On one side of the sign I painted—
SOAP-MAKERS'
AND
BOOK-BINDERS'
HOTEL
And on the other side—
UPHOLSTERERS'
AND
DENTISTS'
HOUSE
"Now, then," I said, "I don't believe any of those people will be travelling along the road while we are here, or, at any rate, they won't want to stop."
We admired this sign very much, and sat on the piazza that afternoon to see how it would strike Bill, as he passed by. It seemed to strike him pretty hard, for he gazed with all his eyes at one side of it as he approached, and then, as he passed it, he actually pulled up to read the other side.
"All right!" he called out, as he drove off. "All right! All right!"
Euphemia didn't like the way he said "All right!" It seemed to her, she said, as if he intended to do something which would be all right for him, but not at all so for us. I saw she was nervous about it, for that evening she began to ask me questions about the travelling propensities of soap-makers, upholsterers, and dentists.
"Do not think anything more about that, my dear," I said. "I will take the sign down in the
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