It's not like you to be breakin' my heart by stayin' home.

Next week, said that wicked old uncle--he remoinds me of the one that tried to desthroy the Babes in the Woods, Patsy dear.

You must try to reclaim him to humanity, for I'm hopin' there's a bit of good in the old rascal yet." And he looked affectionately at the round little man under the newspaper.
Uncle John emerged again.

It was wonderful how well he understood the Doyle family.

His face was now smiling and wore a look of supreme satisfaction.
"Your selfishness, my dear Major," said he, "is like the husk on a cocoanut.