“You know what, Miss Mary,” ses I, “will you.”
She didn’t say nothin’, but blushed worse and worse.
“Now, mind,” ses I, “I must have a answer Crismus eve.”
“Well,” ses she—and then she looked up and laughed, and sed—“exchange is no robbery, is it, sister Carline.”
“No sis,” ses she, “but I reckon Joseph got his pay bout the same time you stole his——.”
“Stop, stop, sister, Majer didn’t say his heart——.”
“There, there!” ses Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah, clappin’ ther hands, and laughin’ as loud as they could—“there, there, little innocent sister’s let the cat out o’ the bag, at last. I told you so, Majer.”
I never felt so good afore in all my life, and Miss Mary, pore gall, hid her face in her hands and begun to cry, she felt so about it—that’s the way with the galls, they always cry when they feel the happiest; but I soon got her in a good humour, and then I went home. I’m gwine to bring her rite up to the scratch Crismus, or I ain’t here. I’ll tell you how I cum out in my next. No more from
Your friend, ’til deth,
Jos. Jones.