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And I hearn ’em a talkin’ about Uncle Noah, and Uncle Darius, and Cousin Melinda, and Sophronia Ann, and Aunt Marrier and her children—and lots more that I had never hearn of, or had forgot if I had.

They seemed to be a takin’ solid comfort, though I see that Cousin John Richard every time he got a chance would kinder preach on ’em.

If there wuz a death amongst ’em that they talked over, John Richard would, I see, instinctively and onbeknown to himself preach a little funeral sermon on ’em, a first-rate one, too, though flowery, and draw quite a lot of morals. Wall, I thought to myself, they are a takin’ sights of comfort together, and I am glad on it. I dearly love to see my pardner happy.

When all of a sudden, jest as I had got my sponge all wet up, and everything slick, and I wuz a washin’ my hands to the sink, I see there wuz a more excited, voyalent axent a ringin’ out in my pardner’s voice, I see he wuz a gettin’ het up in some argument or other, and I hurried and changed my gingham bib apron for a white one, and took my knittin’ work and hastened into the room, bein’ anxious to avert horstilities, and work for peace.