human
Sis! don't you smell sumfin burnin'?
gpt
I _do_ believe I smell something burning--cloth, or something,
human
It's an old black rag I put in the kitchen fire, without opening the damper,
gpt
Suppose he _has_ got the matches?
human
There are none in that room,
gpt
Goodness me! gasped Dorothy.
human
I wouldn't have a boy around for a farm!
gpt
If you don't smell nothin', Sis, it's 'cause I pulled off all the match heads an' swallered 'em! I'm goin' ter die--I'se p'izened, Sis!
human
Why! what a dreadful little scamp he is,