THE SERGEANTS’ MESS
“Do you mean that you want me to press your trousers?” she demanded, with all the sternness she could muster.
“Why, certainly, my dear,” replied Sergeant Euchre, affably. “Am I asking too much?”
“Well, I should just about think so, Charles William. I’d have you know that when you married me you didn’t marry a flat-iron.”
Charles William thought a lot. That same evening Mrs. Euchre chipped in with, “Oh, Charles, you might just button my dress up the back before you go out.”
But Sergeant Euchre merely filled his pipe as he chuckled softly, “Not much, popsy-wopsy. You must remember that when you accepted me you did not marry a buttonhook.”
And setting his cap at a rakish angle, he made for the sergeants’ mess.