"Yes!"
"Where?" mildly inquired Mr. Ducklow.
"No matter!" said Mrs. Ducklow, with decided ill-temper.
Mr. Ducklow drew a deep sigh, as he turned and looked upon her.
"Wal, you be about the most uncomf'table woman ever I see!" he said, with a dark and dissatisfied countenance.
"If you can't answer my question, I don't see why I need take the trouble to answer yours,"—and Mrs. Ducklow returned with compressed lips to her patching. "Yer supper is ready; ye can eat it when ye please."
"I was answerin' your question as fast as I could," said her husband, in a tone of excessive mildness, full of sorrow and discouragement.
"I haven't seen any signs of your answering it!"
And the housewife's fingers stitched away energetically at the patch.
"Wal, wal! ye don't see everything!"