Worry--sorry--they don't even rhyme!" "Aw, ferget that stuff! Witless wight's all right, ain't it?
I claim Mary V's some poetry writer.

Don't you go actin' up jealous.

She ain't got the jingle, mebby, but she shore is there with the big idee." "'_Drink the dipper dry_'-- that shore does hit me where I live!" cried little Curley.

"Did you make it up outa yore own head, Johnny ?" "Naw.

I made it up out of a spellin' book!" Johnny, being outnumbered five to one, decided to treat the whole matter with lofty unconcern.
"Hand it over, Bud." Bud did not want to hand it over.