"You must just be contented, papa.

Everything's going to be all right, and you mustn't get to worrying about doing anything.

We own this house it's all clear--and you've taken care of mama and me all our lives; now it's our turn." "No, sir!" he said, querulously.

"I don't like the idea of being the landlady's husband around a boarding-house; it goes against my gizzard.
_I_ know: makes out the bills for his wife Sunday mornings--works with a screw-driver on somebody's bureau drawer sometimes--'tends the furnace maybe--one the boarders gives him a cigar now and then.

That's a FINE life to look forward to! No, sir; I don't want to finish as a landlady's husband!" Alice looked grave; for she knew the sketch was but too accurately prophetic in every probability.