Sez I, "Keep still, Josiah; they're a-lookin' at you."
"Wall, let 'em look," sez he, out loud and defiant.
"Consomme of chicken a la princess—what do we want of Princesses here, or Queens, or Dukesses—we want sunthin' to eat! Devilish crabs—do you want some, Samantha?"
I looked over his shoulder, in wild horrer at them awful words, and then I whispered, "Devilled crabs—and do you keep still, Josiah Allen; I'd ruther not have anythin' to eat at all than to have you act so—it hain't devilish."
"Wall, what is the difference?" he sez, out loud and strong; "devilish or bedevilled, they both mean the same.
"And it is true, too—too true; they are all bedevilled," sez he, gloomily eyin' the bill.
I allers hated crabs from the time they used to fasten to my bare toes down in the old swimmin' hole in the creek. "Wall, you don't want any bedevilled crabs, do you?"
"I allus hated crabs!"