42 At Elm Cottage.

 

chair, and turn over things in my
mind, he never seems like the tall
fellow that he is, but a mite of a
brat, muling and puling just as you
do.’

‘Me don’t mooly pooly,’ exclaimed
Johnny, quite indignantly.

‘Oh, you don’t, don’t you? I
forgot, said the old man, chuckling
to himself. ‘ Well, you needn’t look
so fierce about it; but how comes it
that neither one of you has any shoes
on this soaking wet day

‘Father didn’t think it would rain
like this,’ replied May; and then she
proceeded to explain what had hap-
pened to her own shoes.

‘Well, but about this little lad’s ?’