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Updated: May 6, 2025
He had heard him. The way girls fell for anyone with the gift of the gab that was what embittered Constable Plimmer. 'He she giggled. 'He calls me Little Pansy-Face. 'If you'll excuse me, miss, said Constable Plimmer coldly, 'I'll have to be getting along on my beat. Little Pansy-Face! And you couldn't arrest him for it! What a world! Constable Plimmer paced upon his way, a blue-clad volcano.
Golden voices giggled delightedly at his bellowed chaff. And Ellen Brown, whom he called Little Pansy-Face, was definitely in love with him. They were keeping company. They were walking out. This crushing truth Edward Plimmer learned from Ellen herself.
"Did you get him for me, Phyllis?" asked Allan when the tumult and the shouting had died, and the caracoling Foxy had buried his hideous little black pansy-face in a costly Belleek dish of water. "Yes," gasped Phyllis from her favorite seat, the floor; "but you needn't keep him unless you want to. I can keep him where you'll never see him can't I, honey-dog-gums?
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