Josiah wuz dretful took up with it, and vowed that he would save the horns from the next beef creeter he killed and make out his next deed with it.
“So strong and safe,” sez he; “no ‘whereasis’ and ‘to wits’ and ‘namelys,’ and runnin’ up to a stake, and back agin, to wit.”
Sez he, “It would be a boon to git rid of all that nonsense. That would use up one horn, and then I might make my will with the other. I could will you all my property with it, Samantha, and then we could both drink root-beer, or sunthin’, and you could jest keep the horn, and there would be no way to break the will. 2d. Wives have lots of trouble, but how could anybody break it, Samantha, when you had the horn locked up in the tin chest?”
It wuz thoughtful in him, and showed a deep kindness to me, but I felt dubersome about it.
Then there wuz another drinkin’ cup presented by Archbishop Scrope. But it wuz bigger than I love to see—I am afraid that Mr. Scrope drinked too much. But as he had his head cut off in 1405, I couldn’t labor with him about it.
Then there wuz the chair in which the Saxon kings wuz crowned. And a old Bible presented by King Charles II., and one gin by Charles 1st. A old communion plate 500 years old and oak chests, etc., etc., etc.
“With the ends of the fingers a-hangin’ down.”
When we looked at the communion plate Josiah nudged me, and sez he, “Don’t that make you think of she that wuz Sally Ann Plenty?” Sez he, “You know she bought a old communion service once because she could git it for a little or nothin’.” Sez he, “That wuz the same day that she bought a crosscut saw, and a box of gloves 4 sizes too big for her, and wore ’em with the ends of the fingers a-hangin’ down, jest as if they wuz onjointed.”
Sez I, “Hush! This is no place to bring up sech worldly and foolish eppisodes.”