Bolster had done what he sot out to do--he had lowered my pride down lower than the Queen of Sheba's ever wuz, by fur.

I had no sperit left in me.

He might have gone on to me by the hour, and I not sensed it.
But I didn't let on how I felt.

I only sez weakly, "Wall, they hain't a-sufferin' for help, I guess, and I'll write to Philura so." But Bolster, good-natured agin, sez, "I will look round, and see what I can do for him." And he snatched out a note-book, and writ his name down.

And I thanked him, and weakly follered my companion from the room.
And I felt that if the door had been much smaller I could have got out of it.