such a profane swearer,” says I “you never swore such profane oaths in
your hull life before, as you have sense you have been on your tower.
What would your pasture say if he could hear you? And you call ’em
fools,” says I, “I guess they haint the only fools in the world!”
“Who said they _wuz_,” says he. And then he spoke up and says he, “I
guess I will go out and look at some mules, and steers.”
“Well,” says I more mildly, “Mebby you had better.” And we agreed when
it was time to go home, to meet at the Department of Public Comfort.
So Josiah went to look at the live stock, (he seemed to enjoy himself
better when he was in that situation) and I wandered round through them
wildernesses of entrancin’ beauty, perfectly happy (as it were.) I had
roamed round mebby an hour, lookin’ at the pictures and statutes that
lined the walls on every side, not mindin’ the crowd a mite, some of the
time a laughin’ and some of the time a cryin’ (entirely unbeknown to
me.) I was a standin’ in Germany, enjoyin’ myself dretfully, for the
Germans are a affectionate, social race, and their pictures of home life
are exceedin’ly interestin’ and agreeable, to one who loves home as does
she, whose name was once Smith. And then there was pictures that would
make you smile, such as “Buying the Cradle,” and “The Disagreement.” And
there was lovely landscapes, and grand and inspirin’ pictures. I had
jest been a lookin’ at “Christ Appearing to Mary Magdelane,” a noble
picture; our Saviour clad in white like Eternal Purity, and she rushing
forward with outstretched arms and her face all lit up with joy and
adoration. I had jest left this picture and was a lookin’ at “Luther
Intercepted,” and thinkin’ how sort o’ lonesome the woods looked, and
how sorry I was for Luther—when all of a sudden I heerd a awe-stricken
whisper on the nigh side of me:
[Sidenote: INTERVIEW WITH DOM PEDRO]
“There is the Emperor of Brazil! There is Dom Pedro!”
And lookin’ up I see a tall man with greyish whiskers and mustache, come
in in a quiet way with a little book in his hand, and go to lookin’ at
the pictures. For nearly three quarters of a moment I felt strange,
curious, exceedingly so. But Principle showed me jest what to do, to do
right, and Duty locked arms with me and bore me onwards, right up in
front of that noblest of men, for I felt that I ort to make some move
towards gettin’ acquainted with him. I took it right to myself; he was a
literary man; I was a literary woman; he was on a tower of investigation
and principle; I too, was on such a tower; and I knew if I should go to
Brazil to get Brazil nuts or anything, if I should happen to go to his
neighborhood to any doin’s where he was, and he shouldn’t make any move
towards gettin’ acquainted with me, I should feel hurt. I shouldn’t be
mad, but it would grieve me—work on my feelin’s. And so thinks’es I, I
wont stand on no ceremony but do as I would be done by, and scrape
acquaintance with him.
[Illustration: SAMANTHA MEETS DOM PEDRO.]
I am very polite when I set out to be. Anybody to see me appear
sometimes, would almost think I was born in a meetin’ house. I have a
very noble way to me sometimes, it comes natural, and I put on now, the
very best mean I had by me, and curchied nobly. And though I do say it
that shouldn’t, I can make as good lookin’ a curchy as any woman of my
age and size when I set out. Of course I can’t put in all the little
curious motions I could if I weighed less than two hundred, but I did
well. And jest as I got through curchyien I spoke up in a very polite,
but calm tone: “How do you do Mr. Pedro?”
They call him Dom, a nickname for Dombey, I s’pose. But I always think
it looks better for females to be sort o’ reserved and dignified, and so
I called him Mr. Pedro. And says I, “I will make you acquainted with
Josiah Allen’s wife.”
He looked at me kinder searchin’ like, and then when I had a full look
at him, I could see that he looked well. Though, like myself, he
couldn’t be called handsome, he had a good look to his face. His eyes
had that sort of a weary look, considerable sad, and considerable
hopeful too, and very deep and searchin’, jest as if they had looked a
good deal at things that worried and perplexed him; just as if they had
looked at bigotry, and prejudice, and ignorance, and then seen, clear
acrost ’em the sunlight of education, and freedom, and true religion a
dawnin’ on the land he loved. I don’t know when I have seen a face that
I liked better. And my admirin’ and reverential emotions riz up so that
I never spoke about the weather—or asked him whether he was enjoyin’
good health, or whether Miss Pedro and the rest of his folks was as well
as could be expected, or anything—but I spoke right up and says I in
tones tremblin’ with emotion:
“I have been on towers before, Mr. Pedro, and have felt noble and grand
on ’em, but never did I feel so lifted up on any tower as I do now.
