[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 thinkmore 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 Cicelybetter 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 thebest: 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 areason. 

"I did it, " says I, a comin' out still plainer, --"I did it to keep fromlyin'. "

"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 intothe 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, thatJosiah Allen was telegrafted to, unexpected. His niece Cicely and herlittle boy was goin' to pass through Jonesville the next day on her way tovisit 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 thetelegraf ten minutes, was out killin' a hen. The plumpest one in the flockwas the order I give; and I wus a beginnin' to make a fuss, and cook upfor her. 

We loved her jest about as well as we did Tirzah Ann. Sweet Cicely waswhat we used to call her when she was a girl. Sweet Cicely is a plant thathas a pretty white posy. And our niece Cicely was prettier and purer andsweeter than any posy that ever grew: so we thought then, and so we thinkstill. 

[Illustration: JOSIAH TELLING THE NEWS TO SAMANTHA. ]

Her mother was my companion's sister, --one of a pair of twins, Mary andMaria, that thought the world of each other, as twins will. Their motherdied when they wus both of 'em babies; and they wus adopted by a richaunt, 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 youngwoman; and Cicely wus her only child. And the two wus bound up in eachother 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 thedoctor ordered her out into the country for her health; and she and littleCicely spent the hull of that summer with us. Cicely wus about ten; andhow we did love that girl! Her mother couldn't bear to have her out of hersight; and I declare, we all of us wus jest about as bad. And from thattime they used to spend most all of their summers in Jonesville. The airagreed with 'em, and so did I: we never had a word of trouble. And we usedto visit them quite a good deal in the winter season: they lived in thecity. 

Wall, as Cicely got to be a young girl, I used often to set and look ather, and wonder if the Lord could have made a prettier, sweeter girl if hehad 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'poseit wus bein' always with her mother that made her seem older and morethoughtful than girls usially are. It seemed as if her great dark eyes wusfull of wisdom beyend--fur beyend--her years, and sweetness too. Never wusthere 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 wouldcome to look closer, you would see there was nothing sickly in hercomplexion, only it was very white and smooth, --a good deal like the purewhite 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 excitedabout any thing; and then it would all sort o' die out again into thatpure white. And over all her face, as sweet and womanly as it was, therewas a look of power, somehow, a look of strength, as if she would venturemuch, dare much, for them she loved. She had the gift, not always a happyone, 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 couldsee that in her face before you had been with her long enough to see it inher life. 

Her hair wus a soft, pretty brown, about the color of her eyes. And shewus a little body, slender, and sort o' plump too; and her arms and handsand neck wus soft and white as snow almost. 

Yes, we loved Cicely: and no one could blame us, or wonder at us forcallin' her after the posy Sweet Cicely; for she wus prettier than anyposy 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 rightafter the poor child, and brought her home with us. 

[Illustration: CICELY. ]

She lived, Cicely did, because she wus young, and couldn't die. And Josiahand me wus dretful good to her; and many's the nights that I have goneinto her room when I'd hear her cryin' way along in the night; many's thetimes I have gone in, and took her in my arms, and held her there, andcried with her, and soothed her, and got her to sleep, and held her in myarms like a baby till mornin'. Wall, she lived with us most a year thattime; and it wus about two years after, while she wus to some of herfather's folks'es (they wus very rich), that she met the young man shemarried, --Paul Slide. 

He wus a handsome young man, well-behaved, only he would drink a littleonce in a while: he'd got into the habit at college, where his mate wuswild, 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, onlyjest his chin. And I told Josiah, that how Cicely could marry a man withsuch 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 nochin at all hardly, " says I. "The place where his chin ort to be isnothin' 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 aftermarriage, and so, of course, the very first time in our two lives--Josiahcalled me a fool, a "dumb fool, " or jest the same as called me so. Hesays, "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 strongerfor 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 withsuch a chin. But, as I learned afterwards, she fell in love with him undera fur collar. It wus on a slay-ride. And he wuz very handsome from hismouth up, very: his mouth wuz ruther weak. It wus a case of love at firstsight, 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 hertemperament and nater, that love, if it did come to her, would come tostay, 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, whena 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 heridol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of gold, orholler: 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 tolove, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she foundout afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his headwith 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 heartout, 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 itwus 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 aroundhim, as to hold him back from any evil course. 

It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of follya woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of the idee, to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in its utteruselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done--not in 98 cases outof a 100 at least. 

Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to winher affection, --when he is on probation, as you may say, --to stop and turnround in his downward course, how can she expect he will after he has gother, and has let down his watch, so to speak?

But she loved him. And when I warned her with tears in my eyes, warned herthat mebby it wus more than her own safety and happiness that wusimperilled, I could see by the look in her eyes, though she didn't saymuch, that it wusn't no use for me to talk; for she wus one of theconstant natures that can't wobble round. And though I don't likewobblin', still I do honestly believe that the wobblers are happier thanthem that can't wobble. 

I could see jest how it wuz, and I couldn't bear to have her blamed. And Iwould tell folks, --some of the relations on her mother's side, --when theywould say, "What a fool she wus to have him!"--I'd say to 'em, "Wall, whena woman sees the man she loves goin' down to ruination, and tries tounlove him, she'll find out jest how much harder it is to unlove him thanto love him in the first place: they'll find out it is a tough job totackle. "

[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND THE "BLAMERS. "]

I said this to blamers of Cicely (relatives, the best blamers you can findanywhere). But, at the same time, it would have been my way, when he hadcome 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 asa rival to alcohol, and he might pay to that his attentions exclusivelyhereafter. 

But she didn't. And he promised sacred to abstain, and could, and did, formost a year; and she married him. 

But, jest before the marriage, I got so rousted up a thinkin' about what Ihad heard of him at college, --and I studied on his picture, which she hadsent me, took sideways too, and I could see plain (why, he hadn't no chinat all, as you may say; and his lips was weak and waverin' as ever lipswas, though sort o' amiable and fascinating), --and I got to forebodin' soabout 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 byanother. Why, I love him, aunt Samantha. "

You see, that meant a awful sight to her. And as she looked at me soearnest and solemn, with tears in them pretty brown eyes, there wus in herlook all that that word could possibly mean to any soul. 

But I cried into my white linen handkerchief, and couldn't help it, andcouldn'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. IfI could have taken her up in my arms, and run away with her then andthere, how much misery I could have saved her from! But I couldn't: I hadthe rheumatiz. And I had to give up, and go home disappointed, butcarryin' this thought home with me on my tower, --that I had done my dutyby our sweet Cicely, and could do no more. 

As I said, he promised firm to give up drinking. But, good land! whatcould you expect from that chin? That chin couldn't stand temptation if itcame in his way. At the same time, his love for Cicely was such, and hisgood heart and his natural gentlemanly intuitions was such, that, if hecould have been kep' out of the way of temptation, he would have been allright. 

If there hadn't been drinking-saloons right in front of that chin, if itcould have walked along the road without runnin' right into 'em, it wouldhave got along. That chin, and them waverin'-lookin', amiable lips, wouldn't have stirred a step out of their ways to get ruined anddisgraced: 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, orruther temptation kep' out of their way; and Cicely was happy, --radientlyhappy, as only such a nature as hern can be. Her face looked like amornin' 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 toforebode about the lower part of his face, I found 'em so happy andprosperous and likely. 

Paul wus very rich. He wus the only child: and his pa left 2 thirds of hisproperty to him, and the other third to his ma, which wus more than shecould ever use while she wus alive; and at her death it wus to go to Pauland his heirs. 

They owned most all of the village they lived in. His pa had owned thetownship the village was built on, and had built most all the villagehimself, and rented the buildings. He owned a big manufactory there, andthe buildings rented high. 

Wall, it wus in the second year of their marriage that that old collegechumb--(and I wish he had been chumbed by a pole, before he had ever gonethere). He had lost his property, and come down in the world, and had towork for a livin'; moved into that village, and opened a drinking-saloonand 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 wantedPaul's money; and he had a chin himself, and knew how to manage them thathadn'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 becausehe wus down in the world. He wouldn't have much to do with him, but itwouldn't do to not notice him at all. How curius, that out of good comesbad, and out of bad, good. That was a good-natured idee of Paul's if hehad 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. Hehadn'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, --slippedright 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 toslippin': her arms wuzn't strong enough. 

She went to the saloon-keeper, and cried, and begged of him not to sellher 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 hisbest 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 roughfloor 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 nochange. 

And he told her, speakin' in a dretful courteous way, "that he had the lawon his side: he had a license, and he should keep right on as he wasdoing. "

[Illustration: CICELY IN THE SALOON. ]

And so what could Cicely do? And time went on, carryin' Paul further andfurther 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 andhis mother wus half crazy; and they wus too proud, to the last, to tellthe servants more than they could help: so, when it got to be mostmornin', them two delicate women started out through the deep snow, to tryto find him, tremblin' at every little heap of snow that wus tumbled up inthe path in front of 'em; tremblin' and sick at heart with the agony anddread that wus rackin' their souls, as they would look over the coldfields of snow stretching on each side of the road, and thinkin' how thatface would look if it wus lying there staring with lifeless eyes uptowards the cold moonlight, --the face they had kissed, the face they hadloved, --and thinkin', too, that the change that had come to it--wascomin' to it all the time--was more cruel and hopeless than the change ofdeath. 

So they went on, clear to the saloon; and there they found him, --there helay, perfectly stupid, and dead with liquor. 

And they both, the broken-hearted mother and the broken-hearted wife, withthe tears running down their white cheeks, besought the saloon-keeper tolet him alone from that night. 

The mother says, "Paul is so good, that if you did not tempt him, enticehim 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 goagainst his own interests: if Paul chose to spend his money there, heshould take it. "

"Will you break our hearts?" cried the mother. 

"Will you ruin my husband, the father of my boy?" sobbed out Cicely, herbig, sorrowful eyes lookin' right through his soul--if he _had_ asoul. 

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 wantedthings changed, they must look further than him. He had a license. Thegreat Government of the United States had sold him, for a few dollars, theright to do just what he was doing. The law, and all the respectabilitythat the laws of our great and glorious Republic can give, bore him out inall his acts. The law was responsible for all the consequenses of hisacts: 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, pityto us who love him so, and who are forced to stand by powerless, and seehim going to ruin--we who would die for him willingly if it would do anygood. You _can_ do this. "

He was a little bit intoxicated, or he wouldn't have gid 'em the cruelsneer he did at the last, --though he sneeren polite, --a holdin' his hat inhis hand. 

"As I said, my dear madam, it is not I, it is the law; and I see no otherway for you ladies who feel so about it, only to vote, and change thelaws. "

"Would to God I _could!_" said the old white-haired mother, with hersolemn eyes lifted to the heavens, in which was her only hope. 

"Would to God I could!" repeated my sweet Cicely, with her eyes fastenedon the face of him who had promised to cherish her, and comfort her, andprotect her, layin' there at her feet, a mark for jeers and sneers, unableto speak a word, or lift his hand, if his wife and mother had been killedbefore him. 

But they couldn't do any thing. They would have lain their lives down forhim at any time, but that wouldn't do any good. The lowest, most ignorantlaborer in their employ had power in this matter, but they had none. Theyhad intellectual power enough, which, added to their utter helplessness, only made their burden more unendurable; for they comprehended to the fullthe knowledge of what was past, and what must come in the future unlesshelp came quickly. They had the strength of devotion, the strength ofunselfish love. 

They had the will, but they hadn't nothin' to tackle it onto him with, todraw him back. For their prayers, their midnight watches, their tears, didnot avail, as I said: they went jest so far; they touched him, but theylacked the tacklin'-power that was wanted to grip holt of him, and drawhim back. What they needed was the justice of the law to tackle theinjustice; and they hadn't got it, and couldn't get holt of it: so theyhad 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. Andone night, when the heavens was curtained with blackness, like a pall letdown to cover the accursed scene, he left Cicely with her pretty babyasleep on her bosom, went down to the saloon, got into a quarrel with thatvery friend of hisen, the saloon-keeper, over a game of billiards, --theywas 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 thenight before he got his sentence. 

[Illustration: PAUL SHOOTING HIS FRIEND. ]

Awful deed! Dreadful fate! But no worse, as I told Josiah when he wus agroanin' 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' downmy face like rain-water, --no worse because Cicely happened to be ourrelation, and we loved her as we did our own eyes. 

And our broad land is _full_ of jest such sufferin's, jest suchcrimes, 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 init: he believed in licensing this shame and disgrace and woe; he believedin makin' it respectable, and wrappin' round it the mantilly of the law, to keep it in a warm, healthy, flourishin' condition. Why, he had helpeddo it himself; he had helped the United States lift up the mantilly; hehad voted for it. 

He squirmed, but turned it off by usin' his bandana hard, and sayin', in avoice all choked down with grief, --

"Oh, poor Cicely! poor girl!"

"Yes, " says I, "'poor girl!' and the law you uphold has made her; 'poorgirl'--has killed her; for she won't live through it, and you and theUnited States will see that she won't. "

He squirmed hard; and my feelin's for him are such that I can't bear tosee 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 hecried 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 thoughtshe 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 abrokenhearted woman too. Her heart broke, too, by the United States; andso I told Josiah, that little villain that got killed was only one of hisagents. Yes, her heart was broke; but she bore up for Cicely's sake andthe boy's. For it seemed as if she felt remorsful, and as if it was forthem that belonged to him who had ruined her life, to help her all theycould. 

Wall, after about three weeks Cicely begun to live. And so I wrote toJosiah that I guessed she would keep on a livin' now, for the sake of theboy. 

And so she did. And she got up from that bed a shadow, --a faint, paleshadow of the girl that used to brighten up our home for us. She was oursweet Cicely still. But she looked like that posy after the frost haswithered it, and with the cold moonlight layin' on it. 

Good and patient she wuz, and easy to get along with; for she seemed tohold earthly things with a dretful loose grip, easy to leggo of 'em. Andit didn't seem as if she had any interest at all in life, or care for anything that was a goin' on in the world, till the boy wus about four yearsold; 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 tohelp him in the future. 

[Illustration: CICELY AND THE BOY. ]

"She couldn't die, " she told me, "and leave him in a world that was sohard for boys, where temptations and danger stood all round her boy'spathway. Not only hidden perils, concealed from sight, so he mightpossibly escape them, but open temptations, open dangers, made as alluringas private avarice could make them, and made as respectable as dignifiedlegal enactments could make them, --all to draw her boy down the pathwayhis 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 onethat enticed him to drink. She went back further than them: she laid theblame 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 couldhave stopped drinking if he had wanted to. But then, I don't know as Icould 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 outsideaccordin', as folks be that have them looks; why, unless they wasspecially 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 sevengenerations of the Slide family. Paul's father wus a good man, had a goodface; took it from his mother: but his father, Paul's grandfather, died adrunkard. They have got a oil-portrait of him at Paul's old home: Istopped there on my way home from Cicely's one time. And for all the worldhe looked most exactly like Paul, --the same sort of a irresolute, handsome, weak, fascinating look to him. And all through them portraits Icould 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 hadalways lived in the family, and wus proud of it, but honest; and she knewthe story of the hull Slide race. 

And she said that every one of 'em that had that face had traitsaccordin'; 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, gotalong 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 rightdown 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 Idon't know but she's in the right ont. 

But as I said, when her child wus about four years old, Cicely took aturn, and begun to get all worked up and excited by turns a worryin' aboutthe 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 herhusband's death. She seemed to make an effort almost like that of a deadman 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 jestsuch 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 tothrow some safeguards around his future. What _could_ she do to helphim? 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 hercruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the sharp-soteyes of the babblin' world. 

But she endured it. She came out of her quiet home, where her heart hadbled in secret; she came out into society again; and she did every thingshe could, in her gentle, quiet way. She joined temperance societies, --helped push 'em forward with her money and her influence. With otherwhite-souled wimmen, gentle and refined as she was, she went into roughbar-rooms, and knelt on their floors, and prayed what her sad heart wusfull of, --for pity and mercy for her boy, and other mothers' boys, --prayedwith that fellowship of suffering that made her sweet voice as pathetic astears, and patheticker, so I have been told. 

But one thing hurt her influence dretfully, and almost broke her ownheart. Paul had left a very large property, but it wus all in the hands ofan executor until the boy wus of age. He wus to give Cicely a liberal, avery liberal, sum every year, but wus to manage the property jest as hethought 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 dretfulpolite, 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 ofCicely's buildings wus rented for that purpose; and there wus onebilliard-room. And what made it worse for Cicely seemin'ly, it wus her ownproperty, that she brought to Paul when she wus married, that wus investedin these buildings. At that time they wus rented for dry-goods stores, andgroceries. But the business of the manufactories had increased greatly;and there wus three times the population now there wus when she went thereto live, and more saloons wus needed; and these buildings wus handy; andthe executer had big prices offered to him, and he would rent 'em as hewanted to. And then, he wus something of a statesman; and he felt, as manybusiness men did, that they wus fairly sufferin' for more saloons toenrich the government. 

Why, out of every hundred dollars that them poor laboring-men had earnedso hardly, and paid into the saloons for that which, of course, wusruinous to themselves and families, and, of course, rendered themincapable of all labor for a great deal of the time, --why, out of thathundred dollars, as many as 2 cents would go to the government to enrichit. 

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' thepaupers, 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 mindto comprehend, it wus dretful profitable to the government. 

Now, if them poor laborin'-men had paid that 2 cents of theirn to thegovernment themselves, in the first place, in direct taxation, why, thatwouldn't have been statesmanship. That is a deep study, and has a greatmany 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 onematter; but she couldn't move him the width of a horse-hair, and he asmilin' all the time at her, and polite. He liked Cicely: nobody couldhelp likin' the gentle, saintly-souled little woman. But he wus sot: hewus makin' money fast by it, and she had to give up. 

And rough men and women would sometimes twit her of it, --of her propertybein' used to advance the liquor-traffic, and ruin men and wimmen; and shea feelin' like death about it, and her hands tied up, and powerless. Nowonder that her face got whiter and whiter, and her eyes bigger andmournfuller-lookin'. 

Wall, she kep' on, tryin' to do all she could: she joined the Woman'sTemperance Union; she spent her money free as water, where she thought itwould do any good, and brought up the boy jest as near right as she couldpossibly bring him up; and she prayed, and wept right when she wus abringin' of him, a thinkin' that _her_ property wus a bein' usedevery day and every hour in ruinin' other mothers' boys. And the boy'sface almost breakin' her heart every time she looked at it; for, though hewus jest as pretty as a child could be, the pretty rosy lips had the samegood-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 adimple 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, andcouldn'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 intothe settin'-room, and set him down; and my eyes looked dubersome at himthrough my specks. Cicely see it, see that dubersome look, though I triedto turn it off by kissin' him jest as hearty as I could after I had tookthe little black-robed figure of his mother, and hugged her close to myheart, and kissed her time and time agin. 

She always dressed in the deepest of mournin', and always would. I knewthat. 

Wall, we wus awful glad to see Cicely. I had had the old fireplace fixedin the front spare room, and a crib put in there for the boy; and I wentright up to her room with her. And when we had got there, I took her rightin my arms agin, as I used to, and told her how glad I wus, and howthankful I wus, to have her and the boy with us. 

The fire sparkled up on the old brass handirons as warm as my welcome. Herbed and the boy's bed looked white and cozy aginst the dark red of thecarpet and the cream-colored paper. And after I had lowered the prettyruffled muslin curtains (with red ones under 'em), and pulled a standforward, and lit a lamp, --it wus sundown, --the room looked cheerful enoughfor anybody, and it seemed as if Cicely looked a little less white andbrokenhearted. She wus glad to be with me, and said she wuz. But rightthere--before supper; and we could smell the roast chicken and coffee, havin' left the stair-door open--right there, before we had visited hardlyany, or talked a mite about other wimmen, she begun on what she wanted todo, and what she _must_ do, for the boy. 

I had told her how the boy had grown, and that sot her off. And from thatnight, every minute of her time almost, when she could without bein'impolite and troublesome (Cicely wus a perfect lady, inside and out), shewould talk to me about what she wanted to do for the boy, to have the lawschanged before he grew up; she didn't dare to let him go out into theworld 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 myhusband died; but I want to live now. Why, I _must_ live; I cannotdie, I dare not die until my boy is safer. I will work, I will die ifnecessary, for him. "

It wus the same old Cicely, I see, not carin' for herself, but carin' onlyfor them she loved. Lovin' little creeter, good little creeter, she alwayswuz, and always would be. And so I told Josiah. 

Wall, we had the boy set between us to the supper-table, Josiah and medid, in Thomas Jefferson's little high-chair. I had new covered it onpurpose 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 theboy asked 3 thousand and 85 questions about every thing under the sun andmoon, and things over 'em, and outside of 'em, and inside. 

Why, I panted for breath, but wouldn't give in. I was determined to useCicely 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 'emheld us up. And when we made the estimate, it wuzn't in a cross tone, butamiable, and almost winnin'. Josiah thought they went up into thetrillions. But I am one that never likes to set such things too high; andI said calmly, 3, 000 and 85. And finally he gin in that mebby it wuzn't nomore than that. 

Cicely told me she couldn't stay with us very long now; for her aunt Marywuz expectin' to go away to the Michigan pretty soon, to see a daughterwho wus out of health, --had been out of it for some time, --and she wanteda visit from her neice Cicely before she went. But she promised to comeback, and make a good visit on her way home. 

And so it was planned. The next day was Sunday, and Cicely wus too tiredwith 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 uncleJosiah sot in front; and Ury drove. Ury Henzy, he's our hired man, and atolerable good one, as hired men go. His name is Urias; but we always callhim Ury, --spelt U-r-y, Ury, --with the emphasis on the U. 

Wall, that day Elder Minkly preached. It wus a powerful sermon, about thecreation of the world, and how man was made, and the fall of Adam, andabout Noah and the ark, and how the wicked wus destroyed. It wus amiddlin' powerful sermon; and the boy sot up between Josiah and me, and wewus proud enough of him. He had on a little green velvet suit and a deeplinen collar; and he sot considerable still for him, with his eyes onElder Minkly's face, a thinkin', I guess, how he would put us through ourcatechism on the way home. And, oh! didn't he, didn't he do it? I s'posethings 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 thatnight wus the number of questions the boy asked on our way home, about thecreation, how the world wus made, and the ark--oh, how he harressed mypoor companion about the animals! "Did they drive 2 of all the animals inthe world in that house, uncle Josiah?"

[Illustration: GOING TO MEETING. ]

"Yes, " says Josiah. 

"2 elfants, and rinosterhorses, and snakes, and snakes, and bears, andtigers, 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 inmuskeeters?"

"I s'pose so. "

"_How_ could they drive in two muskeeters?"

"Oh! less stop talkin' for a spell--shet up your little mouth, " saysJosiah 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 aginon a new tack. 

"What for a lookin' place was paradise?" And then follered 800 questionsabout paradise. Josiah sweat, and offered to let the boy come back, andset with me. He had insisted, when we started from the meetin'-house, onhavin' 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. Idon'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 theapple-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, Icould kep' him from fallin' off;--and say, where was the Lord? Couldn't Hehave 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 wanta sweet apple?"

"Yes; and say! what kind of a apple was it that Adam eat? Was it a sweetapple, 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 justbecause a man eat an apple, and fell out of an apple-tree, when I neversaw 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 asingin' in a tone full of fag, "'In Adam's fall, we sinned all. '" Josiahis sound. 

"And be I a sinning now, uncle Josiah? and a falling? And is everybody asinning and a falling jest because that one man eat one apple, and fellout of an apple-tree? Say, is it _right_, uncle Josiah, for you andme, and everybody that is on the earth, to keep a falling, and keep afalling, and bein' blamed, and every thing, when we hadn't done any thing, and wasn't _there?_ And _say_, will folks always keep afalling?"

"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 anybodyfalls, why, why, mustn't they come to the bottom sometime? If there issomething 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' theintervue, and more hopelesser. 

"Wall, if God is in us, how can He lose us again? Wouldn't it be a losingHis 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 himover on the seat with me, and took the lines out of Ury's hands, and drovethe old mair at a rate that I told him wus shameful on Sunday, for aperfessor. 

[Illustration: "IT WUS ON A SLAY-RIDE "]

CHAPTER II. 

Wall, Cicely and the boy staid till Tuesday night. Tuesday afternoon thechildren wus all to home on a invitation. (I had a chicken-pie, and donewell by 'em. )

And nothin' to do but what Cicely and the boy must go home with 'em: theyjest 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 dayor two, and then go on to her aunt Mary's. But, as it turned out, thechildren urged her so, she stayed most two weeks. 

And the very next day but one after Cicely went to the children's--Anddon'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, orbroken dishes, or any thing. 

Wall, it wus the very next mornin' but one after Cicely had gone, and myvoice had actually begun to sound natural agin (the boy had kep' me hoarseas a frog answerin' questions). I wus whitewashin' the kitchen, havin' putit off while Cicely wus there; and there wus a man to work a patchin' upthe wall in one of the chambers, --and right there and then, Elburtus SmithGansey come. And truly, we found him as clever a critter as ever walkedthe earth. 

It wus jest before korkuss; and he wus kinder visatin' round amongst hisrelations, 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 70years old, it hain't much matter how much older they be: they are what youmay call old, anyway. 

But I think, as I said prior and beforehand, that he wus a 5th. His motherwus 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; andso, the korkuss bein' held in Jonesville, I s'pose he thought he'd comedown, 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 upin a city) are a sort of a bother. They require so much, and give you thefeelin', that, when you are a doin' your very best for 'em, they hain'tsatisfied. You see, some folks'es best hain't nigh so good as otherfolks'es 3d or 4th. 

But this feller--why! I liked him from the first minute I sot my eyes onhim. I hadn't seen him before sence I wus a child, and so didn't feel soawful well acquainted with him; or, that is, I didn't, as it were, feelintimate. You know, when you don't see anybody from the time you arebabies till you are married, and have lost a good many teeth, andconsiderable hair, you can't feel over and above intimate with 'em atfirst sight. 

But I liked him, he wus so unassuming and friendly, and took every thingso peaceable and pleasant. And he deserved better things than whathappened to him. 

You see, I wus a cleanin' house when he come, cleanin' the kitchen at thatout-of-the-way time of year on account of Cicely's visit, and on accountof repairin' that had promised to be done by Josiah Allen, and delayedfrom week to week, and month to month, as is the way with men. But finallyhe had got it done, and I wus ready to the minute with my brush andscourin'-cloth. 

I wus a whitewashin' when he come, and my pail of whitewash wus hung upover the kitchen-door; and I stood up on a table, a whitewashin' theceilin, when I heard a buggy drive up to the door, and stop. And I stoodstill, and listened; and then I heard a awful katouse and rumpus, and thenI heard hollerin'; and then I heard Josiah's voice, and somebody else'svoice, a talkin' back and forth, sort o' quick and excited. 

Now, some wimmen would have been skairt, and acted skairt; but I didn't. Ijest stood up on that table, cool and calm as a statue of Repose sculpedout of marble, and most as white (I wus all covered with whitewash), withmy 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 comeJosiah Allen and a strange man. He introduced him to me as ElburtusGansey, my 4th cousin; and I made a handsome curchy. I s'pose, bein' up onthe table, the curchy showed off to better advantage than it would if Ihad been on the floor: it looked well. But I felt that I ort to shakehands 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 comethat pail of whitewash right onto his back. (If it had been his head, itwould have broke it. )

[Illustration: EXCELLENT LIME. ]

I felt as if I should sink. But he took it the best that ever wus. Hesaid, when Josiah and me wus a sweepin' him off, and a rubbin' him offwith wet towels, that "it wusn't no matter at all. " And he spoke up sopolite and courteous, that "it seemed to be first-rate whitewash: he neversee better, whiter lime in his life, than that seemed to be. " And then hesort o' felt of it between his thumb and finger, and asked Josiah "wheredid he get that lime, and if they had any more of it. He didn't believethey could get such lime outside of Jonesville. " He acted like a perfectgentleman. 

And he told me, in that same polite, pleasant tone, how Josiah's old sheephad knocked him over 3 times while he wus a comin' into the house. Hesaid, with that calm, gentle smile, "that no sooner would he get up, thanhe would stand off a little, and then rush at him with his head down, andpush him right over. "

Says I, "It is a perfect shame and a disgrace, " says I. "And I have toldyou, Josiah Allen, that some stranger would get killed by that oldcreeter; 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 andhealthy a sheep. " He said he never met a sheep under any circumstancesthat seemed to have a sounder, stronger constitution. He said of coursethe sheep and he hadn't met under the pleasantest of circumstances, and itwusn't over and above pleasant to be knocked down by it three or fourtimes; but he had found that he couldn't have every thing as he wanted itin this world, and the only way to enjoy ourselves wus to take things asthey come. 

Says I, "I s'pose that wus the way you took the sheep;" and he said, "Itwas. "

And then he went on to say in that amiable way of hisen, "that it probablymade it a little harder for him jest at that time, as he wus struck bylightnin' 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 ourJonesville lightnin'. He said it wus about the cleanest, quickestlightnin' 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 inthe house half an hour when he offered to help me whitewash. I told him Iwouldn't let him, for it would spile his clothes, and he hadn't ever beenthere a visitin' before, and I didn't want to put him to work. But he hungon, and nothin' to do but what he had got to take hold and whitewash. AndI had to give up and let him; for I thought it wus better manners to put avisiter to work, than it wus to dispute and quarrel with 'em: and, ofcourse, he wasn't used to it, and he filled one eye most full of lime. Itwus dretful painful, dretful. 

But I swabbed it out with viniger, and it got easier about the middle ofthe 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 alongwith it, though it belated me. But his offerin' to do it showed his goodwill, anyway. 

I shouldn't have done any more at all after Elburtus had come, only I hadgot into the job, and had to finish it; for I always think it is bettermanners, when visitors come unexpected, and ketch you in some mean job, togo on and finish it as quick as you can, ruther than to set down in thedirt, and let them, ditto, and the same. 

