“But,” sez Josiah, “Ury sez that if it wuzn’t sold there by Cap’n Bardeen the factory folks would go over into Zoar and git worse likker sold by low down critters.”
Sez I, “You might as well say if Christians don’t steal and murder, it will be done by them of poor moral character. That is one strong weepon to kill the evil––confine the bizness to the low and vile and show the world that you, a Methodist and a deacon, put the bizness right where it belongs, with murder and all wickedness, not as you are sayin’ now by your example, it is right and I will protect it.”
“Well,” sez Josiah, as sot as a old hen settin’ on a brick bat, “it is law; Ury has settled it.”
My heart ached so that it seemed to clear my head. “We’ll see,” sez I, “if it can’t be changed. I’ll know before a week has gone over my head.” And I got up and dragged out the hair trunk, sithin’ so deep that it wuz dretful to hear, 207 some like the melancholy winter winds howlin’ round a Jonesville chimbly.
“What are you a goin’ to do, Samantha?” sez Josiah anxiously.
“I am goin’ back home,” sez I, “to-morrer to see about that law.”
“Alone?” sez he.
“Yes, alone,” sez I, “alone.”
“Never!” sez Josiah. “Never will I let my idol go from Japan to Jonesville unprotected. If you must go and make a town’s talk from China to Jonesville I’ll stand by you.” And he took down his hat and ombrell.
“What would you do if you went back?” sez I. “I should think you had done enough as it is; I shall go alone.”