Wa'al,' I says, 'I don't jest know how it happened, an' the elder cert'inly didn't, fer after they'd got him untangled f'm under what was left of the woodshed an' the kitchin stove, an' tied him up in cotton battin', an' set his leg, an' put out the house, an' a few things like that, bom-by he come round a little, an' the fust thing he says was, "Wa'al, wa'al, wa'al!" "What is it, pa ?" says Mis' Maybee, bendin' down over him.

"That peowder," he says, in almost no voice, "that peowder! I was jest stirrin' on't a little, an' it went _o-f-f_, it went _o-f-f_," he says, "_seemin'ly--in--a--minute_!" an' that,' I says to Mis' Price, 'was what that egg done.' "'We'll have to forgive you that egg,' she says, laughin' like ev'rything, 'for Elder Maybee's sake'; an' in fact," said David, "they all laughed except one feller.

He was an Englishman--I fergit his name.
When I got through he looked kind o' puzzled an' says" (Mr.Harum imitated his style as well as he could), "'But ra'ally, Mr.Harum, you kneow that's the way powdah always geoes off, don't you kneow,' an' then," said David, "they laughed harder 'n ever, an' the Englishman got redder 'n a beet." "What did you say ?" asked John.
"Nuthin'," said David.

"They was all laughin' so't I couldn't git in a word, an' then the waiter brought me another plateful of somethin'.

Scat my -- --!" he exclaimed, "I thought that dinner 'd go on till kingdom come.