So then Swatty was scared.
“No, don't do it!” he said.
“I will, too, do it!” Lucy answered back. “I guess I know your father, and I guess my father buys clothes of him, and I guess we take milk of your mother, and I guess I will, too, ask him if I want to!”
Well, Swatty couldn't answer back because he had Lucy for his secret girl like I had Mamie Little.
So I got up and stood in front of Lucy and pushed her a little, because she wasn't my girl but only my sister, and I said:
“You will not do it. You go home!”
“You stop pushing me! I won't go home.”
“Yes, you will, when I say so!” I said.
I was going to tell her that as soon as there were any more old fashion plates at Swatty's father's, Swatty would swi—would get one for Mamie, but Lucy got mad because I just took hold of her arm too hard between my thumb and finger. She said I pinched her, but I did not; I just sort of took hold of her that way. She ran back a way and stuck out her tongue at me.
“Now, just for that, Mr. Smarty,” she yelled, “I'm going to tell Mamie on you!”