Samantha at the World's Fair by Marietta Holley (ebook and pdf reader txt) 📕

Why, you could fairly hear the swash, swash of the water, as the old brindle cow plashed through its cool waves.

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It beat all I ever see, and Josiah felt jest as I did. The beautiful face of the girl looked dretful familiar to me, though I couldn't tell for my life who it wuz that she looked so much like.

And there on every side of us wuz jest as pretty pictures as that, and some white marble figures, that stood up almost as big as life on their marble pedestals, and aginst the dark red draperies.

Why, take it all in all, it was the prettiest room I had ever looked at in my life, and so I told Mr. Freeman.

And, if you'll believe it, that man up and said right there that we wuz perfectly free to use that room jest as much as we wanted to.

He said he had another room as large as this that he staid in most of his time when he was at home—his writin'-desk wuz in that room. But he was not here much of the time, only to sleep and to his meals.

And as he said this, what should that almost angel man do but to put a key in my hand, so Josiah and I could come in any time, whether he wuz here or not.

Why, I wuz fairly dumbfoundered, and so wuz Josiah. But we thanked him warm, very warm, warmer than the weather, and that stood more'n ninety in the shade.[Pg 204]

And I told him—for I see that he really meant what he said—I told him that the chance of comin' in there and settin' down in that cool, big room, once in a while, as a change from our dry oven, would be a boon. And I didn't know but it would be the means of savin' our two lives, for meltin' did seem to be our doom and our state ahead on us, time and time agin.

And he spoke right up in his pleasant, sincere way, and said, "The more we used it the more it would please him."

And then he opened the doors of a big bookcase—all carved off the doors wuz, and the top, and the beautiful head of a white marble female a-standin' up above it. And he sez—

"Here are a good many books that are fairly lonesome waiting to be read, and you are more than welcome to read them."

Wall, I thanked him agin, and I told him that he wuz too good to us. And I couldn't settle it in my own mind what made him act so. Of course, not knowin' at that time that I favored his mother in my looks—his mother he had worshipped so that he kep her room jest as she left it, and wouldn't have a thing changed.

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But I didn't know that, as I say, and I said to my Josiah, after we went back into our room—

Sez I, "It must be that we do have a good look to us, Josiah Allen, or else that perfect stranger wouldn't treat us as he has."

"Perfect stranger!" sez Josiah. "Why, we have neighbored with him 'most a week. But," sez he, "you are right about our looks—we are dum good-lookin', both on us. I am pretty lookin'," says he, firmly, "though you hain't willin' to own up to it."

Sez he, "I dare presoom to say, he thought I would be a sort of a ornament to his rooms—kinder set 'em off. And you look respectable," sez he, sort o' lookin' down on me—

"Only you are too fat!" Sez he, "You'd be quite good-lookin' if it wuzn't for that."

And then we had some words.

And I sez, "It hain't none of our merits that angel looks at; it is his own goodness."

"Wall, there hain't no use in your callin' him an angel. You never called me so."

"No, indeed!" sez I; "I never had no occasion, not at all."

And then we had some more words—not many, but jest a few. We worship each other, and it is [Pg 206]known to be so, all over Jonesville, and Loontown, and Zoar. And I spozed by that time that Chicago wuz a-beginnin' to wake up to the truth of how much store we sot by each other. But the fairest spring day is liable to have its little spirts of rain, and they only make the air sweeter and more refreshin'.

Wall, from that time, every now and then—not enough to abuse his horsepitality, but enough to let him know that we appreciated his goodness—when our dry oven become heated up beyend what we could seem to bear, we went into that cool, delightful room agin, and agin I feasted my eyes on the lovely pictures on the wall; most of all on that beautiful sunset scene down by the laughin' stream.

And as hot and beat out as I might be, I would always find that pretty girl a-standin', cool and fresh, and dretful pretty, by the old bar post, with her orburn hair pushed back from her flushed cheeks, and a look in her deep brown eyes, and on her exquisite lips, that always put me dretfully in mind of somebody, and who it wuz I could not for my life tell.

Josiah used to take a book out of the bookcase, and read. Not one glance did I ever give, or did I ever let Josiah Allen give to them other rooms that opened out of this, nor into anything or anywhere, only jest that bookcase. We didn't abuse our priveleges; no, in[Pg 207]deed!

