"An' Vivien Nelson's fur-lined coat, ma," chimed in Eudora, "I know it didn't cost one cent less than seventy-five dollars!"
"These country people are so extravagant, ye know," returned her mother. "They are allus tryin' to imitate their sufferiors. To think of Vivien Nelson, a farmer's daughter, hevin' a fur-lined coat which cost almost as much as Eudora's! It is really disgraceful! I'm sure her father could give more to the Church than he does, an' yit he'll let us hear the brunt of the burden."
"Guess he'll hev to bear mor'n ever now," replied her husband as he rose from the table. "I'm done with the whole bizness, an' I'm mighty glad I heven't paid fer the last year, an' don't intend to now."
As Farrington passed out of the dining-room into the store, his clerk, a young man new to the business, was serving a middle-aged woman at the counter.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sturgis," the former was saying, "but we are entirely out of it just now. We can order it for you, though, and have it in a few days."
Farrington turned angrily upon his heel as these words fell upon his ears.
"What does she want?" he demanded.
"Number forty, white thread; but we're out of it."
"You stupid blockhead, we're not out of it! We're never out! If you'd use yer eyes half as much as yer tongue ye'd be all right."
"But I can't find it. I've looked everywhere," and the clerk's eyes flashed danger as he turned them upon his master.