LETTER IV.
Pineville, December 27th, 1842.
Dear Sir,
Crismus is over, and the thing’s ded. You know I told you in my last letter I was gwine to bring Miss Mary up to the chalk a Crismus. Well, I done it, slick as a whistle, though it come mighty nigh bein’ a serious undertakin’. But I’ll tell you all about the whole circumstance.
The fact is, I’s made my mind up more’n twenty times to jest go and come rite out with the whole business; but whenever I got whar she was, and whenever she looked at me with her witchin’ eyes, and kind o’ blushed at me, I always felt sort o’ skeered and fainty, and all what I made up to tell her was forgot, so I couldn’t think of it to save me. But you’s a married man, Mr. Thompson, so I couldn’t tell you nothing about popin’ the question as they call it. It’s a mighty grate favour to ax of a rite pretty gall, and to people as ain’t used to it, it goes monstrous hard, don’t it? They say widders don’t mind it more’n nothin’. But I’m makin’ a transgression, as the preacher ses.
Crismus eve I put on my new suit, and shaved my face as slick as a smoothin’ iron, and went over to old Miss Stallinses. As soon as I went into the parler whar they was all settin’ round the fire, Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah both laughed rite out.
“There, there,” ses they, “I told you so, I knew it would be Joseph.”
“What’s I done, Miss Carline?” ses I.
“You come under little sister’s chicken-bone, and I do b’lieve she knew you was comin’ when she put it over the dore.”