No, it wouldn't do to say that. So, nothing was left for Mr. Bolton
but to taste the delicious butter.

"Isn't it very fine?" said his wife, as she saw him place it to his
lips.

"Yes, it's good butter," replied Mr. Bolton, "very good butter."
Though, in fact, it was far from tasting pleasant to him.

"It's more than very good," said Mrs. Bolton, impatiently. "What has
come over you? But wait a little (sic) wwile, and I'll give you
something to quicken your palate. I've made some curds--you are so
fond of them. If you don't praise the sweet cream Mrs. Halpin so
kindly sent over this morning, when you come to eat these curds, I
shall think--I don't know what I shall think."

The dinner proceeded, and, at length, the dessert, composed of curds
and cream, was served.

"Isn't that beautiful?" said Mrs. Bolton, as she poured some of the
cream received from Mrs. Halpin into a saucer of curds, which she
handed to her husband.

Bolton took the curds and ate them. Moreover, he praised the cream;
for, how could he help doing so? Were not his wife's eyes on him,
and her ears open? But never in his life had he found so little
pleasure in eating.

"Do you know," said Mrs. Bolton, after she had served the curds and