Bud
Aw, whut’s the matter with ’em?
Miss Meredith
Never mind, you’re not to sing them. They’re bad taste.
Bud
Ha! Bad taste? Verses don’t taste, Miss Meredith. They ain’t no taste to ’em, ma’am. ’N’ if they is, they all taste alike!
Miss Meredith
Not another word out of you, Bud Bickel! It’s time to be cooking the breakfast, anyway. You can play afterwards.
Bud
Aw, let us play one more!