“‘Tumm,’ says she, ‘doth you think he––’
“‘Don’t you be scared o’ nothin’,’ says I. ‘He’s a lad o’ good feelin’s,’ says I, ‘an’ he’ll treat you the best he knows how. Is you goin’ t’ take un?’
“‘I wathn’t thinkin’ o’ that,’ says she. ‘I wathn’t thinkin’ o’ not. I wath jutht,’ says she, ‘wonderin’.’
“‘They isn’t no sense in that, Liz,’ says I. ‘You just wait an’ find out.’
“‘What’th hith name?’ says she.
“‘Shoos,’ says I. ‘Moses Shoos.’
“With that she up with her pinny an’ begun t’ cry like a young swile.
“‘What you cryin’ for, Liz?’ says I.
“I ’low I couldn’t tell what ’twas all about. But she was like all the women. Lord! ’tis the little things that makes un weep when it comes t’ the weddin’.
“‘Come, Liz,’ says I, ‘what you cryin’ about?’