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our tea kettle; let it go. 'Tain't no use to try to utilize everything, Mis' Boddington." "Evan Knowlton acts as if he thought differently." "Looks is enough, with some folks," said the farmer; "and she's a pretty enough creatur', take the outside of her. Had ought to be; for I guess that sort o' riggin' costs somethin'--don't it, Mis' Boddington?" "Cost?" said the lady. "Evan Knowlton is a fool if he lets himself be caught by such butterfly's wings. But men _are_ fools when women are pretty; there's no use reasoning against nature." "Wall, Diany," exclaimed Joe Bartlett, now drawing near with _his_ coffee cup,--"how comes you have all the work and other folks all the fun?" "Want some coffee, Joe?" "Fact, I do; that is, supposin' you have got any." "Plenty, Joe. That's what I am here for. Hold your cup. Who are you picking for to-day?" "Wall, _I_ ain't here for fun," said Joe; "there's no mistake about that. I b'lieve in fun too; I do sartain; but I _don't_ b'lieve in scratchin' it into you with blackberry brambles, nor no other. Thank'e, Diany; maybe this'll help me get along with the afternoon." "I never thought you would mind blackberry thorns, Joe." "No more I don't, come in the way o' business," said Joe, sipping his coffee. "Guess I kin stand a few knocks, let alone scratches, when I calculate to have 'em. But I don' know! my notion of pleasure's sun'thin' soft and easy like; ain't your'n? I expect to take scratches--bless you! but I don't call 'em fun. That's all I object to." "Then how come you here, Joe?" "Wall,--" said Joe slowly,--"I've got an old mother hum." "And she wanted some berries?" "She wanted a lot. What the women does with 'em all, beats me. Anyhow, the old lady'll have enough this time for all her wants." "How is she, Joe, to-day?" "Days don't make no difference to my mother, Diany. You know that, don't ye? There don't nothin' come wrong to her. I vow, I b'lieve she kind o' likes it when things is contrairy. I never see her riled by no sort o' thing; and it's not uncommon for _me_ to be as full's I kin hold; but she's just like a May mornin', whatever the weather is. There ain't no scarin' her, either; she'd jest as lieves die as live, I b'lieve, any day." "I daresay she would," said Diana, feeling at the moment that it was not so very wonderful. Life in this world might be so dull as to be not worth living for. "It's a puzzle to me," Joe went on, "which is
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