“But while delays go on, the mills of the gods are grinding on; time nor tide cannot stop them. And if this nation sits down at its ease for a decade longer, woe to this republic!” I wuz so thrilled, and skairt, and enthused by Cousin John Richard’s eloquence and strange and fiery words and flowery language that when I sort o’ come to myself I looked up, a expectin’ to see Josiah bathed in tears, for he weeps easy. But even as I looked, I heard a low, peaceful snore. And I see that Josiah Allen had so fur forgot good manners and what wuz due to high principles and horspitality as to set there fast asleep. Yes, sleepin’ as sweet as a babe in its mother’s arms. I looked mortified, I know. But Cousin John Richard took it all historically—nuthin’ personal could touch him, so it seemed. And sez he to me, “There is a fair instance of what I have told you, cousin—a plain illustration of the indifference and unbelief of the North as to the state of affairs in the Southern States.” “Wall,” sez I, “Josiah has been broke of his rest some durin’ the year with newraligy, and you must overlook it in him.” And, wantin’ to change the subject, I asked him if he wouldn’t like a glass of new milk before retirin’ and goin’ to bed. And he said he would; and I brung it in to him with a little plate of crackers on a tray. And as I come by Josiah Allen I made calculation ahead to hit him axidentally on his bald head with my elbow. And he started up, with his face nearly covered with smiles and mortification, and sez he: “That last remark of yours, Cousin John Richard, wuz very convincin’ and eloquent.” The remark wuz, “I like new milk very much.” But I wouldn’t throw that milk into his face. And Cousin John received the milk and the remark with composure. And I kep’ them two men down on to relations, and sheep, and such like subjects till I got ’em off to bed. I give John Richard a good dose of spignut syrup, for he complained of a sore throat, and he wuz hoarse as a frog. Good land! I should have thought he would be, talkin’ as much as he had, and eloquent too. Eloquence is dretful tuckerin’; I know well its effects on the system, though mebby I hadn’t ort to be the one to say it. Wall, in the mornin’ Cousin John Richard wuz weak as a cat. All tired out. He couldn’t hardly get round. And I made him lay down on the lounge in the settin’ room, and I give him spignut syrup once a hour most all day, and kep’ him warm, and lumps of maple sugar for his cough. And by night he seemed like a new man—that spignut syrup is wonderful; few people know the properties of it. Wall, Josiah and I both took such a likin’ to that good onselfish eloquent creeter that we prevailed on him to stay a week with us right along. And we took him to see the children, and Josiah took him up to Uncle Thomas’es, and Cousin Sophronia’s on his own side, and we done well by him.