Samantha on the Woman Question by Marietta Holley (uplifting book club books TXT) 📗

“I wanted to visit the Capitol of our country.... So we laid out to go.”

Lorinda lived on the old Allen place, and I always sot store by her, and her girl, Polly, wuz, as Thomas J. said, a peach. She had spent one of her college vacations with us, and a sweeter, prettier, brighter girl I don’t want to see. Her name is Pauline, but everybody calls her Polly.

The Cagwins are rich, and Polly had every advantage money could give, and old Mom Nater gin her a lot of advantages money couldn’t buy, beauty and intellect, a big generous heart and charm. And you know the Cagwins couldn’t bought that at no price. Charm in a girl is like the perfume in a rose, and can’t be bought or sold. And you can’t handle or describe either on ’em exactly. But what a influence they have; how they lay holt of your heart and fancy.

Royal Gray, the young man who wuz payin’ attention to her, stopped once for a day or two in Jonesville with Polly and her Ma on their way to the Cagwins’ camp in the Adirondacks. And we all liked him so well that we agreed in givin’ him this extraordinary praise, we said he wuz worthy of Polly, we knowed of course that wuz the highest enconium possible for us to give.

Good lookin’, smart as a whip, and deep, you could see that by lookin’ into his eyes, half laughin’ and half serious eyes and kinder sad lookin’ too under the fun, as eyes must be in this world of ourn if they look back fur, or ahead much of any. A queer world this is, and kinder sad and mysterious, behind all the good and glory on’t.

He wuz jest out of Harvard school and as full of life and sperits as a colt let loose in a clover field. He went out in the hay field, he and Polly, and rode home on top of a load of hay jest as nateral and easy and bare-headed as if he wuz workin’ for wages, and he the only son of a millionaire—we all took to him.

Well, when the news got out that I wuz goin’ to visit Washington, D.C., all the neighbors wanted to send errents by me. Betsy Bobbet Slimpsey wanted a dozen Patent Office books for scrap books for her poetry.

Uncle Nate Gowdey wanted me to go to the Agricultural Buro and git him a paper of lettuce seed. And Solomon Sypher wanted me to git him a new kind of string beans and some cowcumber seeds.

Uncle Jarvis Bentley, who wuz goin’ to paint his house, wanted me to ask the President what kind of paint he used on the White House. He thought it ort to be a extra kind to stand the sharp glare that wuz beatin’ down on it constant, and to ask him if he didn’t think the paint would last longer and the glare be mollified some if they used pure white and clear ile in it, and left off whitewash and karseen.

Ardelia Rumsey, who is goin’ to be married, wanted me, if I see any new kinds of bedquilt patterns at the White House or the Senator’s housen, to git patterns for ’em. She said she wuz sick of sun flowers and blazin’ stars. She thought mebby they’d have sunthin’ new, spread eagle style. She said her feller wuz goin’ to be connected with the Govermunt and she thought it would be appropriate.

And I asked her how. And she said he wuz goin’ to git a patent on a new kind of jack knife.

I told her that if she wanted a govermunt quilt and wanted it appropriate she ort to have a crazy quilt.

And she said she had jest finished a crazy quilt with seven thousand pieces of silk in it, and each piece trimmed with seven hundred stitches of feather stitchin’—she’d counted ’em. And then I remembered seein’ it. There wuz a petition fer wimmen’s rights and I remember Ardelia couldn’t sign it for lack of time. She wanted to, but she hadn’t got the quilt more than half done. It took the biggest heft of two years to do it. And so less important things had to be put aside.

And Ardelia’s mother wanted to sign it, but she couldn’t owin’ to a bed-spread she wuz makin’. She wuz quiltin’ in Noah’s Ark and all the animals on a Turkey red quilt. I remember she wuz quiltin’ the camel that day and couldn’t be disturbed, so we didn’t git the names. It took the old lady three years, and when it wuz done it wuz a sight to behold, though I wouldn’t want to sleep under so many animals. But folks went from fur and near to see it, and I enjoyed lookin’ at it that day.

