"Well?" queried Tess, as her sister seemed inclined to stop.
"I didn't see what good that would do, myself," confessed Dot. "Telling Mrs. Pinkney, I mean. And Sammy says to her: 'What's the use of telling you, Ma? You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!' I don't think you could fling that hist'ry straight at Miss Pepperpot, Tess."
"Huh!" said Tess, not altogether pleased. "I feel I could hit her, anyway."
"Maybe Aggie could learn you the names of those sov-runs——"
"'Sovereigns'!" exclaimed Tess. "For pity's sake, get the word right, child!"
Dot pouted and Tess, being in a somewhat nagging mood—which was entirely strange for her—continued:
"And don't say 'learn' for 'teach.' How many times has Ruthie told you that?"
"I don't care," retorted Dorothy Kenway. "I don't think so much of the English language—or the English sov-er-reigns—so now! If folks can talk, and make themselves understood, isn't that enough?"
"It doesn't seem so," sighed Tess, despondent again as she glanced at the open history.
"Oh, I tell you what!" cried Dot, suddenly eager. "You ask Neale O'Neil. I'm sure he can help you. He teached me how to play jack-stones."