Mrs. B. "Four headstones, not five."
Mix. "I think you mentioned five."
Mrs. B. "No; only four."
Mix. "Less see: there was John, and Thomas and Aleck, and Adolph and Philip."
Mrs. B. "Yes, but Aleck and Philip were the same one. His middle name was Philip, and I always called him by it."
Mix. "Mrs. Banger, I'll be much obliged to you if you'll tell me precisely how many husbands you have planted up in that cemetery lot. This thing's getting a little mixed."
Mrs. B. "What do you mean, sir, by saying planted? I never 'planted' anybody. It's disgraceful to use such language."
Mix. "It's a technical term, madam. We always use it, and I don't see as it's going to hurt any old row of fellows named Smyth. Planted is good enough for other men, and it's good enough for them."
Mrs. B. "Old row of—What d'you mean, you impudent vagabond? I wouldn't let you put a headstone on one of my graves if you'd do it for nothing."
Then Mrs. Banger flounced out of the shop, and Mix called after her as she went through the door,