese, and cook and wash and scour, and take all the care
+of the children, day and night, in sickness and in health, and spin and
+weave the cloth for their clothes (as wimmen did in them days), and then
+make 'em, and keep 'em clean. And when there wuz so many of 'em, and
+only about a year's difference in their ages, some of 'em--why, I s'pose
+she sometimes thought more of her own achin' back than she did of the
+good of the Government; and she would get kinder discouraged sometimes,
+and be cross to him.
+
+And knowin' his own motives was so high and loyal, he felt that he ought
+to whip her. So he did.
+
+And what shows that Drusilla wuzn't so bad as he s'posed she wuz, what
+shows that she did have her good streaks, and a deep reverence for the
+law, is, that she stood his whippin's first-rate, and never whipped him.
+
+Now, she wuz fur bigger than he wuz, weighed 80 pounds the most, and
+might have whipped him if the law had been such.
+
+[Illustration: BEATING HIS WIFE.]
+
+But they was both law-abidin', and wanted to keep every preamble; so she
+stood it to be whipped, and never once whipped him in all the seventeen
+years they lived together.
+
+She died when her twelfth child was born: there wus jest 13 months
+difference in the age of that and the one next older. And they said she
+often spoke out in her last sickness, and said,--
+
+"Thank fortune, I have always kept the law."
+
+And they said the same thought wus a great comfort to him in his last
+moments.
+
+He died about a year after she did, leaving his 2nd wife with twins and
+a good property.
+
+Then, there was Abagail Burpy. She married a sort of a high-headed
+man, though one that paid his debts, and was truthful, and considerable
+good-lookin', and played well on the fiddle. Why, it seemed as if he had
+almost every qualification for makin' a woman happy, only he had jest
+this one little excentricity,--that man would lock up Abagail Burpy's
+clothes every time he got mad at her.
+
+Of course the law give her clothes to him; and knowin' it was one of the
+laws of the United States, she wouldn't have complained only when she
+had company. But it was mortifyin', and nobody could dispute it, to have
+company come, and nothin' to put on.
+
+Several times she had to withdraw into the wood-house, and stay most
+of the day, shiverin', and under the cellar-stairs, and round in
+clothes-presses.
+
+But he boasted in prayer-meetin's, and on boxes before grocery-stores,
+that he wus a law-abidin' citizen; and he wuz. Eben Flanders wouldn't
+lie for anybody.
+
+But I'll bet that Abagail Flanders beat our old Revolutionary 4 mothers
+in thinkin' out new laws, when she lay round under stairs, and behind
+barrells, in her nightdress.
+
+You see, when a man hides his wive's corset and petticoat, it is
+governin' without the "consent of the governed." And if you don't
+believe it, you ort to have peeked round them barrells, and seen
+Abagail's eyes. Why, they had hull reams of by-laws in 'em, and
+preambles, and "declarations of independence." So I have been told.
+
+Why, it beat every thing I ever heard on, the lawful sufferin's of them
+wimmen. For there wuzn't nothin' illegal about one single trouble of
+theirn. They suffered accordin' to law, every one of 'em. But it wus
+tuff for 'em--very tuff.
+
+And their all bein' so dretful humbly wuz and is another drawback to
+'em; though that, too, is perfectly lawful, as everybody knows.
+
+And Dorlesky looks as bad agin as she would otherways, on account of her
+teeth.
+
+It wus after Lank had begun to kinder get after this other woman, and
+wus indifferent to his wive's looks, that Dorlesky had a new set of
+teeth on her upper jaw. And they sort o' sot out, and made her look so
+bad that it fairly made her ache to look at herself in the glass. And
+they hurt her gooms too. And she carried 'em back to the dentist, and
+wanted him to make her another set.
+
+But the dentist acted mean, and wouldn't take 'em back, and sued Lank
+for the pay. And they had a lawsuit. And the law bein' such that a
+woman can't testify in court in any matter that is of mutual interest
+to husband and wife--and Lank wantin' to act mean, too, testified that
+"they wus good sound teeth."
+
+And there Dorlesky sot right in front of 'em with her gooms achin', and
+her face all pokin' out, and lookin' like furyation, and couldn't say a
+word. But she had to give in to the law.
+
+And ruther than go toothless, she wears 'em to this day. And I do
+believe it is the raspin' of them teeth aginst her gooms, and her
+discouraged and mad feelin's every time she looks in a glass, that helps
+to embitter her towards men, and the laws men have made, so's a woman
+can't have the control over her own teeth and her own bones.
+
+Wall, Dorlesky went home about 4 P.M., I a promisin' at the last minute
+as sacred as I could, without usin' a book, to do her errents for her.
+
+I urged her to stay to supper, but she couldn't; for she said the man
+where she worked was usin' his horses, and couldn't come after her agin.
+And she said that--
+
+"Mercy on her! how could anybody eat any more supper after such a dinner
+as I had got?"
+
+And it wuzn't nothin' extra, I didn't think. No better than my common
+run of dinners.
+
+Wall, she hadn't been gone over an hour (she a hollerin' from the wagon,
+a chargin' on me solemn, about the errents,--the man she works for is
+deef, deef as a post,--and I a noddin' to her firm, honorable nods, that
+I would do 'em), and I wus a slickin' up the settin'-room, and Martha,
+who had jest come in, wus measurin' off my skirt-breadths, when Josiah
+Allen drove up, and Cicely and the boy with him.
+
+And there I had been a layin' out to write to her that very night to
+tell her I wus goin' away, and to be sure and come jest as quick as I
+got back!
+
+Wall, I never see the time I wuzn't glad to see Cicely, and I felt that
+she could visit to Tirzah Ann's and Thomas J.'s while I wus gone. She
+looked dretful pale and sad, I thought; but she seemed glad to see
+me, and glad to get back. And the boy asked Josiah and Ury and me 47
+questions between the wagon and the front doorstep, for I counted 'em.
+He wus well.
+
+I broached the subject of my tower to Cicely when she and I wus all
+alone in her room. And, if you'll believe it, she all rousted up with
+the idee of wantin' to go too.
+
+She says, "You know, aunt Samantha, just how I have prayed and labored
+for my boy's future; how I have made all the efforts that it is possible
+for a woman to make; how I have thrown my heart and life into the
+work,--but I have done no good. That letter," says she, takin' one out
+of her pocket, and throwin' it into my lap,--"that letter tells me just
+what I knew so well before,--just how weak a woman is; that they have no
+power, only the power to suffer."
+
+It wus from that old executor, refusin' to comply with some request she
+had made about her own property,--a request of right and truth.
+
+Oh, how glad I would have been to had him execkuted that very minute!
+Why, I'd done it myself if wimmen could execkit--but they can't.
+
+Says she, "I'll go with you to Washington,--I and the boy. Perhaps I can
+do something for him there." But when she mentioned the boy, I demurred
+in my own mind, and kep' a demurrin'. Thinks'es I, how can I stand it,
+as tired as I expect to be, to have him a askin' questions all the hull
+time? She see I was a demurrin'; and her pretty face grew sadder than it
+had, and overcasteder.
+
+And as I see that, I gin in at once, and says with a cheerful face, but
+a forebodin' mind,--
+
+"Wall, Cicely, we three will embark together on our tower."
+
+Wall, after supper Cicely and I sot down under the front stoop,--it
+was a warm evenin',--and we talked some about other wimmen. Not runnin'
+talk, or gossipin' talk, but jest plain talk, about her aunt Mary, and
+her aunt Melissa, and her aunt Mary's daughter, who wus a runnin' down,
+runnin' faster than ever, so I judged from what she said. And how Susan
+Ann Grimshaw that was, had a young babe. She said her aunt Mary was
+better now, so she had started for the Michigan; but she had had a
+dretful sick spell while she was there.
+
+While she wuz a tellin' me this, Cicely sot on one of the steps of the
+stoop: I sot up under it in my rockin'-chair. And she looked dretful
+good to me. She had on a white dress. She most always wears white in the
+house, when we hain't got company; and always wears black when she is
+dressed up, and when she goes out.
+
+This dress was made of white mull. The yoke wus made all of thin
+embroidery, and her white neck and shoulders shone through it like snow.
+Her sleeves was all trimmed with lace, and fell back from her pretty
+white arms. Her hands wus clasped over her knees; and her hair, which
+the boy had got loose a playin' with her, wus fallin' round her face
+and neck. And her great, earnest eyes wus lookin' into the West, and the
+light from the sunset fallin' through the mornin'-glorys wus a fallin'
+over her, till I declare, I never see any thing look so pretty in my
+hull life. And there was some thin' more, fur more than prettiness in
+her face, in her big eyes.
+
+It wuzn't unhappiness, and it wuzn't happiness, and I don't know as I
+can tell what it wuz. It seemed as if she wuz a lookin' fur, fur
+away, further than Jonesville, further than the lake that lay beyend
+Jonesville, and which was pure gold now,--a sea of glass mingled with
+fire,--further than the cloudy masses in the western heavens, which
+looked like a city of shinin' mansions, fur off; but her eyes was
+lookin' away off, beyend them.
+
+And I kep' still, and didn't feel like talkin' about other wimmen.
+
+Finally she spoke out. "Aunt Samantha, what do you suppose I thought
+when dear aunt Mary was so ill when I was there?"
+
+And I says, "I don't know, dear: what did you?"
+
+"Well, I thought, that, though I loved her so dearly, I almost wished
+she would die while I was there."
+
+"Why, Cicely!" says I. "Why-ee! what did you wish that for? and thinkin'
+so much of your aunt as you do."
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING BEYEND THE SUNSET.]
+
+"Well, you know how mother and aunt Mary loved each other, how near they
+were to each other. Why, mother could always tell when aunt Mary was
+ill or in trouble, and she was just the same in regard to mother. And I
+can't think that when death has freed the soul from the flesh, that they
+will have less spiritual knowledge of each other than when they were
+here; and I felt, that with such a love as theirs, death would only make
+their souls nearer: and you know what the Bible says,--that 'God shall
+make of his angels ministering spirits;' and I _know_ He would send
+no other angel but my mother, to dear aunt Mary's bedside, to take her
+spirit home. And I thought, that, if I were there, my mother would be
+there right in the room with me; and I didn't know but I might _feel_
+her presence if I could not see her. And I _do_ want my mother so
+sometimes, aunt Samantha," says she with the tears comin' into them
+soft brown eyes. "It seems as if she would tell me what to do for the
+boy--she always knew what was right and best to do."
+
+Says I to myself, "For the land's sake, what won't Cicely think on
+next?" But I didn't say a word, mind you, not a single word would I say
+to hurt that child's feelin's--not for a silver dollar, I wouldn't.
+
+I only says, in calm accents,--
+
+"Don't for mercy's sake, child, talk of seein' your mother now."
+
+She looked far off into the shinin' western heavens with that deep,
+searchin', but soft gaze,--seemin' to look clear through them cloudy
+mansions of rose and pearl,--and says she,--
+
+"If I were good enough, I think I could."
+
+And I says, "Cicely, you are goin' to take cold, with nothin' round your
+shoulders." Says I, "The weather is very ketchin', and it looks to me as
+if we wus goin' to have quite a spell of it."
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 75 questions about ketchin' the
+weather.
+
+"If the weather set a trap? If it ketched with bait, or with a hook, and
+what it ketched? and how? and who?"
+
+Oh my stars! what a time I did have!
+
+The next mornin' after this Cicely wuzn't well enough to get up. I
+carried up her breakfast with my own hands,--a good one, though I am fur
+from bein' the one that ort to say it.
+
+And after breakfast, along in the forenoon, Martha, who was makin'
+my dress, felt troubled in mind as to whether she had better cut the
+polenay kitrin' ways of the cloth, or not: and Miss Gowdey had jest had
+one made in the height of the fashion, to Jonesville; and so to ease
+Martha's mind (she is one that gets deprested easy, when weighty
+subjects are pressin' her down), I said I would run over cross-lots, and
+carry home a drawin' of tea I had borrowed, and look at the polenay, and
+bring back tidin's from it. And I wus goin' there acrost the orchard,
+when I see the boy a layin' on his back under a apple-tree, lookin' up
+into the sky; and says I,--
+
+"What be you doin' here, Paul?"
+
+He never got up, nor moved a mite. That is one of the peculiarities of
+the boy, you can't surprise him: nothin' seems to startle him.
+
+He lay still, and spoke out for all the world as if I had been there
+with him all day.
+
+"I am lookin' to see if I can see it. I thought I got a glimpse of it a
+minute ago, but it wus only a white cloud."
+
+"Lookin' for what?" says I.
+
+"The gate of that City that comes down out of the heavens. You know,
+uncle Josiah read about it this morning, out of that big book he prays
+out of after breakfast. He said the gate was one pearl.
+
+"And I asked mamma what a pearl was, and she said it was just like that
+ring she wears that papa gave her. And I asked her where the City was,
+and she said it was up in the heavens. And I asked her if I should ever
+see it; and she said, if I was good, it would swing down out of the sky,
+sometime, and that shining gate would open, and I should walk through it
+into the City.
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING FOR THE CITY.]
+
+"And I went right to being good, that minute; and I have been good for
+as many as three hours, I should think. And _say_, how long have you got
+to be good before you can go through? And _say_, can you see it before
+you go through? And SAY"--
+
+But I had got most out of hearin' then.
+
+"And _say_"--
+
+I heard his last "say" just as I got out of hearin' of him.
+
+He acted kinder disappointed at dinner-time, and said "he wus tired of
+watchin', and tired out of bein' good;" and he wus considerable cross
+all that afternoon. But he got clever agin before bedtime. And he come
+and leaned up aginst my lap at sundown, and asked me, I guess, about 200
+questions about the City.
+
+And his eyes looked big and dreamy and soft, and his cheeks looked rosy,
+and his mouth awful good and sweet. And his curls wus kinder moist, and
+hung down over his white forehead. I _did_ love him, and couldn't help
+it, chin or no chin.
+
+He had been still for quite a spell, a thinkin'; and at last he broke
+out,--
+
+"Say, auntie, shall I see my father there in the City?"
+
+And I didn't know what to tell him; for you know what it says,--
+
+"_Without_ are murderers."
+
+[Illustration: ASKING ABOUT THE CITY.]
+
+But then, agin, I thought, what will become of the respectable church
+members who sell the fire that flames up in a man's soul, and ruins his
+life? What will become of them who lend their votes and their influence
+to make it right? They vote on Saturdays, to make the sale of this
+poison legal, and on Sundays go to church with their respectable
+families. And they expect to go right to heaven, of course; for they
+have improved all the means of grace. Hired costly pews, and give big
+charities--in money obtained by sellin' robberies, murders, broken
+hearts, ruined lives.
+
+But the boy wanted an answer; and his eyes looked questioning but soft.
+
+"Say, auntie, do you think we'll find him there, mamma and I? You know,
+that is what mamma cries so for,--she wants him so bad. And do you think
+he will stand just inside the gate, waiting for us? _Say!_"
+
+But agin I thought of what it said,--
+
+"No drunkard shall inherit eternal life."
+
+And agin I didn't know what to say, and I hurried him off to bed.
+
+But, after he had gone, I spoke out entirely unbeknown to myself, and
+says,--
+
+"I can't see through it."
+
+"You can't see through what?" says Josiah, who wus jest a comin' in.
+
+"I can't see through it, why drunkards and murderers are punished, and
+them that make 'em drink and murder go free. I can't see through it."
+
+"Wall, I don't see how you can see through any thing here--dark as
+pitch." Here he fell over a stool, which made him madder.
+
+"Folks make fools of themselves, a follerin' up that subject." Here he
+stubbed his foot aginst the rockin'-chair, and most fell, and snapped
+out enough to take my head off,--
+
+"The dumb fools will get so before long, that a man can't drink milk
+porridge without their prayin' over him."
+
+Says I, "Be calm! stand right still in the middle of the floor, Josiah
+Allen, and I'll light a lamp," which I did; and he sot down cleverer,
+though he says,--
+
+"You want to take away all the rights of a man. Liquor is good for
+sickness, and you know it. You go onto extremes, you go too fur."
+
+Says I calmly, "Do you s'pose, at this late hour, I am goin' to stop
+bein' mejum? No! mejum have I lived, and mejum will I die. I believe
+liquor is good for medicine: if I should say I didn't, I should be a
+lyin', which I am fur from wantin' to do at my age. I think it kep'
+mother Allen alive for years, jest as I believe arsenic broke up Bildad
+Smith's chills. And I s'pose folks have jest as good a right to use it
+for the benefit of their health, as to use any other pizen, or fire, or
+any thing.
+
+"And it should be used jest like pizen and fire and etcetery. You don't
+want to eat pizen for a treat, or pass it round amongst your friends.
+You don't want to play with fire for fun, or burn yourself up with it.
+You don't want to use it to confligrate yourself or anybody else.
+
+"So with liquor. You don't want to drink liquor to kill yourself with,
+or to kill other folks. You don't want to inebriate with it. If I had my
+way, Josiah Allen," says I firmly, "the hull liquor-trade should be
+in the hands of doctors, who wouldn't sell a drop without knowin'
+_positive_ that it wus _needed_ for sickness, or the aged and infirm.
+Good, honest doctors who couldn't be bought nor sold."
+
+"Where would you find 'em?" says Josiah in a gruff tone (I mistrust his
+toe pained him).
+
+Says I thoughtfully, "Surely there is one good, reliable man left in
+every town--that could be found."
+
+"I don't know about it," says he, sort o' musin'ly. "I am gettin' pretty
+old to begin it, but I don't know but I might get to be a doctor now."
+
+Says he, brightenin' up, "It can't take much study to deal out a dose of
+salts now and then, or count anybody's pult."
+
+But says I firmly, "Give up that idee at once, Josiah Allen. I have
+come out alive, out of all your other plans and progects, and I hain't a
+goin' to be killed now at my age, by you as a doctor."
+
+My tone wus so powerful, and even skairful, that he gin up the idee, and
+wound up the clock, and went to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Cicely wus some better the next day. And two days before we sot sail for
+Washington, Philury Mesick, the girl Ury was payin' attention to, and
+who was goin' to keep my house durin' my absence on my tower, come with
+a small, a very small trunk, ornimented with brass nails.
+
+Poor little thing! I wus always sorry for her, she is so little, and so
+freckled, and so awful willin' to do jest as anybody wants her to. She
+is a girl that Miss Solomon Gowdey kinder took. And I think, if there
+is any condition that is hard, it is to be "kinder took." Why, if I was
+took at all, I should want to be "_took_."
+
+But Miss Gowdey took Philury jest enough not to pay her any regular
+wages, and didn't take her enough so Philury could collect any pay from
+her when she left. She left, because there wus a hardness between 'em,
+on account of a grindstun. Philury said Miss Gowdey's little boy broke
+the grindstun, and the boy laid it to Philury. Anyway, the grindstun wus
+broke, and it made a hardness. And when Philury left Miss Gowdey's, all
+her worldly wealth wuz held in that poor, pitiful lookin' trunk. Why,
+the trunk looked like Philury, and Philury looked like the trunk. It
+looked small, and meek, and well disposed; and the brass nails looked
+some like frecks, only larger.
+
+Wall, I felt sorry for her: and I s'posed, that, married or single, she
+would have to wear stockin's; so I told her, that, besides her wages,
+she might have all the lamb's-wool yarn she wanted to spin while I was
+gone, after doin' the house-work.
+
+She wus tickled enough as I told her.
+
+"Why," says she, "I can spin enough to last me for years and years."
+
+"Wall," says I, "so much the better. I have mistrusted," says I, "that
+Miss Gowdey wouldn't do much for you on account of that hardness about
+the grindstun; and knowin' that you hain't got no mother, I have laid
+out to do middlin' well by you and Ury when you get married."
+
+And she blushed, and said "she expected to marry Ury sometime--years and
+years hence."
+
+"Wall," says I, "you can spin the yarn anyway."
+
+Philury is a real handy little thing about the house. And so willin' and
+clever, that I guess, if I had asked her to jump into the oven, and bake
+herself, she would have done it. And so I told Josiah.
+
+[Illustration: PHILURY.]
+
+And he said "he thought a little more bakin' wouldn't hurt her." Says
+he, "She is pretty soft."
+
+And says I, "Soft or not, she's good. And that is more than I can say
+for some folks, who _think_ they know a little more."
+
+I will stand up for my sect.
+
+Wall, in three days' time we sot sail for Washington, D.C., I a feelin'
+well about Josiah. For Philury and Ury wus clever, and would do well by
+him. And the cubbard wus full and overflowin' with every thing good to
+eat. And I felt that I had indeed, in that cubbard, left him a consoler.
+
+Josiah took us to the train about an hour and a half too early. But
+I wus glad we wus on time, because it would have worked Josiah up
+dretfully if we hadn't been. For he had spent the most of the latter
+part of the night in gettin' up and walkin' out to the clock to see if
+it wus approachin' train time: the train left at a quarter to ten.
+
+I wus glad on his account, and also on my own; for at the last minute,
+as you may say, who should come a runnin' down to the depot but Sam
+Shelmadine, a wantin' to send a errent by me to Washington.
+
+He kinder wunk me out to one side of the waitin'-room, and asked me "if
+I would try to get him a license to steal horses."
+
+It kinder runs in the blood of the Shelmadines to love to steal, and he
+owned up that it did. But he wuzn't goin' into it for that, he said: he
+wanted the profit of it.
+
+But I told him "I wouldn't do any such thing;" and I looked at him in
+such a witherin' way, that I should most probable have withered him,
+only he is blind with one eye, and I was on the blind side.
+
+But he argued with me, and said it was no worse than to give licenses
+for other kinds of meanness.
+
+He said they give licenses now to steal--steal folks'es senses away, and
+then they would steal every thing else, and murder, and tear round into
+every kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things done
+fair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He was goin' West, and
+he thought he could do a good business, and lay up something. If he had
+a license, he shouldn't be afraid of bein' shot up, or shot.
+
+But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wus refusin', the cars
+snorted, and I wus glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild
+snort something of the indignation I felt.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+When Cicely and the boy and I got to Washington, the shades of twilight
+was a shadin the earth gently; and we got a man to take us to Condelick
+Smith'ses.
+
+The man was in a hack, as Cicely called it (and he had a hackin' cough,
+too, which made it seem more singular). We told him to take us right to
+Miss Condelick Smith'ses. Condelick is my own cousin on my own side, and
+travelin' on the road for groceries.
+
+She keeps a nice, quiet boardin'-house. Only a few boarders, "with the
+comforts of a home, and congenial society," as she wrote to me when she
+heard I wus a comin' to Washington. She said we had _got_ to go to
+her house; so we went, with the distinct knowledge in our minds and
+pocket-books, of payin' for our 3 boards.
+
+She was very tickled to see us, and embraced us almost warmly. She had
+been over a hot fire a cookin'. She is humbly, but likely, I have been
+told and believe.
+
+She has got a wen on her cheek, but that don't hurt her any. Wens hain't
+nothin' that detract from a person's moral worth.
+
+There is only one child in the family,--Condelick, Jr., aged 13. A
+good, fat boy, with white hair and blue eyes, and a great capacity for
+blushin', but seemed to be good dispositioned.
+
+It wus late supper time; and we had only time to go up into our rooms,
+and bathe our weary faces and hands, when we had to go down to supper.
+
+Miss Condelick Smith called it dinner: she misspoke herself. Havin' so
+much on her hands, it is no wonder that she should make a slip once in a
+while. I should, myself, if my mind wuzn't like iron for strength. There
+wus only three or four to the table besides us: it wuz later than their
+usial supper time. There wus a young couple there who had jest been
+married, and come there to live.
+
+Ever sense we left home we had seen sights and sights of brides and
+groomses. It seemed to be a good time of year for 'em; and Cicely and I
+would pass the time by guessin', from their demeaners, how long they had
+been married. You know they act very soft the first day or two, and then
+harden gradually, as time passes, till sometimes they get very hard.
+
+Wall, as I looked at this young pair, I whispered to Cicely,--
+
+"2 days."
+
+They acted well. Though I see with pain that the bride was tryin' to
+foller after the groom blindly, and I see she was a layin' up trouble
+for herself. Amongst other good things, they had a baked chicken for
+supper; and when the young husband wus asked what part of the fowl he
+would take, he said,--
+
+"It was immaterial!"
+
+And then, when they asked the bride, she blushed sweetly, and said,--
+
+"She would take a piece of the immaterial too."
+
+And she bein' next to me, I said to her in a low tone, but firm and
+motherly,--
+
+"You are a beginner in married life; and I say to you, as one who has
+had stiddy practice for 20 years, begin right. Let your affections be
+firm as adamant, cling closely to Duty's apron-strings, but do not too
+blindly copy after your groom. Try to stand up on your own feet, and be
+a helpmate to him, not a dead weight for him to carry. Do branch right
+out, and tell what part of the fowl, or of life, you want, if it hain't
+nothin' but the gizzard or neck; and then try to get it. If you don't
+have any self-reliance, if you don't try to help yourself any, it is
+highly probable to me, that you won't get any thing more out of the
+fowl, or of life, than a piece of 'the immaterial.'"
+
+She blushed, and said she would. And so Duty bein' appeased, and
+attended to, I calmly pursued my own meal.
+
+The next morning Cicely was so beat out that she couldn't get up at
+all. She wuzn't sick, only jest tired out. And so the boy and I sot out
+alone.
+
+I told Cicely I would do my errents the first thing, so as to leave my
+mind and my conscience clear for the rest of my stay.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA ADVISING THE BRIDE.]
+
+And I knew there wuz a good many who would feel hurt, deeply hurt, if I
+didn't notice 'em right off the first thing. The President, and lots of
+'em, I knew would take it right to heart, and feel dretfully worked up
+and slighted, if I didn't call on 'em.
+
+And then, I had to carry Dorlesky's errent to the President anyway. And
+I thought I would tend to it right away, so I sot out in good season.
+
+When you are a noticin' anybody, and makin' 'em perfectly happy, you
+feel well yourself. I was in good spirits, and quite a number of 'em.
+The boy wus feelin' well too. He had a little black velvet suit and a
+deep lace collar, and his gold curls was a hangin' down under his little
+black velvet cap. They made him look more babyish; but I believe Cicely
+kept 'em so to make him look young, she felt so dubersome about his
+future. But he looked sweet enough to kiss right there in the street.
+
+I, too, looked well, very. I had on that new dress, Bismark brown, the
+color remindin' me of 2 noble patriots. And made by a Martha. I thought
+of that proudly, as I looked at George's benign face on the top of
+the monument, and wondered what he'd say if he see it, and hefted my
+emotions I had when causin' it to be made for my tower. I realized as
+I meandered along, that patriotism wus enwrappin' me from head to foot;
+for my polynay was long, and my head was completely full of Gass'es
+"Journal," and Starks'es "Life of Washington," and a few martyrs.
+
+I wus carryin' Dorlesky's errents.
+
+On the outside of my head I had a good honorable shirred silk bunnet,
+the color of my dress, a good solid brown (that same color, B. B.). And
+my usial long green veil, with a lute-string ribbon run in, hung down on
+one side of my bunnet in its wonted way.
+
+It hung gracefully, and yet it seemed to me there wus both dignity and
+principle in its hang. It give me a sort of a dressy look, but none too
+dressy.
+
+And so we wended our way down the broad, beautiful streets towards the
+White House.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND PAUL ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE.]
+
+Handsomer streets I never see. I had thought Jonesville streets wus
+middlin' handsome and roomy. Why, two double wagons can go by each other
+with perfect safety, right in front of the grocery stores, where there
+is lots of boxes too; and wimmen can be a walkin' there too at the same
+time, hefty ones.
+
+But, good land! Loads of hay could pass each other here, and droves of
+dromedaries, and camels, and not touch each other, and then there
+would be lots of room for men and wimmen, and for wagons to rumble, and
+perioguers to float up and down,--if perioguers could sail on dry land.
+
+Roomier, handsomer, well shadeder streets I never want to see, nor don't
+expect to. Why, Jonesville streets are like tape compared with 'em; and
+Loontown and Toad Holler, they are like thread, No. 50 (allegory).
+
+Bub Smith wus well acquainted with the President's hired man, so he let
+us in without parlay.
+
+I don't believe in talkin big as a general thing. But thinks'es I, Here
+I be, a holdin' up the dignity of Jonesville: and here I be, on a deep,
+heart-searchin' errent to the Nation. So I said, in words and axents
+a good deal like them I have read of in "Children of the Abbey," and
+"Charlotte Temple,"--
+
+"Is the President of the United States within?"
+
+He said he was, but said sunthin' about his not receiving calls in the
+mornings.
+
+But I says in a very polite way,--for I like to put folks at their ease,
+presidents or peddlers or any thing,--
+
+"It hain't no matter at all if he hain't dressed up--of course he wuzn't
+expectin' company. Josiah don't dress up mornin's."
+
+And then he says something about "he didn't know but he was engaged."
+
+Says I, "That hain't no news to me, nor the Nation. We have been a
+hearin' that for three years, right along. And if he is engaged, it
+hain't no good reason why he shouldn't speak to other wimmen,--good,
+honorable married ones too."
+
+"Well," says he finally, "I will take up your card."
+
+"No, you won't!" says I firmly. "I am a Methodist! I guess I can start
+off on a short tower, without takin' a pack of cards with me. And if
+I had 'em right here in my pocket, or a set of dominoes, I shouldn't
+expect to take up the time of the President of the United States a
+playin' games at this time of the day." Says I in deep tones, "I am a
+carrien' errents to the President that the world knows not of."
+
+He blushed up red; he was ashamed; and he said "he would see if I could
+be admitted."
+
+And he led the way along, and I follered, and the boy. Bub Smith had
+left us at the door.
+
+The hired man seemed to think I would want to look round some; and he
+walked sort o' slow, out of courtesy. But, good land! how little that
+hired man knew my feelin's, as he led me on, I a thinkin' to myself,--
+
+"Here I am, a steppin' where G. Washington strode." Oh the grandeur
+of my feelin's! The nobility of 'em! and the quantity! Why, it was a
+perfect sight.
+
+But right into these exalted sentiments the hired man intruded with his
+frivolous remarks,--worse than frivolous.
+
+He says agin something about "not knowin' whether the President would be
+ready to receive me."
+
+And I stepped down sudden from that lofty piller I had trod on in my
+mind, and says I,--
+
+"I tell you agin, I don't care whether he is dressed up or not. I come
+on principle, and I shall look at him through that eye, and no other."
+
+"Wall," says he, turnin' sort o' red agin (he was ashamed), "have you
+noticed the beauty of the didos?"
+
+But I kep' my head right up in the air nobly, and never turned to the
+right or the left; and says I,--
+
+"I don't see no beauty in cuttin' up didos, nor never did. I have heard
+that they did such things here in Washington, D.C., but I do not choose
+to have my attention drawed to 'em."
+
+But I pondered a minute, and the word "meetin'-house" struck a fearful
+blow aginst my conscience;' and I says in milder axents,--
+
+"If I looked upon a dido at all, it would be, not with a human woman's
+eye, but the eye of a Methodist. My duty draws me:--point out the dido,
+and I will look at it through that one eye."
+
+And he says, "I was a talkin' about the walls of this room."
+
+And I says, "Why couldn't you say so in the first place? The idee of
+skairin' folks! or tryin' to," I added; for I hain't easily skairt.
+
+The walls wus perfectly beautiful, and so wus the ceilin' and floors.
+There wuzn't a house in Jonesville that could compare with it, though
+we had painted our meetin-house over at a cost of upwards of 28 dollars.
+But it didn't come up to this--not half. President Arthur has got good
+taste; and I thought to myself, and I says to the hired man, as I looked
+round and see the soft richness and quiet beauty and grandeur of the
+surroundings,--
+
+"I had just as lives have him pick me out a calico dress as to pick it
+out myself. And that is sayin' a great deal," says I. "I am always very
+putickuler in calico: richness and beauty is what I look out for, and
+wear."
+
+Jest as I wus sayin' this, the hired man opened a door into a lofty,
+beautiful room; and says he,--
+
+"Step in here, madam, into the antick room, and I'll see if the
+President can see you;" and he started off sudden, bein' called. And I
+jest turned round and looked after him, for I wanted to enquire into
+it. I had heard of their cuttin' up anticks at Washington,--I had come
+prepared for it; but I didn't know as they was bold enough to come right
+out, and have rooms devoted to that purpose. And I looked all round the
+room before I ventured in. But it looked neat as a pin, and not a soul
+in there; and thinks'es I, "It hain't probable their day for cuttin' up
+anticks. I guess I'll venture." So I went in.
+
+But I sot pretty near the edge of the chair, ready to jump at the first
+thing I didn't like. And I kep' a close holt of the boy. I felt that I
+was right in the midst of dangers. I had feared and foreboded,--oh,
+how I had feared and foreboded about the dangers and deep perils of
+Washington, D.C.! And here I wuz, the very first thing, invited right in
+broad daylight, with no excuse or any thing, right into a antick room.
+
+Oh, how thankful, how thankful I wuz, that Josiah Allen wuzn't there!
+
+I knew, as he felt a good deal of the time, an antick room was what he
+would choose out of all others. And I felt stronger than ever the deep
+resolve that Josiah Allen should not run. He must not be exposed to such
+dangers, with his mind as it wuz, and his heft. I felt that he would
+suckumb.
+
+And I wondered that President Arthur, who I had always heard was a
+perfect gentleman, should come to have a room called like that, but
+s'posed it was there when he went. I don't believe he'd countenance any
+thing of the kind.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this when the hired man come back, and said,--
+
+"The President would receive me."
+
+"Wall," says I calmly, "I am ready to be received."
+
+So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room,
+kinder round, and red colored, with lots of elegant pictures and
+lookin'-glasses and books.
+
+The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and,
+good land! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed
+up slick--slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He
+had on a sort of a gray suit, and a rose-bud in his button-hole.
+
+He was a good-lookin' man, though he had a middlin' tired look in his
+kinder brown eyes as he looked up.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING THE PRESIDENT.]
+
+I had calculated to act noble on that occasion, as I appeared before him
+who stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W., and sot in the
+chair of the (nearly) angel Garfield. I had thought that likely as
+not, entirely unbeknown to me, I should soar right off into a eloquent
+oration. For I honored him as a President. I felt like neighborin' with
+him on account of his name--Allen! (That name I took at the alter of
+Jonesville, and pure love.)
+
+But how little can we calculate on future contingencies, or what we
+shall do when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I
+had said before on a similar occasion, these simple words, that yet mean
+so much, so much,--
+
+"Allen, I have come!"
+
+He, too, was overcome by his feelin's: I see he wuz. His face looked
+fairly solemn; but, as he is a perfect gentleman, he controlled himself,
+and said quietly these words, that, too, have a deep import,--
+
+"I see you have."
+
+He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady.
+And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip
+holt of the same hellum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm
+when I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.
+
+I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent
+chair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds,--I hain't vain,
+but I like to look well,--and then I at once told him of my errents. I
+told him--
+
+"I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,--one for myself,
+and two for Dorlesky Burpy."
+
+He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always looks
+tired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-chores done,
+so it didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my own
+errent first, consequently I tackled him.
+
+I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.
+
+And he said, "he had heard of it."
+
+And I says, "I s'pose so. I s'pose such things will spread, bein' a sort
+of a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and all
+round."
+
+"Yes," he said, "it was spoke of a good deal."
+
+"Wall," says I, "the cast-iron love and devotion I feel for that man
+don't show off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up
+strongest in dangers and troubles." And then I went on to tell him how
+Josiah wanted to come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had
+always heard Washington wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for
+me to lay down on my goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety,
+while my pardner was a grapplin' with dangers of which I did not know
+the exact size and heft. And so I had made up my mind to come ahead of
+him, as a forerunner on a tower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and
+see if I dast trust my companion there. "And now," says I, "I want you
+to tell me candid," says I. "Your settin' in George Washington's high
+chair makes me look up to you. It is a sightly place; you can see
+fur: your name bein' Allen makes me feel sort o' confidential and good
+towards you, and I want you to talk real honest and candid with me."
+Says I solemnly, "I ask you, Allen, not as a politician, but as a human
+bein', would you dast to let Josiah come?"
+
+Says he, "The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on
+what sort of a man it is that comes." Then was a tryin' time for me. I
+would not lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even
+from myself. So I says,--
+
+"He is a man that has traits and qualities, and sights of 'em."
+
+But thinkin' that I must do so, if I got true information of dangers,
+I went on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered
+dangerous to himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my
+dark forebodin's about it.
+
+The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what
+I had always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him
+all his political views and aspirations, and offered his help to the
+Government. And says he, "I think I know all about the man."
+
+"Then," says I, "you see he is a good deal like other men."
+
+And he said, sort o' dreamily, "that he was."
+
+And then agin silence rained. He was a thinkin', I knew, on all the deep
+dangers that hedged in Josiah Allen and America if he come. And a musin'
+on all the probable dangers of the Plan. And a thinkin' it over how
+to do jest right in the matter,--right by Josiah, right by the nation,
+right by me.
+
+Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and I
+says in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense,--
+
+"Would it be safe for my pardner to come to Washington? Would it be safe
+for Josiah, safe for the nation?" Says I, in deeper, mournfuler tones,--
+
+"Would you--would you dast to let him come?"
+
+He said, sort o' dreamily, "that those views and aspirations of Josiah's
+wasn't really needed at Washington, they had plenty of them there;
+and"--
+
+But I says, "I _must_ have a plainer answer to ease my mind and heart.
+Do tell me plain,--would you dast?"
+
+He looked full at me. He has got good, honest-looking eyes, and a
+sensible, candid look onto him. He liked me,--I knew he did from his
+looks,--a calm, Methodist-Episcopal likin',--nothin' light.
+
+And I see in them eyes that he didn't like Josiah's political idees. I
+see that he was afraid, as afraid as death of that plan; and I see that
+he considered Washington a dangerous, dangerous place for grangers and
+Josiah Allens to be a roamin' round in. I could see that he dreaded
+the sufferin's for me and for the nation if the Hon. Josiah Allen was
+elected.
+
+[Illustration: "WOULD YOU DAST?"]
+
+But still, he seemed to hate to speak; and wise, cautious conservatism,
+and gentlemanly dignity, was wrote down on his linement. Even the
+red rosebud in his button-hole looked dretful good-natured, but
+close-mouthed.
+
+I don't know as he would have spoke at all agin, if I hadn't uttered
+once more them soul-harrowin' words, "_Would you dast?_"
+
+Pity and good feelin' then seemed to overpower for a moment the
+statesman and courteous diplomat.
+
+And he said in gentle, gracious tones, "If I tell you just what I think,
+I would not like to say it officially, but would say it in confidence,
+as from an Allen to an Allen."
+
+Says I, "It sha'n't go no further."
+
+And so I would warn everybody that it must _not_ be told.
+
+Then says he, "I will tell you. I wouldn't dast."
+
+Says I, "That settles it. If human efforts can avail, Josiah Allen will
+not be United-States senator." And says I, "You have only confirmed my
+fears. I knew, feelin' as he felt, that it wuzn't safe for Josiah or the
+nation to have him come."
+
+Agin he reminded me that it was told to me in confidence, and agin I
+want to say that it _must_ be kep'.
+
+I thanked him for his kindness. He is a perfect gentleman; and he told
+me jest out of courtesy and politeness, and I know it. And I can be
+very polite too. And I am naturally one of the kindest-hearted of
+Jonesvillians.
+
+So I says to him, "I won't forget your kindness to me; and I want to say
+right here, that Josiah and me both think well on you--first-rate."
+
+Says he with a sort of a tired look, as if he wus a lookin' back over a
+hard road, "I have honestly tried to do the best I could."
+
+Says I, "I believe it." And wantin' to encourage him still more, says
+I,--
+
+"Josiah believes it, and Dorlesky Burpy, and lots of other
+Jonesvillians." Says I, "To set down in a chair that an angel has jest
+vacated, a high chair under the full glare of critical inspection, is
+a tegus place. I don't s'pose Garfield was really an angel, but his
+sufferin's and martyrdom placed him almost in that light before the
+world.
+
+"And you have filled that chair, and filled it well. With dignity and
+courtesy and prudence. And we have been proud of you, Josiah and me both
+have."
+
+He brightened up: he had been afraid, I could see, that we wuzn't suited
+with him. And it took a load offen him. His linement looked clearer than
+it had, and brighter.
+
+"And now," says I, sithin' a little, "I have got to do Dorlesky's
+errents."
+
+He, too, sithed. His linement fell. I pitied him, and would gladly have
+refrained from troubling him more. But duty hunched me; and when she
+hunches, I have to move forward.
+
+Says I in measured tones, each tone measurin' jest about the same,--half
+duty, and half pity for him,--
+
+"Dorlesky Burpy sent these errents to you. She wanted intemperance done
+away with--the Whiskey Ring broke right up. She wanted you to drink
+nothin' stronger than root-beer when you had company to dinner, she
+offerin' to send you a receipt for it from Jonesville; and she wanted
+her rights, and she wanted 'em all this week without fail."
+
+He sithed hard. And never did I see a linement fall further than his
+linement fell. I pitied him. I see it wus a hard stent for him, to do it
+in the time she had sot.
+
+And I says, "I think myself that Dorlesky is a little onreasonable. I
+myself am willin' to wait till next week. But she has suffered dretfully
+from intemperance, dretfully from the Rings, and dretfully from want of
+Rights. And her sufferin's have made her more voyalent in her demands,
+and impatienter."
+
+And then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent. But my
+promise weighed on me, and Duty poked me in the side. I wus determined
+to do the errent jest as I would wish a errent done for me, from
+borryin' a drawin' of tea to tacklin' the nation, and tryin' to get a
+little mess of truth and justice out of it.
+
+"Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do these things, she
+would have you removed from the Presidential chair, and you should
+never, never, be President agin."
+
+He trembled, he trembled like a popple-leaf. And I felt as if I should
+sink: it seemed to me jest as if Dorlesky wus askin' too much of him,
+and was threatenin' too hard.
+
+And bein' one that loves truth, I told him that Dorlesky was middlin'
+disagreeable, and very humbly, but she needed her rights jest as much as
+if she was a dolly. And then I went on and told him all how she and her
+relations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she had
+suffered from the Ring, till I declare, a talkin about them little
+children of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin' as
+Dorlesky herself; and entirely unbeknown to myself, I talked powerful on
+intemperance and Rings--and sound.
+
+When I got down agin onto my feet, I see he had a sort of a worried,
+anxious look; and he says,--
+
+"The laws of the United States are such, that I can't interfere."
+
+"Then," says I, "why don't you _make_ the United States do right?"
+
+And he said somethin' about the might of the majority and the powerful
+rings.
+
+And that sot me off agin. And I talked very powerful, kinder allegored,
+about allowin' a ring to be put round the United States, and let a lot
+of whiskey-dealers lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels.
+Says I, "How does it look before the Nations, to see Columbia led round
+half tipsy by a Ring?"
+
+He seemed to think it looked bad, I knew by his looks.
+
+Says I, "Intemperance is bad for Dorlesky, and bad for the Nation."
+
+He murmured somethin' about the "revenue that the liquor-trade brought
+to the Government."
+
+But I says, "Every penny they give, is money right out of the people's
+pockets; and every dollar that the people pay into the liquor-traffic,
+that they may give a few cents of it into the Treasury, is costin'
+the people three times that dollar, in the loss that intemperance
+entails,--loss of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do any thing
+but wobble and stagger round; loss of wealth, by all the enormous losses
+of property and of taxation, of almshouses and madhouses, jails, police
+forces, paupers' coffins, and the digging of the thousands and thousands
+of graves that are filled yearly by them that reel into 'em." Says I,
+"Wouldn't it be better for the people to pay that dollar in the first
+place into the Treasury, than to let it filter through the dram-seller's
+hands, and 2 or 3 cents of it fall into the National purse at last,
+putrid, and heavy with all these losses and curses and crimes and shames
+and despairs and agonies?"
+
+He seemed to think it would: I see by the looks of his linement, he did.
+Every honorable man feels so in his heart; and yet they let the liquor
+ring control 'em, and lead 'em round.
+
+Says I, "All the intellectual and moral power of the United States are
+jest rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring, and are being drove
+by the whiskey-dealers jest where they want to drive 'em." Says I, "It
+controls New-York village, and nobody pretends to deny it; and all the
+piety and philanthropy and culture and philosiphy of that village has
+to be jest drawed along in that Ring. And," says I, in low but startlin'
+tones of principle,--
+
+"Where, where, is it a drawin' 'em to? Where is it a drawin' the hull
+nation to? Is it' a drawin' 'em down into a slavery ten times more
+abject and soul-destroyin' than African slavery ever was? Tell me," says
+I firmly, "tell me."
+
+His mean looked impressed, but he did not try to frame a reply. I think
+he could not find a frame. There is no frame to that reply. It is a
+conundrum as boundless as truth and God's justice, and as solemnly deep
+in its sure consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as
+that is.
+
+Agin I says, "Where is that Ring a drawin' the United States? Where is
+it a drawin' Dorlesky?"
+
+"Oh! Dorlesky!" says he, a comin' up out of his deep reveryin', but
+polite,--a politer demeanerd, gentlemanly appeariner man I don't want to
+see. "Ah, yes! I would be glad, Josiah Allen's wife, to do her errent. I
+think Dorlesky is justified in asking to have the Ring destroyed. But I
+am not the one to go to--I am not the one to do her errent."
+
+Says I, "Who is the man, or men?"
+
+Says he, "James G. Blaine."
+
+Says I, "Is that so? I will go right to James G. Blaineses."
+
+So I spoke to the boy. He had been all engaged lookin' out of the
+winders, but he was willin' to go.
+
+And the President took the boy upon his knee, wantin' to do something
+agreeable, I s'pose, seein' he couldn't do the errent. And he says, jest
+to make himself pleasant to the boy,--
+
+"Well, my little man, are you a Republican, or Democrat?"
+
+"I am a Epispocal."
+
+And seein' the boy seemed to be headed onto theoligy instead of
+politics, and wantin' to kinder show him off, I says,--
+
+"Tell the gentleman who made you."
+
+He spoke right up prompt, as if hurryin' to get through theoligy, so's
+to tackle sunthin' else. He answered as exhaustively as an exhauster
+could at a meetin',--
+
+"I was made out of dust, and breathed into. I am made out of God and
+dirt."
+
+Oh, how deep, how deep that child is! I never had heard him say that
+before. But how true it wuz! The divine and the human, linked so close
+together from birth till death. No philosipher that ever philosiphized
+could go deeper or higher.
+
+I see the President looked impressed. But the boy branched off quick,
+for he seemed fairly burstin' with questions.
+
+[Illustration: "I AM A EPISPOCAL."]
+
+"_Say,_ what is this house called the White House for? Is it because it
+is to help white folks, and not help the black ones, and Injins?"
+
+I declare, I almost thought the boy had heard sunthin' about the
+elections in the South, and the Congressional vote for cuttin' down
+the money for the Indian schools. Legislative action to perpetuate the
+ignorance and brutality of a race.
+
+The President said dreamily, "No, it wasn't for that."
+
+"Well, is it called white like the gate of the City is? Mamma said that
+was white,--a pearl, you know,--because every thing was pure and white
+inside the City. Is it because the laws that are made here are all white
+and good? And _say_"--
+
+Here his eyes looked dark and big with excitement.
+
+"What is George Washington up on top of that big white piller for?"
+
+"He was a great man."
+
+"How much did he weigh? How many yards did it take for his vest--forty?"
+
+"He did great and noble deeds--he fought and bled."
+
+"If fighting makes folks great, why did mamma punish me when I fought
+with Jim Gowdey? He stole my jack-knife, and knocked me down, and set
+down on me, and took my chewing-gum away from me, and chewed it himself.
+And I rose against him, and we fought and bled: my nose bled, and so
+did his. But I got it away from him, and chewed it myself. But mamma
+punished me, and said; God wouldn't love me if I quarrelled so, and if
+we couldn't agree, we must get somebody to settle our trouble for us.
+Why didn't she stand me up on a big white pillow out in the door-yard,
+and be proud of me, and not shut me up in a dark closet?"
+
+"He fought for Liberty."
+
+"Did he get it?"
+
+"He fought that the United States might be free."
+
+"Is it free?"
+
+The President waved off that question, and the boy kep' on.
+
+"Is it true what you have been talkin' about,--is there a great big ring
+put all round it, and is it bein' drawed along into a mean place?"
+
+[Illustration: WAR DECLARED.]
+
+And then the boy's eyes grew black with excitement; and he kep' right on
+without waitin' for breath, or for a answer,--
+
+"He had heard it talked about, was it right to let anybody do wrong for
+money? Did the United States do it? Did it make mean things right? If
+it did, he wanted to get one of Tom Gowdy's white rats. He wouldn't sell
+it, and he wanted it. His mother wouldn't let him steal it; but if the
+United States could _make_ it right for him to do wrong, he had got ten
+cents of his own, and he'd buy the right to get that white rat. And if
+Tom wanted to cry about it, let him. If the United States sold him the
+right to do it, he guessed he could do it, no matter how much whimperin'
+there was, and no matter who said it was wrong. _He wanted the rat_."
+
+But I see the President's eyes, which had looked kinder rested when he
+took him up, grew bigger and bigger with surprise and anxiety. I guess
+he thought he had got his day's work in front of him. And I told the boy
+we must go. And then I says to the President,--
+
+"That I knew he was quite a traveller, and of course he wouldn't want
+to die without seein' Jonesville;" and says I, "Be sure to come to our
+house to supper when you come." Says I, "I can't reccomend the huntin'
+so much; there haint nothin' more excitin' to shoot than red squirrels
+and chipmunks: but there is quite good fishin' in the creek back of our
+house; they ketched 4 horned Asa's there last week, and lots of chubs."
+
+He smiled real agreable, and said, "when he visited Jonesville, he
+wouldn't fail to take tea with me."
+
+Says I, "So do; and, if you get lost, you jest enquire at the Corners of
+old Grout Nickleson, and he will set you right."
+
+He smiled agin, and said "he wouldn't fail to enquire if he got lost."
+
+And then I shook hands with him, thinkin' it would be expected of me
+(his hands are white, and not much bigger than Tirzah Ann's). And then I
+removed the boy by voyalence, for he was a askin' questions agin, faster
+than ever; and he poured out over his shoulder a partin' dribble of
+questions, that lasted till we got outside. And then he tackled me, and
+he asked me somewhere in the neighborhood of a 1,000 questions on the
+way back to Miss Smiths'es.
+
+He begun agin on George Washington jest as quick as he ketched sight of
+his monument agin.
+
+"If George Washington is up on the top of that monument for tellin' the
+truth, why didn't all the big men try to tell the truth so's to be stood
+up on pillows outdoors, and not be a layin' down in the grass? And did
+the little hatchet help him do right? If it did, why didn't all the big
+men wear them in their belts to do right with, and tell the truth with?
+And _say_"--
+
+Oh, dear me suz! He asked me over 40 questions to a lamp-post, for I
+counted 'em; and there wuz 18 posts.
+
+Good land! I'd ruther wash than try to answer him; but he looked so
+sweet and good-natured and confidin', his eyes danced so, and he was so
+awful pretty, that I felt in the midst of my deep fag, that I could kiss
+him right there in the street if it wuzn't for the looks of it: he is a
+beautiful child, and very deep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Wall, after dinner I sot sail for James G. Blains'es, a walkin' afoot,
+and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. I was determined to do that errent
+before I slept. I am very obleegin', and am called so.
+
+When I got to Mr. Blaines'es, I was considerably tired; for though
+Dorlesky's errent might not be heavy as weighed by the steelyards, yet
+it was _very_ hefty and wearin' on the moral feelin's. And my firm,
+unalterable determination to carry it straight, and tend to it, to the
+very utmost of my ability, strained on me.
+
+I was fagged.
+
+But I don't believe Mr. Blaine see the fag. I shook hands with him, and
+there was calmness in that shake. I passed the compliments of the
+day (how do you do, etc.), and there was peace and dignity in them
+compliments.
+
+He was most probable, glad I had come. But he didn't seem quite so
+over-rejoiced as he probable would if he hadn't been so busy. _I_ can't
+be so highly tickled when company comes, when I am washin' and cleanin'
+house.
+
+He had piles and piles of papers on the table before him. And there was
+a gentleman a settin' at the end of the room a readin'.
+
+I like James G. Blaines'es looks middlin' well. Although, like myself,
+he don't set up for a professional beauty. It seems as if some of the
+strength of the mountain pines round his old home is a holdin' up his
+backbone, and some of the bracin' air of the pine woods of Maine has
+blowed into James'es intellect, and braced it.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING JAMES G. BLAINE.]
+
+I think enough of James, but not too much. My likin' is jest about
+strong enough from a literary person to a literary person.
+
+We are both literary, very. He is considerable taller than I am; and on
+that account, and a good many others, I felt like lookin' up to him.
+
+Wall, when I have got a hard job in front of me, I don't know any better
+way than to tackle it to once. So consequently I tackled it.
+
+I told James, that Dorlesky Burpy had sent two errents by me, and I had
+brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+
+And then I told him jest how she had suffered from the Whisky Ring,
+and how she had suffered from not havin' her rights; and I told him all
+about her relations sufferin', and that Dorlesky wanted the Ring broke,
+and her rights gin to her, within seven days at the longest.
+
+He rubbed his brow thoughtfully, and says,--
+
+"It will be difficult to accomplish so much in so short a time."
+
+"I know it," says I. "I told Dorlesky it would. But she feels jest so,
+and I promised to do her errent; and I am a doin' it."
+
+Agin he rubbed his brow in deep thought, and agin he says,--
+
+"I don't think Dorlesky is unreasonable in her demands, only in the
+length of time she has set."
+
+Says I, "That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could
+do her errents this week. But you can see for yourself that she is
+right, only in the time she has sot."
+
+"Yes," he said. "He see she wuz." And says he, "I wish the 3 could be
+reconciled."
+
+"What 3?" says I.
+
+Says he, "The liquor traffic, liberty, and Dorlesky."
+
+And then come the very hardest part of my errent. But I had to do it, I
+had to.
+
+Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't
+the woman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the
+wrong tones at the wrong times--no, I used my deepest and most skairful
+one--says I, "Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do her
+errent, you should not be the next President of the United States."
+
+He turned pale. He looked agitated, fearful agitated.
+
+I s'pose it was not only my words and tone that skairt him, but my
+mean. I put on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble,
+high-headed mean at times. I got it, I think, in the first place, by
+overlookin' Josiah's faults. I always said a wife ort to overlook her
+husband's faults; and I have to overlook so many, that it has made me
+about as high-headed, sometimes, as a warlike gander, but more sort o'
+meller-lookin', and sublime, kinder.
+
+He stood white as a piece of a piller-case, and seemin'ly plunged down
+into the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and
+says he,--
+
+"I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. And
+while I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the
+same time I do want to be--if you'll understand that paradox," says he.
+
+"Yes," says I sadly. "I understand that paradox. I have seen it myself,
+right in my own family." And I sithed. And agin silence rained; and I
+sot quietly in the rain, thinkin' mebby good would come of it.
+
+Finally he riz out of his revery; and says he, with a brighter look on
+his linement,--
+
+"I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent."
+
+"Who is the one?" says I.
+
+"Senator Logan," says he.
+
+Says I, "I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get
+back; for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over
+Washington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub
+is trusty: I'll send him." And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a
+gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort
+of a noble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen
+in 'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further.
+
+But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him
+that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves.
+
+But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman
+in the room,--
+
+"This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for
+you."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I would be glad to get it done, without goin' any
+further. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots of
+other wimmen."
+
+Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaine
+introduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blaine
+spoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick it
+up; and then he shook hands with me: and Mr. Blaine said good-bye to me,
+and started off.
+
+I felt willin' and glad to have this senator do Dorlesky's errents, but
+I didn't like his looks from the very first minute I sot my eyes on him.
+
+My land! talk about Dorlesky Burpy bein' disagreable--he wus as
+disagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of
+his eyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more
+close than that. He was some bald-headed, and he kinder smiled once in
+a while: I persume he will be known by this description. It is plain,
+anyway, almost lucid.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BLAINE INTRODUCING THE SENATOR.]
+
+But his baldness didn't look to me like Josiah Allen's baldness; and he
+didn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or the
+perfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised
+him from the first minute.
+
+Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for his
+mean. Truly, as Josiah Allen says, I don't like to see anybody too good.
+
+He drawed a chair up, for me and for himself, and asked me,--
+
+"If he should have the inexpressible honor and the delightful joy of
+aiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it," or words to that
+effect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want
+to if I could.
+
+But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly
+in front of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all
+of Dorlesky's errents. And how I had brought 'em from Jonesville on my
+tower. I told over all of her sufferin's, from the Ring, and from not
+havin' her rights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's;
+and all her aunt Eunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's,
+sufferin's. I did her errent up honorable and square, as I would love
+to have a errent done for me. I told him all the particulers; and as I
+finished, I said firmly,--
+
+"Now, can you do Dorlesky's errents? and will you?"
+
+He leaned forward with that deceitful and sort of disagreable smile of
+hisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fashion;
+and he took up the tab, and says he, in a low, insinuatin' voice, and
+lookin' close at the edge of the tab,--
+
+"Am I mistaken, or is this pipein'? or can it be Kensington tattin'?"
+
+I jest drawed the tab back coldly, and never dained a reply.
+
+Again he says, in a tone of amiable anxiety,--
+
+"Have I not heard a rumor that bangs were going out of style? I see you
+do not wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen
+are lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them." And he sithed.
+"_You_ are very beautiful." And he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful,
+love-sick sithe.
+
+I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing
+against her stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me
+by his talk or his sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad,
+injured look, as if my coldness wus ondoin' of him,--
+
+"My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however
+carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you
+a leaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the
+traits and habits of our American wad?"
+
+"What?" says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by
+just indignation, can stand only jest so much strain. "The what?"
+
+"The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that
+tailors make so much use of."
+
+Says I, "Do you mean waddin' 8 cents a sheet?"
+
+"8 cents a pelt--yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the
+hardy habits of the animal."
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly. I will hear no more."
+
+Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and the little talk that
+statesmen will use to wimmen, and I had heard much of their lies, etc.;
+but truly, I felt that the 1/2 had not been told. And then I thought out
+loud, and says,--
+
+"I have hearn how laws of right and justice are sot one side in
+Washington, D.C., as bein' too triflin' to attend to, while the
+legislators pondered over, and passed laws regardin', hens' eggs and
+birds' nests. But this is goin' too fur--too fur. But," says I firmly,
+"I shall do Dorlesky's errents, and do 'em to the best of my ability;
+and you can't draw off my attention from her sufferin's and her
+suffragin's by talkin' about wads."
+
+"I would love to obleege Dorlesky," says he, "because she belongs to
+such a lovely sex. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that
+ever walked the earth: they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses."
+
+Says I firmly, "That hain't no such thing. They are disagreable creeters
+a good deal of the time. They hain't no better than men. But they ought
+to have their rights all the same. Now, Dorlesky is disagreable, and
+kinder fierce actin', and jest as humbly as they make wimmen; but that
+hain't no sign she ort to be imposed upon. Josiah says, 'She hadn't ort
+to have a right, not a single right, because she is so humbly.' But I
+don't feel so."
+
+"Who is Josiah?" says he.
+
+Says I, "My husband."
+
+"Ah! your husband! yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of
+rights. They do not need rights, they need freedom from all cares and
+sufferings. Sweet, lovely beings, let them have husbands to lift them
+above all earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes," says he,
+liftin' his eyes to the heavens, and kinder shettin' 'em, some as if he
+was goin' into a trance, "fly around, ye angels, in your native haunts!
+mingle not with rings, and vile laws; flee away, flee above them."
+
+And he kinder moved his hand back and forth, in a floatin' fashion, up
+in the air, as if it was a woman a flyin' up there, smooth and serene.
+It would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn't me. I says
+reasonably,--
+
+"Dorlesky would have been glad to flew above 'em. But the ring and the
+vile laws laid holt of her, unbeknown to her, and dragged her down.
+And there she is, all dragged and bruised and brokenhearted by it. She
+didn't meddle with the political ring, but the ring meddled with her.
+How can she fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is a holdin'
+her down?"
+
+[Illustration: "FLY AROUND, YE ANGELS."]
+
+"Ahem!" says he. "Ahem, as it were--as I was saying, my dear madam,
+these angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty, to
+mingle with the rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them
+as they are now: we are willing to stand the rude buffetings
+of--of--voting, in order to guard these sweet, delicate creatures from
+any hardships. Sweet, tender beings, we would fain guard you--ah, yes!
+ah, yes!"
+
+[Illustration: WOMAN'S RIGHTS.]
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase; for such talk
+is like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral stomach." Says I, "You know,
+and I know, that these angelic, tender bein's, half clothed, fill our
+streets on icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and
+sons. They are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want
+liquor-drinkin' entails. They are starved, they are frozen, they are
+beaten, they are made childless and hopeless, by drunken husbands
+killing their own flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves, and
+are drowned by drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death,
+by drunken engineers; they go up on the scaffold, and die of crimes
+committed by the direct aid of this agent of hell.
+
+[Illustration: SOMEBODY BLUNDERED.]
+
+"Wimmen had ruther be a flyin' round than to do all this, but they
+can't. If men really believe all they say about wimmen, and I think some
+of 'em do, in a dreamy way--if wimmen are angels, give 'em the rights of
+angels. Who ever heard of a angel foldin' up her wings, and goin' to a
+poorhouse or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever heard
+of a angel bein' dragged off to a police court by a lot of men, for
+fightin' to defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that
+had broke her wings, and blacked her eyes, himself, got the angel into
+the fight, and then she got throwed into the streets and the prison by
+it? Who ever heard of a angel havin' to take in washin' to support a
+drunken son or father or husband? Who ever heard of a angel goin' out as
+wet nurse to get money to pay taxes on her home to a Government that in
+theory idolizes her, and practically despises her, and uses that same
+money in ways abomenable to that angel?
+
+"If you want to be consistent--if you are bound to make angels of
+wimmen, you ort to furnish a free, safe place for 'em to soar in. You
+ort to keep the angels from bein' meddled with, and bruised, and killed,
+etc."
+
+"Ahem," says he. "As it were, ahem."
+
+But I kep' right on, for I begun to feel noble and by the side of
+myself.
+
+"This talk about wimmen bein' outside and above all participation in the
+laws of her country, is jest as pretty as I ever heard any thing, and
+jest as simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes
+into the street, and say, 'Some of 'em are female flakes, and mustn't
+be trampled on.' The great march of life tramples on 'em all alike: they
+fall from one common sky, and are trodden down into one common ground.
+
+"Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human
+needs and weaknesses, needin' the same heavenly light, and the same
+human aids and helps. The law should meet out to them the same rewards
+and punishments.
+
+"Dorlesky says you call wimmens angels, and you don't give 'em the
+rights of the lowest beasts that crawls upon the earth. And Dorlesky
+told me to tell you that she didn't ask the rights of a angel: she would
+be perfectly contented and proud if you would give her the rights of a
+dog--the assured political rights of a yeller dog. She said 'yeller;'
+and I am bound on doin' her errent jest as she wanted me to, word for
+word.
+
+"A dog, Dorlesky says, don't have to be hung if it breaks the laws it
+is not allowed any hand in making. A dog don't have to pay taxes on its
+bone to a Government that withholds every right of citizenship from it.
+
+"A dog hain't called undogly if it is industrious, and hunts quietly
+round for its bone to the best of its ability, and wants to get its
+share of the crumbs that fall from that table that bills are laid on.
+
+"A dog hain't preached to about its duty to keep home sweet and sacred,
+and then see that home turned into a place of torment under laws that
+these very preachers have made legal and respectable.
+
+"A dog don't have to see its property taxed to advance laws that it
+believes ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the hearts of other
+dear dogs.
+
+"A dog don't have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that
+deny it freedom and justice--about its bein' a damosk rose, and a
+seraphine, when it knows it hain't: it knows, if it knows any thing,
+that it is a dog.
+
+"You see, Dorlesky has been kinder embittered by her trials that
+politics, corrupt legislation, has brought right onto her. She didn't
+want nothin' to do with 'em; but they come right onto her unexpected and
+unbeknown, and she feels jest so. She feels she must do every thing she
+can to alter matters. She wants to help make the laws that have such
+a overpowerin' influence over her, herself. She believes from her soul
+that they can't be much worse than they be now, and may be a little
+better."
+
+"Ah! if Dorlesky wishes to influence political affairs, let her
+influence her children,--her boys,--and they will carry her benign and
+noble influence forward into the centuries."
+
+"But the law has took her boy, her little boy and girl, away from her.
+Through the influence of the Whisky Ring, of which her husband was a
+shinin' member, he got possession of her boy. And so, the law has made
+it perfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him. What
+Dorlesky does, she must do herself."
+
+"Ah! A sad thing for Dorlesky. I trust that you have no grievance of the
+kind, I trust that your estimable husband is--as it were, estimable."
+
+"Yes, Josiah Allen is a good man. As good as men _can_ be. You know, men
+or wimmen either can't be only jest about so good anyway. But he is my
+choice, and he don't drink a drop."
+
+"Pardon me, madam; but if you are happy, as you say, in your marriage
+relations, and your husband is a temperate, good man, why do you feel so
+upon this subject?"
+
+"Why, good land! if you understand the nature of a woman, you would know
+that my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel about
+him, and our boy, makes me realize the sufferin's of Dorlesky in havin'
+her husband and boy lost to her, makes me realize the depth of a wive's,
+of a mother's, agony, when she sees the one she loves goin' down, goin'
+down so low that she can't reach him; makes me feel how she must yearn
+to help him in some safe, sure way.
+
+"High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman's
+life is, the more does she feel for them who are less blessed than she.
+Highest love goes lowest, if need be. Witness the love that left Heaven,
+and descended onto the earth, and into it, that He might lift up the
+lowly.
+
+"The pityin' words of Him who went about pleasin' not himself, hants me,
+and inspires me. I am sorry for Dorlesky, sorry for the hull wimmen
+race of the nation--and for the men too. Lots of 'em are good
+creeters--better than wimmen, some on 'em. They want to do jest about
+right, but don't exactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times,
+some of the masters was more to be pitied than the slaves. They could
+see the injustice, feel the wrong, they was doin'; but old chains of
+custom bound 'em, social customs and idees had hardened into habits of
+thought.
+
+"They realized the size and heft of the evil, but didn't know how to
+grapple with it, and throw it.
+
+"So now, many men see the great evils of this time, want to help it, but
+don't know the best way to lay holt of it.
+
+"Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try
+to get the right answer to it as fur as we can. Dorlesky feels that one
+of the answers to the conundrum is in gettin' her rights. She feels jest
+so.
+
+"I myself have got all the rights I need, or want, as fur as my own
+happiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half wooden
+one, but dear).
+
+"My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give social
+happiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property
+enough, and more than enough, for all the comforts of life. And, above
+all other things, my Josiah is my love and my theme."
+
+"Ah! yes!" says he. "Love is a woman's empire, and in that she should
+find her full content--her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman
+will not look outside of that lovely and safe and beautious empire."
+
+Says I firmly, "If she hain't a idiot, she can't help it. Love is the
+most beautiful thing on earth, the most holy, the most satisfyin'. But
+which would you like best--I do not ask you as a politician, but as a
+human bein'--which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest,
+tender nature--for in man or woman, 'the strongest are the tenderest,
+the loving are the daring'--which would you like best, the love and
+respect of such a nature, full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite
+variety, or the love of a fool?
+
+"A fool's love is wearin': it is insipid at the best, and it turns to
+viniger. Why! sweetened water _must_ turn to viniger: it is its nater.
+And, if a woman is bright and true-hearted, she can't help seem' through
+a injustice. She may be happy in her own home. Domestic affection,
+social enjoyments, the delights of a cultured home and society, and the
+companionship of the man she loves, and who loves her, will, if she is
+a true woman, satisfy fully her own personal needs and desires; and she
+would far rather, for her own selfish happiness, rest quietly in that
+love--that most blessed home.
+
+"But the bright, quick intellect that delights you, can't help seeing
+through an injustice, can't help seeing through shams of all kinds--sham
+sentiment, sham compliments, sham justice.
+
+"The tender, lovin' nature that blesses your life, can't help feelin'
+pity for those less blessed than herself. She looks down through the
+love-guarded lattice of her home,--from which your care would fain bar
+out all sights of woe and squalor,--she looks down, and sees the weary
+toilers below, the hopeless, the wretched; she sees the steep hills they
+have to climb, carry in' their crosses; she sees 'em go down into the
+mire, dragged there by the love that should lift 'em up.
+
+"She would not be the woman you love, if she could restrain her hand
+from liftin' up the fallen, wipin' tears from weepin' eyes, speakin'
+brave words for them who can't speak for themselves.
+
+"The very strength of her affection that would hold you up, if you were
+in trouble or disgrace, yearns to help all sorrowin' hearts.
+
+"Down in your heart, you can't help admirin' her for this: we can't help
+respectin' the one who advocates the right, the true, even if they are
+our conquerors.
+
+"Wimmen hain't angels: now, to be candid, you know they hain't. They
+hain't better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems
+curious to me, that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort
+to be more honest and open than wimmen. They hain't had to cajole and
+wheedle, and spile their natures, through little trickeries and deceits,
+and indirect ways, that wimmen has.
+
+"Why, cramp a tree-limb, and see if it will grow as straight and
+vigorous as it would in full freedom and sunshine.
+
+"Men ort to be nobler than wimmen, sincerer, braver. And they ort to be
+ashamed of this one trick of theirn; for they know they hain't honest in
+it, they hain't generous.
+
+"Give wimmen 2 or 3 generations of moral freedom, and see if men will
+laugh at 'em for their little deceits and affectations.
+
+"No: men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler; and they will both come
+nearer bein' angels, though most probable they won't be angels: they
+won't be any too good then, I hain't a mite afraid of it."
+
+He kinder sithed; and that sithe sort o' brought me down onto my feet
+agin (as it were), and a sense of my duty: and I spoke out agin,--
+
+"Can you, and will you, do Dorlesky's errents?"
+
+[Illustration: THE WEARY TOILERS OF LIFE.]
+
+Wall, he said, "as far as giving Dorlesky her rights was concerned, he
+felt that natural human instinct was against the change." He said, "in
+savage races, who knew nothing of civilization, male force and strength
+always ruled."
+
+Says I, "History can't be disputed; and history tells of savage races
+where the wimmen always rule, though I don't think they ort to," says I:
+"ability and goodness ort to rule."
+
+"Nature is against it," says he.
+
+Says I firmly, "Female bees, and lots of other insects, and animals,
+always have a female for queen and ruler. They rule blindly and
+entirely, right on through the centuries. But we are more enlightened,
+and should _not_ encourage it. In my opinion, a male bee has jest as
+good a right to be monarch as his female companion has. That is," says I
+reasonably, "if he knows as much, and is as good a calculator as she is.
+I love justice, I almost worship it."
+
+Agin he sithed; and says he, "Modern history don't seem to encourage the
+skeme."
+
+But his axent was weak, weak as a cat. He knew better.
+
+Says I, "We won't argue long on that point, for I could overwhelm you if
+I approved of overwhelmin'. But I merely ask you to cast your right
+eye over into England, and then beyond it into France. Men have ruled
+exclusively in France for the last 40 or 50 years, and a woman in
+England: which realm has been the most peaceful and prosperous?"
+
+He sithed twice. And he bowed his head upon his breast, in a sad, almost
+meachin' way. I nearly pitied him, disagreable as he wuz. When all of a
+sudden he brightened up; and says he,--
+
+"You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible is
+aginst the idee. The Bible teaches man's supremacy, man's absolute power
+and might and authority."
+
+"Why, how you talk!" says I. "Why, in the very first chapter, the Bible
+tells how man was jest turned right round by a woman. It teaches how she
+not only turned man right round to do as she wanted him to, but turned
+the hull world over.
+
+"That hain't nothin' I approve of: I don't speak of it because I like
+the idee. That wuzn't done in a open, honorable manner, as I believe
+things should be done. No: Eve ruled by indirect influence,--the 'gently
+influencing men' way, that politicians are so fond of. And she jest
+brought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it. A few years
+later, after men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen ruling
+Israel openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah, and other likely old
+4 mothers, why, things went on better. They didn't act meachin', and
+tempt, and act indirect, I'll bet, or I wouldn't be afraid to bet, if I
+approved of bettin'."
+
+He sithed powerful, and sot round oneasy in his chair. And says he, "I
+thought wimmen was taught by the Bible to serve, and love their homes."
+
+"So they be. And every true woman loves to serve. Home is my supreme
+happiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin' them I
+love. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors."
+
+"Wall," says he faintly, "the Old Testament may teach that wimmen has
+some strenth and power; but in the New Testament, you will find that in
+every great undertakin' and plan, men have been chosen by God to carry
+it through."
+
+"Why-ee!" says I. "How you talk!" says I. "Have you ever read the
+Bible?"
+
+He said "He had, his grandmother owned one. And he had seen it in early
+youth."
+
+And then he went on, sort o' apologizin', "He had always meant to read
+it through. But he had entered political life at an early age, and he
+believed he had never read any more of it, only portions of Gulliver's
+Travels. He believed," he said, "he had read as far as Lilliputions."
+
+Says I, "That hain't in the Bible,--you mean Gallatians."
+
+"Wall," he said, "that might be it. It was some man, he knew, and he had
+always heard and believed that man was the only worker God had chosen."
+
+"Why," says I, "the one great theme of the New Testament,--the
+redemption of the world through the birth of the Christ,--no man had
+any thing to do with that whatever. Our divine Lord was born of God and
+woman.
+
+"Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called
+women into that work,--the divine work of helpin' a world.
+
+"God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire for a world's
+work of sufferin' and renunciation. The soft airs of Gallilee wrapped
+her about in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams
+in maiden peace, dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and quiet and
+happiness.
+
+"From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy, innocent
+girlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin' to redeem a world
+from sin.
+
+"And did not this woman's love, and willin' obedience, and sufferin',
+and the shame of the world, set her apart, babtize her for this work of
+liftin' up the fallen, helpin' the weak?
+
+"Is it not a part of woman's life that she gave at the birth and the
+crucifixion?--her faith, her hope, her sufferin', her glow of divine
+pity and joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure
+heavenly, have they not for 1800 years been blessin' the world? The God
+in Christ would awe us too much: we would shield our faces from the too
+blindin' glare of the pure God-like. But the tender Christ, who wept
+over a sinful city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon
+the cross, to comfort his mother's heart, provide for her future--it is
+this element in our Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him,
+dare to kneel at His feet.
+
+"And since woman wus so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-worker
+with God in the beginnin' of a world's redemption; since He called her
+from the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace, into the blessed
+martyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin', all to help a world
+that cared nothing for her, that cried out shame upon her,--will He
+not help her to carry on the work that she helped commence? Will He not
+approve of her continuin' in it? Will He not protect her in it?
+
+"Yes: she cannot be harmed, since His care is over her; and the cause
+she loves, the cause of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too,
+and God will take care of His own. Herods full of greed, and frightened
+selfishness, may try to break her heart, by efforts to kill the child
+she loves; but she will hold it so close to her bosom, that he can't
+destroy it. And the light of the divine will go before her, showin'
+the way she must go, over the desert, maybe; but she shall bear it into
+safety."
+
+"You spoke of Herod," says he dreamily. "The name sounds familiar to me:
+was not Mr. Herod once in the United-States Congress?"
+
+"No," says I. "He died some years ago. But he has relatives there now,
+I think, judging from recent laws. You ask who Herod was; and, as it all
+seems to be a new story to you, I will tell you. That when the Saviour
+of the world was born in Bethlehem, and a woman was tryin' to save
+His life, a man by the name of Herod was tryin' his best, out of
+selfishness, and love of gain, to murder him."
+
+"Ah! that was not right in Herod."
+
+"No," says I. "It hain't been called so. And what wuzn't right in him,
+hain't right in his relations, who are tryin' to do the same thing
+to-day. But," says I reasonably, "because Herod was so mean, it hain't
+no sign that all men was mean. Joseph, now, was likely as he could be."
+
+"Joseph," says he pensively. "Do you allude to our senator from
+Connecticut,--Joseph R. Hawley?"
+
+"No, no," says I. "He is likely, as likely can be, and is always on
+the right side of questions--middlin' handsome too. But I am talkin'
+Bible--I am talkin' about Joseph, jest plain Joseph, and nothin' else."
+
+"Ah! I see I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed
+in politics, and political literature, I don't get any time to devote to
+less important publications."
+
+Says I candidly, "I knew you hadn't read it, I knew it the minute you
+mentioned the Book of Lilliputions. But, as I was a sayin', Joseph was
+a likely man. He did the very best he could with what he had to do with.
+He had the strength to lead the way, to overcome obsticles, to keep
+dangers from Mary, to protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his
+generous devotion.
+
+[Illustration: BEARING THE BABY PEACE.]
+
+"_But she carried the child on her bosom_. Pondering high things in her
+heart that Joseph had never dreamed of. That is what is wanted now, and
+in the future. The man and the woman walking side by side. He, a little
+ahead mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength and courage.
+She, a carryin' the infant Christ of love, bearin' the baby Peace in her
+bosom, carrying it into safety from them that seek to murder it.
+
+"And, as I said before, if God called woman into this work, He will
+enable her to carry it through. He will protect her from her own
+weaknesses, and from the misapprehensions and hard judgments and
+injustices of a gain-saying world.
+
+"Yes, the star of hope is rising in the sky, brighter and brighter;
+and the wise men are even now coming from afar over the desert, seeking
+diligently where this redeemer is to be found." He sot demute. He did
+not frame a reply: he had no frame, and I knew it. Silence rained for
+some time; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain,--
+
+"Will you do Dorlesky's errents? Will you give her her rights? And will
+you break the Whisky Ring?"
+
+He said he would love to do Dorlesky's errents. He said I had convinced
+him that it would be just and right to do 'em, but the Constitution of
+the United States stood up firm against 'em. As the laws of the United
+State wuz, he could not make any move towards doin' either of the
+errents.
+
+Says I, "Can't the laws be changed?"
+
+"Be changed? Change the laws of the United States? Tamper with the
+glorious Constitution that our 4 fathers left us--an immortal, sacred
+legacy?"
+
+He jumped right up on his feet, in his surprise, and kinder shook, as
+if he was skairt most to death, and tremblin' with borrow. He did it
+to skair me, I knew; and I wuz most skaird, I confess, he acted so
+horrowfied. But I knew I meant well towards the Constitution, and our
+old 4 fathers; and my principles stiddied me, and held me middlin' firm
+and serene. And when he asked me agin in tones full of awe and horrow,--
+
+"Can it be that I heard my ear aright? or did you speak of changing the
+unalterable laws of the United States--tampering with the Constitution?"
+
+Says I, "Yes, that is what I said."
+
+Oh, how his body kinder shook, and how sort o' wild he looked out of his
+eyes at me!
+
+Says I, "Hain't they never been changed?"
+
+He dropped that skairful look in a minute, and put on a firm, judicial
+one. He gin up; he could not skair me to death: and says he,--
+
+"Oh, yes! they have been changed in cases of necessity."
+
+Says I, "For instance, durin' the late war, it was changed to make
+Northern men cheap blood-hounds and hunters."
+
+"Yes," he said. "It seemed to be a case of necessity and econimy."
+
+"I know it," says I. "Men was cheaper than any other breed of
+blood-hounds the planters had employed to hunt men and wimmen with, and
+more faithful."
+
+"Yes," he said. "It was doubtless a case of clear econimy."
+
+And says I, "The laws have been changed to benifit whisky-dealers."
+
+"Wall, yes," he said. "It had been changed to enable whisky-dealers
+to utelize the surplufus liquor they import." Says he, gettin' kinder
+animated, for he was on a congenial theme,--
+
+"Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on
+how much whisky will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the
+whisky-dealers suffer loss, the laws had to be changed.
+
+[Illustration: A CASE OF NECESSITY.]
+
+"And then," says he, growin' still more candid in his excitement, "we
+are makin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the
+tax off of whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greater
+quantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of the
+nation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and the
+laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male
+custodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron
+before it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be,
+faithful unto death."
+
+Says I, "As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said
+I had convinced you that Dorlesky's errents wus errents of truth and
+justice, and you would love to do 'em."
+
+"Well, yes, yes--I would love to--as it were--But really, my dear madam,
+much as I would like to oblige you, I have not the time to devote to it.
+We senators and Congressmen are so driven, and hard-worked, that really
+we have no time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I don't
+think you realize the constant pressure of hard work, that is ageing us,
+and wearing us out, before our day.
+
+"As I said, we have to watch the liquor-interest constantly, to see that
+the liquor-dealers suffer no loss--we _have_ to do that. And then, we
+have to look sharp if we cut down the money for the Indian schools."
+
+Says I, in a sarcastick tone, "I s'pose you worked hard for that."
+
+"Yes," says he, in a sort of a proud tone. "We did, but we men don't
+begrudge labor if we can advance measures of economy. You see, it
+was taking sights of money just to Christianize and civilize
+Injuns--savages. Why, the idea was worse than useless, it wus perfectly
+ruinous to the Indian agents. For if, through those schools, the Indians
+had got to be self-supporting and intelligent and Christians, why, the
+agents couldn't buy their wives and daughters for a yard of calico,
+or get them drunk, and buy a horse for a glass bead, and a farm for a
+pocket lookin'-glass. Well, thank fortune, we carried that important
+measure through; we voted strong; we cut down the money anyway. And
+there is one revenue that is still accruing to the Government--or, as it
+were, the servants of Government, the agents. You see," says he, "don't
+you, just how important the subjects are, that are wearing down the
+Congressional and senatorial mind?"
+
+"Yes," says I sadly, "I see a good deal more than I want to."
+
+"Yes, you see how hard-worked we are. With all the care of the North
+on our minds, we have to clean out all the creeks in the South, so the
+planters can have smooth sailing. But we think," says he dreamily, "we
+think we have saved money enough out of the Indian schools, to clean out
+most of their creeks, and perhaps have a little left for a few New-York
+aldermen, to reward them for their arduous duties in drinking and voting
+for their constituents.
+
+"Then, there is the Mormons: we have to make soothing laws to sooth
+them.
+
+"Then, there are the Chinese. When we send them back into heathendom,
+we ought to send in the ship with them, some appropriate biblical texts,
+and some mottoes emblematical of our national eagle protecting and
+clawing the different nations.
