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

The first thing Miss Meechim wanted to see wuz the church of St. Mark, so we all set off one day to see it. San Marco, as they call it, is one of the most interestin’ churches to visitors on the Continent. It wuz begun way back in the tenth century, and it has been in process of building ever since, and I don’t know how long they lay out to keep at it. They have spent thirty millions on it, so I hearn, and the news come pretty straight to me, and I d’no but they’ll spend as much agin before they git through. But when you see all its magnificent sculpture, columns, statutes, mosaic work, ornaments of every kind, its grand arches, its five domes and spires and all the exquisite work on it I d’no as I’d took the job for any less, and so I told Josiah.

But he kep’ up his old idee he had voiced in many a similar spot, that it wuz done by day’s works and the workmen didn’t hurry, and that it would have been cheaper to had it done by the job. But how could they, dribblin’ along as they did ten hunderd years?

The four horses over the main entrance are very noted. They are said to have been carved way, way back by Augustus to celebrate a triumph over Antony and to have passed through the hands of Nero, Constantine and Napoleon. Napoleon, a greedy creeter always, took ’em to Paris, but had to bring ’em back.

For horses that are so old and have been driv round and showed off by so many conquerors, they look pretty sound and hearty. But Josiah didn’t like their looks nigh so well as he duz the mair’s, and sez he, “That off one looks balky.”

But I sez, “Distance lends enchantment; the mair can’t begin with ’em.”

The altar piece is said to have cost three million. It is of gold and silver, and full of precious stuns. It was made in Constantinople a thousand years ago, and has got inscriptions on it that I presoom read well if anybody could read ’em. But I couldn’t nor Josiah. But Robert Strong read some on ’em to Dorothy, for I heard him. They are writ in Latin and Greek.

When we got back to the tarven that night we found a hull pile of letters from Jonesville, and amongst the rest I got a letter from Elder Minkley, good old man of God, and Arvilly got one too; he sets store by Arvilly now, he and his wife duz, and they pity her dretfully for what she has went through, and make allowances for her hashness, but never shall I forgit the way she talked to him right in my own settin’ room when she first come home from Cuba after her husband had been murdered by the licensed Canteen.

She come to our house one day, and Elder Minkley, good old soul, come in just after she did for a all-day’s visit, poor creeter! I guess he wuz sorry enough he come, some 343 of the time; I guess he wished he wuz back in his study perusin’ the book of martyrs or anything else deprestin’, and would have thought ’em fur livelier than what he got into.

The way on’t wuz, Arvilly had met Miss Deacon Sypher at the gate and she bein’ dretful onfaculized with no more tact than a settin’ hen, had tackled Arvilly for a contribution to buy a flag to send to our boys in Cuba, and talked enthusiastic about the war’s holy mission. And I spoze Sister Sypher wuz skairt almost into fits to hear Arvilly go on, ’tennyrate she left her sudden and to once, and started home ’cross lots almost on the run, and Arvilly come into the house talkin’ and mutterin’.

“Drusilly Sypher knows a sight about it; our army gone to redress wrongs and protect innocence! they better look to home and redress wrongs here; half the citizens of this country in legal bondage, and the hull country cowering under a crime and danger protected and legalized; if I didn’t want to make myself a mark for demon laughter I’d quit such talk till I repented my sins in sackcloth and ashes.”

“Well, well, Arvilly, set down, set down,” sez I, for she wuz rampagin’ round the room back and forth, “set down, and here,” sez I, handin’ her a bottle, “smell of the camfire, Arvilly, you look bad,” and she did look frightful bad, pale and fiery, and burnin’ mad at sunthin’ or somebody.

But she waived it off with scorn: “Camfire can’t heal the smart, or sweeten the air of the country; no, it needs fire from on high to burn it out. And it will come,” sez she, “it will come.”

Why, she acted real wild and by the side of herself, and I pitied her like a dog, and wuz at my wit’s end what to say to her, and I wuz glad enough to see Elder Minkley, good old saint, comin’ up the steps and I went to open the door with alacrity and my left hand, my right hand wuz in the dough, I wuz makin’ fried cakes, and I shook hands with him the same, and I sez:

“How glad I am to see you this morning, Brother Minkley,” little thinkin’ what wuz to come.

He took off his hat and overcoat and hung ’em up in the hall and looked in the glass in the hall rack with his mild, benevolent eyes, and brushed his thin, gray hair up on the bald spot over his benign forward, and follered me into the settin’ room, and I sez, “Here is she that wuz sister Arvilly Lanfear.”

And the good old soul advanced with a warm, meller smile on his face, and sez:

“How do you do, Sister Arvilly.”

But Arvilly’s eyes snapped worse than ever; she never noticed his outstretched hand, and she sez, “Don’t you sister me.”

“Why! why!” sez he, “what is the matter?” His welcomin’ hand dropped weakly by his side, and bein’ dretful confused and by the side of himself, he sez:

“I hain’t seen you before sence you––you–––”

“Deserted from the army,” sez she, finishin’ the sentence for him. “Yes, I deserted, I am proud to say; I never had a right before under this nation’s laws and I took that right; I deserted and they couldn’t help themselves; mebby them men see how it would feel to grin and bear for once, just as wimmen have to all the time.”

