"
"Indeed! Now that's nice. I allow she must be very handsome."
"Handsome?" said I, a bit incredulous.
"Why, Tip says she's the best-lookin' woman in the walley, and that
she's a terrible tasty dresser."
"Terrible," I muttered.
"Indeed! Now that's nice. And is she spare or fleshy?"
"Medium," I said. "Just right."
"That's nice. But what'll she run to? It makes a heap of difference
to a woman what she runs to. Now I naterally take on."
"I should say Nanny Pulsifer would naturally lose weight," I answered.
"That's nice. It's so much better to run to that--it's easier gittin'
around. Tip says she has a be-yutiful figger. There's nothin' like
figger. If there's anythin' I hate to see it's a first-class gingham
fittin' a woman like it was hung there to air. But about Tip's wife
agin--she must have a lovely disposition?"
"Splendid," I said.
"That's what Tip says. He told me that oncet in a while when he was
kind of low-down she'd git het-up and spited like, but ordinarily, he
says, she's jest a-singin' and a-singin' and makin' him comf'table and
helpin' the children.
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