"It's kinder singler," sez I, puttin on my most sweetest look and speakin in a winnin voice, "that so fair a made as thow never got hitched to some likely feller." [N.B.--She was upards of 40 and homely as a stump fence, but I thawt I'd tickil her.] "I don't like men!" she sed, very short. "Wall, I dunno," sez I, "they're a rayther important part of the populashun.  I don't scacely see how we could git along without 'em." "Us poor wimin folks would git along a grate deal better if there was no men!" "You'll excoos me, marm, but I don't think that air would work.  It wouldn't be regler." "I'm fraid of men!" she sed. "That's onnecessary, marm.  YOU ain't in no danger.  Don't fret yourself on that pint." "Here we're shot out from the sinful world.  Here all is peas.  Here we air brothers and sisters.   We don't marry and consekently we hav no domestic difficulties.  Husbans don't abooze their wives--wives don't worrit their husbans.  There's no children here to worrit us.  Nothin to worrit us here.  No wicked matrimony here.  Would thow like to be a Shaker?" "No," sez I, "it ain't my stile." I had now histed in as big a load of pervishuns as I could carry comfortable, and, leanin back in my cheer, commenst pickin my teeth with a fork.  The female went out, leavin me all alone with the clock.  I hadn't sot thar long before the Elder poked his hed in at the door.  "You're a man of sin!" he sed, and groaned and went away. Direckly thar cum in two young Shakeresses, as putty and slick lookin gals as I ever met.  It is troo they was drest in meal bags like the old one I'd met previsly, and their shiny, silky har was hid from sight by long white caps, sich as I spose female Josts wear; but their eyes sparkled like diminds, their cheeks was like roses, and they was charmin enuff to make a man throw stuns at his granmother if they axed him to.  They comenst clearin away the dishes, castin shy glances at me all the time.  I got excited.  I forgot Betsy Jane in my rapter, and sez I, "my pretty dears, how air you?" "We air well," they solumly sed. "Whar's the old man?" sed I, in a soft voice. "Of whom dost thow speak--Brother Uriah?" "I mean the gay and festiv cuss who calls me a man of sin.  Shouldn't wonder if his name was Uriah." "He has retired." "Wall, my pretty dears," sez I, "let's have sum fun.  Let's play puss in the corner.  What say?" "Air you a Shaker, sir?" they axed. "Wall my pretty dears, I haven't arrayed my proud form in a long weskit yit, but if they was all like you perhaps I'd jine 'em.  As it is, I'm a Shaker pro-temporary." They was full of fun.  I seed that at fust, only they was a leetle skeery.  I tawt 'em Puss in the corner and sich like plase, and we had a nice time, keepin quiet of course so the old man shouldn't hear.  When we broke up, sez I, "my pretty dears, ear I go you hav no objections, hav you, to a innersent kiss at partin?" "Yay," they said, and I YAY'D.