No, I make no matches, nor break none.
But I happened to speak sort of axidently as it were to Mr. Freeman one day, and told him my niece wuz a-comin' to spend a week with me, jest as quick as Miss Planks step-sister's daughter's cousin got away. (Miss Plank, like the rest of Chicago freeholders, had relations back to the 3d and 4th generation come onto 'em like flocks of ravenin' grasshoppers or locusses, durin' the Fair.)
And I sez—though I am the one that hadn't ort to say it, mebby—"She is one of the sweetest girls on earth."
Sez I, "I call her a girl, though I spoze I ort to call her a woman, for she is one in years. But because she hain't never been married," sez I presently, "hain't, no reason that she couldn't be, for she has had offers, and offers, and might be married any day now.
"But," sez I, "she kep single from duty once, and now it seems to be from choice."
He sort of smiled with his eyes. He wuz used to such talk, I spoze. Good land! the wimmen all made perfect fools of themselves about him.
But he sez in his pleasant way, "I shall be very glad to meet your niece. I shall be sure to like her, if she is any like her aunt."
Pretty admirin' talk, that wuz. But good land! Josiah sot right there, and he wuzn't jealous a mite. Mr. Freeman wuz young enough to be my boy, anyway. And then Josiah knew what I had in my mind.
But I told my pardner that night, sez I—