“Mother read me all about job,” continued Lina; “he was afflicted with boils and his wife knit him a job's comforter to wrap around him, and he—”
“And he sat under a 'tato vine;” put in Frances eagerly, “what God grew to keep the sun off o' his boils and—”
“That was Jonah,” said Lina, “and it wasn't a potato vine; it was—”
“No, 't wasn't Jonah neither; Jonah is inside of a whale's bel—”
“Frances!”
“Stommick,” Frances corrected herself, “and a whale swallow him, and how's he going to sit under a pumpkin vine when he's inside of a whale?”
“It was not a pumpkin vine, it—”
“And I 'd jus' like to see a man inside of a whale a-setting under a morning-glory vine.”
“The whale vomicked him up,” said Jimmy.
“What sorter thing is a octopus like what y' all say is in Miss Pollie Bumpus's head?” asked Billy.