“Let me know the worst to once! What have you writ?”
He proudly ondid the paper, and I read—
“I, Josiah,
Am settin’ by the fire,
Am right on the spot
Where Shakespeare sot;
I’m proud to be there,
Though I spoze, from what Samantha sez, that it hain’t the same chair.”
“There,” sez he proudly, as he folded up the paper, and put it into his portmoney. “There hain’t a verse here on these hull walls or on the visitors’ book that will compare with that.”
“No,” sez I coldly, “there hain’t—Heaven knows there hain’t.”