"You poor old fat goose," she said, with a sort of gentle pity.
"I'm none so fat, I'll thank you!" Mrs. Peck shot back, her tenderest point touched, for the delusion of a fleshy lady is not confined to social circles and city squares.
Edith grinned, her corrective douche having shown the desired effect. Mrs. Peck's flurry of wrath began to subside. She sat down, panting as if she had been chasing a scattered band of sheep.
"I'll learn him!" she promised. "He'll stay there with them sheep till wool grows down to his eyes like a ram. I'll go over there in the morning, I'll law-book him! I'll wear it out on his head."
"You better take him a pie," Elmer suggested.
"And give him a dime for chewin' gum," Edith contributed to the domestic advice.
"I'll comb that long hair of his with a board full of tenpenny nails! I'll learn him that no man that ever marries me's goin' to hop up and quit because he can't squander my money on hair oil and fancy vests."
"He's learnin'," Elmer assured her from his place at the table. "I wouldn't be surprised if he rared up and bit a sheep one of these days. He knows all about divorces and property."
"He can't touch a cent of my money, divorce or no divorce."
"Alimony," said Elmer, with glum finality. "If you marry a cripple you've got to support him."
"He'll be a cripple when IJ git through with him! I'm goin' over there early in the morning, and if that excuse opens his head to me about a divorce I'll lay him
