Then proceedin agin, says I:
“Fust, there is the county commissioners, the bridges and iron tubes.”
Jobe flipped his thumb and fingers, and held up his hand like they do in school.
Says I: “Whats you want?” cross like.
“Betsy, if you are a goin into that bridge bizness, with them iron tubes and all, I would like to have my say as well as you,” says he.
“That depends,” says I. “If you act with sense and dont git mad, you can have your say. If you flare up Ile silence you, sir.”
“Are you mad, Betsy?” says he, cowed like.
“No, Ime not mad. Ime in airnest,” says I, takin up the cakes and settin them on the table. Then I sot down in a chair in front of Jobe, still holdin the dipper. Says I:
“Now, Jobe, who is agent for a iron bridge company in this county but a Republican county commissioner?
“Who went over into a adjoining county and offered to sell a iron bridge for several dollars per foot less than he charged his own county for the same kind of a bridge? Who done this but a Republican county commissioner?