Never, never, did I meet a literary man that I feel such emotions
towards, either on a tower or offon it.”
And as I went on I grew more and more agitated, and eloquent; why, I
felt so eloquent that I see there wasn’t no use to try to stop myself,
and I says in fearfully noble axents:
“When a man in a lofty station like yourn, instead of spendin’ his days
admirin’ himself, works earnest, hard work to benefit the people God
placed in his keepin’; studies day and night how to advance their
interests, in every way, and raise them up and make them prosperous and
happy; that man Mr. Pedro, raises himself from 35 to 40 cents in my
estimation. And when that literary, and noble minded man gets down out
of his high chair—soft as royalty and a people’s devotion can make
it—and sets off on a tower to collect information to still further
benefit them, he raises himself still further up in my estimation, he
still further endears himself to her whose name was formally Smith.
For,” says I wipin’ my heated forward, “I feel a sympathizin’ feelin’
for him; I too, am literary, and a investigator in the cause of right, I
too am on a tower.”
He looked dretful sort o’ earnest at me, and surprised. I s’pose it kind
o’ took him back, and almost skairt him to see a woman so awful
eloquent. But I kep’ right on, unbeknown to me. Says I “Some kings look
down on the people as if they was only dust for their throne to rest on;
while _they_ set up on it, with their crown on, a playin’ with their
septer, and countin’ over their riches and admirin’ themselves. But,”
says I, “such feelin’s felt towards the people makes the waves of angry
passions rise up below, muddy waves of feelin’, underminin’ the throne,
and tottlin’ it right over. But when a ruler plants the foundations of
his throne in Justice, and goodness, and the hearts of his people, they
are firm foundations, and will stand a pretty good shakin’ before
tumblin’ down.”
Says I (still entirely unbeknown to me) “Some folks thinks it lifts ’em
up and makes ’em higher and nobler, if they have somebody beneath ’em to
look down on and feel contemptuous towards; but it haint Christ-like.
And they who are the most like Him, the loftiest, truest souls, have the
most generous and helpful spirit, the tenderest compassion for them who
are accounted beneath them. They would much rather offend an equal, than
to add, by a word or a look, to the burdens of those already burdened by
a sense of their poverty and inferiority. And that is one reason why I
always liked the sun Mr. Pedro, why I always fairly took to him: because
he is so great and noble and royal hearted, and with all his kingly and
soarin’ grandeur, has such awful tender streaks to him, so thoughtful
and helpful to the little neglected cast off things of the earth. If he
turns the cold shoulder to any one, it is to the high, the hauty, and
the big feelin’. How different he appears how much more cold and icy his
mean is to the loftiest mountain peaks, to what it is to the little
cowslip blow and blue-eyed violet down by the swamp, or the low grasses
growin’ in fence corners and by the door-steps of the poor. How warm and
almost tender he is to them, never twittin’ them of their worthlessness
and how much he has done for them, but smilin’ right down on ’em,
helpin’ ’em to grow, and makin’ no fuss about it. Not a mite afraid of
losin’ his dignity the sun haint, when he is bendin’ himself down to
lift up a myrtle blow, or encourage a skairt little dandelion, trampled
down by the side of the road. He has got a big job of shinin’ on his
hands. He has took the job of lightin’ the world, and he haint got no
time or disposition to be exclusive and nurse his dignity, as little
naters do, and he don’t need to.”
I knew by the expression of Mr. Pedro’s face, that he mistrusted that I
was comparin’ him to the sun, and bein’ so modest—jest like all great
naters—it was fairly distressin’ to him. And givin’ a glance round the
room, at the noble pictures, and gorgeous doin’s, he says:
“I congratulate you all Madam, on your great display. I see much to
admire.”
That man is a perfect gentleman, if there ever was one. But I wasn’t
goin’ to be outdone in politeness; I wasn’t goin’ to have him feel
uncomfortable because we had better doin’s than he had to home. And so
says I, “Yes, we have got up a pretty fair show, but you mustn’t think
we have such doin’s every day Mr. Pedro. Columbia has got her high
heeled shoes on, as you may say, and is showin’ off, tryin’ to see what
she can do. She has been keepin’ house for a hundred years, and been a
addin’ to her house every year, and repairin’ of it and gettin’ housen
stuff together, and now she is havin’ a regular house warmin’, to show
off, what a housekeeper she is.”
Again he said with that courteous and polite look of hisen: that “it was
a grand, and instructive scene; nothing like it had met his eyes in his
own land. He didn’t blame the nation for the pride they felt, it was
deserved; the display was grand, magnificent, and the country was
prosperous; in traveling through it he had been delighted and amazed.”
