Sez she, “My dress is fur more comfortable than the ordinary dress of females.”

Sez I reasonably, “Short dresses are a boon and a blessin’, but in my opinion they can be short enough for comfort and still not infringe on man’s chosen raiment.  And as for pantaloons, men are welcome to ’em so fur as I’m concerned, and also tall hats, they hain’t nothin’ I hanker for either on ’em.”

Sez she, “We have a right to wear any clothes we see fit.”

Sez I, “We have a right to plow green sword, shingle a steep barn ruff, or break a yoke of steers.  But the question is, will it pay in comfort or economy to do this?  As for me, I’d ruther be in the house in a comfortable dress and clean apron, cookin’ a good dinner for Josiah, or settin’ down knittin’ his socks whilst he duz the harder work he is by nater and education fitted for.  But everybody to their own mind.  And so fur as I am concerned I’d ruther attract attention by doin’ sunthin’ worth while, sunthin’ really noble and good, than by tyin’ a red rag round my fore-top.  But as I say, folks are different, and I am fur from sayin’ that my way is the only right way.”

Mary kinder waived off some of my idees and went on and spoke of her work on the battlefield and how necessary her dress wuz in such a place.

And I sez, “Mary, I’ve always honored you for your noble work there.  But I believe I could lift up the head of a dyin’ man easier in a loose gingham dress and straw bunnet tied on, than I could in your tight pantaloons and high hat, but howsumever the main thing is that the man is lifted, and he doubtless wouldn’t quarrel about the costoom of his preserver.  The main thing in this world, Mary, is the work we do, the liftin’, or tryin’ to lift; the day’s work we do in the harvest field of Endeavor.  And I spoze a few trousers more or less hain’t goin’ to count when we carry in our sheaves.  Though I must say to the last, Mary Walker, I could carry ’em easier in my dress than I could in yourn.”

[Illustration]

In the heat of our good-natered conversation Mary had slipped her hand through my arm and neither of us noticed it, so wropped up wuz we in the topics under discussion, when I hearn Blandina’s voice behind me sayin’, “Oh, what a noble lookin’ man Aunt Samantha is talkin’ to and how affectionate actin’; how sweet it will be to meet him.”  And then I hearn a sharp raspin’ voice clost to me sayin’: 

“Sir, I will thank you to onhand my wife!”

I wouldn’t hardly have knowed my pardner’s voice, such burnin’ anger showed in it and wuz depictered on his liniment as I turned round and faced him.  And he went on: 

“Samantha, have I lived with you most a century to be deceived in you now?”

His turrible emotions had onhinged his reasonin’ faculties, we hain’t lived together so long as that, but I didn’t dane to argy, I only sez with calm dignity: 

“Miss Walker, this is my pardner, Josiah Allen.”