be to bed, for the
purpuss of presentin me with a silver tea sarvice, which our Joowiler
had lent me for the occasion. I writ up an impromptu speech, and
practiced it for over a week, out in my barn, so as to be reddy for the
cerprise.

My 3 oldest darters had agreed to be dressed up in white, representen
the 3 graces--Faith, Hope, & Charity--and arrangin their selfs in a
tabloo in the back parler, they was to throw open the foldin doors at a
signal from me. I also tride to get my wife to rig up; says she:

"Me rig up? No, sir! I wouldent encourage sich a lot of tom foolery to
save your consarned neck. And I know of a sartin Old Noosants who'l
ketch Hail Columbia if he musses up these ere parlers to freely."

The noosants referred to was no doubt the undersined; I know it was.

Mariar was allers full of pet names, and this was one of them.

When she called me pet names, I dident stop to argue with her. It is no
use; shee'l allers have the last word, if she sets up all nite for a
week for it. You mite just as well try to make Bosting fokes think the
hul United States don't resolve around Masserchussetts Bay and Bosting
Common once every 24 times an hour, as to undertake to stop a womans
clack when she gets on a talkin fit.

The appinted nite came, and I was standin behind the winder curten,
peekin out the upper hall winder, anxiusly awaitin the arrival of the
crowd.

All of a sudden a percession, hove in site, headed by a drum and fife.
Their onsartin way of marchin, by gettin their legs mixed all up
together, made me think that by the time they got up to my house, the
painful duty would devolve on to me of goin down and getten their legs
ontangled.

The fifer was continually mistakin his head for a drum stick, as he fell
over and let it strike vilently agin the sheep skin head of the base
drum. Whilst the drummer, hisself, was mistakin evry bodys head for his
musikle instrument, as he dealt out blows rite and left, to all who come
within hittin distance of his intossicated drum sticks.

Arrivin before my domisil, the leeder sung out and says:

"Now boys (hic!) let's rattle up bald head, (hic!) if old
2-and-ninepence don't (hic!) shell out with his 'freshments, we'll
(hic!) smash this 'ere borrered tea sarvice over his (hic!) figger
head." Sayin which he gives the door bell a yank, which was enuff to
pull the roof off from over our heads.

Slippin on my red nite cap, I poked my head out of my winder, and in