Samantha at Saratoga, Marietta Holley [most romantic novels TXT] 📗
- Author: Marietta Holley
Book online «Samantha at Saratoga, Marietta Holley [most romantic novels TXT] 📗». Author Marietta Holley
“And we set and see these silent mysteries a goin’ on right at our door-step day by day, and year by year, and think nothin’ of it, because it is so common. But if anything else, some new law, some new wonder we don’t understand comes in our way, we are ready to reject it and say it is a lie. But you know, Josiah Allen,” sez I, jest ready to go on eloquent -
But I wuz interrupted jest here by my companion hollerin’ up in a loud voice to a boy, “Here! you stop that, you young scamp! Don’t you let me see you a doin’ that agin!”
Sez I, “What is it, Josiah Allen?”
“Why look at them young imps, a throwin’ sticks at that feeble old woman, over there.”
I looked, and my own heart wuz rousted up with indignation. I stood where I couldn’t see her face, but I see she wuz old, feeble, and bent, a withered poor old creeter, and they had marked up over her, her name, Aunt Sally.
I too wuz burnin’ indignant to see a lot of young creeters a throwin’ sticks at her, and I cried out loud, “Do you let Sarah be.”
They turned round and laughed in our faces, and I went on: “I’d be ashamed of myself if I wuz in your places to be a throwin’ sticks at that feeble old woman. Why don’t you spend your strengths a tryin’ to do sunthin’ for her? Git her a home, and sunthin’ to eat, and a better dress. Before I’d do what you are a doin’ now, I’d growvel in the dust. Why, if you wuz my boys I’d give you as good a spankin’ as you ever had.”
But they jest laughed at us, the impudent Greeters. And one of the boys at that minute took up a stick and threw it, and hit Sarah right on her poor old head.
Sez Josiah, “Don’t you hit Sarah agin.”
Sez the boys, “We will,” and two of ’em hit her at one time. And one of ’em knocked the pipe right out of her mouth. She wuz a smokin’, poor old creeter. I s’pose that wuz all the comfort she took. But did them little imps care? They knocked her as if they hated the sight of her. And my Josiah (I wuz proud of that man) jest advanced onto ’em, and took ’em one in each hand, and gin ’em sech a shakin’, that I most expected to see their bones drop out, and sez he between each shake, “Will you let Sarah alone now?”
I wuz proud of my Josiah, but fearful of the effect of so much voyalence onto his constitution, and also onto the boys’ frames. And I advanced onto the seen of carnage and besought him to be calm. Sez he, “I won’t be calm!” sez he, “I haint the man, Samantha, to stand by and see one of your sect throwed at, as I have seen Sarah throwed at, without avengin’ of it.”
And agin he shook them boys with a vehemence. The pennies and marbles in their pockets rattled and their bones seemed ready to part asunder. I wuz proud of that noble man, my pardner. But still I knew that if their bones was shattered my pardner would be avenged upon by incensed parents. And I sez, “I’d let ’em go now, Josiah. I don’t believe they’ll ever harm Sarah agin.” Sez I, “Boys, you won’t, will you ever strike a poor feeble old woman agin?.” Sez I, “promise me, boys, not to hurt Sarah.”
I don’t know what the effect of my words would have been, but a man came up just then and explained to me, that Aunt Sally wuz a image that they throwed at for one cent apiece to see if they could break her pipe.
I see how it wuz, and cooled right down, and so did Josiah. And he gin the boys five cents apiece, and quiet rained down on the Encampment.
But I sez to the man, “I don’t like the idee of havin’ my sect throwed at from day to day, and week to week.” Sez I, “Why didn’t you have a man fixed up to throw at, why didn’t you have a Uncle Sam?” Sez I, “I don’t over and above like it; it seems to be a sort of a slight onto my sect.”
Sez the man winkin’ kind a sly at Josiah, “It won’t do to make fun of men, men have the power in their hands and would resent it mebby. Uncle Sam can’t be used jest like Aunt Sally.”
Sez I, “That haint the right spirit. There haint nothin’ over and above noble in that, and manly.”
I wuz kinder rousted up about it, and so wuz Josiah. And that is I s’pose the reasun of his bein’ so voyalent, at the next place of recreation we halted at Josiah see the picture of the mermaid; that beautiful female, a, settin’ on the rock and combin’ her long golden hair. And he proposed that we should go in and see it.
Sez I, “It costs ten cents apiece, Josiah Allen. Think of the cost before it is too late.” Sez I, “Your expenditure of money today has been unusial.” Sez I, “The sum of ten cents has jest been raised by you for noble principles, and I honer you for it. But still the money has gone.” Sez I, “Do you feel able to incur the entire expense?”
Sez he, “All my life, Samantha, I have jest hankered after seein’ a mermaid. Them beautiful creeters, a settin’ and combin’ their long golden tresses. I feel that I must see it. I fairly long to see one of them beautiful, lovely bein’s before I die.”
“Wall,” sez I, “if you feel like that, Josiah Allen, it is not fur from me to balk you in your search for beauty. I too admire loveliness, Josiah Allen, and seek after it.” And sez I, “I will faithfully follow at your side, and together we will bask in the rays of beauty, together will we be lifted up and inspired by the immortal spirit of loveliness.”
