“He would rather pay seven per cent. than six, in order to support a sound money basis.”
Well, arter we arranged for the money we went to the court-house, and from the time we got there till I got out I heerd nothin but “costs,” “costs,” “costs.” They had it all charged to Jobe. Not one cent was charged to Mr. Richer. There was the clerk’s costs, and the sheriff’s costs, and the auditor’s costs, and the judge’s costs, and supeena costs, and writ costs, and mileage costs, and the Lord only knows what all or who all had costs charged up agin Jobe. The very fellers Jobe had helped to elect had jist as big bills charged up as the law would allow, and some bigger, and nary one of them was willin to knock off a cent. We had to pay it or be foreclosed, and we had to take our legicy money to pay it with—the money that poor, dear, dead Aunt Jane had worked so hard to save.
Well, when we got the costs all paid, we then begin to draw up papers, and sign and acknowledge, and read and reread of papers, to git the money from the Canal Dover banker.
One feller told Jobe and the other fellers to go out of the room till he examined me seperate and apart, at which I became insulted and up and says, says I:
“‘Law or no law,’ says I.”
“No, you wont, sir; no man will examine me seperate and apart or any other way in the absence of Jobe Gaskins.”
“The law requires it,” says he.
“Law or no law,” says I, “Ile not submit. I have submitted to law instid of justice; Ive submitted to law instid of right; Ive submitted to law instid of humanity, but when it comes to submittin to law instid of decency, Betsy Gaskins demurs.”
But arter they explained that he jist wanted to read and explain the mortgage to me, I even submitted to law agin.