Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Hard Case.


It was said of Hiram Wilson's conversational powers that they were "enough to turn the most knowledgeable folks scatter witted for the time being," and when he began to tell a story groups of men melted away as if by magic.

"I was goin by the Widder Follet's this mornin," he began one day as he joined the group around the new village pump, "at least I say goin by, an I dunno why I say goin by, for I wa'n't exackly. I was just goin along, as old Sam'l Gill used to tell about — leastways I dunno why I say old, for he wa'n't so turrible old — not much older'n most of us here — leastways I dunno's I orter say most of us, for there's Peter Franklin that I've heered tell — that is t' say, I ain't ever exackly heerd, bein as I'm so deef from the rheumaticks settlin in my ears, an I dunno's I've any call to say rheumaticks 'nother, for there was one doctor told me — leastways I dunno's he act'lly was a doctor, but he made out — an I dunno but made out's a kind of a ha'sh way to put it, but ye see he" —

At this point Mr. Wilson paused and looked about him. The legs of his last listener were vanishing around the corner of the postoffice, and he was left alone.

"Well, I never see anythin like it," said Mr. Wilson in an aggrieved tone as he proceeded to follow his late audience. "Seems 's if a man couldn't tell a succumstance — an I dunno's I'd orter say succumstance, for it wa'n't" — His voice died away in an inarticulate murmur as the postoffice door closed behind him. — Youth's Companion.

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