“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.
