he, "a little rain, more or less, hain't a-goin' to
hender a man from meditatin'."

I was wore out, and says I, "Do you stop meditatin' this minute, Josiah
Allen!"

Says he, "I won't stop, Samantha. I let you have your way a good deal of
the time; but when I take it into my head to meditate, you hain't
a-goin' to break it up."

Jest at that minute they called to me from the shore to come that minute
to find some of my dishes. And we had to start off. But oh! the gloom of
my mind that was added to the lameness of my body. Them strange motions
and looks of Josiah wore on me. Had the sufferin's of the night, added
to the trials of the day, made him crazy? I thought more'n as likely as
not I had got a luny on my hands for the rest of my days.

And then, oh, how the sun did scald down onto me, and the wind took the
smoke so into my face that there wasn't hardly a dry eye in my head. And
then a perfect swarm of yellow wasps lit down onto our vittles as quick
as we laid 'em down, so you couldn't touch a thing without runnin' a
chance to be stung. Oh, the agony of that time! the distress of that
pleasure exertion! But I kep' to work, and when we had got dinner most
ready I went back to call Josiah again. Old Miss Bobbet said she would
go with me, for she thought she see a wild turnip in the woods there,
and her Shakespeare had a awful cold, and she would try to dig one to
give him. So we started up the hill again. He sot in the same position,
all huddled up, with his leg under him, as uncomfortable a lookin'
creeter as I ever see. But when we both stood in front of him, he
pretended to look careless and happy, and smiled that sick smile.

Says I, "Come, Josiah Allen; dinner is ready."

"Oh, I hain't hungry," says he. "The table will probable be full. I had
jest as lieves wait."

"Table full!" says I. "You know jest as well as I do that we are eatin'
on the ground. Do you come and eat your dinner this minute."

"Yes, do come," says Miss Bobbet; "we can't get along without you!"

"Oh!" says he, with a ghastly smile, pretending to joke, "I have got
plenty to eat here--I can eat muskeeters."

The air was black with 'em, I couldn't deny it.

"The muskeeters will eat you, more likely," says I. "Look at your face
and hands; they are all covered with 'em."

"Yes, they have eat considerable of a dinner out of me, but I don't
begrech 'em. I hain't small enough, nor mean enough, I hope, to begrech
'em one good meal."

Mis