“Your sarvant, Tominie,” I said, making an awkward bow, as soon as we got near enough to the parson to address him; “be you ter Tominie, that marries folk on a pinch?”
“Ay, or on a handful, liking the last best.—Why, Corny, thou rogue, what does all this mean?”
It was necessary to let Mr. Worden into the secret; and he no sooner learned the business we were on, than he expressed a wish to be of the party. As there was no declining, we now went to the inn, and gave him time to assume a suitable disguise. As the divine was a rigid observer of the costume of his profession, and was most strictly a man of his cloth, it was a very easy matter for him to make such a change in his exterior, as completely to render him incognito. When all was ready, we went finally forth, on our errand.
“I go with you, Corny, on this foolish business,” said the Rev. Mr. Worden, as soon as we were fairly on our way, “to comply with a promise made your excellent mother, not to let you stray into any questionable company, without keeping a fatherly eye over you. Now, I regard a fortune-teller's, as a doubtful sort of society; therefore, I feel it to be a duty, to make one of this party.”
I do not know whether the Rev. Mr. Worden succeeded in deceiving himself; but, I very well know, he did not succeed in deceiving me. The fact was, he loved a frolic; and nothing made him happier, than to have an opportunity of joining in just such an adventure as that we were on. Judging from the position of her house, and the appearance of things in and around it, the business of Mother Doortje was not of the most lucrative sort. Dirt and poverty were two things not easily encountered, in Albany; and, I do not say, that we found very positive evidence of either, here; but there was less neatness than was usual in that ultra-tidy community; and, as for any great display of abundance, it was certainly not to be met with.
We were admitted by a young woman, who gave us to understand that Mother Doortje had a couple of customers, already; but she invited us to sit down in an outer room, promising that our turn should be the next. We did so, accordingly, listening, through a door that was a little ajar, with no small degree of curiosity, to what was passing within. I accidentally took a seat in a place that enabled me to see the legs of one of the fortune-teller's customers; and, I thought, immediately, that the striped stockings were familiar to me; when the nasal, and very peculiar intonation of Jason, put the matter out of all doubt. He spoke in an earnest manner; which rendered him a little incautious; while the woman's tones were low and mumbled. Notwithstanding, we all overheard the following discourse—
“Well, now, Mother Dorrichay,” said Jason, in a very confiding sort of way, “I've paid you well, for this here business, and I want to know if there is any chance, for a poor man, in this colony, who doesn't want for friends, or, for that matter, merit?”
“That's yourself” mumbled the female voice—in the way one announces a discovery—“Yes, I see, by the cards, that your question applies to yourself. You are a young man, that wants not for friends; and you have merit! You have friends that you deserve; the cards tells me that!”
“Well, I'll not deny the truth of what you assert; and, I must say, Dirck, it is a little strange, this woman, who never saw me before, should know me so well—my very natur', as it might be. But, do you think, I shall do well to follow up the affair I am now on, or that I had best give it up?”
“Give up nothing,” answered the oracle, in a very oracular manner, shuffling the cards as she spoke; “no, give up nothing, but keep all you can. That is the way to thrive, in this world.”