"Then, under the circumstances I think the man ought to say: 'To hell
with the spoon,' grab a gun, go out and shoot up a bear and a couple of
wild turkeys for breakfast, throttle some coin out of some nearby
business corporation, send two to five trained nurses back to the
wigwam, stay down town to lunch and then go home with a tender little
kiss for the madame who meets him fluffy and smiling at the door. That's
my idea of true connubial bliss. Applications considered in the order of
their reception. Nell, you are sweet enough to eat in that blue muslin.
I'm glad I asked you to get one just that shade!"

And the inane chorus of pleased laughs that followed Polk Hayes's
brainless disposal of the important question in hand made me ashamed of
being a woman--though it was funny. Still I bided my time and Polk saw
the biding, I could tell by the expression in the corners of his eyes
that he kept turned away from me.

And in less than a half-hour he was left to my mercies, anything but
tender. Sallie took Nell and Caroline over home to help her decide how
wide a band of white it would be decorous for her to sew in the neck of
her new black meteor crepe. I see it coming that we will all have to
unite in getting Sallie out of mourning and into the trappings of
frivolity soon and I dread it. It takes so many opinions on any given
subject to satisfy Sallie that she ought to keep a tabulated
advice-book.

"Evelina," said Polk, experimentally, after he had seen them safely
across the street, and he moved along the steps until he sat against my
skirts, "are your family subject to colic?"