An’ she’d blush scarlit, right in prayer,
  When her new meetin’-bunnet
Felt somehow thru’ its crown a pair
  O’ blue eyes sot upon it.

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some!
  She seemed to’ve gut a new soul,
For she felt sartin-sure he’d come,
  Down to her very shoe-sole.

She heered a foot, an’ knowed it tu,
  A-raspin’ on the scraper,—­
All ways to once, her feelins flew
  Like sparks in burnt-up paper.

He kin’ o’ l’itered on the mat,
  Some doubtfle o’ the sekle,
His heart kep’ goin’ pity-pat,
  But hern went pity Zekle.

An’ yit she gin her cheer a jerk
  Ez though she wished him furder,
An’ on her apples kep’ to work,
  Parin’ away like murder.

‘You want to see my Pa, I s’pose?’
  ’Wal ... no ...  I come dasignin’—­
‘To see my Ma?  She’s sprinklin’ clo’es
  Agin to-morrer’s i’nin’.’

To say why gals acts so or so,
  Or don’t, ‘ould be persumin’;
Mebby to mean yes an’ say no
  Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust,
  Then stood a spell on t’other,
An’ on which one he felt the wust
  He couldn’t ha’ told ye nuther.

Says he, ‘I’d better call agin:’ 
  Says she, ‘Think likely, Mister:’ 
Thet last word pricked him like a pin,
  An’ ...  Wal, he up an’ kist her.

When Ma bimeby upon ’em slips,
  Huldy sot pale ez ashes,
All kin’ o’ smily roun’ the lips
  An’ teary roun’ the lashes.

For she was jes’ the quiet kind
  Whose naturs never vary,
Like streams that keep a summer mind
  Snowhid in Jenooary.

The blood clost roun’ her heart felt glued
  Too tight for all expressin’,
Tell mother see how metters stood,
  An’ gin ’em both her blessin’.

Then her red come back like the tide
  Down to the Bay o’ Fundy,
An’ all I know is they was cried
  In meetin’ come nex’ Sunday.

THE BIGLOW PAPERS

SECOND SERIES

No.  I

BIRDOFREDUM SAWIN, ESQ.,
TO MR. HOSEA BIGLOW

LETTER FROM THE REVEREND HOMER WILBUR, M.A., ENCLOSING THE EPISTLE
AFORESAID

JAALAM, 15th Nov., 1861.

* * * * *

It is not from any idle wish to obtrude my humble person with undue prominence upon the publick view that I resume my pen upon the present occasion. Juniores ad labores.  But having been a main instrument in rescuing the talent of my young parishioner from being buried in the ground, by giving it such warrant with the world as could be derived from a name already widely known by several printed discourses (all of which I may be permitted without immodesty to state have been deemed worthy of preservation in the Library of Harvard College by my esteemed friend Mr. Sibley),