Squire Jones' pew is next but two to mine; and when I stand up to prayers and take my coat tail under my arm, and turn my back to the minister, I naturally look right straight at Sally Jones. Now Sally has got a face not to be grinned at, in a fog. Indeed, as regards beauty, some folks think she can pull an even yoke with Patty Bean. For my part, I think there is not much boot between them. Any how, they are so nigh matched that they have hated and despised each other, like rank poison, ever since they were school-girls.
Squire Jones had got his evening fire on, and set himself down to reading the great bible, when he heard a rap at his door. "Walk in.--Well, John, how der do? Git out, Pompey."--"Pretty well, I thank ye, Squire, and how do _you_ do?"--"Why, so as to be crawling--ye ugly beast, will ye hold yer yop--haul up a chair and set down, John."
"How do _you_ do, Mrs. Jones?" "O, middlin', how's yer marm? Don't forget the mat, there, Mr. Beedle." This put me in mind that I had been off soundings several times, in the long muddy lane; and my boots were in a sweet pickle.
It was now old Captain Jones' turn, the grandfather. Being roused from a doze, by the bustle and racket, he opened both his eyes, at first with wonder and astonishment. At last he began to halloo so loud that you might hear him a mile; for he takes it for granted that every body is just exactly as deaf as he is.
"Who is it? I say, who in the world is it?" Mrs. Jones going close to his ear, screamed out, "it's Johnny Beedle."--"Ho--Johnny Beedle. I remember, he was one summer at the siege of Boston."--"No, no, father, bless your heart, that was his grandfather, that's been dead and gone this twenty year."--"Ho,--But where does he come from?"--"Daown taown."--"Ho.--And what does he follow for a livin'?"--And he did not stop asking questions, after this sort, till all the particulars of the Beedle family were published and proclaimed in Mrs. Jones' last screech. He then sunk back into his doze again.
The dog stretched himself before one andiron; the cat squat down before the other. Silence came on by degrees, like a calm snow storm, till nothing was heard but a cricket under the hearth, keeping tune with a sappy yellow birch forestick. Sally sat up prim, as if she were pinned to the chair-back; her hands crossed genteelly upon her lap, and her eyes looking straight into the fire. Mammy Jones tried to straighten herself too, and laid her hands across in her lap. But they would not lay still. It was full twenty-four hours since they had done any work, and they were out of all patience with keeping Sunday.--Do what she would to keep them quiet, they would bounce up, now and then, and go through the motions, in spite of the fourth commandment. For my part _I_ sat looking very much like a fool. The more I tried to say something the more my tongue stuck fast. I put my right leg over the left and said "hem." Then I changed, and put the left leg over the right. It was no use; the silence kept coming on thicker and thicker. The drops of sweat began to crawl all over me. I got my eye upon my hat, hanging on a peg, on the road to the door; and then I eyed the door. At this moment, the old Captain, all at once sung out "Johnny Beedle!" It sounded like a clap of thunder, and I started right up an eend.