“She didn’t have far to go,” observed Mrs. Bottom.

“Well, you’d never have known it to look at her,” commented young Adam, “but ‘tis a true sayin’ that you can’t tell the quality of the meat by the colour of the feathers.”

“You’d better be speakin’ particular, suh, an’ not general,” retorted old Adam, who was in a querulous mood as the result of too abrupt an awakening from his nap.  “What you ain’t known it doesn’t follow other folks ain’t, does it?  Human natur is generally made with a streak of foolishness an’ a streak of sense, just as fat an’ lean runs in a piece of bacon.  That’s what I say, an’ I reckon I ought to know, bein’ turned ninety.”

“All the same thar’s some folks that ain’t streaked at all, but a solid lump of silliness like Judy Hatch,” returned his son.

This was too much for the patience of the patriarchial spirit, and old Adam began to shake as though he were suddenly smitten with palsy.

“What do you mean by contradictin’ me, suh?  Didn’t I bring you into the world?” he demanded.

A reproachful shake of the head passed round the group.

“You oughtn’t to contradict him, young Adam.  Ain’t he yo’ pa?” said Mrs. Bottom, rebukingly.

“I warn’t contradictin’, I was talkin’,” replied young Adam, abashed by the evident disapprobation that surrounded him.

“Well, don’t talk, suh, until you can talk sense,” rejoined his father.  “When a talker has turned ninety an’ can meet me on equal ground, I’ll consent to argue with him.”

His lower lip protruded threateningly from his toothless gums, while two tears of anger rolled slowly out of his eyes and over his veined and roughened cheeks to the crescent shaped hollow of his chin.  So deeply rooted in his mind was the conviction that his ninety years furnished an unanswerable argument for the truth of his opinions, that the assurance of experience had conferred upon him something of that manner of superhuman authority with which the assurance of inexperience had endowed Mr. Mullen.

“I for one was al’ays against Abel’s marrying,” interposed Betsey with a placable air.  “I knew she’d be a drag on him, an’ now that he’s goin’ into politics with sech good chances, the mo’s the pity.  I’ve told him so time and agin when he stopped at the or’nary.”

At this point the appearance of Solomon Hatch caused her to explain hurriedly, “We were jest speakin’ of Abel an’ his chances for the Legislature.  You’ve got a mighty good son-in-law, Solomon.”

“Yes,” said Solomon, sourly, “yes, but Judy’s a fool.”