"But we might, and then think how you'd feel," Bob too smiled.
"Wong no feel velly bad," he grinned.
"Now you know that's not true," Jack told him. "Come, just give us a little bite, that's a good fellow."
"No blite."
"But, Wong——"
"No blut. Dinner velly well over," and he started out of the room with the last of the dishes.
"Guess he means it," Jack whispered.
"'Fraid so," Bob replied.
But just as he reached the door he turned back.
"You slit down. Mebby gleet leetle blite," he grinned over his shoulder.