Part 21
So we wended our way along, the eye of my speck takin’ in the heavenly beauty of the scene, when all of a sudden Josiah spoke up, and says he: “What a pity it is that they are a goin’ to licence the Sentinal.”
I stopped stun still, leggo of his arm, and turned right round and faced my pardner. “Licence the Sentinal, Josiah Allen!” says I.
“Yes,” says he, “they be, and they are tryin’ hard not to have no Sunday neither.”
“A tryin’ to have the Sentinal not keep Sunday?”
“Yes,” says he.
Says I firmly, “Who is the man to go to, to advise the Nation through in this matter? Never! never! did my mission as a Advisor soar up before me more promiscously. Who is the man Josiah Allen?”
Says Josiah, “I have heerd that Gen. Hawley is the head one. But it haint his doin’s; he has been tewed at, night and day.”
I drawed my companion onwards, almost wildly, he a hangin’ back and in pitiful axents, sayin’ to me:
“Do less go back to the tarvern Samantha and git sunthin’ to eat before we traipse off any further; do you want me to faint away on your hands?”
Says I, “You must have a different appetite from what _I_ have, Josiah Allen, if you can swaller your conscience and set down at your ease, while the Nation is a destroyin’ herself. I _must_ advise her about this matter instantly and at once, before it is too late. But you can go home if you want to. Principle will be my pardner, and go a lockin’ arms with me.”
“I shall go if _you_ do,” says he in a cross surly voice. “I s’pose I can starve it out;” and then he says almost mekanically, (as it were,) “Gen. Hawley is a handsome feller, they say.”
“Well,” says I in a almost dry tone, “you needn’t worry about that; what if he is? I should be ashamed of myself Josiah Allen, to go to bein’ jealous in such a time as this.”
“Who said I _was_?” says he.
I didn’t multiply no more words, and a policeman happenin’ to come along that minute, I says to him:
“Can you tell me where to find Gen. Hawley?”
Says he, “You will probably find him in the ‘Buro of Installation.’”
“In a _buro_!” says I coldly. “Do you s’pose young man, that I am a goin’ to crawlin’ and creepin’ round into buro draws? Do you s’pose, at my age, and with my dignity I’m a goin’ to foller any man into a buro? Gropin’ round, tryin’ to find somebody in a buro draw.”
[Sidenote: INTERVIEW WITH GEN. HAWLEY]
His face looked red—he see I wasn’t to be imposed upon—and he pinted out the room where we should be apt to find him, he a goin’ most there with us; and anon, or about that time, I found myself in the presence of Gen. Hawley, a shakin’ hands with him and a introducin’ Josiah. He was lookin’ over a lot of papers, but he looked up dretful sort o’ pleasant, and in that tryin’ and almost curious time, I couldn’t help thinkin’ that Josiah was in the right on’t about his looks; for never, on a tower, or off on it, did I ever see a franker, nobler, honester, well meanin’er face than hisen. I never asked him whether he was enjoyin’ good health, or poor, but I says right out: “Joseph,” (I knew his name was Joseph, and I thought he would take it more friendly in me if I called him that, and it would look more familiar in me—as if my noble mission didn’t make me feel above him.) “Joseph,” says I, “I have come to advise you as a P. A. about what I have discovered as a P. I.”
He looked up at me from the awful pile of papers, sort o’ dreamy and wonderin’, and I come out plainer still, and says I, “Joseph, tell me; is it true that the Nation has licenced the Sentinal to git drunk, and not to keep no Sundays?” And says I, “Haint it the time for the Nation, if ever, for her to put her best foot forred, and if she has got any remnants of Puritan habits, and religion, and solid principles, to show ’em off? Haint it time to brush the dirt and dust off of Plymouth Rock, and let the world git a glimpse of the old original stun? Why,” says I, “if the Mayflower could float back again from the past, and them old Mayflowers should hear what this Nation is a doin’, they would say they was glad they was dead.”
Joseph looked as if he felt what I said deeply. But he went on in a sort of apologisin’ way, about his wantin’ to treat our fureign guests with courtesy—and some of them was accustomed to beer and wine-drinkin’ to home, and wasn’t in the habit of havin’ Sundays, and so 4th and so 4th.
