"The more I consider that letter up 'n' down 'n' hind end to, Mrs. Lathrop, the plainer I see 's Cousin Marion must 'a' been a sore 'n' abidin' thorn inside o' father 'n' mother. Perhaps it was that as give him the paralysis! The doctor said 's it was suthin' obscure, 'n' 'f suthin' 's ain't found out till years after you 're dead ain't obscure I don't know what is. Anyway I 've took my stand 'n' it was the only sensible one to take. This 's the first chance I 've ever had in all my life to get a nice change without payin' board, 'n' so I jus' sat right down 'n' wrote to Cousin Marion 't 'f it was convenient to her I 'd come to Knoxville 'n' spend next Sunday. She 's bound to be pleased 't bein' remembered after fifty years, 'n' I 've got father's nose, 'n' that 'll help some, o' course. She can't be worse 'n dead, 'n' 'f she's dead 'n' don't answer I sha'n't never give the subjeck another thought, f'r I naturally ain't got very fond o' her jus' from findin' her musty old letter stuck in behind the flap of a trunk 's I 've been achin' to hack to pieces these last twenty years. I never went up in my garret without I skinned myself somewhere on that trunk, 'n' you know how often I go up garret, Mrs. Lathrop, so it goes without sayin' 's I 've been considerably skinned first 'n' last. But 'f she sh'd be alive 'n' I sh'd get to go there, the Lord knows I certainly shall rejoice to have some o' my own to talk to, f'r blood is thicker 'n water, 'n' although I don't want to hurt your feelin's, Mrs. Lathrop, still you can't in conscience deny 's you ain't no conversationalist. Nobody is that I know hereabouts, neither. The minister talks some, but I 'm always thinkin' how much more I want to tell him things 'n I ever want to hear what he has to say, so I can't in truth feel 's his talkin' gives me much pleasure. Mrs. Macy 's great on gaspin', but she don't as a general thing get very far, 'n' so the long 'n' short o' the whole thing is 't if Cousin Marion ain't a change f'r the better she can't noways be a change f'r the worst, 'n' so I 've made up my mind to sail right in 'n' risk her.
"I 've thought 's it 'll be a nice idea to take her father's cane for a present; it 'll surely come very handy to her,—'f she 's alive a tall,—'n' since Mr. Kimball over-persuaded me into buyin' one o' them patent carpet-beaters, it ain't no manner o' service to me. Not 's I ain't sure 't I don't really prefer the cane to the patent, but I 've paid for the new thing 'n' I ain't goin' to go to work to make myself feel 's I 've wasted my money. The carpet-beater ain 't up to Mr. Kimball's talk by long odds, 'n' so far from turnin' into a egg-beater in the wink of your eye like he promised, you 've got to grip it fast between your knees 'n' get your back ag'in a flour-bin to turn it into anythin' a tall. 'N' then when it does turn, so far from bein' a joy it lets up so quick 't you find yourself most anywhere. Mrs. Craig was gettin' her brace ag'in the hen-house, 'n' when it let up she sat down so sudden 't she smashed the henhouse 'n' a whole settin' o' duck-eggs not to speak of the hen between. Mrs. Macy says 't seein' 's she has more eggs 'n carpets, she jus' beats her carpets with the egg end 'n' don't fuss to change ever. Mrs. Fisher says what puts her out is 't the ring 's you slide up to close the whisks for killin' flies won't stay up, 'n the flies don't get killed but jus' get hit so they buzz without stoppin' from then on. Mrs. Jilkins says right out 's she considers the whole thing a swindle, 'n' 'f Mr. Kimball was n't rentin' his store o' her brother she sh'd tell him so to his face. She says the three-inch measure on the handle 's too short to be o' any real service on a farm, 'n' her opinion is 't Mr. Kimball keeps his sample dipped in kerosene or he never could snap it in 'n' out so quick. Anyhow it all comes in the end to the fact 't, havin' bought it, I 'll work it 'f I die f'r it, 'n' so Cousin Marion c'n have the cane, 'n' may she be everlastin'ly happy usin' it. I did n't get my trunk down 'cause I 'll have Friday to pack anyhow, 'n' any one c'n slide a trunk down a ladder any time, but nobody can't never slide nothin' up nowhere. Besides, I sh'd look like a fool puttin' back a trunk 't I 'd hauled out to visit a cousin who like enough died afore I was born, 'n' I ain't no fool,—never was 'n' never will be."
There was a short stop for a fresh supply of breath.
"I wonder 'f—" began Mrs. Lathrop.
"The difficulty o' all things in this world," Miss Clegg went on promptly, "is 't if you have any brains a tall you 're bound to have so much work for 'em. Now, this findin' o' Cousin Marion no doubt looks simple enough to you 'n' the world in general, 'n' yet the more I turn her up 'n' down 'n' inside out the more new lights I get. When you come to consider 't I only found the letter this mornin', 'n' that it ain't supper-time yet, you c'n easy see 's my day's been more 'n full o' brain-work. Comin' up the street this afternoon, the question o' the possibility o' Cousin Marion's bein' poor come into my mind. I c'n speak out freely to you, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' so I will remark 't I c'n guarantee 's father never give her nothin' o' late years, 'n' 'f she's poor it don't take no eagle eye to know jus' what'll happen when she gets my letter. 'F the letter hadn't been posted 'n' the sack gone to the train afore I thought o' this view o' the matter, I'm free to confess 's I never would 'a' posted it a tall. For there's no use denyin', Mrs. Lathrop, 't, 'f my visit to Cousin Marion sh'd lead to her askin' to borrow 's much 's a quarter, I sh'll bitterly regret ever havin' clawed her out from back o' that trunk-flap. There ain't no possible good 's c'n ever come o' lendin' money to them's ain't able to pay it back, 'n' I learned that lesson to my bitter cost once 'n' for all time when I had that little business with Sam Duruy. That took all the likin' to lend out o' me, 'n' Heaven help me 'f I ever forget it. I thought I was so safe, Mrs. Lathrop,—I looked in all four o' his hoofs, 'n' swished my handkerchief in each o' his eyes, 'n' he was certainly lively, so I planked down my little five dollars 'n' Sam was to keep on drivin' the horse. Well, you know 's well 's I do what happened, 'n' the skin brought seventy-five cents. Sam sued the railroad, 'n' the railroad asked why he did n't read the 'Look out for the Locomotive.' I told him to go into court 'n' swear 's he could n't read, but he said Judge Fitch used to be his school-teacher 'n' knowed 's he could. 'N' then I offered to go to court myself 'n' swear on the Bible 's the whole town looked on him 's more 'n half a idiot, 'n' Mr. Duruy jus' sat right flat down on the whole thing. So they did n't even pay his lawyer, 'n' it goes without sayin' 't o' course he could n't pay me; 'n' then, do you know, Mrs. Lathrop, 'f he did n't have the impudence this very afternoon to stop me down in the square 'n' ask me 'f I would n't lend him ten cents on a rooster! I was pretty nigh to put out over that, I c'n assure you. I mus' 'a' stared at him f'r 's much 's ten seconds afore I sensed 't he was really fool enough to think 't mebbe I was fool enough too. 'N' then I let out at him. 'Not while I have the breath o' life in my body,' I says,—'n' it shook 's I said it,—'not 'f I know my own mind. What's to guarantee me,' I says, ''s your rooster won't take it into his head to go a-promenadin' on the railway track?' I says. He begin to tell 's how, even dead, the rooster was worth more 'n ten cents. 'I d'n' know about that,' I says, 'it don't strike me 's noways likely 't when he suddenly observes the engine 'most on top o' him, he's goin' to take the time 'n' trouble to lay his head square 'n' even across the rail, 'n' you know 's well 's I do 't no rooster killed cornerways ain't never goin' to bring no nickel apiece for his corners. No, Mister Sam Duruy,' I says, 'your lively horse's taught me a lesson,' I says, ''n' hereafter I don't lend no money on so much 's a egg without I see a good curb-bit bought 'n' put in its mouth first,' I says; 'n' then I walked off, 'n' the end o' it all is 't if Cousin Marion's poor I certainly ain't very wild to have her find out 's I'm rich.
"But then, I ain't very anxious to have her rich either, I must say, for it don't take no blind man to figger out 't if she 's rich the money 'd ought to 'a' been mine. 'N' that 's a awful feelin', Mrs. Lathrop,—the feelin' 's other folks 's rich on money 's 'd ought to 'a' been yours. I ain't sure 's I want to know Cousin Marion 'f such 's the facts o' her case, 'n' 's between her bein' poor 'n' wantin' money o' me, 'n' her bein' rich on money right out o' my pocket, I feel like I mebbe clum that ladder this mornin' in a evil hour f'r my future peace o' mind.
"'N' then, too, 'f she 's rich I certainly can't go to see her without I buy me a new bonnet. 'F she 's rich, o' course I want her to see right off 's I 'm rich too, 'n' bein' 's we 're old friends 'n' alone here together, I c'n truthfully state 's she could n't in reason mistrust no such thing from my bonnet. It 's a good bonnet, 'n' it's been a good bonnet year in 'n' year out 'n' in rain 'n' shine turn an' turn about, but I never was give to deceivin' myself no more nor a outsider, 'n' so I will frankly say 't it 's long past its first shininess. Miss White 's freshened it up two times for me, 'n' I always have new ribbons to tie it every other Easter, but still, in the box or out o' the box, its day is past for lookin' brand-new, 'n' I don't deny the truth 's a more foolish woman might feel some inclined to do. So, such bein' the case, Cousin Marion 'n' a new bonnet comes to one 'n' the same thing, 'n' I can't say 's bonnet-buyin' 's a way o' spendin' money 's is over-agreeable to me. However, 'f it is to be it is to be, 'n' I sha'n't cry over nothin'. I 'll buy the bonnet, 'n' I guess 'f she talks to me about her money I c'n come out right quick 'n' sharp 'n' talk about mine. 'N' I guess I c'n talk her down—I 'll try good 'n' hard, I know that. 'N' 'f she sh'd put me beyond all patience, I 'll jus' make no bones about it, but get right up 'n' smash her flat with her own letter o' fifty years ago. I don't believe nobody c'd put on airs in the face o' their own name signed to bein' saved from want by the kind, graspin' hand o' my dead 'n' gone father."
Susan ceased speaking, and rose suddenly to her feet.
"I must go," she said; "it's time I was seein' about supper, 'n' it's been a hard day first 'n' last. It's been 'xcitin', 'n' I cleaned the garret too, 'n' then my mind 's all upset 's to travelling 'n' I've got to consider a lot afore I c'n decide 's to anythin'. 'N' I only feel plum sure o' one thing, 'n' that is 's I don't want to buy no new bonnet. Bonnets is a awful waste o' money, 'n' I've got nothin' inside o' me 's cries out to extravagance. But speakin' o' waste reminds me over again 's I don't want to throw no more time away on you, so, 's I'm always frank 'n' open, I'll jus' say so 'n' go now."