"I bet he does sumpthing, too." Maurice shook his head ominously.

"Well, I'm gettin' tired of it.

I know he was the one stuck that cold fried egg in P'fesser Bartet's overcoat pocket at dancin'-school, and ole p'fesser went and blamed it on me.
Then, Carlie, he cum up to me, th' other day, and he says, 'Smell my buttonhole bokay.' He had some vi'lets stickin' in his buttonhole, and I went to smell 'em and water squirted on me out of 'em.

I guess I've stood about enough, and if he does another thing I don't like, he better look out!" Penrod showed some interest, inquiring for details, whereupon Maurice explained that if Master Chitten displeased him further, Master Chitten would receive a blow upon one of his features.

Maurice was simple and homely about it, seeking rhetorical vigour rather than elegance; in fact, what he definitely promised Master Chitten was "a bang on the snoot." "Well," said Penrod, "he never bothered ME any.