Humor
Read books online » Humor » Samantha at Saratoga by Marietta Holley (i read a book txt) 📖

Book online «Samantha at Saratoga by Marietta Holley (i read a book txt) đŸ“–Â». Author Marietta Holley



1 ... 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 ... 40
Go to page:
away, for another stranger wuz approachin’ the seen.

I, myself, didn’t have no idee that Josiah wuz a goin’ to die. But Ardelia whispered to me, she must go back to the hotel, so she went. I see she looked kinder strange, and I didn’t object to it. And when we got back she handed me some verses entitled:

“Stanzas on the death of Josiah Allen.”

She handed ’em to me, and hastened away, quick. But Josiah Allen didn’t die. And this incident made him more megum. More as I wanted him to be. Why, you have to be megum in everything, no matter how good it is. Milk porridge, or the Bible, or anything. You can kill yourself on milk porridge if you drink enough. And you can set down and read the Bible, till you grow to your chair, and lose your eyesight.

Now these waters are dretful good, but you have got to use some megumness with ’em, it stands to reason you have. Taint megum to drink from 10 to 12 glasses at a time, and mix your drinks goin’ round from spring to spring like a luny. No; get a good doctor to tell you what minerals you seem to stand in need on the most, and then try to get ’em with fear and tremblin’. You’ll get help I haint a doubt on’t. For they are dretful good for varius things that afflict the human body. Dretful!

These are the verses of Ardelia:

“STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF JOSIAH ALLEN.

“Oh! angel man that erst did live and move,
Thy wings close furled within a broad cloth vest,
With cambric back, oh, soul of love
That in those depths reposed—Alas why wrest
Why wildly tear,

“Oh death, that soul, white nigh upon as snow,
From body, small perhaps, by stillyards weighed,
And full as light complexioned, as men go,
As is the common run of men, arrayed,
Oh yes, arrayed,

“In graces full he wentest to his fate,
His doom wuz pure as men’s dooms ever are;
Not by the brandy bottle fell he desolate
No, by sweet water fell he, with a noble air,
And breath of balm,

“Not with a feud with neighbor foe he fell
Nor scaffolds did he tread with aching feet
Nor arson he, nor rapine down the dell,
No, pure white soul, he fell by water sweet;
All innocent.

“Had whisky strong his slight form overthrew—
We’d weep with finger hiding all our face,
To think a sling should slung at him and slew,
But no, by water fell he, no disgrace—
No direful shame.

“Rests on his tomb, his bride; the world around,
Methinks a world might wish to fall like him
The prophets of old time who smiled and frowned
Could court such fate, we feel Abim—
We feel Abim—

“ilek, or Job, might be content to die
With crystal water, drunken from a glass,
Held by a boy, and no great quantitie
Drunk he, not over nine in all, alas,
Or ten, or ’leven.

“Oh, spring, oh, magnesie percipitate
And sodium and iron—and everything,
Methinks ye’ll sadder feel, since his sad fate
Who drunk thee up, not thinking anything—
We do suppose—

“Not anything of poison ye might keep
Might hold within thy crystal foaming breast
Why did he not the other spring drink deep,
And live? But oh! why ask? sweet angel spirit rest
From water far.

“Dear man, we raise this mound of verse o’er thee,
Would that ’twere higher, and more fiery bright.
We will, we will, while nations disagree,
Sit down and write as many as it seemeth right
Unto his wife.”

On the other side of the paper, as if wrote later, wuz the follerin’ lines. Ardelia is truthful. This is her strong point, that and her ambition.

“MY OWN LAY ON A SPRING.
“BV ARDELIA TUTT.

“Oh who can tell when air is full of warn
What crystal drop shall speed us to our fate,
And I alas, so blind, shall still drink on,
Shall drink thee early, and shall drink thee late
From every spring.

“Shall drink as many glasses as I hold,
One quart, or two, as fate shall thus decree,
Some are but vessels weak, some bold
And dauntless, hold from two quarts up to three,
Or thereabouts.

“Shall drink from wells all gemmed with crystal rays
With golden sheen, up sparkling to the rim,
And that is pure and clear to outward gaze
With hathorn bending gently o’er the brim
And every sort.”

Chapter XVI.
AT A LAWN PARTY.

Wall, the very next mornin’ Miss Flamm sent word for Josiah and me to come that night to a lawn party. And I sez at once, “I must go and get some lawn.”

Sez Josiah, “What will you do with it?”

And I sez, “Oh, I s’pose I shall wrap it round me, I’ll do what the rest do.”

And sez Josiah, “Hadn’t I ort to have some too? If it is a lawn party and everybody else has it, I shall feel like a fool without any lawn.”

And I looked at him in deep thought, and through him into the causes and consequences of things, and sez I, “I s’pose you do ort to have a lawn necktie, or handkerchief, or sunthin’.”

Sez he, “How would a vest look made out of it, a kinder sprigged one, light gay colors on a yaller ground-work?”

But I sez at once, “You never will go out with me, Josiah, with a lawn vest on.” And I settled it right there on the spot.

Then he proposed to have some wrapped round his hat, sort a festooned. But I stood like marble aginst that idee. But I knew I had got to have some lawn, and pretty soon we sallied out together and wended our way down to where I should be likely to find a lawn store.

