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"You's a naughty boy, Buggie;" and here Toddie's tears began to flow afresh. "I AIN'T a bad boy, an' I don't want no old rain nohow, an' that's all about it. An' I don't want to get up, an' Maggie must bring me up my breakfast in bed." "Boo hoo oo," wept Toddie, "wants my brepspup in bed too." "Boys," said I, "now listen.
"When it thundered yesterday it was because the Lord was riding along through the sky and the wheels of his carriage made an awful noise, an' that was the thunder." "Don't like nashty old 'funder," remarked Toddie. "It goesh into our cellar an' makesh all ze milk sour Maggie said so. An' so I can't hazh no nice white tea for my brepspup."
"Toddie's a silly little boy," said Budge, "he always says brepspup for brekbux." "Oh, what does he mean by chunt, Budge?" "I guess he means trunk," replied my elder nephew. Recollections of my childish delight in rummaging an old trunk caused me to smile sympathetically at Toddie, to his great delight. A direful thought struck me. I dashed upstairs. Yes, he did mean my trunk.
In the contemplation of all the shy possibilities my short chat with Miss Mayton had suggested, I had quite forgotten my dusty clothing and the two little living causes thereof. II. The Fate of a Bouquet Next morning at breakfast Toddie remarked, "Ocken Hawwy, darsh an awfoo funny chunt upstairs. I show it to you after brepspup."
"Ocken Hawwy," remarked Toddie, "daysh an awfoo funny chunt up 'tairs awfoo BIG chunt. I show it you after brepspup." "Oh! What does he mean by chunt, Budge?" "I GUESS he means trunk," replied my oldest nephew. Recollections of my childish delight in rummaging an old trunk it seems a century ago that I did it caused me to smile sympathetically at Toddie, to his apparent great delight.