“You did, sir; ask Waddie; he was your messenger.”
“I didn’t send for you.”
“Waddie came to my house, and said you wanted to see me.”
“I want to see you now, at any rate.”
“Here I am, sir.”
“You shall be punished for knocking my son over into the mud.”
“I would like to talk this matter over coolly, Colonel Wimpleton,” I continued, taking an easy position in the tree, “I apologized to Waddie for calling him a liar, and I am sorry I was saucy to you.”
“Humph! Come down from that tree, then. If you make a clean breast of it, I will let you off easy.”
“I don’t think I’m to blame for anything except being saucy,” I replied; and I did not think I was much to blame for that, after he had called me a villain and a scoundrel, and other hard names; still it was returning evil for evil.
“Did he apologize to you, Waddie?” asked the colonel, turning to his hopeful.