The happy first-born was dear to Mrs. Spriggins as "the apple of her eye," but he always came in for a decent share of the scolding.
"Now, what that critter is a galavantin' to town and gettin' so many letters is mor'n I can tell. Seems to me he must be neglectin' sumthin', for I tell ye things won't git along without puttin' your shoulder to the wheel." (Mrs. Spriggins had evidently heard of the fable of Sisyphus, and gave it an original translation.)
"That's all right Jerushy, but I don't think there is any danger of our Moses. He's as stiddy as a rock."
"Don't let him hear you say so, Simon, for its the worst thing in the world to be a-praisin' your own children, and a-tellin' them they're so smart, and good lookin', it makes them so ever-lastin' conseity."
Mr. Spriggins, Sr., was going to remark that there was no danger of her children getting spoilt, but he knew what was best for himself, and kept a quiet tongue in his head.
The next evening after Moses had been to the post office, he became aware of the startling fact that his mother had been peeking into his trousers pocket while she rearranged his neat little room, and made it look more spicy by the addition of a set of snow-white curtains.
"'Pears to me Moses you have a lot of business agoin' on. Hope you ain't writin' to any girls but Melindy. You know anything I despise is a young man a-flirtin' with every girl he sees, and besides its not what any honest man would do. It's well enough for them 'ere city chaps that thinks no more of their word than eating their supper, to be runnin' arter every piece of calicer they see, but I tell you none of the Spriggins is agoin' to do it."
Mrs. Spriggins evidently meant what she said if one could judge from her vehemence, her snapping eyes and sharp tongue.
"Don't be skeered of me a flirtin' mother, I'll stick to Melindy while there's a button to my coat," said Moses trying hard to look very dignified.
"Well, what is all of 'em letters about?"