After I left Horace, I hastened on, for I was afraid I was behind time. Bein’ a large hefty woman, (my weight is 200 and 10 pounds by the steelyards now) I could not hasten as in former days when I weighed 100 pounds less. I was also encumbered with my umberell, my satchel bag, my cap box and “What I know about Farming.” But I hastened on with what speed I might. But alas! my apprehensions was too true, the cars had gone. What was to be done? Betsey sat on her portmanty at the depott, lookin’ so gloomy and depressted, that I knew that I could not depend on her for sukker, I must rely onto myself. There are minutes that try the sole, and show what timber it is built of. Not one trace of the wild storm of emotions that was ragin’ inside of me, could be traced on my firm brow, as Betsey looked up in a gloomy way and says,
“What are we going to do now?”
No, I rose nobly to meet the occasion, and said in a voice of marbel calm, “I don’t know Betsey.” Then I sot down, for I was beat out. Betsey looked wild, says she, “Josiah Allen’s wife I am sick of earth, the cold heartless ground looks hollow to me. I feel jest reckless enough to dare the briny deep.” Says she, in a bold darin’ way,
“Less go home on the canal.”
The canal boat run right by our house, and though at first I hung back in my mind, thinkin’ that Josiah would never consent to have me face the danger of the deep in the dead of the night, still the thought of stayin’ in New York village another night made me waver. And I thought to myself, if Josiah knew jest how it was—the circumstances environin’ us all round, and if he considered that my board bill would cost 3 dollars more if I staid another night, I felt that he would consent, though it seemed perilous, and almost hazardous in us. So I wavered, and wavered, Betsey see me waver, and took advantage of it, and urged me almost warmly.
But I didn’t give my consent in a minute. I am one that calmly weighs any great subject or undertakin’ in the ballances.
Says I, “Betsey have you considered the danger?” Says I, “The shore we was born on, may sometimes seem tame to us, but safety is there.” Says I, “more freedom may be upon the deep waters, but it is a treacherous element. Says I, “I never, tempted its perils in my life, only on a bridge.”
“Nor I neither,” says she. But she added in still more despairin’ tones, “What do I care for danger? What if it is a treacherous element? What have I got to live for in this desert life? And then,” says she, “the captain of a boat here, is mother’s cousin, he would let us go cheap.”
Says I in awful deep tones of principle. “I have got Josiah to live for—and the great cause of Right, and the children. And I feel for their sakes that I ought not to rush into danger.” But agin I thought of my board bill, and agin I felt that Josiah would give his consent for me to take the voyage.