+
+"And when we send the Irish paupers back into poverty and ignorance, we
+ought to send in the same ship, some resolutions condemning England for
+her treatment of Ireland."
+
+Says I, "Most probable the Goddess of Liberty Enlightenin' the World,
+in New-York Harbor, will hold her torch up high, to light such ships on
+their way."
+
+And he said, "Yes, he thought so." Says he, "There is very important
+laws up before the House, now, about hens' eggs--counting them." And
+says he, "Taking it with all those I have spoke of and other kindred
+laws, and the constant strain on our minds in trying to pass laws to
+increase our own salaries, you can see just how cramped we are for
+time. And though we would love to pass some laws of Truth and
+Righteousness,--we fairly ache to,--yet, not having the requisite time,
+we are obliged to lay 'em on the table, or under it."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I guess I might jest a well be a goin'."
+
+I bid him a cool good-bye, and started for the door. I was discouraged;
+but he says as I went out,--
+
+"Mebby William Wallace will do the errent for you."
+
+Says I coldly,--
+
+"William Wallace is dead, and you know it." And says I with a real lot
+of dignity, "You needn't try to impose on me, or Dorlesky's errent, by
+tryin' to send me round amongst them old Scottish chiefs. I respect
+them old chiefs, and always did; and I don't relish any light talk about
+'em."
+
+Says he, "This is another William Wallace; and very probable he can do
+the errent."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I will send the errent to him by Bub Smith; for I am
+wore out."
+
+As I wended, my way out of Mr. Blains'es, I met the hired man, Bub
+Smith's friend; and he asked me,--
+
+"If I didn't want to visit the Capitol?"
+
+Says I, "Where the laws of the United States are made?"
+
+"Yes," says he.
+
+And I told him "that I was very weary, but I would fain behold it."
+
+And he said he was going right by there on business, and he would be
+glad to show it to me. So we walked along in that direction.
+
+It seems that Bub Smith saved the life of his little sister--jumped off
+into the water when she was most drowned, and dragged her out. And from
+that time the two families have thought the world of each other. That is
+what made him so awful good to me.
+
+Wall, I found the Capitol was a sight to behold! Why, it beat any
+buildin' in Jonesville, or Loontown, or Spoon Settlement in beauty and
+size and grandeur. There hain't one that can come nigh it. Why, take all
+the meetin'-housen of these various places, and put 'em all together,
+and put several other meetin'-housen on top of 'em, and they wouldn't
+begin to show off with it.
+
+And, oh! my land! to stand in the hall below, and look up--and up--and
+up--and see all the colors of the rainbow, and see what kinder curious
+and strange pictures there wuz way up there in the sky above me (as it
+were). Why, it seemed curiouser than any Northern lights I ever see in
+my life, and they stream up dretful curious sometimes.
+
+And as I walked through the various lofty and magnificent halls, and
+realized the size and majestic proportions of the buildin', I wondered
+to myself that a small law, a little, unjust law, could ever be passed
+in such a magnificent place.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA VIEWING THE CAPITOL.]
+
+Says I to myself, "It can't be the fault of the place, anyway. They have
+got a chance for their souls to soar if they want to." Thinks'es I, here
+is room and to spare, to pass by laws big as elephants and camels. And
+I wondered to myself that they should ever try to pass laws and
+resolutions as small as muskeeters and nats. Thinks'es I, I wonder
+them little laws don't get to strollin' round and get lost in them
+magnificent corriders. But I consoled myself a thinkin' that it wouldn't
+be no great loss if they did.
+
+But right here, as I was a thinkin' on these deep and lofty subjects,
+the hired man spoke up; and says he,--
+
+"You look fatigued, mom." (Soarin' even to yourself, is tuckerin'.) "You
+look very fatigued: won't you take something?"
+
+I looked at him with a curious, silent sort of a look; for I didn't know
+what he meant.
+
+Agin he looked close at me, and sort o' pityin'; and says he, "You look
+tired out, mom. Won't you take something?"
+
+Says I, "What?"
+
+Says he, "Let me treat you to something: what will you take, mom?"
+
+Wall, I thought he was actin' dretful liberal; but I knew they had
+strange ways there in Washington, anyway. And I didn't know but it was
+their way to make some presents to every woman who come there: and I
+didn't want to be odd, and act awkward, and out of style; so I says,--
+
+"I don't want to take any thing, and I don't see any reason why you
+should insist on it. But, if I have got to take something I had jest as
+lives have a few yards of factory-cloth as any thing."
+
+I thought, if he was determined to treat me, to show his good feelin's
+towards me, I would get somethin' useful, and that would do me some
+good, else what would be the use of bein' treated? And I thought, if I
+had got to take a present from a strange man, I would make a shirt for
+Josiah out of it: I thought that would make it all right, so fur as
+goodness went.
+
+But says he, "I mean beer, or wine, or liquor of some kind."
+
+I jest riz right up in my shoes and my dignity, and glared at him.
+
+Says he, "There is a saloon right here handy in the buildin'."
+
+Says I, in awful axents, "It is very appropriate to have it right here
+handy." Says I, "Liquor does more towards makin' the laws of the United
+States, from caucus to convention, than any thing else does; and it is
+highly proper to have some liquor here handy, so they can soak the laws
+in it right off, before they lay 'em onto the tables, or under 'em, or
+pass 'em onto the people. It is highly appropriate," says I.
+
+"Yes," says he. "It is very handy for the senators. And let me get you a
+glass."
+
+"No, you won't," says I firmly, "no, you won't. The nation suffers
+enough from that room now, without havin' Josiah Allen's wife let in."
+
+Says he (his friendship for Bub Smith makin' him anxious and sot on
+helpin' me), "If you have any feeling of delicacy in going in there, let
+me make some wine here. I will get a glass of water, and make you some
+pure grape wine, or French brandy, or corn or rye whiskey. I have all
+the drugs right here." And he took out a little box out of his pocket.
+"My father is a importer of rare old wines, and I know just how it is
+done. I have 'em all here,--capiscum, coculus Indicus, alum, coperas,
+strychnine. I will make some of the choicest and purest imported liquors
+we have in the country, in five minutes, if you say so."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA REFUSING TO BE TREATED.]
+
+"No," says I firmly. "When I want to follow up Cleopatra's fashion, and
+commit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison as
+she did, on the outside."
+
+"Cleopatra?" says he inquiringly. "Is she a Washington lady?"
+
+And I says guardedly, "She has lots of relations here, I believe."
+
+"Wall," he said, "he thought her name sounded familiar. Then, I can't do
+any thing for you?" he says.
+
+"Yes," says I calmly: "you can open the front door, and let me out."
+
+Which he did, and I was glad enough to get out into the pure air.
+
+When I got back to the house, I found they had been to supper. Sally had
+had company that afternoon,--her husband's brother. He had jest left.
+
+He lived only a few miles away, and had come in on the cars. Sally said
+he wanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some
+deep arguments aginst wimmen's suffrage. Says she, "He talks powerful
+about it: he would have convinced you, without a doubt."
+
+"Wall," says I, "why didn't he stay?"
+
+She said he had to hurry home on account of business. He had come in
+to the village, to get some money. There was goin' to be a lot of men,
+wimmen, and children sold in his neighborhood the next mornin', and he
+thought he should buy a girl, if he could find a likely one.
+
+"Sold?" says I, in curious axents.
+
+"Yes," says Sally. "They sell the inmates of the poor-house, every year,
+to the highest bidder,--sell their labor by the year. They have 'em get
+up on a auction block, and hire a auctioneer, and sell 'em at so much a
+head, to the crowd. Why, some of 'em bring as high as twenty dollars a
+year, besides board.
+
+[Illustration: BUYING TIME.]
+
+"Sometimes, he said, there was quite a run on old wimmen, and another
+year on young ones. He didn't know but he might buy a old woman. He said
+there was an old woman that he thought there was a good deal of work in,
+yet. She had belonged to one of the first families in the State, and
+had come down to poverty late in life, through the death of some of
+her relations, and the villany of others. So he thought she had more
+strength in her than if she had always been worked. He thought, if she
+didn't fetch too big a price, he should buy her instead of a young one.
+They was so balky, he said, young ones was, and would need more to eat,
+bein' growin'. And she could do rough, heavy work, just as well as a
+younger one, and probably wouldn't complain so much; and he thought she
+would last a year, anyway. It was his way, he said, to put 'em right
+through, and, when one wore out, get another one."
+
+I sithed; and says I, "I feel to lament that I wuzn't here so's he could
+have converted me." Says I, "A race of bein's, that make such laws as
+these, hadn't ort to be disturbed by wimmen meddlin' with 'em."
+
+"Yes: that is what he said," says Sally, in a innocent way.
+
+I didn't say no more. Good land! Sally hain't to blame. But with a noble
+scorn filling my eye, and floating out the strings of my head-dress, I
+moved off to bed.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I sent Dorlesky's errents by Bub Smith to William
+Wallace, for I felt a good deal fagged out. Bub did 'em well, and I know
+it.
+
+But William Wallace sent him to Gen. Logan.
+
+And Gen. Logan said Grover Cleveland was the one to go to: he wuz a
+sot man, and would do as he agreed. And Mr. Cleveland sent him to Mr.
+Edmunds.
+
+And Mr. Edmunds told him to go to Samuel G. Tilden, or Roswell P.
+Flower.
+
+And Mr. Flower sent him to William Walter Phelps.
+
+And Mr. Phelps said that Benjamin P. Butler or Mr. Bayard was the one to
+do the errent.
+
+And Mr. Bayard sent him to somebody else, and somebody else sent him to
+another one. And so it went on; and Bub Smith traipsed round, a carryin'
+them errents, from one man to another, till he was most dead.
+
+Why, he carried them errents round all day, walkin' afoot.
+
+Bub said most every one of 'em said the errents wuz just and right, but
+they couldn't do 'em, and wouldn't tell their reasons.
+
+One or two, Bub said, opposed it, because they said right out plain,
+"that they wanted to drink. They wanted to drink every thing they could,
+and everywhere they could,--hard cider and beer, and brandy and whisky,
+and every thing."
+
+And they didn't want wimmen to vote, because they liked to have the
+power in their own hands: they loved to control things, and kinder boss
+round--loved to dearly.
+
+These was open-hearted men who spoke as they felt. But they was
+exceptions. Most every one of 'em said they couldn't do it, and wouldn't
+tell their reasons.
+
+Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein'
+a little in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the
+reasons why the senators wouldn't do the errents.
+
+He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was right
+and just, to their own souls and their own country. He said--for the
+liquor had made him _very_ open-hearted and talkative--that they knew
+the course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime
+against God and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle
+unpopular subjects.
+
+He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them,
+and they knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of
+thousands and thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for
+'em from morn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And
+if wimmen was allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as
+breaking the ring right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though
+they knew that both the errents was jest as right as right could be,
+they dassent tackle 'em, for fear they wouldn't run no chance at all of
+bein' President of the United States.
+
+"Good land!" says I. "What a idee! to think that doin' right would
+make a man unpopular. But," says I, "I am glad to know they have got a
+reason, if it is a poor one. I didn't know but they sent you round jest
+to be mean."
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I told Bub to carry the errents right into the
+Senate. Says I, "You have took 'em one by one, alone, now you jest carry
+'em before the hull batch on 'em together." I told him to tackle the
+hull crew on 'em. So he jest walked right into the Senate, a carryin'
+Dorlesky's errents.
+
+And he come back skairt. He said, jest as he was a carryin' Dorlesky's
+errents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen
+on this very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful,
+to the lawmakers of the land.
+
+And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, and
+called it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you ever
+heard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted
+so haughty and overbearin' towards it, that Bub said he was afraid to
+tackle 'em. He said "he knew they would throw Dorlesky's errents under
+the table, and he was afraid they would throw him under too." He was
+afraid--(he owned it up to me)--he was afraid they would knock him down.
+So he backed out with Dorlesky's errents, and never give it to 'em at
+all.
+
+And I told him he did right. "For," says I, "if they wouldn't listen to
+the deepest, most earnest, and most prayerful words that could come from
+the hearts of thousands and tens of thousands of the best mothers and
+wives and daughters in America, the most intelligent and upright and
+pure-minded women in the land, loaded down with their hopes, wet with
+their tears--if they turned their hearts', prayers and deepest desires
+into ridicule, throwed 'em round under their feet, they wouldn't pay
+no attention to Dorlesky's errents, they wouldn't notice one little
+vegitable widow, humbly at that, and sort o' disagreeable." And says I,
+"I don't want Dorlesky's errents throwed round under foot, and she made
+fun of: she has went through enough trials and tribulations, besides
+these gentlemen--or," says I, "I beg pardon of Webster's Dictionary: I
+meant men."
+
+"For," as I said to Webster's Dictionary in confidence, in a quiet
+thought we had about it afterwards, "they might be gentlemen in every
+other place on earth; but in this one move of theirn," as I observed
+confidentially to the Dictionary, "they was jest _men_--the male animal
+of the human species."
+
+And I was ashamed enough as I looked Noah Webster's steel engraving in
+the face, to think I had misspoke myself, and called 'em gentlemen.
+
+[Illustration: HOW WOMAN'S PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED.]
+
+Wall, from that minute I gin up doin' Dorlesky's errents. And I felt
+like death about it. But this thought held me up,--that I had done my
+best. But I didn't feel like doin' another thing all the rest of that
+day, only jest feel disapinted and grieved over my bad luck with the
+errents. I always think it is best, if you can possibly arrainge it in
+that way, to give up one day, or half a day, to feelin' bad over any
+perticuler disapintment, or to worry about any thing, and do all your
+worryin' up in that time, and then give it up for good, and go to
+feelin' happy agin. It is also best, if you have had a hull lot of
+things to get mad about, to set apart half a day, when you can spare the
+time, and do up all your resentin' in that time. It is easier, and takes
+less time than to keep resentin' 'em as they take place; and you can
+feel clever quicker than in the common way.
+
+Wall, I felt dretful bad for Dorlesky and the hull wimmen race of the
+land, and for the men too. And I kep' up my bad feelin's till pretty
+nigh dusk. But as I see the sun go down, and the sky grow dark, I
+says,--
+
+"You are goin' down now, but you are a comin' up agin. As sure as the
+Lord lives, the sun will shine agin; and He who holds you in His hand,
+holds the destinies of the nations. He will watch over you, and me and
+Josiah, and Dorlesky. He will help us, and take care of us."
+
+So I begun to feel real well agin--a little after dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+The next morning Cicely wuzn't able to leave her room,--no sick
+seemin'ly, but fagged out. She was a delicate little creeter always, and
+seemed to grow delicater every day.
+
+So Miss Smith went with me, and she and I sallied out alone: her name
+bein' Sally, too, made it seem more singuler and coincidin'.
+
+She asked me if I didn't want to go to the Patent Office.
+
+And I told her, "Yes," And I told her of Betsy Bobbet's errent, and that
+Josiah had charged me expresly to go there, and get him a patent pail.
+He needed a new milk-pail, and thought I could get it cheaper right on
+the spot.
+
+And she said that Josiah couldn't buy his pail there. But she told me
+what sights and sights of things there wus to be seen there; and I found
+out when I got there, that she hadn't told me the 1/2 or the 1/4 of the
+sights I see.
+
+Why, I could pass a month there in perfect destraction and happiness,
+the sights are so numerous, and exceedingly destractin' and curious.
+
+But I told Sally Smith plainly, that I wasn't half so much interested in
+apple-parers and snow-plows, and the first sewin'-machine and the last
+one, and steam-engines and hair-pins and pianos and thimbles, and the
+acres and acres of glass cases containing every thing that wus ever
+heard of, and every thing that never wus heard of by anybody, and
+etcetery, etcetery, and so 4th, and so 4th. And you might string them
+words out over choirs and choirs of paper, and not get half an idee of
+what is to be seen there.
+
+But I told her I didn't feel half so interested in them things as I did
+in the copyright. I told Sally plain "that I wanted to see the place
+where the copyrights on books was made. And I wanted to see the man who
+made 'em."
+
+And she asked me "Why? What made me so anxious?"
+
+And I told her "the law was so curious, that I believed it would be the
+curiousest place, and he would be the curiousest lookin' creeter, that
+wuz ever seen." Says I, "I'll bet it will be better than a circus to see
+him."
+
+But it wuzn't. He looked jest like any man. And he had a sort of a
+smart look onto him. Sally said "it was one of the clerks," but I don't
+believe a word of it. I believe it was the man himself, who made the
+law; for, as in all other emergincies of life, I follered Duty, and
+asked him "to change the law instantly."
+
+And he as good as promised me he would.
+
+I talked deep to him about it, but short. I told him Josiah had bought
+a mair, and he expected to own it till he or the mair died. He didn't
+expect to give up his right to it, and let the mair canter off free at a
+stated time.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND SALLY IN THE PATENT OFFICE.]
+
+And he asked me "Who Josiah was?" and I told him.
+
+And I told him that "Josiah's farm run along one side of a pond; and if
+one of his sheep got over on the other side, it was sheep jest the same,
+and it was hisen jest the same: he didn't lose the right to it, because
+it happened to cross the pond."
+
+Says he, "There would be better laws regarding copyright, if it wuzn't
+for selfishness on both sides of the pond."
+
+"Wall," says I, "selfishness don't pay in the long-run." And then,
+thinkin' mebby if I made myself agreable and entertainin', he
+would change the law quicker, I made a effort, and related a little
+interestin' incident that I had seen take place jest before my former
+departure from Jonesville, on a tower.
+
+"No, selfishness don't pay. I have seen it tried, and I know. Now,
+Bildad Henzy married a wife on a speculation. She was a one-legged
+woman. He was attached at the time to a woman with the usual number
+of feet; but he was so close a calculator, that he thought it would be
+money in his pocket to marry this one, for he wouldn't have to buy but
+one shoe and stockin'. But she had to jump round on that one foot,
+and step heavy; so she wore out more shoes than she would if she was
+two-footed." Says I, "Selfishness don't pay in private life or in
+politics."
+
+And he said "He thought jest so," and he jest about the same as promised
+me he would change the law.
+
+I hope he will. It makes me feel so strange every time I think out, as
+strange as strange can be.
+
+Why, I told Sally after we went out, and I spoke about "the man lookin'
+human, and jest like anybody else;" and she said "it was a clerk;" and I
+said "I knew better, I knew it was the man himself."
+
+And says I agin, "It beats all, how anybody in human shape can make such
+a law as that copyright law."
+
+And she said "that was so." But I knew by her mean, that she didn't
+understand a thing about it; and I knew it would make me so sort o'
+light-headed and vacant if I went to explain it to her, that I never
+said a word, and fell in at once with her proposal that we should go
+and see the Treasury, and the Corcoran Art Gallery, and the Smithsonian
+Institute, one at a time.
+
+And I found the Treasury wuz a sight to behold. Such sights and sights
+of money they are makin' there, and a countin'. Why, I s'pose they make
+more money there in a week, than Josiah and I spend in a year.
+
+I s'pose most probable they made it a little faster, and more of it, on
+account of my bein' there. But they have sights and sights of it. They
+are dretful well off.
+
+I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too,--I hain't one of the
+underhanded kind,--I asked her, "If she s'posed they'd let us take hold
+and make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin' over
+with it, there."
+
+And she said, "No, private citizens couldn't do that."
+
+Says I, "Who can?"
+
+She kinder whispered back in a skairt way, sunthin' about "speculators
+and legislators and rings, and etcetery."
+
+But I answered right out loud,--I hain't one to go whisperin'
+round,--and says I,--
+
+"I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had
+for him, he'd hand out a few dollars of his own accord for me to get
+sunthin' to remember him by. Howsumever, I don't need nor want any
+of his money. I hain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over
+fourteen dollars by me, at this present time, egg-money."
+
+But it was a sight to behold, to see 'em make it.
+
+And then, as we stood out on the sidewalk agin, the Smithsonian
+Institute passed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery
+passed through it, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em
+pass; and I says to Sally,--
+
+"Let us go at once and see the man that makes the public schools." Says
+I, "There is a man that I honor, and almost love."
+
+And she said she didn't know who it wuz.
+
+But I think it was the lamb that she had in a bakin', that drew her back
+towards home. She owned up that her hired girl didn't baste it enough.
+
+And she seemed oneasy.
+
+But I stood firm, and says, "I shall see that man, lamb or no lamb."
+
+And then Sally give in. And she found him easy enough. She knew all the
+time, it was the sheep that hampered her.
+
+And, oh! I s'pose it was a sight to be remembered, to see my talk
+to that man. I s'pose, if it had been printed, it would have made a
+beautiful track--and lengthy.
+
+Why, he looked fairly exhausted and cross before I got half through, I
+talked so smart (eloquence is tuckerin').
+
+I told him how our public schools was the hope of the nation. How they
+neutralized to a certain extent the other schools the nation allowed to
+the public,--the grog-shops, and other licensed places of ruin. I told
+him how pretty it looked to me to see Civilization a marchin' along from
+the Atlantic towards the Pacific, with a spellin'-book in one hand, and
+in the other the rosy, which she was a plantin' in place of the briars
+and brambles.
+
+And I told him how highly I approved of compulsory education.
+
+"Why," says I, "if anybody is a drowndin', you don't ask their consent
+to be drawed out of the water, you jest jump in, and yank 'em out. And
+when you see poor little ones, a sinkin' down in the deep waters of
+ignorance and brutality, why, jest let Uncle Sam reach right down, and
+draw 'em out." Says I, "I'll bet that is why he is pictered as havin'
+such long arms for, and long legs too,--so he can wade in if the water
+is deep, and they are too fur from the shore for his arms to reach."
+
+And says I, "In the case of the little Indian, and other colored
+children, he'll need the legs of a stork, the water is so deep round
+'em. But he'll reach 'em, Uncle Sam will. He'll lift 'em right up in his
+long arms, and set 'em safe on the pleasant shore. You'll see that he
+will. Uncle Sam is a man of a thousand."
+
+Says I, "How much it wus like him, to pass that law for children to be
+learnt jest what whisky is, and what it will do. Why," says I, "in that
+very law Christianity has took a longer stride than she could take by
+millions of sermons, all divided off into tenthlies and twentiethlies."
+
+Why, I s'pose I talked perfectly beautiful to that man: I s'pose so.
+
+And if he hadn't had a sudden engagement to go out, I should have talked
+longer. But I see his engagement wus a wearin' on him. His eyes looked
+fairly wild. I only give a bald idee of what I said. I have only give
+the heads of my discussion to him, jest the bald heads.
+
+Wall, after we left there, I told Sally I felt as if I must go and see
+the Peace Commission. I felt as if I must make some arrangements with
+'em to not have any more wars. As I told Sally, "We might jest as well
+call ourselves Injuns and savages at once, if we had to keep up this
+most savage and brutal trait of theirn." Says I firmly, "I _must_,
+before I go back to Jonesville, tend to it." Says I, "I didn't come here
+for fashion, or dry-goods; though I s'pose lots of both of 'em are to
+be got here." Says I, "I may tend to one or two fashionable parties, or
+levys as I s'pose they call 'em here. I may go to 'em ruther than hurt
+the feelin's of the upper 10. I want to do right: I don't want to hurt
+the feelin's of them 10. They have hearts, and they are sensitive.
+I don't think I have ever took to them 10, as much as I have to some
+others; but I wish 'em well.
+
+"And I s'pose you see as grand and curious people to their parties here,
+as you can see together in any other place on the globe.
+
+"I s'pose it is a sight to behold, to see 'em together. To see them, as
+the poet says, 'To the manner born,' and them that wasn't born in
+the same manor, but tryin' to act as if they was. Wealth and display,
+natural courtesy and refinement, walkin' side by side with pretentius
+vulgarity, and mebby poverty bringin' up the rear. Genius and folly,
+honesty and affectation, gentleness and sweetness, and brazen impudence,
+and hatred and malice, and envy and uncharitableness. All languages and
+peoples under the sun, and differing more than stars ever did, one from
+another.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AT THE PRESIDENT'S RECEPTION.]
+
+"And what makes it more curious and mysterius is, the way they dress,
+some on 'em. Why, they say--it has come right straight to me by them
+that know--that the ladies wear what they call full dress; and the
+strange and mysterius part of it is, that the fuller the dress is, the
+less they have on 'em.
+
+"This is a deep subject, and queer; and I don't s'pose you will take my
+word for it, and I don't want you to. But I have been _told_ so.
+
+"Why, I s'pose them upper 10 have their hands full, their 20 hands
+completely full. I fairly pity 'em--the hull 10 of 'em. They want me,
+and they need me, I s'pose, and I must tend to some of 'em.
+
+"And then," says I, "I did calculate to pay some attention to
+store-clothes. I did want to get me a new calico dress,--London brown
+with a set flower on it. But I can do without that dress, and the upper
+10 can do without me, better than the Nation can do without Peace."
+
+I felt as if I must tend to it: I fairly hankered to do away with war,
+immejiately and to once. But I knew right was right, and I felt
+that Sally ort to be let to tend to her lamb; so Sally and I sallied
+homewards.
+
+But the hired girl had tended to it well. It wus good--very good.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Wall, the next mornin' Cicely wus better, and we sot sail for Mount
+Vernon. It was about ten o'clock A.M. when I, accompanied by Cicely and
+the boy, sot sail from Washington, D.C., to perform about the ostensible
+reason of my tower,--to weep on the tomb of the noble G. Washington.
+
+My intentions had been and wuz, to weep for him on my tower. I had come
+prepared. 2 linen handkerchiefs and a large cotton one reposed in the
+pocket of my polenay, and I had on my new waterproof. I never do things
+by the 1/2s.
+
+It was a beautiful seen, as we floated down the still river, to look
+back and see the Capitol risin' white and fair like a dream, the
+glitterin' snow of the monument, and the green heights, all bathed in
+the glory of that perfect May mornin'. It wuz a fair seen.
+
+Happy groups of people sot on the peaceful decks,--stately gentlemen,
+handsome ladies, and pretty children. And in one corner, off kinder by
+themselves, sot that band of dusky singers, whose songs have delighted
+the world. Modest, good-lookin' dark girls, manly, honest-lookin' dark
+boys.
+
+Only a few short years ago this black people was drove about like dumb
+cattle,--bought and sold, hunted by blood-hounds; the wimmen hunted to
+infamy and ruin, the men to torture and to death. The wimmen denied the
+first right of womanhood, to keep themselves pure. The men denied the
+first right of manhood, to protect the ones they loved. Deprived legally
+of purity and honor, and all the rights of commonest humanity--worn with
+unpaid toil, beaten, whipped, tortured, dispised and rejected of men.
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MOUNT VERNON.]
+
+Now, a few short years have passed over this dark race, and these
+children of slaves that I looked upon have been guests of the proudest
+and noblest in this and in foreign lands. Hands that hold the destinies
+of mighty empires have clasped theirs in frankest friendship, and
+crowned heads have bowed low before 'em to hide the tears their sweet
+voices have called forth. What feelin's I felt as I looked on 'em! and
+my soul burned inside of me, almost to the extent of settin' my polenay
+on fire, a thinkin' of all this.
+
+And pretty soon, right when I was a reveryin'--right there, when we wuz
+a floatin' clown the still waters, their voices riz up in one of their
+inspired songs. They sung about their "Hard Trials," and how the "Sweet
+Chariot swung low," and how they had "Been Redeemed."
+
+And I declare for't, as I listened to 'em, there wuzn't a dry eye in my
+head; and I wet every one of them 3 handkerchiefs that I had calculated
+to mourn for G. Washington on, wet as sop. But I didn't care. I knew
+that George had rather not be mourned for on dry handkerchiefs, than
+that I should stent myself in emotions in such a time as this. He loved
+Liberty himself, and fit for it. And anyway, I didn't sense what I was
+a doin', not a mite. I took out them handkerchiefs entirely unbeknown to
+me, and put 'em back unbeknown.
+
+The words of them songs hain't got hardly any sense, as we earthly
+bein's count sense; there are scores of great singers, whose trained
+voices are a hundred-fold more melodious: but these simple strains move
+us, thrill us; they jest get right inside of our hearts and souls, and
+take full possession of us.
+
+It seems as if nothin' human of so little importance could so move us.
+Is it God's voice that speaks to us through them? Is it His Spirit that
+lifts us up, sways us to and fro, that blows upon us, as we listen to
+their voices? The Spirit that come down to cheer them broken hearts,
+lift them up in their captivity, does it now sway and melt the hearts
+of their captors? We read of One who watches over His sorrowing, wronged
+people, givin' them "songs in the night."
+
+Anon, or nearly at that time, a silver bell struck out a sweet sort of
+a mournful note; and we jest stood right in towards the shore, and
+disembarked from the bark.
+
+We clomb the long hill, and stood on top, with powerful emotions (but
+little or no breath); stood before the iron bars that guarded the tomb
+of George Washington, and Martha his wife.
+
+I looked at the marble coffin that tried to hold George, and felt
+how vain it wuz to think that any tomb could hold him. That peaceful,
+tree-covered hill couldn't hold his tomb. Why, it wuz lifted up in every
+land that loved freedom. The hull liberty-lovin' earth wuz his tomb and
+his monument.
+
+And that great river flowin' on and on at his feet--as long as that
+river rolls, George Washington shall float on it, he and his faithful
+Martha. It shall bear him to the sea and the ocian, and abroad to every
+land.
+
+Oh! what feelin's I felt as I stood there a reveryin', my body still,
+but my mind proudly soarin'! To think, he wuz our Washington, and that
+time couldn't kill him. For he shall walk through the long centuries to
+come. He shall bear to the high chamber of prince and ruler, memories
+that shall blossom into deeds, awaken souls, rouse powers that shall
+never die, that shall scatter blessings over lands afar, strike the
+fetters from slave and serf.
+
+The hands they folded over his peaceful breast so many years ago, are
+not lying there in that marble coffin: the calm blue eyes closed so many
+years ago, are still lookin' into souls. Those hands lift the low walls
+of the poor boy's chamber, as he reads of victory over tyranny, of
+conquerin' discouragement and defeat.
+
+[Illustration: BEFORE THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+The low walls fade away; the dusky rafters part to admit the infinite,
+infinite longin's to do and dare, infinite resolves to emulate those
+deeds of valor and heroism. How the calm blue eyes look down into the
+boy's impassioned soul, how the shadowy hands beckon him upward, up the
+rocky heights of noble endeavor, noble deeds! How the inspiration of
+this life, these deeds of might and valor, nerve the young heart for
+future strivings for freedom and justice and truth!
+
+Is it not a blessed thing to thus live on forever in true, eager hearts,
+to nerve the hero's arm, to inspire deeds of courage and daring? The
+weary body may rest; but to do this, is surely not to die; no, it is
+to live, to be immortal, to thus become the beating heart, the living,
+struggling, daring soul of the future.
+
+And right while I was thinkin' these thoughts, and lookin' off over the
+still landscape, the peaceful waters, this band of dark singers stood
+with reverent faces and uncovered heads, and begun singin' one of their
+sweetest melodies,--
+
+"He rose, he rose, he rose from the dead."
+
+Oh! as them inspired, hantin' notes rose through the soft, listenin'
+air, and hanted me, walked right round inside my heart and soul, and
+inspired me--why! how many emotions I did have,--more'n 85 a minute
+right along!
+
+As I thought of how many times since the asscension of our Lord, tombs
+have opened, and the dead come forth alive; how Faith and Justice will
+triumph in the end; how you can't bury 'em deep enough, or roll a stun
+big enough and hard enough before the door, but what, in some calm
+mornin', the earliest watcher shall see a tall, fair angel standin'
+where the dead has lain, bearin' the message of the risen Lord, "He rose
+from the dead."
+
+I thought how George W. and our other old 4 fathers thought in the long,
+toilsome, weary hours before the dawnin', that fair Freedom was dead;
+but she rose, she rose.
+
+I thought how the dusky race whose sweet songs was a floatin' round the
+grave of him who loved freedom, and gave his life for it; I thought
+how, durin' the dreary time when they was captives in a strange land,
+chained, scourged, and tortured, how they thought, through this long,
+long night of years, that Justice was dead, and Mercy and Pity and
+Righteousness.
+
+But there come a glorious mornin' when fathers and mothers clasped their
+children in their arms, their own once more, in arms that was their own,
+to labor and protect, and they sung together of Freedom and Right, how
+though they wuz buried deep, and the night wuz long, and the watchers
+by the tomb weary, weary unto death, yet they rose, they rose from the
+dead.
+
+And then I thought of the tombs that darken our land to-day, where the
+murdered, the legally murdered, lay buried. I thought of the graves more
+hopeless fur than them that entomb the dead,--the graves where lay the
+livin' dead. Dead souls bound to still breathin' bodies, dead hopes,
+ambitions, dead dreams of usefulness and respectability, happiness, dead
+purity, faith, honor, dead, all dead, all bound to the still breathin'
+body, by the festerin', putrid death-robes of helplessness and despair.
+
+There they lie chained to their dark tombs by links slight at first,
+but twisted by the hard old fingers of blind habit, to chains of iron,
+chains linked about, and eatin' into, not only the quiverin' flesh, but
+the frenzied brains, the hope less hearts, the ruined souls.
+
+Heavy, hopeless-lookin' vaults they are indeed, whose air is putrid with
+the sickenin' miasma of moral loathsomness and deseese; whose walls are
+painted with hideous pictures of murder, rapine, lust, starvation, woe,
+and despair, earthly and eternal ruin. Shapes of the dreadful past, the
+hopeless future, that these livin' dead stare upon with broodin' frenzy
+by night and by day.
+
+Oh the tombs, the countless, countless tombs, where lie these breathin'
+corpses! How mothers weep over them! how wives kneel, and beat their
+hearts out on the rocky barriers that separate them from their hearts'
+love, their hearts' desire! How little starvin', naked children cower in
+their ghostly shadows through dark midnights! How fathers weep for their
+children, dead to them, dead to honor, to shame, to humanity! How the
+cries of the mourners ascend to the sweet heavens!
+
+And less peaceful than the graves of the departed, these tombs
+themselves are full of the hopeless cries of the entombed, praying for
+help, praying for some strong hand to reach down and lift them out of
+their reeking, polluted, living death.
+
+The whole of our fair land is covered with jest such graves: its turf is
+tread down by the footprints of the mourners who go about the streets.
+They pray, they weep: the night is long, is long. But the morning will
+dawn at last.
+
+And the women,--daughters, wives, mothers,--who kneel with clasped
+hands beside the tombs, heaviest-eyed, deepest mourners, because most
+helpless. Lift up your heavy eyes: the sun is even now rising, that
+shall gild the sky at last. The mornin' light is even now dawnin' in the
+east. It shall fall first upon your uplifted brows, your prayerful eyes.
+Most blessed of God, because you loved most, sorrowed most. To you shall
+it be given to behold first the tall, fair angel of Resurection and
+Redemption, standin' at the grave's mouth. Into your hands shall be put
+the key to unlock the heavy doors, where your loved has lain.
+
+The dead shall rise. Temperance and Justice and Liberty shall rise.
+They shall go forth to bless our fair land. And purified and enobled,
+it shall be the best beloved, the fairest land of God beneath the sun.
+Refuge of the oppressed and tempted, inspiration of the hopeless, light
+of the world.
+
+And free mothers shall clasp their free children to their hearts; and
+fathers and mothers and children shall join in one heavenly strain, song
+of freedom and of truth. And the nations shall listen to hear how "they
+rose, they rose, they rose from the dead."
+
+As the tones of the sweet hymn died on the soft air, and the blessed
+vision passed with it; when I come down onto my feet,--for truly, I had
+been lifted up, and by the side of myself,--Cicely was standin' with her
+brown eyes lookin' over the waters, holdin' the hand of the boy; and I
+see every thing that the song did or could mean, in the depths of her
+deep, prophetic eyes. Sad eyes, too, they was, and discouraged; for the
+morning wus fur away--and--and the boy wus pullin' at her hand, eager to
+get away from where he wus.
+
+The boy led us; and we follered him up the gradual hill to the old
+homestead of Washington, Mount Vernon.
+
+Lookin' down from the broad, high porch, you can look directly down
+through the trees into the river. The water calm and sort o' golden,
+through the green of the trees, and every thing looked peaceful and
+serene.
+
+There are lots of interestin' things to be seen here,--the tombs of the
+rest of the Washington family; the key of the Bastile, covered with the
+blood and misery of a foreign land; the tree that carries us back in
+memory to his grave, where he rests quietly, who disturbed the sleep of
+empires and kingdoms; the furniture of Washington and his family,--the
+chairs they sot in, the tables they sot at, and the rooms where
+they sot; the harpiscord, that Nelly Custis and Mrs. G. Washington
+harpiscorded on.
+
+But she whose name wus once Smith longed to see somethin' else fur more.
+What wus it?
+
+It wus not the great drawin'-rooms, the guest-chambers, the halls, the
+grounds, the live-stock, nor the pictures, nor the flowers.
+
+No: it wus the old garret of the mansion, the low old garret, where she
+sot, our Lady Washington, in her widowed dignity, with no other fire
+only the light of deathless love that lights palace or hovel,--sot there
+in the window, because she could look out from it upon the tomb of her
+mighty dead.
+
+Sot lookin' out upon the river that wus sweepin' along under sun and
+moon, bearing on every wave and ripple the glory and beauty of his name.
+
+Bearing it away from her mebby, she would sometimes sadly think, as she
+thought of happy days gone by; for though souls may soar, hearts will
+cling. And sometimes storms would vex the river's unquiet breast; and
+mebby the waves would whisper to her lovin' heart, "Never more, never
+more."
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD HOME OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+As she sot there looking out, waiting for that other river, whose waves
+crept nearer and nearer to her feet,--that other river, on which her
+soul should sail away to meet her glorious dead; that river which
+whispers "Forever, forever;" that river which is never unquiet, and
+whose waves are murmuring of nothing less beautiful than of meeting, of
+love, and of lasting repose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+When we got back from Mount Vernon, and entered our boardin'-house,
+Cicely went right up to her room. But I, feelin' kinder beat out
+(eloquent emotions are very tuckerin' on a tower), thought I would set
+down a few minutes in the parlor to rest, before I mounted up the stairs
+to my room.
+
+But truly, as it turned out, I had better have gone right up, breath or
+no breath.
+
+For, while I was a settin' there, a tall, sepulchral lookin' female,
+that I had noticed at the breakfast-table, come up to me; and says
+she,--
+
+"I beg your pardon, mom, but I believe you are the noble and eloquent
+Josiah Allen's wife, and I believe you are a stoppin' here."
+
+Says I calmly, "I hain't a stoppin'--I am stopped, as it were, for a few
+days."
+
+"Wall," says she, "a friend of mine is comin' to-night, to my room,
+No. 17, to give a private seansy. And knowin' you are a great case to
+investigate into truths, I thought mebby you would love to come, and
+witness some of our glorious spirit manifestations."
+
+I thanked her for her kindness, but told her "I guessed I wouldn't go. I
+didn't seem to be sufferin' for a seancy."
+
+"Oh!" says she: "it is wonderful, wonderful to see. Why, we will tie the
+medium up, and he will ontie himself."
+
+"Oh!" says I. "I have seen that done, time and agin. I used to tie
+Thomas J. up when he was little, and naughty; and he would, in spite of
+me, ontie himself, and get away."
+
+"Who is Thomas J.?" says she.
+
+"Josiah's child by his first wife," says I.
+
+"Wall," says she, "if we have a good circle, and the conditions are
+favorable, the spirits will materialize,--come before us with a body."
+
+"Oh!" says I. "I have seen that. Thomas J. used to dress up as a ghost,
+and appear to us. But he didn't seem to think the conditions wus so
+favorable, and he didn't seem to appear so much, after his father
+ketched him at it, and give him a good whippin'." And says I firmly, "I
+guess that would be about the way with your ghosts."
+
+And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o'
+pitiful,--to go to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my
+remark, for she seemed to be a gazin' upward in a sort of a muse; and
+she says,--
+
+"Oh! would you not like to talk with your departed kindred?"
+
+"Wall, yes," says I firmly, after a minute's thought. "I would like to."
+
+"Come to-night to our seansy, and we will call 'em, and you shall talk
+with 'em."
+
+"Wall," says I candidly, "to tell the truth, bein' only wimmen present,
+I'll tell you, I have got to mend my petticoat to-night. My errents have
+took me round to such a extent, that it has got all frayed out round the
+bottom, and I have got to mend the fray. But, if any of my kindred are
+there, you jest mention it to 'em that she that wuz Samantha Smith is
+stopped at No. 16, and, if perfectly convenient, would love to see
+'em. I can explain it to 'em," says I, "bein' all in the family, why I
+couldn't leave my room."
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON S GHOST.]
+
+Says she, "You are makin' fun: you don't believe they will be there, do
+you?"
+
+"Wall, to be honest with you, it looks dubersome to me. It does seem to
+me, that if my father or mother sot out from the other world, and come
+down to this boardin'-house, to No. 17, they would know, without havin'
+to be told, that I was in the next room to 'em; and they wouldn't want
+to stay with a passel of indifferent strangers, when their own child was
+so near."
+
+"You don't believe in the glorious manifestations of our seansys?" says
+she.
+
+"Wall, to tell you the plain truth, I don't seem to believe 'em to any
+great extent. I believe, if God wants to speak to a human soul below,
+He can, without any of your performances and foolishness; and when I say
+performences and when I say foolishness, I say 'em in very polite ways:
+and I don't want to hurt anybody's feelin's by sayin' things hain't so,
+but I simply state my belief."
+
+"Don't you believe in the communion of saints? Don't you believe God
+ever reveals himself to man?"
+
+"Yes, I do! I believe that now, as in the past, the pure in heart shall
+see God. Why, heaven is over all, and pretty nigh to some."
+
+And I thought of Cicely, and couldn't help it.
+
+"I believe there are pure souls, especially when they are near to the
+other world, who can look in, and behold its beauty. Why, it hain't but
+a little ways from here,--it can't be, sense a breath of air will blow
+us into it. It takes sights of preparation to get ready to go, but it is
+only a short sail there. And you may go all over the land from house
+to house, and you will hear in almost every one of some dear friend who
+died with their faces lit up with the glow of the light shinin' from
+some one of the many mansions,--the dear home-light of the fatherland;
+died speakin' to some loved one, gone before. But I don't believe you
+can coax that light, and them voices, down into a cabinet, and let 'em
+shine and speak, at so much an evenin'."
+
+"I thought," says she bitterly, "that you was one who never condemned
+any thing that you hadn't thoroughly investigated."
+
+"I don't," says I. "I don't condemn nothin' nor nobody. I only tell my
+mind. I don't say there hain't no truth in it, because I don't know;
+and that is one of the best reasons in the world for not sayin' a thing
+hain't so. When you think how big a country the land of Truth is, and
+how many great unexplored regions lay in it, why should Josiah Allen's
+wife stand and lean up aginst a tree on the outmost edge of the
+frontier, and say what duz and what duzn't lay hid in them mysterius and
+beautiful regions that happier eyes than hern shall yet look into?
+
+"No: the great future is the fulfillment of the prophecies, and blind
+gropin's of the present; and it is not for me, nor Josiah, nor anybody
+else, to talk too positive about what we hain't seen, and don't know.
+
+"No: nor I hain't one to say it is the Devil's work, not claimin' such a
+close acquaintance with the gentleman named, as some do, who profess
+to know all his little social eccentricities. But I simply say, and say
+honest, that I hain't felt no drawin's towards seancys, nor felt like
+follerin' 'em up. But I am perfectly willin' you should have your own
+idees, and foller 'em."
+
+"Do you believe angels have appeared to men?"
+
+"Yes, mom, I do. But I never heard of a angel bein' stanchelled up in a
+box-stall, and let out of it agin at stated times, like a yearlin' colt.
+(Excuse my metafor, mom, I am country bred and born.) And no angel that
+I ever heard on, has been harnessed and tackled up with any ropes or
+strings whatsoever. No! whenever we hear of angels appearin' to men,
+they have flown down, white-winged and radiant, right out of the
+heavens, which is their home, and appeared to men, entirely unbeknown
+to them. That is the way they appeared to the shephards at Bethlahem, to
+the disciples on the mountain, to the women at the tomb."
+
+"Don't you believe they could come jest as well now?"
+
+"I don't say they couldn't. There is no place in the Bible, that I know
+of, where it says they shall never appear agin to man. But I s'pose, in
+the days I speak of, when the One Pure Heart was upon earth, Earth and
+Heaven drew nearer together, as it were,--the divine and the human. And
+if we now draw Heaven nearer to us by better, purer lives, who knows,"
+says I dreamily (forgettin' the mejum, and other trials), "who knows but
+what we might, in some fair day, look up into the still heavens, and see
+through the clear blue, in the distance, a glimpse of the beautiful city
+of the redeemed?
+
+"Who knows," says I, "if we lived for Heaven, as Jennie Dark lived for
+her country, in the story I have heard Thomas J. read about, but we
+might, like her, see visions, and hear voices, callin' us to heavenly
+duties? But," says I, findin' and recoverin' myself, "I don't see no use
+in a seansy to help us."
+
+"Don't you admit that there is strange doin's at these seansys?"
+
+"Yes," says I. "I never see one myself; but, from what I have heard of
+'em, they are very strange."
+
+"Don't you think there are things done that seem supernatural?"
+
+"I don't know as they are any more supernatural than the telegraph
+and telefone and electric light, and many other seemin'ly supernatural
+works. And who knows but there may still be some hidden powers in nature
+that is the source of what you call supernatural?"
+
+"Why not believe, with us, voices from Heaven speak through these
+means?"
+
+"Because it looks dubersome to me--dretful dubersome. It don't look
+reasonable to me, that He, the mighty King of heaven and earth, would
+speak to His children through a senseless Indian jargon, or impossible
+and blasphemous speeches through a first sphere."
+
+"You say you believe God has spoken to men, and why not now?"
+
+"I tell you, I don't know but He duz. But I don't believe it is in that
+manner. Way back to the creation, when we read of God's speakin' to man,
+the voice come directly down from heaven to their souls.
+
+"In the hush of the twilight, when every thing was still and peaceful,
+and Adam was alone, then he heard God's voice. He didn't have to wait
+for favorable conditions, or set round a table; for, what is more
+convincin', I don't believe he had a table to set round.
+
+"In the dreary lonesomeness of the great desert, God spoke to the
+heart-broken Hagar. She didn't have to try any tests to call down the
+spirits. Clear and sudden out of heaven come the Lord's voice speaking
+to her soul in comfort and in prophecy, and her eyes was opened, and she
+saw waters flowin' in the midst of the desert.
+
+"Up on the mountain top, God's voice spoke to Abraham; and Lot in the
+quiet of evening, at the tent's door, received the angelic visitants.
+Sudden, unbeknown to them, they come. They didn't have to put nobody
+into a trance, nor holler, so we read.
+
+"In the hush of the temple, through the quiet of her motherly dreams,
+Hannah heard a voice. Hannah didn't have to say, 'If you are a spirit,
+rap so many times.' No: she knew the voice. God prepares the listenin'
+soul His own self. 'They know my voice,' so the Lord said.
+
+"Daniel and the lions didn't have to 'form a circle' for him to see
+the one in shinin' raiment. No: the angel guest came down from heaven
+unbidden, and appeared to Daniel alone, in peril; and as he stood by
+the 'great river,' it said, 'Be strong, be strong!' preparin' him for
+conflict. And Daniel was strengthened, so the Bible says.
+
+"God's hand is not weaker to-day, and His conflicts are bein' waged on
+many a battle-field. And I dare not say that He does not send His angels
+to comfort and sustain them who from love to Him go out into rightous
+warfare. But I don't believe they come through a seansy. I don't,
+honestly. I don't believe Daniel would have felt strengthened a mite, by
+seein' a materialized rag-baby hung out by a wire in front of a hemlock
+box, and then drawed back sudden.
+
+[Illustration: HEAVENLY VISITORS.]
+
+"No: Adam and Enoch, and Mary and Paul and St. John, didn't have to say,
+before they saw the heavenly guests, 'If you are a spirit, manifest it
+by liftin' up some table-legs.' And they didn't have to tie a mejum into
+a box before they could hear God's voice. No: we read in the Bible of
+eight different ones who come back from death, and appeared to their
+friends, besides the many who came forth from their graves at Jerusalem.
+But they didn't none of 'em come in this way from round under tables,
+and out of little coops, and etcetery.
+
+"And as it was in the old days, so I believe it is to-day. I believe, if
+God wants to speak to a human soul, livin' or dead, He don't _need_ the
+help of ropes and boxes and things. It don't look reasonable to think He
+_has_ to employ such means. And it don't look reasonable to me to think,
+if He wants to speak to one of His children in comfort or consolation,
+He will try to drive a hard bargain with 'em, and make 'em pay from
+fifty cents to a dollar to hear Him, children half price. Howsomever,
+everybody to their own opinions."
+
+"You are a unbeliever," says she bitterly.
+
+"Yes, mom: I s'pose I am. I s'pose I should be called Samantha Allen,
+U.S., which Stands, Unbeliever in Spiritual Seansys, and also United
+States. It has a noble, martyrous look to me," says I firmly. "It makes
+me think of my errent."
+
+She tosted her head in a high-headed way, which is gaulin' in the
+extreme to see in another female. And she says,--
+
+"You are not receptive to truth."
+
+I s'pose she thought that would scare me, but it didn't. I says,--
+
+"I believe in takin' truth direct from God's own hand and revelation.
+But I don't have any faith in modern spiritual seansys. They seem to
+me,--and I would say it in a polite, courtous way, for I wouldn't
+hurt your feelin's for the world,--all mixed up with modern greed and
+humbug."
+
+But, if you'll believe it, for all the pains I took to be almost
+over-polite to her, and not say a word to hurt her feelin's, that woman
+acted mad, and flounced out of the room as if she was sent.
+
+Good land! what strange creeters there are in the world, anyway!
+
+Wall, I had fairly forgot that the boy wus in the room. But 1,000 and 5
+is a small estimate of the questions he asked me after she went out.
+
+"What a seansy was? And did folks appear there? And would his papa
+appear if he should tie himself up in a box? And if I would be sorry if
+his papa didn't appear, if he didn't appear? And where the folks went
+to that I said, come out of their graves? And did they die again? Or did
+they keep on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'? And if I wished I could
+keep on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'?"
+
+Good land! it made me feel wild as a loon, and Cicely put the boy to
+bed.
+
+But I happened to go into the bedroom for something; and he opened his
+eyes, and says he,--
+
+"_Say_! if the dead live men's little boys that had grown up and lived
+and died before their pa's come out, would they come out too? and would
+the dead live men know that they was their little boys? and _say_"--
+
+But I went out immegiatly, and s'pose he went to sleep.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I got up feelin' kinder mauger. I felt sort
+o' weary in my mind as well as my body. For I had kep' up a powerful
+ammount of thinkin' and medetatin'. Mebby right when I would be a
+talkin' and a smilin' to folks about the weather or literatoor or any
+thing, my mind would be hard at work on problems, and I would be a
+takin' silent observations, and musin' on what my eyes beheld.
+
+[Illustration: "SAY!"]
+
+And I had felt more and more satisfied of the wisdom of the conclusion
+I reached on my first interview with Allen Arthur,--that I dast not, I
+dast not let my companion go from me into Washington.
+
+No! I felt that I dast not, as his mind was, let him go into temptation.
+
+I felt that he wanted to make money out of the Government I loved; and
+after I had looked round me, and observed persons and things, I felt
+that he would do it.
+
+I felt that _I_ dast not let him go.
+
+I knew that he wanted to help them that helped him, without no deep
+thought as to the special fitness of uncle Nate Gowdy and Ury Henzy for
+governmental positions. And after I had enquired round a little, and
+considered the heft of his mind, and the weight of example, I felt he
+would do it.
+
+And I _dast_ not let him go.
+
+And, though I knew his hand was middlin' free now, still I realized that
+other hands just as free once had had rings slipped into 'em, and was
+led by 'em whithersoever the ring-makers wished to lead them.
+
+I dast _not_ let him go.
+
+I knew that now his morals, though small (he don't weigh more'n a
+hundred,--bones, moral sentiments, and all), was pretty sound and firm,
+the most of the time. But the powerful winds that blew through them
+broad streets of Washington from every side, and from the outside, and
+from the under side, powerful breezes, some cold, and some powerful hot
+ones--why, I felt that them small morals, more than as likely as not,
+would be upsot, and blowed down, and tore all to pieces.
+
+I dast not _let_ him go.
+
+I knew he was willin' to buy votes. If willin' to buy,--the fearful
+thought hanted me,--mebby he would be willin' to sell; and, the more I
+looked round and observed, the more I felt that he would.
+
+I felt that I dast not let _him_ go.
+
+No, no! I dast not let him _go_.
+
+I was a musin' on this thought at the breakfast-table where I sot with
+Cicely, the boy not bein' up. I was settin' to the table as calm and
+cool as my toast (which was _very_ cool), when the hired man brought me
+a letter; and I opened it right there, for I see by the post-mark it
+was from my Josiah. And I read as follers, in dismay and anguish, for I
+thought he was crazy:--
+
+MI DEER WYF,--Kum hum, I hav got a crik in mi bak. Kum hum, mi deer Sam,
+kum hum, or I shal xpire. Mi gord has withurd, mi plan has faled, I am a
+undun Josire. Tung kant xpres mi yernin to see u. I kant tak no kumfort
+lookin at ure kam fisiognimy in ure fotogrof, it maks mi hart ake, u luk
+so swete, I fere u hav caut a bo. Kum hum, kum hum.
+
+Ure luvin kompanien,
+
+JOSIRE.
+
+vers ov poetry.
+
+  Mi krik is bad, mi ink is pale:
+  Mi luv for u shal never fale.
+
+I dropt my knife and fork (I had got about through eatin', anyway), and
+hastened to my room. Cicely followed me, anxious-eyed, for I looked bad.
+
+I dropped into a chair; and almost buryin' my face in my white linen
+handkerchief, I give vent to some moans of anguish, and a large number
+of sithes. And Cicely says,--
+
+"What is the matter, aunt Samantha?"
+
+And I says,--
+
+"Your poor uncle! your poor uncle!"
+
+"What is the matter with him?" says she.
+
+And I says, "He is crazy as a loon. Crazy and got a creek, and I must
+start for home the first thing in the mornin'."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S SORROW.]
+
+She says, "What do you mean?" and then I showed her the letter, and says
+as I did so,--
+
+"He has had too much strain on his mind, for the size of it. His plans
+have been too deep. He has grappled with too many public questions.
+I ortn't to have left him alone with politics. But I left him for his
+good. But never, never, will I leave that beloved man agin, crazy, or no
+crazy, creek, or no creek.
+
+"Oh!" says I, "will he never, never more be conscious of the presence of
+the partner of his youth and middle age? Will he never realize the deep,
+constant love that has lightened up our pathway?"
+
+I wept some. But I thought that mebby he would know my cream biscuit and
+other vittles, I felt that he would re_cog_nise them.
+
+But by this time Cicely had got the letter read through; and she said
+"he wuzn't crazy, it was the new-fashioned way of spelling;" she said
+she had seen it; and so I brightened up, and felt well: though, as I
+told her,--
+
+"The creek would drive me home in the mornin'." Says I, "Duty and Love
+draws me, a willin' captive, to the side of my sufferin' Josiah. I shall
+go home on that creek." Says I, "Woman's first duty is to the man she
+loves." Says I, "I come here on that duty, and on that duty I shall go
+back, and the creek."
+
+Cicely didn't feel as if she could go the next day, for there was to be
+a great meetin' of the friends of temperance, in a few days, there; and
+she wanted to attend to it; she wanted to help all she could; and then,
+there wus a person high in influence that she wanted to converse with
+on the subject. That good little thing was willin' to do _any thing_ for
+the sake of the boy and the Right.
+
+But I says to her, "I _must_ go, for that word 'plan' worrys me; it
+worrys me far more than the creek: and I see my partner is all unstrung,
+and I must be there to try to string him up agin."
+
+So it wus decided, that I should start in the morning, and Cicely come
+on in a few days: she was all boyed up with the thought that at this
+meetin' she could get some help and hope for the boy.
+
+But, after Cicely went to bed, I sot there, and got to thinkin' about
+the new spellin', and felt that I approved of it. My mind is such that
+_instantly_ I can weigh and decide.
+
+I took some of these words, photograph, philosophy, etc., in one hand,
+and in the other I took filosify and fotograf; and as I hefted 'em, I
+see the latter was easier to carry. I see they would make our language
+easier to learn by children and foreigners; it would lop off a lot
+of silent letters of no earthly use; it would make far less labor in
+writin', in printin', in cost of type, and would be better every way.
+
+Cicely said a good many was opposed to it on account of bein' attached
+to the old way. But I don't feel so, though I love the old things with a
+love that makes my heart ache sometimes when changes come. But my reason
+tells me that it hain't best to be attached to the old way if the new is
+better.
+
+Now, I s'pose our old 4 fathers was attached to the idee of hitchin' an
+ox onto a wagon, and ridin' after it. And our old 4 mothers liked the
+idee of bein' perched up on a pillion behind the old 4 fathers. I s'pose
+they hated the idee of gettin' off of that pillion, and onhitchin' that
+ox. But they had to, they had to get down, and get up into phaetons and
+railway cars, and steamboats.
+
+And I s'pose them old 4 people (likely creeters they wuz too) hated the
+idee of usin' matches; used to love to strike fire with a flint, and
+trample off a mild to a neighber's on January mornin's (and their
+mornin's was _very_ early) to borrow some coals if they had lost their
+flint. I s'pose they had got attached to that flint, some of 'em, and
+hated to give it up, thought it would be lonesome. But they had to; and
+the flint didn't care, it knew matches was better. The calm, everlasting
+forces of Nature don't murmur or rebel when they are changed for newer,
+greater helps. No: it is only human bein's who complain, and have the
+heartache, because they are so sot.
+
+[Illustration: OUR 4 PARENTS.]
+
+But whether we murmur, or whether we are calm, whether we like it, or
+whether we don't, we have to move our tents. We are only campin' out,
+here; and we have to move our tents along, and let the new things push
+us out of the way. The old things now, are the new ones of the past; and
+what seems new to us, will soon be the old.
+
+Why, how long does it seem, only a minute, since we was a buildin' moss
+houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse? Beautiful, fresh
+rooms, carpeted with the green moss, with bright young faces bendin'
+down over 'em. Where are they now? The dust of how many years--I don't
+want to think how many--has sifted down over them velvet-carpeted
+mansions, turned them into dust.
+
+And the same dust has sprinkled down onto the happy heads of the fresh,
+bright-faced little group gathered there.
+
+[Illustration: BORROWING COALS.]
+
+Charley, and Alice! oh! the dust is very deep on her head,--the dust
+that shall at last lay over all our heads. And Louis! Bright blue eyes
+there may be to-day, old Time, but none truer and tenderer than his.
+But long ago, oh! long ago, the dust covered you--the dust that is older
+than the pyramids, old, and yet new; for on some mysterious breeze it
+was wafted to you, it drifted down, and covered the blue eyes and the
+brown eyes, hid the bright faces forever.
+
+And the years have sprinkled down into Charley's grave business head
+tiresome dust of dividends and railway shares. Kate and Janet, and Will
+and Helen and Harry--where are you all to-day, I wonder? But though I do
+not know that, I do know this,--that Time has not stood still with any
+of you. The years have moved you along, hustled you forward, as they
+swept by. You have had to move along, and let other bright faces stand
+in front of you.
+
+You are all buildin' houses to-day that you think are more endurin'. But
+what you build to-day--hopes built upon worldly wealth, worldly fame,
+household affection, political success--ah I will they not pass
+away like the green moss houses down in the woods back of the old
+schoolhouse?
+
+Yes, they, too, will pass away, so utterly that only their dust will
+remain. But God grant that we may all meet, happy children again, young
+with the new life of the immortals, on some happy playground of the
+heavenly life!
+
+But poor little houses of moss and cedar boughs, you are broken down
+years and years ago, trampled down into dust, and the dust blown away
+by the rushin' years. Blown away, but gathered up agin by careful old
+Nature, nourishin' with it a newer, fresher growth.
+
+I don't s'pose any of us really hanker after growin' old; sometimes I
+kinder hate to; and so I told Josiah one day.
+
+And he says, "Why, we hain't the only ones that is growin' old. Why,
+everybody is as old as we be, that wuz born, at the same time; and lots
+of folks are older. Why, there is uncle Nate Gowdey, and aunt Seeny:
+they are as old agin, almost."
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD SCHOOLHOUSE]
+
+Says I, "That is a great comfort to meditate on, Josiah; but it don't
+take away all the sting of growin' old."
+
+And he said "he didn't care a dumb about it, if he didn't have to work
+so hard." He said "he'd fairly love to grow old if he could do it easy,
+kinder set down to it."
+
+(Now, that man don't work so very hard. But don't tell him I said so:
+he's real fractious on that subject, caused, I think, by rheumatiz, and
+mebby the Plan.)
+
+I told Josiah that it wouldn't make growin' old any easier to set down,
+than it would to stand up.
+
+I don't s'pose it makes much difference about our bodies, anyway; they
+are only wrappers for the soul: the real, person is within. But then,
+you know, you get sort o' attached to your own body, yourself, you know,
+if you have lived with yourself any length of time, as we have, a good
+many of us.
+
+You may not be handsome, but you sort o' like your own looks, after all.
+Your eyes have a sort of a good look to you. Your hands are soft and
+white; and they are your own too, which makes 'em nearer to you; they
+have done sights for you, and you can't help likin' 'em. And your mouth
+looks sort o' agreable and natural to you.
+
+You don't really like to see the dimpled, soft hands change into an
+older person's hands; you kinder hate to change the face for an older,
+more care-worn face; you get sick of lookin'-glasses.
+
+And sometimes you feel a sort of a homesick longin' for your old
+self--for the bright, eager face that looked back to you from the old
+lookin'-glass on summer mornin's, when the winder was open out into the
+orchard, and the May birds was singin' amidst the apple-blows. The red
+lips parted with a happy smile; the bright, laughin' eyes, sort o' soft
+too, and wistful--wishful for the good that mebby come to you, and mebby
+didn't, but which the glowin' face was sure of, on that spring morning
+with the May birds singin' outside, and the May birds singin' inside.
+
+[Illustration: A MAY MORNING.]
+
+Time may have brought you somethin' better--better than you dreamed of
+on that summer mornin'. But it is different, anyhow; and you can't help
+gettin' kinder homesick, longin', wantin' that pretty young face again,
+wantin' the heart back again that went with it.
+
+Wall, I s'pose we shall have it back--sometime. I s'pose we shall get
+back our lost youth in the place where we first got it. And it is all
+right, anyway.
+
+We must move on. You see, Time won't stop to argue with us, or dicker;
+and our settin' down, and coaxin' him to stop a minute, and whet his
+scythe, and give us a chance to get round the swath he cuts, won't
+ammount to nothin' only wastin' our breath. His scythe is one that don't
+need any grindstun, and his swath is one that must be cut.
+
+No! Time won't lean up aginst fence corners, and wipe his brow on a
+bandanna, and hang round. He jest moves right on--up and down, up and
+down. On each side of us the ripe blades fall, and the flowers; and
+pretty soon the swath will come right towards us, the grass-blades will
+fall nearer and nearer--a turn of the gleamin' scythe, and we, too, will
+be gone. The sunlight will rest on the turf where our shadows were, and
+one blade of grass will be missed out of that broad harvest-field more
+than we will be, when a few short years have rolled by.
+
+The beauty and the clamor of life will go on without us. You see, we
+hain't needed so much as we in our egotism think we are. The world will
+get along without us, while we rest in peace.
+
+But until then we have got to move along: we can't set down anywhere,
+and set there. No: if we want to be fore mothers and fore fathers, we
+mustn't set still: we must give the babies a chance to be fore mothers
+and fore fathers too. It wouldn't be right to keep the babies from bein'
+ancestors.
+
+We must keep a movin' on. How the summer follows the spring, and the
+winter follows the autumn, and the years go by! And the clouds sail on
+through the sky, and the shadows follow each other over the grass, and
+the grass fadeth.
+
+And the sun moves down the west, and the twilight follows the sun, and
+at last the night comes--and then the stars shine.
+
+Strange that all this long revery of my mind should spring from that
+letter of my pardner's. But so it is. Why, I sot probable 3 fourths of
+a hour--entirely by the side of myself. Why, I shouldn't have sensed
+whether I was settin' on a sofy in a Washington boarding-house (a hard
+one too), or a bed of flowers in Asia Minor, or in the middle of the
+Desert of Sarah. Why, I shouldn't have sensed Sarah or A. Minor at all,
+if they had stood right by me, I was so lost and unbeknown to myself.
+
+But anon, or pretty nigh that time (for I know it was ten when I got
+into bed, and it probable took me 1/2 an hour to comb out my hair and
+wad it up, and ondress), I rousted up out of my revery, and realized
+I was Josiah Allen's wife on a tower of Principle and Discovery. I
+realized I was a forerunner, and on the eve of return to the bosom of my
+family (a linen bosom, with five pleats on a side).
+
+Wall, I rose betimes in the mornin', or about that time, and eat a good,
+noble breakfast, so's to start feelin' well; embraced Cicely and the
+boy, who asked me 32 questions while I was embracin' him. I kissed him
+several times, with hugs according; and then I took leave of Sally and
+Bub Smith. I paid for my board honorable, although Sally said she would
+not take any pay for so short a board. But I knew, in her condition,
+boards of any length should be paid for. So I insisted, and the board
+was paid for. I also rewarded Bub Smith for his efforts at doin' my
+errents, in a way that made his blushes melt into a glowin' background
+of joyousness.
+
+And then, havin' asked the hired man to get a covered carriage to convey
+my body to the depot, and my trunk, I left Washington, D.C.
+
+The snort of the engine as it ketched sight of me, sounded friendly to
+me. It seemed to say to me,--
+
+"Forerunner, your runnin' is done, and well done! Your labors of duty
+and anxiety is over. Soon, soon will you be with your beloved pardner at
+home."
+
+Home, the dearest word that was ever said or sung.
+
+The passengers all looked good to me. The men's hats looked like
+Josiah's. They looked out of their eyes some as he did out of hisen:
+they looked good to me. There was one man upbraidin' his wife about some
+domestic matter, with crossness in his tone, but affectionate care and
+interest in his mean. Oh, how good, and sort o' natural, he did look to
+me! it almost seemed as if my Josiah was there by my side.
+
+Never, never, does the cords of love fairly pull at your heart-strings,
+a drawin' you along towards your heart's home, your heart's desire, as
+when you have been off a movin' round on a tower. I longed for my dear
+home, I yearned for my Josiah.
+
+I arrove at Jonesville as night was a lettin' down her cloudy mantilly
+fringed with stars (there wuzn't a star: I jest put that in for oritory,
+and I don't think it is wrong if I tell of it right away).
+
+[Illustration: AT THE DEPOT.]
+
+Evidently Josiah's creek wus better; for he wus at the depot with the
+mair, to convey my body home. He wus stirred to the very depths of his
+heart to see me agin; but he struggled for calmness, and told me in a
+voice controlled by his firm will, to "hurry and get in, for the mair
+wus oneasy stand-in' so long."
+
+I, too, felt that I must emulate his calmness; and I says,--
+
+"I can't get in no faster than I can. Do hold the mair still, or I can't
+get in at all."
+
+"Wall, wall! hain't I a holdin' it? Jump in: there is a team behind a
+waitin'."
+
+After these little interchanges of thought and affection, there was
+silence between us. Truly, there is happiness enough in bein' once more
+by the side of the one you love, whether you speak or not. And, to
+tell the truth, I was out of breath hurryin' so. But few words were
+interchanged until the peaceful haven of home was reached.
+
+Some few words, peaceful, calm words were uttered, as to what we
+wus goin' to have for supper, and a desire on Josiah's part for a
+chicken-pie and vegitables of all kinds, and various warm cakes and
+pastries, compromised down to plans of tender steak, mashed potatoes,
+cream biscuit, lemon custard, and coffee. It wus settled in peace and
+calmness. He looked unstrung, very unstrung, and wan, considerable wan.
+But I knew that I and the supper could string him up agin; and I felt
+that I would not speak of the plan or the creek, or any agitatin'
+subject, until the supper was over, which resolve I follered. After the
+table was cleared, and Josiah looked like a new man,--the girl bein' out
+in the kitchen washin' the dishes,--I mentioned the creek; and he owned
+up that he didn't know as it was exactly a creek, but "it was a dumb
+pain, anyway, and he felt that he must see me."
+
+It is sweet, passing sweet, to be missed, to be necessary to the
+happiness of one you love. But, at the same time, it is bitter to know
+that your pardner has prevaricated to you, and so the sweet and the
+bitter is mixed all through life.
+
+I smiled and sithed simultaneous, as it were, and dropped down the
+creek.
+
+Then with a calm tone, but a beatin' heart, I took up the Plan, and
+presented it to him. I wanted to find out the heights and depths of that
+Plan before I said a word about my own adventures at Washington, D.C.
+Oh, how that plan had worried me! But the minute I mentioned it, Josiah
+looked as if he would sink. And at first he tried to move off the
+subject, but I wouldn't let him. I held him up firm to that plan, and,
+to use a poetical image, I hitched him there.
+
+Says I, "You know what you told me, Josiah,--you said that plan would
+make you beloved and revered."
+
+He groaned.
+
+Says I, "You know you said it would make you a lion, and me a lioness:
+do you remember, Josiah Allen?"
+
+He groaned awful.
+
+Says I firmly, "It didn't make you a lion, did it?"
+
+He didn't speak, only sithed. But says I firmly, for I wus bound to come
+to the truth of it,--
+
+"Are you a lion?"
+
+"No," say she, "I hain't."
+
+"Wall," says I, "then what be you?"
+
+"I am a fool," says he bitterly, "a dumb fool."
+
+"Wall," says I encouragingly, "you no need to have laid on plans, and I
+needn't have gone off on no towers of discovery, to have found that out.
+But now," says I in softer axents, for I see he did indeed look agitated
+and melancholy,--
+
+"Tell your Samantha all about it."
+
+Says he mournfully, "I have got to find 'The Gimlet.'"
+
+[Illustration: ARE YOU A LION?]
+
+"The Gimlet!" I sithed to myself; and the wild and harrowin' thought
+went through me like a arrow,--that my worst apprehensions had been
+realized, and that man had been a writing poetry.
+
+But then I remembered that he had promised me years ago, that he never
+would tackle the job agin. He begun to make a poem when we was first
+married; but there wuzn't no great harm done, for he had only wrote two
+lines when I found it out and broke it up.
+
+Bein' jest married, I had a good deal of influence over him; and he
+promised me sacred, to never, _never_, as long as he lived and breathed,
+try to write another line of poetry agin. We was married in the spring,
+and these 2 lines was as follers:--
+
+  "How happified this spring appears--
+  More happier than I ever knew springs to be, _shears_."
+
+And I asked him what he put the "shears" in for, and he said he did it
+to rhyme. And then was the time, then and there, that I made him promise
+on the Old Testament, _never_ to try to write a line of poetry agin. And
+I felt that he _could_ not do himself and me the bitter wrong to try it
+agin, and still I trembled.
+
+And right while I was tremblin', he returned, and silently laid "The
+Gimlet" in my lap, and sot down, and nearly buried his face in his
+hands. And the very first piece on which the eye of my spectacle rested,
+was this: "Josiah Allen on a Path-Master."
+
+And I dropped the paper in my lap, and says I,--
+
+"_What_ have you been doing _now_, Josiah Allen? Have you been a
+fightin'? What path-master have you been on?"
+
+"I hain't been on any," says he sadly, out from under his hand. "I
+headed it so, to have a strong, takin' title. You know they 'pinted me
+path-master some time ago."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING TREATED.]
+
+I groaned and sithed to that extent that I was almost skairt at myself,
+not knowin' but I would have the highstericks unbeknown to me (never
+havin' had 'em, I didn't know exactly what the symptoms was), and I felt
+dredfully. But anon, or pretty nigh anon, I grew calmer, and opened the
+paper, and read. It seemed to be in answer to the men who had nominated
+him for path-master, and it read as follers:--
+
+JOSIAH ALLEN ON A PATH-MASTER.
+
+Feller Constituents and Male Men of Jonesville and the surroundin' and
+adjacent worlds!
+
+I thank you, fellow and male citizents, I thank you heartily, and
+from the depths of my bein', for the honor you have heaped onto me, in
+pintin' me path-master.
+
+But I feel it to be my duty to decline it. I feel that I must keep
+entirely out of political matters, and that I cannot be induced to be
+path-master, or President, or even United-States senator. I have not got
+the constitution to stand it. I don't feel well a good deal of the time.
+My liver is out of order, I am liable to have the ganders any minute,
+I am bilious, am troubled with rheumatiz and colic, my blood don't
+circulate proper, I have got a weak back, and lumbago, and biles. And
+I hain't a bit well. And I dassent put too much strain on myself, I
+dassent.
+
+And then, I am a husband and a father. I have sacred duties to perform
+about, nearer and more sacred duties, that I dast not put aside for any
+others.
+
+I am a husband. I took a tender and confidin' woman away from a happy
+home (Mother Smith's, in the east part of Jonesville), and transplanted
+her (carried her in a one-horse wagon and a mare) into my own home. And
+I feel that it is my first duty to make that home the brightest spot on
+earth to her. That home is my dearest and most sacred treasure. And how
+can I disturb its sweet peace with the wild turmoil of politics? I can
+not. I dast not.
+
+And politics are dangerous to enter into. There is bad folks in
+Jonesville 'lection day,--bad men, and bad women. And I am liable to be
+led astray. I don't want to be led astray, but I feel that I am liable
+to.
+
+I have to hear swearin'. Now, I don't swear myself. (I don't call "dumb"
+swearin', nor never did.) I don't swear, but I think of them oaths
+afterwards. Twice I thought of 'em right in prayer-meetin' time, and it
+worrys me.
+
+I have to see drinkin' goin' on. I don't want to drink; but they offer
+to treat me, old friends do, and Samantha is afraid I shall yield to the
+temptation; and I am most afraid of it myself.
+
+Yes, politics is dangerous and hardenin'; and, should I enter into the
+wild conflict, I feel that I am in danger of losin' all them tender,
+winnin' qualities that first won me the love of my Samantha. I dare not
+imperil her peace, and mine, by the effort.
+
+I can not, I dast not, put aside these sacred duties that Providence has
+laid upon me. My wive's happiness is the first thing I must consider.
+Can I leave her lonely and unhappy while I plunge into the wild turmoil
+of caurkusses and town-meetin's, and while I go to 'lection, and vote?
+No.
+
+And the time I would have to spend in study in order to vote
+intelligent, I feel as if that time I must use in strugglin' to promote
+the welfare and happiness of my Samantha. No, I dassent vote, I dassent
+another time.
+
+Again, another reason. I have a little grandchild growin' up around me.
+I owe a duty to her. I must dandle her on my knee. I must teach her the
+path of virtue and happiness. If I do not, who will? For though there
+are plenty to make laws, and to vote, little Samantha Joe has but one
+grandpa on her mother's side.
+
+And then, I have sights of cares. The Methodist church is to be kep' up:
+I am one of the pillows of the church, and sometimes it rests heavy on
+me. Sometimes I have to manage every way to get the preacher's salary. I
+am school-trustee: I have to grapple with the deestrict every spring and
+fall. The teachers are high-headed, the parents always dissatisfied,
+and the children act like the Old Harry. I am the salesman in the
+cheese-factory. Anarky and quarellin' rains over me offen that
+cheese-factory; and its fault-findin', mistrustin' patrons, embitters my
+life, and rends my mind with cares.
+
+The care of providin' for my family wears onto me; for though Samantha
+tends to things on the inside of the house, I have to tend to things
+outside, and I have to provide the food she cooks.
+
+And then, I have a great deal of work to do. Besides my barn-chores, and
+all the wearin' cares I have mentioned, I have five acres of potatoes to
+hoe and dig, a barn to shingle, a pig-pen to new cover, a smoke-house to
+fix, a bed of beets and a bed of turnips to dig,--ruty bagys,--and four
+big beds of onions to weed--dumb 'em! and six acres of corn to husk. My
+barn-floor at this time is nearly covered with stooks. How dare I leave
+my barn in confusion, and, by my disorderly doin's, run the risk of my
+wive's bein' so disgusted with my want of neatness and shiftlessness, as
+to cause her to get dissatisfied with home and husband, and wander off
+into paths of dissipation and vice? Oh! I dassent, I dassent, take the
+resk! When I think of all the terrible evils that are liable to
+come onto me, I feel that I dassent vote agin, as long as I live and
+breathe--I dast not have any thing whatever to do with politics.
+
+FINY. THE END.
+
+I read it all out loud, every word of it, interrupted now and then, and
+sometimes oftener, by the groans of my pardner. And as I finished, I
+looked round at him, and I see his looks was dretful. And I says in
+soothin' tones--for oh! how a companion's distress calls up the tender
+feelin's of a lovin' female pardner!
+
+Says I, "It hain't the worst piece in the world, Josiah Allen! It is as
+sensible as lots of political pieces I have read." Says I, "Chirk up!"
+
+"It hain't the piece! It is the way it was took," says he. "Life has
+been a burden to me ever sense that appeared in 'The Gimlet.' Tongue
+can't tell the way them Jonesvillians has sneered and jeered at me, and
+run me down, and sot on me."
+
+I sithed, and remained a few moments almost lost in thought; and then
+says I,--
+
+"Now, if you are more composed and gathered together, will you tell your
+companion how you come to write it? what you did it _for?_"
+
+"I did it to be populer," says he, out from under his hand. "I thought I
+would branch off, and take a new turn, and not act so fierce and wolfish
+after office as most of 'em did. I thought I would get up something new
+and uneek."
+
+"Wall, you have, uneeker than you probable ever will agin. But, if you
+wanted to be a senator, _why_ did you refuse to have any thing to do
+with politics?"
+
+"I did it to be _urged_," says he, in the same sad, despairin' tones. "I
+made the move to be loved--to be the favorite of the Nation. I thought
+after they read that, they would be fierce to promote me, fierce
+as blood-hounds. I thought it would make me the most populer man in
+Jonesville, and that I should be sought after, and praised up, and
+follered."
+
+"What give you that idee?" says I calmly.
+
+"Why, don't you remember Letitia Lanfear? She wrote a article sunthin'
+like this, only not half so smart and deep, when she was nominated for
+school-trustee, and it jest lifted her right up. She never had been
+thought any thing off in Jonesville till she wrote that, and that was
+the makin' of her. And she hadn't half the reason to write it that I
+have. She hadn't half nor a quarter the cares that I have got. She was a
+widder, educated high, without any children, with a comfortable income,
+and she lived in her brother's family, and didn't have _no_ cares at
+all.
+
+"And only see how that piece lifted her right up! They all said, what
+right feelin', what delicacy, what a noble, heart-stirrin', masterly
+document hern was! And I hankered, I jest hankered, after bein' praised
+up as she was. And I thought," says he with a deep sithe, "I thought I
+should get as much agin praise as she did. I thought I should be twice
+as populer, because it wus sunthin' new for a _man_ to write such a
+article. I thought I should be all the rage in Jonesville. I thought I
+should be a lion."
+
+[Illustration: LETITIA LANFEAR.]
+
+"Wall, accordin' to your tell, they treat you like one, don't they?"
+
+"Yes," says he, "speakin' in a wild animal way." Says he, growin'
+excited, "I wish I _wuz_ a African lion right out of a jungle: I'd
+teach them Jonesvillians to get out of my way. I'd love, when they was
+snickerin', and pokin' fun at me, and actin' and jeerin' and sneerin',
+and callin' me all to nort, I'd love to spring onto 'em, and roar."
+
+"Hush, Josiah," says I. "Be calm! be calm!"
+
+"I won't be calm! I can't see into it," he hollered. "Why, what lifted
+Letitia Lanfear right up, didn't lift me up. Hain't what's sass for the
+goose, sass for the gander?"
+
+"No," says I sadly. "It hain't the same sass. The geese have to get the
+same strength from it,--strength to swim in the same water, fly over the
+same fences, from the same pursuers and avengers; and they have to grow
+the same feathers out of it; but the sass, the sass is fur different.
+
+"But," says I, "I don't approve of all your piece. A man, as a general
+thing, has as much time as a woman has. And I'd love to see the
+time that I couldn't do a job as short as puttin' a letter in the
+post-office. Why, I never see the time, even when the children was
+little, and in cleanin' house, or sugarin'-time, but what I could ride
+into Jonesville every day, to say nothin' of once a year, and lay a vote
+onto a pole. And you have as much time as I do, unless it is springs
+and falls and hayin'-time. And if _I_ could do it, _you_ could. I don't
+approve of such talk.
+
+"And you know very well that you and I had better spend a little of our
+spare time a studyin' into matters, so as to vote intelligently; study
+into the laws that govern us both,--that hang us if we break 'em, and
+protect us if we obey 'em,--than to spend it a whittling shingles, or
+wonderin' whether Miss Bobbet's next baby will be a boy or a girl."
+
+"Wall," says he, takin' his hand down, and winkin',--a sort of a shrewd,
+knowin' wink, but a sad and dejected one, too, as I ever see wunk,--
+
+"I didn't have no idee of stoppin' votin'."
+
+Says I coldly, as cold as Zero, or pretty nigh as coldblooded as the old
+man,--
+
+"Did you write that article _jest_ for the speech of people? Didn't you
+have no principle to back it up?"
+
+"Wall," says he mournfully, "I wouldn't want it to get out of the
+family, but I'll tell you the truth. I didn't write it on a single
+principle, not a darn principle. I wrote it jest for popularity, and to
+make 'em fierce to promote me."
+
+I groaned aloud, and he groaned. It wus a sad and groanful time.
+
+Says he, "I pinned my faith onto Letitia Lanfear. And I can't understand
+now, why a thing that made Letitia so populer, makes me a perfect
+outcast. Hain't we both human bein's--human Methodists and
+Jonesvillians?" Says he, in despairin', agonized tone, "I can't see
+through it."
+
+Says I soothenly, "Don't worry about that, Josiah, for nobody can. It
+is too deep a conundrum to be seen through: nobody has ever seen through
+it."
+
+But it seemed as if he couldn't be soothed; and agin he kinder sithed
+out,--
+
+"I pinned my faith onto Letitia, and it has ondone me;" and he kinder
+whimpered.
