The mystery wuz all explained, my dignity and my beloved pardner’s safety all assured. I felt a feeling of infinite relief, and yet I felt like a fool, and I blamed him severely for this 141 ridiculous contrary temps that had occurred in my mind.
“Of course,” sez he, “it is a great rise for her, I have hearn that she hain’t worth much, as I count wealth, and as we are speakin’ in confidence, I will say that there is a rich widder here who has hopes of me, and mebby I’ve gin her some encouragement, kinder accidental, as you may say, but I ort to know better. Widdowers can’t be too careful; they do great harm, let ’em be as careful as possible. They tromple right and left over wimmen’s hearts do the best they can. But since I have seen Miss Smith and witnessed her sad face I have done a sight of thinkin’. Here the case lays, the widder is strong, she can stand trouble better. The widder is happy, for she has got that which will make any woman happy—health, wealth, and property. And I’ve been turnin’ it over in my mind that mebby Duty is drawin’ me away from the widder and towards the maid. It hain’t because the widder is homely as the old Harry that influences me, no not at all. But the thought of lightenin’ the burden of the sad and down hearted, makin’ the mournful eyes dance with ecstasy, and the skrinkin’ form bound with joy like—like—the 142 boundin’ row on the hill tops. Now as the case stands marry I will and must. My wife has already been lost for a period of three months lackin’ three weeks. She sweetly passed away murmurin’, ‘I am glad to go.’”
“No wonder at that!” I sez, “no wonder!”
“Yes, she wuz a Christian and she passed sweetly up into the Hevings, thank the Lord!” sez he lookin’ acrost onto Faith’s sweet face, for she had come back and set down acrost the room.
“She is better off, I hain’t a doubt on’t!” sez I fervently.
“I don’t know about that. I did well by her, and she felt as well as myself, that to be my wife wuz a fate not often gin to mortal wimmen.”
“That is so!” sez I fervently, “that is so!”
“Yes she wuz proud and happy durin’ her life. I did everything for her. I killed a chicken durin’ her last sickness onasked, jest to surprise her with soup. She lived proud and happy and died happy.”
“I hain’t a doubt that she died happy.”
“No,” sez he, “and now I must make a choice of her successor. It is a hard job to do,” sez he. 143