I know that I have repeated these words of advice and warnin’ anon or oftener, but it is only because I have such a tender feelin’ for my sister wimmen who are placed in the tryin’ position of pardners. And I want ’em, oh, how I want ’em! to do the best they can with what they have to do with. But I am eppisodin’, and to resoom.
We sot out for Hamenses about half-past ten on that pleasant mornin’. All over the dooryard and about the house hung the soft silence of the early mornin’. The birds wuz singin’ in the lilock bushes by the clean doorstep. The branches of the trees hung low down in the orchard. The sunshine lay in the dooryard in golden patches flecking the green grass between the shade trees and on the clean painted doorway and the winders. And I knew and Josiah knew that we shouldn’t see no such sunshine agin till we see this same light shinin’ in our dooryard and the white curtained winders of home.
Well, we had a pleasant drive, with no eventful events to disturb it till we got near to Hamenses house at about a quarter to twelve. As we wuz a-goin’ down the hill pretty clost to his house I methought I hearn sunthin’ wrong, a rattlin’ sound amongst the iron framework of our conveyance, and I mentioned the fact to my pardner. He then intimated that I had frequently called his attentions to similar things on similar occasions (he didn’t word it in this way, no, it wuz a shorter way and fur terser).
But I knew I wuz in the right on’t, and begged him to git out and see about it. But he vowed he wouldn’t git out, he even made a oath to confirm it. “Dum” wuz the word he used to confirm the fact that he would not git out. But the very next minute one of the wheels come off, and he did git out. Yes, he got out, and I did, too. He got out first, and I kinder got out after him. It wuz sudden!
Everything seemed sort o’ mixed up and sick to the stomach to me for quite a spell. But when conscientiousness returned I found myself layin’ there right in my tracts, and what made it more curious and coincidin’ I had a bundle of tracts that her old pasture, Elder Minkley, had sent to Tamer Ann. He worried over her readin’ dime novels so much, and he had sent her these tracts, “The Truthful Mother and Child; or, The Liar’s Doom,” and one wuz, “The Novel Reader’s Fate; or, The Crazed Parent.”
Well, I lay there feelin’ curious, Josiah tryin’ to keep the horse from tromplin’ on me, and he wuz, I could see, agitated in the extreme about me, though I had said faintly from where I lay:
“I hain’t killed, Josiah,” and, as he seemed by his looks to doubt my assurance and mourn for me as lost, I sez agin:
“I am not dead, Josiah,” and I added in faint axents, “Have I bent my bunnet much?”
And he sez, “Dum the bunnet!” And I didn’t blame him a mite when I come to think it over. How sure it is that sudden reverses of fortune brings out the flower of love in full bloom! As I lay there kinder stunted I felt that I loved my companion and wuz well aware how he worshipped me.
I spoze my remark about the bunnet had took the edge off from his anxiety, and he felt that I wuz alive and considerable comfortable. And at that very minute the mair, bein’ hit on the heel by the thill Josiah wuz liftin’ up, kicked up both of the hind ones (heels) and sot off back to Jonesville, my pardner runnin’ after her as he still had holt of the lines. As I said I laid there feelin’ dretful curious, for I couldn’t for my life git up, I spoze I wuz stunted by my fall.