It wasn’t mad a bit, (I say it, for I didn’t know then in what gender to put it.) It looked me so pleasant in the face, and yet so searchin’ly, that I was kinder flustrated, and says I, in a kind of awe struck tone,
“I hope you won’t be offended, I only ask for information. Be you a masculine, femenine or neutral gender?”
It smiled agin, jest as pleasant as one of my glass jars of maple sugar, and then it opened its mouth and said,
“I am Dr. Mary Walker.”
I don’t know when I have been so tickled; nothin’ is sweeter than knowledge to the inquirin’ mind, when it has been baffled. Says I,
“Mary I am glad to see you,” and I give her hand such a shakin’ that it looked red as a beet when I leggo. Says I,
“I am gladder to see you than I would be to see any nephew or neice I have got in the world. I am as glad to see you as I would be to see any brother or sister of mine.”
Says she, “I can’t recall your countenance.”
Says I, “Mary, I am Josiah Allen’s wife.”