k in work,--things kind o'
comin' in a heap together. There's Mis' Cap'n Broad's andirons, she sent
word she must have 'em to-night; and there's Lady Lothrop, she wants her
warmin'-pan right off; they can't non' on 'em wait a minit longer. I've
ben a drivin' and workin' all day like a nigger-slave. Then there was
Jeduth Pettybone, he brought down them colts to-day, and I worked the
biggest part o' the mornin' shoein' on 'em; and then Jeduth he said he
couldn't make change to pay me, so there wa'n't nothin' comin' in for
't; and then Hepsy she kep' a jawin' at me all dinner-time 'bout that.
Why, I warn't to blame now, was I? I can't make everybody do jest right
and pay regular, can I? So ye see it goes, boys, gettin' yer bread by
the sweat o' your brow; and sometimes sweatin' and not gettin' yer
bread. That 'ere's what I call the _cuss_, the 'riginal cuss, that come
on man for hearkenin' to the voice o' his wife,--that 'ere was what did
it. It allers kind o' riles me up with Mother Eve when I think on't. The
women hain't no bisness to fret as they do, 'cause they sot this 'ere
state o' things goin' in the fust place."

"But, Sam, Aunt Lois and Aunt Nabby are both going over to Mis'.
Mehitabel's to tea. Now, you just come over and eat supper with us and
tell us a story, do."

"Gone out to tea, be they?" said Sam, relaxing his hammering, with a
brightening gleam stealing gradually across his lanky visage. "Wal, that
'ere looks like a providential openin', to be sure. Wal, I guess I'll
come. What's the use o' never havin' a good time? Ef you work yourself
up into shoestrings you don't get no thanks for it, and things in this
world's 'bout as broad as they is long: the women 'll scold, turn 'em
which way ye will. A good mug o' cider and some cold victuals over to
the Dea-kin's 'll kind o' comfort a feller up; and your granny she's
sort o' merciful, she don't rub it into a fellow all the time like Miss
Lois."

"Now, let's see, boys," said Sam, when a comfortable meal of pork and
beans had been disposed of, and a mug of cider was set down before the
fire to warm. "I s'pect ye'll like to hear a Down-East story to-night."

Of course we did, and tumbled over each other in our eagerness to get
the nearest place to the narrator.

Sam's method of telling a story was as leisurely as that of some modern
novel-writers. He would take his time for it, and proceed by easy
stages. It was like the course of a dreamy, slow-moving river