And who should we meet a comin’ out of a store but Ardelia. Her 3d cousin had sent her over to get a ingregient for cookin’. Good, willin’ little creeter! She walked along with us for a spell. And while she wuz a walkin’ along with us, we come onto a sight that always looked pitiful to me, the old female that wuz always a’ sittin’ there a singin’ and playin’ on a accordeun. And it seemed to me that she looked pitifuller and homblier than ever, as she sot there amongst the dense crowd that mornin’ a singin’ and a playin’. Her tone wuz thin, thin as gauze, hombly gause too. But I wondered to myself how she wuz a feelin’ inside of her own mind, and what voices she heard a speakin’ to her own soul, through them hombly strains. And, ontirely unbeknown to myself, I fell into a short revery (short but deep) right there in the street, as I looked down on her, a settin’ there so old, and patient and helpless, amongst the gay movin’ throng.

And I wondered what did she see, a settin’ there with her blind eyes, what did she hear through them hombly tones that she wuz a singin’ day after day to a crowd that wuz indifferent to her, or despised her? Did she hear the song of the mornin’, the spring time of life? Did the song of a lark come back to her, a lark flyin’ up through the sweet mornin’ sky over the doorway of a home, a lark watched by young eyes, two pairs of ’em, that made the seein’ a blessedness? Did a baby’s first sweet blunders of speech, and happy laughter come back to her, as she sot there a drawin’ out with her wrinkled hands them miserable sounds from the groanin’ instrument? Did home, love, happiness sound out to her, out of them hombly strains? I’d have gin a cent to know.

And I’d have gin a cent quick to know if the tread—tread—tread of the crowd goin’ past her day after day, hour after hour, seems to her like the trample of Time a marchin’ on. Did she hear in ’em the footsteps of child, or lover, or friend, a steppin’ away from her, and youth and happiness, and hope, a stiddy goin’ away from her?

Did she ever listen through the constant sound of them steps, listen to hear the tread of them feet that she must know wuz a comin’ nigh to her—the icy feet that will approach us, if their way leads over rocks or roses?

Did she hate to hear them steps a comin’ nearer to her, or did she strain her ears to hear ’em, to welcome ’em? I thought like as not she did. For thinkses I to myself, and couldn’t help it, if she is a Christian she must be glad to change that old accordeun for a harp of any size or shape. For mournfuller and more melancholy sounds than her voice and that instrument made I never hearn, nor ever expect to hear, and thin.

Poor, old, hombly critter, I gin her quite a lot of change one day, and she braced up and sung and drawed out faster than ever, and thinner. Though I’d have gladly hearn her stop.

When I come up out of my revery, I see Ardelia lookin’ at her stiddy and kind a sot. And I mistrusted trouble wuz ahead on me, and I hurried Josiah down the street. Ardelia a sayin’ she had got to turn the corner, to go to another place for her 3d cousin.

Jest as we wuz a crossin’ a street my companion drawed my attention to a sign that wuz jest overhead, and sez lie, “That means me, I’m spoke of right out, and hung up overhead.”

And sez I, “What do you mean?”

Sez he, “Read it—‘The First Man-I-Cure Of The Day.’ That’s me, Samantha; I haint a doubt of it. And I s’pose I ort to go in and be cured. I s’pose probably it will be expected of me, that I should go in, and let him look at my corns.”

Sez I, “Josiah Allen, I’ve heerd you talk time and agin aginst big feelin’ folks, and here you be a talkin’ it right to yourself, and callin’ yourself the first man of the day.”

“Wall,” sez he firmly, “I believe it, and I believe you do, and you’d own up to it, if you wuzn’t so aggravatin’.”

“Wall, sez I mildly, “I do think you are the first in some things, though what them things are, I would be fur from wantin’ to tell you. But,” I continued on, “I don’t see you should think that means you. Saratoga is full of men, and most probable every man of ’em thinks it means him.”

“Wall,” sez he, “I don’t think it means me, I know it. And I s’pose,” he continued dreamily, “they’d cure me, and not charge a cent.”

“Wall,” sez I, “wait till another time, Josiah Allen.” And jest at this minute, right down under our feet, we see the word “Pray,” in big letters scraped right out in stun. And Josiah sez, “I wonder if the dumb fools think anybody is goin to kneel down right here in the street, and be run over. Why a man would be knocked over a dozen times, before he got through one prayer, Now I lay me down to sleep, or anything.”

“Wall,” sez I, mildly, “I don’t think that would be a very suitable prayer under the circumstances. It haint expected that you’d lay down here for a nap—howsumever,” sez I reesunably “their puttin’ the word there shows what good streaks the folks here have, and I don’t want you to make light on’t, and if you don’t want to act like a perfect backslider you’ll ceese usin’ such profane language on sech a solemn subject.”

Wall, we went into a good lookin’store and I wuz jest a lookin’ at some lawn and a wonderin’ how many yards I should want, when who should come in but Miss Flamm to get a rooch for her neck.

Looking at some lawn

And she told me that I didn’t need any lawn, and that it wuz a Garden party, and folks dressed in anything they wuz a mind to, though sez she, “A good many go in full dress.”

“Wall,” sez I calmly, “I have got one.” And she told me to come in good season.

That afternoon, Josiah a bein’ out for a walk, I took out of my trunk a dress that Alminy Hagidon had made for me out of a very full pattern I had got of a peddler, and wanted it all put in, so’s it would fade all alike, for I mistrusted it wouldn’t wash. It wuz gethered-in full round the waist, and the sleeves wuz set in full, and the waist wuz kinder full before, and it had a deep high ruffle gathered-in full round the neck. It wuz a very full dress, though I haint proud, and never wuz called so. Yet anybody duz take a modest pleasure in bein’

1 ... 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 ... 40
Go to page:

Free ebook «Samantha at Saratoga by Marietta Holley (i read a book txt) đŸ“–Â» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment