Part 20
Anon, (or nearly that time) the enjun stopped before the Woman’s Pavilion—a noble big buildin’ that filled me with such proud and lofty emotions as I looked at it, that I don’t know to what height I should have soared up to a gazin’ on it, and thinkin’ of the sect that built it, if one of them very sect weighin’ about three hundred and fifty, in gittin’ out of the car, hadn’t stepped on my foot and crushed it so fearfully that instinctively my emotions was brought right down to the ends of my toes. In two minutes more, or two and a-half, we went round the head of the dell, and though my foot still felt the effects of tramplin’, I didn’t sense it, as I looked down the beautiful shady paths, all a seemin’ to lead to some handsome buildin’ and then up at the Agricultural Buildin’, big enough (seeminly) for old Agriculture and all his family all over the country to settle down and live in; and then we went on a little further by a cheese and butter house, and Brewers’ Hall. And then the enjun turned round and we went back most to the Woman’s Pavilion, and then sailed off down the avenue of State Buildins, by Machinery Hall (big enough for every machine in the world, and several of the planetary system’s machines, as it were) clear the hull length of this buildin’, back to the place we started from.
Here Josiah would have got out, ruther than paid five cents more; but I says to him, “Never before, Josiah Allen did five cents buy pleasure for me any where near the size and heft of this pleasure;” and I added kindly but firmly, “I am goin’ round again Josiah Allen.” He argued some, but I stood firm, and round we went again’, and then twice more which made four. I paid for the two last rides out of my own pocket, and didn’t begreech the money. No sooner would we go by one grand majestic buildin’ and mebby a few smaller ones, but perfectly beautiful, than another one would rise up before us seeminly still more majesticer than the last one.
And we wouldn’t no more than git our mouths well open with great astonishment and admiration and almost extacy, and our specks well sot on ’em, before another one would rise up before us, and we with our mouths not yet shet up from the last one. Oh dear! what a time we did have in our 2 minds. And seein’ what I see wouldn’t have been half so much, if I hadn’t had such a immense quantity of emotions; and every one of ’em the very biggest and noblest size they make. Eloquent, happy emotions of patriotism and grand pride in my Nation’s honor, and majesty, and power, and glory.
Oh! what a time I did have a settin’ there crowded in body but soarin’ in soul; the eye of my speck a calmly gazin’ into the faces environin’ of me round, and not seein’ of em, (as it were) but seein’ with my mind’s eye the Spirit of ’76, a risin’ up through the ghastly clouds of war, a misty shape that Hope could jest make out; a pale face, and shadowy hands with a little handful of stars and stripes most slippin’ out of ’em.
And then to see that face growin’ brighter and brighter, and more loftier and inspired; to see both of them hands reached heavenward in triumph, holdin’ firm clasped above her head the stars and the stripes a floatin’ out over the hull land; to see them eyes full of glory and mystery bent forever onwards and outwards, a lookin’ on sunthin’ I couldn’t see if I had both eyes to my specks; to see that lofty brow crowned with the Star of Empire, and that majestic form a floatin’ in triumph from the Atlantic over the Rocky mountains, clear to the Golden Gate, while the radiance of that star, a burnin’ on that almost inspired forward, sheds a light ahead over the deep waters to some still grander future; and then to see them deep mysterious eyes of glory and prophecy a follerin’ that light outward and onward, a seein’ what I couldn’t see, nor Josiah, nor anybody.
I kep’ a feelin’ nobler and nobler every minute, and finally I told Josiah of my own accord that I wanted to git out of that little contracted car, and walk afoot again. So we got out and roamed round, walkin’ afoot down the broad noble paths, by buildins some that looked you square in the face, some a steppin’ off sideways, (seeminly) some sot down flat on the ground, sort o’ solid and heavy as if they had sot down for good, and some standin’ up on tip-toe (as it were) on the top of big high steps, as if they was a startin’ off somewhere a visitin’; and some of the curiousest shaped ones I ever see, with their ruffs pinted up, with flags a flyin’ like big darnin’ needles threaded with red, white, and blue; some sort o’ leanin’ over as if they was a meditatin’; some ruffs shaped like a sheep’s head night-cap, with a cross standin’ up out of the crown; some long ruffs supportin’ hull rows of little ruffs like offsprings. Some Gabriel ends loftier and majesticer than you can think on; some dretful kinder peaked up and polite lookin’.
Some of the housen was plain and glossy on the sides, some criss-crossed off, some up and down, some sideways. There was housen of every color that ever was colored, with winders of every shape that ever a pain was cut into, and every sort of ornament that ever a house was trimmed off with. Why some of ’em seemed to be clear ornament, and nothin’ else. There was one in particular, with a flight of stairs on each side and some little slender pillows, that seemed to be clear trimmin’. It looked as light as if it was made of air and sunshine and ornament—which it was mostly. I says to Josiah: “That would be a beautiful home for summer, Josiah, but it would be too cold and windy in the winter season for me.” A young woman, sort o’ vacant lookin’, but dressed up slick spoke out to me, and says in a sort of a uppish tone:
“It haint a house, it is a music stand.”
Says I, “It haint a stand.”
Says she, “It is.”
But I wasn’t a goin’ to be brow-beat by her, so I says in a dignified tone:
“Young woman I have seen furniture and housen stuff when you was in Nonentity, and I guess I know a stand when I see it.” Says I, “I had two black cherry stands with curly maple drawers, with my settin’ out, and I helped Josiah pick out a noble bass-wood stand for Tirzah Ann when she was married and I say that haint a stand.”
Says she, “It is; don’t you see the Muse on top with the lyre.”
But I wouldn’t look up, I had too much dignity, and I resented deeply her tryin’ to lie to me so, and I jest looked at her keenly, and says I: “I can see liars without searchin’ for ’em on the top of housen.”
Says she, “I meant one of the Muses; one of Jupiter and Mnemosyne’s daughters, with her lyre?”
Says I firmly, “I don’t care whose daughters they be. I don’t think no more of a liar because they happen to have a likely father and mother. I abominate ’em, and always did.”
I looked very sharp at her, and she felt it; her face looked red as blood, and all swelled up with mortification. But truly I had no time to waste on story tellers, or muse on their lies. Such sights as I see, such grand and imposin’ grandeur, such beautiful and soarin’ beauty; I wondered whether Paradise could have looked much better, and more foamin’; and if it did, I wondered more and more how Eve (a distant relative of mine on my mother’s side) could have done what she did do. As we walked along a broad and shady path I says:
“Never, never did I feel towards E Pluribus as I do to-day, Josiah. When I think of that old map of Grandfather Smith’s, and think how E Pluribus was huddled down there close to the shore, so insignificant and skairt lookin’ that it seemed as if it wouldn’t take but a very few more war-whoops and hatchets to tumble him right off into the Atlantic to drownd himself. And then to think how that old man has got up and spread himself out from ocian to ocian, to look round here and see this Sentinal a tellin’ to all the world how he has prospered;” says I, “never never did I feel towards E Pluribus U, as I do to-day;” and says I in tones tremblin’ with pride and thankfulness, “how do _you_ feel Josiah Allen?”
Says he firmly, “I feel as hungry as a bear.”
I calmly took two cookies out of my pocket and handed them to him, and kep’ right on: “Never! never, did I realize the size, the grandeur, the loftiness, of E Pluribus as I do now; how high and lofty he stands, Josiah Allen; how forehanded he has got.”
My lofty episodin’ tone was ruther loud, and a by stander who had been a standin’ behind me unbeknown to me spoke up and says he:
“Yes, E Pluribus has got pretty well off, but what do you think Madam of the rings he wears on his honored fingers? What do you think of his choosin’ Tweed for raiment? What do you think of his wearin’ such dirty clothin’ as he has wore of late, and so thin too, so awfully thin.”
I declare for’t, I was most mad to think of anybodys tryin’ to bring me down from the height I stood upon, by talkin’ about store clothes and jewelry; but bein’ very polite in my demeanor, I answered him mildly, that I didn’t believe in anybodys wearin’ dirty clothes, and I never had no opinion of Tweed, nor none of that kind of cloth; it was slazy, and liable to drop all to pieces, and I’d ruther look further and pay more for cloth that was firmer and would stand more of a strain.
“Yes,” says he, “that is jest my opinion, and I think if E Pluribus wants to preserve his health he must keep cleaner, and be a little more careful about the material he chooses to protect his honored form; and in my opinion, he would look fur better if he didn’t wear so many rings on his venerable fingers; money rings; and wheat rings; and railroad rings.” He went on and named over a hull lot of jewelry, but I thought to myself that he was makin’ a little too free to talk with a perfect stranger, and I answered him in pretty cold tones:
Says I, “I never approved of old men’s wearin’ jewelry;” and says I, in still more frigid tones, “I never, even in my young days thought a man looked any the better for wearin’ ear-rings;” then I drew Josiah onwards down a path that looked shady, and considerable still and quiet; but jest as we moved on a man standin’ in front of us spoke up in a awe struck tone, and says he:
“That gentleman that jest spoke to you was a English Lord.”
“Well,” says I, “Lord or no lord, I don’t over and above like his looks; he looks smart, but kinder mean.”
Jest then all of a sudden, on happenin’ to turn the eye of my speck onto a little bench under a shade tree, I see settin’ there a friend I knew; I see a face that telescopes are bein’ aimed at by the envious to spy out every little freckle, spot and wrinkle; (and where is there a complexion however light, that can stand firm under a telescope, and the strong glarin’ light of the present time, without showin’ a wrinkle?) It was the face of a man I respected, and almost loved, (a meetin’ house love, calm, yet firm as a settin’ hen.)
Without sayin’ a word, I jest drawd Josiah right up in front of him. At the first glance he didn’t know me, but I jest made him a noble curchy, and says I: “Ulysses how do you?” Says I, “The last time I see you I had the honor to rescue you from pain and poetry and Betsey Bobbet.”
Before I could say another word he took the cigar he had in his lips with one hand and reached out the other, and shook hands with me almost warmly.
“Josiah Allen’s wife, my preserver! I am glad to meet you.”
Then and there I introduced Josiah; but I was sorry to see at that moment that the knowledge that he was a talkin’ with the President of the United States, made him act bashful and meachin’; but I was that inspired and lifted up, that even my pardner’s meachin’ and almost foolish mean didn’t seem to have no effect on me. I spoke right out and says I:
“Ulysses, I never was so proud of my Nation before in my hull life as I be now, and never did I feel such feelin’s for my 4 fathers. What a undertakin’ they undertook! When a thing is done, and you are a standin’ up on the results safe and happy, then you feel well, and at rest; but the curious time, and the solemn time, is when the thing haint done, and you are a settin’ out to do it, with the risk and the uncertainty before you. When you are a steppin’ off in the darkness and don’t have no idee whether you are a steppin’ on sunthin’, or on nothin’; no idee where you are a comin’ to next. I’ve got lost in our suller several times when my candle went out, and it was a curious feelin’, Ulysses, to grope our way along in the dark not knowin’ whether we would come out all right to the bottom of the stairs, or come up sudden ag’inst the wall, or the pork barrell. I’ve fell flat a number of times, when I thought I was a steppin’ high, and doin’ the best I could; when you have reached the stairs and git holt of ’em, and Josiah has opened the door and stands there with a candle in his hand, then you feel well and safe, but you can’t forgit your curious feelin’s when you was in the dark, a gropin’ and a feelin’ and not knowin’ where you was a goin’ to.
“Now, there was a time when the colonies was a gropin’ their way along in the dark, not knowin’ where the next step would take ’em to—whether they would come out to the stairs that led up to Freedom and Liberty and happiness, or come up sudden and hard ag’inst the wall of defeat. They was walkin’ a slender, slippery pathway, and if they slipped off they knew black waters was under ’em, deep black waters, to drownd them and their posterity in. They fell a number of times, but they got up again nobly; they held firm, and stepped high, and at last they groped their way to the stairs that led up to Liberty. And by God’s help, by prayer and hard work, they mounted them stairs; and then another long flight of lofty stairs was before ’em; and they rose them stairs, and have gone up on ’em, higher and higher, ever sense to national power, and honor, and glory. And now let ’em hold firm and examine the platform they are a standin’ on.”
Ulysses smoked his cigar with a very thoughtful and attentive smoke. And oh! how sort o’ solemn and martyr-like my tone was as I went on a talkin’ to him, and a thinkin’ to myself: Here I be, advisin’ the Nation for its good—a performin’ my mission, and advisin’ the United States, E Pluribus Unim, through its chief magistrate. I felt noble and curious, fearfully so, as I continued on:
“Oh! how awful it would be for ’em, Ulysses, a standin’ up on the height they stand up on, if political rottenness should crumble away any of the tall proud ladder that holds ’em up. Oh! how it would hurt ’em to fall down flat, and lay on their backs with the ladder and platform on top of ’em. Let ’em be careful, and let ’em be prayerful; let ’em examine every inch of the lumber that they are a standin’ on; if there is a rotten spot in it, or a weak spot, or a suspicious spot, let ’em spurn it nobly; let ’em not ask wildly and blindly: ‘Did this board grow in Republican forests, or did it grow in Democratic swamps?’ Let ’em throw that question down, and trample on it; and let ’em ask this question only, and let ’em ask it in a firm loud voice: ‘_Is it a sound board?_’
“And let ’em git a straight plain answer to it, before they set foot on it. Good land! The idee of shettin’ your eyes blindly, and runnin’ up a rascal because he happens to belong to your party. As for me, when I hold a rose I don’t care a cent whether it grew in a marble basin, or in the corner of a rail fence; I only ask myself calmly, is it fresh and sweet? If it is, I treasure it highly; if it is wormy and rotten at the heart, I spurn it from me almost indignantly.
“I advise this Nation as a friend and well wisher, to worship the true God, and not make a God of party and bow down to it. I advise it to choose men for leaders, who are true, and honest and God-fearin’. Men who are more careful of their character than of their reputation; more careful to have the National capitol clean on the inside than to flower off the front gate with brass nails; more sot on the Nation’s well-bein’ and prosperity, than on a big pocket-book, or a post-office and some minin’ and railroad shares for that brother-in-law; more anxious to have a white soul, than to white-wash their sepulchres. If the Nation votes for bad men, how does it expect to have good laws?” says I almost wildly. “Tell me, Ulysses, and tell me plainly; how can you expect to be led onward in a straight path by a blind man? How can you obtain figs from thistles, or anything to carry from an ort?
“If this Nation trusts God, and prizes the great gift our 4 fathers died to leave us as it ort to be prized, who can paint the glory and splendor before it. It is the home of the oppressed, and (when its laws relatin’ to wimmen are changed slightly) the true and only land of liberty and freedom; its virtues ort to be grand and lofty and picturesque—on a big noble New World plan. It ort to be as rich in goodness, as its earth is rich in gold and silver and preciousness. Its dignity and calmness ort to be wide and level and even, like its boundless praries; and at the same time, it ort to have brilliant, unexpected streaks and flashes of dazzlin’ generosities, jest like its flashin’ water-falls. Its principles ort to be as firm and solid and high toned and soarin’ as the biggest mountain peaks on the Yo Semitry; and these solid virtues ort to be trimmed and ornamented off with consideration for the rights of others, humanity, charity, courtesy and etcetery, and they ort to be jest as pinted and as ever-green as the big pines them firm old mountains have trimmed themselves off with. It should be jest as set on follerin’ the right, and headed jest as strong that way, and be jest as deep and earnest in that flow as Niagara is in hern; turnin’ not to the right hand nor to the left, not multiplyin’ words nor foolin’, but jest keep on a mindin’ its own business, and floodin’ right on.”
[Sidenote: I ADVISE THE NATION THOUGH ITS GREAT MEN]
And then I advised the Nation (through Ulysses,) what to do in the great cause of Wimmen’s Rights. I talked eloquent on that subject, and in closin’ up I drawed his mind back a few years to the time when a great war was goin’ on between justice and injustice, and how God wrought out of it the freedom of a race, before He gave the victory. I reminded him that another great battle was goin’ on now between temperance and intemperance, and how, in that warfare, I believed God was helpin’ another race of human female beins to liberty; by showin’ to man how He enabled _them_ to win greater victories than had ever crowned _man’s_ efforts, and provin’ what _they_ would do for God and humanity if the power was given them. I told him I didn’t want to scare him or the Nation, but still it wouldn’t do no hurt for ’em to think back how God had kep’ that oppressed race from all harm while the warfare for ’em was a goin’ on, while thousands of them who had unjestly denied them their rights went down on the battle-field; and I hinted to him in a kind of a blind way, that it wouldn’t do no harm for the Nation once in a while to read over that old story of Pharioh; I told him—not knowin’ how well off they was for such readin’ in Washington—that he would find that story in the Bible.
I talked about the Heathen Chinee; I told him it seemed jest about as impossible to git a stun to keep company with a turnip, and make it its bride as to git a Chinee to fall in love with our institutions and foller ’em; and after a man had tried to git water and oil to mix in a friendly and sociable way—after he has sot and stirred ’em, and sweat over ’em for weeks and weeks, I don’t know as he would be to blame to empty the basin out for good; but then when I’d think again, I’d know it was cruel and awful to turn anybody out doors, (as it were) especially a heathen. And I knew I never could have the heart to do it, never in the world. So says I, “I cannot advise the Nation what to do. It must try to git along in this thing, without my tellin’ it what to do; it must think it over and do the very best it can.”
But on the warlike fightin’ question, I come out strong; I knew jest what advice to give the Nation, and I give it freely without money, and without price.
Says I, “I should think the Nations would all be perfectly ashamed of themselves to git together to show off their civilization and progress, when they hold on to that most barbarious of all barbarism, that ever come from Barbery. The most cruel and awful and the most simple too; why,” says I, “you’d whip a lot of school childern that would go to settlin’ their quarrels with their jack knives; you’d make ’em leave it out to their teacher, or the trustees, or somebody; you’d spank ’em till their nose bled if they didn’t, and,” says I, “childern ort to grow wiser as they grow older instead of foolisher; it haint a mite handsomer in grown folks than it is in childern.”
Says I, “Think how those bloody warfares are powerful for all sorts of evils and crimes; how they turn human beins into wild beasts of prey; think how humanity, and mercy, and purity and all goodness are trod down under the feet of the great armys; and how the more ghastly army of pestilence, and disease, and crime, and want, foller on after them—a phantom host shadderin’ the land for years, mightier for evil than the army they foller. Why Ulysses, I couldn’t begin to tell all the horrers and evils of war, not if I should stand here and talk to you till the year 1900; for it can’t be told not by mortal tongue. It is a language writ in broken hearts, and despair, and want, and agony, and madness, and crime, and death, and it takes them to read it.”
Ulysses haint much of a talker, but he took his cigar out of his mouth, and says he mildly: “How will Nations settle their difficulties then?”
“Why,” says I, “leave it out to some good man to decide upon. Let ’em have a honorable-minded Peace Commissioner. Why,” says I, “if it wasn’t for havin’ everything else under the sun on my hands, I would be one myself, and not charge a cent for my trouble.”
The Nation, (through Ulysses) seemed to take my advice first-rate; he stood it like a major, and sot peacefully and smoked that cigar in as friendly and meditatin’ a way as I ever see one smoked, and he said I spoke his mind about the Peace Commissioners. And then I spoke up and says I:
“Ulysses, I must also speak to you about Lo.”
“Lo who?” says he.
“Why,” says I, “Lo, the poor Injun.”
The minute I said Injun, he give a kind of a groan, and begun to look as fractious and worrysome as I ever see Josiah look, and says he:
“Darn Lo, anyway.”
“Well,” says I, “when I look round here, and see how nobly Uncle Sam has stood up and spread himself out here, see what wonders of glory and enchantment he has wrought for his own race, it don’t seem to me that I can bear to see him a settin’ down on the Injun race, a tryin’ to choke ’em to death. Samuel never took a posture that I hated to see worse than that posture. It haint Christian nor even dignified.”
He looked very fractious, very, and he snapped out:
“He has got to take that posture or be scalped.”
“If Samuel would let _me_ pick out postures for him, I would have him stand up so far above Lo—in mercy, and justice, and patience, and truth,—that he couldn’t reach up to his scalp; and standin’ up on that height, he might deal less in glass beads, and more in common honesty,” says I mildly.
But again Ulysses looked me full in the eye of my speck, and says he firmly:
“Darn Lo, anyway;” and at that same minute Josiah whispered to me: “Lo haint no nearer starvin’ than I am this minute.”
He did look almost famishin’; and so tellin’ Ulysses to give my love to Julia, and my best respects to Mr. Dents’es folks, and Fred and his wife, and be sure and take good care of Nelly’s baby, I curchied to him nobly and bid him good-bye.