| | 1 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Biddy Woodhull, or, The pretty haymaker  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | There was a rude but pleasant farm-house
situated on the green banks of one of the
pleasant inlets that go meandering from the
Sound far into the verdant bosom of West-chester
County. It was one story high, with
a broad, steep, moss-covered roof, over which
an old oak spreads its wide branches, shielding
it the whole day from the summer sun.
An old `stoope' protected the door, and its
rude columns were thickly clad with the entwiaing
honey-suckle. Each end of the old
black farm-house was also nearly covered,
save where openings had been cut for the
windows, with woodbine and other creeping
plants. There was a neat vegetable garden
at one end of the dwelling and a small orchard
at the other, with the thatched roof of a
long, low barn, seen in the distance. Before
the door was a sort of lawn, on which the
sheep, geese, turkies, and an old domestic
cow, fed all day. This lawn was between the
house and the pleasant creek, where stood a
gate sheltered by a sycamore tree, through
which the cattle were driven to water. All
around was a scene of pleasant vale and wood-land,
with elms and oaks bending low over
the clear deep stream. On the opposite side
were seen several farm-houses with shady
walks along the banks between them, and a
little ways below, on an eminence, was visible
the white columns of a handsome country-seat,
the summer residence of a wealthy New
York merchant, who spent his winters only
in the city, which was twenty miles distant. What a demnition time you are staying out
South. What you can find to keep you there
this dem hot weather one hour after your
aunt's business is done for, unless some pretty
pearl, I'm dem'd if I can tell! Every thing
goes on just as ever. I had a glorious drive
last Friday on the avenue with Bob-tailed
Brown, harnessed single in my green buggy.
Tom Weston had a new team out, a dem'd
handsome thing altogether, and came behind
me like a streak of lightning. But I touched
Bob and left Tom half a mile in the rear as I
drew rein at the Harlem tavern. Dem'd good
that, wasn't it! I run over a sow and a litter
of nine pigs. Did'nt the young 'uns scamper
a few. I took off a goose's neck with my
off wheel as neat as you could cut it with a
knife. Tom swore Bob was the best bit o'
horse flesh in New York. Saw a pretty gearl
on the side-walk—looked like a rural—but I
was too anxious to beat Tom Weston's mare
to stop and ask her where she lived. Sunday
went over to Hoboken and saw lots o'
second quality class beauties, but couldn't do
any thing in my way, as they always have
some of those chaps with a bob coat, round
slick hat with a narrow crape round it, their
hair plaited down on each cheek, aad their
bosoms open, and cuffs and shirt-wristbands
turned back as if they were ready at any moment
for a fight. I can't endure such vulgar
people! though I don't mind a set-to, for I
have the true science you know, Ned. Havn't
been out of town yet, but I believe I shall go
to Saratoga next month. Saratogo is getting
to be low now that every shop-keeper that
can command three dollars can go there.—
These steamboats and railroads are getting to
be great levellers, Ned. I think I must go
to the White Sulphurs, they are the most exclusive.
Low people can't afford to get there
I saw your uncle last week in Broadway. He
would have passed me without seeing me, but
I stopped to ask him the name of the farmer
on the farm next to his above on the creek
where the rural lives. He told me it was
Woodhull. If you don't come on soon I
shall go down there and get up a little flirtation
with her. I think she's too pretty to be
suffered to grow there unnoticed like a sweet
flower under a hedge. Well, I have no more
to write. By the by, my friend M—ks has
let his beard grow all over his chin and it
looks dem'd fine. I think I shall follow his
example. He is going to be confirmed at St.
Thomas'. Religion is a nice thing for sick
and old people, but it spoils life for your true
blood! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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