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"The angel Gabriel hisse'f couldn't mek heads or tails o' whut Hiram means," he said in answer to a question from Abner. "He don't know hisse'f whut he means. He's bittah an' sore ag'in ev'rything an' ev'rybody whut hain't ready to fall on Brothah Stone, an' eat him ha'r an' hide.
Dere's 'flictions dat we kin pray agin an' pray out'n ob, an' dere's oders we jes got ter bar, an' we gits so kinder used to'm at las dat we'd be mo' mis'ble ef dey wuz tooken away. We'se got to take de bittah wid de sweet, but, tank de Lawd! de sweet 'domernate in dis yere fam'ly. Now let's hab some praise an' prar. Vilet, honey, sing de hymn you'se moder lern you."
If it hadn't been for this idiotic woman she and Con would, of course, have eaten their blancmange without. Suddenly the idea came. "I know," she said. "Marmalade. There's some marmalade in the sideboard. Get it, Con." "I hope," laughed Nurse Andrews and her laugh was like a spoon tinkling against a medicine-glass "I hope it's not very bittah marmalayde."
Ah would neveh have raced afteh to-day. It was a whim of an old man to see his colohs once moh among a field of hawses. Ah knew Ah was not of this day. Ah should have known bettah than to become a paht of it even foh a little time. Ah have learned ma lesson, he says, lookin' up at me. 'But you have made it vehy bittah.
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