Wall, jest as I got through with the authoresses letter, and Lodema
Trumble's, Josiah Allen came. And I hurried up the supper. I got it all
on the table while I wuz a steepin' my tea (it wuz good tea). And we sot
down to the table happy as a king and his queen. I don't s'pose queens
make a practice of steepin' tea, but mebby they would be better off if
they did--and have better appetites and better tea. Any way we felt
well, and the supper tasted good. And though Josiah squirmed some when I
told him Lodema wuz approachin' and would be there that very night or
the next day--still the cloud wore away and melted off in the glowin'
mellowness of the hot tea and cream, the delicious oysters and other
good things.

[Illustration: "MY PARDNER ENJOYS GOOD VITTLES."]

My pardner, though, as he often says, is not a epicack, still he duz
enjoy good vittles dretful well and appreciates 'em. And I make a stiddy
practice of doin' the best I can by him in this direction.

And if more females would foller on and cipher out this simple rule, and
get the correct answer to it, the cramp in the right hands of divorce
lawyers would almost entirely disappear.

For truly it seems that _no_ human man _could be_ more worrysome, and
curius, and hard to get along with than Josiah Allen is at times; still,
by stiddy keepin' of my table set out with good vittles from day to day,
and year to year, the golden cord of affection has bound him to me by
ties that can't never be broken into.

He worships me! And the better vittles I get, the more he thinks on me.