“Waal, ye done it, sure,” said the uncompromising Editha. “But fer you-’uns I would hev married that man and owned all he hev got from his ‘palace’ ter his store teeth.”
“Did—did you-’uns say his teeth war jes store teeth?” demanded Benjie, excitedly.
“Did you-’uns expec’ the critter ter cut a new set of teeth at his time of life?” laughed Editha.
“O ’Ditha, I felt so cheap whenst ye tol’ ’bout his fine clothes,” Benjie began.
“He used ter wear jes ez fine clothes forty-five years ago,” interrupted Editha, “an’ he war then ez supple a jumping-jack ez ever ye see, not a hirpling old codger; but, lawsy! I oughtn’t ter laff at his rheumatics, remembering all them beads on that cape.”
As they climbed into the wagon, the ascent being completed, and resumed their homeward way, Benjie was moved to seek to impress his own merits. “I hed considerable attention paid ter my words whenst settin’ on the jury, ’Ditha. They all kem round ter my way of thinkin’ whenst they heard me talk.”
“Waal, I don’t follow thar example,” Editha retorted. “The more I hear ye talk, the bigger fool ye seem ter be. Hyar ye air now thinkin’ it will make me set more store by ye ter know that eleven slack-twisted town-men hearkened ter yer speech. Ye suits me, an’ always did. I’d think of ye jes the same if every juryman hed turned ag’in’ ye, stiddier seein’ the wisdom of yer words.”
A genial glow sprang up in Benjie’s heart, responsive to the brusk sincerities of this fling, and when the house was reached, and the flames again flared, red and yellow from the hickory logs in the deep chimney-place, the strings of scarlet peppers swinging from the ceiling, the gaily flowered curtains fluttering at the windows, the dogs fawning about their feet on the hearthstone, Editha’s exclamation seemed the natural sequence of their arrival.
“Home fer sure!” she cried with a joyous nesting instinct, and reckless of inconsistency. “An’, lawsy! don’t it look good an’ sensible! ’Pears like Shaftesvul is away, away off yander in a dream, an’ ’Roy Tresmon’, with his big white teeth an’ fine clothes an’ rheumatic teeter, is some similar ter a nightmare, though I oughter hev manners enough ter remember them beads on that cape, an’ speak accordin’. I be done with travelin’, Benjie, an’ nex’ time ye set on a jury ye’ll hev ter do it by yer lone.”
The firelight showed the cheery radiance of the smile with which the old “moth-eaten lovyers” gazed at each other, and the quizzical expression of the little Cupid delineated on the mantelpiece, peering out at them from beneath the bandage of his eyes, his useless wings spread above the hearth he hallowed.