“Funny story of Lot’s wife, Sir! Do you call that a funny story, Sir?”
“I do, Sir.”
“You do, Sir?”
“Yes, I do, Sir; and I defy you or any other man to say it ain’t a funny story.”
“Oh dear, dear,” said Mr. Hopewell, “that I should have lived to see the day when you, my son, would dare to speak of a Divine judgment as a funny story, and that you should presume so to address me.”
“A judgment, Sir?”
“Yes, a judgment, Sir.”
“Do you call the story of Lot’s wife a judgment?”
“Yes, I do call the story of Lot’s wife a judgment; a monument of the Divine wrath for the sin of disobedience.”
“What! Mrs. Happy Lot? Do you call her a monument of wrath? Well, well, if that don’t beat all, Minister. If you had a been a-tyin’ of the night-cap last night I shouldn’t a wondered at your talkin’ at that pace. But to call that dear little woman, Mrs. Happy Lot, that dancin’, laughin’ tormentin’, little critter, a monument of wrath, beats all to immortal smash.”