Friday midnight
`` Sez Josiah : ` Why do we want our pleasant woods and fields turned into noisy bedlams by the whirrin ' of wheels , creakin ' of engines and the roar and smoke and dust of traffick ? Spozein ' we should make more money and dress better and own more books ; money hai n't everything in life , nor hustlin ' in bizness ; peace and comfort and mindin ' your own bizness is sunthin ' . ' '' ` And wheresoever them noisy manufactories go , there goes whiskey , ' sez Arvilly . A neighborin ' woman who wuz by and jined in : ` What good duz it do to try to settle which is the right Sunday if at the same time them proselyters brings pizen that crazes their converts so they ca n't tell Sunday mornin ' from Friday midnight , bring the preachin ' of love and peace and the practice of hatred and ruin , the creeds and catechism packed on with opium and whiskey . ' '' ` Yes , ' sez Josiah , ` let me catch the Loontown and Shackville Powers tryin ' to divide Jonesville into pieces and grabbin ' the pieces and dividin ' 'em up amongst 'em and turnin ' us out of house and hum , I guess them powers would find they had got hold of a Boxer when they come to cut up my paster and divide it and the medder back of the house where grandfather Allen 's grandpa and great-grandma lays with a white railin ' round 'em , kep ' up by the Allens two hundred years . I guess they 'd think they had got holt of a Boxer -- yes indeed ! and Josiah Allen breathed hard and looked warlike . ''