Grandma Sharpless achieved the proud athletic feat of bounding from her chair without the perceptible movement of a muscle.
“Young man!” she exclaimed in a shaking voice, “do you know what book that is?”
“I don’t care what book—”
“It is the Bible.”
“Is it? Well, Heaven inspired the writer, but not the printer. Text such as that ought to be prohibited by law. Isn’t there a passage in that Bible, ‘Having eyes, ye see not’?”
“Yes, there is,” snapped Mrs. Sharpless. “And my eyes have been seeing and seeing straight for a good many more years than yours.”
“The more credit to them and the less to you, if you’ve maltreated them with such sight-murdering print as that. Haven’t you another Bible?”
Grandma Sharpless sat down again. “I have another,” she said, “with large print; but it’s so heavy.”
“Prescription: one reading-stand. Now, Mrs. Clyde.”
The mother of the family looked up from her magazine with a smile.