Samantha at the World's Fair - Part 63
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Part 63

Oh, my soul, oh, my soul, think on't!

And there wuz what they called a gravity road.

And I asked Josiah "what he spozed that wuz?" and he said,

"He guessed it meant our country roads in the spring or fall."

Sez he, "If them roads won't make a man feel grave to drive over 'em, or a horse feel grave, too, as they are a-wadin' up to their knees in the mud, and a-draggin' a wagon stuck half way up over the hub in slush and thick mud"--

Sez he, "If a man won't feel grave under such circ.u.mstances, and a horse, too, then I don't know what will make him."

"Wall," sez I, "if I wuz in Uncle Sam's place I wouldn't try to display 'em to foreign nations." Sez I, "They are disgraces to our country, and I would hush 'em up."

"Yes," sez Josiah; "that is a woman's first idee to cover up sunthin'."

Sez he, "I honor the old man a-comin' right out and ownin' up his weaknesses. The country roads are shameful, and he knew it, and he knew that we knew it; so why not come right out open and show 'em up?"

"Wall," sez I, "it would look as well agin in him to show a good road--a good country road, that one could go over in the spring of the year without wishin' to do as Job did--curse G.o.d and die."

Sez Josiah, "Job didn't do that; his wife wanted him to, and he refused; men hain't profane naterally."

"Josiah Allen," sez I, "the language you have used over that Jonesville road in muddy times has been enough to chill the blood in my veins. Tell me that men hain't profane!"

"Not naterally, I said; biles and country roads is enough to make Job and me swear." And he looked gloomy as he thought of the stretch from Grout Hozletons to Jonesville, and how it looked from March till June.

"Wall," sez I, "less get our minds off on't," and I hurried him on to look at the Austrian exhibit, and the Alps seemed to git his mind off some.

There they wuz. There was the Alps, with a railroad in the foreground; then the ship of the Invincible Armada, in the Madrid exhibit, seemed to take up his mind; and all of the guns, from the fifteenth century on to our day; and the Spanish collection of models of block-houses, forts, castles, towers, and so forth.

In the middle of the main buildin' stood two big masts fifty feet high--one of our own day, with every modern convenience; the other like them masts on them ships of Columbus.

I hope our sails will waft on the ship of our country to as great a success as Columbuses did. Mebby it will; I hope so.

Wall, after we left the Transportation Buildin', sez Josiah, "I am dead sick of grandeur, and palaces 30 and 40 acres big, and gildin', and arches, and pillars, and iron."

Sez he, "I would give a cent this minute to see our sugar house, and if I could see Sam Widrig's hovel, where he keeps his sheep, and our old log milk house, I'd be willin' to give a dollar bill."

"Wall," sez I, in a kinder low voice, for I didn't want it to git out--I felt that I would ruther lose no end of comfort than to hurt the Christopher Columbus World's Fair's feelin's--

I whispered, "I feel jest exactly as you do. And," sez I, "less go and find a cabin and some huts if we can, and a board."

So we, havin' been told before where we should find these, wended our way to the Esquimo village, and lo! there wuz a big board fence round it.

And Josiah went up and laid his hand on them good hemlock boards lovin'ly, and sez he, "It looks good enough to eat." I could hardly withdraw him from it--he clung to it like a brother.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "It looks good enough to eat."]

Wall, inside that board fence wuz a number of cabins or huts, containin'

some of 'em a hide bag or a bed, a dog sled with some strips of tin for a harness, and some plain tables, white as snow in some huts, and in some as black as dirt could make 'em.

There wuz about fifty or sixty males and females and children there, and one on 'em, a little bit of a baby, born right there on the Fair ground.

She wuz about as big as a little toy doll. She wuz a-swingin' there in a little hammock, and she didn't seem to care a mite whether she wuz born up to the Arctic Pole or in Chicago. Good land! what did she care about the pole? Mother love wuz the hull equatorial circle to her, and it wuz a-bendin' right over her.

The little mother had pantaloons on, and didn't seem to like it; she had a long jacket and some moccasins.

Right there inside of that board fence is as good a object lesson as you'll find of the cleansin' and elevatin' power of the Christian religion. There wuz two heathen families, and their cabins wuz dirty and squalid, while the Christianized homes are as clean and pure as hands can make 'em.

First G.o.dliness, and then cleanliness.

The way the Esquimos tell their age is to have a bag with stuns in it for years. Every year in the middle of summer they drop a stun in. How handy that would be for them who want to act young--why jest let the summer run by without droppin' the stun in, or let a hole come sort o'

axidental in the bag, and let a few drop out. But, then, what good would it do?

Sence Old Time himself is a-storin' up the stunny years in his bag that can't be d.i.c.kered with, or deceived.

And he will jest hit you over the head with them stuns; they will hit your head and make it gray--hit your eyes, and they will lose their bright light--hit your strong young limbs and make 'em weak and sort o'

wobblin'.

What use is there a-tryin' to drop 'em out of your own private collection of stuns?

But to resoom. The Esquimos show forth some traits that are dretful interestin' to a philosopher and a investigator.

They do well with what they have to do with.

Now, no sewin' machine ever made finer st.i.tches than they take on their sleepin' bags and their rain coats, etc.

But the thread they use is only reindeer sinews split fine with their teeth.

What would they do with sewin' silk and No. 70 thread?

I believe they would do wonders if they had things to do with.

There wuz one young boy who they said wuz fifteen, but he didn't look more'n seven or eight. He looked out from his little cap that come right up from his coat, or whatever you call it; it looks some like the loose frock that Josiah sometimes wears on the farm, only of course Josiah's don't have a hood to it.

No, indeed; I never can make him wear a hood in our wildest storms, nor a sun-bunnet.

But this little Esquimo, whose name is Pomyak, he looked out on the world as if he wuz a-drinkin' in knowledge in every pore; he looked kinder cross, too, and morbid. I guess lookin' at ice-suckles so much had made his nater kinder cold.

And who knows what changes it will make in his future up there in the frozen north--his summer spent here in Chicago?

Anyway, durin' the long, long night, he will always have sunthin'

besides the northern lights to light up its darkness.

What must memory do for him as he sits by the low fire durin' the six months night?

Cold and blackness outside, and in his mind the warm breath of summer lands, the gay crowds, the throng of motley dressed foreigners, the marvellous city of white palaces by the blue waters.

Wall, Josiah got real rested and sort o' sot up agin. And he laid his hand agin lovin'ly on the boards as we left the seen.