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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 410 pages of information about Samantha at the World's Fair.

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.”

SAMANTHA AT THE WORLD’S FAIR.

CHAPTER I.

[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.

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