There are always bad folk who go prowling about like wolves in--wolves in--what is it--" "Sheep's clothing," the maiden suggested, with a smile, and then dropped her eyes maliciously.
"How dare you be pert, miss, correcting your own mother?
Do I ever catch you reading of your Bible?
But you seem to know so much about it, perhaps you have met some of them ?" "How can I tell, mother, when you won't tell me ?" "I tell you, indeed! It is your place to tell me, I think.

And what is more, I insist at once upon knowing all about it.

What makes you go on in the way that you are doing?
Do you take me for a drumledore, you foolish child?
On Tuesday afternoon I saw you sewing with a double thread.

Your father had potato-eyes upon his plate on Sunday; and which way did I see you trying to hang up a dish-cover?
But that is nothing; fifty things you go wandering about in; and always out, on some pretense, as if the roof you were born under was not big enough for you.

And then your eyes--I have seen your eyes flash up, as if you were fighting; and the bosom of your Sunday frock was loose in church two buttons; it was not hot at all to speak of, and there was a wasp next pew.