Says I, “Josiah Allen, I am a woman that has got a vow on me, and I love that girl, as little as I have seen of her, and I am a goin’ to do by her as I would want our Tirzah Ann done by.” Says I, “We shant probable never visit Loon Town again; Tom Pitkins is liable to die off any time with the feelin’s he feels for her; she is liable to die off any minute with her unhappiness, and her feelin’s for him. I shouldn’t wonder a mite if they didn’t live more’n ten or fifteen years if things go on as they be now. And as bad off and wretched as Molly is now, worse is ahead of her, the gloom of a Coffin is enough, let alone the hardness of a Horn. Molly haint a goin’ to be sacrificed on that Horn, while I have got a life left. Desperate diseases require desperate medicines.”
“Well, do for mercy’s sake go to sleep and lemme.”
“What if it was our Tirzah Ann that was in her place.” Says I in a low deep voice, “Haint you a father, Josiah Allen?”
“No I haint!” he snapped out enough to tear my night cap in to. “No I haint, nothin’ nor nobody, nor I wont be at this time of night.”
“Haint you no principle?” says I.
“No I haint! not a darn principle.”
“I’d lay and swear if I was in your place Josiah Allen,” says I almost coldly.
“Well! the idee of roustin’ anybody up in the dead of night, and callin’ on ’em for principle and things. But you wont git any principle out of me at this time of night, you’ll see you wont,” he hollered.
He was almost a luny for the time bein’. I pitted him, and says I soothin’ly:
“Go to sleep Josiah, and we’ll talk it over in the mornin’.”