"I weighed it myself, Æneas, with my own hands, and it was nine pounds four ounces before we were obliged to cut it, and as firm as a rock the flesh was."
"For one and sixpence!" said Mr. Carter, relaxing still a little further, and condescending to look his hostess in the face.
"Yes, for one and six; and now—"
"I'm sure I'd have bought it for one and four, fins and all," said the parson, determined to interrupt his wife in her pathos.
"I'm sure you would not then," said his wife, taking his assertion in earnest. "You could never market against Jerry in your life; I will say that for him."
"If you'll allow me to change my mind, I think I will have a little bit of it," said Mr. Carter, almost humbly.
"By all means," said Mr. Townsend. "Biddy, bring that fish back. Now I think of it, I have not half dined myself yet."
And then they all three forgot their ill humours, and enjoyed their dinner thoroughly,—in spite of the acknowledged fault as touching the lost fins of the animal.