"When do you have to go to bed?" was the next pointed question from Alice Maud Mary.
"A quarter to eight."
"Who puts you in?"
This was another poser for even Flibbertigibbet's quick wits.
"Wot does she mane?" Freckles demanded anxiously.
"I dunno; anyhow, I'll tell her the sisters."
"The sisters," was the word that went across the street.
"Oh, how nice! Do you say your prayers to them too?"
Freckles groaned. "Wot yer goin' to tell her now?"
"Shut up now till yer hear me, an' cross yerself, for I mane it." Such was the warning from her mate.