I just leaned against a tree and shook and shook till my head ached.
I said, "I don't know what he's doing with the curling iron, but I think—wait a minute till I can speak—oh, oh, oh—I think he tripped over the apron while he was trying to flop an omelet and the omelet came down on his head. Don't speak to me!"
"He's suffering from shell shock or something," Connie said.
"Not shell shock, omelet shock," I told him; "this is—gh—gh—astly. I wonder what became of the ch—ch—ch—icken!"
CHAPTER XVI
UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER
Then we all marched in, just as if nothing had happened—you know, kind of careless like.
Westy said, "Good morning, it's a beautiful afternoon this evening. Is dinner ready?"