The airs she is
giving herself! And all because she was born in America, the frog
that she is."
I soon made Meyer's acquaintance. He was a dark man of forty,
with Oriental sadness in his eyes. To lend his face capitalistic
dignity he had recently grown a pair of side-whiskers, but one day,
a week or two after I met him, he saw a circus poster of "Jo Jo, the
human dog," and then he hastened to discard them
"I don't want to look like a man-dog," he explained, gaily, to his
mother, who was unpleasantly surprised by the change.
"Man-dog nothing," she protested, addressing herself to me. "He
was as handsome as gold in those whiskers. He looked like a
regular monarch in them." And then to him: "I suppose it was that
treasure of a wife you have who told you to have them taken off.
It's a lucky thing she does not order you to have your foolish head
taken off."
"You better shut up, mamma," he said, sternly. And she did
He called to see his parents quite frequently, sometimes with some
of his children, but never with his wife, at least not while I lived
there.
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