“Hennery,” says the mother, with a deep meaning in her voice, “I want to ask you one question. Did your Pa’s friend wear a dress?”
“O, yes,” said the bad boy, coolly, not noticing the pale face of his Ma, “the friend put on that old blue dress of yours, with the pistol pocket in front, you know, and pinned a red cloth on for a train, and they danced the can-can.”
Just at this point Pa came home to dinner, and the bad boy said, “Pa, I was just telling Ma what a nice time you had that first night she went away, with the pillows, and—”
“Hennery!” says the old gentleman severely, “you are a confounded fool.”
“Izick,” said the wife more severely, “Why did you bring a female home with you that night. Have you got no—”
“O, Ma,” says the bad boy, “it was not a woman. It was young Mr. Brown, Pa’s clerk at the store, you know.”
“O!” said Mas with a smile and a sigh.
“Hennery,” said his stern parent, “I want to see you there by the coal bin for a minute or two. You are the gaul durndest fool I ever see. What you want to learn the first thing you do is to keep your mouth shut,” and then they went on with the frugal meal, while Hennery seemed to feel as though something was coming.