I thought then, he was so generous, and praised us up so, it would be
polite for me to sort o’ run ourselves down, a very little. Principle
wouldn’t let me run far, and says I:
“Yes, our American Eagle has laid quite a pile of eggs and hatched out
quite a quantity of likely growin’ states and territories, and I don’t
know as she ort to be blamed too much if she does cackle pretty loud,
and look as wise, and satisfied, and knowin’ as a hen turkey.”
And then thinkin’ it would be very polite in me to turn the subject away
from our national and personal glory, I spoke out in as friendly a tone
as I had by me—for I truly felt as if the nation and I couldn’t do too
much, or say too much to show our admiration and appreciation for the
smartest and sensiblest monarch we ever had amongst us. Says I in a real
neighborly tone:
“How is your wife, Mr. Pedro? How glad I should be if you and she could
come to Jonesville before you go down home, and make us a good visit;”
says I, “I would love to git acquainted with her and so would Josiah;
and I don’t s’pose I shall ever git so far from home as Brazil, for
Josiah and me don’t visit much anyway, and South America seems to be
sort o’ out of our way. But”—says I, in that same friendly, and almost
affectionate manner—“don’t wait for us Mr. Pedro, if you and she can
come now, or after you git home, come right up; we shall be glad and
proud to see you at any time.” And then I happened to think, what I had
heerd about her enjoyment of poor health, and says I, “How is Theresy’s
lameness now, does she git any the better of it?”
He thanked me dretful polite, and said she “wasn’t any better.”
“Did she ever try any arneky?” says I, “I do believe if she should try
that and yarrer, she would git help.”
He said he didn’t think she ever had.
“Well,” says I, “I can recommend it to her, and I haint the only one. If
she has any doubts of its bein’ good, let her go right to Miss Archibald
Gowdey and she’ll convince her.” Says I, “Miss Gowdey told me with her
own mouth that her brother’s wife’s grandmother was bed rid with
lameness and she took arneky and wormwood, half and half, and steeped
’em up in vinegar, and put in one or two red peppers to git up a
circulation on the outside, and took boneset and yarrer on the inside,
and in three weeks time she felt like a new critter—could have waltzed
if it wasn’t for her principles (she was a Methodist and wouldn’t be
catched at it.) And I believe my soul if Miss Pedro should try it she
would feel the good effects of it. And you tell her from me that if she
haint brought up any herbs with her, or got any good vinegar by her,
I’ll furnish her in welcome and it shant cost her a cent. I have got a
piller case full of yarrer, and other herbs accordin’, and as good a
hogset of vinegar as ever made its own mother.”
He felt well, Mr. Pedro did. He kinder laughed with his eyes, he took it
so well in me, and he said he’d “mention it to the Empress.”
“Well,” says I, “so do; she needn’t be a mite afraid of takin’ the
boneset and yarrer, for we have used ’em in our own family. My Josiah is
kinder spindlin’, springs and falls, and I give it to him.” Says I,
“Josiah looked so bad when he began to take it last fall that I was
awful afraid I shouldn’t winter him through. He looked like a bean
pole.”
All of a sudden, jest as I said bean pole, a thought came to me that
mortified me awfully. Comin’ off so sudden as I had from his Theresy’s
sickness onto my Josiah’s, bewailin’ their two feeblenesses as I had,
and dwellin’ so on their two enjoyments of poor health, I didn’t know
but he would think I was a actin’ some like Hamlet’s ghost, I have heerd
Thomas J. read about, “Movin’ on towards a design.”
And I wouldn’t have him think so for the world, or git any false idees
or false hopes and expectations into his head. Mr. Pedro is a sensible,
smart, good-hearted feller; we are both literary, and investigatin’, and
our minds are congenial, very. But if my Josiah should die off, I never
should marry again, never. Life nor death can’t part two souls that are
bound completely up in each other. No, when the clay that wraps them two
souls round drops away from one of ’em, it only makes ’em nearer to each
other. And so in the name of Principle I mildly but firmly sort o’
changed the conversation, and told him “Be sure and give my best
respects to Miss Pedro, and tell her not to feel hurt at all if I don’t
call on her while we are here to the village, for we can’t stay more
than three days longer anyway, for we have got a settin’ hen that must
be seen to, and other important business that calls us home. And we have
got sights and sights of things to see before we go, and so have you I
know; so I wont detain you another minute, though I’d love to visit with
you longer.” And then I curchied again the best I knew how, and he bowed
very pleasant and agreeable. I went and set down again for a few moments
and Mr. Pedro walked round the room a little more, a lookin’ at the
pictures and talkin’ with some of his mates, and they’d look at me every
little while, dretful smilin’. They felt friendly to me I know, I had
appeared well, I knew it and they knew it. There was a woman amongst ’em
that a bystander standin’ by me said was the Empress. But I knew better;
I knew if it had been his wife, Mr. Pedro would have made me acquainted
with her, and been glad of the chance.
