But one night she brings on a cranberry pie, and Kenelm turned up his nose at it.
"'More of that everlastin' sour stuff!' he snorts.

'I've et cranb'ries till my stomach's puckered up as if it worked with a gath'rin' string.
Take it away! I don't want it!' "'But, Kenelm, you're always so fond of cranb'ry pie.' "'Me?
It makes me shrivel just to look at it.

Pass that sugar bowl, so's I can sweeten ship.' "Next day 'twas salt fish and potatoes that wa'n't good.

He'd been teasin' for a salt-fish dinner for ever so long, so Hannah'd fixed up this one just to please him, but he swallered two or three knifefuls and then looked at her kind of sad and mournful.
"'To think,' says he, 'that I've lived all these years to be p'isoned fin'lly! And by my own sister, too! Well, that's what comes of bein' wuth money.

Give me my pipe and let me forget my troubles.' "'Course this kind of talk made Hannah mad, but she argued that 'twas the Kill-Smudge gettin' in its work, so she put a double dose into his teacup that night, and trusted in Providence.
"And the next day she noticed that he swallered hard between every pull at his pipe, and when, at last, he jumped out of his chair, let out a swear word and hove his pipe at the cat, she felt consider'ble encouraged.