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"M'sieu' Peaslee he'll got hen-rouse? First tam Ah'll was heard of it, me. Fine t'ing for have hen-rouse, fine t'ing for M'sieu' Peaslee. Ah'll t'ink heem for be lucky, M'sieu' Peaslee. But Ah'll ain't know it. Ah'll ain't see nossin' of it, no, seh!" and Pete smiled innocently round at the enigmatic faces of the jurymen. "Mr.
"Don't care if 't was bird shot!" came Abijah's snapping tones. "Don't care if 't was pin-heads; principle's the same." "It is, it is!" admitted Solomon, in his soul. "Well," said Hiram, with a common sense in which Mr. Peaslee took comfort, "the practical effect is mighty different. Gentlemen," he added to the jurors, "I can't see that we've got any call to go any further with this.
Peaslee was an unsuspected director in the bank, and a shrewd user of the chances for profitable investment which her husband's association with the "bank crowd" opened to her. As for Mr. Peaslee, he did not know that he himself was not the business head of the house; and his garden, his chickens, and his pleasant loafing in the bank window kept him contentedly occupied.
While at Gilmanton, General Charles H. Peaslee, then member of Congress from the Concord congressional district, offered him the appointment of acting midshipman to fill a vacancy at the Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland, which, after some hesitation, his parents permitted him to accept, and he was withdrawn from Gilmanton and sent to Concord to prepare for entrance at Annapolis, under a private tutor.
"Peaslee, where were you when that shot was fired?" asked Farnsworth, and as he spoke he turned and looked toward Solomon, whose seat was some three or four places to his left, on the same side of the table. Had the question not been uttered, it would have died upon his lips, so much surprised was he at what he saw. Mr.
Producing an enormous wallet very worn and very flat from his cavernous pocket, he deliberately searched until he found a Canadian ten-cent piece, and adding to it enough to make up the price, handed it to Potter, and left the store. Mr. Peaslee, who remembered no gift from his father other than a very occasional big copper cent, thought himself pretty generous.
His wife began the moment she saw him. "Well, of all the crazy carryings on!" she cried. "What's the Ed'ards boy firin' off guns for, right under peaceable folks' windows? I'm goin' to speak to Mr. Ed'ards right off." "Now don't ye, Sarepty, now don't ye!" said Mr. Peaslee, in alarm.
There was nothing else but the stew, of course, but it lent a gala air to the whole kitchen. "Why, Sarepty, Sarepty!" he said to his wife. "You goin' to be arrested?" asked Mrs. Peaslee, sharply.
"Dretful ha'sh man, dretful ha'sh!" Mr. Peaslee muttered to himself. "Nice, likely boy as ever was. If I had a boy like that, I swan I wouldn't treat him so con-sarned mean!" He turned away much shocked, and saw the Calico Cat watching him ironically from the chicken-house. "Drat that cat!" said he. "I ain't goin' to stay round here not with that beast grinning at me."
"Say, Cyrus," he said to the postmaster, "kinder weigh up this consignment for me, will ye?" The postmaster weighed the box. "That will cost you six cents," he said. "Thank ye," returned Mr. Peaslee, and dropping the box into his deep pocket, departed. Half a dozen eggs more to get it to his next-door neighbor! "'T ain't right," he muttered, "'t ain't right."
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