se they'll
give out ther invatations to-morrow. Do go, Mr. Crane: it'll chirk you
up and dew you good to go out into society ag'in. They say it's to be
quite numerous. But I guess ther won't be no dancin' nor highty-tighty
dewin's. If I thought ther would be I shouldn't go myself; for I don't
approve on 'em, and couldn't countenance 'em. What do you think Sam
Pendergrass's wife told me? She said how't the widder Jinkins (she 'twas
Poll Bingham) is a-havin' a new gownd made a purpose to wear to the
party,--one of these 'ere flambergasted, blazin' plaid consarns, with
tew awful wide kaiterin' flounces around the skirt. Did you ever! How
reedickilous for a woman o' her age, ain't it? I s'pose she expects t'
astonish the natyves, and make her market tew, like enough. Well, she's
to be pitied. Oh, Mr. Crane, I thought I _should go off_ last night when
I see that old critter squeeze up and hook onto you. How turrible
imperdent, wa'n't it! But seems to me I shouldn't 'a' felt as if I was
obleeged to went hum with her if I'd 'a' ben in your place, Mr. Crane.
She made a purty speech about me to the lectur': I'm 'most ashamed to
tell you on't, Mr. Crane, but it shows what the critter is. Kier says
he heered her stretch her neck acrost and whisper to old Green, "Mr.
Green, don't you think the widder Bedott seems to be wonderfully took up
with _crainiology_?" She's the brazin'-facedest critter 't ever lived;
it does beat all; I never _did_ see her equill. But it takes all sorts
o' folks to make up the world, you know. What did I understand you to
say, Mr. Crane?--a few minnits' conversation with me? Deary me! Is it
anything pertickler, Mr. Crane? Oh, dear suz! how you _dew_ frustrate
me! Not that it's anything oncommon fer the gentlemen to ax to have
private conversations with me, you know; but then--but then--bein' you,
it's different: circumstances alter cases, you know. What was you
a-gwine to say, Mr. Crane?

Oh, no, Mr. Crane, by no manner o' means; 'tain't a minute tew soon for
you to begin to talk about gittin' married ag'in. I am amazed you should
be afeerd I'd think so. See--how long's Miss Crane been dead? Six
months!--land o' Goshen!--why, I've know'd a number of individdiwals get
married in less time than that. There's Phil Bennet's widder 't I was
a-talkin' about jest now,--she 'twas Louisy Perce: her husband hadn't
been dead but _three_ months, you know. I don't think it looks well for
a _woman_ to be in such a hurry;