“Great Scotch! And I thought it was a burglar!” he say disappointly.
“So sorry I could not find one,” I gosp.
Hon. Mrs. Pumphrey come in while she fainted away.
“Next time you come into my Baby’s room don’t do so!” she snarrel.
“Mrs, Madam,” I decry, “how can you talk so crosswise? You tell me how slaughter flies for their rattlesnakish crimes, yet you say scolds when I do so.”
“Midnight is not fly-time,” she narrate.
“Maybe you are enraged because it were not a burglar,” I snuggest. “Yet what is more horble to have in house than a fly?”
“A Japanese foolboy is!” corrode Hon. Mrs. & Mr. in together voice while dejecting me outside of screen door where I still remain, feeling quite dissolute.
Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.