“The critter groaned, for both cases was so ‘bad he didn’t know which to take up to defend, so he grinned horrid and said nothin’; and it was enough to make him grin too, that’s a fact. He looked as if he had got hold on a bill o’ pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs that time, you may depend.
“Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin’ room, where we was all half circled round the fire, and two sleepin’ rooms off of it. One of these Obi had, who was a-bed, groanin’, coughin’, and turnin’ over and over all the time on the creakin’ bedstead with pleurisy; t’other was for the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his mother, and the hearth, or any other soft place we could find, was allocated for lawyer and me.
“What a scarecrow lookin’ critter old aunty was, warn’t she? She was all in rags and tatters, and though she lived ‘longside of the lake the best part of her emigrant life, had never used water since she was christened. Her eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like two burnt holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied so tight with an eel-skin behind her head, it seemed to take the hide with it. I ‘most wonder how she ever shot to her eyes to go to sleep. She had no stockins on her legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn’t lift her feet up, for fear of droppin’ off her slippers; but she just shoved and slid about as if she was on ice. She had a small pipe in her mouth, with about an inch of a stem, to keep her nose warm, and her skin was so yaller and wrinkled, and hard and oily, she looked jist like a dried smoked red herrin’, she did upon my soul.
“The floor of the room was blacker nor ink, because that is pale sometimes; and the utenshils, oh, if the fire didn’t purify ‘em now and ag’in, all the scrubbin’ in the world wouldn’t, they was past that. Whenever the door was opened, in run the pigs, and the old woman hobbled round arter them, bangin’ them with a fryin’ pan, till she seemed out o’ breath. Every time she took less and less notice of ‘em, for she was ‘most beat out herself, and was busy a gettin’ of the tea-kettle to bile, and it appeared to me she was a-goin’ to give in and let ‘em sleep with me and the lawyer, near the fire.
“So I jist puts the tongs in the sparklin’ coals and heats the eends on ‘em red hot, and the next time they comes in, I watches a chance, outs with the tongs, and seizes the old sow by the tail, and holds on till I singes it beautiful. The way she let go ain’t no matter, but if she didn’t yell it’s a pity, that’s all. She made right straight for the door, dashed in atween old aunty’s legs, and carries her out on her back, ridin’ straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heels in the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along side of her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool itself.
“Aunty took up the screamin’ then, where the pig left off; but her voice warn’t so good, poor thing! she was too old for that, it sounded like a cracked bell; it was loud enough, but it warn’t jist so clear. She came in drippin’ and cryin’ and scoldin’; she hated water, and what was wus, this water made her dirtier. It ran off of her like a gutter. The way she let out agin pigs, travellers and houses of entertainment, was a caution to sinners. She vowed she’d stop public next mornin’, and bile her kettle with the sign; folks might entertain themselves and be hanged to ‘em, for all her, that they might. Then she mounted a ladder and goes up into the loft-to change.
“‘Judge’ sais I, ‘I am sorry, too, I singed that pig’s tail arter that fashion, for the smell of pork chops makes me feel kinder hungry, and if we had ‘em, no soul could eat ‘em here in such a stye as this. But, dear me,’ sais I, ‘You’d better move, Sir; that old woman is juicy, and I see it a comin’ through the cracks of the floor above, like a streak of molasses.
“‘Mr. Slick,’ sais he, ‘this is dreadful. I never saw any thing so bad before in all this country; but what can’t be cured must be endured, I do suppose. We must only be good-natured and do the best we can, that’s all. An emigrant house is no place to stop at, is it? There is a tin case,’ sais he, ‘containin’ a cold tongue and some biscuits, in my portmanter; please to get them out. You must act as butler to-night, if you please; for I can’t eat any thing that old woman touches.’
“So I spreads one of his napkins on the table, and gets out the eatables, and then he produced a pocket pistol, for he was a sensible man was the judge, and we made a small check, for there warn’t enough for a feed.
“Arter that, he takes out a night-cap, and fits it on tight, and then puts on his cloak, and wraps the hood of it close over his head, and foldin’ himself up in it, he went and laid down without ondressin’. The lawyer took a stretch for it on the bench, with his gig cushions for a pillar, and I makes up the fire, sits down on the chair, puts my legs up on the jamb, draws my hat over my eyes, and folds my arms for sleep.