Sweet Cicely or Josiah Allen as a Politician Part 44

"And the moonlight, and sister Bobbet's and sister Minkly's candles, shone down and out, on that dear old bald head as his hat fell off, as he helped me out of the wagon.

"Memories of how I have seen it a bendin' over the Word, in hours of peace and happiness, and hours of anxiety and trouble, a readin' every time about the eternal hills, and the shadow of the Rock, and the Everlastin' Arms that was a holdin' us both up, me and Josiah, and the Everlastin' Love that was wrappin' us round, helpin' us onward by these very joys, these very sorrows.

"Memories of the midnight lamp lightin' it up in the chamber of the sick, in the long, lonesome hours before day-dawn.

"Memories of its bendin' over the sick ones in happier mornin's, as he carried 'em down-stairs in his arms, and sot 'em in their old places at the table.

"Memories of how it looked in the glare of the tempest, and under the rainbow when the storm had pa.s.sed. It stands out from a background of winter snows and summer sunshine, and has all the shadows and brightness of them seasons a hangin' over it.

"Yes, there is memories of sorrows borne by both, and so made holier and more blessed than happiness. That head has bent with mine over a little coffin, and over open graves, when he shared my anguish. And stood by me under the silent stars, when he shared my prayers, my hopes, for the future.

"That old bald head stands up on the most sacred height of my heart, like a beacon; the glow of the soul shines on it; love gilds it. And do you s'pose any other feller's head on earth could ever look so good to me as that duz? Do you s'pose I will ever have it repaired upon? never! I won't repair him. I won't have him d.i.c.kered and fooled with. Not at all.

"He'd look better to me than any other feller that ever walked on earth if he hadn't a tooth left in his head, or a hair on his scalp. As long as Josiah Allen has got body enough left to wrap round his soul, and keep it down here on earth, my heart is hisen, every mite of it, jest as he is too.

"And I'll thank the neighbors to mind their own business!" says I, kinder comin' to agin. For truly, I had soared up high above my kitchen, and gossipin' neighbors, and feller-agents, and all other tribulations. And as I lit down agin (as it were), I see he was a standin' on one foot, with his watch, a big silver one, in his hand, and gazin' pensively onto it; and he says,-

"Your remarks are worthy, mom-but somewhat lengthy," says he, in a voice of pain; "nearly nine moments long: but," says he, sort o' bracin' up agin on both feet, "I beg of you not to be too hasty. I did not come into this neighborhood to make dissensions or broils. I merely stated that I got the idee, from what they said, that your feller didn't work good."

"Didn't work good! You impudent creeter you! What of it? What if he don't work at all? What earthly business is it of yourn or the neighbors? I guess he is able to lay by for a few days if he wants to."

"You are laborin' under a mistake, mom."

"No, I hain't laborin' under no mistake! And don't you tell me agin that I be. We have got a good farm all paid for, and money out on interest; and whose business is it whether he works all day, or don't. When I get to goin' round to see who works, and who don't; and when I get so low as to watch my neighbors the hull of the time, to find out every minute they set down; when I can't find nothin' n.o.bler to do,-I'll spend my time talkin' about hens' teeth, and lettis seed."

Says he, lookin' as amiable and patient as a factory-cloth rag-babe, but as determined as a weepin' live one, with the colic,-

"You don't seem to get my meaning. I merely wished to remark that I could fix over your feller if you wanted me to"-

Oh! how burnin' indignant I wuz! But all of a sudden, down on this seethin' tumult of anger fell this one calmin' word,-Meeting- house! I felt I must be calm,-calm and impressive; so says I,-

"You need not repeat your infamous proposal. I say to you agin, that the form where Love has set up his temple, is a sacred form. Others may be more beautiful, and even taller, but they don't have the same look to 'em. It is one of the strangest things," says I, fallin' agin' a little ways down into a revery,-

"It is one of the very solemnest things I ever see, how a emotion large and boundless enough to fill eternity and old s.p.a.ce itself, should all be gathered up and centered into so small a temple, and such a lookin' one, too, sometimes," says I pensively, as I thought it over, how sort o' meachin' and bashful lookin' Josiah Allen wuz, when I married to him. And how small his weight wuz by the steelyards. But it is so, curious it can be, but so it is.

"Why Love, like a angel, springs up in the heart unawares, as Lot entertained another, I don't know. If you should ask me why, I'd tell you plain, that I didn't know where Love come from; but if you should ask me where Love went to, I should answer agin plain, that it don't go, it stays. The only right way for pardners to come, is to come down free gifts from above, free as the sun, or the showers-that fall down in a drouth- and perfectly unbeknown, like them. Such a love is oncalculatin', givin' all, unquestionin', unfearin', no d.i.c.kering no holdin' back lookin' for better chances."

