erd
'er_. An' ef she had o' once-t mentioned me to the Lord confidential
ez a person fitten to commingle with the cherubim an' seraphim, 'stid
of a pore lost sinner not fitten to bresh up their wing-feathers for
'em, I b'lieve I might o' give in. I don't wonder I 'ain't never had a
call to enter the Kingdom on her ricommendation. 'Twouldn't o' been
fair to the innocent angels thet would 'a' been called on to associate
with me. That's the way I look at it.

"An' yit Jinny 'lowed herself thet my _out'ard ac's_ was good, but
bein' ez they didn't spring from a converted _heart_, they was jest
nachel _hypocercy_, an' thet ef I'd o' lied an' stole, _or even
answered her back_, she'd o' had more hope for me, because, sez she,
a 'consistent sinner is ap' to make a consistent Christian.'

"She even tol' me one day--pore Jinny! I can see her face light up now
when she said it--sez she, 'I'm ac-chilly most afeerd _to_ see you
converted, less'n you'll break out in some devilment you hadn't never
thought about before-you're that inconsistent.'

[Illustration: "'I'M AC-CHILLY MOST AFEERD _TO_ SEE YOU CONVERTED'"]

"Sometimes I feel mean to think I don't miss 'er more'n what I do--an'
she so lively, too. Tell the truth, I miss them little devils she used
to print on the butter pads she set at my plate ez a warnin' to me--seem
to me I miss them jest about ez much ez I miss her.

"The nearest I ever _did_ come to answerin' her back--'cept, of co'se,
the time she chastised me--was the way I used regular to heat my
knife-blade good an' hot 'twix' two batter-cakes an' flatten that devil
out _de_lib'rate. But he'd be back nex' day, pitchfork an' all.

"But with it all Jinny loved me--in her own way, of co'se. Doubt if I'll
ever git another to love me ez well; 'n' don't know ez I crave it,
less'n she was different dispositioned.

"I've done paid her all the respec's I know--put up a fine Bible-texted
tombstone for her, an' had her daguerre'type enlarged to a po'tr'it. I
don't know's I'm obligated to do any more, 'cep'n, of co'se, to wait
till the year's out, which, not havin' no young children in need of a
mother, I couldn't hardly do less than do."

It was about a week after this that Ezra sat beside his fire reading his
paper, when his eye happened to fall upon the following paragraph among
the "personals":

"The Claybank Academy continues to thrive under the able management
of Miss Myrtle Musgrove. That accomplished an