in hot pursuit.

'You monkey, how dare you meddle with my papers ?' cried the irate poet, making futile grabs at the saucy girl, who skipped to and fro, waving a bit of paper tantalizingly before him.
'Didn't; found it in the big "Dic".

Serves you right if you leave your rubbish about.

Don't you like my song?
It's very pretty.' 'I'll teach you one that you won't like if you don't give me my property.' 'Come and get it if you can'; and Josie vanished into the study to have out her squabble in peace, for Mrs Meg was already saying: 'Children, children! don't quarrel.' The paper was in the fire by the time Demi arrived and he at once calmed down, seeing that the bone of contention was out of the way.
'I'm glad it's burnt; I don't care for it, only some verse I was trying to set to music for one of the girls.

But I'll trouble you to let my papers alone, or I shall take back the advice I gave mother tonight about allowing you to act as much as you like.' Josie was sobered at once by this dire threat, and in her most wheedling tone begged to know what he had said.