"Say--how much do you think I had to pay the milliner for my wife's last
spring bonnet? Thirty-six dollars and seventeen cents."
"Rather steep, isn't it? What are you going to do about it?"
"Do about it? Nothing. Because, don't you see, old man, I daren't say
beans to it. My wife has the delirium trimmins."
Mr. W. J. Lampton in the New York Times thus discourses on the tender
topic: