Bart says that
dress ain't never out of her mind. She's rasped an' peevish all the
time plannin' how she can fit the pieces in to look like the pictures.
It's worse than fussin' over the cut-up puzzles folks do. Sometimes at
night she'll wake him out of a sound sleep to tell him she's just
thought how she can eke new sleeves out of the side panels, or make a
pleated front for the waist out of the girdle. I guess Bart don't get
much rest durin' makin'-over spells. I saw him yesterday at the
post-office an' he was glum as an oyster; an' when I asked him was he
sick all he said was he hoped there'd be no black satins in heaven."
"I told you she was fixin' it over!" cried Celestina triumphantly. "So
you was at the store, was you, Willie? You didn't say nothin' about
it."
"I forgot I went," confessed the little man. "Lemme see! I believe
'twas more nails took me down."
"Did you get any mail?"
"No--yes--I dunno. 'Pears like I did get somethin'. If I did, it's in
the pocket of my other coat."
Going into the hall he returned with a small white package which he
gave to Celestina.
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