I didn’t tell him the heft or the size of my emotions as I mentally tackled the job he proposed to me—there wuzn’t no use on’t. I only sez, as I looked up at him over my specs—
“Josiah, We will write the book.”
[Illustration: Drop Capital]
Christopher Columbus has always been a object of extreme interest and admiration to me ever sence I first read about him in my old Olney’s Gography, up to the time when I hearn he wuz a-goin’ to be celebrated in Chicago.
I always looked up to Christopher, I always admired him, and in a modest and meetin’-house sense, I will say boldly and with no fear of Josiah before my eyes that I loved him.
Havin’ such feelin’s for Christopher Columbus, as I had, and havin’ such feelin’s for New Discoverers, do you spoze I wuz a-goin’ to have a celebration gin for him, and also for us as bein’ discovered by him, without attendin’ to it?
No, indeed! I made calculations ahead from the very first minute it wuz spoke on, to attend to it.
And feelin’ as I did—all wrought up on the subject of Christopher Columbus—it wuz a coincerdence singular enough to skair anybody almost to death—to think that right on the very day Christopher discovered America, and us (only 400 years later), and on the very day that I commenced the fine shirt that Josiah wuz a-goin’ to wear to Chicago to celebrate him in—
That very Friday, if you’ll believe me, Christopher Columbus walked right into our kitchen at Jonesville—and discovered me.
[Illustration: If you’ll believe me, Christopher Columbus Allen walked right into our kitchen—and discovered me.]
Yes, Christopher Columbus Allen, a relative I never had seen, come to Jonesville and our house on his way to the World’s Fair.
Jest to think on’t—Christopher Columbus Allen, who had passed his hull life up in Maine, and then descended down onto us at such a time as this, when all the relations in Jonesville wuz jest riz up about the doin’s of that great namesake of hisen—And the gussets wuz even then a-bein’ cut out and sewed on to the shirt that wuz a-goin’ to encompass Josiah Allen about as he went to Chicago to celebrate him—
That then, on that Friday, P.M., about the time of day that the Injuns wuz a-kneelin’ to the first Christopher, to think that Josiah Allen should walk in the new Columbus into our kitchen—why, I don’t spoze a more singular and coincidin’ circumstance ever happened before durin’ the hull course of time.
The only incident that mellered it down any and made it a little less miracalous wuz the fact that he never had been called by his full name.
He always has been, is now, and I spoze always will be called Krit—Krit Allen.
But still it wuz—in spite of this mellerin’ and amelioratin’ circumstance—strikin’ and skairful enough to fill me with or.