I was no sooner composed on my pillow, than the old ladies drew their chairs close together, and began the following colloquy in a low undertone, which rose as it progressed:
Mrs. Barney. Didn’t that man say them was two men that got married to one another?
Mrs. Shad. It seemed to me so.
Mrs. Reed. Why to be sure he did.—I know he said so; for he said what their names was.
Mrs. B. Well, in the name o’ sense, what did the man mean?
Mrs. R. Why, bless your heart and soul, honey! that’s what I’ve been thinkin’ about. It seems mighty curious to me some how or other. I can’t study it out, nohow.
Mrs. S. The man must be jokin’, certainly.
Mrs. R. No, he wasn’t jokin’; for I looked at him, and he was just as much in yearnest as anybody I ever seed; and besides, no Christian man would tell such a story in that solemn way.
Mrs. S. But la’ messy! Mis’ Reed, it can’t be so. It doesn’t stand to reason, don’t you know it don’t?
Mrs. R. Well, I wouldn’t think so; but it’s hard for me, somehow, to dispute a Christian man’s word.