“I didn’t speak, uncle,” said Sam, “but I will, and I say a jolly good job too, and good riddance of bad rubbish.”
“Sam, dear, you shouldn’t,” said his mother, in a gentle tone of reproof.
“Yes, I should; it’s quite true.”
“Hold your tongue, sir.”
“All right, father; but we shall have some peace now.”
“And I am to have all the disturbance, eh?” said Uncle Richard; “and the china vases thrown at me and smashed, eh?”
Tom darted a quick look at his uncle, and saw that he was ready to give him a nod and smile, which sent a thrill through him.
“You’ll have to lick him half-a-dozen times a week,” continued Sam.
“Indeed,” said Uncle Richard good-humouredly; “anything else?”
“Yes, lots of things,” cried Sam excitedly; “I could tell you—”