Far. H. Oh, she’s chipper enough when things goes to suit; but when I’m r’iled, an’ dyin’ to see the fur fly—to hev it out with some one—then she’s mummer than the side o’ a house; ye couldn’t git a word out o’ her then with a pair o’ oxen! Ef she’d only spit it out, too, an’ hev a good out en out settlin’ o’ matters, ’twould clear the air like a thunder-storm; but thet’s exactly whar the pinch comes. I might r’are an’ tear, an’ pull the house down over our heads, fer all the good ’twould do—thet woman would set as calm es a cucumber, or go about her chores, an’ you’d never guess she knew I was within a hundred miles o’ her! Either she hain’t got an atom o’ sense in her git up, or else she’s too dumb to show it at sech times. It’s enough to drive a man into fits, an’ I can’t go it no longer. It’s either her or me that’s got to git out! I’m willin’ to do my duty to the letter, an’ give her a share in the old farm. I wouldn’t see her want for nothin’, fer in spite o’ her tongue—
Law. P. I rather think you mean her want of tongue!
Far. H. Jest so! There isn’t a kinder or willin’er woman in the section.
Law. P. Suppose, now, that we sum up: your wife, according to your statements, is a good, pure woman—
Far. H. That she is, lawyer! I’d like to hear any one say a thing against Betsey’s character! I’d choke the life out ov him!
Law. P. Fond of her children and grandchildren; don’t gossip; domestic in her tastes—Does she keep your house in order, your clothes mended, your wants all attended to, and give you your meals on time!
Far. H. Why, of course! Thet’s what a wife’s fer, isn’t she? What a question to ax!
Law. P. You acknowledge all this. Now, supposing, on the contrary, that your wife was a shrew.
Far. H. (Bewildered.) A which?