“She’s in the poor-house.”
“Why, Serepta Pester!” sez I, “what do you mean?”
“I mean what I say, my sister, Azuba Clapsaddle, is in the poor-house.”
“Why, where is their property gone?” sez I. “They wuz well off. Azuba had five thousand dollars of her own when she married him.”
“I know it,” sez she, “and I can tell you, Josiah Allen’s wife, where their property has gone, it has gone down Phileman Clapsaddle’s throat. Look down that man’s throat and you will see 150 acres of land, a good house and barn, twenty sheep and forty head of cattle.”
“Why-ee!” sez I.
“Yes, and you’ll see four mules, a span of horses, two buggies, a double sleigh, and three buffalo robes. He’s drinked ’em all up, and two horse rakes, a cultivator, and a thrashin’ machine.”
“Why-ee!” sez I agin. “And where are the children?”
“The boys have inherited their father’s habits and drink as bad as he duz and the oldest girl has gone to the bad.”
“Oh dear! oh dear me!” sez I, and we both sot silent for a spell. And then thinkin’ I must say sunthin’ and wantin’ to strike a safe subject and a good lookin’ one, I sez: