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"You say this pitcher wasn't there when she was here no, for ef it had 'a' been, I know she'd 'a' took on over it. Th' ain't never been one for sale in Simpkinsville before. They've been several of 'em brought here by families besides the one old Mis' Meredy presided over though that was one o' the first. But wife is forever a-pickin' out purty patterns of 'em in the catalogues.
She wasn't no mo'n a sort o' swingin' ice-pitcher herself, ol' Mis' Meredy wasn't walkin' round the house weekdays dressed in black silk, with a lace cap on her head, an' half insultin' his company thet he'd knowed all his life.
"You ricollec' ol' Mis' Meredy, she used to preside over one thet they had, an' somehow he taken a distaste to her an' to ice-pitchers along with her, an' he don't never lose a chance to express his disgust. When them new folks was in town last year projec'in' about the railroad, he says to me, 'I hope they won't stay, they'd never suit Simpkinsville on earth.
"No wonder I dremp' ol' Mis' Meredy was twins!" he screamed. "Why, h-h-honey," he was nearly splitting his old sides "why, honey, I ain't seen a thing but these two swingin' pitchers all night. They've been dancin' before me them an' what seemed like a pair o' ol' Mis' Meredys, an' between 'em all I ain't slep' a wink." "N-n-either have I. An' I dremp' about ol' Mis' M-m-m-eredy, too.
Ricollec' Jedge Robinson, he used to have one of 'em jest about the size o' this one two goblets an' a bowl an' when I'd go up to the house on a errand for pa, time pa was distric' coroner, the jedge's mother-in-law, ol' Mis' Meredy, she'd be settin' in the back room a-sewin, an' when the black gal would let me in the front door she'd sort o' whisper: 'Invite him to walk into the parlor and be seated. I'd overhear her say it, an' I'd turn into the parlor, an' first thing I'd see'd be that ice-pitcher.
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