Mr. Hill, in one of his many visits “down east,” was belated one evening, and was compelled to seek shelter at a small farm-house. He thus describes the family party and the family doings on that evening.
The heads of the family were a Mr. and Mrs. Jones, who were honoured, on this occasion, with a visit from a plain sort of man, who told me, said Mr. Hill, that he teached school in winter, and hired out in haying time. What this man’s name was, I do not exactly recollect. It might have been Smith, and for convenience sake, we will call him John Smith. This Mr. Smith brought a newspaper with him, which was printed weekly, which Mr. Jones said—as it did not agree with his politics—was a very weakly consarn.
Mr. Jones was seated one side of an old pine table, and Mr. Smith on the other. Mrs. Jones sat knitting in one corner, and the children under the fire-place—some cracking nuts, others whittling sticks, &c. Mr. Jones, after perusing the paper for some time, observed to Mrs. Jones, “My dear!”
_Mrs. J._ Well, law souls, I heard it; go on.
_Mr. J._ I say, it appears from a paragraph——
_Mrs. J._ Well, it don’t appear as if you were ever going to appear.
_Mr. J._ I say, it appears from a paragraph in this paper——
_Mrs. J._ There—there you go again. Why on airth, Jones, don’t you spit it out.
_Mr. J._ I say, it appears from a paragraph in this paper——
_Mrs. J._ Well, I declare, Jones, you are enough to tire the patience of Job. Why on airth don’t you out with it.
_Mr. J._ Mrs. Jones, will you be quiet. If you get my dander up, I’ll raise Satan round this house, and you know it, tew. Mr. Smith you must excuse me. I’m obliged to be a little peremptory to my wife, for if you wasn’t here she’d lick me like all natur. Well, as I said, it appears from this paper, that Seth Slope—you know’d Seth Slope, that used to be round here?
_Mr. J._ Well, you know he went out in a whalin’ voyage.
_Mr. J._ Well, it appears he was settin’ on the stern, when the vessel give a lee lurch, and he was knocked overboard, and hain’t written to his friends since that time.
Before going further, I will endeavour to give you some idea of this Seth Slope. He was what they term down-east, “a poor shote;” his principal business was picking up chips, feeding the hogs, &c., &c. I will represent him with his hat. (_Puts on hat._)
