And as I sez this, Josiah turned and almost flew down the steps and into the buggy. I had skairt him. Truly I felt relieved, and sez I to myself, “What would wimmen do if it wuzn’t for these little weepons they hold in their hands, to control their pardners with.” I felt happy.
But the next words of Josiah knocked down all that palace of Peace, that my soul had betook herself to. Sez he, “Samantha Allen, before I leave Saratoga I shall Toboggen.”
Wall, I immegetly turned the subject round and talked wildly and almost incoherently on politicks. I praised the tariff amost beyond its deserts. I brung up our foreign relations, and spoke well on ’em. I tackled revenues and taxation, and hurried him from one to the other on ’em, almost wildly, to get the idee out of his head. And I congratulated myself on havin’ succeeded. Alas! how futile is our hopes, sometimes futiler than we have any idee on!
By night all thoughts of danger had left me, and I slept sweetly and peacefully. But early in the mornin’ I had a strange dream. I dreamed I wuz in the woods with my head a layin’ on a log, and the ground felt cold that I wuz a layin’ on. And then the log gin way with me, and my head came down onto the ground. And then I slept peaceful agin, but chilly, till anon, or about that time, I beard a strange sound and I waked up with a start. It wuz in the first faint glow of mornin’ twilight. But as faint as the light wuz, for the eye of love is keen, I missed my beloved pardner’s head from the opposite pillow, and I riz up in wild agitation and thinkses I, “Has rapine took place here; has Josiah Allen been abducted away from me? Is he a kidnapped Josiah?”
At that fearful thought my heart begun to beat so voyalently as to almost stop my breath, and I felt I wuz growin’ pale and wan, wanner, fur wanner than I had been sense I came to Saratoga. I love Josiah Allen, he is dear to me.
And I riz up feelin’ that I would find that dear man and rescue him or perish in the attempt. Yes, I felt that I must perish if I did not find him. What would life be to me without him? And as I thought that thought the light of the day that wuz a breakin’, looked sort of a faint to me, and sickish. And like a flash it came to me, the thought that that light seemed like the miserable dawns of wretched days without him, a pale light with no warmth or brightness in it.
But at that very minute I heard a noise outside the door, and I heard that beloved voice a sayin’ in low axents the words I had so often heard him speak, words I had oft rebuked him for, but now, so weak will human love make one, now, I welcome them gladly—they sounded exquisitely sweet to me. The words wuz, “Dumb ’em!”
And I joyfully opened the door. But oh! what a sight met my eye. There stood Josiah Allen, arrayed in a blanket he had took from our bed (that accounted for my cold feelin’ in my dream). The blanket wuz white, with a gay border of red and yellow. He had fixed it onto him in a sort of a dressy way, and strapped it round the waist with my shawl strap. And he had took a bright yeller silk handkerchief of hisen, and had wrapped it round his head so’s it hung down some like a cap, and he wuz a tryin’ to fasten it round his forward with one of my stockin’ supporters. He couldn’t buckle it, and that is what called forth his exclamations. At his feet, partly upon the stairs, wuz the bolster from our bed (that accounted for the log that had gin way). And he had spread a little red shawl of mine over the top on’t, and as I opened the door he wuz jest ready to embark on the bolster, he waz jest a steppin’ onto it. But as he see me he paused, and I sez in low axents, “What are you a goin’ to do, Josiah Allen?”
“I’m a goin’ to Toboggen,” sez he.
