“Who goeth there?” cried the valorous Pip.
“Aunt Stanshy,” said a feeble voice.
“Advanth and give the counterthign?”
“I can’t.”
Pip leveled his broom at once. Poor Stanshy, how she wished she had made her will.
“Bang!” he shouted.
Could she survive this?
“Thay pertatoeth!” he whispered.
“Pertatoes,” she fortunately shrieked.
“All right,” said Pip, and she was spared a second shot.