The widow Beasley's deafness was not her only failing.

In fact she was altogether a failure, so far as her housekeeping was concerned.
She could cook, after a fashion, but the fashion was so limited that even the bill of fare at the perfect boarding house looked tempting in retrospect.
"Baked beans again, Cy!" exclaimed Asaph, dropping in one evening after supper.

"'Tain't Saturday night so soon, is it ?" "No," was the dismal rejoinder.

"It's Tuesday, if my almanac ain't out of joint.

But we had beans Saturday and they ain't all gone yet, so I presume we'll have 'em till the last one's swallowed.