But I felt that it wuz ofttimes hard work to tell the difference; and I sez: “I am glad it hain’t me that has to do the separatin’ between the good and the bad, for I shouldn’t know where to lay holt, appearances are so deceitful sometimes. Sheepskins are wore often over goats, and anon a sheep puts on the skin and horns of a goat to face the world in and fight with it. I shouldn’t know where to begin or leggo.” “Wall, that is because you are a woman,” sez Josiah. “Wimmen _never_ know where or how to lay holt of any hard work or head work. I could do it in a minute, and any man could that wuz used to horned cattle.” I sithed and thought to myself the thought I had entertained more or less ever sence I stood up with Josiah Allen at the altar. How different, how different my pardner and I looked on some things, and how impossible it wuz seemingly for us to ever get the same view on ’em. But I didn’t multiply any more words with him, knowin’ it wouldn’t be of any use; and then agin, as I looked clost at him, I see a shade of serious pensiveness, and even sadness, as it were, a shadin’ down onto his eyebrow. And my talk didn’t seem to lighten it any as I went on and told him that they said that this custom of dividin’, as it were, the sheep and the goats wuz practised a good deal in different parts of the South. But I still see the shadowy shade on his foretop, and went on more cheerful, and told him that the little boy Abe wuz goin’ to be took into the family of the good colored preacher, so he wuz sure of a good home and good treatment. But in vain wuz all my cheerful perambulations of conversation. I see that he looked demute, and broodin’ over some idee; and finally he spoke out: “Samantha, goin’ to funerals, or hearin’ about ’em, puts folks to thinkin’.” “Yes, it duz, Josiah;” and sez I, in quite a solemn axent, “it stands us all in hand to be prepared.” [Illustration: ABE.] Sez he, “I wuzn’t thinkin’ of that side of the subject, Samantha; but it brings back to me that old thought and fear that has been growin’ on me for years more or less. Samantha,” sez he, “I worry, and have worried for years, for fear that you will some time be left a relict with nuthin’ to lean on.” I glanced up at him, and the thought come to me instinctively that it would be the ondoin’ of us both if I should try to lean heavy on him now, for my weight is great, and he is small-boneded, and I knew that he would crumple right down under the weight of 200 pounds heft. But I didn’t speak my thoughts—oh, no; I merely looked at him real affectionate, and I took up a sock I wuz mendin’ for him (we wuz in our own room), and I attackted it as socks should be attackted if you lay out to make ’em good and sound. And he went on still more confidential and confidin’, and told me several things he thought I had ort to do if I wuz ever left a relict of him.