ELDER SNIFFLES’ COURTSHIP

Characters.

The widow retires to the grove in the rear of Elder Sniffles’ house, sits down on a log and sings in a plaintive voice.

Widow Bedott.

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed,

All on a summer’s day!

But O, my comfort was destroyed,

When Shadrack crossed my way!

I heerd him preach—I heerd him pray—

I heerd him sweetly sing;

Dear suz! how I did feel that day!

It was a drefful thing!

Full forty dollars would I give

If we’d continnerd apart—

For though he’s made my sperrit live

He’s surely bust my heart!

She sighs profoundly, and the Elder advances unexpectedly.

W. B. Good gracious! is that you, Elder Sniffles! how you did scare me! Never was so flustrated in all the days o’ my life! hadn’t the remotest idee o’ meeting you here—would’t a come for forty dollars if I’d a s’posed you ever meander’d here. I never was here afore—but was settin’ by my winder and I cast my eyes over here, and as I observed the lofty trees a wavin’ in the gentle blast, and heerd the feathered songsters a wobblin’ their mellancolly music, I felt quite a call to come over; it’s so retired and morantic—such an approbriate place to marvel round in, ye know, when a body feels low-sperrited and unconsolable, as I dew to-night. O, d-e-a-r!

E. S. Most worthy Mrs. Bedott, your evident depression fills me with unmitigated sympathy. Your feelings (if I may be permitted to judge from the language of your song, which I overheard)——

W. B. You didn’t though, Elder! the drefful suz! what shall I dew! I wouldn’t a had you heerd that song for no money! I wish I hadn’t a come! I wish to gracious I hadn’t a come!

E. S. I assure you, Mrs. Bedott, it was unintentional on my part, entirely unintentional, but my contiguity to yourself and your proximity to me were such as rendered it impossible for me to avoid hearing you—

W. B. Well, it can’t be helped now; it’s no use crying for spilt milk, but I wouldn’t have you to think I know’d you ever came here.

E. S. On the contrary, this grove is a favorite resort of mine; it affords a congenial retreat after the exterminating and tremendous mental labors of the day. I not unfrequently spend the declining hours of the evening here, buried in the most profound meditations. On your entrance I was occupying my customary seat beneath that umbrageous mounting ash which you perceive a few feet from you; indeed, had not your mind been much pre-occupied you could scarcely have avoided discovering me.

W. B. Oh, granf’ther grievous! I wish I’d staid to hum! I was born for misfortin’ and nothin’ else! I wish to massy I’d staid to hum to-night! but I felt as if I’d like to come here once afore I leave the place. [She weeps.]

E. S. Ah! indeed! do you project leaving Scrabble Hill?

W. B. Yes, I dew; I calklate to go next week. I must hear you preach once more—once more, Elder, and then I’m gwine—somewhere—I don’t care where, nor I don’t care what becomes o’ me when I git there. [She sobs violently.]

E. S. O, Mrs. Bedott, you distress me beyond limitation—permit me to inquire the cause of this uncontrollable agony?

W. B. O, Elder Sniffles, you’re the last indiwidual that ought to ax such a question. O, I shall die! I shall give it up!

E. S. Madame, my interest in your welfare is intense; allow me to entreat you still more vehemently to unburden your mind; perhaps it is in my power to relieve you.

W. B. Relieve me! what an idee! O, Elder, you will be the death o’ me if you make me revulge my feelings so. An hour ago I felt as if I’d a died afore I’d a said what I hev said now, but you’ve draw’d it out o’ me.

E. S. Respected madame, you have as yet promulgated nothing satisfactory; permit me——

W. B. O, granf’ther grievous! must I come to’t? Well, then, if I must, I must, so to begin at the beginnin’. When I fust heern you preach, your sarmons onsettled my faith; but after a spell I was convinced by yer argefyin’, and gin up my ’roneus notions, and my mind got considerably carm. But how could I set Sabberday after Sabberday under the droppin’s o’ yer voice, and not begin to feel a mor’n ordinary interest in the speaker? I indevored not tew, but I couldn’t help it; ’twas in vain to struggle against the feelin’s that prepossest my buzzom. But it’s all over with me now! my felicitude is at an end! my sittiwation is hopeless! I shall go back to Wiggleton next week, and never truble you no more.

E. S. Ah, Mrs. Bedott, you alarm——

W. B. Yes, you never’ll see no more truble with Prissilly. I’m agwine back to Wiggleton. Can’t bear to go back thar, nother, on account o’ the indiwidduals that I come away to git rid of. There’s Cappen Canoot, he’s always been after me ever since my husband died, though I hain’t never gin him no incurridgement—but he won’t take no for an answer. I dread the critter’s attentions. And ’Squire Bailey—he’s wonderful rich—but that ain’t no recommendation to me, and I’ve told him so time and agin, but I s’pose he thinks I’ll come round bumby. And Deacon Crosby, he lost his partner a spell afore I come away; he was very much pleased with me; he’s a wonderful fine man—make a fust-rate husband. I kind o’ hesitated when he promulgated his sentiments tew me, told him I’d think on’t till I cum back—s’pose he’ll be at me as soon as I git there. I hate to disappoint Deacon Crosby, he’s such a fine man, and my dezeased companion sot so much by him, but then I don’t feel for him as I dew for——. He’s a Presbyterian, tew, and I don’t think ’twould be right to unite my destination to hisen.

