became too pronounced, "Parson Simpson's a smart
man; but I tell ye, it's kind o' discouragin'. Why, he said our state
and condition by natur war just like this: We war clear down in a well
fifty feet deep, and the sides all round nothin' but glare ice; but we
war under immediate obligations to get out, 'cause we war free,
voluntary agents. But nobody ever had got out, and nobody would, unless
the Lord reached down and took 'em. And whether he would or not nobody
could tell; it was all sovereignty. He said there warn't one in a
hundred, not one in a thousand, not one in ten thousand, that would be
saved. 'Lordy massy,' says I to myself, 'ef that's so they're any of 'em
welcome to my chance.' And so I kind o' ris up and come out, 'cause I'd
got a pretty long walk home, and I wanted to go round by South Pond and
inquire about Aunt Sally Morse's toothache."...

"This 'ere Miss Sphyxy Smith's a rich old gal, and 'mazin' smart to
work," he began. "Tell you, she holds all she gets. Old Sol, he told me
a story 'bout her that was a pretty good un."

"What was it?" said my grandmother.

"Wal, ye see, you 'member old Parson Jeduthun Kendall that lives up in
Stonytown; he lost his wife a year ago last Thanksgivin', and he thought
'twar about time he hed another; so he comes down and consults our
Parson Lothrop. Says he: 'I want a good, smart, neat, economical woman,
with a good property. I don't care nothin' about her bein' handsome. In
fact, I ain't particular about anything else,' says he. Wal, Parson
Lothrop, says he: 'I think, if that's the case, I know jest the woman to
suit ye. She owns a clear, handsome property, and she's neat and
economical; but she's no beauty!' 'Oh, beauty is nothin' to me,' says
Parson Kendall; and so he took the direction. Wal, one day he hitched up
his old one-hoss shay, and kind o' brushed up, and started off
a-courtin'. Wal, the parson come to the house, and he war tickled to
pieces with the looks o' things outside, 'cause the house is all well
shingled and painted, and there ain't a picket loose nor a nail wantin'
nowhere.

"'This 'ere's the woman for me,' says Parson Kendall. So he goes up and
raps hard on the front door with his whip-handle. Wal, you see, Miss
Sphyxy she war jest goin' out to help get in her hay. She had on a pair
o' clompin' cowhide boots, and a pitchfork in her hand, jest goin' out,
when she heard the rap. So she come jest as she was to the front door.
Now, you know Parso