Deacon Henzy loves hard cider and keeps a kag on tap durin' the summer, he sez it is for his liver, but liver or no liver it hain't right.
I hain't goin' to make no insinuations about their doin's though sister Henzy has approached me on the subject time and agin, she hain't so clost mouthed as I am.

But I will merely say that when they got back their two breaths didn't smell as two deacon's breaths ort to smell.

But I didn't say nothin' about it outside and shan't, I use tack.

I spoke on't to Josiah at the time, yes indeed I hearn the call of Duty and obeyed.
But as I wuz sayin', though it trompled on all my feelin's and forebodin's I urged 'em to go agin and they went.

And I shan't tell how their breaths smelt when they got back--it hain't best, only simply sayin' that Josiah took an empty pint fruit can with him that mornin' when he went over to the Deacon's to start, and I never inquired what he took it for, so fur will a female let even her principles be outraged when the life of her beloved companion is at the stake--I tried to think he wuz goin' to take milk in it.
But the small string of tiny fish wuz all he ketched out of the deep waters, he didn't ketch any cheerfulness or happiness for himself or me, only disappintment and shagrin for I felt if I didn't use all my tack mebby the meetin' house would try to set down on him.