ment and the climax. Suggest improvements.

When Widow Perkins saw Widower Parsons coming down the road she looked as
mad as a hornet and stepped to the back door.

"William Henry," she called to the lank youth chopping wood, "you've
worked hard enough for one day. Come in and rest."

"Guess that's the first time you ever thought I needed a rest since I was
born. I'll keep right on chopping till you get through acceptin' old
Hull," he replied, whereupon the widow slammed the door and looked twice
as mad as before.

"Mornin', widdy," remarked the widower, stalking into the room, taking a
chair without an invitation, and hanging his hat on his knee. "Cold day,"
he added cheerfully.

The widow nodded shortly, at the same time inwardly prophesying a still
colder day for him before he struck the weather again.

"Been buyin' a new cow," resumed the caller, impressively.

"Have, eh?" returned the widow, with a jerk, bringing out the ironing
board and slamming it down on the table.

"An' two hogs," went on the widower, wishing the widow would glance at him
just once and see how affectionate he looked. "They'll make pork enough
for all next winter and spring."

"Will, eh?" responded the widow, with a bang of the iron that nearly
wrecked the table.

"An' a--a--lot o' odd things 'round the house; an' the fact is, widdy, you
see--that is, you know--was going to say if you'll agree"--the widower
lost his words, and in his desperation hung his hat on the other knee and
hitched a trifle nearer the ironing board.

"No, Hull Parsons, I don't see a single mite, nor I don't know a particle,
an' I ain't agreein' the least bit," snapped the widow, pounding the
creases out of the tablecloth.

"But say, widdy, don't get riled so soon," again ventured Parsons. "I was
jest goin' to tell you that I've been proposing to Carpenter Brown to
build a new--"

By this time the widow was glancing at him in a way he wished she
wouldn't.

"Is that all the proposin' you've done in the last five mouths, Hull
Parsons?" she demanded stormily. "You ain't asked every old maid for miles
around to marry you, have you, Hull Parsons? An' you didn't tell the last
one you proposed to that if she didn't take you there would be only one
more chance left--that old pepper-box of a Widow Perkins? You didn't say
that, now, did you, Hull Parsons?" and the widow's eyes and voice snapped
fire all at once.

The caller turned several different shades of red