"I like walking up and down."
"Do you like pickin' up that jogglefry book and lookin' at it every time you pass the table?" The Atom's sarcastic little tongue was sharp.
But Nell squashed her with a guiltily unkind, "What's a jogglefry book?"
The Atom grew slowly scarlet. After a little while she fetched the dictionary, and wrestled with it indefatigably till bedtime. She hunted, her mouth set firmly, her brows frowning, all through the "J's". She went to bed unsatisfied. When Molly had been in bed a few minutes a little night-gowned figure crept into the room.
"Molly!"
Molly gave a yell of terror. "Oh, Sheila Pat, you did make me jump! What do you want?"
The Atom stood shivering beside her bed. "Molly, how—how'd you be savin' Jog—you know all about pennyshulars and capes and gulfs and things?"
"Geography, do you mean?"
"Yes. Jography. Is that right?"
"Yes," sleepily. "Go back to bed."