"And, if the new house doesn't feed us well, we'll tear it down." "If you don't tear ours down before you go, I'll be satisfied.

Maria, you must write to your sister, and smooth the matter over.

Boys will be boys, and I wouldn't like to have any coolness spring up.

Mr.Foster'll understand it." That was very nearly all that was said about it, and the two boys evidently had had no need for any hesitation in coming in to breakfast.
They were not so bad-looking a pair, as boys go; although it may be few other people would have seen so much to admire in them as their mother did.
Joe, the elder, was a loud, hoarse-voiced, black-eyed boy, of seventeen or thereabouts, with a perpetual grin on his face, as if he had discovered in this world nothing but a long procession of things to be laughed at.

Foster, so named after his lawyer relative, was a year and a half younger, but nearly as tall as Joe.