+
+But I says firmly, but gently,--
+
+"You will hear to your companion another time, will you not? and pin
+your faith onto truth and justice and right?"
+
+"No, I won't. I won't pin it onto nothin' nor nobody. I'm done with
+politics from this day."
+
+And bad as we both felt, this last speech of hisen made a glimmer of
+light streak up, and shine into my future. Some like heat lightenin' on
+summer evenin's. It hain't so much enjoyment at the time, but you know
+it is goin' to clear the cloudy air of the to-morrow. And so its light
+is sweet to you, though very curious, and crinkley.
+
+And as mournful and sort o' curious as this time seemed to me and to
+Josiah, yet this speech of hisen made me know that all private and
+public peril connected with Hon. Josiah Allen was forever past away. And
+that thought cast a rosy glow onto my to-morrows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+I found, on lookin' round the house the next mornin', that Philury had
+kep' things in quite good shape. Although truly the buttery looked like
+a lonesome desert, and the cubbards like empty tents the Arabs had left
+desolate.
+
+But I knew I could soon make 'em blossom like the rosy with provisions,
+which I proceeded at once to do, with Philury's help.
+
+While I wus a rollin' out the pie-crust, Philury told me "she had
+changed her mind about long engagements."
+
+And while I wus a makin' the cookies, she broached it to me that "she
+and Ury was goin' to be married the next week."
+
+I wus agreable to the idee, and told her so. I like 'em both. Ury is a
+tall, limber-jinted sort of a chap, sandy complected, and a little
+round shouldered, but hard-workin' and industrious, and seems to take a
+interest.
+
+His habits are good: he never drinks any thing stronger than root-beer,
+and he never uses tobacco--never has chawed any thing to our house
+stronger than gum. He used that, I have thought sometimes, more than
+wuz for his good. And I thought it must be expensive, he consumed such
+quantities of it. But he told me he made it himself out of beeswax and
+rozum.
+
+And I told Josiah that I shouldn't say no more about it; because,
+although it might be a foolish habit, gum was not what you might call
+inebriatin'; it was not a intoxicatin' beverage, and didn't endanger the
+publick safety. So he kep' on a chawin' it, to home and abroad. He kep'
+at it all day, and at night if he felt lonesome.
+
+I had mistrusted this, because I found a great chunk now and then on the
+head-board; and I tackled him about it, and he owned up.
+
+"When he felt lonesome in the night," he said, "gum sort o' consoled
+him."
+
+[Illustration: URY.]
+
+Well, I thought that in a great lonesome world, that needed comfort
+so much, if he found gum a consoler, I wouldn't break it up. So I kep'
+still, and would clean the head-board silently with kerosine and a
+woolen rag.
+
+And Philury is a likely girl. Very freckled, but modest and unassuming.
+She is little, and has nice little features, and a round little face;
+and though she can't be said to resemble it in every particular, yet
+I never could think of any thing whenever I see her, but a nice little
+turkey-egg.
+
+She is very obligin', and would always curchy and smile, and say "Yes'm"
+whenever I asked her to do any thing. She always would, and always will,
+I s'pose, do jest what you tell her to,--as near as she can; and she is
+thought a good deal of.
+
+Wall, she has liked Ury for some time--that has been plain to see: she
+thought her eyes of him, and he of her. He has got eight or nine hundred
+dollars laid up; and I thought it was well enough for 'em to marry if
+they wanted to, and so I told Josiah the first time he come into the
+house that forenoon.
+
+And he said "he guessed our thinkin' about it wouldn't alter it much,
+one way or the other."
+
+And I said "I s'posed not." But says I, "I spoke out, because I feel
+quite well about it. I like 'em both, and think they'll make a happy
+couple: and to show my willin'ness still further, I mean to make a
+weddin' for her; for she hain't got no mothers, and Miss Gowdy won't
+have it there, for you know there has been such a hardness between 'em
+about that grindstun. So I'll have it here, get a good supper, and have
+'em married off respectable."
+
+He hung back a little at first, but I argued him down. Says I,--
+
+"I have heerd you say, time and agin, that you liked 'em, and wanted 'em
+to do well: now, what do good wishes ammount to, unless you are willin'
+to back 'em up with good acts?" Says I, "I might say that I wished 'em
+well and happy, and that would be only a small expendature of wind, that
+wouldn't be no loss to me, and no petickuler help to them. But if I show
+my good will towards 'em by stirrin' up fruit-cakes and bride-cake, and
+pickin' chickens, and pressin' 'em, and makin' ice-cream and coffee
+and sandwitches, and workin' myself completely tired out, a wishin'
+'em well, why, then they can depend on it that I am sincere in my good
+wishes."
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, "if you wish me well, I wish you would get me a
+little sunthin' to eat before I starve: it is past eleven o'clock."
+
+"The hand is on the pinter," says I calmly. "But start a good fire, and
+I will get dinner."
+
+So he did, and I did, and he never made no further objections to my
+enterprise; and it was all understood that I should get their weddin'
+supper, and they should start from here on their tower.
+
+And I offered, as she and Miss Gowdy didn't agree, that she might come
+back here, if she wanted to, and get some quiltin' done, and get ready
+for housekeepin'. She was tickled enough with the idee, and said she
+would help me enough to pay for her board. Ury's time wouldn't be out
+till about a month later.
+
+I told her she needn't work any for me. But she is a dretful handy
+little thing about the house, or outdoors. When Josiah was sick, and
+when the hired man happened to be away, she would go right out to the
+barn, and fodder the cattle jest as well as a man could. And Josiah said
+she milked faster than he could, to save his life. Her father had nine
+girls and no boys; and he brought some of the girls up when they was
+little, kinder boy-like, and they knew all about outdoor work.
+
+Wall, it was all decided on, that they should come right back here jest
+as soon as they ended their tower. They was a goin' to Ury's sister's,
+Miss Reuben Henzy's, and laid out to be gone about four days, or from
+four days to a week.
+
+And I went to cookin' for the weddin' about a week before it took place.
+I thought I would invite the minister and his wife and family, and
+Philury's sister-in-law's family,--the only one of her relations
+who lived near us, and she was poor; and her classmates at Sunday
+school,--there was twelve of 'em,--and our children and their families.
+And I asked Miss Gowdey'ses folks, but didn't expect they would come,
+owin' to that hardness about the grindstun. But everybody else come that
+was invited; and though I am far from bein' the one that ort to say it,
+the supper was successful. It was called "excellent" by the voice, and
+the far deeper language of consumption.
+
+They all seemed to enjoy it: and Ury took out his gum, and put it under
+the table-leaf before he begun to eat; and I found it there afterwards.
+He was excited, I s'pose, and forgot to take it agin when he left the
+table.
+
+Philury looked pretty. She had on a travellin'-dress of a sort of a warm
+brown,--a color that kinder set off her freckles. It was woosted,
+and trimmed with velvet of a darker shade; and her hat and her gloves
+matched.
+
+Her dress was picked out to suit me. Ury wanted her to be married in
+a yellow tarleton, trimmed with red. And she was jest that obleegin',
+clever creeter, that she would have done it if it hadn't been for me.
+
+[Illustration: THE WEDDING SUPPER.]
+
+I says to her and to him,--
+
+"What use would a yeller tarleton trimmed with red be to her after
+she is married, besides lookin' like fury now?" Says I, "Get a good,
+sensible dress, that will do some good after marriage, besides lookin'
+good now." Says I, "Marriage hain't exactly in real life like what it
+is depictered in novels. Life don't end there: folks have to live
+afterwards, and dress, and work." Says I, "If marriage was really what
+it is painted in that literature--if you didn't really have nothin' to
+do in the future, only to set on a rainbow, and eat honey, why, then,
+a yaller tarleton dress with red trimmin's would be jest the thing to
+wear. But," says I, "you will find yourself in the same old world, with
+the same old dishcloths and wipin'-towels and mops a waitin' for you to
+grasp, with the same pair of hands. You will have to konfront brooms and
+wash-tubs and darnin'-needles and socks, and etcetery, etcetery. And you
+must prepare yourself for the enkounter."
+
+She heerd to me; and that very day, after we had the talk, I took her
+to Jonesville, drivin' the old mare myself, and stood by her while she
+picked it out.
+
+And thinkin' she was young and pretty, and would want somethin' gay and
+bright, I bought some flannel for a mornin'-dress for her, and give it
+to her for a present. It was a pretty, soft gray and pink, in stripes
+about half a inch wide, and would be pretty for her for years, to wear
+in the house, and when she didn't feel well.
+
+I knew it would wash.
+
+She was awful tickled with it. And I bought a present for Ury on that
+same occasion,--two fine shirts, and two pair of socks, with gray toes
+and heels, to match the mornin'-dress. I do love to see things kompared,
+especially in such a time as this.
+
+My weddin' present for 'em was a nice cane-seat rocker, black walnut,
+good and stout, and very nice lookin'. And, knowin' she hadn't no
+mother to do for her, I gave her a pair of feather pillows and a
+bed-quilt,--one that a aunt of mine had pieced up for me. It was a
+blazin' star, a bright red and yeller, and it had always sort o' dazzled
+me.
+
+Ury worshiped it. I had kept it on his bed ever sense I knew what
+feelin's he had for it. He had said "that he didn't see how any thing so
+beautiful could be made out of earthly cloth." And I thought now was my
+time to part with it.
+
+Wall, they had lots of good presents. I had advised the children, and
+the Sunday-school children, that, if they was goin' to give 'em any
+thing, they would give 'em somethin' that would do 'em some good.
+
+Says I, "Perforated paper lambrequins, and feather flowers, and
+cotton-yarn tidies, look well; but, after all, they are not what you may
+call so nourishin' as some other things. And there will probable rise
+in their future life contingencies where a painted match-box, and a
+hair-pin receiver, and a card-case, will have no power to charm. Even
+china vases and toilet-sets, although estimable, will not bring up a
+large family, and educate them, especially for the ministry."
+
+I s'pose I convinced 'em; for, as I heerd afterwards, the class had
+raised fifty cents apiece to get perforated paper, woosted yarn, and
+crystal beads. But they took it, and got her a set of solid silver
+teaspoons: the store-keeper threw off a dollar or two for the occasion.
+They was good teaspoons.
+
+And our children got two good linen table-cloths, and a set of
+table-napkins; and the minister's wife brought her four towels, and the
+sister-in-law a patch-work bed-quilt. And Reuben Henzy's wife sent 'em
+the money to buy 'em a set of chairs and a extension table; and a rich
+uncle of hisen sent him the money for a ingrain carpet; and a rich uncle
+of hern in the Ohio sent her the money for a bedroom set,--thirty-two
+dollars, with the request that it should be light oak, with black-walnut
+trimmin's.
+
+And I had all the things got, and took 'em up in one of our chambers,
+so folks could see 'em. And I beset Josiah Allen to give 'em for his
+present, a nice bedroom carpet. But no: he had got his mind made up to
+give Ury a yearlin' calf, and calf it must be. But he said "he would
+give in to me so fur, that, seein' I wanted to make such a show, if I
+said so, he would take the calf upstairs, and hitch it to the bed-post."
+
+But I wouldn't parlay with him.
+
+Wall, the weddin' went off first-rate: things went to suit me, all but
+one thing. I didn't love to see Ury chew gum all the time they was bein'
+married. But he took it out and held it in his hand when he said "Yes,
+sir," when the minister asked him, would he have this woman. And when
+she was asked if she would have Ury, she curchied, and said, "Yes, if
+you please," jest as if Ury was roast veal or mutton, and the minister
+was a passin' him to her. She is a good-natured little thing, and always
+was, and willin'.
+
+Wall, they was married about four o'clock in the afternoon; and Josiah
+sot out with 'em, to take 'em to the six o'clock train, for their tower.
+
+The company staid a half-hour or so afterwards: and the children stayed
+a little longer, to help me do up the work; and finally they went. And
+I went up into the spare chamber, and sort o' fixed Philury's things to
+the best advantage; for I knew the neighbors would be in to look at 'em.
+And I was a standin' there as calm and happy as the buro or table,--and
+they looked very light and cheerful,--when all of a sudden the door
+opened, and in walked Ury Henzy, and asked me,--
+
+"If I knew where his overhauls was?"
+
+You could have knocked me down with a pin-feather, as it were, I was so
+smut and dumb-foundered.
+
+Says I, "Ury Henzy, is it your ghost?" says I, "or be you Ury?"
+
+"Yes, I am Ury," says he, lookin', I thought, kinder disappointed and
+curious.
+
+"Where is Philury?" says I faintly.
+
+[Illustration: "YES, IF you PLEASE."]
+
+"She has gone on her tower," says he.
+
+Says I, "Then, you be a ghost: you hain't Ury, and you needn't say you
+be."
+
+But jest at that minute in come Josiah Allen a snickerin'; and says
+he,--
+
+"I have done it now, Samantha. I have done somethin' now, that is new
+and uneek."
+
+And as he see my strange and awful looks, he continued, "You know, you
+always say that you want a change now and then, and somethin' new, to
+pass away time."
+
+"And I shall most probable get it," says I, groanin', "as long as I live
+with you. Now tell me at once, what you have done, Josiah Allen! I know
+it is your doin's."
+
+"Yes," says he proudly, "yes, mom. Ury never would have thought of it,
+or Philury. I got it up myself, out of my own head. It is original, and
+I want the credit of it all myself."
+
+Says I faintly, "I guess you won't be troubled about gettin' a patent
+for it." Says I, "What ever put it into your head to do such a thing as
+this?"
+
+"Why," says he, "I got to thinkin' of it on the way to the cars. Philury
+said she would love to go and see her sister in Buffalo; and Ury, of
+course, wanted to go and see his sister in Rochester. And I proposed to
+'em that she should go first to Buffalo, and see her folks, and when she
+got back, he should go to Rochester, and see his folks. I told her that
+I needed Ury's help, and she could jest as well go alone as not, after
+we got her ticket. And then in a week or so, when she had got her visit
+made out, she could come back, and help do the chores, and tend to
+things, and Ury could go. Ury hung back at first. But she smiled, and
+said she would do it."
+
+I groaned aloud, "That clever little creeter! You have imposed upon her,
+and she has stood it."
+
+"Imposed upon her? I have made her a heroine.
+
+"Folks will make as much agin of her. I don't believe any female ever
+done any thing like it before,--not in any novel, or any thing."
+
+"No," I groaned. "I don't believe they ever did."
+
+"It will make her sought after. I told her it would. Folks will jest run
+after her, they will admire her so; and so I told her."
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, you did it because you didn't want to milk. Don't
+try to make out that you had a good motive for this awful deed. Oh,
+dear! how the neighbors will talk about it!"
+
+"Wall, dang it all, when they are a talkin' about this, they won't be
+lyin' about something else."
+
+"O Josiah Allen!" says I. "Don't ever try to do any thing, or say any
+thing, or lay on any plans agin, without lettin' me know beforehand."
+
+"I'd like to know why it hain't jest as well for 'em to go one at a
+time? They are both _a goin_ You needn't worry about _that_. I hain't a
+goin' to break _that_ up."
+
+I groaned awful; and he snapped out,--
+
+"I want sunthin' to eat."
+
+"To eat?" says I. "Can you eat with such a conscience? Think of that
+poor little freckled thing way off there alone!"
+
+"That poor little freckled thing is with her folks by this time, as
+happy as a king." But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun
+to feel bad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but
+he tried to keep up, and says he, "My conscience is clear, clear as
+a crystal goblet; and my stomack is as empty as one. I didn't eat a
+mouthful of supper. Cake, cake, and ice-cream, and jell! a dog couldn't
+eat it. I want some potatoes and meat!"
+
+And then he started out; and I went down, and got a good supper, but I
+sithed and groaned powerful and frequent.
+
+Philury got home safely from her bridal tower, lookin' clever, but
+considerable lonesome.
+
+Truly, men are handy on many occasions, and in no place do they seem
+more useful and necessary than on a weddin' tower.
+
+Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah would
+whisper to me every chance he got,--
+
+"That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and
+there wuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower." Josiah always
+stands up for his sect.
+
+And I would answer him every time,--
+
+"That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together,
+like human bein's."
+
+And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' about
+the milkin'. _There was where the shoe pinched_.
+
+Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back from
+Washington. And he stopped lookin' cross, and looked placid, and
+sunshiny. That man thinks his eyes of Cicely, both of 'em; and so do I.
+
+But I see that she looked fagged out.
+
+And she told me how hard she had worked ever sence she had been gone.
+She had been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done
+every thing she could with her influence and her money. She was willin'
+to spend her money like rain-water, if it would help any.
+
+But she said it seemed as if the powers against it was greater than
+ever, and she was heart-sick and weary.
+
+She had had another letter from the executor, too, that worried her.
+
+She told me that, after she went up to her room at night, and the boy
+was asleep.
+
+She had took off her heavy mournin'-dress, covered with crape, and put
+on a pretty white loose dress; and she laid her head down in my lap, and
+I smoothed her shinin' hair, and says to her,--
+
+"You are all tired out to-night, Cicely: you'll feel better in the
+mornin'."
+
+But she didn't: she was sick in bed the next day, and for two or three
+days.
+
+And it was arranged, that, jest as quick as she got well enough to go,
+I was to go with her to see the executor, to see if we couldn't make him
+change his mind. It was only half a day's ride on the cars, and I'd go
+further to please her.
+
+But she was sick for most a week. And the boy meant to be good. He
+wanted to be, and I know it.
+
+But though he was such a sweet disposition, and easy to mind, he was
+dretful easy led away by temptation, and other boys.
+
+Now, Cicely had told him that he _must not_ go a fishin' in the creek
+back of the house, there was such deep places in it; and he must not go
+there till he got older.
+
+And he would _mean_ to mind, I would know it by his looks. He would look
+good and promise. But mebby in a hour's time little Let Peedick would
+stroll over here, and beset the boy to go; and the next thing she'd
+know, he would be down to the creek, fishin' with a bent pin.
+
+[Illustration: LED ASTRAY.]
+
+And Cicely had told him he _mustn't_ go in a swimmin'. But he went;
+and because it made his mother feel bad, he would deceive her jest as
+good-natured as you ever see.
+
+Why, once he come in with his pretty brown curls all wet, and his little
+shirt on wrong side out.
+
+He was kinder whistlin', and tryin' to act indifferent and innocent. And
+when his mother questioned him about it, he said,--
+
+"He had drinked so much water, that it had soaked through somehow to his
+hair. And he turned his shirt gettin' over the fence. And we might ask
+Let Peedick if it wuzn't so."
+
+We could hear Letty a whistlin' out to the barn, and we knew he stood
+ready to say "he see the shirt turn."
+
+But we didn't ask.
+
+But when the boy see that his actin' and behavin' made his mother feel
+real bad, he would ask her forgiveness jest as sweet; and I knew he
+meant to do jest right, and mebby he would for as much as an hour, or
+till some temptation come along--or boy.
+
+But the good-tempered easiness to be led astray made Cicely feel like
+death: she had seen it in another; she see it was a inherited trait. And
+she could see jest how hard it was goin' to make his future: she would
+try her best to break him of it. But how, how was she goin' to do it,
+with them weak, good-natured lips, and that chin?
+
+But she tried, and she prayed.
+
+And, oh, how we all loved the boy! We loved him as we did the apples in
+our eyes.
+
+But as I said, he was a child that had his spells. Sometimes he would
+be very truthful and honest,--most too much so. That was when he had his
+sort o' dreamy spells.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY'S EXPLANATION.]
+
+I know one day, she that wus Kezier Lum come here a visitin'. She is
+middlin' old, and dretful humbly.
+
+Paul sot and looked at her face for a long time, with that sort of a
+dreamy look of hisen; and finally he says,--
+
+"Was you ever a young child?"
+
+And she says,--
+
+"Why, law me! yes, I s'pose so."
+
+And he says,--
+
+"I think I would rather have died young, than to grow up, and be so
+homely."
+
+[Illustration: SHE THAT WUS KEZIER LUM.]
+
+I riz up, and led him out of the room quick, and told him "never to talk
+so agin."
+
+And he says,--
+
+"Why, I told the truth, aunt Samantha."
+
+"Wall, truth hain't to be spoken at all times."
+
+"Mother punished me last night for not telling the truth, and told me to
+tell it always."
+
+And then I tried to explain things to him; and he looked sweet, and said
+"he would try and remember not to hurt folks'es feelin's."
+
+He never thought of doin' it in the first place, and I knew it. And I
+declare, I thought to myself, as I went back into the room,--
+
+"We whip children for tellin' lies, and shake 'em for tellin' the truth.
+Poor little creeters! they have a hard time of it, anyway."
+
+But when I went back into the room, I see Kezier was mad. And she said
+in the course of our conversation, that "she thought Cicely was too
+much took up on the subject of intemperance, and some folks said she was
+crazy on the subject."
+
+Kezier was always a high-headed sort of a woman, without a nerve in her
+body. I don't believe her teeth has got nerves; though I wouldn't want
+to swear to it, never havin' filled any for her.
+
+And I says back to her, for it made me mad to see Cicely run,--
+
+Says I, "She hain't the first one that has been called crazy, when they
+wus workin' for truth and right. And if the old possles stood it, to be
+called crazy, and drunken with new wine--why, I s'pose Cicely can."
+
+"Wall," says she, "don't you believe she is almost crazy on that
+subject?"
+
+Says I, deep and earnest, "It is a _good_ crazy, if it is. And," says I,
+"to s'posen the case,--s'posen the one we loved best in the world, your
+Ebineezer, or my Josiah, should have been ruined, and led into murder,
+by drinkin' milk, don't you believe we should have been sort o' crazy
+ever afterwards on the milk question?"
+
+"Why," says she, "milk won't make anybody crazy."
+
+There it wuz--she hadn't no imagination.
+
+Says I, "I am s'posen milk, I don't mean it." Says I, "Cicely means
+well."
+
+And so she did, sweet little soul.
+
+But day by day I could see that her eagerness to accomplish what she had
+sot out to, her awful anxiety about the boy's future, wus a wearin' on
+her: the active, keen mind, the throbbin', achin' heart, was a wearin'
+out the tender body.
+
+Her eyes got bigger and bigger every day; and her face got the
+solemnest, curiusest look to it, that I ever see.
+
+And her cheeks looked more and more like the pure white blow of the
+Sweet Cicely, only at times there would be a red upon 'em, as if a leaf
+out of a scarlet rose had dropped dowrn upon their pure whiteness.
+
+That would be in the afternoon; and there would be such a dazzlin'
+brightness in her eyes, that I used to wonder if it was the fire of
+immortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes.
+
+And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have been
+executed with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)--he wuz sot,
+a good man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the
+ground than he wuz sot on top of it. And he didn't like a woman's
+interference. He wrote to her that one of her stores, that he had always
+rented for the sale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool
+blankets, and etcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a
+new saloon and billiard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose;
+and he told how much more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons,
+that wuz in the boy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a
+drawin' some other mother's boys down to ruin.
+
+Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said,--said she was afraid
+the curses of these mothers would fall on the boy.
+
+And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face
+grew thinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks
+regular every afternoon, and she begun to cough bad.
+
+But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went to
+see the executor, Condelick Post.
+
+We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove
+there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out
+for Mr. Post'ses office.
+
+[Illustration: CONDELICK POST.]
+
+He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so at
+her, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be
+to tell her errent. I knew he would do every thing jest as she wanted
+him to. His smile was truly bland--I don't think I ever see a blander
+one, or amiabler.
+
+I guess she was kinder encouraged, too, for she begun real sort o'
+cheerful a tellin' what she come for,--that she wanted him to rent these
+buildin's for some other purpose than drinkin' and billiard saloons.
+
+And he went on in jest as cheerful a way, almost jokeuler, to tell
+her "that he couldn't do any thing of the kind, and he was doing the
+business to the best of his ability, and he couldn't change it at all."
+
+And then Cicely, in a courteus, reasonable voice, begun to argue with
+him; told him jest how bad she felt about it, and urged him to grant her
+request.
+
+But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half
+so polite.
+
+And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued the
+right of the thing.
+
+She said when she was married, her husband took the whole of her
+property, and invested it for her in these very buildings. And in
+reality, it was her own property. The most of her husband's wealth was
+in the mills and government bonds. But she wanted her money invested
+here, because she wanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let
+the interest accumulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel,
+for the workmen at the mills.
+
+And says she, "Is it _right_ that my own property should be used for
+what I consider such wicked purposes?"
+
+"Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any
+other investment that I have been able to make. And you know your
+husband's will provides handsomely for you--the yearly allowance is very
+handsome indeed."
+
+"It is all I wish, and more than I care for. I am not speaking of that."
+
+"Yes, it is very handsome indeed. And by the time Paul is of age, in the
+way I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man
+in this section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints,
+will be of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony."
+
+"It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight of
+heavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives."
+
+"All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But there
+will be nothing of the kind, I assure you," says he, with a patronizing
+smile. "It will all be invested in government bonds,--good, honest
+dollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them."
+
+"Yes, and these words, 'In God we trust.' But do you know," says
+she, with the red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes
+brighter,--"do you know, if one did not possess great faith, they would
+be apt to doubt the existence of a God, who can allow such injustice?"
+
+"What injustice, my dear madam?" says he, smilin' blandly.
+
+"You know, Mr. Post, just how my husband died: you know he was killed
+by intemperance. A drinking-saloon was just as surely the cause of his
+death, as the sword is, that pierces through a man's heart. Intemperance
+was the cause of his crime. He, the one I loved better than my own self,
+infinitely better, was made a murderer by it. I have lost him," says
+she, a throwin' out her arms with a wild gesture that skairt me. "I have
+lost him by it."
+
+And her eyes looked as big and wild and wretched, as if she was lookin'
+down the endless ages of eternity, a tryin' to find her love, and knew
+she couldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed to
+conquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, and
+speak calmly for the sake of her boy.
+
+"And now, after I have suffered by it as I have, is it right, is it
+just, that I should be compelled to allow my property to be used to
+make other women's hearts, other mothers' hearts, ache as mine must ache
+forever?"
+
+"But, my dear madam, the law, as it is now, gives me the right to do as
+I am doing."
+
+"I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant my
+prayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, to
+beg for mercy."
+
+"O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women are
+the real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a
+rod of iron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real
+autocrats of--of the breakfast-table, and of life."
+
+You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago.
+He forgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had
+almost entirely gone out of fashion. And it was a good deal more stylish
+now to talk to wimmen as if they wuz human bein's, and men wuz too.
+
+But Cicely looked at him calm and earnest, and says,--
+
+"Will you do as I wish you to in this matter?"
+
+"Well, really, my dear madam, I don't quite get at your meaning."
+
+"Will you let this store remain as it is, and rent those other saloons
+to honest business men for some other purpose than drinking-saloons?"
+
+"O my dear, dear madam! What can you be thinking of? The rent that I get
+from those four buildings is equal in amount to any eight of the other
+buildings of the same size. I cannot, I cannot, consent to make any
+changes whatever."
+
+"You will not, then, do as I wish?"
+
+"I _cannot_, my dear madam: I prefer to put it in that way,--I cannot. I
+do not see as you do in the matter. And as the law empowers me to use my
+own discretion in renting the buildings, investing money, etc., I shall
+be obliged to do so."
+
+Cicely got up: she was white as snow now, but as quiet as snow ever wus.
+
+Mr. Post got up, too, about the politest actin' man I ever see, a movin'
+chairs out of the way, and a smilin', and a waitin' on us out. He was
+ready to give plenty of politeness to Cicely, but no justice.
+
+And I guess he was kinder sorry to see how white and sad she looked, for
+he spoke out in a sort of a comfortin' voice,--
+
+"You have had great sorrows, Mrs. Slide, but you have also a great deal
+to comfort you. Just think of how many other widows have been left in
+poverty, or, as you may say, penury, and you are rich."
+
+Cicely turned then, and made the longest speech I ever heard her make.
+
+[Illustration: LICENSED WRETCHEDNESS.]
+
+"Yes, many a drunkard's wife is clothed in rags, and goes hungry to bed
+at night, with her hungry children crying for bread about her. She can
+lie on her cold pile of rags, with the snow sifting down on her, and
+think that her husband, a sober, honest man once, was made a low,
+brutal wretch by intemperance; that he drank up all his property, killed
+himself by strong drink, was buried in a pauper's grave, and left a
+starving wife and children, to live if they could. The cold of winter
+freezes her, the want of food makes her faint, and to see her little
+ones starving about her makes her heart ache, no doubt. I have plenty of
+money, fine clothes, dainty food, diamonds on my fingers."
+
+Says she, stretching out her little white hands, and smilin' the
+bitterest smile I ever see on Cicely's face,--
+
+"But do you not think, that, as I lie on my warm, soft couch at night,
+my heart is wrung by a keener pang than that drunkard's wife can ever
+know? I can lie and think that by my means, my wealth, I am making just
+such homes as that, making just such broken hearts, just such starving
+children, filling just such paupers' graves,--laying up a long store of
+curses and judgments, for my boy's inheritance. And I am powerless to do
+any thing but suffer."
+
+And she opened the door, and walked right out. And Mr. Post stood and
+smiled till we got to the bottom of the stairs.
+
+"Good-afternoon, _good_-afternoon, my clear madam, call again; happy to
+see you--_Good_-afternoon."
+
+Wall, Cicely went right to bed the minute we got home; and she never eat
+a mite of supper, only drinked a cup of tea, and thanked me so pretty
+for bringin' it to her.
+
+And there was such a sad and helpless, and sort of a outraged, look in
+her pretty brown eyes, some as a noble animal might have, who wus at bay
+with the cruel hunters all round it. And so I told Josiah after I went
+down-stairs.
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 87 questions about "a animal at
+bay," and what kind of a bay it was--was it the bay to a barn? or on the
+water? or--
+
+Oh my land! my land! How I did suffer!
+
+But Cicely grew worse fast, from that very day. She seemed to run right
+down.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+One day Cicely had been worryin' dretfully all the forenoon about the
+boy. And I declare, it seemed so pitiful to hear her talk and forebode
+about him, with her face lookin' so wan and white, and her big eyes
+so sorrowful lookin', as if they was lookin' onto all the sadness
+and trouble of the world, and couldn't help herself--such a sort of a
+hopeless look, and lovin' and broken-hearted, that it was all I could do
+to stand it without breakin' right down, and cry in' with her.
+
+But I knew her state, and held firm. And she went over all the old
+grounds agin to me, that she had foreboded on; and I went over all the
+old grounds of soothing agin and agin.
+
+Why, good land! I had had practice enough. For every day, and every
+night, would she forebode and forebode, and I would soothe and soothe,
+till I declare for't, I should have felt (to myself) a good deal like
+a bread-and-milk poultice, or even lobelia or catnip, if my feelin's
+on the subject hadn't been so dretful deep and solemn, deeper than any
+poultice that was ever made--and solemner.
+
+Why, Tirzah Ann says to me one day,--she had been settin' with Cicely
+for a hour or two; and she come out a cryin', and says she,--
+
+"Mother, I don't see how you can stand it. It would break my heart to
+see Cicely's broken-hearted look, and hear her talk for half a day; and
+you have to hear her all the time." And she wiped her eyes.
+
+And I says, "Tongue can't tell, Tirzah Ann, how your ma's heart does
+ache for her. And," says I, "if I knew myself, I had got to die and
+leave a boy in the world with such temptations round him, and such a
+chin on him, why, I don't know what I should do, and what I shouldn't
+do."
+
+And says Tirzah Ann, "That is jest the way I feel, mother;" and we both
+of us wiped our eyes.
+
+But I held firm before her, and reminded her every time, of what she
+knew already,--"that there was One who was strong, who comforted her in
+her hour of need, and He would watch over the boy."
+
+And sometimes she would be soothed for a little while, and sometimes she
+wouldn't.
+
+Wall, this day, as I said, she had worried and worried and worried. And
+at last I had soothed her down, real soothed. And she asked me before
+I went down-stairs, for a poem, a favorite one of hers,--"The Celestial
+Country." And I gin it to her. And she said I might shet the door, and
+she would read a spell, and she guessed she should drop to sleep.
+
+And as I was goin' out of the room, she called me back to hear a verse
+or two she particularly liked, about the "endless, ageless peace of
+Syon:"--
+
+  "True vision of true beauty,
+  Sweet cure of all distrest."
+
+And I stood calm, and heard her with a smooth, placid face, though I
+knew my pies was a scorchin' in the oven, for I smelt 'em. I did well by
+Cicely.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA LISTENING TO CICELY.]
+
+After she finished it, I told her it was perfectly beautiful, and I left
+her feelin' quite bright; and there wuzn't but one of my pies spilte,
+and I didn't care if it wuz. I wuzn't goin' to have her feelin's hurt,
+pies or no pies.
+
+After I got my pies out, I went into my nearest neighbor's on a errent,
+tellin' Josiah to stay in Thomas Jefferson's room, just acrost from
+Cicely's, so's if she wanted any thing, he could get it for her. I
+wuzn't gone over a hour, and, when I went back, I went up-stairs the
+first thing; and I found Cicely a cryin,' though there was a softer,
+more contented look in her eyes than I had seen there for a long time.
+
+And I says, "What is the matter, Cicely?"
+
+And she says,--
+
+"Oh! if I had been a better woman, I could have seen my mother! she has
+been here!"
+
+"Why, Cicely!" says I. "Here, take some of this jell."
+
+But she put it away, and says in a sort of a solemn, happy tone,--
+
+"She has been here!"
+
+She said it jest as earnest and serene as I ever heard any thing said;
+and there was a look in her eyes some as there wuz when she come home
+from her aunt Mary's, and told me "she almost wished her aunt had died
+while she was there, because she felt that her mother would be the angel
+sent from heaven to convey her aunt's soul home--and she could have seen
+her."
+
+There was that same sort of deep, soulful, sad, and yet happy look to
+her eyes, as she repeated,--
+
+"She has been here! I was lying here, aunt Samantha, reading 'The
+Celestial Country,' not thinking of any thing but my book, when suddenly
+I felt something fanning my forehead, like a wing passing gently over
+my face. And then something said to me just as plain as I am speaking to
+you, only, instead of being spoken aloud, it was said to my soul,--
+
+"'You have wanted to see your mother: she is here with you.'
+
+"And I dropped my book, and sprung up, and stood trembling, and reached
+out my hands, and cried,--"'Mother! mother! where are you? Oh! how I
+have wanted you, mother!'
+
+"And then that same voice said to my heart again,--
+
+"'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+"And as I stood there trembling, the room seemed full. You know how you
+would feel if your eyes were shut, and you were placed in a room full of
+people. You would know they were there--you would feel their presence,
+though you couldn't see them. You know what the Bible says,--'Seeing we
+are encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses.' That word just
+describes what I felt. There seemed to be all about me, a great cloud
+of people. And I put my arms out, and made a rush through them, as you
+would through a dense crowd, and said again,--
+
+"'Mother! mother! where are you? Speak to me again.'
+
+"And then, suddenly, there seemed to be a stir, a movement in the room,
+something I was conscious of with some finer, more vivid sense than
+hearing. It seemed to be a great crowd moving, receding. And farther
+off, but clear, these words came to me again, sweet and solemn,--
+
+"'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+"And then I seemed to be alone. And I went out into the hall; and uncle
+Josiah heard me, and he came out, and asked me what the matter was.
+
+"And I told him 'I didn't know.' And my strength left me then; and he
+took me up in his arms, and brought me back into my room, and laid me on
+the lounge, and gave me some wine, and I couldn't help crying."
+
+"What for, dear?" says I.
+
+"Because I wasn't good enough to see my mother. If I had only been good
+enough, I could have seen her. For she was here, aunt Samantha, right in
+this room."
+
+Her eyes wus so big and solemn and earnest, that I knew she meant what
+she said. But I soothed her down as well as I could, and I says,--
+
+"Mebby you had dropped to sleep, Cicely: mebby you dremp it."
+
+"Yes," says Josiah, who had come in, and heard my last words.
+
+"Yes, Cicely, you dremp it."
+
+Wall, after a while Cicely stopped cryin', and dropped to sleep.
+
+And now what I am goin' to tell you is the _truth_. You can believe it,
+or not, jest as you are a mind to; but it is the _truth_.
+
+That night, at sundown, Thomas J. come in with a telegram for Cicely;
+and she says, without actin' a mite surprised,--
+
+"Aunt Mary is dead."
+
+And sure enough, when she opened it, it was so. She died jest before the
+time Cicely come out into the hall. Josiah remembered plain. The clock
+had jest struck two as she opened the door.
+
+Her aunt died at two.
+
+This is the plain truth; and I will make oath to it, and so will Josiah.
+And whether Cicely dremp it, or whether she didn't; whether it wus jest
+a coincidin' coincidence, her havin' these feelin's at exactly the time
+her aunt died, or not,--I don't know any more than you do. I jest put
+down the facts, and you can draw your own inferences from 'em, and draw
+'em jest as fur as you want to, and as many of 'em.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON BRINGING CICELY'S TELEGRAM.]
+
+But that night, way along in the night, as I lay awake a musin' on it,
+and a wonderin',--for I say plain that my specks hain't strong enough to
+see through the mysteries that wrap us round on every side,--I s'posed
+my companion wus asleep; but he spoke out sudden like, and decided, as
+if I had been a disputin' of him,--
+
+"Yes, most probable she dremp it."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I hain't disputed you."
+
+"Hain't you a goin' to?" says he.
+
+"No," says I. And that seemed to quiet him down, and he went to sleep.
+
+And I give up, that most probable she did, or didn't, one of the two.
+
+[Illustration: "MOST PROBABLE SHE DREMP IT."]
+
+But anyway, from that night, she didn't worry one bit about the boy.
+
+She would talk to him sights about his bein' a good boy, but she would
+act and talk as if she was _sure_ he would. She would look at him, not
+with the old, pitiful, agonized look, but with a sweet and happy light
+in her eyes.
+
+And I guessed that she thought that the laws would be changed before
+the boy was of age. I thought that she felt real encouraged to think
+the march of civilization was a marchin' on, pretty slow but sure,
+and, before the boy got old enough to go out into a world full of
+temptations, there would be wiser laws, purer influences, to help the
+boy to be a good and noble man, which is about the best thing we know
+of, here below.
+
+No, she never worried one worry about him after that day, not a single
+worry. But she made her will, and it was fixed lawful too. She wanted
+Paul to stay with us till he was old enough to send off to school and
+college. And she wanted her property and Paul's too, if he should die
+before he was of age, should be used to found a school, and a home for
+the children of drunkards. A good school and a Christian home, to teach
+them and help them to be good, and good citizens.
+
+Josiah Allen and Thomas J. and I was appinted to see to it, appinted
+by law. It was to be right in them buildings that wus used now for
+dram-shops: them very housen was to be used to send out good influences
+and spirits into the world instead of the vile, murderous, brutal
+spirits, they wus sendin' out now.
+
+And wuzn't it sort o' pitiful to think on, that Cicely had to _die_
+before her property could be used as she wanted it to be,--could be
+used to send out blessings into the world, instead of 'cursings and
+wickedness, as it was now? It was pitiful to look on it with the eye of
+a woman; but I kep' still, and tried to look on it with the eye of the
+United States, and held firm.
+
+And we give her our solemn promises, that in case the job fell to us
+to do, it should be tended to, to the very best of our three abilities.
+Thomas J., bein' a good lawyer, could be relied on.
+
+The executor consented to it,--I s'pose because he was so dretful
+polite, and he thought it would be a comfort to Cicely. He knew there
+wuzn't much danger of its ever takin' place, for Paul was a healthy
+child. And his appetite was perfectly startlin' to any one who never see
+a child's appetite.
+
+I estimated, and estimated calmly, that there wuzn't a hour of the day
+that he couldn't eat a good, hearty meal. But truly, it needed a strong
+diet to keep up his strength. For oh! oh! the questions that child would
+ask! He would get me and Philury pantin' for breath in the house, and
+then go out with calmness and strength to fatigue his uncle Josiah and
+Ury nearly unto death.
+
+But they loved him, and so did I, with a deep, pantin', tired-out
+affection. We loved him better and better as the days rolled by: the
+tireder we got with him seemin'ly, the more we loved him.
+
+But one hope that had boyed me up durin' the first weeks of my
+intercourse with him, died out. I did think, that, in the course of
+time, he would get all asked out. There wouldn't be a thing more in
+heavens or on earth, or under the earth, that he hadn't enquired in
+perticular about.
+
+But as days passed by, I see the fallicy of my hopes. Insperation seemed
+to come to him; questions would spring up spontanious in his mind; the
+more he asked, the more spontaniouser they seemed to spring.
+
+Now, for instance, one evenin' he asked me about 3,000 questions about
+the Atlantic Ocian, its whales and sharks and tides and steamships and
+islands and pirates and cable and sailors and coral and salt, and etc.,
+etc., and etcetery; and after a hour or two he couldn't think of another
+thing to ask, seemin'ly. And I begun to get real encouraged, though
+fagged to the very outmost limit of fag, when he drew a long breath, and
+says with a perfectly fresh, vigorous look,--
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY ASKING QUESTIONS.]
+
+"Now less begin on the Pacific."
+
+And I answered kindly, but with firmness,--
+
+"I can't tackle any more ocians to-night, I am too tuckered out."
+
+"Well," says he, glancin' out of the window at the new moon which
+hung like a slender golden bow in the west, "don't you think the moon
+to-night is shaped some like a hammock? and if I set down in it with my
+feet hanging out, would I be dizzy? and if I should curl my feet up, and
+lay back in it, and sail--and sail--and sail up into the sky, could I
+find out about things up in the heavens? Could I find the One up there
+that set me to breathing? And who made the One that made me? And where
+was I before I was made?--and uncle Josiah and Ury? And why wouldn't I
+tell him where we was before we was anywhere? and if we wasn't anywhere,
+did I suppose we would want to be somewhere? and _say_--SAY"--
+
+Oh, dear me! dear me! how I did suffer!
+
+But a better child never lived than he was, and I would have loved to
+seen anybody dispute it. He was a lovely child, and very deep.
+
+And he would back up to you, and get up into your lap, with such a calm,
+assured air of owning you, as if you was his possession by right of
+discovery. And he would look up into your face with such a trustin',
+angelic look as he tackled you, that, no matter how tuckered out you
+would get, you was jest as ready for him the next time, jest as ready to
+be tackled and tuckered.
+
+He was up with his mother a good deal. He would get up on the bed, and
+lay by her side; and she would hold him close, and talk good to him,
+dretful good.
+
+I heard her tellin' him one day, that, "if ever he had a man's influence
+and strength, he must use them wisely, and deal tenderly and gently
+by those who were weaker, and in his power. That a manly man was never
+ashamed of doing what was right, no matter how many opposed him; that it
+was manly and noble to be pure and good, and helpful to all who needed
+help.
+
+"And he must remember, if he ever got tired out and discouraged trying
+to be good himself, and helping others to be good, that he was never
+alone, that his loving Father would always be with him, and _she_
+should. She should never be far away from her boy.
+
+"And it would only be a little while at the longest, before she should
+take him in her arms again, before life here would end, and the new and
+glorious life begin, that he must fit himself for. That life here was so
+short that it wasn't worth while to spend any part of it in less worthy
+work than in loving and serving with all his strength God and man."
+
+And I thought as I listened to her, that her talk had the simplicity of
+a child, and the wisdom of all the philosiphers.
+
+Yes, she would talk to him dretful good, a holdin' him close in her
+arms, and lookin' on him with that fur-off, happy look in her eyes, that
+I loved and hated to see,--loved to see because it was so beautiful and
+sweet, hated to see because it seemed to set her so fur apart from all
+of us.
+
+It seemed as though, while her body was here below, she herself was a
+livin' in another world than ourn: you could see its bright radience in
+her eyes, hear its sweet and peaceful echoes in her voice.
+
+She was with us, and she wuzn't with us; and I'd smile and cry about it,
+and cry and smile, and couldn't help it, and didn't want to.
+
+And seein' her so satisfied about the boy--why, seein' her feel so good
+about him, made us feel good too. And seein' her so contented and happy,
+made us contented and happy--some.
+
+And so the peaceful weeks went by, Cicely growin' weaker and weaker
+all the time in body, but happier and happier in her mind; so sweet and
+serene, that we all felt, that, instead of being sad, it was somethin'
+beautiful to die.
+
+And as the long, sweet days passed by, the look in her eyes grew
+clearer,--the look that reminded us of the summer skies in early
+mornin', soft and dark, with a prophecy in them of the coming brightness
+and glory of the full day.
+
+[Illustration: TIRZAH ANN AND MAGGIE IN THE DEMOCRAT.]
+
+The mornin' of the last day in June Cicely was not so well; and I sent
+for the doctor in the mornin', and told Ury to have Tirzah Ann and
+Maggie come home and spend the day. Which they did.
+
+And in the afternoon she grew worse so fast, that towards night I sent
+for the doctor again.
+
+He didn't give any hope, and said the end was very near. A little before
+night the boys come,--Thomas Jefferson and Whitfield.
+
+The sun went down; and it was a clear, beautiful evenin', though there
+was no moon. All was still in the house: the lamp was lighted, but the
+doors and windows was open, and the smell of the blossoms outside come
+in sweet; and every thing seemed so peacful and calm, that we could not
+feel sorrowful, much as we loved her.
+
+She had wanted the boy on the bed with her; and I told Josiah and the
+children we would go out, and leave her alone with him. Only, the doctor
+sot by the window, with the lamp on a little stand by the side of him,
+and the mornin'-glories hangin' their clusters down between him and the
+sweet, still night outside.
+
+Cicely's voice was very low and faint; but we could hear her talkin' to
+him, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was
+all still, and we heard the doctor go to the bedside; and we all went
+in,--Josiah and the children and me. And as we stood there, a light fell
+on Cicely's face,--every one in the room saw it,--a white, pure
+light, like no other light on earth, unless it was something like that
+wonderful new light--that has a soul. It was something like that clear
+white light, falling through a soft shade. It was jest as plainly
+visible to us as the lamplight at the other end of the room.
+
+It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on her
+smilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from us
+all. For that strange, beautiful glow on her face wrapped her about,
+separated her from us all, who stood outside.
+
+The boy had fallen asleep, his dimpled arms around her neck, and his
+moist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to her
+heart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed the
+boy.
+
+She heard voices we could not hear, for she answered them in low
+tones,--contented, happy tones. She saw faces we couldn't see, for she
+looked at them with wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us,
+fur away from us who loved her,--we who were on this earth still. Love
+still held her here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the
+human; but her sweet soul had got with its true kindred, the pure in
+heart.
+
+[Illustration: DEATH OF CICELY.]
+
+But still her arms was round the boy,--white, soft arms of flesh, that
+held him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes
+on him; and, oh! what a look that was,--a look of such full peace, and
+rapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all that
+should happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, had
+blossomed, and bore the ripe fruit of blessedness.
+
+At last that beautiful light grew dimmer, and more dim, till it was
+gone--gone with the pure soul of our sweet Cicely.
+
+That night, way along in the night, I wuzn't sleeping, and I wuzn't
+crying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in my
+mind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could
+never forget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when
+they would see an angel standin' with furled wings outside their tents.
+
+I thought Josiah was asleep; but it seems he wuzn't, for he spoke out
+sort o' decided like,--
+
+"Most probable it was the lamp."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+It was a lovely mornin' about three weeks after Cicely's death. Josiah
+had to go to Jonesville to mill, and the boy wanted to go to; and so I
+put on his little cloak and hat, and told him he might go.
+
+We didn't act cast down and gloomy before the boy, Josiah and me didn't.
+He had worried for his ma dretfully, at first. But we had made every
+thing of him, and petted him. And I had told him that she had gone to a
+lovely place, and was there a waitin' for him. And I would say it to him
+with as cheerful a face as I could. (I knew I could do my own cryin',
+out to one side.)
+
+And he believed me. He believed every word I said to him. And he would
+ask me sights and sights of questions about "the _place_."
+
+And "if it was inside the gate, that uncle Josiah had read about,--that
+gate that was big and white, like a pearl? And if it would float down
+through the sky some day, and stand still in front of him? And would
+the gate swing open so he could see into the City? and would it be all
+glorious with golden streets, and shining, and full of light? And
+would his mamma Cicely stand just inside, and reach out her arms to
+him?--those pretty white arms."
+
+And then the boy would sob and cry. And I'd soothe him, and swaller
+hard, and say "Yes," and didn't think it was wicked, when he would be a
+sobbin' so.
+
+And then he'd ask, "Would she take him in her arms, and be glad to see
+her own little boy again? And would he have long to wait?"
+
+And I'd comfort him, and tell him, "No, it wouldn't be but a little time
+to wait."
+
+And didn't think it was wicked, for it wuzn't long anyway. For "our days
+are but shadows that flee away."
+
+Wall, he loved us, some. And we loved him, and did well by him; and
+bein' a child, we could sometimes comfort him with childish things.
+
+And this mornin' he wus all excitement about goin' to Jonesville with
+his uncle Josiah. And I gin him some pennys to get some oranges for him
+and the babe, and they set off feelin' quite chirk.
+
+And I sot down to mend a vest for my Josiah. And I was a settin' there a
+mendin' it,--one of the pockets had gin out, and it was frayed round the
+edges.
+
+And I sot there a sewin' on that fray, peaceful and calm and serene as
+the outside of the vest, which was farmer's satin, and very smooth and
+shinin'. The weather also wus as mild and serene as the vest, if not
+serener. I had got my work all done up as slick as a pin: the floor
+glittered like yellow glass, the stove shone a agreable black, a good
+dinner was a cookin'. And I sot there, happy, as I say; for though,
+when I had done so much work that mornin', if that vest had belonged to
+anybody else, it would have looked like a stent to me, I didn't mind it,
+for it was for my Josiah: and love makes labor light,--light as day.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this, and a thinkin' that though I had jest told
+Josiah, from a sense of duty, that "he had broke that pocket down by
+luggin' round so much stuff in it, and there was no sense in actin' as
+if he could carry round a hull car-load of things in his vest-pocket;"
+though I had spoken to him thus, from a sense of duty, tryin' to keep
+him straight and upright in his demeaner,--still, I was a thinkin' how
+pleasant it wuz to work for them you loved, and that loved you: for
+though he had snapped me up considerable snappish, and said "he should
+carry round in his pockets as much as he was a minter; and if I didn't
+want to mend it, I could let it alone," and had throwed it down in the
+corner, and slammed the door considerable hard when he went out, still,
+I knew that this slight pettishness was only the light bubbles that
+rises above the sparkling wine. I knew his love for me lay pure and
+clear and sparklin' in the very depths of his soul.
+
+I was a settin' there, thinkin' about it, and thinkin' how true love,
+such as mine and hisen, glorified a earthly existence, when all of a
+sudden I heard a rap come onto the kitchen door right behind me; and I
+says, "Come in." And a tall, slim feller entered, with light hair, and
+sort o' thin, and a patient, determined countenance onto him. A sort
+of a persistent look to him, as if he wuzn't one to be turned round
+by trifles. I didn't dislike his looks a mite at first, and sot him a
+chair.
+
+But little did I think what was a comin'. For, if you will believe it,
+he hadn't much more than got sot down when he says to me right there, in
+the middle of the forenoon, and right to my face,--the mean, miserable,
+lowlived scamp,--says he, right there, in broad daylight, and without
+blushing, or any thing, says he,--
+
+"I called this morning, mom, to see if I couldn't sell you a feller."
+
+"Sell me a feller!" I jest made out to say, for I wus fairly paralyzed
+by his impudence. "Sell me a feller!"
+
+"Yes: I have got some of the best kinds they make, and I didn't know but
+I could sell you one."
+
+Sez I, gettin' my tongue back, "Buy a feller! you ask me, at my age, and
+with my respectability, and after carryin' round such principles as
+I have been carryin' round for years and years, you ask me to buy a
+feller!"
+
+"Yes: I didn't know but you would want one. I have got the best kind
+there is made."
+
+"I'll let you know, young man," says I, "I'll let you know that I have
+got a feller of my own, as good a one as was ever made, one I have had
+for 20 years and over."
+
+"Wall, mom," says he, with that stiddy, determined way of hisen, "a
+feller that you have had for 20 years must be out of gear by this time."
+
+"Out of gear!" says I, speakin' up sharp. "You will be out of gear
+yourself, young man, if I hear any more such talk out of your head."
+
+"I hope you will excuse me, mom," says he, in that patient way of hisen.
+"It hain't my way to run down anybody's else's fellers."
+
+"Wall, I guess you hadn't better try it again in this house," says I
+warmly. "I guess it won't be very healthy for you."
+
+[Illustration: AGENT TRYING TO SELL SAMANTHA A FELLER.]
+
+"Can't I sell you some other attachment, mom? I have got 'em of all
+kinds."
+
+"Sell me another attachment? No, sir. You can't sell me another
+attachment. My attachment is as firm and endurin' as the rocks, and has
+always been, and is one not to be bought and sold."
+
+"I presume yours was good in the day of 'em, mom, but they must be
+old-fashioned. I have the very best and newest attachments of all kinds.
+But I make a specialty of my fellers. You'd better let me sell you a
+feller, mom."
+
+I declare for't, my first thought was, to turn him right outdoors, and
+shet the door in his face. And then agin, I thought, I am a member of
+the meetin'-house. I must be patient and long sufferin', and may be here
+is a chance for me to do good. Thinks'es I, if I was ever eloquent in a
+good cause, I must be now. I must convince him of the nefariousness of
+his conduct. And if soarin' in eloquence can do it, why, I must soar.
+And so I begun.
+
+Says I, wavin' my right hand in a broad, soarin', eloquent wave, "Young
+man, when you talk about buyin' and sellin' a feller, you are talkin'
+on a solemn subject,--buyin and sellin' attachments! Buyin' and sellin'
+fellers! It hain't nothin' new to me. I've hearn tell of such things,
+but little did I suppose it was a subject I should ever be tackled on.
+
+"But I have hearn of it. I have hearn of wimmen sellin' themselves to
+the highest bidder, with a minister for auctioneer and salesman. I have
+hearn of fathers and mothers sellin' beauty and innocence and youth to
+wicked old age for money--sellin' 'em right in the meetin'-house, under
+the very shadow of the steeple.
+
+[Illustration: THEM THAT SELL DOVES.]
+
+"Jerusalem hain't the only village where God's holy temple has been
+polluted by money-changers and them that sell doves. Many a sweet
+little dove of a girl is made by her father and mother, and other old
+money-changers, to walk up to God's holy altar, and swear to a lie.
+They think her tellin' that lie, makes the infamous bargain more sacred,
+makes the infamous life they have drove her into more respectable.
+
+"There was One who cleansed from such accursed traffic the old Jewish
+temples, but He walks no more with humanity. If he did, would he not
+walk up the broad aisles of our orthodox churches in American
+cities, and release these doves, and overthrow the plots of these
+money-changers?
+
+"But let me tell 'em, that though they can't see Him, He is there; and
+the lash of His righteous wrath will surely descend, not upon their
+bodies, but upon their guilty souls, teachin' them how much more
+terrible it is to sell a life, with all its rich dowery of freedom,
+happiness, purity, immortality."
+
+Here my breath gin out, for I had used my very deepest principle tone;
+and it uses up a fearful ammount of wind, and is tuckerin' beyend what
+any one could imagine of tucker. You _have_ to stop to collect breath.
+
+And he looked at me with that same stiddy, patient, modest look of
+hisen; and says he, in that low, determined voice,--
+
+"What you say, madam, is very true, and even beautiful and eloquent: but
+time is valuable to me; and as I said, I stopped here this morning to
+see if I could sell"--
+
+"I know you did: I heard you with my own ears. If it had come through
+two or three, or even one, pair of ears besides my own, I couldn't have
+believed 'em--I never could have believed that any human creeter, male
+or female, would have dared to stand up before me, and try to sell me a
+feller! _Sell_ a feller to me! Why, even in my young days, do you s'pose
+I would ever try to _buy_ a feller?
+
+"No, sir! fellers must come free and spontaneous? or not at all. Never
+was I the woman to advance one step towards any feller in the way of
+courtship--havin' no occasion for it, bein' one that had more offers
+than I knew what to do with, as I often tell my husband, Josiah Allen,
+now, in our little differences of opinion. 'Time and agin,' as I tell
+him, 'I might have married, but held back.' And never would I have
+married, never, had not love gripped holt of my very soul, and drawed me
+along up to the marriage alter. I loved the feller I married, and he was
+the only feller in the hull world for me."
+
+Says he in that low, gentle tone, and lookin' modest and patient as a
+lily, but as determined and sot as ever a iron teakettle was sot over a
+stove,--
+
+"You are under a mistake, mom."
+
+Says I, "Don't you tell me that agin if you know what is good for
+yourself. I guess I know my own mind. I was past the age of whifflin',
+and foolin' round. I married that feller from pure love, and no other
+reason under the heavens. For there wuzn't any other reason only jest
+that, why I _should_ marry him."
+
+And for a moment, or two moments, my mind roamed back onto that old,
+mysterious question that has haunted me more or less through my natural
+life, for over twenty years. _Why_ did I marry Josiah Allen? But I
+didn't revery on it long. I was too agitated, and wrought up; and I says
+agin, in tones witherin' enough to wither him,--
+
+"The idee of sellin' me a feller!"
+
+But the chap didn't look withered a mite: he stood there firm and
+immovible, and says he,--
+
+"I didn't mean no offense, mom. Sellin' attachments is what I get my
+living by"--
+
+"Wall, I should ruther not get a livin'," says I, interruptin' of him.
+"I should ruther not live."
+
+"As I said, mom, I get my livin' that way: and one of your neighbors
+told me that your feller was an old one, and sort o' givin' out; and
+I have got 'em with all the latest improvements, and--and she thought
+mebby I could sell you one."
+
+"You miserable coot you!" says I. "Do you stop your impudent talk, or I
+will holler to Josiah. What do you s'pose I want with another feller? Do
+you s'pose I'd swap Josiah Allen for all the fellers that ever swarmed
+on the globe? What do you s'pose I care for the latest improvements? If
+a feller was made of pure gold from head to feet, with diamond eyes and
+a garnet nose, do you s'pose he would look so good to me as Josiah Allen
+duz?
+
+"And I would thank the neighbers to mind their own business, and let my
+affairs alone. What if he is a gettin' old and wore out? What if he is
+a givin' out? He is always kinder spindlin' in the spring of the year.
+Some men winter harder than others: he is a little tizicky, and breathes
+short, and his liver may not be the liver it was once; but he will come
+round all right when the weather moderates. And mebby they meant to hint
+and insinuate sunthin' about his bein' so bald, and losin' his teeth.
+
+"But I'll let you know, and I'll let the neighbors know, that I didn't
+marry that man for hair; I didn't marry that man for teeth, and a
+few locks more or less, or a handful of teeth, has no power over that
+love,--that love that makes me say from the very depths of my soul, that
+my feller is one of a thousand."
+
+"I hain't disputed you, mom," says he, with his firm, patient look.
+"I dare presume to say that your feller was good in the day of such
+fellers. But every thing has its day: we make fellers far different
+now."
+
+Says I sarcasticly, givin' him quite a piercin' look, "I know they do:
+I've seen 'em."
+
+"Yes, they make attachments now very different: yours is old-fashioned."
+
+"Yes, I know it is: I know that love, such love as hisen and mine, and
+I know that truth and fidelity and constancy, _are_ old-fashioned. But
+I thank God that our souls are clothed with that beautiful old fashion,
+that seamless, flawless robe that wus cut out in Eden, and a few true
+souls have wore ever since."
+
+"But your attachment will grow older and older, and give out entirely
+after a while. What will you do then?"
+
+"My attachment will _never_ give out."
+
+"But mom"--
+
+"No, you needn't argue and contend--I say it will _never_ give out. It
+is a heavenly gift dropped down from above, entirely unbeknown. True
+love is not sought after, it comes; and when it comes, it stays.
+Talk about love gettin' old--love _never_ grows old; talk about love
+goin'--love _never_ goes: that which goes is not love, though it has
+been called so time and agin. Talk about love dyin'--why, it _can't_
+die, no more than the souls can, in which its sweet light is born.
+Why, it is a flame that God Himself kindles: it is a bit of His own
+brightness a shinin' down through the darkness of our earthly life, and
+is as immortal and indestructible as His own glory.
+
+"It is the only fountain of Eternal Youth that gushes up through this
+dreary earthly soil, for the refreshin' of men and wimmen, in which the
+weary soul can bathe itself, and find rest."
+
+"Sometimes," says he, sort o' dreamily, "sometimes we repair old
+fellers."
+
+"Wall, you won't repair my feller, I can let you know that. I won't
+have him repaired. The impudence of the hull idee," says I, roustin' up
+afresh, "goes ahead of any thing I ever dreamed of, of impudence. Repair
+my feller! I don't want him any different. I want him jest as he is. I
+would scorn to repair him. I _could_ if I wanted to,--his teeth could
+be sharpened up, what he has got, and new ones sot in. And I could
+cover his head over with red curls; or I could paint it black, and paste
+transfer flowers onto it. I could have a sot flower sot right on the top
+of his bald head, and a trailin' vine runnin' round his forward. Or I
+could trim it round with tattin', if I wanted to, and crystal beads.
+I could repair him up so he would look gay. But do you s'pose that any
+artificials that was ever made, or any hair, if it was as luxuriant as
+Ayer'ses Vigor, could look so good to me as that old bald head that I
+have seen a shinin' acrost the table from me for so many years?
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AFTER BEING REPAIRED.]
+
+"I tell you, there is memories and joys and sorrows a clusterin' round
+that head, that I wouldn't swap for all the beauty and the treasures of
+the world.
+
+"Memories of happy mornin's dewy fresh, with cool summer breezes a
+comin' in through the apple-blows by the open door, and the light of
+the happy sunrise a shinin' on that old bald head, and then gleamin' off
+into my happy heart.
+
+"There is memories of pleasant evenin' hours, with the tea-table drawed
+up in front of the south door, and the sweet southern wind a comin' in
+over the roses, and the tender light of the sunset, and the waverin'
+shadows of the honeysuckles and mornin'-glorys, fallin' on us, wrappin'
+us all round, and wrappin' all of the rest of the world out."
+
+Mebby the young chap said sunthin' here, but it was entirely unbeknown
+to me; though I thought I heard the murmur of his voice makin' a sort
+of a tinklin' accompinment to my thoughts, sunthin' like the babble of a
+brook a runnin' along under forest boughs, when the wind with its mighty
+melody is sweepin' through 'em. Great emotions was sweepin' along with
+power, and couldn't be stayed. And I went right on, not sensin' a thing
+round me,--
+
+"There is memories of sabbath drives, in fair June mornin's, through the
+old lane alder and willow fringed, with the brook runnin' along on one
+side of it; where the speckled trout broke the Sunday quiet by dancin'
+up through the brown and gold shadows of the cool water, and the odor of
+the pine woods jest beyend comin' fresh and sweet to us.
+
+[Illustration: "GOIN' TO THE REVIVAL MEETING."]
+
+"Memories of how that road and that face looked in the week-day dusk, as
+we sot out for the revival meetin', when the sun had let down his long
+bars of gold and crimson and yellow, and had got over 'em, and sunk
+down behind 'em out of sight. And we could ketch glimpses through the
+willow-sprays of them shinin' bars a layin' down on the gray twilight
+field. And fur away over the green hills and woods of the east, the moon
+was a risin', big and calm and silvery. And we could hear the plaintive
+evenin' song of the thrush, and the crickets' happy chirp, till we got
+nearer the schoolhouse, when they sort o' blended in with 'There is a
+fountain filled with blood,' and 'Come, ye disconsolate.'
+
+"And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles,
+shone down and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as
+he helped me out of the wagon.
+
+"Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of
+peace and happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every
+time about the eternal hills, and the shadow of the Rock, and the
+Everlastin' Arms that was a holdin' us both up, me and Josiah, and the
+Everlastin' Love that was wrappin' us round, helpin' us onward by these
+very joys, these very sorrows.
+
+"Memories of the midnight lamp lightin' it up in the chamber of the
+sick, in the long, lonesome hours before day-dawn.
+
+"Memories of its bendin' over the sick ones in happier mornin's, as he
+carried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places at
+the table.
+
+"Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under the
+rainbow when the storm had passed. It stands out from a background of
+winter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightness
+of them seasons a hangin' over it.
+
+"Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier and
+more blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a little
+coffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by
+me under the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for the
+future.
+
+"That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart,
+like a beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do
+you s'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to
+me as that duz? Do you s'pose I will ever have it repaired upon? never!
+I _won't_ repair him. I won't have him dickered and fooled with. Not at
+all.
+
+"He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth
+if he hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long
+as Josiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and
+keep it down here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as
+he is too.
+
+"And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!" says I,
+kinder comin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen,
+and gossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations.
+And as I lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on
+one foot, with his watch, a big silver one, in his hand, and gazin'
+pensively onto it; and he says,--
+
+"Your remarks are worthy, mom--but somewhat lengthy," says he, in a
+voice of pain; "nearly nine moments long: but," says he, sort o' bracin'
+up agin on both feet, "I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come
+into this neighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated
+that I got the idee, from what they said, that your feller didn't work
+good."
+
+"Didn't work good! You impudent creeter you! What of it? What if
+he don't work at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the
+neighbors? I guess he is able to lay by for a few days if he wants to."
+
+"You are laborin' under a mistake, mom."
+
+"No, I hain't laborin' under no mistake! And don't you tell me agin that
+I be. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest;
+and whose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get
+to goin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low
+as to watch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute
+they set down; when I can't find nothin' nobler to do,--I'll spend my
+time talkin' about hens' teeth, and lettis seed."
+
+Says he, lookin' as amiable and patient as a factory-cloth rag-babe, but
+as determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic,--
+
+"You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I
+could fix over your feller if you wanted me to"--
+
+Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on this
+seethin' tumult of anger fell this one calmin' word,--_Meeting-house!_ I
+felt I must be calm,--calm and impressive; so says I,--
+
+"You need not repeat your infamous proposal. I say to you agin, that the
+form where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may be
+more beautiful, and even taller, but they don't have the same look to
+'em. It is one of the strangest things," says I, fallin' agin' a little
+ways down into a revery,--
+
+"It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion large
+and boundless enough to fill eternity and old space itself, should all
+be gathered up and centered into so small a temple, and such a lookin'
+one, too, sometimes," says I pensively, as I thought it over, how sort
+o' meachin' and bashful lookin' Josiah Allen wuz, when I married to him.
+And how small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it
+can be, but so it is.
+
+"_Why_ Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lot
+entertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell
+you plain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should
+ask me where Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go,
+it stays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free
+gifts from above, free as the sun, or the showers--that fall down in
+a drouth--and perfectly unbeknown, like them. Such a love is
+oncalculatin', givin' all, unquestionin', unfearin', no dickering no
+holdin' back lookin' for better chances."
+
+"Yes, mom," says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one foot
+some like a patient old gander in the fall of the year.
+
+"Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your
+very sociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is
+really consistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I
+first come in, I merely called to see if I could sell you"--
+
+"Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heard
+from mortal lips, be he male, or be he female. The idee of _me_, Josiah
+Allen's wife, who has locked arms with principle, and has kep' stiddy
+company with it, for years and years--the idee of _me_ buyin' a feller!
+I dare persume to say"--
+
+Says I more mildly, as he took up his hat and little box he had, and
+started for the door,--and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so soon,
+I felt softer towards him, as folks will towards burdens when they are
+bein' lifted from 'em,--
+
+"I dare persume to say, you thought I was a single woman, havin'
+been told time and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair
+complected. I won't think," says I, feelin' still softer towards him as
+I see him a openin' the door,--
+
+"I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made your
+infamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' human
+bein', married or single."
+
+He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable
+of a meek voice,--
+
+"I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest
+firm in North America."
+
+"What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if
+he belongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle--that is what I
+am a workin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin'
+a feller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that
+had the riches of Creshus; it wouldn't make a mite of difference to me.
+
+"As the poet Mr. Burns says,--I have heard Thomas J. repeat it time and
+agin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right, but
+the meanin' is,--
+
+"Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller
+is a feller for all that."
+
+But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind and
+eloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing--if he didn't turn round
+at the foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient, determined
+attitude of hisen, say, says he,--
+
+[Illustration: "CAN'T I SELL YOU A FELLER?"]
+
+"You are mistaken, mom. I merely stopped this mornin' to see if I could
+sell you"--
+
+But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the
+west chamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't
+know how long he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come
+down to get dinner, and that was all I cared for.
+
+I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you,
+my eyes fairly snapped, I was that mad and rousted up about it: but he
+said,--
+
+"He believed it was a sewin'-machine man, and wanted to sell me a feller
+for my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent in
+Jonesville that was a sendin' out agents with all sorts of attachments,
+some with hemmers, and some with fellers."
+
+But I didn't believe a word of it: I believe he was _mean_. A mean,
+low-lived, insultin' creeter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely died in June; and how the days will pass by, whether we are
+joyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September
+had stepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and
+curchied to us (allegory).
+
+Ah, yes! time passes by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the days
+pass slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter.
+
+But the time, though goin' fast, had passed by very quietly and
+peacefully to Josiah Allen and me.
+
+Every thing on the farm wus prosperous. The children was well and happy;
+the babe beautiful, and growin' more lovely every day.
+
+Ury had took his money, and bought a good little house and 4 acres of
+land in our neighborhood, and had took our farm for the next and ensuin'
+year. And they was happy and contented. And had expectations. They had
+(under my direction) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely
+pilgrimage had seemed to pass from Philury's mind.
+
+The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better and
+better, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over
+50 questions on one subject, or from 50 to 60; and so we got along
+first-rate.
+
+And we loved him. Why, there hain't no tellin' how we did love him. And
+he would talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that he
+would see her bime by, and that she loved him now jest as much as ever,
+and that she _wanted him_ to be a _good boy_.
+
+And he wuz a beautiful boy, if his chin wuz sort o' weak. He would try
+to tell the truth, and do as I would tell him to--and would, a good
+deal of the time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and
+repeat lots of Scripture passages, and would ask more'n 100 questions
+about 'em, if I would let him.
+
+There was one verse I made him repeat every night after he said his
+prayers: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."
+
+And I always would say to him, earnest and deep, that his ma was pure in
+heart.
+
+And he'd say, "Does she see God now?"
+
+And I'd say, "Yes."
+
+And he would say, "When shall I see Him?"
+
+And I'd say, "When you are good enough."
+
+And he'd say, "If I was good enough, could I see Him now?"
+
+And I would say, "Yes."
+
+And then he would tell me that he would try to be good; and I would say,
+"Wall, so do."
+
+And late one afternoon, a bright, sunny afternoon, he got tired of
+playin'. He had been a horse, and little Let Peedick had been a drivin'
+him. I had heard 'em a whinnerin' out in the yard, and a prancin', and a
+hitchin' each other to the post.
+
+But he had got tired about sundown, and come in, and leaned up against
+my lap, and asked me about 88 questions about his ma and the City.
+He had never forgot what his uncle Josiah had read about it, and he
+couldn't seem to talk enough about it.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY AND LET PEEDICK PLAYING HORSE.]
+
+And says he, with a dreamy look way off into the glowin' western sky,
+"My mamma Cicely said it would swing right down out of heaven some day,
+and would open, and I could walk in; and don't you believe mamma will
+stand just inside of the gate as she used to, and say, 'Here comes my
+own little boy'?"
+
+And he wus jest a askin' me this,--and it beats all, how many times he
+had tackled me on this very subject,--when Whitfield drove up in a great
+hurry. Little Samantha Joe had been taken sick, very sick, and extremely
+sudden.
+
+Scarlet-fever was round, and she and the boy had both been exposed. I
+was all excitement and agitation; and I hurried off without changin' my
+dress, or any thing. But I told Josiah to put the boy to bed about nine.
+
+Wall, there was a uncommon sunset that night. The west was all
+aflame with light. And as we rode on towards Jonesville right towards
+it,--though very anxious about the babe,--I drawed Whitfield's attention
+to it.
+
+The hull of the west did look, for all the world, like a great, shinin'
+white gate, open, and inside all full of radience, rose, and yellow, and
+gold light, a streamin' out, and changin', and glowin', movin' about, as
+clouds will.
+
+It seemed sometimes, as if you could almost see a white, shadowy figure,
+inside the gate, a lookin' out, and watchin' with her arms reached out;
+and then it would all melt into the light again, as clouds will.
+
+It wus the beautifulest sunset I had seen, that year, by far. And we
+s'pose, from what we could learn afterwards, that the boy, too, was
+attracted by that wonderful glory in the west, and strolled out to the
+orchard to look at it. It wus a favorite place with him, anyway. And
+there wus a certain tree that he loved to lay under. A sick-no-further
+apple. It wus the very tree I found him under that day in the spring,
+a lookin' up into the sky, a watchin' for the City to come down from
+heaven. You could see a good ways from there off into the west, and out
+over the lake. And the sunset must have looked beautiful from there,
+anyway.
+
+Wall, my poor companion Josiah wus all rousted up in his mind about the
+babe, and he never thought of the boy till it was half-past nine; and
+then he hurried off to find him, skairt, but s'posen he was up on
+his bed with his clothes on, or asleep on the lounges, or carpets, or
+somewhere.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL LOOKING AT THE SUNSET.]
+
+But he couldn't find him: he hunted all over the house, and out in the
+barn, and the door-yard, and the street; and then he rousted up Mr.
+Gowdey's folks, our nearest neighbors, to see if they could help find
+him.
+
+Wall, Miss Gowdey, when she wus a bringin' in her clothes,--it
+was Monday night,--she had seen him out in the orchard under the
+sick-no-further tree.
+
+And there they found him, fast asleep--where they s'pose he had fell
+asleep unexpected to himself.
+
+It wus then almost eleven o'clock, and he was wet with dew: the dew
+was heavy that night. And when they rousted him up, he was so hoarse he
+couldn't speak. And before mornin' he was in a high fever. They sent for
+me and the doctor at daybreak. Little Samantha Joe wus better: it only
+proved to be a hard cold that ailed her.
+
+But the boy had the scarlet-fever, so the doctor said. And he grew worse
+fast. He didn't know me at all when I got home, but wus a talkin' fast
+about his mamma Cicely; and he asked me "If the gate had swung down, for
+him to go through into the City, and if his mamma was inside, reachin'
+out her arms to him?"
+
+And then he would get things all mixed up, and talk about things he had
+heard of, and things he hadn't heard of. And then he would talk about
+how bright it was inside the gate, and how he see it from the orchard.
+And so we knew he had been attracted out by the bright light in the
+west.
+
+And then he would talk about the strangest things. His little tongue
+couldn't be still a minute; but it never could, for that matter.
+
+Till along about the middle of the afternoon he become quiet, and
+grew so white and still that I knew before the doctor told me, that we
+couldn't keep the boy.
+
+And I thought, and couldn't help it, of what Cicely had worried so
+about; and though my heart sunk down and down, to think of givin' the
+boy up,--for I loved him,--yet I couldn't help thinkin' that with his
+temperament, and as the laws was now, the grave was about the only place
+of safety that the Lord Himself could find for the boy.
+
+And it wus about sundown that he died. I had been down-stairs for
+somethin' for him; and as I went back into the room, I see his eyes was
+wide open, and looked natural.
+
+[Illustration: "SAY!"]
+
+And as I bent over him, he looked up at me, and said in a faint voice,
+but rational,--
+
+"Say"--
+
+And I couldn't help a smilin' right there, with the tears a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water. He wanted to ask some question.
+
+But he couldn't say no more. His little, eager, questionin' soul was
+too fur gone towards that land where the hard questions we can't answer
+here, will be made plain to us.
+
+But he looked up into my face with that sort of a questionin' look, and
+then up over my head, and beyend it--and beyend--and I see there settled
+down over his face the sort of a satisfied look that he would have when
+I had answered his questions; and I sort o' smiled, and said to myself,
+I guessed the Lord had answered it.
+
+And so he went through the gate of the City, and was safe. And that is
+the way God took care of the boy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sweet Cicely, by
+Josiah Allen's Wife: Marietta Holley
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diff --git a/7251.zip b/7251.zip
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+Project Gutenberg's Sweet Cicely, by Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
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+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
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+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Sweet Cicely
+       Or Josiah Allen as a Politician
+
+Author: Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)
+
+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7251]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on March 31, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWEET CICELY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Richard Prairie, Tiffany Vergon, Charles Aldarondo,
+Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SWEET CICELY.]
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+OR
+
+JOSIAH ALLEN
+
+AS A
+
+POLITICIAN
+
+BY
+
+"JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE"
+
+(MARIETTA HOLLEY)
+
+_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
+
+EIGHTH EDITION
+
+TO
+
+THE SAD-EYED MOTHERS,
+
+WHO, LIKE CICELY,
+
+ARE LOOKING ACROSS THE CRADLE OF THEIR
+
+BOYS INTO THE GREAT WORLD OF
+
+TEMPTATION AND DANGER,
+
+This Book is Dedicated.
+
+PREFACE.
+
+Josiah and me got to talkin' it over. He said it wuzn't right to think
+more of one child than you did of another.
+
+And I says, "That is so, Josiah."
+
+And he says, "Then, why did you say yesterday, that you loved sweet Cicely
+better than any of the rest of your thought-children? You said you loved
+'em all, and was kinder sorry for the hull on 'em, but you loved her the
+best: what made you say it?"
+
+Says I, "I said it, to tell the truth."
+
+"Wall, what did you do it _for_?" he kep' on, determined to get a
+reason.
+
+"I did it," says I, a comin' out still plainer,--"I did it to keep from
+lyin'."
+
+"Wall, when you say it hain't right to feel so, what makes you?"
+
+"I don't know, Josiah," says I, lookin' at him, and beyend him, way into
+the depths of emotions and feelin's we can't understand nor help,--
+
+"I don't know why, but I know I do."
+
+And he drawed on his boots, and went out to the barn.
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+SWEET CICELY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+It was somewhere about the middle of winter, along in the forenoon, that
+Josiah Allen was telegrafted to, unexpected. His niece Cicely and her
+little boy was goin' to pass through Jonesville the next day on her way to
+visit her aunt Mary (aunt on her mother's side), and she would stop off,
+and make us a short visit if convenient.
+
+We wuz both tickled, highly tickled; and Josiah, before he had read the
+telegraf ten minutes, was out killin' a hen. The plumpest one in the flock
+was the order I give; and I wus a beginnin' to make a fuss, and cook up
+for her.
+
+We loved her jest about as well as we did Tirzah Ann. Sweet Cicely was
+what we used to call her when she was a girl. Sweet Cicely is a plant that
+has a pretty white posy. And our niece Cicely was prettier and purer and
+sweeter than any posy that ever grew: so we thought then, and so we think
+still.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH TELLING THE NEWS TO SAMANTHA.]
+
+Her mother was my companion's sister,--one of a pair of twins, Mary and
+Maria, that thought the world of each other, as twins will. Their mother
+died when they wus both of 'em babies; and they wus adopted by a rich
+aunt, who brought 'em up elegant, and likely too: that I will say for her,
+if she wus a 'Piscopal, and I a Methodist. I am both liberal and truthful
+--very.
+
+Maria wus Cicely's ma, and she wus left a widow when she wus a young
+woman; and Cicely wus her only child. And the two wus bound up in each
+other as I never see a mother and daughter in my life before or sense.
+
+The third year after Josiah and me wus married, Maria wusn't well, and the
+doctor ordered her out into the country for her health; and she and little
+Cicely spent the hull of that summer with us. Cicely wus about ten; and
+how we did love that girl! Her mother couldn't bear to have her out of her
+sight; and I declare, we all of us wus jest about as bad. And from that
+time they used to spend most all of their summers in Jonesville. The air
+agreed with 'em, and so did I: we never had a word of trouble. And we used
+to visit them quite a good deal in the winter season: they lived in the
+city.
+
+Wall, as Cicely got to be a young girl, I used often to set and look at
+her, and wonder if the Lord could have made a prettier, sweeter girl if he
+had tried to. She looked to me jest perfect, and so she did to Josiah.
+
+And she knew so much, too, and wus so womanly and quiet and deep. I s'pose
+it wus bein' always with her mother that made her seem older and more
+thoughtful than girls usially are. It seemed as if her great dark eyes wus
+full of wisdom beyend--fur beyend--her years, and sweetness too. Never wus
+there any sweeter eyes under the heavens than those of our niece Cicely.
+
+She wus very fair and pale, you would think at first; but, when you would
+come to look closer, you would see there was nothing sickly in her
+complexion, only it was very white and smooth,--a good deal like the pure
+white leaves of the posy Sweet Cicely. She had a gentle, tender mouth,
+rose-pink; and her cheeks wuz, when she would get rousted up and excited
+about any thing; and then it would all sort o' die out again into that
+pure white. And over all her face, as sweet and womanly as it was, there
+was a look of power, somehow, a look of strength, as if she would venture
+much, dare much, for them she loved. She had the gift, not always a happy
+one, of loving,--a strength of devotion that always has for its companion-
+trait a gift of endurance, of martyrdom if necessary.
+
+She would give all, dare all, endure all, for them she loved. You could
+see that in her face before you had been with her long enough to see it in
+her life.
+
+Her hair wus a soft, pretty brown, about the color of her eyes. And she
+wus a little body, slender, and sort o' plump too; and her arms and hands
+and neck wus soft and white as snow almost.
+
+Yes, we loved Cicely: and no one could blame us, or wonder at us for
+callin' her after the posy Sweet Cicely; for she wus prettier than any
+posy that ever blew, enough sight.
+
+Wall, she had always said she couldn't live if her mother died.
+
+But she did, poor little creeter! she did.
+
+Maria died when Cicely wus about eighteen. She had always been delicate,
+and couldn't live no longer: so she died. And Josiah and me went right
+after the poor child, and brought her home with us.
+
+[Illustration: CICELY.]
+
+She lived, Cicely did, because she wus young, and couldn't die. And Josiah
+and me wus dretful good to her; and many's the nights that I have gone
+into her room when I'd hear her cryin' way along in the night; many's the
+times I have gone in, and took her in my arms, and held her there, and
+cried with her, and soothed her, and got her to sleep, and held her in my
+arms like a baby till mornin'. Wall, she lived with us most a year that
+time; and it wus about two years after, while she wus to some of her
+father's folks'es (they wus very rich), that she met the young man she
+married,--Paul Slide.