I did not see Josiah when I entered into the Department of Public
Comfort. But there were enough there to be sociable; you wouldn’t be apt
to feel lonesome. Never! never was I so nearly crushed, never did I see
such a crowd; our faces were all red, our bodies wet with perspiration
and sweat; I can compare our situation to nothin’ but red rossberrys
when you make jam of ’em. It was truly a tegus time. And I sithed out to
myself several times, “Is this a Department of Comfort Samantha? Tell me
Josiah Allen’s wife is this Comfort, or what is it?” I would thus
question myself almost wildly as I made nearly frantic efforts to keep
my breath in my body, and my body hull and sound on the outside of my
breath. Finally, I got kinder wedged in so my back was to the wall, and
I began to breath easier, and feel happy. But little as I thought it, a
worse trial was in front of me.
There was a tall sepulchral lookin’ chap standin’ right by the side of
me, and I s’pose seein’ I had such a friendly and noble mean on me, he
began to talk with me about the Sentinal and so 4th. And finally puttin’
on a kind of a confidential, but important look, he says:
“Keep your composure mom, and don’t be afraid of me, I am a lecturer
mom.”
He see by my mean that I wasn’t skairt, and he went on and continued:
“Yes, I am a lecturer on spiritualism,” and says he, “Do you believe in
spirits mom?”
“Yes,” says I “some.” And I added in a cautious tone for I didn’t like
his looks a mite. “What spirits do you mean, and how many?”
“Why spirits,” says he, “common spirits.”
“Well” says I “I believe in the spirit of true Christianity, and the
spirit of the age, and on bein’ in good spirits all you can, and when
you see meanness a goin’ on, in bein’ sort o’ proud spirited; and I
believe in spirits of turpentine, and—”
But he interrupted of me. “I see Madam you are ignorant of our glorious
spirit manifestations. Oh what a time we had last night.”
“What did they manifest,” says I calmly, “and how many?”
“Why,” says he, “Elizabeth Browning tipped the table over nobly last
night. I never see Elizabeth do better. She would catch our hats off,
and grab hold of our hands; I tell you Lib was lively last night. And
George Washington! I never see George git friskier than he did. He would
ontie us, jest as fast as anybody would tie us up; George would.”
“Well,” says I calmly, “the Bible says ‘we shall be changed,’ and truly
I should think as much, though I can’t say as the change would be for
the better if George Washington haint found no better employment for his
immortal soul than ontyin’ tow strings. And truly the change in Mrs.
Browning is great, if she feels like catchin’ off men’s hats, and
grabbin’ holt of their hands, and foolin’ round.”
Says he rollin up his eyes: “That unseen world, the land we come from so
lately and will return to so soon, is very near to us; it is all round
and about us; only a breath divides us from it. Who dare deny that we
get tidings from it? Who dare deny that voices of warning, or greeting
comes to us, exiles from that true fatherland, home of the soul?”
He was nearly eloquent, and says I in reasonable axents, “I haint denied
it, only it seems to me that anything so sweet and solemn and holy would
be revealed to us in some other way than through the legs of a pine
table. It does seem to me that He who rides on the whirlwind and the
clouds, and who has the winds and waves for His messengers, wouldn’t
find it necessary to tie a man up in a little bass-wood box in order to
reveal His will to us. Howsumever, I don’t say it haint so, I only tell
my own idees; other folks have a right to theirn. But I told him I
guessed I would be excused from goin’ to see the spirits perform, as I
didn’t seem to have no drawins that way.”
He acted surly, but I didn’t care a mite; and jest that minute I see my
pardner a tryin’ to enter into the abode of Comfort. I will not try to
paint my agony nor hisen, on our way to each other, and on our way out.
Josiah groaned out that he had had enough Comfort to last him the hull
of a long life; and I groaned back again that a very little more Comfort
would have been the death of me. But we got out alive, which we felt was
indeed a blessin’.
[Illustration]
VARIOUS MATTERS.
