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)
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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 don't make no odds tu tell me how _they_ act," sez I, "for I don't
call on anybody that sets up to be wiser than our Savior; he turned
water into wine, and when I set up tu be better than him, I'll turn up
my nose at it, but not afore. I wish you could a heard par argufy that
question with the ministers. I rather guess----"
Here cousin Beebe sot in, and sez he, "Well, jest fill up a glass for
the lady about half full, not a drop more, then pour out a glass for
yourself----"
"What, full?" sez I.
"Sartinly," sez he.
"Wal," sez I; "that seems kinder hoggish tu give yourself more than you
du to the lady; I don't seem tu like that."
"It's the fashion," sez he.
"Oh, is it?" sez I; "wal I think as like as not they know how to help
themselves arter a feller's gone. I always notice that the gals that are
so mighty stuck up as if they couldn't swaller anything but air before
folks, stuff like all natur back of the pantry door."
John larfed a leetle as if he agreed with me, and sez he, "Never mind
that now, but when you've poured out the wine, jest step back and make a
bow, and say, 'The compliments of the season,' or any other interesting
thing that you like. A person of your genius should not be at a loss for
pleasant sayings--and after that drink off the wine, take a leetle of
anything else that is on the table, and go away agin."
"Wal now," sez I, "I can remember what to say well enough, though it
does seem to me that there would be a leetle too much soft sodder in the
speech, if it warn't made to a lady; but suppose you jest go over the
manoeuvre about the wine, so that I can git the kink on it, if you
hain't no objection."
"Very well," sez he, "remember I'm you, and you are the lady."
"Jest so," sez I.
"Wal," sez he, a taking up the cider mug, "observe me." With that he
made a purlite bow, and give another allfired pull at the drink. I see
what the critter was at; but think sez I, I ruther think you've had your
share of the cider. With that, I put out both hands a leetle easy, and
took the mug from his mouth.
"See if I hain't larnt it," sez I, as sober as a deacon; and with that I
made him a low bow, and while I was a drinking off the cider, I jest
winked one eye over the top of the mug, tu let him see that I was up tu
a thing or two. The minit I pulled up, he began tu laugh as good-natured
as a kitten; and arter I'd got my breath, I sot in, and we had a good
haw-haw right out in the office.
Arter we'd both got sobered down, John he gave me an invite to come up
and see Mary, and then he cut stick tu go home and fix for visiting. I
hadn't but jest time to run out and git a piece of Injun rubber to clean
my yaller gloves with, and begin tu fix up, when my pussey cousin come
up the street, hurra boys, carriage and all, arter me. The tall chap let
himself down from behind the carriage, and knocked at the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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