Josiah Allen's Wife as a P. A. and P. I.: Samantha at the Centennial. / Designed As a Bright and Shining Light, to Pierce the Fogs of Error and Injustice That Surround Society and Josiah, and to Bring More Clearly to View the Path That Leads Straight on to Virtue and Happiness.

by Marietta Holley

DOIN’ THE MAIN BUILDIN’.

The next mornin’ I told Josiah we would tackle the Main Buildin’; so we follered a lot of folks from our tarvern—another spiked gate turned round with us and let us in, and—and what didn’t that gate let us into? Oh, good land! Oh, dear suz! You may think them words are strong, and express a good deal, but they don’t begin to explain to you how I felt. Why, a hull Dictionary of jest such words couldn’t begin to tell my feelins as I stood there a lookin’ round on each side of me, down that broad, majestic, glitterin’ street full of folks and fountains and glitterin’ stands, and statutes, and ornaments, with gorgeous shops on each side containin’ the most beautiful beauty, the sublimest sublimity, and the very grandest grandeur the hull world affords. I advanced a little ways, and then, not sensin’ it at all, I stopped stun still and looked round me, Josiah kinder drawin’ me along—entirely unbeknown to me. Finally he spoke in a sort of a low, awe-stricken whisper:

“Do come along, Samantha!”

But I still stood stun still, lookin’ round me through the eyes of my specks (Josiah had got the other eye put in), and didn’t sense what he was a sayin’ to me till he spoke again—hunchin’ me hard at the same time: “What is the matter Samantha?”

Says I, in low strange tones, “I am completely dumbfoundered Josiah Allen!”

“So be I,” says he, “but it won’t do to be a blockin’ up the path, and actin’ baulky; it will make talk. Less go along and do as the rest do.” So we walked along. And as my dumbfounder began to leave me, and I recovered the use of my tongue, my first words was:

“Josiah Allen, if I was as young as I once was, and knew I’d live to die of old age, I’d come right here to this village and live, and go through this buildin’ and see the biggest heft of its contents. But at my age, there haint no use of tryin’ to see a half or even a quarter of ’em.”

Says Josiah, “You know Tirzah Ann wanted you to remember what you see here and describe it to her.”

“Good land!” says I, “I might jest as well undertake to divide off the sands of the sea, set ’em off into spans and call ’em by name, and describe the best pints of each on ’em;” says I almost wildly: “if I should undertake the job I should feel so curious that I shouldn’t never git over it, like as not;” says I, “Josiah Allen, when anybody tackles a subject they want a place to take holt, or leggo; it makes ’em feel awful not to have neither.”

Why, if you’d lift up your head a minute to kind o’ rest your eyes, you would see enough to think on for a hull natural life. Havin’ in all the emergencies of life found it necessary to stand firm, and walk even, and straight forred, I laid out to take the different countries on the north side, and go through ’em, and then on the south side, go through ’em coolly and in order, and with calmness of spirit. But long before I had gone through with the United States, my mind was in a state it had never been in before through my hull life. I thought I had felt promiscous in days that was past and gone, but I give up that I never knew the meanin’ of the word before. Why, if there had been a pain of glass put into my mind, and anybody had looked into my feelins through it, they would say if they wasn’t liars that they see a sight long to be remembered; though if they had went to dividin’ off my feelins and settin’ ’em in a row and tellin’ ’em to set still, they would truly have had a tegus time. Why I haint got ’em curbed in, so’s to keep any order now, when I go to thinkin’ about that Main Buildin’.

Instead of travelin’ right through it with dignity, they are jest as likely as anyway to begin right in the centre of that grand buildin’; see that great round platform with broad steps a leadin’ up to it on every side, and that railin’ round it, a fencin’ in the most entrancin’ and heavenly music that ever a earthly quire discoursed upon—music that would rest you when you was tired, and inspire and elevate you into a realm of Pure Delight when you wasn’t. And seein’ way up and up to the ruff, little railins all ornamented off, tear after tear of ’em, and folks in ’em a lookin’ down onto the endless crowd below; and lions and eagles, and stars and stripes, and the honored forms and names of George Washington and B. Franklin up there, to make us feel safe and good. And then all of a sudden entirely unbeknown to me, my mind will work sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Sometimes it will give a jump clear to the west end, and see ornaments, and glass cases, and shinin’ counters with wimmen standin’ behind ’em, and tall jars big enough to preserve my Josiah hull in, if it was the fashion to preserve pardners.

And it wont think things out with any order, or hardly decency; sometimes the next thing after a pulpit I’ll think of a dragon; and then mebby I’ll think of a thermomiter with the quick silver a tryin’ to git out at the top to walk out to cool itself, and the next thing a Laplander covered with fur, and a sled; it beats all. There is no use tellin’ what I did see, but I could tell what I didn’t see in half a minute. I can’t think now of but one thing that I didn’t see and that is butternuts, though truly, I might have seen bushels, and not sensed ’em.

Why, along at first when I was a beginnin’ my tower through the United States, I would be fearfully surprised at the awfully grand and beautiful things; but before noon I got so that I wasn’t surprised at nothin’, and Josiah couldn’t make me, though he hunched me several times, a tryin’ to surprise me, and couldn’t. Why, I’d think I had come to an end of the grandeur and glory; it must be there couldn’t be any more, and I’d git my specks all ready to rest off for a minute—when I’d kinder grope round a little, and out I’d come again into another room full to overflowin’ of splendor and beauty. Why, once I come out into a room that had six high pillows in the form of palm trees with long scalloped leaves towerin’ clear up to the ruff, which was ornamented off with vines and flowers, and the counters was all covered with raised work, representin’ the gatherin’ of flowers and the extraction of their perfumes, and two noble silver-plated gold-tipped fountains, sprayin’ out sweetness; why, no posy bed I ever smelled of could compare with that room.

And then there was a beautiful pavilion all trimmed off with flowers; and in the centre, one of the likeliest lookin’ fountains I ever did see, with four different perfumes a jettin’ out, and round each spray a design showin’ what kind it was. And each one was more perfectly fragrant and beautiful than the other (as it were). I told Josiah I wished Shakespeare Bobbet could jest step in here; I guessed he never would use peppermint essence again on his handkerchief. When he used to come to see Tirzah Ann, he always would scent up high with peppermint or cinnamon; he smelt like a apothecary.

But I kep’ a lookin’ round, and oh, such sights of pianos and organs as I did see; it beat all. Why, there was one parlor organ with twenty-eight stops to it. Says I, “Josiah Allen what do you think of that?” Josiah had seen so much he was a gittin’ cross, and he said he had heerd folks play when he would have been thankful to have had one stop to it, if they had used it. And such iron and steel works; why we see a rod over a mile long. And there was one lock that they said had four billion changes to it. Josiah told me he had jest as good a mind as he ever had to eat, to stop and count ’em, for he didn’t believe there was three billions in it if there was two. And there was safes, large enough to lock up my Josiah in—who is indeed by far the most valuable ornament I possess—and teeth, and artificial eyes. There was one big black eye, that Josiah said he would buy if he was able.

