"'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. She thought 'twas her duty, however, to warn him against
profane language, but the answer she got was so much more prayerful than
his first remarks, that she come about and headed for the sittin'-room
quick.
"Well, to make a long yarn short, the Kill-Smudge done the bus'ness.
Kenelm stuck to smokin' till he couldn't read a cigar sign without his
ballast shiftin', and then he give it up. And--as you might expect from
that kind of a man--he was more down on tobacco than the Come-Outer
parson himself. He even got up in revival meetin' and laid into it
hammer and tongs. He was the best 'horrible example' they had, and
Hannah was so proud of him that she couldn't sleep nights. She still
stuck to the Kill-Smudge, though--layin' in a fresh stock every once in
a while--and she dosed the tea about every other day, so's her brother
wouldn't run no danger of relapse.
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