E. S. Undoubtedly in your present state of feeling, the uncongeniality would render a union——

W. B. O, dear, dear, dear! I can’t bear to go back there and indure their attentions, but, thank fortune, they won’t bother me long—I shall go into a decline, I know I shall, as well as I want to know it. My trubles’ll soon be over—undoubtedly they’ll put up a monnyment to my memory—I’ve got the description all ready for it—it says:

Here sleeps Prissilly P. Bedott,

Late relic of Hezekier,

How mellancolly was her lot!

How soon she did expire!

She didn’t commit self-suicide,

’Twas tribbilation killed her;

O, what a pity she hadn’t a died

Afore she saw the elder!

And O, Elder, you’ll visit my grave, won’t ye, and shed tew or three tears over it? ’Twould be a consolation tew me tew think you would.

E. S. In case I should ever have occasion to journey through that section of the country, and could consistently with my arrangements make it convenient to tarry for a short time at Wiggleton, I assure you it would afford me much pleasure to visit your grave, agreeably to your request.

W. B. O, Elder, how onfeelin’!

E. S. Unfeeling! did I not understand you correctly when I understood you to request me to visit your grave?

W. B. Yes, but I don’t see how you could be so carm, when I’m talkin’ about dyin’.

E. S. I assure you, Mrs. Bedott, I had not the slightest intention of manifesting a want of feeling in my remark. I should regard your demise as a most deplorable event, and it would afford me no small degree of satisfaction to prevent so melancholy a catastrophe were it in my power.

W. B. Well, I guess I’ll go hum. If Sally should know you was here a talkin’ with me, she’d make an awful fuss.

E. S. Indeed I see no reason to fear that my domestic should interfere in any of my proceedings.

W. B. O, lawful sakes! how numb you be, elder! I didn’t allude to Sal Blake—I meant Sal Hugle. She’t you’re ingaged tew.

E. S. Engaged to Miss Hugle! You alarm me, Mrs. Be——

W. B. Now don’t undertake to deny it, Elder; everybody says it’s a fact.

E. S. Well, then, it only remains for me to assert that everybody is laboring under an entire and unmitigated mistake.

W. B. You don’t say so, Elder! Well, I declare, I do feel relieved. I couldn’t endure the idea o’ stayin’ here to see that match go off. She’s so onworthy—so different from what your companion had ort to be—and so lazy—and makes such awful poitry; and then she hain’t worth a cent in the world. But I don’t want to say a word against her; for, if you ain’t ingaged now, mabby you will be. O, Elder! promise me, dew promise me now’t you won’t marry that critter. ’Twould be a consolation to me when I’m far away on my dyin’ bed to know—[She weeps with renewed energy.] O, Elder, I’m afeared I’m a gwine to have the highsterics. I’m subjick to spasmotic affections when I’m excited and overcome.

E. S. You alarm me, Mrs. Bedott! I will hasten to the house and bring the sal volatile, which may restore you.

W. B. For the land’s sake, Elder, don’t go after Sal; she can’t dew nothin’ for me. It’ll only make talk, for she’ll tell it all round the village. Jest take that ar newspaper that sticks out o’ yer pocket, and fan me with it a leetle. There, I feel quite resusticated. I’m obliged tew ye; guess I can manage to get hum now. [She rises.] Farwell, Elder Sniffles! adoo! we part to meet no more!

E. S. Ah, Mrs. Bedott! do not speak in that mournful strain; you distress me beyond all mitigation. [He takes her hand.] Pray reseat yourself, and allow me to prolong the conversation for a short period. As I before observed, your language distresses me beyond all duration.

W. B. Dew you actually feel distressed at the idee o’ partin’ with me?

E. S. Most indubitably, Mrs. Bedott.

W. B. Well, then, what’s the use o’ partin’ at all? O, what have I said? what have I said?

E. S. Ahem—ahaw, allow me to inquire—are you in easy circumstances, Mrs. Bedott?

W. B. Well, not entirely yet, though I feel considerable easier’n what I did an hour ago.

E. S. Ahem! I imagine that you do not fully apprehend my meaning. I am a clergyman, a laborer in the vineyard of the Lord—as such you will readily understand I cannot be supposed to abound in the filthy lucre of this world; my remuneration is small—hence——

W. B. O, Elder, how can you s’pose I’d hesitate on account o’ your bein’ poor? Don’t think on’t—it only increases my opinion of you; money ain’t no objick to me.

E. S. I naturally infer from your indifference respecting the amount of my worldly possessions that you yourself have——

W. B. Don’t be oneasy, Elder, dear—don’t illude tew it again; depend on’t you’re jest as dear tew me, every bit and grain, as you would be if you owned all the mines in Ingy.

E. S. I will say no more about it.

W. B. So I s’pose we’re ingaged.

E. S. Undoubtedly.

W. B. We’re ingaged, and my tribbilation is at an end. [Her head drops on his shoulder.] O, Shadrack! what will Hugelina say when she hears on’t?

Francis M. Whitcher.