Say, Tom, let's go to work a-thinkin', an' see if there ain't some way to give dad a lift.

Seems to me he's doin' everythin' for us all the whole time, an' we ain't doin' nothin' at all for him." "Oh, now, quit your preachin'," said the elder brother, contemptuously.
"If you don't, I'll lamm you." The younger brother prudently lapsed into entire silence, and the couple soon reached home.

Tom strolled about the room, his lower lip hanging down, bestowing glares of different intensity upon every individual and object present, and even making a threatening motion with his foot towards the baby, who had crawled about the floor until it was weary and fretful and was uttering plaintive cries from time to time.

His mother was out of the house somewhere, and the baby continued to protest against its physical discomforts until Tom indulged in a violent expletive, which had the effect of temporarily silencing the child and causing it to look up at him with wondering eyes.

Tom returned the infant's stare for a moment or two, and then, moved by some spirit which he was not able to identify, he stooped and picked up the infant and sat down in a chair.