“We’ll jump the broomstick in about a month from now,” Dad said, full of satisfaction for his business stroke. “I aim to settle down and quit my roamin’, John.”
“And your marrying, too, I hope, you old rascal!”
“Yes, this one will be my last, I reckon. I don’t mind, though; I’ve had doin’s enough with women in my day.”
“Is she a good looker, Dad?”
“Well, I’ve seen purtier ones and I’ve seen uglier ones, John. No, she ain’t what you might call stylish, I guess, but she’s all right for me. She’s a little off in one leg, but not enough to hurt.”
“That’s a slight blemish in a lady with money in the bank, Dad.”
“I look at it that way, on the sensible side. Good looks is all right in a woman, but that ain’t all a man needs to make him easy in his mind. Well, she did lose the sight of her left eye when she was a girl, but she can see a dollar with the other one further than I can see a wagon wheel.”
“No gentleman would stop at the small trifle of an eye. What else, Dad?”
“Nothing else, only she’s carryin’ a little more meat right now than a woman likes to pack around in hot weather. I don’t mind that; you know, I like mine fat; you can’t get ’em too fat for me.”