"Why not now?" I demanded, growing warm under the collar at the idea of
the darky having been impudent.
"No, no, restrain your impetuosity. I said to-morrow morning.
"But what has he been doing?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing at all out of the way--he's such an easy-going chap, you
know."
"Well," I said, "I don't understand. Zacchy's all right, and I quite
fancy him. Now, why should I scold him in the morning?"
[Illustration]
"You see, he has to beat the carpets to-morrow, and strikes ever so
much harder when he's in a bad temper."
What do you think of that?
Who, but a woman could have conceived such a master stroke of genius?