“Don’t you think we know what we are a talkin’ about Josiah Allen’s wife?” says Solomon Cypher.
“I wont say that you don’t,” says I “for it wouldn’t be good manners.” I wouldn’t stay another minute where they was, and I hurried Josiah out tellin’ him Miss Bean would be a waitin’ for us at the Japan house. I told Josiah on our way that them “Creation Searchers” fairly sickened me, a runnin’ things down, and pretendin’ not to admire ’em, and lookin’ wooden, and findin’ fault.
THE SPIRITUALIST
“Well,” says Josiah, “they say they have got a reputation for wisdom to keep up, and they will do it.”
“They are keepin’ up the reputation of natteral fools,” says I warmly.
“Well,” says Josiah with that same triumphant look to his mean he always wore when we talked on this subject, “if there haint anything in it Samantha, why does so many do it?”
He had got the better of me for once, and he knew it. I knew well there was hundreds of folks that got up on big reputation in jest that way, so I wouldn’t multiply another word with him, for I couldn’t.
THE WIMMEN’S PAVILION
Josiah said he wanted to look at a mowin’ machine, and as I hadn’t been to the Woman’s Pavilion only to take a cursory view of it, I thought now was my time, and so I went through it with a proud and happy heart. Yes, I can truly say without lyin’ that my emotions as I went through that buildin’ was larger in size and heftier in weight than any emotions I had enjoyed sense I had been to the Sentinal. Feelin’ such feelins for my sect as I felt, holdin’ their honor and prosperity, and success nearer to my heart, than to any earthly object, (exceptin’ Josiah) I suppose if anybody could have looked inside of my mind as I wandered through them rooms, they would have seen a sight they never would have forgot the longest day they ever lived; I s’pose it would have skairt ’em most to death if they wasn’t used to seein’ emotions performin’. Oh! such proud and lofty feelins as I did enjoy a seein’ the work of my sect from all over the length and breadth of the world. The wonderful, useful inventions of the sect, showin’ the power and solid heft of her brains; the beautiful works of art showin’ her creative artist soul, and provin’ plain the healthy and vigorous state of her imagination. The wonderful wood carvin’, and dainty fancy needle work, and embroideries of all kinds you can imagine, showin’ the stiddy, patient, persistent powers of her hands and fingers; and what was fur more interestin’ to me of all, was the silent exhibit at the south entrance, showin’ what sort of a heart she has within her, a record of eight hundred and twenty-two large noble sized charities, organized and carried on by the sect which a certain person once Smith, is proud to say she belongs to.
Oh! I can truly say that I felt perfectly beautiful, a goin’ through them noble halls, a seein’ everything and more too, (as it were) from doll’s shoes, and pictures of poseys, and squirrels, and five little pigs, up to the Vision of St. Christopher, and a big statute of Eve standin’ with her arm over her face, hidin’ the shame in it. There was Injun basket work, perfectly beautiful, and settin’ by the side of it weavin’ her baskets sot as dignified and good appearin’ a woman, (though dark complexioned) as any nation of the world sent to the Sentinal. I bought a little basket of her right there on the spot, for I liked her looks, and she handed me out her card: