"Nor measles, or chicken-pox?"
"Not a bit of 'em."
"Or mumps? Tell me, now, she really hasn't got the mumps, has she?"
"See here, Master Tom, didn't I jest tell you—"
"No, you didn't tell me, and that's why I'm so anxious to know. If she's got the mumps, and the chilblains, and the ingrowing warts—"
"Oh, crickey! I knew it!" groaned Peleg Snuggers. "I says to myself as I was a-drivin' over, 'if thet Tom Rover comes back, I might as well throw up my job, for he won't give nobody a rest!' If you would only—"
"All right, Peleg, I see you are really and truly bound to go back on me. You hate me!" Tom drew his handkerchief from his pocket. "It is awful, after all I have tried to do for you in the past. I've got to— to—cry! Boo—hoo!" And the boy began to wipe his eyes.
"Look a-here, Master Tom, it ain't nothin' to cry about," said Peleg half suspiciously. "I only give you warnin'—"
"You are so—so hard-hearted, Peleg. Boohoo! I want to go back home!"
And Tom began to sob.
This was too much for the driver, and his face fell.