human
Oh, hurry, Rob; give me my stick-pin, Wythie--they're coming!
gpt
Don't wear your stick-pin, Prue; you're sure to lose it out of that thin stuff. Take my bow-knot-pin,
human
Oh, that old-fashioned thing! Well, I suppose boys won't know--I'll take it, Wythie. Ready, Rob?
gpt
Would be if my shoe-lacing hadn't come untied, and I stepped on it and broke it. I wouldn't dare tell anyone what I thought of shoe-lacings!
human
Let me, Rob; you're too crazy,
gpt
Blessings on thee, little Fan, she said.
human
Please go down, Wythie and Prue. Tell the boys we'll be there just as soon as we finish singing 'Blest be the tie that binds.'
gpt
Where shall we begin?
human
At the beginning,
gpt
Wherever you like; it really doesn't matter. And we girls are going to rake after you.
human
Is this going to be a comic-opera, and are we taking part as stage peasants, or really working?
gpt
Rob is demented, but not dangerous,
human
You know I warned you.
gpt
Well, now at it,
human
Be sure you don't kill any young ground sparrows,
gpt
Oh, let me go ahead and scare up the mothers if there are any nests, then we'll see where they fly up,
human
Go ahead, Paula Revere; rouse the inhabitants,