"
"You do put heart into a man," murmured the little fellow. "Wal, sir,
we sot down an' looked through the album. And on the first page was
Miss Birdie's father, the mortician and arterialist."
"The what?" we exclaimed.
"Undertaker and _em_-bammer. He's an expert, too. Why, Miss
Birdie was a-tellin' me--"
I ventured to interrupt him. "I don't think, Jasperson, I should like
an undertaker for a father-in-law. Have you considered that point?"
"I have, gen'lemen. It might come in mighty handy. Wal, he was the
homeliest critter I ever seen. I dassn't ring in that little song an'
dance you give me. And on the nex' page was Mis' Dutton." He sighed
softly and looked upward.
"The mother," said Ajax briskly. "Now, I dare swear that she's a good-
looking woman. Nature attends to such matters. Beauty often marries
the b---- the homely man."
"Mis' Dutton," said Jasperson solemnly, "is now a-singing in the
heavenly choir, an' bein' dead I can't say nothing; but, gen'lemen,
ye'll understand me when I tell ye that Miss Birdie never got her fine
looks from her maw. Not on your life!"
"Doubtless," said Ajax sympathetically, "there was something in the
faces of Miss Dutton's parents that outweighed the absence of mere
beauty: intelligence, intellect, character.
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