Says I, “What under the sun would you do with it Josiah Allen?”

“Oh,” says he, “it might come handy sometime, I am liable to accidents.”

“Why,” says I, “your eyes are as blue as indigo.”

“Well,” says he, “I always liked black eyes, and that is such a awful smart lookin’ eye, it would give anybody such a knowin’ look.”

I told him I guessed he would look knowin’; I guessed he would know it when he went round with one black eye, and one blue one. I didn’t encourage the idee. He looked wishful at it to the last, and he has said sense, that that was the smartest lookin’ eye he ever see in his life.

And such sights and sights of glass ware, and crystal fountains. I told Josiah that I had sung about ’em all my life, but never did I expect to see one. But I did, here it was; handsomer than song could sing. About three feet from the floor was a basin twelve feet wide, and round this, seventy-two cut glass vases for flowers, and four pillows havin’ twelve lights and four more for flowers. In the centre column half way up, was the most beautiful crystal ornaments and doins you ever see, with burnin’ jets inside; and over all was a dome held up by three columns, topped off with spread eagles. The age of this dome was all trimmed off with red, white, and blue, and under it was the Goddess of Liberty standin’ on the globe. There is between three and four thousand pieces of glass in this fountain—so they told me—and they said it was the nicest one in the world; and I told ’em I didn’t dispute it, for I had travelled round a good deal, and I never see the beat on’t. And here it was that I got agitated and frightened; skairt most to death, and I wont deny it. I was a walkin’ along, cool as a cluster cucumber at sunrise, and as calm, when I looked up and thinks’es I, there comes a woman that looks jest like the Smiths; thinks’es I, she looks jest like me, only not quite so good lookin’. I stopped completely dumbfoundered, and she stopped also in dumbfounder. I looked her in the face with a almost wild mean, and her mean looked almost wild.

I give right up that she was a Smith, and then realizin’ what sort of a tower it was that I was on, I knew it was my place to make the first move towards gittin’ acquainted with her; so I made her a low curchy, and she made me a low curchy. And then I walked right up and held out my hand to her, and she walked right up to me a holdin’ out her hand. Says I, “Who you be mom, I don’t know, but I believe my soul you are one of the Smiths, for you look as near like me as two peas, only you are a little fleshier than I be, and not quite so light complected.” But what the next move would have been I don’t know if all of a sudden right over her shoulder I hadn’t seen the face of my Josiah, and I knew he was the other side of me. Cold shivers run over my back, when I felt a hand a seizin’ and a holdin’ of me back, and the voice of Josiah a sayin’:

“What under the heavens Samantha, are you a tryin’ to walk through that lookin’-glass for?”

ONE OF THE SMITH FAMILY.

I see then where I was, and says I in faint axents: “Josiah Allen, I should have been through it in a minute more;” and I should. I told him I was most glad it took place, for it truly seemed as if he renewed his age, it pleased him so. But he stopped it pretty sudden, for he had a little incident happen to him, that made him pretty shy about pokin’ fun at me. The way on’t was, he had been sick all one night, and the next day he got so tired out that he said he guessed he would git into one of those rollin’ chairs a few moments to rest him. He whispered to me that he shouldn’t ride out but seven cents and a half, which would be only half a quarter of an hour. I whispered back to him that it would look small in him, and if I was in his place, I would ride a quarter of an hour, or not try to ride at all. But he whispered back to me, firm as brass, that seven cents worth and a half was all he should ride and that was more than he could afford. And knowin’ well he was close, but honest, I didn’t argue no more. He didn’t tell the man, for fear he wouldn’t want the bother for so little while.

That was the last I see of Josiah Allen for five hours and a half. He promised to meet me at a certain time and place, and I was skairt nearly to death. And I don’t know as I should ever have seen him again, if I hadn’t happened to meet him face to face. There he was a layin’ back fast asleep, and that man had been a rollin’ him round for five hours and a half by the clock, through the different worlds, and he not sensin’ a thing—sleepin’ jest as sweet in front of them horrible antediluvian monsters, and the crockydiles, as before calico and bobinet lace—treatin’ ’em all alike, snorin’ at the hull of ’em. I s’pose he had dropped to sleep the minute I left him, not sleepin’ any the night before. I catched right holt of his arm, and says to the man: “Stop instantly! it is my pardner that you are a rollin’ on; it is a sleepin’ Josiah.”

JOSIAH’S RIDE IN A CHAIR

I declare, the man looked almost as foolish as Josiah, only Josiah’s mean had agony on it; and as he paid out the 3 dollars and 30 cents, his sithes were more like groans than common sithes. I haint heerd a word sense from Josiah Allen about my walkin’ through a lookin’ glass in search of a Smith.

JOSIAH’S FIVE HOURS’ RIDE.

We then went into Mexico and found it was a noble lookin’ Nation, considerable on the castle plan; trimmed off handsome at the top with several open places filled with statutes, and large minerals, and some of the handsomest plants I ever see. It seemed to have everything it needed to git along with.

But what was as interestin’ to me as anything, was a great stone, weighin’ about four thousand pounds, that fell right down out of some other world, landin’ on ours, down in Mexico. Oh! what emotions I had in lookin’ at it and thinkin’ if I only knew what that stun knew, I should be a sight to behold. But I knew the stun wouldn’t speak up and tell me anything about the world he had come from, or how he happened to start off alone, or whether he liked our world better than he did hisen, or anything, if I stood there till the next Sentinal.

And then we went in under a lofty arch, with curtains, and tassels, and banners, and lions, and crosses, and so 4th into Netherlands. And right there in the vestibule was pictures and drawin’s and models; showin’ plain what awful hard work they do have to keep their land from drowndin’; dretful interestin’ it must be to inebriate drunkards there, seein’ what strong barriers they have raised up between them and the water.

And we see a little brick house, with part of the thatched roof left open so you could see right down into the house; and a eatin’ house with little folks settin’ to the table, and some East India curiosities as curious as any curiosities I ever laid eyes on. And then we travelled over into Brazil. I always knew Brazil was a noble Nation, but never, never did I imagine it was trimmed and ornamented off to such an extent. We went right in boldly under the ornaments and trimmins, and truly we did see enough to pay us for our trouble; there was flowers made out of the most brilliant feathers you ever see. Why I had s’posed old Hail the Day’s feathers was shinin’; I’ve seen ’em look perfectly gorgeous to me when he was standin’ round on one foot at the back door a crowin’ and the sun was a shinin’ down on him; but good land! what was his feathers compared to these. And then we see the big topaz, brilliant and clear as well-water almost, sunthin’ the size of a goose egg—s’posen she, the goose, laid almost square eggs. And oh! if I only had a goose that laid such eggs, how well off I could git in one season if she done well; it is worth 150,000 dollars. And we see a sun dial fixed so the sun fired off a cannon every day at noon. Josiah said he never see the beat on’t, to think the sun should be willin’ to do such work for anybody—hire out to do day’s works (as it were.) But I says, “if anybody could git him at it, it is Mr. Pedro;” says I, “it don’t surprise me, that without makin’ any fuss about it, or boastin’ a mite, he has got the sun so it will fire off cannons for him or anything; it is jest like him.” Says I, “Some monarchs are obleeged to wear a crown instead of a hat, and hold out a septer in their hand to make anybody mistrust they are kings. But it haint so with him; his royalty haint put on the outside, it is inherient in him, and works out from his heart and soul.”

