"Albert is to come right aways home." That was Jacob Kalb.
"The twins are to come right out." That was Aunt Mena. For the first time in thirty years Aunt Mena's butter had failed to "get," and she was angry and impatient. She had forgotten her gentle intention to "tame" the twins. "Come right aways out, or you will get a good whipping."
The twins looked critically at the strong wall between them and the enemy. It seemed a time when the dictates of wisdom might yield to those of personal satisfaction.
"We won't," said Louisa Ellen.
"Jacob Calf!" called Ellen Louisa.
"Go upstairs and take Albert," commanded Sarah. Then she turned to the door. "You can't have my children."
"I give you a last chance," said Aunt Mena. "I don't care for the dollar a week. Shall the twins have a good home, or shall they not have a good home?"
"You cannot have my children," said Sarah again, her heart pounding like a trip-hammer.
"Well, then," called Aunt Mena furiously, as she went away.