"I don't believe I've got any bumps."
"Oh, yes, you have. We all have them. I shall only ask you twenty-five cents for an examination."
"I won't give it," said the old lady, resolutely clutching her purse, as if she feared a violent effort to dispossess her of it. "I can't afford it."
"It is a very small sum to pay for the knowledge of yourself."
"I guess I know myself better than you do," said the old lady, nodding her head vigorously. Then, yielding to an impulse of curiosity: "Say, mister, is it a pretty good business, examinin' heads?"
"It ought to be," answered the professor, "if the world were thoroughly alive to the importance of the noble science of phrenology."
"I don't see what use it is."
"Let me tell you, then, ma'am. You have doubtless employed servants that proved unworthy of your confidence."
The old lady assented.
"Now if you had employed a phrenologist to examine a servant's head before engaging her, he would have told you at once whether she was likely to prove honest and faithful, or the reverse."