talk; haint got de gif' of de tongue which Saul, suhname Paul, speaks of
in de Scripcheh--don't possess hit, seh."

"She must be a very nice person to live with," I remarked.

"Well, y-e-es, seh," replied Thomas, after reflecting awhile. "I hain't
got nuth'n' 'g'in' Ailse; she's quite, an' ohdaly, a good cook, an'
laundriss, an' she's a lady,[1] an' all that, but sh' ain't not to say
what you'd call a giftid 'oman."

"Like Sister Mary Ann Jinkins, eh?"

"_Egg_-zac'ly, seh. Mist' Dunkin, you put hit kehrec', seh. Ailse hain't
possessed with none of the high talence, cain't exhoht, naw sing with
fehveh, naw yit lead in praieh; heh talence is mos'ly boun' up in
napkins--as Scripcheh say--mos'ly boun' up in napkins; foh I do' deny
she kin do up all kines o' table-linen, she kin indeed. Naw, seh, I
cain't say I got nuth'n' 'g'in' Ailse."

He was, I think, the worst manager of finances that I have ever known.
He cleaned all the offices in our building, and earned, as near as I
could estimate, about thirty-five dollars a month. Three of his four
children were self-supporting, and his wife was honest and industrious,
taking in washing, and getting well paid for her work. Yet, he was
perpetually in debt, and his wages were always overdrawn. Whenever I
came into the office after my two-o'clock lunch, and found him seated on
his wooden chair, in the corner, gazing absently out at the dingy
chimneys opposite--apparently too abstracted to observe my entrance, I
knew I had only to go to my desk to find, placed in a conspicuous
position thereon, a very small, dirty bit of paper, with these words