When'll Billy get home, an' Tom ?" "Goodness knows; Billy gets kep' in so much, an' Tom plays hookey so often, that I don't ever expect either of 'em much 'fore supper-time.
They talk of sendin' Tom to the Reform School if he don't stop." "I'll have to stop him, then.

I'll try it, anyway." "It needs somebody that can wollup him harder'n I can; he's gettin' too big for my stren'th.

Well, if here they don't both come! I don't know when I've seen them two boys together before, 'less they was fightin'.
I wonder what's got into 'em to-day." The two boys came through the back yard, eying the house curiously, Billy with wide open eyes, and Tom with a hang-dog leer from under the brim of his hat.

Their father met them at the door and put his arms around both.
"Don't do that," said Tom, twitching away, "that sort o' thing's for women, an' gals an' babies." "But I'm your dad, boy." "Needn't make a baby of me, if you be," growled the cub.
"I'd give a good deal, old as I am, if I had a dad to make a baby of me that way, if 'twas only for a minute." "Oh, don't be an old fool," said Tom.
"I heerd in the village you'd been let out," said Billy, "an' so I found Tom an' told him, an' he said I lied, an' so we come home to see.
Did you bring us anythin' ?" "Yes," said the father, his face brightening, as he thrust his hand into his pocket and took out the fig box.

"Here," as he gave a fig to each of the children and one to his wife, "how do you like that ?" "Good enough," growled Tom, "only I don't care for 'em unless I have a whole box.