It wuz real touchin’, and I wuz considerable affected by it—not to tears—no; I thought I wouldn’t shed any tears if I could help it, for darnin’ is close work, and it calls for all the eyesight you have got; and then I had on a new gray lawn dress that I felt would spot easy; so I restrained my emotions with a almost marble composure, and anon I sez to him as he wuz a goin’ on in that affectin’ way, and sez I: “I may be took first, Josiah Allen.” And he admitted that that might be the case, though he couldn’t bear to think on’t, he said, it gin him such awful feelin’s. He said he had never been able to think on’t with any composure. But after a while he talked more diffuse on the subject, and owned up that he had thought on’t; and sez he, in a still more confidin’ and affectionate way: “For years, Samantha, I have had it in my head what I would put on your tombstun if I should live to stand up under the hard, hard blow of havin’ to rare one up over you. “I have thought I should have it read as follers, and to wit, namely: “‘Here lies Samantha, wife of Deacon Josiah Allen, Esquire, of Jonesville. Deacon in the Methodist Church, salesman in the Jonesville cheese factory, and a man beloved and respected by every one who knows him but to love him, and names him but to praise.’ “Its endin’ in poetry, Samantha, wuz jest what I knew wuz touchin’, dumb touchin’, and would be apt to please you; and it is always a man’s aim to write the obituarys of his former deceased pardner in a way that would suit her and be pleasin’ to her.” Sez I calmly, “Yes, I should know a man wrote that if I read it in the darkest night that ever rolled, and I wuz blindfolded.” “Wall,” sez he anxiously, “don’t it suit you? Don’t you think it is uneek, sunthin’ new and strikin’?” “Oh, no,” sez I, “no, it hain’t nuthin’ new at all; but mebby it is strikin’—or that is,” sez I, “it depends on who is struck.” “Wall,” sez he, “it is dumb discouragin’, after a man racks his brains to try to get up sunthin’ strong and beautiful, to think a woman can’t be tickled and animated with it.” Sez I calmly, “I hain’t said that I wuzn’t suited with it.” And sez I with still more severe axents, for I see he looked disappointed, “I will say further, Josiah, that it meets my expectations fully; it is jest what I should expect a male pardner to write.” “Wall,” sez he, lookin’ pleaseder and more satisfieder, “I thought you would appreciate it after you thought it over for a spell.” “I do, Josiah,” sez I, turnin’ over the sock I wuz a mendin’ and attacktin’ a new weak spot in the heel, “I do appreciate it fully.” Josiah looked real tickled and sort o’ proud, and I kep’ on in calm axents and a darnin’ too, for the hole wuz big, and night wuz a descendin’ down onto us. And I could hear Aunt Mela’s preparations for supper down below, and I wanted to get the sock done before I went down-stairs. So I sez, sez I: