“My dear William! Why, the children were shivering the whole day, and the wind was in the north.”
“Due east, Mrs Skratdj.”
“I know by the smoke,” said Mrs Skratdj, softly but decidedly.
“I fancy I can tell an east wind when I feel it,” said Mr Skratdj, jocosely, to the company.
“I told Jemima to look at the weathercock,” murmured Mrs Skratdj.
“I don’t care a fig for Jemima,” said her husband.
On another occasion Mrs Skratdj and a lady friend were conversing.
... “We met him at the Smiths’—a gentlemanlike agreeable man, about forty,” said Mrs Skratdj, in reference to some matter interesting to both ladies.
“Not a day over thirty-five,” said Mr Skratdj, from behind his newspaper.
“Why, my dear William, his hair’s grey,” said Mrs Skratdj.