Some of the housen was plain and glossy on the sides, some criss-crossed off, some up and down, some sideways. There was housen of every color that ever was colored, with winders of every shape that ever a pain was cut into, and every sort of ornament that ever a house was trimmed off with. Why some of ’em seemed to be clear ornament, and nothin’ else. There was one in particular, with a flight of stairs on each side and some little slender pillows, that seemed to be clear trimmin’. It looked as light as if it was made of air and sunshine and ornament—which it was mostly. I says to Josiah: “That would be a beautiful home for summer, Josiah, but it would be too cold and windy in the winter season for me.” A young woman, sort o’ vacant lookin’, but dressed up slick spoke out to me, and says in a sort of a uppish tone:
“It haint a house, it is a music stand.”
Says I, “It haint a stand.”
Says she, “It is.”
But I wasn’t a goin’ to be brow-beat by her, so I says in a dignified tone:
“Young woman I have seen furniture and housen stuff when you was in Nonentity, and I guess I know a stand when I see it.” Says I, “I had two black cherry stands with curly maple drawers, with my settin’ out, and I helped Josiah pick out a noble bass-wood stand for Tirzah Ann when she was married and I say that haint a stand.”
Says she, “It is; don’t you see the Muse on top with the lyre.”
But I wouldn’t look up, I had too much dignity, and I resented deeply her tryin’ to lie to me so, and I jest looked at her keenly, and says I: “I can see liars without searchin’ for ’em on the top of housen.”
Says she, “I meant one of the Muses; one of Jupiter and Mnemosyne’s daughters, with her lyre?”
Says I firmly, “I don’t care whose daughters they be. I don’t think no more of a liar because they happen to have a likely father and mother. I abominate ’em, and always did.”