And Josiah was ketched jest as I wus, for he had a piece of winter wheatthat wus spilin' to be cut; and he had got the most of it down, and had tofinish it: it wus lodged so he had to cut it by hand, --the machinewouldn't work on it. And jest as quick as Elburtus had got so he could seeout of that eye, nothin' to do but what he had got to go out and helpJosiah cut that wheat. He hadn't touched a scythe for years and years, andit wasn't ten minutes before his hands wus blistered on the inside. But hewould 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 workrun along by old Bobbet'ses, and he had carried a jug of sweetened waterand viniger and ginger out into the lot, and Elburtus had talked so politeand 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. Itmade him deathly sick, for it went aginst his stomach from the first: henever loved it. And Miss Bobbet duz fix it dretful sickish, --sweetens itwith sale mollasses for one thing. 

Oh, how sick that feller wus when he come in to supper! had to lay rightdown on the lounge. 

Says I, "Elburtus, what made you drink it, when it went aginst yourstomach?" says I. 

"Why, " says he in a faint voice, and pale round his lips as any thing, "Ididn't want to hurt his feelin's by refusin'. "

Says I, out to one side, "Did you ever, Josiah Allen, see such goodness inyour life?"

"I never see such dumb foolishness, " says he. "I'd love to have anybodyketch 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 thesun wus a goin' to happen to that man while he wus here. You see, thehouse wus all tore up a repairing and I had to put him up-stairs: and thebed 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 hotpipe run right up by the side of it, right by the bed-clothes. It tookfire from the piller-case. 

We smelt a dretful smudge, and Josiah run right up-stairs: it had onlyjest ketched a fire, and Elburtus was sound asleep; and Josiah, the minutehe see what wus the matter, he jest ketched up the water-pitcher, andthrowed the water over him; and bein' skairt and tremblin', the pitcherflew out of his hand, and went too, and hit Elburtus on the end of hisnose, and took a piece of skin right off. 

He waked up sudden; and there he wus, all drownded out, and a piece goneoff of his nose. 

Now, most any other man would have acted mad. Josiah would have acted madas 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 takehis oath that he swore out as cross a oath as he ever heard swore thefirst 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, youort to see how he behaved. Never, never did I hear of such manners in allmy 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', thefirst thing he said wuz, "What a splendid draft our stove must have, orelse the stove-pipe wouldn't be so hot!" (I had done some cookin' late inthe evenin', and left a fire in the stove. )

And he said our stove-wood must be of the very best quality; and he askedJosiah where he got it, and if he had to pay any thing extra for thatkind. He said he'd give any thing if he could get holt of a cord of suchwood as that!

Josiah said he felt fairly stunted to see such manners; and he went toapologisin' about how awful bad it was for him to get his whiskers singedso, and how it wus a pure axident his lettin' the pitcher slip out of hishand, 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 acalculatin' to get his whiskers cut that very day, and it was all for thebest; he persumed they wus singed off in jest the shape he wanted 'em: andas for his nose, he wus always ashamed of it; it wus always too long, andhe should be glad if there wus a piece gone off of it: Josiah had done hima 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 "Ibelieved sunthin' would happen to that man before long. I believed he wustoo good for earth. "

Josiah can't bear to hear me praise up any mortal man only himself, and hemuttered 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;" andsays 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 thefamily; 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, hedidn't act withered any. And I spoke out agin, and says I, in a low, deepvoice, --

"If it wus one of the relations on your side, Josiah Allen, you would sayhe 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 worshippedhim. And Josiah said that there wuzn't no use a talkin', Elburtus wouldget the nomination unanimous; for everybody that had seen him appear (andhe 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 urbaneand helpful. Why, there hain't no tellin' how much helpfuler he wuz thancommon folks, and urbaner. 

Why, Josiah and me drove into Jonesville one day towards night; andElburtus had been there all day. Josiah had some cross-gut saws that hewanted to get filed, and had happened to mention it before Elburtus; andnothin' to do but he must go and carry 'em to the man in Jonesville thatwus 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; andhe 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 tobring 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 tacklesit 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, andsee 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' thehorses 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, theypranced, and tore, and lifted him up, and switched him round, and thenthey'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 thebeat of his goodness. Why, we found out afterwards, that, besides filin'them saws, he had loaded seven barrells of salt that day, besides otherheavy truck. That night he wus perfectly beat out--but good. 

Josiah said that Philander Dagget'ses wive's brother wouldn't have nochance at all. He wanted the nomination awful, and Philander had been aworkin' for him all he could; and if Elburtus hadn't come down toJonesville, and showed off such a beautiful demeanor and actions, why, weall thought that Philander's wive's brother would have got it. And Icouldn't help feelin' kind o' sorry for him, though highly tickled forElburtus. We both of us, Josiah and me, felt very pleased and extremelytickled to think that Elburtus wus so sure of it; for there wus a gooddeal of money in the office, besides honor, sights of honor. 

Wall, when the mornin' of town-meetin' came, that critter wus so awfulclever 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 homea plow that belonged to old Dagget. And old Dagget wanted Josiah, when hehad got through with it, to carry it to his son Philander's: and Philanderhad left word that he wanted it that mornin'; and he wanted it carrieddown 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 tostore his fodder. 

Wall, time run along, and it got time to start for town-meetin', andElburtus couldn't be found. I hollered to him from the back stoop, andJosiah went out to the barn and hollered; but nothin' could be seen ofhim. And Josiah got all ready, and waited, and waited; and I told him thatElburtus had probable got in such a hurry to get there, that he hadstarted 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' toovertake him every minute, and didn't. And the hull day passed off, and noElburtus. And nobody had seen him. And everybody thought it looked socurius in him, a disapearin' as he did, when they all knew that he hadcome 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 knowwhat 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 wusdragged off to jail that mornin'. 

Of course Josiah tried to dispute it; but, as he wus as much in the darkas any of 'em as to where he wuz, his disputin' of it didn't amount to anything. And then, Josiah's feelin' so strange about Elburtus made his eyeslook kinder glassy and strange when they wus talkin' to him about it; andthey got up the story, so I hearn, that Josiah helped him off with thesheep, and wus feelin' like death to have him found out. 

And the friends of Philander Daggets'es wive's brother had it all thierown way, and he wus elected almost unanimous. Wall, Josiah come homeearly, he wus so worried about Elburtus. He thought mebby he had come backhome after he had got away, and wus took sick sudden. And his first wordsto 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 tothinkin' about it, the more wonderful did it seem to us, that that man haddissapeared right in broad daylight, jest as sudden and mysterious as ifthe ground had opened, and swallowed him down, or as if he had spread apair of wings, and flown up into the sky. 

Not that I really thought he had. I couldn't hardly associate the idee ofheaven and endless repose with a short frock-coat and boots, and a bluenecktie and a stiff shirt-collar. But, oh! how strange and mysterious itdid seem to be! We talked it over and over, and we could not think of anything 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 oldto 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 toheaven when they get too good for earth, and you know I have told youseveral times that he wus too clever for earth. I have thought he wus notof 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 talkin that way in such a time as this, " says I. "I have felt, when I see hisactions when he wus knocked over by that sheep, and covered with lime, andsot 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 orflat-iron. 

"Wall, " says I, "mebby you will see the time, before the sun rises on yourbald head again, that you will be sorry for such talk. " Says I, "If it wusone of the relation on your side, mebby you would talk different abouthim. " That touched him; and he snapped out, --

"What do you s'pose I care which side he wus on? And I should think it wustime to have a little sunthin' to eat: it must be three o'clock if it is aminute. "

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 theredon'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. "Wheredid 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 totranslate him besides chariots of fire. Who knows but what he has felldown in a fit! And do you go this minute, Josiah Allen, and foller histracks!"

"I sha'n't foller nobody's tracks, Samantha Allen, till I have sunthin' toeat. "

I knew there wuzn't no use of reasonin' no further with him then; for whenhe said Samantha Allen in that axent, I knew he wus as sot as a hemlockpost, and as hard to move as one. And so my common sense bein' so firm andsolid, even in such a time as this, I reasoned it right out, he wouldn'tstir till he had sunthin' to eat, and so the sooner I got his supper, thesooner he would go and foller Elburtus'es tracks. So I didn't spend nomore 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, butquick. 

[Illustration: HUNTING FOR ELBURTUS. ]

But, oh! all the time I wus a gettin' it, this solemn and awful questionwus a hantin' me, --What had become of Elburtus Smith Gansey? What hadbecome of the relation on my side? Oh, the feelin's I felt! Oh, theemotions I carried round with me, from buttery to teakettle, and fromteapot 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, towardsDaggets'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 sortof a scorfin' way, that I wouldn't say a word to him; and he come into thehouse a laughin', and sot down and crossed his legs a laughin', and sayshe, --

"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!" Andagin 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'. Youknow 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 whattickles me. He got locked up in Dagget's barn. He asscended, jest as Itold you. He went up the ladder over the hay, to throw down fodder, andgot locked up _axidental_. " And, as he said "axidental, " he snickeredworse 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 wusElburtus Gansey, I'd sue him, and serve a summons on him, and prosicutehim. "

"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 thingin his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night, and foundElburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for he wus so afraidthat some evil-minded person might say he done it a purpose. And he saidwhat made him feel the worst about it wuz to think that he should haveshut 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 asbein' _too_ good. "

I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought upand excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, andwouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose thatwus 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 tokeep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he hadlaughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and hadmade a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of hiswive'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 barnwhere 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 thenthe idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there tillafter 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' aaxident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. Butevery 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 haveoffered 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 hadconstant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus towork on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone out, andgone home; and he locked the door, and went away. 

He says (the mean, sneakin', hippocritical creeter!) that he feels likedeath about it, to think it happened so, and on that day too. And he sayswhat makes him feel the meanest is, to think it was his wive's brotherthat wus up on the other side, and got the nomination. He says it leavesroom for talk. 

And there it is. You can't sue a man for lockin' his own barn-door. AndElburtus wouldn't want it brought into court, anyway; for folks would be awonderin' so what under the sun he wus a prowlin' round for up overhead inPhilander Daggets'es barn. 

So he wus obliged to let the subject drop, and Philander has it all hisown way. And they say his wive's brother give him ten silver dollars forhis help. And that is pretty good pay for turnin' one lock, about 2seconts' work. 

Wall, anyway, that wus the last thing that happened to Elburtus inJonesville; 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, jestbefore Josiah went there, and let him out (and acted perfectly suprisedand 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 hadhis trials in one batch, as you may say, and is now havin' a spell ofenjoyments. 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 inmy life; and so I tell Josiah. 

CHAPTER III. 

The next evenin' follerin' after the exodus of Elburtus Gansey, Josiah andI, thinkin' that we needed a relaxation to relax our two minds, rode intoJonesville. We went in the Democrat, at my request; for I wus in hopesCicely would come home with us. 

And she did. We had a good ride. I sot in front with Josiah at hisrequest; and what made it pleasanter wuz, the boy stood up in the Democratbehind 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 thebreakfast-table to see how her fresh young beauty wus bein' blowed away bythe 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 gotmy work all done up below, --she offerin' to help me, and a not lettin' herlift her finger, --I went up into her room, where there wus a bright fireon the hearth, and every thing looked cozy and snug. 

The boy, havin' wore himself out a harrowin' his uncle Josiah and Ury withquestions, had laid down on the crimson rug in front of the fire, and wusfast asleep, gettin' strength for new labors. 

And Cicely sot in a little low rockin'-chair by the side of him. She hadon a white flannel mornin'-dress, and a thin white zephyr worsted shawlround her; and her silky brown hair hung down her back, for she had been abrushin' it out; and she looked sweet and pretty enough to kiss; and Ikissed 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, andtalk some about other wimmen. (No runnin' 'em: I'd scorn it, and so wouldshe. )

But I thought I'd love to talk it over with her, about what goodhousekeepers Tirzah Ann and Maggie wuz. And I wanted to hear what shethought about the babe, and if she could say in cander that she ever see alittle girl equal her in graces of mind and body. 

And I wanted to hear all about her aunt Mary and her aunt Melissa (on herfather's side). I knew she had had letters from 'em. And I wanted to hearhow she that was Jane Smith wuz, that lived neighbor to her aunt Mary'soldest daughter, and how that oldest daughter wuz, who wus s'posed to be arunnin' down. And I wanted to hear about Susan Ann Grimshaw, who hadmarried her aunt Melissy's youngest son. There wus lots of news that Ifelt 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 takecomfort, 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--whatcould 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 seeher; and says she, --

"What will become of him in the future, aunt Samantha, with the laws asthey 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 nottrust him in a world that has such temptations, such snares set ready forhim. Why, " says she--And she fairly trembled as she said it. She wouldalways throw her whole soul into any thing she undertook; and in this shehad 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, fullof 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 havesuch ways, and be popular, --a bright, handsome young man, and with plentyof money. Just think of it! how, with those open saloons on every side ofhim, when he can't walk down the street without those gilded bars shiningon every hand; and the friends he will make, gay, rich, thoughtless youngmen 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 ledby those he loves, what will hinder him from going to ruin as his poorfather 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 andexcitable; but I didn't, thinkin' what she had went through with the boy'sfather. 

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 betterto 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 hertalkin' to her uncle Josiah one day. 

You see, she worried about the boy to that extent, and loved him so, thatshe would have been willin' to have had her head took right off, if thatwould have helped him, if it would have insured him a safe and happyfuture; but it wouldn't: and so she was willin' to do any other hard jobif 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 powerfulaginst 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 placebetween Jonesville and Loontown. He and uncle Nate Burpy went up to hear aspeech aginst wimmen's suffrage, in a Democrat. 

Josiah said it wus a powerful speech. He said uncle Nate said, "The fellerthat 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 wuztired, and ort to set down and rest. 

I spoke light, because Josiah Allen acted so high-headed about it. But Ido 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 sether eyes by him. She had took care of the old folks, supported 'em andlifted 'em round herself; took all the care of 'em in every way till theydied: 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, andsent 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 anevenin' from makin' vests and pantaloons, cheap, to furnish him money!--itwas so sort o' restful to her to set and hear him talk large aginstwimmen's suffrage and the weakness and ineficiency of wimmen!

He said, the young chap did, and proved it right out, so they said, "thatthe franchise was too tuckerin' a job for wimmen to tackle, and thatwimmen hadn't the earnestness and persistency and deep forethought to makeher valuable as a franchiser--or safe. "

You see, he had his hull strength, the young chap did; for his sister hadclothed him, as well as boarded him, and educated him: so he could talkpowerful. He could use up quantities of wind, and not miss it, havin' allhis strength. 

His speech made a deep impression on men and wimmen. His sister bein' sowore out, workin' so hard, wept for joy, it was so beautiful, and affectedher so powerful. And she said "she never realized till that minute howweak 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 toCicely that mornin'. 

But she said, after hearin' 'em all, "that she wus willin' to vote on thetemperance question. She had thought it all over, " she said. "Thought howthe nation lay under the curse of African slavery until that race ofslaves were freed. And she believed, that when women who were now in legalbondage, were free to act as their heart and reason dictated, that they, who suffered most from intemperance, would be the ones to strike the blowthat would free the land from the curse. "

Curius that she should feel so, but you couldn't get the idee out of herhead. 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 howher money wus bein' used now to keep grog-shops open, four of herbuildin'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. Andits bein' the biggest property there, of course it helped more than anything 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 infront of the saloons and billiard-rooms, so as to make a real bright lightto draw 'em in and ruin 'em. 

There wus a few--the doctor, who knew how rum ruined men's bodies; and theminister, 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 makemoney, and thinkin' it would be for her interest in the end, hired voteswith her money. Her money used to hire liquor-votes! So she heard, andbelieved. 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 herhouses, voted for license to a man. Her property used agin to spread theevil! She labored with these men with tears in her eyes. And they likedher. She was dretful good to 'em. (As I say, she held the things of thisworld 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 licenseto a man. You see, they wus all willin' to give her love and courtesy andkindness, but not the right to do as her heaven-learnt sense of right andwrong wanted her to. She had a fine mind, a pure heart: she had beenthrough the highest schools of the land, and that higher, heavenly schoolof sufferin', where God is the teacher, and had graduated from 'em withher lofty purposes refined and made luminous with some thin' like thelight 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 compelledher to obey thier lower wills. 

Wall, Cicely didn't think it wus right. Curius she should think so, somefolks thought, but she did. 

But all this that wore on her wus as nothin' to what she felt about theboy, --her fears for his future. "What could she do--what _could_ shedo 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 toinfluence him right now. God can take care of the boy. "

"But I can't keep him with me always; and other influences will come, andbeat 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 toruin, through the open door of a grog-shop! If the women of the land hadit 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 sotthere, 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 thepoet says, 'Nater will caper. '"

But Cicely went right on, with her eyes a shinin', and a red spot in herwhite cheeks that I didn't like to see. 

"A thousand temptations that surround my boy now, could be removed, athousand low influences changed into better, helpful ones. There aredrunkards who long, who pray, to have temptations removed out of theirway, --those who are trying to reform, and who dare not pass the door of asaloon, the very smell of the liquor crazing them with the desire fordrink. They want help, they pray to be saved; and we who are praying tohelp them are powerless. What if, in the future, my boy should be like oneof them, --weak, tempted, longing for help, and getting nothing but helptowards 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' hisright leg over his left, and turnin' the almanac to another month. "Itseems to me sunthin' unwomanly, sunthin' aginst nater. It is turnin' thelaws of nater right round. It is perilous to the domestic nature ofwimmen. "

"I don't think so, " says I. "Don't you remember, Josiah Allen, how youworried 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 tospread abroad. I wanted otherfolks to know about 'em, so's to have somelike 'em. But you worried awfully. You wus so afraid that carryin' thehens into the turmoil of public life would have a tendency to keep 'emfrom 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 thecrowd a shoutin' round 'em, and laid two eggs. You can't break up nature'slaws; _they_ are laid too deep and strong for any hammer we can getholt 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 lovedones, and planted right in by the side of these two loves of hern is adeathless 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 tryto lead her chickens off into safety. And while the rooster is a steppin'high, and struttin' round, and lookin' surprised and injured, it is theold 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 aretryin' to defend thier children from. And men may talk about wimmen'sgettin' too excited and zealous; but they don't cluck and cackle half soloud 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-hawksCicely is tryin' to save her boy from. And I say it is domestic love inher 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 fairlyreckless about carin' whether Josiah or anybody understood me or not. Iknew the Lord understood me, and I knew what I felt in my own mind, and Ididn't much care for any thing else. Wimmen do have such spells. They getfairly wore out a tryin' to express what they feel in thier souls to again-sayin' world, and have that world yell out at 'em, "Unwomanly!unwomanly!" I say, Cicely wuzn't unwomanly. I say, that, from the verydepths of her lovin' little soul, she wus pure womanly, affectionate, earnest, tender-hearted, good; and, if anybody tells me she wuzn't, I'llknow 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 lethim influence the world. Let him make the world better and purer by yourinfluencein' it through him. "

"Why not use that influence _now, myself_? I have it here right in myheart, all that I could hope to teach to my boy, at the best. And whywait, and set my hopes of influencing the world through him, when athousand things may happen to weaken that influence, and death and changemay destroy it? Why, my one great fear and dread is, that my boy will beled away by other, stronger influences than mine, --the temptations thathave overthrown so many other children of prayer--how dare I hope that myboy will withstand them? And death may claim him before he could bear myinfluence to the world. Why not use it now, myself, to help him, and othermothers' boys? If it is, as you say, an experiment, why not let motherstry it? It could not do any harm; and it would ease our poor, anxioushearts some, to make the effort, even if it proved useless. No one canhave a deeper interest in the children's welfare than their mothers. Wouldthey 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 whynot let unselfishness have it for a change? For, Josiah Allen, " says Ifirmly, "you know, and I know, that, if there is any unselfishness in thisselfish world, it is in the heart of a mother. "

"It would be apt to be dangerous, " says Josiah, crossin' his left leg overhis right one, and turnin' to a new month in the almanac. "It would mostlikely be apt to be. "

"_Why_?" says Cicely. "Why is it dangerous? Why is it wrong for awomen to try to help them she would die for? Yes, " says she solemnly, "Iwould die for Paul any time if I knew it would smooth his pathway, make iteasier for him to be a good man. "

"Wall, you see, Cicely, " says Josiah in a soft tone, --his love for hersoftenin' and smoothin' out his axent till it sounded almost foolish andmeachin', --"you see, it would be dangerous for wimmen to vote, becausevotin' would be apt to lower wimmen in the opinion of us men and thepublic generally. In fact, it would be apt to lower wimmen down to minglein a lower class. And it would gaul me dretfully, " says Josiah, turnin' tome, "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 onetime from man or woman; and I says, --

"I'd love to have you speak up, Josiah Allen, and tell me how wimmen wouldgo to work to get any lower in the opinion of men; how they could get intoany lower grade of society than they are minglin' with now. They areranked now by the laws of the United States, and the will of men, withidiots, lunatics, and criminals. And how pretty it looks for you men totry to scare us, and make us think there is a lower class we could getinto! _There hain't any lower class that we can get into_ than theones we are in now; and you know it, Josiah Allen. And you sha'n't scareCicely 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 foundout 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 ashinin' like stars, --

"Have I not a right to help him? Is he not _my_ child? Did not Godgive me a _right_ to him, when I went down into the darkness with Godalone, and a soul was given into my hands? Did I not suffer for him? HaveI not been blessed in him? Why, his little hands held me back from thegates of death. By all the rights of heavenliest joy and deepest agony--ishe 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 myheart now: he is _mine_. I can shield him from danger: if he shouldfall into the flames, I could reach in after him, and die with him, orsave 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 dangersa 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 myeyes open, but my hands bound, and see him rushing headlong into flamestenfold hotter than fire; see him on the brink of earthly and eternalruin, 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 howcan I die, and leave the boy?"

And her eyes looked so big and bright, and that spot of red would look sobright on her white cheeks, that I would get skairt. And I'd try to soothher 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 tosave him now. "

It did beat all, as I told Josiah, out to one side, to see such heftyprinciples and emotions in such a little body. Why, she didn't weigh muchover 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 GeorgeWashington! Now get me a pail of water. "

And he went out. But it did beat all, how that little thing, when shestood ready, seemin'ly, to tackle the nation--I've seen her jump up in achair, afraid of a mice. The idee of anybody bein' afraid of a mice, andready to tackle the Constitution!

And she'd blush up red as a rosy if a stranger would speak to her. But shewould fight the hull nation for her boy. 

And I'd try to sooth her (for that red spot on her cheeks skairt me, and Iforeboded about her). I said to her after Josiah went out, a holdin' herlittle hot hands in mine, --for sometimes her hands would be hot andfeverish, 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 goodthing, --a blessin' to the youth of the land, a comfort to the females, andno 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 lookin '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 thanhalf-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 saywhere they shall see Him, or when. And it don't say that the light thatfell from on high upon the blessed mother of our Lord, shall never fallagain 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 muchsometimes, as she wus settin' in the twilight with the boy in her arms, ifI had seen a halo round her head; and so I told Josiah one night, aftershe had been a settin' there a holdin' the boy, and a singin' low tohim, --

 "'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 thinkof herself: she never did. 

And after she went to bed, I mentioned the halo. And Josiah asked whatthat was. And I told him it was "the inner glory that shines out from apure soul, and crowns a holy life. "

And he said "he s'posed it was some sort of a headdress. Wimmen was sofull 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 Ithought "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 tomill, --he brought Cicely a letter from her aunt Mary. She wanted her tocome on at once; for her daughter, who wus a runnin' down, wus supposed tobe a runnin' faster than she had run. And her aunt Mary was goin' to startfor the Michigan very soon, --as soon as she got well enough: she wasn'tfeelin' 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 gotthrough visitin' her aunt and her other relations there, she would comeback here. 

So she went; and I missed her dretfully, and should have missed her moreif it hadn't been for the state my companion returned in after he hadcarried Cicely to the train. 

He come home rampant with a new idee. All wrought up about goin' intopolitics. He broached the subject to me before he onharnessed, hitchin'the old mair for the purpose. He wanted to be United-States senator. Hesaid 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 canlean. I am a popular man, " says he. "And if I can help the nation, I willbe glad to do it; and if the nation can help me, I am willin'. The changefrom Jonesville to Washington will be agreeable and relaxin', and I layout to try it. "

Says I, in sarkastick tones, "It is a pity you hain't got your free passto 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 anysubject agin, mebby you would remember that pass, and be more modest andunassuming. "

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. IfI hadn't been, I shouldn't have mentioned the free pass to him. For it isa subject so gaulin' to him, that I never allude to it only in cases ofextreme danger and peril, or uncommon high-headedness. 

Now I have mentioned it, I don't know but it will be expected of me totell about this pass of hisen. But, if I do, it mustn't go no further; forJosiah 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 itmade sights and sights of talk. 

But of course there wus considerable lyin' about it, as you know the wayis. Why, it does beat all how stories will grow. 

Why, when I hear a story nowadays, I always allow a full half forshrinkage, and sometimes three-quarters; and a good many times that hain'tenough. Such awful lyin' times! It duz beat all. 

But about this strange thing that took place and happened, I will proceedand relate the plain and unvarnished history of it. And what I set down inthis epistol, you can depend upon. It is the plain truth, entirelyunvarnished: not a mite of varnish will there be on it. 

A little over two years ago Josiah Allen, my companion, had a opportunityto buy a wood-lot cheap. It wus about a mild and a half from here, and oneside of the lot run along by the side of the railroad. A Irishman hadowned it previous and prior to this time, and had built a little shanty onit, 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 thelaw directs. 

[Illustration: JOSIAH'S WOOD-LOT. ]

Wall, he beset my companion Josiah to buy it; and as he had plenty ofmoney in the Jonesville bank to pay for it, and the wood on our wood-lotwus gettin' pretty well thinned out, I didn't make no objection to theenterprize, but, on the other hand, I encouraged him in it. And so he madethe bargain with him, the deed wus made out, the Irishman paid. And Josiahput a lot of wood-choppers in there to work; and they cut, and drawed thewood to Jonesville, and made money. Made more than enough the first sixmonths 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 placebein' so near Jonesville, he laid out, after he had got the wood off, andsold it, and kep' what he wanted, he calculated and laid out to sell theplace for twice what he give for it. Josiah Allen hain't nobody's fool ina bargain, a good deal of the time he hain't. He knows how to make goodcalculations a good deal of the time. He thought somebody would want theplace to build on. 

Wall, I asked him one day what he laid out to do with the shanty and thepig-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: hesaid 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 thateffect. I can't remember the exact words I used, not expectin' that Iwould ever have to remember back, and lay 'em to heart. Which I should nothad it not been for the strange and singular things that occurred and tookplace afterwards. 

Then I asked my companion, if I remember rightly, "When he laid out todraw 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. Theold 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 the8th of April, which wus Thomas J. 's birthday, and have as nice a dinner aswe could get, and buy a handsome present for him. And Josiah was veryagreeable to the idee (for when did a man ever look scornfully on the ideeof a good dinner?). 

And so the next day I went to work, and cooked up every thing I couldthink of that would be good. I made cakes of all kinds, and tarts, andjellys. And I wus goin' to have spring lamb and a chicken-pie (a layer ofchicken, and a layer of oysters. I can make a chicken-pie that will meltin your mouth, though I am fur from bein' the one that ort to say it); andI wus goin' to have a baked fowl, and vegetables of all kinds, and everything else I could think of that wus good. And I baked a large plum-cake apurpose for Whitfield, with "Our Son" on it in big red sugar letters, andthe 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, thechildren 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 thecoldness and selfishness of the world, they appreciate more and more thefaithful affection of her whose name wus once Smith. 

Yes, they like me better and better every year, they say they do. And theytreat me pretty, dretful pretty. I don't want to be treated prettier byanybody than the children treat me. 

And their affectionate devotion pays me, it pays me richly, for all thecare and anxiety they caused me. There hain't no paymaster like Love: hepays the best wages, and the most satisfyin', of anybody I ever see. But Iam a eppisodin', and to resoom and continue on. 

Wall! the dinner passed off perfectly delightful and agreeable. Thechildren and Josiah eat as if--Wall, suffice it to say, the way they eatwus a great compliment to the cook, and I took it so. 

Thomas J. Wus highly delighted with his presents. I got him a nice whitewillow rockin'-chair, with red ribbons run all round the back, and bows ofthe same on top, and a red cushion, --a soft feather cushion that I mademyself for it, covered with crimson rep (wool goods, very nice). Why, thecushion 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; andthen he wanted to get him a bright blue necktie. But I perswaided him togive him a handsome china coffee cup and saucer, with "To My Son" paintedon it; and I urged him to give him that, with ten new silver dollars init. Says I, "He is all the son you have got, and a good son. " And Josiahconsented after a parlay. Why, the chair I give him cost about as much asthat; and it wuzn't none too good, not at all. 

Wall, he had a lovely day. And what made it pleasanter, we had a prospectof havin' another jest as good. For in about 2 months' time it would beTirzah'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 totreat 'em both alike (which is both Christian and common sense). And wetold 'em they must all be ready to come home that day, Providence and theweather 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 andrefreshin'. 

And, oh! how beautiful every thing looked as we rode along! The sun wusgoin' down in glory; and Jonesville layin' to the west of us, we seemed tobe a ridin' along right into that glory--right towards them goldenpalaces, and towers of splendor, that riz up from the sea of gold. Andbehind them shinin' towers wus shadowy mountain ranges of softest color, that melted up into the tender blue of the April sky. And right in theeast a full moon wuz sailin', lookin' down tenderly on Josiah and me andthe babe--and Jonesville and the world. And the comet sot there up in thesky like a silent and shinin' mystery. 

