“Sweethearted Weak-Enders,” I say so, “obtain your hats and baggages with immediate quickness and I will snuggle you away from here before they can catch you.”
“What you mean by what you say?” they require.
“I observe how you suffer. Therefore I help escape.” This I say.
“I should muchly admire to go,” he croach, “yet cannot because Hon. Spiggotts would feel sad to lose us.”
“Your sudden depart off would grieve them even less,” I tell. “Last night they included you among buffaloes and mentioned poison while speaking of you.
“Oh!!” Both stand up on their stamping feet. They rosh upstairs for bag. They rosh downstairs with it. I go to animal garage for hitch down Sarah.
Pretty soonly church-bell chime forth while Mrs. & Mr. Spiggott return backwards from there. They observe their weak-end gasts on porch.
“What—must you carry yourselves away before Monday?” require Mrs. Spiggott for sorrow voice.
“Your poor but neat home is no place for zoological buffalos!” stroggle Hon. Mr. Ax.
“And poisonous food might be expensive from high price of drugs for economical persons,” grubble Hon. Mrs. Ax.