Your own flesh an' blood ha' warned ye! 'Tain't any o' my fault ef you're mistook, but I'll be on deck to watch ye.

An' ez fer yeou, Uncle Salters, Pharaoh's chief butler ain't in it 'longside o' you! You watch aout an' wait.
You'll be ploughed under like your own blamed clover; but me--Dan Troop--I'll flourish like a green bay-tree because I warn't stuck on my own opinion." Disko was smoking in all his shore dignity and a pair of beautiful carpet-slippers.

"You're gettin' ez crazy as poor Harve.

You two go araound gigglin' an' squinchin' an' kickin' each other under the table till there's no peace in the haouse," said he.
"There's goin' to be a heap less--fer some folks," Dan replied.

"You wait an' see." He and Harvey went out on the trolley to East Gloucester, where they tramped through the bayberry-bushes to the lighthouse, and lay down on the big red boulders and laughed themselves hungry.