Says I, reasonably, “They do have a sort of a one-sided look, I’ll admit, and sort o’ curious at certain times, such as processions and et cetery. But,” I added, almost coldly, for I was about wore out with ’em; “in my opinion, there haint no lonesomeness to be compared to the lonesomeness of the empty-headed and aimless, and no amount of husbands can make up to any woman for the loss of her self-respect. That is my idea, howsumever, everybody to their own mind.” Whether I did her any good or not, I know not, for my companion arrived almost at that moment, and we departed onto our tower. But whether marks are hit or not, it is sort a-comfortin’ and happyfyin’ to think that there is a pile of arrows somewhere, to bear witness that you have took aim, and fired nobly in the cause of right. HOW THE BAMBERSES BORROWED JOSIAH. When we bought our farm there wus a house on it, jist acrost the road from our’n; it wus middlin’ small, and dretful kinder run down and shakey, and I had entirely gin up the idee of enybody’s livin’ there. But all of a sudden, Josiah started up, and said he was goin’ to fix up that house, and rent it. “He believed he could make piles of money out of it, a-rentin’ it, and he wanted some neighbors.” Says I, “Josiah Allen, you’d better let well enough alone. You’d better let the whole house stay as it is,” says I, “There is werse neighbors than them that is stayin’ in the old house now.” “What do you mean, Samantha?” And his eyes showed the whites all round ’em, he was that surprised. But I says, “There are werse neighbors, and more troublesome creeters in this world, Josiah Allen, than peace, and quiet, and repose.” “Oh, shaw!” says he. “Why can’t you talk common sense, if you have got any.” And he went on in a firm, obstinate way. “I am determined to fix up the house, and rent it. Wimmens never can see into business. They havn’t got the brains for it. You hain’t to blame for it, Samantha; but you haven’t got the head to see how profitable I am goin’ to make it. And then, our nearest neighbors now live well on to a quarter of a mile away. How neat it will be to have neighbors, right here, by us all the time, day and night.” And he added, dreamily, “I love to neighbor, Samantha, I love to neighbor, dearly.” But I held firm and told him, “He’d better let well enough alone.” But he wus sot as sot could be, and went on a-fixin’ the house, and it cost him nearer a hundred dollars than it did anything else, besides lamin’ himself, and blisterin’ his hands to work on it himself, and fillin’ his eyes with plaster, and gettin’ creaks in his back a-liftin’ ’round and repairin’. But he felt neat through it all. It seemed as if the more money he laid out, and the werse he got hurt, the more his mind soared up a-thinkin’ how much money he wus goin’ to make a-rentin’ it, and what a beautiful time he wus a-goin’ to have a-neighborin’.