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“How do you know?” His fork having safely landed its cargo, Mr. Wopp laid it carefully down and remarking, “I must make a note of that,” he began to inscribe Nell’s diplomatic request. As he leaned over the paper, his head shone like a round china lamp-shade, its shining expanse relieved here and there, by long wisps of grey hair. “Yes, yes; take us to the park, papa,” piped one half of the Siamese Twins..
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Conrad
Mrs. Wopp viewed with misgiving the ornate writing not yet erased from the previous lesson. She feared her own handwriting would suffer by comparison. “Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy. “Put a nose an’ eyes over his own planner an’ you’d think there’s the man hisself,” flung back Mrs. Wopp. “Just in time, I reckon,” the Sheriff said[219] facetiously; “pull up that chest and come along to our party.”.
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