"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 gentleman-like 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.
"Plenty of men are grey at thirty," said Mr. Skratdj. "I knew a man who was grey at twenty-five."