“Ah, why not?” she inquired.
“Tause I don’t like to work.”
“Then,” said she, “you’ll never make a man.”
“Do men have to work?” he asked.
“Certainly,” she replied.
“Then I won’t be a man,” he answered, decidedly.
“Won’t!” exclaimed his mother; “what, then, will you be?”
“I sail be a missernary, and walk wound, and wear dold dlasses!”