"He don't look pleathant," said Charlie.
"No," replied Katie, archly; "I guess um don't want to be kissed."
Piggy winked his pink eyes, as if to say, "Ah, but I do."
"Does you?" said Katie, kindly, "then I'll frow you one;" and she did it from the tips of her clean fingers.
"But piggy's velly dirty," said she, wiping her lips on her apron.
"Don't they wath him?" said Charlie; "they wath theep."
"Um isn't a sheep," returned Katie; "um's a pig."
"But your gwampa could wath him."
"No, gampa couldn't; gampa's deaf. I'll tell Ruthie, and Ruthie'll wash him with the toof brush."
"I with thee would," sighed Charlie; "thee ought to. O ho!" he added, a bright thought striking him; "you got a mop?"