The babe's eyes looked big and dreamy and thoughtful. She has got thebeautifulest eyes, little Samantha Joe has. You can look down deep into'em, and see yourself in 'em; but, beyond yourself, what is it you cansee? I can't tell, nor nobody. The ellusive, wonderful beauty that lays inthe innocent baby eyes of little Samantha Joe. The sweet, fur-off look, asif she wus a lookin' right through this world into a fairer and morepeaceful 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. Prettysoon she looked up at the comet; and says she, "Nama, "--she can't saygrandma, --"Nama, is that God's comma?"

Now, jest see how deep that wuz, and beautiful, very. The heavens wuz fullof the writin' of God, writin' we can't read yet, and translate into ourcoarser language; and she, with her deep, beautiful eyes, a readin' itjest 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. SaysI, "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 saysagin, --

"Nama, what is the comma up there for?"

Now hear that, how deep that wuz. Who could answer that question? Icouldn't, nor Josiah couldn't. Nor the wisest philosopher that ever walkedthe earth, not one of 'em. From them that kept their night-watches on thenewly built pyramids, to the astronimers of to-day who are spending theirlives in the study of the heavens. If every one of them learned men of theworld, livin' and dead, if they all stood in rows in our door-yard infront of little Samantha Joe, they would have to bow their haughty headsbefore her, and put their finger on their lips. Them lips could say verylarge words in every language under the sun; but they couldn't answer mybaby'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', andhappy; and we went on placidly to Jonesville, got our usual groceries, andstopped to the post-office. Josiah went into the office, and come out withhis "World, " and one letter, a big letter with a blue envelope. I thoughtit had a sort of a queer look, but I didn't say nothin'. And it bein' sorto' 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' tomake out who it was to. I should think, by his tell, it wus the dumbdestwritin' that ever wus seen. I should think, by his tell, it went ahead ofyourn. "

"Wall, " says I, "there is no need of your swearin'. " Says I, "If I wus agrandfather, Josiah Allen, I would choose my words with a little moredecency, 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 ofthe bad writin' of the letter he had got, off onto his companion, as theway of male pardners is, he felt easy and comfortable in his mind, andtalked agreeable all the way home, and affectionate, some. 

Wall, we got home; and I lit a light, and fixed the fire so it burntbright and clear. And I drawed up a stand in front of the fire, with abright 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 frontof the hearth to warm. And then I took my knittin'-work, and went toknittin'; and by that time Josiah had got his barn-chores all done, andcome in. 

[Illustration: JOSIAH READING THE LETTER. ]

And the very first thing he did after he come in, and drawed off hisboots, and wondered "why under the gracious heavens it was, that thebootjack never could be found where he had left it" (which was right inthe middle of the settin'-room floor). But he found it hangin' up in itsusual place in the closet, only a coat had got hung up over it so hecouldn't see it for half a minute. 

And after he had his warm slippers on, and got sot down in his easy-chairopposite to his beloved companion, he grew calmer again, and moreplacider, and drawed out that letter from his pocket. 

And I sot there a knittin', and a watchin' my companion's face at the sametime; 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 passfor me to ride on the railroad. "

Says I, "Why, that can't be, Josiah Allen. Why should they give you a freepass?"

"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 Ican 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 dretfulexcited, he always calls me Samantha Allen), "and see what it is, if ithain'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 Ithought I could partly make out the word "remove, " and along down thesheet 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 myselffrom 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 throughit, 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 themornin' up from my wood-lot. But it won't take me more'n a couple ofhours, or so, and in the afternoon I'll take a start. "

Says I, "What under the sun, Josiah Allen, should the Railroad Companygive 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'tobleeged to, " says he. 

And I says, "No. As the poet saith, nobody hain't obleeged to use commonsense unless they have got it;" and I says, in a meanin' tone, "No, Ican't obleege you to tell me. "

Wall, sure enough, the next day, jest as quick as he got that lumberdrawed up to the house, Josiah Allen dressed up, and sot off forJonesville, and come home at night as tickled a man as I ever see, if nottickleder. 

And he says, "Now what do you think, Samantha Allen? Now what do you thinkabout 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 Imight 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 toldhim I had a free pass, and I showed it to him. And he took it, and lookedat it close, and took out his specks, and looked and looked at it for anumber of minutes; and then he handed it back to me, and I put it into mypocket; 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, andI 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 theygive it to him. 

And he said "he thought it was because he was so smart. " Says he, "I am adumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as plainas I wanted to. " And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder everyminute, --

"I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car onthe track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable anddressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose therailroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took theright 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 tohender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of such ainfluential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you to go amopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the future onmy 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 himnohow, --

"It will be a dretful savin' of money, but that hain't what I think of themost. It is the honor they are a heapin' onto me. To think that they thinkso much of me, set such a store by me, and look up to me so, that theysend me a free pass without my makin' a move to ask for it. Why, it showsplain, 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 wusthat dumbfoundered and wonderin' about it, that I couldn't for my lifetell 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; andhe went to Michigan on it, and to the South, and everywhere he could thinkof. 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 rideround with 'em on it. 

And he told every one of 'em, he told everybody, that he thought as muchagin of the honor as he did of the money. It showed that he wus thought somuch 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 hegrew fat, he wus so puffed up by it, and proud. And some of the neighborsthat he boasted so before, wus eat up with envy, and seemed mad to thinkhe had come to such honor, and they hadn't. But the madder they acted, thetickleder he seemed, and more prouder, and high-headeder. 

But I could not feel so. I felt that there wus sunthin' strange and curiusabout it. And it wus very, very seldom that Josiah could get me to ride onit. Though I did take a few short journeys on it, to please him. But Ifelt sort o' uneasy while I was a ridin' on it, same as you feel when youare goin' up-hill with a heavy load and a little horse. You kinder standon your feet, and lean forward, as if your bein' oncomfortable, andstandin' up, helped the horse some. 

I had a good deal of that restless feelin', and oneasy. And as I toldJosiah time and time again, "that for stiddy ridin' I preferred a mare toa mystery. "

Wall, it run along for a year; and Josiah said he s'posed he'd have towrite on, and get the pass renewed. As near as he could make out, it runout 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 plainwritin' so we could read it. 

It seemed there wus a mistake. It wuzn't a free pass, it wus a order forJosiah Allen to remove a pig-pen from his place on the railroad-trackwithin three days. 

There it wuz, a order to remove a nuisence; and Josiah Allen had been aridin' on it for a year, with pride in his mean, and haughtiness in hisdemeanor. 

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 asit 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 areconstituted in such a way that mortification don't show on 'em for anylength of time. 

But it made sights and sights of talk in Jonesville. The Jonesvilliansmade sights and sights of fun of him, poked fun at him, and snickered. Imyself 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 goround with so haughty a mean onto you right away. "

"Throw my mean in my face if you want to, " says he. "But I guess, " sayshe, "it will learn 'em another time to take a little more pains with theirduck'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 adevotion, that though hidden sometimes, like volcanic fires, and othermarried men's affections for their wives, yet it bursts out occasionallyin spurts and jets of unexpected tenderness. 

Now, the very next mornin' after Cicely left for her aunt Mary's, he gaveme 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 theirsect, asked me, --

"If I would buy a encyclopedia?"

I was favorable to the idee, and showed it by my looks and words; butJosiah 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 gotbehind the agent, and winked at me, and made motions for me to foller himinto 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 thedoor, and stood with his back against it; and says to me, with his voicefairly 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 onone of 'em! It skairs me most to death to see a boy ride 'em; and at yourage, 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. Theyare 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 countryon a encyclopedia. "

His tender thoughtfulness touched my heart, and I explained to him allabout '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 ofbein' United-States senator. "He said he had been approached on thesubject. "

He said it in that sort of a haughty, high-headed way, such as men willsometimes assume when they think they have had some high honors heapedonto '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 uncleNate 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 bewrote 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. Youhave got the rheumatiz the worst kind. "

Says he, "I mean runnin' with political legs--and I do want to be asenator, 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 Ihain't a goin' to accept it. I tell you, when anybody gets into politicallife, ambition rousts up in 'em: path-master don't satisfy me. I want tobe senator: I want to, like a dog. And I don't lay out to tackle the jobas 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 sidewas too willin', and too clever. And witnessin' his campaign has learnt mesome deep lessons. I watched the rocks he hit aginst; and I have laid myplans, and laid 'em careful. I am going to act offish. I feel thatoffishness is my strong holt--and endearin' myself to the masses. Educatin' public sentiment up to lovin' me, and urgin' me not to be sooffish, 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 toelect 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 electme in spite of the old Harry. "

Oh! how that oath grated against my nerve! And how I hung back from thisidee! I am one that looks ahead. And I says in firm tones, --

"You never would get the nomination, Josiah Allen! And if you did, younever would be elected. "

"Oh, yes, I should!" says he. But he continued dreamily, "There would haveto 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 kitchenceilin', as if wires wus liable to be let down anywhere through theplasterin'. 

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, thatI 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 asany 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 Iwill never give my consent to have you plunge into such dangerousenterprizes. And talkin' about pullin' wires sounds dangerous: it soundslike a circus, somehow; and how would _you_, with your back, look andfeel 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: youwon'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 itout of his head, and weighed it on the steelyards. It was _not_ overand above large. I knew it; and he knew that I knew it, because I have hadto sometimes, in the cause of Right, remind him of it. But he knows thatmy love for him towers up like a dromedary, and moves off through life asstately as she duz--the dromedary. Josiah was my choice out of a worldfull of men. I love Josiah Allen. But to resoom and continue on. 

Josiah says, "Which side had I better go on, Samantha?" Says he, kinderputtin' 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 aHalf-breed; or, " says I, "it would depend on what breeds they wuz. If theywus half snails, and half Times in the primers, maybe you could get aheadof 'em. "

"I should think, Samantha Allen, in such a time as this, you would actlike a rational bein'. I'll be hanged if I know what side to go on to getelected!"

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 intimes of peace. But it is human nater, to want to be on the side thatbeats. "

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 tothink 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 forbusiness, and I always said so. They don't look out for the profits ofthings, as men do. "

I didn't say nothin' only my sithes, but they spoke volumes to any one whounderstood their language. But anon, or mebby before, --I hadn't kep' anyparticular account of time, but I think it wus about anon, --when anotherthought struck me so, right in my breast, that it most knocked me over. Ithanted me all the rest of that day: and all that night I lay awake andworried, and I'd sithe, and sposen the case; and then I'd turn over, andsposen the case, and sithe. 

Sposen he would be elected--I didn't really think he would, but I couldn'tfor my life help sposen. Sposen he would have to go to Washington. I knewstrange things took place in politics. Strange men run, and run fur: someon 'em run clear to Washington. Mebby he would. Oh! how I groaned at theidee!

I thought of the awfulness of that place as I had heard it described uponto me; and then I thought of the weakness of men, and their liability tobe led astray. I thought of the powerful blasts of temptation that blowedthrough them broad streets, and the small size of my pardner, and thelight weight of his bones and principles. 

And I felt, if things wuz as they had been depictered to me, he would (ina moral sense) be lifted right up, and blowed away--bones, principles, andall. And I trembled. 

At last the idee knocked so firm aginst the door of my heart, that I hadto let it in. That I _must_, I _must_ go to Washington, as aforerunner of Josiah. I must go ahead of him, and look round, and see ifmy Josiah could pass through with no smell of fire on his overcoat--ifthere wuz any possibility of it. If there wuz, why, I should stand still, and let things take their course. But if my worst apprehensions wuzrealized, if I see that it was a place where my pardner would lose all themodest worth and winnin' qualities that first endeared him to me--why, Iwould come home, and throw all my powerful influence and weight into thescales, and turn 'em round. 

[Illustration: JOSIAH BEING BLOWN AWAY. ]

Of course, I felt that I should have to make some pretext about goin': forthough I wus as innocent as a babe of wantin' to do so, I felt that hewould 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 ofGeorge Washington. That dear old martyr! I felt truly I would love to weepupon his tomb. 

And so I told Josiah the next mornin', for I thought I would tackle thesubject 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, JosiahAllen: the sun of gratitude never goes down; it shines on that tomb to-dayjest as bright as it did in 1800. "

"Wall, wall! go and weep on it if you want to. But I'll bet half a centthat 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 inthe 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 calculateto do with me while you are gone?"

"Why, " says I, "I'll have the girl Ury is engaged to, come here and do thechores, 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 liveseat rolls, as to eat her fried cakes. "

"Your pardner will fry up 2 pans full before she goes, Josiah; and I don'ts'pose I'll be gone over four days. "

"Oh, well! then I guess I can stand it. But you had better make somemince-pies ahead, and other kinds of pies, and some fruit-cake, andcookies, 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 ofprovisions, to help him endure my absence. 

I wus some in hopes that he might give up the idee of bein' United-Statessenator, and I might have rest from my tower; for I dreaded, oh, how Idreaded, the job! But as day by day passed, he grew more and more rampantwith the idee. He talked about it all the time daytimes; and in the nightI 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 hegot to Washington, D. C. --what great things he wus goin' to do. And I wouldget 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 haveto work hard jest as they all do. But as I told you before, if every thingelse fails, I have got a grand plan to fall back on--sunthin' new anduneek. 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 wusgoin' to do when he got to Washington. 

Says he, "There is one thing about it. When I get to be United-Statessenator, uncle Nate Gowdey shall be promoted to some high and responsibleplace. "

"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 onesthat help me. "

"You wouldn't have him examined, " says I, --"wouldn't have him asked noquestions?"

"Oh, yes! I'd have him pass a examination jest as the New-York aldermendo, 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 areadmitted. ' That is what I would do. "

I groaned. But he kep' on complacently, "I am goin' to help the ones thatelect 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 doubtof it. 

"Now, there is political economy. I shall go in strong for that. I shallsay right to Congress, the first speech I make to it, I shall say, thatthere is too much money spent now to hire votes with; and I shall prove itright out, that we can get votes cheaper if we senators all join intogether, and put our feet right down that we won't pay only jest so muchfor a vote. But as long as one man is willin' to pay high, why, everybodyelse has got to foller suit. And there hain't no economy in it, not amite. 

"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 canalquestion. 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 thesebig questions. The corruption of the canal means that the bottom of thecanal 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' toend. 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 forany other solid man. It is some visionary chap that begun it in the firstplace. 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 wimmincouldn't vote on it. He said that would be jest about what they would belikely to vote for. 

"He is a smart old feller, uncle Nate is, for a man of his age. He talkedawful smart about wimmin's votin'. He said any man was a fool to thinkthat a woman would ever have the requisit grasp of intellect, and theknowledge 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 tacklepoliticks. Politicks takes deep study. 

"Now, there is the tariff question, and the revenue. I shall most probablefavor '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 toperform that ages us, and wears us out before our time, --it is woman'sweak curiosity on public topics, that her mind is too feeble to grasp holtof. It is wearin', " says he haughtily. 

Says I, "Specially when they don't know what to answer. " Says I, "JosiahAllen, you don't know this minute what tariff means, or revenue. "

"Wall, I know what starvation means, and I know what vittles means, and Iknow I am as hungry as a bear. "

Instinctively I hung on the teakettle. And as Josiah see me pare thepotatoes, and grind the coffee, and pound the steak, he grew very pleasantagain in his demeanor; and says he, --

"There will be some abuses reformed when I get to Washington, D. C. ; andyou 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 jestwhat we need. Why, as uncle Nate said, hired men hain't civil at all, norhired girls either. You hire 'em to serve you, and to serve you civil; andthey 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 overnight to Cleveland, and the hotel-clerk sassed him, jest because he wantedto 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, andhe should blow it out. ' And the hotel-clerk sassed him, and swore, andthreatened to make him leave. 

"And ruther than have a fuss, uncle Nate said he turned it out. But itrankled, uncle Nate says it did, it rankled deep. And he says he wants tovote 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 weneeded the worst kind, and he hoped I would insist on it when I got to besenator. He said there was too much talk about 'em in the papers, and toolittle done about 'em. Why, Elam Gowdey, uncle Nate's youngest boy, brokedown the platform to his barn, and went right down through it, with a loadof hay. And nothin' but that hay saved his neck from bein' broke. Itspilte 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 thatI 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 ofthe 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 withheathens anyway? What the country _needs_ is Methodists. "

"Somewhere did I not once hear these words, " says I musin'ly, as I set thecoffee-cups on the table, --"'You shall have the heathen for aninheritance'--and 'preach the gospel to the heathen'--and 'we who weresometime heathens, but have received light'? Did not the echo of some suchwords 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 theChinaman works too cheap--are too industrious, and reasonable in theircharges, 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 aboutbein' path-master or President. And I say, that after givin' a man a fairtrial and a long one, if he won't try to buy or sell a vote, it is a suresign that he can't asimulate with Americans, and be one with 'em; that hecan't never be mingled in with 'em peacible. And I'll bet that I'll startthe 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 thecountry. We can do it too. That big statute in New-York Harbor of LibertyEnlightenin' the World, will jest lift her torch up high, and light 'emout 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. Is'posed it wus a gift from a land that helped us to liberty and prosperitywhen we needed 'em as bad as the Irishmen and Chinamen do to-day; and Is'posed that torch that wus lit for us by others' help, we should bewillin' 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' roundPlymouth 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 outof the country? Is it for the sake of humanity you drive 'em out? or beyou, like the Isrealites of old, a worshipin' the golden calf ofselfishness, Josiah Allen?"

"I hain't never worshiped _no calf_, Samantha Allen. That would bethe last thing _I_ would worship, and you know it. "

(Josiah wus very lame on his left leg where he had been kicked by ayearlin'. 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 downthrough the centuries! If every calf should amble right out, marked withits own name and the name of its owner, what a sight, what a sight itwould 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 asickly smile; and he murmured in a meachin' voice, and with a sheepishsmile, --

"'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 yellerthose 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 andwore with tears. 

"'Culture, ' 'Intellect, ' 'Refinement. ' These calves would march rightalong by the side of 'Pride, ' 'Vanity, ' 'Old Creeds, ' 'Bigotry, ''Selfishness. ' The last-named would be too numerous to count with thenaked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right throughmeetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why, " says I, "the ground tremblesunder 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, "Parablesare 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 andbutter; and them, applied to his stomach internally, seemed to sooth him, --them, and the nice tender steak, and light biscuit, and lemon puddin' andcoffee, 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 oldmare shod. And I see sadly, as he stood to the lookin'-glass combin' outhis few hairs, how every by-path his mind sot out on led up gradually toWashington, D. C. For as he stood there, and spoke of the mare's feet, hesays, --

"The mare is good enough for Jonesville, Samantha. But when we get toWashington, we want sunthin' gayer, more stylish, to ride on. Icalculate, " says he, pullin' up his collar, and pullin' down his vest, --"Ilay out to dress gay, and act gay. I calculate to make a show for once inmy life, and put on style. One thing I am bound on, --I shall drivetantrum. "

"How?" says I sternly. 

"Why, I shall buy another mare, most probable some gay-colored one, andhitch it before the old white mare, and drive tantrum. You know, it is allthe style. Mebby, " says he dreamily, "I shall ride the drag. I s'pose thatis fashionable. But I'll be hanged if I should think it would be easyridin' unless you had the teeth down. Dog-carts are stylish, I hear; butour dog is so dumb lazy, you couldn't get him to go out of a walk. Buttantrum I _will_ drive. "

[Illustration: JOSIAH DRIVING TANTRUM. ]

I groaned, and says, "Yes, I hain't no doubt that anybody that sees you atWashington, will see tantrums, strange tantrums. But you hain't thereyet. "

"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. Imentioned to him that "the bobbin to my sewin'-machine was broke, andasked him to get a new one of the agent at Jonesville. "

"Yes, " says he benignantly, "I will tend to your machine; and speakin' ofmachines, that makes me think of another thing uncle Nate and I wustalkin' about. "

"Machine politics, I sha'n't favor 'em. What under the sun do they wantmachines to make politics with, when there is plenty of men willin', andmore than willin', to make 'em? And it is as expensive agin. Machines costso 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 shalluse 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 freetrade? I shall go for that strong. Why, I can tell you, it will come handyalong in the winter when the hens don't lay, and we don't make butter toturn off--it will come dretful handy to jest hitch up the mare, and go tothe store, and come home with a lot of groceries of all kinds, and somefresh 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 likethe idee. 

"Why, the Government, of course. "

I shook my head 2 or 3 times back and forth. I couldn't seem to get theright sense of it. "I can't understand it, Josiah. We heard a good dealabout free trade, but I can't believe that is it. "

"Wall, it is, jest that. Free trade is one of the prerequisits of asenator. Why, what would a man want to be a senator for, if they couldn'tmake 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 nateralI 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 andhonor, 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 achance. Why, I calculate to do jest as they all do. What is the use ofstartin' up, and bein' one by yourself?"

Says I, "That is what Pilate thought, Josiah Allen. " Says I, "The majorityhain't always right. " Says I firmly, "They hardly ever are. "

"Now, that is a regular woman's idee, " says he, goin' into the bedroom fora 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' butnonsense clutterin' up the house with so many bureaus. 

"When wimmen get to votin', " says he sarcastickly, "I'll bet their firstmove will be to get 'em back agin. I'll bet there hain't a women in theland, 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 nationif she does. Wimmen is good in their places, " says he, as he come to me tobutton up his shirtsleeves, and tie his cravat. 

"They are good in their places. But they can't have, it hain't in 'em tohave, the calm grasp of mind, the deep outlook into the future, that menhave. They can't weigh things in the firm, careful balences of right andwrong, and have that deep, masterly knowledge of national affairs that wemen have. They hain't got the hard horse sense that anybody has got tohave in order to make money out of the nation. They would have somesentimental subjects up of right or wrong to spend their energies andtheir hearts on. Look at Cicely, now. She means well. But what would shedo? What would she make out of votin'? Not a cent. And she never wouldthink of passin' laws for her own personal comfort, either. Now, there isthe 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 tomake folks subside. Preachers, now, when they get to goin' beyond the20ethly. No preacher has any right to go to wanderin' round up beyond themfigures in dog-days. And if they could be made to subside when they hadgone fur enough, why, it would be a perfect boon to Jonesville and thenation. 

"And sewin'-machine agents--and--and wimmen, when they get all excited ascoldin', or talkin' about bonnets, and things. Why! if a man could jestlift up his hand, and say 'Subside!' and then see 'em subside--why, I hadruther 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 receiveany benefit from it. "

"Wall, you'll see it after I get to Washington, D. C. , most probable. Icalculate to jest straighten out things there, and get public affairs in agood runnin' order. The nation _needs_ me. "

"Wall, " says I, wore out, "it can _have you_, as fur as I amconcerned. "

And I wus so completely fagged out, that I turned the subject completelyround (as I s'posed) by askin' him if he laid out to sell our apples thisyear where he did last. The man's wife had wrote to me ahead, and wantedto know, for they had bought a new dryin'-machine, and wanted to make sureof apples ahead. 

"Wall, " says Josiah, drawin' on his overshoes, "I shall probable have touse 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 voteson 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 tocome. He looked kinder pitiful at me (he loves me). But yet his love didnot soften the firm resolve that wus spread thick over his linement as hewent 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 isso much iniquity and cheatin' a goin' on now in politics, that I may haveto give a bushel and a half, or two bushels: and then, I shall make up alot of the smaller ones into hard cider, and use 'em to--to advance theinterests 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 tellyou 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 cupto your neighbor's lips, for your own gain? Do you expect, if you do, thatyou 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; andit seems to me as if you can never be forgiven. "

"Dumb it all, Samantha, if everybody else does so, where will I get myvotes?"

"Go without 'em, Josiah Allen; go down to poverty, or the tomb, but nevercommit this sin. 'Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his neighbor'slips. '"

"They hain't my neighbors, and it probable hain't no cup that they willdrink out of: they will drink out of gobblers" (sometimes when Josiah getsexcited, he calls goblets, gobblers). But I wus too wrought up and by theside of myself to notice it. 

Says I, "To think a human bein', to say nothin' of a perfessor, would goto work deliberate to get a man into a state that is jest as likely as notto end in a murder, or any crime, for gain to himself. " Says I, "Think ofthe different crimes you commit by that one act, Josiah Allen. You make aman 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 thiefof 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 dutyto God and man. You are a thief of the Government--thief of God, andright. 

"Then, _you_ make this man liable to commit any crime: so, if hemurders, _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 readin them dreadful words. "

"Good landy, Samantha! do you want to scare me to death?" and Josiahquailed 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, tryto do God's will, you have His armies to surround you with a unseen wallof Strength. " "Why, I hain't seen you look so sort o' skairful and rizup, for years, Samantha. "

"I hain't felt so. To think of the brink you wuz a standin' on, and jest afallin' off of. "

Josiah looked quite bad. And he put his hand on his side, and says, "Myheart beats as if it wuz a tryin' to get out and walk round the room. I dobelieve 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, thoughthey hain't over and above willin' to own up to it. Too much population ofthe heart has ailed many a man before now, and woman too, " says I inreasonable axents. "But you mean palpitation. "

"Wall, I said so, didn't I? And it is jest your skairful talk that hasdone it. "

"Wall, if I thought I could convince men as I have you, I would foller thebusiness stiddy, of skairin' folks, and think I wuz doin' my duty. " SaysI, 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 ownreel, 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 indanger of goin' aginst the Scripter--ready to steal, or be stole, or knockdown, 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 havetold 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 myhead right up in the air, and the strings of my head-dress a floatin' outbehind me; and I'll bet there wus indignation in the float of themstrings, 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. Youknow, that is all a woman can do--to sink. She can't do any thing else ina helpful way when her beloved companion hangs over political abysses. Shecan'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' thoughtscome to me as I stood by the sink, washin' my dinner-dishes. But anon (Iknow it wus jest anon, for the water wus bilein' hot when I turned it outof the kettle, and it scalded my hands, onbeknown to me, as I washed outmy sass-plates) this thought gripped holt of me, right in front of thesink, --

"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, youcan, if your worst fears are realized, try to keep him to home. For if hisacts and words are like these in Jonesville, what will they be inWashington, D. C. , if that place is all it has been depictered to you? Holdup, Samantha! Be firm, Josiah Allen's wife! John Rogers! The nine! One atthe breast!"

So at last, by these almost convulsive efforts at calmness, I grew morecalmer 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 itseemed they got into a dispute that day about the cupelow. They wanted tohave the figger of Liberty sculped out on it; and they had got the manthere all ready, and he had begun to sculp her as a woman, --the goddessof 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 wantedhim depictered as a man, with whiskers and pantaloons and a standin'collar, and boots and spurs--Josiah Allen wus the one that wanted thespurs. 

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 oldmare home, almost beyond her strength, he wus so anxious to have itsettled. 

I wus jest makin' some cream biscuit for supper as he come in, and askedme about it; and a minute is a minute in makin' warm biscuit. You want tomake 'em quick, and bake 'em quick. My mind wus fairly held onto thatdough--and needed on it; but instinctively I told him he wus in the rightont. Liberty here in the United States wuz a man, and, in order to beconsistent, 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' hisboot-heel onto the respectful petition of fifty thousand wimmen, who hadventured to ask him for a little mite of what he wus s'posed to havequantities of--Freedom. 

"Or, " says I, "he might be depictered as settin' on a judgment-seat, andwavin' off into prison an intelligent Christian woman, who had spent herwhole noble, useful life in studyin' the laws of our nation, for darin' tothink she had as much right under our Constitution, as a low, totallyignorant coot who would most likely think the franchise wus some sort of ameat-stew. "

Says I, "That will give Liberty jest as imperious and showy a look asspurs would, and be fur more historick and symbolical. "

Wall, he said he would mention it to 'em; and says he, with a contentedlook, --

"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 houseafforded, 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 seethe thought of bein' a senator wus ever before him. The cares and burdensof political life seemed to be a loomin' up in front of him, and in aquiet 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 "whatit 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 tothe other party. I am a Democrat, and this is party spoils. I am goin' tokeep 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 topractise 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, JosiahAllen!"

And I made him. 

The _idee_. 

But I see in this and in many kindred things, that he wuz a dwellin' onthis thought of political life--its honors and emollients. And often, andin dark hints, he would speak of his _Plan_. If every other meansfailed, 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 sleepin the kitchen, "how her grandpa had got up somethin' that no other babe'sgrandpa had ever thought of, and how she would probable see him in theWhite 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 hisplan. 

I had known his plans in the past, and had hefted 'em. And I truly feltthat his plans wus liable any time to be the death of him, and theruination. 

But he wouldn't tell!

But kep' his mind immovibly sot, as I could see. And the very day of theshovel episode, along towards night he rousted out of a brown study, --asort 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 havesurprized 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 loveto 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 rightdown 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 fearof 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'. TheGovernment feels jest as I do, --that it would be wrong to stir up oldbitternesses, and race differences. The bloody shirt has been washed, andironed out; and it wouldn't be right to dirty it up agin. The colored raceis now at peace; and if they will only do right, do jest as the white menwants '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, Ihave got to begin to practise sometime. "

"Wall, " says I, "bring me in a pail of water. " But as he went out afterit, 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, Icommenced to make preparations for embarkin' on my tower. And no martyrthat ever sot down on a hot gridiron wus animated by a more warm andmartyrous feelin' of self-sacrifice. Yes, I truly felt, that if there wusdangers to be faced, and daggers run through pardners, I felt I wouldruther 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. Andyet, when my mind roamed on some public men, and how fur they run, I wouldgroan, 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 beaccomplished speedily; so I commenced makin' preparations, and layin' onplans. 

