His answer I will not translate; it was neither Biblical nor even moral. And I sez agin, “Hain’t it strange that they have the village all run together with no streets turnin’ off of it.” Sez I, “It makes me feel queer, Josiah Allen, and I am a goin’ to enquire into it.” So we wended our way some further on amongst the dense crowd I have spoken of, only more crowded and more denser, and anon, if not oftener, Josiah’s head would be scooped in by passin’ parasols, and then in low, deep tones, Josiah would use words that I wouldn’t repeat for a dollar bill, till at last I asked a by bystander a standin’ by, and sez I, “Is this village all built together—don’t you have no streets a turnin’ off of it?”
“Yes,” sez he, “you’ll find a street jest as soon as you get by this hotel.”
I stopped right in my tracts; I wuz dumbfoundered. Sez I, “Do you mean to say that this hull side of the street that we have been a traversin’ anon, or long before anon,—do you say that this is all one buildin’?”
“Yes mom,” sez he.
Sez I, in faint axents, “When shall we get to the end on it?”
Sez he, “You have come jest about half way.”
Josiah gin a deep groan and turned him round in his tracts and sez, “Le’s go back this minute.”
I too thought of the quiet haven from whence we had set out, with a deep longin’, but sech is the force and strength of my mind that I grasped holt of the situation and held it there tight. If we wuz half way across it wouldn’t be no further to go on than it would to go back. Such wuz my intellect that I see it to once, but Josiah’s mind couldn’t grasp it, and with words murmured in my ears which I will never repeat to a livin’ soul he wended on by my side through the same old crowd—parasols, and wimmen, and dogs, and babies, and men, and parasols, and Injuns, and Spanards, and Creoles, and pretty girls, and old wimmen, and puckers, and gethers, and bracelets, and diamonds, and lace, and parasols. Several times, if not more, wuz Josiah Allen scooped in by a parasol held by a female, and I felt he wuz liable to be torn from me. His weight is but small. 3 times his hat fell off in the operation and wuz reskued with difficulty, and he spoke words I blush to recall as havin’ passed my pardner’s lips.
Wall, in the fullness of time, or a little after, for truly I wuz not in a condition to sense things much, we arrove at a street and we gladly turned our 2 frames into it, and wended our way on it, goin’ at a pretty good jog. The crowd a growin’ less and less and we kep a goin’, and kep a goin’, till Josiah sez in weary axents:
“Where be you a goin’, Samantha? Haint you never goin’ to stop? I am fairly tuckered out.”