 | Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family |  |
HIRSUTE ORNAMENTS.
“Well!” said Mrs. Partington, as she leaned forward,
with her hands resting on the window ledge, and
peered out into the street through a chink in the blinds.
It was n't a deep well, expressive of content or satisfaction,
but it was an ejaculatory well, that found expression
at some object which she had witnessed in the
street. “Well,” said she, “I hope that man is married,
I declare I do; because, if he is n't, I 'm sure he never
will be, for a dreadfuler looking creature I never did see,
with them mustychokes on his mouth — nobody would n't
have him. I 've heerd 'em say that Heaven's best gift
to man was woman; I should say that the next best gift
was a razor to such a man as that. Folks did n't take
pride in looking bad in old times!”
She turned thoughtfully to the wall, where hung in
military rigidity that profile, the cherished gem of bygone
art, the counterfeit presentment of manly grace.
“Ah, Paul!” sighed the dame, “you was an ornament
of your specie, and the cheapest among ten thousand, or
more!” She emphasised the “more,” as if the contrast
was very great indeed between Paul and him who
had passed. But the profile took no notice of what she
said; its gaze, chained to perpetual straightforwardness,
looked never to the right or left; though, at times, she
said it bore a kinder expression about the mouth. But
this must have been her fancy, which gave to every
object she looked upon the hues of her own benignity.
| Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family | |