But sez I, “Ardelia, it is a hot day, and I wouldn’t write any more if I wuz in your place. If you should heat your bra-, the upper part of your head, you might not get over it for some time.”
“But,” sez she, “you have told me sometimes to stop on account of cold weather.”
“Wall,” sez I, “most any kind of weather is hard on some kinds of poetry.” Sez I, “Poetry is sunthin’ that takes particular kinds of folks and weather to be successful.” Sez I, “It is sunthin’ that can’t be tampered with with impunity by Christians or world’s people. It is a kind of a resky thing to do, and I wouldn’t write any more to-day, Ardelia.”
And she heard to me and after a settin’ a while with us, she went back to Mr. Pixley’s.
Chapter VIII.
JOSIAH AND SAMANTHA TAKE A LONG WALK.
Wall, we hadn’t been to Saratoga long before Aunt Polly Pixley came over to see us, for Aunt Polly had been as good as her word and had come to Saratoga, to her 2d cousins, the Mr. Pixley’ses, where Ardelia wuz a stopping. Ardelia herself is a distant relation to Aunt Polly, quite distant, about 40 or 50 miles distant when they are both to home.
Wall, the change in Aunt Polly is wonderful, perfectly wonderful. She don’t look like the same woman.
She took her knittin’ work and come in the forenoon, for a all day’s visit, jest as she wuz used to in the country, good old soul - and I took her right to my room and done well by her, and we talked considerable about other wimmen, not runnin’ talk, but good plain talk.
She thinks a sight of the Saratoga water, and well she may, if that is what has brung her up, for she wuz always sick in Jonesville, kinder bedrid. And when she sot out for Saratoga she had to have a piller to put on the seat behind her to sort a prop her up (hen’s feather).