“Don’t you believe if I wuz dretful, awful good I could see the tip end of one of ’em?” And here he branched off. “I heard mother say she wuz goin’ to carry some flowers to put on the grave. She wuz cryin’ and said it wuz because Grandma loved ’em. And I want to take over a little mite of Bologna sassige and put on the grave; Grandma loved it; she said she loved it better than most anything, and I do, too. Can’t I take a little mite over, Aunt Samantha?”
And I told him, “No, that dear Grandma had gone where she had divine food, and would never be hungry agin; she had everything that wuz most beautiful and blessed.”
“Well, what makes mother carry the flowers?”
And I sez, “It will make your mother feel better, Jack, that’s all.”
“Well, it would make me feel better to carry the b’lona. What’s the difference?” And I sithed and wuz at my wits’ end to explain the difference to him, and don’t spoze I did after all my outlay of breath, and, as Jack said, what wuz the difference? And I repeated it to myself as I wuz ondressin’ goin’ to bed—“What wuz the difference?”
And Josiah thought I wuz talkin’ to him, and sez, “What? There hain’t any.”
And I replied to myself, for the subject hanted me, “But it would be a town’s talk.”
And Josiah said, “What of it? What if it wuz? The town don’t know everything.” And he wuz half asleep and didn’t know what he wuz talkin’ and disputin’ about, nor I nuther, and we settin’ ourselves up and callin’ ourselves smart. Well, though it is like hitchin’ the democrat to the old mare’s foretop for a few minutes, I spoze I might as well tell what Jack told me afterwards how it come out. He couldn’t seem to give up the idee of carryin’ that sassige, and next time he see his ma carryin’ some flowers to put on the grave, posies, too, that his Grandma couldn’t bear the smell of when she wuz alive, said they made her sick (she never cared much for flowers of any kind, wuz dretful practical and had cabbages and onions growin’ right up to the front door), but Tamer wuz bound to carry some, thinkin’ it looked well, I spoze, and agin Jack tackled her about the sassige. Sez he, “Grandma loved it better than she did flowers enough sight,” and his mother told him to stop such talking instantly.
And then sez Jack, “I got mad and told her I would take some, and then mother said she would whip me if I mentioned the subject agin; and then I sez, ‘B’lona,’ and then she did whip me hard. Grandma wouldn’t have done it,” sez Jack, “and I loved her, and I’ve heard her say lots of times that children ort to have their rights, and I can’t see why I can’t carry over sunthin’ to lay on Grandma’s grave jest as well as all the rest. I would love to carry some yarn, she wuz always knittin’. She would cry if she got out of yarn, and Ma knows it, and I wanted to carry over a little skein of blue and white yarn, jest the color she loved best, but Ma said she would whip me if I took a inch of yarn there, and there it is. I can’t do nothin’ I want to.”
And Jack whimpered a little, and I sez to him soothin’ly, “Never mind, Jack, Grandma knows you love her, and she loves you jest as well as she ever did, and better.” And I spoze I talked to him over an hour on the subject, and spozed he had forgot all about ornamentin’ the grave, he had begun to look considerable bright, when all of a sudden he broke out real confidential: “Don’t you think it would be a good plan if I took over a little mite of cheese? Grandma wuz dretful fond of sage cheese.”