He was nearly eloquent, and says I in reasonable axents, “I haint denied it, only it seems to me that anything so sweet and solemn and holy would be revealed to us in some other way than through the legs of a pine table. It does seem to me that He who rides on the whirlwind and the clouds, and who has the winds and waves for His messengers, wouldn’t find it necessary to tie a man up in a little bass-wood box in order to reveal His will to us. Howsumever, I don’t say it haint so, I only tell my own idees; other folks have a right to theirn. But I told him I guessed I would be excused from goin’ to see the spirits perform, as I didn’t seem to have no drawins that way.”
He acted surly, but I didn’t care a mite; and jest that minute I see my pardner a tryin’ to enter into the abode of Comfort. I will not try to paint my agony nor hisen, on our way to each other, and on our way out. Josiah groaned out that he had had enough Comfort to last him the hull of a long life; and I groaned back again that a very little more Comfort would have been the death of me. But we got out alive, which we felt was indeed a blessin’.
VARIOUS MATTERS.
The next day was Sunday, and if it hadn’t been we couldn’t have gone anywhere. We was sick critters, me and Josiah both; a sort of a Collery Morbeus. Some called it the Sentinal gripe. It was very fashionable to have it, though that didn’t make a mite of difference with Josiah or me; we don’t foller up the fashion so close as some do. Fashion or no fashion, it wasn’t nothin’ we wanted. Josiah felt better towards night, and went out for a little walk, and when he come back, says he:
“The ‘Creation Searchers’ got into a real scrape last night; was took up for vagrants and shet up in the Station House, the hull ten on ’em.”
“How you talk!” says I.
“Yes, I met Sam Snyder jest now and he told me all about it. You see their spectacles blinded ’em so, not bein’ used to ’em, that they got to wanderin’ off, and got lost and couldn’t find the way back, till it got most midnight, and the policemen took ’em up, thinkin’ they was either crazy or fools. It seems they’d all stand in a row, and tell him they was ‘Creation Searchers,’ thinkin’ it would scare him; and he’d holler back to ’em, that he’d ‘Creation Search’ ’em, if they didn’t move on. And then they’d tell him they was ‘World Investigators;’ and he’d tell ’em he’d ‘investigate’ ’em with a club if they didn’t start along. Then they’d try to scare him again. They would all stand still and tell him they was ‘takin’ moments of the Sentinal, and collectin’ information;’ and he’d sass ’em right back, that he’d help ’em to ‘information;’ and then he’d kick ’em. I s’pose they had a awful time, but he got help and shet ’em up.”
IN TROUBLE.