"Yes, mom," says he, a twirlin' his hat round, and standin' on one foot some like a patient old gander in the fall of the year.

"Yes, mom, what you say is very true; but your elequent remarks, your very sociable talk, has caused me to tarry a longer period than is really consistent with the claims of business. As I told you when I first come in, I merely called to see if I could sell you"-

"Yes, I know you did. And a meaner, low-liveder proposal I never heard from mortal lips, be he male, or be he female. The idee of me, Josiah Allen's wife, who has locked arms with principle, and has kep' stiddy company with it, for years and years-the idee of me buyin' a feller! I dare persume to say"-

Says I more mildly, as he took up his hat and little box he had, and started for the door,-and seein' I was goin' to get rid of him so soon, I felt softer towards him, as folks will towards burdens when they are bein' lifted from 'em,-

"I dare persume to say, you thought I was a single woman, havin' been told time and agin, that I am young-lookin' for my age, and fair complected. I won't think," says I, feelin' still softer towards him as I see him a openin' the door,-

"I won't think for a minute that you knew who it was you made your infamous proposal to. But never, never make it agin to any livin' human bein', married or single."

He looked real sort o' meachin' as I spoke; and he said in considerable of a meek voice,-

"I was talkin' to you about a new feller, jest got up by the richest firm in North America."

"What difference does it make to me who he belongs to? I don't care if he belongs to Vanderbilt, or Aster'ses family. Principle-that is what I am a workin' on; and the same principle that would hender me from buyin' a feller that was poor as a snail, would hender me from buyin' one that had the riches of Creshus; it wouldn't make a mite of difference to me.

"As the poet Mr. Burns says,-I have heard Thomas J. repeat it time and agin, and I always liked it: I may not get the words exactly right, but the meanin' is,-

"Rank is only the E pluribus Unum stamp, on the trade dollar: a feller is a feller for all that."

But I'll be hanged if he didn't, after all my expenditure of wind and eloquence, and quotin' poetry, and every thing-if he didn't turn round at the foot of that doorstep, and strikin' that same patient, determined att.i.tude of hisen, say, says he,-

[Ill.u.s.tration: "CAN'T I SELL YOU A FELLER?"]

"You are mistaken, mom. I merely stopped this mornin' to see if I could sell you"-

But I jest shet the door in his face, and went off upstairs into the west chamber, and went to windin' bobbin's for my carpet. And I don't know how long he stayed there, nor don't care. He had gone when I come down to get dinner, and that was all I cared for.

I told Josiah about it when he and the boy come home; and I tell you, my eyes fairly snapped, I was that mad and rousted up about it: but he said,-

"He believed it was a sewin'-machine man, and wanted to sell me a feller for my sewin'-machine. He said he had heard there was a general agent in Jonesville that was a sendin' out agents with all sorts of attachments, some with hemmers, and some with fellers."

But I didn't believe a word of it: I believe he was mean. A mean, low-lived, insultin' creeter.

CHAPTER XIV.

Wall, Cicely died in June; and how the days will pa.s.s by, whether we are joyful or sorrowful! And before we knew it (as it were), September had stepped down old Time's dusty track, and appeared before us, and curchied to us (allegory).

Ah, yes! time pa.s.ses by swiftly. As the poet observes, In youth the days pa.s.s slowly, in middle life they trot, and in old age they canter.

But the time, though goin' fast, had pa.s.sed by very quietly and peacefully to Josiah Allen and me.

Every thing on the farm wus prosperous. The children was well and happy; the babe beautiful, and growin' more lovely every day.

Ury had took his money, and bought a good little house and 4 acres of land in our neighborhood, and had took our farm for the next and ensuin' year. And they was happy and contented. And had expectations. They had (under my direction) took a tower together, and the memory of her lonely pilgrimage had seemed to pa.s.s from Philury's mind.

The boy wus a gettin' healthier all the time. And he behaved better and better, most all the time. I had limited him down to not ask over 50 questions on one subject, or from 50 to 60; and so we got along first- rate.

And we loved him. Why, there hain't no tellin' how we did love him. And he would talk so pretty about his ma! I had learned him to think that he would see her bime by, and that she loved him now jest as much as ever, and that she wanted him to be a good boy.

And he wuz a beautiful boy, if his chin wuz sort o' weak. He would try to tell the truth, and do as I would tell him to-and would, a good deal of the time. And he would tell his little prayers every night, and repeat lots of Scripture pa.s.sages, and would ask more'n 100 questions about 'em, if I would let him.

There was one verse I made him repeat every night after he said his prayers: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see G.o.d."

And I always would say to him, earnest and deep, that his ma was pure in heart.