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"One moment, gentlemen," he interposed in his even voice, "before you go to regrettable extremes. I believe that an even better witness to my identity can easily be secured." "And who's that, Tommie?" "I refer to Judge Harvey." "Judge Harvey!" The lieutenant was startled out of his ironic exultation.
And as they jounced down into their seats the moment the steaming supper was put upon the table, and gazed at it with eager, hungry eyes, and even gave a sniff or two, he felt that here was a field for improvement, indeed. And he smiled. Not that Jim was a bad boy, or a malicious one, but when Barney and Tommie were wrong, it was the thing that they should be set right, of course.
THE trim little maid-servant ran upstairs from her modest little kitchen, trembling at the terrible prospect of having to open the door. Miss Pink, deafened by the barking, had just time to say, "What a very ill-behaved dog!" when a sound of small objects overthrown in the hall, and a scurrying of furious claws across the oil-cloth, announced that Tommie had invaded the house.
As for the children, Tommie would not repeat sailors' lingo at the table under any circumstances, and Jennie will not make herself obnoxiously clever at any time, because she has been brought up too carefully to fail to respect her elders. Both she and Tommie understand themselves thoroughly; and when Mr.
And Tommie, seated on the pump in the bright winter sunshine, looked as if he had something in his mind that pleased him. "Heigh-O," said one of the passers-by. "Here's a witch-cat!" "You are mistaken," replied Tommie with a wink. "I belong to Mother Huldah, and she is the best woman in the village."
"And what have you got there?" asked Mrs. O'Callaghan when he dragged it into the house. "A sled!" cried Barney and Tommie together, pausing on their bedward way, and opening wide their sleepy eyes. "And 'twas mysilf was wonderin' how to get Larry along with me!" exclaimed the mother when Mike had explained the object of the sled. "What's the good of me wonderin' when I've got Moike for my b'y?
So if the rain drop doesn't fall out of bed, and stub its toe on the rocking chair, which might make it so lame that it couldn't dance, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Tommie's kite. "Uncle Wiggily, have you anything special to do today?" asked Tommie Kat, the little kitten boy, one morning as he knocked on the door of the hollow stump bungalow, where Mr.
"They've taken on color, lately." "Oh, my dear, you mustn't say such things," chided Ruth. The work of getting the passengers and their baggage into the boats was soon under way. There was some confusion, not a little evidence of fright on the part of many, and some tears. But among the bravest were little Tommie and Nellie.
"Most of 'em have more than they need, anyway." "Tommie, I believe you're hungry, or your morals wouldn't be so queer!" Mother Huldah said reprovingly. "Hungry!" exclaimed Tommie. "I dream of lobster claws and chicken wings and blue saucers full of yellow wrinkled cream, twelve in a row. No wonder my morals are queer!"
"Can I tell you why my kite is like Buddy, the guinea pig boy?" repeated Tommie, like a man in a minstrel show. "No, Uncle Wiggily, I can not. Why is my kite like Buddy, the guinea pig boy?" "Because," laughed the old rabbit gentleman, "this kite has no tail and neither has Buddy." "Ha, ha!" exclaimed Tommie. "That's right!"
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