She wouldn’t let the wet nurse tech it, for her youngest child, little G. Washington Flamm, Jr., wuzn’t very healthy, and Miss Flamm thought that mebby the dog might ketch his weakness if the nurse handled it right after she had been nursin’ the baby. And then she objected to the nurse, so I hearn, on account of her bein’ wet. She wanted to keep the dog dry. I hearn this; I don’t know as it wuz so. But I hearn these things long enough before I ever see her. And when I did see her I see that they didn’t tell me no lies about her devotion to the dog, for she jest worshiped it, that was plain to be seen.
Wall, she has got a splendid place at Saratoga; a cottage she calls it. I, myself, should call it a house, for it is big as our house and Deacon Peddick’ses and Mr. Bobbett’ses all put together, and I don’t know but bigger.
Wall, she invited Josiah and me to drive with her, and so her dog and she stopped for us. (I put the dog first, for truly she seemed to put him forward on every occasion in front of herself, and so did her high-toned relatives, who wuz with her.)
Or I s’pose they wuz her relatives for they sot up straight, and wuz dretful dressed up, and acted awful big-feelin’ and never took no notice of Josiah and me, no more than if we hadn’t been there. But good land! I didn’t care for that. What if they didn’t pay any attention to us? But Josiah, on account of his tryin’ to be so fashionable, felt it deeply, and he sez to me while Miss Flamm wuz a bendin’ down over the dog, a talkin’ to him, for truly it wuz tired completely out a barkin’ at Josiah, it had barked at him every single minute sense we had started, and she wuz a talkin’ earnest to it a tryin’ to soothe it, and Josiah whispered to me, “I’ll tell you, Samantha, why them fellers feel above me; it is because I haint dressed up in sech a dressy fashion. Let me once have on a suit like their’n, white legs and yellow trimmin’s, and big shinin’ buttons sot on in rows, and white gloves, and rosettes in my hat—why I could appear in jest as good company as they go in.”
Sez I, “You are too old to be dressed up so gay, Josiah Allen. There is a time for all things. Gay buttons and rosettes look well with brown hair and sound teeth, but they ort to gently pass away when they do. Don’t talk any more about it, Josiah, for I tell you plain, you are too old to dress like them, they are young men.”
“Wall,” he whispered, in deep resolve, “I will have a white rosette in my hat, Samantha. I will go so far, old or not old. What a sensation it will create in the Jonesville meetin’-house to see me come a walkin’ proudly in, with a white rosette in my hat.”
“You are goin’ to walk into meetin’ with your hat on, are you?” sez I coldly.
“Oh, ketch a feller up. You know what I mean. And don’t you think I’ll make a show? Won’t it create a sensation in Jonesville?”
Sez I: “Most probable it would. But you haint a goin’ to wear no bows on your hat at your age, not if I can break it up,” sez I.