Mr. March was a short stumpy young man with a very bald head and short sight. He lived in a large house at the other end of the village and rather fancied himself as a wit. He was extraordinarily conceited and not overburdened by any superfluity of intellect.
“I say, Mr. March,” yelled William as he approached. “Is it divorce or bigamy if you change your wife?”
“An’ do you get hung for it or put in prison?” added Ginger.
Mr. March threw back his head and roared.
“Ha, ha!” he bellowed, “Which of you wants to change his wife? Which of you is not satisfied with his spouse? Excellent! Ha, ha!”
He went on down the road chuckling to himself.
“He’s a bit cracked,” commented Ginger in a tone of kind impartiality.
“But my mother says he’s awful rich,” said Douglas.
“An’ he’s gone on your sister,” said Ginger to William.
“Then he mus’ be cracked!” said William bitterly.