"We go when fayther goes." "When fayther goes!" exclaimed Milly.

"Why, we go ever so long before father.

Why do you stay up so late ?" "Why, it isn't late," said Becky.

"Fayther goes to bed, now it's summertime, about half-past eight; but in winter, of course, he goes earlier.

And we all goes together, except baby.