Henry ought to get a good article out of it.'
As a matter of fact it was the only thing that ever was got out of the
invention.
William, being an Irishman, didn't let failure depress him in the
least. We were all glad to see him rational again--as rational as
could be expected from him, I mean. As Elizabeth was wont to express
it, ''E aint screwed up like other folk, so what can you expect.' But
as I have said, she did not approve of William. It was not so much
that she took exception to the trail of tobacco ash that followed in
his wake, or the unusual litter he created during his inventive period.
She resented the fact that he was unmarried, having, at all times, a
strong objection to celibacy.
'When a man gets to the age o' that there Mr. Roarings' (William's
surname is Rawlings, so she didn't get so far out for her)--'an' isn't
married 'e's cheatin' some pore girl out of 'er rights, I ses,' she
declared. 'Selfishness! Spendin' all 'is money on 'isself. W'y isn't
'e married?'
'I don't know, Elizabeth,' I replied, 'but if you like, I'll ask him.'
'That'll do no good. 'E orter be thrown together with the right kind
o' young lady and kept up to the scratch. That's wot orter be done.
I'll look up the cards for 'im and see wot 'is Signs is. I'd like to
see 'im married and settled down.'
'Perhaps you mean to marry him yourself, Elizabeth?'
She gave a snort of indignation.
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