"Well, I don't think it's much of a play, any way," said Johnny.
"Who said it was?" retorted Florence. "Susy and I didn't want to come down; we did it just to please you."
"Please me!" sniffed Johnny. "I wanted to play poison, out in the yard!"
"I do wish," thought Susy, privately, "that cousin Flossy would be more polite to little Johnny. I really think he wouldn't be so rude if she would treat him as a lady should."
"There's another play we used to have," said Prudy, "where you sit round on the floor, right among the dishes, and eat your supper."
"Well, I declare for it," said Angeline, "those people off there do need missionaries more than ever I thought they did."
"Yes," replied Susy, "they tell such horrid stories to their little children. The children don't dare go out after dark, for they suppose there are demons up in the high trees, just ready to dart down and whisk them off."
"Angeline tells just such stories her own self," said Dotty.
"Then she's a heathen," said Florence, who usually spoke the first thought that came into her head.
"If that's the case," retorted Angeline, with dignity, "you'd better all walk out of this kitchen before you are entirely ruined."