And lookin’ up I see a tall man with greyish whiskers and mustache, come in in a quiet way with a little book in his hand, and go to lookin’ at the pictures. For nearly three quarters of a moment I felt strange, curious, exceedingly so. But Principle showed me jest what to do, to do right, and Duty locked arms with me and bore me onwards, right up in front of that noblest of men, for I felt that I ort to make some move towards gettin’ acquainted with him. I took it right to myself; he was a literary man; I was a literary woman; he was on a tower of investigation and principle; I too, was on such a tower; and I knew if I should go to Brazil to get Brazil nuts or anything, if I should happen to go to his neighborhood to any doin’s where he was, and he shouldn’t make any move towards gettin’ acquainted with me, I should feel hurt. I shouldn’t be mad, but it would grieve me—work on my feelin’s. And so thinks’es I, I wont stand on no ceremony but do as I would be done by, and scrape acquaintance with him.
SAMANTHA MEETS DOM PEDRO.
I am very polite when I set out to be. Anybody to see me appear sometimes, would almost think I was born in a meetin’ house. I have a very noble way to me sometimes, it comes natural, and I put on now, the very best mean I had by me, and curchied nobly. And though I do say it that shouldn’t, I can make as good lookin’ a curchy as any woman of my age and size when I set out. Of course I can’t put in all the little curious motions I could if I weighed less than two hundred, but I did well. And jest as I got through curchyien I spoke up in a very polite, but calm tone: “How do you do Mr. Pedro?”
They call him Dom, a nickname for Dombey, I s’pose. But I always think it looks better for females to be sort o’ reserved and dignified, and so I called him Mr. Pedro. And says I, “I will make you acquainted with Josiah Allen’s wife.”
He looked at me kinder searchin’ like, and then when I had a full look at him, I could see that he looked well. Though, like myself, he couldn’t be called handsome, he had a good look to his face. His eyes had that sort of a weary look, considerable sad, and considerable hopeful too, and very deep and searchin’, jest as if they had looked a good deal at things that worried and perplexed him; just as if they had looked at bigotry, and prejudice, and ignorance, and then seen, clear acrost ’em the sunlight of education, and freedom, and true religion a dawnin’ on the land he loved. I don’t know when I have seen a face that I liked better. And my admirin’ and reverential emotions riz up so that I never spoke about the weather—or asked him whether he was enjoyin’ good health, or whether Miss Pedro and the rest of his folks was as well as could be expected, or anything—but I spoke right up and says I in tones tremblin’ with emotion:
“I have been on towers before, Mr. Pedro, and have felt noble and grand on ’em, but never did I feel so lifted up on any tower as I do now. Never, never, did I meet a literary man that I feel such emotions towards, either on a tower or offon it.”
And as I went on I grew more and more agitated, and eloquent; why, I felt so eloquent that I see there wasn’t no use to try to stop myself, and I says in fearfully noble axents:
“When a man in a lofty station like yourn, instead of spendin’ his days admirin’ himself, works earnest, hard work to benefit the people God placed in his keepin’; studies day and night how to advance their interests, in every way, and raise them up and make them prosperous and happy; that man Mr. Pedro, raises himself from 35 to 40 cents in my estimation. And when that literary, and noble minded man gets down out of his high chair—soft as royalty and a people’s devotion can make it—and sets off on a tower to collect information to still further benefit them, he raises himself still further up in my estimation, he still further endears himself to her whose name was formally Smith. For,” says I wipin’ my heated forward, “I feel a sympathizin’ feelin’ for him; I too, am literary, and a investigator in the cause of right, I too am on a tower.”
He looked dretful sort o’ earnest at me, and surprised. I s’pose it kind o’ took him back, and almost skairt him to see a woman so awful eloquent. But I kep’ right on, unbeknown to me. Says I “Some kings look down on the people as if they was only dust for their throne to rest on; while they set up on it, with their crown on, a playin’ with their septer, and countin’ over their riches and admirin’ themselves. But,” says I, “such feelin’s felt towards the people makes the waves of angry passions rise up below, muddy waves of feelin’, underminin’ the throne, and tottlin’ it right over. But when a ruler plants the foundations of his throne in Justice, and goodness, and the hearts of his people, they are firm foundations, and will stand a pretty good shakin’ before tumblin’ down.”