At breakfast, his wife said:
“How are the biscuit, Henry?”
“Rather heavy,” he answered, “and about half done.”
His wife flounced out of the dining room and he ate breakfast with the children. Ordinarily Henry would have said, “They are very fine, my dear,” and all would have been well.
As he went out the gate, his rich old aunt, with whom he had always been a favorite, drove up. She was curled, and stayed, and powdered to look as young as possible.
“Oh, Henry,” she simpered. “How are Ella and the children? I would come in but I’m looking such a fright today I’m not fit to be seen.”
“Yes,” said Henry, “you do. It’s a good thing your horse has a blind bridle on, for if he got a sight of you he’d run away and break your neck.”
His aunt glared furiously at him and drove away without saying a word.
Henry figured it up afterward and found that every word he said to her cost him $8,000.