Mrs. H.’s eyes snapped fire, and she stared at the reverend visitor as if she imagined he was crazy.
“He could not have had the spring-halt, for he had a cork-leg,” she replied.
“A cork-leg—remarkable; but really, didn’t he have a dangerous trick of suddenly stopping and kicking the wagon all to pieces?”
“Never, sir; he was not mad.”
“Probably not. But there were some good points about him.”
“I should think so.”
“The way in which he carried his ears, for example.”
“Nobody ever noticed that particular merit,” said the widow, with much asperity, “he was warm-hearted, generous and frank.”
“Good qualities,” answered the minister. “How long did it take him to go a mile?”
“About fifteen minutes.”