afore, and used them all up, and a whole sight of vittals too, the old man hadn’t been well since, and had gone to bed airly.  But, says she, I do wish with all my heart you had a come last night, for we had a most a special supper—­punkin pies and dough-nuts, and apple sarce, and a roast goose stuffed with indian puddin, and a pig’s harslet stewed in molasses and onions, and I don’t know what all, and the fore part of to-day folks called to finish.  I actilly have nothin left to set afore you; for it was none o’ your skim-milk parties, but superfine uppercrust real jam, and we made clean work of it.  But I’ll make some tea, any how, for you, and perhaps, arter that, said she, alterin of her tone, perhaps you’ll expound the Scriptures, for its one while since I’ve heerd them laid open powerfully.  I hant been fairly lifted up since that good man Judas Oglethorp travelled this road, and then she gave a groan and hung down her head, and looked corner-ways, to see how the land lay thereabouts.  The tea kettle was accordingly put on, and some lard fried into oil, and poured into a tumbler; which, with the aid of an inch of cotton wick, served as a make shift for a candle.  Well, arter tea we sot and chatted awhile about fashions, and markets, and sarmons, and scandal, and all sorts o’ things; and, in the midst of it, in runs the nigger wench, screemin out at the tip eend of her voice, oh Missus!  Missus! there’s fire in the Dairy, fire in the Dairy!  I’ll give it to you for that, said the old lady, I’ll give it you for that, you good for nothin hussy, that’s all your carelessness, go and put it out this minit, how on airth did it get there? my night’s milk gone, I dare say; run this minit and put it out and save the milk.  I am dreadful afeard of fire, I always was from a boy, and seein the poor foolish critter seize a broom in her fright, I ups with the tea kettle and follows her; and away we clipt thro’ the entry, she callin out mind the cellar door on the right, take kear of the close horse on the left, and so on, but as I could’nt see nothin, I kept right straight ahead.  At last my foot kotched in somethin or another, that pitched me somewhat less than a rod or so, right agin the poor black critter, and away we went, heels over head.  I heerd a splash and a groan, and I smelt somethin plaguy sour, but I could’nt see nothin; at last I got hold of her and lifted her up, for she didn’t scream, but made a strange kind of choakin noise, and by this time up came Marm Blake with a light.  If poor Beck didn’t let go then in airnest, and sing out, for dear life, its a pity, for she had gone head first into the swill tub, and the tea kettle had scalded her feet.  She kept a dancin right up and down, like one ravin distracted mad, and boohooed like any thing, clawin away at her head the whole time, to clear away the stuff that stuck to her wool.