He was a settin’ on the same seat with Josiah, and they had been a visitin’ together like old friends. But Josiah turned right round and shook hands with him, and say he: “How do you do Mr. Pitkins, happy to make your acquaintance, sir.”
And then he took his hat off, and held it in his lap for a few moments; then he put it on his head again. I was almost proud of that man at that minute, to see how well he knew what belonged to good manners; (I had took him in hand, and tutored him a sight, before we sot out on our tower,) and bein’ Josiah’s teacher in politeness, I wasn’t a goin’ to be out done by him; so I riz right up, and made a low curchy and shook hands with him. The democrat jolted jest then, and I come down pretty sudden, and bein’ a hefty woman I struck hard—but I didn’t begreech my trouble. True politeness is dear to me; true courtesy is a near relation to principle, as near as 2nd cousin.
This little episode over, and polite manners attended to, Elam Pitkins continued on:
“As I say, the Deacon give it to me strong about my son Tom—he made me feel wicked as a dog—said I’d be the ruination of him. You see the way on’t was, Loon Town is a great place for politics; lots of congressmen make it their home here summers, and so it is run down in its morals—lots of drinkin’ saloons, and other places of licenced ruination, and billiard-rooms, and so 4th—and Tom bein a bright, wide-awake lad, got kinder unstiddy for a spell. You know boys at that age take to fun and amusement as naterally as a duck takes to water; its nater, jest as much as the sun is nater or the moon, and can’t be helped any more than they can. Well, his ma and I talked it over; I was a great case to read nights—solid books, such as Patent Office Reports and the Dictionary bein’ my holt—and she was great on mendin’—socks bein’ her theme and stiddy practice. But Tom was a gettin’ unstiddy; and we talked it over and come to the conclusion that these occupations of ourn, though they was as virtuous as two young sheep’s, still they wasn’t very highlarious and happyfyin’ to a boy like Tom. And what do you s’pose we did—his ma and I? Well sir, if you’ll believe it, we learnt to play dominoes, that woman and I did and both on us a goin’ on fifty. You ort to seen us handle them dominoes at first! We’d never either on us touched one before, but we kep’ at it, a studyin’ deep, till we could play a good hand; and if I had give Tom a 50 dollar bill, he wouldn’t have been half so tickled as he was when his ma and I sot down to play dominoes with him for the first time.
COMPETING WITH THE BAR-ROOM.
“And then if you’ll believe it, his ma and I tackled the checker board next, and mastered that; Tom beats us most every time, and I am glad on it, and his ma is too. Then I got a box of authors; it don’t take near so much mind to play that as it does dominoes, most anybody can learn that, and it is a beautiful game—Thackuary and Dickens and all on ’em painted out as plain as day on ’em—and we bought lots of interestin’ books wrote by these very men that we got acquainted with in this way. And before winter was out, I got a set of parlor crokay; and when the bar-room winders was all lit up, seeminly a beconin’ Tom and others like him to come and be ruined, we lit up our sittin’-room winders brighter still, and bein’ considerable forehanded, and thinkin’ it is cheaper than to pay whisky bills, and gamblin’ debts, and worse—we lay out—Tom’s ma and I do—to have fruit, and nuts, and pop-corn, and lemonade and so 4th every evening; and Tom’s mates are made welcome, when they come. Why good land! You can’t git Tom away from home now hardly enough to be neighborly. We have kep’ up such doin’s year after year, and Tom is goin’ on twenty-two; and between you and me—you are related to Deacon Coffin’ses folks, you say?”
“Yes,” says Josiah and I.
“Well, you look so sort o’ friendly, and you’d be apt to hear of it any way, so I’ll tell you; Tom got sweet on the Deacon’s Molly; perfectly smit by her, and before they knew it, as you may say, they was engaged. Nater, you know, jest as nateral as the sun is, or the moon, or anything; but when Tom told us about it, and we had always been so kind of familiar with him, sort o’ mated with him, that it come nateral in him to confide in us—he thinks a sight on us Tom does—I told him to be honorable and manly, and tackle the old Deacon about it. Tom is brave as a lion—he wouldn’t hang back a inch from bears or tigers or crockydiles or anything of the kind—but when I mentioned the idee of his tacklin’ the old Deacon, I’ll be hanged if Tom didn’t flinch, and hang back.” Says he:
“I hate to; I hate to go near him, he is such a good man;” says he, “he makes me feel as if I could crawl through a knot hole, as if I wanted to.”