Trapes, I can slice ham and beef with any one on earth."
"D' ye understand picklin' and seasonin'?"
"Ah, there you have me again; I fear I don't."
"Then you ain't no good to Jacob Pffeffenfifer!"
"On second thoughts, I'm not wholly sorry," answered Ravenslee gravely.
"You see, a name like that would worry me, it would shake my nerve; I
might cut beef instead of ham, or ham instead of--"
"Mr. Geoffrey!" quoth Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows.
"Sober as a judge, Mrs. Trapes and--by Jupiter!"
"My land! What is it?"
"An idea--look!" and Ravenslee pointed down into the yard.
"Why, it's only Tony!" said Mrs. Trapes, glancing down a vista of
riotous garments.
"Precisely," answered Ravenslee, rising and stretching his long arms,
"Tony has solved my difficulty; I'll go into the peanut trade."
"What? Sell peanuts? You?"
"Why not? 'Man is born--' you know."
"But--my land! Only dagos and guinneys sells peanuts!"
"Splendid! I shall be the exception, Mrs. Trapes. Anyway, a peanut man
I'll be!" And catching up his disreputable hat, Ravenslee nodded and
left his landlady staring after him and murmuring "well!" at intervals.
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