And he started up, with his face nearly covered with smiles and mortification, and sez he:
“That last remark of yours, Cousin John Richard, wuz very convincin’ and eloquent.”
The remark wuz, “I like new milk very much.”
But I wouldn’t throw that milk into his face. And Cousin John received the milk and the remark with composure.
And I kep’ them two men down on to relations, and sheep, and such like subjects till I got ’em off to bed.
I give John Richard a good dose of spignut syrup, for he complained of a sore throat, and he wuz hoarse as a frog. Good land! I should have thought he would be, talkin’ as much as he had, and eloquent too.
Eloquence is dretful tuckerin’; I know well its effects on the system, though mebby I hadn’t ort to be the one to say it.
Wall, in the mornin’ Cousin John Richard wuz weak as a cat. All tired out. He couldn’t hardly get round. And I made him lay down on the lounge in the settin’ room, and I give him spignut syrup once a hour most all day, and kep’ him warm, and lumps of maple sugar for his cough.
And by night he seemed like a new man—that spignut syrup is wonderful; few people know the properties of it.
Wall, Josiah and I both took such a likin’ to that good onselfish eloquent creeter that we prevailed on him to stay a week with us right along.