is still developing," said Mary.
"What has she developed?" I inquired.
"Up to the present time she has developed the cook's temper and she
has developed the baby's appetite, and a couple of bill collectors
developed a pain in the neck when they couldn't see her; and if
things go on in this way I think this will soon develop into a
foolish house!" said Mary, the nurse.
A half hour later while I was hiding under the hammock on the front
porch, not daring to breathe above a whisper for fear I would get
my picture taken again, my wife rushed out exclaiming, "Oh, joy!
Oh, joy! John, I have developed two pictures!"
[Illustration: "Oh, joy! John, I have developed two pictures"]
I wish you could have seen the expression on Peaches' face.
In order to develop the films a picturesque assortment of drugs and
chemicals have to be used.
Well, my wife had used them.
A silent little stream of wood alcohol was trickling down over her
left ear into her Psyche knot, and on the end of her nose about six
grains of bichloride of potash was sending out signals of distress
to some spirits of turpentine which was burning on the top of her
right eyebrow.
Something dark and lingering like iodine had given her chin the
double cross and her apron looked like the remnants of a porous
plaster.
Her right hand had red, white, green, purple and magenta marks all
over it, and her left hand looked like the Fourth of July.
"John!" she yelled; "here it is! My goodness, I am so excited!
See what a fine picture of you I took!"
She handed me the picture, but all I could see was a wood-shed with
the door wide open.
"A good picture of the woodshed," I said; "but whose woodshed is
it?"
"A wood-shed!" exclaimed my wife; "why, that is your face, John.
And where you think the door is open is only your mouth!"
I looked crestfallen and then I looked at the picture again, but my
better nature asserted itself and I made no attempt to strike this
defenceless woman.
Then she handed me another picture and said, "John, here is one I
took of you and little Peaches!"
Little Peaches is the name of our baby.
We call her Little Peaches because that's what she is.
I looked at the picture and then I said to big Peaches, "All I can
see is Theodore, our colored gardener, walking across lots with a
sack of flour on his back!"
"John, you are so stupid," said my wife. "How can you expect to
see what it is when you are holding the pi
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