declared it was the last he'd ever have to do with her, and afore he'd ask
a favor of her, he took a horrid oath, he'd see hisself a-drownin' in that
dock fust. I hated to hear him swear that way, for, sez I, 'Young man, you
may get there yet, and you may be glad to have Stanshy's help.' Then he
took a barrel of fish he was fillin', and he was so mad he rolled the
whole mess into the water, sayin' he would have nothin' to do with any
thing that had touched Aunt Stanshy's barn. I asked him why he didn't then
throw himself over! That touched him up, and he grabbed his knives and
pitched them into the dock. It was a queer sight to see them fish in that
barrel floatin' away. But then the rum was in him and maddened him. When
he had left, it was Aunt Stanshy's turn to do suthin'. I heard it all, for
I was in the yard doin' a few chores for Stanshy. Fust, there was a slam
in the barn chamber. I jest slipped up them stairs and peeked over the
edge of the floor. Stanshy had pulled the shutter in with a vengeance.
Then she hooked it and drove the nails over the hook as tight as bricks. O
she is a woman of 'mazin' vigor, Stanshy is, when she gets agoin'. She
came down stairs and she fastened up this door, and then I seed her
fumblin' in her pocket, and, pullin' out a piece of chalk, she began to
write. When Stanshy had finished, of course, I was at my chores agin very
busily engaged. Well, since that day, there has been silence between
Stanshy and Tim like that round the old tombstones in the church-yard. I
hope some day it will be different."

With this benevolent wish, Simes closed.

"A bad scrape," remarked Charlie.

"Yes, people ought not to drink so much," said the abstemious and ascetic
Simes. "They ought to stop this side of a drop too much."