"Huh!" sniffed Spike, "a lot o' good that 'ud do me when I was busy pushin' up th' daisies. It's what I want now that matters."
"An' what you want now, Arthur, is a rod of iron—good 'n' heavy. Discipline's your cryin' need, an' you're sure goin' t' get it."
"Oh? Where?"
"At college! My land, think of you at Yale or Harvard or C'lumbia—"
"Sure you can think; thinkin' can't cut no ice."
"Anyway, you're goin' soon as you're fit; Mr. Geoffrey says so."
"Oh, Geoff's batty—he's talkin' in his sleep. I ain't goin' t' no college—Geoff's got sappy in th' bean—"
"Well, you tell him so."
"Sure thing—you watch me!"
"No, I'll get you somethin' t' eat—some milk an'—"