Grandmother: Now, my dears, you must be very good and quiet, or you’ll wake your father, and you know what’ll happen then.
Charles: Yes, I know: he’ll be woundy cross-tempered and send us off to bed.
Grandmother (stops knitting and speaks with severity): What’s that? Fie upon you, Charles! that’s not a way to speak. Now I was going to have told you a story, but if you use such-like words, I shan’t. (Suppressed outcry: “Oh, granny!”) Hush! hush! Now I believe you have woke your father!
Squire (thickly): Look here, mother, if you can’t keep them brats quiet——
Grandmother: Yes, John, yes! it’s too bad. I’ve been telling them if it happens again, off to bed they shall go.
Squire relapses.
Grandmother: There, now, you see, children, what did I tell you? you must be good and sit still. And I’ll tell you what: to-morrow you shall go a-blackberrying, and if you bring home a nice basketful, I’ll make you some jam.
Charles: Oh yes, granny, do! and I know where the best blackberries are: I saw ’em to-day.
Grandmother: And where’s that, Charles?
Charles: Why, in the little lane that goes up past Collins’s cottage.