Don't be a-pullin' me back." She jerked the baby's arm impatiently.

He fell on his face, roaring.
With a second jerk she pulled him to his feet, and they went on.

With the obstinacy of his order, he protested against being dragged in a chosen direction.

He made heroic endeavors to keep on his legs, denounce his sister and consume a bit of orange peeling which he chewed between the times of his infantile orations.
As the sullen-eyed man, followed by the blood-covered boy, drew near, the little girl burst into reproachful cries.

"Ah, Jimmie, youse bin fightin' agin." The urchin swelled disdainfully.
"Ah, what deh hell, Mag.