OUR SURPRIZE PARTIES.
About one week after this picture eppysode, there was a surprise party appointed. They had been havin’ ’em all winter, and the children had been crazy to have me go to ’em—everybody went, old and young, but I held back. Says I: “I don’t approve of ’em, and I won’t go.”
But finally they got their father on their side; says he: “It won’t hurt you Samantha, to go for once.”
Says I: “Josiah, the place for old folks is to home; and I don’t believe in surprise parties anyway, I think they are perfect nuisances. It stands to reason if you want to see your friends, you can invite ’em, and if anybody is too poor to bake a cake or two, and a pan of cookies, they are too poor to go into company at all.” Says I: “I haint proud, nor never was called so, but I don’t want Tom, Dick and Harry, that I never spoke to in my life, feel as if they was free to break into my house at any time they please.” Says I: “it would make me feel perfectly wild, to think there was a whole drove of people, liable to rush in here at any minute, and I won’t rush into other people’s housen.”
“It would be fun, mother,” says Thomas J.; “I should love to see you and Deecon Gowdey or old Bobbet, playin’ wink ’em slyly.”
“Let ’em wink at me if they dare to,” says I sternly; “let me catch ’em at it. I don’t believe in surprise parties,” and I went on in about as cold a tone as they make. “Have you forgot how Mrs. Gowdey had her parlor lamp smashed to bits, and a set of stun china? Have you forgot how four or five stranger men got drunk to Peedicks’es, and had to be carried up stairs and laid out on her spare bed? Have you forgot how Celestine Wilkins fell with her baby in her arms, as she was catchin’ old Gowdey, and cracked the little innocent creeter’s nose? Have you forgot how Betsey Bobbet lost out her teeth a runnin’ after the editor of the Augur, and he stepped on ’em and smashed ’em all to bits? Have you forgot these coincidences?” Says I: “I don’t believe in surprise parties.”
“No more do I,” says Josiah; “but the children feel so about our goin’, sposen’ we go, for once! No livin’ woman could do better for children than you have by mine, Samantha, but I don’t suppose you feel exactly as I do about pleasin’ ’em, it haint natteral you should.”
Here he knew he had got me. If ever a woman wanted to do her duty by another woman’s children, it is Samantha Allen, whose maiden name was Smith. Josiah knew jest how to start me; men are deep. I went to the very next party, which was to be held two miles beyond Jonesville; they had had ’em so fast, they had used up all the nearer places. They had heard of this family, who had a big house, and the women had been to the same meetin’ house with Betsey Bobbet two or three times, and she had met her in a store a year before, and had been introduced to her, so she said she felt perfectly free to go. And as she was the leader it was decided on. They went in two big loads, but Josiah and I went in a cutter alone.
We got started ahead of the loads, and when we got to the house we see it was lit up real pleasant, and a little single cutter stood by the gate. We went up to the door and knocked, and a motherly lookin’ woman with a bunch of catnip in her hand, came to the door.