+
+He wus a handsome young man, well-behaved, only he would drink a little
+once in a while: he'd got into the habit at college, where his mate wus
+wild, and had his turns. But he wus very pretty in his manners, Paul was,
+--polite, good-natured, generous-dispositioned,--and very rich.
+
+And as to his looks, there wuzn't no earthly fault to find with him, only
+jest his chin. And I told Josiah, that how Cicely could marry a man with
+such a chin wus a mystery to me.
+
+And Josiah said, "What is the matter with his chin?"
+
+And I says, "Why, it jest sets right back from his mouth: he hain't got no
+chin at all hardly," says I. "The place where his chin ort to be is
+nothin' but a holler place all filled up with irresolution and weakness.
+And I believe Cicely will see trouble with that chin."
+
+And then--I well remember it, for it was the very first time after
+marriage, and so, of course, the very first time in our two lives--Josiah
+called me a fool, a "dumb fool," or jest the same as called me so. He
+says, "I wouldn't be a dumb fool if I was in your place."
+
+I felt worked up. But, like warriors on a battle-field, I grew stronger
+for the fray; and the fray didn't scare me none.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SLIDE.]
+
+But I says, "You'll see if you live, Josiah Allen"; and he did.
+
+But, as I said, I didn't see how Cicely ever fell in love with a man with
+such a chin. But, as I learned afterwards, she fell in love with him under
+a fur collar. It wus on a slay-ride. And he wuz very handsome from his
+mouth up, very: his mouth wuz ruther weak. It wus a case of love at first
+sight, which I believe in considerable; and she couldn't help lovin' him,
+women are so queer.
+
+I had always said that when Cicely did love, it would go hard with her.
+Many's the offers she'd had, but didn't care for 'em. But I knew, with her
+temperament and nater, that love, if it did come to her, would come to
+stay, and it would come hard and voyalent. And so it did.
+
+She worshipped him, as I said at first, under a fur collar. And then, when
+a woman once gets to lovin' a man as she did, why, she can't help herself,
+chin or no chin. When a woman has once throwed herself in front of her
+idol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of gold, or
+holler: it hain't so much matter _what_ they be, I think. Curius,
+hain't it?
+
+It hain't the easiest thing in the world for such a woman as Cicely to
+love, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she found
+out afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his head
+with liquor; and it wus my advice to her, to give him up.
+
+And she tried to unlove him, tried to give him up.
+
+But, good land! she might jest as well have took a piece of her own heart
+out, as to take out of it her love for him: it had become a part of her.
+And he told her she could save him, her influence could redeem him, and it
+wus the only thing that could save him.
+
+And Cicely couldn't stand such talk, of course; and she believed him--
+believed that she could love him so well, throw her influence so around
+him, as to hold him back from any evil course.
+
+It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of folly
+a woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of the idee,
+to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in its utter
+uselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done--not in 98 cases out
+of a 100 at least.
+
+Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to win
+her affection,--when he is on probation, as you may say,--to stop and turn
+round in his downward course, how can she expect he will after he has got
+her, and has let down his watch, so to speak?
+
+But she loved him. And when I warned her with tears in my eyes, warned her
+that mebby it wus more than her own safety and happiness that wus
+imperilled, I could see by the look in her eyes, though she didn't say
+much, that it wusn't no use for me to talk; for she wus one of the
+constant natures that can't wobble round. And though I don't like
+wobblin', still I do honestly believe that the wobblers are happier than
+them that can't wobble.
+
+I could see jest how it wuz, and I couldn't bear to have her blamed. And I
+would tell folks,--some of the relations on her mother's side,--when they
+would say, "What a fool she wus to have him!"--I'd say to 'em, "Wall, when
+a woman sees the man she loves goin' down to ruination, and tries to
+unlove him, she'll find out jest how much harder it is to unlove him than
+to love him in the first place: they'll find out it is a tough job to
+tackle."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND THE "BLAMERS."]
+
+I said this to blamers of Cicely (relatives, the best blamers you can find
+anywhere). But, at the same time, it would have been my way, when he had
+come a courtin' me so far gone with liquor that he could hardly stand up--
+why, I should have told him plain, that I wouldn't try to set myself up as
+a rival to alcohol, and he might pay to that his attentions exclusively
+hereafter.
+
+But she didn't. And he promised sacred to abstain, and could, and did, for
+most a year; and she married him.
+
+But, jest before the marriage, I got so rousted up a thinkin' about what I
+had heard of him at college,--and I studied on his picture, which she had
+sent me, took sideways too, and I could see plain (why, he hadn't no chin
+at all, as you may say; and his lips was weak and waverin' as ever lips
+was, though sort o' amiable and fascinating),--and I got to forebodin' so
+about that chin, and my love for her wus a hunchin' me up so all the time,
+that I went to see her on a short tower, to beset her on the subject. But,
+good land! I might have saved my breath, I might have saved my tower.
+
+I cried, and she cried too. And I says to her before I thought,--
+
+"He'll be the ruin of you, Cicely."
+
+And she says, "I would rather be beaten by his hand, than to be crowned by
+another. Why, I love him, aunt Samantha."
+
+You see, that meant a awful sight to her. And as she looked at me so
+earnest and solemn, with tears in them pretty brown eyes, there wus in her
+look all that that word could possibly mean to any soul.
+
+But I cried into my white linen handkerchief, and couldn't help it, and
+couldn't help sayin', as I see that look,--
+
+"Cicely, I am afraid he will break your heart--kill you"--
+
+"Why, I am not afraid to die when I am with him. I am afraid of nothing--
+of life, or death, or eternity."
+
+Well, I see my talk was no use. I see she'd have him, chin or no chin. If
+I could have taken her up in my arms, and run away with her then and
+there, how much misery I could have saved her from! But I couldn't: I had
+the rheumatiz. And I had to give up, and go home disappointed, but
+carryin' this thought home with me on my tower,--that I had done my duty
+by our sweet Cicely, and could do no more.
+
+As I said, he promised firm to give up drinking. But, good land! what
+could you expect from that chin? That chin couldn't stand temptation if it
+came in his way. At the same time, his love for Cicely was such, and his
+good heart and his natural gentlemanly intuitions was such, that, if he
+could have been kep' out of the way of temptation, he would have been all
+right.
+
+If there hadn't been drinking-saloons right in front of that chin, if it
+could have walked along the road without runnin' right into 'em, it would
+have got along. That chin, and them waverin'-lookin', amiable lips,
+wouldn't have stirred a step out of their ways to get ruined and
+disgraced: they wouldn't have took the trouble to.
+
+And for a year or so he and the chin kep' out of the way of temptation, or
+ruther temptation kep' out of their way; and Cicely was happy,--radiently
+happy, as only such a nature as hern can be. Her face looked like a
+mornin' in June, it wus so bright, and glowing with joy and happy love.
+
+I visited her, stayed 3 days and 2 nights with her; and I almost forgot to
+forebode about the lower part of his face, I found 'em so happy and
+prosperous and likely.
+
+Paul wus very rich. He wus the only child: and his pa left 2 thirds of his
+property to him, and the other third to his ma, which wus more than she
+could ever use while she wus alive; and at her death it wus to go to Paul
+and his heirs.
+
+They owned most all of the village they lived in. His pa had owned the
+township the village was built on, and had built most all the village
+himself, and rented the buildings. He owned a big manufactory there, and
+the buildings rented high.
+
+Wall, it wus in the second year of their marriage that that old college
+chumb--(and I wish he had been chumbed by a pole, before he had ever gone
+there). He had lost his property, and come down in the world, and had to
+work for a livin'; moved into that village, and opened a drinking-saloon
+and billiard-room.
+
+He had been Paul's most intimate friend at college, and his evil genius,
+so his mother said. But he was bright, witty, generous in a way,
+unprincipled, dissipated. And he wanted Paul's company, and he wanted
+Paul's money; and he had a chin himself, and knew how to manage them that
+hadn't any.
+
+Wall, Cicely and his mother tried to keep Paul from that bad influence.
+But he said it would look shabby to not take any notice of a man because
+he wus down in the world. He wouldn't have much to do with him, but it
+wouldn't do to not notice him at all. How curius, that out of good comes
+bad, and out of bad, good. That was a good-natured idee of Paul's if he
+had had a chin that could have held up his principle; but he didn't.
+
+So he gradually fell under the old influence again. He didn't mean to. He
+hadn't no idee of doin' so when he begun. It was the chin.
+
+He begun to drink hard, spent his nights in the saloon, gambled,--slipped
+right down the old, smooth track worn by millions of jest such weak feet,
+towards ruin. And Cicely couldn't hold him back after he had got to
+slippin': her arms wuzn't strong enough.
+
+She went to the saloon-keeper, and cried, and begged of him not to sell
+her husband any more liquor. He was very polite to her, very courteous:
+everybody was to Cicely. But in a polite way he told her that Paul wus his
+best customer, and he shouldn't offend him by refusing to sell him liquor.
+She knelt at his feet, I hearn,--her little, tender limbs on that rough
+floor before that evil man,--and wept, and said,--
+
+"For the sake of her boy, wouldn't he have mercy on the boy's father."
+
+But in a gentle way he gave her to understand that he shouldn't make no
+change.
+
+And he told her, speakin' in a dretful courteous way, "that he had the law
+on his side: he had a license, and he should keep right on as he was
+doing."
+
+[Illustration: CICELY IN THE SALOON.]
+
+And so what could Cicely do? And time went on, carryin' Paul further and
+further down the road that has but one ending. Lower and lower he sunk,
+carryin' her heart, her happiness, her life, down with him.
+
+And they said one cold night Paul didn't come home at all, and Cicely and
+his mother wus half crazy; and they wus too proud, to the last, to tell
+the servants more than they could help: so, when it got to be most
+mornin', them two delicate women started out through the deep snow, to try
+to find him, tremblin' at every little heap of snow that wus tumbled up in
+the path in front of 'em; tremblin' and sick at heart with the agony and
+dread that wus rackin' their souls, as they would look over the cold
+fields of snow stretching on each side of the road, and thinkin' how that
+face would look if it wus lying there staring with lifeless eyes up
+towards the cold moonlight,--the face they had kissed, the face they had
+loved,--and thinkin', too, that the change that had come to it--was
+comin' to it all the time--was more cruel and hopeless than the change of
+death.
+
+So they went on, clear to the saloon; and there they found him,--there he
+lay, perfectly stupid, and dead with liquor.
+
+And they both, the broken-hearted mother and the broken-hearted wife, with
+the tears running down their white cheeks, besought the saloon-keeper to
+let him alone from that night.
+
+The mother says, "Paul is so good, that if you did not tempt him, entice
+him here, he would, out of pity to us, stop his evil ways."
+
+And the saloon-keeper was jest as polite as any man wus ever seen to be,--
+took his hat off while he told 'em, so I hearn, "that he couldn't go
+against his own interests: if Paul chose to spend his money there, he
+should take it."
+
+"Will you break our hearts?" cried the mother.
+
+"Will you ruin my husband, the father of my boy?" sobbed out Cicely, her
+big, sorrowful eyes lookin' right through his soul--if he _had_ a
+soul.
+
+And then the man, in a pleasant tone, reminded 'em,--
+
+"That it wuzn't him that wus a doin' this. It wus the law: if they wanted
+things changed, they must look further than him. He had a license. The
+great Government of the United States had sold him, for a few dollars, the
+right to do just what he was doing. The law, and all the respectability
+that the laws of our great and glorious Republic can give, bore him out in
+all his acts. The law was responsible for all the consequenses of his
+acts: the men were responsible who voted for license--it was not him."
+
+"But you _can_ do what we ask if you will, out of pity to Paul, pity
+to us who love him so, and who are forced to stand by powerless, and see
+him going to ruin--we who would die for him willingly if it would do any
+good. You _can_ do this."
+
+He was a little bit intoxicated, or he wouldn't have gid 'em the cruel
+sneer he did at the last,--though he sneeren polite,--a holdin' his hat in
+his hand.
+
+"As I said, my dear madam, it is not I, it is the law; and I see no other
+way for you ladies who feel so about it, only to vote, and change the
+laws."
+
+"Would to God I _could!_" said the old white-haired mother, with her
+solemn eyes lifted to the heavens, in which was her only hope.
+
+"Would to God I could!" repeated my sweet Cicely, with her eyes fastened
+on the face of him who had promised to cherish her, and comfort her, and
+protect her, layin' there at her feet, a mark for jeers and sneers, unable
+to speak a word, or lift his hand, if his wife and mother had been killed
+before him.
+
+But they couldn't do any thing. They would have lain their lives down for
+him at any time, but that wouldn't do any good. The lowest, most ignorant
+laborer in their employ had power in this matter, but they had none. They
+had intellectual power enough, which, added to their utter helplessness,
+only made their burden more unendurable; for they comprehended to the full
+the knowledge of what was past, and what must come in the future unless
+help came quickly. They had the strength of devotion, the strength of
+unselfish love.
+
+They had the will, but they hadn't nothin' to tackle it onto him with, to
+draw him back. For their prayers, their midnight watches, their tears, did
+not avail, as I said: they went jest so far; they touched him, but they
+lacked the tacklin'-power that was wanted to grip holt of him, and draw
+him back. What they needed was the justice of the law to tackle the
+injustice; and they hadn't got it, and couldn't get holt of it: so they
+had to set with hands folded, or lifted to the heavens in wild appeal,--
+either way didn't help Paul any,--and see him a sinkin' and a sinkin',
+slippin' further and further down; and they had to let him go.
+
+He drunk harder and harder, neglected his business, got quarrelsome. And
+one night, when the heavens was curtained with blackness, like a pall let
+down to cover the accursed scene, he left Cicely with her pretty baby
+asleep on her bosom, went down to the saloon, got into a quarrel with that
+very friend of hisen, the saloon-keeper, over a game of billiards,--they
+was both intoxicated,--and then and there Paul committed _murder_,
+and would have been hung for it if he hadn't died in State's prison the
+night before he got his sentence.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL SHOOTING HIS FRIEND.]
+
+Awful deed! Dreadful fate! But no worse, as I told Josiah when he wus a
+groanin' over it; no worse, I told the children when they was a cryin'
+over it; no worse, I told my own heart when the tears wus a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water,--no worse because Cicely happened to be our
+relation, and we loved her as we did our own eyes.
+
+And our broad land is _full_ of jest such sufferin's, jest such
+crimes, jest such disgrace, caused by the same cause;--as I told Josiah,
+suffering, disgrace, and crime made legal and protected by the law.
+
+And Josiah squirmed as I said it; and I see him squirm, for he believed in
+it: he believed in licensing this shame and disgrace and woe; he believed
+in makin' it respectable, and wrappin' round it the mantilly of the law,
+to keep it in a warm, healthy, flourishin' condition. Why, he had helped
+do it himself; he had helped the United States lift up the mantilly; he
+had voted for it.
+
+He squirmed, but turned it off by usin' his bandana hard, and sayin', in a
+voice all choked down with grief,--
+
+"Oh, poor Cicely! poor girl!"
+
+"Yes," says I, "'poor girl!' and the law you uphold has made her; 'poor
+girl'--has killed her; for she won't live through it, and you and the
+United States will see that she won't."
+
+He squirmed hard; and my feelin's for him are such that I can't bear to
+see him squirm voyalently, as much as I blamed him and the United States,
+and as mad as I was at both on 'em.
+
+So I went to cryin' agin silently under my linen handkerchief, and he
+cried into his bandana. It wus a awful blow to both on us.
+
+Wall, she lived, Cicely did, which was more than we any one of us thought
+she could do. I went right there, and stayed six weeks with her, hangin'
+right over her bed, night and day; and so did his mother,--she a
+brokenhearted woman too. Her heart broke, too, by the United States; and
+so I told Josiah, that little villain that got killed was only one of his
+agents. Yes, her heart was broke; but she bore up for Cicely's sake and
+the boy's. For it seemed as if she felt remorsful, and as if it was for
+them that belonged to him who had ruined her life, to help her all they
+could.
+
+Wall, after about three weeks Cicely begun to live. And so I wrote to
+Josiah that I guessed she would keep on a livin' now, for the sake of the
+boy.
+
+And so she did. And she got up from that bed a shadow,--a faint, pale
+shadow of the girl that used to brighten up our home for us. She was our
+sweet Cicely still. But she looked like that posy after the frost has
+withered it, and with the cold moonlight layin' on it.
+
+Good and patient she wuz, and easy to get along with; for she seemed to
+hold earthly things with a dretful loose grip, easy to leggo of 'em. And
+it didn't seem as if she had any interest at all in life, or care for any
+thing that was a goin' on in the world, till the boy wus about four years
+old; and then she begun to get all rousted up about him and his future.
+"She _must_ live," she said: "she had got to live, to do something to
+help him in the future.
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND THE BOY.]
+
+"She couldn't die," she told me, "and leave him in a world that was so
+hard for boys, where temptations and danger stood all round her boy's
+pathway. Not only hidden perils, concealed from sight, so he might
+possibly escape them, but open temptations, open dangers, made as alluring
+as private avarice could make them, and made as respectable as dignified
+legal enactments could make them,--all to draw her boy down the pathway
+his poor father descended." For one of the curius things about Cicely wuz,
+she didn't seem to blame Paul hardly a mite, nor not so very much the one
+that enticed him to drink. She went back further than them: she laid the
+blame onto our laws; she laid the responsibility onto the ones that made
+'em, directly and indirectly, the legislators and the voters.
+
+Curius that Cicely should feel so, when most everybody said that he could
+have stopped drinking if he had wanted to. But then, I don't know as I
+could blame her for feelin' so when I thought of Paul's chin and lips.
+Why, anybody that had them on 'em, and was made up inside and outside
+accordin', as folks be that have them looks; why, unless they was
+specially guarded by good influences, and fenced off from bad ones,--why,
+they _could not_ exert any self-denial and control and firmness.
+
+Why, I jest followed that chin and that mouth right back through seven
+generations of the Slide family. Paul's father wus a good man, had a good
+face; took it from his mother: but his father, Paul's grandfather, died a
+drunkard. They have got a oil-portrait of him at Paul's old home: I
+stopped there on my way home from Cicely's one time. And for all the world
+he looked most exactly like Paul,--the same sort of a irresolute,
+handsome, weak, fascinating look to him. And all through them portraits I
+could trace that chin and them lips. They would disappear in some of 'em,
+but crop out agin further back. And I asked the housekeeper, who had
+always lived in the family, and wus proud of it, but honest; and she knew
+the story of the hull Slide race.
+
+And she said that every one of 'em that had that face had traits
+accordin'; and most every one of 'em got into trouble of some kind.
+
+One or two of 'em, specially guarded, I s'pose, by good influences, got
+along with no further trouble than the loss of the chin, and the feelin'
+they must have had inside of 'em, that they wuz liable to crumple right
+down any minute.
+
+And as they wus made with jest them looks, and jest them traits, born so,
+entirely unbeknown to them, I don't know as I can blame Cicely for feelin'
+as she did. If temptation hadn't stood right in the road in front of him,
+why, he'd have got along, and lived happy. That's Cicely's idee. And I
+don't know but she's in the right ont.
+
+But as I said, when her child wus about four years old, Cicely took a
+turn, and begun to get all worked up and excited by turns a worryin' about
+the boy. She'd talk about it a sight to me, and I hearn it from others.
+
+She rousted up out of her deathly weakness and heartbroken, stunted calm,
+--for such it seemed to be for the first two or three years after her
+husband's death. She seemed to make an effort almost like that of a dead
+man throwin' off the icy stupor of death, and risin' up with numbed limbs,
+and shakin' off the death-robes, and livin' agin. She rousted up with jest
+such a effort, so it seemed, for the boy's sake.
+
+She must live for the boy; she must work for the boy; she must try to
+throw some safeguards around his future. What _could_ she do to help
+him? That wus the question that was a hantin' her soul.
+
+It wus jest like death for her to face the curius gaze of the world again;
+for, like a wounded animal, she had wanted to crawl away, and hide her
+cruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the sharp-sot
+eyes of the babblin' world.
+
+But she endured it. She came out of her quiet home, where her heart had
+bled in secret; she came out into society again; and she did every thing
+she could, in her gentle, quiet way. She joined temperance societies,--
+helped push 'em forward with her money and her influence. With other
+white-souled wimmen, gentle and refined as she was, she went into rough
+bar-rooms, and knelt on their floors, and prayed what her sad heart wus
+full of,--for pity and mercy for her boy, and other mothers' boys,--prayed
+with that fellowship of suffering that made her sweet voice as pathetic as
+tears, and patheticker, so I have been told.
+
+But one thing hurt her influence dretfully, and almost broke her own
+heart. Paul had left a very large property, but it wus all in the hands of
+an executor until the boy wus of age. He wus to give Cicely a liberal, a
+very liberal, sum every year, but wus to manage the property jest as he
+thought best.
+
+He wus a good business man, and one that meant to do middlin' near right,
+but wus close for a bargain, and sot, awful sot. And though he wus dretful
+polite, and made a stiddy practice right along of callin' wimmen "angels,"
+still he would not brook a woman's interference.
+
+Wall, he could get such big rents for drinkin'-saloons, that four of
+Cicely's buildings wus rented for that purpose; and there wus one
+billiard-room. And what made it worse for Cicely seemin'ly, it wus her own
+property, that she brought to Paul when she wus married, that wus invested
+in these buildings. At that time they wus rented for dry-goods stores, and
+groceries. But the business of the manufactories had increased greatly;
+and there wus three times the population now there wus when she went there
+to live, and more saloons wus needed; and these buildings wus handy; and
+the executer had big prices offered to him, and he would rent 'em as he
+wanted to. And then, he wus something of a statesman; and he felt, as many
+business men did, that they wus fairly sufferin' for more saloons to
+enrich the government.
+
+Why, out of every hundred dollars that them poor laboring-men had earned
+so hardly, and paid into the saloons for that which, of course, wus
+ruinous to themselves and families, and, of course, rendered them
+incapable of all labor for a great deal of the time,--why, out of that
+hundred dollars, as many as 2 cents would go to the government to enrich
+it.
+
+Of course, the government had to use them 2 cents right off towards buyin'
+tight-jackets to confine the madmen the whiskey had made, and poorhouse-
+doors for the idiots it had breeded, to lean up aginst, and buryin' the
+paupers, and buyin' ropes to hang the murderers it had created.
+
+But still, in some strange way, too deep, fur too deep, for a woman's mind
+to comprehend, it wus dretful profitable to the government.
+
+Now, if them poor laborin'-men had paid that 2 cents of theirn to the
+government themselves, in the first place, in direct taxation, why, that
+wouldn't have been statesmanship. That is a deep study, and has a great
+many curius performances, and it has to perform.
+
+[Illustration: UNCLE SAM ENRICHING THE GOVERNMENT.]
+
+Cicely tried her very best to get the executor to change in this one
+matter; but she couldn't move him the width of a horse-hair, and he a
+smilin' all the time at her, and polite. He liked Cicely: nobody could
+help likin' the gentle, saintly-souled little woman. But he wus sot: he
+wus makin' money fast by it, and she had to give up.
+
+And rough men and women would sometimes twit her of it,--of her property
+bein' used to advance the liquor-traffic, and ruin men and wimmen; and she
+a feelin' like death about it, and her hands tied up, and powerless. No
+wonder that her face got whiter and whiter, and her eyes bigger and
+mournfuller-lookin'.
+
+Wall, she kep' on, tryin' to do all she could: she joined the Woman's
+Temperance Union; she spent her money free as water, where she thought it
+would do any good, and brought up the boy jest as near right as she could
+possibly bring him up; and she prayed, and wept right when she wus a
+bringin' of him, a thinkin' that _her_ property wus a bein' used
+every day and every hour in ruinin' other mothers' boys. And the boy's
+face almost breakin' her heart every time she looked at it; for, though he
+wus jest as pretty as a child could be, the pretty rosy lips had the same
+good-tempered, irresolute curve to 'em that the boy inherited honestly.
+And he had the same weak, waverin' chin. It was white and rosy now, with a
+dimple right in the centre, sweet enough to kiss. But the chin wus there,
+right under the rosy snow and the dimple; and I foreboded, too, and
+couldn't blame Cicely a mite for her forebodin', and her agony of sole.
+
+I noticed them lips and that chin the very minute Josiah brought him into
+the settin'-room, and set him down; and my eyes looked dubersome at him
+through my specks. Cicely see it, see that dubersome look, though I tried
+to turn it off by kissin' him jest as hearty as I could after I had took
+the little black-robed figure of his mother, and hugged her close to my
+heart, and kissed her time and time agin.
+
+She always dressed in the deepest of mournin', and always would. I knew
+that.
+
+Wall, we wus awful glad to see Cicely. I had had the old fireplace fixed
+in the front spare room, and a crib put in there for the boy; and I went
+right up to her room with her. And when we had got there, I took her right
+in my arms agin, as I used to, and told her how glad I wus, and how
+thankful I wus, to have her and the boy with us.
+
+The fire sparkled up on the old brass handirons as warm as my welcome. Her
+bed and the boy's bed looked white and cozy aginst the dark red of the
+carpet and the cream-colored paper. And after I had lowered the pretty
+ruffled muslin curtains (with red ones under 'em), and pulled a stand
+forward, and lit a lamp,--it wus sundown,--the room looked cheerful enough
+for anybody, and it seemed as if Cicely looked a little less white and
+brokenhearted. She wus glad to be with me, and said she wuz. But right
+there--before supper; and we could smell the roast chicken and coffee,
+havin' left the stair-door open--right there, before we had visited hardly
+any, or talked a mite about other wimmen, she begun on what she wanted to
+do, and what she _must_ do, for the boy.
+
+I had told her how the boy had grown, and that sot her off. And from that
+night, every minute of her time almost, when she could without bein'
+impolite and troublesome (Cicely wus a perfect lady, inside and out), she
+would talk to me about what she wanted to do for the boy, to have the laws
+changed before he grew up; she didn't dare to let him go out into the
+world with the laws as they was now, with temptation on every side of him.
+
+[Illustration: THE SPARE ROOM.]
+
+"You know, aunt Samantha," she says to me, "that I wanted to die when my
+husband died; but I want to live now. Why, I _must_ live; I cannot
+die, I dare not die until my boy is safer. I will work, I will die if
+necessary, for him."
+
+It wus the same old Cicely, I see, not carin' for herself, but carin' only
+for them she loved. Lovin' little creeter, good little creeter, she always
+wuz, and always would be. And so I told Josiah.
+
+Wall, we had the boy set between us to the supper-table, Josiah and me
+did, in Thomas Jefferson's little high-chair. I had new covered it on
+purpose for him with bright copperplate calico.
+
+And that night at supper, and after supper, I judged, and judged calmly,--
+we made the estimate after we went to bed, Josiah and me did,--that the
+boy asked 3 thousand and 85 questions about every thing under the sun and
+moon, and things over 'em, and outside of 'em, and inside.
+
+Why, I panted for breath, but wouldn't give in. I was determined to use
+Cicely first-rate, and we loved the boy too. But, oh! it was a weary love,
+and a short-winded love, and a hoarse one.
+
+We went to bed tuckered completely out, but good-natured: our love for 'em
+held us up. And when we made the estimate, it wuzn't in a cross tone, but
+amiable, and almost winnin'. Josiah thought they went up into the
+trillions. But I am one that never likes to set such things too high; and
+I said calmly, 3,000 and 85. And finally he gin in that mebby it wuzn't no
+more than that.
+
+Cicely told me she couldn't stay with us very long now; for her aunt Mary
+wuz expectin' to go away to the Michigan pretty soon, to see a daughter
+who wus out of health,--had been out of it for some time,--and she wanted
+a visit from her neice Cicely before she went. But she promised to come
+back, and make a good visit on her way home.
+
+And so it was planned. The next day was Sunday, and Cicely wus too tired
+with her journey to go to meetin'. But the boy went. He sot up, lookin'
+beautiful, by the side of me on the back seat of the Democrat; his uncle
+Josiah sot in front; and Ury drove. Ury Henzy, he's our hired man, and a
+tolerable good one, as hired men go. His name is Urias; but we always call
+him Ury,--spelt U-r-y, Ury,--with the emphasis on the U.
+
+Wall, that day Elder Minkly preached. It wus a powerful sermon, about the
+creation of the world, and how man was made, and the fall of Adam, and
+about Noah and the ark, and how the wicked wus destroyed. It wus a
+middlin' powerful sermon; and the boy sot up between Josiah and me, and we
+wus proud enough of him. He had on a little green velvet suit and a deep
+linen collar; and he sot considerable still for him, with his eyes on
+Elder Minkly's face, a thinkin', I guess, how he would put us through our
+catechism on the way home. And, oh! didn't he, didn't he do it? I s'pose
+things seem strange to children, and they can't help askin' about 'em.
+
+But 4,000 wus the estimate Josiah and me calculated on our pillows that
+night wus the number of questions the boy asked on our way home, about the
+creation, how the world wus made, and the ark--oh, how he harressed my
+poor companion about the animals! "Did they drive 2 of all the animals in
+the world in that house, uncle Josiah?"
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MEETING.]
+
+"Yes," says Josiah.
+
+"2 elfants, and rinosterhorses, and snakes, and snakes, and bears, and
+tigers, and cows, and camels, and hens?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"And flies, uncle Josiah?--did they drive in two flies? and mud-turkles?
+and bumble-bees? and muskeeters? Say, uncle Josiah, did they drive in
+muskeeters?"
+
+"I s'pose so."
+
+"_How_ could they drive in two muskeeters?"
+
+"Oh! less stop talkin' for a spell--shet up your little mouth," says
+Josiah in a winnin' tone, pattin' him on his head.
+
+"I can shut up my mouth, uncle Josiah, but I can't shut up my thinker."
+
+Josiah sithed; and, right while he wus a sithin', the boy commenced agin
+on a new tack.
+
+"What for a lookin' place was paradise?" And then follered 800 questions
+about paradise. Josiah sweat, and offered to let the boy come back, and
+set with me. He had insisted, when we started from the meetin'-house, on
+havin' the boy set on the front seat between him and Ury.
+
+But I demurred about any change, and leaned back, and eat a sweet apple. I
+don't think it is wrong Sundays to eat a sweet apple. And the boy kep' on.
+
+"What did Adam fall off of? Did he fall out of the apple-tree?"
+
+"No, no! he fell because he sinned."
+
+But the boy went right on, in a tone of calm conviction,--
+
+"No big man would be apt to fall a walking right along. He fell out of the
+apple-tree."
+
+And then he says, after a minute's still thought,--
+
+"I believe, if I had been there, and had a string round Adam's leg, I
+could kep' him from fallin' off;--and say, where was the Lord? Couldn't He
+have kept him? say, couldn't He?"
+
+"Yes: He can do any thing."
+
+"Wall, then, why didn't He?"
+
+Josiah groaned, low.
+
+"If Adam hadn't fell, I wouldn't have fell, would I?--nor you--nor Ury--
+nor anybody?"
+
+"No: I s'pose not."
+
+"Wall, wouldn't it have paid to kept Adam up? Say, uncle Josiah, say!"
+
+"Oh! less talk about sunthin' else," says my poor Josiah. "Don't you want
+a sweet apple?"
+
+"Yes; and say! what kind of a apple was it that Adam eat? Was it a sweet
+apple, or a greening, or a sick-no-further? And say, was it _right_
+for all of us to fall down because Adam did? And how did _I_ sin just
+because a man eat an apple, and fell out of an apple-tree, when I never
+saw the apple, or poked him offen the tree, or joggled him, or any thing--
+when I wasn't there? Say, how was it wrong, uncle Josiah? When I wasn't
+_there!_"
+
+My poor companion, I guess to sort o' pacify him, broke out kinder a
+singin' in a tone full of fag, "'In Adam's fall, we sinned all.'" Josiah
+is sound.
+
+"And be I a sinning now, uncle Josiah? and a falling? And is everybody a
+sinning and a falling jest because that one man eat one apple, and fell
+out of an apple-tree? Say, is it _right_, uncle Josiah, for you and
+me, and everybody that is on the earth, to keep a falling, and keep a
+falling, and bein' blamed, and every thing, when we hadn't done any thing,
+and wasn't _there?_ And _say_, will folks always keep a
+falling?"
+
+"Yes, if they hain't good."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH CLOSING THE CONVERSATION.]
+
+"_How_ can they keep a falling? If Adam fell out of the apple-tree,
+wouldn't he have struck on the ground, and got up agin? And if anybody
+falls, why, why, mustn't they come to the bottom sometime? If there is
+something to fall off of, mustn't there be something to hit against? And
+_say_"--
+
+Here the boy's eyes looked dreamier than they had looked, and further off.
+
+"Was I made out of dirt, uncle Josiah?"
+
+"Yes: we are all made out of dust."
+
+"And did God breathe our souls into us? Was it His own self, His own life,
+that was breathed into us?"
+
+"Yes," says Josiah, in a more fagged voice than he had used durin' the
+intervue, and more hopelesser.
+
+"Wall, if God is in us, how can He lose us again? Wouldn't it be a losing
+His own self? And how could God lose Himself? And what did He find us for,
+in the first place, if He wus going to lose us again?"
+
+Here Josiah got right up in the Democrat, and lifted the boy, and sot him
+over on the seat with me, and took the lines out of Ury's hands, and drove
+the old mair at a rate that I told him wus shameful on Sunday, for a
+perfessor.
+
+[Illustration: "IT WUS ON A SLAY-RIDE "]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely and the boy staid till Tuesday night. Tuesday afternoon the
+children wus all to home on a invitation. (I had a chicken-pie, and done
+well by 'em.)
+
+And nothin' to do but what Cicely and the boy must go home with 'em: they
+jest think their eyes of Cicely. And I couldn't blame 'em for wantin' her,
+though I hated to give her up.
+
+She laid out to stay a few days, and then come back to our house for a day
+or two, and then go on to her aunt Mary's. But, as it turned out, the
+children urged her so, she stayed most two weeks.
+
+And the very next day but one after Cicely went to the children's--And
+don't it beat all how, if visitors get to comin', they'll keep a comin'?
+jest as it is if you begin to have trials, you'll have lots of 'em, or
+broken dishes, or any thing.
+
+Wall, it wus the very next mornin' but one after Cicely had gone, and my
+voice had actually begun to sound natural agin (the boy had kep' me hoarse
+as a frog answerin' questions). I wus whitewashin' the kitchen, havin' put
+it off while Cicely wus there; and there wus a man to work a patchin' up
+the wall in one of the chambers,--and right there and then, Elburtus Smith
+Gansey come. And truly, we found him as clever a critter as ever walked
+the earth.
+
+It wus jest before korkuss; and he wus kinder visatin' round amongst his
+relations, and makin' himself agreable. He is my 5th cousin,--5th or 6th.
+I can't reely tell which, and I don't know as I care much; for I think,
+that, after you get by the 5th, it hain't much matter anyway. I sort o'
+pile 'em all in promiscous. Jest as it is after anybody gets to be 70
+years old, it hain't much matter how much older they be: they are what you
+may call old, anyway.
+
+But I think, as I said prior and beforehand, that he wus a 5th. His mother
+wus a Butrick, and her mother wus a Smith. So he come to make us a visit,
+and sort o' ellectioneer round. He wanted to get put in county judge; and
+so, the korkuss bein' held in Jonesville, I s'pose he thought he'd come
+down, and endear himself to us, as they all do.
+
+I am one that likes company first-rate, and I always try to do well by
+'em; but I tell Josiah, that somehow city folks (Elburtus wus brought up
+in a city) are a sort of a bother. They require so much, and give you the
+feelin', that, when you are a doin' your very best for 'em, they hain't
+satisfied. You see, some folks'es best hain't nigh so good as other
+folks'es 3d or 4th.
+
+But this feller--why! I liked him from the first minute I sot my eyes on
+him. I hadn't seen him before sence I wus a child, and so didn't feel so
+awful well acquainted with him; or, that is, I didn't, as it were, feel
+intimate. You know, when you don't see anybody from the time you are
+babies till you are married, and have lost a good many teeth, and
+considerable hair, you can't feel over and above intimate with 'em at
+first sight.
+
+But I liked him, he wus so unassuming and friendly, and took every thing
+so peaceable and pleasant. And he deserved better things than what
+happened to him.
+
+You see, I wus a cleanin' house when he come, cleanin' the kitchen at that
+out-of-the-way time of year on account of Cicely's visit, and on account
+of repairin' that had promised to be done by Josiah Allen, and delayed
+from week to week, and month to month, as is the way with men. But finally
+he had got it done, and I wus ready to the minute with my brush and
+scourin'-cloth.
+
+I wus a whitewashin' when he come, and my pail of whitewash wus hung up
+over the kitchen-door; and I stood up on a table, a whitewashin' the
+ceilin, when I heard a buggy drive up to the door, and stop. And I stood
+still, and listened; and then I heard a awful katouse and rumpus, and then
+I heard hollerin'; and then I heard Josiah's voice, and somebody else's
+voice, a talkin' back and forth, sort o' quick and excited.
+
+Now, some wimmen would have been skairt, and acted skairt; but I didn't. I
+jest stood up on that table, cool and calm as a statue of Repose sculped
+out of marble, and most as white (I wus all covered with whitewash), with
+my brush held easy and firm in my right hand, and my left ear a listenin'.
+
+Pretty soon the door opened right by the side of the table, and in come
+Josiah Allen and a strange man. He introduced him to me as Elburtus
+Gansey, my 4th cousin; and I made a handsome curchy. I s'pose, bein' up on
+the table, the curchy showed off to better advantage than it would if I
+had been on the floor: it looked well. But I felt that I ort to shake
+hands with him; and, as I went to step down into a chair to get down
+(entirely unbeknown to me), my brush hit against that pail, and down come
+that pail of whitewash right onto his back. (If it had been his head, it
+would have broke it.)
+
+[Illustration: EXCELLENT LIME.]
+
+I felt as if I should sink. But he took it the best that ever wus. He
+said, when Josiah and me wus a sweepin' him off, and a rubbin' him off
+with wet towels, that "it wusn't no matter at all." And he spoke up so
+polite and courteous, that "it seemed to be first-rate whitewash: he never
+see better, whiter lime in his life, than that seemed to be." And then he
+sort o' felt of it between his thumb and finger, and asked Josiah "where
+did he get that lime, and if they had any more of it. He didn't believe
+they could get such lime outside of Jonesville." He acted like a perfect
+gentleman.
+
+And he told me, in that same polite, pleasant tone, how Josiah's old sheep
+had knocked him over 3 times while he wus a comin' into the house. He
+said, with that calm, gentle smile, "that no sooner would he get up, than
+he would stand off a little, and then rush at him with his head down, and
+push him right over."
+
+Says I, "It is a perfect shame and a disgrace," says I. "And I have told
+you, Josiah Allen, that some stranger would get killed by that old
+creeter; and I should think you would get rid of it."
+
+"Wall, I lay out to, the first chance I get," says he.
+
+Elburtus said "it would almost seem to be a pity, it was so strong and
+healthy a sheep." He said he never met a sheep under any circumstances
+that seemed to have a sounder, stronger constitution. He said of course
+the sheep and he hadn't met under the pleasantest of circumstances, and it
+wusn't over and above pleasant to be knocked down by it three or four
+times; but he had found that he couldn't have every thing as he wanted it
+in this world, and the only way to enjoy ourselves wus to take things as
+they come.
+
+Says I, "I s'pose that wus the way you took the sheep;" and he said, "It
+was."
+
+And then he went on to say in that amiable way of hisen, "that it probably
+made it a little harder for him jest at that time, as he wus struck by
+lightnin' that mornin'." (There had been a awful thunder-storm.)
+
+Says Josiah, all excitement, "Did it strike you sensible?"
+
+Says I, "You mean senseless, Josiah Allen."
+
+"Wall, I said so, didn't I? Did it strike you senseless, Mr. Gansey?"
+
+"No," he said: it only stunted him. And then he went on a praisin' up our
+Jonesville lightnin'. He said it wus about the cleanest, quickest
+lightnin' he ever see. He said he believed we had the smartest lightnin'
+in our county that you could find in the nation.
+
+So good he acted about every thing. It beat all. Why, he hadn't been in
+the house half an hour when he offered to help me whitewash. I told him I
+wouldn't let him, for it would spile his clothes, and he hadn't ever been
+there a visitin' before, and I didn't want to put him to work. But he hung
+on, and nothin' to do but what he had got to take hold and whitewash. And
+I had to give up and let him; for I thought it wus better manners to put a
+visiter to work, than it wus to dispute and quarrel with 'em: and, of
+course, he wasn't used to it, and he filled one eye most full of lime. It
+wus dretful painful, dretful.
+
+But I swabbed it out with viniger, and it got easier about the middle of
+the afternoon. It bein' work that he never done before, the whitewashin'
+looked like fury; but I done it all over after him, and so I got along
+with it, though it belated me. But his offerin' to do it showed his good
+will, anyway.
+
+I shouldn't have done any more at all after Elburtus had come, only I had
+got into the job, and had to finish it; for I always think it is better
+manners, when visitors come unexpected, and ketch you in some mean job, to
+go on and finish it as quick as you can, ruther than to set down in the
+dirt, and let them, ditto, and the same.
+
+And Josiah was ketched jest as I wus, for he had a piece of winter wheat
+that wus spilin' to be cut; and he had got the most of it down, and had to
+finish it: it wus lodged so he had to cut it by hand,--the machine
+wouldn't work on it. And jest as quick as Elburtus had got so he could see
+out of that eye, nothin' to do but what he had got to go out and help
+Josiah cut that wheat. He hadn't touched a scythe for years and years, and
+it wasn't ten minutes before his hands wus blistered on the inside. But he
+would keep at it till the blisters broke, and then he had to stop anyway.
+
+He got along quite well after that: only the lot where Josiah wus to work
+run along by old Bobbet'ses, and he had carried a jug of sweetened water
+and viniger and ginger out into the lot, and Elburtus had talked so polite
+and cordial to him, a conversin' on politics, that he got attached to him,
+and treated him to the sweetened water.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS ENDEARIN' HIMSELF TO MR. BOBBET.]
+
+And Elburtus, not wantin' to hurt his feelin's, drinked about 3 quarts. It
+made him deathly sick, for it went aginst his stomach from the first: he
+never loved it. And Miss Bobbet duz fix it dretful sickish,--sweetens it
+with sale mollasses for one thing.
+
+Oh, how sick that feller wus when he come in to supper! had to lay right
+down on the lounge.
+
+Says I, "Elburtus, what made you drink it, when it went aginst your
+stomach?" says I.
+
+"Why," says he in a faint voice, and pale round his lips as any thing, "I
+didn't want to hurt his feelin's by refusin'."
+
+Says I, out to one side, "Did you ever, Josiah Allen, see such goodness in
+your life?"
+
+"I never see such dumb foolishness," says he. "I'd love to have anybody
+ketch me a drinkin' three or four quarts of such stuff out of politeness."
+
+"No," says I coldly: "you hain't good enough."
+
+Wall, that night his bed got a fire. It seemed as if every thing under the
+sun wus a goin' to happen to that man while he wus here. You see, the
+house wus all tore up a repairing and I had to put him up-stairs: and the
+bed had been moved out by carpenters, to plaster a spot behind the bed;
+and, unbeknown to me, they had set it too near the stove-pipe. And the hot
+pipe run right up by the side of it, right by the bed-clothes. It took
+fire from the piller-case.
+
+We smelt a dretful smudge, and Josiah run right up-stairs: it had only
+jest ketched a fire, and Elburtus was sound asleep; and Josiah, the minute
+he see what wus the matter, he jest ketched up the water-pitcher, and
+throwed the water over him; and bein' skairt and tremblin', the pitcher
+flew out of his hand, and went too, and hit Elburtus on the end of his
+nose, and took a piece of skin right off.
+
+He waked up sudden; and there he wus, all drownded out, and a piece gone
+off of his nose.
+
+Now, most any other man would have acted mad. Josiah would have acted mad
+as a mad dog, and madder. But you ort to see how good Elburtus took it,
+jest as quick as he got his senses back. Josiah said he could almost take
+his oath that he swore out as cross a oath as he ever heard swore the
+first minute before he got his eyes opened, but I believe he wus mistaken.
+But anyway, the minute his senses come back, and he see where he wuz, you
+ort to see how he behaved. Never, never did I hear of such manners in all
+my born days! Josiah told me all about it.
+
+There Elburtus stood, with his nose a bleedin', and his whiskers singed,
+and a drippin' like a mushrat. But, instead of jawin' or complainin', the
+first thing he said wuz, "What a splendid draft our stove must have, or
+else the stove-pipe wouldn't be so hot!" (I had done some cookin' late in
+the evenin', and left a fire in the stove.)
+
+And he said our stove-wood must be of the very best quality; and he asked
+Josiah where he got it, and if he had to pay any thing extra for that
+kind. He said he'd give any thing if he could get holt of a cord of such
+wood as that!
+
+Josiah said he felt fairly stunted to see such manners; and he went to
+apologisin' about how awful bad it was for him to get his whiskers singed
+so, and how it wus a pure axident his lettin' the pitcher slip out of his
+hand, and he wouldn't have done it for nothin' if he could have helped it,
+and he wus afraid it had hurt him more than he thought for.
+
+And such manners as that clever critter showed then! He said he was a
+calculatin' to get his whiskers cut that very day, and it was all for the
+best; he persumed they wus singed off in jest the shape he wanted 'em: and
+as for his nose, he wus always ashamed of it; it wus always too long, and
+he should be glad if there wus a piece gone off of it: Josiah had done him
+a favor to help him get rid of a piece of it.
+
+Why, when Josiah told it all over to me after he come down, I told him "I
+believed sunthin' would happen to that man before long. I believed he wus
+too good for earth."
+
+Josiah can't bear to hear me praise up any mortal man only himself, and he
+muttered sunthin' about "he bet he wouldn't be so tarnel good after
+'lection."
+
+But I wouldn't hear 110 such talk; and says I,--
+
+"If there wus ever a saint on earth, it is Elburtus Smith Gansey;" and
+says I, "If you try to vote for anybody else, I'll know the reason why."
+
+"Wall, wall! who said I wus a goin' to? I shall probable vote in the
+family; but he hain't no more saint than I be."
+
+I gin him a witherin' look; but, as it wus dark as pitch in the room, he
+didn't act withered any. And I spoke out agin, and says I, in a low, deep
+voice,--
+
+"If it wus one of the relations on your side, Josiah Allen, you would say
+he acted dretful good."
+
+And he says, "There is such a thing, Samantha, as bein' _too_ good--
+too _dumb_ good."
+
+I didn't multiply any more words with him, and we went to sleep.
+
+Wall, that is jest the way that feller acted for the next five days. Why,
+the neighbors all got to lovin' him so, why, they jest about worshipped
+him. And Josiah said that there wuzn't no use a talkin', Elburtus would
+get the nomination unanimous; for everybody that had seen him appear (and
+he had been all over the town appearing to 'em, and endearin' himself to
+'em, cleer out beyond Jonesville as far as Spoon Settlement and Loontown),
+why, they jest thought their eyes of him, he wus so thoughtful and urbane
+and helpful. Why, there hain't no tellin' how much helpfuler he wuz than
+common folks, and urbaner.
+
+Why, Josiah and me drove into Jonesville one day towards night; and
+Elburtus had been there all day. Josiah had some cross-gut saws that he
+wanted to get filed, and had happened to mention it before Elburtus; and
+nothin' to do but he must go and carry 'em to the man in Jonesville that
+wus goin' to do it, and help him file 'em. Josiah told him we wus goin'
+over towards night with the team, and could carry 'em as well as not; and
+he hadn't better try to help, filin' saws wus such a sort of a raspin'
+undertakin'. But Elburtus said "he should probably go through more raspin'
+jobs before he died, or got the nomination; and Josiah could have 'em to
+bring home that night." So he sot out with 'em walkin' a foot.
+
+[Illustration: ELBERTUS APPEARIN']
+
+Wall, when we drove in, I see Elburtus a liftin' and a luggin', a loadin'
+a big barrell into a double wagon for a farmer; and I says,--
+
+"What under the sun is Elburtus Gansey a doin'?"
+
+And Josiah says, in a gay tone,--
+
+"He is a electionerin', Samantha: see him sweat," says he. "Salt is heavy,
+and political life is wearin', when anybody goes into it deep, and tackles
+it in the way Elburtus tackles it."
+
+He seemed to think it wus a joke; but I says,--
+
+"He is jest a killin' himself, Josiah Allen; and you would set here, and
+see him."
+
+"I hain't a runnin'," says he in a calm tone.
+
+"No," says I: "you wouldn't run a step to help anybody. And see there,"
+says I. "How good, how good that man is!"
+
+Elburtus had finished loadin' the salt, and now he wus a holdin' the
+horses for the man to load some spring-beds. And the horses wus skairt by
+'em, and wuz jest a liftin' Elburtus right up offen his feet. Why, they
+pranced, and tore, and lifted him up, and switched him round, and then
+they'd set him down with a crash, and whinner.
+
+But that man smiled all the time, and took off his hat, and bowed to me:
+we went by when he wus a swingin' right up in the air. I never see the
+beat of his goodness. Why, we found out afterwards, that, besides filin'
+them saws, he had loaded seven barrells of salt that day, besides other
+heavy truck. That night he wus perfectly beat out--but good.
+
+Josiah said that Philander Dagget'ses wive's brother wouldn't have no
+chance at all. He wanted the nomination awful, and Philander had been a
+workin' for him all he could; and if Elburtus hadn't come down to
+Jonesville, and showed off such a beautiful demeanor and actions, why, we
+all thought that Philander's wive's brother would have got it. And I
+couldn't help feelin' kind o' sorry for him, though highly tickled for
+Elburtus. We both of us, Josiah and me, felt very pleased and extremely
+tickled to think that Elburtus wus so sure of it; for there wus a good
+deal of money in the office, besides honor, sights of honor.
+
+Wall, when the mornin' of town-meetin' came, that critter wus so awful
+clever that nothin' to do but what he must help Josiah do the chores.
+
+And amongst other chores Josiah had to do that mornin', wus to carry home
+a plow that belonged to old Dagget. And old Dagget wanted Josiah, when he
+had got through with it, to carry it to his son Philander's: and Philander
+had left word that he wanted it that mornin'; and he wanted it carried
+down to his lower barn, that stood in a meadow a mile away from any house.
+Philander'ses land run in such a way that he had to build it there to
+store his fodder.
+
+Wall, time run along, and it got time to start for town-meetin', and
+Elburtus couldn't be found. I hollered to him from the back stoop, and
+Josiah went out to the barn and hollered; but nothin' could be seen of
+him. And Josiah got all ready, and waited, and waited; and I told him that
+Elburtus had probable got in such a hurry to get there, that he had
+started on a foot, and he had better drive on, and he would overtake him.
+So finally he did; and he drove along clear to Jonesville, expectin' to
+overtake him every minute, and didn't. And the hull day passed off, and no
+Elburtus. And nobody had seen him. And everybody thought it looked so
+curius in him, a disapearin' as he did, when they all knew that he had
+come down to our part of the county a purpose to get the nomination. Why,
+his disapearin' as he did looked so awful strange, that they didn't know
+what to make of it.
+
+[Illustration: ELBURTUS HOLDING THE HORSES.]
+
+And the opposition side, Philander Daggets'es wive's brother's friends,
+started the story that he wus arrested for stealin' a sheep, and wus
+dragged off to jail that mornin'.
+
+Of course Josiah tried to dispute it; but, as he wus as much in the dark
+as any of 'em as to where he wuz, his disputin' of it didn't amount to any
+thing. And then, Josiah's feelin' so strange about Elburtus made his eyes
+look kinder glassy and strange when they wus talkin' to him about it; and
+they got up the story, so I hearn, that Josiah helped him off with the
+sheep, and wus feelin' like death to have him found out.
+
+And the friends of Philander Daggets'es wive's brother had it all thier
+own way, and he wus elected almost unanimous. Wall, Josiah come home
+early, he wus so worried about Elburtus. He thought mebby he had come back
+home after he had got away, and wus took sick sudden. And his first words
+to me wuz,--
+
+"Where is Elburtus? Have you seen Elburtus?"
+
+And then wus my time to be smit and horrow-struck. And the more we got to
+thinkin' about it, the more wonderful did it seem to us, that that man had
+dissapeared right in broad daylight, jest as sudden and mysterious as if
+the ground had opened, and swallowed him down, or as if he had spread a
+pair of wings, and flown up into the sky.
+
+Not that I really thought he had. I couldn't hardly associate the idee of
+heaven and endless repose with a short frock-coat and boots, and a blue
+necktie and a stiff shirt-collar. But, oh! how strange and mysterious it
+did seem to be! We talked it over and over, and we could not think of any
+thing that could happen to him. He knew enough to keep out of the creek;
+and there wasn't no woods nigh where he could get lost, and he wus too old
+to be stole. And so we thought and thought, and racked our 2 brains.
+
+And finally I says, "Wall! it hain't happened for several thousand years,
+but I don't know what to think. We read of folks bein' translated up to
+heaven when they get too good for earth, and you know I have told you
+several times that he wus too clever for earth. I have thought he wus not
+of the earth, earthy."
+
+"And I have thought," says he, sort o' snappish, "that he wus of politics,
+politicky."
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, I should be afraid, if I wus in your place, to talk
+in that way in such a time as this," says I. "I have felt, when I see his
+actions when he wus knocked over by that sheep, and covered with lime, and
+sot fire to, I have felt as if we wus entertainin' a angel unawares."
+
+"Yes," says he, "it _wuz unawares_, entirely _unawares_ to me."
+
+His axent wus dry. dry as chaff, and as full of ironry as a oven-door or
+flat-iron.
+
+"Wall," says I, "mebby you will see the time, before the sun rises on your
+bald head again, that you will be sorry for such talk." Says I, "If it wus
+one of the relation on your side, mebby you would talk different about
+him." That touched him; and he snapped out,--
+
+"What do you s'pose I care which side he wus on? And I should think it wus
+time to have a little sunthin' to eat: it must be three o'clock if it is a
+minute."
+
+Says I, "Can you eat, Josiah Allen, in such a time as this?"
+
+"I could if I could _get_ any thing to eat," says he; "but there
+don't seem to be much prospect of it."
+
+Says I, "The best thing you can do, Josiah Allen, is to foller his tracks.
+The ground is kinder soft and spongy, and you can do it," says I. "Where
+did he go to last from here?"
+
+"Down to Philander Daggets'es, to carry home his plow."
+
+"That angel man!" says I.
+
+"That angel fool!" says Josiah. "Who asked him to go?"
+
+Says I, "When a man gets too good for earth, there is other ways to
+translate him besides chariots of fire. Who knows but what he has fell
+down in a fit! And do you go this minute, Josiah Allen, and foller his
+tracks!"
+
+"I sha'n't foller nobody's tracks, Samantha Allen, till I have sunthin' to
+eat."
+
+I knew there wuzn't no use of reasonin' no further with him then; for when
+he said Samantha Allen in that axent, I knew he wus as sot as a hemlock
+post, and as hard to move as one. And so my common sense bein' so firm and
+solid, even in such a time as this, I reasoned it right out, he wouldn't
+stir till he had sunthin' to eat, and so the sooner I got his supper, the
+sooner he would go and foller Elburtus'es tracks. So I didn't spend no
+more strength a arguin', but kep' it to hurry up; and my reason is such,
+strong and vigorous and fur-seein', that I knew the better supper he had,
+the more animated would be his search. So I got a splendid supper, but
+quick.
+
+[Illustration: HUNTING FOR ELBURTUS.]
+
+But, oh! all the time I wus a gettin' it, this solemn and awful question
+wus a hantin' me,--What had become of Elburtus Smith Gansey? What had
+become of the relation on my side? Oh, the feelin's I felt! Oh, the
+emotions I carried round with me, from buttery to teakettle, and from
+teapot to table!
+
+But finally, after eatin' longer than it seemed to me he ever eat before
+(such wus my feelin's), Josiah started off acrost the lot, towards
+Daggets'es barn. And I stood in the west door, with my hand over my eyes,
+a watchin' him most every minute he wus gone. And when that man come back,
+he come a laughin'. And I wus that madded, to have him look in that sort
+of a scorfin' way, that I wouldn't say a word to him; and he come into the
+house a laughin', and sot down and crossed his legs a laughin', and says
+he,--
+
+"What do you s'pose has become of the relation on your side?" And says he,
+snickerin' agin,--
+
+"You wus in the right on it, Samantha,--he did asscend: he went up!" And
+agin he snickered loud. And says I coldly, cold as ice almost,--
+
+"If I wuzn't a perfect luny, or idiot, I'd talk as if I knew sunthin'. You
+know I said that, as one who allegores. If you have found Elburtus Gansey,
+I'd say so, and done with it."
+
+"Wall," says he, "you _wuz_ in the right of it, and that is what
+tickles me. He got locked up in Dagget's barn. He asscended, jest as I
+told you. He went up the ladder over the hay, to throw down fodder, and
+got locked up _axidental_." And, as he said "axidental," he snickered
+worse than ever.
+
+And I says, "It is a mean, miserable, good for nothin', low-lived caper!
+And Philander Dagget done it a purpose to keep Elburtus from the town-
+meetin', so his wive's brother would get the election. And, if I wus
+Elburtus Gansey, I'd sue him, and serve a summons on him, and prosicute
+him."
+
+"Why," says Josiah, in the same hilarious axent, and the same scorfin'
+look onto him, "Philander says he never felt so worked up about any thing
+in his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night, and found
+Elburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for he wus so afraid
+that some evil-minded person might say he done it a purpose. And he said
+what made him feel the worst about it wuz to think that he should have
+shut him up axidental when he wus a helpin' so good."
+
+Says I, "The mean, impudent creeter! As good as Elburtus wuz!"
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, "you know what I told you,--there is such a thing as
+bein' _too_ good."
+
+I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought up
+and excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, and
+wouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose that
+wus the great trouble with Elburtus,--he wus a leetle _too_ good.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't s'pose Philander had laid any plot to
+keep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he had
+laughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and had
+made a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of his
+wive's brother, and wanted him to get the election.
+
+And I s'pose the idee come to him after Elburtus had got down to the barn
+where he wus a fodderin' his sheep.
+
+You see, if Elburtus had let well enough alone, and not been _too_
+good, every thing would have gone off right then, but he wouldn't. Nothin'
+to do but he must help Philander get down his fodder. And I s'pose then
+the idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there till
+after 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' a
+axident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. But
+every time he says that word "axident," he will laugh out so sort o'
+aggravatin'. That is what mads me to this day.
+
+But, as Josiah says, who would have thought that Elburtus would have
+offered to carry that plow home, and throw down the fodder?
+
+But, at any rate, Philander turned the key on him while he wus up over-
+head, and locked him in there for the day. A meaner, low-liveder,
+miserabler caper, I never see nor heard of.
+
+But the way Philander gets out of it (he is a natural liar, and has had
+constant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus to
+work on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone out, and
+gone home; and he locked the door, and went away.
+
+He says (the mean, sneakin', hippocritical creeter!) that he feels like
+death about it, to think it happened so, and on that day too. And he says
+what makes him feel the meanest is, to think it was his wive's brother
+that wus up on the other side, and got the nomination. He says it leaves
+room for talk.
+
+And there it is. You can't sue a man for lockin' his own barn-door. And
+Elburtus wouldn't want it brought into court, anyway; for folks would be a
+wonderin' so what under the sun he wus a prowlin' round for up overhead in
+Philander Daggets'es barn.
+
+So he wus obliged to let the subject drop, and Philander has it all his
+own way. And they say his wive's brother give him ten silver dollars for
+his help. And that is pretty good pay for turnin' one lock, about 2
+seconts' work.
+
+Wall, anyway, that wus the last thing that happened to Elburtus in
+Jonesville; and whether he took it polite and easy, or not, I don't know.
+For that night, when Philander went down to the barn to fodder, jest
+before Josiah went there, and let him out (and acted perfectly suprised
+and horrified at findin' him there, Philander did, so I have been told),
+Elburtus started a bee-line for the depo, and never come back here at all;
+and he left a good new handkerchief, and a shirt, and 3 paper collars.
+
+And whether he has kep' on a sufferin', or not, I don't know. Mebby he had
+his trials in one batch, as you may say, and is now havin' a spell of
+enjoyments. I am sure, I hope so; for a cleverer, good-natureder, polite-
+appearin'er creeter, _I_ never see, nor don't expect to see agin in
+my life; and so I tell Josiah.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The next evenin' follerin' after the exodus of Elburtus Gansey, Josiah and
+I, thinkin' that we needed a relaxation to relax our two minds, rode into
+Jonesville. We went in the Democrat, at my request; for I wus in hopes
+Cicely would come home with us.
+
+And she did. We had a good ride. I sot in front with Josiah at his
+request; and what made it pleasanter wuz, the boy stood up in the Democrat
+behind me a good deal of the way, with his arms round my neck, a kissin'
+me.
+
+And when I waked up in the mornin', I wus glad to think they wus there.
+Though Cicely wuzn't well: I could see she wuzn't. I felt sad at the
+breakfast-table to see how her fresh young beauty wus bein' blowed away by
+the sharp breath of sorrow's gale.
+
+But she wus sweet and gentle as ever the posy wus we had named her after.
+No Sweet Cicely blow wus ever sweeter and purer than she wuz. After I got
+my work all done up below,--she offerin' to help me, and a not lettin' her
+lift her finger,--I went up into her room, where there wus a bright fire
+on the hearth, and every thing looked cozy and snug.
+
+The boy, havin' wore himself out a harrowin' his uncle Josiah and Ury with
+questions, had laid down on the crimson rug in front of the fire, and wus
+fast asleep, gettin' strength for new labors.
+
+And Cicely sot in a little low rockin'-chair by the side of him. She had
+on a white flannel mornin'-dress, and a thin white zephyr worsted shawl
+round her; and her silky brown hair hung down her back, for she had been a
+brushin' it out; and she looked sweet and pretty enough to kiss; and I
+kissed her right there, before I sot down, or any thing.
+
+And then, thinks'es I as I sot down, we will have a good, quiet visit, and
+talk some about other wimmen. (No runnin' 'em: I'd scorn it, and so would
+she.)
+
+But I thought I'd love to talk it over with her, about what good
+housekeepers Tirzah Ann and Maggie wuz. And I wanted to hear what she
+thought about the babe, and if she could say in cander that she ever see a
+little girl equal her in graces of mind and body.
+
+And I wanted to hear all about her aunt Mary and her aunt Melissa (on her
+father's side). I knew she had had letters from 'em. And I wanted to hear
+how she that was Jane Smith wuz, that lived neighbor to her aunt Mary's
+oldest daughter, and how that oldest daughter wuz, who wus s'posed to be a
+runnin' down. And I wanted to hear about Susan Ann Grimshaw, who had
+married her aunt Melissy's youngest son. There wus lots of news that I
+felt fairly sufferin' for, and lots of news that I felt like disseminatin'
+to her.
+
+But, if you'll believe it, jest as I had begun to inquire, and take
+comfort, she branched right off, a lady-like branch, and a courteous one,
+but still a branch, and begun to talk about "what should she do--what
+could she do--for the boy."
+
+And she looked down on him as he lay there, with such a boundless love,
+and a awful dread in her eyes, that it was pitiful in the extreme to see
+her; and says she,--
+
+"What will become of him in the future, aunt Samantha, with the laws as
+they are now?"
+
+[Illustration: THE BABY.]
+
+And with such a chin and mouth as he has got, says I to myself, lookin'
+down on him; but I didn't say it out loud. I am too well bread.
+
+"It must be we can get the laws changed before he grows up. I dare not
+trust him in a world that has such temptations, such snares set ready for
+him. Why," says she--And she fairly trembled as she said it. She would
+always throw her whole soul into any thing she undertook; and in this she
+had throwed her hull heart, too, and her hull life--or so it seemed to me,
+to look at her pale face, and her big, glowin' eyes, full of sadness, full
+of resolve too.
+
+"Why, just think of it! How he will be coaxed into those drinking-saloons!
+how, with his easy, generous, good-natured ways,--and I know he will have
+such ways, and be popular,--a bright, handsome young man, and with plenty
+of money. Just think of it! how, with those open saloons on every side of
+him, when he can't walk down the street without those gilded bars shining
+on every hand; and the friends he will make, gay, rich, thoughtless young
+men like himself--they will laugh at him if he refuses to do as they do;
+and with my boy's inherited tastes and temperament, his easiness to be led
+by those he loves, what will hinder him from going to ruin as his poor
+father did? What will keep him, aunt Samantha?"
+
+And she busted out a cryin'.
+
+I says, "Hush, Cicely," layin' my hand on hern. It wus little and soft,
+and trembled like a leaf. Some folks would have called her nervous and
+excitable; but I didn't, thinkin' what she had went through with the boy's
+father.
+
+Says I, "There is One who is able to save him. And, instead of gettin'
+yourself all worked up over what may never be, I think it would be better
+to ask Him to save the boy."
+
+"I do ask Him, every day, every hour," says she, sobbin' quieter like.
+
+"Wall, then, hush up, Cicely."
+
+And sometimes she would hush up, and sometimes she wouldn't.
+
+But how she would talk about what she wanted to do for him! I heard her
+talkin' to her uncle Josiah one day.
+
+You see, she worried about the boy to that extent, and loved him so, that
+she would have been willin' to have had her head took right off, if that
+would have helped him, if it would have insured him a safe and happy
+future; but it wouldn't: and so she was willin' to do any other hard job
+if there wus any prospect of its helpin' the boy.
+
+She wus willin' to vote on the temperance question.
+
+But Josiah wus more sot than usial that mornin' aginst wimmen's votin';
+and he had begun himself on the subject to Cicely; had talked powerful
+aginst it, but gentle: he loved Cicely as he did his eyes.
+
+He had been to a lecture the night before, to Toad Holler, a little place
+between Jonesville and Loontown. He and uncle Nate Burpy went up to hear a
+speech aginst wimmen's suffrage, in a Democrat.
+
+Josiah said it wus a powerful speech. He said uncle Nate said, "The feller
+that delivered it ort to be President of the United States:" he said,
+"That mind ort to be in the chair."
+
+And I said I persumed, from what I had heard of it, that his mind wuz
+tired, and ort to set down and rest.
+
+I spoke light, because Josiah Allen acted so high-headed about it. But I
+do s'pose it wus a powerful effort, from what I hearn.
+
+He talked dretful smart, they say, and used big words.
+
+[Illustration: A GREAT EFFORT.]
+
+The young feller that gin the lecture, and his sister, oldest, and she set
+her eyes by him. She had took care of the old folks, supported 'em and
+lifted 'em round herself; took all the care of 'em in every way till they
+died: and then this boy didn't seem to have much faculty for gettin'
+along; so she educated him, sewed for tailors' shops, and got money, and
+sent him to school and college, so he could talk big.
+
+And it was such a comfort to that sister, to sort o' rest off for an
+evenin' from makin' vests and pantaloons, cheap, to furnish him money!--it
+was so sort o' restful to her to set and hear him talk large aginst
+wimmen's suffrage and the weakness and ineficiency of wimmen!
+
+He said, the young chap did, and proved it right out, so they said, "that
+the franchise was too tuckerin' a job for wimmen to tackle, and that
+wimmen hadn't the earnestness and persistency and deep forethought to make
+her valuable as a franchiser--or safe."
+
+You see, he had his hull strength, the young chap did; for his sister had
+clothed him, as well as boarded him, and educated him: so he could talk
+powerful. He could use up quantities of wind, and not miss it, havin' all
+his strength.
+
+His speech made a deep impression on men and wimmen. His sister bein' so
+wore out, workin' so hard, wept for joy, it was so beautiful, and affected
+her so powerful. And she said "she never realized till that minute how
+weak and useless wimmen really was, and how strong and powerful men was."
+
+It wus a great effort. And she got a extra good supper for him that night,
+I heard, wantin' to repair the waste in his system, caused by eloquence.
+She wus supportin' him till he got a client: he wus a studyin' law.
+
+Wall, Josiah wus jest full of his arguments; and he talked 'em over to
+Cicely that mornin'.
+
+But she said, after hearin' 'em all, "that she wus willin' to vote on the
+temperance question. She had thought it all over," she said. "Thought how
+the nation lay under the curse of African slavery until that race of
+slaves were freed. And she believed, that when women who were now in legal
+bondage, were free to act as their heart and reason dictated, that they,
+who suffered most from intemperance, would be the ones to strike the blow
+that would free the land from the curse."
+
+Curius that she should feel so, but you couldn't get the idee out of her
+head. She had pondered over it day and night, she said,--pondered over it,
+and prayed over it.
+
+And, come to think it over, I don't know as it wus so curius after all,
+when I thought how Paul had ruined himself, and broke her heart, and how
+her money wus bein' used now to keep grog-shops open, four of her
+buildin's rented to liquor-dealers, and she couldn't help herself.
+
+Cicely owned lots of other landed property in the village where she lived;
+and so, of course, her property wus all taxed accordin' to its worth. And
+its bein' the biggest property there, of course it helped more than any
+thing else did to keep the streets smooth and even before the saloon-
+doors, so drunkards could get there easy; and to get new street-lamps in
+front of the saloons and billiard-rooms, so as to make a real bright light
+to draw 'em in and ruin 'em.
+
+There wus a few--the doctor, who knew how rum ruined men's bodies; and the
+minister, he knew how it ruined men's souls--they two, and a few others,
+worked awful hard to get the saloons shut up.
+
+But the executor, who wanted the town to go license, so's he could make
+money, and thinkin' it would be for her interest in the end, hired votes
+with her money. Her money used to hire liquor-votes! So she heard, and
+believed. The idee!
+
+So her money, and his influence, and the influence of low appetites,
+carried the day; and the liquor-traffic won. The men who rented her
+houses, voted for license to a man. Her property used agin to spread the
+evil! She labored with these men with tears in her eyes. And they liked
+her. She was dretful good to 'em. (As I say, she held the things of this
+world with a loose grip.)
+
+They listened to her respectful, stood with their hats in their' hands,
+answerin' her soft, and went soft out of her presence--and voted license
+to a man. You see, they wus all willin' to give her love and courtesy and
+kindness, but not the right to do as her heaven-learnt sense of right and
+wrong wanted her to. She had a fine mind, a pure heart: she had been
+through the highest schools of the land, and that higher, heavenly school
+of sufferin', where God is the teacher, and had graduated from 'em with
+her lofty purposes refined and made luminous with some thin' like the
+light of Heaven.
+
+But those men--many of 'em who did not know a letter of the alphabet,
+whose naturally dull minds had become more stupified by habitual vice--
+those men, who wus her inferiors, and her servants in every thing else,
+wus each one of 'em her king here, and she his slave: and they compelled
+her to obey thier lower wills.
+
+Wall, Cicely didn't think it wus right. Curius she should think so, some
+folks thought, but she did.
+
+But all this that wore on her wus as nothin' to what she felt about the
+boy,--her fears for his future. "What could she do--what _could_ she
+do for the boy, to make it safer for him in the future?"
+
+And I had jest this one answer, that I'd say over and over agin to her,--
+
+"Cicely, you can pray! That is all that wimmen can do. And try to
+influence him right now. God can take care of the boy."
+
+"But I can't keep him with me always; and other influences will come, and
+beat mine down. And I have prayed, but God don't hear my prayer."
+
+And I'd say, calm and soothin', "How do you know, Cicely?"
+
+And she says, "Why, how I prayed for help when my poor Paul went down to
+ruin, through the open door of a grog-shop! If the women of the land had
+it in their power to do what their hearts dictate,--what the poorest,
+lowest _man_ has the right to do,--every saloon, every low grog-shop,
+would be closed."
+
+She said this to Josiah the mornin' after the lecture I speak of. He sot
+there, seemin'ly perusin' the almanac; but he spoke up then, and says,--
+
+"You can't shet up human nater, Cicely: that will jump out any way. As the
+poet says, 'Nater will caper.'"
+
+But Cicely went right on, with her eyes a shinin', and a red spot in her
+white cheeks that I didn't like to see.
+
+"A thousand temptations that surround my boy now, could be removed, a
+thousand low influences changed into better, helpful ones. There are
+drunkards who long, who pray, to have temptations removed out of their
+way,--those who are trying to reform, and who dare not pass the door of a
+saloon, the very smell of the liquor crazing them with the desire for
+drink. They want help, they pray to be saved; and we who are praying to
+help them are powerless. What if, in the future, my boy should be like one
+of them,--weak, tempted, longing for help, and getting nothing but help
+towards vice and ruin? Haven't mothers a right to help those they love in
+_every_ way,--by prayer, by influence, by legal right and might?"
+
+"It would be a dangerous experiment, Cicely," says Josiah, crossin' his
+right leg over his left, and turnin' the almanac to another month. "It
+seems to me sunthin' unwomanly, sunthin' aginst nater. It is turnin' the
+laws of nater right round. It is perilous to the domestic nature of
+wimmen."
+
+"I don't think so," says I. "Don't you remember, Josiah Allen, how you
+worried about them hens that we carried to the fair? They wus so handsome,
+and such good layers, that I really wanted the influence of them hens to
+spread abroad. I wanted otherfolks to know about 'em, so's to have some
+like 'em. But you worried awfully. You wus so afraid that carryin' the
+hens into the turmoil of public life would have a tendency to keep 'em
+from wantin' to make nests and hatch chickens! But it didn't. Good land!
+one of 'em made a nest right there, in the coop to the fair, with the
+crowd a shoutin' round 'em, and laid two eggs. You can't break up nature's
+laws; _they_ are laid too deep and strong for any hammer we can get
+holt of to touch 'em; all the nations and empires of the world can't move
+'em round a notch.
+
+"A true woman's deepest love and desire are for her home and her loved
+ones, and planted right in by the side of these two loves of hern is a
+deathless instinct and desire to protect and save them from danger.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S HENS.]
+
+"Good land! I never heard a old hen called out of her spear, and unhenly,
+because she would fly out at a hawk, and cackle loud, and cluck, and try
+to lead her chickens off into safety. And while the rooster is a steppin'
+high, and struttin' round, and lookin' surprised and injured, it is the
+old hen that saves the chickens, nine times out of ten.
+
+"It is against the evil hawks,--men-hawks,--that are ready to settle down,
+and tear the young and innocent out of the home nest, that wimmen are
+tryin' to defend thier children from. And men may talk about wimmen's
+gettin' too excited and zealous; but they don't cluck and cackle half so
+loud as the old hen does, or flutter round half so earnest and fierce.
+
+"And the chicken-hawk hain't to be compared for danger to the men-hawks
+Cicely is tryin' to save her boy from. And I say it is domestic love in
+her to want to protect him, and tenderness, and nature, and grace, and--
+and--every thing."
+
+I wus wrought up, and felt deeply, and couldn't express half what I felt,
+and didn't much care if I couldn't. I wus so rousted up, I felt fairly
+reckless about carin' whether Josiah or anybody understood me or not. I
+knew the Lord understood me, and I knew what I felt in my own mind, and I
+didn't much care for any thing else. Wimmen do have such spells. They get
+fairly wore out a tryin' to express what they feel in thier souls to a
+gain-sayin' world, and have that world yell out at 'em, "Unwomanly!
+unwomanly!" I say, Cicely wuzn't unwomanly. I say, that, from the very
+depths of her lovin' little soul, she wus pure womanly, affectionate,
+earnest, tender-hearted, good; and, if anybody tells me she wuzn't, I'll
+know the reason why.
+
+But, while I wus a reveryin' this, my Josiah spoke out agin', and says,--
+
+"Influence the world through your child, Cicely! influence him, and let
+him influence the world. Let him make the world better and purer by your
+influencein' it through him."
+
+"Why not use that influence _now, myself_? I have it here right in my
+heart, all that I could hope to teach to my boy, at the best. And why
+wait, and set my hopes of influencing the world through him, when a
+thousand things may happen to weaken that influence, and death and change
+may destroy it? Why, my one great fear and dread is, that my boy will be
+led away by other, stronger influences than mine,--the temptations that
+have overthrown so many other children of prayer--how dare I hope that my
+boy will withstand them? And death may claim him before he could bear my
+influence to the world. Why not use it now, myself, to help him, and other
+mothers' boys? If it is, as you say, an experiment, why not let mothers
+try it? It could not do any harm; and it would ease our poor, anxious
+hearts some, to make the effort, even if it proved useless. No one can
+have a deeper interest in the children's welfare than their mothers. Would
+they be apt to do any thing to harm them?"
+
+And then I spoke up, entirely unbeknown to myself, and says,--
+
+"Selfishness has had its way for years and years in politics, and now why
+not let unselfishness have it for a change? For, Josiah Allen," says I
+firmly, "you know, and I know, that, if there is any unselfishness in this
+selfish world, it is in the heart of a mother."
+
+"It would be apt to be dangerous," says Josiah, crossin' his left leg over
+his right one, and turnin' to a new month in the almanac. "It would most
+likely be apt to be."
+
+"_Why_?" says Cicely. "Why is it dangerous? Why is it wrong for a
+women to try to help them she would die for? Yes," says she solemnly, "I
+would die for Paul any time if I knew it would smooth his pathway, make it
+easier for him to be a good man."
+
+"Wall, you see, Cicely," says Josiah in a soft tone,--his love for her
+softenin' and smoothin' out his axent till it sounded almost foolish and
+meachin',--"you see, it would be dangerous for wimmen to vote, because
+votin' would be apt to lower wimmen in the opinion of us men and the
+public generally. In fact, it would be apt to lower wimmen down to mingle
+in a lower class. And it would gaul me dretfully," says Josiah, turnin' to
+me, "to have our sweet Cicely lower herself into a lower grade of society:
+it would cut me like a knife."
+
+And then I spoke right up, for I can't stand too much foolishness at one
+time from man or woman; and I says,--
+
+"I'd love to have you speak up, Josiah Allen, and tell me how wimmen would
+go to work to get any lower in the opinion of men; how they could get into
+any lower grade of society than they are minglin' with now. They are
+ranked now by the laws of the United States, and the will of men, with
+idiots, lunatics, and criminals. And how pretty it looks for you men to
+try to scare us, and make us think there is a lower class we could get
+into! _There hain't any lower class that we can get into_ than the
+ones we are in now; and you know it, Josiah Allen. And you sha'n't scare
+Cicely by tryin' to make her think there is."
+
+He quailed. He knew there wuzn't. He knew he had said it to scare us,
+Cicely and me, and he felt considerable meachin' to think he had got found
+out in it. But he went on in ruther of a meek tone,--
+
+"It would be apt to make talk, Cicely."
+
+"What do I care for talk?" says she. "What do I care for honor, or praise,
+or blame? I only want to try to save my boy."
+
+[Illustration: CICELY AND HER PEERS.]
+
+And she kep' right on with her tender, earnest voice, and her eyes a
+shinin' like stars,--
+
+"Have I not a right to help him? Is he not _my_ child? Did not God
+give me a _right_ to him, when I went down into the darkness with God
+alone, and a soul was given into my hands? Did I not suffer for him? Have
+I not been blessed in him? Why, his little hands held me back from the
+gates of death. By all the rights of heavenliest joy and deepest agony--is
+he not _mine_? Have I not a _right_ to help him in his future?
+
+"Now I hold him in my arms, my flesh, my blood, my life. I hold him on my
+heart now: he is _mine_. I can shield him from danger: if he should
+fall into the flames, I could reach in after him, and die with him, or
+save him. God and man give me that right now: I do not have to ask for it.
+
+"But in a few years he will go out from me, carrying my own life with him,
+my heart will go with him, to joy or to death. He will go out into dangers
+a thousand-fold worse than death,--dangers made respectable and legal,--
+and I can't help him.
+
+"_I_ his mother, who would die for him any hour--I must stand with my
+eyes open, but my hands bound, and see him rushing headlong into flames
+tenfold hotter than fire; see him on the brink of earthly and eternal
+ruin, and can't reach out my hand to hold him back. My _boy!_ My
+_own!_ Is it right? Is it just?"
+
+And she got up, and walked the room back and forth, and says,--
+
+"How can I bear the thought of it? How can I live and endure it? And how
+can I die, and leave the boy?"
+
+And her eyes looked so big and bright, and that spot of red would look so
+bright on her white cheeks, that I would get skairt. And I'd try to sooth
+her down, and talk gentle to her. And I says,--
+
+"All things are possible with God, and you must wait and hope."
+
+But she says, "What will hope do for me when my boy is lost? I want to
+save him now."
+
+It did beat all, as I told Josiah, out to one side, to see such hefty
+principles and emotions in such a little body. Why, she didn't weigh much
+over 90, if she did any.
+
+And Josiah whispered back, "All women hain't like Cicely."
+
+And I says in the same low, deep tones, "All men hain't like George
+Washington! Now get me a pail of water."
+
+And he went out. But it did beat all, how that little thing, when she
+stood ready, seemin'ly, to tackle the nation--I've seen her jump up in a
+chair, afraid of a mice. The idee of anybody bein' afraid of a mice, and
+ready to tackle the Constitution!
+
+And she'd blush up red as a rosy if a stranger would speak to her. But she
+would fight the hull nation for her boy.
+
+And I'd try to sooth her (for that red spot on her cheeks skairt me, and I
+foreboded about her). I said to her after Josiah went out, a holdin' her
+little hot hands in mine,--for sometimes her hands would be hot and
+feverish, and then, agin, like two snowflakes,--
+
+"Cicely, women's voting on intemperance would, as your uncle Josiah says,
+be a experiment. I candidly think and believe that it would be a good
+thing,--a blessin' to the youth of the land, a comfort to the females, and
+no harm to the males. But, after all, we don't know what it would do"--
+
+"I _know_" says she. And her eyes had such a far-off, prophetic look
+in 'em, that I declare for't, if I didn't almost think she _did_
+know. I says to myself,--
+
+"She's so sweet and unselfish and good, that I believe she's more than
+half-ways into heaven now. The Holy Scriptures, that I believe in, says,
+'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' And it don't say
+where they shall see Him, or when. And it don't say that the light that
+fell from on high upon the blessed mother of our Lord, shall never fall
+again on other heart-broken mothers, on other pure souls beloved of Him."
+
+And it is the honest truth, that it would not have surprised me much
+sometimes, as she wus settin' in the twilight with the boy in her arms, if
+I had seen a halo round her head; and so I told Josiah one night, after
+she had been a settin' there a holdin' the boy, and a singin' low to
+him,--
+
+  "'A charge to keep I have,--
+    A God to glorify;
+  A never-dying soul to save,
+    And fit it for the sky.'"
