I was thinking what a pity it was, after every one had grown accustomed to me, and had begun loving me, that I should be wasted for dog feed, when Mr.Pryor came to the door, and called them; they didn't mind, so he came to the fence, and crossest you ever heard, every bit as bad as the dogs, he cried: "Whose brat are you, and what are you doing here ?" I meant to tell him; but you must have a minute after a thing like that.
"God of my life!" he fairly frothed.

"What did anybody send a dumb child here for ?" "Dumb child!" I didn't care if Mr.Pryor did wear a Crown of Glory.
It wasn't going to do him one particle of good, unless he was found in the way of the Lord.

"Dumb child!" I was no more dumb than he was, until his bulldogs scared me so my heart got all tangled up with my stomach, my lungs, and my liver.

That made me mad, and there was nothing that would help me to loosen up and talk fast, like losing my temper.

I wondered what kind of a father he had.