he 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.

Wall, on our way home I had an awful trial with Josiah Allen. Mebby what
he had seen that day had made him feel kind o' riz up, and want to act.

He and I wuz a-wendin' our way along the lagoon, when all of a sudden he
sez--

"Samantha, I want to go out sailin' in a gondola--I want to swing out
and be romantic," sez he.

Sez he, "I always wanted to be romantic, and I always wanted to be a
gondolier, but it never come handy before, and now I will! I _will_ be
romantic, and sail round with you in a gondola. I'd love to go by
moonlight, but sunlight is better than nothin'."

[Illustration: "I want to swing out and be romantic and sail round
with you in a gondola."]

I looked down pityin'ly on him as he stood a few steps below me on the
flight o' stairs a-leadin' down to the water's edge.

I leaned hard on my faithful old umbrell, for I had a touch of rumatiz
that day.

And sez I, "Romance, Josiah, should be looked at with the bright eyes of
youth, not through spectacles No. 12." Sez I, "The glowin' mist that
wrops her round fades away under the magnifyin' lights of them specs,
Josiah Allen."

He had took his hat off to cool his forward, and I sez further--

"Romance and bald heads don't go together worth a cent, and rumatiz and
azmy are perfect strangers to her. Romance locks arms with young souls,
Josiah Allen, and walks off with 'em."

"Oh, shaw!" sez Josiah, "we hain't so very old. Old Uncle Smedly would
call us young, and we be, compared to him."

"Wall," sez I, "through the purblind gaze of ninety winters we may look
younger, but bald heads and spectacles, Josiah Allen, tell their own
silent story. We are not young, Josiah Allen, and all our lyin' and
pretendin' won't make us so."

"Wall, dum it all! I never shall be any younger. You can't dispute
that."

"No," sez I; "I don't spoze you will, in this spear."

"Wall, I am bound to go out in a gondola, I am bound to be a gondolier
before I die. So y