And as I glanced up at that man every little while through the day, I thought proudly to myself, there may be nobler lookin’ men there, and men that would weigh more by the steelyards, but there haint a whiter shirt bosom there than Josiah Allen’s.
When I got there the seats was full. Betsey Bobbet was jest ahead of me, and says she,
“Come on, Josiah Allen’s wife, let us have a seat, we can obtain one, if we push and scramble enough.” As I looked upon her carryin’ out her doctrine, pushin’ and scramblin’, I thought to myself, if I didn’t know to the contrary, I never should take you for a modest dignifier and retirer. And as I beheld her breathin’ hard, and her elboes wildly wavin’ in the air, pushin’ in between native men of Jonesville and foreigners, I again methought, I don’t believe you would be so sweaty and out of breath a votin’ as you be now. And as I watched her labors and efforts I continued to methink sadly, how strange! how strange! that retirin’ modesty and delicacy can stand so firm in some situations, and then be so quickly overthrowed in others seemin’ly not near so hard.
[Illustration: THE FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION]
Betsey finally got a seat, wedged in between a large healthy Irishman and a native constable, and she motioned for me to come on, at the same time pokin’ a respectable old gentleman in front of her, with her parasol, to make him move along. Says I,
“I may as well die one way as another, as well expier a standin’ up, as in tryin’ to get a seat,” and I quietly leaned up against a hemlock tree and composed myself for events. A man heard my words which I spoke about ½ to myself, and says he,
Says he “I am jest comin’ down with a fit, I have got to leave the ground instantly.”
Says I “In them cases I will.” So I sot. His tongue seemed thick, and his breath smelt of brandy, but I make no insinuations.
About noon Prof. Aspire Todd walked slowly on to the ground, arm in arm with the editor of the Gimlet, old Mr. Bobbet follerin’ him closely behind. Countin’ 2 eyes to a person, and the exceptions are triflin’, there was 700 and fifty or sixty eyes aimed at him as he walked through the crowd. He was dressed in a new shinin’ suit of black, his complexion was deathly, his hair was jest turned from white, and was combed straight back from his forward and hung down long, over his coat coller. He had a big moustache, about the color of his hair, only bearin’ a little more on the sandy, and a couple of pale blue eyes with a pair of spectacles over ’em.