“What is the matter, Addie?” she asked.
The ouija board in the Idgit’s brain was unusually stubborn and unmanageable. It was fully three minutes before anything intelligible came from her lips. Then the inarticulate sounds resolved themselves into the words, “Oh, gol, mam!”
“What happened?”
“I dunno, mam.”
“What did you do to the stove?”
“I dunno, mam.”
“Did you light it? How did the burners come to be turned on?”
“I was cleaning the stove, mam. I must ’a’ turned ’em on when I washed the knobs.”
“Then did you light it?”