"I never!" said Joe hotly. "I swapped with him f'r a peach, 'n he e't
the peach at noon-time, 'n then wouldn't gimme no bernanner."

"The peach warn't no good," Mike interpolated swiftly, seeing my
expression,--"it warn't no good, Miss Kate. When I come to eat it I had
ter chuck half of it away, 'nd then Joe Guinee went t' my lunch bucket
and hooked my bernanner!"

I sat down on the top step, motioned the culprits to do likewise, and
then began dispensing justice tempered with mercy for the twenty-fifth
time that day. "Mike, you say Joe took your banana?"

"Yes 'm,--he hooked it."

"Same thing. You have your words and I have mine, and I've told you
before that mine mean just as much and sound a little better. But I
thought that you changed that banana for a peach, and ate the peach?"

"I did."

"Then, why wasn't that banana Joe's?--you had taken his peach."

"He hadn't oughter hooked--took it out o' my bucket."

"No, and you ought not to have put it _into_ your bucket."

"He hooked--took what warn't his."

"You _kept_ what wasn't yours. How do you expect to have a good fruit