Doc turned into Mr.Hyde on his way down and landed in a currant bush, spitting and swearing.

I tried to console his inner cat with a saucer of milk but he would have none of it, and remained Mr.Hyde the rest of the day.

Jims's latest exploit was to paint the cushion of the big arm-chair in the sun parlour with molasses; and before anybody found it out Mrs.Fred Clow came in on Red Cross business and sat down on it.

Her new silk dress was ruined and nobody could blame her for being vexed.

But she went into one of her tempers and said nasty things and gave me such slams about 'spoiling' Jims that I nearly boiled over, too.