Our washerwoman has had
twins, too, and it made the wash late, and her husband is angry
about it."
"Oh," said Alfred, with a comprehensive nod, but Maggie was not
to be so easily disposed of.
"If you please, mum," she objected, "it ain't about the wash.
It's about our baby girls."
"Girls?" exclaimed Zoie involuntarily.
"Girls?" repeated Alfred, drawing himself up in the fond
conviction that all his heirs were boys, "No wonder your pa's
angry. I'd be angry too. Come now," he said to Maggie, patting
the child on the shoulder and regarding her indulgently, "you go
straight home and tell your father that what HE needs is BOYS."
"Well, of course, sir," answered the bewildered Maggie, thinking
that Alfred meant to reflect upon the gender of the offspring
donated by her parents, "if you ain't afther likin' girls, me
mother sint the money back," and with that she began to feel for
the pocket in her red flannel petticoat.
"The money?" repeated Alfred, in a puzzled way, "what money?"
It was again Zoie's time to think quickly.
"The money for the wash, dear," she explained.
"Nonsense!" retorted Alfred, positively beaming generosity, "who
talks of money at such a time as this?" And taking a ten dollar
bill from his pocket, he thrust it in Maggie's outstretched hand,
while she was trying to return to him the original purchase
money.
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