my trowsers I tore, a goin' to
see the ruin on the road yesterday; so I takes out Sister Sall's little
needle-case, and sows away till I got them to look considerable jam
agin; 'and then,' sais I, 'here's a gallus button off, I'll jist fix
that,' and when that was done, there was a hole to my yarn sock, so I
turned too and darned that.

"'Now,' sais I, 'how goes it? I'm considerable sharp set. It must be
gettin' tolerable late now.' It wanted a quarter to six. 'My! sakes,'
sais I, 'five hours and a quarter yet afore feedin' time; well if that
don't pass. What shall I do next?' 'I'll tell you what to do,' sais I,
'smoke, that will take the edge of your appetite off, and if they don't
like it, they may lump it; what business have they to keep them horrid
screetchin' infarnal, sleepless rooks to disturb people that way?' Well,
I takes a lucifer, and lights a cigar, and I puts my head up the chimbly
to let the smoke off, and it felt good, I promise _you_. I don't know as
I ever enjoyed one half so much afore. It had a rael first chop flavour
had that cigar.

"'When that was done,' sais I, 'What do you say to another?' 'Well, I
don't know,' sais I, 'I should like it, that's a fact; but holdin' of
my head crooked up chimbly that way, has a' most broke my neck; I've got
the cramp in it like.'

"So I sot, and shook my head first a one side and then the other, and
then turned it on its hinges as far as it would go, till it felt about
right, and then I lights another, and puts my head in the flue again.

"Well, smokin' makes, a feller feel kinder good-natured, and I began to
think it warn't quite so bad arter all, when whop went my cigar right
out of my mouth into my bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burnt
me like a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time, and
I got a crack on the pate from some critter or another that clawed and
scratched my head like any thing, and then seemed to empty a bushel of
sut on me, and I looked like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratch
himself. My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin, or
some such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I could catch it, to
wring its infarnal neck off, that's a fact.

"Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here was to clean and
groom up agin' till all was in its right shape; and a pretty job it was,
I tell you. I thought I never should get the sut out of my hair, and
then never get it out of my brush again,