If he'd been stood against the wall and made to recite, "Speak gently," as often as all of us, perhaps he'd have remembered the verse that says: "Speak gently to the little child; Its love be sure to gain; Teach it in accents soft and mild; It may not long remain." I should think not, if it had any chance at all to get away! I was so angry by that time I meant to tell him what I thought.

Polite or not polite, I'd take a switching if I had to, but I wasn't going to stand that.
"You haven't got any God in your life," I reminded him, "and no one sent me here.

I came to see the Princess, because I'm in awful trouble and I hoped maybe she could fix up a way to help me." "Ye Gods!" he cried.

He would stick to calling on God, whether he believed in Him or not.

"If it isn't Nimrod! I didn't recognize you in all that bundling." Probably he didn't know it, but Nimrod was from the Bible too! By bundling, he meant my hood and coat.