Sez Josiah: “It is, and I'll swear to it.”
Sez I, goin' right on, cool and serene, “The sunshine of true love gilds the pathway with the brightest radiance we know anything about, but it hain't all radiance.”
“Yes, it is,” sez Josiah, firmly, “it is, every mite of it.”
And Serena Fogg sez, tenderly and amiably, “Yes, I think Mr. Allen is right; I think it is.”
“Wall,” sez I, in meanin' axcents, awful meanin', “when you are married you will change your opinion, you mark my word.”
And she said, gently, but persistently, “That she guessed she shouldn't; she guessed she was in the right of it.”
Sez I, “You think when anybody is married they have got beyend all earthly trials, and nothin' but perfect peace and rest remains?”
And she sez, gently, “Yes, mem!”
“Why,” sez I, “I am married, and have been for upwards of twenty years, and I think I ought to know somethin' about it; and how can it be called a state of perfect rest, when some days I have to pass through as many changes as a comet, and each change a tegus one. I have to wabble round and be a little of everything, and change sudden, too.
“I have to be a cook, a step-mother, a housemaid, a church woman, a wet nurse (lots of times I have to wade out in the damp grass to take care of wet chickens and goslins). I have to be a tailoress, a dairy-maid, a literary soarer, a visitor, a fruit-canner, a adviser, a soother, a dressmaker, a hostess, a milliner, a gardener, a painter, a surgeon, a doctor, a carpenter, a woman, and more'n forty other things.