“All right, I will,” said David accommodatingly. “Well—but you must put in your arms, Joel.”
“Go on,” said Joel, huddling back in bed again, “go on, Dave.”
“Well, so Peter was going to school, and—”
“No—no,” interrupted Joel, “he was going out to shoot something; you said so, Dave.”
“So I did,” said Davie. “Well, Peter was going out to shoot something, and—”
“What was he going to shoot?” demanded Joel.
“I don’t know,” said Davie helplessly.
“O dear,” grumbled Joel, “you don’t know any story, and you won’t let Peter do anything,” and he flounced all over the bed.
“Oh, I will—I will,” cried Davie in great distress. “I’ll let Peter shoot anything you want—I will truly, Joel.”
“I’d rather have a bear,” said Joel, stopping his tossing about; “no, two bears. Make it two bears, Dave,” he cried, very much excited.