The spell of weather developed sudden. One evening me and Cap'n Jonadab
and Peter T. was having a confab by the steps of the billiard-room,
when Milo beats up from around the corner. He was smiling as a basket of
chips.
"Hello!" hails Peter T. cordial. "You look as if you'd had money left
you. Any one else remembered in the will?" he says.
Milo laughed all over. "Well, well," says he, "I AM feeling pretty good.
Made a ten-strike with Mrs. T. this afternoon for sure.
"That so?" says Peter. "What's up? Hooked a prince?"
A friend of "my daughter's" over at Newport had got engaged to a
mandarin or a count or something 'nother, and the Dowager had been
preaching kind of eloquent concerning the shortness of the nobility crop
round Wellmouth.
"No," says Milo, laughing again. "Nothing like that. But I have got hold
of that antique davenport she's been dying to capture."
One of the boarders at the hotel over to Harniss had been out antiquing
a week or so afore and had bagged a contraption which answered to the
name of a "ginuwine Sheriton davenport." The dowager heard of it, and
ever since she'd been remarking that some people had husbands who cared
enough for their wives to find things that pleased 'em. She wished she
was lucky enough to have that kind of a man; but no, SHE had to depend
on herself, and etcetery and so forth. Maybe you've heard sermons
similar.
So we was glad for Milo and said so.
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