Hon. Mrs. Heneretta Hoke arrive in kitchen with her face filled up from the sunshine which was not in sky.
“Togo,” she say so, making charity expression of mouth, “you have been earnestly faithful Japanese in bake, stew, and dish-wash.”
“I confess it.” This from me.
“Therefore I shall reward it,” she sympathize while pointing to outdoors where nature were feeling seasick while blowing down hen-shed. “I give you your Thursday Out.”
“I bid you merry no thanks!” I say it. “If convenient, I shall take my outing inside where there is less pneumonia.”
“O!” she defy with steam voice. “You dishobey my orders?”
“If convenient,” I snagger, “I prefer my picnic in my bedroom where there is only one leak.”
“Shall not do!” she howell. “Your lung require fresh air Thursday.”
“My lung feel plenty fresh already,” I insure.
“O boneless Japanese!” she retork. “Why should I be continuously thoughtful for your convenience? Why should I treat you gently like a horse when you stand there and kick my kindness back in my face?”