"No," said she, "I won't—so there!"
"Don't you budge an inch!" cried the married sister within the room.
"Now—now, Maria," said the young man to his wife, in a piteous tone, "don't go for to cuttin' up in this way; now don't!"
"I'll cut up's much I wanter!" she sharply replied.
"Well," roared the desperate man, throwing the door wide open and stalking out among the crowd, "well, jest you two wimin put on your duds and go right straight home and bring back the old man and woman, and your grandfather, who is nigh on to a hundred; bring 'em all here, AND I'LL MARRY THE WHOLE D—D CABOODLE OF 'EM AND WE'LL ALL SLEEP TOGETHER!"
The difficulty was finally adjusted by the tall female taking a room alone. Wellsville is enjoying itself over the "sensation."
1.58. A COLORED MAN OF THE NAME OF JEFFRIES.
One beautiful day last August, Mr. Elmer of East Cleveland, sent his hired colored man, of the name of Jeffries, to town with a two-horse wagon to get a load of lime. Mr. Elmer gave Jeffries 5 dollars with which to pay for the lime. The horses were excellent ones, by the way, nicely matched, and more than commonly fast. The colored man of the name of Jeffries came to town and drove to the Johnson Street Station where he encountered a frail young woman of the name of Jenkins, who had just been released from jail, where she had been confined for naughtical conduct (drugging and robbing a sailor). "Will you fly with me, adorable Jenkins?" he unto her did say, "or words to that effect," and unto him in reply she did up and say: "My African brother, I will. Spirit," she continued, alluding to a stone jug under the seat in the wagon, "I follow!" Then into the two-horse wagon this fair maiden got and knavely telling the "perlice," to embark by the first packet for an unromantic land where the climate is intensely tropical, and where even Laplanders, who like fire, get more of a good thing than they want—doing and saying thus the woman of the name of Jenkins mounted the seat with the colored man of the sweet name of Jeffries; and so these two sweet, gushing children of nature rode gaily away. Away towards the setting sun. Away towards Indiana—bright land of cheap whisky and corn doin's!
1.59. NAMES.
Any name which is suggestive of a joke, however poor the joke may be, is often a nuisance. We were once "confined" in a printing- office with a man named Snow. Everybody who came in was bound to have a joke about Snow. If it was Summer the mad wags would say we ought to be cold, for we had Snow there all the time—which was a fact, though we sometimes wished Snow was where he would speedily melt. Not that we didn't like Snow. Far from it. His name was what disgusted us. It was also once our misfortune to daily mingle with a man named Berry, we can't tell how many million times we heard him called Elderberry, Raspberry, Blueberry, Huckleberry, Gooseberry, &c. The thing nearly made him deranged. He joined the filibusters and has made energetic efforts to get shot but had not succeeded at last accounts, although we hear he has been "slewd" numerously. There is a good deal in a name, our usually correct friend W. Shakespeare to the contrary notwithstanding.