Dearest Sir:
My next escape was from employment of Mrs. Clarence Calicutt, Siberia, N. Y. This lady was very highly esteamed. She practise theosophy on her mind and make society acquaintance with frequent ladies. She had the most deceptive behaviour of any personality I ever employed to boss me. Her voice was half in half. One end of it was sweet, but the other end contained considerable quinine. The bitterish end was all I ever saw. For instancely, in curl-paper hour of early morning she would arise upward from breakfast and say, “Togo, why you so dub this day? Are you foolish or merely brainless?” Hashly she spoke it.
Jing-jing from telephone.
“Hello—are that you, Clara? How charmed you are! Yes, honey, I should seem very much obliged!” Sweetly she used her voice.
“Why you speak lemons to me and honey to telephone?” I asked to know.
“Because,” she report, “there are two ways of talking—one way for servants, other way for telephone.”
“Sometimes I wish you would talk to me like a telephone,” I require, saddishly.
One raindrop morning this Mrs. Calicutt approach to me and report. “Togo, I am at home to-morrow afternoon.”
“Will you be more at home then than you are now?” I ask it.