George looked at it studiously. "Why, it ain't so worse," he said. "That squash is great—big as life and twice as natural."
"What do you think of the frame?" asked the clerk, venturing with no little fondness to run a ringer over the lichens.
"Made out of fencing, ain't it? Why, I like it first-rate. Maybe I haven't kicked my bare heels on just such a fence many a time!"
So had the clerk, but refrained from confession.
"Buying it?" asked George.
"No; house-room," responded the clerk, with a motion toward Jared.
"Yours?" asked the drummer.
"Yes, sir; I painted it."
"Frame your idea, too?"
"Yes."