"We-e-ell," says he, "I reckon I shouldn't a done it nohow, but he left the envelope to her letter on his desk, a Miss Toots it come from, and the address was on the back. It was directly afterwards that Robin quits Goober so sudden." "Ah-ha!" says I. "Maggie Toots again, eh?"

"We-e-ell," Miss Sessions deemed it necessary to qualify her statement to this fiery and exact young questioner. "You have to want the right thing, of course, John. You have to want the right thing." "Yes'm," agreed Johnnie heartily. "And I'd 'low it was certainly the right thing, if it was what good folks like you want."

"We-e-ell," he drawls out, still breathin' a bit hard, but gettin' back his gentle smile, "I didn't want to do no fursin' with them constables; but you know Mistuh Phil he told me to see that Robin didn't git into no trouble, and and we-e-ell, I didn't care for their motions none at all, I didn't. So I jes' had to tap 'em a little." "Tappin' is good!" says I. "And how about you, Robin?

The reporter hesitated and glanced guiltily at the dead body. "That's rather strong " "It's not going beyond here, unless I find it necessary. I've played clean with you boys. Suppose you do the same with me." "We-e-ell" reluctantly "he was rather much of a rounder. Nothing coarse about him, but he never was one to resist a woman. Rather the reverse, in fact." "Ever been mixed up in a scandal?"

"Lad dear," he said, "tell me: as ye hear 'em yell at him, and all on account o' what he did t' Cis and yerself, and because they're glad he's been whipped, tell me, scout boy, how d' ye feel towards him in yer own heart?" "We-e-ell, " began Johnnie; "we-e-ell " and stopped.

Killibrew, wouldn't you like better and more trustworthy servants as cooks, as farm-hands, chauffeurs, stable-boys? You see, you and your children and your children's children are going to have to depend on negro labor, as far as we can see, to the end of time." "We-e-ell, yes," admitted Mr. Killibrew, who was not accustomed to considering the end of time.

He painstakingly brushed some ashes from his sleeve, once more the wheezing, chuckling fat man who never takes anything very seriously. "Did you ever try minding your own business?" Grant inquired with much politeness of tone. "We-e-ell, yuh see, m' son, it's my business to mind other people's business!" He chuckled at what he evidently considered a witty retort.

Now, the elder of the strangers drew closer. "I wonder," she began, addressing her hostess with almost a coy air, "if we could induce you to take lunch with us down-town. Wouldn't that be jolly, Louise?" turning. "Awfully jolly!" "Do come!" "Oh, do!" "Moth-er!" Gwendolyn's mother looked down. A sudden color was mounting to her cheeks. Her eyes shone. "We-e-ell," she said, with rising inflection.

Peter went closer, not caring to take the whole village into his confidence. "How came you to turn down my proposition, Mr. Tomwit," he asked, "after we had agreed and drawn up the papers?" "We-e-ell, I had to do it, Peter," explained the old man, loudly. "Why, Mr. Tomwit?" "A white neighbor wanted me to, Peter," boomed the cavalryman. "Who, Mr. Tomwit?" "Henry Hooker talked me into it, Peter.

'We-e-ell! said the Dean, in a more confidential tone, and slightly glancing around him, 'I would not say so, generally. Not generally. Enough of suspicion attaches to him to no, I think I would not say so, generally. Mr. Crisparkle bowed again. 'It does not become us, perhaps, pursued the Dean, 'to be partisans. Not partisans.