+
+It wuzn't _her_ soul she wus a thinkin' of, I knew. She didn't think
+of herself: she never did.
+
+And after she went to bed, I mentioned the halo. And Josiah asked what
+that was. And I told him it was "the inner glory that shines out from a
+pure soul, and crowns a holy life."
+
+And he said "he s'posed it was some sort of a headdress. Wimmen was so
+full of new names, he thought it was some new kind of a crowfar."
+
+I knew what he meant. He didn't mean crowfar, he meant _crowfure_.
+That is French. But I wouldn't hurt his feelin's by correctin' him; for I
+thought "fur" or "fure," it didn't make much of any difference.
+
+[Illustration: "A CHARGE TO KEEP I HAVE."]
+
+Wall, the very next day, when Josiah came from Jonesville,--he had been to
+mill,--he brought Cicely a letter from her aunt Mary. She wanted her to
+come on at once; for her daughter, who wus a runnin' down, wus supposed to
+be a runnin' faster than she had run. And her aunt Mary was goin' to start
+for the Michigan very soon,--as soon as she got well enough: she wasn't
+feelin' well when she wrote. And she wanted Cicely to come at once.
+
+So she went the next day, but promised that jest as quick as she got
+through visitin' her aunt and her other relations there, she would come
+back here.
+
+So she went; and I missed her dretfully, and should have missed her more
+if it hadn't been for the state my companion returned in after he had
+carried Cicely to the train.
+
+He come home rampant with a new idee. All wrought up about goin' into
+politics. He broached the subject to me before he onharnessed, hitchin'
+the old mair for the purpose. He wanted to be United-States senator. He
+said he thought the nation needed him.
+
+"Needs you for what?" says I coldly, cold as a ice suckle.
+
+"Why, it needs somebody it can lean on, and it needs somebody that can
+lean. I am a popular man," says he. "And if I can help the nation, I will
+be glad to do it; and if the nation can help me, I am willin'. The change
+from Jonesville to Washington will be agreeable and relaxin', and I lay
+out to try it."
+
+Says I, in sarkastick tones, "It is a pity you hain't got your free pass
+to go on:--you remember that incident, don't you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"What of it?" he snapped out. "What if I do?"
+
+"Wall, I thought then, that, when you got high-headed and haughty on any
+subject agin, mebby you would remember that pass, and be more modest and
+unassuming."
+
+He riz right up, and hollered at me,--
+
+"Throw that pass in my face, will you, at this time of year?"
+
+And he started for the barn, almost on the run.
+
+But I didn't care. I wus bound to break up this idee of hisen at once. If
+I hadn't been, I shouldn't have mentioned the free pass to him. For it is
+a subject so gaulin' to him, that I never allude to it only in cases of
+extreme danger and peril, or uncommon high-headedness.
+
+Now I have mentioned it, I don't know but it will be expected of me to
+tell about this pass of hisen. But, if I do, it mustn't go no further; for
+Josiah would be mad, mad as a hen, if he knew I told about it.
+
+I will relate the history in another epistol.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+This free pass of Josiah Allen's wus indeed a strange incident, and it
+made sights and sights of talk.
+
+But of course there wus considerable lyin' about it, as you know the way
+is. Why, it does beat all how stories will grow.
+
+Why, when I hear a story nowadays, I always allow a full half for
+shrinkage, and sometimes three-quarters; and a good many times that hain't
+enough. Such awful lyin' times! It duz beat all.
+
+But about this strange thing that took place and happened, I will proceed
+and relate the plain and unvarnished history of it. And what I set down in
+this epistol, you can depend upon. It is the plain truth, entirely
+unvarnished: not a mite of varnish will there be on it.
+
+A little over two years ago Josiah Allen, my companion, had a opportunity
+to buy a wood-lot cheap. It wus about a mild and a half from here, and one
+side of the lot run along by the side of the railroad. A Irishman had
+owned it previous and prior to this time, and had built a little shanty on
+it, and a pig-pen. But times got hard, the pig died, and owing to that,
+and other financikal difficulties, the Irishman had to sell the place,
+"ten acres more or less, runnin' up to a stake, and back again," as the
+law directs.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH'S WOOD-LOT.]
+
+Wall, he beset my companion Josiah to buy it; and as he had plenty of
+money in the Jonesville bank to pay for it, and the wood on our wood-lot
+wus gettin' pretty well thinned out, I didn't make no objection to the
+enterprize, but, on the other hand, I encouraged him in it. And so he made
+the bargain with him, the deed wus made out, the Irishman paid. And Josiah
+put a lot of wood-choppers in there to work; and they cut, and drawed the
+wood to Jonesville, and made money. Made more than enough the first six
+months to pay for the expenditure and outlay of money for the lot.
+
+He did well. And he calculated to do still better; for he said the place
+bein' so near Jonesville, he laid out, after he had got the wood off, and
+sold it, and kep' what he wanted, he calculated and laid out to sell the
+place for twice what he give for it. Josiah Allen hain't nobody's fool in
+a bargain, a good deal of the time he hain't. He knows how to make good
+calculations a good deal of the time. He thought somebody would want the
+place to build on.
+
+Wall, I asked him one day what he laid out to do with the shanty and the
+pig-pen that wus on it. The pig-pen wus right by the side of the railroad-
+track.
+
+And he said he laid out to tear 'em down, and draw the lumber home: he
+said the boards would come handy to use about the premises.
+
+Wall, I told him I thought that would be a good plan, or words to that
+effect. I can't remember the exact words I used, not expectin' that I
+would ever have to remember back, and lay 'em to heart. Which I should not
+had it not been for the strange and singular things that occurred and took
+place afterwards.
+
+Then I asked my companion, if I remember rightly, "When he laid out to
+draw the boards home?" For I mistrusted there would be some planks amongst
+'em, and I wanted a couple to lay down from the back-door to the pump. The
+old ones wus gettin' all cracked up and broke in spots.
+
+And he said he should draw 'em up the first day he could spare the team.
+Wall, this wus along in the first week in April that we had this talk:
+warm and pleasant the weather wus, exceedingly so, for the time of year.
+And I proposed to him that we should have the children come home on the
+8th of April, which wus Thomas J.'s birthday, and have as nice a dinner as
+we could get, and buy a handsome present for him. And Josiah was very
+agreeable to the idee (for when did a man ever look scornfully on the idee
+of a good dinner?).
+
+And so the next day I went to work, and cooked up every thing I could
+think of that would be good. I made cakes of all kinds, and tarts, and
+jellys. And I wus goin' to have spring lamb and a chicken-pie (a layer of
+chicken, and a layer of oysters. I can make a chicken-pie that will melt
+in your mouth, though I am fur from bein' the one that ort to say it); and
+I wus goin' to have a baked fowl, and vegetables of all kinds, and every
+thing else I could think of that wus good. And I baked a large plum-cake a
+purpose for Whitfield, with "Our Son" on it in big red sugar letters, and
+the dates of his birth and the present date on each side of it.
+
+I do well by the children, Josiah says I do; and they see it now, the
+children do; they see it plainer every day, they say they do. They say,
+that since they have gone out into the world more, and seen more of the
+coldness and selfishness of the world, they appreciate more and more the
+faithful affection of her whose name wus once Smith.
+
+Yes, they like me better and better every year, they say they do. And they
+treat me pretty, dretful pretty. I don't want to be treated prettier by
+anybody than the children treat me.
+
+And their affectionate devotion pays me, it pays me richly, for all the
+care and anxiety they caused me. There hain't no paymaster like Love: he
+pays the best wages, and the most satisfyin', of anybody I ever see. But I
+am a eppisodin', and to resoom and continue on.
+
+Wall! the dinner passed off perfectly delightful and agreeable. The
+children and Josiah eat as if--Wall, suffice it to say, the way they eat
+wus a great compliment to the cook, and I took it so.
+
+Thomas J. wus highly delighted with his presents. I got him a nice white
+willow rockin'-chair, with red ribbons run all round the back, and bows of
+the same on top, and a red cushion,--a soft feather cushion that I made
+myself for it, covered with crimson rep (wool goods, very nice). Why, the
+cushion cost me above 60 cents, besides my work and the feathers.
+
+Josiah proposed to get him a acordeun, but I talked him out of that; and
+then he wanted to get him a bright blue necktie. But I perswaided him to
+give him a handsome china coffee cup and saucer, with "To My Son" painted
+on it; and I urged him to give him that, with ten new silver dollars in
+it. Says I, "He is all the son you have got, and a good son." And Josiah
+consented after a parlay. Why, the chair I give him cost about as much as
+that; and it wuzn't none too good, not at all.
+
+Wall, he had a lovely day. And what made it pleasanter, we had a prospect
+of havin' another jest as good. For in about 2 months' time it would be
+Tirzah's Ann's birthday; and we both told her, Josiah and me, both did,
+that she must get ready for jest another such a time. For we laid out to
+treat 'em both alike (which is both Christian and common sense). And we
+told 'em they must all be ready to come home that day, Providence and the
+weather permittin'.
+
+Wall, it wus so awful pleasant when the children got ready to go home,
+that Josiah proposed that he and me should go along to Jonesville with
+'em, and carry little Samantha Joe. And I wus very agreeable to the idee,
+bein' a little tired, and thinkin' such a ride would be both restful and
+refreshin'.
+
+And, oh! how beautiful every thing looked as we rode along! The sun wus
+goin' down in glory; and Jonesville layin' to the west of us, we seemed to
+be a ridin' along right into that glory--right towards them golden
+palaces, and towers of splendor, that riz up from the sea of gold. And
+behind them shinin' towers wus shadowy mountain ranges of softest color,
+that melted up into the tender blue of the April sky. And right in the
+east a full moon wuz sailin', lookin' down tenderly on Josiah and me and
+the babe--and Jonesville and the world. And the comet sot there up in the
+sky like a silent and shinin' mystery.
+
+The babe's eyes looked big and dreamy and thoughtful. She has got the
+beautifulest eyes, little Samantha Joe has. You can look down deep into
+'em, and see yourself in 'em; but, beyond yourself, what is it you can
+see? I can't tell, nor nobody. The ellusive, wonderful beauty that lays in
+the innocent baby eyes of little Samantha Joe. The sweet, fur-off look, as
+if she wus a lookin' right through this world into a fairer and more
+peaceful one.
+
+[Illustration: GOD'S COMMA.]
+
+And how smart they be, who can answer their questioning,--questionin'
+about every thing. Nobody can't--Josiah can't, nor I, nor nobody. Pretty
+soon she looked up at the comet; and says she, "Nama,"--she can't say
+grandma,--"Nama, is that God's comma?"
+
+Now, jest see how deep that wuz, and beautiful, very. The heavens wuz full
+of the writin' of God, writin' we can't read yet, and translate into our
+coarser language; and she, with her deep, beautiful eyes, a readin' it
+jest as plain as print, and puttin' in all the marks of punctuation.
+Readin' the marvellous poem of glory, with its tremblin' pause of flame.
+
+Josiah says, it is because she couldn't say comet; but I know better. Says
+I, "Josiah Allen, hain't it the same shape as a comma?"
+
+And he had to gin it up that it was. And in a minute or two she says
+agin,--
+
+"Nama, what is the comma up there for?"
+
+Now hear that, how deep that wuz. Who could answer that question? I
+couldn't, nor Josiah couldn't. Nor the wisest philosopher that ever walked
+the earth, not one of 'em. From them that kept their night-watches on the
+newly built pyramids, to the astronimers of to-day who are spending their
+lives in the study of the heavens. If every one of them learned men of the
+world, livin' and dead, if they all stood in rows in our door-yard in
+front of little Samantha Joe, they would have to bow their haughty heads
+before her, and put their finger on their lips. Them lips could say very
+large words in every language under the sun; but they couldn't answer my
+baby's question, not one of 'em.
+
+But I am eppisodin' fearfully, fearfully; and to resoom.
+
+We left the children and the babe safe in their respective housen', and
+happy; and we went on placidly to Jonesville, got our usual groceries, and
+stopped to the post-office. Josiah went into the office, and come out with
+his "World," and one letter, a big letter with a blue envelope. I thought
+it had a sort of a queer look, but I didn't say nothin'. And it bein' sort
+o' darkish, he didn't try to open it till we got home. Only I says,--
+
+"Who do you s'pose your letter is from, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "I don't know: the postmaster had a awful time a tryin' to
+make out who it was to. I should think, by his tell, it wus the dumbdest
+writin' that ever wus seen. I should think, by his tell, it went ahead of
+yourn."
+
+"Wall," says I, "there is no need of your swearin'." Says I, "If I wus a
+grandfather, Josiah Allen, I would choose my words with a little more
+decency, not to say morality."
+
+"Wall, wall! your writin' is enough to make a man sweat, and you know it."
+
+"I hadn't disputed it," says I with dignity. And havin' laid the blame of
+the bad writin' of the letter he had got, off onto his companion, as the
+way of male pardners is, he felt easy and comfortable in his mind, and
+talked agreeable all the way home, and affectionate, some.
+
+Wall, we got home; and I lit a light, and fixed the fire so it burnt
+bright and clear. And I drawed up a stand in front of the fire, with a
+bright crimson spread on it, for the lamp; and I put Josiah's rockin'-
+chair and mine, one on each side of it; and put Josiah's slippers in front
+of the hearth to warm. And then I took my knittin'-work, and went to
+knittin'; and by that time Josiah had got his barn-chores all done, and
+come in.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH READING THE LETTER.]
+
+And the very first thing he did after he come in, and drawed off his
+boots, and wondered "why under the gracious heavens it was, that the
+bootjack never could be found where he had left it" (which was right in
+the middle of the settin'-room floor). But he found it hangin' up in its
+usual place in the closet, only a coat had got hung up over it so he
+couldn't see it for half a minute.
+
+And after he had his warm slippers on, and got sot down in his easy-chair
+opposite to his beloved companion, he grew calmer again, and more
+placider, and drawed out that letter from his pocket.
+
+And I sot there a knittin', and a watchin' my companion's face at the same
+time; and I see that as he read the letter, he looked smut, and sort o'
+wonder-struck: and says I,--
+
+"Who is your letter from, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, lookin' up on top of it,--
+
+"It is from the headquarters of the Railroad Company;" and says he,
+lookin' close at it agin, "As near as I can make out, it is a free pass
+for me to ride on the railroad."
+
+Says I, "Why, that can't be, Josiah Allen. Why should they give you a free
+pass?"
+
+"I don't know," says he. "But I know it is one. The more I look at it,"
+says he, growin' excited over it,--"the more I look at it, the plainer I
+can see it. It is a free pass."
+
+Says I, "I don't believe it, Josiah Allen."
+
+"Wall, look at it for yourself, Samantha Allen" (when he is dretful
+excited, he always calls me Samantha Allen), "and see what it is, if it
+hain't that;" and he throwed it into my lap.
+
+[Illustration: COPY OF THE LETTER: FREE PASS.]
+
+I looked at it close and severe, but not one word could I make out, only I
+thought I could partly make out the word "remove," and along down the
+sheet the word "place," and there wus one word that did look like "free."
+And Josiah jumped at them words; and says he,--
+
+"It means, you know, the pass reads like this, for me to remove myself
+from place to place, free. Don't you see through it?" says he.
+
+"No," says I, holdin' the paper up to the light. "No, I don't see through
+it, far from it."
+
+"Wall," says he, highly excited and tickled, "I'll try it to-morrow,
+anyway. I'll see whether I am in the right, or not."
+
+And he went on dreamily, "Lemme see--I have got to move that lumber in the
+mornin' up from my wood-lot. But it won't take me more'n a couple of
+hours, or so, and in the afternoon I'll take a start."
+
+Says I, "What under the sun, Josiah Allen, should the Railroad Company
+give you a free pass for?"
+
+"Wall," says he, "I have my thoughts."
+
+He spoke in a dretful sort of a mysterious way, but proud; and I says,--
+
+"What do you think is the reason, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "It hain't always best to tell what you think. I hain't
+obleeged to," says he.
+
+And I says, "No. As the poet saith, nobody hain't obleeged to use common
+sense unless they have got it;" and I says, in a meanin' tone, "No, I
+can't obleege you to tell me."
+
+Wall, sure enough, the next day, jest as quick as he got that lumber
+drawed up to the house, Josiah Allen dressed up, and sot off for
+Jonesville, and come home at night as tickled a man as I ever see, if not
+tickleder.
+
+And he says, "Now what do you think, Samantha Allen? Now what do you think
+about my ridin' on that pass?"
+
+And I says, "Have you rode on it, Josiah Allen?"
+
+And he says, "Yes, mom, I have. I have rode to Loontown and back; and I
+might have gone ten times as fur, and not a word been said."
+
+And I says, "What did the conductor say?"
+
+And he says, "He didn't say nothin'. When he asked me for my fare, I told
+him I had a free pass, and I showed it to him. And he took it, and looked
+at it close, and took out his specks, and looked and looked at it for a
+number of minutes; and then he handed it back to me, and I put it into my
+pocket; and that wus all there was of it."
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING DUBERSOME.]
+
+Says I, "How did the conductor look when he was a readin' it?"
+
+And he owned up that he looked dubersome. But, says he, "I rode on it, and
+I told you that I could."
+
+"Wall," says I, sithin', "there is a great mystery about it."
+
+Says he, "There hain't no mystery to me."
+
+And then I beset him agin to tell me what he thought the reason wus they
+give it to him.
+
+And he said "he thought it was because he was so smart." Says he, "I am a
+dumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as plain
+as I wanted to." And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder every
+minute,--
+
+"I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car on
+the track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable and
+dressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose the
+railroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took the
+right way to do it. I shall speak well of 'em as long as I can ride free.
+And, oh! what solid comfort I shall take, Samantha, a ridin' on that pass!
+I calculate to see the world now. And there is nothin' under the sun to
+hender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of such a
+influential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you to go a
+mopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the future on
+my free pass."
+
+"No," says I. "I sha'n't ride off on a mystery. I prefer a mare."
+
+Says he, for he wus that proud and excited that you couldn't stop him
+nohow,--
+
+"It will be a dretful savin' of money, but that hain't what I think of the
+most. It is the honor they are a heapin' onto me. To think that they think
+so much of me, set such a store by me, and look up to me so, that they
+send me a free pass without my makin' a move to ask for it. Why, it shows
+plain, Samantha, that I am one of the first men of the age."
+
+And so he would go on from hour to hour, and from day to day; and I wus
+that dumbfoundered and wonderin' about it, that I couldn't for my life
+tell what to think of it. It worried me.
+
+But from that day Josiah Allen rode on that pass, every chance he got.
+Why, he went to the Ohio on it, on a visit to his first wive's sister; and
+he went to Michigan on it, and to the South, and everywhere he could think
+of. Why, he fairly hunted up relations on it, and I told him so.
+
+And after he got 'em hunted up, he'd take them onto that pass, and ride
+round with 'em on it.
+
+And he told every one of 'em, he told everybody, that he thought as much
+agin of the honor as he did of the money. It showed that he wus thought so
+much of, not only in Jonesville, but the world at large.
+
+Why, he took such solid comfort in it, that it did honestly seem as if he
+grew fat, he wus so puffed up by it, and proud. And some of the neighbors
+that he boasted so before, wus eat up with envy, and seemed mad to think
+he had come to such honor, and they hadn't. But the madder they acted, the
+tickleder he seemed, and more prouder, and high-headeder.
+
+But I could not feel so. I felt that there wus sunthin' strange and curius
+about it. And it wus very, very seldom that Josiah could get me to ride on
+it. Though I did take a few short journeys on it, to please him. But I
+felt sort o' uneasy while I was a ridin' on it, same as you feel when you
+are goin' up-hill with a heavy load and a little horse. You kinder stand
+on your feet, and lean forward, as if your bein' oncomfortable, and
+standin' up, helped the horse some.
+
+I had a good deal of that restless feelin', and oneasy. And as I told
+Josiah time and time again, "that for stiddy ridin' I preferred a mare to
+a mystery."
+
+Wall, it run along for a year; and Josiah said he s'posed he'd have to
+write on, and get the pass renewed. As near as he could make out, it run
+out about the 4th day of April. So he wrote down to the head one in New-
+York village; and the answer came back by return mail, and wrote in plain
+writin' so we could read it.
+
+It seemed there wus a mistake. It wuzn't a free pass, it wus a order for
+Josiah Allen to remove a pig-pen from his place on the railroad-track
+within three days.
+
+There it wuz, a order to remove a nuisence; and Josiah Allen had been a
+ridin' on it for a year, with pride in his mean, and haughtiness in his
+demeanor.
+
+Wall, I never see a man more mortified and cut up than Josiah Allen wuz.
+If he hadn't boasted so over its bein' gin to him on account of his bein'
+so smart and popular and etcetery, he wouldn't have felt so cut up. But as
+it was, it bowed down his bald head into the dust (allegory).
+
+But he didn't stay bowed down for any length of time: truly, men are
+constituted in such a way that mortification don't show on 'em for any
+length of time.
+
+But it made sights and sights of talk in Jonesville. The Jonesvillians
+made sights and sights of fun of him, poked fun at him, and snickered. I
+myself didn't say much: it hain't my way. I merely says this: says I,--
+
+"You thought you wus so awful popular, Josiah Allen, mebby you won't go
+round with so haughty a mean onto you right away."
+
+"Throw my mean in my face if you want to," says he. "But I guess," says
+he, "it will learn 'em another time to take a little more pains with their
+duck's tracks, dumb 'em!"
+
+Says I, "Stop instantly." And he knew what I meant, and stopped.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AND HIS RELATIONS ON THE PASS.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Josiah is as kind-hearted a man as was ever made. And he loves me with a
+devotion, that though hidden sometimes, like volcanic fires, and other
+married men's affections for their wives, yet it bursts out occasionally
+in spurts and jets of unexpected tenderness.
+
+Now, the very next mornin' after Cicely left for her aunt Mary's, he gave
+me a flaming proof of that hidden fire that burns but don't consume him.
+
+A agent come to our dwelling, and with the bland and amiable air of their
+sect, asked me,--
+
+"If I would buy a encyclopedia?"
+
+I was favorable to the idee, and showed it by my looks and words; but
+Josiah wus awful set against it. And the more favorable I talked about it,
+the more horrow-struck and skairt Josiah Allen looked. And finally he got
+behind the agent, and winked at me, and made motions for me to foller him
+into the buttery. He wunk several times before I paid much attention to
+'em; but finally, the winks grew so violent, and the motions so imperious,
+yet clever, that I got up, and follered him into the buttery. He shet the
+door, and stood with his back against it; and says to me, with his voice
+fairly tremblin' with his emotions,--
+
+"It will throw you, Samantha! you don't want to buy it."
+
+"What will throw me? and when?" says I.
+
+"Why," says he, "you can't never ride it! How should I feel to see you on
+one of 'em! It skairs me most to death to see a boy ride 'em; and at your
+age, and with your rheumatiz, you'd get throwed, and get your neck broke,
+the first day." Says he, "If you have got to have something more stylish,
+and new-fangled than the old mair, I'd ruther buy you a philosopher. They
+are easier-going than a encyclopedia, anyway."
+
+"A philosopher?" says I dreamily.
+
+"Yes, such a one as Tom Gowdey has got."
+
+Says I, "You mean a velocipede!"
+
+"Yes, and I'll get you one ruther than have you a ridin' round the country
+on a encyclopedia."
+
+His tender thoughtfulness touched my heart, and I explained to him all
+about 'em. He thought it was some kind of a bycicle. And he brightened up,
+and didn't make no objections to my gettin' one.
+
+Wall, that very afternoon he went to Jonesville, and come home, as I said,
+all rousted up about bein' a senator. I s'pose Elburtus'es bein' there,
+and talkin' so much on politics, had kinder sot him to thinkin' on it.
+Anyway, he come home from Jonesville perfectly rampant with the idee of
+bein' United-States senator. "He said he had been approached on the
+subject."
+
+He said it in that sort of a haughty, high-headed way, such as men will
+sometimes assume when they think they have had some high honors heaped
+onto 'em.
+
+Says I, "Who has approached you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING APPROACHED.]
+
+"Wall," he said, "it might be a foreign minister, and it might be uncle
+Nate Gowdey." He thought it wouldn't be best to tell who it was. "But,"
+says he, "I am bound to be senator. Josiah Allen, M.C., will probable be
+wrote on my letters before another fall. I am bound to run."
+
+Says I coldly, "You know you can't run. You are as lame as you can be. You
+have got the rheumatiz the worst kind."
+
+Says he, "I mean runnin' with political legs--and I do want to be a
+senator, Samantha. I want to, like a dog, I want the money there is in it,
+and I want the honor. You know they have elected me path-master, but I
+hain't a goin' to accept it. I tell you, when anybody gets into political
+life, ambition rousts up in 'em: path-master don't satisfy me. I want to
+be senator: I want to, like a dog. And I don't lay out to tackle the job
+as Elburtus did, and act too good."
+
+"No!" says I sternly. "There hain't no danger of your bein' too good."
+
+"No: I have laid my plans, and laid 'em careful. The relation on your side
+was too willin', and too clever. And witnessin' his campaign has learnt me
+some deep lessons. I watched the rocks he hit aginst; and I have laid my
+plans, and laid 'em careful. I am going to act offish. I feel that
+offishness is my strong holt--and endearin' myself to the masses.
+Educatin' public sentiment up to lovin' me, and urgin' me not to be so
+offish, and to obleege 'em by takin' a office--them is my 2 strong holts.
+If I can only hang back, and act onwillin', and get the masses fierce to
+elect me--why, I'm made. And then, I've got a plan in my head."
+
+I groaned, in spite of myself.
+
+"I have got a plan in my head, that, if every other plan fails, will elect
+me in spite of the old Harry."
+
+Oh! how that oath grated against my nerve! And how I hung back from this
+idee! I am one that looks ahead. And I says in firm tones,--
+
+"You never would get the nomination, Josiah Allen! And if you did, you
+never would be elected."
+
+"Oh, yes, I should!" says he. But he continued dreamily, "There would have
+to be considerable wire-pullin'."
+
+"Where would the wires be?" says I sternly. "And who would pull 'em?"
+
+"Oh, most anywhere!" says he, lookin' dreamily up onto the kitchen
+ceilin', as if wires wus liable to be let down anywhere through the
+plasterin'.
+
+Says I, "Should you have to go to pullin' wires?"
+
+"Of course I should," says he.
+
+"Wall," says I, "you may as well make up your mind in the first ont, that
+I hain't goin' to give my consent to have you go into any thing dangerous.
+I hain't goin' to have you break your neck, at your age."
+
+Says he, "I don't know but my age is as good a age to break my neck in as
+any other. I never sot any particular age to break my neck in."
+
+"Make fun all you are a mind to of a anxious Samantha," says I, "but I
+will never give my consent to have you plunge into such dangerous
+enterprizes. And talkin' about pullin' wires sounds dangerous: it sounds
+like a circus, somehow; and how would _you_, with your back, look and
+feel performin' like a circus?"
+
+"Oh, you don't understand, Samantha! the wires hain't pulled in that way.
+You don't pull 'em with your hands, you pull 'em with your minds."
+
+"Oh, wall!" says I, brightenin' up. "You are all right in that case: you
+won't pull hard enough to hurt you any."
+
+I knew the size and strength of his mind, jest as well as if I had took it
+out of his head, and weighed it on the steelyards. It was _not_ over
+and above large. I knew it; and he knew that I knew it, because I have had
+to sometimes, in the cause of Right, remind him of it. But he knows that
+my love for him towers up like a dromedary, and moves off through life as
+stately as she duz--the dromedary. Josiah was my choice out of a world
+full of men. I love Josiah Allen. But to resoom and continue on.
+
+Josiah says, "Which side had I better go on, Samantha?" Says he, kinder
+puttin' his head on one side, and lookin' shrewdly up at the stove-pipe,
+"Would you run as a Stalwart, or a Half-breed?"
+
+Says I, "I guess you would run more like a lame hen than a Stalwart or a
+Half-breed; or," says I, "it would depend on what breeds they wuz. If they
+wus half snails, and half Times in the primers, maybe you could get ahead
+of 'em."
+
+"I should think, Samantha Allen, in such a time as this, you would act
+like a rational bein'. I'll be hanged if I know what side to go on to get
+elected!"
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, hain't you got any principle? Don't you _know_
+what side you are on?"
+
+"Why, yes, I s'pose I know as near as men in gineral. I'm a Democrat in
+times of peace. But it is human nater, to want to be on the side that
+beats."
+
+I sithed, and murmured instinctively, "George Washington!"
+
+"George Granny!" says he.
+
+I sithed agin, and kep' sithin'.
+
+Says I, "It is bad enough, Josiah Allen, to have you talk about runnin'
+for senator, and pullin' wires, and etcetery. But, oh, oh! my agony to
+think my partner is destitute of principle."
+
+"I have got as much as most political men, and you'll find it out so,
+Samantha."
+
+My groans touched his heart--that man loves me.
+
+"I am goin' to work as they all do. But wimmen hain't no heads for
+business, and I always said so. They don't look out for the profits of
+things, as men do."
+
+I didn't say nothin' only my sithes, but they spoke volumes to any one who
+understood their language. But anon, or mebby before,--I hadn't kep' any
+particular account of time, but I think it wus about anon,--when another
+thought struck me so, right in my breast, that it most knocked me over. It
+hanted me all the rest of that day: and all that night I lay awake and
+worried, and I'd sithe, and sposen the case; and then I'd turn over, and
+sposen the case, and sithe.
+
+Sposen he would be elected--I didn't really think he would, but I couldn't
+for my life help sposen. Sposen he would have to go to Washington. I knew
+strange things took place in politics. Strange men run, and run fur: some
+on 'em run clear to Washington. Mebby he would. Oh! how I groaned at the
+idee!
+
+I thought of the awfulness of that place as I had heard it described upon
+to me; and then I thought of the weakness of men, and their liability to
+be led astray. I thought of the powerful blasts of temptation that blowed
+through them broad streets, and the small size of my pardner, and the
+light weight of his bones and principles.
+
+And I felt, if things wuz as they had been depictered to me, he would (in
+a moral sense) be lifted right up, and blowed away--bones, principles, and
+all. And I trembled.
+
+At last the idee knocked so firm aginst the door of my heart, that I had
+to let it in. That I _must_, I _must_ go to Washington, as a
+forerunner of Josiah. I must go ahead of him, and look round, and see if
+my Josiah could pass through with no smell of fire on his overcoat--if
+there wuz any possibility of it. If there wuz, why, I should stand still,
+and let things take their course. But if my worst apprehensions wuz
+realized, if I see that it was a place where my pardner would lose all the
+modest worth and winnin' qualities that first endeared him to me--why, I
+would come home, and throw all my powerful influence and weight into the
+scales, and turn 'em round.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING BLOWN AWAY.]
+
+Of course, I felt that I should have to make some pretext about goin': for
+though I wus as innocent as a babe of wantin' to do so, I felt that he
+would think he wus bein' domineered over by me. Men are so sort o' high-
+headed and haughty about some things! But I felt I could make a pretext of
+George Washington. That dear old martyr! I felt truly I would love to weep
+upon his tomb.
+
+And so I told Josiah the next mornin', for I thought I would tackle the
+subject at once. And he says,--
+
+"What do you want to weep on his tomb for, Samantha, at this late day?"
+
+Says I, "The day of love and gratitude never fades into night, Josiah
+Allen: the sun of gratitude never goes down; it shines on that tomb to-day
+jest as bright as it did in 1800."
+
+"Wall, wall! go and weep on it if you want to. But I'll bet half a cent
+that you'll cry onto the ice-house, as I've heard of other wimmen's doin'.
+Wimmen don't see into things as men do."
+
+"You needn't worry, Josiah Allen. I shall cry at the right time, and in
+the right place. And I think I had better start soon on my tower."
+
+I always was one to tackle hard jobs immejutly and to once, so's to get
+'em offen' my mind.
+
+"Wall, I'd like to know," says he, in an injured tone, what you calculate
+to do with me while you are gone?"
+
+"Why," says I, "I'll have the girl Ury is engaged to, come here and do the
+chores, and work for herself; they are goin' to be married before long:
+and I'll give her some rolls, and let her spin some yarn for herself.
+She'll be glad to come."
+
+"How long do you s'pose you'll be gone? She hain't no cook. I'd as lives
+eat rolls, as to eat her fried cakes."
+
+"Your pardner will fry up 2 pans full before she goes, Josiah; and I don't
+s'pose I'll be gone over four days."
+
+"Oh, well! then I guess I can stand it. But you had better make some
+mince-pies ahead, and other kinds of pies, and some fruit-cake, and
+cookies, and tarts, and things: it is always best to be on the safe side,
+in vittles."
+
+So it wus agreed on,--that I should fill two cubbard shelves full of
+provisions, to help him endure my absence.
+
+I wus some in hopes that he might give up the idee of bein' United-States
+senator, and I might have rest from my tower; for I dreaded, oh, how I
+dreaded, the job! But as day by day passed, he grew more and more rampant
+with the idee. He talked about it all the time daytimes; and in the night
+I could hear him murmur to himself,--
+
+"Hon. Josiah Allen!"
+
+And once I see it in his account-book, "Old Peedick debtor to two sap-
+buckets to Hon. Josiah Allen."
+
+And he talked sights, and sights, about what he wus goin' to do when he
+got to Washington, D.C.--what great things he wus goin' to do. And I would
+get wore out, and say to him,--
+
+"Wall! you will have to get there first."
+
+"Oh! you needn't worry. I can get there easy enough. I s'pose I shall have
+to work hard jest as they all do. But as I told you before, if every thing
+else fails, I have got a grand plan to fall back on--sunthin' new and
+uneek. Josiah Allen is nobody's fool, and the nation will find it out so."
+
+Then, oh, how I urged him to tell his plan to his lovin' pardner! but he
+_wouldn't tell_.
+
+But hours and hours would he spend, a tellin' me what great things he wus
+goin' to do when he got to Washington.
+
+Says he, "There is one thing about it. When I get to be United-States
+senator, uncle Nate Gowdey shall be promoted to some high and responsible
+place."
+
+"Without thinkin' whether he is fit for it or not?" says I.
+
+"Yes, mom, without thinkin' a thing about it. I am bound to help the ones
+that help me."
+
+"You wouldn't have him examined," says I,--"wouldn't have him asked no
+questions?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I'd have him pass a examination jest as the New-York aldermen
+do, or the civil-service men. I'd say to him, 'Be you uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+
+"'Yes.'
+
+"'How long have you been uncle Nate Gowdey?'
+
+"And he'd answer; and I'd say,--
+
+"'How long do you calculate to be uncle Nate?'
+
+"And he'll tell; and then I'll say,--
+
+"'Enough: I see you have all the qualifications for office. You are
+admitted.' That is what I would do."
+
+I groaned. But he kep' on complacently, "I am goin' to help the ones that
+elect me, sink or swim; and I calculate to make money out of the project,
+--money and honor. And I shall do a big work there,--there hain't no doubt
+of it.
+
+"Now, there is political economy. I shall go in strong for that. I shall
+say right to Congress, the first speech I make to it, I shall say, that
+there is too much money spent now to hire votes with; and I shall prove it
+right out, that we can get votes cheaper if we senators all join in
+together, and put our feet right down that we won't pay only jest so much
+for a vote. But as long as one man is willin' to pay high, why, everybody
+else has got to foller suit. And there hain't no economy in it, not a
+mite.
+
+"Then, there is the canal question. I'll make a thorough end of that.
+There is one reform that will be pushed right through."
+
+"How will you do it?" says I.
+
+"I will have the hull canal cleaned out from one end to the other."
+
+"I was readin' only yesterday," says I, "about the corruption of the canal
+question. But I didn't s'pose it meant that."
+
+"That is because you hain't a man. You hain't got the mind to grasp these
+big questions. The corruption of the canal means that the bottom of the
+canal is all covered with dead cats and things; and it ort to be seen to,
+by men that is capable of seein' to such things. It ort to be cleaned out.
+And I am the man that has got the mind for it," says he proudly.
+
+"Then, there is the Star Route. Nothin' but foolishness from beginnin' to
+end. They might have known they couldn't make any road through the stars.
+Why, the very Bible is agin it. The ground is good enough for me, and for
+any other solid man. It is some visionary chap that begun it in the first
+place. Nothin' but dumb foolishness; and so uncle Nate Gowdey said it was.
+We got to talkin' about it yesterday, and he said it was a pity wimmin
+couldn't vote on it. He said that would be jest about what they would be
+likely to vote for.
+
+"He is a smart old feller, uncle Nate is, for a man of his age. He talked
+awful smart about wimmin's votin'. He said any man was a fool to think
+that a woman would ever have the requisit grasp of intellect, and the
+knowledge of public affairs, that would render her a competent voter.
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH's STAR ROUTE.]
+
+"I tell you, you have got to _understand_ things in order to tackle
+politicks. Politicks takes deep study.
+
+"Now, there is the tariff question, and the revenue. I shall most probable
+favor 'em, and push 'em right through."
+
+"How?" says I.
+
+"Oh, wall! a woman most probable couldn't understand it. But I shall push
+'em forward all I can, and lift 'em up."
+
+"Where to?" says I.
+
+"Oh, keep a askin', and a naggin'! That is what wears out us public men,--
+wimmin's questionin'. It hain't so much the public duties we have to
+perform that ages us, and wears us out before our time,--it is woman's
+weak curiosity on public topics, that her mind is too feeble to grasp holt
+of. It is wearin'," says he haughtily.
+
+Says I, "Specially when they don't know what to answer." Says I, "Josiah
+Allen, you don't know this minute what tariff means, or revenue."
+
+"Wall, I know what starvation means, and I know what vittles means, and I
+know I am as hungry as a bear."
+
+Instinctively I hung on the teakettle. And as Josiah see me pare the
+potatoes, and grind the coffee, and pound the steak, he grew very pleasant
+again in his demeanor; and says he,--
+
+"There will be some abuses reformed when I get to Washington, D.C.; and
+you and the nation will see that there will. Now, there is the civil-
+service law: Uncle Nate and I wus a talkin' about it yesterday. It is jest
+what we need. Why, as uncle Nate said, hired men hain't civil at all, nor
+hired girls either. You hire 'em to serve you, and to serve you civil; and
+they are jest as dumb uppish and impudent as they can be. And hotel-
+clerks--now, they don't know what civil-service means."
+
+"Why, uncle Nate said when he went to the Ohio, last fall, he stayed over
+night to Cleveland, and the hotel-clerk sassed him, jest because he wanted
+to blow out his light: he wanted uncle Nate to turn it off.
+
+"And uncle Nate jest spoke right up, smart as a whip, and said, 'Old-
+fashioned ways was good enough for him: blows wus made before turners, and
+he should blow it out.' And the hotel-clerk sassed him, and swore, and
+threatened to make him leave.
+
+"And ruther than have a fuss, uncle Nate said he turned it out. But it
+rankled, uncle Nate says it did, it rankled deep. And he says he wants to
+vote for that special. He says he'd love to make that clerk eat humble-
+pie.
+
+"Uncle Nate is a sound man: his head is level.
+
+"And good, sound platforms, that is another reform, uncle Nate said we
+needed the worst kind, and he hoped I would insist on it when I got to be
+senator. He said there was too much talk about 'em in the papers, and too
+little done about 'em. Why, Elam Gowdey, uncle Nate's youngest boy, broke
+down the platform to his barn, and went right down through it, with a load
+of hay. And nothin' but that hay saved his neck from bein' broke. It
+spilte one of his horses.
+
+"Uncle Nate had been urgin' him to fix the platform, or build a new one;
+but he was slack. But, as uncle Nate says, if such things are run by law,
+they will _have_ to be done.
+
+"And then, there is another thing uncle Nate and I was talkin' about,"
+says he, lookin' very amiable at me as I rolled out my cream biscuit--
+almost spooney.
+
+[Illustration: UNCIVIL SERVICE.]
+
+"I shall jest run every poor Irishman and Chinaman out of the country that
+I can."
+
+"What has the Irishmen done, Josiah Allen?" says I.
+
+"Oh! they are poor. There hain't no use in our associatin' with the poor."
+
+Says I dreamily, "Did I not read once, of One who renounced the throne of
+the universe to dwell amongst the poor?"
+
+"Oh, wall! most probable they wuzn't Irish."
+
+"And what has the Chinaman done?" says I.
+
+"Why, they are heathens, Samantha. What does the United States want with
+heathens anyway? What the country _needs_ is Methodists."
+
+"Somewhere did I not once hear these words," says I musin'ly, as I set the
+coffee-cups on the table,--"'You shall have the heathen for an
+inheritance'--and 'preach the gospel to the heathen'--and 'we who were
+sometime heathens, but have received light'? Did not the echo of some such
+words once reach my mind?"
+
+"Oh, wall! if you are goin' to quote readin', why can't you quote from
+'The World'? you can't combine Bible and politics worth a cent. And the
+Chinaman works too cheap--are too industrious, and reasonable in their
+charges, they hain't extravagant--and they are too dumb peacible, dumb
+'em!"
+
+"Josiah Allen!" says I firmly, "is that all the fault you find with 'em?"
+
+"No, it hain't. They don't want to vote! They don't care a cent about
+bein' path-master or President. And I say, that after givin' a man a fair
+trial and a long one, if he won't try to buy or sell a vote, it is a sure
+sign that he can't asimulate with Americans, and be one with 'em; that he
+can't never be mingled in with 'em peacible. And I'll bet that I'll start
+the Catholics out--and the Jews. What under the sun is the use of havin'
+anybody here in America only jest Methodists? That is the only right way.
+And if I have my way, I'll get rid of 'em,--Chinamen, Irishmen,
+Catholics,--the hull caboodle of 'em. I'll jest light 'em out of the
+country. We can do it too. That big statute in New-York Harbor of Liberty
+Enlightenin' the World, will jest lift her torch up high, and light 'em
+out of the country:--that is what we had her for."
+
+I sithed low, and says, "I never knew that wus what she wus there for. I
+s'posed it wus a gift from a land that helped us to liberty and prosperity
+when we needed 'em as bad as the Irishmen and Chinamen do to-day; and I
+s'posed that torch that wus lit for us by others' help, we should be
+willin' and glad to have it shine on the dark cross-roads of others."
+
+"Wall, it hain't meant for no such purpose: it is to light up _our_
+land and _our_ waters. That's what _she's_ there for."
+
+I sithed agin, a sort of a cold sithe, and says,--
+
+"I don't think it looks very well for us New-Englanders a sittin' round
+Plymouth Rock, to be a condemnin' anybody for their religeous beliefs."
+
+"Wall, there hain't no need of whittlin' out a stick, and worshipin' it,
+as the Chinamen do."
+
+"How are you goin' to help 'em to worship the true God if you send 'em out
+of the country? Is it for the sake of humanity you drive 'em out? or be
+you, like the Isrealites of old, a worshipin' the golden calf of
+selfishness, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"I hain't never worshiped _no calf_, Samantha Allen. That would be
+the last thing _I_ would worship, and you know it."
+
+(Josiah wus very lame on his left leg where he had been kicked by a
+yearlin'. The spot wus black and blue, but healin'.)
+
+"You have blanketed that calf with thick patriotic excuses; but I fear,
+Josiah Allen, that the calf is there.
+
+"Oh!" says I dreamily, "how the tread of them calves has moved down
+through the centuries! If every calf should amble right out, marked with
+its own name and the name of its owner, what a sight, what a sight it
+would be! On one calf, right after its owner's name, would be branded,
+'Worldly Honor and Fame.'"
+
+Josiah squirmed, for I see him, but tried to turn the squirm in' into a
+sickly smile; and he murmured in a meachin' voice, and with a sheepish
+smile,--
+
+"'Hon. Josiah Allen. Fame.' That wouldn't look so bad on a likely yearlin'
+or two-year old."
+
+But I kep' right on. "On another would be marked, 'Wealth.' Very yeller
+those calves would be, and a long, long drove of 'em.
+
+"On another would be, 'Earthly Love.' Middlin' good-lookin' calves, these,
+and sights of 'em. But the mantillys that covered 'em would be all wet and
+wore with tears.
+
+"'Culture,' 'Intellect,' 'Refinement.' These calves would march right
+along by the side of 'Pride,' 'Vanity,' 'Old Creeds,' 'Bigotry,'
+'Selfishness.' The last-named would be too numerous to count with the
+naked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right through
+meetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why," says I, "the ground trembles
+under the tread of them calves. I can hear 'em whinner," says I, fillin'
+up the coffee-pot.
+
+"Calves don't whinner!" says Josiah.
+
+Says I, "I speak parabolickly;" and says I, in a very blind way, "Parables
+are used to fit the truth to weak comprehensions."
+
+"Wall!" says he, kinder cross, "your potatoes are a burnin' down."
+
+I turned the water off, and mashed 'em up, with plenty of cream and
+butter; and them, applied to his stomach internally, seemed to sooth him,
+--them, and the nice tender steak, and light biscuit, and lemon puddin' and
+coffee, rich and yellow and fragrant.
+
+[Illustration: THE GOLDEN CALVES OF CHRISTIANS.]
+
+He never said a word more about politics till after dinner. But on risin'
+up from the table he told me he had got to go to Jonesville to get the old
+mare shod. And I see sadly, as he stood to the lookin'-glass combin' out
+his few hairs, how every by-path his mind sot out on led up gradually to
+Washington, D.C. For as he stood there, and spoke of the mare's feet, he
+says,--
+
+"The mare is good enough for Jonesville, Samantha. But when we get to
+Washington, we want sunthin' gayer, more stylish, to ride on. I
+calculate," says he, pullin' up his collar, and pullin' down his vest,--"I
+lay out to dress gay, and act gay. I calculate to make a show for once in
+my life, and put on style. One thing I am bound on,--I shall drive
+tantrum."
+
+"How?" says I sternly.
+
+"Why, I shall buy another mare, most probable some gay-colored one, and
+hitch it before the old white mare, and drive tantrum. You know, it is all
+the style. Mebby," says he dreamily, "I shall ride the drag. I s'pose that
+is fashionable. But I'll be hanged if I should think it would be easy
+ridin' unless you had the teeth down. Dog-carts are stylish, I hear; but
+our dog is so dumb lazy, you couldn't get him to go out of a walk. But
+tantrum I _will_ drive."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH DRIVING TANTRUM.]
+
+I groaned, and says, "Yes, I hain't no doubt that anybody that sees you at
+Washington, will see tantrums, strange tantrums. But you hain't there
+yet."
+
+"No, but I most probable shall be ere long."
+
+He had actually begun to talk in high-flown, blank verse sort of a way.
+"Ere long!" that wus somethin' new for Josiah Allen.
+
+Alas! every thought of his heart wus tuned to that one political key. I
+mentioned to him that "the bobbin to my sewin'-machine was broke, and
+asked him to get a new one of the agent at Jonesville."
+
+"Yes," says he benignantly, "I will tend to your machine; and speakin' of
+machines, that makes me think of another thing uncle Nate and I wus
+talkin' about."
+
+"Machine politics, I sha'n't favor 'em. What under the sun do they want
+machines to make politics with, when there is plenty of men willin', and
+more than willin', to make 'em? And it is as expensive agin. Machines cost
+so much. I tell you, they cost tarnation high."
+
+"I can understand you without swearin', Josiah Allen."
+
+"I hain't a swearin': 'tarnation' hain't swearin', nor never wuz. I shall
+use that word most likely in Washington, D.C."
+
+"Wall," says I coldly, "there will have to be some tea and sugar got."
+
+He did not demur. But, oh! how I see that immovible setness of his mind!
+
+"Yes, I will get some. But won't it be handy, Samantha, to have free
+trade? I shall go for that strong. Why, I can tell you, it will come handy
+along in the winter when the hens don't lay, and we don't make butter to
+turn off--it will come dretful handy to jest hitch up the mare, and go to
+the store, and come home with a lot of groceries of all kinds, and some
+fresh meat mebby. And mebby some neckties of different colors."
+
+"Who would pay for 'em?" says I in a stern tone; for I didn't somehow like
+the idee.
+
+"Why, the Government, of course."
+
+I shook my head 2 or 3 times back and forth. I couldn't seem to get the
+right sense of it. "I can't understand it, Josiah. We heard a good deal
+about free trade, but I can't believe that is it."
+
+"Wall, it is, jest that. Free trade is one of the prerequisits of a
+senator. Why, what would a man want to be a senator for, if they couldn't
+make by it?"
+
+"Don't you love your country, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"Yes, I do: but I don't love her so well as I do myself; it hain't nateral
+I should."
+
+"Surely I read long ago,--was it in the English Reader?" says I dreamily,
+"or where was it? But surely I have heard of such things as patriotism and
+honor, love of country, and love of the right."
+
+"Wall, I calculate I love my country jest as well as the next man; and,"
+says he firmly, "I calculate I can make jest as much out of her, give me a
+chance. Why, I calculate to do jest as they all do. What is the use of
+startin' up, and bein' one by yourself?"
+
+Says I, "That is what Pilate thought, Josiah Allen." Says I, "The majority
+hain't always right." Says I firmly, "They hardly ever are."
+
+"Now, that is a regular woman's idee," says he, goin' into the bedroom for
+a clean shirt. And as he opened the bureau-draw, he says,--
+
+"Another thing I shall go for, is abolishin' lots of the bureaus. Why,
+what is the use of any man havin' more than one bureau? It is nothin' but
+nonsense clutterin' up the house with so many bureaus.
+
+"When wimmen get to votin'," says he sarcastickly, "I'll bet their first
+move will be to get 'em back agin. I'll bet there hain't a women in the
+land, but what would love to have 20 bureaus that they could run to."
+
+"Then, you think wimmen _will_ vote, do you, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"I think," says he firmly, "that it will be a wretched day for the nation
+if she does. Wimmen is good in their places," says he, as he come to me to
+button up his shirtsleeves, and tie his cravat.
+
+"They are good in their places. But they can't have, it hain't in 'em to
+have, the calm grasp of mind, the deep outlook into the future, that men
+have. They can't weigh things in the firm, careful balences of right and
+wrong, and have that deep, masterly knowledge of national affairs that we
+men have. They hain't got the hard horse sense that anybody has got to
+have in order to make money out of the nation. They would have some
+sentimental subjects up of right or wrong to spend their energies and
+their hearts on. Look at Cicely, now. She means well. But what would she
+do? What would she make out of votin'? Not a cent. And she never would
+think of passin' laws for her own personal comfort, either. Now, there is
+the subsidy bill. I'll see that through if I sweat for it.
+
+"Why, it would be worth more than a dollar-bill to me lots of times to
+make folks subside. Preachers, now, when they get to goin' beyond the
+20ethly. No preacher has any right to go to wanderin' round up beyond them
+figures in dog-days. And if they could be made to subside when they had
+gone fur enough, why, it would be a perfect boon to Jonesville and the
+nation.
+
+"And sewin'-machine agents--and--and wimmen, when they get all excited a
+scoldin', or talkin' about bonnets, and things. Why! if a man could jest
+lift up his hand, and say 'Subside!' and then see 'em subside--why, I had
+ruther see it than a circus any day."
+
+[Illustration: A WOMAN'S PLACE.]
+
+I looked at him keenly, and says I,--
+
+"I wish such a bill had even now passed; that is, if wimmen could receive
+any benefit from it."
+
+"Wall, you'll see it after I get to Washington, D.C., most probable. I
+calculate to jest straighten out things there, and get public affairs in a
+good runnin' order. The nation _needs_ me."
+
+"Wall," says I, wore out, "it can _have you_, as fur as I am
+concerned."
+
+And I wus so completely fagged out, that I turned the subject completely
+round (as I s'posed) by askin' him if he laid out to sell our apples this
+year where he did last. The man's wife had wrote to me ahead, and wanted
+to know, for they had bought a new dryin'-machine, and wanted to make sure
+of apples ahead.
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, drawin' on his overshoes, "I shall probable have to
+use the apples this fall to buy votes with."
+
+"To buy votes?" says I, in accents of horrow.
+
+"Yes. I wouldn't tell it out of the family. But you are all in the family,
+you know, and so I'll tell you. I sha'n't have to buy near so many votes
+on account of my plan; but I shall have to buy some, of course. You know,
+they all do; and I sha'n't stand no chance at all if I don't."
+
+My groans was fearful that I groaned at this; but truly, worse was to
+come. He looked kinder pitiful at me (he loves me). But yet his love did
+not soften the firm resolve that wus spread thick over his linement as he
+went on,--
+
+"I lay out to get lots of votes with my green apples," says he dreamily.
+"It seems as if I ought to get a vote for a bushel of apples; but there is
+so much iniquity and cheatin' a goin' on now in politics, that I may have
+to give a bushel and a half, or two bushels: and then, I shall make up a
+lot of the smaller ones into hard cider, and use 'em to--to advance the
+interests of myself and the nation in that way.
+
+"There is hull loads of folks uncle Nate says he can bring to vote for me,
+by the judicious use of--wall, it hain't likely you will approve of it;
+but I say, stimulants are necessary in medicine, and any doctor will tell
+you so--hard cider and beer and whiskey, and so 4th."
+
+[Illustration: OUR LAW-MAKERS.]
+
+I riz right up, and grasped holt of his arm, and says in stern, avengin'
+tones,--
+
+"Josiah Allen, will you go right against God's commands, and put the cup
+to your neighbor's lips, for your own gain? Do you expect, if you do, that
+you can escape Heaven's avengin' wrath?"
+
+"They hain't my neighbors: I never neighbored with 'em."
+
+Says I sternly, "If you commit this sin, you will be held accountable; and
+it seems to me as if you can never be forgiven."
+
+"Dumb it all, Samantha, if everybody else does so, where will I get my
+votes?"
+
+"Go without 'em, Josiah Allen; go down to poverty, or the tomb, but never
+commit this sin. 'Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his neighbor's
+lips.'"
+
+"They hain't my neighbors, and it probable hain't no cup that they will
+drink out of: they will drink out of gobblers" (sometimes when Josiah gets
+excited, he calls goblets, gobblers). But I wus too wrought up and by the
+side of myself to notice it.
+
+Says I, "To think a human bein', to say nothin' of a perfessor, would go
+to work deliberate to get a man into a state that is jest as likely as not
+to end in a murder, or any crime, for gain to himself." Says I, "Think of
+the different crimes you commit by that one act, Josiah Allen. You make a
+man a fool, and in that way put yourself down on a level with disease,
+deformity, and hereditary sin. You steal his reason away. You are a thief
+of the deepest dye; for you steal then, from the man you have stole from--
+steal the first rights of his manhood, his honor, his patriotism, his duty
+to God and man. You are a thief of the Government--thief of God, and
+right.
+
+"Then, _you_ make this man liable to commit any crime: so, if he
+murders, _you_ are a murderer; if he commits suicide, _your_
+guilty soul shall cower in the presence of Him who said, 'No self-
+murderer shall inherit eternal life.' It is your own doom you shall read
+in them dreadful words."
+
+"Good landy, Samantha! do you want to scare me to death?" and Josiah
+quailed and shook, and shook and quailed.
+
+"I am only tellin' you the truth, Josiah Allen; and I should think it
+_would_ scare anybody to death."
+
+"If I don't do it, I shall appear like a fool: I shall be one by myself."
+
+Oh, how Josiah duz want to be fashionable!
+
+"No, you won't, Josiah Allen--no, you won't. If you try to do right, try
+to do God's will, you have His armies to surround you with a unseen wall
+of Strength." "Why, I hain't seen you look so sort o' skairful and riz
+up, for years, Samantha."
+
+"I hain't felt so. To think of the brink you wuz a standin' on, and jest a
+fallin' off of."
+
+Josiah looked quite bad. And he put his hand on his side, and says, "My
+heart beats as if it wuz a tryin' to get out and walk round the room. I do
+believe I have got population of the heart."
+
+Says I, in a sarcasticker tone than I had used,--
+
+"That is a disease that is very common amongst men, very common, though
+they hain't over and above willin' to own up to it. Too much population of
+the heart has ailed many a man before now, and woman too," says I in
+reasonable axents. "But you mean palpitation."
+
+"Wall, I said so, didn't I? And it is jest your skairful talk that has
+done it."
+
+"Wall, if I thought I could convince men as I have you, I would foller the
+business stiddy, of skairin' folks, and think I wuz doin' my duty." Says
+I, my emotions a roustin' up agin,--
+
+"I should call it a good deal more honorable in you to get drunk yourself;
+and I should think more of you, if I see you a reelin' round yourself,
+than to see you make other folks reel. I should think it was your own
+reel, and you had more right to it than to anybody else's.
+
+"Oh! to think I should have lived to see the hour, to have my companion in
+danger of goin' aginst the Scripter--ready to steal, or be stole, or knock
+down, or any thing, to buy votes, or sell 'em!"
+
+"Wall, dumb it all, do you want me to appear as awkward as a fool? I have
+told you more than a dozen times I have _got_ to do as the rest do,
+if I want to make any show at all in politics."
+
+I said no more: but I riz right up, and walked out of the room, with my
+head right up in the air, and the strings of my head-dress a floatin' out
+behind me; and I'll bet there wus indignation in the float of them
+strings, and heart-ache, and agony, and--and every thing.
+
+I thought I had convinced him, and hadn't. I felt as if I must sink. You
+know, that is all a woman can do--to sink. She can't do any thing else in
+a helpful way when her beloved companion hangs over political abysses. She
+can't reach out her lovin' hand, and help stiddy him; she can't do nothin'
+only jest sink. And what made it more curious, these despairin' thoughts
+come to me as I stood by the sink, washin' my dinner-dishes. But anon (I
+know it wus jest anon, for the water wus bilein' hot when I turned it out
+of the kettle, and it scalded my hands, onbeknown to me, as I washed out
+my sass-plates) this thought gripped holt of me, right in front of the
+sink,--
+
+"Josiah Allen's wife, you must _not_ sink. You _must_ keep up.
+If you have no power to help your pardner to patriotism and honor, you
+can, if your worst fears are realized, try to keep him to home. For if his
+acts and words are like these in Jonesville, what will they be in
+Washington, D.C., if that place is all it has been depictered to you? Hold
+up, Samantha! Be firm, Josiah Allen's wife! John Rogers! The nine! One at
+the breast!"
+
+So at last, by these almost convulsive efforts at calmness, I grew more
+calmer and composeder. Josiah had hitched up and gone.
+
+And he come home clever, and all excited with a new thing.
+
+They are buildin' a new court-house at Jonesville. It is most done, and it
+seemed they got into a dispute that day about the cupelow. They wanted to
+have the figger of Liberty sculped out on it; and they had got the man
+there all ready, and he had begun to sculp her as a woman,--the goddess
+of Liberty, he called her. But at the last minute a dispute had rosen:
+some of the leadin' minds of Jonesville, uncle Nate Gowdey amongst 'em,
+insisted on it that Liberty wuzn't a woman, he wuz a man. And they wanted
+him depictered as a man, with whiskers and pantaloons and a standin'
+collar, and boots and spurs--Josiah Allen wus the one that wanted the
+spurs.
+
+He said the dispute waxed furious; and he says to 'em,--
+
+"Leave it to Samantha: she'll know all about it."
+
+And so it was agreed on that they'd leave it to me. And he drove the old
+mare home, almost beyond her strength, he wus so anxious to have it
+settled.
+
+I wus jest makin' some cream biscuit for supper as he come in, and asked
+me about it; and a minute is a minute in makin' warm biscuit. You want to
+make 'em quick, and bake 'em quick. My mind wus fairly held onto that
+dough--and needed on it; but instinctively I told him he wus in the right
+ont. Liberty here in the United States wuz a man, and, in order to be
+consistent, ort to be depictered with whiskers and overcoat and a standin'
+collar.
+
+"And spurs!" says Josiah.
+
+"Wall," I told him, "I wouldn't be particular about the spurs." I said,
+"Instead of the spurs on his boots, he might be depictered as settin' his
+boot-heel onto the respectful petition of fifty thousand wimmen, who had
+ventured to ask him for a little mite of what he wus s'posed to have
+quantities of--Freedom.
+
+"Or," says I, "he might be depictered as settin' on a judgment-seat, and
+wavin' off into prison an intelligent Christian woman, who had spent her
+whole noble, useful life in studyin' the laws of our nation, for darin' to
+think she had as much right under our Constitution, as a low, totally
+ignorant coot who would most likely think the franchise wus some sort of a
+meat-stew."
+
+Says I, "That will give Liberty jest as imperious and showy a look as
+spurs would, and be fur more historick and symbolical."
+
+Wall, he said he would mention it to 'em; and says he, with a contented
+look,--
+
+"I told uncle Nate I knew I wus right. I knew Liberty wus a man."
+
+Wall, I didn't say no more: and I got him as good a supper as the house
+afforded, and kep' still as death on politics; fur I could not help havin'
+some hopes that he might get sick of the idee of public life. And I kep'
+him down close all that evenin' to religion and the weather.
+
+[Illustration: JONESVILLE COURTHOUSE.]
+
+But, alas! my hopes wus doomed to fade away. And, as days passed by, I see
+the thought of bein' a senator wus ever before him. The cares and burdens
+of political life seemed to be a loomin' up in front of him, and in a
+quiet way he seemed to be fittin' himself for the duties of his position.
+
+He come in one day with Solomon Cypher'ses shovel, and I asked him "what
+it wuz?"
+
+And he said "it wus the spoils of office."
+
+And I says, "It is no such thing: it is Solomon Cypher'ses shovel."
+
+"Wall," says he, "I found it out by the fence. Solomon has gone over to
+the other party. I am a Democrat, and this is party spoils. I am goin' to
+keep this as one of the spoils of office."
+
+Says I firmly, "You won't keep it!"
+
+"Why," says he, "if I am goin' to enter political life, I must begin to
+practise sometime. I must begin to do as they all do. And it is a crackin'
+good shovel too," says he pensively.
+
+Says I, "You are goin' to carry that shovel right straight home, Josiah
+Allen!"
+
+And I made him.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+But I see in this and in many kindred things, that he wuz a dwellin' on
+this thought of political life--its honors and emollients. And often, and
+in dark hints, he would speak of his _Plan_. If every other means
+failed, if he couldn't spare the money to buy enough votes, how his
+_plan_ wus goin' to be the makin' of him.
+
+And I overheard him tellin' the babe once, as he wus rockin' her to sleep
+in the kitchen, "how her grandpa had got up somethin' that no other babe's
+grandpa had ever thought of, and how she would probable see him in the
+White House ere long."
+
+I wus makin' nut-cakes in the buttery; and I shuddered so at these words,
+that I got in most as much agin lemon as I wanted in 'em. I wus a droppin'
+it into a spoon, and it run over, I wus that shook at the thought of his
+plan.
+
+I had known his plans in the past, and had hefted 'em. And I truly felt
+that his plans wus liable any time to be the death of him, and the
+ruination.
+
+But he wouldn't tell!
+
+But kep' his mind immovibly sot, as I could see. And the very day of the
+shovel episode, along towards night he rousted out of a brown study,--a
+sort of a dark-brown study,--and says he,--
+
+"Yes, I shall make out enough votes if we have a judicious committee."
+
+"A lyin' one, do you mean?" says I coldly. But not surprized. For truly,
+my mind had been so strained and racked that I don't know as it would have
+surprized me if Josiah Allen had riz up, and knocked me down.
+
+"Wall, in politics, you _have_ to add a few orts sometimes."
+
+I sithed, not a wonderin' sithe, but a despairin' one; and he went on,--
+
+"I know where I shall get a hull lot of votes, anyway."
+
+"Where?" says I.
+
+"Why, out to that nigger settlement jest the other side of Jonesville."
+
+"How do you know they'll vote for you?" says I.
+
+"I'd like to see 'em vote aginst me!" says he, in a skairful way.
+
+"Would you use intimidation, Josiah Allen?"
+
+"Why, uncle Nate Gowdey and I, and a few others who love quiet, and love
+to see folks do as they ort to, lay out to take some shot-guns and
+_make_ them niggers vote right; make 'em vote for me; shoot 'em right
+down if they don't. We have got the campaign all planned out."
+
+"Josiah Allen," says I, "if you have no fear of Heaven, have you no fear
+of the Government? Do you want to be hung, and see your widow a breakin'
+her heart over your gallowses?"
+
+"Oh! I shouldn't get hung. The Government wouldn't do nothin'. The
+Government feels jest as I do,--that it would be wrong to stir up old
+bitternesses, and race differences. The bloody shirt has been washed, and
+ironed out; and it wouldn't be right to dirty it up agin. The colored race
+is now at peace; and if they will only do right, do jest as the white men
+wants 'em to, Government won't never interfere with 'em."
+
+I groaned, and couldn't help it; and he says,--
+
+"Why, hang it all, Samantha, if I make any show at all in public life, I
+have got to begin to practise sometime."
+
+"Wall," says I, "bring me in a pail of water." But as he went out after
+it, I murmured sternly to myself,--
+
+"Oh! wus there ever a forerunner more needed run?" and my soul answered,
+"Never! never!"
+
+[Illustration: MAKING THEM DO RIGHT.]
+
+So with sithes that could hardly be sithed, so big and hefty wuz they, I
+commenced to make preparations for embarkin' on my tower. And no martyr
+that ever sot down on a hot gridiron wus animated by a more warm and
+martyrous feelin' of self-sacrifice. Yes, I truly felt, that if there wus
+dangers to be faced, and daggers run through pardners, I felt I would
+ruther they would pierce my own spare-ribs than Josiah's. (I say spare-
+ribs for oritory--my ribs are not spare, fur from it.)
+
+I didn't really believe, if he run, he would run clear to Washington. And
+yet, when my mind roamed on some public men, and how fur they run, I would
+groan, and hurry up my preparations.
+
+I knew my tower must be but a short one, for sugarin'-time wus approachin'
+with rapid strides, and Samantha must be at the hellum. But I also knew,
+that with a determined mind, and a willin' heart, great things could be
+accomplished speedily; so I commenced makin' preparations, and layin' on
+plans.
+
+As become a woman of my cast-iron principles, I fixed up mostly on the
+inside of my head instead of the outside. I studied the map of the United
+States. I done several sums on the slate, to harden my mind, and help me
+grasp great facts, and meet difficulties bravely. I read Gass'es
+"Journal,"--how he rode up our great rivers on a perioger, and shot bears.
+Expectin', as I did, to see trouble, I read over agin that book that has
+been my stay in so many hard-fit battle-fields of principle,--Fox'es "Book
+of Martyrs."
+
+I studied G. Washington's picture on the parlor-wall, to get kinder
+stirred up in my mind about him, so's to realize to the full my privileges
+as I wept onto his tomb, and stood in the capital he had foundered.
+
+Thomas J. come one day while I wus musin' on George; and he says,--
+
+"What are you lookin' so close at that dear old humbug for?"
+
+Says I firmly, and keepin' the same posture, "I am studyin' the face of
+the revered and noble G. Washington. I am going shortly to weep on his
+tomb and the capital he foundered. I am studyin' his face, and Gass'es
+'Journal,' and other works," says I.
+
+"If you are going to the capital, you had better study Dante."
+
+Says I, "Danty who?"
+
+And he says, "Just plain Dante." Says he, "You had better study his
+inscription on the door of the infern"--
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly. You are on the very pint of swearin';" and I
+don't know now what he meant, and don't much care. Thomas J. is full of
+queer remarks, anyway. But deep. He had a sick spell a few weeks ago; and
+I went to see him the first thing in the mornin', after I heard of it. He
+had overworked, the doctor said, and his heart wuz a little weak. He
+looked real white; and I took holt of his hand, and says I,--
+
+"Thomas J., I am worried about you: your pulse don't beat hardly any."
+
+"No," says he. And he laughed with his eyes and his lips too. "I am glad I
+am not a newspaper this morning, mother."
+
+And I says, "Why?"
+
+And he says, "If I were a morning paper, mother, I shouldn't be a success,
+my circulation is so weak."
+
+A jokin' right there, when he couldn't lift his head. But he got over it:
+he always did have them sort of sick spells, from a little child.
+
+But a manlier, good-hearteder, level-headeder boy never lived than Thomas
+Jefferson Allen. He is _just right_, and always wuz. And though I
+wouldn't have it get out for the world, I can't help seein' it, that he
+goes fur ahead of Tirzah Ann in intellect, and nobleness of nater; and
+though I love 'em both devotedly, I _do_, and I can't help it, like
+him jest a little mite the best. But _this_ I wouldn't have get out
+for a thousand dollars. I tell it in strict confidence, and s'pose it will
+be kep' as such. Mebby I hadn't ort to tell it at all. Mebby it hain't
+quite orthodox in me to feel so. But it is truthful, anyway. And sometimes
+I get to kinder wobblin' round inside of my mind, and a wonderin' which is
+the best,--to be orthodox, or truthful,--and I sort o' settle down to
+thinkin' I will tell the truth anyway.
+
+Josiah, I think, likes Tirzah Ann the best.
+
+But I studied deep, and mused. Mused on our 4 fathers, and our 4 mothers,
+and on Liberty, and Independence, and Truth, and the Eagle. And thinkin'
+I might jest as well be to work while I was a musin', I had a dress made
+for the occasion. It wus bran new, and the color wus Bismark Brown.
+
+Josiah wanted me to have Ashes of Moses color.
+
+But I said no. With my mind in the heroic state it was then, I couldn't
+curb it down onto Ashes of Moses, or roses, or any thing else peacible. I
+felt that this color, remindin' me of two grand heroes,--Bismark, John
+Brown,--suited me to a T. There wus two wimmen who stood ready to make
+it,--Jane Bently and Martha Snyder. I chose Martha because Martha wus the
+name of the wife of Washington.
+
+It wus made with a bask.
+
+When the news got out that I wus goin' to Washington on a tower, the
+neighbors all wanted to send errents by me.
+
+Betsey Bobbet wanted me to go to the Patent Office, and get her two
+Patent-office books, for scrap-books for poetry.
+
+Uncle Jarvis Bently wanted me to go to the Agricultural Bureau, and get
+him a paper of lettis seed. And Solomon Cypher wanted me to get him a new
+kind of string-beans, if I could, and some cowcumber seeds.
+
+Uncle Nate Gowdey, who talked of paintin' his house over, wanted me to ask
+the President what kind of paint he used on the White House, and if he put
+in any sperits of turpentime. And Ardelia Rumsey, who wuz goin' to be
+married soon, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bed-quilt patterns to
+the White House, or to the senators' housen, to get the patterns for her.
+She said she wus sick of sunflowers, and blazin' stars, and such. She
+thought mebby they'd have suthin' new, spread-eagle style, or suthin' of
+that kind. She said "her feller was goin' to be connected with the
+Government, and she thought it would be appropriate."
+
+And I asked her "how?" And she said, "he was goin' to get a patent on a
+new kind of a jack-knife."
+
+I told her "if she wanted a Government quilt, and wanted it appropriate,
+she ort to have it a crazy-quilt."
+
+And she said she had jest finished a crazy-quilt, with seven thousand
+pieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitches
+of feather stitchin': she counted 'em. And then I remembered seein' it.
+There wus some talk then about wimmen's rights, and a petition wus got up
+in Jonesville for wimmen to sign; and I remember well that Ardelia
+couldn't sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn't got the
+quilt more'n half done then. It took the biggest heft of two years to do
+it. And so, of course, less important things had to be put aside till she
+got it finished.
+
+And I remember, too, that Ardelia's mother wanted to sign it; but she
+couldn't, owin' to a bed-spread she wus a makin'. She wuz a quiltin' in
+Noah's ark, and all the animals, at that time, on a Turkey-red quilt. I
+remember she wuz a quiltin' the camel that day, and couldn't be disturbed.
+So we didn't get the names. It took the old lady three years to quilt that
+quilt. And when it wuz done, it wuz a sight to behold. Though, as I said
+then, and say now, I wouldn't give much to sleep under so many animals.
+But folks went from fur and near to see it, and I enjoyed lookin' at it
+that day. And I see jest how it wuz. I see that she couldn't sign. It
+wuzn't to be expected that a woman could stop to tend to Justice or
+Freedom, or any thing else of that kind, right in the midst of a camel.
+
+Zebulin Coon wanted me to carry a new hen-coop of hisen to get it
+patented. And I thought to myself, I wonder if they'll ask me to carry a
+cow.
+
+And sure enough, Josiah wanted me to dicker, if I could, for a calf from
+Mount Vernon,--swop one of our yearlin's for it if I couldn't do no
+better.
+
+But I told him right out and out, that I couldn't go into a calf-trade
+with my mind wrought up as I knew it would be.
+
+Wall, it wuzn't more'n 2 or 3 days after I begun my preparations, that
+Dorlesky Burpy, a vegetable widow, come to see me; and the errents she
+sent by me wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest put
+together, calves, hen-coop, and all.
+
+[Illustration: THE MOTHER'S BED-QUILT.]
+
+And when she told 'em over to me, and I meditated on her reasons for
+sendin' 'em, and her need of havin' 'em done, I felt that I would do the
+errents for her if a breath was left in my body. I felt that I would bear
+them 2 errents of hern on my tower side by side with my own private, hefty
+mission for Josiah.
+
+She come for a all day's visit; and though she is a vegetable widow, and
+very humbly, I wuz middlin' glad to see her. But thinks'es I to myself as
+I carried away her things into the bedroom, "She'll want to send some
+errent by me;" and I wondered what it wouldn't be.
+
+And so it didn't surprise me any when she asked me the first thing when I
+got back "if I would lobby a little for her in Washington."
+
+And I looked agreeable to the idee; for I s'posed it wuz some new kind of
+tattin', mebby, or fancy work. And I told her "I shouldn't have much time,
+but I would try to buy her some if I could."
+
+And she said "she wanted me to lobby, myself."
+
+And then I thought mebby it wus some new kind of waltz; and I told her "I
+was too old to lobby, I hadn't lobbied a step since I was married."
+
+And then she said "she wanted me to canvass some of the senators."
+
+And I hung back, and asked her in a cautius tone "how many she wanted
+canvassed, and how much canvass it would take?"
+
+I knew I had a good many things to buy for my tower; and, though I wanted
+to obleege Dorlesky, I didn't feel like runnin' into any great expense for
+canvass.
+
+And then she broke off from that subject, and said "she wanted her rights,
+and wanted the Whiskey Ring broke up."
+
+And then she says, going back to the old subject agin, "I hear that Josiah
+Allen has political hopes: can I canvass him?"
+
+And I says, "Yes, you can for all me." But I mentioned cautiously, for I
+believe in bein' straightforward, and not holdin' out no false hopes,--I
+said "she must furnish her own canvass, for I hadn't a mite in the house."
+
+But Josiah didn't get home till after her folks come after her. So he
+wuzn't canvassed.
+
+But she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to be
+parted from 'em, and how much she used to think of her husband, and how
+her hull life wus ruined, and how the Whiskey Ring had done it,--that, and
+wimmen's helpless condition under the law. And she cried, and wept, and
+cried about her children, and her sufferin's she had suffered; and I did.
+I cried onto my apron, and couldn't help it. A new apron too. And right
+while I wus cryin' onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to carry
+them two errents of hern to the President, and to get 'em done for her if
+I possibly could.
+
+"She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed, and she wanted her rights; and she
+wanted 'em both in less than 2 weeks."
+
+I wiped my eyes off, and told her I didn't believe she could get 'em done
+in that length of time, but I would tell the President about it, and "I
+thought more'n as likely as not he would want to do right by her." And
+says I, "If he sets out to, he can haul them babys of yourn out of that
+Ring pretty sudden."
+
+And then, to kinder get her mind off of her sufferin's, I asked her how
+her sister Susan wus a gettin' along. I hadn't heard from her for years--
+she married Philemon Clapsaddle; and Dorlesky spoke out as bitter as a
+bitter walnut--a green one. And says she,--
+
+"She is in the poorhouse."
+
+"Why, Dorlesky Burpy!" says I. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean what I say. My sister, Susan Clapsaddle, is in the poorhouse."
+
+"Why, where is their property all gone?" says I. "They was well off--Susan
+had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him."
+
+"I know it," says she. "And I can tell you, Josiah Allen's wife, where
+their property is gone. It has gone down Philemon Clapsaddle's throat.
+Look down that man's throat, and you will see 150 acres of land, a good
+house and barns, 20 sheep, and 40 head of cattle."
+
+"Why-ee!" says I.
+
+"Yes, you will see 'em all down that man's throat." And says she, in still
+more bitter axents, "You will see four mules, and a span of horses, two
+buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo-robes. He has drinked 'em all
+up--and 2 horse-rakes, a cultivator, and a thrashin'-machine.
+
+"Why! Why-ee!" says I agin. "And where are the children?"
+
+"The boys have inherited their father's evil habits, and drink as bad as
+he duz; and the oldest girl has gone to the bad."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear me!" says I. And we both sot silent for a spell. And
+then, thinkin' I must say sunthin', and wantin' to strike a safe subject,
+and a good-lookin' one, I says,--
+
+"Where is your aunt Eunice'es girl? that pretty girl I see to your house
+once."
+
+"That girl is in the lunatick asylum."
+
+"Dorlesky Burpy!" says I. "Be you a tellin' the truth?" "Yes, I be, the
+livin' truth. She went to New York to buy millinary goods for her mother's
+store. It wus quite cool when she left home, and she hadn't took off her
+winter clothes: and it come on brilin' hot in the city; and in goin' about
+from store to store, the heat and the hard work overcome her, and she fell
+down in the street in a sort of a faintin'-fit, and was called drunk, and
+dragged off to a police court by a man who wus a animal in human shape.
+And he misused her in such a way, that she never got over the horror of
+what befell her--when she come to, to find herself at the mercy of a brute
+in a man's shape. She went into a melancholy madness, and wus sent to the
+asylum. Of course they couldn't have wimmen in such places to take care of
+wimmen," says she bitterly.
+
+I sithed a long and mournful sithe, and sot silent agin for quite a spell.
+But thinkin' I _must_ be sociable, I says,--
+
+"Your aunt Eunice is well, I s'pose?"
+
+"She is a moulderin' in jail," says she.
+
+"In jail? Eunice Keeler in jail?"
+
+"Yes, in jail." And Dorlesky's tone wus now like wormwood, wormwood and
+gall.
+
+"You know, she owns a big property in tenement-houses, and other
+buildings, where she lives. Of course her taxes wus awful high; and she
+didn't expect to have any voice in tellin' how that money, a part of her
+own property, that she earned herself in a store, should be used.
+
+[Illustration: MAN LIFTING UP EUNICE.]
+
+"But she had jest been taxed high for new sidewalks in front of some of
+her buildin's.
+
+"And then another man come into power in that ward, and he natrully wanted
+to make some money out of her; and he had a spite aginst her, too, so he
+ordered her to build new sidewalks. And she wouldn't tear up a good
+sidewalk to please him or anybody else, so she was put to jail for
+refusin' to comply with the law."
+
+Thinks'es I to myself, I don't believe the law would have been so hard on
+her if she hadn't been so humbly. The Burpys are a humbly lot. But I
+didn't think it out loud. And I didn't uphold the law for feelin' so, if
+it did. No: I says in pityin' tones,--for I wus truly sorry for Eunice
+Keeler,--
+
+"How did it end?"
+
+"It hain't ended," says she. "It only took place a month ago; and she has
+got her grit up, and won't pay: and no knowin' how it will end. She lays
+there a moulderin'."
+
+I myself don't believe Eunice wus "mouldy;" but that is Dorlesky's way of
+talkin',--very flowery.
+
+[Illustration: EUNICE IN JAIL.]
+
+"Wall," says I, "do you think the weather is goin' to moderate?"
+
+I truly felt that I dassent speak to her about any human bein' under the
+sun, not knowin' what turn she would give to the conversation, bein' so
+embittered. But I felt the weather wus safe, and cotton stockin's, and
+factory-cloth; and I kep' her down onto them subjects for more'n two
+hours.
+
+But, good land! I can't blame her for bein' embittered aginst men and the
+laws they have made; for, if ever a woman has been tormented, she has.
+
+It honestly seems to me as if I never see a human creeter so afflicted as
+Dorlesky Burpy has been, all her life.
+
+Why, her sufferin's date back before she wus born; and that is goin'
+pretty fur back. You see, her father and mother had had some difficulty:
+and he wus took down with billious colic voyolent four weeks before
+Dorlesky wus born; and some think it wus the hardness between 'em, and
+some think it wus the gripin' of the colic at the time he made his will;
+anyway, he willed Dorlesky away, boy or girl, whichever it wuz, to his
+brother up on the Canada line.
+
+So, when Dorlesky wus born (and born a girl, entirely onbeknown to her),
+she wus took right away from her mother, and gin to this brother. Her
+mother couldn't help herself: he had the law on his side. But it jest
+killed her. She drooped right away and died, before the baby wus a year
+old. She was a affectionate, tenderhearted woman; and her husband wus
+kinder overbearin', and stern always.
+
+But it wus this last move of hisen that killed her; for I tell you, it is
+pretty tough on a mother to have her baby, a part of her own life, took
+right out of her arms, and gin to a stranger.
+
+For this uncle of hern wus a entire stranger to Dorlesky when the will wus
+made. And almost like a stranger to her father, for he hadn't seen him
+sence he wus a boy; but he knew he hadn't any children, and s'posed he wus
+rich and respectable. But the truth wuz, he had been a runnin' down every
+way,--had lost his property and his character, wus dissipated and mean
+(onbeknown, it wus s'posed, to Dorlesky's father). But the will was made,
+and the law stood. Men are ashamed now, to think the law wus ever in voge;
+but it wuz, and is now in some of the States. The law wus in voge, and the
+poor young mother couldn't help herself. It has always been the boast of
+our American law, that it takes care of wimmen. It took care of her. It
+held her in its strong, protectin' grasp, and held her so tight, that the
+only way she could slip out of it wus to drop into the grave, which she
+did in a few months. Then it leggo.
+
+But it kep' holt of Dorlesky: it bound her tight to her uncle, while he
+run through with what little property she had; while he sunk lower and
+lower, until at last he needed the very necessaries of life; and then he
+bound her out to work, to a woman who kep' a drinkin'-den, and the lowest,
+most degraded hant of vice.
+
+Twice Dorlesky run away, bein' virtuous but humbly; but them strong,
+protectin' arms of the law that had held her mother so tight, jest reached
+out, and dragged her back agin. Upheld by them, her uncle could compel her
+to give her service wherever he wanted her to work; and he wus owin' this
+woman, and she wanted Dorlesky's work, so she had to submit.
