"Y'are," repeated Jimmy. "Baby an' telltale."
Here Peter, to my infinite delight, squared two small brown fists, and disengaging himself from my restraining hands, advanced belligerently upon his idol.
"You Jimmy," said Peter. "You take that back—quick!"
I swear I saw a gleam of admiration in the Simpson eye.
"Yes," I begged hastily, "do take it back, Jimmy."
Jimmy shifted uneasily upon his capacious feet.
"Well," he began uncertainly. And then a wholly friendly smile irradiated his freckled face. "I was only funning, Peter," he said generously.
I breathed again. Peter dropped his hands to his sides and said happily, "Got any cookies for us, Mavis?"
I rang my silver bell for Sarah, and presently she appeared from the kitchen, greeted Jimmy in none too friendly accents, and disappearing into her domain returned again with a heaped plate of crisp tan cookies and three glasses of lemonade.
"There," said Sarah, grudgingly, "you young limbs!"