BETSEY’S PRAYER.
Alas! that my spectacles was ever bought to witness the sad sight. For with a despairin’, agonized countenance such as Lucifer, son of Mr. Mornin’ might have wore as he fell doun, Theodore plucked a hair out of his foretop, threw it at Betsey’s feet, and rushed out doors. Betsey with a proud, haughty look, picked it up, kissed it a few times, and put it into her port-money.
But I sithed.
I hadn’t no heart to say anything more to Victory. I bid her farewell. But after we got out in the street, I kept a sithin’.
A WIMMEN’S RIGHTS’ LECTURER.
As we wended our way back to Miss Asters’es to dinner, Betsey said she guessed after all she would go and take dinner to her cousin Ebeneezer’s, for her Pa hadn’t give her much money. Says she,
“I hate to awfully. It is revoltin’ to all the fineh feelings of my nature to take dinneh theah, afteh I have been so—” she stopped suddenly, and then went on agin. “But Pa didn’t make much this yeah, and he didn’t give me much money, he nor Ma wouldn’t have thought they could have paid my faih heah on the cars, if they hadn’t thought certain, that Ebeneezah’s wife would be took from us, and I—should do my duty by coming. So I guess I will go theah and get dinneh.”
Thinks’es I to myself, “If your folks had brought you up to emanual labor, if they had brought you up to any other trade only to get married, you might have money enough of your own to buy one dinner independent, without dependin’ on some man to earn it for you.” But I didn’t say nothin’, but proceeded onwards to the tavern where I put up. When I got there I met Johnothan Beans’es ex wife, and says she,