I glanced up at him, and the thought come to me instinctively that it would be the ondoin’ of us both if I should try to lean heavy on him now, for my weight is great, and he is small-boneded, and I knew that he would crumple right down under the weight of 200 pounds heft.
But I didn’t speak my thoughts—oh, no; I merely looked at him real affectionate, and I took up a sock I wuz mendin’ for him (we wuz in our own room), and I attackted it as socks should be attackted if you lay out to make ’em good and sound. And he went on still more confidential and confidin’, and told me several things he thought I had ort to do if I wuz ever left a relict of him.
It wuz real touchin’, and I wuz considerable affected by it—not to tears—no; I thought I wouldn’t shed any tears if I could help it, for darnin’ is close work, and it calls for all the eyesight you have got; and then I had on a new gray lawn dress that I felt would spot easy; so I restrained my emotions with a almost marble composure, and anon I sez to him as he wuz a goin’ on in that affectin’ way, and sez I:
“I may be took first, Josiah Allen.”
And he admitted that that might be the case, though he couldn’t bear to think on’t, he said, it gin him such awful feelin’s.
He said he had never been able to think on’t with any composure. But after a while he talked more diffuse on the subject, and owned up that he had thought on’t; and sez he, in a still more confidin’ and affectionate way:
“For years, Samantha, I have had it in my head what I would put on your tombstun if I should live to stand up under the hard, hard blow of havin’ to rare one up over you.
“I have thought I should have it read as follers, and to wit, namely:
“‘Here lies Samantha, wife of Deacon Josiah Allen, Esquire, of Jonesville. Deacon in the Methodist Church, salesman in the Jonesville cheese factory, and a man beloved and respected by every one who knows him but to love him, and names him but to praise.’
“Its endin’ in poetry, Samantha, wuz jest what I knew wuz touchin’, dumb touchin’, and would be apt to please you; and it is always a man’s aim to write the obituarys of his former deceased pardner in a way that would suit her and be pleasin’ to her.”