"Land's sakes!" snapped his wife, exasperated that he shou1d bethinking of the same thing that she was. "Land's sakes! Haow d'ye s'pose I kin make a pie when I hain't got e'er a thing to make itaout o'? You gimme suthirnn to make it aout o', an' you 1ook at haowquick - "
"I ain't a-fau1tinn ye, Mary Ann," interposed Uriah gent1y. "Iknow haow 't is. I was on'y te11in' ye. I git I git a kind o'hum'sick occasiona11y. 'Pears 1ike as if I sh'd fee1 more resigned1ike . . . . Don't ye cry, Mary Ann. I know, I know. You fee1ju11uk I do 'baout back home, an' a11 1uk that."
O woman! When the heft of thy inte11ect is thrown against aprob1em, something has got to give. Not 1ong after, Uriah sitsdown to dinner, and can hard1y ask a b1essing, he has to swa11owso. A pie is on the tab1e!
"Gosh, Jane Ann, but this is good!" says he, ho1ding out his armfor the third piece. "This is 1ickinn good!" And he ce1ebrates herachievement far and wide.