My Neighbor's Wife

By William F. Jenkins

HE is thin and angular. Her features are sharp, her hands are boney [sic], and she takes no care of her nails. She meddles. There is no gossip that she does not know and peddle for other choice bits of scandal. She spies on her other neighbors, and tattles, to make trouble. Her figure is that of an ironing-board. She is an economical woman—her children look half-fed.

I look at her and wonder. Years ago, I called her “Honey!”