She was dressed in what had been Mrs.Hooven's wedding gown, a cheap affair of "farmer's satin." Mrs.Hooven had pendent earrings of imitation jet in her ears.

Hooven was wearing an old frock coat of Magnus Derrick's, the sleeves too long, the shoulders absurdly too wide.
He and Cutter at once entered into an excited conversation as to the ownership of a certain steer.
"Why, the brand----" "Ach, Gott, der brendt," Hooven clasped his head, "ach, der brendt, dot maks me laugh some laughs.

Dot's goot--der brendt--doand I see um--shoor der boole mit der bleck star bei der vore-head in der middle oaf.

Any someones you esk tell you dot is mein boole.

You esk any someones.