her back up.

He got so worked up over her not strikin' that a-way one day thet he
stiffened out in a spell, then an' there.

You say they ain't apt to be fatal, doctor--them spells!

Well--but you ain't never saw him in one yet. They're reg'lar
death-spells, doctor.

Tell you the truth, they was the 'casion of us j'inin' the church, them
spells was.

Says I to wife--standin' beside him one day, and he black in the
face--says I, "Wife," says I, "I reckon you an' me better try to live
mo' righteously 'n what we've been doin', or he'll be took from us."
An', sir, the very nex' communion we both up an' perfessed. An' I
started sayin' grace at table, an' lef' off the on'y cuss-word I ever
did use, which was "durn." An', maybe I oughtn't to say it, but I miss
that word yet. I didn't often call on it, but I always knowed 't was
there when needed, and it backed me up, somehow--thess the way knowin' I
had a frock-coat in the press has helped me wear out ol' clo'es. I ain't
never had on that frock-coat sence I was married in it seventeen year
ago; but, sir, ever sence I've knew the moths had chawed it up, th'
ain't been a day but I've felt shabby.


[Illustration: "She does make 'im _so_ contented an' happy."]