MRS. G. (_dusting_). No! Nathan, I won’t! So, there! It ’ill hev to stay there, wher’ it dropped, for all o’ me; for I’ll never pick it up as long as I live. I tho’t all we had was aourn together, and that everything belonged as much ter me as it does ter you. But I see naow that it’s as the lectur’-woman sed. I read it in the _Transkip_:—“Husband and wife is one, but that one is the husband.” I shouldn’t ’a’ tho’t o’ sellin’ yaour caarf or yaour best caow. You call ’em yaourn, an’ the caarf was allus called mine. An’, then, little Sally, that’s gone, tho’t so much on’t! (_Wipes her eyes._) CAPT. G. Hang it! don’t take on so. (_Aside_) Darn them fellers, flingin’ their wimmin’s right at me! (_To her_) Who cares what the lectur’-woman says? Some darned old maid, or divorced widder, I s’pose. Didn’t I buy suthin’ for yer with the money! Didn’t I buy yer a gaown, a shawl, an’ a bunnit! An’, when yer didn’t like ’em, didn’t I give yer all the money back, and yer wouldn’t take it! An’ didn’t yer fling it daown on the floor, an’ vaow you wouldn’t pick it up! MRS. G. Yes, but yer never as’d me! an’ I didn’t want her sold, nuther! You know haow I took care o’ that caarf. Her mother died, an’ never saw her. I almost feel as if she was mine; for I brought her up like a baby, and she sucked milk from my finger before she could stan’. I’m sure I’m as much her mother as harf the hens are mothers of their chickens: for they never see some o’ the eggs till they are put under ’em to hatch, an’ they don’t know which is which. CAPT. G. Waal! yaou’ve got yer new things, hain’t ye? an’ I’m glad on’t. I’m abaout sick o’ them black clo’es o’ yourn. They look so maugre. For my part, I want ter see yer in suthin’ bright. MRS. G. I sh’d think yer did! Yer tho’t I was abaout sixteen, didn’t yer? (_Opens the door at the back, and produces a very showy piece of dress goods, a shawl of a very loud pattern, and a bonnet trimmed with green and red and yellow_) Look a’ that! What do you think o’ them things! Young enough for Mary, or Leafy Jane, either. I never wore such bright things when I was a gal; an’ I’m sure I ain’t a-gwine ter begin naow. CAPT. G. I don’t see why, Lorany! They ain’t no brighter than the marygoolds, pecuniaries (_petunias_), and dadyoluses, yer like so well, in the garden, or even the persalter roses. MRS. G. That’s a different thing. I ain’t a flower-garden; I do wish the men-folks ’d let their wives buy their own clo’es, or give ’em the money to buy ’em with. (_Sits down and braids on her mat._) CAPT. G. Why, Lorany! the wimmen folks ain’t used to layin’ out money. We can make it spend a great deal better ’n they can. MRS. G. P’r’aps yer can; but we’d like what we bought ourselves a great deal better; I do wish they’d let us buy our own clo’es, I say, or give us the money to buy ’em with, so’s we could suit ourselves.