“Mother,” shouted one of the boys, snatching the pencil from her grasp, “I’m hungry. I didn’t have any supper.”
“Yes, you did!” she asserted. “I saw Gladys give you a bowl of bread and milk.”
“Emerald took it away from me and drank it up.”
“Didn’t neither!” denied a shaggy looking boy. “I spilled it.”
He accompanied this denial by a fierce punch in his accuser’s ribs.
“Here!” said the author of Modern Antiquities, taking a nickel from her pocket, “go get yourself some popcorn, Demetrius.”
“I ain’t Demetrius! I’m Pythagoras.”
“It makes no difference. Go and get it and don’t speak to me again tonight.”
The boy had already snatched the coin, and he now started for the exit, but his outgoing way was instantly blocked by a promiscuous pack of pugilistic Polydores, and an ardent and general onslaught followed.