"But I kin see, m'am, dat yer don't know what I means! I didn't des switch 'er wid er cowhide er de buggy whip! I got in er regular habit er lammin' her wid anything I git hold of—wid er axe handle or wid er fire shovel——"
"Well, dat's all right," Minerva interrupted admiringly. "She had de same chance ez you! I takes my chances. What I wants is er husban'—a husban' dat's got de sand in his gizzard! Dat fust husban' er mine weren't no good 'tall—nebber hit me in his life but once—slap me in de face one day, lak dat!"
She gave a contemptuous imitation of the trivial blow with the palms of her hands.
"An' what'd you do, m'am?" Andy asked with sudden suspicion.
"Nuttin' 'tall!" she said with a smile. "I des laf, haul off, kinder playful lak, an' knock 'im down wid de flatiron——"
Andy leaped to his feet and walked around the table toward the door:
"Wid de flatiron!" he repeated incredulously.
"Didn't hit 'im hard!" Minerva laughed. "But he tumble on de flo' lak er ten-pin in er bowlin' alley. I stan' dar waitin' fer 'im ter git up an' come ergin, an' what ye reckon he done?"
"I dunno, m'am," Andy sighed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
Minerva laughed joyously at the memory of the scene: