No,--said I;--for that matter, I think you do credit to "the bountifully furnished table of the excellent lady who provides so liberally for the company that meets around her hospitable board."[The sentence in quotation-marks was from one of those disinterested editorials in small type, which I suspect to have been furnished by a friend of the landlady's, and paid for as an advertisement.This impartial testimony to the superior qualities of the establishment and its head attracted a number of applicants for admission, and a couple of new boarders made a brief appearance at the table.One of them was of the class of people who grumble if they don't get canvas-backs and woodcocks every day, for three-fifty per week.The other was subject to somnambulism, or walking in the night, when he ought to have been asleep in his bed.In this state he walked into several of the boarders' chambers, his eyes wide open, as is usual with somnambulists, and, from some odd instinct or other, wishing to know what the hour was, got together a number of their watches, for the purpose of comparing them, as it would seem.Among them was a repeater, belonging to our young Marylander.He happened to wake up while the somnambulist was in his chamber, and, not knowing his infirmity, caught hold of him and gave him a dreadful shaking, after which he tied his hands and feet, and so left him till morning, when he introduced him to a gentleman used to taking care of such cases of somnambulism.]
If you, my reader, will please to skip backward, over this parenthesis, you will come to our conversation, which it has interrupted.
It a'n't the feed,--said the young man John,--it's the old woman's looks when a fellah lays it in too strong.The feed's well enough.
After geese have got tough, 'n' turkeys have got strong, 'n' lamb's got old, 'n' veal's pretty nigh beef, 'n' sparragrass 's growin'
tall 'n' slim 'n' scattery about the head, 'n' green peas are gettin' so big 'n' hard they'd be dangerous if you fired 'em out of a revolver, we get hold of all them delicacies of the season.But it's too much like feedin' on live folks and devourin' widdah's substance, to lay yourself out in the eatin' way, when a fellah 's as hungry as the chap that said a turkey was too much for one 'n'
not enough for two.I can't help lookin' at the old woman.Corned-beef-days she's tolerable calm.Roastin'-days she worries some, 'n'
keeps a sharp eye on the chap that carves.But when there's anything in the poultry line, it seems to hurt her feelin's so to see the knife goin' into the breast and joints comin' to pieces, that there's no comfort in eatin'.When I cut up an old fowl and help the boarders, I always feel as if I ought to say, Won't you have a slice of widdah?--instead of chicken.
The young man John fell into a train of reflections which ended in his producing a Bologna sausage, a plate of "crackers," as we Boston folks call certain biscuits, and the bottle of whiskey described as being A 1.
Under the influence of the crackers and sausage, he grew cordial and communicative.
It was time, I thought, to sound him as to those of our boarders who had excited my curiosity.
What do you think of our young Iris?--I began.
Fust-rate little filly;-he said.--Pootiest and nicest little chap I've seen since the schoolma'am left.Schoolma'am was a brown-haired one,--eyes coffee-color.This one has got wine-colored eyes,--'n' that 's the reason they turn a fellah's head, I suppose.
This is a splendid blonde,--I said,--the other was a brunette.
Which style do you like best?
Which do I like best, boiled mutton or roast mutton?--said the young man John.Like 'em both,--it a'n't the color of 'em makes the goodness.I 've been kind of lonely since schoolma'am went away.
Used to like to look at her.I never said anything particular to her, that I remember, but---I don't know whether it was the cracker and sausage, or that the young fellow's feet were treading on the hot ashes of some longing that had not had time to cool, but his eye glistened as he stopped.
I suppose she wouldn't have looked at a fellah like me,--he said,--but I come pretty near tryin'.If she had said, Yes, though, Ishouldn't have known what to have done with her.Can't marry a woman now-a-days till you're so deaf you have to cock your head like a parrot to hear what she says, and so longsighted you can't see what she looks like nearer than arm's-length.
Here is another chance for you,--I said.--What do you want nicer than such a young lady as Iris?
It's no use,--he answered.--I look at them girls and feel as the fellah did when he missed catchin' the trout.--'To'od 'a' cost more butter to cook him 'n' he's worth,--says the fellah.--Takes a whole piece o' goods to cover a girl up now-a-days.I'd as lief undertake to keep a span of elephants,--and take an ostrich to board, too,--as to marry one of 'em.What's the use? Clerks and counter-jumpers ain't anything.Sparragrass and green peas a'n't for them,--not while they're young and tender.Hossback-ridin' a'n't for them,--except once a year, on Fast-day.And marryin' a'n't for them.
Sometimes a fellah feels lonely, and would like to have a nice young woman, to tell her how lonely he feels.And sometimes a fellah,--here the young man John looked very confidential, and, perhaps, as if a little ashamed of his weakness,--sometimes a fellah would like to have one o' them small young ones to trot on his knee and push about in a little wagon,--a kind of a little Johnny, you know;--it's odd enough, but, it seems to me, nobody can afford them little articles, except the folks that are so rich they can buy everything, and the folks that are so poor they don't want anything.It makes nice boys of us young fellahs, no doubt! And it's pleasant to see fine young girls sittin', like shopkeepers behind their goods, waitin', and waitin', and waitin', 'n' no customers,--and the men lingerin' round and lookin' at the goods, like folks that want to be customers, but have n't the money!