The next day was Sunday, and if it hadn’t been we couldn’t have gone
anywhere. We was sick critters, me and Josiah both; a sort of a Collery
Morbeus. Some called it the Sentinal gripe. It was very fashionable to
have it, though that didn’t make a mite of difference with Josiah or me;
we don’t foller up the fashion so close as some do. Fashion or no
fashion, it wasn’t nothin’ we wanted. Josiah felt better towards night,
and went out for a little walk, and when he come back, says he:
“The ‘Creation Searchers’ got into a real scrape last night; was took up
for vagrants and shet up in the Station House, the hull ten on ’em.”
“How you talk!” says I.
“Yes, I met Sam Snyder jest now and he told me all about it. You see
their spectacles blinded ’em so, not bein’ used to ’em, that they got to
wanderin’ off, and got lost and couldn’t find the way back, till it got
most midnight, and the policemen took ’em up, thinkin’ they was either
crazy or fools. It seems they’d all stand in a row, and tell him they
was ‘Creation Searchers,’ thinkin’ it would scare him; and he’d holler
back to ’em, that he’d ‘Creation Search’ ’em, if they didn’t move on.
And then they’d tell him they was ‘World Investigators;’ and he’d tell
’em he’d ‘investigate’ ’em with a club if they didn’t start along. Then
they’d try to scare him again. They would all stand still and tell him
they was ‘takin’ moments of the Sentinal, and collectin’ information;’
and he’d sass ’em right back, that he’d help ’em to ‘information;’ and
then he’d kick ’em. I s’pose they had a awful time, but he got help and
shet ’em up.”
[Illustration: IN TROUBLE.]
[Sidenote: THE “CREATION SEARCHERS” AT THE SENTINAL]
Says I firmly,—“Them spectacles will be the ruination of ’em, Josiah.”
“I know it,” says he, “but they have got a reputation to keep up, and
will wear ’em.”
The next mornin’, feelin’ sort o’ weak and mauger, we thought we would
ride to the Sentinal; and jest as we stepped out into the street, a man
from the Grand Imposition Hotel hailed a big covered wagon, and it
stopped and he got in. It was jest as full as it could be, seeminly; but
the driver said there was “sights of room,” so we got in.
I thought I had seen close times, and tight times, in days that was past
and gone, but I found that I knew nothin’ about the words. Why, a tower
two miles in length, like that, would have been my last tower. It wasn’t
so much that I hadn’t a mite of room, and stood on nothin’, and was
squeezed to that extent that a corset was as unnecessary as blinders on
a blind man; but I expected the ruff would come onto me every minute,
such a tramplin’ round on it. And there I was with my arms pinned to my
sides as close as if I was broke in to and they was bandaged to me for
splinters. Oh! the tegusness of that time! And my pardner, another mummy
by my side, a sweatin’ more prespiration than I would have thought
possible, and couldn’t git his hands to his face, to save him; and we a
groanin’, and more men a clamberin’ up on the outside, and hangin’ on
with one hand, and more wimmen dragged up to suffer on the inside. Oh,
never! never! did 10 cents buy such a terrible amount of bodily and
mental agony as that 10 cents did.
[Sidenote: MACHINERY HALL]
But it passed away (the wagon) as all other sufferin’ will, if you give
it time. The little turnin’ stile creaked round with us, and we started
straight for Machinery Hall, for Josiah said he fairly hankered after
seein’ the big “Careless Enjun,” and the great “Corrupt Gun.” The minute
we entered into that buildin’ we had sunthin’ to think about.
We went through the three avenues. Josiah thought they was forty miles
in length, each one of ’em. I, myself, don’t believe they was, though
they was very, very lengthy, and piled completely full of usefulness,
beauty and distraction. Every trade in the known world a goin right on
there before our face and eyes, and we a walkin’ along a seein’ of
’em:—jewelers a jewelin’; rubber shoemakers a rubbin’; weavers, of all
sorts and kinds, a weavin’; and bobbins a bobbin’; rock-crushers a
crushin’; fanners a fannin’; lacers a lacin’; silk-worms a silkin’;
butterfly-makers a butterflyin’; paper-makers a paperin’; printers, of
all kinds, a printin’; and gas-makers a gassin’; elevators a elevatin’;
steamers a steamin’; and pumpers a pumpin’; sewin’ machines a sewin’;
braiders a braidin’; and curlers a curlin’; rollers a rollin’; and
gymnastickers a gymnastickin’; wrenchers a wrenchin’; chucks a chuckin’;
drills a drillin’ and gaugers a gaugin’; railroad signals, and frogs;
switches a switchin’; bridges; railroads; steamships; threshin’
machines, all in full blast; and cataracks a catarackin’; and if there
was anything else in the known world that wasn’t a goin’ on there, I
would love to have somebody mention it.