A TRIP THROUGH THE WORLD

I should have went on about him considerable more,—I have such a deep honor and respect, and such a strong (meetin’ house) regard for him—but Josiah looked so restless and worrysome. He haint a jealous hair on the top of his head, (nor a hair of any description) but he worships me so, I s’pose it gauls him to see me praise up any other man; so we moved on and made a short tower into Belgium, and see their laces—I don’t believe there is such splendid laces in the hull world as I see there, and they call ’em Brussels laces; mebby they be, but I don’t believe it; anyway they haint made out of hog’s brussels; that I know; and I told Josiah I knew it, and he said he did, or else they was different from any brussels he ever see—why you never see anything so perfectly fine and beautiful; the very nicest bobinet lace that Mother Smith ever made into a cap border couldn’t compare with the poorest of it. Jest one lace dress cost 7,000 dollars, and I wouldn’t have made it for a cent less for anybody, even if they had found their own brussels. But where under the sun they ever found such brussels is a mystery to me, and to Josiah—we have talked it over lots of times sense.

And then we made a short call in Switzerland. She wasn’t so big or trimmed off inside so much as some of the Nations. Her show cases was quaker color, made up plain, but they looked well. And oh! such watches as I did see there, and such music boxes! There was one elegant lookin’ one that played thirtysix tunes, and Josiah said he’d love to buy it, for he believed if he practiced enough, he could play on it first-rate. That man has a awful good opinion of himself—by spells; says he: “Don’t you believe Samantha, that by tendin’ right to it, and givin’ my mind up to it, I could learn?”

Says I dryly, “If you knew enough to play well on a fannin’ mill, or a grindstun you probably could.”

And then we went back into the Main Aisle, that broad, and glitterin’ highway, full of folks—for as big a crowd as you would see through all the Nations, you would always find a bigger one here, of Yankeys, Turkeys, German, Dutch, Tunicks, Jappaned men and Chinee, of all sizes, and every sex—and sot out for France. And truly if I hadn’t give up bein’ surprised long before, this place would have been the ruination of me. Why, if it hadn’t been for a little episode that took place there, I don’t know but I should be a wanderin’ round there now. It beats all how the French race can look right down through even the useful, and see beauty in it, or make it. You could see everything there, from a necklace worth forty thousand dollars, to a clay pipe; from a little gold bird that sings every half hour by the watch, up to Virgins, and sweet faced Madonnas and saints; and the Shepherds and wise men worshippin’ the infant Christ in a stable, with real straw in the manger, and real hay in the oxen’s rack. But good land! there’s no use tryin’ to tell what was there. I couldn’t do it if I talked my tongue off, so I wont try.

I was a settin’ down in the centre of the room on as soft a lounge as I ever sot on, a lookin’ at the perfectly gorgeous and wonderful display of silks and velvets a displayin’ themselves to me, when a good lookin’ feller and girl come in, and sot down by me, and they was a talkin’ over the things they had seen, and I a mindin’ my own business, when the young feller spoke up, and says he to the girl:

“Have you seen John Rogers goin’ to the Parson, to git married?”

“No,” says she.

“Well,” says he, “you ort to.”

I turned right round and give that young feller a look witherin’ enough to wither him, and says I: “That is a pretty story to tell to wimmen, that you have seen John Rogers goin’ to the Parson to git married.”

“I did see it,” says he, jest as brazen as a brass candlestick.

Says I firmly, “You didn’t.”

Says he, “I did.”

Says I with dignity, “Don’t you tell me that again, or I’ll know the reason why. You never see John Rogers a goin’ to git married. John was burnt up years ago; and if he wasn’t, do you think he was a man to go and try to git married again when he had a wife and nine childern, and one at the breast? Never! John Rogers’es morals was sound; I guess it will take more than you to break ’em down at this late day.”

The young feller’s face looked awful red and he glanced up at the young woman and tried to turn it off in a laugh and says he:

“This is John Rogers Jr., old John Rogers’es boy.”

“Why how you talk!” says I in agitated tones:

“Which one is it; is it the one at the breast?”

“No!” says he. “It is the seventh boy, named after his father. I am well acquainted with him,” says he takin’ out his watch: “I have an appointment to meet him in about half an hour, and I’ll introduce you to him. You’d love to see his ‘Goin’ to the Parson,’ it is a beautiful statute.”

“Oh,” says I, “then he is a Statuary by trade! why didn’t you say so in the first on’t.”

“Yes,” says he, “he has got beautiful ones, and we will both go with you;” and he smiled again at her, and she smiled back at him. My mind was all took up and agitated at the idee of seein’ the son of that noble maytyr, my elevator over Betsey, the Widder and other sufferin’s. I told Josiah I would be back again in a few moments, and then I told the young feller I was ready to go with ’em; and presently I stood in the United States again, a lookin’ at some beautiful little statutes.

John Rogers Jr. wasn’t there when we arrived, and so I went to admirin’ his statutes. They was perfectly beautiful, though middlin’ small sized, and they all had clothes on, which was a surprise to me, and indeed a treat. The young couple comin’ to the Parson, looked first-rate, though considerable sheepish. And there was the “Favored Scholar,” lookin’ pretty and important, and the little boy, who I persume got whipped several times a day, makin’ up a face at her, jest as natural. And there was “We Boys,” on the horse’s back—goin’ after the cows, mebby; you could almost smell the clover blows, and the sweet hay a blowin’ down the lane, and almost hear the tinklin’ of the cow bell way off in the age of the woody pasture; the boys faces told the hull story. And then there was the confederate lady with the sick child, “Drawin’ Rations” of the triumphant North. All the pride of a long race of proud ancestors looked out of her sad eyes, as she came to take charity of her conqueror; but it was done for love’s sake—you could see that too, and that makes hard things easy. It is a middlin’ quiet influence, but it is more powerful in movin’ folks than a earthquake. And then there was the “Tap on the Window,” and “Rip Van Winkle,” and others; and before I had got half through admirin’ of ’em, a good lookin’ man come along that seemed awful tickled to see the feller and girl with me, and they laughed and whispered to each other real friendly, and then the young chap says he: “Allow me to introduce you Madam, to my friend John Rogers Jr.”