As become a woman of my cast-iron principles, I fixed up mostly on theinside of my head instead of the outside. I studied the map of the UnitedStates. I done several sums on the slate, to harden my mind, and help megrasp 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 hasbeen my stay in so many hard-fit battle-fields of principle, --Fox'es "Bookof Martyrs. "

I studied G. Washington's picture on the parlor-wall, to get kinderstirred up in my mind about him, so's to realize to the full my privilegesas 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 ofthe revered and noble G. Washington. I am going shortly to weep on histomb 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 hisinscription on the door of the infern"--

Says I, "Cease instantly. You are on the very pint of swearin';" and Idon't know now what he meant, and don't much care. Thomas J. Is full ofqueer remarks, anyway. But deep. He had a sick spell a few weeks ago; andI went to see him the first thing in the mornin', after I heard of it. Hehad overworked, the doctor said, and his heart wuz a little weak. Helooked 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 Iam 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 ThomasJefferson Allen. He is _just right_, and always wuz. And though Iwouldn't have it get out for the world, I can't help seein' it, that hegoes fur ahead of Tirzah Ann in intellect, and nobleness of nater; andthough I love 'em both devotedly, I _do_, and I can't help it, likehim jest a little mite the best. But _this_ I wouldn't have get outfor a thousand dollars. I tell it in strict confidence, and s'pose it willbe kep' as such. Mebby I hadn't ort to tell it at all. Mebby it hain'tquite orthodox in me to feel so. But it is truthful, anyway. And sometimesI get to kinder wobblin' round inside of my mind, and a wonderin' which isthe best, --to be orthodox, or truthful, --and I sort o' settle down tothinkin' 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 madefor 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'tcurb it down onto Ashes of Moses, or roses, or any thing else peacible. Ifelt that this color, remindin' me of two grand heroes, --Bismark, JohnBrown, --suited me to a T. There wus two wimmen who stood ready to makeit, --Jane Bently and Martha Snyder. I chose Martha because Martha wus thename 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, theneighbors all wanted to send errents by me. 

Betsey Bobbet wanted me to go to the Patent Office, and get her twoPatent-office books, for scrap-books for poetry. 

Uncle Jarvis Bently wanted me to go to the Agricultural Bureau, and gethim a paper of lettis seed. And Solomon Cypher wanted me to get him a newkind of string-beans, if I could, and some cowcumber seeds. 

Uncle Nate Gowdey, who talked of paintin' his house over, wanted me to askthe President what kind of paint he used on the White House, and if he putin any sperits of turpentime. And Ardelia Rumsey, who wuz goin' to bemarried soon, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bed-quilt patterns tothe 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. Shethought mebby they'd have suthin' new, spread-eagle style, or suthin' ofthat kind. She said "her feller was goin' to be connected with theGovernment, and she thought it would be appropriate. "

And I asked her "how?" And she said, "he was goin' to get a patent on anew 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 thousandpieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitchesof 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 upin Jonesville for wimmen to sign; and I remember well that Ardeliacouldn't sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn't got thequilt more'n half done then. It took the biggest heft of two years to doit. And so, of course, less important things had to be put aside till shegot it finished. 

And I remember, too, that Ardelia's mother wanted to sign it; but shecouldn't, owin' to a bed-spread she wus a makin'. She wuz a quiltin' inNoah's ark, and all the animals, at that time, on a Turkey-red quilt. Iremember 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 thatquilt. And when it wuz done, it wuz a sight to behold. Though, as I saidthen, 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 itthat day. And I see jest how it wuz. I see that she couldn't sign. Itwuzn't to be expected that a woman could stop to tend to Justice orFreedom, 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 itpatented. And I thought to myself, I wonder if they'll ask me to carry acow. 

And sure enough, Josiah wanted me to dicker, if I could, for a calf fromMount Vernon, --swop one of our yearlin's for it if I couldn't do nobetter. 

But I told him right out and out, that I couldn't go into a calf-tradewith 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, thatDorlesky Burpy, a vegetable widow, come to see me; and the errents shesent by me wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest puttogether, 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 forsendin' 'em, and her need of havin' 'em done, I felt that I would do theerrents for her if a breath was left in my body. I felt that I would bearthem 2 errents of hern on my tower side by side with my own private, heftymission for Josiah. 

She come for a all day's visit; and though she is a vegetable widow, andvery humbly, I wuz middlin' glad to see her. But thinks'es I to myself asI carried away her things into the bedroom, "She'll want to send someerrent 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 Igot 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 oftattin', 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 "Iwas 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 wantedcanvassed, and how much canvass it would take?"

I knew I had a good many things to buy for my tower; and, though I wantedto obleege Dorlesky, I didn't feel like runnin' into any great expense forcanvass. 

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 JosiahAllen has political hopes: can I canvass him?"

And I says, "Yes, you can for all me. " But I mentioned cautiously, for Ibelieve in bein' straightforward, and not holdin' out no false hopes, --Isaid "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 hewuzn't canvassed. 

But she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to beparted from 'em, and how much she used to think of her husband, and howher hull life wus ruined, and how the Whiskey Ring had done it, --that, andwimmen's helpless condition under the law. And she cried, and wept, andcried 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 rightwhile I wus cryin' onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to carrythem two errents of hern to the President, and to get 'em done for her ifI possibly could. 

"She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed, and she wanted her rights; and shewanted 'em both in less than 2 weeks. "

I wiped my eyes off, and told her I didn't believe she could get 'em donein that length of time, but I would tell the President about it, and "Ithought more'n as likely as not he would want to do right by her. " Andsays I, "If he sets out to, he can haul them babys of yourn out of thatRing pretty sudden. "

And then, to kinder get her mind off of her sufferin's, I asked her howher 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 abitter 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--Susanhad five thousand dollars of her own when she married him. "

"I know it, " says she. "And I can tell you, Josiah Allen's wife, wheretheir 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 goodhouse 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 stillmore bitter axents, "You will see four mules, and a span of horses, twobuggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo-robes. He has drinked 'em allup--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 ashe 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. Andthen, 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 houseonce. "

"That girl is in the lunatick asylum. "

"Dorlesky Burpy!" says I. "Be you a tellin' the truth?" "Yes, I be, thelivin' truth. She went to New York to buy millinary goods for her mother'sstore. It wus quite cool when she left home, and she hadn't took off herwinter clothes: and it come on brilin' hot in the city; and in goin' aboutfrom store to store, the heat and the hard work overcome her, and she felldown in the street in a sort of a faintin'-fit, and was called drunk, anddragged 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 ofwhat befell her--when she come to, to find herself at the mercy of a brutein a man's shape. She went into a melancholy madness, and wus sent to theasylum. Of course they couldn't have wimmen in such places to take care ofwimmen, " 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 andgall. 

"You know, she owns a big property in tenement-houses, and otherbuildings, where she lives. Of course her taxes wus awful high; and shedidn't expect to have any voice in tellin' how that money, a part of herown 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 ofher buildin's. 

"And then another man come into power in that ward, and he natrully wantedto make some money out of her; and he had a spite aginst her, too, so heordered her to build new sidewalks. And she wouldn't tear up a goodsidewalk to please him or anybody else, so she was put to jail forrefusin' to comply with the law. "

Thinks'es I to myself, I don't believe the law would have been so hard onher if she hadn't been so humbly. The Burpys are a humbly lot. But Ididn't think it out loud. And I didn't uphold the law for feelin' so, ifit did. No: I says in pityin' tones, --for I wus truly sorry for EuniceKeeler, --

"How did it end?"

"It hain't ended, " says she. "It only took place a month ago; and she hasgot her grit up, and won't pay: and no knowin' how it will end. She laysthere a moulderin'. "

I myself don't believe Eunice wus "mouldy;" but that is Dorlesky's way oftalkin', --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 thesun, not knowin' what turn she would give to the conversation, bein' soembittered. But I felt the weather wus safe, and cotton stockin's, andfactory-cloth; and I kep' her down onto them subjects for more'n twohours. 

But, good land! I can't blame her for bein' embittered aginst men and thelaws 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 asDorlesky 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 beforeDorlesky wus born; and some think it wus the hardness between 'em, andsome 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 hisbrother 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. Hermother couldn't help herself: he had the law on his side. But it jestkilled her. She drooped right away and died, before the baby wus a yearold. She was a affectionate, tenderhearted woman; and her husband wuskinder overbearin', and stern always. 

But it wus this last move of hisen that killed her; for I tell you, it ispretty tough on a mother to have her baby, a part of her own life, tookright out of her arms, and gin to a stranger. 

For this uncle of hern wus a entire stranger to Dorlesky when the will wusmade. And almost like a stranger to her father, for he hadn't seen himsence he wus a boy; but he knew he hadn't any children, and s'posed he wusrich and respectable. But the truth wuz, he had been a runnin' down everyway, --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 thepoor young mother couldn't help herself. It has always been the boast ofour American law, that it takes care of wimmen. It took care of her. Itheld her in its strong, protectin' grasp, and held her so tight, that theonly way she could slip out of it wus to drop into the grave, which shedid in a few months. Then it leggo. 

But it kep' holt of Dorlesky: it bound her tight to her uncle, while herun through with what little property she had; while he sunk lower andlower, until at last he needed the very necessaries of life; and then hebound 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 reachedout, and dragged her back agin. Upheld by them, her uncle could compel herto give her service wherever he wanted her to work; and he wus owin' thiswoman, 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 goodwoman, who, bein' nothin' but a woman, couldn't do any thing towardsonclinchin' them powerful arms that wuz protectin' her, helped her to slipthrough 'em. And Dorlesky come to Jonesville to live with a sister of thatgood 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 tookby, died, she left Dorlesky quite a handsome property. 

And finally she married Lank Rumsey, and did considerable well, it wass'posed. Her property, put with what little he had, made 'em a comfortablehome; and they had two pretty little children, --a boy and a girl. But whenthe 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. Hewent accordin' to law; and the law of the United States don't approve of aman whippin' his wife enough to endanger her life--it says it don't. Hemade every move of hisen lawful, and felt that Dorlesky hadn't ort tocomplain 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 hertwo little children. Why, it seemed as if every thing under the sun andmoon, 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: somethink he tripped her up, but it never was proved. But, anyway, Dorleskyfell, and broke her hip bone; and her husband sued the corporation, andgot 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 fussover that, knowin' that the law of the United States was such. But whatmade it gaulin' to her wuz, that, while she was layin' there achin' insplints, he took that very money and used it to court up another womanwith. Gin her presents, jewellry, bunnets, head-dresses, artificialflowers, 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 thanthat wuz, --while she lay there, groanin' in splints, to have her husbandtake the money for her own broken bones, and dress up another woman like adoll with it. 

But the law gin it to him; and he was only availin' himself of theglorious 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 bythe help of that money, and the Whisky Ring, he got her two littlechildren away from her. 

And I wonder if there is a mother in the land, that can blame Dorlesky forgettin' 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'tblame her for feelin' fairly savage about 'em--and she duz. For as shesays to me once when we wus a talkin' it over, how every thing hadhappened 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 fewthings there are that hain't happened to me, has happened to my folks. "

And, sure enough, I couldn't dispute her. Trouble and wrongs andsufferin's seemed to be epidemic in the race of Burpy wimmen. Why, one ofher aunts on her father's side, Patty Burpy, married for her first husbandEliphalet Perkins. He was a minister, rode on a circuit. And he took Pattyon it too; and she rode round with him on it, a good deal of the time. Butshe never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still, and be kindersettled down at home. 

But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him: soshe rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly faggedout. 

He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they hadhard times to get along. But what property they had wuzn't taxed, so thathelped some; and Patty would make one doller go a good ways. 

No, their property wasn't taxed till Eliphalet died. Then the supervisortaxed it the very minute the breath left his body; run his horse, so itwas said, so's to be sure to get it onto the tax-list, and comply with thelaw. 

You see, Eliphalet's salary stopped when his breath did. And I s'posemebby the law thought, seem' she was a havin' trouble, she might jest aswell have a little more; so it taxed all the property it never had taxed acent for before. 

But she had this to console her anyway, --that the law didn't forget her inher widowhood. No: the law is quite thoughtful of wimmen, by spells. Itsays, the law duz, that it protects wimmen. And I s'pose in somemysterious way, too deep for wimmen to understand, it was protectin' hernow. 

Wall, she suffered along, and finally married agin. I wondered why shedid. But she was such a quiet, home-lovin' woman, that it was s'posed shewanted to settle down, and be kinder still and sot. But of all the badluck she had! She married on short acquaintance, and he proved to be aperfect wanderer. Why, he couldn't keep still. It was s'posed to be amark. 

He moved Patty thirteen times in two years; and at last he took her into acart, --a sort of a covered wagon, --and travelled right through the EasternStates with her. He wanted to see the country, and loved to live in thewagon: it was his make. And, of course, the law give him the control ofher body; and she had to go where he moved it, or else part with him. AndI s'pose the law thought it was guardin' and nourishin' her when it was ajoltin' 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 aindustrius, hard-workin' man, --one that never drinked a drop, and wassound on the doctrines, and give good measure to his customers: he was agrocer-man. And a master hand for wantin' to foller the laws of hiscountry, as tight as laws could be follered. And so, knowin' that the lawapproved of "moderate correction" for wimmen, and that "a man might whiphis wife, but not enough to endanger her life, " he bein' such a masterhand for wantin' to do every thing faithful, and do his very best for hiscustomers, it was s'posed that he wanted to do his best for the law; andso, 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 crossto him. They had nine little children. She always thought that two orthree 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 moreensuin'ly. But he felt that big families wuz a protection to theGovernment; and "he wanted fourteen boys, " he said, so they could allfoller their father's footsteps, and be noble, law-making, law-abidingcitizens, jest as he was. 

But she had to do every mite of the housework, and milk cows, and makebutter and cheese, and cook and wash and scour, and take all the care ofthe children, day and night, in sickness and in health, and spin and weavethe 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 abouta year's difference in their ages, some of 'em--why, I s'pose shesometimes thought more of her own achin' back than she did of the good ofthe Government; and she would get kinder discouraged sometimes, and becross to him. 

And knowin' his own motives was so high and loyal, he felt that he oughtto whip her. So he did. 

And what shows that Drusilla wuzn't so bad as he s'posed she wuz, whatshows that she did have her good streaks, and a deep reverence for thelaw, 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 mighthave 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 shestood it to be whipped, and never once whipped him in all the seventeenyears they lived together. 

She died when her twelfth child was born: there wus jest 13 monthsdifference in the age of that and the one next older. And they said sheoften 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 lastmoments. 

He died about a year after she did, leaving his 2nd wife with twins and agood 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 almostevery qualification for makin' a woman happy, only he had jest this onelittle excentricity, --that man would lock up Abagail Burpy's clothes everytime he got mad at her. 

Of course the law give her clothes to him; and knowin' it was one of thelaws of the United States, she wouldn't have complained only when she hadcompany. But it was mortifyin', and nobody could dispute it, to havecompany come, and nothin' to put on. 

Several times she had to withdraw into the wood-house, and stay most ofthe 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 liefor anybody. 

But I'll bet that Abagail Flanders beat our old Revolutionary 4 mothers inthinkin' out new laws, when she lay round under stairs, and behindbarrells, 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, youort to have peeked round them barrells, and seen Abagail's eyes. Why, theyhad hull reams of by-laws in 'em, and preambles, and "declarations ofindependence. " So I have been told. 

Why, it beat every thing I ever heard on, the lawful sufferin's of themwimmen. For there wuzn't nothin' illegal about one single trouble oftheirn. They suffered accordin' to law, every one of 'em. But it wus tufffor '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 herteeth. 

It wus after Lank had begun to kinder get after this other woman, and wusindifferent to his wive's looks, that Dorlesky had a new set of teeth onher upper jaw. And they sort o' sot out, and made her look so bad that itfairly made her ache to look at herself in the glass. And they hurt hergooms too. And she carried 'em back to the dentist, and wanted him to makeher another set. 

But the dentist acted mean, and wouldn't take 'em back, and sued Lank forthe pay. And they had a lawsuit. And the law bein' such that a woman can'ttestify in court in any matter that is of mutual interest to husband andwife--and Lank wantin' to act mean, too, testified that "they wus goodsound teeth. "

And there Dorlesky sot right in front of 'em with her gooms achin', andher face all pokin' out, and lookin' like furyation, and couldn't say aword. But she had to give in to the law. 

And ruther than go toothless, she wears 'em to this day. And I do believeit is the raspin' of them teeth aginst her gooms, and her discouraged andmad feelin's every time she looks in a glass, that helps to embitter hertowards men, and the laws men have made, so's a woman can't have thecontrol over her own teeth and her own bones. 

Wall, Dorlesky went home about 4 P. M. , I a promisin' at the last minute assacred 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 manwhere 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 dinneras I had got?"

And it wuzn't nothin' extra, I didn't think. No better than my common runof dinners. 

Wall, she hadn't been gone over an hour (she a hollerin' from the wagon, achargin' 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 woulddo 'em), and I wus a slickin' up the settin'-room, and Martha, who hadjest come in, wus measurin' off my skirt-breadths, when Josiah Allen droveup, and Cicely and the boy with him. 

And there I had been a layin' out to write to her that very night to tellher 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 thatshe could visit to Tirzah Ann's and Thomas J. 's while I wus gone. Shelooked dretful pale and sad, I thought; but she seemed glad to see me, andglad to get back. And the boy asked Josiah and Ury and me 47 questionsbetween 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 alonein her room. And, if you'll believe it, she all rousted up with the ideeof wantin' to go too. 

She says, "You know, aunt Samantha, just how I have prayed and labored formy boy's future; how I have made all the efforts that it is possible for awoman to make; how I have thrown my heart and life into the work, --but Ihave 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 sowell before, --just how weak a woman is; that they have no power, only thepower to suffer. "

It wus from that old executor, refusin' to comply with some request shehad 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 cando something for him there. " But when she mentioned the boy, I demurred inmy own mind, and kep' a demurrin'. Thinks'es I, how can I stand it, astired 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 aforebodin' 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 awarm evenin', --and we talked some about other wimmen. Not runnin' talk, orgossipin' talk, but jest plain talk, about her aunt Mary, and her auntMelissa, 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 AnnGrimshaw that was, had a young babe. She said her aunt Mary was betternow, so she had started for the Michigan; but she had had a dretful sickspell while she was there. 

While she wuz a tellin' me this, Cicely sot on one of the steps of thestoop: I sot up under it in my rockin'-chair. And she looked dretful goodto 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 thinembroidery, and her white neck and shoulders shone through it like snow. Her sleeves was all trimmed with lace, and fell back from her pretty whitearms. Her hands wus clasped over her knees; and her hair, which the boyhad got loose a playin' with her, wus fallin' round her face and neck. Andher great, earnest eyes wus lookin' into the West, and the light from thesunset fallin' through the mornin'-glorys wus a fallin' over her, till Ideclare, I never see any thing look so pretty in my hull life. And therewas some thin' more, fur more than prettiness in her face, in her bigeyes. 

It wuzn't unhappiness, and it wuzn't happiness, and I don't know as I cantell what it wuz. It seemed as if she wuz a lookin' fur, fur away, furtherthan Jonesville, further than the lake that lay beyend Jonesville, andwhich was pure gold now, --a sea of glass mingled with fire, --further thanthe cloudy masses in the western heavens, which looked like a city ofshinin' 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 whendear 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 shewould 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 theywere to each other. Why, mother could always tell when aunt Mary was illor in trouble, and she was just the same in regard to mother. And I can'tthink that when death has freed the soul from the flesh, that they willhave less spiritual knowledge of each other than when they were here; andI felt, that with such a love as theirs, death would only make their soulsnearer: and you know what the Bible says, --that 'God shall make of hisangels ministering spirits;' and I _know_ He would send no otherangel 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 inthe room with me; and I didn't know but I might _feel_ her presenceif I could not see her. And I _do_ want my mother so sometimes, auntSamantha, " says she with the tears comin' into them soft brown eyes. "Itseems as if she would tell me what to do for the boy--she always knew whatwas 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 hurtthat 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 cloudymansions 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 yourshoulders. " Says I, "The weather is very ketchin', and it looks to me asif we wus goin' to have quite a spell of it. "

And the boy overheard me, and asked me 75 questions about ketchin' theweather. 

"If the weather set a trap? If it ketched with bait, or with a hook, andwhat 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 carriedup her breakfast with my own hands, --a good one, though I am fur frombein' the one that ort to say it. 

And after breakfast, along in the forenoon, Martha, who was makin' mydress, felt troubled in mind as to whether she had better cut the polenaykitrin' ways of the cloth, or not: and Miss Gowdey had jest had one madein 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' oftea I had borrowed, and look at the polenay, and bring back tidin's fromit. 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 theboy, 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 withhim all day. 

"I am lookin' to see if I can see it. I thought I got a glimpse of it aminute 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, uncleJosiah read about it this morning, out of that big book he prays out ofafter breakfast. He said the gate was one pearl. 

"And I asked mamma what a pearl was, and she said it was just like thatring she wears that papa gave her. And I asked her where the City was, andshe said it was up in the heavens. And I asked her if I should ever seeit; 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 itinto the City. 

[Illustration: LOOKING FOR THE CITY. ]

"And I went right to being good, that minute; and I have been good for asmany as three hours, I should think. And _say_, how long have you gotto be good before you can go through? And _say_, can you see itbefore 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 ofwatchin', and tired out of bein' good;" and he wus considerable cross allthat afternoon. But he got clever agin before bedtime. And he come andleaned up aginst my lap at sundown, and asked me, I guess, about 200questions 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, andhung down over his white forehead. I _did_ love him, and couldn'thelp it, chin or no chin. 

He had been still for quite a spell, a thinkin'; and at last he brokeout, --

"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 churchmembers who sell the fire that flames up in a man's soul, and ruins hislife? What will become of them who lend their votes and their influence tomake it right? They vote on Saturdays, to make the sale of this poisonlegal, and on Sundays go to church with their respectable families. Andthey expect to go right to heaven, of course; for they have improved allthe means of grace. Hired costly pews, and give big charities--in moneyobtained 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 thinkhe 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, andsays, --

"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, andthem 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 hestubbed his foot aginst the rockin'-chair, and most fell, and snapped outenough to take my head off, --

"The dumb fools will get so before long, that a man can't drink milkporridge without their prayin' over him. "

Says I, "Be calm! stand right still in the middle of the floor, JosiahAllen, 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 forsickness, 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 isgood for medicine: if I should say I didn't, I should be a lyin', which Iam fur from wantin' to do at my age. I think it kep' mother Allen alivefor years, jest as I believe arsenic broke up Bildad Smith's chills. And Is'pose folks have jest as good a right to use it for the benefit of theirhealth, 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'twant to eat pizen for a treat, or pass it round amongst your friends. Youdon't want to play with fire for fun, or burn yourself up with it. Youdon'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, orto 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 thehands 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 histoe pained him). 

Says I thoughtfully, "Surely there is one good, reliable man left in everytown--that could be found. "

"I don't know about it, " says he, sort o' musin'ly. "I am gettin' prettyold 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 ofsalts now and then, or count anybody's pult. "

But says I firmly, "Give up that idee at once, Josiah Allen. I have comeout 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, andwound up the clock, and went to bed. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Cicely wus some better the next day. And two days before we sot sail forWashington, Philury Mesick, the girl Ury was payin' attention to, and whowas goin' to keep my house durin' my absence on my tower, come with asmall, a very small trunk, ornimented with brass nails. 

Poor little thing! I wus always sorry for her, she is so little, and sofreckled, and so awful willin' to do jest as anybody wants her to. She isa girl that Miss Solomon Gowdey kinder took. And I think, if there is anycondition that is hard, it is to be "kinder took. " Why, if I was took atall, 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 whenshe left. She left, because there wus a hardness between 'em, on accountof 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 itmade a hardness. And when Philury left Miss Gowdey's, all her worldlywealth wuz held in that poor, pitiful lookin' trunk. Why, the trunk lookedlike Philury, and Philury looked like the trunk. It looked small, andmeek, and well disposed; and the brass nails looked some like frecks, onlylarger. 

Wall, I felt sorry for her: and I s'posed, that, married or single, shewould have to wear stockin's; so I told her, that, besides her wages, shemight 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, "thatMiss Gowdey wouldn't do much for you on account of that hardness about thegrindstun; and knowin' that you hain't got no mother, I have laid out todo middlin' well by you and Ury when you get married. "

And she blushed, and said "she expected to marry Ury sometime--years andyears hence. "

"Wall, " says I, "you can spin the yarn anyway. "

Philury is a real handy little thing about the house. And so willin' andclever, that I guess, if I had asked her to jump into the oven, and bakeherself, 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 forsome 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 byhim. And the cubbard wus full and overflowin' with every thing good toeat. 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 wusglad we wus on time, because it would have worked Josiah up dretfully ifwe hadn't been. For he had spent the most of the latter part of the nightin 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, asyou may say, who should come a runnin' down to the depot but SamShelmadine, 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 Iwould try to get him a license to steal horses. "

It kinder runs in the blood of the Shelmadines to love to steal, and heowned up that it did. But he wuzn't goin' into it for that, he said: hewanted the profit of it. 

But I told him "I wouldn't do any such thing;" and I looked at him in sucha witherin' way, that I should most probable have withered him, only he isblind 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 forother kinds of meanness. 

He said they give licenses now to steal--steal folks'es senses away, andthen they would steal every thing else, and murder, and tear round intoevery kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things donefair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He was goin' West, and hethought he could do a good business, and lay up something. If he had alicense, 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 carssnorted, and I wus glad they did. They seemed to express in that wildsnort something of the indignation I felt. 

The _idee_. 

When Cicely and the boy and I got to Washington, the shades of twilightwas a shadin the earth gently; and we got a man to take us to CondelickSmith'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 toMiss Condelick Smith'ses. Condelick is my own cousin on my own side, andtravelin' on the road for groceries. 

She keeps a nice, quiet boardin'-house. Only a few boarders, "with thecomforts of a home, and congenial society, " as she wrote to me when sheheard I wus a comin' to Washington. She said we had _got_ to go toher house; so we went, with the distinct knowledge in our minds andpocket-books, of payin' for our 3 boards. 

She was very tickled to see us, and embraced us almost warmly. She hadbeen over a hot fire a cookin'. She is humbly, but likely, I have beentold and believe. 

She has got a wen on her cheek, but that don't hurt her any. Wens hain'tnothin' 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, andbathe our weary faces and hands, when we had to go down to supper. 

Miss Condelick Smith called it dinner: she misspoke herself. Havin' somuch on her hands, it is no wonder that she should make a slip once in awhile. I should, myself, if my mind wuzn't like iron for strength. Therewus only three or four to the table besides us: it wuz later than theirusial supper time. There wus a young couple there who had jest beenmarried, and come there to live. 

Ever sense we left home we had seen sights and sights of brides andgroomses. It seemed to be a good time of year for 'em; and Cicely and Iwould pass the time by guessin', from their demeaners, how long they hadbeen married. You know they act very soft the first day or two, and thenharden 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' tofoller after the groom blindly, and I see she was a layin' up trouble forherself. 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 andmotherly, --

"You are a beginner in married life; and I say to you, as one who has hadstiddy practice for 20 years, begin right. Let your affections be firm asadamant, cling closely to Duty's apron-strings, but do not too blindlycopy after your groom. Try to stand up on your own feet, and be a helpmateto him, not a dead weight for him to carry. Do branch right out, and tellwhat part of the fowl, or of life, you want, if it hain't nothin' but thegizzard 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 tome, that you won't get any thing more out of the fowl, or of life, than apiece of 'the immaterial. '"

She blushed, and said she would. And so Duty bein' appeased, and attendedto, 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 mymind 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 Ididn'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 andslighted, if I didn't call on 'em. 

And then, I had to carry Dorlesky's errent to the President anyway. And Ithought 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 feelwell yourself. I was in good spirits, and quite a number of 'em. The boywus feelin' well too. He had a little black velvet suit and a deep lacecollar, and his gold curls was a hangin' down under his little blackvelvet cap. They made him look more babyish; but I believe Cicely kept 'emso to make him look young, she felt so dubersome about his future. But helooked sweet enough to kiss right there in the street. 

I, too, looked well, very. I had on that new dress, Bismark brown, thecolor remindin' me of 2 noble patriots. And made by a Martha. I thought ofthat proudly, as I looked at George's benign face on the top of themonument, and wondered what he'd say if he see it, and hefted my emotionsI had when causin' it to be made for my tower. I realized as I meanderedalong, that patriotism wus enwrappin' me from head to foot; for my polynaywas long, and my head was completely full of Gass'es "Journal, " andStarks'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, thecolor of my dress, a good solid brown (that same color, B. B. ). And myusial long green veil, with a lute-string ribbon run in, hung down on oneside of my bunnet in its wonted way. 

It hung gracefully, and yet it seemed to me there wus both dignity andprinciple in its hang. It give me a sort of a dressy look, but none toodressy. 

And so we wended our way down the broad, beautiful streets towards theWhite House. 

[Illustration: SAMANTHA AND PAUL ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE. ]

Handsomer streets I never see. I had thought Jonesville streets wusmiddlin' handsome and roomy. Why, two double wagons can go by each otherwith perfect safety, right in front of the grocery stores, where there islots 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 ofdromedaries, and camels, and not touch each other, and then there would belots of room for men and wimmen, and for wagons to rumble, and perioguersto float up and down, --if perioguers could sail on dry land. 

Roomier, handsomer, well shadeder streets I never want to see, nor don'texpect to. Why, Jonesville streets are like tape compared with 'em; andLoontown and Toad Holler, they are like thread, No. 50 (allegory). 

Bub Smith wus well acquainted with the President's hired man, so he let usin without parlay. 

I don't believe in talkin big as a general thing. But thinks'es I, Here Ibe, 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 agood 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 themornings. 

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'texpectin' 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 goodreason why he shouldn't speak to other wimmen, --good, honorable marriedones 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 offon a short tower, without takin' a pack of cards with me. And if I had 'emright here in my pocket, or a set of dominoes, I shouldn't expect to takeup the time of the President of the United States a playin' games at thistime of the day. " Says I in deep tones, "I am a carrien' errents to thePresident that the world knows not of. "

He blushed up red; he was ashamed; and he said "he would see if I could beadmitted. "

And he led the way along, and I follered, and the boy. Bub Smith had leftus at the door. 

