Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife by Marietta Holley (ereader with dictionary .TXT) 📕

said kinder low, “He laughs at scars who never felt a wound.” His eyes wuz on Dorothy’s sweet face as he spoke.

And in her soft eyes as she looked at him I could almost see the meanin’ of Juliet’s vow, “To follow thee, my lord, throughout the world.”

We didn’t go to Friar Laurence’s cell where Mr. and Miss Romeo Montague wuz married and passed away, not knowin’ exactly where it wuz, old Elder Laurence havin’ 329 passed away some time ago, but we did go to the place they call her tomb; we rung a bell in the iron gate, paid a little fee, and was led by the hired girl who opened the gate to the place where they say she is buried. But I d’no as this is her tomb or not; I didn’t seem to feel that it wuz, ’tennyrate the tomb don’t look much like what her pa said he would raise above ’em:

“A statue of pure gold; that while Verona by that name is known, there shall no figure at such rate be set as that of true and faithful Juliet.” Josiah not havin’ come up to the mark in the way of sentiment at the house of Capulet, overdid the matter here; he took out his bandanna, and after flourishing it enough to draw everybody’s attention to it, pressed it to his eyes and sort o’ sithed.

But I doubted his grief, though he made such elaborate preparations for it, and I told him so afterwards. He acted real puggicky and sez:

“Can’t I ever please you, Samantha? At the widder Montague’s Pa’s you thought I wuzn’t sentimental enough, and I thought you would be tickled enough to have me shed tears at her tomb.”

“Did you shed tears, Josiah?” sez I.

But he waved the question off and continued, “The guide told me that folks usually wep’ some there, and I expected you all would, you are all so romantik and took up with the widder Montague and her pardner. I took the lead, but none of you follered on.”

“Well,” sez I, “if you felt like weepin’, Josiah, I wouldn’t want to break it up, but to me it looked fur more like a waterin’ trough than it did like a tomb.”

“Well, you know how it is in the older part of the Jonesville buryin’-ground, the stuns are all tipped over and broke. Mr. and Miss Capulet have been dead for some time and probable the grave stuns have gone down.”

Well, being kinder rousted up on the subject, I quoted considerable poetry about Romeo and Juliet, and Josiah bein’ 330 kinder huffy and naterally hatin’ poetry, and real hungry, too, scorfed at and made light on me. He kep’ it up till I sez:

“William Shakespeare said there wuz Two Gentlemen of Verona, and I should be glad, Josiah Allen, to think you made the third one; but a true gentleman wouldn’t make light of his pardner or slight her reminiscences.”

Sez he: “Reminescin’ on a empty stomach is deprestin’, and don’t set well.”

Well, it had been some time sence we had eat, and Tommy wuz gittin’ hungry, too, so we returned to the tarven.

In the afternoon we went to see the old Roman amphitheatre. It wuz probably built not fur from A.D. Jest think on’t! Most two thousand years old, and in pretty good shape yet! It is marble, and could accommodate twenty thousand people. All round and under it is a arch, where I spoze the poor condemned prisoners wuz kep’ and the wild beasts that wuz to fight with ’em and kill ’em for the pleasure of the populace. Miss Meechim got dretful worked up seein’ it, and she and Arvilly had words, comparin’ old times and new, and the different wild beasts they encourage and let loose on the public. Arvilly’s views, tinged and shadowed as they always are, by what she’s went through, they both got mad as hens before they got through.

There are ruins of a large aqueduct near, which wuz flooded with water, I spoze, for acquatic sports way back, mebby back to Anna D, or before her. Some say that early Christians were put to death in this amphitheatre, but it hain’t very clearly proved.

Well, we only stayed one day at Verona, and the next day we hastened on to Venice.

Josiah told me that he wanted to go to Venice. Sez he: “It is a place from what I hear on’t that has a crackin’ good water power and that is always the makin’ of a town, and then,” sez he, “I’ve always wanted to see the Bridge of Size and the Doggy’s Palace.” Sez he: “When a city is good 331 enough to rare up such a palace to dogs it shows there is sunthin’ good ’bout it, and I dare presoom to say there hain’t a dog amongst ’em any better than Snip or one that can bring up the cows any better.”

Josiah thinks we’ve got the cutest dog and cat in the world. He has spent hours trainin’ ’em, and they’ll both start for the cow paster jest the right time and bring up the cows; of course, the cat can’t do much only tag along after the dog; she don’t bark any, it not bein’ her nater to, but it looks dretful cunnin’. Sez Josiah, “I wouldn’t be ashamed to show Snip off by the side of any of the dogs in the Doggy’s Palace.”

Sez I, coldly, “How do you spell dogs, Josiah Allen?”

“Why, dog-es, doggys.”

Sez I, “The palace was rared up by a man––a Doge––the Doges wuz great men, rulers in Venice.”

“I don’t believe a word on’t,” sez he. “It is rared up for dogs, and I’m thinkin’ quite a little of rarin’ up a small house with a steeple on’t for Snip. He deserves it.”

Well, there wuzn’t no use in argyin’; I knew he would have to give up when he got there, and so he did. And it wuz jest so with the Bridge of Sighs, that has, as Mr. Byron said, “A palace and a prison on each side.”

Josiah insisted on’t that it wuz called the Bridge of Size, because it wuz the most sizeable bridge in the world. But it is no such thing; it don’t begin, as I told him, with the Brooklyn Bridge; why, it hain’t no longer than the bridge between Loontown and Zoar, or the one over our creek, but I presoom them who passed over this bridge to execution gin deep, loud sithes––it wuz nateral they should––so the bridge wuz named after them sithes.

Josiah said if that wuz fashionable he should name the bridge down back of the barn the Bridge of Groans, it wuz such a tug for the horses to draw a load over it. Sez he, “I almost always give a groan and so does Ury––Bridge of 332 Groans.” Sez he, “that will sound uneek and genteel in Jonesville.”

But mebby he won’t do it; he often makes plans he don’t carry out and he gits things wrong––he did the very first minute we got there.

We arrove in Venice about the middle of the afternoon, and as Robert had writ ahead for rooms, a man wuz waitin’ with a sizeable gondola to take us to our tarven.

When Josiah see it drawin’ nigh he sez to me, soty vosy, “Never, never, will I ride in a hearse; I wouldn’t in Jonesville and I won’t in Italy; not till my time comes, I won’t.”

But I whispered back agin to keep still, it wuzn’t a hearse. But, to tell the truth, it did look some like one, painted black as a coal. But, seein’ the rest of us embark, he, too, sot sail in it. He didn’t have to go a great ways before it stopped at our tarven, which wuz once a palace, and I kinder hummed to myself while I wuz washin’ me and puttin’ on a clean collar and cuffs:

“’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,” puttin’ the main emphasis on palaces. But Josiah catched up the refrain and sung it quite loud, or what he calls singin’: