More on the iron
gray, sir."
"That would certainly be more becoming," said momma. "And I like that
invisible line. But it's rather too woolly. I'm afraid it wouldn't keep
its appearance. What do you think, Mamie?"
"Oh, there's no _wool_liness, madam." The gentleman's outfitter's tone
implied that wool was the last thing he would care to have anything to
do with. "It's the nap. And as to the appearance of these goods"--he
smiled slightly--"well, we put our reputation on them, that's all. I
can't say more than that. But I have the same thing in a smooth finish,
if you would prefer it."
"I think I would prefer it. Wouldn't you, Mamie?"
The man brought the same thing in a smooth finish, and looked
interrogatively at poppa.
"Oh, I prefer it, too," said he, with a profound assumption of
intelligent interest. "Were you thinking of having the pants made of the
same material, Augusta?"
The gentleman's outfitter suddenly turned his back, and stood thus for
an instant struggling with something like a spasm. Knowing that if
there's one thing in the world momma hates it's the exhibition of
poppa's sense of humour, I walked to the door.
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