"You have never seen it, Nora," said he, "and you ought to have a look at the den where your poor old daddy spends his time grinding dress material for his family from the faces of the poor. I've got some funny clerks, too: one of them is a curiosity." Here, growing suddenly furious, he gave an egg a clout.
His daughter giggled—
"Oh, Pa," said she, "you are not breaking that egg, you are murdering it."
He looked at her gloomily—
"It wasn't the egg I was hitting," said he. "Gr-r-r-up," said he suddenly, and he stabbed a piece of butter, squashed it to death on a slice of bread, and tore it to pieces with his teeth.
The young lady looked at him with some amazement, but she said nothing, for she believed, as most ladies do, that men are a little mad sometimes, and are foolish always.
Her father intercepted that glance, and instantly snarled—
"Can you cook, young woman?" said he.
"Of course, father," replied the perplexed maiden.
He laid aside his spoon and gave her his full attention.