"Never ask a woman to mend anything," he said. "You haven't been married very long and I think I can give you some serviceable suggestions. When I want a shirt mended I take it to my wife and flourish it around a little and say, 'Where's that rag-bag?'
"'What do you want of the rag-bag?' asks the wife. Her suspicions are aroused at once.
"'I want to throw this shirt away. It's worn out,' I say, with a few more flourishes.
"'Let me see that shirt,' my wife says, then, 'Now, John, hand it to me at once.'
"Of course, I pass it over and she examines it.
"'Why, it only needs—'; and then she mends it."
"Why are you so pensive?" he asked.
"I'm not pensive," she replied.
"But you haven't said a word for twenty minutes."