"Yes, but that baby, Jenny!"

"What's wonderful about it?"

"Why, it's only two years old, and it can squall in two languages.
That's a good deal more than you can do."

"They say your friend, Miss. Foster, speaks French," retorted Jenny.
"Was she ever shipwrecked?"

"In French? May be so; but not in German."

"Well, Dabney, I don't propose to squall in any thing. Are your folks
going to burn any more of their barns this year?"

"Not unless Samantha gets married. Jenny, do you know what's the latest
fashion in lobsters?"

"Changeable green, I suppose."

"No: I mean after they're boiled. It's to have 'em come on the table in
cuffs and collars. Lace around their necks, you know."

"And gloves?"

"No, not any gloves. We had lobsters to-day, at Mrs. Foster's, and you
ought to have seen 'em."

"Dabney Kinzer, it's time you went to school again."