Howard Eliot having left his charges safely at home went to his lonely ranch haunted by rebellious thoughts which Mrs. Wopp would have translated, “Here endeth my knowledge of the female speeshie.”,
“I think the linin’ of Miss Gordon’s cloud needs polishin’ these days,” ventured Betty, shyly.,
The dutiful husband drew from his pocket a long slip of paper and a small stubby pencil. Having a poor memory, he had formed the habit of making a note of everything his wife suggested, so that he could fulfill her wishes in future. The notes were plentiful, but they failed in some unaccountable way to prod his memory..
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