Ebenezer told us mebbe we hadn’t better stay long, for they had hard work to get along. He said Delilah Ann wasn’t a mite like his wife, Malinda, only in one way—they both despised a mejum course and follored their own way blindly and to the end of the chain. But their chains was fur different. For whereas, Malinda, havin’ a husband that was well off, would scrub and work every minute, with no need on’t; Delilah Ann, havin’ married a poor man that needed help, wouldn’t work a mite. Hadn’t been no help to him at all since they was married, only in talkin’ on appearances, and havin’ seven girls. And they bein’ growed up, and their ma not allowin’ ’em to do a spec of work, only to dress up to ketch a bo. Lank had to work from mornin’ till night in the store where he was a clerk, and then set up half of the night to copy papers for a lawyer, to try to pay their milliner’s bills and the hired girls. But he couldn’t; he was in debt to everybody. And he didn’t get no rest to home, for the girls and their mother was teazin’ him every minute for gold bracelets, and diamond rings and silk dresses. He said they lived poor and their morals was all run down, Lank not havin’ been able to get enough ahead to buy a Bible. He hadn’t nothin’ but the Pokraphy and a part of the Old Testament, that had fell to him from his father. Fell so fur, that all the old prophets had got tore to pieces, except Malachi, and he was battered awfully. Ebenezer said that Lank told him that he had hard work to bring up children right and nothin’ but Pokraphy to go by. He said Lank told him when he got his last month’s wages, he did mean to get enough ahead to buy a Bible and a sack of flour; but when he got his pay, his wife said she was sufferin’ for a new gauze head-dress and the seven girls had got to have some bebinet neckties and new ear-rings. He said Delila Ann said, after they had got these necessarys, then, if there was anything left they would get a sack of flour and a Bible. But there wasn’t and so they had to get along with the Pokraphy, and the second sort of flour. And he said that workin’ so hard and farin’ so hard, Lank was most used up. He said he wasn’t more’n two or three minutes older than he was, but he looked as if he was seventy-nine years of age. And he was afraid he wouldn’t stand it more’n several months longer, if things went on so. I felt bad when Ebenezer was a-tellin’ us this. I felt sorry for Lank, as sorry as could be. And I was awful indignant at Delila. These wus my first two thoughts, and then it wusn’t probably more’n half a moment before I thought to myself, mebbe here is a chance for me to shoot another shot at old Emer, and win another victory in that cause of right. I felt a feeling that I could advise Delila Ann for her good. And so I spoke up, mildly, but with a firm and noble mean, on me, that we would stop there for an hour or two.