When
anything goes wrong with 'em an' they get a set-back in war, or
business, or affairs with women-folks, they want to die right
off; so they take a sword an' stan' it straight up wherever they
happen to be, in the shed or the barn, or the henhouse, an' they
p'int the sharp end right to their waist-line, where the bowels
an' other vital organisms is lowcated; an' then they fall on to
it. It runs 'em right through to the back an' kills 'em like a
shot, and that's the way I cal'late the youth in Ashy dies, if my
entomology is correct, as it gen'ally is."
"Don't seem an easy death to me," argued Okra, "but I ain't no
scholard. What college did thou attend to, Tim?"
"I don't hold no diaploma," responded Timothy, "though I attended
to Wareham Academy quite a spell, the same time as your sister
was goin' to Wareham Seminary where eddication is still bein'
disseminated though of an awful poor kind, compared to the old
times."
"It's live an' larn," said the storekeeper respectfully. "I never
thought of a Seminary bein' a place of dissemination before, but
you can see the two words is near kin."
"You can't alters tell by the sound," said Timothy instructively.
"Sometimes two words'll start from the same root, an' branch out
diff'rent, like 'critter' an' 'hypocritter.
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