The hired man seemed to think I would want to look round some; and hewalked sort o' slow, out of courtesy. But, good land! how little thathired 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 myfeelin's! The nobility of 'em! and the quantity! Why, it was a perfectsight. 

But right into these exalted sentiments the hired man intruded with hisfrivolous remarks, --worse than frivolous. 

He says agin something about "not knowin' whether the President would beready 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 onprinciple, and I shall look at him through that eye, and no other. "

"Wall, " says he, turnin' sort o' red agin (he was ashamed), "have younoticed the beauty of the didos?"

But I kep' my head right up in the air nobly, and never turned to theright or the left; and says I, --

"I don't see no beauty in cuttin' up didos, nor never did. I have heardthat they did such things here in Washington, D. C. , but I do not choose tohave my attention drawed to 'em. "

But I pondered a minute, and the word "meetin'-house" struck a fearfulblow 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'seye, 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 ofskairin' 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 wehad painted our meetin-house over at a cost of upwards of 28 dollars. Butit 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 roundand see the soft richness and quiet beauty and grandeur of thesurroundings, --

"I had just as lives have him pick me out a calico dress as to pick it outmyself. And that is sayin' a great deal, " says I. "I am always veryputickuler in calico: richness and beauty is what I look out for, andwear. "

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 Presidentcan see you;" and he started off sudden, bein' called. And I jest turnedround and looked after him, for I wanted to enquire into it. I had heardof 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 haverooms devoted to that purpose. And I looked all round the room before Iventured in. But it looked neat as a pin, and not a soul in there; andthinks'es I, "It hain't probable their day for cuttin' up anticks. I guessI'll venture. " So I went in. 

But I sot pretty near the edge of the chair, ready to jump at the firstthing I didn't like. And I kep' a close holt of the boy. I felt that I wasright in the midst of dangers. I had feared and foreboded, --oh, how I hadfeared and foreboded about the dangers and deep perils of Washington, D. C. ! And here I wuz, the very first thing, invited right in broaddaylight, 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 hewould choose out of all others. And I felt stronger than ever the deepresolve that Josiah Allen should not run. He must not be exposed to suchdangers, with his mind as it wuz, and his heft. I felt that he wouldsuckumb. 

And I wondered that President Arthur, who I had always heard was a perfectgentleman, should come to have a room called like that, but s'posed it wasthere when he went. I don't believe he'd countenance any thing of thekind. 

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 andbooks. 

The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and, goodland! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed upslick--slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He had ona 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 hiskinder brown eyes as he looked up. 

[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETING THE PRESIDENT. ]

I had calculated to act noble on that occasion, as I appeared before himwho stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W. , and sot in thechair 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 onaccount 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 shalldo when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I had saidbefore 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 lookedfairly 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 gripholt of the same hellum that G. W. Had gripped holt of. O soul! be calmwhen I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot. 

I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacentchair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds, --I hain't vain, butI like to look well, --and then I at once told him of my errents. I toldhim--

"I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville, --one for myself, andtwo for Dorlesky Burpy. "

He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always lookstired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-chores done, soit didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my ownerrent 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 sortof a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and allround. "

"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'tshow off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up strongestin dangers and troubles. " And then I went on to tell him how Josiah wantedto come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had always heardWashington wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for me to lay down onmy goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety, while my pardner wasa 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 atower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and see if I dast trust mycompanion there. "And now, " says I, "I want you to tell me candid, " saysI. "Your settin' in George Washington's high chair makes me look up toyou. It is a sightly place; you can see fur: your name bein' Allen makesme feel sort o' confidential and good towards you, and I want you to talkreal honest and candid with me. " Says I solemnly, "I ask you, Allen, notas a politician, but as a human bein', would you dast to let Josiahcome?"

Says he, "The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on whatsort of a man it is that comes. " Then was a tryin' time for me. I wouldnot lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even frommyself. 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, Iwent on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered dangerousto himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my darkforebodin's about it. 

The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what Ihad always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him allhis political views and aspirations, and offered his help to theGovernment. 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 deepdangers 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 dojest right in the matter, --right by Josiah, right by the nation, right byme. 

Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and Isays in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense, --

"Would it be safe for my pardner to come to Washington? Would it be safefor 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'swasn'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 andheart. Do tell me plain, --would you dast?"

He looked full at me. He has got good, honest-looking eyes, and asensible, candid look onto him. He liked me, --I knew he did from hislooks, --a calm, Methodist-Episcopal likin', --nothin' light. 

And I see in them eyes that he didn't like Josiah's political idees. I seethat he was afraid, as afraid as death of that plan; and I see that heconsidered Washington a dangerous, dangerous place for grangers and JosiahAllens to be a roamin' round in. I could see that he dreaded thesufferin'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 redrosebud 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 oncemore them soul-harrowin' words, "_Would you dast?_"

Pity and good feelin' then seemed to overpower for a moment the statesmanand courteous diplomat. 

And he said in gentle, gracious tones, "If I tell you just what I think, Iwould not like to say it officially, but would say it in confidence, asfrom 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 willnot be United-States senator. " And says I, "You have only confirmed myfears. I knew, feelin' as he felt, that it wuzn't safe for Josiah or thenation to have him come. "

Agin he reminded me that it was told to me in confidence, and agin I wantto say that it _must_ be kep'. 

I thanked him for his kindness. He is a perfect gentleman; and he told mejest out of courtesy and politeness, and I know it. And I can be verypolite too. And I am naturally one of the kindest-hearted ofJonesvillians. 

So I says to him, "I won't forget your kindness to me; and I want to sayright 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 ahard 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 highchair under the full glare of critical inspection, is a tegus place. Idon't s'pose Garfield was really an angel, but his sufferin's andmartyrdom placed him almost in that light before the world. 

"And you have filled that chair, and filled it well. With dignity andcourtesy and prudence. And we have been proud of you, Josiah and me bothhave. "

He brightened up: he had been afraid, I could see, that we wuzn't suitedwith him. And it took a load offen him. His linement looked clearer thanit had, and brighter. 

"And now, " says I, sithin' a little, "I have got to do Dorlesky'serrents. "

He, too, sithed. His linement fell. I pitied him, and would gladly haverefrained from troubling him more. But duty hunched me; and when shehunches, I have to move forward. 

Says I in measured tones, each tone measurin' jest about the same, --halfduty, and half pity for him, --

"Dorlesky Burpy sent these errents to you. She wanted intemperance doneaway with--the Whiskey Ring broke right up. She wanted you to drinknothin' stronger than root-beer when you had company to dinner, sheofferin' to send you a receipt for it from Jonesville; and she wanted herrights, and she wanted 'em all this week without fail. "

He sithed hard. And never did I see a linement fall further than hislinement fell. I pitied him. I see it wus a hard stent for him, to do itin the time she had sot. 

And I says, "I think myself that Dorlesky is a little onreasonable. Imyself am willin' to wait till next week. But she has suffered dretfullyfrom intemperance, dretfully from the Rings, and dretfully from want ofRights. And her sufferin's have made her more voyalent in her demands, andimpatienter. "

And then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent. But my promiseweighed on me, and Duty poked me in the side. I wus determined to do theerrent 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 truthand justice out of it. 

"Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do these things, shewould 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 shouldsink: it seemed to me jest as if Dorlesky wus askin' too much of him, andwas 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 asif she was a dolly. And then I went on and told him all how she and herrelations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she hadsuffered from the Ring, till I declare, a talkin about them littlechildren of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin' as Dorleskyherself; and entirely unbeknown to myself, I talked powerful onintemperance 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 powerfulrings. 

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 ofwhiskey-dealers lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels. SaysI, "How does it look before the Nations, to see Columbia led round halftipsy 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 tothe Government. "

But I says, "Every penny they give, is money right out of the people'spockets; 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' thepeople three times that dollar, in the loss that intemperance entails, --loss of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do any thing but wobbleand stagger round; loss of wealth, by all the enormous losses of propertyand of taxation, of almshouses and madhouses, jails, police forces, paupers' coffins, and the digging of the thousands and thousands of gravesthat are filled yearly by them that reel into 'em. " Says I, "Wouldn't itbe better for the people to pay that dollar in the first place into theTreasury, than to let it filter through the dram-seller's hands, and 2 or3 cents of it fall into the National purse at last, putrid, and heavy withall these losses and curses and crimes and shames and despairs andagonies?"

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 liquorring control 'em, and lead 'em round. 

Says I, "All the intellectual and moral power of the United States arejest rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring, and are being drove bythe whiskey-dealers jest where they want to drive 'em. " Says I, "Itcontrols New-York village, and nobody pretends to deny it; and all thepiety and philanthropy and culture and philosiphy of that village has tobe 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 hullnation to? Is it' a drawin' 'em down into a slavery ten times more abjectand soul-destroyin' than African slavery ever was? Tell me, " says Ifirmly, "tell me. "

His mean looked impressed, but he did not try to frame a reply. I think hecould not find a frame. There is no frame to that reply. It is a conundrumas boundless as truth and God's justice, and as solemnly deep in its sureconsequences 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 ita drawin' Dorlesky?"

"Oh! Dorlesky!" says he, a comin' up out of his deep reveryin', butpolite, --a politer demeanerd, gentlemanly appeariner man I don't want tosee. "Ah, yes! I would be glad, Josiah Allen's wife, to do her errent. Ithink Dorlesky is justified in asking to have the Ring destroyed. But I amnot 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 somethingagreeable, I s'pose, seein' he couldn't do the errent. And he says, jestto 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 totackle sunthin' else. He answered as exhaustively as an exhauster could ata meetin', --

"I was made out of dust, and breathed into. I am made out of God anddirt. "

Oh, how deep, how deep that child is! I never had heard him say thatbefore. But how true it wuz! The divine and the human, linked so closetogether from birth till death. No philosipher that ever philosiphizedcould go deeper or higher. 

I see the President looked impressed. But the boy branched off quick, forhe seemed fairly burstin' with questions. 

[Illustration: "I AM A EPISPOCAL. "]

"_Say, _ what is this house called the White House for? Is it becauseit 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 electionsin the South, and the Congressional vote for cuttin' down the money forthe Indian schools. Legislative action to perpetuate the ignorance andbrutality 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 thatwas white, --a pearl, you know, --because every thing was pure and whiteinside the City. Is it because the laws that are made here are all whiteand 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 withJim Gowdey? He stole my jack-knife, and knocked me down, and set down onme, and took my chewing-gum away from me, and chewed it himself. And Irose 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'tagree, we must get somebody to settle our trouble for us. Why didn't shestand me up on a big white pillow out in the door-yard, and be proud ofme, 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 ringput 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 onwithout waitin' for breath, or for a answer, --

"He had heard it talked about, was it right to let anybody do wrong formoney? Did the United States do it? Did it make mean things right? If itdid, 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 UnitedStates could _make_ it right for him to do wrong, he had got tencents of his own, and he'd buy the right to get that white rat. And if Tomwanted to cry about it, let him. If the United States sold him the rightto do it, he guessed he could do it, no matter how much whimperin' therewas, 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 hetook him up, grew bigger and bigger with surprise and anxiety. I guess hethought he had got his day's work in front of him. And I told the boy wemust go. And then I says to the President, --

"That I knew he was quite a traveller, and of course he wouldn't want todie without seein' Jonesville;" and says I, "Be sure to come to our houseto supper when you come. " Says I, "I can't reccomend the huntin' so much;there haint nothin' more excitin' to shoot than red squirrels andchipmunks: 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, hewouldn't fail to take tea with me. "

Says I, "So do; and, if you get lost, you jest enquire at the Corners ofold 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 (hishands are white, and not much bigger than Tirzah Ann's). And then Iremoved the boy by voyalence, for he was a askin' questions agin, fasterthan ever; and he poured out over his shoulder a partin' dribble ofquestions, that lasted till we got outside. And then he tackled me, and heasked me somewhere in the neighborhood of a 1, 000 questions on the wayback to Miss Smiths'es. 

He begun agin on George Washington jest as quick as he ketched sight ofhis monument agin. 

"If George Washington is up on the top of that monument for tellin' thetruth, why didn't all the big men try to tell the truth so's to be stoodup on pillows outdoors, and not be a layin' down in the grass? And did thelittle hatchet help him do right? If it did, why didn't all the big menwear 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 Icounted 'em; and there wuz 18 posts. 

Good land! I'd ruther wash than try to answer him; but he looked so sweetand good-natured and confidin', his eyes danced so, and he was so awfulpretty, that I felt in the midst of my deep fag, that I could kiss himright there in the street if it wuzn't for the looks of it: he is abeautiful child, and very deep. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Wall, after dinner I sot sail for James G. Blains'es, a walkin' afoot, andcarryin' Dorlesky's errent. I was determined to do that errent before Islept. I am very obleegin', and am called so. 

When I got to Mr. Blaines'es, I was considerably tired; for thoughDorlesky's errent might not be heavy as weighed by the steelyards, yet itwas _very_ hefty and wearin' on the moral feelin's. And my firm, unalterable determination to carry it straight, and tend to it, to thevery 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, andthere was calmness in that shake. I passed the compliments of the day (howdo 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 beso 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 agentleman a settin' at the end of the room a readin'. 

I like James G. Blaines'es looks middlin' well. Although, like myself, hedon't set up for a professional beauty. It seems as if some of thestrength of the mountain pines round his old home is a holdin' up hisbackbone, and some of the bracin' air of the pine woods of Maine hasblowed 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 strongenough from a literary person to a literary person. 

We are both literary, very. He is considerable taller than I am; and onthat 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 betterway 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 hadbrought 'em from Jonesville on my tower. 

And then I told him jest how she had suffered from the Whisky Ring, andhow she had suffered from not havin' her rights; and I told him all abouther relations sufferin', and that Dorlesky wanted the Ring broke, and herrights 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, andI 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 lengthof time she has set. "

Says I, "That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could doher 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 bereconciled. "

"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, Ihad to. 

Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't thewoman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the wrong tonesat 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 shouldnot 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. Iput on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble, high-headedmean 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'sfaults; 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 downinto the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and sayshe, --

"I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. Andwhile I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the sametime 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 sotquietly 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 hislinement, --

"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 overWashington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub istrusty: I'll send him. " And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is agentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort ofa 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 himthat 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 gentlemanin 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' anyfurther. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots ofother wimmen. "

Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaineintroduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blainespoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick itup; 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 Ididn'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 asdisagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of hiseyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more closethan 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 hedidn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or theperfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised himfrom the first minute. 

Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for hismean. 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 ofaiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it, " or words to thateffect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want toif I could. 

But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly infront of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all ofDorlesky'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' herrights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's; and all her auntEunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's, sufferin's. I did hererrent up honorable and square, as I would love to have a errent done forme. 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 ofhisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fashion; andhe 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 donot wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen arelovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them. " And he sithed. "_You_ are very beautiful. " And he sithed agin, a sort of adeceitful, love-sick sithe. 

I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing againsther stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk orhis sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad, injured look, asif my coldness wus ondoin' of him, --

"My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, howevercarefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you aleaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into thetraits and habits of our American wad?"

"What?" says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by justindignation, can stand only jest so much strain. "The what?"

"The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that tailorsmake 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 thehardy 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 statesmenwill use to wimmen, and I had heard much of their lies, etc. ; but truly, Ifelt that the 1/2 had not been told. And then I thought out loud, andsays, --

"I have hearn how laws of right and justice are sot one side inWashington, D. C. , as bein' too triflin' to attend to, while thelegislators pondered over, and passed laws regardin', hens' eggs andbirds' nests. But this is goin' too fur--too fur. But, " says I firmly, "Ishall do Dorlesky's errents, and do 'em to the best of my ability; and youcan't draw off my attention from her sufferin's and her suffragin's bytalkin' about wads. "

"I would love to obleege Dorlesky, " says he, "because she belongs to sucha lovely sex. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that everwalked the earth: they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses. "

Says I firmly, "That hain't no such thing. They are disagreable creeters agood deal of the time. They hain't no better than men. But they ought tohave their rights all the same. Now, Dorlesky is disagreable, and kinderfierce actin', and jest as humbly as they make wimmen; but that hain't nosign she ort to be imposed upon. Josiah says, 'She hadn't ort to have aright, not a single right, because she is so humbly. ' But I don't feelso. "

"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 allearthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes, " says he, liftin' hiseyes to the heavens, and kinder shettin' 'em, some as if he was goin' intoa trance, "fly around, ye angels, in your native haunts! mingle not withrings, and vile laws; flee away, flee above them. "

And he kinder moved his hand back and forth, in a floatin' fashion, up inthe air, as if it was a woman a flyin' up there, smooth and serene. Itwould have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn't me. I saysreasonably, --

"Dorlesky would have been glad to flew above 'em. But the ring and thevile laws laid holt of her, unbeknown to her, and dragged her down. Andthere she is, all dragged and bruised and brokenhearted by it. She didn'tmeddle with the political ring, but the ring meddled with her. How can shefly 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, theseangelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty, to mingle withthe rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are now: weare willing to stand the rude buffetings of--of--voting, in order to guardthese 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 islike thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral stomach. " Says I, "You know, andI know, that these angelic, tender bein's, half clothed, fill our streetson icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. Theyare driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want liquor-drinkin' entails. They are starved, they are frozen, they are beaten, theyare made childless and hopeless, by drunken husbands killing their ownflesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves, and are drowned bydrunken captains; they are cast from railways into death, by drunkenengineers; they go up on the scaffold, and die of crimes committed by thedirect 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 'emdo, 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 poorhouseor jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever heard of a angelbein' dragged off to a police court by a lot of men, for fightin' todefend her children and herself from a drunken husband that had broke herwings, and blacked her eyes, himself, got the angel into the fight, andthen she got throwed into the streets and the prison by it? Who ever heardof a angel havin' to take in washin' to support a drunken son or father orhusband? Who ever heard of a angel goin' out as wet nurse to get money topay taxes on her home to a Government that in theory idolizes her, andpractically despises her, and uses that same money in ways abomenable tothat 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 keepthe 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 thelaws of her country, is jest as pretty as I ever heard any thing, and jestas simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes into thestreet, and say, 'Some of 'em are female flakes, and mustn't be trampledon. ' The great march of life tramples on 'em all alike: they fall from onecommon sky, and are trodden down into one common ground. 

"Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human needsand weaknesses, needin' the same heavenly light, and the same human aidsand helps. The law should meet out to them the same rewards andpunishments. 

"Dorlesky says you call wimmens angels, and you don't give 'em the rightsof the lowest beasts that crawls upon the earth. And Dorlesky told me totell you that she didn't ask the rights of a angel: she would be perfectlycontented and proud if you would give her the rights of a dog--the assuredpolitical rights of a yeller dog. She said 'yeller;' and I am bound ondoin' 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 isnot allowed any hand in making. A dog don't have to pay taxes on its boneto a Government that withholds every right of citizenship from it. 

"A dog hain't called undogly if it is industrious, and hunts quietly roundfor its bone to the best of its ability, and wants to get its share of thecrumbs 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 thatthese very preachers have made legal and respectable. 

"A dog don't have to see its property taxed to advance laws that itbelieves ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the hearts of otherdear dogs. 

"A dog don't have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that denyit 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 adog. 

"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, andshe feels jest so. She feels she must do every thing she can to altermatters. 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 bemuch worse than they be now, and may be a little better. "

"Ah! if Dorlesky wishes to influence political affairs, let her influenceher children, --her boys, --and they will carry her benign and nobleinfluence 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 ashinin' member, he got possession of her boy. And so, the law has made itperfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him. WhatDorlesky does, she must do herself. "

"Ah! A sad thing for Dorlesky. I trust that you have no grievance of thekind, 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 mychoice, and he don't drink a drop. "

"Pardon me, madam; but if you are happy, as you say, in your marriagerelations, and your husband is a temperate, good man, why do you feel soupon this subject?"

"Why, good land! if you understand the nature of a woman, you would knowthat my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel abouthim, 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 tohelp him in some safe, sure way. 

"High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman's lifeis, the more does she feel for them who are less blessed than she. Highestlove goes lowest, if need be. Witness the love that left Heaven, anddescended 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 raceof the nation--and for the men too. Lots of 'em are good creeters--betterthan wimmen, some on 'em. They want to do jest about right, but don'texactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times, some of themasters was more to be pitied than the slaves. They could see theinjustice, 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 tograpple with it, and throw it. 

"So now, many men see the great evils of this time, want to help it, butdon't know the best way to lay holt of it. 

"Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try toget the right answer to it as fur as we can. Dorlesky feels that one ofthe 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 ownhappiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half woodenone, but dear). 

"My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give socialhappiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property enough, and more than enough, for all the comforts of life. And, above all otherthings, my Josiah is my love and my theme. "

"Ah! yes!" says he. "Love is a woman's empire, and in that she should findher full content--her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman willnot 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 mostbeautiful thing on earth, the most holy, the most satisfyin'. But whichwould you like best--I do not ask you as a politician, but as a humanbein'--which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest, tendernature--for in man or woman, 'the strongest are the tenderest, the lovingare the daring'--which would you like best, the love and respect of such anature, full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite variety, or the love of afool?

"A fool's love is wearin': it is insipid at the best, and it turns toviniger. Why! sweetened water _must_ turn to viniger: it is itsnater. 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 thecompanionship of the man she loves, and who loves her, will, if she is atrue woman, satisfy fully her own personal needs and desires; and shewould far rather, for her own selfish happiness, rest quietly in thatlove--that most blessed home. 

"But the bright, quick intellect that delights you, can't help seeingthrough an injustice, can't help seeing through shams of all kinds--shamsentiment, sham compliments, sham justice. 

"The tender, lovin' nature that blesses your life, can't help feelin' pityfor those less blessed than herself. She looks down through the love-guarded lattice of her home, --from which your care would fain bar out allsights of woe and squalor, --she looks down, and sees the weary toilersbelow, the hopeless, the wretched; she sees the steep hills they have toclimb, 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 fromliftin' up the fallen, wipin' tears from weepin' eyes, speakin' bravewords for them who can't speak for themselves. 

"The very strength of her affection that would hold you up, if you were introuble or disgrace, yearns to help all sorrowin' hearts. 

"Down in your heart, you can't help admirin' her for this: we can't helprespectin' the one who advocates the right, the true, even if they are ourconquerors. 

"Wimmen hain't angels: now, to be candid, you know they hain't. Theyhain't better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems curiousto me, that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort to be morehonest and open than wimmen. They hain't had to cajole and wheedle, andspile their natures, through little trickeries and deceits, and indirectways, that wimmen has. 

"Why, cramp a tree-limb, and see if it will grow as straight and vigorousas it would in full freedom and sunshine. 

"Men ort to be nobler than wimmen, sincerer, braver. And they ort to beashamed of this one trick of theirn; for they know they hain't honest init, they hain't generous. 

"Give wimmen 2 or 3 generations of moral freedom, and see if men willlaugh at 'em for their little deceits and affectations. 

"No: men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler; and they will both comenearer bein' angels, though most probable they won't be angels: they won'tbe 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, hefelt that natural human instinct was against the change. " He said, "insavage races, who knew nothing of civilization, male force and strengthalways ruled. "

Says I, "History can't be disputed; and history tells of savage raceswhere 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 aright to be monarch as his female companion has. That is, " says Ireasonably, "if he knows as much, and is as good a calculator as she is. Ilove justice, I almost worship it. "

Agin he sithed; and says he, "Modern history don't seem to encourage theskeme. "

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 Iapproved of overwhelmin'. But I merely ask you to cast your right eye overinto England, and then beyond it into France. Men have ruled exclusivelyin France for the last 40 or 50 years, and a woman in England: which realmhas been the most peaceful and prosperous?"

He sithed twice. And he bowed his head upon his breast, in a sad, almostmeachin' way. I nearly pitied him, disagreable as he wuz. When all of asudden he brightened up; and says he, --

"You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible isaginst the idee. The Bible teaches man's supremacy, man's absolute powerand might and authority. "

"Why, how you talk!" says I. "Why, in the very first chapter, the Bibletells how man was jest turned right round by a woman. It teaches how shenot only turned man right round to do as she wanted him to, but turned thehull world over. 

"That hain't nothin' I approve of: I don't speak of it because I like theidee. That wuzn't done in a open, honorable manner, as I believe thingsshould be done. No: Eve ruled by indirect influence, --the 'gentlyinfluencing men' way, that politicians are so fond of. And she jestbrought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it. A few yearslater, after men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen rulingIsrael openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah, and other likely old 4mothers, 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 approvedof bettin'. "

He sithed powerful, and sot round oneasy in his chair. And says he, "Ithought 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 supremehappiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin' them Ilove. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors. "

"Wall, " says he faintly, "the Old Testament may teach that wimmen has somestrenth and power; but in the New Testament, you will find that in everygreat undertakin' and plan, men have been chosen by God to carry itthrough. "

"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 earlyyouth. "

And then he went on, sort o' apologizin', "He had always meant to read itthrough. But he had entered political life at an early age, and hebelieved he had never read any more of it, only portions of Gulliver'sTravels. 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 hadalways heard and believed that man was the only worker God had chosen. "

"Why, " says I, "the one great theme of the New Testament, --the redemptionof the world through the birth of the Christ, --no man had any thing to dowith that whatever. Our divine Lord was born of God and woman. 

"Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called womeninto that work, --the divine work of helpin' a world. 

"God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire for a world'swork of sufferin' and renunciation. The soft airs of Gallilee wrapped herabout in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams in maidenpeace, dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and quiet and happiness. 

"From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy, innocentgirlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin' to redeem a worldfrom sin. 

"And did not this woman's love, and willin' obedience, and sufferin', andthe shame of the world, set her apart, babtize her for this work ofliftin' up the fallen, helpin' the weak?

"Is it not a part of woman's life that she gave at the birth and thecrucifixion?--her faith, her hope, her sufferin', her glow of divine pityand joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure heavenly, have they not for 1800 years been blessin' the world? The God in Christwould 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 sinfulcity, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon the cross, tocomfort his mother's heart, provide for her future--it is this element inour Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him, dare to kneel at Hisfeet. 

"And since woman wus so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-workerwith God in the beginnin' of a world's redemption; since He called herfrom the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace, into the blessedmartyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin', all to help a world thatcared nothing for her, that cried out shame upon her, --will He not helpher to carry on the work that she helped commence? Will He not approve ofher continuin' in it? Will He not protect her in it?

"Yes: she cannot be harmed, since His care is over her; and the cause sheloves, the cause of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too, and Godwill take care of His own. Herods full of greed, and frightenedselfishness, may try to break her heart, by efforts to kill the child sheloves; but she will hold it so close to her bosom, that he can't destroyit. And the light of the divine will go before her, showin' the way shemust 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, Ithink, judging from recent laws. You ask who Herod was; and, as it allseems to be a new story to you, I will tell you. That when the Saviour ofthe 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, andlove 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 signthat all men was mean. Joseph, now, was likely as he could be. "

"Joseph, " says he pensively. "Do you allude to our senator fromConnecticut, --Joseph R. Hawley?"

"No, no, " says I. "He is likely, as likely can be, and is always on theright side of questions--middlin' handsome too. But I am talkin' Bible--Iam talkin' about Joseph, jest plain Joseph, and nothin' else. "

"Ah! I see I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed inpolitics, and political literature, I don't get any time to devote to lessimportant publications. "

Says I candidly, "I knew you hadn't read it, I knew it the minute youmentioned the Book of Lilliputions. But, as I was a sayin', Joseph was alikely man. He did the very best he could with what he had to do with. Hehad the strength to lead the way, to overcome obsticles, to keep dangersfrom Mary, to protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his generousdevotion. 

[Illustration: BEARING THE BABY PEACE. ]

"_But she carried the child on her bosom_. Pondering high things inher 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, alittle ahead mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength andcourage. She, a carryin' the infant Christ of love, bearin' the baby Peacein 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 enableher to carry it through. He will protect her from her own weaknesses, andfrom 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; andthe wise men are even now coming from afar over the desert, seekingdiligently where this redeemer is to be found. " He sot demute. He did notframe a reply: he had no frame, and I knew it. Silence rained for sometime; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain, --

"Will you do Dorlesky's errents? Will you give her her rights? And willyou break the Whisky Ring?"

He said he would love to do Dorlesky's errents. He said I had convincedhim that it would be just and right to do 'em, but the Constitution of theUnited States stood up firm against 'em. As the laws of the United Statewuz, 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 theglorious Constitution that our 4 fathers left us--an immortal, sacredlegacy?"

He jumped right up on his feet, in his surprise, and kinder shook, as ifhe was skairt most to death, and tremblin' with borrow. He did it to skairme, I knew; and I wuz most skaird, I confess, he acted so horrowfied. ButI knew I meant well towards the Constitution, and our old 4 fathers; andmy principles stiddied me, and held me middlin' firm and serene. And whenhe 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 theunalterable 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 hiseyes at me!

Says I, "Hain't they never been changed?"

He dropped that skairful look in a minute, and put on a firm, judicialone. 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 makeNorthern 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-houndsthe 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 toutelize the surplufus liquor they import. " Says he, gettin' kinderanimated, for he was on a congenial theme, --

"Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can't exactly calculate on howmuch 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 aremakin' a powerful effort to change the laws now, so as to take the tax offof whisky, so it can be sold cheaper, and be obtained in greaterquantities by the masses. Any such great laws for the benifit of thenation, of course, would justify a change in the Constitution and thelaws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we malecustodians of the sacred Constitution would stand as walls of iron beforeit, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be, faithfulunto death. "

Says I, "As it has been changed, it can be again. And you jest said I hadconvinced 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 wehave no time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I don't thinkyou realize the constant pressure of hard work, that is ageing us, andwearing us out, before our day. 

