I, beat out with work and watchin’, thought I would soak my feet before I went to bed, and so I put some water into the mop pail, and sot by the stove with my feet in it. The thought had come to me after I got my night-cap on. Josiah sot behind the stove, rubbin’ some linament onto his back; he had jest spoke to me, and says he, “I believe this linament makes, my back feel easier, Samantha, I hope I shall get a little rest to-night.” Says I, “I hope so too, Josiah.” And jest as I said the words, without any warning the door opened, and in come what seemed to me at the time to be a hundred and 50 men, wimmen, and children, headed by Betsey Bobbet. Josiah, so wild with horror and amazement that he forgot for the time bein’ his lameness, leaped from his chair, and tore so wildly at his shirt that he tore two pieces right out of the red flannel, and they shone on each shoulder of his white shirt like red stars; he then backed up against the wall between the back door and the wood box. I rose up and stood in the mop pail, too wild with amaze to get out of it, for the same reason heedin’ not my night-cap. “We have come to suprize you,” says Betsey Bobbet, sweetly. I looked at ’em in speechless horror, and my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth; no word did I speak, but I glared at ’em with looks which I suppose filled ’em with awe and dread, for Betsey Bobbet spoke again in plaintive accents, “Will you not let us suprize you?” Then I found voice, and “No! no!” says I wildly. “I won’t be suprized! you sha’n’t suprize us to-night! We won’t be suprized! Speak, Josiah,” says I, appealin’ to him in my extremity. “Speak! tell her! will we be suprized to-night?” “No! no!” says he in firm, decided, warlike tones, as he stood backed up against the wall, holdin’ his clothes on--with his red flannel epaulettes on his shoulders like a officer, “no, we won’t be suprized!” “You see, deah friends,” says she to the crowd, “she will not let us suprize her, we will go.” But she turned at the door, and says she in reproachful accents, “May be it is right and propah to serve a old friend and neighbah in this way--I have known you a long time, Josiah Allen’s wife.” “I have known you plenty long enough,” says I, steppin’ out of the pail, and shettin’ the door pretty hard after ’em. Josiah came from behind the stove pushin’ a chair in front of him, and says he, “Darn suprize parties, and darn--” “Don’t swear, Josiah, I should think you was bad enough off without swearin’--” “I _will_ darn Betsey Bobbet, Samantha. Oh, my back!” he groaned, settin’ down slowly, “I can’t set down nor stand up.” “You jumped up lively enough, when they come in,” says I. [Illustration: THE SURPRISE PARTY.] “Throw that in my face, will you? What could I du? And there is a pin stickin’ into my shoulder, do get it out, Samantha, it has been there all the time, only I haint sensed it till now.”