the squire.

"Ye-e-s; wall, as I was saying, 'beout tradin', none o' yeou ever been
in the tradin' way? Wall, it deon't matter a cent; as I was agoin' to
say, I had hard, hard luck one season--got clean busted all tew smash!
O-o-o! it was _dre-a-a-dful times_; jest abeout the time Gineral Jackson
clapped his _we-toe_ on the hull o' the banks, kersock. Wall, yeou see,
I got broke all tew flinders. My ole hoss died, the sun and rain beat up
my wagon, I sold eout my notions tew a feller that paid me all in
ceounter-fit money, and then he dug eout, as Parson Dodge says, to
undiskivered kedn'try.

"There was only one way abeout it; I was beound to dew somethin',
instead o' goin' to set deown and blubber; and as I layed stretched eout
in bed one Sunday morning, in Marm Smith's tavern, in the cockloft among
the old stuff, I spies a darn'd ole consarn that took my fancy immazin'!
As Deb Brown said, when she 'sperienced rele-gen, I felt my sperrets
raisin' me clean eout o' bed, and eout I beounced, like a pea in a hot
skillet. Deown I goes to Marm Smith; the ole lady was dressed up to
death in her Sunday-go-to-meetin's, and jest as preoud and sassy as her
darn'd ole skin ceould heould in.

"'Marm Smith,' sez I, 'yeou hain't got no ole stuff yeou deon't want tew
sell nor nuthin', dew ye?'

"'_Ab Slamm_,' sez she, plantin' her thumbs on her hip joints, and as
the milishey officer ses on trainin' day, comin' at me, 'right face,'
she spread herself like a clapboard. 'Ab Slamm,' sez she, 'what on airth
possesses yeou to talk o' tradin' on the Sabbath?'

"'Wall,' sez I, 'Marm Smith, yeou needn't take on so 'beout it; I guess
a feller kin ax a question witheout tradin' or breakin' the Sabbath all
tew smash, either! Neow,' says I, 'yeou got some ole plunder up ther in
the cockloft, where yeou stuck me to sleep; 'tain't much use to yeou,
and one article I see I want to trade fur.'

"Wall, we didn't trade _'zactly_. Marm Smith, yeou see, got
dre-e-e-adful relejus 'beout that time--wouldn't let her gals draw ther
breth scacely, and shot her roosters all up in the cellar every Sunday.
Fact, by ginger! Wall, yeou see, Marm Smith were agin tradin' on Sunday,
but she sed I might arrange it with Ben, her barkeeper, and so I got the
instrument, _any heow_."

"What was it, Ab?" inquired the squire.

"Massy sakes, tell us!" says the gals.

"I sha'n't dew it, till I tell the hull abeout it," Ab replied, rather
choosing, like Captain Cutt