[figure description] Page 113.[end figure description]

“What a queer place this Boston is!” said Mrs.
Partington, when she first came here from the country.
“I was walking along the street just now, and saw on a
sign `Hair-Dressing.' `Something like guano, I guess,
for the hair,' said I to myself. `I declare, I 'm a good
mind to look at some.' So I went in and asked a dear,
pretty young man, smelling as sweet as catnip, to let me
look at some of his hair manure, — I wanted to be as
polite as possible. Gracious! how he stared at me, just
as if I 'd a been a Hottenpot, or a wild Arad. `I mean
your hair-dressing,' said I.

“`O, ah, yes!' said he; `set down here in the big
chair, mem, — scratch, perhaps, mem!'

“`Scratch,' said I, completely dumbfounded; `you
saucy fellow! I can do all my own scratching, and some
of yourn, too, if you say that agin, — scratch, indeed!'—
and I went right down the stairs.”

She never before had hinted that she stood in need of
any hair tonic, though everybody knew that she had worn
a wig for twenty years.

Mrs. Partington says that it makes no difference to
her if flour is dear or cheap, she always has to pay the
same price for half a dollar's worth.

p677-131

Previous section

Next section