I can hear his boots.

Don't take any notice.

Let's go on fast as if he wasn't there." "I don't know that I can," grumbled Tom.

"I feel alloverish like." "Feel how ?" "As if I couldn't do as I liked.

My head wants to turn round and look at him, my tongue wants to call him names, and my toes itch, and my fists want to feel as if it would be like punching a sack of corn to hit him in the nose." "Come along!" cried Dick, who was too angry to laugh at his companion's remarks.