Brother Minkley had by this time begun to find and recover himself, and he sez with real good nature, “I meant to say, dear sister, that I hadn’t seen you before since you lost your husband.”

“Since you murdered him,” sez she.

“I––I murder a man?” He looked pale and trembled like a popple leaf.

“Yes, you and all other good men who stood by like Pilate, consentin’ to his death,” Arvilly went on.

Elder Minkley looked too dazed and agitated to speak, and Arvilly continued: “Do you pretend to say, Elder Minkley, that there is an evil law on the face of the earth 345 that the Church of Christ couldn’t overthrow if it chose to do so?”

He sez, “The power of the Church is great, Sister Arvilly, but no-license laws don’t stop drinking; liquor is sold somehow; folks that want it will get it.”

“What a argument!” sez Arvilly, liftin’ her eyes to heaven. “But you hain’t answered my question,” sez she, short as pie crust, mince pie crust, “Is there an evil law existing to-day that the Church of Christ could not overthrow if it tried to?”

“Well, no,” he admitted, “I believe that the Church of Christ is invincible.”

“Do you vote, Elder Minkley?”

“Well, no, as it were, Sister Arvilly, I have felt for years that politics was too vile for me to mix myself with.”

Sez Arvilly, “Do you believe in following the Lord Jesus Christ?”

Sez Elder Minkley, his good natured face lighting up, “My Divine Master; yes, I will follow him to the stake, to the death, if need be.”

“Did he turn away from sinners and the evils of the sinful world and say they wuz too vile for him to mix with?”

“I––I––Sister Arvilly––I why––I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do know what I mean!” sez the intrepid but agonized Arvilly.

“By your criminal indifference and neglect, you encourage the evil power that rules and ruins.”

Elder Minkley’s face began to look red––red as blood––and sez he, “You present the subject in a way I never thought on before, Sister Arvilly. I will think of it; I will pray over it.”

“Will you vote as you pray?” sez Arvilly anxiously.

“I will!” sez Elder Minkley, solemnly, “I will!”

Arvilly come forward and took holt of his hand. Her stern mean softened; there wuz tears in her keen eyes; she 346 looked different. Sez she, “Next Sunday I shall set under your preachin’, Elder; I hain’t felt like settin’ under it before.” And, sure enough, she did go to meetin’ the next Sunday and from that day they have been the best of friends.

But to resoom forwards: I had a letter from Philury, she said she wuz all well.

It wuz a letter that brought me some comfort and quite a lot of care; it wuz some like a peppermint lozenge, considerably sweet with a sharp tang to it, makin’ me think of the sweetness and repose of home with its accompaniment of anxiety and labor.

The children writ real good letters to their pa and me, full of affection and thoughtfulness. Thomas J. told us considerable about the Help Union and the good that Ernest White and his helpers wuz accomplishing in Loontown and Jonesville. And Tirzah Ann wanted to know if reveres had gone out and hoops comin’ in; she had hearn so and felt anxious. There had been a rumor in Jonesville to that effect, but she couldn’t place full dependence on it.

Thomas J.’s and Maggie’s letters wuz full of gratefulness for Tommy’s restored health and what I’d done for him. No matter what else they said that idee wuz runnin’ along under the rest of their thoughts, some like the accompaniment of a melodean to a sam tune in meetin’. And Tommy himself had letters from his pa and ma full of love and good advice, about half and half.

One of the most interestin’ places in Venice is the Doges Palace, and I spoze Josiah never gin up his idee about it until we stood right in front of it. But when he see that marble front, full of noble columns, elaborate carvin’, arches, balustrades and base reliefs, he had to gin up such a place as that wuz never rared up to a dog or to any number on ’em, though he said when I convinced him of his mistake: “Snip wuz too good to mingle with ’em, he was likelier than any 347 Doge that ever lived there, no matter whether you spelt ’em dog or doge.”

And I sez soothin’ly: “Like as not and ’tennyrate how I would love to hear Snip bark out a welcome to us once more.”

“Yes,” sez Josiah, “it will be the happiest hour of my life when I behold Snip and the cat and the children and grandchildren and the rest of the Jonesvillians once more.”

Here in the marble pavement are two great bronze cisterns elegantly sculptured, and you can look up the Grand Staircase with two statutes at the top on either side, Neptune and Mars; and that wuz the place where the old Doges wuz crowned.

On the staircase on each side are beautiful statutes and columns, elaborate carving and richly colored marbles. The Hall of the Great Council is one hundred and seventy-five feet long and most a hundred in width, broad enough and high enough to entertain broader and nobler views than wuz promulgated there. But it contains costly and beautiful pictures; one by Tintoretto is eighty-four feet wide and most forty feet high, the largest picture on canvas in the world so I’ve hearn, and others by Paul Veronese and the other great masters.

All round the wall, like a border in a Jonesville parlor, are the portraits of the Doges of Venice in their red robes and round-topped caps. But where Marino Faliero should have hung wuz a black curtain. Well, he wuz a mean creeter; it is a good thing he can be shut out with a curtain. Josiah said he thought it would be a crackin’ good plan to have a black curtain hung before the pictures of some of our public men, but Arvilly said, in a real dry tone, that “If we begun that it would bring up the price of black cloth enormously.”

She mourns yet quite a good deal in her best dresses, and looked ahead, and didn’t want