And, oh! it fills my soul with joy
To greet Deacon Henzy and the rest of the Jonesvillians once more.”
It spilte the meter, but he didn’t care. He acted fairly crazed with joy to be home.
The first thing he done the next mornin’ when he got up wuz to throw his best clothes in a sort of a scornful heap behind his closet door. He throwed ’em some as if he hated the very sight on ’em. When I found ’em afterwards, all tumbled in together, we had a number of words.
But, as I say, he throwed his best clothes there, and specially his stiff collars and cuffs—them looked some as if they’d been trompled on.
And then that man got on the worst-lookin’ pair of pantaloons and vest you ever see—holes in the knees, and the vest ripped up in the back, and the pockets hangin’ outside. I’d been a-savin’ ’em for carpet rags.
And he went down suller and took a old coat offen the apple-ben. We had used it for two winters to cover up the apples in extra cold nights. And the land knows where he got the hat he put on—a old straw, the rim a-hangin’ half off, and the crown all jammed in. I guess he found it up in the woodhouse chamber.
But, anyway, his looks wuz sech, so onbecomin’ to a deacon and a pathmaster, let alone a cultered gentleman of foreign travel, that I took him to do sharply about it.
