.

We all spose she hain't forgot Samuel. And they do say that every year
when the day comes round, that he took supper with her for the last
time, she puts a plate on for him--the very one he eat on last---a pink
edged chiny plate, with gilt sprigs, the last one left of her mother's
first set of chiny.

That is what they _say_, I hain't never seen the plate.

It is now about twenty years sense Samuel Danker went to heathen lands.
And as it wuz a man-eatin' tribe he went to preach to, and as he hain't
been heern of from that day to this, it is spozed that they eat him up
some years ago.

But it is thought that Submit hain't gin up hope yet. We spoze so, but
don't know, on account of her never sayin' anything on the subject. But
we judge from the plate.

Wall, as I say (and I have episoded fearfully, fearfully), Submit took
supper with me that night. And after Josiah had put out his horse (he
had been to Jonesville for the evenin' mail, and stopped for us at the
meetin' house on his way back), he took the _World_ out of his pocket,
and perused it for some time, and from that learned the great news that
wimmen wuz jest about to be held up agin, to see if her strength wuz
sufficient to set on the Conference.

And oh! how Josiah Allen went on about it to Submit and me, all the
while we wuz a eatin' supper--and for more'n a hour afterwuds.

CHAPTER XII.

Submit wuz very skairt to heern him go on (she felt more nervous on
account of an extra hard day's work), and I myself wuz beat out, but I
wuzn't afraid at all of him, though he did go on elegant, and dretful
empressive and even skairful.

He stood up on the same old ground that men have always stood up on,
the ground of man's great strength and capability, and wimmen's utter
weakness, helplessness, and incapacity. Josiah enlarged almost wildly on
the subject of how high, how inaccessibley lofty the Conference wuz, and
the utter impossibility of a weak, helpless, fragaile bein' like a women
ever gettin' up on it, much less settin' on it. And then, oh how vividly
he depictered it, how he and every other male Methodist in the land
loved wimmen too well, worshipped 'em too deeply to put such a wearin'
job onto 'em. Oh how Josiah Allen soared up in eloquence. Submit shed
tears, or, that is, I thought she did--I see her wipe her eyes any way.
Some think that about the time the Samuel Danker anniversary comes
round, she is more nervous and deprested. It wuz very