Samantha at Saratoga [80]
must go and get some lawn." Sez Josiah, "What will you do with it?" And I sez, "Oh, I s'pose I shall wrap it round me, I'll do what the rest do." And sez Josiah, "Hadn't I ort to have some too? If it is a lawn party and everybody else has it, I shall feel like a fool without any lawn." And I looked at him in deep thought, and through him into the causes and consequences of things, and sez I, "I s'pose you do ort to have a lawn necktie, or handkerchief, or sunthin'." Sez he, "How would a vest look made out of it, a kinder sprigged one, light gay colors on a yaller ground-work?" But I sez at once, "You never will go out with me, Josiah, with a lawn vest on." And I settled it right there on the spot. Then he proposed to have some wrapped round his hat, sort a festooned. But I stood like marble aginst that idee. But I knew I had got to have some lawn, and pretty soon we sallied out together and wended our way down to where I should be likely to find a lawn store. And who should we meet a comin' out of a store but Ardelia. Her 3d cousin had sent her over to get a ingregient for cookin'. Good, willin' little creeter! She walked along with us for a spell. And while she wuz a walkin' along with us, we come onto a sight that always looked pitiful to me, the old female that wuz always a' sittin' there a singin' and playin' on a accordeun. And it seemed to me that she looked pitifuller and homblier than ever, as she sot there amongst the dense crowd that mornin' a singin' and a playin'. Her tone wuz thin, thin as gauze, hombly gause too. But I wondered to myself how she wuz a feelin' inside of her own mind, and what voices she heard a speakin' to her own soul, through them hombly strains. And, ontirely unbeknown to myself, I fell into a short revery (short but deep) right there in the street, as I looked down on her, a settin' there so old, and patient and helpless, amongst the gay movin' throng. And I wondered what did she see, a settin' there with her blind eyes, what did she hear through them hombly tones that she wuz a singin' day after day to a crowd that wuz indifferent to her, or despised her? Did she hear the song of the mornin', the spring time of life? Did the song of a lark come back to her, a lark flyin' up through the sweet mornin' sky over the doorway of a home, a lark watched by young eyes, two pairs of 'em, that made the seein' a blessedness? Did a baby's first sweet blunders of speech, and happy laughter come back to her, as she sot there a drawin' out with her wrinkled hands them miserable sounds from the groanin' instrument? Did home, love, happiness sound out to her, out of them hombly strains? I'd have gin a cent to know. And I'd have gin a cent quick to know if the tread -- tread -- tread of the crowd goin' past her day after day, hour after hour, seems to her like the trample of Time a marchin' on. Did she hear in 'em the footsteps of child, or lover, or friend, a steppin' away from her, and youth and happiness, and hope, a stiddy goin' away from her? Did she ever listen through the constant sound of them steps, listen to hear the tread of them feet that she must know wuz a comin' nigh to her -- the icy feet that will approach us, if their way leads over rocks or roses? Did she hate to hear them steps a comin' nearer to her, or did she strain her ears to hear 'em, to welcome 'em? I thought like as not she did. For thinkses I to myself, and couldn't help it, if she is a Christian she must be glad to change that old accordeun for a harp of any size or shape. For mournfuller and more melancholy sounds than her voice and that instrument made I never hearn, nor ever expect to hear, and thin. Poor, old, hombly critter, I gin her quite a lot of change one day, and she braced up and sung and drawed out faster than ever, and thinner. Though I'd have gladly hearn her stop. When I come up out of my revery, I see Ardelia lookin' at her stiddy and kind a sot. And I mistrusted trouble wuz ahead on me, and I hurried Josiah down the street. Ardelia a sayin' she had got to turn the corner, to go to another