“Yes,” sez he, graspin’ holt of my hand in the warmth of his gratitude, for he see what I had kep’ him from. “Yes, you wuz in the right on’t, Samantha. I see the awfulness of the peril from which you rescued of me. But never,” sez he, a lookin’ down agin over the railin’, onto some more wimmen a passin’ beneath, “never did I see what I have seen here to-night. Not,” sez he dreemily, “sense I wuz a baby.”
“Wall,” sez I, “don’t try to look, Josiah; turn your eyes away.”
And I believe he did try to—though such is the fascination of a known danger in front of you, that it is hard to keep yourself from contemplatin’ of it. But he tried to. And he tried to not look at the waltzin’ no more than he could help, and I did too. But in spite of himself he had to see how clost the young girls wuz held; how warmly the young men embraced ’em. And as he looked on, agin I see the hot blush of shame mantillied Josiah’s cheeks, and again he sez to me in almost warm axents, “I realize what you have rescued me from, Samantha.”
And I sez, “You couldn’t have looked Elder Minkley in the face, could you? if you had gone into that shameful diversion.”
“No, I couldn’t, nor into yourn nuther. I couldn’t have looked nobody in the face, if I had gone on and imposed on any young girl as they are a doin’, and insulted of her. Why,” sez he, “if it wuz my Tirzah Ann that them, men wuz a embracin’, and huggin’, and switchin’ her round, as if they didn’t have no respect for her at all,—why, if it wuz Tirzah Ann, I would tear ’em ’em from lim.”
And he looked capable on’t. He looked almost sublime (though small). And I hurried him away from the seen, for I didn’t know what would ensue and foller on, if I let him linger there longer. He looked as firm and warlike as one of our bantam fowls, a male one, when hawks are a hoverin’ over the females of the flock. And when I say Bantam I say it with no disrespect to Josiah Allen. Bantams are noble, and warlike fowls, though small boneded.
I got one more glimps of Miss Flamm jest as we left the tarven. She wuz a standin’ up in the parlor, with a tall man a standin’ up in front of her a talkin’. He seemed to be biddin’ of her good-bye, for he had holt of her hand, and be wuz a sayin’ as we went by ’em, sez he, “I am sorry not to see more of you.”
“Good land!” thinkses I, “what can the man be a thinkin’ on? the mean, miserable creeter! If there wuz ever a deadly insult gin to a woman, then wuz the time it wuz gin. Good land! good land!”
I don’t know whether Miss Flamm resented it, or not, for I hurried Josiah along. I didn’t want to expose him to no sich sights, good, innocent old creeter. So I kep’ him up on a pretty good jog till I got him home.
The next mornin’ Ardelia Tutt sent me over a copy of the followin’ verses, which wuz as follers: