"Am I a handsome man, mother?"
"A handsomer couldn't be found, Jeremiah."
"Am I good enough for any girl?"
"Indeed you are. She'll be a lucky girl you set your heart on, my boy."
"Oh, come, now! I don't know so much about hearts. I know which side I want my bread buttered—eh, mother?"
"Certainly, Jeremiah."
"Well, then, why shouldn't it be?"
"Why shouldn't what be?" asked Mrs. Pamflett, very much mystified.
Jeremiah put his forefinger to the side of his nose. "When I tell you, mother, you'll be as wise as I am."
"But do tell me, Jeremiah," the fond mother pleaded.