MR. WARRICK IN LUCK !
‘Pintment of Miss BARBRY’S weddin’ day ! and “ Invite” of the Editor.
“ I’d orfen heerd it said ob late,
Dat Norf Carolina was de State,
Whar hansome boys am bound to shine,
Like Dandy Jim of de Caroline !” Etc.
Under the caption of “Mr. Warrick in Distress,” we published on the
3d Feb. last, a long letter from that gentleman in which he recounted his first
overtures for the hand of Miss BARBRY BASS, a North Carolina belle. It will
be recollected that his suit was highly successful, so far as the young lady
herself was concerned ; but he came near “ running the thing in the ground”
by kissing her so loud as to awaken her mother ! That our readers may better
understand the present letter, we quote the circumstance alluded to :--
“ Barbry, she trimbl’d and look’d so pretty, and sed nothin--I couldn’t help kissin her, and seem she did’nt say “ quit,” I kissed her nigh on seven or eight times, and as old Miss Bass had gone to bed, and Kurnel Hard was a snorin away, I want perticular, and I spose I kissed her too loud, for just as I kissed her the last time, out hollered old Miss Bass --
“ My lord !--Barbry, old Troup is in the milk-pan !--I heerd him smakin his lips a lickin of the milk. Git out, you old varmint !--git out !” Seein how the gander hopped, I jumped up, and hollered “ Git out, Troup, you old raskel !” and opened the door to make bleeve I let him out. As for Barbry, she laffed till she was nigh a bustin a holdin in, and run out ; and I heerd Kurnel Hardy’s bed a shek’n like he had my three day agur. Well, I took tother bed, after havin to pull my britches over my shuse, for I couldn’t unbutten my straps.
Next mornin I got up airly, and Siah axed me to stay to breakfast, but I had to feed an old cow at the free pastur, and left. Jist as I got to the bars, I meets old Miss Bass, and ses she, “ Mr. Warrick, next time you see a dog lickin up milk, don’t let him do it loud enuff to wake up evry body in the house--perticerlar when there’s a stranger bout.” And Barbry sent me word that she’s so shamed that she never kin look me in the face agin, and never to come no more.”
Upon the above statement of facts Mr. Warrick solicited our advice. We are delighted to hear, that at length the whole matter is made right and that he is indeed in luck, as the following letter will abundantly prove :--
Piney Bottom, in Old North State, March 21, this 1844.
Mr. Porter--I rode three mile evry Satterdy to git a letter outer the Post Offis, spectin as how you had writ me a anser ; but I spose what with Pineter dogs, and hosses and Kricket, and Boxin, and Texas, Trebla, and three Fannys, and Acorns, and Punch in perticlar, you hain’t had no time. I’m glad your Speerit is revivin’ ; so is mine, and, as the boy sed to his mammy, I hopes to be better acquainted with you.
Well, I got so sick in my speerits and droopy like that I thot I should ev died stone ded, not seein of Barbry for three weeks. So one evenin I went down, spectin as how old Miss Bass had gone to Sociashun,--for she’s mity religus and grones shockin at prayers--to hear two prechers from the Sanwitch Ilans where they tells me the peple all goes naked--which is comikil, as factry homespun is cheap and could afford to kiver themselves at nine cent a yard. When I went in there sot old Miss BASS and old Miss COLLIS a smokin and chattin amazin. I do think old Miss Collis beats all natur at smokin.
Old Miss Collis had on her Sundy frock and had it draw’d up over her kneas to keep from skorchin, and her pettykoats rased tolerable high as she sot over the fire to be more comfortabler like, but when she seed me she drop’d them down, and arter howdging and civerlizin each other I sot down, but being sorter flusticated like, thinkin of that skrape, last time I was here, about old Troup lickin of the milk, and my briches that is open before comin unbotten’d and showin the eend of my sheert, I didn’t notis perticlar where I sot. So I sot down in a cheer where Barbry had throw’d down her work (when she seed me comin at the bars and run)--and her nedle stuck shockin in my--into me, and made me jump up oncommon and hollered !
I thought old Miss Collis woulder split wide open a laffin, and old Miss Bass like to a busted, and axed my perding for laffin, and I had to give in, but it was laffin on tother side and had to rub the place.
Arter a while we got done--but it looked like I had bad luck, for in sittin down agin I lik’d to have sot on Barbry’s Tom Cat which if I had I shoulder bin like Kurnel Zip Coon’s wife who jump’d into a holler log to mash two young panters to deth and they scrached her so bad she couldn’t set down for two munse ! I seed this ere in a Almynack. Old Miss Bass seein I was bothered axed me to have a dram, but I thank’d her, no.
Ses she, “ Mr. Warrick, you ain’t one of the Temprite Siety.”
Ses I, “ No, but I hain’t got no casion, at presence !”
Ses she, “ You is welcome.”
Well, we chatted on some time bout prechin, and mumps, and the measly oitment, and Tyler gripes, and Miss Collis she broke out and sed--
“ I never did hear the beat of them Tyler gripes ! I have hearn talk of all sorter gripes and dry gripes, and always thought that the gripes was in the stomic, before now, but bless your soul, Miss Bass, this here gripes is in the hed ! I told my old man that no good would come of ‘lectin Tyler, but poor old creeter, he’s sorter hard-headed, and got childish, and would do it. O ! me ! well, we’re all got to come to it and leve this world ! Bless the Lord ! I hope I’m ready !