"As I said, we have to watch the liquor-interest constantly, to see thatthe liquor-dealers suffer no loss--we _have_ to do that. And then, wehave 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'tbegrudge labor if we can advance measures of economy. You see, it wastaking sights of money just to Christianize and civilize Injuns--savages. Why, the idea was worse than useless, it wus perfectly ruinous to theIndian agents. For if, through those schools, the Indians had got to beself-supporting and intelligent and Christians, why, the agents couldn'tbuy their wives and daughters for a yard of calico, or get them drunk, andbuy 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 stillaccruing to the Government--or, as it were, the servants of Government, the agents. You see, " says he, "don't you, just how important the subjectsare, 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 onour minds, we have to clean out all the creeks in the South, so theplanters can have smooth sailing. But we think, " says he dreamily, "wethink we have saved money enough out of the Indian schools, to clean outmost of their creeks, and perhaps have a little left for a few New-Yorkaldermen, to reward them for their arduous duties in drinking and votingfor 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, weought to send in the ship with them, some appropriate biblical texts, andsome mottoes emblematical of our national eagle protecting and clawing thedifferent nations. 

"And when we send the Irish paupers back into poverty and ignorance, weought to send in the same ship, some resolutions condemning England forher treatment of Ireland. "

Says I, "Most probable the Goddess of Liberty Enlightenin' the World, inNew-York Harbor, will hold her torch up high, to light such ships on theirway. "

And he said, "Yes, he thought so. " Says he, "There is very important lawsup 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 theconstant strain on our minds in trying to pass laws to increase our ownsalaries, you can see just how cramped we are for time. And though wewould love to pass some laws of Truth and Righteousness, --we fairly acheto, --yet, not having the requisite time, we are obliged to lay 'em on thetable, 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 ofdignity, "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 oldchiefs, 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 theerrent. "

"Wall, " says I, "I will send the errent to him by Bub Smith; for I am woreout. "

As I wended, my way out of Mr. Blains'es, I met the hired man, Bub Smith'sfriend; 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 gladto show it to me. So we walked along in that direction. 

It seems that Bub Smith saved the life of his little sister--jumped offinto the water when she was most drowned, and dragged her out. And fromthat time the two families have thought the world of each other. That iswhat 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 andgrandeur. There hain't one that can come nigh it. Why, take all themeetin'-housen of these various places, and put 'em all together, and putseveral other meetin'-housen on top of 'em, and they wouldn't begin toshow 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 andstrange 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, andrealized the size and majestic proportions of the buildin', I wondered tomyself that a small law, a little, unjust law, could ever be passed insuch a magnificent place. 

[Illustration: SAMANTHA VIEWING THE CAPITOL. ]

Says I to myself, "It can't be the fault of the place, anyway. They havegot a chance for their souls to soar if they want to. " Thinks'es I, hereis room and to spare, to pass by laws big as elephants and camels. And Iwondered to myself that they should ever try to pass laws and resolutionsas small as muskeeters and nats. Thinks'es I, I wonder them little lawsdon'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 theydid. 

But right here, as I was a thinkin' on these deep and lofty subjects, thehired man spoke up; and says he, --

"You look fatigued, mom. " (Soarin' even to yourself, is tuckerin'. ) "Youlook very fatigued: won't you take something?"

I looked at him with a curious, silent sort of a look; for I didn't knowwhat he meant. 

Agin he looked close at me, and sort o' pityin'; and says he, "You looktired 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 strangeways there in Washington, anyway. And I didn't know but it was their wayto make some presents to every woman who come there: and I didn't want tobe 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 shouldinsist on it. But, if I have got to take something I had jest as liveshave a few yards of factory-cloth as any thing. "

I thought, if he was determined to treat me, to show his good feelin'stowards 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 gotto take a present from a strange man, I would make a shirt for Josiah outof 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 herehandy. " Says I, "Liquor does more towards makin' the laws of the UnitedStates, from caucus to convention, than any thing else does; and it ishighly proper to have some liquor here handy, so they can soak the laws init 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 aglass. "

"No, you won't, " says I firmly, "no, you won't. The nation suffers enoughfrom that room now, without havin' Josiah Allen's wife let in. "

Says he (his friendship for Bub Smith makin' him anxious and sot onhelpin' me), "If you have any feeling of delicacy in going in there, letme make some wine here. I will get a glass of water, and make you somepure grape wine, or French brandy, or corn or rye whiskey. I have all thedrugs right here. " And he took out a little box out of his pocket. "Myfather is a importer of rare old wines, and I know just how it is done. Ihave 'em all here, --capiscum, coculus Indicus, alum, coperas, strychnine. I will make some of the choicest and purest imported liquors we have inthe 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, andcommit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison asshe 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 doany 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 hadhad 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 hewanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some deeparguments 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 tothe 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 hethought 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 upon 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 yearon young ones. He didn't know but he might buy a old woman. He said therewas 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 comedown 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 thanif she had always been worked. He thought, if she didn't fetch too big aprice, he should buy her instead of a young one. They was so balky, hesaid, young ones was, and would need more to eat, bein' growin'. And shecould do rough, heavy work, just as well as a younger one, and probablywouldn'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 couldhave converted me. " Says I, "A race of bein's, that make such laws asthese, 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 noblescorn filling my eye, and floating out the strings of my head-dress, Imoved off to bed. 

Wall, the next mornin' I sent Dorlesky's errents by Bub Smith to WilliamWallace, for I felt a good deal fagged out. Bub did 'em well, and I knowit. 

But William Wallace sent him to Gen. Logan. 

And Gen. Logan said Grover Cleveland was the one to go to: he wuz a sotman, 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 todo the errent. 

And Mr. Bayard sent him to somebody else, and somebody else sent him toanother 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, butthey couldn't do 'em, and wouldn't tell their reasons. 

One or two, Bub said, opposed it, because they said right out plain, "thatthey wanted to drink. They wanted to drink every thing they could, andeverywhere they could, --hard cider and beer, and brandy and whisky, andevery thing. "

And they didn't want wimmen to vote, because they liked to have the powerin 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 wasexceptions. Most every one of 'em said they couldn't do it, and wouldn'ttell their reasons. 

Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein' alittle in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the reasonswhy the senators wouldn't do the errents. 

He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was rightand just, to their own souls and their own country. He said--for theliquor had made him _very_ open-hearted and talkative--that they knewthe course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime againstGod and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle unpopularsubjects. 

He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them, andthey knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of thousandsand thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for 'em frommorn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And if wimmenwas allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as breaking thering right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though they knew thatboth 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 theUnited States. 

"Good land!" says I. "What a idee! to think that doin' right would make aman unpopular. But, " says I, "I am glad to know they have got a reason, ifit 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 theSenate. 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 hullcrew 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'serrents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen onthis very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful, tothe lawmakers of the land. 

And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, andcalled it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you everheard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted sohaughty 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--(heowned it up to me)--he was afraid they would knock him down. So he backedout 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 tothe deepest, most earnest, and most prayerful words that could come fromthe hearts of thousands and tens of thousands of the best mothers andwives and daughters in America, the most intelligent and upright and pure-minded women in the land, loaded down with their hopes, wet with theirtears--if they turned their hearts', prayers and deepest desires intoridicule, throwed 'em round under their feet, they wouldn't pay noattention to Dorlesky's errents, they wouldn't notice one little vegitablewidow, humbly at that, and sort o' disagreeable. " And says I, "I don'twant Dorlesky's errents throwed round under foot, and she made fun of: shehas 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 thoughtwe had about it afterwards, "they might be gentlemen in every other placeon earth; but in this one move of theirn, " as I observed confidentially tothe Dictionary, "they was jest _men_--the male animal of the humanspecies. "

And I was ashamed enough as I looked Noah Webster's steel engraving in theface, 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 likedeath about it. But this thought held me up, --that I had done my best. ButI didn't feel like doin' another thing all the rest of that day, only jestfeel disapinted and grieved over my bad luck with the errents. I alwaysthink it is best, if you can possibly arrainge it in that way, to give upone 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, andthen 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 aday, when you can spare the time, and do up all your resentin' in thattime. It is easier, and takes less time than to keep resentin' 'em as theytake 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 theland, and for the men too. And I kep' up my bad feelin's till pretty nighdusk. 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 Lordlives, the sun will shine agin; and He who holds you in His hand, holdsthe 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 togrow delicater every day. 

So Miss Smith went with me, and she and I sallied out alone: her namebein' 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 thatJosiah had charged me expresly to go there, and get him a patent pail. Heneeded a new milk-pail, and thought I could get it cheaper right on thespot. 

And she said that Josiah couldn't buy his pail there. But she told me whatsights and sights of things there wus to be seen there; and I found outwhen I got there, that she hadn't told me the 1/2 or the 1/4 of the sightsI see. 

Why, I could pass a month there in perfect destraction and happiness, thesights are so numerous, and exceedingly destractin' and curious. 

But I told Sally Smith plainly, that I wasn't half so much interested inapple-parers and snow-plows, and the first sewin'-machine and the lastone, and steam-engines and hair-pins and pianos and thimbles, and theacres and acres of glass cases containing every thing that wus ever heardof, 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 overchoirs and choirs of paper, and not get half an idee of what is to be seenthere. 

But I told her I didn't feel half so interested in them things as I did inthe copyright. I told Sally plain "that I wanted to see the place wherethe 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 thecuriousest place, and he would be the curiousest lookin' creeter, that wuzever 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 smartlook onto him. Sally said "it was one of the clerks, " but I don't believea word of it. I believe it was the man himself, who made the law; for, asin all other emergincies of life, I follered Duty, and asked him "tochange 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 amair, and he expected to own it till he or the mair died. He didn't expectto give up his right to it, and let the mair canter off free at a statedtime. 

[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 ifone 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 ithappened to cross the pond. "

Says he, "There would be better laws regarding copyright, if it wuzn't forselfishness 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 changethe law quicker, I made a effort, and related a little interestin'incident that I had seen take place jest before my former departure fromJonesville, on a tower. 

"No, selfishness don't pay. I have seen it tried, and I know. Now, BildadHenzy married a wife on a speculation. She was a one-legged woman. He wasattached at the time to a woman with the usual number of feet; but he wasso close a calculator, that he thought it would be money in his pocket tomarry this one, for he wouldn't have to buy but one shoe and stockin'. Butshe had to jump round on that one foot, and step heavy; so she wore outmore shoes than she would if she was two-footed. " Says I, "Selfishnessdon't pay in private life or in politics. "

And he said "He thought jest so, " and he jest about the same as promisedme he would change the law. 

I hope he will. It makes me feel so strange every time I think out, asstrange 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 Isaid "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 alaw as that copyright law. "

And she said "that was so. " But I knew by her mean, that she didn'tunderstand 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 aword, and fell in at once with her proposal that we should go and see theTreasury, and the Corcoran Art Gallery, and the Smithsonian Institute, oneat a time. 

And I found the Treasury wuz a sight to behold. Such sights and sights ofmoney they are makin' there, and a countin'. Why, I s'pose they make moremoney 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, onaccount of my bein' there. But they have sights and sights of it. They aredretful well off. 

I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too, --I hain't one of theunderhanded kind, --I asked her, "If she s'posed they'd let us take holdand make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin' overwith 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 andlegislators and rings, and etcetery. "

But I answered right out loud, --I hain't one to go whisperin' round, --andsays I, --

"I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had forhim, 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. Ihain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over fourteen dollars byme, 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 Institutepassed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery passed throughit, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em pass; and I saysto 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 backtowards 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 thetime, it was the sheep that hampered her. 

And, oh! I s'pose it was a sight to be remembered, to see my talk to thatman. I s'pose, if it had been printed, it would have made a beautifultrack--and lengthy. 

Why, he looked fairly exhausted and cross before I got half through, Italked so smart (eloquence is tuckerin'). 

I told him how our public schools was the hope of the nation. How theyneutralized to a certain extent the other schools the nation allowed tothe public, --the grog-shops, and other licensed places of ruin. I told himhow pretty it looked to me to see Civilization a marchin' along from theAtlantic towards the Pacific, with a spellin'-book in one hand, and in theother the rosy, which she was a plantin' in place of the briars andbrambles. 

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 tobe drawed out of the water, you jest jump in, and yank 'em out. And whenyou see poor little ones, a sinkin' down in the deep waters of ignoranceand brutality, why, jest let Uncle Sam reach right down, and draw 'emout. " Says I, "I'll bet that is why he is pictered as havin' such longarms for, and long legs too, --so he can wade in if the water is deep, andthey 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'llreach 'em, Uncle Sam will. He'll lift 'em right up in his long arms, andset 'em safe on the pleasant shore. You'll see that he will. Uncle Sam isa man of a thousand. "

Says I, "How much it wus like him, to pass that law for children to belearnt jest what whisky is, and what it will do. Why, " says I, "in thatvery law Christianity has took a longer stride than she could take bymillions 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 talkedlonger. But I see his engagement wus a wearin' on him. His eyes lookedfairly wild. I only give a bald idee of what I said. I have only give theheads 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 thePeace Commission. I felt as if I must make some arrangements with 'em tonot have any more wars. As I told Sally, "We might jest as well callourselves Injuns and savages at once, if we had to keep up this mostsavage and brutal trait of theirn. " Says I firmly, "I _must_, beforeI go back to Jonesville, tend to it. " Says I, "I didn't come here forfashion, or dry-goods; though I s'pose lots of both of 'em are to be gothere. " Says I, "I may tend to one or two fashionable parties, or levys asI s'pose they call 'em here. I may go to 'em ruther than hurt the feelin'sof the upper 10. I want to do right: I don't want to hurt the feelin's ofthem 10. They have hearts, and they are sensitive. I don't think I haveever took to them 10, as much as I have to some others; but I wish 'emwell. 

"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, asthe poet says, 'To the manner born, ' and them that wasn't born in the samemanor, but tryin' to act as if they was. Wealth and display, naturalcourtesy and refinement, walkin' side by side with pretentius vulgarity, and mebby poverty bringin' up the rear. Genius and folly, honesty andaffectation, gentleness and sweetness, and brazen impudence, and hatredand malice, and envy and uncharitableness. All languages and peoples underthe 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, someon '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 andmysterius part of it is, that the fuller the dress is, the less they haveon 'em. 

"This is a deep subject, and queer; and I don't s'pose you will take myword 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 handscompletely full. I fairly pity 'em--the hull 10 of 'em. They want me, andthey 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 setflower on it. But I can do without that dress, and the upper 10 can dowithout 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 Sallyort 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 MountVernon. It was about ten o'clock A. M. When I, accompanied by Cicely andthe boy, sot sail from Washington, D. C. , to perform about the ostensiblereason 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 comeprepared. 2 linen handkerchiefs and a large cotton one reposed in thepocket of my polenay, and I had on my new waterproof. I never do things bythe 1/2s. 

It was a beautiful seen, as we floated down the still river, to look backand 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 ofthat 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 bythemselves, sot that band of dusky singers, whose songs have delighted theworld. Modest, good-lookin' dark girls, manly, honest-lookin' dark boys. 

Only a few short years ago this black people was drove about like dumbcattle, --bought and sold, hunted by blood-hounds; the wimmen hunted toinfamy and ruin, the men to torture and to death. The wimmen denied thefirst right of womanhood, to keep themselves pure. The men denied thefirst right of manhood, to protect the ones they loved. Deprived legallyof purity and honor, and all the rights of commonest humanity--worn withunpaid 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 childrenof slaves that I looked upon have been guests of the proudest and noblestin this and in foreign lands. Hands that hold the destinies of mightyempires have clasped theirs in frankest friendship, and crowned heads havebowed low before 'em to hide the tears their sweet voices have calledforth. What feelin's I felt as I looked on 'em! and my soul burned insideof me, almost to the extent of settin' my polenay on fire, a thinkin' ofall this. 

And pretty soon, right when I was a reveryin'--right there, when we wuz afloatin' clown the still waters, their voices riz up in one of theirinspired songs. They sung about their "Hard Trials, " and how the "SweetChariot 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 myhead; and I wet every one of them 3 handkerchiefs that I had calculated tomourn for G. Washington on, wet as sop. But I didn't care. I knew thatGeorge had rather not be mourned for on dry handkerchiefs, than that Ishould stent myself in emotions in such a time as this. He loved Libertyhimself, 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, andput 'em back unbeknown. 

The words of them songs hain't got hardly any sense, as we earthly bein'scount sense; there are scores of great singers, whose trained voices are ahundred-fold more melodious: but these simple strains move us, thrill us;they jest get right inside of our hearts and souls, and take fullpossession of us. 

It seems as if nothin' human of so little importance could so move us. Isit God's voice that speaks to us through them? Is it His Spirit that liftsus up, sways us to and fro, that blows upon us, as we listen to theirvoices? The Spirit that come down to cheer them broken hearts, lift themup in their captivity, does it now sway and melt the hearts of theircaptors? 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 amournful note; and we jest stood right in towards the shore, anddisembarked from the bark. 

We clomb the long hill, and stood on top, with powerful emotions (butlittle or no breath); stood before the iron bars that guarded the tomb ofGeorge Washington, and Martha his wife. 

I looked at the marble coffin that tried to hold George, and felt how vainit wuz to think that any tomb could hold him. That peaceful, tree-coveredhill couldn't hold his tomb. Why, it wuz lifted up in every land thatloved freedom. The hull liberty-lovin' earth wuz his tomb and hismonument. 

And that great river flowin' on and on at his feet--as long as that riverrolls, George Washington shall float on it, he and his faithful Martha. Itshall 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, butmy mind proudly soarin'! To think, he wuz our Washington, and that timecouldn'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 shallblossom into deeds, awaken souls, rouse powers that shall never die, thatshall scatter blessings over lands afar, strike the fetters from slave andserf. 

The hands they folded over his peaceful breast so many years ago, are notlying there in that marble coffin: the calm blue eyes closed so many yearsago, are still lookin' into souls. Those hands lift the low walls of thepoor 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 deedsof valor and heroism. How the calm blue eyes look down into the boy'simpassioned soul, how the shadowy hands beckon him upward, up the rockyheights of noble endeavor, noble deeds! How the inspiration of this life, these deeds of might and valor, nerve the young heart for future strivingsfor 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 wearybody may rest; but to do this, is surely not to die; no, it is to live, tobe 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 thestill landscape, the peaceful waters, this band of dark singers stood withreverent faces and uncovered heads, and begun singin' one of theirsweetest 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 inspiredme--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, tombshave opened, and the dead come forth alive; how Faith and Justice willtriumph in the end; how you can't bury 'em deep enough, or roll a stun bigenough and hard enough before the door, but what, in some calm mornin', the earliest watcher shall see a tall, fair angel standin' where the deadhas 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; butshe rose, she rose. 

I thought how the dusky race whose sweet songs was a floatin' round thegrave 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 ofyears, that Justice was dead, and Mercy and Pity and Righteousness. 

But there come a glorious mornin' when fathers and mothers clasped theirchildren 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, howthough they wuz buried deep, and the night wuz long, and the watchers bythe 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 themurdered, the legally murdered, lay buried. I thought of the graves morehopeless fur than them that entomb the dead, --the graves where lay thelivin' dead. Dead souls bound to still breathin' bodies, dead hopes, ambitions, dead dreams of usefulness and respectability, happiness, deadpurity, 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, buttwisted by the hard old fingers of blind habit, to chains of iron, chainslinked about, and eatin' into, not only the quiverin' flesh, but thefrenzied brains, the hope less hearts, the ruined souls. 

Heavy, hopeless-lookin' vaults they are indeed, whose air is putrid withthe sickenin' miasma of moral loathsomness and deseese; whose walls arepainted with hideous pictures of murder, rapine, lust, starvation, woe, and despair, earthly and eternal ruin. Shapes of the dreadful past, thehopeless future, that these livin' dead stare upon with broodin' frenzy bynight 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 theirhearts out on the rocky barriers that separate them from their hearts'love, their hearts' desire! How little starvin', naked children cower intheir ghostly shadows through dark midnights! How fathers weep for theirchildren, dead to them, dead to honor, to shame, to humanity! How thecries of the mourners ascend to the sweet heavens!

And less peaceful than the graves of the departed, these tombs themselvesare full of the hopeless cries of the entombed, praying for help, prayingfor 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 istread 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 willdawn at last. 

And the women, --daughters, wives, mothers, --who kneel with clasped handsbeside the tombs, heaviest-eyed, deepest mourners, because most helpless. Lift up your heavy eyes: the sun is even now rising, that shall gild thesky at last. The mornin' light is even now dawnin' in the east. It shallfall first upon your uplifted brows, your prayerful eyes. Most blessed ofGod, because you loved most, sorrowed most. To you shall it be given tobehold 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 theheavy doors, where your loved has lain. 

The dead shall rise. Temperance and Justice and Liberty shall rise. Theyshall go forth to bless our fair land. And purified and enobled, it shallbe the best beloved, the fairest land of God beneath the sun. Refuge ofthe oppressed and tempted, inspiration of the hopeless, light of theworld. 

And free mothers shall clasp their free children to their hearts; andfathers and mothers and children shall join in one heavenly strain, songof freedom and of truth. And the nations shall listen to hear how "theyrose, they rose, they rose from the dead. "

As the tones of the sweet hymn died on the soft air, and the blessedvision passed with it; when I come down onto my feet, --for truly, I hadbeen lifted up, and by the side of myself, --Cicely was standin' with herbrown eyes lookin' over the waters, holdin' the hand of the boy; and I seeevery 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 morningwus fur away--and--and the boy wus pullin' at her hand, eager to get awayfrom where he wus. 

The boy led us; and we follered him up the gradual hill to the oldhomestead of Washington, Mount Vernon. 

Lookin' down from the broad, high porch, you can look directly downthrough the trees into the river. The water calm and sort o' golden, through the green of the trees, and every thing looked peaceful andserene. 

There are lots of interestin' things to be seen here, --the tombs of therest of the Washington family; the key of the Bastile, covered with theblood and misery of a foreign land; the tree that carries us back inmemory to his grave, where he rests quietly, who disturbed the sleep ofempires and kingdoms; the furniture of Washington and his family, --thechairs 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, thegrounds, the live-stock, nor the pictures, nor the flowers. 

No: it wus the old garret of the mansion, the low old garret, where shesot, our Lady Washington, in her widowed dignity, with no other fire onlythe light of deathless love that lights palace or hovel, --sot there in thewindow, because she could look out from it upon the tomb of her mightydead. 

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 shethought of happy days gone by; for though souls may soar, hearts willcling. And sometimes storms would vex the river's unquiet breast; andmebby the waves would whisper to her lovin' heart, "Never more, nevermore. "

[Illustration: THE OLD HOME OF WASHINGTON. ]

As she sot there looking out, waiting for that other river, whose wavescrept nearer and nearer to her feet, --that other river, on which her soulshould sail away to meet her glorious dead; that river which whispers"Forever, forever;" that river which is never unquiet, and whose waves aremurmuring of nothing less beautiful than of meeting, of love, and oflasting repose. 

CHAPTER X. 

When we got back from Mount Vernon, and entered our boardin'-house, Cicelywent right up to her room. But I, feelin' kinder beat out (eloquentemotions are very tuckerin' on a tower), thought I would set down a fewminutes 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 nobreath. 

For, while I was a settin' there, a tall, sepulchral lookin' female, thatI 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 eloquentJosiah 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 fewdays. "

"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 toinvestigate into truths, I thought mebby you would love to come, andwitness some of our glorious spirit manifestations. "

I thanked her for her kindness, but told her "I guessed I wouldn't go. Ididn't seem to be sufferin' for a seancy. "

"Oh!" says she: "it is wonderful, wonderful to see. Why, we will tie themedium up, and he will ontie himself. "

"Oh!" says I. "I have seen that done, time and agin. I used to tie ThomasJ. Up when he was little, and naughty; and he would, in spite of me, ontiehimself, 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 arefavorable, 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 sofavorable, and he didn't seem to appear so much, after his father ketchedhim at it, and give him a good whippin'. " And says I firmly, "I guess thatwould be about the way with your ghosts. "

And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o' pitiful, --togo to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my remark, for sheseemed 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 talkwith '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 havetook me round to such a extent, that it has got all frayed out round thebottom, and I have got to mend the fray. But, if any of my kindred arethere, you jest mention it to 'em that she that wuz Samantha Smith isstopped at No. 16, and, if perfectly convenient, would love to see 'em. Ican explain it to 'em, " says I, "bein' all in the family, why I couldn'tleave my room. "

[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON S GHOST. ]

Says she, "You are makin' fun: you don't believe they will be there, doyou?"

"Wall, to be honest with you, it looks dubersome to me. It does seem tome, that if my father or mother sot out from the other world, and comedown to this boardin'-house, to No. 17, they would know, without havin' tobe told, that I was in the next room to 'em; and they wouldn't want tostay with a passel of indifferent strangers, when their own child was sonear. "

"You don't believe in the glorious manifestations of our seansys?" saysshe. 

"Wall, to tell you the plain truth, I don't seem to believe 'em to anygreat extent. I believe, if God wants to speak to a human soul below, Hecan, without any of your performances and foolishness; and when I sayperformences 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 everreveals himself to man?"

"Yes, I do! I believe that now, as in the past, the pure in heart shallsee 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 theother world, who can look in, and behold its beauty. Why, it hain't but alittle ways from here, --it can't be, sense a breath of air will blow usinto it. It takes sights of preparation to get ready to go, but it is onlya 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 withtheir faces lit up with the glow of the light shinin' from some one of themany mansions, --the dear home-light of the fatherland; died speakin' tosome 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 somuch an evenin'. "

"I thought, " says she bitterly, "that you was one who never condemned anything that you hadn't thoroughly investigated. "

"I don't, " says I. "I don't condemn nothin' nor nobody. I only tell mymind. I don't say there hain't no truth in it, because I don't know; andthat is one of the best reasons in the world for not sayin' a thing hain'tso. When you think how big a country the land of Truth is, and how manygreat unexplored regions lay in it, why should Josiah Allen's wife standand lean up aginst a tree on the outmost edge of the frontier, and saywhat duz and what duzn't lay hid in them mysterius and beautiful regionsthat happier eyes than hern shall yet look into?

"No: the great future is the fulfillment of the prophecies, and blindgropin's of the present; and it is not for me, nor Josiah, nor anybodyelse, 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 aclose acquaintance with the gentleman named, as some do, who profess toknow all his little social eccentricities. But I simply say, and sayhonest, that I hain't felt no drawin's towards seancys, nor felt likefollerin' 'em up. But I am perfectly willin' you should have your ownidees, 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 abox-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 Iever heard on, has been harnessed and tackled up with any ropes or stringswhatsoever. No! whenever we hear of angels appearin' to men, they haveflown down, white-winged and radiant, right out of the heavens, which istheir home, and appeared to men, entirely unbeknown to them. That is theway they appeared to the shephards at Bethlahem, to the disciples on themountain, 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 knowof, where it says they shall never appear agin to man. But I s'pose, inthe days I speak of, when the One Pure Heart was upon earth, Earth andHeaven drew nearer together, as it were, --the divine and the human. And ifwe now draw Heaven nearer to us by better, purer lives, who knows, " says Idreamily (forgettin' the mejum, and other trials), "who knows but what wemight, in some fair day, look up into the still heavens, and see throughthe clear blue, in the distance, a glimpse of the beautiful city of theredeemed?

"Who knows, " says I, "if we lived for Heaven, as Jennie Dark lived for hercountry, 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 aseansy 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 andtelefone and electric light, and many other seemin'ly supernatural works. And who knows but there may still be some hidden powers in nature that isthe 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 lookreasonable to me, that He, the mighty King of heaven and earth, wouldspeak to His children through a senseless Indian jargon, or impossible andblasphemous 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 thatmanner. 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, andAdam was alone, then he heard God's voice. He didn't have to wait forfavorable 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 soulin comfort and in prophecy, and her eyes was opened, and she saw watersflowin' in the midst of the desert. 

"Up on the mountain top, God's voice spoke to Abraham; and Lot in thequiet of evening, at the tent's door, received the angelic visitants. Sudden, unbeknown to them, they come. They didn't have to put nobody intoa 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, rapso many times. ' No: she knew the voice. God prepares the listenin' soulHis 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 theone in shinin' raiment. No: the angel guest came down from heavenunbidden, and appeared to Daniel alone, in peril; and as he stood by the'great river, ' it said, 'Be strong, be strong!' preparin' him forconflict. And Daniel was strengthened, so the Bible says. 

"God's hand is not weaker to-day, and His conflicts are bein' waged onmany a battle-field. And I dare not say that He does not send His angelsto comfort and sustain them who from love to Him go out into rightouswarfare. 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, byseein' a materialized rag-baby hung out by a wire in front of a hemlockbox, 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 byliftin' up some table-legs. ' And they didn't have to tie a mejum into abox before they could hear God's voice. No: we read in the Bible of eightdifferent ones who come back from death, and appeared to their friends, besides the many who came forth from their graves at Jerusalem. But theydidn't none of 'em come in this way from round under tables, and out oflittle coops, and etcetery. 

"And as it was in the old days, so I believe it is to-day. I believe, ifGod 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 thinkHe _has_ to employ such means. And it don't look reasonable to me tothink, if He wants to speak to one of His children in comfort orconsolation, He will try to drive a hard bargain with 'em, and make 'empay 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 UnitedStates. It has a noble, martyrous look to me, " says I firmly. "It makes methink of my errent. "

She tosted her head in a high-headed way, which is gaulin' in the extremeto 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. ButI don't have any faith in modern spiritual seansys. They seem to me, --andI would say it in a polite, courtous way, for I wouldn't hurt yourfeelin'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 actedmad, 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 isa 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 appearif he should tie himself up in a box? And if I would be sorry if his papadidn't appear, if he didn't appear? And where the folks went to that Isaid, come out of their graves? And did they die again? Or did they keepon a livin' and a livin' and a livin'? And if I wished I could keep on alivin' 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 hiseyes, and says he, --

"_Say_! if the dead live men's little boys that had grown up andlived and died before their pa's come out, would they come out too? andwould 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 ammountof thinkin' and medetatin'. Mebby right when I would be a talkin' and asmilin' to folks about the weather or literatoor or any thing, my mindwould be hard at work on problems, and I would be a takin' silentobservations, and musin' on what my eyes beheld. 

