“Well, skip in, then, and we'll go for a drive.”
Roberta climbed in and the brown horse was made to turn round—which it did not like at all, for it was looking forward to its tea—I mean its oats.
“This IS jolly,” said Bobbie, as the dogcart flew along the road by the canal.
“We could throw a stone down any one of your three chimneys,” said the Doctor, as they passed the house.
“Yes,” said Bobbie, “but you'd have to be a jolly good shot.”
“How do you know I'm not?” said the Doctor. “Now, then, what's the trouble?”
Bobbie fidgeted with the hook of the driving apron.
“Come, out with it,” said the Doctor.
“It's rather hard, you see,” said Bobbie, “to out with it; because of what Mother said.”
“What DID Mother say?”