nice rustic-style bench or something like that, that darn' squeak would start in again, and Cousin Ed—he thinks he's such a wiz at cars, but Lord love you, he couldn't locate that squeak any more'n I could.
★
But's I say: I guess we're about as well fixed as most folks and we certainly don't have to get away from home to enjoy ourselves, but when I said to my wife, "I kind of got an idea you and Delmerine might come along with me and give New York the once-over," she looked like somebody'd left her a million dollars.
And Delmerine she just hollers, "Oh boy! I'll give those Manhattan cabarets a look at a live one for once!"
"And we might stop at Cousin Walter's in Troy, on the way," I says.
"Oh no, let's not," says my wife.
"But we got to go there! Ain't Cousin Walter living there?" I says.
