“Leave me get down,” I gasped, at last, to the doctor, “or I’ll bust with delight, by heaven!”
He laughed, but unclasped his hands and let me slip from his knee; and then I began to strut the floor, my chest puffed out to twice its natural extent.
“By heaven!” I began. “If that Jagger——”
The clock struck ten. “David Roth,” my sister exclaimed, lifting her hands in mock horror, “’tis fair scandalous for a lad o’ your years t’ be up ’t this hour!”
“Off to bed with you, you rascal!” roared the doctor.
“I’ll not go,” I protested.
“Off with you!”
“Not I.”
“Catch un, doctor!” cried my sister.
“An you can, zur!” I taunted.