Why, Duane, he's a perfect old dear; and we all are so terribly contrite and so anxious to make amends for our horrid attitude toward him when he ruled us with an iron rod." "He's a funny old duck," mused Duane.

"That son of his, Peter, has had the 'indiwidool cultiwated' clean out of him.

He's only a type, like Gibson's drawings of Tag's son.

Old Tappan may be as honest as a block of granite, but it's an awful thing that he should ever have presided over the destinies of children." Kathleen sighed.

"According to his light he was faithful.