"You know what happened next!—it was the next mornin', 'n' I was makin' bread with a very heavy dough when Ed come bouncin' in for three dollars more margin. Well, I honestly thought I 'd bu'st. I blazed up so quick 'n' so sudden that Ed fell back agin the table, 'n' then I shook till the window rattled. It was a good minute before I could speak, 'n' when I spoke, I may in truth remark, Mrs. Lathrop, that I never spoke plainer nor firmer in my life,—'Edward Andrews'—I says—'Edward Andrews, you paddle yourself right back to Mr. Kimball 'n' tell him that my patience is very short 'n' is gettin' shorter each minute, 'n' you may just casually mention that I ain't got no more money to margin with not now 'n' not never. If a thing as I 've paid nigh to eight-fifths for is shrunk to less than half of itself Mr. Dill 'n' Mr. Shores can margin for it from now on—I'm done forever.' 'N' I was done, too—but I never bargained on what came next!—Mr. Kimball traded that share in wheat for two in a Refrigerator Trust 'n' never even so much as sneezed about it to me, 'n' I will say, Mrs. Lathrop, as I consider that the Bible sayin' 'Honor among thieves' ought to apply to me just as much as to any one else. 'N' there I went into the city as unsuspectin' as a can brimful of buttermilk 'n' bought a paper to read comin' home on the cars, 'n' what should I unfold but wheat runnin' up a ladder along with a bull to get out of the way of a lot of wild-lookin' lambs! The ladder-rungs was numbered 'n' I was sharp enough to see as them numbers was money 'n' that wheat had one leg safe on 110; so I kited home to sell out—'n' it was then I learned about the Refrigerator!
"Well, Mrs. Lathrop!—well, Mrs. Lathrop, what do you think was my feelin's then?—I tell you boilin' lava 'n' India's sunny strand was n't hotter than me that minute. Me—the backbone of the whole thing 'n' sold out like I was a mummy while I was in town buyin' darnin'-cotton!"
Miss Clegg shifted her weight to the other foot and drew a long, fresh breath.
"Mr. Kimball 'n' me has never been the same since," she continued with warmth;—"we had enough to make us different, Heaven knows, for from that day on misfortune has just dogged and rabbited me, I know. The winter was so cold that the only way the Refrigerator Trust could come out even was to burn up toward spring, 'n' the day it burnt wheat was sittin' on 140, kissin' his hand to the new crop."
"But Mr. Kim—" interposed Mrs. Lathrop.
"Oh, well, of course, havin' Mr. Shores fail right opposite brightened everything for him—I 'd smile myself if any one was to fail right opposite me, 'n' I said just that very thing to Mr. Shores the mornin' after. I says,—I says, 'Mr. Shores, you must consider that this is a world of ups and downs, 'n' that if you don't like to fail your failure is makin' Mr. Kimball happy 'n' your loss will be his credit.' But Mr. Shores was too busy to talk, so I bought two skewers to encourage him 'n' come out, 'n' within a week I found to my sorrow as I was pretty unpleasantly near to a mark-down sale myself."
"It was—" observed Mrs. Lathrop, sadly.
"Yes," said her friend, "that's just when it was,—that very self-same week. I was in the square listenin' to Gran'ma Mullins' everlastin' tale of woe over Hiram 'n' Lucy, 'n' up come the blacksmith with a tale of woe for myself. Now, Mrs. Lathrop, you know me 'n' you 've known me a long time 'n' you 've heard me tell this a good many times 'n' yet I want to ask you one time more,—do you think any one but the blacksmith 'n' Mr. Dill would ever have blamed me for the crick's washing out back of the blacksmith's 'n' lettin' the anvil 'n' the hind legs of Mr. Dill's horse slide out sudden? Of course, I own the blacksmith shop 'n' of course I rent it, but—as I told him 'n' Mr. Dill both that very day—nobody can't rent common sense nor yet keep track of men's washouts 'n' horses' hind legs. I knowed all the time I was walkin' towards the crick that it was goin' to be a bad business, but I never expected to see nothin' as looked like Mr. Dill's horse, 'n' I never again shall hope to see nothin' as 'll look like Mr. Dill's looks as he looked at the horse. Not as his horse was n't worth lookin' at either. His legs had gone out behind so far 'n' so unexpected that it seemed like he could n't get them high enough 'n' close enough to suit him, 'n' he just stood there drawin' them up alternate for all the world like a fly on fly-paper. Mr. Dill said he felt like if his horse was n't ever goin' to be able to h'ist his legs no quicker'n that he 'd have to have damages, 'n' at that word I nigh to sat right down. I tell you what, Mrs. Lathrop, Mr. Weskin has bred this damage idea too deep into this town for any comfort. It 's got to where it's better to hurt yourself most any way than to damage some one else only a little. I would n't take the chances of sayin' 'shoo' to a hen on a slippery mornin', 'n' things has come to a pretty pass when you 've got to consider a hen's back-slidin's. Such bein' the case I felt more 'n a little troubled when Mr. Dill said damages, but I tried to look on the bright side, 'n' I told him that it seemed to me that a proper-minded horse would have hauled in his legs when he felt himself slippin' in half. Mr. Dill said his horse unfortunately could n't see with his tail 'n' was also brought up to consider anvils as solid. I answered as all I could say was as it was a great pity as his horse was n't built enough like the rest of the world to have better hindsight than foresight,—'n' then I looked at the anvil in the crick—'n' then I come home."
"'N' that—" said Mrs. Lathrop, sadly.
"Yes, that very night!—it was that very night that the lightnin' struck my house"—Susan halted a moment to turn and look at the house. "I never will see why the lightnin' had to strike my house, Mrs. Lathrop, with yours so handy right next door; but it did strike it—'n' me inside sleepin' the sleep of the nigh to poverty-stricken 'n' done-up, 'n' never as much as dreamin' of bein' woke by a brick bouncin' out of my own flesh 'n' blood stove-hole. My heavens alive! what a night that was, 'n' even if nothin' catched fire everythin' in kingdom come rained in, 'n' when mornin' come 'n' I see what a small hole it was after all I would n't ever have believed it if you 'd swore it till the week after doomsday."