"Tell me, does your husband snore?"
"Oh, yes, indeed—so delightfully."
"What?"
"Yes, really—he's so musical you know, his voice is baritone, he only snores operatic bits, mostly Aida."
* * *
The packer from Chicago admired a picture by Rosa Bonheur.
"How much is that?" he demanded. The dealer quoted the price as $5,000.
"Holy pig's feet!" the magnate spluttered. "For that money, I can buy live hogs and——"
His wife nudged him in the ribs, and whispered:
"Don't talk shop."