A Fearful Aspect, at Least.
“George,” she screamed; “my neck!”
“What’s the matter?”
“There’s a pillacatter——”
“A what?”
“A tap-e-killer——”
“What in the world do you mean?”
“Oh, dear!” she moaned, as she clutched him frantically; “a kitterpaller! You know, George! A patterkiller on my neck!”
“Oh!” said George, with evident relief, and he proceeded to brush the future butterfly away.