My Father burst his nose-ring!
Rosalee giggled!
Carol and I jumped up and down! We clapped our hands!
The Rich Man cocked his head on one side. He looked at our Aunt Esta. At her funny black pointed hat. At her scraggly gray wig. At her great horn-rimmed spectacles. At the hump on her back. "U-m-m," he said. "What do you mean,—'witch-y wiles?'"
"Silence!" said our Aunt Esta. "Read your cards!"
We read our cards.
Carol's card said "Pink Breeze" on it. And "Slimy Frog."
Our Aunt Esta poked Carol twice with her wand. "Pitiful Wretch!" said our Aunt Esta. "It is now two o'clock.—Unless you are back here exactly at three o'clock—bearing a Pink Breeze in your hands—you shall be turned for all time and eternity into a Slimy Green Frog!—Go hence!"
Carol went hence. He henced as far as the Mulberry Tree on the front lawn. He sat down on the grass with the card in his hand. He read the card. And read it. And read it. It puzzled him very much.
"Pitiful Wretch, go hence!" cried our Aunt Esta.