Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife by Marietta Holley (life changing books TXT) 📗

“The healing of that seamless dress

 Is by our beds of pain,

We feel it in life’s care and stress––

 And we are strong again.”

I looked up to the brow of the hill whereon this city is built, and my mind wuz all wrought up thinkin’ of how the Christ stood up in the synagogue and told for the first time of his mission in these incomparable words so dear to-day to all true ministers and lovers of God’s words, and all earnest reformers from that day down:

“The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the 294 captive, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.”

Oh, what a divine mission! not to the great and lofty and happy, but to the poor, the broken-hearted, the bruised and the blind. How his heart yearned over them even as it duz to-day. And how did the world receive it? Just as Truth is received to-day, anon or oftener; they thrust Him out of the synagogue, dragged Him to the brow of this very hill that they might cast Him off. But we read that He passed through the midst of them and went his way, just as Truth will and must. It can’t be slain by its opposers; though they may turn it out of their high places by force, it will appear to ’em agin as an accuser.

But oh, what feelin’s I felt as I looked on that very hill, the very ground where He passed through their midst unharmed! I had a great number of emotions, and I guess Josiah did, although his wuz softened down some and dissipated by hunger, and Tommy, dear little lamb! he too wuz hungry, so we all went to a little tarven where we got some food, not over good, but better than nothin’.

The roads all about Nazareth and Jerusalem are very stony and rocky, so we can see how hard it wuz, in a physical sense, for our Lord to perform the journeys He did, for they wuz almost always on foot.

Well, that evenin’ at the tarven in Jerusalem, Miss Meechim and Dorothy and I wuz in the settin’ room, and Dorothy set down to the little piano and played and sung some real sweet pieces, and several of the English people who had come on the steamer with us gathered round her to hear the music, and amongst them wuz two young gentlemen we had got acquainted with––real bright, handsome young chaps they wuz––and they looked dretful admirin’ at Dorothy, and I didn’t wonder at it, for she looked as pretty as a new-blown rose, and her voice had the sweetness and freshness of a June mornin’ in it, when the air is full and runnin’ over with the song of bird and bee, and the soft murmur of the southern 295 breeze amongst the dewy flowers. She wuz singin’ old Scottish and English ballads, and more than one eye wuz wet as she sang about “Auld Joe Nicholson’s Bonnie Nannie,” and “I’m Wearin’ Away, Jean,” and the dear old “Annie Laurie.”

Miss Meechim looked worried and anxious, and sez she: “Oh, how I do wish Robert Strong wuz here. Oh, dear! what a trial it is to keep young folks apart.”

And I sez: “What makes you try to? It is jest as nateral for ’em to like each other’s company as it is for bluebirds and robins to fly round together in the spring of the year, and no more hurt in it, as I can see.”

Sez she impressively: “Haven’t I told you, Josiah Allen’s wife, my wearing anxiety, my haunting fear that in spite of all my efforts and labors Dorothy will marry some one in spite of me? You know how invincibly opposed I am to matrimony. And you can see for yourself just how much admiration she gits everywhere, and one of those young men,” sez she, frowning darkly on a handsome young Englishman, “I am sure is in earnest. See the expression of his face––it is simply worship. He would throw himself on his knees in front of her this minute if there were not so many round. Oh, why don’t Robert come and protect her?”

Her face looked fairly haggard with anxiety, but even as I looked the anxious lines wuz smoothed from her worried face like magic, and I see Robert Strong come in and approach the group at the piano.

Miss Meechim leaned back in her chair in a restful, luxurious attitude, and sez she: “Oh, what a relief! What a burden has rolled off from me! Robert knows just how I feel; he will protect her from matrimony. Now I can converse with ease and comfort,” and she turned the subject round on missionary teas and socials and the best way to get ’em up.

The next mornin’ Arvilly didn’t appear to breakfast. I waited some time for her, for I wanted her to go sightseeing 296 with me, and Arvilly wuz as punctual as the sun himself about gittin’ up in the mornin’, and about as early.

I thought to myself: “Is Arvilly a-goin’ to come up missin’, as our dear Aronette did?” I wuz agitated. I sent to her room, but no answer. My agitation increased. I then went to her room myself, but my knock at her door elicited no reply. I then spoke in anxious, appealin’ axents:

“Arvilly, are you there? And are you sick a-bed? Or are you dead? Answer me, Arvilly, if either of my conjectures are true!”

My axent was such that she answered to once, “I hain’t dead, Josiah Allen’s wife, and I hain’t sick, only heart-sick.”

Sez I, “Let me in then; I can’t have you there alone, Arvilly.”

“I hain’t alone!” sez she. “Grief is here, and everlastin’ shame for my country.”

It come to me in a minute, this wuz the anniversary of her husband’s death, the day our govermunt’s pardner, the licensed saloon, had murdered him down in Cuba.

I sez, “May God help you, Arvilly!” And I turned onto my heel and left. But I sent up a tray of good vittles which wuz refused, and I d’no as she eat a mou’ful that day.

At night I went agin to the door, and agin I hearn the sound of weepin’ inside.

Sez I, “Arvilly, let me in; I’ve got a letter for you from Waitstill Webb.”

Sweet little creeter! She remembered her agony, and dropped this flower onto the grave of Arvilly’s happiness. Oh, how she, too, wuz suffering that day, wherever she wuz, and I wondered as much as Tommy ever did about the few cents the govermunt received for the deadly drink that caused these murders and the everlastin’ sorrow that flowed out of ’em.

Well, Arvilly told me to put the letter under the door, which I did. But nothin’ more could I git out of her; and though I sent up another tray of food to her, that too come 297 down untouched; and as I told Josiah, I didn’t know as I could do anything more for her, as bad as I felt, only to think of her and pray for her.

“Yes,” sez he, “we will remember Sister Arvilly at the throne of grace at evenin’ worship.” And after we went to our room he did make a able prayer, askin’