“G-goin' to town meetin' Tuesday—g-goin' to town meetin' Tuesday—Sam'l?” says Jethro.
“I was callatin' to, Jethro.”
“Democrat—hain't ye—Democrat?”
“Callate to be.”
“How much store do ye set by that hide?”
Samuel rubs his nose. Then he names a price that the hide might fetch, under favorable circumstances, in Boston—Jethro does not wince.
“Who d'ye callate to vote for, Sam'l?”
Samuel rubs his nose.
“Heerd they was a-goin' to put up Fletcher and Amos Cuthbert, an' Sam Price for Moderator.” (What a convenient word is they when used politically!) “Hain't made up my mind, clear,” says Samuel.
“C-comin' by the tannery after town meetin'?” inquired Jethro, casually.