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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Wa'al," he replied after a moment, lowering the paper and looking gravely at his companion over his glasses, "next to the deakin's religious experience, them of lawin' an' horse-tradin' air his strongest p'ints, an' he works the hull on 'em to once sometimes." The evasiveness of this generality was not lost on Mrs. Bixbee, and she pressed the point with, "Did ye? an' will he?"
Bixbee to look up at him inquiringly, which look the speaker answered with a nod, saying, "Me an' him had a little go-round to-day." "You hain't had no words, hev ye?" she asked anxiously. "Wa'al, we didn't have what ye might call words. I was jest tryin' a little experiment with him."
Bixbee, throwing up her hands, and even from Mrs. Cullom was drawn a "Well, I never!" "Fact," said David, "they was married yestidy forenoon. Squire Parker done the job. Dominie White wouldn't have nothin' to do with it!" "Squire Parker 'd ortter be 'shamed of himself," said Mrs. Bixbee indignantly.
"Manners!" ejaculated Mrs. Bixbee. "I guess not," said John, smiling and much amused. Presently Sairy appeared with four tumblers which she distributed, and was followed by David bearing a bottle. He seated himself and began a struggle to unwire the same with an ice-pick. Aunt Polly leaned forward with a look of perplexed curiosity. "What you got there?" she asked.
"An' the other part on't was," he said, "she an' that young feller of our'n was walkin' together, an' a putty slick pair they made too." "Ain't she purty?" said Mrs. Bixbee. "They don't make 'em no puttier," affirmed David; "an' they was a nice pair. I couldn't help thinkin'," he remarked, "what a nice hitch up they'd make." "Guess the' ain't much chance o' that," she observed.
"David sets all the store in the world by him," stated Mrs. Bixbee to a friend, "though he don't jest let on to not in so many words. He's got a kind of a notion that his little boy, if he'd lived, would 'a' ben like him some ways. I never seen the child," she added, with an expression which made her visitor smile, "but as near 's I c'n make out f'm Dave's tell, he must 'a' ben red-headed.
"Amri give a very good reason for't," said David with an air of conviction, and then he broke into a laugh. "Ef you got anythin' to tell, tell it," said Mrs. Bixbee impatiently. "Wa'al," said David, taking the last of his pudding into his mouth, "if you insist on't, painful as 't is. I heard Dick Larrabee tellin' 'bout it.
"I've always heard it was dreadful expensive," remarked Mrs. Cullom. "Let me give you some," said John, reaching toward her with the bottle. Mrs. Cullom looked first at Mrs. Bixbee and then at David. "I don't know," she said. "I never tasted any." "Take a little," said David, nodding approvingly. "Just a swallow," said the widow, whose curiosity had got the better of scruples.
Bixbee, looking up at her brother, "thet after all the' was anythin' you said to the deakin thet he could ketch holt on." "The' wa'n't nothin'," he replied. "The only thing he c'n complain about's what I didn't say to him." "Hain't he said anythin' to ye?" Mrs. Bixbee inquired. "He, he, he, he! He hain't but once, an' the' wa'n't but little of it then." "How?"
But if I want to say to him, after tryin' him a spell, that I guess me an' him don't seem likely to hitch, we'll both take it easier if we ain't livin' in the same house. I guess I'll take a look at the Trybune," said David, unfolding that paper. Mrs. Bixbee went on with her needlework, with an occasional side glance at her brother, who was immersed in the gospel of his politics.
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