"Put not thy trust in princes," croaked Dismal Jones.
"Is he kind?" asked Bandy Robinson.
"Oh, he has a sunny disposition," assured Jack, smiling.
"A sunny disposition," chirped Griswold, from the top of the table, upon which he had climbed so that he might be out of the way. "By that I presume that you mean he will make it hot for any other dog he may tackle."
"Hold on, Danny, old man!" cried Jack, reprovingly. "Haven't I treated you right?"
"Not lately, but if you've got any beer in the coop you can."
"That gives me a pain!" cried Robinson.
"You must have been eating window glass," chuckled Griswold. "That's how you happen to feel the pane."
"You ramed little bunt—I mean you blamed little runt!" exclaimed Rattleton, catching Danny by the
neck. "If you keep up this reckless punning you'll receive a check some day."