Whack! whack!
“Elizabeth Campbell!” The master's tone was quite terrible.
“I don't care! He won't leave me alone. He's just—just (sob) pu—pulling at me (sob) all the time.”
By this time Betsy's apron was up to her eyes, and her sobs were quite tempestuous.
“James, stand up!” Jimmie slowly rose, red with laughter, and covered with confusion.
“I-I-I di-dn't touch her!” he protested.
“O—h!” said little Aleck Sinclair, who had been enjoying Jimmie's prank hugely; “he was—”
“That'll do, Aleck, I didn't ask you. James is quite able to tell me himself. Now, James!”
“I-I-I was only just doing that,” said Jimmie, sober enough now, and terrified at the results of his mischief.
“Doing what?” said the master, repressing a smile at Jimmie's woebegone face.