+
+But the 3d time, she made a effort so voyalent that she got away. A good
+woman, who, bein' nothin' but a woman, couldn't do any thing towards
+onclinchin' them powerful arms that wuz protectin' her, helped her to slip
+through 'em. And Dorlesky come to Jonesville to live with a sister of that
+good woman; changed her name, so's it wouldn't be so easy to find her;
+grew up to be a nice, industrious girl. And when the woman she was took
+by, died, she left Dorlesky quite a handsome property.
+
+And finally she married Lank Rumsey, and did considerable well, it was
+s'posed. Her property, put with what little he had, made 'em a comfortable
+home; and they had two pretty little children,--a boy and a girl. But when
+the little girl was a baby, he took to drinkin', neglected his business,
+got mixed up with a whisky-ring, whipped Dorlesky--not so very hard. He
+went accordin' to law; and the law of the United States don't approve of a
+man whippin' his wife enough to endanger her life--it says it don't. He
+made every move of hisen lawful, and felt that Dorlesky hadn't ort to
+complain and feel hurt. But a good whippin' will make anybody feel hurt,
+law or no law. And then he parted with her, and got her property and her
+two little children. Why, it seemed as if every thing under the sun and
+moon, that _could_ happen to a woman, had happened to Dorlesky,
+painful things, and gaulin'.
+
+Jest before Lank parted with her, she fell on a broken sidewalk: some
+think he tripped her up, but it never was proved. But, anyway, Dorlesky
+fell, and broke her hip bone; and her husband sued the corporation, and
+got ten thousand dollars for it. Of course, the law give the money to him,
+and she never got a cent of it. But she wouldn't never have made any fuss
+over that, knowin' that the law of the United States was such. But what
+made it gaulin' to her wuz, that, while she was layin' there achin' in
+splints, he took that very money and used it to court up another woman
+with. Gin her presents, jewellry, bunnets, head-dresses, artificial
+flowers, and etcetery, out of Dorlesky's own hip-money.
+
+[Illustration: DORLESKY'S TRIALS.]
+
+And I don't know as any thing could be much more gaulin' to a woman than
+that wuz,--while she lay there, groanin' in splints, to have her husband
+take the money for her own broken bones, and dress up another woman like a
+doll with it.
+
+But the law gin it to him; and he was only availin' himself of the
+glorious liberty of our free republic, and doin' as he was a mind to.
+
+And it was s'posed that that very hip-money was what made the match. For,
+before she wus fairly out of splints, he got a divorce from her. And by
+the help of that money, and the Whisky Ring, he got her two little
+children away from her.
+
+And I wonder if there is a mother in the land, that can blame Dorlesky for
+gettin' mad, and wantin' her rights, and wantin' the Whisky Ring broke up,
+when they think it over,--how she has been fooled round with by men,
+willed away, and whipped and parted with and stole from. Why, they can't
+blame her for feelin' fairly savage about 'em--and she duz. For as she
+says to me once when we wus a talkin' it over, how every thing had
+happened to her that could happen to a woman, and how curious it wuz,--
+
+"Yes," says she, with a axent like boneset and vinegar,--"and what few
+things there are that hain't happened to me, has happened to my folks."
+
+And, sure enough, I couldn't dispute her. Trouble and wrongs and
+sufferin's seemed to be epidemic in the race of Burpy wimmen. Why, one of
+her aunts on her father's side, Patty Burpy, married for her first husband
+Eliphalet Perkins. He was a minister, rode on a circuit. And he took Patty
+on it too; and she rode round with him on it, a good deal of the time. But
+she never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still, and be kinder
+settled down at home.
+
+But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him: so
+she rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly fagged
+out.
+
+He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they had
+hard times to get along. But what property they had wuzn't taxed, so that
+helped some; and Patty would make one doller go a good ways.
+
+No, their property wasn't taxed till Eliphalet died. Then the supervisor
+taxed it the very minute the breath left his body; run his horse, so it
+was said, so's to be sure to get it onto the tax-list, and comply with the
+law.
+
+You see, Eliphalet's salary stopped when his breath did. And I s'pose
+mebby the law thought, seem' she was a havin' trouble, she might jest as
+well have a little more; so it taxed all the property it never had taxed a
+cent for before.
+
+But she had this to console her anyway,--that the law didn't forget her in
+her widowhood. No: the law is quite thoughtful of wimmen, by spells. It
+says, the law duz, that it protects wimmen. And I s'pose in some
+mysterious way, too deep for wimmen to understand, it was protectin' her
+now.
+
+Wall, she suffered along, and finally married agin. I wondered why she
+did. But she was such a quiet, home-lovin' woman, that it was s'posed she
+wanted to settle down, and be kinder still and sot. But of all the bad
+luck she had! She married on short acquaintance, and he proved to be a
+perfect wanderer. Why, he couldn't keep still. It was s'posed to be a
+mark.
+
+He moved Patty thirteen times in two years; and at last he took her into a
+cart,--a sort of a covered wagon,--and travelled right through the Eastern
+States with her. He wanted to see the country, and loved to live in the
+wagon: it was his make. And, of course, the law give him the control of
+her body; and she had to go where he moved it, or else part with him. And
+I s'pose the law thought it was guardin' and nourishin' her when it was a
+joltin' her over them praries and mountains and abysses. But it jest kep'
+her shook up the hull of the time.
+
+It wus the regular Burpy luck.
+
+[Illustration: PATTY AND HUSBAND TRAVELLING IN THE FAR WEST.]
+
+And then, another one of her aunts, Drusilla Burpy, she married a
+industrius, hard-workin' man,--one that never drinked a drop, and was
+sound on the doctrines, and give good measure to his customers: he was a
+grocer-man. And a master hand for wantin' to foller the laws of his
+country, as tight as laws could be follered. And so, knowin' that the law
+approved of "moderate correction" for wimmen, and that "a man might whip
+his wife, but not enough to endanger her life," he bein' such a master
+hand for wantin' to do every thing faithful, and do his very best for his
+customers, it was s'posed that he wanted to do his best for the law; and
+so, when he got to whippin' Drusilla, he would whip her _too_ severe
+--he would be _too_ faithful to it.
+
+You see, the way ont was, what made him whip her at all wuz, she was cross
+to him. They had nine little children. She always thought that two or
+three children would be about all one woman could bring up well "by hand,"
+when that one hand wuz so awful full of work, as will be told more
+ensuin'ly. But he felt that big families wuz a protection to the
+Government; and "he wanted fourteen boys," he said, so they could all
+foller their father's footsteps, and be noble, law-making, law-abiding
+citizens, jest as he was.
+
+But she had to do every mite of the housework, and milk cows, and make
+butter and cheese, and cook and wash and scour, and take all the care of
+the children, day and night, in sickness and in health, and spin and weave
+the cloth for their clothes (as wimmen did in them days), and then make
+'em, and keep 'em clean. And when there wuz so many of 'em, and only about
+a year's difference in their ages, some of 'em--why, I s'pose she
+sometimes thought more of her own achin' back than she did of the good of
+the Government; and she would get kinder discouraged sometimes, and be
+cross to him.
+
+And knowin' his own motives was so high and loyal, he felt that he ought
+to whip her. So he did.
+
+And what shows that Drusilla wuzn't so bad as he s'posed she wuz, what
+shows that she did have her good streaks, and a deep reverence for the
+law, is, that she stood his whippin's first-rate, and never whipped him.
+
+Now, she wuz fur bigger than he wuz, weighed 80 pounds the most, and might
+have whipped him if the law had been such.
+
+[Illustration: BEATING HIS WIFE.]
+
+But they was both law-abidin', and wanted to keep every preamble; so she
+stood it to be whipped, and never once whipped him in all the seventeen
+years they lived together.
+
+She died when her twelfth child was born: there wus jest 13 months
+difference in the age of that and the one next older. And they said she
+often spoke out in her last sickness, and said,--
+
+"Thank fortune, I have always kept the law."
+
+And they said the same thought wus a great comfort to him in his last
+moments.
+
+He died about a year after she did, leaving his 2nd wife with twins and a
+good property.
+
+Then, there was Abagail Burpy. She married a sort of a high-headed man,
+though one that paid his debts, and was truthful, and considerable good-
+lookin', and played well on the fiddle. Why, it seemed as if he had almost
+every qualification for makin' a woman happy, only he had jest this one
+little excentricity,--that man would lock up Abagail Burpy's clothes every
+time he got mad at her.
+
+Of course the law give her clothes to him; and knowin' it was one of the
+laws of the United States, she wouldn't have complained only when she had
+company. But it was mortifyin', and nobody could dispute it, to have
+company come, and nothin' to put on.
+
+Several times she had to withdraw into the wood-house, and stay most of
+the day, shiverin', and under the cellar-stairs, and round in clothes-
+presses.
+
+But he boasted in prayer-meetin's, and on boxes before grocery-stores,
+that he wus a law-abidin' citizen; and he wuz. Eben Flanders wouldn't lie
+for anybody.
+
+But I'll bet that Abagail Flanders beat our old Revolutionary 4 mothers in
+thinkin' out new laws, when she lay round under stairs, and behind
+barrells, in her nightdress.
+
+You see, when a man hides his wive's corset and petticoat, it is governin'
+without the "consent of the governed." And if you don't believe it, you
+ort to have peeked round them barrells, and seen Abagail's eyes. Why, they
+had hull reams of by-laws in 'em, and preambles, and "declarations of
+independence." So I have been told.
+
+Why, it beat every thing I ever heard on, the lawful sufferin's of them
+wimmen. For there wuzn't nothin' illegal about one single trouble of
+theirn. They suffered accordin' to law, every one of 'em. But it wus tuff
+for 'em--very tuff.
+
+And their all bein' so dretful humbly wuz and is another drawback to 'em;
+though that, too, is perfectly lawful, as everybody knows.
+
+And Dorlesky looks as bad agin as she would otherways, on account of her
+teeth.
+
+It wus after Lank had begun to kinder get after this other woman, and wus
+indifferent to his wive's looks, that Dorlesky had a new set of teeth on
+her upper jaw. And they sort o' sot out, and made her look so bad that it
+fairly made her ache to look at herself in the glass. And they hurt her
+gooms too. And she carried 'em back to the dentist, and wanted him to make
+her another set.
+
+But the dentist acted mean, and wouldn't take 'em back, and sued Lank for
+the pay. And they had a lawsuit. And the law bein' such that a woman can't
+testify in court in any matter that is of mutual interest to husband and
+wife--and Lank wantin' to act mean, too, testified that "they wus good
+sound teeth."
+
+And there Dorlesky sot right in front of 'em with her gooms achin', and
+her face all pokin' out, and lookin' like furyation, and couldn't say a
+word. But she had to give in to the law.
+
+And ruther than go toothless, she wears 'em to this day. And I do believe
+it is the raspin' of them teeth aginst her gooms, and her discouraged and
+mad feelin's every time she looks in a glass, that helps to embitter her
+towards men, and the laws men have made, so's a woman can't have the
+control over her own teeth and her own bones.
+
+Wall, Dorlesky went home about 4 P.M., I a promisin' at the last minute as
+sacred as I could, without usin' a book, to do her errents for her.
+
+I urged her to stay to supper, but she couldn't; for she said the man
+where she worked was usin' his horses, and couldn't come after her agin.
+And she said that--
+
+"Mercy on her! how could anybody eat any more supper after such a dinner
+as I had got?"
+
+And it wuzn't nothin' extra, I didn't think. No better than my common run
+of dinners.
+
+Wall, she hadn't been gone over an hour (she a hollerin' from the wagon, a
+chargin' on me solemn, about the errents,--the man she works for is deef,
+deef as a post,--and I a noddin' to her firm, honorable nods, that I would
+do 'em), and I wus a slickin' up the settin'-room, and Martha, who had
+jest come in, wus measurin' off my skirt-breadths, when Josiah Allen drove
+up, and Cicely and the boy with him.
+
+And there I had been a layin' out to write to her that very night to tell
+her I wus goin' away, and to be sure and come jest as quick as I got back!
+
+Wall, I never see the time I wuzn't glad to see Cicely, and I felt that
+she could visit to Tirzah Ann's and Thomas J.'s while I wus gone. She
+looked dretful pale and sad, I thought; but she seemed glad to see me, and
+glad to get back. And the boy asked Josiah and Ury and me 47 questions
+between the wagon and the front doorstep, for I counted 'em. He wus well.
+
+I broached the subject of my tower to Cicely when she and I wus all alone
+in her room. And, if you'll believe it, she all rousted up with the idee
+of wantin' to go too.
+
+She says, "You know, aunt Samantha, just how I have prayed and labored for
+my boy's future; how I have made all the efforts that it is possible for a
+woman to make; how I have thrown my heart and life into the work,--but I
+have done no good. That letter," says she, takin' one out of her pocket,
+and throwin' it into my lap,--"that letter tells me just what I knew so
+well before,--just how weak a woman is; that they have no power, only the
+power to suffer."
+
+It wus from that old executor, refusin' to comply with some request she
+had made about her own property,--a request of right and truth.
+
+Oh, how glad I would have been to had him execkuted that very minute! Why,
+I'd done it myself if wimmen could execkit--but they can't.
+
+Says she, "I'll go with you to Washington,--I and the boy. Perhaps I can
+do something for him there." But when she mentioned the boy, I demurred in
+my own mind, and kep' a demurrin'. Thinks'es I, how can I stand it, as
+tired as I expect to be, to have him a askin' questions all the hull time?
+She see I was a demurrin'; and her pretty face grew sadder than it had,
+and overcasteder.
+
+And as I see that, I gin in at once, and says with a cheerful face, but a
+forebodin' mind,--
+
+"Wall, Cicely, we three will embark together on our tower."
+
+Wall, after supper Cicely and I sot down under the front stoop,--it was a
+warm evenin',--and we talked some about other wimmen. Not runnin' talk, or
+gossipin' talk, but jest plain talk, about her aunt Mary, and her aunt
+Melissa, and her aunt Mary's daughter, who wus a runnin' down, runnin'
+faster than ever, so I judged from what she said. And how Susan Ann
+Grimshaw that was, had a young babe. She said her aunt Mary was better
+now, so she had started for the Michigan; but she had had a dretful sick
+spell while she was there.
+
+While she wuz a tellin' me this, Cicely sot on one of the steps of the
+stoop: I sot up under it in my rockin'-chair. And she looked dretful good
+to me. She had on a white dress. She most always wears white in the house,
+when we hain't got company; and always wears black when she is dressed up,
+and when she goes out.
+
+This dress was made of white mull. The yoke wus made all of thin
+embroidery, and her white neck and shoulders shone through it like snow.
+Her sleeves was all trimmed with lace, and fell back from her pretty white
+arms. Her hands wus clasped over her knees; and her hair, which the boy
+had got loose a playin' with her, wus fallin' round her face and neck. And
+her great, earnest eyes wus lookin' into the West, and the light from the
+sunset fallin' through the mornin'-glorys wus a fallin' over her, till I
+declare, I never see any thing look so pretty in my hull life. And there
+was some thin' more, fur more than prettiness in her face, in her big
+eyes.
+
+It wuzn't unhappiness, and it wuzn't happiness, and I don't know as I can
+tell what it wuz. It seemed as if she wuz a lookin' fur, fur away, further
+than Jonesville, further than the lake that lay beyend Jonesville, and
+which was pure gold now,--a sea of glass mingled with fire,--further than
+the cloudy masses in the western heavens, which looked like a city of
+shinin' mansions, fur off; but her eyes was lookin' away off, beyend them.
+
+And I kep' still, and didn't feel like talkin' about other wimmen.
+
+Finally she spoke out. "Aunt Samantha, what do you suppose I thought when
+dear aunt Mary was so ill when I was there?"
+
+And I says, "I don't know, dear: what did you?"
+
+"Well, I thought, that, though I loved her so dearly, I almost wished she
+would die while I was there."
+
+"Why, Cicely!" says I. "Why-ee! what did you wish that for? and thinkin'
+so much of your aunt as you do."
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING BEYEND THE SUNSET.]
+
+"Well, you know how mother and aunt Mary loved each other, how near they
+were to each other. Why, mother could always tell when aunt Mary was ill
+or in trouble, and she was just the same in regard to mother. And I can't
+think that when death has freed the soul from the flesh, that they will
+have less spiritual knowledge of each other than when they were here; and
+I felt, that with such a love as theirs, death would only make their souls
+nearer: and you know what the Bible says,--that 'God shall make of his
+angels ministering spirits;' and I _know_ He would send no other
+angel but my mother, to dear aunt Mary's bedside, to take her spirit home.
+And I thought, that, if I were there, my mother would be there right in
+the room with me; and I didn't know but I might _feel_ her presence
+if I could not see her. And I _do_ want my mother so sometimes, aunt
+Samantha," says she with the tears comin' into them soft brown eyes. "It
+seems as if she would tell me what to do for the boy--she always knew what
+was right and best to do."
+
+Says I to myself, "For the land's sake, what won't Cicely think on next?"
+But I didn't say a word, mind you, not a single word would I say to hurt
+that child's feelin's--not for a silver dollar, I wouldn't.
+
+I only says, in calm accents,--
+
+"Don't for mercy's sake, child, talk of seein' your mother now."
+
+She looked far off into the shinin' western heavens with that deep,
+searchin', but soft gaze,--seemin' to look clear through them cloudy
+mansions of rose and pearl,--and says she,--
+
+"If I were good enough, I think I could."
+
+And I says, "Cicely, you are goin' to take cold, with nothin' round your
+shoulders." Says I, "The weather is very ketchin', and it looks to me as
+if we wus goin' to have quite a spell of it."
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 75 questions about ketchin' the
+weather.
+
+"If the weather set a trap? If it ketched with bait, or with a hook, and
+what it ketched? and how? and who?"
+
+Oh my stars! what a time I did have!
+
+The next mornin' after this Cicely wuzn't well enough to get up. I carried
+up her breakfast with my own hands,--a good one, though I am fur from
+bein' the one that ort to say it.
+
+And after breakfast, along in the forenoon, Martha, who was makin' my
+dress, felt troubled in mind as to whether she had better cut the polenay
+kitrin' ways of the cloth, or not: and Miss Gowdey had jest had one made
+in the height of the fashion, to Jonesville; and so to ease Martha's mind
+(she is one that gets deprested easy, when weighty subjects are pressin'
+her down), I said I would run over cross-lots, and carry home a drawin' of
+tea I had borrowed, and look at the polenay, and bring back tidin's from
+it. And I wus goin' there acrost the orchard, when I see the boy a layin'
+on his back under a apple-tree, lookin' up into the sky; and says I,--
+
+"What be you doin' here, Paul?"
+
+He never got up, nor moved a mite. That is one of the peculiarities of the
+boy, you can't surprise him: nothin' seems to startle him.
+
+He lay still, and spoke out for all the world as if I had been there with
+him all day.
+
+"I am lookin' to see if I can see it. I thought I got a glimpse of it a
+minute ago, but it wus only a white cloud."
+
+"Lookin' for what?" says I.
+
+"The gate of that City that comes down out of the heavens. You know, uncle
+Josiah read about it this morning, out of that big book he prays out of
+after breakfast. He said the gate was one pearl.
+
+"And I asked mamma what a pearl was, and she said it was just like that
+ring she wears that papa gave her. And I asked her where the City was, and
+she said it was up in the heavens. And I asked her if I should ever see
+it; and she said, if I was good, it would swing down out of the sky,
+sometime, and that shining gate would open, and I should walk through it
+into the City.
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING FOR THE CITY.]
+
+"And I went right to being good, that minute; and I have been good for as
+many as three hours, I should think. And _say_, how long have you got
+to be good before you can go through? And _say_, can you see it
+before you go through? And SAY"--
+
+But I had got most out of hearin' then.
+
+"And _say_"--
+
+I heard his last "say" just as I got out of hearin' of him.
+
+He acted kinder disappointed at dinner-time, and said "he wus tired of
+watchin', and tired out of bein' good;" and he wus considerable cross all
+that afternoon. But he got clever agin before bedtime. And he come and
+leaned up aginst my lap at sundown, and asked me, I guess, about 200
+questions about the City.
+
+And his eyes looked big and dreamy and soft, and his cheeks looked rosy,
+and his mouth awful good and sweet. And his curls wus kinder moist, and
+hung down over his white forehead. I _did_ love him, and couldn't
+help it, chin or no chin.
+
+He had been still for quite a spell, a thinkin'; and at last he broke
+out,--
+
+"Say, auntie, shall I see my father there in the City?"
+
+And I didn't know what to tell him; for you know what it says,--
+
+"_Without_ are murderers."
+
+[Illustration: ASKING ABOUT THE CITY.]
+
+But then, agin, I thought, what will become of the respectable church
+members who sell the fire that flames up in a man's soul, and ruins his
+life? What will become of them who lend their votes and their influence to
+make it right? They vote on Saturdays, to make the sale of this poison
+legal, and on Sundays go to church with their respectable families. And
+they expect to go right to heaven, of course; for they have improved all
+the means of grace. Hired costly pews, and give big charities--in money
+obtained by sellin' robberies, murders, broken hearts, ruined lives.
+
+But the boy wanted an answer; and his eyes looked questioning but soft.
+
+"Say, auntie, do you think we'll find him there, mamma and I? You know,
+that is what mamma cries so for,--she wants him so bad. And do you think
+he will stand just inside the gate, waiting for us? _Say!_"
+
+But agin I thought of what it said,--
+
+"No drunkard shall inherit eternal life."
+
+And agin I didn't know what to say, and I hurried him off to bed.
+
+But, after he had gone, I spoke out entirely unbeknown to myself, and
+says,--
+
+"I can't see through it."
+
+"You can't see through what?" says Josiah, who wus jest a comin' in.
+
+"I can't see through it, why drunkards and murderers are punished, and
+them that make 'em drink and murder go free. I can't see through it."
+
+"Wall, I don't see how you can see through any thing here--dark as pitch."
+Here he fell over a stool, which made him madder.
+
+"Folks make fools of themselves, a follerin' up that subject." Here he
+stubbed his foot aginst the rockin'-chair, and most fell, and snapped out
+enough to take my head off,--
+
+"The dumb fools will get so before long, that a man can't drink milk
+porridge without their prayin' over him."
+
+Says I, "Be calm! stand right still in the middle of the floor, Josiah
+Allen, and I'll light a lamp," which I did; and he sot down cleverer,
+though he says,--
+
+"You want to take away all the rights of a man. Liquor is good for
+sickness, and you know it. You go onto extremes, you go too fur."
+
+Says I calmly, "Do you s'pose, at this late hour, I am goin' to stop bein'
+mejum? No! mejum have I lived, and mejum will I die. I believe liquor is
+good for medicine: if I should say I didn't, I should be a lyin', which I
+am fur from wantin' to do at my age. I think it kep' mother Allen alive
+for years, jest as I believe arsenic broke up Bildad Smith's chills. And I
+s'pose folks have jest as good a right to use it for the benefit of their
+health, as to use any other pizen, or fire, or any thing.
+
+"And it should be used jest like pizen and fire and etcetery. You don't
+want to eat pizen for a treat, or pass it round amongst your friends. You
+don't want to play with fire for fun, or burn yourself up with it. You
+don't want to use it to confligrate yourself or anybody else.
+
+"So with liquor. You don't want to drink liquor to kill yourself with, or
+to kill other folks. You don't want to inebriate with it. If I had my way,
+Josiah Allen," says I firmly, "the hull liquor-trade should be in the
+hands of doctors, who wouldn't sell a drop without knowin' _positive_
+that it wus _needed_ for sickness, or the aged and infirm. Good,
+honest doctors who couldn't be bought nor sold."
+
+"Where would you find 'em?" says Josiah in a gruff tone (I mistrust his
+toe pained him).
+
+Says I thoughtfully, "Surely there is one good, reliable man left in every
+town--that could be found."
+
+"I don't know about it," says he, sort o' musin'ly. "I am gettin' pretty
+old to begin it, but I don't know but I might get to be a doctor now."
+
+Says he, brightenin' up, "It can't take much study to deal out a dose of
+salts now and then, or count anybody's pult."
+
+But says I firmly, "Give up that idee at once, Josiah Allen. I have come
+out alive, out of all your other plans and progects, and I hain't a goin'
+to be killed now at my age, by you as a doctor."
+
+My tone wus so powerful, and even skairful, that he gin up the idee, and
+wound up the clock, and went to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Cicely wus some better the next day. And two days before we sot sail for
+Washington, Philury Mesick, the girl Ury was payin' attention to, and who
+was goin' to keep my house durin' my absence on my tower, come with a
+small, a very small trunk, ornimented with brass nails.
+
+Poor little thing! I wus always sorry for her, she is so little, and so
+freckled, and so awful willin' to do jest as anybody wants her to. She is
+a girl that Miss Solomon Gowdey kinder took. And I think, if there is any
+condition that is hard, it is to be "kinder took." Why, if I was took at
+all, I should want to be "_took_."
+
+But Miss Gowdey took Philury jest enough not to pay her any regular wages,
+and didn't take her enough so Philury could collect any pay from her when
+she left. She left, because there wus a hardness between 'em, on account
+of a grindstun. Philury said Miss Gowdey's little boy broke the grindstun,
+and the boy laid it to Philury. Anyway, the grindstun wus broke, and it
+made a hardness. And when Philury left Miss Gowdey's, all her worldly
+wealth wuz held in that poor, pitiful lookin' trunk. Why, the trunk looked
+like Philury, and Philury looked like the trunk. It looked small, and
+meek, and well disposed; and the brass nails looked some like frecks, only
+larger.
+
+Wall, I felt sorry for her: and I s'posed, that, married or single, she
+would have to wear stockin's; so I told her, that, besides her wages, she
+might have all the lamb's-wool yarn she wanted to spin while I was gone,
+after doin' the house-work.
+
+She wus tickled enough as I told her.
+
+"Why," says she, "I can spin enough to last me for years and years."
+
+"Wall," says I, "so much the better. I have mistrusted," says I, "that
+Miss Gowdey wouldn't do much for you on account of that hardness about the
+grindstun; and knowin' that you hain't got no mother, I have laid out to
+do middlin' well by you and Ury when you get married."
+
+And she blushed, and said "she expected to marry Ury sometime--years and
+years hence."
+
+"Wall," says I, "you can spin the yarn anyway."
+
+Philury is a real handy little thing about the house. And so willin' and
+clever, that I guess, if I had asked her to jump into the oven, and bake
+herself, she would have done it. And so I told Josiah.
+
+[Illustration: PHILURY.]
+
+And he said "he thought a little more bakin' wouldn't hurt her." Says he,
+"She is pretty soft."
+
+And says I, "Soft or not, she's good. And that is more than I can say for
+some folks, who _think_ they know a little more."
+
+I will stand up for my sect.
+
+Wall, in three days' time we sot sail for Washington, D.C., I a feelin'
+well about Josiah. For Philury and Ury wus clever, and would do well by
+him. And the cubbard wus full and overflowin' with every thing good to
+eat. And I felt that I had indeed, in that cubbard, left him a consoler.
+
+Josiah took us to the train about an hour and a half too early. But I wus
+glad we wus on time, because it would have worked Josiah up dretfully if
+we hadn't been. For he had spent the most of the latter part of the night
+in gettin' up and walkin' out to the clock to see if it wus approachin'
+train time: the train left at a quarter to ten.
+
+I wus glad on his account, and also on my own; for at the last minute, as
+you may say, who should come a runnin' down to the depot but Sam
+Shelmadine, a wantin' to send a errent by me to Washington.
+
+He kinder wunk me out to one side of the waitin'-room, and asked me "if I
+would try to get him a license to steal horses."
+
+It kinder runs in the blood of the Shelmadines to love to steal, and he
+owned up that it did. But he wuzn't goin' into it for that, he said: he
+wanted the profit of it.
+
+But I told him "I wouldn't do any such thing;" and I looked at him in such
+a witherin' way, that I should most probable have withered him, only he is
+blind with one eye, and I was on the blind side.
+
+But he argued with me, and said it was no worse than to give licenses for
+other kinds of meanness.
+
+He said they give licenses now to steal--steal folks'es senses away, and
+then they would steal every thing else, and murder, and tear round into
+every kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things done
+fair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He was goin' West, and he
+thought he could do a good business, and lay up something. If he had a
+license, he shouldn't be afraid of bein' shot up, or shot.
+
+But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wus refusin', the cars
+snorted, and I wus glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild
+snort something of the indignation I felt.
+
+The _idee_.
+
+When Cicely and the boy and I got to Washington, the shades of twilight
+was a shadin the earth gently; and we got a man to take us to Condelick
+Smith'ses.
+
+The man was in a hack, as Cicely called it (and he had a hackin' cough,
+too, which made it seem more singular). We told him to take us right to
+Miss Condelick Smith'ses. Condelick is my own cousin on my own side, and
+travelin' on the road for groceries.
+
+She keeps a nice, quiet boardin'-house. Only a few boarders, "with the
+comforts of a home, and congenial society," as she wrote to me when she
+heard I wus a comin' to Washington. She said we had _got_ to go to
+her house; so we went, with the distinct knowledge in our minds and
+pocket-books, of payin' for our 3 boards.
+
+She was very tickled to see us, and embraced us almost warmly. She had
+been over a hot fire a cookin'. She is humbly, but likely, I have been
+told and believe.
+
+She has got a wen on her cheek, but that don't hurt her any. Wens hain't
+nothin' that detract from a person's moral worth.
+
+There is only one child in the family,--Condelick, Jr., aged 13. A good,
+fat boy, with white hair and blue eyes, and a great capacity for blushin',
+but seemed to be good dispositioned.
+
+It wus late supper time; and we had only time to go up into our rooms, and
+bathe our weary faces and hands, when we had to go down to supper.
+
+Miss Condelick Smith called it dinner: she misspoke herself. Havin' so
+much on her hands, it is no wonder that she should make a slip once in a
+while. I should, myself, if my mind wuzn't like iron for strength. There
+wus only three or four to the table besides us: it wuz later than their
+usial supper time. There wus a young couple there who had jest been
+married, and come there to live.
+
+Ever sense we left home we had seen sights and sights of brides and
+groomses. It seemed to be a good time of year for 'em; and Cicely and I
+would pass the time by guessin', from their demeaners, how long they had
+been married. You know they act very soft the first day or two, and then
+harden gradually, as time passes, till sometimes they get very hard.
+
+Wall, as I looked at this young pair, I whispered to Cicely,--
+
+"2 days."
+
+They acted well. Though I see with pain that the bride was tryin' to
+foller after the groom blindly, and I see she was a layin' up trouble for
+herself. Amongst other good things, they had a baked chicken for supper;
+and when the young husband wus asked what part of the fowl he would take,
+he said,--
+
+"It was immaterial!"
+
+And then, when they asked the bride, she blushed sweetly, and said,--
+
+"She would take a piece of the immaterial too."
+
+And she bein' next to me, I said to her in a low tone, but firm and
+motherly,--
+
+"You are a beginner in married life; and I say to you, as one who has had
+stiddy practice for 20 years, begin right. Let your affections be firm as
+adamant, cling closely to Duty's apron-strings, but do not too blindly
+copy after your groom. Try to stand up on your own feet, and be a helpmate
+to him, not a dead weight for him to carry. Do branch right out, and tell
+what part of the fowl, or of life, you want, if it hain't nothin' but the
+gizzard or neck; and then try to get it. If you don't have any self-
+reliance, if you don't try to help yourself any, it is highly probable to
+me, that you won't get any thing more out of the fowl, or of life, than a
+piece of 'the immaterial.'"
+
+She blushed, and said she would. And so Duty bein' appeased, and attended
+to, I calmly pursued my own meal.
+
+The next morning Cicely was so beat out that she couldn't get up at all.
+She wuzn't sick, only jest tired out. And so the boy and I sot out alone.
+
+I told Cicely I would do my errents the first thing, so as to leave my
+mind and my conscience clear for the rest of my stay.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA ADVISING THE BRIDE.]
+
+And I knew there wuz a good many who would feel hurt, deeply hurt, if I
+didn't notice 'em right off the first thing. The President, and lots of
+'em, I knew would take it right to heart, and feel dretfully worked up and
+slighted, if I didn't call on 'em.
+
+And then, I had to carry Dorlesky's errent to the President anyway. And I
+thought I would tend to it right away, so I sot out in good season.
+
+When you are a noticin' anybody, and makin' 'em perfectly happy, you feel
+well yourself. I was in good spirits, and quite a number of 'em. The boy
+wus feelin' well too. He had a little black velvet suit and a deep lace
+collar, and his gold curls was a hangin' down under his little black
+velvet cap. They made him look more babyish; but I believe Cicely kept 'em
+so to make him look young, she felt so dubersome about his future. But he
+looked sweet enough to kiss right there in the street.
+
+I, too, looked well, very. I had on that new dress, Bismark brown, the
+color remindin' me of 2 noble patriots. And made by a Martha. I thought of
+that proudly, as I looked at George's benign face on the top of the
+monument, and wondered what he'd say if he see it, and hefted my emotions
+I had when causin' it to be made for my tower. I realized as I meandered
+along, that patriotism wus enwrappin' me from head to foot; for my polynay
+was long, and my head was completely full of Gass'es "Journal," and
+Starks'es "Life of Washington," and a few martyrs.
+
+I wus carryin' Dorlesky's errents.
+
+On the outside of my head I had a good honorable shirred silk bunnet, the
+color of my dress, a good solid brown (that same color, B. B.). And my
+usial long green veil, with a lute-string ribbon run in, hung down on one
+side of my bunnet in its wonted way.
+
+It hung gracefully, and yet it seemed to me there wus both dignity and
+principle in its hang. It give me a sort of a dressy look, but none too
+dressy.
+
+And so we wended our way down the broad, beautiful streets towards the
+White House.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND PAUL ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE.]
+
+Handsomer streets I never see. I had thought Jonesville streets wus
+middlin' handsome and roomy. Why, two double wagons can go by each other
+with perfect safety, right in front of the grocery stores, where there is
+lots of boxes too; and wimmen can be a walkin' there too at the same time,
+hefty ones.
+
+But, good land! Loads of hay could pass each other here, and droves of
+dromedaries, and camels, and not touch each other, and then there would be
+lots of room for men and wimmen, and for wagons to rumble, and perioguers
+to float up and down,--if perioguers could sail on dry land.
+
+Roomier, handsomer, well shadeder streets I never want to see, nor don't
+expect to. Why, Jonesville streets are like tape compared with 'em; and
+Loontown and Toad Holler, they are like thread, No. 50 (allegory).
+
+Bub Smith wus well acquainted with the President's hired man, so he let us
+in without parlay.
+
+I don't believe in talkin big as a general thing. But thinks'es I, Here I
+be, a holdin' up the dignity of Jonesville: and here I be, on a deep,
+heart-searchin' errent to the Nation. So I said, in words and axents a
+good deal like them I have read of in "Children of the Abbey," and
+"Charlotte Temple,"--
+
+"Is the President of the United States within?"
+
+He said he was, but said sunthin' about his not receiving calls in the
+mornings.
+
+But I says in a very polite way,--for I like to put folks at their ease,
+presidents or peddlers or any thing,--
+
+"It hain't no matter at all if he hain't dressed up--of course he wuzn't
+expectin' company. Josiah don't dress up mornin's."
+
+And then he says something about "he didn't know but he was engaged."
+
+Says I, "That hain't no news to me, nor the Nation. We have been a hearin'
+that for three years, right along. And if he is engaged, it hain't no good
+reason why he shouldn't speak to other wimmen,--good, honorable married
+ones too."
+
+"Well," says he finally, "I will take up your card."
+
+"No, you won't!" says I firmly. "I am a Methodist! I guess I can start off
+on a short tower, without takin' a pack of cards with me. And if I had 'em
+right here in my pocket, or a set of dominoes, I shouldn't expect to take
+up the time of the President of the United States a playin' games at this
+time of the day." Says I in deep tones, "I am a carrien' errents to the
+President that the world knows not of."
+
+He blushed up red; he was ashamed; and he said "he would see if I could be
+admitted."
+
+And he led the way along, and I follered, and the boy. Bub Smith had left
+us at the door.
+
+The hired man seemed to think I would want to look round some; and he
+walked sort o' slow, out of courtesy. But, good land! how little that
+hired man knew my feelin's, as he led me on, I a thinkin' to myself,--
+
+"Here I am, a steppin' where G. Washington strode." Oh the grandeur of my
+feelin's! The nobility of 'em! and the quantity! Why, it was a perfect
+sight.
+
+But right into these exalted sentiments the hired man intruded with his
+frivolous remarks,--worse than frivolous.
+
+He says agin something about "not knowin' whether the President would be
+ready to receive me."
+
+And I stepped down sudden from that lofty piller I had trod on in my mind,
+and says I,--
+
+"I tell you agin, I don't care whether he is dressed up or not. I come on
+principle, and I shall look at him through that eye, and no other."
+
+"Wall," says he, turnin' sort o' red agin (he was ashamed), "have you
+noticed the beauty of the didos?"
+
+But I kep' my head right up in the air nobly, and never turned to the
+right or the left; and says I,--
+
+"I don't see no beauty in cuttin' up didos, nor never did. I have heard
+that they did such things here in Washington, D.C., but I do not choose to
+have my attention drawed to 'em."
+
+But I pondered a minute, and the word "meetin'-house" struck a fearful
+blow aginst my conscience;' and I says in milder axents,--
+
+"If I looked upon a dido at all, it would be, not with a human woman's
+eye, but the eye of a Methodist. My duty draws me:--point out the dido,
+and I will look at it through that one eye."
+
+And he says, "I was a talkin' about the walls of this room."
+
+And I says, "Why couldn't you say so in the first place? The idee of
+skairin' folks! or tryin' to," I added; for I hain't easily skairt.
+
+The walls wus perfectly beautiful, and so wus the ceilin' and floors.
+There wuzn't a house in Jonesville that could compare with it, though we
+had painted our meetin-house over at a cost of upwards of 28 dollars. But
+it didn't come up to this--not half. President Arthur has got good taste;
+and I thought to myself, and I says to the hired man, as I looked round
+and see the soft richness and quiet beauty and grandeur of the
+surroundings,--
+
+"I had just as lives have him pick me out a calico dress as to pick it out
+myself. And that is sayin' a great deal," says I. "I am always very
+putickuler in calico: richness and beauty is what I look out for, and
+wear."
+
+Jest as I wus sayin' this, the hired man opened a door into a lofty,
+beautiful room; and says he,--
+
+"Step in here, madam, into the antick room, and I'll see if the President
+can see you;" and he started off sudden, bein' called. And I jest turned
+round and looked after him, for I wanted to enquire into it. I had heard
+of their cuttin' up anticks at Washington,--I had come prepared for it;
+but I didn't know as they was bold enough to come right out, and have
+rooms devoted to that purpose. And I looked all round the room before I
+ventured in. But it looked neat as a pin, and not a soul in there; and
+thinks'es I, "It hain't probable their day for cuttin' up anticks. I guess
+I'll venture." So I went in.
+
+But I sot pretty near the edge of the chair, ready to jump at the first
+thing I didn't like. And I kep' a close holt of the boy. I felt that I was
+right in the midst of dangers. I had feared and foreboded,--oh, how I had
+feared and foreboded about the dangers and deep perils of Washington,
+D.C.! And here I wuz, the very first thing, invited right in broad
+daylight, with no excuse or any thing, right into a antick room.
+
+Oh, how thankful, how thankful I wuz, that Josiah Allen wuzn't there!
+
+I knew, as he felt a good deal of the time, an antick room was what he
+would choose out of all others. And I felt stronger than ever the deep
+resolve that Josiah Allen should not run. He must not be exposed to such
+dangers, with his mind as it wuz, and his heft. I felt that he would
+suckumb.
+
+And I wondered that President Arthur, who I had always heard was a perfect
+gentleman, should come to have a room called like that, but s'posed it was
+there when he went. I don't believe he'd countenance any thing of the
+kind.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this when the hired man come back, and said,--
+
+"The President would receive me."
+
+"Wall," says I calmly, "I am ready to be received."
+
+So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room, kinder round,
+and red colored, with lots of elegant pictures and lookin'-glasses and
+books.
+
+The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and, good
+land! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed up
+slick--slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He had on
+a sort of a gray suit, and a rose-bud in his button-hole.
+
+He was a good-lookin' man, though he had a middlin' tired look in his
+kinder brown eyes as he looked up.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING THE PRESIDENT.]
+
+I had calculated to act noble on that occasion, as I appeared before him
+who stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W., and sot in the
+chair of the (nearly) angel Garfield. I had thought that likely as not,
+entirely unbeknown to me, I should soar right off into a eloquent oration.
+For I honored him as a President. I felt like neighborin' with him on
+account of his name--Allen! (That name I took at the alter of Jonesville,
+and pure love.)
+
+But how little can we calculate on future contingencies, or what we shall
+do when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I had said
+before on a similar occasion, these simple words, that yet mean so much,
+so much,--
+
+"Allen, I have come!"
+
+He, too, was overcome by his feelin's: I see he wuz. His face looked
+fairly solemn; but, as he is a perfect gentleman, he controlled himself,
+and said quietly these words, that, too, have a deep import,--
+
+"I see you have."
+
+He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady.
+And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip
+holt of the same hellum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm
+when I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.
+
+I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent
+chair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds,--I hain't vain, but
+I like to look well,--and then I at once told him of my errents. I told
+him--
+
+"I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,--one for myself, and
+two for Dorlesky Burpy."
+
+He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always looks
+tired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-chores done, so
+it didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my own
+errent first, consequently I tackled him.
+
+I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.
+
+And he said, "he had heard of it."
+
+And I says, "I s'pose so. I s'pose such things will spread, bein' a sort
+of a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and all
+round."
+
+"Yes," he said, "it was spoke of a good deal."
+
+"Wall," says I, "the cast-iron love and devotion I feel for that man don't
+show off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up strongest
+in dangers and troubles." And then I went on to tell him how Josiah wanted
+to come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had always heard
+Washington wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for me to lay down on
+my goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety, while my pardner was
+a grapplin' with dangers of which I did not know the exact size and heft.
+And so I had made up my mind to come ahead of him, as a forerunner on a
+tower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and see if I dast trust my
+companion there. "And now," says I, "I want you to tell me candid," says
+I. "Your settin' in George Washington's high chair makes me look up to
+you. It is a sightly place; you can see fur: your name bein' Allen makes
+me feel sort o' confidential and good towards you, and I want you to talk
+real honest and candid with me." Says I solemnly, "I ask you, Allen, not
+as a politician, but as a human bein', would you dast to let Josiah
+come?"
+
+Says he, "The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on what
+sort of a man it is that comes." Then was a tryin' time for me. I would
+not lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even from
+myself. So I says,--
+
+"He is a man that has traits and qualities, and sights of 'em."
+
+But thinkin' that I must do so, if I got true information of dangers, I
+went on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered dangerous
+to himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my dark
+forebodin's about it.
+
+The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what I
+had always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him all
+his political views and aspirations, and offered his help to the
+Government. And says he, "I think I know all about the man."
+
+"Then," says I, "you see he is a good deal like other men."
+
+And he said, sort o' dreamily, "that he was."
+
+And then agin silence rained. He was a thinkin', I knew, on all the deep
+dangers that hedged in Josiah Allen and America if he come. And a musin'
+on all the probable dangers of the Plan. And a thinkin' it over how to do
+jest right in the matter,--right by Josiah, right by the nation, right by
+me.
+
+Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and I
+says in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense,--
+
+"Would it be safe for my pardner to come to Washington? Would it be safe
+for Josiah, safe for the nation?" Says I, in deeper, mournfuler tones,--
+
+"Would you--would you dast to let him come?"
+
+He said, sort o' dreamily, "that those views and aspirations of Josiah's
+wasn't really needed at Washington, they had plenty of them there; and"--
+
+But I says, "I _must_ have a plainer answer to ease my mind and
+heart. Do tell me plain,--would you dast?"
+
+He looked full at me. He has got good, honest-looking eyes, and a
+sensible, candid look onto him. He liked me,--I knew he did from his
+looks,--a calm, Methodist-Episcopal likin',--nothin' light.
+
+And I see in them eyes that he didn't like Josiah's political idees. I see
+that he was afraid, as afraid as death of that plan; and I see that he
+considered Washington a dangerous, dangerous place for grangers and Josiah
+Allens to be a roamin' round in. I could see that he dreaded the
+sufferin's for me and for the nation if the Hon. Josiah Allen was elected.
+
+[Illustration: "WOULD YOU DAST?"]
+
+But still, he seemed to hate to speak; and wise, cautious conservatism,
+and gentlemanly dignity, was wrote down on his linement. Even the red
+rosebud in his button-hole looked dretful good-natured, but close-mouthed.
+
+I don't know as he would have spoke at all agin, if I hadn't uttered once
+more them soul-harrowin' words, "_Would you dast?_"
+
+Pity and good feelin' then seemed to overpower for a moment the statesman
+and courteous diplomat.
+
+And he said in gentle, gracious tones, "If I tell you just what I think, I
+would not like to say it officially, but would say it in confidence, as
+from an Allen to an Allen."
+
+Says I, "It sha'n't go no further."
+
+And so I would warn everybody that it must _not_ be told.
+
+Then says he, "I will tell you. I wouldn't dast."
+
+Says I, "That settles it. If human efforts can avail, Josiah Allen will
+not be United-States senator." And says I, "You have only confirmed my
+fears. I knew, feelin' as he felt, that it wuzn't safe for Josiah or the
+nation to have him come."
+
+Agin he reminded me that it was told to me in confidence, and agin I want
+to say that it _must_ be kep'.
+
+I thanked him for his kindness. He is a perfect gentleman; and he told me
+jest out of courtesy and politeness, and I know it. And I can be very
+polite too. And I am naturally one of the kindest-hearted of
+Jonesvillians.
+
+So I says to him, "I won't forget your kindness to me; and I want to say
+right here, that Josiah and me both think well on you--first-rate."
+
+Says he with a sort of a tired look, as if he wus a lookin' back over a
+hard road, "I have honestly tried to do the best I could."
+
+Says I, "I believe it." And wantin' to encourage him still more, says I,--
+
+"Josiah believes it, and Dorlesky Burpy, and lots of other Jonesvillians."
+Says I, "To set down in a chair that an angel has jest vacated, a high
+chair under the full glare of critical inspection, is a tegus place. I
+don't s'pose Garfield was really an angel, but his sufferin's and
+martyrdom placed him almost in that light before the world.
+
+"And you have filled that chair, and filled it well. With dignity and
+courtesy and prudence. And we have been proud of you, Josiah and me both
+have."
+
+He brightened up: he had been afraid, I could see, that we wuzn't suited
+with him. And it took a load offen him. His linement looked clearer than
+it had, and brighter.
+
+"And now," says I, sithin' a little, "I have got to do Dorlesky's
+errents."
+
+He, too, sithed. His linement fell. I pitied him, and would gladly have
+refrained from troubling him more. But duty hunched me; and when she
+hunches, I have to move forward.
+
+Says I in measured tones, each tone measurin' jest about the same,--half
+duty, and half pity for him,--
+
+"Dorlesky Burpy sent these errents to you. She wanted intemperance done
+away with--the Whiskey Ring broke right up. She wanted you to drink
+nothin' stronger than root-beer when you had company to dinner, she
+offerin' to send you a receipt for it from Jonesville; and she wanted her
+rights, and she wanted 'em all this week without fail."
+
+He sithed hard. And never did I see a linement fall further than his
+linement fell. I pitied him. I see it wus a hard stent for him, to do it
+in the time she had sot.
+
+And I says, "I think myself that Dorlesky is a little onreasonable. I
+myself am willin' to wait till next week. But she has suffered dretfully
+from intemperance, dretfully from the Rings, and dretfully from want of
+Rights. And her sufferin's have made her more voyalent in her demands, and
+impatienter."
+
+And then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent. But my promise
+weighed on me, and Duty poked me in the side. I wus determined to do the
+errent jest as I would wish a errent done for me, from borryin' a drawin'
+of tea to tacklin' the nation, and tryin' to get a little mess of truth
+and justice out of it.
+
+"Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do these things, she
+would have you removed from the Presidential chair, and you should never,
+never, be President agin."
+
+He trembled, he trembled like a popple-leaf. And I felt as if I should
+sink: it seemed to me jest as if Dorlesky wus askin' too much of him, and
+was threatenin' too hard.
+
+And bein' one that loves truth, I told him that Dorlesky was middlin'
+disagreeable, and very humbly, but she needed her rights jest as much as
+if she was a dolly. And then I went on and told him all how she and her
+relations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she had
+suffered from the Ring, till I declare, a talkin about them little
+children of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin' as Dorlesky
+herself; and entirely unbeknown to myself, I talked powerful on
+intemperance and Rings--and sound.
+
+When I got down agin onto my feet, I see he had a sort of a worried,
+anxious look; and he says,--
+
+"The laws of the United States are such, that I can't interfere."
+
+"Then," says I, "why don't you _make_ the United States do right?"
+
+And he said somethin' about the might of the majority and the powerful
+rings.
+
+And that sot me off agin. And I talked very powerful, kinder allegored,
+about allowin' a ring to be put round the United States, and let a lot of
+whiskey-dealers lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels. Says
+I, "How does it look before the Nations, to see Columbia led round half
+tipsy by a Ring?"
+
+He seemed to think it looked bad, I knew by his looks.
+
+Says I, "Intemperance is bad for Dorlesky, and bad for the Nation."
+
+He murmured somethin' about the "revenue that the liquor-trade brought to
+the Government."
+
+But I says, "Every penny they give, is money right out of the people's
+pockets; and every dollar that the people pay into the liquor-traffic,
+that they may give a few cents of it into the Treasury, is costin' the
+people three times that dollar, in the loss that intemperance entails,--
+loss of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do any thing but wobble
+and stagger round; loss of wealth, by all the enormous losses of property
+and of taxation, of almshouses and madhouses, jails, police forces,
+paupers' coffins, and the digging of the thousands and thousands of graves
+that are filled yearly by them that reel into 'em." Says I, "Wouldn't it
+be better for the people to pay that dollar in the first place into the
+Treasury, than to let it filter through the dram-seller's hands, and 2 or
+3 cents of it fall into the National purse at last, putrid, and heavy with
+all these losses and curses and crimes and shames and despairs and
+agonies?"
+
+He seemed to think it would: I see by the looks of his linement, he did.
+Every honorable man feels so in his heart; and yet they let the liquor
+ring control 'em, and lead 'em round.
+
+Says I, "All the intellectual and moral power of the United States are
+jest rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring, and are being drove by
+the whiskey-dealers jest where they want to drive 'em." Says I, "It
+controls New-York village, and nobody pretends to deny it; and all the
+piety and philanthropy and culture and philosiphy of that village has to
+be jest drawed along in that Ring. And," says I, in low but startlin'
+tones of principle,--
+
+"Where, where, is it a drawin' 'em to? Where is it a drawin' the hull
+nation to? Is it' a drawin' 'em down into a slavery ten times more abject
+and soul-destroyin' than African slavery ever was? Tell me," says I
+firmly, "tell me."
+
+His mean looked impressed, but he did not try to frame a reply. I think he
+could not find a frame. There is no frame to that reply. It is a conundrum
+as boundless as truth and God's justice, and as solemnly deep in its sure
+consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as that is.
+
+Agin I says, "Where is that Ring a drawin' the United States? Where is it
+a drawin' Dorlesky?"
+
+"Oh! Dorlesky!" says he, a comin' up out of his deep reveryin', but
+polite,--a politer demeanerd, gentlemanly appeariner man I don't want to
+see. "Ah, yes! I would be glad, Josiah Allen's wife, to do her errent. I
+think Dorlesky is justified in asking to have the Ring destroyed. But I am
+not the one to go to--I am not the one to do her errent."
+
+Says I, "Who is the man, or men?"
+
+Says he, "James G. Blaine."
+
+Says I, "Is that so? I will go right to James G. Blaineses."
+
+So I spoke to the boy. He had been all engaged lookin' out of the winders,
+but he was willin' to go.
+
+And the President took the boy upon his knee, wantin' to do something
+agreeable, I s'pose, seein' he couldn't do the errent. And he says, jest
+to make himself pleasant to the boy,--
+
+"Well, my little man, are you a Republican, or Democrat?"
+
+"I am a Epispocal."
+
+And seein' the boy seemed to be headed onto theoligy instead of politics,
+and wantin' to kinder show him off, I says,--
+
+"Tell the gentleman who made you."
+
+He spoke right up prompt, as if hurryin' to get through theoligy, so's to
+tackle sunthin' else. He answered as exhaustively as an exhauster could at
+a meetin',--
+
+"I was made out of dust, and breathed into. I am made out of God and
+dirt."
+
+Oh, how deep, how deep that child is! I never had heard him say that
+before. But how true it wuz! The divine and the human, linked so close
+together from birth till death. No philosipher that ever philosiphized
+could go deeper or higher.
+
+I see the President looked impressed. But the boy branched off quick, for
+he seemed fairly burstin' with questions.
+
+[Illustration: "I AM A EPISPOCAL."]
+
+"_Say,_ what is this house called the White House for? Is it because
+it is to help white folks, and not help the black ones, and Injins?"
+
+I declare, I almost thought the boy had heard sunthin' about the elections
+in the South, and the Congressional vote for cuttin' down the money for
+the Indian schools. Legislative action to perpetuate the ignorance and
+brutality of a race.
+
+The President said dreamily, "No, it wasn't for that."
+
+"Well, is it called white like the gate of the City is? Mamma said that
+was white,--a pearl, you know,--because every thing was pure and white
+inside the City. Is it because the laws that are made here are all white
+and good? And _say_"--
+
+Here his eyes looked dark and big with excitement.
+
+"What is George Washington up on top of that big white piller for?"
+
+"He was a great man."
+
+"How much did he weigh? How many yards did it take for his vest--forty?"
+
+"He did great and noble deeds--he fought and bled."
+
+"If fighting makes folks great, why did mamma punish me when I fought with
+Jim Gowdey? He stole my jack-knife, and knocked me down, and set down on
+me, and took my chewing-gum away from me, and chewed it himself. And I
+rose against him, and we fought and bled: my nose bled, and so did his.
+But I got it away from him, and chewed it myself. But mamma punished me,
+and said; God wouldn't love me if I quarrelled so, and if we couldn't
+agree, we must get somebody to settle our trouble for us. Why didn't she
+stand me up on a big white pillow out in the door-yard, and be proud of
+me, and not shut me up in a dark closet?"
+
+"He fought for Liberty."
+
+"Did he get it?"
+
+"He fought that the United States might be free."
+
+"Is it free?"
+
+The President waved off that question, and the boy kep' on.
+
+"Is it true what you have been talkin' about,--is there a great big ring
+put all round it, and is it bein' drawed along into a mean place?"
+
+[Illustration: WAR DECLARED.]
+
+And then the boy's eyes grew black with excitement; and he kep' right on
+without waitin' for breath, or for a answer,--
+
+"He had heard it talked about, was it right to let anybody do wrong for
+money? Did the United States do it? Did it make mean things right? If it
+did, he wanted to get one of Tom Gowdy's white rats. He wouldn't sell it,
+and he wanted it. His mother wouldn't let him steal it; but if the United
+States could _make_ it right for him to do wrong, he had got ten
+cents of his own, and he'd buy the right to get that white rat. And if Tom
+wanted to cry about it, let him. If the United States sold him the right
+to do it, he guessed he could do it, no matter how much whimperin' there
+was, and no matter who said it was wrong. _He wanted the rat_."
+
+But I see the President's eyes, which had looked kinder rested when he
+took him up, grew bigger and bigger with surprise and anxiety. I guess he
+thought he had got his day's work in front of him. And I told the boy we
+must go. And then I says to the President,--
+
+"That I knew he was quite a traveller, and of course he wouldn't want to
+die without seein' Jonesville;" and says I, "Be sure to come to our house
+to supper when you come." Says I, "I can't reccomend the huntin' so much;
+there haint nothin' more excitin' to shoot than red squirrels and
+chipmunks: but there is quite good fishin' in the creek back of our house;
+they ketched 4 horned Asa's there last week, and lots of chubs."
+
+He smiled real agreable, and said, "when he visited Jonesville, he
+wouldn't fail to take tea with me."
+
+Says I, "So do; and, if you get lost, you jest enquire at the Corners of
+old Grout Nickleson, and he will set you right."
+
+He smiled agin, and said "he wouldn't fail to enquire if he got lost."
+
+And then I shook hands with him, thinkin' it would be expected of me (his
+hands are white, and not much bigger than Tirzah Ann's). And then I
+removed the boy by voyalence, for he was a askin' questions agin, faster
+than ever; and he poured out over his shoulder a partin' dribble of
+questions, that lasted till we got outside. And then he tackled me, and he
+asked me somewhere in the neighborhood of a 1,000 questions on the way
+back to Miss Smiths'es.
+
+He begun agin on George Washington jest as quick as he ketched sight of
+his monument agin.
+
+"If George Washington is up on the top of that monument for tellin' the
+truth, why didn't all the big men try to tell the truth so's to be stood
+up on pillows outdoors, and not be a layin' down in the grass? And did the
+little hatchet help him do right? If it did, why didn't all the big men
+wear them in their belts to do right with, and tell the truth with? And
+_say_"--
+
+Oh, dear me suz! He asked me over 40 questions to a lamp-post, for I
+counted 'em; and there wuz 18 posts.
+
+Good land! I'd ruther wash than try to answer him; but he looked so sweet
+and good-natured and confidin', his eyes danced so, and he was so awful
+pretty, that I felt in the midst of my deep fag, that I could kiss him
+right there in the street if it wuzn't for the looks of it: he is a
+beautiful child, and very deep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Wall, after dinner I sot sail for James G. Blains'es, a walkin' afoot, and
+carryin' Dorlesky's errent. I was determined to do that errent before I
+slept. I am very obleegin', and am called so.
+
+When I got to Mr. Blaines'es, I was considerably tired; for though
+Dorlesky's errent might not be heavy as weighed by the steelyards, yet it
+was _very_ hefty and wearin' on the moral feelin's. And my firm,
+unalterable determination to carry it straight, and tend to it, to the
+very utmost of my ability, strained on me.
+
+I was fagged.
+
+But I don't believe Mr. Blaine see the fag. I shook hands with him, and
+there was calmness in that shake. I passed the compliments of the day (how
+do you do, etc.), and there was peace and dignity in them compliments.
+
+He was most probable, glad I had come. But he didn't seem quite so over-
+rejoiced as he probable would if he hadn't been so busy. _I_ can't be
+so highly tickled when company comes, when I am washin' and cleanin'
+house.
+
+He had piles and piles of papers on the table before him. And there was a
+gentleman a settin' at the end of the room a readin'.
+
+I like James G. Blaines'es looks middlin' well. Although, like myself, he
+don't set up for a professional beauty. It seems as if some of the
+strength of the mountain pines round his old home is a holdin' up his
+backbone, and some of the bracin' air of the pine woods of Maine has
+blowed into James'es intellect, and braced it.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING JAMES G. BLAINE.]
+
+I think enough of James, but not too much. My likin' is jest about strong
+enough from a literary person to a literary person.
+
+We are both literary, very. He is considerable taller than I am; and on
+that account, and a good many others, I felt like lookin' up to him.
+
+Wall, when I have got a hard job in front of me, I don't know any better
+way than to tackle it to once. So consequently I tackled it.
+
+I told James, that Dorlesky Burpy had sent two errents by me, and I had
+brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+
+And then I told him jest how she had suffered from the Whisky Ring, and
+how she had suffered from not havin' her rights; and I told him all about
+her relations sufferin', and that Dorlesky wanted the Ring broke, and her
+rights gin to her, within seven days at the longest.
+
+He rubbed his brow thoughtfully, and says,--
+
+"It will be difficult to accomplish so much in so short a time."
+
+"I know it," says I. "I told Dorlesky it would. But she feels jest so, and
+I promised to do her errent; and I am a doin' it."
+
+Agin he rubbed his brow in deep thought, and agin he says,--
+
+"I don't think Dorlesky is unreasonable in her demands, only in the length
+of time she has set."
+
+Says I, "That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could do
+her errents this week. But you can see for yourself that she is right,
+only in the time she has sot."
+
+"Yes," he said. "He see she wuz." And says he, "I wish the 3 could be
+reconciled."
+
+"What 3?" says I.
+
+Says he, "The liquor traffic, liberty, and Dorlesky."
+
+And then come the very hardest part of my errent. But I had to do it, I
+had to.
+
+Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't the
+woman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the wrong tones
+at the wrong times--no, I used my deepest and most skairful one--says I,
+"Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do her errent, you should
+not be the next President of the United States."
+
+He turned pale. He looked agitated, fearful agitated.
+
+I s'pose it was not only my words and tone that skairt him, but my mean. I
+put on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble, high-headed
+mean at times. I got it, I think, in the first place, by overlookin'
+Josiah's faults. I always said a wife ort to overlook her husband's
+faults; and I have to overlook so many, that it has made me about as high-
+headed, sometimes, as a warlike gander, but more sort o' meller-lookin',
+and sublime, kinder.
+
+He stood white as a piece of a piller-case, and seemin'ly plunged down
+into the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and says
+he,--
+
+"I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. And
+while I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the same
+time I do want to be--if you'll understand that paradox," says he.
+
+"Yes," says I sadly. "I understand that paradox. I have seen it myself,
+right in my own family." And I sithed. And agin silence rained; and I sot
+quietly in the rain, thinkin' mebby good would come of it.
+
+Finally he riz out of his revery; and says he, with a brighter look on his
+linement,--
+
+"I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent."
+
+"Who is the one?" says I.
+
+"Senator Logan," says he.
+
+Says I, "I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get back;
+for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over
+Washington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub is
+trusty: I'll send him." And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a
+gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort of
+a noble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen in
+'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further.
+
+But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him
+that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves.
+
+But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman
+in the room,--
+
+"This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for you."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I would be glad to get it done, without goin' any
+further. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots of
+other wimmen."
+
+Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaine
+introduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blaine
+spoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick it
+up; and then he shook hands with me: and Mr. Blaine said good-bye to me,
+and started off.
+
+I felt willin' and glad to have this senator do Dorlesky's errents, but I
+didn't like his looks from the very first minute I sot my eyes on him.
+
+My land! talk about Dorlesky Burpy bein' disagreable--he wus as
+disagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of his
+eyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more close
+than that. He was some bald-headed, and he kinder smiled once in a while:
+I persume he will be known by this description. It is plain, anyway,
+almost lucid.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BLAINE INTRODUCING THE SENATOR.]
+
+But his baldness didn't look to me like Josiah Allen's baldness; and he
+didn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or the
+perfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised him
+from the first minute.
+
+Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for his
+mean. Truly, as Josiah Allen says, I don't like to see anybody too good.
+
+He drawed a chair up, for me and for himself, and asked me,--
+
+"If he should have the inexpressible honor and the delightful joy of
+aiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it," or words to that
+effect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want to
+if I could.
+
+But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly in
+front of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all of
+Dorlesky's errents. And how I had brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower.
+I told over all of her sufferin's, from the Ring, and from not havin' her
+rights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's; and all her aunt
+Eunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's, sufferin's. I did her
+errent up honorable and square, as I would love to have a errent done for
+me. I told him all the particulers; and as I finished, I said firmly,--
+
+"Now, can you do Dorlesky's errents? and will you?"
+
+He leaned forward with that deceitful and sort of disagreable smile of
+hisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fashion; and
+he took up the tab, and says he, in a low, insinuatin' voice, and lookin'
+close at the edge of the tab,--
+
+"Am I mistaken, or is this pipein'? or can it be Kensington tattin'?"
+
+I jest drawed the tab back coldly, and never dained a reply.
+
+Again he says, in a tone of amiable anxiety,--
+
+"Have I not heard a rumor that bangs were going out of style? I see you do
+not wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen are
+lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them." And he sithed.
+"_You_ are very beautiful." And he sithed agin, a sort of a
+deceitful, love-sick sithe.
+
+I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing against
+her stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk or
+his sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad, injured look, as
+if my coldness wus ondoin' of him,--
+
+"My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however
+carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you a
+leaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the
+traits and habits of our American wad?"
+
+"What?" says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by just
+indignation, can stand only jest so much strain. "The what?"
+
+"The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that tailors
+make so much use of."
+
+Says I, "Do you mean waddin' 8 cents a sheet?"
+
+"8 cents a pelt--yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the
+hardy habits of the animal."
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly. I will hear no more."
+
+Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and the little talk that statesmen
+will use to wimmen, and I had heard much of their lies, etc.; but truly, I
+felt that the 1/2 had not been told. And then I thought out loud, and
+says,--
+
+"I have hearn how laws of right and justice are sot one side in
+Washington, D.C., as bein' too triflin' to attend to, while the
+legislators pondered over, and passed laws regardin', hens' eggs and
+birds' nests. But this is goin' too fur--too fur. But," says I firmly, "I
+shall do Dorlesky's errents, and do 'em to the best of my ability; and you
+can't draw off my attention from her sufferin's and her suffragin's by
+talkin' about wads."
+
+"I would love to obleege Dorlesky," says he, "because she belongs to such
+a lovely sex. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that ever
+walked the earth: they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses."
+
+Says I firmly, "That hain't no such thing. They are disagreable creeters a
+good deal of the time. They hain't no better than men. But they ought to
+have their rights all the same. Now, Dorlesky is disagreable, and kinder
+fierce actin', and jest as humbly as they make wimmen; but that hain't no
+sign she ort to be imposed upon. Josiah says, 'She hadn't ort to have a
+right, not a single right, because she is so humbly.' But I don't feel
+so."
+
+"Who is Josiah?" says he.
+
+Says I, "My husband."
+
+"Ah! your husband! yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of rights.
+They do not need rights, they need freedom from all cares and sufferings.
+Sweet, lovely beings, let them have husbands to lift them above all
+earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes," says he, liftin' his
+eyes to the heavens, and kinder shettin' 'em, some as if he was goin' into
+a trance, "fly around, ye angels, in your native haunts! mingle not with
+rings, and vile laws; flee away, flee above them."
+
+And he kinder moved his hand back and forth, in a floatin' fashion, up in
+the air, as if it was a woman a flyin' up there, smooth and serene. It
+would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn't me. I says
+reasonably,--
+
+"Dorlesky would have been glad to flew above 'em. But the ring and the
+vile laws laid holt of her, unbeknown to her, and dragged her down. And
+there she is, all dragged and bruised and brokenhearted by it. She didn't
+meddle with the political ring, but the ring meddled with her. How can she
+fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is a holdin' her down?"
+
+[Illustration: "FLY AROUND, YE ANGELS."]
+
+"Ahem!" says he. "Ahem, as it were--as I was saying, my dear madam, these
+angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty, to mingle with
+the rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are now: we
+are willing to stand the rude buffetings of--of--voting, in order to guard
+these sweet, delicate creatures from any hardships. Sweet, tender beings,
+we would fain guard you--ah, yes! ah, yes!"
+
+[Illustration: WOMAN'S RIGHTS.]
+
+Says I, "Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase; for such talk is
+like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral stomach." Says I, "You know, and
+I know, that these angelic, tender bein's, half clothed, fill our streets
+on icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. They
+are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want liquor-
+drinkin' entails. They are starved, they are frozen, they are beaten, they
+are made childless and hopeless, by drunken husbands killing their own
+flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves, and are drowned by
+drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death, by drunken
+engineers; they go up on the scaffold, and die of crimes committed by the
+direct aid of this agent of hell.
+
+[Illustration: SOMEBODY BLUNDERED.]
+
+"Wimmen had ruther be a flyin' round than to do all this, but they can't.
+If men really believe all they say about wimmen, and I think some of 'em
+do, in a dreamy way--if wimmen are angels, give 'em the rights of angels.
+Who ever heard of a angel foldin' up her wings, and goin' to a poorhouse
+or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever heard of a angel
+bein' dragged off to a police court by a lot of men, for fightin' to
+defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that had broke her
+wings, and blacked her eyes, himself, got the angel into the fight, and
+then she got throwed into the streets and the prison by it? Who ever heard
+of a angel havin' to take in washin' to support a drunken son or father or
+husband? Who ever heard of a angel goin' out as wet nurse to get money to
+pay taxes on her home to a Government that in theory idolizes her, and
+practically despises her, and uses that same money in ways abomenable to
+that angel?
+
+"If you want to be consistent--if you are bound to make angels of wimmen,
+you ort to furnish a free, safe place for 'em to soar in. You ort to keep
+the angels from bein' meddled with, and bruised, and killed, etc."
+
+"Ahem," says he. "As it were, ahem."
+
+But I kep' right on, for I begun to feel noble and by the side of myself.
+
+"This talk about wimmen bein' outside and above all participation in the
+laws of her country, is jest as pretty as I ever heard any thing, and jest
+as simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes into the
+street, and say, 'Some of 'em are female flakes, and mustn't be trampled
+on.' The great march of life tramples on 'em all alike: they fall from one
+common sky, and are trodden down into one common ground.
+
+"Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human needs
+and weaknesses, needin' the same heavenly light, and the same human aids
+and helps. The law should meet out to them the same rewards and
+punishments.
+
+"Dorlesky says you call wimmens angels, and you don't give 'em the rights
+of the lowest beasts that crawls upon the earth. And Dorlesky told me to
+tell you that she didn't ask the rights of a angel: she would be perfectly
+contented and proud if you would give her the rights of a dog--the assured
+political rights of a yeller dog. She said 'yeller;' and I am bound on
+doin' her errent jest as she wanted me to, word for word.
+
+"A dog, Dorlesky says, don't have to be hung if it breaks the laws it is
+not allowed any hand in making. A dog don't have to pay taxes on its bone
+to a Government that withholds every right of citizenship from it.
+
+"A dog hain't called undogly if it is industrious, and hunts quietly round
+for its bone to the best of its ability, and wants to get its share of the
+crumbs that fall from that table that bills are laid on.
+
+"A dog hain't preached to about its duty to keep home sweet and sacred,
+and then see that home turned into a place of torment under laws that
+these very preachers have made legal and respectable.
+
+"A dog don't have to see its property taxed to advance laws that it
+believes ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the hearts of other
+dear dogs.
+
+"A dog don't have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that deny
+it freedom and justice--about its bein' a damosk rose, and a seraphine,
+when it knows it hain't: it knows, if it knows any thing, that it is a
+dog.
+
+"You see, Dorlesky has been kinder embittered by her trials that politics,
+corrupt legislation, has brought right onto her. She didn't want nothin'
+to do with 'em; but they come right onto her unexpected and unbeknown, and
+she feels jest so. She feels she must do every thing she can to alter
+matters. She wants to help make the laws that have such a overpowerin'
+influence over her, herself. She believes from her soul that they can't be
+much worse than they be now, and may be a little better."
+
+"Ah! if Dorlesky wishes to influence political affairs, let her influence
+her children,--her boys,--and they will carry her benign and noble
+influence forward into the centuries."
+
+"But the law has took her boy, her little boy and girl, away from her.
+Through the influence of the Whisky Ring, of which her husband was a
+shinin' member, he got possession of her boy. And so, the law has made it
+perfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him. What
+Dorlesky does, she must do herself."
+
+"Ah! A sad thing for Dorlesky. I trust that you have no grievance of the
+kind, I trust that your estimable husband is--as it were, estimable."
+
+"Yes, Josiah Allen is a good man. As good as men _can_ be. You know,
+men or wimmen either can't be only jest about so good anyway. But he is my
+choice, and he don't drink a drop."
+
+"Pardon me, madam; but if you are happy, as you say, in your marriage
+relations, and your husband is a temperate, good man, why do you feel so
+upon this subject?"
+
+"Why, good land! if you understand the nature of a woman, you would know
+that my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel about
+him, and our boy, makes me realize the sufferin's of Dorlesky in havin'
+her husband and boy lost to her, makes me realize the depth of a wive's,
+of a mother's, agony, when she sees the one she loves goin' down, goin'
+down so low that she can't reach him; makes me feel how she must yearn to
+help him in some safe, sure way.
+
+"High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman's life
+is, the more does she feel for them who are less blessed than she. Highest
+love goes lowest, if need be. Witness the love that left Heaven, and
+descended onto the earth, and into it, that He might lift up the lowly.
+
+"The pityin' words of Him who went about pleasin' not himself, hants me,
+and inspires me. I am sorry for Dorlesky, sorry for the hull wimmen race
+of the nation--and for the men too. Lots of 'em are good creeters--better
+than wimmen, some on 'em. They want to do jest about right, but don't
+exactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times, some of the
+masters was more to be pitied than the slaves. They could see the
+injustice, feel the wrong, they was doin'; but old chains of custom bound
+'em, social customs and idees had hardened into habits of thought.
+
+"They realized the size and heft of the evil, but didn't know how to
+grapple with it, and throw it.
+
+"So now, many men see the great evils of this time, want to help it, but
+don't know the best way to lay holt of it.
+
+"Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try to
+get the right answer to it as fur as we can. Dorlesky feels that one of
+the answers to the conundrum is in gettin' her rights. She feels jest so.
+
+"I myself have got all the rights I need, or want, as fur as my own
+happiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half wooden
+one, but dear).
+
+"My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give social
+happiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property enough,
+and more than enough, for all the comforts of life. And, above all other
+things, my Josiah is my love and my theme."
+
+"Ah! yes!" says he. "Love is a woman's empire, and in that she should find
+her full content--her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman will
+not look outside of that lovely and safe and beautious empire."
+
+Says I firmly, "If she hain't a idiot, she can't help it. Love is the most
+beautiful thing on earth, the most holy, the most satisfyin'. But which
+would you like best--I do not ask you as a politician, but as a human
+bein'--which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest, tender
+nature--for in man or woman, 'the strongest are the tenderest, the loving
+are the daring'--which would you like best, the love and respect of such a
+nature, full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite variety, or the love of a
+fool?
+
+"A fool's love is wearin': it is insipid at the best, and it turns to
+viniger. Why! sweetened water _must_ turn to viniger: it is its
+nater. And, if a woman is bright and true-hearted, she can't help seem'
+through a injustice. She may be happy in her own home. Domestic affection,
+social enjoyments, the delights of a cultured home and society, and the
+companionship of the man she loves, and who loves her, will, if she is a
+true woman, satisfy fully her own personal needs and desires; and she
+would far rather, for her own selfish happiness, rest quietly in that
+love--that most blessed home.
+
+"But the bright, quick intellect that delights you, can't help seeing
+through an injustice, can't help seeing through shams of all kinds--sham
+sentiment, sham compliments, sham justice.
+
+"The tender, lovin' nature that blesses your life, can't help feelin' pity
+for those less blessed than herself. She looks down through the love-
+guarded lattice of her home,--from which your care would fain bar out all
+sights of woe and squalor,--she looks down, and sees the weary toilers
+below, the hopeless, the wretched; she sees the steep hills they have to
+climb, carry in' their crosses; she sees 'em go down into the mire,
+dragged there by the love that should lift 'em up.
+
+"She would not be the woman you love, if she could restrain her hand from
+liftin' up the fallen, wipin' tears from weepin' eyes, speakin' brave
+words for them who can't speak for themselves.
+
+"The very strength of her affection that would hold you up, if you were in
+trouble or disgrace, yearns to help all sorrowin' hearts.
+
+"Down in your heart, you can't help admirin' her for this: we can't help
+respectin' the one who advocates the right, the true, even if they are our
+conquerors.
+
+"Wimmen hain't angels: now, to be candid, you know they hain't. They
+hain't better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems curious
+to me, that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort to be more
+honest and open than wimmen. They hain't had to cajole and wheedle, and
+spile their natures, through little trickeries and deceits, and indirect
+ways, that wimmen has.
+
+"Why, cramp a tree-limb, and see if it will grow as straight and vigorous
+as it would in full freedom and sunshine.
+
+"Men ort to be nobler than wimmen, sincerer, braver. And they ort to be
+ashamed of this one trick of theirn; for they know they hain't honest in
+it, they hain't generous.
+
+"Give wimmen 2 or 3 generations of moral freedom, and see if men will
+laugh at 'em for their little deceits and affectations.
+
+"No: men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler; and they will both come
+nearer bein' angels, though most probable they won't be angels: they won't
+be any too good then, I hain't a mite afraid of it."
+
+He kinder sithed; and that sithe sort o' brought me down onto my feet agin
+(as it were), and a sense of my duty: and I spoke out agin,--
+
+"Can you, and will you, do Dorlesky's errents?"
+
+[Illustration: THE WEARY TOILERS OF LIFE.]
+
+Wall, he said, "as far as giving Dorlesky her rights was concerned, he
+felt that natural human instinct was against the change." He said, "in
+savage races, who knew nothing of civilization, male force and strength
+always ruled."
+
+Says I, "History can't be disputed; and history tells of savage races
+where the wimmen always rule, though I don't think they ort to," says I:
+"ability and goodness ort to rule."
+
+"Nature is against it," says he.
+
+Says I firmly, "Female bees, and lots of other insects, and animals,
+always have a female for queen and ruler. They rule blindly and entirely,
+right on through the centuries. But we are more enlightened, and should
+_not_ encourage it. In my opinion, a male bee has jest as good a
+right to be monarch as his female companion has. That is," says I
+reasonably, "if he knows as much, and is as good a calculator as she is. I
+love justice, I almost worship it."
+
+Agin he sithed; and says he, "Modern history don't seem to encourage the
+skeme."
+
+But his axent was weak, weak as a cat. He knew better.
+
+Says I, "We won't argue long on that point, for I could overwhelm you if I
+approved of overwhelmin'. But I merely ask you to cast your right eye over
+into England, and then beyond it into France. Men have ruled exclusively
+in France for the last 40 or 50 years, and a woman in England: which realm
+has been the most peaceful and prosperous?"
+
+He sithed twice. And he bowed his head upon his breast, in a sad, almost
+meachin' way. I nearly pitied him, disagreable as he wuz. When all of a
+sudden he brightened up; and says he,--
+
+"You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible is
+aginst the idee. The Bible teaches man's supremacy, man's absolute power
+and might and authority."
+
+"Why, how you talk!" says I. "Why, in the very first chapter, the Bible
+tells how man was jest turned right round by a woman. It teaches how she
+not only turned man right round to do as she wanted him to, but turned the
+hull world over.
+
+"That hain't nothin' I approve of: I don't speak of it because I like the
+idee. That wuzn't done in a open, honorable manner, as I believe things
+should be done. No: Eve ruled by indirect influence,--the 'gently
+influencing men' way, that politicians are so fond of. And she jest
+brought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it. A few years
+later, after men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen ruling
+Israel openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah, and other likely old 4
+mothers, why, things went on better. They didn't act meachin', and tempt,
+and act indirect, I'll bet, or I wouldn't be afraid to bet, if I approved
+of bettin'."
+
+He sithed powerful, and sot round oneasy in his chair. And says he, "I
+thought wimmen was taught by the Bible to serve, and love their homes."
+
+"So they be. And every true woman loves to serve. Home is my supreme
+happiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin' them I
+love. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors."
+
+"Wall," says he faintly, "the Old Testament may teach that wimmen has some
+strenth and power; but in the New Testament, you will find that in every
+great undertakin' and plan, men have been chosen by God to carry it
+through."
+
+"Why-ee!" says I. "How you talk!" says I. "Have you ever read the Bible?"
+
+He said "He had, his grandmother owned one. And he had seen it in early
+youth."
+
+And then he went on, sort o' apologizin', "He had always meant to read it
+through. But he had entered political life at an early age, and he
+believed he had never read any more of it, only portions of Gulliver's
+Travels. He believed," he said, "he had read as far as Lilliputions."
+
+Says I, "That hain't in the Bible,--you mean Gallatians."
+
+"Wall," he said, "that might be it. It was some man, he knew, and he had
+always heard and believed that man was the only worker God had chosen."
+
+"Why," says I, "the one great theme of the New Testament,--the redemption
+of the world through the birth of the Christ,--no man had any thing to do
+with that whatever. Our divine Lord was born of God and woman.
+
+"Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called women
+into that work,--the divine work of helpin' a world.
+
+"God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire for a world's
+work of sufferin' and renunciation. The soft airs of Gallilee wrapped her
+about in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams in maiden
+peace, dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and quiet and happiness.
+
+"From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy, innocent
+girlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin' to redeem a world
+from sin.
+
+"And did not this woman's love, and willin' obedience, and sufferin', and
+the shame of the world, set her apart, babtize her for this work of
+liftin' up the fallen, helpin' the weak?
+
+"Is it not a part of woman's life that she gave at the birth and the
+crucifixion?--her faith, her hope, her sufferin', her glow of divine pity
+and joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure heavenly,
+have they not for 1800 years been blessin' the world? The God in Christ
+would awe us too much: we would shield our faces from the too blindin'
+glare of the pure God-like. But the tender Christ, who wept over a sinful
+city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon the cross, to
+comfort his mother's heart, provide for her future--it is this element in
+our Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him, dare to kneel at His
+feet.
+
+"And since woman wus so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-worker
+with God in the beginnin' of a world's redemption; since He called her
+from the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace, into the blessed
+martyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin', all to help a world that
+cared nothing for her, that cried out shame upon her,--will He not help
+her to carry on the work that she helped commence? Will He not approve of
+her continuin' in it? Will He not protect her in it?
+
+"Yes: she cannot be harmed, since His care is over her; and the cause she
+loves, the cause of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too, and God
+will take care of His own. Herods full of greed, and frightened
+selfishness, may try to break her heart, by efforts to kill the child she
+loves; but she will hold it so close to her bosom, that he can't destroy
+it. And the light of the divine will go before her, showin' the way she
+must go, over the desert, maybe; but she shall bear it into safety."
+
+"You spoke of Herod," says he dreamily. "The name sounds familiar to me:
+was not Mr. Herod once in the United-States Congress?"
+
+"No," says I. "He died some years ago. But he has relatives there now, I
+think, judging from recent laws. You ask who Herod was; and, as it all
+seems to be a new story to you, I will tell you. That when the Saviour of
+the world was born in Bethlehem, and a woman was tryin' to save His life,
+a man by the name of Herod was tryin' his best, out of selfishness, and
+love of gain, to murder him."
+
+"Ah! that was not right in Herod."
+
+"No," says I. "It hain't been called so. And what wuzn't right in him,
+hain't right in his relations, who are tryin' to do the same thing to-day.
+But," says I reasonably, "because Herod was so mean, it hain't no sign
+that all men was mean. Joseph, now, was likely as he could be."
