Bet. I feel lonely; more lonely than I have felt for yeahs.
Sam. What is the matter, Betsey?
Bet. I had a dream last night, Josiah Allen’s wife.
Sam. What was it?
Bet. I dreamed I was married, Josiah Allen’s wife. I tell you it was hard, after dreamin’ that, to wake up to the cold realities and cares of this life; it was hard. I sot up in end of the bed and wept. (she weeps) I tried to get to sleep again and dream it ovah, but I could not.
Sam. Wall, to be sure, husbands are handy on 4th of Julys, and funeral processions. It looks kinder lonesome to see a woman streaming along alone; but they are contrary creeters, Betsey, when they are a mind to be. How do you like my new bed-spread?
Bet. It is beautiful.
Sam. Yes; it looks well enough now, but it most wore my fingers out a tuftin’ it.
Bet. How sweet it must be to wear the fingers out for a deah companion. I would be willing to wear mine clear down to the bone. I made a vow, some yeahs ago, that I would make my deah future companion happy, for I would nevah, nevah fail to meet him with a sweet smile as he came home to me at twilight. I felt that was all he would require to make him happy. Do you think it was a rash vow, Josiah Allen’s wife?
Sam. Oh, I guess it won’t do any hurt. But if a man couldn’t have but one of the two, a smile or a supper, as he came home at night, I believe he would take the supper.