I spoze they referred to the “awe” they felt in seein’ a young colt like that so uncommon active, what the “revoir” meant I don’t know, unless it wuz some man by that name who owned a colt not nigh so smart as ourn. Yes, indeed, that colt well merits Josiah’s enconiums so fur as smartness is concerned. He had led Mr. Grabhull and Josiah a tegus chase, but at last, as I could see, glancin’ towards the lake, Josiah Allen had got a firm grip onto his mane and wuz leadin’ him back, still wearin’ the hat on his foreleg instead of his foretop. The hat wuz spilte.
The smartest creeters have their limitations. That colt could make light of Danglers and fashionable wimmen, step through their hats, tromple on ’em and leap over ’em, scatter ’em like leaves in a high gale, but when he come bunt up aginst the lake and whinnered at it, and it still lay calm and smooth before him and wuzn’t danted, he gin up that the lake wuz too big a job for him to tackle and subdue, so he stood quite meek and wuz ketched. Presently the cavalcade drawed nigh to us, and Miss Greene Smythe repeated her invitation that dear Mr. Allen must come right into the reading room, where he would find all the last papers.
“Is the World there?” sez Josiah, prickin’ up his ears at the idee, he wuz all tuckered out and wanted to set down and rest. “Oh, yes,” sez she, “the Weekly, the Daily, and the Sunday World. I will have a couple of waiters bring those papers to you,” sez she.
“Yes,” sez I, “they are hefty.”
Well, I see that Josiah wuz full of happiness in a quiet corner of that big readin’ room overlookin’ the lake, for there wuzn’t hardly a soul in it at that time, and his beloved papers stacked up in front of him some like a small haystack, he wuz fairly overrunnin’ with contentment. Mr. Grabhull had led the colt towards the stables, havin’ persuaded it to lay off its hat, and one of the waiters wuz leadin’ the old mair.
Then I turned and silently follered Miss Greene Smythe up to her room. Lots of men wuz to work hangin’ draperies and puttin’ flowers up on the walls, and strings of evergreens and ribbins and makin’ it dretful pretty. But Miss Greene Smythe led the way through ’em all into what she called her boodore, and there she gin me a rockin’ chair and I sot down, she asked me to lay off my things, but I told her I guessed I wouldn’t take off my bunnet, bein’ as I would have to put it on so quick, but I loosened the strings and took off my mantilly, carefully foldin’ the tabs as I did so and holdin’ it in my lap. She called a fashionably dressed girl with a cap on, who wuz to work on a pile of satin drapery when we went in, to come and take my mantilly. But I told her I jest as lives hold it in my lap, as I should want to put it on so soon.
She looked sort o’ wonderin’ and went back to her work. I see, on lookin’ closter, that it wuz a dress of pale-blue satin with a deep velvet train, and she wuz puttin’ on the waist strings of gems of all colors, and that skirt! I am tellin’ you the livin’ truth, that velvet train wuz as long as from our bedroom to the parlor door, and I d’no but it wuz as long as from our bedroom acrost the hall into the spare room, ’tennyrate it wuz the longest skirt I ever see or expect to see, all lined with pale-pink satin.
Miss Greene Smythe sez, “I am to be Queen Elizabeth in full court dress. Here is my collar,” sez she, “and my crown,” and she showed a immense collar of white lace and a crown all covered with precious stuns in flowers and figgers, it fairly glittered and shone like the posy bed in the early mornin’ when the dew is shinin’ on it.
“I have combined,” sez she, “a Bazar, a reception, and a fancy dress ball, for there will be dancing after supper is served.”