Says I, “I knew you would feel jest so; home when it is the home of the heart as well as the body, is almost a heaven below. And,” I added in the same tones, or pretty nigh the same, “mebby you had better git me a little kindlin’ wood Josiah, before you unharness.”
He complied with my request and in about an hour’s time we sot down to a supper good enough for a king, and Josiah said it was. He acted happy, very, and exceedinly clever; he had found everything right to the barn, and I also to the house, and we felt well. And though we had held firm, and wouldn’t have took no rash means to git rid of our trouble, it did seem such a blessed relief to be at rest from David Doodle; it seemed so unutterably sweet not to have his linement throwed in our faces every moment.
Thomas J. wasn’t comin’ home till Saturday. We see him and Tirzah Ann as we come through Jonesville, and they said the last of the ‘Creation Searchers’ had got home, but their conduct had leaked out through the bride and the Editor of the Auger’ses wife, and they dassant go out in the street, any one of ’em, they had so much fun poked at ’em. Betsey come in at night; she had been to Miss Daggets to work, and she had a flour sack with some beans, and other provisions.
Says I in pityin’ axents, “How do you do, Betsey?”
Well she said she enjoyed real poor health; she had got the shingles the worst kind, and a swelled neck, and the newraligy, and the ganders, and says she, “Havin’ to support a big family in this condition makes it hard for me.”
“Don’t your husband help you any, Betsey?” says I.
“Oh!” says she, “he is down with the horrers the hull time,” says she, “my work days haint half so bad as the hard times I have nights,” she said she didn’t git no sleep at all hardly.
Says I, “Haint you most sorry Betsey that you ever tried to git married?”
She felt so bad and was so discouraged and down-hearted that she come out the plainest I ever see her, and says she:
“Josiah Allen’s wife, I’ll tell you the truth! If it wasn’t for the name of bein’ married, and the dignity I got by bein’ in that state, I should be sorry as I could be; but,” says she as she lifted her flour sack of provisions onto her tired shoulders previous to startin’ home, “I wouldn’t part with the dignity I got by bein’ married, not for a ten cent bill, as bad as I want money, and as much as I need it.”