“Why,” says Josiah, in the same hilarious axent, and the same scorfin' look onto him, “Philander says he never felt so worked up about any thing in his life, as he did when he unlocked the barn-door to-night, and found Elburtus there. He said he felt as if he should sink, for he wus so afraid that some evil-minded person might say he done it a purpose. And he said what made him feel the worst about it wuz to think that he should have shut him up axidental when he wus a helpin' so good.”
Says I, “The mean, impudent creeter! As good as Elburtus wuz!”
“Wall,” says Josiah, “you know what I told you,—there is such a thing as bein' too good.”
I wouldn't multiply no more words on the subject, I wus that wrought up and excited and mad; and I wouldn't give in a mite to Josiah Allen, and wouldn't want it repeated now so he could hear it, but I do s'pose that wus the great trouble with Elburtus,—he wus a leetle too good.
And, come to think it over, I don't s'pose Philander had laid any plot to keep him away from 'lection; but he is a great case for fun, and he had laughed and tickled about Elburtus bein' so polite and helpful, and had made a good deel of fun of him. And then, he thinks a awful sight of his wive's brother, and wanted him to get the election.
And I s'pose the idee come to him after Elburtus had got down to the barn where he wus a fodderin' his sheep.
You see, if Elburtus had let well enough alone, and not been too good, every thing would have gone off right then, but he wouldn't. Nothin' to do but he must help Philander get down his fodder. And I s'pose then the idee come to him that he would shet him up, and keep him there till after 'lection wus over. For I don't believe a word about its bein' a axident. And I don't believe Josiah duz, though he pretends he duz. But every time he says that word “axident,” he will laugh out so sort o' aggravatin'. That is what mads me to this day.
But, as Josiah says, who would have thought that Elburtus would have offered to carry that plow home, and throw down the fodder?
But, at any rate, Philander turned the key on him while he wus up over-head, and locked him in there for the day. A meaner, low-liveder, miserabler caper, I never see nor heard of.
But the way Philander gets out of it (he is a natural liar, and has had constant practice), he don't deny lockin' the door, but he says he wus to work on the outside of the barn, and he s'posed Elburtus had gone out, and gone home; and he locked the door, and went away.