This just hit poor Trip's notion of humor, and he began to choke, with his mouth full of pie.
“James, take care,” said Mrs. Triplet, sad and solemn.
James looked up.
“My wife is a good woman, madam,” said he; “but deficient in an important particular.”
“Oh, James!”
“Yes, my dear. I regret to say you have no sense of humor; nummore than a cat, Jane.”
“What! because the poor thing can't laugh at your comedy?”
“No, ma'am; but she laughs at nothing.”
“Try her with one of your tragedies, my lad.”
“I am sure, James,” said the poor, good, lackadaisical woman, “if I don't laugh, it is not for want of the will. I used to be a very hearty laugher,” whined she; “but I haven't laughed this two years.”