Wall, the water is good, there haint no doubt, and anyway, through the water and the air, and bein’ took out of her home cares, and old surroundin’s onto a brght happy place, the change in Polly Pixley is sunthin’ to be wondered at.
Yes, the water is good. And it is dretful smart, knowin’ water too. Why, wouldn’t anybody think that when it all comes from the same place, or pretty nigh the same place anyway, that they would get kinder flustrated and mixed up once in a while?
But they don’t. These hundreds and thousands of years, and I don’t know how much longer, they have kep’ themselves separate from each other, livin’ nigh neighbors there down under the ground, but never neighborin’ with each other, or intermarryin’ in each other’s families. No, they have kep’ themselves apart, livin’ exclosive down below and bubblin’ up exclosive.
They know how to make each other keep their proper distance, and I s’pose through all the centuries to come they will bubble up, right side by side, entirely different from each other.
Curius, hain’t it? Dretful smart, knowin’ waters they be, fairly sparklin’ and flashin’ with light and brightness, and intelligence. They are for the healin’ and refreshin’ of ,the nations, and the nations are all here this summer, a bein’ healed by ’em. But still I lay a good deal to that air.
Amongst the things that Aunt Polly told me about wimmen that day, wuz this, that Ardelia Tutt had got a new Bo, Bial Flamburg, by name.
She said Mr. Flamburg had asked Ardelia’s 3d cousin to introduce him to her, and from that time his attentions to her had been unremittent, voyalent, and close. She said that to all human appearance he wuz in love with her from his hat band down to his boots and she didn’t know what the result would be, though she felt that the situation wuz dangerus, and more’n probable Abram Gee had more trouble ahead on him. (Aunt Polly jest worships Abram Gee, jest as everybody duz that gets to know him well.) And I too, felt that the situation wuz dubersome. For Ardelia I knew wuz one of the soft little wimmen that has got to have men a trailin’ round after ’em; and her bein’ so uncommon tender hearted, and Mr. Flamburg so deep in love, I feared the result.
Wall, I wuz jest a thinkin’ of this that day after dinner when Josiah proposed a walk, so we sot out. He proposed we should walk through the park, so we did. The air wuz heavenly sweet and that park is one of the most restful and beautiful places this side of Heaven, or so it seemed to us that pleasant afternoon. The music was very soft and sweet that day, sweet with a undertone of sadness, some like a great sorrowful soul in a beautiful body.
The balmy south wind whispered through the branches of the bendin’ trees on the hill where we sot. The light was a shinin’ and a siftin’ down through the green leaves, in a soft golden haze, and the music seemed to go right up into them shadowy, shinin’ pathways of golden misty light, a climbin’ up on them shadowy steps of mist and gold, and amber, up, up into the soft depths of the blue overhead - up to the abode of melody and love.
Down the hill in the beautiful little valley, all amongst the fountains and windin’ walks and white statutes, and green, green, grass, little children wuz a playin’. Sweet little toddlers, jest able to walk about, and bolder spirits, though small, a trudgin’ about with little canes, and jumpin’ round, and havin’ a good time.