And I may as well tell the hull story now, as I spoze my readers are most as anxious about it as I wuz. Oh, Josiah! How could you done it? How I do hate to tell it! Must I tell the shameful facts? Oh, Duty! lower thy strongest apron strings and let me cling and tell and weep. And there it had been goin’ on for months and I not mistrustin’ it. But Duty, I will hold hard onto thy strings and tell the shameful tale.
Josiah owned a old dwellin’ house in the environs of Jonesville, right acrost from Cap’n Bardeen’s, who rented it of him to store things in. The town line runs right under the house, so the sink is in Zoar, and the cupboard always had stood in Jonesville. But owin’ to Ernest White’s labors and prayers and votes, his and all other good ministers and earnest helpers, Jonesville went no-license now jest as Loontown did last year.
And jest as Satan always duz if he gits holt of souls that he can’t buy or skair, he will try to cheat ’em, he is so suttle. It seems that after we got away that Cap’n Bardeen moved that cupboard over to the other side of the room into Zoar 204 and went to sellin’ whiskey out on’t. Awful doin’s! The minute I read the letter I sez:
“Josiah Allen, do you write this very minute and stop this wicked, wicked works!” Sez I: “No knowin’ how many Jonesvillians will feel their religion a-wobblin’ and tottlin’ just by your example; naterally they would look up to a deacon and emulate his example––do you stop it to once!”
“No, Samantha,” sez he, “Cap’n Bardeen and his father owns more cows than any other Jonesvillians. If I want to be salesman agin in the Jonesville factory I mustn’t make ’em mad, and they pay a dretful high rent.”
“I wouldn’t call it rent,” sez I, “I’d call it blood-money. I’d run a pirate flag up on the ruff with these words on it, ‘Josiah Allen, Deacon.’”
He wuz agitated and sez, “Oh, no, Samantha; I wouldn’t do that for the world, I am so well thought on in the M. E. meetin’ house.”
“Well, you won’t be well thought on if you do such a thing as this!” sez I. “Jest think how Ernest White, that good devoted minister, has labored and prayed for the good of souls and bodies, and you tryin’ your best to overthrow it all. How could you do it, Josiah?”
“Well, I may as well tell you, Samantha, I writ to Ury and kinder left it to him. He knows my ambitions and my biziness. He knows how handy money is, and he fixed it all straight and right.”
“Ury!” sez I, “why should you leave it to Ury? Does he keep your conscience and clean it off when it gits black and nasty by such doin’s as this?”