[apologies both to the dearest Frances Whitcher and the dashing Samuel Clemens]
Hoo-oo! Melissy! Tarned if I won't be back afore this reachis ye, but I'm so spunk and spritely on this are refreshin' see, and poor Reverend husband's only jus' recovern' from his mal-de-merry. Lord a'Marcy! I hain't seen nobody turn'd so green in all my life! as Sister Magwire would say. Just like that curzed buzzom pin from you-know-hew. Me, I spent a hull time a nursin' and a chasin' and a dealin' with the worthliss help on this old wreck. Why, jest yestidday I heard one o' them impertinent saylors say "she could out-wrassle a shark!" My land o' goshen, 'tweren't for the sake o' my second love uv life I would've tromped right up to the cappen and gin him a right piece o' my mind.
My Lard! Such a hunk o' rock I never did see! Sister Magwire, you ain't never seed a mountain 'till you seen this are Gibbralter. Only never let Jeff off'n the boat, you'd never see him agin. Folks ashore are mighty loose I hear.
This is the River Jordan! My sakes, I wonder for them colered folks a singin' it all up. 'Taint so much as Millard's crick behind his pig sty. Husband says Jordan's the spewwitual significance though, an' whenever he sez such things it jest sends a thrill right threw me. Still, what a bad-lands! Land o' milk and honey my right hip-bone! That been sore since I had ye, Melissy! Not that I don' luv ye annyhows, but sakes! that wuz a trial.
Today we visited a musk. I guess that means the smell when you has to takes yer shoes off ter go inside. Glory a marcy though! They say ark o' tincture was lost, but here it is in all its glory. Never 'twould do for meetin'-house of course.
Every day I larn somethin' new. Jeff would appreciate this un, him bein' into Latin and all. The Romans, they dint know to dig a proper canal. They had to raise it up on stilts and call it an akkyduck. I don't know if any duck would go fer it. If'n you're the kind to go huntin' in ernest, you'd raise a proper blind-eye. Jest jokin', that's why I thought Jeff would like it, the scamp. Seerusly, these wuz canals in them days, woodcha beleeve it?
What's all the hoo-doo about Bethlemen I'd like to know. I was 'spectin' to see the infant Lord's manger up-side a stable, and Glory Heathen a Risin! There's this are stun-and-glass monstrosity like them figgers of the Vattican, all perpulated with old men with long beards dressed in black jest like I was when the poor Deacon passed away. And the incenst'! Whoo-ee! My poor beloved parson turned green agin, and I wuz a sneezin like the day would never end. Never could figger out how some folks could take snuff like that.
Dipp't my hand in the Dread See, and I don't knows as if I could ever warsh it off again. By Josher's Trumpet! I see folks goin' right into it an' floatin' up top, couldent drown iffen they wanted. Speakin' of Josher, this are Jericho ain't nothin' but a pile o' dirt hardly bigger'n an aker or tew. Law's sake I kint figger what people sees in it.
Wee-ee-ll, back on the way hum agin, an' husband eat sumthin' don't agree, and he's in bed as I write this. Never knew a man so delikit, I guess them big brains o' his seep every thin' else out. But I always luved him for his brains. Not much else there to speak of, as I sees. I rilly shouldn't say this, Sister, but you always had the most strappin' feller, and I get the runts o' the litter, as far as their buddies go, but yew can't shake a finger at quality. That's what I always go fer.
May 24, 2020