And then she struck her hed and spit out her terbaccer juce as slick as a Injun.
“ That’s a fact,” ses old Miss Bass, “ you’re right Miss Collis ; old men gits uncommon stubborn ; a hard, mity hard time, I had with my old man. But he’s ded and gone ! I hope he’s happy !” and they both groaned and shet their eyes and pucked up their mouths. Ses she--“ He got mity rumitys and troubled me powerful, and the old creetur tuck astonishin of Dokter’s stuff, and aleckcampane and rose of sublimit--but he went at last ! The Lord’s will be done !-- Skat ! you stinkin hussy, and come out of that kibbard !”--ses she to the cat--“ I do think cats is abominable, and that tom-cat of Barbry’s is the ‘scheviousest cat I ever did see !”
Ses Miss Collis, “ Cats is a pest, but a body cant do well without em ; the mice would take the house bodily,” ses she ; “ Miss Bass, they tells me that DICEY LOOMIS is a gwying to be married--her peple was in town last week and bort a power of things and artyfishals, and lofe sugar, and ribbuns, and cheese, and sich like !”
“ Why,” ses Miss Bass, “ you don’t tell me so ! Did I ever hear the beat o’ that ! Miss Collis are it a fact ?”
“ Yes,” ses Miss Collis, “ it’s the natral truth, for brother Bounds tell’d it to me at last class meetin.”
Ses Miss Bass, hollerin to Barbry in tother room, “ Barbry do you hear that Dicey Loomis is gwying to git married ? Well ! well ! It beats me ! bless the Lord ! I wonder who she’s gwying to get married to, Miss Collis ?”
Ses Miss Collis, “ Now, child, yure too hard for me ; but they do say its to that Taler from Town. Well, he’s a putty man, and had on such a nice dress--‘cept he’s most too much nock nead, and sich eyes and sich whiskers, and now don’t he play the fiddle ?”
Ses Miss Bass--“ Well, Dicey is a middlin peart gal, but for my part I don’t see what the taler seed in her.”
“ Nor I nuther,” ses Miss Collis, “ but she’s gwine to do well. I couldn’t a sed no if he’d a axed for our Polly.”
Then in comes BARBRY, and we how-dy’d and both turned sorter red in the face, and I trimbl’d tolerable and felt agurry. Well, arter we talked a spell, all of us, Miss Bass got up and ses she, “ Miss Collis I want to show you a nice passel of chickins ; our old speckled hen come off with eleven, yisterdy, as nice as ever you did see.”
Then old Miss Collis riz up and puttin her hands on her hips and stratened like, and ses, right quick--“ Laws a massy ! my poor back ! Drat the rumatics ! Its powerful bad ; its gwyne to rain, I know !--oh, me ! me !”--and they both went out. Then Barbry look’d at me so comikil and sed, “ Billy, I raly shall die thinkin of you and old Troup !” and she throw’d herself back and laffed and laffed ; and she look’d so putty and so happy ses I to myself, “ Billy Warrick, you must marry that gal and no mistake, or brake a trace !” and I swore to it.
Well, we then talk’d agreeable like, and sorter saft, and both of us war so glad to see one another--till old Miss Bass and Miss Collis come back ; and bimeby Miss Collises youngest son come for her, and I helped her at the bars to get up behin her son and ses she “ Good bye, Billy ! Good luck to you ! I know’d your daddy and mammy afore you was born on yerth, and I was the fust one after your granny that had you in the arms--me and Miss Bass talk’d it over ! you’ll git a smart, peart, likely gal ! So good bye, Billy !”
Ses I “ Good bye, Miss Bass,” and ses I, “ Gooly, take good kear of your mammy, my son !” You see I thot I’d be perlite.
Well, when I went back there sot old Miss Bass, and ses she “ Billy ! Miss Collis and me is a bin talkin over you and Barbry, and seein you are a good karickter and smart, and well to do in the world, and a poor orphin boy, I shant say no ! Take her, Billy, and be good to her, and God bless you, my son, for I’m all the mammy you’ve got !” so she kiss’d me, and ses she, “ now kiss Barbry. We’ve talk’d it over, and leave us now for a spell, for it’s hard to give up my child !” So I kiss’d Barbry and left.
The way I rode home was oncommon peart, and my old mare pranced and was like the man in skriptur who “ waxed fat and kick’d,” and I hurried home to tell old Venus, and to put up three shotes and some turkies to fatten for the innfare. Mr. PORTER its to be the 3d Wensday in next month, and Barbry sends you a ticket--and if it’s a boy I shall name it arter you--hopin you will put it in your paper--that is, the weddin.
So wishin you a heap of subskribers, I remane in good helth and speerits at presence, Your friend, WM. WARRICK.
Source: New York Spirit of the Times 14.5 (30 March 1844): 49. University of Virginia Alderman Library.
Erin Bartels prepared this typescript.
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