"Well I am surprised! Wasting a whole morning building a rabbit-coop!"
"For the land's sake, Susan, it ain't wasted time. They pay me for all I do for 'em, and they pay me well, too."
"They're extravagant people. They have no business to hire you to work around so much, when you've got plenty to do at home."
"Oh, don't worry; Hickox'll look after things. It'll be all right."
Though he spoke carelessly, Mr. Hickox was in reality much disturbed by his wife's sharp speeches. Long years of married life with her had not yet enabled his gentle, peace-loving nature to remain unruffled under her stormy outbursts of temper. He stood, unconsciously and nervously fumbling with a wisp of straw he had plucked from a near-by broom.
"You're shiftless and idle, Hickory, and you don't know what's good for yourself. Now do stop fiddling with that straw. First thing you know, you'll be poking it in your ear. I cut out a newspaper clipping only yesterday, about a man who poked a straw in his ear, and it killed him. That's what you'll come to some day."
"No, I won't."
"Yes, you will! But just you remember this safe rule: never put anything in your ear, but your elbow. But you're so forgetful. I am surprised that a man can be as forgetful as you are! Throw that straw away,—it's safer."
"Yes, it's safer, Susan," and Mr. Hickox threw his straw away. "And when you sit down to dinner, I hope you will tie yourself into your chair. You may not fall off, but it's safer."
Mrs. Hickox gave her husband a scornful look, which was all the reply she usually vouchsafed to his occasional shafts of mild sarcasm.