"Well, I could be namin' two or three others
of the same mind, if I'd take the trouble. It's all sensible enough to
lambaste the women when they don't pick up every virtue that we throw
away, but what's to be expected of 'em, I ax, when all the men sence
Adam have been praisin' the sober kind of gal while they was runnin'
arter the silly? Thar're some among 'em, I reckon, as have reasoned out
to themselves that a man's pursuit speaks louder in the years, arter
all, than his praise. Now, thar's a fine, promisin' farmer, like the
miller gone runnin' loose, mo's the pity."
"A kind heart at bottom," said old Adam, "but he's got a deal of larnin'
to do befo' he'll rest content to bide along quietly in the same world
with human natur."
"Oh, he's like the Revercombs from the beginnin'," protested Solomon,
"slow an' peaceable an' silent until you rouse 'em, but when they're
once roused, they're roused beyond God or devil."
"Is this young Cain or Abel the head of the family?" inquired the
stranger.
"Bless you, no, Mr. Jonathan, he ain't the head--for thar's his brother
Abner still livin'--but, head or tail, he's the only part that counts,
when it comes to that.
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