I parted with the children, and––oh! it wuz a hard wrench on my heart to part with Thomas J.; took pale little Tommy in my arms, like pullin’ out his pa’s heart-strings––and his ma’s, too––and at last the deepo wuz reached.
As we went in we see old Miss Burpy from ’way back of Loontown. She wuz never on the cars before, or see ’em, 19 but she wuz sent for by her oldest boy who lives in the city.
She was settin’ in a big rocken’-chair rocken voyolently, and as I went past her she says:
“Have we got to New York yet?”
“Why,” sez I, “we haint started.”
She sez, “I thought I wuz in the convenience now a-travellin’.”
“Oh, no,” I sez, “the conveyance haint come yet, you will heer it screechin’ along pretty soon.”
Anon we hearn the train thunderin’ towards us. I parted with Tirzah Ann and Whitfield, havin’ shook hands with Ury before; and all others being parted from, I had to, yes, I had to, bid my beloved pardner adoo. And with a almost breakin’ heart clum into the car, Miss Meechim and Dorothy and Aronette having preceeded me before hand. Yes, I left my own Josiah behind me, with his bandanna pressed to his eyes.
Could I leave him? At the last minute I leaned out of the car winder and sez with a choken voice:
“Josiah, if we never meet again on Jonesville sile, remember there is a place where partin’s and steam engines are no more.”