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Wall, I knew what wuz before me at the first volley of sound. I sez to myself:

“Melinda Ann! Melinda Ann!” and hurried upstairs.

And there she wuz layin’ back on her piller with her eyes rolled up in her head and fixed, and her nuckels clenched.

Wall, I brung her to agin after a long and tejus process, and then agin I see that she sort o’ enjoyed it; and I left her propped up and went down and helped do up the work.

Wall, Peter never stopped playin’ till a late bedtime.

And then I might have slept some at first, only Josiah begun a noise where he left off, a scoldin’ and a jawin’.

And oh! my sufferin’s that I suffered with that man. I reminded him that Peter wuz a relation on his side—no avail.

I brung up his lonesome state.

Josiah said, “He’d ought to be lonesome! He’d ought to be fur away in the middle of the desert or on a island in the depths of the seas. Alone! alone!”

He raved, he swore, he said, “Dumb him!” repeatedly.

You see Josiah hated music anyway, only the very softest, lowest kind; and Peter’ses wuz powerful—powerful and continuous.