Here she was a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it.

And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.
Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book.

She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then the widow made her ease up.

I couldn't stood it much longer.

Then for an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety.