第43章 MISS G.WASHINGTON FLAMM(6)

"That's so," sez I, whisperin' back to him, "and don't let it worry you a mite.Don't try to act like Haman," sez I."You are havin' lots of the good things of this world, and are goin' to have some fried potatoes.Don't let them two Mordecais at the gate, poison all your happiness, or you may get come up with jest as Haman wuz.""I'd love to hang'em," sez he, "as high as Haman's gallows would let 'em hang.""Why," sez I, "they haint injured you in any way.They seem to eat like perfect gentlemen.A little too exclusive and aristocratic, mebby, but they haint done nothin' to you.""No," sez he, "that is the stick on it, here we be, three men with a lot of wimmen.And they can't associate with me as man with man, but set off by themselves too dumb proud to say a word to me, that is the dumb of it."But at this very minute, before I could rebuke him for his feerful profanity, Miss Flamm motioned to us to come and take a seat round a little table, and consequently we sot.

It was a long broad piazza with sights and sights of folks on it a settin' round little tables like our'n, and all a lookin'

happy, and a laughin', and a talkin' and a drinkin' different drinks, sech as lemonade, etc., and eatin' fried potatoes and sech.

And out in the road by which we had come, wuz sights and sights of vehicles and conveyances of all kinds from big Tally Ho coaches with four horses on 'em, down to a little two wheeled buggy.The road wuz full on'em.

In front of us, down at the bottom of a steep though beautiful hill, lay stretched out the clear blue waters of the lake.

Smooth and tranquil it looked in the light of that pleasant afternoon, and fur off, over the shinin' waves, lay the island.

And white-sailed boats wuz a sailin' slowly by, and the shadow of their white sails lay down in the water a floatin' on by the side of the boats, lookin' some like the wings of that white dove that used to watch over Lake Saratoga.

And as I looked down on the peaceful seen, the feelin's I had down in the wild wood, back of the Gizer Spring come back to me.

The waves rolled in softly from fur off, fur off, bringin' a greetin' to me unbeknown to anybody, unbeknown to me.It come into my heart unbidden, unsought, from afur, afur.

Where did it come from that news of lands more beautiful than any that lay round Mr.Moons'es, beautiful as it wuz.

Echoes of music sweeter fur than wuz a soundin' from the band down by the shore, music heard by some finer sense than heard that, heavenly sweet, heavenly sad, throbbin' through the remoteness of that country, through the nearness of it, and fillin' my eyes with tears.Not sad tears, not happy ones, but tears that come only to them that shet their eyes and behold the country, and love it.The waves softly lappin' the shore brought a message to me; my soul hearn it.Who sent it? And where, and when, and why?

Not a trace of these emotions could be read on my countenance as I sot there calmly a eatin' fried potatoes.And they did go beyond anything I ever see in the line of potatoes, and I thought I could fry potatoes with any one: Yes, such wuz my feelin's when I sot out for Mr.Moons'es.But I went back a thinkin' that potatoes had never been fried by me, sech is the power of a grand achievment over a inferior one, and so easy is the sails taken down out of the swellin' barge of egotism.

No, them potatoes you could carry in your pocket for weeks right by the side of the finest lace, and the lace would be improved by the purity of 'em.Fried potatoes in that condition, you could eat 'em with the lightest silk gloves one and the tips of the fingers would be improved by 'em; fried potatoes, jest think on't!

Wall, we had some lemonade too, and if you'll believe it, -- Idon't s'pose you will but it is the truth, -- there wuz straws in them glasses too.But you may as well believe it for I tell the truth at all times, and if I wuz a goin' to lie, I wouldn't lie about lemons.And then I've always noticed it, that if things git to happenin' to you, lots of things jest like it will happen.

That made twice in one week or so, that I had found straws in my tumbler.But then I have had company three days a runnin', rainy days too sometimes.It haint nothin' to wonder at too much.Any way it is the truth.

Wall, we drinked our lemonade, I a quietly takin' out the straws and droppin' 'em on the floor at my side in a quiet ladylike manner, and Josiah, a bein' wunk at by me, doin' the same thing.

And anon, our carriage drove up to the end of the piazza agin and we sot sail homewards.And the dog barked at Josiah almost every step of the way back, and when we got to our boardin' place, Miss Flamm shook hands with us both, and her relatives never took a mite of notice of us, further than to jump down and open the carriage door for us as we got out.(They are genteel in their manners, and Josiah had to admit that they wuz, much as his feelin's wuz hurt by their haughtiness towards him.)And then the dog, and Miss Flamm and Miss Flamm's relatives drove off.