“But,” says I in tremblin’ tones: “when a mother is weepin’ over the ruin of what was once her son, and tracin’ back his first love of strong drink to this place of beauty and enchantment, it wont remove her agony nor hisen, to think it was done to please the German, Dutch, or Tunicks, or even Turkeys.” Says I, “If the Nation gives her lawful consent and lets the Sentinal drink all the beer and wine it wants to in 1876, in 1976 she will reap the seed she is a plantin’ now; and if you happen to see me then, Joseph, you tell me if I haint in the right on’t. And then, not havin’ no Sundays! I never in my hull life see anything look so shiftless,—when we haint been out of Sundays for 1800 years, to all flat out now and not have none,—it would look poor as poverty in us.”
He said it was handier for some folks; they could come better Sundays than any other day.
“Handier!” says I, in a almost dry tone, “it would be awful handy for me sometimes, to do my week’s washin’ Sundays, or knit striped mittens, or piece up bed-quilts, but you don’t catch me at it.” Says I “Had we ort to begreech one day out of the week to Him who give us the hull of ’em?” And says I, “I don’t blame you a mite for wantin’ to make our fureign visitors feel to home, and use ’em well; but when I go a visitin’ I don’t expect ’em to kill off their grandmothers if I don’t happen to like the looks of the old lady and haint used to grandmothers. Good land! how simple it would be in me to expect it.”
Says Joseph, “Josiah Allen’s wife, you have presented the subject to me in a interestin’ and eloquent manner.” Says he, “The other matter is out of my power to change, but as for Sundays, I will get ’em back again; I will have ’em.”
Oh, how earnest and good he did look out of his eyes (a bright blueish-grey) as he said this, and how fearfully handsome. And I a thinkin’ to myself—here I be advisin’ the Nation for her good, and she a takin’ my advice. I felt noble, very. If I could have accomplished both of my undertakin’s, I don’t know but I should have felt _too_ noble; but we all, like Mr. Paul, if we go to soarin’ up too high, have to have a thorn in the flesh to prick us and keep us down in our place. So I bid Joseph a almost affectionate good-bye, and Josiah and me started homewards.
DOIN’ THE MAIN BUILDIN’.
The next mornin’ I told Josiah we would tackle the Main Buildin’; so we follered a lot of folks from our tarvern—another spiked gate turned round with us and let us in, and—and what didn’t that gate let us into? Oh, good land! Oh, dear suz! You may think them words are strong, and express a good deal, but they don’t begin to explain to you how I felt. Why, a hull Dictionary of jest such words couldn’t begin to tell my feelins as I stood there a lookin’ round on each side of me, down that broad, majestic, glitterin’ street full of folks and fountains and glitterin’ stands, and statutes, and ornaments, with gorgeous shops on each side containin’ the most beautiful beauty, the sublimest sublimity, and the very grandest grandeur the hull world affords. I advanced a little ways, and then, not sensin’ it at all, I stopped stun still and looked round me, Josiah kinder drawin’ me along—entirely unbeknown to me. Finally he spoke in a sort of a low, awe-stricken whisper:
“Do come along, Samantha!”
But I still stood stun still, lookin’ round me through the eyes of my specks (Josiah had got the other eye put in), and didn’t sense what he was a sayin’ to me till he spoke again—hunchin’ me hard at the same time: “What is the matter Samantha?”
Says I, in low strange tones, “I am completely dumbfoundered Josiah Allen!”
“So be I,” says he, “but it won’t do to be a blockin’ up the path, and actin’ baulky; it will make talk. Less go along and do as the rest do.” So we walked along. And as my dumbfounder began to leave me, and I recovered the use of my tongue, my first words was:
“Josiah Allen, if I was as young as I once was, and knew I’d live to die of old age, I’d come right here to this village and live, and go through this buildin’ and see the biggest heft of its contents. But at my age, there haint no use of tryin’ to see a half or even a quarter of ’em.”
Says Josiah, “You know Tirzah Ann wanted you to remember what you see here and describe it to her.”
