“I’ll be bound ye eat su’thin’ ez disagreed with you in the town-folk’s victuals. I expec’ I’ll hev ter give ye some yarb tea afore ye feel right peart ag’in. Ye would hev a right to the indigestion ef ye hed been feedin’ like me nigh on ter midnight. I be goin’ ter tell ye about the pictur’-show arter I finish about ’Roy Tresmon’ an’ me. That supper--waal, sir, he invited Sophy an’ Ned Jarney, too, an’ paid fer us all, though some o’ them knickknacks war likely ter hev been paid fer with thar lives. Toadstools did them misguided sinners eat with thar chicken, an’ I expected them presently ter be laid out stiff in death. _I_ never teched the rank p’ison, nor the wine nuther. I say ter ’Roy ez I never could abide traffickin’ with corn-juice. An’ he grinned an’ say, ‘This is grape-juice, Editha.’ But ye mought know it warn’t no common grape-juice. The waiter kep’ a folded napkin round the bottle ez it poured, an’ the sniff of that liquor war tremenjious fine. It war like a whole flower-gyardin full of perfume. Them two men, ’Roy an’ Jarney, war breakin’ the dry-town law, I believe. They kep’ lookin’ at each other an’ laffin’, an’ axin’ which brand of soft drinks war the mos’ satisfyin’. An’ the man what kep’ the eatin’-store looked p’intedly skeered as he said ter the waiter, ‘Ye needn’t put _that_ bottle on the table.’ An’ they got gay fer true; my best cherry-bounce couldn’t hev made ’Roy mo’ glib than he war. An’ ’Roy hed no sense lef’ nuther. Sophy she say she seen the bill the waiter laid by his plate,-ye know how keen them leetle, squinched-up eyes of hern be,--an’ she say it war over ten dollars. Lawsy!--lawsy! what a thing it is ter be rich! ’Roy Tresmon’ jes stepped up ter the counter an’ paid it ’thout battin’ an eye.”