hope if it was the sun
'n' he ever takes it into his head to draw another of my nails, that he
'll either draw it completely out or leave it completely in, for I know
as I never want to come down from another ridge-pole by way of another
nail--not while I 'm alive anyhow."
A short pause and a long sigh. Mrs. Lathrop sighed, too.
"Then come the bill from the carpenter 'n' from young Doctor Brown, 'n'
for raisin' the anvil, 'n' I was hardly onto _my_ legs before Mr. Dill's
horse quit his hind ones. Mr. Weskin was up 'n' doin' as usual 'n'
advised bringin' a joint suit with the blacksmith for the anvil 'n' me
for the crick, but even if I was helpless the blacksmith wa' n't goin'
to be sued if he could do anything else, 'n' he brung Mr. Dill up to see
if we could n't arbitrate ourselves. Mr. Dill 's always been very nice
to me, but that wheat-fly made him so mad to be paid something by
somebody that it took the blacksmith 'n' me and four glasses of root
beer to bring him to reason. In the end he said if the blacksmith would
shoe everything he owned till it died 'n' if I would put up Lucy's
currants till I died that he 'd call them two legs straight. We wrote a
paper 'n' signed it 'n' I went to bed, 'n' seemed like my trials were
certainly more than any mortal could stand under, particularly when you
consider that a good deal of the time I had n't been able to sit down.
"I don't see why any one should be surprised over me lookin' worried. It
says in the Bible that if you 'n' Mohamet ain't on the mountain you 're
bound to have the mountain 'n' Mohamet both on you, 'n' I must say I
believe it's true. I 've had to take the ten dollars as I never touch,
'n' the ten as I never will touch, 'n' the ten as I never will touch so
help me Heaven--'n' spend 'em all. 'N' I don't know what I am goin' to
do now, I 'm sure. Bein' yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, you can't in reason be
expected to understand what it is to me to have no one but you to turn
to. You 've got your good points, but you ain't no hand to have ideas
nor yet to advise. I 've been slow in comin' to that view of you, but I
've got to it at last, 'n' got over it, 'n' I 'm walkin' alone now on
the further side."
Mrs. Lathrop looked apologetic, but remained tritely silent. Susan
backed away from the fence.
"It 's gettin' damp," she said; "you 've got rheumatism anyway, so you
don't care if you take cold, but I ain't very anxious to, 'n' so I think
we 'd ought to go in."
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