Samantha at Saratoga [55]
unsought, from afur, afur. Where did it come from that news of lands more beautiful than any that lay round Mr. Moons'es, beautiful as it wuz. Echoes of music sweeter fur than wuz a soundin' from the band down by the shore, music heard by some finer sense than heard that, heavenly sweet, heavenly sad, throbbin' through the remoteness of that country, through the nearness of it, and fillin' my eyes with tears. Not sad tears, not happy ones, but tears that come only to them that shet their eyes and behold the country, and love it. The waves softly lappin' the shore brought a message to me; my soul hearn it. Who sent it? And where, and when, and why? Not a trace of these emotions could be read on my countenance as I sot there calmly a eatin' fried potatoes. And they did go beyond anything I ever see in the line of potatoes, and I thought I could fry potatoes with any one: Yes, such wuz my feelin's when I sot out for Mr. Moons'es. But I went back a thinkin' that potatoes had never been fried by me, sech is the power of a grand achievment over a inferior one, and so easy is the sails taken down out of the swellin' barge of egotism. No, them potatoes you could carry in your pocket for weeks right by the side of the finest lace, and the lace would be improved by the purity of 'em. Fried potatoes in that condition, you could eat 'em with the lightest silk gloves one and the tips of the fingers would be improved by 'em; fried potatoes, jest think on't! Wall, we had some lemonade too, and if you'll believe it, -- I don't s'pose you will but it is the truth, -- there wuz straws in them glasses too. But you may as well believe it for I tell the truth at all times, and if I wuz a goin' to lie, I wouldn't lie about lemons. And then I've always noticed it, that if things git to happenin' to you, lots of things jest like it will happen. That made twice in one week or so, that I had found straws in my tumbler. But then I have had company three days a runnin', rainy days too sometimes. It haint nothin' to wonder at too much. Any way it is the truth. Wall, we drinked our lemonade, I a quietly takin' out the straws and droppin' 'em on the floor at my side in a quiet ladylike manner, and Josiah, a bein' wunk at by me, doin' the same thing. And anon, our carriage drove up to the end of the piazza agin and we sot sail homewards. And the dog barked at Josiah almost every step of the way back, and when we got to our boardin' place, Miss Flamm shook hands with us both, and her relatives never took a mite of notice of us, further than to jump down and open the carriage door for us as we got out. (They are genteel in their manners, and Josiah had to admit that they wuz, much as his feelin's wuz hurt by their haughtiness towards him.) And then the dog, and Miss Flamm and Miss Flamm's relatives drove off.
XI. VISIT TO THE INDIAN ENCAMPMENT. It wuz a fair sunshiny mornin' (and it duz seem to me that the fairness of a Saratoga mornin' seems fairer, and the sunshine more sunshiny than it duz anywhere else), that Josiah and Ardelia and me sot sail for the Indian Encampment, which wuz encamped on a little rise of ground to the eastward of where we wuz. Ardelia wuz to come to our boardin' place at halfpast 9 A. M., forenoon, and we wuz to set out together from there. And punctual to the very half minute I wuz down on the piazza, with my mantilly hung over my arm and my umberel in my left hand. Josiah Allen was on the right side on me. And as Ardelia hadn't come yet we sot down in a middlin' quiet part of the piazza, and waited for her. And as we sot there, I sez to Josiah, as I looked out on the fair pleasant mornin' and the fair pleasant faces environin' of us round, sez I, "Saratoga is a good-natured place, haint it, Josiah?" And he said (I mistrust his corns ached worse than common, or sunthin'), he said, he didn't see as it wuz any better-natured than Jonesville or Loontown. And I sez, "Yes it is, Josiah Allen." Sez I, folks are happier here and more generous, the rich ones seem inclined to help them that need help to a little comfort
XI. VISIT TO THE INDIAN ENCAMPMENT. It wuz a fair sunshiny mornin' (and it duz seem to me that the fairness of a Saratoga mornin' seems fairer, and the sunshine more sunshiny than it duz anywhere else), that Josiah and Ardelia and me sot sail for the Indian Encampment, which wuz encamped on a little rise of ground to the eastward of where we wuz. Ardelia wuz to come to our boardin' place at halfpast 9 A. M., forenoon, and we wuz to set out together from there. And punctual to the very half minute I wuz down on the piazza, with my mantilly hung over my arm and my umberel in my left hand. Josiah Allen was on the right side on me. And as Ardelia hadn't come yet we sot down in a middlin' quiet part of the piazza, and waited for her. And as we sot there, I sez to Josiah, as I looked out on the fair pleasant mornin' and the fair pleasant faces environin' of us round, sez I, "Saratoga is a good-natured place, haint it, Josiah?" And he said (I mistrust his corns ached worse than common, or sunthin'), he said, he didn't see as it wuz any better-natured than Jonesville or Loontown. And I sez, "Yes it is, Josiah Allen." Sez I, folks are happier here and more generous, the rich ones seem inclined to help them that need help to a little comfort