“Good land!” says I, “I might jest as well undertake to divide off the sands of the sea, set ’em off into spans and call ’em by name, and describe the best pints of each on ’em;” says I almost wildly: “if I should undertake the job I should feel so curious that I shouldn’t never git over it, like as not;” says I, “Josiah Allen, when anybody tackles a subject they want a place to take holt, or leggo; it makes ’em feel awful not to have neither.”
Why, if you’d lift up your head a minute to kind o’ rest your eyes, you would see enough to think on for a hull natural life. Havin’ in all the emergencies of life found it necessary to stand firm, and walk even, and straight forred, I laid out to take the different countries on the north side, and go through ’em, and then on the south side, go through ’em coolly and in order, and with calmness of spirit. But long before I had gone through with the United States, my mind was in a state it had never been in before through my hull life. I thought I had felt promiscous in days that was past and gone, but I give up that I never knew the meanin’ of the word before. Why, if there had been a pain of glass put into my mind, and anybody had looked into my feelins through it, they would say if they wasn’t liars that they see a sight long to be remembered; though if they had went to dividin’ off my feelins and settin’ ’em in a row and tellin’ ’em to set still, they would truly have had a tegus time. Why I haint got ’em curbed in, so’s to keep any order now, when I go to thinkin’ about that Main Buildin’.
Instead of travelin’ right through it with dignity, they are jest as likely as anyway to begin right in the centre of that grand buildin’; see that great round platform with broad steps a leadin’ up to it on every side, and that railin’ round it, a fencin’ in the most entrancin’ and heavenly music that ever a earthly quire discoursed upon—music that would rest you when you was tired, and inspire and elevate you into a realm of Pure Delight when you wasn’t. And seein’ way up and up to the ruff, little railins all ornamented off, tear after tear of ’em, and folks in ’em a lookin’ down onto the endless crowd below; and lions and eagles, and stars and stripes, and the honored forms and names of George Washington and B. Franklin up there, to make us feel safe and good. And then all of a sudden entirely unbeknown to me, my mind will work sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Sometimes it will give a jump clear to the west end, and see ornaments, and glass cases, and shinin’ counters with wimmen standin’ behind ’em, and tall jars big enough to preserve my Josiah hull in, if it was the fashion to preserve pardners.
And it wont think things out with any order, or hardly decency; sometimes the next thing after a pulpit I’ll think of a dragon; and then mebby I’ll think of a thermomiter with the quick silver a tryin’ to git out at the top to walk out to cool itself, and the next thing a Laplander covered with fur, and a sled; it beats all. There is no use tellin’ what I _did_ see, but I could tell what I _didn’t_ see in half a minute. I can’t think now of but one thing that I didn’t see and that is butternuts, though truly, I might have seen bushels, and not sensed ’em.
Why, along at first when I was a beginnin’ my tower through the United States, I would be fearfully surprised at the awfully grand and beautiful things; but before noon I got so that I wasn’t surprised at nothin’, and Josiah couldn’t make me, though he hunched me several times, a tryin’ to surprise me, and couldn’t. Why, I’d think I had come to an end of the grandeur and glory; it _must_ be there couldn’t be any more, and I’d git my specks all ready to rest off for a minute—when I’d kinder grope round a little, and out I’d come again into another room full to overflowin’ of splendor and beauty. Why, once I come out into a room that had six high pillows in the form of palm trees with long scalloped leaves towerin’ clear up to the ruff, which was ornamented off with vines and flowers, and the counters was all covered with raised work, representin’ the gatherin’ of flowers and the extraction of their perfumes, and two noble silver-plated gold-tipped fountains, sprayin’ out sweetness; why, no posy bed I ever smelled of could compare with that room.
And then there was a beautiful pavilion all trimmed off with flowers; and in the centre, one of the likeliest lookin’ fountains I ever _did_ see, with four different perfumes a jettin’ out, and round each spray a design showin’ what kind it was. And each one was more perfectly fragrant and beautiful than the other (as it were). I told Josiah I wished Shakespeare Bobbet could jest step in here; I guessed he never would use peppermint essence again on his handkerchief. When he used to come to see Tirzah Ann, he always would scent up high with peppermint or cinnamon; he smelt like a apothecary.
