with which folks will turn right round and
revolve, I will tell how Josiah seemin'ly forgot mawlstroms, bad air,
rumatiz, ages, meetin' housen, principles, etc., and turned right
round on the pivot of his inclination. A day or two after he heard
down in the office about the dancin' parties they had in the parlor
anon or oftener, and he come up into our room enthused with the idee
and wanted to branch out and go that night, and I sez:

"What about mawlstroms and gayety, Josiah Allen?"

"Oh," he sez, "I shall be there to protect you, Samantha, no mawlstrom
can draw you in and destroy you, whilst I have a drop of blood left in
my veins! I'll protect you here, and I'd protect you at Coney Island,"
sez he--(that idee never left his mind I believe).

"What about the bad air?" sez I.

"Oh the winder will probable be open, and you can take your turkey
feather fan with you." And then I dropped my half jocular tone and sez
in deadly earnest:

"Be I leanin' on a Methodist pillow or be I not? Have I a deacon by my
side or haven't I?"

But Josiah seemed calm and even gay sperited under my two reproachful
orbs that poured their search lights into his very soul, and he sez:

"From all I hear it hain't a wicked dance at all, but jest a pretty
dancin' party down in the parlor, jined in by men and wimmen and their
children and mebby their grand-children, and it is always so sweet,"
sez he, "to see a man and his grand-children dancin' together. Oh, if
Delight wuz only here!" sez he.

I riz up and sez in almost heart breakin' axents:

"Josiah Allen, be you a thinkin' of dancin' yourself?"

"No," sez he, "no, Samantha, I jest want to look on a spell, that's
all."

But there wuz a look in his eyes that I hated to see, for I had seen
it many times in the past, and it had always foreboded trials to me
and humiliation to my pardner. How queer human critters be! what
strange and mysterious tacts they will git on and how they will foller
up them tacts and fads of theirn. But I d'no as human critters are any
worse about follerin' up their tacts and fads and follerin' 'em blind,
than old Mom Nater is. Now who hain't noticed her queer moods and how
prolonged they be, and how sudden and onexpected they will come onto
her? When she takes it into her head to have a pleasant spell of
weather, how she'll foller it up, clear skies, pleasant days and
nights for weeks and weeks. And if she takes it into her head to have
it rain, how she will