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Updated: May 28, 2025
YOU know his tavern was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you was to watch there that night?" "Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I follered Injun Joe to the widder's." "YOU followed him?" "Yes but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks.
It couldn't have been worth more'n five cents, if it wuz worth that." "How do you spell mit, Josiah Allen?" sez I. "Why m-i-t-e, mit." "I should think," sez I, "that that spells mite." "Oh well, when you are a-readin' the Bible, all the best commentaters agree that you must use your own judgment. Mite! What sense is there in that? Widder's mite! There hain't any sense in it, not a mite."
I remembered the widder's mite, how he had interpreted that scriptural incident about that noble female as interpreters will, to suit their own idees as males and how I had argued with him in vain on the mite, and his onscriptural and equinomical views.
A man weighin' close onter two hundred pounds 'd naterally prefer to walk out o' the door, but the widder hauled Johnnie out o' winder." "The widow?" "Mis' Janssen. There was buggy tracks at the foot o' the melon patch, and the widder's missin'. She's put it up to marry my Johnnie. I suspicioned something, but I counted on Johnnie.
"He'd ruther law it any time than have a fair fight, man to man, and that's the kind of a critter I hate." "The widder's lookin' out of the kitchen winder," Hiram announced, "and I'm encouraged to think that mebbe he'll want to shine a little as her protector, and will come over into the garden to save her hen. Then will be your time. He'll be trespassin', and I'll be your witness.
"It would be the devil and repeat for us if the widder's rooster should lick and Bat Reeves standin' and lookin' on," suggested the Cap'n, bodingly.
"Look at this, 'Member!" cried Bolderwood, dragging the trembling surveyor forward. "What a sight this is to blister the eyes of decent men! A poor widder's house burned about her ears and only by the mercy of God were she and her youngsters saved." "The villains!" roared Baker. "And is that one of them?" "He was with the party.
Maybe you took notice o' me a-praying down yonder that the good Lord'd vouchsafe to give us scalps and provender. For our onfaithfulness He's seed fit to withhold the one; but maybe we'll find a raven 'r two, or a widder's mite 'r meal-bar'l, somewheres in this howling wilderness, yit."
It couldn't have been worth more'n five cents, if it wuz worth that." "How do you spell mit, Josiah Allen?" sez I. "Why m-i-t-e, mit." "I should think," sez I, "that that spells mite." "Oh well, when you are a-readin' the Bible, all the best commentaters agree that you must use your own judgment. Mite! What sense is there in that? Widder's mite! There hain't any sense in it, not a mite."
"Joel Whitten's widder's just drawed his pension along o' his bein' in the war o' 1812. ... It's took 'em all these years to fix it. ... Massy sakes! don't some folks have their luck buttered in this world?... She was his fourth wife, 'n' she never lived with him but thirteen days 'fore he up 'n' died. ... It doos seem's if the guv'ment might look after things a little mite closer.... Talk about Joel Whitten's bein' in the war o' 1812!
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