Says I, in tones tremblin’ with emotion: “How do you do, John Rogers Jr., I’ll make you acquainted with Josiah Allen’s wife;” and then I made a low curchy and shook hands with him, and says I, “I am all well, and hope you are the same.” And then politeness bein’ attended to, I spoke out and says I:

“John Rogers Jr., you haint no idee how I have been admirin’ your statutes, not only on account of their wonderful beauty, but on the account of your honored father. Your father, John Rogers Jr., was one of the noblest men I ever got acquainted with—in a history way, I mean. Folks may think they have got sound, well-seasoned principles that will stand most any strain, but I tell you, let anybody be sot fire to, and that will show what stuff they are made of.” Says I, “I have heerd folks tell about gittin’ up and bearin’ the cross, in a room all carpeted off, and jest warm enough for comfort; I never loved to hear it, for if that means anything, it means bearin’ the hull sin and sorrows of the world, the agony and despair, when earth destroyed and Heaven seemed to have forgotten. It means a good deal; I’ve heerd folks talk about bearin’ their cross in gittin’ up and exhortin’ folks, when you couldn’t tie ’em down they wanted to git up and talk so awful bad, and you couldn’t stop ’em, when they got at it. Why, to look round on the congregation sometimes, you would think if there was any agony about it, the hearers was the ones a sufferin’ of it. It is all right to talk in meetin’; I have heerd them that I had jest as lives hear as any minister—tender, simple messages that come straight from a good lovin’ Christian heart, and went to other hearts, jest like a arrer from a bo.”

But I never loved to hear folks say they was bearin’ a cross when they wasn’t. I say it is jest as bad to tell a wrong story in a meetin’-house as in a barn, or a sugar bush. I have heerd these same folks git up and say they was willin’ to die off that minute for the Lord’s sake, and after meetin’ I would ask ’em to give 25 cents to help God’s poor—work He left below for His childern to do in His name, and not a cent could I git from ’em. They was willin’ to bear the cross for Him with their tongue, and die off for Him with the same, in conference meetin’; but when it come to lendin’ the Lord 25 cents, this they truly felt was askin’ too much of ’em. And then I had my own idees whether they was really willin’ to die off, and I had my own mind too whether I was willin’ to have ’em. When they was baptized they left their pocket books to home, in the stand draw, but they ort to have been baptized too—all over by immersion.

“When the Lord gives a person health and strength to enjoy the beautiful world he placed him in, and powers to labor for Him and for humanity, I don’t believe He requires at the same time dyin’ grace of em. He wants them to have livin’ grace, and use it. They ort to be willin’ to live, which is a great deal harder sometimes. But truly, I was drawed into this episodin’ by comparin’ your honored father in my mind with these I have named. If they won’t give 25 cents for their religion, what would they say if they had to give what your father gave. His principle and religion bore the flames of agony and death and wasn’t burnt up—they couldn’t make a fire hot enough.” John put his handkerchief to his face and I see he was dretfully affected, so I bid him a almost tender good-bye and jined my pardner, and we went into England.

INTRODUCED TO JOHN ROGERS JR.

I took a sight of comfort in my tower through Great Britain, a seein’ her noble doins and meditatin’ how well off she was, and how she has prospered. Of course I can’t help feelin’ a little parshal to America, but the old lady country seems awful near to me; I think a sight of her. You can’t tear up a tree and set it out in a new place without leavin’ lots of little roots in the old soil; a mother and daughter can’t be parted away from each other without lots of memories and affections clingin’ round each other’s heart. Now, after I left Mother Smith’s and had a home of my own, I was always glad to see Mother Smith have things for her comfort; the more dresses and housen stuff she had, the better I liked it. And so it was with me and England, I didn’t feel a bit hurt because she seemed so well off; not a bit. Her display that she displayed to the Sentinal was next to our own in size and grandeur. It was beyond all description, so fur beyond, that description couldn’t think of catchin’ up, but would set right down.

I will merely mention one thing, a statute of the Saviour holdin’ a child in his arms, “Safe in the arms of Jesus;” it was beautiful, extremely so; it almost brought tears to my eyes it was so affectin’.

And then we went to India, Josiah and me did; almost the oldest country in the world, and exceedingly curious. Here we see some of the most fine and delicate store clothes I ever laid eyes on; I could have hid a hull muslin dress of thirty-five yards in Josiah’s vest pocket, if it would have been right so to do, and nobody would have mistrusted he was carryin’ off a thing. Why, a double thickness hangin’ over my Josiah wouldn’t hinder me from seein’ my pardner a particle; and then we see dresses of the lower class, all made ready to put on; fourteen yards of cloth in a straight strip. Them wimmen don’t fool away their time on boddis waists and overskirts.

Then we went through the hull of the British Colonies, stopped in front of the hull of ’em, treated ’em all friendly and alike. Then we tackled a hull lot of Islands, sailed round the hull of ’em from Victoria to New Zealand. While travellin’ through the last named, I clung to Josiah’s arm almost mekanically, though I knew his small weight by the steelyards, (one hundred pounds, mostly bones) was in his favor. We see there the skeleton of the great wingless bird Moa, bigger than the ostridge; by their tell, the eggs would be splendid for cookin’. Seven by ten—one biled egg would be enough for a large family. I asked ’em if they s’posed I could git a couple of eggs; I thought if I could, I would set three or four hens on ’em and a goose or two, and git a flock started.

And in Bermuda we see amongst lots of other things, some brain coral. And as the poet truly saith, “Every part strengthens a part,” I thought what a interestin’ and agreeable food that would be for some people to eat three times a day, till their symptoms was removed. We was travellin’ through the Nations now pretty middlin’ fast, not alone from principle heretofore named, but also from the fact that we had seen so much, that we didn’t see nothin’.

In Sweden my feelins got worked upon to a very affectin’ degree; first I knew, right there in the midst of life, and the brilliant animation of the scene, I see a little coffin and a cradle with a dead baby in it, and leanin’ over it weepin’, as if her heart would break was the afflicted mother; and in a chair nigh by, jest as if it was my Josiah, sot the father lookin’ as if he would sink, with a little girl jest about the age of Tirzah Ann when I married her pa, a standin’ by him. A man, a minister I thought by his looks stood by ’em, but not a woman nigh ’em, nobody offerin’ to do a thing for ’em, and they in a strange land. I walked right up to ’em and says I in a tremblin’ voice:

“You are a stranger to me, mom, but I see you are in deep trouble, and the hand of sorrow draws hearts that was wide apart close together, and the voice of pity and sympathy speaks through every language under the sun. Can I do anything to help you mom? If I can, command me do it, for I feel for you,” says I drawin’ out my white cotton handkerchief and wipin’ my eyes, “I too am a stepmother.”

She didn’t say nothin’; I see grief was overcomin’ of her, and I turned to him and says I, “If I can be of any use to you sir, if there is any preparations to make, I stand willin’ and ready to make ’em.”

