And I did hope Grant would behave better." "Sure, he ought to.

Us boneheads don't know any better--but Grant's EDUCATED." Wally grinned and winked elaborately at his mother's back.
"I'm not educated up to Christmas angels that look as if they'd been stepped on," Grant defended himself.
"She's a real nice little thing.

If you boys would quit teasing the life out of her, I don't doubt but what, in six months or so, you wouldn't know the girl," Phoebe argued, with some heat.
"I don't know the girl now." Grant spoke dryly.

"I don't want to.

If I'd held a tomahawk in one hand and her flowing locks in the other, and was just letting a war-whoop outa me, she'd look at me--the way she did look." He snorted in contemptuous amusement, and gave a little, writhing twist of his slim body into his trousers.