"He's comin'," interrupted Napoleon, without for a moment intermitting his potato-shoveling. "Walkin' fast," continued the sententious lad, swallowing immediately half a cup of milk.
Dr. Lively came hurrying into the dining-room.
"For pity's sake, I think it's about time," the wife began pettishly.
"Have you seen my purse anywhere about here?" the gentleman asked with an anxious cadence in his voice.
"Your purse!" shrieked Mrs. Lively, turning short upon her husband and glaring in wild alarm.
"Lost it?" asked Napoleon, digging his fork into a huge potato and transferring it to his plate.
"Go, look in the bed-room, Nappy: I think I must have dropped it there," said the father.
Napoleon rose from his chair, but stopped halfway between sitting and standing for a farewell bite at his bread and butter.
"For mercy's sake, why don't you go along?" Mrs. Lively snapped out. "What do you keep sitting there for?"
"Ain't a-settin'," responded Nappy, laying hold of his cup for a last swallow.