Josiah had to go to Jonesville that afternoon after necessaries, and I sot all alone in my cheerful kitchen almost lost in a train of pleasant thoughts, and some sort o’ pensive ones, and at the same time windin’ a skein of blue-and-white clouded yarn for Josiah’s socks, when I hearn a little rap at the side door and opened it, and see to my surprise Miss Greene Smythe’s black coachman, Pompey, who handed me a note from his mistress, sayin’ she wanted me to answer it, so I told him to come in and sot him a chair. He stood by it, twiddlin’ his cap round in his hands and hesitatin’, but on my tellin’ him agin to set, he sot. Sidled down into the chair, settin’ on the extreme edge of it.
And I took out my readin’ specks and opened the note; it wuz big and square, and had a curious-lookin’ seal on the back, with some strange figgers and a word or two on’t, but it didn’t seem to be spelt right; I couldn’t make out what it meant; it wuz sunthin’ like this, Astra Castra Numan luman.
But if she meant anything about castor oil or somebody by the name of Newman, anybody could see that there wuzn’t any spellin’ to it. But then, I sez to myself as I read it, though I pity such a speller, let me not be hauty because I have had advantages and spelt down the school repeatedly.
So I opened the letter. It wuz a invitation for me to attend a bazar for the benefit of the heathen at her boarding place. But, good land! it wuz two or three weeks off, and I wondered if she thought it would take all that time for me to do up my work and git ready. I thought she little knew my faculty in turnin’ off work if she did. But then I meditated mebby she thought I would have to fix over my black alpacky dress, or bind my flannel petticoat; anyway, I spozed it wuz all well enough.
I thought I would try to go if I could, and sot down to write her a note, and thought I would write it as near like hers as I could, spozin’ hers wuz in the height of fashion. But on runnin’ it over in my mind whether I could go or not, I remembered jest in the nick of time that wuz just about the time our old hen turkey would come off; it ort to come off the day before, but might hang fire. She wuz settin’ on nineteen eggs under the horse barn, and I wouldn’t run the chance of her streakin’ off to the swamp with all them young turkeys, party or no party, so, as I didn’t want her to git up no false hopes, I wrote:
“Josiah Allen’s wife and Josiah presents their compliments to Miss Greene Smythe, and they will be happy to visit her on date mentioned if their old hen turkey hatches at the time it ort to, and they spoze it will.
“Yours truly,
“JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE.”
And then, as I see she had put in a lot of letters on one side to kinder ornament it off, “R. S. V. P.”
And I spoze she meant Remember Samantha—V—sunthin’ or ruther to my Pardner. I couldn’t make out what that V did mean; mebby she meant to hint that my pardner wuz voyalent sometimes. But, good land! I thought that if I had been throwed round as she had by companions, I wouldn’t go to hintin’ about somebody else’s pardner; but, howsumever, I don’t know as that wuz what she did mean; but, ’tennyrate, the letters strung out so did look kinder noble, and I thought I would put on more than she did, both for looks and meanin’, so I put on mine, “W. C. I. T. C. O. B.”
And, bein’ one that means to be square and aboveboard even in fashionable correspondence, I put on in a postscript the meanin’ of the letters—“We’ll come if turkey comes off before.”
So, fashion and duty bein’ both tended to, I handed the note to Pompey, done up in a good, large, yeller envelope, such as Josiah uses in the cheese factory, for I see that fashion demanded a larger one than I used in ordinary, and then I went into the pantry and brought out a plate of fried cakes and cream cheese for him, and he seemed real tickled; he knew the taste of my fried cakes, for I had gin him some before when he had been down on errents for Miss Greene Smythe, and after he had eat the cakes and cheese up to the last crumb, he sot there still and twiddled his tall hat in his hand and seemed to be wantin’ to ask me sunthin’ but wuz afraid to, and finally, to relieve his misery, which wuz evident, I sez:
“Is there anything else you wanted, Pompey?”
And then it all come out. He wanted me to write a letter for him to his sweetheart in old Virginia. He said they wuz engaged; he wuz goin’ to marry her when he went back home, and he had lots of things to tell her. He apoligized almost abjectly for askin’ me to write, but he said he might as well ask the Mornin’ Star to write for him as either of his ladies, they wuz so high and mighty, never speaking’ to him only to order him round.
Well, I told him I would write the letter, and I walked up to the mantery piece agin and took down my pen and ink, and got out a sheet of paper. He told me while I wuz makin’ my preparations that he couldn’t write yet, but he said proudly he could read, he had read a little book all though, mighty good readin’ in it, too, he said.
Well, I read it out as I commenced it, “Jonesville, July 17th,” but he stopped me and sez: “I don’t want that on, anyway.”
Sez I, “Why not?”
“Oh, my folks won’t know nothin’ about Jonesville; begin it Chicago; she’s got a brudder dere.”
“But I can’t, Pompey; I must begin it where you are; it isn’t proper to begin it Chicago.”
“Well, den, c’mence dat lettah Bermudy Islands; she’s got a uncle dar.”
“Why, I can’t. You don’t live anywhere nigh Bermuda Islands.”
“Dat makes no diffunce, Miss Allen; I want dat lettah from somewheah they will know about. She’s done got folks in both dem places, and she’ll know about ’em.”
Well, I couldn’t persuade him to have it Jonesville, so I comprimised on New York, for, thinkses I, it is in New York, and it won’t be lyin’, anyway; and I sez, “Now, Pompey, what shall I write?”
“Begin it, ‘Strong drink is ragin’.’”
“Why,” sez I, “you don’t want that in a letter.”
“Yes, I do; I read it in my own little book. She’ll know jest how high learnt I am when she sees dat.”
Well, thinkses I, it is good readin’ anyhow, so I put it down. And he went on:
“At de las’ it stingeth like a laddah.”
But I jest contended on that, sez I, “Why, ladders can’t sting; it hain’t their nater.”
Sez he, “Dey can, for my book sez so.”
“Why,” sez I, “how can anything sting that hain’t got any stingers?”
But he contended till I wuz wore out and thought I would put down things jest as he told me, but I spelt it onbeknown to him a-d-d-e-r, I would. That letter wuz the moralist letter that I ever see, but the curiousest, every word of it wuz took from the school book he had learnt by heart, and it ended up with “Go to the ant, thou sluggard.” The curiousest love letter I ever see or expect to. But it suited Pompey, and if a bo, black or white, is suited with the letter he sends his girl, that is all that can be expected or desired. He told me to direct it to
“Priscilla Dinah Bones,
“Ole Foginnia.”
And I hope it got there. I tried hard to have him tell me where in Virginia Miss Bones lived.
But he said everybody would know her, ole Foginnia wuz the place she lived in, and he wouldn’t direct it anywhere else.
So I directed it Virginia, but I left off the Old, I would.