That was a tryin’ time fer me. As a general thing, I don’t mince matters. I won’t; but now, fer reasons named, I didn’t come right out, as I should on more festive occasions. I kinder turned it off by sayin’ in a mild, yet impressive tone: “Betsey, I believe you want to do your duty; and I believe you will, if it is ever made known to you by anybody’s askin’ you.”
Sez she: “Josiah Allen’s wife, duty has always been my aim.”
Any further remarks was cut short by old Mr. Bobbet’s goin’ past, and Betsey’s hollerin’ to him to ride home with him. And she went in such a hurry, she left her magazine behind.
When Josiah got home, which was ’most night, he threw a magazine into my lap, as I sot knittin’, and sez he: “I’ll bet forty-five cents against nothin’ that you’ll lend it to some woman in less than a fortnit.” I looked at him with my most collected and stiddy gaze, and sez I; “Josiah Allen, do you consider me any of a lunytick?” He didn’t say nothin’, and agin I inquired firmly, with my eyes bent on his: “Josiah Allen, do you see any marks of luny in my glance?”
Sez he: “You are in your right mind; no trouble about that.”
“Wal, then,” sez I, “know all men”—there wasn’t any other man or woman around but Josiah, but I began jest as solemn as if I was writin’ my will—“know all men, that I, Josiah Allen’s wife, have stood it jest as long as I will, and, as fer havin’ my books ravaged to pieces, as they’ve been, I won’t. I, who set such a store by my magazines and was jest as careful to keep ’em whole and clean as I was of my Sunday bonnet, now, after all my pains, have got a lot of books on my hands so dirty that, to discern the readin’, the strongest spectacles are powerless in spots; and I have had to trapze all over the neighborhood to get their mangled remains together, to mourn over, rememberin’ what they was. Thank fortune, when I borrer anything, I know enough to take care of it. But my books!” sez I, as the memory of my wrongs flooded my sole. “My books! Old men have burnt ’em by holdin of ’em too near the light, old women have peppered ’em with Scotch snuff, young men have sowed ’em with tobacco and watered ’em with tobacco-juice, young women have greased ’em for patterns, children have stuck the leaves together with molasses and pried ’em open with their tongues; they have been cut with shears, gnawed by babies and worried by pups; they have been blackened with candle-snuff and whitened with taller; and I have had to spend money for new ones, to pay for their ravagin’ my other ones to pieces. And now,” sez I, layin’ my hand on the magazine in as impressive a manner as if I was takin’ my oath on it, “now, anybody that gets my magazines will get ’em over my prostrate form. If they want my magazine, they must subscribe for it.”
“Wal,” sez Josiah, who was standing with his back to the fire, warmin’ him, “I wish you’d get me a little somethin’ to eat; I should think it was about supper-time.”
I rose and walked with an even and majestic step into my bed-room, put the magazine into the under buro-draw, locked the draw and hung the key over my bed, and then, with a resolute face, I calmly turned and hung on the tea-kettle.