And he whispered back real voyalent: "Don't think, Samantha, of gittin' me to lug one of them fifty-foot trees all the way hum. I've broke my back for years luggin' round your old oleander in a tub, but never will I tackle one of them trees," and he looked up defiantly into the glossy boughs overhead.
"I hain't asked you to, Josiah, but," sez I dreamily: "I would love to git some slips of them fuchia and begonia trees, and that jasmine," sez I, pintin' up to the emerald waves of foliage enriched by them I have named, and as many other glowin' with perfume and beauty as there are stars in the heavens, or so it seemed to me. Sez I: "What a show I could make in Jonesville with 'em." Sez I: "What would Miss Bobbett and Sister Henzy say if they could see 'em?" And I pinted up at a gigantick trumpet creeper and convolvuli, festooned along the boughs of a giant geranium and hanging down its banner of bloom.
"They'd say, let well enough alone. I tell you I can't break up my trip diggin' dirt and tendin' to a lot of houseplants from Dan to Beersheba."
"We're not goin' to Dan," sez I, "and if we wuz a man might meet Dan doin' worse than pleasin' his pardner. Look at that jasmine," sez I. "Is that much like that little slip of Sister Bobbett's growin' in a tea-cup? And see! oh, do see, Josiah, them night bloomin' ceriuses! Oh, take it on a moonlight night, the walls of fragrant green on either side, and them lovely blows, hundreds and thousands of 'em shinin' out like stars of whiteness, full of the odor of Paradise. Oh, what a sight, Josiah Allen, for us to see!"
And he sez, "Don't git any idee, Samantha, of you and me comin' way back here by moonlight, for we can't do it. The road is thirty milds long, and if we tried it we shouldn't git here till they had done blowin'."
"I hain't no idee of tryin' it, Josiah, I wuz only revellin' in the idee of what the glory of the sight must be."
"Well," sez he, "I am revellin' in the idee of havin' a good meat dinner if we ever git to Hilo." And he added with a sarcastick smile, "Don't that make you think of poker? High, low--all it wants is Jack and the Game."
I gin him a stern look and sez, "Some knowledge is demeanin' to a perfessor." And he acted puggicky and didn't say another word for a mild or so. But I sot calm and looked away into the entrancin' seen. And all the time we wuz rollin' on towards the volcano.