It was a picture handsomer than any of ’em, framed by Thomas J., that hung up in our parlor. Close by the winder, and right in front of it, was a rose-bush and a wax bull, full of bright scarlet, and snow-white berries. And over ’em flamed out a maple, dressed up in more colors than Joseph’s coat, and each color perfectly beautiful. The birds wus a-singin’ to the branches, sweet, and strong, and earnest, and though I couldn’t understand a word they said, still it was a very happyfyin’ song to me. Through some of the maple branches I could see the blue sky a-shinin’ down; but lower down, through the boughs of the rose and wax bulls, I could see the east, a-lookin’ handsomer than I ever remembered seein’ the east look. It seemed as if it had fairly outdone itself, a-tryin’ to make a levely and beautiful startin’ place for the sun, to set out from on his daily tower. The sun seemed to enjoy it dretfully, havin’ such a levely home to set out from. It seemed to look so extremely attractive to him, that I knew, unless somethin’ uncommon happened, he would be punctual to be back there to the very minute, the next mornin’. And thinks’es I to myself, (for moral eppisodin’ has become almost a 2d or 3d nater to me), if home was always made so bright and attractive there would be other sons and heads of families that would be more punctual and delighted to get back to their startin’ places and homes at the exact minute. But I probably didn’t eppisode on this theme more’n a moment or a moment and a ½, though it is as noble and elevatin’ a theme as ever was eppisoded on, for another thought came to me, almost overpowerin’ly, as I see the sun a settin’ out so grand, and noble, and happy on his tower. The thought that come to me wus this; I wished that I too could set on a short tower. I had staid to home for quite a spell. And though home is the best spot in the hull world for a stiddy diet, still the appetite calls fur spices, and different sorts of food. Human nater, and especially wemen human nater likes a change and variety. And it does come kinder natural to a wemen to want to go a-visutin’, now and then, and sometimes oftner. I had been a-wonderin’ it over in my mind for a number of days, though as yet I had not tackled Josiah upon the subject, not knowin’ how he would take it, but knowin’ well that men do not feel as wimmen do about visatin’.
The county fair wus to be held the next week, at Dover town, sixteen miles from Janesville. And I had two aunts there, Sophrenia Cypher, she that was Sophrenia Burpy, my mother’s own sister, and married to Solomon Cypher’s only brother, and then she that wus, and now is, Samantha Ann Burpy, my mother’s youngest sister. A maiden lady, livin’ on a independent property of her own, with a hired girl, and sound and excellent principles. I wus named after her, and set a sight of store by her. She hain’t an old maid from necessity, far from it, she had chances. I hadn’t visited them for over five years, and never wus to a county fair in my life; and as I lay there on my goose-feather pillow, a seein’ the sun set out and travel gloriously on his tower, I thought to myself how sweet it would be if I and my Josiah could go and do likewise. Could go to Dover town, visit our aunts and attend to the fair. But studyin’ as deep as I had studied on the subject of men’s dispositions, I felt that I must be as wise as a serpent, and harmless as a dove. And so I gently and almost tenderly punched my companion with my elbow, and seys, in awful, affectionate axents:
“Josiah!”
“What is the matter?” says he, a wakin’ up sudden. “What are you goarin me with your elbow for?”
His tone and his demeaner would have strick dismay to the heart of a weaker wemen, but I kep’ right on, and said to him, in still more tender and affectionate axents:
“Josiah, you seem to me to be a runnin’ down, I am alarmed about you, Josiah Allen.”
“Oh, shaw!” says he, and it was as fractious and worrysome a “shaw,” as I ever heard shawed in my hull life.
But I continued on and continued, knowin’ that perseverance was requisit’ and necessary.
Says I, “You cannot conceal it from your pardner, Josiah; you are not in one-half so good order as you wus in.”
“Wall! what of it? What if I hain’t?” he snapped out awful snappish.