"They were married in June," continued Sally. "No, 'twa'n't; 'twas the
last o' May. May thirty-fust--no, May 'ain't but thirty days, has it?"

"'Thirty days hath September,'" quoted Mrs. Giles, with importance.
"That's about all I've got left o' my schoolin', Miss Flint. May's got
thirty-one days, sure enough."

"Call it the thirty-fust, then. It's nigh enough, anyway. Well, Josh
Marden an' Lyddy Ann Crane was married, an' for nine year they lived
like two kittens. Old Sperry Dyer, that wanted to git Lyddy himself,
used to call 'em cup an' sasser, 'There they be,' he'd say, when he
stood outside the meetin'-house door an' they drove up; 'there comes
cup an' sasser.' Lyddy was a little mite of a thing, with great black
eyes; an' if Josh hadn't been as tough as tripe, he'd ha' got all wore
out waitin' on her. He even washed the potaters for her, made the
fires, an' lugged water. Scairt to death if she was sick! She used to
have sick headaches, an' one day he stopped choppin' pine limbs near
the house 'cause the noise hurt Lyddy Ann's head. Another time, I
recollect, she had erysipelas in her face, an' I went in to carry some
elder-blows, an' found him readin' the Bible. 'Lord!' says I, 'Josh;
that's on'y Genesis! 'twon't do the erysipelas a mite o' good for you
to be settin' there reading the be'gats! You better turn to
Revelation.' But 'twa'n't all on his side, nuther. 'Twas give an' take
with them. It used to seem as if Lyddy Ann kind o' worshipped him.
'Josh' we all called him; but she used to say 'Joshuay,' an' look at
him as if he was the Lord A'mighty."

"My! Sally!" said timid Mrs. Spenser, under her breath; but Sally gave
no heed, and swept on in the stream of her recollections.