And that wuz the reason she told me that she made warm biscuit so much. And I told her it wuz the worst thing she could cook for him, for his health and his pocket. But she said he loved ’em so well, and he wuz so kinder sick, she humored him dretfully; she said if anything should happen she shouldn’t have reflexions. She said she always made a five-gallon jar of strawberry preserves; she worked out to get the sugar and she picked the strawberries herself, and she said they wuzn’t set on the table hardly any. When he didn’t feel well in the night, he would get up and take a spoon and eat out of that jar. And she ended agin by sayin’: “I shouldn’t hab no ’flexions to cast onto myself if anyting should happen to my ole man.” “Wall,” sez I in deep earnest, “if you keep on in this way you’ll find that sunthin’ _will_ happen, for no livin’ stomach can stand such a strain cast onto it, unless it is,” sez I reasonably, “a goat or a mule. I have hearn that they can digest stove-pipe and tin cans. But a human stomach must break down under it. And I’d advise you to feed him on good plain bread and toast till he gets well, and keep your preserves for meal-times and company. And I’d advise you to set them great boys of yourn to work stiddy, and not by fits and starts, and you’ll have as much agin comfort in your house, and health too.” But, good land! I might jest as well have talked to the wind, or better. For the wind, even if it didn’t pay no attention to my remarks—as it probably wouldn’t, specially if it wuz blowin’ hard—it wouldn’t get mad. It would jest blow right on, and blow my remarks right away, and blow jest as friendly as ever. But she got mad—mad as a hen. And she didn’t send after milk for as much as three days. But it didn’t hold out; she sent on the fourth day. But it didn’t change their course any. He kep’ on a eatin’ hot biscuit and butter and preserves, when they had ’em, night and day, and they all would. And when they hadn’t anything to eat, and couldn’t get anything in any other way, why, they would go without till they wuz most starved, and then they would sally out and work a day or two, and then the same scenes would be enacted right over agin. Good land! there didn’t seem to be no use of talkin’, and still I sort o’ kep’ on. There wuz one boy amongst ’em, and that wuz St. Luke, and mebby it wuz because he wuz named after that likely old apostel, and then, agin, mebby it wuzn’t; but anyway, he did seem to have a little more pride and a little more sense and gumption than the rest.