Samantha at the St. Louis ExpositionHolley, Marietta
General
Samantha at the St. Louis Exposition
Holley, Marietta
Louisiana Purchase Exposition (1904 : Saint Louis, Mo.) -- Fiction
And there wuz a display of insects, bees and everything relating to
honey and wax. Silk worms and their work and products, cochineal and all
kinds of useful insects and their work, and hurtful insects and methods
of destroying them, and so on and so on and so on. I couldn't tell all I
see if I should try a week, and what we see wuzn't a drop to a fountain.
The immense buildin' is divided off into streets and blocks jest like a
city, and you might roam through them streets a month and find sunthin'
new and interestin' every day and hour.
Well, from there we went to Horticultural Hall, or we had started for
there when Josiah made a observation about the size of a potato he had
seen in Agricultural Hall, that I had to in the cause of Truth and Duty
object to, the size he mentioned was a twelve-quart pail, and I said:
"Josiah, take off a few quarts from that pail. For the good of your soul
take off two quarts anyway."
"Not a quart!" sez he, "nor a spunful."
Well, we had words about it, Blandina as usual siding with her uncle,
and it ended with their goin' back with a string, which Josiah produced
from his pocket to measure it, I offering to stay by a certain statute
till they got back. And as I stood there lookin' at the stiddy passin'
crowd and philosophizin' on it as my nater is, I wuz accosted by a
strange lookin' man, as I took it to be (I say It for reasons named
hereafter).
"Josiah Allen's wife, I am happy to meet you; I knew you at once though
it is so long since we met." In the meantime it had gripped holt of my
hand with fervor.
I drawed back and sez, "Sir!" (I thought it favored that gender most)
"Sir, I think you are mistook."
"Oh, no, you are Josiah Allen's wife; I am Dr. Mary Walker."
"Oh!" sez I in a relieved axent, as I returned the warm grasp of her
hand, "I am glad to meet you, Mary."
She's done some good things in her life, takin' care of poor wounded
soldiers, etc., and I honored her for 'em. Though I don't approve of her
costoom, as I told her in the conversation that ensued, after we'd
talked considerable about the Fair and kindred matters. For I see as we
stood there behavin' ourselves, curious eyes wuz bent on her and
onbecomin' epithets hurled at her by them who knowed no better. She
seemed oblivious to 'em, but I asked her if she wouldn't rather wear
less noticeable attire.
And she said she cared not for ribald remarks as long as her motives wuz
pure.
And I said we could carry pure motives under a headdress of peacock's
feathers standin' up straight over our foreheads, but wouldn't it be
better to carry 'em under a bunnet?
"No better!" sez she. "Not a whit."
"Well, easier?" sez I. "Wouldn't it be easier for ourselves and
bystanders?"
Sez she, "I care not for Public Opinion!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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