He didn’t say nothin’; so I says to the minister: “Respected sir, I see this afflicted family is perfectly overcome with their feelins; but I want ’em to know when they come to and realize things, that if they need help I stand ready to help ’em. Will you tell ’em so?”

He didn’t answer me a word; and thinks’es I, there haint but one more step that I can take to show my good will, and I says to the little girl in tender tones:

“Come to Aunt Samantha sissy, your poor pa is feelin’ awfully.” And I took holt of her hand, and there it was, nothin’ but a dumb figger, and there they all was, nothin’ but dumb figgers! And as I took a realizin’ sense of it, I was a dumb figger myself (as it were), for most a minute I stood in deep dumbfounder—not shame, for my words had sot out from good motives, and the home of principle. But I put my handkerchief in my pocket and started along; Experience keeps a good school. There was more than twenty other figgers that I should have tackled as sure as the world, if I hadn’t come right out of that school kep’ by E. And in Norway I persume I should have asked that Laplander in a sledge, some questions about his own country; if reindeers was profitable as horses, or if he didn’t think a cutter would be easier goin’, or sunthin’. But as it was, I passed ’em with a mean almost marble for composure. I had had an idee that Sweden and Norway was sort o’ hangin’ back in the onward march of the Nations; why, I almost thought they was a settin’ down; but I see my ignorance; they are a keepin’ up nobly with Jonesville and the world.

And then we, Josiah and me, went off into Italy, and there see more carved wood-work, perfectly wonderful, some of it; and jewelry and furniture, and statutes. There was one of David—I never see David look any better—and then there was one small statute of Dante. I wasn’t formally acquainted with Dante myself, but I have heerd Thomas J. read about him a sight. Oh what troubles that man went through. It was very interestin’ and agreeable to me to form his acquaintance here, (as it were.)

And then, not wantin’ to slight nobody, we made a short tower, a very short one, through the Argentine Republic, though the news never had got to Jonesville—I never heerd in my life that there was such a Nation till I see its name wrote out. And there we see minerals, and shawls, and so 4th, and so 4th. Hearin’ that Peru was right back of it, and feelin’ that I would ruther lose a dollar bill than to have Peru feel slighted, we made ’em a short visit. I hadn’t been there two moments before I told Josiah that I’d ruther have run the risk of hurtin’ her feelins than to have gone near her, if I had had any idee what I was a goin’ to see.

I can truly say without lyin’ that they had the very humbliest skulls there that I ever did see. There haint any too much beauty in common skulls, but these were truly hegus. And such relics of humbliness; such awful lookin’ water-jars—how anybody could ever drink a drop of water out of ’em is a mystery to me. And such fearfully humbly mummys; there was eight on ’em, some with their knees drawd up to their breasts, and some in other postures, but every one on ’em enough to scare a cast-iron man—Josiah groaned aloud as he looked at ’em. I told him we ort to bear up under the sight as well as we could, for they was interestin’ from the fact that they was dug up out of old tombs and mounds.

But he groaned again louder than ever, and says he, “What made ’em dig ’em up?” Says he, “If they had been on my land, I’d ruther give a dollar than to have had ’em dug out where I could see ’em.”

I got Josiah out as quick as I could for I see them mummys and relics had overcome him so. I hurried him out, for I was afraid he would git completely unstrung, and I knew if he should, I was too afflicted with horror myself to try to string him up again. So we went back still further, into Orange, for I told Josiah I would be glad enough to git a couple of fresh oranges, for we both needed refreshin’ after what we had passed through. But I didn’t see an orange there, though I see some noble ostridge feathers, and diamonds, and wheat, and elephant tusks, and cream of tartar vegetable, and so 4th, and etcetery; and then we went right off into China.

I told Josiah it would look friendly in us to pay considerable attention to China, they bein’ neighbors of ours, (their land joins our farm I s’pose, on the underside.) Some folks think that this is the most strikin’ Nation to the Sentinal, but I don’t know as it struck me much harder than Japan did—they both dealt my mind fearful blows. We entered into this country through a tall noble gateway of carved wood painted in dark colors, with the roof turned up, and trimmed off with dragons like tea-chests and pagodas, and all other Chinese public structures. And the show cases was on the same plan, all fixed off with such curious figgers; and curious is no name for what we see there. Such carvin’s of wood and ivory; why there was a hull meetin’ house, most all steeple, seven or eight stories high, with bells a hangin’ from every one of ’em. This meetin’ house was all fenced in with trees in the door yard, and men and wimmen a walkin’ up to the house of Joss. The hull thing was carved out of ivory. I almost disputed the eye of my spectacles as I see it. And then there was a hull procession of ivory Mandarins, meanderin’ along; and balls within balls, fifteen in number, the outside one bein’ not much bigger than a hen’s egg, and every one of ’em carved with the most exquisite vines and flowers. How they ever done it is a mystery to me, and so it is to Josiah.

And then such splendid though extremely curious furniture as we see here; there was seven elegant pieces which was made of mahogony, trimmed off beautifully with whitewood and ivory; each piece was about the height of a table, and the seven could be formed into seven thousand shapes. Anybody could change ’em into a new article of furniture every day for twenty years. For a restless woman that is always movin’ round her bedstead and buro, and parlor table, these would be indeed refreshin’ and agreeable housen stuff. And there was a four thousand dollar bedstead, all ornamented and embellished with different sorts of dragons, and other interestin’ reptiles. There was sights of work on it. I haint got a bedstead in my house, that there is half the work on; but I have got them that I believe my soul I could sleep in as well again, for there was so many animals of different kinds a creepin’ up, and lookin’ down from overhead, and crawlin’ along the sides, that, thinks’es I to myself, after layin’ on it for several days, a nite mair would be almost a treat. I don’t say that the mair would look so curious, but she would be a sort of a rarity.

IN THE CHINESE DEPARTMENT

But if I had disputed the eye of my spectacle in China, what could I say to ’em in Japan. Such nicety of work, such patience and long sufferin’ as must have gone into their manufactorys. Why there was a buro, black and gold, with shelves and draws, and doors hung with gold and silver hinges, and every part of that buro clear to the backside of the bottom draw, was nicer, and fixed off handsomer than any handkerchief pin. They asked four thousand five hundred dollars for it, and it was worth it; I wouldn’t make it for a cent less, and so I told the Jappaned man that showed it off to us. Though, as I said to him, bein’ a literary woman doin’ my own housework, and off on towers of principle every little while, it wasn’t much likely I should ever git time to make one.

THE CHINESE DEPARTMENT.

I was jest lookin’ admirinly at a tall noble tea-pot, when a woman dressed up awful slick says to me: “Did you ever see such rare and lovely articles of virtu?”

Says I coolly, “I have seen jest as virtuous tea-pots as that is, though,” says I, “I don’t know a thing ag’inst its character, and persume it is as likely a tea-pot as tea was ever steeped in; but I don’t know as it is any more so.”

