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
With that the chap made a dive up the steps, and it warn't a second
afore the door swung open, and a nice old feller, dressed up as neat as
a new pin, but without regimentals, stood inside. Arter making a bow, he
opened a mahogany door, and made a little motion with his hand, as much
as to say--"walk in."
Jason he kinder seemed loth to go in fust; and arter all his money, I
couldn't help but think the old feller in the hall looked as well and
acted a good deal more like a rale gentleman, than he did. There's
nothing like being rich to git up a man's pluck; arter fidgeting with
his watch-seals a minit, Jase stuck up his head like a mud turtle in the
sun, and in he went. I follered arter as close as a bur tu a chestnut;
for in my hull life I never felt so scared.
The house didn't seem like Miss Miles's nor Cousin Beebe's, nor yet like
my pussey cousin's. Coming from his house into that, seemed like going
out of a blustering wind into a calm snowstorm. Every thing was so slick
and still, that it didn't seem like anything else that I ever see.
Cousin Slick went in fussing along, and a tall harnsome lady got up from
a chair, where she sot by the fire, and cum towards us. Arter Jason had
give her a little information about the weather--told her it was
dreadful cold, and so on, he stepped back, and spreading out his hands
sort of like his wife, sez he--
"Mrs. ----, this is Mr. Jonathan Slick, a young relation of mine."
I declare it made my heart beat to see how purtily she smiled--her
curchy was as soft and easy as a bird--she didn't wriggle up her
shoulders and stick out her feet as some of the rest of 'em did, but
jest seemed to droop down a little easy, and then she asked us to sit
down; and in less than no time we felt as much tu hum as if we'd known
her ever since she was a nursing baby. Instead of beginning to give me a
lot of soft sodder, as some of the other women did, she jest set in and
began to talk about old Connecticut, and sich things as she must a seen
was likely to tickle me like all natur, and her voice was so soft, and
she kept a smiling so, that I never felt so contented in my life as I
did a talking with her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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