“She ought to take a feather and ile her voice,” observed a guest known as “Meeteetse Ed.”
McArthur could not resist saying indignantly:
“The unfortunate are to be pitied, my dear sir.”
“This is jest a mild spasm she’s havin’ now. You ought to hear her when she’s warmed up.”
McArthur was about to administer a sharper rebuke when the door opened and Susie came out.
“How’s that for a screech?” she demanded triumphantly.
“You’d sure make a bunch of coyotes take fer home,” Meeteetse Ed replied flatteringly.
“You have come in my way not once or twice, but thrice; and now you die! Ha! Ha!” Reaching for a spoon, Susie stabbed Meeteetse Ed on the second china button of his flannel shirt.
“I’d rather die than have you laff in my ear like that,” declared Meeteetse.
“Next time I’m goin’ to learn a comical piece.”