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Updated: June 21, 2025
Them passuls of cat's meat that they call sailormen in these days has to be handled, well, the superintendent of a Sunday-school wouldn't be fit for the job, unless he had a little special trainin'." Louada Murilla, the point of her pencil at her lips, caught a vindictive gleam in his eyes. "But it seems awful cruel, some of the things that you you I suppose you had to do 'em, Aaron!
The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul Written by His Affectionate Wife "I reckon that Providunce put her finger on my compass when I steered this way. Louada Murilla," said the Cap'n one day, pausing to relight his pipe. He had insisted on renaming his wife "Louada Murilla," and she had patiently accepted the new name with the resignation of her patient nature.
"Find me that hole I just made in the air and I'll tell you, Cap'n," he added, with bitter irony. "It's it's worse than what I figgered on," remarked the Cap'n, despondently, after a thoughtful pause. "If a woman like Louada Murilla will let herself get fooled and stirred up in that kind of a way by a fly-by-night critter, there ain't much hope of the rest of the neighborhood."
"If you'll put on your bonnet, Mis' Look, we'll all sa'nter acrost to the Cap'n's and see that Louada Murilla gets hers. Near's I can find out, the rules of this special post-office is that all love-letters to us pass through our wives' hands." In the presence of Mrs. Sproul, after the excitement of the dramatic entrance had subsided, the unhappy captive attempted excuses, cringing pitifully.
"What did you say, Aaron?" eagerly asked his wife. "Repeat it over." He smoked awhile. "Louada Murilla," he said, "when I walked onto that platform my heart was goin' like a donkey-engine workin' a winch, there was a sixty-mile gale blowin' past my ears, and a fog-bank was front of my eyes.
He paused suddenly, for he caught sight of three muddy wagons trundling in procession into the yard. In the first one sat Constable Zeburee Nute, his obtrusive nickel badge on his overcoat. Cap'n Sproul looked at Louada Murilla, and she stared at him, and in sudden panic both licked dry lips and were silent. The topic they had been pursuing left their hearts open to terror.
This day he was taking especial interest in the log-books, for he was again collaborating with Louada Murilla in that spasmodic literary effort that she had termed: FROM SHORE TO SHORE The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul Written by His Affectionate Wife
So here's what I done there and then, Louada Murilla: I praised up the voters of Smyrna as bein' the best people on earth and then I told 'em that, havin' an interest in the old town and wantin' to see her sail on full and by and all muslin drawin' and no barnacles of debt on the bottom, I'd donate out of my pocket enough to pay up all them prizes and purses contracted for in the celebration and then I resigned again as first selectman.
Louada Murilla vows and declares she'll get a bill if I don't tell her the truth, and when you've told the truth once and sworn to it, and it don't stick, what kind of a show is a lie goin' to stand, when a man ain't much of a liar?" "If she's goin' to be caught we've got to catch her," insisted Hiram.
This town won't get a chance to yoke me up with your brother Gid and point us out as a steer team named 'Down and Out! He's 'Down' but I ain't 'Out' yet, not by a dam excuse me, Louada Murilla! But I've been mixin' into politics and talkin' political talk." "And I had so hoped you were out of it," she sighed, as she followed him to their repose.
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