[Illustration: "SAY!"]

And I had felt more and more satisfied of the wisdom of the conclusion Ireached on my first interview with Allen Arthur, --that I dast not, I dastnot 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; andafter I had looked round me, and observed persons and things, I felt thathe 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 deepthought as to the special fitness of uncle Nate Gowdy and Ury Henzy forgovernmental positions. And after I had enquired round a little, andconsidered the heft of his mind, and the weight of example, I felt hewould do it. 

And I _dast_ not let him go. 

And, though I knew his hand was middlin' free now, still I realized thatother hands just as free once had had rings slipped into 'em, and was ledby '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 ahundred, --bones, moral sentiments, and all), was pretty sound and firm, the most of the time. But the powerful winds that blew through them broadstreets of Washington from every side, and from the outside, and from theunder 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 fearfulthought hanted me, --mebby he would be willin' to sell; and, the more Ilooked 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 withCicely, the boy not bein' up. I was settin' to the table as calm and coolas my toast (which was _very_ cool), when the hired man brought me aletter; and I opened it right there, for I see by the post-mark it wasfrom my Josiah. And I read as follers, in dismay and anguish, for Ithought 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 aundun Josire. Tung kant xpres mi yernin to see u. I kant tak no kumfortlookin at ure kam fisiognimy in ure fotogrof, it maks mi hart ake, u lukso 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), andhastened 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 linenhandkerchief, I give vent to some moans of anguish, and a large number ofsithes. 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 muststart 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 saysas I did so, --

"He has had too much strain on his mind, for the size of it. His planshave been too deep. He has grappled with too many public questions. Iortn'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 ofthe 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 andother vittles, I felt that he would re_cog_nise them. 

But by this time Cicely had got the letter read through; and she said "hewuzn't crazy, it was the new-fashioned way of spelling;" she said she hadseen 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 Lovedraws me, a willin' captive, to the side of my sufferin' Josiah. I shallgo home on that creek. " Says I, "Woman's first duty is to the man sheloves. " Says I, "I come here on that duty, and on that duty I shall goback, and the creek. "

Cicely didn't feel as if she could go the next day, for there was to be agreat meetin' of the friends of temperance, in a few days, there; and shewanted to attend to it; she wanted to help all she could; and then, therewus a person high in influence that she wanted to converse with on thesubject. That good little thing was willin' to do _any thing_ for thesake of the boy and the Right. 

But I says to her, "I _must_ go, for that word 'plan' worrys me; itworrys 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 onin 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 thenew 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, andin the other I took filosify and fotograf; and as I hefted 'em, I see thelatter was easier to carry. I see they would make our language easier tolearn by children and foreigners; it would lop off a lot of silent lettersof 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 tothe old way. But I don't feel so, though I love the old things with a lovethat makes my heart ache sometimes when changes come. But my reason tellsme 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 oxonto a wagon, and ridin' after it. And our old 4 mothers liked the idee ofbein' perched up on a pillion behind the old 4 fathers. I s'pose theyhated the idee of gettin' off of that pillion, and onhitchin' that ox. Butthey had to, they had to get down, and get up into phaetons and railwaycars, and steamboats. 

And I s'pose them old 4 people (likely creeters they wuz too) hated theidee of usin' matches; used to love to strike fire with a flint, andtrample off a mild to a neighber's on January mornin's (and their mornin'swas _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 togive it up, thought it would be lonesome. But they had to; and the flintdidn't care, it knew matches was better. The calm, everlasting forces ofNature don't murmur or rebel when they are changed for newer, greaterhelps. 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, orwhether 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 usout of the way. The old things now, are the new ones of the past; and whatseems new to us, will soon be the old. 

Why, how long does it seem, only a minute, since we was a buildin' mosshouses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse? Beautiful, freshrooms, carpeted with the green moss, with bright young faces bendin' downover 'em. Where are they now? The dust of how many years--I don't want tothink how many--has sifted down over them velvet-carpeted mansions, turnedthem 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 thatshall at last lay over all our heads. And Louis! Bright blue eyes theremay be to-day, old Time, but none truer and tenderer than his. But longago, oh! long ago, the dust covered you--the dust that is older than thepyramids, old, and yet new; for on some mysterious breeze it was wafted toyou, it drifted down, and covered the blue eyes and the brown eyes, hidthe bright faces forever. 

And the years have sprinkled down into Charley's grave business headtiresome dust of dividends and railway shares. Kate and Janet, and Willand Helen and Harry--where are you all to-day, I wonder? But though I donot know that, I do know this, --that Time has not stood still with any ofyou. The years have moved you along, hustled you forward, as they sweptby. You have had to move along, and let other bright faces stand in frontof you. 

You are all buildin' houses to-day that you think are more endurin'. Butwhat you build to-day--hopes built upon worldly wealth, worldly fame, household affection, political success--ah I will they not pass away likethe green moss houses down in the woods back of the old schoolhouse?

Yes, they, too, will pass away, so utterly that only their dust willremain. But God grant that we may all meet, happy children again, youngwith the new life of the immortals, on some happy playground of theheavenly life!

But poor little houses of moss and cedar boughs, you are broken down yearsand years ago, trampled down into dust, and the dust blown away by therushin' 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 Ikinder 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 offolks are older. Why, there is uncle Nate Gowdey, and aunt Seeny: they areas old agin, almost. "

[Illustration: THE OLD SCHOOLHOUSE]

Says I, "That is a great comfort to meditate on, Josiah; but it don't takeaway all the sting of growin' old. "

And he said "he didn't care a dumb about it, if he didn't have to work sohard. " 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'sreal fractious on that subject, caused, I think, by rheumatiz, and mebbythe 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 areonly wrappers for the soul: the real, person is within. But then, youknow, you get sort o' attached to your own body, yourself, you know, ifyou have lived with yourself any length of time, as we have, a good manyof 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 andwhite; and they are your own too, which makes 'em nearer to you; they havedone sights for you, and you can't help likin' 'em. And your mouth lookssort o' agreable and natural to you. 

You don't really like to see the dimpled, soft hands change into an olderperson's hands; you kinder hate to change the face for an older, morecare-worn face; you get sick of lookin'-glasses. 

And sometimes you feel a sort of a homesick longin' for your old self--forthe bright, eager face that looked back to you from the old lookin'-glasson summer mornin's, when the winder was open out into the orchard, and theMay birds was singin' amidst the apple-blows. The red lips parted with ahappy 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 whichthe glowin' face was sure of, on that spring morning with the May birdssingin' outside, and the May birds singin' inside. 

[Illustration: A MAY MORNING. ]

Time may have brought you somethin' better--better than you dreamed of onthat summer mornin'. But it is different, anyhow; and you can't helpgettin' 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 backour 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; andour 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 tonothin' only wastin' our breath. His scythe is one that don't need anygrindstun, and his swath is one that must be cut. 

No! Time won't lean up aginst fence corners, and wipe his brow on abandanna, and hang round. He jest moves right on--up and down, up anddown. On each side of us the ripe blades fall, and the flowers; and prettysoon the swath will come right towards us, the grass-blades will fallnearer and nearer--a turn of the gleamin' scythe, and we, too, will begone. The sunlight will rest on the turf where our shadows were, and oneblade of grass will be missed out of that broad harvest-field more than wewill be, when a few short years have rolled by. 

The beauty and the clamor of life will go on without us. You see, wehain't needed so much as we in our egotism think we are. The world willget along without us, while we rest in peace. 

But until then we have got to move along: we can't set down anywhere, andset there. No: if we want to be fore mothers and fore fathers, we mustn'tset still: we must give the babies a chance to be fore mothers and forefathers 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 thewinter follows the autumn, and the years go by! And the clouds sail onthrough the sky, and the shadows follow each other over the grass, and thegrass fadeth. 

And the sun moves down the west, and the twilight follows the sun, and atlast the night comes--and then the stars shine. 

Strange that all this long revery of my mind should spring from thatletter of my pardner's. But so it is. Why, I sot probable 3 fourths of ahour--entirely by the side of myself. Why, I shouldn't have sensed whetherI 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 ofSarah. Why, I shouldn't have sensed Sarah or A. Minor at all, if they hadstood 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 intobed, and it probable took me 1/2 an hour to comb out my hair and wad itup, and ondress), I rousted up out of my revery, and realized I was JosiahAllen's wife on a tower of Principle and Discovery. I realized I was aforerunner, and on the eve of return to the bosom of my family (a linenbosom, 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 severaltimes, 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 anypay for so short a board. But I knew, in her condition, boards of anylength should be paid for. So I insisted, and the board was paid for. Ialso rewarded Bub Smith for his efforts at doin' my errents, in a way thatmade his blushes melt into a glowin' background of joyousness. 

And then, havin' asked the hired man to get a covered carriage to conveymy 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 andanxiety is over. Soon, soon will you be with your beloved pardner athome. "

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 lookedgood to me. There was one man upbraidin' his wife about some domesticmatter, with crossness in his tone, but affectionate care and interest inhis mean. Oh, how good, and sort o' natural, he did look to me! it almostseemed as if my Josiah was there by my side. 

Never, never, does the cords of love fairly pull at your heart-strings, adrawin' you along towards your heart's home, your heart's desire, as whenyou have been off a movin' round on a tower. I longed for my dear home, Iyearned for my Josiah. 

I arrove at Jonesville as night was a lettin' down her cloudy mantillyfringed 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 themair, to convey my body home. He wus stirred to the very depths of hisheart to see me agin; but he struggled for calmness, and told me in avoice controlled by his firm will, to "hurry and get in, for the mair wusoneasy 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'tget in at all. "

"Wall, wall! hain't I a holdin' it? Jump in: there is a team behind awaitin'. "

After these little interchanges of thought and affection, there wassilence between us. Truly, there is happiness enough in bein' once more bythe side of the one you love, whether you speak or not. And, to tell thetruth, I was out of breath hurryin' so. But few words were interchangeduntil 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 andvegitables of all kinds, and various warm cakes and pastries, compromiseddown to plans of tender steak, mashed potatoes, cream biscuit, lemoncustard, and coffee. It wus settled in peace and calmness. He lookedunstrung, very unstrung, and wan, considerable wan. But I knew that I andthe supper could string him up agin; and I felt that I would not speak ofthe plan or the creek, or any agitatin' subject, until the supper wasover, which resolve I follered. After the table was cleared, and Josiahlooked like a new man, --the girl bein' out in the kitchen washin' thedishes, --I mentioned the creek; and he owned up that he didn't know as itwas exactly a creek, but "it was a dumb pain, anyway, and he felt that hemust see me. "

It is sweet, passing sweet, to be missed, to be necessary to the happinessof one you love. But, at the same time, it is bitter to know that yourpardner has prevaricated to you, and so the sweet and the bitter is mixedall 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, andpresented it to him. I wanted to find out the heights and depths of thatPlan 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 lookedas if he would sink. And at first he tried to move off the subject, but Iwouldn't let him. I held him up firm to that plan, and, to use a poeticalimage, I hitched him there. 

Says I, "You know what you told me, Josiah, --you said that plan would makeyou beloved and revered. "

He groaned. 

Says I, "You know you said it would make you a lion, and me a lioness: doyou 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 cometo 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 Ineedn'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 agitatedand 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 wentthrough 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 neverwould tackle the job agin. He begun to make a poem when we was firstmarried; but there wuzn't no great harm done, for he had only wrote twolines when I found it out and broke it up. 

Bein' jest married, I had a good deal of influence over him; and hepromised me sacred, to never, _never_, as long as he lived andbreathed, try to write another line of poetry agin. We was married in thespring, 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 torhyme. And then was the time, then and there, that I made him promise onthe Old Testament, _never_ to try to write a line of poetry agin. AndI felt that he _could_ not do himself and me the bitter wrong to tryit agin, and still I trembled. 

And right while I was tremblin', he returned, and silently laid "TheGimlet" 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, wasthis: "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 afightin'? What path-master have you been on?"

"I hain't been on any, " says he sadly, out from under his hand. "I headedit 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 (neverhavin' had 'em, I didn't know exactly what the symptoms was), and I feltdredfully. But anon, or pretty nigh anon, I grew calmer, and opened thepaper, and read. It seemed to be in answer to the men who had nominatedhim for path-master, and it read as follers:--

JOSIAH ALLEN ON A PATH-MASTER. 

Feller Constituents and Male Men of Jonesville and the surroundin' andadjacent worlds!

I thank you, fellow and male citizents, I thank you heartily, and from thedepths of my bein', for the honor you have heaped onto me, in pintin' mepath-master. 

But I feel it to be my duty to decline it. I feel that I must keepentirely out of political matters, and that I cannot be induced to bepath-master, or President, or even United-States senator. I have not gotthe 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 ambilious, am troubled with rheumatiz and colic, my blood don't circulateproper, I have got a weak back, and lumbago, and biles. And I hain't a bitwell. 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 performabout, nearer and more sacred duties, that I dast not put aside for anyothers. 

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 feelthat it is my first duty to make that home the brightest spot on earth toher. That home is my dearest and most sacred treasure. And how can Idisturb its sweet peace with the wild turmoil of politics? I can not. Idast 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. Idon'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 oathsafterwards. Twice I thought of 'em right in prayer-meetin' time, and itworrys me. 

I have to see drinkin' goin' on. I don't want to drink; but they offer totreat me, old friends do, and Samantha is afraid I shall yield to thetemptation; and I am most afraid of it myself. 

Yes, politics is dangerous and hardenin'; and, should I enter into thewild 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 notimperil her peace, and mine, by the effort. 

I can not, I dast not, put aside these sacred duties that Providence haslaid upon me. My wive's happiness is the first thing I must consider. CanI leave her lonely and unhappy while I plunge into the wild turmoil ofcaurkusses 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 andhappiness of my Samantha. No, I dassent vote, I dassent another time. 

Again, another reason. I have a little grandchild growin' up around me. Iowe a duty to her. I must dandle her on my knee. I must teach her the pathof virtue and happiness. If I do not, who will? For though there areplenty to make laws, and to vote, little Samantha Joe has but one grandpaon her mother's side. 

And then, I have sights of cares. The Methodist church is to be kep' up: Iam 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 amschool-trustee: I have to grapple with the deestrict every spring andfall. The teachers are high-headed, the parents always dissatisfied, andthe 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 rendsmy mind with cares. 

The care of providin' for my family wears onto me; for though Samanthatends to things on the inside of the house, I have to tend to thingsoutside, and I have to provide the food she cooks. 

And then, I have a great deal of work to do. Besides my barn-chores, andall the wearin' cares I have mentioned, I have five acres of potatoes tohoe and dig, a barn to shingle, a pig-pen to new cover, a smoke-house tofix, a bed of beets and a bed of turnips to dig, --ruty bagys, --and fourbig beds of onions to weed--dumb 'em! and six acres of corn to husk. Mybarn-floor at this time is nearly covered with stooks. How dare I leave mybarn in confusion, and, by my disorderly doin's, run the risk of my wive'sbein' so disgusted with my want of neatness and shiftlessness, as to causeher to get dissatisfied with home and husband, and wander off into pathsof dissipation and vice? Oh! I dassent, I dassent, take the resk! When Ithink of all the terrible evils that are liable to come onto me, I feelthat I dassent vote agin, as long as I live and breathe--I dast not haveany thing whatever to do with politics. 

FINY. THE END. 

I read it all out loud, every word of it, interrupted now and then, andsometimes oftener, by the groans of my pardner. And as I finished, Ilooked round at him, and I see his looks was dretful. And I says insoothin' tones--for oh! how a companion's distress calls up the tenderfeelin's of a lovin' female pardner!

Says I, "It hain't the worst piece in the world, Josiah Allen! It is assensible 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 beena burden to me ever sense that appeared in 'The Gimlet. ' Tongue can't tellthe 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 saysI, --

"Now, if you are more composed and gathered together, will you tell yourcompanion 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 Iwould branch off, and take a new turn, and not act so fierce and wolfishafter office as most of 'em did. I thought I would get up something newand uneek. "

"Wall, you have, uneeker than you probable ever will agin. But, if youwanted to be a senator, _why_ did you refuse to have any thing to dowith 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 thoughtafter 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, andthat 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 forschool-trustee, and it jest lifted her right up. She never had beenthought any thing off in Jonesville till she wrote that, and that was themakin' of her. And she hadn't half the reason to write it that I have. Shehadn'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 shelived 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, whatright feelin', what delicacy, what a noble, heart-stirrin', masterlydocument hern was! And I hankered, I jest hankered, after bein' praised upas she was. And I thought, " says he with a deep sithe, "I thought I shouldget as much agin praise as she did. I thought I should be twice aspopuler, because it wus sunthin' new for a _man_ to write such aarticle. I thought I should be all the rage in Jonesville. I thought Ishould 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 themJonesvillians 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' meall 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 liftedLetitia Lanfear right up, didn't lift me up. Hain't what's sass for thegoose, sass for the gander?"

"No, " says I sadly. "It hain't the same sass. The geese have to get thesame strength from it, --strength to swim in the same water, fly over thesame fences, from the same pursuers and avengers; and they have to growthe 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 generalthing, has as much time as a woman has. And I'd love to see the time thatI 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 asmuch 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 ourspare time a studyin' into matters, so as to vote intelligently; studyinto the laws that govern us both, --that hang us if we break 'em, andprotect us if we obey 'em, --than to spend it a whittling shingles, orwonderin' 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 oldman, --

"Did you write that article _jest_ for the speech of people? Didn'tyou 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, nota darn principle. I wrote it jest for popularity, and to make 'em fierceto 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 understandnow, 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 istoo 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 sithedout, --

"I pinned my faith onto Letitia, and it has ondone me;" and he kinderwhimpered. 

But I says firmly, but gently, --

"You will hear to your companion another time, will you not? and pin yourfaith onto truth and justice and right?"

"No, I won't. I won't pin it onto nothin' nor nobody. I'm done withpolitics from this day. "

And bad as we both felt, this last speech of hisen made a glimmer of lightstreak up, and shine into my future. Some like heat lightenin' on summerevenin's. It hain't so much enjoyment at the time, but you know it isgoin' to clear the cloudy air of the to-morrow. And so its light is sweetto you, though very curious, and crinkley. 

And as mournful and sort o' curious as this time seemed to me and toJosiah, yet this speech of hisen made me know that all private and publicperil connected with Hon. Josiah Allen was forever past away. And thatthought cast a rosy glow onto my to-morrows. 

CHAPTER XI. 

I found, on lookin' round the house the next mornin', that Philury hadkep' things in quite good shape. Although truly the buttery looked like alonesome desert, and the cubbards like empty tents the Arabs had leftdesolate. 

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 changedher mind about long engagements. "

And while I wus a makin' the cookies, she broached it to me that "she andUry was goin' to be married the next week. "

I wus agreable to the idee, and told her so. I like 'em both. Ury is atall, limber-jinted sort of a chap, sandy complected, and a little roundshouldered, but hard-workin' and industrious, and seems to take ainterest. 

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 housestronger than gum. He used that, I have thought sometimes, more than wuzfor his good. And I thought it must be expensive, he consumed suchquantities of it. But he told me he made it himself out of beeswax androzum. 

And I told Josiah that I shouldn't say no more about it; because, althoughit might be a foolish habit, gum was not what you might call inebriatin';it was not a intoxicatin' beverage, and didn't endanger the publicksafety. So he kep' on a chawin' it, to home and abroad. He kep' at it allday, and at night if he felt lonesome. 

I had mistrusted this, because I found a great chunk now and then on thehead-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 somuch, 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; andthough she can't be said to resemble it in every particular, yet I nevercould 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, Is'pose, do jest what you tell her to, --as near as she can; and she isthought a good deal of. 

Wall, she has liked Ury for some time--that has been plain to see: shethought her eyes of him, and he of her. He has got eight or nine hundreddollars laid up; and I thought it was well enough for 'em to marry if theywanted to, and so I told Josiah the first time he come into the house thatforenoon. 

And he said "he guessed our thinkin' about it wouldn't alter it much, oneway or the other. "

And I said "I s'posed not. " But says I, "I spoke out, because I feel quitewell about it. I like 'em both, and think they'll make a happy couple: andto 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 youknow there has been such a hardness between 'em about that grindstun. SoI'll have it here, get a good supper, and have 'em married offrespectable. "

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 'emto do well: now, what do good wishes ammount to, unless you are willin' toback 'em up with good acts?" Says I, "I might say that I wished 'em welland happy, and that would be only a small expendature of wind, thatwouldn't be no loss to me, and no petickuler help to them. But if I showmy good will towards 'em by stirrin' up fruit-cakes and bride-cake, andpickin' chickens, and pressin' 'em, and makin' ice-cream and coffee andsandwitches, 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 alittle 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 Iwill get dinner. "

So he did, and I did, and he never made no further objections to myenterprise; 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 comeback here, if she wanted to, and get some quiltin' done, and get ready forhousekeepin'. She was tickled enough with the idee, and said she wouldhelp me enough to pay for her board. Ury's time wouldn't be out till abouta month later. 

I told her she needn't work any for me. But she is a dretful handy littlething about the house, or outdoors. When Josiah was sick, and when thehired man happened to be away, she would go right out to the barn, andfodder the cattle jest as well as a man could. And Josiah said she milkedfaster than he could, to save his life. Her father had nine girls and noboys; and he brought some of the girls up when they was little, kinderboy-like, and they knew all about outdoor work. 

Wall, it was all decided on, that they should come right back here jest assoon as they ended their tower. They was a goin' to Ury's sister's, MissReuben Henzy's, and laid out to be gone about four days, or from four daysto a week. 

And I went to cookin' for the weddin' about a week before it took place. Ithought I would invite the minister and his wife and family, and Philury'ssister-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 twelveof 'em, --and our children and their families. And I asked Miss Gowdey'sesfolks, but didn't expect they would come, owin' to that hardness about thegrindstun. But everybody else come that was invited; and though I am farfrom bein' the one that ort to say it, the supper was successful. It wascalled "excellent" by the voice, and the far deeper language ofconsumption. 

They all seemed to enjoy it: and Ury took out his gum, and put it underthe table-leaf before he begun to eat; and I found it there afterwards. Hewas 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 warmbrown, --a color that kinder set off her freckles. It was woosted, andtrimmed 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 ayellow tarleton, trimmed with red. And she was jest that obleegin', clevercreeter, 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 ismarried, besides lookin' like fury now?" Says I, "Get a good, sensibledress, that will do some good after marriage, besides lookin' good now. "Says I, "Marriage hain't exactly in real life like what it is depicteredin 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 thatliterature--if you didn't really have nothin' to do in the future, only toset on a rainbow, and eat honey, why, then, a yaller tarleton dress withred trimmin's would be jest the thing to wear. But, " says I, "you willfind yourself in the same old world, with the same old dishcloths andwipin'-towels and mops a waitin' for you to grasp, with the same pair ofhands. You will have to konfront brooms and wash-tubs and darnin'-needlesand socks, and etcetery, etcetery. And you must prepare yourself for theenkounter. "

She heerd to me; and that very day, after we had the talk, I took her toJonesville, drivin' the old mare myself, and stood by her while she pickedit out. 

And thinkin' she was young and pretty, and would want somethin' gay andbright, I bought some flannel for a mornin'-dress for her, and give it toher for a present. It was a pretty, soft gray and pink, in stripes abouthalf a inch wide, and would be pretty for her for years, to wear in thehouse, 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 sameoccasion, --two fine shirts, and two pair of socks, with gray toes andheels, 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, goodand stout, and very nice lookin'. And, knowin' she hadn't no mother to dofor her, I gave her a pair of feather pillows and a bed-quilt, --one that aaunt of mine had pieced up for me. It was a blazin' star, a bright red andyeller, and it had always sort o' dazzled me. 

Ury worshiped it. I had kept it on his bed ever sense I knew what feelin'she had for it. He had said "that he didn't see how any thing so beautifulcould be made out of earthly cloth. " And I thought now was my time to partwith it. 

Wall, they had lots of good presents. I had advised the children, and theSunday-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 sonourishin' as some other things. And there will probable rise in theirfuture life contingencies where a painted match-box, and a hair-pinreceiver, and a card-case, will have no power to charm. Even china vasesand toilet-sets, although estimable, will not bring up a large family, andeducate them, especially for the ministry. "

I s'pose I convinced 'em; for, as I heerd afterwards, the class had raisedfifty cents apiece to get perforated paper, woosted yarn, and crystalbeads. But they took it, and got her a set of solid silver teaspoons: thestore-keeper threw off a dollar or two for the occasion. They was goodteaspoons. 

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 moneyto buy 'em a set of chairs and a extension table; and a rich uncle ofhisen sent him the money for a ingrain carpet; and a rich uncle of hern inthe Ohio sent her the money for a bedroom set, --thirty-two dollars, withthe 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, sofolks 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 ayearlin' calf, and calf it must be. But he said "he would give in to me sofur, that, seein' I wanted to make such a show, if I said so, he wouldtake 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 onething. 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 shewas asked if she would have Ury, she curchied, and said, "Yes, if youplease, " jest as if Ury was roast veal or mutton, and the minister was apassin' 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 sotout 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 alittle longer, to help me do up the work; and finally they went. And Iwent up into the spare chamber, and sort o' fixed Philury's things to thebest advantage; for I knew the neighbors would be in to look at 'em. And Iwas a standin' there as calm and happy as the buro or table, --and theylooked very light and cheerful, --when all of a sudden the door opened, andin 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 sosmut 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 andcurious. 

"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 yoube. "

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 anduneek. "

And as he see my strange and awful looks, he continued, "You know, youalways say that you want a change now and then, and somethin' new, to passaway time. "

"And I shall most probable get it, " says I, groanin', "as long as I livewith you. Now tell me at once, what you have done, Josiah Allen! I know itis your doin's. "

"Yes, " says he proudly, "yes, mom. Ury never would have thought of it, orPhilury. I got it up myself, out of my own head. It is original, and Iwant the credit of it all myself. "

Says I faintly, "I guess you won't be troubled about gettin' a patent forit. " 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. Philurysaid she would love to go and see her sister in Buffalo; and Ury, ofcourse, 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 shegot back, he should go to Rochester, and see his folks. I told her that Ineeded Ury's help, and she could jest as well go alone as not, after wegot her ticket. And then in a week or so, when she had got her visit madeout, she could come back, and help do the chores, and tend to things, andUry could go. Ury hung back at first. But she smiled, and said she woulddo 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 doneany 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 runafter 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'ttry 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 belyin' about something else. "

"O Josiah Allen!" says I. "Don't ever try to do any thing, or say anything, 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'ta 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 poorlittle freckled thing way off there alone!"

"That poor little freckled thing is with her folks by this time, as happyas a king. " But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun to feelbad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but he tried tokeep 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 somepotatoes and meat!"

And then he started out; and I went down, and got a good supper, but Isithed and groaned powerful and frequent. 

Philury got home safely from her bridal tower, lookin' clever, butconsiderable lonesome. 

Truly, men are handy on many occasions, and in no place do they seem moreuseful and necessary than on a weddin' tower. 

Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah wouldwhisper to me every chance he got, --

"That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and therewuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower. " Josiah always stands upfor his sect. 

And I would answer him every time, --

"That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together, likehuman bein's. "

And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' aboutthe milkin'. _There was where the shoe pinched_. 

Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back fromWashington. 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. Shehad been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done everything she could with her influence and her money. She was willin' to spendher 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 wasasleep. 

She had took off her heavy mournin'-dress, covered with crape, and put ona pretty white loose dress; and she laid her head down in my lap, and Ismoothed her shinin' hair, and says to her, --

"You are all tired out to-night, Cicely: you'll feel better in themornin'. "

But she didn't: she was sick in bed the next day, and for two or threedays. 

And it was arranged, that, jest as quick as she got well enough to go, Iwas to go with her to see the executor, to see if we couldn't make himchange his mind. It was only half a day's ride on the cars, and I'd gofurther to please her. 

But she was sick for most a week. And the boy meant to be good. He wantedto be, and I know it. 

But though he was such a sweet disposition, and easy to mind, he wasdretful easy led away by temptation, and other boys. 

Now, Cicely had told him that he _must not_ go a fishin' in the creekback of the house, there was such deep places in it; and he must not gothere till he got older. 

And he would _mean_ to mind, I would know it by his looks. He wouldlook good and promise. But mebby in a hour's time little Let Peedick wouldstroll 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 asgood-natured as you ever see. 

Why, once he come in with his pretty brown curls all wet, and his littleshirt on wrong side out. 

He was kinder whistlin', and tryin' to act indifferent and innocent. Andwhen his mother questioned him about it, he said, --

"He had drinked so much water, that it had soaked through somehow to hishair. And he turned his shirt gettin' over the fence. And we might ask LetPeedick if it wuzn't so. "

We could hear Letty a whistlin' out to the barn, and we knew he stoodready 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 feelreal bad, he would ask her forgiveness jest as sweet; and I knew he meantto do jest right, and mebby he would for as much as an hour, or till sometemptation come along--or boy. 

But the good-tempered easiness to be led astray made Cicely feel likedeath: she had seen it in another; she see it was a inherited trait. Andshe could see jest how hard it was goin' to make his future: she would tryher best to break him of it. But how, how was she goin' to do it, withthem 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 inour eyes. 

But as I said, he was a child that had his spells. Sometimes he would bevery truthful and honest, --most too much so. That was when he had his sorto' dreamy spells. 

[Illustration: THE BOY'S EXPLANATION. ]

I know one day, she that wus Kezier Lum come here a visitin'. She ismiddlin' old, and dretful humbly. 

