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by Unknown

“Yay,” said the Shaker, and he led the way into the house, another bein’ sent to put my horse and wagon under kiver.

A solum female, lookin’ somewhat like a last year’s bean-pole stuck into a long meal-bag, cum in and axed me was I athirst and did I hunger? To which I asserted, “A few.” She went orf, and I endeavored to open a conversation with the old man.

“Elder, I spect,” sed I.

“Yay,” he said.

“Health’s good, I reckon?”

“Yay.”

“What’s the wages of a Elder, when he understands his bizness—or do you devote your sarvices gratooitous?”

“Yay.”

“Storm nigh, sir?”

“Yay.”