“No, indeed,” said her husband, “and yet with some of them, they look very smart and pretty with their little curly heads.”
“Much like boys, I should think,” said the wife scornfully.
“No, not quite that, either,” said the ploughman, “more like the pictures of angels in the old churches, and they say it is the great thing for it to curl up all round the head, and when it does that of itself, they are very proud of it.”
“Well, then, some of them might be very proud of mine,” said the wife, “for it’s as curly as may be, and if I were to cut it short would be all in tiny curls.”
When her husband had gone to his work, the ploughman’s wife could do nothing but think of the strange new fashion of which her husband had told her. “I wonder how it would suit me,” she thought, and when he came in to dinner she said to him—
“Husband, is it really true that all those fine ladies looked very pretty and smart with their hair short?”
“Ay, that they did,” he said; “I was quite surprised to see them, and I heard they said ’twas a wonderful saving of trouble, and that their hair could never grow untidy.”
“That is true,” said the wife, “yet I should be sorry to cut mine off.”
“I wonder how it would look?” and she snipped off a big bit.