“Wall,” he said, “this man had a dretful sick wife. And he wuz a carryin’ her to the Immortal spring jest as fast as he could, for he felt it would save her, if he could get her to it. But she died a mile and a half from the spring. It wuz night, for he had traveled night and day to get her there, and the tarvens wuz all shut up, and he laid her on the spring-house floor, and laid down himself on one of the benches. He took a drink himself, the last thing before he laid down, for he felt that he must have sunthin’ to sustain him in his affliction.
“Wall, in the night he heard a splashin’, and he rousted up, and he see that he had left the water kinder careless the night before, and it had broke loose and covered the floor and riz up round the body, and there she wuz, all bright and hearty, a splashin’ and a swimmin’ round in the water.” He said the man cried like a child when he told him of it.
And sez Josiah, “It wuz dretful affectin’. It brought tears from me, to hear on’t. I thought what if it had been you, Samantha!”
“Wall,” sez I, “I don’t see no occasion for tears, unless you would have been sorry to had me brung to.”
“Oh!” sez Josiah, “I didn’t think! I guess I have cried in the wrong place.”
Sez I coldly, “I should think as much.”
And Josiah put on his hat and hurried out. He meant well. But it is quite a nack for pardners to know jest when to cry, and when to laff.
Wall, he follered up that spring, and drinked more, fur more than wuz good for him of that water. And then anon, he would hear of another one, and some dretful big story about it, and he would foller that up, and so it went on, he a follerin’ on, and I a bein’ megum, and drinkin’ stiddy, but moderate. And as it might be expected, I gained in health every day, and every hour. For the waters is good, there haint no doubt of it.
But Josiah takin’ em as he did, bobbin’ round from one to the other, drinkin’ ’em at all hours of day and night, and floodin’ himself out with ’em, every one on ’em—why, he lost strength and health every day, till I felt truly, that if it went on much longer, I should go home in weeds. Not mullein, or burdock, or anything of that sort, but crape.