fetched," remarked Jabe Slocum, rather sleepily.
"You see, our ellums and maples 'n' all them trees spends part o'
the year in buddin' 'n' gittin' out their leaves 'n' hangin'
em all over the branches; 'n' then, no sooner air they full grown
than they hev to begin colorin' of 'em red or yeller or brown,
'n' then shakin' 'em off; 'n' this is all extry, you might say,
to their every-day chores o' growin' 'n' cirkerlatin' sap, 'n' spreadin'
'n' thickenin' 'n' shovin' out limbs, 'n' one thing 'n' 'nother;
'n' it stan's to reason that the first 'n' hemlocks 'n' them
California redwoods, that keeps their clo'es on right through the year,
can't be so busy as them that keeps a-dressin' 'n' ondressin'
all the time."

"I guess you're 'bout right," allowed Steve,
"but I shouldn't never 'a' thought of it in the world.
What yer takin' out o' that bottle, Jabe? I thought you
was a temperance man."

"I guess he 's like the feller over to Shandagee schoolhouse,
that said he was in favor o' the law, but agin its enforcement!"
laughed Pitt Packard.

"I ain't breakin' no law; this is yarb bitters," Jabe answered,
with a pull at the bottle.

"It's to cirkerlate his blood," said Ob Tarbox;
"he's too dog-goned lazy to cirkerlate it himself."

"I'm takin' it fer what ails me," said Jabe oracularly;
"the heart knoweth its own bitterness, 'n' it 's a wise child