He might have made it so," replied Reuben, shocked by his neighbour's irreverence, yet too modest to dispute it with authority.
"Now, if that's logic I don't know what logic is, though I was born with the gift of it," retorted old Adam.

"When twenty seeds rot in the ground an' one happens up, thar're some folks as would praise the Lord for the one and say nothin' about the twenty.

These same folks are forever drawin' picturs of wild things hoppin' an' skippin' in the woods, as if they ever had time to hop an' skip when they're obleeged to keep one eye on the fox an' the hawk an' t'other on the gun of the hunter.

Yet to hear Mr.Mullen talk in the pulpit, you'd think that natur was all hoppin' an' skippin'." "You're a wicked unbeliever," said Reuben, mildly sorrowful, "an' you ought to go home and pray over your thankless doubts." "I'm as I was made," rejoined the other.

"I didn't ax to be born an' I've had to work powerful hard for my keep." Taking the glass of blackberry wine from Molly's hand, he smacked his lips over it with lingering enjoyment.
"Do you feel better, grandfather ?" inquired the girl, in the pause.
"The wine does me good, honey, but thar's a queer gone feelin' inside of me.