The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 1, November, 1857 - A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics by Various
page 59 of 282 (20%)
page 59 of 282 (20%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"Well, the Lord don't deliver nobody, without they wriggle for themselves
pretty consider'ble well fust. This a'n't the newest news to me; I've been expectin' on't a long spell, an' I've talked consider'ble with Westbury folks about it; and there a'n't nobody much, round about here, but what'll stand out agin the Britishers, exceptin' Tucker's folks; they're desp'rit for Church an' King; they tell as ef the Lord gin the king a special license to set up in a big chair an' rewl creation; an' they think it's perticular sin to speak as though he could go 'skew anyhow. Now I believe the Lord lets folks find out what He does, out o' Scriptur; and I han't found nothin' yet to tell about kings bein' better than their neighbours, and it don't look as ef this king was so clever as common. I s'pose you ha'n't heerd what our Colony Congress is a-doin', hev ye, Snapps?" "Well, no, I ha'n't. They was a-layin' to, last I heerd, so's to settle their course, I 'xpect they've heaved up an' let go by this, but I han't seen no signals." "Dear me!" interrupted Sally, "a real war coming! and I a'n't any thing but a woman!" Her cheeks and eyes glowed with fervent feeling, as she said this; and the old sailor, turning round, surveyed her with a grin of honest admiration. "Well said, gal! but you're out o' your reckonin', ef you think women a'n't nothin' in war-time. I tell _yew_, them is the craft that sails afore the wind, and does the signallin' to all the fleet. When gals is full-rigged an' tonguey, they're reg'lar press-gangs to twist young fellers round, an' make 'em sail under the right colors. Stick to the ship, Miss Sally; give a heave at the windlass now'n then, an' don't let nary one o' them fellers that comes a buzzin' round you the hull time turn his back on Yankee |
|