When I think o' the cheerful lovin' spirit 's I pinned
my wave on in, 'n' then reflect on what I pinned it on to, I can't but
feel 't if I ain't a fool I 'd ought to be one, 'n' I can't say
nothin' stronger for the way I feel. They say 's the Devil 's the
father o' lies, but it's a slander. The Devil is a floatin' angel by
the side o' that letter 's I found. It was a lie, Mrs. Lathrop, a lie
from first to last, 'n' it makes my blood run cold to think o' all the
years that I lived right underneath it 'n' never 's much 's dreamed o'
the iniquity up in that old trunk over my head."
Mrs. Lathrop gasped again.
"Mrs. Lathrop, I never had it in me to conceal nothin' from you. We've
been good friends 'n' true through thick 'n' thin, through my father
'n' your son 'n' every other species o' Heaven-sent infliction, f'r
years 'n' years 'n' years. 'N' now I ain't goin' to shut you out o'
the inside truth o' this awful day. You see me set off this mornin'
bright 'n' beamin', 'n' you see me come home this night burnin' 'n'
bitter, 'n' it's nothin' but right's you sh'd be fully took in to the
betwixt 'n' between. It'll mebbe be a lesson to you some day if
anythin' sh'd come up 's led you to look to be extra happy all of a
sudden, 'n' you'll remember this hour 'n' jus' firmly go back into the
house 'n' shut the door 'n' say, 'Life's a delusion 'n' a snare, like
Susan Clegg's Cousin Marion.
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