Part 25 (1/2)

”I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent.”

”Who is the one?” says I.

”Senator Logan,” says he.

Says I, ”I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get back; for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over Was.h.i.+ngton, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub is trusty: I'll send him.” And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort of a n.o.ble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen in 'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further.

But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves.

But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman in the room,-

”This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for you.”

”Wall,” says I, ”I would be glad to get it done, without goin' any further. It would tickle Dorlesky most to death, and lots and lots of other wimmen.”

Mr. Blaine spoke to the gentleman; and he come forward, and Mr. Blaine introduced us. But I didn't ketch his name; because, jest as Mr. Blaine spoke it, my umberell fell, and the gentleman sprung forward to pick it up; and then he shook hands with me: and Mr. Blaine said good-bye to me, and started off.

I felt willin' and glad to have this senator do Dorlesky's errents, but I didn't like his looks from the very first minute I sot my eyes on him.

My land! talk about Dorlesky Burpy bein' disagreable-he wus as disagreable as she is, any day. He was kinder tall, and looked out of his eyes, and wore a vest: I don't know as I can describe him any more close than that. He was some bald-headed, and he kinder smiled once in a while: I persume he will be known by this description. It is plain, anyway, almost lucid.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. BLAINE INTRODUCING THE SENATOR.]

But his baldness didn't look to me like Josiah Allen's baldness; and he didn't have a mite of that smart, straight-forward way of Blaine, or the perfect courtesy and kindness of Allen Arthur. No. I sort o' despised him from the first minute.

Wall, he was dretful polite: good land! politeness is no name for his mean. Truly, as Josiah Allen says, I don't like to see anybody too good.

He drawed a chair up, for me and for himself, and asked me,-

”If he should have the inexpressible honor and the delightful joy of aiding me in any way: if so, command him to do it,” or words to that effect. I can't put down his smiles, and genteel looks, and don't want to if I could.

But tacklin' hard jobs as I always tackle 'em, I sot right down calmly in front of him, with my umberell acrost my lap, and told him over all of Dorlesky's errents. And how I had brought 'em from Jonesville on my tower. I told over all of her sufferin's, from the Ring, and from not havin' her rights; and all her sister Susan Clapsaddle's sufferin's; and all her aunt Eunice's and Patty's, and Drusilla's and Abagail's, sufferin's. I did her errent up honorable and square, as I would love to have a errent done for me. I told him all the particulers; and as I finished, I said firmly,-

”Now, can you do Dorlesky's errents? and will you?”

He leaned forward with that deceitful and sort of disagreable smile of hisen, and took up one corner of my mantilly. It wus cut tab fas.h.i.+on; and he took up the tab, and says he, in a low, insinuatin' voice, and lookin' close at the edge of the tab,-

”Am I mistaken, or is this pipein'? or can it be Kensington tattin'?”

I jest drawed the tab back coldly, and never dained a reply.

Again he says, in a tone of amiable anxiety,-

”Have I not heard a rumor that bangs were going out of style? I see you do not wear your lovely hair bang-like, or a pompidorus! Ah! wimmen are lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of them.” And he sithed. ”You are very beautiful.” And he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful, love-sick sithe.

I sot demute as the Sfinx, and a chippin'-bird a tappin' his wing against her stunny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk or his sithes. But he kep' on, puttin' on a kind of a sad, injured look, as if my coldness wus ondoin' of him,-

”My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you a leaning toward natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the traits and habits of our American wad?”

”What?” says I. For truly, a woman's curiosity, however paralized by just indignation, can stand only jest so much strain. ”The what?”