"What do you mean? Are you luny?"
"I meant a beef tongue, not too much salted," replied Tommy.
"What did you do with the oysters?"
"Won't you lick me, if I tell you?"
"N-no."
"When I found the horse wouldn't look at them, I called Charley Barker, and we polished them off between us."
Mr. Smithers let go of Tommy's ear and looked at him ferociously.
"You young villain!" he exclaimed; "I'll skin you some of these days."
At this Mrs. Smithers burst into a fresh torrent of grief.
"Oh, that I should have to hear my boy called such a name!" she sobbed.