Says she, “You didn’t understand me Madam; I said they were rare articles of virtu.”

Says I firmly, and with dignity, “I heerd you the first time; but I differ with you mom. I don’t think virtuous tea-pots are rare, I never was one to be a mistrustin’ and lookin’ out for meanness so much as some be. I never should think of mistrustin’ a tea-pot or sugar bowl no more than I should my Josiah, and I should jest as soon mistrust a meetin’ house as him.”

She looked me full in the face in a sort of a wonderin’ way, and started off. I guess she didn’t know much, or mebby she made a blunder. I know I never heerd anybody talk about stunware bein’ virtuous in my hull life before. But folks will git things wrong sometimes; I persume I should myself if I wasn’t so awful careful what I said and who I said it to.

After she went off I went to lookin’ at the bronzes. Never before did I feel on such intimate terms with dragons, and cranes, and storks. Why I felt as if I knew ’em like sisters.

There was one vase higher than my Josiah, that the handles of it was clear dragons, and nothin’ else, and a row of wimmen a dancin’ round it, each one carryin’ a rose in her hand bigger than her head, and up the sides of it was foxes in men’s clothes. And the handles of another vase was a flock of birds settlin’ down on a rock, with a dragon on it, and on top of it a eagle a swoopin’ down onto a snake. There was the most lovely blue and white vases as tall again as my pardner, with gold dragons on ’em; and scarlet and green vases with sandy complected dragons on ’em. Oh, how well acquainted I did git with ’em! I told Josiah I almost wished we could buy a span of ’em to take home with us, to remember Japan by, for she is a example to follow in lots of things. Her patriotism, her enthusiasm in learnin’ is a pattern for Jonesville and other Nations of the world to foller. Better behaved, well-meaniner little men than them Jappaned men (though dark complexioned) I don’t want to see; they are truly gentlemen. To see ’em answerin’ questions so patient and polite, impudent questions and foolish ones and everything, and they a bearin’ it, and not losin’ their gentle ways and courtesy, not gettin’ fractious or worrysome a mite; I hunched Josiah to take notice, and says I, “Josiah Allen you might set at their feet and learn of ’em with advantage to you. China and Japan are both queer, but Japan’s queerness has a imaginative artistic quirl to it that China’s queerness don’t have. Truly the imaginations of them Jappaned men must be of a size and heft that we can hardly realize.”

Leavin’ Japan, I told Josiah I guessed we would not go to Denmark, and he said he might live through it, and he might not, he was so near starved. But he hadn’t hardly got into that country when all of a sudden he laid holt of me and pulled me out one side, and says he:

“Look out my dear Samantha, or you’ll git hurt.”

I looked up and I was most startled for a minute myself, for a man stood there holdin’ a great stun over his head, a lookin’ down as if he was a goin’ to throw it right at our heads. But in a minute I says, “It is a statute, Josiah, it wont hurt us.”

And he cooled down; he hadn’t called me “dear Samantha” before, for over fourteen years; but truly danger is a blister that draws love to the outside. He almost worships me, but like other married men, he conceals it a good deal of the time. His affectionate mean had softened up my own feelins too, so I didn’t stay to Denmark only jest long enough to see some very beautiful crockery, and a large collection of exceedinly curious curiosities from Greenland, and then Josiah and me (at his request) went and took a lunch at a little tarvern right in the buildin’.

I felt kinder disappointed about not stayin’ no longer in Denmark, on account of Hamlet (he come from that neighborhood, you know) and I always did think so much of him, and Ophelia too. I have often heerd Thomas J. read about ’em; and I’ve always thought if they had been let alone they would have done well, for she seemed to think everything of him, and he of her. I got to thinkin’ over her affection and her disappointment while I was eatin’ my dinner. Thinks’es I, love is too sacred and holy a emotion to be dickered and fooled with; it is a great emotion, and ort to be treated greatly and reverently; but their haint a single emotion in the hull line of emotions that is so meddled and fooled round with as this is. Folks that have it seem to be ashamed of it, and other folks make fun of ’em for havin’ it. Curious! you haint ashamed of havin’ gratitude, or pity, or generosity in your heart, and other folks don’t make light of you for havin’ ’em; but when it comes to love, which is the holiest of all, the shadder of the Infinite, the symbol of all that is heavenly and glorious, the brightest reflection we catch on earth of the Divine Nature, folks giggle at it and snicker; curious, very! But I always felt sorry for Ophelia and Hamlet.

Then we sot sail for Egypt. There was a heavy lookin’ wall and gateway, and on each side was a big square column, or pillow, though some tippin’. Over the gate was the flags of Egypt and the United States, green and yeller, red, white, and blue, minglin’ together jest as friendly as the green earth, and red and yeller sunsets, with stars a shinin’ through ’em ever did; and some of the curiousest lookin’ writin’ I ever did see. On each side, amongst lots of other ornaments and things, was two as ancient lookin’ females as I ever see on a bust, and these words printed out in good noble writin’: “The oldest people of the world sends its morning greeting to the youngest Nation.”

As we went in, two Egyptians met us, dressed in their national costume, as loose and baggy as a meal bag, and Josiah looked admirinly at ’em, and says he, “How remarkable they do hold their age, Samantha; they don’t look much older than I do;” and says he in a still more respectful tone, “they must be pretty nigh onto two hundred.”

“What makes you think so, Josiah Allen?” says I.

“Why” says he “you see it wrote out there ‘the oldest people in the world’, and we have ’em here over a hundred.”

Says I, “Josiah Allen if it wasn’t for me how little your tower would elevate you, and inform you;” says I, “it don’t mean them, it means most probable them old wimmen up there on a bust, or mebby it means old sphynx—the old lady who takes care of the pyramids—you know she is old as the hills, and older than lots of ’em.”

Says he “I wonder if that is her handwritin’ clear up over the gateway! I should think she was old by that; I should jest as lives go down to the creek and read duck’s tracks and slate stuns.”

And we see a bust of Pharioh, who was drownded in the Red Sea. A good lookin’ man for one that was twenty-two hundred and fifty years old, and was plagued so much, and went through with what he did. And in another room of the Court we see the man that built one of the pyramids, Cephenes by name,—a feller six thousand years old. Good land! As I looked on him, I felt as if Josiah and me was two of the very smallest drops in a mighty ocian that hadn’t no beginnin’ nor no endin’, no bottom and no shore. I felt almost choked up, and exceedinly curious. From Egypt we went straight into Turkey, and there we saw lots of beautiful articles them Turkeys had made out of olive-wood, and etcetery. We saw pipes with long stems for smokin’ water; Josiah said he’d love to try one of ’em, and I believe he would if it hadn’t been for me. There was a Turkish Bazzar on the grounds where they go to smoke ’em; but I told him almost coldly, that he had better go home and smoke the penstock that he draws water with from the canal; and he give up the idee.