+
+"Joseph," says he pensively. "Do you allude to our senator from
+Connecticut,--Joseph R. Hawley?"
+
+"No, no," says I. "He is likely, as likely can be, and is always on the
+right side of questions--middlin' handsome too. But I am talkin' Bible--I
+am talkin' about Joseph, jest plain Joseph, and nothin' else."
+
+"Ah! I see I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed in
+politics, and political literature, I don't get any time to devote to less
+important publications."
+
+Says I candidly, "I knew you hadn't read it, I knew it the minute you
+mentioned the Book of Lilliputions. But, as I was a sayin', Joseph was a
+likely man. He did the very best he could with what he had to do with. He
+had the strength to lead the way, to overcome obsticles, to keep dangers
+from Mary, to protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his generous
+devotion.
+
+[Illustration: BEARING THE BABY PEACE.]
+
+"_But she carried the child on her bosom_. Pondering high things in
+her heart that Joseph had never dreamed of. That is what is wanted now,
+and in the future. The man and the woman walking side by side. He, a
+little ahead mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength and
+courage. She, a carryin' the infant Christ of love, bearin' the baby Peace
+in her bosom, carrying it into safety from them that seek to murder it.
+
+"And, as I said before, if God called woman into this work, He will enable
+her to carry it through. He will protect her from her own weaknesses, and
+from the misapprehensions and hard judgments and injustices of a gain-
+saying world.
+
+"Yes, the star of hope is rising in the sky, brighter and brighter; and
+the wise men are even now coming from afar over the desert, seeking
+diligently where this redeemer is to be found." He sot demute. He did not
+frame a reply: he had no frame, and I knew it. Silence rained for some
+time; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain,--
+
+"Will you do Dorlesky's errents? Will you give her her rights? And will
+you break the Whisky Ring?"
+
+He said he would love to do Dorlesky's errents. He said I had convinced
+him that it would be just and right to do 'em, but the Constitution of the
+United States stood up firm against 'em. As the laws of the United State
+wuz, he could not make any move towards doin' either of the errents.
+
+Says I, "Can't the laws be changed?"
+
+"Be changed? Change the laws of the United States? Tamper with the
+glorious Constitution that our 4 fathers left us--an immortal, sacred
+legacy?"
+
+He jumped right up on his feet, in his surprise, and kinder shook, as if
+he was skairt most to death, and tremblin' with borrow. He did it to skair
+me, I knew; and I wuz most skaird, I confess, he acted so horrowfied. But
+I knew I meant well towards the Constitution, and our old 4 fathers; and
+my principles stiddied me, and held me middlin' firm and serene. And when
+he asked me agin in tones full of awe and horrow,--
+
+"Can it be that I heard my ear aright? or did you speak of changing the
+unalterable laws of the United States--tampering with the Constitution?"
+
+Says I, "Yes, that is what I said."
+
+Oh, how his body kinder shook, and how sort o' wild he looked out of his
+eyes at me!
+
+Says I, "Hain't they never been changed?"
+
+He dropped that skairful look in a minute, and put on a firm, judicial
+one. He gin up; he could not skair me to death: and says he,--
+
+"Oh, yes! they have been changed in cases of necessity."
+
+Says I, "For instance, durin' the late war, it was changed to make
+Northern men cheap blood-hounds and hunters."
+
+"Yes," he said. "It seemed to be a case of necessity and econimy."
+
+"I know it," says I. "Men was cheaper than any other breed of blood-hounds
+the planters had employed to hunt men and wimmen with, and more faithful."
+
+"Yes," he said. "It was doubtless a case of clear econimy."
+
+And says I, "The laws have been changed to benifit whisky-dealers."
+
+"Wall, yes," he said. "It had been changed to enable whisky-dealers to
+utelize the surplufus liquor they import." Says he, gettin' kinder
+animated, for he was on a congenial theme,--
+
+"Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on how
+much whisky will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the whisky-
+dealers suffer loss, the laws had to be changed.
+
+[Illustration: A CASE OF NECESSITY.]
+
+"And then," says he, growin' still more candid in his excitement, "we are
+makin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the tax off
+of whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greater
+quantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of the
+nation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and the
+laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male
+custodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron before
+it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be, faithful
+unto death."
+
+Says I, "As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said I had
+convinced you that Dorlesky's errents wus errents of truth and justice,
+and you would love to do 'em."
+
+"Well, yes, yes--I would love to--as it were--But really, my dear madam,
+much as I would like to oblige you, I have not the time to devote to it.
+We senators and Congressmen are so driven, and hard-worked, that really we
+have no time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I don't think
+you realize the constant pressure of hard work, that is ageing us, and
+wearing us out, before our day.
+
+"As I said, we have to watch the liquor-interest constantly, to see that
+the liquor-dealers suffer no loss--we _have_ to do that. And then, we
+have to look sharp if we cut down the money for the Indian schools."
+
+Says I, in a sarcastick tone, "I s'pose you worked hard for that."
+
+"Yes," says he, in a sort of a proud tone. "We did, but we men don't
+begrudge labor if we can advance measures of economy. You see, it was
+taking sights of money just to Christianize and civilize Injuns--savages.
+Why, the idea was worse than useless, it wus perfectly ruinous to the
+Indian agents. For if, through those schools, the Indians had got to be
+self-supporting and intelligent and Christians, why, the agents couldn't
+buy their wives and daughters for a yard of calico, or get them drunk, and
+buy a horse for a glass bead, and a farm for a pocket lookin'-glass. Well,
+thank fortune, we carried that important measure through; we voted strong;
+we cut down the money anyway. And there is one revenue that is still
+accruing to the Government--or, as it were, the servants of Government,
+the agents. You see," says he, "don't you, just how important the subjects
+are, that are wearing down the Congressional and senatorial mind?"
+
+"Yes," says I sadly, "I see a good deal more than I want to."
+
+"Yes, you see how hard-worked we are. With all the care of the North on
+our minds, we have to clean out all the creeks in the South, so the
+planters can have smooth sailing. But we think," says he dreamily, "we
+think we have saved money enough out of the Indian schools, to clean out
+most of their creeks, and perhaps have a little left for a few New-York
+aldermen, to reward them for their arduous duties in drinking and voting
+for their constituents.
+
+"Then, there is the Mormons: we have to make soothing laws to sooth them.
+
+"Then, there are the Chinese. When we send them back into heathendom, we
+ought to send in the ship with them, some appropriate biblical texts, and
+some mottoes emblematical of our national eagle protecting and clawing the
+different nations.
+
+"And when we send the Irish paupers back into poverty and ignorance, we
+ought to send in the same ship, some resolutions condemning England for
+her treatment of Ireland."
+
+Says I, "Most probable the Goddess of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, in
+New-York Harbor, will hold her torch up high, to light such ships on their
+way."
+
+And he said, "Yes, he thought so." Says he, "There is very important laws
+up before the House, now, about hens' eggs--counting them." And says he,
+"Taking it with all those I have spoke of and other kindred laws, and the
+constant strain on our minds in trying to pass laws to increase our own
+salaries, you can see just how cramped we are for time. And though we
+would love to pass some laws of Truth and Righteousness,--we fairly ache
+to,--yet, not having the requisite time, we are obliged to lay 'em on the
+table, or under it."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I guess I might jest a well be a goin'."
+
+I bid him a cool good-bye, and started for the door. I was discouraged;
+but he says as I went out,--
+
+"Mebby William Wallace will do the errent for you."
+
+Says I coldly,--
+
+"William Wallace is dead, and you know it." And says I with a real lot of
+dignity, "You needn't try to impose on me, or Dorlesky's errent, by tryin'
+to send me round amongst them old Scottish chiefs. I respect them old
+chiefs, and always did; and I don't relish any light talk about 'em."
+
+Says he, "This is another William Wallace; and very probable he can do the
+errent."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I will send the errent to him by Bub Smith; for I am wore
+out."
+
+As I wended, my way out of Mr. Blains'es, I met the hired man, Bub Smith's
+friend; and he asked me,--
+
+"If I didn't want to visit the Capitol?"
+
+Says I, "Where the laws of the United States are made?"
+
+"Yes," says he.
+
+And I told him "that I was very weary, but I would fain behold it."
+
+And he said he was going right by there on business, and he would be glad
+to show it to me. So we walked along in that direction.
+
+It seems that Bub Smith saved the life of his little sister--jumped off
+into the water when she was most drowned, and dragged her out. And from
+that time the two families have thought the world of each other. That is
+what made him so awful good to me.
+
+Wall, I found the Capitol was a sight to behold! Why, it beat any buildin'
+in Jonesville, or Loontown, or Spoon Settlement in beauty and size and
+grandeur. There hain't one that can come nigh it. Why, take all the
+meetin'-housen of these various places, and put 'em all together, and put
+several other meetin'-housen on top of 'em, and they wouldn't begin to
+show off with it.
+
+And, oh! my land! to stand in the hall below, and look up--and up--and up
+--and see all the colors of the rainbow, and see what kinder curious and
+strange pictures there wuz way up there in the sky above me (as it were).
+Why, it seemed curiouser than any Northern lights I ever see in my life,
+and they stream up dretful curious sometimes.
+
+And as I walked through the various lofty and magnificent halls, and
+realized the size and majestic proportions of the buildin', I wondered to
+myself that a small law, a little, unjust law, could ever be passed in
+such a magnificent place.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA VIEWING THE CAPITOL.]
+
+Says I to myself, "It can't be the fault of the place, anyway. They have
+got a chance for their souls to soar if they want to." Thinks'es I, here
+is room and to spare, to pass by laws big as elephants and camels. And I
+wondered to myself that they should ever try to pass laws and resolutions
+as small as muskeeters and nats. Thinks'es I, I wonder them little laws
+don't get to strollin' round and get lost in them magnificent corriders.
+But I consoled myself a thinkin' that it wouldn't be no great loss if they
+did.
+
+But right here, as I was a thinkin' on these deep and lofty subjects, the
+hired man spoke up; and says he,--
+
+"You look fatigued, mom." (Soarin' even to yourself, is tuckerin'.) "You
+look very fatigued: won't you take something?"
+
+I looked at him with a curious, silent sort of a look; for I didn't know
+what he meant.
+
+Agin he looked close at me, and sort o' pityin'; and says he, "You look
+tired out, mom. Won't you take something?"
+
+Says I, "What?"
+
+Says he, "Let me treat you to something: what will you take, mom?"
+
+Wall, I thought he was actin' dretful liberal; but I knew they had strange
+ways there in Washington, anyway. And I didn't know but it was their way
+to make some presents to every woman who come there: and I didn't want to
+be odd, and act awkward, and out of style; so I says,--
+
+"I don't want to take any thing, and I don't see any reason why you should
+insist on it. But, if I have got to take something I had jest as lives
+have a few yards of factory-cloth as any thing."
+
+I thought, if he was determined to treat me, to show his good feelin's
+towards me, I would get somethin' useful, and that would do me some good,
+else what would be the use of bein' treated? And I thought, if I had got
+to take a present from a strange man, I would make a shirt for Josiah out
+of it: I thought that would make it all right, so fur as goodness went.
+
+But says he, "I mean beer, or wine, or liquor of some kind."
+
+I jest riz right up in my shoes and my dignity, and glared at him.
+
+Says he, "There is a saloon right here handy in the buildin'."
+
+Says I, in awful axents, "It is very appropriate to have it right here
+handy." Says I, "Liquor does more towards makin' the laws of the United
+States, from caucus to convention, than any thing else does; and it is
+highly proper to have some liquor here handy, so they can soak the laws in
+it right off, before they lay 'em onto the tables, or under 'em, or pass
+'em onto the people. It is highly appropriate," says I.
+
+"Yes," says he. "It is very handy for the senators. And let me get you a
+glass."
+
+"No, you won't," says I firmly, "no, you won't. The nation suffers enough
+from that room now, without havin' Josiah Allen's wife let in."
+
+Says he (his friendship for Bub Smith makin' him anxious and sot on
+helpin' me), "If you have any feeling of delicacy in going in there, let
+me make some wine here. I will get a glass of water, and make you some
+pure grape wine, or French brandy, or corn or rye whiskey. I have all the
+drugs right here." And he took out a little box out of his pocket. "My
+father is a importer of rare old wines, and I know just how it is done. I
+have 'em all here,--capiscum, coculus Indicus, alum, coperas, strychnine.
+I will make some of the choicest and purest imported liquors we have in
+the country, in five minutes, if you say so."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA REFUSING TO BE TREATED.]
+
+"No," says I firmly. "When I want to follow up Cleopatra's fashion, and
+commit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison as
+she did, on the outside."
+
+"Cleopatra?" says he inquiringly. "Is she a Washington lady?"
+
+And I says guardedly, "She has lots of relations here, I believe."
+
+"Wall," he said, "he thought her name sounded familiar. Then, I can't do
+any thing for you?" he says.
+
+"Yes," says I calmly: "you can open the front door, and let me out."
+
+Which he did, and I was glad enough to get out into the pure air.
+
+When I got back to the house, I found they had been to supper. Sally had
+had company that afternoon,--her husband's brother. He had jest left.
+
+He lived only a few miles away, and had come in on the cars. Sally said he
+wanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some deep
+arguments aginst wimmen's suffrage. Says she, "He talks powerful about it:
+he would have convinced you, without a doubt."
+
+"Wall," says I, "why didn't he stay?"
+
+She said he had to hurry home on account of business. He had come in to
+the village, to get some money. There was goin' to be a lot of men,
+wimmen, and children sold in his neighborhood the next mornin', and he
+thought he should buy a girl, if he could find a likely one.
+
+"Sold?" says I, in curious axents.
+
+"Yes," says Sally. "They sell the inmates of the poor-house, every year,
+to the highest bidder,--sell their labor by the year. They have 'em get up
+on a auction block, and hire a auctioneer, and sell 'em at so much a head,
+to the crowd. Why, some of 'em bring as high as twenty dollars a year,
+besides board.
+
+[Illustration: BUYING TIME.]
+
+"Sometimes, he said, there was quite a run on old wimmen, and another year
+on young ones. He didn't know but he might buy a old woman. He said there
+was an old woman that he thought there was a good deal of work in, yet.
+She had belonged to one of the first families in the State, and had come
+down to poverty late in life, through the death of some of her relations,
+and the villany of others. So he thought she had more strength in her than
+if she had always been worked. He thought, if she didn't fetch too big a
+price, he should buy her instead of a young one. They was so balky, he
+said, young ones was, and would need more to eat, bein' growin'. And she
+could do rough, heavy work, just as well as a younger one, and probably
+wouldn't complain so much; and he thought she would last a year, anyway.
+It was his way, he said, to put 'em right through, and, when one wore out,
+get another one."
+
+I sithed; and says I, "I feel to lament that I wuzn't here so's he could
+have converted me." Says I, "A race of bein's, that make such laws as
+these, hadn't ort to be disturbed by wimmen meddlin' with 'em."
+
+"Yes: that is what he said," says Sally, in a innocent way.
+
+I didn't say no more. Good land! Sally hain't to blame. But with a noble
+scorn filling my eye, and floating out the strings of my head-dress, I
+moved off to bed.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I sent Dorlesky's errents by Bub Smith to William
+Wallace, for I felt a good deal fagged out. Bub did 'em well, and I know
+it.
+
+But William Wallace sent him to Gen. Logan.
+
+And Gen. Logan said Grover Cleveland was the one to go to: he wuz a sot
+man, and would do as he agreed. And Mr. Cleveland sent him to Mr. Edmunds.
+
+And Mr. Edmunds told him to go to Samuel G. Tilden, or Roswell P. Flower.
+
+And Mr. Flower sent him to William Walter Phelps.
+
+And Mr. Phelps said that Benjamin P. Butler or Mr. Bayard was the one to
+do the errent.
+
+And Mr. Bayard sent him to somebody else, and somebody else sent him to
+another one. And so it went on; and Bub Smith traipsed round, a carryin'
+them errents, from one man to another, till he was most dead.
+
+Why, he carried them errents round all day, walkin' afoot.
+
+Bub said most every one of 'em said the errents wuz just and right, but
+they couldn't do 'em, and wouldn't tell their reasons.
+
+One or two, Bub said, opposed it, because they said right out plain, "that
+they wanted to drink. They wanted to drink every thing they could, and
+everywhere they could,--hard cider and beer, and brandy and whisky, and
+every thing."
+
+And they didn't want wimmen to vote, because they liked to have the power
+in their own hands: they loved to control things, and kinder boss round--
+loved to dearly.
+
+These was open-hearted men who spoke as they felt. But they was
+exceptions. Most every one of 'em said they couldn't do it, and wouldn't
+tell their reasons.
+
+Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein' a
+little in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the reasons
+why the senators wouldn't do the errents.
+
+He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was right
+and just, to their own souls and their own country. He said--for the
+liquor had made him _very_ open-hearted and talkative--that they knew
+the course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime against
+God and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle unpopular
+subjects.
+
+He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them, and
+they knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of thousands
+and thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for 'em from
+morn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And if wimmen
+was allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as breaking the
+ring right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though they knew that
+both the errents was jest as right as right could be, they dassent tackle
+'em, for fear they wouldn't run no chance at all of bein' President of the
+United States.
+
+"Good land!" says I. "What a idee! to think that doin' right would make a
+man unpopular. But," says I, "I am glad to know they have got a reason, if
+it is a poor one. I didn't know but they sent you round jest to be mean."
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I told Bub to carry the errents right into the
+Senate. Says I, "You have took 'em one by one, alone, now you jest carry
+'em before the hull batch on 'em together." I told him to tackle the hull
+crew on 'em. So he jest walked right into the Senate, a carryin'
+Dorlesky's errents.
+
+And he come back skairt. He said, jest as he was a carryin' Dorlesky's
+errents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen on
+this very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful, to
+the lawmakers of the land.
+
+And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, and
+called it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you ever
+heard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted so
+haughty and overbearin' towards it, that Bub said he was afraid to tackle
+'em. He said "he knew they would throw Dorlesky's errents under the table,
+and he was afraid they would throw him under too." He was afraid--(he
+owned it up to me)--he was afraid they would knock him down. So he backed
+out with Dorlesky's errents, and never give it to 'em at all.
+
+And I told him he did right. "For," says I, "if they wouldn't listen to
+the deepest, most earnest, and most prayerful words that could come from
+the hearts of thousands and tens of thousands of the best mothers and
+wives and daughters in America, the most intelligent and upright and pure-
+minded women in the land, loaded down with their hopes, wet with their
+tears--if they turned their hearts', prayers and deepest desires into
+ridicule, throwed 'em round under their feet, they wouldn't pay no
+attention to Dorlesky's errents, they wouldn't notice one little vegitable
+widow, humbly at that, and sort o' disagreeable." And says I, "I don't
+want Dorlesky's errents throwed round under foot, and she made fun of: she
+has went through enough trials and tribulations, besides these gentlemen--
+or," says I, "I beg pardon of Webster's Dictionary: I meant men."
+
+"For," as I said to Webster's Dictionary in confidence, in a quiet thought
+we had about it afterwards, "they might be gentlemen in every other place
+on earth; but in this one move of theirn," as I observed confidentially to
+the Dictionary, "they was jest _men_--the male animal of the human
+species."
+
+And I was ashamed enough as I looked Noah Webster's steel engraving in the
+face, to think I had misspoke myself, and called 'em gentlemen.
+
+[Illustration: HOW WOMAN'S PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED.]
+
+Wall, from that minute I gin up doin' Dorlesky's errents. And I felt like
+death about it. But this thought held me up,--that I had done my best. But
+I didn't feel like doin' another thing all the rest of that day, only jest
+feel disapinted and grieved over my bad luck with the errents. I always
+think it is best, if you can possibly arrainge it in that way, to give up
+one day, or half a day, to feelin' bad over any perticuler disapintment,
+or to worry about any thing, and do all your worryin' up in that time, and
+then give it up for good, and go to feelin' happy agin. It is also best,
+if you have had a hull lot of things to get mad about, to set apart half a
+day, when you can spare the time, and do up all your resentin' in that
+time. It is easier, and takes less time than to keep resentin' 'em as they
+take place; and you can feel clever quicker than in the common way.
+
+Wall, I felt dretful bad for Dorlesky and the hull wimmen race of the
+land, and for the men too. And I kep' up my bad feelin's till pretty nigh
+dusk. But as I see the sun go down, and the sky grow dark, I says,--
+
+"You are goin' down now, but you are a comin' up agin. As sure as the Lord
+lives, the sun will shine agin; and He who holds you in His hand, holds
+the destinies of the nations. He will watch over you, and me and Josiah,
+and Dorlesky. He will help us, and take care of us."
+
+So I begun to feel real well agin--a little after dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+The next morning Cicely wuzn't able to leave her room,--no sick seemin'ly,
+but fagged out. She was a delicate little creeter always, and seemed to
+grow delicater every day.
+
+So Miss Smith went with me, and she and I sallied out alone: her name
+bein' Sally, too, made it seem more singuler and coincidin'.
+
+She asked me if I didn't want to go to the Patent Office.
+
+And I told her, "Yes," And I told her of Betsy Bobbet's errent, and that
+Josiah had charged me expresly to go there, and get him a patent pail. He
+needed a new milk-pail, and thought I could get it cheaper right on the
+spot.
+
+And she said that Josiah couldn't buy his pail there. But she told me what
+sights and sights of things there wus to be seen there; and I found out
+when I got there, that she hadn't told me the 1/2 or the 1/4 of the sights
+I see.
+
+Why, I could pass a month there in perfect destraction and happiness, the
+sights are so numerous, and exceedingly destractin' and curious.
+
+But I told Sally Smith plainly, that I wasn't half so much interested in
+apple-parers and snow-plows, and the first sewin'-machine and the last
+one, and steam-engines and hair-pins and pianos and thimbles, and the
+acres and acres of glass cases containing every thing that wus ever heard
+of, and every thing that never wus heard of by anybody, and etcetery,
+etcetery, and so 4th, and so 4th. And you might string them words out over
+choirs and choirs of paper, and not get half an idee of what is to be seen
+there.
+
+But I told her I didn't feel half so interested in them things as I did in
+the copyright. I told Sally plain "that I wanted to see the place where
+the copyrights on books was made. And I wanted to see the man who made
+'em."
+
+And she asked me "Why? What made me so anxious?"
+
+And I told her "the law was so curious, that I believed it would be the
+curiousest place, and he would be the curiousest lookin' creeter, that wuz
+ever seen." Says I, "I'll bet it will be better than a circus to see him."
+
+But it wuzn't. He looked jest like any man. And he had a sort of a smart
+look onto him. Sally said "it was one of the clerks," but I don't believe
+a word of it. I believe it was the man himself, who made the law; for, as
+in all other emergincies of life, I follered Duty, and asked him "to
+change the law instantly."
+
+And he as good as promised me he would.
+
+I talked deep to him about it, but short. I told him Josiah had bought a
+mair, and he expected to own it till he or the mair died. He didn't expect
+to give up his right to it, and let the mair canter off free at a stated
+time.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND SALLY IN THE PATENT OFFICE.]
+
+And he asked me "Who Josiah was?" and I told him.
+
+And I told him that "Josiah's farm run along one side of a pond; and if
+one of his sheep got over on the other side, it was sheep jest the same,
+and it was hisen jest the same: he didn't lose the right to it, because it
+happened to cross the pond."
+
+Says he, "There would be better laws regarding copyright, if it wuzn't for
+selfishness on both sides of the pond."
+
+"Wall," says I, "selfishness don't pay in the long-run." And then,
+thinkin' mebby if I made myself agreable and entertainin', he would change
+the law quicker, I made a effort, and related a little interestin'
+incident that I had seen take place jest before my former departure from
+Jonesville, on a tower.
+
+"No, selfishness don't pay. I have seen it tried, and I know. Now, Bildad
+Henzy married a wife on a speculation. She was a one-legged woman. He was
+attached at the time to a woman with the usual number of feet; but he was
+so close a calculator, that he thought it would be money in his pocket to
+marry this one, for he wouldn't have to buy but one shoe and stockin'. But
+she had to jump round on that one foot, and step heavy; so she wore out
+more shoes than she would if she was two-footed." Says I, "Selfishness
+don't pay in private life or in politics."
+
+And he said "He thought jest so," and he jest about the same as promised
+me he would change the law.
+
+I hope he will. It makes me feel so strange every time I think out, as
+strange as strange can be.
+
+Why, I told Sally after we went out, and I spoke about "the man lookin'
+human, and jest like anybody else;" and she said "it was a clerk;" and I
+said "I knew better, I knew it was the man himself."
+
+And says I agin, "It beats all, how anybody in human shape can make such a
+law as that copyright law."
+
+And she said "that was so." But I knew by her mean, that she didn't
+understand a thing about it; and I knew it would make me so sort o' light-
+headed and vacant if I went to explain it to her, that I never said a
+word, and fell in at once with her proposal that we should go and see the
+Treasury, and the Corcoran Art Gallery, and the Smithsonian Institute, one
+at a time.
+
+And I found the Treasury wuz a sight to behold. Such sights and sights of
+money they are makin' there, and a countin'. Why, I s'pose they make more
+money there in a week, than Josiah and I spend in a year.
+
+I s'pose most probable they made it a little faster, and more of it, on
+account of my bein' there. But they have sights and sights of it. They are
+dretful well off.
+
+I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too,--I hain't one of the
+underhanded kind,--I asked her, "If she s'posed they'd let us take hold
+and make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin' over
+with it, there."
+
+And she said, "No, private citizens couldn't do that."
+
+Says I, "Who can?"
+
+She kinder whispered back in a skairt way, sunthin' about "speculators and
+legislators and rings, and etcetery."
+
+But I answered right out loud,--I hain't one to go whisperin' round,--and
+says I,--
+
+"I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had for
+him, he'd hand out a few dollars of his own accord for me to get sunthin'
+to remember him by. Howsumever, I don't need nor want any of his money. I
+hain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over fourteen dollars by
+me, at this present time, egg-money."
+
+But it was a sight to behold, to see 'em make it.
+
+And then, as we stood out on the sidewalk agin, the Smithsonian Institute
+passed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery passed through
+it, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em pass; and I says
+to Sally,--
+
+"Let us go at once and see the man that makes the public schools." Says I,
+"There is a man that I honor, and almost love."
+
+And she said she didn't know who it wuz.
+
+But I think it was the lamb that she had in a bakin', that drew her back
+towards home. She owned up that her hired girl didn't baste it enough.
+
+And she seemed oneasy.
+
+But I stood firm, and says, "I shall see that man, lamb or no lamb."
+
+And then Sally give in. And she found him easy enough. She knew all the
+time, it was the sheep that hampered her.
+
+And, oh! I s'pose it was a sight to be remembered, to see my talk to that
+man. I s'pose, if it had been printed, it would have made a beautiful
+track--and lengthy.
+
+Why, he looked fairly exhausted and cross before I got half through, I
+talked so smart (eloquence is tuckerin').
+
+I told him how our public schools was the hope of the nation. How they
+neutralized to a certain extent the other schools the nation allowed to
+the public,--the grog-shops, and other licensed places of ruin. I told him
+how pretty it looked to me to see Civilization a marchin' along from the
+Atlantic towards the Pacific, with a spellin'-book in one hand, and in the
+other the rosy, which she was a plantin' in place of the briars and
+brambles.
+
+And I told him how highly I approved of compulsory education.
+
+"Why," says I, "if anybody is a drowndin', you don't ask their consent to
+be drawed out of the water, you jest jump in, and yank 'em out. And when
+you see poor little ones, a sinkin' down in the deep waters of ignorance
+and brutality, why, jest let Uncle Sam reach right down, and draw 'em
+out." Says I, "I'll bet that is why he is pictered as havin' such long
+arms for, and long legs too,--so he can wade in if the water is deep, and
+they are too fur from the shore for his arms to reach."
+
+And says I, "In the case of the little Indian, and other colored children,
+he'll need the legs of a stork, the water is so deep round 'em. But he'll
+reach 'em, Uncle Sam will. He'll lift 'em right up in his long arms, and
+set 'em safe on the pleasant shore. You'll see that he will. Uncle Sam is
+a man of a thousand."
+
+Says I, "How much it wus like him, to pass that law for children to be
+learnt jest what whisky is, and what it will do. Why," says I, "in that
+very law Christianity has took a longer stride than she could take by
+millions of sermons, all divided off into tenthlies and twentiethlies."
+
+Why, I s'pose I talked perfectly beautiful to that man: I s'pose so.
+
+And if he hadn't had a sudden engagement to go out, I should have talked
+longer. But I see his engagement wus a wearin' on him. His eyes looked
+fairly wild. I only give a bald idee of what I said. I have only give the
+heads of my discussion to him, jest the bald heads.
+
+Wall, after we left there, I told Sally I felt as if I must go and see the
+Peace Commission. I felt as if I must make some arrangements with 'em to
+not have any more wars. As I told Sally, "We might jest as well call
+ourselves Injuns and savages at once, if we had to keep up this most
+savage and brutal trait of theirn." Says I firmly, "I _must_, before
+I go back to Jonesville, tend to it." Says I, "I didn't come here for
+fashion, or dry-goods; though I s'pose lots of both of 'em are to be got
+here." Says I, "I may tend to one or two fashionable parties, or levys as
+I s'pose they call 'em here. I may go to 'em ruther than hurt the feelin's
+of the upper 10. I want to do right: I don't want to hurt the feelin's of
+them 10. They have hearts, and they are sensitive. I don't think I have
+ever took to them 10, as much as I have to some others; but I wish 'em
+well.
+
+"And I s'pose you see as grand and curious people to their parties here,
+as you can see together in any other place on the globe.
+
+"I s'pose it is a sight to behold, to see 'em together. To see them, as
+the poet says, 'To the manner born,' and them that wasn't born in the same
+manor, but tryin' to act as if they was. Wealth and display, natural
+courtesy and refinement, walkin' side by side with pretentius vulgarity,
+and mebby poverty bringin' up the rear. Genius and folly, honesty and
+affectation, gentleness and sweetness, and brazen impudence, and hatred
+and malice, and envy and uncharitableness. All languages and peoples under
+the sun, and differing more than stars ever did, one from another.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA AT THE PRESIDENT'S RECEPTION.]
+
+"And what makes it more curious and mysterius is, the way they dress, some
+on 'em. Why, they say--it has come right straight to me by them that know
+--that the ladies wear what they call full dress; and the strange and
+mysterius part of it is, that the fuller the dress is, the less they have
+on 'em.
+
+"This is a deep subject, and queer; and I don't s'pose you will take my
+word for it, and I don't want you to. But I have been _told_ so.
+
+"Why, I s'pose them upper 10 have their hands full, their 20 hands
+completely full. I fairly pity 'em--the hull 10 of 'em. They want me, and
+they need me, I s'pose, and I must tend to some of 'em.
+
+"And then," says I, "I did calculate to pay some attention to store-
+clothes. I did want to get me a new calico dress,--London brown with a set
+flower on it. But I can do without that dress, and the upper 10 can do
+without me, better than the Nation can do without Peace."
+
+I felt as if I must tend to it: I fairly hankered to do away with war,
+immejiately and to once. But I knew right was right, and I felt that Sally
+ort to be let to tend to her lamb; so Sally and I sallied homewards.
+
+But the hired girl had tended to it well. It wus good--very good.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Wall, the next mornin' Cicely wus better, and we sot sail for Mount
+Vernon. It was about ten o'clock A.M. when I, accompanied by Cicely and
+the boy, sot sail from Washington, D.C., to perform about the ostensible
+reason of my tower,--to weep on the tomb of the noble G. Washington.
+
+My intentions had been and wuz, to weep for him on my tower. I had come
+prepared. 2 linen handkerchiefs and a large cotton one reposed in the
+pocket of my polenay, and I had on my new waterproof. I never do things by
+the 1/2s.
+
+It was a beautiful seen, as we floated down the still river, to look back
+and see the Capitol risin' white and fair like a dream, the glitterin'
+snow of the monument, and the green heights, all bathed in the glory of
+that perfect May mornin'. It wuz a fair seen.
+
+Happy groups of people sot on the peaceful decks,--stately gentlemen,
+handsome ladies, and pretty children. And in one corner, off kinder by
+themselves, sot that band of dusky singers, whose songs have delighted the
+world. Modest, good-lookin' dark girls, manly, honest-lookin' dark boys.
+
+Only a few short years ago this black people was drove about like dumb
+cattle,--bought and sold, hunted by blood-hounds; the wimmen hunted to
+infamy and ruin, the men to torture and to death. The wimmen denied the
+first right of womanhood, to keep themselves pure. The men denied the
+first right of manhood, to protect the ones they loved. Deprived legally
+of purity and honor, and all the rights of commonest humanity--worn with
+unpaid toil, beaten, whipped, tortured, dispised and rejected of men.
+
+[Illustration: GOING TO MOUNT VERNON.]
+
+Now, a few short years have passed over this dark race, and these children
+of slaves that I looked upon have been guests of the proudest and noblest
+in this and in foreign lands. Hands that hold the destinies of mighty
+empires have clasped theirs in frankest friendship, and crowned heads have
+bowed low before 'em to hide the tears their sweet voices have called
+forth. What feelin's I felt as I looked on 'em! and my soul burned inside
+of me, almost to the extent of settin' my polenay on fire, a thinkin' of
+all this.
+
+And pretty soon, right when I was a reveryin'--right there, when we wuz a
+floatin' clown the still waters, their voices riz up in one of their
+inspired songs. They sung about their "Hard Trials," and how the "Sweet
+Chariot swung low," and how they had "Been Redeemed."
+
+And I declare for't, as I listened to 'em, there wuzn't a dry eye in my
+head; and I wet every one of them 3 handkerchiefs that I had calculated to
+mourn for G. Washington on, wet as sop. But I didn't care. I knew that
+George had rather not be mourned for on dry handkerchiefs, than that I
+should stent myself in emotions in such a time as this. He loved Liberty
+himself, and fit for it. And anyway, I didn't sense what I was a doin',
+not a mite. I took out them handkerchiefs entirely unbeknown to me, and
+put 'em back unbeknown.
+
+The words of them songs hain't got hardly any sense, as we earthly bein's
+count sense; there are scores of great singers, whose trained voices are a
+hundred-fold more melodious: but these simple strains move us, thrill us;
+they jest get right inside of our hearts and souls, and take full
+possession of us.
+
+It seems as if nothin' human of so little importance could so move us. Is
+it God's voice that speaks to us through them? Is it His Spirit that lifts
+us up, sways us to and fro, that blows upon us, as we listen to their
+voices? The Spirit that come down to cheer them broken hearts, lift them
+up in their captivity, does it now sway and melt the hearts of their
+captors? We read of One who watches over His sorrowing, wronged people,
+givin' them "songs in the night."
+
+Anon, or nearly at that time, a silver bell struck out a sweet sort of a
+mournful note; and we jest stood right in towards the shore, and
+disembarked from the bark.
+
+We clomb the long hill, and stood on top, with powerful emotions (but
+little or no breath); stood before the iron bars that guarded the tomb of
+George Washington, and Martha his wife.
+
+I looked at the marble coffin that tried to hold George, and felt how vain
+it wuz to think that any tomb could hold him. That peaceful, tree-covered
+hill couldn't hold his tomb. Why, it wuz lifted up in every land that
+loved freedom. The hull liberty-lovin' earth wuz his tomb and his
+monument.
+
+And that great river flowin' on and on at his feet--as long as that river
+rolls, George Washington shall float on it, he and his faithful Martha. It
+shall bear him to the sea and the ocian, and abroad to every land.
+
+Oh! what feelin's I felt as I stood there a reveryin', my body still, but
+my mind proudly soarin'! To think, he wuz our Washington, and that time
+couldn't kill him. For he shall walk through the long centuries to come.
+He shall bear to the high chamber of prince and ruler, memories that shall
+blossom into deeds, awaken souls, rouse powers that shall never die, that
+shall scatter blessings over lands afar, strike the fetters from slave and
+serf.
+
+The hands they folded over his peaceful breast so many years ago, are not
+lying there in that marble coffin: the calm blue eyes closed so many years
+ago, are still lookin' into souls. Those hands lift the low walls of the
+poor boy's chamber, as he reads of victory over tyranny, of conquerin'
+discouragement and defeat.
+
+[Illustration: BEFORE THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+The low walls fade away; the dusky rafters part to admit the infinite,
+infinite longin's to do and dare, infinite resolves to emulate those deeds
+of valor and heroism. How the calm blue eyes look down into the boy's
+impassioned soul, how the shadowy hands beckon him upward, up the rocky
+heights of noble endeavor, noble deeds! How the inspiration of this life,
+these deeds of might and valor, nerve the young heart for future strivings
+for freedom and justice and truth!
+
+Is it not a blessed thing to thus live on forever in true, eager hearts,
+to nerve the hero's arm, to inspire deeds of courage and daring? The weary
+body may rest; but to do this, is surely not to die; no, it is to live, to
+be immortal, to thus become the beating heart, the living, struggling,
+daring soul of the future.
+
+And right while I was thinkin' these thoughts, and lookin' off over the
+still landscape, the peaceful waters, this band of dark singers stood with
+reverent faces and uncovered heads, and begun singin' one of their
+sweetest melodies,--
+
+"He rose, he rose, he rose from the dead."
+
+Oh! as them inspired, hantin' notes rose through the soft, listenin' air,
+and hanted me, walked right round inside my heart and soul, and inspired
+me--why! how many emotions I did have,--more'n 85 a minute right along!
+
+As I thought of how many times since the asscension of our Lord, tombs
+have opened, and the dead come forth alive; how Faith and Justice will
+triumph in the end; how you can't bury 'em deep enough, or roll a stun big
+enough and hard enough before the door, but what, in some calm mornin',
+the earliest watcher shall see a tall, fair angel standin' where the dead
+has lain, bearin' the message of the risen Lord, "He rose from the dead."
+
+I thought how George W. and our other old 4 fathers thought in the long,
+toilsome, weary hours before the dawnin', that fair Freedom was dead; but
+she rose, she rose.
+
+I thought how the dusky race whose sweet songs was a floatin' round the
+grave of him who loved freedom, and gave his life for it; I thought how,
+durin' the dreary time when they was captives in a strange land, chained,
+scourged, and tortured, how they thought, through this long, long night of
+years, that Justice was dead, and Mercy and Pity and Righteousness.
+
+But there come a glorious mornin' when fathers and mothers clasped their
+children in their arms, their own once more, in arms that was their own,
+to labor and protect, and they sung together of Freedom and Right, how
+though they wuz buried deep, and the night wuz long, and the watchers by
+the tomb weary, weary unto death, yet they rose, they rose from the dead.
+
+And then I thought of the tombs that darken our land to-day, where the
+murdered, the legally murdered, lay buried. I thought of the graves more
+hopeless fur than them that entomb the dead,--the graves where lay the
+livin' dead. Dead souls bound to still breathin' bodies, dead hopes,
+ambitions, dead dreams of usefulness and respectability, happiness, dead
+purity, faith, honor, dead, all dead, all bound to the still breathin'
+body, by the festerin', putrid death-robes of helplessness and despair.
+
+There they lie chained to their dark tombs by links slight at first, but
+twisted by the hard old fingers of blind habit, to chains of iron, chains
+linked about, and eatin' into, not only the quiverin' flesh, but the
+frenzied brains, the hope less hearts, the ruined souls.
+
+Heavy, hopeless-lookin' vaults they are indeed, whose air is putrid with
+the sickenin' miasma of moral loathsomness and deseese; whose walls are
+painted with hideous pictures of murder, rapine, lust, starvation, woe,
+and despair, earthly and eternal ruin. Shapes of the dreadful past, the
+hopeless future, that these livin' dead stare upon with broodin' frenzy by
+night and by day.
+
+Oh the tombs, the countless, countless tombs, where lie these breathin'
+corpses! How mothers weep over them! how wives kneel, and beat their
+hearts out on the rocky barriers that separate them from their hearts'
+love, their hearts' desire! How little starvin', naked children cower in
+their ghostly shadows through dark midnights! How fathers weep for their
+children, dead to them, dead to honor, to shame, to humanity! How the
+cries of the mourners ascend to the sweet heavens!
+
+And less peaceful than the graves of the departed, these tombs themselves
+are full of the hopeless cries of the entombed, praying for help, praying
+for some strong hand to reach down and lift them out of their reeking,
+polluted, living death.
+
+The whole of our fair land is covered with jest such graves: its turf is
+tread down by the footprints of the mourners who go about the streets.
+They pray, they weep: the night is long, is long. But the morning will
+dawn at last.
+
+And the women,--daughters, wives, mothers,--who kneel with clasped hands
+beside the tombs, heaviest-eyed, deepest mourners, because most helpless.
+Lift up your heavy eyes: the sun is even now rising, that shall gild the
+sky at last. The mornin' light is even now dawnin' in the east. It shall
+fall first upon your uplifted brows, your prayerful eyes. Most blessed of
+God, because you loved most, sorrowed most. To you shall it be given to
+behold first the tall, fair angel of Resurection and Redemption, standin'
+at the grave's mouth. Into your hands shall he put the key to unlock the
+heavy doors, where your loved has lain.
+
+The dead shall rise. Temperance and Justice and Liberty shall rise. They
+shall go forth to bless our fair land. And purified and enobled, it shall
+be the best beloved, the fairest land of God beneath the sun. Refuge of
+the oppressed and tempted, inspiration of the hopeless, light of the
+world.
+
+And free mothers shall clasp their free children to their hearts; and
+fathers and mothers and children shall join in one heavenly strain, song
+of freedom and of truth. And the nations shall listen to hear how "they
+rose, they rose, they rose from the dead."
+
+As the tones of the sweet hymn died on the soft air, and the blessed
+vision passed with it; when I come down onto my feet,--for truly, I had
+been lifted up, and by the side of myself,--Cicely was standin' with her
+brown eyes lookin' over the waters, holdin' the hand of the boy; and I see
+every thing that the song did or could mean, in the depths of her deep,
+prophetic eyes. Sad eyes, too, they was, and discouraged; for the morning
+wus fur away--and--and the boy wus pullin' at her hand, eager to get away
+from where he wus.
+
+The boy led us; and we follered him up the gradual hill to the old
+homestead of Washington, Mount Vernon.
+
+Lookin' down from the broad, high porch, you can look directly down
+through the trees into the river. The water calm and sort o' golden,
+through the green of the trees, and every thing looked peaceful and
+serene.
+
+There are lots of interestin' things to be seen here,--the tombs of the
+rest of the Washington family; the key of the Bastile, covered with the
+blood and misery of a foreign land; the tree that carries us back in
+memory to his grave, where he rests quietly, who disturbed the sleep of
+empires and kingdoms; the furniture of Washington and his family,--the
+chairs they sot in, the tables they sot at, and the rooms where they sot;
+the harpiscord, that Nelly Custis and Mrs. G. Washington harpiscorded on.
+
+But she whose name wus once Smith longed to see somethin' else fur more.
+What wus it?
+
+It wus not the great drawin'-rooms, the guest-chambers, the halls, the
+grounds, the live-stock, nor the pictures, nor the flowers.
+
+No: it wus the old garret of the mansion, the low old garret, where she
+sot, our Lady Washington, in her widowed dignity, with no other fire only
+the light of deathless love that lights palace or hovel,--sot there in the
+window, because she could look out from it upon the tomb of her mighty
+dead.
+
+Sot lookin' out upon the river that wus sweepin' along under sun and moon,
+bearing on every wave and ripple the glory and beauty of his name.
+
+Bearing it away from her mebby, she would sometimes sadly think, as she
+thought of happy days gone by; for though souls may soar, hearts will
+cling. And sometimes storms would vex the river's unquiet breast; and
+mebby the waves would whisper to her lovin' heart, "Never more, never
+more."
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD HOME OF WASHINGTON.]
+
+As she sot there looking out, waiting for that other river, whose waves
+crept nearer and nearer to her feet,--that other river, on which her soul
+should sail away to meet her glorious dead; that river which whispers
+"Forever, forever;" that river which is never unquiet, and whose waves are
+murmuring of nothing less beautiful than of meeting, of love, and of
+lasting repose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+When we got back from Mount Vernon, and entered our boardin'-house, Cicely
+went right up to her room. But I, feelin' kinder beat out (eloquent
+emotions are very tuckerin' on a tower), thought I would set down a few
+minutes in the parlor to rest, before I mounted up the stairs to my room.
+
+But truly, as it turned out, I had better have gone right up, breath or no
+breath.
+
+For, while I was a settin' there, a tall, sepulchral lookin' female, that
+I had noticed at the breakfast-table, come up to me; and says she,--
+
+"I beg your pardon, mom, but I believe you are the noble and eloquent
+Josiah Allen's wife, and I believe you are a stoppin' here."
+
+Says I calmly, "I hain't a stoppin'--I am stopped, as it were, for a few
+days."
+
+"Wall," says she, "a friend of mine is comin' to-night, to my room, No.
+17, to give a private seansy. And knowin' you are a great case to
+investigate into truths, I thought mebby you would love to come, and
+witness some of our glorious spirit manifestations."
+
+I thanked her for her kindness, but told her "I guessed I wouldn't go. I
+didn't seem to be sufferin' for a seancy."
+
+"Oh!" says she: "it is wonderful, wonderful to see. Why, we will tie the
+medium up, and he will ontie himself."
+
+"Oh!" says I. "I have seen that done, time and agin. I used to tie Thomas
+J. up when he was little, and naughty; and he would, in spite of me, ontie
+himself, and get away."
+
+"Who is Thomas J.?" says she.
+
+"Josiah's child by his first wife," says I.
+
+"Wall," says she, "if we have a good circle, and the conditions are
+favorable, the spirits will materialize,--come before us with a body."
+
+"Oh!" says I. "I have seen that. Thomas J. used to dress up as a ghost,
+and appear to us. But he didn't seem to think the conditions wus so
+favorable, and he didn't seem to appear so much, after his father ketched
+him at it, and give him a good whippin'." And says I firmly, "I guess that
+would be about the way with your ghosts."
+
+And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o' pitiful,--to
+go to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my remark, for she
+seemed to be a gazin' upward in a sort of a muse; and she says,--
+
+"Oh! would you not like to talk with your departed kindred?"
+
+"Wall, yes," says I firmly, after a minute's thought. "I would like to."
+
+"Come to-night to our seansy, and we will call 'em, and you shall talk
+with 'em."
+
+"Wall," says I candidly, "to tell the truth, bein' only wimmen present,
+I'll tell you, I have got to mend my petticoat to-night. My errents have
+took me round to such a extent, that it has got all frayed out round the
+bottom, and I have got to mend the fray. But, if any of my kindred are
+there, you jest mention it to 'em that she that wuz Samantha Smith is
+stopped at No. 16, and, if perfectly convenient, would love to see 'em. I
+can explain it to 'em," says I, "bein' all in the family, why I couldn't
+leave my room."
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON S GHOST.]
+
+Says she, "You are makin' fun: you don't believe they will be there, do
+you?"
+
+"Wall, to be honest with you, it looks dubersome to me. It does seem to
+me, that if my father or mother sot out from the other world, and come
+down to this boardin'-house, to No. 17, they would know, without havin' to
+be told, that I was in the next room to 'em; and they wouldn't want to
+stay with a passel of indifferent strangers, when their own child was so
+near."
+
+"You don't believe in the glorious manifestations of our seansys?" says
+she.
+
+"Wall, to tell you the plain truth, I don't seem to believe 'em to any
+great extent. I believe, if God wants to speak to a human soul below, He
+can, without any of your performances and foolishness; and when I say
+performences and when I say foolishness, I say 'em in very polite ways:
+and I don't want to hurt anybody's feelin's by sayin' things hain't so,
+but I simply state my belief."
+
+"Don't you believe in the communion of saints? Don't you believe God ever
+reveals himself to man?"
+
+"Yes, I do! I believe that now, as in the past, the pure in heart shall
+see God. Why, heaven is over all, and pretty nigh to some."
+
+And I thought of Cicely, and couldn't help it.
+
+"I believe there are pure souls, especially when they are near to the
+other world, who can look in, and behold its beauty. Why, it hain't but a
+little ways from here,--it can't be, sense a breath of air will blow us
+into it. It takes sights of preparation to get ready to go, but it is only
+a short sail there. And you may go all over the land from house to house,
+and you will hear in almost every one of some dear friend who died with
+their faces lit up with the glow of the light shinin' from some one of the
+many mansions,--the dear home-light of the fatherland; died speakin' to
+some loved one, gone before. But I don't believe you can coax that light,
+and them voices, down into a cabinet, and let 'em shine and speak, at so
+much an evenin'."
+
+"I thought," says she bitterly, "that you was one who never condemned any
+thing that you hadn't thoroughly investigated."
+
+"I don't," says I. "I don't condemn nothin' nor nobody. I only tell my
+mind. I don't say there hain't no truth in it, because I don't know; and
+that is one of the best reasons in the world for not sayin' a thing hain't
+so. When you think how big a country the land of Truth is, and how many
+great unexplored regions lay in it, why should Josiah Allen's wife stand
+and lean up aginst a tree on the outmost edge of the frontier, and say
+what duz and what duzn't lay hid in them mysterius and beautiful regions
+that happier eyes than hern shall yet look into?
+
+"No: the great future is the fulfillment of the prophecies, and blind
+gropin's of the present; and it is not for me, nor Josiah, nor anybody
+else, to talk too positive about what we hain't seen, and don't know.
+
+"No: nor I hain't one to say it is the Devil's work, not claimin' such a
+close acquaintance with the gentleman named, as some do, who profess to
+know all his little social eccentricities. But I simply say, and say
+honest, that I hain't felt no drawin's towards seancys, nor felt like
+follerin' 'em up. But I am perfectly willin' you should have your own
+idees, and foller 'em."
+
+"Do you believe angels have appeared to men?"
+
+"Yes, mom, I do. But I never heard of a angel bein' stanchelled up in a
+box-stall, and let out of it agin at stated times, like a yearlin' colt.
+(Excuse my metafor, mom, I am country bred and born.) And no angel that I
+ever heard on, has been harnessed and tackled up with any ropes or strings
+whatsoever. No! whenever we hear of angels appearin' to men, they have
+flown down, white-winged and radiant, right out of the heavens, which is
+their home, and appeared to men, entirely unbeknown to them. That is the
+way they appeared to the shephards at Bethlahem, to the disciples on the
+mountain, to the women at the tomb."
+
+"Don't you believe they could come jest as well now?"
+
+"I don't say they couldn't. There is no place in the Bible, that I know
+of, where it says they shall never appear agin to man. But I s'pose, in
+the days I speak of, when the One Pure Heart was upon earth, Earth and
+Heaven drew nearer together, as it were,--the divine and the human. And if
+we now draw Heaven nearer to us by better, purer lives, who knows," says I
+dreamily (forgettin' the mejum, and other trials), "who knows but what we
+might, in some fair day, look up into the still heavens, and see through
+the clear blue, in the distance, a glimpse of the beautiful city of the
+redeemed?
+
+"Who knows," says I, "if we lived for Heaven, as Jennie Dark lived for her
+country, in the story I have heard Thomas J. read about, but we might,
+like her, see visions, and hear voices, callin' us to heavenly duties?
+But," says I, findin' and recoverin' myself, "I don't see no use in a
+seansy to help us."
+
+"Don't you admit that there is strange doin's at these seansys?"
+
+"Yes," says I. "I never see one myself; but, from what I have heard of
+'em, they are very strange."
+
+"Don't you think there are things done that seem supernatural?"
+
+"I don't know as they are any more supernatural than the telegraph and
+telefone and electric light, and many other seemin'ly supernatural works.
+And who knows but there may still be some hidden powers in nature that is
+the source of what you call supernatural?"
+
+"Why not believe, with us, voices from Heaven speak through these means?"
+
+"Because it looks dubersome to me--dretful dubersome. It don't look
+reasonable to me, that He, the mighty King of heaven and earth, would
+speak to His children through a senseless Indian jargon, or impossible and
+blasphemous speeches through a first sphere."
+
+"You say you believe God has spoken to men, and why not now?"
+
+"I tell you, I don't know but He duz. But I don't believe it is in that
+manner. Way back to the creation, when we read of God's speakin' to man,
+the voice come directly down from heaven to their souls.
+
+"In the hush of the twilight, when every thing was still and peaceful, and
+Adam was alone, then he heard God's voice. He didn't have to wait for
+favorable conditions, or set round a table; for, what is more convincin',
+I don't believe he had a table to set round.
+
+"In the dreary lonesomeness of the great desert, God spoke to the heart-
+broken Hagar. She didn't have to try any tests to call down the spirits.
+Clear and sudden out of heaven come the Lord's voice speaking to her soul
+in comfort and in prophecy, and her eyes was opened, and she saw waters
+flowin' in the midst of the desert.
+
+"Up on the mountain top, God's voice spoke to Abraham; and Lot in the
+quiet of evening, at the tent's door, received the angelic visitants.
+Sudden, unbeknown to them, they come. They didn't have to put nobody into
+a trance, nor holler, so we read.
+
+"In the hush of the temple, through the quiet of her motherly dreams,
+Hannah heard a voice. Hannah didn't have to say, 'If you are a spirit, rap
+so many times.' No: she knew the voice. God prepares the listenin' soul
+His own self. 'They know my voice,' so the Lord said.
+
+"Daniel and the lions didn't have to 'form a circle' for him to see the
+one in shinin' raiment. No: the angel guest came down from heaven
+unbidden, and appeared to Daniel alone, in peril; and as he stood by the
+'great river,' it said, 'Be strong, be strong!' preparin' him for
+conflict. And Daniel was strengthened, so the Bible says.
+
+"God's hand is not weaker to-day, and His conflicts are bein' waged on
+many a battle-field. And I dare not say that He does not send His angels
+to comfort and sustain them who from love to Him go out into rightous
+warfare. But I don't believe they come through a seansy. I don't,
+honestly. I don't believe Daniel would have felt strengthened a mite, by
+seein' a materialized rag-baby hung out by a wire in front of a hemlock
+box, and then drawed back sudden.
+
+[Illustration: HEAVENLY VISITORS.]
+
+"No: Adam and Enoch, and Mary and Paul and St. John, didn't have to say,
+before they saw the heavenly guests, 'If you are a spirit, manifest it by
+liftin' up some table-legs.' And they didn't have to tie a mejum into a
+box before they could hear God's voice. No: we read in the Bible of eight
+different ones who come back from death, and appeared to their friends,
+besides the many who came forth from their graves at Jerusalem. But they
+didn't none of 'em come in this way from round under tables, and out of
+little coops, and etcetery.
+
+"And as it was in the old days, so I believe it is to-day. I believe, if
+God wants to speak to a human soul, livin' or dead, He don't _need_
+the help of ropes and boxes and things. It don't look reasonable to think
+He _has_ to employ such means. And it don't look reasonable to me to
+think, if He wants to speak to one of His children in comfort or
+consolation, He will try to drive a hard bargain with 'em, and make 'em
+pay from fifty cents to a dollar to hear Him, children half price.
+Howsomever, everybody to their own opinions."
+
+"You are a unbeliever," says she bitterly.
+
+"Yes, mom: I s'pose I am. I s'pose I should be called Samantha Allen,
+U.S., which Stands, Unbeliever in Spiritual Seansys, and also United
+States. It has a noble, martyrous look to me," says I firmly. "It makes me
+think of my errent."
+
+She tosted her head in a high-headed way, which is gaulin' in the extreme
+to see in another female. And she says,--
+
+"You are not receptive to truth."
+
+I s'pose she thought that would scare me, but it didn't. I says,--
+
+"I believe in takin' truth direct from God's own hand and revelation. But
+I don't have any faith in modern spiritual seansys. They seem to me,--and
+I would say it in a polite, courtous way, for I wouldn't hurt your
+feelin's for the world,--all mixed up with modern greed and humbug."
+
+But, if you'll believe it, for all the pains I took to be almost over-
+polite to her, and not say a word to hurt her feelin's, that woman acted
+mad, and flounced out of the room as if she was sent.
+
+Good land! what strange creeters there are in the world, anyway!
+
+Wall, I had fairly forgot that the boy wus in the room. But 1,000 and 5 is
+a small estimate of the questions he asked me after she went out.
+
+"What a seansy was? And did folks appear there? And would his papa appear
+if he should tie himself up in a box? And if I would be sorry if his papa
+didn't appear, if he didn't appear? And where the folks went to that I
+said, come out of their graves? And did they die again? Or did they keep
+on a livin' and a livin' and a livin'? And if I wished I could keep on a
+livin' and a livin' and a livin'?"
+
+Good land! it made me feel wild as a loon, and Cicely put the boy to bed.
+
+But I happened to go into the bedroom for something; and he opened his
+eyes, and says he,--
+
+"_Say_! if the dead live men's little boys that had grown up and
+lived and died before their pa's come out, would they come out too? and
+would the dead live men know that they was their little boys? and
+_say_"--
+
+But I went out immegiatly, and s'pose he went to sleep.
+
+Wall, the next mornin' I got up feelin' kinder mauger. I felt sort o'
+weary in my mind as well as my body. For I had kep' up a powerful ammount
+of thinkin' and medetatin'. Mebby right when I would be a talkin' and a
+smilin' to folks about the weather or literatoor or any thing, my mind
+would be hard at work on problems, and I would be a takin' silent
+observations, and musin' on what my eyes beheld.
+
+[Illustration: "SAY!"]
+
+And I had felt more and more satisfied of the wisdom of the conclusion I
+reached on my first interview with Allen Arthur,--that I dast not, I dast
+not let my companion go from me into Washington.
+
+No! I felt that I dast not, as his mind was, let him go into temptation.
+
+I felt that he wanted to make money out of the Government I loved; and
+after I had looked round me, and observed persons and things, I felt that
+he would do it.
+
+I felt that _I_ dast not let him go.
+
+I knew that he wanted to help them that helped him, without no deep
+thought as to the special fitness of uncle Nate Gowdy and Ury Henzy for
+governmental positions. And after I had enquired round a little, and
+considered the heft of his mind, and the weight of example, I felt he
+would do it.
+
+And I _dast_ not let him go.
+
+And, though I knew his hand was middlin' free now, still I realized that
+other hands just as free once had had rings slipped into 'em, and was led
+by 'em whithersoever the ring-makers wished to lead them.
+
+I dast _not_ let him go.
+
+I knew that now his morals, though small (he don't weigh more'n a
+hundred,--bones, moral sentiments, and all), was pretty sound and firm,
+the most of the time. But the powerful winds that blew through them broad
+streets of Washington from every side, and from the outside, and from the
+under side, powerful breezes, some cold, and some powerful hot ones--why,
+I felt that them small morals, more than as likely as not, would be upsot,
+and blowed down, and tore all to pieces.
+
+I dast not _let_ him go.
+
+I knew he was willin' to buy votes. If willin' to buy,--the fearful
+thought hanted me,--mebby he would be willin' to sell; and, the more I
+looked round and observed, the more I felt that he would.
+
+I felt that I dast not let _him_ go.
+
+No, no! I dast not let him _go_.
+
+I was a musin' on this thought at the breakfast-table where I sot with
+Cicely, the boy not bein' up. I was settin' to the table as calm and cool
+as my toast (which was _very_ cool), when the hired man brought me a
+letter; and I opened it right there, for I see by the post-mark it was
+from my Josiah. And I read as follers, in dismay and anguish, for I
+thought he was crazy:--
+
+MI DEER WYF,--Kum hum, I hav got a crik in mi bak. Kum hum, mi deer Sam,
+kum hum, or I shal xpire. Mi gord has withurd, mi plan has faled, I am a
+undun Josire. Tung kant xpres mi yernin to see u. I kant tak no kumfort
+lookin at ure kam fisiognimy in ure fotogrof, it maks mi hart ake, u luk
+so swete, I fere u hav caut a bo. Kum hum, kum hum.
+
+Ure luvin kompanien,
+
+JOSIRE.
+
+vers ov poetry.
+
+  Mi krik is bad, mi ink is pale:
+  Mi luv for u shal never fale.
+
+I dropt my knife and fork (I had got about through eatin', anyway), and
+hastened to my room. Cicely followed me, anxious-eyed, for I looked bad.
+
+I dropped into a chair; and almost buryin' my face in my white linen
+handkerchief, I give vent to some moans of anguish, and a large number of
+sithes. And Cicely says,--
+
+"What is the matter, aunt Samantha?"
+
+And I says,--
+
+"Your poor uncle! your poor uncle!"
+
+"What is the matter with him?" says she.
+
+And I says, "He is crazy as a loon. Crazy and got a creek, and I must
+start for home the first thing in the mornin'."
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA'S SORROW.]
+
+She says, "What do you mean?" and then I showed her the letter, and says
+as I did so,--
+
+"He has had too much strain on his mind, for the size of it. His plans
+have been too deep. He has grappled with too many public questions. I
+ortn't to have left him alone with politics. But I left him for his good.
+But never, never, will I leave that beloved man agin, crazy, or no crazy,
+creek, or no creek.
+
+"Oh!" says I, "will he never, never more be conscious of the presence of
+the partner of his youth and middle age? Will he never realize the deep,
+constant love that has lightened up our pathway?"
+
+I wept some. But I thought that mebby he would know my cream biscuit and
+other vittles, I felt that he would re_cog_nise them.
+
+But by this time Cicely had got the letter read through; and she said "he
+wuzn't crazy, it was the new-fashioned way of spelling;" she said she had
+seen it; and so I brightened up, and felt well: though, as I told her,--
+
+"The creek would drive me home in the mornin'." Says I, "Duty and Love
+draws me, a willin' captive, to the side of my sufferin' Josiah. I shall
+go home on that creek." Says I, "Woman's first duty is to the man she
+loves." Says I, "I come here on that duty, and on that duty I shall go
+back, and the creek."
+
+Cicely didn't feel as if she could go the next day, for there was to be a
+great meetin' of the friends of temperance, in a few days, there; and she
+wanted to attend to it; she wanted to help all she could; and then, there
+wus a person high in influence that she wanted to converse with on the
+subject. That good little thing was willin' to do _any thing_ for the
+sake of the boy and the Right.
+
+But I says to her, "I _must_ go, for that word 'plan' worrys me; it
+worrys me far more than the creek: and I see my partner is all unstrung,
+and I must be there to try to string him up agin."
+
+So it wus decided, that I should start in the morning, and Cicely come on
+in a few days: she was all boyed up with the thought that at this meetin'
+she could get some help and hope for the boy.
+
+But, after Cicely went to bed, I sot there, and got to thinkin' about the
+new spellin', and felt that I approved of it. My mind is such that
+_instantly_ I can weigh and decide.
+
+I took some of these words, photograph, philosophy, etc., in one hand, and
+in the other I took filosify and fotograf; and as I hefted 'em, I see the
+latter was easier to carry. I see they would make our language easier to
+learn by children and foreigners; it would lop off a lot of silent letters
+of no earthly use; it would make far less labor in writin', in printin',
+in cost of type, and would be better every way.
+
+Cicely said a good many was opposed to it on account of bein' attached to
+the old way. But I don't feel so, though I love the old things with a love
+that makes my heart ache sometimes when changes come. But my reason tells
+me that it hain't best to be attached to the old way if the new is better.
+
+Now, I s'pose our old 4 fathers was attached to the idee of hitchin' an ox
+onto a wagon, and ridin' after it. And our old 4 mothers liked the idee of
+bein' perched up on a pillion behind the old 4 fathers. I s'pose they
+hated the idee of gettin' off of that pillion, and onhitchin' that ox. But
+they had to, they had to get down, and get up into phaetons and railway
+cars, and steamboats.
+
+And I s'pose them old 4 people (likely creeters they wuz too) hated the
+idee of usin' matches; used to love to strike fire with a flint, and
+trample off a mild to a neighber's on January mornin's (and their mornin's
+was _very_ early) to borrow some coals if they had lost their flint.
+I s'pose they had got attached to that flint, some of 'em, and hated to
+give it up, thought it would be lonesome. But they had to; and the flint
+didn't care, it knew matches was better. The calm, everlasting forces of
+Nature don't murmur or rebel when they are changed for newer, greater
+helps. No: it is only human bein's who complain, and have the heartache,
+because they are so sot.
+
+[Illustration: OUR 4 PARENTS.]
+
+But whether we murmur, or whether we are calm, whether we like it, or
+whether we don't, we have to move our tents. We are only campin' out,
+here; and we have to move our tents along, and let the new things push us
+out of the way. The old things now, are the new ones of the past; and what
+seems new to us, will soon be the old.
+
+Why, how long does it seem, only a minute, since we was a buildin' moss
+houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse? Beautiful, fresh
+rooms, carpeted with the green moss, with bright young faces bendin' down
+over 'em. Where are they now? The dust of how many years--I don't want to
+think how many--has sifted down over them velvet-carpeted mansions, turned
+them into dust.
+
+And the same dust has sprinkled down onto the happy heads of the fresh,
+bright-faced little group gathered there.
+
+[Illustration: BORROWING COALS.]
+
+Charley, and Alice! oh! the dust is very deep on her head,--the dust that
+shall at last lay over all our heads. And Louis! Bright blue eyes there
+may be to-day, old Time, but none truer and tenderer than his. But long
+ago, oh! long ago, the dust covered you--the dust that is older than the
+pyramids, old, and yet new; for on some mysterious breeze it was wafted to
+you, it drifted down, and covered the blue eyes and the brown eyes, hid
+the bright faces forever.
+
+And the years have sprinkled down into Charley's grave business head
+tiresome dust of dividends and railway shares. Kate and Janet, and Will
+and Helen and Harry--where are you all to-day, I wonder? But though I do
+not know that, I do know this,--that Time has not stood still with any of
+you. The years have moved you along, hustled you forward, as they swept
+by. You have had to move along, and let other bright faces stand in front
+of you.
+
+You are all buildin' houses to-day that you think are more endurin'. But
+what you build to-day--hopes built upon worldly wealth, worldly fame,
+household affection, political success--ah I will they not pass away like
+the green moss houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse?
+
+Yes, they, too, will pass away, so utterly that only their dust will
+remain. But God grant that we may all meet, happy children again, young
+with the new life of the immortals, on some happy playground of the
+heavenly life!
+
+But poor little houses of moss and cedar boughs, you are broken down years
+and years ago, trampled down into dust, and the dust blown away by the
+rushin' years. Blown away, but gathered up agin by careful old Nature,
+nourishin' with it a newer, fresher growth.
+
+I don't s'pose any of us really hanker after growin' old; sometimes I
+kinder hate to; and so I told Josiah one day.
+
+And he says, "Why, we hain't the only ones that is growin' old. Why,
+everybody is as old as we be, that wuz born, at the same time; and lots of
+folks are older. Why, there is uncle Nate Gowdey, and aunt Seeny: they are
+as old agin, almost."
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD SCHOOLHOUSE]
+
+Says I, "That is a great comfort to meditate on, Josiah; but it don't take
+away all the sting of growin' old."
+
+And he said "he didn't care a dumb about it, if he didn't have to work so
+hard." He said "he'd fairly love to grow old if he could do it easy,
+kinder set down to it."
+
+(Now, that man don't work so very hard. But don't tell him I said so: he's
+real fractious on that subject, caused, I think, by rheumatiz, and mebby
+the Plan.)
+
+I told Josiah that it wouldn't make growin' old any easier to set down,
+than it would to stand up.
+
+I don't s'pose it makes much difference about our bodies, anyway; they are
+only wrappers for the soul: the real, person is within. But then, you
+know, you get sort o' attached to your own body, yourself, you know, if
+you have lived with yourself any length of time, as we have, a good many
+of us.
+
+You may not be handsome, but you sort o' like your own looks, after all.
+Your eyes have a sort of a good look to you. Your hands are soft and
+white; and they are your own too, which makes 'em nearer to you; they have
+done sights for you, and you can't help likin' 'em. And your mouth looks
+sort o' agreable and natural to you.
+
+You don't really like to see the dimpled, soft hands change into an older
+person's hands; you kinder hate to change the face for an older, more
+care-worn face; you get sick of lookin'-glasses.
+
+And sometimes you feel a sort of a homesick longin' for your old self--for
+the bright, eager face that looked back to you from the old lookin'-glass
+on summer mornin's, when the winder was open out into the orchard, and the
+May birds was singin' amidst the apple-blows. The red lips parted with a
+happy smile; the bright, laughin' eyes, sort o' soft too, and wistful--
+wishful for the good that mebby come to you, and mebby didn't, but which
+the glowin' face was sure of, on that spring morning with the May birds
+singin' outside, and the May birds singin' inside.
+
+[Illustration: A MAY MORNING.]
+
+Time may have brought you somethin' better--better than you dreamed of on
+that summer mornin'. But it is different, anyhow; and you can't help
+gettin' kinder homesick, longin', wantin' that pretty young face again,
+wantin' the heart back again that went with it.
+
+Wall, I s'pose we shall have it back--sometime. I s'pose we shall get back
+our lost youth in the place where we first got it. And it is all right,
+anyway.
+
+We must move on. You see, Time won't stop to argue with us, or dicker; and
+our settin' down, and coaxin' him to stop a minute, and whet his scythe,
+and give us a chance to get round the swath he cuts, won't ammount to
+nothin' only wastin' our breath. His scythe is one that don't need any
+grindstun, and his swath is one that must be cut.
+
+No! Time won't lean up aginst fence corners, and wipe his brow on a
+bandanna, and hang round. He jest moves right on--up and down, up and
+down. On each side of us the ripe blades fall, and the flowers; and pretty
+soon the swath will come right towards us, the grass-blades will fall
+nearer and nearer--a turn of the gleamin' scythe, and we, too, will be
+gone. The sunlight will rest on the turf where our shadows were, and one
+blade of grass will be missed out of that broad harvest-field more than we
+will be, when a few short years have rolled by.
+
+The beauty and the clamor of life will go on without us. You see, we
+hain't needed so much as we in our egotism think we are. The world will
+get along without us, while we rest in peace.
+
+But until then we have got to move along: we can't set down anywhere, and
+set there. No: if we want to be fore mothers and fore fathers, we mustn't
+set still: we must give the babies a chance to be fore mothers and fore
+fathers too. It wouldn't be right to keep the babies from bein' ancestors.
+
+We must keep a movin' on. How the summer follows the spring, and the
+winter follows the autumn, and the years go by! And the clouds sail on
+through the sky, and the shadows follow each other over the grass, and the
+grass fadeth.
+
+And the sun moves down the west, and the twilight follows the sun, and at
+last the night comes--and then the stars shine.
+
+Strange that all this long revery of my mind should spring from that
+letter of my pardner's. But so it is. Why, I sot probable 3 fourths of a
+hour--entirely by the side of myself. Why, I shouldn't have sensed whether
+I was settin' on a sofy in a Washington boarding-house (a hard one too),
+or a bed of flowers in Asia Minor, or in the middle of the Desert of
+Sarah. Why, I shouldn't have sensed Sarah or A. Minor at all, if they had
+stood right by me, I was so lost and unbeknown to myself.
+
+But anon, or pretty nigh that time (for I know it was ten when I got into
+bed, and it probable took me 1/2 an hour to comb out my hair and wad it
+up, and ondress), I rousted up out of my revery, and realized I was Josiah
+Allen's wife on a tower of Principle and Discovery. I realized I was a
+forerunner, and on the eve of return to the bosom of my family (a linen
+bosom, with five pleats on a side).
+
+Wall, I rose betimes in the mornin', or about that time, and eat a good,
+noble breakfast, so's to start feelin' well; embraced Cicely and the boy,
+who asked me 32 questions while I was embracin' him. I kissed him several
+times, with hugs according; and then I took leave of Sally and Bub Smith.
+I paid for my board honorable, although Sally said she would not take any
+pay for so short a board. But I knew, in her condition, boards of any
+length should be paid for. So I insisted, and the board was paid for. I
+also rewarded Bub Smith for his efforts at doin' my errents, in a way that
+made his blushes melt into a glowin' background of joyousness.
+
+And then, havin' asked the hired man to get a covered carriage to convey
+my body to the depot, and my trunk, I left Washington, D.C.
+
+The snort of the engine as it ketched sight of me, sounded friendly to me.
+It seemed to say to me,--
+
+"Forerunner, your runnin' is done, and well done! Your labors of duty and
+anxiety is over. Soon, soon will you be with your beloved pardner at
+home."
+
+Home, the dearest word that was ever said or sung.
+
+The passengers all looked good to me. The men's hats looked like Josiah's.
+They looked out of their eyes some as he did out of hisen: they looked
+good to me. There was one man upbraidin' his wife about some domestic
+matter, with crossness in his tone, but affectionate care and interest in
+his mean. Oh, how good, and sort o' natural, he did look to me! it almost
+seemed as if my Josiah was there by my side.
+
+Never, never, does the cords of love fairly pull at your heart-strings, a
+drawin' you along towards your heart's home, your heart's desire, as when
+you have been off a movin' round on a tower. I longed for my dear home, I
+yearned for my Josiah.
+
+I arrove at Jonesville as night was a lettin' down her cloudy mantilly
+fringed with stars (there wuzn't a star: I jest put that in for oritory,
+and I don't think it is wrong if I tell of it right away).
+
+[Illustration: AT THE DEPOT.]
+
+Evidently Josiah's creek wus better; for he wus at the depot with the
+mair, to convey my body home. He wus stirred to the very depths of his
+heart to see me agin; but he struggled for calmness, and told me in a
+voice controlled by his firm will, to "hurry and get in, for the mair wus
+oneasy stand-in' so long."
+
+I, too, felt that I must emulate his calmness; and I says,--
+
+"I can't get in no faster than I can. Do hold the mair still, or I can't
+get in at all."
+
+"Wall, wall! hain't I a holdin' it? Jump in: there is a team behind a
+waitin'."
+
+After these little interchanges of thought and affection, there was
+silence between us. Truly, there is happiness enough in bein' once more by
+the side of the one you love, whether you speak or not. And, to tell the
+truth, I was out of breath hurryin' so. But few words were interchanged
+until the peaceful haven of home was reached.
+
+Some few words, peaceful, calm words were uttered, as to what we wus goin'
+to have for supper, and a desire on Josiah's part for a chicken-pie and
+vegitables of all kinds, and various warm cakes and pastries, compromised
+down to plans of tender steak, mashed potatoes, cream biscuit, lemon
+custard, and coffee. It wus settled in peace and calmness. He looked
+unstrung, very unstrung, and wan, considerable wan. But I knew that I and
+the supper could string him up agin; and I felt that I would not speak of
+the plan or the creek, or any agitatin' subject, until the supper was
+over, which resolve I follered. After the table was cleared, and Josiah
+looked like a new man,--the girl bein' out in the kitchen washin' the
+dishes,--I mentioned the creek; and he owned up that he didn't know as it
+was exactly a creek, but "it was a dumb pain, anyway, and he felt that he
+must see me."
+
+It is sweet, passing sweet, to be missed, to be necessary to the happiness
+of one you love. But, at the same time, it is bitter to know that your
+pardner has prevaricated to you, and so the sweet and the bitter is mixed
+all through life.
+
+I smiled and sithed simultaneous, as it were, and dropped down the creek.
+
+Then with a calm tone, but a beatin' heart, I took up the Plan, and
+presented it to him. I wanted to find out the heights and depths of that
+Plan before I said a word about my own adventures at Washington, D.C. Oh,
+how that plan had worried me! But the minute I mentioned it, Josiah looked
+as if he would sink. And at first he tried to move off the subject, but I
+wouldn't let him. I held him up firm to that plan, and, to use a poetical
+image, I hitched him there.
+
+Says I, "You know what you told me, Josiah,--you said that plan would make
+you beloved and revered."
+
+He groaned.
+
+Says I, "You know you said it would make you a lion, and me a lioness: do
+you remember, Josiah Allen?"
+
+He groaned awful.
+
+Says I firmly, "It didn't make you a lion, did it?"
+
+He didn't speak, only sithed. But says I firmly, for I wus bound to come
+to the truth of it,--
+
+"Are you a lion?"
+
+"No," say she, "I hain't,"
+
+"Wall," says I, "then what be you?"
+
+"I am a fool," says he bitterly, "a dumb fool."
+
+"Wall," says I encouragingly, "you no need to have laid on plans, and I
+needn't have gone off on no towers of discovery, to have found that out.
+But now," says I in softer axents, for I see he did indeed look agitated
+and melancholy,--
+
+"Tell your Samantha all about it."
+
+Says he mournfully, "I have got to find 'The Gimlet.'"
+
+[Illustration: ARE YOU A LION?]
+
+"The Gimlet!" I sithed to myself; and the wild and harrowin' thought went
+through me like a arrow,--that my worst apprehensions had been realized,
+and that man had been a writing poetry.
+
+But then I remembered that he had promised me years ago, that he never
+would tackle the job agin. He begun to make a poem when we was first
+married; but there wuzn't no great harm done, for he had only wrote two
+lines when I found it out and broke it up.
+
+Bein' jest married, I had a good deal of influence over him; and he
+promised me sacred, to never, _never_, as long as he lived and
+breathed, try to write another line of poetry agin. We was married in the
+spring, and these 2 lines was as follers:--
+
+  "How happified this spring appears--
+  More happier than I ever knew springs to be, _shears_."
+
+And I asked him what he put the "shears" in for, and he said he did it to
+rhyme. And then was the time, then and there, that I made him promise on
+the Old Testament, _never_ to try to write a line of poetry agin. And
+I felt that he _could_ not do himself and me the bitter wrong to try
+it agin, and still I trembled.
+
+And right while I was tremblin', he returned, and silently laid "The
+Gimlet" in my lap, and sot down, and nearly buried his face in his hands.
+And the very first piece on which the eye of my spectacle rested, was
+this: "Josiah Allen on a Path-Master."
+
+And I dropped the paper in my lap, and says I,--
+
+"_What_ have you been doing _now_, Josiah Allen? Have you been a
+fightin'? What path-master have you been on?"
+
+"I hain't been on any," says he sadly, out from under his hand. "I headed
+it so, to have a strong, takin' title. You know they 'pinted me path-
+master some time ago."
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING TREATED.]
+
+I groaned and sithed to that extent that I was almost skairt at myself,
+not knowin' but I would have the highstericks unbeknown to me (never
+havin' had 'em, I didn't know exactly what the symptoms was), and I felt
+dredfully. But anon, or pretty nigh anon, I grew calmer, and opened the
+paper, and read. It seemed to be in answer to the men who had nominated
+him for path-master, and it read as follers:--
+
+JOSIAH ALLEN ON A PATH-MASTER.
+
+Feller Constituents and Male Men of Jonesville and the surroundin' and
+adjacent worlds!
+
+I thank you, fellow and male citizents, I thank you heartily, and from the
+depths of my bein', for the honor you have heaped onto me, in pintin' me
+path-master.
+
+But I feel it to be my duty to decline it. I feel that I must keep
+entirely out of political matters, and that I cannot be induced to be
+path-master, or President, or even United-States senator. I have not got
+the constitution to stand it. I don't feel well a good deal of the time.
+My liver is out of order, I am liable to have the ganders any minute, I am
+bilious, am troubled with rheumatiz and colic, my blood don't circulate
+proper, I have got a weak back, and lumbago, and biles. And I hain't a bit
+well. And I dassent put too much strain on myself, I dassent.
+
+And then, I am a husband and a father. I have sacred duties to perform
+about, nearer and more sacred duties, that I dast not put aside for any
+others.
+
+I am a husband. I took a tender and confidin' woman away from a happy home
+(Mother Smith's, in the east part of Jonesville), and transplanted her
+(carried her in a one-horse wagon and a mare) into my own home. And I feel
+that it is my first duty to make that home the brightest spot on earth to
+her. That home is my dearest and most sacred treasure. And how can I
+disturb its sweet peace with the wild turmoil of politics? I can not. I
+dast not.
+
+And politics are dangerous to enter into. There is bad folks in Jonesville
+'lection day,--bad men, and bad women. And I am liable to be led astray. I
+don't want to be led astray, but I feel that I am liable to.
+
+I have to hear swearin'. Now, I don't swear myself. (I don't call "dumb"
+swearin', nor never did.) I don't swear, but I think of them oaths
+afterwards. Twice I thought of 'em right in prayer-meetin' time, and it
+worrys me.
+
+I have to see drinkin' goin' on. I don't want to drink; but they offer to
+treat me, old friends do, and Samantha is afraid I shall yield to the
+temptation; and I am most afraid of it myself.
+
+Yes, politics is dangerous and hardenin'; and, should I enter into the
+wild conflict, I feel that I am in danger of losin' all them tender,
+winnin' qualities that first won me the love of my Samantha. I dare not
+imperil her peace, and mine, by the effort.
+
+I can not, I dast not, put aside these sacred duties that Providence has
+laid upon me. My wive's happiness is the first thing I must consider. Can
+I leave her lonely and unhappy while I plunge into the wild turmoil of
+caurkusses and town-meetin's, and while I go to 'lection, and vote? No.
+
+And the time I would have to spend in study in order to vote intelligent,
+I feel as if that time I must use in strugglin' to promote the welfare and
+happiness of my Samantha. No, I dassent vote, I dassent another time.
+
+Again, another reason. I have a little grandchild growin' up around me. I
+owe a duty to her. I must dandle her on my knee. I must teach her the path
+of virtue and happiness. If I do not, who will? For though there are
+plenty to make laws, and to vote, little Samantha Joe has but one grandpa
+on her mother's side.
+
+And then, I have sights of cares. The Methodist church is to be kep' up: I
+am one of the pillows of the church, and sometimes it rests heavy on me.
+Sometimes I have to manage every way to get the preacher's salary. I am
+school-trustee: I have to grapple with the deestrict every spring and
+fall. The teachers are high-headed, the parents always dissatisfied, and
+the children act like the Old Harry. I am the salesman in the cheese-
+factory. Anarky and quarellin' rains over me offen that cheese-factory;
+and its fault-findin', mistrustin' patrons, embitters my life, and rends
+my mind with cares.
+
+The care of providin' for my family wears onto me; for though Samantha
+tends to things on the inside of the house, I have to tend to things
+outside, and I have to provide the food she cooks.
