"Werry well. If him's a goose him won't talk to you, and him won't tell you somesing werry funny and dedful bootiful that him heard in the 'groind room."
All eyes were turned on Baby.
"Oh, do tell us, Baby darling, do tell us," said Celia and Denny.
Fritz gave Baby a friendly pat on the back.
"You'll tell me, old fellow, won't you?" he said. Baby looked at him.
"Yes," he said at last; "him will tell you,'cos you let him have Peepy-'noozle, and 'cos you doesn't call him a goose—like girls does. I'll whister in your ear, Fritz, if you'll bend down."
But Celia thought this was too bad.
"I didn't call you a goose, Baby," she said. "I think you might tell me too."
"And I'll promise never to call you a goose again if you'll tell me," said Denny.
Baby had a great soul. It was beneath him to take a mean revenge, he felt, especially on a girl! So he shut his little mouth tightly, knit his little brows, and thought it over for a moment or two. Then his face cleared.