Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife. Marietta Holley

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      Published by Good Press, 2021

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664625236

Table of Contents

       CHAPTER I

       CHAPTER II

       CHAPTER III

       CHAPTER IV

       CHAPTER V

       CHAPTER VI

       CHAPTER VII

       CHAPTER VIII

       CHAPTER IX

       CHAPTER X

       CHAPTER XI

       CHAPTER XII

       CHAPTER XIII

       CHAPTER XIV

       CHAPTER XV

       CHAPTER XVI

       CHAPTER XVII

       CHAPTER XVIII

       CHAPTER XIX

       CHAPTER XX

       CHAPTER XXI

       CHAPTER XXII

       CHAPTER XXIII

       CHAPTER XXIV

       CHAPTER XXV

       CHAPTER XXVI

       CHAPTER XXVII

       CHAPTER XXVIII

       CHAPTER XXIX

       CHAPTER XXX

       CHAPTER XXXI

       CHAPTER XXXIII

       CHAPTER XXXIV

       CHAPTER XXXV

       CHAPTER XXXVI

CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

      Our son, Thomas Jefferson, and his wife, Maggie, have been wadin’ through a sea of trouble. He down with inflamatory rumatiz so a move or jar of any kind, a fly walkin’ over the bedclothes, would most drive him crazy; and she with nervious prostration, brought on I spoze by nussin’ her pardner and her youngest boy, Thomas Josiah (called Tommy), through the measles, that had left him that spindlin’ and weak-lunged that the doctor said the only thing that could tone up his system and heal his lungs and save his life would be a long sea voyage. He had got to be got away from the cold fall blasts of Jonesville to once. Oh! how I felt when I heard that ultimatum and realized his danger, for Tommy wuz one of my favorites. Grandparents ort not to have favorites, but I spoze they will as long as the world turns on its old axletrys.

      He looks as Thomas J. did when he wuz his age and I married his pa and took the child to my heart, and got his image printed there so it won’t never rub off through time or eternity. Tommy is like his pa and he hain’t like him; he has his pa’s old ways of truthfulness and honesty, and deep––why good land! there hain’t no tellin’ how deep that child is. He has got big gray-blue eyes, with long dark lashes that kinder veil his eyes when he’s thinkin’; his hair 10 is kinder dark, too, about the color his pa’s wuz, and waves and crinkles some, and in the crinkles it seems as if there wuz some gold wove into the brown. He has got a sweet mouth, and one that knows how to stay shet too; he hain’t much of a talker, only to himself; he’ll set and play and talk to himself for hours and hours, and though he’s affectionate, he’s a independent child; if he wants to know anything the worst kind he will set and wonder about it (he calls it wonner). He will say to himself, “I wonner what that means.” And sometimes he will talk to Carabi about it––that is a child of his imagination, a invisible playmate he has always had playin’ with him, talkin’ to him, and I spoze imaginin’ that Carabi replies. I have asked him sometimes, СКАЧАТЬ