along by the breath of the wind and the thunder, clamoring and
demanding the hearer to listen.

Oh! if we were only good enough, only pure enough, what might not
our rapt vision discern?

But we know not where or when the time shall be fully come, but
who, who, shall be the happy soul that shall, at the time, be
listening?

Oh! how deep, how strange the waters wuz, and how I floated away
on 'em, and how I didn't. For there I wuz a settin in my own
rockin' chair and there opposite me sot my own Josiah a whittlin',
for the "World" hadn't come, and he wuz restless and ill at ease,
and time hung heavy on his hands.

There I sot the same Samantha - and the thought of the Smedleys,
the same old Smedleys, was a hantin' of me, the same old hant, and
I says to my Josiah, says I: "Josiah, I can't help thinkin' about
the Smedleys," says I. "What do you think about havin' a pound
party for 'em, and will you take holt, and do your part?"

"Good land, Samantha! Are you crazy? Crazy as a loon? What
under the sun do you want to pound the Smedleys for? I should
think they had trouble enough without poundin' 'em. Why," says
he, "the old woman couldn't stand any poundin' at all, without
killin' her right out and out, and the childern haint over tough
any of 'em. Why, what has got into you? I never knew you to
propose anything of that wicked kind before. I sha'n't have
anything to do with it. If you want 'em pounded you must get