human
Under the gright Gugollaph-tree The Dimplesmithy stands; The smith is harder than the sea And softer than the lands; He mends cheek-dimples frank and free, But will not work on hands.
gpt
Bring 'em to the shop!
human
Well, she said aloud,
gpt
I'm glad they're cheek-dimples, anyhow. But what in the world shall I do about the onions?
human
What in Zeelup, corrected the Teacup gently, counting her stitches.
gpt
Milder than swearing, my dear, more becoming, and quite as effective.
human
Well, if you'd of asked me sooner, I could of told you. I have them in the sugar-bowl, of course. Do you suppose I'd be without, and him subject to such fits?