Samantha at Saratoga by Marietta Holley (e book reader pc .TXT) 📗

Wall, after supper (a good supper and enough on’t), Josiah proposed that we should take a short walk, we two alone, for Ardelia wuz afar from us, most to the other end of the village, either asleep or a writin’ poetry, I didn’t know which, but I knew it wuz one or the other of ’em. And I wuz tired enough myself to lay my head down and repose in the arms of sleep, and told my companion so, but he said:

“Oh shaw! Let old Morpheus wait for us till we get back, there’ll be time enough to rest then.”

Josiah felt so neat, that he wuz fairly beginnin’ to talk high learnt, and classical. But I didn’t say nothin’ to break it up, and tied on my bonnet with calmness (and a double bow knot) and we sallied out.

Soon, or mebby a little after, for we didn’t walk fast on account of my deep tucker, we stood in front of what seemed to be one hull side of a long street, all full of orniments and open work, and pillows, and flowers, and carvin’s, and scallops, and down between every scollop hung a big basket full of posys, of every beautiful color under the heavens. And over all, and way back as fur as we could see, wuz innumerable lights of every color, gorgeousness a shinin’ down on gorgeousness, glory above, a shinin’ down on glory below. And sweet strains of music wuz a floatin, out from somewhere, a shinin’ somewhere, renderin’ the seen fur more beautiful to all 4 of our wraptured ears.

And Josiah sez, as we stood there nearly rooted to the place by our motions, and a picket fence, sez he dreamily,

“I almost feel as if we had made a mistake, and that this is the land of Beuler.” And he murmured to himself some words of the old him:

“Oh Beuler land! Sweet Beuler land!”

And I whispered back to him and sez—“Hush they don’t have brass bands in Beulah land.”

And he sez, “How do you know what they have in Beuler?”

“Wall,” sez I, “’taint likely they do.”

But I don’t know as I felt like blamin’ him, for it did seem to me to be the most beautiful place that I ever sot my eyes on. And it did seem fairly as if them long glitterin’ chains and links of colored lights, a stretchin’ fur back into the distance sort a begoned for us to enter into a land of perfect beauty and Pure Delight.

And then them glitterin’ chains of light would jine onto other golden, and crimson, and orange, and pink, and blue, and amber links of glory and hang there all drippin’ with radiance, and way back as fur as we could see. And away down under the shinin’ lanes the white statues stood, beautiful snow-white females, a lookin’ as if they enjoyed it all. And the lake mirrowed back all of the beauty.

Right out onto the lake stood a fairy-like structure all glowin’ with big drops of light and every glitterin’ drop reflected down in the water and the fountain a sprayin’ up on each side. Why it sprayed up floods of diamonds, and rubys, and sapphires, and topazzes, and turkeys, and pearls, and opals, and sparklin’ ’em right back into the water agin.

And right while we stood there, neerly rooted to the spot and gazin’ through extacy and 2 pickets, the band gin a loud burst of melody and then stopped, and after a minute of silence, we hearn a voice angel-sweet a risin’ up, up, like a lark, a tender-hearted, golden-throated lark.

High, high above all the throngs of human folks who wuz cheerin’ her down below - up above the sea of glitterin’ light - up above the bendin’ trees that clasped their hands together in silent applaudin’ above her, up, up, into the clear heavens, rose that glorious voice a singin’ some song about love, love that wuz deathless, eternal.

Why it seemed as if the very clouds wuz full of shadowy faces a bendin’ down to hear it, and the new moon, shaped just like a boat, had glided down, down the sky to listen.

If the man of the moon was there he wuz a layin’ in the bottom of the boat, he wuzn’t in sight. But if he heard that music I’ll bet he would say he wuzn’t in the practice of hearin’ any better. And Josiah stood stun still till she had got done, and then he sort a sithed out:

“Oh, it seems as if it must be Beuler land! Do you s’pose, Samantha, Beuler land is any more beautiful?”

And I sez, “I haint a thinkin’ about Beulah.” I sez it pretty middlin’ tart, partly to hide my own feelin’s, which wuz perfectly rousted up, and partly from principle, and sez I, “Don’t for mercy’s sake call it Beuler.”

Josiah always will call it so. I’ve got a 4th cousin, Beulah Smith (my own age and unmarried up to date), and he always did and would call her Beuler. Truly in some things a pardner’s influence and encouragement fails to accomplish the ends aimed at.

Wall, it wuz after some words that I drew Josiah away from that seen of enchantment - or he me, I don’t exactly know which way it wuz - and we wended onwards in our walk.

The hull broad streets wuz full of folks, full as they could be, all on ’em perfect strangers to us and who knew what motives or weapons they wuz a carryin’ with ’em; but we knew we wuz safe, Josiah and me did, for way up over all our heads, stood a big straight soldier, a volunteer volunteerin, to see to the hull crew on ’em below, a seein’ that they behaved themselves. His age wuz seventy-seven as near as I could make out but he didn’t look more’n half that. He had kep’ his age remarkable.