And there was handsome silks of all colors; there was one piece of a soft grey color, that I told Josiah I would love dearly to have a dress of it, and after I said that, that man hurried me along so I didn’t hardly see anything—I s’pose he wanted to git the idee out of my head, for he never seemed easy a minute till he got me out of Turkey back into Portugal. I never felt intimately acquainted with this Nation—I knew our port come from Portugal, and that they raised considerable cork—but I found many handsome things there; splendid paper of all sorts, writin’ paper, and elegant bound books, and some printin’ on satin, invitations to bull fights, and other choice amusements. I told Josiah I should think they would have to be printed on satin to git anybody started to ’em. And jest as I was sayin’ this, a good-lookin’ woman says to me: “Splendid stationery, isn’t it?”

I see she had made a blunder and it was my duty to set her right, so says I to her: “I don’t know as it is any more stationery than paper and books commonly is; they are always stationary unless you move ’em round.”

She looked at me sort o’ wonderin’ and then laughed but kep’ her head up as high as ever. It beats all what mistakes some folks will make and not act mortified a mite; but if I should make such blunders I should feel cheap as dirt. Then we took a short tower into Spain, and we found she had trimmed and ornamented herself beautiful. You could stand for hours a lookin’ at the front of this Nation painted to look like colored marble, and all figured off so emblematical and curious. And then we started for Russia, and we see that if any Nation had done well, and put her best foot forred, she had. Such furs as I see there I don’t never expect to see again.

Such awful sights of silks and velvets, and embroideries in gold! There was one man all embroidered in gold that looked splendid, with a crown of the most brilliant jewels on his head, and another shinin’ one on the table by the side of him; and all round in a border was as many as twenty other gold saints; they looked rich. And then there was all sorts of linen and cotton goods and umberells and everything.

And in Austria and Hungary we see beautiful bent wood furniture of all kinds, and the awfulest sight of kid gloves, and chromos, and oil paintins, and musical instruments, and the most beautiful Bohemian glass anybody ever did see. And it was there we see the biggest opal in the world; it is worth 25,000 dollars, and the man told me it weighed six hundred and two carats.

I spoke right up and says I, “They must be awful small carrots then.”

We didn’t argue with him, but we didn’t believe it, Josiah nor I didn’t, for if the carrots was any size at all, six hundred of ’em would have made more’n two bushels. But it was a noble lookin’ stun, and a crowd of wimmen was round it all the while. I declare I admired some of their jewelry fearfully; Josiah see that I did, and with a anxious mean he hurried me off into Germany. And here we see everything, etcetery and so 4th; makin’ one of the nicest displays to the Sentinal—and jewelry, and gold and silver ware, and ivory ware, of all sorts. There was one case containin’ velvet that was made of glass and velvet, the finest case in the hull Main Buildin’.

But now, havin’ gone the rounds of the Nations, and treatin’ ’em all alike, so they couldn’t one of ’em, call me uppish or proud spirited; politeness bein’ attended to and nobody slighted, I told Josiah that I must git out in the open air and rest off the eyes of my spectacles a little, or I didn’t know what the result would be. My head was in a fearful state; I had seen so much, it seemed as if I couldn’t see nothin’, and at the same time I could see everything, right where it wasn’t, or anywhere. Why, when I would look up in my Josiah’s face, it seemed as if I could see right on his forward, dragons, and pulpits, and on that peaceable bald head I could see (as it were) crockydiles, and storks, and handkerchief pins; my mean must have looked bad. So we hurried out through the crowd, and went out under a venerable tree by the side of the path, and sot down; and anon, or about that time, my spectacles begun to be rested off, and I see clearer, and realized things one at a time, more than I had realized ’em. When I come out of that Main Buildin’, everything was mixed up together to a degree that was almost alarmin’.

But the minute Josiah Allen got rested, he was all rousted up with a new idee. He had catched a sight that day of a Photograph Gallery, and nothin’ to do but he must go and have his picture took.

Says he, “I will go and be took Samantha; sunthin’ may happen that we shall have to go home sudden, and I do want to be took before I leave the village, for I shant probable look so dressy, and have so pretty a expression onto me for some time; I shall make a crackin’ good lookin’ picture, Samantha.”

That man is vain! but I didn’t throw it in his face, I only told him almost coldly to be took if he wanted to. And then he beset me to be took too. Says he, “If you will, we will be holt of hands, or lockin’ arms, or any way.”

But I told him firmly, I was on a tower of Right, and though I expected and lotted on sufferin’ and bein’ persecuted as a P. A., I would not suffer as the foolish ones do; I would not, for nothin’, go into a job I dreaded worse than makin’ soap, or bilein’ sap. But, says I, “I will set here and wait for you.”

So he set off to be took, feelin’ awful neat, and sayin’ to me the last thing, what a crackin’ handsome picture he was a goin’ to make.

That man is as vain as a pea-hen! I sot right there peaceful and considerable composed, though it give me solemn feelins to watch the crowd a passin’ by all the time, no two alike, always a movin’ on, never a stoppin’. They seemed like the waves of a river that was surgin’ right on towards a sea whose name is Eternity; oh, how they kep’ a movin’ on! Liberals from Liberia, Tunicks from Tunis, Sandwiches from Sandwich, Oranges from Orange, Turkeys from Turkey and Poles from Poland; white men, and yeller men, and black men, and red men, and brown men. Oh! what a sight it was to see the endless wave and rush a settin’ on and on forever. And as I see ’em,—though in body I was a settin’ there—I too was one of ’em a bein’ carried on, and floatin’ toward the ocian. I seemed to be kinder dizzy, “a ridin’,” as childern say when they set on a bridge and watch the current sweep by; I was one of the waves, and the river was a runnin’ swift.

I MEET OLD ACQUAINTANCES

I hadn’t allegoried (to myself) more than two or three minutes, probable, when I see a form I knew, Jonathan Beans’es ex-wife by name, and a vegetable widow by trade. I rose right up and catched holt of her pin back, and says I, “Jonathan Beans’es ex-wife, how do you do?” she turned round.

“Why Josiah Allen’s wife! is it you?” And we shook hands, and kissed each other, (though I don’t make a practice of it.) And then I told her that Josiah had gone to be took, and I was a waitin’ for him, and she sot right down by me, cousin Bean did. Perhaps you will notice that I say Bean, and not ex-Bean, as formally; she is livin’ with her husband again, so she told me the first thing. Bean has come back, and they are keepin’ a hen dairy in Rhode Island; I asked her if the hens didn’t bother her a fallin’ off in the water, and she said they didn’t; and I told her you couldn’t always tell by the looks of a map how things really was. Then we talked a good deal about the Sentinal, and then I inquired about Miss Astor and the boys; and then we spoke about Alexander, and I told her I felt awful cut down when I heerd he was gone; and then we talked about Alexander’s Widder, and we felt glad to think that it wasn’t likely she would ever be put to it for things to eat or wear, and had a comfortable house to live in, “most a new one,” Miss Bean said.

