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Updated: May 21, 2025
You get the wood, and we will have a nithe, warm thupper and have a nithe vithit, and then a nithe thleep and pleathant dreamth. Won't we, Buthter?" "If you give us the opportunity," answered Margery sourly. "Thee! Buthter thpoke to me again," chuckled the little, lisping girl.
Did we leave the pails and pans upstairs?" "Yes. Shall I bring them down?" "Oh, no. It is not necessary. Morning will be time enough. Now go to bed. We shall not be disturbed again to-night. Good night, girls. Sweet dreams." "And pleathant nightmareth," mumbled Tommy from under the blanket.
Just about this time Tommy Thompson awoke with a little gasp. She had been dreaming that Buster, in the guise of a pirate, was trying to smother her with a sofa pillow. Tommy had been skirting the edge of one of the "pleathant nightmareth" she had prophesied for the girls on retiring. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Suddenly she uttered a terrified scream.
"How you do, piggy?" said Katie, swinging a stick through the opening by the trough. Piggy ran away, looking very unamiable; and then he came back again, rolling his little eyes, and grunting sulkily. "He don't look pleathant," said Charlie. "No," replied Katie, archly; "I guess um don't want to be kissed." Piggy winked his pink eyes, as if to say, "Ah, but I do."
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