Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife, Marietta Holley [best e reader for academics .txt] 📗
- Author: Marietta Holley
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But this city of Robert Strong’s didn’t need steeples, as I say. It wuz Christianity built in bricks and mortar, practical religion lived right before ’em from day to day, comfortable houses for workmen, which they could hope to earn and call their own. Pleasant homes where happy love could dwell in content, because no danger stood round, hid in saloons to ruin husband, son and father; comfortable houses where health and happiness could dwell. Good wages, stiddy work, and a share in all the profits made there; good hard work whilst they did work, ensurin’ success and prosperity; but short hours, ensurin’ sunthin’ beyond wages.
A big house, called a Pleasure House, stood in the centre of the broad, handsome streets, a sort of a centrepiece from which streams of happiness and health flowed through the hull city, some as them little rills of pure snow water flowed through the streets of Salt Lake and Denver. Where all sorts of innocent recreation could be found to suit all minds and ages. A big library full of books. A museum full of the riches of science and art. A big music hall where lovers 73 of music could find pleasure at any time, and where weekly concerts was given, most of the performers being of the musically inclined amongst the young people in the City of Justice. A pretty little theatre where they could act out little plays and dramas of a helpful, inspirin’ sort. A big gymnasium full of the best appliances and latest helps to physical culture. A large bathing tank where the white marble steps led down to cool, sweet waters flowing through the crystal pool, free to all who wanted to use it. A free telephone linking the hull place together. I roamed along through the beautiful streets and looked on the happy, cheerful-faced workmen, who thronged them now, for their short day’s work wuz ended and they wuz goin’ home. My heart swelled almost to bustin’ and I sez almost unbeknown to myself, to Robert Strong who wuz walkin’ by my side: “We read about the New Jerusalem comin’ down to earth, and if I didn’t know, Robert Strong, that you had founded this city yourself, I should think that this wuz it.”
He laughed his boyish laugh, but I see the deep meanin’ in his clear, gray eyes and knew what he felt, though his words wuz light.
“Oh no,” sez he, “we read that those gates are pearl; these are just common wood, turned out by my workmen.”
Sez I, “The pearl of love and good will to man, the precious stun of practical religion and justice shines on these gates and every buildin’ here, and I bless the Lord that I have ever lived to see what I have to-day.” And I took out my snowy linen handkerchief and shed some tears on it, I was so affected.
Robert Strong wuz touched to his heart, I see he wuz, but kep’ up, his nater bein’ such. Miss Meechim and Dorothy wuz walkin’ a little ahead, Tommy between ’em. And anon we come to the house Robert lived in; not a bit better than the others on that street, but a nice comfortable structure of gray stun and brick, good enough for anybody, with wide sunshiny windows, fresh air, sunshine, plenty of books, 74 musical instruments and furniture good enough, but nothing for show.
Here his motherly-looking housekeeper spread a nice lunch for us. His overseer dined with us, a good-looking chap, devoted to Robert Strong, as I could see, and ready to carry out his idees to the full. Miss Meechim couldn’t find anything, it seemed to me, to pick flaws in, but she did say to me out to one side, “Just think how Robert lives in a house no better than his workmen, and he might live in a palace.”
Sez I, warmly, “Robert Strong’s body may stay in this comfortable brick house, good enough for anybody, but the real Robert Strong dwells in a royal palace, his soul inhabits the temple of the Lord, paved with the gold and pearl of justice and love, and its ruff reaches clear up into heaven from where he gits the air his soul breathes in.”
“Do you think so? I never thought of it in that light; I have thought his ideas was erroneous and so my clergyman thinks. Rev. Dr. Weakdew said to me there were a great many texts that he had preached from all his life, that if these ideas of Robert’s was carried out universally, would be destroyed and rendered meaningless. Texts it had always been such a comfort to him to preach from, he said, admonishing the poor of their duty to the rich, and comforting the poor and hungry and naked with assurances that though hungry here they may partake of the bread of life above, if they are humble and patient and endure to the end, and though shivering and naked here, they may be clothed in garments of light above.”
And I sez, “Bein’ that we are all in this world at present, I believe the Lord would ruther we should cover the naked limbs and feed the starvin’ bodies here, and now, and leave the futur to Him.”
But Miss Meechim shook her head sadly. “It sounds well,” sez she, “but there is something wrong in any belief that overthrows Scripture and makes the poor wealthy.”
75“Well,” sez I, “if it wuz our naked backs that the snow fell on, and the hail pelted, and our stomachs that wuz achin’ and faint for food, we should sing a different tune.”
“I trust that I should sing a Gospel tune in any event,” sez she.
