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
Jest then, cousin Beebe called out my name from t'other side the room. I
wish you could a seen how they all stared; it warn't more than ten
minits arter that, afore eenamost every one in there was at cousin Beebe
tu be introduced tu me--the fellers with the brustles and all. The
purtyest gals in the room kept a flocking round me as if they'd never
seen a man that wrote for the newspapers afore. Talk about soft
sodder--there's nobody on arth can put it into a chap so smooth as a
harnsome gal. Somehow they melt it with their smiles, till it sinks
through his heart afore he knows it. I was talking with a rale peeler of
a gal, with two of the brightest black eyes that I ever see, when
somebody struck up a tune on the pianner-forty, and two or three couple
got onto the floor as if they wanted tu dance.
"Do you dance quadrills, Mr. Slick?" sez the black eyed gal, as if she
wanted me tu ask her to dance.
"Wal, I don't know," sez I, "I never tried them kind of things; but I
ruther guess I can, if you'll show me how."
With that, I took the tip eend of her white glove between the fingers of
my yaller one, and went with her into the middle of the room. I didn't
know what they were a going tu dance, but I warn't much afeard,
anyhow--for there warn't a chap in all Weathersfield could beat me at a
double shuffle, or could cut so neat a pigeon-wing without music, as I
could.
Wal, the music begun, and one of the fellers that had the hair on his
lip, begun tu slide about with his eyes half shet and his hands a
hanging down, and looking as doleful as if he'd jest come away from a
funeral. Did you ever see a duck swim a mill-dam, or a hen turning up
its eyes when it's a drinking? If you have you can git some idea how the
lazy coot danced. I thought I should go off the handle tu see him, but
the gals all stuck out their little feet, and poked about jest in the
same way. Think sez I, when it comes my turn, I'll give you a little
specimen of ginuine dancing. I only wish I thought tu put a little loose
change in my pocket tu jingle, if it was only jest tu show how well I
keep step.
A young lady, with her hair twisted all up with little white flowers,
balanced up tu me, jest as you've seen a bird walk, and then it come my
turn. I took two steps for'ard and then I cut a peeler of a pigeon-wing,
and ended off with a little touch of the double shuffle, but my trousers
was so plaguy tight that I couldn't make my legs rale limber all I could
du, besides, the music warn't much more like a dancing tune than
Greenbank or Old Hundred. At last I went up tu the gal that was playing,
and sez I--
"Look a here--jest give us something lively--Yankee Doodle, or Money
Muss, or the Irish Washerwoman, or Paddy Carey. I aint a going tu twist
and pucker round in this way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account