So payin’ our 30 cents we advanced up the steps, I expectin’ soon to be made happy, and Josiah held up by the expectation of soon havin’ his eyes blest by that vision of enchantin’ beauty, he had so long dremp of.
He advanced onto the pen first and before I even glanced down into the deep where as I s’posed she set on a rock a combin’ out her long golden hair, a singin’ her lurin’ and enchanted song, to distant mariners she had known, and to the one who wuz a showin’ of her off, before I had time to even glance at her, the maid, I was dumbfounded and stood aghast, at the mighty change that came over my pardner’s linement.
He towered up in grandeur and in wrath before me. He seemed almost like a offended male fowl when ravenin’ hawks are angerin’ of it beyond its strength to endure. I don’t like that metafor; I don’t love to compare my pardner to any fowl, wild or tame; but my frenzied haste to describe the fearful seen must be my excuse, and also my agitation in recallin’ of it.
He towered up, he fluttered so to speak majestically, and he says in loud wild axents that must have struck terror to the soul of that mariner, “Where is the hair-comb?”
And then he shook his fist in the face of that mariner, and cries out once agin, “Where is them long golden tresses? Bring ’em on this instant! Fetch on that hair-comb, in a minute’s time, or I’ll prosecute you, and sue you, and take the law to you - !”
The mariner quailed before him and sez I, “My dear pardner, be calm! Be calm!”
“I won’t be calm!”
Sez I mildly, but firmly, “You must, Josiah Allen; you must! or you will break open your own chest. You must be calm.”
“And I tell you I won’t be calm. And I tell you,” says he, a turnin’ to that destracted mariner agin “I tell you to bring on that comb and that long hair, this instant. Do you s’pose I’m goin’ to pay out my money to see that rack-a-bone that I wouldn’t have a layin’ out in my barn-yard for fear of scerin’ the dumb scere-crows out in the lot. Do you s’pose I’m goin’ to pay out my money for seein’ that dried-up mummy of the hombliest thing ever made on earth, the dumbdest, hombliest; with 2 or 3 horse hairs pasted onto its yellow old shell! Do you spose I’m goin’ to be cheated by seein’ that, into thinkin’ it is a beautiful creeter a playin’ and combin’ her hair? Bring on that beautiful creeter a combin’ out her long, golden hair this instant, and bring out the comb and I’ll give you five minutes to do it in.”
He wuz hoorse with emotion, and he wuz pale round his lips as anything and leis eyes under his forward looked glassy. I wuz fearful of the result.
Thinkses I, I will look and see what has wrecked my pardner’s happiness and almost reasen. I looked in and I see plain that his agitation was nothin’ to be wondered at. It did truly seem to be the hombliest, frightfulest lookin’ little thing that wuz ever made by a benignant Providence or a taxy-dermis. I couldn’t tell which made it. I see it all, but I see also, so firm, sot is my reasun onto its high throne on my heart, I see that to preserve my pardner’s sanity, I must control my reasun at the sight that had tottered my pardner’s.
I turned to him, and tried to calm the seethin’ waters, but he loudly called for the comb, and for the tresses, and the lookin’ glass. And, askin’ in a wild’ sarcastic way where the song wuz that she sung to mariners? And hollerin’ for him to bring on that rock at that minute, and them mariners, and ordered him to set her to singin’.
The idee! of that little skeletin with her skinny lips drawed back from her shinin’ fish teeth, a singin’. The idee on’t!
But truly, he wuz destracted and knew not what he did. The mariner in charge looked destracted. And the bystanders a standin’ by wuz amazed, and horrowfied by the spectacle of his actin’ and behavin’. And I knew not how I should termonate the seen, and withdraw him away from where he wuz.
But in my destraction and agony of sole, I bethought me of one meens of quietin’ him and as it were terrifyin’ him into silence and be the meens of gettin’ on him to leave the seen. I begoned to Ardelia to come forward and I sez in a whisper to her, “Take out your pencil and a piece of paper and stand up in front of him and go to writin’ some of your poetry,”
And then I sez agin in tender agents, “Be calm, Josiah.”
“And I tell you that I won’t be calm! And I tell you,” a shakin’ his fist at that pale mariner, “I tell you to bring out—“
At that very minute he turned his eyes onto Ardelia, who stood with a kind of a fur-away look in her eyes in front of him with the paper in her hand, and sez he to me, “What is she doin’?”
“She is composin’ some poetry onto you, Josiah Allen,” sez I, in tremblin’ axents; for I felt that if that skeme failed, I wuz undone, for I knew I had no ingredients there to get him a extra good meal. No, I felt that my tried and true weepon wuz fur away, and this wuz my last hope.
But as I thought these thoughts with almost a heatlightnin’ rapidety, I see a change in his liniment. It did not look so thick and dark; it began to look more natural and clear.
And sez he in the same old way I have heerd him say it so many times, “Dumb it all! What duz she want to write poetry on me for? It is time to go home.” And so sayin’, he almost tore us from the seen.
I gin Ardelia that night 2 yards
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