“I tell you, suh, Brer Peter tuck the thing mighty hard, mighty hard. He didn’t wanter do dat thing ’tall. But arter he dun prayed ober it, he cum out wid er new light in his eye, an’ he put his hand on my head an’ bless me an’ say, ‘Brer Washington, I’ve prayed ober it. It am de will ob de Lord. Lite on dat muel an’ seek your konsolashun. Go in an’ receive de sanshun ob her reten-shun an’ de kompliment ob her adorin’.’ And he kinder wink his off eye an’ sed, ‘Go in an’ win, fur you am de Samson ob lub fightin’ de Phillustines ob matrermony; but when you cum to git konsolashun from er widder’—an’ dar he wink hes eye ergin—‘use de same weepun dat Samson used an’ victory am yourn.’
“But when I got to de widder’s cabin an’ tole her—great Scott, suh! she tuck it terribul hard. She didn’t wan’ marry ’tall. Leastwise she made me b’leeve it. Hit’s jes’ es I tole you, suh; you hafter wrastle might swift fur konsolashun when you goes to marry a widder.
“‘Brer Washington,’ she sez, ‘dis am so suddent, so suddent! Don’t you think you’d be satisfied ef I’d continue in de sisterly relashuns ob de church wid you?’
“‘Sister Calline,’ sez I, sorter detarmined lak, ‘I’ve had ten ebry day sisters all my life en sum seben hundred Sunday ones. What I now wants am one wife!’
“Oh, I tell you, suh, you gotter shoot mighty klose fur konsolashun when you wants ter marry a widder!
“We kept it up for hours, she argyfyin’ an’ me argyfyin’, she prayin’ an’ me prayin’. I tell you, Boss, she wus er speedy filly, an’ she had no noshun ob quittin’. We went round de fus’ quarter ob de last mile nose and nose—argyment ergin argyment, prayer ergin prayer. I thout sho’ she had me distanced onct when she fotch out de scriptures on me an’ turned to de twenty-second chapter ob Exerdust an’ sed: ‘Brer Washington, read fur yo’self: “Thou shalt not afflict any widder or fatherless chile.”’ But I turned over to Timerthy, de fifth chapter an’ de third verse, an’ sez I, ‘Sister Calline, whut you read am Ole Testament. It am anshunt histery. Heah am de New Testament, heah am de new doctrine: “Honor widders dat am widders, indeed.”’ Oh, I tell you, Boss,” laughed the old man, “I sho’ hung onto de sulky wheels ob her contenshun wid de wings ob my orthorteries—you gotter hab sum speed lef’ fur de home stretch ef you wants ter beat er widder home!