They entered the parlor to wait for dinner. Ephraim’s eye was caught by a very pretty miniature on the wall.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“Mrs. Miller; my wife.”
“Is it a photograph?”
“I don’t know what a photograph is.”
“Ah!” sighed Ephraim, “I remember. Let me ask you something else. Did you ever hear of a place named Chicago?”
“Never! there is no such place.”
“You know nothing of railroads, or steamships, or telegraphs?”
“You are talking Greek to me.”
“Did you ever hear of a telegraph cable to Europe?”