But I kep’ a lookin’ round, and oh, such sights of pianos and organs as I did see; it beat all. Why, there was one parlor organ with twenty-eight stops to it. Says I, “Josiah Allen what do you think of that?” Josiah had seen so much he was a gittin’ cross, and he said he had heerd folks play when he would have been thankful to have had one stop to it, if they had used it. And such iron and steel works; why we see a rod over a mile long. And there was one lock that they said had four billion changes to it. Josiah told me he had jest as good a mind as he ever had to eat, to stop and count ’em, for he didn’t believe there was three billions in it if there was two. And there was safes, large enough to lock up my Josiah in—who is indeed by far the most valuable ornament I possess—and teeth, and artificial eyes. There was one big black eye, that Josiah said he would buy if he was able.
Says I, “What under the sun would you do with it Josiah Allen?”
“Oh,” says he, “it might come handy sometime, I am liable to accidents.”
“Why,” says I, “your eyes are as blue as indigo.”
“Well,” says he, “I always liked black eyes, and that is such a awful smart lookin’ eye, it would give anybody such a knowin’ look.”
I told him I guessed he would look knowin’; I guessed he would know it when he went round with one black eye, and one blue one. I didn’t encourage the idee. He looked wishful at it to the last, and he has said sense, that that was the smartest lookin’ eye he ever see in his life.
And such sights and sights of glass ware, and crystal fountains. I told Josiah that I had sung about ’em all my life, but never did I expect to see one. But I did, here it was; handsomer than song could sing. About three feet from the floor was a basin twelve feet wide, and round this, seventy-two cut glass vases for flowers, and four pillows havin’ twelve lights and four more for flowers. In the centre column half way up, was the most beautiful crystal ornaments and doins you ever see, with burnin’ jets inside; and over all was a dome held up by three columns, topped off with spread eagles. The age of this dome was all trimmed off with red, white, and blue, and under it was the Goddess of Liberty standin’ on the globe. There is between three and four thousand pieces of glass in this fountain—so they told me—and they said it was the nicest one in the world; and I told ’em I didn’t dispute it, for I had travelled round a good deal, and I never see the beat on’t. And here it was that I got agitated and frightened; skairt most to death, and I wont deny it. I was a walkin’ along, cool as a cluster cucumber at sunrise, and as calm, when I looked up and thinks’es I, there comes a woman that looks jest like the Smiths; thinks’es I, she looks _jest_ like me, only not quite so good lookin’. I stopped completely dumbfoundered, and she stopped also in dumbfounder. I looked her in the face with a almost wild mean, and _her_ mean looked almost wild.
I give right up that she _was_ a Smith, and then realizin’ what sort of a tower it was that I was on, I knew it was my place to make the first move towards gittin’ acquainted with her; so I made her a low curchy, and she made me a low curchy. And then I walked right up and held out my hand to her, and she walked right up to me a holdin’ out her hand. Says I, “Who you be mom, I don’t know, but I believe my soul you are one of the Smiths, for you look as near like me as two peas, only you are a little fleshier than I be, and not quite so light complected.” But what the next move would have been I don’t know if all of a sudden right over her shoulder I hadn’t seen the face of my Josiah, and I knew he was the other side of me. Cold shivers run over my back, when I felt a hand a seizin’ and a holdin’ of me back, and the voice of Josiah a sayin’:
“What under the heavens Samantha, are you a tryin’ to walk through that lookin’-glass for?”
I see then where I was, and says I in faint axents: “Josiah Allen, I should have been through it in a minute more;” and I should. I told him I was most glad it took place, for it truly seemed as if he renewed his age, it pleased him so. But he stopped it pretty sudden, for he had a little incident happen to him, that made him pretty shy about pokin’ fun at me. The way on’t was, he had been sick all one night, and the next day he got so tired out that he said he guessed he would git into one of those rollin’ chairs a few moments to rest him. He whispered to me that he shouldn’t ride out but seven cents and a half, which would be only half a quarter of an hour. I whispered back to him that it would look small in him, and if I was in _his_ place, I would ride a quarter of an hour, or not try to ride at all. But he whispered back to me, firm as brass, that seven cents worth and a half was all he should ride and that was more than he could afford. And knowin’ well he was close, but honest, I didn’t argue no more. He didn’t tell the man, for fear he wouldn’t want the bother for so little while.
