He laid it before me with a hauty linement and stood off a few steps to admire it. It wuz drawed up handsome, with little ornaments in blue and yeller ink runnin’ all round the porticos and piazzas, which wuz in red ink. But on a closer perusal I sez to him:
“What room is this where the walls and ceilin’ are all ornamented off so?”
“The settin’ room,” sez he.
Sez I, “Where are the winders?”
“The winders?” sez he, lookin’ closter at it.
“Yes,” sez I, “as the ornaments are all fastened on now there hain’t no winders and no room for any.” 205
“By thunder!” sez he, the second time in my life that I ever hearn him use that wicked swear word.
And I sez, “I should think you would be afraid to be so profane, you a deacon and a grand-father!”
But he paid no attention to my remarks, but sez agin out loud and strong, “By thunder! I forgot the winders.”
“You profane man you!” sez I, pintin’ to another room, “what room is this?”