My Wife and I; Or, Harry Henderson's HistoryStowe, Harriet Beecher
General
My Wife and I; Or, Harry Henderson's History
Stowe, Harriet Beecher
American fiction -- 19th century; Courtship -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Romance fiction
Susie was especially careful in the observation of Sunday, and as that
is a point where children are apt to be particularly weak, she would
exhort me to rigorous exactitude.
I kept it, first, by thinking that I should see _her_ at church, and by
growing very precise about my Sunday clothes, whereat my sisters winked
at each other and laughed slyly. Then at church we sat in great square
pews adjoining to each other. It was my pleasure to peep through the
slats at Susie. She was wonderful to behold then, all in white, with a
profusion of blue ribbons and her little flat hat over her curls--and a
pair of dainty blue shoes peeping out from her dress.
She informed me that little girls never must think about their clothes
in meeting, and so I supposed she was trying to be entirely absorbed
from earthly vanities, unconscious of the fixed and earnest stare with
which I followed every movement.
Human nature is but partially sanctified, however, in little saints as
well as grown up ones, and I noticed that occasionally, probably by
accident, the great blue eyes met mine, and a smile, almost amounting to
a sinful giggle, was with difficulty choked down. She was, however, a
most conscientious little puss and recovered herself in a moment, and
looked gravely upward at the minister, not one word of whose sermon
could she by any possibility understand, severely devoting herself to
her religious duties, till exhausted nature gave way. The little lids
would close over the eyes like blue pimpernel before a shower,--the head
would drop and nod, till finally the mother would dispense the little
Christian from further labors, by laying her head on her lap and drawing
her feet up comfortably upon the seat, to sleep out to the end of the
sermon.
When winter came on I beset my older brother to make me a sled. Sleds,
such as every boy in Boston or New York now rejoices in, were blessings
in our parts unknown; our sled was of rough, domestic manufacture.
My brother, laughing, asked if my sled was intended to draw Susie on,
and on my earnest response in the affirmative he amused himself with
painting it in colors, red and blue, most glorious to behold.
My soul was magnified within me when I first started with this stylish
establishment to wait on Susie.
What young fellow does not exult in a smart team when he has a girl whom
he wants to dazzle? Great was my joy and pride when I first stopped at
Susie's and told her to hurry on her things, for I had come to draw her
to school!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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