As I sot there waitin' for the tea-kettle to bile (and when I say
bile, I mean bile, I don't, mean simmer) the thought of the
Smedleys would come in. The warm red curtains would keep the
storm out, but they couldn't keep the thought of the children, and
the feeble old grandmother out of the room. They come right in,
through the curtains, and the firelight, and everything, and sot
right down by me and hanted me.

And what curious creeters thoughts be, haint they? and oncertain,
too. You may make all your plans to get away from 'em. You may
shet up your doors and winders, and set with a veil on and an
umbrell up - but good land! how easy they jest ontackle the doors
and windows, with no sounds of ontacklin' and come right in by
you.

First you know there they be right by the side of you, under your
umbrell, under your veil, under your spectacles, a lookin' right
down into your soul, and a hantin' you.

And then agin, when you expect to be hanted by 'em, lay out to,
why, they'll jest stand off somewhere else, and don't come nigh
you. Don't want to. Oncertain creeters, thoughts be, and
curious, curious where they come from, and how.

Why, I got to thinkin' about it the other day, and I got lost,
some like children settin' on a log over a creek a ridin'; there
they be, and there the log is, but they don't seem to be there,
they seem to be a floatin' down the water.

And there I wuz, a settin' in my rockin' chair, and I seemed to be