But I knew he wouldn’t, I knew he would quiet down while he wuz gone, and he did.
But my sufferin’s through that day can’t never be told or sung. And the martyrs that I called on, and the groans and sithes that I smothered in my breast waist, couldn’t be told.
But jest as I expected, when Peter first blasted out on the clarinet loud and strong, not bein’ afraid of wakin’ anybody up, I had to drop everything and go right up to Melinda Ann. But the attack wuz light, and, as usual, after she got over the first shock she enjoyed it.
And I happened to mention—havin’ that pride I have spoke of, of havin’ the relations on his side stand on their best foot before mine—I happened to mention that Peter got up and played in the night because he wuz lonesome, and that he said he would give half his property (he wuz well off) if he had somebody to play the organ while he played the clarinet.
I see she grew more meller-lookin’ and brightened up, and she sez:
“I used to be a good player.”
And if you’ll believe it—I don’t spoze you will, for Josiah wouldn’t when I told him that night—
But when Josiah Allen came home that night they wuz a playin’ together like a pair of turkle doves, she a playin’ the organ, and he a settin’ by her a tootin’, both as happy as kings.
And from that time out she never got skairt agin when he bust out sudden in song or begun gradual. And her fits grew lighter and lighter and fur seldomer.
And though our sufferin’s wuz heavy and severe to hear that organ and clarinet, or base viol, or pickelo, or brass horn a goin’ day and night, yet I seemed to see what wuz a comin’ on’t, and I held Josiah by main force to stand still and let providential circumstances have a straight path to move on in.