In fact I was rather severely scratched with a.

pin in the bosom of her dress.
"There! that serves you right," she cried.

"That's a judgment on you for trying to run away again.

After all the trouble you gave us yesterday too! You are a bad boy." "Why am I a bad boy ?" I retorted.
"It's bad not to do what you are told." "I will do what my papa tells me." "Your papa! There are more people than your papa in the world." "I'm to be a bad boy if I don't do what anybody like you chooses to tell me, am I ?" "None of your impudence!" This was accompanied by a box on the ear.

She was now dragging me into the kitchen.