The poor girl didn’t know a word she was sayin’ but she kep’ a mutterin’ over somethin’ to herself in a unknown tongue. There wasn’t no words to it. But poor thing, she didn’t sense it. Some of the time she would be a smilin’ to herself, and go on a mutterin’ kinder low, and then her worse fits seemed to come on in spasms, and she would go to poundin’ the piano and yellin’. And I see by the way her hands went that she had got another infirmity too. I see she had got Mr. Vitus’es dance. It was a sad sight indeed.
As I see the poor thing set there with her dress most off of her, jest a hangin’ on her shoulders, right there before so many men, I thought to myself, what if was my Tirzah Ann there in that condition. But one thing I know as long as Josiah Allen’s wife lived, she wouldn’t go a wanderin’ round half naked, to be a laughin’ stock to the community. I took it so right to myself, I kep’ a thinkin’ so, what if it was our Tirzah Ann, that there wasn’t hardly a dry eye in my head. And I turned to a bystanter, standin’ by my side, and says I to him in a voice almost choked down with emotion,
“Has the poor thing been so long? Can’t she get any help?”
Jest that minute she begun to screech and pound louder and more harrowin’ than ever, and I says in still more sorrowful accents, with my spectacles bent pityin’ly on her,
“It seems to come on by spasms, don’t it?”
She kinder held up in her screechin’ then, and went at her mutterin’ agin in that unknown tongue, and he heard me, and says he,
That madded me. I give that man a piece of my mind. I told him plainly that it “was bad enough to have such infirmities without bein’ made a public circus of. And I didn’t have no opinion of anybody that enjoyed such a scene and made fun of such poor critters.”
He looked real pert, and said somethin’ about my “not havin’ a ear for music.”
That madded me agin. And says I, “Young man, tell me that I hain’t got any ears agin if you dare!” and I ontied my bonnet strings, and lifted up the corner of my head dress. Says I, “What do you call that? If that hain’t a ear, what is it? And as for music, I guess I know what music is, as well as anybody in this village.” Says I, “you ought to hear Tirzah Ann sing jest between daylight and dark, if you want to hear music.” Says I, “her organ is a good soundin’ one everybody says. It ought to be, for we turned off a good two year old colt, and one of our best cows for it. And when she pulls out the tremblin’ stopple in front of it, and plays psalm tunes Sunday nights jest before sundown, with the shadders of the mornin’ glory vines a tremblin’ all over her, as she sings old Corinth, and Hebron, I have seen Josiah look at her and listen to her till he had to pull out his red bandanna handkerchief and wipe his eyes.”