“Cluck, cluck, cluck!” scolded the hen. “Billy Treat, turn back; turn right back, I say!”
“Why, Toppy girl!”
“No Toppy-girling me!” she responded, tossing her head saucily. “You were going right by with nary one word to me! I’ll not be wheedled into good nature by any of your soft words, Mr. Billy!”
“Didn’t you notice how sorrowful I looked?” he questioned.
“Sorry? Why, I thought you looked more like a whipped dog. Your poor stub of a tail lay down flat—and that is a pretty sure sign that you have been in some trouble.”
“I have been in trouble, but the trouble is you, Mistress Toppy. I’ve been hunting for you, and had just given up in deep despair.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Why, nothing. I thought I could do something for you.”
“Oh, Billy!”
“Don’t ‘Oh, Billy’ me!” he sniffed in high disdain.