“Well,” sez I, “we needn’t quarrel about that, for we couldn’t feel much like singin’ in them cases. But if we did sing I think a good hymn would be:
Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love.
“And if the rich and poor, Capital and Labor would all jine in and sing this from the heart the very winders of heaven would open to hear the entrancin’ strains,” sez I. But I don’t spoze I changed her mind any.
Dorothy bein’ naterally so smart, wuz impressed by all we had seen, I could see she wuz, and when he wuzn’t lookin’ at her I could see her eyes rest on Robert Strong’s face with a new expression of interest and approval. But she wuz full of light, happiness and joy––as she ort to be in her bright youth––and she and Robert and Miss Meechim spoke of the trip ahead on us with happy anticipations.
But I––oh, that deep, holler room in my heart into which no stranger looked; that room hung with dark, sombry black; remembrances of him the great ocean wuz a-goin’ to sever me from––he on land and I on sea––ten thousand miles of land and water goin’ to separate us; how could I bear it, how wuz I goin’ to stand it? I kep’ up, made remarks and answered ’em mekanically, but oh, the feelin’s I felt on the inside. How little can we tell in happy lookin’ crowds how many of the gay throng hear the rattle of their own private skeletons above the gayest music!
Well, we got home to the Palace hotel in good season, I a-talkin’ calmly and cheerfully, but sayin’ in the inside, “’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, be it 76 ever so humbly there is no place like home.” My home wuz my pardner, the place where he wuz would look better than any palace.
I went up to my room and after gettin’ Tommy to bed, who wuz cross and sleepy, I finished the letter to my help, for we wuz goin’ to start in the mornin’.
“Oh, Philury!” the letter run, “my feelin’s, you cannot parse ’em, even if you wuz better grounded in grammar than I think you be. Not one word from my beloved pardner do I hear––is Josiah dead?” sez I. “But if he is don’t tell me; I could not survive, and Tommy has got to be went with. But oh! if sickness and grief for me has bowed that head, bald, but most precious to me, deal with him as you would deal with a angel unawares. Bile his porridge, don’t slight it or let it be lumpy, don’t give him dish-watery tea, brile his toast and make his beef tea as you would read chapters of scripter––carefully and not with eye service. Hang my picter on the wall at the foot of the bed, and if it affects him too much, hang my old green braize veil over it, you’ll find it in the hall cupboard.”
But why should I sadden and depress the hearts of a good natered public? I writ seven sheets of foolscap, and added to what I had already writ, it made it too big to send by mail, so I put it in a collar box and sent it by express, charges paid, for I knew the dear man it wuz addressed to, if he wuz still able to sense anything, would like it better that way. And then my letter sent off I begun to pack my hair trunk anew.
Well, the day dawned gloriously. I spoze I must have slep’ some, for when I opened my eyes I felt refreshed. Tommy wuz awake in his little bed and “wonnerin’” at sunthin’ I spoze, for he always wuz, and breakfast wuz partook of by the hull party, for Robert Strong had come with a big carriage to take us to the ship and took breakfast with us, and soon, too soon for me, we stood on the wharf, surrounded by a tumultous crowd, goin’ every which way; 77 passengers goin’, visitors comin’, and officials from the ship goin’ about tending to everything; trunks and baggage being slammed down and then anon being run onto the ship, Miss Meechim’s, Dorothy’s and Robert Strong’s baggage piled up on one side on us and I carefully keepin’ watch and ward over a small-sized hair trunk, dear to me as my apples in my eyes, because every inch on it seemed to me like a sooveneer of that dear home I might never see agin.
As I stood holdin’ Tommy by the hand and keepin’ eagle watch over that trunk, how much did that big ship look like a big monster that wuz agoin’ to tear my heart all to pieces, tearin’ my body from the ground that kep’ my pardner on its bosom. Tears that I could not restrain dribbled down my Roman nose and onto my gray alpacky waist; Dorothy see ’em and slipped her kind little hand into mine and soothed my agony by gently whisperin’:
“Maybe you’ll get a letter from him on the ship, Aunt Samantha.”
Well, the last minute come, the hair trunk had been tore from my side, and I, too, had to leave terry firmy, whisperin’ to myself words that I’d hearn, slightly changed: “Farewell, my Josiah! and if forever, still forever fare thee well.” My tears blinded me so I could only jest see Tommy, who I still held hold of. I reached the upper deck with falterin’ steps. But lo, as I stood there wipin’ my weepin’ eyes, as the him sez, I hearn sunthin’ that rung sweetly and clearly on my ears over all the conflicting sounds and confusion, and that brung me with wildly beatin’ heart to
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