"It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes." "Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs.Hollis, as she placed the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.
Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one charm to his personal appearance.

He used so many lemons there were none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner.
"Just home from the post-office ?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the dining-room with his hat on.
"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically.

"And if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on.

I have just washed my hair, and I want it to dry straight." The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the brim of the stiff hat and smiled.
"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted.

"How many pages of Blackstone to-day ?" Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs.Hollis, but she betrayed him.
"He has been primping since sun-up," she said.