Daggett mildly. "Mebbe her ideas is all right; and anyhow, s'long as
she's paying out good money--"
"Oh, she'll pay! she'll pay!" said Mr. Daggett, with a large gesture.
"Ain't no doubt about her paying for what she wants."
He shoved his plate aside, and tipped back in his chair with a heavy
yawn.
"She's asked me to see about the wall paper, Abby," he continued,
bringing down his chair with a resounding thump of its sturdy legs.
"And she's got the most outlandish notions about it; asked me could I
match up what was on the walls."
"Match it up? Why, ain't th' paper all moldered away, Henry, with the
damp an' all?"
"'Course it is, Abby; but she says she wants to restore the
house--fix it up just as 'twas. She says that's th' correct thing to
do. 'Why, shucks!' I sez, 'the wall papers they're gettin' out now is
a lot handsomer than them old style papers. You don't want no old
stuff like that,' I sez. But, I swan! you can't tell that girl
nothing, for all she seems so mild and meachin'. I was wonderin' if
you couldn't shove some sense into her, Abby. Now, I'd like th' job
of furnishin' up that house with new stuff. 'I don't carry a very big
stock of furniture,' I sez to her; but--"
"Why, Hen-ery Daggett!" reproved his wife, "an' you a reg'lar
professing member of the church! You ain't never carried no stock of
furniture in the store, and you know it."
"That ain't no sign I ain't never goin' to, Abby," retorted Mr.
Daggett with spirit.
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