AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
“I don't know how dat vas. But I sink it vas diese vay. My grandfadder, he vas nossing. He didn't pelong to no church. But den he gets married. My grandmudder, she vas Reformed and so he choins wiss de Reformed too chust to blease her. Den my fadder, he vas Reformed, and den I comes along and I am Reformed.”"
John makes an occasional deal in an old clock, a case of drawers, a walnut desk, a corner cupboard and a horse. Fully half a dozen tall clocks stand around the corners of his house, ticking the minutes and striking the hours, waiting until some eager antiquary comes to separate them.
“Dere vas a rich voman,” began John (when I pressed him a little too closely about the profits on a clock), “and she didn't haf any chiltren and she vanted to puy a horse, and it must be chust such a horse wiss such a color and wiss chust such a long dail. She didn't vant any horse vat come from de vest, but he must pe raised on a varm arount here, so dat he know de country and run up and down hill all right. Her man, he comes eferyvere lookin' for dat horse and den he comes to me and dells me vat drouble he haf wiss diese olt voman. He sees de horse vat I drife in my vagon and he looks him all ofer and he says: ‘I am tired—awful—and I pelieve dat horse vat you got vould chust suit,’ and I say: ‘I sink so too; see vat a nice long dail. But how can I get de vork done on my varm wissout dat horse?’ Den I ask de boys and dey say: ‘Vat for you vant to keep dat horse wiss such a dail? You got horses a-blenty. Ve gets along all right. You chust sell him.’ And so I lets him go wiss de man. After dat, venefer diese olt voman haf her friends come to bay her a visit on a Suntay, she dells 'em to go out to de parn, and look at dat horse vot she pought and dell her vat vas de madder wiss him, and dey all comes in and say dey looks him ofer fery particular and dere vas nossing de madder wiss him. He vas a goot horse. Den vun day a fellow vat vas a cousin