I told her I was glad she had a house that wouldn’t want shinglin’ right away; it is hard enough to be a Widder without bein’ leaked down on.

And then we meandered off into other friends in the village, and I asked her if Victoria had been cuttin’ up and behavin’?

She said, she guessed my advice had quieted her down. She hadn’t heerd of her actin’ for quite a spell. I felt noble when she told me this, but her very next words made me feel different; I didn’t feel so good as I did. Says she: “Beecher has been talked about some sense you was to the village.”

Says I in a almost dry tone, “I have heerd his name mentioned once or twice durin’ the past few years.”

“I believe he is guilty,” says she with a radiant look.

“Well I don’t,” says I almost warmly. “I don’t believe it no more than I believe my pardner is a drumedary.” And says I firmly, “I will come out still plainer; I don’t believe it no more than I believe Josiah Allen is an ostridge.”

“Oh!” says she with a still more delighted and lively mean, “I never see anybody talked about quite so bad as he has been; and that shows that meetin’ house folks haint no better than common folks.”

Miss Bean is a Nothingarian in good standin’, and loves to see meetin’ house folks brought low; loves it dearly. “Jest think,” says she with that proud and raptuous look on her, “how high he has stood up on a meetin’ house, and how he has been run down it.”

But I interrupted of her by askin’ her this conundrum, in about as cold a tone as they make.

“Miss Bean, which would be apt to have the biggest, blackest shadder at its feet; a mullien stalk, or a meetin’ house?”

“Why, a meetin’ house, of course,” says she.

“Well,” says I, “that is reasonable. I didn’t know,” says I in a very dry tone, “but you would expect to see a shadder as black and heavy as a meetin’ house shadder, a taggin’ along after a mullien stalk. But it wouldn’t be reasonable; the cloud of detraction and envy and malice that follers on at the feet of folks is generally proportioned to their size.” Says I, “Jonathan Beans’es wife, you are not a runnin’ at Henry, you are runnin’ at Religion.”

Says I, “If Christianity can stand ag’inst persecution and martyrdom, if it is stronger than death and the grave, do you s’pose Jonathan Beans’es wife, and the hull Nothingarian church is a goin’ to overthrow it?”

Says I, “Eighteen hundred years ago the unbelievers thought they had hurt it all it could be; they thought they had crucified it, buried it up, and rolled a stun ag’inst it; but it was mightier than death and the grave, it rose up triumphant. And the fires of martyrdom in which they have tried to destroy it ever sense, has only burnt away the chaff; the pure seed has remained, and the waves of persecution in which time and again they have tried to drownd it, has only scattered the seed abroad throughout the world, wafted it to kinder shores: friendlier soils, in which it has multiplied and blossomed a thousand fold more gloriously. And,” says I, “the wave of infidelity that is sweepin’ over it now, will only sweep away the dross, the old dry chaff of dead creeds, superstitions, and bigotry—it can no more harm religion than you can scatter dust on the floor of heaven.”

“Well,” says she, “Sam Snyder’ses wife, she that was Cassandra Bean is a waitin’ for me and I must go.” She looked uneasy, and she told me she would see me the next day, and started off.

And I sot there and waited for Josiah, and when he did come I see he was wore almost completely out, and his mean looked as bad as I ever see a mean look. He didn’t seem to want to talk, but I would make him tell the particulars, and finally he up and told ’em. He said he got into the wrong buildin’—one that had pictures to show off, but didn’t take ’em. But a clever lookin’ feller showed him the way to go to be took, way acrost Agricultural Avenue, and he got into the wrong house there, got into Judges Hall, right where they was a judgin’. He said he never felt so mortified in his life.

“I should think as much,” says I.

But he looked still more deprested, and says he:

“Worse is to come, Samantha.” I see by his looks he had had a tegus time. I see he was completely unstrung, and it was my duty to try to string him up with kindness and sympathy, and so says I almost tenderly, “Tell your pardner all about it Josiah.”

“I hate too,” says he.

Says I firmly, “Josiah, you must.”

“Well,” says he. “I got into another wrong room, where some wimmen was a kinder dressin’ ’em.”

“Josiah Allen!” says I sternly.

“Well, who under the sun would have been a lookin’ out for any such thing. Who would think,” says he with a deeply injured air, “that wimmen would go a prancin’ off so fur from home before they got their dresses hooked up, or anything.”

I knew there was a room there a purpose for ladies to go and fix up in, and I says more mildly—for his mean most skairt me—“I persume there was no harm done Josiah, only most probable you skairt ’em.”

“Skairt ’em!” says he. “I should think so; they yelled like lunys.”

“And what did you say?” says I.

“I told ’em,” says he, “I wanted to be took.”

“And what did they say?” says I, for he would keep a stoppin’ in the particulars.

“Oh! they yelled louder than ever; they seemed to think I was crazy, and a policeman come—”

“And what did you tell him?” says I.

“What could I tell him?” he snapped out. “Of course I told him I wanted to be took, and he said he’d take me, and he did,” says Josiah sadly. Again the particulars stopped, and again I urged him. And says he: “Comin’ out of that room, and down the steps so awful sudden, got my head kinder turned round, and instead of goin’ into the picture room, I went the wrong way and got into the Japan house.”

JOSIAH “BEIN’ TOOK.”

“Did you make any move towards gittin’ me a Japaned dust pan?” I interrupted of him.

“No, I didn’t! I should think I see trouble enough, without luggin’ round dust pans. I told them I wanted to be took, and they didn’t understand me, and I come right out and offered a boy I see there, five cents to git me headed right, and he did it.”

Josiah stopped here, as if he wasn’t goin’ to speak another word. But says I, “Josiah Allen was you took?”

“Yes I was,” he snapped out.

“Lemme see the picture,” says I firmly.

He hung off, and tried to talk with me on religion, but I stood firm, and says I, “You was a lottin’ on a handsome picture, Josiah Allen.”

“Throw that in my face will you, what if I was. I’d like to know if you expect a man to have a handsome dressy expression, after he has traipsed all over Pennsylvany, and been lost, and mortified, and helped round by policeman, and yelled at by wimmen. And the man told me after I sot down, to look at a certain knot-hole, and git up a brilliant happy expression, and git inspired and animated. I did try to, but the man told me such a gloomy expression wouldn’t do no how, and says he, ‘my kind friend, you must look happier; think of the beautiful walk you had a comin’ here; think of the happy scenes you passed through.’

“I did think of ’em,” says Josiah, “and you can see for yourselves jest how it looks.”

It truly went ahead of anything I ever see for meachinness, and wretchedness. But I wouldn’t say a word to add to his gloom, I only says in a warnin’ way, “You had better keep by your pardner after this Josiah Allen.” And I added as I heerd the hour a strikin’ from the great clock on Machinery Hall, “It is time for us to go home.” And we went.