Читать книгу I don't know, do you? онлайн

12 страница из 22

In the old days, we used to hear a great deal about judgments. A certain honest, good-natured, old farmer in New Hampshire, who was a freethinker, but had a very pious wife, lost many cattle when the black tongue was an epidemic in the State.

One day the hired man came in and told him the red oxen were dead.

"Are they?" said the old man. "Well, they were 'breechy cusses.' Take off their hides and carry them down to Fletcher's. They will bring the cash."

An hour or so later the man came back with the news that Lineback and his mate were both dead.

"Are they?" said the old man. "Well, I took them of B—— to save a bad debt that I never expected to get. Take the hides down to Fletcher's. They will bring the cash."

After the lapse of another hour the man came back to tell him that the nigh brindle was dead.

"Is he?" said the old man. "Well, he was a very old ox. Take off his hide and send it down to Fletcher's. It is worth cash and will bring more than two of the others."

Hereupon his wife reminded him that his loss was a judgment of Heaven upon him.