“We’re goin’ home
We’re goin’ home
We’re goin’ home
To die no more.”
Sang Budge through the hall next morning, and he repeated the lines over and over so many times that they at last impressed themselves upon the mind of Toddie, who asked:
“Budgie, izh you a-tellin’ de troof?”
“What ’bout?”
“Why, ’bout not dyin’. Don’t little boys hazh to die after goin’ to live wif their uncles an’ aunts for a little while?”
“Oh, of course they do, but I’m so happy I’ve got to sing somethin’; the front part of it is troof, and that’s three times as big as the other part, and I can’t think of any other song ’bout goin’ home.”
“Datsh too baddy,” complained Toddie. “I fought you wazh tellin’ the troof, an’ I wouldn’t never hazh to hazh a lot of dirt on my eyes, so I couldn’t look up into de sky.”