Read it through once

So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, she _was_ in a tearing way—just a-trembling all over, she was so mad. But she counted and counted till she got that addled she’d start to count in the _basket_ for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they come out right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up the basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galley-west; and she said cle’r out and let her have some peace, and if we come bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she’d skin us. So we had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst she was a-giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with her shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with this business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, because he said _now_ she couldn’t ever count them spoons twice alike again to save her life; and wouldn’t believe she’d counted them right if she _did;_ and said that after she’d about counted her head off for the next three days he judged she’d give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her to ever count them any more.