That was the last I see of Josiah Allen for five hours and a half. He promised to meet me at a certain time and place, and I was skairt nearly to death. And I don’t know as I should ever have seen him again, if I hadn’t happened to meet him face to face. There he was a layin’ back fast asleep, and that man had been a rollin’ him round for five hours and a half by the clock, through the different worlds, and he not sensin’ a thing—sleepin’ jest as sweet in front of them horrible antediluvian monsters, and the crockydiles, as before calico and bobinet lace—treatin’ ’em all alike, snorin’ at the hull of ’em. I s’pose he had dropped to sleep the minute I left him, not sleepin’ any the night before. I catched right holt of his arm, and says to the man: “Stop instantly! it is my pardner that you are a rollin’ on; it is a sleepin’ Josiah.”
[Sidenote: JOSIAH’S RIDE IN A CHAIR]
I declare, the man looked almost as foolish as Josiah, only Josiah’s mean had agony on it; and as he paid out the 3 dollars and 30 cents, his sithes were more like groans than common sithes. I haint heerd a word sense from Josiah Allen about my walkin’ through a lookin’ glass in search of a Smith.
We then went into Mexico and found it was a noble lookin’ Nation, considerable on the castle plan; trimmed off handsome at the top with several open places filled with statutes, and large minerals, and some of the handsomest plants I ever see. It seemed to have everything it needed to git along with.
But what was as interestin’ to me as anything, was a great stone, weighin’ about four thousand pounds, that fell right down out of some other world, landin’ on ours, down in Mexico. Oh! what emotions I had in lookin’ at it and thinkin’ if I only knew what that stun knew, I should be a sight to behold. But I knew the stun wouldn’t speak up and tell me anything about the world he had come from, or how he happened to start off alone, or whether he liked our world better than he did hisen, or anything, if I stood there till the next Sentinal.
And then we went in under a lofty arch, with curtains, and tassels, and banners, and lions, and crosses, and so 4th into Netherlands. And right there in the vestibule was pictures and drawin’s and models; showin’ plain what awful hard work they do have to keep their land from drowndin’; dretful interestin’ it must be to inebriate drunkards there, seein’ what strong barriers they have raised up between them and the water.
And we see a little brick house, with part of the thatched roof left open so you could see right down into the house; and a eatin’ house with little folks settin’ to the table, and some East India curiosities as curious as any curiosities I ever laid eyes on. And then we travelled over into Brazil. I always knew Brazil was a noble Nation, but never, never did I imagine it was trimmed and ornamented off to such an extent. We went right in boldly under the ornaments and trimmins, and truly we did see enough to pay us for our trouble; there was flowers made out of the most brilliant feathers you ever see. Why I had s’posed old Hail the Day’s feathers was shinin’; I’ve seen ’em look perfectly gorgeous to me when he was standin’ round on one foot at the back door a crowin’ and the sun was a shinin’ down on him; but good land! what was his feathers compared to these. And then we see the big topaz, brilliant and clear as well-water almost, sunthin’ the size of a goose egg—s’posen she, the goose, laid almost square eggs. And oh! if I only had a goose that laid such eggs, how well off I could git in one season if she done well; it is worth 150,000 dollars. And we see a sun dial fixed so the sun fired off a cannon every day at noon. Josiah said he never see the beat on’t, to think the sun should be willin’ to do such work for anybody—hire out to do day’s works (as it were.) But I says, “if _anybody_ could git him at it, it is Mr. Pedro;” says I, “it don’t surprise me, that without makin’ any fuss about it, or boastin’ a mite, he has got the sun so it will fire off cannons for him or anything; it is jest like him.” Says I, “Some monarchs are obleeged to wear a crown instead of a hat, and hold out a septer in their hand to make anybody _mistrust_ they are kings. But it haint so with _him_; _his_ royalty haint put on the outside, it is inherient in _him_, and works out from his heart and soul.”
[Sidenote: A TRIP THROUGH THE WORLD]