You may crack your sweet voice with screeching, and there's nobody near to hear you.

Listen to reason, my love, and let us in.

We don't want cider this time--we only want a very neat-looking pocketbook which you happen to have, and your late excellent mother's four silver teaspoons, which you keep so nice and clean on the chimney-piece.

If you let us in we won't hurt a hair of your head, my cherub, and we promise to go away the moment we have got what we want, unless you particularly wish us to stop to tea.

If you keep us out, we shall be obliged to break into the house and then--" "And then," burst in Shifty Dick, "we'll _mash_ you!" "Yes," said Jerry, "we'll mash you, my beauty.