The boy had never had so foolish a theory to discard.

The chicken, the ham, the pie, disappeared as if conjured away.

The boy grew rounder.
"Boy," said the doctor at last, "hadn't you better stop?
You are 'swelling wisibly afore my werry eyes!'" The boy shook his head, but presently he began to have intervals when he was able to speak.
"Better plant all you can," he advised.

"Ma says the grub here would kill a cat.

I eat at home.