Paul sot and looked at her face for a long time, with that sort of adreamy 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 sohomely. "

[Illustration: SHE THAT WUS KEZIER LUM. ]

I riz up, and led him out of the room quick, and told him "never to talkso 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 totell 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 Ideclare, 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 inthe course of our conversation, that "she thought Cicely was too much tookup on the subject of intemperance, and some folks said she was crazy onthe subject. "

Kezier was always a high-headed sort of a woman, without a nerve in herbody. I don't believe her teeth has got nerves; though I wouldn't want toswear 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 theywus workin' for truth and right. And if the old possles stood it, to becalled 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, " saysI, "to s'posen the case, --s'posen the one we loved best in the world, yourEbineezer, or my Josiah, should have been ruined, and led into murder, bydrinkin' milk, don't you believe we should have been sort o' crazy everafterwards 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 hadsot out to, her awful anxiety about the boy's future, wus a wearin' onher: the active, keen mind, the throbbin', achin' heart, was a wearin' outthe 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 SweetCicely, only at times there would be a red upon 'em, as if a leaf out of ascarlet 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 ofimmortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes. 

And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have beenexecuted with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)--he wuz sot, agood man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the groundthan 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 thesale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool blankets, andetcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a new saloon andbilliard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose; and he told howmuch more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons, that wuz in theboy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a drawin' some othermother's boys down to ruin. 

Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said, --said she was afraid thecurses of these mothers would fall on the boy. 

And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face grewthinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks regularevery afternoon, and she begun to cough bad. 

But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went tosee the executor, Condelick Post. 

We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrovethere at 1 P. M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot outfor Mr. Post'ses office. 

[Illustration: CONDELICK POST. ]

He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so ather, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be totell 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, oramiabler. 

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 thesebuildin'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 businessto 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 herrequest. 

But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half sopolite. 

And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued theright 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 washer own property. The most of her husband's wealth was in the mills andgovernment bonds. But she wanted her money invested here, because shewanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let the interestaccumulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel, for the workmenat the mills. 

And says she, "Is it _right_ that my own property should be used forwhat I consider such wicked purposes?"

"Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any otherinvestment that I have been able to make. And you know your husband's willprovides handsomely for you--the yearly allowance is very handsomeindeed. "

"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 theway I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man inthis section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints, willbe of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony. "

"It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight ofheavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives. "

"All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But therewill be nothing of the kind, I assure you, " says he, with a patronizingsmile. "It will all be invested in government bonds, --good, honestdollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them. "

"Yes, and these words, 'In God we trust. ' But do you know, " says she, withthe red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes brighter, --"doyou know, if one did not possess great faith, they would be apt to doubtthe 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 byintemperance. 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 thecause 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 losthim 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 shecouldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed toconquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, andspeak 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 otherwomen'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 Iam doing. "

"I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant myprayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, tobeg for mercy. "

"O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women arethe real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a rod ofiron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real autocratsof--of the breakfast-table, and of life. "

You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago. Heforgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had almostentirely gone out of fashion. And it was a good deal more stylish now totalk 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 tohonest business men for some other purpose than drinking-saloons?"

"O my dear, dear madam! What can you be thinking of? The rent that I getfrom those four buildings is equal in amount to any eight of the otherbuildings of the same size. I cannot, I cannot, consent to make anychanges whatever. "

"You will not, then, do as I wish?"

"I _cannot_, my dear madam: I prefer to put it in that way, --Icannot. I do not see as you do in the matter. And as the law empowers meto 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 wasready 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, forhe spoke out in a sort of a comfortin' voice, --

"You have had great sorrows, Mrs. Slide, but you have also a great deal tocomfort you. Just think of how many other widows have been left inpoverty, 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 atnight, with her hungry children crying for bread about her. She can lie onher cold pile of rags, with the snow sifting down on her, and think thather husband, a sober, honest man once, was made a low, brutal wretch byintemperance; that he drank up all his property, killed himself by strongdrink, was buried in a pauper's grave, and left a starving wife andchildren, to live if they could. The cold of winter freezes her, the wantof food makes her faint, and to see her little ones starving about hermakes 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 bitterestsmile I ever see on Cicely's face, --

"But do you not think, that, as I lie on my warm, soft couch at night, myheart is wrung by a keener pang than that drunkard's wife can ever know? Ican lie and think that by my means, my wealth, I am making just such homesas that, making just such broken hearts, just such starving children, filling just such paupers' graves, --laying up a long store of curses andjudgments, for my boy's inheritance. And I am powerless to do any thingbut suffer. "

And she opened the door, and walked right out. And Mr. Post stood andsmiled till we got to the bottom of the stairs. 

"Good-afternoon, _good_-afternoon, my clear madam, call again; happyto see you--_Good_-afternoon. "

Wall, Cicely went right to bed the minute we got home; and she never eat amite of supper, only drinked a cup of tea, and thanked me so pretty forbringin' it to her. 

And there was such a sad and helpless, and sort of a outraged, look in herpretty brown eyes, some as a noble animal might have, who wus at bay withthe 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 atbay, " and what kind of a bay it was--was it the bay to a barn? or on thewater? or--

Oh my land! my land! How I did suffer!

But Cicely grew worse fast, from that very day. She seemed to run rightdown. 

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 abouthim, with her face lookin' so wan and white, and her big eyes so sorrowfullookin', as if they was lookin' onto all the sadness and trouble of theworld, and couldn't help herself--such a sort of a hopeless look, andlovin' and broken-hearted, that it was all I could do to stand it withoutbreakin' right down, and cry in' with her. 

But I knew her state, and held firm. And she went over all the old groundsagin to me, that she had foreboded on; and I went over all the old groundsof 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 Ideclare 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 thesubject hadn't been so dretful deep and solemn, deeper than any poulticethat was ever made--and solemner. 

Why, Tirzah Ann says to me one day, --she had been settin' with Cicely fora 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 seeCicely's broken-hearted look, and hear her talk for half a day; and youhave 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 achefor her. And, " says I, "if I knew myself, I had got to die and leave a boyin 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 ofus wiped our eyes. 

But I held firm before her, and reminded her every time, of what she knewalready, --"that there was One who was strong, who comforted her in herhour of need, and He would watch over the boy. "

And sometimes she would be soothed for a little while, and sometimes shewouldn't. 

Wall, this day, as I said, she had worried and worried and worried. And atlast I had soothed her down, real soothed. And she asked me before I wentdown-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 wouldread 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 ortwo 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 knewmy pies was a scorchin' in the oven, for I smelt 'em. I did well byCicely. 

[Illustration: SAMANTHA LISTENING TO CICELY. ]

After she finished it, I told her it was perfectly beautiful, and I lefther feelin' quite bright; and there wuzn't but one of my pies spilte, andI didn't care if it wuz. I wuzn't goin' to have her feelin's hurt, pies orno 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 fromCicely's, so's if she wanted any thing, he could get it for her. I wuzn'tgone 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 contentedlook 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 hasbeen 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; andthere was a look in her eyes some as there wuz when she come home from heraunt Mary's, and told me "she almost wished her aunt had died while shewas there, because she felt that her mother would be the angel sent fromheaven 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 hereyes, as she repeated, --

"She has been here! I was lying here, aunt Samantha, reading 'TheCelestial Country, ' not thinking of any thing but my book, when suddenly Ifelt something fanning my forehead, like a wing passing gently over myface. 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 reachedout my hands, and cried, --"'Mother! mother! where are you? Oh! how I havewanted 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 youwould feel if your eyes were shut, and you were placed in a room full ofpeople. You would know they were there--you would feel their presence, though you couldn't see them. You know what the Bible says, --'Seeing weare encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses. ' That word justdescribes what I felt. There seemed to be all about me, a great cloud ofpeople. And I put my arms out, and made a rush through them, as you wouldthrough 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 thanhearing. 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 uncleJosiah 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 hetook me up in his arms, and brought me back into my room, and laid me onthe 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 goodenough, I could have seen her. For she was here, aunt Samantha, right inthis room. "

Her eyes wus so big and solemn and earnest, that I knew she meant what shesaid. 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 believeit, 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; andshe says, without actin' a mite surprised, --

"Aunt Mary is dead. "

And sure enough, when she opened it, it was so. She died jest before thetime Cicely come out into the hall. Josiah remembered plain. The clock hadjest 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 acoincidin' coincidence, her havin' these feelin's at exactly the time heraunt died, or not, --I don't know any more than you do. I jest put down thefacts, and you can draw your own inferences from 'em, and draw 'em jest asfur 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, anda wonderin', --for I say plain that my specks hain't strong enough to seethrough the mysteries that wrap us round on every side, --I s'posed mycompanion wus asleep; but he spoke out sudden like, and decided, as if Ihad 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 actand talk as if she was _sure_ he would. She would look at him, notwith the old, pitiful, agonized look, but with a sweet and happy light inher eyes. 

And I guessed that she thought that the laws would be changed before theboy was of age. I thought that she felt real encouraged to think the marchof civilization was a marchin' on, pretty slow but sure, and, before theboy got old enough to go out into a world full of temptations, there wouldbe wiser laws, purer influences, to help the boy to be a good and nobleman, which is about the best thing we know of, here below. 

No, she never worried one worry about him after that day, not a singleworry. But she made her will, and it was fixed lawful too. She wanted Paulto 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 wasof age, should be used to found a school, and a home for the children ofdrunkards. A good school and a Christian home, to teach them and help themto be good, and good citizens. 

Josiah Allen and Thomas J. And I was appinted to see to it, appinted bylaw. 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 andspirits 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 usedto 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 Ikep' still, and tried to look on it with the eye of the United States, andheld firm. 

And we give her our solemn promises, that in case the job fell to us todo, 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 muchdanger of its ever takin' place, for Paul was a healthy child. And hisappetite was perfectly startlin' to any one who never see a child'sappetite. 

I estimated, and estimated calmly, that there wuzn't a hour of the daythat he couldn't eat a good, hearty meal. But truly, it needed a strongdiet to keep up his strength. For oh! oh! the questions that child wouldask! He would get me and Philury pantin' for breath in the house, and thengo out with calmness and strength to fatigue his uncle Josiah and Urynearly unto death. 

But they loved him, and so did I, with a deep, pantin', tired-outaffection. We loved him better and better as the days rolled by: thetireder 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 intercoursewith him, died out. I did think, that, in the course of time, he would getall asked out. There wouldn't be a thing more in heavens or on earth, orunder the earth, that he hadn't enquired in perticular about. 

But as days passed by, I see the fallicy of my hopes. Insperation seemedto come to him; questions would spring up spontanious in his mind; themore he asked, the more spontaniouser they seemed to spring. 

Now, for instance, one evenin' he asked me about 3, 000 questions about theAtlantic Ocian, its whales and sharks and tides and steamships and islandsand pirates and cable and sailors and coral and salt, and etc. , etc. , andetcetery; and after a hour or two he couldn't think of another thing toask, seemin'ly. And I begun to get real encouraged, though fagged to thevery outmost limit of fag, when he drew a long breath, and says with aperfectly 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 hunglike a slender golden bow in the west, "don't you think the moon to-nightis shaped some like a hammock? and if I set down in it with my feethanging out, would I be dizzy? and if I should curl my feet up, and layback in it, and sail--and sail--and sail up into the sky, could I find outabout things up in the heavens? Could I find the One up there that set meto breathing? And who made the One that made me? And where was I before Iwas made?--and uncle Josiah and Ury? And why wouldn't I tell him where wewas before we was anywhere? and if we wasn't anywhere, did I suppose wewould 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 seenanybody 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 ofdiscovery. 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 wouldget, you was jest as ready for him the next time, jest as ready to betackled and tuckered. 

He was up with his mother a good deal. He would get up on the bed, and layby her side; and she would hold him close, and talk good to him, dretfulgood. 

I heard her tellin' him one day, that, "if ever he had a man's influenceand strength, he must use them wisely, and deal tenderly and gently bythose who were weaker, and in his power. That a manly man was neverashamed of doing what was right, no matter how many opposed him; that itwas manly and noble to be pure and good, and helpful to all who neededhelp. 

"And he must remember, if he ever got tired out and discouraged trying tobe 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 shouldtake him in her arms again, before life here would end, and the new andglorious life begin, that he must fit himself for. That life here was soshort that it wasn't worth while to spend any part of it in less worthywork 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 achild, 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 lovedand 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 alivin' in another world than ourn: you could see its bright radience inher 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 goodabout 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 allthe time in body, but happier and happier in her mind; so sweet andserene, 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 anddark, with a prophecy in them of the coming brightness and glory of thefull 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 forthe doctor in the mornin', and told Ury to have Tirzah Ann and Maggie comehome and spend the day. Which they did. 

And in the afternoon she grew worse so fast, that towards night I sent forthe doctor again. 

He didn't give any hope, and said the end was very near. A little beforenight the boys come, --Thomas Jefferson and Whitfield. 

The sun went down; and it was a clear, beautiful evenin', though there wasno moon. All was still in the house: the lamp was lighted, but the doorsand 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 feelsorrowful, much as we loved her. 

She had wanted the boy on the bed with her; and I told Josiah and thechildren we would go out, and leave her alone with him. Only, the doctorsot by the window, with the lamp on a little stand by the side of him, andthe 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' tohim, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was allstill, 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 onCicely's face, --every one in the room saw it, --a white, pure light, likeno other light on earth, unless it was something like that wonderful newlight--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 thelamplight at the other end of the room. 

It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on hersmilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from usall. 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 hismoist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to herheart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed theboy. 

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 atthem with wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us, fur awayfrom us who loved her, --we who were on this earth still. Love still heldher here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the human; but hersweet 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, thatheld him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes onhim; and, oh! what a look that was, --a look of such full peace, andrapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all thatshould happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, hadblossomed, 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'tcrying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in mymind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could neverforget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when theywould 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 sorto' decided like, --

"Most probable it was the lamp. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

It was a lovely mornin' about three weeks after Cicely's death. Josiah hadto go to Jonesville to mill, and the boy wanted to go to; and so I put onhis 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 thingof him, and petted him. And I had told him that she had gone to a lovelyplace, and was there a waitin' for him. And I would say it to him with ascheerful a face as I could. (I knew I could do my own cryin', out to oneside. )

And he believed me. He believed every word I said to him. And he would askme sights and sights of questions about "the _place_. "

And "if it was inside the gate, that uncle Josiah had read about, --thatgate that was big and white, like a pearl? And if it would float downthrough the sky some day, and stand still in front of him? And would thegate swing open so he could see into the City? and would it be allglorious with golden streets, and shining, and full of light? And wouldhis mamma Cicely stand just inside, and reach out her arms to him?--thosepretty 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 herown 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 timeto wait. "

And didn't think it was wicked, for it wuzn't long anyway. For "our daysare 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 hisuncle Josiah. And I gin him some pennys to get some oranges for him andthe 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 amendin' it, --one of the pockets had gin out, and it was frayed round theedges. 

And I sot there a sewin' on that fray, peaceful and calm and serene as theoutside of the vest, which was farmer's satin, and very smooth andshinin'. The weather also wus as mild and serene as the vest, if notserener. I had got my work all done up as slick as a pin: the floorglittered like yellow glass, the stove shone a agreable black, a gooddinner was a cookin'. And I sot there, happy, as I say; for though, when Ihad done so much work that mornin', if that vest had belonged to anybodyelse, it would have looked like a stent to me, I didn't mind it, for itwas 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 toldJosiah, from a sense of duty, that "he had broke that pocket down byluggin' round so much stuff in it, and there was no sense in actin' as ifhe could carry round a hull car-load of things in his vest-pocket;" thoughI had spoken to him thus, from a sense of duty, tryin' to keep himstraight and upright in his demeaner, --still, I was a thinkin' howpleasant it wuz to work for them you loved, and that loved you: for thoughhe had snapped me up considerable snappish, and said "he should carryround in his pockets as much as he was a minter; and if I didn't want tomend it, I could let it alone, " and had throwed it down in the corner, andslammed the door considerable hard when he went out, still, I knew thatthis slight pettishness was only the light bubbles that rises above thesparkling wine. I knew his love for me lay pure and clear and sparklin' inthe very depths of his soul. 

I was a settin' there, thinkin' about it, and thinkin' how true love, suchas mine and hisen, glorified a earthly existence, when all of a sudden Iheard a rap come onto the kitchen door right behind me; and I says, "Comein. " And a tall, slim feller entered, with light hair, and sort o' thin, and a patient, determined countenance onto him. A sort of a persistentlook to him, as if he wuzn't one to be turned round by trifles. I didn'tdislike 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, hehadn't much more than got sot down when he says to me right there, in themiddle of the forenoon, and right to my face, --the mean, miserable, lowlived scamp, --says he, right there, in broad daylight, and withoutblushing, 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 byhis impudence. "Sell me a feller!" "Yes: I have got some of the best kindsthey 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, andwith my respectability, and after carryin' round such principles as I havebeen 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 thereis made. "

"I'll let you know, young man, " says I, "I'll let you know that I have gota feller of my own, as good a one as was ever made, one I have had for 20years and over. "

"Wall, mom, " says he, with that stiddy, determined way of hisen, "a fellerthat 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 gearyourself, 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 Iwarmly. "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 allkinds. "

"Sell me another attachment? No, sir. You can't sell me anotherattachment. My attachment is as firm and endurin' as the rocks, and hasalways 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 Imake 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, andshet the door in his face. And then agin, I thought, I am a member of themeetin'-house. I must be patient and long sufferin', and may be here is achance for me to do good. Thinks'es I, if I was ever eloquent in a goodcause, I must be now. I must convince him of the nefariousness of hisconduct. And if soarin' in eloquence can do it, why, I must soar. And so Ibegun. 

Says I, wavin' my right hand in a broad, soarin', eloquent wave, "Youngman, when you talk about buyin' and sellin' a feller, you are talkin' on asolemn subject, --buyin and sellin' attachments! Buyin' and sellin'fellers! It hain't nothin' new to me. I've hearn tell of such things, butlittle 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 thehighest bidder, with a minister for auctioneer and salesman. I have hearnof fathers and mothers sellin' beauty and innocence and youth to wickedold age for money--sellin' 'em right in the meetin'-house, under the veryshadow of the steeple. 

[Illustration: THEM THAT SELL DOVES. ]

"Jerusalem hain't the only village where God's holy temple has beenpolluted by money-changers and them that sell doves. Many a sweet littledove 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 thinkher tellin' that lie, makes the infamous bargain more sacred, makes theinfamous life they have drove her into more respectable. 

"There was One who cleansed from such accursed traffic the old Jewishtemples, but He walks no more with humanity. If he did, would he not walkup the broad aisles of our orthodox churches in American cities, andrelease 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 thelash of His righteous wrath will surely descend, not upon their bodies, but upon their guilty souls, teachin' them how much more terrible it is tosell 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; andit uses up a fearful ammount of wind, and is tuckerin' beyend what any onecould 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: buttime is valuable to me; and as I said, I stopped here this morning to seeif I could sell"--

"I know you did: I heard you with my own ears. If it had come through twoor three, or even one, pair of ears besides my own, I couldn't havebelieved 'em--I never could have believed that any human creeter, male orfemale, would have dared to stand up before me, and try to sell me afeller! _Sell_ a feller to me! Why, even in my young days, do yous'pose I would ever try to _buy_ a feller?

"No, sir! fellers must come free and spontaneous? or not at all. Never wasI the woman to advance one step towards any feller in the way ofcourtship--havin' no occasion for it, bein' one that had more offers thanI knew what to do with, as I often tell my husband, Josiah Allen, now, inour little differences of opinion. 'Time and agin, ' as I tell him, 'Imight 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 themarriage alter. I loved the feller I married, and he was the only fellerin the hull world for me. "

Says he in that low, gentle tone, and lookin' modest and patient as alily, but as determined and sot as ever a iron teakettle was sot over astove, --

"You are under a mistake, mom. "

Says I, "Don't you tell me that agin if you know what is good foryourself. I guess I know my own mind. I was past the age of whifflin', andfoolin' round. I married that feller from pure love, and no other reasonunder 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 naturallife, for over twenty years. _Why_ did I marry Josiah Allen? But Ididn't revery on it long. I was too agitated, and wrought up; and I saysagin, 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 andimmovible, and says he, --

"I didn't mean no offense, mom. Sellin' attachments is what I get myliving by"--

"Wall, I should ruther not get a livin', " says I, interruptin' of him. "Ishould ruther not live. "

"As I said, mom, I get my livin' that way: and one of your neighbors toldme 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 couldsell you one. "

"You miserable coot you!" says I. "Do you stop your impudent talk, or Iwill holler to Josiah. What do you s'pose I want with another feller? Doyou s'pose I'd swap Josiah Allen for all the fellers that ever swarmed onthe globe? What do you s'pose I care for the latest improvements? If afeller was made of pure gold from head to feet, with diamond eyes and agarnet nose, do you s'pose he would look so good to me as Josiah Allenduz?

"And I would thank the neighbers to mind their own business, and let myaffairs alone. What if he is a gettin' old and wore out? What if he is agivin' out? He is always kinder spindlin' in the spring of the year. Somemen 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 allright when the weather moderates. And mebby they meant to hint andinsinuate 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'tmarry that man for hair; I didn't marry that man for teeth, and a fewlocks 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 myfeller is one of a thousand. "

"I hain't disputed you, mom, " says he, with his firm, patient look. "Idare 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 Iknow that truth and fidelity and constancy, _are_ old-fashioned. ButI 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 truesouls have wore ever since. "

"But your attachment will grow older and older, and give out entirelyafter 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. Truelove is not sought after, it comes; and when it comes, it stays. Talkabout love gettin' old--love _never_ grows old; talk about lovegoin'--love _never_ goes: that which goes is not love, though it hasbeen 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, itis a flame that God Himself kindles: it is a bit of His own brightness ashinin' down through the darkness of our earthly life, and is as immortaland indestructible as His own glory. 

"It is the only fountain of Eternal Youth that gushes up through thisdreary earthly soil, for the refreshin' of men and wimmen, in which theweary 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 havehim repaired. The impudence of the hull idee, " says I, roustin' up afresh, "goes ahead of any thing I ever dreamed of, of impudence. Repair myfeller! I don't want him any different. I want him jest as he is. I wouldscorn to repair him. I _could_ if I wanted to, --his teeth could besharpened up, what he has got, and new ones sot in. And I could cover hishead over with red curls; or I could paint it black, and paste transferflowers onto it. I could have a sot flower sot right on the top of hisbald head, and a trailin' vine runnin' round his forward. Or I could trimit round with tattin', if I wanted to, and crystal beads. I could repairhim up so he would look gay. But do you s'pose that any artificials thatwas 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' roundthat head, that I wouldn't swap for all the beauty and the treasures ofthe 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 happysunrise a shinin' on that old bald head, and then gleamin' off into myhappy heart. 

"There is memories of pleasant evenin' hours, with the tea-table drawed upin front of the south door, and the sweet southern wind a comin' in overthe roses, and the tender light of the sunset, and the waverin' shadows ofthe 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 tome; though I thought I heard the murmur of his voice makin' a sort of atinklin' accompinment to my thoughts, sunthin' like the babble of a brooka runnin' along under forest boughs, when the wind with its mighty melodyis sweepin' through 'em. Great emotions was sweepin' along with power, andcouldn'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 theold lane alder and willow fringed, with the brook runnin' along on oneside of it; where the speckled trout broke the Sunday quiet by dancin' upthrough the brown and gold shadows of the cool water, and the odor of thepine 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, aswe sot out for the revival meetin', when the sun had let down his longbars of gold and crimson and yellow, and had got over 'em, and sunk downbehind '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. Andfur away over the green hills and woods of the east, the moon was arisin', 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 theschoolhouse, when they sort o' blended in with 'There is a fountain filledwith blood, ' and 'Come, ye disconsolate. '

"And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles, shonedown and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as he helpedme out of the wagon. 

"Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of peaceand happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every timeabout 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 hecarried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places atthe table. 

"Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under therainbow when the storm had passed. It stands out from a background ofwinter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightnessof them seasons a hangin' over it. 

"Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier andmore blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a littlecoffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by meunder the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for thefuture. 

"That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart, likea beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do yous'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to me asthat 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 atall. 

"He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth ifhe hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long asJosiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and keep itdown here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as he istoo. 

"And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!" says I, kindercomin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen, andgossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations. And asI lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on one foot, withhis 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 voiceof pain; "nearly nine moments long: but, " says he, sort o' bracin' up aginon both feet, "I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come into thisneighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated that I got theidee, 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'twork at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the neighbors? Iguess 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 Ibe. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest; andwhose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get togoin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low as towatch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute they setdown; 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, butas determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic, --

"You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I couldfix over your feller if you wanted me to"--

Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on thisseethin' 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 theform where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may bemore 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 waysdown into a revery, --

"It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion largeand boundless enough to fill eternity and old space itself, should all begathered 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. Andhow small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it canbe, but so it is. 

"_Why_ Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lotentertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell youplain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should ask mewhere Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go, itstays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free giftsfrom 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' forbetter chances. "

"Yes, mom, " says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one footsome like a patient old gander in the fall of the year. 

"Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your verysociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is reallyconsistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I first comein, I merely called to see if I could sell you"--

"Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heardfrom 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, andstarted for the door, --and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so soon, Ifelt 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 toldtime and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair complected. Iwon't think, " says I, feelin' still softer towards him as I see him aopenin' the door, --

"I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made yourinfamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' humanbein', married or single. "

He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable ofa meek voice, --

"I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest firmin North America. "

"What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if hebelongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle--that is what I am aworkin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin' afeller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that hadthe 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 andagin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right, butthe meanin' is, --

"Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller isa feller for all that. "

But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind andeloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing--if he didn't turn round atthe foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient, determinedattitude 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 couldsell you"--

But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the westchamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't know howlong he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come down to getdinner, and that was all I cared for. 

I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you, myeyes 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 fellerfor my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent inJonesville 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 arejoyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September hadstepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and curchiedto us (allegory). 

Ah, yes! time passes by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the dayspass slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter. 

But the time, though goin' fast, had passed by very quietly and peacefullyto 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 landin 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 mydirection) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely pilgrimagehad seemed to pass from Philury's mind. 

The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better andbetter, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over 50questions 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 hewould talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that hewould 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 totell the truth, and do as I would tell him to--and would, a good deal ofthe time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and repeatlots 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 hisprayers: "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 inheart. 

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 ofplayin'. 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 ahitchin' each other to the post. 

But he had got tired about sundown, and come in, and leaned up against mylap, and asked me about 88 questions about his ma and the City. He hadnever forgot what his uncle Josiah had read about it, and he couldn't seemto 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, "Mymamma Cicely said it would swing right down out of heaven some day, andwould open, and I could walk in; and don't you believe mamma will standjust inside of the gate as she used to, and say, 'Here comes my own littleboy'?"

And he wus jest a askin' me this, --and it beats all, how many times he hadtackled me on this very subject, --when Whitfield drove up in a greathurry. Little Samantha Joe had been taken sick, very sick, and extremelysudden. 

Scarlet-fever was round, and she and the boy had both been exposed. I wasall 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 withlight. And as we rode on towards Jonesville right towards it, --though veryanxious 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, andgold light, a streamin' out, and changin', and glowin', movin' about, asclouds 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 wes'pose, from what we could learn afterwards, that the boy, too, wasattracted by that wonderful glory in the west, and strolled out to theorchard to look at it. It wus a favorite place with him, anyway. And therewus a certain tree that he loved to lay under. A sick-no-further apple. Itwus the very tree I found him under that day in the spring, a lookin' upinto the sky, a watchin' for the City to come down from heaven. You couldsee a good ways from there off into the west, and out over the lake. Andthe sunset must have looked beautiful from there, anyway. 

Wall, my poor companion Josiah wus all rousted up in his mind about thebabe, and he never thought of the boy till it was half-past nine; and thenhe hurried off to find him, skairt, but s'posen he was up on his bed withhis 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 thebarn, 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 Mondaynight, --she had seen him out in the orchard under the sick-no-furthertree. 

And there they found him, fast asleep--where they s'pose he had fellasleep unexpected to himself. 

It wus then almost eleven o'clock, and he was wet with dew: the dew washeavy that night. And when they rousted him up, he was so hoarse hecouldn't speak. And before mornin' he was in a high fever. They sent forme and the doctor at daybreak. Little Samantha Joe wus better: it onlyproved to be a hard cold that ailed her. 

But the boy had the scarlet-fever, so the doctor said. And he grew worsefast. He didn't know me at all when I got home, but wus a talkin' fastabout his mamma Cicely; and he asked me "If the gate had swung down, forhim to go through into the City, and if his mamma was inside, reachin' outher arms to him?"

And then he would get things all mixed up, and talk about things he hadheard of, and things he hadn't heard of. And then he would talk about howbright it was inside the gate, and how he see it from the orchard. And sowe knew he had been attracted out by the bright light in the west. 

And then he would talk about the strangest things. His little tonguecouldn'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 sowhite and still that I knew before the doctor told me, that we couldn'tkeep 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 thatthe Lord Himself could find for the boy. 

And it wus about sundown that he died. I had been down-stairs forsomethin' for him; and as I went back into the room, I see his eyes waswide open, and looked natural. 

[Illustration: "SAY!"]

And as I bent over him, he looked up at me, and said in a faint voice, butrational, --

"Say"--

And I couldn't help a smilin' right there, with the tears a runnin' downmy face like rain-water. He wanted to ask some question. 

But he couldn't say no more. His little, eager, questionin' soul was toofur 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, andthen up over my head, and beyend it--and beyend--and I see there settleddown over his face the sort of a satisfied look that he would have when Ihad answered his questions; and I sort o' smiled, and said to myself, Iguessed the Lord had answered it. 

And so he went through the gate of the City, and was safe. And that is theway God took care of the boy.