human
Mrs. Bird, you look un-_com_only well, to-day,
gpt
Think I _do_,
human
Why, you look as fresh as a new-blown rose.
gpt
Why, Mr. Turtle, how can you think so? I'm an old woman.
human
Not so old, arter all, said Ike;
gpt
Why, Mrs. Bird don't use _sperits_!
human
Not them kind, said Ike--
gpt
continued Ike,
human
O, nonsense now--yes, you do--liv'd neighbor to him in Puddleford these ten years or more. But if there's any doubt about it, I'll just introduce you. Squire Longbow, continued Ike, rising and pointing to Mrs. Bird--
gpt
Mrs. Bird--Mrs. Bird, Squire Longbow. And here's Mrs. Beagle and Mrs. Swipes--all of Puddleford--maybe you don't know 'em--all old residenters--come in when the country was new, and have cut their own fodder ever since.
human
Now, said Ike,
gpt
I've introduced you, enjoy yourselves.
human
Is Lavinny at school this winter?
gpt
Yes, marm, she is--studying 'stronomy--got inter the fix'd stars last week--and will be onter Capercorn, byme-by.
human
Bless my soul! exclaimed Aunt Sonora, her knitting-needles rattling with surprise,
gpt
Yes, marm, continued the Squire,
human
Dear me suz, I wanter know,
gpt
And then she's at the head in the gography class--she's draw'd a map of the Cannibal Islands--and on one on 'em, Capt'n Cook lies with his head off, crying for marcy--and she says, down onter the squator it don't never snow, nor nothin', and it's hotter than blue-blazes, in the winter--and when it thunders and litenins, it tears everything inter pieces--she's goin' ahead wonderfully, Mrs. Beagle.
human
Well, now, that _is satisfying_, said Mrs. Beagle.
gpt
It does one so much good to see one's children get larnin'!
human
That's just what I tell'd Mr. Brown when Jim was first born, said Aunt Sonora.
gpt
I tell'd him the boy had genus, for there never was one of our family that didn't. 'But you've got-ter give him schooling,' said I, 'to bring it out.' And so he did--and you orter to have see'd how he run'd to books and newspapers. When he was fifteen, he tell'd the old man, as he called his father, he orter to go to district-school--(he was a wonderful boy; know'd everything, then)--that he was way ahind the age. Then he went off a roamin', a seekin' his fortin'--and when he com'd back, nobody would know'd him--he was _so_ improved--he fling'd his legs onter to the stove, and smoked and chewed, and talk'd about furrin parts--and didn't take any notice of the old man--said how the old man didn't know nothin'--(warn't he genus, Squire Longbow?)--he wouldn't work any, because he said genuses never work'd--that they wouldn't be genuses if they did--he made the old man give him a fast horse, and a p'inter dog, and a gun, all kivered with silver plates, and then he rid, and hunted, and courted--(warn't he genus?)--he courted Squire Boson's darter, and Mr. Fogg's two darters, and all the gals in the western settlement, till he finally settled down, as I was tellin' Mr. ---- a while ago, into jest as much of a genus as ever--the dear massy on us, what won't larnin' do?