Humph!——said my father.
(The dialogue ceased for a moment.)
——(I am very short myself,—continued my father gravely.
You are very short, Mr _Shandy_,—said my mother.
Humph! quoth my father to himself, a second time: in muttering which,
he plucked his pillow a little further from my mother’s,—and turning
about again, there was an end of the debate for three minutes and a
half.
——When he gets these breeches made, cried my father in a higher tone,
he’ll look like a beast in ’em.
He will be very awkward in them at first, replied my mother.
——And ’twill be lucky, if that’s the worst on’t, added my father.
It will be very lucky, answered my mother.
I suppose, replied my father,—making some pause first,—he’ll be exactly
like other people’s children.——