Jest at that very minute, Josiah laid down the World, and says he: “I am a goin to hitch up the old mare, Samantha. I guess you had better go, for I am a sufferin for them shirts; my old ones are a gettin’ so thin; I am cold as a frog.”
I braided my hair and done it up, and then I made a good cup of coffee, and brought out a cherry pie, and some bread, and butter, and cheese, and cold meat. We all eat a little, and then sister Doodle bein’ anxious about the shirts, and dretful tickled about my goin’, offered to wash up the dishes.
Josiah said we’d got to stop to the barn for the buffalo skin; he come out with it all rolled up in a curious way, and I see there was a middlin’ sized bundle in it, that he slipped under the seat. He seemed so anxious for me not to see it that I never let on that I did; but I kep’ my eye on it. I didn’t like the looks of things; Josiah acted strange, but he acted dretful affectionate towards me. But all the while I was on my tower towards ’lection—and the old mare went slow, all the time—though my face was calm, my mind was worked up and agitated and felt strange, and I kep’ s’posen things. I said to myself, here I be started for ’lection, my companion settin’ by my side, affection on his face, sweetness and peace throned onto his eyebrow, and at home is a Widder Doodle a helpin’ me off to ’lection. Everything is peace and harmony and gay, because I am a goin’ to ’lection after buttons and gussets for men’s shirts. And then I’d s’pose t’other way; s’posen I was a settin’ off with my mind all boyed up with enthusiasm in the cause of Right, a earnest tryin’ to do my full duty to God and man, pledgin’ my life and sacred honor to help the good cause forred and put my shoulder blades to the wheel; s’posen I was on my way to vote,—and it wouldn’t take me half so long as it would to pick out the shirt buttons, and things—my Josiah’s face would look black as a thunder cloud, anger and gloom would be throned on his eyebrow, his mean would be fierce and warlike; I should be an outcast from Isreal, and sister Doodle wouldn’t have washed a dish.
And so I kep’ s’posen things till we got clear to the store door and Josiah went to help me out; and then thinkin’ what my companion had warned me about so many times—about how dangerous and awful it was for wimmen to go near the pole—I says to him, in middlin’ quiet tones:
“Josiah I guess I’ll set in the buggy till you hitch the old mare, and then you can go in with me, so’s to kinder keep between me and the pole.”
But he says in excited tones:
“Oh shaw! Samantha; what fools wimmen can be, when they set out to! Who do you s’pose is a goin’ to hurt you? Do you s’pose Elder Minkley is a goin’ to burgle you, or old Bobbet asalt and batter you? There haint a man there but what you have been to meetin’ with. You wasn’t afraid last Sunday was you? Go in and get your buttons and things, so’s to be ready by the time I am for once,—wimmen are always so slow.”
I didn’t argue with him, I only said in cold tones:
“I wanted to be on the safe side, Josiah.”
