Episode 1

WHICH IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ

When Josiah read my dedication he said "it wuz a shame to dedicate a book that it had took most a hull bottle of ink to write, to a lot of creeters that he wouldn't have in the back door yard."But I explained it to him, that I didn't mean tramps with broken hats, variegated pantaloons, ventilated shirt-sleeves, and barefooted.But I meant tramps with diamond ear-rings, and cuff-buttons, and Saratoga trunks, and big accounts at their bankers.

And he said, "Oh, shaw!"

But I went on nobly, onmindful of that shaw, as female pardners have to be, if they accomplish all the talkin' they want to.

And sez I, "It duz seem sort o' pitiful, don't it, to think how sort o' homeless the Americans are a gettin'? How the posys that blow under the winders of Home are left to waste their sweet breaths amongst the weeds, while them that used to love 'em are a climbin' mountain tops after strange nosegays."The smoke that curled up from the chimbleys, a wreathin' its way up to the heavens -- all dead and gone.The bright light that shone out of the winder through the dark a tellin' everybody that there wuz a Home, and some one a waitin' for somebody -- all dark and lonesome.

Yes, the waiter and the waited for are all a rushin' round somewhere, on the cars, mebby, or a yot, a chasin' Pleasure, that like as not settled right down on the eves of the old house they left, and stayed there.

I wonder if they will find her there when they go back again.

Mebby they will, and then agin, mebby they won't.For Happiness haint one to set round and lame herself a waitin' for folks to make up their minds.

Sometimes she looks folks full in the face, sort o' solemn like and heart-searchin', and gives 'em a fair chance what they will chuse.And then if they chuse wrong, shee'll turn her back to 'em, for always.I've hearn of jest such cases.

But it duz seem sort o' solemn to think -- how the sweet restful felin's that clings like ivy round the old familier door steps --where old 4 fathers feet stopped, and stayed there, and baby feet touched and then went away -- I declare for't, it almost brings tears, to think how that sweet clingin' vine of affection, and domestic repose, and content -- how soon that vine gets tore up nowadays.

It is a sort of a runnin' vine anyway, and folks use it as sech, they run with it.Jest as it puts its tendrils out to cling round some fence post, or lilock bush, they pull it up, and start off with it.And then its roots get dry, and it is some time before it will begin to put out little shoots and clingin' leaves agin round some petickular mountain top, or bureau or human bein'.And then it is yanked up agin, poor little runnin' vine, and run with and so on -- and so on -- and so on.

Why sometimes it makes me fairly heart-sick to think on't.And Ifairly envy our old 4 fathers, who used to set down for several hundred years in one spot.They used to get real rested, it must be they did.

Jacob now, settin' right by that well of his'n for pretty nigh two hundred years.How much store he must have set by it during the last hundred years of 'em! How attached he must have been to it!

Good land! Where is there a well that one of our rich old American patriarks will set down by for two years, leavin' off the orts.There haint none, there haint no such a well.Our patriarks haint fond of well water, anyway.

And old Miss Abraham now, and Miss Isaac -- what stay to home wimmen they wuz, and equinomical!

What a good contented creeter Sarah Abraham wuz.How settled down, and stiddy, stayin' right to home for hundreds of years.

Not gettin' rampent for a wider spear, not a coaxin' old Mr.

Abraham nights to take her to summer resorts, and winter hants of fashion.

No, old Mr.Abraham went to bed, and went to sleep for all of her.

And when they did once in a hundred years, or so, make up their minds to move on a mile or so, how easy they traveled.Mr.

Abraham didn't have to lug off ten or twelve wagon loads of furniture to the Safe Deposit Company, and spend weeks and weeks a settlin' his bisness, in Western lands, and Northern mines, Southern railroads, and Eastern wildcat stocks, to get ready to go.And Miss Abraham didn't have to have a dozen dress-makers in the house for a month or two, and messenger boys, and dry goods clerks, and have to stand and be fitted for basks and polenays, and back drapery, and front drapery, and tea gowns, and dinner gowns, and drivin' gowns, and mornin' gowns, and evenin' gowns, and etectery, etcetery, etcetery.

No, all the preperations she had to make wuz to wrop her mantilly a little closter round her, and all Mr.Abraham had to do wuz to gird up his lions.That is what it sez.And I don't believe it would take much time to gird up a few lions, it don't seem to me as if it would.

And when these few simple preperations had been made, they jest histed up their tent and laid it acrost a camel, and moved on a mild or two, walkin' afoot.

Why jest imagine if Miss Abraham had to travel with eight or ten big Saratoga trunks, how could they have been got up onto that camel? It couldn't lave been done.The camel would have died, and old Mr.Abraham would also have expired a tryin' to lift 'em up.No, it was all for the best.

And jest think on't, for all of these simple, stay to home ways, they called themselves Pilgrims and Sojourners.Good land! What would they have thought nowadays to see folks make nothin' of settin' off for China, or Japan or Jerusalem before breakfast.

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