Zebulin Coon wanted me to carry a new hen coop of hisen to git patented. And I thought to myself I wonder if they will ask me to carry a cow.

And sure enough Elnathan Purdy wanted me to dicker for a calf from Mount Vernon, swop one of his yearlin’s for it.

But the errents Serepta Pester sent wuz fur more hefty and momentous than all the rest put together, calves, hen coop, cow and all.

And when she told ’em over to me, and I meditated on her reasons for sendin’ ’em and her need of havin’ ’em done, I felt that I would do the errents for her if a breath wuz left in my body. She come for a all day’s visit; and though she is a vegetable widow and humbly, I wuz middlin’ glad to see her. But thinkses I as I carried her things into my bedroom, “She’ll want to send some errent by me”; and I wondered what it would be.

And so it didn’t surprise me when she asked me if I would lobby a little for her in Washington. I spozed it wuz some new kind of tattin’ or fancy work. I told her I shouldn’t have much time but would try to git her some if I could.

And she said she wanted me to lobby myself. And then I thought mebby it wuz a new kind of dance and told her, “I wuz too old to lobby, I hadn’t lobbied a step since I wuz married.”

And then she explained she wanted me to canvas some of the Senators.

And I hung back and asked her in a cautious tone, “How many she wanted canvassed, and how much canvas it would take?”

I had a good many things to buy for my tower, and though I wanted to obleege Serepta, I didn’t feel like runnin’ into any great expense for canvas.

And then she broke off from that subject, and said she wanted her rights and wanted the Whiskey Ring broke up.

And she talked a sight about her children, and how bad she felt to be parted from ’em, and how she used to worship her husband and how her hull life wuz ruined and the Whiskey Ring had done it, that and wimmen’s helpless condition under the law and she cried and wep’ and I did. And right while I wuz cryin’ onto that gingham apron, she made me promise to carry them two errents of hern to the President and git ’em done for her if I possibly could.

She wanted the Whiskey Ring destroyed and her rights, and she wanted ’em both inside of two weeks.

I told her I didn’t believe she could git ’em done inside that length of time, but I would tell the President about it, and I thought more’n likely as not he would want to do right by her. “And,” sez I, “if he sets out to, he can haul them babies of yourn out of that Ring pretty sudden.”

And then to git her mind offen her sufferin’s, I asked how her sister Azuba wuz gittin’ along? I hadn’t heard from her for years. She married Phileman Clapsaddle, and Serepty spoke out as bitter as a bitter walnut, and sez she:

“She’s in the poor-house.”

“Why, Serepta Pester!” sez I, “what do you mean?”

“I mean what I say, my sister, Azuba Clapsaddle, is in the poor-house.”

“Why, where is their property gone?” sez I. “They wuz well off. Azuba had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him.”

“I know it,” sez she, “and I can tell you, Josiah Allen’s wife, where their property has gone, it has gone down Phileman Clapsaddle’s throat. Look down that man’s throat and you will see 150 acres of land, a good house and barn, twenty sheep and forty head of cattle.”

“Why-ee!” sez I.

“Yes, and you’ll see four mules, a span of horses, two buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo robes. He’s drinked ’em all up, and two horse rakes, a cultivator, and a thrashin’ machine.”

“Why-ee!” sez I agin. “And where are the children?”

“The boys have inherited their father’s habits and drink as bad as he duz and the oldest girl has gone to the bad.”

“Oh dear! oh dear me!” sez I, and we both sot silent for a spell. And then thinkin’ I must say sunthin’ and wantin’ to strike a safe subject and a good lookin’ one, I sez:

“Where is your Aunt Cassandra’s girl? That pretty girl I see to your house once?”

“That girl is in the lunatick asylum.”

“Serepta Pester,” sez I, “be you tellin’ the truth?”

“Yes, I be, the livin’ truth. She went to New York to buy millinery goods for her mother’s store. It wuz quite cool when she left home and she hadn’t took off her winter clothes, and it come on brilin’ hot in the city, and in goin’ about from store to store the heat and hard work overcome her and she fell down in a