And Josiah wuz all rousted up in a minute.
And sez he—“Some female is in distress, Samantha! Where is my dressin’-gown?” Sez he, “I will go to her rescue!” And he rung the bell wildly for the stewardess, and acted.
Sez I—“Josiah Allen, come back to bed! no woman ever yelled so loud as that and lived! If it is a female she’s beyend your help now.” And I curdled down in bed agin, though I felt queer and felt dretful sorry for her; but felt that indeed that yell must have been her last, and that she wuz now at rest.
But he wuz still wildly arrangin’ his gown, and hollerin’ for the tossels—they’d slipped off from it.
“Where is them dum tossels?” he yelled; “must I hear a female yell like that and not fly to her rescue? Where is the tossels?” he yelled agin. “You don’t seem to have no heart, Samantha, or you’d be rousted up!”
“I am rousted up!” sez I; “yes, indeed, I have been rousted up ever sence I laid my head onto my piller; but if you wuz so anxious to help and save, Josiah, you wouldn’t wait for tossels!”
But at that minute, simultaneous and to once, the chambermaid come to the door, and he found his tossels.
“Who is that female a-screamin’?” sez Josiah, a-tyin’ the cord in a big bow-knot.
“That is the Syren,” sez she. And she slammed the door and went back; she wuz mad to be waked up for that.
“The Syren!” sez Josiah; “what did I tell you, Samantha?” And sez he, a-smoothin’ out the tossels, “I wouldn’t have missed the sight for a dollar bill! How lucky I found my tossels!” sez he.