'Bless me!
I had forgotten that Mrs. Clover-leaf had such a voice,' thought he.
"'What do you want?' said the voice again.
"It did not sound quite so sharp this time. He had become a little
used to it, and, after all, a sharp voice would not prevent her being
neat and pleasant and stirring the soup carefully.
"So he said, as sweetly and coaxingly as he was able, 'I have come to
see if you would like to marry me, Mrs. Clover-leaf.'
"'I don't know,' said the sharp voice, 'I had not thought of changing
my condition.'
"'All you would have to do,' said Toby pleadingly, 'would be to stir
the soup for my grandchildren's dinner, while I knit the stockings.'
"There came a sound like the smacking of lips out of the darkness
within the house. 'Oh! you have grandchildren; I forgot,' said the
voice; 'how many?'
"'Six,' replied Toby.
"'I shall be pleased to marry you,' cried the voice; and Toby heard
the squeaking of shoes, as if the widow were coming.
"'When shall we be married?' said the sharp voice right in Toby's ear.
"He jumped so that he could not answer for a minute. 'Well,' said he
finally--'I don't want to hurry you, Mrs. Clover-leaf, but the soup is
to be made for dinner, and if I don't finish the pair of stockings I
am on to-day, my eldest grandchild will have to go barefoot. A pair of
stockings only lasts one a week.
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