“Yee; but what's to prevent your onjinin' him? They used to tie up married folks in the old times so't they could n't move an inch. When they read the constitution and bylaws over 'em they used to put in 'till death do us part.' That's the way my father was hitched to his three wives, but death did 'em part—fortunately for him!”
“'Till death us do part' is still in the marriage service,” Susanna said, “and I think of it very often.”
“I want to know if that's there yit!” exclaimed Ansel, with apparent surprise; “I thought they must be leavin' it out, there's so much onjinin' nowadays! Well, accordin' to my notions, if there is anything wuss 'n marriage, it's hevin' it hold till death, for then menfolks don't git any chance of a speritual life till afterwards. They certainly don't when they're being dragged down by women-folks an' young ones.”
“I think the lasting part of the bargain makes it all the more solemn,” Susanna argued.
“Oh, yes, it's solemn enough, but so's a prayer meetin', an' consid'able more elevatin' “; and here Ansel regarded the surrounding scenery with frowning disapproval, as if it left much to be desired.
“Don't you think that there are any agreeable and pleasant women, Ansel?” ventured Susanna.
“Land, yes; heaps of 'em; but they all wear Shaker bunnits!”
“I suppose you know more about the women in the outside world than most of the Brothers, on account of traveling so much?”
“I guess anybody 't drives a seed-cart or peddles stuff along the road knows enough o' women to keep clear of 'em. They 'll come out the kitchen door, choose their papers o' seasonin' an' bottles o' flavorin', worry you 'bout the price an' take the aidge off every dime, make up an' then onmake their minds 'bout what they want, ask if it's pure, an' when by good luck you git your cart out o' the yard, they come runnin' along the road after ye to git ye to swap a bottle o' vanilla for some spruce gum an' give 'em back the change.”
Susanna could not help smiling at Ansel's arraignment of her sex. “Do you think they follow you for the pleasure of shopping, or the pleasure of your conversation, Ansel?” she asked slyly.