lean over an' try it agin, harder'n ever. Scat my ----! I thought I'd
die a-laughin'. I couldn't hardly cluck to the mare when I got ready to
move on. I drove alongside an' pulled up. 'Hullo, deakin,' I says,
'what's the matter?' He looked up at me, an' I won't say he was the
maddest man I ever see, but he was long ways the maddest-lookin' man,
an' he shook his fist at me jest like one o' the unregen'rit. 'Consarn
ye, Dave Harum!' he says, 'I'll hev the law on ye fer this.' 'What fer?'
I says. 'I didn't make it come on to rain, did I?' I says. 'You know
mighty well what fer,' he says. 'You sold me this _damned beast_,' he
says, 'an' he's balked with me _nine_ times this afternoon, an' I'll fix
ye for 't,' he says. 'Wa'al, deakin,' I says, 'I'm 'fraid the squire's
office 'll be shut up 'fore you _git_ there, but I'll take any word
you'd like to send. You know I told ye,' I says, 'that he'd stand
'ithout hitchin'.' An' at that he only jest kind o' choked an'
sputtered. He was so mad he couldn't say nothin', an' on I drove, an'
when I got about forty rod or so I looked back, an' there was the deakin
a-comin' along the road with as much of his shoulders as he could git
under his hat an' _leadin'_ his new hoss. He, he, he, he! Oh, my stars
an' garters! Say, Polly, it paid me fer bein' born into this vale o'
tears. It did, I declare for't!" Aunt Polly wiped her eyes on her apron.

"But, Dave," she said, "did the deakin really say--_that word_?"

"Wa'al," he replied, "if 'twa'n't that it was the puttiest imitation
on't that ever I heard."

"David," she continued, "don't you think it putty mean to badger the
deakin so't he swore, an' then laugh 'bout it? An' I s'pose you've told
the story all over."