Mr.Euston explained, and our friend gave his reasons for hesitating--all but the chief one, which was that he was reluctant to commit himself to an undertaking which he apprehended would be not only laborious but disagreeable.
"Wa'al," said David, "as fur 's the bus'nis itself 's concerned, the hull thing's all nix-cum-rouse to me; but as fur 's gettin' folks to come an' sing, you c'n git a barn full, an' take your pick; an' a feller that c'n git a pair of hosses an' a buggy out of a tight fix the way you done a while ago ought to be able to break in a little team of half a dozen women or so." "Well," said John, laughing, "_you_ could have done what I was lucky enough to do with the horses, but--" "Yes, yes," David broke in, scratching his cheek, "I guess you got me that time." Mr.Euston perceived that for some reason he had an ally and advocate in Mr.Harum.He rose and said good-night, and John escorted him downstairs to the door.

"Pray think of it as favorably as you can," he said, as they shook hands at parting.
"Putty nice kind of a man," remarked David when John came back; "putty nice kind of a man.

'Bout the only 'quaintance you've made of his kind, ain't he?
Wa'al, he's all right fur 's he goes.

Comes of good stock, I'm told, an' looks it.

Runs a good deal to emptins in his preachin' though, they say.