“No, indeed. What could Mrs. Coffin tell me about you?”
“All right. Nothin', nothin'. Only if she did, tain't so. But I ain't goin' to stand it no more, Mr. Ellery. Bein' shut up in a darned old—excuse my swearin', I didn't mean to, though I got reason enough, land knows—bein' shut up in a room full of trunks and odds and ends is goin' too fur. I never want to smell old clothes ag'in long's I live. Would you stand it if you was me, Mr. Ellery?”
“Why, of course I mustn't interfere in your family matters, Mr. Pepper. Perhaps I'd better call some other time. Good afternoon.”
“Hold on! hold on! you ain't answered me yet. You're a minister and I go to your meetin' house. Tell me what you'd do if you was me. Would you stand it?”
Ellery laughed aloud.
“No,” he said, “I suppose I shouldn't.”
“I bet you wouldn't! What would you do?”
“I don't know. You're of age, Mr. Pepper, and you must decide for yourself. I think I should declare my independence. Really, I must go. I—”
“Don't be in such a hurry. I want advice. I need it. And, so fur's DECLARIN' goes, that don't do me no good. She can declare more things in a minute than I can think of in a week. Tongue! I never heard—No, no! Never mind the declarin'. What would you DO? S'posin' you wanted to go outdoor without havin' her tagged to your coat tails, how'd you stop the taggin'?”
The absurdity of the affair was too much for the visitor. He roared a “Ha, ha!” that caused Abishai to wave a warning hand beneath the sash.