Part 22 (1/2)

So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room, kinder round, and red colored, with lots of elegant pictures and lookin'-gla.s.ses and books.

The President sot before a table covered with books and papers: and, good land! he no need to have been afraid and hung back; he was dressed up slick-slick enough for meetin', or a parin'-bee, or any thing. He had on a sort of a gray suit, and a rose-bud in his b.u.t.ton-hole.

He was a good-lookin' man, though he had a middlin' tired look in his kinder brown eyes as he looked up.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SAMANTHA MEETING THE PRESIDENT.]

I had calculated to act n.o.ble on that occasion, as I appeared before him who stood in the large, lofty shoes of the revered G. W., and sot in the chair of the (nearly) angel Garfield. I had thought that likely as not, entirely unbeknown to me, I should soar right off into a eloquent oration. For I honored him as a President. I felt like neighborin' with him on account of his name-Allen! (That name I took at the alter of Jonesville, and pure love.)

But how little can we calculate on future contingencies, or what we shall do when we get there! As I stood before him, I only said what I had said before on a similar occasion, these simple words, that yet mean so much, so much,-

”Allen, I have come!”

He, too, was overcome by his feelin's: I see he wuz. His face looked fairly solemn; but, as he is a perfect gentleman, he controlled himself, and said quietly these words, that, too, have a deep import,-

”I see you have.”

He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady. And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip holt of the same h.e.l.lum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm when I think ont), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.

I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent chair, adjusted my green veil in long, graceful folds,-I hain't vain, but I like to look well,-and then I at once told him of my errents. I told him-

”I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,-one for myself, and two for Dorlesky Burpy.”

He bowed, but didn't say nothin': he looked tired. Josiah always looks tired in the mornin' when he has got his milkin' and barn-ch.o.r.es done, so it didn't surprise me. And havin' calculated to tackle him on my own errent first, consequently I tackled him.

I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.

And he said, ”he had heard of it.”

And I says, ”I s'pose so. I s'pose such things will spread, bein' a sort of a rarity. I'd heard that it had got out, way beyend Loontown, and all round.”

”Yes,” he said, ”it was spoke of a good deal.”

”Wall,” says I, ”the cast-iron love and devotion I feel for that man don't show off the brightest in hours of joy and peace. It towers up strongest in dangers and troubles.” And then I went on to tell him how Josiah wanted to come there as senator, and what a dangerous place I had always heard Was.h.i.+ngton wuz, and how I had felt it was impossible for me to lay down on my goose-feather pillow at home, in peace and safety, while my pardner was a grapplin' with dangers of which I did not know the exact size and heft. And so I had made up my mind to come ahead of him, as a forerunner on a tower, to see jest what the dangers wuz, and see if I dast trust my companion there. ”And now,” says I, ”I want you to tell me candid,” says I. ”Your settin' in George Was.h.i.+ngton's high chair makes me look up to you. It is a sightly place; you can see fur: your name bein' Allen makes me feel sort o' confidential and good towards you, and I want you to talk real honest and candid with me.” Says I solemnly, ”I ask you, Allen, not as a politician, but as a human bein', would you dast to let Josiah come?”

Says he, ”The danger to the man and the nation depends a good deal on what sort of a man it is that comes.” Then was a tryin' time for me. I would not lie, neither would I brook one word against my companion, even from myself. So I says,-

”He is a man that has traits and qualities, and sights of 'em.”

But thinkin' that I must do so, if I got true information of dangers, I went on, and told of Josiah's political aims, which I considered dangerous to himself and the nation. And I told him of The Plan, and my dark forebodin's about it.

The President didn't act surprised a mite. And finally he told me, what I had always mistrusted, but never knew, that Josiah had wrote to him all his political views and aspirations, and offered his help to the Government. And says he, ”I think I know all about the man.”

”Then,” says I, ”you see he is a good deal like other men.”

And he said, sort o' dreamily, ”that he was.”

And then agin silence rained. He was a thinkin', I knew, on all the deep dangers that hedged in Josiah Allen and America if he come. And a musin' on all the probable dangers of the Plan. And a thinkin' it over how to do jest right in the matter,-right by Josiah, right by the nation, right by me.

Finally the suspense of the moment wore onto me too deep to bear, and I says in almost harrowin' tones of anxiety and suspense,-