“If you was not a fungus, you might be a genius,” detone her.
I were deliciously relieved to hear them talk that way, because I knew they would get so interested in unpleasantness that Hon. Cluck would forget to go sleep in Mawruss Chair until after dinner was ate. And then I would have time to show my Dishcovery.
And so it was. While I prepare what hash I could find, Hon. Cluck spent time pacing backwards and reverse with expression peculiar to Admirals on July 4th. At lastly dinner set himself on table while Hon. Cluck devoured big dinner amidst usual steam-roller grumbel about my unhappy cooking.
“Can’t you recall some sweet language to make marriage pleasant?” renag Mrs. Cluck.
“Marriage are only pleasant when he are asleep,” he peruse, looking expectfully to Mawruss Chair.
When it come to pie time, I could already observe dormatory expression of lodging-house crowling over fatty face of Hon. Boss. Yawns by him. Stretches. At lastly, he arose upwards, lit cigar, rubbed his tired business eyes & started for library.
“I think one slight, little nap in Mawruss Chair will prepare me,” he say so to Wife.
“Prepare you for what?” she dib back at Hon. Husband.
“For go to bed,” he resnort. He make sluggardly walk toward Mawruss Chair.
Now I knew it were time for activity, if my Dishcovery would be useful. So I ran with silent speed of cats towards other room where end of rope was. Through library door, I could see Hon. Chair setting there with dimpled pads. I grabb rope detatched to pulleys what led to Hon. Chair. Next thing I could see Hon. Cluck back up towards Chair, stretch lovingly, and crouch his knees as if intending to set down. But he wasn’t.