And the very hardest and most tuckerin’ place it ever cantered into, the most gaulin’ and awfulest place it ever pranced round in, is other folks’es housen. When it comes to advisin’ folks promiscously, under their own “vials and mantletrees,” never, never do I feel such temptations to give up my shield and fall offen his back. Oh, John Rogers! you never, never suffered more excruciatin’ly than does Josiah Allen’s wife in such moments. Nothin’, nothin’ but principle could nerve me up to the agonizin’ effort. As I said, I didn’t say no more to the old Deacon that night in a martyr way, and oh! what a relief it was to dismount from the prancin’ steed of Duty, throw off the sharp moral spur from my achin’ feet, curl in my lofty principle tone, and assume again the gentle and almost affectionate axents of Samantha.
And another reason why I thought I would be kinder easy with the old Deacon and not say anything to git him mad, was my determination to mollyfy him about Molly—and a plan I had in my head growin’ bigger and stronger every minute—to _marry that girl to Tom Pitkins, myself, before I left that house_.
The hired girl had told me—I went out to wash my hands to the sink and I happened to ask her in a polite way if she was goin’ to see the Sentinal, and she said she was, that the old Deacon had told her that day he was goin’ to be married in two weeks to Miss Horn, and shouldn’t want her no longer—and if he was a goin’ to marry that Horn what good was Molly a goin’ to do there, only in a martyr way. Some gentle souls seem to be born martyrs, not to principles and idees, but ready to be offered up on a Horn or anything; ready to be pricked and scattered over with snuff in their pinnin’ blankets, and grow up ready to sacrifice themselves to any idol that calls on ’em to—crumple right down and be sot fire to—such was Molly. And it is for some strong hearted friend to snatch ’em away from the fagots and the kindlin’ wood,—such a friend is Samantha. Some see happiness right in front of ’em, and are too weak to grasp holt of it; such need the help of a hand like hers.
I lay awake the biggest heft of that night, a thinkin’ in deep thought, and a layin’ on plans. And finally I guess about three o’clock, I spoke out and says I: