"
Arethusa stared blankly.
"Well," said the aunt, "if you can't hear, you'd better take my
ear-trumpet and I'll say it over again."
"What kind of cotton?" Arethusa yelled.
"Not _stockin's!_" said Aunt Mary; "Cotton! Cotton! C-O-T-T-O-N! It beats
the Dutch how deaf everyone is gettin', an' if I had your ears in
particular, Arethusa, I'd certainly hire a carpenter to get at 'em with a
bit-stalk. Jus's if you didn't know as well as I do how many stockin's
I've got already! I should think you'd quit bein' so heedless, an' use
your commonsense, anyhow. I've found commonsense a very handy thing in
talkin' always. Always."
Arethusa launched herself full tilt into the ear-trumpet.
"What--kind--of--cotton?" she asked in that key of voice which makes the
crowd pause in a panic.
Aunt Mary looked disgusted.
"The Boston kind," she said, nipping her lips.
Arethusa took a double hitch on her larynx, and tried again.
"Do you mean thread?"
Aunt Mary's disgust deepened visibly.
"If I meant silk I guess I wouldn't say cotton. I might just happen to say
silk. I've been in the habit of saying silk when I meant silk and cotton
when I meant cotton, for quite a number of years, and I might not have
changed to-day--I might just happen to not have. I might not have--maybe."
Arethusa withered under this bitter irony.
"How many spools do you want?" she asked in a meek but piercing howl.
"I don't care," said Aunt Mary loftily. "I don't care how many--or what
color--or what number.
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