+
+And then, I have a great deal of work to do. Besides my barn-chores, and
+all the wearin' cares I have mentioned, I have five acres of potatoes to
+hoe and dig, a barn to shingle, a pig-pen to new cover, a smoke-house to
+fix, a bed of beets and a bed of turnips to dig,--ruty bagys,--and four
+big beds of onions to weed--dumb 'em! and six acres of corn to husk. My
+barn-floor at this time is nearly covered with stooks. How dare I leave my
+barn in confusion, and, by my disorderly doin's, run the risk of my wive's
+bein' so disgusted with my want of neatness and shiftlessness, as to cause
+her to get dissatisfied with home and husband, and wander off into paths
+of dissipation and vice? Oh! I dassent, I dassent, take the resk! When I
+think of all the terrible evils that are liable to come onto me, I feel
+that I dassent vote agin, as long as I live and breathe--I dast not have
+any thing whatever to do with politics.
+
+FINY. THE END.
+
+I read it all out loud, every word of it, interrupted now and then, and
+sometimes oftener, by the groans of my pardner. And as I finished, I
+looked round at him, and I see his looks was dretful. And I says in
+soothin' tones--for oh! how a companion's distress calls up the tender
+feelin's of a lovin' female pardner!
+
+Says I, "It hain't the worst piece in the world, Josiah Allen! It is as
+sensible as lots of political pieces I have read." Says I, "Chirk up!"
+
+"It hain't the piece! It is the way it was took," says he. "Life has been
+a burden to me ever sense that appeared in 'The Gimlet.' Tongue can't tell
+the way them Jonesvillians has sneered and jeered at me, and run me down,
+and sot on me."
+
+I sithed, and remained a few moments almost lost in thought; and then says
+I,--
+
+"Now, if you are more composed and gathered together, will you tell your
+companion how you come to write it? what you did it _for?_"
+
+"I did it to be populer," says he, out from under his hand. "I thought I
+would branch off, and take a new turn, and not act so fierce and wolfish
+after office as most of 'em did. I thought I would get up something new
+and uneek."
+
+"Wall, you have, uneeker than you probable ever will agin. But, if you
+wanted to be a senator, _why_ did you refuse to have any thing to do
+with politics?"
+
+"I did it to be _urged_," says he, in the same sad, despairin' tones.
+"I made the move to be loved--to be the favorite of the Nation. I thought
+after they read that, they would be fierce to promote me, fierce as blood-
+hounds. I thought it would make me the most populer man in Jonesville, and
+that I should be sought after, and praised up, and follered."
+
+"What give you that idee?" says I calmly.
+
+"Why, don't you remember Letitia Lanfear? She wrote a article sunthin'
+like this, only not half so smart and deep, when she was nominated for
+school-trustee, and it jest lifted her right up. She never had been
+thought any thing off in Jonesville till she wrote that, and that was the
+makin' of her. And she hadn't half the reason to write it that I have. She
+hadn't half nor a quarter the cares that I have got. She was a widder,
+educated high, without any children, with a comfortable income, and she
+lived in her brother's family, and didn't have _no_ cares at all.
+
+"And only see how that piece lifted her right up! They all said, what
+right feelin', what delicacy, what a noble, heart-stirrin', masterly
+document hern was! And I hankered, I jest hankered, after bein' praised up
+as she was. And I thought," says he with a deep sithe, "I thought I should
+get as much agin praise as she did. I thought I should be twice as
+populer, because it wus sunthin' new for a _man_ to write such a
+article. I thought I should be all the rage in Jonesville. I thought I
+should be a lion."
+
+[Illustration: LETITIA LANFEAR.]
+
+"Wall, accordin' to your tell, they treat you like one, don't they?"
+
+"Yes," says he, "speakin' in a wild animal way." Says he, growin' excited,
+"I wish I _wuz_ a African lion right out of a jungle: I'd teach them
+Jonesvillians to get out of my way. I'd love, when they was snickerin',
+and pokin' fun at me, and actin' and jeerin' and sneerin', and callin' me
+all to nort, I'd love to spring onto 'em, and roar."
+
+"Hush, Josiah," says I. "Be calm! be calm!"
+
+"I won't be calm! I can't see into it," he hollered. "Why, what lifted
+Letitia Lanfear right up, didn't lift me up. Hain't what's sass for the
+goose, sass for the gander?"
+
+"No," says I sadly. "It hain't the same sass. The geese have to get the
+same strength from it,--strength to swim in the same water, fly over the
+same fences, from the same pursuers and avengers; and they have to grow
+the same feathers out of it; but the sass, the sass is fur different.
+
+"But," says I, "I don't approve of all your piece. A man, as a general
+thing, has as much time as a woman has. And I'd love to see the time that
+I couldn't do a job as short as puttin' a letter in the post-office. Why,
+I never see the time, even when the children was little, and in cleanin'
+house, or sugarin'-time, but what I could ride into Jonesville every day,
+to say nothin' of once a year, and lay a vote onto a pole. And you have as
+much time as I do, unless it is springs and falls and hayin'-time. And if
+_I_ could do it, _you_ could. I don't approve of such talk.
+
+"And you know very well that you and I had better spend a little of our
+spare time a studyin' into matters, so as to vote intelligently; study
+into the laws that govern us both,--that hang us if we break 'em, and
+protect us if we obey 'em,--than to spend it a whittling shingles, or
+wonderin' whether Miss Bobbet's next baby will be a boy or a girl."
+
+"Wall," says he, takin' his hand down, and winkin',--a sort of a shrewd,
+knowin' wink, but a sad and dejected one, too, as I ever see wunk,--
+
+"I didn't have no idee of stoppin' votin'."
+
+Says I coldly, as cold as Zero, or pretty nigh as coldblooded as the old
+man,--
+
+"Did you write that article _jest_ for the speech of people? Didn't
+you have no principle to back it up?"
+
+"Wall," says he mournfully, "I wouldn't want it to get out of the family,
+but I'll tell you the truth. I didn't write it on a single principle, not
+a darn principle. I wrote it jest for popularity, and to make 'em fierce
+to promote me."
+
+I groaned aloud, and he groaned. It wus a sad and groanful time.
+
+Says he, "I pinned my faith onto Letitia Lanfear. And I can't understand
+now, why a thing that made Letitia so populer, makes me a perfect outcast.
+Hain't we both human bein's--human Methodists and Jonesvillians?" Says he,
+in despairin', agonized tone, "I can't see through it."
+
+Says I soothenly, "Don't worry about that, Josiah, for nobody can. It is
+too deep a conundrum to be seen through: nobody has ever seen through it."
+
+But it seemed as if he couldn't be soothed; and agin he kinder sithed
+out,--
+
+"I pinned my faith onto Letitia, and it has ondone me;" and he kinder
+whimpered.
+
+But I says firmly, but gently,--
+
+"You will hear to your companion another time, will you not? and pin your
+faith onto truth and justice and right?"
+
+"No, I won't. I won't pin it onto nothin' nor nobody. I'm done with
+politics from this day."
+
+And bad as we both felt, this last speech of hisen made a glimmer of light
+streak up, and shine into my future. Some like heat lightenin' on summer
+evenin's. It hain't so much enjoyment at the time, but you know it is
+goin' to clear the cloudy air of the to-morrow. And so its light is sweet
+to you, though very curious, and crinkley.
+
+And as mournful and sort o' curious as this time seemed to me and to
+Josiah, yet this speech of hisen made me know that all private and public
+peril connected with Hon. Josiah Allen was forever past away. And that
+thought cast a rosy glow onto my to-morrows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+I found, on lookin' round the house the next mornin', that Philury had
+kep' things in quite good shape. Although truly the buttery looked like a
+lonesome desert, and the cubbards like empty tents the Arabs had left
+desolate.
+
+But I knew I could soon make 'em blossom like the rosy with provisions,
+which I proceeded at once to do, with Philury's help.
+
+While I wus a rollin' out the pie-crust, Philury told me "she had changed
+her mind about long engagements."
+
+And while I wus a makin' the cookies, she broached it to me that "she and
+Ury was goin' to be married the next week."
+
+I wus agreable to the idee, and told her so. I like 'em both. Ury is a
+tall, limber-jinted sort of a chap, sandy complected, and a little round
+shouldered, but hard-workin' and industrious, and seems to take a
+interest.
+
+His habits are good: he never drinks any thing stronger than root-beer,
+and he never uses tobacco--never has chawed any thing to our house
+stronger than gum. He used that, I have thought sometimes, more than wuz
+for his good. And I thought it must be expensive, he consumed such
+quantities of it. But he told me he made it himself out of beeswax and
+rozum.
+
+And I told Josiah that I shouldn't say no more about it; because, although
+it might be a foolish habit, gum was not what you might call inebriatin';
+it was not a intoxicatin' beverage, and didn't endanger the publick
+safety. So he kep' on a chawin' it, to home and abroad. He kep' at it all
+day, and at night if he felt lonesome.
+
+I had mistrusted this, because I found a great chunk now and then on the
+head-board; and I tackled him about it, and he owned up.
+
+"When he felt lonesome in the night," he said, "gum sort o' consoled him."
+
+[Illustration: URY.]
+
+Well, I thought that in a great lonesome world, that needed comfort so
+much, if he found gum a consoler, I wouldn't break it up. So I kep' still,
+and would clean the head-board silently with kerosine and a woolen rag.
+
+And Philury is a likely girl. Very freckled, but modest and unassuming.
+She is little, and has nice little features, and a round little face; and
+though she can't be said to resemble it in every particular, yet I never
+could think of any thing whenever I see her, but a nice little turkey-egg.
+
+She is very obligin', and would always curchy and smile, and say "Yes'm"
+whenever I asked her to do any thing. She always would, and always will, I
+s'pose, do jest what you tell her to,--as near as she can; and she is
+thought a good deal of.
+
+Wall, she has liked Ury for some time--that has been plain to see: she
+thought her eyes of him, and he of her. He has got eight or nine hundred
+dollars laid up; and I thought it was well enough for 'em to marry if they
+wanted to, and so I told Josiah the first time he come into the house that
+forenoon.
+
+And he said "he guessed our thinkin' about it wouldn't alter it much, one
+way or the other."
+
+And I said "I s'posed not." But says I, "I spoke out, because I feel quite
+well about it. I like 'em both, and think they'll make a happy couple: and
+to show my willin'ness still further, I mean to make a weddin' for her;
+for she hain't got no mothers, and Miss Gowdy won't have it there, for you
+know there has been such a hardness between 'em about that grindstun. So
+I'll have it here, get a good supper, and have 'em married off
+respectable."
+
+He hung back a little at first, but I argued him down. Says I,--
+
+"I have heerd you say, time and agin, that you liked 'em, and wanted 'em
+to do well: now, what do good wishes ammount to, unless you are willin' to
+back 'em up with good acts?" Says I, "I might say that I wished 'em well
+and happy, and that would be only a small expendature of wind, that
+wouldn't be no loss to me, and no petickuler help to them. But if I show
+my good will towards 'em by stirrin' up fruit-cakes and bride-cake, and
+pickin' chickens, and pressin' 'em, and makin' ice-cream and coffee and
+sandwitches, and workin' myself completely tired out, a wishin' 'em well,
+why, then they can depend on it that I am sincere in my good wishes."
+
+"Wall," says Josiah, "if you wish me well, I wish you would get me a
+little sunthin' to eat before I starve: it is past eleven o'clock."
+
+"The hand is on the pinter," says I calmly. "But start a good fire, and I
+will get dinner."
+
+So he did, and I did, and he never made no further objections to my
+enterprise; and it was all understood that I should get their weddin'
+supper, and they should start from here on their tower.
+
+And I offered, as she and Miss Gowdy didn't agree, that she might come
+back here, if she wanted to, and get some quiltin' done, and get ready for
+housekeepin'. She was tickled enough with the idee, and said she would
+help me enough to pay for her board. Ury's time wouldn't be out till about
+a month later.
+
+I told her she needn't work any for me. But she is a dretful handy little
+thing about the house, or outdoors. When Josiah was sick, and when the
+hired man happened to be away, she would go right out to the barn, and
+fodder the cattle jest as well as a man could. And Josiah said she milked
+faster than he could, to save his life. Her father had nine girls and no
+boys; and he brought some of the girls up when they was little, kinder
+boy-like, and they knew all about outdoor work.
+
+Wall, it was all decided on, that they should come right back here jest as
+soon as they ended their tower. They was a goin' to Ury's sister's, Miss
+Reuben Henzy's, and laid out to be gone about four days, or from four days
+to a week.
+
+And I went to cookin' for the weddin' about a week before it took place. I
+thought I would invite the minister and his wife and family, and Philury's
+sister-in-law's family,--the only one of her relations who lived near us,
+and she was poor; and her classmates at Sunday school,--there was twelve
+of 'em,--and our children and their families. And I asked Miss Gowdey'ses
+folks, but didn't expect they would come, owin' to that hardness about the
+grindstun. But everybody else come that was invited; and though I am far
+from bein' the one that ort to say it, the supper was successful. It was
+called "excellent" by the voice, and the far deeper language of
+consumption.
+
+They all seemed to enjoy it: and Ury took out his gum, and put it under
+the table-leaf before he begun to eat; and I found it there afterwards. He
+was excited, I s'pose, and forgot to take it agin when he left the table.
+
+Philury looked pretty. She had on a travellin'-dress of a sort of a warm
+brown,--a color that kinder set off her freckles. It was woosted, and
+trimmed with velvet of a darker shade; and her hat and her gloves matched.
+
+Her dress was picked out to suit me. Ury wanted her to be married in a
+yellow tarleton, trimmed with red. And she was jest that obleegin', clever
+creeter, that she would have done it if it hadn't been for me.
+
+[Illustration: THE WEDDING SUPPER.]
+
+I says to her and to him,--
+
+"What use would a yeller tarleton trimmed with red be to her after she is
+married, besides lookin' like fury now?" Says I, "Get a good, sensible
+dress, that will do some good after marriage, besides lookin' good now."
+Says I, "Marriage hain't exactly in real life like what it is depictered
+in novels. Life don't end there: folks have to live afterwards, and dress,
+and work." Says I, "If marriage was really what it is painted in that
+literature--if you didn't really have nothin' to do in the future, only to
+set on a rainbow, and eat honey, why, then, a yaller tarleton dress with
+red trimmin's would be jest the thing to wear. But," says I, "you will
+find yourself in the same old world, with the same old dishcloths and
+wipin'-towels and mops a waitin' for you to grasp, with the same pair of
+hands. You will have to konfront brooms and wash-tubs and darnin'-needles
+and socks, and etcetery, etcetery. And you must prepare yourself for the
+enkounter."
+
+She heerd to me; and that very day, after we had the talk, I took her to
+Jonesville, drivin' the old mare myself, and stood by her while she picked
+it out.
+
+And thinkin' she was young and pretty, and would want somethin' gay and
+bright, I bought some flannel for a mornin'-dress for her, and give it to
+her for a present. It was a pretty, soft gray and pink, in stripes about
+half a inch wide, and would be pretty for her for years, to wear in the
+house, and when she didn't feel well.
+
+I knew it would wash.
+
+She was awful tickled with it. And I bought a present for Ury on that same
+occasion,--two fine shirts, and two pair of socks, with gray toes and
+heels, to match the mornin'-dress. I do love to see things kompared,
+especially in such a time as this.
+
+My weddin' present for 'em was a nice cane-seat rocker, black walnut, good
+and stout, and very nice lookin'. And, knowin' she hadn't no mother to do
+for her, I gave her a pair of feather pillows and a bed-quilt,--one that a
+aunt of mine had pieced up for me. It was a blazin' star, a bright red and
+yeller, and it had always sort o' dazzled me.
+
+Ury worshiped it. I had kept it on his bed ever sense I knew what feelin's
+he had for it. He had said "that he didn't see how any thing so beautiful
+could be made out of earthly cloth." And I thought now was my time to part
+with it.
+
+Wall, they had lots of good presents. I had advised the children, and the
+Sunday-school children, that, if they was goin' to give 'em any thing,
+they would give 'em somethin' that would do 'em some good.
+
+Says I, "Perforated paper lambrequins, and feather flowers, and cotton-
+yarn tidies, look well; but, after all, they are not what you may call so
+nourishin' as some other things. And there will probable rise in their
+future life contingencies where a painted match-box, and a hair-pin
+receiver, and a card-case, will have no power to charm. Even china vases
+and toilet-sets, although estimable, will not bring up a large family, and
+educate them, especially for the ministry."
+
+I s'pose I convinced 'em; for, as I heerd afterwards, the class had raised
+fifty cents apiece to get perforated paper, woosted yarn, and crystal
+beads. But they took it, and got her a set of solid silver teaspoons: the
+store-keeper threw off a dollar or two for the occasion. They was good
+teaspoons.
+
+And our children got two good linen table-cloths, and a set of table-
+napkins; and the minister's wife brought her four towels, and the sister-
+in-law a patch-work bed-quilt. And Reuben Henzy's wife sent 'em the money
+to buy 'em a set of chairs and a extension table; and a rich uncle of
+hisen sent him the money for a ingrain carpet; and a rich uncle of hern in
+the Ohio sent her the money for a bedroom set,--thirty-two dollars, with
+the request that it should be light oak, with black-walnut trimmin's.
+
+And I had all the things got, and took 'em up in one of our chambers, so
+folks could see 'em. And I beset Josiah Allen to give 'em for his present,
+a nice bedroom carpet. But no: he had got his mind made up to give Ury a
+yearlin' calf, and calf it must be. But he said "he would give in to me so
+fur, that, seein' I wanted to make such a show, if I said so, he would
+take the calf upstairs, and hitch it to the bed-post."
+
+But I wouldn't parlay with him.
+
+Wall, the weddin' went off first-rate: things went to suit me, all but one
+thing. I didn't love to see Ury chew gum all the time they was bein'
+married. But he took it out and held it in his hand when he said "Yes,
+sir," when the minister asked him, would he have this woman. And when she
+was asked if she would have Ury, she curchied, and said, "Yes, if you
+please," jest as if Ury was roast veal or mutton, and the minister was a
+passin' him to her. She is a good-natured little thing, and always was,
+and willin'.
+
+Wall, they was married about four o'clock in the afternoon; and Josiah sot
+out with 'em, to take 'em to the six o'clock train, for their tower.
+
+The company staid a half-hour or so afterwards: and the children stayed a
+little longer, to help me do up the work; and finally they went. And I
+went up into the spare chamber, and sort o' fixed Philury's things to the
+best advantage; for I knew the neighbors would be in to look at 'em. And I
+was a standin' there as calm and happy as the buro or table,--and they
+looked very light and cheerful,--when all of a sudden the door opened, and
+in walked Ury Henzy, and asked me,--
+
+"If I knew where his overhauls was?"
+
+You could have knocked me down with a pin-feather, as it were, I was so
+smut and dumb-foundered.
+
+Says I, "Ury Henzy, is it your ghost?" says I, "or be you Ury?"
+
+"Yes, I am Ury," says he, lookin', I thought, kinder disappointed and
+curious.
+
+"Where is Philury?" says I faintly.
+
+[Illustration: "YES, IF you PLEASE."]
+
+"She has gone on her tower," says he.
+
+Says I, "Then, you be a ghost: you hain't Ury, and you needn't say you
+be."
+
+But jest at that minute in come Josiah Allen a snickerin'; and says he,--
+
+"I have done it now, Samantha. I have done somethin' now, that is new and
+uneek."
+
+And as he see my strange and awful looks, he continued, "You know, you
+always say that you want a change now and then, and somethin' new, to pass
+away time."
+
+"And I shall most probable get it," says I, groanin', "as long as I live
+with you. Now tell me at once, what you have done, Josiah Allen! I know it
+is your doin's."
+
+"Yes," says he proudly, "yes, mom. Ury never would have thought of it, or
+Philury. I got it up myself, out of my own head. It is original, and I
+want the credit of it all myself."
+
+Says I faintly, "I guess you won't be troubled about gettin' a patent for
+it." Says I, "What ever put it into your head to do such a thing as this?"
+
+"Why," says he, "I got to thinkin' of it on the way to the cars. Philury
+said she would love to go and see her sister in Buffalo; and Ury, of
+course, wanted to go and see his sister in Rochester. And I proposed to
+'em that she should go first to Buffalo, and see her folks, and when she
+got back, he should go to Rochester, and see his folks. I told her that I
+needed Ury's help, and she could jest as well go alone as not, after we
+got her ticket. And then in a week or so, when she had got her visit made
+out, she could come back, and help do the chores, and tend to things, and
+Ury could go. Ury hung back at first. But she smiled, and said she would
+do it."
+
+I groaned aloud, "That clever little creeter! You have imposed upon her,
+and she has stood it."
+
+"Imposed upon her? I have made her a heroine.
+
+"Folks will make as much agin of her. I don't believe any female ever done
+any thing like it before,--not in any novel, or any thing."
+
+"No," I groaned. "I don't believe they ever did."
+
+"It will make her sought after. I told her it would. Folks will jest run
+after her, they will admire her so; and so I told her."
+
+Says I, "Josiah Allen, you did it because you didn't want to milk. Don't
+try to make out that you had a good motive for this awful deed. Oh, dear!
+how the neighbors will talk about it!"
+
+"Wall, dang it all, when they are a talkin' about this, they won't be
+lyin' about something else."
+
+"O Josiah Allen!" says I. "Don't ever try to do any thing, or say any
+thing, or lay on any plans agin, without lettin' me know beforehand."
+
+"I'd like to know why it hain't jest as well for 'em to go one at a time?
+They are both _a goin_ You needn't worry about _that_. I hain't
+a goin' to break _that_ up."
+
+I groaned awful; and he snapped out,--
+
+"I want sunthin' to eat."
+
+"To eat?" says I. "Can you eat with such a conscience? Think of that poor
+little freckled thing way off there alone!"
+
+"That poor little freckled thing is with her folks by this time, as happy
+as a king." But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun to feel
+bad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but he tried to
+keep up, and says he, "My conscience is clear, clear as a crystal goblet;
+and my stomack is as empty as one. I didn't eat a mouthful of supper.
+Cake, cake, and ice-cream, and jell! a dog couldn't eat it. I want some
+potatoes and meat!"
+
+And then he started out; and I went down, and got a good supper, but I
+sithed and groaned powerful and frequent.
+
+Philury got home safely from her bridal tower, lookin' clever, but
+considerable lonesome.
+
+Truly, men are handy on many occasions, and in no place do they seem more
+useful and necessary than on a weddin' tower.
+
+Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah would
+whisper to me every chance he got,--
+
+"That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and there
+wuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower." Josiah always stands up
+for his sect.
+
+And I would answer him every time,--
+
+"That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together, like
+human bein's."
+
+And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' about
+the milkin'. _There was where the shoe pinched_.
+
+Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back from
+Washington. And he stopped lookin' cross, and looked placid, and sunshiny.
+That man thinks his eyes of Cicely, both of 'em; and so do I.
+
+But I see that she looked fagged out.
+
+And she told me how hard she had worked ever sence she had been gone. She
+had been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done every
+thing she could with her influence and her money. She was willin' to spend
+her money like rain-water, if it would help any.
+
+But she said it seemed as if the powers against it was greater than ever,
+and she was heart-sick and weary.
+
+She had had another letter from the executor, too, that worried her.
+
+She told me that, after she went up to her room at night, and the boy was
+asleep.
+
+She had took off her heavy mournin'-dress, covered with crape, and put on
+a pretty white loose dress; and she laid her head down in my lap, and I
+smoothed her shinin' hair, and says to her,--
+
+"You are all tired out to-night, Cicely: you'll feel better in the
+mornin'."
+
+But she didn't: she was sick in bed the next day, and for two or three
+days.
+
+And it was arranged, that, jest as quick as she got well enough to go, I
+was to go with her to see the executor, to see if we couldn't make him
+change his mind. It was only half a day's ride on the cars, and I'd go
+further to please her.
+
+But she was sick for most a week. And the boy meant to be good. He wanted
+to be, and I know it.
+
+But though he was such a sweet disposition, and easy to mind, he was
+dretful easy led away by temptation, and other boys.
+
+Now, Cicely had told him that he _must not_ go a fishin' in the creek
+back of the house, there was such deep places in it; and he must not go
+there till he got older.
+
+And he would _mean_ to mind, I would know it by his looks. He would
+look good and promise. But mebby in a hour's time little Let Peedick would
+stroll over here, and beset the boy to go; and the next thing she'd know,
+he would be down to the creek, fishin' with a bent pin.
+
+[Illustration: LED ASTRAY.]
+
+And Cicely had told him he _mustn't_ go in a swimmin'. But he went;
+and because it made his mother feel bad, he would deceive her jest as
+good-natured as you ever see.
+
+Why, once he come in with his pretty brown curls all wet, and his little
+shirt on wrong side out.
+
+He was kinder whistlin', and tryin' to act indifferent and innocent. And
+when his mother questioned him about it, he said,--
+
+"He had drinked so much water, that it had soaked through somehow to his
+hair. And he turned his shirt gettin' over the fence. And we might ask Let
+Peedick if it wuzn't so."
+
+We could hear Letty a whistlin' out to the barn, and we knew he stood
+ready to say "he see the shirt turn."
+
+But we didn't ask.
+
+But when the boy see that his actin' and behavin' made his mother feel
+real bad, he would ask her forgiveness jest as sweet; and I knew he meant
+to do jest right, and mebby he would for as much as an hour, or till some
+temptation come along--or boy.
+
+But the good-tempered easiness to be led astray made Cicely feel like
+death: she had seen it in another; she see it was a inherited trait. And
+she could see jest how hard it was goin' to make his future: she would try
+her best to break him of it. But how, how was she goin' to do it, with
+them weak, good-natured lips, and that chin?
+
+But she tried, and she prayed.
+
+And, oh, how we all loved the boy! We loved him as we did the apples in
+our eyes.
+
+But as I said, he was a child that had his spells. Sometimes he would be
+very truthful and honest,--most too much so. That was when he had his sort
+o' dreamy spells.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY'S EXPLANATION.]
+
+I know one day, she that wus Kezier Lum come here a visitin'. She is
+middlin' old, and dretful humbly.
+
+Paul sot and looked at her face for a long time, with that sort of a
+dreamy look of hisen; and finally he says,--
+
+"Was you ever a young child?"
+
+And she says,--
+
+"Why, law me! yes, I s'pose so."
+
+And he says,--
+
+"I think I would rather have died young, than to grow up, and be so
+homely."
+
+[Illustration: SHE THAT WUS KEZIER LUM.]
+
+I riz up, and led him out of the room quick, and told him "never to talk
+so agin."
+
+And he says,--
+
+"Why, I told the truth, aunt Samantha."
+
+"Wall, truth hain't to be spoken at all times."
+
+"Mother punished me last night for not telling the truth, and told me to
+tell it always."
+
+And then I tried to explain things to him; and he looked sweet, and said
+"he would try and remember not to hurt folks'es feelin's."
+
+He never thought of doin' it in the first place, and I knew it. And I
+declare, I thought to myself, as I went back into the room,--
+
+"We whip children for tellin' lies, and shake 'em for tellin' the truth.
+Poor little creeters! they have a hard time of it, anyway."
+
+But when I went back into the room, I see Kezier was mad. And she said in
+the course of our conversation, that "she thought Cicely was too much took
+up on the subject of intemperance, and some folks said she was crazy on
+the subject."
+
+Kezier was always a high-headed sort of a woman, without a nerve in her
+body. I don't believe her teeth has got nerves; though I wouldn't want to
+swear to it, never havin' filled any for her.
+
+And I says back to her, for it made me mad to see Cicely run,--
+
+Says I, "She hain't the first one that has been called crazy, when they
+wus workin' for truth and right. And if the old possles stood it, to be
+called crazy, and drunken with new wine--why, I s'pose Cicely can."
+
+"Wall," says she, "don't you believe she is almost crazy on that subject?"
+
+Says I, deep and earnest, "It is a _good_ crazy, if it is. And," says
+I, "to s'posen the case,--s'posen the one we loved best in the world, your
+Ebineezer, or my Josiah, should have been ruined, and led into murder, by
+drinkin' milk, don't you believe we should have been sort o' crazy ever
+afterwards on the milk question?"
+
+"Why," says she, "milk won't make anybody crazy."
+
+There it wuz--she hadn't no imagination.
+
+Says I, "I am s'posen milk, I don't mean it." Says I, "Cicely means well."
+
+And so she did, sweet little soul.
+
+But day by day I could see that her eagerness to accomplish what she had
+sot out to, her awful anxiety about the boy's future, wus a wearin' on
+her: the active, keen mind, the throbbin', achin' heart, was a wearin' out
+the tender body.
+
+Her eyes got bigger and bigger every day; and her face got the solemnest,
+curiusest look to it, that I ever see.
+
+And her cheeks looked more and more like the pure white blow of the Sweet
+Cicely, only at times there would be a red upon 'em, as if a leaf out of a
+scarlet rose had dropped dowrn upon their pure whiteness.
+
+That would be in the afternoon; and there would be such a dazzlin'
+brightness in her eyes, that I used to wonder if it was the fire of
+immortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes.
+
+And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have been
+executed with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)--he wuz sot, a
+good man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the ground
+than he wuz sot on top of it. And he didn't like a woman's interference.
+He wrote to her that one of her stores, that he had always rented for the
+sale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool blankets, and
+etcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a new saloon and
+billiard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose; and he told how
+much more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons, that wuz in the
+boy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a drawin' some other
+mother's boys down to ruin.
+
+Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said,--said she was afraid the
+curses of these mothers would fall on the boy.
+
+And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face grew
+thinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks regular
+every afternoon, and she begun to cough bad.
+
+But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went to
+see the executor, Condelick Post.
+
+We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove
+there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out
+for Mr. Post'ses office.
+
+[Illustration: CONDELICK POST.]
+
+He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so at
+her, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be to
+tell her errent. I knew he would do every thing jest as she wanted him to.
+His smile was truly bland--I don't think I ever see a blander one, or
+amiabler.
+
+I guess she was kinder encouraged, too, for she begun real sort o'
+cheerful a tellin' what she come for,--that she wanted him to rent these
+buildin's for some other purpose than drinkin' and billiard saloons.
+
+And he went on in jest as cheerful a way, almost jokeuler, to tell her
+"that he couldn't do any thing of the kind, and he was doing the business
+to the best of his ability, and he couldn't change it at all."
+
+And then Cicely, in a courteus, reasonable voice, begun to argue with him;
+told him jest how bad she felt about it, and urged him to grant her
+request.
+
+But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half so
+polite.
+
+And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued the
+right of the thing.
+
+She said when she was married, her husband took the whole of her property,
+and invested it for her in these very buildings. And in reality, it was
+her own property. The most of her husband's wealth was in the mills and
+government bonds. But she wanted her money invested here, because she
+wanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let the interest
+accumulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel, for the workmen
+at the mills.
+
+And says she, "Is it _right_ that my own property should be used for
+what I consider such wicked purposes?"
+
+"Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any other
+investment that I have been able to make. And you know your husband's will
+provides handsomely for you--the yearly allowance is very handsome
+indeed."
+
+"It is all I wish, and more than I care for. I am not speaking of that."
+
+"Yes, it is very handsome indeed. And by the time Paul is of age, in the
+way I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man in
+this section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints, will
+be of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony."
+
+"It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight of
+heavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives."
+
+"All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But there
+will be nothing of the kind, I assure you," says he, with a patronizing
+smile. "It will all be invested in government bonds,--good, honest
+dollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them."
+
+"Yes, and these words, 'In God we trust.' But do you know," says she, with
+the red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes brighter,--"do
+you know, if one did not possess great faith, they would be apt to doubt
+the existence of a God, who can allow such injustice?"
+
+"What injustice, my dear madam?" says he, smilin' blandly.
+
+"You know, Mr. Post, just how my husband died: you know he was killed by
+intemperance. A drinking-saloon was just as surely the cause of his death,
+as the sword is, that pierces through a man's heart. Intemperance was the
+cause of his crime. He, the one I loved better than my own self,
+infinitely better, was made a murderer by it. I have lost him," says she,
+a throwin' out her arms with a wild gesture that skairt me. "I have lost
+him by it."
+
+And her eyes looked as big and wild and wretched, as if she was lookin'
+down the endless ages of eternity, a tryin' to find her love, and knew she
+couldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed to
+conquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, and
+speak calmly for the sake of her boy.
+
+"And now, after I have suffered by it as I have, is it right, is it just,
+that I should be compelled to allow my property to be used to make other
+women's hearts, other mothers' hearts, ache as mine must ache forever?"
+
+"But, my dear madam, the law, as it is now, gives me the right to do as I
+am doing."
+
+"I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant my
+prayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, to
+beg for mercy."
+
+"O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women are
+the real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a rod of
+iron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real autocrats
+of--of the breakfast-table, and of life."
+
+You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago. He
+forgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had almost
+entirely gone out of fashion. And it was a good deal more stylish now to
+talk to wimmen as if they wuz human bein's, and men wuz too.
+
+But Cicely looked at him calm and earnest, and says,--
+
+"Will you do as I wish you to in this matter?"
+
+"Well, really, my dear madam, I don't quite get at your meaning."
+
+"Will you let this store remain as it is, and rent those other saloons to
+honest business men for some other purpose than drinking-saloons?"
+
+"O my dear, dear madam! What can you be thinking of? The rent that I get
+from those four buildings is equal in amount to any eight of the other
+buildings of the same size. I cannot, I cannot, consent to make any
+changes whatever."
+
+"You will not, then, do as I wish?"
+
+"I _cannot_, my dear madam: I prefer to put it in that way,--I
+cannot. I do not see as you do in the matter. And as the law empowers me
+to use my own discretion in renting the buildings, investing money, etc.,
+I shall be obliged to do so."
+
+Cicely got up: she was white as snow now, but as quiet as snow ever wus.
+
+Mr. Post got up, too, about the politest actin' man I ever see, a movin'
+chairs out of the way, and a smilin', and a waitin' on us out. He was
+ready to give plenty of politeness to Cicely, but no justice.
+
+And I guess he was kinder sorry to see how white and sad she looked, for
+he spoke out in a sort of a comfortin' voice,--
+
+"You have had great sorrows, Mrs. Slide, but you have also a great deal to
+comfort you. Just think of how many other widows have been left in
+poverty, or, as you may say, penury, and you are rich."
+
+Cicely turned then, and made the longest speech I ever heard her make.
+
+[Illustration: LICENSED WRETCHEDNESS.]
+
+"Yes, many a drunkard's wife is clothed in rags, and goes hungry to bed at
+night, with her hungry children crying for bread about her. She can lie on
+her cold pile of rags, with the snow sifting down on her, and think that
+her husband, a sober, honest man once, was made a low, brutal wretch by
+intemperance; that he drank up all his property, killed himself by strong
+drink, was buried in a pauper's grave, and left a starving wife and
+children, to live if they could. The cold of winter freezes her, the want
+of food makes her faint, and to see her little ones starving about her
+makes her heart ache, no doubt. I have plenty of money, fine clothes,
+dainty food, diamonds on my fingers."
+
+Says she, stretching out her little white hands, and smilin' the bitterest
+smile I ever see on Cicely's face,--
+
+"But do you not think, that, as I lie on my warm, soft couch at night, my
+heart is wrung by a keener pang than that drunkard's wife can ever know? I
+can lie and think that by my means, my wealth, I am making just such homes
+as that, making just such broken hearts, just such starving children,
+filling just such paupers' graves,--laying up a long store of curses and
+judgments, for my boy's inheritance. And I am powerless to do any thing
+but suffer."
+
+And she opened the door, and walked right out. And Mr. Post stood and
+smiled till we got to the bottom of the stairs.
+
+"Good-afternoon, _good_-afternoon, my clear madam, call again; happy
+to see you--_Good_-afternoon."
+
+Wall, Cicely went right to bed the minute we got home; and she never eat a
+mite of supper, only drinked a cup of tea, and thanked me so pretty for
+bringin' it to her.
+
+And there was such a sad and helpless, and sort of a outraged, look in her
+pretty brown eyes, some as a noble animal might have, who wus at bay with
+the cruel hunters all round it. And so I told Josiah after I went down-
+stairs.
+
+And the boy overheard me, and asked me 87 questions about "a animal at
+bay," and what kind of a bay it was--was it the bay to a barn? or on the
+water? or--
+
+Oh my land! my land! How I did suffer!
+
+But Cicely grew worse fast, from that very day. She seemed to run right
+down.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+One day Cicely had been worryin' dretfully all the forenoon about the boy.
+And I declare, it seemed so pitiful to hear her talk and forebode about
+him, with her face lookin' so wan and white, and her big eyes so sorrowful
+lookin', as if they was lookin' onto all the sadness and trouble of the
+world, and couldn't help herself--such a sort of a hopeless look, and
+lovin' and broken-hearted, that it was all I could do to stand it without
+breakin' right down, and cry in' with her.
+
+But I knew her state, and held firm. And she went over all the old grounds
+agin to me, that she had foreboded on; and I went over all the old grounds
+of soothing agin and agin.
+
+Why, good land! I had had practice enough. For every day, and every night,
+would she forebode and forebode, and I would soothe and soothe, till I
+declare for't, I should have felt (to myself) a good deal like a bread-
+and-milk poultice, or even lobelia or catnip, if my feelin's on the
+subject hadn't been so dretful deep and solemn, deeper than any poultice
+that was ever made--and solemner.
+
+Why, Tirzah Ann says to me one day,--she had been settin' with Cicely for
+a hour or two; and she come out a cryin', and says she,--
+
+"Mother, I don't see how you can stand it. It would break my heart to see
+Cicely's broken-hearted look, and hear her talk for half a day; and you
+have to hear her all the time." And she wiped her eyes.
+
+And I says, "Tongue can't tell, Tirzah Ann, how your ma's heart does ache
+for her. And," says I, "if I knew myself, I had got to die and leave a boy
+in the world with such temptations round him, and such a chin on him, why,
+I don't know what I should do, and what I shouldn't do."
+
+And says Tirzah Ann, "That is jest the way I feel, mother;" and we both of
+us wiped our eyes.
+
+But I held firm before her, and reminded her every time, of what she knew
+already,--"that there was One who was strong, who comforted her in her
+hour of need, and He would watch over the boy."
+
+And sometimes she would be soothed for a little while, and sometimes she
+wouldn't.
+
+Wall, this day, as I said, she had worried and worried and worried. And at
+last I had soothed her down, real soothed. And she asked me before I went
+down-stairs, for a poem, a favorite one of hers,--"The Celestial Country."
+And I gin it to her. And she said I might shet the door, and she would
+read a spell, and she guessed she should drop to sleep.
+
+And as I was goin' out of the room, she called me back to hear a verse or
+two she particularly liked, about the "endless, ageless peace of Syon:"--
+
+  "True vision of true beauty,
+  Sweet cure of all distrest."
+
+And I stood calm, and heard her with a smooth, placid face, though I knew
+my pies was a scorchin' in the oven, for I smelt 'em. I did well by
+Cicely.
+
+[Illustration: SAMANTHA LISTENING TO CICELY.]
+
+After she finished it, I told her it was perfectly beautiful, and I left
+her feelin' quite bright; and there wuzn't but one of my pies spilte, and
+I didn't care if it wuz. I wuzn't goin' to have her feelin's hurt, pies or
+no pies.
+
+After I got my pies out, I went into my nearest neighbor's on a errent,
+tellin' Josiah to stay in Thomas Jefferson's room, just acrost from
+Cicely's, so's if she wanted any thing, he could get it for her. I wuzn't
+gone over a hour, and, when I went back, I went up-stairs the first thing;
+and I found Cicely a cryin,' though there was a softer, more contented
+look in her eyes than I had seen there for a long time.
+
+And I says, "What is the matter, Cicely?"
+
+And she says,--
+
+"Oh! if I had been a better woman, I could have seen my mother! she has
+been here!"
+
+"Why, Cicely!" says I. "Here, take some of this jell."
+
+But she put it away, and says in a sort of a solemn, happy tone,--
+
+"She has been here!"
+
+She said it jest as earnest and serene as I ever heard any thing said; and
+there was a look in her eyes some as there wuz when she come home from her
+aunt Mary's, and told me "she almost wished her aunt had died while she
+was there, because she felt that her mother would be the angel sent from
+heaven to convey her aunt's soul home--and she could have seen her."
+
+There was that same sort of deep, soulful, sad, and yet happy look to her
+eyes, as she repeated,--
+
+"She has been here! I was lying here, aunt Samantha, reading 'The
+Celestial Country,' not thinking of any thing but my book, when suddenly I
+felt something fanning my forehead, like a wing passing gently over my
+face. And then something said to me just as plain as I am speaking to you,
+only, instead of being spoken aloud, it was said to my soul,--
+
+"'You have wanted to see your mother: she is here with you.'
+
+"And I dropped my book, and sprung up, and stood trembling, and reached
+out my hands, and cried,--"'Mother! mother! where are you? Oh! how I have
+wanted you, mother!'
+
+"And then that same voice said to my heart again,--
+
+"'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+"And as I stood there trembling, the room seemed full. You know how you
+would feel if your eyes were shut, and you were placed in a room full of
+people. You would know they were there--you would feel their presence,
+though you couldn't see them. You know what the Bible says,--'Seeing we
+are encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses.' That word just
+describes what I felt. There seemed to be all about me, a great cloud of
+people. And I put my arms out, and made a rush through them, as you would
+through a dense crowd, and said again,--
+
+"'Mother! mother! where are you? Speak to me again.'
+
+"And then, suddenly, there seemed to be a stir, a movement in the room,
+something I was conscious of with some finer, more vivid sense than
+hearing. It seemed to be a great crowd moving, receding. And farther off,
+but clear, these words came to me again, sweet and solemn,--
+
+"'God will take care of the boy.'
+
+"And then I seemed to be alone. And I went out into the hall; and uncle
+Josiah heard me, and he came out, and asked me what the matter was.
+
+"And I told him 'I didn't know.' And my strength left me then; and he
+took me up in his arms, and brought me back into my room, and laid me on
+the lounge, and gave me some wine, and I couldn't help crying."
+
+"What for, dear?" says I.
+
+"Because I wasn't good enough to see my mother. If I had only been good
+enough, I could have seen her. For she was here, aunt Samantha, right in
+this room."
+
+Her eyes wus so big and solemn and earnest, that I knew she meant what she
+said. But I soothed her down as well as I could, and I says,--
+
+"Mebby you had dropped to sleep, Cicely: mebby you dremp it."
+
+"Yes," says Josiah, who had come in, and heard my last words.
+
+"Yes, Cicely, you dremp it."
+
+Wall, after a while Cicely stopped cryin', and dropped to sleep.
+
+And now what I am goin' to tell you is the _truth_. You can believe
+it, or not, jest as you are a mind to; but it is the _truth_.
+
+That night, at sundown, Thomas J. come in with a telegram for Cicely; and
+she says, without actin' a mite surprised,--
+
+"Aunt Mary is dead."
+
+And sure enough, when she opened it, it was so. She died jest before the
+time Cicely come out into the hall. Josiah remembered plain. The clock had
+jest struck two as she opened the door.
+
+Her aunt died at two.
+
+This is the plain truth; and I will make oath to it, and so will Josiah.
+And whether Cicely dremp it, or whether she didn't; whether it wus jest a
+coincidin' coincidence, her havin' these feelin's at exactly the time her
+aunt died, or not,--I don't know any more than you do. I jest put down the
+facts, and you can draw your own inferences from 'em, and draw 'em jest as
+fur as you want to, and as many of 'em.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON BRINGING CICELY'S TELEGRAM.]
+
+But that night, way along in the night, as I lay awake a musin' on it, and
+a wonderin',--for I say plain that my specks hain't strong enough to see
+through the mysteries that wrap us round on every side,--I s'posed my
+companion wus asleep; but he spoke out sudden like, and decided, as if I
+had been a disputin' of him,--
+
+"Yes, most probable she dremp it."
+
+"Wall," says I, "I hain't disputed you,"
+
+"Hain't you a goin' to?" says he.
+
+"No," says I. And that seemed to quiet him down, and he went to sleep.
+
+And I give up, that most probable she did, or didn't, one of the two.
+
+[Illustration: "MOST PROBABLE SHE DREMP IT."]
+
+But anyway, from that night, she didn't worry one bit about the boy.
+
+She would talk to him sights about his bein' a good boy, but she would act
+and talk as if she was _sure_ he would. She would look at him, not
+with the old, pitiful, agonized look, but with a sweet and happy light in
+her eyes.
+
+And I guessed that she thought that the laws would be changed before the
+boy was of age. I thought that she felt real encouraged to think the march
+of civilization was a marchin' on, pretty slow but sure, and, before the
+boy got old enough to go out into a world full of temptations, there would
+be wiser laws, purer influences, to help the boy to be a good and noble
+man, which is about the best thing we know of, here below.
+
+No, she never worried one worry about him after that day, not a single
+worry. But she made her will, and it was fixed lawful too. She wanted Paul
+to stay with us till he was old enough to send off to school and college.
+And she wanted her property and Paul's too, if he should die before he was
+of age, should be used to found a school, and a home for the children of
+drunkards. A good school and a Christian home, to teach them and help them
+to be good, and good citizens.
+
+Josiah Allen and Thomas J. and I was appinted to see to it, appinted by
+law. It was to be right in them buildings that wus used now for dram-
+shops: them very housen was to be used to send out good influences and
+spirits into the world instead of the vile, murderous, brutal spirits,
+they wus sendin' out now.
+
+And wuzn't it sort o' pitiful to think on, that Cicely had to _die_
+before her property could be used as she wanted it to be,--could be used
+to send out blessings into the world, instead of 'cursings and wickedness,
+as it was now? It was pitiful to look on it with the eye of a woman; but I
+kep' still, and tried to look on it with the eye of the United States, and
+held firm.
+
+And we give her our solemn promises, that in case the job fell to us to
+do, it should be tended to, to the very best of our three abilities.
+Thomas J., bein' a good lawyer, could be relied on.
+
+The executor consented to it,--I s'pose because he was so dretful polite,
+and he thought it would be a comfort to Cicely. He knew there wuzn't much
+danger of its ever takin' place, for Paul was a healthy child. And his
+appetite was perfectly startlin' to any one who never see a child's
+appetite.
+
+I estimated, and estimated calmly, that there wuzn't a hour of the day
+that he couldn't eat a good, hearty meal. But truly, it needed a strong
+diet to keep up his strength. For oh! oh! the questions that child would
+ask! He would get me and Philury pantin' for breath in the house, and then
+go out with calmness and strength to fatigue his uncle Josiah and Ury
+nearly unto death.
+
+But they loved him, and so did I, with a deep, pantin', tired-out
+affection. We loved him better and better as the days rolled by: the
+tireder we got with him seemin'ly, the more we loved him.
+
+But one hope that had boyed me up durin' the first weeks of my intercourse
+with him, died out. I did think, that, in the course of time, he would get
+all asked out. There wouldn't be a thing more in heavens or on earth, or
+under the earth, that he hadn't enquired in perticular about.
+
+But as days passed by, I see the fallicy of my hopes. Insperation seemed
+to come to him; questions would spring up spontanious in his mind; the
+more he asked, the more spontaniouser they seemed to spring.
+
+Now, for instance, one evenin' he asked me about 3,000 questions about the
+Atlantic Ocian, its whales and sharks and tides and steamships and islands
+and pirates and cable and sailors and coral and salt, and etc., etc., and
+etcetery; and after a hour or two he couldn't think of another thing to
+ask, seemin'ly. And I begun to get real encouraged, though fagged to the
+very outmost limit of fag, when he drew a long breath, and says with a
+perfectly fresh, vigorous look,--
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY ASKING QUESTIONS.]
+
+"Now less begin on the Pacific."
+
+And I answered kindly, but with firmness,--
+
+"I can't tackle any more ocians to-night, I am too tuckered out."
+
+"Well," says he, glancin' out of the window at the new moon which hung
+like a slender golden bow in the west, "don't you think the moon to-night
+is shaped some like a hammock? and if I set down in it with my feet
+hanging out, would I be dizzy? and if I should curl my feet up, and lay
+back in it, and sail--and sail--and sail up into the sky, could I find out
+about things up in the heavens? Could I find the One up there that set me
+to breathing? And who made the One that made me? And where was I before I
+was made?--and uncle Josiah and Ury? And why wouldn't I tell him where we
+was before we was anywhere? and if we wasn't anywhere, did I suppose we
+would want to be somewhere? and _say_--SAY"--
+
+Oh, dear me! dear me! how I did suffer!
+
+But a better child never lived than he was, and I would have loved to seen
+anybody dispute it. He was a lovely child, and very deep.
+
+And he would back up to you, and get up into your lap, with such a calm,
+assured air of owning you, as if you was his possession by right of
+discovery. And he would look up into your face with such a trustin',
+angelic look as he tackled you, that, no matter how tuckered out you would
+get, you was jest as ready for him the next time, jest as ready to be
+tackled and tuckered.
+
+He was up with his mother a good deal. He would get up on the bed, and lay
+by her side; and she would hold him close, and talk good to him, dretful
+good.
+
+I heard her tellin' him one day, that, "if ever he had a man's influence
+and strength, he must use them wisely, and deal tenderly and gently by
+those who were weaker, and in his power. That a manly man was never
+ashamed of doing what was right, no matter how many opposed him; that it
+was manly and noble to be pure and good, and helpful to all who needed
+help.
+
+"And he must remember, if he ever got tired out and discouraged trying to
+be good himself, and helping others to be good, that he was never alone,
+that his loving Father would always be with him, and _she_ should.
+She should never be far away from her boy.
+
+"And it would only be a little while at the longest, before she should
+take him in her arms again, before life here would end, and the new and
+glorious life begin, that he must fit himself for. That life here was so
+short that it wasn't worth while to spend any part of it in less worthy
+work than in loving and serving with all his strength God and man."
+
+And I thought as I listened to her, that her talk had the simplicity of a
+child, and the wisdom of all the philosiphers.
+
+Yes, she would talk to him dretful good, a holdin' him close in her arms,
+and lookin' on him with that fur-off, happy look in her eyes, that I loved
+and hated to see,--loved to see because it was so beautiful and sweet,
+hated to see because it seemed to set her so fur apart from all of us.
+
+It seemed as though, while her body was here below, she herself was a
+livin' in another world than ourn: you could see its bright radience in
+her eyes, hear its sweet and peaceful echoes in her voice.
+
+She was with us, and she wuzn't with us; and I'd smile and cry about it,
+and cry and smile, and couldn't help it, and didn't want to.
+
+And seein' her so satisfied about the boy--why, seein' her feel so good
+about him, made us feel good too. And seein' her so contented and happy,
+made us contented and happy--some.
+
+And so the peaceful weeks went by, Cicely growin' weaker and weaker all
+the time in body, but happier and happier in her mind; so sweet and
+serene, that we all felt, that, instead of being sad, it was somethin'
+beautiful to die.
+
+And as the long, sweet days passed by, the look in her eyes grew clearer,
+--the look that reminded us of the summer skies in early mornin', soft and
+dark, with a prophecy in them of the coming brightness and glory of the
+full day.
+
+[Illustration: TIRZAH ANN AND MAGGIE IN THE DEMOCRAT.]
+
+The mornin' of the last day in June Cicely was not so well; and I sent for
+the doctor in the mornin', and told Ury to have Tirzah Ann and Maggie come
+home and spend the day. Which they did.
+
+And in the afternoon she grew worse so fast, that towards night I sent for
+the doctor again.
+
+He didn't give any hope, and said the end was very near. A little before
+night the boys come,--Thomas Jefferson and Whitfield.
+
+The sun went down; and it was a clear, beautiful evenin', though there was
+no moon. All was still in the house: the lamp was lighted, but the doors
+and windows was open, and the smell of the blossoms outside come in sweet;
+and every thing seemed so peacful and calm, that we could not feel
+sorrowful, much as we loved her.
+
+She had wanted the boy on the bed with her; and I told Josiah and the
+children we would go out, and leave her alone with him. Only, the doctor
+sot by the window, with the lamp on a little stand by the side of him, and
+the mornin'-glories hangin' their clusters down between him and the sweet,
+still night outside.
+
+Cicely's voice was very low and faint; but we could hear her talkin' to
+him, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was all
+still, and we heard the doctor go to the bedside; and we all went in,--
+Josiah and the children and me. And as we stood there, a light fell on
+Cicely's face,--every one in the room saw it,--a white, pure light, like
+no other light on earth, unless it was something like that wonderful new
+light--that has a soul. It was something like that clear white light,
+falling through a soft shade. It was jest as plainly visible to us as the
+lamplight at the other end of the room.
+
+It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on her
+smilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from us
+all. For that strange, beautiful glow on her face wrapped her about,
+separated her from us all, who stood outside.
+
+The boy had fallen asleep, his dimpled arms around her neck, and his
+moist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to her
+heart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed the
+boy.
+
+She heard voices we could not hear, for she answered them in low tones,--
+contented, happy tones. She saw faces we couldn't see, for she looked at
+them with wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us, fur away
+from us who loved her,--we who were on this earth still. Love still held
+her here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the human; but her
+sweet soul had got with its true kindred, the pure in heart.
+
+[Illustration: DEATH OF CICELY.]
+
+But still her arms was round the boy,--white, soft arms of flesh, that
+held him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes on
+him; and, oh! what a look that was,--a look of such full peace, and
+rapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all that
+should happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, had
+blossomed, and bore the ripe fruit of blessedness.
+
+At last that beautiful light grew dimmer, and more dim, till it was gone--
+gone with the pure soul of our sweet Cicely.
+
+That night, way along in the night, I wuzn't sleeping, and I wuzn't
+crying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in my
+mind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could never
+forget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when they
+would see an angel standin' with furled wings outside their tents.
+
+I thought Josiah was asleep; but it seems he wuzn't, for he spoke out sort
+o' decided like,--
+
+"Most probable it was the lamp."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+It was a lovely mornin' about three weeks after Cicely's death. Josiah had
+to go to Jonesville to mill, and the boy wanted to go to; and so I put on
+his little cloak and hat, and told him he might go.
+
+We didn't act cast down and gloomy before the boy, Josiah and me didn't.
+He had worried for his ma dretfully, at first. But we had made every thing
+of him, and petted him. And I had told him that she had gone to a lovely
+place, and was there a waitin' for him. And I would say it to him with as
+cheerful a face as I could. (I knew I could do my own cryin', out to one
+side.)
+
+And he believed me. He believed every word I said to him. And he would ask
+me sights and sights of questions about "the _place_."
+
+And "if it was inside the gate, that uncle Josiah had read about,--that
+gate that was big and white, like a pearl? And if it would float down
+through the sky some day, and stand still in front of him? And would the
+gate swing open so he could see into the City? and would it be all
+glorious with golden streets, and shining, and full of light? And would
+his mamma Cicely stand just inside, and reach out her arms to him?--those
+pretty white arms."
+
+And then the boy would sob and cry. And I'd soothe him, and swaller hard,
+and say "Yes," and didn't think it was wicked, when he would be a sobbin'
+so.
+
+And then he'd ask, "Would she take him in her arms, and be glad to see her
+own little boy again? And would he have long to wait?"
+
+And I'd comfort him, and tell him, "No, it wouldn't be but a little time
+to wait."
+
+And didn't think it was wicked, for it wuzn't long anyway. For "our days
+are but shadows that flee away."
+
+Wall, he loved us, some. And we loved him, and did well by him; and bein'
+a child, we could sometimes comfort him with childish things.
+
+And this mornin' he wus all excitement about goin' to Jonesville with his
+uncle Josiah. And I gin him some pennys to get some oranges for him and
+the babe, and they set off feelin' quite chirk.
+
+And I sot down to mend a vest for my Josiah. And I was a settin' there a
+mendin' it,--one of the pockets had gin out, and it was frayed round the
+edges.
+
+And I sot there a sewin' on that fray, peaceful and calm and serene as the
+outside of the vest, which was farmer's satin, and very smooth and
+shinin'. The weather also wus as mild and serene as the vest, if not
+serener. I had got my work all done up as slick as a pin: the floor
+glittered like yellow glass, the stove shone a agreable black, a good
+dinner was a cookin'. And I sot there, happy, as I say; for though, when I
+had done so much work that mornin', if that vest had belonged to anybody
+else, it would have looked like a stent to me, I didn't mind it, for it
+was for my Josiah: and love makes labor light,--light as day.
+
+I was jest a thinkin' this, and a thinkin' that though I had jest told
+Josiah, from a sense of duty, that "he had broke that pocket down by
+luggin' round so much stuff in it, and there was no sense in actin' as if
+he could carry round a hull car-load of things in his vest-pocket;" though
+I had spoken to him thus, from a sense of duty, tryin' to keep him
+straight and upright in his demeaner,--still, I was a thinkin' how
+pleasant it wuz to work for them you loved, and that loved you: for though
+he had snapped me up considerable snappish, and said "he should carry
+round in his pockets as much as he was a minter; and if I didn't want to
+mend it, I could let it alone," and had throwed it down in the corner, and
+slammed the door considerable hard when he went out, still, I knew that
+this slight pettishness was only the light bubbles that rises above the
+sparkling wine. I knew his love for me lay pure and clear and sparklin' in
+the very depths of his soul.
+
+I was a settin' there, thinkin' about it, and thinkin' how true love, such
+as mine and hisen, glorified a earthly existence, when all of a sudden I
+heard a rap come onto the kitchen door right behind me; and I says, "Come
+in." And a tall, slim feller entered, with light hair, and sort o' thin,
+and a patient, determined countenance onto him. A sort of a persistent
+look to him, as if he wuzn't one to be turned round by trifles. I didn't
+dislike his looks a mite at first, and sot him a chair.
+
+But little did I think what was a comin'. For, if you will believe it, he
+hadn't much more than got sot down when he says to me right there, in the
+middle of the forenoon, and right to my face,--the mean, miserable,
+lowlived scamp,--says he, right there, in broad daylight, and without
+blushing, or any thing, says he,--
+
+"I called this morning, mom, to see if I couldn't sell you a feller."
+
+"Sell me a feller!" I jest made out to say, for I wus fairly paralyzed by
+his impudence. "Sell me a feller!" "Yes: I have got some of the best kinds
+they make, and I didn't know but I could sell you one."
+
+Sez I, gettin' my tongue back, "Buy a feller! you ask me, at my age, and
+with my respectability, and after carryin' round such principles as I have
+been carryin' round for years and years, you ask me to buy a feller!"
+
+"Yes: I didn't know but you would want one. I have got the best kind there
+is made."
+
+"I'll let you know, young man," says I, "I'll let you know that I have got
+a feller of my own, as good a one as was ever made, one I have had for 20
+years and over."
+
+"Wall, mom," says he, with that stiddy, determined way of hisen, "a feller
+that you have had for 20 years must be out of gear by this time."
+
+"Out of gear!" says I, speakin' up sharp. "You will be out of gear
+yourself, young man, if I hear any more such talk out of your head."
+
+"I hope you will excuse me, mom," says he, in that patient way of hisen.
+"It hain't my way to run down anybody's else's fellers."
+
+"Wall, I guess you hadn't better try it again in this house," says I
+warmly. "I guess it won't be very healthy for you."
+
+[Illustration: AGENT TRYING TO SELL SAMANTHA A FELLER.]
+
+"Can't I sell you some other attachment, mom? I have got 'em of all
+kinds."
+
+"Sell me another attachment? No, sir. You can't sell me another
+attachment. My attachment is as firm and endurin' as the rocks, and has
+always been, and is one not to be bought and sold."
+
+"I presume yours was good in the day of 'em, mom, but they must be old-
+fashioned. I have the very best and newest attachments of all kinds. But I
+make a specialty of my fellers. You'd better let me sell you a feller,
+mom."
+
+I declare for't, my first thought was, to turn him right outdoors, and
+shet the door in his face. And then agin, I thought, I am a member of the
+meetin'-house. I must be patient and long sufferin', and may be here is a
+chance for me to do good. Thinks'es I, if I was ever eloquent in a good
+cause, I must be now. I must convince him of the nefariousness of his
+conduct. And if soarin' in eloquence can do it, why, I must soar. And so I
+begun.
+
+Says I, wavin' my right hand in a broad, soarin', eloquent wave, "Young
+man, when you talk about buyin' and sellin' a feller, you are talkin' on a
+solemn subject,--buyin and sellin' attachments! Buyin' and sellin'
+fellers! It hain't nothin' new to me. I've hearn tell of such things, but
+little did I suppose it was a subject I should ever be tackled on.
+
+"But I have hearn of it. I have hearn of wimmen sellin' themselves to the
+highest bidder, with a minister for auctioneer and salesman. I have hearn
+of fathers and mothers sellin' beauty and innocence and youth to wicked
+old age for money--sellin' 'em right in the meetin'-house, under the very
+shadow of the steeple.
+
+[Illustration: THEM THAT SELL DOVES.]
+
+"Jerusalem hain't the only village where God's holy temple has been
+polluted by money-changers and them that sell doves. Many a sweet little
+dove of a girl is made by her father and mother, and other old money-
+changers, to walk up to God's holy altar, and swear to a lie. They think
+her tellin' that lie, makes the infamous bargain more sacred, makes the
+infamous life they have drove her into more respectable.
+
+"There was One who cleansed from such accursed traffic the old Jewish
+temples, but He walks no more with humanity. If he did, would he not walk
+up the broad aisles of our orthodox churches in American cities, and
+release these doves, and overthrow the plots of these money-changers?
+
+"But let me tell 'em, that though they can't see Him, He is there; and the
+lash of His righteous wrath will surely descend, not upon their bodies,
+but upon their guilty souls, teachin' them how much more terrible it is to
+sell a life, with all its rich dowery of freedom, happiness, purity,
+immortality."
+
+Here my breath gin out, for I had used my very deepest principle tone; and
+it uses up a fearful ammount of wind, and is tuckerin' beyend what any one
+could imagine of tucker. You _have_ to stop to collect breath.
+
+And he looked at me with that same stiddy, patient, modest look of hisen;
+and says he, in that low, determined voice,--
+
+"What you say, madam, is very true, and even beautiful and eloquent: but
+time is valuable to me; and as I said, I stopped here this morning to see
+if I could sell"--
+
+"I know you did: I heard you with my own ears. If it had come through two
+or three, or even one, pair of ears besides my own, I couldn't have
+believed 'em--I never could have believed that any human creeter, male or
+female, would have dared to stand up before me, and try to sell me a
+feller! _Sell_ a feller to me! Why, even in my young days, do you
+s'pose I would ever try to _buy_ a feller?
+
+"No, sir! fellers must come free and spontaneous? or not at all. Never was
+I the woman to advance one step towards any feller in the way of
+courtship--havin' no occasion for it, bein' one that had more offers than
+I knew what to do with, as I often tell my husband, Josiah Allen, now, in
+our little differences of opinion. 'Time and agin,' as I tell him, 'I
+might have married, but held back.' And never would I have married, never,
+had not love gripped holt of my very soul, and drawed me along up to the
+marriage alter. I loved the feller I married, and he was the only feller
+in the hull world for me."
+
+Says he in that low, gentle tone, and lookin' modest and patient as a
+lily, but as determined and sot as ever a iron teakettle was sot over a
+stove,--
+
+"You are under a mistake, mom."
+
+Says I, "Don't you tell me that agin if you know what is good for
+yourself. I guess I know my own mind. I was past the age of whifflin', and
+foolin' round. I married that feller from pure love, and no other reason
+under the heavens. For there wuzn't any other reason only jest that, why I
+_should_ marry him."
+
+And for a moment, or two moments, my mind roamed back onto that old,
+mysterious question that has haunted me more or less through my natural
+life, for over twenty years. _Why_ did I marry Josiah Allen? But I
+didn't revery on it long. I was too agitated, and wrought up; and I says
+agin, in tones witherin' enough to wither him,--
+
+"The idee of sellin' me a feller!"
+
+But the chap didn't look withered a mite: he stood there firm and
+immovible, and says he,--
+
+"I didn't mean no offense, mom. Sellin' attachments is what I get my
+living by"--
+
+"Wall, I should ruther not get a livin'," says I, interruptin' of him. "I
+should ruther not live."
+
+"As I said, mom, I get my livin' that way: and one of your neighbors told
+me that your feller was an old one, and sort o' givin' out; and I have got
+'em with all the latest improvements, and--and she thought mebby I could
+sell you one."
+
+"You miserable coot you!" says I. "Do you stop your impudent talk, or I
+will holler to Josiah. What do you s'pose I want with another feller? Do
+you s'pose I'd swap Josiah Allen for all the fellers that ever swarmed on
+the globe? What do you s'pose I care for the latest improvements? If a
+feller was made of pure gold from head to feet, with diamond eyes and a
+garnet nose, do you s'pose he would look so good to me as Josiah Allen
+duz?
+
+"And I would thank the neighbers to mind their own business, and let my
+affairs alone. What if he is a gettin' old and wore out? What if he is a
+givin' out? He is always kinder spindlin' in the spring of the year. Some
+men winter harder than others: he is a little tizicky, and breathes short,
+and his liver may not be the liver it was once; but he will come round all
+right when the weather moderates. And mebby they meant to hint and
+insinuate sunthin' about his bein' so bald, and losin' his teeth.
+
+"But I'll let you know, and I'll let the neighbors know, that I didn't
+marry that man for hair; I didn't marry that man for teeth, and a few
+locks more or less, or a handful of teeth, has no power over that love,--
+that love that makes me say from the very depths of my soul, that my
+feller is one of a thousand."
+
+"I hain't disputed you, mom," says he, with his firm, patient look. "I
+dare presume to say that your feller was good in the day of such fellers.
+But every thing has its day: we make fellers far different now."
+
+Says I sarcasticly, givin' him quite a piercin' look, "I know they do:
+I've seen 'em."
+
+"Yes, they make attachments now very different: yours is old-fashioned."
+
+"Yes, I know it is: I know that love, such love as hisen and mine, and I
+know that truth and fidelity and constancy, _are_ old-fashioned. But
+I thank God that our souls are clothed with that beautiful old fashion,
+that seamless, flawless robe that wus cut out in Eden, and a few true
+souls have wore ever since."
+
+"But your attachment will grow older and older, and give out entirely
+after a while. What will you do then?"
+
+"My attachment will _never_ give out."
+
+"But mom"--
+
+"No, you needn't argue and contend--I say it will _never_ give out.
+It is a heavenly gift dropped down from above, entirely unbeknown. True
+love is not sought after, it comes; and when it comes, it stays. Talk
+about love gettin' old--love _never_ grows old; talk about love
+goin'--love _never_ goes: that which goes is not love, though it has
+been called so time and agin. Talk about love dyin'--why, it _can't_
+die, no more than the souls can, in which its sweet light is born. Why, it
+is a flame that God Himself kindles: it is a bit of His own brightness a
+shinin' down through the darkness of our earthly life, and is as immortal
+and indestructible as His own glory.
+
+"It is the only fountain of Eternal Youth that gushes up through this
+dreary earthly soil, for the refreshin' of men and wimmen, in which the
+weary soul can bathe itself, and find rest."
+
+"Sometimes," says he, sort o' dreamily, "sometimes we repair old fellers."
+
+"Wall, you won't repair my feller, I can let you know that. I won't have
+him repaired. The impudence of the hull idee," says I, roustin' up afresh,
+"goes ahead of any thing I ever dreamed of, of impudence. Repair my
+feller! I don't want him any different. I want him jest as he is. I would
+scorn to repair him. I _could_ if I wanted to,--his teeth could be
+sharpened up, what he has got, and new ones sot in. And I could cover his
+head over with red curls; or I could paint it black, and paste transfer
+flowers onto it. I could have a sot flower sot right on the top of his
+bald head, and a trailin' vine runnin' round his forward. Or I could trim
+it round with tattin', if I wanted to, and crystal beads. I could repair
+him up so he would look gay. But do you s'pose that any artificials that
+was ever made, or any hair, if it was as luxuriant as Ayer'ses Vigor,
+could look so good to me as that old bald head that I have seen a shinin'
+acrost the table from me for so many years?
+
+[Illustration: JOSIAH AFTER BEING REPAIRED.]
+
+"I tell you, there is memories and joys and sorrows a clusterin' round
+that head, that I wouldn't swap for all the beauty and the treasures of
+the world.
+
+"Memories of happy mornin's dewy fresh, with cool summer breezes a comin'
+in through the apple-blows by the open door, and the light of the happy
+sunrise a shinin' on that old bald head, and then gleamin' off into my
+happy heart.
+
+"There is memories of pleasant evenin' hours, with the tea-table drawed up
+in front of the south door, and the sweet southern wind a comin' in over
+the roses, and the tender light of the sunset, and the waverin' shadows of
+the honeysuckles and mornin'-glorys, fallin' on us, wrappin' us all round,
+and wrappin' all of the rest of the world out."
+
+Mebby the young chap said sunthin' here, but it was entirely unbeknown to
+me; though I thought I heard the murmur of his voice makin' a sort of a
+tinklin' accompinment to my thoughts, sunthin' like the babble of a brook
+a runnin' along under forest boughs, when the wind with its mighty melody
+is sweepin' through 'em. Great emotions was sweepin' along with power, and
+couldn't be stayed. And I went right on, not sensin' a thing round me,--
+
+"There is memories of sabbath drives, in fair June mornin's, through the
+old lane alder and willow fringed, with the brook runnin' along on one
+side of it; where the speckled trout broke the Sunday quiet by dancin' up
+through the brown and gold shadows of the cool water, and the odor of the
+pine woods jest beyend comin' fresh and sweet to us.
+
+[Illustration: "GOIN' TO THE REVIVAL MEETING."]
+
+"Memories of how that road and that face looked in the week-day dusk, as
+we sot out for the revival meetin', when the sun had let down his long
+bars of gold and crimson and yellow, and had got over 'em, and sunk down
+behind 'em out of sight. And we could ketch glimpses through the willow-
+sprays of them shinin' bars a layin' down on the gray twilight field. And
+fur away over the green hills and woods of the east, the moon was a
+risin', big and calm and silvery. And we could hear the plaintive evenin'
+song of the thrush, and the crickets' happy chirp, till we got nearer the
+schoolhouse, when they sort o' blended in with 'There is a fountain filled
+with blood,' and 'Come, ye disconsolate.'
+
+"And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles, shone
+down and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as he helped
+me out of the wagon.
+
+"Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of peace
+and happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every time
+about the eternal hills, and the shadow of the Rock, and the Everlastin'
+Arms that was a holdin' us both up, me and Josiah, and the Everlastin'
+Love that was wrappin' us round, helpin' us onward by these very joys,
+these very sorrows.
+
+"Memories of the midnight lamp lightin' it up in the chamber of the sick,
+in the long, lonesome hours before day-dawn.
+
+"Memories of its bendin' over the sick ones in happier mornin's, as he
+carried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places at
+the table.
+
+"Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under the
+rainbow when the storm had passed. It stands out from a background of
+winter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightness
+of them seasons a hangin' over it.
+
+"Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier and
+more blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a little
+coffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by me
+under the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for the
+future.
+
+"That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart, like
+a beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do you
+s'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to me as
+that duz? Do you s'pose I will ever have it repaired upon? never! I
+_won't_ repair him. I won't have him dickered and fooled with. Not at
+all.
+
+"He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth if
+he hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long as
+Josiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and keep it
+down here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as he is
+too.
+
+"And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!" says I, kinder
+comin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen, and
+gossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations. And as
+I lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on one foot, with
+his watch, a big silver one, in his hand, and gazin' pensively onto it;
+and he says,--
+
+"Your remarks are worthy, mom--but somewhat lengthy," says he, in a voice
+of pain; "nearly nine moments long: but," says he, sort o' bracin' up agin
+on both feet, "I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come into this
+neighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated that I got the
+idee, from what they said, that your feller didn't work good."
+
+"Didn't work good! You impudent creeter you! What of it? What if he don't
+work at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the neighbors? I
+guess he is able to lay by for a few days if he wants to."
+
+"You are laborin' under a mistake, mom."
+
+"No, I hain't laborin' under no mistake! And don't you tell me agin that I
+be. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest; and
+whose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get to
+goin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low as to
+watch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute they set
+down; when I can't find nothin' nobler to do,--I'll spend my time talkin'
+about hens' teeth, and lettis seed."
+
+Says he, lookin' as amiable and patient as a factory-cloth rag-babe, but
+as determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic,--
+
+"You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I could
+fix over your feller if you wanted me to"--
+
+Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on this
+seethin' tumult of anger fell this one calmin' word,--_Meeting-
+house!_ I felt I must be calm,--calm and impressive; so says I,--
+
+"You need not repeat your infamous proposal. I say to you agin, that the
+form where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may be
+more beautiful, and even taller, but they don't have the same look to 'em.
+It is one of the strangest things," says I, fallin' agin' a little ways
+down into a revery,--
+
+"It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion large
+and boundless enough to fill eternity and old space itself, should all be
+gathered up and centered into so small a temple, and such a lookin' one,
+too, sometimes," says I pensively, as I thought it over, how sort o'
+meachin' and bashful lookin' Josiah Allen wuz, when I married to him. And
+how small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it can
+be, but so it is.
+
+"_Why_ Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lot
+entertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell you
+plain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should ask me
+where Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go, it
+stays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free gifts
+from above, free as the sun, or the showers--that fall down in a drouth--
+and perfectly unbeknown, like them. Such a love is oncalculatin', givin'
+all, unquestionin', unfearin', no dickering no holdin' back lookin' for
+better chances."
+
+"Yes, mom," says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one foot
+some like a patient old gander in the fall of the year.
+
+"Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your very
+sociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is really
+consistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I first come
+in, I merely called to see if I could sell you"--
+
+"Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heard
+from mortal lips, be he male, or be he female. The idee of _me_,
+Josiah Allen's wife, who has locked arms with principle, and has kep'
+stiddy company with it, for years and years--the idee of _me_ buyin'
+a feller! I dare persume to say"--
+
+Says I more mildly, as he took up his hat and little box he had, and
+started for the door,--and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so soon, I
+felt softer towards him, as folks will towards burdens when they are bein'
+lifted from 'em,--
+
+"I dare persume to say, you thought I was a single woman, havin' been told
+time and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair complected. I
+won't think," says I, feelin' still softer towards him as I see him a
+openin' the door,--
+
+"I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made your
+infamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' human
+bein', married or single."
+
+He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable of
+a meek voice,--
+
+"I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest firm
+in North America."
+
+"What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if he
+belongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle--that is what I am a
+workin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin' a
+feller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that had
+the riches of Creshus; it wouldn't make a mite of difference to me.
+
+"As the poet Mr. Burns says,--I have heard Thomas J. repeat it time and
+agin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right, but
+the meanin' is,--
+
+"Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller is
+a feller for all that."
+
+But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind and
+eloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing--if he didn't turn round at
+the foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient, determined
+attitude of hisen, say, says he,--
+
+[Illustration: "CAN'T I SELL YOU A FELLER?"]
+
+"You are mistaken, mom. I merely stopped this mornin' to see if I could
+sell you"--
+
+But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the west
+chamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't know how
+long he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come down to get
+dinner, and that was all I cared for.
+
+I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you, my
+eyes fairly snapped, I was that mad and rousted up about it: but he said,--
+
+"He believed it was a sewin'-machine man, and wanted to sell me a feller
+for my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent in
+Jonesville that was a sendin' out agents with all sorts of attachments,
+some with hemmers, and some with fellers."
+
+But I didn't believe a word of it: I believe he was _mean_. A mean,
+low-lived, insultin' creeter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Wall, Cicely died in June; and how the days will pass by, whether we are
+joyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September had
+stepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and curchied
+to us (allegory).
+
+Ah, yes! time passes by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the days
+pass slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter.
+
+But the time, though goin' fast, had passed by very quietly and peacefully
+to Josiah Allen and me.
+
+Every thing on the farm wus prosperous. The children was well and happy;
+the babe beautiful, and growin' more lovely every day.
+
+Ury had took his money, and bought a good little house and 4 acres of land
+in our neighborhood, and had took our farm for the next and ensuin' year.
+And they was happy and contented. And had expectations. They had (under my
+direction) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely pilgrimage
+had seemed to pass from Philury's mind.
+
+The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better and
+better, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over 50
+questions on one subject, or from 50 to 60; and so we got along first-
+rate.
+
+And we loved him. Why, there hain't no tellin' how we did love him. And he
+would talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that he
+would see her bime by, and that she loved him now jest as much as ever,
+and that she _wanted him_ to be a _good boy_.
+
+And he wuz a beautiful boy, if his chin wuz sort o' weak. He would try to
+tell the truth, and do as I would tell him to--and would, a good deal of
+the time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and repeat
+lots of Scripture passages, and would ask more'n 100 questions about 'em,
+if I would let him.
+
+There was one verse I made him repeat every night after he said his
+prayers: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."
+
+And I always would say to him, earnest and deep, that his ma was pure in
+heart.
+
+And he'd say, "Does she see God now?"
+
+And I'd say, "Yes."
+
+And he would say, "When shall I see Him?"
+
+And I'd say, "When you are good enough."
+
+And he'd say, "If I was good enough, could I see Him now?"
+
+And I would say, "Yes."
+
+And then he would tell me that he would try to be good; and I would say,
+"Wall, so do."
+
+And late one afternoon, a bright, sunny afternoon, he got tired of
+playin'. He had been a horse, and little Let Peedick had been a drivin'
+him. I had heard 'em a whinnerin' out in the yard, and a prancin', and a
+hitchin' each other to the post.
+
+But he had got tired about sundown, and come in, and leaned up against my
+lap, and asked me about 88 questions about his ma and the City. He had
+never forgot what his uncle Josiah had read about it, and he couldn't seem
+to talk enough about it.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOY AND LET PEEDICK PLAYING HORSE.]
+
+And says he, with a dreamy look way off into the glowin' western sky, "My
+mamma Cicely said it would swing right down out of heaven some day, and
+would open, and I could walk in; and don't you believe mamma will stand
+just inside of the gate as she used to, and say, 'Here comes my own little
+boy'?"
+
+And he wus jest a askin' me this,--and it beats all, how many times he had
+tackled me on this very subject,--when Whitfield drove up in a great
+hurry. Little Samantha Joe had been taken sick, very sick, and extremely
+sudden.
+
+Scarlet-fever was round, and she and the boy had both been exposed. I was
+all excitement and agitation; and I hurried off without changin' my dress,
+or any thing. But I told Josiah to put the boy to bed about nine.
+
+Wall, there was a uncommon sunset that night. The west was all aflame with
+light. And as we rode on towards Jonesville right towards it,--though very
+anxious about the babe,--I drawed Whitfield's attention to it.
+
+The hull of the west did look, for all the world, like a great, shinin'
+white gate, open, and inside all full of radience, rose, and yellow, and
+gold light, a streamin' out, and changin', and glowin', movin' about, as
+clouds will.
+
+It seemed sometimes, as if you could almost see a white, shadowy figure,
+inside the gate, a lookin' out, and watchin' with her arms reached out;
+and then it would all melt into the light again, as clouds will.
+
+It wus the beautifulest sunset I had seen, that year, by far. And we
+s'pose, from what we could learn afterwards, that the boy, too, was
+attracted by that wonderful glory in the west, and strolled out to the
+orchard to look at it. It wus a favorite place with him, anyway. And there
+wus a certain tree that he loved to lay under. A sick-no-further apple. It
+wus the very tree I found him under that day in the spring, a lookin' up
+into the sky, a watchin' for the City to come down from heaven. You could
+see a good ways from there off into the west, and out over the lake. And
+the sunset must have looked beautiful from there, anyway.
+
+Wall, my poor companion Josiah wus all rousted up in his mind about the
+babe, and he never thought of the boy till it was half-past nine; and then
+he hurried off to find him, skairt, but s'posen he was up on his bed with
+his clothes on, or asleep on the lounges, or carpets, or somewhere.
+
+[Illustration: PAUL LOOKING AT THE SUNSET.]
+
+But he couldn't find him: he hunted all over the house, and out in the
+barn, and the door-yard, and the street; and then he rousted up Mr.
+Gowdey's folks, our nearest neighbors, to see if they could help find him.
+
+Wall, Miss Gowdey, when she wus a bringin' in her clothes,--it was Monday
+night,--she had seen him out in the orchard under the sick-no-further
+tree.
+
+And there they found him, fast asleep--where they s'pose he had fell
+asleep unexpected to himself.
+
+It wus then almost eleven o'clock, and he was wet with dew: the dew was
+heavy that night. And when they rousted him up, he was so hoarse he
+couldn't speak. And before mornin' he was in a high fever. They sent for
+me and the doctor at daybreak. Little Samantha Joe wus better: it only
+proved to be a hard cold that ailed her.
+
+But the boy had the scarlet-fever, so the doctor said. And he grew worse
+fast. He didn't know me at all when I got home, but wus a talkin' fast
+about his mamma Cicely; and he asked me "If the gate had swung down, for
+him to go through into the City, and if his mamma was inside, reachin' out
+her arms to him?"
+
+And then he would get things all mixed up, and talk about things he had
+heard of, and things he hadn't heard of. And then he would talk about how
+bright it was inside the gate, and how he see it from the orchard. And so
+we knew he had been attracted out by the bright light in the west.
+
+And then he would talk about the strangest things. His little tongue
+couldn't be still a minute; but it never could, for that matter.
+
+Till along about the middle of the afternoon he become quiet, and grew so
+white and still that I knew before the doctor told me, that we couldn't
+keep the boy.
+
+And I thought, and couldn't help it, of what Cicely had worried so about;
+and though my heart sunk down and down, to think of givin' the boy up,--
+for I loved him,--yet I couldn't help thinkin' that with his temperament,
+and as the laws was now, the grave was about the only place of safety that
+the Lord Himself could find for the boy.
+
+And it wus about sundown that he died. I had been down-stairs for
+somethin' for him; and as I went back into the room, I see his eyes was
+wide open, and looked natural.
+
+[Illustration: "SAY!"]
+
+And as I bent over him, he looked up at me, and said in a faint voice, but
+rational,--
+
+"Say"--
+
+And I couldn't help a smilin' right there, with the tears a runnin' down
+my face like rain-water. He wanted to ask some question.
+
+But he couldn't say no more. His little, eager, questionin' soul was too
+fur gone towards that land where the hard questions we can't answer here,
+will be made plain to us.
+
+But he looked up into my face with that sort of a questionin' look, and
+then up over my head, and beyend it--and beyend--and I see there settled
+down over his face the sort of a satisfied look that he would have when I
+had answered his questions; and I sort o' smiled, and said to myself, I
+guessed the Lord had answered it.
+
+And so he went through the gate of the City, and was safe. And that is the
+way God took care of the boy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sweet Cicely
+by Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)
+
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