She is jest as sweet as a rosey in June.
I make no matches, nor break none.

But I couldn't help tellin' Josiah Allen in confidence from time to time that it did seem to me that Isabelle and Mr.Freeman wuz cut out for each other.
Every time I see Isabelle--and Krit and Thomas J.had often made some app'intment where our family party could all meet--and every time I see her, I liked her better and better.
And Maggie, who of course had seen more of her than I had, bein' in the same house with her, she told me in confidence, and in the Mexican Exhibit, that "Isabelle was an angel." No, I make no matches, nor break none.
But I happened to speak sort of axidently as it were to Mr.Freeman one day, and told him my niece wuz a-comin' to spend a week with me, jest as quick as Miss Planks step-sister's daughter's cousin got away.

(Miss Plank, like the rest of Chicago freeholders, had relations back to the 3d and 4th generation come onto 'em like flocks of ravenin' grasshoppers or locusses, durin' the Fair.) And I sez--though I am the one that hadn't ort to say it, mebby--"She is one of the sweetest girls on earth." Sez I, "I call her a girl, though I spoze I ort to call her a woman, for she is one in years.

But because she hain't never been married," sez I presently, "hain't, no reason that she couldn't be, for she has had offers, and offers, and might be married any day now.
"But," sez I, "she kep single from duty once, and now it seems to be from choice." He sort of smiled with his eyes.

He wuz used to such talk, I spoze.