I cannot stanch your bosom’s bleedin’, Sometimes I am a yieldin’ one, Sometimes I’m turned by tears and pleadin’; But here you’ll find that I am stun. Ah, yes! B. Bobbet I’ll remain, Unless I see my duty plain. You needn’t lay no underhanded Plots to ketch me—men, desist, Or in the dust you will be landed, For to the last I will resist; For Betsey Bobbet I’ll remain, Unless I see my duty plain. Fond men, their ain’t no use in kickin’ Against the pricks; you’ll only tear Your feet, for I am bound on stickin’ To what I’ve said. Beware! beware! For Betsey Bobbet I’ll remain, Unless I see my duty plain. “You see I have come out in my right name,” sez she, as she concluded. “When a person gets famous, there ain’t no use in concealin’ their name any longer; it looks affected.” “You be a nateral,” says I to myself; “a nateral fool.” But I didn’t speak it audible—outwardly, I was calm; fer there was still a gloomy shadder broodin’ over her eyebrow, and I didn’t want to bruise her lacerated feelin’s any further. Pretty soon she spoke up ag’in. “What do you think of the poetry?” sez she. That was a tryin’ time fer me. As a general thing, I don’t mince matters. I won’t; but now, fer reasons named, I didn’t come right out, as I should on more festive occasions. I kinder turned it off by sayin’ in a mild, yet impressive tone: “Betsey, I believe you want to do your duty; and I believe you will, if it is ever made known to you by anybody’s askin’ you.” Sez she: “Josiah Allen’s wife, duty has always been my aim.” Any further remarks was cut short by old Mr. Bobbet’s goin’ past, and Betsey’s hollerin’ to him to ride home with him. And she went in such a hurry, she left her magazine behind. When Josiah got home, which was ’most night, he threw a magazine into my lap, as I sot knittin’, and sez he: “I’ll bet forty-five cents against nothin’ that you’ll lend it to some woman in less than a fortnit.” I looked at him with my most collected and stiddy gaze, and sez I; “Josiah Allen, do you consider me any of a lunytick?” He didn’t say nothin’, and agin I inquired firmly, with my eyes bent on his: “Josiah Allen, do you see any marks of luny in my glance?” Sez he: “You are in your right mind; no trouble about that.”