It frightened me and my cries increased.
The door at the bottom of the stairs opened suddenly.
Aunt Deel called: "Don't lose your temper, Peabody.

I think you've gone fur 'nough--ayes!" Uncle Peabody stopped and blew as if he were very tired and then I caught a look in his face that reassured me.
He called back to her: "I wouldn't 'a' cared so much if it hadn't 'a' been the what-not and them Minervy flowers.

When a boy tips over a what-not he's goin' it purty strong." "Well don't be too severe.

You'd better come now and git me a pail o' water--ayes, I think ye had." Uncle Peabody did a lot of sneezing and coughing with his big, red handkerchief over his face and I was not old enough then to understand it.

He kissed me and took my little hand in his big hard one and led me down the stairs.
After that in private talks uncle and I always referred to our parlor as the wolf den and that night, after I had gone to bed, he lay down beside me and told the story of a boy who, having been left alone in his father's house one day, was suddenly set upon and roughly handled by a what-not, a shaggy old hair-cloth sofy and an album.