"'I should smile,' said the Ogress. That was all the reply she made.
She talked popular slang along with her other bad habits.

"Toby wept, and groaned, and pleaded, but he could not get another
word out of her. She filled the great soup-kettle with water, set it
over the fire (Toby shuddered to see her), then she sat down to wait
for the grandchildren to come home from school. She was uncommonly
homely, even for an ogress, and she wore a brown calico dress that was
very unbecoming.

"Poor Toby gazed at her in fear and disgust. He looked out of the
door, expecting every moment to see his grandchildren coming, one
behind the other, swinging their little lanterns. School children
always walked one behind the other in Pokonoket. It was against the
law to walk two abreast.

"Finally, when the Ogress was leaning over the soup-kettle, putting
her fingers in, to see if it was hot enough, Toby slipped out of the
door, and ran straight to the minister's.

"He stood outside the study window and groaned.

"'What is the trouble?' asked the minister, poking his head out.

"'Oh,' cried Toby, 'you married me to the--Ogress!'

"'You don't say so!' cried the minister.

"'Yes, I do! What shall I do? She is waiting for my grandchildren, and
the soup-kettle is on!'