So I follered him; and he led the way into a beautiful room, kinder round, and red-colored, with lots of elegant pictures and lookin’-glasses and books.
He then shook hands with me, and I with him. I, too, am a perfect lady. And then he drawed up a chair for me with his own hands (hands that grip holt of the same hellum that G. W. had gripped holt of. O soul! be calm when I think on’t), and asked me to set down; and consequently I sot.
I leaned my umberell in a easy, careless position against a adjacent chair, adjusted my long green veil in long, graceful folds,—I hain’t vain, but I like to look well,—and then I at once told him of my errents. I told him—
“I had brought three errents to him from Jonesville,—one for myself, and two for Dorlesky Burpy.”
He bowed, but didn’t say nothin’: he looked tired. Josiah always looks tired in the mornin’ when he has got his milkin’ and barn-chores done, so it didn’t surprise me. And havin’ calculated to tackle him on my own errent first, consequently I tackled him.
I told him how deep my love and devotion to my pardner wuz.
And he said “he had heard of it.”
And I says, “I s’pose so. I s’pose such things will spread, bein’ a sort of a rarity. I’d heard that it had got out, ’way beyend Loontown, and all round.”
“Yes,” he said, “it was spoke of a good deal.”