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Updated: June 19, 2025
With the help of the tears it was very effective. "I'm jest as bad as bad can be. I know a whole string of cuss words an' I can say them as fast as now-I-lay-me. Doggone, devil, deuce, dam, da " "Oh, Peter!" gasped Polly, putting her hand over her brother's mouth. "Don't you stop me, Polly," sputtered Peter. "I ain't near done." Mrs. Thraves turned away in disgust.
"I fancy it would be more satisfactory if we adopted an infant," she said to Dr. Weston, who was almost bursting with pent-up laughter. "Perhaps a little girl would be less apt to turn out badly. Boys are so deceptive. To think of that angel face! Such language!" Mr. Thraves stood for a moment looking wistfully at Polly and Peter, who still clung to each other.
Why don't she be a preacher herself if she wants a preacher so bad? Why didn't she go marry a preacher an' have a whole lot of preacher chilluns? Say, Polly, please don't be mad of me. Did you know I was such a pretty cusser? I made up that cussin' all to once. It was just as easy as anything. I kinder s'prised myself." Mr. Thraves gave an involuntary chuckle.
"But his own name is a good name," spoke Polly, holding her cropped head proudly. "Peter Waller is a very fine name. I have heard my mother say so often." "Oh, you have! Well it is no better than Peter Thraves would be. My name is Mrs. Thraves, child." The little girl was not a bit impressed. "And mine is Miss Mary Washington Waller, Polly for short," spoke Polly, her head still up.
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