“The more I consider that letter up ‘n’ down ‘n’ hind end to, Mrs. Lathrop, the plainer I see ’s Cousin Marion must ‘a’ been a sore ‘n’ abidin’ thorn inside o’ father ‘n’ mother.  Perhaps it was that as give him the paralysis!  The doctor said ‘s it was suthin’ obscure, ‘n’ ’f suthin’ ’s ain’t found out till years after you ’re dead ain’t obscure I don’t know what is.  Anyway I ’ve took my stand ‘n’ it was the only sensible one to take.  This ’s the first chance I ’ve ever had in all my life to get a nice change without payin’ board, ‘n’ so I jus’ sat right down ‘n’ wrote to Cousin Marion ’t ’f it was convenient to her I ’d come to Knoxville ‘n’ spend next Sunday.  She ’s bound to be pleased ‘t bein’ remembered after fifty years, ‘n’ I ’ve got father’s nose, ‘n’ that ‘ll help some, o’ course.  She can’t be worse ’n dead, ‘n’ ’f she’s dead ‘n’ don’t answer I sha’n’t never give the subjeck another thought, f’r I naturally ain’t got very fond o’ her jus’ from findin’ her musty old letter stuck in behind the flap of a trunk ’s I ’ve been achin’ to hack to pieces these last twenty years.  I never went up in my garret without I skinned myself somewhere on that trunk, ‘n’ you know how often I go up garret, Mrs. Lathrop, so it goes without sayin’ ’s I ’ve been considerably skinned first ‘n’ last.  But ’f she sh’d be alive ‘n’ I sh’d get to go there, the Lord knows I certainly shall rejoice to have some o’ my own to talk to, f’r blood is thicker ’n water, ‘n’ although I don’t want to hurt your feelin’s, Mrs. Lathrop, still you can’t in conscience deny ’s you ain’t no conversationalist.  Nobody is that I know hereabouts, neither.  The minister talks some, but I ‘m always thinkin’ how much more I want to tell him things ’n I ever want to hear what he has to say, so I can’t in truth feel ’s his talkin’ gives me much pleasure.  Mrs. Macy ‘s great on gaspin’, but she don’t as a general thing get very far, ‘n’ so the long ‘n’ short o’ the whole thing is ’t if Cousin Marion ain’t a change f’r the better she can’t noways be a change f’r the worst, ‘n’ so I ’ve made up my mind to sail right in ‘n’ risk her.

“I ’ve thought ’s it ’ll be a nice idea to take her father’s cane for a present; it ’ll surely come very handy to her,—­’f she ’s alive a tall,—­’n’ since Mr. Kimball over-persuaded me into buyin’ one o’ them patent carpet-beaters, it ain’t no manner o’ service to me.  Not ’s I ain’t sure ’t I don’t really prefer the cane to the patent, but I ’ve paid for the new thing ‘n’ I ain’t goin’ to go to work to make myself feel ’s I ’ve wasted my money.  The carpet-beater ain ’t up to Mr. Kimball’s talk by long odds, ‘n’ so far from turnin’ into a egg-beater in the wink of your eye like he promised, you ’ve got to grip it fast between your knees ‘n’ get your back ag’in a flour-bin to turn it into anythin’ a tall.  ‘N’ then when it does turn, so far from bein’ a joy it lets up so quick ’t you find yourself most anywhere.  Mrs. Craig was gettin’ her