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"Found dead in 's bed, Sat'day morning," Master Gammon added, and, warmed upon the subject, went on: "He's that stiff, folks say, that stiff he is, he'll have to get into a rounded coffin: he's just like half a hoop. He was all of a heap, like. Had a fight with 's bolster, and got th' wust of it. But, be 't the seizure, or be 't gout in 's belly, he's gone clean dead.
De gents, dey wuz a co'tin, but Miss Meadows, she don't wanter marry none un um, en needer duz de gals, en likewise dey don't wanter have um pester'n 'roun. Las', one Chuseday, Miss Meadows, she tole um dat ef dey come down ter her house de nex' Sat'day evenin', de whole caboodle on um 'ud go down de road a piece, whar der wuz a big flint rock, en de man w'at could take a sludge-hammer en knock de dus' out'n dat rock, he wuz de man w'at 'ud git de pick er de gals.
The child's sleepy eyes popped wide open at this astounding command. "Ain't this-here Wednesday?" he asked sharply. "Yes; to-day is Wednesday. Hurry up or your water will get cold." "Well, me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln jest washed las' Sat'day. We ain't got to wash no mo' till nex' Sat'day," he argued. "Oh, yes," said his relative; "you must bathe every day."
"Who are you in mourning for, auntie?" asked Margaret. "My ol' man, Miss Margret. Happened so lucky! He jest died Sat'day night, an' we buried him on Sunday, an' here I am goin' round on Monday, not losin' any time. Happened so lucky!" Jim went into spasms of merriment over the economy of the incident. The Whitneys had moved in May, to the great regret of everybody.
"My gosh! I'll say it does. Sounds like a Sat'day night row in a Second Av'noo saloon, except there ain't no shootin'. Guess you boys have some night life, too, even if ye are away back in the bush." "Time for us to move, Tim," laughed Knowlton. "It'll be dark in no time. Joao, will you have our baggage moved to the hotel?"
"The Lord knows; I don't." "And is THAT what they're crying for in there? because they've got to go?" "Sure!" "But isn't there anything, anywhere, that can be done to stop it?" "I don't see how, kid, not unless some one ponies up with the money 'fore next Sat'day, an' a thousand o' them things don't grow on ev'ry bush," he finished, gently patting the coin in his hand.
"This is a s'prise party, Miz Carter," began Jane Duncannon laughing, "We all brought our work along and can't stay but a minute, but we got an idea an' couldn't keep it till Ladies' Aid. You got a minute to spare? Go get your knitting and set down. Now! It's Miz'Severn's birthday next Sat'day an' we thought 'twould be nice to get her a present. What do you think about it?" Mrs.
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