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Mrs. P. So you be, Jonathan.

J. And I want, to dress as well. So I’ve made up my mind to go to Bostown, and go into business there.

Dea. P. What sort of business?

J. As to that, I aint partic’lar. Anything that I can make money by.

Dea. P. Perhaps you’ll lose it. They’re pooty sharp in Bostown, I’ve heard tell. Most likely you’d get cheated out of all you’ve got.

Mrs. P. Yes, Jonathan, listen to what your dad says; he’s had more experience than you hev.

J. He don’t Know much about Bostown, anyway.

Dea. P. (complacently). Yes, Jonathan, I know a good deal about the city. I’ve been there three times. Fust time was just after me and your mother was married.

Mrs. P. Thirty-one years ago.

Dea. P. Yes, Almiry, thirty-one year. Then again, I went down to sell a yoke of oxen for Squire Peabody.

J. That time you had your pocket picked, and had to borrow money to git home.

Dea. P. (coughing). Ahem! yes, I believe it was that time. Then again, I went seven year ago, and stayed to the Mechanics’ Fair. That are was a great sight.