"You ought to see my dog," said Tommy. "He's a fighter, he is!"
"How can you say that?" said Mary. "He is only three months old and can scarcely walk straight."
"Well, I bet he will fight when he gets bigger."
"He's not your dog anyhow," said Myron. "He's Gwenny's."
"Yes, and Myron bought him for her at the Pet Shop with money he earned himself. It is a toy poodle, so he won't ever be big."
"Now who tells the next story?" asked Rosanna. "I think it is Tommy's turn."
"Don't know none," said Tommy.
"Don't know any," his sister corrected him. "Go on and try, Tommy."
Tommy breathed hard, then said rapidly:
"Well, once over on the parkway two kids was playin', and a man came along drivin' a race horse, and it had got scared at a nautomobile, and was runnin' away, and the rein had broke, and the man he yelled, 'I'll give anybuddy a million dollars to stop this horse,' and one of the kids 'bout my size give a leap and grabbed the horse by the nose and stopped him. And the man jumped right out and give the kid a million dollars."