I riz up and laid holt of him, and sez I, “Do you stay where you be, Josiah Allen. I should think you’d done enough for one night.”
Sez he, “What henders Martin and Fazer from walkin’ in jest as I did, and bein’ skairt to death?”
Sez I, “Martin and Al Faizi know enough to take care of themselves, and it is your place to go to bed and behave yourself.”
“A-ondressin’ herself at this time of night!” he kep’ a-mutterin’ as he put his vest down on a chair.
“What are you a-doin’?” sez I.
“Wall, there hain’t a lot of strange wimmen round, is there?”
I see it wuz vain to dispute the pint. He acted deeply injured, and as if the woman had made a plot to skair him, and I had to gin up the idee of wringin’ any jestice out of his words and demeanors in the case.
But the next mornin’ he felt calmer, and didn’t seem to blame her so much, and admitted that she had to ondress, and said of his own accord that mebby he had been too hard on her.
But he wuzn’t quite reconciled, I could see, and felt deeply that he might have escaped the shock if she hadn’t ondressed.
Wall, our first visit wuz to Shakespeare’s birth-place. We sot out bright and early.