But I says, “There are werse neighbors, and more troublesome creeters in this world, Josiah Allen, than peace, and quiet, and repose.”
“Oh, shaw!” says he. “Why can’t you talk common sense, if you have got any.” And he went on in a firm, obstinate way. “I am determined to fix up the house, and rent it. Wimmens never can see into business. They havn’t got the brains for it. You hain’t to blame for it, Samantha; but you haven’t got the head to see how profitable I am goin’ to make it. And then, our nearest neighbors now live well on to a quarter of a mile away. How neat it will be to have neighbors, right here, by us all the time, day and night.” And he added, dreamily, “I love to neighbor, Samantha, I love to neighbor, dearly.”
But I held firm and told him, “He’d better let well enough alone.” But he wus sot as sot could be, and went on a-fixin’ the house, and it cost him nearer a hundred dollars than it did anything else, besides lamin’ himself, and blisterin’ his hands to work on it himself, and fillin’ his eyes with plaster, and gettin’ creaks in his back a-liftin’ ’round and repairin’.
But he felt neat through it all. It seemed as if the more money he laid out, and the werse he got hurt, the more his mind soared up a-thinkin’ how much money he wus goin’ to make a-rentin’ it, and what a beautiful time he wus a-goin’ to have a-neighborin’.
Wall, jist as soon as the house wus done, he sot out to find some one to occupy it, for that man couldn’t seem to wait a minute. I told him to keep cool. Says I, “You’ll make money by it, if you do.” But no; he couldn’t wait till somebody came to him, and kept inquirin’ ’round; and one day he came home from Janesville tickled most to death, seemingly. He’d rented the house to a Mr. Bamber; the bargain wus all made.
Says I, coldly, “Is it the Bamberses that used to live in Loon Town?”
“Yes,” says he. “And they are splendid folks, Samantha; and I have made a splendid bargain; they are goin’ to give me fifty dollars a year for the house and garden. What do you think now? I never should have known they wus a-lookin’ for a house, if I hadn’t been a-enquirin’ round. What do you think, now, about my keepin’ cool?”
Says I, mildly, but firmly, “My mind hain’t changed from what it wus more formally.”
“Wall, what do you think, now, about my lettin’ the old house run down, when I can make fifty dollars a year, clean gain, besides more’n three times that in solid comfort, a-neighborin’.”