A mid nineteenth century American newspaper article.
THE SHOWMAN’S COURTSHIP.
Thare was many affectin ties which made me hanker arter Betsy Jane. Her father’s farm jined our’n; their cows and our’n squencht their thurst at the same spring; our old mares both had stars in their forrerds; and measles broke out in both famerlies at nearly the same period; our parients (Betsy’s and mine) slept reglarly every Sunday in the same meetin house, and the nabers used to obsarve, “How thick the Wards and Peasleys air!” It was a surblime sigte, in the sprint of the year, to see our several mothters (Bedsy’s and mine) with their gowns pin’d up so they coukin’t sile ‘em, affecshunitly Bilin sope together & aboozin the nabers.
Altho I hankerd intensly arter the objeck of my affecshuns, I darsunt tell her of the fires which was rajin my manly Buzzum. I’d try to do it, but my tung would kerwollup up agin the roof of my mowth & slick thar, like deth to a deseast Afrikan, or a country post-master to his offiss, while my hart whanged agin my ribs like a old-fashioned wheat Flale agin a barn floor.
“Twas a carm still nite in Joon. All nater was husht and nary zeffer disturbed the sereen silens. I sot with Betsy Jane on the fense of her farther’s pastur. We’d bin rompin threw, kullin flours & drivin the woodchuck from his Nativ Lair (so to speak) with long sticks. Wall, we sot thar on the fense, a-swingin our feet two and fro, bluchin as red as the Baldinsville skool house when it was fust painted, and lookin very simple, make no doubt. My left arm was ockepied in ballunsin myself on the fense, while my rite was woundid luvinly round her waste.I cleared my throat and tremblinly sed, “Betsy, you’re a Gazelle.”
I thought that air was putty fine. I waitid to see what affeck it would hav upon her. It evidently didn’t fetch her, for she up and sed, - “you’re a sheep!”
Sez I, “Betsy, I think very muchly of you.”
“I don’t b’leeve a word you say – so there now cume!” with which obsarvashun she hitched away from me.
“I wish thar was winders to my Sole,” said I, “ so that you could see some of my feelins. There’s fire enuff in here,” said I, striking my buzzum with my fist, “to bile all the corn beef and turnips in the naberhood. Versoovius and the Critter ain’t a circumstans!”
She bowd her hed down and commenst chawing the strings to her sun bonnet.
“ar, could you know the sleeplis nites I worry threw with on your account, how vittles has seized to be attractiv to me & how my lims has shrunk up, ere strane probly for sum time, but unfortnitly I lost my ballunse and fell over into the pastur ker smash, tearin my close and seveerly damagin myself ginerally.
Betsy Jane sprung to my assistance in dubble quick time, and dragged me 4th. Then drawin herself up to her full hite, she sed, -
“I won’t listen to your noncents no longer. Jes say rite strate out what you’re drivin at. If you mean gettin hitched, I’M IN!”
I considered that air enuff for all practicul purpusses, and we proceeded immejitly to the parson’s, and was made 1 that very nite
A modern translation of the above:-
THE SHOWMAN’S COURTSHIP
There were many affectionate ties that made me hanker after Betsy Jane. Her father’s farm joined our own; their cows and ours quenched their thirst at the same spring; our old mares both had stars on their foreheads; and measles broke out in both families at nearly the same period; our parents (Betsy’s and mine) slept regularly every Sunday in the same meeting house, and the neighbors used to observe, “How thick the Woods and Peasant fair!” It was a sublime sight, in the spring of the year, to see our several mothers (Betsy’s and mine) with their gowns pined up so they couldn’t soil them, affectionately being close together and boozing with the neighbors.
Although I hankered intensely after the object of my affections, I dare not tell her of the fires that was raging in my manly Bosom. I’d try to do it, but my tongue would wallop up against the roof of my month and stick there, like death to a dearest African, or a country post-master to his office, while my heart hanged against my ribs like old-fashioned wheat Flail against a barn floor.
“It was a calm still night in June. All natter was hushed and Mary’s Heifer disturbed the serene silence. I sat with Betsy Jane on the fence of her father’s pasture. We’d been romping through, killing flowers & driving the woodchuck from his Native Lair (so to speak) with long sticks. Well, we sat there on the fence, swinging our feet two and fro, blushing as red as the Baldwinsville school house when it was first painted, and looking very simple, make no doubt. My left arm was occupied in balancing myself on the fence, while my right was wound lovingly round her waste.
I cleared my throat and tremblingly said, “Betsy, you’re a Gazelle.”
I thought that air was pretty fine. I waited to see what affect it would have upon her. It evidently didn’t fetch her, for she up and said, - “You’re a sheep!”
Says I, “Betsy, I think very much of you.”
“I don’t believe a word you say – so there now come!” with which observation she hitched away from me.
“I wish there was windows to my Soul,” said I, “ so that you could see some of my feelings. There’s fire enough in here,” said I, striking my bosom with my fist, “to burn all the corn beef and turnips in the neighborhood. Vesuvius and the Critter isn’t a circumstance!”
She bowed her head down and comment chewing the strings to her sunbonnet.
“Ah, could you know the sleepless nights I worry through with on your account, how vittles has seized to be attractive to me and how my limbs have shrunk up, here straining probably for sum time, but unfortunately I lost my balance and fell over into the pasture, smashed, tearing my close and severely damaging myself generally.
Betsy Jane sprung to my assistance in double quick time, and dragged me fourth. Then drawing herself up to her full height, she said, -
“I won’t listen to your nonsense no longer. Just say right out what you’re driving at. If you mean getting hitched, I’M IN!”
I considered that fair enough for all practical purposes, and we proceeded immediately to the parson’s, and was made one that very night.