But Master Pennewip is still in life.
Sometimes they were lean, and sometimes fat,
And he wears a wig underneath his hat.”
The wig was pushed to one side—very far to one side.
“H’m—strange—what shall I say about it?”
The wig went back again to the extreme right.
“What have I got to do with the oxen?”
The wig protested, with some impressive movements, against all such bovine relationships.
“WIG PUSHED DOWN TO THE BACK OF HIS NECK.”