"If _you_ fall backward into that rose bush it won't hurt _me_." "Did I say it would, my child ?" asked Hippy serenely.
"Don't answer him, Miriam," advised Nora.

"He is like Tennyson's 'Brooklet,' he goes on forever." "How peaceful and quiet it was in Oakdale until yesterday," was Hippy's sorrowful comment.

"'Gone are the days when my heart was light and gay,' etc." "It will be not merely a case of bygone days, but bygone Hippy as well," threatened David.

"Reddy and I intend to defend our friends against your personal attacks." "I wasn't personal," beamed Hippy.

"I didn't say anything about any one.
I merely observed that since yesterday Oakdale had become a howling wilderness----" Hippy did not stop to finish his speech, but, nimbly dodging David and Reddy Brooks, who rose from the porch, determination written on their faces, bounded down the steps and disappeared around the corner of the house.
"He is the same Hippy who made life merry for us eight years ago when we were high school freshmen," smiled Grace.