Josiah Allen's Wife as a P. A. and P. I.: Samantha at the Centennial. / Designed As a Bright and Shining Light, to Pierce the Fogs of Error and Injustice That Surround Society and Josiah, and to Bring More Clearly to View the Path That Leads Straight on to Virtue and Happiness.

by Marietta Holley

“I’d talk Josiah Allen about men bein’ so pure-minded, and honest. I’d talk about wimmens bein’ whifflin’ and their minds not stabled. I’d talk about the purity of the pole. I’d love to see Josiah Allen’s wife buyin’ votes; bribin’ Miss Gowdey or sister Minkley away from the paths of honesty and virtue, with a petticoat or a bib apron. I’d love to see George Washington offerin’ his jack knife to Patrick Henry to get him to vote his ticket; or Benjamin Franklin, or Thomas Jefferson sellin their votes for store clothes. I should be ashamed to go to the Sentinal Josiah Allen, if I was in your place. I should be perfectly ashamed to set my eyes on that little hatchet that George Washington couldn’t tell a lie with. I should think that hatchet would cut your conscience clear to the bone—if you have got a conscience, Josiah Allen.

“Oh! Did I ever expect to see the companion of my youth and middle age, betrayin’ his country’s honor; trafficin’ in bribery and sin; dickerin’ with dishonesty; tradin’ in treason; buyin’ corruption; and payin’ for it with a swaller tailed coat, with his old father’s blue swaller tailed coat that his lawful pardner wanted for carpet rags. Oh, the agony of this half an hour, Josiah Allen! Oh, the feelin’s that I feel.”

JOSIAH FINDS HIS SECRET IS KNOWN.

But Josiah had begun to pick up his crumbs again. Truly it is hard work to keep men down in the valley of humiliation. You can’t keep ’em worked up and mortified for any great length of time, do the best you can. But I continued on in almost dretful axents.

“You ort to repent in sackcloth and ashes, Josiah Allen.”

“We haint got no sackcloth Samantha,” says he, “and we have sold our ashes. Probable the man wouldn’t want me to be a repentin’ in ’em. It would be apt to leach ’em, too much lie for ’em.”

“I’d try to turn it off into a joke, Josiah Allen, I’d laugh if I was in your place about lyin’. Your tears ort to flow like a leach barrell. Oh if you could realize as I do the wickedness of your act. Destroyin’ your country’s honor. Sellin’ your father’s coat when I wanted it for carpet rags.” Says I, “I am as good a mind as I ever was to eat, to color the hull thing black, warp and all, makin’ a mournin’ carpet of it, to set down and bewail my pardner’s wickedness from year to year.”

“It would look pretty solemn Samantha.” I see the idee worried him.

“It wouldn’t look no solemner than I feel, Josiah Allen.”