We didn't dare shake the tree, because the pigs ran on the other side of the fence, and they chanked up every peach that fell there.

Those peaches were too good to feed even father's finest Berkshires.
By the time Miss Amelia had eaten nine or ten, she was so happy to think she was there, she quit tilting her head and using big words.

Of course she couldn't know how I loved to hear them, and maybe she thought I wouldn't know what they meant, and that they would be wasted on me.

If she had understood how much spelling and defining I'd heard in my life, I guess she might have talked up as big as she could, and still I'd have got most of it.

When she reached the place where she ate more slowly, she began to talk.