High Life in New York: A series of letters to Mr. Zephariah Slick, Justice of the Peace, and Deacon of the church over to Weathersfield in the state of ConnecticutStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
High Life in New York: A series of letters to Mr. Zephariah Slick, Justice of the Peace, and Deacon of the church over to Weathersfield in the state of Connecticut
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
New York (N.Y.) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
It's curios how men will git used to eenamost anything; now I don't
purtend to say that I hadn't a kind of a sneaking notion after Judy
White, but somehow when I seen the tears come into the old woman's eyes,
dimming her old steel-bowed spectacles, the water always would start
into my own eyes, spite of all I could do to keep it out; so it wasn't
to be expected that I should not feel disagreeable when the two got
their dander up, and went into such a tantrum with each other. But there
sot the old man a chonking an apple, and kinder larfin inside of him all
the time, jest as he'd a looked on to see two cats scratch and spit at
one another. I axed him how he could du so, and he tossed the apple core
out of the winder, and puckered up his mouth and said, "I hadn't got
used to the wimmen folks yit; the best way with them kind o' things was
to let 'em alone."
Now it wouldn't a been much of a chore to have gone over to old Mr.
White's two or three times a week, and if Judy had done the clean thing
toward the old woman, I don't know but I should a gone to see her over
there, but somehow a gal kicks over the milk pail when she lets her
ebenezer git up before a feller, jest as he's beginning to hanker arter
her. I couldn't make up my mind to tackle in with a critter that had
shown such an allfired spiteful temper, so the next Sunday night I let
her go home from singing school alone. I saw her look back kinder
anxious two or three times, and jest for the minit my heart riz up in my
throat till it eenamost choked me. But I kept a stiff upper lip, and
went on without seeming to mind her; and then she tossed up her head
and begun to sing, as if she wanted to show me that she didn't care a
cent for all I could do.
I felt awful bad for a day or two, but a feller must be a sap-head if he
can't make up his mind to give a gal the mitten when he thinks she
desarves it. Now if Judy had had the small-pox, and had been pitted all
over like a honey comb, I'd a stood by her to the last minnit; but
somehow I couldn't git over the awful basting she gave marm. I do like
to see old folks treated well, let 'em do what they will, and a gal
can't be fit to bring up a family if she doesn't know how to keep her
own temper. Besides, she hasn't much true ginuine love for a chap, when
she won't try to put up with the faults of his relations for his sake.
Wal, the long and the short of it was, I gin Judy White the sack right
off the reel, without stopping to chew the matter a bit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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