Says I with spirit, “It ought to be looked into. He was a helpless old man, and she has took the advantage of him.” I went on warmly, for I thought of his gloomy fourbodin’s, and I always felt for the oppressted and imposed upon. I had went on I presume as much as 2 minutes and a ½ when Josiah says he,
“I wouldn’t take on so about it Samantha, anybody to hear you talk would think you was a perfect farrago.”
Says I, “If I was a goin’ to abuse my wife and call her names I would do it accordin’ to grammar, you mean “virtigo” Josiah.”
“Wall I said virtigo, didn’t I?” Josiah never will own that he is in the wrong.
“And I didn’t say you was a virtigo Samantha, only anybody would take you for a virtigo, that didn’t know you.”
I remained almost lost in sad thoughts for pretty nigh ½ a minute, and then I says, in mournful tones,
“Have you heard any of the particulars Josiah? Have you seen any of the relatives? was the old man any more reconciled to the last?”
“Yes,” says Josiah, “As I was comin’ by the old cider mill—”
“Wall do for conscience sake come by the old cider mill, and be done with it,” says I, feelin’ worried out in my mind and by the side of myself.
“How be I goin’ to get by Samantha? you are so agravatin’, you’ll never let me finish a story peacible, and I should think it was about dinner time.”