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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

' An' ye sit by the fire a while,
rockin' the twins, an' by and by yer wife comes back. An' ye say,
'Ma, why don't ye stay t' home?' 'Wal,' says she, 'it is so
splendid, and there's so much goin' on.' An' Mary, she begins t'
talk as if she'd bit her tongue, an' step stylish, an' hold up her
dress like that, jest as though she was steppin' over a hot
griddle. Purty soon it's dizzle-dazzle an' flippity-floppity an'
splendiferous and sewperb, an' the first thing ye know ye ain't
knee-high to a grasshopper. Sam he comes back an' tells Ed all
about the latest devilment. You hear of it; then, mebbe, ye begin
to limber up an' think ye'll try it yerself. An' some morning
ye'll wake up an' find yer moral character has scooted. You
fellers that go t' meetin' here an' talk about resistin'
temptation--if you ever git t' goin' it down there in New York
City, temptation 'll have to resist you. My friends, ye don't want
to make it too easy fer everybody to go somewhere else. If ye do,
by an' by there won't be nobody left here but them that's too old
t' scoot er a few sickly young folks who don't care fer the sinful
attractions o' this world."
Who shall say that old Colonel Barclay had not the tongue of a
prophet?
"An' how about the cost?" he added in conclusion, "Fellow-citizens,
ye'll have to pay five cents a mile fer yer scootin', an' a tax,--a
tax, fellow-citizens, to help pay the cost o' the railroad.


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