You hurt me shockingly!" "Poor child!" cried Josyna, soothingly, "I'll be as dender as possible.
I'll nod give you de leasd pain--nod de leasd bid." "But I tell you, you _do_ give me a great deal," rejoined Blaize.

"I can't bear it.

Your fingers are like iron nails.

Keep them away." "Bless us! did I ever hear de like of dad!" exclaimed Josyna.

"Iron nails! if you think so, myn arm zoon, you musd be very ill indeed." "I _am_ very ill," groaned her son.