And Josiah would lean back dretful well-feelin', and thinkin' in his heart that it wuz his good looks that wuz wanted to embellish the room, and I kep on a wonderin' inside of myself what made Mr. Freeman so oncommon good to us, till one day he told us sunthin' that made it plainer to us, and Josiah Allen's pride had a fall (which, if his pride hadn't been composed of materials more indestructible than iron or gutty perchy, it would have been broke to pieces long before, so many times and so fur had it fell).

But Mr. Freeman one day showed us a picture of his mother in a little velvet case. And, sez he to me—

"You look like her; I saw it the first time I met you."

And I do declare the picture did look like me, only mebby—mebby I say, she wuzn't quite so good-lookin'.

Yes, I did look like his mother. And then I see the secret of his interest in, and his kindness to me and mine.

And Mr. Freeman wuz raised up in my mind as many as 2 notches, and I don't know but 3 or 4. To think [Pg 208]that he loved his mother's memory so well as to be so kind for her sake, for the sake of a fleetin' likeness, to be so good to another female.

But Josiah Allen looked meachin'. I gin him a dretful meanin' look. I didn't say nothin', only jest that look, but it spoke volumes and volumes, and my pardner silently devoured the volumes, and, as I say, looked meachin' for pretty near a quarter of a hour.

And that is a long time for a man to look smut, and conscience-struck. It hain't in 'em to be mortified for any length of time, as is well known by female pardners.

But we kep on a-goin'. And every single time I went into that beautiful room, whether it wuz broad daylight or lit up by gas, every single time the face of that tall slender girl, a-standin' there so calm by the crystal brook, would look so natural to me, and so sort o' familiar, that I almost ketched myself sayin'—

"Good-evenin', my dear," to it, which would have been perfectly ridiculous in me, and the very next thing to worshippin' a graven image.

And what made it more mysterious to me, and more like a circus (a solemn, high-toned circus), wuz, to ketch ever and anon, and I guess often[Pg 209]er than that, Mr. Freeman's eyes bent on that pretty young face with a look as if he too recognized her, and wanted to talk to her. And some, too, he looked as if she wuz dead and buried, and he wuz a-mournin' deep for her, very deep.

As curious a look as I ever see; and if I hain't seen curious looks in my time, then I will say nobody has. Yes, indeed! I have seen curious looks in my journey through life, curious as a dog, and curiouser.

But there she stood, no matter what looks wuz cast on her from friend or foe—and I guess it would sound better to say from friend or lover, for nobody could be a foe to that radiant-faced, beautiful creeter.

There she stood, in sun or shade, knee-deep in them fresh green grasses, a-lookin' off onto them sunset clouds always rosy and golden, by the side of that streamlet that always had the sparkle on its tiny waves.

I might be tired and weak as a cat, and Mr. Freeman might have the headache, and Josiah Allen be cross, and all fagged out—

But her face wuz always serene, and lit up with the glow of joy and health, and her sweet, deep eyes always held the secret that she couldn't be made to tell.

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Mr. Bolster was a stout, middle-aged man, with bald head, side whiskers, and a double chin. And his big blue eyes kinder stood out from his face some. He was a real estate agent, so Miss Plank said. But his principal business seemed to be a-praisin' up Chicago, and a-puffin' up the World's Fair.

Good land! Columbus didn't need none of his patronizin' and puffin' up, and Chicago didn't, not by his tell.

Josiah wuz dretful impressed by him. We didn't lead off to the Fair ground the next day after our arrival. No; at my request, we took life easy—onpacked our trunks and got good and rested, and the mornin' follerin' we got up middlin' early, bein' used to keepin' good hours in Jonesville, and on goin' down to the breakfast-table we found that there wuzn't nobody there but Mr. Bolster. He always had a early breakfast, and drove his own horse into the city to his place of business.

He looked that wide awake and active as if he never had been asleep, and never meant to.

And my companion bein' willin', and Mr. Bolster bein' more than willin', they plunged to once into a conversation concernin' [Pg 211]Chicago, Miss Plank and I a-listenin' to 'em some of