wuz
such, that I didn't throw Josiah's waywardness in his face (not much
of any). But if you'll believe it--and I don't spoze you will--he
turned the tables 'round, and blamed me. That is often done by
pardners of both sects, when they feel real guilty, to try to draw
attention off their own misdoin's, by findin' fault with their
pardners. It has been done time and agin, and I spoze will be, as long
as man is man, and woman is woman.

When I told him that I rid down there with Deacon Gansey, that man
acted jealous and mad as a hen. He never liked him, they fell out
years ago about a rail fence, and wuz hurt. But now he acted furious,
and his last words to Bildad wuz:

"I want you to have a funeral for Deacon Gansey before I see you agin,
and I'll pick out the him I want you to sing at his funeral:

"Believein', we rejoice,
To see the cuss removed."

But I spoke right up and sez, "Don't you bury him till he is dead,
Bildad, no matter who tells you to."

And Josiah didn't like that, or acted as if he didn't; mebby he wuz
subterfugin' to draw off attention. Truly, pardners is a mysterious
problem, and it takes sights of wisdom and patience to solve' em, and
sometimes you can't git the right answer to 'em then, male or female.

As we left Surf Avenue I looked back on the blackened ruins of what
had been the fair City of Dreamland, the broken totterin' remains of
that glorious tower, the black tangled masses of iron and steel, the
ruins of the great animal house mixed with the ashes of a hundred and
twenty animals, and I see with my mind's eye that great flat plain of
blackened ruins, all cleared away, and green velvety grass, and trees,
and fountains sprayin' over shrubs, and flowers, and white smooth
paths windin' through the bloom and verdure clear down to the clean
sand of the water's verge. And the high fence of Exclusion that shets
them from other fair parks along the shore removed, thousands and
thousands and thousands of happy children playin' there in the pure
air, takin' in in one summer day enough strength to last 'em through a
crowded, suffocatin', weary week. And grown folks, rich and poor,
tired of city sights and sounds, strollin' about or settin' on
comfortable seats lookin' off on the water, or watchin' the play of
their children, the fresh air blowin' some of their cares and troubles
away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

WE RETURN TO JONESVILLE AND JOSIAH BUIL