"Go on and make it!" ordered the child.
"Well how do you like this?"
"Once a stubborn little kicker, Kicked until she made me snicker. If she had wings, she couldn't fly, 'Cause she'd be too stubborn to try."
A belligerent look slowly spread over Peaches' face.
"That's no po'try piece," she scoffed, "an' I don't like it at all, an' I won't write it on my slate; not if I never learn to write anything. Mickey-lovest, please make a nice one to save for my book. It's going to have three on ev'ry page, an' a nice piece o' sky like right up there for backs, and mebby—mebby a cow on it!"
"Sure a cow on it," agreed Mickey. "I saw a lot to-day! I'll tell you after supper. Gimme a little time to think. I can't do nice ones right off."
"You did that one right off," said Peaches.
"Sure!" answered Mickey. "I was a little—a little—per_voked!_ And you said that wasn't a nice one."
"And so it wasn't!" asserted Peaches positively.
"If I have a nice one ready when I bring supper, will that do?" questioned Mickey.