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"What a funny ow, ow, it'h Papa! it'h Papa! and he told me it wath Dicky. I'm afwaid! Whereth Dicky gone to? I want Bab, take me to Bab!" For the Stone had done its work once more, and this time with happier results; with a supreme relief and joy, which no one who has read this book can fail to understand, Mr. Bultitude felt that he actually was his old self again.
The little editor shriveled before him as he began: "What do you mean by holding up one of my oldest friends in this fashion? Don't you know he's at perfect liberty to walk into my office at any time without so much as knocking?" "Yeth," admitted the little editor feebly. "Then what do you mean by holding him up and subjecting him to such discourtesy ?" "I thought he wath Dr. John Hall." "Dr.
Out come his mither like a fury, skirling about her hoose, and her servants, and her weans. 'Your servant! says I 'your servant! You're a nice-looking trollop to talk aboot servants, says I." "Did ye really, John?" "Man, that wath bauld o' ye." "And what did she say?" "Oh, she just kept skirling! And then, to be sure, Gourlay must come out and interfere!
My father thayth I hop around like a thand flea at a clam bake mythelf, but if I wath fat I couldn't do that, could I?" asked Tommy with a sidelong glance at Buster. Margery, who had been an interested listener to the conversation, now turned her back, elevating her nose disdainfully. She made no reply to Tommy's fling at her.
"I thuppothe they will all be looking at me and following me about ath though I wath thome thort of curiothity," complained Grace. "Of course you would not like that. It would embarrass you, wouldn't it, Tommy?"
The turkey looked on with some surprise, and he became alarmed when he saw his foster-fathers clasped in an embrace more of anger than of love. "I'll eat 'im all alone!" Jericho Bob cried. "No, yer sha'n't!" the other shouted. The turkey fled in a circle about the yard. "Now, look yere," said Julius Cæsar, who had conquered. "We're goin' to be squar'. He wath your egg, but who brought 'im up? Me!
At this moment Charlie Hill, Aunt Chloe's boy, passed by with his fishing-rod and line. So Johnnie could not stay to hear Miss Rose then. He caught up his straw hat, seized his shrimp-net, and ran off, without even saying, "Excuse me." "That wath very imperlite," observed Mabel. "And Johnnie began asking the questions too! He ithn't very thad."
"It'th a fine morning, Mr. Gourlay," he simpered. "There's noathing wrong with the morning," grunted Gourlay, as if there was something wrong with the Deacon. "We wath wanting to thee ye on a very important matter, Mithter Gourlay," lisped the Deacon, smiling up at the big man's face, with his head on one side, and rubbing his fingers in front of him.
Then there were trackth about the place, trackth of heavy bootth, and a mark in the thand where thomething heavy had been put down. It looked like a box. I gueth it wath. The men had taken the box between them and carried it up and down the thhore ath far ath I could thee. You know, the tide wathhed the marks out near down to the thea."
"Buthter thought thhe wath killed, but after I told her thhe wath all right, thhe felt better," observed Tommy, with a sidelong glance at Margery. "Just as though I'd pay any attention to what you say," retorted Margery, her chin in the air. "You talk entirely too much." "I'm so glad you weren't hurt, Harriet," said Hazel, "but I'm sorry you are so wet."
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