A Shrew for a Wife

“Our idee is,” says a fellow that got a shrew for a wife, that
“Woman’s love is like Scotch snuff;
We get one pinch, and that’s enough.”

Doctor Quill

“So old Doctor Quill is dead,” said Mrs. Partington, as she put an extra piece of butter on her bread. “They do say that he died of information* of his brain; but they mustn’t try to make me believe sich an unprobable story as that – information on the brain, truly! Why, he was the greatest fool I know on! I can’t help laughing at his presumptuous ignorance. Why, didn’t he, at one of his lectures one cold night last winter, try to make be believe, together with the rest of a large respectable ordinance, that the sun was then nearer the earth than it would be in the hottest day in summer? – and didn’t he try to suppose on my mind, when he called on me, that time is money? O, the dolt! Why, there’s Cousin Slow (he has his whole time – he never was known to do anything) and the world knows how poor he is. O, you can’t make be believe sich stuff! I wonder what will carry me off, if he died of information?” and she arose from the table flushed with excitement.

*Notes about the transcript: -

• `information of the brain' is likely to mean `inflammation of the brain'.

• *sich = such

• ordinance = audience

The article obviously written colloquially to emphasise the ignorance of the speaker