Her
daughter's down here from New Haven. She's married into one of the first
families o' Connecticut, Lobelia has, 'n' she puts on a good many airs.
She's rigged out her mother's parlor with lace curtains 'n' one thing
'n' 'other, 'n' wants it called the drawin'-room. Did ye ever hear tell
such foolishness? 'Drawin'-room!' s' I to Si; 'what's it goin' to draw?
Nothin' but flies, I guess likely!' ... Mis' Pennell's got a new girl to
help round the house,--one o' them pindlin' light-complected Smith
girls, from the Swamp,--look's if they was nussed on bonny-clabber.
She's so hombly I sh'd think 't would make her back ache to carry her
head round. She ain't very smart, neither. Her mother sent word she'd
pick up 'n' do better when she got her growth. That made Mis' Pennell
hoppin' mad. She said she didn't cal'late to pay a girl three shillin's
a week for growin'. Mis' Pennell's be'n feelin' consid'able slim, or she
wouldn't 'a' hired help; it's just like pullin' teeth for Deacon Pennell
to pay out money for anything like that. He watches every mouthful the
girl puts into her mouth, 'n' it's made him 'bout down sick to see her
fleshin' up on his vittles.... They say he has her put the mornin'
coffee-groun's to dry on the winder-sill, 'n' then has 'em scalt over
for dinner; but, there! I don' know 's there's a mite o' truth in it,
so I won't repeat it. They went to him to git a subscription for the new
hearse the other day. Land sakes! we need one bad enough.
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