Dee stumped up the aisle, settling stolidly into his hips at each step.
"What story do you tell? Your sisters give one another the lie in fine style."
"Flea never told a lie in her life," asserted Dee, sturdily. "Pa said so las' night."
"He has a better opinion of her than I have. How did he happen to say that?"
"Cause ma she didn't b'lieve Flea los' her report."
"Your 'ma'"—mimicking the witness's drawl—"has more sense than your 'pa.' Did you see him help your truth-telling Flea with her sum?"
"No, sir."
"You wouldn't tell me if you had, would you?"
"No, sir."
By the time the dogged reply left his lips he reeled under a crack of the ruler upon his head. Flea cried out once and sharply, and hid her face with her hands.