"Mebbe she wants to get married," said Hannah Sophia,
in a tone that spoke volumes. "When Parson Perkins come
to this parish, one of his first calls was on Eunice Emery.
He always talked like the book o' Revelation; so says he,
`have you got your weddin' garment on, Miss Emery?' says he.
`No,' says she, `but I ben tryin' to these twenty years.'
She was always full of her jokes, Eunice was!"

"The Emerys was always a humorous family,"
remarked Diadema, as she annihilated a fly with a newspaper.
"Old Silas Emery was an awful humorous man. He used to live
up on the island; and there come a freshet one year,
and he said he got his sofy 'n' chairs off, anyhow!" That was
just his jokin'. He hadn't a sign of a sofy in the house;
't was his wife Sophy he meant, she that was Sophy Swett.
Then another time, when I was a little mite of a thin runnin'
in 'n' out o' his yard, he caught holt o' me, and says he,
`You'd better take care, sissy; when I kill you and two more,
thet'll be three children I've killed!' Land! you couldn't
drag me inside that yard for years afterwards.
. . . There! she's got a fire in the cook-stove; there's a stream o'
smoke comin' out o' the kitchen chimbley. I'm willin'
to bet my new rug she's goin' to be married tonight!"

"Mebbe she's makin' jell'," suggested Hannah Sophia.

"Jell'!" ejaculated Mrs. Jot scornfully. "Do you
s'pose Eunice Emery would build up a fire in the middle o'
the afternoon 'n' go to makin' a jell', this hot day?