Samantha at Coney Island, and a Thousand Other IslandsHolley, Marietta
General
Samantha at Coney Island, and a Thousand Other Islands
Holley, Marietta
Coney Island (New York, N.Y.) -- Fiction
And Faith, I sez proudly to myself, a sweeter face and prettier dress
won't be seen there to-night. She did look lovely. Her soft eyes
shone, her cheeks looked pinky, her hair, a sort of a golden brown
with some gray in it, crinkled back from her white forward and wuz
gathered in a loose knot on the top of her head with a high silver
comb. Her dress wuz thin and white and gauzy, and though it wuz
considerable plain it wuz made beautiful by the big bunch of pale
pink roses at her belt and bosom, jest matchin' her cheeks in color.
I wuz proud of her. And I felt quite well about my other companion,
for as I glanced at the small kerseymear figger and pert bald head, I
sez to myself, "He makes a much better escort than none at all."
CHAPTER EIGHT
IN WHICH MR. POMPER DECLARES HIS INTENSHUNS AN' GIVES HIS VIEWS ON
MATRIMONY
CHAPTER EIGHT
IN WHICH MR. POMPER DECLARES HIS INTENSHUNS AN' GIVES HIS VIEWS ON
MATRIMONY
As our party sort o' swep' gracefully down into the hall, we thought
we would step outdoors for a minute for a breath of fresh air. It
looked gay and almost fairy-like out there. The two broad piazzas wuz
all lit up with colored lights and baskets of posies hung down between
'em full of bloom, and the broad piazzas and wide flight of steps
leadin' up to 'em wuz full of folks in bright array, walkin' and
talkin' and laughin' makin' the seen more fair and picture-like. And
in front wuz the long grassy lawn with its gay flower beds, and the
long walk down to the wharf all sparklin' with lights, and beyend, in
front of it all, lay the deep river, with its sighin' voice borne in
on the stillness, jest as in the hearts of every one of that throng,
way back beyend the gayety and sparklin' mirth lay the deep sea of
their own inner life, with its melancholy hantin' memories, its
sighin' complainin' voices, its deeps that nobody else could fathom.
And while we stood there, I wrapped in reverie and a gray zephyr
shawl, a broad beam of light wuz cast from somewhere fur off, shinin'
full and square first one side then the other side of the river.
Nearer and nearer it seemed to be comin' towards us, and wherever that
light fell a picture wuz brung quick as a flash of lightnin' out of
the darkness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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