VI.
THE MARRIAGE OF JOHNNY BEEDLE.[[9]]
Since I came out in print about my sleigh-riding, and frolicing, and courting, I have entered into the matrimonial state, and left off dabbling in the newspapers: for a married man has a character to take care of. But folks tease and torment me so much to let ’em know the particulars about my marriage, that I don’t know that I had best sit down once for all, and tell the rest of my experience.
When I left off, I believe I was spunking up to Sally Jones like all vengeance, and threatening to give her the butt-end of my sentiments, wasn’t I? Well, I was as good as my word. The next Sabbath-day I went right to work, after meeting, upon the outer man, as Deacon Carpenter says, and by sundown, things looked about right. I say nothing; but when I stood up to the glass to finish, and thought of titivating hair and wiskers, and so forth, I saw a little fellow there that looked wicked, and says I, “If Sally Jones knows which side her bread is buttered—but no matter, she shan’t say I didn’t give a chance.”
“Well, I went over to the Squire’s, pretty well satisfied in my own mind; so, after flattering and crowing about her a little while, I up and shew the cloven foot.
“Sally,” says I, “will you take me for better or worser?”
This put her to considering, and I gave a flourishing about the room, and cut a carly-cue with my right foot, as much as to say, “Take your own time.”
At last, says she, “I’d as liv’s have you as anybody in the world, John, but—I declare I can’t.”
“You can’t, ha! And why?”
“Cause—”
“Cause what?”