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Updated: June 2, 2025
There is a mighty menace in it, I can tell you, if they are angry. "Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said D'ri, as he sat, rifle on his knee, looking at his prisoners. "Never thought nobody c'u'd luk s' joemightyful cur'us. Does mek a man humly t' hev any trouble with them air willy-come-bobs." He meant wasps. I had had no opportunity for more than a word with the young ladies.
An, you're my little Willy boy who ust 'o he in my class. Well! well! W'y, Pa, ain't he growed tall! Growed handsome tew. I ust 'o think he was a drelful humly boy; but my sakes, that mustache-" "Wal, he give me a tumble scare last night. My land! scared me out of a year's growth," cackled the old man. This gave them all a chance to laugh and the air was cleared.
"It's worth a fortune, now ain't it?" "Is he going to marry the Rutledge girl?" was the query of Mrs. Brimstead. "I don't think so," Samson answered, a little surprised at her knowledge of the attachment. "He's as humly as Sam Hill and dresses rough and ain't real handy with the gals. Some fellers are kind o' fenced in with humliness and awkwardness."
She drew back her chair for a few paces, with a deep-drawn sigh, in which disappointment and surprise seemed strangely to mingle. "Well, I have he'rd a great deal about you, and I wanted to see you bad for a long time; but you are only a humly person like myself after all. Why I do think, if I had on my best gown and cap, I should look a great deal younger and better than you."
I got to find a posy that's handsomer inside than 't is outside, one that folks ain't took no notice of here, 'cause 'twas kind o' humly and queer to look at, not knowin' that inside 'twas as handsome as any posy on the airth. Seen any o' that kind?" says the man. Well, the shet-up posy was dreadful worked up. "Deary dear!" she says to herself, "now if they'd on'y finished me off inside!
Bewlah larfed, but I didn't mind her doin' on't, for she sez, sez she, real sort o' cunnin', "'Poor Hiram! they didn't use yeou waal. Yeou ought to hev tried some er the poor an' humly girls; they'd a been glad an' grateful fer such a sweetheart as yeou be.
"Yer ma wasn't so humly as me," she said cheerfully, "but she wan't no beauty either. None of the Temples was ever better lookin' than was necessary. We was workers. Yer pa wa'n't bad looking. You're humlier than either of 'em. Some ways ye take after yer grandma though she was counted pretty at one time. She was yaller and spindlin' like you, and you've got her eyes.
And all of a suddent he says, the man did, "Looks to me's if you was somethin' that kind yourself, ain't ye?" "Oh, no, no, no!" whispers the shet-up posy. "I wish I was, I wish I was. I'm all right outside, humly and awk'ard, queer's I can be, but I ain't pretty inside, oh! I most know I ain't." "I ain't so sure o' that myself," says the man, "but I can tell in a jiffy."
Well, well, so you are Mrs. M of Belleville, the woman that writes. You are but a humly body after all." While this curious colloquy was going on, my poor Irish friend sat on thorns, and tried, by throwing in a little judicious blarney, to soften the thrusts of the home truths to which he had unwittingly exposed me. Between every pause in the conversation, he broke in with "I am sure Mrs.
Bewlah larfed, but I didn't mind her doin' on't, for she sez, sez she, real sort o' cunnin', "'Poor Hiram! they didn't use yeou waal. Yeou ought to hev tried some er the poor an' humly girls; they'd a' been glad an' grateful fer such a sweetheart as yeou be.
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