"You musn't say such things, Billina," said Dorothy, reprovingly. "Now let's go into Pop Over's back yard and get the waffles." "I sort of hate to let that fence go," remarked Mr. Over, nervously, as they walked toward his house. "The neighbors back of us are Soda Biscuits, and I don't care to mix with them." "But I'm hungry yet," declared the girl. "That wheelbarrow wasn't very big."

Just peg with yer foot on the spot, looking up careless at the sky." They went out. And Dickie put his foot on the cross he had scratched with the broken bit of plate. It was close to the withered stalk of the moonflower. "This 'ere garden's in a poor state," said Beale in a loud voice; "wants turning over's what I think against the winter.

Hit that there girt ozebird over's back wi' the broomstick, he be robbing of my young zow. Choog, choog, choog! and a drap more left in the dripping-pail. Surely I am as good as a pig. 'Dunno as thee be, Jan. No straikiness in thy bakkon. And now I come to think of it, Jan, thee zed, a wake agone last Vriday, as how I had got a girt be-ard. Wull 'e stick to that now, Maister Jan?

I'll bet you Paul Revere rode just like Hard does." "Shucks, Matt, those English guys can ride stands to reason they can. Look at the cross-country stuff they do! And on an English saddle at that." "Country? The country they ride over's nothing to what the Irish do. A feller told me " "Hello, boys, what's up? Why the theatre supper?" demanded Hard, entering.

Hit that there girt ozebird over's back wi' the broomstick, he be robbing of my young zow. Choog, choog, choog! and a drap more left in the dripping-pail." Surely I am as good as a pig." "Dunno as thee be, Jan. No straikiness in thy bakkon. And now I come to think of it, Jan, thee zed, a wake agone last Vriday, as how I had got a girt be-ard. Wull 'e stick to that now, Maister Jan?"