“Mrs. Blank, if you were me would you have your daughter operated upon?”
“Operated upon for what?”
“For appendicitis.”
“Nettie, let me tell you something: if I had no more sense than to give you advice on such a question as that, I certainly hope you would have more sense than to take it. Advice about a thing with no sort of knowledge of that thing is as worthless as it is common.”
“Why—I thought since you are a doctor's wife you would know about it.”
“Can you draw up a legal will because you happen to be the wife of a lawyer?”
“No-o, but—”
“But me no buts,” quoth Mary. “We're even now.”
“Well, I've heard it said a doctor's wife knows even less than many others about ills and their remedies because she is so used to depending on her husband that she never has to think of them herself. I guess I'd better talk to the doctor. I just thought I'd see what you said first. Good-bye.”
“My skirts are clear of any advice in that direction,” thought Mary, her mind reverting again to the lemonade.