"And you?" asked Monroe.
"Oh, they can't get me; too much pull with the—"
Just then a howling brat, in silks and satins, came tearing into the room, riding a brass curtain pole as his "horse." On seeing a stranger, the youngster promptly made a flail out of the said curtain pole, and began to belabor Peter over the head with such effectiveness that Peter caught the child by the seat of his breeches, and hurled him blubbering into a corner.
"I thought you enjoyed your new existence," humorously remarked the staid Monroe.
"I do," answered the angered Peter, with a "humph."
"Well, if that is an example of what married life is, I don't think I want any of it in mine," said Monroe, with some dejection in the curl of his lips.
"Don't be so easily discouraged, Monroe; I've got ten like that one, on whom I spend my time in reforming."
"Oh, Lordy!" exclaimed the placid Monroe.
"Yes; it is Lordy sometimes, you would think, if you were here when they are all in."
"Why, I'd soon be in an asylum," said Monroe, despairingly.