"We mout a knowed somethin wuz a gonter happin," said Abner. "It's
allers darkest jess afore dawn, an 'twas dark nuff tew cut las'
Friday."

"I declar for't," said Peleg Bidwell, "seem's though I never did feel
quite so down-hearted like ez I did las' Friday night, wen we wuz a
talkin it over. I'd hed a bad day on't. Sol Gleason'd been a sassin of
me, an I dassn't say a word, fer fear he'd send me to jail, fer owin
him, an wen I got home She wuz a cryin, fer Gleason'd been thar, an I
dunno what he'd said tew her, and then Klector Williams he told me
he'd hev tew sell the furnicher fer taxes, an by gosh, takin the hull
together seemed 's though thar warn't no place fer a poor man in this
ere world, and I didn' keer ef I lived much longer or not. An naow!
Wal thay ain't no use o' tellin ye what ye know. I seen Gleason on the
street yisday, an he looked like a whipped cur. He hed his tail atween
his legs, I tell yew. I reckon he thort I wuz gonter lick him. It wuz
'Good mornin, Peleg,' ez sweet's sugar, an he didn't hev nothing tew
say baout what I wuz a owin him, no; nor he didn't ass me nothin baout
wy I hedn't been tew work fer him sence Tewsday."

After the haw-haw over Peleg's description had subsided, he added,
with a grin,

"Klector Williams he hain't thort tew call baout them taxes, sence
Tewsday, nuther. Hev any on ye seen nothin on him?"

"He hain't skurcely been outer his haouse," said Obadiah Weeks. "I
on'y see him onct. It was arter dark, an he wuz a slippin over't the
store arter his tod."